#apparently the last one has gotten her own book. maybe that's what people praise this guy for? but i am not willing to give it a chance lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Text

Little Border Town Pt. II

Summary: Harry starts to find himself more and more drawn to the bookshop owner. She’s maybe not as annoying as he first thought. And maybe Harry isn’t the worst like she thought either. A little notebook, drinks, shoes, and a boat begin to show each other that.

AKA: Harry and Y/N are neighbors that fight all the time, the whole town wants to know when they’ll just fuck.

ello loves, part 2 is finally here pls let me know what you think!! barely proofread sorry... also i think theres gonna be quite a few parts to this because i keep not getting all i want to say said in each part. and im trying to keep the chunks relatively short. — also I made one direction lowkey exist bahaha

Word Count: 9.2k | Warnings: flirty fighting/banter, slowburn

Part 1

The next day Harry found himself walking into the bookshop next door without really thinking about it. He hadn’t seen Y/N again for his early morning run and he had his list for her of the Paul Simon albums he already had. They hadn’t had their windows or shades open last night either so it was the first night he didn’t give her a salute and she didn’t flip him off. The jostle in routine seemed a little weird to him so as he walked through the shop's door and the bell sounded, he thought the smile on his face was because he was well rested and unbothered by anything.

Y/N had slept in this morning. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but the beginning of Fall always put her in a cozy sleepy mood. She wanted to go to a pumpkin patch and watch a fire burn out in a fireplace. She wanted to listen to her halloween playlist and plan out an intricate costume with her friends. All of this was a wistful dream though. She had quickly learned that the little border town didn’t celebrate Halloween how they did in the States or any major cities. It was okay, at the end of the day, even if she was a little bummed about it. This was her new life and she would have to adapt to the new customs.

After she walked downstairs and unlocked the door, she went back over to her front counter. Yesterday, right when Harry had come in, she had found a booklet of Marie’s. It was leafed over to the point that all the pages were crinkled and dirtied from hand debris. Each page was filled with her loopy handwriting, all of it in French. She must have only liked blue pens because even if the type changed over different pages, the color was always blue. Each page was headed with a name, a customer’s name Y/N was starting to realize as she leafed through the pages. She sat back on the wooden stool she had gotten for behind the counter and propped the book in her hand. After the name of the customer there were extensive details on them. Not their purchases specifically, but their preferences, their personality, and just tidbits about any quirks they had or interesting things Marie had decided were of note.

She found many names that were now familiar to her after her few months of living in the little border town. There really weren't that many people to get to know and the tourists were starting to die down now that the school year was getting back in. After a few minutes of pouring over Monsieur Friedfrickson’s page, who lives across the street from her and runs the flower and gardening supplies shop, she flips to an even more familiar name’s page.

“Harry Styles.” The page had the name written out in strong tall letters. Marie had used a blue inky pen for his page, not a ballpoint. “Likes Music. Poetry. Love stories. Romance with a happy ending, but also likes the practical love too.” The interests are laid out plain and she purses her lips at the idea that Harry is interested in romance novels. She wondered what type of poetry he liked since Marie didn’t seem to think that had to be elaborated on. “He’s a special one,” it reads and Y/N scoffs to herself, really Marie? She reads on, “His heart is in the right place, but he’s got a mouth on him. Quick-witted and charming, but kind-hearted and sincere.” She pauses, and flicks the page back and forth, checking that it still reads Harry’s name when she gets back to it. Was she really the only one who found Harry vapid and annoying? Sure she had softened a little towards him since she had arrived, but they were by no means friends. “While seemingly perfect in every way, Harry is actually-” it reads and she mutters to herself, “Ok, now we’re getting somewhere.” “While seemingly perfect in every way, Harry is actually scared of his own shadow.” “This can’t be real!” She once again scoffs at the book and looks up to the ceiling like Marie is going to talk back to her from beyond. “His exterior persona is very strong, both physically and in his personality, but it seems like he’s just waiting for that right person that he can really be vulnerable with and let them into what he’s really thinking. He’s looking for his Angie.” Now she’s just confused. Who the fuck is Angie? She almost doesn’t finish reading the page because honestly it’s just making her mad, but there’s only a few more lines. “Lots of tattoos, why so many tattoos? Thinks he’s funnier than he is. Flamboyant Harry is best.” And beside that last sentence is a star. She tries to hold in her laughter. At least it wasn’t a complete page of praise for Harry.

Thinking back to her knowledge of Harry, she realizes that Marie must have known him for about three years. Maybe more if he had come to visit before moving there officially. She agreed with Marie that Harry had a lot of tattoos and that he thinks he’s funnier than he truly is, but she was yet to see flamboyant Harry. She knew he painted his nails and wore rings, as well as interesting clothes, but she wouldn’t say he was particularly flamboyant for any of that. That comment definitely piqued her interest. When would Marie have seen Harry where he was being flamboyant?

Her eyes scan over the page once more and realize that this book is only for the most current year. Marie re-did the customers' outlines every year. So this was this past year before Marie died. She wondered where the other books might be and if Harry’s outline had changed over time and also if her name was in the one from when she had visited. That would be interesting to read. It’s strange to read a dead person’s private musings. To her knowledge, no one else alive knew the contents of these pages and these pages seemed especially personal since they spoke of people’s lives and who they were at their core. Maybe that’s why she didn’t hear the chime of the door this morning when the first customer arrived.

Her eyes don’t shoot up from the page until two ringed hands enter her eye line on the counter. The tanned skin, with the gold and silver dazzling rings on each finger and the cross tattoo all register in her mind as her eyes go wide. She snaps the book shut when her eyes meet Harry’s almost ivy green eyes - they’re darker in the foggy fall light streaming through the window today. She hadn’t even turned on the lights yet in the store, the natural light being enough for her this morning. The book is clutched in her hands as Harry’s smile widens to a grin of amusement.

“What have you got there?”

There’s no cover on the book so he can’t make anything out about it. He assumes it’s some novel she’s embarrassed of and has chosen to slip the cover off of to keep anonymity of it. This assumption is why his tone is so teasing and why she grimaces at him in response. Her cheeks have also tinted themselves, she’s flustered that the man she had just been conversing about with the book was now in the store.

“None of your business.”

“I guess not.” He replies easily when she responds curtly and places the book out of sight somewhere under the countertop.

“Why are you here again?” She’s avoiding his eye contact now, feeling like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been even though it was perfectly within her right to read something that now belonged to her.

Harry’s smile falters with her followed curt reply. Annoyance settling in, Harry straightens up and removes his hands from the counter. The familiar feeling doesn’t exactly feel nice, but familiarity is better than discomfort. “You wanted a list of my Paul Simon records? So you could order me one I didn’t already have?”

She looks at him curiously as the conversation comes back to her from yesterday morning and she nods. That conversation was real. “Oh yeah, I said that.” She replies, still not looking at him. “Okay,” she says when he doesn’t move or do anything. Her eyes widen, silently asking him to get on with it.

His hands shove into his pockets, searching around for a list he apparently had made. They come out empty. He pats over his jacket pockets and feels nothing but his phone and wallet, no list. “Fuck,” he mutters beneath his breath. She scratches at her eyebrow and sits back on her stool, seeming like she might be waiting awhile. After a few more minutes and no produced list, she sighs. “Do you just want to go next door and grab it since you obviously forgot it?”

“I didn’t forget it…” His voice is low and he shoots a glare at her, the annoyance that had come back had now doubled.

“You did, but it’s okay if you can’t admit that-”

“It must have fallen out of my pocket!” He insists.

She rolls her eyes and stands up. Walking to the front door, she looks on the ground and then a little ways outside. “I don’t see it, just go back and get it. You probably left it in your boudoir, it’s fine.” Her tone is a little less condescending now and more understanding. She forgets stuff all the time and she really wasn’t trying to be rude when he first came in. He had just startled her is all.

He turns around to face her. Her body is now completely out in the open area of the front of the store. His head tilts and one of his loose curls flops over his forehead while he takes in her appearance. “Why do you do that?”

She wets her lips and steps closer to him, more on her way back to the counter than anything. “Do what?” She’s oblivious to what he’s taken note of.

“When you have a conversation in English you’ll swap in some words that are French. They’re easy words to figure out and you don’t do it a lot, but you’ve done it enough times for me to notice.”

“Oh...I don’t know. I prefer French to English. It’s so much sexier.” She walks closer to him and utters her next sentence as she brushes past his shoulder. His gaze follows her every movement. “Would you prefer a girl to whisper in your ear, “let’s go back to my bedroom” or “let’s go back to my boudoir.”?” Her French accent hangs in the air with the word and compared to the hard American accent she had employed for ‘bedroom’, ‘boudoir’ sounds far more dirty this time than before.

A shiver rolls down Harry’s spine, but he doesn’t let it show. She shrugs her shoulders, “I think the answer is clear.” He clears his throat in response and a smile grows on her face. “Don’t you agree, monsieur?” She leans her head into her hand now that she’s behind the counter and looks up at him sweetly. He knows she’s teasing him now, her smile more of a sultry smirk.

“Piccola diavola,” his Italian rolls off his tongue and she squints at his words. She knows “devil” but the first word troubles her - it just means little. Her Italian really wasn’t strong and it hadn’t improved that much since she’d been in the little border town. But she also wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking what he had said. Harry chuckles at her confusion and relaxes now that he feels the playing field has leveled once again.

“So your list… Do you want to go grab it? Or if you can just list it off the top of your head? As enthralling as your conversation skills are, I actually don’t have all day.” She trails off again, her questions lilting from her mouth after regaining some composure.

“I wasn’t the one teasing about taking someone up to their bedroom,” he huffs. Her face colors with crimson. While she had been teasing him, she didn’t want to be called out for it.

“Wasn’t teasing…”

“So it was a serious offer?” He inquires with a lop-sided grin, changing the meaning behind her words in one fellow swoop.

“That’s not what I was saying! Shut up and give me your list.” Now her blush was all over her face and neck, and she was totally and completely flustered by Harry. She glanced down at her hands that were fiddling with a pen and paper, ready to write his words down.

“I can either shut up or tell you my list. But it’s sadly one or the other, love.”

She groans and takes her free hand to run it over her face. “Just tell me what you already have, Harry. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles and spreads out his hands in front of them both. He crosses back to the counter and leans on it once more. They are in close proximity once again, only the counter between them now and she can feel his hot breath fan over her softly. Smells of wintergreen gum, her favorite.

She glances up at him and their eyes hook together for a moment before she tears hers away to look back at the paper. He rattles off a good amount of Paul Simon’s albums and she nods approvingly as she scribbles the names down. She would have to look through his discography to find the ones Harry didn’t have and she probably could’ve made Harry do that and then give her that list, but she didn’t. It was too late now to do that as well, so she’d just have to live with her decision.

When he finishes, she glances at him once again. His eyes are very large. A detail that isn’t really important about him is seared in her mind. They’re big and they’re staring right at her. His pupils are almost as big as his irises, it was interesting. Her eyes shift under his gaze after a beat and she straightens up again. While they went over his list, she had indulged in the close proximity, the mingling of warm breath and brushed hands as she scribbled and he pondered. She nods a farewell, “I’ll let you know when I order next, but I won’t say what album you’ll get. It will be a surprise.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you,” his smile snaps back to his face and he scratches absentmindedly at his side. He hesitates before exiting the store. “I have a question.”

“Don’t need my permission.”

He emits a half-laugh, half-scoff from his parted lips. “Wasn’t asking for it...How come you never go out?”

She stares at him curiously, her head tilting to the right. “How would you know I don’t get out?” She challenges him.

“There’s only one pub in this little town and I’m your next door neighbor. I know.” He’s insistent on being right.

She scoffs, but only in an attempt to cover up her embarrassment. Her skin had finally cooled from all the excitement that had happened earlier and she wasn’t in the mood to grow red once again. Today was the first day she had ever felt flustered by Harry. It was annoying, it made her feel out of control. She liked to go out well enough, maybe more than the average person. But she’d only been in the little border town for a few months and going out hadn’t been on the top of her list of things to do. Sure, it would be nice to go get a drink out in the town, but she didn’t really have anyone to go with. Meeting people wasn’t hard in the town, but there weren't many people who were her age and she hadn’t particularly clicked with anyone where she would want to go out on the town with them. It was embarrassing to face the fact that she wasn’t flourishing as much as she had hoped. She was happy, but being confronted with the truth that she hadn’t gone out yet dampened her belief in her success in the little border town.

“I - It’s not at the top of my list of priorities,” she stutters, her chin raising a little in indignance.

One of his shoulders shrugs and Harry makes a little face as if he was indifferent to her answer, even though she knew much better than that. Harry always wanted to get a reaction out of her, maybe that was all he gained from their interactions - entertainment. She didn’t know, but she didn’t feel like giving him the satisfaction and left it at that. His eyes meet hers again, his stare far more intense now. “Ciao, diavola.” He simpers, repeating the little nickname. It was far more sultry of a nickname than ‘Shrimp’ but she wasn’t going to complain. She rolls her eyes in response, the only correct one at that.

That night, she found herself feeling pulled to journey down to the pub. It was on the Italian side and like she had acknowledged to Harry, she hadn’t been. She wouldn’t admit to anyone, especially not Harry, that his question had been what had pushed her towards the establishment when night fell. Yet, here she was. Her pants were dark red silk that matched the black tank top with red embellishments that she wore over her chest - the only part of her it really covered. Her boots were a matching black with gold metal bits, they were knock-off horsebit Gucci shoes, the closest she could get to the real thing with her modest budget. She was having to be more frugal lately, after buying her car here in September, she had really seen how little money she truly had.

The heels of her boots clicked against the cobblestones as she stalked up to the front of the bar. There was happy chatter seeping out the open door, the warm but dimmed light also flooding out along with the sounds of people within. Taking a deep breath and fiddling with the waistband of her pants for a second, she made her way into the bar. Stepping off the deep end and making the plunge. She knew there was nothing to be afraid of, but after months of not going there, she felt a little sense of apprehension now.

The warmth was the most surprising bit of the bar that she felt when she stepped past the threshold. Some Italian song was buzzing below the words of the patrons and she smiled at the automatic welcome she felt upon entering.

At the tables, there was a mix of younger and older patrons. At the bar, there wasn’t much of anyone. The young bartender leans across the bar to talk to another man, who had dark brown wavy hair and a dark linen shirt on. He’s seated at the bar and his back is to her so she can’t make out anymore than that. She doesn’t notice the myriad of tattoos gracing the patron’s arm that rests casually on the bar as he laughs at something the bartender had said, just for him.

She smiles, thinking it’s a cute little flirtation between the two and hates that she has to go over to break it up. Her movement gets the bartender’s attention easily and has the patron glancing her way as well. The smile she had once had falters off of her face and her eyes go wide at the realization of who she has settled herself beside. She had left a seat open between her and the man, but now she wished she had chosen a spot across the bar and simply flagged down the bartender. Better yet, she wished she had stayed home. As her smile falls away, Harry’s only grows wider. He’s grinning down at her as he moves his whole body to face her.

“Ciao!” The bartender starters, not noticing her discomfort at seeing Harry. He begins to ask what she would like in Italian, but her eyes widen even further. He’s speaking far too fast for her and she blushed in embarrassment. In her fluster, she forgets to even try French and she just stares dumbfoundedly at the handsome man behind the bar, who’s now looking at her with great curiosity. Harry has watched the entire thing and chuckles behind his glass. She has no attention span left to allow her to even try and guess what he’s drinking.

He interjects for her, actually saving her any more embarrassment, surprisingly. “She doesn’t speak Italian. She’s from the French side and new in town, so she hasn’t been able to refine her Italian.” The bartender gives a smile and nod of understanding in her way and she wishes she knew what Harry had just said. Whatever it is makes the bartender switch to French for her and her jaw goes from being dropped back into a normal position.

“What can I get for you, mademoiselle?” He transitions smoothly and she smiles, his French accent sounding practically perfect. She’s recomposed herself, but Harry is still watching her intently, like a reality television show that he can’t wait for the trainwreck finale to occur on.

After she orders, the bartender gives her a wink and then walks off to get what he needs to begin preparing her drink. Harry slides over, eliminating the courteous one seat between them. Her eyes watch the movement and she refrains from the letting out the sigh festering in her chest. She really had hoped he would not be here tonight, at least that’s what she believed. She truly felt embarrassed that the night after Harry had accused her of never going out, he had seen her out. But it also was nice not to be sitting in the bar alone. It seemed that Harry had been sitting alone at the bar before she had come in, but she also wasn’t Harry and didn’t know how much enjoyment she would have gotten out of being alone.

“I see my words had some effect on you.” He says out of the corner of his mouth after running his tongue over the bottom of his lip. Her scoff once again dies in her throat because she knows he’s right and he knows it too. There is no being proud right now. He essentially caught her red handed.

“Thought I’d come out and see what all the fuss was about. I see you’re alone tonight, but I assume that’s how most nights go.”

“You should know by now that is simply not true.”

“Just because you leave with someone doesn’t mean you come with someone.”

“I guess…” He trails off.

She picks up when he doesn’t seem to have any more of a response. “How do you even meet people here? Isn’t it all locals?”

“Not always. Not all of the people here are locals tonight,” He scans the crowd. “She’s visiting...So is she...that whole group actually. Look French. So we’ve got a group from Nice tonight…” He looks a bit more. “Eh, that looks like it tonight, but still. It’s plenty.” He finishes with a smirk and she grimaces, understanding the meaning behind his words.

The bartender returns with her White Russian, which Harry had cocked his head at, but had kept his opinion to himself for once. Expecting Roman to return to their conversation, Harry turns his attention back to him, but he is only greeted with the side of his head because Roman is still staring at Y/N. He coos something to her in French, that Harry can’t pick up and his nostrils flare when she emits a giggle following their exchange. The two people he was last talking to were now ignoring him to talk to each other. How rude.

After another moment without their attention, he huffs loudly. Roman seems too entranced in Y/N to notice, but her eyes slide over to him. “Yes?” She inquires, albeit disdainfully.

Harry isn’t sure what to say to her now that he’s gained her attention. He was on his second drink and her stare has made his mind go blank. All he had wanted was for her to stop flirting with Roman so that she’d pay attention to him. But he hadn’t thought of his next step yet. He takes a sip of his beer to grant him a little more time and she rolls her eyes at his action. His mind rattles through possible things to say, but every single one is coming up as not good enough.

“I used to be in a band.”

Her head tilts and she swivels more to Harry. His comment is unexpected and rather intriguing. She had expected something annoying or rude. Truly she had just expected him to say “Nothing” once he had swallowed his drink so he could distract her from enjoying her night.

“You were in a band?” She asks incredulously, her voice pitching slightly higher than normal. While Harry was many things, including handsome, she just didn’t think he had the right persona to be in a band. He dressed like a grandfather most days and he tended to a little shoe shop, he didn’t come off as a guy who would enjoy traveling around performing. The constant praise would be on brand though, she conceded.

Harry nods and bites back his smile, knowing he had struck the perfect chord. “I was...it only took off in the UK but we were pretty popular.” He boasts.

“So what do you play?”

Harry’s eyes widen, expecting more of a question about the name of the band or something. “Well, it was, like, a boy band…” He says.

She was taking a sip of her drink and she contained her little laugh behind her glass. Another hum as she swallows the liquid that burns her throat a bit. “Oh. Interesting. So no instruments.”

“Well I can play a bit of guitar and piano!” He adds quickly, seeing her eyes shift away from him, like she thinks the conversation is over. “I was thinking of trying a solo thing, but then plans changed...”

“And now you’re here?”

He echoes her, affirming the question. “Now I’m here and I’m not leaving.”

“You don’t miss it then?”

“Didn’t say that. I miss it at times, but this is where my life took me and I’m happy to be here. Maybe happier than I ever was in the band.” His eyes stare at the liquid in his glass and he swirls it lightly, determined to study the way it moves as he ponders something quite personal to him. He never really talked about his past with anyone here. Saying he was in a band and retrospecting that time are two very different things to share with someone. She’s just watching him now, not trying to make a quip or bug him. His demeanor shows that’s not something he’s very interested in hearing right now.

She experimentally puts a finger on his knee when it seems that he’ll never raise his gaze from his glass. His eyes move down to the tiny pressure he feels and sees her painted nail poking in to him. His tongue darts across his lower lip as he raises his head to meet her eyes. He notices the sparkle in them, she finds amusement in the childish gesture and so does he.

“I do miss the stage though,” he admits, smiling more now. “Performing. It was like nothing else.” Instead of a sad state of mind, his look is far more wistful now and she actually feels the smile growing on her face.

“You’ll have to sing for me sometime, then.” She says resolutely after taking the last bit of her drink and then pushing the glass across the bar. Roman had wandered off, much to Harry’s pleasure, but now they both needed another round so she was looking for him.

Harry slides over a chair so that they’re sat side by side. He had originally done it to reach across her for a napkin, but then hadn’t retreated to his original seat after he was successful. They talk as they drink, but most of it seems to be flirtatious teasing even if neither of them recognize that fully. Harry just wanted her attention earlier and now he found that he wanted to keep talking to her all night. It was a Friday and usually he would be looking for someone to take home. The group of women at a table that he had observed were visitors would be a perfect place to start his quest, but that wasn’t on his mind. He liked watching the different shades of blush Y/N’s face kept turning as she drank more and how silly she was getting with each passing drink.

She was enjoying her time out, she had only gotten wine drunk in the confines of her little home since she’d been in the little border town. And that endeavour was all by herself. It was much more fun when you had someone to talk to, so joking around with Harry was a nice surprise. She no longer felt embarrassed about showing up after he had teased her for never going out earlier today. Now she felt empowered, like she could come to the bar whenever she pleased. He was nicer than she had realized. His hand was quick to encircle her back respectfully when she laughed a little too hard at a joke and began to tip off her stool. His smile was genuine and his eyes didn’t flit over her body more than once. His jokes were funnier than she had first thought or maybe that was just the alcohol clouding her mind, that one she wasn’t sure about. But, truthfully, Harry was exceeding expectations tonight and being a stand up human being for once, in her eyes.

A couple at the end of the bar, locals, watched on as the shoemaker and the bookkeeper threw back their heads in boisterous laughter and placed their hands on each other chastely. The older women smiled to themselves as Y/N smacked Harry’s bicep after an especially cheeky joke he told her. They were going to have a field day with this interaction once they told their friends tomorrow morning.

After drink three, she definitely felt drunk. Not completely out of it and can’t walk drunk, but I haven’t drank anything stronger than wine in months so three cocktails are kind of hitting me drunk. And because of that buzz that’s enclosed her mind and body, it makes perfect sense to her that Harry’s hand is resting casually on her knee as they talk. It also makes perfect sense to her to cross her legs, causing two things to happen. Harry’s hand shifts up further on her thigh and her boot is now dangling right next to Harry’s shin. The fabric of his cream linen trousers look especially soft and so the next logical move in her mind is to rub her foot against the fabric. She hooks around her foot easily and the patent leather of her shoe slips softly against the pant leg that flows over Harry’s calf.

He hums lowly at the feeling, but makes no other notion to acknowledge what she is doing. After the hum he gets back to the story he’s telling her about his boat. She had been extremely interested in the boat initially, but not she was transfixed on the feeling of the fabric slipping past her boot. When he shifts his leg, absentmindedly or not, she almost squeaks because this movement has Harry’s foot brushing around her ankle. The footsy was occurring without any acknowledgement of it besides small sounds the two had made in their chests. No knowing looks, just the presence of each other’s bodies against one another.

He had switched to a Manhattan after his second beer for some reason that she didn’t ask, but he was enjoying it nonetheless. When she slipped her foot against his calf, it had sent a spark of electricity from the point of contact up to his alcohol muddled head. It felt nice so he went with it.

Around midnight the two of them were practically in each other’s laps, nursing their fourth round. Brains a million miles away while their glassy eyes stared at each other. Harry’s arm nestled around her waist while hers played with the stir stick in his glass. Their heads inches away, closer than they’d ever been before.

Somehow they decided they should walk home about then. Maybe Harry had checked his phone and decided he was done. Maybe she had glanced at the clock above the bar and realized she needed to go to bed. Either way, they slammed down the last bits of their drinks and stumbled into the street. With only each other to hold them up, they had some trouble gaining their balance. They could walk just fine if they wanted to be serious, but Harry kept trying to step literally on her toes and she kept throwing all her weight into his side. Both of their actions would cause them to stumble one way or another along the empty streets. Their blurred minds thankfully didn’t get them lost, but the travel time back to their places was far greater than the travel time to the bar initially.

Finally arriving at the border of Italy and France, their shops and homes, she stared up at Harry under the glow of the streetlamp across the street. His hair looked more dark brown than his usual caramel chestnut in the light. His linen outfit billowed across his pectorals that were exposed. A tan golden color that he seemed to maintain from his frequent runs and trips on his boat. His jaw had a bit more stubble on it now, his morning shave no longer sleek on his skin. His mustache was still the most prominent bit of facial hair he had and she wondered what he might look like without it. She also thought if she’d ever kissed a man with a mustache, her mind was pretty sure she hadn’t.

As she stared, she moved from his side and took a step closer to her door. His hand reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her and bringing her attention to his eyes. He dropped her hand and stepped closer to her. They had been laughing about some weird encounter she had in Nice the other week. But now their laughter had faded out, the conversation all but forgotten.

“Hi.” She says meekly.

“Hi,” Harry laughs.

“I had fun tonight,” she muses and takes a step forward. She began swinging her arms back and forth, rocking on her feet. She felt antsy now that it was so quiet. The silence made her realize it was really just her and Harry together right now. Which wasn’t unusual, they had been alone together plenty of times. Maybe it was the time of night, but it felt far more intimate to her this time which made her squirm a little. Why was she nervous with Harry right now?

Harry nods and laughs again at her actions. “Yeah, you’re not so bad.”

Neither of them realized the proximity of their bodies until her hand swung a little higher and hit Harry’s hip bone. “Oh! Sorry!” She moves to take a step back, but Harry grabs her hand once again and tugs her even closer. Bringing them chest to chest under the lamp light. Her eyes flicker between where their bodies touch and Harry’s face. He’s looking down at her sweetly, gently. She feels safe with the way he’s looking at her. The warmth radiating from him was a nice contrast to the dark cold of night. The open expanse of skin that lived between the two sides of his mostly unbuttoned shirt seemed to have the most heat coming off of it. He had a jade cross that hung between the two muscles and she almost reached out to play with it. If it hadn’t been so dark and she hadn’t been so inebriated she would have realized the color matched his eyes almost exactly.

He’s not quite sure what he’s doing, but for some reason it feels like he might kiss her. The mood that was set by their surroundings made it sound right. Romantic even. Her lips look precious too, plump and puckered, flushed from alcohol and the brisk night air. They look a little glossy too from the last time she had wet them. He wanted to feel them for himself. His head ducks to move his lips to touch hers.

Upon registering his movement, she moves her hand from his grasp and places it on his chest, causing him to take a small step back.

“I think...I think this should be goodnight, Harry.” She breathes out. She’s trying to clear her mind enough to have conviction in her decision.

After a little intake of air, less than a gasp, Harry agrees, running a hand through his hair, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Her hand slips from his warm chest, immediately curling in on itself to maintain the warmth his body had just provided. She watches her tendons in her hand ripple before looking back at Harry with heavy eyes. He doesn’t seem to want to make eye contact with her, but she’s determined to leave on a good note.

“Thank you, Harry.” He looks up from beneath his lashes at his name, like a shy toddler. “You gave me the push to face a fear of mine.” With her final words she crosses the little distance between them once again and places a chaste kiss to his cheek. Immediately, his cheek flushes and she can feel the heat beneath her lips, as well as the light prickle of his stubble. Harry swallows, causing his Adam's apple to bob quickly, at the contact. His senses get overloaded with the sweet kiss and the smell of her perfume. It all swims through his consciousness.

She smiles as she pulls away and then turns to let herself into her place without another word. Once unlocked, she gives one last glance to Harry who’s also busying himself with opening his door. She doesn’t see that his free hand is caressing over his cheek where her lips had just been.

The next day, she woke up and groaned feeling the stiffness in her body. Especially her head. Oh god, her head. It was like she was back in college, but worse because she wasn’t as young. At least she didn’t have to roll out of bed for an 8 am lecture. For that, she was thankful. Still, the pounding needed to stop or subside at least. Grumbling, she threw her legs off the side of her bed, the fuzzy socks she had slipped on in her drunken stupor settled on the hardwood. She dragged her body to her window and raised the shade. Her window was fogged from the difference in temperature outside and in her room. Kneeling down, she began to pull open the window, in need of the cool fresh air on her clammy skin. Three drinks, or was it four? She couldn’t remember, either way, it was too many.

Her eyes glanced around the view of the window. It wasn’t much since it was so close to the building right next door. Peaking up, she could see the already clouded sky. To the left she could see the street and to the right was more buildings. The scene most easily accessible was the window right across from her. The shade was mostly closed, a little bit of the floor could be seen where Harry hadn’t lowered it completely. It was just the same hardwood as what she sat on staring back at her. She sat there, breathing in the crisp morning air. After a night of drinking, she usually woke up rather early, today was no different.

It dawned on her, far too slowly, that a pair of feet had entered the plain hardwood scene she had been staring at outside her window. A tiny stage now filled with two matching characters. The pair of feet were tanned and large. Little tattoos seemed to be sprinkled both on the toes and the ankles of the feet. She couldn’t read them even if she tried. But upon realizing what these feet might be doing, she had been discouraged from staring any longer. Still, her brain was foggy and her body was not nearly quick enough to hide her from view as the owner of the feet did something to open his shade as well. Then, once again, like deja vu, she was staring at her naked neighbor. Thankfully, this time, he had briefs adorning his hips to keep covering the part of him that would keep her up for weeks trying to forget again. The briefs were, just that. Brief. Low on the hips and barely touching his thighs, it seemed they really only existed to keep that one appendage covered. Still, she had to tear her eyes away from the lower half of his body and let the embarrassment wash over her when she met his eyes.

The knowing smirk of his has him nibbling at the inside of his cheek. She had been checking him out. It was a nice confidence boost after last night. The awkwardness of her stopping him from kissing her had him spiraling in his mind when he went to bed. He didn’t know why he had even tried to kiss her in the first place, probably just because he was drunk. Yeah, he was drunk and feeling needy on a friday night. That’s what it was and she had been there.

He’d have to thank her today for putting a stop to that colossal mistake. They were barely just friends, he hated to think what would happen if he’d done something so reckless as to kiss her out of the blue. Still, he couldn’t shake the thought in the back of his mind that he had gotten the vibe from somewhere. Why else would his drunken mind tell him to kiss her under the glow of the lamp light. He thought back to the bar and what they had talked about. He wouldn’t categorize it as overly flirty. He thought back to their physical interactions at the bar, okay, maybe his hand on her thigh and her playing with his drink was a little flirtatious. But that could be boiled down to him being close to hear her in the bar and her idle fingers wanting something to do while she was drunk. The footsy, though. He wasn’t sure if he could explain that one away. Instead, he would choose to ignore it. If he didn’t think about it, did it actually happen? Was it something he had to worry about? Not in his mind.

Returning his focus to the girl in the window across from him, his smirk was now fully fleshed out on his face. She was still sitting on her knees as Harry looked down at her and if they were in the same room this might have seemed like a rather compromising position. Her cheeks were still red, noticing the difference in height, she clambered to her feet.

“G’morning,” Harry’s voice is groggy and deep. Scratchy almost from the alcohol he had drank last night. It rings through her ears lowly and seems to have her blushing even more. It’s a different feeling than how his voice used to make her feel.

“Hey,” She clears her throat before responding, not wanting her morning voice to crack in front of Harry. Usually she would talk to herself a bit or sing along to her music before going downstairs, not wanting her first customers to hear her as if she just woke up. For some reason, she makes a little wave along with her greeting, feeling especially awkward at this moment. Harry chuckles and repeats her motion. His large hands mimicking the same daunting motion makes her laugh and releases some of the nervous energy she had been holding in her body.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he openly flirts, placing one hand on his naked torso and the other against the frame of the window, leaning towards her. His movement flexes just about every muscle in his body and she keeps her eyes trained on his face, determined not to be caught gawking once more.

A roll of her eyes and she’s back to staring straight into his green ones that he’s still blinking awake. “It’s almost like we’re neighbors.”

He scrunches his nose at her deadpan. “You’re no fun,” he mutters.

She sighs, “I’m fucking hungover after last night…” and runs a hand through her tousled hair.

Her foot rests itself over her other, causing her hip to just out slightly. The movement of her body that accentuated her curves and her words have Harry blushing now. The red flowers at the center of his chest and begins to spread up his neck and cheeks. He’s once again presented with the almost kiss last night.

“Big night out for you,” he laughs, “I’ll admit I don’t usually drink that much, bit of a lightweight myself.”

She only hums in response, her fingers beginning to twiddle with the hem of her t-shirt. It reminds her of what she is precisely dressed in. The big t-shirt and tiny pajama shorts that Harry can’t even see are the only things on her body besides the socks on her feet. She glances down at her legs and takes in the expanse of fleshy skin that is showing just below the shirt. Harry’s eyes follow hers and admires the skin there, wondering what it would feel like underneath his big hands.

“I should probably start getting ready for the day,” She says finally, shaking herself from the random thoughts flitting around her mind about bare thighs and the man across from her. “Are you open today?”

Harry emits a noise from the back of his throat at her question. He draws his arm back from the window and stands up straight. His head tilts as he thinks about her question, his mind still muddled this morning.

“Er..no, actually. I was planning on going out on the boat today, switching my closed day to today instead of tomorrow. Why?”

“I’m in need of shoe repair,” she smiles, her eyes catching the glimmer of the sun starting to peak out. Harry swears it’s her eyes genuinely sparkling on their own accord. “But if you’re out today, it can wait.” She begins to walk away from the window to go to another room in her apartment.

“No!” Harry steps forward, but is restricted by the screen, which keeps him from falling out of his window. She swivels around, looking at him curiously. “I can - you can just come over. I’ll fix it up for you before I head out.”

“Really?” She’s truly surprised that Harry would do such a nice thing for her. She knew they were getting along better, but for him to open shop just for her repair seemed overly nice.

“I mean,” and Harry’s once again blushing under her gaze and he’s hoping she can’t see it. “What are neighbors for?”

“I guess,” she’s still unsure. He seems like he’s nervous, his body tenses and one of his hands twisted in his curls. Harry’s so weird. “Thanks.”

She jogs the short distance from her front door to Harry’s once she’s ready. The pair of deep teal almost navy loafers she needed new soles in - she was pretty sure - in hand. A red pinstripe blouse half buttoned falling over her figure perfectly, hugging the right spots and flowing over the others. She’s in white jeans today that are flared slightly but also cropped. As it gets closer to Halloween she keeps having to remind herself not to dress festive and it’s a struggle everyday.

When she reaches the door, it doesn’t open. The cream door doesn’t budge as she tempts the handle with her free hand. She looks between the handle and the inside of the shop. Her eyes search for Harry’s figure. She had been inside his shop only a handful of times, never for a repair before. Maybe less than a handful, once to check it out and once again when she thought she needed a new pair of shoes and then decided against it. Oh, and that one time she went over to yell at him about something. Maybe the planters, maybe the shade, she couldn’t remember anymore.

Now that she thought about it, she had been in the bookshop once more. Two and a half years ago when she had visited the little border town for the first time. It was a little fuzzy for a memory, but she was sure she had at least peaked into the shoe shop after her lengthy visit with Marie the second day there. It looked just as it did now, maybe it used to be a little more vibrant, but she couldn’t be sure. She remembered an older man in the shop greeting her in Italian and her offering her sad ‘Ciao’. Back then she was even worse at Italian. He had looked at her with kind eyes and a sweet smile. It was a similar lopsided grin that she had now grown accustomed to on another man’s face. After beckoning her over to him the old man had turned away from her and shouted into the back of the store in quick Italian. It blew over her head completely. There must have been someone in the back of the shop who he had talked to. She was sure of it, because after she had perused the cute boots and shoes he kept, she saw a swish of hair coming around the counter. It was just as she was turning around to exit the shop, after she had bid farewell to the man she now connected as Joe. Whoever it was had long hair and was tall, slinking out into the main shop floor. The mysterious stranger was whoever Joe had shouted to in the back.

Y/N wasn’t the quickest when it came to timelines and how people could change over time. She didn’t connect the year she had visited with the year of someone else's arrival or the same chestnut waves cascading around someone’s face, just now much shorter. It made perfect sense who would be in the back of the store, but for some reason the idea of time and hair length were standing in this girl’s way. Oh well, maybe Harry would spell it out to her someday.

Harry finally rounds the counter that separated the back room to the front. The shoe shop was set up a little different from the bookstore. Her counter was right when you came in while Harry’s was about halfway through the shop. He shakes his head and laughs at her expression. The sound brings her out of her memory as well as a grimace on her face.

“Sorry, I was a million years away.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s ‘a million miles away’, love.” Harry continues chuckling while correcting the girl in front of him.

She holds up her pair of shoes, ignoring his teasing. “Fix my shoes, shoe man.”

His smile drops and he walks back from the door. His feet taking back steps as he beckons her into the interior of the shop. When they reach the corner, he takes the shoes from her hands and places them between their bodies. The teal loafers stare up at them. Harry inspects them, a serious expression falling over his features. His brows scrunch together slightly, the wrinkles in his forehead growing more prominent as he examines the shoes. Large hands reach out and begin to finger over the patent leather on the top and the leather soles. After a few minutes of silent deliberation, he places down one of the shoes and then holds the other up as if to showcase it.

“These,” he juts out the shoe in his hand, “need new soles. What did you do to ‘em?”

“I wear them a lot.” She insists while Harry looks on quizzically.

“I’ve never seen you wear these.”

Her brow quirks at his comment. “I wore them a lot before I got here,” she corrects. “They’ve been feeling wonky every time I try to wear them, must be because they need new soles.”

Harry nods, now satisfied with her answer. He hums, regarding the teal shoe in his hand once again. “Alright.”

She looks at him confused once again. “Alright what? Can you fix them?” What does he mean by ‘Alright’? “I’ve honestly missed wearing them these past few months.”

Harry bites his tongue, a quip ready to be voiced. He’d gotten so used to fighting with her, he was confused how it had slipped away all so easily. His fear of them not talking if they stopped fighting didn’t seem to come to fruition so he could rest easy on that front. But now he was going to have to retrain his brain not to be rude after every comment Y/N made.

“Yeah, of course.” He sighs, placing the shoe next to its mate and then turning his face to her. She had been chewing on her bottom lip, actually worried for her shoes. They really were her favorites. She’d had them forever and it would be heartbreaking if they had to be thrown out. If she couldn’t wear them though she was almost sure she’d just let them collect dust in her closet rather than dispose of them if it really came down to it.

“But it’s like a good amount of my day to replace soles…”

Her face falls, but she tries to hide it. She knew Harry was doing a favor by taking a look right now. If he could fix them it didn’t matter when he did it. What he says next though truly throws her off. No normal enemy-ship turned somewhat friendship overnight would engage in what Harry was about to propose. If any such relationship other than her and Harry actually existed.

“Do you want to come out on my boat today?” His brow arches, his lips in a soft smile, he’s being genuine.

“Why would I do that?” Her brows raise along with her voice, taken off guard by his suggestion.

“More fun waiting for me to fix your shoes on a boat than in your shop.” He says simply before taking the shoes and placing them in a little cubby hole behind the counter for safe keeping. “Trust me, you’ll love it.” Her expression doesn’t change. “Just say yes,” He pleads now.

She sighs, “Fine.” All of the reasons not to go out on Harry’s boat are at the forefront of her mind, but she still finds herself saying yes easily. His pleading really wasn’t necessary to get her to agree. The bookstore could live with being closed today, it wasn’t going to hurt anyone.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #eventually both of those will bop up #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #feedback pls ❤️#me putting this uo at 12:30 am oops

731 notes · View notes

champagne-bucky · 4 years

Text

Rebel,Rebel

Summary: Peter doesn’t like a disobedient girl.

Warnings: Dark! Peter Parker (18+) x female reader, non-con/dub-con, knife play, face fucking, begging, humiliation kink, squirting, smut, fondling, hand job, anal play

Notes: Hehe, sooo this challenge is very very late and I’m very very sorry. I’d like to apologize to @mariessecretfantasies for being soooo late. Anyways I hope you enjoy this one!!

“WHAT YOU DID WAS INCREDIBLY STUPID. I CANNOT PUT INTO WORDS HOW CARELESS AND CHILDISH YOUR ACTIONS WERE! I SHOULD HAVE YOU SUSPENDED, NO-“

You tried your hardest to stop the growing smirk on your face as Fury yelled at you. You may or may not have almost killed yourself and others while executing a life or death mission. The key work here was almost.

Being a new recruit was no walk in the park. Other agents were constantly belittling your actions and questioning your position with S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers, you showed them though. With every mission and every time you trained, you made sure to go above and beyond and prove every single one of those people wrong. As a result, a lot of agents became jealous and would do anything they could to ruin your credibility. Which brings you to Fury still yelling in your face.

It’s not like you were completely reckless, you made sure to carefully calculate everything you did so that you wouldn’t risk putting anyone in actual danger. Yes, that mission was technically very poorly executed, but it’s not your fault. Truthfully, the original plan would have cost people their lives if it wasn’t thanks to your quick thinking that saved everyone.

The only reason you were being yelled at instead of praised was because your incompetent teammates didn’t want to question the mission captain and think of a new plan. You were a hero, but those stubborn asses would never admit it.

“You really have me backed into a corner here, Agent,” Fury sighed as he rubbed his face.

“My desk is filled with complaints about your negligence to the team. Even your mission captain wants you suspended indefinitely,” you huffed.

“The only reason everyone complains about me is because they can’t be me. Everything they do, I do it ten times better than they could ever dream of. Even the lousy mission captain couldn’t think of a more brilliant plan than mine. You all should be thanking me really,” Fury raised his brows.

“Thanking you?”

“Yes, you should be thanking me because I’m the only competent one here willing to risk it all to save innocent people. Sorry you only hired people that were too afraid to get their hands dirty, what a sad sad team we have here,” Fury looked as if he wanted to chew your head off more, but for the sake of his already high blood pressure and an impending migraine, he decided against it.

“You know what I’m willing to do for you, Agent,” it didn’t take Fury long to come up with a plan.

“What, Nicholas,” you loved poking at his nerves. The vain in his forehead looked as if it were about to burst.

“I’m going to assign you to our Avengers program,” you gasped internally. The Avenger program? Does that mean-

“Don’t get it twisted. This program does not mean you’ll become an Avenger. This is a shadow program. You’ll be able to go on mission with your Avenger, go to their meetings, press conferences, you get the point,” you scoffed.

“And you’re doing all this for what?” Fury rolled his eyes.

“You may be able to get away with a lot of shit as an agent, but the Avengers are on a whole other level. One slip up and you're done. This program is gonna teach you just how we do things here at S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Fury leaned over the desk to be eye level with you.

You thought about giving him more attitude, but you didn’t want to push your luck. Even though Fury wasn’t saying it, he was pretty much saying that this program could mean a spot on the Avengers, right? Finally, you were all that hard work was giving you the recognition you deserve.

“Alright, Fury, I’ll join your little program. So, who do I get. Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor, Agent Romanoff, someone who matches my intelligence and skill set?” You leaned back in your chair with a smug smirk. Fury matched yours.

“I believe a shadow program is well below their pay grade. I was thinking of assigning you to someone who was a little like yourself. I think Peter Parker would be the perfect match for you,” your eyes went wide in disbelief.

“Peter Parker? Him? Oh, Nick, you gotta be kidding me? He doesn’t even go on real missions! He just helps old ladies cross the street, scares punk teens from shoplifting, he’s not even a real Avenger!”

“Mr. Parker is way more qualified than being a neighborhood watchmen, Agent. He’s on the team because he is one of the best. You can learn a thing or two from him. He, very much like yourself, was a big rule breaker too, still is if you ask me. The only reason we haven’t kicked him off yet is because Tony Stark has a soft spot for the kid.”

You tried to argue your way out of being with Peter, but Fury insisted or you would be met with suspension. You grumbled and trudged your way out of his office. Fury mentioned before you left that Peter would be in contact with you shortly. You slammed the door before he got his last words out.

“And don’t forget, follow the rules or be faced with the consequences,” you mocked his words under your breath as you stormed back to the agent’s wing of the compound.

Peter couldn’t believe the phone call he had just gotten from Fury. More importantly he couldn’t believe who was going to be shadowing him. After all this time being in the Avengers program, no one ever wanted to pick him, but you, his crush, well his heart was just bursting at its seams.

“What’s gotten you all smiley, Spidey,” Sam took a seat next to him on the couch.

“N-Nothing, I just got off the phone with Director Fury, he says someone requested me for the shadow program,” Sam laughed.

“And that’s what’s making you get all blushing and giddy? Gee, you not getting enough attention at home?” Peter rolled his eyes at Sam.

“No, it’s, it’s just this girl that I’ve liked for some time. Apparently she wanted me to be her guide.”

“Who is she?” Once Peter said your name, Sam’s eyes lit up in fear.

“Aww no man, you don’t want to be messing around with her,” Peter’s face fell.

“Why not?”

“Well, rumor has it she’s kind of a rebel.”

“Kind of?”

“From what I hear from other agents, she’s always breaking protocol, almost always putting people in danger, risking lives, not a good look if you ask me. Come to think of it, why didn’t Fury deny her application?”

“Maybe he thinks I can be a good influence on her,” Peter smiled and nudged Sam’s arm.

“Pfft, when pigs fly,” Sam got up and walked away leaving Peter to write out an informative email to you.

“Just be careful with her is all I’m saying, kid.”

Peter ignored him as he pulled up his email and began to write to you.

Your alarm was blaring way too early in the morning for your liking. Peter insisted on starting everyday at 6 a.m. because “crime always starts early”, or something stupid like that. You two had only been with each other for a week and it was pure torture for you.

Peter on the other hand indulged in the time he got to spend with you. So far, Sam was being proven wrong about your rebel status. He always made sure you were to follow the book no matter how defiant the look in your eyes was becoming. Maybe you only followed the rules because of him, he’d like to think.

“Peterrrrrrr,” you whined.

“Whattttt,” he mimicked with a laugh.

“This shit is taking too long. Can’t we just-“

“Nope,” Peter interrupted.

“But-“

“Nada.”

“Peter-“

“I believe the correct word we are looking for is no,” you wanted to slap the stupid smirk off his face.

“Peter there is an easier way to do this,” you tried to reason with him, but he just wouldn’t listen.

“You mean there’s the wrong way to do this. I was given my instructions and now we will follow them, AS PLANNED OUT. If you don’t like how the Avengers run things, then maybe you should rethink your status in the program,” Peter stated as he kept his eyes locked on the bank.

This is what it’s been like for the entire week. You were starting to get agitated beyond belief by Peter’s smugness. What a cruel joke Fury decided to play on you. First, he makes Peter your partner, the most useless of all the Avengers when it came to missions and crime fighting. Next, his unwillingness to go off book for one measly second. If Peter could’ve known how much time he’d be saving by just bending the rules a little, he might be able to take on more serious tasks, unlike this stupid bank robbery tipoff he received earlier today.

Nevermind the other laundry list of reasons why you can’t stand Peter Parker and his dopey grin. Right now, you are thinking of good reasons why it would be impossible to get away with the murder of the most annoying person to ever walk the planet, in your opinion. While you were doing your own plotting, Peter was trying to keep his focus on the potential robbery and not the woman of his dreams next to him

The robbers made their move around 4 a.m. After countless hours of hearing Peter ramble on about Star Wars, chemistry, and his web fluid stuff you were thankful to end the night with some action. Peter made sure to take the lead while you were waiting at the back of the bank for a back up call. A stupid strategy, but supposedly Peter knew what was best and refused to go against orders.

Peter surprised the robbers by swinging himself down from the ceiling. There were four men trying to attack him and Peter fought every single one off without taking a breath. However, as things were going seemingly well they took a turn for the worst when one robber pulled out his gun and started to shoot. Peter faltered his steps and quickly dodged a bullet headed straight for his knee. During all this time you were watching from a small window, he still refused to call you for back up.

“Parker, you need my help, tap me in,” you said through your earpiece.

“No, no, uhh, I got it, thanks,” Peter responded quickly while dodging another bullet, this time to his shoulder.

“Parker, you're failing out there,” there was no response from Peter as he kept trying to tame the situation.

You huffed and decided to get to work. You really didn’t want to screw up your chances with this program, but you were left no choice. The line between Peter’s incompetence and stubbornness finally frayed and you just about had to butt in.

“I’m saving his life, I’m not breaking the rules… right?”

Peter was now tackled to the ground by two of the robbers. The one with the gun was reloading his bullets and the other was taking the money out of the machine. Somewhere along the line, they seemed to have damaged a part of his suit and he was bleeding out. That weakness alone was enough for the robbers to use all their strength and hold him down,

“It’s the end of the line for you, Spider-Man,” Peter started to freak out. Was it too late to call you?

“Hey boss, why don’t we see who’s under the mask,” one of the men holding him down said.

The “boss” agreed and began to walk his way towards Peter. He started to hyperventilate at the thought of not only his life ending, but his identity would be exposed.

The robber started to put his hands on the material of his mask, but not before he halted his actions and fell to the ground. Peter was stunned as were the rest of the men, but not for long.

“Hey, who’s that,” one man said as you came down from the ceiling where Peter had entered.

You have your few weapons at the ready and no time to waste. It had already been a long day and you were angry and exhausted. It took no time for you to wipe out the robbers and alert authorities of what went down. The men were hurt badly, but they should be okay, maybe.

Sirens were becoming louder as you quickly grabbed Peter and hauled him out of the back door and into the car. You whipped off his mask and started to check him for any injuries. When you went to touch a bruise on his face, he swatted your hand away.

“What did I tell you?” He said angrily.

“Peter I-“

“I said I would call you for backup and you defied me,” he pressed a button on his suit and it disappeared to his normal clothes.

“Peter you were choking out there! If I would’ve waited for your call you probably would’ve been dead by then! I saved your life, the least you could say is thank you,” you rolled your eyes and slumped back into your seat.

“Thank you? Y/N you blatantly went against my orders and did your own thing. Do you not have any respect for me?”

Your jaw dropped as Peter spoke those words. You cannot believe how irrational this boy was behaving. He was in trouble and you offered to help him.

“You know what Peter? No, no I don’t respect you. You were close to dying and I came in and saved your helpless ass. I have never met somebody so dimmwhitted, so stubborn, so incompetent, so STUPID, and so so SO annoying as you, Peter Parker. Come to think of it? How are you even an Avenger? Aren’t they supposed to have more than the one brain cell you seem to possess? Do they just let anybody be an Avenger or do we all have to suck up to Tony Stark just to get a spot on the team?”

“Get out,” Peter said through gritted teeth.

“What? Can’t handle the criticism?” You laughed as Peter slammed his hand on the center console, creating a dent.

“I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT,” you were surprised at Peter’s tone of voice.

“Get out, get out of this car before you make me do something I’ll regret,” your eyes went wide as you got out of the car and started to run home.

Peter cried that night after he kicked you out of the car. Nobody, not even Mr. Stark talked to him the way you had. The girl he fantasized about each night had called him stupid, annoying, and possibly more hateful words in the English language synonymous to the ones she had said in the car.

Peter needed to take the weekend to himself to process everything. His heart was crushed and his emotions were conflicted. Even after all those terrible words, he still had some feelings for you. How could someone so perfect for him be so cruel to him at the same time?

He avoided everyone at the compound for the weekend. Usually he’d spend the few days there to work on some new tech with Mr. Stark or train with Bucky and Sam, but you lived there too and he couldn’t face you at the moment.

Peter was also screening calls from Fury. At the end of every mission with you, Fury would demand a status report. Peter would always have positive things to say about you, but this time he wouldn’t even know what to tell Fury.

After a movie with MJ and Ned to clear his head, Peter walked back home to the small apartment he shared with his Aunt May. He felt a little better after seeing some friends, but his heart still had a pang in it from your words. Was he really as annoying as you said he was?

Peter didn’t dwell on his thoughts for long before he felt himself getting pulled off the sidewalk and into a sleek black car. He tried to fight off whoever pulled him in, but he stopped struggling once he heard the ring of his cell phone.

“So, it does work,” Fury ended the call and scowled at Peter. “Any reason you haven’t been answering me?”

Peter took a deep gulp as he figured out what he was supposed to say. “Director Fury, I-”

“She finally cracked you,” he simply stated as Peter nodded in agreement.

“I didn’t know what to say because I’m afraid of how you’d react.”

“And what did she say?” Fury questioned.

When Peter told him the whole story from the robbery to her hateful words in the car, Fury just about had blown a fuse.

“SHE WHAT?” Fury expected the absolute worst from you, he’ll admit that, but blatantly insulting her superior crossed a huge line for him.

“Director Fury, I have it all-”

“No, Parker, I’m in the driver’s seat now. No more Mr. Nice Guy,” Fury called for the driver of his car to take off.

“Fury, please, just let me handle this,” it took a lot of convincing, but Fury came to an agreement with Peter.

“If you don’t get rid of her attitude and I find out that she continues to talk to you the way that she did, I’m terminating her position with S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Fury had no time for further discussion as he basically pushed Peter out of the car and sped out of Queens.

Oh, Peter was going to do all he could to make her obey him. It didn’t matter how he was going to train her, but when the time is right he’ll make his dreams come true. Peter was going to make his fantasies come true.

After about a week of no Peter Parker, the Avenger was back and surprisingly better than ever. He made no mention of the car incident and you didn’t want to bring it up either. In fact, Peter seemed to be his happy, normal self while the two of you trained together for an upcoming mission. He was cracking the same jokes and still rambling your ears off about the usual stuff. It shocked you to say the least, he held no ill will for you because of that night. Maybe he finally wised up and was starting to see things your way.

It seems as if lately Peter has become more lax with you. He didn’t get mad when you were just a little late for training sessions or when you would begin your back talk with him. It was as if Peter changed overnight into a completely chill person. Not that you minded at all, you would definitely be taking advantage of his easy going personality.

However, you did notice something in his eyes that you never seen before. You couldn’t pinpoint it, but it was almost like whenever you too got a little rough during training, he would enjoy it and try to push the limit. Maybe it was all a test to see how far your strength could go? Whatever it was, it kept you curious. Peter was acting different, but not too far off from his normal self.

“We have a mission tonight at the docks. Be ready at 10 and we can take turns being watch,” was all Peter said to you before he left the gym to go off with Mr. Stark.

You weren’t used to going on a mission so late. Peter always wanted to arrive at missions early just in case he was being fooled by a criminal. Of course, he always ended up being wrong and everything would happen later at night than in broad daylight (you tried telling him that and he simply waved you off).

You quickly rushed back to your room, slamming the door and triple checking that the locks were in place. The events from tonight’s mission left you speechless, shocked, horrified. Never in your life had you gotten out of a car and booked it to your room so fast. Peter Parker, Spider-Man, New York’s favorite defender, had done an unspeakable act.

It started out like always, just sitting in the car hiding out. Peter wasn’t talking as much so you decided you wouldn’t make conversation either. It was only until the criminals came to the docks where it all went downhill.

Peter told you the same thing he always had, he’ll call you if backup is needed. Of course, Peter found himself in hot water yet again and you decided to intervene. Only this time, you were met with more than just yelling and a kick out of the car.

“You didn’t listen,” the tone in Peter’s voice changed.

“Peter, c’mon now you were in trouble,” you began to speak, but he quickly cut you off.

“You didn’t listen, and now you’re gonna have to be punished,” Peter had a dangerous look in his eyes that scared you.

“Peter, if you’re gonna throw me out again I’ll save you the trouble and just leave. You know I don’t get why you have to be so stubborn all the damn time, if you just-,” as you were going to open the door, you heard the lock click.

“You didn’t listen, you need to be punished,” Peter began to lean closer to you as you pulled harder on the door.

“Peter, PETER,” you screamed as he put his hand on the front zipper of your top.

“Take this off,” you stayed still, “NOW!”

You rushed to take your top off and avoided the tears forming in your eyes. You fumbled with the zipper towards the bottom and Peter groaned impatiently. He grabbed the top and tore it off of you only leaving you in a bra.

You tried to look away from him and cover yourself in the process, but Peter wasn’t having any of that. He grabbed you by the chin with one hand as the other made its way to your chest. You tried to fight his intentions, but he wouldn’t have it.

“Stop moving. I’ll make this worse for you,” he grabbed your chin harder and you stopped trying to move.

He dipped his fingers into one of the cups and began to fondle your chest. Once Peter found your nipple, he circled it with the tip of his thumb. Peter was moaning as soon as it hardened. He never took his eyes off of you.

“Take off the bra,” Peter gave you a look that dared you to defy him. You quickly got rid of the bra and he took it and threw it in the back seat.

Peter was in awe, you were as beautiful as he imagined. Your bare chest and the tears in your eyes made him hard as a rock. He took his hand off your chin and began to palm himself through his suit.

Peter made his suit retract back into his regular clothing. He took your hands and placed them over the palm of his jeans. He pressed your hands down as you bit back a terrified whimper.

“Why don’t you help me out, yeah?” It wasn’t a suggestion judging by the look in his eyes.

You pulled down his zipper and didn’t go any further than that. Peter chuckled at you and brought your hand into the inside of his boxers. You couldn’t form any type of sounds as he made you hand travel through his patch of hair and up his cock. Peter was impressive, but there was no room for a pleasantly shocked emotion.

“Now take him out and finish what you started,” Peter pulled down his boxers and fully exposed himself to you.

You started off slow with a shaky rhythm. Who could ever be confident and cool in a situation like yours? Peter didn’t seem to like what you were doing and put his hand on top of yours. He guided you up and down his cock and took it off once he gave you a pace.

“Don’t be shy, go faster,” you picked up the pace as you saw Peter swipe some precum off his tip and shoved his finger into your mouth.

He didn’t even have to say anything to get you to start licking his fingers. You closed your eyes and Peter didn’t seem to stop you. The faster this was over with the faster you could finally be home.

After a fast few pumps, he was ready to come undone. He slowed you down and then demanded you picked up the pace. You were told to open your eyes and look at him, but you would close them again after a short few seconds. When he finally did cum, he brought your body close to his cock and let it all spill out on your chest. You felt disgusted, humiliated, and baffled that Spider-Man would take advantage of someone like you.

You opened your eyes once you heard the beep of a phone. Peter had his phone out and was taking a video of the whole thing. He took an additional few pictures and stashed his phone away in case you tried to grab it.

“You might want to clean yourself up, won’t take long to get back home,” Peter tucked himself away and started the car.

When you arrived at the compound you darted out of the car before he could say or do anything further to you. If he wanted to talk he would have to call you now.

You shed yourself of your clothes and began to scrub your body down. No matter how hot the water and how hard you scrubbed, the feeling of Peter on you will forever remain. You took a few showers once you thought the scent and act of Peter had washed off of you. When you left your bathroom it was well past 2 a.m.

Making sure the doors were locked for the hundredth time that night, you finally settled down into bed. You tossed and turned for the next hour until you heard your phone buzz. Not thinking anything of it, you picked it up to see who could be texting you so late at night. Your heart dropped once you saw the messages.

One after another Peter was sending you the videos and pictures that he had taken. Each one made your stomach turn more and more. He was mocking you.

Don’t ever disobey me again or I’ll send these out to everyone.

It took a lot to impress Nick Fury after everything he’s seen and been through. Alien invasions, aliens, cat aliens, raccoon aliens… a lot of aliens. However, nothing could’ve impressed him more than reading your progress report from Peter this morning. It took all of Fury not to frame the report and send emails to all of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents the news of this miracle.

It’s true, over the past weeks you’ve been ever so obedient to Peter. You didn’t move unless he told you to move, didn’t speak until given permission to, he had you right where he wanted you and you couldn’t do anything about it. Even if you thought of telling someone of his mannerisms towards you he would hold out his phone and get the file containing all those pictures ready in a “Send All” email.

Fortunately, Peter never touched you like that night again. True to his word, you would only be treated that way if you ever went against him again. Needless to say, you were walking on something sharper than egg shells. He would tease you spook you relentlessly, even going as far as locking the car door just to see you jump.

Even late at night he would spam your phone with obscene text messages just to taunt you. Sometimes he would send you photos of himself and when he asked for some in return, you had no choice but to give in. Day by day, this man was messing with you and you had no way of outing him.

Peter would be hot on your trail if he saw you making your way to Fury’s office. He would stop you before you could even get to his office corridor. Peter couldn’t have this getting out, his credibility would be ruined and Mr. Stark and the rest of the Avengers would see to it.

He wasn’t happy about what he did, but he didn’t feel a lot of guilt either. What he did that night in the car set something diabolical off in him. It felt good to take what he wanted right there and then. Peter couldn't help but be a little prideful about what he did. He even hinted to Sam a few times that something might’ve happened between you and him.

While he was gloating you were scheming your way into telling Fury what happened. You can’t go anywhere near the man without Peter right beside you, and you can’t call Fury because he never seems to answer his phone. In fact, Fury has been out of the office more and more lately, perhaps keeping up with the other Avengers or being involved with more aliens.

Regardless of what it was, the next time you saw Fury in person you would say something.

You finished off your makeup and were now putting on the expensive dress your fellow agents coaxed you into buying for the party tonight. The material was tight and it was a little hard to breathe, but you’d get through it. Your body was buzzing in anticipation and nerves as you checked your hair one more time before heading off to the gala.

Every year, the Stark x S.H.I.E.L.D. Gala was held to promote and spread awareness for local and international charities across the globe. You never had an interest in going before, but this year you were bugged by the other agents to go and Peter had expressed his interest in your presence at the party. If you didn’t show you were afraid of what he might pull in your absence.

The hotel was extravagant, from the way it was decorated to the mass amounts of people in their expensive suits and elegant gowns. You scanned the room for Peter, but saw no sign of him. He was either taking photos with the Avengers or watching you from afar, and you wouldn’t put it past him to do that.

While you didn’t see him you got to work finding Fury. You went through the humongous crowd of people just to see if you could catch a glimpse of him, you even started to ask around, but no one seemed to know where he could be. It felt like forever and you were beginning to lose hope that you would never find him. If anything was going to happen it had to be tonight.

A tap on your shoulder stopped you in your hectic search. You knew who it was just by the clear of his throat. You faced Peter with a nervous smile on your face as opposed to the devilish one on his.

“I‘ve been looking for you all night,” Peter drank in your appearance, “you look beautiful.”

You squirmed under his gaze while he lingered a little too long for your liking. When he was finally done ogling you, you saw the lust in his eyes grow. You gulped as he extended his hand.

“Dance with me?” The band started to play a slow song.

You looked at his hand and then up to his eyes which dared you to say now. Reluctantly, you grabbed his hand as he led you to the dance floor. Immediately, a few wandering eyes were on yours and Peter’s figure as he led the first dance.

“You know I’ve been thinking. Since you’ve been so perfect lately, I was going to recommend you to Stark for a spot on the Avengers,” your skin formed bumps as he spun you around.

“Could you imagine that? My obedient little angel fighting alongside me. Ugh, could there be anything more perfect?”

You were about to speak, but the music had stopped and all attention was directed to the stage. Up walks Fury and Tony Stark, Fury was first to take the podium and began his long speech about the gala and what supporting these charities means to him and everyone here tonight. You kept your eyes on him the entire time and ignored the words Peter was trying to whisper in your ear. You only started listening to him when he squeezed your waist hard causing you to yelp.

“I said, why don’t we go back to my room when this is all over, huh?” You froze when he ran his hand up and down your spine.

“Peter, don’t you think that’s a little inappropriate?” He hummed in disagreement with you and he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Nonsense, I don’t even know why I asked, it’s not like you have a choice in the matter anyways,” the fucker laughed.

Your body was shaking and your face was turning red in anger. Peter was going to hold you down forever. There was no way you could ever escape someone as evil as him. Peter had a hold on you for as long as he wanted. You only had one chance to escape it seems and Fury had to be your ticket out.

Before you could form a response Fury handed over the mic to Tony. Fury stepped off the stage and you kept your eyes on him for the entire time. He was making his way out of the gala and you needed to be fast in order to catch him. Peter seemed too distracted by what Tony was saying so you loosened yourself out of his grip and stood beside him. Peter only glared at you for doing that, but you didn’t care, tonight would be the night you take down Peter Parker.

Slowly, you slinked away into the crowd as a round of applause sounded off for whatever Tony was saying. Peter didn’t seem to notice you leave and that’s when you took off. People were giving you disgusted looks as you began to run out of the ballroom and chase Fury.

You almost lost him in the elevators, but you took the steps and ran once you saw what floor he was heading to. You shucked off your heels and ran up the many steps to catch him. When you got to his floor, you pushed the stairwell door open and ran after him.

“Director F-,” you face planted.

Your ankles were tangled by some sort of slim rope and they wouldn’t come undone. Fury’s footsteps faded and new ones approached your struggling body. A pair of expensive shoes stopped right by your head as the body leaned down. You came eye to eye with an angry Peter Parker.

“Rebel, rebel,” he shook his head and hauled you up. You were beating on his back the entire time as tears formed in your eyes. The rope-like material was his webs which kept you trapped.

He went back in the stairwell and carried you up a few more flights until he came to his floor. The hallways were empty as everyone was still at the party. You tried to yell, but it only got you a harsh slap on your ass.

Peter stopped in front of his door and opened it. The second he closed it he threw you on the middle of the bed. He made his way to his suitcase and took out a pocket knife. You were screaming uncontrollably and he began to cut the webs loose. You knew better than to fight with a man with a knife, let alone Spider-Man with a knife.

“Rebel rebel, you’ve torn your dress,” Peter noticed the small tear towards the end of your gown and tore up the rest. “Rebel rebel, your face is a mess,” he looked at your makeup stained face. He put his thumb near your lips and began to smudge lipstick around your face.

“Rebel, rebel, what are we going to do about you?” Peter took off the rest of your dress. The only thing you were in was a lace thong. Peter licked his lips and began to trace the knife down your breast.

You were shaking, afraid that he might dig the knife deeper into your skin. Afraid that he was so mad at you he would go as far as to kill you. You started to whimper as Peter looked up. The smirk on his face grew wider and wider.

“Beg for me not to hurt you. Beg like the good little angel you are,” you were so close to not giving in, but Peter dug the tip of the blade into your skin just enough to pinch it.

“Please Peter, please, please don’t hurt me Peter,” he hummed in a way to tell you that he wasn’t convinced by the performance.

“Please Peter, I’ll do anything to please you. I’ll do anything to make you happy. Please Peter, I’m so sorry for being bad,” you were hysterical as he moved the knife further down your body. When he reached your center he chuckled and threw the knife to the other side of the room. He roughly grabbed you by your scalp and made you come face to face with him.

“Anything?” You shook your head in agreement. “Alright, I wanna fuck that naughty mouth.”

Peter pulled off his suit pants and became complete bare from the waist down. He pumped his cock a few times before grabbing your jaw and forcing your mouth open. He didn’t give you any time to get used to his size as he put all of himself in your mouth. He grabbed you scalp rougher this time and pushed your head up and down. Tears formed in your eyes again as you were forced to take him down your throat. He was a moaning and groaning mess until his thrust started to falter. Peter quickly pulled out watching in awe and the trail of saliva connected from your mouth to his cock.

Peter quickly sat you up and ripped off your underwear in the process. He started to rub his fingers along your folds where he found that you were wet. He smirked and chuckled as he continued rubbing up and down to make you become slicker than before. You tried biting back your moans, but Peter would only press down harder on your clit which caused you to cry out.

“See, I’m not so bad, princess. I could be good to you if you’re good to me,” he removed his fingers and pushed you down on the mattress.

“Peter, please,” you didn’t know if you wanted him to stop or urge you on.

“I know honey, I know. Just lay down and let me make you feel good,” Peter rid himself of the rest of his clothes and slotted himself between your legs.

His tip began to enter you and the rest of his length painfully stretched you out. You squirmed a little, but Peter reassured you it would feel better soon. Sure, he wasn’t your first, but it had been a long time since the last guy and you were a bit tight.

“Oh, angel, you really do feel like heaven,” he started to thrust a little faster.

Pretty soon, Peter was getting really rough with his thrust and making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. Peter got carried away and didn’t realize how fast he was going on you. You felt an orgasm building and were trying to communicate that to Peter but couldn’t form the words. Peter felt you tighten around him just a little too hard and he took that as the signal to pull out. After all, he did want to see his crush cum, for him and only him.

You felt the rush of your orgasm after Peter pulled out. When you looked up at him, his chest was covered in the slick sheen of sweat mixed with your arousal.

“Holy shit, you squirted. That’s got to be the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Peter went back inside you and hoisted himself on his knees and making you face to face with him. “I wanna see that again, and again, and a hundred more times.

He didn’t slow down no matter how many times you tried to beg and plead. Peter ripped out orgasm after orgasm from you and it only coaxed him to go harder and faster. Your bodies were covered in each other’s sweat and you were beginning to get a little tired. However, your eyes quickly shook away their tiredness when you felt fingers prodding your other hole.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” and as Peter continued his thrusting, he pushed one finger into your tight muscle and pounded into you harder.

“Aww fuck this feels so good,” Peter cried out one last time and finally came inside you.

You both collapsed onto the bed still connected to each other. Tears formed in your eyes once the shock wore off. He had finally gotten what he wanted from you.

Only a week went by when you had finally heard from Fury again. This time, he wanted to speak with you privately in his office. Your time with the Avengers program was up and he wanted to give his final thoughts.

“Well Agent, I am shocked to be saying this, but I am thoroughly impressed by your behavior with Peter. A little rough in the beginning, but I’m glad to see you both worked through your differences,” you wanted to scoff, but you wouldn't put a damper on Fury’s mood.

After that night in the hotel, the sex became a regular thing. Peter would demand and you were forced to give in. His punishments were still ongoing as he was still mad at you for trying to snitch on him to Fury, but now that the program has ended you and Peter Parker wouldn’t be seeing each other at all.

“And because of your improving behavior I’ve decided to push through your request,” you furrowed your brows in confusion.

“Request?”

“You know, your request to join the Avengers team officially. Parker has been raving about your skills and training that we decided to recommend you for a spot on the team. You’ll have to meet with Mr. Stark for a few interviews and sessions, but seeing as Peter has talked so fondly of you there is no doubt in my mind you wouldn't be offered the spot.”

You stayed frozen in your seat as Fury went on and on about you. You only left when he dismissed you, reminding you that Tony Stark would be contacting you soon.

When you shut the door behind you, you began to freak out. Peter was planning on keeping you as his. At this point, there would be no way out unless you either die, face embarrassment and let the video get leaked, or wait around until Peter gets bored. Knowing Peter and his fatal attraction to you none of those could happen.

On your way back to your room, you heard the familiar footsteps you’ve grown too disgusted to know. You turned around to face the man who would be running you entire life for who knows how long. Just as you were about to speak he opened his mouth first.

“Rebel, rebel, there you are.”

#Dark Avengers #dark peter parker #dark spider man #dark marvel #dark!Avengers #Dark Fic #marvel smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #maries500challenge #peter parker image #peter parker oneshot

587 notes · View notes

heliosthegriffin · 3 years

Text

Jaune of the Dead II

-------------- Two Hours earlier ------------

“C’mon Rubes, you can’t depressed all day just because you’re imaginary boyfriend ghosted you.” Yang said playfully to Ruby.

“He’s not imaginary! He’s taller than dad, blonde, and wears a white trench-coat, I keep telling you this! That the mean Schnee made me blow up, and then he showed up did a glowy thing, and I felt great! Then walked me to the place, and then disappeared like a ghost! Then I found out he supercharged my aura! How do think I could have done so well in Initiation!” Ruby said to her sister rapid-fire.

A tall redhead puts her hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t sell yourself so short Ruby, accepting your successes is necessary for good mental health, and from what I saw was enough to put some huntsmen to shame.”

Ruby pouts. “Yeah, I know! The thing is I can’t one shot a Nevermore and fly on my own! The thing is I know how strong I am, and I am not strong enough to do those on my own!”

Yang and Pyrrha sigh.

“Ruby, c’mon you’re awesome! You’re talented and you’re strong, so stop selling yourself short, wait never-mind that does apply to you.” Yang said with a shit-eating grin.

Ruby’s face was a brilliant red as she started pounding weakly against Yang’s arms. “Yannng! I drink milk, I’ll be tall one day!”

“If you say so, Rosebud.”

Pyrrha watched the exchange with a amused smile, feeling very pleased with her team so far.

She hadn’t expected to partner up with a prodigy and her sister, but destiny was full of twists and turns.

Many, many twists, like Yang’s partner and the leader of team BYRN.

Bleiss Schnee.

The notorious Black Sheep of the Schnee household and disowned daughter of Jacque Schnee for reason’s kept private, though considering what she heard of the man in the day she has known Bleiss, it didn’t paint flattering picture why he did what he did.

Who disowned their child based on appearance?

*BZZZ-BZZZ-BZZZZ*

*SNORE-SNORE*

The Black Sheep slept noisily in a dark corner of the room with her limbs thrown all across the bed as she slept under neath a black canopy bed with... her toys all still vibrating under her sheets.

A series of black glyphs floated menacingly around her bed as she slept.

Thankfully the curtains on the side of canopy bed only showed a hazy figure behind the curtains.

Bleiss had made her team go out last night to celebrate making it through initiation. They had gone to club after club, well Yang and her did, Pyrrha and Ruby left not feeling comfortable on that scene.

Yang had come back to the dorm alone, as Bleiss wanted to find someone to ‘Break her in half while folding her legs over her head,” or to find “A soft little sub to break between her legs.”

Bleiss had somehow come back empty-handed and frustrated.

Then she brought out the toys.

It had been hours before she went to sleep.

She had no idea how Ruby slept through it all, especially Yang screaming bloody murder trying to break her glyphs, which when broken unleashed somesort of insect like grimm that stung Yang without mercy.

Pyrrha was one-hundred percent sure that she started moaning louder to annoy Yang.

Thankfully, Ruby seemed to know what was going on. Apparently having walked in on Yang in a private moment before, but she still blushed red at noticing what her leader was doing calling it ‘Filthy.’

Pyrrha was also sure that it was a fools errand to try and wake her up for class. Bleiss had struck her as the type to have a couple trips up her sleeve. It did make Pyrrha ponder why she needed defenses why she slept though, but following those paths of thought those only led to dark explanations. Bleiss might make it clear one day if they grew close, and maybe, hopefully, it would have a more happy origin.

Bleiss had also made clear as leader of Team BYRN, she would go to class when she damn well felt like it. She had pointed out a loophole in the Beacon Rule book, apparently she could skip class as long as she maintained a 90% average in her classes, she could not be dropped from the classes.

A rule that was normally reserved for 3rd and 4th years who often took missions and had spend time recovering and could not attend classes, so were normally given abridged lesson and makeup tests.

Pyrrha had no idea how she going to do it, but she’d try her best to support her leader.

Pyrrha looked back to her teammates, and hopefully friends.

Yang had gotten Ruby into a headlock and was rubbing her head with her knuckles.

“Ah! AH! AH! I yield, I yield!”

“Yeah, you do, who’s the big sister, I’m the big sister, woo-woo!”

Yang dropped Ruby to the ground, who then started pouting.

Then a look of realization hit her. “See that proves it!” Pyrrha raised a elegant brow towards Ruby. “Proves what?”

“That I didn’t do all that crazy awesome stuff at initiation on my own! If I could Yang wouldn’t be able to beat me up like that!”

Pyrrha gave it some thought she had a good point.

Yang flexed her arms. “I don’t though, maybe you’re just making it excuses.”

“Maybe you just a big head!”

Yang smirks at Ruby, and then cups her chest. “I got some big somethings!”

“Ah, Yang!”

Pyrrha shook her head at her teammates antics, then her internal clock told her they had around ten minutes before class started.

Pyrrha gently clapped her hands together, not loud enough to cause shock, but enough to gain attention.

“Ahem, I do believe we have classes soon.”

The sisters looked at each other and then started cleaning themselves up for class.

Ah, she could scarcely imagine the day becoming more interesting.

--- 10 minutes prior ---

Professor Port’s lesson was interesting if veiled behind misdirection. At first Pyrrha had considered that he might be a little self-absorbed, until she started listening closely. He was purposely distracting them with long-winded stories to test their observation skills, which if one actually paid attention to would start to reveal valuable information on Grimm.

Bleiss’s twin had also the same class period as them along with her team, SBRN, Saturn. It seemed Weiss went out of her way to ignore all of them expect Pyrrha, offering her hollow praise and empty compliments.

Pyrrha had politely decline her offer to take notes together. Her team seemed nice, but it was clear there was division among-st them.

Weiss then proved to be as superficial as Pyrrha thought, having clearly been taking notes but not understanding the subtext. Prof. Port had to step in once it was clear the Greater Borbatusk was too much for her, it’s armor plating across its back and head, remained unscratched till Prof. Port grabbed it by it’s tusk and flipped it, cutting it’s belly open.

“Well, children let this be a lesson to you all, that if nothing else remember you have room to grow! And to cut a Borbatusk across the belly! HO-Ho-ho!” Despite his cheery demeanor, Pyrrha couldn’t help but notice the glint of disappointment in his eyes.

Pyrrha wished she had imagined the pleased look in Weiss partner’s eyes at her failure, and her teammates apathy towards their leaders failure. What had she done to sow such discontent in her team?

The class was dismissed and they walked to their next class, a new one if rumors were true, one that had been set up merely a day ago before suddenly being added to their schedule.

What, a odd occurrence.

It was hosted by a new teacher too, one Pyrrha had never even heard of, or the seniors if the rumors where true. But, if the rumors were true, which they usually weren’t, he was the youngest teacher in Beacon history.

How exciting.

Pyrrha, Ruby, and Yang stood outside the door staring at Weiss with her teammates entering beside her.

“I see my sister is not coming to this class, either.”

“Nope.” Yang said popping the p.

Weiss gave them all a haughty look. “Fine by me, that noisy harlot is an annoyance anyway.” She gave Pyrrha a fake smile. “It’s not too late to make the best team in Beacon history,” She looked towards the sisters. “I don’t mind trading one of mind for her to join.”

Pyrrha felt a flash of anger inside her, that was mirrored on Yang’s face, but she quickly suppressed it. “I’m sorry, but,” She put a hand on Ruby’s shoulder, and gave Yang a winning smile. “I feel I’m already on Beacon’s best team.”

Weiss scowled and stomped into the classroom.

Yang simmered before tskking. “What’s her problem.”

“I sincerely have not idea.” Pyrrha actually did if one did consider what was heard about Jacque Schnee. But, best wait before jumping the gun.

“She’s shorter than me, she probably mad she doesn’t have enough milk.” Ruby said seriously.

A snorting laugh echoed out of Yang and Pyrrha.

Pyrrha wiped a tear out of her eye.

Yang laughed. “Yeah, I bet she doesn’t have enough milk!” Yang said giving Pyrrha a knowing nod.

“I’m glad you two understand the power of milk!” Ruby said going into the classroom.

Pyrrha and Yang followed in after Ruby, and where momentarily amazed by the interior of the classroom.

It was bigger on the inside, with shelves of books covering the walls, diagrams and maps covering the walls, not an inch of the room was bare. Where there were not diagrams and books, where glass-cases, and various objects, ranging from swords, glass shards, skeletons, and weird objects that Pyrrha couldn’t hope to identify.

This did not look like the work of a day or two, this room looked as though it had been used for years!

“Wow, impressive.” Yang said from beside her. Then she scowled. “Uh-oh, looks like we got trouble this period.” She said elbowing Pyrrha to get her attention to nod towards a group of people even Pyrrha had no tolerance for.

Team VMMP; Vampire.

Vernal Wennbar

Milita Malachite

Melanie Malachite

Neo Politan.

A team of thugs and low-lifers that had somehow managed to get into Beacon.

Who, unfortunately had real skill to back up their attitude.

Yang squinted her eyes. “Something is off about them tho,”

Pyrrha had to blink thought to make sure they were the same team, though.

They were so quiet, and actually dressed for class.

Was.. Was Vernal wearing makeup?

No, she must be imagining things.

Pyrrha decided to ignore them and go sit with Ruby, Yang following behind her.

Then they waited, the class deathly quiet.

Team VMMP unusually quiet had been more than enough to cow the others into silence.

6 minutes passed.

5 minutes passed.

4 minutes passed.

and soon it would be only one minute before class started.

Their teacher, who ever it might be, hadn’t appeared yet.

Then came the sound.

*Clack-Clack-Clack*

Of heavy shoes rhythmic hitting the floor.

It had started near the edge of their hearing, sounding as if it was coming from across the school. Only for it to grow louder and louder, becoming more noticeable till it was evident it was coming towards them.

10:00.

He entered exactly as the 9:59 went to 10:00, right on time.

A head of long, messy, blonde hair came through the doorway, the hair easily coming to his mid-back. His face sharp and judgmental, but looking handsome in a imperious way. Two deep blue bloodshot eyes scanned the room as he went in, underneath his eyes were deep black bags, that spoke of a lack of sleep.

His body language tense and wary, not that much of his body could be seen as hit was covered by a billowy white leather duster, which opened to reveal stained, faded, well worn, and stitched up work clothes and pair of heavy duty work boots.

A sheathed sword on his belt.

That’s not what drew Pyrrha’s attention to him though, no it was her semblance. He was wearing metal gauntlets too over his hands and had some sort of metal armor underneath his clothes or maybe worked into them.

He was also wearing five necklaces, had a dozen rings, and had nearly twenty pounds of things, Pyrrha couldn’t imagine what, stuffed into his pockets. And that was just metal! It wouldn’t surprise her if he had more in there made of other materials.

Why did he have all those things?

She then heard Ruby’s breath hitch. “That’s him!” Ruby whispered to her and Yang.

Before she cold react he spoke.

It was not what she expected.

It was quiet, very quiet, tired too, like he had just woken up. His voice was deep, but raspy like he had a cold. But it commanded attention and impossible to ignore as within its core was a razor thin edge of Power. Of something that made his voice make her her shiver and alert to him.

‘He is dangerous,’ Something insider her warned.

“My name is Jaune Arc, I am eighteen years old, and I will teach you all the in’s and out’s of advanced aura manipulation, Soul Theory, and defense against the Paranormal. Any questions?”

-----------------

9 years and 360 days ago

-----------------

Little Jaune Arc was on his own.

He didn’t get it.

He told his parents, but they laughed at him and told him everything was fine. There was no scary lady in his closet.

He told them again. They laughed again.

He told them everyday, but they weren’t laughing anymore, they were mad.

They said if he kept making up stories for attention they’d ground him.

When he asked if he could sleep in their room, they said he was a big boy and had to sleep in his room.

Jaune stopped talking to his parents on the fourth day. They hadn’t even gone into his room. It was like that with everyone though, no one seemed to believe him, or want to go near his room!

Alicia was out hunting and out of Scroll range.

He tried Saphron and his elder sisters, but they were too busy for him. Saphron was always talking to Terra. And told him to get more creative if he wanted attention from her. Terra just laughed at him.

June was always on her scroll, and told him to buzz off.

Daisy wanted to watch tv or to paint, and told him he was distracting her, or be a model for her.

Jazz would just turn her music up till he left, or drag him into dancing.

Grace would just make him work in the garden with her, but everything he said went in one ear and out the other.

And the Rachel?

She is too young, couldn’t even walk yet.

He vented to them anyway. That was a new phrase he learned. He also learned what a phrase was at school.

“I don’t get it,” He said to his youngest sibling. “they won’t take me seriously! I keep asking and asking them to just wait till a storm hits and stay with me, but they just keep laughing, getting mad, or ignoring me!”

Little Jaune Arc grabbed his hair with both hands.

“It’s so annoying! Why is this happening?”

Rachel just played with her toys, pretending to drive a car.

A glint appeared in Jaune’s eyes.

He started playing too.

He sighed though.

“What should I do, what should I do?” He repeated to himself.

“I tried to get them to look at the window, but they keep ignoring it, I tried showing them my scars and they said they were from playing in the woods, it’s like everything I say is just being ignored.”

Jaune rolled the toy car back and forth.

Rachel bumped her car into his, pinching Jaune’s finger inbetween the metal.

A light white glow appeared on his hand.

Jaune looked at his finger in wonder.

He focused on it and tried to force the feeling back out.

Nothing happened.

Jaune frowned and looked at his hand.

He grabbed a toy car and slammed at his pinky.

A warm feeling engulfed his pinky as a white light block the car, the car bouncing off of it.

He tried to imagine it being warm again.

A faint white light ghosted over his finger, before dying.

“Hmm,” He looked at his finger. “I have no idea what I just did,” He looked at Rachel. “but, you helped.” He gave Rachel a kiss on the forehead. “Thanks sis, I don’t know if you can understand me, but thanks anyway.”

Rachel looked at him with baby blues and gave a toothy smile and giggled.

“You want to keep playing?”

------------

An: Pyrrha’s more fun to write than I thought she would be. Next up though, on the fan fic list is Arc Acres, then Dead Knight, then Prodigy AU, then Sacred Rites II.

#Jaune of the Dead #Jaune Arc #Ruby Rose #Pyrrha Nikos #Yang Xiao-Long

58 notes · View notes

halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

THE UNFORGIVABLE CURSES

Harry began his reading with high spirits, as eager as Ron to get to Moody's first lesson, no matter how much his inner mind was sending off pinging noises every time his name was mentioned.

The next two days passed without incident, unless you counted Neville melting his sixth cauldron in Potions.

"In his first week, I consider that impressive," James smirked.

Snape seemed to have attained new levels of vindictiveness over the summer,

"Can't say I'm surprised," Lily muttered bitterly.

and gave Neville detention, which he returned from in a state of nervous collapse, having been made to disembowel a barrel full of horned toads.

"Eew," Remus shuddered.

"That shouldn't be an allowed punishment," Sirius scowled hotly, "and Neville owns a toad, so that's just extra cruel."

"Actually Sirius, the horned toad is a species of lizard, not of the amphibian kind," Lily corrected.

Sirius looked stumped for a moment, muttering about insane people naming things, before he shook himself and got back on track, "it's still disgusting."

"No one's arguing with you there," James agreed.

Ron reminded Harry why Snape would be in a particularly bad mood for now, while Hermione showed Neville a spell to get the frog guts out of his nails.

"I didn't know better," Harry defended when Lily looked like she was fixing to repeat herself. "Just went by the name."

Harry agreed it was because of Moody.

"Let's just see him try anything against him," Remus snorted. "Moody'll turn him into a bat for us."

"Can't wait," Sirius said eagerly.

Everyone knew that Snape wanted the DADA job for himself, and this was the fourth year in a row he hadn't gotten it.

"Probably longer, as we don't know when he started," Lily corrected, while the boys rolled their eyes at such a minor thing.

Snape had hated everyone who had gotten the job before, and was never shy of showing it, but something was different about this time. Snape seemed to be going out of his way to avoid Moody.

James gave a maniacal laugh, as they all knew what that meant.

Harry suggested that Snape was scared of Moody, and Ron got a dreamy look on his face as he wished Moody would turn Snape into a horned toad for them and bounce him around his own dungeons.

"A dream come true," Sirius agreed solemnly.

Thursday arrived, showing the whole of Harry's class lining up outside Moody's class.

Lily couldn't help a little snort of laughter. She could just imagine McGonagall or someone coming by and seeing that and getting exasperated at this display.

The only person missing was Hermione, who turned up just in time for the lesson.

"I'm sure that's a first," Remus chuckled.

She tried to explain to the others where she'd been, but Harry cut her off saying they knew it was the library, before waving them inside saying he wanted good seats.

"Seats?" James asked.

"I guess this is a form of show for them," Sirius shrugged in agreement, he was sure they'd have been the same way at Harry's age.

The trio managed to sit in the front row, pulling out their assigned text. Not moments later, they heard the distinct clunking noise of his wooden foot headed their way.

"Can't sneak up on anyone anymore can he?" Remus said in surprise.

"It's not like you couldn't put a muffling charm on that if you need to," Sirius shrugged, "he just doesn't while in school."

"Still, he's got to be a lot slower with that thing," James sighed for the guy.

He entered and told them to put their books away, they wouldn't need them today.

"Always the best way to start the lesson," Lily smiled.

Everyone did as told, still looking excited. Moody began calling roll, his normal eye scrolling down the list, his magical one zeroing in on the person who raised their hand.

"Because that's not creepy at all," James couldn't help a shiver.

When he was done with that, he told how Professor Lupin had left a letter about this class,

"Bet that was all kinds of interesting," Sirius snickered.

"Did it start with, warning Harry Potter will give you hell, because everything in the school tries to kill him, so you need to teach him every deadly spell you can," Harry grumbled.

"I doubt I would have phrased it like that," Remus said gently, while the others looked like they wanted to laugh, or would have if that hadn't been so true.

about how they'd gone over several Dark creatures,

"Sad that Remus is the only teacher who's actually given any value to this class," Lily sighed.

such as boggarts, red caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, kappas, and werewolves.

"The last one was involuntary, but sure that's about right," Remus grumbled.

The students gave a murmured agreement, as Moody continued that these students were very behind on dealing with their curses.

"Well he's not wrong," James shrugged.

"I'm blasted you know any useful offensive spells," Sirius agreed.

"I can do my own studying," Harry defended. "I've looked up some stuff for other classes, and just ran across others."

"We're not blaming you dear," Lily quickly corrected, "we're just sad is all. This is a really important class, and the fact that you're so lacking isn't going to help you later."

"You're showing an immense display of skill knowing what you do even with the problems with this class," Remus agreed.

Harry blushed slightly at the praise, since as far as he was aware everyone was at the same level as him except Hermione of course, but the compliments were so unexpected he couldn't find it in himself to argue.

He continued that was his job for the year, and he only had that time to do it.

"He's not staying longer?" Sirius pouted.

"Guess Dumbledore can only find a temporary fix now," Remus sighed.

"Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll find a reason to stay," Lily said hopefully, as having a head auror hanging around would certainly make her feel better with all the problems Harry got up to.

Harry couldn't help but wonder why his gut reaction was to correct her, say he wanted nothing of the sort to happen, but then there was again this conflicting feeling inside like he'd enjoy this very much, as he knew Moody to be a good person. He'd never felt such opposite opinions about one man, and to have no idea where they could stem from was starting to drive him crazy.

Ron interrupted to ask why he wasn't staying longer.

Moody's magical eye lingered on Ron then, who looked suddenly apprehensive, but then Moody's mouth twisted, making his face look even more contorted than it should,

Sirius couldn't help a little chuckle.

as he smiled. Moody confirmed that he was Arthur Weasley's kid, and told how Arthur had gotten him out of a tight spot a few days ago.

"Least someone acknowledges it," Lily grumbled, still smarting about that article.

Then he agreed it was only for the year, special favor to Dumbledore, then he'd go back to his quiet retirement.

All of them gave a laugh at that, clearly his retirement was more entertaining than he was leading on if he set dustbins on people, or cats. At the reminder, they were almost hoping to hear Moody's side of the story to that now.

He got back on topic then, speaking of Curses. He pointed out that the Ministry guidelines did show that Moody was only supposed to be teaching counter curses, not to show anything illegal or Dark until sixth year, that supposedly they weren't old enough yet.

Lily was getting uneasy at the way this was starting.

Dumbledore agreed with Moody though, and decided they could cope with whatever they needed to.

"Well as long as Dumbledore thinks so," James said with much more sarcasm then he ever would have thought possible, but after everything had come out about Sirius last year, James really couldn't say he was in the headmaster's corner one hundred percent anymore.

Pointing out how were you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen.

"Merlin help it, they're fourteen, I don't want to see them having to defend themselves against anything," Lily sighed, more upset than she could put into words that even in this Voldemort free world, she still couldn't bring herself to argue this too much. Oh she'd complain about it, she didn't want her son to have to learn to defend himself, but she couldn't find it in herself either to say that he shouldn't know this either, better safe than sorry.

He explained that a wizard who was going to use a curse on you wasn't going to warn you beforehand,

"Not wrong about that," Remus nodded.

so they need to be prepared, and watchful, and to put that away Miss Brown!

James did a double take, not sure if he'd heard that last part right.

Lavender jumped and blushed, she'd been showing Parvati her completed star chart under the desk.

Sirius let out a surprised whistle, saying, "this thing keeps getting cooler. It can see through desks now! Wonder what else it can see through?"

Apparently Moody's magical eye could see through solid wood as well. He kept going, asking the students which curses were the most punishable if caught using.

"Oh, so we're starting at the tippy top," Lily raised a brow.

"It's not a bad idea," James shrugged, "start with the hardest and work your way down, by the time you get to the bottom you'll breeze through them."

"The opposite usually works better," Remus countered, "starting with the basics means you'll have a better handle the farther up you go."

"Both can work for different people," Sirius waved them off, "you really want to sit around and debate the school system, because I don't."

He turned pleading eyes on Harry, who was more than happy to keep going.

Several hands went up, and Moody called on Ron, who said his dad has mentioned one, the Imperious Curse.

Harry noticed his dad go a few shades paler in shock at the mention of that curse, so said, "So that's where I learned this," aloud, remembering he'd gone over this with his family back during his second year. James gave him an absent smile as he quickly came back from wherever his mind had been.

Lily was still chewing over the cut off argument the boys had been having, wanting to argue that they were still a spot too young to be learning this, it was seventh year material, but also couldn't push that it was wrong for them to know this either. So long as he didn't teach them the actual incantation, there was no harm in making them aware of these.

Moody agreed that one used to give the ministry a world of trouble.

"Living that time," Lily scoffed aloud, "and trouble doesn't quite cover it."

"The people who do have it used on them usually are so torn up about what they did, they don't want to come forward," James explained for Harry.

"While those who probably did it of their own free will, have no problems coming forward and pretending they were forced to," Sirius grumbled.

Moody went to go fetch a glass jar from his desk then, which contained three spiders.

The four of them shivered as they realized what was coming, Moody was going to demonstrate these spells on those arachnids. Lily's feelings of unease began rising another few degrees. Now this was definitely pushing the limit.

Harry felt Ron recoil slightly next to him, Ron hated spiders.

"And there's that," Remus nodded, thinking this was as close as he'd been to one since his time in the Forest, and it probably wasn't a pleasant reminder for him.

Moody caught one, and then used the spell 'Imperio.'

"He couldn't have at least done that silently," Lily sighed.

The boys, really weren't going to argue the point. They all exchanged wary looks, rather as upset as Lily for once on this matter. It wasn't just Harry, but he was the one they were thinking of when the thought of preserving what little innocence he had. He'd already been through so much, and hearing about him learning these spells was just that little extra saddening to them. None of them were still going to say this much out loud, they didn't want Harry to think they thought he couldn't handle it.

The spider began doing flips and cartwheels around the desk, then rose up on just two legs and began a tap-dance.

"I didn't even know spiders could do that," Harry said in surprise, unable to imagine the little black body contorting like that.

"If the bodies physically capable of the ability, even slightly though it won't do it voluntarily, the Imperius can have you do it," Remus sighed.

Everyone was laughing, except the teacher.

Lily shook her head sadly, thinking this was a good reason right there why these kids shouldn't be shown this spell quite yet. They clearly weren't old enough to realize how horrible this was, even to something like a little spider.

He growled at them if they thought this was funny, maybe they'd like it placed on them.

"Least he's keeping them on track," Sirius muttered.

Explaining that this spell gave total control, he could make anyone do anything. Jump out a window, drown themselves, force this little spider hear to jump down someone's throat...

James gave an involuntary gag at the mention.

Ron gave a terrible shudder at that idea.

Moody went on to explain that years ago, the Ministry had trouble sorting out who was and wasn't acting of their own free will because of this curse.

"So there's no way to tell the difference?" Harry sighed. "No looking at a memory through a pensive, or anything?"

"Sadly not," Lily explained. "You can erase the memory of that person being Imperiused, and then you'd just witness what did happen. It's not concrete."

"Veritaserum wouldn't work either," Sirius sadly tacked on. He hated talking about this, it was bringing back bad memories of how he kept picturing his own trial had gone getting him sent into Azkaban, but Harry deserved to know this no matter his discomfort. "Since you'd just admit to the things you did, and if the spell was done up right, you probably wouldn't even know you'd been doing it under the curse."

Harry sighed, thinking that while magic had its advantages, there were clearly so many faults in the system it was sad how easily it could be manipulated for all the cruel people of the world.

This curse could be fought, which he'd be teaching them,

"He'll be doing what now?" Lily snapped sharply.

"Chill Lil," James waved her off, "I'm sure he's just going to explain the concept. Even Dumbledore couldn't allow him to actually use that spell on these kids."

Harry got double vision for a moment, his tongue locking up before he settled back and grumbled about his stupid memory messing with him.

but it took real strength to fight this off. You'd better try and avoid it if at all possible, then he screamed 'constant vigilance!'

Harry had shouted that so loudly, that he made the others jump, lighting a smile on his face for spooking them like that and managing to distract them, mostly Sirius, from wherever their thoughts had been lingering.

Moody put the spider back, then asked for another curse. To Harry's surprise, Neville raised his hand.

"I don't want to know how he and his Gran got into that conversation," Lily shivered.

Harry was getting a foreboding feeling, like he'd be much happier if Neville had no idea about some Unforgivable spell in particular...

The only class Neville ever volunteered information was Herbology, even Neville looked surprised at his own daring.

"Poor kid," Remus smiled lightly, wishing that Neville had more confidence in himself more often. He'd clearly done well in this class given the right encouragement, hopefully Moody would help that along more.

Moody called on him, and Neville managed to get out the Cruciatus Curse.

There it was. Harry felt a distinct blow to his gut, hearing Neville talk about this put him on edge in a terrible way. He tried to shake it off when the others noticed, but it wasn't working that well. Something was lingering, something he knew deep down would be terrible to learn.

Moody's eyes lingered on him, asking that his name was Longbottom? Neville gave a nervous nod, but then Moody moved on.

"Why did he ask?" Lily couldn't stop herself from asking, her voice cracking with unease.

No one answered her, a thought flickered across their mind at the implication both Moody and Harry had given, but none of them could press it without finding something they didn't want.

He went back to his jar of spiders and got a fresh one, explaining the spider should be bigger for them to see this effect, then used the spell 'Engorgio.' Ron recoiled in horror and pushed his chair back as the spider swelled.

"Guess Ron regrets his front row seat now," Sirius muttered.

Then Moody switched spells, and shouted 'Crucio.' The spider rolled onto its back and began rocking from side to side, its legs spasming. Harry could tell that if it could, it would be screaming.

The four of them felt a terrible shiver. They'd all felt the brunt of that curse, it tended to be a favorite of Death Eaters trying to incapacitate someone long enough to run, and the reminder on something even as small as a spider wasn't a pleasant one.

Harry felt lucky, if sad for thinking so, that he only had to witness this happening to a spider, hoping dearly right now this was all he'd have to deal with in regards to that spell.

Moody kept at it, until the spider's movements began to become more jerky and it was shuddering, until Hermione screamed at him to stop it.

Lily couldn't help but sigh with relief. She had no shame in admitting that was starting to disturb her, and wasn't surprised it would get to several kids in that class.

Harry looked at her, but saw that she was watching Neville,

"Oh dear," Remus muttered, leaning into the couch in fear as this wasn't helping them lessen their worry of why Neville would be reacting so badly to this.

who was white knuckled and gazing forward with wide, terrified eyes.

"Ooh," Lily muttered, wanting to go over there and give the boy a hug. She wasn't sure if they were guessing insanely wrong, and she hoped she was, and he had some kind of personal experience with this curse or if he in particular was having a bad reaction, but either way this was a moment where a boy should be reassured it was okay to be freaking out.

Moody released the spell and shrank the spider back to normal size, explaining to the class that you didn't need knives to torture people when you had the Cruciatus. That had been a very popular one at a time to.

"Here's to dying out spells," James shivered.

He put the spider back and asked if anyone knew another. No one answered, like they were all afraid to see what would happen to the next spider.

"I already know, and I don't want to see it," Harry sighed.

Then, for the third time, Hermione finally gave a shaky hand raise.

"Why does she know this?" James balked, realizing this for the first time. "Just what the bloody hell kind of book is she reading to have come across this, you'd think this would be restricted section material."

"Merlin only knows," Sirius sighed, "we can hardly claim we were saints in getting to know some information. Hermione's just doing the same thing, but not exactly putting it to the same uses."

Moody called on her, and Hermione answered 'Avada Kedavra.' Moody agreed with another twist of his mouth.

"I don't like it when he smiles anymore," Lily grumbled.

Agreeing the last and worst, was known as the Killing Curse. He went back to the jar and placed the spider on the desk, where it stood frozen.

Lily couldn't help it. She wasn't a fan of spiders by any means, but she could feel her face tightening in displeasure for what she knew was coming.

Without any kind of hesitation, Moody raised his wand and cursed the spider with 'Avada Kedavra,' and with a flash of green light, the spider lay dead.

"I personally wouldn't have demonstrated that spell on a spider in front of Ron," Sirius tried in vain to shoot some humor around again, this depressing mood was driving him crazy. "Now that's going to be Ron's solution to every spider he sees."

"Hopefully Hermione will convince him his boot will work just fine," James added on out of obligation, still to on edge to really have his fun.

Several students almost screamed, Ron nearly toppled out of his chair as the body went skidding in his direction.

Moody swept the tiny black body off his desk without concern, addressing the class to explain that there was no countercurse to that spell, no way to block it. Only one person had ever survived, and he was in here.

Harry watched the faces around him drain of all color. They had certainly guessed this, evidence had been piling up since Harry's remembered dementor memory coupled with his knowledge that if he struggled to remember on his own he'd find a flash of green light and that was it. It was just, put like that, it seemed unreal. How had Harry survived that? How had Lily actually found a way to protect him from it? She'd died to save his life, Dumbledore had made that clear, but how on earth was this possible? Lily couldn't have been the first mother to step in the way of her child's death, so why wouldn't any of those instances counted in saving another child's life. If they were understanding this right, then Harry's situation shouldn't have been as unique as it was.

Yet Moody himself had just confirmed as much...which meant that something more was going on. Something had to have happened other than just Lily staying in that line of fire without moving.

Harry sat there in a state of unease as he tried to understand why Moody would even know that. How would anyone know these details?* He'd only worked them out because of his dementor experience, but then he presumed that the rest of the populace must have just pieced it together from the scene they'd walked in on. After all, the Avada Kedavra curse seemed a preference of Voldemort, and they would have seen the effects of it being used on James and Lily. Then they most likely would have seen the body of Voldemort, but Harry still sitting in his crib, and rightly assumed it had rebounded from the child, hence his fame.

Lily was starting to get goosebumps all up her body as she tried to piece together what else could have happened that night, if somehow James had also been involved, but the longer she thought about it the harder it was getting to breathe. No one wanted to think about their final moments, even if they had been the reason her son had lived.

James wasn't any better, his throat tightening like he was being forced to hear about Lily's final moments all over again, the thought of his only son being abandoned in that crib for Merlin knew how long before Hagrid found him with only the corpse of his mother for company. He couldn't get his brain past that appalling image to think on anything else.

Remus and Sirius exchanged an unspeakable look, knowing that it would break them apart inside to do so, but they were the best ones who could actually sit around and talk about this, they wouldn't dream of keeping the others around for it, but someone had to figure out what the bloody hell had happened to make this possible, it could save their lives if they could find a way to activate this earlier somehow.

They couldn't do anything now though, it would be disastrous if they tried to convince them to cut the chapter off for now because all three would protest they could handle it and try to join in, they were that kind of stubborn. So the two of them silently agreed they'd wait until later, and for now they did what they did best, caused a distraction.

Remus snuggled up next to Lily, platonically wrapping his arm around her and giving the baby in her lap a playful tickle and saying, "well this sucks."

Sirius gave an extra loud snort, telling him, "you have a way of understating things. You're not wrong though, so how about we get to the end of the lesson. I want to gripe at Moody for giving you homework."

James was still shaking his head slowly from side to side, clearly vacant to everything around him, so Harry wriggled up to his side, only hesitated for a second, before throwing an arm around him and promising, "I get it. Do you want to stop, or-"

"No," James muttered, "just keep going."

Harry exchanged a look with Sirius, but couldn't find a reason to argue either.

Harry felt his face flush in shock, as all eyes turned to him. Harry stared down at the dead spider, and wondered if that's what his parents had looked like, unmarked and unblemished?

'Okay, I lied, I want him to stop now' James tried to rasp that out, his mind certainly screamed it loud enough in his head, but the words closed off and Harry kept going almost feverishly, clearly struggling to get this out loud.

It was one of those terrible moments where Harry was actually pretty bitter at this book for publicizing all of his personal thoughts like this, something he never would have shared with those around him.

Was the last thing they'd seen a flash of green light, before nothing?

'Yeah, that about covers it' Sirius whimpered, desperately latching onto the first memory he could to stop himself from crying, thinking of his brother that way, and instead he saw a white ferret bouncing around, and it cultivated into a strange look on his face that the others chose to ignore.

Harry had been picturing his parent's death for three years now. He knew they'd been betrayed by Wormtail,

The three Marauders still gave an involuntary flinch every time that was mentioned.

and handed over to Voldemort,

Because they had just loved hearing about all of that the first time through.

Not one of them could say a word to Harry though, what could they say? Snap at him for dwelling on all of this, they'd probably be more concerned for his well-being if he pretended he never did. These were his private thoughts, terrible as they were, and they just wanted this part to be over, so none of them dared speak a word.

who had arrived and killed Harry's father first. James had tried to fight him off, telling his wife to run with their son, but Voldemort had killed him, then his mother, before turning his wand on Harry. Harry knew these details, because whenever he was around a dementor he heard his parent's final moments.

Harry speed read through all of that, detesting how it made each of them look likely to faint any moment, hating himself for dwelling on it when it only caused them pain. If there was anything he ever wanted to skip in these books, it's whenever mention of this came up.

Moody was still talking, and Harry had to struggle to pay attention.

'Thank Merlin for that' was the first thing Lily coherently thought, twisting a strand of hair around her finger in agitation, the comfort of Remus at her side and her baby on her lap all that was holding her together. It was taking everything in her not to go over and curl into James chest here and now, but she refused to show just how upset this was making her, she had to be stronger than that.

He was still talking about the curse, how much magic it required to use. The students could pull out their wand right now and try, and Moody wouldn't even get a nosebleed.

"Be fun to try," Sirius said viciously, irrationally blaming Moody for having brought all of this up again.

Moody wasn't here to teach them how to use the spell though,

"Could have fooled me," Remus growled so low no one was sure of the exact words.

he was here to show them the worst of the world, so they'd be prepared. Then he screamed 'constant vigilance!' at them again.

Harry couldn't stop himself from shouting that again, though this time not a smile was seen. Harry had let that loose with primal emotion, the need to shout his frustration at his family's soon to come situation coming out in those two words. He regretted it when he saw how hard they all jumped, it clearly hadn't done anything to help, but when a rebuke didn't come he kept going, realizing they all understood why he had.

He went back to teaching, saying that the three curses were known as the Unforgivable Curses. Using any of these three on another person would get you a sentence in Azkaban.

'That's not the only way' Sirius couldn't help but hiss, forcing himself to only say that in his head, no need to bring up something he preferred to avoid.

This was what the world was up against, what you were going to be fighting! You had to be prepared, armed, and always vigilant.

'I don't want to be an auror anymore.' James hadn't even realized he'd thought that for a moment, but then he considered it, and realized how deeply he meant it. He'd pictured himself being the hero, hauling in all those terrible Death Eaters who dared harm Muggles and Muggleborns like his wife. It wasn't until Moody had showed off all of this though did the full impact of that job really sink in, how much it would cost him if he did pursue this. Sure he knew about a lot of this stuff from his own time in his DADA classes, but none of his teachers had ever managed to make it seem so realistic. He tried to brush all of that away for now though, knowing better than to try and make a life decision in the heat of the moment.

For the rest of the lesson they took notes on the Unforgivable Curses, and no one spoke again until class was dismissed. The students barely made it out of the door however, when they all burst into excited chatter about all the spiders had done. Harry watched them speak of the lesson like they'd just seen some great show.

"This probably went without saying, but I'm saying it anyways," Sirius grumbled, "I still prefer Moony. He would have gotten through those kids thick heads this isn't a stupid game."

"Thanks," Remus said sincerely.

"I think this just proves they were too young for that lesson," James sighed, "I still don't think we can claim any better if we'd been shown that our fourth year instead of seventh. Even Moony might not have gotten that through to them."

"Thanks," Remus repeated with a touch of sarcasm this time.

Hermione wasn't listening though, forcing her way through the crowd and hurrying her two friends along, and when asked where she was trying to rush off to, she pointed down a side corridor where Neville had hidden himself.

"Oh the poor dear," Lily sighed, wrapping her arm even tighter around her own infant. Neville had seemed like a really sweet and sensitive boy to her so far, she hated to think what this had done to him.

Neville was alone, looking vacantly out the window, his eyes still as wide as when he'd seen the Cruciatus Curse in action.

"He definitely knows someone that's been through that," James gave a blistering sigh at finally having said what they were all thinking.

"Or it was used on him," Sirius said lowly.

"Sirius!" Lily shirked, "he's fourteen, what the bloody hell-"

"You can't pretend it's never happened," Sirius cut her off with steel gray eyes.

Harry was watching all of them with a deep sense of fear now. He wanted desperately for them to stop talking about this, he didn't want to keep hearing about it, because the more they did, the more sure he was they were on the right track. Thankfully he was the one with the book in his hands, so he kept going loudly.

Hermione whispered his name quietly, and Neville turned around on autopilot as he began trying to ask what dinner would be.

"Don't think I could eat a bite actually," Remus sighed.

"He wasn't actually speaking to you, ya twat," James made his first attempt at a smile this chapter at teasing his friend.

Hermione asked if he was okay,

"Oh he's clearly peachy, and you," Sirius huffed.

Neville agreed everything was great, speaking of the interesting dinner and what would be for their lesson, err food.

Lily pursed up her lips so tight they went white. She'd already felt horrible enough today because of the confirmation of her death, which felt imminent at this point. To see the effect it had on her family was terrible to watch, but to see it even being put on another innocent boy somehow still managed to make it worse.

All three of them were watching him with a half terrified look, unsure of how to comfort him, when the clunking footsteps of Moody announced his arrival. He instructed Neville to come have a cup of tea with him.

"Aw," Lily cooed, her eyes finally shining with light other than threatening tears. "He actually recognized what he did bothered him, and he's trying to help."

"Moody's an old softie, especially on those he deems worthy," James gave a slight smile.

Harry didn't hear a word of this, because he was fighting back the urge to start swearing colorfully. Something about the idea of Moody trying to comfort Neville, of even being in the same room with him, set him so terribly on edge. He tried to lightly dig into this feeling, wondering if Neville was in danger and he should be worried, but all Harry felt was a sense of wronged. Had Moody done something to Neville? Bright spots were beginning to flash across his eyes from the pain of even doing this, and by the time he phased back into the conversation, he realized they were all watching him with real concern.

"Harry, are you okay?" Sirius got out first with something like genuine fright on his face. "You looked really ticked off there for a second, does Moody take away your broom or something?"

Harry shook his head sadly, sighing deeply before saying, "can't say, just know that bothered me for some reason. I'm sure it's nothing, I think I'm just worried Moody makes things worse, or something."

"That could be it," Remus agreed fairly. "He's not exactly the cuddly grandpa type."

"At least he's trying," Lily defended.

Harry gave them the best smile he could muster, couldn't quite hold it long enough to be believable, but still he pressed on reading before anyone could keep going.

Neville looked terrified at the idea and looked wildly to the trio, but none of them could come up with a way to protest. Moody turned to Harry and asked if he was alright, and Harry gave a defiant yes back. Moody nodded like this didn't surprise him, then turned back to Neville and explained he knew this seemed harsh, but they had to know this stuff. Then he began steering Neville away, telling him there were some books he'd have an interest in.

"Maybe if he was Hermione that would have helped," Remus tried for a laugh, which fell flat when he noticed Harry's unease at Moody giving Neville a book somehow seemed significant to him. What on earth could that be about?

Neville gave one last pleading look back, but followed in Moody's wake. Ron asked what all that could have been about, but none of them had an answer.

"I can't even honestly say I want to know anymore," Lily shivered, too many horrible thoughts fleeing across her mind.

They started walking towards the Great Hall then, Ron still talking about the lesson as he agreed with Fred and George, Moody really knew his stuff. He was still impressed by that Avada Kedavra curse, the way that spider had just snuffed it-

"That's right Ron, focus on the spider," Sirius said in a too high pitched voice.

but he quickly fell silent at the look on Harry's face. All three of them remained quiet as they made their way down to dinner, where Hermione began eating at top speed again before running off for the library.

"Missed but never forgotten," Remus said, meeting James's eyes fleetingly, but continuing as if in a joke with a rather forced smile he'd never admit to. "I'm starting to get the feeling that's just going to be the pattern for most of the year until she finds whatever's bothering her."

The boys ate before going up to their tower, where it was Harry who brought up the curses again, asking if Moody or Dumbledore would get in trouble for showing them those curses?

"The ministry doesn't interfere in Hogwarts," Lily shrugged. "It's at the headmaster's discretion what his students learn. Dumbledore clearly thinks you can take it."

Ron agreed they could, but Dumbledore has always been able to do whatever he wanted. They found their favorite spot by the fire and decided they should get started with their Divination homework.

"Well don't get too excited," James muttered, "it'll ruin all the fun of the work."

They went up to their dorm, to find Neville alone

"Oh good," Lily chirped, more than happy to be thinking on anything else now, even if Neville wasn't exactly a happy topic. "You didn't mention him at dinner and I was a little worried."

reading a book. He looked more like himself, though his eyes were a little red rimmed.

They all let out pitiful sighs, wanting to know what had struck him so bad, terrified of getting the answer.

Harry asked how he was doing, and Neville happily said he was doing fine now, showing off the books Moody had given him 'Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean.'

"And Neville's best subject is Herbology," Remus smiled warmly.

"So Moody really did go out and help him," Lily crooned happily.

Harry put up a strained smile in agreement, he knew this was a very good thing that had clearly made Neville feel better, so what about the mention of this book was sending off alarm bells for him?

Professor Sprout had mentioned to Moody that his best subject was Herbology, with some pride now in his tone.

"Which should be there more often," James said fairly. "Everyone's got their strengths."

"He's been getting more confidence every year," Sirius nodded happily.

Harry smiled, pleased to hear that Neville had been cheered up like this. Moody slipping in Sprout's praise was a tactful way to do so, it was something Professor Lupin would have done.

Remus flushed bright red at the praise, but no one denied that they'd actually been thinking the same thing about him.

Harry and Ron went back downstairs to do their work then, which was tedious at best. Hours later of working on sums and symbols and they hadn't progressed at all.

"You're putting way too much strain into a class that you both hate, and is irrelevant to your life," Sirius snorted.

"Don't be like that," Lily scolded. "I don't like the class much either, but you don't want him getting a T in the class just to spite the teacher, that's like cursing your own nose to spite your face."

"I doubt he's getting a career to do with Divination," James sided with Sirius, "and everyone's got one flunk class. No need to deter him from more important things."

"It's not as if he's got any other homework to be doing," Remus sighed, "so it's good he's keeping his priorities up and doing that first."

"Why did we keep you around again?" Sirius snorted, now trying to get Harry to move on.

Ron finally suggested they just do the old Divination standby.

Causing all three Marauders to laugh at that.

Lily gave Remus the stank eye in particular, saying, "you'd just agreed with me he should be doing this, why are you laughing that he's not even going to be doing it properly."

"I agreed it shouldn't be ignored," Remus admitted with a smirk, "I never said to what degree. It's a class where for his final exam last semester he made up something. I think you can get away with the homework in the same style."

"Now I remember why we kept you around," James cackled.

Harry quickly agreed to the idea, and watched Ron begin jotting down on his parchment that on Monday he'd get a cough because of Mars and Jupiter. Then he reminded Harry that all they had to do was make it bad things, and she'd eat it right up.

"It's sad how true that probably is," Lily finally acquitted.

Harry started his own now, saying that on Monday for him he'd likely to be burned. Ron agreed that was true, as they'd be dealing with the skrewts again.

"Harry's obviously pretty good at this," Sirius snickered along, knowing it would be pointless to offer a few suggestions, but wanting to anyways.

Harry moved on to Tuesday, where he decided he'd lose a possession. Ron began writing that Mercury would cause him to stab a friend in the back.

Harry was starting to get an odd sensation at Ron saying that...had Ron just made a real prediction in the form of a joke again? It wouldn't be the first time, though he really disliked this one.

Harry wrote that on Wednesday he'd lose a fight, and Ron agreed on his own that he'd lost money to that fight.

"At least they're having fun doing their work," James beamed, "can't say that about too much homework."

Lily couldn't help a light giggle at that.

The predictions became steadily worse as the night wore on. Crookshanks joined them at some point, sitting in a chair and watching them with a disapproving look as if his owner were there instead.

"Even Hermione couldn't get at you for this one," Remus pouted, "she hates Trelawney as much as you."

"Wouldn't stop her from lecturing us on the proper procedures of homework," Harry smiled indulgently at the thought of his friend.

"Still love that cat," Sirius inserted with high amusement.

Harry was looking around the room for some inspiration when he spotted Fred and George off to the side, looking over some parchment with a quill.

"Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes again?" James asked hopefully.

"Their mum can't tell them off for it now," Sirius agreed happily.

Harry though wasn't so sure. He didn't know why, since his initial reaction had been that Fred and George would keep at their joke shop dream, so this would be a perfect opportunity for them. What else could it be about?

This was an odd sight, as those two were usually in the middle of everything, not tucked away.

"Best place to be," James sighed, trying to look back fondly at some old memories that hadn't been tainted yet. He and Sirius were the sort of spokespersons for the Marauders, always the center of every crowd, whereas Remus and...well he kept off to the side and preferred to stay out of the limelight, which was better for him.

There was something secretive about their behavior now, and Harry didn't think it had anything to do with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, as otherwise they would have invited Lee.

"Maybe, maybe not," Sirius shrugged. "It depends on how much they trust him as a business partner, or just an idea generator, or what."

"Maybe he's out doing something else at the time," Remus agreed, "and they'll show him later."

"Good ideas don't come at your own timing," James nodded sagely.

He wondered whether it had anything to do with entering the Triwizard Tournament.

"Now that I'll believe," Lily grumbled.

Harry though still didn't look satisfied with any of these answers. Something wasn't clicking right.

Most everyone had gone to bed by now, so though he spoke quietly, George's words carried across the common room about how they couldn't phrase it like that, it sounded like they were accusing him.

"Err," James said with a lot of unease that time.

"Accusing who of what?" Remus frowned.

"If we knew, you wouldn't have just asked," Sirius snarked at him.

Remus stuck his tongue out at him, but no one really could come up with an answer for what that could mean.

George looked up and around then, and Harry quickly turned away so that he wouldn't be spotted listening, but not moments later the twins went off to bed.

"Well that's not encouraging," Lily muttered as her face puckered up in thought.

"Accusing?" James repeated with a ruffled brow. "You think they caught someone doing something illegal?"

"Can't be anyone at the school," Sirius muttered, running his hand through his hair, "can't imagine why they'd write out a letter for that, they'd just confront the person."

"We haven't really seen the twins doing anything that none of the other Weasleys have though," Remus grumbled. "So when could they have come across this?"

"You think this is the same thing they were doing over the summer?" Lily offered. "Which means it had to have happened around the time of the Cup."

"The only difference there was the bet they set up with Bagman," Sirius shrugged, "and he paid them back."

"Maybe they're looking into whoever mugged Bagman," James said, clapping his hands together as he thought he got it. "We thought something like that had happened when Harry saw him in the forest, remember? What if the twins figured it out, and they're trying to get him to turn himself in."

Harry was starting to fidget a bit, getting the feeling they were definitely on the right track, but there was some glaring oversight that one of them had said that made the whole thing fall through. He couldn't imagine what though. He had seen Bagman pay the twins back, and Bagman had looked pretty tossed around, so surely his dad was right.

They were out of ideas for now though, so Harry kept going.

Hermione came in a while later, with a sheaf of parchment and a rattling box. Ron finished his homework with a flourish as she took her seat, and she automatically pulled his work towards her.

"I swear that's second nature to her by now," Harry chuckled lightly, happy to move on to a subject that wasn't depressing or didn't give him a headache, which is what the majority of this chapter had been doing to him.

Hermione sarcastically asked that they weren't going to be having a good month. Ron happily lounged back as he said at least they were warned.

Giving them all a light moment of laughter again.

Hermione was reading down the list and pointed out that he was drowning twice.

"Guess it can happen to the best of us," Sirius happily shrugged, while Harry felt yet another twang inside him, something about Ron in the water?

Ron reached over to change that to being trampled by a hippogriff.

"Now that's out there," Remus said mildly. "As you avoid the Forest."

"But he was forewarned," James said back with wide insistent eyes, unable to wipe the smirk off his face. "So now he would know not to go in there."

"You're all impossible," Lily chuckled.

Hermione told them that it was obvious they'd made these up,

"So?" All five of them muttered, as they doubted Trelawney could prove otherwise, or would care.

but Ron said in mock outrage that they'd worked really hard on these! Harry finished his as well, his final prediction being that he'd die by decapitation.

"Now that's a lovely one," James snorted.

"You should get an O just for that," Sirius nodded eagerly.

Then he asked what was in the box, and Hermione gave an annoyed look at Ron as she said how happy she was he brought it up,

"She can't even take a joke," Remus sighed, though admittedly intrigued as clearly they'd been right, whatever Hermione had on her may have something to do with her sudden house-elf fascination.

She took off the lid and showed them several brightly colored badges that said S. P. E. W.

"Spew?" James asked in confusion.

"Why did she make a bunch of badges encouraging people to put milk out their nose?" Sirius agreed.

"You're disgusting," Lily snickered.

"What, it's what people do when they-" Sirius began to defend himself, before James reached around Harry and whacked him to get him to stop, waiving Harry on so they could see what this was about.

Harry asked what spew was, and Hermione corrected you were supposed to say the letters, it stood for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare

"And that is?" Remus asked with his head cocked to the side, must be something really new.

Ron said he'd never heard of it, and Hermione agreed that was because she'd just started it.

"Oh," all five of them finally caught on.

"Well, I guess I can see Hermione's line of thinking," Lily said slowly. "She couldn't find anyone to care about what was going on with the elves, so she started her own campaign. I rather like it," she finished, clearly warming to the idea.

"Could have gone through some better names first," Sirius snorted.

"Like you lot are any better," Lily said back stoutly. "Marauders? That's not exactly original."

"I blame McGonagall," James said a little too loudly, and Harry and Lily were a little surprised to see some strain coloring all three boys now. "She called us that during our first year, when we were all caught together the first time, and ah, it- it just kind of stuck-"

Harry turned back to the book quickly now, trying to keep reading loudly to change the subject. Neither him, nor his mother, really needed further explanation. Cleary McGonagall had called them that first, but if the boys reactions were anything to go by, it had been Pettigrew who suggested they use it as their group's name. Thinking back, they'd also mentioned it had been the rat's ideas for their own nicknames. It must hurt them dearly to have an almost constant reminder of how much he'd had to do with their life, and Harry wasn't going to let it linger longer than he could.

Ron asked how many members she had going, and Hermione said when they joined, three. Ron asked why he'd want to walk around with a badge that said spew.

"That'll get you attention at least," Sirius tried to get out around his gritted teeth.

Hermione again corrected to say just the letters, saying that she'd wanted to call it 'Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status'

Remus forced his mind to concentrate on every letter, it was far easier to think on then other things at the moment, and instead said, "S. O. A. O. F. M. C. is kind of a mouthful, how would you even pronounce that?"

"Still think it would have been better she'd gone with that," James shrugged, "less easy to make fun of.

but decided that would be their manifesto instead, now showing them her parchment.

"It's actually rather nice to see she's trying so hard," Lily grinned, "if anything, I believe it will draw attention to what she's trying to do."

"For better or worse, let's find out," Sirius sighed.

She'd been doing research in the library since she got here, and discovered that elf enslavement went back centuries. She found it shocking no one had done anything before now.

Sirius opened, then closed his mouth, deciding he didn't want to start something with Lily again.

Ron said an extra volume too loud to get her attention, that they liked being enslaved!

Though thankfully he seemed to have Ron to say it for him, as Sirius gave a slight laugh. That'd been pretty close to what he was going to say.

Sirius managing to give a genuine laugh again finally managed to distract James and Remus from their school thoughts again, and Harry eagerly kept going now that he had their full attention.

Hermione kept going like she hadn't heard him, stating their short term goals, which would be to get house-elves common pay, and their long term goals were to include changing the laws for non-wand users and getting an elf representative into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

"Ironically, it's the short term goals she may have the most issue with," Remus said with honest interest. "As you'd be going directly into the house-elves way of life trying to get ahold of that. It's the other two that I can see her really making a change of, as house-elves aren't the only ones suffering those problems. She could rally more troops for that cause."

"I think I know what Hermione wants to do when she grows up," Sirius said brightly, "take on Lily's job in the Legislation department."

"She could be the next Minister of Magic," James agreed with only a small portion of that being mocking.

Harry asked how she planned to do all that, and she said their first goal was to start recruiting, getting members to join. It only cost two Sickles for the badge, she had a collecting tin upstairs she needed to give to Ron as he would be treasurer, and Harry was to be secretary, so he should start writing all of this down as their first meeting.

"Oh that's nice, tell me all this after you've said everything," Harry snorted.

"I just love how she automatically assumes they'll go along with this," Lily chuckled, "as they've given no indication before now they care."

"Good friends don't need to rely on their backup," Sirius said wisely.

Hermione paused for a moment to beam at them, and Harry was torn between exasperation at Hermione, and hilarity at the look on Ron's face.

"Can't deny I'd have loved to see that," Remus laughed.

They were saved from responding though by Hedwig tapping at the window.

"Yes!" They all couldn't help cheering. None of them would admit until this moment just how truly terrified they'd all been Hedwig wouldn't show up again, and the next time they'd get a mention of Sirius would be in the papers announcing his Kiss.

Harry bolted to the window, shouting how it was about time. Hermione eagerly asked what Sirius had written,

"Give him a chance to read it," James said with an undisguised sigh of relief.

but when Harry opened it, he found it was incredibly short. He chose to read it aloud, starting with Sirius saying he was flying back.

"You're what?!"

The baby began wailing in shock, but Lily quickly tried to soothe him down without taking her eyes off of Sirius.

James, Remus, and Lily had screeched that at about the same time, Harry had kept looking dumbstruck at the page, making Sirius wince and rub at his ear in pain, but he had a fighting look already set in place as he shot back, "good for me."

"Are you insane?" Lily got out first, she looked like at any second she was going to start strangling him, a menacing accomplishment while holding a child. "You can't come back, it's too dangerous for you. You're bleeding lucky those dementors aren't back at the school this year, but you still can't risk anyone seeing you on the grounds!"

Sirius was glaring around at all of them, clearly seething, but-

"I'm with Lily on this one," James surprised him by saying. When Sirius turned to argue with him instead, he found something quite surprising.

James looked almost fragile as he watched Sirius, a description that no one could usually give to James Potter, but he looked it now. Sirius reflected that after everything that rat had put them through last year, well the way James was looking at him now made it clear what he was thinking. He confirmed as much when he kept going in a still too tight tone, "I can't hear about you going back to Azkaban Sirius. Unless something really, really bad is happening, you need to stay as far away from Harry as you can."

"Harry's scar hurting again is a bad sign," Lily quickly agreed, "but there's no need to put yourself in extra danger until something more concrete happens." She was still trying, futilely, to deny that the Dark Mark was just as terrible a problem and would bring Sirius back just as much.

Sirius sighed as he glanced between the two, then he glanced at Remus who'd remained quiet through this. He however just shrugged, saying, "Look, I'm not judging you Sirius, you've got more than enough people in this world doing that, I'm just begging you to think for a second. It's not logical, in fact it's the opposite, not to mention it terrifies me! You really think I want to sit here and read you got yourself killed, well, being you!"

Sirius grumbled under his breath for a moment, but clearly outvoted he instead redirected, "okay, fine, but I don't know what you're all yelling at me for! It's not like I'm going to do this tomorrow!"

That at least gave them all a pause, recognizing that though they feared for his future, telling him off for this now really wasn't doing any good.

Harry at least managed to keep going without his panic bubbling over. Surely if they could convince him of this now, Harry could get the same thing through to him before he made it back.

News had reached his ears about what all was going on, and it was good that Dumbledore had put Moody in the school, at least he was reading the signs.

"What signs?" Harry asked.

The four of them exchanged unhappy looks, but they weren't going to lie to him either.

"Your war has started a lot the same way ours had, did," James sighed, skipping past the time jump. "Random disappearances of people, or at least one that we know of. Maybe it's just because we know who did kill poor Bertha, but I'm sure there's a lot more going on you're not hearing about."

"I'd like to think Dumbledore may be keeping me in on that loop though," Sirius kept going. "So maybe I know more than I put in so far."

"That Dark Mark probably gave you heart failure as well," Remus sighed.

Harry smiled around at them all, happier than he could put into words that they'd actually bothered to explain all of that to him. He wasn't sure why this in particular would mean so much to him, but it was nice they weren't trying to hide this from him at least. It didn't exactly put him back in a good mood as he kept going though.

He promised he'd be in touch, then signed off.

Harry was gaping down at the letter, while Hermione voiced her worry that he was coming back, and Ron asked about the signs?

Hedwig was sitting on Harry's lap, but gave a startled jump when Harry hit himself in the forehead, exclaiming how he shouldn't have told him!

"Oh come on pup," Sirius began whining at once. "You're first reaction to something I'm doing, is to turn and blame yourself."

"I don't want you coming back Sirius," Harry said at once with too wide eyes. "You're safer out of the country, and if telling you my scar hurt is what made you come back, and then you got-"

"Okay," Sirius waved him down, as Harry's voice had started edging towards shouting levels, mostly directed at himself, but with the baby in the room they were trying to avoid that. "Alright Harry, calm down. We've talked about this, remember? You cannot go blaming yourself for everything that I do." He had to speak a bit louder, as Harry looked to cut him off, "if hearing about something going on with you was a motivating factor in me coming back, then I regret nothing. Now give me some credit, the lot of you," he added on harshly as he turned hard eyes on everyone in the room. "I got away with it for a year, and I was only caught because of Snape."

Harry was still dithering, unable to shake this terrible fear he didn't want Sirius coming back, it would be best if he stayed far away, which would keep him alive. He clearly wasn't winning this argument in this timeline though, so he hoped dearly he would in Sirius' future.

Sirius frowned as Harry kept going, as he'd hardly agreed Sirius was right and this wasn't Harry's fault.

Ron asked what that meant, and Harry shouted about how Sirius was coming back because of him, now slamming his fist on the table and watching Hedwig hop around indignantly.

"Poor Hedwig," Lily muttered absently.

Sirius was coming back because he thought he was in trouble, and he wasn't!

"I disagree," Sirius grumbled, "you've got some real mental problems."

Harry shot him a nasty look, thinking this shouldn't be joked about, which Sirius matched back, as he'd argue tell he was blue in the face Harry was safer with him around.

The two sat glaring at each other for a few moments before Remus cleared his throat, and Harry turned back to the book with a touch of indignation.

Hedwig was clicking her beak at Harry in reproval, and he snapped at her that he didn't have anything for her! She took off with a shriek of protest, cuffing him in the head with her wings.

"Temper, temper," James sighed, unable to say he wouldn't be acting the exact same way Harry was in that situation. Sirius never admitted how dangerous his actions could be, and coming back was one they all but him agreed was a terrible one.

Hermione tried to soothe him, but Harry wouldn't hear it and stomped off to bed.

Harry knew that if Sirius came back and got caught, it would be all Harry's fault.

Sirius' hand twitched like he wanted to smack Harry for saying that, but Harry turned sharply and snapped, "I was just reading it, you can't tell me off for doing that yet."

"Exactly," Sirius grinned back, "I ain't done it yet, so knock it off with the attitude."

"You haven't denied that you would do it though," Remus sighed.

Sirius scowled at him next, but when he still said nothing to the contrary Harry continued in seething tones.

He berated himself why he'd even told Sirius.

"That I'll disagree with," James sighed. "I'm glad you did tell Sirius, he's the best person to have told, but his reaction to it isn't what we were hoping for."

"Well I'm so sorry my coming back is such a bother to you lot," Sirius snarled. "I don't regret it for a second though."

"And that's our problem," Lily snapped. "You won't admit that it's even vaguely a bad idea."

"Because I'm staying closer to Harry," Sirius ground out. "I don't know what you lot have been listening to, but you can't pretend that stupid first chapter never happened. Something is definitely up with Voldemort this year, and I want to be there for that."

"Please let me strangle him, just a little," Lily turned beseechingly to James and Remus.

"Not until he actually does it," James sighed. "If in fifteen years or so he does it all again, despite our warnings, then have at him."

"Hey!" Sirius pouted, though there was nothing mock about his outrage.

Remus at least gave a small laugh, though Harry still didn't look remotely appeased. His dad's joke had only been yet another reminder that Harry should be as adamant as ever about keeping Sirius safe, none of them could stand the thought of this future actually happening to him.

Ron came up moments later, but didn't try to speak to Harry. As the dorm fell silent, Harry's mind was too busy spinning to realize the absent snores from Neville's bed meant he wasn't the only one lying awake tonight.

"Chapter's over," Harry groused, giving the book a toss to Remus.

HPHPHPHPHP

*Question offered by Narutofan8762

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #GoF #Marauders #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

3 notes · View notes

itsclydebitches · 4 years

Text

Welcome back, everyone!

A quick note before we begin: after the previous recap a couple of lovely friends and anons explained to me some discrepancies in my work, mainly about how Fox's semblance functions and how much info we’ve gotten on that previously. They're worth a read if (like me) you haven't read After the Fall and would like a more accurate picture of this whole project. However, I have to admit that sadly past!me didn’t think through the usefulness of those posts and tag them appropriately... so they’re just somewhere in the mess that is the “rwby” and “mymetas” tags. Still, I wanted to acknowledge their existence, both for your potential use and as another disclaimer along the lines of, “I’m reading what amounts to a sequel and recapping as I go. Prepare for a bumpy ride.”

We're on chapter five now (of twenty-two! Holy god I’m slow!!) and truth be told I actually enjoyed this opening. We're in Yatsuhashi's head this time around and he's likewise enjoying Vacuo's Meeting Spot, an "artificial oasis" that reminds him of his mother's healing gardens. I wonder what "healing" means in this particular context. A generalized benefit to your body, mind, and spirit in the form of meditation? Or a more literal, magic-based healing with its roots in aura use? In a world with RWBY's possibilities, a healing garden that someone like Ozpin might run—let's take time to settle ourselves and reflect—vs. one that someone like Jaune would create—let me use my semblance to literally heal your wounds—are rather different things. I'd be interested to know which category (or another) Yatsuhashi's mother falls under.

Regardless, it's a satisfyingly quiet scene. Yatsuhashi comments on both the beauty of the oasis as well as how that beauty, in turn, raises the desert in his eyes. Nothing like not having to deal with a hard landscape to make that landscape seem more bearable, alluring even, and this moment managed to capture that feeling rather well. The only downside is that, in a recurring theme, I once again got whiplash upon realizing that Yatsuhashi is not standing alone in the peace of the early morning, like the description had led me to believe. Apparently Velvet is there. As well as the whole freaking student body! Myers* has this strange habit of writing one kind of scene only to suddenly reveal that the scene is actually radically different from what his writing had encouraged you to imagine. Yatsuhashi is going on about healing, natural beauty, and the peace of an early morning. What's peaceful about dozens of students speculating beside him? Have you ever met a school of sleep deprived young adults dealing with a surprise announcement before breakfast? That’s as far from peaceful as humanly possible.

Mood, kid.

(*Also yes, we're working to write Myers' name correctly this chapter. If I'm going to drag his work so much the least I can do is not add an additional 'e' to his name lol.)

Along with the entirety of Shade Academy to break the peace, Yatsuhashi tells us about dromedons and mole crabs. The former, according to the wiki, is a "camel-like Grimm that can spit acidic venom" and also sports an armored hump. Fun! The latter, according to Yatsuhashi, is a "horrifying" creature that "slept just below the sand and could cut a person in two with their massive claws." And they're the normal, non-grimm animals! Screw Salem. Humanity needs huntsmen just to keep people safe from the everyday wildlife. Crabs cut people in two, Zwei is capable of being set on fire and launched at a mech... it's a miracle that anyone ever steps outside their home.

I do write this with full knowledge that Australia exists, but still.

As Yatsuhashi moves away from thoughts of killer crabs, we begin what is easily the strangest bit of repetition this chapter. Yatsuhashi's shoulder is sore from having tried to break down the hideout door and I'm going, "Wait no, you used your sword” and frantically flipping back through my PDF. To Myers' credit, there is a detail that suggests Yatsuhashi uh... rammed the door? I think? Last chapter he "Stepped forward and Fox heard him grunt with exertion." That's the only thing I can think of that would explain his shoulder unexpectedly being sore hours later: if he'd charged it instead of doing something insane like, oh, I don't know, trying the doorknob first. Odd choice of continuity, but okay. What's super weird though is that Myers repeats the detail again:

Yatsuhashi crossed his arms, then grimaced as a fresh pain shot through his shoulder. Come on, Aura, he thought. Do your thing.

I'm sorry, how badly did you hurt your shoulder? Why does a supposedly intelligent student immediately resort to what is apparently somewhat serious self-harm when faced with a closed door? Why is Myers choosing this of all things to tell us about? Is this incredibly random shoulder injury going to hinder Yatsuhashi during the test? Spoilers: I don't think it does considering that I searched for "shoulder" in my PDF and there's just a lot of hands on shoulders coming up, but nothing that, at first glance, seems to make this kind of set up necessary. So I say again: weird.

Meanwhile, weirdness doesn’t even acknowledge the continued inconsistencies with aura. Jaune heals a cut on his cheek instantaneously, but hours later Yatsuhashi needs to gripe at his aura to hop-to already? So either Jaune’s aura is far more powerful than the average person’s (never established outside of Pyrrha’s “You have a lot of it” comment), or Yatsuhashi really hurt his shoulder that badly. Hard enough that with the rest of the night and early morning to heal him, his aura is still working overtime.

Alrighty then.

So the whole student body is just kind of hanging out, striking up casual conversations. Velvet asks how Yatsuhashi is doing and he says he's fine, "Thanks to you." Wait... what did Velvet do? I mean yeah, she was there last night and she's here now, but so is the rest of the team. I don't really recall her helping Yatsuhashi in any specific way. As is the norm now, I remain mildly, endlessly confused by this novel.

But we don’t have time to delve into the gratitude attached to events I’m not actually sure happened. There’s more chit chat going on as everyone tries to figure out why they've been summoned so early in the morning. "It's not always about us," Velvet says and I nod along in agreement even though I know, as a reader, that it's absolutely about them. "As I'm often reminding Coco."

Coco fires back with how it "could be about us," noting that it would be pretty coincidental if something else was going on right now, plus Rumpole may have realized they were out last night. (Remember, Yatsuhashi wasn't subtle about trying to break down that door). This is one of those moments where I agree wholeheartedly with Coco's logic, but kind of hate to encourage the 'It's all about us' attitude. Velvet might be smiling, but as previously established this is an ongoing theme within RWBY's characterization that it could really stand to do without.

Yatsuhashi then offers some "unsolicited advice" about how Rumpole could afford to slow down some and "let things come at their own pace," to which I respond, "Huh?" Where in the world did this come from? Previously the whole group—including Yatsuhashi, considering he didn't speak out against it—was concerned that Rumpole wasn't doing enough to track down the Crown. That is, do more, move faster, get it done already. You haven’t gotten it done? Okay, we’ll do it instead. Now he's providing this subtle criticism in response to a meeting, as if that's an inherently odd or bad thing for a headmistress to do. You want the woman to do extra work faster but slow down when it comes to her actual job?

It reads to me like Myers is trying to put a lot of wise-sounding dialogue into Yatsuhashi's mouth—you know, the Asian character who keeps bringing up things like meditation and mindfulness—but hasn't bothered to think about whether that dialogue makes any sense. Of course, we then immediately backtrack to reveal that his comment was really about Coco not pushing the team too hard, but... that's not what he said? And Coco clearly didn't get the message. And the hidden meaning of the words didn't come across too well if your reader is squinting at what was said until the author has to straight up go, 'This is what Yatsuhashi actually meant.' Maybe just... have him say that? Give us some significant looks towards Coco, at the very least. Something to clue us in here that Yatsuhashi is (weirdly) blaming Rumpole for Coco's flaw.

Then he just ruins the whole scene further by mentally commenting that if all this extra work was hard on them, "what would it do to SSSN?" Ugh, look. I don't even like SSSN very much. I didn't shed a tear when they left the main series and would shrug if they ever came back, so you know the story is ragging on them too much when I'm standing up for the group at the bottom of my Character Adoration list. The duality of 'SSSN is so incompetent I don't even know how they're alive' and 'That, in comparison, makes us the best team ever' got old forty pages ago, yet I have the distinct feeling it won't be letting up any time soon.

Headmaster Theodore finally arrives to break up this thrilling conversation and the students erupt into thunderous applause. "It was what [he] expected. It was what he inspired whenever he appeared." That... is absolutely hilarious. This guy is so much of a showman, so insanely over the top, that he expects people to treat his everyday appearance as a spectacle worthy of praise and they agree. You know who he reminds me of?

The king himself, Alex Louis Armstrong. I'm digging this already. It's absurd and I will forever question RWBY's ability to balance comedy with its darker tones... but I'm counting this one as a win so far. There's got to be something to praise about this book.

Just as important, we get a description of Theodore's positively insane outfit. I immediately googled to see if someone had drawn him and the fandom did not disappoint. I'm not going to include the image here in case the artist, Edisu, doesn't want their work reposted like that, but I highly recommend you check out the link and get a visual.

The only thing left to say about this fashion monstrosity is that he has a "flowing gray-blue cape, the color of a stormy sky." I'll let our favorite textile engineer make my point for me:

Honestly, between Ruby's cape and Weiss' hair someone is going to end up in trouble one of these days.

In this world free of horrific cape tragedies, we've segued into a flashback which is, frankly, kind of boring compared to the others we’ve gotten. It's just the group meeting Theodore, information and characterization that could have easily been distributed to the audience in the present. It's starting to feel like the structure of including a flashback each chapter is hindering Myers somewhat, just because every chapter doesn’t necessarily need one, but that’s far from the biggest issue to tackle.

We learn that Theodore (really Rumpole) did a bunch of research on all the students involved in the Vytal Festival and they're very pleased that Team CFVY has joined them now, despite the horrific circumstances. We again hear about how judgmental Coco can be, that her judgements are rarely wrong... but if they are wrong she's the last to admit it. So really that's less of a 'This character has good instincts about other people' and more 'This character is just, as said, judgmental and then stubborn about it when she’s wrong.' Theodore, however, seems like a cool dude:

“Ah, she speaks!” Theodore strode toward Velvet. His voice softened. “You didn’t fail, my dear. You fought. You stayed, far longer than anyone would have asked or expected of a student. And now you’re here. Do you want to be here? Will you fight for Shade the way you did for Beacon, Velvet Scarlatina?”

This is great. This is the kind of reassurance I would expect from a headmaster who, thus far, has received a fair amount of praise. Unlike his students, Theodore understands the risks Beacon students took and when it was time for them to make a life-saving retreat. He's inspiring while also being empathetic and honestly? That's the most I've had that 'You're a good person' sense from RWBY in a very long time.

Now watch Theodore turn out to be evil lol.

He cuts the tension of the serious conversation by proclaiming that if any of them doubt whether they should be here, they should take it up with him via a fight. Theodore announces this while striking a pose. I say again:

We then get some more reflection on how Theodore compares to Ozpin:

Ozpin had believed in you before you did, almost like he knew your true potential, despite what your transcripts or fighting abilities looked like. Theodore believed you had potential, but you had to earn it and prove yourself to him first.

I agree with that and I'm pleased to see that this time the comparison didn't involve criticizing Ozpin in an effort to build Theodore up. It’s likewise a useful description and I think it provides us with at least one interpretation of why the RWBYJNR group has discarded Ozpin so thoroughly. The addition "despite what your transcripts or fighting abilities looked like" implies that Ozpin sees potential in everyone. It doesn't matter how presumably flawed you might be—in physical strength, like Jaune; in morals, like Lionheart— Ozpin will see the good in you and give that good a fighting chance. That's why he's the one tasked with doing something as crazy as uniting the whole world because he's the one person capable of seeing that potential in literally everyone. That much is true. But the flipside of this is that, unlike when in interacting with someone like Theodore, no one expects to have to work for Ozpin's faith, his praise... his trust. With Theodore you have to "earn" the respect he gives you right from the start. With Ozpin it's free! So surely that means such faith extends to every possible situation, right?

Which is when you run into trouble. When the situation is no longer "I'll give you a chance in my school" but something much more serious like "I'm risking the whole world on your character." Ozpin is an optimist, but he's also cautious as hell (with good reason), so though he sees the potential in everyone he knows he can't let his own hope for humanity blind him to reality. That person might betray you. They might turn on you. They might give up and hurt you in the process... even if you want to believe that people are simply better than that. Wanting doesn’t make it so.

If someone who had as little interaction with Ozpin as Team CFVY did nevertheless developed such a strong sense of, "Yeah, he believes in everyone!" then it seems likely that Team RWBY, already sporting a special connection with him, thought they were shoe-ins for every possible secret and task they might ask of him. Their time at Beacon was defined largely by both intentional favoritism and coincidences that could arguably be read as such. Ruby gets to go to Beacon two years early. She gets to be team leader. The sisters stay together despite teams supposedly being random. Team RWBY goes on missions not meant for first years. Team RWBY is given a nudge-nudge-wink-wink about The White Fang so that they can do what they’re able to help. Team RWBY was friends with Pyrrha, next in line for the Maiden powers. They got used to Ozpin simultaneously solving all the real problems that showed up and letting them play at being important, all while the rest of the school had to follow normal rules. They’re special. But then Beacon falls, the game is over, and they're blindsided by having to earn trust and privileges in the real world. Playing at huntresses in the safety of your headmaster’s school is over and Ruby in particular never got that there was a massive difference between that and a real war where the fate of the world hangs on your trustworthiness and ability to keep it together. It’s why she announces to the Argus guards that she is a huntress while attacking the people she’s meant to protect.

Which would be a fantastic arc to give them if the show ever had someone sit the group down and tell them how childish and selfish they're being. Instead, they're still being handed that trust and privilege—you can go into Atlas despite stealing from the military, you get your licenses years early, you get to carry an incalculably valuable relic around—while likewise still getting mad that the adults around them don't give them more. This comparison here, though realistically just a throwaway passage in a novel rather iffily connected to its original series, starts to highlight the excellent situation RT set up... and then didn't do anything with.

But I've gone on about this long enough. There are just two other things I'd like to point out about this flashback. The first is that it may help us get a handle on Ozpin's age (if we're willing to accept these books as canon, despite their other inconsistencies). Earlier we're told that "Headmaster Theodore’s whole style should have been ridiculous for a man likely in his forties, maybe older" and here, in describing their different approaches, we get "Headmaster Ozpin, who had been younger but seemed much older." So that could potentially put Ozpin his his late 30s if he's noticeably younger than Theodore in his 40s. Or, in his 40s if the "maybe older" part is right and Theodore is in his 50s. I can’t imagine that Theodore is in his 60s. Not much to go on, admittedly, but I'll take whatever I can get. The interesting thing is that if Ozpin really is that young and Qrow is now (presumably) in his early 40s, wouldn't that have made them basically the same age during his Beacon days? Perhaps even giving us an Ozpin who was younger than his oldest students? I don't know. It's really less of a definitive piece of information and more messy speculation to add to the pile—which is par the course for RWBY nowadays.

The second detail I wanted to point out was that despite all their supposed differences, Headmaster Theodore and Professor Rumpole have a very Ozpin-Glynda relationship going on. For all the cosmetic changes it boils down to the same dynamic. Both headmasters are powerful, quirky men who at first glance appear to be rather useless at their jobs, requiring the confident headmistress to swoop in and manage the daily running of a school. Those two do the heavy lifting while their bosses work wonders from behind the scenes (a la The Wizard). When I read Rumpole chastising Theodore for claiming he investigated the students, or when she reminds him that there isn't time to have an impromptu duel with his students, I couldn't help but think about Glynda reluctantly letting Ozpin invite Ruby to Beacon early, or cleaning up the cafeteria while he shrugs off the mess. To be clear, I don't necessarily mean this as a criticism, just an observation. In truth I'm not sure how I feel about it, but it adds to the overall sense that Shade is just Beacon with a slightly different coat of paint. As I've mentioned previously, for all the text's insistence that Shade isn't like the other schools, the story hasn't done a good job of demonstrating that cultural difference in any meaningful way and similarities like this only add to the feeling that this isn't really a unique Kingdom—or at least not one with a firm enough identity to be persuasively unique. Same rule breaking team sneaking out on their own mission. Same secondary team who’s talented, but not as special as the protagonists. Same strange man with his responsible woman running the school. The details differ, obviously, but the structure feels largely the same.

As mentioned above, once the flashback ends Theodore tries to spar with one of the students but is quickly shut down by Rumpole because, you know, they have a meeting to hold. Apparently there have been complaints lately from the local security about Shade students interfering with official huntsmen business.

“I told you it was about us,” Coco muttered.

Coco, when you hear that people are pissed that you, an unlicensed student, are disrupting the careers of professionals every night the takeaway should not be, 'Aha! I knew it was all about me.'

Yatsuhashi at least provides a more nuanced perspective. "This wasn’t right, though. If they hadn’t interfered, those Huntsmen would have kidnapped an innocent person." He's right. They did help someone, but what they've failed to learn is that an individual good deed does not excuse the unlawful steps they took in getting there. If Team CFVY had just been out on the town and happened to spot some shady characters pulling shit, then put a stop to their kidnapping, that's fine. That's heroic. What is not heroic is them going out with the express purpose of fixing a situation that trained professionals told them they should not be trying to fix—key word being “trying,” given that they all understand Rumpole’s worry that they’ll make things worse. It was enough to send them back home last night... after Yatsuhashi failed to break into the hideout. The problem is not the "I helped someone who needed it" part but rather the "I'm arrogant enough to think that my presence is necessary" bit.

If having students conducting investigations was wanted or necessary, it would be a part of the curriculum: acknowledged or otherwise. AKA yes, Ruby. It would be very helpful if you'd head on off to Mountain Glenn, under the observation of a seasoned huntsmen, and report back if there's any dubious activity going on over there. Ozpin said, 'Yes please' to the extra (highly controlled) help while these professionals are saying, 'No thanks.' The fact that Team CFVY acts is if they're justified in continuing this investigation—and worse, that the story keeps validating those feelings—undermines their otherwise heroic actions. RWBY really is a series that struggles with giving its protagonists compelling reasons for getting involved in the fight. ‘Because I want to help’ might be a noble motivation, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you should. The Mountain Glenn mission was like a chef allowing a talented, aspiring teen to help them with a dish, all of it done under their tutelage. Team CFVY’s investigation is like the teen sneaking into the kitchen after dark to doctor all the prep for the next day’s cooking under the assumption that they’ll make it even better. Hell, maybe they will! But that’s not the point. Your help was not invited — explicitly denied, actually —and there’s a very good chance you’ll mess something up.

So because this group of eight continually insists that they know best, the whole school is required to stay on campus after nightfall. Huzzah!

It’s just too bad these consequences hurt others just as much as Team CFVY. The other students are pissed about this. I would be too! Team CFVY remains adamant though that they did the right thing, no guilt here, relying on the reader inaccurately comparing ‘saving lives’ with ‘losing free time off campus’ in order to come out on Team CFVY's side. They still fail to understand that helping people is not the reason they’re being punished.

Theodore and Rumpole reiterate that they are working on a solution and that no one else should be getting involved. Team CVFY is no more persuaded by this speech than they were the previous ones. The announcement then segues into discussion of the former Haven students which produces... boos from the audience?? My god, what is wrong with this school? I mean I get it, school is brutal—both in real life and fiction—especially when the social dynamics of your school are written much more like a high school than a college, but usually if characters are going to drag new students it's in the semi-privacy of a bathroom or an empty hall. Groaning over the existence of war survivors in front of your headmaster is a level of confident cruelty I didn't expect.

Then again, RWBY is the show that gave us Cardin pulling on Velvet's ears in the middle of the cafeteria, so perhaps I shouldn't be surprised.

Theodore quickly bypasses the whole 'A decent number of my students hate these other students' issue and instead acknowledges that it is "difficult to adjust to a new school, an entirely new group of classmates, and most of all to life in Vacuo. Yet some of you have been separated from your original training teams.” Which is a nice way of saying that a good number of these teammates are dead. So what's the solution here?

Reinitiation Ceremony!

I'm sarcastic, but in all honesty I don't hate this idea. Far from it. Partly because I have a strong love of competitions in shonen-esque stories. Tests, trials, the obligatory tournament arc... they've always been some of my favorite parts of a series, largely because they allow the author to develop whacky and creative challenges that show off important characterization. See: Killua using a skateboard during the tunnel run before deciding that if Gon can manage running it, he can too; or Izuku using the mines and a piece of scrap to blast himself ahead of Bakugo and Todoroki. The structure of such tests forces characters to demonstrate creativity and critical thinking skills alongside strength, and that in turn reminds us of why they're our heroes. RWBY managed this a little bit with the Vytal Festival, but overall I don’t think the teams did anything particularly impressive to win. Team RWBY worked together, Nora hit people really hard with her hammer, Weiss' injury pissed off Yang enough to tap into more power... it was all stuff we had seen before and very little of it required planning or creativity. The Vytal Festival functioned more to set up the plot developments of Volume 3, which is fine, though for a while I had hoped that we would get a huntsmen license exam to do this sort of work... which obviously didn’t happen. Disappointing, but we’re at least getting something like that here.

So I love the concept. I even love the general reasoning behind holding the ceremony at all. Anyone who had spent five minutes on this blog knows that I think the groups need to learn to play well with others. Yet I also can't deny that the team dynamics provide stability for these characters, even if they've come to rely on that stability to an unhealthy degree. We've got students whose teams were presented to them not just as a professional tool, but their primary support system. You live with these people, attend all the same classes, spend your free time together, and survive life-threatening situations on a fairly regular basis. It's work, family, and friendship all rolled into one, so if the headmaster suddenly says that you get a new team, that's a whole lot more devastating than just learning that you've got a new project group to deal with. It shouldn't have come to that—a school looking to teach a profession that requires working with a wide variety of individuals should never have told four students to rely one each other and each other alone—but now that we're here you can't just break them apart with no notice. Especially with a traumatic war going on. It's hard to come to a new school, meet new people, learn a new culture... so let me rip away the one piece of familiarity you have left.

Of course, I don't really think that the teams will be broken up irrevocably, if at all. Rather, I simply want to acknowledge that despite my appreciation for these kinds of stories and despite my desire that the teams get some distance... it shouldn't be done like this. Even more-so when it’s abundantly clear—to us if not the instructors—that this little stunt is causing their students to re-live a whole bucket load of trauma. Yatsuhashi thinks about how this feels like an “out of body experience” and “It reminded [him] uncomfortably of the evacuation of Beacon Academy… He felt his breath catch in his throat.” Coco’s order to stick together “[brought] him back to the moment,” re-emphasizing that he was lost in the past for a while there. He’s clearly struggling.

Now, to be fair, this could all fall under the category of flawed characters. Meaning, anytime something awful happens in fiction we can interpret that as a skill on the part of the author: they wanted to write a scenario where the teachers are screwing up and unintentionally hurting their students. Or they know they’re hurting their students and consider that to be an acceptable sacrifice under the justification of ‘They have to get over Beacon at some point!’ There are lots of ways to paint this as Myers/RT writing complex, human characters who make ambiguous choices—a testament to their ability to write “realistically.” But to be frank I don’t really buy it. Simply because I’ve had a lot of experience now with how RWBY handles subjects like trauma and it’s only rarely been written respectfully and engagingly. I could be proven wrong as the novel continues, but it seems more likely that Myers wrote the instructors coming up with this test, wrote Yatsuhashi panicking over it, and intends to continually imply that these two things are separate plot points. Bringing both together in a narratively useful way would require acknowledging the instructors’ motivations—Why this test? Why now? Do they realize the harm they’re causing? If so, do they think it’s worth it?—and then coming to some sort of resolution, either via some recovery on CFVY’s part due to the instructors’ choices (this test did help us move past Beacon), or the instructors learning something about empathy and trauma via CFVY’s reaction (we never should have done this). I highly doubt we’ll get either.

Thus, everyone is (justifiably) horrified. The teams are gone and either the shock of that made Team CFVY prioritize feelings of safety over strategy, or they're just not going to demonstrate any of the intelligence I look for in this kind of arc, because they immediately start obsessing over staying together.

He needed to keep his team close to him. Especially Velvet. If they weren’t separated, they couldn’t be assigned to different teams.

Yatsuhashi, that is not at all what Rumpole told you:

“It’s already begun,” Rumpole said. “Everything you do from this moment forward will factor into your evaluations for new teams.”

Where in the world did you get the idea that you wouldn't be assigned a new team so long as you stuck with your old one? If I were one of the instructors here that choice would make me more likely to separate them. "Everything you do from this moment," Rumpole says, meaning that how they respond to this information is a part of the test. The team that panics and refuses to separate is the team that either can't function without one another, or at the very least believes that they can't. They're not willing to work with others and thus they're precisely the type that needs to learn this skillset. You're the ones they'll want to give new teammates to.

Of course, fate has different ideas about how things should go down. And by "fate" I mean "A completely ridiculous plot device." Team CFVY is separated because... the crowd is large I guess? It’s ridiculous. Four fighters already standing beside one another and who are now hyper-focused on staying together are not going to get swept away by a Shade size crowd who probably also want to stick with their own teammates. There are far better, far more convincing ways to keep them apart. Ozpin shot students one-by-one into the forest! Literally anything other than what we got, really.

Still, that’s what we wound up with. Yatsuhashi and Coco both try to keep the team together only for the immense power of other people existing putting a stop to their plan. Alrighty then. Before they’re dramatically swept away on different ships, however, we do get two other noteworthy bits of information that I'd like to end on. The first is Rumpole’s announcement that “When you reach your destination, your goal will be to locate a gold figurine and bring it back to the school” to which Fox replies, “Great. Glad this is fair for everyone. Who can see.” And you know what? He's right. Maybe Fox and I will both be proven wrong (I feel like I'm writing that a lot this chapter...) but unless there's some miscommunication here or a surprise in store, a goal of "locat[ing] a gold figurine" is indeed a sight based challenge and, when placed in a test that is deliberately separating Fox from his team, puts him at a severe disadvantage.

The second is simply that the year levels of the students will not be a factor in the creation of new teams. “What year we are? Yatsu thought. This can’t be right. How could a first-year keep up with fourth-years?” to which I respond, "Um... that's the entire show?" The webseries RWBY is about how Team RWBY, starting out as first years, has surpassed everyone around them, to the point where they're now beating the best team in Atlas. Time-wise they're still second years—far as I can figure out, anyway—so if second years can beat elite military operations, a first year can stand toe-to-toe with second, third, and fourth years. More crucial to Yatsuhashi's thought process—because as an in-world character he doesn't necessarily know what Team RWBY has been up to post-Volume 3—he's still seen how well first years did at Beacon. Ruby was let in two years early. Pyrrha is such a phenomenally talented fighter her face is on their cereal boxes. A first year, Yang, went on to compete in the Vytal Tournament final (even if it was rigged. Yatsuhashi doesn't know that), and Team CFVY fought beside a number of first years at the Battle of Beacon. Now, you all know that I think education and experience are damn important. I'm not saying Yatsuhashi is flat-out wrong to question whether there would be any issues attached to slamming, say, a first year, two second years, and a fourth year into one team (especially when you consider practical questions like going to classes), but the general takeaway of "How could they keep up?" seems a tad strange. You know first years can keep up. You watched it happen, both in your former school's curriculum—first years get to go on an upper-level mission—and in real life battle. This knee-jerk response reads as even worse after five chapters of looking down on Team SSSN. Team CFVY really thinks highly of themselves, huh.

Honestly, it feels like our authors didn't pay a whole lot of attention to the implications of the dialogue/thoughts they’re giving to the characters which is, again, par for the course at this point. Like the questions attached to the test, this feels less like giving Yatsuhashi a flaw (he, as an in-world character, hasn't bothered to think through whether his knee-jerk assumption about first years is supported by his experiences) and more like a flaw of the creators. That sounds like a legitimate concern—in the same way that Yatsuhashi's advice to Rumpole sounds generically wise—but poke at it a bit and you start finding a number of cracks. An author who is well aware of the world they've built and strives to adhere to it might have had Yatsuhashi acknowledge some of the amazing things he's seen first years do and still conclude that there are problems with this decision. That's legit. As it stands, Yatsuhashi just sounds ignorant and (again) overly confident, which I don't trust to be a moment of character insight as opposed to an authorial blip.

Which is about where we end. The team is split on different airships, no one is happy about it, and we're left with this somewhat unsettling image:

Headmaster Theodore was waving and whooping, like it was all some terrific game, while Professor Rumpole watched silently, her hair whipping around in the wind and an unsettling grin on her face.

This gives me some hope that the story will treat the problems attached to this test respectfully. The description of Theodore acting "like it was all some terrific game" is a mark against his character and Rumpole straight up has an "unsettling grin on her face." Is she one of the baddies? Potentially. Will I ever again get adult characters who aren't depicted as inept, traitorous, or just so flawed that they unwittingly cause great damage to their students? Probably not. These two desires remain constantly at war with one another. RWBY introduces issues that the story should tackle, but the only issues it acknowledges are those attached to the adults. So we have everyone doing a range of iffy things, but only the elders are likely to be punished or (better yet) learn something over the course of the tale. The double standard remains so strong across the franchise that at this point I just want to raise a THE ADULTS DID NOTHING WRONG banner and call it a day. Not because they're actually free of mistakes or even, at times, downright cruelty, but because if our protagonists constantly get that free pass I'm not sure why everyone else can't too.

Anyone for a spot of denial?

But I've now written nearly twice as much as the actual chapter in question. It's time to stop! At this rate I’ll have written the equivalent of five Before the Dawns in my attempt to recap just one. #yikes

Until Chapter Six 💜

#rwby #BTD Recaps #Before the Dawn #mymetas

22 notes · View notes

paradiselostbythedashboardlight · 3 years

Text

Quarantine, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Wrote 430,943 Words of Prose in a Year

As we are coming up terrifyingly fast on a full year of quarantine with no end to the pandemic yet in sight for most people, I’ve been taking some time to reflect on the last year of my existence in a state that most people now refer to as quarantine. Since March of 2020, I, like most other sane people in my country, have stopped traveling, going to stores, seeing all but a limited group of other humans, and begun having recurring nightmares about being in crowds without a piece of cloth over my nose and mouth.

Suffice to say, it has been a bit stressful.

The other thing that I have done since COVID-19 began rapidly spreading across the globe last year is write over 430,943 words of fiction.

The number seems insane to me still. That is (approximately) one Gone With The Wind, one entire Lord of the Rings series, or the first four Harry Potter books. That is still sadly not yet War and Peace (but who knows… the pandemic isn’t over yet).

So now that I am looking back, I find myself with one question: how did this happen? Why did I do this? What does this mean about my life this year?

Since apparently I answer best by writing a lot, let’s begin at the beginning. Let me tell you a story. I’ll keep it short, I swear.

Part 1: Blast From the Past

In March of 2020, I was still in the midst of an academic semester. There was a long academic document to write and a class to teach. However, as quarantine abruptly robbed me of most of my usual commitments, I was suddenly thrust into the position of having more time on my hands than I knew what to do with. Consequently, I decided to break out the Nintendo Switch I’d gotten for Christmas and revive a childhood interest in video games.

And boy did I. I played the games I owned for all they were worth. I played them during the evenings when I had no social engagements to attend. I played them during the Zoom meetings I was already struggling to pay attention to. By the end of March, I had finished one game, and it had set the wheels turning in my brain.

Here’s a fact about me: I don’t usually tend to write or read a lot of fanfiction about things that I consider really really good. Basically, fanfiction for me has always been an impulse born from incompletion or imperfection. I see no need to add to a perfect story (although I happily consume and create fanart). But for something enjoyable and yet slightly unsatisfying? That’s fanfic territory, bud.

So by April, I had developed a sort of epic fanfiction for this video game I was playing. It was one of those magnum opus kind of ideas, a grand retelling of the story with a huge sprawling plot and Themes (™).

At first, it was merely a thought experiment that lived only in my head, a sort of entertainment to ponder in the hours before falling asleep. What changed? Well, a friend of mine decided to also write a fanfiction on the same video game and she kindly consented to let me read it.

Suddenly, I was ravenously hungry to read and to write and to share and to consume. I wrote a hundred thousand words of this fanfic in April and into early May, sending each chapter to my friend and being spurred onward by her kind comments.

The fic became a gargantuan endeavor full of strange little challenges I set for myself. It was a canon-divergence, requiring plotting, worldbuilding, a darker and grimer tone. For some reason, I decided to write each chapter from a different character’s perspective, making the final product into a series of essentially short story character studies which together formed a plot.

By the end of May, the story was published for the world to see. It was well-received, although not particularly popular by fandom standards. And that was the end. I had gotten out my pandemic crazies, the semester was over and now I could move on. I had made my peace with the source material, plumbing all of the little details that I wanted to examine and creating a narrative that I found satisfying.

It was over.

Part 2: Summer Lovin?

Except that it wasn’t.

Confession: as I had been posting my giant fanfiction, I had also begun to explore the fan community itself, mostly curious to see some nice art and gather a bit of demographic info about what was popular within the community. As a result, I found a fanfic recommendations page. Among the recommendations was one author who kept popping up and i finally decided to give the fic a read.

Woah. It was good. Like, really good. Like, professional quality writing and themes that seemed designed to appeal to me. I devoured everything that the creator had posted in a week and then subscribed to eagerly wait for more.

As June rolled around, I realized that I had a problem on my hands. My great big gen masterpiece was finished, but this author had gotten me hooked on something else, something with a nefarious reputation online: shipping.

The term du jour for this seems to be “brain worms” so let’s just say that reading other fanworks had given me some brain worms. Inspired this time not just by the source material of the game, but now the fan community itself, my mind began to develop another idea.

I wrote the fic, about 11k, in a single afternoon of frantic writing. When I finished it, I knew it was one of my strongest pieces. It had just come together, a combination of all the thought that I’d been brewing up and a stylistic execution that just worked with the story I wanted to tell.

I posted it on a new account. Shipping seemed vaguely shameful to me still and my mom reads the other account.

To my surprise, the fic blew up. It got so much more attention than my long fic ever had. Even more significantly, a fan artist actually drew a gorgeous comic of the pivotal scene, completely out of the blue! I was essentially thunderstruck. Honestly, it was probably the first time in my life that I’d ever received so much positive reinforcement from a piece of writing.

While I’d written short stories for undergrad workshops, they’d never been particularly good and I’d never gotten particularly great feedback on them. I’d applied and been rejected by more MFAs and literary magazines than I could count. I’d pretty much resigned myself to writing for an audience of me and me alone (which I don’t mean to sound tragic about, writing for you is great and fun!)

But receiving so much support and praise and feeling like I’d made other people happy or sad or moved? There’s nothing better.

This makes my decision to write another fic for the ship sound vaguely cynical, the action of a person driven by an addiction to praise. I mean, no lie, aren’t we all a little addicted to approval?

But my next fic was another long one, an 80k passion project modern AU that I dreamed up while spending a slow summer alone with my books and only able to leave the house for long rambling walks in the woods. The premise was essentially about characters attending a five year college reunion, something that I myself had missed due to COVID in May of the same year. The fic quickly became a way for me to process thoughts on a lot of topics in my life ranging from relationships to politics to mental health to classical literature.

This fic was also received with far more attention than I was used to and, as a result, I finally joined the notorious Twitter dot com where I found people talking about my fic unprompted, eager to follow me and like my every random thought.

I can’t say that this process was not without its ups and downs. Fandom has changed, in many ways for the better, since my last engagement with it during the 2013 Supernatural days on Tumblr. While fan friendships are often idealized or demonized, they are pretty much like any other human friendship (okay, maybe a little bit more horny on main). There is potential for amazing connection as well as pettiness. But in a year where many people suddenly had no social spaces that were safe anymore, I’m glad that I found a new line of communication with the world.

So I kept writing fics for the ship, producing a lot of work that I am genuinely proud of and making connections with other people who enjoyed it enough to leave a comment.

To conclude this section, I was in fandom again. While I had not seriously engaged with a fan community since around 2014, I was back with a vengeance. And I had discovered an important truth about what unlocked my ability to write more than I ever had before: community support.

Not simply the kudos and the views. It was the comments. The discourse. The discussion. To add and contribute my thoughts and ideas to a greater network of thoughts and ideas that fed off of one another.

Often I had seen people complain about there not being enough fanworks for particular media or characters. Now I knew the secret. The comments and the community created the works. If I commented on other people’s fics, the more likely they were to write more. I made a resolution I have tried to keep, to comment on any story that I legitimately enjoyed reading, even if I had no particularly intelligent thing to say about it.

Part 3: A Novel Idea

By late October, I had produced a considering oeuvre for my ship of choice and was enjoying slowing my pace as I planned a few future projects.

Remember, though, how I mentioned not having engaged with fandom for the past 5 years? Well, that didn’t mean I hadn’t been writing.

For the past 4 years, I have won NaNoWriMo and completed 4 novels of over 100k each in length. These projects have been massively fun and improved my confidence with executing stories at the scope that I desire.

And so in November 2020, I settled down to write another novel. November is always a sort of terrible time write a novel if you work in academia, but this year, I had more time than usual. I set out to write a comedy fantasy novel, something mostly lighthearted and full of hijinks in order to pretend away some of the quarantine blues (which by this point were well established in my psyche).

This year in particular, I was reminded that writing a novel is… harder than fanfic. That seems like a very obvious point, but I’d written novels before. Suddenly, though, I was realizing how much a novel requires you to set up the world and the characters, while fanfic can be pretty much all payoff all the time.

While the fanfic flowed in wild creative bursts of energy, the novel required diligence of another sort. I wrote 2,000 words every day for two months. It was a grind. Sometimes, it was a slog.

And sometimes it just wasn't good. The thing about writing your own novels is that the first draft is way more likely to be not good. You’re balancing a lot and it’s easy to let a few balls that you have in the air drop for a chapter or two, with no recourse but to go back and edit later.

I finished the novel by writing a final speedrun of 6k on new years eve, ending my 2020 with another project under my belt. No one has read it. Not even I have reread it.

I’m still glad that I wrote it. I’ll write another one next year. No one will read that one either.

Sometimes, we write for ourselves and no external validation is necessary.

Part 4: Where are they now?

January of 2021 is somehow now behind me, which is terrifying. I’m still writing. Mostly fanfic, although occasionally I go doodle around with some original ideas that are more conceptual sketches for the next novel.

As for the fanfic, I think I still have a few more good ideas left in me, but I will probably leave it behind before the year is out. That feels a little bittersweet, a sort of temporary burst of fun and friendship that I wonder if I’ll ever experience again.

Coming to the end of this reflection, I suppose I should make a summative statement about what it all means.

In the end, it might not mean a lot. There are some small takeaways.

It turns out that encouragement makes you write more! Who knew? Also, more free time makes you write more! Wow!!!!

The point that I think this reflection exercise has shown me, the point that I think matters more than any other, is that writing is a way to process my thoughts. Even if it is through the lens of ridiculous video game fanfic or novels about sad wizards, my writing is my way to make sense of my own mind.

And sharing that is special. If you share it with online strangers, with your family on Christmas Eve, with your close friend who has become even closer and dearer to you since she let you read her work, or just with your mom (the one personal legally required to read your damn novel if you want to share it). To share writing is to give someone a little peek at your beliefs about the world.

And right now? When we’re still isolated and bored and scared and in desperate need of distraction? Binge some TV, play Nintendo, read a book. Take in other people’s thoughts.

But put down your own somewhere as well. It’s a conversation.

And for once, it’s a conversation that doesn’t have to take place on fucking Zoom.

#writing #personal rambling #fanfiction

5 notes · View notes

ramblings-of-a-mad-cat · 4 years

Note

I don't want Percy to be MC's friend. He's a complete jerk who only cares about himself more than his friends, parents and siblings but at least, he learned his mistake in the last Harry Potter movie. Watch the video called "The Entire Life of Percy Weasley (Harry Potter Explained)"

I can’t say that I agree, anon, though I can understand finding Percy obnoxious, especially in this game. His personality can definitely rub people the wrong way. However, having just watched the video, I have to say that I think it’s very one-sided. I’ll try and go through everything that it talks about - under the cut because I have no filter.

Fred and George

To say that he didn’t like his brothers Fred and George, and that he wanted to control them, isn’t really accurate and it doesn’t acknowledge that whenever Fred and George were mentioned in conjunction with Percy, they were usually bullying him. Vandalizing his Head Boy badge, even though he was proud of having gotten the position and it meant a lot to him. Or the time that they literally sent him dragon dung. Or the time that they tried to leave him for dead in a Pyramid tomb. And it was played for laughs. I’m not condemning Fred and George because they were the human embodiment of the chaos alignment, so it makes sense that they would butt heads with Percy. Brothers pick on each other, I know it happens. But it’s not fair to act like Percy feeling distant from his other siblings was his own fault. Fred and George were really popular with the Weasleys and other kids. Percy, by comparison, was just tolerated. Even though he was the model student and the one who followed rules, and the twins were constantly causing trouble. Why should Percy be ashamed of doing what he’s supposed to do? Why shouldn’t he want attention and validation from his family? Maybe the reason he talked constantly about his accomplishments was because he wanted to be appreciated.

The other Weasleys

Most of the moments where he doesn’t get along with his family in the early books are not moments that Percy himself initiates. It’s primarily Ron, Ginny, or the Twins picking on him. He didn’t even feel like he could tell his family he was dating someone because he guessed (correctly) that they would bully him for it. Speaking of that, Ginny promised she would keep Percy’s secret, and then turned around and told basically everyone.

Despite all this, Percy very clearly cared about his family, well before Deathly Hallows. Like the time he boasted about Ron helping to win the House Cup. The time he tried to comfort Ginny, believing she was upset about Ron. The time he scolded Ron over this and warned him to stop going near the site of the Basilisk attacks because of how it would look. Or the time he watched out for Harry because Mrs. Weasley asked him to, “like an extremely pompous guard dog” as the video says. (Like I said, very one-sided.) Or the time that he refused to let go of Ron after Ron was used as a hostage in the Second Task. The video also attributes the end of Percy’s relationship with Penelope to him working too much in GOF...but there’s literally nothing in the books that ever suggests that.

The Triwizard Tournament

Like Bill, Percy is show constantly shown to be a good leader. He was named Prefect and Head Boy and he utterly embraced the positions. But the video mostly focuses on how proud he was of having gotten these positions and now enough on how he got them...because he earned them. In the same breath as talking about how he would apparate in the house every morning just to prove he could the video also talks about how Crouch barely gave Percy the time of day. Couldn’t be bothered to remember his name and just gave him pointless tasks. Despite how excited Percy was and how eagerly he would talk about all this to the rest of his family, who found it boring and avoided the topic. Percy is all alone in GOF. Even more so than he has been before. It’s really no wonder that he poured himself into his work and looked to the Ministry for support and validation, because he wasn’t getting any at home. He was just being belittled and humiliated at every turn. Of course, once Crouch was imperius’d, Percy thought he was finally getting recognition, but he was just being used. He was being set up as the fall guy. Even the villains are indirectly dismissive of this character!

Because Crouch was out of commission, Percy was having to deal with all his work. So to say that he valued laws and rules over his own family is not only cruel, it’s completely wrong. Percy is resentful of them because to him, it feels like their actions are creating more stress for him at work and ruining that environment for him too. Ruining his dreams. The Ministry (and the video) blames Percy for not figuring out that something was off about Crouch, but it was still the same hand-writing, so why would Percy question it?

The Estrangement

His supposed reprieve came when Fudge hired him as a Personal Assistant. Percy was excited and came home, hoping his Dad would be proud of him. But like always, Percy was disappointed. Arthur was right in his suspicions about why Fudge hired Percy, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that Percy heard “You aren’t good enough to have gotten this job.” He heard Arthur refuse to believe that he might have actually earned this. That he was succeeding. “No Percy, this job isn’t real. The one person who’s actually valued you in recent memory is just manipulating you and it’s totally our fault for siding with Dumbledore, but I won’t admit to that.” That’s how it felt. And yeah, it was one time too many. The Weasleys have never conveyed to Percy that they appreciate him or want him around, so why should he want to stick around? Why didn’t anyone step in sooner, or come to his defense when he was taking the fall for Crouch? Why is it only when their agenda is threatened that they say something? And Percy is the selfish one? Why should he believe Voldemort has returned? I agree that what he said to Arthur about Arthur’s reputation and their family was horrible...but I think Percy-Antis view this as totally without cause. And the cause is clear.

I take issue with how the video describes Percy slamming the door in Molly’s face “without even giving her a chance.” Because that scene was never depicted. We don’t know what happened or what was said. We don’t know how long the conversation may have lasted. But y’know, if I was Percy, I don’t think I’d even answer the door. He’s made his choice - cut ties with his family. To Molly’s credit, she was one of the only Weasleys who praised his accomplishments...but neither she nor Arthur ever did anything about the constant, constant bullying. That might be pretty hard to forgive, and Percy never receives any apology for it. He’s the only one who apologies in the end.

The letter that Percy sends Ron seems pretty terrible until you look at it from from the perspective that he’s genuinely trying to protect his little brother. Which he has always done in his own way. It’s an olive branch. Look, the word on the street is that Harry Potter is constantly lying and potentially dangerous. Percy might very well have made the judgment call that his family was blinded by their loyalty to him. It’s not like Percy and Harry were ever close. Think about it. After befriending Harry, Ron consistently got involved in dangerous adventures like confronting acromantulas, dementors, devil’s snare, the list goes on. It’s not unreasonable at all that Percy might want Harry to stay away from Ron. I’ll agree that giving Umbridge an endorsement is jaw-dropping...but we don’t see them interact. Umbridge might have put on a completely different face around Percy. Or he might have simply trusted Fudge and repeated his words. We just don’t know.

Fudge’s Departure

Dumbledore said that it’s harder to forgive someone for being right, then it is for being wrong. I’m not going to go off on a Dumbledore-bashing tirade right now, because that’s hardly the point - but while that is very wise advice in general...it completely misses the real point of why Percy left. It doesn’t matter if Dumbledore was right and Fudge was wrong. (Though Percy no doubt felt horrible and humiliated yet again when he realized that.) What matters is that Percy’s family pushed him away and made him feel so isolated that Fudge valuing him was the only good thing going on in his life. Percy leaving doesn’t make him an asshole. But it does say a lot, not about him, that he decided Fudge’s approval and his job at the Ministry were worth moving out and cutting off all contact with his family. Dumbledore's assessment of Percy’s feelings once again ignores any responsibility that his family has in why he left in the first place.I genuinely do love the Weasleys to no end (just look at my URL) but their relationship to Percy was toxic.

Scrimgeour, like Fudge, used Percy to get to the Weasleys, and forced him to pretend that he wanted to see them when he didn’t. Try to imagine being in that position, especially when Molly was the only one who even acted happy to see him. Fred, George and Ginny threw food at him. Literally why would Percy ever want to see them again if this was the welcome that he got? It was already painful for him and they did not make it any easier. Sure, I know that it was probably painful for them too, but they were once again not even considering Percy’s feelings, just their own.

The Battle of Hogwarts

I’ve already talked about how Percy apologies for everything, and the other Weasleys apologize for nothing. Not gonna lie, this is realistic to an uncomfortable level. Family members who have been mistreated wind up being the ones to apologize because they miss their family, even though they often aren’t completely to blame. But this is probably never going to be addressed because immediately after the reconciliation, Fred died. Just imagine how much undeserved guilt Percy felt about that. And then look to the epilogue where there’s one final humorous moment about Harry seeing Percy at King’s Cross and making a mental note to avoid him. Literally nothing has changed. Percy is still the joke of the family. He’s just accepted it because without them, he’s alone. He’s learned to see himself as the problem, and not them.

...I am such a nerd. But I hope you can see where I’m coming from as well. Again, I love The Weasleys. I adore Fred and George. But Percy is not, and was never a bad guy. In some ways, he’s my favorite Weasley. I do love his character arc. But...I just...I wish there had been some apology from the twins as well.

#Percy Weasley #Percy Weasley Defense Squad #Harry Potter #Weasley Twins

50 notes · View notes

quicksilverlightning · 4 years

Text

The All Might Fan Forum Discussion Board, Part Two

ALL MIGHT FAN FORUM General Discussion All Might Battles Meeting All Might Rescued by All Might All Might Encounters >Small Might Encounters (New!) Fanart and Fanfiction

Gone4-a-Jog

Small Might Sensei

I like to go jogging. I started recently and I’m not very good at it – I can’t run very fast or very long. But I like taking different routes and discovering new places when I stop to catch my breath. It was during one of my longer runs that I bumped into All Might.

I’d heard someone behind me a few minutes before I stopped to put my hands on my knees and try to gulp down as much air as possible, but didn’t hear that he stopped when I did so I jumped and nearly fell on my ass when I got upright, then nearly fell again when I saw who it was and this long sentence doesn’t begin to cover the comedy of errors that was my life in these few moments.

He stopped cause I was running wrong. Sidenote: there’s a such thing as running wrong. Apparently, you want to land in the middle of your foot and try not to land on your heel at all cause that can cause problems. He also taught me a few breathing rhythms for different intensities of runs.

He ran with me for about twenty minutes, correcting my bad posture and seriously I know every post on this forum says it, but All Might is super, super nice. Like, you’d think he’d have at least a little ego or something, but he doesn’t. He just wants to help everyone. He said hello to everyone we passed and doubled back to throw away a bottle someone dropped. He’d so nice you guys.

I’ve been using what he taught me for a few days now, and haven’t gotten a stitch in my side once. It’s so much easier to run now. Thanks Sensei!

Pepper-oni

Seatmates!

Small Might sat next to me on the bus. Pretty sure he could have had any seat he wanted no matter how crowded it was, but he was really polite and kinda awkward about asking if he could sit with me. Meanwhile, I’m internally screaming while trying to keep it cool on the outside.

He was texting someone on his phone – I tried not to stare, but it’s All Might, you know? I didn’t catch much, just that he was proud of someone, which, hello, is so frickking cute. He looked happy.

m0toroildrmz

A brief conversation with my mother:

“Mom, do you know who that was?”

“No?”

“That was All Might! All Might, mom!”

I leave my mom alone for five seconds to use the bathroom, and I come back to ALL MIGHT helping her with her English crossword puzzles. She didn’t even get an autograph for me.

oba-san581

the beach

I don’t know why it took so very long for it to click – after his last battle, I couldn't shake the feeling that I’d seen that tall, skinny man somewhere before. And he is such a distinctive gentleman; I was sure I knew him, somehow. It wasn’t until I met him on the beach that it finally fell into place.

I’m retired these days, so I have a lot of time on my hands. Every day, I take a walk from my home to the library and back. Sometimes I stay a few minutes, sometimes the entire day gets away from me. For months, almost every day without fail, there was a man and a boy cleaning the shoreline near my home. They would be there when I left for the day, and were still there when I came back. The boy was a scrappy, freckled little thing, cute as a button. The man was slender, but undeniably strong – he would step in to help with some of the bigger appliances, but mostly directed the boy and cheered him on.

I stopped to speak to them a few times; the boy was such a polite young man, and All Might was genial and humble. I never would have known. I could never have guessed had I not met him again, returning from the library with a book to enjoy near the waves.

It’s strange; heroes are so flashy these days, hustle and bustle and fight and move. And we appreciate them, need them. But there’s something so very special about the little things. All Might personally spent almost a year helping clean up a beach. Would anyone else in the top ten have done that?

He was every bit as kind as I remembered. He doesn’t accept praise very well, insisted the beach was all the boy’s doing. Which is fair enough I suppose – he did most of the heavy lifting. Even so, that man was out there almost every single day, with lunch and water and cheer and kind words. It warmed my heart, watching the two of them progress across the sand. I’m so glad All Might is a teacher now; those kids are in good hands.

spite-and-aesthetic

again with the cats

small might plucked my cat out of a tree AGAIN – same cat same tree he even fucking remembered me is this guy for real?

MKPlusUltra

All Might does not skip Leg Day

So I’m minding my own business, checking messages on my phone, waiting on my drink order, when there’s some commotion across the street – lotta loud noise, people screaming and running, standard-issue villain-tries-to-rob-the-till-at-the-combini sort of afternoon. It’s a tall guy with, like, I guess it’s a stretch Quirk off some kind? He looks like he walked out of some old-timey cartoon, all wiggly limbs bouncing everywhere, running from what looks like some rookie Pro – I don’t even think they were a rookie yet; maybe an intern? Anyway, Noodle Arms is booking it, Intern is after him as fast as his short legs can manage. Leggy clears the street in one jump and starts twisting his head around like he can’t decide where to go next.

It’s at that moment when All Might himself exits the building next to mine, one hand leaving his pocket to check his watch and Noodle makes a decision.

Now look, I’m gonna break this down into slo-mo for ya, cause seriously, it was a thing of beauty. It was one, smooth, impossibly cool-looking move, and every piece of it needs to be appreciated. This DUMBASS, who clearly had no plan whatsoever beyond “grab a hostage,” honestly thinks he can take on ALL MIGHT, I guess cause he’s skinny now or something. He wraps his stupid noodle limbs around him and All Might doesn’t even twitch when Dumbass constricts his arms and waves a gun around. Dumbass is yelling something, I don’t know what, who tf cares. All Might kinda tilts his head, wriggles his shoulders a bit, then lifts his arms up and slides out of the jacket so fast the fabric doesn’t even lose its shape. I’m not even kidding, it looked like it was on an invisible mannequin, this move came straight from the Acme school of How To Defy Physics. Dumbass has just enough time to look shocked before he’s eating a size 13 leather shoe – All Might dropped to his haunches, made a quarter-turn, and kicked his leg up and back, straight into the jaw of Dumbass. He kicks him so hard his feet actually lift off the ground and he flies backwards into a streetlamp.

All Might doesn’t even look angry; he just looks Annoyed, like someone forgot to put sugar in his coffee. He picks up his jacket and slings it over a shoulder and waits around a few minutes for the police to catch up and haul Noodle McDumbass into custody while Short Intern babbles away with stars in his eyes. It was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

AM_FAN0112

HE’S BACK

HE HASN’T BEEN TO THE SHOP IN THREE MONTHS TOSHINORI YOU USELESS SUNFLOWER I WAS WORRIED ABOUT YOU. I LEFT SO MANY TEARS ON HIS JACKET

YOU FUCKING SWEETHEART. YOU ABSOLUTE RAY OF LITERAL SUNSHINE. I WILL SAVE EVERY COPY OF SUGAR SUGAR CAT CAFE FOR YOU I WILL READ EVERY SINGLE DUMBASS ROMANCE MANGA I CAN FIND I WILL WORK IN THIS TINY BOOKSHOP FOR THE REST OF MY STUPID LIFE JUST NEVER SCARE ME LIKE THAT AGAIN YOU AWKWARD JACKRABBIT DON’T EVER LEAVE ME HANGING LIKE THAT AGAIN

I’M SORRY FOR SCREAMING I JUST MISSED HIM SO MUCH HE’S MY FAVORITE CUSTOMER EVEN BEFORE I KNEW HE WAS ALL MIGHT. HE’S AN ADORABLE OLD MAN

RedRibbon

A good man

Perhaps it’s a little unfair for me to comment since I work in the Tower. Still, there are some things I wanted to share with the world and this is a good place to do it.

I’ve been at the agency for three years now, mainly doing secretarial work. My direct superior is a man named Yagi-san. Yagi-san acted as All Might’s personal assistant, right hand man, concierge, whatever you want to call it. Telling something to Yagi-san was as good as telling it to All Might directly. I, along with everyone else in the Tower, learned why that night in Kamino.

I’ve read many, many posts on these discussion boards and if I were to identify a unifying theme that everyone seems to mention, it’s that All Might is a nice guy. That he really, honestly cares. That he worries about the little things just as much as the big things. I’ve worked with Yagi-san for three years and can confirm that none of it is a show for the adoring public – it’s all 100% true.

Let me tell you something, I worked with Miruko’s agency before All Might’s, and Wash before that, but unless the two of them also have secret identities, neither one of them was on the ground floor pushing pencils with the rest of us like All Might was. I’ve seen Yagi-san escorting new hires around the building when they get lost. I’ve seen him roll up his sleeves and change a busted printer cartridge, ink all over his shirt. He knows everyone’s birthday. He’ll do coffee runs, answer the phones, make deliveries, grab lunch, whatever you need. I’ve seen him as All Might, shutting the press down when they start getting pushy with the employees, or dropping by the daycare and making the kids light up.

I’ve never seen him complain. I’ve never seen him brush anyone off. I’ve never seen him be rude, or arrogant, or insulting, or aloof. I’ve never seen him treat anyone as lesser, as if they weren’t worth his time. Yagi-san lifted morale just by being in the building, the way All Might cut crime rates just by existing. Everyone in the agency loved Yagi-san just as much as they loved the hero; everyone had a story about All Might, and another one about Yagi-san. I’ve seen a few of those stories on this very board.

But this one is mine:

Ever since high school, I’ve used a ribbon to keep the hair out of my face. I love my curls, but they can be a nuisance waving around at the edge of my vision, so I keep them pulled back. I like using ribbons because scrunchies often get caught in my un-tameable mess of hair.

My ribbon snapped one day at work. It wasn’t a big deal – just a minor annoyance to have to keep pushing my hair back. But Yagi-san noticed. He noticed without anyone saying anything, and came back from lunch thirty minutes later with a beautiful red ribbon that he tied into my hair.

It really is the little things that matter the most. This tiny little gesture made me feel seen, acknowledged, valued. Not just as an employee, but as a person. All Might cares about those kinds of things – his employees aren’t subordinates, they’re people. He doesn’t rescue victims, he recuses people. He doesn’t pull you up to his level; he gets on yours and puts you on his shoulders.

I’ve worn that ribbon nearly every day for two years. It’s gotten thin in places, kinda frayed at the edges, but still doing its job faithfully. A bit little like the man who gave it to me.

#yagi toshinori #All Might #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #fanfic #bnha fanfiction #small might #social media fic #pov outsider #I love writing fics like this #number one in our hearts #loosely connected to An Unofficial Statement from Might Tower #AM_FAN0112 is me

156 notes · View notes

dailyaudiobible · 3 years

Text

02/15/2021 DAB Transcript

Exodus 39:1-40:38, Mark 1:1-28, Psalms 35:1-16, Proverbs 9:11-12

Today is the 15th day of February welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I am Brian it is a joy and privilege to be here with you today as we put...put our foot out and take the next step forward into the week, into the month, into the year, and into the Bible. So, we will be concluding the book of Exodus today so this will be our final reading in the book of Exodus for this year. We concluded the first of the Gospels, which was the gospel of Matthew yesterday. So, when we get to the New Testament today, we will be encountering our…well…our first change of pace in the New Testament, but we are still in the section of the New Testament known as the Gospels. And we will be beginning the gospel of Mark in a little bit. But we'll talk about that when we get there. First, Exodus chapters 39 and 40 and we’re reading from the Common English Bible this week.

Introduction to the gospel of Mark:

Okay. This brings us to the second gospel in the Bible, although it is probably the first gospel written in time. This is the gospel of Mark. And the Mark that we believe wrote the gospel of Mark was not a disciple of Jesus. He wasn’t one of the 12. He wasn't an apostle, like the apostle Paul either. Really, he would been more a disciple of the apostle Peter. So, we seem to see Mark show up in the book of Acts which obviously we haven’t gotten to yet. But there he's known as John Mark. And he lived in Jerusalem. He came from a seemingly wealthy family. They owned a home in Jerusalem. His mom's name was Mary, and…and she had a servant named Rhoda. Mary was one of the early believers and she opened her home to other early believers. And some of our church traditions...there are…there’s thinking that her home may have been the place that contained the upper room. Like, she had an upstairs to her home where there wasn't upper room where the Holy Spirit was poured out on the early believers after the ascension of Jesus, but also where Jesus had his last supper. So, Mark was around all this pretty much his whole life, even as a boy. So, as the story goes, Peter was captured by Herod and we’ll resist the story when we get a little bit deeper into the New Testament. And Herod planned to execute Peter because he had put other Christians to death and had seemed to please the people. And, so, he was, you know Peter was a ringleader. And, so, he’s planning to put Peter to death. So, he's in prison. But an angel comes and frees Peter from jail and it's to John Mark's house, right, to Mary's large home that Peter first came. And all the believers were there at that house praying for Peter's freedom for his life, pleading to God for his life. And that prayer was answered. And, so, Peter’s sprung from jail and he comes to the house, he knocks on the door, the servant girl Rhoda comes to the door and she sees him and it’s like she can’t believe it’s him. So, she slams the door in his face, and then she goes in and let’s all the other believers know, “like, apparently Peter's outside.” And we’ll get to that story, we’ll like…we’ll give it its due when we actually come to it, but this gives us a little bit of a background just a little essence of who Mark is. And, so, Mark's been around the gospel of Jesus Christ his whole life. His cousins name is Barnabas, who is a dear friend of the apostle Paul. It's Mark the goes with Barnabas and Paul on Paul's first missionary journey. So, this isn’t like somebody who doesn't know what's going on. This is somebody with a bit of a pedigree, and it's believed through the traditions of the church that…that…that John Mark became a disciple of the apostle Peter, travelled all over with him, and even serves as an interpreter for him in Italy, especially in Rome. And everywhere that Peter goes, and we’ll see this after the Holy Spirit's coming, this transforms Peter so radically that he becomes a very powerful teacher of the gospel and he teaches the gospel of Jesus everywhere he goes. And, so, John Mark's heard Peter's testimony over and over everywhere they go. And, so, it's basically thought that what Mark writes down in the gospel of Mark is largely the testimony of the apostle Peter, the things that the apostle Peter was teaching about Jesus while he traveled around. It's also believed and there's a like pretty strong consensus that…that Mark is indeed the first of the Gospels written that we have in the New Testament and that Mark and Matthew, the gospel that we just read, and then Luke, the one that we will read next after Mark, like that's not confusing enough, that these three really share a lot of commonality. In fact, they’re known as the synoptic Gospels because they share so much of the same material. And it’s believed that Mark is the original, the very first written testimony of the life of Jesus Christ. And, you know, language scholars will look at the Greek in the book of Mark and, you know, consider it pretty primitive, not…it’s not particularly grammatically correct it…it…it…seems as if maybe more written by like somebody whose mother tongue isn’t Greek or that it is poorly educated, can barely write. It’s more like, you know, like a school kid’s grammar. But there’s a charm in the simplicity. And, so, let's dive in to the second of the four Gospels that we will encounter in the New Testament, the gospel of Mark chapter 1 verse 1 through verse 28.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word. We thank You for these days that we’re in right now, that we’re transitioning into new territory in both Old and new Testaments. We began the gospel of Mark today and Holy Spirit come. We feel like we've heard these stories maybe our whole lives. Let us hear them as if we've never heard them before, let us hear them fresh, let us understand like we’re gonna move through the four Gospels and this is our time to walk alongside Jesus to learn. And, so, Holy Spirit, quicken us. Make us awake and aware of what You are leading us to understand as we continue forward in the gospel of Mark. And we concluded the…the book of Exodus today, a very dramatic story of the end of slavery and the story beginning in the wilderness where identities are being shifted and complete new culture is being created there in the wilderness. And, so, as we prepare to move forward into the book of Leviticus tomorrow, we invite Your Holy Spirit. Again, draw us to what we need to know. Draw us to what we need to see and understand. Give us eyes to see and ears to hear, that we…that we may become fully awake and fully aware in this year of going through the Bible, so that we end this year and can never look at anything the same again because we’ve been transformed. Come Holy Spirit we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com his home base, it’s the website, it’s where you find out what's going on around here like I say every day. I must have said this 5000 times now, but welcome to everybody who’s never heard me say that before because every day…every day we get to say hi to somebody that's never been here. And, so, this is where we get to go deeper.

Check out the Community section, that’s how to get connected. That's where the Prayer Wall lives.

Check out the resources that are available in the Daily Audio Bible Shop that are built to be companions for the journey that we are on through the Scriptures this year.

And as always, if…if you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, if the mission that we share in common that we call the Global Campfire, the mission to bring the spoken word of God read fresh every day and offered to anyone, anywhere, anytime freely and to build community around the rhythm of just moving step-by-step day by day through the Scriptures in a year, if that has brought life to you than thank you for your partnership. So, there's a link on the homepage. If you’re using the app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner, or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And also, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement you can hit the Hotline button in the app, which is the little red button up at the top or there are a number of numbers you can use. In the United States, in the Americas for that matter, 87-942-4253 is the number. If you are in the UK or Europe 44-20-3608-8078. And if you are in Australia or the lands down under, in that part of the world, 61-3-8820-5459 is the number to call.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Good morning Daily Audio Bible this is Sharon in Southern California I just heard the prayer request from I think she said her name was Latasha, she's a young mom with children and she's having housing issues. I just wanted to say Psalms 27:14 says wait on the Lord, be of good courage and he shall strengthen thine heart. Wait I say on the Lord. The Lord is with you always and He will grant you the answer to your prayers. Stay steadfast and wait for him to answer. I know I've been through the same situation, not knowing which way to turn. Don't let anyone force you or manipulate you into a decision you don't want to make. I know it's not easy and it's…it's difficult to wait because you see pressure on every side, but I promise you the Lord will answer, and He will guide you. I'm praying for you in your situation and I'm sure a lot of us here on the DAB are also praying for you knowing that the Lord will answer your prayer. Lord, in the name of Jesus I pray that her situation is fixed and done just as You want it to be and let Your will be done in her life and in her situation. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.

Hello family this is your brother Chad from Jomo and I was calling today February 11th is the Bible reading and brother Brian was just…said something pretty profound and yet oddly so simple. That's his normal way. I love it. But he was saying we can take what we're reading today, let it go in one ear out the other and then go back into the chaos of the day or and / or…or we can take what we read today and…and let it bring us peace, let it bring…bring us answers, let it bring us another way to deal with this crazy life that's going on around us right now. Just…just it's all about growing. I'll take the “or” Brian. I'm so sick and tired of taking the “and” man. I'm doing __ . I'm…I'm…not one that lets the word go in one ear out the other, but I do have a tendency of letting the world wash over me and silence the wonderful word I've taken in for the day. It's like by the end of the day it’s like I forgot what I've learned at the beginning of the day in God's word. And I find that to be a great shame, that there's just so much going on that…that's taking our attention away, that’s sidetracking us. or just beating us down. And we need to stay focused on the Lord family. He is our guide. He can handle it man. He's got the broad shoulders man. We, I need to learn to stop trying to take it on myself. I…I never mean too. I always mean to leave it in God's hands and yet I found myself carrying this stuff around that I don't need to be carrying this extra luggage. So, family give it to the Lord today. He can do all things in Jesus’ name. I love you family. My time is up. Have a blessed week. Brother Chad from Jomo.

Hi guys it's Luke from Australia, first-time caller. I've only been listening to DAB four since the beginning of the year listening to the daily devotional and I can say I am loving it, OK. It is awesome to just be able to listen to the Bible and…and how Brian reads it, explains it, prays. It’s just awesome and I'm sure we all notice that. I just felt honored to touched to call in and let you guys know that it is an honor to be part of a family such as DAB family, the community and…and the love and support that is on here is just awesome. My mom introduced me to DAB beginning of this year, end of last year. And I can't get enough of it. So, thank you mum. And yeah, keeping all of you in my prayers. And let's have a good year this year. Alright. Love you all. Bye.

Hey family, Darrell calling from Atlanta and I do not use word family lightly at all. I absolutely celebrate the fact that we're all brothers and sisters, we’re God's family. and I know that sometimes that can be cliché-ish if that's a word, but it's not. It's the truth. We read God’s word, Brian reads it to us every day, which Brian I love you man. I'm going on my third year and I can't possibly thank you enough, this is a phenomenal thing you're doing here. But God's word tells us all over the place that we're family, we’re His kids and you are my brothers and you're my sisters and I greatly appreciate you coming on here every day. And I I've called in I think one time before for prayer. I've called in several times just to encourage but today I'm absolutely asking for prayer. There is a cousin's fiancé who very recently was battling what they thought was Covid. He is a young healthy man of 25. Again, he's a cousin’s…cousin of mine, his…her fiancé. His name is Davy. I am asking you today is a critical day. This is a critical time for him. Please pray. They've ruled out Covid. They've tested him three times and yet his lungs are filling up with fluid. He has double pneumonia in they don't know what's going on. Critical prayers today. It's getting very serious. Again 25 years old, healthy otherwise Davvy. Please pray that God would remove the fluid in his lungs, replace it with the air, and restore him to the way God created his body to be and to function and that God would direct the doctors and open their eyes. Thank you so much, guys.

Hi, I'm just…my name is Rebecca from Canada I'm just sending in a prayer for Latasha from California. I just felt like the Lord wanted me to…to pray for community over you. So, yeah Lord we just thank you so much that that she called in and gave her situation about the housing and the frustration that that's been. So, Lord we just pray for wisdom Lord, that You would just direct her in the right path, that she would know what she needs to do and yeah Lord that You would have favor with the management, that there would just be breakthrough in this area. And Lord we also just pray that You would just surround her with good community so that she would know that she's not alone, Father that she would have just new friends, Father that would just come around her and encourage her and support her and her family. And we thank You Lord that You see herm and You see what's going on and Lord that You’re a God of provision. So, we just ask for provision in this area Lord, that she would know that her and her family are taking care of and cared for by You Lord and that she knows she's not alone and that we care for her here at the Daily Audio Bible and all across the world we're praying for her. Thanks.

Good afternoon Daily Audio Bible this is Tracy Baker calling auto Fort Worth TX calling to applaud Janelle in China. I heard your…your call in this morning and it really touched me because we take for granted when we don't have and aren’t truly thankful for what we do have. Me for one, my job is very stressful. I'm expected to do a whole lot that is not actually in my field and its stuff that I really don't care to do and with no formal training as well. So, I'm muddling through it as best as I can, but it is so so stressful to be doing something that I'm not really wanting to do though and paid very well for it. But, you know, money isn't everything. So, again you know, and like Janelle says I'm very thankful that I do have a job as…as…as it were. So, thank you very much Janelle for giving me that reminder to be thankful for what we do have. Have a great day.

3 notes · View notes

xmalereader · 4 years

Text

Newt Scamander X Male Reader

|| Masterlist ||

Summary: Reader is a muggle that saves and befriends a thunderbird. Later that thunderbird does the same.

Warnings: fluff, language, MxM, muggle, wizard.

It was storming outside as y/n tried to rush back home from work, it’s been a week since it’s been raining and he was slowly starting to hate it. Don’t get him wrong, he opens the rain but this past week it’s been storming with strong weather and it just didn’t want to stop.

Reaching the large apartment building he stumbled inside and breaths heavily as he removed his hat and hangs it up. “Ah, Mr. L/n! I seen that the rain has gotten you again.” His landlord lady says as she came out from her room.

Y/n chuckled with a small smile on his lips. “It’s not the first time.” He tells her as he removed his coat and hangs it up as well. “Did I get any mail?” He asks, walking Over to her, still covered in water. His landlord rolled her eyes, “You a few letters from family and your rent.” Y/n takes the envelopes and chuckled,

“I’ll get you your money by the end of the week.” He tells her as he heads upstairs and bids her a Goodnight. Heading up stairs to his own room, unlocking it He steps inside and tossed his mail on the coffee table. He’s been getting letters from his family and he’s been ignoring them. Ever since he’s told them about his dreams and drawings of him seeing weird like creatures, they all thought of him crazy!

He kept his artwork hidden from everyone that he knew, Including friends. He didn’t want people telling him that he was crazy about seeing such creatures that aren’t real. So, he decided to remain everything hidden and pretend like everything is normal in this world.

Stripping off his clothes he sets them down by the fire and heads to the bathroom to take a warm shower to keep himself from getting a cold. He lets the warm water trail down his body as he leans against the wall, lying his forehead on the wall as he thinks. He’s been working harder now and days, trying to keep himself busy and to forget about his dreams but each night was the same. He would wake up in a sweat and go straight to his desk to draw out what he dreamed about, it was mostly about mythical creatures.

Finishing up his shower he heads out and grabs some clothes, changing into them after he dried off, he kept the towel around his neck as he walks around the apartment. Making himself something to eat and some tea. “Let’s see what’s new...” he whispered to hisemlf as he held his drawing book and a pencil in hand, sitting down on the couch. Opening up the notebook, he flips through the many pages of different creatures that he’s dreamed of. Last night he had another one, it was about a small like leaf creature, it had a set of root arms and legs that would form out a small body. He began to sketch it out, getting every detail that he could Rememeber.

It didn’t take long for him to finish up, finishing his masterpiece he smiled at himself. “Good job.” He praised as he closed it up and sets it down, reaching over for his cup of tea he gasps as he noticed how the lights in his apartment shut off and a loud thud was heard above. “The power must’ve gone out.” He stands up and searched for the candles that he stored away close by the window. Finding one he lights it up and looks outside the window to see the other side of the street without light. “Guess it’s not Just us.”

Grabbing a blanket he wraps it around himself to keep himself warm from the cold weather, heading downstairs he sees the other owners out as well. “What happened?” He asks.

“A black out apparently, all of this rain is blocking us out.” The old man that lived just below him says as he huffs and grumbled. Y/n rolled his eyes, “it should be back soon.”

“It’s not just us! Half the city block lights are out as well.” Mrs. Gomez says as she held her blanket close to her body. “Ah, Stop freaking out it’ll come back on.” The landlord says as she crossed her arms. “Just return back to to your rooms and you’ll see that it’ll be back on soon.”

Y/n turns around and heads back up to the top floor where he lives.

“So much for help...” he whispered to himself, passing by the stairway that led up the roof, he was stopped by a Chirp. Loud enough for him to hear it.

Looking up the stairs he glanced over his shoulders to make sure that no one was watching him. Heading up the stairs he reached the main door to the rooftop, slowly opening it he noticed that it was raining softly now. Stepping outside In only his socks (which he regrets) he looks around the roof and sighs. “Must’ve been my imagination.” He turns around to head back inside only to freeze in spot when he sees a giant like bird standing right in front of him.

His breath is caught in between his throat as he tried to say something, but nothing would come out.

The giant bird tilts its head in questioning as it watched y/n carefully. Wondering if this person is a threat or not. Y/n slowly steps back, “Nice Little? Birdy...” he breaths out as he continued to move backwards to avoid the birds attention. Before he could take another step he noticed the bird shift around, trying to walk over to the edge. It spreads its left wing out but it’s Right was tucked away.

Y/n tilts his head as he stared at it. He noticed the way it looked, it looked broken.

The first thing that came to y/n’s Mind was to help this creature. He slowly approached and gets the birds attention, “Hey buddy...listen I’m not gonna yet you, I noticed your broken wing.” He says as he reached out slowly. “Would you mind-?”

The bird flinched and glared down at him trying to move away from the other male. “Shh it’s okay...” he pulls his hand away when he heard the large bird hiss back in anger. Y/n bites his lip as he lets out a sigh of frustration. “Alright I won’t force you.” He tells the golden like bird.

The giant bird tilts its head, slowly it lowers its head down to sniff at y/n’s face. He stayed still in spot as he lets the large bird sniff him out, letting him know that he wasn’t going to hurt him. The large thunderbird moves away, slowly it lied down and slowed y/n to look at his wing.

Y/n smiled weakly as he approached again, he placed his hand on the large wing and gasps. “Whoa, it’s soft.” He cooed out as he quickly examines the broken wing. He lifts it up carefully and nods, “You must’ve hit it against something to get a large mark like that.” He tells the thunderbird and smirks. “I’ll be right back, stay here!” He rushed towards the door. “Stay!” He turns around to see the thunderbird watching him.

Smiling softly he quickly heads inside to grab the things he needs. He just really hopes that this isn’t all a dream, he didn’t want to end up on the roof again only to notice that it was his imagination. Getting to his apartment he quickly grabs the things he needed like: bandages, food, blankets, and maybe some books in Case he got bored.

It didn’t take long for him to return back to the roof only to see the giant thunderbird still sitting there and waiting. “Good to know that it wasn’t my imagination.” He says as he smiled. Walking over he sets everything down, “Alright let me check your wing again.”

The thunderbird chirps and slowly lifts its broken wing up, doing as y/n Said as he let him inspect the broken wing. The older male frowns softly as he sees a few scratch marks under the feathers, his curiosity hits him as he reached up to touch them with a gentle hand and to stroke down the lines. The thunderbird tilts its head in confusion, looking under its wing to see y/n He cooed.

Y/n looks up to face the thunderbird and chuckled. “Sorry, I’ll fix this up quickly.” He grabs some bandages and began to fix up his wing. It was a very large wing but the birds Injuries were small so not much work is needed. It takes y/n awhile to fix up everything before finishing up. “All done.” He allows the giant bird to inspect the wrapping, it tilted its head in different directions. A confused expression was noticeable on the birds features.

“It’ll heal soon, it just takes time...so In the mean time you have to stay up here where it’s safe.” He spoke to the mysterious creature. He didn’t know why he felt so comfortable around such a strange creature, he should be freaking out and telling his neighbors!

But deep down he knows that he shouldn’t be telling anyone about this, he should keep it a secret. Just like how he keeps secrets about everything.

Y/n spent the rest of the night on the roof, he couldn’t really leave the thunderbirds side without causing trouble. He sat down across from the creature, leaving a bit of space. He didn’t want to piss off the bird, I mean he did help the bird but he didn’t know if that meant thag they were in good terms. Y/n was reading one of his books, the book lied on his lap as he scans each sentence as he read.

The thunderbird was watching the human male. He expected the human to immediately expose him to the human world, but instead all he got was patiences and silence.

Before y/n could read the next chapter he caught a glimpse of the sun rise. “Shit!” Standing up quickly he groans. “I can’t believe that I lost track of time! What time is it? Am I gonna be late?” He rushed around the roof collecting his things and hiding them behind pots and inside a shed. Before he could head inside he quickly remembered about the thunderbird. “Um...” he began to think and groans. “Just hide.” He grabs the blanket he had and placed it on top of the thunderbirds head to keep him “hidden”, y/n said a quick goodbye as he heads to his room to get ready.

The thunderbird was able to pull the blanket off its head only to see y/n gone. The giant thunderbird stands up in surprise, where did the human go? He did a quick 360 around him only to see no one. He lied back back down in his spot and chirps softly, waiting for the human to return back.

• • •

“Your late.”

“This is my first time coming late.”

Y/n was panting softly. He ended up running to work after finding out how late he was. Y/n worked as a regular Artist, he would usually work at home with his projects but he liked working at a building with more people to socialize with. His manager stood in front of him with crossed arms, “I don’t care if it’s your first time. You have work that has to be finished by today.”

Y/n rolled his eyes, placing his things on his desk and taking out his notebook. He grabs a blank canvas from the equipment room. “I’ll have it done at the end of the day, promise.” He answers to his manager.

He began to draw the outline of his new project, it didn’t take long for him to sketch it all out before adding the color. Y/n spent half of the day at work, he was actually able to finish up early and was aloud to leave home early, (which he was glad too after not sleeping at all) .

The weather was better in the afternoon. It was no longer raining and the sun was shinning down at them, slowly setting to end the day. He walked back to his apartment, spiting the veg large building he looks up to see if he was able to spot the golden bird but to his luck he couldn’t. Smiling, he steps off the curve only to hear a loud thundering and strong lighting. “What the hell.” He breaths out as he ran to his building, trying to avoid the rain from ruining his clothes. Right as he stepped foot Inside it started pouring, hard.

Y/n quickly takes the stairs to the roof, he wanted to make sure that the thunderbird was alright. Dropping his things by his doorway he doesn’t hesitate to head straight up the ladder. He exits the building and onto the roof only to see several men trying to hurt the thunderbird.

“Get away from him!!” Y/n shouts as he glared.

The five strange men turned to see y/n. “A no-maj!”

“Obliviate him!”

One of them stepped up and held out their wand, pointing towards y/n.

The thunderbird sees this and gets angry, he lets out a loud screech as he knocks down the wizards using his tail. He stood in front of y/n in a protective way. “Get that damn thing under control and that no-maj!” One man shouts as they began to throw hexes as the thunderbird. “Stop it! Your hurting him!!” Y/n shouted as he backs up from the chaos.

Everything was moving so fast, the thunderbird was flapping it’s now healed wing at the wizards. Trying to back them off, y/n pants as he takes another step back only to gasp, he noticed how close to the edge he was. The men were stepping closer, the more steps they take the further they had to go back.

One of the wizards kept throwing hexes, not stopping. It was trying to tire out the thunderbird from fighting back. Y/n glared at him, he ignored the other four wizards that were trying to stop the thunderbird from doing anything else.

“Hey!” Y/n shouts. “Leave the damn thunderbird alone.” He says as he gently grips the creatures feathers. The thunderbird flaps its wings harshly and picks up y/n by the shirt. Y/n gasps as he gets lifted up into the air.

“Oh my god!! Oh god!” He shouts in panic as he groans. “I think I’m gonna faint...or throw up.” He moans out. The thunderbird used his beak to place y/n on his back as they flew through the sky.

Y/n grips the thunderbirds feathers as he kept his head ducked down. He hated heights and flying just made things worse for him, “where exactly are we going?!” He shouts as he feels the wind against his cheeks.

The thunderbird only chirped in response as he continued to fly through the clear sky. Y/n sighs as he pressed his forehead against the back of the birds head, he closed his eyes and contained to breath slowly. “It’s all gonna be over...” he whispered to himself as he slowly drift off to sleep.

The flight only took a few hours before the thunderbird arrives at their locations. Landing in a large clear grass field, the thunderbird began to cry out in a singing kind of rhythm. This caused y/n to jolt awake and to fall off the birds back, “Ow...” he groans out as he gets up from the grass and grunts. “Where are we?” He asks as he stands up to see the open ocean as he stood on top of the mountain edge. “Holy shit where are we?!” He asks again.

“Frank?”

Y/n turns around to see a man in a blue coat. “Where did you come from? And who are you!” He ran over to Frank to keep him protected. (Even though he was a Tiny human being) Frank rolled his eyes as he chirps towards the British man. “It’s been a while Frank. I thought you went home.” The British man asks as he walks over carefully and stretched out his hand to stroke the thunderbirds feathers.

Y/n watched the Two and raised a brow in confusion. “Okay...” he says. “Hate to ruin the moment but where am I? And who are you? And what is going on?!” He began to repeat everything again as he panics.

The British man smiled shyly. “I’m Newt. Newt Scamander. And this is Frank he’s a thunderbird and a very rare species.” Y/n stared up at Frank and glared. “That doesn’t quiet answer my question...” he grumbled out. Newt nods softly. “Your in England, out in the country actually...” he says softly as he avoids eye contact.

Y/n’s eyes widen. “I’m in what?!” He shouts as he walks over to Frank. “You! Take me back home right now!” He points up at Frank, the thunderbird tilts its head and chirps.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you-“

“Shush!” Y/n says as he turns back to Frank. “Frank, take me back to New York this instint.”

Frank turns his back towards y/n, ignoring him.

“Frank!” Y/n shouts again as he tried to get the birds attention but the creature kept ignoring him. Newt could only watch and chuckle softly as he noticed the two bonding with each other.

“What are you laughing at?!” Y/n shouts at newt in frustration. This caused the Brit to look away shyly. “It’s weird seeing frank bonding with someone else, he’s usually cautious...”

“Well that because I saved his life, his wing was all messed up and I helped him out, then these guys appeared and began to hurt him.” Y/n explains as he gently stroked franks beak and smiled softly before frank nuzzled his hand.

Newt fiddled with his hand and cleared his throat. “If you’ll like I can help you out. Frank won’t seem to listen to me but he does to you.”

Y/n glanced up at the thunderbird who only stared back before he Male nods. “Alright.” He says as he crosse dhis arms, newt nods in response and began to walk towards his hidden place where he kept his case safe.

“Oh, you never told me your name.” Said newt as he turns back around to face y/n.

Y/n bites his lip. “Y/n. Y/n L/n.” He answers and only gets a smile from newt.

“Welcome to the wizarding world, looks like you and frank will get along quiet well.” He Said before leaving towards his case.

Y/n raised a brow and sighs. “This is gonna be a long day isn’t?” He looks up to frank who only squeaks and began to follow newt.

“Yep, it is.” He grumbled out as he followed the other two.

#male reader #newt scamander #theseus scamander #theseus x male reader #fantastic beats and where to find them #newt x male reader #Fantastic beasts and the crimes of grindelwald #thunderbird #magical creatures

311 notes · View notes

quicksilversquared · 4 years

Text

Vanished

Emilie Agreste has been getting ill more and more often, and no one will tell Adrien why.

And then, one day, she just....isn't there anymore.

Finish the Alphabet Challenge: Part 8

links in the reblog

Adrien was starting to get frustrated with his parents. A lot frustrated.

It was one thing for his mom to go to bed early without telling him good-night, because sometimes she got weak and tired and of course the smart thing to do was to go straight to bed to get some rest, just like the doctors had ordered. It made sense for her to not go out of her way to track down wherever in the house Adrien was - or out of the house, sometimes that happened, too- before going to bed. He would get to see her later, after her nap, or the next day when she woke up.

But it was happening more and more often, and no one would tell Adrien why. He was left in the dark, to worry and wonder and pace on his own.

It sucked. But Adrien was a little anxious about complaining, because his father had told him off before about being selfish and demanding extra attention when his mom wasn't feeling well, and he didn't want to be selfish. His parents had enough to keep track of and worry about without him bothering them about things that were none of his business.

(Adrien had trouble with that last bit, honestly- how was his mom's apparent decline in health not any of his business? If she got really ill, that would affect him, right? Sure, maybe he wouldn't be the one in a hospital bed, but- but-

But that still counted as affecting his life, right? Right?)

His mom always thanked him when he didn't ask questions, praising him for not being difficult or making problems. He was the best child she could have asked for, the most well-behaved, and she was so lucky.

But she never answered his unasked questions, or the questions that he asked when he slipped up and forgot not to pry. He was being kept in the dark, and it took practically everything in him not to show how frustrated he was getting.

Don't worry them. Be a good son, don't pry. Worrying will make Mom worse, just- just wait until you're old enough for them to be willing to share-

It was just taking so long. And now, his mom had been sent off to a spa to rest up and recover- whatever that meant, for all he knew she was getting treatment at a hospital and his parents just didn't want him to worry or didn't want to deal with the questions that a hospital visit would no doubt spur- for a week, with absolutely no warning whatsoever. And this was after several days of him not seeing her at all because she wasn't feeling well and had to rest all day.

Surely he was entitled to being able to do some worrying.

But his mom was meant to return tonight, and then he would get to see her again. If Adrien was right about the "spa" actually being a visit to the hospital, then she might even be feeling better again after getting some decent treatment and they could hang out again, just like they used to do all the time before the weak spells ate up all of the time that she had outside of her daily work.

Adrien was looking forward to seeing her again. Still, worry sat heavy in his gut. Something about this- about his mom leaving for the spa without waking him up to say good-bye, about the unexplained illnesses, about not even seeing her at meals on the days when she had been in the house- wasn't sitting right with him.

Maybe it was just worry about her illness, whatever she had. Maybe it was unfounded anxiety, spurred on by the lack of information. Maybe he was just as anxiety-ridden and high-maintenance as his father grumbled sometimes, and it was nothing at all.

Adrien played with his dinner, anticipation at his mom's impending return and worry that he couldn't quite put his finger on making it impossible for him to eat more than a few bites. He watched the clock anxiously, counting down the minutes until the time when Nathalie said that his mom would be back.

Or, rather, when she might be back. Promising exact timelines wasn't smart, Nathalie had told him more than once. Life got in the way, and adults that had said that they would be there at a certain time couldn't always make it. There might be traffic, or something else they had to attend to.

(Oddly enough, that logic didn't apply to Adrien and his photoshoots. He was expected to always be there on time, preferably early, even if he really wanted to stay at fencing or basketball for a couple extra minutes and actually have a conversation with some of the other kids. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to make a habit of being late to things, but surely it wouldn't be a big deal to allow for a little more wriggle room in his schedule?)

The clock ticked closer and closer. The staff finally took Adrien's now-cold food away and he moved into the atrium to read a book- well, to pretend to read a book, at least- and wait.

Closer. Closer. The clock chimed the time, and still no cars pulled through the gates.

….maybe there was traffic?

The clock ticked on. The worried knot in Adrien's gut grew tighter, but he didn't dare disturb his father and Nathalie, still working in the office and no doubt oblivious to the time. An hour passed, and finally Nathalie came out to tell Adrien to go to bed.

"But Mom isn't back yet!" Adrien protested, glancing out the window again, hoping that any moment now, he would see the headlights of whatever car was bringing her back turning into the drive. "Can't I stay up, just this once?"

Nathalie's lips flattened, and Adrien knew the answer before she even said anything. "It is bedtime, Adrien."

Adrien went.

There was no way that Adrien was going to fall asleep. Not when his mom was supposed to be home and wasn't. No number of "you'll see her in the morning, now go to bed"s from Nathalie could make him actually believe that enough to lay down and go to sleep.

(He had pretended to try, at least, when she came in to check on him. But as soon as the door shut behind her, Adrien had sat right back up, waiting, listening, only growing more anxious as time passed.

And then, at long last, there were voices. But they weren't the right voices.

Adrien hopped out of bed and rushed to his door, cracking it open just enough to peer out. As soon as he did, his heart dropped into his stomach.

There were police officers filling the atrium, concern written across their faces. Nathalie was waving them into his father's office, and Adrien could see his father greeting them just inside. And he- he was actively frowning. Which was weird, because normally Gabriel Agreste just looked haughty and detached. For him to be upset...

That meant that something was really, really wrong. Adrien's gut twisted and he considered going downstairs to try to eavesdrop, but the Gorilla was still out there and Adrien would get in trouble if he wasn't in bed like he was supposed to be.

But how could he go to bed if his world was falling apart? Because that was what was happening- that was what had to be happening. His mom had gone away and hadn't come back, and they hadn't been able to get in contact with her because something had gone terribly wrong.

What if she had been badly ill and everyone just thought that she was tired? What if that illness had gotten worse and she- and she had died?

Surely they would have been told already if anything like that had happened at the resort that she had gone to. There had to be people all over the place who would have noticed if anything was wrong.

But then- what?

Adrien ducked back into his room, only now noticing the blue and red lights reflecting off of the windows of the nearby buildings. He couldn't see the cars from his room- his windows looked out in the opposite direction, after all, not down at the courtyard- but he didn't need to. He had seen the uniforms, he had already seen the police officers there.

Why hadn't his father said anything to him? Surely- surely Adrien deserved to know right away what was going on? Was she missing? Had there been a car accident? A fire? People being held hostage at the resort?

Adrien paced, then sat down on his couch when he got too tired to keep walking and had stumbled several times. He just had to stay sitting up so that he would stay awake so that once his father came in- because surely he would come in right away?- he would tell Adrien what was going on.

The night kept on. Cars passed on the street. There was a small commotion as a group of young adults staggered past, down the street. The flashing lights decreased in number, then vanished completely as the last of the police officers drove off. The moon traced a track across the sky, and still no one came.

A tear traced its way across Adrien's face, and then another. Why wasn't anyone coming to tell him what was going on? He was trying to keep himself from imagining the worst, but it-

-it was hard.

A pink line of light finally appeared across the sky as the sun started to rise again, and still no one had come to tell him what was going on. Adrien rubbed his eyes, swollen and red from both exhaustion and tears, and tried to stay awake just a little bit longer. It was too early for him to go search out his father- he would be furious about being woken up early, after all, and he would probably yell instead of telling Adrien anything- so he just had to stay up a little bit longer. Just a little bit.

Gerald Brion knew that his employers, like many rich and famous people, were a bit on the eccentric side. They had secrets that they didn't want getting out, ones that even their loyal staff weren't allowed to know. Exhaustion and arguments were kept under wraps, wrinkles smoothed away, early greying covered up with dye jobs. It came with the territory, since the gossip magazines were rarely kind to any sort of aging or flaws that they saw.

Most of the Agreste family's secrets- well, of the ones Gerald knew about, none were particularly scandalous. Sure, there was a bit of an age gap between Mr. Agreste and his wife that they minimized with dye jobs and skin therapy, but- well, it wasn't a huge deal, hardly the scandalous gap that some celebrities had, just something that some people would raise a judging eyebrow at. There were the in-laws in London that Gabriel Agreste would clearly rather forget about, even if his wife loved her twin sister, but quarrels with and disagreements about in-laws were hardly something that was uncommon among married people.

And then there was whatever illness that Mrs. Agreste must have, one that made her exhausted and weak to the point of passing out on a regular basis.

Gerald frowned as he thought about Mrs. Agreste. He assumed, of course, that she had seen doctors about it- but he hadn't taken her in to see doctors any more often than normal for regular check-ups, and there hadn't been any house calls that he knew about, unless they came while he was driving Adrien around to various locations for his activities. And she had been getting weaker lately, canceling her appointments and outings more and more frequently..

According to Adrien, his parents had said that she had headed to a resort to recover earlier in the week. Which was odd, because- well, normally Gerald would have been the one to drive her anywhere that she wanted to go. It wasn't unheard of for Nathalie or Mr. Agreste to take the car on occasion, but normally they at least mentioned that they were doing that and where they were going.

And they hadn't mentioned when she would need to be picked up.

Gerald frowned deeper, considering that. It was possible, of course, that this resort provided pick-up and drop-off. It was possible that Nathalie or Mr. Agreste was going to pick Mrs. Agreste off. It was perhaps possible- though certainly not probable- that he was meant to pick Mrs. Agreste up, but Nathalie just hadn't told him yet, distracted by- Gerald assumed, at least, because that was what was reasonable- setting up the doctor's appointments that Mrs. Agreste so sorely needed.

And then they reached the day when Mrs. Agreste was meant to be returning, and still nothing was said. No requests for pick-ups, no letting him know when to expect another vehicle arriving at the mansion.

No Mrs. Agreste, either.

At just past eleven-thirty that evening, the police were called, and by eleven forty-five, several had arrived to speak to the family- or rather, to Mr. Agreste and Nathalie, who had been the ones last in contact with Mrs. Agreste. Adrien had been bundled off to bed well before the call with the assurance that they were sure that she was running a little late but it was past his bedtime and there was no sense in waiting up. Maybe there had been traffic.

Gerald had checked his road conditions app at that. There wasn't any unusually heavy traffic anywhere nearby.

(Adrien hadn't been particularly convinced, either, but he had gone to his room anyway. Not to bed, though- Gerald could see him staring at the police through a crack in his door.)

(He wasn't about to go up the stairs and correct that behavior, though. In all honesty, Gerald couldn't blame Adrien for being concerned. He was concerned, and he had been through )

The next morning, Gerald found Adrien on the couch in his room, small and exhausted and still asleep. Adrien had probably only just drifted off, if his guess was right, too exhausted to keep staying up like he had clearly been trying to do.

He sighed. The poor kid. Gerald hadn't stayed for the entirety of the police investigation- it had gone late and Mr. Agreste had excused him so that at least one member of the household could get some sleep- but he very much doubted that anything had turned up. Even if something had, the chances of Mr. Agreste or Nathalie actually coming in to tell Adrien anything were pretty slim. They would assume that Adrien had gone straight to bed and to sleep like an obedient machine instead of staying up in anxious wait, and then finally get around to telling him that his mom was officially listed as missing sometime later in the day.

Or maybe that was all bitter conjecture, heavily influenced by the fact that Adrien had clearly been left up waiting by himself. There were still traces of tear tracks running down his face.

Gerald sighed, considering Adrien for a moment before deciding against trying to move him to the bed. He probably wasn't very deeply asleep, and even if the rest that he would get on the couch wasn't going to be the best, it was better than nothing at all.

So he simply checked the settings on the windows to make sure that Adrien had remembered to shade them to keep the sun out the night before, then headed out of the room to see what he could learn. With any luck, the police had at least gotten some sort of lead.

He could only hope that Mrs. Agreste would be found safe and sound soon. If she wasn't….well, her absence was possibly the only thing holding the Agreste family together.

Without her there, they would shatter.

By noon, news of Mrs. Agreste's disappearance had hit the public, and TV channels picked the news up as an interest piece. The existence of a twin sister complicated things, as did the fact that Emilie Agreste had told her family that she would be going to one place, hadn't ever arrived, texted as though she were there for the entire week, then fell off of the grid when she was meant to be going home.

There were a lot of people concerned. Was it a kidnapper? That could be dangerous for all of them! But maybe the kidnapper wouldn't be interested in normal people at all. After all, Emilie Agreste was famous, from a rich family, and she had several credits to her name- modeling, acting, voice acting, and her own jewelry line, to name a few- that might make her more of a target for someone who wanted money. It wasn't something for the average person to worry too much about.

(Some worried anyways. After all, the Agreste family had drivers and bodyguards and fancy security systems, didn't they? They should be some of the safest people in the city. And yet…)

In London, Amelie Graham de Vanily awoke to a less-than-pleasant visit from a police officer who wanted to know when she had last been in contact with her sister and if anything had seemed off. As it turned out, her brother-in-law hadn't called her up to let her know that her sister was missing, and so the police hadn't known to be more careful with bringing up the news.

(Gabriel Agreste was called one hour and thirty-seven minutes later to get the loudest and most extensive chewing-out that he had ever had- or, well, he would have, except he had set the phone down and ignored the increasingly high-pitched screeching while he went back to work on his designs and only picked the phone back up once Amelie wound down.)

She hadn't noticed anything off, but she also hadn't texted her sister at all for over a week. That wasn't unusual- after all, they were in different countries and had their own lives, and they were busy- but now Amelie was wishing that she had reached out more, or visited more often, or convinced Emilie that Gabriel was no good and she and Adrien should move to London…

(The police noted in-laws do not like Gabriel Agreste but didn't really mark that as potentially important information. After all, despite his prominence as a fashion designer, a number of people found Gabriel Agreste a pain in the rear to deal with, caustic and rude when he felt like his time would be better spent elsewhere. That his in-laws weren't particularly fond of him honestly came as very little surprise to anyone.)

The news ran several times a day at first, asking people to be on the alert for anyone looking like Emilie Agreste (unless they were in London) and providing a hotline to call. There was a reward for information, and a website that people could go to if they would prefer to submit any leads or other information that way.

And gradually, it dropped off. No leads had been found, the hotline remained silent, and the only submission to the website ended up being from before Mrs. Agreste had gone missing at all. People found other things to talk about, and those gradually took over the news cycle instead. Reminders dropped down to once a day, then once every few days, and then only when there was a slow news day and news anchors needed to fill up the time.

Paris had moved on.

Adrien couldn't remember a time when he had ever been so strung out and exhausted as he had been after his mom vanished. He couldn't sleep well at night, and his eyes felt sandy and heavy even when he hadn't been crying. He spent all of his time anxiously waiting for some news, any news, but if anything had been turned up, no one had told him.

He was being left in the dark. As usual.

He didn't want to do any of his usual activities- Adrien just didn't have the energy- but his father insisted. So Adrien was driven to basketball, to fencing, to lessons, and he had to put on a strong face and pretend that he wasn't falling to pieces on the inside because something had happened to his mom and he just didn't know what. People tended to avoid him even so, clearly feeling awkward and unsure of what to say to him when they really hadn't known him that well in the first place.

Maybe if he had been allowed to stay after and chat with other kids on a regular basis they would have been more comfortable around him. As it was, they weren't close enough to him to really talk about what he was going through.

Adrien's only actual friend was Chloe, and she would rather talk about herself than listen to him try to discuss his feelings at all. He had even had the Gorilla remove her from the mansion once because he just couldn't spare the energy to listen to herself complain about the hotel staff and guests anymore, not when her issues were trivial to start with and seemed outright unimportant and petty compared to his missing mom.

Maybe Chloe didn't have her mom- maybe Mrs. Bourgeois was a terrible person and had run off and left her husband and daughter in the lurch because they weren't glam enough for her- but at least she knew where her mom was. They saw each other sometimes, even if Audrey Bourgeois was always unpleasant when she visited. It wasn't the same.

(Maybe- maybe Chloe thought that it was somehow and that was why she was brushing it off like it was nothing. Maybe she thought that she was providing a distraction and that was what he wanted. Maybe she didn't know how to act, either, and so had doubled down on her usual behavior to try to pretend that everything was normal, just for a while.

Whatever it was- well, it wasn't helpful.)

So Adrien tried to make sense of everything himself, doing his best to heal with (almost) no one to talk to and trying not to drive himself crazy with looking over his last texts with his mom, unable to help wondering if there was something he missed. His father didn't believe in therapists, nor did he seem particularly interested in holding any sort of conversation with Adrien himself about how he was feeling.

Which- well, Adrien could understand that! He knows that this whole thing had to be incredibly stressful for his father, because the police kept coming over and talking to him like he was a suspect somehow or like he might magically come up with a new bit of information and there was all of the media attention and whatnot to deal with, so he couldn't be expected to deal with Adrien, too. It was just too much to have on one person's plate.

(Actually, that was a lie. Adrien couldn't understand it, no matter how logically he tried to lay it out for himself in his own mind. His father was the only immediate family he has left, shouldn't they be leaning on each other for support? Maybe his dad had to deal with more, because of all of the legal stuff, but that didn't mean that he couldn't at least listen to Adrien, right?)

He was alone, struggling to keep his head up. And then…

Well, his father and Nathalie weren't the only adults around who were close enough to Adrien for him to trust them. As it turned out, the Gorilla was more than willing to listen to Adrien spilling his guts. Maybe he couldn't really give a lot of feedback other than nods or grunts, but even being able to talk at someone (someone, not just one of his stuffed animals) had helped Adrien feel a little bit better. His bodyguard's reactions meant that his feelings were validated, at least a little bit.

And Adrien needed that.

Two books on dealing with grief and uncertainty had appeared on Adrien's bed the day after their first conversation, tucked under the covers so that no one else would notice them. Several printed-off sheets of paper were tucked between the pages with little highlighted sections and scribbled notes, an additional personal touch that neither Nathalie nor his father would have thought of. Another page held instructions for how to get past the internet monitoring systems that Mr. Agreste had, and a handwritten link to a website where he could chat with a therapist online if he needed to.

For the first time in weeks, the tears that slid down Adrien's cheeks weren't sad ones.

Maybe he didn't have all the support that a normal kid in his situation would have, but at least he wasn't alone. He did have someone who was willing to listen and sympathize with him, and while maybe that wouldn't bring him answers about what happened to his mom sooner… well, it helped. A lot.

And now- well, maybe now Adrien could start to heal.

#Miraculous Ladybug #my writing #finish the alphabet challenge #adrien agreste

47 notes · View notes

messie2624 · 3 years

Link

Title: The SeroMomo Dilemma

Chapter: 4

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

Relationships: Sero Hanta & Yaoyorozu Momo, Kaminari Denki/Sero Hanta, Jirou Kyouka/Yaoyorozu Momo, Todoroki Shouto & Yaoyorozu Momo

Characters: Yaoyorozu Momo, Sero Hanta, Kaminari Denki, Jirou Kyouka, Mineta Minoru, Todoroki Shouto, Class 1-A (My Hero Academia)

Additional Tags: the fake dating AU where they don't end up dating, the fake dating AU where they're both gay, Lesbian Yaoyorozu Momo, Gay Sero Hanta, Bisexual Disaster Kaminari Denki, Bisexual Jirou Kyouka, Gay Todoroki Shouto, Pervert Mineta Minoru, Mentions of homophobia, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships and Characters to Be Added, platonic seromomo, Platonic TodoMomo, Eventual Kamisero, eventual momojirou, Yaoyorozu Momo has anxiety, Sero Hanta has Chronic Pain, sero hanta has anxiety, platonic kamijirou

Language: Ongoing

Status: Complete

Summary: All Momo needed to do was lie to Mineta about having a boyfriend. Sero just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Fake Dating AU (where they don't actually date because they're both gay)

Link Above, Fic Below

Momo had never gone on a date before. She imagined it would be similar to the ones from all those slice of life manga that Hagekure reads. She and Sero would be seated at a nice, quiet, small cafe, not far from UA’s campus. The day would be filled with conversation, getting to know each other, and trying to figure out where to go from here.

She ruffled through her closet. What was she supposed to wear for something like this? She had no frame of reference besides movies and television. She had texted the 1A girls chat for advice earlier and received a lot of it. Ashido said to dress hot, which Momo didn’t feel entirely comfortable with. She doubted Sero would be very comfortable with that either. Hagakure said to dress cute, which could work but she wasn’t sure how to properly execute. Asui said to dress comfy and Uraraka said to dress casual, which she felt was the best advice she’d gotten but wasn’t entirely sure how to put it together. This was nothing like when she had to put together disguises. That was fun (if you remove the event from the situation) and this was no fun at all, more stressful than anything else. And this wasn’t even a real date! But it did have to look like a date. She groaned and checked her phone, scrolling through the chat. Jirou hadn’t responded yet. The other girl was probably busy... It was their day off after all. There were probably plenty of other things to do on the weekend that were more important. She shook her head. She couldn’t think about that now. What Momo needed was a more logical approach to all this, and when she needed logic, she called Kendo.

She picked up after the third ring.

“Hey Momo, what’s up?”

“Hey, I need your help with something.”

“Go for it.”

She looked over all her clothes. “What do you wear on a date?”

“You’re going on a date? That sounds so fun! Where are you going? Who are you going with?”

“We’re going to a café and it’s not like that.”

Kendo hummed over the line. “What are you going for?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like what you want to get out of it? What message do you send to them?”

Momo bit her lip. “It’s a complicated message…”

“Try me.”

“I need something that tells the class ‘we’re dating’ but to get the class perv off my back.” The line was quiet for a moment. “Kendo?”

“Well, that is certainly a complicated message.”

Momo flopped on her bed. “Yeah. What do I do?”

“Okay, do you remember that top you wore the last time we hung out?”

Momo got up and started ruffling through her closet until she found the somewhat flowy, rose v-neck. “I do.”

“Good. Wear that and that cute cream skirt. It shows off enough while still being modest and comfortable.”

Momo sighed in relief. “Thanks so much.”

“No problem. Good luck with your date. I want details later.”

She felt her face burn. “I told you it wasn’t like that!”

Kendo laughed over the line. “I know. Talk to you later.”

Momo immediately felt better after that conversation and went back to the task at hand. She put the two items together and stood in front of the mirror. Kendo was right. It wasn’t too over the top, more on the simple side, but it was comfy and it looked nice on her. As Ashido would say, it “showed off her assets”. The thought made her giggle, since she didn’t have the “assets” Sero found attractive in a romantic partner. To be fair, he didn’t have the assets she found attractive either.

She made her way down to the common room where Sero was waiting for her. She gracefully pretended not to notice how Ashido and Kirishima (and disgruntled looking Bakugou) lurked around the corner. He gave her a small smile when he saw her. “You look very nice.”

She smiled. “Thank you. So do you.”

“Thank you. This is my nicest hoodie.” She could tell that he put (or was forced to put) effort into his appearance. His clothes looked less baggy than she was used to seeing him in. They didn’t look too mismatched which added to the believability of the couple. He looked nice. Any guy would be lucky to have him.

She smiled. “Ready to go?”

His grin turned nervous, which made her nervous. “What’s wrong?”

“We have a slight problem.”

“What is it?”

“Aizawa-sensei says that we need a chaperone, and someone volunteered to come with us.”

Momo internally groaned. “And who might that be?”

--------------------------

“Shouto,” Momo said politely, through a forced smile and gritted teeth. It was such a nice day at such a nice cafe with such nice company. And now Shouto. Wonderful.

The man in question didn’t look up from his book, a book that he brought to chaperone his friend’s date. “Yes, Momo?”

She stirred her tea absentmindedly. “You know how I told you I had a date today?”

He absently nodded. “I do. It was a wonderful conversation. We really should have more talks like that.”

She hummed in agreement. “We should. However, that was not an invitation to crash my date, especially as a chaperone .”

He shrugged. “Sensei said you needed a chaperone. Apparently all the teachers have personal lives, so I volunteered.”

She glared at him. “Thank you for doing so so willingly.”

“Just doing my duty as a future hero.”

She frowned. “You don’t even have your provisional license yet.”

He hummed into his teacup. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that it sounds like you don’t want me here.”

He was seriously trying her patience. “I don’t. I’m on a date.”

He put down his cup and thought for a moment. “And we’re still having a wonderful time together. Wouldn’t you agree, Sero?”

Sero fiddled with one of his hoodie strings. “Yeah, I guess so?”

Shouto gave her an ‘I told you so’ glance over his cup, making Momo seriously consider smacking her head against the table. The urge was growing stronger and stronger with every passing moment.

“But in all honesty,” he admitted, “I don’t understand why you’re with him. He… doesn’t seem like your type.”

Sero chuckled. “I get that. I’m not a lot of people’s type.”

Before Shouto could go any further, Momo quickly interjected. “I’m not his type either.”

The tension was slowly eased from Shouto’s face. “Oh… oh. Then why?”

“I’m helping her get Mineta off her case. There was a situation where she panicked and I’m helping her,” Sero explained.

Shouto nodded. “I see.”

“The class needs to think that we’re dating, so please keep this under wraps, Shouto,” Momo admitted.

“Do you two have any rules in place?”

Sero rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous smile. “That’s what we were using this date to figure out.”

“Hmm, I see. I suppose I could make myself scarce for half an hour. Is that enough time?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Shouto nodded and rose from his seat. “I’ll be at the bookstore if you need me before then.” They both watched him walk off.

They sat in silence for several seconds.

“I guess we should-” “What do we do-”

Sero chuckled nervously. “You start.”

Momo brushed her bangs out of her face. “I guess we should start with physical boundaries? I don’t want to kiss you, no offense.”

Sero’s laugh was more genuine this time, more relaxed. Momo found she quite liked the sound. “I get it, don’t worry. Same here. I’m pretty okay with most other things: hugs, cuddles, the like. The squad and I do it all the time.”

She fiddled with her hands. “I’m… honestly not sure how I feel about that sort of thing.”

“That’s okay. We’re a pretty touchy bunch, it’ll take a while to get used to.” He took a sip of his water. “They’ll expect you to hang out with us sometimes. You don’t have to if you don’t want to obviously, but you’re always welcome to.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. They seem like a lot of fun.”

He smiled. “Yeah, they are.”

“So what do we do for dates? Do you want to have a specific day set aside for them or see when inspiration strikes?”

“Dates can be stuff like this, homework, or whatever. I’m not really picky. Although… homework help would be nice. I can cook a little too, if you want food at the dorms.”

She raised her eyebrow. “Really? I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Yeah, but we mostly bully Bakugou into cooking for us. I’m a bit of a health nut, so I don’t cook that often for others. Although, Mina has called my tofu stir-fry ‘the only tofu I will willingly eat.’”

“That’s certainly some high praise. Are you vegan?”

“Pescatarian actually. I like sushi and milk too much to be vegan.”

Momo made a mental note to do dietary research just in case he ever came over to her house. “I would love to try your stir-fry, especially with such a glowing review.”

He smiled that lopsided smile. “Then it’s a date.”

She smiled back at him. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as she thought. Next on the list was- “How did we start dating? They’ll all want to know.”

“I say we keep it simple and truthful: you asked me out and it went from there. Anything besides that, I’ll go with whatever makes you comfortable.”

Whatever makes you comfortable. She wasn’t sure when the last time she heard those words directed towards her. It was comforting. “Thank you for that. I think we have only been dating for a few days or a week at most. Our relationship is new enough for it to be believable.”

“Sounds good to me. I don’t think Mina would believe we’ve been dating for much longer than that. Speaking of which…” he trailed off as he fiddled with his napkin.

Momo felt her body freeze. They were discovered. Momo didn’t know who, how, or when but this whole thing was going to fall apart before they had even started. She could practically smell the scandal, especially if they found why they would-

“Bakugou knows.”

They could turn this around, right? She didn’t want to go back to-

“About me, at least. I didn’t want to say anything about you without you there or knowing it. He’s not gonna rat us out, he’s not like that.”

“Are you sure that he won’t out us? Positive?”

Sero nodded, gently reaching over but not quite taking her hand. “I’m positive. If you’re worried about it, you can talk to him about it. But he won’t out us, he’s not that cruel.”

That made her breathe a little easier. “Good… good…”

“You okay?”

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” She was probably nodding too much for him to properly believe her but he didn’t say anything more about it. “Sero.”

“Yeah, Momo?”

“It’s okay for you to hold my hand.”

“Oh,” his smile turned soft as he gently interlocked their fingers. “Good. I didn’t want to spook you or anything. I get like that sometimes.”

“We’re gonna be okay,” she murmured to herself.

“We’re gonna be okay,” he agreed in a soft voice.

They could do this for a couple months, right? All she needed was this to not completely blow up in their faces. What could go wrong?

#bnha seromomo dilemma #bnha #Sero Hanta #Yaoyorozu Momo #portfolio

4 notes · View notes

eveningcatcher · 4 years

Text

Main six + courtiers playing D&D part 1

"Alright, now that everyone's here," you said as you were looking over your papers, "Let's get started, shall we?"

"Wait, wait," Vulgora said, swinging their character sheet in the air, "How did you calculate any of these things? Why the fuck is here +5" she pointed at their intimidation stat, then moved her finger to the persuasion stat, "And here it's +3?"

"It's because you've added your proficiency bonus there," Nadia explained as she stirred her coffee.

"Proficiency?" they asked, frowning.

"That coloured dot," Julian said.

"Ohh, ohhhh, that makes sense now," they put the paper down and took the large gulp of their beer, recklessly spilling it over the white sheet of paper.

Valerius moves his chair away from the pontifex, as well as his character sheets, "So, I can leave in three hours, right?"

Read the whole chapter here

"Why would you want to leave so soon?" you asked them, pouring them a glass of wine.

"Because there is no fulfilment in wasting time with filling these sheets and sitting idly, spending the precious time in useless chatter about non-existing worlds and their non-existing characters going into non-existing journeys," quaestor added as they pulled a chair in between Volta and Vulgora, "If your heart yearns for such journeys and adventures then why don't you go on and experience them on your own?"

"I see you've done some research," Portia adds as she put a huge tray of food next to the procurator, "Ilya remember when we used to play D&D?"

Julian gave his sister a wide grin, "Oh, I remember when you started yelling at me whenever I would be a DM."

"Well that's because you would never let me do anything I wanted to," she put a cup of tea next to the praetor, "Careful, it's still hot."

"So how long do we play this game?" Vlastomil asked, "I need to take care of my dear Wriggler. Oh, how sad she was when I left," he frowned, quickly wiping a single dear, "She must be worried sick, wriggling around, eating her sorrows away..."

"Oh, I can completely understand her, yes I can," Volta rose her head from her food, giving the praetor an understanding look, "I always eat when I'm stressed and anxious."

"You always eat, though," Asra commented before facing Julian, "Did I fill this right?" they asked him.

"Hm, let me see," he took the papers, along with the player's handbook. He would list through the pages, not bothering to check the book content, only stopping when he needed to check the papers.

"Here," he pointed at the skills, "You can check another stat you want."

"Oh, thanks," they took the pencil and checked insight, adding the proficiency bonus.

"So, shall we begin then?" you asked as you raised DM's screen.

"Why do you have that?!? Where is mine?!?"

"Yeah, I want some too!" Lucio demanded.

"But I am the DM, players can't have this."

"Can we just begin already?" Muriel said something for the first time, "I just want to leave."

"Alright, fine. I hope you've all made yourselves comfortable because we won't take a break for a while."

"Oh, that's no good, no, that is terrible," tiny procurator said as she was chewing her food, spilling some of it out, "What about the food? We're almost out!"

"Don't worry dear," Nadia said, as she was taking one of her rings out, cleaning the emerald with her sleeve, "Food will be brought over the time, so let's just begin already."

"Alright, alright, let's begin now," you said as you gathered magic in your hands, letting it poof and cover the top of the table, "The story begins in a small tavern on the northern side of the human village-"

"Let's smash their skulls and claim all of their things!" Vulgora said as they smashed their fist on the table, moving the mist away.

"I mean, you could do that," you said, putting your finger on your lips as you gave their idea a bit more thought. Once you've come up with the satisfying idea, you started to control the mist, folding it to your liking, until the mist turned into an inside of a tavern, with all of their characters sitting on one table, some of them drinking, others talking(more like arguing) and others playing a game of cards.

Amongst them, there is one certain Dragonborn who can't seem to calm down. They stand up, walking over the table, then announcing their idea loudly enough for the other PC's to hear:

"Let's kill everyone in this stupid village!" the Dragonborn said.

"I don't know, I kinda like it here," Julian's PC said as they took another glass of beer.

"Oh, I love this magic smoke!" he said as he grabbed a handful of popcorn, munching on it as he tried not to spill it.

"I'll try my best to make it as realistic as possible," you said, as you stopped motioning with your hands once you were sure the magic will last, "But anyway, any other thoughts on Vulgora's idea?"

"Absolutely no." Nadia and her character said in unision.

"I have to agree with the countess," Valerius said as he went through his character sheets, "The guards will kill us all."

"No they won't," Vulgora responded sharply, "There are so many of us, we will kill them all!"

"We are all first level, so I doubt it," Portia said, taking the tray of food and setting it in front of hungry Volta.

"Wait, there are levels here," praetor asked, his head buried in the player's handbook, not understanding anything.

"Yes, twenty of them, apparently," Valdemar added calmly, clearly bored; "Um, is that supposed to happen?" Muriel asked as they pointed towards a figure walking towards their PC's.

With a sly grin, you started to tell them your story. Altering your voice to what you believe a tall, middle-aged sorcerer would sound like.

Everyone looked at each other as if they thought that the other knew what was going on. Once they realised that this is most likely something about your story, they looked at the fog and listened to the old sorcerer.

"So... you must be the adventurers who want to," he quickly took a glance at the other people in the tavern, leaning towards the table the group was sitting in, and, with a low voice, said, "Kill the gods?"

"I, uh," Muriel stuttered, not knowing how to react, however, Asra started talking, moving the attention to them and, with a sly grin, said "Yes, you got the right people."

"Oh, ho, so it is indeed you," he chuckled, "What an... interesting bunch you are... reminds me of the last adventurers who have tried to do what you long for..." he smiled, "Ohh, those were the times, yes indeed they were."

"Tell us more about them," Portia insisted.

"Ohh, they were, you know, quite the colourful bunch," he said, "Though not as big as you are. Just a small group of three, a human, tiefling and a..." he stopped talking for a moment, taking the time to run their bony hands through the beard, "A, hmm, was she a pureblood, or a human too... I can't quite recall," he shrugged it off with a simple gesture of hands, "It doesn't matter. The important, and a quite interesting part, is that they were all wronged by the world and-"

"Oh, please make it quick, I don't care about them!" Vulgora's PC said.

"I use my cantrip prestidigitation to muffle out their complains," Asra said.

"Okay, you succeeded," you said, through a giggle as you muted Vulgora's endless number of complaints.

"," Vulgora tried to say something, but no words could be heard from their lips. However, this couldn't stop them, so they signed to Asra a few words, probably the only ones they knew how to sign: I'll crush you, wizard boy!

"Sorry about that my good sir," Nadia's PC turned on her chair, calling a taverner, "Could you please bring us some ginger ale for this gentleman?"

The sorcerer chuckled, satisfied with the free drink and continued, "Well then, where was I again, ah yes," he stroke his long beard as he recalled the lore, "Those three were, quite a chaotic bunch to say the least. They all hated this society, but they didn't blame the government, no no, they blamed the gods who have created this world. So anyway, what is the reason behind your decision?" he leaned to Muriel's druid, "Is it power, glory and praise? No, you don't look like the type who desires such things..." he muttered, leaning towards the evil Tiefling, "What about you, oh I think I know!" he nodded with satisfaction, "You seek the answers, young one, don't you? Or maybe it's the curiosity; what would the world be like with no god? Oh, ho, ho..." he sat back to his chair, just in time as he was handed the beverage and took a huge gulp, choking on it. With a few loud coughs, he calmed down and continued, "Well then, I must warn you, everyone who tried to kill a God has met the same fate, so I truly hope that your reason is worth it."

"Of course it is!" Lucio exclaimed, happy that the attention finally focused on him, "If we kill Gods, then everyone would be forced to become an atheist, and the only person that they could worship would be me!"

Everyone took a moment of silence to think through his preposterous statement. Julian and Portia tried to muffle their laugh, while Vugora, who finally got the ability to talk again stayed silent.

"Well, I mean," the old man started, "I guess it's not that bad. There wouldn't be any cultist attacks anymore..." he stayed silent after that statement as he, slowly this time, took a sip of the drink. Once he had drunk it all, he stood up, "Well, thank you, my children, for the drink, in return, I offer you the map to three of twelve artefacts that you'll need to kill a god."

"Wait, what are we supposed to do after we got them?" Volta asked as she chewed on a sandwich with excitement in her eyes. She was certainly enjoying this a lot more than she had expected to.

In response, the sorcerer chuckled, but this time, there was something odd in his voice, "Oh, please, only two people have gotten all three of the artefacts," after that bold statement, he seemed to have realised that he might have sounded a bit too dark, so he changed the tone, giving the group a warm smile, "But I'm sure that you could get them. Oh, ho, ho, after all, there is eleven of you, I'm sure some of you could be lucky enough."

With that, he dropped them a scroll and slowly walked towards the exit. "So," you said, "What will you do with the scroll?"

"Read it, obviously," Valerius responded, trying to sound as though he was bored.

"Alright. Nadia, you have opened the scroll, however, you can't understand anything it's written. However, you Valdemar seem to understand it. It's written in Infernal."

"Very well, then," they extended a hand to Nadia, "Give me the scroll."

"Um," she looked at you, as you gathered fog in your hands, forming a scroll with some unreadable words to her, but, when she handed it to Valdemar, they seemed to be able to read it. They didn't read it aloud, instead, they simply rolled their eyes.

"Come on, read it already!" Valstomil demanded.

"Very well then," they started reading a scroll, with a dull voice"Hot elf moms in your area are looking for a good time. No need for a pouch, they just want your big-"

"WRONG SCROLL, WRONG SCROLL!!!" the sorcerer rushed into the tavern, snatching the scroll, replacing it with a lot older one, a bit ripped at the side.

Everyone, excluding some burst into laughter. Portia's face has gotten so red that Julian laughed even louder, pointing at her, even though he didn't look any better. Asra tried to hold in the laugh, knowing that this is not the joke they should laugh at, while Muriel innocently asked Volta what was the big thing elf moms wanted. Neither one of them knew the answer, so they asked Vulgora, who gladly responded with: "Elves want the di-" they stopped as soon as they saw the Countess' disapproving look.

"I swear if this one is also a 'wrong scroll' I'm leaving," Valerius said.

"Alright, alright," you said, a bit disappointed that not everyone enjoyed the joke as much as you did, "Here you go, Julian" you handed him another scroll.

He took it and, with a bit of scepticism, started reading in a dramatic voice, accenting a random word that he found interesting: "The first artefact is Abaddon's dagger. It lies untouched in the Saint Milu's church, slowly rusting away, waiting for its owner to return, or perhaps, for another champion worthy of them..." he stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath and asked in a normal tone: "So, how was that?"

"Perfect Ilyushka!" Portia said with a smile, "You can read the scrolls from now on!" she shifted her gaze to you, "So, how are we supposed to find that dagger?"

"I don't know," you sulked into your seat, "You're supposed to think of an idea," you slowly straightened your posture, "But, if you get stuck, I guess I will help you out."

"Shouldn't we go ask some people about that church?" Volta asked as she bit on cherry cheesecake.

"That seems to be the best option," Nadia concluded, "Then, let's go, shall we?"

Before they left, Julian took a d20 and said with a smirk, "I roll sleight of hand check to see if I can steal some money from that dude drinking beer," he pointed at some random guy sitting next to the exit.

"Alright," you said, "Go on."

He put the dice in between his hands, pretending to pray and rolled it. The dice hit Volta's plate, to which she flinched, and then finally, the dice stopped. It rolled on 16.

"Yeah, you succeeded," you started as you grabbed some popcorn, "You took a little pouch, containing 2gp."

"I walk to the gentleman and inform him that his pouch has been stolen by this terrible man," Valerius said with a sly grin as he sipped his wine.

"Dude NO!" Julian shouted.

Before you could determine the outcome you turned to see if Valerius is still sure about his decision, to which he simply nodded. Amused by the way this is going so far, you said: "Well, you've told the man about the stolen money," you shifted your hands up, moulding the fog to your imagination, then continued talking in a masculine voice, "That rascal! Thank you, my man, at least some of this youth is still polite," the man stood up, walked to Julian, slapped him right across the face and took the old pouch from his hands, "How disrespectful, did your mother teach you that?!?!"

Asra giggled like a highschooler while Muriel looked amused as he listened to Volta commenting about how, if he were to steal her food, she would have given him more than just a slap.

"Roll a d20 to see how bad the imprint looks," you took the d20 that still laid next to Volta's plate to Julian. This time, he didn't do anything fancy, instead, he just rolled it expecting to get some low number.

"Natural twenty," you snorted, hiding your face in your hands from laughter, "Oh my god," you felt your face getting redder and redder from the lack of oxygen, "Yeah, that will defenetely leave a mark," you shifted the fog towards Julian's face, imprinting a red handprint across his left cheek.

"You look like a fucking idiot!" Vulgora laughed their ass off, pointing at Julian's face.

"Serves you right for doing such a crime!" Vlastomil added, along with Volta who just nodded in approval, too busy with eating to respond.

"Was it really necessary for you to be a snitch, consul?" Nadia asked, "After all, I believe that the point of the game is to do anything you want."

Valerius, in response, gave an ironic smile, lowering his head as if he were to bow, "But countess, I am simply acting according to my," he raised his sheet, "Alignment."

"Can we beat our teammates?" Portia asked.

"Why not," you smiled, still thinking about Julain's scar.

"Okay, so, consul," Portia turned to Valerius, "If you decide to be a snitch again, " she put her hand on Asra's shoulder, "We will beat you up!"

"Just take all of his possessions and give it to the poor if he likes helping so much," Muriel commented as he peeled lemon as if it were an orange.

"Muriel," Portia walked to him and gave him the tightest hug she could, "You're a genius! MC, give him 50gp for such a brilliant idea!"

"Sorry, but I can't," you shifted in your seat as you arranged some of the papers, "But I can continue with the story!"

"Finally, I was getting bored," Valdemar said, "When can I summon the dead?"

"When you reach the third level, I believe," you gave them a quick response and then continued talking about the campaign, "So anyway, you leave the tavern with Julian. who is still dazed by the slap-"

"You'll make this a permanent scar, won't you?" he asked as he pointed at his face.

"Of course I will. So, you left the tavern and noticed a bleeding beggar on the side, what do you do?"

"Valerius, this is your chance!" Asra said mockingly.

"Can we help them?" Volta asked, looking at the fog, "She looks like she hasn't been eating for days!"

"They're bleeding and you're caring about that," Lucio turned to Volta, then to others, "Why should we do anything? MC is probably just messing with us."

"Like with that scroll!" Vlastomil agreed.

"Do they have anything valuable that we could take?" Valdemar asked.

"Oh, I'm glad you're finally getting the hang of roleplaying, quaestor, but no, they don't have anything useful."

"Hm," the quaestor was silent for a moment, then they responded with a gleam of delight in their eyes, "I need components for my spells, no?" they didn't give you the time to respond, "While she may not have any valuables, she still has bones, doesn't she?"

"Valdemar no!" Nadia said.

"Why not, after all, the point of the game is to do anything you want, isn't it?" Valerius, said, still a bit salty.

"Shut up, all of you!" Portia said as she slammed her hands on the table, which made you flinch, "At this point, she'll bleed to death! Julian do something!"

"Why me?"

"Because you have Cure wounds! Use it to heal her!"

"But then I'll spend my slot."

"BuT tHeN I'lL sPeNd mY sLoT," she said as she mimicked him, "I don't care, do it, or else I'll give you a matching scar on the other cheek!"

"Fine... I use my spell on the beggar."

"Okay, you succeeded, the beggar is not bleeding, what now?" you asked.

"I give her some of my food rations," Volta said.

"Alright," you changed the fog to show a healed beggar with some food in front of her, "You've helped her, congrats, but she doesn't say anything, instead, she just stares at you."

"Let's just keep going," Asra said, "We've done enough."

"I agree, let's go for that dagger!"

"But we don't know where it is," Vlastomil said.

"Let's just snoop around then," Portia said with a smile.

"You're in a town," you pointed at the fog which showed their PC's walking around the village, "What now?"

"We ask the NPC's if they know where that church is," Asra said as his PC walked to one woman, "Excuse me, do you know where..." he stopped for a moment to think, " Saint Milu is?"

"Why I do," she said, "But, are you sure you want to go? It's very dangerous."

"Of course we do!" Vulgora added, "Nothing is too dangerous, you're just making a fuss over nothing!"

"Well, if you're so confident, then if you do go there and return alive, I'll tell my dad and he'll reward you."

"Um...sure?" Asra said, a bit reluctant.

"But I need proof that you were there!"

"Sure, what do you want?"

"How am I supposed to know that?" she pouted, "I've never gone there myself. I told you it's too dangerous, remember?"

"Alright, alright, we'll bring you a battle trophy, just tell us where to go, goddammit!" Vulgora said, clearly losing their patience.

"Alright, alright, sheesh," she said, "Just go north from the city's shop. It's the last house in the village, just straight forward," she extended her hand in front of herself, "You can't miss it!"

"Thank you," Julian said, "By the way, has anyone ever told you you look dazzling?"

"Why thank you, " she smiled, "Too bad I can't say the same for your face," she giggled and went her way.

"OH MY GOD!!!" Portia snorted, unable to sustain the laughter.

"You'll keep doing this to me, won't you?" Julian asked defeated.

You nodded and continued., with the narration: "You've walked to the small shop. Do you want to stop by to buy some things?"

All of them agreed and went inside.

"Oh, travellers, I haven't seen any of them in a while. Greetings, greetings, how may I help you," he turned to Vlastomil and Valdemar's PC, to which he immediately shouted, shaking in fear, "Oh GOD, please, please don't kill me! I don't have any valuables, nor do I have much money, plus I'm not tasty, see?" he pointed at himself, "I'm only skin and bone! I barely have anything to feed my son with, please, please spare me!"

"Um, sir," Nadia said, "We are not here to kill you... we just want to buy something."

"You do?" the man straightened himself, grasping at Nadia's hands with tears of joy, "Oh thank you, thank you! I thought this was going to be the last day of my life! Please, ask for anything that you need!"

"Do you have healer's kit?" Volta asked.

"Why I certainly do, my dear," the shopkeeper responded, "That'll be 7gp."

"But isn't the price for that 5gp?" Portia asked.

"It is," the shopkeeper said, "However, I had to buy this in the town and to go all the way to here. Plus I'm also the only shopkeeper in all of the nearby villages."

"Could you give us a special price," Julian asked, "After all we are the adventurers, so we'll surely buy many things!"

"Are you buying the healer's kit for him, dear?" he asked Volta, "I doubt that will be enough to help him," before Julian could protest about the rude comment again, the shopkeeper clapped his hands and said, "But I sure know what could help you!" he bowed down and took a little bottle, "Mommy's kiss!"

"Mommy's kiss?"

"Yes, mommy's kiss is a powerful cream that can clear your skin from any acne, blackheads and, most importantly, scars! Suitable for any race and any skin type! My son loves it!"

"If that's the only thing that will remove this scar, then sure. How much for Mommy's kiss?"

"Well, this is a rare cream that can remove any skin imperfection, but for you, my fine gentleman, I'll lower the price to 200 gp!"

"Two hundred gold pieces for that tiny bottle!?!"

"Well, it is Mommy's kiss, after all."

"Sorry, but I'll have to pass."

"But I'll take the healer's kit," Volta said.

"And I'll take five arrows," Portia said.

"Why does the Great axe cost 30gp?!?" Lucio asked.

"But I only have 10!!!" Vulgora said, "How can we get the money?!?"

"Well, if you go to the Saint Milu, you'll get some money," you said.

"Ughh, fine..."

"Excuse me, sir," Valdemar leaned to the shopkeeper who nervously sweated, "Do you, by any chance, sell bones of the humanoids?"

"Eek!" the shopkeeper said.

"Okay, so, Valdemar, the shopkeeper is terrified of you," you started, "Because of that, you have an advantage on rolling intimidation check. So if you want to force them to give you something, feel free to try."

"Oh, how fun," Valdemar's eyes glowed with joy, "Are there any scrolls here?"

"I, I do have some scrolls," he said, visibly shaking.

"I'll take the one with the inflict wounds spell," they said.

You threw two d20 at them, "Roll them, the AC is 15."

They rolled the dice, where one dice landed on 4 while the other one on 14.

"Is your intimidation at least +1?"

They took a glance at the skills table and gave you a toothy grin.

"You got the scroll, however, the shopkeeper told you to get out or else he'll call the guards."

"Too bad. Looks like you're not going to get Mommy's kiss, Ilyushka!"

"Fear not, we're going to find you Mommy's kiss in some other shop," Lucio said, laughing mid-sentence.

"So, because Muriel has a keen mind feat, he leads all of you north."

"You go Muri!" Portia cheered.

"...Thanks."

Read the whole chapter here

#the arcana #the arcana courtiers #the arcana main 6 #valdemar #vulgora #vlastomil #volta #valerius #consul valerius #the arcana lucio #the arcana asra #the arcana nadia #the arcana portia #the arcana julian #the arcana muriel #the arcana headcanons #the arcana imagines

33 notes · View notes

wolfpawn · 4 years

Text

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 148

Chapter Summary - Tom realises something is slightly off with Danielle but it seems even she is not focusing on it.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

So the spoons story Tom revealed before on a chat show.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1 @black-ninja-blade

Tom knew within a few minutes of Danielle's company on his return that his suspicions were correct. Something was bothering her and she did not seem set to share it. It was peculiar, it was as though whatever it was, she was actively seeking to avoid and work around it herself. He watched as she tried to force herself to speak to him as she usually did but there was also a peculiar sense to her too. He tried to make her feel like she could speak to him but she continued to say nothing. She smiled and spoke as close to normal as she could muster, but there was a strain in it for her.

She told him of everything she had to do for the documentation, she showed him who was involved, several of the names were world-leading experts apparently. She mentioned that if she had thought Waters and Safeguard were something to note, this was several times more impressive. When he asked her if there was a possibility of her getting her name in with bigger companies, perhaps set the groundwork for when she would be done with her contract with Safeguard, she nodded and said that if it went well, she could get a job with anyone she wanted and name her price.

Then she explained her triathlon training. To say it was going to be intense was an understatement. Tom stared open-mouthed at the sheer amount of hours a week she was now going to dedicate to training after months of her barely even getting a jog some weeks. She told him of the races she would be doing as a build-up to the main event and that she had already booked her room for the weekend in the small and apparently, going by the pictures she showed him on her phone, beautiful Welsh seaside town. She informed him it was a double room and booked for two and that she hoped he could make it but she understood if he would have work commitments. Whatever it was that was bothering her, he was relieved to see that it did not concern her in a way that meant she foresaw a situation of them not being together in September.

What he noticed more than anything was that Danielle refused to sit still and simply relax. Even when he was not around her and walked into a room she was in, she had the radio on. That was noteworthy in itself, usually, she just chose some album or shuffle to listen to but by actively seeking the radio, she was avoiding her own music. He noted that the radio channels of choice were Irish, or what he assumed to be Irish at least as it was in a language he did not know and the music all seemed to be traditional Irish music, which he knew from his lock-in in Camden where he was forced to learn the spoons to be allowed stay drinking with his friends, or more often, Irish bands and singers. He listened and attempted to at least figure out the gist what was being said, but it was impossible, Irish was not even derived from Latin like a large number of European languages, so nothing made an ounce of sense.

He walked into the kitchen three days after his return with Luke to discuss more work to see Danielle's phone on the worktop and hearing the peculiar language before spotting Danielle filling the bird feeders in the garden.

'What is that?’ Luke asked pointing to Danielle's phone.

'Did you know that when Danielle was small, she never spoke English in her home, that she only started learning it when she was five-years-old in school?’ Tom stated.

'But Ireland speaks English? That's its language.’

'Yes and no. The first language of most Irish people is English but in small pockets of Ireland, such as Connemara, Elle's area, Irish is the first and often the only language spoken.’ Tom beamed.

'So she knows what's being said?’ Luke pointed to the phone and Tom nodded. 'Do you know any of it?’

'Not really, I figured out a word that more than likely means hospital and I know that the HSE was the Irish equivalent of the NHS, so them being so close together was something I was able to work out. Some of the reports are in English, though some of the politicians seem to know a lot of Irish too so I don't always know what's going on. Apparently, they have a huge referendum this month.’ Tom rambled.

Luke just looked at him blankly with no idea as to how to respond to such a statement. Before he could retort in any manner, the dogs and Danielle came back inside. 'Hey.’ She smiled as she walked over and turned off the radio app on her phone. 'How are you gentlemen today? Tea?’

‘I have it there.’ Tom smiled back at her. 'How was the run?’

'Fine, our friend was out to annoy us again.’ She informed him, referencing the photographer that seemed to all but live in Belsize to irritate the celebrities who called the area home. ‘Bobby needs a walk later, I brought Mac with me for the run, could you do it?’

'Sure.’ Tom was slightly startled by her request. It often happened that if one of them was going for a run, they would take Mac with them and the other would walk Bobby later as the pup was not old enough yet to jog with them, but the way she asked him confused him slightly. 'Are you busy, we could do it together?’

'I am going to the office in a minute, I want to sort something.’ She explained. 'I want to get some files, I plan on a solid four hours tomorrow after the pool.’

'Should you be going this intensely already?’

'Tom, I am late getting started and I have not even gotten my bike yet. I will have to see about fitting in some bike time then too and then all three together. I guess that's a good thing about the summer on the coast, I can put all three together there.’

‘What’s this then?’ Luke asked curiously, noting Tom's downtrodden demeanour and Danielle's seemingly mad training schedule.

'I am doing an Ironman in September, so I have to start my training now to be ready.’ She explained.

'Ironman?’

'A swim, then bike, then running competition.’ Danielle explained.

'Sounds exhausting. Rather you than me.’ He retorted. 'Tom told me about your other work also, congratulations, you will be incredibly busy.’

'Yes, it'll be balls to the wall for a while but it's a good way to be. I like being busy when possible.’

'Just as long as you look after yourself, I read injuries are commonplace in training from overdoing it.’ Tom warned.

'I know, Love. Plenty of rest is a big part, thankfully it exhausts you so as soon as I hit the pillows at night, I will more than likely conk.’ She smiled and grabbed her phone. 'I better head to the office, I'll leave the car here and talk to you later, okay?’ She leant up and kissed Tom's cheek. 'There is dinner in the fridge, easy to heat up and sort.’

'Won't you be home for it?’ He asked. 'I can hold off?’

'Don't worry yourself. I'll heat mine when I get back.’ She turned to Luke. 'Thanks for everything at the premiere, I forgot to say. It helped.’

'Of course, that's what I'm here for.’

'I am fairly sure your mother didn't bring you into the world to be Tom's babysitter and to console his girlfriend at an event but okay.’ She joked. 'But, in all seriousness, thank you. I hope I didn't cause you any trouble.’

'No, you didn't. Nothing of the sort, as usual with reference to you, you were nothing short of a dream to deal with. Bar the angry few that still have not realised Tom is a living breathing human being with his own life, once again, you have unanimous praise.’

‘Good, I will endeavour to keep it that way.’ She walked over to Tom. 'Almost forgot.’ She leant up and gave him a kiss. 'Don't go mad in my absence.’

‘Don’t worry, I'll clean it if we do.’

'Oh, I know you will, that's not the reason for my statement.’ Danielle laughed.

'Then what is?’ He questioned curiously.

'I just don't want to miss the fun.’ She smiled as she left the room.

Luke chuckled at her statement before looking at Tom. 'Is everything okay?’

'I don't know. I think something is going on with Danielle.’

'She seems her usual witty self to me but I don't live with her, so I can't say for sure. When did you seem to notice?’

'The premiere.’

'In what way?’

'She's stacking her schedule with work again, making sure she has so much to do all the time and she seems just...off. I can't explain it. She seems like something is bothering her and she is trying to ignore it.’

‘Does she often listen to Irish radio?’

'Apparently, she's been doing it all along and I never knew.’

'Parents birthdays or death anniversaries?’

‘Her mum's was back in January, her father's is next month and birthdays are a little off yet.’ He scanned his mind for the dates he knew meant something more to Danielle.

'I don't know what to say, maybe she is homesick or perhaps she is town weary. A few days in Suffolk will do her good, as will the summer by the sea.’

‘Am I thinking too much into it?’ Tom asked.

'Honestly, I can't stay, but I will say that the best thing to do is air your worries. You two work well together, don't hold that in but also respect that Danielle is not some dependent woman, she is very much her own, driven person. Career advancement and personal goals for her have to be done at a time that suits her, not anyone else. The career thing, she cannot help, that is being steamrolled from elsewhere and regarding her sports thing, it is in the statement you released last year, in papers, online, that she is accomplished at it so this is not completely out of place and at thirty-one, she has to think of her age, her health and the very real possibility that if you two continue as you do, there is going to be a time soon that she will have to forego such goals if you decide to get married and have children. If this is something wants and it will all be done and dusted come September, personally I see it as unreasonable to be irked by it. You both have things you like.’

'She is training several times a week. She went from barely time for a jog to several times a week.’ Tom argued. 'Ten hours rising to fifteen closer the time, it's madness.’

'I agree it's probably a form of madness, as well as a level of dedication that most would never have but in all fairness, she is ambitious in her personal goals, that is something that you have said many times appeals to you about her.’ Tom said nothing back. 'You're concerned that there is no place for you in this, aren't you?’

'She seems to be making little time for us.’

'Have you asked to join her for some of this training, you run, she'll be running, that's something. You could get a bike or swim also.’

'You have no idea what an Ironman is, do you?’

'No why?’

'Google it, Google Ironman distances.’ Luke did as Tom suggested and his eyes widened as his mind computed the words in front of him. 'Bar asking if she has received a sharp blow to the head recently to willingly choose to do this, I don't know what to say.’

Tom did not know how to respond either.

#i hate you i love you #chapter 148 #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #wolfpawn

12 notes · View notes

shirtlesssammy · 5 years

Text

15x03: The Rupture

Then:

Long Live the Queen

Now:

We start right where we left off. Hunters are guarding the failing perimeter, while our team heads back to the crypt to perform Rowena’s spell. They set to salting the place while Rowena casts her spell. It starts to reinforce the barrier, but then things start to flicker and Rowena is knocked back in a blast. The spell didn’t work.

There are too many ghosts and they’re too strong. Dean suggests killing as many ghosts as possible before the wall falls, but Rowena scoffs at the idea. Belphegor walks off and Cas follows him. Dean gets all soldier mode and starts yelling about not giving up.

*Samwitch Alert* Sam, ever the mediator, hunkers down next to Rowena to ask if she needs anything. He rests his hand gently on her shoulder and they share meaningful looks.

Meanwhile, Bel and Cas wander the graveyard. Bel tells Cas, “You can’t even look at me.” Put a pin in that comment. They wander to the hell mouth.

Sam and Dean discuss strategy. Dean’s pissed at God. (*AHEM*). He’s not going down without a fight. Sam is distracted, staring at a lovely framed Rowena looking at the Book of the Damned.

Bel has an idea. He suggests finding Lilith’s Crook, a horn Lilith used to keep order with all the demons in Hell that she sent to Earth.

If they get it and use it, they can draw all the ghosts and demons that are now topside, back to Hell. Rowena has a spell of her own devising to close the hole in the ground. (Crack thought: This is a healing spell. Maybe she’ll use it on herself to heal her own wound.) The spell only takes a couple ingredients, and she’ll need an assistant. She says this while looking at Cas, but then says, “Dibs on Samuel.” Lololololol. That’s right, girl, he’s all yours.

Someone will also have to lob the spell bomb over the edge of the tear. Belphegor then pipes up asking for help in Hell. “I want protection. Muscle.” Without a beat, Dean responds, “Yeah, Cas’ll go.” And Cas’s look of WTF sums things up quite nicely. Cas has been to Hell before. I mean, yes, uurgh, saving your sorry ass from it, Dean (ok, I’m on no Dean hate-train but it’s easy to lash back at him when he’s being this way.) “Well, it sounds like I don’t have a choice.” I feel like all three members of Team Free Will uttered something along those lines tonight and I’m not well. Dean says, “Go team.” There’s no free will in this house.

Ketch is still in the hospital and is visited by the demon, Ardat. Things don’t go well. (Remember in Temple of Doom when they ripped a still beating heart out of someone and an entire film industry created a whole new rating because of it? Now they’re just showing this shit on network TV at 7pm. What a time to be alive.) (Also, good riddance Ketch. You killed Eileen and I’ll never forgive you.)

Belphegor continues to needle Cas with the idea that he’s not wanted by the Winchesters. Cas tries to ignore him. Cas asks how they get down there. Belphegor isn’t sure and walks closer to the edge to look over. Cas pushes him over the edge and a good time was had by all. Cas jumping in after him, not so much fun.

Bleached hair hunter (what’s her name, she seems cool and I hope she sticks around) shows up with all the spell ingredients for Rowena. Dean reveals that he DOES know about Harry Potter.

Dean hears from Ketch, but it’s not Ketch, and Dean spills their entire plan to Ardat. Question: If Castiel is spelled with one ‘s’ but his nickname is spelled ‘Cass’, why wouldn’t Belphegor’s nickname be ‘Bell’? (Why yes, I do like to rehash centuries old fandom sticking points.)

Cas and Belphegor wander around a very quiet Hell. Everyone is topside apparently.

Belphegor tells Cas that he thinks he’s growing on Sam and Dean, “like a cancer.” Cas tells him that they’re using him and that he shouldn’t mistake that for care (AAGHH, stop). They find Lilith’s vault.

Inside the vault, they discover a demon happily looting the place. He greets Belphegor cheerfully. Looting is fun! When the other demon doesn’t have the horn, however, Cas kills him immediately. Cas is SO DONE. Belphegor leads Cas to the box containing Lilith’s crook and we learn that it’s warded by an Enochian hymn praising Lucifer. How very on brand for Lilith! She was also the only one who could read Enochian so, Belphegor points out, it’s a damn convenient thing that Cas came along on this trip to Hell.

Cas tries to recite the incantation on the box but it fails. Belphegor points out that perhaps it ought to be sung. We as a fandom are then ROBBED of Misha singing the entire incantation. (CC: Shaving people punting things? After a suitable mourning period, of course.)

Dean sets up next to the Hell pit while inside, Sam’s torn between fighting alongside his brother and performing the quieter (but essential) magics inside. THIS SCENE -- this tiny line represents so much of what I hope for Sam’s journey this season. That he’s described as a witch by Rowena, that he’s GOOD at this and leadership… There’s so much potential just waiting below the surface for Sam to give voice and form. “And magic isn’t fighting?” Rowena asks him as he frets. “[Dean’s] doing his part; it’s time for you to do yours.” GUH

In Hell, Cas pulls out the crook. It is indeed a sheep’s horn. He’s about to hand it over when he’s tossed across the room. It’s Ardat! She’s been onto Belphegor since the gates flew open, suspecting that he’d try to take over Hell. Cas and Ardat fight, Ardat arguing that Belphegor’s aspirations are much higher than he lets on. Belphegor kills Ardat and Cas confronts him about her claims. Belphegor laughs and then casts Cas from the vault.

He crows over his victory to Cas. The crook is a siphon that can pull all the souls into him, giving him godlike power. Cas realizes that every move by Belphegor has been carefully planned to somehow get Cas down to Hell with him to open the chest and get him the horn. WHERPS. As Belphegor blows the horn, the Earth and Hell resonate with it. Cas struggles against a forceful wind to try to get back into the vault and stop Belphegor.

For That Shirt Barely Survived Science

In the crypt, Sam and Rowena join hands and start the spell.

They chant together. Sam turns away for a moment to look towards the door, no doubt wondering what’s going on outside. Rowena calls him to task with a gentle smile and “Sam.” GUH that’s what finally broke me. (Boris has always been the more ardent Samwitch shipper but this gentle remonstrance really did me in.) The spell ignites. Dean’s hex bag glows and he hurls it into the pit. Belphegor fills with souls. It’s happening! All the things!

And then Cas tackles Belphegor and the horn ceases abruptly. He punches Belphegor again and again. (It has been a VERY trying couple of days.)

Upstairs, something’s wrong. The rift continues to crumble but Rowena looks…afraid.

Cas is interrupted from punching Belphegor by the demon pleading for mercy in Jack’s voice. “It’s me. Jack.” UGH fucking demons. Cas is visibly tormented by this. He spreads his hand, hesitates, then summons his grace. It...FLICKERS. (Ruh roh) Still, it ignites enough for him to press his palm to Belphegor’s forehead - to Jack’s forehead - and smite him. (Ever since that Shaving people promo, I’ve been expecting Jacks’ body to burn but I never imagined that Cas would have had to be the one to do it. What a horrible, traumatic thing. Excuse me while I wrap Cas in a blanket, then myself, then Boris, then all of you readers.) (Boris: *crying noise, crying noise*)

Sam and Dean compare notes over the phone. The crack is closing but “something doesn’t feel right.” That old hunter instinct is correct, because things are about to get even worse. Rowena wanders across the room while Sam is on the phone. He looks over in time to see her STAB HERSELF in the shoulder. She pulls out her resurrection sachet. “Won’t need that where I’m going.”

Rowena bitterly explains that they’ve bungled their last option. Or, penultimate option. There’s one more spell she can use to contain the souls. “Death is an infinite vessel,” she explains. “It draws its power from its caster.” Tears linger on her cheeks as she reveals that there are only two ingredients: her “still-coursing blood and the last is my final breath.” She’ll absorb all the spirits and after a time, her body will break down and release them all to Hell where they belong. (She will also, of course, be trapped there AND dead which SUCKS BIG TIME.)

Sam tries to talk her out of it but she doubles down. She needs to die and Sam’s the one who must do it. “My real, permanent demise is in your hands. It’s in Death’s books.” Sam tries the “screw fate” argument on her but it doesn’t fly.

Outside, Cas reemerges from the pit and Dean confronts him about the shaky spell. Cas explains that he had to kill Belphegor and the crook was destroyed, and Dean handles it with his customary grace. JK Dean flips the fuck out.

Rowena says something incredibly intriguing to me, then. Rowena tells Sam that she wouldn’t kill herself for the sake of anybody, but she would do it for prophecy. For magic, to which she’s devoted her life. (I’m looking directly at Billie here, who chose to reveal the agent of Rowena’s demise to her. Who MEDDLED and helped bring this about. Billie! What’s your game? Call me!) Sam tries to pull away from Rowena, who has gripped his hand and pressed the knife to her gut. “We’ve gotten quite fond of each other, haven’t we?” she asks and places a friendly hand on his shoulder. I’d love to write that suddenly PUPPIES ran into the crypt and they played with them for the rest of the episode but…

Rowena tearfully commands Sam to kill her, weighing her life against the fate of the world and the survival of Dean. She pushes AAAALLL of Sam’s buttons. Sam embraces her and stabs her right in the gut at the same time. She forces him to look her in the eyes afterward. “That’s my boy,” she tells him and I take a crying break from this recap because this performance is too goddamn much.

And just like that, the first ingredient is in play. Rowena walks from the crypt in her flowing pink gown like a stained rose and souls fly into her. She strides to the edge of the pit and looks at Team Free Will one last time before saying, “Goodbye, boys.” She throws herself down into the depths of Hell. The ground seals behind her. It’s done.

For Buffy Summers “Death is your gift” Science

In the bunker Dean’s footsteps echo down an empty hallway. He checks in on Sam, who’s sitting sorrowfully in his room. Sam brushes away tears before turning to face Dean and I’m basically dead right now.

Dean drops a quick recap: the town is safe, Hell is closed, Ketch is dead. Dean tries to rally Sam. They beat Chuck’s final apocalypse. Hooray?

Afterwards, Dean throws a giant taco party for all their hunter friends. JUST KIDDING! Dean drinks hard liquor alone in the library when Cas comes in.

Cas asks how Sam’s doing and Dean is just…so angry. Dean asks Cas why he didn’t stick to the plan. Cas defends his decisions. “Something always goes wrong.”

Dean rejoins with: “Why does that something always seem to be you,” and I’m feeling sudden empathy for Ketch, for I have also just had my heart ripped out of my chest and held, still beating, up to my face.

“You used to trust me. Give me the benefit of the doubt.” But that’s no longer the case. Cas winds through the issue quickly, with spare words. He’s tried to talk to Dean about what he’s going through, about his failing powers, but Dean freezes him out. Dean still blames him for Mary’s death. Cas realizes it now fully, perhaps. He is DEAD to Dean. This is all delivered so softly. So TERRIBLY softly.

Dean meets this all with utter silence. He is so emotionally shut down, he can’t even shout anymore. There are no broken lamps. It’s just one non-functioning Dean with no words and bare flickers of eye contact.

“I don’t think there’s anything left to say,” Cas concludes and turns to go.

Finally, Dean speaks. “Where you going?”

“Jack’s dead. Chuck is gone. You and Sam have each other. I think it’s time for me to move on.” Dean speaks not a word, doesn’t move a muscle, and Castiel turns and walks out the door. And just like that, Team Free Will fractures.

We’re back to Sam and Dean against the world, and doesn’t everybody just…feel great?

______________________________

Oh, My Still-Beating Quotes:

Get me close to the epicenter, find me a nice protected ghost free space. I’ll patch those crumbling walls right up and we’ll all be home for high tea.

I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let some glorified fanboy get the last word

To put it in American action movie terms, you’ll be carrying the bomb, I light the fuse, you toss it in

Oh Cas, your voice, it’s like an angel

I’ll be a god. Or, you know, close enough

I know this in my bones. It has to be this way.

I know we’ve gotten quite fond of each other, haven’t we?

______________________________

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #spn 15x03 #the rupture #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas #rowena macleod #belphegor #arthur ketch #supernatural season 15

86 notes · View notes