#oh yes if anyone else is curious. i did in fact sit down and map out a timeline to get her age how i wanted it.
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lululeighsworld · 1 month ago
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Lorah: Lilac Knight's Love
Artist: @littledashdraws
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Wanted to share this commission by Dash, who so lovingly illustrated my vision for Gunter's first wife!! Although Lorah's lived in my head since 2017, this is the first time I've had her drawn. Because I'm so thrilled over this art, I put together a little introduction for her!! you can read more about her below~
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Residence: Duet Mountains Occupation: Farmer •❀• Bedside Nurse •❀• Homemaker Birthday: July 11 Gender: Female Relatives: Gunter (Husband) Katerina (Daughter)* Personality: Shy •❀• Bubbly •❀• Optimistic Hobbies: Crafting •❀• Gardening •❀• Baking Age: 21 (when she first meets Gunter) •❀• 36 (at death)
A Nohrian commoner whose known the kingdom's southern mountain range and neighbouring valleys her entire life, Lorah was a recognizable resident of her town even though she kept to herself. Learning the basics of herbal remedies from a young age, she would split her time between tending to the fields and easing the woes of the sick. In adulthood, she would chance upon meeting a Nohrian Great Knight during her town's annual spring festival. The couple's engagement, after seven years of courting, had become one of the most highly anticipated moments amongst the townsfolk.
*NOT the Nohrian Queen. I named their kid before I realized what Xander's mom's name was and by that point I was already ATTACHED (tell me Caterpillar is not the cutest nickname). So now the reason they share a name is lore relevant (which is a part of this fic!).
divider by saradika
#fire emblem fates#feif#fe14#gunter#yeah sure this can go in his tag#fire emblem oc#paranoid over tagging her as an oc cuz. she does exist in canon. but also. canon gave us nothing!#i'd like to consider it free real estate for oc development purposes#also cuz if intsys ever does decide to publish details about gunter's family i would say:#what do you mean. i've been letting his family live rent free in my head for almost a decade.#ANYWAYS YES SHE'S A RED HEAD. who do you think i am. /of course/ im gonna make her a red head.#things about me: gunter i am also attracted to your wife. therefore: she is a red head. case closed.#HER LITTLE COWLICK I LOVE IT SO MUUUUUUUCH#also dash gave me the behind the scenes info that she and Leigh have the same eye colour AHA#sorry gunter you are bound by a cosmic fate to fall in love with a certain eye colour#this will come up in a future fic. im sure. the freckled shoulders are already going to >:3c#oh yes if anyone else is curious. i did in fact sit down and map out a timeline to get her age how i wanted it.#by my calculations gunter would have been ~28. they have approx. 15 years together before everything falls apart#their long courtship is important to me okay#anyways to end this off. MISS LORAH I LOVE YOUUUUU beautiful woman who has been baking in my head for over 7 years.#I am taking good care of your husband don't you worry!! the old man is getting all the love he needs#god I wish she could have seen him as an old man. GOD. I work so hard cuz I'm loving him for her and me!!!!!!#gunter (fates)#lorah (oc)#fef#gunter's family
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labomi · 4 years ago
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selfish | one (18+)
Summary: You're a former coworker of Kento Nanami back when he was just an office worker. You accidentally run into him at a bakery many years later which gives you a second chance at getting to know the man who had always caught your eye.
Pairing: Kento Nanami x f!Reader
Words: 11.1k+
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, creampie, explicit language, attempted sexual assault, kidnapping, canon-typical violence, alcohol
Note: Read on ao3 here! I’ve been on tumblr on and off for about 10 years at this point (yikes), but I recently decided to start a new one as sort of a writing blog with a lot of anime gif reblogging on the side as well haha. Kind of nervous to post my first fic on tumblr for some reason, so I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading!
Index: [Part One] [Part Two]
“Nanami? Kento Nanami? Is that you?”
You couldn’t believe your eyes. It had been years! Was that really him?
---
The night you accidentally ran into Kento Nanami started off like any other night in your life. After an exhausting day of work, you decided to treat yourself to some sweets at a nearby bakery. The small chime on the door signaled your entrance with the lone employee warmly greeting you.
“Welcome!”
There was only one other customer in the small shop. A tall man stood at the cash register. 
Hmm.
There was something strangely familiar about the man’s demeanor. Curious, you drifted over to the display case next to the register to try and sneak a peek at his face. While admiring the delicious-looking pastries on the counter, you listened in on the conversation between him and the cashier.
“That will be 2000 yen,” the lady said.
“I’ll pay with card.”
You stiffened slightly, eyes widening in surprise. 
That voice! ��
You recognized that voice!
The man shifted his face towards you as he reached to grab his wallet from his pocket. You were finally able to get a glimpse of his face. 
You gasped.
“It is you!” you exclaimed in surprise. “Nanami!”
He looked as prim and proper as ever. The man still wore a suit and tie with his hair neatly parted. The only major difference in his appearance was the sunglasses that now completely shielded his eyes.
“It’s good to see you again! How have you been?” you asked eagerly.
Nanami looked at you silently, trying to recall where he had seen your familiar face before.
Then he remembered.
A flood of memories from a different life overcame him. The man hesitantly said your name, like he couldn’t quite believe your unexpected appearance before him. You nodded enthusiastically while he absentmindedly handed his credit card to the cashier.
“Oh wow,” you breathed, feeling a little giddy. “I haven’t seen you since you quit all those years ago. What are you doing now?”
Nanami seemed to pause for a second, adjusting his sunglasses. “I work at a school.”
“Oh! As a teacher?” 
“No, just as staff.”
“That sounds nice. What school?”
“It’s a private religious school in the mountains. It’s not particularly well-known,” the man replied vaguely. 
“Oh, I see.”
A loud beep of a cell phone interrupted the conversation. Nanami reached into his other pocket and took out his phone. He frowned, looking at the device. “I apologize, but I have to go immediately.”
“Oh, uh, ok,” you said, feeling slightly disappointed. You barely had any time to catch up with your former coworker. Nanami grabbed the bag from the counter and swiftly exited the store. You watched him walk away with a sigh. What were the chances that you would bump into him again? You pouted, upset that the circumstances hadn’t exactly worked out in your favor.
“Oh no!” the cashier suddenly cried out. “He forgot his card!” She pointed at the blue credit card on the counter.
“Lemme see if I can catch him!” you responded, already running out of the bakery. You pushed open the door and ran in the direction you saw the man leave. “Nanami!” you shouted. Other pedestrians looked at you curiously, but you couldn’t see the tall man anywhere. You walked around a bit further out, continuing to call his name but to no avail. Sighing, you headed back to the bakery.
“No luck,” you said to the cashier. “He’s gone already. I have no idea how he disappeared so quickly.” Crossing your arms against your chest, you looked at the forgotten card in frustration. “What should we do now?” If only you had his number! 
“I guess I can keep it here in case he comes back,” the lady reasoned.
Hmm.  
An idea popped in your head. 
A selfish one.
“Wait! How about I take it and return it to him?” you asked. Then you realized that your request might come off as suspicious. “We used to work together, I promise I’m not trying to steal it or anything.”
The cashier smiled at you softly. “I trust you. You come in here quite a lot and that man did say your name, so I know you’re not lying.”
You sighed in relief.
Thank goodness.
After buying some pastries for yourself, you walked out of the bakery holding Nanami’s credit card in your hand. You carefully stored it in your bag before beginning the walk back to your apartment.
A private religious school in the mountains, huh?
It shouldn’t be too hard to find.
---
You groaned, fighting the urge to pull your hair in frustration. 
How hard was it to find this damn school?!
You were sitting at your desk in the dark. The only light in the bedroom came from your laptop screen which was full of search engine results for “tokyo private religious school”. You were on page 15. Not a promising sign.
Recalling your conversation with Nanami, you remembered the man said he worked at a religious school in the mountains. However, none of the private schools you had found so far were located in the mountains. You frowned. Had Nanami been lying?
You shook your head to yourself.
No. 
He’s not the type to lie. He did say it wasn’t well-known.
You scrolled further down and clicked on the next page. Quickly skimming the results, you finally found something that caught your eye. 
Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College.
Huh. What a strange name for a school.  
You clicked on the link. It brought you to a strange forum that looked somewhat sketchy and unreliable, but someone had at least posted an address for the school. You grabbed your phone and immediately plugged the address into the map app.
You punched the air in triumph.
“Yes!” The dot was located in the mountains by some Tokyo suburbs. 
This has to be the place!
Luckily, tomorrow was Friday which meant you had no classes, and you weren’t scheduled for a shift at work. You were free to find the school and return the card to Nanami in person. 
“Ok!” you said to yourself, rubbing your hands together. “Now to find out how to get there.”
---
You looked at the dot of your current location on your phone and then back at the vast empty woods in front of you.
This can’t be it!
You groaned out loud in frustration, stamping your feet in a little tantrum. 
Why is it still so hard to find this damn school?!  
Looking at your phone again, you double-checked the map to see that you were in fact at the exact location of the address you inputted, but nothing was here. It was just trees!
You sighed in disappointment but refused to give up right away. Maybe your phone’s GPS was off because you were so high up in the mountains and the signal was bad. You decided to follow the road that led up the mountain with the hope that you might accidentally stumble across the school. If there was a road, it had to lead somewhere! But strangely enough, you hadn’t seen any cars, buildings, or pedestrians since entering the area. 
After walking around for almost an hour, you decided to take a break. Sitting in the shade of some trees by the side of the road, you took your water bottle out of your bag for a quick sip. You admired the beautiful, quiet scenery in front of you.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
You were currently lost in the mountains of Tokyo looking for a school you weren’t quite sure actually existed. And it was all because you were selfish and wanted to see Nanami again. Your old coworker.
You hadn’t been particularly close to him at work, though he didn’t seem overly friendly with anyone in the office. Nanami was the stoic and serious type. He didn’t talk much with the team, but you could tell he worked hard. He was always one of the last people to leave the office for the night, if he did leave. On many occasions, you found him dozing at his desk in the morning when you arrived early to work before everyone else with the sneaking suspicion that he had spent the entire night in the office.
Unlike most of the other employees and especially your boss, Nanami seemed to still care about the clients instead of just the company’s profits, judging from the small snippets of conversations you overheard from him. You had always wanted to get to know him better, but he didn’t particularly have an approachable demeanor. At the time, you were just a young, newly graduated woman who was afraid of everything and everyone. So you often just kept to yourself.
You sighed, looking down at the ground. Taking Nanami’s credit card hostage was a pathetic way of trying to rekindle a relationship that never existed in the first place. You made up your mind. It was time to head back home and drop off the card at the bakery so he could pick it up himself. Today’s excursion was just a giant waste of time much to your disappointment.
“Excuse me, miss. What are you doing here?”
“Huh?” A man was hovering over you. You swore he hadn’t been there a second ago.
You screamed. “P-please don’t hurt me!” You put your arms out in front of you, shielding yourself from any potential harm. “I don’t have much money, but you can have it all!”
The man burst out laughing. You slowly lowered your arms, hoping that his laughter meant he wasn’t going to attack you.
“I’m not going to hurt you, and I especially don’t want your money.”
You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.” No longer afraid, you took a closer look at the stranger. He was tall. Very tall. Wearing a black outfit and a matching blindfold that spiked up his white hair.
What a strange appearance.
“Well, I won’t hurt you as long as you tell me what you’re doing here.” You gulped, hearing the silent threat in his words.
“Umm, umm, well, you see I-I got a bit lost and w-was just taking a rest,” you stuttered nervously, fiddling with your hands. “I heard there’s a private school around here and I’m trying to find it, because I know someone who works there. His name is Kento Nanami and we used to work together many many years ago and I just happened to run into him last night at a bakery but he left his credit card there and I wanted to give it back to him in person, so I thought it was a good idea to deliver it at his workplace but this school is so hard to find I have no idea where I’m going and-and I think I’m just going to leave now actually.” You realized you were rambling, so you forcibly shut your mouth to stop yourself from looking like a complete fool in front of the stranger.
The man hummed in thought for several seconds before suddenly grinning and chuckling to himself. His demeanor no longer felt threatening.
“Kento Nanami, huh,” the man said, still smiling happily.
“Oh, you know him?” You perked up, suddenly hopeful.
Maybe they work together!
“Leave it to me!” the stranger cheered, giving you a thumbs up. “I’ll escort you to the school and make sure you hand-deliver that credit card to Nanami!”
You felt relieved, tears almost prickling your eyes. “Oh thank you so much!”
---
“Satoru.”
“Mm.”
“Can’t you tell there’s a human who has been wandering near the barrier for quite a while now? It looks like they’re trying to find a way in,” Yaga commented.
“Well, they can’t. Isn’t that the whole point of the barrier?”
“I know that!” the principal grunted angrily. “But since you’re just lounging here around doing nothing, go check it out.”
“Fine.” Gojo got off the couch and headed outside, wondering how a human accidentally wandered this close to the school so far up the mountains.
---
It only took several minutes before you and the strange man found a path leading to the school. You blinked in surprise. You felt like you had walked by this part of the road earlier but had seen nothing.
Walking alongside the man quietly, you suddenly realized you had completely forgotten your manners. Quickly bowing to your escort, you introduced yourself and thanked him for taking the time to safely bring you to the school.
“It’s no problem. Any friend of Nanami is a friend of mine. Oh, and I’m Satoru Gojo by the way. I’m the first-year teacher here.”
He was a teacher? This man wearing a blindfold in broad daylight? You swallowed nervously. You wondered what kind of school Nanami was working for exactly.
Once you finally reached the main school grounds, all of your reservations immediately melted away. “Wow!” you breathed. The campus was absolutely gorgeous with beautiful statues, shrines, and gates. You couldn’t help but stop and admire your surroundings. “This school is beautiful.”
Gojo brought you to the teacher’s lounge and gestured for you to sit down. “So, tell me again how you know our dear Nanami?”
---
Nanami had just finished a mission when his phone chimed, signaling a text. He finished wiping his blade clean before grabbing the device. The message was from Gojo.
Gojo: Come back to Jujutsu Tech. Your girlfriend is here ;)
The sorcerer stared at the message. 
Nanami: I have no idea what you mean.
Gojo: ( ˘ ³˘)♥
He angrily shoved his phone back in his pocket and walked over to the car where Ijichi was waiting. He entered the back seat before closing the door behind him. “Hurry up. I need to find a certain white-haired idiot and destroy him.”
---
Nanami was walking towards the teacher’s lounge when he heard your bright laughter. He froze for a couple of seconds.
What were you doing here?
He picked up the pace, quickly entering the lounge to see you giggling on the couch next to Gojo. For some reason, it bothered him to see how close the idiot was to you and how happy you looked in his presence.
“Nanami! You’re here!” Gojo exclaimed, immediately noticing the other sorcerer’s presence. 
You turned your head quickly towards the doorway with a bright grin. “Oh, Nanami! Hi again!”
Nanami observed the scene, trying to figure out what was going on, but he was drawing a blank. 
First of all, you weren’t a sorcerer. How did you enter the school grounds? 
Second, did you know Gojo? The two of you seemed quite friendly on the couch together. 
Third, was Gojo implying that you were his girlfriend? That was absolutely ridiculous.
“What are you doing here?” Nanami asked you cautiously, adjusting his sunglasses. 
“Oh!” You dug around in your bag, pulling out your wallet. You removed a blue credit card. “You left this behind at the bakery yesterday. I tried to chase after you, but you disappeared so quickly. I had the day off today, so I thought I would try to find your workplace and give your card back to you.” You got off the couch, approaching Nanami and handing him the card.
Nanami took the card from you before placing it back in his own wallet. “You didn’t have to do this. How did you even find your way here?”
“I found her wandering nearby!” Gojo jumped in, grinning at the other sorcerer. “Imagine my surprise when she said the two of you used to work together back when you were just a salaryman. I just had to invite her back here. You never mentioned you used to work with such a lovely lady.”
You visibly blushed at Gojo’s words which just bothered Nanami even more. “Thank you for returning my card, but I think it’s about time y—”
“Nanami. Nanami. Namami,” Gojo said in a singsong voice. “You’re all work and no fun. It’s been years since the two of you have seen each other, and you’re already trying to get rid of her? Don’t you want to catch up a little bit?”
You played with your hair, a little nervous. “I mean if you’re busy Nanami, I can go. But I was hoping we could talk a little bit.” You looked up at him with bright eyes. “I want to hear how you’ve been doing.”
Nanami took one look at your hopeful face and immediately gave in. “Alright.” He gestured for you to sit back down as he walked over to one of the armchairs. The sorcerer pretended like he didn’t see your little jump of excitement as you hurried back to the couch with Gojo.
Once the three of you were all seated comfortably, you brought up what you had been previously discussing with Gojo. “I didn’t know you’re teaching at the same high school you went to as a student. That’s pretty cool!”
“He was one of the few students who graduated and decided to leave the community,” Gojo pointed out. “Most of us stay here and continue working for the school.” Nanami subtly glared at the white-haired sorcerer, wondering how much he had told you about the jujutsu world.
“Why did you decide to come back then?” you asked curiously.
“I changed my mind,” Nanami simply stated. “I realized I would find my career slightly more rewarding if I worked for the school than that company.”
You nodded in agreement. “That makes sense. I’m glad we eventually both left that job.” You slightly grimaced, just thinking about your past. It didn’t go unnoticed by Nanami.
“When did you leave?” he asked.
You hummed, recalling the past. “It was probably a couple of months after you left. I, uh, messed up something really badly and I got fired.”
Nanami raised his eyebrows in surprise. You didn’t seem like the type to make big mistakes. He remembered you as quite the careful and diligent worker. He narrowed his eyes slightly, wondering if you were being deceitful.
“It’s ok though,” you continued. “I worked a couple of odd jobs afterward to keep up with the bills until I decided I wanted to become a nurse! So I’m actually back in school now and working part-time to help pay tuition.”
“A nurse, huh,” Gojo remarked. “What a noble career choice.”
“Ahh, I wouldn’t say I’m noble or anything. I just think I would find my life more fulfilling if I was actively helping people,” you explained. “Probably similar to how you felt when you switched careers, Nanami.”
He nodded at your words.
uThe three of you chatted amicably the rest of the day. Gojo and you mostly carried the conversation, but Nanami would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy listening to your voice. After he ran into you at the bakery last night, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was the first time he was confronted with his old life after deciding to become a sorcerer again. Part of Nanami wanted to never look back on that phase of his life again, but perhaps it wasn’t all bad. Sure, he hadn't particularly liked anyone from that office, but he didn’t mind you. You had always been quiet, polite, and hardworking. 
Nanami still remembered his last day at the office. You had organized a surprise farewell party just for him with a cake, balloons, and everything. After everyone had their fill of free food and left the conference room, you had shyly wished him luck in the future and said you would miss seeing him in the office. All those memories came rushing back after encountering you in that bakery.
The sun started to set when you finally noticed the time.
“Ah! I should probably go,” you announced, checking your phone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstay my welcome.”
“No, no,” Gojo assured. “You are very much welcome here. Like I said earlier, any friend of Nanami is a friend of mine and all my friends are welcome here!”
“How do you plan on getting home?” Nanami asked, mildly concerned.
“Don’t worry!” Gojo said. “I got it handled. Ijichi will drive her back.”
“Huh? No, it’s fine,” you tried to argue. “I can get back by myself. It’s not a problem.”
“What kind of gentlemen would we be if we didn’t ensure you got home safely? Ijichi is our finest chauffeur,” the blindfolded man insisted. “He will take care of you.”
You looked at Nanami who simply nodded at you, encouraging you to accept Gojo’s offer. Sighing, you crossed your arms over your chest with a pout. “Alright. Thank you.”
The two men waved goodbye as you left in Ijichi’s car to head back home.
“Was it really wise to have her on the school grounds?” Nanami asked.
Gojo hummed. “It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. Normal humans aren’t allowed here for a reason.”
The blindfolded sorcerer didn’t reply. Instead, he took out his phone and started tapping on the screen. Nanami’s phone chimed. It was a text from Gojo. Opening it, he saw it was a string of numbers.
A phone number.
“You should call her sometime,” Gojo said. “She likes you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. What kind of woman travels to the mountains on her day off to try and find a publically non-existent school to return a credit card to someone she doesn’t like?”
Nanami remained silent.
“Just because we’re adults and jujutsu sorcerers doesn’t mean we aren’t allowed to have some normal fun. It’s alright to be selfish every once in a while.”
How badly Nanami wanted to believe Gojo’s words.
---
You heard the door open and close.
“Hello! How many I help y—Gojo?”
You blinked in surprise, not expecting to see the teacher at your workplace. While taking classes to become a nurse, you worked part-time at a small boba tea shop. You had just finished serving the flurry of college students who needed a midday pick-me-up when Gojo appeared. Several of the seated patrons whispered and pointed at him, wondering why he was wearing a blindfold and how he could see.
“Thought I would drop by and say hi,” he said with an easy grin.
You returned his smile. “Is Nanami with you too?” you asked, trying to sound casual.
“No, not today, unfortunately,” he replied. You tried to ignore the flash of disappointment you felt. “I’ll bring him next time.”
You perked up at Gojo’s promise, nodding eagerly. “Sounds good. So, would you like something to drink?” 
The man ordered a large brown sugar milk tea with extra sugar. You looked at him, mildly concerned. “You sure you want 120% sugar? It’s pretty sweet to begin with. Trust me.”
Gojo nodded. “Yup!”
“Alright,” you said with a shrug. You did try to warn him. 
You finished preparing Gojo’s drink and handed it to him along with a straw.
“Hey, do you mind if I borrow your phone for a second?” the teacher asked.
“Oh, sure,” you said, grabbing your phone from your back pocket.
Gojo took the device and opened the camera app. “Smile!” That was the only warning you got. He had taken a selfie of the two of you together. You weren’t even smiling in the photo, completely caught off guard. But Gojo was at least prepared, grinning happily and showing off his milk tea in one hand. You watched as the man repeatedly tapped on your phone screen.
“What are you doing?” you asked hesitantly.
“Here!” Gojo handed the phone back to you. Looking at the screen, you saw that he had sent the selfie of the two of you to a random number with a text that said “Having fun without you!”
“Um. Who did you send this to Gojo?”
“Nanami, of course!”
“Oh,” you said quietly, feeling butterflies in your stomach.
Nanami’s number!
You finally had it! 
Gojo chuckled to himself as he saw the way your eyes lit up.
“Oh, by the way,” you said, looking up from the phone. “It’s my birthday next weekend. I’m going out with a couple of friends on Saturday at 8pm at the bar around the corner, and I was wondering if you and Nanami would like to join? You should bring Ijichi too and anyone else from the school! Only if you want though. It’s ok if you don’t want to come or you’re worried about being awkward with my other friends even though they’re super cool and encouraged me to invite you guys and I promise I won’t be upset if you can’t make it because this is kind of last minute and I—”
“Sounds great!” Gojo interrupted your rambling. “I’ll be sure to pass along the information. We'll be there.”
“Really?” You grinned at the teacher. “Awesome! I guess I’ll see you then!”
Gojo waved at you goodbye as you tried to compose yourself before the next wave of customers arrived.
---
“Ahh!! You guys actually came!” you squealed as a group of individuals approached your table in the bar. You stumbled out of the large booth where your other friends were seated, already several shots in for the night. You clumsily hugged Gojo without thinking. Releasing him, you took in his new appearance.
“You look so different!” you commented. “But not in a bad way!” The man had traded in his signature blindfold for a pair of sunglasses that still hid his eye. His hair was lying down flat instead of its usual spiked-up look.
Behind Gojo, you saw Ijichi with a woman you didn’t recognize. 
“That’s Shoko Ieiri,” Gojo said, following your gaze. “She’s the doctor at our school.”
You happily greeted both of them, thanking them for coming. 
And finally, you saw the person you were looking forward to seeing the most. Nanami looked good as always. He was dressed a little more casually for the night without his signature jacket, tie, and sunglasses. Instead, he wore a crisp, blue button-up shirt with the top few buttons undone. You tried not to stare too much at his revealed skin.
As you approached Nanami, you reached out to hug him but you managed to stop yourself in time. You were worried about coming on too strong and opted for a small wave instead.
“Thanks for coming, Nanami! I’m so glad you came!”
Sitting at the table altogether, your other friends immediately fawned over Gojo. One of them grabbed you and whispered in your ear.
“What the hell? You didn’t tell me one of your friends was incredibly hot?”
You shrugged and ordered another round of shots for the whole table. Gojo ended up passing because he didn’t drink, so you took it upon yourself to finish it for him.
Nanami quietly nursed a beer as he observed the scene. He didn’t typically like crowded, loud bars like this, but he would make an exception for you. Gojo had also been extremely intent on making sure everyone from the school attended your little celebration. He managed to get Ijichi to come along only after getting Shoko to agree by bribing her with free alcohol.
Nanami was currently sitting across the booth from you, watching as you chatted with your friends. You were wearing a dark red dress that perfectly showed off your curves. The left strap of your dress was a little loose and it kept falling down the entire night despite you constantly readjusting it, not that Nanami had noticed. 
You looked so carefree and lively in this atmosphere. Every once in a while, you caught Nanami’s gaze and beamed at him happily.
At some point during the night, you left the table to go to the bathroom. It was only once you tried walking back to everyone that you realized how drunk you were. Stumbling a bit in your high heels, you leaned against the wall by the bathrooms for stability.
“Excuse me miss, are you alright?”
A man approached you, but you instantly waved him off. “Mmm, I’m good,” you replied. “Thanks though.” You were determined to make it back to your friends on your own, but as soon as you took a step away from the wall, you tripped. The man caught you before you could hit the ground. He had a tight grip on your waist.
 “You don’t seem good,” he chuckled softly. “How about I help you?” You could feel his hands starting to go lower, and you quickly latched onto them and tried to pry them off you.
“I said no,” you said firmly, but the man ignored you and pressed you against the wall. “Get off!” You struggled against him but to no avail.
Suddenly, the weight of the man was lifted and you felt like you could breathe again.
“Are you alright?” a smooth voice asked. 
You looked up to see Nanami in front of you. You nodded silently and admired his strong jawline and sharp eyes in the bar’s dark lighting. 
“Can you walk?”
You nodded again. Taking a step away from the wall, you immediately staggered again much to your embarrassment. Nanami grabbed your arm and lifted you up until you were half leaning on him for support. Inhibitions suddenly gone from all the alcohol in your system, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and gave him a hug. The man tried to ignore the shiver that went up his spine when he felt your warm, soft body pressed up against him. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was quite jealous that you had hugged Gojo when they first arrived. What was so special about that idiot anyway? Nanami slowly wrapped his arms around you, indulging himself for once and returning the hug.
“I’m so glad you came,” you mumbled against his chest. “I was so happy that I ran into you at the bakery that one night. But I was afraid I would never see you again.” You paused. “I really wanted to see you again.”
Nanami didn’t know how to respond to your words, so he gently rubbed your back instead. You leaned into his touch happily.
“Let’s get back to the others,” he said gently. You sighed and reluctantly removed yourself from the embrace. Nanami half-carried you back to the table and carefully deposited you next to your friends. To your disappointment, he didn’t sit down next to you and instead headed towards the front doors.
“Nanami? Where are you going?” Gojo asked, eyebrows raised.
“I’ll be back.”
When Nanami exited the bar, he was greeted by several couples who were taking a smoke break. He walked a bit further away, so he could be alone. The sorcerer leaned against a random building, taking a deep breath and trying to calm himself down. 
Nanami felt quite ashamed of himself. Acting like a hormonal teenage boy just because he briefly held you while you were wearing that damn dress. He tried to ignore the way his cock was straining in his pants. Gritting his teeth, he willed his body to relax. Nanami refused to let you see him so worked like this. He especially couldn’t let Gojo see. He could only imagine the endless teasing he would endure from the blindfolded idiot.
Inside the bar, you watched sadly as Nanami left. You wondered if it was something you did to scare him away.
Gojo sat next to you and handed you a glass of water. “Drink,” he commanded.
You did as you were told, keeping an eye on the doors to see if Nanami had come back in yet. “Does Nanami not like me?” you asked Gojo quietly with a pout.
The man chuckled. “I assure you that’s not the case.”
You turned to look at him. “How do you know?”
Gojo lowered his sunglasses slightly, and you were able to get a glimpse of his gorgeous blue eyes for the first time. “Trust me. I have good eyes.”
---
Nanami ended the call with Ijichi. He leaned against the wall of the bathroom with a grimace. He was still applying pressure to the wound he had received from Mahito. The sorcerer scrolled through the contacts list on his phone. He found himself hovering over your name.
Yes, he did save your number from Gojo’s text. Why wouldn’t he? It would be frivolous to ignore that kind of contact information.
Nanami grabbed another wad of paper towel to replace the one that was already drenched in blood. He grunted in pain.
A nurse, huh.
He wondered what you would do if you saw him right now. If you fuss over him and take care of his injuries yourself. Nanami sighed. He wouldn’t mind that. Would you carefully unbutton his shirt to get a better look at the wound? He could almost imagine the way your fingers would ghost over his stomach.
With a groan, Nanami banged his head against the wall. He couldn’t believe he was fantasizing about you while profusely bleeding in a public restroom.
The sorcerer cleaned up his blood all over the sink and threw out the dirty wads of paper towels. He went outside to wait for Ijichi to bring him back to school for proper treatment.
---
“I’m going to take my break!” you announced to your coworkers as you exited the bubble tea shop. You decided to go outside for a quick breather because it was such a nice, sunny day. Avoiding the crowds, you headed over to the alleyways near the shop to scroll through Twitter in peace.
You were so engrossed by your phone that you didn’t notice the presence of someone next to you. It was only when you heard them clear their throat that you looked next to you to see a man wearing sunglasses and a hat.
“Oh, sorry. Am I in your way? I can move.”
In the blink of an eye, he held a knife to your neck. You felt the cool blade lightly press into your skin. You held your breath, afraid to react in any way.
“Don’t scream. Don’t move,” he hissed.
Your eyes widened in shock.
That voice.
You recognized that voice.
The man grabbed you by the back of the neck and pulled you in the opposite direction of the busy street where unaware pedestrians were still walking by. He pressed the knife against your side now, digging it into the thin t-shirt you had to wear for work.
“Walk.”
He led you to an abandoned building several minutes away. Once you were inside and the door closed shut, he roughly shoved you to the ground.
You landed in a heap, groaning in pain. Turning around, you finally faced your captor.
“It’s you, isn’t you,” you said evenly. “Boss.”
The man chuckled, removing the hat and sunglasses. It was your former boss from the company where you and Nanami had once worked together. You dug your nails in the palms of your hands. If he was here, you knew you were in trouble.
“You called the cops, didn’t you!” he yelled at you, pointing the knife at you menacingly.
Cops? What was he talking about?
“No, I didn’t,” you replied honestly.
“You BITCH! Don’t lie to me.” He waved the knife closer at you.
“I promise! I didn’t tell anyone!”
With a shout, the man grabbed your hair and held the knife to your neck again. You squeezed your eyes shut and couldn’t help but let a small whimper leave your lips.
The truth was you weren't just fired from your job. You were threatened. When numbers weren’t adding up, you realized that your boss was embezzling money and had been doing so for a long time. He found out that you knew the truth and protected himself by forcibly ousting you from the company. As a young professional, you knew better than to fight against a big shot financial executive. When he warned you to stay quiet or face his wrath, you were wise enough to shut your mouth, clean your desk, and leave the building immediately. True to your word, you had never mentioned your boss’s crimes to anyone. You thought you were safe to move on with the rest of your life but apparently, that was not the case.
The man spat at you before roughly kicking you away. He started pacing as you wiped his spit off your cheek with a disgusted groan.
“This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. I’m about to lose everything. EVERYTHING!”
As he muttered to himself, you tried to survey your surroundings and determine if there was a way you could safely escape. Before you could figure anything out, your old boss approached you again, knife still in hand. He seemed to have made up his mind about what he was going to do.
“You’re going to fix this. Yea. This is your fault. I’ll pin it all on you. You’ll go down for this, not me!”
As the man ranted and raved at you, something appeared in the shadows behind him. There was some movement. You blinked your eyes, wondering if it was just a trick of your imagination. But to your horror, a green creature grew larger and larger in the background. It had three heads, each with multiple eyes and giant drooling mouths with huge teeth. The monster raised its multiple arms, hovering over your boss with all eyes fixed on him like he was a piece of prey.
“Scared, aren’t you?” the man commented with a chuckle. He was misinterpreting the horrified look on your face. “This is what you get for messing with the wrong man.”
You shook your head slowly and lifted a shaky finger to point behind him.
He turned around, dropping the knife in shock.
The weapon clattered to the ground.
Your boss screamed. He immediately tried to run away, but one of the monster’s arms snatched him in a tight grip. The three heads fought with each other as if deciding which one of them would get to swallow the prize. You took that as a cue to start running.
The monster was blocking the way you entered, so you ran towards the only other door you saw, which led to a stairwell. You ran up a couple of floors before hiding in a small closet you found. It was cramped and dusty but you hoped it was enough to hide you from that creature.
Sitting on the ground, you took out your phone shakily and called the police.
“Hello, what is your emergency?”
“I’m trapped in an abandoned building, and there’s a monster here.” You realized it sounded ridiculous, but you didn’t know what else to say in the moment.
The dispatcher groaned. “This is the last time! You kids have to stop with the prank calls. This line is for emergencies only!”
They hung up on you.
You stared at your cell phone in disbelief.
Shit.
Instinctively, you scrolled through your contacts list until you found who you were looking for. You pressed the call button.
Please pick up. Please pick up.
It went to voicemail.
You cursed to yourself again.
“Nanami,” you whispered quietly, voice quivering. “I don’t know when you’ll listen to this, but you have to believe me. I’m in an abandoned building near my job, and I swear there’s a monster here. I-I think it might have killed our old boss. I don’t know what to do, I tri—”
There was a loud bang. You quickly hung up and pressed the phone into your chest while you covered your mouth and nose with your other hand to quiet your harsh breathing. The sounds got closer and closer until it sounded like it was right outside the closet door. Your heart was beating so loudly you were worried the monster would hear it. But luckily, the noises started to become fainter. Eventually, you heard nothing even after a long time of terrified waiting.
Once you were reasonably convinced the coast was clear, you quietly opened the closet door and peeked out. The hallway was empty. Maybe this was your chance to finally escape the building.
You carefully climbed to your feet and tiptoed your way back to the stairwell. 
Your phone loudly chimed. The noise echoed throughout the empty building. It was a text message from your coworker asking where you went. You had forgotten to turn your phone on silent.
Almost instantaneously, the monster started roaring from the floor beneath you. You barely caught a glimpse of it before running up the stairs again until you reached the top floor. Exiting the stairway, you ran through the hallways until you reached a dead end.
Back pressed up against the wall, you watched in horror as the monster let out a sharp laugh as it approached you. There was blood dripping out of the mouths of all three heads. You didn’t want to think about where it came from. With no other options left, you weakly held your arms up in front of your face and squeezed your eyes shut with a whimper.
Suddenly, there was an angry shout and a loud splat.
You felt some sort of liquid splash all over you. Lowering your arms, an unexpected sight greeted you. It was the body of the monster all chopped up into pieces. You realized you were covered in its blood.
Behind the monster’s corpse stood Nanami. He had a covered blade in his hand that was also stained with the creature’s purple blood.
“N-Nanami?” you whispered hoarsely.
You couldn’t believe your eyes. Did he take down that monster? With a sword?
Nanami wiped the blood off his weapon, putting it away in its holster. He approached you as you shuddered violently, still in shock.
“Are you hurt?” he asked gently.
You shook your head no, wrapping your arms around yourself.
He kneeled down in front of you, taking out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping the droplets of blood from your face.
“What was that thing?” you whispered.
Nanami sighed, twisting the handkerchief in his hands once your face was relatively clean.
“A curse.”
You gave him a confused look.
“It’s a long explanation.”
“Yo!”
You flinched as Gojo suddenly appeared out of nowhere in the hallway. You instinctively grabbed onto Nanami’s arm in fear. He glared at the blindfolded sorcerer in anger for startling you.
“Oh, you’re already done here? I thought I’d check up on you two to make sure everything’s okay.”
First, your boss had threatened you with a knife. Then, a giant monster, no, curse appeared and attacked both of you. Nanami killed said curse. And now Gojo had appeared out of thin air. Your brain was officially broken. You just wanted to go to sleep. Surely this had to be a dream. You would wake up and everything would be normal again.
“We should probably bring her to Shoko just to make sure she’s fine and clean her up,” Gojo said, observing how your eyes were starting to glaze over.
Nanami nodded in agreement. He lightly touched your shoulder, but you hardly reacted. He said your name quietly. Blinking slowly, you finally turned to acknowledge him. “I’m tired,” you mumbled.
“I know,” Nanami said gently. He picked you up in his arms. “You can go to sleep. I’ll keep you safe.” With a sigh of relief, you closed your eyes and surrendered to the darkness.
You woke up in a small room, tucked under the covers in a warm bed. Nanami was silently sitting in a chair next to you. You let out a deep breath and turned towards the man. The rustling of the covers alerted him that you were finally awake.
“Why was the boss with you?” Nanami asked suddenly.
So it wasn't a dream.
“Oh. He was trying to threaten me,” you explained. “I didn’t lose my job because I made a mistake. I found out he was embezzling money. He said the cops were starting to question him, so he accused me of reporting him.”
Nanami clenched his fists in anger. That bastard.
“Is he alive?” you asked.
“No.”
“I figured.”
You quietly observed Nanami. He had taken off his sunglasses and blazer. You admired his wide shoulders and the way his tie was slightly loosened. 
“Nanami. What do you actually do?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to tell you.”
You gripped the covers. “Why not?”
“Because,” Nanami sighed. “It’s a dangerous profession. You don’t need to be dragged into this world for no good reason.”
“What do you mean?” You didn’t understand what he was saying. “I do have a reason. It’s you.”
The man didn’t respond.
You sat up in bed suddenly. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll ask Gojo.” You started to climb out of bed, but Nanami stopped you.
“Fine. Fine. I’ll tell you. Sit back down.” He let out of a deep breath, rubbing his face.
You silently listened as Nanami discussed the existence of curses, the theories behind cursed energy, and the role of jujutsu sorcerers. He explained how the school’s true purpose was to train the next generation of sorcerers and act as the main headquarters for all jujutsu-related activities. 
You only asked one question. “Why was I able to see that curse?”
“Regular humans can see them in life or death situations.”
“I see.”
Nanami was surprised at your reaction to learning about cursed spirits thus far. He expected you to ask more questions, to be more doubtful, to laugh and call him an idiot, or to scream and accuse him of being crazy. But you did none of those things. You just listened quietly and accepted everything he said as true. 
In your heart, you knew there was no reason to doubt Nanami. You were trying to wrap your brain around the existence of curses you couldn’t see, but you didn’t consider that the sorcerer was lying to you for a single second. He wasn’t that kind of person.
Nanami abruptly stood up. “Ijichi will drive you back home.” He started to walk away from you, but you quickly grabbed his wrist.
“Wait, don’t go,” you pleaded, eyes wide. “I haven’t thanked you for saving me yet. Thank you, Nanami.” You didn't want him to leave you. Not yet. You didn't want to be alone.
The sorcerer refused to look at you. “I think it’s best if you kept your distance from Gojo, me, and this school.”
“What?” you breathed. “What are you saying? I-I won’t tell anyone about curses or that you’re a sorcerer if that’s what you’re worried about. I promise.”
“That’s not it. I already told you. This world is dangerous. You should stay away.” He paused. “Stay away from me.”
You flinched, releasing Nanami’s wrist. The sorcerer walked out of the room without another word. You didn’t call out after him.
As Nanami walked away, he knew he made the right decision. There was no reason for you to get involved with the jujutsu world. He wanted you to live a normal life, not one plagued by constant death and despair. He was doing this for you. For your future and your safety.
“It’s alright to be selfish every once in a while.”
Gojo’s words echoed in his mind.
No. This wasn’t about him. It was about you. It wasn’t right for him to drag you into his world. He should be happy. Happy that you would eventually move on and live a long, successful life.
But why did he feel so sad instead?
---
Numerous opened textbooks and notebooks were scattered around you on your bed. You had an upcoming exam at the end of next week and were in the midst of cramming a semester’s worth of information in your head.
There was a knock on the door.
You frowned, carefully getting off the bed and walking over to the door. You weren’t expecting any visitors or a delivery today. Looking through the peephole, you gasped. You clutched your hands against your chest, trying to calm your frantically beating heart.
What was he doing here?
You hadn’t talked to or seen Nanami since your last conversation with him at Jujutsu Tech. And that hadn't ended well. You respected his request to stay away from him and Gojo, making no attempts to contact either of the two sorcerers. Instead, you had thrown yourself into your schoolwork and picked up some extra shifts at the boba shop. The less free time you had to think about your emotions, the better.
But now the man who still weighed heavily on your heart was at your doorstep. You wondered whether or not to pretend you weren’t home, but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn him away. He had clearly come here for a good reason and you wanted to know why, especially because he was the one that told you to keep your distance from him.
You unlocked the door and opened it slightly.
“Nanami.”
He said your name quietly.
The two of you looked at each other in complete silence. You waited for him to say something, but the man just continued to stand there without a word.
“Umm, well, I have an exam I need to study for, so if you have nothing to say I’m just going to g—”
Nanami suddenly pushed the door open wider, shoving you into your apartment. You stood there in shock as the door slammed shut behind the sorcerer. His unusually aggressive behavior had you baffled.
“What’s wrong with you?” you asked sharply. The man told you to leave him alone but then showed up at your apartment and invited himself inside without a word. You couldn’t help but feel a little irritated. “What are you do— mmph!”
Nanami had pushed you against the wall and kissed you.
You froze in surprise for a second before immediately kissing him back fervently.
One of his hands had settled on your waist while the other was pressed against the wall by your head. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed him closer to you, unable to get enough of this man. Nanami eventually left your lips, causing you to groan in frustration before he attacked your neck with wet kisses. You panted heavily, brain suddenly fuzzy as you tried to process that this was actually happening.
“W-what happened to staying away?” you breathed as Nanami sucked on a particularly sensitive spot that left you weak.
“I changed my mind,” he muttered against your skin before continuing to attack your neck.
After Itadori had saved him from Mahito’s domain, Nanami realized he had been given a second chance. He didn’t want to live a life without regret, especially as a sorcerer. So he decided to heed Gojo’s advice for once. 
He wanted to be a little selfish. 
He wanted you.
Nanami pressed his forehead against yours as he rubbed his hands up and down your soft curves. You breathed heavily, trying to catch your breath as you got lost in his dark gaze. 
“Bedroom,” you whispered. Nanami nodded and quickly released you, so you could guide him to your room. 
As soon as you entered the bedroom, you inwardly cursed. In the heat of the moment, you had completely forgotten what you had been doing before Nanami arrived. “Uh, sorry, let me clean up real quick.”
What a way to kill the mood!
Nanami didn’t seem to mind. He looked fairly amused as you swiftly closed all the books on your bed and haphazardly tossed them on the ground. Once the bed was finally cleared, you turned around to face Nanami, but he was already one step ahead of you. He gently pushed you on the bed, so you landed on your back as he hovered over you. Your breath caught in your throat as you admired the man in front of you. He was absolutely perfect. 
Nanami played with the hem of your shirt. Taking the hint, you sat up a little and swiftly removed your shirt and bra, throwing them in the corner of your room. Nanami let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as you took in your body. You fought the urge to cover yourself, feeling slightly embarrassed at how intensely the man was looking at you.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathed as you flushed in response. He reached out with both his hands to start kneading your breasts. You moaned as he began playing with your nipples that were already hard from excitement. Nanami removed his hand from your left breast and replaced it with his mouth. You squirmed underneath him in pleasure as he lapped and sucked on your nipple. Once he was satisfied with his work, the sorcerer switched to your other breast to give it the same treatment. With every flick of his tongue, you could feel electricity run through your body. You only craved his touch more and more.
Nanami started kissing down the valley of your breasts to your stomach. He eventually reached the hem of your shorts. “May I?” he asked.
You nodded, unable to trust your voice at the moment.
As he started tugging down your shorts, you lifted your hips to assist him. The garment was carelessly tossed to the ground. Immediately, Nanami could see how soaked your underwear was with your own arousal. His dick twitched in his pants. The sight of you so wet and eager from his touch alone only heightened his lust for you.
You practically sighed in relief when Nanami removed your underwear, fully exposing yourself to him. The heat from your core was overwhelming. You needed him to touch you and relieve some of that pressure before you lost your mind. A single finger stroked your folds, already slick with arousal. You gasped while Nanami groaned, enjoying how wet you already were for him.
“I’ve barely touched you and you’re like this already,” Nanami teased. You panted, trying to grind yourself on his hand for more friction, more pressure, more anything. He chuckled seeing how desperate you were for his touch. The sorcerer finally reached your swollen nub and rubbed it leisurely. You immediately cried out, arching your hips into man’s touch.
“Fuck,” you cursed as pleasure surged throughout your veins. Your eyes were squeezed tight as Nanami continued to play with your clit. You were so distracted by his fingers that you barely registered the hot breath near your entrance. It was only when a wet tongue began to prod into you that you realized what was happening.
With a gasp, your eyes flew upon to see Nanami’s head comfortably settled between your legs as he licked at your cunt without restraint. The sight of him eating you out only stoked the raging fire inside you. You buried one of your hands in Nanami’s hair as he worked diligently to get you off. The way he lapped at your fluids and sucked at your entrance had you moaning and quivering uncontrollably. 
“You taste so good,” he groaned against your folds as you barely registered his words.
A familiar pressure was building in your body. As it got stronger and stronger, you couldn’t stop your legs from thrashing about. With a growl, Nanami locked his arms around your legs to keep them as still. It only took a gentle suck to your swollen clit for the tension in your body to finally snap. Mouth opened wide in a silent scream, you writhed around on the bed as you finally reached your peak. 
Your mind was completely emptied while white-hot pleasure overtook your entire body. You swore you could see stars behind your eyes. As you rode out the last waves of your orgasm, Nanami eagerly slurped up your release, refusing to let a single drop go to waste.
Once you came down from your high, you released Nanami’s hair and laid back on the bed with a sigh. He removed himself from between your legs. Your fluids still covered his face, and his normally styled hair was a complete mess from your grip. Just the sight of him was enough to cause another spark of desire to flare between your legs. This man was going to be the death of you.
“Holy fuck, Nanami,” you breathed.
“Kento,” he replied, wiping his mouth clean on his sleeve. “Call me Kento.”
You flushed. Saying his first name felt incredibly intimate. 
“Kento.” 
He grunted with approval and then began to unbutton his shirt. You licked your lips as his broad shoulders and wide chest were finally revealed to you. He was incredibly well-built with defined muscles and abs, but a number of scars littered his body. Some looked quite fresh while others were old and almost completely faded.
This was the body of a jujutsu sorcerer.
You now understood why Nanami warned you that the jujutsu world was unsafe. You couldn’t imagine the suffering behind all those wounds. Perhaps one day he would be willing to share his pain with you, so you could understand his world.
You wanted to rub your hands up and down Nanami’s bare chest, but he moved out of your reach to start fiddling with his belt. Eyes lowering, you swallowed nervously as you stared at the large bulge that greeted you. Nanami slid down his pants and underwear in one go, erect cock finally released from its confines and bobbing in the air slightly.
The sight of him was both mouthwatering and intimidating. You admired the bulging veins and the bits of pre-cum that were already leaking out from the tip. He wasn’t excessively long, but he was incredibly thick. You nervously wondered if you would be able to handle his impressive girth.
You wanted to touch and taste him, but Nanami wasn’t interested. He gently pushed away your eager hands and instead spread open your legs once again. At the moment, he was more concerned about prepping you than chasing after his own pleasure.
He pressed one finger into your entrance, groaning as your walls greedily sucked him inside. You gasped, clenching around him. With how easily you were able to take one finger, Nanami slipped a second into you. It didn’t hurt, but you could feel your cunt stretching around them as they thrust in and out of you. Nanami’s fingers were so thick and long that you already felt so full.
“You’re so tight,” Nanami hissed as you got lost in pleasure once again. He pushed those two fingers in and out of you, occasionally scissoring them to loosen you up. You could hear how wet you were as he continued prepping you to take his cock. Nanami moved his fingers at just the right angle to hit a spot that had you instantly moaning and clenching around him. But he suddenly removed himself from you which had you whining at the sudden loss of contact, feeling empty. However, you stopped complaining as you watched Nanami stroke his dick, spreading your fluids and his pre-cum all over himself.
“Are you on birth control or do I need a con—”
“I’m on birth control,” you cut him off impatiently. “Hurry up. I want you inside me.”
Nanami didn’t keep you waiting much longer. He lined himself at your entrance and slowly began to push in. It wasn’t painful, but you still gasped as your walls stretched to accommodate his girth. The sorcerer immediately cursed when his tip entered you. You were so hot and tight around his cock that it took all his self-restraint not to immediately ram his full length into you. With slow, shallow strokes, you were able to accommodate more and more until his entire cock was buried inside you.
You felt so incredibly full. Your hand gripped the blanket on your bed to anchor yourself as you tried to get used to the sensation of being stuffed with Nanami’s dick. He tried to remain still above you, waiting for your signal. Eventually, you met his gaze and gave a little nod. He sweetly kissed you on the lips before he started to move.
Nanami started at a slow pace afraid to hurt you at first, but he eventually settled into a rhythm that had you moaning his name over and over again. You were so wet that he slid in and out of you effortlessly, rubbing against your walls in a way that had you seeing stars again. You had wrapped your legs against his waist, allowing him to enter you even deeper. 
You were almost babbling nonsense at this point, unaware of exactly what you were saying as your mind was just consumed by pleasure. “Fuck. Kento. You’re so big,” you whined. “Faster. Harder. D-don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
Nanami adjusted the angle of his thrusts until he finally found the spot that had you gasping and clenching down on him again. He groaned, making sure to continue hitting the same exact spot with strong, fast thrusts at just the right tempo. “You’re so perfect. Looking at you, taking my cock so well,” he growled.
The pressure was building again. Everything was so overwhelming. The lewd, wet noises of your bodies moving together. The way Nanami growled praises of you in your ear. The muscles on his back rippling with exertion underneath your wandering hands. You just needed that one final push.
One of your hands sneaked down to rub your clit, but Nanami pushed it away and pressed his thumb against your swollen nub instead. Just a couple of strokes had you reaching your peak again. You clenched down so hard around Nanami that his hips stuttered, groaning loudly in your ear. You were completely consumed by wave after wave of pleasure. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t hear. You couldn’t see. All you could register was the pure bliss that racked your entire body, leaving you gasping and shuddering.
Nanami continued to fuck you through your orgasm, ramming his cock into you over and over again. His thrusts had become more frantic and uneven, chasing his own climax after you started to come down from yours.
“Where should I cum?” he groaned with gritted teeth.
You wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him down closer to you.
“Cum inside me,” you panted against his ear.
He groaned. You were perfect. Absolutely perfect.
With a couple of more thrusts, Nanami completely buried himself inside you when he flooded your cunt with his cum. He remained inside for several more moments to catch his breath before finally removing himself from you. You slightly winced as his cock brushed past your sensitive walls. Nanami couldn’t help but admire the way his cum slowly dribbled out of you.
He laid down next to you as you both began to calm down. No words were needed between the two of you. The silence was comfortable as you cuddled against his chest. Nanami rubbed your back absentmindedly as you hummed in delight.
Eventually, the two of you got out of bed and cleaned up. The textbooks and notebooks haphazardly thrown on your floor were ignored for the rest of the day. You thought you deserved a break anyways. The two of you ate dinner together, cuddled on the couch while watching a movie, and went at it again for another round before settling down to go to sleep.
You were passed out next to Nanami, completely worn out from the day’s activities and normal sleep deprivation you had as a student. Your heavy breathing was the only sound in the tiny apartment. It strangely calmed Nanami just listening to you. He turned towards you and stroked your hair affectionately. 
A part of Nanami still worried if he had made the right choice with you. He was still concerned about your safety and well-being. Would he only bring you more grief if you constantly agonized over his dangerous missions as a jujutsu sorcerer? 
He let out a quiet sigh. He knew he would have regretted it if he continued to push you away. And if he was going to be a sorcerer, he wanted to be a sorcerer with no regrets. 
Nanami only hoped that he would never cause you any pain and anguish because of his profession. It was rare for sorcerers and non-sorcerers to find happiness as a couple. But perhaps the two of you would be an exception.
He prayed the two of you would be an exception.
---
“Welcome! How may I help y—oh!” You blinked in surprise as three individuals walked into the small boba shop.
Gojo waved at you with an easy grin. Nanami stood next to him as handsome and stoic as ever, but there was a new face behind them. He looked like a high schooler.
The blindfolded teacher wrapped his arms around the boy’s shoulder and pointed at him. “Meet Yuji Itadori! One of our first-year students!”
“Oh, it’s nice to meet you,” you said introducing yourself.
The boy tilted his head, looking at you curiously. “How do you know Gojo-sensei and Nanamin?”
Nanamin?
You chuckled at the cute nickname. 
“I told you to stop calling me that, Itadori,” Nanami replied, clearly bothered.
“Well, I’m…” you hesitated. You didn’t know what to say. A friend? An ex-coworker? A normal person who couldn't see curses but knew about their existence?
“She’s Nanami’s girlfriend!” Gojo exclaimed to your horror. You immediately flushed and looked to Nanami for him to clarify, but he didn’t react. He glared at the blindfolded sorcerer as per usual but didn’t refute the statement. Your eyes widened in realization. 
“Uh, y-yeah,” you stammered. “I guess I am.”
“Nanamin has a girlfriend!?” Itadori gasped. He had even more respect for his mentor now.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” Nanami growled much to your amusement.
You took their orders and began to prepare the drinks. Nanami and Idatori were talking in the corner while Gojo hung out at the counter near you. You had just finished sealing the drinks when the teacher explained something to you.
“Oh, by the way, Yuji is supposed to be dead so be sure to not mention his existence to anyone else.”
You almost dropped the drink you were holding. “Um, okay.” You thought it was better not to ask questions.
Gojo thanked you as he took his drink from your hand and grabbed a straw for himself. “Yo! Nanami! Yuji! Grab your drinks and let’s head out!”
Itadori followed Gojo out the door once he had his milk tea, but Nanami stayed behind.
“I meant it.”
“Huh?” you asked, cleaning the counter with a rag.
“I want you to be my girlfriend.”
You blinked, processing his words. A bright smile grew on your face. “Well, according to Gojo, I’m already your girlfriend.”
Nanami let out a rare chuckle and flashed you a small smile. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Goodbye!” You waved as he left the shop.
Your coworker came out of the back room, looking at you suspiciously. “Why are you so smiley?” She looked around the empty shop. “There’s no one here.”
“Oh, no reason," you replied with a hum.
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cafeacademia · 4 years ago
Text
The New Girl
Pietro Maximoff x Shy!Reader University AU
Summary: When you start late at Stark University you're immediately taken into one of the college’s most popular groups of friends after Rumlow makes you feel uncomfortable and a certain silver haired Maximoff catches your eye.
Warnings: Rumlow being a bit of an ass, flirting and fluff!
Word Count: Approx 1500
Navigation
A/N: Hi loves!! Here's the first part of the Stark University series!! This is a remastered version of the original that I wrote on my old blog, so while the bulk of this part is the same, there are some added parts to it that are completely new and that I hope flesh this out a little more. I hope you enjoy!!
If you'd like to join any of my taglists, please check the masterlist for the series and there will be links to the taglist forms, you can find that HERE.
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Walking towards the double doors, you held a not-so-useful map of the university, along with your new ID card the people at the front desk had given you. It was your first day at Stark University and to say that your nerves were running high was an understatement. It certainly didn’t help that you had no idea if you were even in the right place for your first class, you could only assume that this was the lecture hall you had been told to go to, which you thought you remembered it being called Howard Hall, but you saw no sign on the doors, nor plaques on the wall around it to indicate which hall it was.
And with one deep breath, you stepped through the double doors into a half filled hall, students climbing up the steps to get to the seats at the back, a wave of laughter floating across the hall as a group of older students chatted. You heaved a worried sigh, nervously looking up at the rows of students. You were two weeks late into the year having transferred to Stark University, which had a notoriously difficult entry test.
“You the new girl?” A voice caught your attention and a darker haired individual with a cocky smirk plastered on his lips leaned forwards on his desk, a toothpick hanging out of his mouth as he grinned at you, fingers tugging at the lapels of his leather jacket and you wondered if this guy hadn’t just walked straight out of the fifties in his greaser attire. “Come sit with us, pretty lady.” He patted the seat next to him, the crowd of boys turning to look at you and suddenly you felt heat creep up your neck and cheeks. You felt like prey to them and your stomach twisted uncomfortably at the way he had spoken to you.
As he waited for you to respond, a few of the boys now dramatically whispering about you while you stood in the middle of the hall, a hand came down to rest on your shoulder. “You don’t wanna sit with Rumlow, Prinţesă, they’ll only screw you over.” You looked up to see a group of four guys and two girls.
Steve Rogers, the head boy of the Avengers house and his best friends Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson stood before you. You’d seen them around and on a poster for the next football game and they most certainly were a heart stopping trio. Your eye, however, was caught on the silver haired of the bunch, a soft smirk, warm and inviting posture, hands shoved in his jean pockets, blue eyes that were somehow so warm and you involuntarily smiled up at him.
“C’mon, come sit with our group.” Sam smiled down at you, a more welcoming lopsided smile on his lips and in comparison to Rumlow, Steve’s group seemed much friendlier and more appealing. You nodded, silently agreeing, still far too shy to say anything before you were patted gently on the back and guided over to their seats.
You sat down with people on either side of you, Bucky on your left who turned in his seat to introduce himself properly to you and a girl with long, auburn hair to your right, who was chatting in another language with the boy who’d made your heart stop.
“You’re the new girl in our house, aren’t you? Steve told us you were joining today. I’m Bucky.” He held his hand out to shake and you gently placed your hand in his, letting him shake yours. “Yes, I just transferred this morning.” You nodded. “It’s nice to meet you Bucky.” You smiled shyly as you pulled your hand away.
“I’m Wanda and that’s my twin brother Pietro.” Wanda smiled, catching your attention as you turned in your seat to see her better. “Nice to meet you, Prinţesă.” Pietro grinned at you. “I’m twelve minutes older.” Pietro went on, looking at his sister and your heart almost gave out at the sound of his accent, it was stronger than his sister’s but it sounded so good on him. Wanda playfully smacked her brother on the arm as she rolled her eyes. “What? It is the truth, no?” Pietro chuckled, winking at you and Wanda.
“Where are you from?” You blurted out, having not even introduced yourself or even uttered a word to them and both twins looked at you, smiling at your curiosity. “Sokovia.” They responded at the same time and the girl on the other side of Bucky, sandwiched between him and Steve scoffed. “They’re like the Shining twins.” She muttered, Bucky and Sam snorting at her remark. “That’s Natasha, she’s a real doll.” Bucky winked at you, Nat raising her brow before swatting his arm and shuffling in her seat to lean fully against Steve.
“Are they a thing?” You whispered to Wanda. “Nat and Steve?” She whispered back, watching you nod in response. “She denies it, but they’re so into each other.” She giggled, Pietro leaning over as he became curious of your conversation. “I wonder who else is into someone and yet they deny it, hm?” He asked, voice laced with challenging sarcasm, to which his sister fixed him with a warning stare. “I’m going to grab a drink, anyone want one?” Wanda asked, standing up from her seat, everyone in the group mumbling an answer before she shimmied out of the row of seats.
Pietro got up and dramatically flopped down into his sister’s seat beside you, leaving his blue track jacket in a heap in his own seat. He leaned his elbow on the arm rest, head propped up on his hand as he gave you a heart stopping dreamy smile, blue eyes looking into yours. “Are you going to tell us your name or am I going to have to keep calling you Prinţesă?” Pietro asked, Bucky sighing and rolling his eyes. “What did you just call me?” You asked quietly, a little shy. “Princess.” Pietro winked at you, seeing the way you reacted, slightly flustered and you went quiet for a moment, making him think you didn’t like it. “It’s Sokovian right?” You asked. “Can you tell me more?” You asked, inquisitively and Pietro grinned, nodding. “Only if you tell me your name, Prinţesă.” He winked, a soft chuckle on his lips. “Oh my god.” You heard one of the guys mutter from next to you, presumably at the way Pietro was flirting with you, but to be honest, you didn’t mind. It didn’t seem ingenuine and even if it was, he was so playful that maybe this was just Pietro.
Suddenly Pietro’s arm was yanked out from under him, head dropping and smacking against your shoulder, Wanda standing over him looking rather unimpressed, Sam and Bucky collapsing into laughter, a string of giggles leaving your lips as you helped Pietro sit back up straight again. Wanda hissed something at Pietro in Sokovian, Bucky’s eyes widening at her words and you realised he could understand them. “She said he’s an asshole for stealing her seat every time she leaves.” Bucky leaned into your side, translating for you, failing to mention the fact that Wanda had also scolded Pietro for immediately flirting with you. “And Piet just said- well you don’t want to know what he just said.” He chuckled, making you giggle.
The lecture finally started, the professor having been late to the session and the hall quietened, Rumlow’s group stirring up now and again with stupid remarks and general irritating school boy behaviour. The odd note was passed up and down the row between you and your new friends, mostly between Sam and Bucky, Wanda and Nat sharing their notes with you too.
The bell rang, signalling the end of the session and everyone immediately leapt up before the lecturer was even finished with his presentation. “So, Prinţesă.” You turned to see Pietro as you stepped out of the row of seats, the rest of the group heading down towards the lecture hall door. Reaching up to sweep his silver hair to one side, Pietro gave you a soft, lopsided grin, gesturing for you to go slightly ahead of him, though he walked almost beside you as you descended the stairs together.
“Want to finally tell me your name over coffee?” He asked, making you giggle softly. “I’d like that.” You nodded, glancing over your shoulder at him, sharing a soft smile. “Can’t wait, Prinţesă.” Pietro winked at you. And Pietro really couldn’t wait. He wanted to know who you were, who the girl was that seemed to completely melt his heart within only seconds of meeting her. And he wanted to know what you were really like, especially as you were so shy. You knew as you walked down the steps with him at your side, that your time at Stark University was definitely going to be more interesting and exciting than you had imagined it could be.
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Pietro taglist (OPEN):
@barneswidow @megantje123
Stark University Taglist (OPEN):
@dracosaccount @thesewaywardskies @wasicskosgirl @acciopietro @hanaamara @ikkleronniekins
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willowbleedsonpaper · 4 years ago
Text
Shattered
James Potter x Reader
W.C. : 7591
Request:  Could you write a James Potter story where they have to fake date for a few weeks and the reader develops feelings and thinks James feels the same but doesn’t? And could you include “I feel stupid. I feel so stupid” or “I let myself get attached and now it’s too late”
A/N: This is my first time wrting for James and only the request made me cry, needless to say I cry writing this. I hope you like it lovely anon, and I hope is not too dramatic. Thank you for requesting! Happy reading, Skittles.
Warnings: Cursing, Angst, my english. Let me know if there is something else. Didn’t proofread so I apologize for any mistake.
Flashbacks are written like this!
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"Y/N!"
You snapped your head up, staring at the pile of books in front of you in annoyance as the inevitable unfolded before you. 
"Merlin, woman." he said, taking the chair next to you, scraping it against the floor without a care for the library rules, a wide smile always in his face "You are a hard person to find." 
You blinked rapidly at him, biting your tongue before deciding you could only fight fire with fire "Don't you have a map to help you with that?" 
His smile was quickly erased, shushing sounds coming from him like a hiss as he shot a hand to your mouth "You promised you wouldn't talk about it." he said lowly, taking his hand away from you when you nodded. 
"What do you want, James?" you asked with the roll of your eyes, returning to the reading "I'm listening." you told him again when he just stared at you. 
"I need a favor." he said flatly. You took a hesitant glance at him; his body was tense, back straight against the chair as his hand played with one another in his lap. 
"Figures," you mumbled closing the book "What did you do?" you asked him. 
He wrinkled his nose, an offended look in his face "I haven't done anything." he said in a higher voice, leaning against the table "Is what are you going to do for me." he grinned, taking a more relaxed posture on the chair. 
"Right," you scoffed, watching him stare at you in deep thought "Well, what is it?!" 
He took a deep breath and you prepared yourself for the worst. But not a lifetime could have prepared you for what he said. 
"I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend." he blurted out, putting on his most innocent smile as he batted his lashes at you. 
"No." you spat, turning to your books again. 
"Oh, c'mon." he said dramatically, ignoring the complaints from Madame Ponce and the other students. "I'll give you anything you want. Huh? Money, clothes, books. I'll do your homework." he said, his head laying on top of your open book. 
"I wouldn't trust you with my homework even if I was failing all my classes." you pushed his head away from your book, closing it as you stared at him with your arms crossed "Besides, why would you want me to pretend to date you?" you asked, the mere idea sending chills all over your body. 
He smiled tightly, playing with the edge of the table "Evans." he mumbled, coughing lightly after and turning to his sides to see no one had heard him. 
"You sick bastard," you whispered in disbelief, eyes wide as he shrunk under your hard gaze "You want to make her jealous." 
"Only for a while. For her to see what she's missing." he said, his confidence back as fast as it left him "Please Y/N, she would never suspect of you." he said pleadingly with a pout. 
"Why me?" you asked "There are plenty of girls who would die for a chance to date you, so why me?" 
His eyes felt slightly, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips "Well first because I trust you and you are my friend." 
"Debatable, but go on." 
"And because it'll be more believable. Everyone knows we went to a few parties together, spent some time together, snogging and all…" 
"Okay!" you practically shouted "I get it, okay?" 
"Is that a yes?" his eyes slit up, his smile wider than ever. 
You sighed, rolling your eyes as you started regretting your choice already "One month, Potter. If it doesn't work you're on your own." 
"Yes!" he whispered, punching the air in triumph as he stood up 'You're the best." he mumbled, placing his hand on your shoulder as he grabbed  his jacket from the back of the chair and walked away. 
You shook your head, returning to your reading "Uh, almost forgot," you heard him from afar before you felt him place a kiss in your cheek, the heat rising to your cheeks as you stared wide-eyed at him "See you at dinner, love" he said, winking at you before he left for good.
You sat there frozen, the transfiguration essay completely forgotten as you caressed your cheek where he had kissed you. 
You shrugged, quickly taking all your books and bag and running for the place, completely oblivious to the curious eyes from the girls that sat a few tables away from yours, their giggles and low murmurs quickly spreading all over Hogwarts. 
James Potter had gotten himself a girlfriend. 
*******************************
Time flies by when you actually focus on the task at hand. You had spent most of the day at your common room, people coming on going as you stayed glued to the same chair. You had proudly finished your transfiguration essay, started the research for potions and found some books that would prove themselves useful in the coming week.
The halls were empty as you walked peacefully through them, enjoying the echo of your steps on the stone walls. Everyone was already at the Great Hall, you could hear the chatting and laughter as you neared the enormous room, that also meant that you could hear the hurried steps of someone running towards you. 
You slowed down, considering the option of running the opposite way until you saw black curls and an uncharacteristic nervous smile. You had stopped, waiting for him to catch up with you when he forcefully grabbed your arm and pushed you to an empty classroom.
“What the hell, James?” you hissed, turning to him as he closed the door.
“Did you tell anyone?” he asked out of breath, rolling his eyes at your quizzical look. “That we’re dating?!” he said, more desperate, shaking his hands in the air.
“Fake dating.” you corrected him, and he shushed you again.
“Only we know that,” he pointed at the two of you, running a hand through his hair as he paced “Besides anyone could be listening so keep that to yourself.”
“Why are you so nervous?” you asked him with a frown “Isn’t it good that everyone knows?” you asked, confused, taking a seat in the desk as he slowly started to panic.
“I thought I would have a little more time, you know. Make a big deal out of it. Asking you out and then to be my girlfriend, all that.” he explained, his pacing never faltering.
“James, calm down.” you said softly, reaching your hand to his. He took it and you pulled him to sit next to you. “They just saved you some time, we can always say it was a secret.” 
He turned to you with wide eyes, a relieved smile in his face as he nodded “Yeah, that’s a great idea.” he mumbled, cleaning his forehead with the back of his hand “Yeah, okay.” he said more confidently as he jumped from the desk, his breathing even once more.
You did the same, turning to him before you opened the door “Ready lover boy?” you asked, getting a firm nod from him as you got out with him following close behind. 
What you weren’t expecting was his hand on your lower back, guiding you to the Great Hall before he wrapped it around your shoulder, his hand hanging loosely at your side. It wasn’t a long walk to the place he usually sat, but it felt like it. All eyes were on you, and they had different energies to them. Some were happy, like they had been waiting for this for a long time and it had finally happened; others were shocked, the low murmurs with both your names hanging in the air as you strolled down to the table; and the last one and the one you were hoping for, angry, jealous, glares burning your skin as you sat down next to him. 
“So it’s true, then?” asked Remus with a smile, his eyes meeting yours in amusement “You finally won the heart of our Jamie?” 
You laughed, putting your nerves aside and doing what you were gonna be rewarded for “More like he won mine,” you said, looking back at James with a grin “He had been chasing me like a dog, thought maybe he was worth it.” you smiled, getting surprised looks from everyone at the table.
“Has he now?” asked Sirius with a knowing look, staring at James in a silent conversation before he turned to the redhead “Hey Lily, you heard that?”
She met Sirius' eyes with a glare, rolling her eyes “Loud and clear, Sirius.” she mumbled, not even sparing a glance in your or James’ way.
“Yeah well, I got the message loud and clear too, Evans.” said James, with a smug look “I know when to give up on something.” 
*******************************
The announcement of your relationship with James went nothing like you had expected. You went from being just another student at Hogwarts to being James Potter girlfriend, captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team and one of the most popular students. Hell, even Mcgonagall got excited when she saw him, with a few exceptions. 
“So you got detention?” you asked him as you walked through Hogsmeade holding hands. The cold air blowing through your hair while he pulled you closer to him, his body warmer than you would have expected with only the jacket he wore. 
“Maybe,”  he said with a breathy laugh “Totally worth it, though. You should have seen their faces when the cauldron exploded.” he said excitedly, almost jumping the last steps to the Honeydukes. 
“Oh, I can imagine.” you told him as he opened the door for you “What are we doing here?” you asked him, finding him smiling down at you.
“Pick whatever you want, love.” he said, opening his arms as you took the entire shop in. “Well, go on. You must want something, I know for a fact you love these so we’re taking those with us.” he took a bunch of sugar quills from the shelves, carrying them in his arms as he pulled you with him with his other hand.
You laughed, not knowing what to do or say “James, what are you doing?” you asked, making him stop for a moment.
He turned to you, his eyes widening as he picked up a chocolate frog he handed to you with a funny face “What do you think? Buying treats for my favorite person.” he chuckled. 
You didn’t question him as he essentially bought every single candy the store had, you two got out of there with a bag for each one of you.
It was a lovely date, your first one for that matter. A week after the beginning of your little act and he had insisted in taking you out on dates whenever he could. The first one, of course, being to Hogsmeade. After Honeydukes you went to the Three Broomsticks, drinking butterbeers and laughing at every single thing he said. Putting up the act for the prying eyes.
It wasn’t difficult, really. James was actually your friend and you had previously spent time with him and his friends, but the audience made your stomach turn inside of you. You knew the group on the table next to yours were paying attention for every detail they could grasp their hands on, you knew that as more people arrived at the establishment their eyes would fall on you. You felt exposed.
“Hey,” he said softly, grabbing your hand over the table “You okay?” he asked, lowering his head so he could look directly at your eyes.
You nodded your head, smiling over your butterbeer “Just fine.” you lied.
But he wasn’t taking it, he cocked his head to the door, helping you to your feet as he grabbed the bags of your candy. “C’mon.” he murmured on the side of your head before he placed a soft kiss there.
You slowly walked back to the castle, his soothing voice never stopping to tell you about everything he did, for quidditch to pranks. He was an endless source of conversation that you found yourself enjoying, not that you would admit that out loud. 
You didn't even pay attention to where he was leading you, the soft soil underneath your feet making you look forward as the Black Lake appeared before your eyes. 
"James, there's no one here." you told him as you looked at every possible direction. 
He had already sat on the ground, patting the spot next to him "I know," he murmured, pulling you to gin so your head was resting on his shoulder "You didn't look comfortable with everyone looking at you." he said. 
He had his hand running up and down your arms, the motion so soothing you almost ignored all the thoughts going wild inside your head. You looked up at him suspiciously, square noting your eyes even if he didn't seem to notice your gaze on him. 
"And why do you care?" you asked him, trying to sound playful but your voice betraying you as it came out more like a whisper "You have one goal and it's not my wellbeing."
He laughed, glancing down at you before he kept his eyes in the distance. "You're still my friend." he said softly "And you're helping me, the least I can do is make it more enjoyable for you." 
You raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything. You knew the look in his face all too well, it was the same face he made in a particularly difficult quidditch match or whenever he was taking a test; he would frown deeply, wetting his lips every now and then when they weren't in a thin line, he would look a nothing in particular as if he saw something that wasn't there but in reality he was aware of everything around him. He was inside of his own world. 
You didn't realize when you ended laying on the grass, your head on his lap as he played with your hair. You had fallen asleep and the only reason you had woken up from the peaceful sleep was because of him poking your cheeks. 
"Wake up," he whispered in your ear, smiling down at you when you slowly opened your eyes "There you go, sleeping beauty." he said, helping you sit up. 
"Huh?" you asked, rubbing the sleep off your eyes with a yawn "Who's sleeping beauty?" 
"I don't know," he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. "Moony calls Sirius that when he wakes up, thought it fitted you." he said. 
He walked you to your dorm room in a comfortable silence after you apologized a thousand times for falling asleep on your date, assuring you it was fine. 
"You talk in your sleep." 
"No, I don't." 
"Yeah, you do. Mainly my name, really." he said, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 
He wished you good night, giving you a tight hug before you handed him his bag from Honeydukes. 
"Keep it." he said, closing your hand over the handle of the bag. He gave you one last look before he started to walk away, turning a few times to you still there, shaking your head as he ran when Professor McGonagall voice boomed over the halls calling his name. 
You sighed, going inside your dorm and placing the bags over the bed. A smile appeared on your face as you pulled a sugar quill, a tiny note written in messy handwriting attached to it. 
First week payment. 
You laughed, taking a bite out of the candy as you placed the note back inside. 
"What in Merlin's name? Did you rob Honeydukes?" 
You turned at the sound of your roommate and the door opening "No," you said, a smug smile in your face as you raised an eyebrow to her "My boyfriend bought them for me." 
*******************************
The fuss over your relationship with James had dissipated into a common thing that no one questioned. Watching you close to each other, holding hands at the halls or underneath the table, murmuring things into each other's ears provoking a smile or a chuckle from any of you, kisses on the cheeks, forehead or temple as you held each other close. Only the more skeptic would question the longing stares you two shared at any given moment you were forced apart. 
“You’re amazing.” you heard James over our shoulder as you sat in the common room, close to the fire with a cup of tea in hand. You raised an eyebrow at him, sipping at your tea. 
“Thank you?” you said, placing down the hot cup as he sat next to you in the far too tiny couch. "Don't get me wrong, I am amazing. I just don't get why you of all people would be telling me this." 
"Don't be silly." he said, taking your face in his hands as he squeezed your cheeks "Peter heard Lily talking very angrily about you." he whispered with the biggest smile. 
Your eyes widening, slowly nodding as he moved his hands from your face so you could talk "Oh, that. Nothing new." you told him, and she pulled slightly from you "Don't tell me you haven't noticed the glares and heard the grunts from her as soon as we appear in the room." 
He shook his head and you wanted to laugh, but chose to smile tightly "Oh, Jamie. You are so oblivious." you said patting his cheek softly. 
He pouted, looking hurt at you as he took your wrist in his hand "So the last two weeks Lily has been killing you in her head and I knew nothing of it?" he asked in annoyance. 
"Pretty much, yes. Although I only noticed this week in potions." you said, capturing his interest as he somehow fitted his body on the couch laying his head on your lap. You sighed, knowing he wanted to hear what you got "I don't know what I was doing but you were staring at me with dowey eyes, and you kept bothering me with something…" 
"Nice you pay attention to me," he grumbled. "I was asking you to go see me play this Saturday, you heartless woman." he said with a fake hurt look. 
"Right, anyway. Remember how you told me a joke that almost makes me slip because of how hard I was laughing?"
He nodded, taking your hand as he played with your fingers, a smile appearing on his lips as he remembered "Yeah, I had to hold you so you wouldn't drop the cauldron all over yourself." he chuckled, poking your rib where his hand had been that day. 
"Well, when I finally calmed down…" 
"Hours later if you ask me." 
You slapped his hand "Let me finish," you whined, as he mouthed a Sorry and indicated you to go on "Well, when you stop talking nonsense I caught Lily looking at you before she turned with a glare at me."
"Really?" he breathed out like a kid, hiding the excitement in his voice "What did you do?" he asked you. 
"I smiled at her and took your hand later." you said proudly, keeping your head high with a smile. 
He sat up, crushing you with a hug as he peppered your face with kisses "I told you you were amazing.“ he laughed excitedly. He let go of you, eyes shining as he held up a finger, running up the stairs of the boys room. Minutes later he came back down, a large box in hand with the colors of your house. 
He placed it on your lap, sitting next to you as he gave you space. He nudged your arm when you only stared at the box in shock "Open it." he said encouragingly.
With the shake of your head you took the ribbon, undoing the knot slowly. Once you opened it, staring at it "What's this?" you mumbled, pulling a neatly folded sweater in the colors of Gryffindor . Once it was fully out of the box your nose caught the faintest smell, doubtfully bringing it to your face. 
"James, this is yours." you said lowly, looking up at him. 
He nodded, pulling a scarf of the box as well and wrapping it around your neck "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't give you my sweater? Besides, I wasn't kidding when I asked you to the game." he said. 
"I know you weren't," you said back, putting the gifts back in the box "I was planning on going whether you were kidding or not." 
"Really?" he said, a little caught off guard "You never go to the games, ever." 
You stared back at him as he leaned back on the couch, talking but you had stopped listening. He was right, you never went to see the games. So why were you so sure you were going? Nothing had changed, sure, you were 'dating him' but you still didn't like quidditch, you had more important things to do, why did you want to go? 
“I'm gonna put this in my dorm." you said, not even noticing you cut him off mid sentence. 
"Sure." he beamed, his face falling a little at the look in your eyes "Hey, are you okay?“ he said, taking your hand before you went away. You gave him a soft nod, gripping his hand before he let you go. 
Once at your dorm you closed the door, lighting some candles as you sat with the open box in your bed. It might as well be your birthday, the sweater and scarf not being the only things there. He had included more candies that you could possibly eat, always teasing you because of your sweet tooth. And at the bottom of the box, another note. 
Second week payment. 
*******************************
The week stretched out like it had never done it before. Your excitement for the quidditch match increased as the day neared, everyone was talking about as they made bets and wore something to support their favorite team. 
And you weren't someone to stay behind, whether it was James' sweater or the scarf, you walked the corridors and attended class with a proud air flowing around you. It didn't matter if James was around you or not, you wore the red and golden colors like a brand. 
To your luck, Saturday arrived and you were up at the first light. You put a little more effort in your looks, making sure that you were comfortable but looked nice for the big day. James had tried to explain why it was so big and everyone was so excited about it, and even if you didn't understand you were thrilled, your body vibrating with the rush of the people around you. 
You got to the Great Hall, the entire team cheering at you walking towards the table as you looked for James with your eyes. 
"Mrs. Potter! “ yelled Sirius as soon as his eyes landed on you, a round of whistles and howling sounds erupting from the mouths of the exhilarated team. You tilted your head at him with wide eyes, lowering your head when you felt an arm around you. 
"Oi! Shut up, Pads. I'm the only one who gets to make her blush." he stated, saying hello in your ear as he climbed on the bench. "Gentlemen!" he shouted, everyone stopping their activities so they could listen. 
"Today is not like any other game we've played in the past. Two things are different today," he said with an almost hungry smile "Those Slytherins have been bragging about their new member, a new seeker. The jewel to their crown they said" 
Everyone started booing, their hands around their mouths as they voices boomed all over the room. Your eyes stared in awe at the man up on the chair, yelling and cheering for his team. 
"But they don't know that we also have a new jewel in our crown!" he shouted, the murmurs spreading as he gave them a wolfish grin "We got ourselves a luck charm." he said, pointing his hand at you. "This is Y/N's first game! Are we going to make this the best game for her or what!?" 
"YEAH!“ they all yelled, the energy in the room turning more and more powerful as they cheered and howled, a pack of lions ready to take on the snakes. 
He smiled down at his team, jumping from the bench and landing next to you "Ready?“ he said, looking over your shoulder before he returned his eyes to you "Remus is gonna sit with you during the game, okay?"
You smiled at Remus, who had been there since the beginning of the speech "Cheer for me, love." he whispered, kissing your cheek and running off with the team before you could answer him.
You stood next to Remus, a blissful look in your face as you stated at the place where James had been a second before. 
"I don't know what you did to him, but please keep it up." he chuckled, offering his arm as you two walked to the quidditch pitch. 
"I'll try my best." you said with a smile, forcing the bitter feeling in your heart away. 
The game had begun smoothly, you and Remus had been sitting down and keeping up a nice chat, he was an interesting person, really surprising that he was so close to Sirius and James. Peter. You understood, he reminded you more of him. But as the chat advanced and he let go a little more you saw that he wasn't as innocent as you thought. 
But at some point you both lost the string of the conversation, Slytherin scoring their first points. You started yelling and cheering for Gryffindor next to Remus, who more quietly supported his house. 
Gryffindor won the game and you clearly had been there to see it. Your hair was a mess, wild from all the jumping and at some point in the game you had discarded the scarf, getting in your way as you followed all the players. It had been a whole experience. 
"Come with me." said Remus to you, pulling you through the crowd as the teams were still flying in the air. 
"Where are we going?" you laughed. 
"The dressing rooms." he said, and there in fact was where he was taking you. 
You lowered your head a little when the Slytherin team stormed by your side, almost flattening your entire body to the wall as to avoid their anger. But that didn't last long as Remus pointed a little forward in the corridor and you met the brightest smile ever. 
It didn't take long for him to get to you, almost throwing his broom to the ground when he ran to you. His arms went around your waist as he sinned you up in the air, a whole heartedly laugh coming from you before he set you safely on the floor. 
He didn't say anything as your hands rested on his chest, looking up to his eyes before he met yours. His mind seemed to be working faster than his body, his eyes shaky looking everywhere before they settled on your lips, crashing his lips to your as he pulled you flat against him. 
It took you a second to react, frozen against him before you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. The cheering and whistles made him smile as he kissed you more passionately, only stopping by the loud sound of a door. 
You looked back a little startled, his fingers on your chin bringing your eyes back to him "Slytherins are bad losers." he breathed out. 
*******************************
The third week  of tour deal with James was nearing its end and you were dreading the beginning of the final one. 
You knew it was wrong, you knew you shouldn't have and you knew that it was doomed since the moment you admitted to yourself that you were falling for James Potter. 
You tried everything in your power to ignore the flutter in your chest every time he took your hand in his, no matter where you were, he always had his hand wrapped around your smaller one. You tried to ignore the fly of the butterflies inside you every time he caught you looking at him and smiled, not thinking any of it as he returned to his activities. You tried to fight the blush in your cheeks every time he kissed you, and you tried so hard to ignore the itching in your hands to pull him closer to you every time he kissed you just like he did after the quidditch match. 
Nothing worked. 
You tried to focus on the things that annoyed you before the bloody deal, his overly loud laughter at things that weren't even that funny, his cocky attitude like he was the best person in the entire world and he knew it, you tried to get mad at him for being so damn charming but you couldn't. 
You found yourself smiling at the sound of his laugh, the pure look of happiness in his eyes as he laughed at something one of his friends said. You would stare at him talking about quidditch, potions and transfiguration because he knew what he was talking about and he wasn't shy about, he loved to talk about it but he didn't make you feel like an idiot for not knowing. You couldn't get mad at him for being the charming man he was because that's one of the spells he placed on you, one of the reasons you were slowly falling for him. 
And you weren't the only one who noticed. 
"Hey, Y/N!" Sirius yelled, jogging to catch up with you at the end of the hall "You have a free period?" he asked, taking your bag from your shoulder. 
"Yes…" you said slowly, watching his every move "Sirius, what are you doing?" you asked when he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, your bag resting on his shoulder. 
"Walk with me, darling." he said, looking around as he led you upstairs "We're gonna have a little nice chat." he smiled at you. 
You had disconnected from every form of reality, suddenly feeling your hands sweaty as you tried to reach for your bag for something to hold onto, but of course he had taken it away from you. 
"James is not with me," you mumbled "He is…" 
"At quidditch practice." he completed for you, meeting your doe eyes with a grin "Relax, I'm not gonna do anything to you. Actually, I think I am going to help you." 
"What?" you whispered, going up the last step at the stairs of the astronomy tower. 
He turned with a sigh, holding your shoulders as he stared deep into your eyes "I know you're falling for James." he said gently, a very uncharacteristic tone from him. 
"I don't know what you're talking about." you blurted out, cursing yourself for saying it so fast. 
"Yeah, you do." he said with a wink "I also happened to know you are fake dating and not the love birds you have everyone believing you are." 
You swallowed hard, your voice gone as well as any rational thought you could have. 
"Breath Y/N, and listen." he said, blocking the only way out of the top of the astronomy tower that didn't include throwing yourself in the air, which didn't sound so bad at the moment.
"I've never seen him like that before, and I don't think he is pretending anymore." 
"Like what?" you dated to ask with a string of voice. 
He looked at you intently, finding the words as he carefully phrase it "He seemed very immersed in you, hasn't spoke about Evans in a while." he told you, leaning against the rail of the stairs "It all kind of clicked when he confessed you were only helping him with certain redhead." 
You shook your head "No, I don't want to know. “You tried to walk past him without a care if he had your bag or if he called after you, but he was fast, gapping your arm in the first step. You looked up at him with a pleading look "Don't give me hope, Sirius." you whispered, lowering your head as you got out of his grasp.
He let his hand fall at his side, your bag hitting the ground as he did. He could hear the faint sound of you crying as you ran away, being worse than he expected. 
As soon as you calmed down a little you washed your face in the girl's bathroom, making sure your eyes didn't look red or puffy as you returned to your dorm. 
Your roommates were there, all in one bed chatting before you walked inside. Their eyes were suddenly and all at once in you, their squeals making you giggle lightly as you one of them stood up. 
She went to their nightstand, getting a bag from the top and a little box. "James left them for you." she said excitedly handing them to you. 
You thanked her, looking down at the bed before you sat with them, putting the bag aside as you already know what they were. Your interest more on the small box that had you and the girls gasping at you opened. 
"It is beautiful." exclaimed one of them as they all agreed in low murmurs. 
A silver bracelet with a star Chem hanging discreetly from the chain, the light caught on the charm making little flickers shine on your faces. 
"Do you want me to put it on?" one offered and you shook your head no, taking the box and walking to the door again. 
"Y/N, what about the bag?" they asked you and you stopped at the door, looking back at it .
"Keep them." you said, walking out the door.
Going down the stairs and to your common room you sat in front of the fire, enjoying the warmth it provided to you. You didn't know when you went from enjoying all this situation, from laughing and just being overall happy to feeling it like a burden in your shoulders. The heaviness in your heart as you thought that all of this was with one goal and it wasn't proving your love to you, but proving the love he could give Lily. 
And yet Sirius' words resonated in your mind. He was his best friend, he knew him probably better than James knew himself, what if he was right? What if he actually saw something in you that he didn't see in her? Could it be that he might be in the same position as you were? 
You took the box and opened it again, the star charm giving you a little spark of hope as you held it up in the light, the tag tied to it making your heart fall once more that day. 
You took it between your fingers and pulled it  from the bracelet, throwing the piece of parchment to the fire as you saw the words burn. 
Third week payment
******************************
The final week of your agreement was coming towards its end, and unlike the previous week this one passed in the blink of an eye. You spent most of it having an internal battle with the part of you that screamed to get every second you could with James before it all ended, to finally say something to him, anything. Give him a clue of how your feelings had changed over the course of the last month, to tell him you might not compare on any level with Lily Evans but you loved him with every beat of your heart.
You spent nights silently crying in your bed when you realized this wasn't a crush, that you didn't think you might like him or that you were falling for him. No, to this point your heart heavied inside your chest with the burning truth that you loved him.
The other part of you fought to get away from him, to run away from his embrace and soft murmurs, to ignore his calls and smiles. To isolate yourself from him as you tried to wash away the love you had for the Gryffindor, but nothing seemed to work.
Gryffindor had been celebrating their victory like no one ever had before, hosting parties in their common room at every chance they got and, of course, your presence was required there.
“There you are!” smiled James at you as you walked through the portrait. Against your better judgement you decided to listen to your heart. This was the night that you would tell him the truth, you would confess your feelings and how you had fallen hard for him the past month.
“Hi” you giggled, letting him engulf you in a hug. You took in his scent, the way his chest vibrated against your face as he kept talking while he held you, the warmth he radiated. Everything you ever wanted.
When you pulled from him he was smiling brightly at you, taking your hand to pull you with him. 
“James,” you called, not moving from where you stood “Do you think I could talk to you outside?” you smiled softly at him, a shimmer in your eyes that had him nodding his head in a second.
He muttered something to Sirius who looked past him and in your way, giving you a wink and an encouraging smile. 
You led James through the empty corridors, his constant questioning making you stop in one of the windows that faced the courtyard. 
You were gathering the courage, having him sit in the windowsill as you pace in front of him, an amused look in his eyes. 
"Y/N," he said softly, you looked back at him taking deep breaths as he talked "Before you say anything, I just want to thank you. No one would have ever dared to do this for me." 
"Yeah, right." you laughed, relaxing a little. This was James, you had nothing to fear. 
"I mean it!" he said back, looking down at his hands "And… well, I believe this past month has changed us both." Your heart started to beat faster, the feeling in your stomach almost unbearable as he kept talking. 
"I realized something and I think you have too. We became closer, almost inseparable and I- you have no idea how thankful I am." 
"Jamie, I need to tell you something. " You said, frozen in your place as your eyes shakily looked for him. He raised his eyebrows, nodding at you with a smile. 
"I love you." you whispered with a smile, going to take his hand before you realized it was limp on yours. Looking up, the smile that decorated his face before was completely gone as he stared blankly at you. 
"What?“ he asked, taking his hand slowly from yours. “No, you don’t. You were pretending.” he said nervously “Right?” 
Your entire world fell around you when the warmth of his hand left you, you started to feel the castle walls close around you, blocking the air from getting to your lungs as you  stepped back, the pain of rejection worse than you could have ever anticipated. 
You covered your mouth with one hand, hugging yourself with your other arm as you turned your back on him, fighting the tears that threatened to escape your eyes. 
"Oh, Merlin." you sobbed quietly, feeling his hand on your shoulder as you turned to him. 
"Y/N…" he said softly but you couldn't face him, the pity in his eyes enough to make the dam in your eyes break. 
"I wasn’t pretending, not anymore." you whispered, cleaning the tears as more fell down. He called for you again, his voice more insistent. You purse your lips, turning quickly to see him "But you were, weren't you?" you asked in between silent sobs, your lower lip trembling furiously at his face. 
He had his mouth slightly open, looking for the words that never came. Not the ones you so desperately wanted to hear. 
"We were both pretending, remember?" he said slowly, never moving from his seat at the railing "We made a deal." 
"Forget the fucking deal!" you cried, looking for his eyes but finding nothing "So you're telling me that it meant nothing to you?" you asked, his face lifting form the floor. 
He looked sad, broken. Like he was too holding back, his eyes were shakily looking all over your face for a sign that you were just acting, that you hadn't fallen for him. 
"All the smiles and the loving words, the kisses and notes. Everything you did and every word was just an act?" you ask in a whisper, his silence worse than a thousand blades coming down on you. 
You saw him swallow hardly, finally looking at you "Lily was always there. I thought you noticed." he said lowly, voice barely above a whisper. 
You shook your head, kneeling on the floor as you took deep breaths. "I stopped pretending. It felt so real I- I thought, I just thought you would feel the same." you sighed, head hanging low “How could I be so stupid.” you mumbled bitterly “Of course Lily was there, how could I… I feel stupid. I feel so stupid.” 
He stared at you, furiously wiping the tears falling down your cheeks as you kept talking through gritted teeth. He was frozen, not knowing what to do or say that could place the smile on your face again, that could dry the tears from your cheeks and stop the trembling of your body. 
"I'm sorry." he said after a long moment of silence. You had walked all the way across the hall resting your entire body on the stone wall, looking up at the ceiling. You shook your head, standing up straight and looking out the window, at anything but him.
"It's not your fault. You're right, we had a deal and I knew what I was getting into since that day at the library." you let out a breathy laugh "I let myself get attached and now it's too late." you said, giving him a sad smile before you turned and walked away from him "Goodbye, James." 
You blocked everything after that. You didn't hear him call for you or go after you, you weren't even sure if he did. You didn't remember how you got back to your dorm, the door creaking open as you stepped inside. The lights were out, the entire dorm dark with the only source of light coming from the moon. You closed the door behind you not really caring if it made noise, your roommates weren’t there anyway. 
You walked to the bathroom, changing into more comfortable clothing and washing your face to try and make the redness around your eyes lessen, feet heavy as you returned to your bed, a soft yet blinding light capturing your attention. Your breath hitched on your throat at the sight, a flat box rested open on top of your bed with a single note sticking up. 
You thought you would feel numb fire wouldn’t burn anymore as the rain would not make you cold. You knew what you were risking by telling him everything and the worst thing just happened. 
He loved Lily, not you. 
You could avoid him, be another ghost at Hogwarts until your heart healed from the broken pieces. All wounds heal with time, right?
But as you neared your bed, reaching your hand slowly to the dark red paper covering the last gift from him your heart shattered. 
“You like it?” He whispered in your ear, a smile creeping up on your face as you placed the mirror you were holding  back on its place. 
“It’s beautiful.” you whispered as you shook your head “But I already have mirrors, it would be idiotic to buy yet another one.” 
He hummed as he held it back for you “I don’t know, this one is different.” he whispered, rounding you so he was standing behind you. He moved all your hair over your shoulder, staring at you through the mirror before he placed it down.
“You’re probably right, though,” he said with a grin “Wouldn’t want you to have to see your beauty every morning, must be tiring.”
Your hand closed around the handle of the mirror, lifting slowly as you stared back at your empty eyes. This was the last piece of James Potter in your life, the last thing that you would get from the fantasy you lived the past month.
You might have been able to heal from a broken heart, the cracks of it filling with time and patience. But as you stared longer at the mirror, the more painful the memories became until you couldn’t take it any longer. 
Your scream as you threw the mirror against the wall was muffled by the crashing sounds as all the pieces bounced off the wall. Your body collapsed on the floor, never caring about the shattered mirror. All the pain from the cuts on your hands and knees couldn’t be compared to what you were feeling inside, to the stabbing pain as you read the words staring back at you from the floor.
Fourth week payment.
After all, you could always fix a broken heart. But how did you fix a shattered one? 
TAGS:  @fanficflaneuse @nebulablakemurphy @lupins-sweater @accio-rogers @gloriousrebelrunaway @slytherinprincess03 @not-today-anxiety @strawberriesonsummer @infinity1o1 @haphazardhufflepuff
Shattered: @harrypotter289​
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fullmetalscullyy · 4 years ago
Text
royai week day 5 - illicit affairs
summary:  the previous night – their social engagement and the subsequent events that followed a clandestine meeting at his apartment between them – shouldn’t have happened
rated: t | words: 2629 | tags: royai, inspired by music: illicit affairs (taylor swift), angst, fluff, angst with a happy ending, romance, sneaking around, relationship discussion
an: happy royai day!!!!!!!!!!! thank u for following along with my fics this week celebrating our two fave war criminals :') and thank you for participating in royai week, whether it was a creator, a reader, a supporter, or all three. its always a fantastic event to be a part of and i can't wait to catch up on all the amazing things created this week <3333 best week of the year!!! hope you all have a lovely weekend!
read on ao3 | read on ffnet
“What are you thinking about?”
The question broke through his quiet moment of repose while Roy dozed. It wasn’t loud or a disturbance. His companion sounded merely curious as they observed him, but they were also being careful, speaking softly so not to startle him.
Roy batted his eyelids open slowly, feeling the grip of sleep lingering on him, and was greeted by the sight of his darkened bedroom. The sun was rising outside. Beyond his curtains he could see light beginning to filter through, signalling dawn was approaching.
He had uneventfully awoken before the twilight hour arrived and had found contentment as he held the woman in his bed tightly within his arms. Roy was left with the feeling of never wanting to let her go, so had opted against trying to fall back sleep. He chose to lay awake, to simply enjoy having the ability to hold Riza so closely. However as time passed, unwelcome thoughts started to swirl around inside his mind. Roy had contemplated them as Riza slept quietly beside him, unaware of his inner turmoil.
The fact they were even in this position was the subject of his thoughts. His heart allowed it and rejoiced. His mind, however, did not. Did he deserve to hold someone close after all he had done in life? Did he deserve to hold her?
The previous night – their social engagement and the subsequent events that followed a clandestine meeting at his apartment between them – shouldn’t have happened. They both knew that. It was their reality, but they needed… Something. Each other. It was a coping mechanism. A breaking of the rules they had meticulously placed between them in order to follow duty and set them on the path to righting their past wrongs.
But this wasn’t the first time said rules had been broken. Roy didn’t think it would be the last either.
Their co-dependency would be their downfall, Roy was sure of it. It had the potential to ruin completely them and yet, they still toyed with fire. It was an unwelcome thought, but it was their reality. He wouldn’t deny that fact and knew Riza wouldn’t either.
As a means of fending the thoughts off, Roy had elected to focus on the sound of her breathing and the way his hand rose and fell on her back, moving with the inflation of her lungs. He’d splayed his fingers over her bare skin and caressed her scars as she slept next to him, fighting off the whispers in his mind that he needed to stop and put distance between them. To end their illicit affair there and then.
Those tiny actions and her presence must have eventually been enough to soothe and relax him, because he’d ended up slipping gently back into unconsciousness.
Movement pried his attention away from his dark ceiling. A beautiful face popped into view and commandeered his attention completely. Riza was looking at him curiously, just like her tone had suggested. Her head was cocked to the side, creating a curtain of golden blonde hair over one shoulder as she tried to figure out the puzzle that was his mind and thoughts while watching him.
“Sorry,” she apologised quickly. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s okay,” he reassured with a smile. “I wasn’t asleep. Just dozing, really,” he yawned quietly.
Riza nodded. Her head righted and she lifted a hand to shift his fringe off to one side of his forehead, splitting it down the middle. He sighed quietly as her fingertips ghosted over his forehead.
“How did you know I had been thinking?”
Riza lowered her hand and then her head. She lay down against his shoulder and Roy wrapped an arm around her, holding her body flush against his. He inhaled, taking in the smell of her shampoo and conditioner. It washed over him like a comfort, and he angled his head to the side, so he was facing her. His lips were tickled by strands of blonde hair, causing him to smile at the sensation, despite his previous inner turmoil. He pressed his face into her hair and kissed the top of her head.
“There was a crease between your eyebrows.”
Automatically, the muscles of his face softened, and Roy realised there had indeed been tension sitting there. He shifted in place, relaxing his shoulders as well as his jaw.
“Am I that easy to read?”
“Oh yes,” Riza replied without missing a beat.
As he chuckled at her response, she shifted against him, and her head moved to rest atop his heart. It created a warmth there, spreading across his chest and pleasantly down into his stomach, to his very core. It was calming.
Emotions surged to the surface, forbidden and dangerous, but in the privacy and security of his own bed, Roy let himself feel them. For if he didn’t, it would all build up to a breaking point. It was a form of release to allow himself to feel the things he had to bury in the light of day.
“Well, you do know me better than anyone else does,” he remarked after clearing his throat.
His fingers trail up her bare arm slowly and with a feather-light touch. Goosebumps rose on her skin and the hairs on her forearm lifted to stand to attention. He could feel it under his fingers, and it made him smile.
“Although,” he mused out loud, “I don’t know how I feel about being unable to hide any secrets from you.”
“You’re keeping secrets from me?” She taunted him playfully and it changed his soft smile to a wide grin.
“Oh yes,” he answered, mimicking the way she’d said the same thing just moments ago.
Riza huffed to herself, and the air expelled tickled the skin of his chest. “I’m offended, Roy.”
“Having some secrets is healthy,” he countered.
Riza hummed against him. “What kind of secrets? Life changing ones, or day to day ones? How many have you got hiding in that head of yours, sir,” she added, poking him in the ribs gently.
“Like I said, a healthy amount,” he laughed quietly, flinching away from her light jab. “Like how I sometimes feed Hayate scraps off my plate when you’re not looking.”
“I knew that already,” she assured him confidently, but Riza still sighed heavily with disapproval.
“Damn… Well then, it looks like I don’t really have any secrets from you.”
“Good,” she nodded against him, her tone firm and approving.
They lapsed into silence and Roy continued his ministrations of running his fingers up and down her muscular arm. He enjoyed the feeling of hard muscle under her skin as he mapped out each one with every course over her forearm and bicep. He started to wonder if she was falling back asleep when Riza finally spoke again.
“I should go soon.”
It was a simple fact they both knew and were aware of, but it still felt like a bell tolling, signalling the end. It was the end of their peace, their time together, and their sanctuary. When the apartment door closes they will be back to superior and subordinate. Couple the power imbalance already in place between them and his thoughts from earlier, Roy can already feel a knot forming in his stomach. Because it doesn’t matter if they were together before her assignment under him. No one would care about that if it ever came to light. It would harm them and potentially completely destroy their plans for the future.
“Okay.” Roy swallowed to try and wet his suddenly dry throat.
He needs to stop this and put distance between them.
The pleasant feeling that had washed over him while they’d bantered back and forth was gone. Suddenly it felt like he’d been dunked in ice cold water.
Riza sighed quietly in response but still didn’t move.
That’s what makes it worse, he thought to himself. They both know they shouldn’t, it breaks so many rules and regulations, but they still do it. And they don’t want it to ever stop.
The fingers she had brought to rest upon his stomach slowly clench into a light fist. It was as if she was trying to cling onto him, and Roy tightened his arms around her.
They clung to one another in his darkened bedroom.
“I don’t want to leave.” Her voice was so quiet, as if voicing those thoughts aloud would rain down a higher power’s wrath upon her. It was a secret, one they both shared and hid from the rest of the world. He doesn’t want her to go either and feels the same way when they’re at her apartment.
“It’s wrong to stay, though.” Roy hated to say it, but it was the truth. They don’t shy away from their past actions. “It’s wrong to initiate it in the first place.”
“I know it is.” Her admission was as truthful as his, and her voice was subdued as she spoke. Her counter was not malicious, it was spoken like a simple fact, and his point was not made to scold her. He’d initiated it this time. Last time it was Riza who needed him. This time, last night, he’d needed Riza. Sometimes it was just for the release or on a whim. A true guilty pleasure, in every sense of the word. They are guilty of so much and this adds onto their pile. And they are equal in their desires of wanting to spend a night together.
Roy wrapped his arms tighter around her frame. “And yet… I can’t bring myself to stay away.”
Riza didn’t reply.
“In the privacy of my own bedroom, and in my own bed with you, I feel like I’m home,” he admits quietly. Breathes it like a prayer. “Riza… You are my home.”
Her head then body rose from the mattress and Riza propped herself up on one elbow so she could look at him. Her expression was neutral as she regarded him.
As wrong as their coupling always was, Roy took a deep breath and still revealed his true inner thoughts.
“Although nights like this shouldn’t happen,” he added, “they do. And I cannot deny the fact that I have never feel more at peace than I do like this. I won’t deny it to myself. I won’t deny it to you either.”
Riza blinked back at him, remaining silent. Her expression shifted slightly, and Roy had an inkling she was trying to keep some emotions at bay but didn’t comment on it. He simply observed and took note.
“This,” he gestured languidly between them, “is my sanctuary.” He lifted a hand to brush her hair over her shoulder. “I could never see myself with anyone else other than you.”
Riza still didn’t speak, but Roy could see a shiny film forming over her eyes in the growing light from outside.
“I love you. Always have, and always will.” His hand moved to cup her cheek gently. His thumb slowly stroked over her cheekbone once, then twice. “But I admit, I do fear for us and our future if we get too complacent and indulge ourselves too much. Whatever does happen, however it plays out, my feelings for you will never change. You can count on that.”
Her eyelids fluttered closed. Roy stroked her cheekbone again before lifting himself into a seated position. He waited for her to compose herself, enjoying the feeling of the soft skin of her face under his fingertips and the sensation of their heads bowed together so intimately.
“I’m sorry we have to resort to something that’s the equivalent of an affair,” he murmured quietly, running his thumb over her cheekbone one final time, “when you deserve something so much more.”
Her face screwed up slightly and Riza shook her head in the negative, protesting his statement. When her eyes opened, they were still shining but no tears fell. He offered her a tiny smile, secretly pleased she agreed with him, because it meant she was still happy, being like this, with him.
“I will love you forever, my queen,” he whispered. It was spoken so softly but held every ounce of passion it would have had if he’d declared it in front of a crowd of thousands. His speech was reverent, in awe of everything that she is, and of how much he loved this woman. They’re intertwined so intricately in everything that they do and while co-dependency may be their downfall, it is also a strength. Roy draws from it, from her, every day. Having Lieutenant Hawkeye by his side on his journey to the top is a blessing and having Riza stand by him through it all is something he doesn’t deserve. And yet, she’s there. Always steadfast and unyielding against any problems which are thrown their way.
A true queen.
Riza lifted her arms suddenly and latched onto him, finally overcome. Roy’s body was jerked forwards against her while one of her hands buried itself into his hair. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck and Roy wrapped his arms tightly around her back. He couldn’t move far because of the grip she had on him, but Roy did angle his head slightly so he could press a kiss against her neck.
“I love you, Roy,” Riza whispered. “So much that it scares me, but it’s not unwelcome. It never will be.” She pulled away and he could see a tear tracking down her cheek. Then, a breathy laugh escaped her. “I know you enjoy a bit of sneaking around sometimes,” she snorted quietly, which was quickly accompanied with a smirk.
Roy grinned back because she was right. He did enjoy teasing her about the thrill of it. And somewhere, deep down, Roy knew she enjoyed it just as much as him. The quick escape in the wee hours of the morning, the furtive looks, the briefest of touches that would make breaths hitch when they were overdue for a “meeting”, and the white lies about what plans they had for the weekend; Nothing at all, Breda, she’d shrug, making him roll his eyes fondly because that was always her answer. Just a date, he’d smirk, making them all nod in understanding at his code, and start Havoc off on a thinly veiled interrogation of what Roy’s date looked like for the week. Mostly for appearances, but everyone knew he was also actually interested.
Little did they all know, they were having an illicit affair right underneath their noses.
When reality came crashing back down, it made his stomach tie in knots, but Roy would always argue it was worth it. Despite everything, the threat, the worry inside their minds, he knew he’d do it again in a heartbeat with no questions asked.
They were already breaking all the rules with his plans of ascending to power. What was one more?
“And while the danger of it is always present…” Riza continued, pausing for a second as she considered what to say next. “It brings me comfort, because you are a comfort to me, Roy.”
Their foreheads kissed together, and both closed their eyes, simply existing and basking in the company of the other. For a moment, they were filled with such content. Airing out their thoughts had done them the world of good. Communication was always key, and it was not something they had ever lacked. They were open and honest with one another always.
Despite their inner turmoil regarding their coupling, the fact was undeniable to them that moments like this were their safe haven. Their shelter in a storm. Pure, unadulterated peace, for a few hours at least.
Being with Riza like this left Roy feeling completely whole.
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migila · 3 years ago
Text
MitsuChouWeek, Day 1!
Theme of the day: Crossover
Day 1: Crossover
Mitsuki, already a joonin by now, waited for his partner for this mission on a remote island in the only bar he’d been able to find. He didn’t like bars, but as there were no restaurants or cafes in the village, it was either to wait there or outside in the pouring rain. Well, there was a motel, apparently, but he knew what she’d say if he’d wait her at a place like that. Better save himself from the misplaced lecture.
Fortunately, there was one good thing about bars. As people were usually completely focused on their drinks or whatever company they had, they rarely noticed Mitsuki at his hobby, which was observing people. Of course, he preferred observing people he knew, but observing strangers from time to time was interesting, too. Plus, he might learn something related to his mission.
“I can’t believe that idiot lost the map!” Mitsuki’s attention was drawn to a loudly yelling woman, her orange hair flowing around as she gestured wildly with her hands to the man in from of him “Why did you give it to him in the first place!?”
“I’m sorry, Nami-san, that was so stupid of me” a blond-haired man admitted, holding his hands up “It was only for a few seconds; I didn’t think even Luffy could- “
“How long have we known him again?” the woman interrupts “Of course he could and with our luck would lose the map!”
“Yes, Nami-san” the man says, clearly defeated.
“And why did you not stop this idiot from giving the map to the other idiot?!” the woman turns her anger to another man, this one having a broad build and three swords on his hip. Not that that necessarily meant anything; the man could be poor with them for all Mitsuki knew. However, if possible, he’d rather avoid testing his luck. As interesting as it might or might not be, he was on a mission, one that the man was no part of as far as he knew.
“What am I, a babysitter?” the swordsman asks “Quit the ruckus, we’re being stared at.”
He was looking at Mitsuki as he said this, and as if on cue, the other two turned to look at him as well. He wasn’t supposed to attract any attention… ah well, too late. The blond was already walking his way, looking angry, and he hadn’t even done anything… yet. He wasn’t supposed to fight now, but if someone else threw the first punch, he was allowed to defend himself.
“And what are you staring at, punk?” the blond asks as he reaches Mitsuki “Are you ogling at my beautiful Nami-san!?”
“Not at all” he replied honestly, continuing in his never changing blunt way: “You were simply being so loud that anyone would pay attention.”
“Told you so” the swordsman muttered to the woman, Nami, they’d called her, hadn’t they? She wasn’t listening though as she too walked over, sitting down on the stool right next to Mitsuki.
“Oh? Are you sure that’s not an excuse?” she asks him with a smile, and he might have mistaken it for genuine flirting had he not noticed how the woman’s eyes had trailed over the rolled-up map sticking out of his bag. For a moment, he was slightly curious if she’d try to convince him to give her the map, distract him long enough to snatch the map or distract him long enough for her friends to snatch the map, but he didn’t give in to temptation to find out. While he was fairly confident, he wouldn’t lose the map, better safe than sorry. Plus, if it came down to an actual fight about the map, it might get damaged.
“Perfectly sure” he says “You don’t interest me in the slightest, not in that sense.”
He hears the swordsman snort, and the woman stares at him, a small frown forming on her face. She seemed a little irritated… he supposed he’d been a bit too blunt, as usual.
“Huh!?” it’s the blond man who actually voices his thoughts “I’ll let you know that our Nami-san is the most beautiful woman on earth; there is no way any man can resist her cha-!”
“Oh!” Nami interrupts him as her eyes light up in realization “I see, so you’re not in to women at all, are you?”
This was not the first time someone had come to that conclusion, but this time Boruto wasn’t even in the room. Strange.
“I am” not that he needed to fix this misunderstanding. In fact, letting it stick might’ve saved him from some trouble. Oh well “It’s just that I have my eyes on one woman only, and I mean no offence when I say her beauty exceeds yours.”
Nami stares, but then shrugs, smiling good-naturedly.
“You sound like a man in love” she says, and had Shikadai not thrown the same comment at him just last month, Mitsuki might’ve lost his composure. He wasn’t sure what love was, but if even strangers thought he was in love, perhaps that was the case?
“Perhaps” he says, pulling his bag closer to himself not so subtly. He can pinpoint the moment that Nami realized that he’d known exactly what she was up to.
“You’re no fun” she says, sticking out her tongue. Mitsuki grins “So, where is this stunning beauty of yours?”
“I don’t know, actually” he admits “She’s late.”
“Maybe you got ditched?” the blond says, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he was pleased about the idea “Too bad; I would’ve liked to meet such a stunning beauty!”
Mitsuki doesn’t answer to that, considering that it might be time for him to go look for her.
As if someone heard his thoughts, the door to the bar slams open with a shout: “Mitsuki, you here?!”
Mitsuki didn’t need to look to know it was Chou Chou. Normally, he’d cringe at her way of arriving as they weren’t supposed to attract attention, but having been worried, he lets it slide this time.
“Ah, she’s here” he mutters, standing up “Excuse me.”
Before he’d turned his back to them, Mitsuki had caught the disbelieving looks on the faces of the two he’d talked with, gaping at him and Chou Chou. He supposed he wasn’t surprised; it’d become clear to him over the years that Chou Chou at her full power, when she wasn’t pretending to be something she was not, wasn’t what most people considered attractive. But it’s not like he cared; gender, appearance, such things were irrelevant to him.
“There you are” Chou Chou says as he reaches her, already dragging him out the door the second he does despite the rain outside. As soon as they’re a bit further from the bar, she asks: “Were you flirting with that girl at the bar? We’re not supposed to attract attention, you know.”
“Funny you’d say that after how you came to the bar” Mitsuki chuckles “And no, I was not. Not my type.”
“Oh?” Chou Chou asks “Then what is your type?”
Mitsuki grins at her.
“I think you already know”
The woman blushes before clearing her throat.
“We have a mission, you know. Save it for later!”
Mitsuki chuckles, biting back the urge to tease Chou Chou of her red face. She was right; they had a mission.
He’d have plenty of chances to tease her after it.
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mandalorewhore · 4 years ago
Text
Common Ground
Part 2 of Hunter  (formerly Hunter and Prey)
Tumblr media
gif by @themandaloriandaily​
Rating: Explicit Content Warnings: SMUT, Oral Sex (fem recieving), Cock Warming, Descriptions of violence/blood , Edging (maybe?), Dirty talk, Praise kink, Size kink, Big Dick Mando, Blindfolded Sex Words: 11.7k AO3 LINK
Summary: Reader and Mando land on Nevarro to meet with Karga
A/N: im sorry to niceguy!Karga in season 2
This would be less awkward if you knew how to talk to the man. 
The awkwardness is probably one-sided though you doubt he’s brooding over what the two of you did last night in this cockpit. You’re not a blushing virgin afraid to talk about sex, but it would be nice if you actually knew  something you both had in common, since you’re going to be spending a lot of time together. The extent of your conversations have been about sex, mechanics, and killing people. That’s pretty fitting for the two of you, you suppose. He is… Officially? your bounty hunting partner now.
However, he’s very comfortable in silence, so much so that it seems to be a central part of his character, much like the armor strapped to his body. Is being reserved a part of the Mandalorian creed too, or does he just prefer it? Does he want to talk about how you sucked his dick mere hours after abandoning your jobs as mercenaries? What is he thinking about right now? You could probably ask him all this, you know. Your internal argument is boiling over like a forgotten pot as you ruminate in the passenger seat of the Crest’s cockpit.
    You woke up in his arms a few hours ago, curled up in the pilot seat together, your face feeling a bit grimey due to  not scrubbing it clean after he gave you that facial. Feeling cozy in the quiet moments that follow waking, you snuggled in closer to his warmth, still only separated by the thin layer of his undershirt. You started when his palm squeezed your shoulder, his way of letting you know he was already awake. 
There’s an unspoken feeling about the way he fell asleep in your presence. You may work together now, but you’re still virtual strangers and Mando is a professional. You doubt he’ll pass out in front of you again. 
Slumped in your seat, you mull over every second that passed between the two of you. Meanwhile, he’s just sitting there like a lump of metal. Unaffected. Impassive. If you didn’t have first-hand proof of the deliciously warm skin he hides, you would’ve passed him off  as a droid. 
Actually when you think about it… when it comes to conversation topics, maybe metal is the place to start. As in, the ship that is now your impromptu home for the foreseeable future. You’ve gleaned that the Crest is like home to the Mandalorian and, come to think of it, he seemingly opted to sleep on his little cot down in the ship’s hull instead of taking up a bunk back on the space station. If he were anyone else, the gesture would’ve been ostentatious. It gave the impression that he was ready to leave at any moment. 
But no one wants to confront a Mandalorian.
Bringing up the Crest is probably a safe option and you’re knowledgeable about ships. You can hold your ground when it comes to the technicalities of mechanics. Plus, you can be charming when you want to be; on merc jobs you weren’t put into the femme fatal role for no reason.  Although you’ve casually lured men to their death, you’re more nervous to chat with Mando. But you’re determined to try. Try to be appealing...
    “I’m curious… Once I have some credits saved up, would you be interested in adding mods to the Razor Crest? I haven’t gotten a good look yet, but I’m floating some ideas around.” You bite your lip automatically out of apprehension, but hoping it comes across as playful. You’re not out of line or anything; it's been hours since you last exchanged any words so it's not like you’ve been chatting his ear off. Still, you worry that you sound extra loud to someone who’s spent so long in stillness. 
“That may be useful. What were you thinking?” Mando’s response comes only a second later, and even though he faces the cockpit’s transparisteel windows as he speaks, you’re giddy at his swiftness to respond. 
    “Well, I would love to touch her up a little. There are some issues with the hyper-drive and coms that could be fixed pretty easy. As for modifying, I saw that you installed a mobile carbonite-freezing chamber for bounties?” He nods to affirm your guess. “I could move that ‘round to utilize the space for storage and better suit two people living here. Either install a bed that can swing down or-”
    “Separate beds are unnecessary. We can sleep in shifts or share the bunk.”
    “O-oh. Sound’s good.” You gulp, feeling a little warm. The implication makes you sweat even if he shot down your idea. “Well, upgrading the deflector shields would be a good idea. Protect her better, plus efficient heat dispersal during atmospheric flight would let us jump into hyperspace faster. If we need to run or just want to fuck off somewhere.”
    “Hm. That is a good idea. She’s fast but there's always room for improvement.” He accentuates his response by patting the console lightly, and something about the way his hand lingers gently on the surface reminds you of a parent touseling their child’s hair. A smile stretches across your face, finally relaxing a little after being so tense all morning. For someone that you thought was so serious, he sometimes reveals a sentimental side to his personality. It makes you want to ask him more, to know more about him and how he thinks, but you’re so nervous about asking him anything even slightly personal, anything that has to do with his preferences or opinions. Your short exchange about his ship went pretty smoothly you think, maybe you can ask him more, you’ll just stay on the topic of starships. That should be fine. 
    “Do you have a dream ship?” You blurt, sounding a little less casual than you were trying for. Oops. 
    He takes longer to respond this time, seemingly thinking the question over. “No. Maybe when I was younger. I have the Crest now, there isn’t a need to plan for another ship.” 
    There's that seriousness again, the way he responds to you makes you think that he has never had to answer hypothetical questions before. It makes perfect sense, the average person doesn’t go around asking tall, intimidating Mandolorians about their hobbies. What a Gonk Droid. I’m jealous he can get away with talking like that. Still, you do want to continue this conversation if only to hear his voice. “Nothin’ about planning Mando, just a little make-believe. Personally, I like an A-Wing, the RZ-1 variant is classic even if the 2 is flashier. X-Wings are neat too, minus the pigs flying them.” 
    A weird huff passes through his voice filter and he finally turns to face you. You’re caught off guard by the sudden eye-visor contact, so it’s a second later when you process what that noise was, and the realization makes you positively giddy. “Oh shit, did I make a Mandolorian laugh? Am I on Spice?” 
    “That’s funny- pigs don’t deserve the nice Starfighters.” He laughs again, clearer this time while warmth feelings bloom within you at his reaction. It’s so unbelievable to you that he’s here laughing at something you said. You never once heard a reaction like that from him before now. “Those fast ships are impressive and great for combat, but I need a bigger space… a YV-929 would suit my needs.”
    “Of course it would, there’s like 1000 guns on that blocky thing. Plus the Empire banned it and you like to break rules.” The ship he named is virtually the same build as the Razor Crest, just with more guns, which is amusing to you. 
Creature of habit, you think, finding yourself leaning subtly closer to his body with every exchange. You don’t think you’re imagining him doing the same.
    “16. Could add more though.” He murmurs and something in his voice makes you think that he isn’t being entirely humorous. 
Maker, he is probably mapping out all the baster mods he could stick on that bulky freighter. You’re still amused by his very literal sense of things. You settle back in your seat to observe the hyperspace light streaking across the cockpit, a comfortable silence falling over the cockpit.
As you sit there and ruminate, the topic of weapons brings forth a vague memory in your mind. 
Someone once told you that Mandalorians aren’t considered great fighters due only to reputation and rumor. Most people are aware that armor and weaponry is part of the Mandalorian culture, but fewer are aware that such items have religious significance, going much deeper than a learned skill. Mandalorians are revered as great warriors not just because of their physical training, but because fighting and waging battle is a form of prayer. 
Despite finding rumors about Mandalorians to be generally exaggerated, you feel this one may be true.
 You’re curious but afraid to ask him to elaborate. The fact that neither of you exchanged more than a few words when you worked together is proof of his preferred privacy. Even though you’re pretty sure he wouldn’t mind giving you some sort of explanation about his culture, you decide to avoid any personal questions. 
Plus you really don’t want to come across as asking about his helmet.
    You break the silence shyly, trying to smoothly bring up a different topic. “Down in the hull… I haven’t explored much of your ship, I don’t want to come across as snooping. But I’m wondering, what sort of manpower have you got stored here?” 
“I installed an armory. Do you want to see it?” 
Fuck yes you want to check it out, his personal collection must be a wet dream.
“Yes, I’d love to!” You reply excitedly. The weapons Mando carried were always fascinating. You especially admired that rifle he slung across his back. You’ve never seen it in action but you heard it evaporated its targets. The two spokes at the end made you wonder how it shot. There has to be different settings on the gun, it would be impractical to evaporate all your targets especially if you need to bring back bounties, dead or alive. The bullets he slung across his chest must be paired with the rifle based on their size and shape when you compare them to the rifle chamber. What sort of charge do they contain to completely disintegrate its victims?
You’re tapping your fingers on your bottom lip, calculating how the rifle might function when his leg brushes past you. Glancing up in surprise, you realize he’s already headed to the cockpit ladder, twisting his upper body as he turns his helmet to look back at you.
“Come on.” You’re unable to read his face but something in his body language makes you think he’s amused by you. Flushing red, you scramble upright from the leather seat to follow him down to his armory. He slides first down the ladder, not bothering to use the rungs. Being unfamiliar with the area you opt to carefully descend one portion at a time, unaware of the view you’re giving Mando. By the time you reach the bottom, he’s diverted his gaze. 
Tall body moving to a panel on the wall, he punches in a four-digit code, prompting a smooth metal cabinet on the opposite wall to slide open with a hiss. You shake your head at this. The man has a tiny metal cot but he installed a hydraulic system for his weapons cabinet. But when you look closer at the exhibit your jaw falls open.
Oh my… Now that’s sexy.
The two side doors hang open to reveal a space in the middle filled with large blasters. His mid-sized guns are stacked horizontally above each other while the longer rifles lay vertically to the right of the center display. The doors contain smaller handguns of varying design and purpose. Each weapon is unique, there is not a single inch of wasted space given to any blaster if it doesn’t have distinct properties. Eyes locked on the arsenal, you scoot forward and make grabby hands at the cabinet. 
“Oo, they’re beautiful! Can I- May I see?” You are immediately drawn to a cylindrical pistol mounted at the very top of the stack, the gun’s sight a smooth metal and grip warm brown. Despite its deadly properties, it is a fucking gun, something about it looks soft to the touch. You’re finding more and more that you enjoy the juxtaposition of lethality and softness. 
Even though you’ve made no specification on which gun you want to hold, Mando reaches out and selects the very gun you’re attracted to and hands it to you. I should stare less, it's like he can read my mind. Despite resolving to do so the thought is fuzzy, unimportant when you’re so excited about handling one of the prettiest pistols you’ve ever seen. Mando watches you from a few feet away. 
“Good choice. I usually conceal-carry that blaster since it’s small on me, looks like the perfect size for you though.” Mando’s compliment has you grinning up at him, feeling giddy and full of light, but you’re quickly drawn back to look at the gun. Turning the weapon over in your hands you admire the polished metal, the texture making a satisfying noise as you run your fingers on its silky surface. The weight is perfectly balanced as you aim it at the wall, lining up the sight with a seam in the metal paneling. 
“You can carry it from now on.” 
What? It’s a good thing you know your trigger safety otherwise you would’ve pulled the trigger in shock, probably ricocheting the blast into your head. The giddy energy drains from you, replaced by apprehension and confusion. Why is he giving me so much shit? 
Of course you’re thankful. You’re incredibly thankful to be on the Razor Crest at all; however you can’t help feeling as if you owe Mando on a level where you’re incapable of repaying him. He didn’t have to take you with him when he dropped Ran’s crew, he didn’t have to indulge your sexual fantasies, he didn’t have to comfort you, didn’t have to partner with you, and he doesn’t need to give you this blaster. It is certainly a collectible, a rarity. A Mandalorian wouldn’t have it on hand if it were some run of the mill E-11 handed out to every Stormtrooper in the Empire. 
But what can you even say to him? It would be incredibly awkward if you refused him right now. Your mind races.
Best focus on the easy stuff. As long as he doesn’t drop me off on some wasteland I’ll be fine. That blaster is too pretty to decline so with your willfulness broken by aesthetic pleasure, you holster the gun on your hip, opposite the blaster you already carry. 
“Thank you. I’ll put it to good use.” You try to inject as much gratefulness into your voice as possible, even though you still feel odd about taking it.
“Yes, you will. Get ready and come back to the cockpit, we’ll be on Nevarro in a hour.”
------------------------------------------
 You’re used to men like Greef Karga but that doesn’t mean they’ll stop being annoying.
The way he speaks like he’s owed something from you just because you’re listening, the way it’s clear that every decision he makes is in self-interest, the way he eyes the women around him, yourself included. He isn’t outright dismissive like some men; such as the guard placed behind him only having eyes for your partner; but you can tell he either doesn’t take you seriously or he is more concerned about how he can sexualize you. 
He definitely isn’t treating Mando as a joke. Annoying.
          But, it’s not all bad. You got a kick out of how a hush came over the dusty cantina when the Mandalorian entered. He had been walking behind you which, with a little imagination, gave the effect that they were all reacting to your presence instead. Even though in reality, no one had ever reacted to you that way unless they were leering. You like how they fear him. It's a turn-on. 
You wish they would fear you like that.
          Someone says your name, startling you out of your thoughts. You realize that everyone at the table is looking at you expectantly but you didn’t hear the question at all. Kriff, you need to show yourself up more. Mando’s reputation is practically handing you the job but you still need to sell your skills to get anything decent out of Karga. He’s so stingy with the quarry's, even with Mando despite how he kissed the Mandalorian’s ass when greeting him. You figure that Mando didn’t take on bounties often, which put his skills in high demand.
          “Uhh, sorry. A bit distracted. Can you repeat the question, please?” You reply, accentuating the please with a bat of your lashes while looking Karga full in the face. If he’s going to objectify you, you may as well play into it. Smiling, he leans forward and pushes a glass of Spotchka into your hands, lingering a little longer than necessary when your fingers meet.
          “I asked if you wanted a drink. Take it, I can see you need one.” He winks at you while you stare indignantly, wondering what he means by that. It’s not like you’re sweating bullets in here. You’ve been here countless times on countless planets. Seedy cantinas with seedier people. Hopefully, he’s just flirting and doesn’t think you’re nervous. Maybe the flirting is backfiring.
You grip the glass and wet your mouth with the drink, enjoying the burn for a moment. Mando tilts his helmet at the way you accept Karga’s drink, seemingly looking sideways at you. Narrowing your eyes at him, you drink again and turn back to Karga.
          “Thank you, the Spotchka here is lovely.” It’s average, but flattery can’t hurt. Karga laughs robustly at this.
          “It’s no Alderaan wine, but it’ll do.” He drains his glass then pours himself another, filling it to the brim before turning to your partner. “So, Mando! Word travels fast around here. I take it you’re a full-time guild member now! I’m not surprised, always took you for the loner type. In fact, I already updated your status to full-time before you landed.” Karga waits for a response from Mando but the man sits silently at your side. Unbothered, Karga continues, “But, I am surprised you stayed that long with Ran in the first place. Must be the pretty ladies he keeps around.”
          The comment makes you cringe but you still smile brightly back at him since what he is inferring is clear. Can he just register you already?
          “Not alone. She’s with me.” Mando’s reply is short and flat, with no reaction to how you’re attempting to work Karga’s attention, nor at the revelation that Mando’s departure from mercenary work has apparently spread across the sector. 
          Karga’s smile twists into a smirk as he glances between you and Mando, looking at both of you as if he wants to fit your bodies together like a puzzle. “Well, well, well Mando. Didn’t think you were the type. Is she a bed warmer?”
          Your grip tightens on the glass. What the fuck is he implying? You’re rising in your seat, about to let loose on Karga when a gloved hand settles on your shoulder and pulls you down. Excuse me? Do I have to go off on everyone here? Why the fu-
          “She’s my hunting partner, my equal. Don’t insult us again.” Oh okay, you don’t know why he stopped you and he still doesn’t sound all that offended, but at least he’s defending you. 
Not wanting to be spoken for, you add on, “I’m prepared with my information so that you can register me in the Bounty Hunters Guild. Pull up your holo, I’m done with the small talk.” Your back is rod-straight in the cantina booth, trying to look down at the Guild leader even if he’s seated higher than you. “Also, your Spotchka is shit.”
          Karga’s is unphased at your reactions, even rolling his eyes. He replies bluntly, “If you’re going to join my guild then you need to prove to me that I’m not wasting my pucks on you. Don’t rely on the Mandalorian’s reputation. If you aren't out of some brothel then you were a mercenary, were you not?”
At first, the audacity of Karga has you fuming, ready to stand again despite whatever Mando wants. However, as you’re looking out of the corner of your eye at the crowd you realize that the bodies filling the cantina are no longer milling around quite as naturally. It's subtle, to an untrained ear and eye not much has changed. The chatter around you remains at a consistent volume and no one is blatantly staring. But your senses are sharp enough to tell that everyone in this room is On Greef Karga’s side. If a fight broke out you’d likely lose, even with Mando being worth ten men and the shiny new blaster strapped to your hip. 
Also, your prospects with the guild would be fucked if you fought everyone right now, which is the whole reason you’re here. You have to play nice and it infuriates you… But you still need the job. 
Taking a deep breath to quiet your anger you look to your left away from Karga, only to be startled by Mando’s visor locked directly on you. Sharing a look, one that you can only guess the meaning behind, you find the patience to calm down. You turn back to Karga, locking eyes steadily.
“Sorry for insulting your drinks, that was petty of me. But I am not sorry about how you implied that Mando would keep some poor sex slave around, nor am I sorry for reacting that way. I’d like to start over… If you’ll accept my apology, I’ll accept yours.” You can’t help letting some stubbornness slip into your words. If he’s supposed to be your boss then you aren’t going to keep up a pretense of respect after that. Not without an apology. 
You’ve never given much thought to how you look to other people, how you affect the crowd when you enter a room. It’s not that you don’t think you’re pretty. Being assigned roles by Ran that allowed you to dress up and distract targets was a direct affirmation of how you looked, even if they were creeps. But when you walked into this place, the only heads that turned were for the Mandalorian. You've never had the experience of being scary to other people. You’re always having to prove yourself and show everyone that you’re someone who can handle what’s handed to them, an equal to every other hard character in the galaxy’s Outer Rim... it’s tiresome. 
Karga is looking at you again, a little differently this time. 
    “I respect you for being blunt. Do accept my apology.” He sounds sincere enough so you nod, lips drawn tight. Heavy metal suddenly settles on your knee, Mando’s vambrace is laying across the soft flesh on your upper thigh. He squeezes, oh stars. Now you’re feeling flushed for other reasons than anger. 
    “Do I get an apology?” Mando asks Karga quietly, voice frustratingly mild just like the other two times he’s spoken up in this booth. The other man grins at Mando, more jolly than he should be considering who he insulted. 
    “My apologies, Mando! Do stay with the guild, your skills are irreplaceable! I’m afraid my jokes can go too far.`` His response is light and humorous but no one is fooled by the tone. A Mandalorian is far too valuable to lose. 
    After a few seconds pass between the two men you clear your throat, annoyed by everyone dancing around each other while you’re still not signed up to hunt bounties. It’s your only purpose here but whatever. Karga directs his smile at you, pulling his holo from behind him out of his guard’s hand.
    “I haven’t forgotten about you, sweetheart. Now, I’m going to put your basic details in… Do you happen to be registered elsewhere, such as under an Identichip?” You shake your head; you always worked behind a moniker. “Great! That makes this easy for me. Simply provide a name, real or not, and I’ll set up a chain code so quarries are tied to your data.” 
    You provide your name while Karga fiddles around on the device. It’s unclear if it is really that complicated to work the thing or if he is just stalling. This feels a little too easy so far. Didn’t he make a huge fuss about proving yourself? You decide to ask outright, wanting to bring it up instead of waiting around for him to finish.
    “I thought I needed to prove myself to you. Aren’t you worried about wasting pucks?” You were trying to tease but the bite in your voice can’t be helped. You worry you might’ve gone too far when Karga looks up at you with open annoyance.
    “Do you want to go out back and shoot a few bottles down? Seems childish to me.” He huffs out a short breath and returns to his holo. “I know that you worked with Ran’s crew on mercenary missions which grants you some cred. You can tell me what your specialties were on such jobs and it might convince me to give you the mid-level pucks instead of entry.”
    This is unfair, everyone knows it, he’s the one who told you to prove yourself and now he’s making you feel stupid for reminding him. He’s the one who was so concerned about wasting his precious pucks. But now that you’re here… you might actually be able to talk Karga into giving you a better quarry. Taking a deep breath, you start to list your qualifications.
    “On mercenary jobs, I usually took a stealth role due to my stature. For certain missions, I would dress to infiltrate a group, sometimes carrying hidden weapons but mostly I would conceal poison in my jewelry, skin powder, or anything similar. I’m a great shot and am knowledgeable about starships. When I first started I had to work my way up the ranks, the lowest being mechanics. Within a year I managed to go from handywoman to assassin... There’s more if you want to hear, although I can’t directly prove anything.” You wish you could actually show all these skills to him instead of just telling him. Karga is right, shooting down dusty bottles like some sort of carnival game would be pretty useless, but at least it would feel more substantial than this. 
You’re about to open your mouth and tell Karga more when you’re interrupted by Mando, and he finally sounds emotive, no longer inscrutable in tone. “This is all true. I haven’t worked closely with her on every job but I noticed her when I did. Her stealth was critical to our success during hits. She often worked on my starship. The Crest always came out in better shape once she looked at it.” You’re not sure what emotion is in his voice but whatever it is, it reminds you that his hand is still resting on your knee under the table.
Trying not to smile too widely, you bring your hand down on top of the one on your leg, giving it a pat of thanks. Karga’s eyes follow your movement but thankfully he stays silent, leaning back with a pensive look.
“Alright, this is all very interesting. Tell you what, and don’t take this as an insult, you can either have two entry-level pucks or one mid-tier. It all adds up to the same amount of credits, however, the mid-tier quarries will boost your rank… Mid also comes with a time constraint.” 
There’s always a catch with this man you think, a little displeased, but at the same time, you understand that he can’t maintain his business if all pucks were given away in good faith. Mid-tier seems like the best deal, and you aren’t just here for the money. Presumably, this will be your job for a while so you may as well aim ambitiously. 
“What are the last known coordinates of the mid-tier bounties?” You ask him, trying to sound like you’ve not already decided to take it. 
“One for Corellia and one for Mimban. Neighboring planets.” You grimace, recognizing the names. How lovely, you get to choose between two shitholes. Karga is correct, the planets are right next to each other, so at least you don’t have to worry about fuel. Corellia is more dangerous but the planet is explored thoroughly when compared to Mimban and you’ve already been to Corellia once.
“I’ll take the Corellian bounty, thank you.” Karga slides the puck across the table with an unpleasant scrape before drawing out three more, stacking them in front of the Mandalorian one by one.
“Two are bail jumpers but the credits for each are decent. I also threw in one S level criminal, let's see how you do with that one now that you’re dedicated to my wonderful guild.” Karga grins at Mando so widely that it is almost a grimace. Well, he didn’t have to beg for the good pucks. Yeesh… Mando’s arm lifts from your knee and he gathers the pucks wordlessly.
Mando moves to leave, rising quickly from the booth and leaving you scrambling behind him, slipping your puck in the pocket on your pants.  He’s at the door by the time you remember to say goodbye to Karga. Not wanting to be rude even if you don’t really like him, you turn and wave. “Um, bye! Take care.” 
He waves back. “You as well, girl.” 
A powerful hand grips your forearm and pulls you none too gently to the doors and out into the acrid, volcanic air.
----------------   
    It would be nice if the man who called you his equal an hour ago would tell you his plans. Instead, he had placed a small bag of credits in your palm and told you to go get some food and wait. You couldn’t find it in yourself to snap at him since you were starving, the last time you ate was probably several days ago, before Cantonica. Your hunger might explain the snippiness you’ve felt all day, actually.
    Having finished your meal of dubious-looking soup, you get up to explore a bit before heading back to the ship. The settlement is small and you think it may be the only town on the planet or at least the only one in the area. The land around you is flat enough to see for miles. It’s impressive that Mando disappeared considering the lack of terrain to hide behind. He must be in the city somewhere. 
    As you wander through the busy main strip, peering at different vendors and booths, you start to feel dejected. Mando defended you, spoke up for you, and even backed up your claims so that you’d look better in front of Karga. Then he just… disappeared. Somewhere. No communication. That's fine.
    It’s a little worrisome, the speed at which you’ve become attached to the man. You’ve been together for less than three days, and you already feel weird being alone. You know that you’re being unfair to yourself right now, it's not abnormal to feel lost on a foreign planet plus you literally just lost everything you’ve worked for as a mercenary. But in the end...
    Being here, alone and penniless, reminds you of home, the one you had as a child. It’s something you try to forget about. 
    Swallowing the memories away into that off-limits area within yourself, you decide to leave the bustling road and wander down a dingy alley. Probably not the smartest move but you do have two blasters on your hip. The sounds of the crowd fade in the background as you wander farther and farther down the twisting path. 
    It’s almost funny how quickly things go south. 
Mere minutes later, you find yourself backed up into a wall with two Rodians aiming their blasters at you, your huddled form reflected in their massive, black eyes. One of them jabs your arm with his gun saying something in that grating, echoey voice that most Rodians speak with. You get that they’re both aiming deadly weapons at you but you’re honestly just irritated. 
    “I don’t have credits on me fellas, you can search me but you won't find shit.” They must understand Basic because one of them pins you to the wall while the other pats your body down, searching for anything valuable. Pulling the empty credit pouch from your belt and throwing it to the ground, he twists you to face the wall, grabbing at one of your blasters. The rare one that Mando just gave you. You start to panic now, the positioning of your bodies making you nervous as you realize how vulnerable you are, fearful that they aren’t just looking for something to steal. Kicking backward at the Rodian pinning your arms, you start to struggle against them, trying hard to wiggle free and pull your other blaster.
    You must’ve connected with a kneecap because you hear a sickening crunch at the same time the Rodian howls, falling to the ground. His companion makes a furious sound then lashes out at your face, fingertips just barely connecting with your cheek as you duck slightly too late. Your face stings and feels wet, his gloves seem to have sharp points on the ends. You pray that they aren’t spiked with poison. 
    The injured member is still preoccupied with his hyperextended knee, granting you just enough time to pull the other blaster from your hip before he joins his partner and turns on you. You throw yourself to the ground, aiming at the same time and squeezing the trigger right before you hit the earth. The shot connects with the Rodian who swung at you and he falls to the ground, shriek cut short. Twisting to your side so you can attempt an evasive roll, you attempt to line the sight up with the chest of your living assailant but your shoulder connects with debris on the ground, jerking it out of your smooth movement. 
The blast misses by a few inches. 
The pain from whatever you landed on shoots to your fingertips, numbing them. Noticing your distraction, he hurls his body at you thankfully unable to jump accurately due to the injury you gave him. Despite that, he lands on your legs and starts to drag you toward him, abandoning his blaster in his rage while dirt billows around your struggling bodies.
    You’re terrified, fear making you clumsy as you handle your blaster. You don’t want to die being strangled by some alien in this dirty alley but the numbness in your fingers has you moving slower than usual, hand heavy as you try to aim again. Sucking in a deep breath you scream, hoping that someone on the busy strip will hear you. But no one is coming for you and there is no time to wait. Panicked, you fire in the direction of the Rodian, not taking care to calculate possible ricochet points in the area. A shot connects, his heavy body falling on your hips, dead.
    Fingers still numb, you hurtle upwards and try to wipe the dust out of your eyes to look at the bodies. The first Rodian you shot is a few feet away, slumped against the wall you were pinned to, blaster marks littering the brick surface from your panicked shots. Disgusted, you shove the dead body off of your legs and stand up.
 As you analyze the second alien you realize something doesn’t add up here. 
Somehow the blaster shot that killed him seems to be on the back of his head. How is that possible? Did I manage to reflect it off something and hit him from behind? You’re approaching the body to look for other possible causes of death when a large shadow leaps from the rooftop, landing heavily in a cloud of dust. You curse and aim your blaster at his head, pulling the trigger before you realize who it is.
He’s lucky his helmet is pure Beskar.
“Mando! What the fuck, I could’ve killed you!” Stomach feeling like it’s full of rocks, you march up to the man and slam a fist into his chest plate, hard. Looking up into his visor you feel a flash of misguided anger, lifting your fist to pound on his armor again. “Where the fuck were you anyway?!”
A large hand flashes up to catch your wrist before it can connect with his chest. He looks at you darkly. “Do you always hit people to thank them?” he asks, while his other hand reholsters the silver blaster back onto your hip.
“What do you mean, you-” The pieces connect in your mind, the impossible blaster shot in the back of the head of the Rodian and Mando’s positioning on the roof. 
He saved your ass. Again. 
You already realize your anger is misdirected, he didn’t do anything to warrant it. But the adrenaline and fear paired with your entire experience on Nevarro have wound you up to the point of lashing out. You shouldn’t be mad at him, and you should definitely apologize for almost killing him. Also, you should be thanking him for saving you even though you probably would’ve survived the mugging anyway. That criminal was unarmed at the end there. 
But you don’t care. You weirdly want to argue with him, to try and break that cool attitude he’s been maintaining nearly all day.
“I could’ve gotten him easily. If I didn’t hurt my arm he would’ve been dead before you arrived, also you didn’t answer my fucking question. I thought I was your equal, Mando.” You mock his earlier phrasing from the cantina, hoping he’ll snap and say something back. But he doesn’t.
Instead, he does something so strange that all the turbulent emotions you’ve been harboring fly out of your body in one instant.
Bringing up one glove to cover your eyes, he holds the hand you punched him with at the bottom edge of his helmet, pushing it up with your clasped fingers. There is a quiet hiss and you can feel the weight of metal digging into your knuckles as the Beskar lifts. Your fingers meet with soft lips, coarse facial hair brushing your skin as he presses a kiss on the blossoming bruises there. Heat rushes to your cheeks and you suddenly can’t remember what you were yelling about. 
It’s odd. You’ve seen the most intimate parts of him but only now, having felt his lips, do you truly recognize how rawly human he is. 
Too soon- he draws away, the helmet settles back on his head. You step back blinking as the light hits your eyes, cradling your hand to your chest like it's been hurt. Which you guess it has. You can’t really feel it. 
Unable to meet his gaze you stare at his boots, “You’re weird and I don’t understand you.” Your words sound embarrassingly breathless.
    He chuckles quietly. “Good.” And after a beat of silence- “Do I get an apology?” 
Annoyed at how he mirrored you throwing his words back at him, you look up glaring, but you’re unable to put any actual heat into your halfhearted expression. You’re still thinking about how soft his lips felt plus, you actually feel bad for lashing out at him.
“Yes, um, I’m sorry Mando, I was only mad because I was scared. I actually could’ve killed you, and those guys almost killed me- or worse.” You shrug, eyes round as you look at the violent scene in the alley. “Plus Karga is an asshole and you disappeared, telling me to wait around like a kid. I was in a bad mood.”
“Yeah.” He offers shortly. Is he gonna say more or- “Karga is an asshole.”
“...Is that all you’re going to address.”
“You’re a good shot. You could’ve killed these muggers without me, I just didn’t want you hurt.” He smoothes away a strand of hair from your cheek, tucking it behind your ear before gripping your chin, twisting your head to look at the scratches the Rodian left. “Pretty girl.”
Flushing red again while frozen in his grip, you stand there with him as he examines your face. His gaze is piercing, and you don’t know what he’s staring at. It doesn’t take this long to examine a face. You think he’s just looking at you.
“Let’s get back to the ship, that scratch needs some Bacta gel.” He drops his arm abruptly causing you to sway at the loss of an anchor. Hand flashing out to grip his bicep, you regain your balance before starting to pull him along, heading to the street. 
----------------   
The walk back to the Crest is short.
 You don’t know your way around this city but shipyards are easy enough to find. You recognize the signs pointing it out after your time spent as a mechanic, streets gradually widening to form into a flat strip of land for the vessels, heavy machinery appearing here and there. As you walk, you oddly find yourself getting dizzy, steps starting to drag as you realize you may have injured yourself in the struggle. You can’t recall if you hit your head or if anyone hurt you aside from the gash on your cheek, which has begun to throb. Did you knock your head on the alley wall? 
The Mandalorian grunts behind you when you trip, quickly overtaking your pace to throw your arm over his elbow, then walking at your side and subtly holding you steady. The Razor Crest rises into view over the horizon, so you speed up, relieved. You want to sit down so badly that you even try to jog but Mando holds you back. His helmet ducks down next to your ear.
“Don’t overexert yourself. I want to make sure that scratch isn’t poisoned.” He murmurs, voice overwhelmingly low. Your stomach twists with desire and surprise at the tone of it, he sounds like he’s flirting with you. 
“Does danger turn you on or something?” You blurt, wondering if there is a pattern to the man's desires. He did let you suck him off right after yesterday's conflict and now he seems to be coming onto you after an attempted mugging. Is this a Mandalorian thing? Weirdo. He doesn’t answer you, but the ship is right there so you break away and march up to the lowering ramp. 
You pause in the middle of the hull noticing some changes. The small cot seems to be upgraded, a patterned blanket is folded at the end and there is even a pillow. That sorry excuse of a fresher is more orderly too, shower hose hung from the ceiling like an actual, well, shower. There’s a sliding metal door for privacy installed on the entrance now too. The previously barren hull has a touch of coziness now, not enough to get in the way of efficiency, but everything is just a little more livable. It is unlikely that he did this just because you live with him now but the gesture is still thoughtful.
“Is this what you were doing?” You ask excitedly, walking across the room to sit on the end of the cot. 
“Not the entire time.” He answers vaguely, fiddling with his vambrace to close the ramp and flick the lights on. You just sigh in response, laying back against the bed, the thin mattress has a soft squish that cradles your sore body. Eyes sliding shut you take in the lovely sensation for a few moments. A shadow covers the light behind your eyelids. You open them to peek at the end of the bed, already feeling a blush hot on your cheeks.
Mando is standing there, towering over you with his legs just brushing your dangling lower half. He leans over your frame, arm reaching over you like he’s going to prop himself on top of your body. Your heart pounds as he comes close enough to settle his hand next to your head, helmet hovering right above your forehead. The visor tilts down to look at you frozen underneath him, heat pooling in your lower belly. An almost inaudible hum comes through the voice filter sounding like the beginning of a word as if he were about to say something but decided against it. 
You find your voice, asking him in a trembling whisper. ‘Wha-what? Did you say something?”
He makes that low noise again, replying, “Those scratches need Bacta,” before he gently shoves his hand under your shoulder and pulls, sitting you upright at the end of the cot. 
Your eyes are round, lips pursed in confusion. Honestly, you forgot all about that. 
“O-Oh yeah…” You manage to stutter out as Mando backs up from the opening, making his way to the storage shelves to rummage around. He comes back to the cot with a tin box, undoing the clasps to fish out a tube of gel and gauze. The imagery of medical equipment reminds you of the throbbing on your cheek, which is now accompanied by a throbbing in your cunt. Very conflicting feelings.
“There’s no discoloration or swelling, you’re likely not poisoned.” He starts wiping at your jaw with a wet fabric that smells of chemicals, cleaning off the rust-colored blood that dried there. “How are you feeling?”
“Ummm, fine pretty much.” His gentle motions make it hard to think, the swiping over your skin is so gentle that you’re zoning out. That is until he reaches the actual wound, which stings harshly from whatever liquid is saturating the fabric. You flinch, “Ouch! Well, it hurts now.”
“That means it's working.” Mando picks up the gel and dabs it on your cheek which helps to soothe the sting. “You say you feel fine yet you were stumbling around a minute ago. Are you sure you’re alright?” 
His question is sweet but you don’t like how he points out your loss of balance. It both concerns you and is slightly embarrassing. Are you alright? You aren't sure, the stumbling could’ve been from a number of things, exhaustion, blood loss, or any other affliction. You feel worried now, grabbing at Mando’s free arm and locking eyes with the visor.
“I-I’m not sure… I’m kinda freaked out, is it possible that a toxin could have a delayed-release? What if I kneel over while we’re in hyperspace?” You finish the sentence a little high-pitched, unable to hide the worry in your voice. The Mandalorian circles your wrist with his fingers, bringing your hand to rest on top of your leg and placing his palm over it. His thumb rubs soothingly over your knuckles. 
“I don’t think you’re in any danger. I’ll take a blood sample for testing then we can stay on Nevarro for an hour, just in case.” You make a sad noise when he removes his hand from yours, but he’s already sifting through the box of medical supplies, probably to find something to test your blood with. Pulling out a tube he turns to you and holds your hand again, which makes you smile until you realize the tube contains a needlepoint to prick your finger with. Oh yuck, you hate needles. A life spent surrounded by danger and that tiny jab still makes you nervous. Breaking out into a cold sweat, you look away as Mando jabs your pointer finger; he must’ve noticed your reaction because his thumb starts up that soothing pattern again. 
“You’re a trained mercenary who is scared of needles?” His tone isn’t mocking, he seems to be trying to distract you. You just stick your tongue out at him instead of verbally responding, worried that your voice will shake. For some reason, Mando freezes at this, one arm halfway to the metal box, the tube of your blood in hand. It is so odd of him that you instantly take note of the reaction, wondering what you did. After a second he starts jerkily moving again, laying a small strip of paper down and dripping your blood on it. He pointedly keeps his gaze on the paper, refusing to face you even when you poke at him. 
‘What? I can’t stick my tongue out at you?” You prod him again trying to provoke a response. You gasp when his hand flashes up and stops your finger in its path, his thick fingers wrapped around your wrist just like when you punched him in the alley.
“Not,” he punctuates the word by dragging your hand down his waist, “When it reminds me of my cock down your throat.”
Your clit throbs again, slickness starting to gather between your legs. “Ummm… sorry?” You reply dumbly, throat going dry when he presses your palm into his growing bulge with a groan. 
His helmet glances at the strip of paper again. “Results are normal. We should still stay on the planet for an hour, just in case… How will we fill the time?”
You don’t know how to respond. Any former thoughts you had in your mind have flown away, leaving you blank. Staring at Mando, your mind races to form a decent response, but you must’ve hesitated for too long because he rolls his hips into your hand, fully hard now. 
Whining, you lean toward him reaching out your free hand to wrap around his neck, but he moves away from your touch leaving you flushed on the cot. His helmet looks you up and down, contemplating something.
“Are you feeling alright?” He asks for the second time, voice an octave lower than before. He picks up the roll of gauze, unused at this point, and holds it halfway lifted in the air in front of you. You aren’t sure what he is going to use it for, you assumed to dress the wound but from the way he is holding it, he must have other ideas. He would’ve already patched you up if this were just about the fabric’s typical function.
“I’m feeling fine. The gel is working.” It’s the truth. You can’t feel your cheek throbbing anymore. The Bacta in your bloodstream has a calming effect as well, soothing your anxiety from before. You feel good even, clear-minded and thrumming with energy. You can’t imagine what he is planning but you know you want him so badly it hurts. Your heart quickens.
“Mando…” You breathe, the way you say his name is both a question and a prompt. He answers by unrolling a strip of gauze and holding it out in front of your face. The breathing through his modulator is audible now, pants heavy with desire. 
“I cant- I can’t go slowly, if I fuck you right now. I want to try something else.” You nod fervently, completely ready for whatever he is thinking of doing to you however, you’re admittedly confused when he starts wrapping the gauze around your head and over your eyes. Mando unrolls several layers of gauze, a decently thick strip obstructing your vision to the point where little light penetrates the fabric. His voice startles you when you hear it right by your ear, asking, “Is this okay?”
You’re still wordless, nodding in response again. Mando hums and parts your legs with his hips, pulling you to his body and grinding against you. You mewl into the empty space in front of you and fling your arms out to find him, suddenly needing to feel as much of him as you can reach. 
Hands connecting with his shoulders, you pull him down hard as if you were going to kiss him. The helmet bumps you in the face instead. 
“Oops..” You murmur, embarrassed. Admittedly, you forgot all about the armor barrier between your bodies. Mando huffs softly and bumps you again, gently as to not hurt you with the heavy metal. 
“Wanna guess my idea? “ He asks, sliding down your body, his fingers trailing over every inch of you, touching you as if to replace him kissing down your body. He reaches your hips and pauses there. You can’t see anything but you’re guessing he is staring at you, the thin leggings don’t leave much to the imagination. A finger presses onto your clothed slit, running up and down the length of your pussy to gather the wetness there. You can feel yourself soaking through your clothing, Mando’s fingertip is gliding wetly along your folds as if you were unclothed. You arch into his touch, needing more from him; the overwhelming sensation has you falling back onto the cot, laying there with your legs parted and the Mandalorian still between your legs.
The world feels like it’s spinning for a multitude of reasons, first and foremost being the desire you feel for the man crouched before you. Other, more complex thoughts on the situation swirl in your mind, paralyzing you with their intensity. You honestly didn’t think he would want you sexually again, especially not so soon. It just didn’t make sense for your idea of the Mandalorian, the image you carry of him as a person, all based on your time together even if much of that time was spent living separate lives. He flirted and inferred to sex a few times today, plus there was that kiss he lay on your bruised knuckles earlier. He defended you, backed up your claims, and spoke of respecting you and your skills. He’s done so much for you today, but you’re still blindsided as you sit here before him, unseeing in more ways than one. Most of all... you can’t stop thinking about that kiss.
Seconds after you physically attacked him and he offers you a kiss. It was the absolute last outcome you expected from your efforts to taunt him, you wonder if he’s even allowed to do that considering his vow to never show his face. You knew he was actively sexual just from your awful experiences on the mercenary station, although you never gave much thought to that drive. It didn’t need much thought, in your opinion. He is a man after all. Face bared or hidden away from the galaxy he still has needs, even if he is devoted to a religion that you can barely fathom the depths of. Your wants and needs seem minuscule next to the enigma of the Mandalorian. 
This all seems unimportant when his fingers hook in the waistband of your leggings and pull. You whimper and lift your hips, trying desperately to speed up the process and bare yourself to him. The blasters you carry are still attached to your waist but you don’t try to remove them. Sex and guns pair together perfectly for the man.
Cool air hits your pussy at the same moment he moans low in his throat. “Fuck, look at you. Beautiful.” 
That reminds you, “Can’t look, can I? N-not like this…” You still weren’t sure about the gauze blindfold he secured over your eyes, your only idea so far is that he must be into this sort of thing. Not that you’re complaining. The temporary loss of sight has heightened every other sense you have, especially touch and sound. You’re certain you’ll remember every word of this encounter for the rest of your life. He’s complimented you several times over the past few days. Pretty. Beautiful. You’ll never forget that. 
“Still haven’t guessed?” The Mandalorian rumbles at your thigh, pulling your pants off your ankles and spreading your legs as wide as the cot doorway will allow. A short growl rips from his throat, his touch leaving your thighs much to your dismay as he fumbles with something. There is a heavy thud that you can't make sense of, he had to have set something large on the ground to make that noise but you don’t know what- oh. Oh, stars I can feel his breath. 
He took his helmet off. For you. The pieces are falling in place quickly but you can’t react to it- you can’t even breathe, every implication of his gesture setting your world ablaze. Your heart is pounding, arms stretched out from the tension you hold in your limbs, you need an anchor, anything-
There's a hot puff of air on your clit and gloveless fingers digging into your thighs. He must’ve removed those too.
It’s like you’ve been sucked into a stasis chamber, the buzz of your cerebral cortex halting all efforts to process what’s happening, enveloped in a place so quiet that you feel fucking crazy. The anticipation is killing you, you’re going to die here and that’s alright, that’s fine, you’d love to die here, in fact- wait where is he? His face is somewhere near your aching center, you know this because you can feel each breath he exhales ghosting over your pussy, the muscles in your hips want to squirm and seek him out but you can’t. Not with all this atmospheric pressure gathering, the weighted air pressing harder and harder down on you and you know you’re about to break. But you’re terrified you’ll disrupt the spell that keeps you both frozen here, still and aching with pleasure. You’re gathering the courage to make the first move when Mando finally breaks the silence.
“From now on,” you interrupt him with a gasp at how different he sounds without the voice filter, the tone is so much fuller and warm, but he then continues unperturbed, “This is fucking mine.”
Your yelp echos off the walls when his hot, skillful tongue liiicks up your slit, flicking at the very top of its path off of your clit. 
Fuck this feels so good, this feels so good, how does it feel like this, so fucking amazing? He barely even talks, how is he so dexterous with his tongue? Tortured noises fall out of your throat as Mando licks through your folds, trying to taste everything his mouth can possibly reach. He rolls his tongue repeatedly over your clit making you tense up and shake from the overwhelming sensation. There's a sound in the hull, you can barely discern the source of it at first but you suddenly realize it coming from your own mouth, a filthy mantra falling from your tongue.
Mando-Mando-Mando-Don’t stop- Please dont-Mando
He stops.
“Hey! What-” Your hands fly down and flounder around finding soft locks of hair and immediately latching on for dear life. Impatiently tugging at his scalp, you try to scoot down and find his talented tongue, your clit feeling cold and achy without his touch. But he’s so strong, a solid pillar of immovable stone and you can’t budge him at all, his only reaction being a deep growl when you yank a little too hard on his head. You must’ve pissed him off because one hand is suddenly on your heat, cupping your pussy with his palm but leaving a gap between your bodies, torturing you with the lack of friction. You whine pathetically at this game. 
“Mando-fuck- why… pleeeaaase.” His touch leaves you entirely and you’re more desperate than ever, writhing to the point where you almost slide off the thin mattress onto the floor. Your inner thighs connect with broad hips again, this time without the barrier of your leggings between you. When your cunt presses into his crotch you realize you can feel more than the cloth of his dark pants, he must’ve pulled his cock out because you can feel his skin, the skin of his cock brushing over you plus just a patch of it from where the hem of his pants is pulled under his balls. A ragged sound tears from both of you when his thick length parts your lips, grinding against your clit.
“I-I thought you weren’t, I mean you said-” 
“I’m not g-going to fuck you-” he gasps out, voice breaking despite the clear determination in his response, “not yet. I want you to use me and make yourself-fuck- cum. Fuck yourself on me.”
You’re speechless, there are absolutely no words in any of the Galaxy’s countless languages, known or unknown, that can succinctly express just how fucking turned on his suggestion makes you. Is this his way of giving back to you after you made him cum the night before? You don’t know, fuck- you don’t care either. Fuck whatever complex you had about owing him, you deserve this and you want it more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your fucking life. 
His broad body is propped over yours, cock grinding into you over and over again as he rolls his hips and groans out, “Well? You want it like this, pretty girl? Or do you-” 
You interrupt him by reaching between your legs and finding his cock, pushing it down your lips to your aching hole. He sucks in a sharp breath and everything is frozen in that quiet place again, just for a split second, before you press his length into your body, sinking down to the hilt. 
A broken sound comes out of you, your throat so tight that your vocal cords can’t rub together to produce anything louder than a squeak. However, the Mandalorian is not without his words, a string of curses tumbling from him in that gorgeous, rough voice. Fuck, holy fuck, you wish you could hear him speak like that for the rest of time, his real voice without the modulator hits you straight in the gut. He called you beautiful yet he doesn’t realize the power of his beauty has completely destroyed you. You’ll do anything for him, for that voice. When he claimed your pussy as his you realized that there was never a point in time where it didn’t belong to him. The Mandalorian moves mountains with his claims. 
He is like a mountain himself, completely stilling his body the second you let him inside you. You clench down on his thick length and drag yourself off of him, leaving only the swollen head inside your hole. You’re burning up, a sweat breaking out over your entire body as you try to take his cock. He’s so thick inside you, stars you can't control your fluttering lower muscles that pulse from the strain. The saliva and slickness helped him slide inside initially but now you’re clenched around him painfully tight as you try and adjust to his size. He lays so still for you, still muttering curses at the feeling of you, yet patient as you work yourself on his cock. But at some point, you can’t help letting out a little wail when you fuck yourself on him, the debilitating mix of pain and pleasure is fucking overwhelming and he can tell you’re struggling.
Mando settles lower on your body, elbows next to your head and armored torso brushing against your upper half, the ridges on his cuirass catching your nipples through your shirt. The movement slightly ruts his hips, an inch of his cock entering you accidentally. You swear and freeze at the sensation, face screwing up-it’s so good but you hurt just slightly. His mouth must be close to your face because you can feel his breath on your skin when he starts whispering filthy encouragement. 
“You’re doing so fucking good for me, taking my cock- fuck you’re so tight, how are you so tight- Maker that has to hurt, you can do it baby, keep-keep trying.” The elbow to your right lifts off the thin mattress, his hand caressing down your body, over your breasts, down your side, gentle trails from his fingertips ghosting over your skin and sending tingles all over. This helps to relax your muscles a little, you feel the walls of your cunt loosen just enough to relieve the uncomfortable ache. Wetness gathers around his cock from his encouragement, as you slide with more ease along him grinding yourself up and down on his solid cock.
It is fucking indescribable, a nearly out of body experience fucking yourself on him, every time you bottom out the thick head presses into a spot that sends flashes of white behind your eyelids. You can't even moan right now, the only noises you manage are shuddering gasps and whines as you feel yourself rise higher and higher. The peak is right there, you can feel it, you’re right fucking there-
“M-Mando, I’m gonna-gonna-fuck, I’m going-I-” You’re frantic, unable to string together the words 
The hand exploring your body diverts its path, reaching between your legs to rub strong circles around your clit.
He’s saying something to you but you can’t understand him, a rush of blood in your ears drowns out all other senses, the only thing you can feel is your blinding climax and the thick cock in your body. You’re clamped down tight on him as the sensation rips through you, building you up and destroying you over and over again. You can’t comprehend how he has the control to just hold himself there, you feel like you’re being wrung dry with how tightly you clench around him with each pulse of your orgasm. Eventually, the white noise fades from your ears and sensation returns to the rest of you, limbs tingling as you stretch the taut muscles.
Mando is trembling above you, arms shaking from the effort of propping himself up for so long. A soft noise leaves you and you wrap your arms around him, trying to soothe the tightness in his muscles like he did for you but the armor gets in your way. He makes a low noise in his throat when you skim over his side, finally allowing himself to rest when he lays on top of you, one arm still holding his full weight back so as to not crush you. You reach an arm under his shirt trying to feel more of his skin, but the padding and metal still attached to his body prevent you from moving more than a few inches.
This time, you’re first to break the silence, “What did-what were you saying?” you ask, not wanting to miss anything he says to you in his real, unfiltered voice. He doesn’t say or do anything at first, his hesitation lasting long enough that you resign yourself to never knowing. But then he lifts his head from where it lays next to yours and you feel the sharp tip of his nose brush your good cheek, over the bridge of your nose to the other side, then press closer into you as his lips meet yours. 
His kiss is so gentle that you forget he’s still hard inside you. All you can think about is the heat of his mouth crushing against yours, pressure held back enough so that he doesn’t dig into your injured cheek but filled with a promise of the energy he holds in his powerful body. You fucking hate those Rodians more than ever because you would give anything for him to kiss you with his full strength right now, holding back nothing. 
But soon -too soon, he draws back from your mouth and pulls his cock out of you. You blush at the obscene noise your wetness makes as he curses and wrenches the last inch away from your pussy, leaving you empty.
‘Come back to me…” You whisper desperately, reaching out for him.
“Fuck I can’t- I don’t want to hurt you.” Mando spits out, sounding wrecked, “I want to so fucking bad but I-”
You try pleading with him, wanting him to feel just as much blinding pleasure as you did from the way your bodies fit so perfectly together. “You won’t hurt me I swear, I can take it-you said I could.” 
He groans in a tortured, painful way, hesitating for a moment and you think you might’ve just convinced him to come back and fuck you- but the hand that eventually touches you isn’t anywhere near your pussy. He’s wrapping the gauze from your eyes, pulling it from your head to press into your cheek. You blink as your eyes adjust to the yellow light of the Crests hull, the usually dull fluorescents are piercing. Still, your vision is not quite blurry enough to hide the gleam of the polished Beskar sitting back on Mandos’s head. You swallow your disappointment at losing the pure tone of his voice to that damn modulator. 
“I can't,” he says softly, “you’re bleeding again. It was too rough.” 
You can’t argue with him. You feel a bit weak and dizzy which is not just from your powerful orgasm. Sleeping in the cockpit didn’t grant you the most restful night; you’re exhausted, slipping away even as he speaks. 
“I’m sleepy...” You mumble, your speech very simple when you’re this exhausted. Mando makes a low noise, indiscernible in tone now that it is passing through the voice filter. You hate that thing for stealing away the depth of his voice even as it fades with your consciousness. 
“Sleep now… I’ll pilot the ship while you rest. Sleep…”
And so you do.
------------------------------------------
     It’s many hours later. The ship hurtles through hyperspace as you stand and examine your cheek in the tiny mirror of the fresher, basked in yellow light. The wound isn't very deep but it’s long, stretching from the high point of your cheekbone halfway down to your jaw. You grimace at the sight. That will definitely leave a scar...
    The Mandalorian is moving quickly behind you in the ship's hull, arranging the carbonite freezing slabs in a way that you can’t make sense of but don’t really care about. You’re too preoccupied with your reflection to consider it. Mando takes note of this. 
    “Warrior marks.” He tells you, walking across the length of the ship to lean against the doorway of the small fresher. “Wear them proudly, burc’ya.”
Wear them proudly. 
And so you do.
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mamabear-elinor · 3 years ago
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The Forging of Bitter Bonds
III. A Shining Light September 07, 1992; September 14, 1992
[cw for a small instance of ~~casual racism]
The first day of the semester at the University of Edinburgh was insignificant to most. The weather was average; overcast and cool, the wind sweeping in off the ocean and chilling the bone if one was not careful. Elinor found it invigorating as she walked over the uneven cobblestones through the stone corridor that led out onto the street in Old Town. She checked the map that the student’s union had passed out at orientation and then crossed the street and into the warm little pub. 
“Ellie!” A pretty, redheaded girl stood up in her seat and waved rambunctiously, garnering the attention of a few other patrons of the quaint pub. 
Quickly, Elinor headed toward the table and slipped into the seat across from her. “Goldie, crivvens, you’re going to get us kicked out.” 
“Oh, psh. It’s fine. I already made friends with ol’ Tommy.” She wiggled the whiskey in her hand. 
“You’re underage,” Elinor pointed out, torn between disapproving and impressed.
“That’s such a nice name, don’t you think?” Marigold DunBroch ignored her. 
Elinor turned and looked over her shoulder at the bartender, who was nothing to look at. Old and balding, with a red nose and a missing front tooth. “No,” she replied primly after her assessment.
Marigold made a face but just sat back in her seat. “How was it then? I don’t have class until tomorrow, thank God.” 
Finally, Elinor smiled. “Wonderful! My professor for Art History 101 is a woman, Professor Howell. She’s amazing. I want to be just like her.” 
“You got all that from one class?” Marigold curled her fingers in a wave at a strapping young lad a few tables away, not looking in her friend’s direction. 
“Have you ever heard of Artemisia?” 
“Bless you.”
“Hilarious. Listen.” Elinor tugged her friend’s arm. “She was this woman painter in the seventeenth century. She was the first woman to be a member of the Accademia di Arte del Disegno. I didn’t even know women were painters then! It’s only my first day and I’ve already learned so much. Oh, there was another one. I can’t remember her name, shoot.” 
Elinor dove for her notebook in her satchel, which was made from fine leather. Her father had given it to her as a gift. She pulled out her notebook and sat back up. 
There was a girl standing in front of their table. 
“Oh, hello,” Elinor said with a tight smile, her brow furrowed slightly. “Can I help you?” 
Marigold had turned her focus on the newcomer as well. 
“You’re in Professor Howell’s class.” Her accent was Scottish, but there was something strange about it. Elinor could not place it.  
“Yes?” Elinor had a feeling it was not a question. 
“Me too,” the girl smiled. “I’m Sorcha. Can I sit with you? All the other tables are full and it’s started raining.” 
Elinor glanced over her shoulder to the rain, then over at Marigold, who shrugged a little and moved her stuff over to make room. “Yeah, sure, sit. Please.”
“Fabulous.” Sorcha did not need telling twice. She plopped down in the spare seat as soon as the table was clear. Her gold jewelry glinted in the low light, almost too bright for the dim pub. There were raindrops in the tight curls of her black hair. They caught the light too, twinkling like stars. She reached up and shook out her hair. A few droplets fell onto the table. “Sorry. I forgot my scarf at home today. It wasn’t supposed to rain.”
“That--that’s alright,” Elinor said after a moment. 
Sorcha smiled at her. “You’re sweet. I didn’t get your names--?” 
“I’m Marigold DunBroch.” Marigold held out her hand. “And that’s Elinor Briar. We call her Ellie, though.” 
“No, no we don’t,” Elinor corrected, feeling the tips of her ears heat slightly. 
“No worries,” Sorcha said, leaning back in her chair and spreading her legs so that one of her knees bumped the table, making Elinor jump slightly. Her posture was horrid. It was alarming. “I like Elinor better. It’s pretty. Do you know what it means?” 
Elinor furrowed her brow, her eyes jumping up from Sorcha’s thigh which was encroaching into her space. “What? No, uh--I think it was my grandmother’s name or...something like that.” 
“Shame. You know, a name can tell a lot about a person.” 
“How’s that?” This was Marigold, her eyes sparking bright as she leaned forward slightly.
“Well, you were named after your grandmother or something?” Sorcha was still looking at Elinor, her dark eyes assessing. 
Elinor couldn’t quite meet her gaze. “Do Marigold,” she mumbled, but cleared her throat and laughed once. 
“Yes, tell me about my name.” 
“Alright.” Sorcha’s eyes lingered for another moment on Elinor and then turned to Marigold, who was sitting primly, shoulders back, and wide, dazzling smile. Ever since they had been young, Marigold commanded every conversation her and Elinor were in. They did not see each other often, but if anyone asked, Marigold DunBroch was Elinor’s best friend in the whole world. 
“Well, from what I know marigolds are used for Día de los muertos.” 
“What’s that?” Marigold asked, grinning like a loon now at the attention being lavished on her.
Outside, thunder rumbled and the rain began to come down more steadily against the window pane. Elinor realized she was still clutching her notebook. She wondered, if she just took a peak, if she would be able to remember the name of the artist they’d learned about in class. Maybe the artist had a name that meant something important. 
“It translates to the Day of the Dead. A day when the veil between worlds is thinnest and the deceased walk amongst the living.” 
Elinor shivered as if one of the cool raindrops from the windowpane had slipped down her spine. 
Marigold deflated slightly, her blue eyes a bit more cautious. “Oh. Well! Do Elinor’s. I bet it means something lame like--dark-haired. Her parents are so unoriginal.”
“I--don’t know, actually,” Sorcha admitted with a little shrug, but when she looked at Elinor again, she had the sense that Sorcha knew more than she was letting on. “At least you have a family name. That’s nice. To have a legacy like that.” 
“Yes, I suppose.” Elinor took a sip of her water. 
A legacy. That was certainly something her family had given her. Or, more accurately, placed on her shoulders without her consent. She felt it heavy now, her first day of classes behind her and now a countdown until her new first day of classes. Elinor had yet to tell Marigold that she would be transferring to Oxford. In fact, she had yet to tell her that she was no longer seeing Francis Smith. She didn’t want to think about any of that. She wanted to enjoy her semester. To learn what she could. The comment had brought her back down again, though, as she was reminded that this was not permanent. Professor Howell would not be her teacher next year. Nor even next semester. She couldn’t write her thesis with the woman. It was silly of Elinor to have even been thinking of it. 
“What does your name mean then, Sorcha?” Marigold asked, not sensing her friend’s withdrawal. She put an elbow on the table (unladylike.) 
“It means brightness,” Sorcha said and those dark eyes of hers sparked, her white teeth stark against the dark lipstick and her dark skin.
“I have an Aunt Sorcha and she is not bright at all.” Marigold laughed loud enough that she snorted. 
“I think you’re very bright,” Elinor blurted without thinking and then felt her ears burn.
The look that Sorcha fixed her with made Elinor’s stomach churn. She felt as if somehow Sorcha had looked right through her. Or, perhaps, more accurately, directly into her, like she could see Elinor’s soul. This time, though, Elinor couldn’t look away. Their eyes locked. 
Then, Sorcha’s face broke out into another grin. “Aw, thanks, sweetie pie,” she said, reaching out to squeeze Elinor’s forearm. Her nails were long and bright red. (Garish, Elinor’s mother said in her head. Only women of certain proclivities paint their nails bright like that, pale colours only or don’t paint your nails at all.) “You’re not so bad yourself.” She winked.
“Oh, uh--I just meant--”
“I know what you meant.” Sorcha patted her arm. “Now, what’s in that notebook? I saw you pulling it out when I came over.”
“I was just--we can talk about something else.”
“Well, how am I gonna say if I wanna talk about it or something else unless you tell me what it is?”
“It was just some artist she was trying to remember,” Marigold waved. “I’d much rather know more about you, Sorcha. Where are you from?” 
“Spain,” Sorcha replied offhand. She was still looking at Elinor. “What is the work from the artist? Was it one of the ones we were shown in class?”
“Spain? But you sound like a Scot!” Marigold said, looking like a dog with a bone. She was even more curious now.
“That’s because I grew up here. Now, what artist is it?” 
“It’s really--I can’t remember at this point,” Elinor said, leaning over to slide her notebook back into her bag. “It’s not important.” 
“You’ll just have to tell me next class. Looks like the rain has cleared, so I’m going to head out.” She stood up, the chair scraping behind her. 
Elinor blinked rapidly. “Oh, well. It was nice to meet you.” 
“You too.” She gave a little salute and then sauntered off.
“That was...odd,” Elinor commented, shifting in her seat slightly, crossing her ankles. 
“I liked her,” Marigold replied with a grin. 
→ → → 
The next week, after classes, as Elinor headed back out into the misty evening. Someone called her name.
“Elinor!” 
Turning, she saw Sorcha waving at her, then jogging down the steps to meet her. She had a bright yellow scarf tied around her thick hair this time. 
“Did you remember the artist?” 
“Oh, uhm, yes,” Elinor said as she began walking back toward her dorm. “It was Leonora Carrington.” It was a good thing the wind was brisk, for it hid the warmth of her cheeks. 
“You would totally like Carrington,” Sorcha agreed with a sage nod of her head.
“What? What is that supposed to mean?” 
“I just figured she’d be your style.” 
“How?” 
“I don’t know. Just a hunch.” 
They walked silently for a few steps. Elinor had assumed that Sorcha would peel off again, but instead she stayed right next to Elinor, her wide hips occasionally bumping Elinor’s own. 
“I looked up what my name means,” Elinor admitted after a few more moments. 
The smile Sorcha gave her made Elinor think that she had somehow known this too. “And?” Sorcha prompted. 
“Light of God, I suppose. There were a few other meanings but--”
“That was the one that stood out to you?” 
“No, I mean...that is probably what my parents intended anyhow.” 
“Who cares what they think? That’s not what I asked.” 
Elinor, if she was not so well-schooled in walking gracefully, might have tripped over a cobblestone. She clutched her books tight to her chest. Who cares what they think? What an absurd thing to say. 
“Well--it also means shining light or...the bright one.” Elinor’s heart felt like it was beating extremely fast for a casual, brisk autumn stroll across campus.
“We match!” Sorcha sounded extraordinarily pleased with herself. “That’s brilliant. Would you like to join my study group?” 
“Oh, I--” Elinor had a feeling saying no would be rude. She didn’t want to say no. Or...did she? There was a part of her that did. She was only going to be here for one semester. Gone before the snow melted and the spring bloomed again. Making friends had never been a priority for her anyway. She wanted to do well in school, so that her parents would give her freedom. If she failed, they would drag her back to the castle kicking and screaming. 
Education for women was a privilege, after all. 
“It’ll be fun, I promise.” 
“Very well,” Elinor agreed stiffly. 
“Perfect, we meet in classroom 124B on Wednesdays from 6pm to 7pm. I will see you there!” Abruptly, Sorcha turned on her heel and struck off straight across the quad. As she went, she removed the scarf from her head, allowing her hair to spring free, even though the rain had just begun in earnest. 
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rainydayhogwartsimagines · 4 years ago
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It’s me again lol thank you for the first one. I was wondering if you could do another fic w Fred with a admirer makes him a kandi bracelet, if you don’t know what that is then you can skip but thank you for considering- ❤️
I dead ass forgot the name of Kandi bracelets! But I totally know what these are I've got like six of these bad boys in a box somewhere
Fred was curious about this whole situation. He was finding bracelets... Everywhere. The weirdest part was he knew they were meant for him. Little phrases only he could understand would be left on these things, along with the fact they'd be left in places only he would go to. He wouldn't wear all of them. No. He'd simply keep them in a box but he would wear the newest one he could find the next one in hopes of it's maker seeing it and commenting on it. He was curious to know who knew him this well. And why he didn't seem to know them. He sighed, finding the latest one resting on a table in the library. He knew there was no point in asking if anyone had seen it's maker. Whoever you were you were otherwise well known and had everyone in on this, or you were practically invisible to people. He asked many times in open areas if anyone had seen you all with the same answer: Nope. You sat down next to him and rose a brow. "Still getting these from them?" You asked. "Yep." Fred said taking off the last one and sticking in his pocket. "still no luck in finding them hmm?" You asked. "I don't get it. How are they able to leave them in places beforehand without being seen." Fred asked. "I'm not sure." You shrugged. "What's the newest one even say?" You asked. "I solemnly swear that I am... Up to no good-- this person knows about the marauders map." He said. "That's limiting it to a very slim amount of people then." You pointed out. "I feel like Sherlock every time I look at these." Fred said curiously. You choked on air hearing that reference. "How in the world do you know Sherlock Holmes?" You asked. "I read it after you asked me to 'read at least one muggle book so I don't sound crazy' Y/n." Fred chuckled. "You read?" You gaped. "I know. Shocking. Don't tell anyone or else my reputation might be ruined." He said sarcastically making you smile. You turned back to your book and Fred smiled. He loved seeing that beautiful smile on your face, it was like he was seeing it for the first time everytime he saw it. You could feel him staring and hid behind your strands of hair but he tucked them behind your ear and you blushed crimson. Fred smiled even more and you sighed. "I can't study if you keep distracting me Fred." You whined. "Yes I am a fun distraction though." He said. "Midterms Fred. Midterms." You said making him sigh and rest his head on his arms. He soon fell asleep and you looked at the bracelet on his arm.
He wore them. All the time. It pleased you to see he did want to meet the maker. But would he still want them if it was you? You were the listener of the group, usually listening to everyone's problems but never saying your own. Fred was the only one though who actually listened to you. He would notice your tired stares and ask what was wrong. You'd give him a half ass answer but then he'd ask you to "elaborate on that please" and you'd wind up telling him. You and him would have little moments yes. But you've seen him do this with plenty of other girls. You didn't want a "fling" you wanted something more, something impactful. Fred liked you of course though unbeknownst to you. A part of him was hoping you'd drop a hint that it was you behind these bracelets. But so far... Nothing. The next day came and another clue was left by a spot in the staircase he and George would hang out at. "Oh, your secret admirer left a present again." George yawned as he sat. Fred lifted it and rose a brow. "Sherlocking time. Find me." Fred read looking up. George leaned up. "Think we'll meet the maker?" He asked. "Sounds like that's what they're trying to get me to do." Fred agreed. You stopped and noticed the boys. "Left you another bracelet?" You asked, motioning to the new one. "Yeah, they said 'find me'." Fred said. You rose a brow. "So are you going to go off looking?" You asked. "In a moment. I'm going to nap first. Long day. Long. Long. Day." He yawned. You chuckled and walked past. You knew he'd do that.
You knew this boy all to well. You started leaving them along his route, but only in places you'd knew he'd have to sit or stand in a specific spot to see. You were a clever little thing you. It was a wonder you weren't in Ravenclaw. Fred soon woke up from his name and leaned up, seeing the glint of a metallic bead. "...The chase has begun." Fred noted as he got up. George yawned and blinked a few times to see his brother finding another one. "Where you go to be alone." So... The lake? Fred started walking and George trailed after him. "Where are you going?" George asked. "They left another clue." Fred said. It took him a bit but he finally made it to the lake, looking around the area just to come up empty handed. Where was this damn thing? He sighed and sat on a rock before seeing a blue bead. You sneaky little shit. He walked over to the small plant it was on and found it. "Clever. Find the plant name." Was inscribed on the beads. "Now how the hell am I going to do that?" Fred grumbled. Luna rose a brow. "What do you have there?" She asked, her voice light and soft as she spoke. "Oh. A bracelet. Someone's been leaving these for me." He admitted. "Like a scavenger hunt?" Luna asked. "Yes, exactly. But now I'm reaching a dead end." Fred grumbled. "What's it say?" Luna asked. "Find the plant name." He muttered. "Oh... Have you checked in a book?" Luna asked. Fred facepalmed. "That's so obvious. Thank you Lovegood." Fred said making her chuckle as he ran past. He found you in the library reading and he tapped you. "Hmm?" You asked turning to him. "Do you know where I might be able to find a book on plants?" Fred asked. "Well that's a lot of books Fred. Can you narrow this down?" You asked. "Plants that grow near lakes?" He guessed. "...Hmm..." You got up and walked into a aisle before picking up six different books. "What's this for anyways? Finally doing homework?" You asked. "Aha. Funny." Fred said making you laugh and shake your head.
He smiled as he sat down flipping through pages. It wasn't until he read the fifth book he finally found the next bracelet, squished between it's pages. You rose a brow. "Whoever this is, they are thorough as fuck." Fred muttered. "Where you met me." Was inscribed. "Well that's where this dies out." Fred groaned. "Fred, we already know this person knows about the Marauder's map. So that's like four people." You said. "Shit. You're right." He nodded making you roll your eyes. Then Fred paused. "Wait... Three people know about the map." He said. "Hmm?" You asked. "Only three. Not four." Fred said. "Harry, Fred. And Angelina knows too. George had a slip up in front of her." You said. "...Shit." Fred groaned. "Process of elimination. We know it's not George." Fred muttered to himself. You snorted. "You're beginning to actually sound like Sherlock now." You laughed. "Shh. I'm thinking." Fred said with a tone that was joking. You bit back a snort and you shook your head. "Where did me and you meet?" Fred asked. "Uhm... Courtyard. I think?" You recalled. "Right! It was in the winter!" He nodded. "Where did I meet Angelina?" He asked. "Uhm... Also... The courtyard." You said. "Shit. You're right. Gotta be thorough." Fred said before leaving. Luna sat down in front of you. "Stuck around and told him didn't you?" You asked her. "I'm surprised his first conclusion wasn't a book." Luna giggled silently. You smiled and Angelina sat down next to you. "Alright, so who's directing him to the next one?" Angelina asked. "Uhm... I thought you were." Luna said softly. "We gotta keep this inconclusive, he'll catch on that's Luna's in on this if we give her the next spot again." You said. "Hmm. Alright I'll do it." Angelina said with a smirk. "Confuse him just a little bit. I swear making that boy read was both a blessing and a curse, he's gained deductive reasoning." You snorted making her laugh. Sure enough there was a confused Fred, trying to recall exactly where he met you. "Is it Angelina?" He asked before Angelina walked over to a confused Fred. "What are you doing?" Angelina asked. "I'm looking for a clue. And coming up with nothing-- where did I meet you two?" Fred asked Angelina. "we were sitting." She muttered before sitting on the bench pretending to ponder. Fred rose a brow and then sat next to her before noticing the next clue. It was under another bench across. Jesus this person knew how to hide things at an angle. He gripped the bracelet and read it "Where you go to think" so... The astronomy tower. He groaned and began walking and Angelina nearly snorted watching him gripe the entire way there. Six other bracelets were found, all of them being in obscure places before he finally found one. "Look for the listener." He rose a brow. What the fuck did that mean? He walked back to the great hall and everyone was sitting around. "Where have you been?" George asked. "Looking for these things." He sighed. "Hit another dead end?" You asked. "Yeah. 'look for the listener.' what does that even..." Then it hit him. You. The answer was you. "Fred? You look like the Bloody Baron just passed through you, are you alright?" Angelina asked. "The listener in our group is Y/n." Fred said looking at you. George and Angelina looked at you and you smirked. "Surprise." You said, taking off the last bracelet. "Found me." Was inscribed on the beads. He chuckled and shook his head. "You're thorough." He said. "I didn't think you actually read Sherlock Holmes... That caught me off guard." You chuckled. Fred got up and extended his hand. "Come on." He said.
"Where are we--" "we need to talk." He said and you took his hand with a confused look. "Fred if you're upset then I'm really sorry I just thought that it was fun and--" "I'm not upset, that was fucking brilliant." He chuckled. "...It was?" You asked. "You need to organize a group event or something because honest to God that was AMAZING." Fred said making you chuckle. "I had help." You said softly. "From who-- Angelina and Luna!" He gasped making you giggle. Fred smiled and shook his head. "Christ woman, you're going to make me fall harder for you if you keep this up." Fred said making your eyes widened. "You... You actually--" "Yes! Y/n I was hoping this was you! God I knew you were smart but you're giving the actual Sherlock Holmes a run for his money Princess!" He said making you smiled. "A...are you sure that you... I mean... I..." You shuffled. "I like you Y/n... And if you'll let me I'd like to be your boyfriend." He said. You smiled and took out the actual last bracelet. "Mischief Managed." He smiled at it and put it on your wrist. "I'll wear the other one. That way we're a set." He said with a smile. Your face must've been as red as the Gryffindor house colors as Fred kissed you. You smiled and chuckled. He took your hand and went back into the great hall, arm wrapped around you. "It worked!" Luna smiled, now sitting with Angelina. "We've got ourselves a trickster amongst the group." George teased. You smiled and Fred kissed the side of your head. "How'd you even know where to put half of these though?" Fred asked about the bracelets.
"elementary my dear Watson"
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halothenthehorns · 3 years ago
Text
BACK TO THE BURROW
Harry found himself flipping to the next chapter with a smile on his face, and he put it all down to the fact that he was headed over to the Burrow house!
Harry had all of his treasured possessions packed in no time, including his Invisibility Cloak he'd inherited from his father, and his Firebolt that Sirius had given him,
James couldn't help a little smirk, at least his cloak was mentioned first.
and his Marauders Map. He'd cleaned out his loose floorboard, made sure every corner of his room was free of his belongings, and even took down the chart he always had hanging up marking the days until he went back to school. The rest of the house lay in a tense silence, the known coming of assorted wizards
"Assorted," Lily sniffed at their typical over exaggeration. "It's going to be Ron, one of his parents, and that's it. They might try to make pleasant conversation for five seconds before they realize you're a waste of space and be done."
  was making the Dursley's more irritable than normal.
Sirius couldn't help but squirm in agitation. He hated to think of Harry there when they were in a good mood, he didn't like to think of him being around when they were even more bad tempered with him than normal.
Harry left his trunk in his room and chose to sit on the stairs as five o'clock came around, and when Vernon caught sight of him he snapped at Harry that these people had better have dressed right.
"Oh yes, because they're so likely to come in their nightgowns," Remus snorted.
He'd seen the garb they chose to wear, and they'd better have the courtesy to show up in normal clothing.
"What does he mean by normal?" James frowned.
"If they showed up in their best black tie, Vernon would still hate them, so it doesn't really matter," Lily huffed.
Harry flashed back to the two Weasley parents, who he'd never seen outside of their robes. This didn't bother Harry, but he now felt a stirring of nerves at how the Dursley's might treat them when they showed up looking like their idea of the worst kind of wizards.
All five of them were frowning for that very same reason now, none of them wanted to hear about this exchange. It might have the one benefit of making the Weasley's look further into Harry's care there, it just sort of depended on how bad this got.
Vernon chose to put on his best suit for the night, and while some might think this a kind gesture,
"Sadly we know better," Sirius sighed.
Harry knew it was because Vernon wanted to look impressive and intimidating.
"A feat he would marvelously fail at no matter what he's wearing," Remus scathed.
Dudley was behaving peculiarly as well, out of fear. The last time he'd met a fully grown wizard, he'd come out of the exchange with a pigs tail,
"Still one of my favorite moments," Sirius snickered.
which his parents had to pay to remove. Dudley was clearly still scarred by the event, as the closer the time approached, the more often he could be seen rubbing his bum, and walking sideways through the rooms so as not to present the same target.
James didn't even try to smother his cackle, that was hilarious and deserved.
Lunch was a mute meal. Dudley didn't even protest at the food, cottage cheese and grated celery.
Lily shuddered in protest of imagining her poor boy eating that, thankful that the moment Harry arrived at the Weasley's they'd stuff more than enough food down him.
Petunia wasn't eating at all, but instead spent the time chewing on her tongue, as though forcing herself not to shoot something nasty at Harry.
"I'm not even going to ask for what," Remus rolled his eyes.
Vernon was the first to speak up by demanding of Harry that they'd be arriving by car of course.
That gave them all a pause, as they considered this for the first time. The most common way for them to travel was apparition, but neither of Ron's parents would attempt that with two minors.
"Maybe Mr. Weasley did get another car and flew, err, drove it there," James offered with a small smirk.
"I somehow doubt it," Lily huffed. "After the catastrophe of the last one, even with the end results."
"Well then, I've got nothing." Remus shrugged, waving Harry on with curiosity now.
Harry wasn't sure of the answer, as the Weasley's didn't own a car anymore. Mr. Weasley had been able to get one from work before though, so it was possible he'd done so again.
"Makes sense," Lily nodded in agreement.
He agreed out loud, and waited expectantly for Vernon to ask what model. He was known for judging people on how expensive their cars were,
"Can't say I'm remotely surprised," Sirius mumbled.
but Harry doubted whether Vernon would have taken to Mr. Weasley even if he drove a Ferrari.
James just rolled his eyes, he didn't need to ask to grasp that this must just be a very nice style of car.
After dinner he went back up to his bedroom, unable to stand watching the others obsessively check out the window as if a wild rhino would come up the drive any second.
Remus couldn't help a little snort of surprise at such a random comparison, though he rather liked the idea.
When it was fifteen till though, Harry went back to sit on the stairs to find Vernon pretending to read a newspaper, and Dudley managing to smush himself into a chair. Harry hated the tension building,
"Really, because I'm rather enjoying it." James couldn't help a little sneer, any discomfort those Dursley's ever carried managing to vindictively cheer him up.
as five o'clock came and then went.
"Uh oh," Sirius muttered, raising a brow in surprise.
"Maybe Arthur got stuck at the office" Lily offered with a small frown, thinking there were plenty of logical reasons as to why either he or Molly could be running late.
"Or traffic," Remus agreed, unable to get his tone quite to the carless level he wanted.
They were probably all being paranoid for no reason, but it was hard to fight off after so many stressful days in a row. They really needed this to just be some simple mistake, and not something terrible having happened to the Weasley's next.
Vernon stomped to the door, checked the street to be sure, then turned on Harry and snapped that they were late!
"And you're an arse," Lily muttered. She was sure it wasn't five minutes and he was already jumping at Harry for it.
Harry offered back that they'd probably got caught in traffic, but then another quarter of time passed and Harry was starting to get on edge himself.
Harry was trying, as lightly as possible, to dig at his feelings and wonder if that anxious feeling got worse, and was pleased to find he didn't think the night ended too badly. Surely that meant nothing disastrous happened, it really was just an innocent mistake of being late. His tone carried that as he kept reading, managing to relax the others a little bit.
At half past, he heard Vernon and Petunia conversing in mutters about how they had no consideration for anyone.
"It's not as if they could call you and tell you," Lily rolled her eyes.
How the Dursley's might have had somewhere else to be and were being kept! Petunia offered that maybe they thought they'd be invited to dinner if they were late enough.
"Who on earth thinks like that?" Sirius scoffed.
Vernon snapped back this would not even be considered! They'd pick up the boy and be gone. If they were even still coming, they'd probably gotten the wrong day of the week,
"I somehow doubt that," James scoffed, thinking that at least Ron would have mailed something to Harry otherwise.
not that they cared about other people's time.
Remus sighed, sick of listening to this man categorize the whole of wizards, he hated stereotyping in general.
Either that or their tin-pot of a car they were driving broke do- but the rest of his sentence was cut off by a cry of shock.
Lily couldn't help but start when Harry started up with that noise, all eyes now watching him wearily like Harry was fixing to announce something had been set on fire.
Harry ran for the living room just as Dudley came waddling out. He demanded to know what had happened, but Dudley couldn't bring himself to say anything. His hands holding firmly to his arse, he made his ungainly way to the kitchen.
"His safe haven," Sirius nodded absently.
Harry made his way into the living room, and found the source of the disturbance, behind the Dursley's boarded up fireplace could be heard someone banging against the wall.
The second Sirius recognized what Harry was describing, he cracked up laughing, managing to melt all tension in the room. "Someone," he managed to gasp, "someone's got themselves stuck in the chimney!"
"They tried to Floo there." Lily added with an indulgent grin.
"Why would you board up a fireplace?" James asked, a crazy smile on his own face at how absurd the idea was.
"Some Muggles prefer electric fireplaces," Remus shrugged, not bothering to cover his mirth one bit. "What I'm curious is how the Weasley's even pulled this off, Muggle fireplaces aren't connected to the Floo."
"I'm assuming Arthur worked something out with the Ministry," Lily managed while still half giggling.
Petunia had backed up into the farthest wall as she demanded of Vernon what this could be, but Harry had no doubts as he heard a voice cry out in pain against someone named Fred,
"Fred?" Remus repeated in surprise. "Why would the twins come along?"
"Why wouldn't they?" James smirked, "Just an innocent pick up of their friend."
"Probably told their dad they wanted to see a Muggle house in daylight, he'd have eaten that right up," Remus agreed.
"I'm surprised Molly let them, after the last time they snuck off there," Lily said.
trying to tell him to go back,
"How were they supposed to get back?" Sirius chuckled, "They'd have to Floo, and there's clearly no fire, or setting a fire while they're stuck in there."
James was now at least pretending to suppress his laughter as he stuffed his fist in his mouth to keep hearing what was happening. No one had an actual answer for Sirius though, so Harry kept going.
and warn someone, but then there was another yelp of pain and two voices exclaiming to someone named George, now trying to tell him to go back as well and warn Ron not to come. One of the twins began to ask if maybe Harry could help them out, and then all three began pounding at once on the wall calling out for Harry.
Harry was having trouble keeping his own amusement under a lid as he kept going. Oh he'd been able to hear every word, and though he felt plenty bad for the fix they'd wound up in, the situation was too priceless not to at least give a little chuckle.
The Dursley's rounded on Harry like a pair of angry wolverines.
The smile slipped right off of Lily's face at least, detesting that the very first thing they did was turn on Harry in anger for something he'd had no control over. It didn't matter how many times she heard it happen to him, she would never not hate it.
Vernon demanded to know what was going on, and Harry tried to explain that they'd tried to travel here by Floo, while fighting down a mad desire to laugh.
"Oh Harry, it's not mad at all." Sirius' grin was still getting wider the longer this dragged on, still picturing those three squashed together like that the funniest thing he'd heard in days. "I should know, I'm an expert."
Remus gave him the stank eye for the joke, like he would have smacked him if he could reach, and Sirius happily stuck his tongue out at him since he couldn't for the time being.
He still explained that they could go places by fire, but since they'd blocked theirs up they couldn't get through. Then Harry pitched his voice louder, directing at Mr. Weasley now, explaining this same thing that they couldn't get through. Mr. Weasley asked why on earth it was boarded up, and Harry explained it was electric. Mr. Weasley turned excited at once, demanding to know if it was with a plug?
James was definitely curious enough to ask, but strung together that a plug must somehow help run the electricity, so he squashed it and filed it away for later.
He was muttering to himself how he very much wanted to see that, when there was a final cry of pain and all three shouted Ron's name. Harry could hear his best friend's voice come out in confusion, asking if something had gone wrong. Harry heard Fred reply with sarcasm in every syllable that they were exactly where they'd planned.
All five of them fell with refreshed laughter, truly unable to stop themselves as they kept imagining how squished that tiny space was getting, and now hoping Ginny, Molly, or Percy hadn't been invited along as well.
While George added on that they were just having the time of their lives, his voice coming out muffled, like his face was against a wall.
"I can imagine," James voice quaked with laughter as he got that out.
Mr. Weasley shushed them, before deciding that he had no other choice. He cautioned Harry to get back, who retreated all the way behind the sofa.
"I guess he's going to blast his way out of there," Sirius was still wiping happy tears from his eyes, not at all sorry for laughing at the expense of the poor Weasley boys, he knew for a fact his friends would laugh at him if this exact same circumstances happened to him.
"Wouldn't I get into trouble for that though?" Harry frowned. "Magic's not allowed at my house."
"They shouldn't say anything to you, since the Ministry knows Arthur's coming to get you," Lily shrugged. "There might be an inquiry, but it would be Arthur who explains why he did it, so you're in the clear this time."
Vernon though, moved forward.
"Course he did," James lit up all the more, "and I hope he pays for it."
Beginning to shout in protest, but his warning was not heeded as there was a tremendous BANG, and Arthur, Fred, George, and Ron came tumbling out all coated in dust with rubble and loose bits of brick flying across the living room.
All five of them got one good last laugh as they pictured a clown car like tumble out of that cramped space.
Petunia screeched in fear and nearly fainted, but Vernon caught her and hid her behind him, both of them now coated in dust as well, speechless as they gaped at all of the red heads. Mr. Weasley got to his feet first, dusting himself off and checking his kids before catching sight of the other occupants and greeting them as Harry's Aunt and Uncle.
Their good mood still lingered enough that they only got a small twist of their lips in displeasure at such a statement, rather than the full blown rant of hatred each of them felt at such a relation.
Arthur moved toward Vernon, his hand outstretched,
"Good of him to start with some manners," Sirius muttered, humor still gleaming in his eyes as he now wanted to shake Arthur's hand for scaring the Dursley's crapless like that.
but Vernon shrank back, still keeping his wife behind him. Words seemed to fail them both, as the white powder began to settle in their hair, apparently aging them by thirty years.
"Guess he should clean that place out more often," Remus smirked.
Mr. Weasley glanced at his surroundings more properly now and began to say how sorry he was for this mess,
"I'm not," James said sincerely.
apologizing and saying how it was all his fault, and he'd fix it up at once. He just had to Floo the boy's home, he'd fix this up in a jiffy, and then he could apparate back. He hadn't even realized he couldn't get out this way, of course most Muggle fireplaces weren't hooked up to the Floo network, but Arthur had a special connection so he'd managed it just for this afternoon.
"Arthur seems pretty well connected all over." Lily noted, hadn't he also gotten those World Cup tickets from work? She found him a pleasant man and she'd never even met him. It didn't really surprise her though, as the longer she thought about it, she supposed several parts of the Ministry would have to go talk to the Muggle office for several things.
Harry was ready to bet that the Dursley's hadn't understood a single word of this.
"That's their own fault," Sirius scoffed. "Maybe if they were decent people, Harry would have explained all of it to them."
They were still standing there, gaping at him. Arthur didn't seem to notice as he turned his attention to Harry, asking if he was ready to go, had his trunk all packed? Harry agreed, and that it was upstairs. The twins volunteered to go get it, as they knew right where it was, having once rescued Harry from this house.
"Still love the term rescue," Remus muttered, sad how fitting the description was.
Harry suspected that Fred and George were hoping for a glimpse of Dudley; they had heard a lot about him from Harry.
"Really, like what?" James asked in surprise, as this hadn't ever come up before.
"Just some of the wilder things he's done like his tantrums and such." Harry shrugged, "I used to compare him and Malfoy a lot back in first year, plus how fat Dudley was. Had a bit of a laugh when I sent Ron that letter that Dudley was on a diet, I suppose he would have showed that to Fred and George."
This rather intrigued the others, as Harry kept himself so closed off in any retelling of the Dursley's, it was rare he ever elaborated on whatever the book showed, that it was interesting indeed he'd clearly shared some of it with at least Ron and his brothers as a laugh. It didn't erase the darker things they wondered about what went on in that house, and Harry's face still clearly showed now he didn't want to talk about it. He proved that by continuing to read as soon as he was done explaining.
Mr. Weasley agreed as they left, then began swinging his arms awkwardly as he complimented the nice house.
Lily in particular released a snort for that comment, picturing the dust coated living room because of Mr. Weasley. Perhaps now hadn't been the best time to mention that, but it was the thought that counted.
Since the usually spotless living room was still covered in bits of fireplace, this wasn't the best thing he could have said, as it set Vernon's face to a purple hue, and Petunia began chewing on her tongue again to stop herself snapping back. Still, neither said a thing.
"Something I hope keeps for the rest of their lives," Sirius chuckled.
Mr. Weasley was still looking around in interest. Harry knew that he loved all things Muggle related, and that he was itching to go and inspect the television and video recorder up close.
"Credit to him for restraining himself," Remus smiled lightly, Arthur was clearly trying his hardest to keep things friendly, though he had no idea that the Dursley's didn't deserve it.
He kept speaking to the Dursley's casually enough, telling them he knew that those devices ran off of electricity, though he mispronounced it. He could see the plugs running them, and was also aware of batteries, he had a large collection of those and was quite proud of them. His wife called him mad, but what could you do. Vernon clearly thought Arthur was mad as well,
"Well to be fair, there are much weirder things I've heard Muggles collect." Lily snickered, she didn't find it that weird at all.
and scooted to the side a bit more so that Petunia was completely blocked from view, as if he feared Mr. Weasley would suddenly lunge forward and attack them.
"Now that could get really interesting, really fast," James said almost eagerly.
Lily on the other hand raised a brow in surprise. While she detested Vernon just as much as her sister, more than she'd hated anyone in her life as a matter of fact, and loathed even giving him one spot of light, it was there when he did the act of attempting to hide his wife. As cruel as he was to her son, Vernon at least showed in that moment that he did hold concern for his own family at least, not that this made up in any way for his cruelty to Harry.
Dudley chose that moment to make his appearance, and Harry guessed all the noise must have scared him out of the kitchen.
"A marvelous feat in itself," Sirius grinned.
He came sidling into the room, watching Mr. Weasley with horror, and still keeping his back against the wall as he edged towards his parents. Arthur took another brave stab at conversation as he asked Harry that this was his cousin?
"So much credit to him for trying." Remus said again, still half laughing even as he said that.
Harry agreed that was Dudley.
"Well you're just no help at all Harry," Sirius mock scold.
Harry caught Ron's eye, then had to look away or they'd both start laughing.
"You have far more restraint than us," James beamed.
Dudley kept his hands firmly latched onto his large bottom, and Mr. Weasley was watching this with some concern. From the tone he used next, he seemed to be wondering if Dudley was as insane as the Dursley's found him, but Arthur used a sympathetic tone instead.
"Aww," Lily couldn't help but coo. Not that Dudley, or any of the Dursley's, deserved Arthur's sympathy, but it was the genuine thought that meant something.
He kindly asked if Dudley was having a good holiday, but Dudley merely whimpered as his arms tightened around his back.
"I think that translated to no," Sirius quipped.
Fred and George came back in then carrying Harry's stuff, and both cracked into identical evil grins when they caught sight of Dudley.
"Now why would they do that?" Remus asked with interest.
"They wouldn't mess with Dudley in front of their dad," Lily said without a trace of hope, she really wouldn't put anything past the twins, they reminded her too much of the Marauders.
Mr. Weasley smiled and offered that they'd better get going then, taking his wand back out, which Harry noticed made all three Dursley's shrink even farther into the wall.
"I would give Arthur all the money in the world if he'd curse them," James sighed wistfully, knowing it wasn't going to happen, but what they'd experienced this day being pleasant enough, he'd accept the defeat.
He pointed it at the grate and used the Incendio spell, causing a roaring fire to appear. Then Mr. Weasley took a pouch out of his pocket and doused the fire with the powder, causing it to turn green. Arthur instructed Fred to go ahead, and Fred made to move forward, but seemed to accidentally trip, allowing some brightly colored sweets to spill out of his pocket.
"Uh oh," all three boys sang as one.
"I've never seen wizards sweets tested on a Muggle." Lily said with just a hint of curiosity. "Do you think they'd work? I know some won't work on squibs and such."
"Well let's find out," Sirius said eagerly, waving her down, clearly no one in the room gave even a second to think this had been done by accident.
Fred made to jump around the room and collect them all, before waving a cheerful goodbye and crying out 'the Burrow' then he vanished.
"Sad he didn't get to watch his handiwork play out," James said sincerely.
George went next with the trunk, and after saying the same phrase, he too disappeared.
Harry hated to interrupt himself, somehow he just knew he was about to get to the best part, but still he couldn't stop himself from asking, "How come last time the powder had to be used individually, but this time they're all going with just one blast?"
"It depends how much is used," Remus happily explained. "The Floo will stay activated the more powder is put in, most people use the smallest amount possible and go one at a time so as not to waste and let it linger longer than it has to. This time Mr. Weasley must not have wanted to take the chance of not bringing enough, so he just used more than enough."
Harry happily nodded his thanks before continuing.
Then it was Ron's turn, and when he too went out with the green flames, Harry said his goodbye and made to leave, the Dursley's not responding behind him.
The four of them still had enough kindling annoyance to huff and roll their eyes at this now common display, no matter how much it appeared.
Before he could leave though, Arthur caught his shoulder and was watching the Dursley's with amazement as he pointed out that Harry had just told them goodbye, hadn't they heard?
"Oh they heard him." Despite James abundance of agitation at how they treated his son, he couldn't help a hopeful tone as he wondered if, finally, someone else would witness this first hand.
It was such a minor thing in all honesty, but he still crossed his fingers it would be enough that Mr. Weasley would really ask Harry about it.
Harry tried to tell Mr. Weasley to brush it off like he did, Harry didn't care.
Sirius was so eager to hear the same kind of thing, he was even momentarily distracted from wondering what that sweet would do. Was it possible Arthur would finally step in like Sirius couldn't and say something to these useless Muggles!?
Mr. Weasley didn't remove his hand though, repeating to Vernon that he wouldn't see Harry again until next summer, surely he would at least tell him goodbye?
"Half surprised he's not cheerfully waving and praising the heavens he'll be gone," Remus grumbled.
Vernon's face twisted with fury. It must have been the most galling thing to be taught manners by the man who'd just destroyed his living room,
"Every last drop of which is deserved, plus so much more" Lily hissed.
but Arthur still had his wand held loosely in his hand, which Vernon's eyes darted to,
"If only," all four of them muttered.
before he muttered a resentful goodbye to Harry.
Harry waved one last time before stepping into the fire, but before he could depart he heard a gagging noise behind him, and Petunia screamed.
"Yes!" The four boys swapped attention at once, practically on the edge of their seat to hear this play out, fully ignoring whatever discomfort this caused their injuries.
Harry turned back to find Dudley had removed himself from the wall, and instead was hunched over on the floor with something a foot long, purple, and slimy hanging from his mouth. It took Harry a wild moment to realize that was his tongue, and a purple wrapper had been left behind.
Harry had not effectively gone through that whole paragraph without having to raise his voice to keep being heard, the others were laughing too hard. Finally though he had to stop himself, he couldn't keep going he was laughing himself at the mental image.
Remus was the first to start breathing normally again, rubbing happily at his abused chest and ignoring any lingering pain he had because of it. This had been exactly what the lot of them needed, the Dursley's to get even the smallest dose of payback for what all they'd done to Harry, and for them to get a good laugh in.
Harry came back to himself soon enough, and though the others were still chuckling happily, he decided to keep going, noting that there wasn't much left.
Petunia continued to screech in fear as she ran to her boy, seized the end of his protruding muscle, and began wrenching on it like she meant to pull it out of his mouth.
"Yes, I'm so sure that'll help," Lily managed in shaking tones.
This clearly wasn't helping Dudley, who tried to splutter a protest, but was clearly unable. Vernon lost himself, now screaming at the top of his lungs himself and waving his arms about,
"Nope." James returned, "He's the one definitely doing the most good."
and none of them noticed Mr. Weasley shouting that he could fix this, pointing his wand at Dudley. This only caused Petunia to scream even louder, now throwing herself in front of her son as a shield.
"Good luck with that," Sirius snorted, still not quite in his normal intelligible voice he was still half laughing.
Lily on the other hand felt a stirring towards Petunia for the first time since the first chapter of the first book. Empathy. She'd never forgive Petunia for what she'd done to Harry, but in that one moment, Petunia was acting exactly as her sister had once done to land her nephew in that house. She didn't understand what was happening, she only feared for the safety of her child, and that one action caused Lily to flash back and remember Harry's horrible dementor memory once again of Lily doing the exact same thing. She was blinking in delayed shock, and realizing that none of them had noticed her change in demeanor, Harry was still reading.
Arthur was still yelling, trying to explain the toffee had just been a joke by his son, only an Engorgement Charm, he could fix it, at least he thought he could.
James was practically wheezing beside his wife he was trying so hard to stop himself laughing hard enough Harry would stop again, the task becoming more difficult the longer this dragged on.
Still no one paid him any mind, Petunia still half covering Dudley as she wrenched at his lolling tongue,
"Can't deny I'd like to see this," Remus muttered.
Dudley seemed to be suffocating under the combined weight of his mother and his tongue, and Vernon lost his head completely, by running over to the china cabinet and chucking a plate at Mr. Weasley.
"Now really," Lily raised a brow in surprise, "What good would that do?"
"He's panicking," Harry said with a shrug, still smiling broadly with every word.
Both by the fireplace ducked as it smashed inside the hearth, Arthur's voice now edging into anger as he shouted back that he was just trying to help.
"They wouldn't care one little bit if you were helping, or trying to burn your house down, they would be acting the exact same way," Sirius scoffed, hoping the situation could still somehow get worse.
Vernon just kept yelling nonsense as he caught up another plate, while Arthur told Harry to get out of here, he'd deal with this.
"What, no!" James all but begged. "Harry more than anyone deserves to see this play out!"
Harry didn't want to miss the fun, but Vernon's second ornament narrowly missed his left ear,
Lily couldn't help but wonder if Vernon was actually aiming for Harry, so at this point she couldn't help but agree with Arthur, she'd rather like her son to get out of there, or things really could get worse.
so Harry decided to take the advice, and stepped into the fire. Just as he cried 'the Burrow' his last glimpse of the living room was Mr. Weasley shooting the third ornament away from Vernon, Petunia still screaming and trying to wrench Dudley's tongue out of his mouth, and Dudley's tongue now as long as a python.
"I want to capture that moment forever," Sirius sighed, actually closing his eyes and mentally etching that into his memory, determined to think on that instead of something worse next time those useless muggles came to mind.
Then there were green flames all around, and the Dursley's house and everything else vanished around him.
"Chapters done!" Harry happily cheered as he stood and went to give the book to Remus.
"I think I'm honestly disappointed," Remus pouted as he juggled the baby and the book, before Harry took pity on him and took the infant. "That was the best chapter yet, and by our track record that means we've probably got three bad chapters in a row coming up now."
"Oh cheer up Remus," James tried to put that emotion into his own tone. "Harry's going to the Weasley's, he's going to the World Cup, I doubt anything bad can happen there."
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magicalforcesau · 4 years ago
Text
Dancing with Ghosts in Your Garden~ Chapter 3: Year 1- October
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The transition from summer to fall was always most evident in the midst of October and best seen on the front lawn leading up to the main entrance (no matter what Cody said about the Quidditch pitches). Satine always took special care to appreciate the beautiful weather while it lasted, understanding all too well that winter would be at their doorstep sooner rather than later. 
It gave studying (or in this case, procrastinating) a different atmosphere and one she could better enjoy with the company of two good friends. Aayla Secura and Stass Allie, who were both Ravenclaws of her year, were both behind on their respective assignments. Aayla often struggled to balance Quidditch with homework while Stass usually got into her own head to the point where she found it difficult to pick up a quill sometimes. Satine, herself, wasn’t actively behind, but used the time to edit Viz’s transfiguration essay on Animagi.
“Let’s take a break!” Aayla suggested for the third time that hour.
“Agreed!” Stass closed her textbook far too suddenly for anyone that believed they were to get anything done. “What do you guys want to do about Halloween?”
“You two do plan on passing fifth year, right?” Satine asked without looking up from the passage she’d been marking, “Because I’d hate to go to the trouble of finding two different girl best friends to pal around with in class.”
“Oh posh, we’ll figure it out.” Stass said, more like she was convincing herself rather than Satine, “Right?”
“Sure, if you focus for longer than 15 minutes at a time.” She squeezed her hand and inhaled the fresh soft breeze that swirled around them. “However, it is a lovely day and just looking at you both I can tell you won’t focus anyway… So, what’s up?”’
Aayla leaned forward on her elbows, a bright blue lekku falling over her shoulder as she did so. “As you both know, this is the first year we’re considered upperclassmen.”
“Seeing as we are no longer stuck in the middle of fourth year, yes, I’ve noticed.” Stass snorted, though seemed to already catch what Aayla was hinting at. 
Satine, who was half-dividing her attention to a hanging participle on Viz’s concluding statement, simply hummed in response. She loved her friends immensely, but they did tend to get easily distracted by mundane details. Not that there was anything particularly wrong about celebrating this fact, but when either talked about how ‘old’ they were getting, it only reminded Satine that their time was nearing thin at Hogwarts.
“And you know what that means…” She added.
“OWLS.” Satine responded blandly and Stass slid the parchment from underneath her and looked at her pointedly.
“What?” She asked.  
“Anyway,” Aayla continued, “That means we finally get to be invited to the Halloween bonfire this year.”
“Oh, brilliant.” Satine mused, “I’ve always been curious about those. Didn’t last year’s get sacked by Professor Windu for hosting a secret keg stand in the Forbidden Forest?”
“Sure did!” Stass said excitedly. “And you know with how rambunctious our year is that something is bound to happen.”
“I doubt I’ll be invited then. I’m a prefect!” Satine said.
Admittedly, she did really want to attend the bonfire. Despite its lesser popularity in England, Satine always enjoyed Halloween on principle. Dressing up, sweets, and the fresh crispness of a late autumn evening were all too appealing to resist. Plus, she was not easily frightened and could find humor in most horror films. 
“You’ll be fine!” Aayla waved her off. “You’re not a total stooge. If anything, it’s Kenobi that’s probably not in the best shape.”
She frowned, “Ben is not a stooge!”
“Of course you would say that.” Stass said coyly.
“And what, perchance, is that supposed to mean?” She shot back, feeling her face growing hot.
“He’s the most by-the-book person that’s ever walked the floors. Remember when he reminded Professor Yaddle about the homework when he’d been the only one who’d done it? I’m surprised he wasn’t walloped for that.”
“That was first year.” Satine complained, “He’s come a long way.”
“Yeah, and we all like him!” Stass said hurriedly, “Aayla bonds with him over Quidditch.”
“No matter how much he loathes it.” Aayla added.
“And we both share a predilection for Defense Against the Dark Arts! It’s just that you know, the troublemakers won’t be as easily convinced.”
“What’s he got to prove to them anyway?” Satine rolled her eyes, “It’s not enough that they’ve got to peak in primary school, but they’ve got to drag others down too? Who’s planning the party this year anyway?”
“Rumor mill says it’s Sora Bulq and his friends. Expectedly, it’s never anyone with any scholarly clout.” Aayla said matter-of-factly.
“Well, I’m going to have to have words with him then.” She said, “Diplomatically, of course, but to think you can go around choosing who can and can’t go to a school function is positively ridiculous.”
“But what if he decides not to invite you?” Stass asked, worried.
“I don’t want to go to any party where Ben is unwelcome.” She said and began packing up her things.
Aayla and Stass exchanged a look that was mighty suspicious to Satine, who was already fired up about this line of conversation. It was primitive to think that it was ever acceptable to exclude anyone for any reason, particularly when everyone else was there and would talk nonstop about it come that Monday morning. Whatever unspoken conspiracy that existed between her two friends would have to wait, because she was on her feet and storming up the hill before they could further comment. 
“Oh hell, she’s going to see to it that we never have one of these bonfires ever again, isn’t she?” Stass murmured.
“Yeah, we’re screwed.” Aayla said. 
***
Ever since Professor Palpatine had gifted it to him, Anakin had been all but glued to the enchanted map. As per their agreement, he never showed it to anyone and only studied it from beneath his bedsheets. It had been a lifesaver in terms of navigating his way around the halls. 
The map, like everything in the wizarding world, was enchanted to move in real time. At any time, he could see whoever moved around the school and where they were going. If this fell into the wrong hands (or right- prefects would have a field day), it could be used to exploit those that kept secrets.
And speaking of secrets, he couldn’t help but notice that every evening, Professor Dooku managed to vanish from the map altogether. At first, he assumed he aparated elsewhere, but apparition in Hogwarts was forbidden, even for professors. However, that theory was disproved when he casually brought it up to Obi-Wan, who told him that Dooku was one of the professors that lived on the grounds.
So… Where did he go?
There were so many hidden corridors and hallways that were not privy to students in the first place and Anakin yearned to see all of them. There was so much to uncover and unveil about Hogwarts and it was all sitting in a two-dimensional drawing in his hands. Perhaps, one day, he’d get the chance.
Not until Obi-Wan graduated, maybe, but it would happen.
***
Satine had enlisted Cody into her crusade just in case Bulq needed someone that was a little more physically imposing than a lanky blonde girl with pigtails. He was, expectedly, eager to help in this mission and was easily angered about the theory as well. Both had decided it was for the best to leave Obi-Wan out of the equation, since he’d never been fond of the prospect of anyone sticking their neck out for him like this. 
Still, she didn’t mind. She would have been mad if it had been anyone they were excluding… Even the likes of Hondo Ohnaka, who hardly ever seemed to take a bath. That morning, Hondo had excitedly expressed that he’d received an invitation, which matched the ones that Satine and Cody had also gotten. Obi-Wan had made no comment, but didn’t seem very bothered by it. Instead, he continued to eat his breakfast and try to dissect the scribble that was Anakin’s handwriting. 
“Not get an invitation? What the bloody hell is that about?” Cody asked as they stalked down the hall with a purpose that caused everyone to part the way. It was satisfying in a strange way.
“Because he’s a loser.” Sora Bulq laughed when they’d asked that very question.
“He is not a loser.” Satine said tightly, “If anything, you are the fool for failing to invite the biggest candidate for Head Boy of fifth year.”
“You’re lucky you were invited, muggle-born.” Bulq countered. “Not sure why you care much for him in the first place.”
Ventress, who stood not far off cackled, “She’s playing the part of the token muggle pet, Bulq. Please, let’s humor her.”
“Obi-Wan’s parents are extremely affluent.” Satine reconsidered her approach calmly, which drew a curious look from Cody. “And I’m sure they would not be happy to hear that their son was excluded from a social event that was formed by their greatest acquaintances’ children.”
Ventress stiffened at that. “And what exactly would you know about status?”
“I know that you don’t want to be the one to go toe-to-toe with the Kenobi’s, Ventress.”
The paler girl smiled menacingly, “Do they even know you exist? Why would they believe you anyway?”
“They might believe me.” Cody crossed his arms in a way that accentuated his biceps. He acted like he didn’t do it on purpose, but seeing how he was glaring at Bulq, he certainly was. It was certainly difficult to dispute that it worked. 
Bulq rolled his eyes, “Fine, whatever… But if he causes any funny business, I swear, Kryze, you will be the one hearing from me.”
“I’ve seen your wand work.” She raised an eyebrow, “So, I’m really not afraid of you.”
***
“Why are we doing this?” Whined Anakin as he slumped back in his seat to try and catch a better view of the window that glowed behind Obi-Wan. Compared to the radiant display of nature that existed peacefully outside, the room they sat in was dim and cold with only a black and white board between them.
“It’s important!” Obi-Wan said, “It places a good emphasis on patience, which judging by what Professor Windu tells me, you could use a little work on.”
Anakin crossed his arms and huffed, “So, I skipped ahead a little. I was only trying to get the guy to like me.”
“Accidentally setting Rex’s desk on fire is not the way to do that.” 
“I was trying to light the candle!” He complained, “The wind blew it out and I thought it would be an opportune time to display my skills… I just… Overshot it a little.”
“Mhmm.” Obi-Wan sized him up, “Qui-Gon and I started playing when I was your age. Wizard’s Chess is a very popular pastime in wizarding culture. You can sit back, relax, test your mind and spirit while chatting with a friend… Or foe.”
While Anakin definitely wanted to fit in more with his peers, he wasn’t sure chess was the right move for him. If they had video games, perhaps, he’d been more invested, but chess was still just chess… Even if the pieces moved on their own.
“Just cause you guys stick “wizard” in front of everything doesn’t make it special. You know that right?”
“Check mate.” Obi-Wan smirked as his bishop moved forward and physically slashed Anakin’s king into little crumbled pieces. “How do you not enjoy that?”
“Maybe because these pieces give awful advice.” He glared down at them. “Have they ever won before?”
“Well, that’s usually the set I use when I play Qui-Gon.” Obi-Wan winced, “So no, they’ve not seen a victory.”
Anakin opened his mouth to give him a colorful retort about the unfairness of those odds, but was interrupted by the storm that was Satine Kryze and Cody Fett as they burst into the room red-faced and waving an envelope.
“We’ve got it!” Cody beamed. 
“I see that.” Obi-Wan chuckled, “Just one question, what is ‘it’ that you have?”
Anakin was just relieved to be inadvertently rescued from another match of Wizard’s Chess, which was incredibly lazy since he didn’t even have to use his arms to move the pieces. He briefly wondered how there weren’t more overweight wizards and witches at the rate at which they avoided physically doing anything. 
“Your personal invitation to the Halloween bonfire.” Satine said as she smugly slammed it onto the chess board. 
Obi-Wan and Anakin both leaned over to see that yes, the orange and black cardstock was addressed to Obi-Wan and did, in fact, invite him to a party. 
“You didn’t tell me there was going to be a party!” Anakin said excitedly.
“Because there isn’t a party for you.” Cody said.
“It’s only for upperclassmen.” Satine added with that voice and look that said “so don’t even try it”.
Which to Anakin, made it all the more intriguing.
“I’m surprised I’m even invited, honestly.” Obi-Wan shrugged, “I’d already counted on not going. I signed up for the latest patrol.”
“Oh no you don’t,” Satine said sharply and she leaned forward with both hands firmly placed on the table, “You’re not slithering out of this one.”
“Yeah we went to a lot of-” Cody began hotly, but was elbowed in the gut by Satine, thus cutting off his statement.
“-Care to bring this to you.” She finished, though neither Obi-Wan or Anakin quite believed that’s what Cody was going to say.
“While I appreciate having my own personal mail carriers,” He joked to an unresponsive audience, “I am really not much for Halloween. Besides, everyone would have more fun if I wasn’t there anyway.”
“That’s not true!” Satine argued vehemently, “This is a rite of passage and you are not about to abandon us in favor of reading in your room and walking the halls. We’re not about to let you get in your own head about this.”
“Besides, it’s not like we’re going to tell your parents.” Cody rolled his eyes, “They’ll never know! The professors pretend not to know. If you don’t go, you’ll have a big “x” painted on you socially.”
“I think you’re both being a little dramatic.” Obi-Wan said carefully, but especially kept his focus on a very heated Satine. Even Anakin knew not to toil with the wrath of a frenzied woman, particularly if he didn’t have to.
“Dramatic? How are we supposed to have fun when we know you’re off somewhere moping and brooding?”
“I don’t brood.” He frowned, though Anakin knew his mentor did, in fact, brood.
“Whatever,” She rolled her eyes. “Excuse me for wanting to see you have a good time every now and then and for wanting you to go with me… And Cody!” Satine hurried. 
“I will carry you there by force if I must, mate.” Cody said.
After careful consideration and fiddling with his quill, Obi-Wan finally sighed, “Well, I already know neither of you will ever let me live it down if I don’t…”
Both Satine and Cody dropped their shoulders in relief and shared a bright smile. It seemed Obi-Wan could not help but be equally happy to see them happy. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan and Satine being indisposed at some top secret party meant that Anakin might actually get to enjoy his Halloween and explore Hogwarts to the fullest. 
***
“Found anything, you have not.” Headmaster Yoda said gravely, not even bothering to turn his chair to face Professor Windu’s solemn stare. 
“We’ve checked every accessible meter of this school, Headmaster.” He replied firmly. 
Yoda knew this wasn’t good enough. There were secrets this school held that went beyond his years- despite how few would believe that by looking at him. Yoda caught his own reflection off an antique bottle of wine gifted to him by the Minister of Magic as a Christmas present. Even in the distorted evergreen hues, his wrinkles were deep and the hair that scarcely covered his little green head was a pure white. In spite of this, he would never know the true mystery that their ancestors left them.
Secret rooms and passageways unbeknownst even to him, evil hexes and curses that were designed to scorn those that uncovered them. It rarely ever turned out well for the curious and the wandering. It was why they discouraged exploration. Prefects were also implemented and chosen carefully to prevent any incidents as well. 
It was one thing when it was merely old traps finally snapping on unsuspecting students, but there was no doubt that something more sinister was creeping under the surface. Yoda wished he could better explain why, but his dreams foretold an impending fate worse than death, itself. 
He’d expressed these dreams to the Minister of Magic, but received little insight. Valorum did not seem to understand the significance of dreams. While it was important to be mindful of them, it was not as though Yoda was staring all day in the mirror of erised. No, instead, Yoda had deeply meditated over each and every one and it all ended the same.
“In the ashes of hypocrisy…  the lords of the Sith return”
The corrupt whisper seemed to flow through him. He begged the magical forces to allow him a glimpse at a face, but he didn’t need to look this creature in the eyes to know it was the embodiment of pure darkness. 
“Feel it, you do?” He asked.
“Something is wrong.” Mace Windu admitted and lightning crashed behind him as though setting the dramatic tone. It would be humorous if Mace were the type to lean into theatrics. His friend and former pupil was nothing if not straightforward.
“Disturbances.” He hummed.
“Indeed,” Windu ran a hand over his smooth head. “We always used to say that the ghosts always know first. And yet…”
“Hm?”
“No ghosts.” He said darkly. 
Many were offended by Windu’s steely demeanor, but few truly understood his battle with the darker sides of magic. Every step he took was a labor of teetering the balance of good and evil. It was far from easy, and Yoda respected the consistent choice to be good that Windu made every single day. He was grateful for it too, because while Yoda had much more experience under his belt, Windu was likely the most powerful wizard that ever attended Hogwarts. However, he understood that with that power came exceptional measures of control and collectivity. If anyone that could be trusted, it was Windu.
Well, him and-
“Sorry I’m late, Headmaster.” Qui-Gon Jinn wrung out sopping hair onto the stone flooring, “I had the pleasure of inspecting the Quidditch pitches.”
While the less severe of the two, Qui-Gon Jinn was easily the wisest wizard that ever walked through Hogwarts. He was one of the younger professors employed at Hogwarts, but if not for the formidably brilliant Dooku, would have been an obvious choice as Head of House. 
“See anything?” Windu asked.
“Nothing that constitutes actual concern.” Qui-Gon said, “Though I did catch a few students out past curfew.”
“Do you think they were conspiring?” 
“Considering they were heading off to the Forbidden Forest with a picnic blanket and were caught up in a snogging fest when I got to them, I doubt it.” He smirked.
“Thoughts on this, do you have, Qui-Gon?” Yoda asked.
Yoda might have negated his own dreams had Qui-Gon not shared them verbatim. It was a frightening discovery they’d had one blinding summer morning. The bearded professor was sketching out a lesson plan, but continued doodling the dark mark at which they’d seen.
In Yoda’s dream, it had been carved in blood. 
“I heard a noise,” He said. “I was returning into the building and it was fleeting, but I’ve never heard it before.”
“Loud, was it?”
“I wouldn’t say it was particularly jarring, but odd. It sounded like two stone walls moving against one another, but in the distance.”
“Outside or inside?” Windu asked.
“I’m positive it was inside.” Qui-Gon said, “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, we haven’t got an intruder, sir.”
“Say that like it’s better, you do.” Yoda offered, “Troubling, it is, for us to question one of our own.”
“The question is who.” Windu said firmly, “We’ve not had any significant issues before this summer and all of our professors are fairly tenured.”
“I believe the question is why.” Qui-Gon interjected, “And I think it’s obvious.”
“Please don’t start.” Windu sighed, giving way impatience for a change and it reminded Yoda that it was well past midnight and everyone was exhausted. He’d admittedly run them all ragged in his attempts to keep everything as safe as possible. Neither ever protested, but eventually, it would start to get to them and temporary fixes would only do so much.
It didn’t help that Qui-Gon and Windu vehemently disagreed on the matter of prophecy.
“Don’t start?” Qui-Gon laughed sardonically, “You said it yourself that something is going on! Yoda and I saw the same dream and I’m telling you, it’s the chosen one. Why else would the dark symbol appear when it did all those months ago? It hadn’t been publically waved for 100 years, Mace.”
“Then why are the presented omens negative? The chosen one is meant to unite good and evil, if you believe in that sort of thing.” Windu stubbornly replied.
“With the rise of the light, there will be darkness… Or perhaps, it’s the other way around.” He said thoughtfully.
“True that is, Professor Qui-Gon.” Yoda said, “But young, the boy is, and innocent. Scare him, we shall not.”
“We cannot leave him in the dark for too long.” Qui-Gon said hastily. “He is not to be trained as any regular wizard if he is to truly bring balance.”
“We don’t even know if this boy is the chosen one.” Windu said, “I’m certainly not so sure.”
“Clouded, our judgment is.” Yoda said quietly. “Rest, we must. The future, we can never be truly prepared for.”
 ***
Approximately one kilometer beneath the surface, away from sleeping children and lumbering ghosts, who never quite got their fullest rest, a long and bony hand reached through the pocket of a gate, extending until it met its goal of the slumbering beast’s coarse scales. 
It didn’t move- it never did. It was so resigned to its fate. It’s only purpose is to wallow underground and play its part in the transfer of power. It was truly a marvel: how the natural world could be so gifted without any assigned meaning. It was senseless to let it go about and mindlessly destroy. There was much, much worse that could be done should that power land in the proper lap.
However, he was not in charge. He never would be. 
“We are not so far apart, my ferocious friend.” Tyranus’s deep voice echoed off the damp walls. Figureheads, shrouded in the persistent darkness that reflected their very souls, seemed to stare down at him disapprovingly. 
This beast was locked away, forced to be unknown by the outside world, serving as the life force for another in order to see that the means are worth the end result. That’s all Tyranus would ever be… The pawn… The tool… The beast.
But he would not lose himself, entirely. He had his own objectives and his own mind, just as this creature likely once had. He would see them through even if it killed him.
The day he joined, he was upfront about his refusal to be consumed. To be consumed by the darkness would only make him weak, because to be obsessed with anything lowered one’s sensibilities. It was the very thing that brought down the statued men and women that gazed down at him- forever sullen and hidden away. They were scorned by their own refusal to look at things logically, which to him, was the problem with the current state of affairs.
He did not need the satisfaction of burning the world as many sith did. No, he was content with broken spirits vs broken bodies- not because Tyranus had a conscience. He was merely more pragmatic than he was lethal. Power came in many forms, but he would prefer to master the power of the mind. 
The beast howled in pain at the drain. Tyranus felt no pain for this beast, but he felt no pleasure either. He felt nothing.
And that… That would all change once he got his hands on that cursed boy. 
“You deserve a true sacrifice.” He whispered quietly.
***
Rex was exhausted. He’d been double checking Krell’s history essay during dinner so he’d had to make a run down to the kitchens to grab something to eat. Of course once he’d come back, Krell had admonished him for his “poor work” and had sent him back down to the kitchens to get him another dessert as punishment. Rex tried not to think about the anger that buzzed about his head when he remembered how Krell had tossed Rex’s own history essay back at him, with no corrections, but covered vaguely in what he hoped was sticky pudding.
He knew Anakin would have told him to fight back, but Anakin, unlike Rex, didn’t have looming threats sent in his direction. More than once, Krell had threatened to obliviate him when he’d caught Anakin giving him the stink eye from across the common room and Rex knew Krell could easily provoke his older brother, Cody, and he did not want to be the reason his brother got booted from the Quidditch team.
“Tell anyone about this and you’ll be joining the ranks of your more useless family members,” Was one of Krell’s current favorite lines of threatening.
Rex tried to take it in stride. He’d only brought up the matter once to Professor Windu. His professor just reminded Rex that mentors were selected on merit and if Mr. Krell hadn’t been fit for the role, he would not have been selected.
So Rex just pushed down any emotion other than his complete exhaustion and pushed open the door to his dormitory.
Despite it being quite late, he was mildly surprised to see Anakin was awake and, from the looks of it, plotting something. The moment Rex’s face was bathed in the soft firelight of the room Anakin was beckoning him over with a frantic hand wave. As much as Rex wanted to dive straight into his four-poster bed and draw the curtains, he approached his friend's bed with a look of resignation.
“Rex! I’ve been looking all over for you,” Anakin chirped excitedly and pulled over what looked to be an old homework assignment, turned into scrap paper, “I’ve just heard of this party, it’s for the older students, but honestly how could we not go!” Rex suddenly felt as if a rock had fallen into his stomach as he slowly peered down at the notes and saw one of the subheadings was labeled: Fancy Dress Ideas.
“You wouldn’t mean,” Rex asked slowly, “the Halloween party?”
“Yes, yes exactly,” Anakin continued hurriedly, not noticing anything amiss, “Satine and Cody told me I couldn’t go, but there has to be a way to sneak in,” Anakin’s hand dragged through the ink, smearing out a few of his outfit ideas as he continued to doodle a crude map of the castle grounds, “Obviously you should come with me, we’ll be the coolest first years the castle’s ever seen. I’m sure even your brother wasn’t this bold,” Anakin grinned up at him, before his grin slowly faded into a confused expression as he caught Rex’s eye for the first time, “Well, you do want to go don’t you?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to try and sneak in with you,” Rex tried to think of a way to phrase his thoughts, worried about accidentally losing the only friend who had been willing to stick around despite all of Krell’s errands, “It’s just that… I’ll already be attending the party,” He’d intended on continuing, but was cut off rather quickly.
“What?!” Anakin whisper shouted, which really for him was almost like shouting, but just barely managing not to wake up their whole dormitory, “They invited you but not me? Not that you’re not great and all,” Anakin tacked on rather haphazardly, “But I mean! I’ve gotten on the Quidditch team and everyone’s still talking about when I accidently transfigured that tree branch into a real piece of gold instead of a saucer,” He would have continued, but Rex had already had quite enough this evening.
“It’s not like I even want to go!” He matched Anakin’s near shout, but paused as they both heard one of their fellow students turn over, after a moment of silence he continued with whispered frustration, “It’s Krell! He’s making me go with him, doubt it will be much fun for me,” He finished miserably, and slowly Anakin’s jealousy simmered into quiet anger at his friend's mentor.
“That Krell,” Anakin muttered darkly, “Wish I could practice a few jinx’s on him,” Rex shook his head.
“That’ll only make him worse,” Rex said with a frown, the feeling of being dragged down, like he was barely holding his own in an ocean set to drown him, was returning. He was quite ready to banish that sensation in his dreams so he made his way to his own trunk and started dressing for bed.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t imagine it,” Anakin said wistfully, but as if sensing Rex’s unwillingness to discuss the topic any longer he changed the subject, “I guess Power Rangers are out,” he scratched his quill over an option in his list, “It’ll be no fun if it’s just me,” Rex, who had gotten into his bed, turned back around to face Anakin with a look of bafflement on his face.
“What in the bloody hell is a ‘Power Ranger’?”
***
Knowing that Rex wouldn’t be accompanying his big night out certainly put a damper on his Halloween plans. That’s not to say that Anakin required a co-conspirator in order to execute his plans, but he did appreciate the company. This sort of plan did require an additional hand anyway. Everyone needed a good look-out and thus far, Rex had been exceptional.
So, he mulled over his options. He needed someone that wouldn’t otherwise have any plans and would likely want to participate in such an act. It was going to be a tough criteria, but there were possibilities. There was Hondo Ohnaka, who would likely be kicked out of the bonfire anyway and itching to get back in. It helped that Hondo was sneaky and would appreciate the knowledge of an underground system to run his pirated muggle goods inside.
Then again, Hondo knowing such a system existed could be exploited and Palpatine and Anakin could somehow be dragged down for that.
His eyes drifted (far from the first time) to Padm é Amidala, who despite how desperately Anakin wanted to work up the courage to talk to, was a terrible idea for this caliber of mission. She was far too popular and should any of her pack of girls find out, the whole school would know in a heartbeat. Besides, he would definitely not be able to focus if she was in a spitting distance from him.
He glanced over at Sebulba and rolled his eyes at even briefly considering inviting the cretin. 
“What do you think, Rex?” He asked as the two of them wolfed down their breakfasts.
“I think you’re probably giving this plan more thought that you should.” His friend said, “You’re planning on busting into a party with all the prefects there. You know the professors are gonna be scanning the corridors like hawks.”
“I’ve got a way.” He said slyly, because he hadn’t explained the extent of the map to Rex just yet. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust him, but that it was more of a need-to-know type of arrangement. He promised Palpatine he wouldn’t squeal and he was good on that promise. 
“Whatever you say, mate.” He shrugged, “Good luck finding a bloke who’s smart, quiet, and desperate enough for a good time that he’s willing to lay down a year of detention on the line for a prank.”
“We’ll be dressed up.” He said, “They’ll never know it’s- That’s it! I know who I need.”
Rex’s eyes widened at the sudden revelation, but Anakin was far too excited to share his good news. He’d been stupid not to think of it in the first place. The person of choice was right beneath his nose and the most unassuming character at Hogwarts. All this kid needed was a friend and he’d likely do whatever needed to be done. Plus, they’d have fun.
Pre Vizsla looked over his textbook in confusion as to why Anakin was sitting across from him in the library. To be fair, Anakin never elected to spend any voluntary time here. Usually, Obi-Wan and Satine had dragged him along thus far. Vizsla had been there too, but didn’t say a peep. Oftentimes, Anakin forgot the kid was there at all unless to ask Satine a question.
“Um, hello?” He said.
Anakin grinned and folded his hands, “Viz, I feel like it’s pretty criminal that we haven’t talked much.”
“Okay.” The boy blinked, dumbfounded.
“I mean, your mentor and my mentor are best friends. AND they’re prefects. They’re shoo in’s for Head Boy and Head Girl when their time comes. And us, we’re the little guys, the underdogs, the-”
“-Did you need something, Anakin?” He asked, not quite maliciously, but definitely a bit exhausted of Anakin’s vibrato. “Because I’m kind of in the middle of-”
“-Reading, yeah, you do that a lot.” Anakin nodded, “And while that’s cool and all, I think we should definitely be hanging out more. I mean, we’re practically family… Distant family, but still, the bond is there.”
Viz quietly closed his book and set it down. “Youwant to hang out with me.”
“We’ve got a lot in common.” Anakin said.
“Besides how close our mentors are, what exactly do we have in common?” He asked.
“Well…” Admittedly it took Anakin probably a beat too long, because Viz began packing up his things as if to leave, but he stuck a hand out to stop him.
“Look, I just think you could probably try to loosen up, you know? Have a little fun? It’s got to be exhausting having Satine as a mentor. I’m pretty sure if you looked ‘fun’ up in the dictionary, the definition would be “not Satine”, am I right?”
Viz shrugged, “We mostly talk about my homework or how I’m settling into school.”
“And sometimes, a guy needs a break from all of that.” Anakin said, “I would know, because Obi-Wan is always riding me about school or about how I carry myself. He’s worried about my posture for some reason now. It’s exhausting.”
Viz actually snorted and ran a hand over his shaved head, which was practically down to the scalp, “Yeah, I know that feeling.”
“Excellent, so do something fun with me. Halloween night. None of the prefects will be around so it’ll be great.”
“I’m not going to sign up for something that I don’t understand what we’ll be doing.” Viz pointed out. “That’s just foolish.”
This was valid. Anakin did already build a slight reputation as a prankster and few wanted to go down with the ship. Not everyone was as reliable and loyal as Rex. Still, Rex wasn’t an option for Halloween and Anakin wouldn’t mind actually bonding with Viz.
“We’re going to the Halloween bonfire.”
“What?” Viz frowned, “The one for upperclassmen?”
“The very same! You’re kind of the quiet and obedient type, right?” Anakin said, “So people would actually believe you if you were to say… Go to the library and study completely on your own.”
“Like today.”
“That’s what you’re doing? It’s lunch time!” Anakin said, briefly distracted before going back to his plan. “Maybe you could even be ‘tutoring’ me in this scenario. We need an alibi. That’s the important part. So long as we’ve got a concrete alibi, we’re in the clear if all goes smoothly.”
“Mhmm…”
“My sources say that the candy and sweets at this party are going to be ridiculous. They’re even having a pinata full of the stuff. Well, let’s just say I know a shortcut or two out of the castle and to the woods… Exactly where the party is being held. We jump in, fully dressed up so nobody knows the difference, snatch, the pinata, and go back to the school!”
Viz seemed to think this over for a good bit, “What kind of sweets?”
“Anything you can imagine, dude. You’re a muggle-born, right?”
Viz stiffened, “Yeah, why?”
“Well, I was pretty much raised like one too so I get the hype about wizard candy and I’d like as much of it as I can get my hands on.”
“I am collecting the trading cards from the frog boxes.” Viz said. “Alright, I’ll do it, but on one condition: you can’t show me the entrance. It’s best if only one of us knows. I don’t want to know your sources or anything. I’ll be your watchdog and your alibi, because that’s what I’m assuming you need in the first place. That’s all.”
This was even better than Anakin had imagined! He felt the folded map in his sweatshirt pocket, relieved that he didn’t need to explain his way around this one. Instead, Viz was completely satisfied with operating behind the scenes. Technically, the idea of a “lookout” was likely futile given the nature of the map, but Anakin was not 100% positive on its accuracy just yet and did not want to discover any faults during a live demonstration. Besides, poltergeists and ghosts moved so fast that he could easily be caught otherwise. 
“50/50 candy split then?” He asked, while already mentally debating how much Rex would require after such a stressful night.
“Deal.” 
The two boys spit on their respective hands and clasped them across the table in solidarity. Anakin had a good feeling about this.
***
Despite her insistence to get Obi-Wan invited to the party, Satine truly hadn’t given too much thought into her own attire. She’d assumed she would figure something out that weekend when she wasn’t up to her nose with midterm assignments. This task was doubled when she considered Viz’s studies, but the boy had been improving magnificently as of late and required very little editing. She wondered if she would have the pleasure of being the mentor to a Head Boy in the making. 
It seemed everyone else around her was just buzzing about the impending bonfire. While she was enthusiastic about the occasion, she didn’t understand quite the level of hype that was circulating the school. Then again, she’d never been to a wizarding-styled party such as this before. 
Stass and Aayla were no different in their bubbling excitement and truthfully, it was nice to brainstorm ideas if at all possible. 
Aayla flopped backwards onto the couch in the common room, exhausted from her Quidditch practice.
“They’ve been working you hard, huh?” Stass asked.
“Harder than ever.” She puffed out a breath, “I don’t think I’ll ever move again if that’s alright with you folks. Just drag my limp body here and there. I’m sure I’ll be alright. I’ll eat the scraps of food you drop… Should my jaw stop hurting.”
“You could, and this is just a thought,” Satine began, “Go to the hospital wing.”
“What do you take me for? A sissy?” She winced as she turned her head too fast.
“I thought I took you for someone with more than one operating braincell.”
“You would be wrong.” Stass snorted.
Aayla stuck her tongue out at them, “I’ve not got the worst of it. Your boy could hardly walk straight after today’s practice, Satine.”
She stiffened, not even bothering to dignify the insinuation with a response, “Is he alright?”
Her blue friend’s mouth curled into a smirk, “Yeah, just had a rough go of it when the quaffle went rogue and smacked him into the post.”
Satine did everything not to appear overly invested or concerned, but she couldn’t help it. She despised Quidditch and the overwhelming fixation everyone seemed to have on it. It was not like she didn’t possess house or school spirit. She was invested in the overall competition between houses to achieve the most points throughout the year. Such a competition actually involved the merits and strengths of each student’s character rather than how bloody and battered they could make each other during a sport’s match. 
While not all that interested in muggle sports, they hardly became as deadly as Quidditch ever so casually was to wizards. It blew her mind just how little regard the lives of students were taken into consideration every single match. She felt her heart was in her throat every single time she was subjected to watching Obi-Wan or Cody play. Cody lived for the sport and the amount of fun he had while on the field was almost contagious if she hadn’t almost seen him die on the regular by how careless he was.
Then, there was Obi-Wan, who also disliked Quidditch, though for reasons different from her own. He hated flying, for one thing, which had been obvious since their first year. There was also the pressure that came with Quidditch that Obi-Wan didn’t appreciate. It wasn’t that he was bad- quite the opposite, but he definitely got into his own head. For him, it was the obligation that came with being good at Quidditch that made him dislike it. She couldn’t exactly blame him.
Still, she knew it was her duty to cheer him on despite her reservations about the sport. He needed someone who was actively rooting for him in the crowd. The smile on his face when he saw her after a match was worth enough of her own discomfort sitting through each game. 
“Did he go to the hospital wing?” Satine asked carefully.
“Do you take him for a sissy, Satine?” Aayla asked.
“It’s not being a sissy to get help when required, you nitwit.”
“Don’t mind her, she’s just been hit upside the head too much with the bludger.” Stass chuckled, “What I really want to know, is what we’re doing for Halloween?”
“I know I hit my head pretty hard on the pitch, but I could have sworn we had this conversation last week.” Aayla feigned forgetfulness and now it was Satine’s turn to laugh.
“We did, but we’ve got to talk logistics.”
“Now, you’re sounding like a true Ravenclaw.” Satine murmured. “What are the logistics of going to a party?”
“Well, it is a fancy dress sort of party.” She smiled, eyes suddenly aglow. “And I know what we should go as.”
“We? Like a group ensemble?” Satine hadn’t considered it, but she’d been foolish not to. It would certainly be more fun to coordinate and then she’d be able to collaborate on constructing her attire. 
“We should go as the three witches from the Fountain of Fair Fortune. It’s perfect!” Stass said.
“I like it!” Aayla agreed, “We would look smart as all hell.”
“Weren’t you considering dressing as some important Quidditch player?” Satine asked.
“I can be a jock and wear fluffy dresses, Satine. A girl can have multiple layers.”
She rolled her eyes and considered it, “Well, I do quite love the fairy tale. It’s one of the first pieces of wizarding literature that I read upon discovering my abilities. I especially appreciate it now for its forward-thinking mindset of uniting the two-”
“-I could go as Altheda, Aayla as Asha, and Satine could be Amata.” Stass interrupted what would have been an in-depth analysis on the underlying politics of the story. 
“I thought Amata was your favorite.” Satine prompted curiously. 
“But you look the most like her.” She returned.
Satine couldn’t quite argue with that logic, but that was merely because Amata was drawn to be a blonde. However, Aayla was blue and likely didn’t resemble any of the illustrated witches, so it wasn’t exactly sound reasoning through and through. Either way, she was looking forward to being a part of it.
“Alright, I’m in.” She smiled and both girls beamed.
“Brilliant!” They said in unison after sharing a conspiring grin. 
Satine didn’t know what to think of that, but part of her suspected there was more to this decision that met the eye. Either way, it couldn’t have been that harmful. So what if her friends wanted to throw her in a beautiful dress for one evening? She wasn’t opposed to the idea of looking a bit silly for a night. It was all in the spirit of the holiday.
***
Halloween finally arrived at Hogwarts with the all too perfect backdrop of an ominous full moon, promising the varying howls of excitable creatures from the nearby forbidden forest. While underclassmen were fairly nonplussed by the evening, seeing as they didn’t have any specific plans, the upperclassmen busily prepared the final touches on their outfits and readied themselves for an exciting evening of sweets and spooky stories. Seeing as the Slytherins were in charge this year, it was to no surprise that it was going to be especially traditional.
Obi-Wan had signed up for the most inconvenient patrol slot for any hopeful fifth year that was finally being allowed the coveted idea of socialization, but he didn’t care as much for it as his peers. Qui-Gon had been nice enough to offer finishing his rounds so he could get ready, but Obi-Wan didn’t have anything specific to wear anyway.
“You’re going dressed like that?” Qui-Gon mused as they walked together, “To a fancy-dress party? I never thought this day might come, but I think you’re underdressed.”
While he was indifferent to the holiday as a whole, he didn’t really have anything fitting to wear even if he wanted to. So, he opted for more casual-wear with nice slacks and a sweater. It was getting rather chilly outside.
“I’m really just popping in for Satine and Cody’s sakes,” He chuckled, “I think they went to more effort than they’re leading on to get me invited.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“It would be illogical to invite me.” He said, “Satine and myself swore an oath that we would be the picture of responsibility. Either of us would report wrongdoing and the party historically always has something go awry.”
“But they invited Satine without question?”
“If I were to get caught at some sort of keg-stand, my parents would have a fit. They are friends with Sora Bulq and Asajj Ventress’ parents, after all. Satine could probably go unnoticed if it got out- seeing as her family are muggles.”
And hearty drinkers, but he left that bit out. 
“Still, it’s a rite of passage.” Qui-Gon said. “One that you deserve to experience to the fullest extent.”
“Everyone keeps saying that like it’s official.” He said as they rounded a corner. “It’s not like graduation or anything. It’s hardly even an official holiday in the UK, let alone the wizarding world.”
His mentor smiled somberly, “You know, it’s okay to act your age every once in a while. Even Satine is doing so.”
“Why do I feel like she already ranted about me in your office today?”
“Hey, what occurs in my office hours is between me and the disagreeable student who is projecting their frustrations at me.”
“Good to know she cares.” Obi-Wan quipped.
“Oh, she definitely does.” 
They walked in silence for a while, nodding cordially at some of the ghosts that drifted around the halls. It was a peaceful time at Hogwarts, which is part of the reason Obi-Wan took the shift. He hadn’t expected the company of Qui-Gon, who was always a very busy man, but he’d always managed to make time when he was needed, even if the student wasn’t aware his services of advice were required.
“I suppose parties just have never quite been my forte.” He said with a shrug, “I always wind up feeling like I’m on the outside looking in, which might surprise some- seeing as my family has thrown parties all of the time.”
“Adult parties and kid parties, you’ll find, are very different.” Qui-Gon said.
“Are you sure? Because in my experience, politics are still everywhere.” Obi-Wan countered. “Only difference is my friends will be at this one.”
“Well then, you better get going.”
“But-”
“-Obi-Wan, I know it’s been a while since I’ve been a prefect, but I know how to perform a proper perimeter sweep. Get going. I look forward to the inevitable argument between you and Ms. Kryze that I’ll be refereeing tomorrow.”
“We don’t always argue.” He grumbled as he began to walk away before turning around. “Thank you, sir.”
***
Technically, the plan wasn’t enacted until they’d been witnessed studying in the library. Most first years didn’t take Halloween too seriously, since there wasn’t much for them to do aside from telling ghost stories from their common rooms, so it wasn’t unusual for them to be occupying the space. The ghosts were definitely getting a little rowdier than usual, but Anakin learned by now that if you simply gave them the attention they sought after, they typically went away on their own.
“What am I tutoring you in?” Viz asked, “We don’t have classes together.”
“Sure, but we have the same classes.” Anakin said, “How about Herbology? That’s the most boring to me.”
“How?” He brightened, “You didn’t enjoy studying the seeds of-”
“-Sh!” Anakin quickly opened his book as Satine approached the two of them. He hastily spun it around so it was facing the proper way and hoped she didn’t notice. Lucky for him, she seemed more focused on adjusting the sashes on her light pink gown, which was rather extravagant and trailed behind her even as she walked. 
Being that he was 11 years old, Anakin really wasn’t the type of person to get tripped up on wardrobe or frilly dresses, but even by his account, she looked transformed, which was the entire point of Halloween in the first place. Her hair was down and flowing in meticulous blonde waves that fell down her back, the top part of which was braided and clipped away from her face. She was wearing makeup, which was unusual for Satine, so her eyes seemed to glow like contemplative azure orbs.
“Neat outfit!” He chirped, “Are you a princess?”
She smiled at him. “Actually, I’m one of the witches from-”
“-Fountain of Fair Fortune!” Viz finished excitedly and off Anakin’s confused gaze, flushed, “It’s one of my favorite fairy tales. I’m guessing you are supposed to be the lovely Amata?”
She curtsied in response, “Indeed, I am.”
Viz nodded in approval, “It’s very book-accurate, Satine. Though I always took you as more of an Altheda for her hardworking attributes.”
“My friends insisted.” She rolled her eyes and off Anakin’s confused expression, explained, “In the story, my character hopes that the fountain of fair fortune will ease her grievances over her broken heart. Then, in the end, she winds up falling in love with a muggle knight.”
“It’s very controversial.” Viz added.   
“Oh! Never heard of it.” Anakin admitted and then looked back to Satine, “What’s Obi-Wan being?”
“Not sure, honestly. He’s still on patrol last I heard.” She said, “What are you two up to?”
“Studying herbology.” Anakin said, “Viz is tutoring me.”
Her bright smile told him that she’d bought it. “That’s a brilliant idea! Well, don’t let me interrupt. I was actually looking for Ben.”
“We’ll see you later! I’ll be an herbology expert thanks to this kid.” Anakin called after her.
“Laying it on a bit thick there, hm?” Viz muttered, “I’ve seen your marks. They’re not great.”
“Point is, alibi is sealed.” He winked. 
***
“I thought you were going to the bonfire.” Fives said as Cody tugged his red and gold sweater over his head. 
“Yeah, if you’d just said you were going out for late-night practice, you could have at least warned us. We wouldn’t mind getting off the bench this year, dear brother.” Echo said. 
“Relax, boys, I am going to the bonfire.” Cody waved them off, “But if you get good enough to get off the bench, I’ll play you.”
“Whatever happened to brotherly love?” Fives asked. Other than a slight height difference (was Echo the taller one?), the twin third years were nearly undetectable and used it to their advantage. 
“Yeah? And where was that spirit when the two of you filled my pillow with peanut butter?”
“That is love.” Echo smirked, “But why are you wearing your Quidditch uniform?”
“For the party.”
“But you wear it every day, it hardly qualifies.” Fives pointed out.
“Let’s not point fingers about wearing the same thing every day there, lad.” And truthfully, the only reason Cody knew it was Fives was because he never took his favorite Chudley Cannons jersey off- number 5, Tup. “And if you were paying any real attention, you’d notice this is my old Quidditch uniform.”
“And? You’re going as a growth spurt?” Echo quipped.
Cody didn’t dignify that with a response and instead whipped out his wand to conjure up the spell he’d been practicing prior to the party, thus turning the water by his bedside table into a white paste. After rubbing that on his face, he took out the liquid eyeliner he’d borrowed from Satine (evidently, muggles applied this manually) and surrounded his eyes with the black goop.
“I’m a zombie player!” He said and took in his appearance with satisfaction in the mirror.
Because really, did they actually expect him to sully up his brand new uniform for a stupid bonfire? 
“Really couldn’t have turned that into wine or whiskey and made it a real party, huh?” Fives said after a while. “Because people are going to need it to like looking at you.”
“Looks better than usual.” Echo jested.
“A lot better than you lot do.” Cody shoved him back against the bed and they laughed before retaliating in kind. In the scuffle, a lump of white bedsheet slithered behind him and towards the door. Not too busy rough-housing the twins, Cody stuck a boot down on the tail end of the sheet that dragged along the floor and watched as Rex emerged as he continued walking.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He said around a laugh, “You and Skywalker got something planned? Don’t even think about getting my star into detention.”
“Can’t believe he plays some first year over us.” Grumbled Fives.
“You’ve seen the kid. He’s crazy.” Echo said in amazement. “Knocked the teeth right out of Professor Tiin’s head the other day.”
Rex sighed, “Oh, no. I mean, I’m sure Anakin does, but I’m actually…” And he murmured something indistinct, avoiding his brother’s gaze.
Cody frowned, “Got some marbles in your mouth there, Rexy?”
“Baby brother’s got a secret.” Fives said cheekily. “Is it a girl?”
“No!” Rex twisted his face in immediate disgust, which was fair. The boy was only 11 and had other interests that far outweighed the female species. Cody was right there with him most of the time, seeing as there was always a game to play. However, Cody could not dispute that something was visibly bothering him. Rex was the very worst at keeping secrets amongst his brothers. And there was only one way to get it out of him.
“Alright boys, I got the feet.” Cody said.
As if he was their drill sergeant, Fives and Echo leapt into action before Rex could even have the presence of thought to react. As promised, Cody went for Rex’s ankles while Fives and Echo each grabbed an arm and pinned him down. The other Gryffindor boys could only watch as the three older boys tickled their youngest brother without mercy, knowing every spot to hit and just how crazy it would drive him.
“STOP!” Rex cackled and squirmed, which was contagious, but not enough to deter his brothers from the task at hand.
“Sure, buddy, once you tell us what you’re sneaking off to.” Cody said calmly. 
“I hate you guys!” Rex complained, but continued to thrash around as they upped the speed at which they poked at his most susceptible areas. 
“As you know, this can and will get worse the longer it goes on.” Fives said.
Sure, they were making a scene, but this was typical behavior for the clones and most just stepped over Rex and went about their business without paying it too much mind. Cody prided himself on how his whole family managed to make their mark in such a way that regardless of the incarnation, was expected of them. He wondered if his kids would one day maintain the reputation.
“ALRIGHT ALRIGHT I GIVE!” Rex shouted and thrashed around until the tickling stopped. However, they didn’t release their strongholds on his limbs and he released a tired grunt when he realized he wasn’t breaking free.
“I’m going to the bonfire.” He said simply.
“If you think I’m going to let you in-” Cody began.
“-Krell is taking me.” He interjected and Cody dropped his ankles.
“He’s what?” He said, ice freezing his veins. “Why?”
“I don’t know? To fetch him drinks and stuff? That’s mostly what I’ve been doing anyway. Just please don’t make a big deal of it, Cody.”
Cody nodded to Fives and Echo to release Rex’s arms and they obeyed immediately, but didn’t go far from him. 
“That creep is using you like you’re some sort of slave and you expect me not to make a big deal of it?” Cody boomed and turned around to face the rest of the dormitory, “Where is that crud face?”
“I think he already left.” He said and tugged at Cody’s arm, “If you confront him, he’s only going to make it worse for me and for you! He’s a prefect, Cody!”
“I don’t care.” He shook off his little brother, “Put on your bed sheet. We’re going to the party and I’m going to give that punk a piece of my mind.”
***
After seeing that Anakin and Viz were in good shape for the evening, Satine met Stass and Aayla by the common room to attend the party together. She’d been unable to trace down either Cody or Obi-Wan, but figured they’d been going together (if Obi-Wan went at all- which would not surprise her). Both girls were putting final touches on their own dresses when she appeared and they smiled at her brightly.
“Oh, you look beautiful, Satine.” Stass beamed, “Total Amata.”
“You two do as well,” She blushed, “Thank you both for the assist. It never would have happened without either of you.”
Both Aayla and Stass’s renditions of the classic dresses were also well assembled with Stass’s Altheda sporting an evergreen gown with a white bonnet to push back her dreadlocks and Aayla’s Asha gown being a more faded blue than she was and dotted with small rhinestones that made it appear as if it were sparkling in lowlight.
She was relieved they’d opted to use a thicker fabric in constructing their gowns, which while this made it more tedious (even with magic), worked out for the best in contrast to the frigid evening air that greeted them when they stepped outside.
“You ever think it strange that the forest is literally tacked as “forbidden” and we are still allowed to blissfully congregate right beside it?” Satine asked.
“Well, it’s been years since a student died there. Guess Headmaster Yoda just has other things to worry about.” Aayla shrugged.
They’d more or less heard the bonfire before truly seeing the full extent of the party, but upon walking through a charmed clearing that forbade any younger students, the three girls basked in the glory of teenage immunity as various witches and wizards of their year and older danced to loud music around a large flame. The fire, itself, was fake, since students had a history of burning themselves at the party. The warm glow felt authentic and if still presented with marshmallows or hotdogs, would toast them properly. The most impressive bit about the fire was how it flickered between an array of colors. Presently, it was lime green.
Each participant was dressed in a wide range of apparel, some casually donning a mask or a silly hat and others going significantly more in-depth. It was a relief, in a sense, to know she wasn’t the most ornate at the party. That prize certainly went to one Aurra Sing, a sixth year, who regardless of the chilly weather, seemed to have no problem trouncing about in little more than full green glitter body paint, yellow contacts, extensive face makeup, and a cape that emulated scales. Her teeth were even reminiscent of actual spikes.
“Look at Hondo and his buddies.” Stass chuckled as the boys followed Aurra around like she had been dangling a piece of meat on a stick for them to follow. All of the boys were dressed as pirates. Hondo even sported a peg-leg.
“Everyone looks pretty-” Satine was cut off by someone blindsiding her as they moved past, thus sloshing whatever their red beverage was onto the front of her dress.
“Oops!” Ventress raised a hand to her mouth in fake concern, “My bad, Duchess.”
She cringed at the derogatory nickname, which was born of Ventress’ firm belief that Satine thought she was better than everyone else. 
“You,” She hissed, shivering at the way the cold drink seeped through the fabric and to her skin. It was as though the breeze was perfectly timed to bustle through the trees. “You did that on purpose!”
“And what if I did? No knight to save you?” She said coolly. 
“No, actually, I’m quite adept at solving my own problems, thank you. Really, I’m more surprised you had the mental capacity to read the book in the first place.”
Ventress narrowed her venomous blue eyes and placed her hands on her hips, “My family had to be quite familiar with it, seeing as my parents participated in the trial to get it barred from shelves.”
“You say that as though it’s something to be proud of.” She returned, ignoring Stass and Aayla, who tried to lead her away from the witch, but while Satine would never condone the pitiful usage of violence, was never one to back down from a debate.
“Ridding the world of paltry propaganda is more noble than playing fantasy.”
Satine crossed her arms, “And yet, the Ministry of Magic didn’t see it that way.”
“That’s because of Headmaster Yoda- the old fool.” She scowled. “His lack of foresight will bring the end of our community.”
“Go on, you can say hate group.” Satine retorted darkly, “Otherwise, I don’t think I’m the one enraptured in fantasy.”
A small smile flickered on Ventress’s lips, “Now, now, Duchess, to hate you, would mean I’d have to care the slightest bit about you.”
As she sashayed away from the three girls, looking wretchedly pleased with herself, Satine, clenched her fist. She wasn’t sure why Asajj Ventress so obviously had it out for her, specifically. She knew she disliked muggles and muggle borns, but there were plenty of those running about Hogwarts for her to harass. This hadn’t started occurring until around their third year, but it had only gotten worse since Satine had been named prefect.
“Nice face paint, though! Really scary!” Satine called after her, knowing good and well that Ventress was not wearing face paint. It was from this distance that it ironically occurred to Satine that Ventress was dressed as an angel.
A pretty scantily dressed angel, but an angel all the same.
“Yeah… You showed her.” Stass muttered dryly and Aayla nudged her.
“Look who decided to show up!”
Satine turned the other direction to see one Obi-Wan Kenobi walking with hands in his pockets and looking drastically out of place in khaki pants and a gray sweater, lacking absolutely any indication that he was attending anything remotely festive.
Perhaps it was because she was still reeling off her encounter with Ventress, but Satine stormed through Aayla and Stass like a hurricane and stalked up to him, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him to the side. 
He eyed her up and down, eyes wide. “Wow, you look-”
“-What are you doing?” She demanded, and fought to ignore the heat that was climbing way to her cheeks.
“Hello to you too.” He frowned, forgoing whatever he was about to say. “I’m doing well, thank you for asking. How are you?”
“I’d be doing better if you had an ounce of holiday spirit.” She sighed and looked around her, trying to find something- anything- to fix into a quick costume for him. 
“I told you I’m not much for Halloween.” He said, but when she fixed her stare back to him, his eyes quickly snapped from where they’d been inspecting her dress again to hers.
“Yes, well, that won’t do in the slightest.”
As if reading her mind, Stass cut into the conversation with a metallic serving tray. At first, Satine was confused, but her friend grinned in response.
“You could always use it to fasten a knight’s helmet real quick.”
She nodded, “Oh, thank you, that is- Wait.”
A rogue giggle escaped from Stass’s lips and she hastily covered her mouth with wide eyes before scurrying out of arm’s length and over to a much less ashamed Aayla, whose head was tilted back in full-fledged laughter. 
“So that was their little plan all along.” She growled under her breath, gripping onto the serving tray with vice-like strength. How could she have been stupid enough to walk right into this trap?
“Satine?” Obi-Wan’s confused voice cut into her seething brain and his eyes were even more perplexed when she turned back to look at him. “What’s wrong with that idea?”
She opened her mouth to explain her shortsightedness and caught herself, tongue suddenly going fat as her words turned to dust. Instead, she just tried to rack her brain for an explanation that wasn’t absolutely humiliating and could feel herself going redder by the moment. She looked from the serving tray and the proposed idea of his becoming a knight, then back to her own dress, and most damningly, the charmingly concerned look on his face.
“Are you feeling alright?” He asked after she’d stammered like an idiot for a moment. He reached out and gently pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. “You’re flushed.”
“N-no, I’m fine.” She gulped, “I… I was just…”
“Going to turn that into a knight’s helmet?” He smiled lightly, “I won’t make fun of you if you mess up.”
Relief eased through her as it seemed he hadn’t yet made the connection. Maybe he didn’t recognize exactly what she was supposed to be or the significance of his being a knight? Or maybe, she reasoned, it didn’t really matter all that much to him. All the same, she expertly transfigured the metal tray into a replica knight’s helmet. 
“Brilliant, as always.” He nudged her and she willed her hands not to shake as she carefully lifted the helmet up and placed it over perfectly quaffed hair. She took the moment of his obscured vision to briefly appreciate how much he’d grown over the summer.
She gently lifted the flap, revealing bright blue-gray eyes. He saluted her playfully, which she returned with a smile that felt like it might break her face.
She cleared her throat, “Well, sir knight, I do believe you owe me.” 
“I do see candied apples over there.” He nodded and accidentally knocked the flap down, which both moved at the same time to fix, bumping hands for a moment before she dropped hers and let him take care of it. She did due diligence not to focus on the way they both avoided each other’s gaze afterwards. “Uh, yes, better get to that.”
***
“Is tonight the night?” Tyranus asked his master as they were shrouded in black. It was perilous enough to meet under such conditions, but seeing as plans were finally moving forwards, it seemed worth seeing that nothing went askew.
At last, they would be seen and the foolish administration would understand why casting their fears to the shadows only provided them succor. 
“Patience, my apprentice.” His master said, glowing yellow eyes illuminated behind his hood, “Do you not remember what became of the last apprentice that rushed into things?”
Tyranus did, but he did not have to fear such a fate. He was meticulous, like his master, and cared more for the outcome of their righteous victory than sinking his teeth into the festering pain they would inflict along the way.
“Do not compare me to him.” He spat, “I am not a bloodthirsty mongrel.”
“Perhaps not,” Sidious’ calm and frozen voice tutted, “Tonight, we make our sacrifice.”
“She shall rise at his descent.”
“She shall rise.” His pale lips curled into a crooked grin. “Tonight.”
***
The secret entry to one of the underground tunnels was located in the restricted section of the library, which meant that since Anakin was unable to magically become invisible, he would have to be stealthy in avoiding the various ghosts and poltergeists that typically clung nearby. Worst of all, more professors seemed to crowd around the library that evening than ever. He’d nearly ran square into Professor Dooku, who despite his usual sternness and tendency to hand detention out to anyone who ran the halls, didn’t spare him a second to even apologize before skirting around him and continuing on his way.
“That was lucky.” He muttered to himself. 
It was possible that the rightness of his plan was not merely his sweet tooth’s desire to sink itself into that delectable candy that was at the end of the tunnel, but because it was truly meant to be. The moon was full, which according to legend, tended to make all sorts of strange occurrences take place.
He stopped in front of a bookshelf that was furthest away from the reception desk. Its shelves were lined with a varying degree of books that were not supposed to meet the eyes of students. 
“Why even have books you can’t read?” Anakin wondered. “That’s like having words you can’t say. Stupid.”
Did that mean he would ever dare to curse in front of his mother? Absolutely not. 
However, he never cared much for reading for fun. When he explained to Viz that part of his plan required delving into the restricted section, the boy had instantly lit up, stating that the knowledge that was on those shelves was only known to few wizards. To Anakin, that just seemed foolish.
Regardless, he’d watched enough TV to understand the probability of one of the books being the physical switch to the tunnel. With Viz taking guard and walkie talkies in their pockets, there was very little that could make this plan go awry. Plus, according to the map, there were no ghosts on the floor at all. 
“I told you this was going to work, Viz.” Anakin said into the radio.
Vizsla had looked at him like he had four heads when he removed the walkies from his pouch earlier that evening, but Anakin knew he’d been correct in bringing them, especially since he had absolutely no idea on how wizards communicated locally. It was funny, though, because Vizsla was muggle-born and would likely know what a walkie talkie was. 
Anakin dismissed the thought. That kid practically lived under a rock anyway. With any help from him, he’d slowly pull him from his shell. Maybe from now on, if this all went according to plan, he would have a third to his duo with Rex. That was certainly more friends than he was used to having in school.
He’d assumed too early, unfortunately, because as Anakin hastily removed and replaced every single book at the entryway shelf, he found absolutely no reaction. What kind of mysterious hallway was this? He did notice that there was a book missing at the bottom of the shelf, towards the end of the alphabet.
“Bollocks.” He cursed, “Viz, anything?”
Silence.
Except for the distinct sound of heels clicking on stone flooring.
“Viz?” He asked again, but noticed for the first time that his walkie wasn’t lighting up in the slightest when he pressed the red button on the side. “Dang, I swore I charged these things.”
He tossed it to the side haphazardly as he quickly pulled out the map and noticed that Professor Palpatine was coming his way. He doubted when the Professor took pity on him and gave him the map, he meant for it to be used for such frivolous purposes. Palpatine was kind and sympathetic, but he wasn’t a pushover. 
He looked both ways hastily, trying to mentally scribe out his best chance of escape. When nothing seemed to pop out of thin air, he stamped his foot in frustration, ready to accept whatever unfortunate consequences would come his way.
They never came, of course, because whatever he’d stomped had removed the floor from beneath him and sent him downwards into a spiral of total darkness.
Anakin had a bad feeling about this.
***
Obi-Wan had a bad feeling about this. He wasn’t much for parties in the first place, always having felt that there was this required level of artificial conversation that diluted any real possible fun that could occur. However, it had been difficult to argue with his friends, who always had his best interest in mind, and then Qui-Gon, who was wise beyond his years despite what anyone else thought.
The party had started fine enough for him. Satine saddled him with a makeshift knight’s helmet that must have looked positively ridiculous on him, because she could barely stand to look him in the eye for too long. It was just as good that the flap kept sliding down and slamming shut over his face, because looking at her was a lot as well. A good “a lot”, but overwhelming all the same in this atmosphere.
She’d been pleased that he performed a spell to eradicate the stain on her stomach, which he hardly noticed until she’d pointed it out. Ventress’s doing, unsurprisingly, but karma was sometimes a more effective tool than magic, because the witch in question managed to slip on a wet leaf and slide into a muddy puddle. Satine was above laughing at her as many others had, but judging by the way her back straightened, she was not upset by the turn of events.
“Remind me again what you are, exactly?” He asked as they sat on a log and watched Hondo attempt break-dancing in an effort to best Sy Snootles’ moveset. 
“Oh!” She finished off a piece of toffee and used her other hand to place a lock of hair behind her ear. It was down and flowing today, trailing to the middle of her back in magnificent golden waves. “Have you ever read the Fountain of Fair Fortune?”
She seemed anxious and he was unsure why, but she fiddled with her hands in her lap while maintaining her gaze towards the dancing partygoers. Stass and Aayla had joined in on the fun and chanted loudly to some popular song that neither he or Satine seemed to catch onto.
Still, the title of the book sounded familiar enough. “Remind me what it’s about?”
“Okay.” She shifted in her seat to face him, “There’s this fountain of-”
“-Fair fortune?” He smirked.
She chuckled and swatted his arm, “Yes, do you want to tell it?”
“Seeing as I don’t know it, no.” He said.
“Very well then,” She continued, “And it's only accessible once a year for one person to bathe in to achieve eternal luck. Three witches meet and decide to work together to find the fountain. There’s Asha, whose mysterious illness cannot be cured by any healer, Altheda, who was robbed and is stuck in poverty, and Amata, who had her heart broken and wished to have it mended.”
“And that’s you.” He clarified after she’d gestured to herself on the last name.
“Stass and Aayla’s idea.” She cast a dirty look towards them before proceeding, “Anyway, they journey off and run into a muggle knight-”
“-Oh!” Obi-Wan patted his leg excitedly at the revelation, “I knew I’d heard of this one. The knight gets roped into the journey, correct?”
“Yes!” She smiled.
He laughed, “I suppose I understand why you were a little hesitant to dress me up as the knight then.”
She froze, eyes bulged, “You do?”
“Yeah?” Obi-Wan frowned, “Not sure how I’d feel giving you a character that’s been impaled.”
She narrowed her eyes, “That’s not what- What are you on about?”
“The end of the story?” He didn’t understand her sudden disposition, because that had been it, right? It was similar to the Grimm fairy tales in how they’d reached less than ideal endings, but those had been his parents’ preferred versions, stating that the real world was a scarier place than what was made up in stories.
“I haven’t heard that story in a long time.” He conceded, “But I remember it scared me a bit as a young child. I’m surprised you like it so.”
“I don’t think you heard it correctly.” She said, “Because the knight doesn’t die.”
“Yes he does.”
“No,” She said pointedly, “He doesn’t.”
He shook his head, annoyed. “I distinctly remember as a child, my mother read me-”
Satine stood to her feet, ears red and eyes blazing in a way that had nothing to do with the fire in the background. “-Well, she read you the wrong version!”
He opened his mouth to retaliate that point, but was interrupted by the stark sound of someone’s jaw being cracked against a balled fist. In a flash, a group had surrounded the brawling figures and began cheering as though this was a free sporting event. Instantly, Obi-Wan and Satine forgot their quarrel and shoved through the crowd of onlookers to see their friend, Cody, rolling around the ground with Pong Krell.
***
The way down the abyss would have been like a slide had it not felt like Anakin was being spanked the entire way down. It was difficult to gage how far he’d fallen since the hole at which he fell through was now closed above him, leaving him completely engulfed in complete black. The way his body hit the ground made it feel like it wasn’t as high as he’d originally anticipated. He’d fallen off his fair share of skate ramps to know what that distance vaguely felt like.
He groaned and crawled to his feet. How the heck was he supposed to see the map in all this darkness?
“Oh crap, that’s right. Lumos.” He whispered and sure enough, a little blip of light illuminated the minimal space around him as a flashlight might. 
He waved his wand around, taking stock of his surroundings. Even with the glowing wand, he was unable to make out where the ceiling started or how deep this trench of darkness stretched. He would be significantly more afraid if he didn’t logically understand that these were built on purpose ages ago to transport goods during the war (Palpatine hadn’t specified too much, but Anakin had also been too eager to stick around for long). 
Hogwarts was a happy place. Or at least, he told himself that as he considered the emblematic symbols of serpents engraved into the walls. He shined his light on one in particular, which showcased a beast larger than all of the rest. Tiny stick figures bowed down to it except for one, who rode the beast as though it were his trusty steed. When Anakin reached out to brush away dust and dirt to get a better look, the drawings began to move. 
“I love magic.” He smiled.
The beast climbed to the highest point of the tower and unleashed a puff of what Anakin imagined was fire, but could have been anything of damaging substance. His imagination could only stretch so far and as it stood, magic always seemed to supersede expectations.
The beast didn’t turn and kill the little stick people that worshipped it, but the one who rode on its back. 
“Weird.” He commented as the sequence seemed to start over, startling himself by his own echo.
He went to dig the map out of his sweatshirt pocket, but only found the mask that completed his outfit. Nearly dropping his wand in the process and driven by panic, he smacked his jeans pockets in hopes of misplacing it there, but with no success. Slowly, he looked up at where he’d come from, realizing that this might have been a bigger problem than he thought.
“This candy better be worth it,” He grumbled, as he extended his wand behind and ahead of him, trying to debate which way to go.
This would have been a prime moment to have one of those photographic memories that Obi-Wan had. The older boy always played it off and still insisted on burying his nose in a book until (and oftentimes after) his exams. If Anakin had that sort of advantage, his procrastination habits would only worsen. 
If Obi-Wan were here, he’d lecture Anakin that the main objective was no longer (and shouldn’t have ever been) retrieving sweets, but survival. To be fair, he wouldn’t have been here at all had Obi-Wan been given anything to say about it, but he refused to get too caught up in the details.
“This is what I get for planning and reading in advance. Nothing!” he sighed and then paused, “I really need to stop talking to myself.”
It sounded like the dripping sound was coming from somewhere behind him, so Anakin decided going towards water might be the better choice. He wasn’t sure why, but anytime anyone had been lost in movies, they always followed a river or went towards a general body of water. 
Dust particles floated around him and drifted through open space, but were interrupted in their path by the bulb at the end of his wand. He cast his light every which way and tried to avoid the thought of cobwebs or being stuck down here for all of eternity. After all, he’d left the map behind upstairs. Surely, someone would piece together where he’d gone.
The bones he tripped over said otherwise. 
Moisture gathered along the sides of the path and Anakin had to alternate between keeping his wand pointed forward and down at the ground to ensure he didn’t run into a wall.
“Or anything else.”
Occasionally, there were other crudely drawn pictures on the wall, but Anakin kept his stride and ignored them, noting only that it seemed like they were following him as he walked. His steps echoed throughout the tunnel, completely in tandem with the dripping sound in the distance, which seemed to grow all the more prevalent the faster he walked.
“I’m not afraid.” He said and steeled his courage to continue onward.
As the light from his wand reflected off of a cracked human skull, he swallowed and repeated the same mantra. He was placed in Gryffindor house for a reason and would sooner die than be labeled as weak or cowardly.
That didn’t stop him from hurrying even faster in his direction, drifting through and around the winding labyrinth in hopes of running smack into a door that led anywhere at this point. He would even accept an entryway into Headmaster Yoda’s office. Detention was looking pretty good in comparison to the wet stone-lined walls. 
Anakin froze in his tracks as the droplets, which had previously been falling with impressive speed and sound, abruptly stopped.
He waved his wand around and tried to keep his movements silent. Anything that lived this far below the surface of light and warmth likely didn’t thrive on eyesight alone. When the time spent still seemed to blend together and his arm ached from keeping his wand out, he released a heavy breath.
He needed to keep his anxieties at bay.
That was difficult to do when a hot gust of foul air blasted him forward to his hands and knees. When he slowly turned his head, he was meant with two golden eyes and the source of the dripping sound. Only, as Anakin raised his wand and revealed the full extent of the metal gate, it wasn’t water, but blood.
***
“How old are you, Mr. Fett?” Mace Windu’s voice was one you did not question or interrupt, especially when he was angry or upset. Unfortunately for most students, Professor Windu was usually some degree of displeased. However, as he paced back forth across his large office, casting his disapproving glare on Cody, who sat front and centered with his head tilted down, he seemed particularly peeved.
“I’m 15, sir.” He kept his tone even.
“And correct me if I’m wrong, but you aren’t a fool, right?”
Satine suspected it had to do with the fact that he was in what she assumed to be pajamas. She and Obi-Wan, being the prefects that broke up the scuffle, stood behind Cody, while Pong Krell was somewhere in the hospital wing getting a bloody lip and snout tended to by the healers. While she didn’t approve of Cody’s methods, she knew he likely had his reasons for lashing out. Rex, who was the only one who could get him to stop swinging at Krell, was too upset to drag any information from.
“I asked you a question.” Windu said after a long period of stunted silence.
Satine exchanged a concerned look with Obi-Wan, who was just as stiff and uncomfortable to be in the room as she was. Neither wanted to see their friend get in trouble, even if he did end the bonfire in record-breaking time. 
“No, sir.” Cody gritted while keeping his eyes on his shoes.
“I was just checking, because when I got the notice that the captain of Gryffindor’s Quidditch team was throttling a prefect in the midst of an upperclassmen event, I thought: well, that sounds like the behavior of a childish savage. And I never took you for that. But maybe, I was wrong.”
Cody chose not to respond, which was the wisest case scenario given the circumstances. 
“You’re not a child anymore, Mr. Fett, which means it is no longer suitable for you to handle your issues like one. When I granted you position as captain of the team, I figured that regardless of your youth, you might grow to the occasion and recognize that you are in a position of responsibility. If my prefects and captains all behave like you did tonight, what will become of the following generations?”
Again, Cody didn’t answer, but that wasn’t acceptable for Professor Windu, who smacked a hand on his desk, letting each student start at the reverberation.
“We would have chaos!” He said quietly. “We’ve been in school for no more than two months and I fear I made the wrong decision.”
“What?” Cody’s head shot up, vigor returned to his voice.
“Ah, he speaks.” He said sardonically.
“Professor?” Obi-Wan suddenly spoke up, “I believe Krell instigated the altercation, sir.”
“Krell has been nothing more than an exemplary student, Mr. Kenobi.” Windu turned his attention to him and Satine quietly hoped she would not lose two friends to his fiery gaze in one evening. “And I have several eye witness accounts saying he never took a single swing… Not even in retaliation.”
“He’s been bullying my brother!” Cody protested, “All to get back at me for being promoted as captain.”
“From what I understand, Mr. Krell has been implementing certain measures of discipline regarding your brother’s less than exemplary record- some simple cleaning and chores here and there. He’s been tardy and on more than one occasion caught causing mischief alongside Skywalker.”
At that, Windu cast a pointed look towards Obi-Wan, who stiffened beside Satine.
“That’s not what’s happening.” Cody said, “He’s hardly had any time to himself lately. He looks exhausted! You can’t see it, because Krell covers his tracks.”
“If by “covers his tracks”, you mean he has several esteemed recommendations from all of his professors, several records of voluntary community service, a near-perfect GPA, and has never stepped a toe out of line, I’d say yes, he does. And he does it well.”
At that, Windu looked to Obi-Wan and Satine for any source of confirmation. Satine cleared her throat.
“With all due respect, Professor, Ben and myself are also both historically “in line” and we know Cody. We can vouch that he would never act without reason to do so.”
He narrowed his eyes at her in consideration, “Yes, I know that, Ms. Kryze, but you of all people likely agree that Mr. Fett’s actions were brash and impetuous. That cannot go overlooked.”
“Please don’t remove him from the team, sir.” Obi-Wan said, “I’ve seen Krell and Rex and I do believe it deserves a closer look. Perhaps if you switched them-”
“-Rex, himself, has not made a formal complaint.” Windu sighed, “And the rules dictate that he would not only need to do so, but I would need more than hearsay from a family member that took to swinging before considering how that might tarnish his reputation.”
Off both Obi-Wan and Satine’s disappointed looks, he sighed, “But, it would be foolish not to consider all angles. The team rallies behind Cody and so do his brothers. Do not mistake this as a free pass. Should you pull another stunt like this, you will be stripped of your status as captain. Do you hear me, Fett?”
Cody looked up, anger blazing in his eyes. “I hear you, sir. What of Krell?”
“If what you three claim is true, I will intervene. I wish you came to me as opposed to fighting first. In the meantime, 50 points will be deducted from Gryffindor and you will require peer mediation classes, Mr. Fett. It’s best if we get that anger in check before you truly hurt someone.”
Cody opened his mouth to respond, but Satine nudged him. While she didn’t believe it to be fair, she knew that his mouth could only get him into further trouble.
“Thank you, sir.” He said instead and stood to his feet.
“Satine, Obi-Wan, please see him back to the Gryffindor common room. I’ve got to send an owl to the Krell household. I doubt we will be expecting a pleasant response.”
They nodded and escorted Cody back to the painting of the fat lady in silence. Obi-Wan tried to start an amicable conversation to lighten the mood with little results. It wasn’t fair and they all knew it. While Satine, herself, had never known Pong Krell to be cruel, she’d never really come into contact with him as much as Cody did. She’d always believed their rivalry was more in Cody’s head than in reality, but after tonight, it was obvious that it went deeper than it seemed.
“I won’t just take this lying down.” Cody said, “Windu isn’t going to do anything.”
“We’ll figure something out, mate.” Obi-Wan said gently and watched as Cody muttered the password and stepped inside the corridor. They watched it close behind him, understanding that this wouldn’t be the last of it. The Fett’s were not known for the ability to release grudges, especially when it came to one of their own.
She and Obi-Wan didn’t talk much as they walked back to the Ravenclaw common room. It was likely they had different opinions on the matter. She was annoyed that Cody simply acted before thinking about the consequences. If they took the time to build a case against Krell instead of socking him in the jaw, they might have met more success. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, probably understood Cody’s desire to act a little more thoroughly. 
“I just hope he doesn’t do anything stupid.” She said finally as he held the door open for her to enter inside.
“Me neither.” He agreed.
Well, at least they had something they agreed on.
Before ascending the staircase to go up to the two juxtapositioned bookcases that covered the respective dorms, she turned to bid him goodnight.
“Well, I’m sure we’ll be hearing more of this tomorrow.” She said.
“So much for Halloween.” He said.
“Yeah.” She laughed lightly, “Well there’s always next year. We ought to both dress as knights next time if there’s to be another joust.”
He nodded and she started to turn, feeling exhaustion from the evening that was cut short weighing on her a little too heavily at this point. However, his gentle voice stopped her.
“Satine?” He asked.
“Yes?” She turned back to him, briefly taking in with mild intrigue how his hair wasn’t even slightly out of place after wearing a helmet all evening. It must have been charmed.
“How did the story actually end?”
It took her a moment to understand what he was referring to, since a lot had transpired since their earlier argument.
“Oh, that.” She ran a hand through her hair, loosening the top part from its braid. “We- they fall in love.”
“The muggle knight and the witch?” He asked.
“Yeah.” She said lightly, not quite knowing what to expect from his reaction.
He considered that for a moment and then smiled, “You’re right, that’s much better.”
And he turned to open the bookcase and walked up a separate set of steps, leaving Satine breathless and staring where he’d previously been. It wasn’t until the bookcase shut behind him that she felt safe to release the breath that had been caught in her throat.
“It is.” She hummed.
***
Anakin was supposed to be in bed right now.
However, he was far from tired as he gazed into bright golden eyes that broke through the shadowed obscurity beyond the gate, which was so much more ominous than the blackest night. The eyes simultaneously intrigued and frightened him, but all the same, he felt the intense gravitational pull forwards. His mind fought this urge, reminding himself of the bloody remains of an unlucky figure that lay to the side. 
Soft puffs of hot air rustled through his hair, warm like a sea breeze, but metallic in stench as they continued their staredown. Why was it kept down here? And for how long? Did the professors and headmaster know about this? He was beginning to understand his mother’s hesitance in Hogwarts, but Anakin really didn’t have time to consider any of those thoughts too decisively, because he was overwhelmed by fascination rather than fear. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he swore this creature was sad and wanting for freedom. Maybe, Anakin saw a bit too much of himself in it.
“Um, hi?” He tried meekly.
A soft but curious growl seemed to vibrate from the creature and through the floor. When he made no signs of aggression, he carefully reached forward and watched with severity for any harsh movement. His fingers grazed the gate to nothing. Instead, it sounded almost like the beast purred at Anakin’s curiosity. The real question was whether this was part of a trap or sheer delight over cognizant interaction.
He waved his wand around, using the light to gage what its living conditions were like and while it appeared to Anakin that the interior was quite large, his small bulb of lumination could not make out the actual shape and length of the creature itself, just that its front was rounded like a giant boulder and that it had a jagged maroon burn mark down its orange skin. He couldn’t see any teeth, but the gate had deep and inconsistent indents scattered around as well as slash lines. 
Clearly, it had tried to escape.  
“It must get lonely down here.” Anakin whispered.
The beast didn’t answer, but closed its eyes when Anakin’s hand reached the scaly surface of what he could only assume was a snout and heavily exhaled. It felt as though it was covered in hard plates and rocks that reminded him of what he’d always imagined dinosaurs to feel like. Between the ridges, he could detect a squishy and smooth skin and even with the light brush of his fingertips, it still flinched. Still, he didn’t hesitate to make small and comforting strokes as his mother would when he was plagued by nightmares. Being stuck in this labyrinth for a couple hours was depressing enough, let alone locked away for an extended period of time.
The gate was far too weak to not be enchanted somehow, and whenever Anakin brushed against it, he realized it was much sturdier than it appeared. And yet, it did not appear to affect human beings. By the way the creature remained a good meter behind the opening and the scabbed over burns and cuts across its skin, it wasn’t difficult to deduce that the gate was somehow cursed to maintain this specific creature. 
And yet, Anakin felt something in his soul, a kinship, that seemed to haunt him and tempt him all in the same breath. He averted his gaze from the golden eyes, because in them, he could see the destruction of the past and future. Who’s past and future, he did not know. All he knew was that there was only pain and suffering here and he desperately wanted an escape. 
He started at the faded sound of the clock that habitually rang every evening at midnight and every day at noon. He’d evidently gotten used to sleeping through it if he didn’t have astronomy, but while significantly muffled, Anakin was surprised to be able to hear it clearly from down this way.
When the beast stirred beneath his touch, Anakin turned his gaze and noticed a domineering shadow cast off the corner wall in the opposite direction. Steps that carried weight echoed across the stone floor at a brisk pace, crisp oxford’s clicking with purpose. For a brief second, Anakin felt relieved he’d been found. However, as he turned his head back to the suddenly recoiled beast, he realized with horror that any individual that kept a mysterious monster down in the hidden tunnels of Hogwarts, was likely not a friend to him.
So, as far as he could see, he had a choice and he’d made it considerably quickly. This was good, because by the time he managed to squeeze himself through the small cracked opening in the grate, the figure turned the corner and stood where he’d just been.
He gripped his wand so tight that it felt as though it might become a part of him and desperately tried to slow down his heart that was clattering in his chest. He raised a finger to his lips in futile hopes of agreeing to silence with this creature. Clearly afraid from past experience, it huffed and backed away from the entry point. The hooded individual did not speak, but Anakin kept himself at a curious angle that only allowed him minimal access while also remaining hidden. 
Even in the darkness that engulfed the room, the figure’s cloaks were an obsidian that Anakin could not name and they shrouded his face completely. His wand was at the ready and a brief gleam of cobalt lightning struck the beast and for the first real time, Anakin saw the full extent of it from his spot curled in a ball in the corner. It turned out, there was much more to it than the head that Anakin had only caught a glimpse of. It was the most massive thing Anakin had ever seen- looking more like a mega-maxed lizard at the intimidating size of around 90 meters. It was lean for its length, but covered completely in the orange and yellow plates that he had previously felt. Its arms and legs had gigantic talons on the ends of its digits and the same was said for the end of the tip of its tail, which could wrap around the entirety of the brute and then have some leftover. 
He winced at the persistent waves of shocks that enraged it, bringing its eyes to a mean red glow as its body spasmed. As its shrill shriek rattled the entire structure, causing specks of dust to crumble down from the ceiling, all Anakin could notice was the row of knives that layered its mouth in several sets, suitable to tear through anything.
Though they’d talked about it in school, it was the first time Anakin had ever seen magic used to destroy rather than create and he would never forget the tears it brought to his eyes at the power and tragedy of it all.  
Still, there wasn’t much he could do against actual lightning. He doubted that wingardium leviosa or alohomora would be of much assistance in this instance, and that was about as deep as his useful magic went at the moment. Transfiguration would take a great deal of effort that he couldn’t spare due to the amount of focus it was taking not to let his teeth chatter.
He tried to use the reflected light from the torturous magic spell to check out his surroundings, noting that to his right across the surprisingly spacious cavern (after all, it could fit this thing), there was another gate that led somewhere, anywhere, that was not where Anakin currently was trapped. 
He rushed across the clearing, trying very hard to banish the thoughts of the beast and its woeful and angry cries with tears of his own streaming down his cheeks. He bit his lip so hard that he could taste blood and when he slid down a small slope and squeezed under the miniscule space between the second gate and the ground, he landed hard on smooth stone flooring. There was a lever to his right hand side that was ever tempting to yank and he rested his hand there for just a moment, pondering this option. He could see above just how deep this cavern was thanks to sparsely located enchanted candles that illuminated each corner of this… temple. 
He swore the stones that towered up to the top of the ceiling had faces carved in compliance to their shadows that grimaced down at him with further reminder that he did not belong here. To his left, a long pathway that led to a tunnel far better lit than the one Anakin had traveled wound into obscurity and alongside it was an array of statues of warriors immortalized in suffering. The detail on them was shockingly accurate and Anakin wondered for a brief moment just how they’d captured such likeness.
“YOU THERE!” A hissing voice crept in his ear and cold shock permeated through him enough to freeze him in place.
Anakin didn’t dare breathe, let alone speak. His mind was surely playing tricks on him. When silence was all that persisted, he finally dared to turn around and noticed that the hooded figure was no more.
His breath grew ragged, but his eyes, however, could not stop taking the space in under sharper clarity, as though that would find him a way out. There was a stone table with a sword delved through it, dried blood caked into the surface and above it, one clear word: sacrifice.
A firm hand clasped his shoulder, the feeling of a cold ring bearing into his collarbone and it took everything in his power not to scream.
“Right on time.” A thick voice whispered. “Last words?”
Rage coiled over Anakin and he turned in the man’s grasp, still unable to see his face through the bleakness of the cloaks.
“So, what? You’re just going to kill some little kid? So tough.” He griped, “I’ve known guys like you my whole life: magic or not. And I’ll never be afraid of you.”
A sardonic laugh echoed off the walls, but the man still retained his quiet vibrato, “I’m not the one you should fear. It was foretold that you would be here.”
“By who?” Anakin just wanted to know who snitched. Viz? How would he have this sort of connection.
“My master.” And while he couldn’t see it, Anakin could sense a wicked grin breaking way on his captor’s face. 
“Well, sir, as much as I’d like to be your cultish human sacrifice, I think you’ve got bigger fish to fry right now.”
“Oh?”
A gust of hot breath propelled them forward, knocking Anakin out of the phantom’s cold grasp and onto his behind. It gave him the immaculate view of the figure in question getting knocked into the stone table. The man was temporarily subdued in stillness. When he thought the beast would finish the job, though, it whipped its head back towards Anakin and growled.
“Or,” Anakin winced, “Maybe I’ve got a bigger fish to fry.”
He leapt just at the moment the beast charged and landed on the top of its head. It pushed forward and up, crushing through the ceiling and only persisting upwards from there. Anakin did everything in his power to keep his hold on one of the spikes that protruded from its back. The beast roared and while Anakin could not understand its language, it sounded like vindication. Trouble was, as they broke through layer after layer of this secluded chamber, Anakin realized, with a strange concoction of relief and horror, that they would soon no longer be underground, but torpedoing straight through Hogwarts. 
***
Obi-Wan liked to think he took his position as prefect quite seriously. He was diligent in his patrols, prudent with reports, and reasonable with other students. He refused to be the kind that found trouble in everything, but if presented to him, would not hesitate to administer detention. He never cared much for what most of the other students thought of him anyway. He acquired that skill from his formative years at Hogwarts.
While his vigilance was visible to any that could be seen, it didn’t make being jostled awake by a raging scream any easier. He still leapt into immediate, even if a little bleary, action while he checked on all of the boys in his dormitory, alongside the other prefects, before advising them to remain calm and still in the event that there was somehow an intruder.
It was well known that Hogwarts was charmed to prevent such an occurrence, but such precautions should not be withheld simply because the likelihood of something was miniscule. 
The sixth year prefect, a rodian named Onaconda Farr, opted to stay back with the underclassmen in case anything went awry in the dorms, but if Hogwarts was sealed from all danger, the dorms were even doubled in those efforts, forbidding even those of the opposite gender to enter.
Obi-Wan and the seventh year prefect, Dantum Roohd, meandered through the bookcase to see their female prefect counterparts waiting for them with raised wands. Mon Mothma and Satine Kryze were ever formidable looking, even clad in pajamas. Satine, in particular, looked bright eyed and focused, despite the disarray of her hair, which fell half up and half down and off-centered, regardless of the original intent. 
“Any word from Professor Dooku?” Obi-Wan asked.
“Nothing as of now.” Mon Mothma replied grimly. “I wonder if the other houses have had such luck.”
“Would it be wise to investigate?” Dantum asked. “Do we think it’s a Halloween prank?”
He was answered not by either girl, but by a rumbling that nearly knocked each of them off their feet. To Obi-Wan, it felt reminiscent of an earthquake, only exclusive to Hogwarts, like it came from the belly of the school.
“I’d like to see a prank that could make the entire school shake.” Satine said. 
When the jostling returned, a deafening screech came with it and each tried to manage keeping their hands against their ears while also maintaining balance. A loud slam followed by the noise of crumbling infrastructure and each prefect looked at each other in shared alarm.
A moment of silence and stillness came before the window behind Satine was no longer depicting the glorious night sky, but a singular bloodshot eye.
“Oh that is not good.” He said.
Satine turned around in confusion and her eyes bulged in shock, “Oh, fu-”
“-We’ve got to find the professors.” Dantum said.
“Not without ensuring the safety of the underclassmen.” Mon Mothma argued, “Whatever that thing is, it’s scaled the tower!” 
“We’ll split up.” Obi-Wan offered loudly, trying to battle for dominance with the persistent shrieks from outside. His heart was hammering in his chest, “Satine and I will search for help and make sure there aren’t any stragglers while you two gather the students and take them to Slytherin’s common room.”
It was the only option that made sense. Slytherin’s common room was the most underground portion of Hogwarts and would suffer the least amount of damage from any beast that could take to the sky and physically climb across the entirety of Hogwarts without consequence.
“A sound enough plan given the circumstances.” Mon Mothma agreed, “Though sending two fifth years into the chaos seems-”
“-Like something we do not have time to debate.” Satine cut her off and grabbed Obi-Wan by the hand to pull him into a run outside the door of their common room. Under normal circumstances, he might have been taken back by the sudden contact, but considering a raging monster was trying to pry Hogwarts apart, he didn’t pay mind to the physical guidance. 
“We’ve got to find Dooku or Qui-Gon!” He yelled as they sprinted, nearly side by side down the stairwell of the tower, stumbling occasionally as the beast seemed to rock the tower back and forth as though it were designed to bobble. Absently, Obi-Wan wondered if it had been constructed for such a possibility. 
“That is the plan.” She returned sharply, just narrowly dodging a piece of debris that fell from the ceiling. “I thought Hogwarts was charmed to prevent physical attacks from magical or non magical creatures!”
“You know, this is new for me too.” He said.
After finally bursting through the thick doors that led to the tower, moaning ghosts fluttered by them but no active signs of life. 
“Okay, we should start by-” Satine stopped abruptly and looked at him in horror as if he’d just slapped her in the face.
“What?” He panicked, looking around him to ensure that he had somehow not transformed into an ugly yellow-eyed monster. “What’s wrong?”
“What on earth are you wearing?” She asked, voice high.
He blanched, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. It was safe to say it felt like he’d been knocked backwards into a pond of freezing water he was so off-guard. “What am I- These- Pajamas! What’s it to you?” He flared at the end of it.
Normally, he would never give Satine the opportunity to see him in sleepwear. He hardly accepted the notion that his classmates had to see him in vulnerable dress. However, he never thought them abnormal, since his parents wore a similar make. They were button-up in style, with a pocket square in the front that had the Kenobi crest pressed into it like a hard plate. The pattern, admittedly, was quite unusual and resembled a kaleidoscope of large boxes that housed several little boxes on the inside in a series of greens, blues, grays, browns, and oranges that often collided with one another. The collar had frills on it and the back even had a buttflap in case there was cause to rush in the middle of the night. He angled himself so Satine could not get a glimpse of that, of course.
“Those are not pajamas!” She shook her head, brow furrowed, “Those look like… Carny clothes!”
“They’re traditional!” He argued.
“They’re hideous.” 
“Satine!”
She reached out and touched them, “And they’re scratchy! How on earth do you sleep in those?”
He didn’t know what she meant by that. Though upon looking at her closer, she was dressed very differently in a grey t-shirt and navy sweatpants. 
Obi-Wan flinched, shaking off her hand while his face burned hot. “Can you please focus?”
She choked out a laugh, “I’ll try, but by God, I might be blind now after looking at you.”
“Meetra Surik!” Obi-Wan called the youngest-looking ghost that passed by, eager to get away from this line of conversation. She died an outcast from the rest of her peers and loved to lament over it.
“Kenobi!” She whirled, never a fan of Obi-Wan for his tendency to block her view of Cody, who she had a notorious crush on. Far be it from him to explain the difficulties that might arise in that pairing- the primary of which being that one was dead and one was alive. “Can’t you go bother someone else? I’m not trying to die twice in this horrid place.”
“That’s not physically possible, Meetra.” He sighed and tried to bring himself to a level of calmness he didn’t feel. “What in the blazes is going on?”
“Bloody hell if I know!” She roared, “I was on my nightly stroll through the herbology lab, debating on whether or not I should pluck a mandrake and stick it outside Professor Yaddle’s office, you know, because of the slander she spreads about me in her History of Magic class…”
Obi-Wan and Satine exchanged a confused glance, neither being able to note any reference of slander from Professor Yaddle, let alone in regards to any of her former students. However, as Obi-Wan thought of it, there was a brief unit on the deaths of Hogwarts students and Meetra might have been mentioned at some point because of this. 
“When a tentacle came straight through the screen and almost took my head clean off! I didn’t even know that was possible!” She gasped and squished her face into a scowl, “Must be a return of the Kraken.”
“Oh, shut it, you silly girl!” The thick brogue of Vima Sunrider cut her off on what would surely be a lengthy rant.
“Girl? I’m well over a thousand years old!”
“Yes, but you died a girl, which means your maturity is stunted. Now move it along and stop spreading slander to the children.” The older ghost said. 
Meetra stuck her tongue out at her, if not only just to prove Vima’s point. Before turning on her heels to continue floating in the direction she’d been heading towards. She paused before facing Obi-Wan again.
“Oh, Kenobi? Do tell that charming chaser friend of yours that I was asking for him.” She giggled.
“Ah yes, will do.” He coughed awkwardly and Satine raised an eyebrow at him in question. “Don’t ask.” He murmured. 
When Vima Sunrider did not stop and hurriedly went in the opposite direction, towards the library, Obi-Wan and Satine both had the presence of thought to follow her, having to jog to keep up with the pace she was keeping. Paintings fell off the walls at the continued agitation, which became so overwhelming, that Satine was knocked into him at one point. They slammed against the bookcase and onto the floor. A copy of “Quidditch Through the Ages” fell onto his head.
“Sorry,” She muttered, ears bright red as she immediately pulled herself off his lap. 
“S’okay.” He returned while forcing his eyes on the somber ghost that trailed straight through the lines of bookcases with effortless confidence that she knew where they were without so much as looking up. Obi-Wan knew too, because he’d quietly admired the section they were approaching during his entire career as a student of Hogwarts: the restricted section. His thirst for knowledge was overwhelming, but he always banished thoughts of sneaking in without much care.
He gave Satine an uncertain stare as they passed the barrier, but she only rolled her eyes at him.
“I think the teachers might forgive our indiscretion in light of more precedent events, Ben. Considering Godzilla is taking over the school.”
He frowned, “Who?”
“Nevermind.” She shook her head, and walked next to Vima Sunrider when they came to a halt. “Have you any idea going on, Lady Sunrider?”
A crack of lightning outside added to the horrors occurring and the whole building seemed to rattle in response. Specks of dust fluttered down and more ghosts seemed to round the corner in an effort to race to the dungeons. Behind them, Obi-Wan could hear the sounds of rapid footsteps and muffled voices of concern, meaning Mon Mothma and Dantum Roohd were performing their end of the deal.
The old ghost seemed to consider this, wisdom in her eyes as she gazed out beyond the windows of which she hadn’t crossed in centuries. Droplets of rain traced haphazardly down the glass panes and drizzled into obscurity. White light and thunderous shrieks raged outside of Hogwarts, which tried its best to fend off the attempted intruder. 
She ran a hand through long white hair and grimaced, “I thought they’d died out.”
“What’s that?” Obi-Wan asked.
“The impenetrable behemoth. The mystical demon. The wizard-killer.” She listed the names in a tone that almost sounded revering before whispering, “The Zillo Beast.”
“Zillo Beast?” Satine wrinkled her nose. “I’ve never read of a Zillo Beast?”
“Not everything that’s true is found in books, Ms. Kryze.” She said knowingly. “And the mystery that is the Zillo Beast, while unbelievable, is true. Wizards of the past saw to extinguishing them and those that did not… Had other purposes in mind.”
“But, the magical barriers-” Obi-Wan began.
“-Are useless against creatures that are alleged to be extinct.” She said. “The Zillo Beast was long gone before Hogwarts was even a blink in the founder’s eyes. Or so we believed that to be the case.”
“Then why do you know of it?” He asked, a bit flustered that he’d forgotten how Vima knew the founders of Hogwarts quite well and had eventually been a professor here, despite having never attended.  
“A village of my ancestors met their fiery deaths to this beast. They are indestructible, and bring havoc in their paths.” She said. “And they were only rumored to rise as the darkest omen.”
“How do we stop it?” Obi-Wan asked.
Vima’s gaze was full of years that matched a life of unparalleled knowledge- at least to the living- and her mouth was set in a frown. Then, she broke out into a laugh, as if realizing he was being serious and it was just the most tickling joke in the world.
“You don’t, boy. This is only confirming what we ghosts have known for quite some time.” She wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling, “The prophecy has started. The darkest of times are approaching. Everything will burn.”
“You mean, Hogwarts?” Satine asked warily.
“Hogwarts, the wizarding community, the world.” She said darkly, eyes caught on the rainfall once again as the beast raged in the distance, “And it’s only the beginning.”
“Well, maybe you’ve given up.” Satine said stiffly, hands clenched into tight fists, “But we haven’t. If you’re not going to help us, we’ll find another way.”
Obi-Wan always marveled at Satine’s conviction, even if she couldn’t possibly have a plan up her sleeve in such an unpredictable occurrence. She still seemed beyond sure of herself and her moral compass, steeled in the right direction each and every time. He often wondered what he did to deserve a friend like that.
However, when he glanced down to the bookcase in front of them, he frowned, “Why did you take us here, Lady Sunrider?”
She smiled, “I think you’ve already figured it out, sir Ravenclaw.” 
Satine followed his line of sight and noticed the empty space and knelt to reach eye level with the lower corner. “There should be a book there.”
It was true. Every book in the section had been filed in its proper space except one, which left a gaping empty slot conveniently towards the end of the shelf.
“Alphabetically, it easily could have been about Zillo Beasts.” He reported after scanning his eyes across the surrounding titles. 
“Which means that someone within the castle was investigating them prior to this incident.” Satine finished.
They stared at each other in wide-eyed concern. If they were correct, it proposed the insinuation that someone at Hogwarts brought this Zillo Beast to the school. 
“Oh, we really need to find a professor.” Obi-Wan said. And while it went unsaid, who he actually meant was Qui-Gon, because he knew he could trust the man with his life, which was exactly what this occasion required. Anyone else, it seemed, could have been a suspect of all this.
***
“Okay, I think you can stop now!” Anakin yelled as the beast veered them all over the place, occasionally taking to the night sky and offering what otherwise, would have been a lovely view of Hogwarts and the black lake. Trouble was, this beast was presently rocking against Ravenclaw tower and shaking it senselessly.
“I hope Obi-Wan’s okay.” He muttered and tried to further his grip on the creature to keep himself from falling off.
This was proving increasingly difficult as his mode of transportation only became increasingly sporadic. The beast didn’t have wings, thankfully, but was enormous in stature and climbed with ease up the towers, digging its talons into the stone as though it was made of clay. The third arm, which Anakin hadn’t taken notice of when they were in captivity, kept swinging around, trying to get a grasp on him. 
Its red eyes were trained forward in determination and used his tail to knock the roof clean off the astronomy tower.
“Seriously, I think you made your point!” He said and clenched tighter. He used whatever nails weren’t gnawed off from bad habit, and stuck them as deep as they could go into the squishy skin beneath the hard plates. This earned him a wild jerk up and down, slamming Anakin’s body hard and almost losing his footing on the spikes. 
“Sorry, sorry! Do what you want!” He added hastily.
It took a large leap that felt a little bit like flying and landed hard against the roof that housed the Great Hall and slithered across like it was no big deal, leaving damage in its wake. Anakin just did his best to focus on not throwing up and couldn’t help the high-pitched scream he released when the beast decided it was a good idea to free-fall down to the courtyard.
It bashed its head through the doorway, officially breaking way to the interior of Hogwarts.
***
Cody, despite having not elected to becoming a prefect, assembled the boy’s Gryffindor dorm in record-breaking time. It helped that three of its occupants were his little brothers, who were used to Cody’s drill-sergeant act in the summer when he woke them up for Quidditch games before sunrise. 
“Cody!” Rex called, voice quivering with panic. “Anakin’s not here!”
“What do you mean he’s not here?” He rushed over to Skywalker’s bunk and noted that the sheets were still pressed from whatever spell had done it the morning before and the bed was cool. Sure enough, his backpack was also missing from its usual residence beside his bed.
“Has anyone seen Skywalker?” He asked loudly to the rest of the boys, who all turned and looked at one another before shaking their heads in confusion. How far could one little first year boy get? Considering this was Anakin Skywalker, who had already built a bit of a reputation for himself as mischievous, very far.
“Krell, we’re down a man.” He walked over to the prefect, who was in the middle of his own role call.
“I haven’t gotten that far on my list yet, Fett. If you don’t mind-” He continued.
Cody grabbed him by the shoulders, consequences be damned, and pressed him against the bar of the bunk behind him, “Some ravenous beast is taking over the school and you don’t even care that a kid’s gone missing?”
Regardless of his negative feelings towards Krell, he was willing to put them aside in a moment of strife. Krell, upon noticing that Cody remotely cared about the kid missing, seemed to not hold that same level of professionalism or humanity. He should have known better than to assume anything more from the slimy weasel.
“Watch it, Fett.” He said around the ghost of a smile, “Wouldn’t want to make any hasty movements there.”
“And you call yourself a Gryffindor.” He said and shoved him away.
“I never said I didn’t care, but there’s a protocol to be followed here. I’m not going to go running off and get myself killed when statistically, I’d be more useful here and rest assured, I will fight to the death if need be. Better to sacrifice one than to lose all.”
“Well, you better put two down on your missing list, because I’m going after him.” Cody said and when Rex began to follow, he pointed a finger at his little brother. “Don’t you even think about it.”
“But-” He looked back at him, panic-stricken, but either Fives or Echo placed firm hands on his shoulders both to comfort and keep him in place.
***
Obi-Wan and Satine rounded the halls, being careful to jump over broken glass and splintered wood. Above them, the night sky was showcased due to the shattered pieces of the ceiling. The rain seemed to be slowing down, which was a relief, because a flood was the last thing the school needed at the moment. 
They were both relieved to find they hadn’t stumbled across any students that were lost or left behind, but were more concerned to note that the professors seemed to be completely missing in action.
“Maybe, they’re already tending to the problem?” Satine suggested as she kept up her stride beside him. A deafening blast beside them caused him to pull her close by the hand so they were burrowed in a tight corner. What looked to be a tail with large spikes on the end had broken through the wall across from them. Satine had just been standing there a few seconds before and that thought more than anything startled him.
They stayed still and silent and watched, trying not to indicate that there was possible food for the beast to enjoy. Their breaths intermingled as they kept their eyes burned to the vacant spot. Time seemed to drag impossibly long and it felt like this would never pass. Finally, the tail slipped away and the beast continued its rampage elsewhere in the building. While this wasn’t necessarily a comforting thought, it did allow the hammering in Obi-Wan’s ears to slow down a little bit.
“That was close.” Satine finally said around a heavy breath. They remained paralyzed where they were for good measure until enough time seemed to pass. 
“We’ve got to find that book. Maybe there’s a way on how to defeat it inside.” He said.
What was crystal clear was that someone didn’t want them to have that level of accessibility on hand. 
“I agree.” She nodded and then, remembering herself, slowly looked down at their joined hands, “Um-”
“Oh, terribly sorry!” He quickly retracted and cleared his throat, “Shall we continue?”
She took the lead and raced ahead. From then going forward, they remained closer to the interior wall as they ran risk of another outside blow coming inwards. The closest office would have been, in theory, Professor Windu’s, so they tried there first. He was easily the best at aggressive spells, even if this was likely more of Professor Dooku’s expertise.
“His door is locked.” Satine reported.
“And something tells me a simple unlocking spell isn’t going to do the trick.” He said around an exasperated sigh. She still tried every spell she could think of to no quantifying results.  Beside him, was a window and he tried his best to see through the rain to get any sort of glimpse at the Zillo Beast. Instead, all he could see was rain. 
“Come on, let’s try Dooku’s office.” She said and they turned on their heels to run but once they gained any real momentum, Obi-Wan found himself smacking into a solid object when circling another corner.
Instinctively, he stuck his wand out, but met a set of focused and familiar eyes.
“Cody?” He asked.
“What in the heavens are you doing?” Satine asked, clutching her chest.
“And why are you in your underwear?” Obi-Wan asked and used his wand to point to the fact that Cody was running around the castle in nothing more than a pair of red plaid boxers and a white sleeveless shirt. The boy wasn’t even wearing socks and didn’t look as though he was the least bothered by it.
“I don’t think you’ve got much room to talk when it comes to current wardrobe, mate.” Cody snickered.
“He’s got you there.” Satine added.
He clambered to his feet and whirled around to face her, face glowing once again, “He’s in his underwear! Are you kidding me?”
“You would think.” She said and nodded at Cody, who was still stifling his own laughter, “But Cody doesn’t get embarrassed and you still look like you are the reigning champion of an ugly pajama contest.”
“I guess it’s better than that nightgown you wore first year when you slept over my house that one-” Cody started, but Obi-Wan punched him in the arm, which only seemed to instigate his half-naked friend’s laughter.
“You promised never to speak of that again!” He complained. 
“You wore a nightgown?” She delved into laughter yet again.
“Oh, it had a buttflap just like this one.” Cody said as he turned around Obi-Wan, who placed his rear against the wall instantly. “And a matching cap!”
The two continued their little fit, which could have gone on for much longer than appropriate and in spite of the fact that Obi-Wan was presently contemplating setting himself on fire, he knew they needed to get to safety. 
“Can we- Can we please get on track? Bloodthirsty Zillo Beast, remember?”
  “Mhmm,” She giggled into her hand before clearing her throat, “Yes, uh- what are you doing out here, Cody?”
As soon as Cody was redirected again, his expression darkened. “You’d think my prefect would be out here on the front lines, but I think the sorting hat might have been in need of some patchwork when Krell was assigned Gryffindor house.”
“So, what? Are you planning on taking down the Zillo Beast in your boxers?”
“Not as ridiculous as being dressed as a clown,” He smirked and then straightened, “But you’re not going to like the sound of this.”
“I haven’t liked the sound of anything tonight.” Obi-Wan grumbled.
“Yeah, well, you’re really going to hate this, but… Skywalker’s missing.”
***
When Tyranus awoke from his state of unconsciousness, he was alone and beneath a layer of dust and debris. Despite his aching body, he rose to his feet and gazed upwards towards a soft draft. He was surprised to find himself alone, or at least, to see that there was no human carnage left behind. The offering table was still dry and fresh of blood, nor had the sword been removed from the center. Only the artifacts had experienced the beast’s true rath. 
Aside from the gaping hole in the ceiling of the once sacred Sith temple, there was no sign of the boy or the beast.
“This is all wrong.” He whispered and clenched his fist tightly.
The prophecy foretold differently and Tyranus had dedicated much of his time to relentlessly examining prophecies that many wizards looked over as folk tales. If what his master said was true, and this boy was to be the sacrificial lamb necessary to enact their quest of domination, tonight was meant to be his descent.
Of course, prophecies had many different meanings and the future was ever fickle. Perhaps, he’d taken it too literally or not literally enough. 
After the fullest Hallows Eve,
The dark beast shall rise as he descends,
And claim her sacrifice to achieve,
A conflict without mends.   
Was his master incorrect about the boy? Tyranus had been suspicious that such revered power could present in a child, but every powerful wizard had to start somewhere. Had that been the case, the Zillo Beast never should have had the strength to escape in the first place.
He stroked his beard, contemplating this only for a moment longer before allowing his eyes to drift over to the fallen statue of Plaguesis, the wise. His head had been crushed to a point of near unrecognition, but still looked fearsome. They all had their part to play in the creation of a greater power and Plaguesis’ had been to relay his exuberant knowledge to the next generation. He had met such a dastardly end by the hand of his own apprentice, but despite his wisdom, had been a fool for playing his entire hand. 
Tyranus twisted the ring around his finger- the one with his family’s crest set onto the garnet stone and thought on this. His master would never make such a mistake with Tyranus- creating just enough space of dependency between them to necessitate his existence. 
There was never a plan he knew the entirety of until the end result. The smallest of details could change an arrangement, after all. Even right now, as he literally stood in the darkness and was surrounded by a destruction of the past while the Zillo Beast’s shrieks echoed in the distance, a new possibility unforeseen arose in front of him.
Perhaps, the boy was not the true sacrifice after all.
***  
As a former Auror, Mace Windu had been exposed to his fair share of darkness both within himself and the outside world. He’d faced fates worse than death on a daily basis at one point in his life. It was part (but not the entire) reason he’d decided to switch to a career of teaching. Headmaster Yoda welcomed him with open arms and had encouraged this career change, stating that they would need a higher level of security at Hogwarts for the coming years anyway. At the time, Mace had been young and not quite sure what to make of that statement, but after teaching at Hogwarts for over twenty years, he finally understood. 
He’d been a former student himself- Gryffindor’s prefect, Quidditch captain, and eventual Head Boy of his year and he never remembered encountering evil during his school days. There was always going to be the occasional accidental mangling by a creature in the forbidden forest or a student that played around with magic the wrong way. It came with the territory of their world and while unfortunate, was not evil.
In the past few months, a change occurred in the belly of the school. The ghosts seemed either uncharacteristically jubilant or horrified, depending on their outlook on the living. As much as he hated to admit Qui-Gon was right, the dark mark had tinged the sky after the tragic burning of a muggle-born house in June.
There were mysterious noises that even Yoda had never heard before and they only seemed to occur at the darkest point of the night. Tonight, of course, was no different. No one could seem to identify where they came from and the established taskforce of Mace Windu, Count Dooku, Qui-Gon Jinn, Shaak Ti, and Sheev Palpatine always rotated where they looked and reported to Yoda. 
And now, there was a gigantic monster enrapturing all of Hogwarts. The first priority was ensuring the safety of his and the other house’s students. He hoped with everything in him that his prefects justified his choice. He went outside to the Quidditch pitches, and through the tunnels until he was in the locker room, relieved to see his three sets of prefects calling off roll to a large group of tired students. However, he knew from a second head count that two students were absent.
“Who’s missing?” He demanded. 
Krell frowned and looked to his checklist, “Anakin Skywalker and Cody Fett.”
Two indiscretions in one evening was rare for anyone, let alone someone with as much to lose as Cody Fett. 
“He went to look for Anakin!” Rex called from where he was situated between his two other brothers and by the looks of it, held down from searching for himself. 
“What would you like us to do?” Krell asked, wand at the ready to charge into battle. The other prefects looked just as set to act. Mace admired their bravery, but it was not what they needed right now.
“I want you to stay put.” He said to everyone. “I’m setting a series of protective charms onto this locker room as well as the girl’s locker room. I believe Hufflepuff has congregated there. Should you leave, you won’t be able to get in without my wand.”
“Makes sense since they play like a bunch of-” Fives began to joke, but was silently cut off by the rightfully lethal glare of Padm é Amidala.
“-Good players.” He finished instead and Echo snickered. “Shut-up, Echo.”
“I’d hardly call this a time for jest.” Krell said pointedly and looked to Mace again, “Trust that we will protect these quarters with our lives.”
“I should hope it won’t come to that.” He responded with a nod before turning back to the black night. As he exited and completed the necessary charms, he met Qui-Gon, Dooku, Shaak-Ti, and Yoda in the center of the pitch.
“I have two students missing.” He said, “Skywalker and a Fett.”
“I just returned from Slytherin’s chambers where Ravenclaw has gathered. I also have two students missing.” Dooku stroked his white beard, much calmer than Mace could ever be in this situation, “Kryze and Kenobi. Evidently, they went to look for stragglers and never returned.”
“We must make finding them our top priority.” Qui-Gon said, concern written all over his features.
“I concur.” Dooku placed a reassuring hand on Qui-Gon’s shoulder. “Truly, I do, but that could be futile if this beast sets the entire school ablaze.”
“What even is that beast, Headmaster?” Shaak Ti asked the question they’d all clearly wanted to.
“An ancient beast, it is.” Yoda said gravely. “Ancient magic, it will require.”
Unfortunately, they didn’t have anything like that on hand. Still, something in Qui-Gon seemed to stiffen as he shared a knowing look with Yoda. Mace tried to prevent the rise of envy that fought way, and instead practiced a calming routine he’d instilled whenever such ugly feelings tried to take hold of him. Yoda and Qui-Gon, despite the ladder being the only member of the taskforce without any true authority, had a bond, regardless of their varying disagreements. The largest agreement, of course, was the belief that all of this could be related to prophecy.
Mace had a difficult time believing that everything that would ever happen was written and predicted by the ancients that knew little of what they were doing, not even sure how to perform a simple fire-setting spell. However, he did try and pay attention when he was privy to these conversations. And this night, was awfully coincidental, if not prophetic.
“Missing, Palpatine also is.” Yoda cut into his thoughts.
“We must find him and the children.” Shaak Ti said. “Buildings can be rebuilt, but bodies cannot be spared from death.”
“Take to the perimeter we must. Capture this beast, we will.”
“Is there no way to kill it, Headmaster?” Dooku asked.
“Not us.” Qui-Gon answered for him.
***
“Anakin?” A kind and concerned voice called.
He popped his head up from where he’d been tucked against a jagged scale and noticed for the first time that the beast had halted, though it felt as though it was vibrating beneath him. A glowing blue aura surrounded him and through a film of this bright light, he could see the silhouette of Professor Palpatine, who had his hand outstretched. His dark blue eyes almost looked black in contrast to his pale skin. His white hair was slicked flat against his head. His robes were much more elegant and traditional than what Palpatine typically wore to teach his class. If he weren’t so relieved to see him, he might have been intimidated by the look. 
“Professor!” He beamed and then looked down to the beast, “How are you doing that?”
“I should be asking you the same thing.” He jested wearily, “Climb off.”
He did as he was told immediately and at first thought he might throw up from all the whiplash he’d endured, but while also subduing the beast with one hand, Palpatine reached out and steadied him with the other. Though he wouldn’t admit it later, he did cower a bit behind the old man before daring to peak out at the beast that caused sufficient damage to the school.
While still, its eyes burned with red fury and it wasn’t directed at Anakin but at Palpatine.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Palpatine said quietly and patted Anakin on the head, “Never forget, that everything has its weaknesses. Even this creature.”
“Are you hurting it?” He whispered.
Palpatine quirked an eyebrow at Anakin curiously, “Of course not. This is merely freezing it in motion. I am not powerful enough to take down a beast like this.”
Upon closer inspection, Anakin confirmed this to be true. Even the snarl of its teeth seemed to be caught in a chomping motion. What it planned to do with those teeth, made him shiver. Its hatred and delivery of attack was clear and yet Palpatine didn’t hesitate to act against it. 
“What is it?” He asked.
“This, my dear boy, is an ancient being called the Zillo Beast. It is notorious for hunting and mutilating wizards in ancient times. They were believed to be ridden of this earth by a famous wizard named Revan.”
And here Anakin believed it to be a friend. He internally cursed.
“Sir, I have to be honest with you.” He trembled and felt a swell of guilt overcome him, “I-I’m the one who-”
However, within the aura of enchantment, Anakin saw that vibrating that he felt beneath his touch a mere moment before turning into a full blown tremble and before he could comment on it, the beast broke the spell like shattered glass. The loudest and hottest burst of hot air expelled them backwards and the beast craned its neck to hover over an unconscious Palpatine, seeming to revel in the moment of conquest and Anakin knew, for the second time that night, what evil truly felt like.
And it was all his fault.
***
“So, you two think that one of the professors unleashed that thing?” Cody asked as they ran, strides intensifying even as the sounds of damage seemed to localize in the distance. He was the superior runner by a longshot, but kept his pace in line with theirs. Satine always appreciated that about him, even if it was a little foolhardy to go running about clad only in underwear.
“Unless it was a very advanced student, yes.” Obi-Wan returned, also not quite out of breath from all the incessant running. Satine decided then and there that she could benefit from more exercise.
“All because some book was missing?” He asked.
“It’s a little too coincidental, wouldn’t you say?” She countered as they avoided a coat of arms that was currently scattered across the ground in their path. “It’s not like ghosts or poltergeists can check out library books.”
“And students require permission to access the section.” Obi-Wan said.
“Remember when you said a little reading wouldn’t kill me?” Cody retorted, “Boy, were you two wrong about that, huh?”
“The book likely carries the information on how to stop it so no, we are not wrong.” Obi-Wan said, but his snarkiness wavered when they turned a bend- his gaze straightforward with concern, “I can’t believe Anakin never returned to bed last night.”
“We’ll find him.” She promised with as much sincerity as she could allow, but this proved difficult as she hopped over a fallen bookshelf in her way. “For all we know, he could have just snuck out to snatch sweets.”
Though when she caught Cody’s eye, both had their suspicions that not only was Anakin involved in all of this somehow, but was likely in danger. Neither was about to voice these thoughts to Obi-Wan, who took his responsibility as mentor very seriously on top of his equally serious prefect status. She didn’t know what she would do if it was Viz somewhere lost in the fold of chaos. 
“Any leads on the professor?” Cody asked and really, she wished they could stop talking while they were sprinting. 
“Yes, we’ve just been dripping with success on the case since we’ve been running for our lives.” Satine said tartly.
“Well, excuse me,” He huffed, “Just trying to collaborate.”
“You know how Satine is when she doesn’t get her proper sleep.” Obi-Wan said and by God, if they weren’t running in ardent determination to find Obi-Wan’s missing mentee from a bloodthirsty monster, she would have tripped him. 
She didn’t have time to conjure up a comeback to his remark, because she stuck an arm out to stop them both in their tracks when something through the gaping hole beside them caught her gaze. Cody followed suit and halted a few meters ahead of them before moving back in confusion. She didn’t take her eyes off the distance, though, and for very good reason.
Clinging to the side of the astronomy tower, was the Zillo Beast in full form. 
***
Qui-Gon and Dooku rounded the stairs up the shaking astronomy tower, not entirely certain of whether or not it could withstand the tension caused by the Zillo Beast, but determined all the more. Despite his age, Dooku took every other step with graceful and unparalleled ease that rivaled Qui-Gon’s own footwork. It was part of why he respected him so and aimed to mirror his collectivity. Even still, they had their differences. Qui-Gon, for instance, was finding it very difficult not to worry for the missing children, with Anakin in particular being the most concerning. 
Dooku had always been more reserved with how he demonstrated care, but after spending decades working together and before that being taught by Dooku, Qui-Gon could read these tells efficiently. His steps were heavy and his eyes were clear with purpose. His friend and former mentor meant nothing but business, but his heart was every bit as involved as his mind. 
“If you taught him well, he will keep Skywalker safe.” He said when they reached the top of the stairs. 
They pushed through the entrance to find a stand-off of sorts. Palpatine lay unconscious and helpless against a stone pillar while young Anakin Skywalker tearfully pointed his quivering wand at the beast, which surprisingly made no moves to attack him. It was as though they were communicating only in their minds. It was unlike anything Qui-Gon had ever seen before, though he’d never witnessed a Zillo Beast in the flesh and never assumed he would given it was supposed to be extinct.
“Anakin!” He called, who broke his gaze with the creature and looked to them with fear in his eyes.
“Don’t come any closer!” He yelled. “It- It’s all my fault!”
Dooku pointed his wand purposefully at the Zillo Beast, but spoke calmly to Anakin, “It’s alright, come here and we can discuss it at a later time.”
The Zillo Beast was enraged at its company, screeching and turning to Dooku with a newfound disrespect, propelling itself forward. Had Qui-Gon not been quick enough to yank them both out of the way, they both would have been crushed.
“Stop it!” Anakin cried, “Don’t hurt them!”
It didn’t seem too keen on listening to his instructions, despite the obvious connection between the two of them, and instead snapped its razor-sharp teeth at them. Qui-Gon tried just about every attack and defense spell in the book, but to no avail. Even as Dooku parried and dodged the creature’s large head, it was obvious they could not maintain this dance any longer.
They would not be able to kill this thing.
“Professors!” Obi-Wan called and Qui-Gon’s and the Zillo Beast’s attention was briefly diverted to three fifth years that came bounding up the steps all dressed in pajamas. Neither had the time to be relieved to see any of them, because their dance with the beast only continued, which shook the structure of the astronomy tower so much that Qui-Gon was certain it would collapse.
“Beneath the armor, we can beat it.” Dooku said with a firm grip of his wand. 
Anakin, plagued by a guilt that Qui-Gon couldn’t understand, as well as more gumption than he’d seen in grown warriors, leapt from the balcony and onto the back of the Zillo Beast. While the small boy didn’t weigh it down in the slightest, it still shook its head relentlessly to try and fling him off. However, Anakin stabbed his wand deep somewhere and the beast raged on with a scream that nearly deafened all of them.
Obi-Wan and Satine were helping him to his feet before he could have the presence of mind to do so. He was far too busy collecting his thoughts on just how they might escape this night alive rather than tucked six feet under. By the way Dooku’s dark eyes lit up at Anakin’s brashness, he’d drawn the same conclusion.
Qui-Gon stopped Obi-Wan from rushing to the railing to ensure Anakin’s safety. He understood the need to do that, because Qui-Gon was fighting every instinct within him too. “I’m glad you lot are here, because we’re going to need all the power we can get.”
Obi-Wan nodded numbly, all too good at tucking away his emotions in the blink of an eye. Cody and Satine, on the other hand, appeared much more distraught, yet both had their wands at the ready. Even Cody, who given his lack of clothing, wouldn’t have had anywhere to put it. 
“Lift the skin, Anakin!” Dooku called.
“What?”
“Lift the rough scales!” He repeated, voice much louder and clearer than Qui-Gon’s could ever hope to be.
“Oh! I’ll try sir, whoa!” He almost slipped and Qui-Gon could sense Obi-Wan’s flinch from beside him. Truthfully, his own heart was in his throat, but he’d never let that show.
After a few more crucial seconds of being tossed around and trying to get his hold on the beast’s scales, Anakin finally leaned back and pulled, leaving just enough of a crevice for a shot to sneak through. Whose it would be, was unknown.
“STUPEFY!” Qui-Gon led the onslaught of attacks and given the vast range of motion exhibited by the scorned Zillo Beast, most of their shots missed horribly, but he felt himself curse everytime they got closer. Dooku was the best shot and didn’t need to say the spell to expel his point. He waved his wand elegantly and efficiently with a swift flick of the wrist. To Qui-Gon’s left, the students were much less practiced than his esteemed mentor, but quicker due to their outstanding youth and resilience. Obi-Wan, in particular, was the crackshot and managed to land the piercing shot. The Zillo Beast wavered, eyes fighting the spell before its head came crashing down against the stone and launched all of them a meter or two in the air. 
Unfortunately, one of Cody’s shots got Anakin when the beast unexpectedly stilled, causing him to instantly roll backwards and towards the ground below them. Qui-Gon was quick enough to catch him midair before the children could so much as scream in response, keeping his wand outstretched while Dooku inspected and made sure the Zillo Beast was incapacitated. 
“Keep stupefying it.” He said.
“Yes, sir.” Dooku said with the barest hints of a smile hiding behind his white beard. It was the most he or anyone would ever get from the consistently serious man. Qui-Gon learned to take what he could get.
Obi-Wan rushed forward to meet Anakin’s floating unconscious body and reached out to pull him onto the broken ground. His head fell into his lap and revealed that aside from catching the backend of a spell, he was virtually unscathed.
“It’ll be almost like a terrible dream.” Qui-Gon assured him, “Though I’m pleased to see you’ve taken to caring for the boy.”
“Well, I’d hate to see what kind of grade I’d receive as a mentor if he was swallowed whole by an ancient beast.” He teased, though the twinkle in his eyes confirmed what Qui-Gon had suspected. Yes, a bond had been established between the two of them. 
“Not as worse of a grade as you would if you dare to wear those to class.” Qui-Gon said in reference to Obi-Wan’s pajamas, “What are you wearing, son?”
The boy’s jaw dropped and Cody tilted his head back in a laughter that shattered any remaining tension from the room. 
“Professor Palpatine is coming to.” Satine reported as she knelt beside Obi-Wan to take her own look at Anakin, the hints of a teasing smile clung to her lips when she met Obi-Wan’s flustered gaze. She said nothing on the matter and evidently did not need to. Qui-Gon suspected she might have already brought Obi-Wan’s questionable fashion choice to his attention. “Though he should probably see medical. That is… If medical is still standing?”
“Quite the question, Ms. Kryze.” Qui-Gon smiled, “I’m sure Madame Nema is proficient enough to tack on band aids without a facility.”
“Sorry I zapped your kid, Kenobi.” Cody said sheepishly. “Though honestly, this is the most peaceful I’ve ever seen him.”
They chuckled at that and Qui-Gon leaned down to scoop Anakin up, ready to carry him back to the common rooms that were hopefully still intact. Otherwise, a nice cot would have to suffice for the boy. 
“We would not have survived this night without him.” He said thoughtfully, “It took true bravery to do what he did.”
“That may be so, Professor, but why did he need to do it at all is the true question.” Obi-Wan said, “Why did this happen?”
Qui-Gon shared a look with Dooku, who was repeatedly stupefying the Zillo Beast with caution and reverence. It was difficult not to admire a relic of another time, especially when there was so much they could learn from it. The bitterness in Dooku’s eyes reflected more on the destruction or possible loss of life that occurred at its hand, of course, but Qui-Gon could only think of what this all meant in the long run.
He was relieved they all got to walk away, but it pondered several queries on Obi-Wan’s very question. While Qui-Gon didn’t know that this, in particular, would happen, it seemed inevitable in hindsight that something of this nature would. And all of it seemed to surround the boy that slept in his arms. 
Cody helped a limping Professor Palpatine down the stairs. The older man turned to him wryly.
“Perhaps, you are right about that boy there, Professor Jinn. He is no doubt special.”
That was what Qui-Gon was afraid of.
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okageshadowkingfannovel · 4 years ago
Text
Book 1: Chapter 14
“Greetings, I am the fortune teller!”
Ari jumps at the sudden, loud voice that accosts him as he takes a first timid step into the Gulp tavern. He’s so distracted by the strange high-pitched sound that at first, he doesn’t quite register what’s being said. If you took a rat and told it to do chores for the next four hours, the sound of its whining and complaining would probably come close to sounding like this voice.
“Huh?”
“There’s a reason I can’t reveal my name. But ‘Love Fortune Teller Number 1’ Is what most people call me.”
Ari’s eyes finally land on the speaker. An extremely short - woman? He thinks it’s a woman anyway - wearing a muted purple dress with black and yellow stripes along the hem. The weirdest element though is a curious sack-like mask with jagged eye and mouth holes that covers the woman’s face.
“Love Fortune Teller Number 1 seems a little … different.”
“My boy, just one look at the crystal and I’ll identify exactly who loves you the most!” At this moment, she reaches into a pocket and slips out a huge crystal ball, seemingly filled with smoke.
“Am I in the right place?”
He looks around to be sure. It’s not a place he visits much, but Ari’s been in enough times to fetch his father to know what it should look like. Even midday, the place is fairly low-lit. Moody oil lamps cast a warm orange glow that goes perfectly with amber colored beverages in clear glasses. Immediately before the door there’s the bar. A grouchy looking woman, the bartender, stands behind it, eying Ari and ‘Love Fortune Teller Number 1’ with skepticism. This is the right place.
“Oh, are you not interested?” Love Fortune Teller Number 1 asks, wiggling stubby fingers over the crystal ball. “What a sad thing - a young man not invested in his love life.”
“Um, no, that’s not …”
“Great! Here we go!”
Love Fortune Teller Number 1 intensifies her finger wiggles, passing her crazed digits over the crystal’s surface.
“Hey! Hey! Hey!” she starts in a strikingly un-majestic way, “Show me, my crystal ball! Show me the one with whom this boy’s life is entwined … hmmm … yes, yes! Ah, it’s coming to me through the fogs of the beyond. Yes, yes.”
“Uh … ma’am, I really have to go-”
“Whoa!”
“What?”
“A childhood friend! Let’s see. Begins with a J. Jodie … Janice …”
“Julia?”
“That’s the one! Yes, her love for you … it shines through the fog … though it sometimes gets obscured by the confusions, the frantic ups and downs of adolescence.”
“I see.”
“Despair not, boy! Do not give up hope!”
“Oi! Love Fortune Teller Number 1! Leave the kid alone,” the bartender suddenly yells.
“Despair not,” continues Love Fortune Teller Number 1, as if nothing just happened, “people inevitably change … as does the love between them.”
Ari stands there for a moment, the words weighing heavy on him with their surprising insight.
“Go home, lady! You’re drunk!”
The fortune teller finally whips towards the bar, and nearly tips over like an unbalanced top.
“I am not drunk! I’ve only had a few! I’m saving love lives here!”
The bartender says nothing, but emphatically points towards the door.
“Fine. Young man, come see me should you ever need some clarity on matters of the heart. I’ll be at the Parm Inn … probably sleeping.”
With that, the little masked fortune teller drops the crystal ball back into her pocket and makes her way tipsily out the door.
“Sheesh!” exclaims the bartender, “she’s been doing that all day. I know we’ve been closed for a long while, but people need to pace themselves. It’s the middle of the day!”
Ari just nods, mildly distracted by the fact that this makes two people now who’ve told him that his childhood friend, Julia, has been harboring a major crush for him.
“Anyway, what can I do for you, hun? Your dad hasn’t been in if that’s why you’re here.”
“No. Uh … actually, I was wondering if anyone … I mean, have you heard anything about a …” Ari feels obligated to lower his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “… a map of evil kings?”
The bartender stares at him for a minute, but then turns and nods her head towards the other side of the bar. “That one’s been going on and on about it since we reopened.”
Ari follows her gesture and finds …
“Is that the ringmaster?”
Further into the bar, the oil lamps give way to sunlight leaking in through two small arched windows set high in the wall. Most of the tables sit empty, waiting for the late evening when drinking heavily is a bit more socially acceptable. However, at one table tucked away in the corner, there sits the rotund figure of the circus ringmaster. His mustache, his wide empty eyes, and his tall top hat are unmistakable. The bartender nods, but then sighs with disdain.
“Once he starts to drink, he really gets drunk. Don’t know what to do with him.”
The rotund man shifts to readjust his seating and then dramatically tilts his head back to put away another drink. The sound of a deep, guttural burp crosses the bar. Ari grimaces.
“Thanks, ma’am.”
Forcing the disgust from his expression, Ari makes his way to the far off table. When he finds his place just behind the ringmaster’s shoulder, the smell of sweat, peanuts, and stale popcorn hits him one hundred fold and he has to painfully stifle a gagging cough.
“Stupid troopers,” mumbles the ringmaster to himself, “ugh, leaving without me …”
Another burp punctuates his lament.
“So this is the lowlife who’s spreading that swill!”
Suddenly, Stan pops up out of the floor.
“Hey you! I hear you’ve been spreading tall tales that there’s more than one Evil King!”
The ringmaster jumps and spins round in his seat.
“What?! … o-oh … you’re that kid … the one I saw the other night, with the shadow.”
“Yeah,” Ari confirms.
“Now that I got a good look,” he says, getting up from his chair and stumbling closer to Ari, “you’ve got an interesting shadow with ya there.”
“Interesting?! Agghh, fine! Whatever! Just know this, fat man - if you speak of this ‘Map o’ Evil Kings’ rubbish again, I may just shut that mouth of yours permanently!”
“Oh?” replies the ringmaster with a hiccup, “you want it? Sure thing.”
He reaches into his waistcoat and retrieves a tattered, crease patterned sheet of parchment the color of over steeped tea. Ari takes it gingerly.
“Lately, they’ve been saying a fearful Evil King’s shown up in Madril. I swear, it’s true. Ha ha ha, it’s funny really. So, what are you going to do about it, Shadow Evil King?”
The words make time stand still. Ari stares at the ringmaster, re-evaluating the man behind the polka-dotted waistcoat and the peanut smell. Even the village elder thought Stan was just some weird magic trick, but the ringmaster … he knows?
“Shadow Evil King?” repeats Ari dumbfounded.
“Curses,” spits Stan, “you’re more than just some drunk mortal, aren’t you? who are you?!”
“Ugh, I think I’m gonna barf …”
Ari scrambles back a step.
“Heh heh, too much fun last night.”
“Answer me!”  barks King Stan.
But the ringmaster pays him no mind and falls back into his chair.
“Barkeep, give me 10 minutes and then bring over another bottle, would ya?”
“Not today, ringmaster! I’m cutting you off. You’ve got 5 seconds to get out of my bar and back over to the Parm Inn.”
Feeling that his interrogation of the ringmaster has decidedly come to an end, Ari moves back towards the tavern entrance before he can get caught in the bartender’s last nerve.
“Hey boy, wait! Why don’t we take a look at that map.”
“Oh, right.”
Ari almost forgot about the limp piece of paper still clutched in his fingers. He looks around, notices the bartender irritably making her way over to the unbudged ringmaster, and decides to slip over to the opposite end of the tavern. He turns up the flame in one of the oil lamps and holds the map up to catch the orange light.
The map has been folded and unfolded in a variety of different ways, each leaving a sharp hill or valley in its memory. All the world is there, rising and falling with the abundance of crinkles and creases. Ari’s eyes immediately fall on his home country, a shape like a dribbled glob of gravy. Around its edges are nameless squiggles and lines representing only God knows what. But to the north in the gravy glob country, there is Tenel, shown by a tiny little dot.
“Eh? What’s this? 1 … 2 … There are more Evil Kings than myself?”
Scanning his eyes over the expanse, Ari notices the other, more unusual map markings. Little black crowns are stamped all across the world. One blocks the dot labeled Madrid to Tenel’s southeast and another covers Rishero, a place further south that Ari’s never heard of before. But not just towns, they cover all over, haphazardly, without rhyme or reason.
Ari can’t help but notice that no such black crown appears in Tenel.
“On top of that, where’s my crown?! I’m not even on this stupid map! James! James! Where are you?!”
In the next moment, a glowing white portal blossoms up from the floor, spitting wind and mist into Ari’s face. James slowly emerges from the mist, but backwards, facing away from his master.
“Like the setting sun … the glistening moon …”
The evil butler spins around, seeming startled by the change in scenery. He quickly recovers and genuflects.
“Oh, Master! How might I serve?”
“James!” Stan barks, flailing about in classic Stan fashion, “straiten this out, will you? Am I not the one and only Evil King? The successor of the great Evil King Gohma? Who are these other Evil Kings?!”
“Hmmmmmm,” muses James as he gazes upon the map, “well, Master, I will tell you. These others are impostors. Encroachers. Evil Kings only in name.”
“Fake Evil Kings?” asks Ari.
“Precisely. While you were inside the bottle, my Master, they must have stolen your powers, and then went about claiming to be Evil Kings. That must be it!”
“You got all that just by looking at the map?”
James shrugs. “How else could such a thing be? There is only one Evil King and that is my Master.”
“Hmmmmm, I see. I knew something was wrong. These Tenel villagers called me - me - my dark majesty, a … ‘nice guy!’”
“Well, you did get that one lady’s hat out of the tree …”
“Shuddup! Naturally, if my power were at its peak, they would have wept and groveled before me. Yes! That must be it! So it was all the doing of these usurpers! These self-proclaimed Evil Kings were stealing my power!”
“How did they-”
“There is just one thing to do! Slave, you know what that is, don’t you?!”
“Uh …”
“Master!” James exclaims excitedly, “Of course! Of course!”
“Indeed! We’re going to take out all of those phony Evil Kings and get back all of my dark powers!”
“Oh … uh …”
“Then, the whole world will tremble and kneel before me as they rightfully should! Slave, let’s do this! An expedition of conquest!”
“But, um, K-King Stan … uh … Julia … girl …”
“You have nerve, slave! I may not have my full power, but you disobey me and a three hour tickling torture will be waiting for you!”
“Tickling?”
“Master,” James intervenes, “if I may, the teenage girl, Julia, has a bit of a crush on your slave.”
Ari stares at James. Even the evil butler knows?!
“For a kid as uncool as you,” James continues, “this could be your last chance for romance. That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?”
“… well, I wouldn’t have put it quite like that …”
“Touching …” Stan says flatly, “But you’re my slave. You are stuck with me! Ha ha ha! Enough of this romantic rot! We must pack for the journey! To your house! Come on, Slave!”
“But …”
“Oh, that ‘Map o’ Evil Kings.’ How infuriating! Don’t lose that, Slave. It should keep us on the trail of those upstart impostors!”
Before Ari can cough up any more half-formed protests, Stan slips back down into the floor and James bows himself back into the whirling portal. He is left alone with the crushing defeat of having lost love before it could even begin. Feelings of uncoolness settle over him.
Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5 • Chapter 6 • Chapter 7 • Chapter 8 • Chapter 9 • Chapter 10 • Chapter 11 • Chapter 12 • Chapter 13 • Chapter 14 • Chapter 15 • Chapter 16 - Finale
NOTE: Okage Shadow King is owned by Sony Computer Entertainment and Zener Works. This novelization is purely a fan-work and the writer claims no ownership over the characters, general plot line(s), etc.
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bro-stoevsky · 5 years ago
Note
Could I please request Hartving and the class differences prompt? Love your writing!
oh friend. please understand i tried with this one. i really tried. like i have seen the terror approximately 5,000 times and i still started this fanfiction by googling “hartnell the terror” so that’s the level of sophistication you’re dealing with. this is my first attempt at writing either of these guys and I hope you like (don’t mind?) it! thank you for this prompt & sorry in advance
Tears Into Thy Bottle
In which Tom Hartnell’s brother dies under mysterious pre-canon circumstances, Irving tries to do a Good Deed, and no one is happy for even 30 seconds. 
Tom Hartnell removed his brother’s things from his sea chest one by one, feeling miserable and invasive. The chest had been left in disarray; the unruly boy who came home so many times with mud on his knees had, in the end, not even had a clean shirt to be buried in.
Hartnell took out trousers, the badly-folded coat John had worn on land, a pipe, and another pipe. Shoes that would not fit him and shirts he did not need. When he came upon a silhouette portrait of a woman he looked it over, curious, for a name, and his heart throbbed when he recognized their mother. He would have to be the one to bring her the news. He would tell her that her firstborn son had carried her portrait from Gillingham to the end of the map, and kept on carrying it.
“Alright, Tom?” He tore his eyes from the portrait, noticing belatedly that someone had put a hand on his shoulder. It was Harry Peglar of the foretop, quiet and tactful. “Mr. Armitage is here for you, Tom.”
“Mr. Armitage?” said Hartnell, not understanding what the gunroom steward would want of him or what interest he might have in a dead man’s old clothes.
“Mr. Armitage,” Peglar affirmed. “He has a message for you.”
Armitage was indeed there waiting, wringing his hands. “I’m awful sorry,” he said, “but Lt. Irving would like to see you, Tom.”
It made less and less sense. “Lt. Irving? What could he want with me?”
Hickey laughed. The crass, rude caulker’s mate had been somewhat in John’s orbit, at arm’s length but never entirely rejected, and he had come for his share of the dead man’s tobacco.
 “What couldn’t he want, that one? I’ll tell you what I think: you on your knees,” Hickey paused for a long time as he puffed on his pipe, grinning as he held everyone’s attention. With visible relish he reached his conclusion: “In prayer.”
All at once, Hartnell’s friends hissed at him.
“Can’t you show some fucking respect,” said Gibson. “His brother’s just died.”
“And the good lieutenant will pray for his soul,” Hickey replied.
“See what the lieutenant wants,” Peglar advised, “and I can keep my eye on John’s things. I’m sure you won’t be long away.”
Hartnell nodded, rising to follow Armitage up and aft to the officers’ cabins.
“Lieutenant,” said Armitage as he knocked on one of the doors. “Tom Hartnell is here for you sir, as you asked.”
The door slid back. Hartnell knuckled his forehead.  
“That will do, thank you, Mr. Armitage,” said Irving. “Mr. Hartnell. Will you come in? I’m afraid there isn’t much room, but I should like to speak privately to you.”
“Aye, sir,” said Hartnell, and stepped inside. It was the finest and most rarified place he had been aboard the ship, and it disappointed him to discover that the cabin was miserably small, little more than a bed and a cramped writing desk. Irving’s bed was neatly-made and there was a writing set on his desk, a sheet of unmarked white paper waiting for him. Hartnell searched these items for a clue in Irving’s purpose and could find nothing.
Irving shut the door behind him. “I grieve for your loss,” he said, meeting Hartnell’s eyes. “Your brother was a good seaman and well-liked. Will you accept my condolences?”
“Of course, sir,” said Hartnell, uncomfortable. He had known that Terror’s third lieutenant had a serious, searching gaze, but to have that wide-eyed attention pointed toward him at close quarters was unnerving.
“You do not need to stand,” said Irving, himself taking a seat at his writing desk. There was nowhere else to sit except the bed, and Hartnell hesitated at taking that liberty. “Please be at your ease, Hartnell. I’m sorry I can’t offer you a chair, but the bed will do you just as well. Are you—have you had your rum? I could call Mr. Armitage back.”
“I have had it, sir.” And more besides—the bosun having seen fit to measure out a final tot for John. He sat down on the bed, and the frame creaked. “There is nothing else I need.”
They passed a moment in silence. Irving laced his fingers together and separated them. “Death is harder to bear when it comes far from home,” he said. “It should not be so but it is. Would it comfort you for me to say that it matters not a whit, how far we roam? For our true home is in Heaven, and on Judgment Day your brother will not be forgotten.”
 It was not comforting at all, and in fact Hartnell did not like to think about Judgment Day or any of the other more dreary Christian aspects. “Thank you, sir.”
Irving sighed. “But I haven’t eased your mind a bit. I can tell from your face. You know, I asked Lt. Little for permission to speak with you, and his reply was, ‘If it please you, only don’t frighten the boy with your talk.’ And of course that’s just what I’ve done.”
“It would have to be worse than that to frighten me,” said Hartnell.
“Good man,” said Irving. His face did something that was nearly a smile, and it made his gaze less uncomfortably luminous and more congenial. “You know it was never my intention—is never my intention—to be such dismal company. Of course it would have been better for me to have said something more benign, your brother is on a cloud somewhere looking down on you.”
“You would not be the first to tell me so,” Hartnell admitted. He had, for the better part of the afternoon, been assured that John watched over him and sang in a celestial choir and would guide them all to the Passage.
“I know it. And you have all my compassion. It is only that I think it is a hard world, and it does us no good to pretend it is not governed by hard philosophy.”
This was altogether more speech than Hartnell had heard from an officer in his entire career at sea. He looked at Irving and was reminded that this man was very near his own age, and the only officer to wear a beard, very probably to obscure the boyishness of his features. From his conversation, it was clear that he did not find much sympathy with his views from his fellow officers—at once the tiny room and the privilege of privacy seemed horribly lonely.
“You make sense to me, sir,” said Hartnell, a little unsure who was being comforted.
Irving smiled completely. “You are kind to say so. But I had asked you here in the hope that I might provide you a more practical service. I do not know when we shall next have the opportunity to post the mail, but when we do, it will be better to be prepared. Should you like to send a letter to your mother, I will gladly take it down for you.”
“Sir?” The blank sheet of paper and the inkwell was explained, then.
“Your mother—she is living, yes? I thought I had seen it in the purser’s log.”
Hartnell saw her in his mind’s eye. He wondered if it was possible she did not already know what had happened. Surely she did. Surely the mystical powers bestowed by motherhood had alerted her already to calamity. And if not, John would have found some way to inform her.
“She is living,” he affirmed. “But sir, I can read and write.”
Horror dawned on Irving’s face. “I had not thought,” he said. “But of course you can. It was not my intention to insult you—I shall not take more of your time. Will you please express my consolation to her?”
Hartnell felt his face flush as he realized his misstep. He had contradicted an officer, the very thing that above all was not done in the sea service. For even young, even lonely, Irving was the third lieutenant of their ship and his word was as God’s to the ratings. But Hartnell’s mind was soft and fatigued with grief and he had not reacted correctly.
He tried to revise his story: “I should not have said that, sir, forgive me. I mean I can read and write a little, but not very well. I should be glad of your help.” He wondered, in the back of his mind, how Irving proposed his mother to read the letter, if she had indeed raised an illiterate child. 
Irving’s smile in response was enough that Hartnell was ashamed to have thought any ill of him. Young, he thought again, and lonely.
“Is this time convenient?” Irving asked, already wetting his pen.
Hartnell thought of his brother’s sea chest—the mess that John had not meant anyone to see, the junk that had turned in the space of a few hours into relics of the dead, the heartbreaking portrait of their mother—he had no desire to return. He had no desire to see any of it again, to dole it out to their friends, to hear the caulker’s mate make his crude remarks. “There is nowhere else for me to be,” he replied.
Irving gave him that shy look again, and wrote something on the sheet. “I am writing an introduction,” he explained, “in case she does not recognize the writing. And then you may say what you like, and I’ll write it down.”
“Can you start out with, ‘My dear Mother—’ or, ought I to put our location at the top?”
“I have already done so. ‘My dear Mother,’ it is a very good beginning. What then?”
“And then—I should go to the point. ‘I have terrible news,’” he tried to think of how to put this terrible news, but he could not take his mind away from the sea chest. He thought of his mother, darning one of John’s shirts, complaining that he was too rough on them. He thought of her portrait, which John had never showed him. “‘Terrible news, Mama,’” he repeated again, and when he tried a third time his voice broke and he began to weep.
Irving set down his pen. “Hartnell?” he asked, and there was a scrape of his chair as he crossed the step or so to the bunk. “Hartnell, let me get you a handkerchief—I have one—” there was a clattering of things around the desk, and then Irving was handing him a white square of fabric.
“Forgive me, sir, ” said Hartnell, wiping at his eyes and his nose. “I should return to the fo'c’s'le. I am not fit for your company. You have been too kind already.”
Irving sat down beside him, and after a minute’s hesitation took Hartnell’s hand in two of his own. “There is nothing to forgive. Come now—come now, your brother is with God.”
Grief did nothing to dull Hartnell’s other senses, and he realized that Irving’s palm was damp. He thought, distantly, of the propriety of their position, and Hickey’s crass remarks, and he was not compelled by these objections. It did him good to feel another living person beside him, someone whose attention was only on his comfort.
“Do you think so, sir?”
“I am certain,” said Irving.
They sat in silence for some time as Hartnell reeled himself in and regained his composure.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he said again, looking at the handkerchief. The initials J.I. were embroidered on it. “I can wash this.”
“Do not trouble yourself,” Irving replied. He withdrew his hands. “It is a gift. As for the letter—I should have seen I was keeping you from your mates. Perhaps we shall try again tomorrow.”
“Of course, sir. But you’re not keeping me from anything.”
Irving stood up, and paused during his step to the desk. He looked at Hartnell again—shy, round-eyed and eerie—and he nodded with satisfaction. “Stay then, and we will finish your letter.”
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fanfictionaries · 5 years ago
Text
Love and Academia Ch. 8 - Texting and Treats
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Pairing: AU Professor!Bucky x OFC
Warnings: Swearing, smut, NSFW/18+ only, mentions of death/violence/suicide, Angst
Author’s note: Flirting? FLIRTING? That is all. 
And as always, I do not currently have a beta reader so please excuse any larger issues. It’s just little ol’ me!
***
One month. One month was all it took for the weather to turn and with it, Emily’s brain to mush. She was tired of staring at spreadsheets. Tired of Excel formulas and mapping software. Tired of literary research. And most importantly, tired of having to see Dr. Barnes’ face. To be fair, things were undeniably better than they had been the first few weeks of the semester. It was honestly a relief not having to act so cold towards him. It left room for more productive things like revisions, classes, and figuring out what the heck was going on with her advisor and his wife. Despite her best efforts, Emily had found herself consumed by the mystery that was Dr. James Buchanan Barnes’ love life.
“Now when we think about the different kinds of life cycles that organisms have, we usually think primarily of the gametic life cycle,” said the man in question from his place at the front of the classroom.
Emily sat in the right most seat, in the front row of the lecture hall casually listening. While this was all information she learned years ago, it was encouraged that teaching assistants attended the lectures that coincided with the labs they taught. That way they could match the content effectively. Glancing around the room, she wanted to laugh at the number of young, freshman girls sat in the front. They probably thought they hit the jackpot. First semester of college and they had possibly the hottest professor they would ever encounter. Emily thought back to her own professors during her time at Montana State. Every last one of them was over fifty and balding. Definitely not something to fantasize about.
“The gametic life cycle is the life cycle of most animals. However, there is also the sporic and zygotic life cycles.” Dr. Barnes turned to write the three life cycle names on the chalk board behind him. Emily’s eyes wandered to his broad shoulders encased by a green flannel shirt tucked into a pair of khaki pants that hugged his perfectly sculpted behind. No. She couldn’t think like that. He was married. This she could not deny by the wedding ring he kept so obviously on his left hand. But hadn’t he pretty much told her that his wife didn’t live with him? Just him and Trixie in that big house.
Trixie. God. She felt so stupid when she found out that Trixie was his dog and not his wife. If she had let herself focus on the moment for any longer than a second, she might come to the conclusion that jealousy had fueled the embarrassment. She expected him to be on a date with his loving wife. Not spending the night walking his dog and coming home to an empty house. But that was not the case. Instead, she chose to conclude that the embarrassment stemmed from the fact that she had made any assumption in the first place. No one liked to be wrong. Right?
Still, none of that answered her burning question. Where was Dr. Barnes’ wife? She had a few theories. Perhaps she hadn’t moved from Brooklyn yet. He had just moved into the area. Couples would move separately sometimes. One moving first and the other coming later when their job allowed. But if that were the case, then why did he look so sad when he mentioned being alone?
“Can anyone tell me what kind of organisms experience a zygotic life cycle?” Dr. Barnes asked, turning back to the class. A plethora of eager hands shot straight up in the air. Smiling in amusement, he called on one of the girls from the front row.
“Yes, Miss Hendrickson.”
“Is it plants, like mosses?” the young girl answered. Emily wanted to laugh. Clearly, she hadn’t done the reading and only raised her hand at the opportunity for Dr. Barnes to call on her.
Maybe he had been sad because he’s a good husband who loves his wife and misses her. Well, if that were true, then he wouldn’t have taken off his wedding ring and almost hooked up with her. Emily’s mind wandered to that night, as it often did. The cool brick digging into her back as he devoured her. The stubble of his beard so deliciously rough. The strength of his hands as he gripped her body tightly.
“Miss Colvert, would you like to enlighten the rest of the class?”
“Huh?” Emily broke from her momentary fantasy to see all eyes on her. Dr. Barnes liked to do this. When no one else knew the answer, he’d call on her. It was like a little test on her basic knowledge of biological concepts.
“It appears no one knows what has a zygotic life cycle. Would you like to give us the answer?” Dr. Barnes elaborated, looking at her expectantly.
“Oh, um. That would be fungi and protists. They’re haploid most of their life cycle and the zygote is the only diploid phase before it undergoes meiosis to produce haploid cells.”
“Very good Miss Colvert—” he smiled at her, a brief flash of brilliantly white teeth “—Now, let’s go ahead and draw out the zygotic life cycle to give everyone a better idea.” Dr. Barnes turned once again towards the board as he continued on with the lecture.
There was always the harsh fact that Dr. Barnes had in fact stopped things that night before they went too far. Maybe he regretted it. Maybe it was just a momentary lapse in judgement. Maybe him and his wife were separated, and he wasn’t ready to fully let go. At the thought, Emily felt her heart leap with excitement. The emotion was quickly followed by a strong wave of guilt. Emily shook her head, trying to clear it of her messy thoughts. This was taking up too much brain space. Space she needed for her thesis.
Whatever the answer was, it didn’t matter. Dr. Barnes was her advisor. There was a clear line that could not be crossed. Therefore, it did not matter. She needed to let the subject go and just move on.
Two days of “moving on”, Emily found herself elbow deep in flour, butter, sugar, and eggs, but no less preoccupied by the thoughts of Dr. Barnes.
“Tell me why we needed to use my kitchen when you have a perfectly good one?” Emily asked Natasha, looking at the disastrous mess around her. Flour covered every surface, including the floor and themselves. Butter wrappers and eggshells sat piled high in the trashcan. Splashes of cookie dough coated countertops and cabinet fronts. And Natasha was planted squarely in front of the oven, watching the fruits of their labor bake.
“Because, you have the most baking supplies out of everyone I know,” said Natasha, never tearing her anxious eyes away from the small glass window. She was a mess. Several pieces of red hair had fallen from her attempted ponytail. Blobs of cookie dough hug from the strands, sticking like large, grotesque, white grub worms. Flour covered all of her clothes and a manic expression covered her face. Oh, she had it bad.
“You know, the cookies aren’t going to bake any faster by you staring at them.”
“I can’t let them burn, Emily. This is important!” exclaimed Natasha, threading her fingers through her sticky hair and pulling at the roots.
“Hey. Hey, hey, hey—” Emily slid off her place on the countertop and crouched down next to Natasha on the floor “—Listen. There are already five dozen perfectly baked snickerdoodles sitting in Tupperware on my dining room table. The world won’t end if this last dozen gets a little dark.”
“But-but—”
“No, no, no. No buts. Besides, you only volunteered to bring two dozen cookies to Steve’s bake sale. Remember?”
“Yea, but I mean, we-we needed—”
“Test batches. Yes. I remember the last five hours very vividly.” Emily cupped her best friend’s face in her hands and stared into her frightened eyes, “Steve is going to love these. Please, breathe.”
Natasha nodded, taking a deep breath, “Okay. Okay, yea you’re right. You’re right. I just need to calm down.”
They both stood, pulling each other into a tight hug before separating and beginning to tidy up the kitchen. As Emily wiped the cabinet fronts with a washrag, she finally felt like Natasha was in the right headspace for her to ask the question that had been on her mind all afternoon.
“Hey so, you and Steve have gotten pretty close the last month and a half, yea?”
“Yea, it’s been so great. You know, I really think that taking it slow was the best idea,” said Natasha as she dumped a dirty bowl in the sink and turned the faucet on.
“And I’m sure he’s probably told you a lot of stuff about him…and his friends…”
“Where is this going Emily?”
“Has he mentioned anything about Dr. Barnes or like…his wife?” The moment the words left her mouth, Emily knew it was a mistake to ask.
“No. Absolutely not. I am not doing this with you Emily,” said Natasha, throwing the kitchen sponge down into the soapy water.
“What?” Emily asked, trying to pretend she hadn’t just asked her best friend for details about her advisor’s marriage.
“Don’t ‘what’ me, Emily Colvert. You know what you’re doing. Actually, no. Do you know what you’re doing?” Natasha leant against the countertop and crossing her arms in front of her.
“I’m trying to get to know my advisor better?”
“No, you’re trying to use my still very new relationship to get dirt on a marriage that doesn’t involve you!”
“You know, you used to be a lot more fun. What happened to fun Nat?”
“She started dating a kindergarten teacher. Now, answer this question Emily: why do you want to know about his wife? I thought we hated this man,” Natasha said, staring skeptically at her.
“We did, but now we might be okay with him…” Emily admitted, unable to look directly at the admittedly terrifying woman that was her best friend.
“Emily, are you sleeping with him? Because if you are, I don’t know whether I should be disappointed or oddly proud.”
“No! I’m not sleeping with him! I’m just curious!”
“Okay, I’m only going to say this once—” Natasha walked towards her “—he is your advisor. The details of his marriage are none of your business. As your therapist—”
“You’re not my therapist—”
“—And your friend, I highly recommend that you keep your curiosity buried. Deep down. You know, where you keep all the shit you probably should talk about. And stop trying to sabotage my relationship with Steve by making me snoop for you.”
“I’m sorry, you’re right,” Emily apologized, guilty for having tried to rope Natasha into her craziness.
“I know you’re going through a lot right now. But, not cool man. Not cool,” said Natasha, her tone lighter as she nudged Emily’s side.
Natasha’s phone buzzed from the counter, subsequently putting an end to their conversation. The smile that spread across her face as she checked her phone told Emily exactly who it was. Steve.
“What does hunky farm boy want now?” Emily asked, turning to the sink and taking over washing the dishes.
“Parent-teacher conferences ended early. He wants make me dinner,” said Natasha, still smiling down at her phone as her thumbs typed away.
“Ooooo dinner at his place. Does this mean you’re finally going to…ya know?” Emily raised her eyebrows suggestively.
“God. I hope so. He’s so hot Emily. I went and visited him at work the other day and he was having a tea party with a couple of the girls in his class during play time. I’ve never wanted to fuck a man in a flower sunhat so badly in my life,” groaned Natasha, burying her face in Emily’s back.
“I can’t even begin to imagine what goes on inside of your bedroom,” Emily said, shaking her head in exasperation as she scrubbed at a spatula.  
“There’s a lot of roleplay and prop use,” mumbled Natasha into Emily’s back.
“Yea, I didn’t need to know that,” said Emily, wriggling away from the tiny red head. “Now, get out of here. Take your cookies and go have sex your very single, very hot kindergarten teacher.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice!” Natasha exclaimed, practically skipping out of the kitchen. Emily heard the faint sounds of Natasha grabbing her stuff and a muffled “Wish me luck!” before her front door slammed shut. Lord have mercy on that man.
She continued to clean the kitchen as she thought about the advice that Nat had given her. Natasha was right. She knew she was right. For all the gripe she gave the woman, she really did give the best advice. But still, she didn’t see any reason why it would be so wrong to get to know the man. As friends of course. Purely as friends. There was nothing wrong with having your advisor as a friend. She was friends with Dr. Erskine. He was married. Why couldn’t she be friends with Dr. Barnes? A little voice somewhere in the back of her mind tried to remind her that she had never been in a situation where she almost slept with Dr. Erskine, but she ignored it. They had agreed to try and have a working relationship. Therefore, everything that had happened was in the past.
Drying the last dish and placing it back into the cupboard, the timer on her phone chimed alerting her that the last batch of cookies was done. She pulled the piping hot, cinnamon-sugar creations from the oven and placed it on the stovetop before turning the alarm off on her phone. The scent of the delicious treats made her mouth water. It was going to be a challenge not eating all of them in one sitting, but at least Natasha only left her with a single batch. Turning out of the kitchen, she found her assumption to be incredibly incorrect. There, sitting on her dining room table, was nearly three dozen cookies. Emily sighed. Apparently, she’d be responsible for finding a home for all the test batches. She could probably pawn a dozen off of on Sam and CeCe. There was always the graduate student lounge. People left food there all the time. Of course, she’d keep half a dozen for herself – there was no way she could resist snickerdoodles.
Suddenly, a self-proclaimed sweets lover popped into her head.
Pulling up the message app on her phone she sighed as she stared at the string of unanswered texts from Clint. He’d been trying to contact her since the day she kicked him out. Emily wanted none of it. Every call she sent straight to voicemail and every text she left on read. She took a moment to glance at the most recent texts.
Clint:
Babe. I swear to you, I didn’t want to go to Goody’s. I wasn’t there with Sharon. It was a lab thing. I found out where we were going when they pulled into the parking lot.
Clint:
Things with Sharon and me are over.
Clint:
How many times do I have to tell you that it meant nothing? It was just a stupid mistake.
Clint:
The least you could do is answer my calls and talk to me like an adult.
Clint:
This is exactly why I did what I did! You’re always so unwilling to open yourself up emotionally to me! I wouldn’t have cheated if my emotional needs were being met.
Clint:
I’m sorry Em. I didn’t mean that.
Clint:
It’s completely my fault. I’m just going crazy without you. I miss you. Please talk to me.
A small part of Emily told her to text him back. He gave her two years of his life. Didn’t she at least owe him the decency to explain himself? A larger part of her scoffed at the thought. No. She gave him two years of her life, and he didn’t even have the decency not to cheat on her. To hell with him and his reasons and opinions.
Pulling up her conversation with Dr. Barnes’, she smiled at his contact name – Brooklyn. She only meant it as a way to tease him about his big city caution, never as an actual nickname. But apparently, he liked it. So, she kept it. Moving back into the kitchen, Emily picked up one of the hot cookies and began to nibble on the edge as she popped herself up onto the counter.
Emily:
Question – do you still happen to have a major sweet tooth?
Absentmindedly, she chewed on the cookie, switching over to Twitter and telling herself that it wasn’t a big deal that she texted him. It was casual. It was just a casual question. She had extra cookies. He probably liked cookies. Normal. Super normal. However, the way her heart leapt in her chest and her phone leapt in her hand made her feel anything but normal.
Brooklyn:
If I didn’t, would I be going to town on the three loaves of banana bread Steve dropped off earlier?
Emily:
Bake sale?
Brooklyn:
Bake sale.
Emily:
Test batches?
Brooklyn:
Yup. He wanted to impress Natasha. How did you know?
Emily:
I just spent the last five hours baking with Nat. We made a lot of test batches.
Brooklyn:
Wow. They were made for each other.
Emily couldn’t agree more. If Steve truly spent the entire afternoon baking multiple loaves of banana bread to impress Natasha, then her best friend might have found the one.
Emily:
So, I’m guess since you already have three loaves of banana bread you probably don’t want any snickerdoodles?
Brooklyn:
I never said that.
She laughed at his quick response.
Brooklyn:
Are they any good?
Emily:
It’s my personal recipe.
Brooklyn:
That doesn’t answer the question.
Emily:
It’s the best cookie you’ll ever have.
Brooklyn:
The best? That’s a pretty strong statement.
Emily:
I wouldn’t make it if it wasn’t true.
Dots appeared on the screen as Dr. Barnes responded. Emily watched, wondering what he could possibly be typing as the seconds ticked by. Finally, they disappeared to be replaced by his response.
Brooklyn:
Do I get to taste your cookie?
Emily choked on the bite of cookie she’d been chewing. Coughing and sputtering, she attempted to dislodge the treat from her throat. When she’d finally managed to avoid certain death, she turned the faucet on beside her and used her hand to scoop water into her mouth. Glancing back down at the phone in her other hand, she stared at the message. Did he mean it to sound that way? To sound so dirty? Heart beating prominently in her ears, she gathered what courage she had and replied.
Emily:
You can have a taste.
Emily:
Of my cookie that is.
Oh god. Way to keep it professional. What had she done?
Brooklyn:
I’m sure your cookie is delicious. When can I have a bite?
Abort. Abort. Things were quickly getting out of hand. She was exchanging sexual innuendos with the man when all she wanted was to get rid of some of her extra baked goods. The way she saw it, Emily had two options: keep the flirting going and see where it went or put a stop to it now. In a panic, she chose the second option.
Emily:
I’ll bring a dozen into the lab tomorrow! I’m sure you’ll like them. Feel free to share them with the other professors as well. G2G! See you in class.
Hitting send, Emily threw her phone face down onto the counter. Shoving the rest of the snickerdoodle into her mouth, she jumped off the counter and walked towards the bathroom. She needed a long, cold shower.
Marvel Taglist: 
@caffiend-queen​
@hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall​
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always5hineee · 4 years ago
Text
The Final Bell- Chapter 14: Avoid this Discussion
Chapter Warnings: None- (besides awkwardness)
Word count: 1797    
Story is also available under Taffysamg on Quotev and Wattpad.
To see the full chapter list, go to the “Final Bell” Tab on my page.
-----
       Everyone was silent on the car ride home. Mark had tried to start a conversation when they met back up, but it wasn't long before he sensed tension. In light of that, he didn't want to interrupt. Still, Y/N and Taeil couldn't exactly mull over what had happened in front of him. It seemed that he wasn't willing to let it go, though.
       When they got back to camp, people were beginning to pack up. She guessed that they had finally decided to get back on the road. Subsequently, this meant that most of the tents were packed up, save a few personals as well as the huge storage area. When the van was in park, Mark turned to her.
       "So, do you wanna-"
       "Actually, Y/N and I need to have a conversation." Taeil cut him off, getting out of the driver's side door.
       "Didn't you talk while we were hunting?"
       "Didn't you?" They were both glaring at each other, evidently in some sort of mental turf war. Finally, Mark sighed, scoffing as he turned away.
       "Whatever, have fun." He muttered, walking towards Taeyong, who was packing up bins. She wanted to go after him, but once again, Taeil was dragging her off somewhere. She tried to pull back, but he had a surprisingly strong grip. It was only a minute before they were far enough away from everyone for his satisfaction.
       "So, are we gonna talk about this?"
       "Talk about what, Taeil? I didn't do anything!" He put a hand to the bridge of his nose as if trying to clear a headache.
       "I kissed you."
       "Yes."
       "And you kissed me." She stayed silent, unwilling to admit that fact. "You did." He pressed further.
       "I... suppose."
       "So?" She breathed in deeply, shutting her eyes. She wasn't sure exactly what she wanted to say. Did she like him? She had been too focused on all of the more pressing issues to even consider starting a relationship with anyone. Not only that, but she wasn't all that familiar with Taeil. He had driven her places, occasionally helped her out, but that was all. Was it what she wanted? Did he even know if it was what he wanted? How would it make everyone else feel?
       "Listen, Taeil..." She started, glancing awkwardly to the side. "I appreciate it- I really do, but I think you might be... confused." He raised an eyebrow, emotion unchanging.
       "Confused?"
       "Yeah, like you said, I'm the only girl in a group of guys. I'm sorry if that's pushing a few of you off the rails, but-"
       "Wait, a few of us?" He asked, arms crossing. "Has someone else made a move on you?"
       "What does it matter?" He glared accusingly.
       "Oh my goodness, someone has! Who was it?"
       "I never said that! And- well, you saw Johnny, I-"
       "Oh, come on, Y/N, that's not what I'm talking about. Who else? Are you already dating someone?"
       "No!"
       "So you just decided it would be fun to string more than one of us along." He concluded.
       "I'm not stringing anyone along!"
       "Really? Because it looked like you were making out with me in that lobby, but now that we're here it's some big problem for you."
       "First of all, you started it!" She responded, getting more annoyed. "Excuse me if I'm hesitant, but I don't know you. I don't know any of you! And you don't know me!"
       "I literally have your name permanently inked into my side, but I appreciate the enthusiasm." He growled, also annoyed.
       "Look." She sighed, "I would do anything for you guys. You literally pulled me in off the streets, I probably owe you all my life, and you're all I have left. I'd never want to hurt any of you, for any reason. Which is why I have to say no right now. It's just not a good time, and I think you're really upset. That's fine, we all are, but I don't want to make it any worse for you. I just hope you can understand that."
       He looked to her, then the ground, then her again. Finally, he hung his head.
       "I get it. I... I'm sorry for putting you in a weird situation." Happy with this, she smiled, giving him a hug.
       "It's all good, as long as we're on the same page!" He pulled back, putting a hand to the back of his head sheepishly.
       "I guess I kinda made a fool of myself, huh?" Before she could answer, he waved a hand. "Come on, we oughta help pack up." With that, they started back towards the group. She went to go take care of her own tent, while he moved to help with Mark and the bins. It didn't take her long to pack up, as she had been too distraught lately to bother unpacking. Once she was done, she left to put her stuff in the van.
       On her way, she ran into Mark again. Remembering their return to camp, she waved to get his attention, apologetic that Taeil had dragged her off before.
       "Hey! Mark!" He looked up, but his expression wasn't displaying his usual cheer.
       "Oh, done with your meeting? Or were you guys just making out again?" This caught her off guard.
       "I- what are you talking about?"
       "Don't act like I'm stupid, Y/N, you're evidently hooking up with Taeil."
       "We're not hooking up! I just- he kissed me, and I-"
       "Wait, you actually were making out?" he asked incredulously. She couldn't tell if he was angry, or just disappointed. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to find a way to remedy the situation.
       "It's not that, Mark! It's complicated, I-"
       "Forget it, Y/N, I can literally see the rash on your lip." Eyes widening, she touched a finger lightly to her upper lip. Sure enough, there was the sting of recent friction. So much for keeping it a secret- it was actually written all over her face.
       "Look, Mark..."
       "No, no, it's fine. You can do whatever you want with whoever you want." Before he walked away, he muttered one last comment. "I just didn't take you for the easy type." At that, he walked away, grabbing one of the last boxes.
       "Hey! Y/N! Get in, we're almost ready to go!" Taeil called from the van. Mark tilted his head at her, as if to conclude his point. Why did Taeil have to have the worst timing? Still, she didn't really have a choice, so she walked over and hopped in.
       Trying to avoid any awkward interactions, she chose to sit next to Jungwoo. While she'd prefer to be closer to Taeyong, he was in shotgun as usual, and Jaehyun was always in the next row. At least she'd be far enough away from Taeil to make Mark comfortable.
       "Alright, since some of you weren't here earlier, I'll go over the plan again." Taeyong mentioned as they began to pull out. "We're going to go see Johnny before we keep headed towards the ocean. Hopefully he has some gas we can swing, and maybe he'll even want to go with us." Having Johnny inside the car and the camp was an idea that she would have to get used to. After all, considering their last interaction, she didn't know if she quite trusted him to leave her be while she was sleeping.
       "After that," Taeyong continued, "We'll move as quickly as we can to our escape plan. We'll have to camp periodically, both for fuel conservation and our healths' sake, but it shouldn't take more than a week. Sound good?" Everyone nodded, clearly tired for all of their own reasons. As Jungwoo was only taking up one seat in the row, she quietly asked him,
       "Do you mind if I lay down on the extra seats?" After confirming that he had no problem with it, Y/N fell asleep to the rumbling of the tires beneath her. She wasn't sure how long she slept for, but she woke up to total chaos.
       "How could you not calculate for this?!" She heard a rough, familiar voice shout. Jaehyun was angry about... something.
       "We couldn't get gas while we were out yesterday, it offset the plans!" Taeil said back. "Stop acting like this is something I could have helped!"
       "No! Because it is!"
       "Guys, calm down." Taeyong's voice quieted the both of them calmingly. "I'm sure we can figure something out." She rubbed her eyes, sitting up as he kept speaking. "Johnny's is less than a mile West. And the map says there's a city about ten miles Northeast. We'll walk to Johnny's to get more gas, and then we can fuel back up at the next stop."
       "Johnny may not have any gas..." Mark mentioned reluctantly. "He's kind of... random with what he sells." Judging by Taeyong's expression, he knew this was true.
       "Okay, so we split up." He offered. "Some of us go to Johnny's, the rest start walking towards the city. If Johnny has gas, we can pick the others up on the way, and if not, some of us will already be ahead in getting it. They can go into the city, grab a different car, and drive back." She had to admit it sounded pretty solid, but she refrained from giving her input.
       "Who goes where, though?" Doyoung asked from in front of her. She had almost forgotten he existed.
       "I'll go to the city, it's the harder run." Taeil offered. "And like Jaehyun said, this is kinda my fault." Jaehyun hummed with a bit of sick satisfaction.
       "Take Y/N too, then. The both of you can suffer." He muttered. Taeil looked concerned at this.
       "No, it's alright, I'll go alone." He said shortly.
       "Are you sure?" Taeyong asked, curious. "It's not safe to be on your own, Y/N can-"
       "Really!" He said loudly. Clearing his throat in the newfound silence, he elaborated. "Really, I'd rather go alone. I have plenty of grenades, and I'm honestly the best fighter out of all of us anyway." jaehyun looked as though he wanted to argue with this, but Taeyong shot him a look.
       "Alright, if you're sure... The rest of us can go to Johnny's- I don't really think there's a need to guard the van." And with that, their plan was set in motion. Something didn't feel right to Y/N as Taeil set off on his own, but she wasn't really in a position to complain. Plus, they had told her the walkie-talkies had a ten mile range, so she was comforted by the fact that she would most likely be able to contact him.
       Now, it was time to see Johnny for a third time...
Go to chapter 15
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effable-ineffability · 5 years ago
Note
Hey, if youre still doing prompts, are you down for some more smut? I really want that scene the phone sex fic hinted, where crowley was tied down and teased. Honestly I just want some kind of begging, smutty bondage, and you said you liked a challenge, so. Here ya go!
i don’t think you understand how excited i was to get this prompt because i very much wanted to write that scene that i hinted at in the phone sex fic, and now you’ve given me an actual excuse to, bless you
since this got v long (just over 5k, i got carried away, i just… i love these two, and i like writing smut, you really pushed all my buttons here), i’m posting the full thing over on ao3, but here is the first part!
[ while this preview is sfw, i think it goes without saying that the full fic is quite nsfw ]
worship in the bedroom
[ or read the entire fic on ao3 now ]
“Angel, please, at least think about it.”
“Oh— Crowley, it’s not that— really now, I don’t think that I— that is to say, I’m not quite sure—”
“I’m not going to force you into it,” Crowley assured him with a little laugh, leaning up to press a kiss to Aziraphale’s jaw, “but I’d put money on you enjoying it at least as much as me.”
Aziraphale gave a little huff, and held Crowley closer to avoid having to look him in the eye; Crowley snorted and nuzzled into his neck.  He knew his angel; he knew Aziraphale wasn’t strictly against the idea - he just needed time to think it over. And time was, after all, something they had the luxury of enjoying these days.
They were laying in bed on a Wednesday morning, content in cuddling in silence, until Crowley had squirmed a little and asked if he could suggest an activity for the evening.  Aziraphale had thought of rowdy bars, or long drives through the countryside, or even a quiet evening in[1]; so he was a little surprised when Crowley said, “I want you to tie me up and have your way with me,” as if he was suggesting they check out the latest action film.
[1] - Crowley’s ideas for an evening’s activities were all over the map.  Aziraphale was relatively confident in his abilities to guess what kind of mood the demon was in on any given day, but was also the first to admit that the learning process had never really ended.
They had been having sex for about a month now; it was something that they had both taken to very quickly, which had surprised them both, considering their mutual general apathy towards the activity when it came to humans.[2]  But there was certainly something different about sex when it was happening with someone who has known you since the Beginning.[3] Even so, their sex had been rather… vanilla thus far.  Neither of them would complain about that[4], but that didn’t stop either of them from thinking about more.
[2] - They had both had numerous - near countless - experiences across the wide array of orientations and partners.  Things tend to lose their excitement after a few centuries.
[3] - Needless to say, it was also made all that more exciting by the fact that at least one of them had also wanted this for millennia.
[4] - Indeed, Crowley was still mystified by the very idea that the angel actually wanted to touch him, let alone kiss him (and nevermind anything past that, his mind was still working on processing the first two); and Aziraphale was regularly caught gazing longingly at the demon before remembering that it was actually within the realm of options now to simply walk over and kiss him.  Six thousand years is quite the waiting period, and it would take many more months before they were able to adjust fully to everything encompassed by the idea of having each other.
“Have you been tied up before?” Aziraphale asked, rather suddenly, breaking the silence that had once again fallen between them.
Crowley leaned back so he could look up at the angel.  Aziraphale was looking the other way, and color had risen in his cheeks.  Crowley smiled. “Nope,” he answered. “I’m usually the one doing the tying up.  Always wanted to know what it was like, but.” He cut himself off abruptly.
“But?” Aziraphale prompted, looking back at him.
Crowley’s cheeks were darkening now as well; despite having been the one to embark on this conversation in the first place, it was clearly going in a direction he had neither anticipated nor wanted.  He dove back down to hide his face against Aziraphale’s skin again, and mumbled, “Never trusted anyone else. To do it properly, I mean.”
“To tie a few knots?” Aziraphale asked, bemused, as he stroked Crowley’s hair.
“No, not— I mean, the whole thing, the— it’s not just about the knots, it’s about the— words, and-and actions and— the whole thing.”
“Oh, yes, I see.”  Aziraphale did understand; Crowley scrunched closer against him, clearly embarrassed.  “And you… trust me to ah, do the thing properly,” he added, mostly just wanting to hear the confirmation.
“Shut up,” Crowley mumbled; Aziraphale heard the smile even without being able to see his face.  “Of course I do. Trust you with anything, angel.”
Aziraphale pressed a soft kiss to Crowley’s hair.  “Well then, I shan’t disappoint. Let’s get our day started, my dear.  I do think we’ll have a rather busy evening ahead of us.”
Crowley would not sit still for more than a few minutes in the shop.  Aziraphale was content to sit at his desk and read[5], getting up only occasionally to attend to a stray customer, or to refill his tea.  Crowley would bounce between the couch (sometimes sitting up, sometimes sprawled over it, once laying face down in the cushions for a full five minutes without saying a word), the shelves (half-heartedly glancing at, and sometimes rearranging, books for something to do with his hands), and the desk and angel (making offhand remarks about what to do for dinner, perhaps planting a firm kiss to some part of the angel’s face).  It was clear that Crowley was anxious, but the conversation they had had in bed that morning was resolutely staying across town in Crowley’s bedroom where they had left it[6].
[5] - Although a careful observer might note that his eyes did not seem to be moving at the right speed to be reading; Aziraphale’s mind was clearly otherwise occupied, despite appearances.
[6] - And where it would be revisited in a few hours; this is the thing that was making Crowley anxious.
“Lunch?” he asked Aziraphale around one, leaning over the back of his chair and putting his chin on the angel’s shoulder.  “I could get us a takeaway, if you want. Or we could close the shop for a bit, go somewhere. Or we could go upstairs and you could try out that new recipe you’ve been talking about.”
“Let’s go somewhere,” Aziraphale said, fairly decisively.  He turned to smile at Crowley. “Sushi?”
Every time they were this close, noses nearly touching, Crowley was struck with the same thought.  It was, admittedly, a fairly incoherent thought, but translated into cogent language, it went something like this:  “How is it possible that this gorgeous, stunning creature should want me?  What could I have possibly done to deserve this amazing gift of this angel who looks at me with such unqualified affection in his eyes?”[7]  And then, as he usually did, he remembered that he was allowed to do exactly what he had spent endless sleepless nights thinking about: he leaned forward and kissed Aziraphale.
[7] - For curious minds, the untranslated thought was more along the lines of, “nngk pretty angel blue eyes,” followed by indistinct whines of varying pitch and intensity.
“That’s a yes, I assume,” the angel murmured against his lips.
“Always a yes for you, angel.”
[continue reading on ao3]
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