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caesthetix · 3 years

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KIDS IN LOVE — Pt. 1 No Beauty In War

↪Porco Galliard mini-series

↪content; major character death, canon universe, description of violence, unrequited love, admiring from afar, season 4 spoiler, manga spoiler 119

War was cruel and he tried to push you away from it.

Everything used to be so easy before. When your routine was just sending cookies and cupcakes to the Galliards, when your concern was just the blush on Porco's face when Pieck was around, when what you knew was that the Island of Paradis filled with demons.

How beautiful the world was before, for you to have such a mundane life.

You wished you could go back to that time.

"Hey, Pock."

He groaned once the nickname slipped from your lips, making you chuckle in the process with how easy it was to make him agitated. And for that, you really needed to thank Pieck later. "Pock, Pock~ Why don't you look at me~?"

"Seriously, you are such a kid." He grumbled, irritated with how you were just here only to annoy him. Your feet dangling on the tree stump where you sat on. "Why don't you go home? Just drop your cookies to my mom instead of being here doing nothing."

"Well, I am a kid!" You exclaimed. "And what's wrong with being here? I want to hang out for a while." With you, but you bite your tongue to hold that thought from reaching the surface.

The blonde just shrugged and continued his chore, chopping down some of the wood into halves. He was always groaning so loud as he did so, as if he put all of his energy into that. You knew better though, he was more than capable of cutting down a few kinds of wood with a meagre strength.

And knowing that he had changed into a colder person since Marcel embarked on the mission in Paradis, you needed to be extra careful with him.

"Hey, Porco." You called out once again, fingers fiddling with the bag of cookies in your hand.

"What?" He answered nonetheless, despite the annoyance that was dripping in his tone.

You pondered if it was the right thing to ask. But you have made up your mind, the thought had been haunting you for perhaps months now, making you restless at the point it was hard for you to sleep. So you couldn't back down, you need to know of a way.

"Who usually is needed in a war except, well, warriors?"

He stopped his axe midair as the question slipped from your lips, putting it down slowly before giving his full attention to you. You flinched, trying to act as calm as ever under his wandering gaze. His lips shaped into a thin line, eyes scrutinizing your face.

"There are medics, of course." He stated, though somehow he sounded careful as he shared the information. "Doctors, nurses, we all need any kind of help within that field. Then there was a researcher, professor, you know — geniuses."

You nodded, pondering if you could be in one of the fields. Perhaps nurses, yes, you just needed to know all the basics, working alongside doctors. But you didn't know if you could start to be a dependable nurse at the same time Porco would go on a mission.

"And chef."

Your eyes immediately lit up at his last statement. "Warriors and others need food too." Good. Cooking was something that you could do. You even knew that Porco loved some of the cuisines that you made, from how he always asked for a second when the Galliard had dinner at your house.

Deep in thought, you didn't see how his eyes filled with horror at the realisation.

"Then, what can I do to be enlisted in a war?" You looked up, now with confidence in your voice.

"Huh?"

"Tell me, Porco. You must know information like this, right?" You slightly begged, softening your eyes to push down the eagerness on your gesture. "I want to join you, to be there beside you when we win and for us to get our freedom." You rambled on, but your friend just stayed put in his place without saying anything. "Porco—"

"You think war is a game for you?" His voice was low, making your pupils dilated at the bitterness in it. "War needs someone braver, not just someone with a mindless dream like you." You didn't know what was in his head right now, but this side of him scared you.

Porco took a few steps forward, now just inches away from where you sat. His eyes glowering down at you with disgust, you couldn't help but let out a small whimper. "You think your burnt cookies and mediocre food could please the higher-ups? You think a weak kid like you could survive more than an hour on the battlefield?"

"I am not weak." You answered as stern as possible, ignoring the crack in your voice as you challenged his gaze. His eyes twitched at your reply before seething in anger at your words.

As if something snapped within him, he grabbed your wrist and raised it abruptly, so fast that you couldn't hold your grasp on the bag of cookies. You gasped as the crumbs scattered on the ground, but you couldn't move to save it as his hand tightened. "Porco, let me go—"

"See? You are weak." It felt so brutal at the reminder. "I am here gripping your wrist with a little force and you are already cowering like a kid." He smirked, but it was not the same smirk that he usually had when he teased you. "Oh, yeah, you are a kid." He wrecked you, slapping the fact on your face. "And a kid like you will die in a war."

He gritted out every word with mockery. You knew that being a part of the war meant that you had to be more assertive, braver. But wouldn't everyone work together to win the war? If one of the warriors was in need of assistance, wouldn't they help each other?

But Porco being Porco, he knew what clouded your mind. "Never think that someone would save you. Not even me. You know why?" His face grew closer at the point you could feel his hot breath on your face, making you suck your breath. "Because you are not worth saving."

You kicked him with all of your might, turning your face in another direction as you jumped down from the tree stump and ran. You didn't want him to see the tears threatening to fall, you didn't want to give him the satisfaction that his words impacted you deeply that you knew it would leave a scar on your heart.

"You go, kid! Run!" You heard him shout. "Do the only thing that a kid could do! Run!"

Yes, you were running away from him. But as you run, you balled your hand into a fist.

You promised that someday you were going to prove to him that you were not just a useless kid.

War was an endless nightmare, and how everything turned out in front of you became a reminder of what it was capable to do.

You heard the scream, a familiar scream that threatens to tear your eardrums. It was Zeke, that howl belonged to the beast titan. And just like that, you could see all the glows around you. One, two, no, you couldn't count how many of the Eldians in Paradis rapidly turned into titans. The city lit up with almost everyone becoming a monster inside their blood.

As you lay low on the tall building, you wiped your eyes from the dust and dirt, wanting to see more clearly of the condition in the battlefield below you. You gasped when you saw two familiar light blondes that belonged to the Grice brothers.

He glowed, Falco's body covered with a yellowish light. That was when you realised what was going to happen. The boy might have ingested Zeke's spinal fluid, and from the range he stood right now, the power inside him would be activated.

That little kid had so much in his future, and you wondered if he ever told Gabi about his feelings. And now, he was going to be a titan.

But your eyes watered even more when you saw as Colt stayed still, he was there hugging his little brother, not caring anymore that it would kill him in the process.

"Colt—"

You cracked your neck to the left and right, stretching your limbs as you let the tiredness start to sink in. Today, you were helping Niccolo to feed the Eldians warriors, saying that it would be a good time too to get to know some of the warriors who fought for Marley.

Ever since you received the invitation from Commander Magath, you had been working nonstop. He praised your skills in knowing nutrition and your capability of making a personal menu for each warrior, informing you that you would be a good addition to the military.

There was no time to slack off, you sharpened your mind and tried a lot of new recipes that could please the warriors while sticking to their diet.

"Hey, you can go there, you know? Some of them asked to meet the new chef behind their, let me quote, magnificent food." You snorted as Niccolo cleaned his hands with the towel. "Take off your apron and flaunt! You are only young once."

"You are young too, remember that?" You chuckled at his remark. For a pure Marleyan, you were surprised that he didn't look down at you. He respected your skills, not caring that you were an Eldian, and treated you like you were family most of the time. "But okay, I will take your advice."

Cleaning your hand and taking off your apron, you looked at the small mirror in the kitchen to make sure that you look proper. You heard a chuckle from your friend, somehow knowing that you were always a worrywart when it came to how people looked at you.

"You look fine, just go on, they are begging to meet you."

"Alright, alright you impatient old man."

You ignored the surprised gasp from him and went outside to the room where he assigned the warriors to. To say that you were nervous would be an understatement, you were afraid that you would flinch or ended up being too timid.

No, you were not a kid anymore. A few intimidating warriors wouldn't make you crumble.

You heard a loud chatter as you stood in front of the door. It was wrong to eavesdrop, but when you heard someone mention how good your cook was, your heart swelled with appreciation. Alright, that was enough, it would be better if you announced yourself.

Knock knock knock.

You heard a shout telling you to come in, and you didn't waste your time over it. The second you came in and closed the door behind you, you straightened your posture and gave them a small bow.

"See? Now you owe me another meal here."

"It's a young woman, I did not expect that."

"Wait, (Y/n)?"

In between all of the noises from the men, who apparently made a bet about how the chef would look, you heard a feminine voice coming from one of the chairs. Your eyes fleeting towards their direction, finding a woman with slightly dishevelled black hair and relaxed eyes.

"Huh?" You blinked, recognition dawned upon you. Then your eyes widened. "Pieck?"

Your hands were sweating as you tried to lock your gaze on her. She blinked as she saw the distress in your eyes, yet you kept staring at her. If she was here, then that would mean one thing.

Porco was here too.

Well, that explained the feeling of someone glaring a hole in your skull.

"Pieck, you know her?" Someone spoke up, it was the same man whose voice you recognised praising your food before. Before she could answer, he walked toward you with a giddy step, a soft smile plastered on his face as he extended your hand for you to shake. "Name's Colt, Colt Grice."

His presence brought you back to reality. You were here to impress them, a ghost from the past could be taken care of later. Shaking his hand, you gave him a polite smile as you looked at him with your warm gaze. You tried not to think too much about the blush on his face at the moment.

You still could feel someone drilling holes in your direction. The man in front of you seemed not to notice. Colt was saying a lot of things to you. He ignored some groan in the background about how he was taking all of your attention, he continued praising your food and how everyone didn't expect to see a beautiful young woman to be the one behind their marvellous food today.

"I thank Commander Magath for assigning you to the military branch."

Someone stood up abruptly from their chair, making you flinch a little before composing yourself in a second. Both you and Colt, interrupted from the light conversation from before, now focused on the commotion behind you. There you saw a man with his gaze darkened, hands gripping tight on the side of the table. His friends were worried about his drastic gesture.

"Hey, Porco, are you alright?"

But his flaming eyes never left your face.

The aftermath of the titans' transformation was hell. All of the warriors were scrambling around to save themselves, only resulting in a delayed death. Their end was impending, and yet they were all wriggling and running, fighting for their own life.

Your gaze was still fixated on the spot where the brothers stood before. It was as if there were hundreds of bombs that detonated at the same time and now your vision filled with dust and rubble, blinding you from what was happening.

You whimpered as dried tears stained your cheek. For the past few hours, you have cried so much as you saw the cruelty of war. But Colt, oh, Colt — a man who was too good for this world, someone who cared deeply for his brother, someone who always hyped you up even when your old friend seemed to try to kick you out from the military.

War was evil, that was what Porco always tried to say to you. And yet here you were, in the middle of it all, watching how your race tried to kill each other. Watching; how your comrades died one by one in the most gruesome way.

No, there was still Porco. You still had Porco, Pieck, and Reiner. You couldn't see where the jaw titan was before, unlike the others. The last time you saw him was when he worked side by side with Reiner before all the debris concealed your vision from the event under you.

But as your vision finally cleared, you felt like someone just shot you through your chest.

"No. No."

A titan tried to eat Reiner. His jaw was fixated on the Armored Titan's nape. Somehow the titan looked familiar, and your eyes widened when you connected the missing puzzle.

It was Falco, and you didn't dare to look around, feeling sure that Colt was gone for certain from how close he was with his brother when he transformed.

Searching through the battlefield, you squint your eyes, trying to understand what was happening right now. Then you saw it, the jaw titan. Porco's titan. Laying idly on the ground not too far from Reiner.

Then just like that, you were reminded of how cruel war could be.

Falco's titan retracted his jaw from Reiner's nape. His long neck whipped to the side, murderous eyes locked to a new prey that was out in the open. A human flesh, without anything concealing them.

It was him, Porco, your old friend, the one who never wanted you to be here in the first place. Half of his face was gone from the impact that he took as a titan. You couldn't hear what he said as he walked to where Falco and Reiner were.

Everything happened so fast after that, yet you could catch every detail of how it took place.

You watched as he just accepted his fate, the pace that he chose was slow, though certain as he was ready to embrace death. He didn't scream, he didn't do anything as Falco's titan ran towards him, with one goal to devour him alive.

That was what he always did, saving children and comrades.

No matter how many humans he killed, no matter how his face often turned into a scowl for certain people, he was always the same Porco Galliard who would prioritize kids and his friends. He never changed. No, that was wrong. He did change.

But even though he changed, he had become a better man for every day that went by.

You couldn't hear anything as your eyes never left the nightmare in front of you. All the bodies that scattered around the ground, your comrades, fellow Eldians from Marley, even some citizens that you met here in Paradis, and Colt. Their deaths would be imprinted forever in your head.

Porco was right after all, just like usual, maybe this was why he didn't want you to be here. There were so many times he would pull you to the side after a meeting, just to tell you about the terror that followed in war. He told you about the horror inside the dead bodies, bloodshed, and screams that flew nonstop.

He tried so hard to show you that war was something that couldn't be stopped. That one day all of your comrades would die, some couldn't be recognised anymore, and neither would you. After all the war that you had been through before, you kept looking forward and never let yourself linger for a long time.

You always shrugged it off before, knowing for certain what you were signed up to. Of course, there was no beauty in war, you even knew there was no winning side at the end of the day. Just people who died on the battlefield, and those who survived.

Every time you imagine what war looks like, you were always ready. No matter how many deaths that you have seen, your eyes kept fixated on the freedom that would follow soon.

But perhaps, it was not the war itself that he deterred you from stumbling in — it was this.

Your hand clasped your mouth as you let the dam break, new tears replacing the previous stains that were glued on your face. Falco's titan crashed to the ground as he had Porco's body in between its teeth. You wanted to scream out, but you couldn't, or else the titans surrounding you would eat you alive.

The worlds crumbled the second you knew there was no tomorrow for Porco.

He was gone, half of his body swallowed down in an instant. And you could do nothing except push down your pain and hide yourself even further inside the rumbles where you hid.

You tried to calm down as you processed what happened. There he goes, he leaves and wouldn't come back. Your heart was racing and not from a reason that you wanted to remember. You felt like you couldn't breathe as you realised — that was the last time for you to take a look at your dearest friend.

And you would never have a chance to tell him.

Neither of how right he was about war.

Nor how beautiful he was in your eyes.

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yeochikin · 4 years

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sick days. | j. yunho

a/n: phew i finally did it! this is a sequel to this fic but this can also be read as its own too! i won’t lie, i had so much trouble writing this. the amount of times i typed then erased then typed over and over again was a huge struggle for me in the past week, so i understand if this fic seemed a little... blegh ;;;; writer’s block sucks but it’s alright, i enjoyed writing it anyway hehe hope you enjoyed this. do excuse any mistakes as this has not been proofread ✨💖

word count: 3k+

main focus: yunho x fem. reader

warning(s): none, i think!

“tell me i'm hot.”

“yeah, you're hot, yunho.”

“aye.”

“you have a fever.”

“aye?”

“say ‘aye’ one more time, and i’m gonna stab you with my paintbrush.”

“aye!”

your eye twitched at his answer, showing him the temperature you had taken for him. the boy in question, who was currently laid all tucked in bed with a wet cloth on his forehead, merely gave you a bright smile despite his face looking all flushed. sometimes, you wondered whether your roommate was literally a golden retriever in his past life who got reincarnated into a human, but still somehow having the energetic personality following his next life.

“little rose, you're gonna catch my fever too. i can take care of myself.” he protested, watching as you gathered the empty ceramic bowl that was previously filled with yunho's favourite soup, mentally thanking seonghwa in your head for the recipe he gave earlier, promptly placing it onto the wooden tray you left on his bedside drawer.

“pup, you know i have a stronger immune system between the two of us. i'll be fine.” you retorted, causing the sick boy to jut his lower lip out into a little sulky pout.

“you're lucky you're cute, pup.” you grumbled, moving the cloth away to feel at his forehead, the playful glare in your eyes melting into a soft gaze. you couldn’t stay mad at him, even if you tried. luckily, his skin wasn't burning as much as before, though the pinkness in his cheeks were still present.

everything seemed like a blur today. all he remembered was trying to get up from the bed but for some reason, yunho felt as if someone had dumped a huge pile of bricks on top of his body while someone kept hitting his head with a hammer. he was lucky that you came into his room to wake him up as soon as his best friend, mingi, called you up to ask where the peachy haired boy was since he couldn't reach him for some reason. that's when you know something was up.

of course, panic started to fill your entire being as soon as you saw how flushed his cheeks looked upon entering the room, along with him shivering underneath his blanket. you immediately went to his side as you phoned your other friends to tell them what was happening. it didn't take long for yunho to be dragged away from the bed by mingi, and jongho (mainly jongho) just so seonghwa could drive them to the doctor's, despite yunho mumbling that he's fine to which he was absolutely not fine at all.

you were thankful that it wasn't that serious, but nevertheless, yunho still received an earful of scolding from you for not taking care of himself more, as if seonghwa’s nagging wasn't enough.

so now here he is, laying still on the bed as his eyes blinked slowly before his lips lazily curled up into a grin towards you once he felt your palm resting against his forehead. the dazed look in his eyes was already a sign of the medicine he took earlier slowly kicking in. noticing how droopy his eyes were, you made sure the blankets were properly tucked on him.

“rest, pup. by the time you wake up, it will be when i wake you up for dinner so you can take your meds.” you hushed him, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

poor boy only grunted in response, finally giving up to force his eyes open, letting sleep take over him. you had decided to linger a little longer in the room, just until you were completely sure that the taller male was finally getting that much needed rest. sighing to yourself, your lithe fingers gingerly moved away some of the stray strands that managed to cover most of his eyes. your expression softens at the way his lips parted ever so slightly, chest heaving up and down in an even pace, adoring the way he looked so serene. with quick yet quiet movements so as to not wake the male up, you picked up the wooden tray, and crept up on your tiptoes towards the door.

you let your body drop onto the couch in your small living room, an arm over your forehead as your eyes stared up at the ceiling. the room was filled with silence that if someone were to drop a pin, it would have created a loud noise. the silence… it was almost a little too eerie for you. normally, it would have been filled with the sounds of you and yunho discussing your assignments as if one could give the other an inspiration to do so. it was when you turned your head to the coffee table that you saw something on the coffee table.

it was your sketchbook.

the object sitting idly on the table made you recall a particular conversation you had with yunho a couple of night’s ago.

“what are you up to, little rose?”

yunho’s voice effectively made you look up from your sketchbook, the page though seemingly empty, it was a tad crumpled from your many attempts of sketching, doodling, and the many amounts of erasing. the peachy haired boy made his way from the kitchen overlooking the living room to sit down right next to you with two mugs of what seems to be coffee in both hands, handing one of them to you.

sending him a defeated smile along with a low mumble of appreciation, carefully lifting the mug up to your lips to take a small sip of the drink. as if almost immediately, the bittersweet taste of the drink washed over your tastebuds, warmth being sent throughout your entire being. clearly, nothing can really beat coffee whenever you were in a stumped position.

“professor kim wanted us to draw something yesterday.” you finally answered, momentarily pausing to take another sip of the coffee, the boy next to you putting an arm on the couch behind your head while his other hand held onto his mug, listening to you intently.

“he mentioned that he wanted something that.. makes our chests swell with a warm feeling that you feel in your chest whenever you look at your own drawing?” you mumbled, furrowing your eyebrows as you set your gaze onto the blank sketchpad that was laid idly on your lap, lips pursing in deep thought.

“well, surely you must have felt the feeling before, don’t you?” yunho asked, reaching out to place his mug on top of the coffee table in front of where the two of you were seated at.

“i..” you started but somehow, the words died off in your throat.

you wanted to answer ‘yes, of course i have!’.

you wanted to say, ‘everything makes me feel that way too!’

but..

..you had come to the realisation that you had never felt such a feeling in your life before. but, wasn’t that the same thing as happiness? if that was the case, then everything would’ve been ‘a warm feeling’ to you.

yunho, who seemed to notice you being in your usual thinking bubble again, merely smiled to himself. from the couple of years being your roommate, and dare he say, your best friend, he had picked up all of your habits, and actions. from the way you would rub your nose due to being flustered, or how you would pick at your lips whenever you felt nervous - to which, he tried to make you stop by giving you a small keychain with a stress ball attached to it, fortunately making you squeeze it instead of picking your lips again - yunho could read you like an open book most of the time.

though of course, he would have to admit, it is when you seem predictable would be the time where you would be sprouting up something so.. unpredictable. the memory of you pulling a sudden all nighter because of a sudden inspiration from watching a movie would always make you look so endearing in the male’s eyes. it was when your eyes meeting his own was what made yunho flinch ever so slightly in his seat out of surprise.

“tell me, pup. have you ever felt such a feeling before?” you asked, curiosity evident in your bright eyes.

your question was to be expected, making yunho’s features soften at you. folding his arms in front of his chest, his back leaned further into the couch as he hummed underneath his breath in thought. the happiness that managed to make him freeze in place, huh? it took him a moment, but eventually, he nodded his head.

“i have, little rose.” he responded.

“and what was it, if you don’t mind sharing.” you inquired, shifting in your place to sit criss-cross as you turned to face the male next to you.

yunho could only stare at your face, slightly caught off guard upon hearing your sudden interest. he couldn’t help but to release an amused laugh at the way you leaned in ever so slightly, reaching a hand out to playfully ruffle your hair.

“it may sound a little ridiculous. but it was when you threw that birthday party for me last year.” he mentioned, only to feel an amused chortle threatening to leave his lips upon seeing the confused look painted over your face, as if waiting for the peachy haired boy to explain what he meant.

“you baked a cake for me, no?” the corners of his lips quirked up as soon as realisation seemed to hit you. you did bake a cake for him. but really, it wasn’t that special so made him pick that certain day of all days? before you could even ask, however, yunho already beat you to it by giving out his own answer.

“no one has ever baked a cake for me before, it was either bought from our local bakery in town or none at all. but something about a homemade one.. you can feel the effort and so much love from someone who had taken their time in doing so.” yunho trailed off, eyes somehow shining with an unknown sparkle in them as soon as they landed on your own.

“and i have you to thank for, little rose.” he continued, fingers gingerly curling the stray strand of hair behind your ear.

you swear you could feel your heart increase its pace, feeling as if it was about to burst out of your chest. your cheeks felt warm due to the feeling of your blood rushing up to them, a hand quickly reaching up to rub your nose before tearing your gaze away from yunho’s warm one.

you didn’t need any more explanation. you had found your inspiration.

a fond smile curled itself over your tiers at the memory before deciding to stand up as you made your way to your room, grabbing the sketchbook with you along the way. you have a drawing to finish.

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

a small creak from a door being opened resonated throughout the small hallway of the house, along with heavy footsteps, and the sound of a deep yawn mingled in the air. yunho rubbed his eyes as he made his way into the living room. his eyes were still heavy with traces of sleep lingered in them before looking over to the wall clock idly hanging on the wall, wanting to know how many hours had passed after he fell asleep earlier. judging by how dark it was outside, it was already night time, or maybe even midnight. with how long he slept, it was possible he slept the whole day away.

although slowly, yunho was thankful that the medicine seemed to make him recover considering how his head wasn’t throbbing painfully like before, though he still felt a little heavy but it wasn’t as bad as earlier. he could get up on his own, and that’s already enough for the tall male.

“y/n?” the peachy haired boy called out, wandering around the house in search for you.

it was when he reached the door to your room that he noticed the door was slightly ajar, along with a faint sound of what seemed like a song playing coming from the inside as well. his knuckles, gently knocked against the wooden surface before gently pushing the door a tad wider, just enough for yunho to peek in.

and there you were. all hunched over your desk with your head on top of your folded arms, seeming to have fallen asleep with whatever you were doing earlier. as much as yunho wanted you to let you have you rest after busying yourself by helping him earlier during the day, he didn’t want you to have a sore neck and back due to the position you were in. he knew how much you would complain about the pain in the two regions afterwards but then doing it again, it was a never ending cycle that yunho was amused to see from the years of living with you.

walking over to the desk with an intention of wanting to wake you up so you could properly lie down, the male noticed something right next to your head. it was your sketchbook. he walked up behind you, looking down at your sleeping figure. with how your pencil was loosely being held in between your dainty fingers along with a couple of crumpled up papers, mixed in with the other pencils in a variety of colours you had strewn all over the surface of your desk, yunho had made the conclusion that you were working on the assignment you had told him a couple of days ago.

he was glad to know that you were finally getting started on it, knowing how much you would procrastinate until things were a little too late for you to do. but with how you managed to finish everything right on time despite having such little time left, would never cease to amaze him every time.

with slow movements (clearly not wanting you to wake up all surprised and accidentally smack him in the face), yunho leaned over you to clear up your desk from all the clutter and coloured pencils around you, only then having a clear view of what you had drawn onto the sketchbook which caused his eyes to widen ever so slightly at the sight, pausing in his ministrations.

his gaze was set on two drawn figures in what seems to be a bedroom, standing side by side with their faces facing each other, joyful smiles painted over their features, each having a paintbrush in hand. it looked like the two of them were enjoying their time together. but what had caught yunho’s eyes was one of the figures having the similar shade of peach as his hair colour, mirroring yunho’s own hair colour. it was when he saw the familiar details on the walls of the drawing that the peachy haired male noticed what, or rather, who the two figures were in the sketchbook.

“yunho?” a soft voice called out, grogginess laced in their tone as they spoke up which made the tall male flinch ever so slightly in place as he tore his gaze away from the drawing down to you.

from his mind, he had already answered you calling out his name but in reality, he was staring down at your face. tilting your head up, eyes half-lidded from the sleepiness still apparent in your irises. it was when you looked down that you might have caught the gist of whatever has made him speechless. emitting a gasp out of realisation, your hands quickly covered the drawing, whining at him.

“y-you weren’t supposed to see that. i wasn’t d-”

“tell me, little rose. what do you see in me?” was his sudden question, effectively making your words die down in your throat. gulping thickly, your heartbeat was suddenly too loud in your ears. finally having the courage, your lips parted to answer the male’s question.

“i have found comfort in you.” you whispered, yunho’s eyes staring into your own nervous ones.

“i have found happiness whenever we spend time together.” you noted the way your faces were mere centimetres apart from each other.

“i have found the.. the warmth that made me feel at home.” his hands reached out for your hands, holding them in his much larger ones, feeling the pad of his thumbs caressing your knuckles.

“i have.. found myself falling for..” you murmured, yunho resting his forehead on top of your own, both of your eyes fluttering shut, and your noses touching against each other.

“i have found myself falling for you.”

you were scared to open your eyes. you were scared that if you did, everything would have taken a completely different turn. you were scared that you would ruin the friendship the both of you have built together. you were scared to see the disgusted look on yunho’s face after the little confession.

you were scared to lose yunho.

however, those thoughts were completely thrown out of the window upon hearing the words being uttered by the male looming above you.

“little rose, can i kiss you?”

the question kept repeating itself in your mind. you wanted to say yes, you wanted to throw your arms around his neck, you wanted to scream out in relief. yet, not even a whisper came out. not trusting your voice, and the choice of words, you merely gave him a nod. to yunho, that was already enough for him. without wasting any more time, the taller male leaned in to press his lips against your own. yunho wasn’t sure if his fever was coming back or it was due to his heart pumping so fast that blood rushed to both of his cheeks. he wasn’t sure, but his face was undeniably warm.

your smaller hand released one of the male’s bigger ones, reaching up to rest itself against his cheek while your lips moved against his own in sync. everything around you felt muted, the only thing you could hear was the beating of your heart like some type of drum. you never knew that a simple action could make you crave for more, but of course, the need for air was already screaming in the both of your minds that made you pull away from each other, albeit reluctantly.

yunho could faintly taste the sweetness that lingered over his lips as his eyes stared into yours in silence, his hand squeezing yours, before a gentle smile spread itself over his brims, you finding it contagious as you can’t help but to show him your own smile in return. deep down, he wanted to kiss you again, seemingly longing to feel them on his lips once again. so, he did just that. much to your surprise, of course you weren’t complaining.

you would be lying if you denied any more of his kisses.

once the both of you pulled away for the second time, one specific thing popped into your mind, eyes widening in realisation which caused yunho to tilt his head ever so slightly to the side in question.

“if you get me sick, i swear.”

“hey, you said you have a strong immune system!”

“jeong yunho!”

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Time is Irrelevant (1/?): The Mystery of Psychology

Pairing: Eleventh Doctor x Female!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.7k

Part Summary: Y/N is an undergraduate student double majoring in history and English. While she’s cramming away at her research paper she’s approached by a rather peculiar man.

Masterlist

“History, like love, is so apt to surround her heroes with an atmosphere of imaginary brightness.”

�� - James Fenimore Cooper, The Last of the Mohicans

I’ve never imagined myself as one of the greats. They’ve lived before my time and their legacies will outlive me long after I’m gone. The greatest task I can accomplish is do them justice by telling their stories. I must immerse myself in their lives and hope to influence others with their work. I’m merely the surface that the puzzle of history rests upon. Over time, I’ve collected facts from as many historical periods as possible and have memorized them.

I’ve always found history easy to retain. I believe it to be a blessing. Once I’ve heard, read, or watched any kind of information about history I’ll remember it for the rest of my life. My gift made the subject easy for me in school. I also excelled in English. Words resonate with people for generations, they’re needed to retell history. A simple sentence or everyday speech may end up in every history book across the country. Words are equally as influential to our history as our actions. Hence why I’m a history and English double-major. With history comes life lessons, valuable lessons that can only be learned from past experiences. English, words, can impact an entire generation or many, thus influencing history. By telling the stories of the past, I hope to better the future.

___________________________________________________

As I review the archives on the Crusades in front of me, my fingers tap against the table to the beat of the music coming from my earbuds in the otherwise silent archives. Many of my friends have never understood how I’m able to read and listen to music at the same time. What can I say? I’m talented. Disregard the fact that I’ve read this book fifty times over so I could practically recite it from memory. I’m kinda mixing wars here by listening to Hamilton while reading about the French and Indian War. Oh well, there are no rules against the action.

Suddenly, there is a tap on my shoulder. I assume someone must be able to hear my music and is asking for me to turn it down. I close my book as I remove one of my earbuds and peer over my shoulder. I lift my eyes and meet the gaze of a rather handsome individual.

“I’m sorry is it too loud?” I apologize.

“Not at all,” he assures me with a gentle smile and I take note of his accent. “I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of information on the French Revolution?”

The gentleman is lucky, an average person wouldn’t know the archives by heart. I’ve spent nearly every day up here since the early days of freshman year.

“You’re on the right floor so good job.” I joke and point my finger towards the proper section in the middle of the room near me. “Most of the books on the French Revolution that I’ve been able to find are over there but there are more throughout the library upstairs. Nonetheless, those should be a good start.”

He grins, pausing for a moment as he stares me in the eye. “Thank you.” His focus travels to my book sitting on the table. “The Last of The Mohicans, good choice.”

He leaves, as quickly as he appeared, towards the section I suggested. That man is something else entirely. He’s likely a professor considering he’s down here and his considerably formal attire. Only a professor would wear a bow tie. Then again, he appears awfully young. A TA perhaps? That wouldn’t explain his accent though. He could be a visiting professor. Plus, oddly enough, he knows of my book, not many people I know do.

I pop my earbud back in and dive back into reading. The whole interaction was short but interesting nonetheless. I’m not sure what it was about him but he was different than most. It could be that he had this awkward charm and I’m not used to people being so polite. For a young man, he seemed old fashioned. His wording was more articulate, could be because he’s British. Normally a guy would say ‘uh hey so like, could you…. um… show me where the books are for the French Revolution or whatever it’s called? If they have an audiobook or DVD that’s cool too!’

Okay, that’s it, I can’t focus after that guy talked to me. I’ve read the same sentence five times over. It’s best just head home, it’s getting late anyway.

The sun is setting as I make my way back to the apartment. I take the more scenic route by the original brick buildings from the colonial era. Mainly because I like the brick path, especially now that it’s fall and the leaves coat the ground. I’m not surprised to see some boys playing football on the lawn in the center of campus. My first thought is how American they appear, with the crisp leaves scattering the ground, everyone in their duck boots, and playing football. I feel as if I’m in a Lands End catalog.

On the way home, I stop by the student union to fetch a late dinner to take home. I shuffle through the music on my phone, trying to find the perfect playlist for the walk back. I approach the door to the building and the person ahead of me holds it for me as I stare down at my phone.

“Thank you” I mumble absentmindedly.

“Oh well hello again!”

I look up and believe it or not it’s the same man from before. I take notice of his exquisite eyes, their long lashes, and his multicolored uniqueness. I’ve never seen anything like them before. They’re like marbles. A warm chestnut shade toward the cornea but then fades into a ring of emerald that transitions into a deep ocean blue. He has every possibility in one.

“Oh hey!” I respond politely, “did you find the book you were looking for?”

He shows me the hardcover book in his hand. “Yeah, thank you so much for your help earlier!” He holds out his hand for me to shake, “it’s nice to meet you...”

“Y/N,” I answer, accepting his hand. “It’s nice to meet you too!”

I’m not the kind for such formal introductions. In this day and age, there are rarely introductions just frequent run-ins until everyone becomes acquainted.

The gentleman stares at me for a second, visibly deep in thought. He continues to hold my hand, but I’m too awkward to remove it. Then, snaps himself out of it, parting from my hand. “Beautiful name,” he compliments, charmingly.

Normally, I would imagine girls swoon over a compliment from a man with his foreign accent. American girls love a pretty English accent. Yet, his attention makes me feel on display. I’ve never been fond of physical compliments. I never know how to respond to them.

“Are you meeting someone?” I ask.

He looks confused but realizes I’m referring to the building. “Oh! No, no I’m here to get something to eat.”

This was nice, but now I’m over being polite because I’m starving. Plus, I’ve been in the archives practically all day working on my research paper for Medieval History for I’m beyond tired.

“Oh okay…” I stumble over my words, “well, it was nice to you!” I nod, preparing to walk away.

“Would you like to join me?” He asks abruptly before I’m able to escape.

It’s ironic, I’m a mess and he’s wanting my company. The image of me schlepping around this ten-pound backpack wasn’t off-putting to him, really?

“Awesome!” He declares, not giving me the chance to decline his offer before he ushers me inside. “I’ll meet you over there after you get your food!” He adds, pointing over to a specific table.

I was really looking forward to eating in my bed at home, but I can’t decline anyone and risk hurting their feelings. Sticking to my word, I head over to where he instructed after I grab my usual sushi order. Sure enough, he’s already seated at the table. I notice the fact we’re in the far back corner separated from the workers or the other few eaters this time of night. I place my bag next to me on the floor as I get situated.

“You like sushi?” He inquires.

I sway my head from side to side, “Americanized sushi. The traditional raw fish I’ve never tried.”

He chuckles lightly, “one day you’ll have to try it. It’s surprisingly not as bad as one might assume.”He speaks so smoothly. Does it come naturally or does he have to work at it?

“One day,” I sigh with a smile. I would love to see the world and experience everything it has to offer. Yet, I’m a poor college student with responsibilities.

“What’s your major?” He asks, creating casual conversation.

“I’m a double major, English, and history,” I nod.

He raises his eyebrows, appearing amazed. “Impressive!”

“What about you? What do you do?” I’m purposefully vague enough with my questions because I still don’t know whether he’s a student or a professor. He could pass as a graduate student and that’s what has me stumped.

“Oh uh...” he stammers, rubbing his hands together in his lap. “I’m a doctor.”

He’s a professor then. I’m having a social dinner with a professor... is this allowed? “Oh okay,” I try to remain unfazed. “What is it that you teach?”

I’m assuming he must teach history considering the search for the French Revolution book. Then again, I don’t know of any English professors in the department. The topic isn’t really one for some light reading. He could be required to take a history course, though I doubt it.

“Psychology,” he rushes out an answer.

Do I ask or is that too bold? Then again, I’ve never really cared about superficial social standards.

I lean forward in my chair, resting my arms on the table as curiosity appears on my face. “If you don’t mind me asking, why were you looking for books on the French Revolution earlier?”

He hesitates as if he’s evaluating my question. His features go blank then shift to sternness. Did I say something wrong? Was I not being polite when I asked that?

“I was picking it up for a friend,” he answers plainly, questionably.

I don’t believe him, not for a second. I’m no expert in psychology but his eyes glanced to his right while his voice went up a little at the end of his sentence. He’s lying. My heart quickens and I do everything in my power to remain calm. I’m going to play along and act oblivious. Perhaps, he has a good reason for lying.

“I was just wondering because you said you were in Psychology,” I say light-heartedly, waving my hand to dismiss the matter.

He sighs deeply, placing his napkin on the table. “They said you’d be hard to fool.” His eyes meet mine with a smirk as he leans back in his chair. “You don’t miss a thing do you?” He snickers.

His words are so ominous they make my breathing hitch as I drop my chopsticks.

“What?” I calmly question, reaching for my back slowly.

In a swift movement, he grabs my hand on the table and points a metal shiny thing at my face. I attempt to yank myself free, but he just squeezes tighter. I look into the light radiating from the buzzing object. Then, suddenly, my sight goes dark. This can’t be good.

_____________________________

Masterlist

#doctor who #eleventh doctor #matt smith #time travel #eleventh doctor x reader #eleventh doctor x you #doctor x reader #doctor who imagine #imagine #fanfic #doctor who fanfic

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snek-snacc-ficc · 3 years

Text

One Is A Genius, The Other’s Insane

Summary: Logan had seen enough of the world to know it was a horrible place, greatly in need of a competent leader. That was a job he was more than willing to fill, and so, by the age of twenty, he began his tireless work to plan the perfect scheme for world domination. Things became much more complicated, however, when Remus, his complete opposite in nearly every sense, stumbled his way into his life.

(Pssst, it's a Pinky and the Brain au)

Words: 3,177

Logan Ackeroyd couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he realized the world was a horrible place. It had been more of a gradual thing really. He studied history in school and learned of all the horrors man had committed against man throughout the thousands of years of humankind's existence. Everyday he’d watch the news and see atrocities happening across the globe in real time. When he turned sixteen, he had to get a terrible job as a fast food cashier, enduring impatient, rude customers demanding cheap food that tasted like it had been chemically manufactured (and he figured it most likely was), just so one day college would be slightly more affordable. And, perhaps worst of all, when he did reach college, he was forced to listen to pretentious English professors take the likes of Sigmund Freud seriously. Listening to an old man tell a room full of his fellow peers that Hamlet wanted to copulate with his mother was the last straw, and so, by the age of twenty, Logan Ackeroyd decided that he would take over the world.

He wasn’t the absolute perfect choice for Earth’s ruler, he knew, but he also knew that he had an immense amount of intelligence, and a righteous moral code, and that put him above nearly every other world leader in his book.

Unfortunately, Logan found, working to become the world’s benevolent dictator didn’t pay well, in fact it often depleted his pocket book, and so he took up a job as a middle school science teacher by day, and would dedicate his nights to working out the perfect scheme for world domination.

It was supposed to be a secretive, solo endeavor. Involving others in his plan could get messy and chaotic, which was rather counterintuitive to his goal. Along with that, it could prove disastrous to alert others of his plans for fear it could somehow lead to interference from the authorities. It was best, he decided, to simply keep to himself with a clear mind. All of that, however, was ruined the day he met Remus.

Logan’s trip to the hardware store was meant to be quick and simple. He was working on what he thought was the verge of a breakthrough, (a prototype of a device that would allow him to brainwash the masses through the use of a high pitched sound wave), but he was missing some of the tools needed for its completion. When he turned around from the shelf he had grabbed a collection of bolts from, he was brought face to face with a man with a handlebar mustache staring at him. He was startled for a moment, but the feeling quickly gave way to annoyance.

“Excuse me,” he said, pushing past him.

“Is that blood on your sleeve?”

Logan looked down at his long sleeved polo. He hadn’t noticed the red stain on it earlier and he thought it odd that the stranger would point it out.

“I don’t believe so. There’s a stronger possibility that it’s jam.”

“You should totally lick it to find out.”

“That would be highly uncouth,” Logan deadpanned, hoping the peculiar person would soon leave.

“It could be cool. If it is blood then you’d be like a vampire.”

Logan moved towards the check out, delving into an explanation of the definition and proper pronunciation of “uncouth.” The man continued to trail behind him, apparently satisfied with his shopping trip of a cartful of spray paint, chattering on about what seemed like disconnected nonsense. By the time he was finished with his purchase, excusing himself once again to leave, Logan was relieved to no longer be burdened with the annoying distraction.

He rushed to his lab with the missing parts once he reached home, eager to begin work on the project once more. He had little time to do so though, as right as he began the door to the room swung open. Logan jumped, grabbing a screwdriver on instinct in case he had to defend himself, and spun around to see the man from the store standing before him.

“What?!- Why’re you-” he sputtered, completely flabbergasted.

“You left this at the checkout,” the man said, thrusting forward a plastic bag with a collection of wrenches in it. Logan hadn’t even realized he’d left it behind, but his attention had been split when he was checking out thanks to the other.

“So your first reaction was to stalk me and break into my house?!” Logan’s voice rose with anger and unease. “How did you even find where I live?”

“I followed your car.” The man said it like doing so was the most casual thing in the world. “I almost missed ya, but I caught up just in time. Lost you for a second at a stoplight though. And when I found you again your car was already in the driveway and you were gone. I tried knocking at the front door but you never answered, so I just walked in and heard you doing...whatever this is down here.”

Logan was silent, both confused and slightly disturbed that the man’s first solution had been breaking and entering, but he had little time to dwell on that. His cover was blown. His lab had been exposed to an outsider who would most certainly bring an end to his work. It had always been a concern of Logan’s, but he didn’t think he would be faced with it so soon. He kept his composure though, already theorizing which high security prison he might be thrown into.

“Well,” he said, “I suppose now that you know of my secret you will contact the authorities. I’d rather you do it now and get it over with. My phone is right over there if you need to use it.”

The man did not move to grab it however. He remained where he was, darting his gaze around the room.

“Why would I do that?” he asked, still taking in the surroundings.

“B-Because you know of my nefarious plans now, to take over the world.” Logan gestured to the large bulletin board on the wall labeled “Plans for World Domination,” using the same tone of voice he used when re-explaining concepts to students that had been zoned out in class.

“You’re trying to take over the world?!” the other sounded ecstatic, “Woah, how?”

That hadn’t been the reaction Logan expected at all, and he still was unsure whether it was a trap of sorts or the man in question really was this...dense seemed the best way to put it. Either way, he had little left to lose. If he was going to get arrested, at least he would finally get the chance to explain his genius plan to someone beforehand. He turned back towards the device on the work desk.

“Well if you must know, I’m working on this prototype of a device that would send out a high frequency noise to anyone within a ten thousand mile radius. Once it’s finished, I was going to hide them on numerous radio towers and implant a message within it that would brainwash everyone that heard it, allowing me to gain total control of a large number of people quite quickly and efficiently. The only problem thus far seems to be a simple yet pesky error on my part; These wires on its main control panel keep falling in the way when I try to work on it, and there's no way for me to move them all at once and simultaneously continue my work.”

“Well I can help with that Dr. Dork-enshmirtz, here.” He moved over to the control panel, lifting up the bunches of wires that hung over it. “That better?”

Logan, though still a bit stunned, dug around in the bag the man had brought over, taking out the wrench he needed to continue where he left off.

“My name is Logan,” he said, “but that is quite helpful, thank you…?”

“I’m Remus,” the other chirped eagerly.

“Thank you Remus.” As much as he loathed to admit it, it was fairly nice to have some sort of companionship. Being able to share just a bit of his idea already gave him a rush of excitement, despite the odd circumstances it had occurred under. And having someone to be an extra set of hands was an added bonus.

“Would it be possible for you to further offer your assistance to me?”

“Sure thing Nerdy Wolverine, as long as I get Australia privileges when you brainwash everyone. I’m gonna make a spider army.”

The plan fell through in the end (Logan hadn’t considered how difficult it would be to travel the globe, climbing thousands of radio towers), but from that moment on Logan had Remus as his partner in justifiable crime.

---

"Heeeyyy Logie, what are we gonna do tonight?"

Logan rubbed his temples. For ninety-five nights in a row Remus had asked this same question, and every single night Logan's response was the same.

"The same thing we do every night Remus, try to take over the world."

"Ooo neat! What are we gonna do this time? More sabotaging jam companies?"

"No Remus," Logan sighed, "after last night's disaster we're lucky we aren't on some government watch list." He was most disappointed that out of all of his plans that one fell through. Creating a utopia where only Crofter's jam was consumed would have been a dream come true. But alas, he had to move on.

"Truth be told I am rather stumped as to what our next approach should be, but I'm sure with some copious amounts of effort I will come up with another brilliant idea."

"Why don't you take the night off Brainiac?" Remus asked.

"Take the night off?" Logan scoffed, "When the world still remains in the clutches of corrupt, incompetent leaders? Never. Besides, what would I do if not plot to take over the world?"

"You could take a nap," Remus suggested, "You've got circles under your eyes so dark you could pass for a MySpace profile picture."

"While I appreciate the concern, my friend, I am quite fine. Though my sleep schedule is a bit off of an average rhythm, rest assured I have calculated a routine that keeps me functioning regularly. Though, given that you sleep a full 9 hours each day I doubt a set sleeping pattern can do much to create normal behavior." Logan muttered the last bit watching Remus grind his nails against his teeth like they were a nail-filer.

Remus halted his movement, inspecting his hand with one eye closed as he spoke. "Well then we could do something fun. We could watch this one documentary I want to see about this religious cult that made all it's followers fuck each other on a bridge and then jump off," he let out a cackled laugh, "Crazy how all that religious stuff can control people like that."

Logan scrunched his nose. "Remus, I ask that you keep your disgusting documentary drivel to yourse-" He paused for a moment, the last thing Remus said sinking in.

"Remus, what did you just say?"

"It's crazy how all the religious junk can control people," Remus repeated, "that's partially why I gave up organized religion, in fact…"

He trailed off but Logan wasn't listening, the gears in his head turning, formulating a new idea.

"Remus," he exclaimed, eyes lit up as he cut the other off without realizing it, "are you pondering what I'm pondering?"

"Hm, well I think so Logie," Remus said, "but I'm actually allergic to synthetic body glitter."

Logan grit his teeth, face falling.

"You would make for wonderful evidence to prove it's possible to de-evolve, Remus. No, I was referring to the idea of preying on the population through the use of religion. If I were to somehow convince the masses that I were a god I would have the world tied around my finger; They would do anything I commanded."

"Woah, you'd be a much better god than Sky Daddy Logan," Remus said, "but how are you going to get that many people to trust you?"

"From what I've observed, most people seem to distrust claims of the supernatural due to a lack of perceivable, verified evidence," Logan said. "If I could find a way to create some sort of projection of myself to a large number of people all at once, it might be enough to convince them that I am a deity. And right here in America would be the perfect starting point, because most people here are rather gullible and severely lacking in critical thinking skills."

Remus clapped his hands together.

"Yay! We're gonna start a nerd cult!"

---

Tireless nights were spent working to bring the plan to fruition. Logan had to work out exactly how he could create a convincing projection of himself, as well as find a power source with enough energy to fuel it. After weeks of building, planning, and re-working the contraption was finally finished and ready to be put to use.

It was about half past ten o'clock when Remus and Logan headed out to the nearby electrical company. Its small amount of security and large source of power made it the ideal location to put his plan into motion. When they arrived and had successfully snuck through the wired fence, Logan turned to Remus.

"Here," he said, handing him a thick metal pole he had under his arm, "you use this to knock out the security guards while I hack into the security system and cameras. Try and meet me in 15 minutes."

Remus gave a two-fingered salute.

"You got it Dorkenshmirtz."

Logan rolled his eyes at the nickname, but couldn't truly be annoyed by it. So far everything was going perfectly according to plan. Logan even found himself grinning as he made quick work of disabling the security, the flow of adrenaline making him nearly burst with excitement. Once the system was completely down, he turned tail to head to the main center. He unzipped the bag he was carrying, carefully taking out the disk-like platform he would use for the projection, and untangling the series of wires and cords to put together. To his dismay, he found that the last cord was slightly bent, most likely from being shuffled around in the bag on the trip over, and wouldn't properly plug in to the outlet without hands on assistance. The concern was quickly diminished though. Remus would be able to hold it in place while he was on the platform. Just as the thought crossed his mind the door swung open and Remus stepped in. His hair was slightly more astray than usual and a noticeable bruise was forming around his jaw, but he was smiling madly, chipper as ever.

"Did you take all of the guards out?" Logan asked.

"Yup, I bonked 'em!" Remus said, proudly. "A few of them put up a fight but I went like this," he swung the pole through the air, "BONK!"

Logan couldn't help the amused quirk of his lips.

"Wonderful," he said, making his way towards the platform, "Everything has been put into place, except the cord over there. I need you to hold it into the outlet for this to work. Do not let go."

Remus nodded.

"Amen Sky Daddy!"

He plugged the cord in, keeping it upright and steady. Almost immediately the platform lit up with a surge of power. Logan walked towards it, nearly trembling. Finally after years of work, trying and failing and trying again, he was going to succeed. The world would finally be his to craft to his perfect, peaceful vision.

Once it was completely charged up Logan took his step onto the platform. Outside an enlarged image of himself filled the sky for miles. He cleared his throat, preparing his speech for the people, when suddenly his moment was interrupted by the sound of Remus cursing to himself as softly as he could manage. His head whipped around and to his horror he saw sparks of electricity flying from the place where the cord met the outlet, sending repeated shocks through Remus, who was struggling through the pain to keep the cord plugged in.

Remus looked to Logan, seeing him hesitate.

"Go on," he whispered, though his voice was strangled with discomfort, "I'm fine."

Logan turned back around once more, but got no further in his speech as he caught the sparks growing larger out of the corner of his eye.

Time seemed to freeze for Logan, his head was spinning, torn between the task at hand and Remus' pained whimpers.

He'll be fine.

He'll get electrocuted and die.

It's one person vs the future of the rest of the world. This is what I've worked towards for years, and I'm going to blow it.

But he's helped so much.

Stupid, loyal Remus with his constant screw ups, and dumb jokes, and annoying nicknames, and laughter and chatter that always rang through the house, that filled a void I didn't even notice was there before, and-

Remus cried out, his body completely jolting with an electric shock, but still he forced himself to keep hold of the cord.

"Remus let go!" Logan shouted.

"N-no, y-you-" Remus couldn't get out another word before another strong shock struck him. The surrounding wires and cords were jumping with sparks as well, and Logan caught sight of a fire starting at the floor where Remus sat slumped weakly against the wall.

"Remus!"

Without thinking twice Logan bolted from the platform, heaving Remus into his arms just as the flames began to grow and approach his body. He rushed out of the building, lungs burning from the toxic fumes of smoke that filled the air, but he didn’t slow his pace until they reached the car, the sound of sirens already blaring in the distance.

The drive home almost certainly broke the speed limit, but Logan cared little about that, glancing at Remus, unconscious but miraculously breathing, every few seconds until they reached home.

---

It was evening two days later when Remus finally awoke. He groaned, blinking his eyes open. Just as he came to, Logan walked into the room, rushing over to the bedside.

"So Logan,” Remus said, flashing a dopey smile up at him, “what do you want to do tonight?"

Logan threw his arms around Remus' neck, the position awkward due to him being sprawled out on the bed, but neither paid any mind to it. Tears leaked out of Logan's eyes, that he tried to hold back.

"I think," he said, sniffling, "that you can choose what we do tonight Remus."

Soon after, the two were curled up on the couch, Remus' head resting on Logan's thighs. Logan sipped hot chocolate from his #1 DICK-tator mug, a Christmas gift from Remus, carding his fingers through the other's hair as a true crime documentary played on the T.V. Maybe, he thought, world domination could wait a bit when he had his whole world lying right in his lap.

---

Ah! I’m so glad I finally finished this! Think of it as my own little celebratory work to welcome in the new Animaniacs reboot.

Taglist: @bullet-tothefeels

#sanders sides #intrulogical #logan sanders #remus sanders #intrulogical pinky and the brain au #slight angst

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 16

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 16 - Game

Ten minutes later, Lin Yan appeared on the stage awkwardly wearing a silver-grey robe with a small dragon pattern embroidered on it. All ten participants took their seats. Even the Professor File Folder put on a traditional teacher's outfit. The buzzing activity coming from the crowd made Lin Yan blush. It felt like he was sitting on pins and needles; it was uncomfortable no matter how he tried to adjust himself.

This whole situation felt like a melodrama between Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai. He couldn't help but glance back at Xiao Yu several times. The only real ancient man in the audience was standing behind him with a frown. Looking at him with a serious stare, he pressed his hand against Lin Yan's shoulder, like he was trying to comfort him.

When he changed his clothes, he noticed that something was wrong with Xiao Yu, or maybe it was just everything that was wrong. In the dressing room, the ghost had wrapped himself around him and hugged him. He pushed and shoved the other around the narrow room, creasing his costume. Just as Lin Yan was about to start fighting back, Xiao Yu suddenly stopped tugging him around. He pulled him over to the mirror, put his chin on Lin Yan's shoulder and he stared at the person in the reflection. For the first time, his chaotic eyes seemed calm, even holding a quiet sadness.

The mirror surface swayed, like a droplet hitting a calm pool of water, waves rippling away from the center. Standing in the brass mirror was a young man standing with clear eyes, hands resting beside a cloud brocade waistband, and a face exuding pride. Lin Yan backed away in horror. He almost screamed. The person in the mirror wasn't him. Although he had the exact same face, life had done a number on him and he wouldn't be able to make an expression like that anymore.

The scent of agarwood incense in the room was intoxicating. The young man's eyes softened. The tall man in the traditional Chinese clothes adjusted his chin on his shoulder, raising his long eyebrows. His voice was slow and hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken in a long time: "I've been waiting for you for so long. . ."

Lin Yan's head snapped back to the mirror. He staggered forwards and leaned against the mirror. The person in front of him had hair as black as paint, and his mottled blood coat didn't match his eyes that seemed so sad and hopeless. . .

I have been waiting for you for a long time.

Lin Yan scrambled out of the dressing room.

"The break is over. Please quiet down and we'll get started with our next activity." The girl in the red jacket skirt read.

Lin Yan sat in the chair in a daze. The bright stage lights and the dark crowd in the audience made him feel like what just happened in the dressing room was a hallucination, and Xiao Yu was no different. Lin Yan looked back at him, panicked. Xiao Yu leaned down and held his trembling hand. On the table were a small whiteboard and a soft black marker. Xiao Yu motioned for him to pick it up and he moved his hand across the whiteboard: I'll help you.

Lin Yan was stunned and wrote out: Do you remember something?

Xiao Yu didn't seem to want to answer. He shook his head and let go of his hand. He still stood behind him holding onto Lin Yan's shoulder for support.

The audience quieted down, and bright white chasing lights hit the mahogany silk box on the centre of the stage. The red jacket skirt girl stepped forward to open the silk box, revealing the glass box within. The audience let out a few exclamations, and Lin Yan's eyes lit up. It was a beautiful moon flask with two handles. The maiden leaned against the tree art, the linework was meticulous, the enamel fully covered the flask, the piece was still intact, and the overall flask was in good condition.

This authentification wasn't difficult for a student studying cultural relics. Lin Yan carefully looked at the glaze texture and enamel of the flask's body. He wrote his answer on the whiteboard after double-checking that it was correct. When the time was up, the host walked past the square table and stopped when he reached the PSP guy, holding up her mic and asking: "You, what's your answer?"

The PSP guy’s whiteboard turned out to be empty. He was leaning on the table and his attention was focused on his game. When the host asked the second time, he raised his head as if he had just woken up. He glanced lazily around and sarcastically twitched the corners of his mouth into a smile. "It's genuine," he spat out. Then he brushed the host off and lowered his head to continue playing the game.

Lin Yan knew this guy was arrogant, but he didn't expect him to act this to everyone. The girl in the red jacket skirt was embarrassed by PSP's attitude. After putting a polite expression back on her face, she nodded and walked to the next student.

"Well. . . There were nine students who got the answer right, might as well switch it up for the last one." The audience let out a good laugh, and the boy three places down from Lin Yan grinned and left the stage. The professor briefly spoke about the flask. Lin Yan cleaned off the whiteboard and waited for the next question. His mind couldn't get over what he saw. He thought that most people wouldn't make a mistake on such a simple question. It seemed that the people on the stage were not as professional as they thought.

Professor File Folder also seemed a little disappointed. He took a sip from his stainless steel cup and turned his attention to the laptop, not knowing what he was looking at.

The brocade box in the center of the stage was swapped with a smaller one. After the mysterious sound effect, the box slowly opened. It was an ancient book. The host motioned everyone to take a closer look. Lin Yan stood in front of the glass box for a while and returned to his seat to write the next answer: "Genuine, the Southern Opera "White Rabbit" published in the Ming Dynasty, unearthed from the tomb of the Xuan family in Jiading."

He had seen this thing in the Shanghai Museum. Lin Yan thought, this lecture is like an antique appreciation meeting. No wonder it attracted so many people. After they all answered the question, another person left the stage amidst the applause and whistle of the audience, leaving another armchair free.

The questions were asked one by one, gradually getting more and more difficult. A fake yet elaborate sunflower gold hairpin inlaid with gemstones stumped three people, and then a bucket-colour fine-grained water chestnut bucket imitation with a "grinding" technique even had Lin Yan hesitate with his answer. After the authenticity of each item was announced, the professor simply added a few points on the piece, which could count as educating the audience on the topic. The seats were vacated one by one. When the eighth object was brought out, there were only two people left on the stage. Lin Yan glanced to the right, and it was the PSP guy who had toughed it out until the end.

He looked careless, but he didn't expect that he understood the field so well. Lin Yan put his cold palms on his face to cool down and took a long breath as he waited for the next question.

The red jacket skirt girl was holding a delicate paper box in her hand. Instead of showing it to the audience first, she walked over to Lin Yan and the PSP guy, signalling them to come forward. She opened the paper box and carefully took out a fan.

The ink on the front of the golden fan wasn't very visible; it wasn't well-preserved. The ribs of the fan were slightly damaged, and there are signs of water damage on the ink-painted mountains. With this kind of condition, it would be difficult to fetch a good price in a private auction if it wasn't made by a famous artist. But when the inscription on the face of the fan was exposed, Lin Yan and the PSP man couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. On the front, a few lines of the unruly inscription were written on the fan: “Wildwater Bridge Road, The Village of Barren Chickens and Fallen Leaves. Returned to Hou Xidu, The Child Sweeps the Firewood Door." What surprised the two of them were the three small characters following the poem: by Tang Yin.

Lin Yan's heart sped up. If this was Tang Yin's authentic work, then the fan in front of him was worth at least 500,000 yuan. Wasn't he afraid of being robbed bringing such a valuable thing to school? Then a clear picture of the fan was shown on the big screen. As expected by Lin Yan, an exclamation sounded from the audience, and even the host's voice was drowned by the buzzing discussion.

Professor File Folder grew impatient and coughed into the loudspeaker to signal the audience to shift their attention back to the event.

Lin Yan carefully looked at the light brown fan in front of him. He couldn't help but take his time with his answer. Tang Yin's paintings were extremely difficult to distinguish in the field of calligraphy and painting. His style of painting changed throughout his pieces, and he rarely indicated the year on the paintings so it was difficult to guess the painting based on its creation year. Therefore, there were countless counterfeiters and imposters on the market. To be honest, judging this kind of work could only be based on the painting style, date and seal inscription. The most important thing is the eye and inspiration of the connoisseur. Being extremely familiar with the author’s style, the first time he saw the work, he could only make a guess. This wasn't just an answer determined by years of study, but it was also just a luck-based gamble.

In the early years of the founding of the People’s Republic of China, many collectors relied on this ability to make money at auctions overnight, but it was too difficult for students like Lin Yan who hadn’t even finished school. He frowned and thought carefully. Regardless of the painting style, the date and the handwriting of this fan were almost flawless. Although there was a slight deviation from Tang Yin's other landscape paintings, the vigorous and unrestrained spirit of the brush strokes clearly distinguished this piece.

It should be the original one. . . Lin Yan bit on his pen and hesitated. Halfway through writing out his answer, his wrist was suddenly grabbed. Xiao Yu bent down and studied the fan carefully. His fingers lightly tracing the red seal and he seemed surprised. He shook his head at Lin Yan and crossed off the half-written "true" on the whiteboard with his hand.

"After so long, you still haven't figured it out?" PSP guy leaned over to Lin Yan casually with a disdainful expression. Seeing Lin Yan still holding the pen hesitantly, he couldn't help but sneer, "I thought you were so awesome."

The file folder-like professor was staring at his notebook in a daze. Hearing these words, he couldn't help turn his head around and looked at the two with interest. Lin Yan just focused his attention on the painting instead and had forgotten to be nervous. As soon as he raised his head to meet the professor's gaze, his cheeks became hot again. He couldn't help but cry inside. He originally planned to wait for the end of the event to ask the professor backstage regardless of whoever won the contest. Now he feels like he wouldn't be able to ask him anything if he lost to this guy in this activity.

"Hurry up, hurry up." PSP guy tapped the table with a pen and made some muffled noises. "Just go home already, you aren't qualified for this."

When the professor heard this, he couldn't hide his amusement and turned his face to take a sip of water to cover up his expression.

That was rude. He hadn't finished yet. Lin Yan clenched his fist and asked Xiao Yu as quietly as possible: "Are you sure?" Xiao Yu nodded, his pale fingers stroked his throat, and frowned. After a long time, it seemed that it took a lot of effort to say slowly and hoarsely: ". . . I drew it."

Lin Yan's eyes widened. He looked at Xiao Yu in disbelief, and then at the fan. In ancient times, there was no perfect reprinting technology. Famous paintings and calligraphy were often copied by literati and calligraphers. Some were for practice, some were to give to friends. Some were for selling, and the prices of those high-quality copies were even comparable to the originals. But Xiao Yu's counterfeit actually appeared here. . . Wasn't this too much of a coincidence?

"Dude, if you don't know what it is, stop wasting our time." Seeing Lin Yan's hesitation, the PSP guy shook his head impatiently. He lowered his head and continued to play his game, pressing the buttons with his thumb, clicking them loudly.

Lin Yan was also irritated but by this person's attitude. He took a deep breath and wrote his answer on the whiteboard. The crowd in the audience couldn't wait. The people in the nearby seats pointed at the PowerPoint. Someone nodded gently, seeming to recognize the authenticity of the painting.

The sound effect of a gong sounded, and when the host read out the answers of the two, Lin Yan heard a commotion in the audience and even a disdainful sneer from the corner of the room. However, the PSP guy completely ignored the audience’s reaction and crossed his legs. He glanced at Lin Yan, touched the pimples on his face and raised an eyebrow with a chuckle: "You're right, not bad."

The same answer was written on both whiteboards: fake.

The professor showed an appreciative smile on his face for the first time. After he said the right answer, he grabbed the microphone and explained to the audience: "Tang Yin's fan "Xiqiao Going Back to the River", a work made during the Ming Dynasty Chenghua period. The author is unknown. The two students answered correctly."

There was a sigh from the auditorium. This time, most of the people who had thought they were right about their guess couldn't help pointing at the screen to discuss the flaws in the fan. There was even a school official wearing a black suit in the front row who had turned around and argued fiercely with the guests in the back row.

Author unknown? Lin Yan wasn't focusing on the fan, instead looking back at Xiao Yu. His hands still rested on his shoulder, but he didn't respond to anything Professor File Folder was saying. Instead, he frowned as if immersed in memory. He seemed really lost in thought. Lin Yan looked into Xiao Yu's eyes, no longer as wild as a beast like when he first saw him. Now, his dark eyes were like the surface of the river after sunrise, and the turbid fog was slowly burned away in the sun, revealing a hint of clarity from within the chaos.

"Now that the first nine rounds are over, please give your attention to the last round with these two classmates, which is also the most difficult round today." The red jacket skirt girl raised her voice and signalled to something behind her.

#dig a grave to dig out a ghost #chinese bl #chinese novel #english translation #yaoi #danmei #yaoi novel

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mojofun · 4 years

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Not My Type (Sirius Black x Reader)

Hello earthlings :) This is an entry for This is an entry for a writing challenge I’m taking part in, launched by the wonderful @obsessedwithrandomthings for getting 500 followers; congrats again :) The prompt I chose this time was <<You look so good in my shirt>>. I can just imagine our dear Sirius using lame one-liners when flirting with girls, and this is the result. P.S. I’ve been listening to Motionless in White lately, so this thing is packed with lyrics references. Besides, Sirius looks like the kind of guy who would totally dig that style of music so I thought “why not?” I hope you enjoy it!

Gif not mine, credits to @snuffles-padfoot07

<<Remus?>>

No answer

<<Remus. Remus Lupin>>

Still silence

<<Remus John Lupin>>

Still no reply

<<Moony. Moony, Moony, Moony->>

<<WHAT?!>> The taller Marauder ultimately snapped, turning to glare at his bespectacled friend; said friend acted like nothing happened, simply holding up a slip of paper

<<Do you think Lily will like it?>>

Sighing, Remus gave the poem a skim before rolling his eyes

<<Won’t you give the poor girl a moment of reprieve, James?>>

<<Cmon, help a friend in need!>>

<<Why me?>>

<<You always has a way with words>>

A snort came from the opposite side of the room

<<And yet, he still got no date>>

Remus scowled

<<Prongs, why don’t you ask Padfoot then? Merlin knows Y/N loves his idiotic pickup lines>>

Sirius acknowledged the hit, rising from his bed and walking toward his two mates with a strut. Once there, he took James’s poem and read it, nodding in approval

<<Go for it, pal>>

<<What about you, oh great master of poetry?>> Moony teased, still miffed about Sirius’s jab <<How will you annoy your muse today?>>

The shorter male chuckled, smirking mischievously

<<Don’t worry, Moony. I’m very well-prepared>>

<<That’s exactly what worries me>>

_______

<<Y/N! Y/N!>>

Sirius greeted the H/C girl who’d just walked in the class with her friends. As soon as she saw him, she groaned

<<Oh no>>

<<Come sit by me!>>

Another H/N patted her back soothingly while she face-palmed

<>

<<Oh love, come on! You don’t need to be afraid of me!>>

<<I’m not scared: now that I think about it, you look like my boggart after I’ve cast Riddiculus>> The female deadpanned.

Sirius was stumped.

Beside him, Janes cackled

<<Your girl’s got sass, Padfoot>>

The other guy could only nod, watching as his crush took a seat as far as possible from him- or tried to: thanks to his distraction, all the other spots were occupied.

That meant she was sitting in the next desk.

Y/N hoped that she’d successfully quelled the Gryffindor’s idiotic onslaught.

Well, she did... Just for a little while though

<<Such a sharp tongue for someone so pretty, doll>>

<> The girl countered, glaring at him <<Do not tempt me>>

<> He cackled

<<Yes, my killing instincts are very strong right now>>

The quaint theatre was interrupted by the arrival of Professor Silvanus Kettleburn, who immediately gave dispositions for the class

<<Very well. Today, you will work in pairs>>

The sentence every student dreaded, especially poor Y/N.

It seemed luck was not on her side that day because, when the professor announced her partner, she was faced with a smug Sirius, grinning from ear to ear

<<You know, my therapist says I’m afraid of commitment. Wanna help me prove em wrong?>>

<<Interesting. I’ve never wanted to commit more>>

<<Really?>>

<<Yes; a murder>> The E/C-eyed student walked away from him, heading toward the fire crab the professor had assigned them

<<Ready to give up, Padfoot?>>

<<Never>>

<> Remus commented

<<She’s made of fire, but I can handle it. And no, James; I’m not talking about the crab>>

_______

<<No no no no. Stop right there>>

<<What?>>

<<You need to chop those before feeding the crab>>

<<Oh>>

<<Give them to me>>

Sirius nodded, handing her the food and watching her cut it, slowly and precisely

<<Where have you been all my life?>>

<<Hiding from you>> Y/N replied coolly.

The boy cackled

<<You’re smart, funny, pretty, and you’ve got an insane amount of sass. You’re everything I’m looking for in a girl>>

<<Wow, I’m so lucky>>

It would have been impossible to ignore the sarcasm lacing her words, but Sirius didn’t acknowledge it

<<Would you want to go watch a movie with me this weekend?>>

<<I’ve already seen it>>

<<How can you know?>>

<<You’re asking me out again: I’ve already lived this horror enough to last me a lifetime>>

The older Black brother laughed, shaking his head in amusement

<<Alright, let me try again>>

<<Please no>>

<<Can I take you out on Saturday?>>

<<Sorry, I’m having a headache this weekend>>

<<What?>>

<<Leftovers from the one you’re giving me now>>

But you->>

<<Bitch you’d give a fucking aspirin a headache>> She growled.

Once again, Sirius was at a loss for words. Not only had Y/N just used two swear words in a sentence, but he knew he’d already heard those words somewhere...

<<Wait a second. You listen to Motionless In White?>>

He cried out. The female snorted

<<Are you kidding me? They’re one of my favourite bands>>

<>

Finally, the tension between them seemed to dissipate. Finally, Sirius’s smile was not a smug grin but a real, happy smile.

Finally, Y/N smiled genuinely back at him.

How cliché would it be to say that they felt like they were the only ones in the world at the moment?

(Fire crab aside)

And yet, that exactly how they felt.

It was so exhilarating that Sirius just had to try again

<<Y/N?>>

<<Yes?>>

<> The girl chuckled, prompting him to continue <<but I’m here to stay, forever and always>>

She laughed more. It was not sarcastic or mirthless but a true, joyous laugh

<<You know, you’re not so bad once I get past the smug act>>

<>

<<You’re probably right, but don’t get ahead of yourself. My killing instinct are not raging right now: let’s keep it that way, shall we?>>

<<I’m ready to bleed to make amends>> He joked. The young woman cachinnated, shoving him playfully

<<You idiot. You’re making it hard not to like you>>

<<That was my objective>>

<<Continue on this road and you might just achieve it>>

<>

Y/N cackled one more time, shaking her head in amusement.

It was an incredibly welcome turn of events.

_______

Later that day, the two students sat together for lunch in the Great Hall, discussing anything that came to mind. Mostly their favourite bands.

The more they found out they had similar tastes the more engaged they became.

It was quite a sight. It surely left Remus and James gobsmacked: they would have never thought Y/N would actually want to be with Sirius. Didn’t he annoy her as much as James did Lily, with his dumb pickup lines?

Apparently not.

Their surprise grew even more when their friend suddenly asked her on a date- nothing new there.

They’d enjoyed endless attempts by Padfoot to win the heart of the smart and beautiful H/N.

Her answer, on the other hand, was something entirely unexpected

<<Yes, Sirius: I will go on a date with you>>

The black-haired Marauder offered her a huge smile, making her laugh

<<Thank you, darling. You won’t regret it>>

<>

<<I’ll even make sure the place I take you to has sharp knives, so you’ll know what to do if I get too annoying, alright?>>

The girl laughed so hard that tears fell from her eyes

<<You’re an idiot>>

<<Duly noted. But doesn’t this idiot deserve a kiss?>>

Remus and James half expected Y/N’s smile to turn into a frown, and for her to smack him in the face.

Instead, against all odds, she giggled and pulled him closer, pecking his cheek

<> Sirius beamed. Y/N snorted

<<Not entirely: you’re still an idiot>>

_______

Idiot or not, the date went so well that they went on a second one, and a third, a fourth... And so on, until they officially became a couple.

Which meant Remus, James and Peter had to deal with their best friend and his girlfriend sucking faces and being all lovey-dovey- though they were sure those two only did it to piss them off.

Well, they’d learnt how to deal with it, as long as it was just holding hands and kissing- making out, actually.

But none of them was ready to find the two of them in bed together in their dorm room

<<What the->>

<<Ah!>> Y/N startled, waking Sirius

<<For crying out loud, guys, won’t you ever knock?>>

The poor friends just stood there, red in the faces while Padfoot rubbed sleep out of his eyes.

Once he’d had enough, he shouted

<<Well, why are you still standing there? Get out, we need to change!>>

Not even Death-Eaters after them would have made the three boys run so fast.

The female chuckled, standing up and smoothing our her boyfriend’s shirt that she was wearing like a dress.

The boy in question stared at her adoringly, pulling her closer

<<You look so good in my shirt>>

He fully expected her to blush, but she smirked and replied cheekily

<>

The wink that came immediately after threw him for a loop

<<Y/N...>>

<<Yes, dear?>>

<<... That’s such a lame pickup line>>

<<Yeah... I stole the idea from you, along with your shirt>>

<<And my heart>> Sirius played along

<<... Just like that, the lame throne is yours again>>

<<But that makes you the queen of lame>> He pointed out.

She didn’t know what to reply to that, so she swatted him on the chest.

He gasped in horror

<<You said you’d never hurt me>>

His joke made her laugh.

When she calmed down enough, she teased

<<You’d still give a fucking aspirin a headache>>

<<Oh, are you an aspirin?>> For old times’ sake, he decided to throw in another lame pickup line <<I’d love to take you every 4-6 hours>>

<<Isn’t that too much for you?>> She teased. He chuckled and pulled her in his lap, pecking her cheek

<<You are too much for me, but I’m never letting you go>>

Despite the light atmosphere, those words held a promise of forever, and they both wanted that.

Their lips met and their hands held the other close.

Once again, as cliché as it may sound, they felt like the only two people in the world

___Extra____

Outside the door Remus, James and Peter stood still, looking at each other in confusion and embarrassment

<<How long do you think it will take?>>

<<Well, Wormtail, I don’t know much about Padfoot’s prowess in bed but->>

<<I’m not talking about that, James>> The shorter Marauder spluttered.

Remus sighed

<<That was probably the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me. And that’s saying something, taking into account I hang out with you three>>

James cackled

<<Oh, Moony, you wouldn’t->>

<> Peter piped up again

<<What would that be?>>

<<Why are we still standing here?>>

<<Oh, right. We should come back later>>

<<Better yet, let’s change our house>> Remus groused <<Merlin knows I’m never going back there>>

After some silence, James spoke again

<<Hey, Moony, do you think if I used those pickup lines on Lily, she would->>

Professor McGonagall spent the whole day wondering if the incredibly loud sound she heard in the morning was actually a scream, and where it had come from

#dees500challenge #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x reader #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine

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harrypotterandthefandomaccount · 4 years

Text

Tea and Gobstones

request: Could you maybe do a Remus x reader where she’s a student who is just always so quiet and sad and Remus get curious and tries to befriend her, only for Harry to explain to him she doesn’t really trust people that much but knows she likes music and tea so that’s how he starts and Remus finally breaks her shell and is pleasantly shocked to find out she’s actually a really hyper and happy kid

warnings: none, just some platonic fluffiness,,, and angst

note: enjoy!! first oneshot in a while :)

Remus watched as his classed dismissed once again, eyes trained on one particular student whom he couldn’t figure our entirely yet. Every other student was an easy read and he got to know them and who they were as people. However, Y/N L/N was a different story.

She was extremely quiet but showed extreme interest in certain subjects, especially potions and DADA. But then there were days like today where her eyes seemed droopy and disinterested in every word that came out of his mouth during his lecture.

It confused him to the point where he began to question his own teaching skills; could he be lacking in getting to know his students personally?

A figure stepped in front of Remus’s line of vision of the student, looking up to meet the eyes of Harry Potter himself, along with Ron and Hermione.

Lupin smiled, “Harry, Ron, Hermione! My favorite trio. What can I do for you?”

Harry chuckled and looked down before meeting Lupin’s eyes, “actually, sir, it is moreso how I can help you.”

Remus’s eyebrows raised, “oh? How so?”

The boy turned his head quickly before meeting his professor’s eyes, “I notice your struggle to. . .connect with Y/N, sir.”

The professor raised his chin, “am I boring? Is that why there are certain days she likes my class and others. . . not so much?”

“No, no, not at all, sir,” Hermione started when Ron shrugged his shoulders, “she’s an interesting person to get to know. She’s seen many things that nobody should and her trust is very limited, that is all. Y/N can be reserved, too, as her bubble is very small.

Remus nodded and looked at the trio, moreso Harry, “is there any way I can get to know her better? Anything she likes?”

Potter laughed, “trying to flatter her, sir? I have Tonks on speed dial!”

Lupin’s eyes widened at the thought, “Harry, don’t be ridiculous. You know how much I love getting to know my students and she has stumped me, absolutely stumped me!”

“Yeah, she does that to a lot of people,” Ron started, “but she’s an absolute blast to be around and is extremely funny. She’s one worth knowing.”

Remus gave a crooked smile, “so, anything she likes?”

Hermione nodded, her curls bouncing, “she loves tea - specifically green tea. Oh, and she’s a master at gobstones, loves all kinds of music, and you can ask her anything about Quidditch.”

Ron agreed, “and she plays mean Wizard Chess!” The trio laughed and nodded, knowing she’d kick their asses any day.

The DADA professor chuckled, “well thank you very much, all of you.” He stopped to write a pass for all three of them, “here’s a pass. If anyone gives you trouble, tell them to take it up with me.”

With that, the trio nodded and left, leaving Remus with his thoughts and how he’d find out Y/N’s schedule for tomorrow. Looking through his file in his desk, he easily found her name and looked through her classes. Lupin sighed happily - she had him last tomorrow. He’d easily ask her to stay after and finally get to know her.

The next day seemed like a drag but the DADA professor had something to look forward to. He had packets of green tea along with marbles to play Gobstones. He hadn’t played in a while, so he was a bit nervous to get beat by a student.

With a shake of his head, Remus noticed his last period class staggering into his classroom, eager to get their last class done and over with. The professor looked around and met eyes with the student he had been having much interest in. He smiled, earning a soft smile back from Y/N.

From your point of view, you felt relaxed and ready to get DADA over with, hearing the weekend calling your name. Professor Lupin seemed extra enthusiastic, making eye contact more than usual and taking questions from anyone with more inclusivity.

As the class got closer to ending, Lupin stopped and sighed, “wizards and witches, I can feel the need to leave radiating off of all of you.”

The class laughed as he continued, “any of you make a sound or mention this to another professor, I will turn you into slugs. Joking, of course.”

Everyone got out of their seats and gathered their books, hurridly trying to leave. Lupin walked over to Y/N’s desk and tapped it, “would you mind staying for a sec?”

Y/N hesitated before nodding, “o-of course, sir.” Lupin smiled at the response and walked toward his desk, hearing the students rush out the room until it was silent.

Remus pulled up a chair next to his desk and reached into a large drawer, pulling out two small cups, “come, sit!”

Y/N felt her eyebrows slightly raise until she walked over to the chair, setting her books down on the floor and taking a seat. Remus placed a cup lateral to the chair as he used a spell to make hot water fall from the tip of his wand, filling both their cups.

The professor looked at his student, “tea?”

Y/N looked up ar him from picking at her nails, “oh, um, do you have green tea?”

Remus smiled, “who doesn’t?” He pulled out a green tea box from his drawer, placing it beside her cup as he watched his student open the box and placing the tea bag in her cup.

He was honest with her, “Y/N, I feel as if I know who you are, but I know nothing about you, so I figured I’d get to know you over tea. Is that alright?”

Y/N began to loosen up, a smile forming on her face, “that sounds wonderful, professor. What would you like to know?”

Remus leaned back in his own chair, “anything, my dear. I am in no rush.”

His student nodded, “well, I’m a half blood - my father is a muggle while my mother is a pureblood. I have a dog/cat, a (dog/cat breed) to be specific, and his name is (dog/cat name). I love potions and of course, Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

Remus laughed at her dog’s name, “(dog/cat name)? Very intriguing, I like it. Continue, please.”

Y/N laughed, “oh, I love playing Gobstones! I’ve played against Bill Weasley before and he has lost so it’s basically a talent.”

Remus sipped his tea, “so you have the weight of the Gobstone champion on your shoulders?”

His student chuckled, “exactly, sir.”

Lupin smiled, “Remus, please.”

The two continued talking for another hour, sharing laughs and many stories that had Remus close to tears. He absolutely loved when Y/N would get up and act out one of her stories, adding more character to the events in her life that made her audience - in this case, Remus - burst into laughter.

They also shared many jokes, most about the wizarding world that stumped the student’s father. One made the professor snort so loud he thought someone would’ve thought a pig was loose in Hogwarts.

Y/N chuckled once more as she thought of another, “Remus, sir. . . how do the Malfoy’s get into bed?”

Remus sipped his tea, “how, my dear?”

She smiled and before she finished her tea, Y/N answered him, “they Slytherin.”

The professor snorted once more as he doubled over his knees, his laughter shaking his shoulders. “Y/N,” he started, looking up at her, “this has been the hardest I’ve ever laughed in a long, long time. Thank you.”

Y/N smiled at her professor, “well thank you for making time and getting to know me, sir. It means a lot to know that you personally wanted to get know who I am.”

Over the hour, they both had also shared stories that nobody else knew, stories about death or deep sadness in their lives. Y/N realized how vulnerable she had been, but trusted in her professor and vise versa. He had told her things Tonks doesn’t even know - it amazed Remus how easily he got along with his student.

Remus stood, gathering Y/N’s books for her as she picked up her bag from the floor. “Thank you, sir,” she said, smiling up at him.

He smiled back, “of course.” Then, he wrapped his arms around her as she placed her hands on his back, “come visit me any time, dear. My door is always open.”

She leaned back, “the same goes to you, professor.” The rest of the year for the two was full of laughter and afternoon tea sessions, and of course, the student beating her teacher in Gobstones.

It was a shame, really. He had so many more things to tell her before he met his demise by a death eater.

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

TLTNL- THE SORTING HAT’S NEW SONG

Sirius took the book even with that knot of unease still residing in him that he refused to acknowledge purely for his friends benefit. If they saw how much his own future problems were worrying him, then they'd be freaking out even more, Sirius never let anything bother him. Instead he started with absolute amusement. Harry was back at school, and even considering all the problems he'd had in previous years there, at least they got more fun out of that place than old Grimmauld could ever offer.

Harry did not want to tell the others that he and Luna were having the same hallucination,

"I think that's pushing bounds a bit, even by magic standards," Lily smirked. "I can't see any two people having the exact same hallucination."

"Gee thanks," Harry rolled his eyes at her.

if that's even what it was. Still he couldn't stop staring at the horses outlines as the carriage went along. Thankfully he was distracted by Ginny asking about that Grubbly-Plank woman being back, and if Hagrid had left?

"He would never," James said at once with absolute conviction.

Remus though, suddenly looked contemplative as he remembered back to the end of last year, and how Hagrid may have been planning a little trip...and then he quickly grew worried of how that could have turned out. He kept his silence though, seeing no point in worrying Harry further until he had proof. Missions like those could take time, longer than a few months, and Hagrid was even tougher than him.

Luna said airily she wouldn't care if he had, he wasn't a good teacher.

"Hey!" Harry, James, and Sirius all snapped at once.

The three glared at the other two, but while Remus looked chagrined and still didn't say anything, Lily shrugged without remorse. "I adore Hagrid and of course I don't want anything to happen to him, but you've all admitted he's not the best teacher. Without the knowledge we have of him with Harry, we'd probably be thinking the same thing."

"Not the point," Sirius muttered in annoyance as he turned back.

Harry, Ron, and Ginny all snapped back at once he was too!

Harry glared at Hermione, and she had to clear her throat before unconvincingly agreeing.

Remus at least gave a weak laugh for that.

Luna was unfazed by the outburst, saying the majority of her house found him a joke.

"Got to admire this girl," Sirius said grudgingly, "she speaks her mind, even when she clearly realizes she touched a nerve."

"She's like Hermione, except a spot more ah, with more of a um," James struggled to put into words how he was processing Luna, and then just let himself die off.

Ron snapped what a rubbish sense of humor that was, but Luna did not seem at all concerned with Ron's tone, but was now watching him avidly.

The others couldn't help agreeing now, Luna certainly had a way about her that even while speaking her mind which so annoyed them of Hermione lately, they couldn't stay mad at this girl as she clearly wasn't speaking for even hurtful intent. It was more of a free spirited comment.

They trundled in silence after that all the way up to the castle and were now climbing out of the carriages, Harry regretting the moment he glanced over and those horses blank white eyes were still there.

Harry still couldn't get these strange creatures out of his mind as he asked, "how come I couldn't see them at the beginning of last year, when I saw Frank Bryce die?"*

That stumped them for a moment, but Remus recovered first and worked out, "you didn't really process his death as more than a dream for a long time, even when Dumbledore confirmed those things you were seeing were real you still seemed to feel detached from them. Then you would have seen his ghost at the same time as-" he had to forcefully stop himself because Harry flinched and looked happy enough with this answer.

Harry had once before had the experience of seeing something that Ron could not, but that had been a reflection in a mirror, something much more insubstantial

"I still think you raise a very good point about Ron's, and most wizards reaction to these types of things though." Lily said with interest. "With the mirror you two just accepted you saw different things, why then does Ron think you're losing it for this same instance?"

"First of all, those little kids wouldn't question if Merlin had appeared they were so new to magic in general," Sirius smirked at her.

"But mostly, it's because we were taught magic has boundaries." James shrugged. "You can't bring people back from the dead, you shouldn't trust things you don't know the magical source of. The mirror was a clearly defined item that showed your deepest desires. This instance however, without any context, Harry is insisting something is as it shouldn't be. Even magic has rules, and magic shouldn't be able to explain that until it does."

Lily still looked interested enough in the idea she would have kept going, but Sirius just didn't care enough to sit around and hear the two go on about this so he kept reading loudly over them.

than a hundred very solid-looking beasts strong enough to pull a fleet of carriages. If Luna was to be believed, the beasts had always been there but invisible. Why, then, could Harry suddenly see them, and why could Ron not?

Sirius really wanted to get that pale tone out of Harry's skin, so he blurted out the first question that came to mind, "think Thestrals can see each other?"**

Harry at least looked interested in this topic as it didn't directly link to him anymore and watched eagerly as Remus considered it for a moment and theorized, "no, I wouldn't think so. Of course we've no real idea, but honestly they may be visible to each other. Of course, perhaps all animals can see them, and the magic concealing them from people other than those who have seen death just don't work on more simplistic creatures. There's an honest debate for both options."

"Thank you Padfoot, you have just given Moony a whole essay to go writing," James snorted in amusement.

Ron prompted Harry to get a move on instead of staring at nothing, and he trudged up to the castle and made his way into the Great Hall. Again he found that every person at every table he passed were pointing and whispering at him. Harry gritted his teeth and pretended he didn't notice.

"Exactly how well were you getting away with that?" Sirius smirked which Harry answered by blushing and muttering.

Luna departed towards the Ravenclaw table while Harry and his friends took seats near Parvati and Lavender. Both sprung apart the moment they saw their approach, and gave unconvincing hellos that didn't fool Harry for a second, they'd been talking about him as well.

"Well they're being as subtle as ever," Lily sniffed in annoyance.

Harry took no care of this as he glanced up at the staff table, still looking for his missing teacher, and was growing even more concerned he was still nowhere in sight.

Ron asked if he'd really left, but Hermione instead offered perhaps he was just hurt.

Harry said no at once, but then there was an uneasy pause as he leaned in and whispered for the two of them alone perhaps he wasn't back yet from the mission Dumbledore had sent him on.

"I'm surprised it took you so long to offer the idea," James said.

"Wanted to cover all our bases he wasn't at school," Harry sighed with disappointment.

"Wonder who's taking care of Fang, or do you think he came along?" Sirius quickly inserted.

They spent a giggling moment picturing all the teachers taking turns to care for Hagrid's dog in his absences, James getting the best laugh as he pictured tiny Professor Flitwick only just reaching Fang's head trying to fit a leash around the pooch.

Ron seemed reassured by the idea, but Hermione turned back to the high table biting at her lip, and noticed someone new.

"I'm guessing the new DADA teacher's already around," Sirius sighed as he gave his friend the stink eye for not being in attendance.

"I'm honestly surprised you haven't run into them yet," Lily rolled her eyes. "Have you lot realized Harry's met three and at least heard mention of every person before he got there."

"No, I hadn't," James blinked in surprise as all those circumstances sure seemed a lot to take in now that he was.

Harry looked back again, now taking every teacher in account, and aside from the normal staff, found the toad like woman.

They all sat there for a moment in confusion as they had no idea what to make of this woman's arrival. There just seemed no reason for it to exist, unless something like the Tournament was happening again, in which case Merlin help them all.

Sirius came out of it first with a hard shake as he demanded, "what, has Fudge got someone attending the school regularly now? I guess she's going to be inviting herself to the feasts and public school events to keep an eye on Dumbledore."

"And Dumbledore's to polite to turn her down," James agreed with his face squidged up in annoyance.

"This is a new low, just unprecedented, even for the Ministry." Remus shook his head in disgust. "I can't believe they're trying to poke their nose into Hogwarts like this."

"Trying and succeeding," Lily muttered with disdain as the idea of her job actively trying to get inside information on the school now boggled her mind. What exactly did this woman think she was going to accomplish by doing this? Where was the motive?

Harry still felt the worst of all, because he was getting a very bad feeling they weren't entirely right, but very close to the mark.

Harry said in surprise it was that Umbridge woman from his trial, she worked for Fudge.

Ron's first response was to sarcastically compliment that pink cardigan.

"Always love Ron noting the important things," Sirius smirked.

Hermione was frowning for a wholly other reason it seemed as she muttered no, surely not.

"Don't know what she's on," Lily said curiously.

"Don't know, but how come no one else new is there either," James brushed off onto more important things. "You should have a new DADA teacher around as well."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, felt a nasty jolt for the effort, and gave in with a shrug. Sirius saved him from having to respond anyways by saying, "maybe he or she just isn't there yet, Moody got there kind of late."

"Fake Moody, and look how well that turned out," Remus grimaced in annoyance.

Harry wasn't sure what she was talking about, but didn't ask as Grubbly-Plank arrived with the group of first years all lining up while McGonagall set up the Sorting Hat.

Sirius was suddenly brimming with excitement as he got the chance to sing the school song this time!

All talk around the hall faded as attention turned to the patched and frayed object, who opened a rip near the brim, and began to sing.

Sirius bounded to his feet and then flopped down on James' other side, squishing him right up next to his wife and leaving no one with any personal space as James eagerly leaned over anyways and the two began in perfect harmony;

Insert fifth year Sorting Hat song.

The two finished with a triumphant high five while the others were all snickering away at the performance, but Remus decided that had indeed earned them some applause which they each took a bow for. Then James promptly shoved Sirius off of him and stated, "if I wanted you sitting on my lap I'd have long since told you."

Sirius was still chuckling as he went back over to his seat, and then theatrically spread himself out so he was invading Harry's personal space this time. Harry's only response was to push his Godfather's elbow out of his face but otherwise ignored the proximity with comfort as he kept going.

The Hat became motionless once more; applause broke out, though it was punctured, for the first time in Harry's memory, with muttering and whispers.

"Ah," Lily nodded to herself as she guessed what that meant. "This would be the first time they've heard a warning in theirs like ours usually held."

"It's been weirder for us hearing these pleasant versions all about the different houses," Remus agreed to Harry's curious look.

James and Sirius only looked more mildly disappointed the hat's actual words was getting more attention than their performance. Sometimes they missed being in the halls and having all eyes focused on them.

Ron was clapping politely with a curious look on his face as he said how the Hat had branched out.

Harry agreed, thinking back on the two he'd heard about the different houses, not about all that advice and such.

Hermione wondered aloud if the Hat had ever done any such thing before.

"I miss childlike ignorance," Remus winced, all of them taking a moment and wishing Harry had asked the same, instead of simply looking resignedly around the room as he must have realized himself the Hat really hadn't been all pleasantries.

Nick agreed the Hat often felt honor-bound to warn the school when-

but was cut off by McGonagall giving a scorching look to the hall.

"It's good the first years learn that look now," James grinned.

"Didn't do you lot any good," Lily snorted.

Nearly Headless Nick placed a see-through finger to his lips and sat back as the muttering came to an abrupt end.

"Was he doing that for himself, or for you?" Sirius chuckled.

The sorting began, the first to come up Abercrombie, Euna who was placed into Gryffindor. The boy plodded off to his seat with pure embarrassment at all the applause, looking as if he'd rather sink through the floor and never be looked at again.

"Honestly, how they don't lead a chant in congratulations is beyond me," James rolled his eyes, though to be honest he was pleased no other first year besides himself had ever tried.

Finally that ended as well, and Dumbledore took to his feet. Harry felt himself relaxing in his seat at the familiar sight. After so many jarring starts to his school year, here was finally something familiar of his headmaster greeting the student body with a welcoming smile.

The smile that flickered across his face at the moment of seeing his Headmaster again during this day was jarred as he began muttering to himself almost unconsciously about how he wished that's where the surprises would end. They all hoped they were just understanding him wrong, that he could just go this year without something happening to him.

He gave an enthusiastic greeting to those within Hogwarts, and then the feast began. Ron began seizing food at once and hardly waiting for it to hit his plate before he began shoveling it into his mouth, while Hermione turned back to Nick and asked for more about those Hat warnings.

Nick turned away from Ron eating with indecent enthusiasm,

Sirius and James were getting a good laugh out of that mental image.

to explain that the Hat was known for giving warnings when it detected periods of danger, and the message was always the same, stand together, unite from within.

Ron haphazardly got the phrase out 'Ow kunnit nofe skusin danger ifzat?'

"Sirius, you can't try to read and laugh at the same time, you sound ridiculous," Lily rolled her eyes at him. "Besides, it's not that funny to watch people stuff their mouths like chipmunks."

"Ron was talking with his mouth full," Harry explained for him, an amused smile himself present at watching Sirius try to reenact that.

His mouth was so full of food it seemed a miracle he made any noise.

Nick asked politely for him to repeat himself while Hermione looked revolted. Ron had to struggle for a moment to swallow before he properly asked how the Hat could know anything about the school being in danger.

"I find it a sad note I understood that the first time," Remus sighed. "I clearly need to have stopped responding to them at some point when that kind of speech makes sense."

"We've no idea what you're talking about," James said saintly while Sirius didn't bother to deny it and kept reading while still half giggling.

Nick reminded the Hat spent the rest of its time in the Headmaster's office, surely it picked up a thing or two.

Harry scoffed if that was really all the advice it could offer, be friends with the Slytherins? He was glaring in particular at Malfoy as he said what a fat chance that was.

"You don't have to be friends with Malfoy to have Slytherin friends," Lily frowned reproachfully at him. "Have you ever even mentioned any others by name except him and his little group? Not all of them are the same you know."

"At the time I didn't," Harry defended, before relenting, "but no, I hardly looked past him when speaking about the house, and I am sorry for that now. I do wish I had taken more opportunity to get to know any others, but a time never came where it wasn't always Malfoy around, so," he finished with an imploring look that she understood, which she did and gave in the argument.

Nick proved that cooperation was always a key to victory. He and the Bloody Baron were good enough friends though from different houses.

Ron said that was just because Nick was too terrified to tell him otherwise.

"What would a ghost have to be terrified of?" Sirius scoffed at Ron's goofy comment.

"Basilisk," James muttered under his breath, but thankful Sirius hadn't lingered for a real answer.

Nick looked affronted as he stated he'd never had a cowardly moment in his life! The noble blood that ran through his veins-

Ron cut in to point out he hasn't got any blood.

Nick was growing so angry his partially severed head was trembling in place as he said back that it was a figure of speech! Surely he was still allowed to use those though food and drink were denied to him!

"Certainly no one's going to stop him," Remus couldn't help a little laugh at both parties entirely over inflating this. "Ron's just mouthing off and now Nick's throwing a ghost tantrum."

"I liked Nick better when he was showing off his severed head to first years," Harry chuckled.

Hermione corrected for Ron that he hadn't meant anything by it, while Ron's mouth was full of food again.

"I take that to mean he was simply eating again while Nick was telling him off," James snorted.

"Don't know why something like this would stop him," Sirius snickered.

He still tried to get out something about iddum eentup sechew, but Nick didn't seem to find this an adequate apology.

"Well what more could he want?" James raised a challenging brow, that smirk still in place.

"Actual words would be a nice start," Lily rolled her eyes at him.

He flew away with a huff down the table while Hermione huffed at him.

Ron demanded to know what he'd done, but she just snapped at him to forget it and the rest of the meal was a huffy silence between the two.

"If she was so offended on Nick's part, she should have said something while he was still around," Remus rolled his eyes.

"She has a tendency to do that a lot lately, speak her mind when the party isn't around," James huffed.

Harry was too used to their bickering to bother trying to reconcile them; he felt it was a better use of his time to eat his way steadily through his steak and kidney pie, then a large plateful of his favorite treacle tart.

Lily suddenly felt a smack deep in her heart as she realized she'd never even asked Harry's favorite food. She'd simply whipped something up like always as her boys usually ate anything, and Harry had as well without a trace of showing dislike. It was another of those small details though, one that she'd have just thought she'd know when her son reached those ages of declaring his favorite foods. She honestly wished sometimes she could put this book down and just sit around for ages, asking him of all his favorite likes and dislikes, but the problem was if they went too long into any conversation he started having a poke at his memories to understand something odd, and then he'd go hurting himself again. Even knowing the good this was doing, she still often wished she could be doing other things regarding her baby that was all grown up.

After the meal was done Dumbledore took to his feet again and began addressing them all, first by stating that all first years were to know, as well as some older students were to be reminded, that the Forbidden Forest was out of bounds. The trio exchanged a smirk for that.

"I don't know what you're smirking about, you've had some pretty horrifying experiences in there," Lily rolled her eyes.

"Just laughing to ourselves of what Dumbledore could mean," Harry batted his eyes innocently.

Filch, the caretaker, had also reminded for the four-hundred and sixty-second time,

"I honestly believe that he's kept count to," Remus nodded.

that magic was not permitted in the corridors, nor a number of objects, the list of which can be found on the man's office door.

"And there's always a high demand to keep that updated," James rolled his eyes.

"Especially considering how many horrid students go out of their way to keep adding to said list," Sirius tacked on with an affronted look at the idea he actually held for a few seconds.

He continued on to a few staffing changes, starting with Grubbly-Plank who would be taking Care of Magical Creatures.

Harry made a guttural noise of protest as he tried to fight the book away from Sirius, exclaiming, "he didn't say for how long! Surely it's not permanent!"

Sirius managed to win the fight and keep the book in his possession even as he gave Harry a sympathetic look while answering, "relax pup, I'm positive Hagrid's fine and Dumbledore's just trying not to draw attention to him being gone by not bringing up his name."

"It's impossible not to draw attention to him when he's not where he's supposed to be," Harry said back belligerently as he sat back with a huff. Sirius winced, wishing he had a better answer for him as he tried to move on.

He also introduced Professor Umbridge, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Five jaws dropped in a stunning silence.

This was somehow even weirder than the idea of Moody teaching! That woman worked for the Ministry! So unless something had happened in a very short time from her getting fired as Senior Undersecretary, a highly unlikely scenario given her clear defense of them during Harry's trial, than that meant she was working there and at Hogwarts now! She was actually working at Hogwarts!

Harry felt a nasty tingling racing over the back of his right hand, his left moving to cover the faint white markings as he was truly derailed from Hagrid and left with a pit of worry for this news. Never before, not even Lockhart and Quirrell, had set off such a bad feeling in him as realizing he'd be spending a year in this woman's classroom.

Lily found her voice first, and it wasn't pretty as she said in a flat, icy tone, "just what is going on here? The Ministry at Hogwarts? Why on earth did Dumbledore hire this woman?"

"I'm drawing a blank," Remus winced, burrowing himself that much further into his seat as he imagined the scenario while he'd been at school, and how much worse his life could have been at the time. Considering all the things Harry got up to on a regular basis, this could be a new level of hell for the poor boy as well.

James and Sirius exchanged a truly uneasy look for this prospect as well, nothing was sitting right about this interference to their school, but Sirius forced himself to keep going no matter that feeling just to get a few more facts.

There was a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause, during which Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged slightly panicked looks; Dumbledore had not said for how long Grubbly-Plank would be teaching.

"That's the bit you caught on?" Lily wasn't that surprised, but was smiling at her son for his one track mind on his friend.

"How would I know it was so weird, sure the Ministry hadn't anything to do with Hogwarts before now," Harry shrugged, "but I was more concerned with my friend first."

Dumbledore switched topics to the house Quidditch team tryouts, but oddly stopped for a moment and glanced at Umbridge.

"What's she got to do with Quidditch trials?" James wrinkled his nose in disgust as he tried to wave Sirius onto this very important topic.

Harry felt a knot forming in his stomach at the idea for some reason he had no care to investigate.

It took a moment for everyone to realize Dumbledore had stopped and taken his seat, because the woman had stood to make her own.

Sirius looked like someone had taken his broom out from beneath him as he gazed down at that bit before glancing up in even more confusion. No one had ever cut Dumbledore off from one of his speeches. Just who did this woman think she was?

The headmaster clasped his hands politely in front of him and now gazed at her as if he desired nothing more than to hear this.

"Dumbledore's had some odd moments, but this tops them all." Remus was gazing blearily forward like he was trying to understand some foreign language as Sirius read this.

The rest of the staff weren't taking it so well, Sprout's eyebrows disappearing right into her flyaway hair, and McGonagall's mouth was as thin as Harry had ever seen it. Many of the students were smirking at each other, this woman obviously had no idea how things at Hogwarts went.

"I'll be happy to inform her," Sirius said in an entirely pleasant tone that covered nothing of the intent behind those words.

Her voice was a girlish as Harry remembered, and he could feel a powerful dislike rising inside of him more powerful than ever.

Harry was getting double the amount of those feelings on him now, the combination of her predisposition and his memories trying to warn him all culminating with a truly ugly look set in place that honestly gave the lot of them chills. What on earth does this woman do?!

She cleared her throat with a little hem, hem, and began how lovely it was to be here and see such happy little faces.

Remus raised an imperious brow at the start of this, demanding, "what are they, five?"

She just knew they were all going to be very good friends.

Most students exchanged looks at this barely concealing grins.

James and Sirius weren't even bothering to do as such.

Parvati whispered to Lavender she'd be her friend so long as she didn't have to borrow that cardigan.

Lily let out a giggle of her own.

She paused then, gave another little hem, hem, to clear her throat and then launched into a more monotone speech she'd clearly learned by heart all about The Ministry of Magics respect of the rare gift that was wizardry and the ancient unique skills those posses in the noble profession of teaching.

Sirius could already start to feel himself fidgeting with boredom. Yeah, teachers were great, could Harry leave now.

She paused to give a little bow to the staff, none of whom returned in kind. McGonagall now looked almost hawklike.

"That is a genuinely new expression, I'm jealous we never got to see," James said randomly as he pulled out his wand and began twirling it in his fingers with boredom.

She continued along noticing nothing that every headmaster and headmistress had brought something new along to add to the history of Hogwarts, which should always be encouraged for without progress there was stagnation. However, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for traditions require no tinkering. Balance then, for permanence and change...

Lily was starting to get a bad feeling for this as she watched Sirius critically, who was now trying to mime Binns and doing a fair job of it. She wasn't falling for it though, this woman's first day she'd already begun showing a level of disrespect for the Headmaster, now she was giving a whole speech on the structure of the school and how that could be...progressed. She still couldn't shake the thought that someone so directly involved in the Ministry was there, just what was going on?

Harry could already feel his attention slipping away, turning to people watch instead. Cho was leaning in to start chatting with one of her curly haired friends, Luna had pulled out her copy of The Quibbler and was looking through that again. Ernie was one of the few still watching, but his glassy eyes showed nothing was coming through. Surely it was only the Prefect badge gleaming on his chest that was giving him the persistence of faking.

James and Sirius weren't acting much better, both becoming fidgety and bored as Sirius' eyes were already trying to skip down to the bottom where this was done, none of them seemed to particularly care whatever was being said right now, she'd already lost their respect for the way she'd treated Harry at his trial. Remus was still listening, but passively, he couldn't work up much care for whatever this woman said and as of now it mostly sounded like some pompous bit to impress, and was managing to have the opposite effect. In fact it was rather dumb, to start speaking to them as if single digit children and then launch into such a scholarly speech.

Harry was the only one keeping such sharp attention and absorbing every word. At fifteen he may not have given any more of a care than any of his fellow students, but that intuition was back full force now telling him to keep an eye on this one and he wasn't going to be ignoring that.

Umbridge seemed not to notice she was losing her audience, as many students weren't even bothering to whisper as she droned on.

Remus couldn't help a little chuckle at that insert, already imagining what he and his friends could get away with in class if this was how she was going to be acting now.

Only Hermione and the staff continued diligently taking in every word, though a quick read of their faces showed it wasn't tasteful.

She concluded herself with the act of pruning what practices out to be prohibited.

By this point James was slumped over in his seat mock snoring and Sirius couldn't recollect a thing he'd just said in regards to her. They were all just glad it was over and were already hoping Harry would start skipping her classes right off the bat.

She took her seat and Dumbledore began applauding, but before anyone could realize the change and join in, the Headmaster took back to his feet.

James jerked upright, mock wiping drool from his lip and muttering, "sorry Professor, miss anything important?"

Sirius was just snickering that Dumbledore hadn't allowed any proper applause to happen as it shouldn't.

He thanked her for the illuminating speech, before going back on track...

Hermione wasn't listening as she said that had certainly been illuminating.

Ron asked that she'd enjoyed that? That was the most dull thing he'd ever heard in his life, and he'd grown up with Percy.

"That's saying something," Remus smirked.

Hermione corrected she'd said illuminating, not entertaining.

"Because that clarified everything," Lily snorted.

It certainly explained a few things.

Harry asked in surprise it did? That had sounded like a loaded waffle to him.

"And not even a tasty, good waffle," Sirius sighed tragically.

Hermione grimly told him there were very important things hidden in that waffle.

"Jelly filling?" Remus asked innocently.

Ron had no clue what she meant, and Hermione quoted parts of the speech back for them.

"Thought she was just spouting things about tradition and such," Remus scratched at his ear without concern. "What's Hermione getting so worked up over?"

"Hermione gets worked up over everything," James rolled his eyes.

"Usually with good reason," Harry half-heartedly defended.

Ron told her to explain herself already, and Hermione said through gritted teeth it meant the Ministry was interfering at Hogwarts.

That caught all of their attention. Sirius began fidgeting uneasily with the pages as he thought that over, looking up hopefully when Lily said, "I, but they, why?" Well that wasn't helpful.

"I, Fudge is out of his mind!" Remus yelped in concern.

"If that's even what's going on," James persisted in utter denial. "Hermione could be wrong, there could be another reason for her being there..." he trailed off and looked hopefully around for someone to offer up said suggestion, but they were all coming up blank as what Hermione said really was the only explanation for a Ministry employ also being a teacher!

Sirius forced himself to keep going with a now dry throat in thought for all the implications this could hold for his school. Just what was the Ministry playing at?

A surge of noise began around them, Dumbledore had clearly dismissed them.

"Hey, we never got to find out when the Quidditch tryouts are," James pouted.

Lily smacked him and muttered something about priorities.

Hermione had to remind Ron it was their job to escort the first years, and Ron hopped to attention by shouting for the midgets.

This was so unexpected everyone gave a surprised burst of laughter, happy Ron was always around for that at least, even if it didn't erase one spot of worry in them.

Hermione scolded him not to call them that, before saying in a clear and commanding voice for the first years to follow her.

"I can at least see why she was made Prefect, we always knew she'd take well to authority," James rolled his eyes.

Harry watched them shuffle towards his friends, and thought to himself there was no way he'd been that young looking when he'd first arrived.

"Actually I'm confident you did," Remus smirked, "since I can still all to easily picture James that same way still, just replace Sirius with Ron."

"Nah, cause those two were at the front trying to lead the way when they had no idea where they were going," Lily reminded indulgently, at least giving Harry a moment to laugh at the idea.

He grinned at Euan as he passed, but the boy squeaked in fright and looked horrified at Harry, who's grin slipped away just as fast.

"Merlin's pants, just what was that Prophet saying about you?" Sirius demanded tartly as the exact same thing happened to Harry in here.

"First years have always been intimidated by him," Lily tried without much hope. "Surely it can't all be because of those lies."

Harry chose not to respond, instead gazing at the fire and trying to count in his head how long this nightmare would last.

He quickly departed the Hall and after a few secret passages was making his way up on his own.

Harry felt the nasty chills creeping up his spine for being separated from his friends twice already since he was at the school in his first night. He was wishing he'd found Neville and gone along with him, or even dogged the twins up to their tower. He truly hated this feeling of isolation he could already sense pressing in on him from all sides.

Harry felt stupid now for not having seen this coming. He'd reappeared with Cedric dead at the end of last year, and then everyone had gone home to think him a liar.

They were all fidgeting with unease at the reemergence of this topic. Surely the students wouldn't really gawk at Harry for that though...and none of them could deny they honestly believed it.

Harry reached Gryffindor tower before he realized that he did not know the new password.

"That's a recurring thing for you," James managed a sarcastic laugh.

"Hermione's almost always the one who knows it," Harry muttered without looking at him.

The Fat Lady refused to allow him in because of this, when Neville swooped in to rescue him.

Harry did feel a grin reaper for that at least, thankful he did still have a friend to rely on even if it wasn't one of his best friends.

The others were just blinking in surprise of this change, vividly remembering Neville's previous occurrences with this problem and some of the trouble it had caused.

He jogged right up to Harry and declared it was Mimbulus Mimbletonia!

The Fat Lady claimed this as correct, and swung open for them.

"Naww," Lily cooed with delight at the bright smile she could all to easily picture on Alice's face being passed down to her son for this moment.

"I'll bet you McGonagall had something to do with that," Sirius chuckled.

"I can almost picture it," Remus agreed. "If Neville sent word along to Sprout he was bringing that plant, and Sprout mentioned it to McGonagall..." he trailed off with a soft laugh that they all joined in on for this small but adorable little moment.

Their common room was a comfy as remembered, circular and full of squashy armchairs and a bright fire place with two sets of stairs leading to the male and female dormitories. They passed Fred and George hanging up something on the noticeboard as they went upstairs.

The boys perked up with interest at that, anything the twins got up to they always wanted to know more about.

Inside their own were Dean and Seamus already hanging up their favorite sports teams posters.

"How come they don't just leave them up in between years, it's not as if we switch beds," Harry had never bothered to ask before.

"The house-elves would throw them out," Sirius sighed. "Whatever you don't take, you won't see again."

Their voices abruptly cut off as Harry entered, and he began to wonder if that was paranoia telling him they were talking about him as well.

"It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you," Remus muttered under his breath, all of them wincing in fear of Harry's dorm mates even treating him like this. Surely at least they must know Harry wasn't crazy, they spent too much time around him!

Dean greeted him cheerfully enough asking how his holiday had been.

It would have taken Harry all night to relate the event, so he just said not bad.

"Got attacked by dementors, nearly expelled, and discovered the secret group trying to stop Voldemort all while dealing with my emotional godfather," Sirius ticked off on his fingers. "I really don't see how much harder that is."

"Well that's all easy for you to say, considering you'd refuse to give any further details," James snickered as Harry at least tried for a smile in agreement. It wasn't working too well, he could already feel a fight coming, not something he was looking forward to in his dorm with someone he at least considered a passing friend with any of those boys.

When Harry returned the question, Dean said it had been better than Seamus'.

Seamus took his time in setting up his poster, not facing Harry as he answered his mam hadn't wanted him to come back.

Harry watched those around him wince, but he wasn't entirely sure he understood that sad look of familiarity on their face.

Thankfully his mum explained for him, "that was a common recurrence during our school days. Parents spent a lot of time going back and forth between thinking their families were safest at home together, and then putting them back in school for a time when things seemed to be going quiet so they could have an education, than flipping right back. Looks like that's starting again."

Harry frowned in sympathy at the idea, but for some reason he wasn't entirely sure that covered his own building problem with whom he was now sure involved Seamus.

Harry was startled at the news, while Seamus still didn't look up at him, instead now digging out his pajamas.

Harry twitched in concern for that, but felt like he was the only one noticing this little oddity on Seamus's part. The others were still looking on in sympathy for the plight.

Harry asked why, this was such a Dursley like reaction he found it hard to believe Seamus' witch mother could do this.

"That's not just a trait of there's, regrettably," Remus sneered. "Fear makes people do the most foolish things."

Harry still wished those things would stop involving him already.

Seamus completed dressed himself before answering in a stiff voice it was because of Harry.

That caught them off guard, but only for a moment until they realized that it wasn't fear of Voldemort's return on Mrs. Finnegan's part like they'd assumed. Instead it was much worse, and now everyone was as tense as Harry, ready for a fight to break out.

Harry snapped back what that could mean, and Seamus took his time answering it was him, and Dumbledore-

Harry cut off to take that to mean she believed Harry a liar and Dumbledore a fool?

Seamus finally looked at him as he said yes.

James could feel a biting comment on the tip of his tongue he was just begging to lash out with, no one got to talk to his son like that!

Harry did not respond farther as he turned to get himself ready for bed. He was entirely sick of being the person everyone stared at and talked about.

Lily could feel her lip trembling for several reasons, only one of which was anger now. What she wouldn't give for this not to be happening to her child, when he'd never asked for any of these things to happen to him. He'd never gone out of his way and brought any of these people down on him, yet he was constantly used by nearly every damn person in the wizarding world who'd never even bothered to meet him.

His thoughts savagely centered around if anyone had any idea what he went through, finishing with what a stupid woman Mrs. Finnigan was.

No one was currently thinking much kinder.

He made to get into bed, but Seamus asked what had really happened that night, with Cedric?

"Would it really help if I gave details!" Harry hissed furiously. "Do they all really want to know I looked in him in the eye as his body-" he shuddered and broke off, couldn't even continue in anger.

Sirius hesitated, wanting to offer some word of comfort to Harry, they all did, but this wasn't something you could shoot a whisky over and force yourself to keep going. That wasn't a Death Eater you'd seen fall that you could convince yourself was done for some tangible good reason. Harry had been forced to see a brutal murder done all to get to him, and now he was surrounded by children who wanted the gory details without considering what they were asking for.

Harry realized what he'd said aloud, why the others had gone silent and so quietly asked Sirius to keep going. Sirius didn't entirely want to, he still worried that Harry deserved something to be said to him, but he supposed he should give himself something to do until he could come up with that.

Seamus sounded nervous and eager at the same time. Dean, who had been bending over his trunk trying to retrieve a slipper, went oddly still and Harry knew he was listening hard.

Harry demanded what he was being asked for? Just read the Daily Prophet like his stupid mother, that would tell him everything!

Sirius felt a bark of laughter escape him, knowing he'd back Harry in a moment in saying much worse to any of these prats.

Seamus snapped right back not to drag his mother into this, which Harry returned not to call him a liar than! Seamus snarled not to talk to him like that!

"Yet he acts as if he can talk to Harry any way he wishes," Remus snarled.

"Just like Malfoy, can't take what they dish out," James sneered.

Harry said he'd talk to anyone any way he pleased calling him a liar! If it bothered him so much, take it up with McGonagall, stop his mummy worrying-

Seamus snarled for Potter to keep his mother out of this!

"Then he shouldn't have brought her into this," Sirius pointed out with an unfriendly smile.

Lily had a few things she'd like to say as well, but she was at least trying to restrain herself by running her hand through her hair. She knew the boys only saw themselves as backing Harry, but she at least liked to think she wasn't egging on the fight.

Ron came in then to see Harry itching to go for his wand, and Seamus' hands balled up for a fight.

"What a thing to walk in on," muttered Remus as he shook his head imagining Ron just walking into the middle of this and how off that must be.

Seamus turned at once to tell Harry was having a go at his mother. Ron tried to defend that wasn't possible, he wouldn't- but Harry shouted back he wouldn't be if she'd stop believing every stinking thing the Daily Prophet wrote!

Comprehension dawned across Ron's face as he gave an uneasy look between the two.

Sirius had his eyes narrowed dangerously, still smarting over Ron's treatment of Harry last year and how he'd claimed to not believe Harry about the start of that stupid tournament. Ron of course knew the truth of this situation, but he supposedly should have known better then, and had apparently spent that time hanging around Dean and Seamus. If Ron actually tried to play peacemaker instead of backing his friend, Sirius would have a few things to say about him next.

Seamus kept his focus on Harry as he said maybe he would go tell their head of house he didn't want to share a dorm with a madman.

Ron cut in that was out of line, his ears already starting to glow red.

No one else understood the almost relieved smile Sirius got there for a moment, but he didn't elaborate, now reading on with just a touch less venom now that Harry had backup.

Seamus snapped if Ron believed all that nonsense than he was mad too!

Ron jabbed his badge as she shouted back that he was a mad Prefect, so unless Seamus wanted detention, he'd watch his mouth!

For a moment Seamus was clearly thinking that whatever he had to say would be worth the detention,

James half wished he would say it, let Ron put that power to some good use right out of the gate. No one noticed Harry pale a couple extra shades at the mention of a detention, his right hand fidgeting up a storm.

but then he instead tore the hangings around his bed trying to get them out of the way so he could be out of sight.

Ron turned on the other two, demanding if anyone else's parents had a problem with Harry?

"I do love the way he phrases that," Remus couldn't help but snort. "Not them, but their parents."

"Most children do follow their parents beliefs. Not all of them," Lily amended when she saw Sirius roll his eyes in contempt, "but it's a fair question."

Dean put his hands up in surrender his parents were Muggles. They didn't know anything about anything because he wasn't stupid enough to tell them.

"That's so sad," Lily murmured, but with understanding. She'd rarely confided in her parents all of the gory details she often heard of from Voldemort's reign, but she couldn't bare leaving them completely ignorant either. Not exclusive commentary, some things she couldn't bare sharing about her world in fear it would make her parents fear her like Petunia did. She hadn't her sister to talk to, and after a certain point no friend either, she'd needed someone, and her mother had always been there for her even if she hadn't always understood Lily's tearful yet forced normal conversations.

Seamus snapped that wasn't like his mother, she could weasel anything out of anyone.

"He says that like it's a good thing," James had his head cocked to the side in agitation as he assessed that.

Dean's mum didn't get the chance to read the Prophet, the details about how the Wizengamot and the International of Confederation had sacked Dumbledore for losing his marbles-

Neville cut in to say his gran found that rubbish. She'd always said Voldemort would be back one day, so if Dumbledore said he was, than he was.

"You sure know how to cause a scene Harry," Sirius was full blown smiling at that. "Walk into a room, and suddenly you've got people declaring themselves to your side."

Harry tried to flatten his hair while he couldn't come up with anything to say but gratitude for Neville and his gran.

Seamus had nothing to respond to that with as he fixed his curtains and stormed into bed. Silence fell as Harry was left to his own mind, shaken by the fight. He'd always gotten on well with Seamus, how many more people would he come across who thought him lying, or unhinged?

They were all twitching uncomfortably as the fight broiled down and now Harry was left to his own mind again. This was a passing kid whom they had no real feelings towards other then as one of Harry's dorm mates, but he made a good point. Just how many people was this going to keep happening to? When would Sirius' prediction come true, and Voldemort would finally be revealed? Just how many people would Harry have to keep fighting with just to make himself heard, and how many would come groveling back after the fact to try and sucker back up to him. None of the answers to those questions left anything good in this future.

Had this been what Dumbledore had been fighting against all summer? Was he angry at Harry for getting him mixed up in this, and that's why Dumbledore had been ignoring him?

"He would never," Remus said at once. "Honestly Harry, he's never gotten into contact with you before this summer either. I agree circumstances had changed and you should have been told more, but Dumbledore isn't taking this out on you."

"Then why hasn't he bothered to even look at me, especially at the trial!" Harry persisted, this had clearly lingered with him.

"I'm sure there must be a reason," he tried to soothe, which didn't come across very effectively since he began fidgeting with unease he had no real answer.

Sirius looked between the two before shaking his head in defeat, hoping they got some answers soon, or Harry was going to drive himself crazy soon trying to find answers from himself rather than waiting on them.

Harry pummeled his pillow as he wondered just how many more attacks from people like Seamus he'd have to suffer through before the truth came out.

"Chapter's over," Sirius groaned in disgust as he hesitated giving the book to Harry. The poor boy already looked so agitated on his first day there, it felt like nothing had been going right for him for ages, and that deeply contemplative look he still had in place made it feel like nothing good was coming.

HPHPHPHP

*Thanks to aaquater for the question!

**Thank maana999 for the question!

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #The Life that Never Lived #OotP #HP #Marauders #Jilly #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

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umbry-fic · 3 years

Text

The Revenge Plot

Summary: On a lazy afternoon, Lloyd hatches a scheme to prank Raine. Genis gets pulled in against his will. Colette is just happily along for the ride.

Will Raine figure it out? Will the three succeed?

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving, Genis Sage, Raine Sage Relationships: Colette Brunel & Lloyd Irving & Genis Sage, Genis Sage & Raine Sage Rating: G Word Count: 4712 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 01/04/2021

Notes: A fun little gen fic for April Fool's Day featuring the Iselia trio!

~~~

“We would have tricked Professor Raine and gotten our revenge at the same time!” Lloyd finished. His voice, the scratching of a singular pen nib against paper, the occasional flap of pages turning and the creaking of his chair were the only sounds filling the quiet classroom.

The three of them, Lloyd, Genis and Colette, were the only ones still left in the Iselia Schoolhouse. The sun was setting, casting the entire room in different shades of muted reds and oranges. The shadows cast by the trees outside the windows stretched across the desks, resembling gnarly, bent fingers that shifted. Lloyd and Colette were scrambling to finish the homework that was due tomorrow and had agreed to stay back in the classroom after school to finish it. Genis had no reason to stay. He’d finished the next two week’s worth of homework.

Genis had crossed his arms and claimed he wanted to do supplementary exercises. So he would be staying as well!

Much to Genis’ relief, the two of them hadn’t tried to refute this reason. If they had, Genis would have shot back with an excuse of pitying the two of them for not having the tenacity to even finish one page of exercises. That would have been enough to shut them up. Hopefully. That was the plan, at least.

Colette nodded eagerly, gaze fixed on Lloyd and chin nestled on her palm, having long given up on actually doing her math homework. The textbook on her table had been opened to the page of multiplication practices for the last ten minutes. Not a single word had been written on it, her pen instead laying uncapped next to it, having left a trail of ink down its side. The time had instead been spent raptly listening to Lloyd while experiencing a growing sense of awe, eyes widening as he went through his plan. It sounded smart! Who would have thought?

Genis, on the other hand, had his head buried in his textbook and was doing his best to ignore Lloyd’s continuous talking, pen scribbling down equation after equation. But he couldn’t tune it out completely, and it was starting to get very annoying.

Lloyd, who was sitting in his chair backwards so he was facing his friends, arms hugging the backrest and legs swinging in the air, grinned. “So? What do you think, Genis?”

With an annoyed huff, Genis loudly snapped his textbook closed and slammed it upright on the desk, glaring at Lloyd over it. “I’ve only been half-listening to your mindless yammering and even then I can tell your plan is ridiculous. You should be doing your homework, not being a distraction! Do you want to get detention tomorrow?”

Lloyd winced at the thought of spending a beautiful sunny afternoon trapped in here again, writing “I’m sorry” over and over on the blackboard until his fingers were completely smudged white with chalk and so raw he thought they might bleed. It would be great if he never had to go through that again for the rest of his life.

“I couldn’t focus. It’s not my fault all of the math questions are impossible.” Lloyd pouted, starting to rock the chair on its legs. Colette worried, with how far back Lloyd was tipping the chair, that he might just fall over. “So I came up with this instead.”

Genis groaned, resisting the urge to chuck the textbook at Lloyd’s head. He would leave the physical violence to his sister. “If you can come up with such a ridiculous prank, you have the time to finish your homework.”

“I was asking you what you thought of it! You still haven’t answered.”

“I think it’s quite good!” Colette spoke up. “But Lloyd, your -”

“Explain to me exactly how you’re going to clear this classroom of students on a school day?” Genis asked smugly, interrupting Colette’s attempt to warn Lloyd of his dangerous chair rocking behaviour. He could bet Lloyd hadn’t thought of that. This should be enough to stump Lloyd and get him to rethink pulling a prank on Raine. Why was he even trying to do that anyway? Was he asking for death?

“That’s where you come in, Genis,” Lloyd replied, stretching his arm out to point straight at Genis’ face. Genis gaped. What? Himself? How did he even play into this idiotic scheme?

“You get to go around town the night before telling everyone that school’s off the next day. You’re Professor Raine’s brother, so everyone will believe you!”

“I - H - how did you even come up with that?” Genis was at a loss for words. The worst thing was that Lloyd’s idea made sense. What had the world come to for such a miracle to occur?

Did Lloyd have a brain somewhere in that ridiculously thick skull of his?

“Dunno, just thought of it,” Lloyd said nonchalantly, further rendering Genis speechless. Just thought of it??? “So, you in?”

“No!” Genis protested. “Do whatever you want, but I’m not pranking my sister!” He wasn’t insane enough to agree to this. If they pulled this off, what would Raine do in retaliation? Make Lloyd carry four buckets of water instead of two? A week’s worth of detention? Make him sleep in the dark? Just the thought of it was enough to make him want to cower.

The smile on Lloyd’s face wasn’t dropping, however. It was unnerving. Did Lloyd still think he could be convinced? How?

“Then you leave me no choice.” Lloyd tipped the chair towards Genis, leaning closer over the desk. Genis scooted his chair back, attempting to put as much distance between the two of them as possible. “I invoke the sports meet. You remember, don’t you?”

Colette cringed at the increasingly loud creaking sounds coming from the chair, the harsh sound almost deafening to her. Did the other two not notice it? Were they too engrossed in their conversation? Was that a crack running down one of the chair legs?!!

“The sports… meet...” Genis trailed off as realisation hit him like a lightning strike.

Every year, at the insistence of the mayor, the school held a sports meet where the students were divided into two groups and pitted against each other in various activities. It was sweaty, loud, competitive, and Genis hated it with a passion. Every student needed to be assigned at least one activity, and no matter how many times he had pleaded with his sister, she had refused to budge on the matter. School regulations were school regulations, she had said, and what kind of school teacher would she be if she let him off easy just for being her brother?

After three years of embarrassing himself and letting the whole world know of his absolute lack of athletic abilities, he had grown tired of it. At last month’s edition of the annual sports meet, he had brokered a deal with Lloyd - take his spot at the 100-metre sprint, and Lloyd could have one favour, any favour.

Thank the Goddess Raine hadn’t noticed anything amiss. Either that, or she had chosen to stay silent.

“You’re using your favour for this?” Genis spluttered, starting to panic. “I thought you were going to ask me to do your homework for a week or something!”

To be honest, Genis had completely forgotten he’d ever made that promise. He had expected Lloyd to call in his favour within a day, but there had been complete silence from Lloyd’s end over this matter. For it to return now, of all times, to bite him in the back…

“A promise is a promise. Right, Genis?”

Genis remained silent. There was no way to refute that statement. He had, indeed, made that promise. And Raine had always told him, since young, to never renege on them.

Lloyd had, for once, well and truly cornered him. Had he planned this all along?

No, it couldn’t be. Genis refused to believe it. Lloyd wasn’t smart enough to play that long of a game. It was just a lucky coincidence.

Lloyd grinned, leaning back with his arms crossed behind his head, causing the chair’s front two legs to come off the floor. “So I guess that’s settled! It's a great opportunity to get Professor Raine to loosen up a little! We’ll deal with the details some other time. As for the tomatoes, Colette, can you borrow some from your grandmother’s garden?”

Colette nodded, frowning at what she was very certain was a crack on the chair’s leg. “I can ask Grandma; she’d probably give some to me without asking any questions. But Lloyd, you should stop rocking your chair.”

Lloyd blinked at Colette in confusion, cocking his head. “Huh? Why -”

A resounding “crack” echoed throughout the classroom as one of the chair’s legs split in half in an explosion of wood splinters, pitching the chair to the side and throwing Lloyd onto the floor.

“Lloyd!” Colette cried in worry, running over and kneeling next to the groaning boy on the floor. “Are you alright? Does it hurt? Are you bleeding? Do I…"

Genis paid no attention to any of this, sinking down in his seat and putting his head in his hands. He was embroiled in this ridiculous scheme now, definitely for the worst. He could only hope that Lloyd failed in his machinations or came to his senses.

Even if they successfully pulled this off, the only result awaiting them were the graves they would have dug for themselves.

He supposed he had his answer now.

The fact that Lloyd had ever considered trying to prank his sister proved, once and for all, that he was a mindless idiot.

~~~

One Week Later

Genis stuffed his feet into his shoes, staring out the window at the unnaturally dark sky. It was the middle of summer, and on any other day, the sun would have been happily smiling down at the world, even in the early evening.

Just his luck that the day before Lloyd’s… revenge plot (calling it that left a sour taste in his mouth), the sun would be hidden behind a barrage of storm clouds, thunder faintly rumbling as lightning lit up the sky.

He would hate getting caught in the rain while running around Iselia doing Lloyd’s bidding. It’d just be rubbing salt on an already open wound.

Genis sighed. Might as well bite the bullet and get it over and done with. Lloyd had at least promised him that he wouldn’t need to turn up tomorrow for the actual deed. Maybe Raine would never know he was part of this!

...

No. There was absolutely no way Raine wouldn’t figure it out. No matter what, he would be dead by the end of tomorrow.

Speaking of Raine, his sister should be preparing for tomorrow’s lesson right about now. She almost always stuck to her daily routine - eat breakfast (prepared by him), head to the schoolhouse, conduct her lessons, eat her packed lunch (also prepared by him), organise any necessary detention or supplementary sessions, come home, eat dinner (cooked by him, what else did you expect?), prepare tomorrow’s lessons… She carved out some time, especially on weekends, to read up on ruins and, of course, spend some time with him. They could talk about anything: more complicated magic incantations, the most recent book they had read, the insane things Lloyd got up to… Countless topics, skirting around the one thing they wouldn’t bring up unless they had to.

But they were both creatures of routine - perhaps that provided a much-needed sense of security to combat the ever-present fear that their deepest secret would be unearthed, here, in a place where they had finally found peace, much like it had before. History always repeated itself. That was how the saying went.

Maybe Raine did need to loosen up a little.

Well. He would get going. There should be no chance of being caught now and raising Raine’s suspicions -

A hand landed on his shoulder, causing his heart to jump out of his chest as a familiar voice was heard from behind him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Holding his breath and praying his absolute hardest to the Goddess, Genis turned around slowly, trying to maintain a straight face. Raine stared down at him, unimpressed, one eyebrow raised as she crossed her arms, awaiting his answer. How had she even gotten behind him without making any sound?

Lloyd had laughed at him when he’d said, once, that Raine was a silent predator. But you had to be there to believe it! She had struck terror into his heart ever since he was seven, when she’d caught him stealing from the cookie jar and grounded him for a whole week.

He’d been forced to eat Raine’s cooking for that entire period. He sometimes still had nightmares about the writhing tentacles he’d had to consume.

“I was going over to Lloyd’s to help him with math again. You know how he is with fractions.” He was going to have to congratulate himself later for keeping a stable voice. He had no idea how he was managing it.

“At this time of day?” Raine replied, frowning as she glanced out the window.

Steeling himself to come up with some plausible excuse, Genis opened his mouth -

“I’m worried it’ll rain while you’re out there. At least take a raincoat. I wouldn’t want you catching a cold.”

“Oh, right.” Genis accepted the raincoat his sister had grabbed off the clothes rack and stuffed into his hands, staring down at the grey plastic, a small smile forming on his face. “Thanks. I’ll… get going, then.”

“Take care. And don’t stay out too late, alright?” Raine opened the door, stepping back. “I will punish you if you turn up to school late tomorrow.”

“Can’t you just wake me up and take me with you?” Genis complained, stepping out of the house, still smiling.

“No. My answer is final. I will not accept any dissent over this issue.” Raine leaned against the doorframe, the corner of her mouth curving upwards slightly.

Genis waved goodbye to his sister, setting off down the footpaths of Iselia towards his closest schoolmate’s house. It’s not like he expected Raine to change her tune.

Stubborn, overly strict, prone to violence, but diligent, protective and caring. That was his sister.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

~~~

The Next Day

Raine figured out something was wrong the moment she stepped foot into the schoolyard.

Shutting the book on the Balacruf Mausoleum that her head had been buried in just moments before, she closed her eyes and tried to identify the source for the sense of wrongness that had arisen.

Come on. Concentrate…

Ah. That was it. The complete silence.

Teaching at a schoolhouse that catered to children ranging from the ages of 8 to 16 meant there was always some noise, from somewhere, reaching her ears. Excited chattering, the scraping of desk legs against the floor, the creaking of old wooden boards that supported the weight of children, chasing each other around. One got used to it until it became nothing more than background noise that she didn't actively register. Nonetheless, it was a collection of sounds that brought comfort.

All that sound, carrying the weight of life with it, was gone now, drained from the schoolhouse and leaving it dark and soulless. The children, playing skip rope, catching or hopscotching in the dirt of the schoolyard until she shooed them in for class were absent as well.

There was not a single hint of life. The air was still. Silence dominated.

Was there no one here at all? Hmm.

She had suspected something was off ever since last night. Genis seldom left the house so late, and for Lloyd to do his homework at that time of day? It was unbelievable. Nothing, no force in this mortal world, could make Lloyd Irving finish his homework. It infuriated her to no end, but… It was also slightly endearing; part of what defined one of her beloved students.

So this was what Genis had been up to last night. She’d contemplated asking for the truth or just forbidding him from leaving, but had seen no point in doing it. He was no longer the tiny, vulnerable bundle she had cradled in both love and fear, wondering if they would survive, wondering how she could ever create a happy life for her brother. Genis would be turning 12 next year, growing into himself. Maybe this was part of a rebellious phase. Who knew?

That thought brought with it both a sense of loss and a dizzy, wondrous, beautiful sense of joy.

Not too long ago, she would have never thought they would get this far.

Raine reached the door to the schoolhouse, trying the door handle and finding it coated in some... thick substance. She brought her hand back, red, viscous liquid dripping lazily onto the dirt. Now that she looked properly, there were random puddles of this same liquid scattered haphazardly around the school grounds, almost like it had overflowed from some container being carried across.

The consistency and the earthy smell… There were even still small chunks swimming in the liquid. Tomato paste. Definitely.

That meant Colette had to be involved as well.

Firstly, High Priestess Phaidra had the best garden in Iselia, which, impressively, she somehow maintained on top of all her duties. All the children got their tomatoes from there for their fake Halloween blood.

Secondly, Lloyd would not have survived mashing the number of tomatoes required to produce this amount of paste. Not when, on Halloween night, he had hidden behind Colette every time one of the children, dressed up as vampires with fake tomato blood dripping from their fake fangs, had passed by. It was a ridiculous sight, since Lloyd was taller than Colette, but Colette didn’t seem to mind, smiling and letting out a little giggle whenever Lloyd gripped her shoulder, hissing in her ear about the evils of tomatoes.

Colette deserved to have fun as well before everything came to an end. She was just as much a child, and yet she had to shoulder a heavier burden than even Raine had at that age. The most Raine could do was give Colette the childhood she herself hadn’t had the chance to experience.

Lloyd and Genis were already doing a good job of that. Raine was thankful, but at the same time…

All she could hope for was that they made the best of memories together, memories that wouldn’t fade like those she had of her parents, that remained forever in the most pristine of conditions. In the end, that would be all that remained. Would it be enough? Would it ever be enough to fill the gap left behind by a beloved person, forever gone and never to return?

Walking into the dim building, Raine spotted the trail of red footprints leading straight into one of the classrooms.

This was far too obvious, wasn’t it? What was all the red supposed to represent? Blood?

Were they trying to make her believe the schoolhouse was haunted? She would never fall for that. The “blood” itself was amateur at best; it didn’t have the right texture to masquerade as the real thing.

That was strange. Genis was most likely the one who had boiled the tomatoes. Lloyd couldn’t operate a stove, and Colette might have been able to do it, but not without potentially causing a fire.

Genis should have known the proper technique, but yet…

Might as well indulge them. Children, living the time of their life. She couldn’t begrudge them that. Honestly, it was cute to see their honest attempt at a prank.

Though she would still have to punish them afterwards. She was looking forward to that.

“Lloyd!” She called, placing her book down on one of the dressers lining the corridor and taking a single step into the classroom. “Come out, would you?”

~~~

Earlier that week

“The plan’s simple, really,” Lloyd said from his position at the sink, scrubbing his arms with soap for the third time, the skin starting to turn pink from all the rubbing. Colette and Genis were sat at the dining table with a vat of chunky tomato paste in front of them; Colette staring at Lloyd in concern while Genis stared in disbelief.

All three of them had taken part in the tomato mashing after Genis had boiled the tomatoes, making use of the hammers that Lloyd had… borrowed. Colette had asked if it was okay to use Dirk’s tools on fruits and if it would stain, but Lloyd had shrugged and said that it would be fine and they’d just wash them afterwards. “Dad will never notice” had been Lloyd’s exact words. Genis was starting to doubt that, considering the hammers were now a wonderful shade of red, with stray pieces of tomato pulp hanging on by their dear life.

Surely the tomato paste had been washed off on his first trip to the sink, as it had been for the two of them. Lloyd was making a huge deal out of this. He’d been wincing throughout the entire mashing session and had taken great care to dodge the occasional squirts of liquid.

Lloyd really hated tomatoes that much, huh?

“I know you asked why we’re making the paste so chunky,” Lloyd continued.

Yes, Genis had indeed asked that question. If they were trying to convince Raine of supernatural activity, they were doing a terrible job. That’s what Lloyd had said in the classroom last week, right?

Raine wasn’t even the type to get scared. He was.

“That’s because it doesn’t matter! It doesn’t need to be convincing. In fact, we want Professor Raine to think she’s got it all figured out!”

~~~

Now

Raine felt her foot catch through a loop of something thin and fragile, experiencing resistance as the loop went taut, a loud scraping sound coming from behind her.

Ah. She’d thought it all figured out, and let her guard down as a result. It had been a trap all along, and she’d fallen head-first into it.

Impressive. She’d have to congratulate whoever came up with this later.

Raine barely had enough time to glance up and see the other end of the string now looped around her foot, climbing up the wall and tied to the handle of a washtub resting on a ceiling beam right by the door, before the chain-reaction of tugging string and gravity caused the washtub to tip over and release a veritable waterfall of red liquid.

It all crashed down on her, pelting down on her clothes and face at high pressures. Now, instead of just one of her hands, every centimetre of her was covered with tomato paste. It was heavier than expected, her sleeves weighed down and drooping towards the floor.

Ugh, the earthy smell was nearly overpowering at this intensity, nor was the mushy feeling pleasant. Was this why Lloyd hated tomatoes? She could understand a little now… Though only when there were this many.

Thank the Goddess she hadn’t brought her book in with her. Otherwise, she’d have to murder the three of them.

~~~

“Towel?” Genis offered, crawling out from his hiding place under one of the tables with a folded towel in his hands. Raine was standing absolutely still with her head angled towards the floor and hadn’t moved for a full minute, clothes dripping liquid onto the floor and forming tiny puddles. The washtub was balancing rather precariously on the edge of the ceiling beam. He hoped it wouldn’t fall over and smack Raine on the head.

Lloyd was sitting cross-legged in the corner of the classroom, snickering. Even Colette, sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest next to him, couldn’t keep a smile off her face.

Raine raised her head, and Genis was relieved to see that his sister was, indeed, smiling. He had decided, in the end, to come along of his own volition. He wanted to see the results for himself.

It's been some time since he's seen a smile so wide on his sister's face.

“Thank you.” Raine took the towel, moving away from the shadow of the washtub as she began to towel her hair. The clothes were most likely hopeless. There’d be no cleaning them without a good wash. “Congratulations. You tricked me. Did you come up with this, Genis?”

“No, I did,” Lloyd interjected, waving from his corner. “Did you like it?”

“So you can be intelligent if you apply yourself. Surprising,” Raine muttered, a glint beginning to appear in her eyes. Colette’s smile was beginning to drop, though Lloyd hadn’t yet noticed.

“Ha! Well, now you know how terrible tomatoes are. And this is revenge for all the buckets of water you’ve made me carry!”

Genis took a step back, sweat beginning to form on his brow as he recognised the murderous expression on his sister’s face. Time for the grave, then?

It was inevitable.

“We’re even now, I assume?” Raine towered over Lloyd, smiling sinisterly. “Well, that’s good to know, because I have the most special idea planned for you! All of you!”

Yep. Yep, they were dead. So dead, and there was nothing they could do about it.

As he'd said to Lloyd at the very beginning, this had been a terrible idea.

But... Genis can't quite say, anymore, that he regretted participating in it.

~~~

In the end, Lloyd and Genis were forced to clean the entire schoolhouse from top to bottom. “It has to be sparkly clean,” Raine had warned, or they would really be in for it.

Colette, it turned out, had church duties to attend to that day. Not even Raine, in her position of authority, could touch the Chosen. Colette had apologised profusely to both of them, telling them that she would be back as soon as she was done. After all, she had played her part as well and should accept her due punishment.

So the two of them had slaved over walls, the ceiling, and furniture, armed with an army of rags and a tiny bucket of water that they had to keep refilling. It was toiling work, further slowed down by Lloyd’s staunch refusal to touch the tomato paste. Lloyd was the only one who could reach the ceiling! He needed to stop being so squeamish and just do it!

Admittedly, there were also moments when Genis had thrown the rag into the bucket a little harder than necessary, causing a splash of droplets that hit Lloyd and elicited vicious water-splashing battles. He was trying to express his earlier frustrations at getting dragged into this in the first place (even though he had long changed his mind over the whole thing). At least water would dry on its own.

Colette turned up later in the day with a tray of chocolate muffins that her grandmother had freshly baked, warm to the touch and which melted in the mouth. Genis savoured one happily. He would never pass up Head Priestess Phaidra's baked goodies; they were absolutely amazing and didn't come along that often. Genis watched in amusement as Colette laughed at the messy way Lloyd ate, chastising him in a soft voice and gently wiping the crumbs off the corner of his mouth.

After the wonderful break, it was right back to work. Colette took up a rag herself and began cheerily cleaning, chatting with the both of them and joining in the water fights with an enthusiastic grin until they were all giggling uncontrollably. At this point, Genis could come up with no excuse for his behaviour. But it didn't matter.

Even Raine turned up again, wearing a new change of clothes, and helped clean the floor with a mop. His sister slipped in the occasional berating, which Lloyd enthusiastically retorted as Genis sighed at the usual childish display (ignoring his own behaviour), as Colette covered her mouth and laughed.

The schoolhouse was awash with warm sunlight, laughter alive in each of their chests. Joy fluttered in the air, and the memory of that day was a warm, golden sphere to be cradled and cherished forever.

All in all, Lloyd declared it a success.

Genis was inclined to agree.

#fanfiction #tales of symphonia #colette brunel #lloyd irving #genis sage #raine sage #one shot

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underthewingsofthblackeagle · 4 years

Photo

“Berliner Fernsehturm” * Foto: BernardoUPloud

After her marriage with Frank Randall has failed and Claire Beauchamp flees from her violent husband, she finds refuge in the house of the Fraser/Murray family in Berlin-Wilhelmshorst. But then tensions arise between Britain (which has since left the EU) and some EU member states. All holders of an English passport are required to leave EU territory within six weeks … and suddenly Claire’s fate looks more uncertain than ever.

This story was written for the #14DaysofOutlander event, hosted by @scotsmanandsassenach

Chapter 9: 14 Men (5)

After she sat down and Jamie poured everyone a glass of water, Ferdinand Groide began:

"Mrs. Beauchamp, Jamie, Mr. Fraser, told me that your husband is Dr. Frank Randall. Is that correct?"

(...)

"As you may also know, I have left my husband. Our marriage had been on paper only for several years. I intend to ask for a divorce, if that's possible from here. But I still have to care about this man's life. I'm a doctor, I took an oath. If I reveal the secrets I have learned... what will you do to him?"

"What do you mean? What are we going to do with him?"

"Will you hurt him? I mean, will you let someone hurt him?"

Ferdinand Groide and Jamie looked at each other in amazement.

"Mrs. Beauchamp, we're not the Mafia. We don't hire hit men."

"But you're in Intelligence, Mr. Groide."

Claire said that sentence with the same calm and objectivity as if she was saying to Jenny:

"If you put one more egg in the batter, it gets better."

"And intelligence agencies do these things," she added to her statement with the same objectivity.

"Well, maybe the CIA or the KGB. Let me answer you this way: In my opinion, a living Frank Randall is far more interesting and valuable to a secret service than a dead Frank Randall."

"In other words, you guarantee me that the information I give you will not endanger his life."

Groide and Jamie looked at each other again.

"Promise me."

It wasn't a question, it wasn't a request, it was a demand, and the words Claire used to make that demand left none of the men unaware that there was no alternative to this bargain for them.

Groide struck the hand Claire held out to him.

"You have my word, Mrs. Beauchamp. You don't know me yet and you probably mistrust me. That's only natural. But Jamie, Mr. Fraser, can assure you that I'm a man of my word."

Claire looked over at Jamie. He nodded.

"Done."

She reached for the glass of water that Jamie had put in her hand and emptied it in one gulp.

Then she began to talk.

"Microphone" by Florian-Media

"It was in the year 2015, in late November 2015 to be exact."

"Excuse me, Mrs. Beauchamp," Groide objected, "but we ought to do this properly."

He removed from his briefcase a device whose rectangular clunkness was reminiscent of an early mobile phone. After placing it in the center of the table, he inserted two small, round microphones attached to longer cables, one pointing at Claire and one pointing at himself. Groide pressed the record button, then he gave the date, time, place, names of those present and, as the reason for the recording, ‘Statement by Dr. Claire Elisabeth Beauchamp’.

Jamie had to smile. Ferdinand was a friendly person, but he was also a German bureaucrat. Everything had to follow the specific order and everything had to be done 'by the book'. Those Germans. They had rules for everything. They couldn't just have a conversation like that, it had to be a 'statement' and of course it had to be 'recorded'. In this country everything was recorded, either on paper or on tape. And then everything was filed, paginated, numbered and archived. Nothing was lost. They were so damn meticulous, these Germans, but also so damn effective.

"Please begin with your personal life, Mrs. Beauchamp. Name, birthday, place of birth, family, etc."

"My name is Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. I was born in London on October 20, 1993, the only child of Julia, née Moriston, and Henry Montmorency Beauchamp. My mother was a primary school teacher, my father worked as a statistician for an insurance company. In the winter of 1998 my parents were killed in a car accident. My uncle, Lambert Quentin Beauchamp, was appointed by the authorities as my foster father and guardian. He was my only living relative, my father's only brother. Due to the activities of my uncle, who was an egyptologist and archaeologist, I grew up in England for only a short time, the rest of the time we spend abroad. When I was 16 years old, my uncle returned to England permanently and accepted a professorship at Oxford University. Shortly afterwards I began training as a nurse. Also in Oxford. At the age of 19, I had just completed my education, I met my future husband Franklin Wolverton Randall through my uncle. He also worked in the history department and specialised in Scottish history. At times he worked as an assistant to a professor. We married the following year. My uncle died only a few months later. His health had unfortunately not been the best at the end of his life. When my husband was called to Harvard University's history department, we moved to Boston.

"Oxford" by MarlonRondal

Groide nodded. Jamie was sure that nothing Claire had told him so far was new to his friend. Guaranteed, they had checked Claire from the day he requested the visa for her passport. And they had certainly not been idle since then. At "In Vino Veritas" there was a small but very effective group of staff who had certainly dug up everything they could find about the young woman in the past few days.

"When and how did you learn of your husband's secret activities?"

"It was in the year 2015, in late November of that year to be exact. Does the name Jonathan Pollard mean anything to you?"

Jamie listened with new interest. Groide just nodded.

"Then you know that this man has served thirty years in the United States for espionage. In 2015 he was released on parole and in the American media there was a lot of coverage and discussion for days. I had never heard this man's name before and, to be honest, I didn't care about the whole thing. However, I listened up when my husband spoke about it. It was a Sunday, two days after Pollard was released. I remember the whole thing so well because that day was the day of the terrible accident in that jademine in Myanmar, where 90 people were killed and over 100 people were missing. We had had dinner and then Frank turned on the TV. There was a talk show where the case was discussed. My husband had already started drinking in the afternoon. While Frank was watching the talk show, I thought, ‘My goodness, they're talking about an age-old espionage case and people are dying elsewhere without the media even paying attention.’"

Claire reached for her glass, which Jamie had refilled in the meantime, and took a big sip.

"I didn't pay much attention to the discussion on TV. But then suddenly Frank started mumbling loudly:

'Spy! Spy! Spy! Nonsense! The man was an amateur! What real spy leaves secret documents openly on his desk in the office and his wife was stupid enough to leave a suitcase with secret documents with a neighbour who was in the military himself!’”

Claire reached for her glass again and drank.

"What he said made me furious, so I said to him: 'Oh yes, but you know how a real spy behaves!’ I thought his reaction was terribly arrogant. To my surprise, he then turned down the TV. He came over and sat down with me on the sofa. He looked me in the eyes and grinned. Then he said, ‘Yes, my darling, I know that. The MI5 recruited and trained me while I was still studying at Oxford. Right after they heard I was going to specialise in Scottish history. With my family background and the good connections we had in the military and police through my cousin Jonathan, there were no obstacles.’”

"Books" by MichaelGaida

"How did you react to that?"

"Well, at first I was stumped. I thought he was just showing-off again. So I replied, ‘Why would the MI5 need an expert in Scottish history?’ He replied, ‘Well, of course you can't imagine, you little fool. Good God, Claire! The Scots want independence and just because last year's referendum went so well, they will not give up. It's their history they're drawing strength from! What do you think will happen if they really gain their independence? It could set off a chain reaction. You know that Prime Minister Cameron announced two years ago that he would hold a referendum on Britain's withdrawal from the EU if he was re-elected in 2015? So? He has been re-elected! Now there must be a referendum. And what if Britain's withdrawal from the EU is carried out but Scotland becomes independent and is then admitted to the EU as a member? Did you ever think about that? This is going to get us in big trouble! Then the EU will continue to stand with two legs on our island! We can't let that happen.’”

Claire paused for a moment, then she went on: "I must have looked at him in wonder and disbelief, because suddenly he stormed out of the living room. I heard him looking for something in his study. When he came back he had a newspaper article in his hand which he held in front of my face. ‘Read it,’ he said to me. ‘Our government takes this danger seriously... and so should you!‘ I took the article and read. It was an article in the International Business Times in July 2015. It reported that the Prime Minister had met with the CEOs of a media company. The purpose of the meeting was allegedly to prevent the broadcast of a TV series about the Scottish Rebellion of 1746 before the referendum on Scottish independence. It seems that a request has been made to postpone the broadcast. I later found on his desk a copy of an article from ‘The Scotsman’, which also covered the subject in detail.” Groide and Jamie looked at each other and smiled. Both men nodded, but said nothing.

"Frankly," Claire continued, "I hadn't given the matter any thought at all. In the five years before, I had been mainly busy finishing my medical studies and gaining experience as a doctor. You don't have much time to worry about other things. Besides, due to my, well, somewhat non-conformist upbringing, I was never so much confined to one country alone ..."

"How is it that despite medical school, your husband still refers to you as..." Groide is looking for words, "intellectually... weaker...?” "Frank believes that medical school would consist largely of memorizing the contents of textbooks. He thought that people's bodies were somehow all the same and that if you had learned the appropriate forms of treatment, then you could treat them. He never understood the diversity and complexity of the human body and how medical science reacts to it." "Did your husband explain his duties for the MI5 to you?" "When I told him that Scotland's history, and Scotland's ambitions for independence, were well known, he told me not to think so superficially. He said that historians are not only concerned with the past. They can also make predictions about the future to a certain extent, based on their knowledge. I should think about what the clan system had meant and still means to the Scots. Why did the English central government everything to destroy it after the Jacobite uprising of 1746? England should not allow a united counter-power to be formed again in the north of the country. He was probably particularly concerned about this lobby group, One Banner for all Scots, which had formed the year before."

"Scottish Independence" by Emphyrio Claire was focused on Ferdinand Groide and the recording equipment in front of her. She didn't see Jamie's face become more and more thoughtful.

"Mrs. Beauchamp, all this is interesting, but... not very specific." "At first, I too got to know only general things. It only became more specific later when I did... well, my own... research. "You did your own research?" Groide suddenly seemed interested again. Jamie tried not to smile. What seemed like a minor revelation to his friend only confirmed what he had been thinking all along. Claire was an intelligent, strong woman. Her strength might have been broken for a time by what her husband had done to her. But Jamie was sure that she would find her way back to that strength. And he vowed to himself that he would do everything he could to help her. "I thought Frank was a braggart for a long time, but... I can't describe it exactly. Something had caught my interest. Then a colleague asked me if I would trade a weekly shift with her. She would have had a night shift, but her babysitter was unavailable. I agreed and that same afternoon I went to the university library and borrowed books on Scottish history and the independence movement. The department where I was on night duty was not very labour-intensive. I had a lot of time to read and think during the nights of that week." She paused for a moment. "After that week, I became aware of the urgency of the issue." Groide didn't say anything, but his gaze urged her to continue. "National self-determination. Well, there's no need to explain that further. Scotland's oil. 64% of Europe's oil reserves are on Scottish territory. They're said to be worth 4 trillion pounds. Then there is the issue of renewable energy. I mean Scotland has 25 % of Europe's wind energy potential, 25 % of Europe's tidal energy potential and 10 % of Europe's wave energy potential. I do not have to tell you that these are also enormous financial potentials." A fine smile appeared on Groide's face. "And then, of course, there is the question of nuclear disarmament: with control of defence and foreign policy, an independent Scotland could tackle the elimination of Trident nuclear weapons, an issue long associated with the campaign for an independent Scotland. Trident class submarines carrying missiles with 120 nuclear warheads are based at the Clyde naval base near Glasgow. In the event of Scottish independence, England would have to withdraw these weapons and revise its defence strategy. I imagine that would be a thorn in the side of the American allies as well. There will certainly be a lot of diplomatic pressure behind the scenes." Claire took a deep breath. "Now you're going to tell me that this is all public information and I would agree with you. But I wasn't aware of it before. These informations woke me up. It took a while but when I had the opportunity to take on another week of night shifts I immediately agreed. In this time I developed a kind of plan. I was eager to find out if Frank's statement was true. At first I tried to track when he was going to conferences or work meetings. Not all of them, but several of them took him to England and Scotland. I can't prove it, but I had the impression that his travels became more frequent at times when 'the Scottish theme' was boiling up. Later, after 2015, and particularly after the brexite, his travels intensified.” To Jamie's surprise, Claire reached into her handbag, which she had hung on the back of her chair, and pulled out a piece of paper she handed over to Ferdinand Groide.

"Tea" by Pexels "This is a list of all the trips my husband has taken since 2013. supposedly for reasons of his work as a historian." Groide skimmed the list, then put it aside. "Thank you very much. We will try to verify the data." "In the weeks that followed, I voluntarily took several weeks of night duty. Because there was another advantage to this. I was at home while my husband was at university and could look through his records almost undisturbed."

"Will you share the knowledge you have gained from this?" "Yes. But perhaps we could have some tea?" Claire replied as she looked at Jamie. "Certainly." He got up and left the room. Ferdinand Groide pressed the 'stop' button on the recorder. Then he got up and stretched a bit. Claire did the same.

#14DaysofOutlander #From Boston to Berlin in 14 Hours #Outlander #Outlander fan Fiction #Boston #Berlin #Claire Beauchamp #Jamie Fraser #Frank Randall #Jonathan Randall #Ian Murray #Jenny Murray

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cutie1365 · 4 years

Text

A Kid from Queens Part 15

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Info: CA: Civil War Era. Tony Stark enlists his daughter to find the web slinging spider in Queens.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: n/a

(no Far From Home spoilers)

A/N: There’s one part where maybe pretend you have an ‘A’ initial, this idea was written more for my OC on Wattpad, so I’m sorry, but I kinda love it so I didn’t wanna change it.

Masterlist linked in my bio. Taglist in the reblog.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Where are you headed all dressed up?” Tony asks as you’re leaving your room at the compound.

“All dressed up? Dad this is a suit.” You laughed him off, he walked with you as you were making your way towards the front to board the jet.

“Alright Scully, where are you headed? Did I miss a memo for a shareholder meeting or something?” Tony asked.

Ever since you’d presented the information to him about the Mayor, he had been extra protective. But you’d done as he suggested, you turned the information over to the FBI. They suggested that for the time being, you keep up with Thomas and the family for appearances sake, to not cause suspicion. You told this to your father. What you didn’t tell him was that the FBI invited you to aid in the investigation, due to your proximity to the case you’d be useful. Also considering they were likely stealing from a government warehouse that was half Stark owned and maintained. You’d be a good person to have on board, and your commitment would be minimal. You’d publically stay with Thomas until they told you it was time to distance yourself, meaning they’d found something or want to provoke the family into making a mistake and slipping up, hopefully exposing a hole in their network they could exploit. You thought it was a good idea, you also thought it would be best for your father’s nerves if you didn’t tell him the full story.

“I guess someone doesn’t read their emails. But no, Linda has me judging the annual robotics competition at MIT, so it’s Back to School for me.” You spoke, digging through your purse, making sure you had everything, your suitcase should have already been on the jet, but you were only going to be gone for a few days.

Tony nodded, as if he now remembered seeing something about that somewhere. He saw the jet on the tarmac, ready to take off any minute as you both stood before the glass entrance of the compound.

“Alright Animal House, no toga parties.” He hugged you goodbye, you chuckled at the thought of a bunch of engineers throwing a toga party.

“I’ll try my best. I’ll be back in a few days. Oh, and tell Wanda I left a box of clothes for her in my room. And I made a prototype of an upgrade for Rhodey’s braces that I left in the lab for you to do some testing on.” You began to ramble off things for him, knowing there was a low chance he’d remember everything.

“Alright mother hen, you don’t want to be late.” He hugged you once more, shooing you off.

You made your way to the jet, as Tony watched you from a distance. His little girl, all grown up. He hadn’t seen you this happy in a while, it brought a smile to his face. Ever since he’d practically ordered you to stay away from Peter, he noticed a change in you. You spent so much time in the lab, tinkering on things to take your mind off of life. You were rushed around from interview to interview, dress fitting to dress fitting, and photoshoot to photoshoot. He noticed the toll it was taking on you. He hated seeing you so run down, and nearly considered giving the kid a chance. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad, it worked for him and Pepper, it might just be able to work for them. He’s a good kid, but he’s not willing to take a chance yet, not when it comes to his daughters safety. He’s kept you safe for a long time, and he didn’t want to ever see you hurt again.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

As you arrived in Boston, after a quick flight, a car was waiting to take you the rest of the way to MIT.

The car pulled into the familiar streets where you’d resided for a few years when you were younger. You hadn’t been back in years, yet it all looked the same. Near the entrance you spotted some of your old professors chatting, likely they were also judges.

“Y/N.” One greeted you, his expression somewhere between surprise and joy.

“Dr. Greenfield, it’s nice to see you again.” You smiled, shaking his hand.

“You’re all grown up now aren’t you. You know, I still remember your first day in my class. I had to go home and rework half of my lesson plans.” He chuckled at the memory. You remembered sitting in his class, answering all his questions that were meant to stump the class. He was a sweet older man, and you were happy to be here with him now.

You chatted and caught up for a few more minutes before you were invited inside to check in and meet the teams. You were given a metal name plate that you slipped on. Dr. A. Stark, it read.

You met the other 5 judges and mingled for a bit while the teams were still setting up in their prospective rooms. Some were industry experts, some were old professors of yours. Each judge had been assigned to a team, to mentor and offer insight and guidance before the final judging in two days time.

When a facilitator led you into a room of five boys standing in front of their invention, you weren’t met with the warm welcome you were expecting.

“Gentleman, I’d like to introduce you to your mentor Dr.-” The facilitator was cut off by one of the boys, he seemed to be the ringleader of the group.

“No, no, our mentor is Dr. A. Stark. Anthony Stark. Not some...” He waved his hand at you, trying to think of the best descriptor, “Vogue cover girl.”

You’d had a nice day so far, you were willing to let it slide, but when he opened his mouth and spoke to you with such disrespect, you were going to make him wish he’d called in sick today. The facilitator, likely a student committee volunteer, had her mouth hung open slightly in shock, she didn’t know what to do. So you stepped forward towards the boys, and that’s exactly what they were.

“You got Dr. A. Stark. Y/N (I’m sorry my OC has an A initial) Stark. My father actually doesn’t have a PhD. But I’ve got two. One of them in Electrical Engineering from this fine university.” You raised your hands motioning to the school around you, stepping closer once more, and oh if looks could kill. “But if you don’t want my help, I’m sure there are other teams who would be happy to have me...”

You turned on your heel and made one strutt towards the door before whipping around once more.

“By the way, you’re going to need the help, because I can spot six errors already from here. Seven if you count that sloppy rotary potentiometer.” And with that, you spun towards the door once more and didn’t look back at what you were certain were five speechless boys nearly shaking in their boots.

You’d certainly inherited a flair for the dramatics from your father, but this time it was merely a facade. Deep down you were on the verge of tears. This was your livelihood, you didn’t care if the civilian population thought you were some brainless covergirl, but you at least thought the people in your own field would respect you. The opinion of five students shouldn’t have hit you as hard as it did, but it now had you questioning everything. Every move you’ve made since that damn photograph came out.

You were leaning on the wall in the stairwell, if you were going to cry, you were going to make sure none of them saw you do it. You suddenly heard the large metal door open next to you, and a student looked at you in shock.

“Dr. Stark?” He asked, he wasn’t one of the boys from before, he must have been on another team. You knew he wasn’t like the others, he at least seemed to recognize you and your title.

“That would be me.” You smiled, lifting yourself off the wall slightly.

“I read your paper on nanoparticle technology. I think it’s completely revolutionary, I mean the implications alone... I just, it blew my mind.” He smiled, you watched as he spoke so passionately, waving his hands about as he spoke. A smile slowly spread to your face as well. In his excitement, he’d forgotten to introduce himself. He was tall but lanky, with a dirty blond mop of hair resting on his head, and deep blue eyes.

“That was my doctoral thesis from a few years ago. Back then the idea was completely theoretical, but even today at Stark Industries we’re developing prototypes using only nanotech.” You stated proudly.

“How’d you get around the deterioration objective?” He asked, with a slight tilt of his head.

“A housing unit that harnesses palladium and vibranium to almost charge the particles.” You explained, enjoying watching his eyes pop as you explained. It was refreshing talking to someone who spoke your language.

“That’s brilliant. It’s really such an honor to meet you. I know my team and I would be grateful if you would be able to spare a few minutes to look at our design? Our mentor is just... well he doesn’t have your experience.” He rubbed the back of his head nervously.

“I’ll see what I can do.” You smiled, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Harley, Harley Keener.” He shook your hand with a smile.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

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Please comment, like, and reblog!

Sorry this chapter is a little shorter, I’ve basically got the next one written but I thought it might be too long to combine them. Don’t worry Peter’s coming in soon!

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dracimalfoy1988292 · 3 years

Text

(ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 33: ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʙᴇᴅ)

The next Hogsmeade trip was hastily approaching, and both Valentine and James couldn't be more excited. Due to their lack of dates, they'd lacked to establish what exactly they were, but they'd explained the situation to their friends, all of which were so incredibly happy for the bunch. Now Valentine just had to wait for Lily and Remus to make up, and for Celia to stop cowering away from Macey.

The remnants of September flew by, and Halloween was quickly approaching. The Marauders had spent tons of time planning what they explained as 'the coolest party ever', which at this point they called all their parties.4

During weekdays Valentine found she didn't have as many classes with her friends as she had previous years, especially not with the boys, although she would admit she was excited to share Defense Against the Dark Arts, especially since they were planning on covering an exciting topic today; patronouses.

"A patronous is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the Dementor feeds upon – hope, happiness, the desire to survive – but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the Dementors can't hurt it.3

Your Patronus has two forms, non-corporeal and corporeal. A non-corporeal Patronus can appear as a thin wisp of silver that hovers like mist. Whereas a corporeal Patronus has a form that is clearly defined and is more than vapour or smoke."

Our Professor took a deep breath, checking that her class was playing close attention.

"The ability to cast a corporeal or non-corporeal Patronus is down to the skill of the witch or wizard. Each Patronus is unique to the witch or wizard who conjures it, and it's possible, in some cases, for a Patronus to change. All that is required is that you chant the spell as you think of a happy memory."

Valentine was stumped. She had so many happy memories she wasn't sure it was possible to single out just a single one.9

All around the room people began muttering 'expecto patronum' on repeat, some fizzy shapes casting from wands, but no full pantronouses.

Until someone finally did, and of course it was Sirius Black. Valentine was initially surprised he of all people had gotten it his first try, knowing how hard his childhood was, but Valentine figured he had chosen one here at Hogwarts.

Sirius' corporeal patronus leapt around the room in the form of a large black dog, the animals tongue sticking out the side of its mouth.

Sirius smirked when some girls 'awed', taking a bow. Valentine shot him an exasperated look.

And all around the class over a couple of minutes some patronuses formed, and others didn't.

At some point Remus' had created his, and a large, beautifully colored wolf had popped out. Remus' smile had dropped and he had paled at the sight of it, seeming he couldn't quite escape reality, and Valentine could tell his patronus was not what he had wanted it to be.

Even James had casted the spell correctly, and a elegant stag had formed. It was beautiful, without a doubt, with long, sharp antlers and a white spots dotting its back.

Many in the class had turned to watch the creature while James had been congratulated, but Valentine stared right into the animals eyes until it disappeared.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, she scurried deeper into her mind, thinking of happy memories.

Valentine thought of sitting on the couch on Christmas Day with hot chocolate while watching Frosty the Snowman. She thought of quidditch matches and karaoke parties. She imagined cold ice skating rinks and baking cookies with Polly the house elf and her friends.

Someone a bucket of red paint got caught in her mind, and before she could even think any farther, she felt a pulling on her brain, as if her self conscious was telling her this is the one.

"Expecto patronum!"

Valentine's patronus erupted, silvery blue mist flowing from her wand like a river of pixie dust and mist. Valentine grinned wildly once it took its form, a large black stallion galloping around the room before slowly approaching its owner, letting out a soft neigh and nuzzling its head into the girls shoulder, snorting, causing Valentine to giggle.3

While others watched the large animal, James watched Valentine, a huge and gorgeous smile on her face.

The stallion did one more lap around the girl before whisping away, the sound of hooves lessening as it disintegrated amongst the wind.

"Oh, she was beautiful!" Valentine exclaimed, turning to Macey with a proud expression. "Did you see it? Did you see it?"

"Yes! Kind of hard to miss a horse running around the room, isn't it?" Macey sarcastically asked, growing increasingly annoyed as she couldn't cast the spell.

Valentine laid a hand on her best friends arm. "Hey, don't stress about it, it'll come to you eventually."

Macey lowered her wand, sighing. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I'm just not the happiest lately. Maybe I would be if a certain someone could just talk to me!"

Valentine frowned, understanding her. "Do you want me to talk to her?"

"No!"

"Okay!" Valentine threw her hands up, backing away as Macey had practically yelled her answer.

"Your patronus makes sense," James said, waltzing over to Valentine. "A black stallion represents free spirited and adventurous personalities. You're passionate and dominating, but also mysterious."

Valentine looked impressed by the fact he'd known that.

"And you're stag because you have horns, symbolizing how you're always so horn-,"18

"Padfoot!" Peter exclaimed, pulling Sirius back by his shirt. "You're ruining their moment."

____________________

CELIA AND VALENTINE HAD RUN into each other before lunch in the bathroom, and the two do them decided to walk to the Great Hall together, and Celia found it the perfect opportunity to question Valentine on her love life.

"So," Celia began, brow quirked. "You forgave him because he kissed you?"

"No!" Valentine scowled. "I'm not desperate. But he apologized and he acknowledged that what he did was wrong. I may have forgiven him, but I'm still upset with his actions. I'm ready to move on from that, though. He said what I wanted to hear and there is no point dwelling on it."

"Spoken like a true Hufflepuff."4

Valentine desperately wished to say something about her and Macey, but Valentine didn't know how Celia would react to Macey having told her. She didn't want Celia to get upset at her or Macey, so she shut her mouth and hoped they could resolve it themself.

"What is it you wanted me to do? Curse him?"

"Well, yeah," Celia trailed off, eyes turning hard. Valentine looked to where the Slytherin was looking, catching sight of Macey and Leilani, a gorgeous Ravenclaw girl, talking.

Celia diverted her eyes as if trying to pretend the sight didn't bother her.

"Hey, Celia, you don't-,"

Celia stormed off to the Slytherin table before Valentine had the chance to say anything more. The Hufflepuff pursed her lips, glancing between her two friends and sighing, moving to the Gryffindor table.

"What's up with that? Girl drama?" Sirius asked as Valentine sat down besides James.

"Something like that," Valentine muttered. "I honestly don't know how I've made it this far with you guys as my friends."

"Agreed," Peter commented through a chicken leg.

Valentine watched Remus, the boy constantly looking out the corner of his eye to Lily Evans.

If they want to get back together they should hire McGonagall as a therapist. She's good.5

"Anyway, Hogsmeade trips in a couple days. Thinking of making a pit stop by Zonko's, you guys coming?"

James quickly shook his head, grinning at Sirius.

"We have special plans," he announced.

"Gross," Remus uttered.

"Not like that!" James corrected him. "Yet."

Valentine shoved James to the side, her cheeks heating up.

"Well, can we all meet up at The Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer? Or maybe Hogshead. Apparently they serve Firewhiskey to under agers," Sirius said with a wink.

"I'll see if we can fit it into our schedule," James stiffly retorted, earning a snort from Valentine.

"What've you got planned."

"I guess you'll see," James lamented with raised eyebrows, earning a grin from Valentine.

"Can you two please refrain from doing," Sirius gestured between Valentine and James wildly. "This. At least while at the table?"

"Says the one that literally fricked on my bed," Valentine shot back in disgust.

"You did what on her bed?"

Sirius shrugged off James. "Marlene and I were having fun."

"Yeah, on my bed," Valentine grumbled.

"We don't discriminate," Marlene shrugged with a lazy grin, leaning into Sirius as he threw an arm over her shoulder.

"Don't feel special," Peter spoke up. "They've done it on mine too."7

"That is true," Sirius admitted.

"You're like bunnies," James muttered under his breath.

"Yeah we are," Sirius smirked. James and Valentine shared a wince, but when they looked to see the same expression on both their faces, they laughed at each other.

"James, are you still doing that Easter thing this year that you told us about over summer break? My parents want to know before they plan something," Peter asked.

James nodded. "Yeah, still happening."

Valentine gave James a questioning stare.

"Oh! I didn't tell you. Well, my parents decided they wanted to meet you and-,"

"Awee," Valentine cooed, teasingly pinching James cheek. "You told to your parents about me."

"No," Sirius cut in. "He told his parents your whole life story. He never shut up-,"10

"Stop exposing me like that, Padfoot!" James shouted, pouting like a child before turning to the blonde. "And yes, I told my parents about you. Obviously."

Valentine's cheeks tinged pink.

"Anyways, it's just some party thing my parents are doing. They're inviting some of their friends and said I could bring some of mine, so that's all," James told her, not finding it a big deal.

Valentine, however, was already stressing out over the fact that she possibly would have to meet James' parents.

"Don't worry, Mia and Monty are the coolest people ever," Sirius spoke to Valentine. "Plus, I'm pretty sure they'll like you automatically because you're practically James' only chance of being in a legitimate relationship."3

"Shut up," James managed through a laugh, reaching across the table to flick Sirius' forehead.

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zdbztumble · 5 years

Text

“Jewel of the Seven Pokemon!” Chapter III

As a huge fan of both Tim Burton and Sir Christopher Lee, writing from the POV of characters who weren’t impressed with their Pokeverse equivalents was quite the challenge.

Chapter I Chapter II

FF.Net

AO3

---

The drawing room set was perfect. Everything Misty had ever imagined while reading Jewel of the Seven Pokémon was here. The dark aquamarine walls with white molding and filigree, the silver-plated gaslights, the deep crimson velvet of the chairs and sofa, a fireplace so big it could fit a Blastoise; even the prop for the professor’s custom phonograph had the Aerodactyl teeth lining two sides. And with all the light and sound equipment gone, there was hardly anything that gave away this was a set; except for one camera in the corner, it seemed so real.

It all would have looked even more beautiful under the proper lighting, of course, instead of the harsh florescent work lights, but Misty loved it all the same. The one costume left on set – the heroine’s dressing gown, with colors and patterns inspired by Milotic – was so wonderful that the only way Misty could keep herself from trying it on was to link arms with Ash and make him look at everything too.

“We’re here to help save this movie, y’know,” he muttered; apparently, the fineness and shimmer of the gown’s silk didn’t mean anything to him. “And Cilan’s doing his interviews right now.”

“I’m listening!” Misty hissed. Was it so hard to believe a girl could multi-task? “Besides, that director’s not gonna have anything useful to say anyway.”

Will Hampton wasn’t what Misty expected of a film director. He was a short, spindly man, with black curly hair, black scraggly beard, black baggy suit, black-rimmed blue shades, and a sickly pallor. A real weirdo – that’s what he was. He also didn’t same capable of forming a complete sentence.

“But you really have no idea where the Cofagrigus were brought from?” Cilan asked him.

“Nah,” said Hampton. His hands never stopped moving when he talked. “The producers…from what their…I think they…wasn’t important.”

Cilan looked stumped by that answer, and Misty couldn’t make any sense of it either. But Hampton apparently knew what he was doing with movies; Sir Bela called him his favorite director. “Knows exactly what he wants,” he’d said, and he could somehow make out what exactly that was; he was the only one nodding along.

“Hmm…” Cilan started to pace, his magnifying glass held to his chin. “And you had no signs of trouble from them until the jewel appeared on set? They weren’t hostile to direction, in other words?”

Hampton shook his head. “Nah. They were…did the thing…yeah.”

“And what about Bisharp?” Cilan asked Sir Bela. “Was there any sign he might be under a definite influence – Hypnosis, perhaps, or Psychic? Or even an indication he might have had a problem with the production?”

“No, but it’s funny you should say that,” said Sir Bela. “Because Bisharp is quite attentive to my feelings on our films. And he has heard me, many times, say about the Blasko series – well, they made far too many of them, of course. And they did not use Hunter’s lines, they did not portray Hunter’s character, and –”

“Who’s Hunter?” asked Ash.

“Saul Hunter, Ash,” Misty groaned. “The author of Blasko – The Un-dead and Jewel of the Seven Pokémon.” Honestly, why did she have to go and like such an uncultured boy? It was exasperating.

Sir Bela went on without any mind to the interruption. “I do seem to recall saying to Bisharp on the plane that having a prince’s jewel instead of a princess’s worried me, that it was a sign of another poor script from Hunter’s work. All in jest, of course. Naturally, I’d already read the script – it’s superb. Superb. And given over to one of the great directors of our age.” He swept a hand to indicate Hampton, who giggled nervously and tugged at his hair. Misty shared a skeptical look with Ash.

“And you said that to Bisharp too?” asked Cilan.

“Of course.”

“Do you remember your exact words?”

“…I do, and now that you mention it – I never did say explicitly that I was joking on the plane. And between takes on the first day of filming, I may have said ‘I’ve never seen a director like this.’ Meant as a compliment, of course, but…”

“Are we getting somewhere with this?” Iris moaned. She was hanging upside-down from an empty line set by her legs, rocking impatiently. What a kid, Misty thought. Of course, from what Ash had said about Iris, Misty guessed she was thinking the same thing. What was it that made some people their age act so much more mature than they really were? And they never realize it, either…

“I think I know where you’re going with this, Cilan,” Misty said, drawing herself up tall. “Bisharp got the wrong idea from what Sir Bela said, and thought he wasn’t happy with this movie. And that’s why he’s disappeared – he didn’t want to be in a film he thought his Trainer didn’t like!”

“You think so?” said Ash, sounding impressed.

“Pika?” concurred Pikachu, still on Misty’s shoulder.

“Osha!” Oshawott, still in Misty’s right arm, clapped approvingly and nuzzled her shoulder with his cheeks.

Cilan, however, shook his head. “That doesn’t explain what’s happened here.”

“Huh? Why not?” Misty frowned. What else could he have been driving at, with those questions?

“Elementary, my dear Misty.” It was a standard line of the Mycroft Abode character; Misty suspected Cilan had been itching for an excuse to say it. “The unusual behavior started with the Cofagrigus, not Bisharp. And any misgivings Bisharp may have had about the production shouldn’t have mattered to the other Pokémon in the cast and crew. They may have made him more susceptible to whatever’s causing this mystery, but they don’t explain it.”

“Hmm…he’s right,” said Ash. Misty tightened her grip on his arm until he winced. “Whose side are you on anyway?” she hissed.

“That wouldn’t account for the missing equipment either,” said Cilan.

“Or the missing producers,” added Sir Bela. “They left for the front office after informing us about the suspension. I expected them back by now.”

“Well, that’s…I bet they…executives…lunch meeting…all day.” Hampton shrugged.

“…Yes. Er – are there any Pokémon left at all?” Cilan asked. “If so, they could have some insight. Ash’s Pikachu could question them and report – Ash is quite gifted at divining what Pikachu means.”

“Hey – yeah!” Ash said, with a snap of his fingers. It did seem like a good idea – not that Misty was about to admit it, after hers was shot down like that.

“There are no Pokémon left that were directly involved in the production, I’m afraid,” said Sir Bela. “None that I’m aware of, anyway. But I do have two more on me – they never took to filmmaking, but they travel with Bisharp and I and know him well. They haven’t been out since we’ve arrived here, but they may know something about his state of mind.” He reached into his jacket and drew out a Dusk Ball and a Luxury Ball. The Dusk Ball went out first, flashing as it opened to reveal –

“SHEDINJA!” Pikachu and Oshawott went flying. Iris and Cilan winced at the scream. Misty sprang onto Ash’s back, wrapped her arms and legs around him, and pulled and twisted until he was a complete shield between her and that horrible buggy ghost.

“Is there something wrong?” Sir Bela asked.

“Misty’s got – ack! – problems with Bug-types,” Ash wheezed. Pikachu moaned in agreement; he and Oshawott had landed in a pile on one of the chairs. Misty was about to apologize when the Shedinja floated closer. She tightened her grip and buried her head into Ash’s shoulder instead.

“Really now,” Cilan said crossly. “There’s no time for this. We have a mystery to solve, and there’s no need to be upset by a friendly Pokémon that means us no harm and –”

POP! Misty dared a look up to see what came out of the Luxury Ball. It wasn’t another bug, thankfully; it was actually kind of cute. A feline Pokémon, with a violet and cream coat and sleepy green eyes –

“PURRLOIN!” she heard Cilan shriek, and saw the green blur of his mad dash for cover behind the sofa.

***

This movie can’t be worth it, Iris thought. She ran her hands down her face and bit back a groan as the clock made one tick closer to a full hour since they’d come into this set. The time would be easier to take if anything were actually happening, but…

The first hang-up was that this Bela Christopher guy’s Purrloin was really offended by Cilan freaking out around it, and it took forever to convince it to help out. Then Purrloin and Shedinja had to go in the corner with Ash and Pikachu, a “safe” distance from Cilan and Misty. Cilan would shout his questions across the set, Pikachu would give them to the Pokémon, they would answer, and Ash would try and figure out from Pikachu what the answers were before shouting them back to Cilan. A process that had told them nothing so far, because Shedinja and Purrloin didn’t seem to know anything about why Bisharp would disappear. Not that we need it anyway, Iris thought. My sixth sense is going off like crazy in this place, but of course the Detective Connoisseur wouldn’t trust that…

Meanwhile, Iris was stuck with creepy Christopher and his fan club. The director just sat in his chair doodling, but Misty and Cilan were gathered around Mr. Christopher as he told story after story after story. Apparently, he remembered every second of his long film career, and had no problem talking about all of it.

“…I had no idea what it was going to look like. Had no idea! And of course, the effects were very primitive in those days. We had Scorbunnies casting Flamethrower at odd angles to create the animation of the shadows…”

They just went on and on, and he never let any interruptions get in the way. And Cilan and Misty were eating it all up! Sure, Cilan gave Ash a new question every few minutes, and Misty gushed over Oshawott now and then, but for the most part, they were completely under the guy’s spell.

“…nearly severed my finger clean off. It’s still bent out – you see, here. But that was the first sword fight I had in a film. There were many, many more. I think the most difficult one was…”

It was a weird combination of boring stories and creepy storyteller. Iris liked scary movies, but a guy who was in them all the time sent out bad vibes. And those eyes…Cilan told her once that red eyes were “fetching,” but to Iris, they were nothing but bad news.

“…and he finally said to me, ‘you’re too tall to ever be an actor.’ A ridiculous thing to say to somebody. Of course, this was near the end of the war, when I was stationed in Azure Bay. I’d been seconded to the Dragon Squad as a liaison, and –”

“‘Dragon Squad?’” Iris inched closer to Mr. Christopher’s chair. “What ‘Dragon Squad?’”

It was Cilan who answered. “It’s a famous unit of the Galar Air Force, Iris. They ride Dragon-types instead of planes and serve as a special attack squadron.”

“And you…you were in that?” Iris asked Mr. Christopher. And these two were asking you about movies!?

“Well, I was an officer in the GAF. I was attached to the Dragon Squad from time to time –”

“Axew! Axew!”

“Huh? What is it, Axew?” Iris asked. Axew’s head and arms were poking out of her hair. He pointed up towards the catwalks above them. With the work lights on, it was hard to make much out, but Iris saw it too – a big, boxy shadow in an open doorway.

“What is it?” Misty asked, but Iris didn’t answer. Instead, she ran over to the fly system, shimmied up one of the ropes, jumped onto a high line rail, and swung herself up onto the catwalk. Axew gave a little cheer, and Iris gave him a little pat on the head. Now about that shadow…

Shadows seemed to be all that was up here. The work lights were all hung below the catwalks, so only a little of their light came up from below. Everything was painted or plated black. But the doorway Iris and Axew saw was filled with a dim blue glow. Inside the room, a small square closet, was light after light after light – all turned off, along with microphones and boom poles and cables.

“Hey, guys!” Iris called over her shoulder. “I found the missing film equipment! It’s all – um, Axew? Do you hear that too?” Axew nodded and slunk down into Iris’s hair. It was a faint, muffled whirring sound, hard to place. There was something mechanical to it, and it seemed to be coming from more than one spot. It’s like it’s in the walls or something. I wonder if –

The boxy shadow reappeared on the wall; a few seconds later, its source materialized. Its four arms spread wide, its red eyes lit up below the mask on its forehead, and its gold and jade body took on a horrible shine in the blue light.

“AUGH! I found a Cofagrigus too!” Iris yelled. “And I don’t think it’s friendly!” As if to confirm that, the Cofagrigus reached out with two of its hands, blue and violet flames surrounding the long fingers. From the set below, Iris heard a crash, a shout, and a menacing cry of “Cofa!”

And there’s supposed to be seven of these things…great. Battling them would be much easier with help, if only she could get away. “Axew, Dragon Rage!” Her Pokémon popped out of her hair just long enough to fire the blast, which struck the Cofagrigus right between the eyes. As soon as it reeled back, Iris dashed for the exit. She jumped over the catwalk railing, grabbed at the closest rope, and slid all the way down to the set, just in time to see Purrloin, Shedinja, and Pikachu chasing another Cofagrigus out the open side door to the stage. Ash was sprawled out on the ground with his head and shoulders on Misty’s knees, inches away from the ruins of the sofa; it looked as though it had been flung at the ground, and Misty had pulled Ash out of the way. Mr. Christopher was leaning heavily on his cane, with Cilan at his elbow for support. And the director was still doodling, as if nothing had happened at all.

“Iris, what’s going on up there?” asked Cilan.

“It’s a Cofagrigus!” Iris pointed up toward the catwalk. “There! It – it just passed through the walls! I don’t know where it’s going, but it was guarding a closet with all the film equipment that’s gone missing.”

“The one down here just jumped us,” said Ash, with a slight tremor to his voice. “There was this sound – whhhrrrr – all over, and then – boo! – and – crash!”

“So you heard that noise too.” At least it had gone; the only sound left in the room was the director’s pen scratching on paper. Strange noises before ghost attacks…strange behavior and disappearances with no explanation…yep, my sixth sense doesn’t lie about things like this. Iris put a hand to her chin. “Well, you know what I think?”

Cilan scowled. “Iris, please. This is no time for superstitious –”

“I think there’s a curse going on here!” cried Misty. She stood up so fast that she knocked Ash off to the side.

“You what!?” Cilan and Iris gasped together – Cilan in horror, Iris in delight.

“Think about it,” said Misty. “This only started when those Cofagrigus saw that authentic jewel. Jewel of the Seven Pokémon was based on real legends; maybe jewels from that ancient civilization really can hold lost souls, and the one in the jewel Sir Bela brought is possessing the Cofagrigus and the other Pokémon on the set!”

“Exactly what I was thinking!” Iris hopped over to stand side by side with Misty. “I’ve had a premonition of something like this ever since we came in here! You know –” she leaned in closer to Misty – “you might just be alright, kid.”

“Well, I’m surprised at you, Misty,” Cilan tutted. “Any supernatural occurrence has a scientific explanation, and this is no exception. Surely you recall The Houndoom of Harkershire, where the haunted moor turns out to be just a thief and his Pokémon?” He nudged Mr. Christopher with his elbow and winked at him; it must have been another of his movies.

Misty scowled and put her hands on her hips. “Well, what about The Night Train to Snowpoint, when all the clues turned out to be wrong, and it really was a ghost channeling the Froslass?” She advanced on Cilan; Iris stayed back and slapped a hand over her face. Not another one of these…

“But you recall Mark of the Golbat, where the supernatural events were a tool of the investigation to wrest a confession from the murderer?” said Cilan, not backing down.

“And Kiss of the Golbat has the vampires use a ‘rational’ explanation to fool the heroes until it’s too late! I wish you could have played the head vampire in that film, Sir Bela…”

“Bah! You’re forgetting Galar after Midnight, where –”

“ENOUGH!” Iris shouted. “No more movie talk! We have two Cofagrigus to worry about, and one of them might still be in here!”

Pikachu and Mr. Christopher’s Pokémon came back over from the door. Pikachu hopped onto Ash’s knee and gave a few chirps and gestures. “The other one went to the stage next door,” Ash reported.

“The cave sets are in that stage,” said Mr. Christopher.

“Then it looks like we need to split up,” Iris declared. It was about time someone took charge. “Half of us will stay in here to try and find that Cofagrigus, and the other half will go next door. And I’m going with Ash and Mr. Christopher.”

“What?” Cilan and Misty looked like they’d both been slapped, but they were just going to have to deal with it.

“I told you,” Iris said, “I’m done with the movie talk! And I’m sure you’re driving Ash and this poor old guy nuts.”

“Now, really!” Mr. Christopher snapped.

“I don’t care, Iris…” Ash started; Iris silenced him with a wave. She linked arms with him, then with Mr. Christopher, and marched toward the side door.

“We’ll take the cave,” she said over Cilan and Misty’s sputtering. “You two and the director check out the rest of this place.” Of course, Iris was the one who had seen the Cofagrigus in this set, but she just wanted to get out for a while. It was hard to do, though, when her companions were resisting.

“I really must protest –”

“Iris, our Pokémon!” Ash dragged his feet so that Pikachu could catch up and jump onto his shoulder, and Mr. Christopher recalled his two Pokémon. But when Ash drew out Oshawott’s ball, the Water-type shook his head frantically and waddled over to Misty, latching onto her leg as hearts lit up his eyes again.

“…Fine,” Ash sighed. “But if she needs you to battle, you’d better do it.”

“Wait, what’s that supposed to mean?” said Misty.

“You’ll find out,” Iris snapped. “Now meet us outside in an hour!” She pushed her two partners ahead and started shoving them from the back to get them to the door faster.

“Young lady,” grumbled Mr. Christopher. “I do not need shielding from fan inquiries.”

“You don’t need to be nice about it, sir,” said Iris. “It’s got to be annoying, all those silly movie questions. Now – about that Dragon Squad…”

#z's fics #pokeshipping #halloween #cilan #iris #ash ketchum #misty waterflower #pokemon: black and white #fan fiction

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cursed-ice-spirits · 4 years

Text

Rebecca’s First Year: Chapter 9

Prev: Chapter 8

First: Chapter 1

Next: Soon.

“You have grown since we last saw each other, baby bird.”

Rebecca was being rocked back and forth, held in her grandmother’s warm embrace. She’s so warm. She doesn’t want to move.

“It’s been only 3 years,” she hears herself say, “since you died.”

“3 years too long,” Vega Lord whispers. “Oh, my fledgling, the pain you’ve suffered through… I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” She closed her eyes. “You always apologize. Why must you do that?”

“I feel like I must.”

Rebecca goes to retort but Vega pulled her closer, and the unfamiliar warmth from her embrace successfully silences her. Fingers ran through her long hair and gently picked at the icicles in the strands. No pain. She’s okay.

She’s alive. Safe even. Something she hasn’t felt in so long.

“I’m sorry,” she said, wanting to say this in case this is their last meeting and she’ll never get a chance to say it again. “I’m sorry for not stopping Grandfather even though I promised.”

“Look at you scolding me for apologizing all the time when you’re doing the same right now,” Vega sighed, picking the last icicle. “Darling, it was never your fault. He never liked getting help from anyone, including his family.” She looks down and gives her a wry smile. “A trait that you had inherited may I add. Be careful. It will be your downfall.”

Rebecca didn’t know what to say to that, so she stayed silent. Vega brushes her hair out of her face.

“My dear,” Vega whispers. “You must wake up soon, you know that, correct?”

“I don’t want to… I’m too tired…”

“You must,” Vega said firmly, cupping her face in her hands. “No matter how much I want to hide you and keep you safe, time passes in the world outside and you have a path you must follow. Go, my child. Go…”

“But…”

“Go,” she whispers once more and adjusts her grip on Rebecca. “Not even here is safe for long while you aren’t in the outside world.”

A flicker of a shadow behind the walls. It disappears, only for a split second, then charges forward and slams into the stone. A few cracks appear. Her eyes widened.

“GO!”

She squeezes her eyes shut and the last thing she sees is the cracks disappearing before her world goes dark once more.

—————

Rebecca wakes up slowly, disoriented and confused as to where she was. Her eyes flutter open and she found herself staring at a white ceiling. Dormitory? No… She drums her fingers on the bed she had found herself laying in. Hospital Wing. Her bed in her dorm and the secret room is far softer. Why was she in the Hospital Wing?

Werewolves.

That’s why.

She shudders. How is she still alive? Why is she still alive? She… She should be dead unless someone came to her aid… but who? It can’t be Chiara. She was unconscious and it didn’t seem like she’ll be waking up soon during the struggle.

...she’s ridiculously warm too. Blankets were wrapped around her and it’s kinda… nice. A difference from the numbness.

Something was wrapped around her arms. She shrugs one arm out of the blankets and slowly lifts one arm up to bring it to her face. Bare except for one thing.

Bandages. They were clean, seeing as it wasn’t stained with blood. Her mouth twisting into a frown, she let her eyes roam over the long, jagged scar stretching from her shoulder to her wrist on her left arm.

She hates that scar. Every single inch of it. She sighs and brushes her oily hair out of her face, letting her arm fall onto her lap.

How long has she been out? Maybe a few days at most. She had showered the day before the feast and now her hair is more oily than it was before.

Hearing footsteps approaching her bed, she panics and falls stump immediately, closing her eyes, her heart hammering in her chest. A year of living with her uncle allows her to fool anyone that she’s asleep. The only good thing that has come out of it.

The footsteps stopped by her bedside. A hand rests on her forehead. A voice speaks up. Female and tired.

“It’s been a few days and she still hasn’t woken up… just what happened?”

Another voice. Old and grandfatherly. Dumbledore.

“I do not know for certain, Poppy. Only Miss Lord knows for sure, I’m afraid. I only got there after the werewolves ran off.”

At least… that answers her question. Not surprised with how long she’s been asleep. It’s surprising but she does remember letting the ice take over so that might explain why... Her eyes stay shut, hoping for more information.

‘Poppy’s’ thumb brushes across her forehead. “I don’t understand… she’s so cold. I tried to warm her up the best I can but she only warmed up slightly.”

“Her brother always had an affinity for ice magic,” Dumbledore spoke. “And so had their grandfather before them. He has told me it is heredity.”

“Jacob wasn’t this cold — none of them were! You said it yourself that there was frost surrounding the area around her back when the werewolves first attacked. It’s just so unnatural…”

“It is the only answer we have, Poppy. The person who has the answers to our questions is currently unconscious.”

“Right…” The hand slipped off her forehead. “And we have to wait for who knows how long for her to wake up.”

“We’ll wait for as long as we can,” Dumbledore promised. “She will wake up. Have faith.”

“I suppose…“Have a good day, Poppy.”

“You too, Headmaster.”

The first pair of footsteps walked away from her bedside. The other lingered for a while, before walking away to tend to other things.

Rebecca waited a beat, maybe two, then opens her eyes and sits up sharply.

Shit.

They suspected something. Whatever happened back there, she knows there’s at least some evidence about her curse. This is bad, this is really really bad…

They mustn’t know. None of them should know. There’s gotta be a way to lie to them without alarming them that something is amiss…

Not for the first time in her life, she curses her grandfather’s big mouth. If only he had some sort of self-control and keep it shut, then maybe the staff wouldn’t figure it out if they do a little digging…

A flash of his broken body on the ground appears in her eyes. She grabs at her head and forces it away.

Not now, not now. She doesn’t have time for stupid flashbacks. She’s okay, she’s not on the roof of the manor, she’s here at Hogwarts in the Hospital Wing away from home GET OVER YOURSELF LORD—

A stab of pain hits her in the heart. Her breath shudders and she grabs at her chest.

Breathe in, and out. In… and out.

It’s getting worse, why is it getting worse? It shouldn’t be happening years off from her death, the signs should be going away by now, why isn’t it?

“Miss Lord!” She heard a gasp and looked up. Poppy Pomfrey, the matron of the school and apparently the person who was talking with Dumbledore.

So Rebecca did what she had to do and pretended she just woke up. “What… happened? Where’s Chiara and—”

“Miss Lobscua is fine, I’ll call Dumbledore later — You’ve been attacked, that’s what happened!” Pomfrey bustled over to her and laid her back down, checking her temperature and bandages. “Dumbledore found you unconscious. You’ve been asleep for 3 days.”

Rebecca blanched. That is not what she expected. “3 days?!”

“Yes,” Dumbledore said as he entered the Hospital Wing. “3 days. I was wondering when you’ll wake up.”

“All of us were!”

That means her brother’s birthday is tomorrow… Rebecca pursed her lips and shook her head driving away any thoughts of her brother. “Headmaster, the werewolves—”

“I know,” Dumbledore said simply. “I was removing five of them from Hagrid’s hut back when Greyback first attacked.”

“There were more of them?!”

“Yes,” Dumbledore nodded. He walked closer. “I had brought in an expert from the Werewolf Capture Unit. He was waiting for you to wake up to ask some questions.”

“Well that’s great,” Rebecca sighed, holding a hand to her head. “I don’t even remember much about the attack after I blacked out.”

“What do you remember then, Miss Lord?” Dumbledore inquired.

“I remember one of the werewolves trying to bite me but that’s about it. Then I blacked out.”

“Just like that?” Pomfrey said skeptically.

Seeing as I’m here now and the fact that I have no reason to lie, yes, Rebecca thought but restrained herself. “Yes, ma’am.”

Amazing she always managed to keep a filter on her mouth when it comes to people who aren’t Snape.

(She can’t help it though. Something about him makes her want to speak her mind.

Oh wait that’s just him being a dick).

“I see,” Dumbledore says, snapping her out of her thoughts. His blue eyes seemed to look into her soul and she shifted uncomfortably. “Miss Lord, there were frost surrounding the area around you when I first arrived to the scene. Do you… perhaps know why?”

A bead of sweat rolls down the side of her face but she doesn’t give anything away. “Father always told me my ice affinity is a little wild.” She tilts her head, the look of innocence perfected. “You were my Grandfather’s Professor when he was still attending Hogwarts, correct? I assumed you would know about it.”

“I did,” Dumbledore nodded, his eyes twinkling. “But you see… Madam Pomfrey was confounded when your temperature drastically dropped to below freezing. Any attempts to warm you up had little effect.” Then his eyes turned sharp. “I do not think your ice affinity can do that, Miss Lord.”

Her hands tightened to fists in her lap. He got her there. Ugh, don’t be snappy don’t be snappy— “It can. I just have little to no control over it when I am in distress. It won’t happen again, Headmaster. I’ll make sure of it. No need to make our matron worry again.”

Come on, come on. You can’t poke into my mind. I can lie all I want as long as I don’t give it away…

“I see,” he said, smiling. “Let us know when you need help. I am sure the staff will be happy to advise you with any problems you may have while trying to control this affinity.”

Safe. For now.

“Appreciated but I have it under control.” She let out a huff and wiggles out of the cocoon of blankets. “Regardless, I do remember some events before I went conscious. Perhaps it can be of use.”

“Absolutely not!” Pomfrey said sternly as she went to push Rebecca back towards the bed. “You should be resting!”

Rebecca frowned and moved away. “I’ve been knocked out for 3 days. All I got from the attack are scratches. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Pomfrey pursed her lips, before saying, “Fine, but take it easy. I don’t want those wounds to reopen.”

“They’re just scratches—“

“Scratches that are deeper than you think,” Pomfrey said. “Go along now, before I change my mind.”

Worrywart, Rebecca thought, and hurried out of the Hospital wing, but not before snatching up her robes and putting it on.

Seconds after leaving though, she crashed into something. Or someone.

“Welcome back, sleeping beauty,” an amused voice said as Rebecca rubbed her forehead. A tanned hand took hold of her hand and yanked her to her feet. Veronica.

Rebecca scowled. Well, it’s better than Lockwood at least. “Hello to you, Da Rosa. I love to chat but I need to look for the expert from the Werewolf Capture Unit Dumbledore mentioned.”

Veronica’s smirk dropped into a look of disgust. “I wouldn’t say expert… he is a bit of a Cabrón. Not to mention—“

“Da Rosa.”

“Fine fine. He is in the Charms Classroom,” Veronica sighed, straightening. “Good luck. You are going to need it.”

“Thank you,” Rebecca purred, going around her and bolting to the direction of the Charms Classroom.

“And if this is truly Hogwarts,” Veronica called out to her, “rumors will spread that you are awake! Watch out for anyone!”

—————

Rebecca slipped into the Charms Classroom and stared. Standing in the center of the classroom was a tall man dressed in some sort of purple uniform, a tailcoat with two rows of decorative polished silver buttons. A matching custodian helmet with a silhouette of a howling werewolf against a white full moon rested on his head, right over his chocolate brown hair. Green eyes shone at her as he turned around to face her, raising a hand to adjust his helmet. White gauntlet gloves covered his hands. Embroidered on the upper arm just below the shoulder seams was a black paw print on a white oval.

“You must be Rebecca Lord,” he said, extending a hand to her.

“...and you are?” Rebecca said slowly, reaching out and giving him a firm shake.

He thumped a fist against his chest. “Cecil Lee. I’m here by Headmaster Dumbledore’s request on the behalf of the Werewolf Capture Unit. We're a part of the Beast Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures charged with —”

“Capturing werewolves,” she said flatly, withdrawing her hand and folding her arms.

“Affirmative,” he nodded. “I’d like to speak to you about the attack you witnessed in the Training Grounds during the Hallowe’en Feast… I would have asked you earlier but—“

Rebecca sighed. “Say no more. What would you like to know?”

Green eyes met hers, his lips curled into a frown. “I want to know everything, Miss Lord. I think you’ll find I’m quite matriculate.”

Pretty sure you mean meticulous, Rebecca thought as she launched into an explanation of the attack.

#last chapter before Nanowrimo #i think i’ll miss today because of school oof #i promise i’ll edit this later bebdbdbds #hogwarts mystery #hphm #rebecca lord #jacob's sibling #hphm mc #hphm fanfic #first year #hphm fic #hphm fanfiction #vega lord #veronica da rosa #albus dumbledore #poppy pomfrey #cecil lee

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