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rainydayhogwartsimagines · 4 years

Note

First of all, I want to tell you that you're absolutely amazing and that I love everything you write!! Okay about my request I was thinking about Harry's younger sister x Draco!! I had this idea in my head for days and I'm dying to read something like that! Maybe a no Voldy AU where H and D still have their 'rivalry' and then D falls for his sister ofc. They have a secret relationship and to add a little bit of ✨spice✨ Harry finds them in a ... compromising situation... AND WHEN JAMES FINDS OUT

First off: I absolutely LOVE THIS CONCEPT. I haven’t even begun this request yet and I’m already thinking of James dialogue. Second off: You guys are all so sweet omfg I might actually cry.

Note: This ended up A LOT LONGER than I anticipated. Hope you guys like it.

Harry. That was your damn brother alright. He was older than you by one YEAR. And my God did that point come up ALL THE GOD DAMN TIME. It definitely didn’t help when it came to the fact that Harry became a seeker in his first year, making him the golden child of Gryffindor. You were honestly kind of thankful you were a Hufflepuff because sharing a common room with your brother would’ve actually made you murder someone. You were a little bit of a loner though, only keeping close to your friend Cedric. Lily told you that she was a little bit of a loner too growing up and then she met your dad James. Here’s the thing though: At least she didn’t have to grow up being overshadowed by an older brother. You didn’t hate your brother. You just hated the environment around your brother. As in: You hated that everyone seemed to focus solely on your brother. To be honest, Harry hated it too. You were talented in so many things and Harry could recognize his achievements overshadowed yours. You kind of lucked out on the big brother front though: At least you weren’t related to an asshole. Harry did care about you and supported you. Sometimes (especially during Quidditch season, when he usually became a bigger spectacle) he’d hide out in the Hufflepuff common room. But he usually refrained from doing that. Because that increased the possibility in running into Draco Malfoy. Harry made this fun little nickname for him. “The Crown Prince of Douchebag, long may he reign” Harry would always say making you laugh. Your dad didn’t seem too keen on Lucius Malfoy either. Your mother though, wasn’t vocal on disliking anyone in the Malfoy family. Lily always did have a way of seeing the best in people. Even your strange professor Snape. Your Uncle Sirius seemed ready to kick Draco’s ass anytime Harry complained about him. The thing you always noticed when talking about Draco though is that no one ever called him “Draco.” it was always “Malfoy”

You never had any interactions with the boy until your third year. Hermione insisted you study for the upcoming exams. You almost didn’t but when you passed the library her voice kept sounding off in your head and you sighed before walking in. You sat at a table, noticing the place was beginning to fill up with students, all of them most likely prepping for the same exams you were. You were reading intently before you heard someone clear their throat. The silver blonde hair immediately made you recognize the boy. “Can I help you Draco?” You asked. He showed a small reaction to hearing his first name being used rather than his last. “Can I sit here? The other tables are full.” He asked. You nodded and he sat down. You didn’t say anything to him for a good long while, even though you could feel him staring. You finally looked up “Can I help you Draco?” You asked. There it was again. His name. “Aren’t you one of the Potters’?” He asked. You frowned. “My legacy is not determined by my brothers, if you’re going to refer to me you will do it by my name.” You said sternly making him surprised. Not only did you call him by his first name but you showed zero fear in speaking with him. Interesting indeed. “...No offense but... What is your name?” He asked. You started to understand why Harry had such a strong disliking for this guy. “Y/n. My name is Y/n.” You said sharply. He opened his mouth but someone sitting next to you made him go completely silent. “Hey Cedric.” You said. “Hey. Do you have your potions notes with you?” He asked. You pulled out your notes and you went back to reading. Draco didn’t get up for a while. Not until after you left.

From that point on he began to notice you more. Were you always in three of his classes? You definitely showed an aptitude for taking care of magical creatures after seeing you in Hagrid’s course and witnessing the way Fang was with you. You never seemed to pay anyone else any mind though. You always kept to yourself, very rarely interacting with other students. Sure, Draco would see Cedric near you. But you didn’t really interact with anyone else. Fred and George would make themselves present near you, usually to check on you and see how you were doing. That let Draco know that you did have people active in your life. He noticed your presence was very rare in quidditch though, usually only when Hufflepuff played. But if that was against Gryffindor then you’d be absent then too. Draco was smart. He knew exactly why you never showed up. Harry God damn Potter. You never went because of your brother. Sure, yes: You made it clear by being seen with Harry that you cared about your brother. But you actually didn’t participate in any activities around a lot of people when it came to your brother. Cedric? Sure. He noticed you present for Cedric winning a Quidditch match and celebrating. Harry? No. You weren’t there. Harry didn’t seemed bothered by this set up though. Draco was curious. He HAD to know why.

Another opportunity came when Draco’s dumbass walked right up to Buckbeak. Of course Buckbeak nearly attacked him but you intervened, forcing the creature to look at you. “BUCKBEAK.EYES ON ME NOW!” You shouted. The creature merely glanced at you before getting ready to attack. You snapped your fingers though and he finally cut his attention to you. You blocked any view of Draco from Buckbeak, calming it down. Draco was mesmerized by your ability. Course the dumbass did actually fall and scrape his arm. “Christ you’re an idiot.” You sighed helping him to his feet. Draco frowned. “Sorry. That thing almost attacks me and I’m the idiot?” Draco asked. “You’re the jackass that ran up to a creature you knew next to nothing about, that is also in a foreign environment might I add, and expected it to act the way you wanted. Yes Draco. I’d say by this point you’re the village idiot.” You said making Harry snort. James. That was ALL James and if your dad could see you right now he’d be pissing himself of laughter. “Come on.” You sighed walking. “Where the hell do you think you’re taking me?” Draco asked. “You scraped your arm you git. I’m walking you there. Come. on.” You said sternly. Draco grumbled the entire time walking. “I swear I’m beginning to really understand my brother when it comes to you.” You sighed. “Excuse me?” Draco asked. “Surprised my brother talks about you?” You asked. “No I’m surprised you actually mentioned your brother with how little you choose to interact with him.” Draco said. You stopped walking, glaring at Draco. “I don’t know what you think you know Draco, but that’s not true.” You snapped. “Really? Because from where I’m standing you barely interact with him and you got offended by association!” Draco pointed out. “Do you have any idea what it is like to have to live in your sibling’s shadow Draco!? I don’t interact with him here because everything I do here is compared to what he can do.” You snapped, clearly very pissed with Draco. “Actually I do know what that’s like, but it’s not a sibling” he admitted. “Who, pray tell, do you live in the shadow of?” You asked, clearly annoyed. “My father.” he said with a sigh. Oh. Oh shit that actually was a reliable answer. “Yeah. It doesn’t feel great does it asshole?” You asked sharply. “No. Which is why I can’t seem to hate you.” Draco said making you halt again. “...What?” You asked. “You always call me by my first name. Never the last. At first I figured you did it because you liked to annoy the shit out of me. Now I think you do it because you know what it’s like to live behind a strong name defined by someone else.” Draco explained. You hated that the explanation made sense. Why couldn’t he be an idiot? It’s so much easier to hate an idiot. You walked into the medical wing and bandaged him yourself. You were used to having to do this to Harry after quidditch games that backfired.

Draco watched you carefully. “I don’t hate you.” You muttered. “Hmm?” Draco asked. “I don’t hate you. And that pisses me off. Because I want to hate you.” You muttered. “I’d love to hate you too, but that doesn’t seem like it’s in the cards.” Draco shared your sentiment, making you crack a smile. That smile was so... pretty. “you’re good now.” You sighed, finishing the bandage. “You’re good at this.” He said looking at your handiwork. “Harry injures himself all the time. You should’ve seen mum when when he broke his arm playing quidditch. She looked ready to kill someone.” You chuckled. You and Draco exchanged a look. One of mutual understanding. You held out your hand. “I vote that we become friends.” You said. He rose a brow looking at you and then your hand. “...Call me paranoid because of Fred and George. But if this is a prank I will hex you.” he said. You snorted. “I’m not one for pranks.” You shrugged. Draco shook your hand and you smiled. “See you around.” You said walking away, saluting him as you did. You made him chuckle at that.

The Hogsmeade trip finally approached and you were excited. Sirius was meeting up with you and Harry along with Remus and Peter. You ran into the three broomsticks with a smile. “Uncle Moony!” You said excitedly, hugging him. He chuckled and hugged you back. “Hi Songbird, goodness you’re growing!” He said. Draco was sitting in a booth, reading when he noticed you. “No hugs for me. I’m hurt, saddened. Shocked.” Sirius said dramatically making you snort and hug him. You hugged Peter too and sat down with Harry. You and Remus were close, along with Peter. Don’t get me wrong. Sirius and you were close. But not as close as Remus. “How’s school going?” Remus asked. “Meh. Boring. I swear if Granger tells me to study one more time I might actually fight her.” You groaned making Peter laugh. “You have James’ spark I’ll give you that.” Peter said. “Make any new friends?” Remus asked making Draco listen. “Uhhh... Just one.” You said. “Well, come on now who is it?” Sirius asked. “I’m not saying anything in front of you or Harry.” You said with a laugh. Remus leaned in so you could whisper. You told him and Remus rose a brow. “Come on Moony who is it, I’m dyin’ here.” Sirius said. “I’ve been sworn to secrecy. Can’t say.” Remus said, doing the “Scout’s honor” salute. “Even I don’t know this one.. Oh God it’s not Moaning Myrtle is it?” Harry whined. “No! Harry I have standards.” You said making the table laugh. “Is it someone I know?” Harry asked. “Not saying.” You said simply. “Uncle Moony at least drop a hint.” Harry said. “Nope.” He said, taking a long sip of butterbeer. You and Remus exchanged knowing glances and smiled. He handed you a book and you chuckled. “Thanks Uncle Moony.” You said, him hugging you. “I should go, Cedric is waiting.” You said. “Have fun Songbird.” Peter said making you chuckle. “Thanks Uncle Wormtail.” You said walking towards the exit. You noticed Draco looking at you and you gave him a smile. He felt.. Warm seeing that. You walked outside seeing Cedric with Cho. “Best not interrupt them.” You mumbled. You weren’t bothered being on your own, you actually didn’t mind it. But someone caught up to you making you jump. “Gah! Jesus Draco, say something before just sprinting next to me.” You gasped. “Sorry.” He laughed. “Who were those men in there?” He asked. “My uncles.” You said walking. “Why’d they call you Songbird?” Draco asked. “Were you eavesdropping?” You asked. “No, I just happened to notice it on your way out.” He lied. “Hmm. According to Uncle Remus I can sing. So they just call me songbird because of that.” You shrugged. “Ah... Were you talking about me earlier?” He asked. You stopped. “You were totally eavesdropping, you little shit!” You said. “Little shi-- I’m older than you!” Draco said making you laugh. “How’s Captain Pain in the ass?” You suggested. “God no!” Draco said making you laugh harder. Draco noticed that smug little smirk and decided to throw a snowball at you. “Oh you little--” You threw one at him making him laugh before you threw another one. You two fought on for a while until you tired yourselves out. But that smile just... God Draco’s heart seemed to hammer against his chest when he saw it.

You and Draco were a little on the secretive side of your friendship. Not because he was ashamed to have you as a friend. God no. But your brother was now watching you like a fucking hawk to see who this “New friend” was. Thank God he took after James and was completely clueless to who you spent time with. Well. Until Cedric answered that burning question. “Who do you think she hangs out with?” Harry asked Ron. “I dunno. I don’t really see her much.” Ron shrugged. “Draco.” Cedric answered. “Hmm?” Harry asked turning to Cedric. “She’s been hanging around Draco, last I saw.” Cedric answered making Hermione drop her spoon, Ron nearly choke, Fred and George both exchanging looks of “OH. SHIT.” Harry’s eye seemed to twitch at hearing this and it soon became obvious why Harry didn’t know. Harry got up, walking to the Hufflepuff common room and finding you reading on the couch. “Malfoy!?” Harry asked. You looked up confused. “What now?” You asked expecting to hear about some argument the two boys had. “You’ve been making friends. With Malfoy!?” Harry asked. Shit. “Uhh... No?” You lied. Harry shot you a glare. “Okay fine! But in my defense, I want to hate him. But once you get to know the guy he’s not that bad!” You said. “Christ, Y/n.” Harry said. “You’re lucky I won’t tell mom!” He sighed. “She already knows Harry.” You said. “So you told everyone but me?” He asked. “Do you see the way you’re reacting right now!? Excuse me if I wanted to AVOID this!” You snapped. “Malfoy--” “His name is Draco! For God’s sake Harry just GET TO KNOW HIM!” You snapped. Harry had never seen you this aggravated with him. “Fine! Fine. If it means that much to you I’ll try.” Harry said.

Instead Harry avoided that kid like the plague. Draco laid off the snide comments and snarky remarks because he knew you’d yell at him later if he said anything unwarranted. Harry didn’t want to run into the guy because he didn’t want to have to be nice. Quite frankly, Harry didn’t want anything to do with him. When the summer approached you were not hearing the end of this “Malfoy? Really?” thing. Remus and Peter was your escape and you were grateful for that. Honestly it reminded them of Snape and Lily. Except less dramatic. Hopefully. “I just don’t get it. Harry doesn’t even try with Draco.” You sighed, throwing a ball and catching it as you laid on the couch. “He gets it from James.” Peter said. “This is all just... It sucks y’know?” You said, unaware that Harry was listening from the kitchen. “I finally make a friend and my brother hates him.” You sighed. “All that matters is your opinion of Draco Songbird. Harry might come around eventually.” Remus assured. You smiled at your uncle. “Mum teach you to be this insightful?” You asked. “Life taught me that... And yes Lily did too.” Remus chuckled.

Lily didn’t have a problem with the friendship. James was of course worried because his baby girl was making friends now with mainly guys. Oh God he was not ready for this year. You rode with Draco on the train. When he saw you he nearly died internally. Your hair was longer, you were taller... Oh God this was a crush wasn’t it!? NO. NO NO NO NO NO-- “Draco? Are you alright, you seemed spaced out.” You asked. “Hmm? Oh I’m fine.” he said. FUCK. FUCKING-- FUUUUUUUUU-- “I heard from dad there’s something weird going on this year.” You said pondering. “Oh. You mean the tournament.” He said. “How did you know?” you asked. “Father works with the ministry division that works with the school.” Draco answered. “Ohhh.” you nodded. Sure enough the boy was right. The cup was introduced. The rules were a little bit odd but you met all the requirements to participate. Sooooo... Why the fuck not? You signed a parchment, stuck it in the cup and it was accepted. Your mindset was “Well plenty of more qualified students are signing up, I’ll be fine.” Well... There was a problem. The Goblet of Fire goes off at random, not by who’s more qualified. So your name DID get chosen making Harry and Draco both FLIP THEIR SHIT. Both boys were well aware of how brutal this competition could be. News got back to Lily and James and they were equally panicked.

Cedric however had FULL confidence you could do this. He trained you, making sure you were physically and mentally prepared for everything. It felt weird being the only third year in the room but you didn’t have a problem with it. Harry was practically begging you to drop the competition. “Harry! For God’s sake, just SHUT UP!” You finally snapped. He blinked, as did a few students hearing this. “I watch you play quidditch and you get hurt all the time, you do not hear me throwing a bitch fit over this! The only thing I need right now is your support!” You snapped. Harry didn’t argue either. Draco was supportive over you being in this but he was definitely nervous. “And you’re sure... This is what you want?” Draco asked. “I’m sure.” You nodded as you geared up for the first trial. “Okay... I’ll be in the stands... If you need me just... say something.” He said. You nodded giving him a small smile.

You thought everyone was being a bit ridiculous... Until you found out the first trial. “Oh no.” You muttered watching Krum run for dear life across the field. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned. “Dad!” You breathed before hugging him. Lily, Remus, Peter and Sirius all stood there. “Alright. You’ve got this Darling don’t worry!” James said, eyes twitching as he was clearly worrying. Draco ran in. “Draco?” You asked. “Which dragon did you draw?” Draco asked. “Uhm. The Hungarian Ridgeback.” You said. “...Shit.” Draco muttered. “Guys. I’m fine. Really.” You assured. Why in the hell were you so confident. Draco looked into your eyes and you felt your heart pound. Lily noticed the look and rose a brow. “Promise me you’ll play this safe.” Draco said. “Draco--” “Promise me. Please.” He said, looking at you and putting a hand on your shoulder. His feelings towards you were quite obvious to everyone... Except James. “I promise.” You said softly. “Y/n. You’re up.” Viktor said. You held Draco’s hand for a second before cracking your knuckles. You walked out, the arena being loud as hell. How in the world did Viktor deal with this for a living. Harry ran into the tent, noticing his family watching as well... And Draco. You seemed to be completely calm, despite having seen Krum nearly roasted. The Dragon thrashed against it’s chains and Lily swallowed her anxiety. You did something strange. You... Sat down. “What the fuck is she doing!?” James screeched. “Hi.” You said to the dragon. It roared in your face, blowing your braid so it was off your shoulder. You maintained eye contact with it though. How in the hell were you calm-- You didn’t even flinch when this thing roared at you. You stood up, the dragon retreating back before you held out your hand. It snarled making Remus uneasy, but you kept the same calm expression. It sniffed you, before you lightly pressed your hand to it’s snout and smiled. “see. I’m not so bad.” You said softly. Everyone was wide eyed. “I need the egg.” You said looking at the golden egg. It let out a huff but you kept eye contact as you grabbed the egg. It tried to follow but you halted the creature with your hand. “Stay.” You said softly. It did. You walked back out of the arena leaving everyone shocked. Did a fourth year just... TAME A FUCKING DRAGON?

You walked back to the tent and Lily hugged you, “You did so well-- Oh honey!” She said. “Well done Y/n!” Sirius laughed, clapping his hand onto your back. “I’m proud of you.” Harry said as he roughed up your hair, making you laugh and swat his hand away. You looked at Draco and he said nothing, pulling you into a hug. You dropped the egg, hugging him back. James nearly went “PROTECTIVE DAD MODE” On this kid’s ass but Sirius halted him along with Lily halting Harry. “When were you going to tell me you could tame dragons?” Draco laughed making you smile. You pulled away and chuckled. “I just remembered Hagrid rambling on about dragons and I went with what he told me” You admitted. Draco shook his head with a laugh and cleared his throat after noticing all of your family staring at him. “Uh... Hi?” He waved. “Uncle Moony, this is the friend.” You said. Remus smiled and held out his hand, Draco shaking it. “Pleasure.” Remus said. James’ eye was still twitching as Draco sat with you through the rest of the trial. Harry was too. Like father, like son. “Can I punch a kid? Is that illegal?” James whispered to Lily. “Yes James it is. It’s called assaulting a minor. And he seems perfectly fine.” Lily hushed him. James pouted and Harry kept watching you two.

The next few days were spent trying to figure out what the fuck the egg actually was supposed to do. “What the hell is this even for?” Draco asked, looking at it as it sat on the coffee table in the Hufflepuff common room. “Have you opened it?” Harry asked. “Yes. It screams.” You said. “Charming.” Hermione said sarcastically. “It makes me want to drown the damn.... Wait a minute!” You gasped. “What?” Draco asked. “What if I put it underwater to quiet the noise?” you asked. “Why would you want to do that?” Ron asked. “It clearly makes noise for a reason dipshit.” Fred said, smacking Ron upside the head, understanding your logic. You sprinted off to the baths, doing just that. You listened to it’s riddle, coming back up for air and raising a brow. “Come seek us where our voices sound, We cannot sing above the ground ,And while you're searching, ponder this: We've taken what you'll sorely miss, An hour long you'll have to look, And to recover what we took. But past an hour - the prospect's black Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.” it sang. “What the absolute fuck does that mean?” you pondered aloud. You walked back to the common room, hair still wet. “Any ideas?” George asked. “Well I was right. It gave me a riddle.” You muttered pondering. “Where our voices... sound-- Are there any mermaids on campus?” You asked. “...What?” Fred asked. “In the lake, I think.” Hermione answered. “That’s where the next trial is.” You said, snapping your fingers. “Damn that was quick!” George laughed. “Sure you’re not a lost Ravenclaw?” Fred asked. You sat next to Draco and chuckled. Your eyes were gorgeous when the fire from the fireplace reflected off of them. “I should get some rest. Tell Dad about the competition.” You yawned, leaving. Draco got up. “Sit.” Harry said as everyone else cleared out. Draco frowned. “I’m not going to just--” “I need to talk to you, sit.” Harry said. He finally sighed, sitting down. “I know you like my sister.” Harry said. “...What--” “Don’t play dumb, even my dad can see that you do.” Harry said. Draco looked at Harry. “Let me guess: You don’t want me anywhere near her right?” Draco asked. “Preferably: Yes. But Y/n likes having you around so I will say this...” Harry leaned forward, his eyes piercing through Draco. “If you hurt my sister I will kill you. Am I understood?” Harry snapped. “....Okay.” Draco nodded. “You can go.” He sighed, turning back to the fire. Draco got up and stopped for a moment. “I would never hurt her Potter. She means too much to me to ever do that.” Draco said before leaving.

The next trial of course had to be on a day where it was FUCKING COLD. Your family all stood outside with everyone else. You looked around noticing Draco’s absence. “Where’s Draco?” you asked. “Mcgonagall asked him to come with her this morning. Haven’t seen him since.” Goyle answered. “Hermione isn’t here either.” Ron noticed. You frowned, remembering the riddle. “Oh no.” You said. “What?” Sirius asked. “I think I know what this trial is.” You said looking at the lake. You pulled your hair back and Cedric handed you something. “You’ve got this.” He said. You cracked a smile, looking at the item. It was going to help you breathe underwater. You took it, waiting for the sound off. It finally rang out and you dived in, swimming through the murky water. You had an hour. You used your wand to provide light, swimming through the lake before you finally found it. They seriously chained students to the bottom of a lake? What the fuck was this competition? You unlocked the chains, gripping Draco’s arm before swimming back. Viktor popped out of the water first, Hermione with him. You popped out, water dripping from you. Draco shivered from the cold water and chuckled. “When Mcgonagall said I was needed for your trial, this is not what I expected.” He said, making you laugh. Fleur came back empty handed. “I couldn’t... She- she’s still down there!” She wailed. You frowned looking at the clock and then the lake. You knew who was Fleur’s challenge was. And that was a child. You shoved off your towel and jumped back in, making everyone run back to the edge.

“What happened!?” Lily asked Draco. “I don’t know-- She just jumped back in!” He gaped. The clock’s loud ticks did not make the waiting any less anxiety wracking. Remus was staring intently, Sirius gearing up to jump in after you before you finally reemerged with Gabrielle. Draco helped you out and you pulled your hair tie off, your hair falling to your shoulders. Fleur hugged you, thanking you for saving her sister. “My kids are awesome.” James said hugging you and Harry both. You shivered and Draco lifted his arm as to say “Get under here” You did, panting out of breath. The last three minutes of you being in the water were you having to hold your breath because the item wore off. “I’m proud of you Y/n...” Draco said, making you look at him with a smile. His eyes wandered to your lips and you both seemed to be looking at each other. That’s finally when James grasped the situation. Oh no. OH HELL NO. “Lily. That boy likes Y/n doesn’t he?” James asked. “It took you this long?”

You were quickly becoming aware of that damn school dance, as many students were asking others to go with each other in front of you. You were a sappy romantic, sure. But if you saw one more kid with a fucking ukulele or guitar you were prepared to kick someone’s ass. You sat in the dance class, loathing every moment of being there. You definitely had James’ left feet, because you could NOT dance. “Choose your partners.” She instructed. You sighed and Draco extended his hand. “I can’t dance so if I step on you, this is your fault.” You said making Draco laugh. You stood with your hand on Draco’s shoulder and his around your waist. Your face was probably pink from the feel of things. “You can move closer Y/n, I don’t bite.” He teased. You blushed, moving slightly closer and he walked you through it. “How do you know how to do this?” You asked curiously. “My family throws parties where we have to dance. It’s terrible.” He explained. “Sounds like its something out of Pride and Prejudice.” you said. “Hmm?” he asked. “Muggle book that goes over old English customs.” You shrugged. “Ah.” He nodded. “So the Yule ball is coming up.” Draco said, clearing his throat. “Yep. I’m aware.” You muttered. “Not excited?” He asked. “No I am but I’m beginning to despise the ukulele and guitar after this week.” You admitted making him chuckle. “The younger students have... Gotten creative.” He nodded. “Alright Grandpa, calm down.” You teased making him roll his eyes. “I was wondering.” Draco started before twirling you. You did, your back against his chest. “Would you like to go with me?” He asked in your ear. Thank Merlin’s grey ass beard that your face was turned away from Draco. “Y-yeah... S-sure.” You stuttered out. He twirled you back around and you were so red that if you weren’t moving right now, he would’ve thought you were dying.

You went back to the common room, pacing. Do you talk to your mom? No. She’d tell dad and then you’d have to deal with a potential murder. Who could you trust? Then an idea hit you. Next week was Hogsmeade. Remus! Well and Sirius. You loved Remus to death but he did not have that much experience in this area like Sirius did. So you wrote to them and of course they agreed to meet up with you. You went to the Three Broomsticks, sitting at the table as the two men sat down. “What’s wrong Songbird?” Remus asked. “W-well.” You sighed. “Oh... Do you need a pad?” Sirius asked. “What!? No!” You said. “Thank God. I am not ready for that conversation.” Sirius said. Remus smacked Sirius with a book, turning back to you. “What’s going on?” Remus asked. “I... I’ve been asked to go to the Yule ball.” You admitted. Sirius gaped with a smile. “who’s the lucky guuyyyy-- Or girl, I don’t judge.” Sirius asked. “Draco.” You answered. “Ohhhh.” Sirius nodded. “I don’t know what I’m doing guys. I’m freaking out here.” you whined. “Calm down. So he asked you?” Remus asked. “Yeah.” you nodded. “Well then what’s the problem?” Sirius asked. “What do I even say!? OR DO!?” You asked, panic clearly in your eyes. “Shit. Uhhhhhh. Well, the best advice I can give is don’t use too much tongue--” Remus, again slammed his book against Sirius’ head. “Keep doing what you’re doing now and go with the flow. You don’t want interactions with him to seem forced.” Remus said. “Thanks... And.. I hate that I’m asking this but what if he does kiss me?” You asked. Remus sighed and looked at Sirius. “I’m scared of that damn book.” Sirius said looking at Remus’ hand which was resting on top of the book. “Look. The best thing I can tell you is this: If he does kiss you, just go with the flow like Remus says. Unless you don’t want him to kiss you. Then you kick him in the dick and run.” Sirius said. “No hit for that last comment?” You asked Remus. “He’s right.” Remus nodded.

So there you were. The night of the Yule. Christ could you stop shaking!? You asked Cedric to walk you down the stairs because you had like, zero confidence walking by yourself in heels. “I am going to kill you Draco.” Harry muttered. “I am just taking your sister to a dance Potter, I’m not Fred here and being a playboy.” Draco said. “Hey-- wait no. No that’s fair.” Fred nodded before you walked down. Draco’s eyes went huge, lips parting as he saw you. “Thanks Cedric.” You said. “Anytime. Have fun!” Cedric said walking off with Cho. Harry’s eye twitched and George dragged him off, leaving you with Draco. “Shall we?” You asked nervously. Draco nodded and you took his arm, walking and standing ready with the other champions. “You look beautiful Y/n.” Draco said making you smile. “You’re not so bad yourself Draco.” You chuckled. You’ve been hanging out with Sirius for WAY too long. The doors opened and your grip tightened. “You’ve got this Y/n.” He said in your ear. “Not if you keep whispering in my ear I don’t.” You muttered. “Hmm?” “Nothing!” You lied. You two did that ridiculous dance, you dreading every second of it. But the music finally slowed down and you sighed with relief. You and Draco swayed to the music and you smiled. “Hectic year.” You said. “I bet it has been for you. Though, being held hostage by mermaids didn’t exactly make my year normal.” He replied making you chuckle. “I think it’s been a good year for us though.” He added. “What do you mean?” You asked. “We’ve gotten a lot closer, haven’t we?” He said. “Y-yeah.” You nodded. Form proper words Y/n, Christ. “And... I’d like us to be.. Closer if that’s alright with you?” He said. Fuck. Words can’t even form now. “Y/n?” He asked. “Like.. Dating?” You asked. “Only if you want to.” He nodded. Where was the holy spirit of Sirius’ dating life now!? “I’d like that.” You said with a small smile. His lips seemed to hover over yours, you now being able to feel his breath. You could feel Harry drilling holes into Draco with his eyes. “Uhm... Should I be concerned that Fred is holding back Harry?” Draco noticed. “Very.” You nodded. “Uhm... Wanna get out of here?” He asked. “Yep.” You nodded.

The two of you walked around campus, the winter air hitting you hard. You shivered and Draco took off his jacket wrapping it around you. You smiled and he slid his hand into yours. “So your parents seem nice.” Draco said as you walked. “Wellll... To be honest dad is more of a jackass. Harry takes after him.” You said, earning a laugh from Draco. “And your mother?” He asked. “Calm. But definitely murders people in her mind.” You answered. He laughed again. “What about you?” You asked. “Hmm.” He pondered. “My mother is very... Patient. She’s nice.” He said. “And your father?” You asked. “Stern. But I know he loves me. If that makes sense.” He answered. “It does.” You nodded. Draco smiled at you and brushed a hair from the side of your face. You smiled at him and he slipped his fingers under your chin, kissing you. Soft. His lips were soft...

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” You heard. “Fuck.” You sighed followed by rapid footsteps. “I AM GOING TO KILL--” you clothesline Harry as he sprinted towards Draco. “Wow.” Draco gaped. “I have uncles.” you shrugged. “Give this a rest Harry. This is just sad.” You sighed, helping him up. Harry’s nose started bleeding and Draco sighed. “I’ll take him to the medical wing.” Draco said. “Your jacket--” “Keep it. I’ll get it from you later.” he said with a smile. “I am so kicking your ass.” Harry grumbled, holding his nose. Draco walked the idiot down the hall and you turned to go back to the Hufflepuff common room before feeling someone tap you. You turned and Draco kissed you again smiling against your lips before finally dragging your dumbass brother away.

“You did not just kiss my sister in front of me, you fucking prick.” Harry said holding his nose. “Hey, I’m not the one who got clotheslined by her.” Draco reminded. “I didn’t expect her to do that.” Harry winced. “Yeah trust me, neither did I.” Draco snorted. “I wasn’t lying Draco. You hurt her--” “I’m not going to Harry, I swear.” Draco said. Madame Pomfrey rose a brow. “Did you two fight again?” She asked. “No, this was my sister.” Harry said, removing his hand. She winced at the sight. “Tell your sister she did a good job.” She said before Draco walked away. “Promise me that you’re not going to break her heart.” Harry said making him stop. “What?” Draco asked. “Promise me you’re not going to break her heart.” Harry repeated. “Harry. I swear it. Do you want me to make a blood pact or something?” Draco asked. “...Is that an option?” Harry asked making Draco roll his eyes and walk away.

The last trial finally approached. You were kind of anxious about it too. Draco however was confident you had the damn thing in the bag. “You tamed a Dragon Y/n. Whatever this next trial is, you’ve got it in the bag.” Draco said. James finally came with the rest of the family. “You ready?” Sirius asked. “Hell no.” You breathed. Viktor walked over, along with Fleur. You let out a shaking breath.. “We just wanted to say... What ever happens... Good luck.” Viktor said. “T-thanks.” You said. “Champions, approach the start!” The announcer yelled. You sucked in a breath and walked forward. You halted and turned back around, kissed Draco before leaving the Viktor and Fleur. Remus, Sirius and Peter hid smiles but Lily, again was having to hold back her idiot husband and son from killing the poor kid. “JUST ONE PUNCH--” “I’M WITH YOU HARRY!” James screeched.

The challenge began and you booked it, sprinting as fast as humanly possible through the maze. Find that damn cup. You took so many twists and turns, stopping for a brief moment to try to figure out where you were. Then you noticed that the maze was pulling you to the wall. “OH FUCK NO” was the only thing Viktor heard before rapid footsteps and you booking it as the maze walls were closing. You sprinted, Viktor right next to you as you ran. He went left you went right. Ironically, right was the right way considering you found the cup. You sprinted and gripped its handle before you seemed to float.

Your body hit the ground hard and you coughed. “God I’m so feeling that in the morning.” You groaned before getting up. You brushed yourself off unaware to the crowd that was about to scream in celebration of your victory. Well, until you heard “THAT’S MY NIECE MOTHERFUCKERS!” Followed by “SIRIUS!” and a loud smack. You gaped and looked at the cup and then the crowd as they all screamed in victory, Dumbledore holding your hand high before your family sprinted out. “I knew you could do it!” Draco said with a smile you hugging him as the crowd cheered. You panted, looking at Draco as your arms were around him and he kissed you. James didn’t even care by this point because damn it: You did it! Holy shit! You let go of Draco and he smiled before Sirius lifted you onto his shoulders. “THAT’S MY GIRL! WOOOOOOOOHHH” Sirius screamed making you laugh.

You all celebrated that night, sitting in the Great Hall with the cup. “So what are you doing with the victory money?” Sirius asked. You pondered. “Hmm... Hey, Fred, George?” You called. “Hmm?” Fred asked. “How’s business?” you asked, confusing the group more as you spoke. Did... you not hear the question orrr- “It’s going good, we’re beginning to need more room for the equipment though.” George answered. “Great.” You smacked the check down. “Buy a building.” Was all you said before getting up. The two boys looked at each other and then you. “Are you serious right now?!” Fred asked. “I don’t need it. Take it.” You said walking away. Lily snorted and James nearly pissed himself laughing. “She’s definitely James’ kid.” Peter laughed. Remus noticed one thing no one else did. Draco left with you. He smiled to himself and laughed at a joke one of the kids made.

You stood in the library looking at the genres. Of course your way of celebrating would be to read. You read a few passages before feeling arms wrap around your waist. You smiled, turning in Draco’s arms to face the boy. “Hi.” You said with a smile. “Hi.” He said. You smiled as he kissed you, sinking into his arms. “I really am proud of you, by the way.” He said after pulling away for air. You chuckled. You kissed his nose and he chuckled, kissing your forehead. “AAaanndd Got ya.” Sirius said making you sigh. “Padfoot. Five more minutes.” You whined. “I believe that is how long it took to conceive your brother.” Sirius said making you gag. “Okay! Moment ruined, I’m leaving.” You said walking away. “Works every time.” Sirius said. Draco smiled, watching you jump on Remus’ back. “She really is something isn’t she?” Sirius said, a hand on Draco’s shoulder. He smiled to himself as you laughed at your dad nearly screaming at the bloody baron popping out of the wall.

“She really is”

#draco fuckingmalfoy #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x y/n

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haliyam · 3 years

Text

interim (v)

zeke x reader/oc

summary: You return to Liberio not long after the Warriors arrive home from their failed mission in Paradis and discover that things have changed. (Or they will, and maybe a little more with Zeke than you expect.) [Season 4 and manga spoilers ahead]

AO3 link | Ch 1 | Ch 4

Hi again! Forgive me for this chapter and the next few ones, guys. I offer you this art I commissioned and an itty bitty happy-for-a-millisecond Zeke/Reader oneshot in the meantime 😪 (Please notice this I am so happy with it)

As usual, Reader default name Lucy is a cis-female Eldian character with a set background and family name. But feel free to set the substitution for Lucy to your chosen First Name using the InteractiveFics browser extension!

Chapter 5

“Why are you helping me?”

You grit your teeth, peering over at Zeke as he lets go of your foot. He was helping you stretch, seeing as you’re too fatigued to do it yourself, not to mention you’re covered in a heated blanket and he’s put hot towels over and under your limbs.

He ignores you, like he’s been ignoring you since he entered your room with all of these items, asking instead whether you wanted help or not. Like he’s been ignoring you since you arrived as a guest at the Yeagers’.

You don’t really like Zeke, and you’re sure he doesn’t like you either. You’re six, after all, with all the confidence the world can offer a child in your position, and he’s twelve, with all the arrogance of a boy already training to become the Beast Titan when the war in the South is over.

That’s why his help is so strange. And without Mrs. Yeager forcing him into it, too? It’s suspect, and you’re not even sure you know that word yet.

“Why—”

“Shh,” Zeke hisses, looking very displeased about having to respond in any way while you glare at him. When your brows unfurrow and you continue to stare at him expectantly, he rolls his eyes. Still, he finally speaks again. “Why are you like this, anyway? Aren’t you Magath’s new star would-be candidate?”

You were, until the ideology tests began. You don’t know they’re called that, but you’ve been doing terribly at the written exams which ask why Eldians are the dirt between the toes of real humans. Your answers show a well-read knowledge of Marley-sanctioned history, but distinctly lack the Eldian shame that comes naturally to your classmates.

This is concerning to the program and to command in spite of your potential, so it’s up to your instructors to beat that shame into you by keeping you running for far longer than the others, leaving you out of meals, or shortening your breaks and then making you stay behind so you can do everyone else’s grunt work, especially after you dared to look Captain Magath in the eye the first time your class fell in to formation after the first round of exams. And every other time since, like an idiot.

“Not anymore,” you answer, struggling to keep his gaze. You don’t really want to talk about this with someone who now must only wait to inherit his Titan. It makes you feel small, and nobody in Marley should have that authority.

Zeke wrinkles his nose. “That’s not an answer. It just seemed like you were doing great… and now you’re a baby that has to be coddled?”

Your glare returns, shame be damned, but the pain that suddenly pulses through your body as surely as your indignation quickly drains it. Your pride and your strength are depleted for the day, and you need to save what remains for tomorrow, when you have to face the instructors again. And besides—Zeke has already seen how weak you are. What’s the point? Tybur pride will do nothing for you now.

You lower your gaze for once. “Are you going to tell the captain?”

Zeke stares at you. “No? Why does Magath hate you now, anyway?”

You know why. Because you’re still a Tybur, and you refuse to be nothing. Even if nobody knows it. Even if you feel like nothing right now.

Zeke sighs again—a concession of his own, though that is unknown to you. “Fine. Just... my grandparents will get worried if they hear you crying because you can’t sleep.”

“I wasn’t crying,” you lie. Your body hurts so much that you haven’t been able to stay asleep for very long. You just didn’t think he could hear you crying.

“Sure,” he scoffs. He’s lied, too. It’s difficult to hear much noise inside your rooms from the hall—but you did pass him on the way to the bathroom with those puffy eyes just a little while ago. “Just make sure they don’t see you as pathetic as you look now—they already have enough to worry about. If you have to be pathetic… only do it in front of me. Understand?”

You still want to glare at him, but somehow, his words are almost as much comfort to you as the towels he’s heated for you. You don’t know the last time you let your guard down since the Warrior program began for your class, and you’re so tired. His words, however cold, warm you in your newfound frailty.

“Okay,” you murmur in defeat, relaxing in earnest. Your eyes are slowly starting to close.

“Hey!” he snaps within a whisper, quickly reaching for your shoulder and shaking it. You’re too sleepy to notice his reluctant concern. “Don’t fall asleep wrapped up in all this. It’s just a few more minutes, and then you have to go to the bathroom and put this ointment on your muscles like I told you. Remember?”

You do your best to widen your eyes and shake your head awake. The effort ends with you groaning in pain, but you eventually manage a nod. “I’ll stay awake,” you promise. When he sighs again and pulls the seat out from next to your desk to sit at your bedside, you murmur something else.

He frowns at you. “What was that?”

“I’ll stay awake,” you repeat, “but will you tell me a story?”

Are you surprised that Willy is coming to visit? Yes and no. Over the years, Willy has perfected the art of making his presence in your life known while somehow remaining completely absent. The nature of the new Lord Tybur’s existence in your world became immutable the summer after that fateful one, after you came crying to him and to Lara when you could no longer bear the loneliness of ignoring your friends’ letters for an entire year. Willy’s response, as with everything regarding Mila, was to turn away and change the subject. It was Lara who couldn’t resist your tears and confessed it all to you—what father told Willy hours before he became Lord Tybur, and then all she learned when she devoured him.

The new Lord Tybur was furious. It was only the second time in your life you had ever heard your brother so angry—but he never stays that way with you or with Lara for very long, and wouldn’t you have discovered the truth after thirteen years anyway? In true Willy fashion, he only smiled days later and expected you never to mention it again. The fact that you have, many times hence, is part of why your relationship is so frayed. That and his tendency to appear, shower you with affection, and then shrink at the first sign of trouble. After all, how can anyone expect you to love a man who can’t bring himself to stand up for you?

Your resignation to this is mostly what keeps you from worrying too much the next morning, when Zeke leaves for HQ and you elect to join the Yeagers for market day. Part of it is guilt—apparently you and Zeke now consume much more than you did as candidates, and you want to make sure that you’re paying your share—and part of it is that you still feel ashamed for letting Zeke see you act the way you did last night. You still have to take care not to groan outwardly when you remember how you shrugged him off when he tried to be a friend, or how much you practically wailed into his chest. Never mind how you hid behind him from Mila when he let you, like the coward you are.

“You’re so pathetic, Lucy,” you mutter to yourself.

Standing not far from you by a vegetable vendor, Dr. Yeager glances over his shoulder. “Hmm? What’s that, Lucy?”

“Er—nothing, Dr. Yeager. I was just thinking to myself,” you smile sheepishly. Drawing closer to avoid getting jostled by the crowd, you search over his selection. “Oh! That’s… a lot of potatoes. You don’t need to avoid other items on my account. I’m happy to pay for my share.”

Dr. Yeager chuckles. “No, no. You know how much Zeke likes them. And don’t worry, Lucy, I can carry them.”

“No,” you say slowly, exchanging a look with the vendor when Dr. Yeager gives his smaller basket a faithful pat. You reach for it instead, tugging a little when he stubbornly refuses. “I’m taking these. You can carry some of the fish, but I’ll be taking most of the baskets. Hand them over and I’ll bring these to Mrs. Yeager.”

Dr. Yeager sighs. “Very well, Lucy. But only because I know how much you like carp from our friend down the road.”

You grin, and he lets you take his basket so you can fill your much larger one with (apparently) Zeke’s potatoes. As you part ways so he can go and buy you fish, you set out to find Mrs. Yeager. She should be waiting outside a little cafe not far from the market—Dr. Yeager likes doing most of the groceries nowadays, and Mrs. Yeager’s one very important task is to buy the household’s favorite seasonal dessert: grapes. Unfortunately, the best grapes in the zone market are sold by an old man who has a bit of a crush on her, and he doesn’t like seeing Dr. Yeager if he can help it. Or Zeke. Or you.

That should be her only task, which is why you’re surprised when you find her with a man and a basket full of cured meats when you arrive.

The truth is you almost miss her, if not for the sweet sound of her amused chuckle right as you decide to head inside to find her. Walking around the man blocking her from view, you approach. “Mrs. Yeager?”

“Lucy!” she waves.

Her raised brows tell you she wants you to meet someone; evidently, the man carrying most of her baskets along his arms, wearing an apron over a button-down and slacks with his sleeves rolled up. You turn toward each other at your name, and after a blink or two between the two of you, you realize that the man’s shock is more familiar than you first realized—probably because it’s your second time bumping into each other this weekend.

“Lucy?” he gawps at you.

You give him the same look. “Kellan? What are you…?”

He follows your gaze to Mrs. Yeager, and the way it dawns on his face is enough for you to trust that this is another funny coincidence. “Oh—” He gestures to her, “I was just helping, er…”

“Mrs. Yeager,” you help him.

“Right, Mrs... You’re Mrs. Yeager?” he asks, glancing at her. It’s clear he’s seen her unmistakable red armband, but it’s not polite to ask which child earned you Honorary Marleyan status.

Mrs. Yeager is accustomed to his curiosity, which he soon realizes along with his manners with an embarrassed flush that makes you smile. Luckily, she takes over for him with a pat on his arm. “Kellan here was helping me with the meats I bought from his family’s shop. He was just telling me that he’s studying to be a doctor, and I thought, what a coincidence—but it seems you two already know each other! Isn’t he handsome, Lucy?”

Such a pointed question. You and Kellan meet each other’s gazes with mutual embarrassment.

“You really don’t have to answer that,” Kellan laughs nervously, which helps you snap out of your stupor and look at him. You suppose he is handsome, even with his dark hair mired in sweat and slicked back today. He’s tall, taller than Zeke and maybe even Reiner, with a strong nose and gentle eyes that watch you hopefully in spite of his words.

The Warrior program and boarding school means no one has ever looked at you like that before, and the novelty has excitement blooming in your chest. Maybe a slight pink on your cheeks, too, which you try to hide with a smile.

“I think so,” you say, his gaze and then his shock making you feel a new kind of brave. “And I have bumped into him a few times. ...Sorry again about yesterday.”

“That’s all right. Bumping into you isn’t so bad,” he says almost smoothly, very nearly matching your courage until he remembers Mrs. Yeager and, as such, his embarrassment. “...You know, because Mrs. Yeager bought so much. I’ve never seen my aunt so thrilled.”

You’ve never been this thrilled either—attractive boys were a constant topic for your peers at boarding school, but then you’ve never had the chance to meet one. You still haven’t. Kellan is an attractive man, a few years your senior and hardly a boy. And you aren’t a liar. He’s very pleasing to look at, especially when his eyes search yours so intently.

“Of course,” you say, trying not to look nervous when you take a step closer and reach for the baskets he’s holding. “Well, thank you for helping Mrs. Yeager. But I can take those.”

Kellan withdraws the arm holding her basket, giving you a once-over. “What do you mean?”

“Lucy is our guest at home,” says Mrs. Yeager, who looks far too pleased with herself. “Even if she refuses to let us carry our own things.”

“Please,” you feign a sigh. “I haven’t kept up with some training for nothing.”

Kellan looks confused as he glances between the two of you, but he’s determined when you meet his gaze again. “Lucy,” he begins, “remember that bookstore I mentioned yesterday? I was thinking—did you want to drop by after this so I can show you which books you can start with?”

“Really?” you ask. Perhaps you were hoping to see him again, make a friend or two at campus, but you didn’t think your encounters could actually move past hello and goodbye. But Mrs. Yeager was right. He is handsome, dark-eyed and tall, and the idea of more of those shy smiles is a flattering one. “Well… I’d like that. But I wanted to bring these home first. And aren’t you helping at your aunt’s stall?”

“I can take a break,” he says easily, smile growing just a little more confident. “And I can help you bring these home! You shouldn’t be carrying all these yourself. Er… If that’s all right with you, Mrs. Yeager. And I’d just have to change quickly. Been out here since early this morning.”

“Of course, of course,” Mrs. Yeager answers for you, giving you an openly suggestive look. You pretend not to see it, but stifle a smile yourself.

Politely averting his eyes to spare you the embarrassment, Kellan reaches for the basket on your right arm, and for a moment you understand the Dr. Yeager of a little while ago. But you’ve never experienced anyone’s chivalry before, excepting Bertholdt (and he was an angel to just about everybody and he was twelve). You can suffer Kellan’s for now.

“Thank you,” you say reluctantly. “But only that one. I have my pride to consider, you know.”

“If you say so,” he chuckles, readjusting the baskets along his arms. When he shifts them all to just one arm so he can wipe the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, his damp hair glistening slightly, you imagine the tales you’ve read of countryside romances at the school library and remember to swoon a little. When he catches you looking and glancing away, Kellan smiles.

“Where to, ladies?”

You find Dr. Yeager with your carp, and he is just as pleased as his wife to have another helper no matter how much he claims he can take another basket of his own. Your fears of Kellan’s talk of med school bringing out unhappy memories in Zeke’s grandfather come to nothing when Dr. Yeager expresses interest in the university system nowadays, and you’re happy to listen to the men converse about Kellan’s plans for specialization on the way home.

“I’ll get it,” Mrs. Yeager says when you arrive, hurrying to unlock the door, and the three of you file into the house while she keeps it open. To everyone’s surprise, the door to the kitchen is already ajar: Zeke and Porco are sitting at the table, poring over folders together in silence. It seems they didn’t hear you come in.

“Good morning, you two,” Dr. Yeager’s surprised remark shatters their deep focus, and both of them spring out of their seats. They immediately turn the folders over and stack them next to a small paper bag.

It’s Zeke who relaxes first. “Grandpa,” he greets, casually nodding at each of you until he spots Kellan coming in from behind you. He doesn’t notice himself straightening up to his full height.

Before he can ask, Mrs. Yeager beams at the sight of Zeke’s guest. “Porco! What a nice surprise. You rarely come to visit.”

Porco’s suspicious brow slackens into a smile for her. It’s almost sheepish, and if that’s the case, is it really Porco? “Sorry, Mrs. Yeager.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Things have been really busy.”

“What are you two doing here?” you ask, rubbing your arms as you set the baskets down by the counter. You join them standing by the table at Dr. Yeager’s urging. “I thought you worked Sundays.”

It is Porco, because he snorts, only a little more politely since the Yeagers are around. “We were supposed to, until our Warchief realized he left work at home.”

Zeke shrugs helplessly. “It slipped my mind. I hardly ever bring home work.”

Porco remembers that you were the one in a hurry to leave HQ two days ago, prompting Zeke to forgo leaving the files in his office when Boy Wonder decided he would accompany you home, which is seriously stupid because you don’t really need any more babysitting. But then the two of you did pass by the family bakery and Mr. Finger—so he decides to stay quiet for now.

On that matter, anyway. He gestures to Kellan, who is quietly helping Mrs. Yeager unload the baskets. “Who’s the guy?”

You shoot him a reproachful, wide-eyed look. “Porco—!”

“This is Kellan. He’s studying to be a doctor, a few years ahead of Lucy,” Mrs. Yeager interrupts. She hardly knows him and she’s already proud of him, it seems, pushing him next to you by the table. He apologizes when the surprising force of her shove has him bumping into you.

“Right.” You steady him with a hand on his upper arm and are unsurprised to find muscle there. “Uh, Kellan helped us bring the groceries home. We’re heading out in a bit so he can show me some textbooks I can study ahead of time, regardless of which professors I get.”

“Textbooks?” Porco repeats with a chuckle. “Since when do you study, Blanchard?”

“Since a while ago, Galliard,” you say pleasantly, even with your teeth gritted, wondering if it’s possible to burn alive with embarrassment while hoping Porco catches alight himself. When the new Jaw only continues to look amused, you sigh. “Kellan, this is Porco, and that’s Zeke.”

You could announce their last names, but everyone in the zone knows who the Warriors are, and Kellan already seems uncomfortable. You hope it’s not because of Porco’s remark and consider throttling the man.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Kellan says anyway, politely offering his hand.

You hold back when Porco shakes it. It goes on for a little longer than you expect and their knuckles are paler by the end of it, but you suppose that’s better than nothing, which is exactly what Zeke gives when Kellan extends a hand to him next.

“The pleasure is ours,” Zeke says in lieu of doing anything else. He’s smiling, one hand in the pocket of his uniform while the other holds half the stack of folders. “Kellan, right? You’re pretty persistent, huh?”

Kellan presses his lips together as he withdraws his hand. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

Zeke stares at him a little longer before he chuckles. “Nah.”

You’re not surprised. Zeke always takes his time warming to people, if he ever does. When he meets your gaze, his amusement softens into something a little more natural.

You smile back, unsure why you feel embarrassed all of a sudden when Mrs. Yeager comes up from behind you. “All right, Kellan, thank you for accompanying us home. Now, off you two go.”

You survey the kitchen counters with a grimace. The groceries still need sorting. “But Mrs. Yeager—” you and Kellan start in unison, and then exchange glances. His light laughter is a little more than charming.

“Ugh,” Porco mutters, echoing more than just his own sentiments.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mrs. Yeager says before you can notice. She rounds the four of you to pat the shoulders of Zeke and Porco. “I’ve found two new helpers in your stead. You can spare a few minutes, can’t you, dears?”

Kellan looks to Dr. Yeager. “But—”

“We can handle it,” Zeke cuts him off, but he’s decidedly ignored the man, waving at you instead. “Do what you need to, Lucy.”

“Thanks,” you beam at him, feeling oddly silly. Like a child playing adult as Kellan opens the door for you. “I’ll see you later.”

“Have fun, kids,” Porco calls out. He chuckles when you glance over your shoulder to shoot him a deadpan look, only to find Zeke giving him the exact same one once the front door clicks shut.

“What?”

“I’m sorry about that,” you say as soon as you leave the Yeager household and head down the steps toward the street. You glance back at Kellan, waiting for him to follow. “Zeke and Porco are nice when you get to know them. And vice-versa.”

Kellan nods, looking at you. “You seem close.”

“Yeah,” is all you can say. When you don’t say more, he doesn’t pry.

He asks to drop by the market again so he can pick up his things and an extra shirt, and you walk in relative silence until you reach it.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, open palms pressing at the air as if you’ll disappear the moment he leaves. It’s cute from someone so much taller than you.

“Go ahead,” you smile, and he does too before diving back into the crowd.

You adjust your armband as you back into a nearby building and watch the coming and going of Eldians through the tightly-packed throng. Long ago, during your first foray into one of the zone’s open air markets, you were disgusted and confused. Only your growing regard for the Yeagers and the thought of Zeke’s sarcastic surprise at the little you knew of the world had kept your mouth shut.

Over the years you came to accept it as part of this temporary home, and market day a time when Eldians could happily interact with familiar faces and keep one another apprised of their trials amid life in the zone. The strong stench of the place became a reminder of this affection you could only find within a community, one completely nonexistent in the grand, empty gardens of the Tybur estate.

The first summer after you left showed you that to Eldians outside of Marley, the Liberio internment zone—a place you still consider a prison for people you care about, where stepping outside its gates to look for a pharmacy when those in the zone have nothing more to offer can end in a beating—is paradise. It’s the most ridiculous thing in the world, but it’s your world. The world that the Tyburs have allowed to flourish.

Alone with your thoughts, you find yourself nervous. Why is Willy coming here? Only Mila was ever permitted to come and visit you—but that was when father was still alive.

Perhaps if Willy sees Liberio, the place that raised you...

You find yourself hopeful. Maybe it was father all along. Maybe Willy isn’t a coward after all.

“Sorry about the wait. Lucy?”

Kellan stands before you, hair no longer damp but brushed down a little more properly. The apron has disappeared in favor of a new button-down, the strap of his messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

His sleeves are still rolled up. You like that.

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile, readjusting the purse at your side. “Ready to go?”

Kellan nods, and is much more talkative now that he feels more presentable around you. He apologizes for his silence earlier—his own scent was bothering him, and he was embarrassed—and he starts to tell you about university as soon as you ask.

The bookstore he mentioned is a little far from the Yeagers’, but it is useful. Many are secondhand, but the store is vigilant about keeping only those published in the last five years. It regularly gets donations, perhaps from sympathetic Marleyans, though how they would know about it you can only wonder.

Kellan advises you as to the best books when it comes to basic medical subjects, which are what you’ll be taking up in your first year. In spite of Porco’s little joke, you’re eager to get started working toward that degree. General List’s words may hang over your head, but now that Willy is coming to Liberio, you have time to wait to tell him instead of putting off writing Lara about it.

“Wow,” Kellan remarks, once you’ve bought everything. “You really are serious about this.”

You glance up at him with a frown you can’t help. “You thought I wasn’t?”

“It’s not that,” he says at once, holding the door open for you as you leave the shop. He offers to take the books off your hands, but you hold the pile to your chest, waiting for his reply. “No, it’s more—I thought I was the only one who did this kind of thing. Study ahead of the year if I can.”

You relax somewhat at his words. “You do this too?”

Kellan nods, and when he reaches again, you let him take half your books. “My friends made fun of me, but I mean to become a physician. There aren’t enough Eldian doctors to attend everyone in the zone, and… I want to help.”

“I see,” you murmur. Suddenly, Kellan seems a lot more charming than he is already. “I bet you’re at the top of your class or something.”

Kellan only smiles, and you blink at him.

“Are you?”

He looks embarrassed about it the way you know most men in your life wouldn’t be. “One of my professors said if I wasn’t Eldian, I might have been offered a scholarship.”

“That’s amazing,” you say, a mix of admiration and pity swirling in your stomach. You wish you could help him. Do more for a man like this.

“Yeah, well…” Kellan shrugs, but he easily replaces his bitterness with a smile when he looks at you again. “You have a good study ethic yourself. You’ll do great.”

You can’t help but laugh at that one. “I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like passing the state exams was a fluke.”

“You wouldn’t be here if it were.” It’s his turn to frown. “None of us Eldians would.”

You wish that were true. Of course, you took the exams as Lucy Blanchard, and for all intents and purposes Willy had nothing to do with your results. You studied ridiculously hard to earn your grades and the state exam score—it’s just difficult not to wonder when Lord Tybur has always known what you were up to.

“Look.” He stops, moving to stand in front of you. “I know we just met, but—I don’t like hearing you say that about yourself. Okay?”

You can only smile. You haven’t known Kellan for half a day, but you don’t feel like challenging him the way you would the others if they said that to you. It feels like he deserves more than that. “Let’s just say I was always the more sports-oriented type. But thank you.”

Kellan looks at you as though he thinks you might say something self-deprecating again and he’s ready to gainsay it. When you don’t, he nods with approval and looks ahead. “Uh, so I was thinking…”

“What is it?”

“My friends study with me nowadays on university grounds. We’re allowed to, and the university library does have some books the store might not. The cafeteria has great food we don’t have in the zone, too.”

He glances over at you, and when you continue to wait for his point, he asks, “Do you want to study with us, maybe tomorrow afternoon? We have lectures to attend this summer, but I can maybe… pick you up afterward? The permit office will let you if you show them that you’ve confirmed your slot. If you want to,” he adds.

His offer is surprising and exciting and daunting in equal measure, because of course someone wanting to spend more time with you is nice, even if you’re ambivalent about meeting new people. Of course, the new people you met at boarding school knew you as Lucy Blanchard, the daughter of some Eldian servant for the Tyburs, and they were Marleyan to boot. Kellan’s friends are Liberio Eldians too. Maybe they’ll be just like him.

“I do want to.”

His uncertain expression immediately lights up. “Great,” he beams. “Will you be at the Yeagers’ tomorrow?”

“Uh… yeah,” you answer, after some thought. You’ll be at HQ most likely, but you can always leave ahead of Zeke. “Just tell me what time you’ll arrive and I’ll have my permit ready by then.”

“Okay,” he says, pleased. “That works.”

You exchange smiles, and he walks you back to the Yeagers with a more relaxed silence than when you left. He hands you your books once you’ve unlocked the door to the house.

“I really have to get back to my uncle’s, but…” He scratches the back of his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, right? Maybe… four?”

“Yeah,” you grin. When he waves, disappearing down the street, you hurry back inside toward the dining room. But it’s empty, with everything sorted in the kitchen. The Yeagers have left a note on the dining table about going out on a Sunday date, apparently presuming you would be out all day, but there’s another note from Zeke on the folded paper bag he and Porco brought home earlier.

Crybabies only, it says. You thought it was part of Warrior work, but you open it and find a few jars of your old favorite fruit jam.

“Tch,” you chuckle, fishing out the jars and storing them, but you take Zeke’s note and bring it upstairs with your books.

You get started on a simple lunch soon after. You want to re-wrap your new books in time for tomorrow afternoon, and make a note to replace Mrs. Yeager’s roll of plastic entirely since you neglected to buy your own. Once you get your permit for tomorrow, it’s still early enough that you have time to visit Mr. Finger, especially since you forgot to yesterday, and you end up sharing his dinner. You were embarrassed about dropping in when he was cooking, but he’s happy for the company, especially while Pieck is away.

To your relief, there are no guards in plainclothes outside the Yeagers’ when you return, and Mr. and Mrs. Yeager are in the living room chatting quietly between them. You greet them and hurry upstairs before they can ask you about Kellan, and allow yourself to linger in the bath when your reflection on Kellan inevitably leads to Mila and the night before.

Given how angry she was yesterday, you already know what she would say to you if she found out about any man like him. Not that you have ever considered sharing your life with anyone, but surely she would accuse you of trying to find some way out of your duty again, even when she knows that the family made sure—

The doorknob turning to no avail rattles into your thoughts. It must be Zeke, since you share a bathroom, so you hurry to get out and get dressed into your pajamas again. Once you’ve brought your things to your room, you give his door a knock.

He opens it pretty quickly. It seems he wasn’t expecting you, because he looks surprised to see you still drying your hair with your towel. On his part, he’s still in his uniform—just without the coat and the belt, one side of his shirt unceremoniously tucked out of his pants. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you smile, more pleased than you should be. You feel like you’ve been waiting to see him all day. “Was that you? I’m done with the bathroom.”

“Ah. Thanks. I’m still finishing something anyway,” he nods, and leaves the door open when you don’t immediately turn and go.

You follow him inside, flopping at the edge of his bed while he goes to his desk again. “What are you working on?”

“Warrior stuff.”

Something must have him in a mood, but there’s no use poking him at this stage. “I saw the jam. Thanks for that.”

Zeke turns away from his desk, his serious countenance lingering just a little before it finally falls away for mischief at the reminder of his little gift. “Like my note?”

“No. And only because it means I’ll have to share it with you.”

“Heh. Yeah, sorry—just putting off turning in paperwork I should’ve gotten done before.” He sighs, obviously trying to settle down, at least until he seems to recall something else. He glances back at whatever he was writing, his pen swaying noisily between his fingers as it hits his desk. After a beat, he slides his work a little further away from him and asks, “How was the date?”

You’d almost forgotten about that. “Oh—it wasn’t a date,” you say, and realize how strange it feels to be discussing a boy with Zeke. “Kellan is just helping me study ahead of the semester.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, like a promise. You don’t care to mention that you’ll spend time with Kellan and his friends tomorrow afternoon. That was implied, right?

Zeke shrugs, sitting back against his desk chair. “When did you get so fond of studying, anyway?”

You shoot him a dirty look. “The way you and Porco tell it, it’s like I didn’t know how to read.”

“No,” he laughs, making the denial sound a lot more like affirmation, “I just mean you hated it. Before Bruning knew who you were, you were in the running for either the Jaw or the Armor for a reason.”

You peer at him. When Zeke only lifts a brow, challenging you to deny it, you click your tongue. “I guess. But I didn’t inherit anything, so what was I supposed to do? I was never interested in the varsity teams… not that they would have let me join as Lucy Blanchard. And I wanted to be useful somehow. I mean, actually useful.”

“I know,” Zeke says, watching your fingers lightly pinch at the hem of your pajama top in frustration. It’s almost amusing how your tells haven’t changed a bit, but he can’t deny that it’s endearing. “Well… I’m glad you’re doing something apart from getting me in trouble for once.”

Your jaw drops. “I never got you into trouble for that long, did I?”

The two of you meet eyes for a moment, knowing the answer to that, but you both choose not to bring it up. He wouldn’t put you through that memory again.

“I don’t know,” he grins. “How long did I stand there getting an earful when you glued Nickel’s belt together?”

You stare at him, genuinely trying to remember—before you burst into laughter, hand over your mouth in sheer horror at the memory, as though you can’t fathom ever having done such a thing. Zeke is shaking his head, trying not to smile, when you finally calm down enough to present your defense. “That—that was Pieck’s idea!”

“No, Pieck said she wanted to do it. You actually did it.”

“But it was funny,” you grin. “And Nickel deserved it. Besides, I paid for that too.”

“Yeah…” Zeke’s smile falters. He remembers. You had been about this close to being force-fed the glue you used that afternoon, when you found one of Magath’s fellow instructors asleep in his office. “Nickel deserved everything that came to him.”

He remembers what you looked like when they found you, busted lip still stubbornly set in a line, trembling as Pieck shed silent tears when Magath dragged Nickel out of sight. But then your foot nudges his leg, pulling him from his reverie so he remembers what you look like now. Not a bruised or bloody memory that still wakes him at night sometimes, covered in sweat, but Lucy in the flesh, with a knowing expression on your pretty face. Zeke supposes he’s just as easy to read when you know his tells, too.

“Well... sorry about that anyway,” you say. “Pieck had a name for my brand of stupidity for a reason.”

Zeke knows what you’re doing. He grants it to you with a sigh. “No sense of self-preservation.”

“That. Don’t worry—I’ve developed one since then. Or Pieck’ll really give up on me this time.”

You give him a smile, as if he’s the one who needs comforting when it comes to that night. Why did he have to bring it up? He would put his foot in his mouth if that didn’t remind him of Paradis—of his most recent nightmare. The thought of everything you don’t know makes him feel like an ocean separates the two of you all of a sudden. Like you’re here, and he’s still on that island, a blade jammed into his maw. He shivers.

You lean a little closer, elbow on the footboard. Of course you’ve noticed. “What’s wrong?”

Leaving his pen on the desk, Zeke moves over to sit next to you on his bed. If nothing else, he can at least shorten the distance in one way.

He has a lot to tell you, Paradis foremost of them all. He knows Pieck must have said something, but he’s managed to avoid the topic so far.

He has a lot to ask, too—what was normal school like? Did you really not have any friends? You seemed to make easy enough friends with that Kellan character.

Zeke looks at you like he wants to say something, and then gets as far as opening his mouth before clearly thinking better of it.

“It’s Pieck.”

Alarmed at his tone, you inhale sharply. “What about Pieck? Is she all right?”

He was holding his breath himself, but he relaxes with a chuckle.

“Yeah. She’ll be back with the Panzer Unit in less than a week.”

“Oh! Good,” you say, but then stare at him, obviously catching the lie in his old answer now. But he sees it when you shift priorities (Pieck was always one of them)—you’re clearly excited to have her home earlier than she promised, but the why of it is giving you pause. “So soon?”

“Yep.” He shifts away so that he’s moving up his own bed, at least until he catches you giving him a disgusted expression. You can’t stand it when someone still in their out clothes wears them to bed, and he knows that very well. That earns you an eyeroll, but you’ve had so many arguments about it at this point, many of which began with well it’s my bed and which ended only because he couldn’t stand hearing you talk any longer, that Zeke only sighs and practically vaults himself off his sheets so he can grab a change of clothes before you can start.

He makes a twirling motion with his finger when you look, and you turn to face the wall. This must be the quickest that Zeke has ever grabbed or changed his clothes outside the rush of Warrior training as a kid. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly conscious with you in the room. It’s just you.

“You know it doesn’t count if you don’t shower, right?” you ask.

Zeke makes a snorting sound as he climbs back onto his bed in a shirt and a pair of pajamas, even if he feels like he’s twelve wearing the whole get-up right now. This time he ignores you until he’s got his back against his pillows and the headboard, legs stretched out over his blanket and his arms crossed over his stomach. “Do you want to know why Pieck is coming back soon or not?”

Your turn to roll your eyes. “Fine.”

Smiling triumphantly, he pulls out one of his pillows and tosses it on the empty space next to him. You wrinkle your nose at him, but he did give you the clean pillow when he’s given you the other before, so you let yourself fall forward on your stomach and rest your head on your arms, both crossed over his pillow. Your hair looks warmer than usual against the light of his lamp as you peer up at him. “So?”

Zeke looks away and shrugs. He shouldn’t be telling you this. But if his room isn’t safe for secrets, then where is? “One reason. Lots of movement in the south these days.”

Between the old Southern borders of Marley and Ulodana lies its new Southern territories, swept off the board by Marley and into its net in years past through the efforts of the Warrior generation before yours. Mr. Ksaver’s, to be exact, before they started training children. You had heard of minor attempts at guerilla warfare within those former nations in their bid for freedom, but little else. After your summer excursion with Mila, you began to distance yourself from news of the world when it came to Marley’s expansion, the Warriors’ activities especially so. Ignorance was better than guilt back then, but Zeke doesn’t know that.

“The South… you quelled a small rebellion there, right?”

“Yeah, but…” One of his hands drums near your pillow, tugging once at its corner as he asks, “You don’t know?”

“The Tyburs aren’t told everything.”

“Fair enough. Between the two of us,” he says, giving you a meaningful look you return with an earnest nod, “a couple of the leaders escaped into the eastern peninsula. Who knows what support they’ve gotten since then?”

You take a deep breath and hum as you exhale. “...That explains why General List reached out to me.”

“List? He’s the one who called the meeting with you?”

You prop yourself up on your elbows. “Didn’t the commander say he was there?”

“He doesn’t tell me everything. So have you decided?”

You almost look amused. “You know I can’t move without Willy’s say-so.”

He shrugs. Needless to say he doesn’t care all that much for the new Lord Tybur, who sounds just as absent as your old man was back then. “I meant what do you want?”

When your surprise at his question starts to fade, you lower your gaze at his quirked brow, slouching a little. “I don’t know. List wants me to… ‘be the new face’ of the Foundation. Distance it, myself from the regime so we can build headquarters abroad and bring in intelligence. That way we can bring more Eldians into the safety of the organization, but...”

“What?” Zeke snaps, sitting upright all of a sudden, but all the reasons you shouldn’t do it skid to a halt behind his teeth when you recoil in surprise. He pauses, clearing his throat, and reaches up to scratch behind his ear instead. “...would your brother put you in danger like that? What about Tybur non-involvement?”

You scoff, eyes narrowed at nothing you can see here. “That’s not what the general thought. He only said Willy wouldn’t do it to Mila.” Zeke grunts at her name, and you shake your head. “I mean… maybe it’s moot. She would never give up control of the Foundation.”

“Yeah... Maybe.” Maybe it’s enough that you’re ambivalent. General List is one of General Calvi’s close allies, and he’s well-known in certain circles to get what he wants. But even he can’t change the century-old tradition of Tybur ‘neutrality,’ even if part of Zeke is curious to see if Mila Tybur or Hulbart List would win in a battle of wills.

He sets that aside when he catches a distant look in your eye. He’s only ever seen one reason you’ve looked like this. Or two. “She didn’t drop by again today, did she?”

You shake your head. “She had Foundation business yesterday. She must have gone from the city last night the minute she left here.”

“Then what is it?”

You look at him, and now he knows what it is. “I just… ugh,” your eyes fall to his sheets. “I don’t know. I was so pathetic yesterday. I wish I—I wish that I could have said something to her.” Your voice is quieter when you add, face flush with embarrassment, “I wish you hadn’t seen me like that.”

“This again,” he says at once. It was difficult not to cut you off from the get-go. “Have you forgotten already? If you have to be pathetic…” He reaches over to graze your chin with the curve of his index finger, tilting it forward so that you meet his gaze. “You can be pathetic in front of me. Understand?”

His soft smile is the same as it was in the hallway yesterday. Warm still, like the solid expanse of his chest when you wept in his arms, but suddenly his finger beneath your skin feels hot. Tingles where he touches you. Like your face, now that he’s looking at you like that.

That’s not right. Zeke is either an annoying jerk who should shut his face forever or all comfort, blankets tucked up to your nose after a grueling day of work and a warm bath; a good night’s rest. Wrapped up in a hot blanket, the murmur of his voice lulling you into a deep and restful sleep. Not standing over a precipice with only the whim of the wind behind you or the rush of blood pounding through your ears without warning.

This is not the Zeke you’ve wanted back for the past six summers.

His touch scalds you—or maybe the memories you keep closest to your heart, as if any closer, any longer and it might burn them away forever.

You tremble, but not with pain, and decidedly ignore it as you stare at him, forcing a slight wince on your mouth. You hope he doesn’t notice you gulp. “That was probably more impressive when I was a kid.”

Zeke lets his jaw drop—it must have been a while since anyone denied him their awe—but he only laughs, so deep and hearty you feel his mirth in your own chest, before he flicks a finger at your nose. “You little ingrate. That was supposed to be touching!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grin, a little too widely for your own good. Batting away at his hand, you sit up and slide off his bed. You’re strangely hyperaware of the way you gulp again once your feet find your slippers. When your eyes meet, he’s pretending to be cross with you. Maybe you like it better that way.

“But thank you,” you say, rubbing an arm. “Really.”

Zeke only nods, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as you head for the door. “Lucy—you still coming to HQ tomorrow?”

You glance back only once you’ve got your hand on the doorknob. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” he says, but he looks pleased. “All right, get out. Distracting me from work and then telling me I’m not impressive anymore…”

“Spend more time with the kids. They still think the world of you. Good night!”

Zeke could probably chuck a pillow at you when you give him a little cackle before shutting his bedroom door, but he lets you escape with your dignity intact.

At any rate, he’s in a much better mood when he gets back to work.

////////

If you're worried about Kellan, you can click the fic list link on my bio for spoilers. (assuming you haven’t already read the other oneshots ahahha)

The flashback at the start of the chapter (as well as the others in the next few chapters) is something of an edited excerpt from a long-ass oneshot I wrote detailing Lucy’s childhood from before she left the Tybur estate, going through her Warrior training, and until a little after the time Lara inherited the War Hammer which I was/am debating with myself about editing&posting maybe after finishing the sequel fic to this which occurs during the Mid East-Marley War. I wondered if I should keep flashbacks out except for 2 crucial flashbacks toward the end of the story, but I’ve been sad about the dumb leaks post-139, having this feeling of ‘what’s the point of all this then if it all ends in that’ (even if this will be canon divergent), and I decided I would like to show the most important bases for Lucy’s relationships with at least Zeke and Pieck before she left, plus editing this in made me happy, so yeah.

Also! I know Zeke was a sweet little boy... but he was alienated by his classmates when he did poorly at first and burdened with expectation his whole life. No doubt that alienation shifted to sudden praise, admiration, or jealousy as soon as he became a candidate, and my hc is it made him a cynical kid when it came to others his age and even older people. Of course, he does eventually learn to be more charming (or annoying) and does have friends (as much as you can have friends in his position and with his life view), but that to me is why he’s like that at 12. Mr. Ksaver is exempt from this obviously as he completely trusts the man.

Another note: This is tagged zeke x reader because it’s in 2nd person POV, but also zeke x oc because reader or Lucy has a set background and family name. If you've gotten this far in interim I'm sure you already know what that is. XD So... please don’t send me hate or frustrations about why she looks like she does in the commissioned art I linked in the top of this chapter. Her family name necessitates that she’s white, I'm sorry. I hate having to say this but I'm not white either, or white-passing or w/e, but as I said in my note in chapter 1 I want to write a Tybur OC. If you’re going to send hate about me making a Barbie doll to complete Zeke or whatever I’m just going to delete it. Lucy is much more than that, in fact Zeke is not an entirely positive force in her life though they may appear to implicitly understand one another, and I have an entire background story and development for her that I‘m excited to write and share. I’m (not) sorry if me taking the time out from that to commission art that makes me happy grinds your gears. Of course I hope that readers will enjoy what I've written for myself but if you don't like it, just click away please. I won't be responding to complaints about that from here on out.

Anyway, thank you as always for reading! Would love to hear what you think. Of the flashback, of Kellan, of Zeke, of Lucy's blatant denial of certain things (I love and hate this), whichever! (Also can you tell I love Porco? He notices everything. Or almost everything.)

24 notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 3 years

Note

Hey, I've been struggling with stress from work and school and been having a hard time trying to do both at the same time and worried that I won't do well in my class. Could I request some headcanons where the reader has been having built up stress because of work and school and when the little hope group notices and asks about whats wrong, she breaks down and they comfort her and help her? Its just been super hard for me with school since I have to drive an hour to get up to school and I work about everyday I don't have class and don't have time to email my teacher for help and the one assignment I have is due this Thursday and it was assigned the Thursday of last week, and I worked every day since then.

Sure thing dear! So sorry for the late reply and post of your request but here it finally is and I hope it makes the wait you had to endure worth it. XOXO, Vy 💕

Little Hope Daniel, Taylor, Andrew & Reader (Female)

Warnings: Burnout, Breakdown caused by burnout

- It has been two weeks of consistent, non-stop exams that have been wreaking havoc on Y/N’s sanity and mental stability - She cannot remember ever feeling so horrible in her entire life - Not only does she put endless amounts of pressure on herself to pull off every one of those exams with flawless marks, but she’s succumbing to the side-effects of the overwhelming college work which include isolation, deteriorating mental, physical and emotional health and massive burnout which is gonna kick her butt with a whole new strength when it’s all over - That being said, on can probably imagine that it’s been a while since anyone has seen or heard from her and her friends are concerned to say the least - The trio she’s closest with can’t help but bombard her with calls and messages (most of which curtesy of Taylor herself) but their methods aren’t very effective seeing as how they either get no reply or a very short one - “Well, she can’t leave us on ‘seen’ in person, I hope.” Taylor declared one day, sparking and pursuing the idea of showing up at Y/N’s dorm which she shared with another girl that was frequently absent - And so that very afternoon they were off to their friend's apartment, the worry they'd been feeling for her all this time bubbling up and sizzling with the anxiety of what would greet them at her dorm - For starters, they were fearing a not-so-warm welcome, considering the time of the semester - aka exam season - and also her love for personal space and privacy - However, what they were greeted with was far worse - Dark circles from lack of sleep, red eyes, messy hair, pajamas - "What the hell??" - The words were mumbled in utter shock on Taylor's part but they were only responded to with an eye-roll from Y/N - "Sup guys. Need something? It's, um, unusual for you to be here..." - "Yeah, and it's unusual for you to be a messy wreck but here we are." - That type of honesty can only come from a best friend and not be taken as an insult which is why Taylor was the only one who thought of voicing her thoughts - Daniel and Andrew wouldn't dare - Well, despite the rules of best friends, Y/N seems to have taken the words to heart - Her red eyes get even redder, jaw weakly clenched - "Yeah, bunt out thanks to exams appears to be my new style, huh? At least I'm pulling it off, am I not? You think I want to look, feel and be closed off like this? Think again!" - Y/N is usually the definition of a calm and collected person - That being said, the trio went into damage control mode - A mode which in this situation would consist of comfort food, some break time for Y/N t collect herself and also a study group to divide the work she's been doing alone all this time into four - And boy did it make her wish she had turned to them for help sooner - It sure would've saved her a ton of time and energy - And tears - "You guys are the best!" She sighs, hugging her three saviors as much as she can due to them sitting in a square formation - "Hope this taught you a lesson." Taylor says, poking Y/N's ribs with a highlighter, causing her to giggle - "When on the verge of a breakdown, you need your friends around." - "Damn straight"

#the dark pictures little hope #the dark pictures #the dark pictures anthology little hope #the dark pictures man of medan #the dark pictures anthology #little hope #little hope fanfic #little hope daniel #little hope taylor #little hope andrew #little hope x reader #little hope headcananos #headcanons #video game #video game headcananos #reader #x reader #request

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alyasgf · 3 years

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Twin Chefs- Adrinette April Day 9 Baking Lessons

Previous || Next

Summary- Marinette teaching Adrien how to bake.

Excerpt-

Trying to lighten the mood, Adrien reached for the chocolate chips and opened them.

“Hey, do you wanna see a cool trick?” He asked with a mysterious gleam in his eyes.

He then grabbed a chocolate chip and threw it in the air.

Notes- Day 9 of Adrinette April! Exam season is burning me out a bit so this one may not be as good but this is me pushing through

This can be read on it’s own or a part two to my fic “It’s the Thought That Counts?”

AO3

Begin—————

Marinette heard the bell above the door ring and immediately bolted through the door and into the bakery.

Again, it was just a customer.

“Honey if you’re going to run in here every time someone walks in maybe you should help out at the register.” Sabine said with a small laugh. “Of course it’s not like I wouldn’t let you know the minute Adrien walked in.”

“Sorry mom.” Marinette blushed. “He’s just supposed to show up any minute now so I’m a little jumpy.”

Marinette could hardly focus on anything all day. Adrien had texted her the previous night to ask if he could come over for a baking lesson and her parents were leaving for a date around the same time. Meaning it would just be them two. All alone. Together.

“Why don’t you busy yourself by going to see if your father is ready for our date?” She suggested.

Marinette groaned but did as she was told. Her dad followed her back down from the apartment to the bakery, and there she finally saw Adrien.

He sat with Sabine at the table eating a croissant. He laughed as Sabine had made a comment, and Marinette’s heart fluttered.

Then Adrien’s eyes caught hers and she froze.

“Hey Marinette!” He said brightly. “I’m really excited to learn how to make cookies with you today.”

He stood up and walked over to her and her father.

“Hi Mr. Dupain Cheng, its good to see you.”

He put his hand out to Tom and he shook it lightly. He turned to put his hand out to Marinette.

The thought of her hand touching his sent a wave of anxiety through her body.

“Well I guess you guys better get going!” She jumped towards her father and nudged him towards the door as her mother followed. “We’ll make sure everything’s cleaned before you get back, have fun, bye!” She closed the door behind them and leaned back on it with a sigh.

“So you ready Mari?” Adrien asked, leaning slightly to the side trying to get her attention.

“Right right yeah definitely!” She said a little too loudly and walked up the stairs toward the kitchen.

A little confused, Adrien stopped for a moment before shrugging and following behind her.

In the kitchen all the ingredients were laid out on the counter neatly.

“Okay so first you uh...” Marinette’s mind went blank. The easiest thing to bake and in the presence of this boy she completely forgot.

“Mari, are you ok?” Adrien asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

This made her immediately yelp and jump back.

“Yeah I’m fine, perfectly fine.” She replied walking over to the ingredients. “We need to put all the dry ingredients together first.”

Trying to lighten the mood, Adrien reached for the chocolate chips and opened them.

“Hey, do you wanna see a cool trick?” He asked with a mysterious gleam in his eyes.

He then grabbed a chocolate chip and through it in the air. He tried to catch it in his mouth, but instead he leaned too far back and fell right onto his behind.

The chocolate chip fell right beside him.

There was a beat of silence before it was broken by Marinette’s uncontrollable laughter. Adrien blushed while still on the floor, but he was happy to have broken the ice.

Marinette put her hands on the counter in an attempt to steady herself, tears in her eyes. Once she calmed down she turned to the blonde boy.

“Sorry for laughing.” She said, eyes still light and noticing how red Adrien was. She put her hand out to help him up.

“Let’s see you do it then.” He took her hand and gave a challenging smirk.

Marinette promptly threw a chocolate chip in the air and caught it effortlessly. Looks like Ladybug’s hand eye coordination finally rubbed off on her.

“Y’know Adrien” Marinette began, “We do have an extra bag of chocolate chips. Want a challenge? Whoever loses has to clean up the most mess.”

“Deal.” Adrien responded. He grabbed the bag and walked into the bakery. “I take it we’ll come back to the baking later?”

“Shouldn’t take too long to beat you.” She said smiling and following behind him.

———————————

It took almost 20 minutes, and due to some unfortunate distraction, Marinette lost by one.

On the last round as they were tied up, Marinette couldn’t help but notice how free and happy he looked. Then as he counted down from three, Marinette got distracted by his lips.

“No fair it was only one point!” She groaned.

“Nope rules are rules.” He smirked. “I’ll warn you now, I’m a very messy cook.”

“If the brownies you gave me are anything to go by, I’d say you aren’t any kind of cook.”

“Hey! That’s what I’m here for. Besides you said they were fine.” He protested.

“You were making a puppy face what was I supposed to say?” She said with a poorly hidden blush. “C’mon we’re here to bake!”

She then promptly stood up and rushed into the kitchen. Adrien followed.

“Come open the flour I think I forgot to take out the sugar, I’ll be right back.” She left the room to look in the back for the sugar.

She was just reaching for it when she heard a very familiar ripping noise and a yelp.

“Adrien? What just happened?” She asked, dreading the answer.

“Uh... would you believe me if I said nothing?”

Marinette grabbed the sugar and walked swiftly into the other room. Just as she thought, the worst had occurred.

There was flour everywhere. Adrien had pulled the sides of the bag too hard while opening it, and it had ripped straight down the middle. There in the center of the chaos was a flour covered Adrien Agreste.

“Oops?” Adrien smiled at her sheepishly.

She sighed and returned the smile.

“Just because I lost doesn’t mean you have to make the mess I have to clean even bigger y’know.”

She turned and grabbed a rag for Adrien.

“We didn’t even get an apron on you!” She laughed and handed him the rag. “There’s not much of a point to give you one now is there?”

“No, but maybe you should’ve gotten yourself one.” Adrien said mischievously. Before Marinette could realize what he said, he laid a flour covered hand on her shoulder.

She gasped. “Adrien! You’ve already wasted our ingredients and now your ruining my clothes!”

“We have to be in the same boat! There’s no hard feelings.” He cupped some of the loose powder in his hand and blew it into her unamused face. “There, even.”

——————————-

After they managed to acquire more flour, the rest of the baking went off without a hitch. For the most part.

Adrien managed to drop an egg, Marinette forgot to put the stand mixer on a low setting when Adrien absent mindedly touched her hand with his own, and about a third of the cookie dough was eaten before it made it into the oven.

“I just can’t believe you’ve never had raw cookie dough before!”

“I hardly ever have cookies the moment just never came up.”

Marinette was now cleaning the flour, oil and other ingredienttts off the counters and floors. Adrien sat criss crossed on a stool not too far. She might’ve complained about the lack fo help if he didn’t look so adorable. Sitting like that with a handful of cookie dough in his hand, he looked so carefree and childlike.

Still she couldn’t help but tease. “You too good for cleaning Agreste?”

“Last I checked I didn’t lose a challenge Dupain Cheng.” He laughed with a bit of dough in his mouth.

“Well you can help by collecting the dishes into the sink while I put away the ingredients.” She said finishing cleaning up the last of the counters. Adrien’s clothes were still covered in flour and Marinette still had some in her hair and on her face.

“Wait, I want to do something first.” Adrien hopped off the stool, finishing up the last of the dough. He walked over and pulled out his phone. “Picture?”

Marinette nodded and he put his arm around her shoulders. She shivered.

“Say cheese!”

Marinette snuck a quick glance at the boy before smiling. He had a soft look in his eyes and a genuine smile. Nothing like the magazine spreads, that’s for sure.

—————————

After they finished cleaning, Marinette took the cookies out to cool.

“How long do we have to sit here waiting for them?” Adrien asked impatiently while staring at them intently, as if watching them would allow time to pass by faster.

“Just 5 more minutes I think you’ll live.” Marinette giggled. “Tell you what, once they’re done we can grab some milk, head upstairs, and play Ultimate Mecha Strike.”

His eyes lit up yet again with that childlike excitement.

Just then her parents walked in.

Adrien and Marinette turned to see Tom and Sabine with surprised looks on their faces.

“Marinette did you spill flour on your guest?” Sabine asked concerned.

————————

After explaining everything to her parents, Marinette grabbed the cookies and pulled Adrien along to escape with her. They picked up some milk and the apartment and climbed the ladder to her room.

“What time are you supposed to leave?” Marinette asked, pulling herself into her room and taking the milk and cookies from Adrien so he could do the same.

“In about 30 minutes, so we’d better make good use of our time. Specifically by eating those cookies. If the dough is anything to go by, these are going to taste amazing.”

“Well next time you come we can make some macaroons.” She suggested, hoping there’d be a next time.

“Sounds good. Now lets hurry io and eat these, the anticipation is killing me.”

They both laughed and picked up a cookie. They took large bites before sighing.

“So much better than the brownies.” Marinette said with a mouth full of cookie.

“I’d be offended, but I tried them too so I’ll definitely agree. My baking doesn’t even hold a candle to yours.” Adrien took a gulp of milk to wash down the cookie.

“Hey we made this together.” Marinette nudged his shoulder. “This is our baking Adrien, and I think it tastes amazing.”

For the next half hour Marinette kicked Adrien’s butt at Ultimate Mecha Strike as they stuffed themselves with cookies and milk.

When his driver finally arrived, Marinette walked him down.

“Here.” She said while handing him a tupperware. “Think of it as me returning the favor.”

Adrien opened it and was met with the sweet aroma of the cookies.

“Thank you Marinette! Today was amazing I’m glad you invited me. I can’t wait until we make the Macaroons!” He gave her a tight hug before climbing into his car with a wave.

“I can’t either.” Marinette whispered to herself in a lovesick daze.

@adrinetteapril

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radramblog · 3 years

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nuzlocke competitions

I’ve been involving myself in a multitude of what I can only describe as Nuzlocke Competitions as of late. It’s a combination of giving myself direction as to which games to play and what rulesets to run, ensuring I take the runs seriously and better my skill, get some pride points, and actually have people to talk about runs with. Because I don’t really know anyone IRL who’s as into running Nuzlockes as I am.

There’s little nuances between each that make them all interesting, and that’s what I’m going to describe, I guess.

Universal Communitylocke (UCL)

The first one I joined, and the only one that isn’t so much a competition as a challenge, the UCL is as simple as it gets, and about as lengthy as you want it to be. The challenge: pick one Nuzlocke ruleset, and run every single region with it. Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh, Unova, Kalos, Alola, and now Galar. If you don’t have access to later gens (seeing as while GBA and DS emulation is easy, 3DS and Switch is less so), you can do a truncated list if you want, but you have a year to do it from when you sign up. That last bit actually changed for the currently running season 3, with everybody’s deadline being December 31, 2022.

I believe I’m one of the few people to have completed both seasons 1 and 2 of the UCL, having run a standard set for the first one (though doing the alternate, no-3DS mode) and an alphabetlocke for the second (in which your team’s nicknames are randomly generated and the first 6 alphabetically must be your team). This made season 2 much tougher than season 1, since I had to work around pretty much not getting to pick my team, and I deliberately ran the harder Third Version games (and B2W2/USUM), and it thoroughly put me off doing Alphabetlockes ever again, given the choice.

I’ve actually yet to sign up for Season 3, even 8 months after it started. It’s a combination of a lack of time restriction (though there is still a deadline), lack of motivation, and the UCL discord being, kinda dead this time around. I do plan on running it, though, considering I want that Triple Senpai title. Since there’s less of a competitive element, I can wholeheartedly recommend this one even to newcomers.

Nuzlocke World Cup (NWC)

The Nuzlocke World Cup is the first of these that is actually a competition, with teams and knockouts and the like. Eight teams of five, all named after one of the main series regions, compete in a double elimination tournament that tests both Nuzlocke skill and that of competitive Pokemon in general. Each round, 5 games are listed, and each team assigns one of their own to each game, head-to-head against the member of the opposing team playing that game- points are assigned based on death count in the run as well as through a battle between the final teams of each player. The runs (and games) get harder as the tournament progresses, and I’ve seen the general skill level- it’s fucking high.

The first season of this I was on the Unova Units. We went out round 2. It wasn’t great.

Season 2 had team captains draft 2 participants with the other 2 being randomly assigned, and so I found myself as the last pre-random pick added to the Johto Thundercats. And we’ve been utterly crushing it, with multiple near-flawless victories and not a single loss to our name. For reference, most of my runs in this have been deathless, and I’ve won 2 of the 3 Battles I had to do. We’re now in the semis, and I…haven’t gotten very far in the run yet because I’ve been doing other stuff. Oops.

Unlike UCL, NWC is both restrictive and has a massive average skill level, especially as teams get knocked out. But it’s been fun and rewarding, a confirmation that my skill is, in fact, pretty real.

Nuzlocke Premier League (NPL)

(this one wasn’t attached to the nuzforums so I don’t have a link)

An offshoot of the NWC, themed after the Premier League of Soccer. I think. Teams of four are in a similar tournament structure, however the ruleset completely changes each round, and everyone plays the same game every round. While only 3 players per team need to play each round (save the finals), there’s an additional rule: The coordination rule, in which no two players on a team can have the same Pokemon on their in-game team. This led to some difficult teambuilding, particularly with round 5 – Red and Blue with TMs banned meant that so many of the game’s very limited species pool were utterly unusable, and not that many Pokemon make it out of such a ruleset unharmed.

My team, the Opelucid Dreams, made it all the way to the semi-finals before falling. I kind of blame myself a little bit- after running the first 6 rounds in a row (partially due to a teammate being absent), I wasn’t involved in the final 3 as a result of uni, then exams, then just everyone starting before I’d looked at it. And we didn’t make it out of the BW2 Wedlocke alive. Still, I’m proud of our performance, and I imagine there’ll be a second season for me to join soon enough.

Nuzvivor: Johto

The final and most complicated run, themed completely around Survivor. The reality TV series. There’s tribes, there’s a confessional, there’s challenges, you name it. It’s actually really interesting. And hard to explain if you haven’t seen the show or know how it works.

I don’t have as much of a story to tell for this one, because it’s still early days. At time of writing, we’re going through the second immunity challenge, and my (Shio) tribe is likely to lose it. We’ve won both Reward challenges and the previous Immunity, though, so I’m fairly confident. Assuming I don’t get voted out this round, which would suck. There’s an actual social game to this, which is supremely awkward for me when the three people who have remotely similar time-zone to me are all on the other tribe.

This one I actually recommend being in the discord for, because from what I can tell watching this is actually super cool. Just don’t tell me anything if you do, that would be cheating.

#ramble #nuzlocke #nuzforums #pokemon

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ravenbrenna09 · 4 years

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When Isak is Also Even

This story is partially based on this post and here’s AO3 Link

...

Since wtfock season 3 has ended, I dived further into the lore and mythos of the Skam universe. Skam was a fandom that I always followed (when it was trending) but it was really Robbe and his season that fully brought me into it. Now, I’m in the midst of watching through Skam NL—I’m at the very beginning of episode 5—and I’m planning on watching España later on because I just love all that I’ve seen with the girl squad.

But, Lucas always surprised me as a character—but especially as an Isak because he always seemed to have Even-like traits. From what I’ve seen, he’s primarily headcanoned to go on and study art. Because of this, I decided to play around with the idea that he has equal traits of the two.

Because of this, I wanted to explore the idea that our “Isak” is given the storyline that Even normally represents especially given that Lucas’s own mother is bipolar as well. But, I did write Lucas as closeted as the other Isaks typically are at the beginning of their season—maybe more so?—so that is something to note. Now, of course, this is all fun and it’s just something that I wanted to explore—especially in a one shot.

but, this is also my birthday gift for @peaceoutofthepieces (who is currently still sleeping rn) and it’s basically midnight for me SO THAT MEANS IT’S OFFICIALLY YOUR BIRTHDAY. HAPPY BIRTHDAY NATALIE AND I HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY.

It’s really short (about a length of a clip of Jij Verliest) but I wish it was so much longer but I couldn’t manage it. I hope you enjoy it <3

…

The second that an Even sees their Isak is when their story starts changing, for the better, and life goes on to form something more precious than it was before.

But, this story is different.

Lucas van der Heijden is an Isak—technically, in someone else’s story—but he moved to Antwerp to get away from his father who tried to control his life and breathe down his neck about his medication. His mother had encouraged him to do so—to try new things—and with the Academy sending him an acceptance letter, it seemed so perfect, to go live in his cousin’s spare bedroom and get away from his father. So, because of this, Lucas van der Heijden is also an Even—technically.

One day, in the midst of it all, Lucas spots someone who instantly has his attention. Because Lucas is technically an Even—as much as he is an Isak, the person in his sight is his Isak, in every sense of the word. But, his “Isak” also happens to be another’s “Jonas.”

...

Lucas van der Heijden

Standing in front of the classroom, his photography teacher, Mr. Maes, a recent graduate from the Academy who returned to teach, lectured on and on about the various lighting techniques and what they tell the viewer. Mr. Maes had his brown hair meticulously styled. Today, he decided to wear a long-sleeve black shirt that clung a little too tightly to his biceps and a pair of jeans that clung tightly to his hips. Despite Lucas’s interest in the class—photography was his favorite medium and this class was his favorite of the semester—his brain kept fading in and out of the lecture.

For whatever reason, his eyes kept returning to the curves of his muscles with a frustrating intensity. It was ridiculous that Lucas was getting distracted by something that didn’t interest him at all—outside of an artistic standpoint, of course—and he kept trying to force himself into the lecture. But, his brain also seemed to remind him of the text messages on his phones, the ones his father sent him as a botched attempt to bring him home despite his upcoming exam.

Dad: Come on Lucas. Your mother doesn’t understand.

Lucas: Really? She seemed fine when I called her. I have an art history exam next week that I have to study for. But I guess I don’t understand.

Dad: Lucas, that wasn’t what I meant.

Lucas: I know exactly what you meant.

Shoving away the thoughts of his father’s texts, Lucas’s eyes drifted back to Mr. Maes. Lucas was talking about lighter settings now, but his voice was growing increasingly muffled as the seconds stretched on. Lucas could feel his mind working, mentally sketching the scene in front of him—Mr. Maes enthusiastically talking about the various types of lighting. Normally, Lucas was always attentive during this class—as mentioned previously, it was his favorite class—but his mind continuing to wander was frustrating, to say the least.

His dad had to message him before his class, didn’t he?

There was a tap on his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts. Glancing around the room, Lucas realized that their class had been dismissed and Mr. Maes was conversing with several students who lingered. Lucas felt his cheeks flush, his thoughts returning to his head, as he tried to shove them away.

Eager for a distraction, Lucas turned to the person who broke him from his trance. His classmate, and friend of about a month, was standing beside him with his leather jacket thrown over his shoulder. Sander Driesen was shorter than Lucas with short brown hair that was growing out. He always wore some sort of graphic t-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans and Doc Martens. His Instagram was covered with pictures of him with bleach-blond hair—something that Sander insisted was returning as soon as his hair grew out again.

While they had bonded in the classroom, Lucas had met Sander two weeks before the semester starting… at their therapist’s office. Once they found out that they went to the same college—and found out they shared a class, they had become close. Sander was taking the class as an elective, but they still collaborated when given the chance. Sander knew about Lucas’s father and the spiral that ended with his diagnosis and his grief over leaving his mother. Lucas knew about Sander’s fascination for spray painting and his diagnosis at the age of sixteen and his artistic muse—his boyfriend who had hair that curled when it was too long.

A week ago, Lucas learned from his new roommate, Zoë, that Robbe, Sander’s boyfriend, had his room last autumn—but Lucas still hadn’t gotten the chance to physically meet him. Even though Sander had shown him every picture that he had of Robbe.

Sander stepped out of his way to let Lucas out and they slipped past their professor, who didn’t seem to notice Lucas’s absent mind. But, Sander did, asking as they headed out of the college, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Lucas said, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s just my dad being an ass, trying to get me to come home because my mom doesn’t ‘understand’ or whatever.” Sander scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I called her and told her that it was because of my Art History test next Wednesday.”

“Yeah, those Art History tests can be brutal,” Sander admitted.

“Thanks for the support.”

“You’re welcome.”

As they stepped outside of the building, the sunlight shined down upon them. On most days, the sun was energizing and bright. But, today, it felt daunting and tiring to Lucas. It might’ve been his text messages with his father, but the fact he got little sleep wasn’t helping matters. His cousin was… loud and Lucas didn’t have noise-canceling headphones like Zoë had acquired. Before Sander stepped away, Lucas asked, “What are your plans for the day?”

“Robbe and I are going out to dinner with some of his friends,” Sander said. “What about you? Did you want to come?”

“No, thank you though. I can’t today. I’m going to buy noise-canceling headphones and study some more for that brutal Art History test,” Lucas said.

“Milan?” Sander asked, grimacing. Lucas fervently nodded his head and Sander chuckled. “Maybe, one of these days, you can get him back someday.”

“I doubt it,” Lucas said. There was a flash of movement over Sander’s shoulder and Lucas’s eyes found it immediately. A person was running in their direction—or more specifically at them—with curly brown hair and a face that Lucas knew intimately for someone he never physically met. Before Lucas could even form a warning to Sander, Robbe was jumping onto his friend’s back. The force had nearly knocked Sander over and Lucas moved to help

Sander quickly found his balance, gripping onto Robbe’s thighs like a lifeline to keep him stable. The leather jacket that Sander held in his hand had hit the pavement and Lucas bent down to pick it up. His boyfriend’s legs were wrapped tightly around his waist and his arms bound around his shoulders. As Robbe pressed kisses against his boyfriend’s cheek, Sander exhaled, relaxing, “For fuck’s sake, baby, don’t do that.”

“Sorry,” Robbe said, giggling with a wide grin on his face. Sander reached out his hand to Lucas, making a grabbing motion for the leather jacket, and he handed it over without hesitation. As if noticing Lucas for the first time, Robbe glanced over at Lucas. “Oh, you must be Lucas, right? I’m Robbe.”

Lucas chuckled, glancing at Sander. “Yeah, I know who you are.”

“What do you mean?” Robbe asked. “I’ve never met—” There was a look of realization on his face and his cheeks flushed instant. Immediately, Robbe turned shy, burying his face in the crook of Sander’s neck. Lucas was barely able to hear a muffled, “That’s so embarrassing.”

Sander chuckled. “Don’t worry, I only showed him the PG sketches.”

Robbe pulled himself from Sander’s neck to say. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?!”

“Woah,” Lucas said. He waved his arms as though he could somehow block out the newfound information tainting his mind. He covered his ears and took a step back away from the couple. “That’s too much information.” Still holding Robbe on his back, Sander nearly doubled over in laughter and Robbe gripped onto him tighter. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sander. If I can even look you in the eye anymore.”

“You’ll understand one day,” Sander said, moving in the way Robbe had come. He lifted Robbe a little higher on his back as they walked away. “Goodbye, Lucas! I hope your dad stops being an ass and you study for your test!”

“Thanks,” Lucas said. “I’ll do my best. Nice to officially meet you, Robbe!”

“You too!”

Sander turned away, taking Robbe with him. Lucas watched the happy couple moved away from the school intertwined and holding onto each other. Robbe was still high on Sander’s back, clinging to him like a koala, and his face buried into Sander’s neck. The two of them looked so happy and proud, intertwined with one another so easily and simply. Lucas felt a sense of longing flash briefly in his chest as he watched their retreating forms.

Lucas moved in the opposite direction. His mind was already marking the path to the video store to buy a pair of the best noise-canceling headphones. As he pivoted to leave, his eyes caught sight of Sander and Robbe with someone else and—for whatever reason—Lucas halted to a stop without having gone too far away from his original destination.

There was a tall guy was walking up to Sander and Robbe. Behind him, two guys were chatting loudly but Lucas couldn’t hear him—and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the guy in the center. The guy in question was taller than all of his friends, but his shoulders were slumped a little. Even though he had a maroon hoodie over his head, Lucas could tell that his hair was a jet black. Lucas could see his sharp jaw and the upturn of his lips as he teased Sander and Robbe.

He was beau—

Lucas cut off his thoughts, abruptly turning around.

Lucas’s brain was screaming at him to turn around, to make up some excuse as to why he can join, simply to find out the name of the beau—no, the man there. But, Lucas knew that he couldn’t. It wouldn’t make any sense for him to change his mind now. Forcing one foot to move in front of the other, forcing himself away from the guy that had captured his attention, Lucas swallowed deeply as he tried to keep his thoughts even.

Lucas had never been like that before.

It wouldn’t make sense for him to be like that now.

But, as he turned the corner, Lucas snuck a glance back to him—just to see the guy smile dazzlingly at Robbe and Sander.

...

Note: There was supposed to be a second part of this from Jens’ POV a few weeks later where Jens would actually meet him, but I wasn’t able to get it on time. I hope you enjoy this section and maybe I’ll do Jens’ POV after Jij Verliest ends?

#wtfock #skam nl #lucas van der heijden #jens stoffels #van der stoffels #vds #crackship #jens x lucas #lucas x jens #even!lucas #i just had a lot of fun playing with the role switches here lol #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #lucas and sander friendship rise #i felt like it would be such an amazing friendship #but i can dream #long post

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teabooksandsweets · 4 years

Text

All Creatures Great and Small

🎼 All things bright and beautiful // all creatures great and small // all things wise and wonderful // the Lord God made them all 🎵 are the first lines of a well-known hymn and particular childrens’ favourite, and—not quite in this order—the American titles of James Herriot’s famous (and brilliant) books, thanks to an idea of his daughter Rosie.

All Creatures Great and Small is also the title of the popular BBC series the books were adapted into. The series ran for seven seasons and three specials, over thre course of thirteen years, with little breaks in between.

It’s the loveliest thing, and I recommend it frequently. And I recommend it right here, right now, in this very post.

It’s a period piece based on books based on real life, with just the right balance of comedy and drama. It’s set in the Yorkshire Dales, that sublime country, as the series calls it, and there’s animals of all sizes, everywhere, all about the show. The cast is splendid, absolutely splendid, all of them, and some worked closely with the real people their characters are (sometimes only loosely) based on.

It’s a show about veterinarians, Alf Wight, the real James Herriot, who wrote the books was a veterinarian. There were always veterinarians on the set, who found the cases treated either by them, or sometimes, under their instructions, by the actors, making the show extremely realistic—and very animal-friendly, because the BBC paid for all sick animals treated for the show, because of which one of the veterinary advisors always brought animals from people who couldn’t pay their veterinary bills to the set, even if they never appeared in the show, and treated them there, with the BBC having to pay.

I know that many people don’t like that the medical work is closely shown, and there are of course always the “arm up the cow” jokes made about it, but I have to say: it’s bluntly realistic, never concealing or censoring, but also never gory or deliberately gross. The characters do their work, and so do the real people behind the scenes; and the medical aspects are both scientifically correct and historically authentic.

The characters are all very, very fabulous, and pictured above is the Skeldale House family as it was in the first three seasons, including the five dogs.

There’s James Herriot, the newly qualified (and adorably awkward) vet from Scotland, who just got his first job in Yorkshire, where he’s got to prove his competence; played by Christopher Timothy.

his boss (and later partner) Siegfried Farnon, who is as capricious and eccentric as he is kind and generous; played by Robert Hardy (with his own whippet Christie on his lap).

Siegfried’s younger brother Tristan, a darling rascal who spends most of the early seasons failing exams and getting drunk; played by Peter Davison.

Mrs Edna Hall, the housekeeper (and secret head of the family) whom everyone loves, and who sadly only appears in the first three seasons, because of the passing of her wonderful actress Mary Hignett.

Helen Herriot, née Alderson, James beloved wife, a farmer’s daughter who always helps out in the surgery; played by Carol Drinkwater in the first three seasons and first two specials.

James, Siegfried, and Tristan appear throughout the whole show, with Tristan sometimes being absent; Helen, too, though she is played by Lynda Bellingham from season four on. James and Helen also get two children called Jimmy and Rosie; Siegfried, too, marries and has children, and Tristan, finally qualified, is often away for work.

Seasons four and five (and the beginning of season six) also feature the Scottish veterinarian Calum Buchanan, played by John McGlynn, who’s got a liking for all wild creatures, and even keeps a badger for some time, and Deirdre McEwan, a very diligent young woman who works for the Ministry of Agriculture, and whom Calum eventually marries.

And of course, there is, throughout the entire course of the show, the brilliant Mrs Pumphrey (played by the incredible Margeretta Scott), whose dog Tricki-Woo suffers from an unfortunate condition called Flop-Bot. She also keeps a pig called Nugent (after her uncle, who looked just like him!) and has a very grumpy gardener called Hotchkin (played by Teddy Turner). Mrs Pumphrey herself is a reason to watch this show.

And of course, there’s occassional appearances of Granville Bennet (James Grout), a a small animal specialist who always persuades James to drink too much, and his beautiful wife Zoe (Pamerla Salem).

The supporting cast is fabulous too, reaching from grumpy farmers who never pay their bills, to sensitive owners of small pets, and from poor people whose existance depends on their animals to the rich and aristocratic who may or may not be really happy with their lives.

The first three seasons are set in the late thirtes, and ending with the beginning of World War II. The first two Christmas specials take place just after the end of the war, and the last four seasons and third special showcase the beginning of a new time, the early fifties.

The show is sometimes sad. Because it’s about veterinarians, and they can’t save all their patients. Because many farmers are very poor and many pet owners emotionally vulnerable. Because it takes place around a terrible war.

But it’s such a happy show. It’s so hopeful, and so warm, so cosy, and so humorous and witty. The scripts, especially of the first three seasons, are absolutely brilliant, and the later ones are also very, very good. The acting is fabulous, the actors are fabulous, and so is their unique influence on the making of the show, their relationships to each other, and to the people they partly portayed.

And of course, it’s beautiful. It’s not a period drama of a very stylised sort; it’s made with costumes and scenery made to look as they did in the time and place, and to fit the characters and context. The overall look is very warm, with much of brown and green, and the background is incredibly green—because it’s the Yorkshire Dales, all around, everywhere. Endless hills and moors, narrow walls, small streams.

And of course, it has the very theme music. It’s such a lovely tune, and it’s absolutely iconic. A classic. It’s lovely.

Long story short: Watch All Creatures Great and Small —it’s brilliant!

(On another note, I also really recommend the books. This post is not about them, but they are amazing!)

#all creatures great and small #period drama #tv recommendations #show recommendations

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somedayonbroadway · 4 years

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I am literally begging you to tell me about the Psych AU???

(Just to be clear this will be set in the fantasy land where all cops are trying their best to be good all the time. Thank you!)

So Psych was actually probably my favorite show for a lot of my life so I am pretty excited about this one. For those of you that haven’t seen the show, go watch it. It’s on Peacock and I believe it’s still on Amazon Prime. Definitely it’s at its best in the first three seasons, but it never ceases to be funny. However, I enjoy the first season a lot more because of how smart they portray Shawn without having him also be, for lack of a better word, an idiot. Shawn is incredibly smart and his humor and charisma highlighted that instead of hiding it and I miss that in the later seasons, but it is still a really funny show and I do recommend it.

Anyways, enough of me ranting.

Just to be clear, it could work with either Jack or Race as Shawn, and if you would like to see this AU the other way, just let me know!

Psych AU

Characters

Racetrack Higgins — Shawn Spencer

Albert DaSilva — Burton Guster

Jack Kelly — Henry Spencer

Spot Conlon — Juliet O’Hara

David Jacobs — Carlton Lassiter

Medda Larkin — Chief Karen Vick

Racetrack Higgins (Shawn Spencer)

Tyler James Kelly had never had an easy life, with his drunk father or absent mother who had him on accident with a man she barely knew

His father had named him Anthony Higgins

When he’s six all of that changes when his half brother takes him in, against his father’s wishes.

Jack renames him Tyler James Kelly.

Race didn’t know Jack all too well back then. But he looked up to him, even if he’d refuse to admit it later.

Jack is eighteen and just starting out as a beat cop. But Jack’s father had been training him to be a good cop his whole life. Right up till he died.

Race never knew what a parent was supposed to look like. So when Jack began to test and train him, he didn’t think anything of it.

Race has a eidetic memory and Jack knows it even if his baby brother refuses to acknowledge it

The kid is hyper observant and quick witted which often can lead him into trouble though he describes it as being useful stay one step ahead intellectually while being one step behind physically

Was born two months too early and has always been pretty thin and small

Loves classic movies and television shows and often references them

Is wickedly smart and clever, resulting in him graduating high school three years early and leaving New York to travel the country

Growing up he’s best friends with his next door neighbor, Albert DaSilva, who he relies on constantly as he has a fear of abandonment

While growing up with Jack, Race finds himself somewhat resenting his brother who constantly pushes him to be more and do more and get better. He explains that Jack never let him just be a kid, and never lets Jack explain why he has him memorize how many hats are in the room and learn how killers and criminals operate

When he’s fifteen he takes the detective’s exam and gets a perfect score but refuses to go into law enforcement, instead chooses to leave Jack behind, illegally, and travel around the country on a bike he wins in a poker game with a bunch of old men who think he’s no threat.

When he’s eighteen, he inevitably ends up back in Manhattan.

After not speaking with Jack for three years, he has no idea if he’s still even there and is terrified to face him, feeling bad about running away and not knowing if Jack will forgive him.

He gets his own apartment, taking odd jobs around town to make ends meet

He starts going by Anthony Higgins again, but most of his friends just call him Race, a nickname he got from Albert when they were very young

Albert is the only one who knows when Race is back in town and Race makes him swear not to tell Jack.

Race often spends his nights watching the news, calling in tips to the police whenever he figures out a crime that they can’t.

Eventually this leads him to getting arrested before he even turns nineteen, as the police suspect he’s an inside man

In order to get out of this, he tells a lie that he believes will be a one time thing.

He makes the cops believe he is psychic.

Things spiral out of control from there.

After making the majority of the station believe he has the gift (all except for one skeptic who happens to be head detective) he thinks they’re going to let him off the hook.

He has no idea the chief of police is going to ask for his help

Actually excited by the idea, Race runs to Albert’s school and begs him to help him out. Albert is reluctant at first but eventually agrees

Race and Al go out investigating as private detectives until Race figures out the case, leading them straight to the suspect who turns out to be dead.

With nowhere else to turn, Race goes back to his brother, a brilliant detective who got injured in the line of duty and retired early, for help

Jack isn’t even shocked to see him. He’s not surprised, he’s not happy and he’s not angry. It makes Race mad.

Jack takes Race out to lunch where he lets Race talk and tells him that he’s the ultimate disappointment because Jack told Race all growing up how much he hated private detectives and psychics. But ultimately, he helps Race out anyway

This leads to Race solving the case and getting recognition for it. Jack keeps his secret and is even secretly proud of him

The happiness he feels at that convinces Race to open up his own agency with Albert

Throughout their journey as detectives, Race ends up falling for a junior detective, a transfer from Brooklyn who is a partner to the skeptic head detective, David Jacob, his brother’s former partner and best friend.

Spot, the Junior detective, often flirts with Race and leads him on, but they don’t start a relationship until five years later.

Race is faced with countless situations where he becomes a target for serial killers and criminals who come after his and his friends and family.

Race gets shot and kidnapped at one point.

He and Albert get held captive constantly and The Yin Yang killer, a serial killer who had been messing with the department for years, takes a special interest in him, causing his current boyfriend to be nearly drowned, Spot to be nearly dropped from a clock tower, Jack to be nearly blown up and he and Albert to be nearly poisoned.

Despite only telling this lie to get out of going to jail for a crime he did not commit, he ends up sticking with it and finding his purpose in life was to help others instead of help himself and loves it

Albert DaSilva (Bruton Gaster)

Grows up with a good life.

His mother died when he was really young, not even a year old, and he lived with his father and two much older brothers who spoiled him and loved him.

Albert was always smart. He was always smart in different ways than Race was and enjoyed learning and gaining better understandings of things

When he was young, he wanted to become an astronomer. He always loved the planets and the stars.

While being academically advanced, he knew that graduating with Race was not the best option for him as he used to doubt himself when Race wasn’t around to tell him how much he needed him

As a child he applied for a school for advanced students, which he was accepted into. His father refused to send him on account of wanting him to be a kid which Albert never truly liked being

His father never did appreciate the influence that Race had on his son, but allowed it in order to let Albert be a kid because he knew Albert needed it

Albert loved academic activities growing up and had nearly won a national spelling bee that Race botched for him. After learning this, Albert is angry with Race and realizes his friend’s need for him as Race eventually admits he was scared his only friend was going to leave him

Albert is very independent and enjoys doing things on his own, much to Race’s dismay

Al was voted most likely to succeed in high school

When Race runs away, Albert knows about it and tries to stop him, but believes Race will get nervous and come back

When that doesn’t happen, Albert is too embarrassed and scared to tell anyone so he lets Race go, feeling abandonment for the first and possibly only time in his life and he’s always secretly a little angry with Race for leaving

Albert goes to college right out of high school and studied medicine, wanting to become a doctor

When Race comes back into town, he ends up missing a lot of classes and barely manages to stay ahead in school

He still works towards becoming a doctor, which often helps with solving crimes

After finding out he does not like the sight of blood and dead bodies, he switches to forensics which also helps with a lot of investigations

Albert’s oldest brother is a rocket scientist at NASA and his other brother is an engineer

He constantly feels as though he’s trying to catch up and be just as accomplished as his brothers

Albert was pep captain in high school in attempts to be popular. While he did have more friends than Race, he didn’t accomplish actually being popular, but hanging around so many girls turned him into somewhat of a ladies man

During his senior year spring break, Albert, who’s already eighteen, heads down to Mexico with some friends but ends up meeting a girl. He gets drunk and marries her before leaving and never speaking of it again, not seeing the girl until years later when she is getting remarried.

After helping Race on his first case, Albert finds he had a knack for assisting his friend in crime fighting and, though often gives Race a hard time about it and complains, genuinely enjoys helping

Is very protective of his car that his father pays for, affectionately named the Blueberry by Race who picks up the name from a stuck up client

Albert knows Race better than Race knows himself and is sometimes the only thing actually keeping him from chaotically causing his own accidental death, despite Jack’s best efforts.

He has a very refined sense of smell

Grew up catholic and believes in demonic possessions and exorcisms

In an attempt to be cool when he was younger, Albert learned how to pick locks and crack safes

Is often given ridiculous nicknames by his best friend while they’re out solving cases, just for fun. He just rolls with them typically.

He joined an a capella group in college because he knew how to sing and was curious as to what it would be like. Race always finds it entertaining.

Is an experienced tap dancer

Has trouble doing things that are more on the dangerous side while Race doesn’t mind jumping in head first just to see what will happen.

Albert’s father is very protective of him and, even when he’s being accused of murder, tries to constantly give Race money and have someone babysit and take care of him.

It isn’t until Race sets the record straight that Albert’s dad begins to trust him to take care of Al moving forward.

Albert is the only person Jack trusts with Race for a long time as Race had a history with bullies all growing up and never really wanted any other friends.

Albert becomes like another little brother to Jack and Jack teaches him some street smarts to get him by after Race runs away.

Albert helps take care of Jack after his career ending injury

Albert eventually becomes a forensic scientist and ends up working for the FBI

Jack Kelly (Henry Spencer)

A trouble maker when he was young, the only child of his father, James Francis Kelly Sr. and first born of his mother

When Jack is fifteen his father dies, murdered by a criminal who’d been out on a killing spree.

His father had always wanted Jack to follow in his footsteps and become an officer so, to honor him, Jack does

When Jack was twelve, his mother had had another baby. Jack did not know a lot about this, but after his father died, became very curious.

When asked about the baby, his mother got defensive, so he tracked the kid down on his own, finding him in a neglective home and immediately falling in love with the kid and wanting to protect him.

Although he often shows Race tough love, he genuinely makes it his life goal to keep the boy safe and protected

He renamed Anthony Higgins, Tyler James Kelly, because Anthony was originally named after his father, the man who almost never acknowledged that the kid existed and Jack didn’t want him walking around with that.

Even after Race starts introducing himself as Anthony again, he still calls Race Tyler and Tyler James and his little Tyler James because that’s still Race’s legal name

Jack is a bit of a troubled kid growing up.

He has ADHD

His father helped him channel that into being hyper observant and alert

His mother was a bit of a deadbeat, but Jack still loved her up until she died from lung cancer. He didn’t trust her to look after Race once, instead hiring experienced babysitters and sometimes even taking Race into work with him and having another officer watch him

When he first meets Race, he quickly picks up on the fact that the kid is special and had extraordinary talents and he wants to help Race use them in the best way

Jack is a very protective person, though he normally comes off as slightly intimidating stand-off-ish. He is genuinely friendly and actually is the inspiration behind Race’s sense of humor

Jack raises Race to be the perfect detective, believing he was doing this for Race’s own good as Jack himself is terrified of losing someone else, especially his baby boy who he finds he loves more than anyone else in the world.

While Jack was a bit of a prankster and a fighter growing up, his father explained to him that this was a good thing and would help Jack in the future as he knew how criminals could think

Jack is an artist and loves to paint and draw. It’s his most peaceful activity

He once arrested Race when he was fifteen for “borrowing” a car to impress a girl with Race later reveals he only did to keep the football team from finding out that he was gay

He moves up in the police force quickly, becoming the youngest head detective the department had

He is partnered with David Jacobs who quickly becomes his best friend and eventually replaced Jack as the head detective.

When Race runs away Jack is extremely hurt and goes through a small depression that ultimately makes him lose his focus and gets him into a bad car crash, ending his career as a detective

His knee is shattered and he can’t run as easily as he used to be able to.

Refuses help most of the time and locks himself away from the world until Albert comes knocking on his door

He lets the kid help him out

It is eventually revealed that Jack put a gps tracker in the dog tags that had been his father’s. He’d given them to Race because he convinced the kid they’d keep him safe. He knows where Race is at all times

This is why he’s not surprised when Race is back in town and this is how Jack continues to be able to find Race when Race is in trouble.

When Race is shot and kidnapped, his drops the dog tags and Jack panics because he’s never not been able to find Race and when he does eventually find him, he puts the dog tags back around his neck and yells at Race to never take them off again

That’s when Race finds out what Jack did

Jack is Race’s biggest critic and biggest supporter all rolled up into one

While he never truly approves of what Race is doing, he still does his best to help him and protect him as best he can and is always proud of him no matter what he does.

During his time in recovery, Jack sells paints and works on commission, starting his own arti website and becoming a fairly famous artist

When the Yin Yang killer returns to New York, it is revealed that Jack worked the case before but had not been the target of the serial killer.

He is kidnapped by Yang who knows somehow that he’d be unable to run and slightly traumatized him, placing him in a car at a drive in movie with a bomb in his lap

Though he tries to convince everyone that he’s not scared, Race ends up staying with him to comfort him through the nightmares.

After Yin and Yang strikes again, making it even clearer that it’s Racer he’s messing with, Jack accepts a job from the chief of police as a police liaison in attempts to keep Race safe

A few years later, another old case of his comes up and he realizes that the cops who trained him and worked with him were dirty and tampered with his evidence.

He is later shot point blank by one of his old partners and left for dead, but Race, who had followed him, manages to take him to a hospital, saving his life though it was a very close call

After all of this, Jack eventually retires from the police department, no longer respecting the badge as he’d used to and becomes a professor of criminology at the same college Albert attended where he meets Katherine, his future wife

Spot Conlon (Juliet O’Hara)

Sean “Spot” Conlon grew up being around cops a lot.

His father was a crook.

While he knew his father loved him, he also knew that his father was a conman and what he did was wrong.

Growing up, Spot would wake up to receive little gifts on his nightstand and eventually he figured out that his father had been breaking in to leave them for him, taking the window apart and putting it back together without a trace.

Spot loves his father but moves on and grows up to become a cop to stop people like his father from taking advantage of others

He has one older brother, Hot Shot, who is also a criminal, though he is a criminal in the name of the Army which he was trying to protect

Spot does have to arrest his brother but is not shocked to find that his brother escaped

Spot does have a younger brother, Charlie or Crutchie as he’s called by his brother, who he loves very much and tries to preserve as the kid is the only member of his family who is remotely innocent.

Crutchie eventually moves from Brooklyn to Manhattan to be closer to Spot and meets Spot’s friends who he adores.

Charlie is the one who reveals that Jack was one of Spot’s idols. Spot looked up to Jack because Jack was one of the youngest head detectives in the country and was an overall brilliant detective

Spot first meets Race while undercover. The conversation only lasts a few minutes before Race deducts that he is in fact a cop about to make a jump on someone.

Wary of Race at first, Spot keeps his distance. He is skeptical of Race’s “gift” buy after observing him behind to believe his abilities may be real

Upon his transfer to Manhattan to become a detective, Spot is partnered up with Jack Kelly’s old partner David, who is very stand-off-ish and mean at first

Spot and David begin to build a relationship based on trust and become like brothers after a long while

Originally, Spot is not taken very seriously as he’s very young and cares about how he looks. Many of the other cops make fun of him, calling him “pretty boy” and other derogatory names because they all know that he’s gay

David often sticks up for him but doesn’t let Spot thank him.

Spot eventually starts calling Race “pretty boy” as a means to give the words good meaning again

Spot is very good at going undercover for jobs and enjoys getting to be placed in different roles.

Race often tells him that if he hadn’t been a coo he would’ve been a hell of an actor but Spot doesn’t like that because he fears he’s becoming too much like his father

Spot is desperate to succeed in his work and often goes to Jack for advice (I know, they like each other in this one. It’s crazy)

Spot is very competitive and likes to be right.

He often brags about solving cases before others but does not put others down, necessarily, in the process

Though Spot is a bit on the shorter side, he makes up for it with muscle and strength.

When he gets angry, people back off, afraid of what he might do if he decides to take his anger out on them.

Spot is fluent in Spanish, just like Jack, and after Race and he start dating, they often have conversations about Race right in front of him.

After getting kidnapped by Yin, Spot is traumatized to the point of being unable to stay at the station.

He develops a paralyzing fear of heights that’s Race helps him through

Eventually, Spot becomes the head detective in Brooklyn when the chief is transferred there.

David Jacobs (Lassie Face)

David had always had a difficult time with trust

He grew up with a twin sister and a little brother.

His father cheated on their mother and his mother cheated on his father

His sister grew up and left without telling anyone.

His ex wife had cheated on him and left him

Suffice to say that trust didn’t come easy to him.

Growing up, Davey likes the rules and he likes enforcing them. He likes being in charge and he’s good at it.

David loves his younger brother a lot. Les is going to school for film and he loves getting insight about what police actually do. He likes to make documentaries

When David is partnered with the head detective, he’s shocked to find he actually likes Jack

Jack is the first person he truly trusts in a long long time

Jack becomes his best friend and only confidant

As he’s close with Jack, he does meet Race a few times, but when he questions Race about his tips under his old name, he doesn’t know why Race looks so familiar

It isn’t until David sees Race with Jack that he remembers.

Jack lies to David and tells him that Race is a psychic and found out when he was fifteen and that’s why he left even though he knows Davey won’t believe him

David understands and respects that Jack puts his little brother first

But the kid still annoys him

Despite not necessarily getting along with Race, David does everything he can to protect him as a ways to pay Jack back for all the times he’d saved his life

When Jack gets in his accident, David refuses another partner, nervous about not living up to Jack’s reputation.

His first new partner ends up being a girlfriend of his during his separation from his wife. Race outs the affair on accident and the woman is transferred

David and Spot don’t get along at first but Spot quickly shows David that he’s not any junior detective and is really good at what he does

He ends up really liking the kid

After Jack’s accident, David has a hard time going to see him, feeling as though he’d failed the other man somehow.

Eventually, he takes Jack out for a drink where Jack apologizes for screwing up and they have a bonding moment

Eventually, David finds himself infatuated with a suspect in a case he’s working

Though the girl is ultimately guilty, he visits her in prison and eventually marries her

His whole life all he’d wanted was to be the chief of police

Eventually, after Chief Larkin is transferred, his dream comes true.

He and Race manage to become friends and, after receiving a video message from Race, confessing to the fact that he’s not a psychic, he tears the disc out and breaks it, never needing to know how Race did what he did

I absolutely love this one, so if ya’ll wanna see any scenes from it, just let me know!

For more Mood Boards and AUs, click here!

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green-blooded · 5 years

Text

So, I want to talk about Bread and Circuses. Or, I want to talk about Spock and McCoy in Bread and Circuses... plus the rest of the first half of the second season, because this episode isn’t actually good aside from the Spock and McCoy moments.

We start with this:

SPOCK: Fascinating. This atmosphere is remarkably similar to your twentieth century. Moderately industrialized pollution containing substantial amounts of carbon monoxide and partially consumed hydrocarbons. MCCOY: The word was smog. SPOCK: Yes, I believe that was the term. I had no idea you were that much of a historian, Doctor. MCCOY: I am not, Mister Spock. I was simply trying to stop you from giving us a whole lecture on the subject. Jim, is there anything at all we know about this planet?

(This post got long--nearly 4000 words???--so here’s a cut to save your dashboard!)

Which is kind of an odd argument for them? McCoy gets on Spock for a lot of things, but not usually for talking too much. In fact, it’s usually the reverse. In Trouble with Tribbles (the previous episode by production order), they have this exchange:

MCCOY: Spock, I don't know too much about these little tribbles yet, but there's one thing that I have discovered. SPOCK: What is that, Doctor? MCCOY: I like them better than I like you. SPOCK: Doctor? MCCOY: Yes? SPOCK: They do have one redeeming characteristic. MCCOY: What's that? SPOCK: They do not talk too much. If you'll excuse me, sir.

Far be it from me to accuse Star Trek of having continuity, but don’t these arguments seem related? In fact, both of these episodes have had particularly heated arguments between Spock and McCoy for no apparent reason in the plot. There are also a few heated exchanges in The Deadly Years (about Spock’s health, and then Kirk’s dementia).

Put a pin in this. Let’s return to Bread and Circuses.

MCCOY: Odd that these people should worship the sun. SPOCK: Why, Doctor? MCCOY: Because, my dear Mister Spock, it is illogical. Rome had no sun worshipers. Why should they parallel Rome in every way except one?

Let’s just ignore the fact that yes Rome did have sun worshipers and that there have been a hell of a lot more than one discrepancy, because if we talk about inaccuracies we’ll be here all day. The point is, they’re both postulating about this odd ‘parallel’ Earth, but McCoy’s interjection seems to annoy Spock for some reason... To the point that he brings it up again later, but in the meantime, they also have this exchange:

SPOCK: Even more fascinating. Slavery evolving into an institution with guaranteed medical payments, old-age pensions. MCCOY: Quite logical, I'd say, Mister Spock. Just as it's logical that twentieth-century Rome would use television to show its gladiator contests or name a new car the Jupiter Eight. SPOCK: Doctor, if I were able to show emotion, your new infatuation with that term would begin to annoy me. MCCOY: What term? Logic? Medical men are trained in logic, Mister Spock. SPOCK: Really, Doctor, I had no idea they were trained. Watching you, I assumed it was trial and error.

Hey guys, remember an episode called Amok Time (only 9 episodes earlier in production order instead of a whole season apart), where McCoy said this:

MCCOY: My orders were to give you a thorough physical. In case you hadn't noticed, I have to answer to the same commanding officer that you do. Come on, Spock. Yield to the logic of the situation.

And it, y'know, worked to convince Spock to listen to him that time. BUT let's also look at I, Mudd where they have one of those curiously heated arguments again:

MCCOY: All right. There's something wrong about a man who never smiles, whose conversation never varies from the routine of the job, and who won't talk about his background. SPOCK: I see. MCCOY: Spock, I mean that it's odd for a non-Vulcan. The ears make all the difference. SPOCK: I find your argument strewn with gaping defects in logic. MCCOY: Maybe, but you can't evaluate a man by logic alone. Besides, he has avoided two appointments that I've made for his physical exam without reason. SPOCK: That's not at all surprising, Doctor. He's probably terrified of your beads and rattles.

(Notice, McCoy realizes he’s offended Spock and immediately tries to fix it, but Spock remains annoyed with him.)

A couple of things here. First, like in Trouble with Tribbles (the next episode), Spock seems actually offended by McCoy. This was almost entirely absent from the first season, and not particularly prevalent in the first few episodes of the second season. There was plenty of banter and teasing before, but Spock seems more sensitive to it in this middle section of the second season. Then, again, McCoy brings up logic. McCoy argues that logic can't be the only means to evaluate a person. Then, Spock insults McCoy's medical skills. AGAIN, this is a newer development that makes it into almost every episode in the middle of the second season, including I, Mudd, Trouble with Tribbles, and Bread and Circuses. All back-to-back episodes in production order!

So we have some things repeating in their arguments over multiple episodes. McCoy's interpretation of logic, Spock being offended by McCoy's teasing/insults, and Spock insulting McCoy's skill as a doctor. PUT A PIN IN IT. Returning to Bread and Circuses again.

MERIK: There's been no war here for over four hundred years, Jim. Could, let's say, your land of that same era make that same boast? I think you can see why they don't want to have their stability contaminated by dangerous ideas of other ways and other places. SPOCK: Interesting, and given a conservative empire, quite understandable. MCCOY: Are you out of your head? SPOCK: I said I understood it, Doctor. I find the checks and balances of this civilization quite illuminating. MCCOY: Next he'll be telling us he prefers it over Earth history. SPOCK: They do seem to have escaped the carnage of your first three world wars, Doctor. MCCOY: They have slavery, gladiatorial games, despotism. SPOCK: Situations quite familiar to the six million who died in your first world war, the eleven million who died in your second, the thirty seven million who died in your third. Shall I go on?

I think this is one of the better exchanges that speak to the themes of this episode, which they should’ve elaborated on but instead went the Jesus Saves route... Whatever. The important thing is that this is another example of their philosophical differences AND very similar to an argument they had in The Apple a few episodes ago.

SPOCK: In my view, a splendid example of reciprocity. MCCOY: It would take a computerized Vulcan mind such as yours to make that kind of a statement. SPOCK: Doctor, you insist on applying human standards to non-human cultures. I remind you that humans are only a tiny minority in this galaxy. MCCOY: There are certain absolutes, Mister Spock, and one of them is the right of humanoids to a free and unchained environment, the right to have conditions which permit growth. SPOCK: Another is their right to choose a system which seems to work for them. MCCOY: Jim, you're not just going to stand by and be blinded to what's going on here. These are humanoids, intelligent. They need to advance and grow. Don't you understand what my readings indicate? There's been no progress here in at least ten thousand years. This isn't life. It's stagnation. SPOCK: Doctor, these people are healthy and they are happy. What ever you choose to call it, this system works, despite your emotional reaction to it. MCCOY: It might work for you, Mister Spock, but it doesn't work for me. Humanoids living so they can service a hunk of tin.

It’s super interesting to me that Spock is using relativistic contract theory to judge these cultures while McCoy is just a straight up anarchist, let’s be real. He hates hierarchical structures and authority figures, and believes that they go against human nature. Which you might say is weird for a Starfleet officer, but he also yells at people above his rank constantly and gets really upset in episodes like The Doomsday Machine when Spock refuses to ignore rank. He’s in Starfleet because he wants to help people, but I can’t imagine him staying if his captain weren’t someone he totally trusts. I mean, you could forget that McCoy has any rank at all with the way he carries himself. Meanwhile, Spock is Very, Very strict in his understanding of hierarchy and rank.

This is one of those deep divisions between the two of them. Put a pin in it. Let’s move on to the gladiator fight.

SPOCK: Need any help, Doctor? MCCOY: Whatever gave you that idea? ACHILLES: Fight, you pointed-ear freak! MCCOY: You tell him, buster. Of all the completely ridiculous, illogical questions I ever heard in my life!

The fact that McCoy is not a fighter is really brought out in this episode, and I have a lot to say about it in another post. The main thing here is McCoy bringing up logic again and agreeing with an argument that is, in my opinon, a step beyond something that McCoy would actually say. He makes fun of the ears, but freak is a little far, I think.

And all of this leads to the Big Scene in the prison, which I will break into parts. Part #1:

MCCOY: Angry, Mister Spock, or frustrated, perhaps? SPOCK: Such emotions are foreign to me, Doctor. I'm merely testing the strength of the door. MCCOY: For the fifteenth time...

McCoy is lightly teasing Spock for being more emotional than he lets on, while Spock denies having any emotion at all... this is a pretty typical part of the exchange. What really makes it work is Deforest Kelly's delivery. He says these lines with a degree of affection. He's not yelling, and he's not even using the tone he usually has when teasing Spock. In this moment, you can see that McCoy points out Spock's incongruous moments of emotion because he likes that about him. While it sometimes comes across as a 'gotcha' moment (like at the end of The Galileo Seven), the sheer number of times McCoy mentions Spock's emotions shows more than just a passing amount of interest in them.

Then, McCoy continues:

MCCOY: Spock, I know we've had our disagreements. Maybe they're jokes. I don't know. As Jim says, we're not often sure ourselves sometimes, but what I'm trying to say is-- SPOCK: Doctor, I am seeking a means of escape. Will you please be brief? MCCOY: Well, what I'm trying to say is you saved my life in the arena. SPOCK: Yes, that's quite true. MCCOY: I'm trying to thank you, you pointed-eared hobgoblin!

Before I talk about this, I need to take a moment. I think that McCoy often gets painted at someone with his heart on his sleeve, who feels a lot and expresses all of his feelings. And it's just not true! He's very expressive when it comes to some things, sure. He can yell all day about how much he cares about people in general, but when it comes to expressing how much he cares about an individual? It's pretty damn rare. Look at his words AND his body language in Balance of Terror when he has a vulnerable moment with Kirk.

KIRK: I look around that Bridge, and I see the men waiting for me to make the next move. And Bones, what if I'm wrong? MCCOY: Captain, I-- KIRK: No, I don't really expect an answer. MCCOY: But I've got one. Something I seldom say to a customer, Jim. In this galaxy, there's a mathematical probability of three million Earth-type planets. And in all of the universe, three million million galaxies like this. And in all of that, and perhaps more, only one of each of us. Don't destroy the one named Kirk.

McCoy himself says here that he doesn't usually say this kind of thing, and if you look at the series, that bears out. He does NOT find it easy to tell people he cares about them, and when he does, he does it in this abstract way, barely able to make any eye contact. This is AGAIN why the conflict between Spock and McCoy is NOT logic vs. emotion. McCoy is not fully emotional, and he doesn't find emotion easy to express. I would argue that he has almost as much difficulty expressing his feelings for another person as Spock does. I would also argue that McCoy does not LIKE this about himself, and that is part of why it frustrates him so much when he sees it in Spock.

So, when he tries to be vulnerable and thank Spock, first of all, he doesn't just say "Hey, thanks for saving me in the arena." He starts with a lot of waffle, and when Spock interrupts him and insists that he keep it short (again, callback to the arguments in this episode and Trouble with Tribbles about which one of them talks too much), McCoy tries to simply thank him, but gets upset when Spock is still impassive and reverts to his usual way of talking to Spock. One remark from Spock, and McCoy loses his ability to be vulnerable and resorts to a sharp tone and insults. Leading into part three of this conversation:

SPOCK: Oh, yes. You humans have that emotional need to express gratitude. You're welcome, I believe, is the correct response. However, Doctor, you must remember I am entirely motivated by logic. The loss of our ship's surgeon, whatever I think of his skill, would mean a reduction in the efficiency of the Enterprise and therefore-- MCCOY: Do you know why you're not afraid to die, Spock? You're more afraid of living. Each day you stay alive is just one more day you might slip and let your human half peek out. That's it, isn't it? Insecurity. Why, you wouldn't know what to do with a genuine, warm, decent feeling. SPOCK: Really, Doctor? MCCOY: I know. I'm worried about Jim, too.

The last bit is powerful, and I think generally something people remember more than the rest of the conversation, but I really need to focus on that first exchange first, because there is a LOT going on, and I've been pinning things through this whole overly long post for this moment.

PIN 1: Their arguments have become more heated in the middle portion of season 2.

This is a very clear example of that. McCoy doesn't drop the issue after the insult and Spock insists he wouldn't have saved McCoy if he weren't logically useful to the ship. Ouch.

PIN 2: The repetition in these heated arguments. McCoy's view of logic, Spock getting offended, Spock insulting McCoy's skill as a doctor.

What Spock says here brings up all three of those issues. Spock has been frustrated by McCoy bringing up logic throughout this episode, and now he's shooting back at him with a logical view of why he saved McCoy's life--while still maintaining that he doesn't think McCoy is a good doctor. McCoy's been using logic against him, and now Spock is returning the favor. Spock understands Human interaction better than this! Something as simple as a "thank you" and "your welcome" is everyday for him, not only on the Enterprise but with one of the people who RAISED him. He is exaggerating his own non-Human qualities throughout this conversation to a truly absurd extent, because McCoy has repeatedly offended him for several episodes. However, McCoy seems unaware that his usual teasing has actually gotten under Spock's skin, because he has been surprised, again and again (especially in I, Mudd where he chases after Spock to apologize to him) when Spock actually acts hurt by him.

And then there's McCoy's response.

It's not "damn your Vulcan logic" or ending the conversation. He grabs Spock and forces him to look at him--which Spock has been avoiding throughout the conversation--and tells Spock that he's so afraid to be human that he doesn't fear death, because that would put an end to the fear that his Human side would show.

IF WE ARE ONLY LOOKING AT THIS ONE EPISODE, this doesn't make sense. This didn't build from the conversations in Bread and Circuses, which is why I keep bringing up several different episodes and why I'm insisting on production order.

PIN 3: These two have deep, deep philosophical differences that they are constantly discussing.

As I said in another post, Spock and McCoy have a different standard for morality which causes the two of them to butt heads a whole lot. In the first season, it was pretty much the same argument over and over again (should we risk a larger number of people to save a smaller number of people), but it's been evolving in this season to the discussion of freedom and cultural differences and more.

If these two men did not have any respect for one another, I don't think these arguments would continue. Yes, they work together, but they don't actually need to interact as much as they do, and they are VERY often seeing walking into a scene on the bridge together or walking down a corridor together, etc. It's not just missions. They choose to spend time together.

So, when Spock says he only saved McCoy because he's useful as the ship's surgeon, McCoy doesn't respond to THAT, because 1) he knows he's a good doctor and never seems fazed by Spock insulting him about that and 2) he knows Spock is not being honest with him here.

This is one of the reasons why I think McCoy gets frustrated with Spock because they have a similar difficulty showing how much they care about other people, and they have an especially difficult time showing affection toward one another.

While the ending of Operation: Annihilate! where McCoy tells Kirk not to tell Spock he called him the best first officer in the fleet is memorable, it's hardly the most vulnerable moment for McCoy in that episode. No, it's when he thinks he's blinded Spock because he didn't consider using the non-visible parts of the light spectrum to kill the parasitic aliens. McCoy can't even say for himself the deep guilt he's feeling about harming Spock--he never says that he's blaming himself. It's Kirk who tells him he's not at fault, and McCoy can't even bring himself to respond. If you look at those last lines about Spock being the best first officer in the fleet in context of how devastated McCoy was when he thought he'd blinded Spock permanently, it definitely hits different, right?

And then there are the times in the first season when Spock believes McCoy is badly hurt or dead. In Miri, Shore Leave, and City on the Edge of Forever, Spock has a strong reaction to seeing McCoy injured, but he does not verbalize this obvious emotional reaction at any time.

They don't know how to say that they care about each other, because that's something they both struggle with in general. They also both struggle with being emotionally vulnerable and allowing other people to know them on a deeper level. Spock uses his Vulcan otherness to keep people at a distance, while McCoy uses a the charm offensive of his "bedside manner" as his defense system.

So, McCoy says this thing about Spock not being afraid to die because he's so terrified of his Human side coming out IN DIRECT RESPONSE to Spock being unable to even look at him when McCoy is not only trying to thank him for saving his life but ALSO putting it into the context of how difficult their friendship is and how rarely they show any straight-forward affection for each other. And the most telling thing is, McCoy didn't seem to know for sure that he was right until he sees Spock’s reaction. Look at his expression when Spock turns away from him.

And look at his intensity when he says that Spock wouldn't know what to do with a "genuine warm, decent feeling."

When Spock turns to him and says "Really, Doctor?"

THAT is when McCoy is the one who breaks eye contact and changes the subject to someone that they both feel affection for, but who isn't in the room to hear it. I understand that there are other readings of this moment, and that's fine, but... I don't think this has to do with Kirk specifically. For one thing, it never comes up in the episode when they are reunited with Kirk, and for another Kirk is in the least danger out of the three of them. Instead, this moment is about how both of them struggle so deeply with showing affection when someone's right there in front of them.

By the end of the episode, we can see the two of them spending time together again, apparently by choice, and seeming very comfortable with each other... and the next episode is Journey to Babel, in which they are very friendly again with The Immunity Syndrome only four episodes after that, and the episodes in between showing them with much less contentious banter again.

Dare I say it, but I think this is a legitimate arc! And it's a shame that most people see the episodes in broadcast order, because it makes their relationship much more incoherent and makes this little escalation of frustration with each other more random and may make it seem like they genuinely dislike each other.

Anyway... this was. Not supposed to be such a long post, but I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings about these two, and I can't help myself sometimes.

#spones #long post is long #meta #spock #leonard mccoy #star trek #please read this i spent so long writing it that it got dark outside

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missjosie27 · 4 years

Text

Year 3 Part 12- Change is Coming

Hello, everyone!

We have officially reached the end of Year 3 and what a ride it has been thus far. The amount of interest this story has generated despite Hogwarts Mystery being somewhat of a let down is very heartening. It's extremely fun to write, almost like writing therapy in a way.

That being said I'd like to give an update for the future which I will also put in the story notes. This story will not be updated again until the New Year. The reason being I have several other projects I'm trying to juggle not to mention I like to write the story ahead of time and then release it over a period of time.

So, for the month of November I will be writing other things which should be done by December in which I will begin Year 4 and hopefully have completed writing it by January. So I ask for your patience as a I try to get everything done in a very difficult time for me personally. I promise it will be worth the wait. I have lots of fun things planned for Year 4, including for a certain cute Slytherin girl ;)

Anyways, enjoy the chapter! David Grant will be back in no time!

Unlike the previous year, no Professor confronted David about the vaults in the aftermath of breaking into one. He expected McGonagall or Snape to confront him about it. The Potions Master did shoot him nasty glares but asked him no questions and was no worse than he usually was. Of everyone Pince was the most likely to try and either punish or get him to confess but nothing of the sort occurred. Oddly enough, he thought the irritable librarian might be side stepping him on purpose as she consistently avoided his gaze while he studied for his exams. But there was one similarity: as it was with the ice the boggarts seemingly vanished in the aftermath of their excursion. The curse was broken.

As for the other affairs at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had returned although no one knew just exactly where he’d gotten off to in the first place. There were rumors to be sure (including one where he allegedly slayed a Hungarian Horntail and another where he took a two week holiday at a muggle resort in France in order to study the magical properties of champagne) but none of them were substantiated. The third, soon to be fourth year, Gryffindor considered himself lucky that the Headmaster was not present during his latest escapade but nevertheless remained on his guard. Very little got by the old man despite his outwardly friendly, eccentric demeanor.

Exams were soon concluded as was the Quidditch season. Unfortunately for the Lions, Slytherin won their last matchup giving the snakes victory in the Quidditch Cup which was difficult to stomach given their resounding success the previous year. Charlie Weasley took it especially hard, but all were reassured by the words of Bill, who reminded everyone the same squad was returning next year and they had only lost their two games by a margin of 100 points. Despite the disappointing season Skye Parkin and Charlie remained two of the brightest young stars in Hogwarts.

Exams were formally concluded by the second week in June and to celebrate their marks among other things Bill also suggested they celebrate at the Three Broomsticks during the last visit to Hogsmeade. With a not so subtle wink he also made plans to invite everyone involved with the latest vault, signaling their latest triumph.

Though still mentally a bit fatigued, David thought the idea was a good one and supposed if there was any time to kick back and relax it was now. The map of the forest and the broken arrow were safely locked away in his trunk, and despite feeling like he was still far from finding Jacob, he was content for now that the boggarts had disappeared and Hogwarts returned to normalcy. Besides, he had a feeling a proper discussion regarding the latest vault was imminent at the Three Broomsticks.

All the same, it wasn’t a proper school year without one last confrontation with Merula Snyde.

It was a bright, sunny day, the kind that reinvigorates the bones and the soul when the weather turns warm in the highlands of Scotland. Happy to forgo the black robes of his uniform, he dressed himself in a white t shirt, red zip up jacket, blue jeans, and a pair of black vans he was quite fond of from a muggle company called ‘vans’ (he saw the advertisement on a commercial street in London and convinced his mother the value of such a purchase). Glancing one last time at the trunk he kept his things in he muttered to himself.

“Two vaults down. I wish finding you was simpler Jacob, we could be a family again if you just came back...why...why don’t you come back?”

Feeling a rare moment of tears surging through, David wiped them and buried the feelings just as he always did. He did not want to lose face in front of his friends nor indicate anything was wrong. A butterbeer and a few jokes would be enough to keep the pain at bay for at least a little while.

He left Gryffindor Tower which by now was largely devoid of anyone given it was a sunny day, exams were done, and most people were out and about. It was only when he reached the edge of the Great Hall that the Slytherin girl stepped out from the shadows.

“Grant.”

“Good Lord, we need to put a bell on you,” he quipped.

But Merula wasn’t laughing, though she almost never smiled (unless it there was malicious intent) this time there was a hard, stony faced expression that betrayed both frustration and deep seated anger.

“I know you found that vault and I know you broke that boggart curse,” she told him quietly.

“Good job, detective. Do you want a medal for special services for the school?”

It was quite remarkable how easy it was to get underneath her skin, but for once David didn’t have the energy to spend going back and forth with her. He was tired and in no mood to pull out his wand and duel her for the umpteenth time.

By the same token, he was prepared to all the same.

“I hope you enjoy your little victory with your pathetic friends. Savor it while you can,” Merula sneered at him.

“I will, thank you,” he responded coolly. “Can’t say the same for you though.”

The teenage Slytherin’s scowl morphed into a snarl as her fists clenched but she did not reach for her wand.

“Why?” she spoke through the clenched teeth. “Why do you always do this?!”

“You’re going to have to be more specific. I do a lot of things.”

“This!” Merula gestured wildly with her hands. “Every time we fight or battle you just respond with stupid wisecracks! And on top of that you always win!!”

David recognized straight away that this was not a typical tantrum from his long standing rival. Rather it was a plea, a desperate attempt to justify why things had gone the way they had. An answer for all of her failures.

“Merula, you’re looking at this the wrong way,” came his straightforward reply.

“And how should I be looking at it?” she snarled.

“I’m not going into these vaults so I can become rich or hold myself above everyone else...I’m doing it for my brother and for the friends who have my back.”

“I had friends!” Merula shot back. “Until you bloody well took Tulip and Barnaby from me!”

“I took no one from you,” David replied more forcefully. “They chose to join my side because you treated them like rubbish and didn’t feel like taking your orders anymore.”

But Merula refused to heed him.

“It’s your fault! Everything bad that’s happened to me is your fault!”

“Classic Merula Snyde,” the Gryffindor said with an angry sigh. “Can dish it out but can’t take it. Have you ever once thought that you might be wrong? Are you capable of caring about anything except yourself?”

“I-I...you-”

“You don’t know what a friend is because you’ve never had one,” he interrupted her. “I doubt you’ve ever cared to either.“

“Don’t pretend to know me, Grant!” Merula shouted. “There is nothing about my life you could possibly understand!”

“Maybe not, but I do know one thing: if you keep on doing the same thing over and over again expect the same results. And if attacking, insulting, and lying to me hasn’t worked thus far, you may want to consider that the source of your misfortune originates with yourself and not with me.”

For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, David Grant had left Merula Snyde speechless. No comeback, taunt, or rejoinder came from her mouth. Instead, it was sealed shut in a tight line and once more he could see that same hurt in her eyes. The soft lavender tortured by pain and anguish. Temptation to express sympathy became suddenly apparent but that emotion was pushed back. How were you supposed to feel sorry for someone who tried to make your life miserable just because of their own hubris?

She’s right, I don’t understand. I don’t think I ever will.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have some people waiting for me at the Three Broomsticks. See ya next year.”

As he moved past Merula, he was prepared to engage her again if she attacked. But this time retaliation was absent as the Slytherin stood stock still, posture unchanging.

Taking the staircase down to the grounds, David wondered how long it would be before she moved again.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Thankfully, the Three Broomsticks was a much noisier but merrier environment and sure enough the entirety of his friends were there- Bill, Penny, Rowan, Ben, Tulip, Tonks, and Barnaby sitting at one of the corner booths. All were partaking in a round of butterbeer and to his pleasant surprise there was a full mug of it untaken as though it were waiting for him.

“Dave! You made it!” Rowan exclaimed. “What took you so long?”

“Had another run in with Merula,” he said frankly.

That caused the entire table to give pause.

“Did you have to-”

“Strangely enough she didn’t attack me this time,” he answered Ben straight away. “It was more like yelling and flailing angrily.”

Bill shrugged, edging the glass mug towards him.

“Well no need to worry about her now. Have a butterbeer. Madam Rosmerta said it was on the house.”

“Cheers, mate!” he thanked, raising his glass and taking a sweet sip.

“I propose a toast,” Tulip declared, raising her own glass. “All hail the conquering cursebreaker! Long may he reign!”

“Here, here!” the rest of the group shouted out.

David was genuinely touched.

“Thank you, all. I couldn’t have done it without any of you….though you might want to be careful where you say that. ‘Officially’ we weren’t anywhere near the vault, remember?”

“Nah don’t worry about that,” Tulip told him. “I’ve heard Pince was so embarrassed about the situation she hasn’t said a peep. Not even to Dumbledore.”

“The Professors aren’t dumb, they know that someone broke the curse on the vault since most of the boggarts vanished. I heard Professor Snape was on the warpath at the latest Prefect’s meeting,” Bill informed them.

“He is,” Barnaby confirmed taking a long swig. “Merula told him about Madam Pince, the Restricted Section, and the Cursed Vault.” A proud grin stretched across his face. “She forgot to mention the part where I defeated her and Ismelda.”

“So if he knows why isn’t he hauling my ass into his office right now tearing me a new one?” David asked.

“It’s like what Tulip said,” Tonks replied. “Pince is too embarrassed to admit what happened. Didn’t stop her from giving me detention through next year though.”

“There’s no proof,” Ben agreed. “Even I’m not worried.”

“Thought I think getting detention into next year might be a new Hogwarts milestone,” David said chuckling and raising his glass towards his pink haired friend. “Congrats.”

“That dungbomb was all for you, Dave. It was also totally worth it.”

“Feels good to get off scot free,” Tulip agreed. “Well almost all of us, anyway. I don’t want to say it was all due to my brilliant plan but…”

“What did you find in the vault, David?” Penny asked eagerly. It was a question she had clearly been dying to ask.

“We found a map of the Forbidden Forest and a broken arrow. So more clues just as it was last time.”

“I’d wager all my galleons and gobstone set that the next vault is in the Forbidden Forest. It won’t be like this year where we had to spend an enormous amount of time just figuring out where the location was. I know I’ll be reading about it all summer,” Rowan chimed in.

“You mentioned in our last private chat that the map had the letter ‘R’ in the top left corner,” Bill said. “Do you have any theories on that?”

David’s eyes scanned the table before lingering on Ben.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing….”

If his gaze was accusatory it was unintentional but it had the added effect of everyone else doing the same thing which unnerved the muggle born Gryffindor.

“Why is everyone looking at me?”

He has no idea. He can’t even remember David thought to himself.

“Ben...I don’t know how to explain this because you couldn’t remember anything...but last year we found a letter on your person addressed to me signed from someone named ‘R’.”

“We think they are possibly related given the circumstances,” Rowan added. “But it’s a suspicious part of this whole mystery. Surely you remember something, right?”

“But I don’t!” Ben protested. “I don’t know what happened. One moment I’m on the train looking for you guys and the next thing I remember was waking up in a huge block of ice freezing to death. You believe me, right Dave?”

There was no lie in the boy’s eye. Someone like Ben was practically incapable of harming or hurting another human being and he’d come quite a ways from the frightened first year he once was.

“I do, Ben. Don’t worry, we’re not accusing you of anything. Just trying to connect the small amount of clues we have.”

Ben smiled in appreciation but that was not the end of the topic.

“I hope you aren’t lying to protect us. We can’t help each other unless we know what’s going on,” Rowan said, a harshness to his tone that wasn’t usually there.

Ben’s reply was honest but somewhat cool as he looked Rowan straight in the eye.

“I’m not lying to protect you, I promise.”

Sensing some tension Bill quickly interjected with a positive smile.

“Let’s worry about mystery maps and unexplained memory loss for another day. We’re here to celebrate together and that’s what counts. Now how bout some more butterbeer?”

And so they did, talking, laughing, rejoicing, talking about many subjects. Of particular interest was Penny and Rowan’s regalement of their role in distracting Pince, which took on a whole new dimension when Tonks set off the dungbomb too close for comfort (“It took so long to get the smell out of my braids!” the blonde remarked). Also of note was the fact that the Slytherin Quidditch team celebrated their victory by pulling a prank on top of the Astronomy Tower: hanging a pair of knickers which no one knew how they managed to pull off (“I could have done way better!” Tonks claimed). All in all, it was the perfect end of the year party.

After what seemed like hours and into the mid afternoon, Hagrid made an unexpected but welcome appearance.

“Arigh’ there David?” he boomed coming up to the table. “Celebratin’ with one last butterbeer before yeh all go home fer the holidays?”

“Right you are, Hagrid! Come on, pull up a chair. Join us.”

“I’d love teh, but I was actually sent ter give yeh a message.”

David cocked an eyebrow.

“And what would that be?”

“Professor Dumbledore wants teh see yeh in his office,” the large gameskeeper replied looking a bit sheepish.

The group immediately went silent as they all gave looks of concern that all indicated the obvious question: did Dumbledore, even in his absence, know all along?

“If it makes yeh feel better, Dave the boggarts are almost all gone,” Hagrid tried to reassure him upon witnessing his distress.

“Thank you. But I best not keep him waiting.”

He reluctantly drained his glass, gave a goodbye to his friends and prepared to face the music.

Maybe Tonks will have a detention buddy next year

He didn’t want to think about a possible worst outcome.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Surprisingly, the password to Dumbledore’s office was the same as it was the previous year ‘lemon drop’ which made David wonder if it was an unintentional design flaw or genius due to the fact that most young witches and wizards had no idea what a lemon drop was. Either way, he didn’t think the upcoming conversation was going to be about muggle sweets as he stepped past the gargoyle and up the rotating stairs.

Unlike the last instance in which he’d been inside this office, the outline and appearance was not as wondrous a second time though the layout was still quite impressive. And on this occasion, Dumbledore didn’t waste any time delving into the matter.

“Ah, Mr. Grant. Please come forward.”

David did so, quite afraid that the Headmaster was not going to be so forgiving and direct him to pack his bags, his wand to be snapped in two. The warning at the beginning of the year echoed loudly in his head. However, whatever the old man was feeling he gave no indication as the bearded face and sparkling blue eyes remained passively neutral.

“This has become something of a tradition,” Dumbledore began. “Our annual opportunity to discuss life, love, endless heroics, and egregious misbehavior.”

“It seems so, sir.”

He was almost tempted to give up right then and there but if there was one thing he’d learned about Dumbledore in his time at Hogwarts it was to expect the unexpected. Therefore he decided to say little for now.

“I understand much transpired in my two week absence.”

“Yes, Professor. More than you could imagine.”

“Even the wildest imaginations could not have come up with the tales retold to me,” Dumbledore said, that familiar twinkle returning to his eye. “Dragons in the common rooms, mummies in closets, werewolves in greenhouses, and Voldemort himself lurking in every cupboard.”

You have no idea

“There was more than one report that even I made an appearance in boggart form.”

“I’m surprised people would be afraid of you sir….by the way does this mean the boggarts are all gone?”

A knowing look passed over Dumbledore’s features.

“I believe you have already made the observation for yourself, David. However, yes most of them are gone. It is important to note, however, that boggarts can never truly be banished because they are born of human emotion. Fortunately they can be of some use. Defense Against the Dark Arts classes can practice ‘Ridikkulus’ on the remaining ones for years to come.”

There was a slight pause in which the old man put something away into his magnificent desk.

“But I’m sure that’s nothing compared to what you faced in this latest vault. Please, tell me everything.”

So he did know. David supposed there wasn’t any use in playing dumb anymore as almost nothing got by the Headmaster in the first place. Yet, it was still amazing to him that he was able to glean his transgressions regardless.

“Sir, I-”

“There is no need to lie, David in case you were thinking of doing so. You are not in trouble for the time being. Please be honest.”

Reassuring enough

The third year Gryffindor acquiesced. Though he left out the details of some parts such as Tulip’s plan, his brother’s room, and the full extent of Bill’s involvement, he was truthful to the letter about what horrors lay inside and the fact that his boggart was You Know Who. Upon finishing his tale Dumbledore took a moment to muse before responding.

“This is all quite fascinating. It seems as though someone else tampered with the vaults which released the multitudes of boggarts.”

“Yes, sir. Originally, I did try to do as you asked at the beginning of the year.”

“And do you know the reason why your boggart takes the form of Lord Voldemort?”

Resisting the urge to shudder at the name, David debated on how to properly answer. Though he gave Tulip a truthful answer before, it was not the full truth, one that had only just come to bear by virtue of entering the vault.

“It’s not You Know Who himself. It’s more what he represents.”

“And what does he represent to you?”

Dumbledore’s eyes were piercing over his half moon spectacles but they were also gentle and understanding giving his pupil ample time to respond. When David did finally answer, it was difficult to get the words out.

“Guilt,” he said with tremendous effort. “Guilt over Jacob and why he left. The rumors after his disappearance about joining You Know Who were constant. If you want a reason why I went after the vaults again that’s the main one. To try and find him...I heard his voice speaking to me in the vault again...”

He couldn’t continue but there was no need to say more as Dumbledore nodded empathetically.

“Naturally. And if I had such information I would certainly share it. However, the mystery of Jacob Grant remains. While I cannot speak to his location I can speak to my personal theory that he yet lives...your bond is proof of that.”

David nodded in return but he was unable to discuss his brother any longer. Switching gears, there was a question he had for Dumbledore as well.

“Professor, you’ve gone at certain points in each of the past two years. Where exactly have you been?”

“Ah yes, I believe it is my turn to answer some questions,” the old man said with good humor. “I take it you’ve heard the wild rumors.”

“Almost every single one.”

“Then you must have discerned I was not in France to discern the magical properties of champagne though it is rather tasty I must say,” Dumbledore chuckled. “No, I have been seeking the world’s finest curse breaker. One who has had intimate experience with the cursed vaults. An exceptional pupil of mine back when my beard was shorter and browner.”

“Who is she?” David couldn’t help but ask.

“A woman by the name of Patricia Rakepick. At present she is currently exploring recently discovered ruins under the Brazilian wizarding school Castelobruxo.”

Familiarity with that name rang through the teen’s head.

“Rakepick...I know that name. I gave Bill a book about her adventures in cursebreaking. I had no idea.”

“Indeed, she is considered one of the magical community’s premiere experts on the subject. When the next year begins, she will be at Hogwarts to assist us with these vaults. I am most interested in hearing her opinion of them and of you.”

Dumbledore’s face then turned stern but the blue eyes did not lose all of its twinkle.

“You have directly disobeyed me, yet you have also once again broken a curse that threatened the livelihood and safety of everyone here. I am running out of excuses for you, David. If you repeat this offense again with a professional on staff, I will not be able to insulate you from further punishment.”

This was the Headmaster at his most serious and despite his general easy going demeanor it was not lost on David that this was also the only man You Know Who ever feared. It would not do to openly argue.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”

Dumbledore gestured towards his left, indicating a bright red and yellow bird, sitting on a perch in all its splendor.

“Actions are far better than apologies. Take Fawkes for example. From time to time the Phoenix is reborn- fresh and rejuvenated. You have that power too. Take the summer, and when you return to Hogwarts, start fresh.”

David nodded emphatically taking in the beauty of the Phoenix.

“Yes, sir. I’ll do my best.”

The old man’s faithful smile was back again.

“In the meantime, take one hundred points for Gryffindor. I daresay that might take the sting out of losing the Quidditch Cup this year.”

“You don’t know the half of...I mean, thank you, Professor.”

Dumbledore laughed heartily.

“I can always count on a whimsical remark from you in our conversations, David. However, there is one more thing I wish to tell you. Though the Vault of Fear has been broken it’s legacy remains ever present in our lives. Fear causes human beings to act in ways they would not normally, and though the Voldemort you fought was only a boggart, the real Dark Lord used the exact same method to gain followers and seize power. Remember that it is only by confronting our worst nightmares that we rise above them and truly become better people. No doubt that is one of many lessons you’ve taken this year.”

The wisdom was not lost on the young Gryffindor. He did not need to be afraid of Jacob or him joining You Know Who. The only method now was to move forward in continuing the search for his lost brother.

“Yes, sir.”

Feeling he was dismissed, David turned to leave but not before one last telling remark from the Headmaster.

“David, my last bit of wisdom was not aimed solely for you alone. There are many other students who could stand to start fresh next year. Including one miss Merula Snyde.”

He didn’t respond to that and didn’t need to. The implication was clear enough. Everyone was going to go through some changes in the coming months. What kind had still yet to be determined.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dumbledore’s last second gesture allowed the Gryffindors to eek by the Slytherins for the House Cup, which did not sit well with the snakes, however given that it was the end of the year, it was too late to do much about it. The party in the tower the night before graduation was legendary. So much so that Angelica Cole even drunkenly admitted how much she cared for and would miss him.

“You’ll be a great prefect,” she slurred, firewhiskey in hand.

David wasn’t overly concerned with that. The naming of prefects for his peer group was still another year away and he knew that Rowan or Charlie were the most likely candidates anyway. At the forefront of his mind was the long summer ahead, a time of relaxation and fun for most people, but for the Grant family there would be little to no vacations. His father would stay stoically silent, his mother constantly hen pecking...only his grandfather seemed to truly sympathize with him.

I reap the consequences of Jacob’s absence, he thought to himself at one point. Mum and Dad are incapable of seeing that

Still, he was able to enjoy the train ride home with his friends, which was a small consolation for the isolated, controlled environment he could expect upon his return to Bath. He scanned the prophet for any signs of beat writers catching wind of the boggart problem at Hogwarts but saw nothing, not even from the notorious Rita Skeeter. Breathing a sigh of relief, he supposed that unless Dumbledore lettered his parents, they would never know he had disobeyed them as well.

“Are you okay, David?” Rowan asked.

He tossed aside the newspaper and rubbed his eyes.

“Yeah sorry, mate. Was just finishing up checking the Quidditch scores.”

“Seems like something else is on your mind, though.”

His best friend knew him better than most people, so he supposed it was fitting he’d realize not everything was settled inside (least of which the eggs and bacon he consumed that morning).

“This year was the most interesting one yet,” he said aloud as he looked out the window. “And yet I feel next year will be even more so. My gut tells me a lot is going to change.”

“It may,” Rowan acknowledged. “But it may not be all bad. You’ll see.”

David turned around and observed the group in front of him- Ben, Charlie, Tulip, and Penny, his hazel blue eyes dilating slightly at the two girls, noticing just how pretty they looked.

“Yeah...maybe you’re right.”

“Besides if there’s one thing I can count on it’s cursebreaking adventures with my best friend.”

David clapped an appreciative hand on Rowan’s shoulder, warmth rushing through his heart.

“Thanks, mate...you’re just interested in reading about the Forbidden Forest this summer aren’t you?”

Rowan laughed at the joke.

“You caught me. Now come on, let’s go play some exploding snap.”

And so they did, and David was able to enjoy the last few sunny hours on the train. All the while he was able to heed the lesson this latest vault had taught him. It did no good to live in fear, especially when you had friends to count on.

But as it was every year, the ride back to Platform nine and three quarters was always quicker than the journey from there. Soon, everyone was unloading their luggage, saying hello to their families against the backdrop of the sunkissed day and over the roar of the hissing steam emanating from the train.

“Another vault down, another one to go,” Bill told him with a grin, shaking his hand. “Can’t wait to do this again next year.”

“As always, Bill. And who knows maybe we can finally get Charlie involved.”

“If you manage to get him away from dragons and Quidditch you might have a shot,” the elder Weasley laughed. “My folks are waiting in the parking lot, but make no mistake mum is very keen to meet you. We have to invite you for Christmas some time.”

“I’d be honored.”

Next was Tulip who had that ever present mischievous smirk but it was much softer in the presence of a farewell.

“Take care, David Grant. You’re a very intriguing person, and I can safely say I’m very glad I met you.”

“I could say the same about you, Tulip,” he responded genuinely. “Nothing we did this year would have happened without you.”

The eccentric Ravenclaw responded with something quite unexpected. She kissed him on the cheek and squeezed his hand once more.

“You’re many things, David Grant. Boring least of all, but most of all a good person. Can’t wait to make more mischief in the fall.”

She winked at him and ran off to join two people, which looked like her parents, one was a stern looking Japanese man with a bowler hat, the other an Irish woman with flowing red hair who also gave no visible emotion on her face. David felt a pang of empathy go through him. His parents may be strict, but he could only imagine what Tulip went through during the summer. He made a point of reference to write to her. Something told they’d both need it.

After exchanging goodbyes with Rowan and Ben, Penny was the last to see him off.

“Summer always seems dreadfully long even if it is my favorite time of year,” Penny told him. “Feel free to write me any time.”

“You know I will,” David said with a smile. “I’ll need all the post I can get.”

The blonde girl rubbed his arm encouragingly.

“It’s not forever, Dave. We’ll see each other again before you know it. Enjoy the holiday with your family!”

David supposed she didn’t know the true origins of his post semester blues, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her it was his family that was precisely the problem.

“I will, Penny. Thank you.”

For the second time in as many instances, he received a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, causing him to go red and touch the spot where he received the affectionate gesture, which made Penny giggle.

“See you next year, cursebreaker of Hogwarts.”

The last thing David had expected was two kisses on the cheek from two of his best female friends and it made him feel quite funny on the inside.

He had little time to dwell on these feelings however as his parents came into view a brown haired man with a goatee and a short blonde woman, waving and walking towards him.

“David!” his mom gushed, giving him an enormous hug. “So glad to see you safe and well. How are you? Did your exams go well?”

“Now, now let him breathe Heather,” his dad said with a light chuckle. “He just got off the train.” He ruffled his son’s dark brown hair in a show of affection. “It is good to see you safe and well, David.”

“Do you have your things unloaded and ready to go? Are you hungry?”

“Don’t worry, mum. I’m all set,” he said quickly to reassure her. Not even a minute in he was already tired of her smothering.

“Very good then, can’t blame a mother for asking.”

“I rented out a ‘Chevro’ something,” his father mentioned to him as they began to walk away from the platform. “Yank automobile. Runs pretty well, I know we can apparate but I’m thinking of buying one for myself. Dead useful these things.”

“John, please keep your voice down lest the entirety of muggle London know what we are.”

“Apologies, dear.”

His mother turned to face him and beamed a great smile but as it was since his brother disappeared there was a subtle sadness and anxiety within them.

“I have good news. We’re going to visit my side of the family this summer at their house for a get together. My brother is having another baby soon. I hope you’re ready for it.”

David thought back to his friends, his Professors, Dumbledore, the map, the broken arrow and the lively face of Jacob whispering to never give up. He looked up at his parents, two people whose lives were still run by fear...fear of losing him.

“Yes,” he replied. “I am.”

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juleswolverton-hyde · 5 years

Text

Between the pages | 03

Genre: fluff, angst, romance, smut, Werewolf AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: alpha!Namjoon x human!Reader

Warning: Mention of knotting/mating, a conflicted angry Joon.

Summary: Sometimes we find by sheer luck what we lost between the pages. The retrieval, however, is not always as fortunate.

Previous part / Masterlist / part 4 (yet to be written)

Inhibition has come to form a steady aspect of a life full of oppression, whether it be in the form of thoughts about a dearly missed loved one or unspoken words about an inevitable event. All are elements of the mental cage a fortunate woman was distanced from just in time, the second drowsy murmurs started to transform into murring, the disguise of the thing within regardlessly hoping happiness could be found somewhere far out of its reach.

Just in time to remain blind to the monster.

Be safe from the unconscious influence of nature always triggered first by a splendid persevering brother who also falls into bestial primitivity once a month howbeit in a much more controlled fashion than the youngest shame of the bloodline.

From a murderous lustful renegade.

And that same silver perpetrator now stares out over the calmly flowing river mirroring the rays of the sun on a rare bright day, zoning out to the occasional sharp sparkle that distracts all focus from the boiling bad temper and painful stings in the nether region which will only worsen once the monthly “season” starts anew. Is lost in the scent of inked pages that were once read together after class and on dates that seem so long ago if not part of one of the many surrounding tales, completely ignoring the psychiatric alpha earning some money on the side as a barista as broad shoulders are shook with an urgent request for a shift in attention.

‘Namjoon! Have you been listening at all?’ A mirthless though relieved grimace forms on the elder brown wolf’s long handsome face when hazy eyes revert from agitated crimson to espresso, regaining a sense of reality as gazes lock while absent fingers continue to fidget with the iron necklace from which a platinum wedding band dangles. The ring that will never bond with moonstone. ‘Of course, you haven’t. Look, Monie, I know you’re thinking of her as per usual when you stand here instead of actually running the store and can smell on you that your rut is going to start soon, but even so, we really need to talk.’

There is no energy to wage a verbal war despite the anger of the creature within, eager to lash out with claws at being provoked while the man forming its host manages to sedate it at the cost of increased exhaustion but a triumph of civilization. However, before starting on the inevitable topic, a habitual question is asked regardless of the never-changing negative reply to it. ‘Any word of Tae?’

‘You know how it goes, nothing. No new trails nor news. He’s out there somewhere doing fine, I’m sure. We have to hope so.’ An encouraging squeeze in a broad shoulder clad in an earthly colourful loose Mexican-style poncho consoles the melancholic hate-stained thought about the cousin turned away by the family simply for being an omega. A mere boy who was kicked out by parents who were supposed to love their only son unconditionally but easily discarded the blonde boy upon finding out amber would never turn into ruby. It is because of them Tae Tae ran away and vanished without a trace, could be dead for all that is known since childish naivety can become the cause for fatal errors.

Where are you? Please be alright. Please be okay wherever you are, buddy. You were the only other one who actually understood what it is like to be different. To be an outcast.

There is not much time to contemplate the loss of the relative with the odd square smile who was taught reading by a kid who would grow up to be a black-hearted killer, because Hoseok already moves on to the next sensitive topic of debate. ‘Joon, I went to the hospital recently and-’

‘I changed Jungkook, I know. Heard the story over breakfast thanks to Jin.’ Full lips pull back into a snarl, baring stark white teeth with a low self-loathing growl at the thought of having ruined the life of the shy cherry red-haired boy working as a waiter in the restaurant run by the head of the river territory who has strangely always idolized a mere beastly bookseller. Pulled strength from his words when dropping by to ask for tutoring for the seemingly hopeless exams of the high school he just graduated from. Kept doing so because he wanted to make his girlfriend, a really nice girl who is a few years older than him and is in the second year of the study of the mind, proud. But the mentor let the apprentice down in the most terrible of ways possible. ‘I’m a monster, a hazard, a fucking disgrace. I should be put down.’

Bony fingers now enclose both upper arms, demanding a revision of the statement out of fear for the asylum that would rightfully put an end to an endless war. ‘Don’t say that. We’ll think of something, do a bit more research to strengthen your medication. Jungkook’s girlfriend asked me to provide him with therapy so I’ll make sure he’ll go through the changing process as flawlessly as possible and keep you out of sight of The Council.’ The anxiety increases further at seeing the disbelief in an attitude knowing very well there is only so long one can run for justice, for a sane mind to remain separated from the abomination which grows more visceral by the day, for help to actually provide a solution. ‘Please say you don’t have the gun anymore.’

Until, one day, only a bullet helps.

’Joon, say you don’t. That’s not what Y/N would want for you.’ Something is off about the scent of amiable panicked irises, weird in the worried tone of speech. ‘She would support you and find a way. Help us find a way to do something about being a Renegade. Think of her, Monie. Of the ring. She’s out there somewhere and you will get married one day. And what of your brother, of Seokjin? He basically raised you on his back. And what of me? I can’t run this place on my own because I don’t know the summary of every book on the shelves. We’ll find a way and put this situation to rest properly.’

Flowers, but one sort in particular.

Tulips in summer.

‘How can you say that when her perfume is on you?’ The deformed mouth now clearly shows sharp canines, a mad frenzy ignited by smelling the wife who had to be saved from a monster on the other alpha cloaking vision in a scarlet haze as fingers mould into fists, nails digging into the palms to have a weak link to sanity.

But to no avail.

The tables turn, one hand distorted with rage grabbing the collar of a neatly ironed alabaster shirt and pulling the stunned earth-toned wolf with thin-rimmed glasses closer so that every growled word can be heard crystal clear in the air filled with the smell of freshly baked bread and her. ‘Answer me, goddammit. Why is my wife’s perfume on you? Did you fuck her, hm? Given her pups while you know she’s mine?’

The tinkling of the bell at the front door goes accompanied by a fresh alluring wave of the characteristic reminiscent scent also present on a lying bastard, distracting the mind just enough with alluring calming flashbacks to times gone by for Hoseok to once more turn the tide when a small step is set in the direction of temptation.

Y/N. She... she’s here. She finally came back to me, to her alpha.

The hold on the neatly ironed fabric is rapidly broken off by meticulously prying digits loose and turning the formerly offending arm on the spine after flipping a powerful wolf only now stupidly aware of the sudden attack, each endeavour to break free nullified with every ounce of available strength maintaining the locked position against the window behind the counter.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ A protesting wriggle proves as futile as the enemy’s had before, solely resulting in another grunt from the barely older colleague clearly thinking above his status. ‘Let me go!’

‘And let you walk up to her like this? You’re almost suffocating me monthly with pheromones so imagine what it would do to her.’ The unconsciously emitted hormones strengthen the chances of finding a proper omega partner to see the rut with through, intensifying every emotion and touch with the trance-like state it induces in both the lover and the mate. Although not everyone always appreciates the enhanced scents for to some they are unappealing, to put it politely. Regardless, due to the prohibition of werewolf-human relationships, very little is known of what it does to a person without the magnificent power of old but considering their obvious lesser strength, it is likely they shall submit earlier than the average she-wolf. Other effects remain in the undiscovered field of myth and legend.

‘She’s my wife!’ The view changes from the bright clear spring river to wood supporting stacks of newly arrived books that have yet to be categorized and priced, pinned down on the counter by the cursed mongrel bearing the scent of the gorgeous lady already bound to an alpha from a proud ancient line yet tried to be claimed by another.

‘And she is human.’ The unimportant fact is growled through gritted teeth. Just another supposedly good reason to not meet the woman who should have become the mother of my pups a long time ago, when the force within awakened for the first time after a date in the lush green park nearby the shining river. She would have looked lovely on all fours underneath the long fingers of the willow tree at the waterside of the central pond, flowy dress imprinted with summer cherries hiked up enough to allow her alpha, me, to pump her full while wrists were pinned to the soft young grass.

The heat within worsens at the imagery as the rut painfully signals with restrained by denim twitches that the incredible fantasy can still be lived if only the current situation can be escaped and Y/N retrieved before going somewhere private. Although, with the sensual cravings coming more and more to a boiling point on the brink of an uncontrollable explosion, it is likelier the beautiful woman who was idiotically left behind will first be knotted on the ground.

Floral footsteps head towards the literary section in the back of the shop, removing themselves from a loving husband. Never again will the same mistake be made, that small hand let go of. It shall only be so when having to take over the task of carrying our son or daughter or both around.

Only then.

‘So what? I’m not allowed to even greet her? She’s not yours, bastard. She’s mine. My mate.’ Claws already begin to form where wrists are held captive, canines tangibly pressing against the tongue having greater difficulty with each encompassing second spend in rage, mere moments away from starting a fight as glorious wolves and putting the offender back in place.

If alive at all.

First, an easy battle since the strength of the opponent will be weakened by trying to act above social standing and then, at last, can true lovers be united and form a family. A pack.

I’ll mate her, right there against the poetry bookshelves. We’ll be together, baby. I promised you we’d be.

‘Joon, listen to me.’ A short lifting and harsh downfall onto the wood once more make a furious ruby stare shift attention from hidden loveliness to irritating commands supposedly made with reason. Made by a traitor laying claim to the mistress of another. ‘Listen. To. Me. I know this isn’t you talking, it’s the wolf on his rut, and you’re actually somewhere in there.’

‘Stop the bullshit. This is me. I’m here.’ Nothing but a true person, the rightful second-in-line for the position of the heir of the Kim family and leadership of the river district, is being held down.

Nothing but a man merely wanting to see his estranged spouse.

‘No, you’re not. Namjoon, normally you’re capable of suppressing the symptoms better. I know you can do it, so come back. Snap out of it! Y/N can’t know what you are and you want to keep it that way, emphasizing this by living unmated while still worrying about her. Remember how you’ve tried thus far, successfully, to keep her away from wolf society. Think about the rings.’ Hoseok’s voice lowers to a more peaceful version of itself at noticing the relaxation of tensed shoulders, the ceasing of endless barely containable struggles, the growling fading away into pained whimpers. ‘Your vows, think about them.’

I swore, dammit, what did I swear again? What does it matter? This is who, not who I am. It matters. Fuck, I need to recall. Right, to protect you against them. Against the thing inside even if it meant I’d never see you again. That, someday, I’d be a better man, fit to be your husband. Yours, in every aspect.

Scarlet fades away into deep earthly brown like the forest floor after a twilight filled with rainfall, the shade of the espressos drunk on book dates in this very realm of inked tales bound in a sea of colourful named spines. Razor sharp canines retreat in the gums, replaced by their human counterparts as fatal claws do the same but in the flesh of calloused hands. Speech is restored to baritone coherency, no animalistic trace left behind. ‘Hope, I- what I just- I didn’t mean anything of what I just said. I’m sorry, for what it’s worth after all the times I’ve acted like this.’ The gaze of the personification of the support pillar of the common sense that gets lost too often in the mind of the beast is sought, finding consenting comfort in it as the tight suppressing hold is lifted. ‘I really am.’

‘I know and, besides, you’re very unoriginal with your insults so I tend to ignore them anyway.’ As a way of making up for the rough treatment, clothes are righted by long tanned bony fingers, straightening out the creases and other signs of struggle while also clearly being aware of the boiling heat emanating from the skin underneath the fabric.

When they are finished with polishing, arms are crossed as a long face nods in the direction of the small back room functioning as a wardrobe and storage for new arrivals, back-up copies and second-hand novels which have yet to be sorted onto the shelves. ‘Wait there until she is gone. I don’t know, read a book or something, but whatever you do, try to stay in control. I have some of your medication in my bag, in the front pocket. It won’t really help, but it’ll suppress the symptoms for a while. Once she’s gone, you’re going home and I’ll manage the shop for the rest of the day. Should be easy enough, considering the stream of customers is... well, small.’

Tempting summer tulips are spread by innocent unmated fingers wandered to the fiction section where they are now leaving through a roman, conjuring up the earlier determination seducing the mind to give up sense in favour of true love.

So close, just a few steps away.

The heat encourages bridging the distance, rush to beloved lips that have never been forgotten, let temporary reason fade away into contact. Precisely like the voice falling away into absent-minded dreaming. ‘I’m... I’m just going to say hello.’

A firm hand on the richly decorated fabric of the suffocating cardigan makes the unconscious step forward undone, endeavouring to guide a stony resisting silver wolf to loathsome confinement again. ‘Joon, don’t.’

A pathetic whimper falls from full lips, partially out of the enhanced longing for the moonstone lady and in part due to the continuous stream of sharp stings of pain in the region below. ‘Please, let me see her. I’ll behave, I promise.’

‘I can’t let you do that, Monie.’

‘I can control it. Please, I need to see her.’ Shortly, focus briefly shifts to the light brown eyes of the caretaker of the contained yet mighty dominant creature below the surface wanting to be like any guy on the street. ‘Look at me. See? No crimson eyes. I can do this, Hoseok.’

The wolf wants Y/N too. It won’t hurt her nor will I. What am I saying? I am the wolf and she is safe with me.

A negative shake of brown locks lighting up bronze in the sunlight falling in through the window makes teeth grit because of apparently not being convincing enough despite having proven to not be a risk. And if the gesture did not stress this, the stern tone upon speaking does. ‘You just proved you can’t, Namjoon. Do what I just told you to. Wait in the storage room and take the pills. If you don’t, you’ll be a danger to us all and you know that. Do the right thing. I don’t want to see you disappear into the asylum.’

I won’t. I’m fine, normal. In perfect control.

‘But it’s Y/N, my wife, my mate...’

‘I know, but you can’t approach her like this. At least we know she’s back in town so I’ll ask around and see what the district leaders have to say, find out where she has settled so you can meet privately when the rut has passed.’ Another attempt at going towards reminiscent flowers moved to the thriller section is halted, this time to much annoyance which is answered with a laborious though resigned sigh. ‘Stop it. Deep within you also know you can’t.’

Sharp predatory canines.

Bloodthirsty ruby.

Burning unconvincing hatred.

‘I can! Have got any fucking idea how much it hurts, huh? Know what it’s like to be unmated and going through Hell each month while your brother is nauseatingly happy with his girlfriend, able to knot his mate, continue the bloodline?’ At this point, the political consequences are the least of worries compared to those attached to walking away once more, thus making the same idiotic mistake as five years ago. However, it goes beyond having a reunion as well since this is also about showing that the second ashen-haired heir is not as much of a disgrace to the family as they have made him feel. Can be the father to the strong alpha pups of the next generation, who shall be even better than their parents.

‘Yes, I do because I experienced it once as well, though it sometimes still feels like it.’ Lashes lower in the belated realization that both alphas have a partner which is not approved of, nullifying the argument given earlier that contact between a crazed wolf and human cannot happen due to well-known apparent risks connected to it. Although, how can something that brings pleasure and relief from sensual pain have any other outcome, have repercussions when it only ensures the continuation of the dynasty? ‘Jimin can’t keep up with me already as is and I’m not part of an ancient pack. However, that does not mean my experience can’t form somewhat of a warning.’

The detail of familiar perfume on the bisexual alpha’s skin was almost forgotten yet freshly remembered thanks to the topic of debate. ‘You haven’t answered the question about how my wife’s scent ended up on your skin, said whether or not you fucked her.’

‘Of course, I haven’t because I’m a good friend and have been serving the Kim family loyally. It’s a curious thing I keep forgiving you for the amount of bullshit you can spout when you’re like this.’

The provoked fist lashing out is easily avoided, a slender palm wrapping around the forearm as quick as hunting paws and forcing a silver awesome creature into the unwavering locking position with a cheek against the counter again. ‘Listen for a second.’

A disagreeing growl owns a choked grunt at an attempt to maintain the current position while dearly missed footsteps return to the poetry section, come closer. The brown-haired mongrel seems to notice the tracking, resulting in an enforced surprisingly strong grip. ‘Listen to me. Joon! Listen. To. Me. A new bakery has opened in town and I go there each morning for a cup of coffee before coming here. Luck would have it that Y/N is the owner of the place and present to help the employees out wherever possible. We’ve been negotiating a collaboration between the shop and bakery for a few days now, merely talking about assortment and delivery schedules. That’s the reason. I wouldn’t lie to you. Happy now?’

A difficult look over the shoulder wants to see the lie behind the words, a reason to deal with the fake comrade that will leave him shunned and forgotten in the hierarchy, but all scarlet eyes regard is honest truth pleading for a sliver of sane conscious floating beneath the surface of the split personality to recognize it.

Which the resurfaced humanity does when the normally sunny long-time companion continues when remarking upon a repercussion that was discussed earlier at the breakfast table. ‘If this keeps happening it will only be a matter of time before the Council finds out about your state and send you to the asylum. Think about Seokjin, about me, about her. You will never see any of us again if you don’t fight for control.’

‘I- I know and I try. But, I can’t think clearly.’ Teeth grit themselves at another spurt of scorching warmth shooting throughout, worsening the capability of returning from mindless animalistic behaviour, deteriorating reason with every passing second. ‘Hobi, it hurts...’

Need to mate, need to fuck. Where did the tulips go? They’re still poetic. My beautiful bitch needs her alpha. No, can’t think this way. I’d break Y/N, can’t love her right when the thing inside craves her too.

‘I know, Joon, I know.’ All former caution fades from Hoseok’s attitude, replaced by the persevering calm that tries to be maintained during chaotic moments like these. ‘I’m gonna let go now, okay? I trust you to do the right thing.’

The paralyzing hold unravels, palms placed on the counter offering support while getting up to roll shoulders back before sullenly wandering to the storage room, a hand sheepishly correcting ashen locks grown haphazard in the struggles for liberty that must never be given to the oppressed thing roaming inside. Withal, feet only curtly stop in the crack of the door to gaze in the direction from which familiar eyes surprisingly look back yet are too rapidly turned away from, the door closed too soon, to instigate any sense of recognition.

We can’t be together. Not now, in any case. Someday I won’t have to walk away anymore, someday we can finally get married and I get to kiss you good morning and goodnight. Someday a place of our own will be filled with childish laughter and little paws. Until then, I’m sorry, baby.

The dusty fragrance of pages inscribed with tales of the fantastical, some of which have always been believed to merely be the conjurations of fancy though the underground society would beg to differ, makes a wild heart slow down. Clears sense enough to search the bright cherry red backpack which has “Hope” written in colourful letters on the front pocket and is tucked against a stack of new publications for the wolfsbane medicine.

Two small stark white pills containing a sedating poison for the abomination induce the same brief haze they always do, giving the split mind the breathtaking room it needs to function properly as a human, be like any other man out there.

Simply be allowed to play the role of the bookseller by the river.

Wallowing in the scent of a forgotten summer behind a firmly closed locked door.

Nonetheless, memories tend to resurface.

And this particular one comes too close.

#BTS #BTS smut #kimnamjoonnet #hyunglinenetwork #Namjoon #RM #Kim Namjoon #Joon #Werewolf!Namjoon #alpha!Namjoon #BTS Werewolf AU #Werewolf AU #Between the Pages

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gentlemanmcbitch · 6 years

Text

An extensive look at the BNHA traitor theory

Alright, here we go. I don’t know what motivated me to do this but I’m diving all the way in. I’m going to assume two things before we start:

Shigaraki knows who the traitor is, and they aren’t reporting directly to All for One.

The traitor has been the traitor the entire time--since USJ. They didn’t become the traitor later on.

So, right off the bat, we know that after Bakugo gets kidnapped and the heroes launch their counterattack, the bar hideout where he’s being held is pretty undefended, and the arrival of the heroes is unexpected, but at the Nomu Factory, All for One is waiting patiently for their arrival, knowing full well they would be there. The only reason the heroes even knew the factory was there was from the tracker Yaoyorozu and Awase put on the Nomu. So, in order to tell the League, the traitor had to have known about that tracker. So, our starting list is the following:

The Hideout Raid Team that conducted the attack, consisting of Tsukauchi, All Might, Endeavor, Best Jeanist, Edgeshot, Gang Orca, Kamui Woods, Mt. Lady, Tiger, and Gran Torino

Awase (The Class B student who welded the tracker onto the Nomu)

Everyone in class 1-A EXCEPT Hagakure, Jiro, and Bakugo

Why not Hagakure, Jiro and Bakugo? Well, the existence of the tracker is revealed to the class when they’re visiting Midoriya in the hospital after the training camp arc.

Hagakure and Jiro aren’t here because they were unconscious recovering from Mustard’s gas, and Bakugo isn’t here because he was kidnapped. So, none of them could have known about the tracker, so they aren’t the traitor.

Also, going back to the Hideout Raid Team, everybody except All Might and Tiger are definitely not the traitor, since there’s no way they could have known the location of the training camp. All Might and Tiger also can’t be the traitor, since Tiger doesn’t actually work at U.A. (so he couldn’t have known about USJ) and it makes no sense for All Might to be working for the organization whose main goal is to kill him.

So basically, the traitor has to be a student. Let’s narrow that down by figuring out who clearly isn’t the traitor and work backwards.

Midoriya: No explanation should really be needed. He’s the main character. Obviously not him. Let’s move on.

Kirishima, Iida, and Todoroki: each one of these characters has gotten a spotlight where we’ve been able to see their own thoughts, inner monologue, and perspective on being a hero, removing them from the list (anime-only people, Kirishima’s moment will come pretty early into Season 4).

Yaoyorozu: She was the creator of the tracker that allowed the pros to find the League and take down All for One. Unless she was in real deep cover and meant for that to be a trap (which is way too risky for the League to attempt), she can’t be the traitor.

Awase: Yeah, he may have known about the tracker, but there’s no acceptable way he could have known when class 1-A would have been at USJ, or that All Might would have been there either. Also, he’s a really minor character and if he was the traitor, it wouldn’t have any emotional pull.

Tokoyami: He was originally going to be kidnapped along with Bakugo, although Mr. Compress says that was a spur-of-the-moment decision on his part.

If you were to make the argument that Mr. Compress doesn’t/didn’t know who the traitor was (which is a valid one), his Quirk is also way too difficult to control for the League to consider using him.

Tsuyu: I feel like a lot of people overlook this detail since Tsuyu is one of the more popular traitor candidates, but assuming Shigaraki knows who the traitor is, there’s no way it can be her. Why?

Because if not for Aizawa intervening and erasing Shigaraki’s Quirk just in time, he would have absolutely killed her during the USJ fight. There’s no way that Shigaraki would have killed the League’s one source of information in the event that things went wrong. And if it was more of a tying-up-loose-ends kind of thing if Shigaraki was being REAL cocky, she probably would have stopped working for them once she learned how expendable she was.

Mineta: No. Just no. I think Horikoshi is self-aware enough that he wouldn’t make the pervert comic relief character the traitor, since that would have the exact opposite of whatever action he wanted.

So, now things get hazy. The rest of the suspects don’t have anything solidly eliminating them from the list, so in theory, any one could be the traitor. However, some have evidence supporting their being the traitor and some do not, and since I think Horikoshi is a good enough writer to put some clues in beforehand, I’m going to say that Ashido, Sero, Koda, Sato, and Ojiro aren’t the traitor because there isn’t any evidence saying they aren’t, but also none saying they are. Also, they’re all minor characters where the reveal wouldn’t really be that big.

So, we’re down to four: Uraraka, Aoyama, Shoji, and Kaminari. I’m going to go over the supporting evidence and the contradictory evidence for each one, give my take, and then let you decide for yourself.

Aoyama

Support: To start, he was mysteriously absent during the USJ, and when asked about it, he claimed it was a secret. Also, there was the short storyline of him spying on Midoriya like a big fucking creep.

Contradiction: Of course, he was allegedly spelling out cryptic messages in cheese because Midoriya’s Quirk doesn’t suit his body and Aoyama felt a kinship in that, but that is a pretty half-assed explanation. Of course, if he was the traitor he could have not made himself known at all, and his messages (both the cheese saying “I know” and his carving in the rock, which is a French phrase meaning “still waters run deep”) imply that he himself is not the traitor. To top it all off, during the training camp arc, he could have easily not fired at Mr. Compress and nobody would have known he was there or thought it suspicious. But he did.

I don’t think he is, personally, but I do think he knows something, and it’s odd how cryptic he’s being about it.

Kaminari

Support: Kaminari’s Quirk would have been perfect for jamming the transmission signal at USJ, and it’s very well-suited for secretly communicating with the league. It’s also possible he’s faking his dumb mode to lull his classmates into a false sense of security.

Contradiction: The signal jamming could have just as easily been done by, you know, the other electric-powered villain who was at USJ and trying to kill Kaminari. Also, even if the dumb mode is fake, the guy’s not very smart. He didn’t know he would be at the training camp if he failed the final exam, so if he was the traitor, he would have passed to ensure he could send the league their location.

Kaminari to me is the weakest theory, despite it being by far the most popular. Every argument that’s made is really situational, and there’s no solid evidence in favor of it being him. I will say though, out of these four it’d probably make for the best fight.

Shoji

Support: For one, Shoji is the most mysterious character of the bunch. We’ve never seen his actual face because he’s always wearing that mask. He’s also much more powerful then the series really gives him credit for: his stats show an A in power, a B in Technique and Cooperativeness, and a C in Intelligence. He’s got the potential to be a powerful, prominent character, especially since his Quirk has no known limits, and yet he isn’t. We’ve never even seen him fight, but we do know he’s strong enough to hold his own against an out-of-control Dark Shadow, although we don’t know for how long. Speaking of his Quirk, out of these four his is the most well-suited for being a spy, since he can listen in or watch people from a distance. Despite these incredible observation skills, though, he conveniently doesn’t notice Bakugo and Tokoyami getting kidnapped by Mr. Compress during the training camp arc, even though he was right in front of them. Also, he’s suspiciously absent during the hot springs scene at the training camp. On top of all of that, his dorm room has pretty much nothing in it.

He claims this is due to being a minimalist, but it could be so that he can pack up and leave on a moment’s notice.

Contradiction: He’s a pretty minor character, and unless he got some more screentime, a reveal with him as the traitor wouldn’t be very big and emotional. Aside from that, though, there really isn’t that much by way of protecting him.

If I was looking at things totally objectively, I’d say Shoji is the traitor. However, BNHA is a story, and from a storytelling standpoint, the next one makes much more sense.

Uraraka

Support: To start, we know that Uraraka’s main motivation as a hero is money. It’s money for a worthy cause, to help her family, but she could easily get that money from being bankrolled by the League of Villains. Also, she clearly isn’t as sweet and innocent as she lets on, something that really only Bakugo has picked up on, it seems.

And lastly, because from a storytelling standpoint, it makes so much sense. Think about it. What would be more devastating than to have the first friend Midoriya ever made to be the one who inevitably betrays him? It’s perfectly horrible, and it would turn the BNHA world on its head.

Contradiction: Her Quirk isn’t really good for being a spy, and she does save Midoriya’s life when she easily could have just let him die during the entrance exam, but maybe that was out of debt to him for saving hers.

Anyway, if you ask me, it’s Uraraka. If you have anything you want to add to the discussion or an argument you want to make against something I said, tell me! We all want to find out the truth.

#bnha #bnha traitor theory #bnha spoilers #mha #mha traitor theory #mha spoilers #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #uraraka traitor #shoji traitor #kaminari traitor #aoyama traitor

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

teachers pet (karon + branjie) -lem0n_b0y

an- hey y'all it’s ya boy. it’s finally done. my teacher au!! enjoy the dummy gays getting caught in the act.

“Maywood is Red Hot, We will not Stop, Stop! We are Hot, Hot!”

Katya could practically hear the phatom of cheers in her ears as she walks down the white hallways. The commons were full of those preppy cheerleaders, hyping up the student body for the big game tonight. It was the beginning of the softball season and for their school, it was a pretty big deal. The school wasn’t great at many sports, they weren’t known for their football records. One thing that the were known for is smashing through the county’s other highschool teams for softball. With the utterly amazing leadership through Coach Hytes, last year was a knock out. All though Katya would lend her help to her every practice.

The echos of the drum line follow behind her as well. The band was also beautifully led. They had been known to place high in competitions, even going to a state competition. Though the drums and trombones really put a ping of pain in Katyas temple from the volume, she had much respect for the kiddos that make it possible and along with their teacher.

Ms. Needles, she sure is a phenomenal teacher. She always puts the student first, always making sure the have everything they need to succeed in everyway possible. Katya smiles to herself at just the thought of it. The moment she met the cooky punk hearted woman, she knew that they would spend a lot of time together. Her energy screamed different but her appearance is much more calm. Sure she would we’re darker clothes and a dark lip but it wasn’t her true colors from what Katya could tell. Alas, building a strong friendship with her during workplace hours was the highlight of the job. They often spend their planning period together and lunches. Having the small amount of alone time with such a bright mind was all it took to make Katyas day worth while.

While Katya spends most of her free time with the infamous Ms. Needles, whenever she was absent she would find herself in the chorus room just next to the band room to chat with the dearest Mrs. Act. The enthusiastic Aussie was another beloved teacher. The primary reason for that student given title is all of the boys fawning over her and her pretty face. Her voice could be heard from classes away to which nobody complains, her sound was far from nails on a chalkboard. Katyas relationship with her was goofy yet smart, they both had the biggest wit anyone had ever see.

She continues down the halls, snaking her way to the band room to once again spend as much time as possible with her beloved friend. The band room was graciously placed farthest away from the commons so she had no worried of loud noises annoying them. As she steps foot into the room she can see Ms. Needles brighten up.

“Glad to see you made it through the crowd of teenagers. You’re just in time to help me grade.” She smiles as her hand holds out a packet of papers to Katya. She was towered in work, her desk was a mess. The end of the school year was just in the horizon and everyone had begun to buckle down. Most teachers were slammed with makeup work as kids attempt to bring up their grades last minute. Katya didn’t have to worry about that, as for PE was an easy class to pass. All of her kids were at least at a C. She takes the stack of papers and sits on the edge of the desk, the only clean spot. “You really need to put your foot down Shar, this work is from last nine weeks.”

Sharon let’s out a little sigh and rests her head on her free hand while the other marked off on worksheets. “I just want them to pass.” Her writing hand was covered in messily doodled notes. The black ink spelled out students names and the name of worksheets that were needing to be put in the gradebook. She screamed stressed from just the looks of her. Her shoulders appearing tense and shadows of bone under her eyes, Katya frowns slightly. Seeing her on partner in crime so rundown was sad. She knew that Sharon had dug herself into a hole of generosity. After enough kids ask to turn in late work, you end up having to say yes to everybody.

Katya looks through her given stack of papers as an escape from worryful gaze. Red X’s pile onto each paper haphazardly as they sit in silence. There was an obvious fog of tension in the room.

Placing the graded stack of papers down after about ten minutes of quick grading, Katya looks back down at the hunched over woman. Her scribble ridden hand marks question after question with the most exhausted look on her face that Katya couldn’t stand it. She can’t stand to see the typically upbeat woman with a strong backbone to hold herself up so grey.

Breaking the silence, Katya stands up from sitting on the corner of the desk to face Sharon. “Shar-bear you seriously aren’t looking too hot. I think you really need to take a break from all of… this-” She jestures her hand to the messy desk. Sharon looks up from the paper she was working on to look at Katya. “- like this is gonna be the death of you, I mean really. You need to tell your classes that you’re no longer accepting late work from 2 months ago.”

Exhales slowly through her nose and removing the hand from her face, Sharon decides to give in and actually listen. Sitting back in her chair she looks Katya up and down slightly. “Kat’s, I’m just trying to make sure the kids don’t hate me. You know how newer teachers go, if you mess up they start hating you and nobody wants to take the class. And when classes are filled they throw kids in who need another elective credit, you know these kids hate that.” Sharon had begun to nervously ramble. All she ever wanted was to be the best teacher she could and would try everything in her power to do so.

Katya knew this very well, but still didn’t quite get why Sharon would be so worried about some sort of self image she wanted teenagers to like. Teenagers hate everything about school unless the teacher passes them without putting in the effort. Katya would know this because she was the same way as a teen. Sharon’s wish to be liked by the student body wasn’t something Katya could wrap her head around. “You’re rambling. How about you just take a break, it is lunch time after all.”

Sharon nodded slightly in agreement, placing her pen down onto the paper. Katya was right, she should take a break. Through all her classes so far through the day, Sharon hadn’t even taught anything. She gave them all assignments to keep them busy just so she could grade. Her lips pout slightly as she tries to clear her mind of all the work that needed to be done.

Katya always thinks she’s cute when she pouts like that. Her pursed black lips were always something that made Katya smile. It was almost how a child would towards a parent was the best way Katya could compare it. Those slight mannerisms that Sharon does is what really hooked Katya onto her when they first met. The first little thing that she noticed was her favorite foods were. Sharon would tag her lunch in the teachers lounge fridge. Everyday it was a wrap of some sort with cheesecake flavored yogurt cup and as time went on, Katya would bring her yogurt during planning period for her to snack on.

Her smile lingers as Sharon’s pout fades away into her speaking again. Her rambling consists of life updates, cat updates and recent TV shows she had binged while working on the final exam. Sharon had recently begun to rewatch all of Golden Girls and beings to assign Katya the character that reminds her of Katya.

Since then, Katya has pulled up a chair next to Sharon’s while the banter continues. “You would not believe how many kids I’ve had to threaten with detention this week, I mean really, they act like since schools almost over that they don’t have to follow rules.” Sharon rambles, getting upset over the rowdy children. Faking a shocked face, Katya mocks Sharon’s harmless threats. She knew that she would never write a kid at detention slip. “Slow down there! Ms. Needles about send kids to detention? She has finally snapped!”

“Oh shut up! They’re never this bad is the thing.”

“Kids will be bad, I was a bad kid after all.” Katya smiles wide and chuckles at her own statement. “- not saying that it’s an excuse but the teenage angst is a powerful demon.”

Sharon leans her head back onto the back of her chair, staring up at the cracked popcorn ceiling. Smiling to herself, she let’s out an annoyed groan. “It sure is. But I should really finish grading these papers.” Katya frowns as the work beings to call her companion back it. She didn’t want Sharon’s now bright energy to dull all because some kids don’t know how to turn work in on time. It wasn’t be duty as a teacher to keep the deadlines flexible, it was her duty to get them into a habit of turning things in on time. Katya pouts and slides her rollie chair closer. “Can we hang out for what- 5 more minutes?”

Tapping a finger to her chin, Sharon smiles very catty. “Fine, 5 more minutes.”

Five minutes didn’t seem like enough time for Katya to get her fill of soaking in Sharon’s ramblings of her personal life. If she could, she’d skip class like all the slacker students do but lunch had since ended and class had just started. Katyas students were scheduled to go to the tennis courts for the whole period and Coach Hytes were to go to the gym for a somewhat free day. She had been worrying over the softball game just like all the others. No matter how well they were doing through the season she still had a massive weight of worry on her shoulders. Being said, the normally calm Coach Hytes was cracking so hard she doesn’t even have the energy to teach. It was a day for the kids to play whatever they want in the gym, which may have been a grave mistake.

She shoots a text to Katya to remind her that all the kids need to bring back all the tennis balls along with questions about tonight’s game and who’s all playing or not. Tapping her fingers against her phone screen she attempts to take a deep breath in hopes to calm herself. The main thing on her mind about the game entirely was the batter. Vanessa was what her coach once described her as a ‘gorgeous tornado of energy’. With how much liveliness is in her, it works in her favor. Always being ready for practice was always on her mind up until the new year. She started skipping practice, going to parties and slacking on school work. No matter how many times she gets in trouble for it she keeps doing it. That’s why Brooke was nervous, Vanessa’s focus has left sports and has moved to being reckless. Nobody knows if she will be the ball and chain of the game.

Brooke picks up her pen and roll paper, biting the end if the pen as she scans to see who’s all in the gym. Her eyes land on the Tasmanian devil herself. Vanessa sits on the gym floor is some black gym shorts and a white tank top. From what Brooke can make out is she’s on her phone as always. Looking her up and down, Brooke’s mind goes a little too fuzzy for her liking. From the first day she met Vanessa she instantly found her attractive as hell, but who wouldn’t? Only way that Coach Hytes could assure herself on her raging attraction to her student was that the were only a few years apart. From what her file said in the office is that she failed the sixth grade. Brookes stare continues until a ball is thrown at a students head, forcing their whole body backwards. The student got back up unharmed but the loud thud of rubber on flesh was enough to snap her out of her head and back to the roll.

The bickering and barking had already begun in the four square corner with the main instigator being a the blunt yet kind-hearted Yvie. Oh Yvie was an unknowing trouble maker for sure. Her sharp edged tounge but also blase attitude toward many of the girls really got under people’s skins at times. So the loud arguing bubbling up wasn’t new for the small group of friends. The one thing that caught worry focused coaches ear was the voice of the girl that Yvie had fired up. A very recognizable voice.

Vanessa’s mouth is filled with angry curses as Yvie stands there with her arms crossed in defense. The argument was going to end up burning out within time is how Yvie sees it. Vanessa’s dark curls bounce on her shoulders as her yelling starts. “Well I don’t fuckin’ need your opinion on how well I do in a sport you don’t even fuckin’ play bitch!” She yells out with her hand balling up into fists. As her anger be comes to the point of a pot about boil over, she starts walking towards Yvie. “Then don’t worry about my shit! You’re the one who has been worried about how I decide to dress myself. All I’m saying is you need to get your priorities straight!”

Brooke finally decides to pay attention to her players voice by looking up from her papers at the worst moment. All while frantically cursing, Vanessa sends a punch into Yvies stomach with all the force she has. The taller girl stumbles backwards hard and starts yelling louder as she starts stepping closer to the swinger to push her down roughly. As soon as Vanessa is on the ground, Brooke quickly makes her way across the gym to break the two up. “You two! Stop it right now!” She yells out as she approaches and stands between the two.

“She fucking punched me!” Yvie exclaims, backing away from Vanessa who finally stands herself back up on her feet, attempting to bolt back towards her just to be stopped by one of Brooke’s strong arms. “Talk shit get hit bitch!”

“Vanessa!” Brooke pulls her backwards away from Yvie with her arm around her torso. She squirms to break free from her grip in hopes to finish what she had started. “C'mon Ms. Brooke, she’s been runnin’ her mouth about me! Bitch said I can’t barely play softball, she can’t just tarnish my name like that! Let me go!” She hollars as she is slowly tugged away by her coach. It occurred to Brooke how much Vanesas reckless behavior had really begun to get on her nerves, Vanessa was a young adult who should know better than to pick fights with other kids. Vanessa continues to try an free herself from her trap as Yvie is no longer in sight. As soon as the two get to the hallway, Brooke finally let’s her go. She quickly turns to face the clearly pouty young woman. “What the hell was that Vanessa?”

“I dunno, a fight? Me defending my good name.” She huffs out, already rolling her eyes at Brooke’s disapproval. Vanessa didn’t quite get that what she did was rash. Her emotions often would get the best of her as shown by little scuffs on her hands from trying to catch herself from Yvies push. A fighter would be the best way to describe her but also her most faulty trait. Sure she wanted to fight for what she believes in but most of the time that fight wasn’t used for good. Brooke knew this very well as she had seen Vanessa storm towards the bleachers at a softball game just because he gave her a dirty look after hitting a home run. None the less, Brooke wasn’t happy with Vanessa.

Rubbing her face slightly before speaking, Brooke narrows her eyes at her. “Yes it was a fight. But why did you decide to pick a fight right before the game, hm?” Her voice was harsh, more than Vanessa had ever heard. Her eyes widen at the sharp voice and relaxes her shoulders. “Because she was telling everybody that I was gonna lose tonight, like who the fuck does she think she is? So talk shit, get hit. She shouldn’t have been talkin’ shit.” She starts puffing back up at just the thought of someone talking bad about the one thing shes pride herself in. Brooke runs a hand through her hair and pulls out her phone. “Vanessa you’re in trouble no matter what happened. I’m getting Ms. Z to come watch the class while we discuss your punishment.” Her fingers type quickly and loudly, her eyes still narrowed towards her screen. “-and until she’s here, sit in my office. Got it?”

Looking up from her phone she sees a still worked up Vanessa. Her cheeks were red from the blood rushing in her system and her hands placed on her hips. If Brooke wasn’t so angry at her right now she would dare say she looked hot right about now. All though Vanessa could say the same thing to her. Seeing the tall blonde so snappy with her did make a little smile appear on he face. Brooke raises a brow as Vanessa nods and walks past her slowly, heading towards her office. “See you soon Mami.” She bumps into her playfully as she makes her way down the hallway. Snapping her head around, Brook watches her enter her office and closing the door.

Her mind instantly fuzzes again, the faint linger of Vanessa teasingly calling her 'Mami’ sends a warm wave up her body to her face. With the mix of emotion going through her head, Brooke leans against a wall to regain herself. The door of the far end of the hall opens and in comes Ms. Z with her class of rowdy kids. Katya directs her kids to go to the gym and that she will be there in just a moment. “So what the matter Brooke?” She says, walking up to her slumped coworker.

Brooke rubs her eyes and sits up straight. “Vanessa attempted to fight Yvie again and I luckily stopped her before she got too mad.” She exhales slowly and smiles halfheartedly. “I can’t let her play tonight after this, she’s been in trouble all week.”

Katya nods, laughing slightly. “When isn’t she in trouble?”

She had a good point. Brooke knew it’d end up coming to this but had hoped it wouldn’t. Vanessa is a good player and her sitting out wouldn’t be the best for the team. Attempting to rationalize her head she agrees with her previous thought of her being a ball and chain. “I’m going to have a talk with her, but thank you again for watching the class. You’re a life saver.”

“I do what I can. But don’t let her talk you into keeping her for tonight, she does have that effect on you.” Katya winks, knowing how easily Vanessa can sweet talk her way out of trouble. Especially knowing how big Brooke’s lady boner is for her, she knew that the warning wouldn’t be taken. Turning towards the gym door, Katya goes to deal with the kids while Brooke tries her hardest to put her foot down once.

Katya sits down at a nearby table in the gym and pulls her phone out to text Sharon about the situation.

Brooke opens her office door to see Vanessa sat on her desk, her legs dangling off the edge. She sits on her phone, tapping away, assumably texting Akeria about what had happened in the gym. She pouts her lips as she lifts her head from looking down at her phone. Brooke closes the door behind her, stepping towards the small trophy case on the wall opposite to the desk. The trophies are from years that Brooke had not been there for. She inherited the office from a past coach, keeping the case inside as the had no where to put the containments. “Vanessa why are you on my desk.” She finally speaks up.

“It’s comfy I guess, like feelin’ in charge.” She puts her phone down and puts her hands on either side of her. Tapping her nail onto the polished wood, she strikes Brooke with a small smile. Her smile was to die for, it was always gorgeous to too at. She knew good and well that it would make Brooke melt in her place. It was correct, Brookes body feels the warm wave again at the small smile. She shakes her head to rid herself of the fuzzy thoughts.

“Vanessa you’re in trouble, stop acting so calm. Please get off my desk.”

Vanessa looks around the room still sat on the desk. “You don’t gotta call me Vanessa. Everyone else just calls me Vanjie, you should try it.” Her eyes trail towards Brooke’s. Those blue eyes were so pretty after all. Vanessa loved to look at them whenever she could. But those blue eyes weren’t too assumed with her flase attitude. “I’m not going to call you Vanjie. This is serious you know, you’ve gotten 3 classroom referrals this week alone.”

“Why not? You’re so calm bout me callin’ you Brooke, everyone else calls you Ms. Hytes. Vanjie ain’t that bad of a nickname.” She continues to ignore the trouble that she is in by annoying Brooke with small talk. The annoyance sure was growing, as Brooke steps closer to her desk. Vanessa pouts her lips and brushes her hair off her shoulder with one of her hands “Why can’t I just sit up here? I’m comfy and shit.”

Brooke narrows her eyes as Vanessas legs slightly spread. She can see what she’s doing is getting under her coaches skin just as she had hoped. Vanessa smiles knowingly, biting her tounge a little. “If you don’t get off my desk, I swear to god Vanessa.”

“Whatcha gonna do to me , Mami? Am I makin’ you mad?’ She spreads her legs a little more and smiles. Brooke’s eyes widen at the questions, sending a warm feeling from her chest to her pelvis. She begins walking towards the desk, standing right between Vanessa’s legs. Placing her hands carefully on her lower thighs. "Just shut the fuck before I make you.”

“Well make me then.” Vanessa wraps her legs behind Brooke’s, pulling her close. Brooke’s hands grab her legs with the pulling motion, staying stable. They lean close to each other, body heat being shared. The room was silent, someone could hear a pen drop. Brooke bites her lip at the small space they now shared to which Vanessa smirks. “Don’t just stand there, show me who’s boss. Haven’t I been bad Ms. Hytes”

Without a second thought trailing through her mind, Brooke quickly presses her lips messily against Vanessa’s, pulling her legs to where they were wrapped around her own waist. Vanessa responses back with a smile into the kiss, grinding closer to the older woman. It was everything that Brooke wanted and more. Her lips were just as soft as she had dreamt of. Vanessa ran her hands through Brooks short blonde hair, giving a rough pull to make her moan into the kiss. Vanessa’s hips press as close as possible into Brooke’s.

Brooke takes the liberty to pick her up off the desk and walk to the closest wall, slamming her into it. A picture frame falls from the wall and neither of them flinch. The fight for dominance im the kiss turn to biting and tugging of lips. The quiet room was filled with moaning between crashing of lips.

The door creaks open slowly, and Katyas face peaks in to see Brooke full of anger and lust with Vanessa against the wall. She widens her eyes and slowly closes the door to avoid breaking them up. She wasn’t in the mood to have THAT conversation. Closing the door behind her, she shakes her head and walks back to the gym.

“How was the day Kat’s? Anything shocking happen?” Sharon questions while sitting against a wall of the band room holding a mug with supposably only coffee in it. Katya could already see from the smile on her face that she was tipsy. The school day had ended so the quick after school drink wasn’t much of a worry to her. “I don’t think this counts as shocking but Brooke finally snapped I guess. Walked into her office to tell her that Yvie isn’t going to snitch on Vanessa to see them making out and dry humpin’.” Katya sits down right next to Sharon who was now wide eyed at the news. They had been betting on the two since Brooke started at this school. Everyone could tell they had the hots for each other.

Sharon sips her mug, listening to Katya ramble on about her day. With her light brown waves falling down slightly and hang down her already messy bun, Sharon could feel a ting of her cheeks warming up. She was filled with admiration for her for a quick moment. Sharon could only assume it was the brandy talking. “Anyways, how was your day?” Katya says, snapping Sharon to her attention.

She shrugs while finishing her cup. “Uneventful. Finished grading what I had and slowly cutting off late work. Only have a folder to finish.” Sharon smiles as she places her cup next to her. The buzz fully courses through her, making her lean her head against the wall more. “I just want to relax, feels like I’m a puppet with tight strings.”

“Why not hook up Alaska then? That always chills you out.”

Katya looks at Sharon who had instantly got more color on her face. She knew that the two would hook up all of last year but wasn’t sure why it had stopped. Katya cocks her head to the side and waits for a response that came slowly. “She has a boyfriend now. So I guess I’m out of luck.” She pouts her lips and looks back at Katya. Her buzzing mind had her hyperfixated onto Katyas eyes. The blue eyes looked brighter than normal, her cheeks looked sharper and her peachy lips appeared softer. She hadn’t realized she had started staring. “Well if you ever want some stress relief just let me know. I give some mean head.” Katya chuckles. Sharon nods, biting the edge of her lip, looking to her lap. Her heart was practically jumping out of her chest and her gut screaming to her to take up on the offer. It would be just what she needed to calm down.

“Would you actually? It’s been a rough week and that sounds really fucking good right about now.”

Katyas eyes bolt open to look at the black haired woman looking at her with those tired eyes she fawns over. She didn’t expect her to actually be down for the joking suggestion. Smiling nervously, Katya finally speaks up after clearing her throat. “I-uh- you mean right now? I can but are you- are you actually down?”

“I mean if you could? Or we could like plan a day to?”

Katya stands from where she sat and kneels between Sharon’s legs that laid out. She wasn’t joking to her about giving her good head and hell if she was interested, she was going to make it happen. “I’m serious. Are you certain?” She runs a hand down her skirt exposed leg and looks Sharon dead in her eyes. Sharon looks back as serious as tipsy glare could come across and bites her lip gently. “Just shut up and get to work.”

“Needy huh?” She jokes, lowering to kiss Sharons lower thigh, looking up at her with glazed over eyes. Those eyes got her everytime. Leaning her head back against the wall she watches as the beautiful brunette slowly kiss up her legs, changing between the two between kisses. She sighs softly as the gentle pecks become longer nips. Sharon’s body had quickly relaxed under the gentle kisses, smiling in bliss. She bites the corner of her lip as the trailing kisses make it to meer inches from underwear.

With Katyas head now underneath her black skirt, she takes a hold on Sharon’s thighs to pull her closer to her mouth. Sharon let’s out a shocked gasp and chuckles as her head slides down the wall. “Careful there tiger, I’m not going anywhere.” No response given, Sharon rolls her eyes. She trails in thought for a brief moment realizing that her favorite coworker is about to eat her out. She wasn’t sure if it was mostly risky or mostly hot. Either way, Sharon knew she was turned on by it.

Before the main course could even begin, the classroom door opens. Standing in the doorway was Katyas dear friend Courtney. It wasn’t the first time that Ms. Act had walked in on one of Sharon’s rendezvous’s so the sight she saw only half scared her. The Aussie leans against the door frame and makes direct eye contact with Sharon. “Oh- hey Court.”

Katya quickly moves from her position and turns to face Courtney. “I swear Shar, you fuck like a bunny. This is the fourth time this year.” She smiles cheekily. “Anyways if you two aren’t too busy.. can you come help me move so stuff around my room? Getting new furniture for the kids.”

Katya and Sharon look at each other and shrug, looking to Courtney. “Sure. Why not.”

“Perfect! See you two in five!” Courtney backs out of the room and scampers off for the two women to regain themselves.

#rpdr fanfiction #katya zamolodchikova #sharon needles #katya x sharon #branjie #teachers au #smut #lem0nb0y #lesbian au

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