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ruffsficstuffplace · 6 years

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And The AWRD Goes To... (Part 2)

Weiss stepped out of the crowds, the hubbub, and the hot and stuffy air inside the Great Hall, sighing and slumping her shoulders as she came down the stairs to the greenery, the spread out crowds, and the cool, fresh air.

She scanned the path leading up there, was disappointed but not surprised to find that Ruby and Akko had already disappeared from where she’d left them earlier. “Probably off at the firing range to check weapons, or looking for Shiny Chariot memorabilia on campus...” she thought as she walked down the path.

“So, there’s about an hour before we’re all supposed to report to the Great Hall for Headmaster Lionheart’s speech; you’re alone and have no idea where the hell Akko is; and Grandpa and Grandma explicitly stated that they don’t want to see you hiding out in either of their offices, unless you’re bleeding, having an episode, or have official, school-based business with them.”

She looked around at the crowds of students milling about, some enjoying the nice day, others also heading into the Great Hall with their luggage, the rest just disembarking from the later airship trips to Haven. “You could go try and make friends again! Hope things go better than earlier, possibly even make some headway with your future teammates if you happen to be having your initiation exam at the same time as them…

“… Or you could do the realistic thing, and hide out somewhere isolated, where no one will bother you or try to strike up a conversation with you.” Weiss paused to consider her two options for a few seconds, before she made a sharp turn off the main path, to the buildings on the fringes of Haven.

Unlike Akko and many of the other students, this wasn’t the first time Weiss had ever stepped foot on the campus. Though she had been under heavy surveillance and the watchful eye of either of her grandparents every single time, there was only so much you could do to keep a young, bored, and anti-social girl from exploring her surroundings, discovering shortcuts, memorizing routes and the lay of the land in her head, until she could get almost everywhere in campus with little difficulty.

Weiss smiled as she found herself in Haven’s zen garden, walking past the wooden lattice fences and arches covered in flowers, crawling vines, and bonsai trees; watching the small woodland creatures, birds, and butterflies going about their days; listening ho the gentle burble of water fountains and the irrigation streams, and of course, the regular, distinctive “doink!” sound of a deer chaser somewhere.

She wasn’t alone there, but she may as well have been with all the people she passed by intent on keeping to themselves, so Weiss just happily strolled through the familiar paths, humming quietly to herself as she made her way to her favourite spot:

The Jennifer Memorial Tree.

Legends abounded about the massive centerpiece of the garden: that its namesake was secretly buried there, after she fell during a massive siege of Grimm and her compatriots had gone through mythical hardships to recover her remains; that the spirits of all the fallen huntsmen and huntresses of Haven eventually returned there to watch over the next generation as they trained; that some sort of incredible, secret relic of unimaginable power was buried within its massive roots, waiting for the day a worthy wielder would appear and claim it.

To Weiss, however, it was just her grandfather Nick’s favourite spot to hang out after class and before going home, where he’d tell his grandchildren and/or interested students stories about his numerous adventures and misadventures all over Remnant, until an airship arrived to take him home. Weiss hummed to herself as she stepped into the protective dome around it, stopped as she realized that someone was already standing before the tree’s spiraling trunk.

It was another girl about her age, wearing a blue shirt with the hood pulled up over her head, a spear slung across her back, its head shaped like a unicorn’s horn.

Weiss awkwardly stopped some distance away from her, her features furrowed. “Oh, great, what do I do…?” she thought to herself. “Should I leave? Should I stay and try to ignore her? I can’t just tell a total stranger to up and leave public property…!”

The hooded girl turned around, Weiss saw her face, felt her mind screeching to a halt as she stared at her. The other girl’s gaze, sharp blue eyes locked with Weiss’ own. “Can I help you…?” she said as she stepped closer.

Weiss stood there, stunned, before started blubbering and struggling for words, until she finally managed to blurt out: “You’re Diana Cavendish!”

“I am her, yes,” Diana replied calmly.

There was silence for a few, awkward moments. Diana’s face remained neutral, but Weiss could feel the ever decreasing patience she had for her, see it in those pale blue eyes.

“I’ll just be taking my leave now...” Diana said as she began to make her way past Weiss.

“Wait!” Weiss blurted.

Diana stopped, looked at her with an expression that said: “This better be important.”

Weiss hesitated for a moment. “Thank you,” she said. “To your family. The Cavendishes. Without their work in medicine, my grandfather Nick would be dead by now.”

For a brief moment, Diana just stared at her in surprise, before her lips curled into a small smile. She was about to say something, before her eyes went wide. “… Wait, you’re Weiss Schnee, aren’t you?”

“Yes, yes I am!” Weiss said, beaming, before she frowned. “No longer associated with the Schnee Dust Company, by the way! My grandparents and mother cut ties with the company years ago, and I’ve absolutely no interest in reconnecting them!”

“I know, and I heard,” Diana said. “I’m assuming you’re here in Haven to follow in your grandfather’s footsteps?”

“… Among other reasons, but yes!” Weiss said, nodding. “The man I regret to say is my father dragged the Schnee name into the mud, and I intend to bring it out of it.” She paused. “Ah, if I may ask, what are you doing here in Haven? Sorry, my family has been living out in the mountains for all these years, and we aren’t really privy on most news of Mistral society...”

“Much the same as you, actually,” Diana said, smiling. “House Cavendish has fallen on its own tough times.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you.” Diana said. “You know, now that I think about it, maybe our two legacies can help each other out once more—what would the Cavendish hospitals and laboratories been without Schnee dust powering them, after all…?”

Weiss blinked. “You mean… you want us to be partners? Like in a team…? Together?”

“If fate decides to bind our families together in such a way, yes.” Diana said. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t mind cooperating with yours, whoever they might be.”

Weiss just stared blankly at her. “Oh. That’s… very generous of you, thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” Diana said. “Now if you’ll please excuse me, I had other things I intended to do before the Headmaster’s speech...”

“O-Oh, go on ahead, please don’t let me keep you!” Weiss said as she quickly stepped aside, awkwardly swept her arm towards one of the exits.

Diana smiled at her one more time as she left, before her face was neutral once more, her gaze locked forward as she made her way out of the zen garden.

Weiss watched her go for a few moments, before skipping to the base of the Jennifer Memorial Tree and sitting down at the particular patch of dirt Nick always favoured. “Wait till Grandpa hears about this…!” she thought as she looked up at the vibrant leaves looming above her, a smile on her face, her eyes shining.

Then, little by little, the smile disappeared, the glow in her eyes faded, till she was looking up at the canopy with a look of mute, silent dread.

The Great Hall was abuzz with activity, students flooding almost every bit of space on the floor, some of them even hanging off or sitting on the rafters up in the ceiling. Weiss stood somewhere in the middle of the crowds with Akko by her side, neither Ruby nor Diana in sight. “Ruby said she wanted to be with sister for this,” Akko replied when Weiss asked.

On the stage in the center, Headmaster Lionheart prepared to step up to the microphone, some the professors standing behind him—and to Weiss’ dismay, both of her grandparents were absent, no doubt busy with the preparations for the initiation tests tomorrow.

Lionheart took a deep breath, combed back his iconic gray mane with one hand, before he smiled and stepped up to the microphone. “Students? Students, lend me your ears for a moment, please!” When the casual chatter all around the Great Hall quieted down somewhat, Lionheart just sighed to himself, smiled, and continued. “Thank you. Now, good evening, everyone, and welcome to Haven Academy!

“Many are the walks of life you all came from. Some of you are here from the highest echelons of the city, children of celebrities, nobles, and the most affluent individuals in all of the kingdom. Some of you are from the lower levels, children of the hard workers that make our kingdom great, our farmers, our masons, our hardworking merchants hawking their trades day after day. Others still are from the settlements and the villages all over the hills of Mistral, across the seas from the other kingdoms as far away as Vacuo, or from origins they’d rather not be brought up.

“Many more are the reasons you enrolled here. Some of you are like the original huntsmen and huntresses, here to protect those that cannot protect themselves, slay the Grimm, and keep the peace in our kingdoms. Some of you see it as a means to status and glory, something to brag about to future employers, put in your resumes, or make for interesting conversation at parties. Some of you see it as just another way to earn a living, and start a new life for yourself as you enter adulthood.

“And right now, I can see your pasts and your motivations divide you, so many walls running down along as many lines as you can imagine.

“I will not lie: four years in this academy will not completely break down those barriers, and when you graduate, you may find many more than you ever thought possible wherever you go.

“But it is my and the staff’s sincerest hope that during your time here, you learn that in times of crises, in times of need, in times when all hope seems lost and the end seems to have come for all of us, these divides will cease to matter, that it will not matter if the person you are saving is member of the Council or a simple farmer, if they are also from Mistral or wherever else in Remnant, that the huntsmen and huntresses you are fighting with are human or Faunus, rich or poor, famous or unknown:

“For in the end, we are all the people of Remnant, all wanting to survive, to thrive, to live and be happy.” Lionheart smiled. “I hope to see you all here again in four years time, handing you and your future teams your licenses. Thank you, and good afternoon, students.”

The Great Hall erupted in applause, some of it honest and heartfelt, others distinctly sarcastic, the faces on the students ranging from inspired and proud, to disgusted and cynical.

“Can you believe they’re still spouting that crap year after year…?” Weiss heard someone whisper nearby.

“Yeah—we’re all equals alright, but some of us are more equal than others...”

Lionheart bowed and took his leave, one of the professors stepped up to the mic, a shy and timid looking woman with long blue hair and very plain and simple clothes. “All of you please report back here soon as soon as the sun goes down, 6PM sharp—we don’t want to see or hear about any of you getting up to any sort of trouble after dark, and Professor Schnee asked me to tell you all, and I quote, ‘Don’t even try the “I was just looking for the bathroom” excuse, or any others tall tales! I really have heard them all, kiddos.’

“Try not to stay up too late and get plenty of rest, everyone,” she said. “You’ll want to be well-rested before we send you out into the Celestial Hills for initiation tomorrow. That is all for the announcements, you are all dismissed.”

The crowds started breaking up, some staking their spots as early as now, other still heading out before curfew was enacted.

“You want to go find some of that Shiny Chariot stuff Uncle Nick was talking about?” Akko said, bouncing on her heels and raring to go.

“I’m surprised you didn’t do that while we were separated earlier,” Weiss said.

“I promised I’d only do it with my best friend, right?” Akko said, beaming. “Though, Ruby and I ran into some Shiny Chariot stuff while we were heading to the training grounds to show off our weapons—totally coincidental, along the way stuff, I swear!”

Weiss chuckled, and smiled back. “I believe you. Now come on, let’s go! Time’s a wasting!”

“Yay!” Akko cried, before she all but dragged Weiss out and through the crowds at top speed, like a missile with an unlucky hanger-on.

Hours later, when the whole of Haven was cast in a warm orange light and all the students were staking their claims out in the Great Hall or making the most of their remaining free time, Weiss and Akko trudged back through the entrance, the former exhausted from trying to keep up with her friend, the latter scowling and stewing in disappointment.

“I can’t believe they have so little of Shiny Chariot here!” Akko complained. “She’s one of the best, most amazing huntresses to ever graduate here from Haven, why don’t they even have a statue of her?!”

Still out of breath, and legs aching, Weiss only nodded and patted her friend on the shoulder.

“We should start a petition, you know, get your grandparents to sponsor it, and every single student and staff member here to sign it!” Akko cried. “We’re going to personally shove it right onto Lionheart’s desk, and then we’re going to have a giant statue of Shiny Chariot put up on campus! Made of stone, so it lasts for centuries! And right in the center of the campus, so everyone will see it, wherever it is they’re going!”

“I sincerely wish you the best of luck with such an outlandish endeavour,” a familiar voice said. Weiss and Akko turned to the side, found Diana in a night gown, a rolled-up sleeping bag under her arm. “Merely finding people who even remember Shiny Chariot’s name will prove to be a challenge, let alone ones who still have as much passion for her as you do.”

“It won’t be that difficult!” Akko snapped, scowling. “So what if she’s taken a little break from hunting? She helped a lot of people and inspired so many more! She’s practically a legend, people don’t forget legends that easily!”

Diana’s expression remained neutral. “A piece of unsolicited advice: that seemingly boundless energy of yours might be better spent making a name for yourself, than trying to bring back someone who’s long stepped out of the spotlight—for all you know, this ‘break’ might be an unannounced, permanent retirement...” she muttered as she walked off.

Akko fumed, Weiss sighed and put a hand on her shoulder. “Just let her go, Akko, and let’s look for a place to sleep tonight...” Weiss said.

“Hmph. I hope we aren’t in the same batch as her tomorrow...” Akko grumbled as she left with Weiss.

After a few minutes of searching, it was clear they should have called off the hunt for Shiny Chariot memorabilia much earlier: all the good spots in the Great Hall were long taken, old or newly formed cliques and factions had already staked vast swaths of territory for themselves and were quite selective about who they let in, and free spots were looking far and few in-between.

“Excuse me!” they heard a girl call out. Weiss and Akko looked, found an orange-haired girl with massive, clunky glasses waving at them, an empty sleeping bag next to her, and free space enough for two wedged side-by-side nearby. The two of them smiled wasted no time rushing over to her before someone else claimed the offer.

“Yay!” Akko cried as she triumphantly rolled out her sleeping bag, round birds with a star on its belly printed all over it. “Thanks! I thought we were going to have to try and sleep standing up with our backs against each other again!”

The girl with glasses blinked. “Again…?”

“It’s a long story...” Weiss muttered as she unrolled hers, a surplus Mistral military bedroll. “Anyway, I’m Weiss, and this is my friend, Akko. You would be?”

“Lotte,” Lotte replied, smiling.

“Well, thank you, Lotte,” Weiss said as she sat down. “If there’s anything we can do to repay you, just say the word.”

Lotte waved them off. “Oh, don’t even mention it!”

“Not so fast, Lotte: this could be a great opportunity for new test subjects...” a fourth, unnerving voice said.

Weiss turned to the source, found herself scowling. Akko cried and scrambled backwards, nearly crashing into the students behind her. “You!” they both cried.

Lotte frowned as she looked at Akko and Weiss, and at the girl returning to her sleeping bag. “Sucy, you know these two?”

“She poisoned me earlier!” Akko snapped. “I puked my guts out thanks to whatever it was she gave me! Twice!”

“Sucy!” Lotte snapped, glaring at her friend.

Sucy shrugged. “She came out of nowhere and started going off about something a mile a minute, what else was I supposed to do?”

“She was trying to introduce herself and make a friend!” Weiss snapped, Akko nodding beside her.

Sucy’s one visible eye blinked. “Oh. Well, at least, I got some great observations in earlier...”

Lotte sighed. “I apologize for Sucy, she’s, well...” she trailed off, struggled to think of a word, before giving up.

Weiss stood up, looked around, and found the spaces inside the warm, sheltered Great Hall already fast running out; staff were already forcing the cliques to give up space, but she had a feeling they were going to be breaking out tents pretty soon…

She sat back down, and looked Sucy dead in her eye. “No funny stuff in the middle of the night, okay? Even without my weapon, I’m dangerous enough with just my semblance.” Weiss said.

Sucy half-heartedly put her hand on her chest. “Huntress’ honour.”

Weiss looked at her warily, before Akko and her switched places, Weiss now closer to Sucy than her.

It wasn’t exactly how either of them wanted to spend their first night in Haven, but Weiss supposed it was a good start to when they’d inevitably be sleeping in worse accommodations...

#rwby #little witch academia #white rose #dianakko #au #and the AWRD goes to

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avengeultrons · 7 years

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Title: Rebel (Part 4 Lang Love Interest(Daughter of Scott! Reader x Peter Parker)

Summary: The reader’s dad is back from Brussels with some news and new ground rules that are so outlandish, the reader will just have to rebel against them.

Word Count: 2359

A/N: Okay this one’s a long one but it was so much fun and I was so invested that I lowkey didn’t want to stop writing. ALSO I made another icon for myself and I’m lowkey obsessed... ANYWAY: I hope you enjoy!

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

It had been way too long since you had heard from your father, so long that you were becoming increasingly worried. It had been so long that your mom had come over to watch you and Cassie in Scott’s apartment so you wouldn't be away from school for longer than necessary. You had lost sleep just worrying about him and Peter.

Speaking of; You hadn't even heard from Peter, who had texted you every day while he was away. All of a sudden; the messages stopped and it was radio silence. That was really great for your anxiety.

You were reading a book curled up on your bed when you heard banging on your window, the windowpanes rattling and shaking. Well; it was probably just tapping. You were home alone and on high alert, so it scared you.

You slammed your book shut and clambered to your feet, your stomach twisting into knots as you peeked out of your window to the fire escape, slightly expecting a burglar to break through your window. It was Peter. Peter!

You gasped lightly and your eyes widened as you pulled open the window, a smile growing on your face. You couldn't seem to get the window open fast enough; Peter was bouncing on the balls of his feet nervously, a wide and giddy smile taking over his own features.

“Peter!” you laughed lightly as you stepped back for him to climb through the window, not even making it two steps inside your room before you threw your arms around his neck in a hug, “I was so worried about you, you have no idea. When did you get back?”

“Just two days ago. Slept through both of them,” Peter laughed. You had to fight off the urge to cry, but the reunion was a lot for you. You were so worried that something terrible was going to happen to either him or your father that you hardly slept while they were gone, “I missed you,” he said quietly, nervous about what you would say next.

A light blush dusted over your cheeks as he said it, silently praying that he couldn't hear your heartbeat as loud as you could. You pulled away from him while he smiled shyly, “I missed you, too,” you said with a nervous smile, your eyes sparkling with tears.

All of your nerves suddenly melted away as you looked up at him, “Wait, what the hell happened?” One of his eyes was surrounded by a purple bruise, obviously from his recent fight. You reached a hand out and caressed his cheek gently, eyes narrowed at his black eye as if it would disappear if you glared hard enough.

“What, this? It's nothing, Y/N. Really,” he laughed lightly, tugging at the collar of his sweatshirt. You definitely weren't buying it, though, “What-what are you reading?”

You gave a pout as he broke away from you, collapsing onto your bed and snatching your book up from its spot nestled into your pillows, “Peter, what happened?” When he didn't respond- he suddenly became interested in reading the summary of your book- you cleared your throat, “Was it my dad or something? You know, being here while you guys were there really sucked. I wouldn't be mad if you told me of your adventures,” you snorted, sitting across from him and gathering a stuffed animal into your arms.

“Well,” his voice went up an octave as your eyes widened, your mouth making an ‘o’ shape, typical for you when you were surprised.

“My dad did this to you?” you raised your eyebrows at him while Peter smiled weakly, “Oh my God! My dad gave you a black eye!”

“Not on purpose! It was my fault anyway,” Peter shrugged, flipping through the pages of your book. You didn't pry for any more information, but he looked up at you with concern written across his features, “Have you heard from him at all?”

You shook your head slightly, a worried look on your face, “Not since he left,” you said with a shaky sigh, looking over at Peter with an eyebrow quirked up, “Why, do you know something?”

Peter shook his head sadly, “No,” with a sigh, Peter put a hand on your shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze, “If I knew, I’d tell you. I'm sure he's fine, Y/N.”

You gave a slight nod, chewing on your bottom lip nervously. Peter tilted your chin up and smiled, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach, “It’ll be okay. I know it.””

You and Peter both jumped to your feet when you heard the front door of your apartment slam, a deep blush covering your cheeks, “Y/N?” a smile lit up your face as you heard your name being called from the living room; your dad was finally back!

“Go catch up, I’ll see you later,” Peter said with a smile. You had to resist the urge to squeal in excitement as you squeezed him in a hug, “Go!” he rolled his eyes at you and you watched him disappear back through the window with a wave before practically sprinting out of your room and down the hall, sliding in your socks.

“Dad, are you in here?” you stopped in the living room where Scott had dropped his bags right next to the door, almost as if he was too exhausted to carry them any further. He had to be in the kitchen; that’s where you'd be after a ten hour flight with nothing but bland airplane food.

“Hi, Sweetie!” Scott plastered on a smile while you joined him in the kitchen, watching intently as he poured himself a small glass of orange juice. He ended up downing it like a shot of alcohol and just drinking it straight out of the carton. You laughed and went up to hug him; your father was definitely back.

“I was worried sick about you, you know,” you gave a sigh and watched as your dad collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs, gesturing for you to join him.

“I know, I know. I'm sorry,” he sighed, biting into a piece of cold pizza, “There was a bit of a bump in the road on our side, but I'm fine now. It's fine. I missed you and Cass like crazy!” Scott gave an over dramatic shrug while you raised an eyebrow at him.

“A bump in the road?” you were wondering if this was where Peter’s black eye came in, so you leaned in, listening intently.

“Yeah, we kind of got arrested,” your eyes widened in shock as he said it, unsure of how you were supposed to handle the news, “It’s fine, Y/N. like I said; just a little bump in the road is all,” you could tell that he was irritated about something but you couldn't tell what; possibly Tony’s side?

“So; why do you have that sour look on your face?” Scott just waved you off, finishing off his piece of pizza before filling down more orange juice. What an interesting combination, “At least you didn't end up with a black eye,” you said with a bright smile.

For some reason; this made him perk up and raise an eyebrow at you, “Who has a black eye?”

You simply shrugged, the feeling that you were about to be in trouble for something suddenly washing over you, “What? No one,” you laughed nervously while Scott stared at you, trying to read your face.

“What are you doing up so late anyway? It's past midnight, and way past your bedtime,” he pried, sinking back into his chair. You rolled your eyes and picked at the wood grain of the table with one of your fingers, avoiding his gaze.

“I told you, I was worried about you. Can't a loving daughter just be worried about her father?” you asked, looking up at him with an eyebrow raised, almost as if you were challenging him.

“Who has a black eye?” he asked again, steepling his fingers as a sort of sign that he meant business.

“Well, Peter’s back and he said that-” Scott cut you off with a loud groan, massaging his temples as if he was exhausted over the whole conversation. You leaned back a little, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I think you should stop talking to Peter for a little while,” your eyes widened and your mouth made an ‘o’ shape as you stared at him, your heart dropping to your feet, “Tensions are high between the two sides right now, Y/N. It might be best to put your relationship to the side for now and think about-” you laughed loudly, your chair scraping the floor as you pushed yourself out of it.

“Think about what? Am I gonna be stuck here again by myself, with no communication to you or anyone else while you battle?” you crossed your arms over your chest, a wild look on your face. Scott wouldn't meet your gaze, which only made it harder for you to get your point across, “You actually want me to stop talking to Peter over some dumb fight?” your voice became quiet as you stared at your father, your hands trembling. Why would he ever want you to stop talking to literally the only person you're able to talk to?

“It's not a dumb fight, Y/N,” Scott said with a loud sigh followed by a yawn.

“I won't do it,” you said simply, your face red and eyes brimming with tears of frustration. Couldn't he sympathize with you, even a little bit?

“Yes, you will,” Scott wasn't one for punishment, but it was the best for his team, “If I find out that you're talking to that kid, there’ll be consequences.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” you spat as you wiped at tears that spilled over with the heel of your hand, tapping your foot like an impatient rabbit. You couldn't believe what you were hearing.

“Let's just hope you'll follow the rules and you won't have to find out,” he spat back, his own face red from frustration.

You gave a huff and threw your hands up, turning on your heel to storm back to your room, “Good night,” you said bitterly, “and welcome back!”

“You'll understand Y/N. We’ll talk in the morning!” Scott called after you, sighing loudly, “Good night.” Maybe that wasn't the best idea to break the news to you? It was for the best, anyway.

You didn't even bother to put shoes on as you crawled out of your window and onto the fire escape, only stopping to recollect yourself and to keep from sobbing. You didn't even have to go to Peter’s room to look for him; he was already outside on the fire escape, scribbling away in a notebook, “Jet lag?” you asked, causing him to jump. He smiled as he saw you, a smile that lifted your spirits.

“How’d it go? Is he exhausted?” Peter laughed lightly, his laugh faltering and concern washing over his face as he looked up at you, only to see that you were crying, “Hey, what happened?” he asked quietly, gesturing for you to join him. You lowered yourself down and dangled your legs over the edge, somehow not completely breaking down.

“Oh, it went great. You'll never believe what he told me,” you said sarcastically, pulling at your fingers nervously. Peter closed his notebook and turned to face you, listening intently, “He said it would be ‘best’ if I stopped talking to you for a while . If I don't, there will apparently be some serious consequences,” Even repeating what your dad said made you want to scream. Why on Earth would he want to make you do that?

Peter frowned, his eyes as big as a sad puppy dog’s while he pulled you into him. Tears fell silently down your cheeks as the two of you sat there, shivering from the cool night breeze.

“I'm not going to do that, I can't,” you broke the silence, the kind of silence that was so comfortable that it felt almost dangerous to break it, “We’ll just have to figure something out. Something sneaky, I’m sure.” Peter laughed at that, even if he agreed.

“You know that I like you, right? Like, like like you?” you blurted out, Peter’s eyes widening as you did so. Your own eyes widened in surprise and you bit your bottom lip nervously.

He raised an eyebrow at you, while you were just thankful for the darkness to cover up your blush, “Wow, okay. I didn't really expect to say that out loud just yet. But it's true, and I know that it probably sounds silly right now but I do, really-” before you could could go on anymore, Peter pressed his lips to yours in a kiss, a very long awaited kiss.

One that you had been wishing for since the day he asked you on a date in the middle of the sidewalk. All you could think about was your lips on his, your hand in his hair, and his hand hovering over your cheek. It was a whirlwind of feeling and emotion that made you forget about everything that had just happened, even if just for a moment.

“Oh, okay. Well, um…” you bit back a smile as Peter pulled away from you, a smile so wide on his face that it probably impossible to hide.

“I-I like you, too, Y/N,” Peter laughed breathlessly, the tips of his ears turning pink, “I like like you,” the two of your couldn't help but laugh at the phrase that reminded you of being a giddy middle schooler.

“I'm sure he’ll come around some time,” you sighed loudly, resting your head on Peter’s shoulder. That was the only thing you had to go on; the hope that maybe your dad would come to his senses and see that it wasn't the best idea. But for now; you'd just have to rebel, and rebelling was something you never thought you would do or be good at before. Your dad would understand sooner or later. He had to.

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lousylvrefiction · 7 years

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Hello readers! To my chagrin, I realize we Authors Speak writers posted not one single post in the month of July. I, for one, didn’t realize I’d missed my day to post until it was long gone. Some of us were more on the ball than that, but just had a crazy calendar and didn’t make it. I hope this month is better, and I’m going to kick off August by posting on time. But… (isn’t there always a but?) because my calendar has gone crazy this month, I’m recycling. Don’t get me wrong! This post is completely right for the day!

Let me explain.

As you may have realized, I like to talk about other authors’ books. A few years ago, on my sylvre.com blog, I did that by featuring “lessons” at Gay Romance University. In 2014, I made a lesson about Anne Barwell’s book, Shadowboxing, the first book in her World War II historical Echoes Rising series. Read on to revisit that day in class!

Why is this the right post to republish today?

Because today, the final book in the series has been launched at DSP Publications! Happy release day, Anne, and congrats on creating a series truly worth the read.

Okay, then! Let’s go to school!

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(Get your textbook, and the rest of the series at this DSP Pubications link.)

here: Please take your seats people, we want to get started…. What’s that? Boxer shorts? Certainly they’re allowed…. Yes, sir, briefs, certainly. Sure, speedos are not only allowed but encouraged. Be comfortable, but do pay attention in class.

Even though Kristopher Lehrer’s last name means ‘teacher,’ as we examine the early pages of our textbook, Anne Barwell’s novel Shadowboxing, it is Kristopher who is most in need of schooling. Oh, he is a learned man, it’s true—a physicist working on an important, possibly world-altering project. Unfortunately Very Important Projects often become the clouds where a scientist’s head is most comfortable. Kristopher’s attitude, as the novel opens, is reminiscent of the fearless forward motion of a horse with blinders.

To illustrate, consider this: Kristopher’s friend—the man that could have been his first true love if Kristopher had been honest—is Jewish, and in World War II Germany the yellow Star of David he must wear means that he is in danger every time he steps out in public. And, though David is a respected physician, he can no longer practice medicine for the same reason. Yet when Kristopher meets him for coffee he has no clue why his friend is upset, or scared. Read along in your text (or look over your neighbor’s shoulder if you haven’t yet picked up your text). We look at what happens when David challenges Kristopher’s naivety, beginning on page eight.

“Have you any idea what kind of people you are working for?” David spoke quietly, as always, but there was an underlying tone of fear in his voice that Kristopher didn’t remember hearing before. David’s emotions were always controlled; it was something that Kristopher had envied. “Have you any idea of their real agenda?”

Kristopher snatched his hand away, trying to ignore how fast his heart was beating. Why had David come to him? Surely he couldn’t have presumed to use the closeness they’d once had to further whatever agenda he had? “I’m a scientist, David, trying to make the world a better place, just as you are. We are working for the advancement of science and for the good of the Fatherland.” The last sentence came out sounding like the mantra it was. Any doubts that Kristopher had were always dealt with efficiently when he repeated those words. While he knew the potential danger of the device they were working on, the chances of anyone considering utilizing the catastrophic component of it were remote.

“You always were naïve, Lehrer.” David raked a hand through his hair and replaced his glasses, adjusting them when they slipped down his nose. “Wake up and take a look at what’s going on around you before it’s too late.” An edge of desperation and fear sharpened his voice as he lowered it to almost a whisper; it sounded as though he was talking about the end of the world.

“Too late? Too late for what?” His earlier fears of being used vanished at David’s tone. Kristopher’s voice rose in pitch, all attempts of hiding his conflicting emotions lost as he tried to desperately work through his rapidly escalating confusion.

David shook his head, unwilling to say more, his eyes darting nervously around the small Kaffeehaus before his gaze settled on the man who had entered several minutes earlier. “I have to go. I’ve said too much already.”

“Wait!” David was already halfway out the door before the word was out of Kristopher’s mouth. He pushed his chair back, ready to follow his friend, then hesitated, suddenly unsure as to what had just happened.

A week later, dining at home with his sister Clara (whom he loves and depends on) and his father (with whom he has a strained relationship), he is shocked to hear that David has disappeared, and clueless as to why such a thing had happened. What’s more, he is just as dumbfounded when Clara says (on page 11)…

“Poor Kristopher.” Clara rolled her eyes. “You’re so involved in your work that you haven’t noticed what’s going on around you.” There was no teasing in her voice now. Whatever this was about, it was something very serious. “It’s because he’s Jewish, of course.”

… as he is when his father says…

“They are Jewish, Kristopher. What other reason is needed? Better that they are rounded up and sent somewhere more suited for their place in the scheme of things. We must not lose sight of the fact that the Jews are nothing more than parasites interested in taking control of the economy for themselves.”

We, the readers can take our first lesson from this, and the downhill spiral of father-son relations that follow. Please take this down in your notebooks. It will be on the test:

The longer you keep your head stuck in the clouds of denial (about anything, really), the more it hurts to pull it out.

Our next unit of study follows Kristopher as he goes about his work the next day. The clouds around his head have been disturbed, but not quite dislodged. Feeling cranky and a little wooly due to a poor night’s sleep, he enters his boss’s office when the boss is out, and rather clumsily knocks a pile of papers on the floor, and reads this sentence on one of them:

Cue ominous music.

We look forward to putting these plans into reality. Such a device will ensure the continued success of the Fatherland during this war against our enemies.

Kristopher’s head falls from the clouds with a mighty thud, which hurts and can’t be ignored even by a dreamy physicist.

Gott im himmel, as my very German mother would have said. Here Kristopher had been, believing he was working on nuclear fission for peaceful purposes, and suddenly he realized he’d been living in a lollipop world.

For a number of minutes, our scientist is unable to think straight. He knows what he saw, but he’s unsure of what he might do about it, or even how to keep from getting in trouble for standing in his boss’s office with his pants down (figuratively of course, because that would be far too weird).

But a guard comes along, Obergefreiter (Sargent) Schmitz, and helps him organize his brain and move his body, thank goodness. Of course, at first, Kristoffer is afraid that Schmitz will actually contribute to his danger, but he soon realizes he was lucky the Obergefrieter came along. He leaves the office that day still waffling about what to do. Like most ordinary Germans of the day, he loves his country and has some significant blind spots about it—a phenomenon not unknown at any age of the world in just about any country, including all of those where readers of this blog might be living today. But you don’t become a leading physicist if you are slow-witted. Once Kristopher’s sight is forcibly cleared, he cannot escape the truth about the leaders of the Nazi regime and what their intentions are.

After much soul-searching, presumably some hand-wringing, and a few horrid nightmares, Kristopher Lehrer confronts his boss… and is told in no uncertain way to mind his own business. The encounter goes from bad to worse. (You can read about this in home study, chapter three of the text.) When he is discovered in the room with his dead boss by the same Obergefreiter Schmitz, he figures his number is up.

Thank heaven for pleasant surprises, large and small. When Schmitz asks Kristopher if, as smart as he is, he can come up with no better plan than to threaten the guard with broken glass, here’s what happens (at the beginning of chapter four).

“My plan? […] I don’t have a plan. […] Do you honestly think I would be standing here waving a piece of broken glass if I had a plan.”

“Good point,” Schmitz admitted.

[Text elided by blogger… er, I mean university professor Lou Sylvre. Kristopher says:]

“Have you come to hand me over to the Nazis?” Whatever happened he didn’t intend to go easily.

The corner of Schmitz’s mouth turned up in a half smile before he shook his head. “I’m here to help you, Herr Dr. Lehrer.”

“You expect me to believe you?” Kristopher wished the desk behind him would disappear into thin air, although it still wouldn’t be of much help as Schmitz was blocking the path to the only door. “I know you’ve followed me for the past week.” He noticed the slight look of surprise on Schmitz’s face with a degree of satisfaction.

“You need to trust me, Dr. Lehrer.”

You may guess that Kristopher isn’t so sure that’s the best course of action, but like people everywhere when they’re in danger and want to trust someone, he looks for a way to do so.

“Give me one good reason.”

“The Nazis will be here in, Schmitz said, consulting his watch, approximately ten minutes. Either you trust me, or you tell them what you’ve just told me. I doubt they will believe your story.”

His voice softened. “I do.”

Now, students, you may have guessed that the Obergefreiter isn’t really the Obergefreiter. His real name is Michel, and he’s not even German. And his interest in Kristopher, like Kristopher’s trust of Michel, soon weaves into a whole new feeling. After negotiating much hell and highwater together, Michel soothes a startled, overwhelmed Kristopher in his own native tongue.

“A l’aise, Kit. Je suis ici… Ssh, tout est bien.”

Yes, Michel is there and all is well for the moment. There’s a whole lot more trouble to face, more evil to evade, more heroes to meet—all kinds, German, foreign, soldiers, everyday people. But Michel does whatever he needs to do to keep Kristopher alive. And since this is Gay Romance University, it isn’t giving away secrets to let you know, that once Michel has seen to the matter of Kristopher’s continued existence, he gets the opportunity to use a little French term of endearment.

“It’s all right, mon cher. I love you. I’m not letting you go.”

That is the end of our lesson, today. If you are interested in learning more on the subject, click the cover image above for a link to the blurb and purchase links. (And while you’re there, check out the continuation of this beautiful story in book two of the Echoes of War series, Winter Duet.

I thank Anne Barwell, Kristopher, and Michel for the privilege of treating the serious story of one of the world’s most painful times with a bit of irreverence. Truthfully, the heroes in this story are a reflection of all the real life heroes on every side of that war and every other, especially the quiet ones not lauded in headlines. They all deserve our gratitude, and I take no such service or sacrifice lightly.

Thanks for reading, everybody! If you’d like to check out or revisit the rest of the GRU posts, just go to

#comes a horseman #dsp publications #echoes rising #Gay romance #historical #shadowboxing #winter duet

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