#i can’t tell if it’s good or not cos i drew it VERY fast
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cant tell you how fast i grabbed my drawing tablet when i saw this picture 😭 my LAWD he looks so good
#i can’t tell if it’s good or not cos i drew it VERY fast#but i like it so far#ii sleep token#arvo’s art
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A new family — Chapter 6
— PAIRING: dark!Ominis Gaunt x F!MC
— SYNOPSIS: Ominis gets tired of his family and how miserable life is with them after he graduates. So he follows Sebastian's example for once, and kills them in cold blood. Now that he has the mansion to himself, he discovers he would still like to have a family, but one of his own making.
— WARNINGS: none, but Marvolo gets dealt with 🍵
— WORDCOUNT: 2.5k
— TAGLIST: @littletealight @skarathewitch @myrachondria @mrimperio @ssnapsaurus @tarotwitchy-main @hufflepuff-16 @shameless0shenanigans @imaslytherpuff
“I knew it, you little rodent,” sneered Marvolo. “Couldn’t wait for your inheritance, could you? What happened, ran out of pocket money to keep your classmate interested?”
Ominis stepped further into the drawing room and took his cloak off, casting it wandlessly into the hook of the coat hanger.
“It’s pointless to get upset about it. Our family fortune belongs to me now, whether you like it or not. Not by any particularly legal right, of course, but I claim it nevertheless. And, not that you’re interested, but I already graduated last summer. We both did.”
“You’re still a brat,” chuckled Marvolo. “Still look as if you’re sixteen, do you know that? No, you wouldn’t, would you… You were spared, I suppose, of ever having to be confronted by a mirror.”
“Indeed, I’ve been spared many things recently,” said Ominis, circling around. He did not have his wand out to guide him, and yet he seemed to know exactly where the other two were, keeping a steady distance between the three of them and drawing Marvolo’s attention away from her. “In fact, I’ve taken the liberty of sparing myself from some of them.”
“And I’ll take liberties with your hide,” he growled. “Where’s mother and father? What’ve you done to them?”
“You never never good at Legilimency, Marv, so stop trying. Don’t want to give yourself a headache.”
Marvolo’s lip twitched at the hated nickname, but he ignored it. “Could ask your little bitch, then,” he said, taking heavy steps toward her. “After I’m done with you, she and I can have a very revealing time together.”
Ominis took that quite impassively. Not a muscle on his face moved, stuck as it was in a mien of disgust. His hands were tucked behind his back, and she couldn’t tell if he had slipped his wand out by now from wherever he held it. She feared what would happen if his brother drew first.
“Your threats are so hollow,” she said to Marvolo, turning to distract him. “You couldn’t protect your parents, you can’t protect your fortune, and now your little brother is about to throw you out of your own home.”
“So you lied to me,” he said with a smile. “You batted your lashes and claimed you knew nothing, and all along you were as guilty as my baby brother. Co-conspirators, is that it? I didn’t think you had it in you…”
“You have no idea what I have in me, but you’re about to find out.”
He laughed, loosening his arms and posture in what she recognised as preparation for a duel. “Oh, I’ll relish what’s inside you, not to worry,” said Marvolo with a grin.
He was fast, drawing his wand out to cast Petrificus at her — and she was half-right, it was up his sleeve — but she was faster. She raised it out of her skirt pocket, blocked the curse, and aimed Expelliarmus at him before he cast anything else. His wand flew off behind him, knocking a crack into the glass cabinet. It left Marvolo clutching his wrist in pain.
“Ow, you little bitc—”
Distantly, she heard Ominis call her name, but she would not ruin this moment by listening to him.
She could tell Ominis had spent years refining his hatred into something he could live with, but she had not had the luxury. She hated Marvolo enough to kill — for his cruelty, for his arrogance, for his lack of shame at what he had become — although she would not take that privilege away from Ominis and take Marvolo’s life herself. She did not have long to think before he lunged at her or retrieved his wand, so she did the first thing that came to her mind.
“Relish this,” she growled. It was a complex spell, and she cast it quite instinctively, letting magic flow through her and do the work in her stead. With a wave of her wand, Marvolo clattered to the ground with a chime.
“Wh-what happened?” asked Ominis, stepping cautiously toward her. He did, in fact, have his wand out in his hand behind his back. Now, he scanned the surroundings, frowning in confusion. “Where’s Marvolo?”
“Exactly where he was a moment ago,” she said with a bright smile. “Only a little more… compact.”
“I heard a sound. Did he break something?”
She merely laughed and stepped forward to pick him up. When she returned to Ominis, she wrapped his hands around the object: it was a teakettle. Ominis frowned for one second, but then his brows shot up. He fought against a growing grin.
“He’s not dead,” she said. “I didn’t know if that was what you wanted. But… unless he can perform wandless magic, he’ll be in this state for quite a while. And I haven’t told you the best part yet.”
“There’s a better part?” laughed Ominis. His cheeks were blushing and his smile made his eyes shine. He seemed exhilarated from what just happened, and even somewhat… flattered, by what she’d done for him. “Tell me...”
“He matches the others.”
The kettle that used to be Marvolo was bone-white, just like the tea cups, and quite evenly round in shape reflecting his sturdy body. From around his middle and curling toward the top was a screaming skull veiled in grey shadow whose mouth cut off right at the split of the lid.
Ominis burst into laughter. He never would have thought that she would do something like this for him… He was ready to do it himself, to kill Marvolo in fact, which was why he kept his wand hidden until the last moment. But of course, she was faster. It was only natural, seeing as she was far more experienced in duelling than him — and, needless to say, more than Marvolo.
“This is certainly… the most impressive Christmas present I’ve ever received.”
“Oh, that’s not your present,” she said softly. “Consider it a cherry on top.”
“I can’t wait to see the real thing, then,” Ominis grinned, gently cupping her elbows. “But, first I… I want to apologise,” he said, his smile dying. “I didn’t defend you when he said those horrible things about you —”
“Oh Ominis, that’s alright…”
“I didn’t want him to think —”
“I understand…”
“Didn’t want him to know how much I care about you —”
“I know, I —” She paused mid-sentence.
“— how much you mean to me…”
Her breath caught in her throat, eyes growing wide at his confession. She understood before then that Ominis felt something for her, but to hear him say it in that way, so raw and vulnerable and unguarded, moved something inside of her that until then had been still.
“I… I care a great deal about you too,” she said.
“I understand that,” he chuckled. “Not many people would kill for me, I think.”
“Remember, he’s not dead yet. We should be cautious about him.”
“Where’s his wand?”
They went together to the back of the room and found it laying on the floor. Ominis picked it up while she placed Marvolo in the glass cabinet, arranging his family around him.
“There,” she smiled. “A full set.”
Ominis waved his wand toward them to see and smirked at the display. “They go well together, especially with you in the picture, smiling triumphantly.”
“You can tell when I’m smiling?” she asked with delight.
“Yes, your cheeks get a little fuller when you do.”
She chuckled and came beside him. “What do you want to do with the wand?”
“I want to break it in half,” he said. “But we should probably keep it.”
“Alright. Where?”
Ominis thought it through for a moment. “Perhaps it’s unwise, but…” He went and put it in the cabinet as well, not far from the teapot that was Marvolo. “If he can undo the spell on his own, wandlessly, then he deserves to get out. That and I delight in thinking it will be right there, tempting him all the while.”
She couldn’t help but grin. It certainly wasn’t wise, but she had to appreciate Ominis’ lust for danger. It seemed to be a new part of him, now that he was free of his family, and free to become himself…
She approached him from behind and hugged him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “So, when can I give you your proper gift?”
“When I shall give you mine,” he said, turning his face half-toward her. “At Christmas.”
“Are you certain?”
“Only way to make sure you stay that long,” he smiled.
She did, of course. She could not imagine leaving now. Ominis had been a bit rattled after everything, and on a couple of occasions late at night she thought she heard him scream, but generally he was happier, more lively, and even… confident. He no longer showed off about anything in particular, either good nor bad, and came and went by as the mood struck. Sometimes they spent their mornings and lunch and had afternoon tea together, and other times when he wanted to retreat somewhere, he did, and returned to her just as at ease.
The week between Marvolo’s transfiguration and Christmas passed in a powder white whirl of snow outside while the inside was garnished green and red. She and Ominis decorated the manor, perhaps for the first time, with holly and ivy and ribboned garlands that hung over the fireplace. They spent a whole morning making paper chains to throw about the place, and little paper angels to set upon the tables. They had the elves bring in a pine tree and placed it in the drawing room, and lost an evening just to decorate it with tinsel and candles. Apples and walnuts tied with string stood in for globes.
“Doesn’t compare to the Hogwarts one,” she said as they stood back to admire it. It was the 23rd of December.
“Doesn’t matter,” said Ominis with a smile. “It smells just like it.”
They had a modest Christmas dinner of roast goose caught from a flock on the Gaunt grounds, with mince pies of meat and fruits and spices, and ended it with the traditional pudding soaked in alcohol and set on fire before serving. They helped themselves to Firewhisky from his family’s stocks and served it while playing music boxes of Carols that they’d bought from a muggle music shop.
“You know, I don’t believe I’ve spent this day with fewer than four people, ever,” said Ominis. “But this is the least lonely Christmas I’ve ever had, with you here.”
A smile bloomed on her face before she even knew it, and her cheeks felt hot. “I… that’s… I don’t know what to say. But, I feel the same,” she whispered, laying his hand over his. They were sitting on the floor before the fire, with plates of treats and half-drunk glasses of Firewhisky all around.
“I hope it hasn’t been a disappointment to you…”
“Not at all!”
“We can visit Poppy tomorrow, and stop by Imelda and Everett’s too. Or, anyone else, really. We’re free to go wherever we like now.”
“I’d like that,” she grinned. “I’m not sure I have presents for all of them, but I could put something together tonight… I hear Poppy is quite fond of poacher-sized metal cages that shrink.”
Ominis chuckled and laid back on his stretched arms. “Speaking of presents…”
“Oh,” she giggled. “Yes, I’ve yet to give you yours…”
“Do you want to go first?”
“I… I do. Wait here.”
She got up and took the package from where it was hidden beneath a cushion on the sofa — an unnecessary act, as Ominis had known about it since they dealt with Marvolo, but it seemed appropriate to conceal it. It made the act of bringing it to him that much sweeter.
She kneeled beside him and shyly handed him a small, rectangular box wrapped in green paper with a big white bow attached.
“It isn’t much, but…”
“It doesn’t have to be,” he softly said. “I still believe your handling of Marvolo was the greater present.”
“Well then, this one can only disappoint,” she laughed. “But here, it’s yours anyway.”
Ominis took it, passed his hand across its every surface, and then carefully unwrapped it. The box inside had a grey velvet finish and opened to reveal a pair of gloves. Ominis ran his fingers over them and frowned in confusion.
“Put them on,” she said excitedly, leaning forward to not miss a thing.
He did, slipping them on one at a time and fastening them with the little gold buttons that were at the inner wrist. At first, he didn’t react at all, but when he placed one hand down on the floor to steady himself, his brows jumped.
“Oh!”
“Yes?” she grinned.
“I feel… Oh, this is strange,” he laughed, fighting a grimace. And yet he couldn’t take his hand from the floor. “We have this ugly thing?”
“What do you feel?”
“I can taste the colour of the carpet. It’s… stale and muddy, tastes the way dried moss smells.”
“Oh dear,” she laughed. “I wouldn’t say that, but…”
“Where did you find these?”
“From a special shop. You needn’t concern yourself,” she said smugly. “I’ve tried them on for a bit, and mostly agree with the gloves. They don’t capture grey very well though, I think. Some shades are sweeter than they taste.”
“Well, I… shall have to decide that for myself,” said Ominis. He was still and measured in his movements, but she could see how bright his smile was, how wide his eyes. His hands now felt all around him in wonder, from the carpet to his tie to the box the gloves came in.
“Do you like them?” she asked.
“I love them,” said Ominis, turning to her with a sweet and vulnerable smile. “Thank you.”
“I’m relieved… Thought you might not like the effect.”
“I shall have to be careful what I touch,” he confessed. “It’s like having a box of Every Flavour Beans that never ends.”
“Do you think we could each wear one and compare how we taste? I-I m-mean how things taste to us…”
“I’d love that,” he grinned, not missing a second. “Which reminds me, it’s time for your gift.”
Ominis pealed the gloves off and put them back inside their case. She expected him to get up and take her present from its hiding place. Instead, he merely reached into his pocket. He turned to her, took her hand, and in the other he held out a small, black satin box.
It was too small to contain anything other than…
“This is my Christmas present to you,” he said with a shy smile. His voice on the verge of trembling. He eased the box open with his thumb and index finger, and tightened his grasp on her hand. “If you would accept it, I mean…”
“Ominis, what —”
“The only thing I have to offer you is myself.”
#Ominis Gaunt#Marvolo Gaunt#hl#Ominis Gaunt fanfiction#ominis gaunt imagine#Hogwarts Legacy imagine#Ominis Gaunt x Reader#Ominis Gaunt x MC#Hogwarts Legacy MC#sswallow;made a thing#sswallow;fanfics#sswallow;a new family
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Something Old and Something New — Part Four
Mechanic!Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: When life takes a turn and you take an unexpected break from college in Stanford with your best friend Sam, you return home to your job at your family’s co-owned garage. You return home to work alongside the guy you thought you hated—Dean Winchester.
Word Count: 4.9k
Warnings: angst, swearing, guilt, arguing, light fluff
Your grip on the wheel was tight as you parked along the curb, the pressure behind your eyes having been near unbearable as your eyes glossed over with new tears. Tears of complete and utter frustration as your heart hammered in your chest. You put your car in park and got out, slamming the door behind you. Your footfalls were hurried and you paid no mind to the way you’d jammed your keys in the door, twisting the knob before pushing it open.
You drew a startled look from Sam who’d been sitting on the living room couch, textbook in his lap and his hand running through his hair. He sat up straighter, brows furrowed in an instant as he looked at you. Angry, frustrated you.
“Everything okay?” He asked, though he finds the question pointless the second it leaves his lips because it’s very clear what the answer is. “What happened?”
“Your brother’s an idiot, Sam,” you huff, lip quivering despite the anger in your words.
The crease between his brows deepens at your words, confusion in his expression as he thinks it over just what Dean could have done now. He knew his brother had a way of getting on your nerves, of pushing your buttons in a way Dean Winchester did—but he’s never seen you this upset from any of that, never seen you this worked up.
You saw the way he’d opened and closed his mouth a couple times over, trying to figure out just what to ask first, where to even start. But you spoke up before he did.
“I think,” you start, heaving a sigh as you settle your racing heart a little more, easing the anger in your tone for Sam’s sake. It wasn’t his fault after all. “I think I need to be alone for a little while.”
He nods then, gaze on you as he watches the emotions flicker across your face, exhaling a sigh of his own as he watches you turn on your heel and leave. You disappear around the corner and toss your keys on the kitchen table, headed straight for the door to the back porch.
You sat in your usual seat, tucked in the corner of the porch as cover yourself with the blanket you’d snagged on your way out the door. It’d been quiet out there, peaceful despite the noise in your mind, the events that happened not even half an hour earlier having been caught in your thoughts in a loop.
You thought it’d been obvious, with the way you’d grown closer to the older Winchester over the last few weeks. You found yourself realizing you hated him less than you thought you did for a long while, and maybe you didn’t hate him at all. It took coming back home to see that maybe there was something there between you for longer than the time you’d been back home.
You thought it was obvious, thought so the moment you realized things were different between you two.
But apparently it hadn’t been, not with the way jealousy had wrapped around his every feeling, the way anger had been a close second that day. Never mind the fact that he almost kissed you at Benny’s barbecue, or the way he seemed to enjoy your company.
He was too oblivious to see it the way you felt, too jealous to think rationally about it.
Meanwhile, Dean remained at the garage, simmering in his overflowing frustration. His mind was stuck on the words he’d spoken to you, taunting and woven with anger. He’d told you to go ahead and leave, he encouraged it even. He paid no mind to the hurt so clear in your eyes because he was jealous when he shouldn’t have been, so wound up in the overwhelming idea that he had feelings for you, true feelings that he’d gone and pushed you away.
The idea terrified him, to genuinely care for something, to enjoy their presence, to seek them out and to miss them when they’re gone. The thought of the feelings he had for you, vulnerable and fond, it scared the life out of him. So, he did what he always did and found a way to sabotage it.
He truly did feel as though you had fond feelings for his brother, there was no reason for you not to. But now, as he stands there by himself with his hands dragging down his face, standing with a mess of tools having been splayed and scattered across the concrete of the garage, he’s starting to think that maybe he was wrong.
He’d gone and let his temper get the very best of him, his mind running a mile a minute with thoughts all revolving around you. But he found they always did, they always did for a long while and he knows it.
He’d hovered over the idea of calling you at least a dozen times that night, deciding against it each and every time.
You don’t know just how much time had passed as you sat there on that porch, the sun dipping deeper and deeper into the horizon. The lightning bugs had flickered across the lawn, crickets chirping and filling the quiet in the evening air.
But soon they’d been accompanied by something else, by something more familiar as your heart skipped a beat.
You heard that engine, could tell just who it belonged to from a mile away. You heard it rumble and roar as it approached your apartment. Heard it continue to rattle lowly as it sat there for a minute or two. Your heart hammered as you sat in your chair, the inside of your cheek between your teeth.
He knew exactly where you’d be, knew you were on that porch without even seeing you. It was a place you always went to when you were stressed or upset, sitting in that chair for a good while until you felt better. Now it was him that was the cause and he hated it, he hated that feeling more than anything.
He sat there for another brief minute before you heard that rumble once more, before you heard that ever familiar roar as he pulled away and drove down your street. Your jaw tensed as you felt the tears burn and gloss over your eyes once more, a huff puffing out through your nose.
Instead, he’d gone back to the garage, gone back to clean up the mess he made despite the fact that he knew he should have cleaned up the mess he made with you.
You stayed out there in your usual seat, stayed until the sun had gone down completely and the drowsiness crept up. Stayed until fatigue weighed heavy on your eyelids until they fell closed, and stayed until Sam had come to check on you, finding you fast asleep in the chair. His shoulders slumped at the sight and a sigh left his lips, lips that purse for a moment at the sight of his best friend having looked so miserable.
He scooped you up, blanket and all, and put you to bed for the night before disappearing into his room.
You had one day left at the garage, one day before you left. The past week had been just as you’d imagined, the tension thicker than ever with each passing shift and it became harder and harder to bear.
You hadn’t spoken more than a handful of words to Dean, not more than that outside of work talk anyway. The tension set the tone for the entire garage—for Benny, for Bobby, for the customers who’d been lucky enough to come in when Dean was in close proximity to you.
There wasn’t much of any small talk, the days having gone by with just the noise of the radio and the occasional string of curses from Dean when something went wrong on a car. It drove you nearly crazy to be so close, close enough that it had your heart aching and your jaw tensing in an attempt not to cry, in an attempt not to shout at the older Winchester for breaking it.
You should have known better, you should have known better than to let yourself fall for him. He was stubborn as ever and there was no changing that but you knew it’d be a long while before you got over it.
It was a week full of lingering stares and long pauses as one tried to fill the silence with some sort of conversation before the other left with the excuse of having something else to do. It’d been a week of angry huffs and a week of Benny driving you crazy with the suggestion of talking to each other in a way that wasn’t so much of a struggle.
It was your last day of it, and you can’t decide if you’re relieved or dreadful, or both.
You sat in your chair at the front desk, head leaning on your hand as you rested your elbow on the counter. Nobody had said a word in the past hour and a half, the rest of your lunch having gone cold until you’d called it quits and dumped it in the trash.
Now, you were sat at your desk with your book cracked open, having very obviously been stuck on the same page for the last fifteen or twenty minutes because you were too busy thinking about green eyes over there. It was bad enough he knew you hadn’t actually been reading. He knew it because his gaze wandered over to you and lingered more than a few times in that span of time.
It almost got him in trouble, almost having him cut his palm with his inability to pay attention to the task at hand, grabbing the wrench he had clasped between his teeth and putting it to use as he tried to keep his mind on his work.
It was another few minutes until he spoke up.
“Would you mind giving me a hand over here?” You lifted your head from your palm, gaze shifting over to him as you narrowed your gaze slightly. He could sense your hesitation. “Benny and Bobby left and it’d be easier if I had an extra set of hands.”
You breathe out a huff after a moment and close your unread book, standing from your chair. When you stood just a mere foot away he held out his hand, the lug nuts to the last tire he had to rotate having been in it. You opened your hand with a sigh and he dropped them in your palm.
“You did the other three by yourself, why can’t you do this one?” You ask, brow raised and lips pursed.
He chuckles then, humorless as he shakes his head. “Like I said, easier with an extra set of hands.”
You roll your eyes and watch as he squats down, lifting the tire with ease as his jaw tenses under his weight. You give him the first one when he’s ready for it, and you try your hardest to ignore the way his hand brushes against yours. You try to ignore the way your skin feels like it’s been set on fire in the wake of his touch no matter how brief it’d been.
You turned your head and looked away for a moment as he worked, swallowing thickly as the radio did its best to ease the quiet tension.
He took it upon himself to grab the next one from your palm when he saw you hadn’t been paying attention, the tips of his fingers brushing against your skin. You straightened your stance and had the rest at the ready after that, desperate to avoid those moments of contact otherwise your heart just might burst with agony.
He grabs his impact drill from the workbench and tightens them in place, securing the tire once more. He spins the wheel for good measure, giving it a pat or two before he snags the rag from his pocket, swiping it across his forehead and the back of his neck and wiping away the sweat.
“Thank you, Y/n,” he says.
You notice the way his words falter for a moment, unaware that sweetheart was on the very tip of his tongue just ready to be spoken until he’d caught himself.
You simply nod and his jaw tenses when you walk away, his hand running through his hair before dragging down his face. You barely make it halfway to your desk before he’s speaking up.
“You want me to drive you home?” He calls after you.
He’d driven you this morning, something he offered when the battery to your own car had died. He’d stopped by to drop something off, something trivial and he knew it was stupid. He knew it was far-fetched but he found he just wanted to see you, even if he was being that stubborn idiot he knew himself to be right now.
But he gave you a ride this morning, a quiet drive filled with side glances to the other and the radio put on low, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he drove the two of you to work that morning.
You thought it over for a few fleeting moments, your gaze on your feet before it lifted to him. “Sam’s picking me up.”
You look away just as quickly as you walk behind your desk, stuffing your things in your bag as you grab your sweater from the back of your chair. You fail to see his nod and the way his jaw tenses, you fail to see the way he swallowed thickly as he bites the inside of his cheek. He’s angry at himself and he’s the one to blame for it, he knows that and that blame simmers in the forefront of his mind.
His gaze lingers on you as you sling your bag over your shoulder, pushing the door open and walking out. He looks at the space you once stood in, watching as the door closes behind you with a click.
You hadn’t been there for six days, nearly a week. It was your last day in Kansas and he knew it. He knew it and he wouldn’t let himself forget it no matter how hard he tried to. The very thought of you leaving had weighed heavy on his mind, heavier with each passing minute, hour, day.
He couldn’t let you leave, didn’t want to, but he doesn’t know if he can find the words to say.
It’s noticeable when you’re gone, more than obvious. The garage is dull and quiet, no matter how loud he played Zeppelin on that radio. It didn’t have your smile and it didn’t have your laugh to remind him to lighten up when a tough repair had him frustrated. It didn’t have the sound of your voice whether it’d been you throwing lighthearted jests and quips his way, or if it was when you answered the phone with that smile that makes him forget what he’s doing for a few fleeting moments.
There wasn’t the sound of your voice when you sang along to the songs on the radio under your breath as you sat with your feet up on your desk, your book in your lap when things were slow. Or the way you patched him up when he busted up his hands when he wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing because he was too distracted with you. The way you know your way around a car and make him look like a fool sometimes when he’s working on a repair he can’t quite figure out.
It’s far beyond noticeable that you’re not here, it’s always been noticeable when you’re gone and he can’t think of anything worse of a feeling than looking over to that front desk and finding it empty. Each and every time he looks over there it’s always the same and every time it has his jaw tensing.
He tries his hardest not to fall for anyone, not to get attached for this very reason. He feels like if it were anyone else it wouldn’t be half as bad, but you’re not just anyone. You’re so much more than that and damn does this hurt.
“Dean,” Benny calls out for the third time, his brows furrowed at him.
Dean looks to him from where he stands hovered over the hood of the car he’s working on, the crease between his brows returning. He clears his throat as he stands up straight, brushing his hands off.
“What’s up?”
“I’ve been callin’ your name for that past two minutes,” Benny says, brow raised in curiosity.
“Oh,” he says, nodding his head as a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth in hopes to stave off the brunette’s curious gaze, shrugging his shoulders. “Guess I didn’t hear you.”
He nodded, lips puckering in thought as he eyes the older Winchester with a squint.
“Guess not.” His gaze remained on Dean as he looked back at the task at hand, the one he hadn’t been paying attention to for that last who knows how long. “Darryl called. You got an inspection appointment tomorrow for his truck.”
“Great,” Dean says, tone indifferent and on the cusp of being distracted as he wipes down the bit of oil he spilled.
Benny’s lips pursed, his eyes lingering on Dean for a moment as he took in his expression. Dean could feel his stare, knew full well that Benny caught on to the way he was acting. To the way he was too distracted for his own good. It’s not like it wasn’t painfully obvious, he was sure that anyone in the world who looked at him could tell his mind was elsewhere.
Benny knew and that much was obvious, but Dean had been hoping he’d drop it, had been holding his breath in hopes that he’d leave it at that and move onto something else.
A wave of relief went through him when he’d seen Benny turn and walk away out of the corner of his eye, huffing out a quiet sigh through his nose. It was something that was short lived though, because after a few beats of silence he turned back on his heel with the words on the tip of his tongue, questions just ready to be asked.
“What’s going on with you?” He asked, Dean’s eyes closing as he leaned his hand on the edge of the front end.
He can’t say he didn’t see this coming, he saw it from a mile away. He dipped his head down a fraction as his tongue swiped over his lip, taking it between his teeth for a moment as he squeezed his eyes shut tighter.
“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Benny,” he says, turning his head to spare him a glance with pursed lips.
Benny tilted his head to the side and gave him a look, his arms crossing over his chest and Dean mirrored it. “It’s taken you an hour to finish a twenty minute job, Winchester. That ain’t like you.”
“Every car is different, it’s not gonna be a piece of cake every time. Stuff goes wrong sometimes,” he shrugs, irritation simmering in his tone.
“I know damn well that’s not the case.”
“Do you, Benny?” Deans asks, voice raising a fraction as he tosses his wrench on the workbench to his left.
He’s quiet for a moment then, heaving a sigh as he looks at the green eyed mechanic with a squinted look. He sees how touchy Dean is, how easy it is to get under his skin. He’s been like that the past week and a half, nearly two. He’s known him for a long time, knows him better than he thinks and he knows exactly what’s for him acting so differently.
He knows.
“It’s Y/n, isn’t it?” He asks, straight to the point and it has Dean stiffening, has him tensing at your name.
“What?” He asks, and his defensiveness is clear as day.
“Don’t play dumb with me, boy,” he starts, watching Dean’s jaw clench, watching the crease between his brows stiffen. “I saw you two that night, I saw you by the fire and it doesn’t take a genius to know that there’s something there. You can lie to me all you want and act like you don’t have a clue what I’m talking about but I know she’s on your mind.”
Dean rolls his eyes now, a humorless laugh leaving his lips as the anger bubbles in the pit of his stomach. He cares about Benny, he does, but right now all he’s doing is pushing his buttons in a way that’s fueling his frustration.
“You know what, Benny? You can go right ahead and think what you want, that’s fine by me. But it’s not really your business. You’re wrong,” Dean says, finger pointed at him before his hand drops to his side.
“She told me what happened, Dean.”
He freezes in his spot, jaw more tense than ever as he swallows thickly. His stare is narrowed on Benny, hard and angry as his fists clench and relax and he finds he has to look away otherwise he just might crack.
So he does. He turns away from him and runs a hand down his face, thoughts of you flashing through his mind as if they hadn’t done so all day every day for the past who knows how long. He doesn’t need that lecture right now, doesn’t need to be told of the colossal mistake he knows he’s made because it’ll only light the fuse and make everything worse. It’ll only deepen the anger and regret he’s got searing within him till he bursts.
“You miss her, don’t you?” He asks, voice quieter than before.
Dean laughs again to himself, quiet and bitter as his hands stay planted on the workbench. He swallows as the question taunts him, replaying in his mind in a loop. He misses you more than anything, hell, he missed you since the moment you walked out that door that day.
But he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t say a single word as he turns in his heel, laying down the stand to the car’s hood before letting it fall closed with a slam. He can hear Benny’s chuckle, one in response to just how stupid he’s being, to just how stubborn he really is. He can’t say he’s surprised, he’s been this strong willed and stubborn for as long as he can remember. It’s ridiculous and he knows it, and he’d be stupid not to give it one more try.
He eyes the older Winchester with a narrowed glance, a sigh leaving his lips as he watches him busy himself with work that didn’t need to be done.
His gaze lingers for a moment, lips pursed and brows furrowed. Benny moves to turn away, even takes a step or two away from him before he turns back around.
“Dean?”
He turns his head, avoiding Benny’s gaze as he waits for him to talk.
“What you do is your choice, you know that. But I suggest you stop bein’ so damn stubborn and realize what you’ve got before it’s gone. Do me a favor and quit bein’ an idiot.”
With that he walks away, leaving Dean to stand by himself. That anger is still very much there, that frustration stronger than ever as the regret eats away at him. He’s got the urge to sweep all those tools on the floor once more, his chest tight as he jaw tenses. And that glance over to the clock on the wall didn’t make it a single bit better.
“Son of a bitch,” he murmurs through gritted teeth, crossing the garage with quick steps as he snags his keys.
You sigh as you look around your room, scratching the back of your neck as you try and see if you’ve got anything else to add to your bags, to see if you’re missing anything. A part of you is stalling, you know you are. You don’t want to leave home and you don’t think going back to Stanford is in your best interest, not really.
Half of your decision is fueled by your spite towards the older Winchester, to leave just because you said you would. The other half is filled with indecision, filled with the worry that you might regret not finishing your degree. You felt like you owed yourself that much, you did. But you felt that dread in the pit of your stomach at the thought of putting yourself through another year of it, another year of something you didn’t have your heart set on and you knew you couldn’t do that.
It was another conversation to have with Sam, another decision you’d have to make that had your stomach knotting with nerves. Something that’d been the last thing you wanted to do, the last thing you wanted to think about.
But you couldn’t put it off, couldn’t do that forever.
You spun on your heel after giving your room another once over with a sigh, knowing full well there wasn’t anything more you needed for Stanford that wasn’t already over there. Nothing more that you needed other than the clothes and belongings you brought with you when you came home all those weeks ago.
You paced through the hall and down the stairs, your last duffel bag in your hand as you make your way to the living room. All of your bags and suitcases had been stacked by the front door, packed and ready to go as Sam’s had sat there with them.
You swallowed thickly at the sight of them, biting the inside of your cheek in a nervous habit. It only made things all the more real, only solidified the idea that you were leaving again for another few months until you’d come back to visit. Only solidified the thought of going back to law school for one more year.
You exhaled a shaky side as you shook out your hands, pacing around the living room. Sam was gone to say his goodbyes to everyone, something you’d already done the night before. He was gone and he’d be back any minute with Bobby. Then you’d go to the airport and get dropped off together and go back. You’d go back to your second home that just didn’t feel quite so good as this one.
The thought had your nerves swirling in your stomach, twisting and churning as you ran your hands down your face. You were twenty-four still acting like you were eighteen, acting like quitting law school would be the worst thing in the world. You knew there was no rush, no timeline, but the stress of it all was weighing heavy.
The thought of leaving home again, leaving everything for a little while, the thought of the older Winchester was weighing heavier on your mind.
You quit your pacing and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard. You filled it with water and drank it down, your teeth sinking into your lip as you closed your eyes for a brief moment.
The ring of the doorbell had your heart jumping in your chest, had it hammering once more. It was time to go and you knew it, there was no more stalling, no more thinking it over. No more putting it off because it was happening now. You were going back for a little while and this was it.
You exhaled a shaky breath as you put your empty glass in the sink, making your way to the door as a couple knocks sounded. Your gaze lingered on your bags by the door for a moment longer, a moment longer before you had to put them in the back of Bobby’s car.
After a beat of hesitation, you twisted the door knob, swinging it open. Your breath hitched in your throat, mouth going dry as your gaze falls on him, his stare moving up from his boots as you meet those green eyes you’d get to stop thinking about. You swallow thickly as your heart flips once more, lips parting.
His expression is hard to read as he stands there with a look to mirror yours, his tongue swiping over his lips in a nervous habit. He reaches up to scratch the back of his neck before his hand falls back down to his side. You glance around him to the Impala parked haphazardly and crooked along the curb, a rushed attempt at parking. And then your eyes flicker back to him, back to the Winchester who’s mouth had been opening and closing a couple times in an attempt to figure out just what he wanted to say.
You were ready to go, as ready as you’ll ever be—and now your plans were put in a tailspin as your mind and your heart spiraled in a frenzy as Dean Winchester stood in front of you once more.
—
Series Taglist: @myloversgone @colereads @stoneyggirl2 @samsgirl93 @poptart06294
General Taglist: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @campingmonkey @deandaydreaming @lanea-1 @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @taikawho
#dean winchester#dean winchester series#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x you#dean winchester angst#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester oneshot#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester fic
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Missing Links: A New Hyrule
This story has a prequel called Secrets in the Breeze! Go check it out!
My Missing Links
Wind took a deep breath, savoring the scent of the breeze as blew by. It had been awhile since he'd smelled salt in the air.
It was good to be back near the ocean.
One by one, the other heroes came through the portal, which shut behind them with a blue flash. Hyrule looked at Wind curiously. "Do...you recognize this place?"
"Nope!" Wind spun around with a bright smile. "But we’re near the sea! That’s always a good sign!”
“I beg to differ,” Legend muttered, taking note of his surroundings.
It wasn’t much. They stood atop a cliff that overlooked the sea-bordering countryside, with a sparse collection of villages tucked into the nooks of the nation. But what caught the pink-haired hero’s attention most was the network of golden roads that stretched across the land, leading towards a grand tower far inland.
In the shadow of the massive building stood a castle; one the young man immediately recognized, which threw the whole tower into proportion.
It was...big.
“So, here’s the plan.”
The redheaded man slapped a map against a tree, stabbing it through with his hairpin to keep it in place. He snapped his fingers, and the circuits of his prosthetic hand lit up in timeshift blue. “We came in here,” he said, drawing a glowing X over a place in the north of the Forest Realm. “The loser that stole my control slate ran off, and we got lost chasing him. So now we’re down here.” He circled Whittleton Village.
Fox watched the hero explain with wide eyes, fixated on his glowing fingertips.
“The guy could be anywhere,” he continued. “HOWEVER, if he knows how to calibrate it right, he probably has a map updated on the slate. And if he knows what the slate does, which he has to in order to pull a stunt like he did twice in a row, then he’d head for Hyrule Castle.” Taps drew an arrow towards the castle and tower in the distance. “We’ve already lost a day just getting out of Lost Woods. He’s probably way ahead of us if we travel on foot. But if we use one of the minecart guardians people drive around here...” He traced his finger along the minecart tracks that stretched across the land. “We can probably beat him there, as long as we catch one within the next couple hours.”
He spun to face his companion, clicking the drawing rune off. “Any questions?
Fox’s hand shot in the air. “Mr. Link? How does your arm work?”
Taps gave him a flat look. “Timeshift-powered output core.” He gave his prosthetic a solid pat. “Sheikah tech. Not what we were talking about. Any relevant questions?”
“...Well...” Fox rubbed the back of his head. “The...guardian things...they take passengers, right?” He looked at the hero with big eyes. “So, don’t they charge rupees?”
Taps paused. He hadn’t considered that. “...We can stow away.”
“Absolutely not.” The Hytopian put his hands on his hips sternly. “These people have lives to live outside of us. It’s wrong to steal labor from them.”
“They’re not GONNA have lives to live if this timeline gets screwed with by my slate!”
“Then we should get money fast, shouldn’t we?”
Taps’ eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms. “I didn’t exactly bring my wallet with me when I got yanked through time and space. You plan on selling your extra clothes for it?”
Fox gasped in horror, hugging his bulky luggage. “Never!”
“Well then. Not that big a problem, is it?”
Fox bit his lip. “...Give me one hour,” he finally said. “If I can’t earn us enough rupees for a trip by then, then we can talk about stowing away.”
Taps rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He held up a metal finger. “You’ve got one hour.”
Legend walked along the strange track, examining the golden triangles beneath his feet as he followed the rails. The power in them tugged at his attention, no matter how hard he tried to look away.
What were they?
“Hey.” An elbow dug into his shoulder. “Hyrule to Link, are you there?”
Legend side-eyed the offender crossly. “No.”
“Well then,” Warriors replied, smirking. “I guess that means I get your share of lunch.”
“You touch my apple pie and you find out exactly what my medallions do.”
“Ouch. Touchy.” He followed Legend’s line of sight down to the ground. “Must be an interesting road.”
Legend nodded, looking back at the tracks. “They’re...powerful,” he said, gesturing to them. “They radiate magic, and they feel...Hylian. Like they’re alive.”
Twilight shuddered. “I certainly hope they’re not,” he said, giving Epona a pat. “The last thing I want to worry about is living roads.”
WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
The Chain jumped in unison at the loud sound, attention forcefully torn from the Spirit Tracks at their feet.
Off in the distance, blurred by a shimmer of heat, a steam-powered machine charged down the tracks at breakneck speed. With a frown, Twilight whipped out his Hawkeye mask to get a better look.
It was HUGE; it had to be at least as tall as three horses standing on top of each other. As it rounded the bend and headed towards them, he got a good look at its segments—a house, a tray, and a cannon?
Twilight squinted, adjusting the mask’s scope. “What in Farore’s name...”
“What is it?” Time asked, raising an eyebrow.
“...Some kind of mechanical caravan.” Twilight concluded after a moment of thought, lowering the mask. “And it’s not stopping. We should move.”
WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
“NOW.”
Quickly, the group got off the tracks, giving them a WIDE distance.
As the steam-powered beast approached, it let out a shrill, screeching noise, causing the heroes to clamp their hands over their ears in pain until it finally rolled to a stop with a pressurized hiss.
Time slowly lowered his hands, shaking off an involuntary shiver at the redead-esque noise. “Everyone alright?”
Hyrule groaned, rubbing his ears sorely. “I think I finally feel bad for DIgdogger...”
“We’re fine,” Four answered. “I’m going to have a headache for the next week and a half, though...”
“Tell me about it...what even WAS that?” Wind asked, scrunching up his eyes as he popped the pressure in his ears.
“‘Hoy!”
The seafarer suddenly snapped to attention at the familiar greeting.
“’Hoy!”
Link leaned out of the engine cab and waved to the band of...soldiers.
They had to be soldiers, right? They had swords and armor. Maybe there was a ceremony or something coming up.
One of the group, a young-looking boy in blue, waved back to him. “‘Hoy, stranger!”
“Everything alright?” Link called. “You look kind of...lost.”
The group looked between each other. “We kind of are,” another one said, a heavily-scarred one with a long ponytail. “Can you tell us where we are?”
“Just west of Whittleton. Where are you trying to go?”
“Hyrule Castle town,” the most heavily armored one replied. “Is it far from here?”
Link looked the group over critically. “...Not really. It’s a 20 minute ride by train. Can I ask who you guys are?”
“An orchestra!” The kid that had initially greeted him exclaimed.
“...An orchestra.”
“Yep!” He pulled out his baton. “See, I’m a conductor, and he’s got a harp, and he’s got an ocarina...”
“What are you playing, then?” Link said, raising an eyebrow.
“Uh-”
“Song of the Hero,” the friendly-looking one in the white cape supplied. “It’s a classic.”
“...Right.” Link held back a sigh, feeling like this was going to be trouble. He could just leave them...
...But this was Bulblin territory. He’d feel bad.
He could just tell the guard captain to be on the lookout once he got to Hyrule Castle. That’d keep them in line, right?
“...Do you guys want a lift?”
The train ride was such a change from walking everywhere. Granted, it had been difficult to convince Epona to climb into the passenger car with them, and Legend was sharing a VERY uncomfortable stare with a fluffle of rabbits gathered at his feet. But, for the vast majority of the heroes, it was a chance to rest their legs and watch the scenery fly by.
And it was incredible.
The only comparable thing Wind had seen in his travels was speeding around on Linebeck’s steamboat, and even that required him to be focused on not running into barrels and sandbars.
This, though? It was smooth. The train ran in a straight line, zooming by acres and acres of land without so much as a bump in the wrong direction, with endless ocean through one side of the car and towering mountains through the other. Thinking fast, he pulled out his pictobox and snapped a few shots as he went along.
When the train made its first stop, the screeching sound was notably more bearable through the barriers of the cabin walls. It still made Hyrule wince, but it was a far cry from the veritable scream they’d had to endure before.
As it finally came to a full stop, the engineer that’d picked them up peered into the cabin. “Nobody get up yet, we’re not here. I’m just picking up some more passengers.”
Time raised an eyebrow. “You do this kind of thing often?”
The stranger gave him a deadpan look. “Nope. Never in my life.” Without another word of explanation, he shut the door.
Time stared after him, taken aback.
Had he just....been sassed?
A moment later, the back door of the cabin opened, and two new passengers entered.
“I told you I could pay fare!”
“Yeah, yeah. Still think we could have saved money.”
They sat in the back seat, bickering quietly and, to Legend’s relief, attracting the fluffle away from him. As the train resumed its travel down the road, he found himself listening in to their conversation.
“-plan once we get there?”
“We start looking. Duh.”
“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”
“Look, if someone uses it, we’ll know. It’s not exactly an easy thing to- ...hide.”
Curious at what had made the newcomer trail off, Legend looked back at them over his shoulder.
The redhead—the one who had ended the conversation—was staring at Wild in shock.
The pink-haired one, on the other hand, Legend recognized instantly. His head spun; the Chain had only just gotten the means to time travel themselves, how had the Hytopian guy with the friendship tokens-?!
Feeling Legend’s gaze on him, Fox looked up, unnerved, then froze in shock as he came to the same conclusion Legend did.
I know you. You shouldn’t BE here.
Suddenly, the train heaved, throwing everyone out of their seats. The once-smooth ride came to an abrupt halt as the train derailed, skidding across the raw ground with a terrifying SCREECH before grinding to a halt and tilting precariously. Twilight and Wild both scrambled to grab Epona and brace her as the car finally tipped, landing on its side with a crash.
Silence hung in the air for one brief, panic-laced second.
Then, in an instant, the redheaded stranger shoved his companion out the back door and vaulted over the cabin seats, barreling into Wild and leaping for the front door. As Wild was abruptly yanked out of his daze, he spotted the Sheikah Slate in the thief’s hand before the redhead made his escape.
Fox stared at Taps as he ran outside. “What are you doing?!”
“Shut up, I’m focusing!” Taps said, frantically clicking through the slate. “Where is it, this layout is atrocious-”
“Did you just steal the-”
“He had my control slate!”
“They had SWORDS!”
“So do we!” Taps stopped on a screen, and sighed in relief. “Finally!” With a blue flash, he summoned his Divine Beast, wasting no time in clambering on board. “Come on, get on!”
“But my clothes-”
“HEY!”
The two time travelers looked over as Wild emerged from the train car to shame mankind, eyes blazing with fury as he raced towards them.
Fox squeaked in alarm, quickly leaping onto the Divine Beast and clinging to Taps. “Drive, DRIVE!”
Wild did his best to give chase as the duo sped off, but his mortal Hylian legs couldn’t keep up with the ingenuity of Sheikah technology. Before his very eyes, two complete strangers fled into the distance with his Divine Beast.
Link picked himself up off the ground, clutching his ribs in pain as he raced back towards his toppled train.
He had so many people on board, he had a horse back there. If any of them were hurt—
Without a moment’s thought for himself, he threw the cabin door open. “Is everyone okay?!”
Everyone jolted, reaching for their weapons in panic, when suddenly, there was a yelp of pain from the back seat.
Sky clutched his stung hand as he dropped the Master Sword, staring at the engineer in shock.
“You’re...one of us.”
#i. am not revising this any more.#i'm aware that it's not my best work but this was difficult.#AAAAAAAAAAAA#anyways. enjoy#missing links chapter 1!#for those unaware#taps is the hero from the botw tapestry#fox is the faux hero from triforce heroes#and the engineer...yeah. spirit tracks#loz#zelda#spirit tracks#missing links is FINALLY#FINALLY UP#botw#linked universe#i need to practice more#the chain gets robbed#fanfiction
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cold, cold, cold
pairing: timeskip!tsukki x gn!reader
summary: there’s a little too much tension between you and your annoying co-worker at the museum after hours
warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, semi-public (no one sees), light degradation (very soft imo), quickie
a/n: psa do not fuck in a museum.. as someone who has worked in multiple museums i feel need to say this,, also yes, ‘sherd’ is a word
Tsukishima was always around. Not that it was difficult working at a relatively small place. Something about him bothered you, but you couldn’t really figure it out. Maybe it was how he always seemed to sneer at you, or how he commented on your taste in music any time he stuck his head in your office, or how he never seemed to be in a truly pleasant mood.
At first, you had even thought he was kind of cute albeit a bit awkward. Then you realized he was just selective and a bit haughty. You couldn’t help but think it had to be a front. He was never outright mean to you, although he certainly didn’t stop himself from criticizing you. Much to your dismay, his criticism were generally valid.
You tried to ignore your own mixed emotions and confusion as you sat in the back of the frigid storage room gently dry brushing a sherd of Hagi ware from some long forgotten collection that had been neglected.
“Oh, you’re still here.” His deadpan voice struck some fiery chord in your heart, but you simply glanced up. “Everyone else left.”
“Yeah, I got caught up cleaning these.” You groan as you stretch back in your seat, bones creaking from having been hunched over for so long. “Why are you still here?”
He rolled his eyes as he adjusted the stack of papers and bag in his hands and sauntered toward you.
“An interesting song choice. You shouldn’t listen to music while you work, you know.”
You groaned quietly at his condescending attitude as you began shuffling the small piece back into its bag with its museum tag and a little info-note you had written for reference. He set his bag and papers on the table with a small thud.
“I’m allowed to listen to music. Besides, you do it all the time.”
“You’re allowed, but you shouldn’t listen to such bad music.” He chuckled, snatching your phone of the edge of the work table before you could react. As fast as you could, you jogged over to the sink to give your dust stained hands a quick rinse. With an overly contented sigh, he pressed the pause button. “Isn’t that better?”
You expectantly held out your hand. “Tsukishima.” You said sharply.
He cocked an eyebrow, but your angry expression only seemed to egg him on. With a wicked grin he held the phone up beside his head.
“What?” He asked innocently.
“Tsukishima,” you urged, “we’re not playing this game.” This was embarrassing, but you couldn’t figure out for you or him. “We’re not ten, just give me it back.”
“If you agree to listen to better music.”
You wanted so badly to wipe the stupid smirk off his face, but deep inside you felt there was something a little alluring about it. Even if this situation was laughable at best. Sighing dramatically, you reached up for your phone. “Depends on what you think is ‘better’ music.” Standing up and straining your arm, you didn’t even notice how close you had gotten or how close your foot was too a loose power cord on the ground.
He hadn’t been entirely steady in his stance, so when you came crashing into him, he went down hard into the cool concrete floor taking you with him. His hand that wasn’t clutching your sleeve was still miraculously clutching your phone. You wrapped your legs under his to trap him and clawed for your phone.
“Stop, this is ridiculous!” You whined, tugging against his iron grip.
“You pushed me over. You never look where you’re going.” He quipped back.
“I only ran into you that one time because you’re so freakishly tall!”
“You ran into me twice! Apparently you can’t count either.”
“Who cares?!”
“The curator should. If you can’t count to two, how can you count artifacts?”
“What are you even... just shut up, you’re always so-!”
The grip his fingers had slipped up a little and your ass flew back into his hips. Hard. When you shifted a little in an attempt to free your limbs from him, you felt it. His long cocking pressing sharply into your thigh.
You gasp and flinch just enough that he notices. His eyes widen and his mouth gapes open as he goes to apologize, desperately trying to get out from under you.
“This is what does it for you?” Your whisper is half full of wonder and half full of disgust. And he loves it.
“N-no, you were just moving around so much. That doesn’t mean...” A deep blush lit up his cheeks as he attempted to sputter out some coherent set of words.
You held back a chuckle as you sat back and stood. When you stuck out a hand for him to lift himself, he graciously took it, not meeting your eyes.
“I’m just messing with you.” He doesn’t trust the smile on your face though. “But if you wanted to fuck me you should’ve just asked instead of acting like an insolent child.”
Your hand tightened around his, keeping him locked close to you.
“I was not acting like an insolent child.” He mumbled, though he made no attempt to move back from you. The look splayed across your face was far from joking.
You didn’t know what you were doing. The phone thing had been annoying and embarrassing, but when you felt him harden up under you just from a little struggling and mean words it was like a switch flipped. You finally realized why you were so frustrated with him.
“That sounds like something an insolent child would say.” You breathe, maneuvering your fingers around so they were intertwined with his. His soft, shocked expression morphed as he made up his own mind about the situation.
“You want to fuck me so bad.” He chuckled, an overpowering look gracing his features.
You set your phone on the counter behind you and rolled your eyes.
“You can’t stand to not be in charge, can you?” You took his other, very pliant, hand into your own.
“I don’t care about being in charge when I know I’m right.” He said lowly, leaning into you.
“Mhmm,” you humored him, leaning in as well.
Before you could blink, a sloppy clacking of teeth and tongues knocked you back. Tsukishima grabbed your cheeks roughly. You clutched around his slender waist and pulled him into you. His hard cock strained against your front.
Normally so put together, his actions were so hurriedly messy now that he had you in his arms. Despite the fact that you didn't seem to get his humor or appreciate his critiques, he had found himself drawn to you from the day he saw you.
You brushed your fingers up his figure and into his light curls. The rugged tugs on his scalp make him moan into your mouth. His vibrations filled you with a sweet warmth, making you press even closer to him.
Finally, you tore him away by the back of his head. Panting unevenly, you struggled to get the words out. "Want you to fuck me." You breathed hotly into his ear.
"Here?" His condescending tone was marred by his shaking breath. "What a slutty thing to beg for."
"I-I'm not begging for anything." You growled, palming him roughly through his pants.
"So you don't want my cock, then?" His hands grabbed your ass and pushed you back just a few centimeters. "Is that why you look so desperate?"
"You're pretty cocky for someone who got hard over a little tug-of-war." You didn't move your eyes away from his as you unhooked his belt and unbuttoned his pants.
"I wish you would talk less." He groaned and tore himself away from you.
"Excuse me?" You were slumped against the empty counter behind you, incredulous as he rooted through his bag.
"Shut up," his eye roll was almost audible when he stood back and up and turned to you again. He held a little foil package in one hand, smirking. "Turn around and bend over."
The small urge you had to argue was strong, but the sight of his long cock weeping through his powder blue briefs was enough to make you easily comply. Swallowing the thick lump in your throat you clutched onto the edge of the freezing counter.
"Good." He hummed as he came up behind you. His fingers worked around your front to unbutton and rip your pants down. You craned your neck over your shoulder as he carefully opened the condom package and eased it over his long cock.
Shuddering, you relaxed toward the counter. His foot kicked between yours, spreading your legs wider. He watched with pure bliss as your hungry little hole clenched around nothing.
"Just fuck me already." You whined. Not being able to see him or what he was doing was creating a delightful mix of nervousness and excitement in the pit of your stomach.
"Well, I can't say no when you beg like that." He cooed into your ear. As you jumped back in surprise, he quickly slipped his thick cock head just past your entrance. You yelped at the sudden intrusion and tried your best to relax. "Sure you can take me?" He said lowly as he massaged your sides.
You scoffed. "Don't be so full of yourself."
"Alright then..."
In one smooth movement he bottomed out inside of you. As you screamed in both pleasure and dull pain, he clamped a hand over your mouth.
"You take me pretty well and I haven't even really touched you."
You muttered some agreement into his palm. Moving his hand away, he soothingly kneaded his fingers into your lower back, urging you to relax around him.
"Tell me when you can really take me."
"Please," you whined quietly, "move, please..."
He wanted to tell you to speak up, fluster you more than you already were, tease you until you couldn't form a sentence. But here and now wasn't the time or place. So instead, he started moving just as you had pleaded.
You cried out, desperately trying to quiet yourself although there was no one else there except the two of you, as he plunged in and out of your pulsing hole. Even though his strokes were fast and hard you could feel every inch, every vein and ridge. His little moans and gasps drew you closer and closer to the edge, but it wasn't enough.
With your hands trapped between your chest and the counter, you couldn't even move them to relieve yourself. Lost in your own pleasure, you barely noticed how your hips pushed back to meet his as he pounded into you.
"You're so good, please, fuck..." You babbled on.
Your little praises sent him over the edge. With your sweet encouraging, he sloppily thrusted into you, fingers digging deep bruises into your hips as he finally emptied himself into you. The syrupy pitched moan that left his throat made you shiver under him.
He slumped over you for a minute, holding you close. Finally, he pulled away, carefully pulling the condom off and neatly tying it up before tossing it into a nearby trash bin. With unsteady legs you pulled yourself and your pants up. By the time you turned around he already looked completely put back together as if he hadn't been mercilessly pounding into you a minute ago.
Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you didn't quite meet his eyes. "I didn't-"
"Come home with me."
"What?"
"I know you didn't cum, so if you want to you can come home with me and we can finish."
You couldn't help but smile at the blush that graced his cheeks. Trying your best to walk confidently on unsteady feet, you strode up to him and gave him a small kiss on the side of his lips.
"Let's go then."
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Harmione Essay: Physical contact — a changing pattern (by Turambar)
Hello! This is an essay written many years ago, before the release of HBP&DH. It doesn't belong to me so credits to the original writer(Turambar)! It was written on the CoS forum, I'm not sure if it's still saved there but I have a word document with all of the essays. Anyways, this essay has no ship/character bashing. Again, this essay isn't written by me. Enjoy!
The evolution of this pattern of physical contact between Harry and Hermione is very interesting.
PS to POA:
1) If we look at the very scene where the trio become friends, a curious aspect of this pattern rears its head: Harry is physically decisive, Harry and Hermione have physical contact in a time of crisis and Ron is to one side looking on. "Harry yelled at Hermione, trying to pull her towards the door."
2) At the end of the book she initiates the hug and he feels very embarrassed since displays of physical affection are totally foreign to him. "Hermione's lip trembled and she suddenly dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him. 'Hermione!' 'Harry - you're a great wizard you know.' 'I'm not as good as you,' said Harry, very embarrassed as she let go of him." Then there's the nice moment in the hospital wing when he realizes she wants to hug him again but is glad she holds herself in because his head's hurting.
3) In POA, having previously seen Harry jump on a troll for her and wrestle Millicent Bulstrode off her - both while Ron is present - Hermione turns to Harry for emotional support through a physical gesture, grabbing his arm when the trio see that the Fat Lady has been slashed (by Sirius). "Harry, Ron and Hermione moved closer to see what the trouble was. 'Oh my -' Hermione exclaimed and grabbed Harry's arm." Again Ron is present but Hermione turns to Harry.
4) The Shrieking Shack/Time Turner scenes, when they are nearer their 14th birthdays than their 13th ones, are where the pattern accelerates and becomes noticeable.
It is mostly Hermione initiating contact. Harry is accepting of this contact and only indicates she should let go of his arm at one point when her grip causes him to lose feeling in his fingers.
Shrieking Shack:
"She now grasped Harry's arm painfully hard"
"Hermione suddenly grabbed Harry's arm again."
"Hermione's grip on Harry's arm was so tight he was losing feeling in his fingers. He raised his eyebrows at her; she nodded and let go."
Time Turner:
"In here!' Hermione seized Harry's arm and dragged him across the hall to the door of a broom cupboard, she opened it and pushed him inside."
"Hermione nudged him and pointed towards the castle."
"Hermione was holding Harry very tightly around the waist."
"Peeves!" Harry muttered, grabbing Hermione's wrist. "In here."
5) So to summarize:
a) Up to this point, apart from a couple of occasions where Harry has grabbed Hermione, the contact between them has been initiated by Hermione.
b) It has occurred at times of crisis/stress and generally involved Hermione seeking support, reassurance and protection from Harry.
c) Apart from the hug and flying on Buckbeak it has involved arm contact.
d) Despite embarrassment over the hug - understandable since it's presumably his first since he was a baby - Harry is still mature enough to pay a compliment - 'I'm not as good as you'. But he's comfortable with the contact, he doesn't question it and his indication to Hermione to release his arm is not a rejection of her: she has no qualms about grabbing him again.
GOF:
6) Here we see a change in the pattern to Hermione initiating contact in moments of fun/joy/excitement/relief.
Veela:
"She reached up and pulled Harry back into his seat."
"Hermione was soon tugging on Harry's arm. He turned to look at her, and she pulled his fingers impatiently out of his ears. 'Look at the referee!' she said giggling."
First task:
"Then before either of them could stop her, she had given both of them a hug."
Dobby:
"Harry!' she panted, skidding to a halt beside him (the Fat Lady stared down at her, eyebrows raised). She seized Harry's arm and started to try and drag him back along the corridor."
"Oh come on Harry, I want to show you!' she seized his arm again, pulled him in front of the picture... and pushed Harry hard in the back, forcing him inside."
Hexes:
"...catching up with Harry and Ron in the Entrance Hall and pulling Harry's hand away from one of his wriggling ears so that he could hear her."
The end:
"'Bye, Harry!' said Hermione, and she did something she had never done before, and kissed him on the cheek."
7) Things to note about this:
a) IMO it reflects Hermione's growing self confidence which is very evident in OOTP
b) Hermione appears to have an increasing wish for physical contact with Harry. For instance is it really necessary for her to touch his hands and pull them away from his ears (twice) to gain his attention. Wouldn't a tap on the shoulder have sufficed? And isn't hand to hand contact quite a lot more intimate than tapping someone on the shoulder?
c) Harry only initiates physical contact once, during the Dark Mark chapter: "He [Harry] seized the other two and pulled them down onto the ground." There is no description of how he reacts to the joint hug Hermione gives himself and Ron.
d) This pattern coincides with a growing mental closeness between Harry and Hermione: a lot of instances of them knowing what each other is thinking and also of Harry becoming more interested in what Hermione is thinking. It also coincides with Harry becoming more reliant on Hermione: needing her friendship when he has his falling out with Ron and her knowledge and skill to help him get through the tournament.
OOTP:
Now we finally come to the most interesting part of this whole pattern. It has changed again.
Harry's feelings towards Hermione are in transition and that flows through into a river of confused thoughts, emotions and actions about various subjects.
Just in the welcome scene, for instance, there are phrases such as: "found that he was not sorry" "the words tumbling over one another in a rush" 'but before he knew it, Harry was shouting" "every ... thought ... was pouring out of him" that help to show he's not on top of things.
8) The hug
"Followed by an even louder shriek, and his vision was completely obscured by a large quantity of very bushy hair. Hermione had thrown herself on him in a hug that nearly knocked him flat, while Ron's tiny owl, Pigwidgeon, zoomed excitedly round and round their heads.
"HARRY! Ron, he's here, Harry's here! We didn't hear you arrive! Oh, how are you! Are you all right? Have you been furious with us? I bet you have, I know our letters were useless - but we couldn't tell you anything, Dumbledore made us swear we wouldn't, oh, we've got so much to tell you, and you've got things to tell us - the Dementors! When we heard - and that Ministry hearing - it's just outrageous. I've looked it all up, they can't expel you, they just can't, there's provision in the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of underage Sorcery for use of magic in life threatening situations -"
"Let him breathe, Hermione," said Ron. (Harry gives description of Ron)Still beaming, Hermione let go of Harry."
a) When compared with the pattern of the previous books this has to be the most intense and sheerly physical sign of affection and joy Hermione has ever lavished on Harry. Compare it to their first hug in PS: that was a moving embrace, this is almost a rugby tackle.
b) Neither Harry nor Hermione want to let go. Harry doesn't make any move to. Hermione only lets go after Ron intervenes.
c) For the first time, we are told how Harry feels: a "warm glow that had flared inside him". This feeling incorporates seeing both friends, but it starts when Hermione hugs him, as I've explained previously.
9) Snape's class:
"Salamander blood, Harry!" Hermione moaned, grabbing his wrist to prevent him adding the wrong ingredient."
Hagrid's cabin:
"Get under here!" Harry said quickly; seizing the Invisibility Cloak, he whirled it over himself and Hermione while Ron tore around the table and dived under the cloak as well ... Hermione gasped; Harry clapped a hand over her mouth ... Harry made to pull off the Invisibility Cloak but Hermione seized his wrist. "Not yet," she breathed in his ear. She might not be gone yet."
Quidditch:
"As they rose from the table, Hermione got up too, and taking Harry's arm she drew him to one side."
Grawp:
"Hermione walked right into him and was knocked over backwards. Harry caught her just before she hit the forest floor ... "Good!" said Hermione, as Harry set her back on her feet."
"Grawp's hand had shot out of nowhere towards Hermione; Harry seized her and pulled her backwards behind the tree, so that Grawp's fist scraped the trunk but closed on thin air.
"Bad boy Grawpy!" they heard Hagrid yelling, as Hermione clung to Harry behind the tree, shaking and whimpering."
Out of the Fire:
"Get over here," muttered Hermione, tugging at Harry's wrist and pulling him back into a recess."
"Harry grabbed Hermione and pulled her to the ground."
"Hermione had been dropped, too, and Harry hurried towards her."
"Hermione gripped his arm tightly."
"Harry could feel Hermione shaking as Grawp opened his mouth wide again and said in a deep, rumbling voice, 'Hermy.' 'Goodness,' said Hermione, gripping Harry's arm so tightly it was growing numb."
"One of the giant's massive hands reached down. Hermione let out a real scream, ran a few steps backwards and fell over. Devoid of a wand, Harry braced himself to punch, kick, bite or whatever else it took as the hand swooped towards him."
"Pebble-sized droplets of Grawp's blood showered Harry as he pulled Hermione to her feet and the pair of them ran as fast as they could."
"Harry and Hermione moved together instinctively and peered through the trees."
The Department of Mysteries:
"The circular wall was rotating. Hermione grabbed Harry's arm as though frightened the floor might move too, but it did not."
"She grabbed his arm and pulled, but he resisted."
"He seized a handful of Hermione's robes and dragged her forwards."
"Harry raised his wand but to his amazement Hermione seized his arm."
10) The major change to the pattern from all the other books is that Harry is a far more active participant.
Instead of being the more passive rock that Hermione clings on to, he is much more forcibly protecting her. He reacts very instinctively and decisively.
From being mostly one-sided in the sense that Hermione was doing most of the grabbing, it is now much more even. There's more full-on contact rather than just arm grabbing.
If we compare Harry's actions in the forest scenes of OOTP with the Shrieking Shack/Time Turner scenes he is far more protective and physical with Hermione than before. In POA they were facing the Whomping Willow, a werewolf and dementors, in OOTP a giant and centaurs.
The way Harry shapes up to Grawp without a wand shows almost a desperation to protect Hermione. When his arm starts to go numb in OOTP, same as it did in POA, this time he doesn't ask her to let go.
11) Overall this changing pattern reflects the changing nature of Harry and Hermione's relationship:
Hermione has been the one to develop and realize her feelings for Harry but now Harry is catching up just as Hermione for a while was the dominant participant in the pattern but it has evened with Harry's full involvement.
#harry potter#harmione#harmony#harry and hermione#harry potter ships#hermione granger#hp ships#harry x hermione#harry/hermione#hermione and harry#hermione x harry#hermione/harry#harry potter series#harry potter books#hp#hhr#harry potter essay#harmione essay
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Too Loose And You’ll Lose It
Chapter 6: Jesus Is My Homeboy
Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing
Summary: Jake and Stella spend an afternoon looking for suitably embarrassing photos of Pooch to use on his Stag Party and when they find some older shots of themselves they take a trip down memory lane. But the trip is cut short when Evan arrives.
Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson
Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)
A/N: So this chapter was written for For @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @sagechanoafterdark ‘s Winter/Holiday Challenge. Prompt- “That is the ugliest sweater I have ever seen.”
TLAYLI Masterlist // Main Masterlist
Chapter 5
They were running low on time. There were so many things to do before Pooch’s stag party in four weeks that The Losers had all agreed they should split their forces to get everything ready for the weekend in New York. As such, Stella and Jensen had ended up pooling their resources and were currently browsing through pictures on Jake's laptop while Pooch was on his lunch break. Unfortunately, Cougar had the day off so he wouldn't be able to stall Pooch at the small café down the street but that would pose no problem if they hurried and got what they needed fast. Mind you, Jolene had done her fair share of work and had sent them a bunch of shaming Pooch pictures they could use for their ‘mission’ and picking the most embarrassing ones should surely be easy as pie.
The problem was, however, that Jensen was finding it hard to concentrate and keep his eyes and mind focused on the screen. In fact, hard didn’t even come close to describing. He was leaning so close to Stella as they studied his computer screen that he could smell her shower gel. A scent of vanilla and pumpkin which he could easily identify anywhere with his eyes closed. Not that he needed to keep his eyes open to smell something but he knew what he meant…
"Oh my god, Jake! Look at his fucking hair!" Stella suddenly shrieked before starting to howl, startling him and pulling him out of his useless wandering thoughts.
"What?" he asked looking at her before glancing back at the screen again as Stella grabbed the mouse and clicked on a picture to magnify it and show a young Pooch sporting an afro hairdo which made Jensen blink.
"Didn’t know Pooch was part of the Jackson 5" he laughed before he inhaled and looked at her “Oh my God, Stel, they were really the Jackson 6. Pooch is the missing link. Poor Pooch, abandoned after birth, discarded youngest son of an already overcrowded family." He sighed and Stella howled again, this time banging her hand on the desk.
"Did Jolene send you these?"
Jensen grinned, smug he was making Stella laugh hard at his wisecracks. "Yup."
"He is gonna kill you." Stella snorted as she shook her head.
"Nah, he will be too drunk to care, as we will all be." Jensen offered as he saved the picture into another folder, missing Stella wrinkling her nose, but hearing her sigh before speaking.
"I dunno if I'm going yet."
"What? Why?" Jensen inquired hastily, turning to look at her. "You have to come, Stel!"
"Yeah, but I’m not so sure. I mean it was nice of Pooch to count me in but..."
"He counted you in because he wants you there. You're a Loser." Jensen cut her off before she could even doubt her place in the tight group they all formed.
"Yes I know that and I want to spend a good time with you guys but…" she trailed off and at that Jensen inhaled and shuffled on his chair to sit facing her. She hadn't spent any decent time with them for the last month. Every time they organised something she ended up backing out as Agent Shithead happened to have booked them something to do, on the exact same night, always a coincidence.
Bullshit if you asked Jensen.
He was just pondering how exactly he could point that out to her, without pissing her off, when she continued talking.
"Ev was on about us going away that weekend. He's busy for the week or so after with stuff at home, so I won’t get to see him."
There it is, Jensen thought, but did his best to stay calm, even though he wanted nothing more than to scream at Stella that the guy was a jerk and it was clear he was doing this to keep her away from him. But Jensen knew he couldn't do that, not without ratting his nosy ass out for listening into their argument the other month, so instead he decided to keep it cool and play the role of the concerned, interested best friend and confidant.
"Oh, what's he got on at home?" he spoke, pleased to hear his voice sounded interested as opposed to prying.
"His Auntie is moving house and he's helping. Then there’s like decorating and stuff so we won't see each other." Stella explained and Jensen could clearly see her frown burrow as she repeated what he suspected were the exact same words Shithead had told her, but the look on her face made it seem as if she was doubting them almost, now she was the one that was uttering them.
Jensen felt a flicker of hope and sighed as he looked at her, pondering what to say. Don't jinx it now, Jensen.
"Don't sigh at me like that Jake." she pleaded, somewhat guiltily.
"I was just thinking…good luck explaining to Pooch you’re not coming to New York with us because your boyfriend is busy the week after." he explained himself, almost spitting the word boyfriend, which he regretted the moment he did as he could see Stella's expression change from a concern to anger as he glared at him.
"Don't start, Jensen."
"I’m not starting anything, Stevenson." He declared, using her surname as well, making it clear her calling him by his hadn't gone unnoticed. "Just trying to make you see you’re missing Pooch’s Batchelor Party, which will only happen once in his life, so as not to make your boyfriend angry."
"It's not about not making him angry, for fucks sake" Stella almost growled, visibly annoyed at his insinuation.
"You sure about that? What would his reaction be if you told him you were coming with us?" Jensen pressed, ignoring all the red flags her tone and expression carried, in a desperate attempt to make her see for herself what, to him, was crystal clear.
Fuck it Stel, why can't you see it?
"I don't know.” Stella said, somewhat exasperatedly as she gave a shrug “He wouldn't be mad, probably disappointed but..."
However, as she spoke there was something in her voice and Jensen squinted his eyes at her. He could tell she understood that to be not entirely truthful, as he knew she was well aware Evan had a temper. Stella herself had kicked him out of her apartment the very same day he had confessed to her he didn’t want her near her ex, and from what he had heard since about a few other arguments they had, it always ended the same. Him raising his voice and guilt tripping her into thinking she was to blame.
So, all things considered, Jensen decided to change strategy and go down the guilt trip road.
"Ok. Whatever you wanna do. But remember, disappointment goes both ways Stel." he stated as he shrugged and focused his attention back on the screen.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Stella asked, frowning.
"Just that by not disappointing your boyfriend, you’re gonna end up disappointing Pooch. But I guess its fine, he still got the rest of us. I just hope it doesn’t bit you on the ass one day.” He insisted on making his point while flicking through the rest of the pictures. His eyes didn't leave the screen but he heard her groan besides him.
"You know what? I can't be bothered listening to you bitch." She pinched the bridge of her nose.
"I’m not bitching Stel. Do whatever you think you should do. You already know my opinion, so that’s the last thing I’ll say on the topic." he said as he looked at her from the corner of his eye.
"That'll be a first." Stella snorted, folding her arms over her chest.
"Well if it has to be, so be it." Jensen shrugged again as if he couldn't care less, but he could feel her eyes on him and he fought to avoid turning his head to look at her.
"Just flip to the next photo JJ, before I smash your head through the desk."
Jensen was fuming now, but decided not to acknowledge that last comment, thinking instead when he finally unmasked Shithead, she’d be eating her words and apologising big time. Instead, he fought the anger down, took a deep breath and did as he had been told, flipping to the next picture which drew a smile to his face. It was a shot of all the Losers out at Christmas a few years back, five faces grinning into the camera while wearing tacky Christmas sweaters.
And, just as Jensen expected, Stella laughed heartily when her eyes spotted the one he had on and he grinned.
"You still have that sweater?" Stella chuckled, pointing at the item of clothing which depicted Jesus wearing a party hat whilst holding a balloon, with the words ‘BIRTHDAY BOY’ written underneath
"Yup. Don’t know where though. Must be at my parents. That’s if Gracie hasn’t found it and decided it’s the coolest thing ever."
“No one would decide that’s the coolest thing ever.” Stella laughed again and then grabbed his arm. "Oooh! Do you still have the photo of the time we went out back home with them all on, the Christmas before we passed out of training?"
Jensen took his eyes off her hand that was still grabbing his arm and rubbed his beard while thinking about the system folder the picture may be in. "Yeah, I think it might be in one of these." he said as he clicked on one named ‘Good Times’.
Stella could see a load of thumbnails as they popped up on the screen. They were mainly shots of his family, but there were also a few of her and him and a couple of him and Gracie. And she was just thinking about how he still had some of the pictures they had taken together all those years back, wondering to herself if that meant he still cared for her after everything that had happened between them or if he had simply forgotten they were there in the first place, when she heard him say "Yup. There it is."
"Oh my God, look at that Jakey!" she squealed, her gorgeous smile on her face again, as Jensen noticed she was back at Jakey. “We look so young.”
Jensen smiled broadly at her before turning to look at the picture again, taking every detail of it in. It was a picture of him, his dad, Rob and Stella all in horrific sweaters. Jake wore the aforementioned item bearing the large Jesus image, Rob’s was a Home Alone themed Sweater, featuring the infamous picture Kevin finds in his brother’s room along with the quote- ‘Buzz, your girlfriend…woof!’ John’s had a 3D elf attached to the bottom emblazoned with the slogan ‘When I think about you I touch my Elf’ and Stella’s was the classier of the four, a sparkly green Christmas tree effect, with baubles hanging all over it. The four of them were rosy cheeked from alcohol (well, mostly…) and smiling broadly, Stella stood next to Jake as his arm curled around her waist, John to her other side as his draped over her shoulder.
Happier, simpler times for them all.
"Remember that afternoon?" Jensen asked her, smiling softly at a grinning and younger Stel on the screen.
"Yeah." Stella smiled at him. "It was the afternoon of our annual Secret Santa dinner night at your mom and dad’s."
Jake then turned to look at her, grinning. "That’s not what I was asking, Stel."
She chuckled and rolled her eyes. "You want me to say I remember our bunk up in the bathroom?"
"Yup." he replied as he wriggled his eyebrows playfully at her.
"My sweater was missing a few baubles when we made it back into the bar."
"Yeah" he reminisced as he grinned wildly. "Birthday boy got his very own porn show.”
Stella snorted, slapping his arm. "We are so going to Hell for that."
"Well if that's what Hell is like baby, I don't wanna go to Heaven." he quipped cheekily, making Stella slap his arm again.
“Stop it, Jake!"
"Okay, okay, sorry..." he chuckled. But he wasn’t sorry in the slightest about bringing up that memory and as Stella turned her eyes back to the screen he found himself back in that bar, one Friday afternoon in December 2002.
It was the day before Christmas Eve and he, his dad and Rob were out for drinks on what could have been deemed as a forced boys’ afternoon because his mom had kicked them out not long after lunch stating that she and Jane were doing dinner with Jules. Apparently they needed to get started like five fucking hours in advance for some reason and thus, all three men had found themselves at their local bar at four p.m. wearing their ugly Christmas sweaters as was the tradition on that day. What they hadn't counted on was having to go out in them, least of all to a bar where almost everyone knew them.
Stella was meeting her girlfriends for a shopping afternoon before they all met up for dinner and drinks and the annual "joke" Secret Santa. Only this year they were two down as Rey and Dick were in Florida visiting some of Dick's extended family, who knows who exactly, as Jake wasn't very fond of paying attention to details when Dick Fitzpatrick spoke. What he did know however, was that they would also be examining pretentious venues for their wedding the year after.
Fifteen minutes after their first round was served, Jensen was putting his empty beer down as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and John immediately nudged him. "Give it a rest son! You've been glued to that all afternoon."
"Yeah. What are you doing? Talking to someone?" Rob snorted, rolling his eyes. "I wonder who."
Jensen grinned. "Not my fault my girl can't stand not to message me for more than thirty minutes."
“Keep telling yourself that. It’s you who can’t stand not talking to her." Rob quipped as John chuckled and nodded in agreement.
"You saying I'm whipped Robert?" Jensen asked sternly, tilting his head to look at him before his face split into another huge grin. "Because you would be absolutely right and I'm not ashamed to admit it."
At that he waved at the bartender and ordered another round while John snorted and Rob shook his head.
"We’ve lost him, John."
"We lost him a long time ago, Rob” John sniggered and Rob nodded seriously.
"Yeah, so says Jane." He spoke as he leaned on the bar.
"Shut up Robert, you're the one that drove two hundred miles home at like four a.m. because Jane was crying she had period cramps and you were away with work." Jensen jabbed at his brother in law.
"He got you there pal." John laughed loudly as Rob narrowed his eyes.
"How do you know that?"
Jensen just shrugged. "I’m her little brother, I know things."
Rule number two?... four?..., whatever, in military training; never reveal your sources or methods of information.
But Rob wasn't buying any of Jensen’s bullshit and narrowed his eyes again. "Jane told Stella, didn't she?"
"Maybe."
Maybe wasn't a yes, right?
Rob rolled his eyes. "Whatever."
"You wanna make this a competition? Because Jake’s been like that for years now." John teased Rob.
“Oh, shut up dad." Jensen protested as he passed him one of the beers the bartender had just placed in front of them.
John laughed before raising his bottle "You already admitted you were whipped!" and Jensen groaned as his dad took a big gulp of his second beer. "You know, Son. I'm kinda offended you don't make me coffee and toast every morning."
"What?" Rob asked, spluttering beer all over the bar.
"Every time Stel stays over, he makes her coffee and toast in bed. Fuck the rest of us, like.."
Jensen grinned and cut his dad off straight away. "No. I don't fuck the rest of you, which is why I don’t make you breakfast."
At that some of the usual patrons turned to look at them as Rob started howling at John’s face. "He’s not wrong John."
"Guess I asked for that one." John mused before taking another sip of beer.
"You totally did, dad."
"Cheers to that." Rob quipped as he and Jensen clinked their bottles together.
"What is this, gang up on John day?"
"Come on old man. Don’t get angry and order another round for us." Jensen grinned, chugging his beer down and patting his dad's shoulder.
So John did, and then when they finished that it was Rob’s turn to buy, and thus the cycle continued two hours later they were still perched at the same place at the bar, talking nonsense with alcohol running freely through their systems.
"Pity Rey and Dick are away this year because I had found the perfect shit Secret Santa gift for her." Rob whined and Jensen sniggered by his side.
"A joke book?"
"Nope. Her boyfriend is the joke." Rob quipped and both men started laughing until John corrected Rob.
"Ah ah ah, her fiancé."
"Yup, right. Her fiancé." Rob repeated, raising his beer in a mock toast.
Jensen chuckled and leaned his head on his right arm where it was folded on the bar before speaking. "Fahk man. All she talks about is that fahkin’ wedding."
"Well she's excited, son." John shrugged.
"Too excited. She’s got Jane on the phone, all day." Rob complained and, at that, Jensen groaned raising his head again to look at Rob.
"And Stella, man. She’s dreading whatever bridesmaid dress Rey picks." Jensen paused, before grinning widely. "When me and Stel get married it's just gonna be one big party."
John and Rob shared a glance.
"Well, we’ll see if you stay true to your word when we come to it." John said simply, not knowing if it was drunken Jensen speaking or if his son was being serious about it. But Jensen's next comment left no room for doubt.
"We already talked about it. No fancy ass do just a simple set of I dos and a fuck load of fun." Jake stated seriously.
Rob shared another quick glance with John as he raised an eyebrow. "You two talked about it?"
"Yeah." Jensen nodded but then frowned, spotting the expression on his sister's boyfriend's face. "What's the issue?"
"What's the issue? For fucks sake, Jake. You're only twenty-one" Rob argued and Jensen was fast to cut him
"So what? When you know, you know Rob."
"And what can you possibly know at twenty-one?" Rob insisted.
Jake just shrugged, any possible concern on Rob's part falling on deaf ears, he just knew. "Never be another girl for me."
At that John decided to help his son out. "To be fair Rob, he's been in love with her for basically the last ten years. Was just too chicken to do anything about it until he was seventeen"
Rob snorted and shook his head as he raised his beer to Jake. "Cheers to that man. You're a goner." and then sipped from his bottle before continuing. "You wanna spend your life with Rey as a sister in law, be my guest."
Jake looked at him and then shrugged again. "Worth it."
"Well, I guess that speaks for itself." Rob finally conceded which put a big smile on Jensen's face before he made a confession.
"I'd ask her now but we got training to finish first, so..." and then Jake hiccuped before gulping down the rest of his beer.
When they all finished their drinks and another round was ordered the three men were in an inevitable semi-drunk state and, as was to be expected, started cracking jokes and, what was worse, singing out loud. After being told to quit their fourth rendition of ‘Oh, Christmas Tree!’ by the bar tender, they moved back to jokes, Rob and Jensen trying to out-do each other with the trusty old ‘Yo Momma jokes’.
Jensen nailed rob with the one about his momma being so stupid she stared at a cup of orange juice for twelve hours because it said concentrate, to which Rob responded that Jensen’s momma was so short you could see her feet on her driver’s license photo. They continued getting more and more insulting until Rob grinned and pointed his bottle at Jensen, smirking.
“Yo momma’s so ugly, she threw a boomerang and it refused to come back.”
"Hey!" John protested, suddenly zoning into the conversation, making the two younger men howl with laughter. He clutched his glass as he glared at Rob. "You're my least favourite son in law now, Danby."
"I’m your only son in law John."
"Yeah, and you're shit." John stated, tipping his bottle towards Rob, spilling a little of the pilsner he was drinking onto the bar surface.
"I’ll tell Jane you said that."
"Tell her whatever you want. I’m her favourite father." John shrugged, taking a large gulp of his beer.
"As opposed to that other one who shows up on her birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas?" Jensen quipped, grinning at his father.
"What?" John asked, not understanding what shit his son was talking but then he realised what he had just said and snorted. "Oh God, I think I’m drunk. Your mother is so gonna kill me."
"Just blame John. She can't shout at him." Jensen offered, trying to keep a straight face at his father's frown.
"John? Who’s John?"
Rob and Jensen started pissing themselves laughing at John's dumbfounded face. "John Jensen, best disgusting person." Jake shrugged.
John frowned and suddenly realised "Oh, you mean me? Hey! Why am I disgusting?"
"Because we have pretty much finished our drinks, your lagging behind and you haven’t ordered a new round yet.” Jensen fired his shot.
"I bought the last one." John reminded his son.
"No, you didn’t. Rob did." Jensen quipped as he winked at Rob.
"Yeah, he's right John. I did." Rob played along.
John was about to tell them both to piss off as he wasn't that drunk when he spotted Stella and her friends entering the bar and decided to play his son, with his one and only weakness. "Tell you what. Whoever cracks a smile first buys the next round. If you can go for two minutes I’ll buy the next ones. Think you can keep a straight face boys?” he baited them.
"You mean you want us to be grumpy like you old man?” Jensen arched an eyebrow as he hiccupped. “But it’s Christmas, what’s there to be grumpy about.”
"You chicken, Son?” John teased him and Rob whistled as Jensen stopped dead, his almost empty beer bottle poised at his mouth.
"You just call me a chicken?” he slammed the bottle down on the surface, wrinkling his nose as he waved his hand in the air “Whatever man, start the damned timer."
John did as told and put his phone at the centre of the table, so they could clearly see it counting upwards. The three men started looking at one another, examining each other’s faces for a flick of a smile as they tried to keep their own as straight as possible. And just as the two minutes were about to expire John tapped Jensen on his shoulder and nodded behind him.
Jake turned and just as he did a huge grin broke on his face as he spotted Stella, Then he realised, turning hastily to his dad with a groan. "Damned it!! You stitched me up."
John was already cackling as Rob banged on the bar, both men unable to hold back the tears of laughter.
"You know what, I don’t care. Here.” Jensen said as he slapped twenty bucks on the bar. "Imma go say hi to my Stelly."
"Yeah, go Son. Say hi to your Stelly." John mocked him as he wiped the tears in his eyes. But before Jensen left, Rob nodded to the twenty bucks and looked at John.
“Another twenty say he doesn’t come back in the next fifteen minutes."
"You think it'll take him that long?" John scoffed, earning a glare from Jensen who then looked at Rob.
"You suck.” Jake hiccuped.
"Talking about sucking, fifteen minutes Jake." Rob teased him, tapping at his wrist.
"II only need ten.” Jensen shrugged.
At that Rob looked at John who shook his head with a smirk as he set the timer again. They then saw Jensen leave, crossing the room over to his girl.
As he approached, Jensen saw Stella's cheeks were pink most likely from a combination of alcohol and cold. As she spotted him, those cheeks raised showing off her dimples and her cute little nose wrinkled as she grinned hugely which Jensen loved. "Hi Jakey!"
"Hi, gorgeous." he greeted her back before kissing her and then grinned at her friends. "Ladies?"
They all murmured hi and Stella looked at him. "You gonna buy me a drink?"
"I’m buying you all a drink but you’re gonna have to help me bring them to the table, baby." Jensen offered, getting his plan rolling.
The girls all cheered Jensen and ‘complimented’ his sweater in return for the free drinks. "Jesus is my homeboy." he stated, seriously puffing out his chest causing Stella’s friends to laugh.
"You’re so full of shit." she snorted.
"Rude, Stel."he narrowed his eyes playfully.
"True." she admitted as she stood up patted Jesus's head. "Come on then, let's get these drinks. Be back in a moment girls."
"Yeah, sure." One of them spoke as the rest all giggled. "Don't make it too long guys."
Jake chuckled as he grabbed Stella’s hand and started leading her through the room.
"Jake, the bar is that way.” She started to protest.
"Need a pit stop." He replied simply.
"Right well you go pee and I'll meet you at the bar. Gimme your wallet." Stella ordered as she stopped in her tracks behind Jensen.
"Nope. You coming with me." he ignored her request, pulling her hand to keep her walking.
"What?"
Jensen didn't answer her but yanked her towards the men’s restroom. "Shhh..."
"I'm not going in there Jake!" Stella protested.
"All right. Ladies it is” Jensen quickly spun to the door next to the gent’s and Stella scoffed.
"Jake! No!" She stopped again and yanked on his arm hard enough to make him jerk back, turn and bump into her slightly.
“What's up?” his hands fell to her hips as he began to walk them backwards into the ladies bathroom. As he pushed the door open he checked around to make sure they were alone and began to pull her further into the room, ignoring her protests. He dropped his head to whisper in her ear, stopping just outside an open cubicle “You losing your sense of adventure, baby?” he softly nipped at her neck and she shuddered
“God, you’re a damn bastard, Jakey.” She whispered.
“Yeah but I’m your damn bastard, Stelly.”
“Oh, shut up!” she mumbled, grabbing the front of his sweater and pulling him towards her for a ferocious kiss before she pushed him into the cubicle, his lips curling into a smirk against her mouth. Once inside he backed her up against the door, reaching round to lock it, before his large hands cupped her face, the kiss growing deeper as his tongue slid against hers, grazing the roof of her mouth as she fisted her hands in his sweater.
“Don’t pull Jesus’ hair too much.” He quipped and she grinned, her hands sliding up into his own short locks, giving a shark yank tipping his head back, bearing his neck to her.
“I’ll just pull yours instead.”
A low growl rumbled in his throat as his hand slid up her sweater, his leg moving forward as he planted his thigh in between hers. She let out a moan as he pushed up sharply, the harsh denim of both their jeans grinding on her spot. She was soaked already, and when his fingers started to undo the buttons of her pants she was relieved that he wasn’t wasting any time. He pulled them downwards and pulled off the boot on her left foot, allowing her to step one leg out of her jeans, freeing her legs slightly as he gripped her left thigh, hooking it over his hip. Planting one hand by the side of her head, his other shifted her panties to one side, and he grinned again, his lips hovering over hers.
“You know, for all your protests, you feel pretty ready, Darlin’”
“Shut up and fuck me Jake.” She mumbled as his lips caught the pulse point on her neck, her head banging against the cubicle door causing it to rattle as his fingers slid into her folds, one circling her clit.
“This what you want?” he asked, his breath was low.
“God, yes!” she muttered as his fingers picked up the pace. He inserted one inside, then another, and her head fell forward onto his shoulder as he curled it forward his digits forward against her spot, thumb circling her clit. Moving his other hand he slid it up her jumper and pulled down the cups of her bra freeing her breasts, gently rolling one nipple in between his fingers, his other hand still fucking her gently and she let out a gasp.
“Jakey for God’s Sake just fuck me already!” she repeated her demand and Jake grinned.
“I love it when you beg.”
“Prick.” She mumbled, as her hands flew to the buckle on his belt, opening it with a clink of metal before she easily undid his jeans, her fingers pushing them and his boxers down, allowing his hard cock to spring loose. Jensen hooked his hands under her knees and lifted her so her legs were round his waist, back pressed to the locked cubicle door. Once more he claimed her mouth with a heated kiss, swallowing the dirty groan she gave as he pushed into her.
Her walls gripped him with their familiar warmth and tightness and with a sigh he began to move, slowly at first, gently, her hands grasping at his shoulders as she tilted her hips towards him, her clit grinding against his pubic bone and it was then that one of the baubles on her jumper pinged loose and dropped to the floor with a soft chink.
“Shit.” She mumbled, but her word cut off as Jensen rotated his hips, pushing against her harder and she gasped as his hips quickened their pace, his ruts becoming deeper and faster. Soon the bathroom was filled with the filthy sound of skin on skin, moans and groans, punctuated by the odd soft clink as bauble after bauble worked itself free from Stella’s sweater. Her hands were everywhere-in his hair, up his back, under his top, nails biting at the skin as she hung onto him for dear life. Jensen continued to slam into her again and again, lips kissing down her jawline, neck, nipping and biting softly as he went.
“God I love you, Jakey” Stella gasped, her hands now on his face, bringing his mouth round to kiss hers again, the pads of her fingers digging into his short stubble.
“Love you too, my Stelly” he moaned into her mouth, the noise of the door behind continuing to rattle loudly as his pace didn’t falter in the slightest.
“Fuck…” she moaned, her nails sliding up into his hair and Jensen gave a gasp as he felt her tighten around him Her heels, one still wearing a boot, dug into his ass, her nails digging into his scalp as she groaned, her eyes wide. “Jakey, I’m…”
“You gonna come for me?” He asked as his mouth hovered over hers, eyes locked on hers, watching, and she nodded, a whimper escaping her throat, as her head banged back against the door.
“Shit, Jake, oh, oh…” and then her words and little noises died off, her mouth dropping open into a silent scream as she clamped around him, hard as her release took her away. Her entire body shook and Jensen gave a strangled groan that bubbled from the depths of this chest, and he clutched her to him, tightly, hips stuttering as he shuddered with the utter intensity of it all, before he too came hard with as surge that curled his toes.
Their chests heaved together as Stella clung to him, Jake’s head pressed into the crook of her shoulder as they both waited for the world to stop spinning around them. After a moment or two, Stella began to chuckle and Jake moved, pressing his forehead to hers, their noses bumping as he kissed her softly.
“You good?” he asked and she nodded.
“I am but I think poor Jesus will be scarred for life.” She grinned and Jake laughed, before he pulled out of her with a gentle sigh, setting her back on her feet. “Can we get that drink now?” she asked.
Jake laughed before he remembered what Rob and his dad had said to him and he quickly grabbed his phone, smirking.
9 minutes…
The memory faded away as Stella’s voice hit his ears and he turned to her “Sorry, what?”
She rolled her eyes. “I knew you weren't listening!”
“Sorry, was just thinking about that afternoon.” He grinned “Dad and Rob were highly amused we did the dirty with Jesus watching.”
“And whose fault was that?” Stella arched an eyebrow at him.
“I didn't hear you complaining. Well, not until after when you realised half the baubles were missing off your sweater.”
Stella snorted “My mom asked me what happened to it when we got back to yours. And your dad said…”
“Divine intervention!” they both spoke at the same time, laughing, only to be interrupted as Pooch walked into the office.
“Amen! What are you two up to?”
Stella wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes and looked round at him. “We were just looking at some photos and reminiscing.”
“Some photos?” Pooch asked as he approached Jensen’s desk. Jake turned the laptop for him to see and Pooch bent closer before he shook his head.
“Jensen, what the fuck are you wearing man?”
“Question should be who the fuck was I wearing Pooch.”
“Or why?” Pooch shot back and Jensen shrugged.
“It’s a Jensen-Stevenson family tradition buddy.” He leaned back in his chair, scratching his chest over his uniform. “Every year we have a dinner and a Secret Santa. Well, we used to anyway before...” at that he sat forward and cleared his throat, noticing Stella look away as he did so. He quickly recovered himself and smiled up at Pooch “Rule was the worst sweater won an extra prize.”
“Well you nailed it Jensen because frankly that is the ugliest sweater I have ever seen."
“You’re going to hell for saying that.” Jensen pointed at him.
“Yeah and we'll see him there after what poor Jesus saw that afternoon.” Stella snorted. Jensen smirked asas Pooch looked between them slightly confused.
“What do you...” he trailed off, groaning as he suddenly understood and then scoffed as they both started laughing again. “You guys are...were...” he pulled a face, “oh that’s nasty.”
“What’s nasty?” another voice spoke and all three of them turned to see Evan in the doorway. Jake shut his laptop violently, in a display of petulance more than anything. He was damned if he was letting that fucker into their private joke. Evan arched his eyebrow slightly before his attention turned to Stella as she explained.
“Oh we just found some old photos of us in horrific Christmas sweaters.”
“Found? On his laptop? By chance?” Evan’s tone was slightly accusing and Stella shrugged, missing the glare he shot at Jake.
“We were looking for something else and got side tracked.” Stella waved her hand “Anyway, what are you doing here? I thought you were in briefings till late?”
“I was but we finished earlier than expected and thought I could pick you up and maybe grab dinner at mine? I’ll cook.”
“Erm, sure.” Stella smiled “Sounds good.”
Pooch and Jensen exchanged a glance and Jensen merely rolled his eyes. Here she was again, backing out of a pre-arrange Losers social. But Jensen knew better than to raise that fact, certainly not in front of Evan.
As it happened though, Pooch didn’t.
“You not coming to the poker game then?” he asked and Stella blinked before she gave a groan.
“Shit. I forgot, erm…” she looked at Evan. “Roque’s organised a game.”
“Oh, okay.” Evan shrugged “I just thought we could spend the evening together. You never said anything about a poker game, Pumpkin, I wouldn’t have asked if I’d have known.”
At that Jensen rolled his eyes. The smell of bullshit was overwhelming.
“I must have forgotten.” Stella shrugged.
“Arty, you ain't been out with us for weeks.” Pooch pressed “Every time we organise something you’re busy. We got stag do planning to do!”
At that Jensen really did grimace given their earlier conversation. This wasn’t going to be pretty.
“I thought you weren't going to New York?” Evan spoke, his voice calm but Jensen spotted the nerve twitching in his jaw.
“What?” Pooch tuned to Stella and she groaned.
“Sorry.” Evan looked from her to Pooch, an innocent expression on his face and Jensen gripped the side of the desk firmly to stop himself doing something stupid. Like punching the fucker in the face “Did I put my foot in it?”
“What do you mean you're not coming?” Pooch completely ignored Evan, his eyes fixed on Stella as he waited for her to answer. She floundered for a moment, and Jensen sighed. He was torn, he felt sorry for Stella but on the other hand he really wanted Pooch to call her out and perhaps finally see what he had been saying for weeks- that Evan was a manipulative little shit.
“I haven't decided.” Stella shrugged, her voice quiet “I don't know what I'm doing.”
“You haven’t decided? What’s there to decide?” Pooch continued “You said you were coming Arty, I was counting you in”
“I know. I'm sorry, I just-“
“This is my fault.” Evan jumped in. “I'm busy for the week after helping my Aunt move house and I suggested we do something that weekend as we won't see each other. I booked us a hotel in Boston.”
“You did?” Stella frowned and Evan nodded before he took a deep breath and shook his head.
“I didn't know the dates clashed.”
“Sure you didn’t.” Jake mumbled to himself, turning back to the monitor which now showed nothing but the screensaver which was a picture of him, Stella and Gracie at her soccer game they had attended back home last year. Still, he pretended to be busy as Pooch and Evan stared at one another before Pooch shrugged, taking a deep breath.
“Whatever man.”
“I’m sorry Pooch I…” Stella started again and Pooch cut her off.
“No Arty, I’m the one who’s sorry.” His usually jovial tone was cold and Jensen saw Stella’s shoulders slump in the corner of his eye and wanted nothing more than to give her a hug.
“I think I’m gonna skip poker tonight.” She spoke softly and Jensen’s head whipped round to face her full on.
“What?”
“I’ll let Roque know you’re dropping out.” Pooch cut in.
“Are you sure, sweetheart?” Evan looked at her “I don't mind if you wanna go, we can do something tomorrow instead.”
This time Jake’s scoff was loud enough for all three of them to hear and Evan turned to glare at him. Jensen held his stare, his hands clenching into fists under the table. He was just about ready to explode.
“Yeah, I’m sure. It’s fine.” Stella stood up “I’ll see you both later.”
With that she grabbed her jacket and left the room, Evan behind her, his hand planted in the small of her back. Pooch and Jake exchanged a glance, watching her go before Pooch crossed the room and closed the door, turning to Jensen.
“Dude. She’s not coming on my bachelor party? What the fuck?”
“I told you the guy is a manipulative bastard.” Jensen grit through his teeth. “She told me earlier she didn’t know if she could make it as he wanted to spend the weekend with her. He’s doing it deliberately to keep her away from me, or us, whatever.” He sighed, “And I’d bet my last dollar that, despite what she says, she’s offhandedly mentioned something about poker tonight and he’s shown up here now, on purpose, to guilt trip her into not going.” His fingers traced his goatee. “I don’t know what to do, Pooch.
“I tell you what I do know.” Pooch looked at Jensen. “We need to get rid of him. He has got to go, man!”
Jensen blinked, and then a broad grin spread across his face as Pooch’s words registered. Finally, he had an accomplice, someone else who had seen Shithead for what he was.
A shithead.
“Welcome aboard, Pooch.” Jensen leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head “Welcome aboard.”
****
Chapter 7 Part 1
#too loose and you'll lose it#jake jensen x ofc#jake jensen x original female character#jake jensen#ssholidaychallenge#the losers
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Made of Iron, Born of Fire: The Fanmix
by @imgoingtocrash
Listen on Spotify and 8tracks
Read the series on Ao3
AKA: A labor of love for @savvysass’s birthday!!!!
What can I say that hasn’t already been said because we’re both incredibly sappy people in our Author’s Notes? Writing this series with you has brought me so much joy in the last two years, and I never could have hit over 100k words without you. Here’s to whatever we write next in the series...and all of the WIPs we’re working on right now...and only god knows what’s next for us personally and professionally...and most importantly, to you on your Birthday. Thank you for being such a good friend, in both fandom and outside of it. I’m so, so thankful to know you and love you. 🥰
Director’s Cut Below, because we all know I love talking about this series, and yes, that does extend to why I picked these songs. (And also maybe because these song choices only make sense in my brain and hopefully Savannah’s?? Who knows! Feel free to ask questions if you want but let’s be honest this series and fanmix are most importantly for us, because we love the series so dang much.)
My Wildest Dreams by Ron Pope
I spoke in riddles and in rhymes, but my time with you has taught me to simplify, you’re not quite what I pictured you would be, you’re better than my wildest dreams.
We’ve talked about this one before, and I’LL TALK ABOUT IT AGAIN!!!! Ron Pope is so good imo, and this song wowowow the father-child feels, but especially with Tony and newborn Peter a la A Foreign Feeling and A First Time For Everything.
Big & Scared by Raleigh Ritchie
I want to be better for you, let me do that now, you’re my favorite human, so you should be prepared, I’ll help you get through it, when you’re big and scared
We’ve mentioned Tony’s thoughts about legacy multiple times by now, and I think this song really represents Tony looking forward to the person Peter could be become and that “breaking the cycle” mentality of supporting Peter even when he’s not a perfect father.
Legacy of Sadness by Ron Pope
irrational as it may seem I guess I’m sorry, even though I know that none of it’s my fault, it is easier for me to count my blessings, than to cry for every single thing we’ve lost
I have 0 shame putting these two songs by Ron Pope almost back to back because they’re the opening and closing of an album dedicated to his child like...it’s so perfect for Tony and this theme of reflection on who he is and who Peter will become/is becoming and all that entails.
this is me trying by Taylor Swift
They told me all of my cages were mental, so I got wasted like all my potential, and my words shoot to kill when I'm mad, I have a lot of regrets about that
I wrote something...very sad but also soft recently??? and this is for That it’s about pre-CW Pepperony being separated and the road to them trying to come back together including Tony working on himself and I love it!!! It hurts really good!!! This whole song is perfect for it and I can’t wait until people get to read it.
Be Good When I’m Gone by Four Year Strong
I'm sorry I can't stop to listen, but I've got so much to do and I've got some place to be, the house looks like the aftermath of a hurricane, I hope it stays that way
Tony being a busy parent but doing his best to make time for Peter in his life and making that time count has been something super important to illustrate to us, especially the transition from being a CEO to being a superhero and how that changes how Peter sees Tony’s absence over time.
I Won’t Back Down by Johnnyswim, Drew Holcomb & The Neighbors, and Penny and Sparrow
Tony puts on the original version by Tom Petty in Home Is Where The Heart Is, but I think this cover has a very slow, emotional undertone that’s really great too. The interludes, if you didn’t catch it, have all been featured in a fic previously.
Let It Matter by Johnnyswim
So if it matters let it matter, if your heart's breaking let it ache, catch those pieces as they scatter, know your hurt is not in vain
Pepper in Never Tell Me The Odds ALL DAYYYYY. She’s the emotional rock of that fic (and of our Ironfam TBH) and it’s all because she allows herself to feel her feelings and encourages the Stark boys to do so as well.
Simmer - Acoustic by Hayley Williams
And if my child, needed protection, from a fucker like that man, I’d sooner gut him, cause nothing cuts like a mother
Post-Home Is Where The Heart Is...y’all know Pepper’s not that mad about what happened to Obie. Also just Pepper when someone hurts her family?? I always write it as her sort of putting all of her emotion into something she can control and doing it well, so, this song is all about that.
Tightrope by Nia Hendricks
one step after another, keep holding on to each other, don’t look back, move on and let go, that’s how you walk on a tightrope
Pepperony trying to navigate their relationship and the insanity of superhero stuff and also co-parenting. It’s all excellent, I love them so much, I enjoy writing it so much!!!!
Dancing With Your Ghost by Sasha Sloan
Never got the chance, to say a last goodbye, I gotta move on, but it hurts to try, how do I love, how do I love again?
This song is tilted towards romance, but if you’ll remember, we’re a Pro-Tony Survives Endgame AU series, so it’s not about THAT...but well...Infinity War sure will hit something fierce for certain non-romantic relationships in this series, huh?
The Bones by Maren Morris
Call it dumb luck, but baby, you and I, can't even mess it up, although we both try, no, it don't always go the way we planned it, but the wolves came and went and we're still standing
Post-Endgame Ironfam!!! Tony and Pepper married with their kids, their family and HAPPY...THIS IS WHY WE DO ALL OF THE ANGST...FOR A FAMILY...WE LOVE THEM
Carry on Wayward Son by Kansas
Considered Pepper and Peter’s ‘song’, as it’s referenced multiple times in the series, and was one of the bigger solidifying moments of their mother-son relationship as a whole.
Mundane by Hardcastle
And I’ve been sinking into silence, dwelling on my thoughts, and in these months, I haven’t felt that most conversations have left me anything but blue
Peter’s selective mutism was something very special to us when we originally had the idea, and making sure we talk about it and utilize it in the right way is something we’re still working on, particularly with the Therapy Fic we’re brainstorming atm.
survivin’ (One Eyed Jack’s Session) by Bastille
What can I say? I'm survivin', crawling out these sheets to see another day, what can I say? I'm survivin', and I'm gonna be fine, I'm gonna be fine, I think I'll be fine
Spoiler Alert: Peter’s not fine, like, a decent amount of the time. But he’s sure trying, and we love him for that.
Jacob from the Bible by Jake Wesley Rogers
Mama, don't worry, it took me years, to say I'm sorry, to see your tears, Mama, forgive me, I grew up too fast, but it's not on you, it's in the past
Mostly part of Peter growing up to become a hero and realizing what his parents--particularly Pepper--have gone through for him to become the person he is today, but that sometimes he still doesn’t feel like he’s making them proud enough.
Compassion Is a German Word by To Kill A King
Don't be so arrogant, you ain't no different to anyone I've met, we're all the heroes in our own film, or maybe the villain in someone else's
Spider-Man being an excellent superhero boi!!! Being kind and good!!! We love it!! Also, I put a TKAK song on...a LOT of my playlists, because I think they’re great.
brutal by Olivia Rodrigo
And I'm so sick of seventeen, where's my fucking teenage dream?, if someone tells me one more time, "Enjoy your youth", I'm gonna cry
I mean...this song is such a Teenage Mood...I had to do it...
In The Wee Small Hours Of The Morning by Frank Sinatra
So, I had this cute little scene in my head that went with this song for SO LONG but there wasn’t really anything for it to fit into so...yeah that’s part 2 of Savannah’s Birthday Gift, a little soft Baby Peter drabble. Fluffy Goop from top to bottom. That can be read here.
Home by Phillip Phillips
Just know you're not alone, 'Cause I'm gonna make this place your home
...I know it’s not original, okay? It’s found family, it’s great, I don’t care!
Comes and Goes (In Waves) by Greg Laswell
And this part was for her, and this part was for her, this part was for her, does she remember?
This song is good family angst in general BUT these specific lyrics made me think of Mary and that they never forget her in their lives despite the other stuff going on (because we refuse to let them).
I Have Made Mistakes by The Oh Hellos
I have made mistakes, I continue to make them, the promises I've made, I continue to break them, and all the doubts I've faced, I continue to face them, but nothing is a waste if you learn from it
No one in the Ironfam is perfect, but they all do their best to try and grow even when they’re scared they’ll never be able to. The ups and downs are all par for the course of this series to us.
Easy Days - Demo by Bastille
Cause I don’t wanna fall back again, back into the easy days, everything was so simple then, little fires burned away
Strife is a part of life, and the family in this fic growing through their loss and struggles and moving ahead as a unit to get to a better place is super central to making the fic what it is...but it’s easy for them to remember the old days before being superheroes and wishing it was simple again.
North by Sleeping At Last
Let the years we’re here be kind, be kind, let our hearts like doors open wide, open wide, settle our bones like wood over time, over time, give us bread, give us salt, give us wine
The way Tony went from feeling so alone to having an entire built family that’s so full of love and everything he never dreamed of...*screams into my pillow* I love this series so much thank you and good night!!!
#made of iron born of fire#irondad#ironfam#fanmix#savvysass#this series just makes me burst with content i can't describe it#also doing the graphics was a fun experiment!!!#mine#mine: marvel
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Like can you imagine Yakko, who’s dealing with the passing of his wife, drew two toon children that he thought would’ve been what any children with his wife would’ve looked like, and then hours later he comes home to find out that the toons have come off the page and now are actual children?
I imagine he immediately calls up Bugs to tell him about what’s happened, and he’s looking for advice, but Bugs just goes like “eh shit happens sometimes, ya got two kids now though, good luck!” and then Bugs hangs up the phone (he does actually come and help him after this, dw). He gets help from several of his past co-stars, and even some of the now grown Tiny Toons help him because they were all very close at one point or another. And to know so many people are willing to help him, Yakko feels so much better.
It does take him a while to warm up to Wakko and Dot, though. At first, he wants to put them back on the paper and never see them again, and when that doesn’t work, he tries getting them to leave. He bribes them with ice cream and candy and tells them to spend some time at the park, but they come back, and he feels bad not letting them back inside the house so he always gives in. And honestly? He kind of likes having them around. Sure, he doesn’t have proper clothes or space for them in his small apartment, but he just can’t seem to actually let them go.
Then one day, when they’ve all come home from a rather tiring day of Yakko trying to get rid of them, Yakko’s just sitting on his worn out couch trying to catch his breath, Wakko and Dot come by and curl up on either side of him. Wakko falls asleep fast, but Dot, with eyes barely open and a small smile, looks up at him and tells him “I really like you.” And that’s what does it. Yakko watches her fall asleep in his arm and he knows he can’t not keep them.
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Fic: The Honey Trap (4/?)
Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)
Story Summary: Peggy’d lost count. She wasn’t sure if she was a double or triple agent at this point, and in the end, it didn’t matter. What mattered was getting out of this alive.
Chapter Summary: She almost couldn’t breathe sometimes with how much it hurt to sit and wait, knowing her coworkers were now snickering behind her back at the made-up stories, and knowing none of them understood how much she cared for that 98 pound man who’d stuttered at her in the backseat of a car as he called her beautiful.
Chapter A/N: Again, eyes to the time stamps. :) Progress will be slow and steady with this, and likely interrupted by Steggy Week on Tumblr, but it is far from abandoned. Thank you for all the support with this so far.
Chapter 4: The Theatrics
October 1944
Peggy pulled the door of the bathroom shut behind her, finally letting out a shaky breath as she flipped the lock into place. She nearly stumbled to the sink, leaning her hands on the cold porcelain.
She needed something to ground her.
She looked up into the mirror, and knew it was a mistake.
Her eyes gave it all away, at least to her. They told volumes of how much it hurt, how much she was lying. She needed to get that under control, and fast, or the last four weeks of work were lost.
It hadn’t been difficult, at first, to slip into the typing pool. The work was boring and tedious but necessary, and she at least could make herself feel somewhat better knowing she was still doing important work for the war effort while she sat and waited for Wallace.
But after a few days, word got around and her co-workers got bold.
First it was Mary, at the next typewriter over, asking casually if Peggy had a beau. Then Florence from across the aisle piped in that she’d heard Peggy knew Captain America. She couldn’t exactly deny it, she needed word to get around so Wallace had a reason to talk to her, to pull her into Hydra, so she tried avoiding it. She hemmed and hawed, tried to look both lovelorn and sad.
She found that wasn’t too hard: she missed Steve terribly and the last image she had of him was burned into her brain. His sad, broken blue eyes watching her leave after smacking him wouldn’t leave her.
But then some of her co-workers got audacious.
She’d been under cover before, even deep cover where she’d had to say and do things she didn’t believe in or would have never done as herself to get information or to get what she needed. She knew this was no exception. But she’d never been in a situation where what she was lying about was so close to the truth. Pretending to betray crown and country was part of the job. She’d believed this would be no different.
Except the first time she heard one of the guys in the mailroom joke about her ‘serving under Captain America’ she felt all the air rush from her like she’d been punched in the chest.
The jokes and insinuations got bolder and filthier and just like every other female in the place, she didn’t have much she could do about it besides take it.
But every comment hidden in a joke, every insinuation that she was easy, every filthy wink and every invasive question kept the wound of leaving Steve fresh, kept the fear of him not waiting for her, of him eventually believing her betrayal, wide open.
She almost couldn’t breathe sometimes with how much it hurt to sit and wait, knowing her coworkers were now snickering behind her back at the made-up stories, and knowing none of them understood how much she cared for that 98 pound man who’d stuttered at her in the backseat of a car as he called her beautiful.
She tried to separate it, to tell herself that she’d fallen in love with Steve, that he was the man waiting for her and missing her, and that the Peggy Carter she was playing had been betrayed and played by the famous “Captain America.” It rarely worked, though.
What she did know was that it was easy now to look sad and lost and just a little bit desperate as she struggled to make friends in the typing pool. She’d come into it thinking she’d have to be standoffish, that she’d have to force the story Wallace so desperately needed to let them infiltrate Hydra, but she was sickened at how easy it was to simply let it happen and how well her co-workers played into it.
Peggy ran the cold water and let her wrists sit under it until it was almost painful, enough to recenter her and bring her mind back into focus. She’s seen Wallace around the building, but he still hadn’t made contact.
There was still so much to be done, and no room for her own life and needs to get in the way, not with Hydra still a threat.
~*~
November, 1944
She strolled the street, arm in arm with Wallace. He was rambling on about taking her somewhere to dinner, but she just kept a tight smile on her face.
She couldn’t let him know her heart skipped a beat every time she saw a set of broad shoulders and blonde hair on every GI that passed them in the street. She couldn’t let him know she was both terrified and excited about maybe seeing Steve because she knew the 107th was in London.
“Maggie?”
His voice, and concerned gaze, shook her out of her reverie. She still didn’t answer to Maggie right away, but she’d asked him to call her that. Sometimes his tone was just a little too close to Steve’s and it made her heart ache when he called her “Peg.”. She smiled up at him. “Sorry, lost in the clouds for a second.”
He hid his concern well, but she could still see the quick flicker of his eyes. “Ah, that’s my Maggie.” He laughed it off, knowing they were being watched by Hydra. He’d been romancing her for two weeks now, and Hydra was still unsure if they could trust her. Wallace was trying to keep from pushing too hard, and she knew she needed to make a convincing sell to the men who were listening to their wire for the next few dates. “Always got her beautiful head in the clouds.”
If he’d been a real suitor, she would have stepped away, unlinked their arms, and marched herself right home. As it was, she could only smile. “Oh, you know me so well.” She tried to make her voice light, but she knew it was still tight and clipped. “What had you asked?”
He turned her down the next block and pointed at two restaurants only a few doors down from each other, smiling. “Pub or French Bistro?”
They went to dinner here often, the Hydra surveillance team was centered in a building on the corner, and it made it easy for them to listen in. Peggy bit her lip and pretended to think hard between the places after she saw the curtain on the window at the corner move. She hated being watched. Though she liked the idea of wasting Hydra’s money and resources on a French bistro, she knew the poor place had just as few resources as the pub, and at least at the pub there might be more noise, more distraction. She couldn’t make it easy, though. “Oh, Richard,” she started, sounding exasperated and pulling at this coat, “We’ve come down here for dinner nearly every time we’ve been out. What about the little Italian place a few blocks down? Or a good old fish and chip?”
Richard Wallace smiled. He was a good sport, and great undercover agent. Despite her anxiety, she felt safe working with him, and he always seemed to know exactly which tactic she was taking right when she was taking it. “Aw, Mags, I was just…” he laughed anxiously, but his eyes glinted. “I know I get a little predictable sometimes, but maybe next time, ok? I was hoping you’d say the bistro this time, and maybe we could have a nice dinner, just the two of us.”
She looked at the bistro façade sadly, her eyes catching the movement in the apartment window again. She squeezed his arm and he squeezed back. “I just… what with the rationing, it just makes me sad every time I go in and it doesn’t taste the same.”
“I know,” he turned, pulling her back against the brick behind them to allow other pedestrians to pass, nodding his head. “And a Sheppard’s pie always tastes the same, no matter what.”
“Quite,” she finished with a smile.
“It’s just…” he reached down and held her hand, then tapped out a few letters in morse code against her palm as he took a slow, deep breath for their eves droppers to hear. Say no he tapped out, smiling at her. “I was just hoping if I romanced you a bit, you’d see how serious I am about you. That I’m ready to take everything to the next level.”
She didn’t have to feign the distraction, the way her eyes turned sharply from his across the street. It wasn’t Steve, but Barnes and Dugan who drew her eye, the laugh of the latter ringing out bright on the dreary night. They didn’t see her, but it was enough to send her into a tailspin.
“Maggie, are you…”
“The soldiers…” she bit out quickly, turning back to him. “There are just so many tonight. Why are there so many?” She used the anxiety, let it fuel her as she pressed forward. “Do you think there will be an attack?”
“Maggie, I…”
“I’ve been so nervous all day,” she clutched at his hands, squeezing tight. Up close, as she was, she could see the concern in his eyes for her. “When I was on the front, I knew what was coming. But now? Now I know nothing and I can’t stand not knowing and all you want to talk about is dating and duck a l’Orange?” She huffed, turning on her heel. “Richard, I—”
“I’ll take you home,” he interjected, turning her swiftly and moving her forward. “I didn’t mean to push.”
“No, I- I’m sorry. I’ve just been so nervous.” She stopped and took his hand gently. “I do like you, Richard.” She swallowed hard, but said the words she didn’t want to say anyway. “I was hurt, badly. And so very, very recently.” She looked down and away, with her head at just enough of an angle to see that their audience had ceased trying to hide and was watching inconspicuously from the window. “I just don’t know if I’m ready for that again.”
He lifted her chin with his hand, looking at her. “I’m not gonna hurt you, Maggie. Not like he did.”
She stared at him for a moment, then squeezed his hand. “You’re right. I think it’s best I go home tonight.”
“I’ll walk you, then,” he replied gently, moving them forward slowly.
You ok? He tapped out on her hand gently as they moved along the sidewalk.
Fine. She tapped back, head held high and straight forward.
They both knew it wasn’t the truth.
~*~
That Night
Dugan sat across from Barnes in the small Pub, eyeing his hat as the two men waited for their drinks. “You saw her, too, didn’t you?” he nearly whispered.
“I’m pretty sure it’s why Stevie didn’t want to come out tonight. He knows she’s here. Didn’t want to bump into her.” Barnes smiled up at the waiter as he dropped the mugs of beer off, pulling one towards him and taking a long pull. He winced at the warmth, but took another sip as warm beer was better than no beer.
Dugan winced himself, but was likewise undeterred. He looked at Barnes and folded his hands. “You ever get a clear story outta him about what happened?”
Bucky shook his head and looked away, smiling at a woman standing by the bar with her friend. “No.” He turned back to Dugan when another GI stepped up to the girl and her attention was pulled elsewhere. “No, I—” He sighed and stalled for time with another long drink. “Same bullshit he’s telling everyone.”
“Which is bullshit,” Dugan added, leaning on the table. “We both know the two of them weren’t just some… some…”
“She’s not some two-bit hussy sleeping with soldiers and Steve’s not an idiot.” Bucky bit out, remembering her face as he left her behind the mess, eyes wide with hurt and betrayal. “Stupid,” he mumbled, taking another sip, “but not an idiot.” Bucky shook his head and winced. “And neither is Phillips. No way the old man missed that clip in the newsreels.”
Dugan laughed, running his finger up and down the side of the mug, playing with the condensation. “Right? I was shocked as hell he let that get through.”
The two men were quiet for a moment, content to sip their warm beer and be anywhere other than a tented army base.
Bucky leaned back, spinning his empty mug and signaling for a refill. He let out a harsh sigh and shook his head as he pulled on his ear. “You don’t think… nah.”
Dugan chuckled and leaned forward. “That Phillips let that slip for a reason?”
Bucky leaned forward on the table in a flash, whispering. “It’s the only thing that makes sense- But, why?”
The men leaned back, silent, as the waiter dropped two more mugs on the table and took away the empty ones. They were ready for the warm, flat beer this time as they each took a sip, waiting and thinking.
“She is a spy,” Dugan started quietly. “Maybe she needed an out, or a cover, or something like that?”
Barnes shook his head, cradling his beer close to him. “But why drag Steve into it? Why all the theatrics?”
“She, uh…” Dugan swallowed hard and seemed a little uncomfortable bringing the obvious up. “She was with some guy. They did seem… close.”
Barnes slowly swallowed a mouthful of the beer, face sour. “I don’t like this at all.”
“The beer or the situation?” Dugan asked, trying to lighten the mood.
He winced. “Neither of them, any more than you like it.”
In one swift move Dugan drained the rest of his beer and stood, setting his bowler on his head. “C’mon. If she’s out an about, we better go keep him company inside somewhere before he gets into trouble.”
Bucky stood and drained his own mug, following out as he mumbled, “Stupid fool always seems to be getting himself in trouble, no matter what I do.”
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Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden~ Chapter 13 - Year 2: September
(ao3 link)
King’s Cross station was buzzing with life just as it always was. Crowds were pulling in all directions, making it difficult to follow a specific current. Still, Anakin and his mum navigated the onslaught of people with practiced experience that came more from Shmi’s instincts rather than Anakin’s. It was for this reason that he allowed her to hold his hand as she swam them upstream until they arrived between platforms 9 and 10.
“Now, mum, this is difficult for me to say, but I’m the chosen one now. I’ve got a reputation to uphold. So, while I don’t mind holding your hand, I don’t need anyone else thinking their chosen one is a wuss.”
She raised her eyebrows at him, “Is that so?”
“It’s a shame, it is.” He said with a nod, “We had some good times.”
Shmi snorted, “Who does Spider-Man love and protect more than anyone else in the whole world?”
“His Aunt May.” He said, surprised that his mother would even doubt him knowing that, “Who’s like a mother to him. During the clone saga arc of the Amazing Spider-Man comic run, Aunt May died! Well, we all thought it was her, but-”
“-Exactly,” She smiled, “And would you call Spider-Man weak?”
“Of course not,” He scoffed, “He can take down the entire Sinister Six all by himself!”
“Anakin, even heroes are allowed to love their mothers. Only a fool would brand you weak for that.”
And with that, she clasped Anakin’s hand tightly and led him through the brick wall that divided his two realities. He couldn’t really find much else to say on that, because she’d bested him in his own language. He might have pondered about how unfair this was, but was far too distracted by the tingly feeling that permeated through him as he caught sight of the Hogwarts Express again.
When he tried to push further into the crowd of wizards, who all said their goodbyes to their parents before getting aboard the train, his mother’s grasp tightened a bit.
“Mum?” He looked up at her to see that her eyes were teary, though she ran her arm along her face in a quick attempt to hide this. “What’s wrong?”
She knelt down to be at his level, “Nothing’s wrong, dear. It’s just… Don’t try to grow up too fast on me, okay?”
He wanted to make that promise, but everyday Anakin learned something new about who he was and what he could do. Even just doing his homework this summer made him feel inspired by his own gifts. He could see in his mother’s eyes that she saw the same thing. Still, he wanted nothing more than to take that melancholic look from her.
“I told you I’ll never grow too old for you, mum, and I meant that. Even when I save the world, I’ll still love you.”
She brushed his bangs, which had grown a bit longer, out of his eyes and kept his face between her hands, “I know, my darling, but you know I worry.”
“But why?” He had to try one more time. He really believed that his mother might share more about her experiences in the wizarding world with the prophecy becoming public information. He was wrong on that account.
Instead, she just seemed to only grow sadder.
“Ani, the only thing harder than being the chosen one expected of all this responsibility and heroics, is to be the mother that must let her child fulfill that.”
He blinked, “I’ll be safe, I promise.”
“Do not make promises you cannot keep,” She sighed.
“I can try.” He said quietly.
“And I’ll hold you to that,” She smiled and stood back to her feet, “I look forward to hearing of all the safe adventures you embark on.”
He returned her smile, though couldn’t help but notice that she still seemed quite forlorn. He wished they had more time to talk about it. He still wished he could bring her with him, try as he might to seem like he didn’t.
Behind her, some of his classmates waved excitedly at him and whispered amongst themselves to their parents, likely saying exactly who Anakin was. He smiled back and then looked back to his mother’s curious eyes.
“And remember those who chose you before this prophecy did.” She said.
“How could I forget- Oh, hey Ferus! Good to see you!” He cut himself off to wave to an older student that regarded him from across the platform.
His mum kissed his forehead and he didn’t resist too much for her sake (or that’s what he told himself), “I love you, Anakin. I’ll see you again soon.”
“Love you too!” Anakin chirped and then turned to the train, still awestruck at how magnificent it truly was. Sometimes, he struggled to realize the fact that this got to be his life.
He turned around once more on the edge of the train, waving proudly at his mum.
It was going to be a great year.
***
Rex had to resist rolling his eyes in good nature over his best friend’s obvious liking to the sudden stardom he’d risen to. He could understand why, on some level, everyone had taken a sudden interest in Anakin. The chosen one prophecy had existed longer than any of the other orbs in the Ministry of Magic. Valorum, the Minster, himself, did an entire exposé where he discussed just how untouched the prophecies had been for the past millennia.
And sure, it did sound rather incredible what was going to happen, if anyone ever got around to deciphering what it meant. To Rex, Anakin was always going to be just Anakin- his best friend and co-conspirator, whose tongue turned fat whenever talking to a certain Gryffindor third year girl.
Speaking of such, Anakin was going to have a conniption when he noticed Padmé and her group of girls were in the compartment just across the way from the one Rex chose. Since he already knew he was going to ask, he claimed Echo and Fives’ extendable ear in an attempt to listen in.
The engine on the locomotive let out one final warning call, alerting any stragglers to get their bums into high gear lest they miss the train altogether. Rex had never known anyone to do so, but Fives and Echo allegedly had a classmate their first year who missed the train and no one ever saw him again.
Whether or not that was true or just a means of them getting him out of bed early, was debatable. Hogwarts was full of strange urban legends.
Finally, Anakin meandered his way down the aisle, stopping to talk to every single person who called out to him. This time, Rex did roll his eyes, especially as Anakin was even conferring with Asajj Ventress, who was nothing but nasty about him the previous year.
Really, he hoped all of this wouldn’t get to his head.
Surprisingly enough, when Anakin walked past Padmé’s compartment and into the one Rex occupied, he offered little more than a polite greeting after the girl said hello. Instead, he sat down across from Rex without much explanation. He didn’t even look the least bit flustered after encountering Padmé of all people.
“Rex!” Anakin said cheerily.
“I’m sorry, are you daft?” Rex shot back with a questioning look.
“What?” His friend stared back blankly.
“Are you daft?” Rex repeated slowly and then leaned forward to whisper, “Do you not see who’s right over there? I thought you would be over the moon right now! In fact, why aren’t you over the moon right now?”
“Because I’m over all of that,” Anakin waved off, “Is Padmé the most beautiful girl in the entire world? Yes, but I’m gonna be busy with all of this world-saving I’ve got to do.”
“Oh brother,” Rex leaned back in his seat, “You’re kidding me.”
“I’m serious!” Anakin squeaked and then leaned forward to shut the compartment door so they had more privacy to discuss this, “She’s still the love of my life, but I’ve made my peace that I can’t have her.”
“Okay, so you’re giving up.”
“Not giving up.” Anakin said, “Heroes don’t give up.”
Rex’s frown deepened as he considered the cocky Gryffindor across from him, “Kinda sounds like giving up to me.”
“My mum got me thinking about Spider-Man.”
“You’re losing me, mate.” Rex groaned.
“So,” Anakin sat up, “Superheroes can’t have girlfriends or boyfriends, because then the villains use them as a pawn to get to the hero. I already have my mum! I can’t risk having anyone else that Dooku could use to foil my plans of foiling his plans.”
“Why the bloody hell would Dooku care about a tween romance?” Rex asked, “Particularly a one-sided one?”
“Because that’s how bad guys work, Rex!” Anakin insisted, “Trust me on this, because I’m an expert.”
“Because let me guess, you’re the chosen one.” Rex returned.
“Well, yeah, but mostly because I’ve done my homework on that account.”
“If by homework, I’m sure you mean watching copious amounts of television.” Obi-Wan drawled as he leaned against the now-open compartment. Even as a prefect, he was the only student fully dressed in his robes already. Rex was unsure how he didn’t notice him standing there.
“You don’t even know what television is!” Anakin countered in a high-pitched voice that drew the girls’ attention from across the way. He sat back and grimaced at their muffled giggles.
“I do so.” Obi-Wan said, “I just don’t understand the full logistics of it.”
It was true, most wizards didn’t know much on the technological aspects of the muggle world. From what Anakin told Rex about television and electricity, it all sounded very exciting and thrilling. They were clearly missing out on something pretty great and Satine gave great indication of this too, even if her idea of exciting programming probably wasn’t the same as Rex’s.
“Please tell Mr. Chosen One that giving up on love simply because an orb decided to glow for him is utterly ridiculous.” Rex said.
“If anything, Obi-Wan would support my decision to side on the airs of rationale.”
Obi-Wan snorted, “Perhaps, if you were considering this on a school-level, but not to become a hero in tights.”
“I would look good in tights.” Anakin argued, which only told Rex that he likely had a version of his own superhero image sketched out somewhere. If someone was going to see it, it was going to be Rex.
“No one looks good in tights.” And Obi-Wan said that like he unfortunately had experience on this matter, “Anyway, remain in your seats, boys, we’re heading out soon.”
When he shut the door behind him, Anakin scowled, “Why would you tell him about my plan to sacrifice love? I don’t want it getting around!”
“Who’s he going to tell?” Rex asked, “My brother? Satine? Those are the only people he talks to.”
“Yeah,” Anakin said, “You have a point there.”
Rex caught him sneaking a small wave in Padmé’s direction.
***
When Obi-Wan finally entered the compartment he usually shared with Cody and Satine, he dropped down into his seat with a sigh.
“Mate, the term hasn’t even started yet.” Cody teased, “Don’t stress me out with your stress.”
“On the plus side, no potions for you this year.” Obi-Wan smiled, “As for me, I just didn’t sleep well last night, which is strange, since it’s usually my best sleep of the summer.”
“I know the feeling.” Cody grinned, “This season of Quidditch is going to be insane! It’s going to be Gryffindor’s big comeback year, I tell you, and here’s why:”
Obi-Wan allowed his best friend to go on his lengthy rant about just why Gryffindor was going to pull through that year, which included the fact that Rex was going to try out and show up all the other second year tryouts, especially with how hard Cody trained him that summer. Other than that, he lost Obi-Wan in a lot of random dribble that didn’t really register, considering Cody was still trying to be vague about his plan.
“Can’t exactly squeal the goods to you, mate. You are technically a House Cup champion, after all.”
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, “Yes, of course, well, get your rants out now before Satine joins us. You know she’s not nearly as keen to listen to this as I am.”
“Where is she, anyway?” Cody asked, “I’d hate for you to be the only prefect with a stick up their bum this year.”
“Rest assured, she’s in the restroom getting changed.” He said, “Not without teasing me for arriving dressed in my robes.”
“It is hot outside, you know.”
“And you know that the clothes my parents would have me wear would have me teased forever.” He retorted.
“Yeah, you can’t afford that after the-”
“-Pajamas, I know. Satine mentioned it in about seven letters this summer to remind me. Anakin hadn’t even seen them and mentioned them too. I swear, you all need new material.”
“And so do you,” Cody snorted, “New clothing material, that is.”
Obi-Wan groaned, “That was pitiful.”
“Really? Because I found it quite funny.” He said, “Not as funny as Ventress’s face is going to be when Gryffindor takes the house cup and shakes up the entire division by-”
Obi-Wan was more than happy to allow him to continue, letting his eyes drift to peer down the aisle of the train, catching a glimpse of Satine as she walked their way, robe in hand. When they’d been to Diagon Alley just a couple weeks prior, he’d of course noticed that she’d… Matured over the summer. However, seeing her in the uniforms that she wore practically every day was something of a divine intervention.
She always carried herself with confidence, but it seemed like the rest of her caught up to such a bold nature. He suddenly found himself feeling very childish in comparison- all skin and bones- while she no longer looked like the young girl that occasionally had him flustered. He couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious about how starkly different they seemed now.
She looked sophisticated, wise beyond her years, and utterly brilliant.
Her legs looked like they went on for days.
He shook his head, trying to bring himself back into the present, but only found his face grow red as she drew nearer. He wasn’t even sure if Cody was still excitedly talking, as the boy only would go on until he was stopped. He never ran out of things to say about Quidditch.
Whatever spell he’d been under broke the moment someone whistled as Satine walked by, causing her to turn to them and spit back in retaliation. Obi-Wan felt himself see red for a different reason entirely. It seemed as she passed, even more people took notice of how much she’d transformed over the summer.
And many of the boys, including the seventh years, liked what they saw.
Obi-Wan did not like the way that made him feel.
“Can you believe the utter buffoonery?” Satine groaned as she sat down beside Obi-Wan, cutting Cody off from his rant about defensive measures in overtime.
“Can you be more specific?” Cody asked without missing a beat.
“These… Arseholes are acting like they’ve never seen me before.” She said, adjusting her skirt and then looking at Obi-Wan, which he averted his gaze immediately, “It’s like they all woke up with their heads on backwards.”
“It’s extremely inappropriate.” Obi-Wan found himself agreeing with a little too much enthusiasm that drew a cocked eyebrow from Cody. “She’s a person for God’s sake! Not to mention a prefect. It’s like you’re some kind of walking carnival act for them to gawk at.”
“It’s just because they think you’re hot now.” Cody said with a shrug, “They’ll get over it.”
“That doesn’t make it right.” Satine said. “And I haven’t gotten hot. I haven’t done anything!”
“Exactly!” Obi-Wan said, and cringed as Satine glared at him.
“You don’t need to always be so agreeable, you know.” She snapped.
“Well, what would you rather I do? Hoot and holler like some sort of invalid?” He retorted, opening a book on his lap to hopefully distract from how red his face was, “For the record, I’ve always thought you looked quite fit. Didn’t you, Cody?”
Cody, who had been staring very intensely at the candy cart, snapped back to them, “Oh- er, yes, sure.”
“Very convincing stuff, boys.” She grimaced, “Thank you.”
Obi-Wan sighed, “Yes, well, I still maintain that they’re all idiots.”
“I’m sure you do.” Cody said.
It was going to be a long train ride.
***
Ventress glowered as she watched more students gather around Skywalker’s compartment, asking eager questions about what he’d done with his summer. It was pitiful to see how the masses swarmed to their newest morsel of gossip and intrigue like they were quite literally dependent on it for sustenance. They would suck the life out of Skywalker until he had nothing else to give, turning on him in seconds flat. In a way, she knew what that felt like better than anyone- to be used.
Her culture, her people, was familiar with it. It was engraved in their history to be cast to the sidelines in favor of a more civilized age. They were marked savages, heathens, monsters while the filth known as muggles got to parade about and mock them with pointy hats, cartoonish movies, and stereotypes that only fueled the fire of their isolation.
Relegated to the castle that approached from over the hill- not allowed to flaunt their gifts amongst the whole world, to display dominance. It was vile.
Wizards, after all, did the proper thing if their child was born without magic. They didn’t allow them to go and ruin someone else’s culture. Ventress always believed in nature as opposed to nurture and all the nurture in the world couldn’t make a muggle-born an actual witch or wizard. It just wasn’t possible.
She knew how people saw her. Her bone white face, icy blue eyes, and close-cropped white hair made her stand out in a crowd. While her family never spoke of it, she represented the witches of olde- not nearly as posh and significantly more malicious than what proper wizards prefer to display at the surface.
Where muggles would have thrown her to the gallows, the elite purebloods took her in.
Skywalker was a fool for believing he was lucky. In fact, the stark realization between how people treated him now vs. the year before (when no one cared or knew that he existed) would have been startling to anyone with a working brain. However, the little second year just continued to eat up the fact that he was chosen.
Ventress knew something about that as well and considered, as she absently doodled in the top corner of the open spell book on her lap, how it wasn’t always what it was cut out to be.
“You think he’s going to be a problem this year?” Faro Argyus asked as he leaned back in the seat opposite to hers.
Faro always looked like he smelled something bad. To his credit, this time might actually ring true.
She sighed, unsure when she agreed to having him sit in her compartment at all, “If you truly believe some snotty little second year is going to pose any true threat to you, Argyus, perhaps you aren’t as tough as you believe you are.”
He growled, “I’m not talking about Quidditch.”
“I never said that you were.” She leaned on her hand as she looked at him.
His face needed work, but he was quite chiseled otherwise and even Ventress could appreciate that. Luckily, he was about as smart as a forest troll, so he never exuded much critical thinking. If he did, she believed the sky would truly open up and rain pigs on them all.
“To answer your original question,” She added and folded up her book nicely, “I think Skywalker is a walking problem in general.”
“I wish he’d start up that cheating ring again.” He huffed and shifted in his seat, “Maybe come up with one that’ll take care of NEWT’s.”
“That wasn’t even him.” She rolled her eyes, “That was the muggle-born from Calgary.”
“Figures.” He sniffed, “Only a muggle-born would get caught.”
“Thank the maker he’s gone.” Shu Mai, a Gossam sixth year with deep gray and wrinkly skin and a long head that curved up, said tactly, “Their lot is lucky they go here at all. If they blow their chance, that should be it.”
Ventress glanced down the aisle to where the incessant do-gooder, Kenobi, and his muggle sidekick, Kryze, shooed away the gathering crowd, saying something of it being against safety measures to be up and standing on a moving train.
Before they, themselves, moved to sit down, they were stopped by a Ravenclaw named Fenn Rau, who seemed quite interested in talking with Kryze about something indistinct. Whatever it was, it made Kenobi’s face go intriguingly dark in a way that Ventress believed suited him. He should tap into it more often to unleash the power that he was truly capable of. However, that was just her opinion.
“Seems Skywalker isn’t the only one gaining more attention this year.” She said and kicked Faro in the shin as she caught his stare lingering on Kryze, “Have you any self-respect?”
“Pretty packaging, that’s all.” He shrugged, but glanced back, “If Kenobi gets a good shag out of her, I’ll get why he’s put in so much time.”
“You’re swine, Faro.” Shu Mai accurately assessed with her heavy-lidded eyes.
“And I’m okay with that.” He said. “Actually, there’s plenty of hot merchandise up for sale this year.”
“I don’t remember asking you to sit with me.” Ventress fired back.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re on the list.” He winked.
“Come anywhere near me and you’ll be turned into an actual piece of merchandise to be immortalized in some generic department store.” She fired off.
Faro blinked, trying to process that, before listing off the many girls he’d taken notice of this year. Shu Mai also looked like she regretted her choice of seat, but that was what happened when your friends were all upperclassmen and graduated already. Ventress thought she would suffer a similar fate, but realized instantly that she was above the sentiment.
Night was approaching outside of the train as stars began to break up darkness’ monotony. Away from all the bustling towns and cars that polluted the sky, they were afforded only a clear display of night as it was intended.
Perhaps, the state of affairs would be just as transparent.
Soon.
***
The train hissed into Hogsmeade station and Anakin and Rex looked up as prefects started opening compartments looking for first years.
“Oh yeah! The boats,” Anakin thought back to his experience the previous year, “That’s just for first years right?”
“Yep, Fives told me they make the rest of us walk, but with the look Echo was giving him I’m assuming that’s not true,” Rex told him as he stood, pulling his shoulder bag off the rack above him.
“I certainly hope not,” Anakin had walked partially to Hogsmeade last year and it hadn’t gone very well at all, “And I doubt they’ll let us break off to use the tunnel.”
“That tunnel was practically longer than walking,” Rex shook his head.
“Hey you lot? Planning on riding all the way back or are you coming to school?” Cody popped his head in waving at the two of them to follow. It seemed Anakin and Rex weren’t the only 2nd years who weren’t sure how they would be traversing to the castle this year, as many of them flocked towards any older students they happened to know.
Anakin ducked as a trunk soared over their heads and slotted itself neatly onto a cart pushed by an old witch Anakin hadn’t seen before. In fact there were several carts all loaded precariously with trunks and rucksacks. One was filled purely with empty owl cages, seemingly having let all their owl friends free. Anakin hadn’t gotten a cage for Artoo yet, but he knew the owl would have no trouble finding Hogwarts as it was his first home after all. He made a note to check up on him later.
“They’re volunteers,” Cody said suddenly and Anakin looked up to see him waving at a few of the older witches and wizards, “Hogsmeade survives off business from the school, although you two aren’t allowed in yet,” He reminded them with a stern look, “Every year they help get our things to the castle so we don’t have to try and squeeze them into-” He didn’t need to finish, and if he did Anakin didn’t hear him. Carriages, pulled by seemingly nothing were dotted along the road, waiting for students to file in. Cody hardly blinked as he grabbed the edge of one and swung on up.
Rex beat Anakin to the edge of the carriage climbing up with a little more caution and a lot more interest than his older brother. Anakin made to follow when someone called his name from behind.
“Skywalker!” A 7th year was calling for him. He was fuzzy on the name, but what did it matter. 7th years ruled the school, in more ways than even his former mentor could. The boy was waving him over, he wanted Anakin to join him and his fellow 7th year friends.
He flicked his gaze back to where Rex was laughing at something Cody had said. Surely Rex wouldn’t miss him, it was only a short distance to the castle after all. He made up his mind and hurried over.
“The name’s Ozzel,” The boy stuck a hand out and Anakin shook it, “Glad to have you, Chosen One,” Anakin felt pride swell like a balloon in his chest as he climbed the steep steps into the carriage.
“Ey, Chosen One!” He ended up being sandwiched between Ozzel and a Hufflepuff girl he didn’t recognize. Across from him was a Hufflepuff boy and two Slytherin girls. He sat as tall as a 12 year old boy could and happily answered a few of the questions he was most often getting asked. Things about the beast that had plagued their school just a year prior or about vanquishing Dooku. When they were finally satisfied Anakin glanced over his shoulder, he’d missed the good view of the castle.
They all stepped off the carriage and waved goodbye to Anakin before looping around the back to enter the Great Hall. Anakin moved to enter as well, but a large hand grabbed his shoulder to stop him. Looking up he was greeted by the stern expression of his least favorite professor.
“Go this way and you’re going to get yourself trampled,” Anakin wrinkled his nose, trying to figure out what on earth Windu was on about as it seemed a little early in the semester for riddles. Windu sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose with his opposite hand, “The carts are pulled by thesterals,” He took Anakin’s hand and brought it forward until it hit something fleshy and cold. Anakin yanked his hand back in shock.
“But, what? They’re invisible!”
“Invisible to some, not all,” The Professor put his hand on what Anakin could only assume was the creatures neck, “Only those who have seen death first hand can see them,” Anakin was just about to ask if Windu could see them when he heard Rex call his name angrily from behind him.
“Where did you go?” He crossed his arms, “Figured we lost you at the station or something.”
“Sorry Rex I-” He thought for a minute before continuing, “I just saw a friend I wanted to say hi to,” Rex didn’t look convinced, but still waved for Anakin to follow him into the Great Hall.
“Sure you did.”
***
The sorting ceremony went on without a hitch as it typically did. It was nice not to have the stress of watching to choose a mentor. Obi-Wan had quickly eaten through the main course of dinner. Meals at Hogwarts were always so warm and inviting, definitely a great way to welcome back students for the year. He was, as usual, a little more interested in the desserts, but before he could grab a second slice of pie a hush drew across the Great Hall.
He turned and gazed up towards the teacher’s stand to see Headmaster Yoda raising his hands in the air, asking for silence.
“Welcome you, I do, back to Hogwarts,” He hummed as the remaining chatter died out, “Many announcements to make, I have,” Many students groaned at that, desperate to have the night to catch up with friends. Yoda was always one who could sense such notions though so he smiled, eyes glinting, “Leave those for later, I will. All but one,” He extended out his hand and an adult, who was sitting at the Professor’s table, stood up. Obi-Wan didn’t recognize the man. He was green, clearly aquatic in nature, with long tendrils extending from his head like hair, “Your new DADA teacher, this is, Professor Kit Fisto.”
The Great Hall all clapped politely, before slowly the atmosphere drifted back towards the meal. The new professor sat down and the Headmaster turned to talk with Mace Windu at his side.
“Kit Fisto,” Satine considered the name, “I haven’t heard of him, haven’t read of him… What about you Ben?”
Ben looked away from her for a moment pondering, “Not that I can recall.”
“So that’s a no then,” Satine sighed. There was very little he couldn’t recall after all. Professor Fisto was probably another retired auror, but before he could continue down his line of possibilities he was nearly shoved to the side as a Ravenclaw 5th year squeezed his way between him and Satine. Obi-Wan had to blink a few times just to make sure that this indeed was reality, while the boy stuck his hand out to Satine.
“Nice to see you again, Satine,” He greeted her, and because Satine was always polite she shook his hand.
“Fenn Rau was it?” Satine asked and Obi-Wan felt like his eyes were glued on their hands until he let hers go, “I helped you with your charms paper last year right?”
“And I’m forever grateful,” His voice sounded awfully cheery to be talking about homework, Obi-Wan thought. Surely he and Satine were the only ones who truly appreciated a good paper. As if just now feeling Obi-Wan’s eyes on the back of his head Fenn turned to shake hands with him as well.
“Of course, I don’t want to leave you out of the loop either, Kenobi,” The boy smiled as Obi-Wan took his hand and gave it a firm shake, not unlike his father’s, “I’m excited to work with you as well, as one of Ravenclaw’s newest prefects,” it was only then that Obi-Wan saw the glint of a prefect’s badge sitting atop the 5th years robes. Perhaps it would be a long year after all.
***
They had all thankfully been given the opportunity to catch up with their friends- exchanging summer anecdotes, talking about the upcoming year, speculating about the mystery that was their new DADA professor. Regardless of their various experiences, everyone could steadily agree that it was good to be back.
Because of the various security breaches from the previous year as well as the actual monster that nearly destroyed the school and those who inhabited it, parents and guardians had justifiable reason to be concerned for the incoming school year. Headmaster Yoda’s answer to this had been to implement a conference day. This allotted time for concerned parents to meet with their child’s professors, view newly implemented security measures, and assuage their fears.
“Safe, our students should feel.” Yoda had announced from his propped podium at breakfast. All of the students were haphazardly mixed together as they always were for meals that were not dinner. Even in the midst of the excited chatter full of catching up from summer break, everyone stopped dead when Yoda began to speak.
Anakin didn’t know what it was about the little green wizard, but he sure knew how to command the room.
“Welcome, all parents are.” He said firmly and cast his bright green eyes across the entire student body, “All blood types, of course.”
He had been, of course, referring to the muggle-borns, which was surely the question on everyone’s mind. This meant, to the shock of many, that muggles would be allowed at Hogwarts for the first time since its opening. As guests, sure, but it was still a big deal. Despite growing up around muggles his entire life, Anakin could see how this would bristle people. They didn’t know or understand magic. This school was meant for wizards only. Muggles could get hurt on the grounds and no one wanted to see that.
In lieu of this announcement, the student body didn’t fall into that comforting sense of easy camaraderie that made the castle feel like home. Instead, the knowledge that their parents would be invading their spaces to inspect and essentially deem Hogwarts fit for them in a week’s time, made it very difficult to relax at all.
Even Anakin was a bit worried that his mum might learn of the more dangerous events from his first year. She certainly would not have enjoyed hearing he was kidnapped for a brief period of time or that nobody notified her immediately.
Despite how low he felt at one point in the spring, Anakin couldn’t imagine being anywhere else but at Hogwarts. His recent surge in popularity was proof of his belonging. How else was he supposed to protect his people if he wasn’t trained to do so? They needed him and he liked the concept of them needing him.
Obi-Wan was probably the only student not at least a little on edge, which Anakin found more peculiar than anything else. After his potions class, which afforded him the chance to visit one of his favorite professors, Anakin slipped away from the crowd of chattering students to find his mentor calmly shepherding some new first year Ravenclaws. Of course, he was still incredibly diligent about his job- taking care to make sure they got on their way without getting lost. He just lacked that rigid demeanor that every other student seemed to carry with them or in Obi-Wan’s case, the kind he carried most of the time anyway.
Anakin sighed as he considered the new students. It was hard to believe that it had been an entire year since he was in their shoes. They were so young, so unknowing, so naive. They could learn a lot from him.
“Did you need something, Anakin?” Obi-Wan looked over at him.
“Oh, I was just seeing if you needed help rounding up the little kids.” He said casually, “Seeing as I probably know this castle better than most at this point.”
Despite the quirk that pulled at his mentor’s usually serious mouth, Anakin knew Obi-Wan couldn’t exactly contest the point with all of Anakin’s misadventures through the secret tunnel system.
“I’m sure you heard that the tunnels are open for public transit now.” He said, “And are guarded at all times by enchanted suits of armor so as to prevent any mischief.”
Anakin did hear that, but he didn’t appreciate the way Obi-Wan took care to cast an accusatory look at him when he said the word mischief, even if it wasn’t entirely misplaced. He also didn’t voice his obvious disappointment that the tunnels were no longer just his little secret that he shared with Palpatine and Rex. With everyone knowing, they basically just became additional glorified hallways.
“Well, everyone should be thanking me for finding them quicker ways to get to and from class then.” He said with a nod.
Obi-Wan opened his mouth to answer with what would no doubt be a well-timed sarcastic reply, but was cut off by a loud “WOOP” and cheer of Anakin’s name by a third year Ravenclaw named Jax Pavan, who was merely passing by. This was soon followed by his friend, a Hufflepuff named Tru Veld’s, own loud acknowledgement of Anakin.
“Hey guys!” Anakin waved and beamed at them.
“My my, you’ve certainly gained some instant popularity.” Obi-Wan said once the boys passed down the moving staircases.
Anakin shrugged like it wasn’t as big of a deal to him as it was. After all, he’d never been popular before. Hearing Obi-Wan admit it made it feel like he had pop rocks in his stomach. It was confirmation.
“Well, word does travel fast.” Anakin said with the wave of a hand at another passing fan, “I am just choosing to embrace that fact for once.”
“As long as you don’t allow it to interfere with your studies.” Obi-Wan said sternly, “Even chosen ones need to pass their classes.”
“We’re not even through the first week of school and you’re already lecturing me?” Anakin complained, “You’re worse than Windu.”
“Just because I’m no longer technically your mentor doesn’t mean I don’t have your best interest in mind.” Obi-Wan said with a shrug.
“Oh, that’s right, so that means I no longer technically have to listen to you anymore.” Anakin puffed out his chest in pride at deducing that one.
“I’m still a prefect, Anakin.” He deadpanned, “The only thing that’s changed between us is I am now in the jurisdiction of being able to give you detention should you require it.”
He remembered his detentions with Windu with the disdain of someone that was never going to get those hours back. He really did not want to repeat the same strokes and end up there again. Plus, he quite liked having Obi-Wan as his mentor. While innately powerful and necessary to the fate of the universe, Anakin still couldn’t quite figure out how to scribe the perfect essay.
“I suppose it would be quite lame if I don’t score high marks.” Anakin reasoned, “Being the chosen one and all.”
“If I’d known a prophecy would have gotten you to do your homework on time, I would have taken up poetry at some point last year.” He said.
“You’re telling me you haven’t been reading that goofy stuff this entire time?” He asked.
Obi-Wan cracked a smile and gestured his hand out, neither confirming nor denying this. He wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest. Obi-Wan was always discussing archaic books with Satine or Qui-Gon, “Now, Mr. Chosen One, I highly recommend you see your way off to your Defense Against the Dark Arts class.”
His uniform was pressed and perfect as ever- complete with a prefect button shining from being recently polished and shoes that endured the same fate. There wasn’t a hair out of place on his well-sculpted head and there didn’t appear to be any tension gripping at his form. That being said, Obi-Wan had clearly gone through a bit of a growth spurt over the summer and was even taller than he was last year, making him appear longer and lankier.
However, Anakin liked to think he could read him pretty well and saw none of the usual signs of unease: no tight frown, clenched jaw or hands, red ears, or intense calculative stare. Instead, he just seemed full of pure duty and focus.
Yes, Obi-Wan was far too serene for someone that stood a lot to risk with being ripped from school after the parent conferences. Everyone knew he was in the running for Head Boy and Anakin didn’t even fully understand the significance for such a title besides the fact that it was a big deal to wizards.
“But what about the first years?” He complained, “You might need my help.”
“Professor Fisto might be new, but he’s no fool. He’d never believe I require the assistance of a second year to accomplish such a feat. Besides, I think I can handle escorting a lost child or two. I certainly had no issue getting you to class.”
Well, Anakin had fallen down a staircase on his first day, but he’d had worse days in the past.
“You know, you seem awfully chill.” Anakin finally accused him with narrowed eyes and an outstretched pointed finger.
“I’m always chill!” Obi-Wan objected with a slight crack in his voice, but even the word chill sounded foreign coming from his mouth. Perhaps, this was because it was not usually a word so readily used to describe him.
“One, no you’re not.” Anakin countered, “And two, everyone in school is freaking out about their parents coming and pulling them out of Hogwarts. I figured this would have you written all over it as far as panic attacks go.”
“Contrary to popular belief, I see no reason for concern,” Obi-Wan said simply and earnestly.
Still, Anakin stared at him for a long moment to try and look for any of the indicators that he was lying. He didn’t know exactly what to look for with the ever-trained Obi-Wan, but he’d seen enough cop shows to know there were always tells.
He placed a hand on his shoulder, “Anakin, I appreciate your consideration, but really, I’m alright. I do not believe my parents would see any place as a better fit for me than Hogwarts. After all, my family has been in attendance since the first generation of students.”
“Your family is that old?” Anakin couldn’t even trace back to his grandparents on either side, let alone know what his forefathers were doing back in their day. Based on his minimal impression on Obi-Wan’s family, he couldn’t decide if that was a positive or negative thing.
“It certainly has its legacy.” He said instead, but shook his head before devolving into what would surely be a very robotic history lesson, “And besides, my parents are far too busy to just drop everything for a school event. They’ve got much to keep up with the family business.”
That would explain why the Kenobi’s were never at any Quidditch matches, but Anakin had never made such a connection until now. While the sixth year prefect didn’t sound or seem the least bit sad over this, Anakin still felt a bit bad. Even if he was nervous about what she might say should she learn of his incident with Dooku, Anakin was still excited to show his mum his bunk, classrooms, and Quidditch locker.
Even if he was grown up, he still liked having someone who took the care and time to worry about him. Absently, he wondered why Obi-Wan wouldn’t want that too.
As he stepped foot into DADA, which would conclude his day, he shrugged off the concern, realizing not for the first time that Obi-Wan was a great deal older than him. Perhaps, worrying about such frivolous matters wasn’t in his coding.
***
“Are we sure bringing all of the parents on property is such a good idea, Headmaster?” Mace Windu asked from his position across from Yoda. As usual, Gryffindor’s head of house never opted to sit, though Yoda always offered it to him. Sometimes, he believed that the former auror liked having him crane his neck even further to look at him. However, the wiser part of Yoda understood that Mace was simply always on the move.
He had been the most uneasy about the decision to open Hogwarts’ doors to the parents, feeling that they were simply opening their dirty laundry to those that might blow it out of proportion.
“Their children live here for the greater part of the year, Professor Windu.” Sheev Palpatine said carefully, “Should they not feel secure in that decision?”
Mace bristled, “I understand that, Professor, but hosting guests feels a bit like welcoming trouble into our lair so soon after we’ve just increased security.”
“And you believe the parent of one of our students is capable of evil?” Palpatine asked, still maintaining his persistent sense of calm that was often needed in these weekly meetings.
“One of our own was capable, Sheev.” Windu shot back, “No one is above suspicion.”
“I can’t completely disagree with Mace.” Qui-Gon voiced for the first time. Though this was his first year as Ravenclaw’s head of house, this was not the first meeting he’d attended. It only seemed natural now.
Windu, just as everyone else, seemed surprised by this.
“It’s been known to happen every once in a while.” Qui-Gon smirked at the beguilement of the room, “We aren’t entirely sure who we can and can’t trust. One thing was made clear from last year: Anakin Skywalker is the chosen one, which means attempts on his life will be made.”
“Exactly,” Windu nodded firmly, “We don’t know who Dooku’s got working for him. It could be anyone.”
Unfortunately, they didn’t know much about Dooku’s plots for evil in general. After a relentless search that spread across the entire summer and alerting all aurors to remain on the highest level of awareness since the darkest of ages, it seemed the outed Sith lord who called himself Tyranus had disappeared into the shadows.
Yoda knew it was only a matter of time before he showed himself once again.
Professor Shaak Ti sighed, “Of course I care for the boy’s safety, but is this school not the safest place for him? I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumors. If enough parents pull their children from Hogwarts, we don’t have a school.”
“And think of the poor muggle borns, who would otherwise have nowhere else to learn magic.” Palpatine said.
“I understand that fears must be assuaged,” Qui-Gon said, “If we lead with fear, we’ve got no true ammunition towards the building Sith offense. We simply do not have the luxury of denying that a darker time is approaching and we must do everything in our power to prevent it.”
“Including gaining the favor of the parents, most of whom, Hogwarts is their alma mater as well.” Shaak Ti said.
“Why can we not hold these conferences in the office space in Diagon Alley as we’ve done when there were concerned parents before?” Windu asked.
“Comforting, transparency can be,” Yoda said firmly, “Unsettling, secrets are, but correct, all of your concerns are as well. Prepared for the worst, we must be.”
“And how do we do that if we swing our doors wide open?”
“Preemptive actions, I have taken.” Yoda nodded, “On duty, officers from the Ministry of Magic will be.”
Former aurors, the toughest of which, rarely fully retired if they hadn’t fallen on the job. It had thankfully been a fairly peaceful age up until the previous year, meaning there were more surviving aurors than in the history of the Ministry. Some went into teaching, as Dooku and Windu had, but most went into security for the Ministry or freelance. Yoda had been sure to nab the best of the best to preserve and protect their school in this uncertain time.
“Headmaster, as much as I support the notion of protecting our students, that might further instill the notion of fear in the parents.” Palpatine offered.
“Undercover, they will be. Unseen, unless necessary.”
Yoda prayed they would not be.
***
Satine truly didn’t have the time of day to be nervous for parent conferences. That was due to the fact that she was far too busy being absolutely elated over the whole idea. She’d done extensive reading on the history of Hogwarts (from none other than Hogwarts: A History) and in all its time of schooling, muggles had never set foot within its gates. This meant that even when something as tragic as a student death happened, the parents were not permitted on the grounds to retrieve their child if they were of muggle descent. Such rules changed to simply stating that no parents could step within Hogwarts, but were often danced around by pure and half-bloods, whose parents sometimes came to the Quidditch pitches to watch their matches.
While she never did (and wouldn’t ever) play Quidditch, she wouldn’t have minded an excuse to drag her mum to at least see the school her daughter had been dedicating time to. Even the graduation ceremony had always occurred in a field discrete enough to shroud the outline of the castle in the distance. This meant that it took a great leap of faith for muggles to send their children away to a school they’ve never so much as seen. Luckily, Hogwarts was extremely reputable and in Satine’s case, witches and wizards were very convincing.
She smiled fondly at the memory of when she first received her letter.
“Did you hear they’re pushing back Quidditch tryouts this year?” Cody complained around a mouth full of eggs.
“You might have mentioned it once… twice… or what is it, Satine?” Obi-Wan turned to her wryly.
“I’d say we’re rounding on the fifteenth time.” She answered after some thought. “This morning.”
Both laughed, but Cody was far too cross over the matter to join in on their jest. Instead, he continued muttering under his breath about the injustice of it all and how this was going to set them back significantly.
“A load of hogwash it is.”
“It’s only for a week.” She offered as the owls fluttered through the windows, carrying the first batch of letters from home for many expecting witches and wizards. As a carefully sealed letter fluttered in front of her, thanks to her faithful and beautiful snow owl, Copikla, many others followed for the students around her. She gently ran a finger along the belly of the fluffy bird as she used her other hand to peel open the envelope.
She grinned at her mother’s beautiful cursive handwriting and felt an immediate sense of warmth wash over her as someone would when ingesting a pepperup potion. Hogwarts was definitely her home, but sometimes she did yearn to have her two worlds come together- or at least, the better parts of both.
“I think my mum is just as excited as I am to have her at Hogwarts.” She said brightly, still scanning her eyes across the page, “You know, to finally get the chance to see everything I’ve been dribbling on about for years.”
“You? Dribble on? Never.” Obi-Wan teased as he opened his own elegant envelope, which was naturally enclosed with a green Kenobi family crest sealed at the back.
“My dad would have loved to see our tryouts! Show the parents what the kids are really doing out there!” Cody grumbled as he read his own letter, which was written in much choppier and hurried script, “Now, all he’s going to want to talk about are my grades.”
She wasn’t even sure how he read his letter with how much his burgundy old owl, Fox, crumbled the page.
“You’re not worried he’ll deem Hogwarts unsafe?” Satine asked, “Even I discussed with Qui-Gon a contingency plan where he assures my mother of my safety here. He’s quite convincing in that manner.”
“Hell no!” Cody barked, “When I told my dad about the Zillo Beast, his first question was asking if I fought it myself. I suppose my older brothers have already given him enough heart attacks at this point for him to be too bothered.”
“Your dad would light this place ablaze if anything happened to you and you know it.” She said firmly, “He just knows you’re capable of handling yourself.”
“And he’s right.” Cody said, “I’d just rather show him that on the Quidditch pitch and not in a one-on-one conference with Windu.”
“I think they’re worried the muggle parents might see their children getting knocked several meters to the ground without any safety net.” Satine said, “Need I remind you that your sport has literally seen people dead?”
“Not in like… Three years.” He counted on his fingers, “And even more so at Hogwarts!”
“Ah yes, so comforting.” She rolled her eyes and turned to Obi-Wan, who’d suddenly fallen incredibly silent throughout this line of conversation, “I’m sure you don’t mind Quidditch being pushed off a bit, do you?”
He didn’t answer, though. Instead, he stared intently at the neatly unfolded piece of parchment in his hands, reading over and over the printed words as though he was having a difficult time understanding. This, of course, was incredibly unlikely since Obi-Wan was easily the fastest reader at Hogwarts. He even gave Qui-Gon a run for his galleons.
“What’s their excuse this time?” Cody asked, though not without a careful edge to his voice, “Is the Wizengamot physically holding them captive? Or did a hoity toity banquet just spring up from nowhere? Perhaps they’re planning on falling ill that day?”
They’d grown used to a whole array of ridiculous and equally dismissive excuses for the Kenobi’s lack of involvement. Usually, Obi-Wan never seemed to mind much and would even play along to any jokes on the matter. However, he still sat completely unmoving, eyes unblinking and staring so hard at the paper that Satine felt he might burn a hole straight through the center.
She and Cody exchanged a worried look and she slid close enough to Obi-Wan on the bench to glance over his shoulder and read the letter for herself.
It wasn’t an extensive letter, contrary to how long it seemed to take Obi-Wan to read or fully comprehend, but Satine drew in a sharp breath.
“What is it?” Cody asked, dropping all pretenses of humor, “Is someone dead?”
“They’re… Coming.” She said slowly with every bit of disbelief that she felt ringing through her head. “They’re coming to the conferences.”
And there was little more that needed or could be said after that. All three sixth years sat and ruminated over what this could mean or why they were choosing now to show up. Obi-Wan’s father had been the prosecuting attorney on the Zillo Beast case, declaring the beast to be killed, but while he had delivered a scathing speech on the safety of the students being at risk, hadn’t said much on the matter since it disappeared.
In fact, as far as she knew, the search parties for the beast had stopped. It created a sickly feeling in the back of her mind, like either they’d done something to it in secret or the reason for its being left alive was to serve a different purpose. Either way, 97 meter-long creatures don’t just disappear easily and surely the muggles would have reported something by now had they taken notice of it.
Her worry for the beast did not compare to her concern for Obi-Wan, who always acted differently around his parents- like he was trapped in a crafted disillusionment. It wasn’t his fault, of course. They were his parents; while Satine always tried to hold her tongue on her growing distaste for his family, sometimes they made it very difficult.
“Ben?” She dared speech after a long moment of silence between the three of them.
He had placed the parchment down, but his mind was going at a rapid speed, and if she had to guess: was calculating every second of the next week.
“If you’ll excuse me,” He said in an even tone, “I’ve much to prepare.”
He swung one leg followed by the other over the bench, collected his belongings, and swiftly moved down the center aisle and towards the door before Satine or Cody could say anything else on the matter.
Cody sighed as he leaned on his forearms, “Good luck with that.”
She frowned, “And why is this solely my responsibility?”
He nodded towards the crest on her robe, “You see him a whole lot more than I do, mate. We both know that he’s going to be avoiding meals.”
That thought soured her spirits even more and she sighed deeply, causing the side bangs that framed her face to billow briefly in the air, “I suppose I’ll be taking his meals to-go for the week, won’t I?”
***
“AWE MAN!” Anakin exclaimed loud enough to echo through the emptying Great Hall. He slammed the fist that was not holding parchment onto the table.
Artoo, who had been among the last of the owls to return with a letter, fluttered in surprise and concern at the outburst, to whom Anakin immediately placated with a gentle pat on his head.
“Sorry, Artoo,” He grumbled sullenly, “It’s not your fault.”
“What’s wrong?” Rex asked. He’d already begun to gather his things to start moving out of the Great Hall and on towards their Charms class, which already wasn’t the best start to Anakin’s day.
Anakin sighed and moved to follow him, watching Artoo fly off with the other owls towards the owlery to harass the ever-sensitive Threepio, “My mum can’t make it to the conferences.”
“And that’s bad news?” Rex looked at him quizzically, “Me and my brothers are afraid of what the professors are going to say to our dad. Not having him come would cure all of our headaches.”
“The term just started!” Anakin protested, “Even I haven’t fallen behind on homework yet.”
“Sure, but you really think Windu is keen on keeping his trap shut about the antics from the previous year?”
“Maybe,” Anakin shrugged, “I think he still feels sorta bad for making me think he was going to kill me.”
Rex considered that and nodded, “I’m just saying, I love my dad dearly and wouldn’t trade him for all the galleons in the world, but mixing parents and professors just seems like a disaster waiting to happen.”
“I can’t believe they’ve never done conferences before.” Anakin said, “What if a parent is worried their kid is failing?”
“They have them off-site sometimes if pre-arranged by the parent.” Rex explained, “Or if a child is being particularly rambunctious. Fives told me Sebulba’s parents have met with the Headmaster.”
“A lot of good that did.” He muttered.
They moved past the slippery Dug, who was currently taking to firing enchanted spit balls at passing students with Ody and Groff. A few girls vocally complained while some boys retaliated with crumpled paper balls. If he were in better spirits, Anakin might have involved himself, but was far too sullen over his mum being unable to come.
As they took their seats in Charms, Rex turned to him, “So, why can’t she come?”
“Work.” Anakin twisted his face into one of disgust, “For the foulest person on the planet.”
“I thought that was Dooku.”
“Dooku is the worst person on the planet,” Anakin explained, “But Watto is all-in-all just vile and disgusting. Inside and out.”
“And your mum works for him?”
“She says she does it to put food on the table, but she’s the best waitress around. I’m not sure why she needs to stoop so low.”
Rex sighed, “Well, I’m sorry she can’t come, mate. Maybe a different beast will attack the school this year and they’ll hold these sorts of meetings again.”
“I hope so.” Anakin said and then gave him a wry smile, “And if that happens, you know who to call.”
“Headmaster Yoda.”
He thumped him, “Me, you ninny!”
Rex rolled his eyes, “No offense, mate, but I’ll hold off on turning to you until you at least grow tall enough to look our enemies in the eyes.”
“Then why are you calling Yoda?” Anakin asked.
“Big personality, I guess.”
***
“Tell me whose brilliant idea it was to schedule the first Apparition class the night before Parent Day.” Cody yawned as all of the sixth years piled into the courtyard. The air was still muggy, even without the added presence of the sun, and crickets could be heard whistling in the grass surrounding them.
“And at midnight,” Satine matched his yawn with one of her own and he wasn’t shocked to see she was cross. It was no secret that his friend didn’t do well with being awoken beyond her own readiness. Even that was pushing it, “I thought we were through with this malarky first year with Astronomy.”
“It’s the only time we were guaranteed a free slot in our schedules.” Kenobi, easily the freshest looking and the only one dressed in uniform, supplied. It was quite likely that he wasn’t able to sleep anyway with the impending conferences in the morning.
“Don’t they understand the concept of beauty rest?” Ventress scowled as she trudged not far behind them- hair askew, makeup smeared, and bags under her eyes making her sockets look hollow.
“You’ll need more than sleep.” Cody grimaced, which earned him a sharp glare.
“Do try to avoid poking the beast.” Kenobi jested dryly, “Particularly at feeding hour.”
“If either of you were to accidentally apparate into an active volcano, that might just make my year.” The pale witch spat and then scoffed as Professor Windu moved through where she and Cody stood briskly taking the center of the courtyard. “And you can bring him with you.”
“He doesn’t look any more pleased about it than you do,” Satine said, but then frowned as she took another look at Ventress, “Well, maybe not.”
“What good is it that you even take this course?” Ventress twisted up her face in disgust at Satine, “Hadn’t you muggles fancied yourselves too good for convenience in your plaything means of transportation?”
“Are you referring to planes, trains, and automobiles?” Satine rolled her eyes, “Operating those require a great deal more skill, I promise you that.”
“Oh, I’m sure, Duchess. Why not go learn to operate those instead?” She grumbled with crossed arms, “And spare us of your pointless lectures and comparisons.”
“I’m going to consider myself grateful that we haven’t shared classes in a while,” Satine sighed, too tired to take the bait, though Cody did notice she sidestepped that line of conversation. Unlike Ventress, the prospect of learning to pilot a vehicle was incredibly interesting to him. If Kenobi weren’t intent on brooding at the horizon, it would have interested him too.
“Alright, class, I know it’s late, but this is the only time we had for our first lesson.” Professor Windu explained.
“Does this mean not all of these classes will occur at such a late hour?” Lyra Prime asked from the corner opposite to them. Upon looking around, Cody noticed that no one was particularly enthusiastic about being out so late. He knew a couple of second year Gryffindors that would jump at the prospect, but he guessed this is what growing up looked like: pure exhaustion.
“Not all of them will,” Professor Windu said, “Nor will they occur as regularly as your normal classes. I do not want to detract from your studies with this course.”
“Just from our sanity,” Cody murmured to Satine, who nudged him in retaliation.
“Tonight, we won’t be doing anything crazy. I know we’ve all got a busy day tomorrow, but one thing you’ll learn quickly outside these walls is that life doesn’t wait for anyone. Ever.” Windu, even if tired, had the uncanny ability to sound like he was delivering the final remark on a rollercoaster of a court drama.
Cody wasn’t that disappointed about being here, really. Once his eyes blinked awake a bit more and he got used to it, he would likely be happy. He’d been excited to apparate since he first came to Hogwarts, after all. Most of the attendees were, save for possibly Ventress, who wouldn’t be excited for anything that didn’t involve dismemberment. Or at least, that’s the conclusion he’d drawn.
Of course, Windu sure had a way of sucking the excitement from the air.
“Where are we going tonight, Professor?” Eeth Koth asked.
“There will be no apparition tonight, Mr. Koth. These first few sessions will be about determining if you can handle the responsibility of apparition. Then and only then, once you showcase your knowledge and respect for the law and the intricacies of it, we’ll practice.”
“This class might as well have been run by you.” Cody said to Kenobi this time, “This is going to be boring as all hell.”
Kenobi only shrugged, likely not bothered or surprised like many of the students were. Cody was just irritated that this was going to be yet another thing he had to study for this year. His dad was definitely going to have questions about that.
“Everyone pair up!” He was unsurprised to turn and find Satine had already claimed the somber Kenobi for herself.
He frowned as he looked at Zeb. “Why are you taking this now? You took it last year.”
“Doesn’t mean I passed,” The purple Lasat said gruffly, “Wanna partner up?”
Cody sighed. Sometimes, being in a group of three did have its disadvantages.
***
Obi-Wan probably would have signed up for the setup taskforce for “Parent Day” without the obvious obligation of his own parents’ imminent attendance. Such a team took care to assist the professors in making the school not only sparkle for its guests, but appear as safe and functioning as possible.
Well, as possible for a magical school. He noted that they kept the moving staircases as well as allowed the ghosts to wander about. However, he wasn’t sure there was much that could be done about them anyway. Most of the parents would have presumably gone to Hogwarts as children and knew what to expect. He supposed they just needed to see that the attack of the beast hadn’t left any glaring scars.
He wouldn’t be mentioning to any of them that he still sometimes subconsciously felt the way the astronomy tower shook that fateful day the Zillo Beast escaped.
He really wouldn’t be mentioning that day it escaped to his parents.
“I’m sure you know by now that breakfast doesn’t begin for another hour.” Qui-Gon said the morning of the event.
“Would you believe me if I said I had first patrol?”
“No.” Qui-Gon said with the barest hints of a smile.
Obi-Wan had risen before anyone else in his house to get a headstart on the day- performing any last minute touch-ups on his section of the boys’ dormitory in the event that his parents wanted to see how Obi-Wan’s been managing. He was grateful that he’d learned long ago how to contort his more frivolous belongings so they were unnoticeable in his trunk. Still, just to be safe, he moved them over to Cody’s dorm so as to make the optimum impression.
Besides, Obi-Wan hadn’t slept too well all week and was of much better use preparing. He thought about what they would talk about and tried to prepare for every possible situation. They were brief and concise people just as they were busy. He had his doubts that they would stay the entire day, which truthfully, he was betting on.
He gestured to the towel that was in his hand, “I just figured I would get the jumpstart on taking a bath to prepare for the day.”
“And why do I gather the suspicion that you won’t be at breakfast at all?” Qui-Gon asked with crossed arms.
“Because I’ll eat later.” Obi-Wan waved him off, “You’re up early too.”
“You know I don’t sleep.” He was teasing, but there was definitely some truth to that statement. For an optimistic moment, Obi-Wan considered if this was where he adopted this bad habit. To be fair, Obi-Wan had been eating at least semi-regularly through his focus. Somehow, plates of food just ended up near him that came from seemingly nowhere. Of course, Obi-Wan had his theories, but not much time to ponder them.
“Like everyone else, I’m simply trying to put my best foot forward and impress my parents today.” Obi-Wan answered the unasked question in Qui-Gon’s eyes, though it felt a bit like he was guessing at it, since without a trace of natural sunlight, it was difficult to tell in merely candlelight. “And what of you? Are you afraid for the fate of the school?”
Qui-Gon frowned, “No, because I imagine most halfblooded and pureblooded families would still allow their children to attend.”
“That result would play straight into the Sith ideology.” Obi-Wan sighed and felt a new form of panic settle over him at the thought of Satine’s mum not allowing her to continue going to school at Hogwarts. He loved school, but he would love it a great deal less without her.
“Well, welcoming muggles through our doors certainly isn’t.” Qui-Gon said with a firm nod and placed a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, “Keep your chin up, Obi-Wan. The only thing your parents should discredit you for is perhaps your sleep schedule.”
Obi-Wan shifted, “They don’t discredit me. They are just quite particular in their vision for my future. They just want what’s best for me.”
“As parents should,” Though it seemed like Qui-Gon was walking on eggshells and it was not for the first time in this line of conversation, “Just be sure that you are also being mindful about what’s best for you.”
Obi-Wan didn’t quite understand that. He was always trying to secure himself a successful future. He wouldn’t describe himself as solely self-serving, but he did think a lot about his life going forward and how he would try to make his parents proud. Their pride always felt good and allowed him to know he was doing something right.
“I will, sir.” He said with a nod, and backed away to head towards the prefect bathroom as initially intended, “I might bring them by your office later.”
“I would like to finally meet the parents behind one of my favorite students.”
“One of?” Obi-Wan teased, “Satine isn’t around, professor.”
“At this time of morning? I know.” He snorted.
***
At exactly twelve noon on the dot, the harmonious bells gonged from their respective tower, alerting both students and faculty that Parent Day was to begin. Because there was no excuse to be tardy with the help of magic, the parents appeared from seemingly nowhere just as the doors to Hogwarts swung open.
Prefects, expectedly, still had their duties even with the sudden influx of adult supervision. Unlike most afternoons, students were required to sit with their houses in the Great Hall so as to make the process of parents finding their children easier. Prefects, meanwhile, stood aside and took on the task of guiding the befuddled muggles where they needed to go.
Satine took her tasks quite seriously and was sure to pass a sharp glare to shut up any smarmy student that tried to make fun of the awe that filled the muggle parents’ eyes. It was preposterous, really, because every student- regardless of lineage- was awestruck at one point or another when they entered the Great Hall for the first time.
In fact, even the wizarding parents had that warm glow in their gaze as you might when walking down memory lane. Hogwarts had once been their home and for a brief moment, Satine wondered if they saw themselves in the students that sat at their respective tables- or if they noticed all that had changed.
She wondered how she would feel when she returned after graduation should she have any children of her own.
They certainly wouldn’t be little bastards like Sebulba, who fancied himself something special now that he was a fourth year.
“Sebulba, if you don’t get that tongue away from Tiplar, I will be confiscating it.” She scolded.
“Is that a threat or a promise, Kryze? I’m not usually one for blondes, but Sebulba likes what he sees.” He waggled what she assumed would be eyebrows, but they couldn’t be seen beneath the goggles he wore over his eyes.
“I’d say such disrespect warrants 5 points from Slytherin.” Fenn Rau said airily as he appeared next to Satine. She turned in surprise to find him at all, actually, but was even more startled by the gust of wind to her right.
“More like 10 points from Slytherin.” said Obi-Wan, who had his fists balled at his side, “And should you continue this flagrant disrespect for personal space and authority, I will have no problem extracting you from this event in front of your parents as well as explain to them why Slytherin is falling behind in the house race.”
“Funny, I’d always known you to be the gentler prefect, Kenobi.” Rau said with a smile at Satine, “Not that it wasn’t deserved, of course.”
“I take the treatment of my fellow prefects very seriously.” Obi-Wan said sternly and if Satine didn’t know better, she’d say his chest was puffed out a bit, but he never kept his eyes off Sebulba, who looked like he debated on saying something else until he caught the intensity of Obi-Wan’s glare.
Sebulba snapped his trap shut so fast it made a clicking noise that she’d never heard, but Satine’s focus was more trained on the venom that seemed to pour from every feature of her best friend. She’d never seen him behave like this before and couldn’t quite explain what it was. There was tension, of course, which she expected from him on such a day, and disgust, which Sebulba obviously warranted. There was also protectiveness, which part of her naturally batted against, because she could discipline a simple sleazebag on her own and certainly didn’t need his interference. However, a smaller and more elusive part of her welcomed it.
He stared at Sebulba until the suddenly shy Dug had the good sense to turn away and duck his head down to avoid Obi-Wan’s silent fury. Satine led them a few meters away by gently tugging him on the arm from Rau and Sebulba.
“You know,” She kept her voice low, “I could have handled that myself.”
“I am aware of that. Perhaps, I was merely sparing Sebulba from your wrath.” He replied rather cheekily, which she was surprised as she expected him to be reticent today of all days.
“Is that all?” Still, she had to play along, “Need I remind you that I’m a pacifist?”
“Not when you remind me every day,” He quipped, “But you are also quite ruthless when you wish to be.”
“I thought you liked that about me.” She dared.
“I do.” He said immediately and then reassessed his approach, “Just because you can handle something does not mean you should have to.”
That familiar fondness tickled at her chest again and she found she couldn’t look at him for much longer without flushing completely red. He wasn’t looking directly at her either, which made for an easier task of diversion.
“I suppose chivalry isn’t completely dead then.” She said.
“Especially when prats like Sebulba are involved.” He said.
“So?” She pressed, “Just felt like blowing off some steam?”
“Something like that,” He flickered his gaze to her before casting it back to the masses that still poured through the building, likely trying to spot and see if anyone needed assistance. Despite the overwhelming sense of uneasiness that plagued the school for the week leading up to the event, children seemed overjoyed to actually see their parents so soon. Even the gruffer students, like Zeb Orrelios, who played tough during the day, ran into their mother’s arms and allowed themselves to be enveloped without question.
She noticed Obi-Wan’s gaze was fixed on a rather touching display between a young Hufflepuff first year and his parents and how elated they seemed to all be together in that moment.
When he felt her stare, he snapped his eyes forward towards the door and nodded with a little smile on his face. She followed where his gaze had fallen and felt her own mouth twitch into a grin. A woman strutted in, long and lean just like her, and held herself with a confident strength that was so binding that not a single wizard likely deemed her a muggle.
“Mum!” She moved at her own accord, letting Obi-Wan fall back as she pulled the taller woman into a tight embrace. It had only been two weeks since she’d last seen her, but she always missed her mother.
“Hello, darling.”
“I’m so glad you’re here.” Satine said, feeling quite like a first year as she said it.
“You were right, Satine, this place is fantastic.” Her mum said after they separated.
It always baffled Satine how her mother could maintain such ethereal beauty at all times- all the while maintaining a strength that she longed to possess. One did not raise their three children (including an actual witch) on their own for the past seven years and not be a force of nature.
“Isn’t it?” She beamed, “I’m looking forward to showing you everything!”
“Let’s get this over with.” A voice that was teetering on the edge of a whine said from behind them.
She was so distracted by the joy she was experiencing from seeing her mum that she almost missed the second and shorter figure that lingered behind her.
Satine cocked her head to the side in confusion and met the scrutinizing glare of eyes that always reminded her of green tea in color. However, while they used to be as bright as the rolling fields of the countryside in a fresh spring, there was something menacing about them now.
“Oh, you’ve brought Bo.” She tried not to sound disappointed, though internally cringed at how clear she had failed at that account. It wasn’t that she disliked her sister. In fact, the two used to be incredibly close as children. It was that Satine really did not feel like spending the entire day under intense judgment, especially when her kid sister decided she disliked nothing more than magic.
“I did.” Her mother said warily, which sounded like a warning for the both of them to get along. In Satine’s defense, she always tried. “With your brother away at university, there was no one around to stay home with her.”
“I’m not some dumb dog that needs to be watched,” The fiery-haired tween grunted with arms crossed over her chest, “I’m going to be 13 next month! I’m practically an adult.”
“I’ve not forgotten.” Satine said carefully, “Though I still can’t believe how much you’ve grown.”
“An easy thing to miss when you’re busy spending all of your days playing voodoo in this cold castle.” Bo complained and looked all around her, easily the only person to ever walk through Hogwarts for the first time and be unimpressed. “What kind of name is Hogwarts anyway?”
“Behave, Bo-Katan.” As beautiful as Ruusaan Kryze was, she was also formidable.
“It literally means pig pimples.” It was a shame Bo was as unrepentant as ever.
They hadn’t seen much of each other over the summer, save for the final two weeks when Bo returned from summer camp. However, she had been determined to spend as little time with Satine as possible, making it clear where she stood on her feelings.
“Always a pleasure.” Satine muttered and turned, surprised to see Obi-Wan had approached them again and was suddenly relieved for the distraction from the rising tension that Bo-Katan brought with her wherever she went. However, she was amused to see that Obi-Wan seemed a bit antsy for some unforeseen reason.
She placed a hand on his arm and smiled, “You remember my friend and fellow prefect, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mum.”
Something sparkled in her mother’s eyes as she clasped Obi-Wan’s outstretched hand, “It’s good to see you again, Ben.”
He smiled sheepishly and nodded, “And you, Ms. Kryze. I hope you’ll find Hogwarts fit to your daughter’s exceptional talent.”
Her mother laughed, “Oh, I’m sure I will. Satine speaks very highly of Hogwarts, adventures and all.”
“And of you.” Bo commented and looked Obi-Wan up and down as though she was ready to go in for the kill. Satine would not put her above doing so. “Though I don’t see what’s so great about you that warrants droning on and on in her diary-”
“-Anyway!” Satine gritted and fixed Bo-Katan with her most lethal stare, “Let’s proceed with a tour.”
“Er, yes.” Obi-Wan said, clearly befuddled by the change of pace and hopefully not by the way Satine looked like she swallowed a jalapeno every flavor bean. However, he recovered and smiled genially at Satine’s mother, “I will see you all later for dinner.”
“Ah, you’re not coming along? Satine says you know this castle inside-out. So much so that you made a map!”
“Right down to the murderous slaughter chambers, no doubt.” Bo muttered, but was silenced by a warning look in her mother’s eyes.
Satine and Obi-Wan exchanged an uncomfortable stare, before laughing awkwardly as if what Bo-Katan insinuated was so ridiculous. To be fair, the year prior, it would have been, but with Dooku recently outing himself as a Sith lord as well as an actual Sith temple that lay decimated below, it wasn’t completely out of the question. Who knew what lay within the walls of Hogwarts that they hadn’t yet uncovered?
“I may have made the map, but I’m sure she’s also mentioned some of my questionable artistic choices.” He smiled at Satine, who shrugged.
“It needed to be made known.”
He sighed, “And anyway, as much as I would love to attend, I must stay on guard for my own fam-”
“-There you are, Obi-Wan.” Mrs. Kenobi briskly stepped through Bo-Katan and Satine’s mother as though they were merely French doors that meant to be parted at her will. As always, she was dressed like she was attending the funeral of a very high-ranking politician. Her mood did not look much cheerier in comparison.
“Yes, we made the mistake of checking Slytherin’s table first.” His father, who matched his wife in demeanor and in maudlin fashion choices, trailed behind with the airs of constant disappointment clinging to him. Of what, Satine could and would never understand so long as she lived.
“We had assumed you would be with Ventress, but it seems she’s already off with her parents.”
“An easy mistake to make,” Obi-Wan cleared his throat and Satine could once again see that tightness return. Had they been in a different setting, she would have reminded him to take a breath.
“More like wishful thinking.” His mother said dryly before finally seeming to notice that Satine and her family were even present. “After all, you always manage to surprise us with the company you choose to keep.”
“In all fairness, times are changing.” Mr. Kenobi drawled and Satine noticed he clutched his serpent-headed walking stick a little tighter. “I think it’s wonderful that Obi-Wan has diversified his entourage lest he not be branded as bigoted in these… Judgemental times.”
“Funny, that’s not the word I would use for it.” Satine said.
“Entourage?” Bo-Katan asked at the same time.
“Indeed, we also take care to have a muggle or two in our artillery.” Mrs. Kenobi nodded as though neither Kryze girl had ever spoken, like this was a box that needed to be checked, “Of course, we befriend muggles of royalty or status-”
“-But muggles no less.” Mr. Kenobi sniffed and looked at Satine’s mother, “Seeing as Hogwarts has all but tossed the concept of privatization and prestige into the rubbish, I cannot place blame with Obi-Wan for having limits in who he chooses.”
“It seems to me that this dusty school needed a bit of change,” Satine’s mother raged.
“Mum-” Satine tried to cut in, but there was no use in stopping a Kryze woman when she was already lost to the throes of her own determination.
“-Because my daughter is anything but a token to be claimed like some sort of tax deductible. If you wizards even have taxes, that is,” She said, “I might not know everything about your culture, but make no mistake-”
“-But you, yourself, already have one on your hands, you see,” Mr. Kenobi said plainly, “Magical children born of the muggle world are just that by definition, alone.”
Mistakes.
“Father!” Obi-Wan cried out.
“That’s not to say they don’t have their strengths.” Mrs. Kenobi added calmly, “I’m sure Saline-”
“-Satine.” Obi-Wan corrected with gritted teeth.
“Is very gifted for her type.” She said in what Satine could only assume was meant to be genial, “But what my husband says is true. You never meant to have a witch for a daughter, correct?”
“You cannot plan for something you do not know of.” Satine’s mother said, “But I’ll have you know, Mrs. Kenobi, that my daughter- the alleged mistake that you claim was never meant to exist, not only is gifted for her type, but is the top of her class. Neck and neck only with your son in terms of merit, isn’t that right, Satine?”
“It is.” Satine was suddenly wishing she wasn’t here right now, because as satisfying as it should have been to see her mother drive the Kenobi’s into the dirt (metaphorically speaking), the necessity for this conversation made her mouth feel dry.
This made the Kenobi’s flounder if only a little bit in shock, and looked to Obi-Wan for confirmation with a mixture of outrage and the clear attempt to cover their shock. Obi-Wan, of course, nodded in agreement with Satine’s mother.
“Well, times certainly are changing.” Mr. Kenobi repeated in a dry tone. “Congratulations, my dear.”
It sounded as hollow as it felt.
“Yes, certainly… A victory for your people.” Mrs. Kenobi’s smile was so tight that Satine truly believed it would tear her face in two, “But we did not come to scrutinize over political differences.”
Satine clenched her teeth. “Political differences” seemed like a rich way of saying that the Kenobi’s believed Satine didn’t have a right to exist while Satine’s politics included just wanting to exist in peace.
“Oh really?” Satine’s mother asked, likely thinking the same thing.
“We’re here to see Obi-Wan’s chosen mentee.” Mr. Kenobi nodded beyond all of them and towards Gryffindor’s table, where Anakin Skywalker sat alone.
Satine doubted the word chosen was accidental.
***
Cody had all of his brothers lined up from oldest to youngest, just as his father preferred for the sake of remembering names. He took care to ensure that each was showered, dressed, and fed so that there was no messing around. Jango Fett, while a carbon-copy of each of the boys (but older), had a much less relaxed and more serious demeanor. The only one who fared like him in terms of personality was Boba, who Cody was shocked to see in attendance alongside his father, Hevy, and their eldest brother- who they called Ninety-Nine.
He supposed this made sense. There were four of them presently still in school and only one of Jango to attend all teacher conferences. It was enough to make Cody’s head spin. He just wondered who he was going to get.
Worst case: Boba, best case: Hevy.
Boba stood taller than their father- the only one to accomplish such a feat- with dark wavy hair that framed his sharp face and hung above his shoulders. He was easily the most muscular of their group, which was saying something, and always wore his military uniform whenever he could muster. He was the person that most professors turned their heads at, seeing as everyone believed Boba would involve himself in less legitimate dealings as an adult.
He noticed Hondo’s jaw drop in awe at the sight of Boba, which was proof enough of his reputation for smuggling.
Hevy was the broadest and who Cody reckoned he looked the most similar to; though Hevy always sported a five o’clock shadow that Jango couldn’t stand. Cody wasn’t much for facial hair, even if he teased Kenobi about being able to grow a full beard while his friend could not.
And Ninety-Nine, their eldest and most revered brother, stood shortest- in part to the hump that caused him to slouch and require a cane- however, this did not stop him from walking the proudest towards his little brothers. Ninety-Nine was the best of them, in Cody’s humble opinion, with enough kindness to cover cities and a loyalty that would have made any Hufflepuff proud. He was wise as a Ravenclaw should be, braver than himself and all his other Gryffindors, and ambitious as the best of Slytherin house was.
There was just one thing: Ninety-Nine did not have magical abilities.
“Brothers!” Ninety-Nine was the first to greet them, a lopsided smile coloring his face, which could only move on the right side. He pulled Rex into a gentle hug first, “I’m so proud of all of you. The best of Gryffindor house!”
“Wait til you talk to their professors before you say that, mate.” Hevy grinned devilishly, tugging both of the twins into a headlock that made Boba roll his eyes disapprovingly.
“Uncle! Uncle!” Fives begged while laughing.
“Yeah, let us out of these meat sticks you call arms, Hevy.” Echo added, “There’s a reason that’s your nickname and isn’t because you’re teeny weeny.”
“Boys.” Jango said sternly and each of them fell into line, including Ninety-Nine at the end. After pacing back and forth, inspecting each of them for missing or forgetting anything, he nodded, “At ease.”
They all dropped into more casual positions and Cody smiled at him, “Oi, Dad, I didn’t know you’d be bringing the whole team.”
Jango cracked a smile, “And let three of you get off easy? I think not.”
“Not when you lot are releasing beasts and tracking down Sith lords.” Hevy said.
Ninety-Nine nodded eagerly, “I heard you were at the heart of all that, Rexy.”
Rex grinned, likely happy to have some attention, which Ninety-Nine always had ample amounts of, “My best friend, Anakin and I, were.”
“That’s me.” Anakin’s blond little head had popped somewhere in the midst of their huddle without anyone noticing. To be fair, the kid was small and their group was big. It was easy to forget who was and wasn’t a Fett sometimes. “I’m Anakin Skywalker.”
Jango and Ninety-Nine took care to shake his small hand while Boba nodded at him appraisingly.
“I’ve read the news about you.” Ninety-Nine said, “Boy is all over the Daily Prophet! Never imagined my little brother would be tied in with the chosen one.”
“That he is.” Cody said, “These two get into more trouble than even the twins.”
“Hey!” Echo protested.
“Yeah, I resent that.” Fives added, “We had an off year. We hope to reclaim the throne again soon.”
“You can have it.” Rex sighed, “Last year was exhausting.”
“Alright, alright, enough of the chatter. We’re here for a reason and that’s to talk with all of your professors.” Boba said, “We’ve got to make sure your heads are not up in the clouds.”
“Cody.” Hevy crooned and the twins laughed.
Cody glared at him, “My head is right where it needs to be.”
“And it’s bigger than ever.” Rex teased with a smile.
“Careful, I’m the deciding factor that puts you on the Quidditch team or not.” Cody warned.
Rex had the good sense to slink back at that. Yeah, Cody wasn’t being entirely serious, because he knew Rex could play better than any of the new prospective kids that would be trying out, but he needed to humble the kid out every now and then.
“Don’t listen to him, Rex.” Ninety-Nine smiled softly, “He would love to have you play.”
***
It wasn’t enough that Anakin’s mother wasn’t able to make it for Parent’s Day, but having to witness the intensely jovial reunion between all of the Fett’s was a lot to take in. He supposed it was for the best that his mother not confer with Windu about Anakin’s dealings of the previous year, but he still yearned for that sense of family atmosphere that everyone else got to have.
Then again, he would have time to reacquaint himself with the castle, perhaps seek out the coat of arms that would be guarding each tunnel. He figured Palpatine would allow him to hang out in his classroom if need be.
Just as he was about to get up and remove himself from the fuzzy feelings that swirled around him, he was faced with the intimidating presence of the Kenobi’s, who strangely enough, looked at him with welcoming smiles.
“And you must be the wonderful boy our son has told us so much about.” Obi-Wan’s mum said brightly. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
He’d technically met them before, but perhaps, he’d caught them on a bad day. Everyone had those. He wasn’t too nice if he found himself eating a bad burrito or chili cheese dog. Who would be, anyway?
“Officially, that is.” His father corrected with mirth in his eyes, “I do apologize for any rudeness from our previous encounter. I have no excuse for our curt interaction, but I assure you, we meant no malice towards you.”
Anakin’s eyes flickered to Obi-Wan’s, who was standing off to the side and looking very out of place in this circumstance. In fact, he kept studying his parents as if they’d gone mad. Still, Anakin didn’t want to be impolite and reached out to shake their outstretched hand.
“I’m Anakin. I was Obi-Wan’s mentee last year.”
“You sure were.” Mrs. Kenobi’s smile widened and it looked new on her face, but Anakin was happy to have put it there. She was a great deal less scary when she smiled and while his father did remind him of Dooku in appearance, seemed significantly friendlier as well. “I see what our son saw in you.”
“Yes, we’ve certainly heard of all your various talents.” He said.
“You did?” Anakin smiled hesitantly, “Did he tell you about Dooku?”
“Oh, you know Obi-Wan. He’s so stoic and shy.” His mother said, “We had to do a little digging of our own, but my my Anakin, you are something of a prodigy.”
He’d never heard that term to describe him before, but it made him light up with excitement. These upstanding, high-end, practically royal wizards noticed him. And not only that, saw his merit. Plus, this meant there were newspaper articles about Anakin floating around.
“I am quite proficient in charms.” He admitted, though he didn’t want to sound too full of himself.
“You would make a damn good auror one day,” Mr. Kenobi said excitedly, “Especially for conquering such odds last year,” He sat down beside Anakin at Gryffindor’s table, which made Obi-Wan’s eyes widen even more. It made him look a bit like a cartoon character in the moment.
“I would love to meet your mother. She’s a wizard, no?” Mrs. Kenobi said, “To tell her what a magnificent and brave little boy she has on her hands.”
“Er, I hate to interrupt, but my head of house really was eager to meet you two-” Obi-Wan began, but was cut off by Anakin.
“-My mom isn’t here.” Anakin said glumly.
Mrs. Kenobi quite literally clutched her pearls in surprise, “Heavens! That’s awful. Is she alright?”
“She’s okay.” He said quietly, “Just working.”
“Working?” Mr. Kenobi said it like it was a foreign word, but then again, Anakin knew they were rich. Perhaps, there was very little work to be done even if you owned your own law firm.
“She works at a small pub beneath our flat.” He said, “Anything to pay the bills, I suppose.”
“So, who’s going to attend your conferences in her place?” She asked.
Truthfully, Anakin hadn’t really thought of that bit. He’d been so wrapped up in the fact that his mum wouldn’t be present that he hadn’t considered that his professors might not love the lack of interaction on Anakin’s behalf. Headmaster Yoda had seemed quite passionate about it.
“No one, I guess.” He shrugged.
“Oh dear,” Mrs. Kenobi placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder, “That is simply not acceptable.”
“Indeed,” He said, “We will go in her place.”
“But what about-” Obi-Wan started.
“-Not everything is about you, Obi-Wan.” His mother placed two hands on Anakin’s shoulders, “This poor boy is new to this world and is likely very frightened of all the changes happening around him. You are top of your class and do not require the same level of concern. Do you not have prefect duties?”
Obi-Wan frowned, “I mean, I could patrol but I do take NEWTS next year and-”
“-It’s settled then.” Mr. Kenobi grinned at Anakin, “We will oversee your meetings to ensure you are receiving the proper levels of attention.”
“Oh, thank you.” Anakin said, shocked, “I couldn’t ask you to-”
“-Nonsense.” He said, “Don’t mind Obi-Wan. He will be just fine. Right, my boy?”
Obi-Wan nodded curtly, “Right.”
“We are so proud of you for aligning yourself for this boy in need, my dear.” His mother said to her son, “You’ve done well.”
Strangely, Obi-Wan didn’t look like he had.
***
“Well, there goes the neighborhood,” Madame Ventress hissed to her daughter as both sauntered past Professor Qui-Gon Jinn’s office. It appeared he was currently in the midst of a meeting with that wannabe heiress Amidala’s family. Seeing as both Qui-Gon and Padmé were of pureblood descent, she knew her mother wasn’t referring to them, but the myriad of muggle families that were galivanting around the school like they owned the place.
Like this was some play place for them to mingle and take pictures as tourists. It was sickening to someone like Madame Ventress, whose family line extended through the earliest days of Hogwarts and cared a great deal for preserving its integrity.
Asajj Ventress, on the other hand, cared not for the trivial aspects of tradition. Infused in tradition was hypocrisy and she was learning more and more that the two could not be stripped from each other.
“I think we can agree it’s been on a downhill slope for quite some time,” She offered in her own raspy voice. “Ever since they allowed muggle-borns to come to this school.”
“Indeed,” Her mother rolled her eyes at the thought before her frown deepened as they passed Dooku’s old office. Ventress caught her mother’s eye in curiosity, intrigued to find interest rather than loathing there. Publicly, everyone called the old fart crazy. It was hard not to. To throw away an entire career of fighting off dark wizards to simply become one? In his old age? It felt a little too late.
“What is it?” She asked her mother when they stopped walking. She was staring at nothing more than a closed door, after all. Sooner or later a professor or fellow prefect will find them here and have suspicion, even if it wasn’t necessary.
After a long moment, she answered, “Regardless of his improper methods, perhaps he was not as crazy as the papers made him to be.”
“Is that so?”
“Times are ever changing, my dear,” She said slyly, “It is prudent that you always find a way to remain on top of them, before they occur, so as to be a visionary of them. That is our family’s way.”
It was true as it did remind her that even in her mother’s picturesque view of Hogwarts, where muggle-borns were deemed abominations and muggles were banned, that not even Ventress, herself fully belonged to that future.
Not unless she took her mother’s advice in a direction of her own course.
“I believe Professor Palpatine is waiting.” She said.
“Yes, of course, I do enjoy that man. That’s a proper example of a decent professor. I look forward to hearing that you have excelled to top of your class.”
Close, but Ventress wouldn’t be bringing that up right now. The iron gate of disappointment would have to clamber shut on her fingers another time, because they had meetings to attend and appearances to keep.
Another day in the life of pretending to be someone she wasn’t. She cursed the putrid muggles that walked by her. How dare they invade her space? It wasn’t a space she even fully fit in its entirety, but it was still reminiscent of something tangible without their grimy little fingers getting in. Seeing them felt like a scathing reminder.
Perhaps, this was a good thing after all.
***
“I can’t believe you even want to go to this school!” Bo-Katan’s loud voice echoed off the bathroom walls of the prefect bathroom. Satine had decided it was the safest place for her sister and her mother to let out any other grievances that they had. “You’re not even wanted here!”
“Not everyone is like them!” Satine huffed, though she was also reeling from the encounter with the Kenobi’s, “Ben’s not like that.”
“How would you know?” Bo countered, “You’re too busy going moon-eyed over him to notice much else about him. These wizards are bad news.”
“Now, now, Bo,” Satine’s mother placated, “There are good wizards as there are good people.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Bo rolled her eyes, “You heard them! They don’t think Satine belongs here either.”
“That’s not for them to decide and it isn’t for you to decide.” Satine gritted, “The point is I do belong here, because I believe so, and I’ve proved that by being top of my class.”
“You don’t have anything to prove.” Satine’s mother said, “You are allowed to just be.”
Satine could feel tears filling her eyes, but she shoved them down, refusing to give her sister the satisfaction of seeing her waver in her conviction. Instead, she took a deep and calming breath before saying, “To them, I do. And I always will. But in the muggle world, I’d be hiding. So, if I had to choose between hiding and proving, I will choose the latter every single time.”
Bo-Katan frowned, “Hiding? Like being a human is such a pitiful thing? Sorry we’re not all born exceptional, Satine.”
“I never said that,” She glared. “Because regardless of magic or not, I’m still human and at least I know how to act like it.”
“Alright, that’s enough.” Their mum stepped between them, “I’ll have no more of this bickering. You two used to be so close and your father would be so sad to see you no longer get along. We cannot change who we are or how we’re born, but we can change how we act. Now, I want you two to stop acting like those stuffy arseholes got to you, because they aren’t allowed to. Kryze women do not back down especially in the face of adversity. More importantly, they stick with their own. They protect their own.”
“Yes, they do.” Satine said firmly.
“Bo-Katan?” Their mother nudged her.
Bo ducked her head to the side and didn’t give a committed answer, however, they were running late for the remainder of the meetings, and it was just going to have to do.
***
Qui-Gon wasn’t quite shocked that Obi-Wan’s parents didn’t show for their meeting with him, but he was a bit befuddled to see them trailing Anakin Skywalker as they walked towards the hall, chatting it up quite fondly with none other than Professor Palpatine.
“Mr. and Mrs. Kenobi!” Qui-Gon forced a smile as he fought to catch up with them, even jogging to show for it. “I’m sorry to have missed you.”
Qui-Gon hated the politics that came with operating these sorts of events, but as head of house, he officially needed to be ensconced in them. Their wizarding world was ever-changing in a constant back and forth between different ideologies. Qui-Gon, of course, held his own, but knew he needed to behave a certain way to placate the less accepting lot of parents that would surely be expecting special treatment.
“And you are?” Mr. Kenobi asked slowly.
“Ah, yes, this is Ravenclaw’s new head of house, Qui-Gon Jinn.” Professor Palpatine explained warmly, “As we’ve discussed when speaking of Anakin’s brave heroics, Dooku’s unfortunate career change did leave us with an empty position. Luckily, Qui-Gon is more than up to the task of stepping in.”
“Hm, well, hopefully he doesn’t make it a continuing trend.” Mrs. Kenobi said archly, “What class do you teach, Professor Jinn?”
“Muggle studies.” He answered, but it was clear it had been the wrong one.
“Oh my... Things certainly are different from when we were in school, aren’t they, Professor?” Mr. Kenobi said, though he looked like he was a good generation older than his wife. In fact, he looked old enough to have been in Sheev’s year- whatever that was.
“That they are.” Palpatine said in good nature, “However, with the expansion of muggle students, there is a need for wizards to see how the other side lives.”
“I suppose there is validity in that,” Mrs. Kenobi debated, “Just makes me question where our donations are going.”
“I can understand those concerns, but I assure you, Hogwarts always has the best intentions for each of their students.”
As Qui-Gon’s eyes landed on Anakin, who just seemed like he was trying to keep up with this line of conversation, he couldn’t help but question that expression. Was having Anakin mixed in with all of these adults that were desperately grabbing for his attention the best for him? And did they really put their students' interests forward or the interests of the school as a whole? It was all so complicated, but now was not the time to bring up such matters.
“I only wanted to say that you have much to be proud of.” Qui-Gon said, “Your son is absolutely brilliant as he is kind and strong.”
“Yes, well, Kenobi’s settle for no less than the very best.” Mr. Kenobi said brusquely, “It is good to hear that he is meeting expectations.”
“And where is Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon asked.
“Serving his duties as prefect.” His mother answered sternly, “No use in slacking for our account.”
“The prefects were dismissed from duty for the rest of the evening.” He said, “That’s why all professors are fulfilling these tasks instead.”
As they caught a glimpse of two of the Fett boys play-wrestling at the end of the hallway, Mr. Kenobi snorted, “Yes, and what a good job they’re doing.”
Qui-Gon bit his tongue and smiled. It seemed that was the best he was going to get from them for now, but didn’t see why Anakin needed to be with them too. Still, the boy didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, smiling brightly up at him.
“We were just talking about the Quidditch season and how Gryffindor is going to make a major comeback!”
“I would love to see you play sometime.” Mr. Kenobi said, “Seeing as you were scouted as a first year, no less.”
“So was Obi-Wan, right?” Anakin asked.
“Indeed, but Obi-Wan isn’t nearly as gifted as we’ve heard you to be.” Mrs. Kenobi said, “Though he does do what he can in a match. Shame the poor dear just doesn’t have a knack for it the way his father did.”
Anakin nodded sagely, “I’d love to show you some of my moves sometime.”
“What broom do you fly?” Mr. Kenobi asked.
“Uh, a brown one?”
Each of the adults save for Qui-Gon laughed, though he suspected Palpatine’s was inauthentic, and Anakin blinked up at them in confusion.
“Anakin uses one of the school issued brooms.” Qui-Gon explained, though he didn’t see what was so funny about not having the money to acquire something fancy. It certainly didn’t make the player.
“Oh, you’re serious.” Mrs. Kenobi said.
“And yet, Anakin is still the best beater that Gryffindor has ever seen.” Palpatine smiled, “He has even deflected shots with his eyes closed.”
“Now that I really must see.” Mr. Kenobi said.
“Great!” Anakin chirped, “Our first match is in November! We play Slytherin, of course.”
Qui-Gon felt something twist in his stomach at the smiles exchanged by the Kenobi’s. Just what did they have in mind? And where was Shmi? Perhaps, he’d been wrong to assume that the risk on Anakin’s life would be solely that of an external force.
Perhaps, it would be someone close and disguised as a friend.
***
Obi-Wan, for his part, was glad to see Parent Day finished. This was coming from someone who hardly had any interaction with his parents, which was likely for the best. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment that they didn’t get to talk to Qui-Gon. Surely, they would be impressed when he told them of his accomplishments.
He’d figured out pretty quickly that the additional parents that “roamed the halls” were not parents and actually guards of some kind. Maybe, they were from the Ministry. He was unsure of their exact position, but was excited for their presence all the same. This, he was not surprised about. However, he was pleased to note that they weren’t necessary. No physical violence broke out during the entire course of the day, proving maybe that they could all get along for the right reasons.
Emotional and verbal clashing did happen and he was ashamed to say that his parents took their fair share of cheap shots in this regard. He still cringed at what they’d said to Satine and hoped terribly that she didn’t believe he felt that way.
They were dated views coming from pure ignorance, but his parents were powerful and capable. It was crushing to see that they didn’t always use that power for good.
And what was up with their interest in Anakin? Surely, it was because of his newly anointed glory that was already going to his head. They’d dropped Obi-Wan for him quicker than they could think of it.
They had really told Anakin he would be a good auror.
Did this mean they would think the same of him? He hadn’t told them of his plans yet, hoping to concoct a careful and calculative method to breaking this news. Then again, Anakin had no such responsibilities to uphold a family name. It wasn’t the same and it never would be.
He’d done the honorable thing and attended each of his conferences alone, save for seeing Qui-Gon. He didn’t quite have it in him to explain what had happened- that his parents had all but came with the intention of being Anakin’s guardians vs. Obi-Wan’s. All of his professors were incredibly confused by Obi-Wan attending alone, claiming that it defeated the purpose, but most carried on anyway.
He had a stack of notes in the event that his parents asked for them, but doubted they would. Last he saw them, they were watching Anakin excitedly tell of how he discovered his prophecy, which to Obi-Wan, was information better kept to the chest. However, it was Anakin’s fate and the boy could do what he wanted with it.
No, he refused to feel any sort of jealousy or resentment towards him. It wasn’t Anakin’s fault that his parents were fawning all over him and it certainly wasn’t Anakin’s fault that Dooku had seen him fit for attack.
Though, as Qui-Gon came into view and rested a fond hand on Anakin’s shoulders, proudly releasing a laugh of his own at something silly the boy must have said, Obi-Wan still felt a knot grow in his chest. It was pitiful of him, he knew, but he still couldn’t help but feel a bit left out.
He was distracted briefly by one of the secret “guards” who walked briskly by him, knocking into him a bit and stumbling, dropping their wand in the process.
“Oh here, let me help you.” He offered.
Obi-Wan leaned over to pick it up for them, but met bright blue eyes. These were not of the lovely variety, though, like he might say about Satine’s. These were artificial and something he’d only ever seen from a textbook.
They were enchanted.
“Are you alright?” He asked dumbly.
“Ayy-o-siss-ssah.” Was hissed back at him before he was launched across the room from a bolt of magic that exploded from her hands. He’d seen that once before from none other than Count Dooku. Although this witch did not speak of any magical words or phrases. She didn’t speak at all; just continued to hiss in a language that Obi-Wan heard from Anakin’s lips once before.
She was human, that much he could see, with rich brown skin that reflected brightly from beneath her dark cloak.
He hit the back wall with a thunk, but wasted no time in whipping out his own wand to stop her.
Even in his stupor, he noticed a dark and ugly ink-pressed mark embedded in her wrist. His research told him exactly what it meant.
The Sith emblem.
“EXPELLIARMUS!” He yelled and fired back a volt of red energy towards his attacker, who ran at full speed towards where Qui-Gon and company sat. In more of a sense vs. pure knowing, Obi-Wan knew she was going after his mentee and would not allow it.
Luckily, whatever crack of magic he released at full force had drawn a bout of attention, and the enchanted witch went flying as well. Qui-Gon leapt to his feet and stepped in front of Anakin, guarding him of whatever danger would come to them. Obi-Wan’s parents, meanwhile, launched over to where the attacker lay unconscious on the floor.
“What is this nonsense?” His father asked.
Upon closer inspection, Obi-Wan realized the ink on her wrist looked fairly fresh in nature, like the wounds of the tattoo hadn’t yet healed in full. It was easier to tell when she wasn’t firing lightning at him.
Everyone’s eyes flicked to Obi-Wan, whose head hurt terribly and was trying to play back the previous events back. It all seemed to happen so fast. Satine and Cody lingered on the side, clearly ready to launch themselves at him when afforded the proper chance.
Headmaster Yoda came onto the scene with a briskness Obi-Wan had never seen from the old wizard, who usually used a cane. In this case, gone was any limp he previously had, and it was replaced by vigor and strength.
“Okay, are you, young Obi-Wan?” He asked with kind green eyes that Obi-Wan was at level with from where he sat.
“I’m alright,” He said, “But I don’t believe she was acting on her own accord. Her eyes glowed as though she was enchanted.”
“Please leave this to the proper authorities.” His mother said. “You could have been killed!”
“Brave, he acted.” Yoda defended. “Dangerous, this was. Close Dooku must be.”
“How did that happen? Did you not account for this? Surely you knew there were risks to opening the school all willy nilly.” Mr. Kenobi asked harshly, “Number one being that these children are not safe here. What kind of operation are you running, Yoda? Do you not know that you have a hero in your midst?”
“Investigate this matter closely, we must.” Yoda said.
“Closely? Like hell I’m leaving this to you alone. You’ll be hearing from the Ministry of Magic directly. You won’t be able to move or breathe without someone knowing exactly what you’re up to, Yoda. I swear to you. You will not continue to put these children in harm’s way.”
And he turned on his heels and marched out of the room, letting the limp body of the attacker drop like a sack of potatoes. For a moment, all that could be heard was the distant clicking of his shoes.
“So much for a quiet year.” Anakin sighed. “I thought I’d at least make it through one month without something weird happening.”
***
Because the secret tunnels allowed students to traverse all over the castle to places they never could before (within reason and with supervision), it was hardly fair that Ravenclaw’s common room was the only one without a secret door. Evidently, it had to do with how the tower, itself, was built.
Still, because of this imbalance, so long as quiet hours were not in swing, students were allowed to bring one friend from a different house within the common room. This was incredibly convenient, because it allowed Obi-Wan and Satine to bring Cody in as their plus 1 while the star Quidditch player helped the limping Obi-Wan back to their dorm.
After the surprise attack and the Kenobi’s threats against Yoda, everyone had essentially dismissed themselves without much show. Qui-Gon, who feared there were other secret op’s hiding within the castle, teamed up with the other heads of house to scope the grounds. First, he escorted Anakin back to his room, of course. The boy’s safety was to be their top priority.
Satine had bid her mother and sister adieu and promised that no, this sort of thing did not happen every day. Wizards were either incredibly passive or over dramatic when it came to near-death experiences. She, of course, was quite shaken by the whole ordeal.
She hadn’t even seen it happen. Cody was the one to draw her attention. He and his brothers had been stuffing their faces with cauldron cakes- Hevy making a comment about how he missed the food most of all at Hogwarts, when the flash alerted everyone. Satine had been busy explaining how the ceiling’s weather changed to her mother and unimpressed sister when Cody practically dragged her to the Great Hall doors.
Naturally, Obi-Wan insisted he was okay. Madame Nema wasn’t called onto the scene, but everyone seemed much more concerned about an enchanted secret agent, who actually was employed by the Ministry and had no recollection of the previous events, than they were about Obi-Wan.
“What’d they even look like?” Cody asked curiously, after Obi-Wan sat back onto the couch with a weary sigh that marked being a little less than okay. Cody took his position on the floor, which Satine guessed was common for him in his own dormitory. Despite it being nice to see her mother, she was relieved they were back in the comforts of their room, where no one could infiltrate their privacy.
“What did what look like?” He returned.
“The eyes.” Cody shivered, “Boba’s told stories of enchanted witches. That’s some dark magic right there.”
“They were like the prophecy orbs from the Ministry of Magic.” Obi-Wan explained, “Only smaller, of course, but very bright. I felt like I was going to get sucked up if I stared at her for too long.”
“Surely, you’ve already guessed what this means.” Satine said, the crackling fire sounding crisp from behind Cody.
“Dooku has connections inside the Ministry? Yes, I did contemplate that as I was flying backwards from her sudden bolts of lightning.” He deadpanned, “Forgot about it though until you just mentioned it.”
“So what good is your parents involving more Ministry agents then?” Cody complained.
“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan scrubbed a hand over his head and Satine was trying to decode if this was exhaustion a concussion that was plaguing him. “But what I do know is that they are very keen on protecting our resident chosen one.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Cody said cautiously.
“It’s not!” Obi-Wan defended immediately, sitting up straighter instantly, “Of course it’s not. I just mean that they hadn’t expressed nearly as much interest in him when he was just a mischievous little Gryffindor boy. That’s all. Perhaps, their additional support and connections will bring us to the bottom of things sooner.”
Obi-Wan must have been feeling awful, because he never complained about his parents, even in an indirect fashion such as this. That being said, he certainly had a point. While she had been busy thinking about the terrible implications and insults they’d thrown her way earlier, she had briefly considered that they were not here for Obi-Wan, alone.
“I take it conferences didn’t go as planned for you.” Cody said.
“Obviously not,” Obi-Wan snorted, “But I mean, Anakin is younger and likely needed a presence there for his conferences more. Qui-Gon said he contemplated on stepping in too.”
Satine sighed. The moment of his brief rebellion had since passed just as quick as it came.
“I would really rather not uncover a slew of dark secrets about yet another professor, that’s all.” She said, “That’s my bar for the year and yes, I understand it’s quite low.”
“Well, I intend to aim high,” Cody said, “I explained my Quidditch strategy for the year to my Dad and he seems pretty confident we’ll pull through too.”
“Ah, so you were able to detract the stoic Jango Fett from just studies.” Obi-Wan teased.
“It helped that Ninety-Nine was there. Having him around always makes Dad a little softer.”
“I can’t say the same for my sibling.” Satine complained, “Though it feels a bit daft to moan and groan about a petulant little sister though when Ben was quite literally abandoned and left for dead during his conferences.”
“It wasn’t my parents’ fault I got blasted.” Obi-Wan said, “And besides, your sister really did not seem to like me or much of anything.”
“Don’t take it personally, mate.” Cody laughed, “When Bo-Katan met me, she told me I had a very square head and that it didn’t suit me.”
Satine and Obi-Wan both burst out into a much needed fit of laughter, unable to control themselves at the visual of the conversation. Satine could picture those very words coming from Bo’s mouth and while it mortified her then, she had to admit it was quite funny, especially since Bo had been 9 years old at the time.
“Well, you do have a square head.” Satine said finally.
“But it suits me!” He said defensively, which caused the three of them to slip into giggles again. “Hey, at least my head is in working order. How hard did you hit that wall earlier?”
Obi-Wan frowned, “Not hard enough to forget that horrible marking that was on that poor girl’s arm. I doubt she consented to that being placed there.”
“The plan had likely been to have her kill Anakin at the party and become unenchanted afterwards.” Satine said, “Which is a horrifying thought.”
“Luckily I was there to take the blow.” Obi-Wan said earnestly and Satine couldn’t help but fix him with a glare to show just how little she agreed with that statement.
“I’m glad Anakin’s okay, but I would also prefer if you could be okay too.”
“I second that notion, mate.” Cody clapped him on the shoulder and Obi-Wan winced, “Maybe you should see Madame Nema.”
“Oh no, absolutely not. I’ve just got some bruises!”
“Oh really? Take off your shirt!” Satine argued and instantly regretted her words as she was returned with a very flustered expression from Obi-Wan and a cheeky one from Cody, “You know what I mean! Prove it’s just a bruise or two.”
Obi-Wan gaped, opening and closing his mouth, before shutting it all together in astonishment that Satine also felt to her very core. Had she really just said that like it was nothing? Was she not supposed to be in Ravenclaw? Actually, wasn’t she supposed to have an active brain in general?
Cody chuckled, “Well, I better go then.”
“F-For what reason?” She stammered and grimaced at her hesitance.
He smirked, “For one thing, it’s almost curfew. Also, I really don’t need to see anything I shouldn’t.”
“Oh bugger off!” Obi-Wan scowled, but his ears had turned a bright and shiny red that Satine couldn’t help but be charmed by.
Internally, she asked herself a question that had been recited through her mind a few times that summer. What if she just went for it? She suspected he didn’t know in full what her feelings were, which put the ball metaphorically in her court. This was fine, because Satine wasn’t sure what she would do if it were the other way around.
Once Cody did leave and it was just the two of them in front of the crackling fire, sitting far closer than most friends do, and facing each other, she swallowed.
“Here, let me check and make sure you don’t have a concussion at the very least.”
He sighed heavily, as though allowing her to quickly inspect him would be the hardest task in the world, but was obedient when she gently took his face in her hands. She tried desperately not to think about how soft his face was or how fixated he seemed to be on her eyes.
She raised her wand, reciting “lumos” to bring it to aglow, “Now, follow the light.”
He did as he was told- bright eyes following the tip of her wand with little struggle.
“What’s 7x7?”
“49.” He answered quickly.
“What’s my favorite color?”
“Blue.” He said.
“What was the last thing we learned in Charms last year?”
“How to make a teacup grow legs.” Ben said, “And yours tried to attack me.”
“It was a smart teacup,” She smirked. “What’s your birthday?”
“Nice try, Miss Prefect.” He smiled and pulled away to give her best mock-glare, “You’re going to have to do better than that to figure out what my birthday is.”
“Hm, bold of you to assume that was my best.” She said, “Though I suppose this does mean you don’t have a concussion.”
And yet, neither of them moved for a long moment.
“Ben-”
“-Yes?” He asked, earnest as ever. “What is it?”
Her tongue went dry as they met eyes and she thought, not for the first time, how brilliant his gray-blue eyes looked when reflected in firelight. Her sister was crazy to believe he was nothing special to write about. Then again, Bo didn’t know him too well.
“There’s something I need to tell you.” She was stalling, because how does one just come right out and say it? How do you take that leap over the edge, even if you know how the other person feels? What if it didn’t work? What if they hated each other after?
No, she could never hate him. She would always-
“Does this have to do with the diary your sister mentioned?” He asked and for some reason, this deflated any of the build-up that was causing her heart to slam against her chest cavity with increased enthusiasm.
“N-No!” She raged, “And don’t go thinking you’re hot to trot simply because I may have mentioned you there.”
“I would never.” He smiled, “Though I suppose if I were keeping a journal, I’d write about you as well.”
“Well, you better!” She said angrily, “I’m your bloody best friend, after all.”
“Yes, you are…” He reached between the minute chasm of space left between them and took her hand in his, causing any other previous thoughts to short circuit. She couldn’t seem to stop flickering her gaze between their joined hands and the intense look in his eyes as he practically beckoned for her attention.
As if it could be anywhere else right now.
“And I…” He took in a deep breath, “I wanted to apologize profusely for what my parents said earlier. It was wrong and quite frankly, embarrassing. I’m even less proud of the way I didn’t step in more.”
“Ben-” She wanted to say some version of “No, it’s not your fault that your parents are terrible hypocrites.” but he didn’t allow for it.
“You are the furthest thing from a mistake or an accident or whatever other crude language they could ever try to use to describe you,” He said, “And you don’t have to be the brightest witch of our age for that to be the case.”
“Even though I am.” She couldn’t help but add in.
“You are,” He smiled brightly, “You’re absolutely brilliant in every meaning of the word. I just meant to say that even if you weren’t, you just being… You… is what makes you great and well, I don’t think I would have made it this far without you.”
“I’m not sure about that,” She murmured quietly, “You are, after all, my only true competition.”
“And I’m honored to be anywhere beside you.” He said it like it was a prayer and once again, she felt like the ability to breathe was no longer something she could do, “You’re not a mistake. You’re a miracle.”
Satine swore her heart was going to explode.
He gave her hand a nice, affirming squeeze, before realizing how close they were sitting and getting up to his feet. He turned back to her with hands now in his pockets, seeming like he was unsure of what to do with himself from there.
“If you think,” She cleared her throat as she got up to follow him up the stairs, “That all of that nice stuff is going to make me forget about checking you tomorrow for further injuries, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“I would have it no other way, my dear.” He smiled roguishly, “Just do try and refrain from asking me to strip again.”
She tossed a book at him and he dodged it, laughing merrily.
***
“Have they concluded initial questioning?” Qui-Gon asked as he and Mace Windu walked side-by-side to the dungeons, where the secret assailant was being kept for questioning. He winced as he heard her panting for breath echoing off the walls. He certainly didn’t have the stomach for some of the more medieval tactics of acquiring information. It was the seedy part of the job that often went unmentioned at career fairs.
“Just about,” Mace said sternly, his eyes like stone as he kept his gaze forward. It was strange seeing him in this environment, even if the man was always a little stoic. It was like he was slipping back into that role before his very eyes.
“And?” Qui-Gon asked after a meaty pause. Was this really the time to mince words?
“And I’m not cleared to release sensitive information,” Windu said pointedly.
“Why call me at all then?”
Something in Windu’s profile shifted- whether it be the intensity of his furrowed brow or the increased tightness of his jaw, Qui-Gon was unsure. However, it was easy to see that he was uneasy about something specific
“You’ll see.” He said instead.
“That’s very comforting, thank you, Mace.” Qui-Gon drawled, “Anakin’s life was at risk again, you know, and while I disagree with the Kenobi’s for being so…”
“Dogmatic.” He helpfully supplied, “Nosy? Sniveling? Spoiled rotten?”
“Anyway,” Qui-Gon carefully sidestepped, “Are they so wrong for being upset? We opened our doors to this madness and have the audacity to be surprised it came in?”
“It’s all very suspicious, I’ll give you that.” Windu said.
“Suspicious? It’s obvious.” Qui-Gon sighed heavily, “Dooku is at it again.”
“Well, we never were under the impression that he would stop, not while he still lives uncuffed.” He said darkly and then flashed Qui-Gon what was an honest attempt at sympathy, “It’s not your fault he runs free.”
“It matters not if it is or isn’t. We must get to the bottom of this,” Qui-Gon strutted into the chamber where the attacker was being held, “We must find out how to best protect Anakin and the rest of the students.”
“Join us, you have.” Yoda greeted them from where he was perched in a stone seat beside Minister Valorum and across from a drenched woman with tan skin, who was promptly cuffed to the table between them. To her right was Coleman Trebor and to her left, a large fluffy Talz auror whose two sets of beady black eyes were regarding them with question. It wasn’t often that professors were drawn into private investigations, after all.
“Foul Moudama, this is Qui-Gon Jinn.” Coleman Trebor explained.
At the mention of his name, the furry white auror nodded sagely in understanding, which was not the least bit of a comforting gesture. He supposed there was a reason he was the teacher of small children and these two were designed to hunt bloodthirsty villains.
“And Qui-Gon,” Trebor turned his long, scaly head towards him again, “This is Deena Riss.”
Qui-Gon recognized her, of course, as the cloaked assassin that had attempted to murder Anakin Skywalker earlier that evening. He’d only truly seen her unconscious before, but upon first impression, noted that she didn’t look the least bit aggressive or malicious. In fact, he could only describe her as befuddled and confused.
He nodded and took the empty seat beside Yoda and folded his hands in front of him. Qui-Gon was a patient man. He always was. He never let his feelings get the better of him. Did that mean he had any tolerance towards someone who could be so brazen as to step into this castle and try to take the life of a twelve year old boy? No.
She was still panting, clearly still recovering from whatever waterboarding they’d done to her to try and get information from her.
“Why did you do it, Miss Riss?”
She looked at the two aurors beside her, who seemed more tired than anything else. Qui-Gon was surprised at this. Was it not their whole job to be here right now? To investigate this case?
“I don’t know.” She swallowed, leveling him with her dark brown eyes, never once wavering from her stance. Headmaster Yoda kept his wand outstretched, a white tip aglow on the end of the small wand. If she were lying, it would glow a sharp red.
“Who are you working for?” He tried again.
“I don’t know.” She answered with just as much confidence and even more diction. He turned to see the white light.
“Who are you?”
“I’m an officer for the Ministry of Magic,” She said and no matter how exhausted she likely was from the countless attempts at getting her to spiel something different, she spoke the words verbatim without any hesitance. They were the truth, “I would lay my life down protecting those who cannot. It’s what I signed up for years ago and it’s what I continue to do. I can’t stay away from the job, because I love doing it. I love keeping people safe. That, whatever happened, was not me.”
“Why did you betray your post?” He asked.
“I didn’t.” She said and then bit her lip, “As far as I know, I didn’t.”
He was surprised to find the tip still white, but then again, the spell was designed to read the truth of the speaker. If for example, Deena Riss truly believed the sky to be green and the grass to be blue, it would show no indication of a lie.
“These are the sorts of results we’ve been receiving too.” Trebor said and Modama merely grunted. Qui-Gon wasn’t sure the latter spoke English, but he felt the sentiment all the same radiating off of him.
Qui-Gon looked back to Deena Riss, “Tell us about your day.”
“I already told them,” She sighed and rubbed her temples. Qui-Gon startled when he noticed the mark on her wrist, “I can’t even remember my week, let alone my day.”
“What do you mean?” He decided to come back to the tattoo, which looked as painful to receive as it was ugly. It clearly hadn’t been done by wand, but by needle and not from a professional’s hand.
“I mean, I don’t recall ever accepting this job in the first place! I don’t remember getting this stupid tattoo! And I don’t remember ever agreeing to any hit target. Seeing as that’s never been my thing, I’d say I would.”
“I’d say you would too,” Qui-Gon furrowed his brow as he looked over to a calm and understanding Yoda.
“So, no matter how much you try to get me to say otherwise, there isn’t anything to say. I am Deena Riss and I have a perfect record supporting my name. I refuse to let this define me when that wasn’t even me doing it.”
“So, who do you suppose it was?” Qui-Gon asked. He didn’t mean to sound like he didn’t believe her. While a perfect history didn’t mean someone was innocent, take Dooku for example, Yoda’s truth detector didn’t lie.
“All I can tell you is that there was this sinister voice… It was all I heard… And it was haunting me, caging me inside. I was trapped and I could never be sure for how long. I could see the things I was doing but only in small blips… Like my psyche was trying to fight what was happening though none of it was detrimental. Just, talking to some of my coworkers or taking bites of breakfast. I wasn’t strong enough to ward it off. And strangely, it was in the form of a song, but I couldn’t tell you the tune to save my life.”
“Was it a male or female voice?” Windu asked.
“Male at first, but later female.” She shivered and it was a very visceral and real reaction, “The male voice was leathery and thick… Booming… Power… The female voice was shrill and daunting, going out of its way to keep me from escaping.”
Qui-Gon stroked his beard, “So, Ms. Riss, what is the very last thing you remember before waking up today?”
“I was leaving work,” She thought back, “A security job for a buyer that was meeting a collector. He was buying something valuable, but I wasn’t privy to what. It was commissioned straight through the Ministry, you can check for yourself, and was completely legit.”
“Do you remember this man? Any details?” Windu asked more urgently with a hand pressed to the table as he leaned over Qui-Gon. His presence was heavy with frustration and even more so in fear.
“Well, the buyer was Rish Loo, some Gungan collector who liked to pawn off different types of strange artifacts. He’s got family in the Ministry. It seemed like an easy and quick gig, but I don’t remember anything beyond stepping foot in that pub.”
“Nothing about the seller?” Qui-Gon asked.
“He wore a cloak and was selling jewelry,” She said dejectedly and pleaded with him, “I’m sorry, that’s all that I know of him.”
Qui-Gon stared at her for a moment longer, reading the desperation in her eyes. This woman was lost, that much he could confirm. She didn’t know what her greater purpose in all of this was or if there was one. Whether she was merely delusional or something even more terrifying had yet to be determined.
“A word, Qui-Gon?” Yoda finally spoke again and he didn’t seem nearly as perplexed as to what was going on. Qui-Gon, without taking his eyes off Deena Riss and more importantly, the tattoo on her arm, slowly backed out of the room in tow of Yoda.
“That mark, Headmaster-”
“-Sith symbol it is,” He whispered in a low gravelly voice. Qui-Gon leaned against the wet stone wall to his left in order to make looking down at the small Headmaster a little easier on his back. He took a deep breath in, not once appreciating the damp and moldy smell that the dungeons always seemed to hold.
“You don’t just get those on any corner,” Qui-Gon pointed out.
“Done by hand, this was,” Yoda nodded, “By Dooku.”
“Or one of his followers. But for what? Free advertisement? She gave no indication to knowing what it was.” He said, “What is her place in this?”
“Fulfilled, it is,” Yoda said curiously, “Gone, the artifact is.”
Qui-Gon’s eyes widened, “You believe that artifact the seller- Dooku was in possession of was cursed to possess its holder?”
“Line up with Obi-Wan’s statement, it does,” Yoda nodded gravely, “Blue eyes, mindless movements, foreign voice.”
Qui-Gon made the mental note to check on Obi-Wan, “And what if she’s just playing into our assumptions, Headmaster?”
Yoda waved his little wand around, which was the only wand Qui-Gon had ever seen be only 6 inches, “Fabricate, this does not. Back her story, her co-workers have.”
“And she’s been acting completely normal all week? What about Rish Loo? The buyer. Can we not ask him?”
A dark look crossed Yoda’s face in the shadows of the gray dungeon hallway and Qui-Gon already knew the answer. “He was found dead?”
“Reported by Deena, he was. Killed by his seller, he was.”
“And how do we know he wasn’t killed by her?” Qui-Gon asked.
“Checked her wand, they did. Killed by the killing curse, he was.”
Qui-Gon ran a hand through his long hair in disbelief, “Dooku’s made his first kill then.”
“That we know of.” Yoda reminded him.
No, that certainly didn’t sit any better. And more frighteningly, that there was an artifact that could possess its holder into apparently trying to blindly murder Anakin Skywalker, lost somewhere in the castle. It couldn’t have gotten far if it wasn’t on Deena. Unless she’d dropped it, whatever it was.
Or it had been taken off of her in the chaos of the Kenobi's outburst against Yoda. He had to admit that even his focus wasn’t on the unconscious girl during the skirmish.
“We need to find that artifact,” He said.
“Indeed,” Yoda nodded, “Figure out who has it, we must.”
That sat even worse with Qui-Gon as they walked back into the chamber. He sat defeatedly down in the same seat he’d occupied prior, looking at Deena Riss with new resolve. She was nothing more than a pawn in this whole setup and her name would be dragged through the mud forever. Dooku, it seemed, committed more than one murder that day in his own way.
“What was the voice telling you to do?” He asked, “Was it telling you how to kill Anakin Skywalker?”
It felt like a sick question to ask, but he needed to know in the event that it might provide a clue or two in how to protect and prevent such an incident.
“Skywalker?” She frowned and shook her head, “It wasn’t about Skywalker.”
“Then who?” Qui-Gon asked.
***
“You wanted to see me Headmaster?” Obi-Wan asked as he cautiously entered Yoda’s office. The boy had a way about him that didn’t want to inconvenience anyone, even if he’d been invited. Yoda’s heart squeezed at the thought of such a thing being possible. How one could turn down the inquisitive mind of a child, he didn’t know.
“Young Obi-Wan, indeed.” He took a calming sip of some of the tea Kit Fisto had gifted him with after getting the position as the new DADA professor. It was supposed to be made solely of properties from the ocean and have the relaxing sensation of sea spray and a warm day at the beach. Yoda didn’t know about all of that, but he’d take any help he could get at this rate.
Obi-Wan took a seat, his knees bending up towards his chin as he’d chosen a seat geared more towards people Yoda’s size. It wasn’t as big of a problem when the boy was in his first formative years at Hogwarts, but now he was stretching out a great deal vertically. Yoda absently wondered why he never changed his chairs to fit his guests more often.
“Wanted to check on you, I did.” He said.
“Oh, my head is much better now,” He confirmed, “Nothing more than a big bump, it would seem.”
“Good to hear, that is,” Yoda pointed his cane at him, “Interfere with your big brains, we don’t want to.”
“No, my grades will not slip as a result of this,” He chuckled when he said it, but Yoda had a nagging suspicion that he’d said it before to someone else in a more serious tone of voice.
“Emotionally, I wanted to check on you.” Yoda amended his previous statement.
“I’m alright!” Obi-Wan shifted, “It’s Anakin who should be worried, I suppose, seeing as presumably Dooku is out for him again.”
“Indeed, he is.” Yoda sighed, “Stop overnight, the dark side does not. Fester, it does. Hide under rocks, they will. Before coming out, they do.”
Obi-Wan nodded, “I’m surprised I’ve not spoken to the aurors by now… Given I was the only witness to the attack and based on my parents’... Reaction.”
He was trying to find the words to apologize without completely betraying his family, but Yoda wanted no such thing from the child. It was not his place or fault to mend anyone’s fences but his own. He raised a three-fingered claw and leveled with him, “Moved to hunting Dooku down, they have.”
“Oh,” Obi-Wan actually seemed disappointed by this, which he supposed did make sense given his field of study for the future.
“Give them your words, I will.” Yoda said hopefully, “Remember anything, do you?”
Obi-Wan frowned, “Sir… It was strange. That girl… I know I mentioned that she was surely possessed, just based on her glowing eyes, but she was speaking parseltongue.”
Yoda considered this, “Sure, you are?”
“I remember it quite clearly from when Anakin passed out last year.” Obi-Wan said with confidence, “I know what it sounds like.”
It was a bit difficult to miss, Yoda had to admit, but it made the entire puzzle more daunting. Why could she speak parseltongue? Unless, Dooku was a parseltongue all these years and never showed it? He did have some royal blood in his family lineage that could do to be explored.
“Notice any odd… Items, did you?”
“Items?” He furrowed his brow in thought.
“Jewelry, trinkets, toys…”
“Besides the tattoo?” Obi-Wan asked.
“Mhmm,”
“Not that I can remember.” He admitted, clearly disappointed that he wasn’t offering anything of notation at the moment. “I was a bit distracted.”
“Acted quick you did,” Yoda commended, “Brave, you were.”
“Thank you, Headmaster, but I believe I only did what anyone else would.”
“What not many could, you did.” He said firmly.
***
Satine quite missed having classes with her friends. She’d taken for granted how nice it was to have Ben, Aayla, or Stass to talk to in between. Perhaps that’s why she hadn’t minded that Fenn Rau had started tagging along between her History and Charms classes. He said he had class in a similar direction and would love to learn a thing or two about how she went about patrolling, so she agreed with an easy shrug. She wasn’t too keen on being any sort of mentor like she had been last year, but she didn’t mind having him along to observe.
“You seem like the type to enjoy a cup of tea,” Fenn suggested.
“I do,” She agreed, as she turned to take them the long way to the Charms classroom. He took note rather quickly, as she expected any Ravenclaw would.
“Perhaps you can give me a few recommendations,” He was smiling rather brightly at her. At least one of them was a morning person.
“Everyone has a different taste. What I like isn’t necessarily what you’ll like.”
They turned around another corner and his hand bumped into hers on accident, “Now I know this isn’t the fastest way to Charms. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the way?”
“Of course not,” Satine scoffed, “As prefects it's important we keep track of all the hallways,” Satine explained, “We can’t check everywhere between classes so I’ve taken to making sure my path to class is unpredictable.”
“That’s very Ravenclaw of you,” He chuckled, his hand bumped into hers again. Perhaps, she was walking him too close to the wall. She moved her hand up to grasp the strap of her bag, “I’d expect nothing less from the best in her year.”
“Ben’s actually at the top right now by about half a point,” She corrected, although she counted the two of them to both be at the top, she didn’t want his own hard work and effort to be ignored.
“Speaking of ‘Ben’,” Satine nearly paused, it was always odd to hear anyone other than herself call him that, “I’ve been meaning to ask why do-”
He never got to finish his thought because at that moment they rounded the corner to see what looked to be every girl in the school and a fair few others. Everyone was talking at once, so much so that Satine couldn’t make anything out. She stood on her tiptoes to peer over the crowd and to a mixture of shock and horror, saw her two friends, Stass and Aayla, at the center of attention.
Breaking up large crowds of students was Satine’s specialty. She made short work of waving away students and threatening to dock house points. Rau finished scaring off a few 5th year girls while Satine finally made her way to her friends.
“What happened?” Aayla looked impossibly flustered, which didn’t bode well for someone who was a hard egg to crack.
“Professor Fisto asked her to stay after class,” Stass answered sagely.
Perhaps, Aayla had just gotten into some trouble, but that didn’t explain the crowd, “Did you do something wrong?”
“No I did something right,” Suddenly Aayla’s eyes were twinkling and Satine had even less of a clue to go on.
“Professor Fisto wanted to congratulate her on getting the highest grade on our pretest,” Stass explained.
“He told me I had great promise,” The purple blush coating Aayla’s face seemed to grow at the thought.
“He asked her what she wanted to do after graduation-”
“And then I asked him what he did-”
“He was on the team of wizards that explored the Mariana Trench,” Satine wasn’t sure why this information was so interesting to nearly half the school, but she could see why he’d been selected to be the new Dark Arts professor. The unexplored portions of the ocean surely contained unexplained dark magic.
“So he’s qualified,” Satine said slowly.
“Oh Satine,” She’d forgotten Rau was still here, “Women love a mysterious man.”
Like the final puzzle piece had been slotted into place, Satine shook her head, “Fenn, why don’t you go on to class now,” Rau seemed disappointed by the dismissal, but did as she asked without complaint.
Once he was out of earshot she turned and hissed at her lovestruck friend, “He’s a professor!”
“For only 2 short years!” Her eyes were sparkling with delusion and even Stass rolled her eyes, “Once I graduate, we’ll bump into one another during a routine trip to Diagon Alley. He’ll ask me what I’ve been up to and then he’ll tell me he always knew I’d go on to great things,”
“Perhaps you did hit your head a little too hard during last year’s Quidditch season,” Stass put a hand on their friend's cheek to check for a fever presumably, but Aayla batted her away.
“It won’t be love at first sight! It will take a few more chance meetings,” She stood then, rising from the window sill with too much purpose for something like this, “Then he’ll ask me on a date and it. Will. Be. Wonderful!” She declared.
“Aayla-” Satine started, but Aayla shook her head, clearing it from the clouds.
“I know, I know, but a girl can dream,” She tilted her head back towards the DADA classroom, “Besides, I don’t mind admiring him from afar.”
Stass gave Aayla’s shoulder a quick sympathetic pat, “Well I quite prefer my head to sit on my shoulders.”
***
The last person Obi-Wan was expecting to see on his evening patrol was Fenn Rau. It wasn’t uncommon for prefects to switch with each other, but Fenn Rau looked almost disappointed when he came into view. Obi-Wan felt his teeth grit together so he supposed the feeling was mutual.
“Oh, Kenobi,” Rau greeted with a wave, “I thought Satine was patrolling tonight.”
He hadn’t been completely off base in his suspicions, “Satine wanted to catch up on homework this evening,” He would certainly not be disclosing any more information.
“That’s a shame,” Obi-Wan didn’t think so. Rau scratched the back of his head, both of them strapping in for a rather awkward patrol, “I’m surprised she wanted to switch with you, she’s never seemed like a morning person.”
“And how would you know!” Obi-Wan thought rather bitterly.
“She should have asked to switch with me. I had a mid,” Rau laughed, but Obi-Wan was hard pressed to hear it over his own heartbeat.
“Let’s get on with this shall we,” He gritted out instead. Rau seemed a little taken aback, but followed after him as Obi-Wan turned.
The silence following was blissful. Only the echo of their shoes on the cobblestone and the snoring of portraits to be heard. It was a grave error then, when Obi-Wan decided to ruin it with his own morbid curiosity.
“Why were you trying to patrol with Satine?” He had to ask, it was practically eating away at his heart. Rau fell into step beside him at the opportunity, though Obi-Wan quite wished he’d stayed trailing behind.
“Well you know...” But he didn’t know, and as if sensing this Rau sighed, “I just want to get to know her. We’re both prefects,” Obi-Wan liked that answer, but it didn’t sit quite right.
“I haven’t seen you trying to get to know any of the other prefects,” Obi-Wan pointed out. Rau looked a little uncomfortable, like he was being interrogated, but if Obi-Wan was wanting to interrogate him, he was sure he’d do it in a more professional way.
“What about you?” Rau asked suddenly and Obi-Wan almost faltered in his gait.
“What about me?” Obi-Wan countered, fiddling with the watch on his wrist, “I’ve already gotten to know my fellow prefects.”
“Yeah, but I always see you around Satine,” He pointed out and Obi-Wan scoffed, waving a hand.
“We’ve been friends since first year, it just so happens that we both became prefects,” Rau seemed to inspect him slowly.
“So you’ve been friends since first year,” He repeated slowly and Obi-Wan nodded.
“Of course, best friends,” He confirmed, “Satine, Cody, and myself.”
“I see.”
They lapsed back into silence. Obi-Wan thought once again he should enjoy such quiet, but there was something about the way Rau looked like he was mulling something over that unsettled him. A nagging sort of voice, one that sounded a little too much like Satine, told him he may have missed something important about this conversation. He would have to dissect it later, but for now they wandered through the dark halls of the castle together under moonlight.
***
“It’s finally Saturday!” Cody roared, practically standing on the Gryffindor table as he made his announcement to the entire house. Though Anakin figured he was loud enough for the whole Great Hall to hear, “Quidditch tryouts are today! If you wished there was more time to practice, tough luck! You should have been practicing over the summer,” He paused though as he gazed in scrutiny across the table, “Although, muggle-borns don’t you fear, there will be special consideration for those of you who had nowhere safe to fly over the summer.”
Anakin would rather he just shut it and give this speech out on the field. He was hungry and the food seemed to refuse to appear anywhere it might be stepped on. Rex seemed to have the same thought as he exchanged glances with Anakin. Luckily for both of them, the screech of a particularly loud owl cut off any more that he’d have to say as mail started being dropped all around. Cody dodged an owl going straight for his head, before finally dropping into his seat.
“Woah! Look at that!” Rex pointed up and Anakin followed the motion to a pair of beautiful tawny owls carrying a long thin package. It was near obvious to guess what it was by shape alone.
“Who got a new broom?” Anakin considered as they passed overhead, he did not expect the clatter as the broom was dropped onto silver plates right in front of him, stopping near all conversation in the Great Hall as they all looked over to Gryffindor table.
“Uhhhhhhhh,” Anakin and Rex both looked at one another and then the confused Gryffindor’s across from them. When no one made a move to grab it, Anakin shrugged and pulled it towards him. It’s not like he hadn’t seen anything more dangerous than a mysterious broom. He flipped it over and dropped the handle in shock. His name was written in very well-manicured green script, so he wasted no time ripping it open.
For a moment everything was still as the beautifully polished piece of wood slid out of its wrappings before someone gasped and then everyone was talking at once.
“It can’t be-”
“-Just came out!”
“Firebolt Supreme!”
Anakin, himself, was shocked at the turn of events. This obviously hadn’t been sent by his mother, as this much money could have possibly gotten them a whole new apartment and then some.
“It came with a card,” Cody was looking at him with an unreadable expression, one of those tawny owls sitting primly on his shoulder as if they were old friends. Anakin took the card from his outstretched hand, the green seal… He’d seen it before.
“We couldn’t allow such a special boy to ride around on a plain broom. We look forward to seeing it in action. -The Kenobi’s”
His first thought was perhaps Obi-Wan had suggested such an idea, but why did Cody seem so surprised then? He supposed he remembered discussing brooms with Professor Palpatine, but could they really have just decided to do such a nice thing for him?
“Do you think it’s real?” Rex asked as he tentatively touched the handle with one finger.
“It’s from the Kenobi’s!” Anakin said much too loudly, causing the surrounding crowd to whisper amongst themselves, “I doubt they’d buy a fake,” His hands itched to grab it though, “Guess we should try it out though, yeah?”
***
“Did you know?” Satine asked as the Gryffindors barreled past them, Anakin holding his new broom over his head in excitement. Cody passed by too, clearly needing to make sure his Quidditch team didn’t get themselves killed, but he sent them a sympathetic look all the same.
“No,” Ben answered simply, nodding at Cody as he left the Great Hall.
“How could they just-” She started, but Ben shook his head.
“They can spend their money however they’d like,” He sounded neutral on the matter, but Satine could see that he was not, “Anakin needed a new broom eventually.”
But Satine disagreed much more about the circumstances than the turnout.
***
“Alright recruits!” The hype over Anakin’s new broom had died down just in time for tryouts and Rex clutched his own Cleansweep 15 tightly. He’d been trained quite brutally this summer in hopes of making it on the team, but he knew Cody wasn’t going to go easy on him.
Anakin was standing a little too proudly next to Fives and Echo, who would also be starting on the team this year. It was a relief not to see Krell and word on the street was he’d skipped town and gone to a different wizarding school this year. Good riddance.
“We’ll offer tryouts for every position, even if there aren’t any openings,” Cody announced, “If you’re better than what we’ve got, you’re in, they’re out. Sound good?” It probably didn’t to anyone already on the team, but everyone nodded anyways and tryouts began.
Rex had picked very carefully the position he would fill. He could play anything as he often reminded Anakin when asked, but given the current openings on the team, and the current players it only made sense for him to try out for-
“Potential Seekers, line up!” He fell into place with practiced ease. Yes, Seeker was his best chance at getting picked. He had exceptionally good vision and was good at strategizing on his own. He’d won a fair few games back home as seeker and he was pretty sure he could dish out whatever Cody would serve.
The Seeker’s tryout was tricky. Cody released 3 snitches, you only had to catch one, but you were allowed to catch the others if you happened to see them first. There were about 10 of them trying out, all different years, and the 7th years definitely looked frustrated enough to knock him clear off his broom if he got in their way. He supposed if he’d failed to get on the team 5 times he’d be pretty mad about it too.
They all flew up into the air, spaced enough apart and clearly trying to find the best vantage point. They weren’t allowed to touch the snitches right away having to wait until the whistle blew to go after them. This meant that if Rex could keep his eyes on at least one, he’d be good to go.
They stayed frozen in the air, Cody watching them all carefully, before the whistle sounded and everyone burst into action. If he’d learned anything from Cody’s rambling, it was sometimes best when you were small to let the bigger members pick each other off. So Rex kept his speed fairly neutral as two 7th years crashed into each other, spinning out and crashing to the ground. He sped forward, snatching the snitch they’d been after with well-practiced ease. He held it up for his brother to see before putting it in his robe pocket, he would not be taking the easy way out.
Looking around the arena, it seemed like maybe one other snitch had been caught, but the way everyone was just hovering and searching, it wasn’t over yet. Everyone was searching pretty high up, even the two 7th years who had crashed had managed to make it back up into the air. Given the amount of eyes on the field right now, Rex could guess if it was so high up it would have already been caught so he casually let his broom flutter lower and lower as he circled close to the ground.
He was lucky, no one paid him much mind, clearly thinking because he’d already found one that he was giving up. He weaved between the Quidditch hoops before finally his eye caught a gleam of gold. The final snitch was hovering at the base of the Quidditch hoop on the opposite side of the field. If he rushed to it, someone with a faster broom could beat him there, so instead he slowly drifted around, weaving on his broom like he was being flippant with the whole thing. When he was close enough though with no one tailing him, he put on a sudden burst of speed snatching that golden spec out of the air and pulling up before he slammed into the bleachers.
Cody blew the whistle.
“That’s three! Everyone get back down here!” Cody was quick to go down the list, giving tips and suggestions to each individual. The older students looked rather annoyed, but the younger they got, the more receptive they seemed to be. Rex thought it would be stupid to blow off Cody’s advice. If there was one thing he knew about his brother, it was that he wanted everyone to learn how to do their best.
Soon enough the tryouts were done and Cody was announcing who would be joining the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Rex could hardly listen past the beating of his own heart. He knew he deserved a spot on that team, but had he shown himself worthy enough? He thought so.
“And our additional Seeker,” Cody looked up from his notes, addressing the crowd and not even looking in his direction, “Will be Rex Fett, for showing ingenuity and aptitude that no one else did.”
“Playing favorites again,” Someone behind him hissed, but Rex dared not turn around. He knew his brother had gotten crap about letting both Fives and Echo on the team- he’d heard from the twins that it was best dealt by ignoring it, lest it get out of hand.
“Rex will be our back up, for Moteé,” Cody confirmed and Rex looked at him in shock. Back up? He knew he was still young, but he thought- “That’s all for now. Dismissed!” Rex waited for the crowd to disperse and disappear into the locker rooms before he approached his brother.
“Cody-”
“Rex! You really-” Cody smiled at him, but Rex shook his head.
“Me? Back-up? Seriously?” Rex asked, “I know I’m only in my 2nd year, but Anakin-”
“Oh,” It seemed to dawn on Cody then, “Anakin’s a special case, Rexy. He’s a natural, and we need talent like that on our team.”
“So I’m not good enough for you then?” Rex shot back, “What was the point of training me all summer then?”
“You’re plenty good Rex,” Cody frowned.
“Then what am I lacking here?” Rex questioned, throwing his hands up, “A prophecy? A rich friend? What is it, oh lord of Quidditch?”
“See here Rex,” Cody jabbed a finger at him, “I’ll be having none of this if you want a spot on this team. Fives and Echo waited their turns just like you will; especially if you keep this up. So what will it be? There’s still time to call the other guy back.”
“Whatever, Captain,” Rex summoned his broom and stormed off towards the locker rooms.
***
Cody was stewing over his interaction with Rex, so much so that he almost got beaned in the head by Ventress’s broom. She’d “accidently” adjusted its position too close to his head, but it seemed like getting his attention was part of it.
“Kindly vacate the field before I have you dragged off, Captain,” She sneered. Ventress had been crowned captain at the very end of last year’s term. Although Cody didn’t like her personality, he wouldn’t deny that she was the best choice for the position.
“Make sure your new recruits know the rules,” Cody ducked to avoid her broom again, flashing her a cheeky grin, “I’d hate to see Slytherin flagged on the first play of the year.”
“Don’t worry your pretty head,” She scoffed, “Slytherins are all familiar with Quidditch, long before their letter,” A clear jab towards muggle-borns, though it was untrue. Whether Ventress admitted it or not, there were muggle-borns in Slytherin, “Might want to make sure your team doesn’t fall apart, what with your pet beater.”
“Jealous?” Cody teased, “Anakin’s got pure talent, and you’ve got what? Scare tactics?”
“Slytherins are built on ambition, you know,” She reminded him before practically walking through him to stand at the head of her team.
The Slytherin tryouts were much different than Gryffindors, Ventress and the Captains before her tended to look for who wanted it the most, who would do whatever it took to win. She hadn’t been wrong about Slytherin's ambition. That’s what made Slytherin the best rival to Gryffindor’s bravery on the field, not that Cody would be caught dead admitting to it.
Normally he’d be more interested in watching the new recruits, but instead he took his time cleaning up in the locker room. Cody had always thought being Captain would be a cinch. He’d read every book, every manual. He knew every rule and practically every strategy. It turns out though, that there was a lot more to being a good Captain than just strategy and knowledge, just as there was more to the game then tossing around a couple balls. His team had a lot of promise. If he could get them to all come together like cogs of a clock, he knew they’d be unstoppable.
***
With the graduation of Galen Erso, Ravenclaw team had passed the torch of captain onto the completely obvious choice of Eeth Koth. He wasn’t the only one who wanted to be captain, but he was the logical choice and Obi-Wan had no qualms in voting for him. Perhaps, it was the Ravenclaw in him or his own distaste for Quidditch, but either way he didn’t mind not having any more added responsibility. He felt he was maxed out on such things. Others though perhaps wouldn’t feel the same. His parents hadn’t even bothered sending him an owl about this, knowing already that he wasn’t as talented as they would like.
Ventress, however, had been giving him a rather superior looking smirk for the better part of a week.
“Can barely cut it on the field, Kenobi?” She bared her teeth into what he’d come to know as some sort of sadistic grin.
“Congratulations on the title,” He’d said in response. He wasn’t looking to pick a fight, however… “I’m sure there’s no one better to offer the warm and welcoming teamwork that Slytherin’s so often lacking.”
Her teeth nashed together in a snarl, “See to it your team looks up from a textbook long enough to offer a real challenge.”
He wasn’t sure what had gotten her so enthusiastic about her new position. Ventress had always liked Quidditch because of the ability to knock people out without getting into trouble. In a way it’s what made her a fabulous beater. She’d never shown that same concern towards gaining the title of captain. He wondered what it would be that finally captured the true essence of her Slytherin ambition, besides the aim to tear everyone around her to the ground.
A loud and jarring bang sounded, startling all the occupants of Ravenclaw’s locker room. Obi-Wan barely reeled himself back from hurtling a jinx as he connected Eeth’s outstretched wand with the shit eating grin on their new captain’s face.
“A heart attack Koth!” Aayla shouted, “That’s what you’re gonna give us!”
“Ah come on,” Eeth lowered his wand, stowing it back into his Quidditch robes, “How else am I supposed to get your full, undivided attention?”
“Maybe some way that doesn’t make it seem like we’re about to get attacked,” Nadar suggested without even looking up from his potions essay.
They moved swiftly from the locker room. Ravenclaw’s tryouts were often quite boring, usually some sort of simple tests through each position, occasionally even a test of knowledge as that was their strength. This year it seemed quite the opposite with how Eeth was marching excitedly past Slytherin’s team.
“I’ll just get everything set up!” He announced cheerily, “Why don’t the rest of you get to know our prospective teammates?”
Obi-Wan really didn’t have much intention on making small talk. In fact, he considered just offering a hand to Koth as he hauled over the trunk himself, but the sight of someone stopped him cold.
“Rau?” Sure enough the 5th year prefect had seemingly taken a sudden interest in Quidditch and was standing alongside his fellow hopefuls.
“Hey Kenobi,” Fenn greeted with a wave as he walked over to meet him, “Got any last minute tips for a friend?” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure they were friends, but he didn’t bother correcting him or answering his question.
“Why are you here? You’ve never tried out before,” He asked. Rau just shrugged, though his eyes betrayed him slightly, drifting towards the audience.
“Well, it looks pretty fun,” He shrugged, but when it was clear Obi-Wan didn’t buy it, he added, “And I hear women are often impressed by a man in uniform,” He grinned. Obi-Wan squinted trying to follow his gaze into the audience. What girl was so worth it to join something because of a simple crush?
A flick of blonde caught his attention. Satine.
She waved as if knowing she was being scrutinized and Rau waved back much to Obi-Wan’s sudden feeling of horror. He tried to swallow down the green feeling rising slowly in his chest. Perhaps, he’d misunderstood.
“Look I know it’s probably awkward for you. You being best friends and all,” Rau scratched the back of his head, “but Satine’s hot,” Rau shrugged, “I thought maybe you were dating her after all, like the rumors said, but then you said it yourself, you’re just friends,” He laughed, though Obi-Wan was hard pressed to hear it past the blood rushing through his ears.
“Why are you interested in her anyways?” He heard himself say a little more aggressively than he should have and Rau tilted his head, scrutinizing him.
“Are you- Do you like her?” He asked and Obi-Wan shook his head in panic.
“No, of course not!” Eeth decided at that moment to blow the whistle, calling everyone back to the center, but Rau got one last word in.
“No need to worry mate, I’m not interested in breaking her heart,” He patted Obi-Wan on the shoulder before moving to follow the crowd. Obi-Wan was frozen for another moment, heart beating too fast, green gnawing on his insides.
Rau was talking about breaking her heart as if it had already been won. A glance up to the stands revealed Satine once again and he frowned. Satine had always had a distaste for Quidditch, but she was here to watch the tryouts. Could it be that she was here to see Rau’s performance? Would she be won over if he managed to perform admirably? It went against everything he knew about Satine, but sometimes she did seem like a box of puzzles- wonderful, if not occasionally frustrating. Perhaps, he didn’t know everything about her after all.
“Kenobi!” He was shaken from his thoughts by an annoyed looking Koth, “What’s got you all petrified? Get over here so we can start!”
He lined up, bad luck had him looking directly in Rau’s direction and it just made it harder to focus than it should on what Eeth was saying, even if it was just a lot of fluff.
They ran the seeker test first. Koth had hidden a bunch of rocks around the arena. They gave off an unnatural shine and you had to find 5 to be considered. Next was the beaters, they were to hit bludger sized balls into a stack of bottles and would be judged on accuracy. He’d gotten the idea from muggles apparently and if he was less likely to blow his top on a certain unsuspecting 5th year for some reason, he’d be much more interested. There was no need for a new Keeper as they already had himself and Nahdar, so they moved on to the Chasers.
Obi-Wan got into position, hovering in front of the golden rings at the end of the field. Evidently, Koth couldn’t think of anything better to test a Chaser’s skills than by scoring. Either way his job was quite simple. Block the hoops, prevent them from scoring. The first few students to try were younger, struggling to stay on their brooms and throw the ball, but one of them had been smart enough to attempt a fake out, which would be noted by their Captain as potential. The next few students had gotten good at flying and managed to score a few goals on him using quick wit and strategy. The air seemed to change, however, when Fenn Rau fell into position in front of him.
“Don’t go easy on me Kenobi,” Rau winked, “I’ve got to make a good impression,” He should have been talking about the try outs, but Obi-Wan caught his glance into the audience and he bristled. No, he certainly wouldn’t be going easy on Rau.
It was a bit of a blur. Rau tried to score, but Obi-Wan was always there to block his shots. Rau had clearly been practicing and studying strategies because loathe Obi-Wan to admit it, he had the skills. Obi-Wan, however, had 5 years of practice under his belt and a best friend who would constantly feed him tips. He used everything he had to make sure Rau never got a single point out of him and after time was up Obi-Wan had his teeth gritted, head throbbing a bit from a few furious headbutts, and not quite enough air in his lungs. Victory tasted sweet though as Rau, looking shocked at his defeat flew down to make way for the next contender.
When he landed, he stumbled just slightly before straightening up. He’d never felt so accomplished after running drills, or even during a game. His exhaustion was worth it to save Satine from the plight of having her heart stolen by some wannabe jock.
“Alright, I’ve got the results!” Koth announced and Obi-Wan let his attention fall. His eyes caught the glimmer of Satine’s hair. It was a unique shade he’d always thought, so light and airy, like sunshine. His brain rather unhelpfully provided that it was rather soft when it brushed his skin on occasion and how it would probably feel so nice to tuck behind her ear when it fell into her eyes.
“And our back up chasers will be,” Koth was continuing, but it didn’t matter. Obi-Wan had done his part and sealed the fate of the 5th year prefect, “and Fenn Rau!” Obi-Wan’s head snapped to look at a very surprised looking Rau. He cheered alongside his new fellow teammates. He grinned up at the bleachers once more while raising a fist and Obi-Wan’s grip on his broom threatened to snap the poor thing in half. He was hardly concerned about such material possessions when he imagined Fenn Rau brushing Satine’s hair back after a Quidditch game. He turned slowly, letting his teammates pass by him until he was standing next to Eeth Koth, the last two Ravenclaws on the field.
“You picked Rau?” He asked, trying to capture some of the fake politeness he had become rather masterful of, “He couldn’t even score a point.”
“Yeah, he couldn’t,” Koth agreed, “But only because he pushed you to your limit! I’ve never seen you play so spectacularly! Had to have that kind of motivation on the team,” Obi-Wan nearly dropped his broom, dumbfounded.
“You let him on so what? He could be the team pet?” Obi-Wan spat and Eeth looked at him strangely.
“Certainly you saw that he knows what he’s doing. He’s got good tactics and a good head on his shoulders,” He looked at Obi-Wan pointedly, “I’m sure you could learn a thing or two from him. I’m here to see potential and thanks to you, I found possibly one of our best future Chasers right here!”
Obi-Wan didn’t have it in him to return any such gratitude.
***
Dear Mum,
Fine, I’m breaking the ice and writing to you. Obi-Wan says it’s rude that I still haven’t responded to your letter about not coming to Parent’s Day and he rarely lets up on this sort of thing. It’s like he’s been programmed to act like an eighty year old man even though he’s like 16. I mean, you’ve seen him. He tucks his shirts way too tight to be comfortable. Anyway, I guess he is right in a way, because I did have good news that I wanted to share with you: I got a new broom! Not just any broom either, but a Firebolt Supreme! And it flies SOOOOOOOOOOO fast and high! Before you ask, the Kenobi’s got it for me after Parent’s Day (they filled in when SOMEONE couldn’t make it), because they were pretty pressed that I was still using the school’s brooms.
Not that I NEED the edge, but it definitely feels like I’m no longer playing with a hand tied behind my back. It’s crazy how they make brooms that fly differently. I wonder if it’s different from cars that move faster? I didn’t realize magic was so complicated, but apparently, magical engineers do exist.
Also, Rex made the team too! He’s been pretty quiet about it. I guess he’s just trying to let it all sink in. I know I was pretty amazed when I made the team too. He’s just going to be a backup though, but Cody says that one day he’ll get to start! That’ll be fun, because I feel like Rex and I are a team within the team as it is.
I haven’t just been hanging out with Rex these days though. I’ve been welcomed into the older, cool kids crew across all the houses. They say I’ve got a big personality to make up for what I lack in height, but I just say I’m due for a growth spurt. Patiently waiting for that to come still.
I’m trying to distance myself between Padmé, the girl I used to like, because I don’t want her to get the wrong idea. Falling in love with me would be a big mistake and it’s already been proved as a theory! Some hypnotized witch snuck into the school during Parent’s Day tried to kill me. Obi-Wan stopped her before she could even get the chance and I didn’t even realize he’d have it in him to react like that! His parents blame Yoda for her sneaking in, which kind of makes sense since he runs the school. I’m not too worried about it, honestly, because I’m the Chosen One. I can’t die without doing all the things the prophecy says. THAT’S why I’m glad I’m keeping distance between me and Padmé. I don’t want her roped into all of that. Superheroes’ girlfriends are always used against them.
Before you worry too much, I’m totally fine! Everyone is running around like crazy trying to figure out how this even happened. They were bragging about all the security they set up, but I think they forget that Dooku (who is definitely behind this, let’s be real) used to work here for a really long time and probably knows his way around.
That’s about it on what’s been going on around here. School is school and Windu still isn’t a big fan of me, but even he can’t deny that I’m the best in his class. Obi-Wan says my marks are better than last year’s already and I should keep up whatever I’m doing. I try to tell him that heroes can’t fail, but he doesn’t really buy that as an answer. Write back when you can. I still love you!
~ Anakin
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Obligation (Tendou x Reader) - Part 4
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Title: Obligation
Pairing: Mafia AU Tendou x F!Reader
Characters: Includes characters from both Shiratorizawa and Seijoh/Some OC background characters
Includes: Swearing, Mentions of Guns/Knives and Violence
Status: Complete
Word Count: 1.3k
Previous Next
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You didn't even have to think about it. Of course you wanted him to be the one to show you around. Honestly, while seeing the house again would hopefully ingrain the layout in your mind, in the end this was just an excuse to spend time with him. It wasn't a stretch to say he had been the first person you'd ever really had any interest in. There were plenty of good looking people back home sure but, to you, they were more or less like family or co-workers. The idea of any of them being a romantic interest was both gross to think about and not gonna happen. Sometimes you wondered if you'd even get the chance to meet someone. Its not like you got to leave the house on your own and no one was going to approach you with a cross looking Kimura at your side. The first time you set eyes on Tendou, you felt an immediate rush of intrigue. He was eye-catching to say the least. Cherry red hair spiked up and away from his scalp, while his sleepy eyes were a darker shade of red. Put simply, Tendou was beautiful. From his smile to his laugh, it all drew you in, made you want to try and get his attention. It didn't take long for you to get it either, soon the two of you were often together, and the first time you heard him laugh sealed it for you, you had a big fat crush.
Now the two of you walked with purpose through the home, Tendou pointing out random little details while you listened with enthusiasm. Some of the facts were, odd, but you found them all the more interesting. For instance, the previous underboss had gotten super drunk one Christmas and used an antique vase from the Ming dynasty as his own barf bucket. That vase, by the way, had been a gift to the first head of the family by the Emperor at the time.
.
..
.
"And finally, the garden." Tendou swung the door open, holding it ajar while you passed through the doorway. You stepped out, squinting and shielding your eyes from the sun until your eyes adjusted to the bright outdoor light. The garden was, in one word, gorgeous. There were so many varieties flowers and trees and plants crammed into it. There was so much to see you couldn't tell what was what at first glance, though a pair of wisteria trees on the far side of the garden caught your eye, nearby were rows of hydrangea growing near the gate.
Tendou fixed his eyes on you, watching as your eyes darted around the outdoor space. The garden seemed to have made you very happy and as you carefully moved around looking at the different plants and flowers, he couldn't help but notice how lovely you looked illuminated by the sun and surrounded by the lush greenery. A smile settled onto his lips as he watched you quietly, enjoying the view while you explored.
"It's breathtaking." You murmur, fingers gently gliding across the petals of some Red Spider Lilies.
"Mhm.." He hummed, but he wasn't looking at flowers, he only had eyes for you at the moment. Nothing in this garden was as pretty as you. Satori hadn't expected you to be so enthusiastic to see him again. When you'd admitted how you wanted him to be the one to show you around the house, his heart had fluttered. It was all so unexpected. He wanted to just let go of the pessimistic thoughts that plagued his mind, he wanted to enjoy the time he was spending with you but that was easier said that done. His whole life had been spent with people pretending around him, only saying what they thought he wanted to hear and when they had what they wanted, they left. Was there a chance, even a small one, that your actions and words were legitimate? A vibration in his pocket soon pulled him out of his deliberation and sighed as he laid eyes on the screen.
"Looks like our time is up for now." He mumbled tapping out a reply.
You turn, a small frown pulling at the smile on your lips. You knew he'd only had a little time to spare for you but even still the time had passed by far too fast and you were already trying to think of a way to see him again soon. With a push against your thighs you stand, having crouched before a little grouping of bellflowers to get a better look.
"Oh, ok. Well, Thanks for showing me around."
"S'all good. Maybe next time you come to my office it'll be on purpose." He teases and gives you a lop sided grin before turning to leave. You'd only spent a short time together this morning but you were already looking forward to the next time you saw him. You noted though he didn't seem as animated as he had been before. Had something happened? It had been quite awhile since you had seen each other, any number of things could have occurred, or maybe he just wasn't as comfortable around you as he had been. With that in mind you call out to him.
"Tendou! Uh...if you find yourself with some free time later on, come find me."
"Hmm, we'll see..." And with that he disappeared into the house.
.
..
.
"I can't believe I'm going to marry him..." You uttered the words to yourself with a smile and turn to go explore the rest of the garden.
"So, you're the demons bride?" A sharp feminine interrupts the stillness of the garden, its owner appearing from around a nearby tree. You jolt with surprise at the voice, unaware someone else was out here. You turn to see the woman casually lean against the trunk of the tree, fixing dark appraising eyes on you. She was about your height with angular features and long dark hair. Her expression shifted looking almost sympathetic if not for sneer on her lips.
"You poor thing, must be horrified to be paired with such a monster."
Any sort of kindness you'd had in your expression dropped at her words. "What?" You turn your body towards her, arms crossing along your chest as you give her a chance to redeem herself. You knew the sorts of things people said about Tendou, and you knew they were essentially a version of him, but they weren't who he really was. Tendou had always been kind to you. He'd always been able to bring a smile to your face and it pained you to hear someone say such a cruel thing about him in front of you. When she remained silent, you spoke up instead, trying very hard to sound passive, your choice of words almost giving her the benefit of the doubt. "I think you might have the wrong idea."
"Do I?" Her head tilts to the side, as she narrows her eyes at you curiously. "Don't tell me, you actually like him?" The question is followed by a snort, her expression full of disbelief. There was just no way. She'd had her sights set on him for awhile now and arranged marriage or not, she would have him. It wasn't that she particularly liked the man, but the power and position he held were very attractive.
You grit your teeth, attempting to hold back your words. At the moment you had no idea who this person was and, while you wanted to tear a strip off of her...perhaps literally, you had to be careful for now. So with a shrug you turn away. "Ok then, I won't." And with that you leave, she stares at you as you disappear into the house, her mouth slightly agape in surprise, eyes burning into your back.
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Oh gasps, I'm shocked.
Who would have thunk it?
The story:
Updated with Sunday figures: In the wake of Terminator: Dark Fate’s failure at the B.O., and Paramount’s recent decision to make Beverly Cops 4 for Netflix, we have the further breakdown of cinema IP in Sony’s Charlie’s Angels reboot, which is tanking with a God-awful $8.6M domestic opening, $27.9M worldwide (from 26 markets), 3 Stars on Screen Engine-Comscore’s PostTrak, and a B+ Cinemascore.
The Elizabeth Banks-directed-written and produced pic is also opening in 27 offshore markets,
China being one where it’s also bombing,
with a $7.8M 3-day take in third place behind No. 1 local title Somewhere Winter ($13.1M).
All of this is primed to further spur a WTF reaction and anxiety among film development executives in town in regards to what the hell exactly works in this have-and-have-not era of the theatrical marketplace. Many will make the hasty generalization that old, dusty IP doesn’t work, or is now deemed too risky when it’s not a superhero project. However, moviemaking is an art, not a science, and annoying as it might sound, good movies float to the top, and this Charlie’s Angels reboot didn’t have the goods going back to its script.
<Maybe somebody should have been working on a good story instead of pushing an agenda.
We’re going to break down for you what went wrong in another graph, but we don’t want to bury the success of Disney’s release of Fox’s James Mangold-directed Ford v Ferrari, which looks to be coming in at $31.5M, well ahead of the $20M+ many were seeing, with an awesome A+ CinemaScore and 4 1/2 stars and a 68% definite recommend on Screen Engine/Comscore’s PostTrak. After a franchise-laden summer which buried originals, now an original pic is sticking it to the IP.
When it comes to the bombing of Charlie’s Angels, the takeaway is this is what happens when you have IP, but there’s no reason for telling the story.
In the walk-up to developing Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle, and in the wake of its near $1 billion success, a fever broke out at the Culver City lot in the post-Amy Pascal era to reboot former Sony franchises or extend them, i.e. Zombieland: Double Tap (well over $103M at the global B.O. now), the upcoming Bad Boys 3, and, of course, Spider-Man, the latter electrified by Disney’s Marvel. Development studio executives define their being by getting films greenlit, and whenever that happens, it’s 90% of the job.
And the pressure is on to fill a 10-12 picture annual slate in a world where Disney vacuums up all the best IP. A third Charlie’s Angels with McG directing and Drew Barrymore, Cameron Diaz and Lucy Liu starring, wasn’t made immediately after the second chapter, 2003’s Full Throttle, as the sequel turned out to be 29% more expensive than the 2000 original at $120M, and also made less worldwide, $259.1M to $264.1M. With Elizabeth Banks coming off her hot feature directorial debut with Universal’s Pitch Perfect 2 (which over-indexed in its stateside opening at the B.O., going from $50M projections to $69.2M, and finaled global at $287.1M); after she expressed interest in September 2015 in taking on a Charlie’s Angels reboot with a modern feminist spin, there was no question in Sony’s mind that the project should move forward.
<Yeah Sony, how's that working out for you? You think they would have learned their lesson...
Guess not.
Back to the story.....
However, there were script problems, I hear, that could never be resolved. A few months after Banks boarded, Evan Spiliotopoulos came on to write. By the time cast was assembled in July 2018, Banks had penned the latest draft off a script by Jay Basu (The Girl in the Spider’s Web), and earlier drafts by Craig Mazin and Semi Chellas. Andrea Giannetti oversaw the project on the lot. However, I hear that the script for Charlie’s Angels didn’t really attract top talent, i.e. Jennifer Lawrence, Emma Stone and Margot Robbie (a trio that would have potentially jazzed up business). Hence, why the production opted to go with largely a fresh face cast outside of Kristen Stewart. While we overwrite that stars mean nothing at the box office, they do, sometimes, when it comes to propping IP, and unfortunately and arguably, no one in Middle America knows who British actress Ella Balinska is, and they’ve only became recently acquainted with Naomi Scott from Disney’s Aladdin and Lionsgate’s Power Rangers. Stewart, who is hysterical in the movie and even needed more funny bits, is in a different place in her career professionally, publicly, and privately. It’s unfair to think that she could delver her Twilight fans now.
Had she done Charlie’s Angels promptly in the swell of the Twilight whirlwind (like Snow White and the Huntsmen) then maybe it would have popped.
But she has largely been dormant from popcorn wide releases for the last seven years since 2012’s Twilight: Breaking Dawn – Part 2, busy excelling and wowing in specialty awards season and festival fare like Clouds of Sils Maria, Still Alice, and this year’s Seberg, to name a few. Stewart needed to be paired with equal or bigger-name actresses.
was a one quadrant movie, eyed at women 13-39, especially given its lack of action scenes, and wisely limited their exposure to what I hear is 50%, with co-finance partners 2.0 Entertainment and Perfect World. Sony claims the budget is $48M net; we’ve heard in the mid $50Ms. Tax incentives were taken in the pic’s Berlin and Hamburg shoots. Perhaps Sony should have spent more, because Charlie’s Angels biggest problem is that it has very low-octane, we’ve-seen-it-all-before action scenes. Heck, there’s more action in a 1980s Chuck Norris movie. After watching Charlie’s Angels earlier this week, I put the first two McG movies on Netflix, and it was like watching Star Wars in comparison to this reboot, with his sharp production design, camera movements, unique action, and comedy set pieces, and, of course, the first movie blasted Sam Rockwell out of a cannon. Understand that the first two movies in the series were able to compete and hold their own in an action space where, yes, Mission: Impossible and Fast & Furious (the first two films came out in 2001 and 2003) also thrived. Mission and Fast sequels distinguish themselves on multiple 10-minute action sequences that we’ve never seen before on screen; it doesn’t matter who the villain is. This Charlie’s Angels doesn’t have that. And not even a super-duper hit song “Don’t Call Me Angel” for the movie from Ariana Grande, Miley Cyrus, and Lana Del Ray can trigger lines at the multiplex; the music video clocking over 116M views on YouTube, per entertainment social media monitor RelishMix.
Some will claim that Banks’ version was never intended to emulate the meat and potatoes version of McG’s films; that this version was expected to be more comedic, and more feminist. Unfortunately, after McG set the table here with the franchise as an action film, you can’t reverse it. You can only outdo him. And with a franchise movie like Charlie’s Angels, you can’t make it for a one quadrant audience.
The film arrived on tracking with a $12M-$13M start, and really never budged, but sank. That means marketing didn’t work. I heard that a $100M global P&A was first planned on Charlie’s Angels, with the studio now reducing that overall cost greatly to around $50M and pulling back on expensive ads. Another hurdle in activating the young girl demo is that much of the pic’s cast isn’t on social media. RelishMix says that Banks is the social media star with over 6.6M followers across Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, with Scott counting 3.4M.
Sony kept pushing Charlie’s Angels, which in hindsight means there were development issues. In May 2017, a release date was announced for June 7, 2019. When the cast was locked down in July 2018, Charlie’s got moved to Sept. 27, 2019. In October 2018 when Warners pushed Wonder Woman 1984 from the first weekend in November to summer, Charlie‘s took over the autumn spot, which was the same exact place the original 2000 opened. However, when Terminator: Dark Fate moved onto the same first weekend in November, Charlie‘s relocated to this weekend as they vied for a China release which they ultimately got.
Charlie’s Angels drew a 66% female crowd, split between 36% over 25 and 30% under 25. But both demos respectively graded it low at 68% and 79%, with men at 35% giving it a 68% grade on PostTrak. Diversity breakdown was 52% Caucasian, 21% Hispanic, 14% Asian/Other, & 13% African American. Charlie’s Angels best markets were on the coasts and big cities. But again, nothing to brag about in Friday’s $3.2M gross, which includes $900K from Thursday and Wednesday previews.
Says RelishMix, which also foresaw this disaster approaching on social media chatter, “Angels is the latest example in a ‘woke’ effort to reboot a franchise that many were not all that interested in to start with. In fact, many references to the 2000 version get a call-out as a reason this one doesn’t seem to compare – whether it’s the cast or the action teased from the film.
And, as observed with other recent films, some action/adventure, unfortunately fans say they’re steering clear of this one because of its ‘girl power’ messaging.”
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Birth Of A Liar Part Three
||Part One||Part Two||Part Three||Part Four||Part Five||
Oh boy, I have some angst in store for you today let me tell you. This poor boy has been through a lot.
Trigger warning for murder, taking care of babies, bl**d, and cl*wns
DICE...everyone liked the sound of that. Hanako gloated that it was like she was in one of those secret spy organizations like in the movies and, well Kokichi couldn’t agree more. He did sneak into a cinema once or twice so he knew a thing or two about evil organizations. Not that he thought he was evil, hell no, couldn’t be farther from the truth. But from Maki and Goro’s comments about stealing being evil it was kind of hard not to have that mindset.
So he went with it. Even practiced making evil faces in the mirror a few times. Practice makes perfect after all.
And would you know it the young boy actually loved having company. Sure Goro was quiet and always apologizing for the dumbest things, Maki scared the shit out of him, and Hanako cried for almost everything, but it was fine. Besides, Hanako taught him a really great trick to guilt-trip adults. All he had to do was cry. That easy. Just cause a scene and everyone would go to your aid. Plus with extra people they were able to get more things like televisions and game consoles. It wasn’t stealing, it was giving to orphans and that wasn’t evil...right?
However it really wasn’t an organization with only four people...in the movies they had more members. So once as Kokichi was sitting in front of the store he usually steals or guilt-trips people to buy from he sees something odd going on in the street. A woman carrying a bundle in her arms while another man chases her from behind. He seemed to have a gun in his hands, the woman was running for her life! A headache filled the boy’s head as a memory crossed his mind. He was smaller. A woman with black hair holding him. A man with purple hair knocking a gun out of the hand of a man pointing it right for him. Cringing at the slight pain Kokichi held his head. He didn’t know why he did this but he got up and chased the man.
His feet were not as fast as the man however and out of no where there’s a loud bang. Then a baby crying. Kokichi quickly hid behind a brick wall. It was a good thing he did too, since the gunned ban came out of the alleyway with a handful of cash leaving a crying baby at his wake. Should he dare look back there? He definitely wouldn’t like what he was going to see. Still he turned around slowly into the dark alleyway. The woman was face down in a puddle of blood while the baby cries brokenhearted and afraid beside her. Cautiously Kokichi approached the woman and checked for signs of life. There was none. Also for a second he could see the woman being that black haired woman carrying him in his memories which made him gasp and fall back.
“N-No...t-that’s not mama...” He consoled himself. She’s probably okay and will come back for him, after all the body was gone the next day, who’s to say an ambulance didn’t pick her and his father up and bring them to safety? Now they’re just looking for him! But this baby...what if something happens to it? It was much too young to take care of itself like he was. Ooooh but what would Maki and the rest say? He has to decide quickly, the sounds of sirens were coming closer and closer.
-------------------
“YOU BROUGHT HOME A BABY?!” Maki’s loud tone of voice made Kokichi jump and the baby cry even louder. “Yeah! It’s our new pet! Surprise!” Maybe if he pretends it’s a gift they won’t get so mad. He was wrong. Goro smiles politely, even if it was easy to see the baby just made more worry on him. Maki was very angry, angry enough to beat Kokichi to a bloody pulp and she probably would have if he wasn’t cradling a baby in his arms. Hanako was very excited though, jumping up and down to try to see the baby.
“Babies aren’t pets, dipshit.” Maki growled holding her temples. She does her best not to curse in front of little ones but by God was she in a bad mood. Even Goro could see the steam rising out of her. Maybe he should try to heal the situation a little bit.
“Now now, Maki. You did the same thing when Hanako was in danger.” Goro tries to put a hand on his sister’s shoulder before she pulls away. “That was different! You can’t just STEAL a baby! What if the parents find out? What if they find out about us?”
Kokichi was silent, he shows the blanket with a bloodstain on it.
“They won’t...it’s mom is dead.”
“D-Don’t call them an ‘it’! And what about their dad?!”
“I-I dunno! W-Why are you yelling at me? You’re scaring the baby!”
Maki quickly took the baby from Kokichi’s arms and examined them. Their cries getting louder and louder, the baby thrashed and moved. Finally Maki looks at the others, her eyes closed. “They need a diaper change.”
“W-What?!”
“N-No way am I doing that again! I already used to change yours, I’m not doing THAT again.”
“Ewww hehehe!”
“You don’t have to. You just need to get me some diapers and diaper cream. You steal from the store all the time, right?” Maki states, bouncing the baby on her shoulder. That oddly seemed to calm it down a little. How was she this gifted with kids? “Fine, but don’t let it barf or poop or whatever on our stuff. Hana, stay with Maki and help her with the baby. Goro, come with me.” True to his leader form Kokichi gives orders imminently and the rest follow. Perhaps what Maki said was right. Being a leader does run in his “jeans”. As ordered Kokichi managed to snag a bag of diapers and diaper cream as Goro distracted the workers as usual. Man Kokichi hopes he doesn’t grow much taller because stealing is way easy because of his height. At long last they arrive at the abandoned building they lived in.
“We got the-”
“Give me that.” Maki practically took the supplies out of his arms. She must be really desperate to stop the infants crying. Even Hanako was covering her ears. Swiftly Maki places the baby on a table and begins working. Curiously Kokichi looked over Maki’s shoulder to see what she was doing and then quickly regrets it, his face turning green and close to dry heaving. That was a horrible idea. Yet Maki seemed...unbothered by it? It was almost mesmerizing at how fast she changed them. Once she was done the crying...stopped?
“Did you fix it?” Kokichi asked, now feeling better from the peace and quiet without the baby yowling.
“Did you fix him. He’s a boy.” Maki corrects him as she cradles the child. “And yes. He’s fine now. Also his name is Kenji...” The baby quickly falls asleep in her arms finally making the place quiet.
“How do you know?” asked Goro tilting his head to the side. Maki simply shows Kenji’s tiny chubby arm to reveal a hospital bracelet on it.
-Kenji Date, DOB: 7/6/20XX, Paitent ID: 11037
So the baby was probably born recently given how close the dates were, maybe about one month old. Still Maki was looking angry with Kokichi, but didn’t do anything. “C’moooon you can’t stay mad at me forever can you? Look at this faaaace. It would be sad without my ultimate assassin friend.”
“Call me that again and you’ll be the next victim...” she warns, her eyes narrowing again. “But aren’t assassins and murderers different things?” Kokichi asks, honestly confused. “They’re the same thing, dumbass...” Well shit he didn’t know. Another awkward silence.
“I guess everything worked out in the end though. And hey! We can add more members with other orphans! Think of this, a whole network of orphans working together to protect each other!”
Maki shook her head. “That sounds like a cartoon...”
“But you’d watch it, wouldn’t you?”
“Fine, I guess so...but no babies okay? They’re really hard to take care of as it is.”
And with that promise, DICE gained more and more members. In about a few years the whole place would be practically crawling with orphans or kids who wanted to be away from abusive homes. In fact so many orphans had lived there that they even had to move some to upstairs rooms. And with more members came cool new stuff! More toys, books, games, anything they could steal they would. It was like running their own little orphanage. However they did have to have some other leaders in power too making sure the other’s stayed in line. Kokichi picked nine others to “co-star” as he put it in his operation. Of course Maki was one, so was Goro, but because he was immature only the tall kids get to be the co-leaders.
“But you’re shorter than all of them! How are you leader?” Hanako asked one day as everyone was making masks to wear for Halloween to play their usual pranks and to hide their identity. “Because I came up with this idea so, as it’s so plainly obvious to see, I should be leader!” Kokichi grins booping the girl on the nose. “Hmph! Well I thought only tall people could be leader so...”
“Nhyhehehe, oh Hana. Tell you what, if anything ever happens to me, you become leader okay?” He tips his leader hat and flaunts his cape as if he was trying to be dramatic. Though how dramatic can you be with an old baseball cap and a tattered old bed sheet flowing behind you? Hanako looked hopeful as her eyes sparkled. “I can have the hat and cape too?” Kokichi dramatically held the bed sheet in front of himself like a vampire would. “Any perks of being DICE leader you can have. But I won’t be leaving any time soon you know~”
As the children drew their masks, Kokichi starts the meeting.
“Hello my fellow crime syndicates! As you know, today is Halloween. We’ve been waiting for this day all year my friends. And finally it came!” The whole building filled with applause which made him laugh. Maki just shook her head. If he keep it up they’ll be found out but he kept everyone so...so together. “Now I know what you’re thinking...’why would we be making clown masks for?’ Well I’ll tell you! Bring in the boxes!”
Hoards of boxes came rushing in being displayed in front of all the children eliciting “oohs” and “ahhs” This was probably their biggest heist yet! Never have the kids seen so much stuff come in before, not even food. What sort of wonders awaited inside those containers? “Now, open!” The bigger kids opened the box to reveal the most amazing thing! Costumes and prank supplies covered the ground. This was the year! This was the year they have an actual, real Halloween! All the kids went forward to grab some stuff but the co-leaders organized them into a single file line to make sure everyone got a costume and supplies.
“Sorry, all the costumes are clown costumes but, hey that’s why I made you all make the masks!” Kokichi exclaimed. Everyone didn’t mind. This was a fun activity and now they had something they can do that normal kids with parents usually do! However Maki was the only one to speak up. “You got crates of costumes? How do you expect not to get caught?! You know they have security cameras, right?” Kokichi shrugged his shoulders and places his hands behind his head. “So? Look at their faces! Even Kenji and Hanako are smiling! Worrying about that stuff will just ruin the moment so just reeeelax a bit Maki.” It was true. The kids looked more happy than ever. But something inside her seemed like this was going to be a bad idea...
Once everyone was dressed they all hit the streets. Each child knew about their one rule: no killing. Their leader was against murder in any way possible teaching the children how horrible death was and how they should avoid it. All of the kids got a costume, as well as eight of the Co-Leaders, but Maki and Kokichi were left without one. “I don’t mind. As long as the kids have one I will just go as Kokichi Ouma for Halloween.”
Boy was this the most fun these children have ever had, With their clown suits and masks on their faces they made mischief in the city. Toilet paper rolls on houses, chalk graffiti on walls, water buckets on doors, the whole place was crawling with little clown gremlins causing mayhem in their wake. It was enough to make Kokichi proud. “Oh this is enough to bring a tear to my eye~!” The leader claims dramatically. Maki just rolled her eyes and said nothing, however she was happy to see the children having the time of their lives. However she stops as she was walking, looking like a deer in headlights at the televisions in a shop window. Kokichi waves his hand in front of her as to get a reaction. All she could do was point.
A newscaster on the screen started talking, a picture of a clown at his side, underneath the headline states: “Clown thieves hit the streets”. Kokichi could feel the lump forming in his throat.
“Good evening.” The newscaster began as he bangs his stack of papers on the table once to align them. “A group of pranksters? Or a group of kidnappers? A hoard of clown suit wearing children hit the streets today causing panic and anger across the city. We have no idea where they come from or what they want, but they continue to wreak everything in their path. We go live to our reporter, Michiko Nakajima.” The screen changes to a woman in a dress with a microphone in her hands. Kokichi could have sworn that the woman was behind him somewhere.
“Thank you, Natsumi-San. I am standing here on the very street where young Kenji Date was taken from his mother’s arms seven years ago. His mother shot dead in an abandoned alley. They couldn’t find the killer or the child’s body, however one clown who has been taken into custody had Kenji’s hospital bracelet in his pocket!” The screen shows a picture of Kenji, his mask off, looking sad and disappointed. The two leaders could feel their souls about to fly from their body.
“I like where I am! You’re not gonna take me to some stinky orphanage!” Kenji exclaimed on the screen as two men take him away. “Luckily the father was still alive to bring little Kenji back home to his rightful place.” The reporter finishes as it then cuts to a man who has red puffy eyes. It seems he had been crying. This makes Kokichi feel immense guilt rise up in the pit of his stomach. “I’m just happy I can finally see my son...these clown people took seven years of me getting to know him.” The man looks like he could break down at any second. “He won’t even call me ‘dad’, he just says ‘where’s Kokichi and Maki’ or ‘Kokichi will save me’!”
The name “Kenji” meant “an intelligent child” but also meant “ public prosecutor”. It all made sense in a way. Just like his own name, “Kokichi”, meant “little luck”. Right now he was having no luck. Maki was beginning to sweat too. From the corner of her eye she could see the news reporter and camera crew come closer. “This makes it even more curious. Years ago another child had been lost after his parents death. Kokichi Ouma, then three years old, was deemed lost as both his parents were killed by his father’s own gang. Another, Maki Haruwaka, the youngest of many children, killed her father in cold blood before leaving with her older brother Goro Haruwaka. Both these children have yet to be found, but law enforcement is still on the look out.”
Without warning Maki began to run. She knew this was a horrible idea! No one would even know their secret if Kokichi just did an inside Halloween party instead like they usually do.
“M-Maki wait-”
But it was too late, she already ran too far. He tries to catch her, but was stopped by a big brawny man who held him by the shoulders. Kokichi kicked and thrashed, but the man had no trouble taking him to where he wanted him to go.
“Maki!!!”
The newscaster looks back at the camera, obviously excited by this rise in the story she was reporting.
“We have word that we might have just found the lost children Kokichi Ouma and Maki Haruwaka! Could this be a clue to find more missing children? We will give updates as soon as they’re avalible. Michiko Nakajima, Tokyo news.”
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Summer Love: Chapter Two
A/N: So to begin, I have absolutely nothing against Lyn-Z. I have a whole post about this and why we as fans of Gerard shouldn’t hate her, because she makes him happy. That being said for the sake of this fic she is being put into a hated position. So I’m sorry about that, but that’s just how it’s going to roll. Once again, I have nothing against Lyn-Z but for the sake of this fic she’s going to be “bad”. Also I haven’t updated in a few weeks... sorry about that.
Word count: 2368
Bright and early at 8 am your alarm clark went blaring. You rolled over on your bed, groaning and attempting to shut it off, keeping your eyes closed. Of course, it didn’t work. You ended up having to sit up and turn it off, resulting in the sun directly hitting your eyes. “Shit.” You muttered.
“Good morning, sunshine.” You heard Melanie already up working on something. She was a morning person. You growled. “Someone’s not happy.”
“Oh, I’m thrilled to be up.” You sarcastically rolled your eyes. Your feet touched the freezing floor. You got up, grabbing a pair of jeans shorts, a large black belt, and a Green Day shirt from their concert you went to just a few months back. You went into the showers, preparing for the cold droplets to hit your skin which had yet to reel from the warm feeling of the bed.
“Remember, breakfast is in 25!” Mel called from the main area of the cabin. After turning on the shower, you let it sit for around a minute before getting in. The temperature of the water helped awake you even more. You ran your fingers which were soaked with shampoo through your hair, making sure to scrub deeply. Next you took your loofa and coconut scented soap, scrubbing all over your body. It didn’t take you longer than five minutes to get completely scrubbed off.
You changed quickly, using your towel to mess with your hair to let it air dry. You ran out, grabbing your pair of beaten Vans high tops and went out with Melanie, your hair hanging loose and wet.
The two of you walked in right as breakfast was starting, meeting the boys at the table. “Hey guys.” Mikey greeted you two, you both smiled.
“Y/N looks like a wet rat.” Frank snickered.
“Thanks,” You smirked, “That’s the look I was going for.”
“Did you just disrespect Green Day?” Ray asked Frank.
“No, Y/N did.” This time you punched Frank’s arm.
“Hey Y/N/N.” Gerard greeted you.
“Hey Gee.” You sat next to him and smiled. You all waited for your table to be called up, some of you grabbing the full selection of eggs, bacons, and pancakes. You just grabbed fruit, not being that hungry.
“So what’s everyone taking?” Melanie asked.
“I’m taking graffiti art.” Frank smirked.
“Who would let you sign up for that?” Ray asked.
“I don’t know,” He smiled, “I just signed up for it and they gave it to me.”
“I’m taking storytelling in writing.” Mikey said.
“A very Mikey class.” You added.
“I’m taking art history.” Ray said.
“That’s even more of a Ray class.” Melanie concluded.
“Photography.” You said.
“Does that mean you’re gonna take nudes?” You threw a piece of your apple at Frank.
“Absolutely not,” You rolled your eyes, “I’m a self respecting woman.” You looked over at Gerard who was blushing.
“Um, I’m taking cartooning.” He lightly smiled.
“I’m taking graphics.” Melanie ended the conversation. You all continued eating as fast as you could without chocking. Once finishing, all of you dispersed back to your cabins to grab your things before meeting at a small area on the lake to hang before the day officially began.
“What’s up losers.” She greeted the group, the two of you being last. “Can’t wait for this day to start.”
“I’m dreading taking classes.” Frank said.
“Why?” You asked.
“Ever since they got rid of the music program this place has gone down hill.”
“Music program?” Gerard asked from across the picnic table where he sat next to Ray.
“Yeah, there used to be a music program here but they dropped it due to budget cuts. And to get jet skies.” You explained.
“Stupid fucking jet skies that nobody fucking uses because they’re dumb.” Frank added on.
“If you can’t tell, Frank has yet to get over it.”
“Over it?” He snapped. “That was the whole reason I got in!”
“Yeah, I know.” You sighed. “But this place doesn’t suck.”
“The only thing that doesn’t completely suck are you guys.” He said.
“Dude, we’re literally on a lake.” You pointed to the body of water ahead of you.
“And?”
“Lakes are super fun.” He rolled his eyes.
“Whatever.”
“We need to reserve the bonfire for tonight.” Melanie spoke up. Everyone nodded. “Who’s gonna sign up at lunch?”
“I will.” Ray spoke up, “My class is right next to the cafeteria.” You all nodded.
“How’re we all feeling about today?” Melanie moved on.
“Good.” Most of us answered.
“Nervous.” Gerard lightly smiled.
“You’ll be totally fine.” You smiled, “You’re a pretty good guy.”
“That’s what I keep telling him.” Mikey said.
“Thanks.” He looked at you.
“Speaking of, it’s quite the walk to most of our classes. We should probably go.” Frank spoke up. You all nodded. You went up to Gerard once everyone began dispersing.
“Ready?” You asked.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He said, walking next to you to a trail in the woods.
“It’s always so beautiful out here.” You looked up and around at the various forestry around you. There wasn’t a bare spot for as far as you could see, except for the slim dirt path ahead of you.
“It is beautiful.” He agreed, doing the same as you. You two walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence, just admiring the different areas of the forested area before reaching the small wooden building that held your sketching class.
You walked down a small hallway and into the room number 4. It was a small cozy area, classes had no more than eight students. There were small tables where two people could sit, you and Gerard taking one closest to the window. The walls were lined with various pieces and a small blackboard was up front.
You two grabbed some stuff from your bags as your professor came over to you two. “Ms. Y/L/N.” He said. Larry was an older man. He was 72, and still kicking it with the spirit of a 25 year old. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.” He smiled.
“You too, Mr. Breck.” You smiled. He looked over to Gerard.
“And who is this?” He looked.
“I’m Gerard, Gerard Way.” He lightly smiled, reaching his hand out to let him shake it.
“Well, Mr. Way it’s a pleasure.” They both smiled. Mr. Breck went back to his oak desk, sitting behind it as Gerard and you began to occupy yourselves by sketching. You opened one of your pages that you had begun working on. It was of a girl, you weren’t sure the inspiration you just began drawing her.
“You drew that?” Gerard asked, lightly smiling. You nodded.
“Yeah.” You lightly smiled back.
“It’s incredible.” He looked at it further, his eyes scanning every centimeter.
“Thanks.” You told him. A few more people had come in, taking seats around the room as you and Gee continued drawing. Right before class began you heard some giggling behind you. You could identify that noise from anywhere.
Looking behind you, you saw the group of three girls laughing, the leader was easily seen. Her medium length black hair flowed well, she had a pale complexion that fit her perfectly. Her light red lipstick added a pop of color to her primarily black outfit (and personality). You sighed and turned forward again.
“Are you alright?” Gerard asked lightly.
“Yeah, I’m good.” You tightly smiled back, going back to sketching.
“Alright, now that every body is here,” Mr. Breck stood up in front of everyone, “I think we should begin.” The old man began walking around the class viewing everyone’s books filled with their work. He spent at least a few seconds looking at them before asking everyone to take them out, regardless of how complete they were.
“Now all of these,” He hung them on the board up front, “Will be your inspiration for the next six weeks.” He looked back to all of you, “This is the absolute worst piece you can do. This is the bare minimum I want from all of you.” He said, “You will be better when you leave this class. You will work on your technique until it is nearly perfect. Because we don’t want perfect in art, we want you. Now I want you all to draw whatever comes to mind. You have 15 minutes, your time starts now.”
You weren’t sure what to do, so you just decided on trees. Cliche, but quick and easy. You drew a forested area, making sure to incorporate shadows where necessary and a small trail. You focused on your work until a small timer ticked off. It slightly scared you, put you placed your pencil down, Mr. Breck already starting to collect pages.
“I’ll evaluate these tonight, and bring you all feedback tomorrow.” He stated, making a neat pile of the pages on his desk. He quickly transitioned into talking about techniques for various elements like shadowing. You and Gerard both followed along closely, adding some of the skills to your pre existing works.
“That should be all.” He sighed, looking at his watch. “Class dismissed.” You and Gerard began putting your things in your bags.
“What did you think?” You asked Gerard, who looked down at you as you two began walking out.
“It was nice.” He lightly smiled, “I like Mr. Breck a lot.”
“I do too.” You replied. As the two of you exited the building you once again heard the laugh of Lindsey. You couldn’t help but lightly look over, only to find her and her posse, but she specifically was eyeing Gerard up and down, lightly smiling. You looked away and gritted your teeth through your closed mouth, knowing she would be the ultimate enemy this summer.
The two of you continued walking back to main campus, planning on meeting everyone else at your typical table. You walked into the bustling area, immediately seeing everyone else at your table, considering their classes were closer than yours. “Hey guys.” You sat down with them, placing your bag on the floor next to you. “How’s everyone’s days going?” Most of the table answered with a good, or alright. Except Frank, of course.
“Terrible.” He sighed. You rolled your eyes.
“And why would that be?”
“Bro the first class was soooo boring.” He said, “Some shit about coloring or something.”
“Maybe if you listened you would know.” Ray responded.
“Shut up fro-head.” Eventually you all got in line for the sad excuse of sandwiches for lunch, but you only grabbed some fruit and vegetables considering that was some of the only edible food.
“Y/NNNNNNN,” Frank whined, “When will your parents ship us food?”
“Tomorrow.” You stated, taking a bit from your apple.
“But that’s far away.” He said. You rolled your eyes.
“Who’s that?” You heard Gerard from beside you. Everyone looked over to see he was of course looking at Lindsey. You lightly sighed, making sure not to draw attention.
“Lindsey Ballato.” Ray spoke up. Gerard nodded once, keeping his eyes fixated on her. Shit.
“I’m gonna go to the restroom.” You spoke up, breaking the awkward silence.
“You alright?” Mikey asked and you nodded. You quickly made your way out of the dining hall and down to your cabin. Stepping in the wooden box you managed to get your way to the bathroom, shutting the polished oak door and taking a deep breath, keeping your hand placed softly on the cold, metal handle.
Letting you breath regain it’s usual pattern, you sank to the white tile ground, leaning against the wall to the right of the door, a small crevice between the cheap wallpaper plastered on the frame and the ceramic sink.
Knowing Gerard for only a day you had already become attached, cursing yourself at the fact. He was way out of your league and you knew it. Your hands still trembled, trying to regain balance to no avail.
The sound of blood rushed through your ears, eventually slowing down, giving enough room for the essence of a knock from the door to sink in. You swallowed harshly. “Yes?”
“Y/N/N?” Melanie asked, “Are you alright?” You didn’t respond, small pools of salty water trailing down your cheeks. You could hear the door creak open, Melanie’s visibly concerned face coming into light. “What happened?” She asked sinking to the ground, grabbing and holding you as you sobbed into the shoulder of her t-shirt.
“I’m so fucking dumb.” You mumbled.
“What?” She asked.
“I should’ve know.” You scratched out, “I’m no good for him. I’ve known him for a day and look at me, pathetically attached like he’s my fucking soul mate or some shit.”
“This is about Gerard, isn’t it?” You nodded. She sighed. “I wish I had a good answer for you, but I don’t.”
“I never knew someone could get attached this easily.”
“Neither did I, to be honest with you.” You nodded, staring at your fingers. Then you heard some soft footsteps.
“Y/N?” You heard his voice, you and Melanie’s eyes both shooting open. She helped you up, grabbing some toilet paper and quickly washing the tears off your face. It didn’t help much with the swelling or redness which had also found it’s way to your appearance, and grabbing your hand hoisting you up to standing. “Hey,” He walked in, his face dropping from a light smile to a frown. “What’s wrong?” You looked at Melanie, who was too freaking out.
“Oh um, Y/N just started her period, yeah.” You aggressively nudged her, eyeing her, Gerard’s eyes going wide. That’s the best excuse? “Hormones, ya know.”
“Yeah, um,” Gerard stopped, nervously rubbing the back of his neck, “I-I should get going.” He tightly smiled, “If you need anything, just call me.” He looked to you and you nodded. He walked out with speed, closing the door behind him.
“What the fuck?” You turned to her. “My period?”
“I was freaking out okay?” She defended, “You turned to me and I had no clue what to do!” You huffed.
“That may have made it worse. A lot worse.”
“It’s fine, he’ll forget about it soon.”
“Mhm.” You rolled your eyes, “Sure. Sure he will.”
#gerard way x reader#gerard way fanfiction#my chemical romance#My Chem#my chemical gerard#my chemical gee#my chemical romance x reader#mcr fanfiction#mcr x reader#mcr#mcr gerard
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Text
These Violent Delights
Type: Westworld Fanfic
Wordcount: 3885
Pair: AngelaXLogan
Warnings: Smut included
Summary: Chapter One - Angela meets Logan, her first outside Guest, at the Investment party thrown to persuade him to Invest in the funding for WestWorld. She’s chosen to bait him into doing so but there’s something about this Guest that’s rather intriguing to her as well. Is he the spark to her sentience?
A multi-chapter fanfic that reveals more story to Angela and her draw to the first guest she encounters, Logan Delos. Creative liberties have been taken but theme and characters are owned by the creators of WestWorld.
//This is my first try at this! Please be nice xD
Chapter Two Link
Chapter One - The Other Girl
Chapter One - The Other Girl
(AngelaXLogan)
It was a last minute switch but this is what Angela had been made for. A Host so perfect that no Guest wouldn’t at the least be entranced by her. Curious about her, sparking wonder. She was made to love the Guests, to entice, to lure them deeper into the game at hand and to always leave them wanting more.
She was aware of what she was, but that seemed to be of no concern to the Creators. She knew what she had to do and she didn’t question it. So most of them thought at the least. The Argos Initiative had other ideas in mind, but that was hidden from the rest. An ever unfolding experiment that even she was part of.
While she finished dressing in her black cocktail dress the words of her task repeated in her mind. It couldn’t have been stressed enough that this Guest was an important one. One that could seal the deal for the survival and progression of their program. Her task was to entice him, persuade him and not lose the deal. If they could secure the Delos investment then they could continue with their project - WestWorld.
Delores hadn’t the appropriate improv skills to lure him, nor did Arnold feel comfortable using her as bait. But Angela? Not only somewhat self-aware, had the perfected skills and the lack of favoritism from Arnold to get thrown at the man. Whom she could only imagine was a much older, aging rich man with no sense of charm whatsoever. Regardless, she would do what she had to in order to secure the investment.
A smile was cast at herself into the mirror once she was finished dressing and she turned to leave the room, meeting up with her co-Host for the evening, the Indian man Akecheta. She follows him to the main lobby, waiting to be shown to Mr. Delos so that she could lead him to the demonstration. Nearing the table a blonde haired man brushes aside her, earning him a look of disinterest at his own quizzical stare but then she turns her gaze towards their investor.
Logan was seated at a table, already flirting with whatever lucky person happened to be sitting beside him. His fingers were curled around a champagne glass and one sultry sip later his attention was diverted by the entrance of the Argos Initiative introducing themselves. A look of wonder briefly crosses his face before it turns into his usual grin when he sees the girl. Of course they sent a pretty one, no doubt part of the ruse to try and secure his money as so many other companies had been attempting as well. Amusing, but he was not about to give in quite that easy. Either way, he dismisses his company and entertains them as they take their introductions and seats.
Angela was pleasantly surprised, her gaze not once leaving him as Akecheta offered the introductions. He wasn’t old at all, if anything he was quite pleasing on the eyes. The way he laid it down to them that he wasn’t about to be conned amused her so. These other companies he spoke of held no comparison and she couldn’t wait to show him. Her own grin matches his words as she takes her cue to speak up. “Everyone is rushing to build the virtual world. We’re offering something a little more...tangible.” She lifts a brow as she rises from her seat, that gaze still held steady upon him. “If you would follow, I can prove it to you.” She flashes that coy smile as she turns away to lead him to the demonstration room.
His attitude didn’t phase her. He could throw whatever little fit he wanted about wanting a private demonstration, or his doubts of the project, but she knew. She knew that the second she started the demonstration that she would have him. So confident, in fact, that she kept that smile upon her face as he turned to leave the room but she stepped forth, pushing him back a few steps with a touch of her fingers to his chest. “Logan. This is a private demonstration.” She tilts her head. “And it’s already begun.” She draws her hand away from him and upturns her palm to gesture to the room.
He caught on fast, his face shifting from annoyance to pure bemusement as he turned to gaze into the crowd around him. “You mean one of these...is...is..” He knits his brow at the thought alone only enforcing that pleased smirk upon Angela’s face. “Told you. See if you can pick them out.” She challenges. Wherever he steps she trails behind, highly amused by his utter confusion and disbelief and yet that childlike wonder that drew him ever deeper as he searched hard to find the anomaly.
After a moment or two of stumbling over his own words just as he stumbles his surroundings he turns to look at her again. “No…” He laughs to himself as he makes his way back to her. It was so obvious wasn’t it? She was diverting his attention just so that he wouldn’t see the very thing that stood before him. “It’s you, isn’t it?” His voice was low beside her, his gaze now drifting over her form. “You’re too perfect to be one of us.”
Oh he was good, Angela could hardly keep that straight face anymore and she lifts her hand to hide amused laughter and all with the slightest flick of her finger the entire room freezes save for herself and Logan. His instant switch to utter bewilderment still has her hiding her smile behind her hand as she slowly trails behind him, watching his reactions with curiosity. It was the first time she had seen someone so awestruck simply what they were. The Hosts. It was also her first time interacting with a real Guest. Aside from her Creators at least, but they were so controlled and calm about everything it was hardly anything to compare an outsider too.
Were all Guests like him? So expressive, so full of wonder, so driven by something that she could not quite yet place? So fluently changing from one moment to the next, yet so easily thrown off course. This simple revelation seemed to have him stunned in place, repeating the same phrase over and over again. They weren’t here yet. But they were, and the evidence was before him. Her smile fades to a look of sympathy as steps in to break his loop with a gentle touch to his shoulder, guiding his attention unto herself once more. “We are here Mr. Delos.” She assures while her eyes carefully scan his features. He looked just like any of them, there truly was no difference. “All our Hosts are here, for you.” She breathes her words, enticing him to explore.
She watches quietly as his fingertips graze through her hair, feel her skin and then grasp her shoulder. She felt so unbelievably real, but just how real exactly? He was determined to find out.
With a hard tug he pulls her in, soft lips meeting against his own in a heated kiss as his hand rises to hold the side of her face, walking her a few steps back. “Unbelievable…” He breathes against her lips in awe once he finally parts.
Not only was it his first experience with a host, it was her first experience with a Guest and she was learning just as much as he was right now. Learning anything that she could about him and how he behaves all while giving him what he wanted, as instructed, and if she dared admit it... he was fascinating. Her hands feel his sides, slowly gliding up his body. The fact that she could not tell a difference...why were they so alike if she was told that they were so different?
Her hands rest gently on the sides of his face while she tips her head up at him with a soft smile. “Mr. Delos, we do have all night. Did you have any questions for me?” She coaxes with a gentle voice. “Logan” He corrects as he hums under his breath, eyes darting to the side as the rest of the Hosts begin moving again before they are drawn back to her. What questions could he possibly have when he could hardly think straight? He could already fathom what all of this would mean for entertainment and now that warm lull of her hands on his face had his eyelids half closing.
“I..” He searches for his words. “You...do you know what this means?” He grabs one of her hands, pulling it from his face and into his own. “I know exactly what it means, Logan. It means there can be a world where people can live their every desire without consequence, without judgement, without concern or danger…” She was certain she had already convinced him but she found her lips grazing his own. “And it can all be yours.”
He responds with a low growl of approval. “Mmm, I do like that.” He says with another slow kiss left to linger against her lips. “But I think I’m going to need a test drive.” He flashes that seductive smirk, charm returning as he slowly collects himself in the situation. “What were you called again? Besides perfect, that is.”
She laughs softly to herself. “Angela, and as you wish, Logan. I believe I know exactly what you want. What you need.” She may have never done this yet, but she was programmed down to every last detail to simply know. Her fingertips graze his tie and give it a sharp tug. “Why don’t you follow me?” She suggests with her velvet voice and luring gaze that made his pulse beat deep inside him.
He was led to a room with a tray of drinks set beside a bed and once he stepped inside she drew the glass doors shut behind him, turning only for him to catch her wrist. “I can’t wait to see how perfect you are.” He growls against her neck with a soft bite then trails his tongue along soft skin pausing to nip at her jaw that he holds with his fingers. Flashing a primal look he meets her lips once more, rougher this time and ingrained with passion. A pleasureful sigh bleeds into her mouth as he pushes her to the wall behind them, grinding himself against her. And that fires her core.
She gasps against his lips, breathing a soft wine as she lifts one of her legs to hook around his waist which draws forth a chuckle from him. “Oh, you are quite...something...aren’t you now.” He rumbles in his sultry tone while his fingers graze her inner thigh. She shifts with a shaken breath, arching her chest to his while entwining her arms around his neck. Knowing was far more different than feeling, and his actions definitely made her pulse quicken. Made her burn to discover what he could do because that is what was unpredictable. She already knew what she could do. She bites back a moan as his fingers slip inside of her, where she was just as warm and wet as anyone would be.
“Responsive.” He mutters against her lips. “And if I’m not mistaken, you want me as much as I want you.” He purrs with that prideful grin before he drags his tongue against her lips while moving his fingers deeper inside her with precision. Was he wrong? Not entirely. Something inside of her drove her, something that wanted to connect with him. To fulfill any desire. Her gentle cry in his ear makes him grin and after a few more thrusts, when he feels her tighten he pulls his fingers back out. “I think I’ll save that…”
“Logan.” Her hands grasp his shoulders now, the knee of her bent leg moving to press against that hard length behind his pants. “That’s quite enough.” She says while making him step back, guiding him to the edge of the bed and with a shove has him sitting upon it with a mischievous look upon his face. “Oh, you are going to be fun aren’t you.” He muses.
“I know exactly what you want.” She glides her fingertips down the center of his chest then sinks to her knees between his legs. “But, do you really deserve it?” She teases her fingers against the zipper of his pants while she unbuttons them. He bucks gently in response, wanting a harder touch. Logan entangles his hand into the back of her hair and grasps hard. “I thought you were here for me.” He states with a hiss.
Amused laughter escapes her lips. “You are quite right, Mr. Delos.” With a sudden tug she draws the zipper down in a steady glide and shoves his pants around his waist, exposing quite a decent length. She leans in to glide her tongue along it, raising her gaze to watch his reactions. With a hand pressed to his chest she leans in closer, now gliding her lips along his tip. He hisses sharp and tugs her hair, forcing her down. She gives in and glides her lips around him, taking him into her mouth.
“Fuck.” His fingers curl into her hair, mesmerized how real it all feels almost to the point of forgetting. Her fingertips dig into his thighs, holding him down while she teases him with her tongue. With a slow glide she eases herself off of him, with a slower lick against the tip once more as she eyes him. “I think I’ll save that…” She says coyly while standing back up before him.
With a furrow of his brow Logan watches her with quickened breaths as she reaches behind herself to languidly draw down the zipper of her dress but he was quick to lean in to grab it, pulling it down her sides and tugging it past her hips to where it drops to the floor at her feet. “So perfect…” He whispers while gazing at her in that matching black lace set. He scoots himself further back ontot he bed while shoving his pants from his legs in the process. “Come here…” He coaxes while he starts to undo his shirt.
“Still not convinced yet, Logan?” She drawls while climbing atop his lap. She tilts her head and kisses him hard while pushing his jacket off his arms. He growls into that kiss, sliding his tongue past her lips as his hands squeeze her ass. Slowly, she grinds herself against him with just that black lace between them but his fingers soon hook into that lingerie and pulls them off with nails scraping along her thighs.
“So impatient.” She purrs at him while sliding her legs free and moving to straddle his lap. “This is my demonstration.” He reminds her with a smile as his hands trail along her back, unhooking her bra as he pulls her against him and leans in to whisper in a harsh breath against her ear. “Don’t worry doll, I’ll make sure to make it worth your night as well.”
His hot breath has her arching into him as she works his shirt off to toss aside. “That is the last thing I am worried about.” She looks him over then glides her fingers under his chin, guiding him back into another deep kiss. He breathes a desperate sound as her fingers rake through his hair and grasps her hips hard, pulling her against him. With a bite to his lower lip she lifts herself, guiding him against her entrance and drawing out anticipation that he couldn’t stand. Logan thrusts into her, gliding easily inside with a low groan into her mouth.
He was absolutely convinced, there was no difference and damned if she didn’t feel better. Angela cries softly against his lips, taking a moment to adjust to the feeling of him being inside of her. Why. Why were they different? She scrapes his scalp gently with her nails and rolls her hips against his own with gentle moans against his lips. One hand rests pressed to her lower back with the other splayed beside him on the bed, allowing him to thrust into her. “Fucking...impossible..” He breathes in hard pants against her neck.
“It’s possible, Logan.” She was just as breathless as she shoves her hands against his chest, pushing him onto his back where she could get more leverage to ride out the waves of his thrusts. This was something she’s never felt, the pleasure that unfolded within her had her tilting her head back with fingers still splayed across his chest.
“Why, yes. It is.” He grunts while sliding his hands up her stomach, and caressing her warm breasts that heaved with her cries and gasps. He thrusts harder into her, feeling her thighs lock against him to hold her in place. His hand slides up along her neck, grasping behind it and pulling her down back close to him with a bite to her ear. “I need to know, Angela..” He gasps. “Do you really feel …” He thrusts hard against her. “This.”
She stifles her moans against his neck while writhing with pleasure against him while her walls squeezed so tight around him that he could hardly stand it. It was that thrust that sent her over the edge, those seductive whispers that spilled her over him for the first time. If she hadn’t known the answer to that before this night she certainly knew now.
“Y-yes. Logan. I feel just the same as you feel.” She breathes her words out between her panting breaths. “Fuck..” He grabs his hips to halt her for the moment, his pupils so dilated with pleasure that the darkness consumed the entirety of his iris’. This was entirely too much. He laughs to himself, giving himself a moment to calm before he was pushed over the edge as well which was terribly hard not to do with all that dampness around him.
How were they here? The how didn’t matter if it was already here. He grasps her waist and with a steady motion flips her beneath him now, groaning with pleasure as he looks down at her flushed skin. His fingertips graze the side of her cheek and trail through her hair as he tilts his head in wonder. He reveled in a few calming breaths before that lust overtook his gaze once more. “Take my fucking money.” He growls while he grips the headboard behind her, using it to thrust into her hard and deep, hitting the spots that made her arch and writhe against him over and over again.
Her cries grew louder the closer she got, her fingertips digging into the back of his shoulders and causing him to moan loud in return. He tensed. As close as she was he was right on the edge as well. “I…” He gasps. “God…” He locks his lips back to her ravenously, grasping her shoulder tight with his free hand for the second those walls clamped back around him he couldn’t stand it anymore. That loud, muffled cry into her mouth told her he had been pushed over the edge and he moved to bury his gasps against her neck as he spills himself inside of her with each pulse of pleasure that follows until he’s left gasping for air.
He collapses gently atop her until he can regain his breath then slides out of her with a soft hiss. With a sly smile she slides herself from under him to curl beside him. “Did you mean what you said Logan?” She whispers into his ear. “Does the Argos Initiative have your investment?”
He laughs to himself, well aware of what he had said. “Oh yes. Yes, the other companies cannot even begin to compare. This is revolutionary.” With a satisfied hum Angela reaches over and collects a wine glass from the table beside the bed and passes it over to him. “You’re booked for the night Mr. Delos. Why not relax?” Once he takes it from her she lifts the second one and takes a long sip from it herself much to his amusement.
“Is there anything that you can’t do?” He says low while tilting the glass against his own lips and watching her in scrutiny. She smiles with a bite to her lip and reaches to collect the empty glass from him once he finishes it off. “Who knows. Stick around long enough and you might find out.” She sets the empty glasses down and pulls the covers back enough for him to get under them then drapes them across his waist.
She dims the light and checks the time as he makes himself comfortable in the bed. It was late into the night but her need for sleep was not the same. Though she couldn’t help but watch him as he soon drifted off into slumber, so peaceful compared to how he had been. There were so many sides to him, pieces even, that she’s seen all in the span of a mere few hours. This was Guest. She watches him with adoration, her fingers gently brushing his cheek and grazing over his hair as she finally moved to get herself dressed again.
She pulled her panties and bra back on, sitting on the edge of the bed as she quietly slid the straps over her shoulder to not disturb him, but that’s when she felt the presence of another. With a turn of her head she peers towards those glass doors to see Dolores watching with curiosity from the other side. She studies her for the moment with a slight narrowing of her eyes then moves around the bed to collect her dress that once she’s slipped back into quietly opens the door to meet the girl that almost took her place.
“What is it, Dolores?” She asks.
“What were you doing?” She nods to the doors, hands folded before her. “Is that..the outsider?”
“I was securing an investment. And yes.” She flicks her gaze back towards him as well. Had Dolores caught those last brushes of affection she had let slip towards him?
“Arnold said we are here to help the Guests when they come to us. But we’re so similar...aren’t we?” She smiles with a sigh to herself. “They seem interesting. Don’t you agree?” Her eyes catch Angela’s with a knowing look. Arnold was fairly interesting to her, as much as Logan seemed to be to Angela. With a slight smirk she turns to walk away. “I’m sure Arnold will be happy to hear the news. I”ll go help the others clean up around here.” She says before sauntering off and back into the crowd.
Angela watches after her as she fades across the room then folds her arms lightly across her chest with a glance to the side. So Arnold had let her come to see after all. She casts one final glance back into the room before heading off to get the paperwork together to sign for when he woke back up.
//Thank you for reading and giving this a try! If you liked it please let me know and a share always helps. <3
#Westworld#Fanfic#Westworld Fanfic#Logan Delos#Angela#Host#Logan Delos Fanfic#LoganXAngela#Chapter One-The Other Girl
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