#i usually like this professor but he's been pissing me off SO BAD RECENTLY. snapping at ppl in front of the class. not respecting ppls

[aropride]

one of my professors' tests drive me fucking crazy bc they arent fair at all and nobody is doing well in the class (despite him grading on a curve which is apparently supposed to be a good thing? i guess? i mean it got me like, 12 or 16 extra points on the first test so im not complaining i just dont get how it works) and im like actually going to be so upset if this ruins my Plan to get on the dean's list for the bit. like i'll be genuinely so upset. And one of the girls in my class is a super smart polisci major transferring to an ivy league next year and she's thinking of withdrawing bc she might lose her scholarship if she does badly in this class. And what i mean by the tests being unfair is like. one of the questions on the last test was "where is [whatever building] located?" with 6 different towns as options as well as "none of these" and "other:" with a space to write. so i wrote down "there is no building" in the other spot, and my friend circled none of these, because it isnt in any of these, because there isnt a building at all. and our professor marked him wrong Despite being completely correct Bc he was looking for us to write in that there wasnt one. And another question was like. "which two positions [whatever, i dont fucking remember]" and had places to write in a) and b). and almost nobody got that one right bc THERE'S ONLY ONE POSITION THAT COULD [WHATEVER] AND HE MADE THE QUESTION LIKE THAT ON PURPOSE TO TRIP PEOPLE UP. just doesnt seem like a fair way to assess student's learning at all when u have to read the whole test like, "ok what does he specifically want"-- ANOTHER EXAMPLE, my friend and i both got one wrong bc the question was "what does [latin phrase] mean" and we wrote in what it means as in, like, if we heard the words in a court case, this is what it would mean. but he was looking for the Literal Latin-To-English Translation and marked us both wrong. even though we knew what it meant if it was used in a sentence.and just not the literal word for word translation. because why would we need to know that.

[legends-live-in-memories]

Business (Mis)Management

AYO you know the drill. MGI Trope Tussle! 

Fics Masterlist

Timari Oneshot 2.3K words

Summary: 

"Right before her, where her professor usually stood every Tuesday and Thursday, stood a surprise guest lecturer. One problem, though. Marinette hates the guy. She hates him and his stupid well-fitting suit that she dedicated actual blood sweat and tears into making. "

One shot using two prompts for this server event: Day 3:College AU Day 5: "Why'd you do that?" "I- I don't know..."

without further ado: 

It was Tuesday, bright and early at 9:30 am, and Marinette was ready to commit murder. She was sitting in her Intro to Business Management course with her cup of coffee and notepad ready and pencil about to snap in her grip. Right before her, where her professor usually stood every Tuesday and Thursday, stood a surprise guest lecturer. One problem, though. Marinette hates the guy. She hates him and his stupid well-fitting suit that she dedicated actual blood sweat and tears into making. 

Right there, on this awful Tuesday morning, stood one Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne looking all the world like he would rather be anywhere else; stupid rich people were all the same, thinking the world was doing them a favour by letting them grace everyone else with their presence. Marinette also wishes he was anywhere else but life doesn’t work that way. Her actual professor stood off to the side, waxing sonnets about how accomplished the young CEO was and Marinette listened to none of it. Rather, she was silently stewing in her thoughts, lost in how this man became the particularly large thorn in her side.

It was six months ago when she got an email asking for a commission. A commission for the exact three piece suit he was wearing today. He had gotten her contact from another client and his emailed request was perfect and professional. He had asked for the suit, listed all the required measurements and requested any personalizations he wanted. They couldn’t meet for any in-person fittings so it was currently both aggravating and satisfying to see it fit his lean figure so perfectly. The drama didn’t start, however, until two weeks after, when Marinette had sent the finished product to the designated address. While Marinette isn’t one for showboating and bragging about her capabilities, it grinds her teeth when others try to talk down on her skills. 

When Marinette had sent off the suit, and emailed the man that the package was to be expected within three business days, she got a rather crude email in response, labeling her work as ‘tacky’ and a ‘pathetic attempt at wiggling her way into his family’s pockets.’ That had her doubletaking at the sender, making sure it wasn’t some spam mail that she was reading. Nope, that’s his email right there. Marinette remembered a particular twitch she had in her eye the first time she read that email. It was one thing to be ungrateful of a finished product, Marinette was no stranger to harsh critiques and pieces that worked better on paper than as actualized designs, but the accusation of being a gold-digger set off warning bells that threw her back into the tenth grade where she had battles with a rich blonde with daddy issues. At least he had paid her in advance for the suit. Marinette would have been perfectly fine with silently cutting all ties with Mr. Wayne right then and there, and putting the whole ordeal behind her, until he decided that a crassly worded email wasn’t enough. No. He felt compelled to go on national television and insult her suit for everyone to hear. Marinette remembers his words perfectly, as if they were ingrained in her memory forever.

“You’ve seen the suits I’ve worn, I look like I escaped my own funeral. I’ve tried local, and outsourcing designers and tailors and nothing matches my taste. I’m only twenty-three and I dress like I’ve gone through my third divorce—”Marinette had turned off the television to shamelessly cry into her pillow. She couldn’t bear to hear him insult her design over the poorly timed laughs of the ‘live-studio audience’ that particular interview was filmed in front of. 

After that, Marinette had reaffirmed her conclusion that all rich people were assholes best left to their own privileged bubble. 

A solid clap snapped her attention back to the front of the lecture hall, eyes narrowing at the man by the podium. The presentation pulled up on the smart board indicated that he was going to be speaking to them about professionalism and how to engage in buyer-seller conversations. Oh that was bloody perfect. What did this guy know about any of those things? 

The time was 9:45 exactly when the guy decided to start his presentation. 

“Hello, everyone,” his voice was smooth and firm, not wavering while speaking before a hall filled with two hundred students. “My name is Timothy Drake-Wayne but you all can just call me Tim. It’s lovely to meet all of you and I’m honoured to be here speaking for you today.” 

Cue a very predictable, very standard, very boring introduction. Marinette was beginning to tune out at this point.

“To start off this presentation, I would like to talk about misunderstandings in professional conversations.” He started walking across the front of the room. Slow and methodical; he knew he had all eyes on him and he was taking full advantage of it. Marinette wanted to gag. “Additionally, I want to discuss how to avoid them, and what to do if miscommunication occurs.”

Blah, blah blahblah. Marinette didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

“To start off, I’m going to talk about a situation I found myself in not too long ago.” That caught her attention. “It’s funny now and makes for great dinner conversation but not so much when it had happened. How many of you siblings?”

He paused and surveyed the room. His eyes passed over Marinette and for a brief second she thought he focused on her for a blink longer than necessary. She banished the thought from her mind; she didn’t have siblings so he had no reason to notice her.  

“Now,” he continued, “how many of you have siblings who aren’t afraid to sabotage your work when they’re mad at you?” 

Another pause as some of the students lowered their hands. Some were unsure and Marinette had a weird feeling in her gut. Her instincts were screaming at her but she couldn’t figure out why.

“Don’t feel shy,” the guy raised his hand to join the students, “my younger brother is a menace who can and has attempted to sabotage my business. Just recently in fact.”

Marinette looked around the room to see quite a few surprised faces. She was vaguely familiar with the Wayne family and remembered a few details about the youngest child. He was a menace, that’s for sure. As egotistical as any thirteen year old can be. That feeling in her gut returned with vigor. She was suddenly very alert and eager, almost desperate, to figure out how the ankle biter had sabotaged this man.

“About six months ago my brothers and I were butting heads as usual. My sister was enjoying everything while shit hit the fan from a safe distance. I’m not going to go into much details.” He’s arms were waving animatedly as he spoke. It was quite endearing. NO. Bad thoughts, Marinette. “The point of all this is that I pissed my younger brother off somehow. I don’t know, maybe I breathed too hard on his cat or something.” That got a laugh out of the students except Marinette. Six months. He said his brother had sabotaged him around six months ago. That gut feeling had turned her stomach into a pit, eating away at her nerves.

“My brother had hacked into my email and sent absolutely horrible replies to everyone that was marked as important in my contacts in a poor attempt at pretending to be me. Of course, most of those contacts work at Wayne Enterprises. It took a courtesy email explaining the mishap and a personal visit with an apology gift to clear the air. Now for the contacts who don’t work at Wayne E, that’s where it gets tricky.”

Marinette was holding her breath, wishing for this day to already be over and for the ground to open and swallow her whole. She both hoped she was and wasn’t wrong. On the one hand, it meant that he was truly that harsh in replying to her and she wasn’t among the contacts his brother emailed, justifying her slowly dwindling fury. On the other more plausible hand, it meant that he wasn’t responsible for the crude email. It still didn’t explain the interview he did but…but she never did watch the entire thing. She had started watching the interview already expecting him to tear her down. He never referenced her suit by any specifics before she had changed the channel. That probably meant that she had poorly misjudged him. But she would have been contacted in some way if she was among those people and she hadn’t. So he was still an ass to her. Right? 

“For those who I couldn’t visit in person,” Oh god, he was still speaking. “I sent them more personal emails compared to what I sent the employees. That was really the most I could do and I hoped for the best. I got a reply from most; they were rather understanding, actually, some even claiming that their own siblings would do something like that. It went over pretty well.” He suddenly had this forlorn look as he rubbed his hands absentmindedly against the suit. 

“While I was lucky that most of my contacts were understanding, one important thing to be prepared for is people who won’t be that forgiving. Do you see this suit I’m wearing? I love this suit. I will absolutely get buried in this suit. I had commissioned and received it just before the email fiasco and I, regrettably, never got a response when I tried to both thank and apologize to them. My brother had used my email to accuse them of being a gold-digger of all things. I would have loved to commission them again but it looks like my brother burned that bridge permanently.”

What? No. That’s not true and Marinette felt hot rage flare up in her. Was he really lying to try and save face right now? She felt the strong urge to interrupt him. To march down those steps and let him know exactly how she felt about him lying about emailing her to apologize. But, a treacherous hopeful part of herself whispered to her, she had to be sure. She had to have irrefutable proof that she wasn’t one of the victims to his rabid brother and he was just an ass. 

She couldn’t get to her phone fast enough. She searched for all the emails the two had exchanged, finding the most recent to be his harsh email. She had another niggling feeling, however, and decided to check her spam mail. 

Marinette has most definitely stopped breathing. 

Right there, in bold letters sat a Wayne Enterprises email waiting to be opened and read. She couldn’t bring herself to click it open, ice flooding her veins, freezing her in her seat. She actually misread the situation. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to bash her head on the table and grovel for forgiveness from this very handsome man. She didn’t do any of this, however, managing some degree of composure and sat through the remainder of his presentation. She would bet her left leg it was the best presentation she would have ever heard but she couldn’t recall a single word of it from that point on; too busy digging her own grave and writing her own eulogy. She could never show her face around Gotham again. Her life was ruined.

The sounds of people packing up had her crawling herself out of her own head. She mechanically packed her things up, gazing pathetically at her blank notebook. She made her way down the steps, eyeing the gaggle of students surrounding Marinette’s biggest missed opportunity to date. She was just about to walk straight out the door, resigning herself to her fate when she made a hasty decision. She turned to the dwindling crowd and marched like a woman on a mission. She wormed her away to stand directly in Tim’s line of sight and she braced herself for possibly her dumbest idea yet. She listened to the conversation going on and as soon as it appeared she was not going to interrupt anyone, she shot her hand out and grabbed him by his suit. The act caught everyone’s attention but before she could chicken out, she turned to leave and pulled the businessman along with her, leaving stunned silence behind. 

They didn’t get far out the door when he yanked her arm off him, stopping them in their tracks. He looked angry, confused but also very put out at her. Fair. 

“Why’d you do that?” 

“I— I don’t know.” His glare was intense. Marinette felt her face flush and her knees weaken. She wanted to make things right but it seemed she was only making things worse. She took a breath. Focus, she reminded herself. She just needed to address one problem at a time. “I mean, I do know why but I wasn’t supposed to do it like that. I just needed your attention.”

“Well now you have it. So what do you want?”

“I wanted to apologize. Not about dragging you out here. Yet. But for accidentally ignoring your apology email.” One of his eyebrows rose incredulously as she kept talking, but she ignored it and powered on. “It was, for some reason, in my spam mail and I didn’t see it. But if it’s any consolation, I would love it if you commissioned me for another suit. Or anything else really.” 

“Pardon?” He didn’t believe her, or was at least confused by her, that much she could tell.

“You suit. I made it. Here, look.” She turned her phone screen, showing him their conversations in her emails. At his slightly more relaxed posture she continued speaking. “I’m glad you like the suit.”

“Huh.”

“Also I’m sorry for dragging you out here.” She had curled her shoulders into her ears, still holding her phone out like an idiot. His chuckle in response eased her nerves only slightly. He had a cute laugh. And he was cute too. Bad thoughts! Stop getting distracted!

“Okay, I’ll accept your apology if you accept mine.” The carefree smile he threw at her was disarming. “And I would love to talk more about working with you, Ms. Cheng.”

“Marinette, please, Mr. Wayne.” She could breathe easier now, no longer on the verge of catastrophizing. “If you want to get started as early as possible, I’m free for an early lunch right now.”

“Only if you call me Tim. And lunch sounds great actually. I know a great bistro off campus if you will let me escort you.” He really needed to stop smiling at her like that. Her heart couldn’t take it.

“Sounds wonderful. Lead the way.” He turned and offered her his arm. She was slow to move, still faintly caught in the emotional whiplash of the morning. Her gentle grip on his bicep was enough for her to feel the muscle definition under the suit. It pleasantly surprised her but not nearly as much as his next words.

“Perfect. It’s a date.”

What?

[pikapeppa]

Felassan/Lavellan modern AU: Bitterness

Several chapters of Inadvisable (Professor Solas modern AU) have been posted on AO3 and I didn’t crosspost them here, OHP. (Honestly, Tumblr’s blocking of external links is pissing me the fuck off, so I got tired and stopped posting. But I will try to get back into the habit when I’m in the mood. 😂)

ANYWAY, catch up here on AO3, and here is some Tamaris Lavellan POV from the most recent chapter! ~6100 words in total.

***************************

- TAMARIS -

Tamaris was cleaning up after her last client of the day when she sensed a pair of eyes on the back of her neck.

She looked up to find Athera staring at her from the doorway. She raised an eyebrow and continued sterilizing the table. “What? What’s up?”

“I have something for you,” Athera said.

Tamaris looked up once more. Athera’s voice sounded calm, but her eyes were huge and excited, and she was practically vibrating. 

Tamaris gave her a funny look. “Something for me? Like a gift?”

“Not exactly,” she said.

“So what is it?” Tamaris said, slightly nonplussed now. “Did I get a package or something? I didn’t order anything.”

“No, no package,” Athera said. “It’s, um…” She bit her lips as though to hide a smile. “Are you almost finished there?”

Tamaris wilted slightly. Athera’s antics would usually amuse her, but her fuse had been particularly short this week. “Yeah, I’ll be done in a minute,” she said. “Can you make me some coffee?”

“Of course!” Athera hurried away to the kitchen, and Tamaris exhaled and finished up her cleaning routine a little more quickly.

She wandered into the kitchen to find Athera stirring sugar into her coffee. Athera handed her the cup, and she took a fortifying sip before raising her eyebrows. “Okay. What’s this mystery thing you have for me?”

Athera made a face that was somewhere between a smile and a nervous grimace, then took a folded piece of paper out of her pocket and held it out. 

Tamaris took it. “What’s…” She trailed off with a gut-punch of shock. 

Avise. She gaped at the paper for a second, then looked up at Athera. “Where — how the fuck—?” 

“Felassan works in my lab,” Athera blurted. 

“What?” Tamaris said blankly. “He — when did – how…?”

Athera did a little hop. “I know, I know, we were surprised too! He was putting away a laptop when I was getting ready to leave for the day and I mentioned you and he was all surprised, so–”

“Wait,” Tamaris interrupted. “He works in your lab? He — he works at the Ancient Elvhen Studies lab?”

“Yes!” she said brightly. “He teaches classes for Solas and Abelas.”

Tamaris didn’t reply. She didn’t know Felassan worked at the university. He hadn’t told her he worked at the university. All he’d mentioned was his concept art job. Why hadn’t he told her that he worked at U of O?

She scowled at the paper in her hand, then held it out to Athera. “What is this?”

Athera shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t read it.”

“He didn’t tell you what it says?” Tamaris demanded.

“He said—” She broke off with a giggle, then bit her lips and made an apologetic face. “I asked him if it was a love letter, and he said it was the most loving love letter in all of Thedas. Or something like that.”

Tamaris’s heart twisted. She scoffed. “He’s so fucking full of shit.”

“That’s what I said you would say!” Athera laughed, then cleared her throat when Tamaris didn’t smile. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think it’s really a love letter. It only took him about ten seconds to write.”

Tamaris stared at the paper, feeling totally wrong-footed. She’d spent the better part of this week trying to forget about Felassan, ignoring his texts and distracting herself with TV or by coming up with tattoo designs for her online portfolio whenever her thoughts strayed to his cheeky fucking smile and his pretty amethyst eyes. And now, without warning, he’d inserted himself into her life. 

Without warning, here he was: a tangible piece of him in her hands. A piece of paper that his elegant hand had written on — that he’d written that fucking endearment on, to add insult to injury. 

“Well?” Athera said. “Aren’t you going to read it?”

Tamaris shot her a dirty look. “Are you going to keep staring at me until I do?”

“Probably,” Athera said. Her expression was oddly serious now. “I mean, I could pretend I don’t want to know what he wrote, and you definitely don’t have to tell me what it says, but I really think you should read it.”

“Why?” Tamaris said.

“Because…” Athera winced. “Look, no offense, but you’ve been kind of horrible all week, and I think he has something to do with it.”

Tamaris recoiled, scalded by her words. “If you think he has something to do with it, why are you taking his side?”

“I didn’t know there was something to take sides about,” Athera said carefully. “I thought he was just some guy you met last week and decided not to see again.”

Tamaris took a deep breath and rubbed the paper between her fingers. She knew she shouldn’t be feeling so angry about this, but she couldn’t seem to control her temper this week. She’d been feeling off-kilter, as though her internal equilibrium had been totally thrown off, and as much as she hated to admit it, Athera was right: she was being horrible, and Felassan did have something to do with it. 

He had everything to do with it, really. Not that he’d done anything wrong, which only served to make Tamaris feel even more inexplicably angry. 

She glared at Athera. “This is none of your business.”

Athera sighed. “I’ve been getting that a lot today.”

“What are you talking about?” she demanded.

Athera gave her a wheedling look. “I’ll tell you if you read that note.”

Tamaris sighed loudly. “For fuck’s fucking sake.”

At the end of the hall, Nare’s bedroom door opened. She poked her head out. “Is everything okay?”

Tamaris gave Athera a forbidding look, but Athera was annoyingly uncowed; she folded her arms and raised her eyebrows, and unfortunately, this was enough to draw Nare’s concern. 

She stepped out of her room and padded over to them. “What’s going on?” Her eyes fell on the piece of paper in Tamaris’s hand. “What’s that?”

Tamaris hid the paper behind her back, and Athera sighed. “Tam…”

“Leave me alone, okay?” she snapped. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s the problem,” Athera said. She gave her a pleading look. “Just talk to us, okay? Tell us what’s going on. You know we’re not going anywhere until you do. Right?” She looked askance at Nare, and her eyebrows rose. “Hey, are you okay? You look a little flushed.”

Nare smiled. “I’m fine! I was just doing some yoga.”

Athera blinked. “In your bedroom?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to disturb you guys,” she said. She looked at Tamaris. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Tamaris said defensively.

“Felassan is the guy that Tamaris met last week,” Athera said loudly.

Nare’s eyes went wide. “What? Seriously?”

Tamaris slumped in exasperation. “What the fuck, so you know him too?”

“Yes, he teaches my art history seminar,” Nare said. “Is he really the guy you met last week?”

“Yes,” Tamaris grunted. “But he didn’t tell me that he was a teacher at U of O.”

“Why would he tell you?” Nare asked.

Tamaris gave her an arch look. “Are you saying you think it’s okay that he fucking lied to me?”

Nare’s expression grew cautious. “No. It’s just — well, you don’t usually bother to talk much with the guys you meet. Not judging at all, you know I’m not,” she added hurriedly. “But you said yourself that you can't be bothered getting to know them.”

Athera tapped Tamaris’s wrist. “Felassan said you talked for like six hours.”

Tamaris glared at her, but Nare jumped in. “You talked to him for six hours? Really?” She raised her eyebrows playfully. “And here I was thinking you were having marathon sex and keeping all the stories to yourself for some reason.”

Athera giggled. “Me too! I thought she was just holding out on us!”

Tamaris pursed her lips and didn’t reply. After a brief awkward pause, Nare spoke again. “So… so is that a letter from him, then?”

Tamaris scowled, but Athera replied. “Yes, it is. I ran into him at the lab at the end of the day and we just happened to find out that we have Tam in common. He asked me to give that to her.”

Nare smiled. “Aw, that’s cute! What does it say?”

“I don’t know, okay?” Tamaris snapped. “I haven’t read it.”

“Can I read it?” Nare asked teasingly.

Tamaris tucked the letter against her chest. “No!”

Nare chuckled. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Her smile faded. “Seriously though, what’s the problem? Did Felassan do something bad?”

“No,” Tamaris said. She gulped her coffee and burned the roof of her mouth, then set the coffee down on the counter and went to the cupboard. She got a glass and filled it with water and drank the whole thing in five gulps, and when she turned around, Nare and Athera were both looking at her. 

She sneered at them. “Take a fucking photo, it’ll last longer.”

Athera awkwardly tugged her ear, but Nare was unfazed. “What happened with Felassan last week?” she said evenly.

Tamaris swelled with anger, and Athera winced. “Tam, we’re only asking because—”

“Because you care, I know,” Tamaris burst out. “I know you’re being nosy fucks because you care, and I know I’m being a total bitch, but just — I didn’t ask for this, okay?” She gestured angrily with the folded paper in her hand. “I didn’t fucking ask for this. I didn’t want to–” She broke off before she could admit that her feelings for Felassan were more than basely sexual.

She took a deep breath to try and calm her rage. “You want to know what happened last week? We met up at the Neighbour’s House and talked, and he said he’d take me home and fuck me. But we ended up talking at his place and watching half of a movie instead. Then we started fooling around again, and I just — I didn’t want to fuck him anymore, so I came home. Okay?” She glared venomously at them. “That’s what happened. Happy now?”

Nare’s eyebrows were raised. “You didn’t want to have sex with him?”

“I did,” Tamaris gritted. “I — I wanted to fuck him. I just didn’t — I don’t want… the rest of it. I — it’s not fucking worth it.”

Athera’s face softened. “You like him, don’t you?”

A bubble of rage suddenly burst in her chest. “Just fucking drop it, okay?” she yelled. “I know you guys are just trying to be nice but I… I don’t want to do this again. You remember what happened with Perron. You were there!”

“We were,” Nare said softly. “But… Tam, I thought he didn’t matter to you anymore.” 

“He doesn’t matter anymore,” she snapped. “It’s not about him.”

 “Then what is it about?” Nare asked. 

Tamaris glared at them. At this moment, the sympathy in their faces was the last thing she wanted to see. 

She stepped back. “Forget it. I’m going to my room.” She picked up her coffee and stalked down the hall to her bedroom. She slammed the door and sank down onto the floor at the foot of her bed, then brought the coffee to her lips with a trembling hand.

The bitterness of her coffee spread across the surface of her tongue, and it was a fitting match for the bitterness that was pulsing through her chest. It’s not worth it, she thought furiously. It was crazy to put yourself on the line and to give your time and emotional energy to another person. Sure, maybe they wouldn’t turn around and dump you at the moment when you really needed their support, but you couldn’t know that. You could never be sure that the person you loved wasn’t going to fuck you over at the moment when you needed them the most. 

Fucking Perron, she thought furiously. She still couldn’t believe he’d broken up with her right when her brother Marin was in the middle of the worst psychotic episode he’d ever had. 

No, actually, she could believe it. In retrospect, Tamaris should have known that Perron was a selfish shit who would leave her the second he sensed that her attention was divided. He’d always been so fucking needy with his art, always needing to be praised even when his stuff wasn’t that good, and she’d just chalked it up to him being insecure, as many young artists were. But when Marin started acting strange and Tamaris had to keep a closer eye on him, Perron had started complaining. That was when Tamaris really should have known him for the asshole that he was.

She dragged a hand through her hair. Really, she was the one to blame for how things had fallen out. She should have kicked Perron to the curb way before he’d ever had the chance to dump her. But with Marin’s behaviour getting out of control and her parents being completely overwhelmed to the point of uselessness, Tamaris had been so desperate for some kind of anchor to a normal life.

She’d expected Perron to be that anchor. They’d been together for two fucking years, after all. But in the end, Perron had left. Even now, years after Marin was comfortably settled at the group home in Kirkwall, years after Tamaris had stopped giving a shit about Perron, the bitterness still lingered. 

Now, as she stared at the crumpled paper in her fist, she realized how badly that bitterness was poisoning her. After years of guarding herself, of purposely eschewing romantic ties in favour of easy casual sex, she’d finally met someone that she liked enough to consider actually dating. She’d met someone who was clever but kind, charming but genuine, handsome and smooth and a beautiful kisser, but also an unapologetic nerd when it came to his craft.

Now that Tamaris had met Felassan, she was realizing the ugly truth of just how thoroughly her own bitterness had sunk all the way into the core of her heart. 

A tear rolled down her face, and she hastily wiped it away before draining the last dregs of her coffee. It was too sweet, but she wasn’t surprised; that was what she got for asking Athera to make coffee for her. 

She set the cup down on the floor and closed her eyes, feeling totally exhausted by the past ten minutes. When she was finally feeling some semblance of calm, she unfolded the note from Felassan. 

Tamaris:

I can imagine your lovely scowl as you’re reading this. It would be my honour (and pleasure) to witness that lovely scowl again in person.

By the time you’re reading this, I’ll be at the Neighbour’s House having a drink. I’ll be here until Krem gets sick of me – in other words, until closing time. (He never gets sick of me. I am incredibly entertaining. And a very good tipper.)

I know what you’re thinking: I am full of shit. I dare you to say so to my face. 

Yours, Felassan

She snorted a little laugh. He was such a cheeky shit. 

Another tear rolled down her face. She impatiently wiped it away, but the next thing she knew, she was sobbing.

She dropped the letter on the floor and crawled onto her bed, then curled up and buried her face in a pillow so Nare and Athera wouldn’t hear her. Fucking Felassan, she thought furiously. Why did he have to come bursting into her life and messing up her routine? Sure, maybe her life was stale and unexciting, but it was stable. It was predictable. It wasn’t a constant fucking up-and-down of emotions, not like the years it had taken for Marin to even out.

But Felassan was ruining that. With two encounters, one Instagram conversation, a few clever texts and one hastily-scrawled note, Felassan was turning her stable routine and her emotional landscape upside down. He was making her into a fucking mess with his charm and his enthusiasm and his stupid banter and his stupid beautiful gemlike eyes, and Tamaris didn’t fucking want this.

Except that she did. She… fuck, she actually wanted him. Despite all the shit she’d gone through with Perron and the hard-earned lesson to cast aside love in favour of emotionless sex instead, her stupid heart wanted Felassan, and she was fucking terrified. 

She sobbed and clutched her pillow. She hated feeling this way — this throbbing ache in her chest that was forcing its way through her throat in a helpless spill of tears. She hadn’t cried like this in years, having purposely avoided any situations that would lead to this kind of bullshit. And now, after one stunningly memorable date, she was a fucking mess. 

She would have to ignore his letter. That’s all there was to it. She would ignore his invitation just like she’d ignored his texts and her own invasive memories of his smile, and she’d go back to her nice boring stable life of doing tattoos and binge-watching TV and fucking random guys when she really got the urge.

But you don’t want to fuck random guys, a tiny masochistic voice said at the back of her mind. You want Felassan.

She gripped her hair in her fists. When her hands started to hurt from the tension, she released her hair and rolled onto her back.

She stared up at the ceiling of her bedroom. Ghosting Felassan was the smart thing to do. She just needed a little more time to forget him, that was all. And she could start by deleting his texts from her phone.

She reached into the pocket of her sweatpants and pulled out her phone, then swiped into her texts.

Read the rest on AO3! (I’m sorry, I just refuse to format the texts here. I HAVE A LIFE TO LIVE. 😂😂😂)

[magicalforcesau]

Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden~ Chapter 7- Year 1: February

(Ao3 link)

One thing Obi-Wan and Satine agreed upon was that despite their shocking discovery in an unsuspecting broom closet, they should do their utmost to maintain decorum. The very last thing they needed was every student getting it in their heads to explore the school for secret tunnels. Regardless of what this meant for their pending investigation(s), keeping the peace was essential if they wanted to get any further.

The second thing they agreed about was whom to share this information with, which considering the perilous circumstances that were already weighing on this school year, logically meant heading straight for Headmaster Yoda. For the busiest wizard in the school, he saw them quickly and took their accounts very seriously, even going as far as to follow them and excuse them from their studies for the morning to help clue him in.

Unfortunately, as far as agreement went, that was as far as it went between Obi-Wan and Satine. 

“You didn’t show him the robe.” Satine said tersely as they walked back to the common room to pick up their books for their afternoon classes. 

He sighed, knowing in the back of his mind that this confrontation was inevitably coming, even if he chose to ignore it all day, “You know why.”

“We took an oath to lead without bias.” She returned with the same level tone. “In case you’ve forgotten.”

“And I am insulted you would insinuate that’s why.” He walked along her step-for-step and felt the blood boil in his face. No, he would not break first.

“You’re withholding evidence!” She waved her hands around, turning her back to him so she could ascend up the winding stairs, “And you know it.”

“A discarded robe is hardly evidence when we know for certain that this alleged cheater has been masquerading as a Slytherin this entire time! If anything, it likely exempts Anakin as a suspect and quite possibly, Gryffindor house.” 

“Or,” Satine said archly, “Your tornado of a mentee has been running around the tunnels this entire time, as insinuated by a conversation we overheard between him and Rex.”

“My-” He shook his head, and while he would normally quell his rising tone, freely continued without hesitation when noticing they were alone in the common room, “My what of a mentee? You have the audacity to call me biased when you’ve had it out for Anakin this entire bloody time!”

“I do not have it out for him, Ben!” She implored, for once not as angry as him and more exasperated than anything else, “I don’t have the time or energy to hold grudges against 11 year old’s!”

“And yet,” He rounded the couch, dramatic as that may be, “At every single turn you insist on accusing him before even pausing to think about other possibilities.”

“Then read them to me!” She snapped, “Because here are the facts that I see: Anakin has admitted to discovering the tunnel system on Halloween night, Anakin is always popping up seemingly out of nowhere, Anakin is the only one to score 100% on Professor Windu’s homework assignments lately, we found his robe inside the physical tunnel, and Rex and Anakin were literally talking about his going out the night before.”

He clenched his jaw and stuck out his hand, tallying off rebukes to each of her statements, “Professor Windu and Yoda confirmed a trap door leading to those tunnels, making it quite possibly an accident, Anakin is a quiet and sneaky little boy, he is so frightened of Windu that he doesn’t want to set him off and actually tries in that class, I still stand by my previous statement of this being an easy frame-job, and that conversation was so obviously taken out of context.”

She rubbed at her temples, “I’m not sure what kind of “research” you and Qui-Gon do during your not-so-secret late night investigations, thank you for the invitation, by the way, but you are being absolutely delusional.”

Obi-Wan’s jaw went slack as he floundered a bit at her knowing that. He sniffed and straightened his posture. It never remotely occurred to him that Satine would want to be involved. He’d been far too concerned about Anakin to think of it. Any guilt that might have snuck its way into his chest was just as easily banished when he remembered why they were quarreling in the first place.

“You’re being petty.” He said calmly.

“Maybe I am.” She retorted and made her way over to the bookcase that led to the girl’s dormitory, “And maybe I’ll relent on pettiness when you decide to wake up and look at what’s right in front of you.”

***

Anakin was unsure what was up with Obi-Wan, but the older wizard seemed incredibly tense when he caught up with him by the prefect bathroom on the third floor. Evidently, Hondo had snuck inside and tried to promote his new business venture by scribbling his information on the bathroom stalls. 

“Why do prefects even get their own bathrooms anyway?” Anakin thought aloud, “What’s so great about you guys that you need to pee in private?”

Obi-Wan sighed through his nose and kept his stare straight, “I’m afraid I don’t have a proper answer for you Anakin.”

Anakin would normally pester for at least a slightly more riveted response, but it didn’t seem like his mentor was in the mood. Because of this, he read the room and assumed it was not the time to bring up the herbology essay he had due in a few days that remained untouched at the moment.

“You look tired.” Obi-Wan said after a long period without talking. 

“I was up late.” He said.

“So, I’ve heard.” Obi-Wan replied dryly and Anakin stopped in his tracks.

“Windu told you?” He whined. “Man, Echo and Fives were already giving me a hard time for costing Gryffindor 10 more points.”

Something in Obi-Wan stiffened again before turning back to look at Anakin with a calm yet scrutinizing stare, “He caught you out of bed late.”

“Yeah, I had a really bad dream about-” He wasn’t sure why, but Anakin knew he shouldn’t share his experience with Dooku and Palpatine to Obi-Wan. It was far from the concept of mistrust, but more because it felt sacred. Palpatine followed Anakin’s beliefs without question and saw them through to the end, even enlisting Professor Dooku along as well. Even then, Anakin hadn’t shared entirely what he’d seen. He didn’t want to until he knew for certain.

“-About the Zillo Beast.” Which was a lie and yet it came much easier than the truth of talking about the true threat. Maybe this was why Anakin was initially accepting of the beast’s death sentence. He thought it might solve something within him, but it didn’t and it wouldn’t. “I went looking for Qui-Gon.”

Obi-Wan paused and Anakin wondered if he was actually going to believe him, before softening and guilt twisted in the young boy’s gut. 

He placed a supportive hand on his shoulder as they continued to walk, “You shouldn’t wander the castle alone. It isn’t safe.”

“You do it.” He mumbled.

“I’m not the one with a price on my head.” His voice was gentle and he seemed considerably eased in comparison to the beginning of their conversation, but his eyes were still stern, “Though I can’t necessarily blame you for seeking out Qui-Gon.”

“Windu didn’t even listen to me.” Anakin said glumly.

“Professor Windu tends to look only at the facts presented in front of him,” And for once, Obi-Wan appeared to grow mad at this thought, “Which can admittedly delude one from the connecting factors.”

“It’s like he thinks I’m guilty of something that I don’t even know about.” He shrugged.

His mentor ran a hand through his immaculately combed hair and sighed, “I know what you mean.”

***

Cody tried to stifle a chuckle as he watched his two best friends try to pretend like they weren’t utterly pissed with each other during breakfast. Because it was “strictly prefect business”, neither had opted to share the dirty details of their most recent quarrel with Cody, but from what he could tell, it was personal.

Obi-Wan was typically the more apologetic of the two by nature. Satine tended to dig her heels into the ground to stick up for what she believed in while Obi-Wan was a bit more open-minded. Obi-Wan often said the wrong thing based on past bias that hurt Satine’s feelings and Satine usually let him know it with her own fires that upset him. He always knew they would bounce back, because they always did. It was the nature of their friendship and most of the time, he just had to sit back and watch.

The roles seemed to be reversed this time around, which was always an interesting change-up. Obi-Wan clearly was being headstrong about his beliefs this time, which eliminated it being over any sort of familial relation and Satine was exasperated with his mindset and had likely said something offensive in the process.

Did that stop them from sitting side-by-side and attending all of their classes and obligations together? Apparently not.

It didn’t mean they were above passive aggression. 

“Just to let you know, pretending that those pancakes are Kenobi’s face isn’t going to make the anger go away.” He quipped and Satine set aside her utensils, of which she was previously butchering her pancakes with.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything except:  “So, OWLS.”

It seemed the subject of OWLS was the only thing that prevented the two of them from biting each other’s heads off. He didn’t know how, since the idea of standardized testing always made Cody feel at risk of his own head exploding.

“Before you go all “post-Quidditch-loss” glum, I’ve devised a schedule to optimize all of our success.” Satine reached across the table and patted Cody’s hand.

He smiled, relieved that he didn’t have to say anything at all for them to understand his concerns.

“I might straight up fail out of my potions exam.” He grimaced, “I think I tie with Hondo for the most explosions in that class.”

“Except Hondo’s might be intentional.” Obi-Wan mused before shrugging, “So, we’ll pay extra attention on that one.”

“I’ve already accounted for that, actually.” Satine said curtly, but didn’t add in any snark, and showed him the color-coded schedule she’d assembled.

“Defense Against the Dark Arts is pretty low on the priority list.” Cody commented, not really thinking that much on it. They all did sufficiently well with Kenobi being the most proficient at the subject, as he was at most things. However, he expected it to be quite hard, with Dooku being behind it and all.

“Well,” Satine’s voice was even more clipped now, “It’s not like any of us will be needing it next year.”

It was the first time it had been mentioned- even indirectly, but from across the table, Cody had optimum viewership of the way Kenobi’s entire body seemed to grow incredibly taut. Truthfully, Cody had never asked what happened during his friends’ meetings with the headmaster. He figured they would all eventually be forthcoming with what transpired and Satine had done as such with her decision to work for the ministry, but Kenobi hadn’t said anything. 

He cleared his throat, “That’s alright. I mean, I don’t love spending my time thinking about that stiff, Dooku, anyway.”

His attempt at levity didn’t work much. It was almost like he hadn’t spoken at all.

Obi-Wan looked stuck between a scathing comment and retreating altogether while Satine seemed like she was daring him to do either. It gave her a different excuse to be frustrated or annoyed and that seemed to be what she wanted. 

Obi-Wan finally broke the silence between them, “Regardless of what we use, we ought to do plenty of research. You know, in-depth analysis that isn’t taken purely at face value.”

“That is true.” She said coolly, “But true research is, of course, at least acknowledging a clear trajectory as opposed to ignoring it simply because you do not like it.”

“True research is also about being able to trust your participant’s judgment.” He said, “Which is why only few are eligible to participate in the first place.”

“It’s got nothing to do with trust and everything to do with refusing to collaborate.” She snapped, “And- You know what? Nevermind. I feel like I’m talking myself in circles here. I’ll see you both at a later time for studying. I’ve got to go help Vizsla prepare for his potions project.”

“Be sure to make the smiley faces extra obnoxious this time.” Obi-Wan called after her. 

Satine gave him a not-so-friendly hand gesture and disappeared from the Great Hall with the only trace being the deflated Obi-Wan Kenobi, who watched where she left with a curious mixture of contempt and admiration.

“So,” Cody folded his hands, “Is Anakin prepared for his potions project?”

Obi-Wan grimaced, “Never actually told me there was a project. So, no.”

***

Anakin wasn’t exactly surprised to be summoned into Qui-Gon’s office that following day, given he was sure Obi-Wan passed on any concerns about Anakin to the professor. It was complicated in a sense, because while Anakin appreciated having people who looked out for him in favor of the alternative, he wanted to prove that he could sort out his own issues and didn’t need babysitters. 

“How can you lecture me about not getting any sleep when Obi-Wan has looked like a zombie half the time these days?” Anakin protested.

Qui-Gon poured him a cup of tea that Anakin would fail to feign enjoyment of and chuckled softly. “Do you truly believe I haven’t lectured Obi-Wan about his self-care habits?”

“I haven’t seen you do it.” Anakin said.

“Same as Obi-Wan isn’t present now, I try to keep my chastising towards only him. In any case, I did not invite you here to discuss your sleeping habits. At least, not in the way you believe.”

Anakin was thankful to have the teacup in order to have something to do. Even if tea did usually taste like rooty leaf water. 

“Have you ever heard of parseltongue?” Qui-Gon asked calmly.

He scrunched up his nose- both in response to the gross taste of the tea and in confusion over what the professor just asked him.

“Is that a disease?” He asked.

“No,” He chuckled and set his own teacup down, “It’s the language of the serpents as well as those who can communicate with them.”

“Who would want to talk to a bunch of snakes?” Anakin questioned, “I’d rather talk to a shark or dog or something.”

“Salazar Slytherin saw it to be a very useful trait. He didn’t just use it to speak to snakes, but influence them as well.” He said, “Most parselmouths, as the speakers are generally called, derive from his bloodline.”

Anakin tapped his chin, truly trying to think about what this had to do with him. It wasn’t like his dreams ever involved snakes. Then again, he had told Obi-Wan he’d been dreaming about the Zillo Beast, who while unlike a dragon as previously discussed in Palpatine’s class, could have been more like a snake.

“Is this about the Zillo Beast?” He broke the silence, which had previously only been filled by the soft crackling of the hearth central to Qui-Gon’s office. It made Anakin remember with clarity his moment on Diagon Alley, when the dark wizard was speaking to the flames.

“Not directly,” Qui-Gon said and pulled out a book that appeared to be some sort of translator, “The night of the holiday party when you were incapacitated, you were muttering… Words in parseltongue.”

“That’s not possible!” Anakin frowned, “I’m horrible at second language. You should have seen my French grades in school.”

“Parseltongue is not typically something learned, Anakin. It can be mimicked, but most of the time it is a purely genetic trait.” He said.

“But, that would mean...” Anakin didn’t have a proper answer for that. His mother had left him so in the dark regarding wizard lineage that he didn’t have a rebuttal for why he spoke a hereditary language among snakes. It sounded cool enough, but Qui-Gon was doing that thing adults did when they tried terribly hard to appear calm, even if they weren’t. 

“I don’t expect you to have the answers.” Qui-Gon said gently, “It’s quite possible you were simply relaying the message of the dark wizard that poisoned you. However, as word of these dreams persists, I’m concerned that you are… Seeing things that could be of assistance.”

Anakin squirmed in his seat, unsure how to possibly express that he was already looking into this with Dooku and Palpatine. However, neither of them had mentioned parseltongue. Maybe there was something Qui-Gon could decipher that they couldn’t.

“The word you primarily kept muttering over and over again, was “Vader”, which is German, for-”

“Father?” Anakin guessed, having to really dig in the crevices of his mind to a day where his school was not one of magical ability. 

“Exactly that.” Qui-Gon paused, “Forgive me if this is out of turn, Anakin, but do you find it possible that your father could have anything to do with this?”

“My father is a muggle. I never knew him.” Anakin said tersely and tried not to make it sound as foul as it tasted to say.

Qui-Gon’s eyes grew very sad as he nodded, “Very well. I will continue to search for any other utterances that strike out. And Anakin, please remember that you can always talk to me should your dreams trouble you any longer.”

“Yes, Professor.” Anakin said, but it felt more automatic than anything, because the mention of his deadbeat father, who didn’t so much as have a face to Anakin, made him feel a numbness that he hadn’t remembered for a long time. “Hopefully, I’m not busted by Windu next time.” He added, trying to add a sprig of humor to his voice.

Qui-Gon frowned, “When did this happen?”

“Two nights ago while he was on patrol.”

“Windu wasn’t supposed to-” He cut himself off in what seemed to be intense thought. “Well, I will talk to him.”

Anakin took this as his cue to leave, but turned back to catch Qui-Gon staring thoughtfully in space, feeling his skin prick from the unspoken accusations that floated aimlessly between them. Windu was not supposed to be roaming the castle either that night.

So, what was he doing?

***

“I’ve searched each path as instructed, Headmaster.” Mace Windu walked into the room without any warning of his arrival.The little headmaster was propped up on a stack of firm pillows in order to see over his desk, which no doubt had been designed for someone of the height of the average adult. His eyes were bright this evening and his long green ears perked up when he noticed he had company. 

“Found nothing, have you?” He spoke in that reversed verbiage that had become commonplace for Windu to understand. 

“The tunnel that led to the Zillo Beast is significantly newer than the rest of the tunnel systems.” He said with a nod of concession, “The infrastructure of these tunnels are ancient in make- whereas the tunnel that led to that dark lair was only meant to look old for aesthetic.”

“Sealed these tunnels should have been.” Yoda said gravely, “Meant for dark magic and smuggling, they initially were.”

Mace Windu knew this and while his peers and students would likely assess that he was an extreme stickler for the rules, he was not by any means unreasonable. He did not see the pure dangers of these tunnels for merely existing. Should they receive proper care and supervision, they just became different pathways to class. 

“Would you like me to seal them?” He asked.

“Tried many times, I have.” Yoda shook his head, “Against the will of the school, it is.”

Mace frowned, “Against the will of the school? With all due respect, Headmaster, regardless of all the magic in the world, this place is not physically alive.”

“Hmm,” Yoda gave him a look of appraisal, “Sure of that, are you?”

“It is not sentient.” He responded plainly, “It doesn’t have a beating heart or required source of sustenance. Biologically, it is not living.”

“Constrained, your definition of alive is.” He said, “The beating heart, the students are. The sustenance, knowledge is. Sentient, it is not, but intentions, it does have. For as long as it’s needed, alive, Hogwarts is.”

It took much patience to prevent himself from releasing an impatient sigh. Really, he knew what Yoda meant, but working amongst those that refused to see things straightforward could be frustrating. He supposed he was already spared enough from Qui-Gon’s presence for the night. Then, he’d be double-teamed.

“That does not help us with preventing another attack.” He said with folded arms.

“Then, the matter of the cheater, there is.” Yoda added thoughtfully.

“You’ve already declined my suspicions.” Mace said, trying too hard not to sound bitter about being rejected. 

“Keep looking, we must.” He pulled out a wrinkled map from his desk drawer. It was a map that was enchanted to show the whereabouts of every student in the school. It showed the blueprint of every location with the exception of the secret tunnels. His little green hand slid the map towards Mace. “Patrol the tunnels again, you shall, but tell anyone, you must not.”

***

He was in the hallway, late for class or at least he thought he should be. The sky was blue and he could hear birds, but the clouds looked stormy. He turned away from the window, but no one was there. In fact this wasn’t the hallway at all.

He was in the library, but it was loud and there were no windows. The book shelves seemed to trap him, he couldn’t walk towards the entrance, or try to find Obi-Wan at his usual table; whenever he tried it was only another shelf of books. He tried to grab at one, maybe there was a secret passage he’d missed somehow, but the books were stuck in place. He grabbed one with both hands and he pulled on it so hard his feet left the ground for a second, but still it didn’t budge.

He decided to continue down the passageway. He wasn’t even sure why that book stood out to him so much. Still, his hands itched to rip it from the shelf. It’s spine had been a deep blue, so deep in fact that it may as well have been black, he hadn’t caught the title, but it must have been important.

Before he could turn around and go back for it, a drop of water fell onto his hand. He looked up and realized it was too dark to see, looking behind him he could no longer see any books. The only light in the room were the walls, dazzling bright lights burst out of the carvings there. Stick figures were walking with him on either side and although they didn’t have mouths or really any way to make noise, he could hear them chanting almost like it was coming from the beat of his own heart.

“Vader, Vader, Vader,” It echoed in his mind even if he wasn’t sure he was really hearing it or not. He tried to tune it out as he continued, nowhere else to go, but the figures continued to follow him, glowing eerily in the dark.

He felt eyes on him, like he was being followed, but when he turned around there was nothing. He turned to continue forward picking up his pace. His heart was hammering louder and with it the chant did too.

“Vader, Vader, Vader,” He hit the end of the hallway. 

The Zillo Beast’s cage.

The beast was no longer there, but the bars had narrowed and there was no way for him to squeeze his way in, or escape from to the other side. He looked left and right, but there were bars there too, so he turned slowly, heart pounding, head filled with chants to see he’d been trapped. There was no way to escape. He pulled at the bars, even tried to climb them, but his palms were slippery with sweat and it seemed as if his strength had left him.

From the shadows he heard a deep voice speaking, but of what he couldn’t hear over the chant:

“Vader, Vader, Vader,”

Footsteps he felt more than heard were coming towards him at a painstakingly slow pace. He was pulling desperately on the bars, but his hands continued to slip. He saw a glint of silver from the darkness and he knew it was the blade he and Rex had seen. Then he saw the man’s robes, still no face, but it was damning enough. The dark robes, nothing fancy, but the inside was a deep mauve which stood out almost unnaturally in the darkness. The color was practically blinding, hypnotising him into standing still, hands sliding off the bars to fall at his side. Their surroundings had changed and he didn’t even notice, trees had sprung up around them and they leaned towards him as if to mock his suffering.

The sword was being raised, it glinted ruby red and the blade looked golden although he was certain it was meant to be silver. The hood of the cloak shifted though it still revealed no face; it did however allow the cloak to move in such a way that a wand was visible, if only for a, strangely long, second.

It was a twisting dark wood wand, blackthorn, he knew almost immediately because he’d seen such a wand before. It was a wand that did such elegant wand work for its owner, crafting the most beautiful charms.

A wand that belonged to Professor Mace Windu.

The sword swung.

***

Anakin’s eyes shot open and he pressed a hand, still twisted in his sheets, to his mouth to stifle the cry he was sure he’d made. He didn’t dare to move, eyes roving around the parts of the room he could see, but there was no glint of silver or gold, no mauve-lined robes, and no twisted blackthorn wand. He heard a rustle from behind him and he snapped instantly to a sitting position, grasping his wand he’d kept under his pillow in trembling hands pointing it towards the source of the sound.

Rex was rubbing his eyes and looking blearily at him.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was thick with sleep and Anakin lowered his wand, but he didn’t loosen his grip. Although Rex had already done so, he couldn’t allow his voice to break the silence of the room. His heart was beating quickly and he could almost hear a voice speaking behind the sound, but of what, he did not know. 

“Are you ok?” Rex looked more awake now, and more awake translated to more concerned. Rex slipped out of bed and Anakin tried to focus on the soft patter of feet before Rex was climbing onto Anakin’s four-poster and whispering quietly, “Did you have a bad dream again?”

The fears and terrible memories swelled forward and Anakin felt his breath catch and tears slip from the corners of his eyes. He was trembling and he tried to stop by clutching his wand tighter, but all that did was allow a few golden sparks to fizzle out the end.

“It’s Windu, Rex,” Anakin said although he was sure the shakiness of his voice would not sound convincing, “I saw the tunnel again, but it felt different, like a warning, not a memory,” He was crying now, much as he tried to banish the tears.

“What do you remember?” Rex asked, he wrapped an arm around Anakin’s shoulders, and Anakin had to fight with himself to not cry into his friend's shoulder. He wanted his mum. She’d make things better. For the first time he really wondered if she had been right to stay away from the wizarding world.

“I was in the tunnel, but this time I got put into a cage,” He explained to distract himself, “He had that sword, the one we found and then there were trees.”

“And you’re sure it was Windu?” Rex asked and Anakin nodded frantically.

“His robes were lined with purple, like the scrap we found,” He pushed, “It was so bright like it wanted me to see, and the sword he had… it should have been silver, but it was gold and red-”

“Gryffindor colors,” Rex gasped, pulling away in shock.

“And I saw his wand,” Anakin wiped away tears, “It was Windu.”

“We have to tell Obi-Wan,” Rex whispered with a frown, but Anakin shook his head and practically leaped across the other boy to grab his shoulder.

“We can’t! Obi-Wan doesn’t believe me,” Anakin reminded him.

“But what if it is a warning? If he’s planning to do something-” Rex’s forehead wrinkled as he considered the little knowledge they had.

“He’s too cunning,” Anakin shook his head sadly, “The whole school thinks he’s great. Qui-Gon would hear me out, but without proof he can’t do anything! Everyone at this stupid school would rather have me dead then believe me!” 

This had been weighing on his heart for some time now. He looked to the wand in his hand. When it chose him, he had been elated, it had been one of the best days of his life. To be chosen to do magic and study away at a castle in the hills had easily surpassed everything he’d ever wished for. He wondered now, if it hadn’t been a blessing, but one big curse he was playing into.

“That’s not true,” Rex patted him on the shoulder, “I believe you,” Anakin felt his eyes tearing up again, but he threw his arms around his best friend before they could fall, “If Windu tries to get you, he’ll have to go through me too!”

“Thanks Rex,” Anakin failed at steadying his voice once more, “You're the best friend I could ever ask for.”

***

Anakin awoke to the feeling of his eyelashes being stuck together. So, he scrubbed at his eyes until he could open them enough to see Rex, who must have fallen asleep, still in Anakin’s bed. He was wrapped in all the sheets in a way only the youngest of such a large family could and he only woke up when Anakin tried to pull some of them back.

“Get your own blanket,” He grumbled without opening his eyes, clutching onto what he could with an iron grip.

“These are mine,” Anakin complained, tugging harder. Rex opened his eyes then and sat up, allowing the blankets to fall from his hands as he realized he was in fact, a thief.

“Ah, whoops,” He grinned sheepishly, “Sorry mate, Fives always did say I was a blanket hog.” 

Anakin just shrugged. As if both remembering how they ended up fighting over blankets in the first place, Anakin’s face fell and Rex’s drifted back into concern, “Any more dreams?”

“No,” Anakin shook his head, “But I’m not sure anything could top that last one even if I did,” He admitted and Rex just frowned, slipping off the bed and towards his trunk.

“Well if you don’t want to talk to anyone, maybe we should keep an eye on Windu?” Rex suggested.

“How so? Last time he caught me out of bed I got in trouble and I wasn’t even doing anything,” Anakin complained and Rex just gave him a look.

“The map, you idiot,” And he slapped a hand to his forehead, grabbing it from under his mattress.

“You’re right!” He held the paper up to the light before suddenly dropping it into his pocket and looking around to ensure none of the other first years were awake.

***

“So, Windu’s been going off property, huh?” Rex thought aloud as he and Anakin walked down the winding hill of the front entrance. Anakin’s eyes were glued to the map that rested on top of his textbook, trying to accurately see where the map tapered off. “That’s weird, I find it hard to imagine any of the professors having actual lives- let alone someone as stiff as him.”

“I just assumed they all lived at Hogwarts.” Anakin shrugged, “I guess that would be a little odd.”

“Some of them do.” Rex pointed out, “But yeah, I can’t really see any of them exactly going out on the town and grabbing a beer.”

“Most of them could use one.” He said and frowned, “It still shows us on the map.”

Eventually, a professor or prefect was bound to look and see the two first years drifting seemingly aimlessly across the lawn, looking like they were up to no good, and would surely corral them in. In reality, Rex really needed to study for Charms, but knew Anakin had the subject on lock. Despite being under clear scrutiny with Windu, Anakin had a natural talent for the subject that Rex might never understand. 

That being said, even coupled with the crunchy snow that they squashed beneath their boots and the damp wind that smacked them in the face, there was something about the wide open stretch of white landscape before them that promised the possibilities of great adventure. 

“The grounds are very large.” Rex voiced his thoughts, “I reckon it’ll show us all the way to Hogsmeade if we let it.”

Rex knew the smile that appeared on Anakin’s face quite well. It was one of both determination and mischief and admittedly, it sparked excitement with Rex as well. 

“I don’t see the harm in trying it.” He grinned and then gave pause, “Though, we probably should take an alternative route.”

“I could go for a butterbeer.” Rex answered with a smile that matched his friend’s. 

“I’ve never had one.” Anakin said.

“Great, a bonus mission, then.”

***

Satine prided herself on the ability to multitask. She could simultaneously observe that the first years were behaving as they enjoyed their time after school in the Great Hall, playing board games and chatting amicably, while also trying to mentally construct what she was to do for their latest Charms project.

It was an interesting one, for sure, which involved presenting a counter-charm in front of the class. She and Obi-Wan had paired together of course and despite her recent frustrations with the boy in question, had no worries about their imminent productivity.

Aayla and Stass, who always worked together, were not as confident in the merit of their own work ethic.

“Would you happen to know the counter-charm to my brain melting through my ears?” Stass groaned as she slumped off the bench and onto the floor.

They didn’t have to sit with her while she essentially babysat the younger students, but neither girl seemed to have anywhere else to be and Satine would be a liar to say she didn’t appreciate the company. 

“It’s only a counter-charm if it’s actually you know, countering a different charm.” Satine said with a smile, not taking her eyes off her scan of the crowd. She spotted Viz, who sat in the far corner to the right with a few other students around him. It was a relief to Satine that he’d found more friends. He’d been such a loner in the beginning of the year, only really seen occasionally beside Anakin Skywalker.

Satine bit her tongue. She was especially glad he found other friends.

“We could go simple, you know. That is always an option.” Aayla said, “A locking and unlocking display wouldn’t hurt us.”

“You know Windu will have a well-timed and well-deserved lecture about taking the easy way out.” Stass sighed, “He’d rather see us fail at something hard than opt for something too easy.”

“When you’re right, you’re right.” Aayla flopped backwards so she was lying flat on the bench. One of her blue lekku dangled over the side, just barely above the stone floor. “What are you and Kenobi working on?”

“We haven’t discussed it yet, actually.” Satine kept her hands folded in her lap and tried not to appear visibly cross with him, even if most could tell by the way they behaved around each other. It didn’t help when she could practically feel the curious stares of her prying and procrastinating friends.

“You haven’t come up with the full plans for the project?” Stass gaped, “But it’s been a whole week since it was assigned.”

“I’ve been a little busy, you know.” She pointed out, “Those essays for potions were not exactly what I’d call a fun time.”

“You still got the best grade in the class.” Aayla said.

“Second best.” She corrected almost automatically. “By a whopping half point.”

“Good thing you’re not keeping score.” She smirked.

Satine rolled her eyes. She really wasn’t. So, it was in her nature to be a little competitive when it came to academics. It was always in good nature. She was never mad when he scored better than her on something… Just, determined to be better for her own sake. 

She was already considered at a disadvantage at this school for being a muggle-born. She didn’t grow up with magic the way many had. Satine merely felt the need to fill in those gaps in whatever way she could. If it were always easy for her and she was simply always the best, she would grow uninspired. In comparison to this, she always had someone to walk in tandem with in terms of intellect, even if that person was presently being an idiot.

As if on cue, Obi-Wan Kenobi walked into the Great Hall, scanning the crowd with determined eyes until they landed on her. She cocked an eyebrow in response, contrasting the smile she might shoot him if she weren’t still cross with him. Most students liked to relax after the course of the school day, which might involve untucking their shirts, rolling up their sleeves, loosening their ties, or removing their jumpers. Obi-Wan was far from “most students” and almost constantly opted to dress with the primness of a new day.

He walked over to her, but kept turning his head around the crowd. Most students spared him a brief look of concern, noting that two prefects in one area was rarely a good thing, but seemed to recognize Obi-Wan and Satine’s close friendship and continued on with their antics.

It was refreshing in a sense, because the little first years were not nearly as concerned with their friendship as say, third or fourth years were. Satine could not quite fathom why.

“Hey, Kenobi! Here to talk strategy for the match?” Aayla teased as he got closer. 

Satine wasn’t sure how she managed to forget that Ravenclaw’s next Quidditch match was in just a couple weeks’ time, but she guessed her increasing annoyance with her most valuable player was a large component of this. 

Obi-Wan chuckled and shook his head, “No, but that doesn’t mean I’ll say no to advice on how to keep my head on straight against Ventress’s vital blows.”

“Keep the ball from going in the hoop for a start.” Stass offered.

“Mind-blowing. Please go into sports analytics.” Aayla playfully jabbed her friend’s torso with her pointed toes. 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” Obi-Wan said with a smile that faded into caution when he finally regarded Satine, “May I speak to you alone?”

“That depends, are you going to acknowledge my thoughts and opinions or will you be ignoring all of that completely?” She replied sarcastically and not quite caring if they had witnesses. Obi-Wan could read that the moment he came into the room and she knew it.

“Satine…” He begged quietly in a voice he rarely reserved for anyone else.

She hated how her heart still skipped a bit when looking at him for too long and in favor of avoiding the embarrassment of flushing red in front of her friends, she slid off the table and wordlessly joined him across the room. They could still manage to watch over the first years if they needed to, but it was slightly more secluded.

“I’m assuming this doesn’t have to do with our Charms homework.” She said, but frowned as she noticed he was still searching the crowd with growing tension in his form. “What’s up with you?”

He gave another onceover across the room before returning his gaze back to her and she realized with growing clarity that he wasn’t simply looking from the perspective of a prefect that was trying to do his job, but someone who was actively looking for something else.

Or, as she considered the entirety of first years filling the Great Hall, someone.

“You’re looking for Anakin, aren’t you?” She said with the shake of her head. 

“And Rex.” Obi-Wan sighed, “They skipped their final class today.”

She knitted her eyebrows together, “So-”

“-For the record, this does not mean you were right.” He said pointedly. “These could be two completely unrelated incidents.”

“Oh, well, heaven forbid that ever be the case,” She drawled and crossed her arms over her chest, “And I wasn’t about to say anything of that matter, actually. It’s still my responsibility to ensure the safety of younger students, regardless of who they are.”

“I’m just ensuring you won’t use this as an opportunity to lay a preemptive “I told you so” on me.” 

She bristled, “It’s good to know your faith in me is ever persistent.” 

“I’m here for assistance, aren’t I?” He retorted.

“Are you?” She frowned, “Because you’ve got a funny way of asking for it.”

“Please?” He returned to that gentler tone that stroked something soft in her chest and she shoved it somewhere deep where she didn’t have to think about it… For now. 

She sighed, “Let’s check the common rooms first.”

***

Anakin walked the secret tunnels beneath Hogwarts with enough confidence to make an outside viewer think he carved them out himself. It certainly paralleled significantly to a few months before when he’d merely been eager to see them in the first place. Rex held his glowing wand over the map and huddled close to Anakin as they followed its lead to see just where the map trailed off. 

Even without the map, it was obvious they were no longer beneath the castle as it was beginning to feel like a refrigerator as they continued onwards.

“You know, this is an awful long path for a shortcut.” Rex muttered.

“Pretty straightforward too.” Anakin commented, noting that they had only made one or two minor turns in their trek towards Hogsmeade.

“I wonder what shop we’ll drop in on.” Rex said, though it wasn’t the first he’d thought of it. “It might look a bit funny to pop up behind a merchandise shelf in Zonko’s or something.”

“As long as Windu doesn’t catch us, we’re good.” He said, “He’s observing Slytherin’s Quidditch practice in place of Palpatine. I’d say we’re in the clear for now.”

“I gotta hand it to ya, mate,” Rex began, “Despite all the thinly veiled threats, you really don’t ever quit, do you?”

“Hogwarts is my home.” Anakin said sharply, his high-pitched voice echoing off the wet stone walls, “And I want to keep it safe. I can’t do that if some creep is trying to kill me at every left turn.”

If Rex was going to argue that they were too young to be so protective of their school, he didn’t give any indication of it. It was a relief to have someone in his life that wasn’t so quick to comment on the more augmented portions of Anakin’s statements. 

They walked a little longer in comfortable silence. The only space that filled them was the sounds of their boots sloshing around in puddles. Lining the walls was ice and while there didn’t appear to be any icy patches, the ground was a bit crunchy from snow previously tracked in. 

It was strange, Anakin was beginning to feel even safer in the tunnels than he did walking through the main corridors of Hogwarts. Of course, he felt plenty fine going to and from class as was expected of him. However, exploration of Hogwarts on the surface was strangely forbidden, clearly containing more secrets than the teachers could manage. It was easier to delve deeper.

Not only that, but knowing there was a straight escape out of the building if need be was a bit comforting for Anakin. Seeing as his life had been attempted twice at this point, it was always good to know. That, or if Sebulba figured out it was he who turned his bed into a swamp.

“Hey,” Any comfort he felt seemed misguided by Rex’s tone, “Have you taken this route before?”

“I told you, I’ve never been to Hogsmeade.” Anakin said, but when he tried to continue walking, Rex grabbed him by the sleeve of his robe to force him in front of him. Concern filled the wide brown eyes of his friend, who was only illuminated by the soft glow at the tip of his wand. “What?”

“If you’ve never taken this way before, then how does snowdrift get dragged in here?” He nodded towards the small little dustings of snowy residue that peppered inconsistently across the surface leading forward. 

Anakin frowned and held the map down to his side, giving Rex his full thought and attention for that moment, which was all the more chilling. As much as the tunnels had become a safe haven and escape for Anakin, they were also the primary mode of transportation for his alleged attacker. 

“It’s cold down here.” He added, trying to remain optimistic.

“Not cold enough to freeze.” Rex said.

No, that was also true. While muggle school had bored him, he did understand the basic concepts of temperature control and how water would only freeze when reaching zero degrees celsius. And there were puddles of murky water lingering throughout the tunnels. If it were truly that cold, they would have froze over as well.

He sighed, “Okay, so should we turn back or go-”

Anakin didn’t have the time to finish that thought, because any suggestion he was about to make died on his tongue at the sound of shoes hitting stone flooring at a rapidly approaching speed.

He didn’t have to encourage Rex to follow him as he turned on his heels and began sprinting in the opposite direction. While he nearly dropped his wand in the process, Rex staggered next to him, trying his best to keep up. Somehow, he managed to keep his wand aglow, which did help a little in terms of allowing them to make out what was directly in front of them. However, the speed at which Rex flung his arms made the light seem like it was flashing. 

The way back towards Hogwarts was dark and the brandish motion of Rex’s wand gave off the heightened sensation of a strobe- slowing time impossibly. Anakin balled his hands into fists as he ran, crinkling the revered parchment tightly through his sweaty fingers.

In those seconds, his mind raced to many things.

Windu.

Phantom.

Vader.

The footsteps grew louder and more frantic, even over the sound of his brain pounding in his skull. Whoever chased them was quick and determined, but not heavy on their feet. Anakin veered his head to the side, trying to catch Rex’s eyes in the flickering light of his wobbling wand, but only saw a blur of his friend beside him and tried to focus more on getting out of here. 

It occurred to Anakin, suddenly, what it would take to discover the identity of this masked evil and he squeezed his fist so unbearably tight that it hurt. He wouldn’t tell Rex, so his friend would go on, but he had to know. He could only run for so long.

So, he stopped to a complete halt, trying to hastily unwrinkle the parchment he’d previously crushed in his knee jerk reaction. The tension that was caught in his digits made this exceptionally hard as well as the way his heart threatened to burst through his chest in anticipation. 

The map would reveal the truth. He would have his proof. He would have his name. There would be no more doubt that the person who has repeatedly made Anakin’s first year at Hogwarts so uncharacteristically strange was-

-BAM!

The breath was stolen from Anakin as he bore the full weight of a shrouded body that had been hurtling towards him. For a moment, he was floating and the only thought that drifted across his mind’s eye was that he was no longer holding the map or his wand. He wanted to curse, but the words were also no longer a luxury he could afford.

He skidded to the cold and damp floor, splashing into a puddle with a grunt and a gasp. It felt as though he’d gone into shock as he briefly wrestled in the dark with his witless attacker, who also seemed to have their senses knocked out of them by the impact. 

Blood pumped into Anakin’s ears and pain finally caught up with him after a moment and he looked up into bleak darkness, but had the presence of mind to shove this surprise guest off of him. It was surprisingly an easy feat, not nearly as dense as the menace on Halloween had been when he’d snuck up on him.

Even in his haze, it was clear to him that this wasn’t the same person. This person was small and desperate, scared even. As they rustled a bit in an unsure scuffle, he could feel what seemed to be an emblem on the front of the robe. 

There was no answer of course.

As if also just coming to, the mystery person scrambled to their feet in equal terror as Anakin had initially felt, and stumbled into what would become a running position, the sound of distant footsteps hitting puddles as well as strangely, an irregular fluttering. In what small lighting Rex’s wand allowed for him, he could see that this person was a young boy.

“Anakin, Anakin!” Rex’s arms were underneath Anakin’s armpits as he hoisted him to a standing position. His worried voice indicated that this had not been the first time he’d said his name. “Was that-”

“-That was a student!” Anakin gasped as he dusted himself off, no matter how little good that was going to do when he now had ice and dirty water on his robe. 

“We ought to go after him then!” Rex urged.

“The map!” Anakin panicked, “I was trying to get a look at the map and I dropped it!” 

Rex waved his wand across the floor and both boys exchanged shocked glances when they noticed not only Anakin’s map and wand in a particularly jagged shaped puddle beneath them, but several different slices of parchment all around. Anakin wasted no time looking at them yet as he plucked the map from the water.

“What’s it say?” Rex asked.

“Bollocks.” Anakin cursed, “It doesn’t work when it’s wet, apparently.”

“Well, what kind of spell is that?” He complained. 

“I’m sure Palpatine never thought I’d be dragging it through mud.” Anakin defended slightly and winced, “I hope I didn’t break it.”

Rex bent down to pick up another piece of parchment and frowned, “Well, I think this answers any question of what he was doing down here.”

Anakin looked over his friend’s shoulder and wrinkled his brow, “Homework?”

“This isn’t homework,” Rex rolled his eyes and brought the papers closer to the light, “These are answer keys to the OWLS tests for the fifth years.”

***

Obi-Wan and Satine had searched what seemed like the entire school with growing trepidation. Obi-Wan, in particular, was trying his best not to seem shaken by his mentee’s absence while Satine wondered when and how she was going to suggest adult intervention.

She didn’t have to, luckily, because right as that moment felt inevitable, they stumbled across Anakin and Rex as the boys stood with hands on their knees, huffing and puffing outside of the Gryffindor common room. From her peripherals, she could see Obi-Wan relax substantially and she was also glad for their safety. However, such relief did not prevent varying questions from flooding her mind.

Obi-Wan beat her to the first one, “Where have you two been hiding?”

Anakin straightened with the alarm of someone that was trying to disguise having been caught. Doing what, Satine supposed they didn’t have definitive proof of. At the very least, they’d obviously been running.

“Um, cardio.” He so obviously lied, “For Quidditch.”

“In your full uniforms.” Satine said plainly and then looked to Rex, “Rex isn’t even on the team.”

The youngest Fett’s frown deepened, but after exchanging a quick glance with his best friend and co-conspirator, eased into what Satine could only assume was purposeful ignorance. “I’d like to be someday.”

That much, while true, was irrelevant. She wasn’t buying it and clearly, Obi-Wan wasn’t either. 

“You skipped class- Herbology, mind you, which is far from your strongest subject in order to run around like hooligans?”

“We didn’t mean to miss class.” Anakin justified, “We completely lost track of time!”

Satine rolled her eyes, “You’re really going to have to do better than that. For skipping class no other purpose besides playing hooky, I’ll have no choice but to assign detention for the both of you this evening.”

“Wait, okay!” Rex broke a bit, clearly not keen on spending his time with the likes of Krell and truthfully, Satine didn’t want him to either, “We were… Investigating.”

“Rex!” Anakin glared at his friend.

“No, do share, please.” Obi-Wan said, holding out a hand to cue Anakin to silence.

“We were trying to figure out who was behind this cheating scandal that’s going around.” Rex said and Satine furrowed her brow at the way Anakin slackened ever so slightly at this “admission” of truth.

“That’s the job of prefects and professors.” Obi-Wan reminded them, “Not first years.”

“Yeah, well, did either of you find this?” Anakin boasted as he held a surprisingly wet piece of parchment out in front of him, “Because a couple of dumb first years did.”

“I never said you were dumb.” Obi-Wan returned as he took the dripping paper away to take a better look at it. Over his shoulder, Satine caught a glance too and couldn’t help the small gasp that she took in.

“Where did you find this?” Satine asked in a treacherously concerned voice. 

“And why is it wet?” Obi-Wan winced and wiped his hand on the side of his robe. 

“Outside.” Anakin said, “Right near the entrance.”

“We were running, because we thought we saw the kid.” Rex added and for this bit, Satine could see that Rex was relaying what he believed to be the truth.

The heaps of snow that covered the rolling terrain did explain quite obviously why the parchment was soaked in some parts, but not why it existed at all. The OWLS weren’t for another couple of months and yet, the answers (albeit, smudged) were right in Obi-Wan’s hands. Neither prefect took to looking at them too closely in fear of glimpsing any of the answers in-context, but enough to know this was certainly the key for a Transfiguration exam.

“Thank you for bringing this to our attention.” Obi-Wan nodded at the two of them. He was very practiced at maintaining a cool composition, even if Satine could see the cracks in his display from a kilometer away. It seemed to placate Anakin and Rex, who were also trying not to seem jostled.

“Does this mean we don’t have detention?”

If Satine had it her way, she’d want to add further questions before making such a promise, but Obi-Wan seemed to have other ideas.

“For now.” He said sternly, “But see to it that your spree of vigilantism stops right here. The main priority for you two is to go to school and learn, not engage in criminal investigations.”

“Leave that to us.” Satine added with hands on her hips, “And remember that we might not be as kind next time you choose to skip class.” 

Both first years nodded their heads hastily and at Obi-Wan’s firm dismissal, jogged off to dinner, trying to beat the other through the doors. Instead of following them inside, Obi-Wan shared a concerned look with Satine.

“What do you make of this?”

“It was one thing when it was regular exams and essays,” Satine admitted, “But this is supposed to be a standardized examination. Whoever is doing this has contacts that run deep.”

“I know.” He said, “It’s good that you have seen reason.”

Feeling as though something halted and reverberated within her, Satine stepped back, completely incredulous. “Pardon?”

He frowned in confusion, “You see that this cannot be Anakin now.”

“I see no such thing!” She offset, “We’ve drawn no absolute conclusions yet!”

“He literally handed us the test paper, Satine.” He said. 

“Need I remind you that he clearly did not want to?” She argued, “Rex was the one to goad him into it.”

“He doesn’t have the sort of contacts to get access to this level of cheating!” He said, “And I’ve been with him almost constantly.”

“Almost constantly except today.” She reminded him.

“And you believe Rex complicit.” 

“I didn’t say that!” She said, “I don’t know what I believe and neither do you.”

“I believe Anakin wasn’t being wholly honest with us, but he’s not a cheater. If anything, he was likely trying to seek out more information on who freed the Zillo Beast.” Obi-Wan stood up straight, as if his more impressive height would give him an advantage in this spinning wheel of an argument. 

“And I hope that’s the case!” She insisted, “But even still, that is something he should most certainly not handle alone.”

“Anakin doesn’t trust the manner of investigation here,” He said firmly, “And frankly, I can see why.”

“That sounds a bit fishy to me, actually.” She said, “You and I have given him no reason for mistrust.”

“Well, I haven’t.” He said bitterly.

“Don’t you dare try to lump me in with Windu’s oversight regarding Krell.” She poked him hard in the chest, “I don’t believe with certainty that it’s Anakin, I admit, and I do have many more questions in relation to this whole mystery now, but I will not rule any potential suspects out.”

“God forbid we rule anyone out in an investigation!” He said, waving around the parchment, “Good thing you’re not an Auror, because everyone would constantly be a possible suspect of crime.”

“Yeah, well good thing you aren’t one either!” She snapped and it felt cold as it came out, but her mouth seemed to move before her brain could think, “Because not only does it require the courage to pursue Defense Against the Dark Arts, but critical thinking!”

His eyes widened a tad and his mouth fell open a tad, “I- Well, then. Why are you even investigating alongside me in the first place?”

“Ben...” She tried, regretting what she said if only a little bit.

“I’ll see you later.” He said shortly, “We’ve got a counter-charm to develop, no? I am smart enough to help with that, right?”

“I never said-”

“-No, but you did.” He laughed a little, even if it wasn’t funny to him, “And it’s okay. Really, it’s inconsequential since we both know that’s not where my path is going anyway.”

She opened her mouth as if to speak, but couldn’t figure out what to say. She didn’t believe Anakin was entirely innocent in all of this, but she wasn’t hellbent on his guilt as Obi-Wan seemed to believe she was. And regardless of how it came out, the most infuriating part of Obi-Wan not actively pursuing what he dreamed to do, was that he was perfect for the job.

***

Hondo Ohnaka specialized in many things. 

Bribery, scheming, smuggling. All things pirating, really, but most of all, he prided himself on his charms- both in the magical and personal sense. He’d never have such an aptitude to sell his scams if he wasn’t so damn convincing. Plus, there was his fearlessness. He did not fear trouble and almost welcomed it… To an extent. 

He took a very large hit when exempting himself from the cheating scandal. It was a shame, really, because it was just the kind of sleaziness that Hondo could have made a killing off of! It was not as though he hadn’t thought of it in the past, of course, but he didn’t have the means that this mystery cheater had. 

Even though he had been insulted that Kryze and Kenobi initially suspected him, he became truly offended when they believed he wouldn’t have been able to pull it off. Naturally, he could. He totally could. And yes, he had inadvertently promised to keep an eye on things for Kenobi, because even though Hondo was a pirate at heart, he did have a soft spot for the prefect. It was dangerous, he knew, but Kenobi was one of the few people to be nice to Hondo in those early days.

It counted for a little bit, that was all. Should this cheater offer Hondo a great sum of the profit, that would be a different story and he’d hope Kenobi would understand.

In a way, his promise to play lookout benefited him in the long run, making it possible for him to sell his Valentine’s Day gags more in the open. He could keep watch for anyone exiting from any secret corridors or at the late night, seeming like his typical troublemaking self, while getting a first glance at the person AND making a profit or alliance.

He knew with Kryze involved that he would be on a short leash, but he would make do.

He was just in the middle of making a decent sell- heart shaped chocolates that were supposed to make you look like your crush’s exact type- when Anakin Skywalker seemed to appear from nowhere, running right into him.

“Hey, kiddo, watch where you’re going!” He scolded, only irritated because the chocolates hit the floor. His buyer, a sad sack named Max Rebo, raised and lowered his large blue ears in exasperation, before scurrying away.

“Sorry, Hondo.” The boy dusted himself off and bent over to help him pick up the candies. “What are these?”

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” Hondo warned him when the boy raised the chocolate to his lips, “It could give you horrible diarrhea.”

Skywalker would surely tell his mentor what happened if Hondo got the kid sick and the last thing he needed was to miss out on the Valentine’s day sales. 

Skywalker winced and tossed it back into the heart shape box, “Can’t risk that twice this term.”

Hondo didn’t really want to know the bowel habits of the first year, but was curious what he was doing wandering the halls so close to curfew. He narrowed his eyes at him.

“You’re not trying to move in on my turf are you?” He asked.

“What? No!” Anakin insisted, “I’m just running late is all.”

As an experienced liar, Hondo knew that while that was true, it didn’t answer his question in full. Besides, the boy looked a bit too nervous for someone that was being questioned by one of the least authoritative figures in school. It was mighty suspicious.

“You better not be!” Hondo assured, “Because I don’t take well to splitting profits evenly… Well, unless I’m mooching off someone else.”

“Are people really buying this stuff?” He asked.

“What? You don’t like?” Hondo asked, distracted from his suspicions to be annoyed at the implications from the kid. “You’d be surprised what people do for love.”

Skywalker shifted in his stance, “I don’t know if love is worth the stomachache.” 

Hondo placed a hand on his shoulder and tried to look wise, “Love is a stomachache, Skywalker.”

***

Despite how frazzled he still was from their encounter with the mysterious cheater in the tunnels (as well as with Hondo), Anakin was never too nervous not to be swept in the calming yet alluring aura that was Padmé Amidala. It was hard not to, when it seemed even without the aid of the map, that destiny tended to cross their paths in the halls.

As per usual, she was trailed by some other Gryffindor girls whom she was quite close with- this time, Saché and Rabé. However, Anakin could hardly notice them when her laugh seemed to fill the whole hallway… Until Rabé (he thinks- her friends all looked very similar to him) said something of interest.

“I take it you won’t be receiving any valentines this year from Sebulba.” She said.

“No, I don’t think so.” Padmé chuckled, “And I think he’s afraid I’ll send him one carved of toenails and earwax or something dreadful.”

“I’d say it’s a shame he finally went “fully mad”, but I can’t say I find it in me to feel bad for the bloke.” Saché added.

“I still do.” Padmé offered with a shrug, “Not enough to do anything crazy like date him, but people don’t just become like that, you know?”

“Still,” Rabé sighed wistfully, “It’d be nice if some of the boys around here had a proper romantic bone in their body.”

Padmé smiled knowingly and nudged Saché, whose cheeks matched her tie, “Not just boys. Have you thought about making something for Yané?”

“Oh bugger off,” She scowled, “I’ve got no time for romance as of late, thank you very much.”

“That’s a no.” Rabé teased, “You know she’s going to knit you something beautiful.”

“She’s going to make something beautiful for all of us, thank you.” Saché said, “Because she’s talented like that.”

“So are you, in your own ways.” Padmé said encouragingly. “You’ve just gotta put yourself out there. Who cares if you’re a year younger?”

Anakin swore his heart was floating somewhere midair- as if a passerby cast a Wingardium Leviosa spell on it without warning. How was someone so unassumingly beautiful? It felt somehow, like he was meant to overhear the advice, but knew if he lingered much longer he’d be noticed from his position around the corridor. Instead, he walked with haste to the library. 

What was he going to do?

***

“Okay, mentor, I’ve got a problem and you need to help me fix it. ASAP.” Anakin burst into the library and dropped his stack of books on the table in front of Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan cringed at the glares they received from surrounding tables and raised a finger to his lips.

“Have you no mind for those that use the library as more than a place to nap?” Satine hissed, acting much less subtle in her approach.

“Sorry.” Anakin said, but was too caught up in whatever was going on to be genuine in his apology. “I just have a major problem.”

‘Major problems’ could be anything on the scale of miniscule to horrific when it came to Anakin, so it was difficult to decipher which this would be. Regardless, Obi-Wan made his peace with the fact that whatever studying he’d been planning would have to wait until later. 

In truth, he’d already been derailed by the undercurrent of tension presently wrapped around him and Satine. She was still cross with him and he felt likewise, but they’d both been too stubborn to give up their usual seat at the library.  

“What’s going on?” Obi-Wan asked.

True to his dramatic entrance, he flopped backwards across a row of wooden chairs with a heavy sigh. “Valentine’s Day is coming up.”

It was obvious that Satine was doing everything in her power not to roll her eyes, which while Obi-Wan felt a similar sense of exasperation, did not want to give her the satisfaction of agreement.

“That’s all?” He asked, voice carefully neutral.

“That’s all?” Anakin shot up in horror. “It’s quite possibly the worst thing that could ever happen to me.”

“You are aware it happens every year, aren’t you?” Satine asked.

He shook his head adamantly, shaking his shaggy hair, “This year is different. This year, I’m in love. I’m in love with the prettiest girl in school and it’s completely awful.”

“You do remember Halloween, right?” Obi-Wan asked, “When you were almost killed by the rogue Zillo Beast? Or at the holiday party? That, to me, is much more qualified to be the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“Physical injuries have nothing on injuries of the heart.” He clutched his chest for emphasis and Satine couldn’t withhold the chuckle that seemed to bubble up inside her, though try as she might for Anakin’s sake.

“I’m sorry,” She smirked at his grimace. “I don’t know what’s funnier: the theatrics or the fact that of all the people in the world, you chose to come to him for romantic advice.”

Obi-Wan frowned, “And what’s wrong with asking me?”

“Yeah, what is wrong with asking him?” Anakin rounded on Satine, who remained cool under the pressure of both boys’ expectant stares.

“He knows positively zilch about love.” She said as if it were obvious, which prickled Obi-Wan in all the wrong ways.

“That’s not true!” He argued, even if someone else had asked him a mere ten minutes ago, he likely would have told them the truth. He just didn’t like Satine telling not only him, but his protégé what he did and didn’t know, particularly about this sensitive subject. “I know more than you do!”

Sometimes, he learned, it was best to call someone’s bluff. He just couldn’t tell if he was calling Satine’s or his own.

“Yeah, Obi-Wan’s the smartest guy I know!” Anakin slung an arm around him in support.

She crossed her arms, “Do share then, oh wise one.”

He opened his mouth and then closed it before opening it again. He racked his brain to say anything to wipe that smug look off Satine’s face. She seemed so certain that he was clueless and the fact that he was transparent in his lack of knowledge on the subject bristled him more.

The audacity of it all! Who was she to assume what he did and didn’t know? Then again, it shouldn’t surprise him, seeing as she refused to believe him of Anakin’s innocence in the cheat-sheet scandal. 

“I don’t need to prove myself to you.” He sniffed, “Anakin came to me, because he trusts and respects my opinion and believes I can fix this situation for him.”

“You can?” Anakin asked excitedly.

“He can’t.” Satine answered, “You don’t ‘fix’ a crush, particularly not someone else’s. If you knew anything about love, you’d have come to that conclusion on your own.”

“And what do you know about love? I don’t see you walking around with a boyfriend either.” He pointed out.

“By choice!” She snapped, finally, much to his satisfaction, seeming as heated as he was, “And anyway, at least I’ve been kissed before.”

Obi-Wan’s jaw dropped, despite how little he wanted to display his shock at this revelation. He wasn’t sure what he felt in response to that, but he didn’t like the sickly feeling that crawled around his stomach. He mentally shoved it away as far as it could go so as not to further influence this argument.

“When?” He asked, voice cracking only a little, “Who?”

“Bryce Saxon when I was 10.” She said.

“Nice!” Anakin said at the same time Obi-Wan said, “That doesn’t count! We didn’t even know each other.”

“Why does that matter?” She asked, “Did my life not truly begin until I met you?”

“I-I” He stammered, “I just meant it’s circumstantial proof if we don’t know the person.”

“You don’t have to. Why would I lie?”

“To make me jealous?” He spat and when her eyes widened at that, he quickly added, “-That you have kissed someone while I haven’t.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’ve got better things to do than lie about my accomplishments.” She said. “And you should know all about circumstantial evidence.”

Ah, so there it was. She was still lashing out about his disbelief in her claim. That only enraged him more. 

“As if kissing some twerpy bloke is an accomplishment.” He sneered, hating every bit of himself that was getting so riled up by this hushed debate. He and Satine argued all of the time, but never like this. The subject matter was sensitive and typically something they stayed away from. Or at least, he thought they did.

“Why do you naturally assume he’s twerpy?” She asked. “It’s not like you’ve got much room to judge.”

Was she calling him twerpy? Did that bother him?

“Regardless of what he was like, his existence is irrelevant, because an elementary-aged kiss is hardly the muse of romantics, which means it’s useless to Anakin.”

“That’s a good point.” Anakin said.

“Yes, well, Anakin is 11. I was 10. If anything, I’m more advanced than Anakin and would better assimilate my experiences to his.” She countered. 

“Also a good point.” He said thoughtfully.

Obi-Wan clenched his jaw. Would she stop bringing up that stupid kiss? “It’s best for advice to come from a mature and collected perspective. Sometimes, being caught in the hysterics of the situation is not the best position to be giving out any information.”

“That’s-” Anakin began.

“-I thought it was just a twerpy kiss?” She rose to her feet with her hands planted firm on the table.

“I’m not the one citing a peck on the lips as gospel reasoning to be fully informed on the throes of romance.” He met her with equal passion, their faces only centimeters apart. “I would also like to point out that I know much better what my protégé is capable of.”

“Do you?” She retorted.  

“Is this a bad time?” Anakin asked awkwardly, “Because I’m starting to feel like this isn’t really about me anymore?”

It was totally about Anakin, while simultaneously not. Obi-Wan certainly didn’t have it in him to explain.

“No, it’s a perfectly good time. Come along, Anakin. Let’s get you a Valentine.”

Obi-Wan stood up straight, keeping his glare fixed on Satine, who was just as formidable in holding a staring contest as he was. Oh, he’d show her. He’d ensure that this issue was resolved so that they could resume their normal studies. Then, she wouldn’t assume he was some… Love-less dolt ever again. And he wouldn’t have to hear about her stupid kiss with Bryce Saxon.

“Come to me if you’d like actual help, Anakin.” She called after them.

“He won’t need it.” Obi-Wan returned hotly. “He’s in the best hands.”

“So, what do I do?” Anakin asked after they were far out of ear shot and walking through the halls.

“I don’t know.” Obi-Wan sighed with dropped shoulders.

***

The two of them eventually returned to the library that evening, opting to skip dinner in favor of getting some research time while Satine wouldn’t be expected there. Anakin had really hoped to have a break from reading. His homework load was getting marginally larger as was, particularly in Charms, which while his favorite subject, had his least favorite professor.

“I can’t believe you willingly come here for all your answers. How do you find the patience?” Anakin asked.

“I’ve always liked to read.” Obi-Wan said, “It’s an escape.”

Not quite understanding what the handsome, perfect, rich student would want to escape from, Anakin continued his pacing.

“Maybe if you spent less time escaping, we’d have the answer to my Valentine’s Day dilemma.”

“I don’t spend all my time reading.” He said, “Some of us have responsibilities.”

“Yeah, you’re too busy busting the couples that are snogging when you could probably use a little of that yourself.” He said.

“I’m not a complete drag.” Obi-Wan said, “I’m trying to help you, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, to prove a point to Satine. Which, by the way, you’re not doing so hot.” He said.

“Who does she think she is? Going off about how I don’t know anything about love?” He scowled, which proved Anakin’s theory that his annoyance wasn’t with him in the slightest. He was distracted in a way Anakin had never seen him all year and it was over something so silly.

“Well, to be fair… You don’t.” He said, “Or else I doubt we’d be literally looking it up in the encyclopedia.”

“Have you got any better ideas?” He quirked a brow.

“Of course not!” Anakin said. “I’m 11! You’re the prefect and my mentor! You’re supposed to know everything.”

“Where is that written?” Obi-Wan asked as he marked a page in the book he was skimming. Anakin always wondered how he read so fast. It was like he could just glance at a page and understand its contents.

“I don’t know,” He said, “But you are older and older people are definitely supposed to know more about this kind of stuff, especially teenagers.”

“It seems I missed that lesson, then.” He answered just as stiffly. “Just sit still and feel free to study for your Charms exam if you so wish.”

“How can I study when I feel like my heart is going to burst out of my chest every time I think about this girl? You have no idea what it’s like to see her and not tell her she looks beautiful, but also those words never come, because you don’t want to sound like a freak. And then when she is anywhere within the vicinity it’s like a slow but pleasant torture, because seeing her just makes things… Better, I don’t know.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way.” He said carefully. “Just like the rest of us.”

Anakin frowned, “What do you mean?”

Obi-Wan peered at him from over his book, “I’m not an alien. I have feelings! Everyone does. They’re completely natural, but you cannot allow them to dictate your every action.”

“So, what you’re saying is…” Anakin said slowly. “You like-like someone.”

He fiddled with his watch, which must have become a new nervous tick of his when under pressure. “I didn’t say that.”

“Yeah, but Qui-Gon says sometimes, it’s about what we don’t say that’s more telling about what we mean.” He pointed out, hoping he was using that phrase correctly. 

Obi-Wan pinched his brow and then slowly massaged his temples. “Okay, if it helps you, let’s just say I have had… Instances where I’ve occasionally felt… Emotionally conflicted... About someone.”

“Who?” Anakin asked.

“That’s hardly relevant to your dilemma!” He returned.

“So, what do you do?” Anakin asked.

Anakin noticed that Obi-Wan seemed strained, like he was trying to figure out the answer to that question and was coming up short every time a new thought seemed to cross his mind.

“Are you friends with this girl?” Obi-Wan finally asked, leaning on his forearms.

“She barely knows I exist.” He puffed at that.

“Then, I suggest you befriend her first.”

Anakin’s eyes bulged out, “Oh great! Never thought of that idea! Thank you so much, love guru.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “Find common ground and remember that she is also a person with feelings. In the trials of any relationship- whether it be platonic or romantic, you must always consider the other person’s position and feelings.”

“So, when do I get to kiss her?”

“Maybe never.” Obi-Wan said.

“What? I can’t believe I came to you at all! What kind of advice is that?”

“You can’t force something, Anakin.” He said. “And your intentions must be pure. Wouldn’t you rather have her in your life to some capacity than none at all?”

Though the prospect of just being friends didn’t have nearly the same amount of appeal as bestowing Padmé with the most glamorous Valentine’s Day gift of all time, it did feel a little more his current speed.

“Thanks, Obi-Wan.” He smiled.

***

“Satine, I’ve come to use your services.” Anakin said as he seemed to pop out of nowhere.

“How did you- Where did you-?” She stammered, looking around her, but then back at the expectant boy. “What are you talking about?”

“Love advice, of course.” He said, “But you can’t tell Obi-Wan I came to you. I think it’ll hurt his feelings.”

Satine couldn’t help but feel smug as she led them into an empty classroom, careful to shut the door behind her. Sure, she wouldn’t tell Obi-Wan that his advice had clearly not measured up as he’d been so positive it would. It wasn’t about being right, it was about how bemusing it was for either him or Anakin to assume he knew anything about romance. While she was certainly not trying to give off the impression that she knew everything, she was at least more aware of her own personal feelings.

Other people’s, of course, were questionable.

Sitting behind what would be the professor’s desk, she folded her hands. “How may I be of assistance?”

“Just to let you know, I’m not coming to you because I’m totally convinced that you’ll be able to help me either.” He said, “But… You are a girl and so is Padmé so, why not?”

She frowned. Who taught this boy how to ask for help before? He was nothing like Viz, who was polite and quiet, but also incredibly studious and perceptive. She was impressed at his quiet wit for such a young boy, but never had to worry he would say something to make someone else cross.

Anakin, on the other hand, was a troublemaker, and was insistent on making the entire school, but apparently Obi-Wan, know it. 

“And you are making me want to help you less and less.” She scowled.

“Not if you want to best Obi-Wan.” He wagged his finger, “Which judging by that heated argument yesterday, I’d say you do.”

She didn’t appreciate the word ‘heated’ being tossed here and there as though this were some passionate feud that was controlling every facet of their very being. Regardless of their present disagreement, which still boiled her blood when she thought about it, they were perfectly capable of continuing about their daily business. Their prefect duties never suffered, they still worked well together in class, and even studied together. Admittedly, the ladder was much more indicative of neither willing to give up their spot. 

However, she’d be lying to say that she wouldn’t benefit from proving a point, even if just to herself.

“Start by telling me what you like about Padmé.”

“She’s got this beautiful way about her.” He said, “Like she radiates sunshine. It’s almost like she’s an angel.”

She smiled encouragingly, “Yes, and?”

“She runs her fingers through her hair a lot, but it never messes it up. It’s like she doesn’t even try to be perfect, but she is.”

“Okay, what else?” She asked.

“Her smile just lights up the whole room. Of course, I usually only see it from afar.”

She narrowed her eyes, “Anything that isn’t based solely on her appearance?”

“Please don’t make this one of those rants.” He said, “Friendly reminder that Viz is your mentee, not me.”

“Sure, but Viz doesn’t corner me in the hallway looking for advice on how to talk to a girl.”

“I can talk to girls!” He said defensively. “Just not the love of my life.”

She wanted to admonish him for being dramatic, but Anakin had this insistently hopeful demeanor that she just couldn’t bring herself to break. Many young kids believe their first crush is to be their first love and later their only love. She couldn’t begrudge them for holding onto that hope. Her parents always said that the Kryze’s mate for life- referencing that they were each other’s first and only loves. That being said, she would never wish for her dear mother to remain alone simply because of those values. Sometimes, happiness meant getting beyond your first.

“It just seems to me, Anakin, that you’re less in love and more infatuated.”

“Huh?” He asked.

“It means you are more invested in the idea of Padmé than who she really is, because you haven’t actually gotten to know her yet.”

“Funny, none of these books that Obi-Wan and I found said anything about that.” He said as he placed them down in front of her.

She picked one of them up. “Enchanting Maneuvers for the Romantically Troubled”  

“Seriously?” She chuckled, “This was his big reference guide?”

“But he also told me to be friends with her.” He sighed, “Sounds like I’m going to be feeling this sharp pain for a while.”

Satine touched his hand. “This is just a part of growing up.”

“Is this how you felt with Bruce Sexpot?”

“Bryce Saxon.” She snorted, “At the time, a bit. He was my first kiss, but nothing more than that. If I’m honest with you, it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be on the playground.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he had potato salad on his face.” She cringed.

“I don’t think that’ll be the case for Padmé.” He said, “She’s always pretty.”

“It’s not just about being pretty.” She said, “It’s about learning the things about her that aren’t so pretty and still accepting and appreciating them about her. It’s about getting to know her and finding out your commonalities and your differences and striking a balance. It’s about being a true friend to her, even without the promise of romantic entanglements.”

“Obi-Wan kinda said that too.” He groaned. “And you’re sure I’ll be okay?”

“Yes, Anakin.” She smiled, “I guess I can’t begrudge Ben too much. Though, did he tell you how to make proper valentines for someone?”

“No!” He brightened. “I can still do that?”

“Of course, you can.” She scoffed, “Valentines don’t have to be romantic, especially at your age. It’s all in the presentation.”

“Will you help me?” He asked shyly.

“Of course.” She smiled warmly, understanding a bit what Obi-Wan saw in the boy sometimes. His boyishness could be rather sweet. It didn’t change how rambunctious he was nor that he suspected he’s been up to something lately, but he wasn’t entirely just trouble. “And I must say, Padmé is a very lucky girl to be receiving all this fuss.”

“I should probably add that she’s a whole year older.” He said, “Making her unattainable, which Obi-Wan pointed out likely has its level of appeal for someone like me.”

“Someone like you?” She questioned.

“He used the word ‘brash’, but I don’t know.” He shrugged, “I just want this feeling to either go away completely right now or to do something about it. I can’t just sit on this like Obi-Wan does.”

Satine’s eyes flew from the covers of the ridiculous books to Anakin, heart skittering in her chest.

“Ben likes someone?” She blurted.

“Yeah, it shocked me too.” He said.

To say she was conflicted was a massive understatement. On one hand, the possibility of Obi-Wan having a crush was… Intriguing from the perspective of his friend, who wanted nothing but the best for him (even when he pissed her off). However, speaking as someone who sometimes found herself stealing a peek at him over her library book just to admire the way the light caught his hair, it was reasonably quite disarming.

Then, of course, there was the part of her that was furious he never gave any indication of showing interest in another girl.

“If it even is another-”

“-Oh shut it.” She mentally battled. She needed to remind herself that she was still annoyed with the person in question. 

“Did…” She kneaded her hands, trying desperately hard to keep her voice level and of casual curiosity. “Did he happen to say who?”

“Of course not.” He rolled his eyes. “You know him. It’s huge that he just revealed he has feelings at all. That’s about as far as he’ll go for a while.”

“Right.” She tightened her jaw.

If Anakin noticed any piqued interest, he didn’t say anything, and she believed she knew enough about Anakin to determine that he pretty much said everything he could think of. Case and point: the fact that Obi-Wan likely did not want this information to get to anyone.

“Anyway,” He continued, “What am I doing for Padmé?”

She’d been lost in thought for a moment, analyzing every detail of their argument from the previous day. It wasn’t completely out of the ordinary for her to be contemplating her interactions with Obi-Wan from all possible sides. It’s what she’d been reduced to since the end of their fourth year when she’d had the horrifying realization that she may think of him as more than just a friend. But Anakin shook a hand in front of her face to get her attention. “Satine?”

“Oh!” She flushed, “Sorry, I got a bit distracted about… Charms homework. We’re going to do roses, Anakin.”

***

Cody appreciated that when Satine and Kenobi got into it that they tried their best to leave him out of it. It didn’t usually work since both prefects were very snippy and snarky at all times, let alone when they were in a quarrel. It certainly kept things interesting, especially with how quick their topic of debate could change.

“Okay, remind me again what you’re huffy about today?” He asked Satine as they walked from her Defense Against the Dark Arts class together. 

“Ben is the most infuriating person on this forsaken earth.” She spat, gripping her textbook a little tighter to her chest.

“You realize that doesn’t narrow it down in the slightest, right?” He smirked, but Satine clearly didn’t find it funny, because she shot him a glare before yanking him by the arm to the side, secluding them from onlookers with a nearby coat of arms 

“You know he likes someone?” She hissed. 

He frowned, “He’s a kind lad, I assumed he liked a lot of people.”

“No,” She groaned, “Like-like’s. Anakin told me.”

Cody considered this, “Kenobi’s got a crush, huh?”

“Yes!” She waved her hands in exasperation, “One that he didn’t elect to mention to either of us, mind you.”

“Well-”

“-We’re supposed to be his best friends!” She argued, cheeks turning red, “And while I understand that he tends to lock up his feelings in a little box and store it somewhere hidden, crushes are the sorts of things you share with friends, right?”

“Sometimes-” He started again.

“-Unless it’s someone we would disapprove.” She said thoughtfully, but the anger thrumming through her veins didn’t seem to simmer, “Which is positively ridiculous, because we’d be supportive, right?”

“Of course-”

“-I mean, it’s not someone of the likes of Ventress or anything.” She said definitively and continued walking, to which Cody followed, “That would be the only scenario in which I could see truly being keen on hiding it.”

He gagged, “If Kenobi’s type is pure evil, sure, maybe… But maybe he hasn’t told us because-”

“-He doesn’t even spend any time with other girls.” She said defensively, “Or boys! I suppose I shouldn’t presume, but he’s never mentioned, looked at, or spent an ounce of time with anyone else! Just us, most of the time. It’s extremely misleading as to who he could possibly have romantic feelings for.”

Cody cleared his throat, “Er-”

Luckily, Satine seemed more motivated to have this conversation with herself rather than it be an open discussion, so he didn’t have to think his way out of that one.

“-And what does that say about us?” She stopped in her tracks, face scrunched in thought, “That we can’t notice that our friend has gone smitten over someone else? Like… That’s ridiculous. I- We surely would have seen some signs.”

Cody shrugged, “Should he fancy someone, that’s his business, right?”

“Right, sure, yeah, but who?” She clenched a fist, “And… Why?” There was an obvious vulnerability at the end of that statement.

“Are you sure this is what’s bothering you so much?” He finally asked as they approached their next classes. 

“Of course!” She turned on him, daring him with piercing eyes to insinuate otherwise, “What if they’re not good enough for him?”

“I’m sure she is.” Cody said carefully and patted her on the shoulder, “I know it’s in your natural coding to worry about him, but I’m sure it’s no big deal. Your source is Anakin after all, right?”

“That’s… Fair.” She paused, but still seemed unsure. She sighed, “This would be a whole lot easier if he didn’t communicate his feelings as well as a piece of toast.”

Cody chuckled. Yes, things might be very different if that were not the case.

***

Obi-Wan pushed in the door to Qui-Gon’s office. He was early and he knew Qui-Gon was still at dinner, so he didn’t bother knocking since he knew Qui-Gon wouldn’t mind. He settled himself in the large armchair by the fire and grabbed a book off the top of his previously abandoned stack. He didn’t open it yet, instead he stared up at the portraits haphazardly reaching towards the ceiling.

They were arguing about his and Qui-Gon’s investigation, which wasn’t unusual. Qui-Gon’s office wasn’t the most riveting place for a painting to hang in hogwarts, but considering the professor’s love of a good debate they were allowed to yell over one another and argue about the latest gossip, whether that be the latest scheme or the actual criminal investigation was always up in the air.

“I say, I say!” Yelled a portrait from across the room, “It couldn’t have been Windu, he hadn’t been near the table all night!”

“May I remind you we’re wizards?” Another called, “You wouldn’t have to be near something for anything to happen!”

“I bet Windu let out the beast too!” Another commented, “Halloween night. He was an Auror, he’d know a dark spell or two.”

“But I saw him on Halloween,” Obi-Wan thought out loud, “I was in his office,” The portraits quieted before another shouted.

“I saw Mace run out of his office during the attack! There’s no way he could have been all the way to the library and back without notice!” And the voices erupted all at once.

Obi-Wan tried to think around the noise, although it was true that the two different attacks didn’t lend themselves to having the same suspect, he hadn’t considered it a possibility that both could be related. In fact it was a rather curious possibility. Surely the mysterious figure described by Anakin would have been furious for the escape of such a beast. Would they have been mad enough to attempt to poison a student.

The door squeaked open and Obi-Wan practically jumped up, letting the book he’d forgotten he was holding roll off onto the floor.

“Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan greeted and the man looked surprised, but he wasted no time, “Do you think both attacks could share a suspect?” Qui-Gon’s brow quirked as he considered the statement.

“I suppose-“ Qui-Gon started.

“If you had been keeping a dangerous pet below the school and an eleven year old let it free, would you want revenge?” He pushed and Qui-Gon walked to his desk.

“Well I personally would not try and kill a child no,” He tried making light, but his face fell back into consideration, “I suppose it’s a possibility,” He decided.

“Professor Windu couldn’t have done it then,” Obi-Wan started to pace, steps sliding into familiar places on the stone floor.

“I’ve already determined that it wasn’t Mace,” Qui-Gon cut in and Obi-Wan screeched to a halt.

“What? When?” He pressed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He has several alibis and he even showcased to me the last 100 spells his wand had cast,” Qui-Gon explained, “It was good enough for me to believe his innocence and the book was only borrowed after we returned to school.”

“So who was absent on Halloween night, but at the party?” Obi-Wan asked, mostly to himself.

“That’s a good place to start, but don’t let such a narrow search cloud your mind.”

***

Cody was up before the rest of the guys in his year. Quidditch days always had that effect on him, it didn’t matter that this match was between Ravenclaw and Slytherin, it only mattered that he’d get a chance to watch his favorite game in the world be played. He wasted little time getting dressed. It was still cold outside with a little snow left on the ground, though he was sure it would soon fade away into spring. Professional Quidditch was usually played in the spring and summer months, but Cody always figured it was best that they got to learn to play in all sorts of conditions throughout the school year; that way he’d be ready for anything.

In the common room he found Anakin asleep on the couch, a transfiguration textbook on the floor just below a limp hand as it had clearly slipped when he’d fallen asleep. Cody debated with himself for a moment before reaching over and gently shaking the other boy awake. Anakin startled and looked around with wide eyes before they landed on Cody.

“What?” He mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and Cody grinned at him in response.

“You’d better clear up here before the prefects wake up. I doubt they’d be too happy to find a first year sleeping in the common room past curfew,” Anakin just blinked before moving his transfiguration book from the floor to the table.

“Yeah I guess you’re probably right,” Anakin yawned and Cody leaned on the back of the couch for a minute watching him shuffle parchment into a stack.

“Whatcha doing sleeping down here anyways? Is it Rex’s snoring?” Cody asked in jest and Anakin laughed, but shook his head.

“Rex doesn’t snore! He says you do though,” Anakin’s grin seemed to falter for a minute before he admitted, “I just haven’t been sleeping well lately,” Cody frowned, but tossed the expression from his face when Anakin turned to look at him.

“That’s alright,” Cody shrugged, “Things can get a little crazy at Hogwarts, but look on the brightside, it’s a Quidditch Saturday!” Anakin did perk up in interest at that.

“Obi-Wan’s playing right?” Anakin asked and Cody nodded.

“Ravenclaw vs Slytherin!” Cody announced enthusiastically, “It may not be as exciting as playing a match, but we’ll need to see who wins so we know where we stand,” He explained, Anakin looked a little more awake now at the prospect of getting to see another game.

He helped him shovel some parchment into his bag, “Why don’t you wake up sleeping beauty so you guys can go grab some breakfast before the game?” Anakin nodded and scampered up the steps towards the boys dormitories.

Cody smiled and shook his head before heading to the Great Hall to avoid Rex’s wrath, on the off chance that Anakin let slip whose idea it was. 

The halls were still relatively quiet- Ravenclaw house should be mostly awake by now, but they weren’t known for being as loud and rowdy on game day as Gryffindor. Slytherin would be up too, but it was even less likely to catch a Slytherin this high up in the castle on a weekend. The portraits were still just waking up. Some of the more energetic figures were chatting loud enough to annoy their neighbors. Cody wasn’t sure what the purpose in that was; if he was a portrait he wasn’t sure he’d want his neighbors to hate his guts. He must be missing something for he passed by a portrait of a princess glaring daggers at a knight who had taken to singing limericks.

The great hall was rather full and the Slytherin’s had taken to their assigned table, glaring at any who dared to sit with them as if that alone would expose their Quidditch secrets. Ravenclaw was a bit more spread out, sitting with their friends at the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables if they so desired. Obi-Wan and Satine were sitting at their usual spot at the very end of the Ravenclaw table and Cody didn’t bother considering anywhere else before sitting down across from them.

“Excited, Kenobi?” He asked as he started loading up his plate with pancakes. Obi-Wan, who had been staring off into space while sliding bacon around his plate, fixed him with his usual pre-Quidditch frown. Cody chuckled before pointing at him with a syrupy fork, “Come on, mate! It’s a great day for a game.”

“Yes quite. What I wouldn’t give to play in freezing temperatures year round,” He rolled his eyes, before cutting his bacon with a knife. Satine had been oddly quiet, not saying a word so far. She was facing as much away as she could from Obi-Wan without actually turning. It was surefire proof of them being in a fight. He supposed though they had been ready to pounce on one another for a few weeks now.

“Anakin slept in the common room last night,” It was the only non-Quidditch topic he could think up at the moment and it seemed to catch both his friends' attention.

“Is he ok?” Obi-Wan asked first, which was unsurprising. Concern was pinching his face and he turned towards the Gryffindor table to see if his mentee was around.

“He’s fine, I woke him up before he could get into any trouble,” Cody shrugged, “He said he’s been having trouble sleeping, did he tell you anything?” Obi-Wan shook his head with a frown.

“He mentioned having a bad dream once… But not that it was a consistent issue.” He said slowly, Satine’s eyes gleamed as she looked over to him.

“So you admit to not knowing everything about your little protégé?” She asked and he turned to glare at her in turn.

“I’d never said I knew everything,” He answered back with a heated glare.

“So you’re not all knowing then?” She dropped her fork and let it clatter onto her plate.

“Once again, I never said that,” He responded, stabbing a piece of bacon with his fork and shoving it in his mouth.

“I thought it was implied the way you’re desperate not to look at this from all sides,” She spat and he bristled.

“Did I miss something?” Cody asked, exasperated.

“It’s prefect business,” Satine answered with an apology in her eyes. He just shrugged and went back to eating his pancakes. He wasn’t sure he even needed to know with how often the topic changed. They went back and forth so much that it was like watching a Quidditch passing drill; his eyes flicking from one to the other waiting for someone to slip.

“Satine, I really don’t have time to go through all this right now,” Obi-Wan cut in eyeing the members of Ravenclaw’s Quidditch team gathering to leave.

“That’s fine,” She answered stiffly, “I’ll see you tonight so we can work on our Charms project,” Obi-Wan looked hurt, but he hid it well.

“I’ll be sure to let you know whether or not we win,” He stood from the table, tossing his napkin on his plate and was swept away by his teammates.

“You’re not going to the game?” Cody frowned. He hadn’t expected getting ditched, even though he supposed he could sit with his brothers. Satine deflated instantly, looking back towards where the Slytherin’s were heading out of the great hall.

“He’s absolutely infuriating sometimes, Cody,” She sighed, picking her fork back up

***

Obi-Wan pulled his broom out from the locker and although it was plenty shiny he grabbed his polishing cloth as well. Galen was going on about their strategy, but Obi-Wan’s mind was still back on Satine. He wished she’d see things from his perspective. Anakin had a notoriously bad habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but that didn’t automatically make him guilty as Satine had thus far been implying. He was 11, a bit of a troublemaker on occasion, but he didn’t have it in him to do something so scandalous as running a cheating ring. It wasn’t bias, he told himself as he worked to get a hardly noticeable smudge off the broom handle. He knew Anakin had a pension for trouble, but Obi-Wan hadn’t seen or heard of him doing anything insidious, besides occasionally popping up out of nowhere and startling people.

In fact he was quite proud of Anakin- he stood by Rex when he was struggling, and he was getting better and better in his classes through practice and dedication. Though he did tend to get a little moony-eyed near that girl he was fond of, Padmé, it wasn’t like he’d have it in him to play schoolboy tricks to get her attention. Anakin was simply an easy target. Frame the first year who had had some unfortunate happenstance befall him not once, but twice.

“Earth to Kenobi!” Aayla sat down heavily next to him, grabbing his broom out of his hands and inspecting the handle, “I can see my reflection in this,” Her nose wrinkled and she twirled it around nearly wapping him in the head with it, “You do know we’re playing Quidditch not entering a broom beauty pageant,” Obi-Wan just folded up his polishing cloth into a neat square.

“Not all of us like coming off the field as a pincushion full of splinters,” He offered, delicately reclaiming his broom and standing to put away the cloth. He realized then that they were alone and he looked around.

“I thought being in the running for Head Boy would have you better at listening,” Aayla laughed, “We’re heading to the field,” She stood, kicking her broom up into her hand.

He hurried to shove on his helmet and he made sure his wand was securely pocketed in his Quidditch robes before he followed Aayla out towards the field.

He wished not for the first time that he could see such a sight from Cody’s eyes. The large field, currently covered in a layer of snow, was surrounded by stands that were filled to the brim with students willing to risk the cold to watch a good game. Cody could go on and on about how giddy he was walking to his position, but Obi-Wan had always only felt a sense of dread. Even now that he was a more seasoned player, he still felt his stomach flip as he passed under the tall (very, very tall), golden hoops. He took his position and waited.

There was a hushed silence- the kind that really only came in moments before a match. Students were still chattering in their seats, but they seemed far away. Galen was making a few gestures towards his other chasers, but no one on the team dared to say a word as if it would give Slytherin the ability to one up them at every turn. And then there was the whistle, piercing through the air and both teams kicked off the ground, rocketing into the air.

Obi-Wan was happy with his position as keeper, but on cold days like this, waiting for the bloodbath in the middle of the field to head towards him was a little more excruciating. Still, as most times they played against Slytherin, eventually they made a run for the goal post. This was fairly easy to deal with. One chaser headed straight for him and he saw the chaser’s eyes dart towards the right a second before she did. Obi-Wan pushed the handle of the broom and by all accounts it should have worked. He would catch the Quaffle in his free hand and lob it back towards centerfield. Only it didn’t work as intended, his broom had jerked quite aggressively the wrong direction before stilling once more.

He was no Cody when it came to knowledge of brooms, but he’d had this broom since his first year and it had never behaved in such a way. Something was surely amiss and he just hoped it was a one time fluke.

***

“Something’s up,” It was Cody who said what they were both thinking. Satine had her binoculars pressed firmly to her face as if it would let her see Ben even clearer, “I could have seen that shot from a mile away! Even the chaser looks confused,” Satine grabbed the back of Cody’s robes blindly and pulled him back from leaning over the edge.

“Ben has that look,” Satine told him, “He’s concerned,” Cody tried to steal her binoculars, but she batted his hand away with a sudden gasp.

Ben’s broom had jerked again and he was reaching for his wand, which made Satine grip the rail tightly.

“That’s a foul!” Cody yelled a half second before Satine saw a bludger fly over and knock right into Ben’s chest, causing him to drift back a little at the impact. “Where’s the whistle? Come on ref!” 

She pulled Cody away from the edge again. Ben looked shaken, but unharmed, however Satine saw with horror something small and thin falling towards the snow below.

“His wand, Cody,” Satine tightened her grip on Cody’s robe.

“What?” Cody asked, momentarily pausing his shouting. Satine took her eyes off the field just long enough to give Cody a semi-horrified look.

“Ventress knocked his wand out of his hand,” Satine pointed to where Ben seemed to be hovering uncertainly. The audience was drawn to the referee, calling for a penalty throw to Ravenclaw, but neither Cody or Satine really cared about an extra few points.

“If he was going for his wand, something’s definitely wrong,” Cody ripped the binoculars from her hands suddenly, “He knows the rules, you can’t use magic on your opponents. Your wand is only there for extreme emergencies,” Cody was looking around the field for something.

“I’ve never seen a broom behave like that,” She was squinting at the field, without something to magnify the spec of blue and silver, it was impossible to make out his expression.

“They don’t,” Cody said gravely and Satine’s heart jumped to her throat, “It’s foul play.”

***

It was shaping up to be a boring match, Slytherin had already scored and Anakin was feeling a little secondhand embarrassment for his mentor. Obi-Wan wasn’t much for Quidditch and unlike most of the people Anakin knew, he didn’t really talk about it unprompted, and even then he’d usually just remind Anakin to be careful. He didn’t remember Obi-Wan being quite so terrible at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff match earlier in the year.

“He should have got that one,” Anakin complained to Rex as Slytherin managed to score again. The Ravenclaw captain seemed to be glaring back at the keeper, but Obi-Wan seemed not to notice.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Rex commented, “Cody always teases him, but really, Obi-Wan is a fairly decent Keeper,” Anakin shrugged, but watched as thankfully Ravenclaw finally managed to score something other than a penalty.

“He’s jerking around up there like his broom’s possessed or something,” Anakin considered as Obi-Wan seemed to struggle in the air again. Rex leaned forward, frowning rather intensely.

“It does look like that doesn’t it?” He asked, but didn’t seem to be wanting an answer, “It kind of reminds me of that jinx Echo put on Fives after he stole the last of the holiday candy,” Rex considered.

“Who would want to jinx Obi-Wan though? He’s a prefect!” Anakin watched as a Slytherin approached Obi-Wan again, only for Obi-Wan’s broom to drop about a foot with no prompting that Anakin could see.

Those rooting for Slytherin cheered, but Anakin felt that cold sensation of fear. Surely the mysterious cloaked figure wouldn’t be going through Obi-Wan to get to him, right? That did seem like a stretch even in Anakin’s mind. Rex sat up straight and he looked around a little frantically.

“Where’s Krell?” And Anakin was on his feet in an instant. They spotted him, sitting alone in the front row of the Gryffindor section. He’d been given a wide berth- no one knew the whole story which Rex was grateful for, but a prefect doesn’t lose his title for only a small infraction. They saw his hand twitch and Obi-Wan jerked to the right.

“Oi!” Rex shouted and Anakin looked over to him in surprise, he flinched a little when Krell looked over at him with a disgustingly smug smile on his face. Rex swallowed, but continued, “Jinxing other people’s brooms is against the rules,” Krell just rolled his eyes.

“Oh how brave,” Krell scoffed, “Kenobi’s acting like a fool and you’re coming after me? It’s not my fault he’s a lousy player.”

“You’ve got your wand out,” Anakin stepped in front of Rex, “Obi-Wan’s a better player than you ever were, you were just jealous.”

“It’s not a crime to have my wand out. I don’t see any muggles,” Krell twitched his hand sending Obi-Wan to the right so Slytherin could score again, “What are you going to do about it?” Anakin took another step forward reaching for his wand, but a furious voice cut in.

“You’re going to put your hands up right now!” Satine had her wand out, as did Cody standing to her right, the fury burning in their eyes was enough to make even Anakin take a step back. Krell, however, didn’t move, just looked over at them with a sneer.

“And why would I do that Kryze,” He said her name like it was mud on the bottom of his shoes, “I’m pretty sure you’re all about innocent until proven guilty, or does that just apply to bloodthirsty beasts and not your fellow wizards?”

“You’re going to do it or I’m thinking we have a rematch from the Halloween party,” Anakin had never heard Cody sound this angry. This was much past his frustration at a missed goal or Anakin accidentally beaming a teammate in the head during Quidditch practice. Here, he sounded downright murderous. Anakin hadn’t attended the Halloween party or witnessed the fight, but by Rex’s expression, it may have started similarly.

“How do you expect Gryffindor’s Quidditch team to manage without their fearsome captain,” He goaded and Cody took a step forward only stopped by a hand to the chest by Satine.

“There’s no need for unnecessary violence. Put your hands up,” She jabbed her wand forward in warning.

“You wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Krell crooned cruely, getting to his feet, “Not even if I did this?” He twitched his wand down and Obi-Wan dropped about a foot. It was clear by his snarling grin that it was only a warning. Satine took it as such and stepped forward pressing her wand to his chest.

“No, but I could trap one, if you were to find yourself in the position of turning into one.”

Anakin wasn’t that great with transfiguration, but if Satine was even half as good as Obi-Wan, it was a credible threat. Krell even seemed to realize that perhaps he was more at her mercy than he wanted to be so he sighed, a grumbling ugly sound.

“Fine, you win,” Krell narrowed his eyes at her. Satine took a step back, not lowering her wand.

“I’m glad you see it my way, now-” She started, but he cut her off with a knowing smile.

“I know, I know. Hands up!” And he threw his hands up, but there was the unfortunate consequence of him raising his wand in a swift, purposeful motion.

“Expelliarmus,” Cody yelled, but it was too late. Krell purposely dropped his wand off the edge of the stand and Obi-Wan had rocketed up and disappeared into the clouds.

***

Obi-Wan could see the sun, which on a normal day would be quite nice, but as it was he had just broken through the clouds and his broom was jerking and twitching like an angry hippogriff. He tried desperately to control it and then everything seemed to freeze as he was suspended in the air like any normal broom ride, save for the fact that Obi-Wan was clinging to the broom as tight as possible. For a moment he thought he was safe, but his broom seemed to sputter and he dropped a foot in the air. His broom was trying, practically wheezing to stay in the air, but whatever had been done to it must have inadvertently tampered with the magic.

Just as such a realization set in, he dropped like a rock. No amount of pulling on the handle was doing any such good except making them spin in the air enough to make him feel quite ill as the field came back into view. He stuck out a hand, trying to mimic how Qui-Gon did wandless magic.

“Aresto Memento,” He put as much passion as he could into the word, but nothing happened, not even a flicker. His vision was suddenly filled with gold as he smashed into a Quidditch hoop, there was a crunch and a sharp sensation that had him dropping hold of the broom, he made a mad grab for the polished wood in a desperate attempt, but his hand slid right off the polished surface and he plummeted to the ground.

***

Satine was frozen, wand still at the ready, but eyes glued on the unmoving navy blue smudge interrupting white snow. She wasn’t sure she even had a heart to beat anymore, or lungs to take on air.

“That had to be at least a 200 foot fall,” Cody didn’t sound like he was breathing much either despite his ability to talk, “Maybe farther, but the clouds are pretty low. It might be a record.”

“Cody please,” She choked out. He was in shock, but so was she and listening to the odds of their best friend’s survival was not going to sit well with her.

“Now that is a shame,” Krell’s voice brought her back to the task at hand. Ice filled her veins and she turned, looking him in the eye. He was leaning on the railing, chin resting on his hand and he looked far, far too pleased with himself, “But mistakes happen, don’t they Kryze? Fett?”

“The only mistake here,” Satine spit through gritted teeth, “Is that a prefect, a Quidditch captain, and half of Gryffindor are witness to your crime,” She steadied her wand at him, “You’ll be exceedingly lucky if you aren’t expelled for this,” He just waved her off with a lazy hand.

“You think I care about this shoddy excuse for a school? Everyone here is weak,” Krell turned and took a step towards her, “I have my sights set on somewhere better-” He took another step, but that was more than enough for Cody.

“Locomotor Wibbly!” Cody jabbed his wand towards Krell whose legs shook suddenly and he collapsed with a curse. Satine didn’t even bother reprimanding him for such a schoolyard jinx.

“Incarcerous,” She swished her wand and silvery ropes burst from it and wrapped themselves around Krell’s wrists. It was an extremely advanced skill, past even her year, but she couldn’t even find pride in such work. She turned wordlessly to the field where Ben was being loaded onto a stretcher by Madame Nema and Qui-Gon. His teammates were huddled together on the ground looking absolutely shocked and even the Slytherins were looking subdued. Satine raised her wand once more.

Golden sparks shot out of the tip dancing in the air until they formed a large glittering prefect’s badge, it would catch the attention of a professor, or with any luck, the headmaster himself.

***

“If you’re not careful you’re going to break something and end up with a bed of your own!”

Her voice was the first thing he remembered hearing and his eyes struggled to open. It was bright and he tried to bring his arms up to block the light, but one of them was holding something and the other felt heavy and it seemed to throb with every beat of his heart. He felt himself groan slightly as his eyes fluttered, trying to get used to the light. A hand met his shoulder immediately, but he still tried to push past it to sit up.

He was in the hospital wing, he realized. The tall arched windows and the room lined with cots really could not be a single other place at Hogwarts. He became aware of how much his body ached at the same time he was pushed back down onto the bed.

“Stay down,” Satine was leaning over him, her hair falling around her face as she looked down at him with a deep level of concern.

“Satine?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yes, Ben I’m right here, Cody’s gone to get Madame Nema,” She explained and he tried to look past her, but couldn’t see much of anything except for her blonde hair.

“You came?” He was trying to remember what events had led him here, but he did remember they were in a fight. He was surprised to see her at all.

“Cody and I saw your fall, of course we came! It looked rather dreadful,” He could tell she may be putting things a little lightly, but at least the pieces were starting to click into place.

“I thought you weren’t going to the match,” He sat up once again and this time ignored her gentle push to lie back down.

“I-” But she didn’t have time to finish because Cody was running over, expression brightening when he saw Ben awake and gazing at him, with Madame Nema right behind him.

“Glad to see you coming around, mate!” Cody ruffled his hair which he automatically tried to fix, but he instead looked, surprised, at the wrap fastened around his wrist.

“Mr. Fett, could you please not harass my patient?” Madame Nema was not one to waste time. Obi-Wan found himself poked, prodded, and questioned before even realizing what was happening.

“Well you had quite a fall there, Mr. Kenobi,” She explained, “You’ll be feeling it for a few days I’d imagine,” She handed him a potion which he didn’t bother asking about before downing it and wincing at the taste, “You’re lucky. Besides a nasty break in your wrist there, you’ve come out of this with only scrapes and bruises,” Obi-Wan frowned and looked at his hand.

“Can’t you mend bones?” He’d thought so at least.

“I did, dear,” Madame Nema tsked, “I can assure you it would hurt a lot more if I hadn’t. Just because bones can be mended, Mr. Kenobi, doesn’t mean we won’t be taking precautions,” He must have looked fairly sullen at the thought because Madame Nema chuckled, “It’s only for a few days and you’ll be right as rain. In fact you should be thankful, I dread to think of what would have become of you had you not managed to slow your fall,” He stared at the wrappings in curiosity. Surely she was talking about his unfortunate run in with the hoop. If Satine’s muggle science books were to be believed, something like that would take some of the momentum. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if the attempted spell had done him any good. A wizard stuck between a rock and a hard place may have the ability to do some amazing things.

“You did land like a champ,” Cody broke his thoughts, he was grinning, but Obi-Wan could easily see the worry hidden in his eyes, “A real Quidditch fall. Probably how you avoided getting any brain damage. In fact in the 22nd Quidditch World Cup-”

“Thank you, Cody,” He rested a hand on his friends shoulder, “As much as I’d love to hear about the greatest Quidditch injuries of all time, perhaps another time.”

“Your loss,” He shrugged.

“Madame Nema,” He caught her attention just as she’d made to leave, “Are we done here?” Satine looked like she wanted to interject, but Madame Nema beat her to it.

“Are you implying you’re well enough to leave?”

“You said it yourself, ma’am,” He shrugged, a small smile building on his face, “It’s mostly just scrapes and bruises,” They had a bit of a stare off.  Madame Nema was quite stubborn, but unfortunately nearly no one could hold a candle to his own stubbornness, except maybe his blonde haired best friend who was currently glaring a hole through him.

“I’ll allow you to go back to your dormitory, on the terms of you going right to bed,” Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief and nodded quickly in agreement, “And I’ll see you back here again tomorrow.”

“Yes ma’am,” He agreed and swung his legs over the side of his bed.

He made it out of the hospital wing before he stumbled and Cody was quick to catch him, swinging an arm around him like it was any other day. He tried not to use the extra support, but he found himself leaning into Cody as the ache in his limbs seemed to thrum with each step.

“I wish I knew what got into my broomstick,” Obi-Wan finally broke the silence with a sigh, “It’s never acted such a way before, I’m sure I looked like a great fool,” Cody and Satine both tensed up and they all came to a halt.

“You were a victim of foul play, Ben,” Satine told him softly and after hesitating, “Krell had your broom locked in a jinx,” He blinked and turned to Cody for confirmation. Cody’s lips were in a hard line.

“Really? Krell?” He didn’t think the other student had such a thing in him, though perhaps he was thinking of prefect Krell and not ex-prefect Krell. There wasn’t much left to hide if you were already disliked throughout the school.

“The headmaster’s dealing with him,” Satine nodded and continued stiffly, “We caught him in the act.”

“Well,” He wasn’t as mad as his friends looked, if Krell had been caught then justice had been served, “At least if it was just a jinx, I don’t have to buy a new broom,” Satine looked at Cody and Cody looked back at Satine before pulling the broken handle of Obi-Wan’s broom out of his pocket.

“About that...” And Obi-Wan groaned, Cody handed him the piece and he inspected it. Somehow it was still just as polished. Cody gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, “It’s alright mate I’ll help you pick out a new one, I’ve got this month's catalogue and there are some great new models!” He nodded absentmindedly. He would have truthfully just told Cody to pick whatever seemed best anyways. He then remembered that he had not lost track of one of his possessions, but two.

“Please don’t tell me I have to replace my wand as well,” He breathed out trying to stay calm, but it was difficult. An heirloom like that would be impossible to replace.

“No, no!” Satine reached a hand into her pocket and he had never been happier to see the sleek black wand, “I’ve got it!”

They continued walking while Obi-Wan inspected his wand for any damage, but not even a scratch had befallen it.

“So the game,” Obi-Wan over at Cody, “Who won?”

“I don’t know,” Cody told him, “We left as soon as we handed over Krell. I told Anakin and Rex to stay, but I’m nearly sure it’s over by now.”

“I hope I didn’t mess this up for Ravenclaw,” He hummed.

“You didn’t mess anything up,” Satine’s voice was like ice, but for once it wasn’t directed at him, “Whether Ravenclaw won or lost doesn’t matter.”

“Well it matters to Gryffindor,” Cody said before catching Satine’s narrowed eyes, “I mean, either way we’re planning to stomp you in the final match.”

“Well I’d much rather Ben be alive,” Satine rolled her eyes.

They reached the final hallway before the Ravenclaw door and Cody took off with a wave and a promise to let Anakin and Rex know he’d survived. He was grateful for it as hopefully Cody would be the one being pestered and not him. He and Satine approached the door to their common room, fighting to answer the Ravenclaw riddle first. Satine was the winner by a few seconds and gave him her best smug look as the door swung open. Stairs were becoming his enemy, but he made his way up them and into the chaos reigning in their normally quiet common room. Ravenclaw, it seems, had won after all.

***

“Can you believe Krell’s not getting expelled?” Satine looked up with a raised eyebrow as Anakin Skywalker dropped down dramatically across from her.

“That bastard has to have some kind of blackmail,” Cody growled, stabbing his pancakes with a little more force than was strictly necessary.

“It’s alright,” Ben was looking between them with nothing short of exasperation, “He’s still being punished.”

“He was already getting punished,” Cody complained, “But at least now there’s absolutely no way he’s weaseling his way back onto my Quidditch team. A stunt like that should get him banned from every team in the country.”

“I wouldn’t have wanted him expelled on my account anyways,” Ben shook his head, returning his attention to the french toast, dripping with syrup, on his plate.

“He nearly killed you,” Satine reminded him, “That should definitely be grounds for expulsion.”

“They say it takes a lot for you to get expelled around here,” Anakin told them as he loaded up his own plate. The clock tower rang before anyone could ask him where he’d heard such a thing and the owls were swooping in right on time. Ben checked his own watch with a frown.

“Madame Nema will be expecting me soon,” He didn’t sound too happy about it.

“I can walk you there!” Anakin perked up.

“You’ve hardly eaten breakfast Anakin,” He tried before sighing, “Well alright, finish your breakfast and we’ll go,” Anakin nodded before picking up his plate and darting off towards where Rex was sitting at the Gryffindor table.

“Satine?” Ben sounded hesitant and it was too easy to pull her attention off the Gryffindors and onto him, “Do you really think it’s Anakin?”

“Ben,” She sighed, trying to lower her voice though she knew if Cody was listening he wouldn’t say anything, “I’m sorry for yesterday, but I can’t throw out a suspect simply on the basis of trust.” Ben seemed to consider her, really consider her before he turned back to his syrup drenched toast and changed the subject.

“What do you think the odds of learning to cast spells with my left hand by tomorrow is?”

***

Anakin jumped up when the hospital doors opened and Obi-Wan slunk out, looking both ways like someone may see him.

“What did the doctors tell you?” He asked, following Obi-Wan down the hall towards the library.

“I’m fine Anakin,” He smiled, but Anakin wasn’t stupid; he saw the slight limp and the wrapped wrist and frowned.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked softer and Obi-Wan stopped to look at him, “It was a really big fall,” Obi-Wan seemed to look through him, like he was trying to read his very thoughts and Anakin squirmed.

“I told you when you started that Quidditch is a very dangerous sport,” Obi-Wan told him, “I did get very lucky, but I promise I’m okay,” He then continued walking, but Anakin’s thoughts weren’t quite settled.

“What if the cloak guy tries to off me like Krell did to you?” He’d always felt safe in the air, but uncertainty seemed to be coming for him at every turn these days.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan had paused again, turning towards him and putting his hands on his shoulders, “Pulling a stunt like Krell did is a one ticket way to be caught. He’d have to reveal himself to us and if he wanted to do that, we’d have seen him by now,” It didn’t sit quite well with Anakin even though he knew Obi-Wan was right, but he followed his mentor down the hall anyways and tried to push mysterious cloaked figures out of his mind. 

***

Obi-Wan was walking at a brisk pace through the emptying halls. He was in the dungeons making his way towards potions class when he nearly ran right into an opening door. He managed to skid to a halt grabbing the edge of the door before it tried to close and peering inside.

“Anakin,” Sure enough his mentee was standing frozen under the door frame.

“Oh hi, Obi-Wan!” He said his name cheerfully, but he did look a little wary for being caught.

“What are you doing in here?” He checked the door, “The potions storage room?” 

It was odd, he knew Anakin liked potions class even though he didn’t have much of a knack for it, but there was no reason for a first year to be snooping around the eye of newt when he should be out in the greenhouses for herbology.

“I was just checking to see...” He trailed off as he looked at the walls of ingredients, “There!” He pointed up at something and Obi-Wan followed his gaze to a jar labeled ‘bezoars’.

“And what is it that you find so intriguing about that?” Obi-Wan crossed his arms.

“Well that’s what they fixed me with right?” Anakin asked with a shrug, “I just thought I’d like to see one. Professor Palpatine wouldn’t mind,” and Anakin wasn’t wrong, Professor Palpatine encouraged the students to familiarize themselves with the various ingredients. Only the most dangerous things were kept under lock and key.

“Yes, bezoars are a cure for most poisons,” Obi-Wan nodded, never one to pass up a moment to teach, “However, this would be a more noble quest if you weren’t meant to be in Herbology right now. Come along, I can walk you there and then at least you won’t get points for being late,” Anakin seemed nervous, looking around before he pushed Obi-Wan gently towards potions.

“I can’t have you walk all the way over there! You’re practically an invalid,” He complained and Obi-Wan sputtered to a halt.

“Excuse me?” He tried to turn, but Anakin was pushing him forward.

“You’re brittle! You definitely should sit down,” He instructed, “I don’t want you to pass out on me or anything.”

“Anakin! I’m perfectly fine,” Obi-Wan whirled around and Anakin took a step back with a frown, “I can make it to my class with no trouble. You on the other hand need to be in class in...” He checked his watch, “about a minute.”

“And I’ll get there in time if you let me go!” Anakin whined.

“There’s no way-” Obi-Wan tried to interject, but Anakin just shook his head and started jogging back the way they’d come.

“I’ve gotta go! You should sit down before you fall over!” He called over his shoulder.

“Anakin!” He tried, but it was futile. Obi-Wan sighed before his attention was drawn to a piece of parchment fluttering to the ground. It had clearly fallen from Anakin’s person, but there was no use chasing the boy down. He had half a mind to worry if Satine’s suspicions were about to come to life, however after a close inspection it was blank, save for some water damage.

“Revelio,” He tried, tapping his wand to the parchment. Ink seeped up towards the surface spelling out his name and he nearly dropped it.

‘Obi-Wan Kenobi should keep his nose out of other people’s business.’

After a moment of stunned silence, he let out a short burst of relieved laughter. It was just a scrap of joke parchment. He tucked it into his bag, well he supposed he’d return it to Anakin next time he saw the boy.

***

“First you were nearly late to potions and now Qui-Gon’s class?” Obi-Wan took his seat next to Satine, who greeted him with rolled eyes and a smile, “And here I thought you wanted to be Head Boy. What kept you?”

“Found a couple of first years trying to sneak into the girls bathroom,” He sighed, dropping his bag on the floor between them, “I can’t say I find the appeal. They’d likely end up with nothing more than being the subject of a few stinging jinxes.”

“Given my assumption of the boys bathroom, maybe they were simply looking for a cleanlier option,” She suggested, jest sparkling in her eyes as she moved to pull out a rather long piece of parchment, “Qui-Gon’s already said we’ll just be working on our project today,” She pointed towards the instructions scrawled on the blackboard, “He says we could use a day to work in class, but secretly I think he’s gotten himself enamored with another prophecy book.”

Satine was likely right, as Qui-Gon was sitting in the front of the room with a book propped open on his knee and a teacup held opposite. If he was taking a break from reading every book in the library, Obi-Wan couldn’t say he blamed him much. Random facts about charms still danced behind his eyes when he was trying to fall asleep at night and no matter how interesting they were, he hadn’t the skills to make much use of them.

“Have you got any spare parchment?” Satine drew his attention by running the feather of her quill across his cheek. He rubbed away the feeling with the sleeve of his robe, giving her a half hearted glare for her trouble.

“I’m sure I do,” He yanked his bag up by the strap, “Be my guest,” He figured he should order her some new parchment. She’d been taking notes for the both of them since Madame Nema still hadn’t given him permission to remove the wrappings on his arm. Satine had been refusing his thanks, but he still wanted to think of a way to acknowledge his appreciation.

“What’s this?” He blinked and looked at the folded parchment in her hands, “I know it’s not yours. You never fold your parchment.”

“Anakin dropped it,” He shrugged and watched as she inspected it, “It’s just a bit of a joke parchment I think.”

“You think?” She asked before setting it on her desk and pulling out her wand.

“I already tried ‘Revelio’ and all I got was an insult,” He warned her and she paused, thinking through her repertoire of spells.

“Revelio Maxima,” She tapped her wand once and just like when he had tried it words bloomed forth from within.

‘Perhaps, Satine Kryze, you should try harder next time.’

“See I tried to warn you,” He shrugged, Satine looked more thoughtful than offended and tapped her wand to her lips.

“This isn’t necessarily an insult,” She considered, picking it up and watching the ink fade away, “It was an instruction, maybe we should try something a little more creative?”

“You get instructions and I get insulted,” He sighed, but couldn’t help the curious smile growing on his face. He liked a challenge, but really what sort of Ravenclaw didn’t like a good riddle? He pulled the parchment in between their desks and got out his own wand, “Alohomora,” He tried.

‘Really, Kenobi?’

“It doesn’t like you much does it?” Satine giggled and tapped her wand against the parchment again.

They tried a wide variety of spells, running through any sorts of useful charms they could think of, before Satine guessed a phrase.

“Open Sesame!”

“I’m sorry what?” Obi-Wan looked over at her feeling perplexed.

“It’s a muggle phrase,” Her cheeks turned a bit pink at the scrutiny, “It’s a little childish, but Anakin was raised as a muggle.”

Their attempts continued, at some point they’d gotten onto much more complex, silly phrases and Obi-Wan was just about to try one that seemed to be on the right track when Satine had him pause, her hand landing on his slightly more damaged one.

“Wait, we shouldn’t be doing this in class,” She pointed out with a whisper, “What sorts of prefects are we?” Obi-Wan glanced around and normally he would agree, but Qui-Gon had still not once looked up from his book and the rest of the class was chatting quietly in pairs. It was hard for him to feel out of place in Qui-Gon’s classroom.

“Come on, one more guess?” He asked, batting his eyelashes at her. She shoved him gently, but sighed.

“Well then, show me up, Mr. Prefect,” She slid the parchment closer to him and he flourished his wand a little dramatically.

“I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good,” He tapped the parchment. Immediately, the ink started seeping up, but this time it was not forming only a short sentence. It was forming a scroll with his name written in elegant font, and the one right beside it was Satine’s. In fact it looked quite a lot like Qui-Gon’s classroom.

Obi-Wan ripped the parchment off their desks and into his lap, hoping to keep it out of sight of his professor or their classmates before he could figure out what he was even holding.

“Let me see!” Satine pulled it towards her slightly and unfolded another part of it.

With every piece unfolded the picture became clearer that it was a map. A map showing every single magical person in Hogwarts and their exact location.

“Look there!” Satine pointed and he looked to see a broom closet. The drawn wall moved under her finger to reveal a path that led to the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory.

“That’s...” But he didn’t even know how to finish such a thought. This was the missing piece they’d been searching for and hadn’t even known it. A map that showed every corridor, person, and apparently, every secret tunnel in the entire school.

And it had been in the possession of Anakin Skywalker.

“Ben,” Satine said his name slowly, looking at him with a cautious expression, “We have to-”

“-I know,” He interrupted her. This was not a coincidental test key or a robe on the ground, this was practically an arrow pointing towards Anakin, exclaiming loudly that he was the culprit, “We need to go straight to the headmaster,” He swallowed. Satine stood up and raised a hand and he followed her folding up the parchment in his hands.

“Yes Satine?” Qui-Gon looked up from his book with a frown, “Is everything alright?”

“We need to go to the Headmaster’s immediately,” she announced, “prefect business.”

***

Anakin was in a foul mood. First he’d nearly been late Herbology, barely making it away from his mentor in time to use the tunnels. And then he’d discovered that for the second time this year, he’d misplaced the map. 

“Where have you been?” Rex asked, looking away from reading through Cody’s corrections on his history essay, “I thought we were going to go over tonight's plan?”

“Well here’s the plan. There isn’t one,” He grumbled, “I must have dropped the map somewhere, but I’ve looked everywhere!”

“You lost it?” Rex gasped, dropping his essay on the table, “What if someone bad finds it?”

“I don’t know!” Anakin hissed, trying to keep his voice down. There were other people in the Gryffindor common room, and although most liked to leave first years well enough alone, he didn’t want any eavesdroppers, “But I’ve gotta find it before Windu-”

The portrait hole opened and Anakin nearly jumped out of his skin as Professor Windu bent and twisted his way into the common room. All eyes went to him immediately, but he said nothing, just scanned the crowd before his eyes landed on Anakin.

“Skywalker, come with me.”

As he followed Professor Windu out of the portrait hole, all he could think about was every regret he’d ever had. Thankfully there weren’t many, but he did wish he’d written his mum more, or gotten to kiss Padmé. He contemplated what his last words would be before he ran into worn robes that had stopped in their tracks.

He looked up at Professor Windu, waiting for him to pull out that sword from his dream, but his professor did nothing except turn to a large winged statue.

“Root leaf stew,” Was all he said, but stairs suddenly started growing out of the ground, spinning around and around until they stopped forming an elegant spiral staircase.

“Um, what-?” He’d been through nearly every passageway in the school, but this was not one he knew. He hoped he wasn’t being led to another hidden beast, but Windu simply crossed his arms.

“The headmaster wants to see you.”

Anakin climbed up the stairs and was relieved when Windu didn’t follow. Still, if this really was the headmasters office, this couldn’t be good.

Yoda’s office looked much like Qui-Gon had described it to him, with portraits of all the past headmasters staring down at him. Under less intimidating circumstances, he wouldn’t mind a fair look around as there were shelves of books and strange objects- maybe even some contraband stored somewhere. Headmaster Yoda, however, caught his eye almost immediately and waved him over and into a chair across from his desk.

“Know why you are here, do you?” Yoda’s voice echoed just slightly in the otherwise quiet room and Anakin shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

“Win- I mean, Professor Windu said you wanted to see me,” He said nervously. Normally in these sorts of situations, he’d explain why he didn’t do it, but unfortunately he really didn’t know what ‘it’ was this time. Yoda nodded at his words, closing his eyes for a moment before continuing.

“Heard of the cheating scandal, have you?” Yoda asked, laying his little hands on the desk before them, “Rewritten, the O.W.L.s had to be,” Anakin’s brows furrowed as he tried to figure out where this was going.

“Yeah, I mean I know the prefects are looking for who it is,” And like being hit with a ton of bricks, or perhaps a bludger, it dawned on him what was being insinuated, “Hold on! You don’t think I’ve done it?” Yoda looked at him, expression rather grave.

“Found, evidence has been. That the culprit, you are,” Anakin stood up swiftly.

“What evidence? I didn’t do it!” Yoda just blinked at him, waiting until Anakin begrudgingly collapsed back into the plush chair.

“Show you, I will,” He finally said, opening a drawer in his desk and pulling out a long black cloak, “Found, this was, in a hidden passage by your bed.”

“But that-” He interrupted, but was given a thoroughly chastising look.

“Your name, it has,” He tapped the tag of the robe, but pulled out the O.W.L.s key he’d found before he could interrupt, “Gave this to Satine and Obi-Wan, you did. Dodged their questions, also.”

“Headmaster-”

“Hush,” Yoda held up a hand, “Alone, these things are not,” Lastly he pulled out a square of parchment. Anakin felt sick at the sight, his map, water damaged and all, was placed between them, “Fell from your robes, this did,” Anakin’s mind raced. He knew he was innocent, but this was not a good look, “Open it, why don’t you?” Yoda suggested, sliding it towards him, “Otherwise, check your wand, we will.”

“Headmaster, Professor,” Anakin felt small as he pleaded, “I didn’t do it, if I was going to steal cheat sheets then why wouldn’t I use them myself!”

“Scored 100 on Professor Windu’s holiday assignment, did you not?” Yoda questioned, “Impossible, that is, without the key.”

“What? No!” Anakin roared standing up again, “I did that fair and square! My mum could tell you too!”

“Even so, too much,” Yoda tapped the map with his own wand and the map swam to life, “This is.”

“So what? You’re going to expel me?” Anakin kicked the desk furiously, “For something I didn’t even do?”

“Expel you, I will not,” Yoda fixed him with a careful expression, “But given detention and suspended from the Quidditch team, you will be.”

[dontmindthefangirling]

Newsflash {p.p.}

chapter 1

gif credits to owner

Summary: You’re an up and coming journalist starting out at the Daily Bugle when you get your first assignment. Uncover Spider-Man’s true identity.

Warnings: swearing

prologue | series masterlist

-

Gun shots rang in your ears as you hid behind a nearby bench, slowly peeking your head up to get a few photos of Spider-Man as he swung into action. 

A week ago you would have thought you had lost your mind as you willingly put yourself in harms way in order just to get some rare pictures of New York’s superhero. But your job depended on this, so that’s how you ended up crouched behind a bench in Queens, a block away from a store robbery, zooming in on Spider-Man in order to get some impressive shots. 

Your hope was that if you lingered around after the crime fighting ended, you could follow Spider-Man to wherever he went after a days work of putting away bad guys. And your hope continued that you’d get a few shots of him taking off his mask. 

Maybe he’d perch himself on top of a building and take off the mask to breathe, or maybe he swung into some alley, but either way, your goal was to follow him. 

The last three nights in a row, you hadn’t had such luck because you hadn’t factored in that Spider-Man can shoot webs and swing from building to building while it took you much longer to jog. 

You remained hopeful, and for now, Jameson was eating up the rare action shots you were getting of Spider-Man. But you knew his patience would run out soon if you didn’t provide an identity for him soon. 

The gun shots came to a halt and you lifted your head, your camera ready as you spotted Spider-Man saying something to the criminals that were now wrapped in webbing. He had his hands on his hips and he shook his head at the criminals, like he was lecturing them before he turned and shot a web towards the top of a nearby building. 

“Shit,” you hissed, getting up from your hiding spot and jogging towards the building. You realized, maybe the best way to follow Spider-Man wasn’t from the ground, but from up above. You could see him, still, standing on the roof of a nearby building, the American flag billowing in the wind behind him. He looked like he was on the phone. 

You lifted your camera, zooming in on him casually putting his leg up on the ledge of the roof, talking on the phone. It was so easy to forget that there was an actual human in that red and blue suit, and seeing him do things that normal humans do made for some great pictures. 

As soon as you pressed click, Spider-Man looked in your direction and your heart got caught in your throat when you could see that he was looking directly at you. You forgot that he had heightened senses or something. He could probably hear your heartbeat from where he was. 

You lowered your camera, feeling like a deer in the headlights when Spider-Man swung himself down and was now standing a few feet in front of you. Being this close to him, you realized he wasn’t that tall, but he still stood a few inches taller than you. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. You looked around, wondering if he really was talking to you, but when you realized you were in a pretty empty part of Queens, especially due to the gunshots that had recently stopped, you knew he was talking to you. 

“Uh, taking...pictures?” you managed to say even though your mouth felt dry.

“Yeah I know,” Spider-Man said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’ve been following me.”

“What?” you croaked, your voice going like three octaves higher than normal. “N-no I haven’t.”

“Yeah you have,” Spider-Man said. “You’ve been at every crime scene for the last three days with that camera.”

He pointed at the camera in your hands and you swallowed thickly. Never had you imagined he would have noticed you lurking in the corners of each of his fights, snapping picture after picture. 

“Who do you work for? New York Times? Daily Bugle? Washington Post?” he demanded, stepping closer to you. You were now sure he could hear the way your heart was hammering against your chest. 

“Uh, second one,” you choked out, looking up at his white eyes that seemed to narrow. 

“Daily Bugle?” he practically scoffed. 

“I’m sorry, it’s my job-”

“You could’ve gotten seriously hurt, you know,” he said shaking his head at you. “Putting yourself in the middle of danger. What if you got shot or something taking a picture? Is your life really worth your job?” 

You furrowed your eyebrows and put your free hand on your hip. 

“Look, photography is my passion and I just got this internship at the Daily Bugle, which I don’t have to remind you, is a huge platform, and I’m just trying to do my best,” you said back. 

Spider-Man stared at you, his white eyes calculating as he cocked his head to the side again. 

“What’s your name?” he finally said. You stared at him, blinking as you wondered if you heard him correctly. 

“What’s yours?” you asked back. 

Spider-Man chuckled. “Nice try.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “It’s (Y/N).”

Spider-Man stared at you for a few moments again before he let out a sigh. 

“Well (Y/N), it was lovely finally talking to my stalker.”

“I-I’m not-”

“But stop being stupid. No job is worth your life and some of the guys I fight are seriously dangerous. I don’t need you getting in the middle of their crossfire. I know I’m ridiculously photogenic, but stop following me to crime scenes, okay?” he said sternly. 

You frowned, staring up at him. “What if I don’t?”

Spider-Man laughed bitterly. “You seem like a nice girl and I don’t want to, but I could easily break that camera of yours. Any pictures you have would be poof! Gone.”

You clutched your camera to your chest. This camera was your pride and joy and you would not let Spider-Man break it. 

“Are we clear?” Spider-Man asked, looking at how you held your camera. 

“Crystal,” you sneered. 

“Good,” Spider-Man retorted. He took a few steps away from you before shooting some webs at a nearby building and swinging away, disappearing in the Queens skyline. 

You let out a groan, and began making your way to the nearest subway to head home. 

How were you supposed to find out Spider-Man’s identity now that he was onto you?

-

“You look pissed,” your roommate, Jane, pointed out as soon as you entered your shared apartment a few blocks away from NYU’s campus. 

“I am,” you groaned as you put your camera down on the kitchen counter and went to grab a glass of water. 

“No secret identity revealed yet?” Jane asked, her legs up on the coffee table while she stared at the TV, another episode of The Office playing. 

“He fucking caught me,” you groaned, plopping down next to her on the couch. Jane turned away from the TV and looked at you, raising an eyebrow. 

“Spider-Man caught you?”

“He knew I was following him for the last three days and he threatened to break my camera if I kept dong it,” you said, leaning your head back against the couch. 

Jane whistled. “Shit dude. That’s bad.”

“Yeah, it’s bad,” you agreed. “What am I going to do? Jameson is expecting some identity reveal soon and I can only hold him off for so long. But now I can’t even get those rare pictures of Spider-Man because he will break my camera.”

Jane sighed. “Have you tried asking Spider-Man nicely?”

You glared at her. “Not funny.”

“(Y/N), Jameson set you up with an impossible task. Spider-Man is never going to just reveal himself, especially not to a girl with a camera. He’s a superhero, and they’re usually pretty careful about who knows their identity,” Jane said, giving you a sympathetic smile. 

You knew she was right. 

When Jameson gave you this assignment, you had been hopeful because there are so many Spider-Man fan accounts around New York that post sightings of him around the city and maybe someone would have some insight into who he really is, but that was a dead end you found. 

So you went to following him yourself. But now he knows and there’s no way he’d let you walk into another crime scene again. 

“I’m going to bed,” you sighed, standing from the couch. 

“Are you sure? I can make popcorn and we can have an Office marathon,” Jane suggested. 

You smiled at her and shook your head. “I’d love that any other night, but I have class in the morning.”

“Ah, right,” Jane said, waving you off. “Sleep well!”

“Thanks!” you called back, walking towards your bedroom. You plopped onto your bed, and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, wondering how you were going to keep this job. 

-

You hoisted your backpack over your shoulder as you entered the Columbia classroom. Luckily for you, NYU and Columbia had some joint classes that you could sign up for, which is why you were taking this photography course through Columbia. 

You were a little intimidated at first, taking a class at an Ivy League school, but as soon as you talked to the professor about some photography tips, you became more settled. The professor was very down to earth and he was an expert in the field. 

You were early, as you usually were since you left yourself more time to get to Columbia’s campus, so you settled in your usual seat, taking out a notebook and scrolling through some social media on your phone. The classroom slowly began to fill as it got closer to the time for class to start. 

MJ, a girl who you started becoming friends with as you usually sat next to each other during class, slid into the seat next to you. 

“Hey,” she greeted. “I got you a coffee.”

“Awe, MJ,” you gushed. “Thank you.”

“So how’s operation spider going?” MJ asked, raising her eyebrows as she sipped from her own drink. You looked around nervously, now worried that Spider-Man could be anywhere, but no one was paying attention to your conversation. 

“It’s hit a brick wall,” you sighed, sipping the coffee. 

“That sucks, dude,” MJ said. You nodded. 

“Big time.”

A few minutes later, the professor walked in and began talking to the class. He started talking about a new project that he’d be pairing you up with partners for. You internally groaned. You were a solo artist, and you felt that your vision was very specific. 

But maybe collaborating with someone would open your eyes more. 

Your professor began reading off names and you listened for yours. 

“Michelle Jones and Margaret Elliot.” 

You sighed, disappointed you weren’t with MJ. 

“(Y/N) (L/N) and Peter Parker.”

You looked around the room. You didn’t know who Peter Parker was, and you didn’t see anyone looking in your direction, so you waited until the professor was done assigning partners. 

“I went to high school with Peter,” MJ whispered to you. You looked at her. 

“You did?”

“Yeah. He’s nice.”

The professor finished assigning partners when everyone stood and began sitting with their partners. You looked around when someone tapped you on the shoulder. You turned around and saw his familiar face. 

“Dumpster boy?” you said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Uh, what?” he stammered. You blushed, realizing he had no idea what you were talking about and shook your head.

“Never mind. I’m (Y/N),” you said.

“Yeah I know,” he grumbled walking over to a pair of open seats. “I’m Peter.”

You were taken aback by his tone and frowned as you sat in the open seat next to him. MJ said he was nice? 

“So you know MJ?” you asked, trying to make conversation. Peter seemed to be having none of it. 

“Yeah. Went to high school together,” he said, pulling out his laptop to look at the guidelines for the project. You stared at him for a few seconds before pulling out your own laptop and reading the guidelines. 

You and Peter worked in silence for the rest of the class period, researching some ideas for your project. The entire time, you could feel his eyes on you for a few times before he’d go back to his leg of the project. You could hear other groups chatting about ideas, but not you and Peter. 

You internally groaned. This was going to be a long project. 

When class let out, you stood from your seat, putting your things away when Peter finally said something to you.

“Nice camera,” he said, gesturing to your camera that poked out of your bag. You were taken aback by his words and looked at your camera and back at him before nodding. 

“Thanks.”

Without saying anything else, Peter began to walk away, with his bag over his shoulder. You finished putting your things away when you realized you and Peter were going to have to work on the project outside of class and you didn’t have his number. You scrambled out of your chair and chased after Peter, following him out onto the street. 

“Hey!” you called, skipping down the stairs. Peter froze and turned when you approached him, his eyebrows furrowed.

“We should, uh, exchange numbers,” you pointed out. “To work on the project.”

Peter stared at you for a few moments as if he were deciding whether or not to give it to you before he finally pulled his phone from his pocket. You wordlessly exchanged numbers.

“Thanks,” you said softly. Peter didn’t say anything to you as he walked away. You stared at his back as he got further away and scoffed. 

What a jerk.

-

As soon as Peter was far enough away from you, he let out the breath he had been holding the entire class period and sat on a nearby set of stairs to steady his heart. 

Of all people, he got paired with you. 

He tried his best not to talk because if you caught onto his voice and put it together to last night then he knew you’d go running to the Daily Bugle and his lovely friend J. Jonah Jameson would reveal his identity to the entire city. 

Peter knew one thing. As long as you worked for that slandering news station, he couldn’t trust you. 

He had to stay away. 

-

chapter 2 coming soon!

taglist: @thatcrazyfangirl814 // @spacyparker // @imagine-lovebug //

[smuttyassholes]

Take It

Request: A Yoongi scenario where he comes out of the shower just when you enter the room and some really passionate hot sex happens. (Including a lot of fingering)

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

Rated : M

You were blindfolded, the only sound you could hear was how wet you were while Yoongi rapidly shoved his fingers in and out of you. Your hands that were tied to the bed were trying desperately to get free, but to no avail.

“Yo-Yoongi” You whined, he knew you loved touching him, but he loved seeing you so needy for him. He hummed in response, adding his thumb to the mix by placing it on your throbbing clit, causing you to jolt at the sudden feeling, your high coming close, but you knew better than to just let it happen.

“Hmm, are you close? You’re clenching.” You could practically see the smirk he had. “Do you get off on my fingers that bad?” He cooed. “I should’ve known. You always get so worked up over them.” He said, curling them to meet your sweet spot. “Tell me how much you love them, and you can cum.” He whispered, watching how you bit your lip.

“Fuck, I lo-”

“Y/n.” Yoongi said lightly shaking you and smirking down at you.

“Y’know, if I was that good last night, you could’ve just asked for another round.” He chuckled, watching as you stared at him in confusion, silently hoping he couldn’t read minds.

“You kept whining my name, flattering, really, but I’d prefer you to be awake when you say my name.” He winked, and you closed your eyes, trying to turn around, only to be stopped by his hand finding purchase on your bare waist. “What’d you dream about?” He bit his lip.

You swallowed thickly, laughing nervously. “Nothing, really.” You shook your head, focusing your eyes on the bridge of his nose so you weren’t looking him in the eye.

“Y/n” He chuckled, “If I trail my hand down between those pretty little thighs, and find out you’re lying, you’re in for a hell of a day, so you better fess up.” He said. “You know you’re a bad liar.”

“It was about you.” You blurted out.

“Well obviously.” He scoffed.

“Can you shut up? I’m trying to talk.” You bit back.

“Talk back again, see what happens.” His tone changed and you nodded.

“And your hands. Fingers specifically.” You looked away, and his hands moved to your hip, giving a gentle squeeze.

“What about my fingers.” He whispered.

“What else?” You grumbled, and he squeezed harder.

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“You were fingering me. While I was blindfolded. And tied to the bed. Lots of dirty talk.” You spoke in small sentences, but they seemed to suffice as Yoongi’s hold loosened.

“Was that so hard?” He cooed, and all you did was glare. “If you want that dream to come true, you better change that attitude.”

“How can I change it. You know I’m not good at expressing shit.” You grumbled, rolling over so you were facing opposite of him, feeling shy, but he only pulled you into him, moving your hair so he could press kisses on your neck.

“And you know I normally don’t ask.” He said between kisses “But it’s a dream, and you were whining and squirming in your sleep. Sorry, I’m not a mind reader.” He bit your neck, the same spot he bit the night before. “How about I make it up to you?” He whispered, his hand trailing over your thigh, to your inner thigh.

“Yes, please.” You sighed as his hands continued to linger on your inner thigh.

“Then spread your legs for me.” His breath fanning your ear, before he bit your lobe, his hands sliding to your slit, a finger running up and down, collecting your juices. “Must’ve been a nice dream. You’re nice and wet for me, like the good little slut you are.”

You whined as his fingers made contact with your clit every time his finger went up, but it wasn’t enough, so you bucked your hips into his hand.

“You can try all you want, but I’m not gonna listen to you. I’m in charge here.” He whispered, ignoring your whimper. “Don’t complain. You know you love being teased and treated like this. Let me have my fun.”

You bit your lip and threw your head back into his shoulder, which also gave him better access to your neck, while he slipped two fingers inside of you, using his thumb to add pressure to your clit, smirking against your neck when you squirmed around.

“Such a good girl for me.” He praised seductively. “I love when you squirm around, unable to do anything but just take what I give you.”

“Fuck, Yoongi, please.” You whimpered, but he stopped, leaving you to whine at the loss.

“As much as I want to keep going, your alarm’s going off.” He chuckled.

You hadn’t even heard it. You were so caught up in Yoongi and his actions, that you didn’t realize your alarm was going off on the counter.

“Wouldn’t want you to be late for class.” He said, getting off the bed, and putting his clothes on.

-

“You look beat. Didn’t sleep much last night?” Your friend asked, handing you your usual coffee as she took the seat next to you, other students coming in at random times.

“Kinda.” You sighed.

“You’re a terrible liar, Y/n.” Your friend laughed.

You threw your head on the table. “He left me hanging.” You nearly cried.

“What? Are you talking about Yoongi?”

You nodded the best you could with your head on the table. “He didn’t finish what he started.” You said, trying to be as discrete as you could about the situation.

“Then do the same to him.” She said nonchalantly.

“I don’t think I can.” You grumbled.

“And why not?” She asked as if it were completely stupid.

“I’m not really used to taking charge?” You shrugged your shoulders, moving to sit up straight.

“Really? You’re so bitchy though.” She questioned.

“Just because I have an attitude doesn’t mean I’m dominant, Moe.” You bit back.

“See! There’s the attitude. Just make it sexual.” She smiled.

“That makes no sense. At all.” Your tone unamused.

“Fine then. Deal with your blue balls.” She laughed. “But don’t let it distract you, I have no idea what we’re doing in this class.” She whispered as the professor walked in, and announced the discussion for the day.

-

The day went by excruciatingly slow, and the ache between your legs only grew as the seconds passed, causing you to become extremely irritated. What right did Yoongi have to do this to you? It’s not like you pissed him off recently. He had no business putting you through this shit.

With that thought in mind, you thought about what Moe said as you walked back to your apartment. Could you really take charge? It seemed easier said than done and you weren’t sure if Yoongi could take orders.

By the time you got home, you unlocked the door, hearing the water running and you wondered if Yoongi even left. Or maybe he did and you forgot to lock the door because he didn’t have a key to your place.

The fact that he stayed lessened your anger, but not fully. You slammed the door as hard as you could and threw your laptop bag on the couch. In the midst of all the noise you were trying to make, you didn’t hear the water turn off, and you were greeted with Yoongi’s wet form when you walked into your room, only a loosely hanging towel on his hip. You swallowed thickly. No harm in trying, right?

“What the fuck was that this morning?” You snapped at him, surprised your voice was actually steady.

“I told you, I didn’t want you to be late. And don’t get an attitude.” He said, taking his hand and running his slim fingers through his wet locks.

“I think I have the right to have an attitude, so don’t start with your bullshit rules. You owe me at least that.” You grumbled, walking to your closet to change.

“Bullshit rules?” He laughed. “They don’t seem to be bullshit since you follow them so well.” His words made your hands stop. You didn’t think this far. Shit.

“Maybe I only follow them to humor you.” ‘Wow, great response, Y/n.’ You winced, glad that he couldn’t see you.

“Humor me? Really? You’re trying to tell me you aren’t submissive by nature?” You could hear the smirk in his voice, and you pulled out a tank top, taking your shirt off, and changing.

“It’s not like you’ve given me a chance to show you otherwise.” You grumbled. ‘Fuck, Y/n, you aren’t thinking. Why the fuck would you say that. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fu-’

”Then show me how dominant you can be.” He smiled, sitting on the bed, the light making the water droplets more visible and you swallowed.

‘Shit’ “Fine.” You said, making your way over to him, and sitting on his lap, your bare thighs barely touching his waist as your skirt lifted, Yoongi moving his hands to touch them but you swatted him away. “No touching until I say so.” You whispered, moving your hands so they were on his shoulders, and leaning in to press kisses on his neck.

The groan he released was encouragement to step it up, starting to nibble at the soft flesh, biting down close to his jugular.

“Fuck, y/n.” He groaned loudly, hands grabbing at the sheets below him as you sucked on the spot you had previously bit down on, and started grinding your hips against his growing bulge.

“Faster.” He winced.

“I don’t really feel like it.” You giggled. “I like to take things slow.”

“If that were true you wouldn’t love fucking me so much.” He groaned, his hips bucking up to meet your hips, a surprised moan falling off your lips.

“You sure aren’t taking control now.” He licked his lips, bucking his hips up again. “What happened to my confident little kitty?” He looked up at you innocently.

‘Why the fuck did you think you could do this?’ You cursed yourself as you felt the heat creep up on your cheeks, you hips faltering slightly.

“W-well you’re supposed to listen to me and not do anything” You whined.

“And you’re supposed to put me in my place if I don’t listen.” He grabbed your hips so you were completely still, his slightly wet hands making your tank top stick to you. “Now, you can either lay on this bed like the good girl you are, and let me show you who’s really in charge, or I can make you.” He whispered, pulling you into him.

“That’s not how this was supposed to go.” You grumbled, trying to pull yourself away from his embrace.

“And how was it supposed to go, kitten.” He cocked a brow. “You know I don’t like to play silly little games.” He said, a hand moving to grab your arm so he could turn you around so you underneath him, taking his towel off in the process as he leaned over you, his arm supporting him.

“Payback for this morning.” You huffed out, turning your head to the side and crossing your arms.

“So you thought you could just grow a dominant bone in like six hours?” He chuckled. “If it made you that mad, I’ll make it up to you.” He smiled. “After I put you back in your place.”

“No, make it up to me now. I’ve been needy all day, you don’t get to just keep fucking with m-” You were cut off by Yoongi shoving his hand up your skirt to cup your soaked core.

“God, you really were hot and bothered all day, weren’t you?” He smirk, rubbing his palm against you. “Did you get this wet thinking about me?” You bit your lip, not wanting to give in. “Words, kitten.” He growled, adding more pressure.

“Y-Yes.” You sighed at the contact, bucking against his hand.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Your fingers.” You closed your eyes “Inside me”

“Hmm, just my fingers?” He said, moving your panties to the side so he could rub small circles on your clit, causing you to moan in relief.

“And your dick, fuck, just do something, please” You whined, but he continued his slow torture.

“See? Doesn’t this fit you better?” He smiled, watching you squirm as his fingers rubbed faster. “Underneath me, pleading for me to take care of you.” He paused as he pushed a finger in, then a second when he found you were wet enough. “Because I think it fits you better.” He said as he curled his fingers inside you, watching your back arch off the bed.

“Please, don’t tease.”

“Why not kitten? You just tried to, why can’t I?” His fingers going picking up the pace.

“I-I’m sorry. Please, I was wrong, just fuck me.” You moaned.

“Oh, don’t worry kitten, I will.” He said, putting his thumb on your clit to rub harshly. “But you have to cum for me first.”

You threw your head back. He would go for over stimulation. You shook your head. “But I don’t wanna cum from your fingers.” You tried, feeling the knot in your stomach start to form. “I want to cum on your cock.” You were silently begging that he’d give in.

“How can I deny my kitten when she asks so nicely?” He smiled, slipping his fingers out of you slowly, but you knew there was something else he was planning. “All fours.”

Once you had turned around, you heard a shuffle behind you and soon felt Yoongi behind you, pulling your panties down to your knees, and then rubbing his tip running up and down your slit.

“Fuck” You sighed, pushing your hips back against him, getting a slap to your thigh in return.

“Always so impatient.” He sighed, pushing his tip in, but not moving, causing a pathetic whine to fall from your lips.

“Yoongi~”

“Fine, you wanna call shots, fuck yourself.” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

You stayed silent as you moved back against him, moaning at the feeling of him finally filling you, and though it took you a minute, you set a good pace.

“Go faster.”

“What if I don’t want to?” You licked your lips, slowing your pace, but the sudden confidence you gained was gone when Yoongi thrusted into you suddenly.

“Then I can just do this.” He said, placing a hand on your upper back to push you into the mattress, getting a better angle to fuck into you. “It’s cute. That little confident attitude of yours.” He panted out. “But it’s more cute to see your face down for me.” He groaned, setting a faster pace.

You were about to comeback with something but head a familiar buzzing behind you. Well fuck.

“How about we see how confident you can get?”

You didn’t have time to respond before he pushed the vibrator against your clit, watching as your body reacted almost immediately, and how your pussy clenched around him at the contact.

“You’re not playing fair.” You moaned weakly, too overwhelmed by the addition of pleasure.

“Who said I had to?” He rolled his hips. “You’re mine to use. There is no fair.” He chuckled. “And I don’t believe you don’t love this. You say one thing, but your body says another.”

You whimpered. “Y-Yoongi” You felt the knot again.

“Go ahead and cum, kitten.” He said, starting to pound into you. The only sounds in the room being drowned out by your increase in volume.

“Oh fuck.” You arched your back, and Yoongi trailed his hand from your upper back to your hair, yanking it back, so your head was leaned back, and he leaned over you.

“This is where you belong. Right here, taking what’s given to you. Who said you could switch those roles? Huh?” He growled in your ear and you felt the knot getting closer to busting. “You like when I put you in your place, don’t you? That’s why you had your little failed attempt at taking control. You just wanted me to remind you.”

“Yes, fuck!” You screamed as you came, but Yoongi just chuckled into your ear.

“I want one more out of you.” Was all he said, before pushing you back into the mattress, and moving his hand to your hip so he could push you back against him. The feeling of him and the vibrator making you cry out.

“Yoongi. Fuck, I can’t.” You tried squirming away, the burning sensation becoming too much

“I know you can.” He panted, pulling against him so you couldn’t move. “Just one more, you can do it.” He groaned, gripping your hips tighter.

You bit your lip as you felt your second orgasm coming, and you whined.

“Just let it go, baby, don’t even try to hold it.”

The word “baby” was your downfall. The word was rarely used between the two of you, and it’s unfamiliarity brought you over the edge, yours triggering Yoongi’s and he stilled while he came, dropping the vibrator on the bed.

You both stayed still, trying to get your breathing back to normal, and once you had, he pulled out, and turned the vibrator off, watching your legs as they gave out as soon as he pulled away from you. He smirked and went to the restroom to get a hand towel.

“Roll over,” He said. Once you had, he took off your panties and placed the towel over your sex, and you flinched, still too sensitive. “Just let me clean you, I’ll be quick. I know you hate feeling dirty.”

You sighed and let him clean you up regardless of how uncomfortable it was, and he threw the small towel on the floor where his was before getting in the bed and pulling the covers over you both.

“You know, this is really unfair.” He sighed.

“What’s unfair.”

“I’m naked and you’re still clothed.” He grumbled.

- asshole 4

[letholojimin]

14: THE EPILOGUE (JJK)

STUCK SERIES - PART 14

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Themes: high school au to uni au, badboy & fuckboy jungkook

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Word Count: 5,184

Summary: After being labelled the school’s biggest bad boy, Jeon Jungkook chooses to live up to the title. What he doesn’t know is that his arrogance will lead him to you.

SMUT WARNING

13 | EPILOGUE | MASTERLIST

To Jeon Jungkook, you’re the only girl in the world.

As both you and Jungkook grow older over the years, your love grows in strength. There are times wherein your loyalty and faith in each other is tested yet every obstacle only proves the greatness of your feelings for each other. Days bleed into months and months bleed into years and when you and Jungkook are accepted in your shared dream university, both of you and your families could not be any more ecstatic.

Your parents had arranged for the two of you to live in the same apartment with the condition that you had separate rooms. Both of you were speechless when you had found out about the deal between your families and you quickly agreed, happy that you were allowed to stay under the same roof at all. It was a lovely thing that your parents trusted each other’s because they had full support of the two of you’s relationship.

The boys had chosen varying courses, but they stayed within the vicinity. Your friends had decided to go to other colleges that were in different places from yours but you knew that you’d never replace each other because after all, high school was the golden time to make friends that you’d have for the rest of your life.

Now that the two of you were currently in your second year, you’ve had your fair share of college problems- constant exams, terror professors and college parties. You also knew how many girls had wanted your boyfriend, some even trying to steal him away at parties but he’d always been by your side so you’ve never had a problem with that.

Both of you sleep in the same bed, though, and the deal of your parents was intact because you had two rooms but the other one was pretty much left unoccupied. Both of you never get used to the feeling of waking up beside each other and starting the day with small talk or intimate moments to the sweet aroma of food cooked by one of you. Piece by piece, you felt your life coming together and slowly but surely, you knew you had found the one who you want to be with forever- because forever doesn’t seem that long when you’re with him.

Because he makes you feel like you’re the only girl in the world because to him, you are. He takes you out to diner dates, dinner meals, movie theatres, long drives. He holds you close to let you know he’ll be there if you ever cry. He kisses you slowly on nights wherein you’ve had a long day and he takes care of you when you’re scared about your future- whispering in your ear that you are his past, present, and his own future as well.

He strips you bare and caresses your cheek before he kisses your lips and when the moonlight hits your face, he still wonders how you’re his. His hands lock on your waist and touch your core to which his fingers create sparks- he marks your neck and grinds into you and calls you a work of art.

He treats you so well to the point that you wonder how he’s real- how you love a man so pure and angelic. You don’t know how to reciprocate at times because he gives you everything in turn for your love and sometimes you doubt if you’re ever enough. These are the nights when Jungkook tucks you in, his scent radiating from you because you’re wearing his shirt. These are the nights you cry silently, sobbing into his chest. These are the nights his heart breaks because of your tear-stained cheeks.

He knows you are perfect and you are more than enough.

There are days wherein you bury yourself into school work brought about by your heavy major, and he offers back massages to you to ease the tension on your shoulders. Jungkook worries that you’re overworking yourself as you tend to forget about your health during these times, so he brings you healthy food for you to eat and makes sure that you have three meals a day.

Then there are days wherein he comes home wasted, and you take care of his busted lip. You don’t know what caused it but you make sure that overall, he’s alright. The next day you find out it’s because of another man whose girl is running after him and you wish you could take the pain away because something like that is not his fault. You bandage his fists and place advil and water on the bedside table for when he wakes.

There are nights wherein he cries too, worried about his life ahead. He says that you’re the only clear picture in his mind when he thinks about the future, worried that he might not do well in his current academics even though his grades are nothing short of stellar. You know he is passionate in everything he does, putting his best efforts in to make sure that his work is always outstanding. You comfort him on these nights wherein it all gets too much for him, telling him that you’re always there for him.

It’s just on one particular night though, that Jungkook screws up.

He comes home drunk off his ass, hair disheveled and by that time, you’re already waiting for him. It is rare that you do not accompany him to parties but today, you just weren’t feeling it. You had failed a long quiz the morning before considering it was a party on a Friday night and you didn’t think it was a good idea to celebrate or drink the night away. Jungkook was invited by the host himself though, and since he promised to make and appearance, you had let him go by himself.

There was never any instance of disloyalty in either parties so you’d never worried about that. Jungkook wasn’t the problem, it was always the girls who came dressed up like pimps hoping that it would allow their chances of him giving in after throwing themselves at him to increase.  You were always a little bit iffy about them because they were all snakes who’d stop at nothing to get what they want but you never realized that they would go to this extent.

It’s hard for you to fall asleep with no warm body beside you so you always end up waiting for Jungkook on your bed, watching netflix or scrolling through social media. You find yourself doing the latter on this particular night and when the snapchat stories keep playing, you didn’t expect to find your boyfriend’s face on there.

Jungkook is on fucking fire, moving on the dance floor like the god he knows he is before some skinny brunette appears in the frame and the snap continues. She walks closer to him, close enough to leave you worried and she begins grinding against him. In this moment you see red.

He doesn’t push her off- instead he pulls her closer.

His eyes are closed and then suddenly, the girl’s lips are on his and the snap cuts off there, the last parts of the audio being wild yelling over the bass at the bold action of the girl. In this moment, you see blue.

It takes a moment for you to realize that tears are loosely streaming down your face, stuck in disbelief from what had just happened. It can’t be him, you say to yourself. But it is him and you know it.

When Jungkook comes home piss drunk, you walk him to your shared room. You’re careful not to show him your face as he stumbles through the living area because he might see your puffy eyes. He falls down on the bed the moment he reaches it, falling into slumber right after his head hits the pillow.

It’s when you stand in front of the bed that you start crying again, the shattered parts of your heart lying all across the floor. You had tried not to inhale all that much when you were close to him, afraid that there would be the scent of another girl’s perfume on him. Heated moments like those on the dance floor only lead to one thing, and you can’t bear to let yourself know anything about that.

You bring out the bag you use for road trips, packing jeans, shirts, sleepwear and essentials. You change out of the shirt you’re wearing, heart hurting even more when you realize who the owner is before putting on a sweater of your own and matching track pants, slipping on your sneakers after neatly folding the cloth lent to you and placing it at the bottom of the bed.

You take your phone and your bag, holding your car keys in your hand. The metal feels heavy in your palm but your chest feels heavier when you take a deep breath before stepping outside, the cool air hitting your face. You lock the door behind you, walking towards your car and placing your things inside and eventually sitting down in the driver’s seat, putting the key in the ignition.

Love has its ups and its downs, but you never knew that the fall could hurt that much.

That night, you have a road trip alone.

-

The next morning, Jungkook wakes. There’s no advil or water on the bedside table and there’s no warm body beside his. There’s no smell of food or any kind of noise from outside the room. He gets up slowly, spotting the shirt you were wearing when he left for the party neatly folded on the corner of the bed. Immediately, he is confused because it is a Saturday morning and you hadn’t informed him of any plans you had. He checks the kitchen counter to see if you’ve left a note where both of you usually do if you head out but there’s nothing there.

He unlocks his phone which is almost drained of any battery to call you only to be led to voicemail.

“Y/N, baby, where are you? I woke up and there’s no note here. Maybe you just forgot to put one, but you never forget so please call me back. I love you.”

Jungkook sighs, opening his other messages. He sees several ones, the most recent one from a guy he’d recently met in one of his classes.

Daniel – 9:16 am

Holy shit man, you were so wild last night! What the fuck was that with Sohee!

What the fuck was that with Sohee? Who even was Sohee?

Jungkook – 11:37 am

What do you mean? Who the hell is Sohee?

He decides to check his other messages to see if he could figure out what had happened. He’s anxious about what he’s going to see but he knows he didn’t do anything wrong or bad last night. Right?

Taehyung – 3:42 am

Jungkook, I will actually fucking kill you when I get to your apartment today. You fucking wait.

Jimin – 2:09 am

I can’t believe you, Jungkook. You screwed up. Big time.

Seokjin – 2:03 am

If I were you, I’d be fucking running to Y/N right now. Heard she saw Sara’s snap. You little shit- I’m going to beat you the fuck up. Why the hell did you go to Alec’s party when we all know about his shit reputation?

What the hell? Where was all this coming from? Hastily, he opens his snapchat to check Sara’s snap, clicking on the circle to see a bunch of videos from last night. He clicks on most of them before he reaches the 10 hour ago mark which meant that they were from around 1:30 am. He watches intently, waiting to see what you could possibly be worried about.

After a few snaps, he finds himself watching a video of him aggressively dancing to the beat of one of the house songs, people surrounding him from every angle to watch him dance. All of a sudden there’s a girl with hair the same shade as yours, height nearly the same, slim and clad in a little black dress. She walks over to him, and his palms are suddenly clammy. When she grinds on him, he eyes grow wide and when he pulls her in closer, he almost drops his phone. “Fuck,” He mutters and when he sees the next snap, his breath hitches in his throat.

His lips are on hers and with that, Jungkook’s world stops and his phone falls to the ground.

-

It’s two days after the party and there’s still no trace of you. Not long after seeing the video did he find out that some of your shirts are missing, your favorite jeans are nowhere to be found and your converse and rubber shoes have disappeared from beside the front door. He breaks down, realizing that you’d left without any notice on purpose and sweat beads at his forehead as he tries to figure out what exactly had happened the night before.

You looked like her, so he didn’t have any second thought when the girl grinded on his crotch and kissed his lips but when he opened his eyes and saw that hers were not the same shade as yours, he’d pushed her off and hailed a ride home from one of his sober friends, stumbling through your door.

He remembers that you helped him until he reaches the bed and his head hit the pillow, causing him to fall asleep right away but what he doesn’t remember is how you looked like. If you already knew at that time, why did you still help him? Why did you leave only after he made it home, which was where you were?

Question after question bombard his brain, voicemail after voicemail left in your inbox. You don’t answer any of his texts, you stay silent on twitter and it’s like you disappeared off the face of the Earth. He finds his heart breaking, incredibly guilty and sorrowed that you had walked away from him and he was so sorry for his extremely stupid mistake. This was the biggest regret he’d ever had in his entire life.

When Taehyung arrived later on that day after the party, he yelled at Jungkook from outside the apartment and called him all sorts of things and hit him with a wide variety of profanities before he realized how silent the younger one was. When he finally saw Jungkook, he saw that he was crying silently, eyes puffy from earlier tears. In that moment, he swore he had never seen his own friend so heartbroken so he stopped talking, took his brother into his arms before the maknae finally spoke.

“Hyung…” He whispered, voice cracking. “I can’t believe I did that to her.”

-

Two days and a night spent in a small hotel room in a city between your hometown and your college spent crying, you find yourself in front of your doorstep back in your old city. Your parents welcome you home, overjoyed at how you had found the time to come back even though your college schedule was busy. You told them you were homesick and that you missed them so much which was the reason why you were there. They quickly believed you and when they asked where Jungkook was, you replied with a simple ‘he’s in college,’ before trudging up the stairs to your old room.

The place is still the same as before, the bed neat and the tables a little bit dusty but otherwise, it’s still home. You turn on the air conditioner and strip in your bathroom for a hot bath before breaking down again, leaning against the wall as you let your tears fall down. Eventually, the water runs cold and you’re forced to get out, spending the rest of the day holed up in your room. When your mother knocks at your door to invite you down for dinner, you politely decline and after you remember how it felt like when Jungkook made love to you on top of this bed, you cry yourself to sleep.

It’s Monday when Jungkook hears from his parents that they had seen you around town and wished that he would come home too. Without a second thought, he packs his bags and cuts all his classes for the day, relieved when he finds out that there’s nothing important scheduled. He takes the drive down to your shared hometown and arrives after a few hours, wanting nothing more than to visit your home. He goes against his will and heads to his parent’s place which he hadn’t stayed in since he was in sophomore year before his family agreed to let him room with Taehyung and Jimin.

Later that night, he drives over to your home just to be faced with your parents who tell him that you aren’t there and that you’d gone out with Jinah, a family friend. They tell him the girls number and with the disguise that you’re one of his closest friends, she tells him that you’re at a nearby club.

A few minutes later, he pulls up at the parking lot of the club. He enters the place, wondering how there could be so many people partying on a Monday before spotting you taking shot after shot at the bar counter before this guy approaches you, taking your hand to lead you to the dance floor.

He forces himself to watch, praying for the strength not to intercede with you both. At first, it’s innocent- hands to yourselves, but time passes and his fists balls at his sides when the man reaches over to place his lips on your neck and press his fingers to your hips. Jungkook snaps, trudging over to the guy and punching him square in the jaw.

You shriek, surprised at the sudden action brought to the person in front of you and when the man who assaulted him continues, you swear you recognize the raven hair. You recognize the shirt too- it’s a black material with an intricate font on the collar area and your heart stops. “Jungkook,” You whisper, not believing your eyes. You’re fazed for a moment, before realizing that he was beating the living shit out of this man so your nimble fingers press on his shoulder, urging him to stop.

He does, and you both make your way out. There is a cut on the top of his cheek from where the man had landed a strong hit. Jungkook’s knuckles are split open from the impact brought about by skin meeting skin and your chest hurts seeing him in this state. How is it that even after what he’s done, you still want him? How is it that your heart calls out for him even if your mind is so against it?

Jungkook’s in pain. Not physically- that is incomparable to the sting he feels internally brought about by seeing your face again after days of not knowing your whereabouts. That has been the longest time you had gone without each other and when he sees that you don’t even know what to say at this point drives him insane. The tension can be cut with a knife as you walk to his car, and it only gets thicker once the two of you are in it.

His scent surrounds you and before you know it, you’re toying with the hem of your short dress, unable to speak. Jungkook refuses to drive, though, and instead he looks at you. You’re tugging at loose strands of cloth, fingers fiddling about and he can see your obvious discomfort. It only hurts him further to know that he’s the reason behind this, behind mutual pain.

Before you can speak, he starts.

“Y/N, what that snap didn’t get was how I pushed her away right after she kissed me.” He explains, hoping that you give him another chance. You continue to look down at your lap, so he continues.

“I don’t know who she was, I wasn’t in my right mind and when he started grinding on me, I thought she was you because I would touch anyone else or let anyone else do that to me. Only you, baby. Only you.”

“I know I love you. You know it too. I know there are moments where I fail to show you that and I know I screwed up but baby, believe me when I say I’m so unbelievably sorry. I would never do anything to hurt you because I love you.” He’s tearing up, words coming out in broken whispers.

“I always tell you what I can’t tell anyone else because I trust you more than myself. I tell you how you’re the only constant thing I see in my future in this ever-changing world and these days have been hell for me because for the first time, I had to picture my life without you in it. I was so damn scared and I can’t let you go, not without you knowing that you are the only one for me, that I didn’t kiss that girl back. I have to let you know that I am yours- from my mind to my soul, you have me wrapped around your finger.”

“Y/N, please. Please know how sorry I am, please say something.” He’s become more desperate now and you’re afraid to look up because if you see how beautiful and broken he looks, you might start crying. But it turns out you don’t even need to see him for water to prick at your eyes, threatening to spill.

When you blink, still fumbling, you finally speak up. “Nothing happened?”

It’s a whisper, one that would never be heard if not for the silence of his car, but it’s enough for Jungkook to reach over and clasp your cold palms in his bruised, warm ones. He responds right away, worried if he doesn’t speak, you’ll let go. “Nothing, baby, I swear. I would never ever cheat on you.”

“Do you promise?”

Your voice cracks and you look up at him for the first time, well aware of the tears on your cheeks.

Jungkook stops breathing, guilt overcoming his entire body because he’s the reason behind your pain- both of you are hurting but if he hadn’t gone to that fucking party, you’d still be in his arms right now.

“I swear upon it.” He whispers moving closer to you to hold you cheek in his palm. His thumbs wipe your tears away, pulling you in closer until your foreheads are touching. It’s dizzying to hold you like this; you are more intoxicating than any drink or any drug and he is addicted to you.

“I love you, okay?” You say, closing your eyes and breathing out. “I love you so much that it scares me. I know that there are so many prettier, smarter, hotter girls running after you and I thought you’d finally given in. I kept hoping that you’d stay mine and you’d proven that you would and that you will. I love you.”

“I’m yours just as much as you say you are mine, Jeon Jungkook. I hope that you know that.”

With those words, you close the gap between you two and connect your lips. Immediately, you can taste the mint he always pops in his mouth when he’s driving. Jungkook tastes the tequila you’ve previously consumed and he kisses you slowly.

You move over the center console to straddle his waist and he gladly lets you sit on his lap. It’s him who breaks the kiss to stare into your eyes before he mutters something almost inaudible. “Your eyes are the only ones I would ever fall for.”

These are the words he says before he places his hands on the sides of your hips possesively, not being able to stand knowing that another man had held you like this only mere minutes ago. He nudges your nose with his before he tilts his head and he places his lips back on yours.

You sigh in content, happy to feel his body so close to yours after sleeping alone for the past few nights. You weave your fingers through his hair and reciprocate before he sucks on your bottom lip for entrance.

You take it slow, his other hand trailing up your side to cup your cheek. Jungkook swipes his knuckles gently across the skin before biting lightly on your lip, causing you to gasp. You open your mouth and his tongue swipes against yours. Before you know it, you’re gripping on his shirt, hand balled into a fist as your crumple the fabric.

His strong thighs tense under you, and a low groan resonates from his throat when your tongues start massaging each other. He sucks slightly on yours, eliciting small sounds from you. Jungkook kisses you the way he knows he’ll drive you insane- sensually and slowly, holding you close and savoring your presence.

Your mouth moves south, and he breathes out. The moment Jungkook inhales, you latch your lips on his neck. You suck lightly on different parts, near his collarbone, below his jawline before you reach his adam’s apple and continue to leave marks. Jungkook sighs when you start sucking on his sweet spot, right below his left ear.

The boy in front of you throws his head back on the headrest, allowing you more space. Throaty growls escape from his lips as you continue pleasuring him. When you finally halt your movements, you’re sure that the mark will turn out purple after a few moments. You press chaste kisses on it before wetting it with your tongue, finally disconnecting from his neck.

“Baby, I missed you so much.”

-

Both you and Jungkook make your way back to your college one day after, and come Tuesday night you’re forced to book a hotel room because the traffic is simply unbearable. Both of you are drained from the long drives and you head to the room immediately, preparing to sleep for the night.

Jungkook isn’t exactly ready to let you fall asleep for the night yet though, despite the fact that it’s already nearing midnight. That night, he takes off your clothes slowly, taking in the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips.

Your breaths come out in pants, body calling out for him. Few days without him seemed like a really long expanse of time and as he places his large hands on your unclothed breasts, you happily relish in the feeling of familiarity.

It is during that time that Jungkook reciprocates the marks you had left on him the night before, nibbling slightly on the skin on your collarbones. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear before stripping down himself, not being able to handle the need he feels for you.

“Jungkook…” You call out, desperate for him to do something as he aligns his length in front of your entrance. “I need you.”

That’s all it takes for him to plunge his length into your warmth, your body causing him pleasure. He forces himself to take it slow. He grinds his cock into you, the natural curve of his length reaching deep within. “Mine,” he whispers, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Yours.” You reply, clasping at his back, desperate for something to hold onto to keep you grounded. His skin slaps against yours, hips hitting hips, bodies jutting forward in an attempt to feel more of each other. Jungkook’s sweat beads on his hairline and you let yourself sink down into the mattress only for your back to arch back up to meet Jungkook’s chest.

He wraps an arm around your waist to keep you in place so he can thrust into you harder and deeper and your body writhers underneath his touch, sparks where his fingertips press onto your skin. “Yours.” He breathes into your ear, pushing harder. Your high is building up quickly and your stomach knots, eager for release.

Jungkook places his fingers on your clit, rubbing the way he knows will stimulate you the most. “Mine.” You yell, screaming out his name as you come undone. Your body goes limp as he rides out your high while chasing his own, painting your walls in his own while liquid.

He pulls out moments later and both of you fall asleep, holding each other near.

-

When Jungkook wakes up the next morning, you aren’t beside him.

He panics as he runs his hands through the covers only to find that you aren’t there and he swear he worries because he’s reminded of how you left so abruptly only a few days ago. Jungkook gets up, naked and everything only to feel the cool breeze hit his skin, seeing that you’re leaning against the balcony.

The sun is rising and the clock in the room says that it’s just a little before six am. Your body is clad in a bathrobe, your hair loose and untamed. The wind blows your locks in all sorts of directions and he reaches for another robe inside the closet. He puts it on and joins you outside, not missing the way the sunlight hits your face at the most beautiful angle.

“Good morning, my love.” Jungkook greets, placing a long, meaningful kiss on your forehead. “Good morning, Jungkook,” You mumble lazily, wrapping your arms around his torso. He’s got you in a hugging position at that moment, and you never want to let go.

“What are you doing out here at this time?” He questions, and you feel the vibration of his lips against your skin. “I was thinking.”

“Hmm?”

“Of how much I love you.”

Jungkook can feel himself blush, heart fluttering at the unexpected answer he got. He smiles against your forehead, happily relishing in the moment you’re lucky enough to experience. By now, the sun is peeking through the clouds and is almost about to fully rise. “Y/N, marry me.”

His words catch you off guard and you look up at him, surprised. “What?”

“Maybe not now, maybe not until we figure out the rest of our lives,” He continues, holding your hand. “But one day, please,”

“Marry me.”

He doesn’t have to say anything else. You tiptoe slightly and bring your head up so your lips can meet his because already, you’ve got an answer.

“Yes, Jeon Jungkook,” You start, tears pricking your eyes.

Love has different ways of appearing in your life. It can be in the form of your parents who take care of you and prepare you for the world ahead of you since the moment you are born, it can be in the form of your best friends who listen to you when nobody else will, and it can be in the form of a raven-haired boy who shows you all the colors of the spectrum only to accentuate red- the color of his deep passion.

When the time is right, “I’ll marry you.”

and the epilogue is finally here. thank you so much to everyone who has read and supported this series, you are the reason why i was motivated to continue this even though it got hard at times. i hope you enjoyed this rather angsty ending and i hope you enjoyed the transition from how they were a high school couple to a college couple! i might write extra scenarios for this, so please send in asks and watch out for that. thank you so much for supporting stuck, my first ever tumblr series, and i hope you continue to read my work. thank you so much- thank you, thank you, thank you. 

[hey-hey-chan]

Supernatural!Hyunjin PT.2

Heyyyy... so i know I wasn’t going to do this... BUT I HIT 300 FOLLOWERS TODAY AND 3 IS MY FAV NUMBER SOOO! :) I couldn’t wait for 333 to drop this one :)

At first I was going to write about Jisung or Changbin cuz they’re the most popular, but I felt kinda bad cuz Hyunjin never ended up with y/n..

I hope you enjoy and this may be a lil short cuz I didn’t plan to write this and wanted to just give y’all a lil something :D

BTW this was worse than expected, i’m so sorry ; . ;

I laid in bed that night, contemplating what the wand meant and what this all meant for me and y/n. I was now in my pjs, knowing I was not going to get a blink of shuteye tonight from the active state I was just in. 

My heart was still pounding, from the wand stuff too. 

I kept thinking about how y/n looked at me and how she kept feeling me up while she thought I had broken bones. I groaned mentally. Ugh I need to stop, this is just bad. 

I shook my head, clearing my mind of weird thoughts and focusing in on the powers of the wand. It seemed to do nothing besides throw us back in the air, though it did more damage to me than y/n; she held onto the wand while I had to let go. And at that thought, I wondered if the wand actually affected her more than me. 

The next day, I was unsure what this whole disaster meant for me and y/n. I shook my head. Shut up, Hyunjin, she hates you, she thinks you’re lazy and just a pretty boy. Well, she’s not wrong- 

“Ugh!” I groaned, slamming my fist into my locker. 

“God, what’s wrong with you today? Actually everyday but today more than usual.” My friend, Seungmin had said. The shapeshifter was leaning against the wall, reading a book as usual. I sighed. 

“Nothing. Just not a lot of sleep.” Seungmin raised a brow, momentarily looking away from his book.

“Oh really? Just lack of sleep?” I nodded, and swallowed. I mean I wasn’t lying, technically. “So it’s nothing about y/n, just to be sure?” I immediately shushed him and looked around the halls for vampires or werewolves who had heightened hearing, thankfully the hall was too loud to hear anything. 

“What are you even talking about? I don’t like her pssh no!” I snorted, walking away quickly form Seungmin. He just trailed after me, not affected by my pace at all. 

“Yeah ok, I know a crush when I see one.” My mood grew dimmer when I realized what he meant. He had recently gotten himself a girlfriend, and a valkyrie at that. I can’t believe the shy nerd got himself a girlfriend before me. Me of all people. I sighed. This is why y/n doesn’t like me. 

“Whatever.” I mumbled, not in the mood to play games anymore. “She hates me.” I added. He sighed and shook his head.

“Hey now, anything could happen. I mean, one day girls can hate you, and then suddenly they like you. It’s quite fascinating at that.” 

Suddenly, as Seungmin said those words, I heard someone yell my name in a high pitched voice. 

“HYUNJIN OPPA!!!”

I heard... wait, is that y/n’s voice? I turned to look behind me, but before I could, I felt someone leap onto my back. “KYA!” I flinched at the sudden attack, but held the girl steadily in my arms. I sent a look of confusion and surprise at Seungmin while he was staring at me bug-eyed. Gosh, that guy can give advice one moment and then back out when it’s actually happening.

“Um, y/n? What are you doing?” I noticed all the stares we were getting in the hall and tried to hide what was happening. I gently set her on the ground and turned around to face her. 

But, once I saw her, she looked different. Her eyes looked somewhat glazed over, but still the same. It looked like she was set on me, and only me. Which made me somewhat happy, but a little scared. 

“Oppa, I seriously love you so much, I’m so sorry I’ve always been mean to you. I was wrong.” She ran into my arms and wrapped her arms around my torso which made me blush. 

I looked over to Seungmin, trying to give him signs of help, but he just looked as confused as I did. 

I let out a nervous laugh and slowly pulled away, trying to take in whatever phase she was in right now. I knew things would change since yesterday, but not by this much. 

“Um, y/n, what’s wrong and what’s up with this oppa and hugging stuff?” I questioned. She tilted her head like a child and laughed, a little too girly for my liking, and too creepy. 

“Huh? Don’t all guys like that? I know you do, you always have girls throwing themselves at you, and I’m so glad I finally realize that I love you too.” She smiled, but it didn’t feel genuine. I was honestly so lost at this point yet I felt my heart beating uncontrollably. 

How could this happen? Just yesterday she was acting all like she hated me and wanted me to leave. Now? She was acting like I was a prince or something. What happened to the y/n I knew who jumped away when I teased her and then came back to snap at me? What? 

Then, it hit me. 

“The wand.” I shook my head, angry at myself that I actually thought she was confessing to me. She looked confused and that’s when I got even angrier.

“What wand? The wand made me feel the best-” At those words, I took her hand and dragged her towards-not the office-but someone I knew who could help us. 

I pulled her to the head of spells and potions, Professor Jinyoung, the professor I idolized, but this was a serious matter. And there was no way I was going to tell the principal about how we broke curfew to investigate something that could’ve potentially been much more dangerous. 

I knocked on his office doors, since he didn’t have classes the rest of the day.

“Yes? Come in.” He said. I gulped and gained my courage before marching into his office with a girl who was clinging to my arm, and who, yesterday, was repulsed at touching me. 

“Um, Professor, I have a problem.” He looked up from his papers and saw y/n clinging on me, looking at me with googly eyes and trying to intertwine our fingers. I gently pried her fingers off and tried to avoid Prof. Jinyoung’s dropped jaw and wide eyes.

“Is that y/n? Meaning y/n who hates you?!” He whisper-shouted. I sighed.

“Does everyone know that? And yes! Help me please!” I said at the same volume. He sighed, rubbing his face. 

“Shut the door.” I did as he told.

“Hyunjin oppa, what is the scary professor going to do to me? I’m scared.” She whined, hiding her face in my chest. I couldn’t help but blush at the contact. Professor Jinyoung raised a brow but didn’t say anything at my red cheeks.

“Please tell me you haven’t gotten yourself caught up in a strong love spell.” He closed his eyes, probably praying. I smiled sheepishly and shrugged. He groaned.

“Ok, I know it looks bad but..” I sighed. “I can’t-”

“Yes you can and you must tell me so I can help you.” He crossed his arms, looking as intimidating as ever. I sighed.

“Ok, don’t get mad, but just one day, we kept hearing whispers, calling to us, the both of us. And one day a building just popped up at of nowhere and we found this found when we were investigating-”

“You guys disobeyed curfew? And went hunting for something you didn’t know-”

“I said it looks bad but the voice just kept calling and I needed to find it, we both did. And when we grabbed the wand, the power sent the both of us flying, but y/n got the heavier end of it.” I pointed to her. “And now this.” She was staring at me dreamily that I could almost laugh at her, but I felt bad that she was dealing with this. 

And she would kill me when she snapped out of it. 

“Ok, well, I need to go find some way to reverse the spell.” I nodded, but then realized his words.

“Wait, you don’t know how to reverse it!?” I almost shouted then calmed myself. He sighed and scratched his beard. 

“Hyunjin, this is some strong magic. Old magic is powerful and I’m not 100% sure this is only clean magic, there might be some dark in it. I think I know a spell to reverse it, but it needs to be taken with certain herbs to bring out the powers of the spell.” He stood up. 

“And to do this as fast as I can, I need to get going now. Please, you both just go home, love spells can make people crazy and I don’t want this to get out.” He grabbed his jacket while I sat, confused on what to do with y/n, who used to hate me and now was latched onto my shoulder.

“I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Y/n is one of my favorite students and it makes me sad to see her like this.” He shut the door, leaving me in shock and despair having to deal with this all day long.

Not that I hated her company, but the fact that she acted like she loved me when I knew she really didn’t. But I did. 

“Is he gone, oppa? The big scary guy?” I sighed. 

“Yes, he’s gone. Now let’s go back to my dorm.” I said, trying to move with her strength pinning me down. 

“Ok, I want to cuddle with you. You’ve always looked so cuddleable.” I gulped. Suddenly I realized I was bringing a girl to my dorms, and I felt nervous. 

“No cuddling, just talking. And watching movies, ok?” I stated to her, but more like for me. She pouted. 

For what seemed like forever, we finally made it to my dorm. I looked around and saw that my roommate, Mark, a warlock like me, wasn’t in the room. I sighed in relief. I had to call him though and make sure he didn’t come home and see the state y/n was in. 

“Hey what’s up?” Mark answered. I sighed, wondering how I was going to tell him. 

“Hey um-” 

“Hyunjin! Why are you calling other people when you’re with me?” Y/n whined, making my eyes bug out. I heard Mark laugh in reply. I blushed.

“Wow, the rumors were right, y/n really has the hots for you now? I can’t believe this is true.” I sighed, shaking my head. “You got lucky man.” Oh I wished that were true.

“Nah man, she got his with a love spell some girl put in her locker, now I have to take care of her.” Mark whistled softly.

“Ouch, so she doesn’t really like you?” My heart felt like it was being crushed.

“Nope, make sure that gets around. She’s gonna be super pissed when she gets out of this spell.” Mark shifted in his place.

“Definitely, I don’t want that girl to be mad at me. She’s hella scary. Now I gotta go, Haechan is mad I’m not paying attention to the movie.” I hung up and now decided on what to do with y/n. 

She laid down on my bed, covering herself with the blankets I wrapped around myself at night and she looked like she was ready to fall asleep at anytime. I ruffled my hair in frustration. 

“Ugh, what am I going to do?” I mumbled to myself at the dizzy girl sitting in front of me. 

“Usually when a girl gets in your bed, you’re supposed to get in with them.” She whispered like she was telling me a secret then laughed afterwards like she told me something super funny. I closed my eyes, pulling in all the willpower I had not to lay right next to her and wrap my arms around her. 

“Y/n, ok, you’re usually not like this, you usually hate me and you hate me for slacking off in our project we did together and I know the teacher got mad at you ‘cause for some reason, teachers like me, especially the female ones. And you hate that, and me, so much! Snap out of it!” She looked at me with clear eyes, not resonating with my words. She just smiled.

“You’re cute when you’re mad.” I groaned, leaning back in my chair. 

I had no idea how long I was supposed to be going with y/n torturing me like this. 

I looked up at y/n to see if she was still staring at me, but to my surprise, she was passed out. I sighed in relief. 

“Oh thank God.” 

Hours later, it became night time. I could hear the faint buzzing of my computer monitor and the slight snoring of y/n. 

Suddenly, I heard a voice whispering to me again; it was a faint voice that I knew from before. My heart started beating, not from anticipation, but from fear. 

“What the hell?” I exclaimed, while I heard a yawn from behind me. 

“Hyujinniee, sit down!” She tried pulling me down, but I was too distracted at the voice. The voice that pulled me everywhere and distracted me from getting anything done. Then, she looked at something behind me.

“Why do you have a wand in your room?” Her question made me jump and turn around. I gasped and my eyes bugged out. I screamed and actually jumped into the bed with her. She giggled and pulled me in closer, but I quickly got out of her grasp and went to grab the wand. 

“Use it, use it to fix the girl.” The wand said. At first, I wanted to grab that wand and throw it out the window, but now, I felt compelled to use it. 

“Do it, you know you can.” Before I knew it, I grasped the wand in my hand, feeling the power drag over my arms. I held in a cough and tried to grip the wand so it wouldn’t go out of control. 

“Say the words, you know them.” I felt my mind go numb and a voice unlike mine came out of my mouth and spoke foreign words in Latin. 

The wand was aimed straight at y/n and before I could process what was happening, power shot out of the wand and hit her straight in the chest. She gasped and fell to the bed. 

I threw the wand on the ground, snapping out of any trance I was in and rushed over to her. 

“Y/n!?” I shook her gently but then checked her pulse. I sighed in relief when I felt one. I sighed, laying my head on her arm, hoping she would wake up soon and be ok. 

“Please be ok, please be ok, tell me I haven’t killed anyone.” 

Soon, my prayers were answered when I felt someone grab my hair and throw me off the bed. 

“Ow-!” 

“HWANG HYUNJIN! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY-” She stopped yelling at me to take in her surroundings. “W-wait...” She trailed off, realization hitting her. I tried not to smile at her confusion and misery, but I couldn’t help it. 

“The real question is, y/n, is what are you doing in my bed?” I lifted a brow, trying to make her uncomfortable, but once she looked the slightest bit of embarrassed, she gasped. 

“What?”

“The wand!” She pointed, glaring at me. “Why do you have the wand, you said to leave it at the building that disappeared! You liar!” She tried to throw something at me, but I was having just a hard day as she as. 

“Y/n, please calm down and let me explain!” I yelled, subduing her a bit. She glanced nervously around the room and sighed.

“Fine.” She choked out while I was thankful she didn’t grab at me again.

“Ok, so the wand from yesterday, you’re the only one that held onto it, right? And this morning and all day actually, you were clinging onto me for dear life because turns out, the wand actually put a spell on you to fall in love with me. And we were supposed to wait until Professor Jinyoung came back with a special mixture or something to fix you, but this wand just took over my mind and made me turn you back itself. And you are in my bed because you crawled in there yourself and tried to snuggle me.” I gave her a smug grin. 

She sat there in pure silence; I could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. But I didn’t expect her to groan so loud and lay back down.

“A love spell?? With you?!” She groaned, whispering to herself “why me.” I admit, I felt my heart break a little bit, but I knew she didn’t like me. I didn’t know why I got my hopes up. 

“Yeah, but you’re fixed now and don’t worry, the whole school still knows you hate me and that you were struck by a love spell, but don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone but Prof. Jinyoung about the wand, everyone thinks some bratty girl pulled a dumb trick on you.” I finished bitterly, suddenly feeling like throwing something against a wall. 

She sat there, quietly again. Something she usually isn’t. 

“Are you going to leave now?” I asked her sternly, not understanding why I was so mad all of a sudden, I just felt like lashing out at whoever was in front of me, and this girl made me soft. 

She scoffed.

“Why are you yelling at me? I was under a spell all day!” She defended, getting out of my bed. I felt my blood boil and my head spin with those words.

“Exactly! Because you were under a spell all day and nothing you said to me meant anything! You don’t care about me, like me or anything, you actually think the opposite of that; you despise me and think I’m some arrogant pretty boy. And what hurts the most is I wanted it to be true.” I covered my mouth at the words I blurted. 

“What is happening to me?” I whispered. Somehow, I think I gained courage from the wand. Soon her eyebrows furrowed and she focused on the wand behind me.

“Did it put you under a love spell too, shit Hyunjin, this stuff is dangerous, I can’t believe you would-”

“No.” I said. She took a step back. 

“What?”

“No, I’m not under a love spell or whatever, I’m serious, more serious than I’ve ever been in my life.”

“That’s not much-”

“Shut up, ok? I’m going to try and be romantic now.” She scoffed, but I could see a blush creep in on her cheeks. 

“Hyunjin-” I softly quieted her by taking a step closer.

“I meant all those words y/n and I know I’m getting mad at you, but really I’m made at myself for believing your words and somewhat enjoying your close proximity, but I want more now. I want the real you, I want you to like me for who I really am. And I want you to know that I love you for who you really are.” I whispered those last few sentences, getting closer to her, closer than I’ve ever been before. 

I bent down to her level and inched my lips closer. I saw her lick her lips which got me excited to just capture her lips. 

“Is this ok?” I mumbled, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable, but once I felt her slowly about to bob her head, I heard a knock on the door. We quickly jumped apart, breaking the mood.

I growled and flung it open. 

“What?!” I yelled, but quickly apologized once I saw my professor. “Oh, um, hi Professor Jinyoung. Um...” I trailed off once he entered the room.

He raised a brow when y/n waved to him, smiling widely as she usually does. 

“She’s better now.” He stated. I nodded and then frowned.

“Oh yea, um sorry about that um...” I scratched the back of my neck, feeling awkward talking to my teacher when I still felt chills from y/n’s lips being so close to mine. He then crossed his arms.

“It’s fine, but was I interrupting something?” I turned red and looked at the ground. I heard y/n cough too. 

“Um, I’ll be going now. See you tomorrow Hyunjin!” She called out, scurrying past the both of us. Then, I realized her words and smiled widely.

“Did she just say she was going to see me tomorrow? YES!” I said pumping my fists in the air. I heard my professor but I didn’t care. I finally had a chance with the girl who I thought hated me.

“Sigh, young love. We’ve all been there.”

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Revenge (extended edition)

So I’m sorry it got way longer than expected. You don’t have to publish it if you think it’s bad :)

(Warning: 18+ language.)

Revenge

Honestly, Agni’s always felt like he’s not really good enough for you. It’s nothing you or anyone else did; it’s just that he thinks you’re pretty much the most amazing person in the world, too amazing, and he… doesn’t think that he’s good enough for someone who’s the most amazing person in the world.

You’re the proclaimed “ genius-billionaire-philanthropist-player”. You had your first Ph.D at 14. You cured three type of cancer, one of which was how you two met- because your cure saved him. You made your fortune in tech - “real life Tony Stark” was on your Time magazine “Person of the Year” cover headline. You negotiated a peace between the two Koreas. You cured AIDS! For goodness sake. Peoples may have their opinions about how you seem to be, but your fuck-all attitude is so impressive, the Kardashian pays to go to your parties that were hosted without you ever showing up.

But him? He’s nothing.

No wealth, no fancy degree, no family worth speaking of - other than Soma. He’s just a kindergarten teacher for a private school where the tuition per year is almost more than his own salary. You saved his life, the reason why he’s not six-feet under but towering over most people at six feet five inches.

“Palpable eye-candy.”

“He’s exotic, we’ll give him that.”

“A kindergarten teach? Fo’real? That’s what The She IRL Tony Stark is into. Damn. I’m better than that and I can’t even find a date.”

“Pfft. probs keep that blond mop-head as a philanthropy trophy.”

“I wonder if he’s actually a pedo? Or a tranny, no real man is that pathetic.”

“Ay’yo ma, kill urself so I get a chance aye?”

“What do you call a male gold digger? A man whore?”

“Man-whore, man-slut. Whatev.”

And so on.

He hides these tweets, comments, gossips - whatever they are from you. Good thing that despite being the Tech magnate, you don’t care much for social media, other than what the trending memes is.

Until one day when he couldn’t. Even from all the loves and hugs and smiles he’s receive each day at school from his wonderful students.

“They’re funny!”

You insisted with a mouth full of strawberry starburst. It’s hard to imagine that the woman who brings fear on a world-stage level is his wife. Wearing long ebony hair in a messy bun, buried oversized sweater (previously his) stained with BBQ sauce, lounging around on the sofas, munching on chips, and cackling at memes he can’t understand, it’s hard to believe you’re the same person that walked out the door with butlers and guards trailing behind you.

That said, it’s moment like this that reminds him of how much in love with you he is - and the shame bubbles from inside him, clawing at his throat, threatening to spill over. The same feeling he’s been having since the media caught wind of the fact that you two are married.

He sat down behind you, surprising you with a hug. He figured that if he buried his face in your back long enough, he’ll regain enough composure to stop himself from crying from the sheer cruelty of people he’d never meet.

(You’re not surprised when he hugs you of course, he’s always been the more affectionate one. Correction, he’s the epitome of affection, love, goodness, and anything that’s GOOD^tm.)

(While you are, in short, an emotionless, semi-borderline psychopathic asshole and mostly an impatient bitch. If it wasn’t for Agni, you would’ve just blew North Korea off the maps with their own nuclear arsenal instead of spending months of planning with the joint forces of the South Korean government, the USA, and U.N forces.)

(You never once stop complaining during this time. And it was the God of Patience, personified as Agni, the only person who could manage to calm you down every time you’d wake up in the middle of the night, rambling about how much faster it would be to “Just. Bomb. The. Shit. Out. Of. Those. Commie.”)

(You still can’t understand why to this day, Agni refuses to accept his critical role in your so-called “peace negotiation” of the Koreas”.)

“What’s wrong?” You asks nonchalantly as you scrolls through your thousandth meme for the day. It’s one your way of keep yourself sane - the main way being Agni, obv.

“It’s nothing. Just work, nothing you should worry about.” He answers, resting his face on your shoulder, “but also, you promised me you’d drink less.”

“I did. I’ve only got two beers and half a bottle of mini-Jack Danny today.” You bit into a chip. Something’s off. He doesn’t usually brings up your shitty alcoholic habit unless it’s seriously too much, or if he’s deflecting.

“Uh, sure you did. I can still smell it on your breath.” He replies in a disappointed voice, his Teacher’s voice. The one he knew that you hate. Or at the most, mildly dislike. It is an impossibility to hate him.

“Whatever. Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know? Grading some kiddie finger painting or something?” You snaps back in a bored voice, , expecting him to muzzle you with your bowl of chips in return.

Instead, Agni pulls away, you turn back and his eyes are just spilling with hot tears.

You froze, unsure of what to do. Your computer like mind immediately rewind itself and methodically sort itself to all events within the past 72 hours to see where you might’ve gone wrong to make him cry.

“Why did you marry me?” He asks softly, refusing to meet your eyes. He withdrawn himself away from you, tucking his normally large body into the corner of the sofa, his fingers tugging at the hand-casted gold ring, “I..I was never good enough to deserve you.”

“Whoa. Um. Where exactly is this coming from? Who the fuck told you something like this?” Your eyes narrow dangerously. Agni wouldn’t just break down like this. You’ve been married for two years to him, and the news has only broken six-months ago. You’ve made sure to silence the press so that Agni can transition smoothly - apparently you fucked up somewhere along the line.

“What? No. I mean it. I’m serious. Between you and me. I’m nothing. I’m not even as great as Pepper Potts, and she’s Iron Man girlfriend.” He rambles on, his face still streaks with tears, “I’m just a teacher for a bunch of little kids who’re lucky enough to be born into wealthy families. They’re the best kids. I just.. I don’t know. Im not a professor for a prestigious college like Sebastian. I’m not the heir to a title like the Phantomhives twin. I’m not brilliant in any way comparable to Sieglinde. I’m..im..nothing.”

You stares at him. Wordless after hearing the words that came out of his mouth. A strange rage that you haven’t felt in a long time bubbles up inside your gut.

You haven’t felt rage in a long time because you have him.

A familiar desire to kill something uncoils itself from years in hibernation. You haven’t desire to kill in so long because he was next to you.

All that was bad and evil and rotten within your are locked away because he is the sun of your life.

The light of your days. The guidance in your path. The reason you haven’t drank yourself to death or overdosed on some concoction of drugs.

And here he is.

The most beautiful and perfect existence in this damn planet. Saying all these bullshit about himself. The audacity to believe his own words.

Someone will pay for this. You seethes. “Who? Tell me who.” You calmly asks as you yank him towards you for a tight hug. You’re stronger than he is after all.

“No one. But it’s true, isn’t it. You know that it’s true.” He hiccups, resisting your hug. You can feel the heat from his baseless shame radiating.

“All right. Don’t tell me.” You clicks your tongue.

“Tanaka! Show me all of recent Tweeter, Facebook, Instagram, and others relates to Agni in anyway.” You yells into thin air, moments later, the house AI, Tanaka, responded with all of what Agni has been trying to hide from you.

“Why? What?! No! No please. Stop it! Tanaka stop!.” Agni’s head perks up, frantically waving for the AI to shut up to no avail.

You skim through the flashing holograms, your blood boils at the comments, and tweets, and re-tweets and all the shits you’ve always been too busy to care about.

If these had been directed at you, you couldn’t give less of a shit. But no, they target the only thing, the only person you hold dear above all else. This calls for war.

And you’re very good at war.

Agni sees that flash of cruelty in you, the one where you beat a man twice his size to death because that man dared to kidnapped him. The one where you casually placed a bullet in the head of a former dictator in front of her rogue son. There’s a darkness in you. So dark and cold and cruel that he can’t believe he’d forgotten it still exists.

He begs you to reconsider, and try his best to muffle the black fire he can see is growing. The way your eyes darken. The way your nostrils flares. It terrifies him.

And so he begs you to calm down. To not let your anger gets to you. Try as you might, your sole vulnerability remains to be his puppy-dog sparkling eyes.

So tou calm down. You tell him him that it’s ok, you won’t do anything. If it’s all right, you’ll just block all of these nasty comments from his social media’s. Better yet, you suggest that he go on a “detox”. No more social media for him, none whatsoever. For a whole month until this all dies down.

Agni agrees feverishly. He apologizes for making you worry - something which still slightly pissed you off when he apologize for anything. You carried him to bed, he blushes, you made gentle love to him.

And when your beautiful Sun is fast asleep with his silky white hair resting on your top-grade silk pillowcase and his beautiful body cozied under your thick Turkish fiber blanket. You kisses his him gently and leave the room.

And you wage war.

You tracked down every single IP address of every single nasty commenters and tweeters and posts and retweets to their live owner. You made a list.

You commandeer their bank account, their stocks, their saving, their livelihood. Everything that are of value to them.

And you burned it all.

Temporarily of course. Agni would be devastated if he ever finds out what you’ve done.

You decided to let these fuckers suffer for a whole week, maybe a little more the worst of offender.

When you’re satisfied with all your doing, you return to your bedroom, where the light of your existence remains fast asleep.

He has the cutest snore

You smile as you snuggle next to him.

[childrenofhypnos]

Chapter 4: Sandman

“Pick up your feet, Ashworth!”

“I’m half a lap ahead of everyone else, Marcia! My feet are up.”

“That’s Professor Montgomery!”

“You’re only three years older than us!”

“Practically an old lady, and I’d still run faster than you.”

Marcia Montgomery, weapons expert, annoyed Emery on good days and made her homicidal on bad ones. Marcia had planted herself at the center of the gym, burly and tall as an Amazon, to watch the students run laps. Her orange hair shone bright beneath the gym lights.

Emery rounded the turn of the track and looked back. The rest of the class labored on behind her. None of them were slower than her, they just paced themselves in the beginning while Emery sprinted ahead. Wes floated in the middle of the pack, absolutely invisible unless she was looking for him.

Average. He was so average. He had the frame and muscle to support both speed and strength, so Emery wasn’t sure if he hadn’t realized it yet or if he just didn’t know how to make his body work the way it should.

They finished the lap. Marcia barked, “No resting! Weapons out, five more laps! I’m tacking on three every time someone slouches!”

The group rippled silver and gold as dreamform weapons appeared from pockets and pieces of jewelry. Swords, knives, whips, bows. Emery pulled her Peacemakers from her bracelet and they grew to their full size. She looked back again after the next corner. A bubble had formed around Wes to make room for his war hammer.

The thing was honestly the most ridiculous weapon Emery had ever seen. The head of it, a blunt smashing face on both sides, was as big as Wes’s chest. Had it been a real weapon, it wouldn’t have stayed in one piece, much less been weighted correctly.

Their dreamform weapons were supposed to come from a subconscious place, the type of weapon chosen from some deep well of human history inside them. At fifteen, forming their weapons for the first time, it was a game to see if they could guess from what time and place the weapon had originated. Emery’s had been easy: late 1800s America, maybe the most contemporary weapons formed by a dreamhunter.

Wes’s though…the only conclusion their classmates could come to about that hammer was “compromising for something.”

Marcia yelled, “Everyone get on pace with their partner for the last two laps, or it’s ten more for everyone!”

A groan erupted behind Emery. She glanced over her shoulder to meet Wes’s eye without slowing down. Frustration flickered in his face, and anger in everyone else’s. Wes gripped the hammer in both hands and shouldered his way to the front of the group, then sprinted to catch up with Emery. The hammer shouldn’t have been much of an issue, since they’d been trained to alter weapon weight the same as weapon size, but Marcia had crushed them into the ground with the morning’s workout, and the run was the last stretch before the end of class.

Wes reached Emery and slowed to her pace. Sweat dripped from his hair.

“Way to be a team player, Ashworth,” Marcia sniped. Emery ignored her.

“Don’t collapse,” Emery said to Wes.

“I might collapse, but at least I didn’t run ahead to make myself look better than everyone else,” he replied between breaths.

Emery’s nose prickled. “Have they given us a new assignment yet?”

“It’s only been three days since the last one, and we were just assigned partners. They’re not going to load us up with missions right away.”

“I’m sure Terms and Recs has plenty. I’ll ask.”

He glared at her. “Stop trying to get rid of me.”

“Stop making it so tempting.”

Marcia’s glare drilled into Emery’s side for the rest of the period, until Marcia dismissed them with a look of disgust, despite that they’d all completed her workout to perfection. Then, when they didn’t get out of the gym fast enough, she threatened them with a hundred suicides during their weapons training later that day.

Emery waited until the other girls had cycled through the locker room before she took her shower. The few there still gave her looks as she passed through. They were fleeting glances, not meant as accusatory but coming off like that anyway, and Emery ran through her usual list of wonderings if they hated her, or resented her, or just wanted her gone.

Poor Emery, top of the class, superstar parents and granddaughter of the dean, guaranteed to pass her Insanity Prime.

They didn’t have to say it. She didn’t blame them; she’d hate her, too, if she was in their position.

She took her shower and walked across the quad with her hair coiled in a towel. The Crossing buzzed with day division students recently woken up for breakfast, and Emery slipped in with the crowd to climb to the cozy second-floor balcony that looked down on the atrium food court. Doors to the student council offices lined the wall opposite the railing, marked beginning at XV and ending at XX. A council for every grade of weapon-wielding dreamhunters, fifteen to twenty.

Emery pushed her way through door XVIII. Inside, dusy paintings of old Ward members lined the walls, velvet curtains draped from the tall window, and a stout round table sat in the center of the room, decorated today by a very explicit ice carving of Fabian Fenhallow and a dolphin.

Emery jarred to a halt. “What the hell is that.”

Three heads popped up around the table. The first was Emery’s boyfriend, Joel Cullweather: bright-eyed, dimple-cheeked, a smile lighting his face as soon as he saw her. The second, Lewis Kowalski, was looking familiarly disgruntled, still wearing a backpack loaded with pins that said things like Fenhallow Theatre Society and Ask me about my accents. And the third, the bushy-tailed to Joel’s bright-eyed, was Kris Arevalo, who was small and round and always smelled like a mixture of chemicals from the research labs and some kind of lemon body spray.

“Isn’t it great?” Joel leaped to his full height, spreading his arms toward the sculpture. “Yael in the kitchens is an ice sculptor! She made this for me.”

“But why?”

“He asked for it.” Lewis rocked back onto the carpet instead of standing. “Please tell him to get rid of it.”

“I think it’s…um…charming.” Kris stood next to Joel, wearing a look of apprehensive support.

“Why a dolphin?” Emery asked.

“I thought the Fenhallows were into dolphins,” Joel said. “Jacqueline talks about them all the time.”

“I think Jacqueline is into dolphins, Jojo. And not…like that.” Emery pulled the towel out of her hair and tossed it over the back of the nearest chair, then examined the sculpture from another angle while she fluffed out her roots. “Speaking of Jacqueline, she’s going to be pissed when she sees this. What’s it for?”

“I want to mount it on top of the atrium fountain. No warning, no explanation.” Joel’s smile was radiant.

“A prank.”

“Yes.”

“And when, exactly, do you plan on mounting it?”

“No idea. Suggestions?”

Lewis grumbled something that sounded like Hypnos’s balls. Kris kept smiling, but passed a quick hand over her eyes when the smile turned hysterical. The sculpture was dripping.

“Three AM,” Emery said. “When they lock the food court for an hour for morning prep.”

Joel beamed.

The door behind Emery swung open. Jacqueline Fenhallow strode in, her phone pressed to her ear.

“No, I told him if he put his name down on the project, I was going straight to Professor Min to—” Jacqueline’s gaze landed on the sculpture. She paused mid-stride and mid-word, mouth gaping open. “Ver, I have to call you back.”

She snapped her thumb down on her phone screen.

The string of expletives that left her mouth had even Emery’s ears burning.

“In what world is this okay? Who did this? Joel? Emery?”

“You really think I did this, Jackie?” Emery spat, falling into a chair. Lewis shot her a look like, You didn’t start it, but you were definitely helping Joel make it worse.

Jacqueline’s lip curled in signature Jacqueline disgust. Emery admired that lip curl—it was an art form. “I shouldn’t be surprised. No one here respects the Fenhallows anymore anyway. It’s not like the school is named after us, or anything.”

Jacqueline took the seat next to Emery with a scoff, looking anywhere but at the sculpture. Emery motioned to Joel, who hustled to move the sculpture to a table in the corner. Then he, Kris, and Lewis joined them at the table.

Once a week, the class eighteen student council met during their free periods to go over student council business. The five of them had been their student council since they were fifteen, reelected over the years for various reasons. Jacqueline, Kris, and Lewis actually did a good job and campaigned well; Joel and Jacqueline were both among the popular elite of Fenhallow’s day class; and for Emery, being constantly reelected student council president was a bit of a joke among her night division classmates. The more unpopular she became, the funnier the joke was.

Emery was the only dreamhunter among them, so for them, the politics of the night division students was just gossip.

Jacqueline pulled a neat purple planner and sleek purple pen from her bag and scooted her chair up tight to the table. She flipped her straight black hair over her shoulder and primly cleared her throat.

“Why aren’t you the president, Jackie?” Emery asked, slinging her legs over the arm of her chair. “You’re so prepared.”

Jacqueline picked through the pages of her planner, carefully keeping her head up and her eyes down. “Because the people wanted you, Queen Emery. God forbid we have a non-dreamhunter student council president.”

“It’s really not that bad—” Kris began.

Both Emery and Jacqueline silenced her with stares.

The truth was, at fifteen years old, Emery was the only dreamhunter student to run for a position on her class’s student council, and the dreamhunter students didn’t dislike her enough at the time to suffer a council without one of their own representing.

“Can we start?” Lewis said.

Emery met Joel’s gaze across the table. He was watching her, his gaze attentive but not worried. He smiled a little, shook his head. They both knew that when Jacqueline said Queen Emery, she meant it with affection. They’d been friends for too long for it to mean anything else.

“First order of business.” Jacqueline marked something in her planner and turned curtly to Emery. “You get that hot piece of meat Jager as a partner and you want to give him up?”

Emery choked. “Since when are you interested in men?”

“Since never, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate.”

“And since when does being partners with someone mean I want to do with them—whatever Fabian is doing with that dolphin? Also thank you for implying in front of my boyfriend that I want to sleep with another guy.”

“I dunno, Em,” Joel said, “if you wanna do a polyamorous sort of thing…”

“That sounds great, Jojo, but I am not interested in Wes.”

“Well, I thought we were going to do actual business this morning,” Lewis said, reaching into his backpack for his homework. “How naive I am.”

“So did I!” Emery cried. “Why does everyone want to talk about this? I went on one mission without him, and everyone’s acting like it’s the most INTERESTING NEWS EVER.”

“That whale was pretty big,” Kris said. “And I saw Ridley Jager earlier today. She told me to tell you to watch your back.”

“Ridley—now Ridley Jager is threatening me? Because I stiffed her brother? She’s a pipe cleaner with arms, and she’s nicer than you, Kris. What’s she going to do, beat me with her smile?”

“I also have it on good authority that your downswing in popularity among the night division has caused an upswing for Wes.” Jacqueline’s straight, neat eyebrows rose. “He’s being invited to parties.”

“Who told you that? Veronica?”

Jacqueline shrugged.

“Okay, let’s get some things straight.” Emery held up her hand, one finger raised. “One: I am not interested in Wesley Jager.” Another finger. “Two: I never will be. Three: Any rumors you hear are false and not to be believed.”

“So you didn’t get flattened to a roof by nightmare whale vomit?” Lewis said.

“I’m gonna stuff that notebook down your throat, Lewis,” Emery replied. “Four: I only have to be his partner for another month, so if we could get through that time without any more questions, I would really appreciate it.”

Jacqueline rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever. I’m just saying, it’s a way more interesting topic than the Ward Review.”

Lewis shoved his notebook away. “Yes! Real work!”

“The review isn’t for like three weeks.” Joel sank into his chair until his long legs straddled the center column of the table. He tapped his shoe against Emery’s ankle. “What do we even have to do? Decorate the student center? Play a little song when the rep comes in?” He did a jig in his chair. “Oh please Mr. Representative, don’t close down our schoooooool…”

Emery snorted.

“No one’s closing down Fenhallow,” Jacqueline said. “And don’t act like we haven’t gone through this before. Class Eighteen’s job is to make sure the campus is informed that the representative is visiting so that we project the best image possible—Emery, care to stop buzzing?”

Emery’s phone vibrated against her leg. She’d planned to ignore it, but at Jacqueline’s stare she finally glanced at the screen.

“Huh. It’s my grandpa.”

“What’s he calling you for in the middle of the day?” Joel asked.

“No idea.” The call ended before Emery could answer. A moment later, Grandpa Al sent a text.

“‘Meet in my office as soon as possible,’” Emery read. She stood and reached for her bag. “He never texts me.”

“We just started,” Lewis said.

“Sorry—send me notes or something. We should meet again later this week. Dinner! Let’s get dinner on Thursday. Cool? Cool.”

“I hope everything’s okay!” Kris called as Emery hurried out the door, at the same time Jacqueline said, “Effing Ashworths.”

~

Emery spotted Wes heading toward the front doors of the administration building as she strode past the statues of Fabian Fenhallow—clothed and dolphinless—and Iltani. Wes came from the other direction, and he saw her when they reached the bottom of the admin building steps at the same time.

His face fell. Emery started up the steps two at a time. Wes picked up the pace bethind her. Emery reached the first landing and pushed herself faster.

“Are you serious?” Wes hissed.

Emery reached the front doors first. She pulled one open, and Wes’s hand caught it over her head, holding it while she ducked inside.

“Hi, David!” Emery darted past the receptionist with Wes on her heels. David watched them pass with a nonplussed look. They raced up the stairs and down the second-floor hallway, walking as fast as they could without running, Wes’s hands clenched at his sides, Emery’s damp hair swishing behind her.

She stopped just before the dean’s door so that Wes was the one who grabbed the handle and tore it open. He froze, framed in the doorway with an angry red face, and looked over at Emery.

“You are a child,” he muttered.

Emery smiled and slipped into the room past him.

Inside, Grandpa Al stood at the window behind his desk, wearing a smart tweed suit and tie. The only other person there was Marcia, her wild hair clipped back and her arms bare despite the chill in the weather. She looked at them with a fierceness that sent a shiver down Emery’s spine, worsened by the fact that Emery rarely found herself put off by Marcia’s looks, especially after a morning of Marcia running the students into the ground.

“Is this about class today?” Emery said. “Because I didn’t do anything—”

Grandpa Al turned from the window. “No, it’s not about class, Em. Wes, sit—would you like some tea? Marcia chose a nice Oolong.”

Marcia’s teacup sat, steaming and untouched, on top of the bureau beside her.

Wes sank into one of the chairs before the desk. “No, thank you.”

“Do you have any of the Krasnodar left?” Emery stretched over the desk to peer through the glass-front cabinet by the window, at the many assorted tea packets and containers inside.

“I’m afraid you finished it off last month, and your mother hasn’t been back to bring more.”

“Well, never mind then.”

Wes’s cheeks slowly returned to their normal color. “If this isn’t about class, then why is Marcia here?”

“Professor Montgomery,” Marcia grumbled, side-eyeing him.

“Well.” Grandpa Al clapped his hands together. “I have a mission for the two of you.”

Emery lowered herself into the second chair. “A mission? Why didn’t it come through Terms and Recs?”

“It didn’t come through Terminations and Request Fulfillments because this isn’t a nightmare hunt or a checkup. This is something I’m hoping the two of you will be uniquely equipped to handle. I called Professor Montgomery in because I wanted her report on your progress in class. She agrees with me that a…remedial lesson might be what we need to get the two of you on the same page.”

Emery narrowed her eyes. “You just said two different things. Is it a special mission only the two of us can handle, or is it a remedial lesson because we don’t work well together?”

“Both,” Marcia growled.

“Why are you so angry?” Emery asked.

“I’m always angry.” Marcia grabbed her teacup, downed it in one quick swig, and set it atop the bureau before marching out of the room. Emery and Wes watched her go, then glanced at each other.

“Do you know what that was about?” Emery said.

Wes shrugged.

“So.” Grandpa Al settled behind his desk and wrapped his long fingers appreciatively around his own steaming teacup. “As I said, this isn’t a hunt for nightmares. This is a search. For a person. Another hunter, actually.”

The clock ticked on the wall.

“We’re hunting a dreamhunter?” Wes said.

“You’re searching for a dreamhunter,” said Grandpa Al. “We have reason to believe he’s here, in the Sleeping City. If you do find him, under no circumstances are you to engage him. If you find him, you are to report your location and circumstances immediately and vacate the area. Searching for him isn’t dangerous per se, but we are going to leave his confrontation to our full-time dreamhunters.”

“So who is he?” Emery said. “Why aren’t full-time crews already looking for him?”

“They are. Which is why I’m not worried about you two joining them. I hope you might be able to see something they might miss. This is an ongoing night mission. After your classes, you’ll be expected to enter the city and follow any leads you might find.”

Wes looked hesitant. “You still haven’t said who he is.”

Grandpa Al sipped at his tea. “We’re calling him ‘the Sandman.’”

Emery snorted. “The guy who throws dust in your face and makes you go to sleep?”

“There’s a bit more to the story of the Sandman than that, but he’s along those lines, yes. He went rogue several years ago and disappeared, but he was trained here at Fenhallow. That’s a large part of the reason we need to find him. We believe he is tampering with the Dream in relation to the citizens of the Sleeping City, causing trouble that could raise the rate of escaped nightmares exponentially.”

“Why are we only hearing about him now?” Emery asked. “That’s not a small thing—shouldn’t the whole school know? As the ones who’ll have to fight those nightmares if it does happen?”

“It hasn’t happened yet, Em,” Grandpa Al said calmly, “and we’d like to keep everyone from panicking while we remedy the situation. If it comes to a point where the administration believes the school needs to be involved, the campus will be informed.”

“Dangerous rogue dreamhunter, possible nightmare parade through the city, can’t tell anyone…sounds fun. So what does this guy look like? How are we supposed to find him?”

“You won’t catch him walking along the street in broad daylight. Even with a disguise, he wouldn’t risk anyone who knows him seeing him out and about. He’s a skilled hunter, but he radiates the Dream the same way an escaped nightmare does. That part of himself he can’t disguise, not the way a dreamkiller can. As for how you find him, that’s part of your mission. Let’s see how resourceful you can be.” He cleared his throat. “Both of you. Together.”

“We get it, Grandpa.”

“You have today to prepare. Tomorrow night, I expect you on the streets. This has already been filed in your mission logs, so don’t worry about the paperwork.” Grandpa Al smiled over his teacup. “You can return to your schedules.”

They got up to leave.

“Don’t forget,” Grandpa Al said, going back to his paperwork, “he’s not a nightmare. He’s not a dreamkiller, either. If he were either of those things, he wouldn’t be as much of a problem as he is.”

“A dreamkiller would be less of a problem than a dreamhunter?” Emery stopped with her hand on the door handle. “How? Dreamhunters aren’t as strong.”

“No, they aren’t. Not before their Insanity Primes.” Grandpa Al glanced up at them over the rims of his glasses. “But a dreamkiller has stability. A dreamhunter cresting into their Prime does not.”

(Next time on The Children of Hypnos —> Stumbling Into A B-Horror Movie Plot)

[avecorviidae]

Fic: Aubade - Chapter Nine

Fandom: Mob Psycho 100 Rating: M Relationship(s): Kageyama Ritsu/Suzuki Shou Word Count: 3151

Ao3 Link

Ritsu’s lit. analysis class is at eight in the morning because he hates himself, and Shou is still awake at six in the morning because he is, presumably, a masochist, so it’s a happy happenstance that they manage to have breakfast together on the first day of classes.

He’s slumped on the sofa with his terrible, awful, bland granola flake cereal, making an unpleasant face and thinking unpleasant thoughts, because it’s really best to get his morning sulk in before he leaves the house. Better for appearances, anyways; it’s going to be a long day – long semester – of smiling, introducing, chattering, ingratiating, appeasing, socializing.

Shou wanders into the living room with a bowl of some colorful cereal Ritsu hasn’t had since he was six, and says, “Someone piss in your bran flakes?”

“Your face pissed in my bran flakes,” He mumbles, because it is six in the morning, and Ritsu is not legally awake yet.

“There’s nothing you can prove!” Shou replies cheerfully, plopping down next to him. Ritsu’s cereal sloshes around sadly in its bowl. Ritsu hates it, deeply. Why does he buy healthy cereal? Why does he do this to himself? Was it to spite Shou’s bad nutritional choices? To make some psychological ideal of his mother proud? Was it a manifestation of his profound and extended period of self-loathing? All of the above?

“Ah, it won’t be that bad,” Shou offers, with a commiserating smile that is entirely false and betrayed by the sadistic glee in his eyes.

Ritsu grouses, “I have to pretend to be people. All day.”  The cashmere sweater is making a reprise today, pushed up to the elbows, paired with khaki slacks – for fuck’s sake, khaki slacks. Next to Shou, decked out resplendently in ratty boxers and a faded anime t-shirt, Ritsu feels like a show pony. A sweaty, grumpy show pony.

He manages, though. He always manages. Shou sends him off at the door with a surprisingly genuine, “Good luck, don’t kill anybody,” and then the week’s started, and it all blurs together. Sit down center-left in lectures, phone away, planner out. Polite eye contact with professors, nodding and smiling, quiet laughter at bad jokes. Ask a relevant question about the syllabus, then shut up. Agreeable but not obnoxious. Complimentary but not kiss-ass. Figure out who’s going to be a battle and who’s going to turn into a letter of recommendation.

It’s normal.

It’s exhausting.

-

“What classes do you have tomorrow?” Shou asks, snapping Ritsu out of a daze. He looks up from the book in his lap, notices he’s left his fork dangling halfway between the bowl and his mouth, and shoves a bite into his mouth. Carbonara tonight, apparently not traditional to the true Italian dish since it’s got garlic, and bacon instead of pancetta or guanciale, but it’s fucking delicious, so Ritsu’s not complaining.

“Uh...” he has to think for a moment, try and remember what day it is. “Lit. analysis in the morning, psych in the afternoon.”

Shou frowns, pouting comically. He’s sat cross-legged on the floor, bowl in his lap, close enough to the new TV that Ritsu wants to channel his mother and warn him about his eyes. “Aw, you never come back for lunch when you’ve got stuff in the afternoon.”

Ritsu shrugs. “It’s just easier to stay on campus than catch a bus there and back again. Besides, I’m usually busy between classes.” God, is he busy. Meetings with advisors, meetings with study groups, meetings for group projects, tutors and guest lectures and events, it’s a fucking nightmare. He scrubs a hand over his face, sighing. He’s only a few weeks in, it shouldn’t be this bad already.

“Lit. analysis, huh?” Shou says, cutting through Ritsu’s train of thought immediately, because Shou’s got this way of saying things just so, so that Ritsu knows some shit’s about to go down. He finds himself smiling before Shou’s even said anything particularly ridiculous yet.

“Yep,” he replies, hefting the book, “Hence, the Poems of Doom.” The reading schedule for the lit. analysis class had very rapidly become completely unmanageable, hence why Ritsu is going cross-eyed trying to read thirty poems the night before class.

Shou shoves his bowl to the side and leans towards the sofa, making grabby hands at Ritsu. “Please. It’s my favorite thing, you have to let me–”

“No!” Ritsu laughs, holding the book out of reach, “I have to take it seriously, I’ve got to talk about this shit in class, you can’t ruin it for me–”

“Just one poem, please, Ritsu–”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Suzuki!” Ritsu gasps as the book goes flying out of his hands and shooting straight into Shou’s. Shou is on his feet in one bizarre, fluid motion, book held open in one hand, scrutinizing the poems held within. Ritsu watches, bemused, as he paces the floor of the living room, the book held aloft, arm outstretched, chin up, every bit a Hamlet preparing to lament Yorick.

“A- hem,” Shou coughs, pausing mid-stage, glancing up at Ritsu expectantly.

Obediently, Ritsu straightens in his seat, puts on a veneer of mild interest, raises an eyebrow to say, at your leave, Hamlet.

With a great deal of solemnity and gravitas, Shou begins.

“Piggy to Joey, Piggy to Joe. Yes that’s what I was – Piggy to Joe.”

Ritsu’s already snickering at the delivery, the overlong pauses between lines, the great lamentation in Shou’s eyes, his voice, the slight, not-quite-European accent on every piggy, but then begin the stage actions, Shou throwing his arms up, wretched as he continues,

"Will he come back again? Oh no! No! No! Oh how I wish I hadn’t been… Piggy to Joe.”

He bows with a flourish, and Ritsu golf-claps accordingly, breath coming in short gasps between laughter. He is completely fucked if this poem comes up in class tomorrow. He kind of hopes it comes up in class tomorrow.

-

He wanders into the kitchen zombielike, putting on the coffee machine and wandering over to the fridge, fully prepared to stare blankly into it for a couple of minutes before realizing nothing’s ever appetizing to him this early in the morning and giving up, resigning himself to chugging coffee on an empty stomach and getting pizza at the dining hall later.

He pulls open the doors and comes face to face with a tupperware sitting front and center, a post-it stuck to it reading in Shou’s impossible scrawl, ‘TAKE LUNCH TODAY’. Ritsu blinks at it for a few moments. It’s the carbonara from last night, definitely. Shou probably didn’t leave the note for himself, because one, he’s just recently gone to bed and as such won’t be up to go anywhere for lunch, and two, because the rest of the leftovers are in a big, clingfilmed glass bowl on the top shelf of the fridge. So that must logically mean that the tupperware is intended for him, which is…

The coffee machine beeps. Ritsu’s not awake enough to deal with the logistics. He grabs the tupperware and shoves it in his bag.

-

TO: YOUR FAVORITE ;) Hey, thanks for the sack lunch today

FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) thumbs up emoji

TO: YOUR FAVORITE ;) Wh Why would you not just send me the thumbs up emoji. Why would you type it out like that

FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) couldnt be bothered to switch keyboards

TO: YOUR FAVORITE ;) You are inexplicable. I hate you. Anyways thanks for lunch. I heated it up in a study room microwave and stank up the place with garlic, everyone hated me

FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) worth it tho

TO: YOUR FAVORITE ;) Oh, absolutely

FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) sparkly heart emoji

TO: YOUR FAVORITE ;) Stop

-

It’s normal, and it’s not.

He settles into a schedule, a routine, quickly, and it’s a little disorienting how mundane it all feels. But then again, that’s what life is; it’s just stretches of mundanity broken up periodically by monumentally life-altering events.

He’d read a list once, of the most stressful events human beings can experience. Deaths, natural disasters, divorces, injuries, illnesses. Other stuff too, marriages, pregnancies, changes in routine.

Ritsu’s problems tend to be so extreme, shit like, oh, my new best friend burned down my house and his dad’s trying to kill us all, shit like, every time my big brother has strong emotions it’s a geological event, that it feels like his perception of what’s normal and what isn’t has been warped.

Starting school was on that list. Moving houses, too.

The move was fine, though, is fine. Finding the apartment was the worst of it. After that, it was just learning how to be in a space with another person, and he already knows how to be with Shou, knows the particulars and intricacies of how he operates, and Shou knows him just as well, well enough that they don’t set off each other’s pet peeves, for the most part.

As Shou’s proclivity for cooking had shown, however, that didn’t mean there weren’t surprises.

Case in point:

Here’s something Ritsu would never have known about Shou without living with him: he owns a t-shirt for every day of the year, and about four pairs of underwear.

“Ritsu-kun,” he says, comically demure in the way that says that Ritsu’s going to hate whatever comes out of his mouth next. Ritsu glances up from the sofa, sees that Shou’s wearing nothing but a towel, and decides just to silently raise his eyebrows.

“Now, see, here’s the thing,” Shou says. “I have not done laundry this week.” “I’m shocked.” “I may – hey – I may be running short on, uh. On undies.”

“Shou.”

Shou throws his hands up defensively. “I thought I had enough, but my last pair had a big hole in them! Look, I don’t wanna go commando, it’s uncomfortable! Whatever, I’ll just reuse yesterday’s–”

Ritsu’s up in an instant, shaking his head. “No, no, nope, gross, fucking fine, I’ll lend you a pair.”

He goes digging in his drawers, throws a pair of old briefs at Shou’s head, who promptly gives a peace sign and disappears back into the bathroom.

“Jesus fuck.”

-

Other things, tiny things.

Ritsu tries putting on classical music to concentrate, and Shou wanders around the house conducting it, flourishing a pencil, spinning and waltzing and directing an imaginary orchestra, inevitably distracting Ritsu more than whatever he put on the music to drown out.

After far too long sitting in the Corner of Shame in the living room, they finally decide that Ritsu’s books cannot sit on top of a box containing an unassembled bookshelf all year, and attempt to build it. They get the shelves down alright, and then manage to attach the legs to the side of the shelf instead of the bottom. Shou declares it modern art and walks away to make dinner. Ritsu’s too tired to argue; he just puts his books on their sad, sad shelf and calls it a day.

Shou sheds, which as someone who has had sleepovers with the guy, was not news to Ritsu, but it becomes apparent and stunning just how thoroughly Shou’s hair has invaded every aspect of their lives. It’s in the shower, in the sink, on the sofa cushions. As Ritsu’s about to leave for class, he notices a red hair on his sweater, and holds it up for Shou’s inspection. Shou snatches it out of his fingers, says, “Wow, rude, I was looking for that.” Ritsu sighs, gives up, and decides to buy a lint roller.

The apartment is small, the kitchen especially is not built for two people to be in it at once, and Shou, in chef-mode, has this brisk nature about him, always gives these brief ‘passing behind you’ touches to Ritsu’s back if he’s moving around him. Ritsu, if he’s willing to admit it to himself, is becoming weirdly attuned to the touches. It feels like his skin knows before it happens, starts to prickle and stand to attention, and they always linger after Shou’s moved away, his aura clinging, vibrant and fluid against him.

It’s these times that he notices, really notices Shou’s aura, but it doesn’t feel foreign so much as more intense, but always familiar, always there, sunlight twisting around his fingertips. He can see it when he squints.

Your aura always looked a little like your brother’s, Shou had told him, once. Like, similar because you’re brothers, yeah, but I figure both of you living in the same place for so long, you just rubbed off on each other, it got all mixed.

It does feel different, now. Ritsu’s and Shou’s both. It hovers around Shou’s shoulders like a blanket of static, purple and a hundred other colors, runs through his hair and dances between his legs when he walks. He wonders if Shou feels it too.

-

They hit autumn proper, and Ritsu gets a few days off. Without having to worry about getting enough sleep, he ends up staying awake with Shou, gets dragged off into the city in the dead of night to satisfy Shou’s wandering tendencies. After the summer of the Sauna Apartment, it’s nice to be able to bundle up, even if Ritsu’s not the biggest fan of the chill pricking at his cheeks, making his nose start to run. Shou, as ever, seems mildly ignorant of the temperature, throwing on a thin jacket seemingly for aesthetics more than anything.

When they’d gone for walks in Seasoning, even in the middle of the day, it was never a busy affair. Honestly, Seasoning might’ve had more spirits in it than it had people.

Grain City was a much different affair. They lived close enough to GCU that they were well within the bounds of ‘college town,’ so all of the main streets had a sleek aesthetic, the buildings new and flashy. Urban vegan marketplaces, cute little coffee shops, clothing boutiques, the sorts of places him, Shou, and Mob get dragged to by Teru for ‘double dates’. They’re nice, but not the kinds of places Ritsu would go of his own volition, not when he could be elsewhere, in private, without the stress of performing being alone in public. And it is public, even at this time of night; the street is well-lit, most of the storefronts still open, ready to entertain the night owl crowd.

Shou, after a brief ogle at the bright lights, promptly ignores all of this and starts wandering down back alleys, turning at random into residential areas, climbing over low walls and crossing through deserted parks. For the first few blocks, it unnerves Ritsu, trying to keep track of what direction they came from, roughly where their apartment building is. Back in Seasoning, they didn’t often venture into the city-proper, but on the outskirts, they knew the territory like the backs of their hands. Here, it’s uncharted land, and they’re well outside of Ritsu’s comfortable knowledge of the route from the apartment to the bus stop.

Shou is infectious, though, and Ritsu’s nerves never last long in the face of him, utterly carefree as he trots from streetlight to streetlight. He stops paying attention to the direction, gets caught up in the conversation, stories they’re still managing to tell each other because they talk every day but even stupid shit starts to sound like something he wants to share, his “Oh, did I tell you about the time in this one class–” matched by Shou’s, “So I never told you about this one dude I met in–” , part of the running competition they’ve had since they were thirteen to make each other laugh like absolute idiots.

They’re on some dead-end street, surrounded by mostly warehouses and run-down storage buildings, Ritsu leaning against a street light pole to catch his breath through the laughter, Shou snickering at him, and it strikes Ritsu suddenly. It’s the coalescence of everything – his cheeks aching from the smiling, Shou hovering at his side, close enough to touch, the fact that he’s always close now, just another room over, in the kitchen cooking, in the shower singing–

“God, I missed you,” Ritsu says, with more feeling than he intended, voice rough in a way he didn’t expect, but he means it.

Shou falls silent, swaying on his feet, his expression slowly morphing into a sort of dumbfounded awe, and Ritsu’s so caught up watching his face that it takes a moment for him to realize that he’s not cold anymore.

He barely even has to concentrate to see the way Shou’s aura is moving around them, dripping from his skin like liquid sunlight, enveloping Ritsu in warmth, in the welcome pressure of Shou’s pure joy.

He’s at Ritsu’s eye-level all of a sudden, and when Ritsu glances down, sure enough, Shou’s hovering, toes barely grazing the ground, and Ritsu takes a sharp breath when he realizes this is something else they’ve not had since Shou left, one more thing he took for granted until it was gone. His stomach is already turning in protest, but he holds out his hands to Shou, palms up.

“Alright,” he says, “Take me up.”

Shou blinks at him, says, “You sure?” but he’s already moving to grab Ritsu, hands on top of his, wrapped loosely around his wrists. Ritsu tenses when he feels himself start to float, buoyed by Shou’s powers around him. He wobbles unsteadily, tightening his grip on Shou to keep himself from lurching forward, glaring when Shou snickers at him.

“Let’s go, asshole.”

Shou doesn’t respond, but Ritsu feels a rush of pressure at the soles of his feet, and then they’re up, ears popping with the rush, colder up here he can tell but can’t feel it, can only feel the warmth bleeding into him from Shou’s hands on his skin. They’ve started laughing again at some point, the sound of it hysterical to Ritsu’s ears, and they’re clinging onto each other for dear life as they shoot up, closer and closer, foreheads pressed together, hands grasping, and Ritsu missed this, this thing he only ever has with Shou, the ridiculous adrenaline rush and the lightheaded glee, forgetting about everything else, just having this.

They stop dead and he rocks back, looking at the city sprawled below them. It’s all lights and sounds in miniature, even the skyscrapers dwarfed by the height, and it seems comical from up here, fictional, unreal. Like it doesn’t exist, like none of it exists, while they’re up here.

Shou lifts a hand to his forehead, squinting as he scouts the terrain. “Oh, hey!” he says, grinning, “I can see our street! That’s good, because I had no clue how we were getting back.”

Ritsu snorts, deigning not to mention that they both have phones with GPS. Just slides his fingers into Shou’s, squeezes once. “Alright, lead the way, Sunshine. Let’s head home.”