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anakin-danvers · 4 years

Text

say anything

Din Djarin x fem!reader

gif credit to owner

Request: “Congratulations on 100, lovely! For the prompt lists, how about "One Hundred Ways to Say 'I Love You'" #2 and #48 for my man Din Djarin? I love your writing 💗” as requested by @obirain

Description: Traveling with the notorious bounty hunter known as The Mandalorian has its risks. However, nobody told you the biggest risk would be having to face your feelings for him.

Word count: ~3.4k how did this get to be so long?

Warnings: some angst, pining, fluff, mentions of alcohol consumption

A/N: Ahhh Aubrey I really hope you like this!! You know I love you very very much and your fics always blow me away so I hope this is to your enjoyment!! I’m very excited to have written for our love Din! I had this idea for some time now and decided to write it out with these prompts! Originally I put English words of endearment but then accidentally started using words of endearment in Spanish and I sort of rolled with it? Translation(s) down below 😁 Hope you all enjoy, and as always, lmk what you all think (I read everything you guys write, seriously, multiple times)! 🥰

Translations: cariño - sweetie

vida mia - my life

Taglist:

@mcu-padawan @obirain @corellians-only @valkyrieofthehighfae @littlevodika @catsnkooks @hounding-around @roseofalderaan @ohhellokenobi @goldenkenobi @snips-n-skyguy0501 @cherrykenobi @sacred-things @nobie @anakinswhore

join my taglist!

——

“Hey, put that down!” You reach over to take the canister of homemade paint from the small green hand.

A babble of protest is all you receive as a response.

“I told you we could paint if you didn’t make a mess. That was the deal, remember?”

Another babble. The hands reach out again, wanting to take the canister from you. You pull it out of their reach, giving the baby in front of you a stern look.

“No, no, kid. We’re doing it my way. Got it?”

A squeal serves as a response, and you nod, taking hold of one of the kid’s hands to do what you’d planned on doing.

“Alright, we’re going to dip your little hand here, okay? Then press it on the wood. We do that 5 more times and hopefully it’ll turn out the way I imagined...”

A childish laugh escapes the kid’s mouth as his hand comes in contact with the blue paint. You hold it up, letting some of the excess paint drip from it before placing it on the wood. After a few seconds pressed, you slowly peel away the blue and green hand, revealing three little fingers on the wood piece.

“Yes, that looks great. Good job, cariño.”

He gives you a happy coo in response, and you continue to put his hand in the paint to finish the project. After the last hand print, you take a hold of the wood, six, three-fingered hands creating the image of a blue flower.

“Beautiful. We’ll see if your dad likes it.”

Familiar footsteps come from behind you, and you know their owner can hear your conversation now.

“Might be good to put some color on this ship. Make it more of a home, don’t you think?”

The child coo’s at you, his eyes focused on the blue paint on his hand. He doesn’t understand why you’re saying what you are, but then again, it’s not exactly directed to him.

Wordlessly, the one your words are aimed at passes you, the Razor Crest’s door closing behind him. Once you know his back is to you, you allow your eyes to meet the armored body, traveling up from his boots, to his cape, to the back of the Beskar helmet.

You avert your gaze, focusing again on the child and art supplies before you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” you say, picking up the kid from his awaiting arms.

You take him to wash his hands of the paint, putting the wood to the side to dry and the other supplies in your designated art bag. You hum to yourself, the only noise within the ship besides the quiet lull now that the ship is traveling through hyperspace. After cleaning up the kid, you put him to bed, placing a small kiss on his forehead.

You’ve been traveling with the notorious bounty hunter known as the Mandalorian and his adopted kid for some time now. Din, the name he gave you when you’d asked him in a drunken spark of courage, took you in as a traveling companion and babysitter when they’d stopped by your recently destroyed shop on Agamar. It just so happened to be the bounty that Din was after that had destroyed your shop, so after giving him and the child your last salvaged fruit, you’d helped him track down the bounty. And now you’re here, traveling the galaxy together.

You step into the cockpit, notebook in one hand and pencil in the other. As before, without a word, you take the seat next to Din, crossing your legs on the seat and opening your notebook to your latest project. If there’s something that living in Agamar gave you it was time, time to think, to daydream, or in your case, draw your thoughts and dreams. When you joined Din and his kid, you only started drawing more, the different things in the galaxy giving you an endless supply of muses.

But your favorite muse is the one sitting next to you, the one that hadn’t said a word to you since you’d seen him in the morning. As if sensing your thoughts, Din finally speaks.

“Next stop is Pasanna.” The modulated voice is like music to your ears, and you don’t realized how much you’ve been missing it until now.

“For a quarry?”

He shakes his head, look still focused on the controls before him.

“No. I need some parts for the ship, and I know someone there who can sell more durable ones to me.”

You nod, some relief washing over you when you realize Din won’t be in danger. He turns his seat to face you, and the simple view of the front of his helmet makes your heart skip a beat.

“It’s warm there. I was thinking, maybe you can take the kid and explore. Visit some shops even.”

It’s warm there. It’s a simple statement to anyone, but to you, it means everything. Agamar is not a warm place, and having spent all your life there, you now prefer warmer climates. And Din knows that.

You can’t stop the smile that makes its way to your face.

“That sounds great, Din. I’d love that.”

“I thought you would,” he says, and you can feel the tips of your ears warm at his words.

Without realizing it, you move your notebook to hide the page you’re working on. Din has seen your drawings before, praised them even. But this drawing, it’s more personal, something you’re not sure you’re ready to share yet.

Thankfully, it seems as if Din doesn’t notice. Instead, his visor is directed towards your face. Even though you’re not able to see his eyes, the eyes you’ve only dreamt about seeing, you can feel his stare.

“You have some paint on your cheek.”

“Oh, I do?” You move your eyes away from him, a flustered mess before him. You bring your hand up to your cheek, trying to wipe away at where you think the paint is.

“Y/N, let me. I’ll do it for you.”

You couldn’t protest if you wanted to, because the moment his hand comes up to take a hold of your cheek you weren’t wiping, you freeze.

It’s not the first time he’s touched you. Living together for the past months meant you’d have to have touched each other before. The occasional brush of hands, the bumping into each other, the helping each other onto the ship after a long day. No, it’s not the first time he’s touched you. But it’s the first time he’s touched you like this.

His gloved thumb swipes at your cheek, once, twice, three times before you’re sure he’s taken the paint off. But his hand remains holding you, almost as if you’d crumble like the dried paint if it pulled away. And honestly, with the way your heart is thumping, that might be the case.

A small sigh escapes your lips, and you try to fight the need to close your eyes, to no avail. Your eyes close lightly, and the feelings you’ve been having for Din come rushing to you. If there’s one thing you know about yourself, it’s that your late night confessions are almost as dangerous as your drunken ones, and right now, you’re treading on thin ice.

“Din...” The name rolls out of your mouth as a plea, and you feel a shiver run down your body. “I...I need to tell you something, Din.”

“I think you need to rest.”

You open your eyes at his words, a small frown making its way to your face.

“But first I have to say something.”

His hand stays on your face, his thumb moving up to rub on the frown of your brows.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

Don’t have to say anything? Does that mean he knows?

“Din, I —“

“Please, Y/N, don’t say anything.”

And just like that, it feels as if the once comforting hand burns your skin. You pull your face away, his hand dropping. Before you feel like more of a fool, you get up, closing your notebook and tucking it under your arm.

“Wait, you don’t have to go.” Din makes a move to grab your hand, but you’re out of his reach before he can.

“Goodnight.”

“Y/N...”

You leave the cockpit without another word. You feel your face burn in embarrassment, embarrassment for how vulnerable you allowed yourself to be. Embarrassment for almost telling Din how you feel.

It isn’t until you’re in your cot that you let a few tears roll down your cheeks. You almost told him. Not that it would have any effect. It seems he knows already. But he doesn’t want you to tell him.

You bring your hand up to wipe the wetness of your cheeks. In an attempt to distract your mind, you open your notebook to draw. Only, you open it to the page you’d been working on. And staring back at you is the helmet that fills your day's thoughts. Of course, the moment you want to not think of Din, you open up your sketch of him.

Taking a deep breath, you flip the page, blankness staring back at you instead. Without another thought, you flip back to the drawing, your pencil coming down to continue defining the curve of his helmet. It moves on to sketch the shape of his arms, the flow of his cape, the curve of his boots. Before you know it, you’ve finished the sketch. You’re not going to deny how good it is. It’s so accurate, and all by memory.

I’ve stared at him long enough, I would be surprised if I didn’t sketch this by memory, you think.

You close your eyes and rub them, the tiredness getting to you. Closing the notebook, you tuck it into the bag of your other art supplies, and settle into your bed, letting the darkness of sleep consume you.

~~~

As you feel the warmth of the sun on your skin, you’re sure you’ll never get tired of the feeling. The comfort that comes with the sun’s warmth is one you’ll always cherish. And you’ll always be thankful that Din is the one that introduced you to that comfort.

An excited babble from the kid brings you back from your thoughts. You look over at where he’s following Din in his pod. You can’t help but smile at the sight, the warmth blooming in your chest better than the one coming from the sun. At Din’s insistence, he and the kid had gone to look for the ship parts so that you could get some time to wander the shops alone. That was a little over an hour ago, and now they found you near where you had departed.

You swing the backpack of things you’d bought over your shoulders, walking over to meet them halfway.

“Hey, cariño,” you say, reaching out to grab the little green bundle of joy. A happy giggle is given to you in response, and you pull him close to you.

“He missed his mom.”

You look over at Din, your cheeks burning at his choice of words. His mom. That was the first time you’d been called that.

“Well, I missed him and his dad very much.” Your eyes are focused on the kid, his smile grounding you as you feel the heat travel all the way up to your ears. You’re not looking at Din, you can’t look at him. After last night, you feel as if you’re setting yourself up for heartbreak. He doesn’t want you to tell him how you feel, yet, you bring it up again.

Silence is all you receive as a response from him. In a way, you’re thankful for it. At least that way you can concentrate on the baby talk instead.

And that’s how the rest of the walk to the Razor Crest is. You opt to carry the kid, talking with him the whole walk. Din is silent behind the two of you, the only indicator that he’s even there is the sound of his boots trudging in the sand.

Night is beginning to fall, and for how warm it was in the day, the night brings with it a chilling breeze. You’ve decided to stay in Pasanna until the morning. It was your suggestion, telling Din that there was no rush to your next destination, so might as well get some good rest. He’d agreed, little words exchanged between the two of you throughout the day, the tension from whatever that was which happened the night before still evidently present.

You’re sitting in the pilot chair of the Razor Crest. The kid is fast asleep, the day’s exploring having tired him out. You, on the other hand, can’t sleep, your thoughts flying through your mind at hundreds of parsecs per second.

Your eyes wander to the many buttons and switches on the control panel of the ship. You know how to use most of them, Din showing you how to use a feature on nights you’d both find yourselves in the cockpit. Usually, you’d sit in the seat slightly behind him, allowing him to sit in the main seat. But when he wanted to teach you a new feature, he’d let you take his seat, crouching next to you, so close, so patient when you were confused. To be fair, most of the times you were confused were due to him; he distracted you, the proximity never ceasing to take your breath away.

The protagonist of your thoughts is the one who takes you from them. You hear Din walk into the cockpit, the sound of his footsteps instantly catching your attention in the otherwise silent space. Impulsively, you turn to look at him, his visor already set on you.

“Din.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You’re not sure if it’s a question or a statement, but you nod anyways. Your hands begin to clam up, prompting you to rub your hands on your thighs.

“I had a nice time today. I...I appreciate you choosing to come to Pasanna. The warmth was nice.”

He takes a seat in your usual spot, a sigh heard through his modulator. It’s ironic, in a way. You’re sitting in the pilot’s seat, him in the secondary, but it doesn’t feel like you’re the one in control of the situation. No, it feels like you’re the ship itself, waiting for his directions to tell you where to go from here.

He doesn’t say anything, simply nods as a response. Since you’ve known Din, you’ve never seen him without his helmet on, and you’ve never questioned it. But you’d be lying if you didn’t wish you could see his face right now, the face that you’re sure is more beautiful than the way you could ever imagine it. You wish you could see his expressions to try to decipher his thoughts, know where exactly his eyes are focused on. Is it your forehead? Your nose? Perhaps directly at your eyes?

“I...I picked up a few things for you at the market.”

You blink a few times to once again refocus on the present. Only now do you notice he’s holding something, a rectangular object wrapped in sand brown cloth.

“Oh?” You’re not really sure what else to say, his actions foreign to you.

He gets up to walk to where you’re sitting, crouching in front of you and holding the wrapped object over. You take it from him, curiosity filling you at the anticipation of what this is. Your fingers unwrap the lightly bound cloth, revealing a simple wooden box. You look up at Din, and at his nod, you move to open it. At the contents inside, you gasp. Within the box, there are paint brushes, beautifully crafted ones of different sizes. And next to the brushes are a few small pots of paint. Real paint. Not the homemade one that you’ve been making work. No, this is real paint and it’s yours...

“It reminded me of you.”

At his words, you look up to meet his visor again. Now you really wish you could see his eyes. Try to get some idea as to what he’s thinking, where he’s looking. Is he looking at the confusion written on your face? Is he looking at the way your eyes suddenly feel wet with emotion? Is he looking at the faint frown of your brow?

Turns out he’s looking at your lips. They’re slightly parted, the absence of words leaving them in a waiting state. His gloved hand comes to take a hold of your chin, thumb swiping your bottom lip. All air leaves your lungs, and your tongue darts out to lick your lips to try to ease the dryness of mouth you’re experiencing. You hear Din let out a small groan at your actions, the sound only making your heartbeat speed up even more.

“I’ve seen your drawings.”

At his words, you feel heat rush up to your face. Has he seen the ones you’ve drawn of him?

“Have you seen…” You can’t even bring yourself to ask the question.

He nods. “The ones of me? I have seen them. You’re not the best at being discreet about it, you know?”

“Well, with such a beautiful muse, can you judge me?” You don’t realize what you’ve said until the words are out of your mouth. “Din…I—“

“Y/N, about last night—”

“You d-don’t have to say anything.” You try to repeat his words from the night before with the same coolness he’d said them, but find you can’t with the way he makes you feel.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he says, sighing lightly. His thumb comes up to touch your lip again, staying on it this time. “I’m just...I don’t know what this is. I’m not good with words, you know that. I just need you to know I care about you, I have for a long time. And I need you in my life. You and the kid, you’re all that matters to me.”

Taking a shaky breath, you bring your hands up to grab the one he’s holding your face with. Slowly, as if you’d frighten him with faster movements, you bring his hand away from your face, taking a hold of the glove and peeling it off his hand. Closing your eyes, you bring his hand up to your lips, kissing each finger. His thumb, his index, his middle, his ring, his pinky. Then you kiss his knuckles, again, one at a time. You don’t open your eyes until you’re done, meeting his visor staring back at you.

“I love you, Din, mi vida.”

And indeed he is your life. Him and the kid, just like he’d said.

“Close your eyes again.”

You do as he says, eyes closing but not letting go of his hand. He moves it away from you, putting your hands on your lap and bringing his up to cover your eyes. You hear the sound of something being placed on the ground, and before you can ask what it is, you feel lips connect with your own. They’re soft, warm. They’re Din’s.

He kisses you softly, and you can feel the caution behind it. He’s being careful, waiting to see how you react.

You can’t get enough of the feeling. Your hands fly up to take a hold of his head, bringing him closer to you and causing him to kneel instead of crouch. Din groans softly at your eagerness, his other hand coming to take a hold of your thigh. His large hand rubs up and down, all while your fingers comb through his hair.

His hair. His lips. You’re feeling what you never thought you would. And it feels so right.

The thought alone makes the fire burning inside you grow, and before you know it, you’re nipping lightly at his bottom lip. Another groan escapes Din, his hand on your thigh squeezing lightly. It’s your need for air that causes you to pull away, your eyes still shut tightly under his hand.

You wait there, heart beating, face warm, swollen lips tingling. When Din removes his hand from your eyes, you keep your eyes closed, not wanting to see anything he doesn’t want to show.

“You can open your eyes, sweet girl.”

You do, eyes meeting with the familiar visor once again. You can’t help but smile, a breathy laugh escaping your lips.

“I love you,” you say again.

“I love you too. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

That night, you sleep in Din’s cot with him. It’s small, and definitely not meant for two people. But it’s the most comfortable sleep you’ve ever had.

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nonopi · 4 years

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my robot’s keeper aka a Tidy Fallout: New Vegas AU

for @sidoopa, my Fallout Secret Santa 2020 giftee

my last gift for you! sorry it’s so late. I saw your post about courier Tidy and I had to do something!! I was so inspired!

---

Tidy could hear the insistent beeps of ED-E behind them, the mechanical whir stuttering every so often.

“Now is not a great time, ED-E. Keep it together.”

But they knew how prone the little eyebot was to overheating. Especially in a poorly ventilated and dilapidated building like this one. It didn’t matter how good the scavenging was here, what technical goodies could be found amongst the rubble, if ED-E wasn’t going to make it out with them, then it didn’t matter.

And Tidy was pretty sure they couldn’t carry a completely powered-down eyebot.

ED-E's beeps sounded pitiful, resigned to its fate. Or Tidy was humanizing the robot a bit too much. Really, anything was possible at this point.

There was a loud clash of something large and metallic hitting the tiled floor up ahead. Fear froze Tidy in their tracks, their ears straining to pick up more sounds and the direction they were coming from. It didn't take long to be rewarded with the thud of footsteps and coarse laughter rolling down the hall, crashing against their body like violent waves on a still beach. Fiends.

ED-E emitted a low, quiet beep as if to spur the courier into action. And the little robot was right, it was move now or move never again. Tidy backed up slowly, corralling ED-E towards the utility closet they passed a few moments before. If they could just hide in there until the Fiends lost interest or moved deeper into the building, they could make a break for it.

The closet wasn't very large, just enough room for a courier and their robot. But that spelled disaster for ED-E whose cooling fans immediately went into overdrive, rivaling the whoosh of the eyebot flotation devices. The heat generated from ED-E only worsened the situation, even causing Tidy to shed their duster.

It was clear this was not going to work. They were too noisy for the tiny room right off the main hallway. Tidy didn't even want to think what would happen if the Fiends found them. They definitely weren't the Legion, but Tidy knew trouble when they saw it. It only took a month out of the NCR territory to learn that.

So there was only one thing to do.

"ED-E, you need to power down."

ED-E beeped back, brushing it off as a joke. The robot knew as much as they did that powering off and then powering on again was never that simple. ED-E might never turn back on. And then where would they be?

"If you overheat, you'll be gone for good. Power down," Tidy paused for emphasis, wondering when exactly ED-E became more of a someone instead of a something. "I promise, I'll bring you back, ED-E."

Tidy waited for what felt like eons, straining to hear the Fiends roaming the building beyond the ambient noises of an eyebot trying to keep itself afloat. Finally, ED-E played its power down tune and slowly lowered to the floor beside the courier, its lights blinking out one by one.

Relief washed over Tidy, but it couldn't replace the fear at being discovered. So they put a protective hand on ED-E's chassis and waited, breath erratic and jaw clenched.

---

The Fiends had gotten bored and left hours ago, leaving Tidy and ED-E's powerless body alone inside the building. But they still hadn't moved from the utility closet, not because the accommodations were stellar or they were enjoying the peace and quiet, but because Tidy's fears were realized.

ED-E was not powering back on and they were too weak to carry ED-E to safety.

Tidy had often thought about upgrading ED-E. They had planned to slowly learn each module and component that made the robot tick and make improvements as they went along, hardware, firmware, and software. But now it had to be different. Tidy needed to identify the problems, troubleshoot them, and then fix them with what was available nearby. No luxurious workbench or items that could be sourced over time. It had to be here and now.

Tidy sighed knowing that they had a long road ahead of them, but it was worth it for ED-E.

Besides, they had done it once before in Primm and whatever Tidy knew then as a younger, more inexperienced version of themself couldn’t hold a candle to what they knew and were today.

---

The passage of time flows differently when troubleshooting. It was too easy to get lost in identifying the problem and finding the correct solution, not because it was fun to “win” and reap the rewards of hours of work, but because no one could anticipate the journey between problem and solution. It was exploration within a set of confines, learning just as much about yourself as you would about the environment and the systems that dwell within. Addicting, but safe. Nothing like exploring the wasteland.

But this situation was on the other side of the bottle cap. Tidy was working against time. Tidy was working against the notion that the Fiends would come back. Or something worse. But mostly Tidy was working against the feeling that they would have to choose when to abandon ED-E to take care of themself.

They were on their last bottle of clean water. Only trail mix that was heavy on the pinyon nuts had sustained them. Their eyes felt dry and heavy at the same time. The situation wasn’t looking great.

But they were so close to figuring it out.

A Programmer’s Digest lay open but discarded on Tidy’s lap in favor of their PipBoy. They had successfully downloaded ED-E’s boot logs and while it was not favorable to stare at text on the tiny PipBoy screen, the logs were infinitely more telling than any article or how-to column that any magazine or book could provide. Maybe with the exception of the Eyebot Duraframe users manual, if that even existed.

After multiple attempts at rebooting ED-E, Tidy noticed that it seemed as though ED-E was beginning to power up. Lights flickered, the hard drive and processor both came to life, it even sounded as if it was routing power to its plasma thrusters. But as quickly as the spark had come, it left. And the logs reinforced this theory. Something was preventing ED-E from completely booting up. Was there not enough power? Was it stuck in some recursive algorithm? A boot loop? Or maybe one of the system checks failed?

As Tidy scrolled through log lines, cryptic wording prevented them from understanding everything that occurred. Weird RobCo jargon. Or weird jargon from people who lived 200 years ago. It was anyone’s guess. But it was enough to see the timestamps and to see the designation of each log line - INFO, WARNING, ERROR, FATAL. Like a weird dance, Tidy followed their perceived steps of how each log line designated ERROR or even WARNING came to be.

29-04-2282_22:05:55 - ERROR - Unexpected system state. In state CalibrationEnd but tesla cannon 423334 has not been calibrated.

29-04-2282_22:06:02 - ERROR - Position cannot be triangulated. Dumping data to log file: ./logs/duraframe_position/position.log

29-04-2282_22:06:48 - WARNING - Cannot establish outbound connection to RobCo auto-update servers. Please update this unit manually.

29-04-2282_22:06:49 - ERROR - Tesla Cannon custom configuration file is corrupted. Reverting to default configuration.

All of these messages seemed concerning, but not something that ED-E’s software couldn’t recover from. The log file continued, like the software was just moving on, content to resume its boot sequence. Tidy blinked away tiredness and the strain from staring at the screen for far too long. It would be easy to admit defeat here, rest their eyes, rest their mind. But they knew sleep would not come when the mind could still be occupied with possible solutions, so they pushed on.

It was one word they missed on their initial perusal of the log files. FATAL. It would’ve been so easy to find on a terminal, with a keyboard and mouse. But here in the wasteland, in the hollow shell of an old world, Tidy felt lucky for even seeing it at all.

29-04-2282_22:07:33 - FATAL - Plasma thruster position 1 misaligned. Damage to the hull imminent. Powering down. Please contact your local RobCo personnel if this problem persists.

This was the most concrete lead Tidy had seen so far, though the other issues would probably have to be addressed at some point down the road. But they could think about that after realigning ED-E’s plasma thruster. Which was something they had never done before, but could it be harder than plasma weapon maintenance? They were going to find out.

Tidy set to work rummaging around the room to find tools to open ED-E’s chassis. It was apparent that the utility closet they were in was not one for dismantling and repairing delicate machinery. All the screwdrivers that remained were too large for the job, so Tidy settled on trimming down one of their spare bottlecaps using a pair of tin snips they had found in a toolbox.

It was a delicate process, one that Tidy’s hands were much too shaky for. They could only brace their arm on their bent leg and keep trying because this might be it. Just remove the lower chassis and figure out what a misaligned plasma thruster looks like then figure out how to fix it. That’s all. And don’t lose any screws. Physically or mentally.

One by one, the screws piled up neatly on Tidy’s duster until they were able to shift the rounded metal plate out of its place to reveal ED-E’s innards. They immediately felt elated by the small victory but also disgusted at what they saw. A mess of everything. Tidy was no stranger to seeing the insides of terminals or taking apart their weapons or using the insides of one thing to fix another. But this was something else, clearly designed around things they didn’t understand and maybe the engineers didn’t really understand either.

But at least the plasma thrusters were clearly labelled 1 and 2.

They kind of looked like toasters without the chassis flush with their vents. Toasters were familiar. Now it was just a matter of deciding what features number 2 had that number 1 did not. On the outside they looked the same. So that was good, Tidy reasoned. With a few more screws removed, the plasma thruster housings were off and a bunch of warning stickers sat in their place, faded with time but still clearly visible. As if the existence of plasma wasn’t enough of a warning on its own.

But looking beyond the pale yellow warning signs, it was clearly evident what the problem was. Plasma thruster position 2’s exhaust columns were as straight as ever, a pinnacle of metalwork. Plasma thruster position 1’s exhaust columns were askew, to say the least. No wonder ED-E was prone to overheating. How long had the little eyebot been living this way?

Tidy grabbed a set of pliers and tried to bend the metal back to its original position. Not as flimsy as they looked apparently. And getting any more forceful might result in broken exhaust columns, a situation Tidy didn’t even want to think about since the end was in sight. Defeat at their own hand was not an option.

But maybe less screws was an option? Removing some screws along the base could allow them to pivot the exhaust columns enough to realign them with the housing. And a well-placed piece of steel wedged between the alignment brackets could secure the new configuration in place, at least temporarily until they could get back to a workbench and Raul’s guidance.

With a rush of adrenaline, Tidy’s hands worked just as fast as their mind to put their plan into place and reset the housing and chassis. They hoped this worked. They didn’t have anything left to give after this.

After everything was back where it belonged and three extra screws weighed heavily in Tidy’s pocket, they rolled ED-E carefully out into the quiet hallway. They paused to listen again for any signs of life beyond the scuttle of rodents and roaches. Nothing. With a final deep breath, Tidy pressed ED-E’s power cycle button. “This better work.”

Slowly and surely just as it had all the times before, the eyebot began its initialization process. Lights flickered, the processor and hard drive whirred to life, and the plasma thrusters began to calibrate. Tidy held their breath, afraid the outcome of this startup would be like all the other ones. But the plasma thrusters never powered down and neither did the rest of ED-E. After what felt like hours, ED-E played its startup tune.

Success.

“ED-E?”

The eyebot beeped back happily, as if it had just awoken from a nice nap.

#fosecretsanta2020 #fallout #sidoopa #gift 3 of 3! finally #i hope this was okay and not too out of character!#and sorry if it's dreadfully boring #i look at software logs for a living #i'm very passionate

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

TLTNL- PROFESSOR UMBRIDGE

Harry knew he was supposed to be reading next, but he was reluctant to take the book from Sirius. He could already feel the bad beginning to the start of his latest school year, and it wasn't comforting he couldn't find much in him promising it would get better before it got worse. Still, with nothing else he could think to do, that yearning still present within him to learn all of his memories and be whole prevailed more than any 'feeling' as he cracked open his start.

Seamus dressed and was storming out the door the next morning before Harry had even found his glasses. He snarked as the hem of his robes vanished that Seamus must fear being around Harry too much will cause him to be a nutter.

"Is this something we should be worried about!" Sirius yelped, already trying to scramble madly away from Harry. "A little warning sooner next time!"

"Too late, everyone in here's already round the bend," Remus snorted.

"I resemble that," James snickered, while Lily wanted to protest but still had yet to deny any claims she hadn't begun dating James with all her sanity intact either so didn't press.

Harry rolled his eyes affectionately at the lot of them, he never grew tired of watching them poke fun at these things.

Dean tried to say he was just, but he trailed off without coming up with anything and so left after his best friend.

"I could never live with such a thing," Sirius gasped.

"Only because you always have to have the last word," Remus rolled his eyes.

"My point exactly," Sirius proved Moony's own point.

Neville and Ron gave Harry, 'it's their own problem,' kind of looks, but Harry wasn't exactly consoled. How much more of this would he have to take?

Lily fidgeted with unease that none of them had an actual answer for him. What she wouldn't give just to know this all had to have a happy ending. What exactly had Harry left in his own time after all? Who's to say this didn't drag on for years to come, he had after all arrived clearly in the heat of some battle...and she both wished and was grateful she couldn't dwell on this more.

Hermione began to ask him what was wrong the moment she saw him, saying he looked- but cutting herself off by saying for heaven's sake!

"What exactly does that look like?" James asked as he eyed Harry.

"Sounded like exasperated, which he probably was already with Seamus' attitude," Lily sighed.

She was staring at the sign the twins had put up last night, only just now reading it and finding it a want add for test subjects to a virtually painless job for a little monetary compensation. Below this was a warning that all applicants undertook this at their own risk.

"Just what are they getting up to?" James demanded at once with an eager grin.

"Sounds to me like they're trying to find further test subjects than themselves," Lily arched a brow with trepidation. Testing it on themselves was one thing, but other people? She did suppose she could see the pro's of it, at least while doing this at school they could rely on Madam Pomfrey to fix any screw ups and it was smart to see if anyone other than themselves would have side effects before mass selling their things like they so intended doing...but still, this just felt wrong no matter the good spin she tried putting on it. Then again, she'd never looked into how most normal magical objects were tested and distributed, that was in fact a section she'd be coming to very soon in her work, so this could be interesting at least.

"I like that they put the warning directly below 'virtually painless," Remus snickered.

"Open honesty at least," Sirius said with absolute chipper.

She stormed over at once to take the sign down,

"Hey!" James yelped in protest at once. "Merlin she's as bad as their mother! Who's she to be doing that."

"A prefect," Remus reminded him like his friend had gone temporarily daft. "That really was stupid of them to just post in the common room like that, I am positive that is somehow against school rules."

Sirius kept going as if Remus hadn't even spoken, "I know, leave them to their own devices, it's not affecting her."

Lily really wondered why Remus bothered at some point, and by the look on his face, so did he.

snapping that they'd have to talk to them about this.

"Who's this they?" Remus did agree with his friends scandalized looks about that. "The sign was stupid on their part, but Hermione really needs to get a grip trying to drag Ron into her problem with the twins."

"I love that Moony always agrees with us," James smirked, while Remus rolled his eyes, and Lily just rubbed her forehead at her idiots.

Ron looked positively alarmed.

"I would to," Harry winced, "I've never even had older brothers, but the idea of telling one off sounds ludicrous. Let alone those particular two."

He demanded why at once, and she snapped they were prefects! It was their duty to stop this kind of thing!

"No," Sirius snorted, "your job is to pretend in front of the teachers to act like you're looking after the first years, and then go about your life like everyone else."

"I think Hermione needs to reread her instruction manual," James agreed.

"They didn't get an instruction manual," Harry frowned in confusion.

"Exactly," Sirius concluded.

Ron said nothing, but Harry could tell he would not be cheering Hermione on when this came up again. They were starting their way down to breakfast now as Hermione turned her attention back to Harry, asking why he'd looked so angry?

Ron explained for him Seamus had called Harry out about You-Know-Who.

"Why didn't you answer?" James said in surprise.

"I was trying to think of how to say everything on my mind, Ron just cut right to the chase," Harry said.

"Sometimes you think too much," Sirius rolled his eyes, he'd never had a problem telling his mates whatever was on his mind.

Hermione, who Harry had expected to react angrily on his behalf, sighed while telling them Lavender had said much the same thing.

"Really?" Lily's tone held full disgust. "One of Trelawney's little pets, who believes every ridiculous thing that comes out of that woman's mouth, has the gall to claim you a liar?"

"Of all the unbelievers in this, you'd think those of Trelawney's type would enjoy the prospect of more death and mayhem to come," James sniffed angrily.

"Think she'll change her tune the second Trelawney says something about it in class?" Remus grumbled.

"That, or she'll start disbelieving the woman," Sirius shrugged, now looking almost curious to see how this could play out.

Harry snapped at her if the two had a nice long chat about him then?

"Oh yes, I'm so sure you come up in between the pillow fights and manicures," Lily frowned at him. "Hermione's never shown to be on good terms with them, cut her some slack."

Harry did look properly chagrined for that, he had felt instantly bad for lashing out at Hermione.

Hermione returned calmly she'd in fact told her dorm mate to shut her mouth, and she'd appreciate it if Harry would quit jumping down her throat before hearing otherwise. Ron and her were on his side.

Harry looked even more glum now that he couldn't properly apologize to his friends like they deserved. He had indeed been taking every moment to rag on them and could properly realize away from the moments they hadn't deserved much of any of it. He owed his friends a lot, and not just for being there while he vented, very vocally.

Harry felt the awkward pause before he apologized.

Lily at least looked happy for the apology, but Harry didn't look any better, still feeling that growing ache more every day to see his friends again, to know that they were okay.

Hermione brushed on after the acknowledgement and instead brought up what Dumbledore had said last year.

Harry and Ron gave her a blank look for trying to remember such a thing while Hermione sighed.

"I feel like that's a very common occurrence we don't get to hear enough of," Sirius snipped to lighten the mood back up, and it worked as Harry rolled his eyes at him again.

Hermione launched into a replication of Dumbledore's words about trust and friendship making them all stronger when they stood together. Ron looked on in admiration how she remembered things like that.

"How does she remember stuff like that verbatim!" Remus went wide eyed in surprise.

"Hermione really is a gem," Lily could only think to answer with pure indulgence.

Hermione's response was just to say she listened, but Ron replied so did he and he couldn't recall word perfect speeches!

Hermione went on loudly over him,

"I really am surprised she didn't take the moment to rub it in," James rolled his eyes.

Harry frowned right back and said, "she doesn't really that much, considering how much smarter than us she is. She was trying to make a point, not let Ron distract her with an argument."

that You-Know-Who had only been back two months and was already causing strife in between their own houses-

Ron cut in to say Harry had said it best last night, no one was going to be getting chummy with Slytherins any time soon.

"We're not talking about Slytherins though, we're talking about people from our own house. Good place to start before moving on," Sirius sighed with some sympathy for what Hermione was saying.

Harry frowned at him in surprise, but then he reflected none of the Marauders had really made it a point to be Slytherin haters other than just the one outstanding student. If Sirius, who'd even had family in the house he was defending, could say such a thing, Harry wished he really had taken some more time at some point to look beyond Malfoy.

Hermione snapped she still thought they should try for some school unity.

Sirius made a face he'd said the exact same thing as Hermione, while James made the exact same face at him for it as well.

They reached the Great Hall, where a group of fourth-year Ravenclaws spotted Harry and huddled closer together while eyeing him, as if fearing he'd attack those on the fringes.

"You mean you don't!" James demanded. "Harry, what on earth do you do with all your free time then?"

Harry couldn't help laughing at their antics again, he couldn't seem to grow tired of watching them make light of this.

Harry sarcastically pointed out he would really be going out of his way to make friends with people like that.

"He's got them both there," Remus murmured in agreement.

They went into the Great Hall themselves, and still the first thing they noticed was Hagrid's absence.

Hermione quietly tried to offer that perhaps Dumbledore hadn't said anything about it was because he was trying not to draw attention to Hagrid being gone.

"That is actually impossible to anyone second year and older," James sighed. None of them had been on more than passing hello's to Hagrid themselves and they would have noticed a thing like this.

The boys didn't get a chance to respond as Angelina made her approach to Harry, asking if he had a good summer, then immediately rushing on before he answered,

Lily was already frowning at this act, it was like Oliver was back again already.

declaring she'd been made Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.

James's face puckered with disappointment again. It had obviously not been Harry, nor the twins or he was sure that would have been mentioned, who'd gotten the badge so that had left one of those three girls. Still, he hoped Angelina at least made Harry co-captain or something, he was really hoping his son would get this treat before he left school.

Harry congratulated her at once, thinking to himself at least her pep talks would be more stimulating than Wood's ever had.

Sirius nodded enthusiastically even as he bounced in place for excitement upon hearing of Quidditch again, it had been gone far too long!

Angelina thanked him before moving on to say they needed a new Keeper for the team of course, and practices were at five on Friday. She wanted to be sure the whole team could attend, to see how the new person would mesh.

"That's standard those, isn't it? I don't see why she-"

"Shhh!" James hushed his wife as Harry kept going with definite fondness, that was only a mask, as his hand absently began fidgeting again that still no one noticed as he was holding a lofty book.

Harry agreed at once, causing Angelina to smile at him before she departed. Ron at once said how good it could be to have some new blood on the team.

"You think Ron'll try out!" Sirius yelped with joy.

"He did get a new broom," Remus agreed.

"It's always a thrill to be playing with your friends," James smiled at the thought.

Harry felt the now familiar pain of a memory trying to tell him something for these comments, but he wasn't entirely sure as they seemed very mixed, so he had not a clue if Ron did or not.

Breakfast was in full swing by the time owls arrived, but Harry didn't bother looking for anything, no news could have happened that Sirius would send along in just twenty-four hours.

Sirius still frowned sadly while Harry couldn't see. He wished he was sending his godson daily owls considering the years he'd gone without regular correspondence, if only as a reminder to his pup there was someone out there for him, it didn't always have to be 'new'. It's not like he was doing anything in that old place anyways but moping about, why couldn't he be sending a veritable books worth of letters to Harry full of anything and everythings? 'Probably because it wasn't safe,' a Dumbledore like voice in his head pointed out, and Sirius was quick to stop thinking about that.

Hermione did get her copy of the Daily Prophet, much to Harry's disgust as he asked her about it while she paid her Knut.

James shook his head fondly as he still remembered Harry's first interaction with this and asking what a Knut was. His son had come a long ways.

Harry had unsubscribed his.

Hermione said darkly it was still worthwhile to know what the enemy was saying.

"That's smart, I'll give her," Remus said grudgingly with still plenty of despair.

She continued reading it all through breakfast until McGonagall came around with their class schedules, and Ron at once protested of their Monday! History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, and then double Defence Against the Dark Arts!

"I think I just died a little inside!" James yelped in disgust.

The only tiny speck of good Lily could find in that was, "well, least the worst of them should all be gotten out of the way early." When that did nothing to erase anyones disgust, even her own, she also tried, "and we won't have long to wait to hear more about that Umbridge. I'm still confounded of why she's there."

"I'd still be happier pretending none of them exist," Sirius groaned, he didn't need to sit in on that woman's class to even guess she could be any better than that other lot.

All of their worst teachers back to back! The twins had better hurry up with those Skiving Snackboxes, because Ron wanted a years supply.

Said brothers arrived in that moment, gaping in shock at hearing a Hogwarts prefect wanted any such thing as skipping lessons.

"Those ones they do," Remus crinkled his nose in disgust.

"Does anyone else smell a regular three day weekend becoming a habit?" Sirius agreed conversationally.

Ron showed off his schedule, and George instantly agreed that was worth something, then offered him some Nosebleed Nougat cheap.

"Why's it cheap?" Harry heard all four of them mutter suspiciously at once.

Ron at once asked why it was cheap with suspicion.

Harry didn't bother to hide his snicker as he continued.

Fred happily explained that was because you'd keep bleeding until you ran out, they hadn't found an antidote for that one yet.

"So how are they still alive?" Lily asked in genuine concern.

"Just what do they test them on before themselves to know this?" Remus agreed uneasily, as he didn't see the twins being so cruel as to go capturing animals to do this to, so what then?**

Ron had to deliberate for a moment before deciding he'd take the lessons.

"I'm not sure I'd come to the same conclusion," Remus muttered.

Now Hermione turned sharp eyes on them at the mention of those Snackboxes,

"Damn, it's extra worse cause they brought this up themselves," Sirius groaned.

and at once snapped at them they couldn't be finding testers from the Gryffindor noticeboard.

George asked says who, and Hermione said her, and Ron!

Ron at once snapped to leave him out of this.

"She really should have though," James agreed.

"Is it so terrible to ask for backup from him?" Lily asked honestly. She didn't think Hermione should be dragging Ron in either, but now she had, so Ron could at least nod along or something.

"It is if Ron doesn't agree," Remus frowned, "and he's never said anything for or against the twins and how they act, so Hermione shouldn't have been saying anything for Ron."

Fred paid her no mind as he began eating some of his breakfast, saying she'd be begging them for her own soon.

Hermione asked what possible reason she could have for that?

"She should know that answer better than anyone," James groaned in disgust.

"OWL's, and not the friendly bird kind," Sirius huffed.

George stated OWL year of course, they had their examinations at the end of this year. Their nose would be pressed to so many books, they'd be rubbed raw.

"Oh how I wish they were still joking," Remus sighed as he rubbed his nose.

Fred agreed many in their year had breakdowns because of the stress, Patricia Stimpson kept fainting.

"I knew a Patricia Bishop who had the habit of studying under the chairs," Sirius chimed in. "I don't understand how that helped her study, but she was never without her favorite study spot."

George agreed Kenneth Towler had come over with boils,

"Gavin Crowley actually pissed himself right before our Transfiguration one," James snickered in remembrance.

"I thought that was because he'd come running up because he'd thought it was Herbology that hour instead," Remus reminded.

Sirius whistled innocently, no one had ever been sure why the boy could get something so confused, and they never had.

before Fred corrected that was their doing with some Bulbadox powder.

All four boys snorted with mirth while Lily shook her head in exasperation at the lot of them.

George nodded in remembrance now, saying it was hard to keep track sometimes.

Remus opened his mouth, winced and shut it, but then realized Harry had seen anyways so managed to say, "our list was made once, extensively, as an end of year project for us. I hope the twins get to reminisce as well one last time." He finished by stammering just a bit, and Harry kept going a bit more loudly to try and erase the awkward moment for them even if he did truly appreciate how much they continued trying to tell him things about their past even when they involved that person.

Then George got back on track saying how much of a nightmare fifth year was.

"Seventh's still worse," Sirius forced out in an attempt to change the subject as well.

"My favorite year though," James stated with a dreamy look at his wife, at least momentarily erasing his own dark thoughts with her flaming red hair. Lily simply gave him an affectionate smile back.

At least, if you cared about results.

Ron recalled they hadn't, having only gotten three OWLs each.

Neither was concerned, saying their future lay outside academic achievements.

"Well they don't really need them, running their own store," James chuckled.

"I don't understand why," Lily was frowning at the number. "They're clearly smart, why so few."

"Clearly it was because they only looked for what they needed, and didn't try to learn every stupid trivial thing we were supposed to be learning," Sirius rolled his eyes.

"I envy them," Remus agreed.

They had seriously debated even coming back for their last year,

"How would they know what I was thinking?" Sirius asked innocently, while Remus snorted and muttered, "doesn't take a genius to know something you were saying since your first year."

since they now had- but George stopped talking abruptly at a warning look from Harry. George had been fixing to mention the Triwizard winnings Harry had given them.

"They're not that stupid," James rolled his eyes, "they'd know better than to be saying that in front of Ron and Hermione."

"Who knows, maybe they thought Harry had told them," Sirius shrugged.

So George hastily finished now that they had their OWL results.

"That was true of their sixth year though," Remus sighed in disappointment. "I really would have hoped they were better on the spot liars."

"Yes, but even running their own business, it would still give them just a little bit better of an edge to have completed school," Lily reasoned what she was sure the twins were doing.

Harry gave a laugh, and honestly had no clue why.

Fred agreed they had no need for their NEWTs, but they didn't think their Mum could stand them leaving school after what Percy had done.

"A travesty that still no one saw coming," Sirius said in disgust.

So they were going to spend this year doing marketing research.

"That's brilliant," James chuckled.

"Though they seem to have found already that simply making your own needs supplies their demand for others," Sirius snickered.

Hermione asked where they even planned on getting the gold for their ideas.

"Uhoh," all four of them muttered while Harry started flushing in embarrassment.

Harry did not look at the twins. His face felt hot,

"As subtle as ever my boy," James snorted.

he deliberately dropped his fork and dived down to retrieve it.

"No, no," Sirius looked appraisingly at Harry, "try fainting, it's much more dramatic and puts you out of the conversation just as well."

Harry gave him a hard nudge and tried to ignore his still flushed face as he kept going.

He heard Fred tell ask no more questions and she'll get no lies.

"And what is to stop them just lying, or not answering at all?" Remus snorted at such a departure.

"I guess they were worried Hermione would see through it, so they decided to be vague instead," James was still laughing.

Then the two left, but Ron and Hermione were still staring in confusion at each other as they tried to understand this. Ron even saying how they seemed to talk like they had this money, they'd bought him those dress robes over the summer but had never given any information about it.

Harry tried to hop topics from this dangerous subject by asking if this year really would be the worst yet.

"Subtle as drowning someone in your own cauldron," James still hadn't stopped giggling excessively.

"What?" Harry tried to defend, "it had just come up!"

"Don't even try Harry, you won't do any better in here," Lily smiled as the boys kept their shoulders shaking at his attempts.

Ron was easily distracted, saying how his brothers always went on about how important this year was, it defined the job you could apply for and everything.

"That's not entirely accurate, though it is the standard," Lily sighed.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked at once as what he found was a real change of subject.

Lily happily explained over the boys grumbling he'd find this out for himself later, "if you hadn't taken the classes you can still take the exams at the end of the year, but you have to do solitary study of three years of material all on your own. That way you're not entirely deprived of the job you want, but Merlin do you have to work extra hard for it."

"Hence earlier complaints of when this career advice happens," Sirius sighed.

They got career advice this year on all this at least. Harry asked what his two friends wanted to do when they left school, and Ron said he still nurtured the idea of being an Auror.

"I'm sure all boys think that at some time in their life," James said fondly, he was only just now growing shaky on his own idea of one.

Harry agreed at once, while Hermione kept herself vague, saying she'd like to do something worthwhile.

"Just what does she think of as worthwhile?" Lily asked with honest curiosity.

"I'm guessing something to do with politics, her and her views on everything," James said with only a touch of sarcasm that time.

Harry defended Aurors were worthwhile, and while Hermione agreed, they weren't the only worthwhile job. She even began speculating if she could go farther with SPEW...

James nodded as if his point had just been made.

Harry and Ron went back to their breakfast at once to try and ignore her, being successful until they made it to History of Magic, by common consent the most boring subject of wizardkind.

"Only because of the most boring teacher to have ever lived, and unlived!" Sirius groaned.

Professor Cuthbert Binns was the ghost teacher with a voice that had the effect to put anyone to sleep under any condition, let alone reading in a monotone over his notes. Harry and Ron had only scraped by so far by copying Hermione's notes when she was in a good mood, as she alone seemed the only person to resist the allure of sleep and kept dutiful notes as always.

"A truly magical talent in itself I've yet seen replicated," Remus smiled.

Today was no different, as Harry heard just enough of the giant wars to think this could have actually been interesting in another person's hands,

"Everyone thinks that at least a dozen times during their school life," Sirius agreed.

before his brain disengaged and he ended up playing hangman with Ron all class.

"Who won?" James asked.

"Ron, nine out of ten games," Harry sighed. "He kept using names of chess strategies and really stumping me."

Hermione shot them filthy looks out of the corner of her eye.

"You'd think she'd be used to it by now," Lily giggled.

As class ended, she snapped at them how they'd feel if she deprived them of her notes this year altogether.

Sirius gave a wild gasp at once, nearly screeching in Harry's ear, "is she mad!"

Harry managed to push him away in time to save his ear drum as the man kept going, "the only reason anyone survives that class is because of the few dedicated students who take the time to self study and share their own notes instead of listening to Binns at all! Hermione could be doing a real undermining of the schools system to be refusing to help this trend!"

"I'm sure some Ravenclaws would pin her down and steal them if it came to that," Remus reassured with backlit eyes.

Lily noticed, opened her mouth to ask, but Harry was trying to keep going while his hearing was still intact.

Ron at once snapped they'd fail their OWLs because of that, could she live with that on her conscience?

"Ah guilt trips, always a saving grace," James nodded.

She still said they deserved it, asking if they even tried?

"We did at first," Harry defended half heartedly.

"Though I'm positive that ended before you and Hermione even became friends," Sirius snorted, to which Harry didn't bother denying, more like it had ended in the first week.

Ron said they did to, they just didn't have her cleverness to keep up with him, go on and rub that in.

"I think that's the nicest thing he's ever said to her," Remus chuckled.

Hermione called that rubbish, though she looked more mollified as they went out into the courtyard for a short break.

"Compliments will get you everywhere," Sirius agreed wisely.

It was drizzling, so though most of the areas were crowded in a huddle under the school ledges and such, the three found a tree they could find some solitary under while discussing how horrid Snape was going to be on their first day. They got as far as agreeing it would be an extremely tricky potion to trip them up so soon back,

"I'm sure no one was arguing that point," James huffed.

when Cho Chang arrived, alone.

Lily's face brightened as much as Harry's for this happening again, though for an entirely different reason as she adored hearing about Harry's first crush. The boys just couldn't seem to find a reason to stop their laughing this chapter, and weren't trying very hard.

This was most unusual for her, especially twice in a row, as Harry remembered the agony of always spotting her around her friends last year during the Yule Ball lead up.

"Agony is surely the wrong word," Remus tried to say with a straight face.

"More like spectacle," Sirius didn't even bother as he finished.

Harry said hi at once, being mentally grateful he at least wasn't covered in Stinksap this time.

"There's the bright side!" James chipped in.

Cho was clearly thinking the same thing as she mentioned he'd got that stuff off.

"Did she expect him to live in it?" Sirius asked while Harry managed to nudge him even harder, trying to read as fast as possible now.

Harry stuttered out a yeah, forcing a grin like that had somehow been funny instead of mortifying, and tried to ask how her summer had gone.

"That's good, start casual," Sirius nodded, while Harry was now eyeing a pillow with deep contemplation as he forced himself to get through this.

He regretted the moment the words were out, as Cho had spent much of last year being Cedric's boyfriend, which meant her personal attachment to him had probably made her summer holidays as good as Harry's.

Then they all winced as that hadn't explicitly crossed their mind, but at least Harry's face returned to normal color as the boys stopped smirking for a moment.

Her face tightened as she began it was all right, but was saved from saying anything else by Ron asking if that was a Tornado's badge she was wearing?

"There's Ron, always managing to break awkward silence," Remus approved around James already snorting again.

Cho agreed it was, and Ron asked when? Since they started winning?

"Merlin, least my friends weren't this bad," James winced on Harry's part for Ron's poor choice there.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lily rolled her eyes, "your friends are just as bad as you were." Remus and Sirius didn't even bother to pretend to be offended. Though she finished with pitying eyes on Harry, "but Ron really isn't helping there."

Cho gave him the lofty answer she'd had this since she was six, then turned back to Harry and said she'd see him around. Harry watched her walk away while contemplating throwing himself in the lake while Hermione rounded on Ron, calling him tactless.

"Least someone there has an idea of what's going on," Remus giggled.

Ron defended himself he was sick of people always just jumping teams to whoever was winning at the time,

"I do believe that though," Sirius nodded, happily switching topics to Quidditch much to Harry's relief.

it didn't make them real fans, but while Hermione snapped back that wasn't the point, Harry had to cut in over their bickering for the bell.

"Now there's an accomplishment," James laughed.

They didn't stop sniping at each other all the way down to Potions, leaving Harry free to wonder if he'd ever have a proper conversation with Cho that didn't end with him wanting to leave the country.

"I really don't see that one as being so bad," Remus said fairly.

"That's because we have comparisons of Prongs many worse times," Sirius reminded. "In most kids cases, that really wasn't the best."

"And what do you know about that?" Lily snorted, "you don't fall under anything resembling usual."

Sirius opened his mouth to retaliate while Harry cut them both off, he'd had enough practice.

It was of some comfort though, that was twice now she'd sought him out.

"There's the bright side," Remus nodded eagerly.

"More than Lily ever did," James said with a tragic look at his wife.

"Trust me Potter, you would not have enjoyed the reasons at those times I was getting you alone," Lily tried to say in a threatening voice, but everyone turned away when it came out too flirtatious so they wouldn't have to see James' face.

She'd been Cedric's girlfriend, so she could have every reason to hate him, that he'd come out alive. Yet she had definitely been looking in on him those past two times, with nothing resembling hostile...

"Hadn't even crossed my mind she'd think that," Sirius frowned at the idea. "You think too much."

"So you keep saying," Harry muttered, wishing his thoughts would be displayed a little less at least on this topic.

"At least your reasoning is sound," Remus said happily, "so I do agree, I think she's got a thing for you back."

"Yeah?" Harry asked with honest hope. The idea was certainly lingering in his mind, he just knew his crush on Cho had to go somewhere this year, but it really was only mild interest. For some reason as he gave a glance at his ring, nothing was sticking...

Remus didn't want to get his hopes up too much in case he was wrong as he gave a simple, "sure," as response, but Harry seemed happy enough as he kept going, even onto Snape's class.

Harry was almost in a good mood by the time the dungeon door swung close behind them.

"And that's really saying something," James snorted.

They sat in the back as usual, Harry able to perfectly ignore Ron and Hermione's huffs of irritation lingering.

"I think that's their version of flirting," Sirius muttered as he eyed the couple who were now holding hands.

Snape called for attention, which was entirely unnecessary as silence had wrung the moment he entered.

"I am convinced that's because they're all transfixed by the proportions of his nose regarding the rest of his face," Remus muttered under his breath, causing Sirius to snort.

Snape prowled to the front and began with a lecture on the coming OWLs. He had no hopes that everyone in here would earn an Acceptable, but those who failed in at least this task would suffer his wrath.

"Ooh, so scary," James rolled his eyes, while Lily gained a fresh scowl for the new threats against these children.

His gaze lingered on Neville, who gulped.

"Nice to change things up a bit," Harry muttered with disgust.

He warned that he took nothing less than an O for his future NEWT students, so this could very well be his final year with many of them.

"I have never wanted Harry to fail an exam more than I do right now," Sirius said at once.

Lily worked furiously, but couldn't even find it in herself to argue. James was the only one who felt disappointment for the statement, as he knew full well Harry would need that OWL to get into Auror training...two more years of Snape in one hand or his son's future in the other, it really was a nasty toss up.

His eyes rested hatefully on Harry, who had a moment to realize this was the last year he'd have to see Snape's face on a regular basis.

Snape kept going, saying they had a year before those happy farewells,

"What I just heard is, I don't have to care about this class for a whole year because there's no way in Merlin I'll be passing it anyways," Remus muttered while Sirius started snickering again, the back of his mind already waiting to hear Slughorn calling him out any second for these flashbacks he could appreciate.

so for now they still had work to do. He flicked his wand to the blackboard, where a potion's ingredients and instructions were put up for the Draught of Peace, an elixir that was supposed to calm anxiety and soothe agitation, though if brewed wrong, could cause one to fall into an irreversible sleep.

Lily smiled sadly to herself, thinking back to the end of their fourth year and how their fights had grown so bad over the years that by this point Potions was the only safe ground they had left. They'd discovered this one while doing a little pre studying for next year and had a fun conversation about how Muggleborns must have heard of this one at some point and how it wound up featuring in some of their fairy tales. Severus had made a few jokes about the ridiculousness of their so called cure for this...and now she just wanted to walk away for a moment and again feel the loss of that friend who was never coming back.

On Harry's left, Hermione sat up a little straighter, her expression one of utmost attention.

"She still does that eh?" James asked with mild disgust. "She does know by now there is no winning that man's approval, I know I tried all my life and-" he stopped as Lily released his hand to smack his head.

They set to work, and with ten minutes left too class, Hermione's attention was the only one who had paid off as Snape began sweeping around to see their work. Harry's smoke was coming out grey instead of the silver it should have been, while Ron's was shooting green sparks. Snape passed by her's without comment,

"A first for him I'm sure," Sirius rolled his eyes, wondering how much Snape loathed Hermione more than Harry for being so good when she was a Muggleborn.

to pause at Harry's cauldron with a horrible smirk.

"Ah the disgusting face of triumph I've had seared into my brain," Remus rolled his eyes.

He demanded of Potter what this was supposed to be?

"Butterbeer," Sirius launched at once as if he'd practiced by heart. "I'm thinking of starting my own brewery, and I'm naming it after you, Aarsehole Ale."***

"I would not drink that on a dare," James told him with a straight face.

"But it has some real potential for future carnage if bottled correctly," Remus concluded.

The Slytherins turned at once to watch the show.

No one in here could claim surprise even if they were all sick of hearing about this.

Harry tersely said the name of his attempted potion, before Snape returned if Potter could read?

"When it suits me," James clearly thought he was being smart.

Harry just glared as an answer as Snape told Potter to read the third line of the instructions given. Harry did in fact reread them, and felt his stomach drop as he realized he'd missed an ingredient he had not spotted from his spot in the back row through the haze of mist around him.

Harry muttered something about his hatred of such a stupid detail ruining his whole potion, while Lily was muttering something very similar about his horrid teaching methods. As if he'd never blown a potion in his face the first time he'd tried something new.

Snape prompted when Harry didn't answer if he'd done everything that was on that third line.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Remus found it genuinely fascinating Snape had known exactly what was wrong with the potion in such complicated steps.

Harry curtly replied no. Snape concluded in triumph then that made this mess worthless, using the spell Evanesce.

Lily's face was quickly flushing red with heated anger all over again at him utterly ruining Harry's attempt like this, what she wouldn't give to whack him upside the head with his own potion book for starters.

The boys were more unfazed by something they'd lived with through their whole childhood, even if they were itching to throw a curse or two at old Snivellus picking on one of theirs again.

Harry's potion vanished at once, leaving him with nothing to turn in for the day, while everyone else was ladling out their attempts for an actual grade. Dean's smelt of rotten eggs, and Neville was having to chip his out as it had managed the density of concrete.

"Yes, but neither of them are named Potter," James seethed with Harry.

Yet it was Harry who would be receiving zero marks for the day's work.

"I am surprised I detect a hint of caring," Sirius spotted.

"I don't actually like failing, even his classes," Harry grumbled, though his ire was less so than it had been in the moment, as he was starting to get the feeling this was by far not the worst thing to happen to him today, and that was somehow not leaving a good feeling.

Harry stormed out of class and his friends caught up to him with sympathy, Hermione pointing out Goyle's had exploded at some point and set himself on fire, Harry's was at least better than that.

"I accept this as the irony Snape deserved with lesser pleasure," Remus sighed.

Harry seethed down at his lunch that had never stopped Snape being fair before. Neither answered now, all three were aware Snape and Harry's mutual enmity had been set in stone the moment he came to this school.

"Which is at its most low of that man," Lily was still muttering threats under her breath, this wasn't coming out much more audibly. "Treating you like this when you've done nothing to him, just because of how his father acted, they are two people dammit."

Hermione almost sounded disappointed as she said she'd expected better of him this year, being in the Order and all.

"Oh such sweet delusions I never bothered indulging while I had the chance," Sirius sighed.

"Her optimism really is adorable sometimes," Remus groaned.

Ron rolled his eyes, saying poisonous toadstools didn't change their spots. He even wondered just what Dumbledore had on Snape to trust him, where was the proof he wasn't really working for You-Know-Who?

"In my doubts that you'll ever get it, I still won't swallow it then," Sirius sniffed.

Hermione said Dumbledore must have a very good reason even if it wasn't being shared with Ron.

"It would still be nice if he shared it, show why he trusted him, not even in detail, just-" Remus cut himself off with a sigh that most likely they wouldn't be getting any of this.

Before Ron had a chance to snap back, Harry snapped at the two to shut up!

That caught the others off guard as Lily said with a bit of rebuke, "Harry-"

"It was their third argument, that morning!" Harry defended, albeit more lackluster than when he'd snapped at his friends in person. "And just after Snape, I have limits."

"Sounded like you were used to it though," Remus sounded more puzzled than anything.

"You've had a bit of a short fuse lately with everyone," James agreed, "but mostly it's been coming off on them."

Harry had nothing to say to any of them, because he knew they were right. There was a terrible swirling feeling building in the back of his mind, and the moment he acknowledged how long it had been there it almost overwhelmed him right then. It took all of the self control he'd been having to learn so far not to let the memory sweep him whole, but something of all these bad feelings really was leading him to a very dark idea that involved this year... he was cut free of his thoughts by the words on the page thankfully grabbing his attention then, saving him from having to come up with a proper response.

Hermione and Ron looked offended at Harry's attitude as he kept going at the pair of them always having a go at each other! He left without another word, still mentally raging about how their constant bickering would drive anyone up a wall.

"I can see that," Remus said fairly, "though no matter how unpractical now, I'd suggest in future just walking away and letting them have it out."

"I usually do," Harry sighed, before perking up slightly and adding on for fun, "one time I timed it and they hadn't noticed I'd left for almost the whole weekend...though now I'm thinking I should have been offended by that rather than laughing it off with Neville," he finished still with a goofy smile in place.

"How long after the Yule Ball was this?" Lily asked, only just suppressing her own laughter.

"The next weekend," he didn't seem to understand her implied tone as he shrugged and moved on.

He made his way up to Divination alone, passing by Sir Cadogan but ignoring his usual attempts to start a fight from inside his painting. Thankfully he was distracted quickly by running into a wolfhound.

"A daunting challenge for the man, it should keep him busy for five whole minutes," James chuckled.

Harry spent the rest of his lunch alone at the base of the North Tower and was consequently the first to arrive into Trelawney's classroom.

"Harry, adding more torture to your life does not make anything easier," Lily groaned.

"Don't know what you're talking about Lily, this is usually a hoot," Sirius was already grinning in anticipation for the remarks to come.

Thankfully the teacher was going around and setting books on tables so missed Harry's arrival, leaving him free to wander to a shadowy corner that already had a book on it and be ignored for a few moments longer until Ron arrived. He had to look around carefully to find him, and had to wade around several chairs and pouffes to reach Harry.

"He didn't jump a few?" James demanded. "What do you lot do with your life?"

"Clearly nothing as spectacular as you," Harry chuckled.

He took a seat and immediately began to say he and Hermione had stopped arguing,

"For twenty minutes, or seconds?" Sirius asked.

"Certainly at least that hour, as she's not there," Remus shrugged.

"Unless he's still arguing with her in his head," James grinned.

but Hermione wanted the message passed along for Harry to stop taking his temper out on them.

"Thought that's what friends were for?" Remus demanded.

"That's certainly what Ron and Hermione seem to use each other for," Lily seemed to agree.

Harry tried to protest, but Ron said he was just the messenger, though he did agree it wasn't their fault how Seamus and Snape treated him.

"Well it's not as if he can say that to them," James sighed.

"Snape no, but I've got a few things Seamus could find, it's all the better they share the dorm, though that does limit some of the-"

Sirius was forced to cut off by Harry falling victim to Lily's begging eyes for him to keep going.

Harry didn't get a chance to reply to that as Trelawney began in her usual mystic voice, leaving Harry to dwell in still more annoyance, and some shame.

"Says something about your character you can feel both at once at least," Remus snorted lightly.

The Professor was continuing by saying how delighted she was to see them all back in person, as she knew they would.

James was already making pointed yawning noises.

She moved on into the lesson, saying their texts for this year were provided for them, and they'd be focusing on dreams. This was a common theme in OWLs, and while she did not believe in examinations to gage the uses of the Seeing Eye, the Headmaster insists upon setting such things.

"I do so love it when the teachers talk about how stupid the exams are," Sirius chuckled.

Her voice trailed off suggestively, leaving no one in doubts she found her subject above such things as common examinations.

"Not so much when she finishes on a high horse," Lily sniffed.

She instructed them to read the opening chapter on interpreting dreams, and then discuss with their partner what they could devine. Thankfully not being a double period, by the time they'd read their chapter they only had ten minutes to talk about dreams. In the table over, Neville at once launched into his most recent of a pair of scissors wearing his grandmother's hat had chased him around.

"I'm sure that has some deep meaning interpretations-" Remus began lightly.

"About scissors out to kill the world and his grandmother the supreme ruler of hats, yeah, I can see that happening any day now," James agreed.

Harry and Ron went back and forth for a moment of who would share the dream, Ron losing and finally saying he'd had some kind of dream about Quidditch last night, asking what deep meaning that supposedly held.

Harry's response was probably something involving marshmallows eating him.

Causing four collective snorts of laughter, James recovering from his laugh at once to demand, "just what the bloody hell is in that book of yours for desserts to be coming after you?"

"Oh, because scissors and grandmothers is so much better," Harry reminded.

It was very dull, looking up insignificant moments of your unconsciousness, and it did not help Trelawney's homework for them was to set up a month long dream diary.

"That's as easy as the last assignment I've heard," Remus chuckled. "In fact all I've heard from this class is make stuff up."

"I don't exactly have a wide imagination," Harry sighed, "I run out very fast and then get frustrated, while I know she must know I reuse a few things about dying. Probably why I've never gone far in that class."

"Yes, that's why, not because she wouldn't bother putting an interest in someone she has slated to die," Sirius cackled.

As the bell rung, Ron was already going off about the amount of homework they'd been set. Binns had given them a foot and a half essay over those giant wars, Snape had set them another foot over moonstones, now this!

"Ah the never ending complaint of homework," Remus nodded in agreement.

Fred and George really hadn't been kidding. He really hoped that Umbridge woman wouldn't set anything.

"If Moony wasn't above giving homework than no one is," James sniffed.

Remus gave him a wounded look as he demanded, "are you saying if she doesn't, I'll be replaced?"

"I'd fight for you," Sirius gave him a mock pat on the shoulder, "I'll take your lame essays over that pink cardigan any day."

They entered to find the woman looked even more like a toad squatting over her desk.

All three boys continued laughing at Harry's constant description of that, it really didn't grow old with how much sarcasm Harry infused into saying this.

They all remained quiet as they watched her and took their seats, not yet knowing what kind of disciplinarian she was.

Harry was starting to fidget uneasily though. He'd just had all of his least favorite classes back to back, and still this one felt the most foreboding of all.

She greeted them with a lively good afternoon, and received the standard mutters return.

She tutted them, saying that was not a proper greeting at all. When she addressed them, they were to reply with a resound good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.

Sirius was crinkling his nose in disgust at once as he demanded, "I really want to know which primary school sucked the life out of her! That's degrading to the first years, let alone this nonsense!"

Lily had some instinct to scold about proper manners, but stopped herself because Harry was really starting to worry her. He sounded more hostile to this woman he'd yet to have a conversation with than he had in all his times speaking of Snape.

She repeated her good afternoon to the class, whom this time responded with her desired greeting back.

"Not one of you got creative with that?" James pouted at such poor showmanship.

"Probably got lost on where to begin," Remus offered. "Such as, good morning Um, oh what was it again? Or even hem, hem, sorry had to clear my throat before I could get that out, there seems to be a frog stuck in there, or how about-"

"Remus!" Lily finally cut in loud enough over the laughing boys, at least trying to hid her own smile while he batted his eyes innocently.

She smiled with pleasure as she instructed them to put their wands away and get out their quills. There was a shuffle of glum as this order was followed, as wands away had never yet been met with anything interesting.

"True, but that follows in most classes," Sirius sighed.

Once desks were cleared except their parchment, she waved her wand to the board where words appeared:

Defence Against the Dark Arts A Return to Basic Principles

Harry stopped, mouthed the words again, and felt his bad feelings ratcheting up all over again.

Everyone else looked just as properly disgruntled for that statement, Remus muttering, "really, the teaching there has been inconsistent, but please tell me she's not going to be doing this for all students, especially the NEWT ones."

Harry could find nothing in him to argue saying otherwise.

She began by saying how disrupted this class had been with such constantly changing teachers, many of whom were not Ministry approved, therefore they were all far below the standard of OWL students.

"I think I'd already take Lockhart over this," James huffed.

"Speak for yourself," Remus grumbled. He had a predisposition to dislike her as well thanks to Harry, but nothing could be worse than that moron, right?

Therefore, this class would be handled with a structured, theory centered Ministry approved defensive magic. She commanded they copy down the following Course Aims: Insert the three course aims.

Lily's face was puckering with concern as she asked, "really, not that any of that is strictly a bad thing to be teaching them, but that was it?"

"Hopefully she'll adjust those in the fortnight, it shouldn't even take them that long to drag through something so tedious," James offered.

When everyone had finished that, she asked if everyone had their assigned books. There was another mutter and a few held their books up in answer, and she tutted at them again.

"Argh," Sirius snarled outright this time. "She's really going to insist upon that for every question. Even we'll start to run out of alterations for that stupidity."

"Best to start storing them up and only dishing them out when they're really needed," Remus agreed.

When they were asked a question, they were to respond with yes, Professor Umbridge, or no, Professor Umbridge. She repeated the question, and again got her desired answer.

She then asked them to begin reading chapter one, there was no need to talk.

Harry flipped to the beginning, but could not concentrate on it for a single moment it was as dull as Binns reading.

"I digress," James winced in horror, "even Lockhart had the decency to read them himself and keep up the stupid show, I'm sure that made it go by faster than self inflicting this dribble."

After several moments Harry realized he wasn't the only one not focusing on his work, Ron was fidgeting with a quill and not even bothering to gaze at the text but staring off into space, and Hermione had not even flipped open her copy.

That gave everyone in here a nice jolt of surprise. They'd yet to recall a moment where Hermione had directly disobeyed a teacher like this. Harry certainly found his interest spiraling back up even if it didn't erase his bad feelings for how this was going to end.

She was staring fixedly at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air. Harry could not remember Hermione ever neglecting to read when instructed to, or indeed resisting the temptation to open any book that came under her nose.

"Well that part's not so surprising, I wouldn't even be surprised if she's read it already like all her others," Remus rolled his eyes.

"She must have some limit," James balked. "Even something as dull as that must stop her."

Soon the majority of the class was now watching Hermione's silent attempts to get their teacher's attention in far more fascination than the text.

"That is really saying something, one silence is beating out another," Sirius chuckled.

As Umbridge seemed to realize she could ignore this no longer, she finally called and had to ask for Hermione Granger's name, and Hermione asked about the course aims.

Umbridge was not impressed, saying if she read them carefully they were perfectly clear.

"Well if that isn't a bit pompous," Lily shook her head at that.

Hermione bluntly said back not at all, as they said nothing of using defensive spells.

They all shifted uncomfortably in their seat. They'd noticed this of course, but had been hoping it just hadn't come up quite yet...

There was a heavy beat of silence as all the students reread this for themselves, while Umbridge gave a trilling laugh why would they need any such thing?

"Ah, practice," Remus pointed out in a clearly 'duh' tone.

"Can we do some on her," Sirius was already muttering. Not a good sign if he was already initiating threats on this woman Lily noted, but she also just couldn't bring herself to rebuke him either, she'd been in this class for just a few minutes and was already grating on their nerves.

Surely they weren't expecting to be attacked during class?

Harry gave an awkward laugh for remembering a few instances of being attacked at places he never would have thought possible.

Ron burst out in protest they weren't going to be doing magic in here?!

She snipped at once for his hand before turning away dismissively as both Harry and Hermione did the same. She instead called back on Hermione, who asked the whole point of class was to learn and practice defensive spells.

Umbridge's tone was coming out more falsely sweet by the moment as she said that Hermione had no qualification to be saying what the whole point of any class was. Wizards much older and cleverer than her had devised this program.

All five of them gave a raised brow for that. At some point none of them would even be surprised if Hermione decided to teach the class, it would make more sense than half the choices they'd heard of so far.

They would be learning in a risk-free way-

Harry cut her off to point out being attacked wasn't risk free-

but she cut him off to say his hand!

Harry kept his first thrusted in the air.

"I thought it said you already had your hand raised," James reminded, his face somewhere between wanting to mock this situation and already realizing this was getting bad, fast.

"I put it down when I started talking," Harry muttered.

She turned away from him though, and instead called on Dean who finished Harry's point.

Umbridge gave a simpering smile at him as she asked who he expected to attack him in class?

"You're supposed to be trained inside so you expect it outside," Remus genuinely looked confused at trying to explain this, he'd never thought he'd have to, to a teacher of this subject!

"Is she actually arguing the point, saying she won't!" Lily demanded.

"I, she can't be that dense," James tried to deny, but at the bleak look on Harry's face saying his mother was right on the money, they all fell into a confounded silence as it really hit them just what Harry had been stuck with this year. Even their plethora of inept teachers sprinkled in with the few good ones had never gotten this bad!

When Dean tried to say something else, she turned and addressed the class plainly now. They had been exposed to very irresponsible wizards in this class, not to mention even a half-breed.

Remus couldn't even pretend to block out the sound of the, underserved in his opinion, protest around him since Harry was so vocally agreeing. He just wished they wouldn't as it wouldn't do any good. Thankfully as the woman wasn't present and all they could do was shout angrily about this, it didn't last too long, but there was no longer any doubt in anyone's mind. This woman had surpassed Lockhart already as worst teacher, and was right up there with insane Jr. as far as wanting to be kept around.

Dean tried to protest angrily that if she was referring to Professor Lupin, he was the best-

Remus had lost a couple of shades in fear of realizing he was so well known to the Ministry, never something a werewolf should be encouraged to do, but even such a comment as this managed to make him feel just slightly better. The kids had still thought he'd been better than Moody?

She interrupted him by pressing on that they had been frightened into believing they would be attacked any day now,

"Well, I mean, at some point they're not wrong," Harry muttered.

and the spells performed in here were often above their age and even illegal.

"And it happened to save a very important life, so this transgression was overlooked," James huffed, not particularly fond of defending the madman who'd tried to do his son in, or one of them at least, but that still felt better than agreeing with anything this woman had said.

Dean hotly pointed out even being a maniac they'd still learned loads.

Sirius literally applauded his logic, and no one could think of a good reason to stop him for a moment.

Umbridge finally snapped at him as well his hand was no longer up, before continuing the Ministry held the belief that a theoretical knowledge would be sufficient for them to pass their examinations and get through school, that is what school was all about.

"Oh yes, because after school you're just supposed to be a mindless drone to the Ministry apparently," James crinkled his nose in disgust.

Parvati took the chance and raised her hand next, being called on to ask that there was a practical bit to their DADA OWL. They'd have to use the spells then.

Umbridge dismissively pressed her point so long as they learned the theory, they could manage under the controlled monitor of the test.

"That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" Lily yipped. "In whose right mind do you expect anyone to learn without hands on practice at some level?"

"Clearly this one is as off the wagon as Jr., but in a completely different way," Sirius felt repulsed at the idea as he rounded on Harry, "just how do you manage to get two insane people back to back?"

Harry was muttering something about how it didn't quite end any time soon, but chose not to really reply.

Parvati was incredulous the first time they'd use those spells was the actual test!

Harry finally shouted out what good was theory in the real world?

Umbridge finally looked at him and softly reminded this was school, not the real world.

"So they're not supposed to be prepared at all?!" James snarled at the same time Harry had kept going.

Harry rebutted they weren't supposed to be prepared for what was out there?

Lily gave a soft breath of laughter like the others for the comparison as the two smiled at each other, but it didn't quite erase how empty it always made her feel to see her boy already having to conform to any kind of war like mind. No, he shouldn't have to be prepared for what was out there, because she kept hoping there wouldn't be anything out there. No matter how naïve, she'd always wish for that.

Umbridge pressed there was nothing out there, who would want to hurt children?

Harry snapped at once Lord Voldemort.

All four of them shivered, though not for the same reason as Harry's classmates had just done. The idea of Voldemort inside their school, actually attacking their own classmates at the time had filled them with dread in their final year. Now Harry was having to experience the idea, two years earlier...

Ron gasped, Lavender Brown uttered a little scream, and Neville slipped sideways off his stool. Professor Umbridge, however, did not flinch.

"I'm confident it's more to do with her lack of a brain than any actual imbedded fear like the rest," Remus muttered.

She was instead glaring at Harry as she took ten points from Gryffindor and then turned to address the class again, speaking very clearly that they had all been told a Dark wizard had returned from the dead-

here interrupted by Harry shouted he hadn't been dead, but yes he was returned.

"I don't think arguing technicalities will help you right now," Lily shook her head softly even as she was watching the book intently, on tenterhooks to throw something at this woman for her son even if he was doing a superb job defending himself.

Umbridge cut him off by going on in an even more sugary voice that there was no Dark wizard. This was a lie.

Harry shouted back no it was not! He fought him!

Harry did not want to look back up at them as he said this with just as much force as he had to Umbridge. He did not want to again see the mingled fear and pride on them for this having been true. It helped to keep his eyes focused on the pages as he truly encountered his first person who was flat out calling him a liar, that wasn't just some other student. This was someone who worked for the Ministry, the government he should have been relying on to help him get people to understand this, not some woman who continued addressing him as if a naughty child about the worst experience of his life.

Umbridge set him a detention for the outburst.

No one could ignore it this time, Harry's right hand shook so hard the book nearly fell from his grip, the ghost of a burning sensation crossing those faded white words more intensely than ever before. Harry steadied himself though, and just looked on in confusion for a moment before forcing himself to ignore the moment. Whatever that odd marking of his was, it was clearly fixing to be revealed, but he just couldn't imagine in what conjuncture to this any more than the others.

She set it for tomorrow in her office, before going back even more forcefully the Ministry of Magic guaranteed this was not true!

"Because that makes it all better," Sirius' blistering tone was coming out more dangerous the more sugary Umbridge's tone had gone. Harry was already sure he would love to have put them in a quiet room together at some point, though it wouldn't have remained quiet long.

If anyone continued to fear this, please come speak to her. Now would they all please kindly return to their assigned reading.

Umbridge sat back down, while Harry stood up.

Remus drew the simple letter o out in honest anticipation to see how far Harry was going to go with this woman.

Everyone was staring at him, Seamus looked half-scared, half-fascinated.

"I would have taken anything over 'defensive of Umbridge,' so," Lily's nod came out in a jerky movement of some kind of agreement to this.

Hermione tried to stop him, but he took no heed of her as he demanded that Cedric Diggory had dropped dead of his own accord then, while ignoring his shaking voice.

James flinched at the intensity of Harry's tone, even as he sat forward in his seat, an ugly look set in place to hear the government disgrace away this death.

There was a collective gasp as if Harry had just spoken Voldemort's name again. No one had heard Harry speak of this except Ron and Hermione.

Umbridge returned in a flat, cold voice that Diggory's death had been a tragic accident.

Harry's voice snapped colder than any cracking whip as he forced himself to read out that lie. Though it truly was of some comfort to him he could feel the anger bleeding from those around him, the support and backup he could feel that hadn't been lacking from his friends per say, but they'd been sitting in more stunned silence than anything.

Harry shouted back it was murder, Voldemort had done it!

Umbridge's face went impassive then, her voice taking up its sweet, girly tone again as she called for him to come up front.

Harry did so with a violent kick to his chair first, so angry he did not care what happened next.

"I care," James muttered as his knee started bouncing with unease. Every gesture this woman had made so far just screamed he was not going to like what was coming next. Sometimes a prank wasn't enough to get his point across, and he could already feel this woman deserved far worse for whatever she was going to subject his son to.

By the time Harry got there, she was done scrawling out a note and sealed it shut with magic so that he couldn't open it, and then instructed for him to go give this to McGonagall.

That stopped Harry cold in surprise. He glanced up but saw they understood this no more than he had. What exactly did this woman think McGonagall was going to do about this?

Still, Lily managed to just find one bright spot in this, as finally Harry was getting away from her even for a moment.

He took it from her without saying a word, turned on his heel and left the room, not even looking back at Ron and Hermione, slamming the classroom door shut behind him.

"What I would pay them to start making it a trend and rally all the students to get themselves kicked out of her class," Sirius sighed.

Harry went storming through the castle for his head of house's office, his mind still a whirlwind as he ran into Peeves, who at once began cackling upon seeing him.

"I suppose there's a time and place for everything," Remus winced at that poltergeist.

"I find this an excellent use of our previous point," James' grin had turned a bit vicious. "We most certainly do need to learn to protect ourselves inside this castle. Why don't we have Peeves step inside the class for a moment to demonstrate."

"It certainly couldn't do too much harm to watch that Umbridge woman see the vitality of defensive magic being used practically," Sirius' tone held just one soft edge of a growl, while everyone was envisioning who would win in this fight against Umbridge and Peeves, and greatly enjoying the results right now.

Harry told him to get lost, but this only provoked Peeves further into breaking into song about all that Potter had done in the past.

"Should I feel honored I've gotten more than one song from him?" Harry grumbled.

"If I say yes, will it cheer you up at all?" Sirius asked.

"No," Harry said flatly.

"Oh, well then," Sirius rolled his eyes as he tried to act affronted, but mostly they were all sad Harry wasn't even playing along anymore. That's what being in one class with that woman had already done to him, they were all starting to become terrified of future results.

Harry roared at him to shut up just as he reached McGonagall's door. She shooed the poltergeist away, who indeed flew off with a raspberry, before demanding of him why he wasn't in class.

"All the flashbacks must be bombarding her at once," James said a little wistfully, at least he couldn't claim he'd ever been kicked out of class for getting into an argument with a teacher like that, it had always been intentional.

Sirius did perk up though as he pointed out, "though major credit to Harry, I don't think any of us got this accomplishment on our first day with someone new. That earns you major credit pup."

Harry still wasn't reacting, his mind too pestered on the lies that woman insisted upon, he couldn't think of anything past that for now.

Harry stated he been sent here, while McGonagall repeated his words in confusion.

"It means been given the golden ticket to leave class and come see the higher power, I'm sure you're familiar with it," Remus snarked under his breath.

He held the note out, and she opened her door to let him in. She walked around her desk before reading it, and then turning on Potter if this was true?

He demanded what in a still aggressive tone.

"Well don't take this out on here," James couldn't help the instant scolding that popped out of him, but he'd never hear of someone being disrespectful to his favorite teacher and react otherwise.

Harry's tone was finally edging out of hostile now as he looked around at James in surprise for the tone, before he quickly nodded with chagrin at his own actions, knowing he'd do the same thing to someone else he respected so much.

He quickly tacked on the word Professor to sound just a bit more polite.

Causing all the boys cackles to soothe back, at least they knew Harry meant it. They'd just had one too many instances of wannabe Death Eaters making some snide comment to their head of house for the reaction not to be instinct by now.

She began recounting the letter that had said Potter had shouted at Umbridge, called her a liar, and declared You-Know-Who as being back, which Harry denied none of.

Remus began chuckling as he saw a shining moment of James in Harry right there. Absolutely no shame or regret in those actions.

McGonagall took her seat behind her desk before gesturing at Potter to take a biscuit.

Causing all of five of them to do a double take in surprise before titterings of laughter broke out for such a comment being inserted. She really could always keep them on their toes.

Caught off guard, Harry took a ginger snap suspiciously as he sat down. This had happened once before where he'd been sure McGonagall would have his ear, but instead had invited him to join the Quidditch team.

"Still one of my favorite moments to date," James nodded with unease as he tried to guess where she could be going with this. "Surely she's not going to create something else just for Harry to join as a reward."

"I will come up to the school and hug her in thanks if so," Sirius snickered.

Professor McGonagall set down Professor Umbridge's note and looked very seriously at Harry.

"I'm sure she's had plenty of practice, all the times she's seen my face like this," Sirius nodded wisely, this one catching them so off guard James and Remus actually laughed for a second before remembering to smack him for that.

She began softly that Potter needed to be careful. Misbehavior around Umbridge would cause him more than detention and house points.

Harry tried to ask what was worse, but McGonagall gained back her usual snappy manner as she told him to use his common sense!

"That seems to get through to you best," Lily smirked.

"Keeps things serious between us," Harry said, giving an obvious look to his godfather as a clear way of apologizing for being snappy with him before as well.

Sirius took the opportunity in stride as he instantly replied, "I'll always keep things between us pup!"

The bell rang then, but McGonagall kept at her point as she said the note stated Potter was given a detention every night this week, starting tomorrow.

"But, Quidditch!" James instantly protested as he recalled Angelina's exact words about Friday.

Lily smacked him upside the head as she snapped, "priorities James."

"Did she have to set it for then," he continued quietly.

Harry cut in, horrified. Asking if she could do anything-

"Oh no, she couldn't," Remus frowned. "Dumbledore doesn't even interfere in those things, it's too undermining to the teachers."

"In this case, I think he really should make an exception," Sirius had his nose crinkled in disgust of what this woman was doing already.

McGonagall said back with no uncertain terms no she could not. He would do these detentions. Then she added for him to remember to be careful around Umbridge.

Harry burst in outrage he was only telling the truth!

"You were about Norbert too and still took that detention without such a fuss," Sirius tried to poke fun.

"This is far different and you know it," Harry sighed, clearly still not in a good enough mood to be poking back.

McGonagall gave him a stern glare back as she said this was not about truth and lies, it was about his temper needing some control.

"No to the first, but the second could use some work," James agreed.

"Learn to pick your battles mate," Remus disagreed, "I'm agreeing with all of that."

"Never quite seemed to catch that lesson," James shrugged without remorse.

She stood and was still looking down at Harry with disapproval as she told him to have another biscuit.

"Is that supposed to be a peace offering?" Harry asked, wondering at the insistence of these things.

"Just her way of trying to keep things polite," Sirius shrugged.

Harry reluctantly took another one as she asked him if he'd listened to Umbridge's start of term feast?

"I wouldn't have thought anyone had until Hermione proved me otherwise," Remus rolled his eyes at the question.

Harry struggled to recall exact phrases, before settling on what Hermione had said about the Ministry interfering at Hogwarts.

McGonagall held the door open for him as he left, saying that at least he listened to Hermione Granger.

"That really is hurtful," Harry pouted down at the final page. "As if I couldn't come to that conclusion on my own after that class!"

"Well, she's not wrong," Remus laughed as he held his hand out for the book.

Harry hesitated in giving it too him, that nasty tingling feeling still hadn't left the back of his hand where the faint white scars were, and he was really starting to dread learning the meaning of those.

HPHPHPHP

*I know I pointed this out in the last book, but the inconsistency still stands so I'm going to keep doing it. September 2nd 1995 was a Saturday, not a Monday.

**I've actually really been annoying myself I can't think up an answer to this. Did they really figure this out on themselves, and so then who fixed them up? Couldn't have been Molly, she'd question a never ending nose bleed. Of course they could have been exaggerating the whole shrivel up thing, but I still think Molly would question this too much, that's not just 'dueling'. My point stands I can not picture them doing this to random animals, so...?

***Suggested insert by a new friend of mine, Alice October, thanks for the ever loving sarcasm, which you know is my favorite.

#The Life that Never Lived #Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #HP #OotP #Marauders #James Potter #remus Lupin #sirus black #Lily Potter

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cocochannel00 · 5 years

Text

Birthday Surprise

Harry gives (Y/n) a special surprise for her birthday...

It was currently 8 am and you had just gotten off the night shift at the hospital. You loved your job as a nurse, you really did but three-night shifts in a row as left you completely drained and ready to sleep. You had just pulled up to your shared London home with Harry when your phone buzzed with a message from Anne.

Happy Birthday, love, hope you are having a marvelous day. I know this is very last minute but Harry just messaged me saying he is doing a surprise show for the new album tonight at the Electric Ballroom and wanted me to ask if you’d like to come with me? I can pick you up at 5 and we can go to soundcheck if you like? Gives me an excuse to bring over your gift! -Anne

You groaned silently as you dropped your car keys on the kitchen counter. You desperately missed Harry as you hadn’t seen him in the last four months, but all you wanted to do was sleep for your birthday this year. Despite this, you knew you couldn’t give up the chance of seeing Harry especially since you had lost track of what country he was playing in by now. Just as you were about to respond to Anne and reluctantly tell her yes you would go, Harry sent you a text.

Happy birthday, darling, hope you are having a wonderful day. I know you just got off a shift most likely, but Jeff decided to squeeze in a secret show tonight at the Electric Ballroom and I was hoping if you weren’t too exhausted you and mum could come? Can celebrate your birthday after the show if you're not to warn out -H

You smiled at his text. Harry was one of the sweetest people you had ever met and the fact that he wanted you at the show warmed your heart. Making your way into your bedroom you sat down on Harry’s side of the bed and snuggled up to his pillows before responding.

Thank you, Love. Anne just texted me about it so I’ll let her know that I’ll be joining her. Can’t wait to see you tonight. Think I can convince Lambert to let me pick your shirt for the night?

Think we can maybe arrange that for the night, but only because you’re the birthday girl -H

You laughed at his response before sending him a quick message saying you were going to go take a nap before the show. You quickly changed out of your scrubs and jumped in the shower, but not before setting two alarms and responding to Anne’s message. Once you were out of the shower and in one of Harry’s sweatshirts you passed out onto the bed and fell asleep.

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

A loud quaking sound startled you awake as your alarm blared next to you. You rolled over slowly and began rubbing your eyes before shutting off the alarm. After checking the time, you realized you had about an hour before Anne would arrive so you quickly responded to the couple of happy birthday texts you had received and began to get ready.

Unlike Harry, you weren’t known for your extravagant fashion sense so you put on the coziest sweater you could find and a pair of jeans before starting on your makeup.

You heard a ping from your phone just as you were putting on your shoes, so you knew Anne had just arrived. Buzzing her in you quickly began to clean up the clutter you had laying around your kitchen and living room. The doorbell rang just as you attempted to put away one of Harry’s many suitcases he had laying around from the last time he was home. After shoving it deep in your coat closet you ran to the door to great Anne.

“Oh (y/n) you look absolutely stunning! Happy birthday, dear” Anne stated as she wrapped you in a tight hug before handing you a small box.

“Thank you, Anne, but you really didn’t have to” you replied as you began to open the box up.

Inside the box sat a beautiful small blue ring engraved with a wave. Underneath it sat a picture from the last time you and Harry had gone to visit Anne. You were sat on Harry’s lap as Anne and Gemma sat on either side of you while Michael took the picture. You quickly put on the ring and placed the picture on your kitchen counter before giving Anne another hug.

“Thank you, Anne, they’re wonderful” you stated as you squeezed her tight.

“Oh nonsense darling, it’s my pleasure now come on if we don’t hurry we’re going to be late,” she said as she guided you out the door.

———————————————————————

The atmosphere at the Electric Ballroom was incredible and you couldn’t wait to hear Harry perform his album live for the first time. He had sung you a couple melodies here and there during the writing process and he had let you sit in on a couple of studio sessions when you went out to Los Angeles to visit him earlier that year. The only song he had played for you fully was cherry. You had never seen him so nervous about sharing something with you. You knew he had broken up with her a couple of weeks before you had first met him but up until that moment the two of you had never really talked about what had happened. The song was so beautiful and so personal that it felt like you were invading his memories.

Though most of the album was about that rough break up in his life, Mitch had mentioned in passing that he had written a couple about you but you never asked about them. You wondered whether any of them had made it onto the album. Harry had made you promise that you wouldn’t listen to the album until he got back because he wanted to be there in person with you when you listen to it. It took everything in you not to listen to it the minute it came out a couple of days ago. All of your friends were gushing over how amazing it was and Anne even called crying to talk to you about it. The suspense was killing you, but you were happy you would finally get to hear it after so long.

You were aimlessly wandering around the balcony of the Electric Ballroom as the crowd slowly began to file in when Anne came looking for you.

“Went to get a drink and you wandered off. Thought I’d find you up here. Always exploring.” she said as she passed you a drink.

“Sorry, I wanted to see the place before its filled. I can’t wait to see him on stage, he’s going to be incredible” you whisper as you take a sip of your glass.

“He’s waiting for you in the dressing room. He’s very nervous to play it for you. Been calling me on the phone for days about it. The poor thing was worried to invite you in case you don't like it.” Anne replied as you both made your way down to the dressing room.

“I’ve loved every song he’s ever written! Sometimes he’s so dramatic.” you laugh as you show your VIP pass to the security guard.

You and Anne make your way down the corridor, greeting the crew as you go until you find the door labeled ‘Harry Styles’. Anne gives you a kiss on the cheek before she wanders off to go find Jeff. You knock softly on the door as you hear a soft “come in” from Harry on the other side. You slowly turn the door a poke your head in to find Harry sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. You frown slightly at the state he’s in. Closing the door carefully, you walk over to where he’s sitting and take a seat on the coffee table in front of him.

“You know, if I had known you were going to be this nervous I would have brought you a barf bowl from the hospital” you whispered as he whipped his head back to look at you.

He stared at you for a second as if processing what you said before harshly pulling you into his lap, clutching you to his body.

“Jesus Christ. Fuck (y/n) I’ve missed you so much you have no bloody clue. Been an absolute wreck today. Oh, happy birthday love” He whispered as he held your face in his hands and placed a chaste kiss to your lips before leaning his forehead against yours.

“I missed you too, H. I need you to relax though, ok? You’re going to be great. Rachel said she saw your show at the forum and she said it was amazing. Every snip and melody you’ve played for me has been wonderful and I’ve loved every piece of it.” you replied back as you caressed his cheek and placed a kiss to his nose.

“I know but tonight’s different, you’re here and moms here and Gemma and I just... oh I almost forgot your gift” he mumbled as he reached into the bag on the floor next to you and pulled out a box.

You opened the box to find a beautiful ceramic pendant necklace. The hexagonal pendant contained a shell-like pattern surrounding a blue circle, green and pink colored details. It reminded you of the ones you saw on your trip through northern Spain. You smiled as you looked at the pendant before Harry helped you put it on.

“Harry it’s beautiful, thank you,” You said before giving him a kiss.

“Keep going, there’s something else in there,” he said with a smirk as you furrowed your eyebrows at him, searching through the box. You found a slip of paper at the bottom of the box and unfolded it. It was a plane ticket to Anguilla for New Years'.

“Harry I don’t..”

“Know you’ve been saving up your vacation days so I talked with your friend from work, Margret, and she said that she talked with your head nurse and that if you wanted you could take a week or week and a half and come with me. I didn’t want to make any decision for you so I said I’d call her with your decision so if you don’t want to that’s not a-” he began but you cut him off.

“Yes”

“Yes, you’ll come?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes, I’ll come. God, I love you, thank you” you replied back just as a knock sounded on the door.

“If you two love birds are done having sex we need Harry out here. Going to start the set in 15 minutes” Mitch yelled through the door.

“I’m going to go so you can finish up and so I don’t wrinkle your suit anymore. Thank you for the lovely gifts. I’ll see you out there soon. I love you.” you said as you got up and made your way to the door.

“I love you too, (y/n)” he replied.

You couldn’t get the smile off of your face as you made your way back to the balcony where Gemma, Michael, and Anne were waiting for you. You walked past a crowd of girls before making your way over to them. Gemma spotted you first and quickly came up to hug you and wish you a happy birthday followed by Michael. Anne gushed over the necklace Harry gave you as you told them about the surprise trip he had also gotten you. As the four of you continued talking the lights in the room flickered and the opening notes of what you assumed was Golden began to play.

“You’re going to love it,” Gemma said as she gave you a big hug.

“I know I will” you replied as you listened to Harry begin to sing.

You were a little more than halfway through the show and you had already cried at least three times. Every song played like a movie in your head. The songs were so beautiful and the lyrics were so much more personal than his first album. Harry had just finished singing two of your favorites so far “Falling” and “To Be So Lonely” and was now talking to the audience.

“I wanted to thank everyone again for coming tonight. London has always made me feel like home and I’m so happy I could share this album and these songs with you all. I thought I’d switch it up a bit tonight so the next song I’m going to sing is called “Sunflower, Vol. 6″ and it’s a very special song to me because I wrote it about a very special person. Now, this person is here tonight and it’s the first time they’ve heard any of the songs on the album. It’s also this person’s birthday so I wanted to wish them a big happy birthday as well. I’m a bit nervous about playing it, but here we go” he spoke into the microphone before giving the band a nod to start.

You were already in tears before he even began to sing. Anne had you wrapped in her arms and had offered you a napkin to wipe your tears. Harry looked up at you the whole time, trying to gauge your reaction. He saw you crying while his mom gave him a thumbs up, telling him you liked it and by the end when he had you laughing with the silly noises he was singing he knew he had gotten it right.

Every song was just as amazing as the next and when Harry brought out Stormzy to play a couple of songs you don’t think you could have screamed louder even if you tried. Harry finished his encore and thanked the crew, the band, and his fans before giving one last wave. After he had left the stage for good the lights came on and people began to make there way home.

“Well go down and greet him, you look like you about to explode. We’ll meet you down there soon” Gemma laughed as you nodded and all but sprinted towards the stairs. You raced down the corridors and flashed the security guard your badge again before running towards the backstage area. Once you spotted Harry’s bright yellow pants you all but tackled him to the ground, grabbing his face harshly and planting a strong, heated kiss to his lips. He wrapped his arms around your waist and released your lips with a laugh.

“Can I assume that you liked it then?” he asked with a smile on his face.

“Loved. I loved it, Harry. Every single one was amazing. Your poor mother was probably sick of passing me napkins to wipe my face. Loved it all.” you replied as you hugged him tightly.

Just as Harry was about to speak a man placed a hand on his shoulder.

“This your girl, Harry?” asked Stormzy as he smiled at the two of you.

“Yeah. (Y/n) meet Michael otherwise known as Stormzy” Harry stated as he held you to his chest.

“Pleasure meeting you, love. Heard it’s your birthday too so happy birthday” Stormzy said.

“Oh my god, thank you. Sorry, I just love your music” you replied back quickly, almost jumping with excitement.

“Well thank you very much, appreciate it. You two have fun” Stormzy stated as he waved and walked away from the two of you.

“Oh my god, Stormzy just wished me happy birthday. Did that really just happen? Harry do you know who that is?!” you said in shock as Harry laughed.

“Yes, Love, I do know who that is. Brought him on stage and everything. How did you like “Sunflower, Vol. 6?” he asked slightly anxious.

“You saw me cry through the whole thing, bloody loved it. Can’t believe you wrote a song about me and managed to keep it a secret. It was wonderful, and the lyrics and the kisses in the kitchen just made me remember why I missed you so much. Can’t wait to have you back for a little while” you said as you kissed his cheek softly.

“Get to have me all to yourself in Anguilla in a couple of weeks. Hope that partially makes up for me being away so long”

“Harry you don’t have to apologize or make up for anything. I knew what I signed up for with you and I am so unbelievably proud of you and this album and I don’t think I’ll ever stop listening to it. I do have one question though about my song?” you said.

“What is it, love?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“When did you come up with all of those noises at the end?”

Harry laughed. “Oh, you made those one time when you were playing with James’ daughter Charlotte and I guess they just stuck. Think it was also one of the first times I realized I was in love with you”

“Well I am very in love with you Mr. Harry Styles so thank you for making this an absolutely amazing birthday.”

“I love you too (Y/n), very much. Now, come on let's go mingle a bit before my mom thinks we’ve run away and elope” he replied, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Wouldn’t be such a bad idea” you whispered in his ear before you released him and sauntered away with a smirk.

“No it would not” he mumbled as he followed after you.

Masterlist

#harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles masterlist #Harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles concept

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blue-honeycomb · 5 years

Text

Quiet Devotion 2 [Hawks x Reader]

Since so many people enjoyed the first and asked for a continuation, I decided to make one since I have the day off today. Be warned though, you know what they say about sequels. Also, beware of a possible (most likely going to happen) trilogy.

Summary: Continuation of 'Quiet Devotion'...

Reader Details: Emotional, humble, loyal, introspective.

Quirk: Unbreakable Silk.

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

---

The soft whisper of thread soothed your frantic heart, made calm that which should be a deafening roar. Too soon though, the sharp snip of your delicate pattern work unraveling under your unfocused touch roused you from your thoughts. Too late though, for three hours of work now lie ruined in your grasp, a reminder of your uncharacteristic distraction.

Beside you a crisply folded paper sits unmoving upon your desk, untouched since first you read its contents. Within its perfectly straight creases exists the reason for your distraction, your distress. You'd scold yourself had you the heart to, for though you knew this day would come you still felt overwhelmed by it.

You look around your workshop, taking it in with steady eyes despite the pain searing into the depths of your heart. Silk, cotton and wool creations from generations passed hang proudly along the walls, beautiful and ancient in a way few things are. On their surfaces stories great and small are immortalized, the deeds of heros born before the dawn of quirks, the labors of the common folk. All present, all important, a silent history captured by a weaver's guiding hand.

You look to the paper again, silent. You are not ready, but you doubt you ever will be. There is still so much you do not know, so many things your elders and peers have yet to teach you. Here, you have a life you've just started to live, a place you've begun to make your own: A quiet heaven.

Life moves forward though, as it always has. You know that. You learned that truth years ago in that dark and hopeless place that when life moves forward so must you for there is only one other option. Only one.

Setting your ruined work aside you reach out for the letter and take it carefully in your hands, as though it would burn you if provoked unduly. The first thing to draw you attention is the number sitting unchangingly at the top of the paper, neat and bold against the stark white of the lease notice. Your heart quakes at the sight, but you take a fortifying breath and continue on.

Life holds still for no one after all.

---

Hawk's half-lidded gaze scans lazily over the video footage as it plays mutely before him, head tilting slightly as the object of his attention moves ever closer to the security camera overhead. He'd expected that you'd linger for a while near the mail slot, as most do, but to his surprise you'd merely shoved the package into the slot and walked away without a backwards glace. He'd almost think you felt put upon by how quickly you left, but the smile on your face was more than enough to disprove those thoughts.

His rests his chin in his newly re-gloved palm, enjoying the silken feel of it resting against his skin and stubble. He takes a moment to regret not being able to wear the whole set, but the persistent chill and distracting vibrations that would ensue from it soundly nipped that impulse. Instead, he makes note to be a particularly troublesome nuisance for his support department to encourage them to make his soon-to-be newest outfit their top priority once they receive it.

He replays the video again for perhaps the fourth time that hour because there's something familiar about you he should remember. He's sure of this in a way that strikes him as unusual, concerning even, as he doesn't recognize your face despite his near perfect vision and excellent memory. In his hand he holds a single feather, letting it rest fulling against the glove and watching as it quivers softly against the smooth surface.

That subtle interaction is familiar too, but only distantly so as though feeling a shift of movement underwater or experiencing a phantom ache. It's one of the main reasons he knows he should recognize you from somewhere despite the lack of recognition though, because the sensory input from his wings is not something he's prone to forget or misidentify. Lives literally depend on him being able to control and interpret his quirk.

Leaning back into his chair he props his feet onto his table and smirks, dismissing the concern for now. He'd just have to meet with you in person, simple as that. No better way to get the ball rolling than by just getting it done. He didn't get this far up the rankings by thinking about it after all.

A large, cunning smile crossed his lips, maybe with a bit more teeth than was strictly necessary. Surely, making sure the creator of his newest hero uniform was on hand is what any good hero would do. It's a tough job. You never know when you'll need a patch job. Can't have the Number Two flying around in a tattered costume after all. Wouldn't fit his image.

And so a few calls later and a couple favors shorter, he had your file in hand, flipping through it nonchalantly between bouts of paperwork that never seemed to stop coming.

About halfway through the file he finally comes across what he's looking for, and this time the smile that crosses his expression is fond.

'You really are as pretty as I'd thought you'd be.'

---

Seven Years Ago

---

The feather in your hand has been trying to escape your gasp, likely to return to its originator, but for the life of you you cannot unfurl your fingers from around it. It is your lifeline, your only assurance that there is someone out there, a Hero, who is coming for you even if you cannot see them yet.

The feather tugs in your grasp again and you keen softly, bringing it to your chest to clutch it as tightly as possible in your weakened state.

It could hurt you, you know, slice through your flesh and bone like warm butter with just as much effort. You may not remember the name of the young hero it belongs to but you've seen enough glimpses of him over the news to know that the only reason the feather has not escaped yet is because it doesn't want to hurt you. That the only reason it's stayed this long is because you cannot let go of it. That as selfish as it may seem to an outsider, the trauma and desperation that'd once overtaken you was still there, stayed only by the tangible piece of hope trapped tightly in your hand.

You just cannot let go.

Time passes and the feather still vibrates, soothing your frayed nerves as they try to fill your mind with scenerio after scenerio as to what could have gone wrong up top, each one more convoluted than the last.

Then it happens. The vibrations are no longer just in your hand but all around you, low and quiet as though done with the utmost care. You realize very quickly that it sounds that way because that's exactly what's happening. It takes mere moments for the first ray of light to pierce through the darkness to your far right, followed promptly by the emergence of a helmet cover head you can just make out with your limited sight.

"Is anyone down here?" The voice of the man speaking was rough like gravel and just as grating, but it was one of the most beautiful sounds you'd even heard in all your years of existing.

Once more, for what was beginning to feel like a never ending cycle in your life, you begun to cry.

---

Your extraction was quick, though not nearly quick enough for your liking. Mostly you stayed quiet after your initial outburst of tears, not from embarrassment as some may be lead to believe, but from the sheer exhaustion that overcame you the moment large, warm hands came to help you stand.

After adjusting to the change in lighting you looked to the man helping you and found him dressed in something that looked suspiciously like a onesie/jumper hybrid. Though you suppose such an outfit made sense in his line of work in terms of functionality. Besides, not too many people care about what a person's wearing when they're literally plucking them out of the weckage of what could be the worst day of their lives. You certainly don't.

"Damn. We thought you were a goner. It's a good thing that Hawks kid showed up when he did. Awesome quirk, that one." The strangely dressed hero exclaims with a friendly grin while he supports your back and upper torso, perhaps trying to be assuring or funny but missing the mark on both accounts. "I mean, you were so far down even Radar couldn't sense you! That you survived at all is incredible! You must be a super strong person, no doubt about that!" He smiled even wider, eyes kind and genuinely happy for your survival, but the implications of his words stay with you even as he hands you over to the medics to continue his own hero duties.

'They thought I was dead,' You think numbly as the medic gives you a thorough check up. 'They weren't going to come for me.' Something like panic wanted to crawl up your throat, but you were too tired for it to truly spiral. 'They always recover the bodies last. It could have taken days before they got to that stage.' The implications were not lost on you.

It made sense, really. Why waste effort recovering dead bodies when there were people that needed rescuing and reassuring. Why waste precious life-saving hours looking for corpses that no longer had a time limit when the living had so much more to lose.

It was the right thing to do, you knew. Prioritizing the living was always the right thing to do, but it didn't stop the quiet hurt that settled in your heart. The living have worth, a corpse does not. It stung to think that even if you'd died down there you would have been a low priority issue. That for a while there, you were a low priority.

The feather tugged again and you startled- having forgotten about it in your daze- startling the medic in turn. When they turned to ask you what was wrong you merely shook your head, murmuring softly in reassurance. You knew that had the circumstances been different the medic would have pried, but as it was there was no time for a full Psych evaluation. There were still lives that needed saving and only so much time to do so. In the light of day you could see that well enough on your own, despite both your eyes being nearly swollen shut from the bruising and irritation.

What had started off as a small hero vs. villian battle had somehow devolved into a five block catastrophe of sinkholes and fires. Entire sections of road was missing, likely buried under the untold amount of sand scattered as far as your limited vision would allow you to see. No less than six buildings were near collapsed, some even gone entirely. It was mind boggling just to look at, let alone begin to make sense of.

Still, despite the devastation, one thought remained prevalent above all others.

'They thought I was dead but he checked anyway. He checked because they didn't know for sure and there was still a chance someone had survived the fall. He came when no one else would bother.'

The feather tugged again, and this time you let it go, watching as it dashed away into the chaos.

'I was his number one priority. Not because he knew I was alive, but because there was a chance of it.'

You took a deep breath, and despite the numbing pain all long your body and the hurt that still echoed in your heart, you were lighter for it.

'I'm alive. Thank you.'

#BNHA #Takami Keigo #Hawks x Reader #Takami Keigo x Reader #Quiet Devotion

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talpup · 4 years

Text

Lost Song: 2

Summary: The war between the Dragons and Griffons ended 233 years ago, and both races right along with it.

Or so it was believed. There are three individuals that will soon change that.

Kai is the last of the Dragons and he seeks to take what he sees as his rightful place and rule over all of Oblvi. Meanwhile, Shouta, the last Sphinx, wants nothing more than to do his job; keep the peace and and teach the young Fourth’s to hopefully avoid the mistakes of their ancestors. And Teris, a Foundling who is just trying to understand and survive in this strange new world that is supposedly her own.

All three have their own wants and desires, but Kai’s plans, Teris’ existence, and Shouta's past mean that none of them may get what they want.

***So this fic will have a LOT more world building than my others. Please feel free to comment or send me an ask if you have any questions.

This fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers.

If you prefer reading off AO3 here’s the link for that: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24009679/chapters/57812554

I write for my own enjoyment, but edit and post for yours. If you enjoyed reading this at all please comment and let me know. It’s the only thing that encourages me to keep editing and posting.

Special thank you to @inorganicone2230 who knows of my love for the mythic and encouraged me to start this fic without stressing about the other two I’ve got going. Your friendship means the world to me.

Thank you to those who have left hearts. And a special thank you to those who have left comments or re-blogged. They really mean a lot.

2.1

“Why are we waiting out in the hall?” Teris asked, eyeing the closed double doors.

“Because.” Twice snapped. “I’m sorry Mistress. Ilca dorms are protected.” The House Elf went on in meek apology. “One can’t enter unless a member of the resident Ilca or invited in by one.” Seeing a copy of himself Twice turned and demanded. “Have you seen Aizawa? He’s making the Mistress wait.”

The copy escorting Hizashi shook his head in answer and scolded. “Remember what Nedzu said. No calling the Mistress, Mistress.”

Twice huffed at his copy, waving him away.

As if sucked into a whirlpool, the copy spun around and disappeared.

“Wha--” Hizashi shook his head. The sight, though astounding, wasn’t the strangest thing he had seen these last two days. “Teris!” Hizashi rushed to her.

Twice stepped in Hizashi’s way, a warding hand outstretched. “No touching the Mistress!”

“Hey.” Teris snapped. “I’m not your Mistress. And he’s my friend.”

“Weak, unknowing friend.” Twice snipped, his next words smooth and sweeter. “The Mistress is too kind.”

Hizashi stepped around the House Elf and hugged Teris in a warm, friendly embrace. Though they had only met each other a couple days ago they were in this boat together. Cast adrift in unknown waters. Surrounded by literal monsters, all be it in human form, and told that this was their new home. Their new life. An experience like that would make fast friend's of anyone.

Teris stiffened but accepted Hizashi's hug. She couldn’t say why she felt a protective instinct over Hizashi. The sense of kinship was easily explained by the upheaval they were both going through. But her guarded jealousy of him was different. It wasn’t romantic. More familial. Only deeper. More binding. Hizashi was hers. And in a sense a part of her.

“How was the person who will be helping you learn? Did they treat you well?” If they didn’t I’ll be paying them a visit, she thought.

“Oboro? Yeah! He seems like a fun guy. He’s some kind of wind spirit called a Venti though he seemed pretty solid to me. What about you?”

“Kai was… alright.”

Neither saw Twice’s lip curl at the mention of the Dragon.

Hizashi frowned. “You don’t sound so sure. Maybe they’ll let you come with me. Oboro was really nice.”

“You heard what Yagi and Director Nedzu said about the difference of divisions. Apparently I’m a beast and need to be taught by one.”

Twice nodded firmly. “Kind for kind. Fourth’s learn best from their own. If no direct species can be found, genus, order, class, phylum, and lastly division kind for kind must be sought. The closer line of connection. The better it is for all. Less chance of death and devastation.”

“Death and devastation!” Teris balked.

“Too loud.” A rough, low voice complained. Shouta fixed tired eyes on Twice. “Sprite. Quit scaring my Ilca.”

“I’m not scaring. Yes I am! The Mistress must be protected. You’re late!”

Shouta's eyebrows pulled together. Mistress? He mouthed the word, wondering at it. Too exhausted to contemplate the idiosyncrasies of the clearly insane House Elf, he simply dismissed. “Go away.”

Damn his class, Shouta thought, rubbing the back of his stress tightened neck. He loved and would die for his students. But on days like today, he just wanted to bind them all with his capture weapon, throw them in a dungeon, and forget they existed for a couple of weeks while he caught up on some much needed sleep.

Bakugou and Midoriya especially had been in rare form this afternoon. It had been as if the two finally found something they agreed upon something. And that thing had been testing him. The Basilisk was extra aggressive toward everyone, spitting literal venom at his friends. And Midoriya… The Thoth was even more interested in exploring the limits of his own immortality. As if the kid had read in one of his books that today was some great day to die.

Naturally, Midoriya had ended up at the healers. Again. And when Shouta went to check on him at the end of the day he had gotten an earful from Shuzenji. The old Nagual admonishing him to inform Midoriya what she no doubt told the boy every time he ended up in the healers. That just because Fourth’s were immortal didn’t mean they couldn’t die.

Twice spun around to Hizashi, remembering the questions and conversation he had bothered his copy with. “You...”

There was an audible pop that left Hizashi's ears feeling as if he hadn’t swallowed during an altitude change. For a moment he thought the House Elf had disappeared. But quickly realized that wasn’t the case. Twice had shrunk in size. He remembered what Oboro had said about true forms and wondered it this was Twice’s. It was cute.

Before Hizashi could ooh and aah, Twice went on, voice sounding as if he had taken a drag of helium. “Don’t speak to me unless you have a task or order that falls within my domain.”

“Sorry…” Hizashi’s apology sounded more like a question.

Pitch growing higher, Twice continued to shrink like a deflating balloon, he bowed to Teris. “Mistress. If ever you need anything. Don’t call! Don’t hesitate to call.”

Shouta’s eyes narrowed. House Elves cared nothing for the inhabitants of the house. The only thing that mattered to them was the house itself. The reason they did things such as cook and clean was because it kept the place well ordered and running smoothly. They weren’t servants. More like mildly malevolent caretakers of the home that tolerated the residents because things, including homes, went mad when left alone. So why was Twice offering assistance?

His headache pulsed in his temples. Shouta grunted and ordered. “Off with you.”

Twice hissed at the Sphinx, finally disappearing fully with a pop as he shrunk totally in on himself.

Hizashi blinked at the space Twice had been. “Well that was… interesting.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” Shouta sighed pushing passed them to get to the door.

He pushed one of the large double doors open and paused. New Ilca members usually swore something when Binding to an Ilca clan. From what he understood it was normally along the lines of being loyal to the Ilca clan they were joining and its purpose.

Shouta sighed. To hell with it. He was too tired to deal with all that. The two Foundling’s were lucky that he came by the dorm at all. A part of him had been tempted to leave them out of the secure housing that was, or at least use to be, his private sanctuary. It wasn’t as if Traverseen Hall didn’t have countless comfortable sitting or meeting rooms for the two to bed down in. But that would have hardly made for a good first impression. And, like it or not, these two were to be members of his Ilca. For the sake of peaceful cohabitation some effort had to be made.

“Welcome. I accept you, or whatever.�� Shouta mumbled stepping in and holding the door for them.

There. It was done. The Bind was set. He officially had two members in his Ilca.

“I’m Yamada Hizashi.” Hizashi held out a hand.

Shouta nodded, struggling to keep his eyes open. All he wanted was to get a few winks of sleep before it was time to go out on patrol. Just exchange names he drowsily told himself. Don’t be rude. For the sake of peaceful cohabitation, just try to be nice.

“Good for you.” Shouta stifled a yawn.

Teris stepped forward. “Are we boring you?”

Shouta turned to the woman for the first time. His sight sharpened his senses enough for his weary mind to register the warm electric feeling that had been buzzing deep within him. Her. She was… Beautiful. No. Well, yes. She was beautiful. But that wasn’t what the tingling feeling was. Her powers aura. She was of ancient pedigree.

Suddenly Shouta felt wide awake. “Not in the least.” He cleared his throat, noticing Hizashi's hand. Clasping the blonde’s forearm with a hand, he gave a firm squeeze of greeting. “Aizawa. Shouta.” He turned back to Teris. “And you are?”

“Nova Teris.” She took one look at Shouta's outstretched hand and pointedly turned away. The man was rude. He had already hurt Hizashi's feelings. She didn’t like him.

Hand falling to his side without a care of her snub, Shouta set down the stack of homework that needed grading. “I don’t have much stored in the kitchen. But call for Twice. He’ll complain about it, but will make you whatever you want. You two do know how to call for the House Elf, don’t you?”

Hizashi nodded, smiling. Happy to actually know something. Oboro had taught him how to do it earlier in the day. It wasn’t so much the name as the will behind it.

“Twice!” Hizashi called.

“No! Don’t--”

But it was too late. Twice appeared.

Shouta glared at Hizashi, unsuccessfully stifling a growl.

“What is it? How may I help you?” Twice asked.

“Go away.” Shouta ordered.

Within the confines of the dorms Shouta had claimed as Ilca leader, Twice was forced to obey whether he wanted to or not. The House Elf disappeared.

“It was a question. Not a test. What are you? One of my students?”

Teris moved between the glaring man and Hizashi. “And what are you? An asshole? It was an easy mistake. You’d think as a teacher you’d know how to be more clear with your questions.”

Shouta's head tilted. He took in Teris’ protective stance and smirked. “Pack beast.”

“What did you call me?”

Shouta all but rolled his eyes. “You hear me. Are you simply looking to be offended? You might not know much, but I know for a fact you were told you were a beast.”

Teris glared.

“What?” Shouta huffed. “I stated a fact. It’s not like I called you an asshole.”

“Because I wasn’t acting like one.” Teris retorted.

“That’s debatable.”

Hizashi’s eyes darted between the two. He hated conflict. “So! What are you?”

Shouta turned to the loud blonde. Why was he so loud? Maybe it just seemed that way because he was overtired. His exhaustion returned, making his shoulders sag. “Sphinx.”

“Can we see your true form?” Hizashi asked, brightly.

“No. True forms aren’t some parlor trick.” He heard Teris’ low growl and struggled not to growl in return.

Damn it. So much for good first impressions and peaceful cohabitation. Shouta opened his mouth to tell the sad looking Hizashi maybe later, but thought better of it. He wasn’t the best at socializing; and his temper and exhaustion clearly weren’t helping him. The longer he stayed the worse he would make of this.

“Look. I got patrol in less than an hour. There’s eight open quarters to chose from. Pick whichever one you like. You know how to call Twice if you need him. Please. For your sake and mine. Don’t call the House Elf unless it’s to give an order that has to do with some sort of household chore. They can be spiteful when offended. Causing inconveniences ranging from too cold or too hot rooms. Blaring light at night. Damp or torn clothes. Or worse, clothes washed in a Tongons sty. And their grudges can last for centuries.”

Hizashi deflated even further at that. “H—how do you make it up to them?”

“You don’t.” Shouta said simply. He made for the door and opened it. “And don’t go destroying my—our place. It’s the only sanctuary I have.”

2.2

Hari found Kai in their Ilca dorms library. Seeing various books stacked and open on the nine large tables, the Arepyiai inquired. “Something I can help you search for, Sir?”

“Just looking for adequate material for my pupil to read.” Kai muttered without looking up for the tome his was skimming.

“The Foundling?”

“Teris. She has a name, Hari. And seems proud enough to demand its use.” Kai finished, softly.

Though the Dragons last words were meant for himself, Hari’s keen ears heard them. The Spirit raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you would take Nedzu’s assignment so seriously.”

“How so?”

“With as busy as you are, I thought you would pass her instruction on to one of the others.”

Kai snapped the book shut. “Would you like to instruct the Beast on the way of things?”

There was something almost possessive in Kai’s gold eyes. Hari found his own gray gaze, lowering. “I live to serve.”

At the proper response, Kai’s expression eased. “The Rat would hear about it if I pushed his tiresome task off on someone else. Nedzu’s already watchful enough. I’d rather not give him further excuse to stick his nose in my affairs. Besides, the aura of Teris’ power was... ancient.” He paused, remembering the tug of hope he had felt for a brief moment. The split second thought that he wasn’t alone. That another dragon had been found. A queen to rule at his side and help see his plans come to fruition. Kai shook away the memory and put the book in the maybe pile. “Who knows. Depending on what her species turns out to be, she might be found worthy of becoming a follower. But that would first require proper instruction.”

Hari nodded.

Dismissing the Arepyiai with a wave, Kai ordered. “Just be sure to tell the Ilca to be mindful during the day. Having her around will be a bit of an inconvenience. But it might be worth it.”

2.3

Shouta landed on the large balcony outside his quarters. Though there were luscious plants and a soothing fountain, the terrace was more than just some pretty place to sit and look at. It’s main purpose was as launching post, or in this case a landing pad for large fliers.

Though the place was littered with seating areas and clumping sections of green, there was just enough space for him to land comfortably while in his true form. He had tried clearing out the space of its fountain and plants. But Twice’s wrath wasn’t worth the headache, and so he had left it. So long as he didn’t have to tend to the flora he didn’t really care. If he were honest, it was nice to look at. Not that he ever had the time to do so.

The Sphinx stretched out his dabbled grey and black wings and shook out his wavy, black mane relishing these last few moments of being in his true form. It confounded how everyone else seemed perfectly happy to keep to their human forms. It made him wonder if no one else felt like they were breathing through a heavy mask.

For Shouta, it felt as if the world was seen through a too small window while in human form. As if he were touching things through a thick gloved hand. He wondered if maybe that was part of the reason for Bakugou's constant outbursts. That, like him, the Basilisk didn’t care for his human form. Only with Bakugou being younger and of a more volatile species, the Basilisk reacted by taking the dissociative discomfort out on those around him.

It wasn’t that Shouta didn’t appreciated the distinct abilities that came with being in human form; but those abilities could often feel minute when he was forced to spend roughly ninety percent of his day, everyday, in what felt like thick gelatin.

Sighing he returned to his human form, hands opening and closing, missing his claws. He opened the door and entered, already half asleep. Mind focused on the single thought of bed he didn’t fully register the warm, sweet scent that greeted him upon entering. Only that the smell was nice. Comforting.

The large, hard, cold bed pulled him toward it like a gravitational force. Uncaring about his clothes, Shouta fell face first into the warm, soft mattress. Wait. Warm? Soft?

The soft, warmth moved and started to rise beneath him. Shouta's head pulled off the plush pillow. His hand pushed the warm, soft back down.

“Lights!”

At the same time a female voice cried out. “Twice!”

This was the second time Teris had banished his foggy, exhaustion and got his blood pumping. Laying on top of her, Shouta realized that the pillow his face had been buried had been her breasts. His blood heated, pumping all the harder. Hand on one of the perfect, soft twin mounds, he squeezed ever so slightly.

Teris’ eyes dart from the Sphinx’s groping hand to his handsome-- No! Not handsome, face. “Do you mind?”

The sharp, sternness of her voice pulled Shouta's eyes up from the breast his hand was on. It really was a beautifully formed tit. Too bad it was attached to an ill tempered, bothersome woman who shouldn’t be in his bed.

“Not all.” Shouta’s hand gave another squeeze, this one firmer. He heard her breath catch. Felt her nipple harden against his palm. He smirked, voice dropping an octave. “Clearly you don’t either.”

“Off! Get off!” Teris shoved him.

Shouta didn’t budge, arrogantly showing his power over her. With one last gentle squeeze he knelt up and got out of bed.

“What the hell is wrong with you? And where’s Twice? Twice!”

Shouta shook his head. She would wake up all of Traverseen Hall crying out like a Banshee. “The House Elf isn’t allow in my quarters while I’m here.”

“You—You’re quarters?”

Shouta's eyes narrowed. Was it the lighting and his exhaustion? Or had there be a slight physical sharpening of her features? “That’s right. Could you not tell this room was taken?”

Hugging the blanket to her chest, Teris looked about the space exasperated. “How, Aizawa? How was I suppose to tell? There’s nothing in here but limited furnishings. Not an ounce of anything personal. It’s not like the door had your name on it.”

She realized with a start that the smell. The warm and comforting scent should have been a clue. The other chambers she checked out hadn’t had that distinct, somewhat earthy musk. Her eyes widened as she realized the scent was purely Aizawa’s and hated herself for having liked it.

Cheeks colored in angry embarrassment, Teris tripped out of bed. “This is your fault.”

“My fault? How so?” Shouta crossed his arms, both annoyed and amused.

“You should've stuck around.”

“Forgive me, Princess. I have a job to do. Two in fact. Babysitting you wasn’t something I signed up for. I don’t know what it was like before you were found but I’m not here to serve and cater to your whims.”

Teris glared.

Shouta stared. There it was again. The barest sharpening of her features that looked almost bird-like. The world around them faded as his mind worked furiously. A feeling of awe and foreboding grew deep in his chest.

She was a pack beast. Had clearly claimed Hizashi as a member of her pack. Prideful. Jealousy protective of what she had claimed. Her power had an ancient aura. And Twice… Twice called her Mistress. What had Traverseen Hall originally been before it was a school and home of the area Ilca? That’s right. Before the Fall of Crowns that saw the end of the Dragon-Griffon War. Traverseen Hall had been the home of a griffon pride. Built long before the Dragon-Griffon War for one of the oldest, proudest griffon prides there ever was.

#bnha #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #kai chisaki #chisaki kai #hizashi yamada #yamada hizashi #jin bubaigawara #hari kurono #my hero academia #fantasy #fanfic #lost song

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flatorangecat · 6 years

Text

I didn’t know what to name this so it won’t have a title. Just a warning this includes some spoilers for DeltaRune, as it is in the perspective of someone who has just completed the pacifist run of the game. Not really meant for anything, just a snip of story.

It seemed like so long since you had last seen the surface. Susie turned to you, reflecting your own confusion as the two of you stood amongst the discarded games of playing cards, blocks, and chess pieces. The day had been long enough fighting to maintain the balance of light and darkness within the word, but discovering the whole thing may have only been a dream weighed on your shoulders even more.

Even so, the two of you decided to head home, as the sun danced low along the horizon and you didn’t want your mother to worry. You weren’t sure how the passage of time worked between this world and the other, but you were sure by the sunset as you strolled through town that about half a day had elapsed as you took your adventure. It had been a while since you went through the routine, so out of curiosity you stopped at every establishment to reintroduce yourself to the locals before finding your way back home.

Some things hadn’t changed, familiar faces revealed themselves, though not in the same context as before. Others didn’t change, like the good ‘ol Librarby that sat a block away from your school. Burger pants seemed to recognize you immediately, raising your hopes slightly. At first you thought he remembered you - the real you, from before- but he deviated to talk about Asriel and the past you two shared growing up together with the king and queen. No talk of previous jobs or fancy dancing robots who made him sell burgers adorned with edible sequins (though after stopping at the diner you realized those still existed). You were still the only one whose consciousness persisted through the timelines. Despite how many times they changed, you were still you.

Sadness began to pull at your soul the more you listened to the townsfolk relay their stories. Some relationships blossomed, whereas others you knew were meant to be together didn’t even know the other existed. You quickened your pace until you came across what looked like a familiar establishment a street up from your house. It almost looked like Grillby’s, but all the letters had been scribbled over the abandoned building with graffiti save for the ‘S’ at the end. Instead, the letter remained to help spell a new word, a name- Sans.

Your soul jumped a little, remembering one of your previous encounters with Sans. The morbidly curious aspect of yourself had gotten the better of you, leading you astray from the true path and straight down the road to mass genocide. Sans was the only one who seemed to understand the anomalies, and partially how you seemed to be connected with them. If there was anyone other than you who could remember times from before, it would be him. Aside from the first fallen child, that is. After spacing out at the sign for a moment to recount that, you half smiled when you recognized a small skeleton lounging on the front steps of the boarded up building.

“Hey, long time no see.” You commented. Sans gave you a blank stare with his quinticential toothy grin.

“hey buddy. think you might have the wrong person, we’ve never met before. my bro and i just moved into town here.” You fought back the burning sensation that began to build behind your eyes. Not even he knew what was going on.

“Right.. I- I thought you would remember me is all. Sorry.” Instead of continuing the awkward conversation you turned to leave, actually heading for home this time to bury your head under the covers of the mess you call a bed. A voice called out from behind you to wait a minute so you reluctantly turned around.

“am i supposed to know you?” Sans asked, expressing genuine concern and confusion across his skull. You bit the inside of your lip briefly.

“Yeah. You’re supposed to know asriel, and my mom-“

“of course i know your mom, i was aquatinted with her last night.” He laughs and gives you a wink. You clench your fists.

“Sans I’m being serious! You dont even know who I am. And it’s just.. frustrating. But I’m guess I’m expecting too much, aren’t I. Try to change the timelines again, convince Chara to help open the barrier so the other children would be spared, but at what cost is it for everyone else’s lives to practically be ruined?” Sans began to advance towards you, arms outstretched as if that could calm you down.

“it looks like this is a pretty nice town, the people here seem happy.” Your eyes narrow are you snap to him.

“How closely are you looking? Besides, in this timeline you don’t even know anyone other than your brother so how would you expect to understand what’s going on. I thought there was more to you but in reality you’re just another one of them. Another part of the game that I changed.” A guilt formed a pit in your stomach. You didn’t mean to go off on sans, but that had been the last straw to break your back. He meant so much you you, your friendship, your relationship, was now meaningless. You sank down to the ground, drained of energy. Sans placed a hand on your back tentatively to rub small circles.

“‘m sorry, didn’t mean to hit a nerve.”

“You can’t help it. It’s fine.” You shrugged out of his grasp and set course for home finally. Maybe getting some sleep would help you forget this confusing nightmare. Maybe it would help clear your mind before you impulsively reset again. After greeting your mom at the door you strode straight to your room, kicked off your shoes, and threw the covers over your head before nodding off recounting the curious new characters you met earlier.

—————-

You woke with a start, struggling about trying to find the edge of your blankets. Something was cutting off your air flow, making it impossible to sleep, let alone breathe. When you finally got out from under the covers you realized it wasn’t something, but someone instead. The force on your soul tightened as you focused on it, causing you to double over onto the floor and clutch at your chest. As if by instinct, your body began to move on its own. The hand that clutched your chest dug tighter and tighter into the skin, pain nearly blinding you until you saw a flash of red. You realized too late you weren’t in control any more.

Suddenly the perspective changed and you were thrown against something cold and hard. You tried to look around but your senses had been clouded. Colors surrounded you, but no distinguishable features could be found. The sound of screeching metal clued you in that you somehow wound up in the old birdcage on the corner of your room. Only your pain radiated through the darkness, not even the silence could comfort you. Just then a voice spoke- your voice. Except you weren’t speaking.

“Oh how long has it been since I inhabited this body. I have to say, you did a good job of keeping it warm for me.” Your thoughts buzzed with frustration. A chill ran down your now nonexistent spine as you realized who this was. They acknowledged your shift in emotion.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about you. Think you’ll find this spot nice and cozy for some time while I take this baby out for a test drive. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

You did mind, actually.

“Great. Well, if youll excuse me,” there was a faint scraping sound as they pulled something out and laughed. “I have some unfinished business to attend to.” Footsteps sounded as Chara exited the room, leaving you alone in your thoughts. You tried to cry out and warn everyone, even though they weren’t the same ones you knew from before, you still cared about them. You still wanted to warn them about the dangers that lay ahead. But nothing happened. All you could do was sit there, alone, in the cage, until you could figure a way to take your body back from the one who stole it in the previous life.

#undertale #deltarune #writing #kai speaks #i couldnt sleep and just finished he game so i thought id write #kinda focus on sans cause mc likes him #mc is frisk ?? kinda ??#considering this as an alternate timeline i guess so since Kris would be Frisk #idk

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randomly-random-jen · 6 years

Text

Heaven Can’t Wait - Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four - He Can Afford to Give Her This

The door to the Guard office is locked so Bellamy punches in his code and flips on the lights. Heaven starts looking around, opening storage cabinets and poking in dark corners. He digs through the desk drawers until he finds what he’s looking for—an old paper accounting journal. The pages are brittle and yellowed with age—the writing too faded to be of any use. Paper, pencils, crayons. That kind of stuff is hard to find in a world without manufacturing. After a hundred years, most all of it in a two-hundred-mile radius has been found and used.

But he can afford to give her this. She happily sits on his lap scribbling with what’s left of her crayon. Bellamy just watches her. The hair at the back of her head is still a tangled mess. He doesn’t have a brush, so he combs through it with his fingers. She doesn’t seem to mind as long as he’s gentle. He slowly works through the knots, but some patches are so matted, there’s nothing he can do. He continues to play with her hair anyway.

How did he get to this? How did his life unravel so quickly? He rubs his face. He needs to keep his mind off of things. He reaches over and snags a tablet from the desk, pulling up the reports from the incident in the yard. He flips back and forth between the six files without reading. This is it? Six reports? There were easily a hundred people in the yard. At least a dozen guards. But only six reports.

Of course, Bellamy can’t say much since he hasn’t filed one yet either. He leans back, tapping at the tablet, detailing what he remembers. Which, honestly, isn’t much. If only he had been paying more attention, jumped in sooner, done something more. If only.

The clans will retaliate. He knows it. That’s just how it works—an eye for an eye; blood for blood. Lexa tried to change it, but she’s gone now. He’s surprised it hasn’t happened already.

There are one hundred thirty-six Grounders, mostly Trikru, in Arkadia. They have quarters on the west side of the station with one of the larger rooms converted into a common area. They still have access to public parts of the station, though—the mess hall and Medbay. And that’s too much for some of the Arkadians. It isn’t ideal for any of them, and things are only going to get worse, the longer they're forced to live together.

Bellamy isn’t sure how Indra is fairing on her end, but Kane is losing control over here. He just doesn’t want to see it. Without the Guard backing him up, he has almost no authority. The anti-Grounder contingency is restless and building momentum. He’ll have another coup on his hands before long. He has to know that, right? God, Bellamy’s tired.

They have five years to get through without killing each other. That won’t happen with people like Tyson and Olsen and Henderson running around seeking “justice.” They’re as bad as the Grounders they hate so much.

Bellamy never liked Lexa much, but he admired her commitment to peace. It’s not easy to change hundred-year-old attitudes—to stop generations of killing—but she didn’t give up until her dying breath. He shakes his head. They have to do better this time. Whether it’s to honor Lexa’s legacy or for the futures of generations to come, they have to do better.

He wants a world to live in some day, not just survive.

Maybe not for me but for those who deserve it.

For Heaven.

The more he stares at the reports—the more he thinks about it—the more he realizes he’s going to take Kane’s stupid job offer. He doesn’t want all of that responsibility, but what choice does he have? He can’t sit by and watch things fall apart again. This time I’ll be on the right side. He won’t make the same mistakes.

Just a whole bunch of new ones.

Bellamy’s back aches from sitting in the chair. It’s around 5 a.m. now. The shifts will be changing soon. What he really wants is to sleep in his own bed for once. And if he remembers correctly, Miller and Bryan have duty this shift. Tossing the tablet onto the desk, he lifts Heaven to his shoulder where she rests her head, breathing softly against his neck.

His quarters are blissfully empty when they get there, and he finds Clarke’s book on his bed. No note or anything. Abby probably left it.

Not sure why—she won’t be here much longer. You don’t need it, the voice reminds him. Like he could forget.

He shakes away the thoughts, curling into bed with Heaven and the book. Her eyelids drift shut around the third time through. He softly drops the book to the floor and tries to get comfortable.

He’s tired. So tired. But he can’t sleep. Every time he closes his eyes he hears their screams. The pop pop pop of gunfire. It lit up the night in sickening bursts of horror. His stomach knots. He can smell the blood and gunpowder and death.

Bellamy stares at the ceiling until his eyes sting and he’s forced to blink. He looks over at Heaven—thumb falling from her mouth, eyelids fluttering slightly. She’s the only thing that’s kept him centered lately. The only truly good thing in his life.

She’s leaving soon, though. Probably in the morning. Then what?

He wishes he knew.

When Heaven wakes up several hours later, Bellamy’s eyes are burning and ringed red with exhaustion. He decides to get them both washed up which isn’t exactly easy in the minuscule bathroom. Heaven manages to balance on the edge of the metal sink while he washes her face and hands. Then she does the same for him, getting soap everywhere. They brush their teeth with their fingers because he doesn’t have a toothbrush. Heaven thinks all of this is hilarious. Until they get to the hair.

Bellamy’s comb has more teeth missing than not, but it works for him. Not that he spends much time combing his hair. He quickly runs it through his curls until they’re not tangled and sticking up all over. Heaven eyes the device with suspicion, nose scrunched.

“Come on.” He leads her into the bedroom and sits on the edge of the bed with her between his knees. But he doesn’t get any farther than he did the last two times he’s tried before Heaven starts whining. Also growling. Which makes him smile. He turns her around. “You know what, I think we’re going to have to try something different with this mess. How about a haircut?”

Heaven cocks her head. Somewhere, he has scissors. He knows because he cut his own hair not that long ago and forgot to return them to Harper. He digs through his desk until he finds them then stares at her hair. If she was suspicious of the comb, she’s downright hostile towards the scissors.

Her nostrils flare the closer he gets to her head, eyes narrowed to slits and focused on the scissors. Bellamy backs off a little until her breathing steadies. Needing a new tactic, he snips a bit from one side of his bangs, letting the hair float to the ground. “See, it’s easy. We’ll just cut the tangles off. It’ll feel a lot better. Trust me.”

She considers the bits of hair on the ground then blinks up at him with huge trusting eyes that are like a vice around his chest, forcing out all the air. He takes slow breaths as she sits still on the desk chair while he hacks at her hair. The panicky feeling subsides.

When he’s done, the hair isn’t very even, but he managed to cut out the largest knots, allowing him to comb through the rest. He takes her to the mirror in the bathroom and holds his breath. He remembers Octavia freaking out after seeing her hair gone. Heaven turns her head back and forth, brow furrowed.

“I know it’s not that great but-”

She shakes her head—hair flying out and smacking him in the face.

“Right, okay.”

She giggles so Bellamy scoops her up over his shoulder with a chuckle, unable to hide his amusement.

“You are a snot, you know that?”

Her giggles turn into squeals as he tickles her sides.

Then her stomach growls close to his ear. Bellamy settles her in his arms. “You hungry?” He mimes eating, and for once she responds with a sharp nod.

He feels so many emotions in that moment, he can’t describe them all. Mostly there’s love. He hugs her tight, wishing he never had to let go.

I warned you about getting attached, the voice says. She’s going to leave you. Like everyone else.

Bellamy ignores it.

Chapter 23 | Chapters | Chapter 25

#fanfic #the 100 fanfic #bellarke fanfiction #heaven can't wait

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frangipanidownunder · 7 years

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Walking the Tightrope

Part One

Scully and Ethan are together. But for how long?

Post Pilot. Tagging @today-in-fic

When she put the phone down she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. The Billy Miles case had been unsettling on a level she wasn’t prepared to admit just yet. She’d gone along for Mulder’s ride with more than large dose of scepticism packed in her case. But her resolve to be rational went out the window, along with her pride, after she disrobed before him. His tenderness towards her was a surprise. That he’d shown his vulnerability with his sister’s story was an even bigger surprise.

She got up and made tea. She considered calling Ethan but she could already hear the snip in his voice, the way he’d talk over her if she so much as mentioned her new role.

“Dana, if you’re going to be a spy, shouldn’t you be in the CIA?”

Ethan Minette was a great boyfriend. Just not for Dana Scully. She kind of knew that before she’d got the request from Blevins. Ethan was sweet in the beginning, considerate, interesting and intelligent. But he had started to become self-absorbed and even a little jealous of her career.

“I booked us a table and you didn’t show up.”

“I told you I was flying out the next morning. I couldn’t have a late night.”

“But you’re talking to me after 1am, Dana. Seems you can have a late night with Spooky Mulder, but not your own boyfriend.”

She’d nearly hung up, but she took a deep breath, picked up the specimen jar containing the strange object removed from Billy Miles and held it up to look at it for tenth time. “You called me, Ethan.”

“And you were still awake.”

“This is going nowhere. I’ll see you when I’m home.”

His curt, “Will you?” left her edgy and she wished she could go for a run. She could hear Mulder moving around next door and she knew he would be willing to accompany her, but instead, she tried to add details to her report. Details that didn’t exist.

Sipping her tea, with a better perspective, she could see that now that she’d worked a full case with Spooky Mulder and found him less spooky and more intriguing, she had that bubble of nervous energy working its way around her gut telling her that she needed to do the right thing and let Ethan go.

She was rinsing the cup when she heard the knock at the door. A frisson of fear ran through her. She reached for her weapon with one hand and held the other at her throat, holding the collars of her robe together. It was probably Ethan, she reasoned. Anxious to see her, and she wanted to think it was a good thing, that he was being attentive. But it was gone midnight and she hadn’t slept well for days. By the time she tiptoed to the door, reason had turned to anger. What right did he have to just show up like this? She wasn’t his property. She was still gripping the gun and she didn’t care. Holding her breath until she gasped at the second knock, harder this time, and followed by a low male voice.

“Scully, it’s me.”

Relief flooded her system. She unlocked the door and let Mulder in.

“Were you going to shoot me?” he said, looking at the Sig in her hand.

“I thought you were my boyfriend,” she said, locking the door again.

His mouth dropped open and then shut again. She felt the flush bloom over her chest and neck and up to her cheeks.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

Mulder grinned. “Remind me never to ask you out, Scully. I’ve heard you’re a pretty mean shot.”

She giggled and sounded about twelve. “Treat me with respect, Mulder and you’ll never have to find out.”

His grin fell away. “I hope you don’t mind me coming here. I don’t mean to get in the way of your private life. If you were expecting your boyfriend, I can leave. I’ll see you in a few hours anyway.”

“It’s fine. I wasn’t expecting him, but I couldn’t think of anyone else who would show up here. Do you want something to drink? Tea, coffee?”

He shook his head. “I just wanted to talk to you about the case. Is that all right?”

She showed him to the couch. “What more is there to talk about? They buried the evidence. My report was trashed. Our voices have been drowned out.”

His weight on the sofa felt different to Ethan’s. Mulder was taller, took up more space, but somehow it felt more comfortable. She sat like she would without anyone there, cross-legged on the seat, hair tied in a loose pony-tail, no make-up, no pretences.

“Scully, I know you were sent to spy on me but I think this case has shown you that what I’ve discovered in the X-Files, the things I’ve seen, I’ve learned…I…I think you can see that the work is valid.”

His face was open, his eyes trained on her, his jaw flexing. She felt a buzz in the pit of her stomach, a familiar ache, something that she hadn’t experienced for the longest time. Excitement, anticipation, rising tension. It was building within her as he spoke. His face, his body language, the way he talked faster and stammered, was evidence of his passion, his complete commitment to his work. Fox Mulder was intensity personified and she felt alive.

When his hand rested on her knee, she swallowed back thick saliva, tasted more than just the tea – it was the tang of arousal and she flushed. She looked up at him, still talking, still explaining the bizarre and the arcane, the conspiracies and the paranoia. He was oblivious to the power he commanded. He had no clue about how he exuded sensuality through this passion of his. She stayed still, holding her breath, lest the shuddery exhale give away her own vulnerability. She was his partner, for God’s sake. She’d already walked that tightrope before and there was no way she was going to give in to emotions so readily. She promised herself she wouldn’t go there anymore. Clearly, she needed distance to work with this man, she needed boundaries. She needed to build some walls.

Her cell rang and she jumped. Mulder stopped talking, surprised to be interrupted. He didn’t move his hand though, even when she leaned across to the coffee table to pick up the phone.

“Ethan?” she said. Fuck. She already had distance, a boundary, a wall. And his name was Ethan. “Why are you calling me so late?”

Mulder leant back against the couch and smiled that lazy, sexy smile. His arms tucked behind his head and his body was on the diagonal so that his knees touched hers. She felt the buzz and she couldn’t move.

“I’m not doing anything. I’m trying to sleep.”

Mulder grinned and shook his head slightly. He was loving this.

“I’m in bed, Ethan. And it’s late. And I’ve had a big week.”

He leant forward now, elbows on knees, face up against hers, and whispered. “I’ll see you later, Scully.”

She watched him stand and walk to the door. She followed. “Thanks for coming over,” she said. He turned and winked to her. She heard Ethan’s voice in her ear and gulped. “No, Ethan. I didn’t say anything. There’s nobody here. I’ll call you later.”

Mulder stood in the doorframe. “You’re a terrible liar, Scully.”

She blushed. “He’s been worried about me. The job, the case.”

He nodded. “But you’re an FBI agent. You can take care of yourself, make your own decisions. I’m sure Ethan will understand.”

“He does,” she said. But as Mulder pointed out. She was a terrible liar.

“Goodnight, Scully. Sleep tight.” He laid a hand on her forearm and looked right into her. They stayed that way for a long, long beat.

“Night, Mulder,” she said, finally.

But she knew when she shut the door she wouldn’t be able to sleep.

#txf fanfic #my fanfiction #post pilot #ethan minette #todayinfic #to be continued

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theclaravoyant · 7 years

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Sparks - Ch.2 - [Simmorse]

Jemma Anne Simmons is a renowned crime & espionage writer. When she is attacked at a book reading, she is assigned a bodyguard - none other than Bobbi Morse, a real life former secret agent, whom she is about to meet...

Rated T. Contains references to animal cruelty and police violence (no actual occurrences). This fic will have 6 chapters & be updated approx every 48 hours.

Read Chapter One Read on AO3

Sparks - Ch.2

“No-“

It was the morning after The Incident, and Jemma’s phone had been ringing off the hook since she’d awoken. She rolled her eyes at the somewhat frantic voice on the other end of the line: it was hard to get a word in edgewise with her mother at the best of times, not least when she was worried. They’d been arguing back and forth for a good half an hour now, and Jemma had taken up a spot in front of her dresser mirror, tweaking her hair as they talked. It didn’t quite sit right, or feel right – and of course it wouldn’t, having been dunked in paint and then washed to within an inch of its life. Jemma could swear that she could still see red, no matter how she pulled at it or tucked it away or patted it down.

“Mum I’m not scared,” she insisted. “I just need to help Daisy clean up! She puts every penny into that store, I can’t just – No, It’s just a little reshuffle, some rescheduling, the- no, Mum, the magazines are after me even more, if anything, it’ll be fine! I promise! Ugh, –“

She glared into the mirror as her mother repeated for at least the fourth time that morning, that she “shouldn’t let the haters win.” Jemma groaned.

“Mum – Mum, you’re using ‘hater’ wrong. She wasn’t ‘a hater’, she threw blood at me. Literally! Blood! Well, fake blood, but the symbolism was there. This isn’t some slighted fan who thinks Fitz and Ophelia should have ended up together, this is a woman who thinks I dismember baby animals in my free time for fun!”

Jemma had meant it to point out a logical difference in severity; she had long maintained a separation between literary criticism, and socio-political commentary surrounding herself and her work. Unfortunately, her mother did not see such a distinction – or at least didn’t find it comforting – and shrieked in Jemma’s ear, near hysterics. Jemma groaned.

“No, I’m not in danger, don’t be ridiculous!” she insisted, though her hand trembled a little as she adjusted her collar. “I’m spending the day at Daisy’s and that’s final! Why? What are you going to do about it, hm? Ground me?”

Jemma bit her lip. That would rein her mother in, for sure, but it wasn’t the most comfortable way of doing so: they’d had a major falling out when Jemma had insisted on moving to the States, and Marjorie Kathleen Simmons had never quite got over her little girl growing up.

“Just –“ she requested, resigned. “Just give it a try, love, okay?”

“Give what a try, Mum?” Jemma snipped.

“The meeting!” Marge repeated brusquely, just as frustrated as her daughter was, and now with a bitter edge of offense to her tone. “With the personal security agent! I’ve set it all up for you, at ten o’clock, that’s what this phone call was about! Since apparently, I can’t just call to tell my daughter I love her. She’s a grown woman, you know.”

Jemma nodded. It was cold, but she’d deserved that one.

“All right. Fine,” she conceded. “Where’s this meeting then?”

“Where did you say it was again?” Bobbi asked, glancing over the milling patrons instinctively as she peeled back the paper on her wrap and bit down. She had clean hair, new sunglasses, and Cajun chicken and salad. The small blessings in life. And, possibly, a job interview. Feeling quite victorious, Bobbi smiled into a warm ray of sunshine as Hunter returned to the table with some Mexican sodas and a plate of nachos.

“It’s some swanky publishing office uptown,” he explained. “Triskellion. It’s for that author - you know, the rabbit killer. Whatsername. Simmons. Apparently with all this fearmongering about, her people thought they’d better get prepared before it escalates.”

Bobbi hummed thoughtfully. By some estimates, hiring a bodyguard was escalating the situation in and of itself, but she couldn’t blame this Simmons woman for being worried. A lot worse things happened to perfectly ordinary people these days than getting covered in a bit of paint, especially where there was a political stand and media spectacle to be had.

“Come on!” Hunter cried, seeing her hesitation. “You can not still be thinking about this! It’s perfect! Gives you money, socialisation, a reason to get out of bed, get out of the house - and keeps your skills sharp.”

“And what if my skills are too sharp, hm?” Bobbi retorted. She glanced around at the people that milled about on their own lunch breaks, and leaned across the table. “I don’t want to be one of those cops on the news. I don’t want some poor soul to lose their life because my trigger finger was a little too itchy. I’m a soldier. I’m not built to stand around and look pretty.”

“Contrary to popular belief.”

Bobbi snorted. Hunter’s expression sobered and he nodded in sympathy.

“I get it, Bob. I do,” he assured her. “But you haven’t got a bad call against you yet, and you’ve got to get back on the horse eventually. Midday naps and the sound of my voice, dulcet though it is, aren’t going to keep you going. You need sustenance – I’m talking physical and mental. You, my dear, need a job. And the pickings are slim out there, so unless you want to try making a living as a model for hair products, this is what I’ve got.”

Bobbi snorted. Hunter cracked open a bottle of soda and passed it to her.

“Look,” he offered. “How ‘bout you don’t take a gun into the field? That way, you can do a lot less damage on the off chance you do lose your marbles, but you’ll still be offering this Simmons girl the best in the business. Think about it. You could still defend her, and yourself, without putting anyone else in danger unnecessarily. You know you have the skills for it.”

“Mm. But… my knee –“

“Just needs a bit of a stretch! And if you have a good reason to look after it, you’ll build strength back up in no time. Plus, meantime, you can teach Ms Simmons how to defend herself, so you won’t even be bending the truth that far.”

Bobbi glared at him. She was running out of reasons – out of excuses – and he knew it. He winked at her.

“C’mon Bob,” he teased. “She’s just your type, too.”

As Jemma made her way to Triskellion HQ, she began to rethink what she’d told her mother over the phone. She eyed every backpack that she passed with suspicion; she felt watched by every phone. She couldn’t help it. Her heart raced involuntarily and, standing in the elevator headed to the 23rd floor, she had to open her mouth and breathe like an overheated chicken to manage the feeling that the lift was going to suddenly come to a halt – or worse, come crashing down with her inside it. She was more relieved than she would admit when it came time to sprint down the hall, under the guise of running late, and duck into the stable, familiar room that was her publisher’s office.

“How’re you feeling?” asked Phil Coulson, her agent, already on his way to take her coat and pass a cup of tea (made with love, if not a great deal of skill) into her hands.

“Oh, you know,” Jemma said breathily, and shrugged. Her fingers clenched the mug of tea. “It could be worse.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” insisted Victoria Hand, her publisher. Hand stood up from behind her desk with a fierce and solemn expression. “We look after our people here, Jemma. Phil here assures me he’s doing everything he can to arrange a counter-narrative for the media. He’ll no doubt be needing your help with that shortly, but in the meantime… your mother called, and suggested that we arrange for some personal security to accompany you until this goes away.”

“My mother has fingers in too many pies in my life,” Jemma complained. “Don’t mind her.”

“And I suppose the floors outside this office have suddenly changed to lava, or do you jog in those heels for fun?” Despite the slightest of raised eyebrows, Hand’s expression remained steady and powerful. “In this instance, I agreed with your mother. There’s too much at stake for people like us to walk around with a target on our backs and no shield on our arms. Just until this dies down, I think you should take up the offer. We can allocate a little from your events budget to supplement the cost. And, I believe, we’ve already found the perfect candidate.”

The door at the back of the office opened and Jemma turned to face the woman entering. Tall. Blonde. Sharp eyes. Biceps to kill for.

“Jemma Simmons,” Hand introduced. “Meet actual real-life former secret agent, Barbara Morse.”

“It’s Bobbi, please,” Bobbi corrected, and offered her hand.

“Bobbi. H-Hello. Simmons – Uh, Doctor Jemma Simmons.”

Jemma stepped forward to shake it, and Bobbi grinned. She was prim and proper, the type that carried authority with friendliness when she was in her element. At present, though, she was very much not in her element, and was staring up at Bobbi with bewilderment in her big, round eyes. They were a little entrancing. It was like staring down at a real life Disney princess. A real life princess who, apparently, thought she was Wonder Woman. Bobbi could work with that.

“I hear you’re in need of a little personal security?”

Unfortunately, that seemed to break the spell – though, Bobbi had to admit, even Jemma’s pout was adorable.

“Apparently,” Jemma grumbled, and then quickly recovered her sweet smile. “Not that I’m not grateful for your presence of course, Bobbi, it’s just that I find my many ‘parents’ a little overbearing at present, and I’m wondering if this isn’t an overreaction.”

She turned on the suit, Coulson, with a raised eyebrow. Ah, there was some of that authority. Bobbi pressed her lips together, determined not to speak ill of anyone, or look too amused, especially since she didn’t know who was hiring her.

“Well,” Coulson retorted, “I’m not letting you stand out against this in public any time soon without someone backing you up, so it’s your call.”

Jemma ground her teeth together. Hand’s lip twitched, amused by something of Jemma’s that Bobbi couldn’t see. After a moment, she smiled smoothly at Bobbi and gestured to a chair by her desk.

“Agent Morse,” she offered. “If you will.”

Bobbi took a deep breath. She definitely held the armrests too tightly and she definitely felt like swearing as she lowered herself into the seat, her knee feeling as stiff as a steel pipe, but once she was down, nobody was looking strangely at her. She was smiling as sweetly as Jemma had by the time the interview began.

#jemma simmons #bobbi morse #simmorse #aospositivitynet #aosficnet #aosfemslash #long post #clara's fic tag

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sakurasakiyama · 7 years

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Hakumyu Tag Game!

It has taken me a while, but I have finally finished the questions (at this post) given to me by @allyyyyy0619! I am sorry for them being answered so late but I had to think back and re-watch a couple of them to answer the questions.

To remind everyone now, these are my opinions and everyone’s is different from my own. You can feel free to disagree with me, but no hateful comments please. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion.

1. Which musical was the first that you have watched? Your impressions on the overall production?

The first musical I watched from the Hakumyu brand was actually Hijikata-hen. Overall, I absolutely loved it as I have heard of the actual game (but I have never played it) and seeing this as something different from most other musicals I had seen before this. The songs were all catchy, the storyline was really great and the actors did really well and it was good to see a few familiar faces when watching it for the first time.

2. Which musical is your favourite in terms of the song performances and why?

My favourite musical for the song performances…That one is a tough one to answer as they all have their low and high points. But if I have to choose, it would be Hijikata-hen for me as it was the first one I had seen and the songs just blew me away.

3. Which musical is your favourite in terms of the storyline and why?

My favourite when it comes to the storyline is Okita-hen. Although it was played by Hirose Daisuke which is one of the many actors I like. Okita Souji is someone different as he became ill throughout his time during the Shinsengumi and he wanted to keep it a secret until Chizuru found out. And to have that moment at the end when he finally falls for her makes it all worthwhile. I haven’t seen Harada-hen’s storyline yet, but as others do upload little snips of it, it looks really interesting!

4. Which musical is your least favourite in terms of the song performances and why?

I don’t think any of them I have watched so far don’t have any song performances I didn’t like. They were fun to watch and listen to and they match with the situations that are happening.

5. Which musical is your least favourite in terms of the storyline and why?

Least favourite in terms of the storyline…there are actually none that I didn’t like. They basically follow the same routes and end up falling for Chizuru (from what I have seen but it might be different for the others), so I don’t have a least favourite.

6. The musical that you didn’t initially love, but has/have grown on you?

The one that I didn’t love in the beginning was Toudou-hen. For some reason, when I watched it, it seemed different form the others. But then when I watched it again I loved it. Toudou can kind of be seen as a minor character in some of the other musicals, but when he got his own I was surprised, but you could see that even Toudou could fall for Chizuru, even though he would barely get any lines in the musicals beforehand. (As I will say, I haven’t seen them all so he might have more lines in the other musicals than from what I can remember)

7. Original or latest casts?

The original cast will always have a place in my heart as they made Hakumyu real to me. And from the first time I watched it, I knew that this Hakuouki project was something not wasted. I have seen the action of the latest casts and they have taken on well what the originals have left for them and have kept on going. So, this one is an undecided as I like them both.

8. Live 1 or Live 2?

I have seen both lives and this one is an undecided. That is because they both have their strong points and weak points but I do love them both equally. And the Lives signify that both old and new casts have had one live each and have performed to the best of their own abilities as their characters.

9. Favourite actors/characters?

My favourite actor/character would have to be Hirose Daisuke, Mikata Ryosuke, Aramaki Yoshihiko and Higarashi Keisuke from the top of my head to name a few. They all played their characters well and were serious when needed be, which made me like their characters (and Okita more as Daisuke and Yoshihiko play the same character).

10. Actor/actress whom you think has the best vocal skills?

The best vocal skills…they all have their highs and lows when it comes to singing so I can’t choose one at this current time.

11. Actor/actress whom you think did the best in bringing out the character into life

If I have to say, they all did the best making their characters come to life. And the new cast have continued to improve on those characters the old cast left for them.

12. Hijikata, Souji, Saito or Harada, Shinpachi, Heisuke?

I love them all, but I will have to pick Souji.

13. Favourite minor character?

My favourite minor character would have to be Sannan-san. When I first saw this character played by Mikata Ryosuke (from the original cast), he is basically a mad scientist that can give them infinite life, at the cost of becoming a crazy, uncontrollable demon (as well as himself).

14. Favourite Shinsengumi member?

My favourite Shinsengumi member would have to be Toudou and Souji. I like Toudou as he likes to play around sometimes but when he has to be serious, he will be. I also like Souji as he hides his emotions and just does his job as a member. Even when he becomes terminally ill, he still tries to act tough and hide his pain so he can fight alongside his friends which are like his family.

15. Favourite demon character?

My favourite demon character would have to be Kazama Chikage. When I first saw him come onto the stage, he was actually serious about taking Chizuru with him as she is obviously the exact same as him. The clothing Chikage wears is actually quite old fashioned but goes with how it would have looked like during that time frame. There could be more to say about him, but I will leave it at that (^_^)

16. Favourite Chizuru?

My favourite Chizuru would have to be Kikuchi Mika. She has a really good voice and you can feel the emotions that Chizuru would have felt for the Shinsengumi group within the game (and the little anime series).

17. The actors/characters that you didn’t initially love, but has/have grown on you?

I love all of them. I have not disliked any of them so far and I don’t plan on doing that any time soon.

18. Least favourite actors/characters? Why?

I don’t have a least favourite actor at this current moment. They all find a way to create their characters and can display them to the best of their current acting abilities.

19. Favourite solo song?

Favourite solo song would have to be Sannan-san’s solo (from the old cast, I can’t remember the name of it). He just becomes so serious and Ryosuke is a really good singer. Even when he changes into a demon during the song (due to being injured during their previous battle) and it shows the strength what becoming a demon is like and what it can do. Overall, I just love the song in general.

20. Favourite duet?

I do like Chizuru and Okita’s duet, but the one that tops the list is Chizuru and Hijikata’s duet at the end of Hijikata-hen. When listening to this song, you could feel the acting quality they had as they had to kiss each other at the end of the song. And you’re able to see the love and emotion Hijikata and Chizuru would have had in the game (if it is…I haven’t played it yet).

21. Favourite group song?

My favourite group song would have to be Yaisa! I don’t think I need to explain why, but I will. Yaisa is my favourite group song because it allows the cast to come together at the beginning and at the end of the show before they separate and become their characters who like/dislike each other. Yaisa is basically a song of unity to me (>v<)

22. Which Yaisa! is the best?

I do love the original Yaisa the most as when I first heard it, it gave me goose bumps and I was surprised at the manliness, yet harmony they gave when singing it. Which made me believe that they did feel like a group, they felt like a family just like how the Shinsengumi were.

23. The songs that you didn’t initially love, but has/have grown on you?

There weren’t any songs I didn’t like. I loved them all!

24. Which production are you most looking forward to?

As far as I know, there have been no announcements for a new Hakuouki after Harada-hen, but if there is one in the future, I will be looking forward to it!

25. What does hakumyu means to you?

What Hakumyu means to me is that it gives the chance for actors to play fictional characters but use the real names of the group that changed Japan history and is loved by many to this day. The characters to me are all wonderful old or new, and they have the chance to make the character their own and experience some of the things that might have happened to them. It gives actors the chance to see what it would have been like for the Shinsengumi to fight during those times and the battles they faced until it all came to an end. This Hakuouki Musical Project truly means that everyone has the opportunity to make their own history.

#hakumyu #hakuouki #musical #tag game

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sadrien · 7 years

Note

Do you have any finished stuff you can share with us pretty please? Or long snips???? :D

i looked through my drive and i dont have many things finished. i have about 50 wips, but nothing actually done.

i do have this chapter of a theater au i started last summer though. (i honestly havent looked at it since then so i apologize for whats probably very questionable writing) i stopped because of how unsure i was about theater in france and wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to write a story with such an inaccurate and americanized portrayal

but here, sans editing, is what wouldve been chapter one of paper stars

[let me know if there are issues opening the read more and ill post on ao3 or something because i know mobile breaks sometimes]

Marinette’s sketchbooks and bags are dumped on the floor, slowly taking over an entire row in the very back of the theater. Nino had asked her if she was moving in, like he doesn’t have a blanket and pillow stored in the light booth.

She doesn’t have to be here, but she’s always liked watching auditions. She doesn’t like having to audition — the thought makes her slightly nauseous — but watching them is always entertaining. It’s fascinating to see how people play their characters when they first audition compared to how they play them opening night. And the song choices sometimes lean towards the more humorous side. She missed the first day of auditions because she had to help out at the bakery and from Nino’s stories, she should’ve been there. Kim auditioned for the part of the fairy godmother, and supposedly, Alix has it on video. Marinette has to see that one.

There are also things that Marinette greatly dislikes about auditions. But at least no one has sang Popular yet this year.

Marinette leaves where she had been sitting with Nino near the front of the auditorium to move back to her stuff. Watching Juleka’s audition gave her sudden inspiration for a costume and she needs to doodle it before it vanishes forever.

It doesn’t matter though, because as soon as she sees the boy holding her sketchbook in his hand, the design is gone from her mind and replaced with frustration. When she sees the ripped out pages on top of it, her mind goes completely red. “Hey!” she snaps. “What do you think you’re doing with that?!” She snatches the sketchbook and pages away from him.

He blinks in surprise. “I—”

Chloé and Sabrina start laughing. Marinette hadn’t even noticed them sitting back here on her way over. She narrows her eyes and puts her hands on her hips. “Oh very funny, nice job, you three.”

The boy looks panicked. Marinette can’t seem to care, he shouldn’t have been going through her stuff. And he definitely shouldn't have been tearing pages from her sketchbook. “No no, I was—”

“Don’t touch other people’s things!” Marinette scoops up her bags as Chloé and Sabrina continue to laugh. She gives the boy a once over. “You’re friends with Chloé, aren’t you?” she asks, unimpressed.

“Yeah, but—”

“Hmph.” Marinette picks up her other sketchbooks. She’ll go back to sitting in the front with Nino. Away from Chloé, away from Sabrina, away from whoever this is.

“Yo, I thought you were gonna go into your zone,” Nino says as she drops down with all of her bags. He eyes her full arms. “Are you leaving?”

“No,” she grumbles. “Just Chloé being Chloé.”

“Did she try to steal your designs again?” Nino asks, voice dangerous.

“She didn’t.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Sabrina?”

“No, a boy had my sketchbook and Chloé was laughing and he had—” She shakes her head and shoves the ripped out pages at Nino. If she keeps talking she’s going to burst into tears and she is not giving Chloé the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

Nino takes the pages from her and twists around his seat. Marinette knows his gaze is sweeping the room and he’s ready to jump out of his seat to fight someone. “Wait hold on,” he taps Marinette’s shoulder, “was it that blond kid who’s sitting next to Chloé and looks a little like he’s going to puke?”

She turns around with a sigh, her eyes immediately landing on the boy. “Yes,” she mutters. “I’ve never even seen him before, but somehow Chloé has her nails inch deep in him already.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t go here,” Nino says softly, as someone steps onto the stage and announces his name. “His name’s Adrien. He’s homeschooled, but him and Chloé are friends. Maybe their families are close or something, I don’t know.”

“Homeschooled?” Marinette whispers back once he’s finished singing and is walking offstage. “Then why is he here? To torment me?”

Nino snorts. “Overdramatic much?”

“This is the drama club,” she points out.

“True. But nah, he auditioned. You would know that if you weren’t half an hour late,” he says pointedly.

“I had to run an errand.” It isn’t really a lie? Saving a cat from a tree could totally count as an errand, right? Ladybug has to save all felines, not just Chat Noir. So she got a little distracted, she really doesn’t have to be here right now. All she’s officially doing is costumes and possibly props and sets if they need any help. Makeup and hair because they always need extra help with those. She loves watching auditions, but now she’s regretting coming. “He auditioned? But I thought you said he was homeschooled?”

“Yeah, he was actually really good. And apparently we’ve got some policy about letting people who don’t have drama programs at their schools to join ours.” Nino shrugs. “The first I’ve heard of it.”

“Probably Chloé’s doing,” Marinette grumbles.

“But he’s a dick?” Nino crosses his arms and sinks back in his seat. “Should’ve guessed it when he walked in with Chloé. Who’s surprised? No one!”

Marinette sighs. “At least she didn’t see any of my designs this time.”

“Uh, well, I mean… Adrien did.”

“So?”

Nino raises his eyebrows and pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Did you not recognize him? Like at all?”

“I mean, he looks a little familiar,” Marinette admits.

“Mar, I honestly thought you were more in the know with this.”

“What do you mean?”

Nino hands her his phone. “Adrien, Adrien Agreste.”

Marinette gasps and takes his phone from him. “The son of my favorite designer?” She turns to look at Adrien again. “Great. Another entitled rich kid.” She flips through the pictures from Adrien’s latest shoot. “Entitled rich child star.”

Nino hums in agreement as the next audition starts.

Marinette debates just dying now. Why wait for tech week when she already has reasons for death? Then she won’t even have to deal with the drama of the cast being announced. She sighs and sinks down into her seat.

Nino ruffles her hair. “Don’t die on me yet, Mari. I can’t deal with Chloé on my own.”

“Fine,” she mutters. “Only for you though.”

She rolls her eyes when Chloé gets up onstage, flipping her hair and taking over the stage with big, large motions. She has the aura of someone who knows they’re good and knows they’ve gotten the part and honestly, it makes Marinette feel a little ill. How confident all of Chloé’s motions are makes her wish she could she could match her. She’s never able to. She can dream.

“Where are all those adoring daring boys?” Chloé sings. “Where's the knight pining so for me…” She looks directly at Adrien and Marinette makes a face.

“Get a room you two,” Nino mutters.

Marinette bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

Chloé tosses her hair over her shoulder. “Shall I not be on a pedestal, worshipped and competed for?”

“Are we sure this wasn’t written for her?” he asks.

Marinette slaps his shoulder and shushes him.

After Chloé, the rest of auditions goes off without a hitch. Aside from Adrien, Marinette has seen almost everyone who has auditioned before, either in previous musicals or in the school’s winter play a few weeks ago— which had been small and nearly fell apart but they got through it and that was what matters.

“What do you think?” Nino asks as Marinette packs up and tries to figure out how to minimize all her baggage.

“I think that the drama this year is going to be ridiculous,” she mutters. “That’s what happens when you have a show with a big lead as opposed to a more equal ensemble.”

Nino rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah maybe not the smartest choice considering our cast.”

Marinette gives him a look. “You get to hide out in the light booth. I have to deal with everyone backstage.”

Nino shakes his head. “Rest in peace, Mar. This is going to be a rough one. I can feel it.”

Ladybug has decided that she has mixed feelings about patrols in the winter. The rooftops are almost always too icy or snow covered for her and Chat to really be on them, and although their suits keep them fairly warm, her face always feels like it’s beginning to freeze. At the same time, it keeps her from getting cabin fever. It gives her a breath of cold, fresh air. It’s a nice escape. Especially after rough days. Or at least, usually it is.

“What’s wrong?” she asks Chat.

He lifts his chin from his hand in surprise.

“Don’t act surprised, kitty,” she says, bumping their shoulders together. “You’re sulking.”

“I’m not sulking,” he murmurs, turning his gaze out to the city.

Ladybug arches an eyebrow. “You’re something.” In the months she’s known him, she doesn’t think she’s ever seen him so…reserved. So quiet and still. She doesn’t think she likes it very much.

Chat sighs and leans back on his hands. “It has to do with my civilian life, do you really want to know?”

She weighs the pros and cons quickly. “If it’s bothering you, then yes.”

“I just…” He groans. “I had a chance today. I met some new people and I had a chance to make friends and I—” He laughs bitterly. “I majorly screwed up. And they all hate me.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Ladybug says quickly.

Chat runs a hand through his hair. “I did. One person yelled at me because— I mean, she had the right to. But it wasn’t only that. It was one of the people I knew before them, my friend who actually was the reason I was there. I don’t think they like her very much. And…I don’t think they want to give me a chance because of that.”

Ladybug scowls. “That’s bullshit.”

“It’s really not,” he mumbles. “My friend did something today and I… I hadn’t seen that side of her before. Either that or I was too blinded by the fact that she was one of my only friends to notice.”

Ladybugs hums. She can't entirely relate. She's always been surrounded by friends, she's lucky that way. Nino and her have been following each other around since they were in diapers. Even if they’ve only reconnected this year after a few years of barely talking, she’s never been without countless people she could consider her friends. “They shouldn't be judging you solely on your other friends,” she decides.

Chat looks down to his hands. “I know but… Even then, I should have explained myself better today instead of just…letting things happen to me.”

She can't imagine Chat being the type of person not to take action. Is he really so different underneath the mask? “You made a mistake,” she says after a moment. “You just admitted it to me, so admit it to them. And if they're worth your time, they'll understand and forgive you. If not—” She shrugs. “If not, you have me.”

He stares at her, greens eyes wide in surprise. “I do?”

How off guard he is almost hurts her. “Of course you do, kitten,” she promises. “We're partners.”

“Partners,” Chat repeats softly.

“Always.”

Marinette can say callbacks are her favorite part of auditions. The dance auditions can be entertaining and the tensions for callbacks can be terrifyingly high, but there’s something about callbacks that’s just so appealing. The way people grab onto roles and firmly plant their feet in them as if to shout ‘this is me and I’ll prove it to you’. A defiance, a determination to earn the role. To take the role as their own and breathe life into it.

Callbacks are when Marinette can really begin to see a show coming to life. The life will fade out for a few weeks after the cast is announced. The flame flickers and dims. And then the actors will find themselves again and the production will burst into light.

Marinette hates auditioning. She misses it with a burning passion.

She watches Chloé dominate the stage like she does every year. Personally, she thinks that Chloé is a little too…loud and present for the role for Cinderella. She’s missing something soft and gentle. But Marinette and Nino sit hidden in the back — technically they aren’t supposed to be here — and make quiet notes to each other. Chloé is getting the role.

Adrien is…frustratingly good. He’s maybe a little too withdrawn at the moment, he hasn’t entirely figured out how to project properly, but he falls into the role of Prince Topher with such ease that it’s a little unsettling. He so easily plays innocent and naive, unexposed to the world around him. It makes Marinette’s blood boil.

Both her and Nino are keeping running lists of who they think will get what roles on their phones. Whoever gets the most right has the buy the other Starbucks before rehearsal every Monday. Neither of them even have to be at Monday rehearsals for a while, but neither of them have anything better to do. So they’ll be there with their expensive and caffeinated drinks goofing off while everyone else is trying to learn music.

Okay, well, Marinette will work on making the costume book and Nino might play around with some lighting ideas if he’s allowed up in the booth. Other than that they’ll just be goofing around.

She watches Adrien and Chloé read lines together with a scowl on her face.

“How long do you think they practiced together,” Nino whispers to her.

“How much do you think they spent on acting and vocal coaches?” she whispers back.

Nino snorts and switches one of the names on his cast list.

Marinette sits back and tries to enjoy the rest of callbacks. She feels a twinge of anger whenever Chloé or Adrien are onstage, but mostly she can relax and doodle. She soaks in the atmosphere of the auditorium. Something about theater that has been missing from her life since last year’s show ended. The play doesn’t have the same feeling, it’s more relaxed and taken less seriously and is honestly kind of a joke. The musical— it’s an experience that she can’t figure out how to recreate.

She sighs when callbacks end and snap her back to reality.

“You good?” Nino asks. “I can grab some stuff for you if you want.”

“It’s okay,” she promise.

“You’re walking—”

“So are you,” Marinette points out. “In the other direction. Don’t worry, I carried it all the school, I can get it home.”

Nino laughs. “Don’t doubt it, my dude. See you bright and early for physics.”

She groans. “Don’t remind me.” She stays in her seat, finishing her last design as the auditorium clears out. She glances over it again before groaning and drawing an x through it.

“It’s too late for this, Tikki,” she murmurs as she gathers up her bags.

“Get some rest, Mari,” Tikki coos. “It’s been a long day and you didn’t get much sleep with the long patrol.”

“Nothing new,” Marinette says with a smile. “I’m used to it.”

“You still deserve a full night’s rest,” Tikki says, nuzzling Marinette’s cheek. “Crooks and criminals be damned. Let’s get home.”

Marinette rubs her arms as she steps outside. Tikki zips into her purse as Marinette shivers. It was way colder than she remembered it being. Tiny snowflakes fall to the ground. And her jacket was sitting on her bed where she forgot it this morning. Fantastic.

“Hey.”

Marinette tenses and looks away as Adrien steps up next to her. If there’s anything she doesn’t need tonight, it’s him.

She can feel his eyes on her. On her and on her bags. She doesn’t want to be judged right now.

“I…I just wanted you to know,” he says softly. She doesn’t want to listen. “Your sketchbook— I didn’t rip it. I didn’t even mean to look at it. I was trying to see if I could fix it.”

Marinette turns to look at him in surprise. He…what?

Adrien is staring out into the street, watching the snow. “I’ve…never been to school before,” he admits. “I haven’t had many friends. This is…kind of new to me.”

Marinette doesn’t know what to say to that. All of the anger that she’d felt has just bubbled up and evaporated and has been replaced by…something else. Something kind of empty and confused.

Adrien sighs and unzips his jacket, pulling it off and holding it out to Marinette in one smooth motion. She hesitates and just stares at it for a moment before putting down her bags and taking it from him, their fingers brushing as she does.

She puts it on and pulls up the hood, surprised to find that she can no longer see.

“Uh…” Adrien bursts out laughing.

Marinette pushes back the hood with covered hands. The jacket is far too big, coming halfway down her thighs and making her look like she’s swimming in it. And his laugh makes her fill with butterflies and her heart feel like it’s going to explode. It’s infectious, and she finds herself laughing along with him.

Adrien sighs and smiles, motioning to the car that just pulled up to the school. “I’ll see you at rehearsal.”

Marinette doesn’t even react, she just stares at him as he walks away. Until she realizes that she really needs to respond. “Yes! See yo— rehear- rehearsal. Rehearsal see you… You…” She presses her hand to her forehead. “Ugh, why am I stuttering so much?”

Tikki flies out of her purse, giggling. “I think I know why!”

“I—!” Marinette blushes and buries her nose in the collar of Adrien’s coat.

Tikki nuzzles Marinette’s cheek. “Let’s get home before the snow gets through his nice coat.”

Marinette gathers up her bags and smiles to Tikki. The coat is helping keep her warm, but Adrien’s laugh warms her more. “Yeah, let’s go.”

#adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #nino lahiffe #miraculous ladybug #answered #my fics #paper stars #yikes tm?#yikes tm #Anonymous #Thanks from the Argo!

41 notes · View notes

arukou-arukou · 8 years

Note

Tony has to stay awake for a very long time for some reason, and when he finally is allowed to rest, he physically can't, so the rest of the Avengers (but especially Steve) take care of him until he can.

With two hours to deadline, Tony finally managed to unsnag the last line of code and send it through. A new smart AI bot, one designed for searching and detonating IEDs so soldiers wouldn’t have to, whirred to life and aimed its tiny periscope cam at him inquisitively, awaiting input. The right mix of AI–not so sophisticated that army programmers could turn it into an offensive weapon, but not so improbably slow that it failed to do its job. Three iterations ago it’d tried to bring the dummy bomb to Tony, and that was clearly a no go, so he’d started the code from the bottom up and programmed until the edges of his vision went blurry. It needed testing. Testing.

“Find,” Tony grunted and the bot happily rolled off to the mock test range. “Not perfect,” Tony murmured, slumping down against the table to watch. “Just functional. Just need you to do your job. Can tweak later.” It’s little treads bumbled across sand and rocks, grinding a little in a way that, just for a moment, sent Tony back five years in time. His fingers clenched compulsively at the table before he forced himself to let go.

In the sandbox, the little bot scanned back and forth with infrared and ground-penetrating sonar and blessedly, beautifully, it located the payload. The shovel arm activated and started digging. Tony nearly wept.

Time slowed to a molasses crawl as he watched and waited. The digging mechanism had to be calibrated just so. Too much force might set off the bomb prematurely, and while the bot was built to withstand most of the explosives it would encounter, the goal was also to mitigate as much damage as possible to save on long-term costs. At last the bot pulled his dummy bomb and began sending back data.

Tony swiveled to watch the bot’s feed, studying preliminary analysis from the computer’s suppositions and looking to see how close it got to guessing right. There needed to be human input at this stage to verify and validate, but if he could get the bot ‘s guesses at least 80% accurate, it would save soldiers precious minutes of exposure and danger in the field.

Line by line the profile appeared: likely composition, likely blast radius, size analysis, potential solutions. Not bad little bot. It wasn’t gauging size correctly–something was probably off in the camera aspect ratio, but that was easily fixed. Tony typed back orders and watched with eyes that felt on the verge of shriveling up into dried peas as the bot began procedure. It pried away the main engagement plate and started snipping wires. Beautiful. As dexterous as he’d hoped. And the test was going much better than last time, considering last time the bot had run right over the dummy bomb and technically blown itself up.

The bot finished the last of the disarmament protocol and swept its camera again, asking Tony for permission to return. He glanced at the clock. Hour-and-a-half to deadline. Beautiful. With a flick of his wrist, he typed in the commands for return, charging and self-diagnostic. It would be enough. It had to be. Tony needed it to be because he’d been awake…slowly he blinked at the clock and tried to focus. The numbers blurred in and out before sharpening and he sucked at his teeth. He’d been awake way too long, that’s what he’d been.

“J, lab’s yours. Get the specs and test footage to Pep and tell her to work her magic. Do not disturb orders on my quarters for the next four hours. I don’t want to hear or see anyone or anything unless the world’s ending, and even then, tell them to see if they can get Johnny Storm first.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Tony stumbled his way to the elevator, finally allowing himself to make the jaw-cracking yawn he’d been biting back for the last four hours. Now that the code wasn’t right in front of him, now that he had allowed his brain room to think of something other than the next string of numbers and letters, it felt like his bones were turning to concrete. His feet dragged and his fingers hung limp at his sides. The raw puffiness of his eyes seemed to get worse, especially when he stepped out of his dim lab and into the blindingly bright elevator.

JARVIS brought him to the penthouse without a word, and Tony emerged into a seating area lit only by the New York skyline. Late then. Late enough that the city seemed quiet. Maybe so late it was early. Tony had just been looking at a clock. Why couldn’t he remember what time it was?

On dragging toes, he slumped his way through the living area to his bedroom. No Steve. The bed was made, the sheets military flat. Tony would miss Steve’s body heat, but they didn’t always share a bed, so it wasn’t like he had any right to be disappointed or lonely. It was fine. Or at least it would be fine once was he was horizontal.

With fingers stiff and swollen from hours at the computer, Tony slowly peeled away his T-shirt and fumbled his way through his jeans’ button and zipper, shuffling out of the denim rather than pushing it away. He was afraid to bend over, what with the way his head was swimming.

“Getting too old for this, J,” he murmured, staring forlornly between the bed and the bathroom. He could go to sleep without brushing his teeth. It was an option. But he’d regret it when he woke up. He knew that much.

“With all due respect, Sir, perhaps it’s time to bring on a secondary R&D assistant.”

“Who’s,” Tony yawned over the “oo” and tried again. “Who’s gonna keep up with me?”

“I already have a list of several likely candidates, Sir. There’s a young woman at MIT, up-and-coming, who seems particularly promising.”

“Yeah? Well, put together a profile. Maybe–” another yawn “–maybe I can get to it tomorrow.” For a moment, Tony had to lean against the sink as his whole world tilted forward. He grit his teeth and waited the dizziness spell out, and then he picked up his toothbrush, smearing toothpaste on it at a snail’s pace. He brushed slowly, steadily, telling himself just a little bit more. Just. A little. Bit. More. And then it was down. His teeth were sort of clean. Enough to be bearable anyway. So he shuffled for his bed. It was almost as bad as being rip-roaring drunk, though at least this wouldn’t result in vomiting come morning.

With a final burst of energy, Tony flopped forward onto his mattress, groaning as his nose took more weight than it deserved. He barely had the energy to slither under the covers, but he forced himself to do it, jamming his feet (still in socks) down toward the bottom of the bed.

“Sleep” he whispered, turning onto his side and snuggling down. The sheets were cool and the scent of mint was in his mouth. Nice, beautiful sleep.

…

He’d thought, with the way his body felt, that he’d drift off right away, but from his nest under the covers, he felt suddenly wide awake. Wired awake. His leg started jumping a little, a nerve twitch in his calf that just wouldn’t go away.

“It’s just nerves,” Tony mumbled. Stupid contract. He didn’t want Hammer Industries getting it. Not Bain either. They’d try to weaponize it and that would be bad. Very bad. Had he checked the color protocols against the video footage? What if the bot had identified the wrong colors? What if, in the dark, it couldn’t make out color input? Tony hadn’t designed a night vision camera. Maybe he should–

He shook his head sharply. No. This was not the answer. There was plenty of time for tweaks later. What he needed right now was sleep. Even he could recognize when he was beyond being of any use to anyone, and he was there right now, already a lump of sleep-deprived meat.

“Sleep,” he said again, now a command. As if to make it a reality, he shifted in his bed, turning onto his other side and pulling the blankets into a tight burrito around him. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing. It was all going to be fine. Just get some shut-eye and then work on tweaks. And Clint’s arm guards. And a stronger stretch material for Bruce’s pants. Something flame retardant.

The night wore on and Tony tossed and turned, but his brain couldn’t seem to shut down. He could recognize it, in a distant sort of way. Nervous thought spirals that took him further and further down the rabbit hole. When he’d gotten them as a teen and in his twenties, he’d self-medicated into a stupor, but he knew how Steve felt about that. Tony was better than that, now.

So instead he tried every trick in the book. Counting sheep. Counting breath. Imagining he was a melting snowman. Tensing and relaxing focused muscle groups. Listing the periodic table. He never got far though. The thought spirals intruded again and again. For hours he fought it until, rumpled and so dry he felt like a corn husk, he peeked out from beneath his blanket and saw that the sun was rising.

“What the fuck?” he whispered, pressing his fingers into his eyes.

“Sir?” JARVIS asked, quietly, almost hesitantly.

“J, blinds.”

“Sir, shall I–”

“Blinds, please.”

The windows tinted to matte gray, trapping Tony in darkness. That made it so much worse. So so much worse. Without the ambient city light, he was in space, in the suit, falling, dying, alone. With a desperate wheeze, Tony whipped away his blankets, looking down at the arc reactor, touching its smooth face, pressing his palm to it to feel the steady thrum beneath. Too much. Too damn much.

Heart pounding in his chest, Tony rose and stumbled out of the bedroom into the main room. If he couldn’t sleep, he damn well wasn’t going to stay in the dark. He weaved back and forth to the kitchen, eyes on his feet, so of course he he ran straight into someone.

“Tony?”

Clint. That was Clint. Should’ve recognized the dog PJ bottoms. Tony blinked up and flinched when Clint took a literal step back.

“Holy shit, man, what happened?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Can’t sleep.”

There’s a clunk of glass on marble somewhere behind Clint, and with great effort, Tony raised his head. Oh god. They were all there. Team breakfast. Was it Sunday? It must be Sunday. Fuck fuck fuck.

Bruce was the first to move again, standing from his chair at the table. “Tony, you’re not looking so great. When was the last time you were able to sleep?”

“Uh…”

“JARVIS?” Nat asked, bypassing him completely.

“Sir has been awake for sixty-two hours and forty-seven minutes.”

“Jesus, Tony,” Clint breathed. Tony realized Clint’s hand was on his shoulder, but he couldn’t remember how it got there.

“Tried,” he said, tongue thick. It was hard to get the words out. “Tried last night. Laid in bed. Counted. Stuff. Couldn’t.”

As though a whistle had been blown, the team leaped into action. Clint slung his arm over Tony’s shoulders and turned to look at Steve. Nat was already at the refrigerator, pulling out a gallon of milk. Bruce brushed past them both going…Tony wasn’t sure where. He blinked and when next he looked, Steve was right in front of him.

“–ony? Tony?”

“Sorry. Can’t. Word.”

“That’s ok, Tony. We’re going to get some food and water in you and Bruce is getting you something to help you sleep. Then you and I are going to bed.”

“We are?”

“Uh huh.”

Clint steered Tony into a chair and a moment later, something heavy fell over his chest and legs. He looked down to see a length of heavy red fabric. Thor’s cape. He was wearing Thor’s cape. And under that he was…naked? Except for socks. He was still wearing socks. Not naked.

“Here Tony. Can you drink this for me? Got you a straw to make it easier.” Nat set down a mug of milk in front of him, and he nearly dropped it when he touched the ceramic. He wasn’t expecting it to be warm. But still, he sipped at it through the straw, trying to answer Nat’s quiet smile with one of his own. He didn’t feel like smiling. Or drinking. But he forced himself to. Something inside him slowly began unclenching.

“Here Tony,” Steve said, setting down a bowl of oatmeal with banana coins on top. “Try eating a little for me. Just enough to help settle you.” Tony tried to reach for the spoon only to have it swim just out of grasp. Like an eel. He frowned down and tried again but it stubbornly remained out of reach.

“Spoon’s swimming,” he muttered out loud and tried using both hands. Only Clint at his side managed to keep the mug of milk from becoming a disaster as it dropped away.

“Ok, buddy,” he murmured setting the mug out of reach. “Let me help you with that spoon. They’re tricky, I know.” He helped wrap Tony’s clumsy fingers around the spoon and then guided him through the first few bites of oatmeal. It was nice. Not too sweet. Not too hot. Warm and grounding in his stomach. He blinked and realized Steve was there, looking down with that sad smile that wasn’t quite a real smile, that little pinch of skin between his eyes.

“Good, Tony. How are you feeling now? A little more settled.”

He wanted to respond, he did, but he could barely keep his eyes open anymore.

“Ok, Tony.”

That was Bruce. Bruce was back. “I brought you some melatonin and mild muscle relaxant. I know you prefer not to have that kind of thing in your system, but you’re so keyed up, I worry you might not get to REM before your muscles wake you back up again. Will you take it for me?”

Tony nodded and opened his mouth numbly, feeling the soft acrid weight of pills on his tongue. Someone put the straw back between his lips and he swallowed convulsively. It was so nice and warm. He almost believed sleep was possible.

And then he was going up. There were arms under his shoulders and knees, a furnace of heat against his side. Thor’s cape draped over him in what was probably a ridiculously dramatic affectation. He would’ve laughed if he could’ve.

“Do not disturb orders. Nat, if there’s an emergency, you’re in charge.”

Was this what flying felt like? No. Tony had flown before. Flying wasn’t as soft as this. He cracked his eyes. When had they gotten to the bedroom? The bedside light was on, and in its soft orange halo, Steve was undressing, He glanced over and caught Tony watching. “Hey. Hey, you’re doing great. Just close your eyes for me. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Tony could feel a thought spiral pressing at the back of his brain, but he closed his eyes anyway because Steve had asked it of him. A moment later, the bed dipped behind him and there was heat at his back, a great swatch of warm naked skin.

“Just gonna help you relax a little more. You just keep your eyes closed ok. Go to sleep if you can.”

Steve hands were on him. Smooth, strong, sure. And then he started kneading. Gentle squeezes along Tony’s triceps, soft circles across his shoulder blades, firm strokes along his lumbar and glutes. The warmth seemed to shoot straight through him, setting off some sort of chemical trigger in his brain. Little by little, his limbs melted into the mattress.

“Great job, Tony. You’re doing great.”

Tony wanted to tell Steve he was great, he was sweet and kind and caring, and Tony loved him. He wanted to tell him all that. But his tongue was melting into his teeth and his eyes couldn’t stay open anymore. Under Steve’s gentle massage, he finally, finally slept.

#fanfiction #writing #tony star #steve rogers #steve/tony #stony #hurt/comfort #insomnia #avengers #rosefyrefyre

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