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lilith-of-rivia · 3 years

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Chapter 1: The Meeting

Summary: Ina of Cintra the Lioness's firstborn daughter has been a well-kept secret. her title as princess never leaving the castle walls, her abilities, abnormalities not being uttered without the blessing of the queen. She has her entire life planned and guided so she doesn't break the Crown's rules. She has been an outstanding model of good behavior, that's until she meets a certain witcher.

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: Blood and gore, swearing, mentions of death

“Ma’am…” Knock, knock, knock. I had heard whoever it was coming to wake me up before they even got to my door.

“Yes?” I heard them hold their breath, they weren’t expecting me to be awake.

“Uh-uh yes ma’am, Druk is outside. He has sent for you.”

“Yes thank you. I’m awake.” I said as I rose from my bed. Folding at the hips my fingers gazed at the floor as I yawned in a stretch. My spins cracked along with my shoulders.

“Yes of course ma’am” There were no footsteps and the heartbeat was still there outside the door.

“You may leave now.”

“Right right, yes ma’am.” Scurried light footsteps filled the empty hall as they left.

With a heavy sigh, I contemplated the day I had ahead of myself. Mornings with Druk were never different. The day was was one full day of drills, day two was one different full day of drills than to day three, four, five, then repeat next week. Druk wasn’t like other witchers I had met. He wasn’t focused on the coin or glory. Maybe it’s because he saw his brothers and mentors be slaughtered when his Keep fell.

“Knock knock.” My eyes snapped to the door of my room, dragging attention away from the gauntlet on my. My mother stood at the door. She was still in her sleep clothes, a wool robe hugged her body as she smiled softly at me from the door.

“Morning mother,” I said looking back at my gauntlet, huffing in frustration as I struggled to get them tied.

Wordlessly my mother walked across the room, grabbing my arm as she sat in the chair across from the one I was in. her fingers delicately tied the strings tightly, the gauntlets tightening around my wrists. Once finished, she softly held one of my hands, her face was cold, stoic as always. But once she looked me in the eyes I saw the fear.

“You know, don’t you…” I nodded my head. Looking out the window of my room, breaking eye contact. I stood up walking from her to the armored cabinet in my room. I grabbed my two swords from their hooks looking over them and assessing their sharpness.

“I heard you and the court talking last night. Many in this castle forget I have super hearing.” I heard her sigh heavily, shakily.

“I’m so sorry, Ina…” I turned to her. Her gaze was on the floor, her chest rising and falling fast.

“Mum...don’t cry…” I crouched down by her side, my hands going to hers squeezing them. She looked back at me, one hand cupping my face. Her thumb softly brushed over the scar on my left cheek.

“I’m so sorry I brought you into this world...Into this life...I wish I had known your life would be so painful…” I leaned into her warm hand, my eyes closing as she spoke.

“Stop blaming yourself...everything happens for a reason...and no matter what happens after the meeting today...I will always love you.” Her hand moved from my face to my neck. She pulled me into her chest, hugging me tightly.

“I’m so sorry.” Hse sobbed into my hair, rocking us back and forth. I said nothing, just kept my arms around her, holding her while she sobbed. Her tears wetting the spot she laid on my shoulder.

“Don’t be…”

“You know princess, I do not normally wait. You are lucky the gold and wine your mother gives is so good.” Druk’s voice was below a whisper as we snuck through the damp dark woods. My hands felt the tree bark under us as we slowly tipped around the fallen trees, as to make as little noise as possible. Funny with Druk’s big mouth.

“My mother is very worried about the meeting tonight,” I whispered back, following him as he weaved in and around the thickly wooded forest. We were hot on the trails of a stray kikimore that had been terrorizing a southern village. Druk and I were sent to take care of it.

“Are you worried?” Druk asked, pausing to look back at me.

I stopped too for a moment, thinking about his question.

My eyes searched the forest around us while we sat in silence. The forest was no longer lush and green. Late Saovine meant the world was cold, covered in ice and snow. Nothing was awake. All the animals were in hibernation, birds had flown south for the winter. The only things still awake were the monsters.

“No. I’m not. Should I be?” Druk looks away from me, his amber eyes searching the forest around us.

“Tonight is the night a pannel of witchers, mages, and the royal court you belong to decide if you go through the trials...maybe a little of fear. It would be healthy.” I smirked and rolled my eyes.

“Fear isn’t necessary for my vocabulary.” Druk laughed softly, his head nodding as he looked me in the eyes again.

“Then don’t be afraid. Fuck em all. If any woman could survive the trials it’s you.” Once finished with his small sentiment, a cheesy grin spread across his face. He nodded his head in the direction of the kikimore and we both rook off after it again.

Our feet lept, ran, jumped, and sprinted across the fallen trees and rocks throughout the forest. The snow-covered ground would cause too much noise. Druk had gone to the Witcher school of the cat. He prides himself on his ability to remain stealthy and quiet, all while being just as lethal as witchers from other schools. He taught me to only put my feet on the ground when it really mattered. You’re much easier to be tracked and killed when you travel foot to the ground. But foot to a tree to rock is a different story.

Jumping from a rock onto a tree we scaled the side till we were above the tree line. Out heads stuck up and out of the dead branches. Our chests rising and falling heavily as we looked around, noses sniffing out the location of the kikimore. The high point giving us the advantage. Druk’s yellow eyes scanned the trees below while I sniffed the wind. He had better eyes than I. his mutations to thank for that. The wind blew softly and the thick smell of iron and rotting corpses seeped into my nostrils and filled my head.

“To the east,” I said quietly. Druk adjusted his direction eyes grazing the land elbow us. A small smirk graced his lips, he found it.

“It about four hundred yards northeast. Common princess no time to waste.” We quickly scaled our way down the tree till our feet were steady on the branches. He wasn’t wrong, we were already out way longer than we were intending. Meaning we were going to be late for the meeting.

Druk took the lead. His hand holding the hilt of his silver swords. His other hand out in front of him, his fingers gleaming with a soft blue tint. Aard was spoken in elder inaudible to the average human. He was prepared to blast the kikemore to give me more time to ambush it. Druk only ever took the lead, then he’d stand back and watch. He’d teach me a new skill by charging whatever beast. Whether it was a new sign manipulation, a new combat skill, or hell even how he wields his sword. He started, I’d then follow and clean up.

“Ready Ina?” There was a soft pop and a cork fell onto the ground below us with a soft thud. His head fell back the liquid pouring down his throat. He grimaced slightly before turning to me, his eyes were black as night, now white to be seen. The veins on his neck, face, and hands were dark black and bulging. The potion was vital for witchers, giving them heightened senses, and skills. Allowing their powers to increase.

“So fucking ready,” I said, a smile gracing my lips. He returned the smile, his more sinister with the help of his eyes.

My sword was in hand. The silver catching the few rays of sun peeking through the clouds above. We both moved silently through the brush. Out feet feather-light against the snow. We moved fast, never keeping pressure on one spot too long to not break the crust of the snow. Druk made it to the clearing first. The Kikimore was alerted to us as soon as we reached its small nest.

Druk’s hand thrust out in front of himself, a huge ball of blue light smacked into the kikimore, throwing it back and hard into the tree. Druk sheathed his sword and ducked behind me. The kikimore shook its head before it made eye contact with me. I crouched lower to the ground, eyeing the beast. It slowly started to move to its left, so I mimicked it. We slowly began circling one another. The Kikimore’s large gray limbs stabbed into the ground with every step. Its gross snarly face, red beady eyes looking me over, studying my every move. The only issue was I knew where and how it would be.

The kikimore pounced, its legs kicking up dirt as it tore after me. The short distance between us was gone in no time. I lunged out of the way. Diving and rolling away from the clumsy beast. I was much smaller, giving me an advantage.

“My my what an ugly fucker you are.” I mocked. The beast turned to me again, and let out a low grumbly growl. I was moving closer to its nest. I could smell the rotting bodies even worse as I moved slowly. My eyes never leaving the kikimore.

It charged again. I slashed my sword through the air, spinning around, splicing my sword up in the air. The kikimore squealed and screamed as its leg fell from its body. Spinning on my heels my sword slashed through the air again, making contact with its neck. The sword slashed through the beast’s thick, fat neck like butter. The screams stopped, the kikimore’s body falling limp on the ground, blood-spewing, and pooling on the ground and around my boots. I sighed heavily, a smile gracing my lips again as I whipped the dark black blood from my blade before sliding back into its sheath on my back.

Clap, clap, clap. “Very well done princess!! A full-grown warrior kikimore down in two strikes, no potions or magic!” Druk had a smile ear to ear, his potion still in effect. Seeing a laughing, happy smiling witcher with pure black eyes was a sight to see.

“Only as good as my mentor my dear friend,” I said with a laugh. Crouching to the ground, my hand gathering the small tuft of hair atop the kikimore’s head and lifted it so it was eye level with me. Blood dripped from its mouth, nose, and eyes. Its dark purple tongue hung out of its mangled mouth.

“Add another one to my list.”

III

“Common hurry Druk!!” I yelled through the rain as we ran up the cobblestone road towards the castle. The kikimore’s head swung over my shoulder. “We are already late they will have my head!!” Druk ran from the stables after me, quickly catching up with me right as I neared the doors.

The two guards opened them for us as we walked through. I breathed heavily, my lips blue as my teeth chattered. Despite my many abnormal traits I still got just as cold as the average human. The rain had come out of nowhere. The two of us speed walk down the corridor, our muddy boots squeaking against the marble floors as we got closer to the royal library. A place I’d only ever been when I was being threatened by the crown’s court. The doors appeared ahead of us as we both halted before we could be close enough to be heard. The floor below us was wet as we dripped head to toe.

Glancing at Druk I gulped, now that I was about to walk into the room, I was more than terrified. The prospect of the trials was so much closer than they had ever been my entire life. Druks hand went to my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You’ve got this.” He whispered, before giving me a soft push towards the door. I took a deep breath before shoving the door open, swallowing the fear and placing the stoic look of my mother back on my face.

The voices in the room stopped when I walked in. my boots stopping heavily on the floor. My eyes glanced around the room, everyone there were people I have known for many years. My mother stood in the center of the room by her throne, my sister who was not supposed to be here was next to her. They looked scared.

“Sorry, I’m late, had a prior arrangement.” I heaved the beast’s head over my shoulder and threw it on the floor. It flopped down and rolled a little its tongue falling out as its cold dead eyes stared up at Gadri, a member of the Crowns Court. His face scrunched in disgusts before he kicked it away from his shoes.

“You are nearly three hours late, Ina.” I rolled my eyes my attention going back to my mother and sister.

“What is she doing here?” I asked pointing to my sister.

“We think it’s important that the future queen gets to help make choices regarding her subjects.” Hazzez, a plump fat little man with a bald shiny head and large white mustache and beard said standing from his seat.

I huffed, the corner of my lip pulling into a sly smirk as I shook my head. Water falling on the floor.

“Yes, the future queen who passes her sister even tho her sister is the senior. Yes, and my sister needs to be in control of whether I will be subjected to the trials and if I’ll die or not.” Druks witcher attitude tended to rub off on me. Witchers are trained, to be honest, overly honest. Blunt and rude is what many present them as.

“Ina. enough.” my mother said sternly, her jaw tightening. I bite my tongue nodding my head. My fingers pulled at the buttons of my jacket, throwing it on the floor in a wet pile. The room was cold, making the wet clothes on my body send shivers down my spine.

I glanced around the room, eyeing the other members of the Crown’s Court. And then the other few people who were in the room. Tissaia, a mage from Aretuza smiled at me fondly as we made eye contact.

“Hello, princess, my how you’ve grown.” Her voice filled the empty room. I smiled back at her.

“Tissaia-” I bowed my head to her softly, “yes, it’s been a while hasn’t it? What 15 years?”

“17 years.” my mother chimed in behind me.

“Whos the mystery man next to you?” I asked her, she glanced over at the witcher who was perched next to her. Druk was seated next to him.

“Well get to that in a second. Please sit down.” Hazzez said, gesturing to a lone isolated chare in the middle of the room.

It was as if I was on trial, for simply being born.

“Druk how has she been doing?” My mother asked, her eyes glaring daggers at the five men who were attempting to discredit the years of work and training I had done with Druk.

Durk rose from his seat next to the other witcher, a bored look on his face. “She is exceptional. Not only her physical talents in combat and swords but her book knowledge. I’ve trained three other witchers before her, and none of them come close to the skills she posses. She is a skilled alchemist, a skilled swordsman, she is skilled in nearly every talent she tries. I would trust her in a battle to have my back any day. It has been an honor training her for 15 years, your highness.” I smiled at him, a smirk covering his lips.

“With all due respect your highness we are not interested in what the witcher from a failed school has to say. The witcher to his right has been watching her and keeping track of her success. That’s who we care about.”

Before the witcher could address them, Tissaia stood up. “What is the problem here gentlemen. On her fifth birthday, you all made this a rule. You said her abnormalities would only ever benefit her if she was trained as an assassin or a witcher. She has been trained for 17 years by a witcher, as a witcher. She has proven time and time again she doesn’t need the trials and mutations to be as skilled as a witcher.”

“Thank you, Tissaia, but need I remind you that you are only here to as a stand-in for the mage in your court who can still perform the mutations. Please sit down and be quiet.” My mother shot Tissaia a look, making her shut her mouth and sit down. The witcher next to Druk stood up.

“I have been following her and her trainer. For months now. Even just today I followed them while they killed the stray Kikimore. She killed the Kikimore with two strikes something many of my boys have struggled with as fully mutated and trained witchers. She without a doubt has a talent and a heart of the witcher.” I heard my mother’s breath catch in her throat as she held my sister’s hand. My sister was stating at me, had been since I sat down. Her face was painfully still, her throat tight as she breathed heavily. She looked scared, so did my mother.

“Tissaia, you will take Ina to Kear Morhen. Along with the mages in your court. The mutations will be done by the end of the week.” My throat ran dry. Hazzez kept talking but my brain tuned him out. None of us thought they would go through with this. The chances of me surviving the trials and the mutations were nearly impossible. Less than 20% of the boys who face the trials died. And the mutations are designed for male genetics, not females. I was never supposed to be mutated, just trained.

“Hazzez you piece of shit!!” My mother screamed as she stood from her chair. Her hand reached for the dagger she kept strapped to her thigh.

Her hand came down quickly with the shinny dagger, flying towards Hazzez face. My hands quickly caught her arms and I pushed her back. Knowing if she killed one of her court members over me I would surely be sent away and killed, no chance of survival.

“Mother mother please stop it please,” I screamed into her red, tear-stained face as she attempted to fight me off. Her chest rose and fell heavily. She hissed through her gritted teeth, she was probably breaking teeth.

“Queen Calanthe-” Hazzez spoke. I turned to look at him, my back to my mother. Her dagger is in my hand. I threw it to the floor, kicking it away. “Do not forget the sympathy the crown, and your father gave you for your bastard daughter. She should have been killed out of the womb. But your father cared too much for you. Count your blessing that you got 20 years with her, and at least she will die with a little bit of dignity.” Hazzez stood up to leave, the four men ready to follow him, they gathered their belongings.

“Gentlemen.” My mother said, her voice harsh and cold like the wind outside. Her brows set in a low glair as she looked them up and down. “I am still your queen, you do not get to control everything. It’s clear you’ve made your choice, but when it happens. That is my choice. She is my daughter. I choose when she goes with the witcher. I do not know when that will be but it will be after her sister’s betrothal. If you have an issue with that, find a new court to control.” the five men looked at her, then each other before nodding and walking out of the room silently.

My mother’s hands held my arms as she dragged me into her chest. My sister came up to us both, her hands wrapping around both my mother and me I. her head resting on my shoulder. Wrapping one arm around her and one around my mother, I let my fear fall. My fear came out in silent sobs. My shoulders shook, my eyes clouding as I stared at the wall behind my sister. The tears pooled down my face.

My mother pulled back, one hand on each of my cheeks, her fingers brushing my tears away.

“You will be the first female witcher to ever be. You will make history.” my shoulders started to shake more violently as I cried more. The impending end of my life is on the horizon. My mother’s denial was just to help her cope, but we both knew how it would end.

“Mum...we both know what will happen to me...I won’t survive it.” my voice was broken as I spoke caving as I cried. Her fingers moved faster to wipe my tears as she shushed me. My sister’s hands are on my arms and back.

“Even if that’s the case, it won’t be for at least another month. Live your life for the next month the way you want to, no regrets,-”

“No hesitations.” I interrupted her, a small smile tugging at my lips. Her eyes softened at me. She leaned in placing a soft kiss on my forehead.

“You can do this Ina. You are the Lioness Cub. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

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evermoreweasley · 4 years

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it was all yellow (fred weasley x reader)

(all images are from pinterest)

summary: fred and y/n are just friends. however, when the two of you go on a camping trip with your friend group you both are pushed to finally tell each other how you really feel.

fluff prompts:

“I think I’m in love with you.”

“Apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together.”

song prompt:

yellow ~ coldplay

warnings: brief mention of battle of hogwarts, food, kissing, fluff!

a/n: this is for @theweasleysredhair 9k writing challenge!! I couldn’t help myself, this is also a friends to lovers, hope it’s okay that I included a trope :)

You double checked that you had packed everything in your backpack as a soft, familiar voice interrupted your organizing.

“Are you excited, y/n?” His morning voice spoke out.

You looked up and saw one of your best friends, Fred Weasley, sleepily glancing at you as he made his way into the kitchen, his red hair sticking up in all directions. You had to admit it to yourself, he looked adorable.

“Tired, but excited.” You smiled as you made your way over to the coffee pot.

Today you were going to go on a camping trip with your best friends. This was a trip you all had been planning and looking forward to since the battle of Hogwarts. You all decided you needed to get away for a bit, relax, and unwind since the stressful and heart crushing events that had taken place two months prior.

Ginny was visiting Charlie in Romania, along with Bill, Fleur, Percy, and Molly and Arthur Weasley. So this trip was just you, Fred, George, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“I don’t know why Hermione insisted on us waking up at 5 am,” Fred mumbled as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Are you at all surprised that she wanted to get an early start?” You responded as you poured him a cup of coffee. “Here, I know you need this.” You handed him the cup.

And as tired as Fred was, he still managed to smirk at you. “Thanks, darling.”

“Hey,” Hermione started, bolting down the stairs. “We got to get there to see the sunrise and the sunset.”

“But why?” Fred challenged as he sipped at his piping hot cup of coffee.

“Cause it’s beautiful of course, maybe you should be asking why not.”

You walked into the backyard of the Burrow as Hermione strutted right next to you. She was holding a spare piece of parchment as she read out loud the list of items for the trip.

“Sleeping bags?” She called out.

“Got em.”

“Tents?”

“Yes, ma’am.” George called back, sending an unexpected wink your way.

You furrowed your eyebrows in question at him and he simply nodded his head over at Fred, winking once more.

You turned and looked at Fred, who looked back at you, just as confused.

“George, what are you-” You started to ask.

“Wands?” Hermione interrupted.

“George, I swear to Merlin if you-” Fred started as he quickly approached him.

“Yup!” Everyone, except you and Fred, said quickly in unison.

“Who brought the food?” Ron asked as he shoved a peanut butter & jelly sandwich in his face.

Hermione giggled as she playfully pushed his shoulder. “Ronald, you’re eating all of it, save some please.”

“Fine,” He sighed as he wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve.

“Okay,” Hermione sighed, looking around at the group. “Is everyone ready to apparate?”

You all nodded, getting close to one another. Suddenly George lightly bumped Fred into you. “Oops.” George said cheekily as he eyed you both. Ron made eye contact with George and started to chuckle.

Fred lightly blushed as he opened his mouth to respond but Harry interrupted. “Everyone, get ready.”

You closed your eyes tight and felt a quick rush of air pass you. The smell of the sea hit your nose and you felt plush grass tickle at your ankles.

You opened your eyes and saw a bright, beautiful stream of orange and yellow as the sun rose high in the sky over the sea. Your mouth fell slightly open as you took in the beautiful sights of Wales.

“See,” Hermione hummed. “Now aren’t we happy we came early?” She interjected.

“We’re tired.” Fred and George said in unison.

“Oh, shush you two.” She responded and you giggled as you started to help her set up the tents.

You pulled away to admire your work.

“Wait a moment,” You started as you turned to look at Hermione. “We only have three tents here, where is the fourth one?”

George suddenly appeared on the other side of you. “Oh no,” He said in a sarcastic tone. “Ron, my dearest little brother, did you forget to pack the extra tent?”

Ron held in a chuckle as he responded. “Oops. I must’ve, George.” He then turned to you. “So sorry, y/n.”

“You two are so not sorry,” you hissed.

“What are we going to do?” Hermione asked as she folded her arms across her chest.

“It was going to be Fred and George, Ron and Hermione, Harry in one, and myself in another.” You spoke out, slightly annoyed.

“What a predicament,” George smirked. “Oh well, I guess it’ll just have to be Ron and Hermione, Harry and myself, and Fred and y/n in the tents.”

Fred suddenly appeared behind you as he nibbled at a peach. “What’s going on?” He asked suspiciously.

“Freddie,” George cheered. “So glad you came by to hear about our new sleeping arrangements.”

“New?” He questioned as a bit of juice from the fruit ran down his chin. You first looked there, then at his soft lips, then his chocolate brown eyes. You swallowed hard before looking away as you ignored the fluttering feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“We’re sharing a tent.” You muttered quickly, before looking down at your feet.

Without even looking at him you could tell a fiery blush had set place on Fred’s supple cheeks. “George-” He started but was cut off by Hermione.

“You guys.” She huffed. “Let’s just eat some breakfast and carry on. Nothing we can do now.”

You blinked quickly, looking Fred up and down as you thought over something quite strange. Fred was not acting like himself. He was fidgety, quiet, and seemed nervous about something. He wasn’t his normal outgoing, goofy, high energy self.

You shook your head and convinced yourself it was probably just cause he was tired.

Later that night, you all sat around the campfire. Ron had eaten at least six s’mores and was currently sprawled out across Hermione’s lap as she gently ran her fingers through his red hair.

George suddenly stood up and gave out an over exaggerated yawn. “I’m so tired,” he started.

“It’s not even 10pm!” Fred challenged back.

“Bed!” George exclaimed.

“What?” Harry questioned, clearly confused at George.

George gave Harry a stern look and then Harry suddenly started following him to their tent.

“Us too,” Ron said as he stretched out. “Come on, Hermione.”

“What is going on?” Fred asked, very annoyed.

“Goodnight.” George said to you and Fred with a smirk and a wink as he turned to his tent.

“But-” you started.

“Goodnight.” He said again cheekily as he closed the tent behind him.

Fred looked over at you sheepishly. “Are you tired at all?”

You shrugged in response. “I could try, I guess.”

Fred quickly put out the campfire before he followed you into the tent, closing it behind him.

“This is...” you started, looking around the small tent. “Cozy.”

Fred chuckled in response. “I’m convinced that they gave us the smallest tent.”

The feeling of Fred’s body lightly touching yours as you kneeled in the tent was overwhelming. You had to remind yourself to breathe.

“I’m gonna go look at the stars for a bit, actually.” You lightly smiled as you made your way out of the tent.

You looked up at the night sky. Bright stars shined up above you and you smiled as you fell backwards into the soft, green grass. You were full from campfire s'mores and you were so content.

“Hey y/n,” Fred started as he walked over to you before sitting down. He laid on his back and placed his hands behind his head to prop himself up.

“Hey Fred,” you smiled.

Silence filled the space around you for a moment, but it was a comfortable silence. You could hear the wind and the sea. Everything around you felt very still and calm but also every part of you felt electric.

Your senses were heightened. But why?

Why were you nervous, you asked yourself. Fred is your best friend, you’re never nervous around him.

You broke the silence as you looked over into his chocolate brown eyes. “Are you also surprised that everyone else is already in their tents?”

“Not really, no,” he said sheepishly, looking up at the stars instead of over at you.

“What do you know that I don’t?” You giggled as you cocked an eyebrow up at him.

“Isn’t it obvious, y/n?” He grinned as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“What?” You asked as you looked him over, the moon illuminating over his face.

“Apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together.” He breathed out.

You giggled as you looked up at the night sky. “You’re joking.”

When you stopped laughing you looked over at Fred to see that he wasn’t laughing with you, just staring at you intently.

You didn’t know this but Fred thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever met, the way your eyes sparkled when you saw the sea, the way your laughter filled a room, the way your smile brightened up his day. The way you made him feel.

He was in love with you ever since your third year, when you helped him in potions class at Hogwarts.

Everyone knew it, everyone but you.

And you loved him too, ever since your fifth year when he skipped class with you to go to the black lake because you just couldn’t handle Snape’s class that day.

Everyone knew it, everyone but him.

“You’re-” you started, studying his face momentarily. “You’re not joking.”

“I’m not.” He scanned your lips, before falling back on your eyes.

Fred knew that now was his moment, right here, right now. Underneath the sparkling stars and moon shining down on your beautiful face. He smiled as he thought to himself, look at the stars, look how they shine for you. And all the things that you do.

The way Fred was looking at you made the feeling in the pit of your stomach intensify. The light breeze blew past you and a trail of goosebumps settled over your skin.

Fred’s chocolate brown eyes scanned your eyes for another moment before taking a deep breath.

“Y/n,” he started, before taking a long pause. “I think I’m in love with you.”

You watched as his chest lightly rose and then fell with his breaths. Your eyes trailed up his chest and then fell onto his eyes.

“Fred,” you whispered as your own chest rose and fell. Your heart beat underneath your shirt intensifying with happiness. “I love you.”

Fred’s face lit up as a smile took over his features. “You do?”

“I do.” You hummed.

Fred chuckled lightly in delight before he leaned forward. He looked into your eyes deeply before fluttering his eyes closed and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

You fluttered your eyes closed and saw stars shooting behind your eyelids. Your kiss intensified as you tangled your arms and legs in his as you lightly rolled over in the plush, green grass.

The feeling of Fred’s soft, supple lips on yours, his smooth, slender hands on your waist, and the smell of the sea drove you over the moon.

Fred’s tongue grazed your swollen lips and you opened your mouth in acceptance.

A sudden movement behind you caused you to pull away, your arms rapidly falling to your side as you both bolted to sit up.

You looked up to see George emerging from his tent. “About time, you two,” He smirked. “Oi, Ron!” He called out.

Ron emerged from his tent. “Finally!” He exclaimed.

“If I wasn’t so bloody happy right now, I would chase both of you down.” Fred chimed in, a smirk clear in his tone as he eyed his brothers.

You giggled as you leaned into Fred. He held you close as you looked upwards and you could’ve sworn you saw a shooting star.

#twrh9kwritingchallenge #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x you

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evilzoldyck · 4 years

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Goosebumps

You should have taken the offer to go through the Haunted House together with your friend. The ominously decorated attraction that appeared fun and harmless from the entrance now became unnerving as you lonely walked down the hall, hands gripping tightly to your chest. It was your friends’ idea to visit this low-key haunted amusement located in the middle of nowhere, deep into the woods and far from the metropolitan area where the main entertainment took place.

Initially, you were opposed to the idea as the infamous ‘Haunted House’ your friends extolled was too far away and thus didn’t carry any signal in the area. Also, the ticket fee for one was way too pricy that it was enough to sour your night despite one of your friends, Jay, offering to spot you in which you politely declined.

The drive was far and so the place was about to close up soon when you arrived and after seeing all your friends’ enthusiasm in the pursuit for adrenaline, you couldn’t help but feel guilty for bringing the mood down. In the end you acquiesced, paid the fee and entered the house at your own discretion.

You thought it was ridiculous that company made you sign a contact beforehand, something about promising not to sue or whatever. You knew it was all just an act to heighten the customers’ anxiety instead of an actual legal precaution. Things wouldn’t be so bad inside as it was policy that their employees mustn’t directly touch or use an object to make physical contact with the customers.

However as of right now, you wished you could take those words back. For an underground seasonal business, they’ve managed to pull off an incredible event. The house was situated like a maze in which each room had a different elaborated concept which sometimes included your participation to get to the next stage.

The last room included a very convincing Witch with decent prosthetic makeup on her face and a shrilling laugh concocting a death potion in her black rusty cauldron. She instructed that you bring her the eyes of a goat, toad spit and a rotting tooth in return for your life, which generally meant she’ll show the exit. The challenge was a bit stress inducing as her ‘un-dead servants’ kept trying to grab at you while she wickedly reminded you to hurry up or else she would feed you to them.

In just a few minutes you’ve managed to collect all the ingredients, thankfully the spit and the eyes came in a jar. She begrudgingly took them from your hands and pointed to you a hidden exit before her servants came running at you in full speed, making you stumble into the small door and closing them shut. You could still hear her laughter through the door as you heaved out a sigh. Though your blood was pumping and your heart was beating out of your chest, it was a scare that left a smile on your face. Perhaps you now saw the appeal of haunted houses and rollercoasters.

In the end of a long narrow corridor was a red door. The sign underneath a glowing green exit read another in ‘blood’ to push hard for the ghosts in the mansion wishes to keep you here forever. You let out a small laugh and began to push at the handle, frowning when it wouldn’t budge. Putting all your weight against the door you whined when you made no progress.

Feeling chills down your spine, you grumbled at your Halloween costume, it didn’t help either that the place went crazy with the AC and the fog machine. Fixing your bloodied nurse outfit down and rubbing your arms to soothe the biting cold, you turned around and jumped back slightly in surprise at the sight of someone else with you.

A tall and large-build man stood imposingly from behind you. He wore dark pants and a single sleeveless shirt that was so thin you could make out the shadows of his bulging muscles and pectorals which made you blush and look away for a second. Either he was very serious about his character concept or he was just built like a Greek god. You cleared your throat and reverted your gaze to see that he was holding a large blood stained machete and a mask to cover his face.

“Um could you help me?” while pointing at the door you managed to ask guessingly. “What do you need to me to?” You asked once again, figuring out this was supposed to be the last challenge. However the man didn’t say anything, he just stared at you through the mask and though you couldn’t clear see his line of sight, you felt him raking his eyes up and down your body.

Growing uncomfortable at the stifling silence, you see a glint in his hand which revealed to be a key that he was holding. “Is that the key?” you hopefully questioned as you reached out for the key, knowing you won’t get a response anyway. “May I-“ you gasped when he held it out of your reach suddenly. You wore a tiny smile as you played this rather childish game, reaching out and jumping on your toes as he held it high above his head. You could feel the deep reverberations of his chest as he chuckled at your feeble attempts.

It was at that time you noticed you were far too close to him. Letting out another sharp gasp, the man pulled you close to him by the waist. With your hands to his chest, you could feel his strained muscles from underneath his shirt; his thumb softly rubbing your hips. You were sure this guy just violated one of the rules of this place.

When you were about to push him away, he brought the key close to your face finally allowing you to take it. Squeaking out a small ‘thank you’, you felt his grip reluctantly loosened as you turned back to the door to hastily unlock it. You noticed he was still boring his eyes into you as you closed the door from behind, not making a single movement as he stoically watched you close it. Stepping into the cool night air, you shrugged the strange the interaction off and decided against reporting him to the place. You didn’t really want to deal with the confrontation.

You heard a call of your name from the distance and smiled in relief. Reuniting with your friends around the car you joyously shared tales of your experiences inside. “I don’t know how you did it alone, I was with Mina and I almost went crazy.” Your friend Leigh-Anne exasperated, holding her hand into her still pounding heart.

“You should have gone with us!” Mina quipped. “I nearly socked the clown when he came out of the box- and when he came charging towards us I swear I nearly fainted.”

“Well you were fine enough to run and leave me behind!” jested Leigh-Anne, “you closed the door while the clown was still chasing after me. My heart was about to burst at that moment.”

“For real we were screaming so much you’d think an actual murder was taking place.” She sighed. “But it’s not as crazy as you two,” Mina pointed to you and Jay. “How could you both go alone?” you shrugged at her question and replied that you wanted to make the experience scarier for you as Jay agreed. Now thinking about it, maybe going as a group would make it more fun.

“The last one though,” you trailed. “Don’t you think it was a little weird?”

“The Witch?” Jay asked, raising a brow.

“No the last one, just by the exit.” You clarified to your friends, pointing at the door where you just left. However their expressions didn’t shift. “You know the guy with the machete and a mask? He was the one that held the key.” Your friends continued to look at you like you grew a head. You furrowed your brows in confusion. “You couldn’t possibly miss him he was so tall and huge.”

“There was no one there,” Mina laughed. “The exit was unlocked anyway why would there be a key?”

“I didn’t see anyone either on my turn too, the Witch just pointed the way out then it was over.”

“Holy shit, did you see an actual ghost then?”

“What? No, no he was real.” You awkwardly chuckled along. “Are you guys being serious right now?”

“That’s three to one, you’re being haunted.” Leigh-Anne made spooky noises and played with your hair teasingly as you rolled your eyes light-heartedly. When the lights finally shut from the establishment you all made a move to get inside the car.

“He was there.” You enunciated once more before getting inside.

“I believe you,” playfully sang Jay from the drivers seat.

The moon was at its peak, shining so brightly it made the drive just a bit easier without the streetlights to assist. Your friends were still happily engaging on sharing the stories of the place, occasionally making jokes at you and the mysterious ‘masked ghost’. Waving them off you returned your attention back on the window, it just came to you how deep inside the forest you were as trees were all your eyes could see. Not a moment later the car suddenly stopped as the engine sputtered and died out.

Jay cursed and propped the hood open before letting out another curse. “Um I’m going to go back and get help. Something wrong with the battery.” He quickly explained as he retrieved a flashlight from the glove compartment, getting ready to sprint.

“Wait! I’ll come with you,” you offered, getting out of the car. Jay refused, saying it would be quicker if he went alone. “You calling me slow?!” you called out as he was already far into the distance.

“There’s a reason why I was school’s best track and field and you weren’t!” you heard his faint yet breathy voice retaliate back at you as you scoff out a laugh at his remark.

Half an hour went by and you all started to get worried when he didn’t return. “I’m going after him,” you finally stated, getting ready to get out and run. Mina stated that she’ll go too while Leigh-Anne stayed back, suggesting that someone should stay in the car in case he came back.

Trekking down the road with your hand in hers MIna suddenly asked, “you know when you said you saw someone else in the Haunted House back then,” you hummed back in reply. “You were just joking right?” She gripped your hand tightly as you looked at her worried face. “It was just a joke to rile us up, there wasn’t actually a huge masked man with a machete?”

Knowing full well what she wanted to hear you replied back, “yeah of course.” Nonchalantly shrugging it off like it was nothing. “It was a poor joke now that I think about it.” Guilt tugged at your insides but you knew you couldn’t scare her even more, now that you were all at an extremely unpredictable environment.

You heard her sigh in relief and hugged your sides, “I knew it. You’re such a bad liar.” You weakly laughed at her jest and tried to push the thoughts of the strange man away. When you finally arrived back to the place it looked like a proper abandoned house. All the lights were off, you should’ve expected that as it was way past their opening hours, but all the cars that you assumed were the employees’ were gone too. You and Mina knocked on every door and window to get a response but your own voices echoed back at the empty place.

What’s stranger is that you couldn’t find Jay anywhere too. His flashlight, however, was found on the ground near the exit of the house. You figured there was no way that he could have went inside for all the doors and windows were barricaded shut. After a good twenty minutes of searching around the perimeters of where he could have gone, you and Mina decided to get back to the car with a heavy heart. The walk was fast but silent, neither of you had anything to say to each other.

It was when you saw the car with one of the door opened that you two began running towards it. “Leigh-Anne?” Mina gasped at the sight of the empty car. “What’s going on?” she exclaimed, tears springing up her eyes and as you were about to reply, you finally saw him. The masked man from the Haunted House with his machete freshly coated in blood, stalking leisurely towards the both of you. Mina turned and widened her eyes at the sight, grabbing her hand in yours you both made a run for it into the woods.

Breathing heavily through your nose you could hear his boots thumping against the ground, his speed gaining close to you both. At one point you both let go of each other’s hands to run faster and soon you couldn’t hear or see her anymore.

Knowing better than to call out her name and give out your location you began to look at your surroundings but it was so, so frustratingly dark. The kind of darkness that made your head ache from trying to see anything. The moonlight couldn’t offer any help for the trees’ thick foliage covered it all. Your eyes couldn’t make out anything and only when you heard Mina’s terrifying screams and a sudden silence through the dense forest did you find the strength to keep running.

Tears stung your eyes while your lungs burned like fire from overexertion. Tripping on a rock, you sobbed out a pathetic weep as you crawled forwards, not doubting that your knee was badly scraped in the process. Seeing as you were grabbing onto rocks, you glanced up to find a raging river in front of you.

Thick pairs of hands grabbed at your sides making you scream in response, kicking away at your assailant and scratching at his arms. The man grunted as he pinned your arms down with one hand swiftly and locked your legs together with his thighs. It was only then could you see your perpetrator clearly, his green eyes wide and dilated as he took in your form. Your breath was caught in your throat at how truly menacing he was up close. There was blood sprayed on his white mask and the smell of him thick with iron and sweat. For a moment you were paralysed with fear as he studied your face, fingers trailing your wet cheek softly along with your lips and nose.

The man came closer and placed his head between your breasts, breathing in the scent of you deeply. He must’ve lost himself in you for a moment as he caressed the curves of your body, relaxing his other grip on your hands. You made a quick decision to grasp onto a nearby stone to hit him straight on his temple. The man grunted in pain from your attack but didn’t fall in the end, your heart was at your throat when you realised you had messed up perhaps your only chance to escape. He glared angrily down at you and when you attempt at another swing, he blocked it by capturing your small wrists in his strong calloused ones.

“Agh!” you cried when he broke it with a simple squeeze, letting the rock fall from your hand. Nevertheless, that didn’t relent you from trying to fight him as you squirmed in his powerful hold. It was as if he knew that you weren’t planning to stop fighting him did he pick up the same rock you used to hit him with to successfully knock you out in one swift strike.

Groaning softly in pain, you feel yourself move through the air by a pair of secure arms. Looking ahead of you with your blurry vision, you saw the man stare ahead at a light that slowly came into view. There was a cabin dimly lit inside, tucked deep into the forestry and not that far from the river. You couldn’t bear to take a guess of what’s to happen to you the next time you woke up and so you let sleep cloud your consciousness instead.

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multimilfs · 4 years

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Young!Eda Clawthorne x Young!Fem Reader: Confidence

Summary: Anon sent in “I can picture cursed!reader in her Hexside years to be this shy, insecure witchling at first, but after she met Eda, becomes this (as Odalia puts it) overconfident witchling. Just, high school years between the two that ends with reader finally standing up to Odalia and Eda comforting reader after she is cursed by her bully (but like you said, she doesn’t tell Eda who cursed her).”

A/N: Writing Young Eda was a little more difficult than I expected, ngl.

Warning(s): Mentions of Bullying

Walking the halls after class, you kept your eyes focused on your shoes. Your body ached and you didn’t want anymore trouble today. It was too bad that you never really got what you wanted.

“Oh Y/N-!” Odalia’s voice came from behind you, dripping with fake sweetness.

Gulping, you walked faster, rounding a corner quickly in hopes of losing her. Instead you knocked into someone. Someone who was extremely sturdy.

Looking up, you met the confused eyes of Hexside’s resident prankster, Eda Clawthorne. She looked a bit ruffled, but she always did. You stepped back from her quickly.

“I’m so sorry!” You said, a bright blush creeping up your features. In your haste to get away from Odalia, you hadn’t been looking where you were going. You felt mortified.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” She said with a friendly smile, showing off a gap in her teeth that you found adorable, “I’ve definitely had worse. Where were you going in such a hurry anyway?”

As if summoned, Odalia rounded the corner with a devious smirk. She stopped short of you when she saw Eda.

“Clawthorne.” She snarled.

“Hey there, Greenie.” Eda smiled, enjoying that she could anger the other girl without having to really try.

“What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know, there is this crazy new thing called learning. Aren’t you supposed to be training for the Emperor’s Coven? You might need to do a little bit more studying.”

You watched as Odalia’s face went bright red and her fists clenched at her sides. She glared at Eda, then you, then Eda again. But she couldn’t manage to form a decent retort, so she let out a growl before turning and leaving the way she’d come.

“Talk about a pain in the neck,” Eda muttered, “Anyway, where were we?”

“Oh,” You said, suddenly realizing all of her attention was on you.

Searching through your mind for any reason of where you’d been going, but you came up short. And you didn’t want to admit that you’d been running away from Odalia when Eda had so easily dealt with her. Luckily, you were saved by the bell.

“Dang. Miss Jenkenmeyer is not going to be happy with me,” Eda said, “Sorry for making you late too.”

“D-Don’t apologize. It was my fault.” You insisted.

“Nah, I kept you. I’d still like to know where you were going though. Come find me during lunch, yeah?” She asked, giving you that confident smile again. You found yourself nodding, feeling a bit awestruck.

“Y-Yeah.” You stuttered out awkwardly, blushing brightly.

You prepared yourself for some kind of joke or comment, but none came. Instead, Eda let out a laugh. She gave you a look that you couldn’t decipher before heading on her way, only turning around before she was out of sight.

“See you later!”

She didn’t give you any time to respond before hurrying away. You offered a shy wave, but you weren’t sure she’d seen it.

“Yeah, see you then.” You muttered to yourself, failing to stop the smile that was spreading across your face.

—

“Hey Y/N!” A voice came from your left, making you startle slightly.

Looking up, you saw Eda moving over to you quickly. She always moved so fast. You never quite understood why, though.

Plopping down on the seat next to yours, she looked over slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of what you were reading. You hid it. The last thing you wanted to admit to was reading a flowery human novel. You knew she hated them.

“What are you reading?” She asked when she couldn’t get a look at it.

“Nothing important.” You said evasively. Eda raised an eyebrow, before shrugging.

“Alright. Do you want to come over tonight? Lily is going to be out of the house, so she won’t be around to complain that we’re ‘too loud.’” Eda said, before letting out a snort at her impression of Lilith.

You smiled at her before realizing what she’d asked. It had been a really difficult day for you; Odalia had managed to get to you when Eda had been called to Principal Bump’s office, which had exhausted you both physically and mentally. You really just wanted to go home and relax. But you felt horrible saying no to Eda.

“Sure. That sounds fun!” You offered her a smile.

Something about your tone must have been off though. Eda stopped laughing, looking at you seriously. You shrunk slightly under the gaze.

“You know it’s okay if you don’t want to, right?” She asked.

“I-What? What are you even talking about? Of course I want to come over!” You spluttered.

Eda just shook her head. She reached out and took your hand, which forced you to stop trying to explain yourself and listen. It made you nervous that she was so serious. That wasn’t like her.

“There is nothing wrong with having your own wants. You don’t always have to do what makes other people happy.”

It felt like her eyes were staring through you, reading all of the secrets hidden in your brain. You looked down, embarrassed. Doing what you wanted was difficult. You always worried that people would get angry with you or get hurt if you didn’t want to do what they wanted.

“It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you,” You said softly, “I’m just really tired today.”

“That’s okay. Don’t be afraid to tell me that. In fact, I want you to do it right now. Say, ‘Eda, I’m really out of it today and I don’t feel like coming over,’ just like that.” She said.

“Eda, I can’t-“

“Ah, Ah. You can.”

Taking a deep breath in, you reminded yourself that this was Eda. She wouldn’t get angry. It wouldn’t hurt her feelings. She wanted you to do what you wanted.

“Eda, I’m really out of it today and I don’t feel like coming over.” You said, attempting to sound as confident as you could. It must have worked. Eda smiled proudly at you.

“See! That isn’t so hard!” Eda said encouragingly.

“It wasn’t, but it’s… hard, for me.” You admitted, feeling ashamed as you admitted it. When it came to academics, you were brilliant. But when it came to being you, you often felt like a witchling.

“I know. But we all start somewhere. It will get easier,” Eda’s tone was uncharacteristically soft, her gaze the same. She leaned over and kissed you on the cheek sweetly, trying to hide her own blush, “I’ll see you soon, okay? Get some rest.”

“See you soon.” You said in the same soft tone, a small smile on your face. It didn’t go away until she’d left completely and you realized how much you’d miss spending time with her, even if it was only for an evening.

—

“Y/N, do you think you could help me out?”

One of your potions classmates, Balon, had come up next to your desk. He wasn’t rude, but he usually wasn’t so friendly; so you were a bit wary of what he wanted.

“Maybe.” You said slowly.

“Amonei said you were really good at creating potion essences. I have a lot of work tonight, and I’m really out of it, so could you do mine for me? I’ll pay you for it.” Balon said, playing up how tired he seemed to be.

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. He’d approached you so that you’d do his homework for him. You probably shouldn’t have been surprised; he never paid attention in class anyway. Despite probably needing the money, you refused to get in trouble for doing his work. Principal Bump had zero tolerance for it.

Summoning all of the confidence you’d slowly been gaining, with Eda’s help, you met his eyes and shook your head.

“Thanks for the offer, but no.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?” He asked, his voice a little louder than it should have been.

A few heads turned to look at the two of you. One of them being Eda’s. She took in both of your expressions and made to stand up and come over, but you held your hand up, stopping her.

“Exactly as I said; no. You can do your own work just like the rest of us.” You spoke confidently, channeling Eda as you looked at him.

His face burned bright red. Balon was a notorious charmer, known for getting his way no matter what. Nobody had ever told him no before.

“You’re going to do it or, or else.” Balon spluttered angrily, grabbing your arm in a vice grip.

You froze for a second. Which happened to be a second too long, as you saw Eda get out of her seat quickly. Before she could reach you though, an intense anger came over you, like you’d never felt before.

How dare he try and force our hand? A voice in the back of your mind questioned angrily.

Motivated by that anger, you put your hand on top of his, digging your nails into it. He let out a small yelp before releasing his grip.

“I. Said. No.” You growled.

He took a step back in shock. The few people who’d been paying attention were as shocked as he looked. Eda stepped between you two just in time, as you felt your confidence slowly faltering.

“Back off, Balon.” Eda said fiercely.

“Screw you, Clawthorne.” Balon hissed, but did as she said.

As soon as he was back in his seat, Eda whirled around quickly, making her bright hair nearly smack the person next to her.

“Well look at you, big shot,” Eda said with a proud smile, “Way to stand your ground.”

You blushed, looking down at your hands as you fidgeted.

“Did I do okay?” You asked nervously.

Eda’s smile softened and she nodded, pulling you into a hug. You buried your face into her neck. It felt safe there.

“You did amazing, sweetheart.”

—

Your limbs felt heavy and you couldn’t stop shaking. Every little sound around you was heightened, every smell stronger. And your whole body hurt so bad.

You had no idea how you’d transformed back. Maybe you didn’t want to know. Then every bit of the world seemed too much, too overwhelming. And the only person you wanted was Eda. Eda could help you make it all better.

Eda had been dealing with her curse for some time now. You were well versed in how to help her, but had no idea how to apply it to yourself. She was the only person it felt safe to share this with.

Trudging around the Clawthorne house, you came up to her window. You’d never been so grateful that her room was on the first floor. Tiredly, you rapped your hand against it, wincing at the feeling. Your skin was still aching from the transformation.

Shuffling could be heard from inside of the house. Then, with sudden, jerky movements the curtains moved aside to reveal Eda’s face. Her eyes widened when she saw you.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” She asked worriedly after getting the window open.

“I-I’m sorry, Eda, I d-didn’t know where else to go.” You admitted, feeling your throat tighten as the day’s events threatened to overwhelm you.

“What happened? Did someone hurt you?”

You watched as Eda hopped out of the window, landing next to you. She reached out to pull you close, but you let out a cry when she touched you. It hurt so much. You slowly bundled yourself against her chest, hissing every now and again when you moved too fast. When you were both settled, Eda slid down, until you were both sitting against the house.

Everything felt like it was building on top of you, pushing down on your chest like a weight. You closed your eyes and did your best to focus on Eda. Her arms wrapped lightly around you, the way her jacket smelled like burnt foliage from grudgby practice. Everything.

“Sweetheart?” Eda whispered after a while, not bothering to hide her worry.

“They,” You started, your voice sounding scratchy, “They cursed me, Eda.”

You felt Eda’s chest stop mid-breath. Her hands were shaking against your back, clenching in your shirt. You wanted to look up into her face, but felt too tired to move.

“I’ll kill them,” Eda growled after a while, “Give me their name. I’ll take care of it.”

Her voice was stone cold. It sent a shiver down your spine. Part of you wanted to tell her, but you were so tired. You felt so low and defeated. Since meeting Eda, you’d grown so confident in yourself and your abilities, thinking it was finally time to stand up to Odalia. But she’d been prepared with something far worse than any hex or insult. She’d chanted out a curse while your back was turned. Then everything had gone black.

“Sweetheart? Tell me.” Eda said.

“I… I don’t remember.” You lied.

Knowing the way her voice shook, she was about two moments away from a blow-up. You couldn’t tell her. You didn’t want to. Defeat set into your bones, making you feel weary. All you wanted was for all of this to be over.

Eda’s frame relaxed slightly. She didn’t remember who cursed her either, so her anger was replaced by sympathy.

“Okay,” She whispered, “Come inside. You can stay over.”

Eda helped you in through the window, doing her best to avoid bumping you. She remembered keenly how sensitive her skin was the first time she’d gone through the transformation. After you’d managed to get in relatively unscathed, she wrapped you up in her arms, holding you close in the bed.

“I’m scared, Eda,” You whispered against her chest.

“I know. We’ll fix this,” She whispered back, “Everything will be a little bit better in the morning.”

#edalyn clawthorne #eda x reader #young eda x reader #the owl house #eda clawthorne #the owl house x reader #eda the owl lady #eda clawthorne imagine #the owl house imagine #wlw #wlw imagine #eda clawthorne x fem reader #oct2020 #multimilfswritings

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magicalforcesau · 3 years

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Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden~ Chapter 21 - Year 2: May

(ao3 link)

Palpatine would never expect his morning to start with something as pathetic as tripping over a potted plant upon entering his office. He managed not to fall, and bit back a sneer as he kicked the damned thing over. Someone had been in here… He could tell even if it wasn’t explicitly obvious. Not a single thing seemed out of place, but as he studied his desk it seemed to have been moved. Now that he mentioned it, everything in the room had been moved ever so slightly to the left, just enough to cause suspicion and clearly just enough to cause him to stumble like a newborn deer.

“Maul,” He growled, waving his wand in search of any hidden surprises, but had the madman tried to set any curses, his alarms would surely have been set off. Yes, he’d known he was close and had his suspicions that he was in the building.

A few days ago, the leeches had been let out of the potion storage. The Slytherin students hadn’t been very thrilled when several of them were found in their beds. Palpatine had dealt with it, regardless of how he’d prefer his house learn to deal with such trivial matters themselves.

The Slytherins he went to school with were much braver than the cowards of today.

Such an event he could chalk up to an accident, or a student lurking where they shouldn’t be. Yet even still, he found it unlikely that the leeches found their way into the common room on their own.

Of course he was the only one with such suspicions. The braindead ministry dogs stationed outside of the school had nary a clue to where Maul was at any given time. Maul would have to do nothing short of waltzing up to them in handcuffs before they’d realize what was right in front of them. With the sloppy way Maul was presenting himself, it was even more damning.

Even more useless were the pitiful dementors that couldn’t seem to find him even if he’d announced himself front and center. Though truthfully, Palpatine had some theories on that.

Maul had gotten soft in his time away it seemed, reduced to petty pranks and trickery like the student he’d never fully been. His former apprentice had never been particularly focused, becoming the killing machine of his namesake easily and with little prompting. Now, after many years to stew in the place where most lost their minds if not their souls, he refused to move his sights off of Skywalker.

Palpatine waved his wand again, righting his office to its proper position. He would not fall prey to such a mundane task as moving furniture, not when he had much bigger fish to fry. He walked around his desk staring a hole through the daily prophet left sitting there, Maul’s wanted poster still front and center.

If his former apprentice wanted to waste his time riling him up, he could do as he so pleased. Palpatine had worked too hard and too long to bring his plans into fruition. When he finally got his hands on him, Maul would learn to regret even the slightest action against him.

***

“Did that exam feel…” Satine paused, still in shock as they put greater distance between themselves and the courtyard.

“Short?” Obi-Wan finished for her, clearly still reeling from the same level of unease over the whole matter. They’d all passed- even Hondo- but that hadn’t exactly been hard since despite all of the drills and practices they needed to run, the exam somehow only consisted of a simple apparition across the lawn and back. Such practices were normally not possible at Hogwarts, with the sole exception being when a class was being taught.

“Yeah,” She nodded, confusion still pouring off her in waves.

“Even I thought it was a little too easy,” Cody admitted, which felt like a true testament that Obi-Wan and Satine weren’t simply disappointed that they hadn’t been challenged, “Normally, you’d never hear me say that, but…”

“And this isn’t our typical Charms or History of Magic exam,” Obi-Wan said.

“This is something akin to a driver’s license.” Satine turned to both of them, “And I promise you that while not rocket science by any measure, the driver’s test at least tries to prove that you can do the basics.”

“Hondo fell on his bum when he landed and he still passed.” Obi-Wan added, concern knitting his brow. “Makes me a bit worried what sort of people they’re allowing to apparate.”

“That’s just it, my brothers told me about the apparition exam and they always said they made you run drills like they did in class.”

“I remember Qui-Gon saying something similar,” Satine bit her lip, “Do you think they did this because of everything going on?”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Obi-Wan said and they continued walking, “Think about it, we were all out in the open, with a murderer on the loose. I bet they wanted to get it over with and usher us inside as fast as they could.”

“Then delay the test,” Satine shrugged, “I don’t get what the rush was to approve all of us.”

“Maybe it’s a means of escape,” Cody said darkly. “I just hope it doesn’t result in any other consequences. I don’t know if either of you have ever been splinched, but-”

“-It’s not comfortable,” Obi-Wan filled in a bit too quickly for either of his friend’s satisfaction. Particularly Satine looked concerned at how immediate his reaction had been. She’d heard of it, of course, but as a muggle-born, it never happened to her. Most of the time, according to Windu, it was clothes or hair lost to splinching, but there were instances when flesh was wounded.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat before either could comment, “I suppose the bright side is, we passed.”

Neither were so sure how bright it was.

***

Ventress has truly anticipated expulsion or at the very least, suspension, and maybe this would have been the case under Headmaster Yoda’s rule, but whether she deemed it lucky or not, she was receiving no such punishment with Palpatine.

“I hope you understand where you belong, Ventress and see that I have afforded you mercy because of your family.” Palpatine said in that smooth, light voice. His eyes spoke of a different story. Something haunted him or perhaps he was the one who'd done the haunting. He was lauded as the kindly old potions’ professor, but she knew from experience that one didn’t climb so high up the social ladder without breaking backs on one’s way.

Dooku was that way and she’d been one of the backs he’d broken. She wasn’t even a high peg on a ladder to him, just a meager foot stool.

“Did you write them?” She asked, because it was always good to know when she’d be expecting a howler in the mail.

“Not yet,” He tsked, walking around his desk, “Though I suspect I won’t need to. Word travels fast enough.”

Yes, this cursed world did appreciate a show more than anything else. She had never expected hers to be deemed a pitiful tragedy- a failed villainous uprising. She’d hoped that when her story broke that she’d have the support and care of her sisters at either side. Instead, as always, Ventress was alone.

“What are you going to do with me, Headmaster?” She asked, looking up into his eyes. She didn’t feel remorse for her actions, per say, just that they were evidently in vain. Like any true Slytherin, she was willing to do whatever it took to achieve the means to an end.

Part of her wanted expulsion or to be thrown away without the key. Anything, at the moment, seemed better than going back home and groveling and pretending that she was an abused victim. She wanted, with everything in her heavy bones, for this to be her narrative rather than the reality that she was nothing more than a bookend to Dooku’s and his master’s. She loathed the concept of being used, of being the victim, even if she knew her survival would depend on playing that role.

Palpatine watched her with almost serene calmness, like he could sense the way her thoughts bled. Nobody knew Palpatine’s story, because he kept that close to the chest. Ventress wondered if they ever would, even after death.

Everyone had their secrets.

And Ventress missed hers.

“Well, I’m stripping you of all authority, for starters,” He said, walking around his desk to sit behind it again, “Seeing as you are still a minor, I’ve managed to convince the Ministry to not toss you into Azkaban. If and only if-”

If there was one thing Ventress hated more than pretending, it was negotiating, which was a large facet of the pureblood world. People negotiated the terms of courting rituals, business deals, even social events and how they would proceed. It was all one big set of terms and conditions.

Even if she quite possibly still stood solely for her pure hatred for Dooku, she still couldn’t help but agree with some of those ideals. Would she abandon them in an effort to sabotage him? Yes, without hesitance. It was but another means to an end. She’d abandoned so much of what she knew already. It was only icing on the cake.

“What?” She asked, keeping her hands cross in her lap to prevent herself from clawing at the desk between them.

“You must tell the aurors everything you know about Dooku,” He said sagely, but it was clearly rehearsed, quite possibly just before she came in, “And my dear, they will know if you’re lying.”

***

Despite the waning student population and the heightened anxieties surrounding Maul sightings in the area, they were still allowing the Quidditch match between Slytherin and Hufflepuff. It seemed like a desperate grasping for normalcy from the staff members still trying to keep up morale. It didn’t feel very normal, however, when all four houses fit neatly within the bounds of the Gryffindor section of the field. The professors didn’t want everyone spread out and those with friends in other houses welcomed the opportunity to chat outside of class. Satine had positioned herself between Obi-Wan and Cody, they were sitting closest to the exit. She felt almost like she was being watched and kept glancing behind her, but there was no one there. Paranoia certainly.

“I hope Hufflepuff beats Slytherin,” Cody grumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest, “It’s the only way to get Gryffindor back in the running.”

“I think that’s fairly unlikely,” Ben nodded towards the field, a soft glare on his face, “Ventress looks angry.”

“When doesn’t she,” Satine muttered, ignoring Ben as he turned his concerned eyes onto her.

She was willing to put the experience behind her. Though she doubted she’d ever forget what it felt like to be slowly turned to stone. The girl in question had lost her title as Quidditch captain, but had remained on the team. It seemed though, they hadn’t gotten around to choosing a new captain because Ventress still approached Breha to shake hands. So it was simply the matter of losing a title and not really a position. If in fact Headmaster Palpatine didn’t bother to enforce such things.

Then again, she always knew he favored purebloods.

“Shouldn’t even be allowed to play,” Cody crossed his arms, “She shouldn’t even be allowed to be here at all.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t haul her off to Azkaban.”

“Do you really think a child belongs on that foul island?” Because that’s what they were, children. Satine didn’t think that such a horrible punishment would be worth it for someone who likely only recently turned 17. For something so horrible to be done on her account as well? She couldn’t stand for it. She wanted Ventress to find peace and she certainly wouldn’t be able to move past being a pawn for Dooku behind bars.

“It’s starting!” Cody grinned and leaned forward. At least this time since they were stuck in the back she wouldn’t have to worry about keeping him from falling over the ledge.

***

“Hey, Professor! You coming to see the match?” Anakin asked.

Kit Fisto flashed them a bright smile, which came easily for him even with the rumors that it would be cancelled due to Maul’s lingering presence. Anakin found that he was having a more difficult time offering legitimate smiles these days. Never did he ever consider that Maul was capable of drawing so close to the school.

“Just making sure there aren’t any stragglers, Anakin.” He said, “We’ve all got to stick together, after all.”

“Yeah, okay, but make sure you come watch! Gryffindor might not win the cup this year, but it would be pretty cool to see Ventress get beat by Hufflepuff.

“There’s got to be some punishment for what she did to us,” Rex growled with a clenched fist.

“And what’s better than getting demolished by the worst team in Quidditch?” Anakin said cheerily, although Rex didn’t seem so sure that was appropriate. Neither did the few Hufflepuffs that shot him dirty looks as they passed.

In spite of this, Kit Fisto laughed, his long green tentacles wiggling as he did, “Yes, well, I’m sure Headmaster Palpatine won’t let her off completely scot free.”

“I think he just let her play because she’s a good player,” Anakin grumbled.

“Now, now, there’s a lot more that goes on behind the scenes than either you or I are privy to,” Fisto said placatingly, “We’re all doing what we can to keep you guys safe.”

“I know.” Both Anakin and Rex said in unison.

“Even if I do feel like this might be testing fate a bit,” He gestured to the large crowd of people, “I suppose it is nice to see everyone so happy for a change.”

It was, but even Anakin, who had made some bold and sometimes foolish decisions in the name of fun, thought it was a little soon. He’d heard rumors that Palpatine was being pushed by the Ministry to hold the Quidditch matches anyway. Apparently, there was a decent gambling pool that relied on which team would come out on top.

“It would make me happier if Slytherin loses.” Rex said.

He leaned down to their level and winked, “Between you and me? Same.”

“We’ll see you in there?” Anakin laughed.

“I’m right behind you,” Fisto nodded.

***

Breha was never one to underestimate her opponents. Slytherin team may have been without a captain, but she still knew they would be looking to Ventress for plays. They’d been working with her all year after all. It was, however, still something they could take advantage of. A few of the Slytherin players would certainly be willing to try and usurp the queen in order to gain the position next year and that would make their play style much more chaotic than it would otherwise be.

That was excellent for a team like Hufflepuff, who thrived in their teamwork. None of them had the same level of ambition as many of the Slytherin’s she knew. Ambition wasn’t always a bad thing, Breha would be hard pressed to say she didn’t possess some level of it herself, but in a situation like this, she knew her team would flow like a stream whereas their opposition would butt heads like a rockslide.

She knocked away the Quaffle from the golden hoops as she kept a careful eye on the bludgers that were being knocked her way. Her chasers were quick to grab it out from the competitive hands of two Slytherin chasers. Hufflepuff was steadily racking up points and although they were nowhere near to beating them without the snitch, it certainly was quite an embarrassment for the house of green and silver. Normally Hufflepuff would be hard pressed to get the ball through a ring at all.

“Get it together, you useless swine,” Ventress hollered at her team as she skirted dangerously close to their heads. If she likely wasn’t in the mood to get into more trouble, Breha wondered if she might hit them with her bat.

“Good job!” Breha cheered with a smile as her own team scored a point. The cheers erupting from the audience were quieter than they usually were, but loud enough to hear over the wind. Breha frowned, taking her eyes off the game for only a moment to search her surroundings. She almost thought she’d heard a scream.

She turned, around and narrowly managed to catch the Quaffle with her hands rather than her face before tossing it down field. The audience cheered again, but something didn’t feel right. Breha’s hands twitched on the handle of her broom. She could call a timeout, but she would hate to waste something over a feeling.

She glanced around again. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

She raised her hands to make the call when a loud whistle jolted the game to a halt. Breha dodged a bludger as they both went sailing for their holding crate. Professor Tiin was holding up his hands in a desperate T. She descended quickly on her broom and the rest of the students in the sky followed.

“What’s going on?”

***

“They’ve stopped,” Satine was surprised. She’d watched a lot of Quidditch despite her distaste for it and she certainly hadn’t seen anything like this happen before, “A time out?”

“Somethings up,” Cody was the one to respond. He was watching the field with interest, but there was a layer of worry that he normally didn’t have when watching even the most dangerous of crashes, “Ref called for their grounding; there wasn’t anything wrong with the game.”

“No penalties,” Ben nodded. He too looked concerned, eyes flicking around the stadium. Satine found herself looking behind her again. She no longer felt eyes on her, but she certainly felt like the hairs on the back of her neck were beginning to raise. Before either of them could comment further though, Headmaster Palpatine’s voice, amplified, filled the stadium. His tone was less than pleased.

“Students and Faculty,” He started solemnly, “We must immediately return to the castle.”

Chatter filled the stands at once, not just the children either, but Satine caught Professor Plo turning to whisper to Professor Windu. Neither of them looked like they knew anything.

“What about the game?” A fourth year Gryffindor yelled, “It’s against the rules to stop!”

“What’s going on?” A Ravenclaw third year added from a few seats in front of her. Satine felt like her limbs were full of lead as she reached out to clutch the sleeve of Ben’s robe. She had a bad feeling.

“The game is not important,” There was a soft sigh that was barely audible past a few outcries from the student body, “It brings me a terrible sadness to inform you of the passing of Professor Kit Fisto-”

Cries of outrage and of sadness expelled themselves from the student body. The Professors, while schooled better on their emotions, looked just as surprised as they stood, immediately gathering students and shuffling them towards the exits. On the field, Professor Tiin was doing the same with the Quidditch teams.

“It has to be Maul,” Ben hissed at them, “He’s getting bolder.”

Neither she nor Cody could make much of a response though, being swept amongst other panicked students out of the stands and onto the sprawling grounds. Satine only realized she still had a grip on Ben’s sleeve when he tripped and fell, and she narrowly avoided the same fate by letting go.

“Ben-” She started reaching out a hand for him when she noticed he’d tripped over a first year who looked rather shell shocked, wide horrified eyes filling up with tears. He must have fallen first and narrowly avoided being trampled on.

“Oh, hey there, it’s alright,” Ben had noticed too, taking the time to help the boy up off the ground, despite the shouts of professors for them to get back in line, “Come on, we just have to get into the castle, alright? We’ll be safe there.” Satine felt like she was intruding, but refused to leave them there alone. Luckily, the boy took Ben’s hand quickly and the three of them shuffled back into the crowd quickly.

As soon as the last student was through the doors to the castle they slammed shut, latching forcefully behind them. The doors to the Great Hall did similarly.

“Bloody hell, I thought you two had disappeared,” Cody ran up to them, looking relieved. His own brothers fell at ease the second he turned away from them, clearly he’d rounded them up first thing.

“Is Anakin-?” Ben whipped his head around to look and Cody pointed towards where Anakin and Rex were looking pale and shaken, but alive.

All were accounted for it seemed, all but Professor Kit Fisto, who had died at the hands of a mad man while guarding the far side of the pitch, alone.

***

A funeral for Kit Fisto had been held off grounds- somewhere in the middle of the ocean for all of his aquatic friends and family members to properly mourn him in accordance with their traditions. His ashes were sprinkled over the Mariana Trench, where he’d done some of his biggest work.

His absence left the school caught in a limbo of uncertainty. Professors were in a mode of practicality only and it was hardly blameable. Maul had not only gotten within their barrier, but had committed a gruesome act of violence that some students had the horrors of bearing witness to the aftermath of.

Kit Fisto had been treated not like a person, but a sign to be waved on a stick, to show just what Maul intended to do to each of them if they didn’t give him Anakin Skywalker. Classes were taught within the confines of the common rooms to keep students from traveling elsewhere. With the blocked off tunnels, it seemed like the only safe space to keep Maul out.

No longer were even prefects allowed to walk the halls. Patrols were cancelled, and professors and aurors walked every space and brought food to students as well as taught their classes. It was a mess, really, and students were definitely affected by the change. Less and less faces were present, many removed from the castle altogether at the insistence of their parents.

However, those who remained were downcast and gray just like the sky outside their windows. A greedy part of Obi-Wan was thankful that his friends were still here, even if the current circumstances didn’t allow him to see Cody or Anakin. He was surprised Satine’s mother didn’t bring her home, though he had his suspicions of the extent at which she knew. It was hard to tell with the muggle families. They didn’t get the same news as wizards did, but it seemed awfully callous for there to be no warning from the school.

Then again, professors were quite busy working alongside the aurors to track Maul down. Part of him wondered where he could possibly be hiding, but really, there were endless corridors at Hogwarts that he’d never known of- not until the existence of the map, anyway. Even then, the fabled Room of Requirement was still out there untouched. Pure intentions were supposed to unlock it and he had severe doubts that Maul’s qualified.

This castle that they’d once been free to roam had shrunk significantly for all of them. He couldn’t even imagine being in Slytherin house and segmented only to the lightless space near the dungeons.

The news of Kit Fisto’s tragic demise took a while to reach outside outlets, for it wasn’t until an entire week later, shortly after his reported funeral, that they’d received a very dramatic and incoherent Floo call from Aayla. Even in the charcoal embers taking form into her face, he could tell she was blubbering like a baby.

“HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN?” She wailed and the other students in the common room, who were a bit piled on top of one another, turned their bodies to try and allow privacy to the fireplace. It wasn’t like Aayla seemed to mind much.

“Er, I know this must be difficult for you,” Obi-Wan tried awkwardly as he searched his eyes through the room. Where was Satine when he needed her? There weren’t too many places to go, after all.

“DIFFICULT? TRY IRREVOCABLY HEARTBROKEN TO THE LARGEST DEGREE? HE WAS SO YOUNG SO KIND SO BEAUTIFUL.” She shook with tears, “Too good for this world, honestly. I don’t… I don’t know how I’ll go on.”

Obi-Wan didn’t think himself a callous person, but he sure as hell didn’t know how to navigate this conversation without further setting her off, “He will be dearly missed as he was a favorite teacher for most.”

“He’s more than that!” She bellowed, but it wasn’t intimidating due to the hiccups she’d recently caught, “He was the kindest soul placed on this earth like an orb of light- and I but a moth drawn to him…”

“Yes, of course!” Obi-Wan panicked, “I didn’t mean to reduce your care for him, I only meant-”

“Aayla?” Satine was suddenly knelt beside him, looking over his shoulder and into the fire.

“Yes, Satine, Aayla heard the unfortunate news regarding Professor Fisto-”

“DON’T SAY HIS NAME IT’S TOO SOON!” She sobbed.

Satine flashed him a scathing look and he shrugged helplessly. Aayla did have a point about there being many extremely crestfallen students over the professor’s death. Beyond simply grieving a good professor and person too. Many of the remaining members of Fisto’s fan club were inconsolably upset, like they’d just lost the love of their young lives. It seemed he’d made a big impression in his short time as a professor, even if not necessarily the way he’d intended to.

Even on that scale, he’d be missed. Although reserved by bureaucratic restrictions, Fisto tried to teach them to fight, to protect themselves. In many ways, Obi-Wan preferred him as a professor to Dooku (even removing the sinister Sith stuff), because of how approachable and charismatic he’d been. Obi-Wan was in a bit of disbelief even still that he was gone.

“Did you see him?” She sniffled.

Satine tensed, but shook her head, “No, and I don’t envy those who did.”

“No, I suppose not.” Aayla said, “You know what my last words were to him?”

“What’s that?” Obi-Wan asked.

She breathed deeply to stabilize herself, “That I’d perfect resistance to the Imperius curse while at home. What kind of goodbye is that?”

“Well, you couldn’t have possibly known, Aayla.” Satine said soothingly and Obi-Wan wondered how she maintained the careful line of logic and empathetic. It would be beautiful to bear witness to under different circumstances that weren’t this depressing.

“Maybe not, but I haven’t even been able to do him justice by practicing my resistance!”

“Everyone’s having a hard time studying in this climate,” Satine said and looked around, “We’re all on top of one another in here.”

“Plus, rumor has it, someone’s fixed up a shrine for Professor Fisto in the girl’s bathroom,” Obi-Wan said.

“I should be there to pay tribute,” She said. “If it weren’t for my parents, I would be.”

“It’s better that you’re not,” Satine assured, “You can properly mourn him when you come back, when everything is safe again.”

If it was safe again. She hadn’t said it that way, but he could tell by her demeanor that she was thinking of it. It had only been a week since they were confined to their common room, but it was starting to feel very much like they were trapped. His only means of asking how Anakin was aside from the fireplace was through Qui-Gon and his daily visits.

“I’LL NEVER LOVE AGAIN!” She cried.

“Erm,” he bit his lip, “There there, he wouldn’t want you to be-”

“-He would never know what I want, because I, like many others, kept my feelings locked within my heart instead of on display. It’s the stupid logical side of me.”

“Well, he was your professor.” This was not the correct thing to say. “You couldn’t possibly pursue a relationship-”

“-Ben, why don’t you referee the first and second year’s game of gobstones, since you like it so,” The edge to her voice queued him into realizing that thankfully, it was not a suggestion.

“You still play that?” Aayla wrinkled her nose, briefly distracted from her woe, “That’s for children!”

“It’s a very tactical game, thank you!” Obi-Wan huffed.

“Kit liked darts.” Aayla remembered that she was supposed to be heartbroken.

Obi-Wan took his opportunity to exit before it was lost on him, feeling a bit guilty for leaving Satine with that mess to clean. As it were, sticking around was only making it worse. He just hoped that the other houses were faring better than they were locked up.

***

If it weren’t for the blanket of loss that stained everything, Anakin probably would have called their mandatory lockdown some sort of break from school. The concept of a “staycation” was lost on Rex and his brothers, but it was even less pleasant given the circumstances. The first day hadn’t been bad, since they all basically hung out and tried to distract themselves with snacks and jokes. Seven days in, however, it was getting tedious and it was even worse by the professors attempting to teach the entire common room at once, which meant that half of it was far too confusing and ahead of the game for even Anakin to grasp.

Plus, he didn’t have Obi-Wan to edit his stuff, which made a big difference. Qui-Gon did offer to deliver any parcels or letters back and forth, but that felt silly when he could always theoretically use the fireplace. Acknowledging that they might be in here for a while was starting to get to him.

“I’d give anything for a game of Quidditch,” Cody sighed as he flipped through a magazine on the very subject, wistfully running a hand on the glossy pictures that depicted summer fun in the most recent digest.

“Quidditch? I’d give anything to do a lap running around the castle,” Rex added with a stretch of his leg, “I’m going stir crazy.”

“Need I remind you all that you lot rejected our suggestion for indoor Aingingein.” Fives piped up from his spot on the floor beside his twin.

“Yeah, and I’ll never be desperate enough to try that inside!” Cody said, “We haven’t even got any barrels to light on fire anyway.”

“We could improvise!” Echo complained. “It doesn’t have to be on fire.”

“With you lot, it’s always on fire.” He said pointedly, “Even if it’s not supposed to be.”

“I have always excelled with pyrotechnic spells,” Echo said smugly, “Definitely a strong suit of mine.”

“Of ours, thank you,” Fives corrected.

“Never thought I’d hear the day where you’re the voice of reason,” Anakin said to Cody, who turned his head lazily with a crooked smile.

“Process of elimination, kid.” He said, though Anakin viewed Cody as more responsible than he gave himself credit for.

He felt guilty for allowing himself to feel monotony. Someone had died, after all, and the only reason they were all stuck here was because Maul wanted to eliminate the Chosen One- a title he couldn’t believe he’d once been proud of. They were all lucky to be safe within their common room and that Maul hadn’t incited anymore violence the day he got Fisto. Even that small consolation felt immediately hollow as Anakin thought of it.

It didn’t stop the darkest crevices of his mind from generating possibilities of Maul picking off each standing professor and auror, leaving them trapped and with no real way of knowing what was happening. It was horrifying. Judging by The Daily Prophet, reports weren’t being as authentic as they could be about the sheer amount of danger they were in.

“What’s the first thing you’re doing when we get out of here?” Rex asked him.

“Oh,” Anakin hadn’t really thought of it, “Probably never complain about having to wake up early for class ever again.”

“I hear that.” Fives said, “Getting up and moving to a different room sounds like a dream. Anything has to be better than sitting here wasting time.”

Anakin glanced over towards the other end of the room, where Padmé was perched near the window, allowing the natural light of the sun to provide an angelic glow on her face as she read the book in her lap. Even though they didn’t have to, she still dressed in Gryffindor robes and had her hair pulled back in two buns that were fanned out at the base of her neck and shimmering with a silver glitter.

In the pocket of his robes was the necklace he’d decorated for her. There were so many moments where he wanted to give it to her, to tell her that he painted it with his hands and that he knew life was short and that meant seizing it while you had it, not isolating him.

He considered standing and approaching her, sitting opposite and inquiring about what she was reading, telling her she looked lovely, and making this anything but wasted time for him.

The thought washed away faster than it appeared and an announcement chimed through the entire room, silencing everyone from the idle chatter that kept them sane thus far.

Anakin didn’t need to hear it before to know who it belonged to.

“Professors and students of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry,” Maul addressed them all like a king addressing his loyal subjects, “Despite how the Daily Prophet might paint me, I am capable of being reasonable. You see I am not as young as I used to be, so I see no issue in leaving the castle and its occupants unscathed. There is but one thing that I desire.”

Anakin’s heart was pounding in his chest and he felt Rex’s hand on his shoulder immediately. It should have been stabilizing and comforting, but all it really did was serve as a reminder as to why Maul was even here.

“Give me your precious Chosen One, and I will see to it that there is no more bloodshed,” Maul continued, “For it was not long ago that I was in your midst and though I was treated like a feral animal not worthy of teaching, I do have some sentimental nostalgia to this place. After all, every hero requires an origin story.”

“We do not bargain with murderers, Maul.” This time, Anakin truly did know the voice to be Mace Windu’s firm tone.

“A pity, Professor Windu, a pity indeed,” Maul remained completely calm and neutral, which Anakin hadn’t expected. They all watched the ceiling as though they waited with bated breath for him to sink through it. “Because until you submit to my conditions, I will cut through every single person in this school until I get what I want.”

“You will not succeed, Maul.” Palpatine, this time, echoed through the room, even if not physically present.

A long pause, and then, “I’ll be the judge of that, Headmaster.”

And then, a laugh so sinister and cold that Anakin swore his blood was frozen solid. Everyone was watching him as the voices faded and they were only left to the crackling of the fire. He stared straight ahead, burning with an anger and fear so bright that he felt he might physically glow.

“We aren’t going to let him get you, mate.” Rex insisted severely, “You hear me?”

He didn’t doubt that they would do everything in their power to save him, but Anakin already had the guilt of his mother’s disappearance weighing on his conscience. He wasn’t sure he could bear another.

At the thought of his mother, he practically saw stars. This monster had been the reason his family, his home, his protector was gone. He took her and did who knows what with her. And while he knew from deep within him, from the small little voice that told him so in his most horrible dreams, he wasn’t ready for such a threat.

But he also wasn’t ready to lose his mother and he certainly wasn’t ready to allow his friends to take any heroic falls for him. Maul was here for a reason and perhaps, that’s what he needed, to have it handed straight over to him.

“Anakin.” Rex said again and shook his shoulder, “I don’t like that look you’ve got on your face.”

He stared at his friend, memorizing the kindness on his face. He didn’t deserve him. “I’m sorry, Rex.”

“It’s not your fault!” He insisted, scoffing at the idea of it. “He’s a lunatic! He’s gone and murdered a professor because of a stupid poem that was written centuries ago! So what if you’re the Chosen One according to that! Isn’t Qui-Gon always saying the future is always changing?”

He was, but right now was the present, which Anakin could only control his own actions in.

“I am sorry for that… And for this,” He nodded, but then blasted his friend backwards with a swift stupefy spell, and raced out of the room before anyone could grab him. One of the Fett’s nearly succeeded and ripped a piece of his robe, but the door slammed behind him before he could be fully pulled back.

He was going to face Maul.

***

Satine, like every other student in the school, was horrified at the conversation they’d all heard booming in their ears. It felt like an immense invasion of privacy and had intended to have that effect, considering the initial source. They were lucky enough to have Qui-Gon present when it occurred for class, but any comfort that his presence might have offered was swept away when he immediately made for the exit with his wand ready.

“Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan was paler than she’d ever seen him and watching his mentor with a fear they never should have known, “Don’t.”

“I will do what I must, Obi-Wan,” He nodded, “As will you, I’m sure.”

There was a passing secret language between them of which Satine did not understand and was not intended to. Whatever it meant, it caused Obi-Wan to look ready to snap in two right before her eyes.

He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it, not knowing what to say at all under such circumstances. They were under siege by one man, who couldn’t be stopped by aurors or Dementors or even their notable DADA professor. She felt her heart plunge into the pit of her stomach as the severity of this dawned on all of them. For a moment, it felt like there was no one else in the room but the three of them.

“Yes, Professor.” He said instead of what he’d meant to and just like that, Qui-Gon Jinn was gone and the door behind him locked.

Obi-Wan stared at where he’d left for a long moment, fists balled and whether it was the angle of the sun or otherwise, his eyes looked glassy. His lip didn’t tremble and his breathing didn’t change. Instead, he looked rigid beyond repair.

“I’m sure he’s just going to Gryffindor’s common room to check on Anakin.” Satine said as she cautiously approached him to rest a hand on his shoulder blade. He didn’t flinch or jump at her touch, but it did feel like he had transported off to another plane of existence.

“That’s exactly what he’s doing.” He said heavily and finally turned to meet her eyes, “Maul went to this school. Surely, he knows it well enough to know where the Gryffindors sleep.”

That had also occurred to her, but right now, standing in front of him, where they were both so desperately trying to grasp onto some semblance of hope, she didn’t want to voice it. She feared their time for seeking solace was well passed.

“Maul doesn’t know the codes to get in.” She said firmly, “He won’t be able to get in and get Anakin. The Fat Lady wouldn’t allow for it.

He did nod at that, “Yes, it was a security measure from-”

“-The war, I presume.” She raised an eyebrow, “As everything is?”

“Actually from the amount of teen pregnancies occurring from inter-house relations.” He said frankly and it nearly made her laugh if it didn’t sound like such a believably ludicrous solution only thought of by wizards.

Any light quip she was thinking of making disappeared into nothing as the fireplace burst into a hasty shout of, “Kenobi? Are you there? Satine? Anyone?”

They rushed to the fire again, recognizing their best friend’s voice in mind-numbing alarm. Any younger students dove out of the way immediately on instinct to avoid being knocked into the flames.

“Cody, I-” Obi-Wan hadn’t even gotten a word in edgewise before he was promptly cut off by Cody’s furious shout, which was no doubt trying to compete with the noisy background surrounding him.

“ANAKIN’S ESCAPED!”

“What?” It was Obi-Wan who interrupted this time. “What do you mean he escaped?”

“He’s going for Maul!” Rex cried, shoving his brother out of the way, “I tried to stop him, but-”

Anything else Rex said faded to the background, though she suspected it was mostly nonsense judging by how upset he clearly was.

No, that couldn’t be. Her heart was thundering in her ears at the implication. Anakin was giving himself up for slaughter, but she knew in her heart that despite his claims, Maul would not stop there. Violence only begets more violence, especially when from the hand of a bloodthirsty animal.

“Stay put,” Obi-Wan’s voice was almost unrecognizable. It was deeper, commanding, and completely unlike the gentle witticism she’d grown used to (and fond of) over the years. Had she not watched him speak, she might not have believed it at all.

“Kenobi, don’t you even think-” Cody shoved back in.

Obi-Wan didn’t allow him to finish the sentiment, ending the connection and shoving himself off the ground with nearly as much speed as he’d gotten to it, aggressively shoving through a surrounding crowd, knocking Fenn Rau onto his arse when he tried to block him from the exit with tremendous ease. Satine followed through the space he’d left in his wake, desperately trying to reach him with a pounding dread that washed her into a blinding panic.

She caught his hand just before he could leave, in a vice grip that under different circumstances she would not use, but it drew his attention back to her, his eyes blazing with purpose and certainty.

“Let go of me.” He said with strange calm.

“No.” She said, “I won’t let you do this.”

“That’s not up to you!”

“Like hell it isn’t!” She argued, “I won’t have you knocking on death’s door yet again out of some infuriating sense of nobility.”

“Satine,” His eyes softened as he focused on her and looked a little more like the boy who effortlessly stole her breath away, “It’s Anakin.”

She knew that. Her stomach curled and coiled at the vile revelation and what it meant for Obi-Wan, who despite not being the main character of this prophetic narrative, was a true hero despite his own self-doubts. And really, she wouldn’t care for him the way she did if he weren’t the type to run into the fire against his better logic for a boy who had always been chosen to him- prophecy be damned.

There was no one else in the room as she contemplated just how dire this moment was and how pitiful it was.

“Please be careful.” She found herself saying in a voice only he could hear.

“I always try to be.” It wasn’t a promise and she noticed that. He would never make a promise he couldn’t keep. Not to her.

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity and her mind raced with a flush of memories and regrets- that in this moment the cold reality was drenching them with how little time they likely had left. It seemed he was processing a similar line of thinking, because his eyes scanned her face as though memorizing every detail. Thousands of unsaid words passed between them, though even then she yearned to hear the real thing.

It was now or never, it seemed.

“At Christmas, I-” His breath hitched, “I- Well, I’ve never…”

He seemed quite infuriated with himself. A crash in the distance caused them both to break their spell and Obi-Wan turned back to her, regret swimming in his eyes as well as a fondness that could no longer be debated.

They didn’t have time.

“I’m sorry,” He raised her hand to his lips, pressing a single firm kiss to her knuckles, “Another time, I hope.”

And she watched him go, memorizing with painstaking clarity the feeling of his hand slipping from hers and out of reach as his perfect silhouette danced down the stairs hurriedly, never looking back. Perhaps, because doing so would make him run back to her. That’s what she told herself again.

Her hand burned as she clutched it tightly. She had a duty to uphold too.

***

Anakin ran, assuming logically that the grand staircases would be where Maul awaited. He seemed to be somewhat interested in being dramatic and Anakin could think of no better place to stage an assault. He’d expected to hear someone following behind him, a professor trying to catch him before he did something so stupid or a friend come to his aid, but neither seemed as crazy as he was to face a threat so great.

The closer to the staircase he grew, the more aurors were laid about, Anakin felt his steps falter as he purposely turned his eyes away. They were fine, they had to be, they were just… taking a nap.

Although even his own heart didn’t take the gentle suggestion at face value.

He saw green light reflecting off the wall up ahead. It gave off an eerie strobe effect that made Anakin hesitate. His wand was still gripped in his hand and he did know a fair few spells he was quite good at, but what did he know about going against someone so powerful? Countless aurors were lying about, clearly not able to take him themselves and it certainly didn’t seem like Maul was in the mood to play with his victims.

The thoughts of his own home kept his feet moving forward. His mother’s bedroom, covered with feathers and his mother, missing, possibly worse and it had to be at the hands of Maul. Who else would be trying to draw him out, but the man who was very clear at wanting him dead this entire year? He repeated over and over and over again the stunning spell in his head as he stepped out into the open area of the staircases.

An auror had just caught the end of a green beam and was falling down. Maul looked almost bored as he watched and didn’t flinch as Anakin did as they hit the ground with a thud. Maul had put forth no effort in his spree, but the thought didn’t deter Anakin from hurtling his own spell while he had the element of surprise.

“Stupify,” He tried to be quiet about it, but his spell still missed the man by a few centimeters. Maul had noticed him much sooner, by the way he just stood there, watching him like a predator would its prey.

“So you have the dignity to fight your own battles,” He flicked his wand and Anakin dodged, jumping onto a staircase as it pivoted past him. Maul stepped casually onto his own and they both spun around each other before their stairs clicked into place. Anakin held his ground, aiming to stay as far away as he could from the man. There were things he wanted answered and he surely didn’t come here to lay down and die.

“I want to know what you did to my mum!” Anakin yelled before sending out another stunning spell and missing narrowly. Maul was still unperturbed by this and stepped onto another staircase.

“What would I care about your mother?” Maul asked with a sneer.

Anakin’s heart leapt, he must be lying, “Y-you took her! I know you did!” He shouted, his wand still clutched tightly in his hand. He sent off a quick chain-cast, aiming to disarm Maul, at least then there wasn’t much damage he could do. Maul reflected it like it was a particularly pesky fly and Anakin’s spell slammed into the wall, showering debris all around them.

“I didn’t take your mother, boy,” Maul sent a spell knocking Anakin’s wand out of his hand and causing it to tumble down the steps. He shrunk back as Maul took each step down to him incredibly slowly, “But once you’ve been erased from this earth,” He grinned, sharp teeth grinding together in a hideous display, “I’ll send her to find you.”

Maul’s wand was moving and in a last-ditch attempt at living, Anakin rushed forward, jumping at Maul and trying to rip his wand out of his hand. Maul growled, a low dangerous sound before shoving Anakin off. Anakin stumbled, but managed not to fall just in time for Maul’s foot to come crashing into his chest, sending him tumbling down the stairs.

He landed hard enough to knock the wind out of his lungs, but in the dust kicked up he managed to locate his wand before Maul could aim again and he sent out another desperate spell.

His heart sank as Maul simply stepped aside to dodge such a thing. This wasn’t how he wanted his life to end. He’d thought he’d be avenging his mother, locating her, being a hero. He was the Chosen One, he thought he could live through anything.

Maul raised his wand.

Anakin thought of his friends who he’d come to love like family. He thought of magic and all he had yet to learn. He thought of his mother, out there somewhere waiting for him.

***

There were bodies upon bodies lining the walls, all aurors, and all dead by Maul, presumably. Obi-Wan didn’t look as he went, not needing the horrifying distraction at the moment. These men and women gave themselves over to protect them and were treated like dominos to be knocked over in a chain reaction, all leading to-

-He came to an abrupt halt from his sprint, brain whirring as it tried to catch up to what his eyes saw to the left on the grand staircase. It was a body, and not just any body, but Anakin, small and limp at the bottom, completely unmoving. And just three flights up, completely shrouded in black save for his fiery face, was Maul.

“Stay away from him!” Obi-Wan shouted, drawing his attention immediately. Time only continued when he noticed Anakin’s chest moving up and down where he lay. All hope was not lost yet.

That was not to say that they were anywhere near out of the woods. The dementors had entered the space, but even this offered Obi-Wan no false hope. In fact, by the way they hovered beside him with a slight green glow surrounding their usual complete blackness, it was like they obeyed Maul somehow, serving the very opposite purpose than what was programmed of them.

Maul’s wand was sleek and smooth and undoubtedly did not belong to him originally. Obi-Wan knew enough about the clearances distributed by the Ministry that it belonged to an officer of some kind. He didn’t want to picture what happened to its original owner. Obi-Wan always struggled with conjuring patronuses, but if there was ever a time to learn, there was nothing like the present. He had to force his hand not to shake as he outstretched it, hoping he didn’t look as young as he felt.

He tried to channel happiness and positivity in a moment like this, in order to create the bright light needed to banish these dementors away, but every time a spark felt as though it might kindle, the gravity of their situation snuffed it out.

Maul said nothing, just as he hadn’t in Hogsmeade, but he did bear a full mouthful of yellow-stained teeth that matched the glowing eyes that appeared hollowed out in his skull. There was only hate and suffering behind those eyes, never a day of love or care. If Anakin’s life weren’t on the line, Obi-Wan might have felt sorry for him.

He knew the moment he made a move for the boy, Maul would only charge, but they couldn’t remain in this uneven standoff forever. Literally, they could not, because the stairs would not hold still for anyone, not even for the theatrics of a bloody lunatic. So, while it felt like a longshot, it also seemed like his only shot.

Obi-Wan took the leap, dashing to the end of the stairs, tumbling and grabbing Anakin on the way, just as the stairs moved and swiftly knocked them at an alarming velocity towards another shifting staircase. As predicted, when he moved, Maul moved, but not fast enough and stumbled as the stairs shifted, toppling over a railing in the process.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin sat up and rubbed his head.

He quickly inspected the boy, satisfied that there was no blood, but there would definitely be a large bump on his head from whatever fall he’d taken. They didn’t have time to dilly dally. They had to go. He grabbed Anakin by the hand and pulled him the rest of the way down the stairs to the ground level, flickering his eyes up to notice the dementors closing in on them like nightfall.

For a brief moment, as the dementor positioned itself ready, Obi-Wan saw the future of Hogwarts as it was to be should Maul truly claim the school. He saw destruction, fire, betrayal, hate. He saw so much hate in the form of enraged yellow eyes. He couldn’t seem to feel his hands or his feet as the tunnel of darkness closed in on him. There was no life, there was no hope, there was no purpose.

All he wanted was for it to be over… Just put him out of his misery.

Why hadn’t Maul claimed them yet?

He saw his friends suffering at his failure. He saw the school itself burning to the ground. Cody was on the ground of the castle, a fiery hole in his chest that hadn’t cooled, unmoving and unblinking. Satine was surely next as she sobbed alongside him. Everything was painted in gray.

In the reflection of the green aura that tainted the dementors’ ragged cloaks, he met Anakin’s equally disillusioned gaze. That spark that refused to ignite earlier dragged like flint on steel and rubbed rapidly, starting to warm him up and remind him not of the bright spots of life, but of what he’d come here to do.

Positioning himself in front of Anakin, Obi-Wan yelled, “Expecto Patronum!”

Only an azure burst of light did not come from the tip of his wand, but somewhere above the dementors, taking the form of a beautiful blue and florid owl before circling and encompassing the dark phantoms with a blinding light. In the process, it knocked Maul backwards up a staircase and bolting forwards towards the person responsible.

He knew that patronus.

“Qui-Gon!” Anakin pointed up even further, where Obi-Wan’s mentor had thoroughly derailed Maul’s plans of following them by engaging in a violent trade of green and red bouts of magic back and forth, dancing along the stairs rhythmically, away from them, as though they were partners in an arranged production. Glass windows shattered and more dementors joined the game, never once standing a chance for Qui-Gon Jinn, though Maul proved himself quite the martial artist.

“We’ve got to help him!” Anakin began to move, which stalled Obi-Wan from his shocked reverie and he grabbed the boy by the collar of his shirt and yanked him back.

“No, you’ve got to get to safety!” Obi-Wan said and held him close to his face, “You are in no shape to be fighting a Sith lord.”

“Neither is he!” Anakin pointed out the obvious, which was that Maul’s aggressively acrobatic fighting style was only going to wear Qui-Gon out should they continue to edge towards a dead end. Qui-Gon would have very little room to maneuver and parry should they corner themselves in a tower or a narrow walkway. “And neither are you.”

“I have to help him.” Obi-Wan said, “It’s the only way.”

He couldn’t explain it too, because it just felt like he needed to push forward. The logical thing to do would be to run back to Ravenclaw tower with Anakin in tow and reunite with his friends in safety, but he was drawn to the fight and not for any sense of bloodlust, but refined purpose.

“I won’t let you!” Anakin cried, “It’s my fault!”

“Like hell it is!” Obi-Wan chastised and shoved him forward, “You are in control of your own actions, not Maul’s. The only action you should be doing is getting the hell out of here.”

“But-”

“No but’s, Anakin! If you never listen to me again, listen to me now: run. Hide. Get help, whatever, but you stay as far away as your little legs can carry you, alright? You are the future of tomorrow. This is only today.”

It wasn’t what he promised Qui-Gon, but if Anakin was away from Maul, he was safe, so if Obi-Wan could help delay that, he would.

“Where?”

“Exactly where you need to be,” He said.

“I can never get those stupid riddles!”

“Trust me, you will.” Obi-Wan said. “Just run.”

“And what about you?”

“I’m right behind you,” Though as they stared at each other, they both knew it was a lie. With tears staining his cheeks, Anakin nodded and ran in the opposite direction. Obi-Wan watched him until he was far enough away before turning and racing back up the steps again. Just as he did, they began moving, knocking Obi-Wan around rather roughly and almost backwards again, but he kept running and even dove forward to catch the next staircase by the hand.

For a moment, he was suspended above by only one hand, forcing himself to use all the strength in his body to lift himself and keep climbing.

Qui-Gon and Maul kept moving, the sound of glass shattering in their wake.

***

Against every fiber of his being that told him to stay and fight, Anakin ran. He aggressively swiped tears from his eyes with his arm as he did so, trying to keep his vision as clear as possible. He didn’t know where to go or what to do. Gryffindor’s common room was the other way and he would never understand the Ravenclaw riddle to get in.

Obi-Wan had only told him to go, but not where, though he’d looked at him with conviction as though he had given him a clue. Anakin was far too distressed to think of any clues. Fear swelled in him, as he considered what his two mentors were sacrificing in order to protect him, to protect the future. They believed in him, but he didn’t quite believe in himself at the moment. Maul was going to tear through this entire school and if there was one thing that was proven, it was just how inescapable that was.

He was supposed to be a hero, but he was trying to escape. It had always been the plan, but he’d never expected to have to do so alone. He was supposed to save them all, but he’d learned the hard way that he was no match for Maul.

His feet rapidly hit the ground, never once breaking stride as he tred onward. There was only so far he could go before he ended up right back where they were. He needed a place where no one would find him. He needed a safe haven.

But between the Zillo Beast, Dooku, and now Maul, he’d learned that there was no real sense of security in this wizarding world. It was fantastic in both the best and worst ways possible, with no room for the mundane quiet of peace. Anakin never typically cared when it didn’t involve a sadist breaking in and trying to murder him.

As he rounded a particularly sharp corner and briefly considered hiding in an empty classroom under a desk or in a chest, his eyes went round as he noticed not one, not two, but three dementors lingering near the dungeons. Slytherin’s common room was nearby, but they’d never let him in.

“Skywalker, what the hell are you doing?” Windu dropped in from seemingly nowhere, banishing the now mob of dementors that were swirling around them like a tornado.

“They’re everywhere!” He yelled.

“How did this happen?” Windu asked.

“Maul turned them against everyone! I don’t know how!”

Windu grimaced as they closed in on them and kept Anakin close as he flipped his cape to the side and valiantly pointed his wand with the lethal confidence of someone who had done it many times before. From Windu’s wand, a glowing blue ram burst through the wall of spinning black to create a pocket just big enough for Anakin.

“Run!” He shouted and once again, Anakin obeyed.

He needed to make sure he paid attention if he got to live to see the day patronuses were taught in school. Clearly, it was going to be an important lesson and one that Obi-Wan didn’t quite grasp yet.

Other professors were on the front lines of this massive fight against dementors whether inside or outside. Anakin leapt around one that was trying to suck the face off of Professor Ki-Adi Mundi, but was immediately banished by the vigilant Professor Shaak Ti. He never received more encouragement to keep pushing forward and away than he did in that moment.

Who would help Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan? Who would save them if all of the other professors were trying to handle the immediate threat of the dementors turning on them? His heart started to rattle as he kept going, approaching a dead end and slinking against the wall. The dementors came quicker than he anticipated even possible. Their long and bony fingers reached for him, ready to pull him into his own worst nightmares imaginable and to make them living realities. He’d snuck many horror movies in his time, but he’d never seen anything worse than them.

Where was it written that the Chosen One would need a soul to save the universe? Nowhere, it would seem, because this didn’t qualify as death, but a fate worse than. He pointed his wand out, hoping he could also learn the patronus charm on the fly, but felt the immediate disconnect between his words and his wand. They were just words in the end.

He pressed himself against the door, never wishing more than to be anywhere but here. He wished he could have found where Obi-Wan was referring. He needed it. He needed that refuge if he was going to be brave and if he was going to fight back one day.

He needed- To open his eyes?

Because once he did so, he realized that he was in a completely different room that he’d never seen before. It wasn’t empty, exactly. There were old books stacked on some rickety tables. Cobwebs lined the portraits on the walls that chatted amongst themselves. They stopped dead in the middle of conversation when they spotted Anakin.

“Er- Sorry for interrupting.” He said with a wave.

“Who the blazes are you?” The dusty portrait of a man with dark hair and light brown skin frowned deeply at Anakin.

“Don’t be rude, Master Ketu.” The hooded man in the portrait opposite to him nodded at Anakin, “Congratulations.”

“Do you even know what’s going on out there? There’s nothing to be congratulated for,” He said.

“Boy, have you no concept of what you have uncovered?” The man called Ketu pressed, his arms crossed over the numerous medals of honor that hung from his neck.

Anakin looked around him, “Uh… A dirty old classroom?”

He pinched his nose, “I swear, these children grow more ungrateful by the years.”

“To be fair, we haven’t seen a new child in over a century.” The other man said placatingly, “And there’s no way he can be worse than him. I am Ters Sendon, archivist and historian and this is Master Ketu, former leader of the old Je’daii order.”

“Je’Daii?”

“He hasn’t even heard of us.” Scoffed Ketu.

“An old group of warrior wizards who used to combat the ancient Sith during the old wars.” Ters said and Anakin gasped when he lifted off his hood to reveal horns protruding from his head just as Maul’s did. “What is it?”

“You’re… You’re like him!” Anakin backed away, nearly stumbling over a stray chair as he did, “You’re like the Sith lord that’s currently taking over our school!”

“I’m no Sith!” He protested.

“You look like him?”

“So? Sith is not a race, it’s a religion.” Ters said, “There are good people that look like me and plenty of bad people that look like you.”

Anakin considered that and realized as he looked at Ters Sendon that he didn’t bear any of the malicious traits that Maul had. There was no hate radiating off of his gaze, no yellow or orange to his eyes, no hostility in his voice. He didn’t even really look like Maul aside from the horns. As opposed to a stark red and black patterned face, Ters was more the color of leather, with beige swirls around his eyes and nose.

Ketu, not nearly as bored as he was before, stroked his black goatee, “You mean, the Sith have returned?”

“I’m supposed to defeat them someday.” Anakin said, “I’m the Chosen One. Or at least… I’m supposed to be, but I’m hiding…”

“Well, you’re much too young to fight a Sith, my boy.” Ketu said.

“Everyone’s been saying that and I know that, but how can I let other people take the fall for me?”

“Take it from someone who has seen plenty of golden haired heroes that were supposed to be chosen for greatness, you must accept that they are not fighting for you.”

“Ketu! How is that helpful?” Ters asked.

“Because it removes the pressure that comes with the position. Everyone has their place in this war, but you… You must survive. You must survive so that many others can live.” He fixed Anakin with a stern look, “That is why the Room summoned you.”

“The room?” Anakin looked around, “This place is special?”

“The Room of Requirement manifests itself only to students who truly need it.” Ters explained, “In your case, it’s to hide from this dastardly foe that breached your school.”

“If only I were alive… I’d bring this Sith to his knees.” Ketu sighed wistfully.

“I can’t just sit in here and wait!” Anakin yelped, his voice echoing around the room.

“Clearly, whatever you were running from had outnumbered you. You were whiter than a ghost.” Ters said, “And I’ve seen many ghosts.”

“Ghosts can come in here?”

“Not here, no.” Ketu shook his head, “We are the only portraits in the school that cannot move, but in our time, there were ghosts too.”

“Why can’t you move?”

“We must protect the integrity of the room,” Ters explained, “And a good thing too, because the last boy would have destroyed the place to prevent anyone else from finding it.”

“The magical enchantments were too powerful for him then, thankfully,” Ketu whistled, “I wonder where he got off to…”

“We need to get more people in here, to protect them!” Anakin said. “How can I let others follow me?”

“I think they may be safer where they are.”

Anakin wasn’t so sure.

***

Qui-Gon had but one clear goal when parrying and deflecting the onslaught of fast green bolts that erupted from Maul’s wand: get him out of the castle. Hopefully, from there, other professors stronger than he could prevent him from entering again. Qui-Gon was no fighter by nature. It took a great deal of strength and focus and connectivity with his inner peace to remain in line with Maul’s attacks. He was definitely no one’s first choice in fighting off a man who murdered countless aurors in his wake.

However, the moment he saw Maul and his possessed dementors hovering over Obi-Wan and Anakin, he knew that this would be his fight after all.

He’d never faced anything like this in his life- growing up in a time of peace was like the beautiful summer and late fall that preambled a harsh winter. Well, the ruthless attempts at his head led by the tenacious Sith was more of enough proof that winter had arrived with the full impact of a blizzard at their heels.

Qui-Gon tried to analyze and predict the Zabrak’s next attack, hoping that his strategic capabilities would balance him against the superior fighting style that was the combination of martial artistry and power. There was much hate that spewed from every fiber of Maul’s being, so personal that Qui-Gon almost took it as such. It was like every person who stood in his way somehow became Maul’s target enemy and it was obvious he wasn’t used to anyone lasting this long.

Well, Qui-Gon did have the high ground when he snuck up on Maul and took him off guard, effectively clipping the wings that the dementors brought him. He wouldn’t even begin to question how he’d did it, save for that it was obviously an ancient magic known to the Sith. As they crossed the archway to the empty Great Hall, veering away from the direction of the student dormitories to Qui-Gon’s relief, and Maul was allotted true space to spew knives and broken shards of glassware towards him at once, Qui-Gon realized why this man hid all year.

He did not hide to feel out their positioning or to even tease them. Any of that had only been a cherry on top for the malignant evil before him. No, Maul waited it out to grow, to improve his strengths, to ready himself for this fight, because regardless of the ease at which he slipped through their clenched fists, he still expected a grave one.

“Protego!” Qui-Gon shouted numerous times in numerous directions, shielding himself from every blow Maul flung at him, but dodging an incoming killing curse as well.

That was going to leave a mark on the walls.

The candles came crashing down, bathing the entire room in a gray hollowness that he wasn’t used to, but didn’t ponder. It was only fitting that a Sith was trying to take everything good about this place with him. Well, he wouldn’t have it, not on his watch, anyway.

Their beams collided, his disarming and Maul’s for the kill, creating the collaboration of blinding green and red at the middle. It resembled a golden snitch at the heart of the contact, but despite having dueled Dooku just last year, Qui-Gon felt his arm, and eventually his whole body by extension, growing weak. Dooku had been going easy on him and he knew it. Maul would do no such thing.

Maul tapped further into his heat, bearing a tight grin as he pushed harder, showing just what the dark side could do, but Qui-Gon did not and would not envy his pain or his suffering that led him to such darkness.

“You were just a child, did you even get to choose?” Qui-Gon asked, trying to possibly tap into any shred of humanity left within the empty cavern that took place of Maul’s soul. That included, bringing up a history Maul did not want to remember.

“You don’t know me.” It only emboldened his opponent’s attack, making the push and pull of their tug of war look a great deal more green than red.

“Perhaps, I do. We were students here once, right? At the same time even.”

Maul remained silent and focused. He would not monologue for Qui-Gon. It seemed he was the sort of foe not worth quarreling with.

“Give me the boy.” Was all he said.

“I cannot do that.” Qui-Gon shook his head.

“Then you will die.” He smiled.

Sweat gathered at his temples as he pushed harder, channeling the peace that existed in harmony at his core, willing the spark to burn brighter than it ever had. If not ever again, now would be the moment.

It was not looking good.

Until, an unprecedented blast of blue sent Maul skidding across the table, sliding into every stray glass and plate that had been left in shambles on the way. He was up and charging within a matter of seconds, which was remarkable on its own right, but this also meant that Qui-Gon didn’t have much of a second to breathe or consider that the wizard that entered the room was not a colleague or auror, but Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“Obi-Wan!” He shouted and moved to jump in front of him to be a last standing shield from Maul, as if that would do anything, but the boy was quick and immediately took to pursuing Maul with his own attacks.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He said.

“But I am, and we can talk about this later, no?” Obi-Wan gritted as Maul whipped out a second wand from his utility belt and let his robe drift to the ground. It seemed he came prepared for this very situation. It was a very unfortunate way to learn Maul was ambidextrous as he was just as proficient with his left hand as he was his right and was able to perform the same spell from two wands.

“We definitely will.” Qui-Gon fired back, but had to concede that the very last thing they needed to be doing to get out of here was arguing with each other. Not to mention, a very small part of him couldn’t help but be proud of Obi-Wan’s prowess for being so young.

He’d never seen him like this before- so sure of himself and so determined, as well as so underdressed. His robe and jumper were completely discarded somewhere along his way here and the sleeves of his collared shirt had been pushed up. While still wearing the tie that symbolized his house with pride, he suddenly looked much older than the boy he knew.

Even more than that, he successfully and quickly reflected Maul’s own curse back on him, sending the Sith dizzily stumbling around, though never once losing speed.

With Obi-Wan at his side, he was able to take Maul on at a more even level, even with the two wands. He and his mentee practiced in sync together. They’d never formally fought alongside each other, but where Qui-Gon moved, Obi-Wan moved, and the two took to dejecting each and every distant move displayed by Maul.

That was not to say it was easy, of course. Between the physicality and ferocity of Maul’s magical and non-magical aggression, it was still throwing the both of them through the ringer. Obi-Wan’s face was red, but laser focused and never relieved with pride if he managed to land some sort of attack.

They left out the doorway they came and through the third floor corridor, only further exhausting themselves the smaller the quarters became. Maul began to literally bounce off the walls, running up them and doing backflips to dodge and alternatively, to gain traction. As his history showed, he wasn’t purely invested in the magical portion of a fight, but the physical combat as well.

Up the stairs they went to the very top, a difficult task when Maul decided to turn the steps into slippery goo in his wake and fire on the railings. Qui-Gon had learned the latter of that sequence on his own the hard way. Obi-Wan charged ahead, more athletic than he gave himself credit for, and twice as brave. It was a lethal combination, though not one Qui-Gon would fool himself into believing would be enough to seizing Maul completely. They needed to distract him until Windu found them.

They needed help.

Maul was quite pressed when Obi-Wan managed a leg-locker spell on him, though it was only one leg by his aim. It wasn’t his fault, since Qui-Gon had to shove him aside to avoid wand arrows that came straight for his head.

Even still, there was no doubt that they were fighting better together.

The ceiling of the pointed tower crumbled, specs of dust and later actual pieces of infrastructure raining down on them and hurrying their pace. When reaching the small bridge that connected the two towers, Maul blasted the center as he ran ahead.

“Where’s he going?”

“The classrooms, it seems.” Qui-Gon answered as he tried to catch his breath. “Anakin-”

“-Is safe.” He said with resounding certainty, his blue eyes sharper than glass as he regarded him with shoulders back and his jaw squared. He was still shorter than Qui-Gon, but it was evident now more than ever that he was a child no longer. Yes, Obi-Wan was ready. Or was it that he had no choice but to be ready?

It pained Qui-Gon’s very soul, because children fighting the battles of adults never soothed him. They leapt over the chasm and through the already crumbling tower that dwindled all the way down, catching Maul at his heels after a few flights of rapidly following suit. He was either leading them to the belly of his trap or he was trying to shake them. Qui-Gon didn’t know how that spoke for their success as his opponents, but was willing to take any wins offered to them.

They were far from finished in their pursuit, as the tower began to physically shake back and forth. Taking this battle to heart, or whatever stood in place of it, Maul turned, charging up the stairs with a sword at hand pointed straight at them.

On instinct rather than through thought, Qui-Gon pushed Obi-Wan hard against the side of the wall, narrowly preventing him from meeting the tip of the blade.

“Stupefy!” He yelled, but missed and Maul went for the younger man again, a tight smile on his lips as he flipped forwards against the current of gravity and spun the sword straight towards them. Obi-Wan, who was stronger than he looked, caught Maul’s wrist before the finality of the attack could be completed. Using his entire body weight, he flung them down, doing his own half-assed little stunt to avoid being stabbed.

Qui-Gon seized his moment to attack, turning the coat of arms by the doorway onto Maul, giving them three fighters on their side. This didn’t stop Maul, who only seemed delighted by the challenge and swung at the ground to encourage it.

Obi-Wan scrambled off the ground in time and trotted alongside Qui-Gon as the knight moved forward and Maul backed himself up to the wall of the rounded tower, clashing his sword with the knight’s, meeting every swing with one of his own caliber. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, meanwhile, tried to use this brief moment of distraction to their advantage and fired whatever spells could come to their mind.

Obi-Wan had gotten even more creative and used a tongue fattening spell, likely trying to limit his airway.

It didn’t seem he even minded the limited mobility, though it only seemed to anger him that he was wasting his time. Maul had the advantage, being alive, but the knight had nothing to lose. Sometimes, that wasn’t a strength.

In a fit of unbridled rage, which was the only way either Qui-Gon or Obi-Wan could describe what transpired next, lightning rang through the sword and Maul leapt into the air, bringing the blade straight through the empty head of the knight and using the momentum of this force to fling the still sparking helmet towards them, hitting Obi-Wan directly in the stomach and sending him flipping over the railing with the added help of Maul diving forward to punch him square in the face.

“Immobulus!” Qui-Gon hollered, pointing his wand at Obi-Wan’s collapsing body just before he could hit the bottom stone at full-force. He was knocked out, nothing more, or maybe that’s what Qui-Gon needed to convince himself to continue edging through this battle.

The sword came down, achieving not a speck of flesh, but slicing Qui-Gon’s wand clean in two against the marble railing to their right. It was the closest he’d ever been to Maul and he understood why few wanted to approach him. He could feel the turmoil within this shell of a man, who was only driven by his own hate. He was like a walking timebomb who was expected to walk the earth like a person.

“When I’m done with you, I’ll kill the kid too,” Only he wasn’t referring to Anakin, but Obi-Wan.

“You won’t have the chance,” Qui-Gon said and kicked up his foot to toss the former knight’s sword into own hand. He was taught to wield by Count Dooku long ago, adopting many different tactics. It had always been in a gentlemanly fashion before, but Maul knew no such artistry or decency in this field. He was a predator and while he may have been playing with his food, he would still want nothing more than to collect the prize.

They backed out of the exit, Qui-Gon pursuing Maul as their blades clinked and clanked at rapid speed, each performing offensively without any pauses or breaks. Qui-Gon took his first success as they approached the classrooms and he managed to knock one of Maul’s wands free and clattering onto the ground. The Sith swordsman paid no mind, flipping backwards and inviting Qui-Gon to chase him into yet another trapped space.

He knew he was better where he could be afforded more breathing room, but at the moment, this was not a battle where Qui-Gon dictated the rules. Rarely, did the heroes get to do much of that in history. It was all about adaptivity and believing in oneself and the magic that lay within them.

“I am one with magic and the magic is within me.” He chanted on a harmonic loop inside his head, ignoring every fiber of his being that broke apart as they crashed through Professor Palpatine’s office of all places.

Perhaps, he was trying to pay a visit to his favorite professor. He looked disappointed even through the mask of focused disdain that he wasn’t present. He would never have known that Anakin might have been hiding here, after all. He lingered around the castle for a little while, but not long enough to see the students interact.

Thinking a bit like his enemy, Qui-Gon seized the weakness, going in for an elongated stalemate of the inner strengths, bringing them up close and personal.

“Who do you work for?” He asked calmly.

He knew that nothing splintered more than serenity or moreover, when their dastardly deeds took no effect on their desired target. Predictably, Maul clenched his yellow teeth to bare.

“I work for no one.” He scowled and shoved them apart, spinning and beginning a new onslaught of attacks that Qui-Gon met and dodged. The dodged shots ended up as holes that would need to be patched later and each designated attack seemed to chip away at him more and more.

Maul might have possessed an eternal source of energy from the cruelty at his very core, but he did not envy him for it.

They shuffled onto the external viaduct, which stretched back to the courtyard outside the Great Hall again, back towards the common rooms. He couldn’t let that happen. Qui-Gon knew that this was it. This long stretch of smooth stone that expanded over the chasm beneath them, was where this needed to end.

As if reading his mind, Maul closed in on him, making Qui-Gon overshoot a swing and nearly set himself off balance. Maul’s sword came down hard on the stone balustrade to their side, cracking it with the power and magical tenacity it contained, before retracting and kicking Qui-Gon in the sternum.

He rolled, backwards, and landed on his feet just in time to collide blades harshly, feeling like the swords might break if they strike again. This didn’t stop either of them and Qui-Gon desperately tried to seek out a window to take the advantage. And then, he found it. Maul’s gloved finger twitched just as he was reaching for his other wand- a dirty trick in a match of the blades, but Dooku might have done the same in his modern state.

Luckily, Qui-Gon didn’t necessarily need a wand.

He snatched the wand from midair by the sheer willpower of doing so.

“Petrificus Totalus!” And while Maul leapt to the ground, his frame stilled in the air as he caught the end of the charm, hitting the ground hard with his sword stuck frozen in hand.

He let out a heavy breath of relief. He pointed the wand at Maul and tossed the blade to the side and knelt over him. Only the man’s face could move, so he didn’t grow too close at risk of literally being bitten, but Qui-Gon looked at him sternly.

“What business do you have with the boy?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Maul chuckled lightly, “To destroy him.”

“But for what? Because he’s a threat to you?”

“No,” He would have shaken his head if he could, “Because he’s a threat to all of us.”

Qui-Gon frowned, “That- No, he will bring about an end to monsters like yourself and whatever master you refuse to name.”

“Don’t you see?” Maul said, “He is the monster.”

The words trickled through Qui-Gon’s ears like rain hitting the hard sidewalk. That couldn’t be true. He was to bring balance. Though, it was never exactly said how. It couldn’t be. The prophecy spoke of a united world and for the hero, which was Anakin, to prevail at great sacrifice.

Or at least, that’s how he interpreted it after much studying.

“That cannot be.”

“It has been written in fate. I have seen it,” And by the legitimate fear that plagued Maul’s gaze, he could tell the Sith was not lying about having been exposed to a plethora of horror, “He is but the pawn in a greater plan. Just like you and just like me.”

“He’s so much more than either of us,” Qui-Gon shook his head, keeping the wand steady at his throat, poking the skin ever so slightly. “Especially you.”

“I am merely trying to save us all,” Maul begged, “Just as you think you are. We are not that different. Skywalker isn’t either.”

“Anakin is the hero of this story, not you.” Qui-Gon said, determined now, “I will see to that.”

“No,” And just as quick as he fell, he moved too fast for Qui-Gon to even blink and the sword that had seemed frozen in time was thrust right into the pit of Qui-Gon’s stomach. Immeasurable pain soaked through him as he felt blood from all over rush through him and a varying list of parables cross his mind.

Maul brought him so close that their noses touched, “You won’t.”

He unsheathed the sword from the pit of Qui-Gon’s stomach and let him fall backwards, hitting the stone unceremoniously as sound seemed to fall behind in slow, deep motions. The blood rushed from his body and breathing suddenly became labored beyond measure. He was faced with warm sunlight, though he found himself only growing colder by the second. Slowly, the bright blue around the high sun was becoming a tunnel and getting fuzzier. The pain in his stomach was less aching as it was dull and detached from him. He saw stars and galaxies and far more than the human eyes could see.

He saw blackness that occluded the stars and realized strangely that it was a man in a dark cape. This was Vader, he knew somehow, but he couldn’t quite explain why. But there was more and as he looked into the stars that gathered in the eyes of his helmet, he saw the fates for what they were. There was so much loss in this montage of multiple realities that spawned in front of him. There was agony, hate, betrayal, death. So so much death beyond his own.

It was strange, to realize that he was dying and to not really care about the logistics of that. Instead, he cared for what he saw next: happiness, love, family, weddings, babies, revolution against an unjust cause, rebirth.

He saw the back of a man with white hair and a beard to match and while his heart initially spoke to him of his mentor, he found that the eyes that turned to meet him matched another that would grow to be wiser than them all.

He saw the good in the blond boy that everyone else feared. He saw the duality of the young brunette who was capable of far more than her small stature dictated. He saw friends he did and didn’t know. He saw them all come together and he saw them win. It was an imperfect future, full of not one, but many heroes.

Some that were chosen ones merely by their own volition. That fact settled hard and heavy. There was still much obscurity to meet the hope. Nothing, even at these far reaches of the universe, was written in stone. If there was one thing that was clear: Anakin was the key.

And in a flash he was back for a moment, given one last breath of life and to meet the tear stained eyes of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He failed. But there was still hope.

***

“NO!” His cry was anguished and angry, his vision red like the blood dripping off the blade. He had already been running, hurrying to catch up with his mentor, not willing to leave him alone with that monster for more than a second longer than necessary.

He clearly hadn’t been fast enough.

He sprinted, faster still, wand automatically raised and flourished. A crack was heard as red light burst from his own wand and slammed into Maul, knocking him back a few feet and causing his sword to fly from his hand and over the bridge. He hadn’t even uttered the words, but his wand seemed to read his mind, connect with him and in this brief moment of connection, he hurtled as many spells as he could think of.

It was a dance of light. Maul had managed to pull his own wand out and was doing a fair job at blocking each colorful strike, but had yet to get an opening to counter. Obi-Wan tossed another stupify at Maul and it hit his protective spell so hard sparks flew.

“You’re too late,” Maul kicked a loose stone towards him, managing to distract him long enough that Maul could send a killing curse his way. He just managed to block it, the green spell falling apart just inches from his face. He staggered backwards nearly falling over the edge before launching another volley of attacks.

“I won’t let you hurt him,” Obi-Wan growled, although the pang in his chest reminded him of what he’d seen, what he hadn’t been fast enough to stop. He cast a smoke spell causing them both to be hidden within a dark cloud. Obi-Wan crept silently to the side, the only real chance he had was to catch Maul off guard. Just a few more steps-

A gust of wind kicked up from the center of the cloud blowing away the smoke screen and revealing an almost smug looking Maul. He grinned wildly, his yellow eyes gleaming like a tiger going for the kill.

Obi-Wan just managed to dodge as the spell Maul hurled blew a hole through the already crumbling parapet. He returned the favor with another stunning charm that did little more than knock Maul off balance.

Obi-Wan, however, took the opportunity rushing forwards a curse on the tip of his tongue before Maul fell backwards slamming a foot into Obi-Wan and kicking him back.

He stumbled to regain balance, but his foot slipped and time slowed as he desperately clawed for the edge of the bridge with his free hand. He swung there precariously, heart beating a mile a minute as he tried to think of something, anything. Maul grunted, he could only assume he was standing up again, making his way slowly towards what was surely Obi-Wan’s doom.

He looked to his wand, he couldn’t risk a spell, if he missed and hit the viaduct, he would surely be falling to his death. If he didn’t… Well he didn’t want to think of the terrible fate that would bring him. He swung his arm up, hand still gripping his wand, but allowing for him to pull himself up just high enough to see. Maul was approaching, wand twitching as he surely thought through every nasty spell he had at his disposal.

The dying sun came out from behind the clouds, reflecting its light off of something silver on the edge. A sudden burst of hope filled him as he whispered a series of spells that he hoped Maul took as nothing more than him praying for salvation.

Maul didn’t pause.

Obi-Wan dropped hold of the ledge flicking his wand upwards in order to soar up through the air landing behind Maul, just steady enough he was able to catch the silver sword, sapphires glittered across the bottom, a sight to behold if he weren’t busy lunging with it.

Maul had turned just in time to watch as Obi-Wan used every bit of strength, every bit of magic left in his body to bring the sword clear through his middle. The sadist had the decency to look surprised, shocked that he could be foiled by a scrawny 17 year old when so many had tried and failed before. Obi-Wan brought up his foot and kicked, returning the favor of pushing the Zabrak off the viaduct, he didn’t bother watching him fall.

The clatter of the sword falling out of Obi-Wan’s hand and onto the stone brought him out of his adrenaline induced daze and he turned his head almost robotically to where Qui-Gon still lay. He was breathing, but barely, each breath looked laborious even from afar.

“Qui-Gon!” One moment he was standing over where he committed a high wizarding crime and another he was on his knees next to his mentor. He ripped off his top layer and pressed over the wound desperately trying to stop the bleeding even though he could feel that his trousers were already being soaked through.

“No, no,” Qui-Gon batted his hands away, but it only gave Obi-Wan the determination to press harder.

“It’ll be alright, you’ll be fine,” Obi-Wan repeated to himself as he focused on the task at hand. A shaky hand caught his wrist and he tore his eyes away from the gore and met Qui-Gon’s deep blue eyes. Eyes normally filled with mystery and whimsy were focused just enough to quelm his fast-racing thoughts.

“Obi-Wan,” He pleaded, “Anakin-”

“Anakin’s fine!” Obi-Wan shook his head angrily, “I already told you he’s-”

“I need you to see that Anakin gets his training,” Qui-Gon grasped for his attention again and he gave it though he struggled too, “Anakin must become a wizard, he is the chosen one,” Qui-Gon spoke the words with a strong conviction as if he had been born with this knowledge and hadn’t found out along with the rest of them last year.

“Yes, sure, but Qui-Gon-” Obi-Wan tried, but froze when Qui-Gon struggled for a breath.

“Promise me Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon managed to pant, “Promise me you’ll see to it.”

“I promise,” He answered, they looked into each other’s eyes for a beat more before Obi-Wan returned to his task, wishing quite desperately that he’d gone with Satine to those first aid classes instead of the dueling club, “But don’t worry about that now, I-”

Qui-Gon’s breathing ceased.

There were no other sounds. He couldn’t hear the birds in the sky or the breeze through the trees; it was only silence. He felt his mouth form words, but couldn’t hear them. He moved his hands from Qui-Gon’s middle towards his shoulders shaking him once, twice, three times. He felt tears trailing down his face and he tried to wipe them away, likely just smearing his own face with the blood of both that murderer and of Qui-Gon. Merging the two of their beings together like they were twisted up into some horrifying cycle of fate. He pressed his head, body trembling, to Qui-Gon’s chest, praying to hear even an unsteady heartbeat.

All he could hear was silence.

He stayed there, unable to move and hardly unable to breathe at Qui-Gon’s side, sitting vigil for his mentor, his most trusted ally, the wisest man he knew. Eventually the bubble was bound to break and if it wasn’t Qui-Gon growing cold under him it was the hand that fell on his shoulder.

He flinched, whipping to the side prepared to fight another enemy, but his hands fell at the guarded look of Windu’s eyes. The professor tried to pull him away, but he broke out of his grasp with more strength than he’d thought he had left.

“Where’s Maul?” Windu crouched beside him, gently pressing Qui-Gon’s eyes shut. Obi-Wan couldn’t find it in himself to speak and he shook his head to try and convey that, but Windu just grabbed his shoulders and looked him straight in the eye, “I need to know if he’s still around.”

“I ki-” He tried, voice croaky and ruined in his silence, “He’s gone. Dead.”

Professor Windu said nothing, just placed a hand on his back for a moment more before standing. He swished his wand, brilliant red and gold sparks bursting out and filling the night sky, announcing to all that they were finally safe. However, after the display of colors he did not lower his wand and instead kept it raised, the tip glowing softly in the night’s sky.

Professor Plo Koon was the next to join them, his eyes sad and mournful under the light of their two wands. Then one by one the professors arrived, each taking in the scene and lighting their wands in silence. Obi-Wan felt much too numb sitting there on his own, magic exhausted from the fight, to locate his own wand much less light it in honor. Qui-Gon had never been much for ceremonies anyways, but the thought brought him no comfort.

The unspoken vigil ended as Headmaster Palpatine lowered his own wand, followed by Professor Windu. Obi-Wan was stood up by the latter, this time he found no fight left in him, and escorted towards the castle. He kept an eye on Qui-Gon’s body for as long as he could, but surrounded by the Headmaster and various professors it was impossible to see long before he crossed the threshold into the school.

#anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #obitine #anidala #the clone wars #tcw #star wars #magical forces au #hpau

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the-lady-of-the-rings · 4 years

Text

X-Men Au

Geralt is smth like Beast and when he wants (or when he is angry, mostly the latter) he transformed in his potion-induced-condition (is that even right?)

but after fucking up too many times and killing too many people in the process, he decides to shut down that part of himself

However he still is a highly trained soldier, weapon and martial-arts expert and is capable of speaking fluently more than 8 languages

He's part of a group, led by Mystique, dedicated to save all the mutants, oppressed and abused, and get them out of places where they are overexploited.

That's how he meets jaskier

Jaskier is a type of empathy, with well, empathic powers; smth like Mantis from guardian of the galaxy, except that he can fully control other people's feelings and emotions

When Geralt finds him he is working at a brothel, as a sex slave. Well a slave in general. Chained up he made the client's feel exactly what they wanted, and then let them do whatever they wanted, call him whatever they wanted and make him do whatever they wanted. As long as they paid, of course. Once the night finished, he had to do exactly the same for the boss, just without the paying. From whatever sexual activity he could come up to, to making him coffee or a feet massage.

5 days later he is still in bed, at Xavier's school, unable to talk, recovering form all the malnutrition and bruises. He flinches at everything and only is comfortable in the presence of some women. Horrible nightmares wake him up at god know what hour of the night screaming.

5 months later he's recovering from his trauma, he's warmed up to everyone at school and little by little he is starting to use his powers again. Nightmares haven't stopped. Geralt is one of the few who still keeps the distances.

Jaskier tries to talk to him, but geralt's heighten senses (do you say it like at? God i urgently need a beta 😪) confirms the obvious, jaskier’s still low-key afraid of him

What geralt doesn’t know is that he also high-key admires him, it isn’t lust, yet, it’s too early for that, but he admires his strength and how he has helped so many people

One night the school’s under attack, some mentally unstable mutant that after discovering what hid that peculiar school decides to pay a visit

Jaskier and geralt both rush out of their rooms and find eachother, the latter orders jaskier to take the kids to a safe place, and quickly shuts the empathic up when he says he can help.

"you are helping, by protecting the kids"

And he's running down the corridor leaving a unsatisfied jaskier behind

The mutant is more powerful than they thought and to take him down geralt need's to use his mutant form

And now they have another problem (like the Hulk yk)

Yennefer tries but her powers are meant to attack not calm down

So they decide that the only possibility they have is to knock him down

Until jaskier silently sneaks up to geralt and uses his powers to calm him down and eventually return to his human form.

And it works

Too good actually

And Mystique orders them to work on that so they could use geralt's strength when things get out of hand

But the low-key fright is still there, so geralt proposes to first work con jaskier's trust

As weeks pass, they work and talk with eachother, they get to know eachother and jaskier will lose his fear by and by

Jaskier eventually voices his deep admiration

Geralt stays near, cleaning a weapon or reading anything, when jaskier is with the kids (he's good, really good) he won't admit it, but he also admires jaskier and his ability to control the unruly group of kids

He, on the other hand, normally scares them

The nightmares are still there but thanks to geralt's light sleep and the proximity of their rooms, when he does wake up covered in sweat and mentally in the worst place ever, he has someone to help him calm down

Geralt calls it "paying a dept"

When Yennefer finds them one morning, cuddling in jaskier's bed she calls it otherwise

5 years later, jaskier is the one in charge of the kids when they are brought back, he's the best at helping them recover from their mental trauma's, when Geralt goes on mission the empathic keeps a special phone in case there is an emergency and need to calm the beast down, and oh, they've been official for 6 months

They took their time, their sweet time, but bmostly cause of geralt

He insisted he didn't want to jeopardize all the progress they had achieved with jaskier's mental condition

If you ask Yennefer they've been together for 3 years already just without the kissing

They did act like a couple

They went out a lot (noo they weren't dates) and when they came back from missions jaskier always looked for Geralt first (it's just because he's the most reckless of all of you) and if you wanted to know where one was you just had to find the other, and they wispered little things to eachother that nobody, not even Yennefer knows exactly what it is to this day

they just denied every time someone asked

6 months back jaskier decided it was enough, he wanted to publicly sit on geralt's lap (he had already done it on private 😏) and wanted to touch geralt without having to come up with useless excuses and didn't want geralt to have to go from one room to another when he had nightmares, and god just kiss the hell out of geralt

He asks him and they make it official, even though the only thing that actually changed is that they kiss and they share a bigger room, the rest remains as before

Back to the present

They are a cute couple but they are also a motherfucking power couple

They both look like they've came out of a magazine

So it's not a surprise when they often get hit on by people new to the school

Geralt is plain harsh; ignores them and leave them standing waiting for an answer that will never come or spits a biting remark

"you're not even half as hot as my bf so don't even try it"

Jaskier just uses his powers to change their feelings for him (if they don't back down with geralt's death stare)

There is also this type of bet going around about their sex life, however they all agree it must be hella hot, cause they are hella hot

Yennefer is uncharacteristically quiet

Truth is they've only had sex once.

Geralt, again, didn't want to pressure jaskier and during the first 3 months they just kissed and occasionally touched over their clothes

After geralt starting going down on jaskier and, thank God, they started doing things without clothes on

But geralt still didn't let jaskier do anything specifically to him, no blowjobs no handjobs

Yennefer as their personal psychologist, and well, best friend, listened to both of them

Jaskier came whinning, complaining about his lack of sex life. He had a freaking god and he couldn't even touch him or blow him off. Don't get him wrong, geralt was really good with his tongue, but jaskier desperately needed some good dicking, and to suck the greek god he had as he's boyfriend

It had already been 5 years since that, he wouldn't suddently pass out

Geralt came with another story, and Yennefer is sure she's never seen him this stressed

He repeated and repeated that he was going to trigger something and everything would end up being worse and he couldn't do that to his precious jaskier. Then he assured that he was going to learn everything about being a bottom because if they did end up having sex maybe jaskier didn't want to be the one receiving, maybe all those years at the brothel made him hate that position and geralt was more than willing to learn everything to make jaskier confortable and what if -

Jaskier, again, gets fed up, sits geralt down an they have a long a deep conversation

AT LAST, COMMUNICATION

their fist time is really soft, geralt takes his time and every 5 seconds asks if jaskier is alright, it's not the rough sex jaskier had dream since the beginning but it's something

Something they could work on

And voila!

Hoped you like it and plis feel free to leave any other ideas in the comments

I actually have some more headcanons for this au, so if you want me to make another post about X-men!geraskier just let me now :)

#geraskier headcanon #witcher geralt #geralt of rivia #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier #jaskier au #geralt au #x-men au #Yennefer

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goldleafacrossyourlips · 4 years

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Uneasy Lies the Head - Dark Lord/OC - Chapter 3

Chapters - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13

Chapter 3 - Lavender and Begonia

Samara had just been ready to begin relaxing when sounds down the hallway roused her. Loud voices and thumps. Never a good sign.

Phlox hopped off the bed and waited at the closed door for her to follow him. As she opened the door, she found that the noises were coming from Sabrina’s room. Samara began jogging down the hallway. Her panic and worry rising as the loud voices and thumping didn’t cease. Her Shadows writhed at her sides from her heightened emotions. Normally, when dealing with Sabrina, Samara tried to keep the Shadows to a minimum. But if Sabrina was in trouble, they could be of help. They’d helped Samara plenty enough times already.

She forwent knocking on the door and instead flung it open.

“Sabrina…?” Samara’s question died on her lips as she took in the scene. Sabrina was in the middle of the room with a handsome man behind her. Taking in his appearance and how Sabrina seemed unthreatened by him, Samara assumed this was Nicholas Scratch. She dismissed him and instead glanced at the figure that was pacing/stomping around the room and kept covering his face with bloodied hands.

“Ambrose? What happened? Why are you covered in blood?! Are you okay?” Samara stumbled forward, her arms outreached towards her blood-drenched cousin. She grasped his forearms and forced him to look at her. His pupils were blown wide. As he began rambling his story, Samara absentmindedly flicked her hand and called forth a calming draught from her bag.

“He’s dead.” Ambrose’s voice was tight and full of dread.

“What? Who’s dead?”

“I was guarding his chambers. And then there was blood.” Samara could see her cousin trembling as he spoke. “Oh dear Lucifer the Anti Pope is dead and I don’t remember why or how or who.” He looked at his hands and finally noticed the blood covering them. “It wasn’t me you have to believe me.”

Samara once again grasped his arms after forcing the calming draught into one of his hands. She unstoppered the vial and felt even herself relax the slightest bit as the scent of lavender was released.

“Of course not, Ambrose. We believe you. Now drink up and we’ll figure out what’s going on.” Samara squeezed his arms in encouragement as he guzzled down the draught. Instantly his breathing evened and his trembling stopped. They were going to continue talking when they heard Phlox growling and chittering at the door and Salem yowling and hissing downstairs. Soon they were followed by yelling voices downstairs. Samara heard mention of a traitor and felt her metaphorical hackles rise. No one messed with her family.

The four of them rushed to open the bedroom door to hear better. Phlox stood diligently by his Witch’s side. They could hear stomping and running around downstairs.

“They’re coming for me. If Blackwood and the Judas boys find me they’re going to murder me!” Ambrose bemoaned, the draught helping keep his anxiety and worry at a low level. Samara could still sense the fear in his voice. Sabrina began to run down the hallway.

“Nick, get Ambrose someplace safe. Go. Go now! I’ll stall as long as I can.” She whipped back around and continued to run down the hallway. Samara spun around and wrapped her distraught cousin in a tight hug.

“It’ll be okay Ambrose. We’re not gonna let anything happen to you.” Samara whispered to him, squeezing him one last time before glaring over at her little cousin’s beau.

“If anything happens to him, it’ll be on your head. And I plan on collecting.” Her voice was low and filled with promises. She watched as Nick nodded a mile a minute before she too left down the hallway. She heard the door shut behind her and sent a quick prayer that they’d escape.

She began to descend the stairs and saw Sabrina on the groundfloor with her Aunties, Blackwood and his posse. Samara stopped on the landing above the final stairs.

“What is the meaning of all this?” Her hand rested on the railing beside her and her head was craned regally. She felt a deep sense of satisfaction as Blackwood caught sight of her and a scowl worked its way onto his face.

“Ambrose Spellman has committed a crime so heinous I will not stop until I have his head!” The High Priest bellowed. Samara forced confusion to show on her face.

“Ambrose? Crime? What happened?” She breathed the questions and turned towards her Aunties. Both held concern on their faces as well as slight confusion.

“Have you seen Ambrose, Samara?” Zelda demanded an answer. Samara focused on her severe Aunt and felt true fear begin to curdle in her stomach at how she looked. Aunt Zelda was a constant beacon of strength and rationality. To see her as shaken as she was then would cause even the thickest of people to feel unsettled.

“No, I haven’t seen him at all. What’s going on?” Samara questioned.

“You don’t actually think Ambrose could’ve killed the Anti Pope do you Auntie?” Sabrina’s voice was small with her question. Samara reached over and squeezed her cousin’s hand.

“He was covered in blood. Dagger in hand. And when he was questioned he spirited himself away.” Aunt Zelda spat her reply. Samara felt the Shadows in the room twitched as her ire increased. She focused more of her energy into keeping them calm.

“Yes because he thought Father Blackwood was going to slaughter him. Like he had the other boys.” Aunt Hilda grit her teeth through her rebuttal. Samara stared at the two in shock. There were others?

“Others were a part of this? How many?” Samara questioned. Her worry and fear for Ambrose burned white hot in her chest. She knew her carefree and knowledgeable cousin was not capable of treachery like this.

“There were two other boys. They were dealt with before Ambrose ran.” Aunt Zelda’s brows furrowed as she remembered the scene.

“Aunt Zelda, this is Ambrose. Cousin Ambrose. Our Ambrose.” Sabrina was pleading for Aunt Zelda to understand her reasoning. Yet Aunt Zelda was having none of her pleas.

“Yes. The very same Ambrose that plotted to blow up the Vatican.” Aunt Zelda’s attention was transferred to Blackwood’s as he entered the room. Samara looked away from him with a sneer.

“There’s no trace of him. Come, Zelda. We must return to the Academy immediately. Tomorrow will be all the more challenging.” Blackwood ordered. Samara shot a glare towards him at how commanding he was. Here he was, in what was once her home, hunting down her dear cousin for a murder she didn’t believe he did and the almighty High Priest was throwing orders around like they were candy.

“Wait, you’re not going through with the Wedding are you?” Sabrina asked the question on all their minds.

“The Church of Night needs strong leadership right now. The hunt for Ambrose Spellman will continue. So too will our Wedding.” Samara fought to keep her Shadows under control at his words. A hunt and a wedding. How lovely. The last thing she needed on top of all this was for Blackwood to catch her Shadows doing something and suddenly she’d end up the next Witch he sent his little mob after.

“Surely the circumstance…” Aunt Zelda never had the chance to finish as Blackwood interrupted her.

“It is our Dark Lord will, Zelda. We shall wed following the funeral of his Unholy Eminence.” Blackwood spoke to Aunt Zelda like she was a simpleton with not a brain cell to spare. Samara held her tongue though, as she promised her Aunt she would.

“A joint wedding and funeral?” Sabrina’s tone was of nothing but disgust and horror. Samara felt pride fill her at her cousin’s response to the loathsome worm.

“Hail Satan! Hail Judas!” As soon as the last chant left Blackwood and then his lackeys’ mouths, Samara felt a chill race up her spine. She missed the concerned, confused, worried faces her family shared at the chant; too caught up in processing her response. That is wrong. Not right. Fix it. Betrayer. Liar. The words kept swirling around her head. She tried to refocus on her surroundings but the rage came back; rage similar to when the False God and Angels were mentioned. She hardly noticed everyone leaving until it was just her and Sabrina left.

“I don’t know how we’re going to be able to sleep tonight.” Sabrina’s voice was tense and wary. It was just enough to snap Samara out of whatever she was in. Samara glanced up at her cousin and saw how wired she was. She placed her hand atop her cousin’s.

“Lucky you that you have a Potion Mistress for a cousin. Come along.” Samara patted Sabrina’s hand and got up. Together they entered the kitchen. Sabrina sat at the table while Samara flitted around the space, gathering ingredients, mixing, heating and pouring. Once it was done Samara placed the warm mug into Sabrina’s hands.

“Have this empty by the time you get to your room. Then lay your head down and think of sweet thoughts. Go now. Goodnight, dear cousin.” Samara pressed a kiss to Sabrina’s forehead and shooed her on her way. Watching her cousin sip her concoction as she walked to her room, Samara began to clean her mess once again. She was about to start on the dishes when Phlox began corralling her towards her room.

“Alright you sneaky fox! We’re going!” Samara chuckled at her familiar’s antics. As they entered the room, Samara with her mug in head and yet to be sipped, Phlox once again hopped up on the bed and nestled down. Samara placed her drink on the bedside table and went to her bag. She pulled out the black dress she’d brought with her for the Wedding. She splayed it out on top of the chaise beside the wardrobe.

As she went about setting everything out for ease of getting ready tomorrow, her thoughts continually drifted back to the events of today. Had it only been this afternoon that she’d helped her Auntie bury a body? It felt like ages ago. Ambrose couldn’t have killed the Anti Pope. Set aside his gentle nature, what would he stand to gain from it? Besides having to be on the run for the rest of his life there was no positive. It made no sense. One thing Spellmen’s weren’t was stupid. If there was a plan to be made it was more than likely well thought out and perfectly executed. Yes, her and Sabrina were still learning but they had only been on the Earth for maybe 2 decades. Ambrose and her Aunties had been alive much longer and that spoke for experiences. So why would Ambrose crack and kill the Anti Pope? Because he didn’t do it. Or if he did then it wasn’t a conscious thought. It was probably Blackwood that good for nothing, vile, loathsome, disgusting…..

Samara’s musings were cut short as her Shadows twisted around her, trying to comfort her as they’ve always done. However, they grabbed at her legs and feet, causing her to trip towards the bedpost she was closest to. She managed to catch herself on the post herself, stopping its projected aim at her eye. She crawled into the bed and felt the Shadows trying to smother her in their version of comfort. She chuckled and agreed to stop thinking about her cousin. No use in dwelling over what happened or was going to happen. She’d make sure her cousin was safe.

Samara grabbed her drink and began sipping it. She closed her eyes and waited for the influence of sleep to grasp at her. Soon enough it began to drag at her eyelids and slow the cogs whirring in her brain. She made sure to set the empty mug on the table before allowing herself to slip into sleep’s sweet embrace.

#caos #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #dark lord #oc #ofc #dark lord x reader #dark lord x oc #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x oc #lucifer morningstar x ofc #lucifer morningstar #Hilda #sabrina #ambrose #zelda #spellman #i hate tagging

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missmeikakuna · 4 years

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Tired Girl Ch. 11- F/F fantasy story

One more chapter after this one!

Rated: T

Fandom: Original story

Relationship type: F/F

Description:

High schooler Nosderag is childish, impulsive and- worst of all- powerless in a magical world. Her strong sense of empathy leads her to rescue an injured fairy and bring it back to her dorm, to the chagrin of her love-powered rumoured lesbian roommate Dalzonf. Together they try to return the fairy to its enclosure before they get arrested for animal theft.

The problem is, people with love powers are seen as criminals, putting a giant target on Dalzonf’s back.

CONTENT WARNING: This story will have homophobia, bullying and discussions of sexual assault.

Chapter 11: Clever Girl

Cold wind slapped Nosderag’s skin as she raced towards the potions lab. There was but one problem.

Dr Lomaschramm was locking up the lab for the night.

Nosderag tried to think up a lie on the spot, but the teacher turned around and her nose reminded her of Daliki’s beak. Nosderag closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

‘So I saved an ara fairy who was being harmed in the animal storage shed and it followed me to my dorm and I’ve been trying to bring it back a bunch of times but there are now guards and my roommate has been blamed for a bunch of animals getting stolen and now she’s mad at me for some reason she won’t tell me and she got angry and fed the fairy too much love magic and now the fairy’s short of breath and is clearly in pain and I need a healing potion or twenty.’

Dr Lomaschramm placed her hands on Nosderag’s shoulders. ‘Okay, breathe, breathe.’ Nosderag followed her suggestion but observed her warily, her rigid shoulders up to the sky. ‘Can you describe the fairy’s symptoms?’ the teacher asked. Once Nosderag did, the teacher unlocked the lab and led her inside. She pulled out five potions one at a time and handed them to the student.

‘If one doesn’t work, wait at least five minutes before trying another. These are for magical animals specifically, so they’re your best bet.’

‘Um, thank you,’ Nosderag murmured, looking between the potions in her arms and the suddenly soft-faced teacher.

‘Now, tomorrow, bring the fairy to the principal and explain what happened. I’m sure she’ll understand.’ Dr Lomaschramm searched the room for a crate to put the potions in. ‘I need to finish closing up. You go ahead.’

Nosderag thanked the teacher before heading back towards the dormitory. On the way, she saw a familiar face under a lamp.

Mr Fot walked up to her. ‘What are you doing out this late?’

‘I have to heal an Ara fairy.’

Mr Fot stroked his chin. ‘I see. Mind showing me the fairy?’

‘She’s in my room and tomorrow I’m taking her to the Principal. Maybe see if you can visit the enclosure.’

‘Ah, yes, of course. How about I take her back to the enclosure myself? You don’t need to worry the Principal. I’d love to see such a rare specimen before the poor thing is trapped in that dusty old shed.’

Nosderag surveyed the man, at the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. The clenched hands by his side that opened and shut as if preparing to grab something at any moment. The perfect pearly smile with no lines outside his eyes.

Nosderag’s own eyes widened. ‘Um, just out of curiosity, how much do you think an ara fairy would make on the black market?’

The perfect smile turned into a scowl, then a smirk. ‘Clever Girl.’

Mr Fot swirled his hands about, creating a blue field around Nosderag. ‘Too clever. No wonder you respected me. You’re the only one who did in this stinking school. I’m sorry it has to end like this.’ His eyes made him look unhinged but they contained an ounce of genuine guilt. The field slowly shrunk.

When Nosderag touched the field, a painful chill ran up her arm. However, her pointer finger managed to make it outside. She grabbed her crate and slowly pushed herself out of the field. The pain was agonising and she felt like her limbs were going to freeze off, but she persevered. She shivered once she was out and began to run.

Inside the dorm room, Dalzonf looked at her watch and stroked Daliki’s head, cooing words of comfort. The chair she sat on shook as her knees bounced up and down.

Back on campus, Mr Fot’s eyes grew in realisation. ‘Of course. Damn omlers.’ Ice grew on his nails until they began to resemble claws. He lunged onto Nosderag from behind and dug his icy nails into her skin.

Before he could tear the skin off her back, Nosderag kicked behind her. Her foot reached his gut but she fell frontwards in the process. She teetered on her feet, praying not to drop the potions.

Ah, yes, the potions.

But first, she needed a distraction.

Meanwhile, Dalzonf stood up and walked to the door but when her eyes went down to her hands she took a step back. Her lips hurt from biting them so much and her eyes were shiny with blocked tears.

As she uncorked one of the potions, shielding them from view, Nosderag asked Mr Fot, ‘Are you the one who framed Dalzonf?’

She could hear laughter from behind. ‘Oh, so you know about that. What a shame. I always liked you as a student. She wasn’t too bad either.’

She uncorked a second potion. ‘But why her? What did she do to deserve this?’

‘Nothing, really. Exist, maybe. Once I’m done with you I’ll have to thank her for making such a lovely scapegoat.’

A pang of coldness stabbed Nosderag’s back. She made sure to dodge Mr Fot’s next attacks. She threw the bottles in her hand to the ground and ran away.

An explosion roared through the air. Green flames descended into deep purple as they ascended to the sky. The heightened pressure of the air pushed Nosderag forward until she fell to the ground. Her knees and elbows scraped against the cement. Behind her was a screeching man, followed by the cracking sound of ice. She turned her head, saw that the remaining flames had been cooled and began hurriedly crawling towards the dormitory.

A pained whisper came from Nosderag. ‘Dalzonf…’

The rumbling that came after the explosion could be heard all the way to Nosderag’s desired destination. Various students gasped and chatted loudly about what they guessed happened. Dalzonf didn’t know the details, just like everyone else, but she knew enough to run out of the dorm room and put all her power into making the elevator drop down to the ground level within seconds.

Spending that much magic made her movements sluggish, but she continued walking out of the building. She tried to speed up but felt trapped by her own weakness.

Eventually, she saw a crawling Nosderag being repeatedly punctured by icicles. The blood in Dalzonf’s skin went painfully hot. Adrenaline gave her enough energy to run towards Mr Fot and force-feed him with red mist. She kept pouring magic into his mouth until he clutched his heart and collapsed.

Dr Lomaschramm entered the scene with a first aid kit. She administered Mr Fot a healing potion before tending to Nosderag.

‘Are you okay?’ She asked Dalzonf, who was scrutinising her own trembling hands. Despite the horrified expression on her face, she nodded. ‘The police should be here any moment.’

Dr Lomaschramm glared at the guards as they ran towards the scene. She stood up and gave them the details of the situation with a clipped voice.

Nosderag sat on a bench outside as fire tolxers melted away the ice from her back. She pointed to the crate, which still contained several potions. Dalzonf picked up the crate and brought it to her. Nosderag pulled out a potion.

‘Try this on Daliki,’ she ordered Dalzonf, who at this point was reduced to tears.

‘But what about-’

Nosderag’s laughter was wobbly as she continued to shiver. ‘I’ll be fine. She’s in greater danger right now.’

As Dalzonf ran back inside, several students slowly carried Nosderag into the dormitory. A fire tolxer powered the elevator for extra warmth. The last thing she heard before the elevator doors closed was a whispered question from a student.’

‘Astra, did that love tolxer really just save her?’

Nosderag had to smile at that.

#lesbian #fantasy #LGBT #romance #writing #yuri #lgbt romance #original fiction #drama #Tired Girl

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demoncryptspanties · 5 years

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Time After Time

Part 1

Masterlist

Ambrose Spellman x reader

A/N Okay so this is the first part to something I have been trying to finish for so long, I’m sorry it's so long after the second season came out but yeah. Here ya go, I guess.

When you first met Ambrose, the moon was heavy in the sky. Stars making it seem like it was daylight, almost like a painting, as if someone had painted the sky. It felt like a dream. He wasn’t supposed to be there, he was in Spain, bearing witness to art and culture. Things he said later were incomparable. You were running, away from something, responsibility. It seemed like fate for the two of you to find yourself on that bridge. You were looking over the river, a hood pulled over your head. The community here were almost all witches and Warlocks. There were communities like this scattered across the world, little pockets of people just like you, hiding from humanity.

You seemed to be seeing something in the water, at first you thought they were leaves until they started to glow. Fish glowing about as bright as the moon swimming in small circles. You were mesmerised for a second or two before you looked up realising that it wasn’t, you’re doing. A man stood at the other end of the bridge, a soft, welcoming smile on his face, his hand opened and faced towards the water.

“I hope you don’t mind. You just looked a little upset over something.” He called from his place, walking towards you.

“Not at all. Apparitions aren’t exactly my forte, I’ve never been able to do something so intricate.” You said an easy smile on your face. You felt safe, considering you had never met the guy and you were alone on a abridge at night in a town full of magic users.

“It’s easy really. You could probably do the same with a little practise. So, what exactly is your forte?” He was about an arm’s length away from you, the urge to move closer was there but you resisted it.

“Potions and healing. My parents think that with my ranking within the coven it would be best suited to serving the coven and eventual husband.” You don’t know why you felt so comfortable opening up to him, but you did.

“Is that why you’re here on a bridge at 3am.” He asked his soft smile never wavering.

“No that is because of the proposal that I just found out about.” You said finally facing him.

“Forgive me but I don’t see how that is much of a problem, should you not be happy.”

“Well yes, I suppose. It does help that he is somewhat attractive. He’s also supposed to be the next high priest of the coven but. I…don't really like him like that. At all. He’s great as a friend but marrying him, I could never.” You seemed in shock of how much you revealed to the stranger but at ease, once you had finished.

“You could always run” The look on his face was completely serious.

“No. I can’t. My sister got excommunicated, I’m all my family have left to restore the image. Besides, maybe I’ll feel different when he actually proposes.”

“Life is way too long for us to live life unhappily.” With how close the two of you were standing, anyone walking past would think you were lovers.

“That was rather philosophical to say at 3am.” You chuckled lightly.

“Perhaps but I’m not wrong. You should at least think about it” He moved away from you walking towards the opposite side of the bridge he entered from.

“You’re leaving without at least giving me your name.” You asked a confused expression following the man.

“Yes. I tell my philosophy and leave. It’s more mysterious this way. The town isn’t big perhaps we will see each other in daylight” He stopped to say.

“And if we do see each other, what is that. Fate”

“Yes” You didn’t hear what he said after that if anything, but a soft smile fell upon your face anyways.

You hadn’t slept well, having so much to think about but the light woke you, coming through the thin curtains of the house you were staying at. The walls themselves were a light beige going well with the light blue curtains and door.

You decided that since you only had 4 days here until you returned to England to start your writing course that you should explore the small town. The paintings were supposed to be magnificent here and the general atmosphere of the town had you wanting to explore. The market was not too far away from the home, a five-minute walk at most.

The snake that was previously wrapped around the bedpost moved itself to your wrist, adorning it like a set of bracelets. Head resting just above your wrist, her tongue long enough to swipe just past your fingers. She was a gift from a close friend of yours when you turned 9, you named her Selene.

It was warmer than you anticipated, the close-toed shoes you wore seemed to be a mistake by the time you got to the market. It was bustling with what seemed like the whole town, people rushing to the stalls with fruits and meat. You walked quickly to the bakers stand you encountered on your first day, the smell of fresh bread seemed to be heightened by magic.

“Good morning Jacob, could I have the one with the seeds.” You asked a sweet smile on your face. You pulled out a few coins before a voice sounded behind you.

“So, it was you who the good bread was reserved for.” The voice was teasing and familiar.

“We both know that I had marginally better charm than you Angelica” You replied pulling her into a hug. “Is there a reason my favourite sister is in Spain”

“Well, there are perks of being excommunicated, such as being able to roam free. It has been a while though how have you been. Fill me in” She said paying for you and leading you away.

You spent the entire day catching up, although you see her about every month, since she wasn’t talking to your parents the night chatter and sneaking around in comparison to talking openly was exciting. She spoke of her travels and her pursuits. Hoping to spend the next few days with you.

The two of you explored the town, you looking over her head at times to see if you could catch the man from the bridge but you didn’t seem to. Taking his comment about fate to heart you guessed that you were not supposed to see him again and stopped looking.

You were due to leave in the evening so you had about 5 hours before you should be at the docks. Your sister took you to a café near the house you were staying at. While sipping tea you decided to fill her in on the proposal

“Jude is supposed to propose to me after my course is finished.” You said interrupting her chatter about the weather in Paris.

“That is 3 years away you have time to prepare,” she said eyebrows furrowed.

“I don’t want to marry him, and 3 years is not that long for witches.” You took a deep breath and looked back at her.

“I suppose your right. If you want me to tell you to do it, I won’t. You know I cannot stand our parents. If you don’t want to marry him refuse.” Angelica moved her cup away from herself, shifting so her legs were crossed the other way.

“It isn’t that simple. They’ll disown me” You whispered the reality of it only hitting you now.

“They did the same to me. It’s not so bad,” She had a reassuring smile on her face, but it offered you no comfort.

“I’ve just never been on my own like that before, at least I had them to fall back on. No money or place to stay. You were able to do it because you’re you. You’re brilliant and independent. I can’t. I am way to shy for that” She chuckled reaching out for your hand.

“You’ll be fine. If worst comes to worst, I’ll find you and take you with me.” Your eyes lit up at the assurance. You could say no, and it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

She helped you take your things to docks and gave you a kiss and a wave as the boat drifted away, much like your anxieties for the coming years.

England itself was dirty and wet a lot less magical than was described to you. It was muddy and stank. It really did lack all the culture and feelings of the town in Spain, but this would be where you would spend the next three years, so you tried to suck it up and think of the upsides. That proved harder than you wanted.

By the time you got to the small cottage you would be staying at in the mainland, it was late. Late as in almost 3 days after you had arrived and also late in terms of the sky was already dark. Not quite pitch black but the want for a candle as you walked up the gravel steps made it seem later than it was. Selene was relaxed wrapped loosely on your upper arm shielded from both the cold weather and the dark sky and absent moon.

You gave two hesitant knocks on the door, waiting a full minute before hitting it again with a lot more ferocity than you anticipated. The door opened seconds later revealing a round-faced woman with a washrag on her shoulder.

“Oh, dear you must be Y/N, I’m Louise owner of the house but all the kids just call me mama” She ushered you in quickly closing the door behind you and muttering something under her breath. “You must be a little hungry, today's journey was pretty long, but first let me show you to your room.”

You heaved the trunk you had with you, seeing you struggle, Louise flicked her hand and the trunk started to float about two inches from the floor. “Thank you, um, Louise.”

“It’s no issue dear,” The stairs were immediately in front of you and you followed her up to the second floor. The landing revealed what seemed, you counted to be 6 doors, Louise walked confidently to the furthest one opening it and letting you through. The setup was almost identical to your room in Spain besides the colours of the room which were mostly mint and blues and greens to complement it.

“Each room has a bathroom; the rules are the same as my sisters in Spain so you should be familiar. The only difference is, of course, there are other children who go the school here. There are no set mealtimes but if I’m around you can always ask for a little something, I do love to cook. I’ll whip something up while you settle in. Oh, and another difference from Spain, there’s a curfew of midnight. Although this is witch country it’s not safe for anyone after that time, I hope you understand.”

She didn’t go into more detail about the curfew but gave you a soft smile and left. You sighed gently pulling out your small number of belongings from your trunk. Although you liked to travel light there weren’t an abundance of outfits for this weather which you would have to rectify. A shopping trip would be ideal but without Angelica the idea of it made you shift uncomfortably.

Sensing your discomfort Selene came out from her place under your cloak and to the edge of your hand. You gave her a soft pat on the head and put her on the top of the open trunk. She looked back at you with a sense of wonder an innocence that could only be present in an animal. The little number of clothes you had were in a cupboard within the next half an hour.

You took a minute to appreciate the little pottering you did and sat down on the queen-sized bed in the middle of the room. The distant sound of rumbling pulled you out of your thoughts, walking downstairs the unmistakable smell of steak filled your nose eliciting a response from your stomach that even made you stop for a minute.

Louise was in the kitchen, mixing a batter, humming a soft tune that made you feel at ease.

“You settle in alright dear,” being an empath, she was able to feel your presence as soon as you walked in.

“Yes, thank you. I’m sorry but can I serve myself a piece of that, it looks really good.” You were drawn to the table, feet moving at their own will.

“Yes, of course, that is why I made it.” Her response put you into action immediately, you had a plate made in under a minute, scoffing your food down way too fast. You made an effort to leave a small piece of steak for Selene that you would bring up later.

“The town looked nice when I went past.” You said in an attempt to make conversation.

“Yes, it does. Clara can take you around tomorrow. You were supposed to meet her today, but she got a little occupied somewhere, but she’ll be here tomorrow for breakfast. Clara is a year above but took the same classes so she can tell you about that as well.” The two of you settled into meaningless chatter until her cake was ready. Just like the steak, it was delicious, and you were not disappointed.

You still hadn’t seen anyone else who lived there but there was still 2 hours till curfew. You found out that as well as you and Clara, there were two other boys, Jacob and Tom, and another girl Lilac. Lilac was also a year older than you, taking marginally different classes than everyone else, Louise described her as a bit of a daredevil, she seemed likeable enough, but you, of course, would have to judge that.

Jacob was in his final year and wasn’t around much. Tom though was in the same year as you but stayed here through the summer. He again took different classes than you, except the conjuring course meaning you would see him there. Louise conveyed that he was a pretty quiet and shy, keeping to himself for the most part.

You retired to your room shortly after, seeing that Selene was missing and leaving the steak on the top of the bedside table. It seemed to be minutes after you changed and sat in bed, that you were out cold. The morning came too quickly for comfort, the stress of the journey catching up with you.

Groggily walking downstairs, you were met by Louise and a pretty black-haired girl who immediately introduced herself.

“I’m Clara, and you must be Y/N. after breakfast, Louise said that I should take you around town if you’re up for it.” Her energy made you smile, and you agreed. You made a cup of tea and ate a couple pieces of toast before putting your shoes and cloak on to leave. Selene was still missing but you paid no mind, she was rather independent when she didn’t want attention.

The two of you walked down the gravel path in what a silence until Clara cleared her throat lightly. “I heard you’re doing the writing course. You have the guest speaker this year, some prodigy who comes down every other year. He published a poetry book at 17.”

You perked up at the mention of a prodigy, “Really, that ought to be interesting.” You settled into gentle chatter while she showed you around the town. You bought a few cloaks to wear and thicker clothing, as well as a pale blue dress for an occasion. By the end of the day, you had a heavy bag and a hungry stomach.

You two ate dinner together still engrossed in chatter, Selene appearing to steal a piece of meat and settled in your lap.

“You know you aren’t allowed familiars in the academy, right?” Clara asked sipping on a cup of hot water.

“Yeah, I heard. Is there a particular reason why?”

“No, it’s just a common rule among schools for us. Perhaps because some people like you have snakes while others have mice and bugs. It’s easy to get eaten.” You shook your head in agreement and then said your goodbye retiring again to your room to lie in bed.

You took out the silver hand mirror gifted by your sister, your mothers face revealing itself after a moment.

“Hello, sweetheart. How are you it’s been a couple days, how was the journey?” She had a tight smile on her face, clearly, she was also going to pretend the argument didn’t happen.

“Fine, the journey was long but nothing a good night’s sleep couldn’t fix.” You didn’t give her the satisfaction of a smile, eyes frowning slightly.

“Right, that’s good.” She trailed off, unsure of what to say next.

Your dad seemed to save the day, eyes lighting up when he saw you. “Sweetheart how are you. How is England, how was Spain.” You answered with a soft smile and a laugh. Your mother left the room with a scoff handing your father the mirror.

“It was great dad. You know there’s a famous writer who is speaking to us about the course. I also saw Angelica in Spain. Oh, and I had a really interesting conversation with this guy on a bridge.” His eyes lit up at your enthusiastic reply.

“Tell me about it.” You did, taking about an hour of conversation. You and your father had always been close, the events that he disagreed with making you two closer. Your mother had yet to tell him about the engagement, but you left that for her to do when she felt like it. By the time you had finished, you were truly ready to sleep with a small smile on your face.

The next week passed quickly. You had small run-ins with everyone in the house, opting to spend a lot of time with Lilac as you two had gotten on well. Your conversations with Clara although polite felt a little forced after that day, something rubbed you up wrong about her. Tom and you only engaged in niceties, but he made an effort to smile when he saw you and he liked to feed Selene whenever he saw her. Jacob, on the other hand, was rather cold to you but Lilac assured you he was like that with everyone.

The first day at the school went as you would expect, the introducing of subject’s and classmates. Aside from the one class, you had with Tom you mostly kept to yourself. Perhaps it was the fact that you weren’t a local, but the others were rather cold towards you. Then again, they are Witches and Warlocks. The introduction to both writing and conjuring were interesting. Whereas the others you had previous experience in, conjuring ended with a slight mishap in demon handling resulting in a small issue with containment but a classmate of yours had fixed that quickly.

The writing course was as you would expect from a mortal course. The only strange thing was those in attendance. There was another girl from conjuring and another from healing but other than that the room was filled with other Warlocks. Perhaps it was due to how mortal studies were optional but also that it wasn’t a traditional sort of mortal studies, that and female writers of fame were rare.

The teacher outlined the course and how the week after, the guest speaker would give you some help and stick around for the month as he had studied here briefly. You were tasked with creating a piece for him to read and grade as a test of your abilities in technique. The eccentric nature of your teacher encouraged you further, writing ideas in the small notebook you had kept on you.

The best ideas you had been told by your father were those that had been closest to real life. So, you decide to draw on your experiences the most prominent in your mind being your meeting with the man on the bridge. You spent the week working on the poetry paying attention to the techniques your teacher kept talking about. By the next week, you were happy with it reading over it a final time to make sure it was perfect before school.

The day couldn’t have gone any slower lunch finally there where Lilac was waiting in the cafeteria.

“So are you excited,” she asked a small smirk on her face. “I heard he’s hot.”

“Well yeah but that doesn’t matter he’s good which is what I actually care about. Professor Hunt refuses to tell us his name though. Off-topic but is that soot in your hair?” She laughed lightly, shaking the soot out of her hair.

“Yeah, there was a small hexing mishap. It’s fine - the fire was contained - for the most part.” Her eyes contained a glint of delight making you laugh shaking your head at her.

“Did you set that boy on fire.” Her eyes seemed to light up a huge smile gracing her face.

“Yes, but he has been tormenting me for a year. I mean the burns really aren’t bad. I promise.” You shook your head at her chewing on an apple you had. “So, what did you write for the class. What is it about, anything saucy?” She raised her eyebrows at you.

“No. it’s just about this guy that I met.” You smiled lightly.

“Oh, one week here and you have already developed a crush.” She laughed at you.

“Anyone here, Satan no. I had this conversation with a guy in Spain. I mean it really doesn’t matter I won’t see him again. He made little illusion fish it was cute okay. Stop looking at me like that.” One of her eyebrows were raised a smirk present on her face.

“Did you get his name?”

“No, he refused to give it to me, saying that if we should ever meet again it shall be through fate,” you said with an exaggerated English accent.

“So, he is English then?” The smirk was still there it seemed to get more prominent the more you spoke.

“Well yeah. Did I not mention that?” You looked at her a little confused.

“No, what did he look like, maybe he goes here.”

You sighed deeply, “doubtful this is a big place and he didn’t seem like a student. Honestly, it's fine it was one conversation it really doesn’t mean anything.”

“Well you never know, maybe it is fate.” You shut down the subject after that asking for the exact story of Lilacs hex ‘mishap’. Lunch seemed to end quicker than usual because before you knew it you were walking towards the classroom.

You entered a few minutes early, a couple students already there and some of the older students were waiting around, including Clara, you suppose to meet the guest. Even though there was a lot of talk about the guy the probability that half the people in this room would know he was, was minuscule. There were a number of writers in the community and age was also a funny number.

You settled down on your desk making polite talk with Clara. The older students seemed to trickle out and were hanging around outside when your professor appeared the guest hot on his tale. You whispered a small “Judas priest” under your breath when you saw who it was. Yes, he did look marginally better in daylight. He had a soft smile on his face until he noticed you, the smile getting noticeably bigger. You were lucky your seat was at the back so no one could see your flustered state.

“So, this is our guest today and well for the month, Ambrose Spellman. He’ll be a consultant for you students for a month, lucky you.” Your professor didn’t seem that enthusiastic about the situation.

“yes, that is correct. Well, I’m not sure how many of you know but I published a poetry book when I was 17, I studied at Oxford and then did a poetic history course here which is why professor Daniel seems so eager to have me here again.” There was a little chuckle that went along with that but in all honesty, you were much too anxious about the poem you wrote to notice.

“So, I hear you all wrote poetry today. Well as you share with your peers and your professor, I shall go around give pointers.” Your professor made a hand motion and the room began to murmur getting louder by the second.

Ambrose seemed to make a B-line for your desk, ending up in front of you before you had a chance to focus. “Hey.” He paused waiting for you to address him, but you were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t respond.

“Well now that you know my name, I suppose it’s only fair you tell me yours,” the smile on his face was sweet and inviting snapping you out of your dazed state.

“Yeah its, Y/N Y/L/N” You cleared your throat and tried to look anywhere else but him. A large portion of the room seemed to be focused on you making you squirm slightly.

“Well how about the poetry you wrote,”

“I didn’t write one this week I forgot.” You refused to meet his eye even though he took up the better portion of your view.

“Yes, you have I can see it on the desk” He picked up the sheet of paper quickly before you could move to grab it. In fear of embarrassment, you looked down at your lap hoping he wouldn’t read it out loud but of course, you wouldn’t be so lucky.

It wasn’t the content you were afraid of, more of his reaction at who you were obviously talking about.

Perhaps it was the fish, glowing underneath the reflection of the moon,

Perhaps it was the moon itself, the soft glow highlighting the softness of his eyes,

Perhaps it was the smirk, the advice it gave, the dreams it gave me

Or maybe it was the promise of fate, that we would meet again.

“Was this about anyone in particular or what?” A teasing smirk was evident on his face. The students that were around you seemed interested and stopped talking though the rest of the class were eager to discuss their own writing.

“Just someone I met a while ago, I’m not sure who he is,” You had a soft smirk on your face, unaware of the stares the two of you were getting.

“Is that right,” He paused for a moment before continuing, “Well I suppose I should get to the rest of the class, but here some pointers.” He took a pencil from your desk and sketched a few things onto your paper. From the angle, you couldn’t see what he wrote and so waited until he finished.

He handed the piece back to you, everyone turning back to their own work waiting to see who he would go to next leaving him to give you a soft smile and a wink before moving to one of the other students.

You pulled the paper back to you, he had said ‘Short but sweet, impressive especially for a beginner. Maybe a little more emotion. Perhaps I could give you a few pointers over a meal. Meet you at the Library after last period.’ You smiled folding the piece of paper and putting it into your pocket. You carried on with the whatever your professor had asked you to do while watching Ambrose around the room.

#ambrose spellman imagine #ambrose spellman #caos imagine #ambrose spellman x reader #caos #time after time

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twinkbouttapounce · 4 years

Text

@geraltwhumpweek

TITLE: Think Happy Thoughts

PROMPT DAY: Day 2: Potions

MEDIUM (Netflix, Books, Games, Hexer): Netflix

WARNINGS: Recreational drug use, self harm, bad trip as viewed by a sober onlooker

SUMMARY: Geralt takes some White Gull in the woods while Jaskier supervises. His high is ruined before it even really begins.

WORD COUNT: 1,987

AUTHOR’S NOTES: researching does tend to be my favorite part of writing so I had a lot of fun with this one :) It can be read pre-relationship geraskier if you so choose.

Geralt was an anxious person, Jaskier had come to find, and as such it did not shock him in the slightest when Geralt expressed his habit of using certain perception-altering substances recreationally.

While they had done a number of said substances together, Jaskier had yet to see Geralt on White Gull. It was intriguing to learn that there were witcher-specific hallucinogens, and Jaskier had jumped at the opportunity to assist Geralt through his high.

He’s had a vague idea of what to expect. Geralt had given a brief overview of the standard effects, namely describing the warm floaty feeling he took the unfinished potion for. He would likely hallucinate, and he would be overly emotional, but he would be calm. The calm seemed to be Geralt’s favorite part, a stilling to the endless buzz in his head. Jaskier could definitely appreciate that, having tried a number of herbs and elixirs to still his own thoughts.

Geralt had taken the potion when they set up camp for the night, just before the sun had started to set. An hour later the effects began to take hold.

It started with a softening in Geralt’s eyes. Jaskier knew he took care to keep his pupils a relatively human size but seeing them expand wider, wider, until only a thin ring of gold surrounded the dewy black was a gorgeous experience. The giggling was the next most apparent. Geralt had a delightful way of wrinkling his nose when he giggled, though he never did it sober, and the sluggish way he paused before Jaskier’s jokes seemed to click made it all the better.

It was around when Geralt began contentedly staring off into space for lengthening periods of time that things started going downhill.

A couple passing through approached them, amicable as any until they saw Geralt. Even with his posture loose, armor shed, and expression soft it was clear who Geralt was. If his inhuman eyes were not enough, then his hair and nearby swords were, especially with how his reputation as the White Wolf had been gaining traction.

“Witcher,” they had hissed, and Geralt’s smile had faltered.

Seeing as he could hardly let passing strangers ruin his friend’s good mood Jaskier stood to intervene.

“How might I help you this evening?” He greeted, shifting their attention from Geralt to himself.

“We don’t need help from anyone who associates with that Butcher,” the husband had replied.

Jaskier would have had half a mind to fight the couple for that, however, he didn’t think Geralt would appreciate the effort even in his heightened state. He tried for diplomacy but the insults continued. Murderer, freak, demon, the words piled until Jaskier could tolerate no more.

“It’s getting rather late, if you don’t need anything I think it might be best for you to move along and find a nice place to camp, yeah?”

The couple seemed to deliberately miss the point, moving closer instead. It was only when Jaskier made casual mention of needing to help Geralt sharpen his swords that the pair took the hint and scurried off into the deepening night.

Jaskier sat back next to Geralt with a huff, some sarcastic comment on his tongue. The witcher tensed. Frowning, Jaskier followed the other’s gaze into the forest and found not so much as a falling leaf. Geralt started to shake and nervousness stirred in Jaskier’s belly. Geralt was supposed to be calm, not look minutes away from bursting into tears. He waved a hand in front of the witcher’s face and called his name in the hopes of inspiring a reaction.

Rather than turning to the bard or swatting at his hand Geralt shrunk in on himself, muttering a sheepish “I’m sorry.” Alarm reared its head in Jaskier’s chest. Geralt looked smaller than the bard had ever seen him as his large, unfocused eyes stared through something in the distance. The way the growing moonlight pooled in his eyes made Geralt look entirely too vulnerable.

Jaskier’s nerves multiplied. He knelt before Geralt and put his hands on the witcher’s knees. Geralt flinched back from the touch, near falling over the log he had been sitting on. Jaskier hesitantly called for him again, only for Geralt to scramble back, more apologies falling from his lips.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he begged. “I tried not to, I tried—”

Geralt cut off suddenly and his head whipped to one side.

“Geralt, you’re scaring me. I need you to talk to me.” Jaskier ignored the shake in his voice as he tried again.

The witcher gave no sign of acknowledgment. His hands dug into the ground, a hurt expression morphing features that had been so relaxed less than an hour ago. Geralt flinched away from nothing. A whimper built in his throat until it became a sob.

When the first tears ran down Geralt’s face Jaskier began panicking in earnest. Geralt reached for his swords with desperate hands and Jaskierer lunged to get to them first. Nothing good could come of Geralt having a weapon at the moment. He ignored Geralt’s sob, threw the swords as far as he could, and rushed into their tent for a blanket. Jaskier wrapped Geralt in the fabric before half dragging him onto a bedroll.

In need of some release for his nervous energy, Jaskier talked. He couldn’t be sure what Geralt was seeing, only that it scared him, made the witcher look young and afraid. His hands ran over Geralt’s back as the man rocked. For every apology from Geralt, there was a reassurance that he had done his best from Jaskier.

Geralt’s crying subsided eventually, replaced by an uneasy silence. Jaskier laid an arm over the man’s shoulders and pulled him close. The witcher shook where he was pressed into Jaskier’s side, and, unsure what else to do, he began humming a lullaby. For a bit, it seemed Geralt might have gotten through the worst of it.

When Jaskier was close to nodding off Geralt suddenly began thrashing. He cried out as if struck, fought to rid himself of the blanket and make it out the tent. The witcher stumbled to find his swords again. The nearest blade happened to be Jaskier’s knife, on the ground near where they had been sitting earlier. Geralt unsheathed the dagger and brought it to his arm. Blood welled over the skin before Jaskier could intervene, and Geralt raised the knife to slash at his arm once more.

At his best, Jaskier may not have stood a chance against the witcher, but Geralt wasn’t at his best. The bard tackled him from behind and Geralt howled. He bucked, an uncoordinated wildness to his actions, but Jaskier held on. He wrestled the knife from Geralt’s white knuckles, threw it away, and managed to pin Geralt’s wrists beneath his knees with the use of his full weight.

The broken cries that fell from Geralt’s mouth made Jaskier’s chest ache but he held steady. He had seen the scars on Geralt’s thighs and knew no monster or person could be responsible for the sheer number except Geralt himself. With his judgment impaired Jaskier couldn’t dare to hope Geralt would hold any care for his own safety. It was only after the witcher fell into another crying spell that Jaskier moved. Slowly, the bard let Geralt go bit by bit. When he was fully disentangled Jaskier stood.

With frantic motions, Jaskier gathered anything his panicked brain recognized as dangerous and threw it into Roach’s saddlebag. He fastened the bag to Roach, forgoing any of her riding gear in favor of getting back to Geralt sooner. He petted her nose in thanks before rushing back to the tent, assured that should Geralt try to hurt himself he would need to hunt Roach down first.

When Jaskier returned to Geralt the witcher was scratching angry red marks into his arms as he hugged himself. A litany of pleads, apologies and disconnected words fell from Geralt’s mouth, a match to the tears falling from his eyes

“Fuck,” Jaskier breathed.

He pulled Geralt’s hands away from the bloody lines and held them to his own chest. Geralt looked at him and Jaskier let himself hope it was with recognition. The witcher’s eyes locked onto Jaskier’s throat.

“I’m sorry, Jask,” he said.

It was in no way the recognition Jaskier had wanted. He tried to assure Geralt he was fine, that he had long forgiven him for his misspoken wish, but Geralt’s eyes were still unfocused and he had no way to be sure his words were coming through.

The rest of the night proceeded in similar bouts of activity and stillness. Jaskier alternated between pinning Geralt’s hands and stroking his back. Geralt fell asleep sometime in the early morning before dawn, clutching Jaskier to his chest. When the sun rose and Geralt opened his tear-puffy eyes again the bard felt the tension of the night finally leave him.

“Back with me Dearheart?” Jaskier asked sleepily.

Geralt nodded, eyes still unguarded but aware.

“I… I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to go like that.”

Jaskier hummed and pulled Geralt closer. Of course it wasn’t supposed to go like that, he wanted to say. Instead, he asked, “Are you ok?”

Geralt seemed shocked by Jaskier’s question but nodded hesitantly. Memories of Geralt shouting with terrified eyes, of pulling the witcher’s hands from bloody tears in his skin, plagued Jaskier’s mind despite the exhaustion weighing on his body.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he started. “But it might do some good to talk about what you saw. You were yelling a lot but I couldn’t figure out what at.”

Geralt looked away and a shudder ran through him. He was quiet for a long time, long enough Jaskier thought he might be stubborn and refuse to talk. When Geralt finally spoke his voice was faint and heavy with emotion.

“Just… people. People I let down. You, Vesemir, Visenna, Ren—” he cut himself off and restarted. “People that died because of me and… the Trials. A lot of boys died during the Trials.”

Jaskier was hardly awake enough to process the enormity of Geralt’s near ninety years of cumulative guilt but he knew Geralt needed him, so he gave it his best.

“You haven’t let me down. And I’m not dead. The one time you almost killed me you didn’t, and every other time I’ve nearly died you’ve kept it from happening. I’ve met Vesemir, and I don’t think he would say you’ve let him down either. Also your mother is a thistle worth less than the ground she grows in. Fuck her and her opinions.”

It wasn’t his most eloquent, but it was enough for Geralt to look at him again. Fear seeped from the witcher’s shoulders in little measures until he looked himself again, no longer scared and young, but with hints of vulnerability still clinging.

“Right, let’s get you cleaned up,” Jaskier said after a moment. “You hurt yourself a couple times, got me all in a huff and covered in blood.”

Geralt looked down and made a face as if he were only just realizing how his arms ached. Jaskier gathered a cloth and one of their water skins then wiped away the flaking blood. He could feel Geralt watching him as he worked but paid him no mind. He needed a nap. When the cloth stopped coming away red Jaskier spread salve over the wounds, careful of the uneven redness around Geralt’s biceps where he had scratched himself. The bard pressed a kiss to each cut when he finished.

“matter to me,” Jaskier muttered between kisses, “You’re good and strong and beautiful and so brave. There is no shame in doing your best to help people.”

Geralt stared incredulously until the last of his injuries were cared for.

“Sometimes when I’m with you, you make me feel like a real person,” he said.

#jaskier #geralt #geralt x jaskier #fic #geralt whump week #recreational drug use #drug use tw #self harm tw #geralt z rivii #julian alfred pankratz #the witcher #witcher #netflix witcher #the witcher netflix #my fic

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kabhi-haath-pakad-k-tu-mera · 5 years

Text

A Path Of Ambition and Power

Written for The International Wizarding School Championship

Round 3 : Welcome to the Dungeons, it's potions time!

Theme : Felix Felicis

Word Count : 2766

School : Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Year : Year 3

Prompt : [Main] 7. Begging (Action),

[Additional] 1. Dungeons (Setting),

[Additional] 10. Drizzling - Rain (Weather)

————

In all twenty years of her life, Bellatrix Black has only ever felt repressed. Repressed and suffocated. She’s always had ambition, always had great plans for power except, as her mother tells her none-too-gently again, it would ruin their family's impression—put a damper on the Blacks’ power. It’s the twentieth century still, and they are, after all, the aristocrats of the Wizarding World. It wouldn't do for a daughter from the Black family to be seen working her way through the ministry, running for minister of magic. The Wizarding World would never let a woman run their ministry anyway. No, she’s to be married off into a respectable pure blood family and gain the Blacks another vote in the Wizengamot. Traded. As if she were a commodity.

Bellatrix wants to scream out every rebellious thought inside her head and tell everyone exactly what she thinks of their ideas of how she is supposed to behave. Instead, she blankly looks her mother in her eyes, unwavering all through her admonishment, even as Druella's lips set into a thin line, which she knows not be a good sign. Druella only glares at her icily before leaving the room in a flurry of robes. Bella relaxes, but only just, waiting for Narcissa’s disapproving voice to cut the thick tension in the room as she knows it will.

“I don’t understand why you feel the need to upset mother so. It’ll only take a turn for the worse, you know.”

Bella doesn't need to turn to know that there is a dainty frown marring Narcissa’s features.

She doesn't reply, afraid she’ll say things she’d regret. She stares at the brightly wallpapered wall instead, reciting to herself the names of all the heavenly bodies she knows, all that her family members are named after—Cygnus, Cassiopeia, Orion, Sirius, Andromeda … She stops and exhales sharply, anger and resentment bubbling in her throat.

She would never forgive Andromeda for marrying a filthy Mudblood, but now she’s finally starting to understand why Andy had always been so desperate to get rid of her aristocratic status and ties to the Black family. If it weren't for her love for Narcissa, she would've run away too. They are twins after all, Andy and her, they share more than just their appearances.

————

II.

Bella doesn't think that her distaste for the curse that is patriarchy can expand any further, but she is proven wrong yet again as she smiles almost painfully at the numerous wizards her mother has introduced her to (all of whom are leering at her unabashedly) and hopes it doesn't look like a grimace.

She finally manages to excuse herself from the gentlemen and starts weaving her way through the other guests, searching for Narcissa whom she had lost in the crowd when her mother had gotten hold of her.

She doesn't even understand what it is that has made her accompany her mother and father to this Christmas ball organised by the Malfoys in honour of a wizard that is nowadays said to be the greatest wizard to be born. He is said to be as powerful as Dumbledore—perhaps even more so—and set onto a path to reform the Wizarding World, purge it of Mudbloods, and overthrow the statue of secrecy. She quietens the little voice in the back of her head that tells her exactly why she is where she is.

Because you wanted to know if it was true.

She’s about to go out into the gardens to continue looking for her sister when she suddenly stops, and the door to her left opens with a bang and everyone is quiet. Lord Voldemort does make quite an entrance.

She knows of him from having heard her father speak of him during meals. Such a great wizard, such great ability, such great plans.

“Lord Voldemort will cleanse the Wizarding World”,

she's heard him say, and he says it with reverence.

It is through him that she’d come to know of the followers he was gathering—Death Eaters—and he had declared that he would recruit anyone who was loyal, anyone whose blood was pure, anyone who had the same thirst for power and who wanted the Wizarding World to rise above the filthy Muggles, to get out of the hiding they had been forced into. Anyone. Even Witches. She hadn't had to pretend to be interested in the conversation that day. Lord Voldemort radiated power. You could feel his presence in your core—something strong, powerful, and cruel. And it is this power she is attracted towards.

She finds herself wandering towards him instead of looking for Narcissa like she had set off to, and finds herself standing a few feet off of a group of wizards that are quite apparently tripping over themselves to please their lord, to prove their worth. She stands for a moment and observes. Even if the Death Eaters were to stop behaving like overexcited puppies, it would be easy to mark him as a leader. She stands there for a few more minutes as she watches more wizards arrive to greet their leader, and her father is one of them, telling him that The Ancient and Most Noble House Of Black supports his endeavours wholeheartedly.

She doesn't think her father has realized yet that it is not he who is playing the Dark Lord like a fiddle, and that their roles have been reversed, but then, he doesn't realize half the things he should. But he sees her standing and he has excused himself and crossed over to her with a frown, asking her why she wasn't with her mother or with Cissy flirting with some elite wizard.

He herds her towards where she knows Druella is and also away from the Dark Lord. Bella can feel eyes boring into her back, though, and she cannot help but look over her shoulder to see who it is. Her eyes lock with the red ones of the Dark Lord's, but then her father is tugging her away again and she has to look away.

————

III.

Bella finds herself even more intrigued by the Dark Lord and his plans for revolutionizing the Wizarding World as the month progresses after the Christmas Ball, the weather turning from the usual December cold to a dreadful wet and rain filled winter not usually associated with January, filled with light drizzling here and there.

She’s now begun to actively search for any information about him and his band of Death Eaters she can get her hands on, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn't finding the lure of power tempting. Her parents would kill her if they ever found out just how tempting becoming a death eater is to her. But she isn't going to tell them of her plans to join them, of course—if she can. Her desire to throw caution to the wind and to just go through with it is heightened every time she finds mention of his deeds. It reaches its peak when she sees him in flesh again at the annual charity auction her parents organize to raise funds for St.Mungo’s.

His arrival there is unexpected—there are, after all, ministry employees present. But he seems to disregard this as trivial and drinks in with a sort of masked pleasure as his followers—the Death Eaters—trip over their robes while rushing to greet him. She finds herself watching the scene unfold for more than a few minutes from over the shoulder of a wizard who has been droning on and on about his views on the Goblins and Gringotts for far longer than should be legal.

She gets quite a start when she finds herself looking into red eyes from across the room then, for the Dark Lord seems to be looking at her directly. She holds his gaze unwaveringly for a moment, then looks away, feeling, for some inexplicable reason, completely naked before him—as if he could read all of her thoughts, and she could hide nothing from him. She then begins to avoid looking in his direction at all, although her thoughts cannot help but wander towards the power he wields.

————

IV.

She doesn't think she could ever understand why wizards we always so delusional, or why they would think she would like to engage in any sort of activities with them, but what nags her just a little as she makes her way outside is why she is so unnerved by it this time. The only thing that had stopped her from creating a scene inside had been Narcissa’s hand upon her own, guiding her away from that absolute lunatic who had thought that he could lay his hands on her. She knows that if she had stayed, she would have forgotten her mother’s strong words telling her to be nice and cursed him into oblivion in a fit of recklessness. Instead, she lets her impulsiveness guide her to goodness knows where.

She is rather startled, however, when she finds herself in one of the numerous Dungeons the Black Manor has. This in itself is not surprising—she has found herself here when she is troubled more times than she’d care to count. She is more astonished at the other occupant of the Dungeons, the Dark Lord, who seems to be looking for something amidst the forgotten mass of no doubt priceless objects in it. He turns around scowling before he notices her near the entrance to the chamber, and his lips curl into a smile which she by now has memorised.

She thinks about the events of the evening for a moment—none of them pleasant—and about how much she hates living a life so subdued and fancies that her reckless streak has probably now reached its peak, if what she is about to do is any indication. She feels as if she is high on Liquid Luck when she further approaches the dark lord.

“I would like to join your cause, My Lord, if I am welcome.” her voice is controlled, and she tries to hide the hope in it, although he probably sees it anyway.

The Dark Lord is not surprised, not that she had expected him to be—she is sure he sees all of her, knows her intentions and all of her past, and she knows it to be true when his smile becomes larger. He studies her for a moment, and it she has to physically restrain herself from fidgeting under his scrutiny. His voice is quiet when he speaks, but it carries over to her smoothly,

“Our cause, Bella, welcomes anyone who wishes to cleanse the Wizarding World, anyone who wants to take from the infiltrators of our world what is rightfully ours.” he pauses slightly “And you, so young, so full of ambition and power… A true Slytherin, a worthy addition to our noble cause.”

Bella feels as if someone is gently guiding her left hand forward and slipping her sleeve backwards until the smooth skin of her left forearm is exposed, and then, suddenly there is pain so sharp she can barely think around it. It doesn't even occur to her to scream. And just as suddenly as it had started, the pain subsides and there is a black mark over the expanse of her inner forearm that depicts a snake protruding from a skull. She has been branded.

————

It probably would've done her some good to see if she were being followed, but Bella hadn't bothered to do so in her angered state and this fact is increasingly made clear by her mother’s scream—which is more terrified and outraged than she has ever heard it to be—and all too suddenly, it seems that Bella is finally coming down from her high streak and reality is finally starting to sink in again.

She has gotten herself branded. Father would skin her alive. The Dark Lord merely looks vaguely amused and walks out of the Dungeons, saying something to her father who has just arrived at the scene and who is only half listening to whatever his wife or his master are saying to him, his eyes transfixed to the mark on her left arm.

The party is cut short after this, and Bella sees her mother collapse on the staircase which connects the Dungeons to the upper floors, pretty sure that by now, Parkinson and Greengrass would have already spread the word and all of the aristocratic wizarding families of Britain would know of her deed. She doesn't try to go talk to anyone, opting instead to sit down where she is, not caring about her expensive robes. She doesn't feel as horrified by her actions as everyone is making them out to be. In fact, as she sits there waiting for her parents to come punish her for what she had done—which she knows they will—she feels better than she has in a long time. She’s their own daughter and blood after all—pure blood. What is the worst that they'll do?

————

VI.

She finds out quickly enough that the worst that they can do is nothing to be laughed at, all without spilling a single drop of blood. Her family, including herself, all dabble in dark magic. What was she expecting, really? Her father fires a number of curses at her that she cannot name, all of which are undeniably all dark, and the pain she feels at this instant is like the pain she felt at the time of being branded, except ten times stronger. Probably powerful enough to cause serious damage to her body and mind. When it seems that her father is through with torturing her, she lies curled up on the floor, breathing heavily while trying to find the energy to stand and take herself to her bedroom.

It is because of this pause in her torture that when it first hits her, she is taken by complete shock, her body feeling like every part of it is on fire. She had been so preoccupied by the pain that she hadn't even heard the incantation, the Crucio her mother sends her way making her collapse and wither on the ground of the dungeon, reduced to begging for mercy. She thinks it is bad the first time, but her mother promises her it’s only a small portion of what is yet to come. She isn't lying. The second and the third and the fourth, and however many number of times Druella curses her daughter it feels as if a hundred, thousand knives are being used to cut her body, to stab it, and then as if those are all being twisted in for good measure.

Bella thinks that by the time it ends, early in the morning, she might’ve been reduced to begging not only for mercy, but for her life. She still has all of her limbs attached—although moving them even slightly causes destructive amounts of pain—and all she does is lie on the floor of the chamber, hardly moving or making noise.

All of this pain at the cost of one decision that she had taken for herself, but this is a decision that she refuses to regret, a decision that will feed her hunger for power and ambition for the rest of her life. She is a Death Eater now, and she is going to be following Lord Voldemort’s footsteps through a path of death and destruction. And now that she’s felt what it’s like to be on the receiving end of all those curses she has only before fired in her head at anyone who tried to patronize her, she knows that this is what she wants for all of who try to objectify her or trade her or try to use her to feel.

She wants them to beg to her for mercy much the same way she had, every last one of them, and now that she’s seen in between bouts of pain how much pleasure it gives to the caster, she knows that she’ll feel this euphoria every time she casts these spells.

One thing Bellatrix Black does decide while still lying on the ground of the Dungeon is that it is this euphoria she wants to know and feel every time, like she had felt about the feel of liquid luck running through her veins the previous night. And she will stop at nothing to satiate this bloodlust or to reach those much greater levels of power. She has carved out a path of Ambition and Power, and nothing could stop her from following it anymore.

————

A/N: I tried to show (although I don’t think it’s all that obvious) that the slightly manic version of Bella that we see sets in after she is tortured by Cygnus and Druella, as a result of her Crucification. Yes. Like she did to the Longbottoms.

#harry potter #Bellatrix Lestrange #Bellatrix Black #IWSC Season 1 #Harry Potter Fanfiction #Slytherin #Death Eaters #Voldemort #Bellamort #IWSC

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fatedepravityorder-archive · 5 years

Note

//drabble: A continuation of Jalter with the sensitivity potion, and perhaps a playful master?

Send me “Drabble” and a topic/word and the mun will do their best to write a story/musing about it and their muse!

(x) (x) (x)

“You know, you could ask Mata Hari for pointers if you’re planning on stripping”

Jalter’s heart almost sank down to her stomach as she heard the familiar voiceHeat rushed up to her face harder than most of the flames she had used, the sheer fact of the matter, the sensitivity of her collarbone was bad enough, the shirt refusing to stay off it and she had to brush against it every now and then to fix it

It was a torturous walk, making her feel like she was masturbating in public as she edged herself to prevent an incident in the middle of the hallway And her hopes of actually reaching her room safely were utterly crushed as she heard and recognized her master’s voice speaking from behind her

She had an image to uphold however, so she did as much as she could to calm her raging arousal and begging for release as she turned around to face him��only to get even more flustered as a result as she noticed that he wasn’t even facing her from the startInstead his face was almost buried in a spreadsheet and he just continued moving forward

In the time it took Jalter to turn around, as short as it was, Gudao had been next to her, within distance for her to hear his exhales, though that may have just been heightened senses spawned by arousalShe saw his blue eyes turn to her, acknowledging in full that she was there even more than his joke about stripping had done“Poke”And in the next moment, she found herself falling to the floor

Her outfit was not her usual armor, there was no reason to wear it inside Chaldea of course, but it had been a simple black T-Shirt with shorts, thigh high leggings and shoes. It was a rather casual outfit, soft, easy to wear, comfortable… And it meant the entire thump made on her impact to the floor had been her own and rather muffled

She hadn’t tripped, she wasn’t thrown, instead her legs simply gave out on her, Gudao having poked her in the collarbone with a paradoxical rough softness, pushing her over the edge, all but launching her eyes to the back of her head in an explosion of ecstasy and an almost full ahegao as minutes of edging were undone in one massive orgasm that stained her shorts at the crotch And that was nothing to say of the moan which echoed through most of Chaldea, empowered by the lungs of a heroic spirit

“Need a hand?” Gudao ducked down, offering his arm to help Jeanne get up a few moments after the moan, a short few moments actually after her eyes went back down, unfocused but at least no longer in ahegaoAnd then he got hit straight across the face as Jalter tried to slap him but instead just backhanded him “Ow…”

“BaaaAastard!?” The floor wasn’t helping her situation, another moan escaping her as gravity was pressing her down on the currently most erogenous zone and against the floor. Given the small twitching of her hips, she likely came again as she spoke “How… Why…” She tried to push herself up

“I’m your master~ Of course I know—” He had to dodge a kick this time as Jalter leaned her body against the door to her room in a sitting position, the previously goal denied to her when she was so close to it “Merlin told me” He admitted “They also gave me this list of things I could do to you~”Gudao waved the previously thought to be spreadsheet in a rather dorky manner, only for Jalter to make a sword of fire and piercing the paper, burning it to ash with a clearly outraged expression

The master(s) of Chaldea were rather strange like that, often called cat like. They could go from near predators, carnivores, to absolutely foolish virgins within the span of a secondA fact proven once by Gudao admitting to how he knew compared to the rather cool air he had about him as he walked; and now proven again as he let go of the burning piece of paper, letting his hand continue forward along Jalter’s arm, grabbing her by the elbow and pushing himself to her in a smooth movement With the distance closed, he simply leaned against and into her neck, his chin pressing down directly on her collar

It was a full assault and Jalter was unable to do anything about it, the outrage and general rage she felt melting away as she felt his lips press onto her neck, his mouth opening, brushing and grinding into her in an action that made her squirm against the door, even rising her body a little as she tried to escape it, only to press him further into the overly sensitive spot and making her orgasm again

Gudao’s free hand slipped in, his other still holding Jalter by the elbow but going back down to her wrist now that the fire was no longer a threat; his free hand had moved down, into her wet shorts and stopping against her panties, feeling them absolutely soaked

Jalter breathed heavily, trying to actually catch her breath as her mind was swimming, a feeling of humiliation overtaking most everything else in her mind, feeling Gudao kissing, licking, sucking on her neck, pressed against the new weak spot, his hand on her crotch, stroking her pussy against the wet panties that stuck to her and continued to make a small puddle of sorts, even if barely noticeable, getting driven up the door so helplesslyAnd then his head moved away

“Too easy”Gudao’s hand moved out from her shorts, his fingers and palm coated in her juices as the wet hand grabbed her by the chin, pulling her head up to meet him eye to eye, her breath hot, steamy and heavy“It would be too easy to fuck you like this. So if you want it, you’ll have to find me again when you’re in a better state and start it yourself, dear”He leaned his head, locking them in a kiss for a few moments, extended to an eternity to her mind before he pulled back, giving her a final smile as he walked away

She wasn’t left denied, given she climaxed over half a dozen times in total or at least an equivalent to that; but she was left unsatisfied, longing, wanting, humiliated and embarrassedShe tried to hate him for it, but actually calling him out on it would put her in a worse situation in terms of humiliation. She would be playing right into his hand and she couldn’t bring herself to do itSo she simply stayed there on the floor, panting and trying to get her bearings back while she still had some decency left

#simplylewdous

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kittae · 7 years

Text

The Witch Switch

pairing: Yoongi x reader

genre: witch!AU, catshifter/catfamiliar!Yoongi, very low-key hogwarts!AU

word count: 8321 (help me)

A/N: started off as a halloween drabble but escalated. sorry for the slight delay! special thanks to my love @dailydoseofdia for helping me out when i got stuck!

MASTERLIST

⟶ Halloween prompts masterlist

⟶ Halloween prompts WIPs

“And how exactly do you see this plan working out? Let me have a peek inside that walnut-sized brain of yours and tell me which part has convinced you that this is a great idea.”

“You know, if you’re just here to lounge around and raid my stash of catnip while making sassy comments, you can leave again, Yoongi. Go scare some mortals or something.”

“That only works on friday the 13th, you know that. Besides, i’m already on my seventh life, gotta lay low for a bit.”

You scoffed, glaring at your familiar when it was clear he had no intention of getting off your couch while he nibbled on your last leaves of catnip, his jet black ears twitching in contentment. You’d told him not to come to your lab when you were working unless you needed his help but you’d never actually expected him to listen.

“Then go get high in your room, Yoongi. I need to concentrate for this to work and you’re constantly distracting me with your nagging.” You grumbled irritably, cutting up some Lacewing flies and adding them to the cauldron of boiling broth.

“No can do. If i’m not here to protect you, who will?”

“Protect me from what? You’re a cat, get over yourself.”

“From your own idiocy. Seriously, making a glow-up potion hoping some sleazy guy would notice you? That’s pathetic, ___.” Yoongi rolled his eyes at you, but couldn’t keep a low and contrasting purr from reverberating through his chest when the catnip started to kick in.

“It’s either that or a love potion and considering all the horror stories i’ve heard about those, the choice was easily made. Besides, Park Jimin is not sleazy. Where could you possibly get that idea from?”

“Oh, i don’t know, maybe from the fact he doesn’t spare a glance your way and only talks to you when he needs your notes from transfigurations class because he was too busy making out with Lavinia Argent underneath the quidditch bleachers.”

“That’s a rumor and you know it.” You growled underneath your breath as you tried your hardest to stay calm while you were carefully weighing the ground dragon claw to the milligram, sweat beading at your temples as it always did when you didn’t want to mess up.

“Not really, i was bored when i went for a stroll outside and i caught them actually shoving their tongues down each other’s thr-”

“If you’re going to be a nuisance, do me a favour and shift back to your full cat form so you’d at least be cute while you’re at it.”

Gasping dramatically, he sat up, a hand clenched to his chest. “Are you implying i’m not cute in this form? You’re a worse liar than you are a witch and that’s saying something.”

You were getting more than fed up with your feline companion’s unnecessary remarks and although you could usually enjoy this kind of banter between the two of you, he was pushing it too far and you were not in the mood.

After slamming down the bottle of cowbane infusion you just angrily dashed a generous amount of into your concoction, you grabbed your plant sprayer from the top shelf. Very effective in both watering your vervain and expelling obnoxious cats. From the moment he spotted the plastic bottle, his ears stood up straight along with the hairs on his neck, his tail thick and swaying and a hiss slipping through his bared teeth when you came closer.

“Don’t you fucking dare, ___! I just washed myself!”

“Need a round two?” You grinned as you threatened him, spraying water in his direction from afar and already making him squirm in his seat.

As you were both too busy pestering each other, neither of you noticed the cauldron leaking over and turning a more bright pink than it was supposed to…

A blood-curdling scream teared through the house, disturbing Yoongi’s peaceful slumber as he almost fell from his favourite sleeping spot; the top of your closet. He preferred to sleep in his cat form, his body being more flexible and his senses incredibly heightened, making every little noise at least ten times more prominent. Much to his dismay, in cases like these.

“___? What’s happening?” he groaned, shifting back to his predominantly human form, grabbing some sweats from the floor and putting them on as he walked towards the direction where the sound presumably came from.

“___?”

No matter how many times he called your name, you were nowhere to be found. He was pretty sure the scream came from the bathroom, but why weren’t you there? He started thinking he must’ve heard it wrong when he checked the shower as well before going back to your bedroom and continuing his investigation through the house, when he flexed his ears and finally heard it.

“Yoongi! Yoongi, i’m here! Down below! Look down!” he heard the squeaky pleading voice from underneath the sink, almost toppling over when he finally noticed the miniature human creature tugging on the bottom of his sweatpants.

“___?! Is that you? What have you done?!”

Tears were streaming down your tiny face as you looked up at your loyal familiar, whose eyes were wide as saucers while he towered over you, cupping his hands on the floor in front of you in an invitation which you begrudgingly took. You were so small you could easily fit into one of his big hands, with its long and slender fingers. You felt ashamed, your pride infinitely hurt as he brought you back up and set you down on the countertop.

“It-It’s the potion, I-I think i f-fucked up, Yoongi.” You sobbed hysterically, hiding your face with your hands because the last thing you wanted was for him to see you like this. You were supposed to take care of him, not the other way around. This was not what you had expected to be the outcome when you took a sip of your self-made brew this morning.

“Of course you fucked up, you lousy little witch.” he smiled compassionately, carefully stroking your hair with his pinky. Damn, you were freaking tiny. “I guess you were a bit too enthusiastic with the cowbane infusion, huh? Why did you put that in there anyway?”

“I- Jimin doesn’t like it when girls are taller than h-him, so…” you muttered, beyond embarrassed. You’d only meant to put a little in there, just enough to make you shrink ten centimeters or so, but getting all worked up over Yoongi’s comments had probably made you pour way too much of it into the cauldron. You felt like Alice after she’d drank the ‘drink me’ potion and you didn’t like it at all. “What do i do now?! I need to leave for school in two hours!”

Yoongi had completely forgotten that your break was over and you’d be returning back to school and the dorms starting today. The more he thought about it, the more it started to dawn on him. You’d probably wanted to return to school a better and improved version of yourself after this break, making everyone’s including Jimin’s jaws drop. Ridiculous. How were you going to keep that up for the rest of the year?

“That’s simple, don’t go to school until the effects wear off.” he shrugged as if it was the most logical reasoning anyone could come up with in this kind of situation, but you dared to disagree.

“I look fucking ridiculous! And those stockings will make me want to murder someone by noon if they keep itching like crazy!”

Yoongi’s countless complaints had long turned to background noise while you were still marveling over his transformation. You never knew you could look so hot, not even with a glow-up potion! In fact…was it possible to turn gay for yourself?! Were you a narcissist if you couldn’t stop staring at yourself, but if it wasn’t really you?

One of the great things about cat familiars is that they are pretty powerful witches themselves, as they are able to perform a great deal of spells and being natural metamorphmagi. However, you’d never expected Yoongi to do so well in transforming into the spitting image of yourself, aside from the bright, emerald green eyes. Actually, he was much more beautiful than you were and you found it very difficult to keep your eyes off him, not knowing why exactly that was.

“I’m not sure if i put your bra on the right way, it’s so straining! It actually hurts! Why can’t you just let the girls breathe a little, huh? Let them get some fresh air-”

“No chance, you’re keeping the bra on. And stop looking down my- i mean your shirt! You’re violating my privacy enough as it is.” you scolded him as loud as your squeaky voice would let you, your cheeks blushing up a storm and you were glad they were so small, Yoongi would barely notice.

“You’re the one who made me do this in the first place, so don’t give me that crap. By the way, honey, these are definitely not yours.” he scoffed while buttoning your shirt back up and fair enough, for some reason Yoongi’s version of you went up a cup size.

“Anyway, the potion should wear off between 48 and 72 hours so i need you to act as normal as possible during that time and not draw any attention to yourself whatsoever, okay? Can you do that?”

“Is there anyone who knows you better than i do, ___?” Yoongi threw you a playful wink before hiking up your skirt way above the generally accepted three-fingers-above-the-knee. “Don’t worry about it.”

You’ve never been more worried in your entire life.

Not even an hour into the train ride to campus, your worries proved to be justified. Because out of all the days you could run into the one and only Park Jimin, it had to be today.

You were hidden away in Yoongi’s pocket, starting to doze off when suddenly a voice you’d recognize out of thousands of others startled you awake as it sounded through the small cabin you usually shared with Yoongi and no one else.

“Hi,___! Mind if i join you?” You heard Jimin say in his soft and sweet tone and you groaned inwardly. You could already picture his sugar sweet eye smile with those words and you couldn’t believe your name was one of them.

You got ready to answer him when you realized you couldn’t, and when seconds kept passing by in silence without an answer from Yoongi either, anxiety started to creep up on you. What was he doing?!

“Um…___?” Jimin snickered, although there was a slight hint of insecurity and awkwardness to be detected in his voice. Damn it, why was he so cute! So soft! Why wasn’t Yoongi answering him?!

You couldn’t take it anymore, so you took a deep breath before you pinched him harshly in the side. You didn’t know whether he took over your sensitivity when he transformed into you or not, but it was worth a shot.

When he jumped up, making a strangled sound in an attempt to keep the cuss words down, you knew it had worked.

“Sorry, this cabin’s full.” Yoongi said in your signature, silky-soft voice you’d practiced hours and hours on in front of your mirror in case Jimin would talk to you and you’d be impressed with how spot on the performance was if it wasn’t for the actual words he spoke in it.

“Really? Aren’t you the only one sitting here, though?” the biggest crush of your entire life chuckled light-hearted when he entered the cabin anyway, moving to sit down in front of Yoongi and-

“No, don’t! You’re gonna crush it!” Yoongi exclaimed, voice distraught as if something horrible was about to happen.

“Oh, shit- sorry! W-what’s there?” you heard Jimin stutter, obviously startled. You knew he couldn’t see you anyway but you wanted the ground to swallow you whole regardless. He thought Yoongi was you, and Yoongi was making a god damn mess.

“Can you keep a secret?” your shameless familiar continued and you felt your cheeks heating up even more than before when for some reason, it sounded like he was playing coy with Jimin. What was with the tone he was using?! You never used that tone with anyone, much less Jimin!

Even from inside Yoongi’s pocket, you could see the way Jimin leaned over until Yoongi’s lips were at his ear and you would’ve fainted about ten times if it were you instead of your cat. You didn’t want to watch this, but you also couldn’t look away and were you mistaken or did you see a hint of red colouring jimin’s cheeks and ears as well? Then, Yoongi spoke again.

“It’s none of your business. Get out.” he whispered the words, and it would’ve been offensive if it didn’t sound so fucking sexy. Honestly, he could’ve said something along the lines of ‘let me suck your dick’ in that kind of voice and it would’ve made total sense and you’d never wanted to kick your familiar’s ass as much as you did right in that moment.

“I- I see. I’m just gonna- yeah.” Jimin nearly tripped over his own words, for all you knew he could be tripping over his own feet too, as he scurried out of the compartment. “So, um…I’ll see you around then,___.”

The sound of the door sliding shut was your cue to crawl out of Yoongi’s pocket, so ready to curse him to the moon and back, although that proved to be difficult while he was roaring with laughter.

“What’s so funny?! You probably scared him away forever, you jerk!” your tiny fists hammered against his arm, tears pricking in your eyes, but for him it probably only felt like a stupid fly was bumping into him. He’d ruined everything. Jimin was probably so freaked out he won’t even talk to you about borrowing your notes anymore, shattering every chance you had left to talk to him.

“___, relax! You really don’t know anything about men, do you?” Yoongi chuckled, carefully placing you on the armrest next to him. “I just did you a huge favour. You should thank me instead of glaring at me all the time.”

“How in the hell was that doing me a favour, Yoongi?”

For the longest time, you thought he was just going to keep grinning at you like a lunatic, before he finally answered, “I just made that boy whipped for you.”

If you thought the worst was behind you after the incident on the train, you were in for another surprise. You’d met up with your best friend so you could go back to the dorms together, seeing as you were also roommates it only seemed logical. Well, that was before Yoongi was you and you were the size of a teacup.

“Yoongi, i need you to listen to me, okay? Listen to me very good. You can not use my body as an excuse to-”

“-be overly physically affectionate with your hot best friend? You seem to forget a minor detail, though,” he murmured when he shoved you back in his pocket before waving at your friend as she was already running across the courtyard, “It’s still my own body.”

“Yuna, hey!” Yoongi’s voice raised an octave or two when your best friend wrapped her arms around him because girls get all squeaky-voiced when they get excited, right? Hearing it from an outsider’s point of view for once, you kind of understood how some people thought it could be…obnoxious.

“___! How was your break, did you do something fun? Did you get-” Yuna’s words died in her throat when she released Yoongi from her tight embrace, finally getting a good look at him and noticing the green eyes, the healthier and more voluminous hair, the ridiculously flawless skin… “Oh my god.”

This was it, you were getting found out. How stupid could you actually be, expecting your best friend in the whole world not to see right through this scam?! She knew you so well, of course she wouldn’t fall for it-

“You really did it?! The glow-up potion i told you about! You look amazing, i never thought it would work that well! Then again, you’re really good at potions…” Yoongi had to hold down a snicker at that comment, pursing his lips together while your best friend rambled in awe as she couldn’t help herself and touched Yoongi’s face all over as if she needed to confirm this was real, playing with his hair and marveling over how soft it suddenly was. “Woah, Jimin will be all over you. Oh and i like the green contacts, nice touch.”

“Oh, thanks! Yeah, i’m so glad with how it turned out. Good thing nothing went wrong, right? Can you imagine?” the sly cat was secretly giving you a massive burn and you could feel your blood starting to boil in your tiny veins when he was laughing and giggling with your friend, but that was nothing compared to the sheer audacity of his next move.

“Say, Yuna, you think you could get us into the prefect’s bathroom again? I feel like soaking in some bubbles while catching up a little, you know,” Yoongi hooked his arm around Yuna’s and pulled her closer like he knew you always did, “just us girls.”

Oh how you wished you were your regular size so you could grab him by the scruff! You never should’ve told him about how Yuna and you used to sneak into the prefect’s bathroom so you could enjoy the hot water and different lotions in a bathtub the size of a small swimming pool. He’s going to pay for this when you get back to normal!

“Aw, it’s been so long since we’ve last done that! I’m in but you’re gonna have to share some of that glow-up potion because i’ll be looking like a potato next to you now!” Yuna whined and knowing her, she wasn’t actually joking around. Not a hundred percent. You really hoped she wasn’t serious about trying the potion because there was no potion.

“Girl, stop it! Trust me, you don’t need some stupid potion, i’d bang your brains out if i were a guy!”

Another wave of girly giggling followed and you thought you were actually going to be sick.

“You can’t! I forbid you!”

“How are you going to forbid me anything right now,___? You’re literally the size of a tangerine.”

“Min Yoongi i swear to fucking-” You balled your mini fists and took deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down. “You are not going to sit in the same bath as my best friend while you’re both butt naked and she doesn’t know it’s not me in that body.”

“But i was only going to look–”

“If you were ever planning on doing more than that i might actually have to skin you alive, you nasty tomcat!”

Yoongi sighed dramatically before flopping himself down on your bed in starfish position.

“Fine, i’ll call bath time with Yuna off, but it’s really not fair how i constantly have to act like you and i’m not even getting anything out of this whole debacle.”

“It’s your fault we are in this situation in the first place, so no treats for you. And for the last time, Yoongi, close your legs! You’re wearing a skirt!”

“My fault? How is this all my fault? You’re shit at potions and you screwed up, deal with it.” he shrugged, defying you by spreading his legs even wider and giving you a full frontal view of your kitten print panties.

“But you were distracting me with your annoying yapping!” you countered, cheeks flushed again even though you shouldn’t be feeling embarrassed by being exposed to your own body. You’ll never get used to this and you hoped that you’ll never again have to after this.

“Blaming it on the cat now, are you? Very mature, ___.”

You were opening your mouth to give him a snappy answer back when you heard the door handle turn from the other side, making a mental note to continue this conversation later when you were alone again when Yoongi hurried to put you away in your safe and hidden travel spot in the pocket of his blazer, before Yuna walked in on, well, pocket-sized you.

“___? I’ve been looking for you, we have transfigurations in fifteen minutes, remember?”

Of course Yoongi wouldn’t remember because he usually sleeps all day when you’re in class and the only times he cares about your schedule is when you leave and when you come back, and you completely forgot about class as you were too busy trying to manage current events and keeping Yoongi and your reputation out of trouble.

“Ah, sure! I’ll be there in a second!” Yoongi answered your best friend the exact same way you would’ve and while you were happy he wouldn’t draw any suspicion this way, it was also creeping you out how effortlessly he could copy your entire personality, if he wanted to. Sometimes, it seemed like he was even better at being you than you were.

You did not look forward to Yoongi attending class as you, though. You weren’t worried about the magical aspect, considering he was actually a really talented witch. He could perform most spells you were taught in class and if he didn’t know the answer to a textbook question, you could just whisper it to him from inside his pocket. What you were worried about, though, was his attitude.

Especially when it came to Jimin.

“Hey, ___!” Jimin greeted Yoongi cheerfully and much like earlier that morning, you could hardly believe the fact Jimin was actually talking to you- you mean Yoongi directly for the second time in the same day! You completely lost it when you took a peek and saw him sitting down on the seat next to you. You wanted to jump up and down in excitement, but that would be difficult inside the pocket of a blazer.

“Seat’s taken.” was Yoongi’s clipped response, the epitome of disinterest as he didn’t even glance up when Jimin spoke, too occupied inspecting his perfect manicure.

“Oh, is there another one of those invisible creatures sitting here? What are they called?” the blonde prince asked, genuinely curious. Not a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He actually believed that stunt Yoongi pulled in the train this morning?

Yoongi just ignored his question because making up an entire new species was too much of a hassle and you’d be in trouble after all this had blown over. So he went for the next best excuse.

“Yuna’s sitting next to me.”

“But Yuna’s already sitting next to Taehyung, so” Jimin beamed while he flopped down on the chair beside yours, “I’ll be your study buddy for today!”

You could already imagine how Yuna set this up as a ploy, knowing how crazy you are about Jimin and probably being convinced you had all the confidence you needed now, after drinking ‘the potion’. You knew she meant well, but she couldn’t have had any worse timing in her matchmaking. You listened to the conversation between your familiar and your crush and you were dying inside. What the hell did Yoongi mean by ‘making Jimin whipped for you’, when he was only going to be mean and distant towards him?!

“You’re not getting my notes.” Yoongi sighed in exasperation while he moved his hands up to tie his hair back in a ponytail, keeping the hair tie between his lips as he looked up at jimin from underneath his eyelashes.

You heard Jimin gulp a few times before clearing his throat. “I- that…That’s not what i’m here for.”

Yoongi just lazily laid his cheek to rest on his hand, tilting his head to the side and blinking innocently. “Hmm? Then what do you want, Park?”

To be honest, you didn’t know what you’d expected Jimin to answer to that as you waited with bated breath, but it certainly wasn’t this.

“I want to take you on a date and get to know you better.”

You had spent years and years trying to make Park Jimin notice you and now your damn cat was your substitute, he suddenly seemed to be everywhere. You didn’t think you’d seen him as many times in all these years as you did on today alone, much to Yoongi’s annoyance.

“When will he leave? Doesn’t he have things to do? Hang out with his douchey friends or something?” he complained when he took refuge inside the girls’ bathroom, if only to get a few peaceful minutes without having to “coincidentally” run into your stupid crush every ten seconds.

“It’s your own fault for storming off without giving him an answer!” you angrily countered, more than frustrated with your familiar’s stubborn behaviour. He knew you were dying to go out with Jimin, so why couldn’t he just say yes?!

“I thought that in itself was a pretty clear answer.”

“It wasn’t! And why are you rejecting him when you know i want to go out with him?”

“Exactly! You want to go out with him, not me!”

“Please, Yoongi.” you pouted as you tugged on his sleeve, “Just…agree to the date and stall it until i’m back to normal?”

Yoongi looked like he was seriously contemplating it, watching your little, pleading eyes staring up at him like he was your last hope. He gave in with a long and tormented sigh.

“Fine. I’ll string him along a little longer… As long as i don’t have to date the guy myself.”

“Trust me, i wouldn’t even want you to.” you snorted, crossing your arms and looking the other way to try and hide your slightly flushed cheeks. You couldn’t deny Yoongi was better at this stuff than you were. It looked like he had Jimin wrapped around his finger already and it’s only been one day, while after years of sharing classes you couldn’t even go up to him to return his pencil when he’d lended it to you once.

“Good.” he shrugged, fixing his hair in the mirror before putting you away again. “Let’s go, then.”

Truth be told, you were getting a little sick of being carried around like a freaking keychain, but staying in your room and doing nothing while letting Yoongi walk around in ‘your’ body wasn’t an option. You had to know what he was doing, when he was doing it and most importantly, you had to keep his sharp tongue in check before he scared Jimin away forever.

Speak of the devil…

“What are you doing standing outside the girls’ bathroom, Park? Aren’t you a little too old to sneak a peek?”

Yoongi only just stepped outside of the ladies room and there he was again, met with the blonde boy that raked his hair back as he smiled so bright, the sun would be jealous. Yoongi hated it when the sun shone in his eyes, but in contrast to this guy’s stupid, happy eyesmile, at least he could wear sunglasses to block the rays. He had yet to find a way to block this kind of unwanted brightness from his eyes, seeing as being an evasive bitch didn’t really seem to work.

“I saw you going in there and I thought… I know you’ve been avoiding me, ___, and i hope i didn’t freak you out by asking you out on the first day of the new semester but… Just go on one date with me and i promise you i won’t waste your time.”

Yoongi just stood there waiting until Jimin was finished speaking, hip stuck out and fingers impatiently tapping his arms after he’d crossed them, eyes rolling and lips pursed as he prepared himself to accept this douchebag’s request. His list of favourite pastimes included napping, grooming, teasing you, napping, getting petted by you, playing with yarn balls and napping. There were a lot more things on his not-to-do list. This, however, was on his never-again-or-i’ll-stab-someone list. Still, he tried to remember that this was important to you and seeing you unhappy was something he’d like even less. He just had to bite through the sour apple and then he could go back to ignoring this dumb dude.

“Sure, can’t wait.” and Jimin might as well just have been talking to a robot with the way Yoongi answered him in the most monotone voice he could manage, his expression flat as a pancake as he made an effort not to let out a long, exasperated sigh.

It didn’t seem to deter Jimin at all, though. If possible, quite the contrary.

“R-really? Awesome!” Jimin beamed, eyes wide in slight disbelief, “When do you have time? Where would you like to go? There’s this really good Italian restaurant in the village downhill and-”

“Just do whatever.” Yoongi murmured irritably, ready to spin around on his heels and bounce until a well-aimed pinch to his side reminded him of the task at hand. He couldn’t let Jimin choose the time of the date in case you hadn’t turned back to normal by then. “I mean, i guess in two days or something.”

You sighed in relief when Yoongi corrected himself. Two days from now should be about enough time for you to regain your usual size. The recipe said it should wear off between 24 and 72 hours after drinking the potion, so you should be safe.

“Okay, great! What time do i pick you u-”

“Man, go bother someone else with your stupid questions.” Yoongi snapped when it was getting too much, finally turning around and walking away, not up for staying longer than was absolutely necessary. He just realized that he didn’t just not like this Jimin guy, he decided he couldn’t fucking stand him.

“Alright! I’ll pick you up at eight! In two days!” Jimin yelled after Yoongi, who was already way down the hall by that time, and you didn’t miss how excited he sounded. Your heart was racing in your chest, adrenaline almost bursting through your veins. You didn’t think you’ve ever felt more happy in your entire life!

And so the next day went by, and it was most likely the worst day in Yoongi’s life, excluding that one day you accidentally turned him into a fucking bullfrog and the cats next door tried to kill him.

It was one thing for Jimin to always just be there everywhere he went, like he was his shadow or something, but it’s a whole other when he was constantly trying to flirt in his own weird and creepy ways. He hated pumpkin spiced lattes, but he hated the heart-shaped latte art he found at your spot on the breakfast table the next morning infinitely more. The questions and interrogations that followed by your peers gave him a pounding headache. Next up was the singing heart origami, almost giving him a heart attack when he opened your locker and it flew out and sang a ballad from the top of its non-existent lungs. It wouldn’t stop singing until he shredded it to tiny pieces.

After a whole day of similar romantic gestures that felt more like pranks to him, Yoongi collapsed on your bed, worn-out and disgusted.

“I wish i was in my cat form right now.” he groaned pathetically, and you were actually starting to take pity on him when you watched him try to groom himself in human form, but it wasn’t the same and showers were his worst nightmare.

“Why don’t you just shift? Yuna’s at her club activities all night so she won’t be back any time soon.”

Yoongi glared at you at that, eyes squeezed to slits, “I can’t. I’m afraid i might eat you.”

“You- you what?” you chortled at his unexpected answer.

“You’re so tiny! I don’t know if i’ll be able to control my instincts when you’re just out there being the size of a mouse!”

You just snorted and rolled your eyes. “Stop whining and shift, Yoongi. You’re not going to eat me, idiot, just take a stroll through campus, go outside for a bit, catch some real mice. I think you might actually explode if you don’t get some cat time soon.”

“I really think so too.” he admitted, making you nod sympathetically.

“Just put me back in my drawer bed so i can take a nap while you’re gone and you can go.”

It had been a long time since Yoongi felt so incredibly liberated! He really took his cat form for granted sometimes, he realized, as he absorbed all the stimuli around him he could. The sharp vision and hearing, the incredible smells, the heightened reflexes. Humans really were sad creatures, actually, their senses having been so dulled over thousands of years of ‘evolution’ they barely know about all the things going on around them.

A cat’s hearing range is five times that of a human and because of that, Yoongi was able to pick up some noises coming from the men’s bathroom in the hall. He recognized the noise as a familiar voice and it didn’t take him too long to identify it as none other than your all time crush, Park Jimin.

Being awfully curious about what your love interest was doing at this time, in a bathroom in an empty hallway, Yoongi decided to eavesdrop on the conversation being held between four walls.

Listening to what was being said between Jimin and his friend with the baritone voice he recognized as one he’d heard in class before, he finally understood where the saying ‘curiosity killed the cat’ came from.

“___! ___, wake up!” Yoongi stormed inside your bedroom, slightly panting and in his own human form as he took you out of the drawer of your desk and placed you on the bed before him.

“Wha- Yoongi, calm down! What’s wrong, why are you in…this form? What happened?” you babbled, still sleep-drunk and your mind working incredibly slow to wake up.

“Don’t go out with Jimin tomorrow.”

“What?! What’s gotten into you, of course i’m going! I’ve wanted this since freshman year!” Yoongi’s words were like a bucket of ice being dropped on your head, waking you up instantly, but confusing you all the more.

“I’m serious, ___, you have to trust me.” Yoongi stared down at you, his eyes dead serious and bearing a very present look of panic.

“Why?! What happened?!” you started yelling now, not that anyone but you and Yoongi could hear. You just sounded like an annoying bird or something, but you were getting seriously worried.

“I walked past the men’s bathroom and i overheard a conversation between him and- that…that guy with the low voice and the messy hair that’s in your class-”

“Taehyung.”

“Yes, Taehyung. You can’t go tomorrow.”

“Then tell me what they said! What did they say?!”

“I can’t tell you!” he sounded desperate now, beyond frustrated.

But that was nothing compared to your frustration, you were sure.

“If you can’t tell me, then i’m going.” you said, calmly, as if that was the last you wanted to hear of it.

Yoongi looked like he could start crying any second, so defeated and hopeless you couldn’t even imagine what in the world he must’ve heard to make him look like this. And why he couldn’t tell you about it.

“If you would rather trust a complete stranger that has ignored you for all those years up until yesterday, over your own loyal familiar whom you’ve been together with since you were a child and i was a kitten,” he continued, his voice raspy and his words snapping, but the fire in his eyes slowly dying, “then be my fucking guest,___. But i’m done.”

You watched him drag himself to the bed before he shifted back to his full cat form and crawled underneath the covers, as he tried not to think about tomorrow, whether or not you’ll be back to normal, trying not to think about the things he’d heard only minutes ago. He tried really hard not to be mad at you.

He knew you didn’t learn about anti-snitching spells until your last year.

Yoongi was, in fact, absolutely and one hundred percent done, as he’d said the day before. He refused to shift back to your body and go to class, even went as far as not speaking to you. Yoongi was out. He didn’t want to help you anymore, right when you needed him the most. Today was the day of your date with Jimin and the current circumstances didn’t exactly look fantastic. You were still the size of a small potato and when Yuna came home after her club activities and didn’t see you laying in bed, she started calling everyone she knew, asking if anyone had seen you as she worried sick while you were there the entire time, hiding in your desk drawer.

And you waited.

The only thing you could do was wait and hope that you were back to your normal size by eight. As the clock kept ticking and time kept going by without any result, you started to become desperate. What if it didn’t work out and you missed your one chance to be with the person you’ve been pining for for years?

“Yoongi…Yoongi, please,” you pleaded softly, scratching him behind his giant ear after you’d managed to climb onto the bed when Yuna went to class. He was like a big, black, furry monster now you were this small and you could imagine the unadulterated fear of the small wildlife he hunted very vividly. “Yoongi, we need to talk.”

His only response was a low growl, a threatening sound coming from the depths of his throat, indicating he didn’t want to talk and he was going to stay in his cat form until it was all over. He didn’t want to have anything to do with it anymore.

By 7:30, you had already given up any hope of going on your date as you were still smaller than a can of peas, until you felt a strange tingling in your stomach. You thought it was stress-bound at first, but then, gradually, the furniture around you started to look less like skyscrapers and all the other objects in your room became more and more recognizable.

“Yoongi! Yoongi, look! I’m growing again, it’s working! It’s wearing off!” you squeaked excitedly, hoping your familiar would be equally as happy to have you back in your normal size, but he just threw you an uninterested look over his shoulder before he started grooming himself, as if nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened.

You couldn’t be too bothered with his attitude now you were finally feeling like you could breathe again, especially because if you hurried up, you could still make it to your date with a few fashionably late minutes. So you jumped into the shower and did your makeup in turbo-speed, laying the last hand on your eyeliner when you heard a few knocks on your door that made your heart take a giant leap.

“Just a second!” you yelled from the bathroom, doing your best to control your trembling voice as your nerves were trying to get the better of you.

You took a last look at your hair and makeup, made sure your favourite outfit was spotless, took a deep breath or two, or three, okay four, and scurried to the front door.

You should’ve been prepared, you should’ve gotten used to it by now but you didn’t. When you opened the door, there stood a glowing Park Jimin, looking the most handsome and radiant he’s ever looked in a loose dress shirt and tight jeans, his blonde hair styled a little messy as if he just rolled out of bed after a heavy makeout session. And you were not ready. Oh, you were so not ready.

“Are you ready?” he smiled his famous, or infamous depending on how weak you were, eye smile that made your legs turn into blobs of jello as he handed you a bouquet of flowers that looked like it was made to impress. Well, it worked.

“I-yeah! Yeah, let’s go!”

Your body was tingling all over, a euphoric sensation surging through every nerve and you constantly had to remind yourself to hold down your nervous giggles when you were walking downhill to the Italian restaurant, glad Jimin talked the entire time so you didn’t have to. You couldn’t quite trust your voice yet. The walk to the village was already so romantic in itself, you felt like it was gonna be hard to top. Jimin must’ve enchanted the path because every step you two took, there were beautiful flowers blooming from the sides, fireflies accompanying you all the way and even though it was already dark outside, the birds were still singing lovely songs. Jimin wasn’t just desirable because he’s so good looking, he was also an incredibly talented wizard. He was able to perform spells and kinds of magic you didn’t even learn in school and you wondered if he wasn’t incredibly bored going to class when he already seemed to know everything.

“We’re here.” Jimin softly announced when you reached the glass doors of the small restaurant, and you nodded shyly before he guided you inside.

When you sat down at your table and the waitress brought you the menus, you still couldn’t think of anything to say to him. You were so nervous you could faint, but you had to stay strong. Maybe he’ll talk to you about something and you can just go with the flow from there. So you waited.

“Are you okay?” Jimin suddenly asked, like he was kind of joking, but the crease between his eyebrows showed he thought something really was up. “You’ve been quiet and you look a little uh…tired.”

Shit.

“Me? Yeah i’m fine. You?”

Double shit. Fuck.

“Oh, m-me? I’m…Okay. Haha.” he laughed, but even you could notice the lack of humor.

It was silent for a few minutes and it was getting painful. You needed to do something and you needed to do it quick.

“S-so…What have you done over summer break? Gone on vacation?”

Okay. That wasn’t too bad, right? Your voice seemed to be getting more stable, too. You got this.

“Nah, we didn’t go anywhere. Parents had to work and friends were gone with theirs to save money so i stayed home alone a lot. You?”

You were glad he asked because you did tons over summer break and at least this way you could keep the conversation going.

Halfway through your story, though, he whipped out his phone and started texting. First, it was only once every few minutes and he put it away after he was done. But then he didn’t even try to make it seem like he was listening to you anymore, sitting with his phone in his hand the entire time. His attempts to keep himself from grinning at those texts didn’t exactly work either. You were boring him.

You were about to cut yourself off in the middle of your sentence because what’s the point if he’s not even listening to a word you’re saying, when the waitress came back to take your orders.

“You can order anything you want.” he let you know with a small and brief smile that held no sincerity whatsoever.

“Thanks.” your voice was small and feeble, just like how you felt.

“I’ve changed my mind about the wine, can we get this one,” he pointed at somewhere on the wine card, “instead of the one i called for earlier? Oh, and a bottle of sparkling water. Thanks, sweetheart.” he winked at the cute waitress before handing her the card again.

“Very well, sir. I’ll come back to take your orders in a minute.” the waitress blushed as she took the card from him and made her way down to the kitchen. As she left, he was still watching her go with his bottom lip between his teeth for a few seconds longer.

Did he just openly flirt with that waitress or were you getting paranoid? This date was not going well, granted, but maybe you should calm yourself before making accusations.

“Which wine did you choose?” you decided to break the ice, once again, trying to come off as relaxed as possible.

“Ah, just one they recommended. A red one. You probably don’t know it.” he answered while he was reaching for his phone again.

You wanted to say something about it, but then the waitress came by again, notebook and pen in hand.

“Have you decided on your main dishes?” she asked sweetly, but not to you. She was solely looking at Jimin, giving him her best sugar smile.

“Hmmm, I don’t know…what’s good here?” Jimin answered her question with one of his own as he raked his eyes over her body so suggestively it couldn’t be missed.

“D-don’t you know, sir? You come here all the time…”

“Yeah, but i just like to hear you say it again.” he chuckled and she giggled and you felt like you weren’t even there because you were being treated as such.

You couldn’t believe this, didn’t want to believe Jimin has been like this since the day you met him, that he’s never been interested in you in the first place.

“Jimin.” you started, quietly, but were easily ignored while he and the waitress chattered away as if they were the ones on the date.

“Jimin.” you tried again, this time louder but you were still getting no reaction. you might as well have been another empty chair. And then something snapped.

You took a few deep breaths as you let the anger consume you, there was plenty of time for sadness later. Right now, you needed to accept that your long time crush is just a fucking douchebag, just like Yoongi has always said. Just like he tried to warn you not to go on this date. You needed to accept this. And you needed to say something about it.

“Jimin! Listen to me!” you raised your voice so loud even other people in the restaurant turned heads.

That did it and Jimin was finally looking at you. You got his attention back.

“What is it, ___?” he asked, coolly. As if nothing happened, although there was a slight edge to his tone this time.

“Why did you ask me on a date if you were going to be texting or flirting with the waitress the entire time?”

your voice was trembling. You weren’t sure if it was because you were trying not to cry or because you were still holding in a lot of anger and disappointment.

“___, listen-”

“No, you listen! Jimin, I-I’ve had a crush on you since freshman year and it never went away. I’ve been trying to-to get you to notice me for all these years and when the day you ask me out finally comes…You’re like this? Why would you do that?” the last sentence came out in a whisper, hurt finally starting to seep through the minor cracks in your freshly broken heart.

He sighed, irritation clearly visible on his handsome face now.

“Honestly, the reason why i was into you was because the first day we met again, in the train, you were nothing like the way you are now. You were cold, distant, beautiful, sexy. God, you were so hot, what happened?” he shook his head, confused, while he took in your current form in front of him, “You’re back to how you were before and ugh, i just- i just can’t stand you whiny, desperate bitches. You’re all the same, boring-”

His words got cut off by a glass of cheap, red wine splashing into his face. Your hand was shaking and your cheeks were stained with salty tears but you could just manage to put the glass back on the table and not drop it to the ground before you grabbed your purse and bolted out of the restaurant.

“You were right.” you murmured against the darkness after sitting yourself down on your bed, scratching Yoongi behind his furry, little ear. “About everything.”

Shifted back into his human form, aside from the ears and tails as usual, he came sitting beside you, silently pulling you into a hug and shielding you with his arms so you could let your tears fall safely.

“I know.” he whispered, but not in a condescending way. He felt sorry for being right.

“I was n-never good enough for h-him,” you hiccuped against your familiar’s shoulder while he softly stroked yours. “If i h-hadn’t fucked that p-potion up, this would’ve never h-happened and–”

“Shut up, you idiot!” He suddenly snapped, tearing you off his shoulder so you could look him in the eyes as he shook you back and forth. “Stop with that bullshit! Stop thinking changing yourself is the solution to everything! Do you even hear yourself?”

You were caught off guard, to say the least.

“I-I’m not–”

“Why would you ever want to try and change yourself? Especially for a piece of trash like Jimin? Don’t you want someone who likes you and loves you for who you are? Someone you don’t have to pretend with?”

“Yoongi…”

“You don’t have to change for anyone,___.” he softly added, his emerald eyes boring into yours. They held a lot of warmth for such a cold color. “You just need to learn how to love yourself a little more.”

You didn’t know how many emotions a person was supposed to be able to feel all at once, but you were pretty sure you would explode soon. You knew he was right but it still hurt so fucking bad not being able to make the person you like, like you back for who you are. You wanted him to like you so bad you were ready to change everything about yourself, everything you are and that thought scared you. Your heart was aching, breaking in a thousand pieces as you let the hurt do its work while your mind was already starting its healing process.

You couldn’t make everyone love you, or like you, and that was hard to accept. But you knew someone who would always love you for your own idiotic, impulsive, stubborn, sensitive and even pocket-sized self.

And now, all you needed to do was to add another person.

You.

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