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soullesscoffee · 4 years ago

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i think; therefore i am || part one

{ fem! witch reader x poly!the lost boys }

|| part two ||

part rating: teen

word count: 20716 (i am so sorry)

part summary: a nomadic witch running from her dark past (reader) finds her place after travelling the states on the shores of santa carla. in a way to make money she sets up a booth on the bustling boardwalk where she gives a few readings to a couple interesting characters for some loose change. this night she discovers she isn’t the only supernatural being.

warnings: mature language, mind manipulation, violence, use of tobacco, a cute familiar, nightmares, allusions to being burned alive, witch trials, hints to major character death, visions, and the lost boys being violent (mainly david.), this has not been proof read it has merely been skimmed.

“I promise I will be good. Please mother!” You yell towards the cloaked woman who looked at you with a disdained look on features. Features you once found comforting and like home turned on you in an instant. Those soft features are now rigid and gaunt from stress and aging, but the worse link to all the features was the cobalt blue eyes. Eyes that reflected the moon so sharply that it was almost mirrored. Eyes so sharp and focused as your mother shook her in disappointment, “No, you won’t,” her words were forthright showing no emotion behind it. How did someone who you called your mother betray you and not even take a second glance? “No, no! Wait! No, I promise!” You start to trash against the rope that is wrapped around your body, confining you to a large wooden pole. Stretching your body to its breaking point as the only color you could see was red. Then it was hot, burning, seething your skin away as one of your sisters lowers a torch at your feet. Your eyes connect to the moon as your throat lashes a blood-curdling scream into the starry clear night.

Gasping for the air you shoot up from your makeshift bed, sweating coating your skin in a glossy layer. Your lungs rapidly gasp for air as they burn from your fears that have your heart racing so much it punches your ribs. A shift in the bed causes your attention to shift. Your cat, a scruffy black devon rex steals his way up the side of your bed. His head tilting before making his own way into your lap a loud purr radiating off of your pet in his best attempts to calm you. You lift a shaky hand to plop it down on the cat’s back who tenses for a quick second before stretching his paws to your chest, reminding you to breathe. A slight smile comes to your lips, “I’m fine, Finn. Really,” you sigh and rub away the hair sticking on your face from the layer of sweat on your skin. “It’s always the same nightmare.” You admit to your furry friend who makes his way to the tail end of your bed. He stretched and tipped his nose upwards as his spine curled sniffing the air as if he was trying to investigate the surrounding area. With your heart rate slowed just the slightest you pull yourself from your bed and shuffle through the hallway that leads from your bedroom to your living space in the trailer you parked on the cliff overlooking the beach. The sun was setting, casting an orange hue in your trailer, the light catchers reflecting rainbows as they twirl mindlessly from the free breeze coming through the cracked window. Peace. That was a safe haven. However, with the sun setting you realize you have taken a nap when least expected. You must’ve needed it after the first night of working on the boardwalk. Who knew reading tarot, runes, and palms to tourists would take so much energy out of you.

A sigh escapes your lips as you attempt to step around Finn to get to your closet where you pick a black outfit with an ornate shawl to help you stand out.

“Be good and protect the home,” you kneel down to scratch Finn under his chin after you have gathered your last-minute things and open the trailer door to have it close behind you. A quiet meow echoes from behind the door and your smirk at the small goodbye from your pet. It didn’t take you long to start up your old truck with a few hits and a couple pumps for the clutch to make your way down to the boardwalk parking lot.

The night was the same as before but this time a couple of well rounded security guards started to come up to the booth later on into the evening. The wind was a bit harsher and the waves crashed in rhythm of the music that was being played on the tiny radio next to your ankle. The boardwalk was filled with all strains of life. There were well rounded individuals taking their picture perfect families for a night out to teens dressed in all black with every inch of their face covered in piercing and colored hair. You preferred that crowd. Then again it didn’t help to get money from those picture perfect families who you only give half ass readings for. When the heavy boots of the literal rounded security officers approached your booth were you snapped from your thoughts. Looking them up and down you can instantly get a feel of their energy, they were hostile and annoyed by the night already. Yet the night was still so young.

“Excuse me, do you have a permit to be setting up your booth here?” The officer with the mustache questions shifting his weight onto one leg jutting out his hip.

“Yeah, you need a vendor permit to even set up here on the boardwalk,” the skinnier one of the couple started before picking at the cloth of your booth, studying it with a devious smirk. “You tell fortunes? Tell me how we are going to kick you off the boardwalk.” The two chuckle at the joke yet in a calm manner you stand with your hands on the ornate cloth.

“I do tell fortunes, but not those who tend hurt others because they have a flimsy gold badge on their breast,” you start and give a rather deceiving smile as you tilt your head. “I do not have a vendor’s permit to be out here. However, I am sure you know how hard it is to make a living during these times. Surely you can give me a pass.” You suggest and the fatter one with the mustache snickered at your suggestion. The two looked at one another but as they looked back at you they were met with purple hazed eyes and fingers that were pointed at them which radiated purple energy. “Now, I hope you will listen to me,” you begin this time your voice was an octave deeper as you displayed your abilities to them. It wasn’t hard to sink into their minds and be able to control such a feeble psyche, the purple illuminating from their eyes indicated you were in. You didn’t even need to chant a hex to even get them to repeat after you, “I will not approach this vendor anymore.” They repeat and a smirk quivers on the corner of your lips, “I will not terrorize anyone who I deem… different. I will walk away now and forget I ever saw this vendor.” Once they repeat you flick your wrist the two men turn on their heels and quite literally march away to whatever other duties they have. You grumble to yourself as you sit back down pushing the skirt under you so you can sit properly on the chair.

As you adjust your trinkets and cards on the table you can hear from afar an excited young boy's voice, “Mike! Look! It’s a fortune teller. We have to do this!”

“No Sammy, we said we would go to the concert and meet mom back at the entrance. I am not stopping for some phoney fortune teller who just reads some useless cards to tell me literally nothing.” the older voice replies back with an annoyed tone and quite ready to walk in the opposite direction. You don’t look up to give the hint you are listening, in fact you lean back in your chair starting to shuffle your tarot deck because indeed you know the two will end up before you.

“Well too bad. I came here to have fun and you’re ruining it. Live a little Mike. You’ve been grumpy all day,” pouts the young blonde, “plus I didn’t say you needed to get a reading done. i got my own money.”

“How did you get money?”

“I stole it from your wallet!” The younger one laughs and charges his way over to the booth and you make eye contact with him, his grin was wide and full of innocence. Blue eyes that were striking amongst the moonlight, they glimmered with hope and curiosity. “Dammit Sam!” the older one whom you assumed to be the brother charges behind. “Hi, how can I help you today?” You asks in your kindest customer service voice. The young boy holds out the ten dollar bill, “I would like a reading if I could have one please. Mom always told us about her tarot card readings, but I would like one for myself.” He grins to the side as he looks over his shoulder to his older brother, a brunette with a strong build who seems to already be annoyed just standing next to this booth and his brother. “Why of course, thank you! Take a seat please.” You request and glance over to the older brother, “If you’d like a seat by all means sit.” He didn’t respond, only took a glance at you before looking away. He was skeptical and nervous. Of course he was. “Normally I don’t do readings for such young gentlemen like you, but I like you already, so I will do a general reading. Now before I get started, may I have your name?”

“Sam,”

“Nice to meet you Sam, I am Y/N. Thank you once again,” you grant a thanks and start to shuffle your cards. Normally with normal individuals the cards don’t have this much energy. You give a breathy chuckle and shuffle fiercely before a card flies from the deck. You plant it face down before looking young Sam in the eyes giving him a playful smirk at his eagerness. “You two have a lot of energy for you, that’s a good thing.” You compliment but the older brother just snickers and crosses his arm before another card flies out. It didn’t take long for the third to fly out. You align the cards, “Alright let’s see here, this card represents you. The page of cups,” You smile gingerly at the card before flipping it to show the boy. “You are filled with wonder, you love your family and have a curious nature to you.” You can see the boy is looking at the card with curious eyes. Take in the fancy man holding a golden chalice balance on one foot and his heel. He is dressed in quite jarring clothes like the boy sitting in front of you. “You also love to express yourself in ways that are creative, like your fashion, or music.” You not before hovering your hand over the next card. “This card represents the path you are on," you flip over the card to see the emperor standing sitting on his throne high and mighty, “the emperor. Now this card is quite powerful, one of my favorites. You are on the path of seeking how to defend yourself and those you love. How to become more powerful in the sense of trying to find structure and to grow in your sense of logic and practicality.” At this point you didn’t even notice the older brother has now sat down. Full attention on you and the cards. You give him a wink before turning your attention back to his younger brother, “It seems like you’re trying to find a father figure role within yourself or by others.” The boys' features soften from a grin to a saddened look, that must’ve struck a bit too close for home. “Let’s continue, shall we?” You ask and he slowly nods glancing over at his brother. You carefully flip over the last card, “This card represents your potential,” your eyes glance down at the justice card. The figure holds a sword and a scale in each hand, sitting on a chair with authority as a scarlet drape is behind them. “Justice. You know what it’s like to be wronged, treated unfairly, you will have to face the truth soon. Whatever that truth is, you have to see everything from each point of view. Going back to the Emperor, you need to be logical and work on that skill in order to find your Justice. You will generate peace and harmony to those who surround you.”

“Wow, thank you, that’s- that’s awesome,” Sam thanks you leaning back in the folded chair carefully eyeing his brother who was staring diligently at the card, studying them and seeming astounded. You lean forward and tap the table under his nose. “I can do a reading for you as well, free of charge. I like your little brother. However, I would like your name.”

The blue eyed brunette looked up at you with wide eyes, filled with wonder and trying to read your own eyes. “Michael. My name is Michael,” you smile at his name and gather the cards back into your pile. You shuffle in the bustling white noise of the busy boardwalk. A card flies out and lands face down on the table. You shuffle until two more fall from the pile. “Alright Michael, let’s see who the cards say you are.” Your black painted fingers flip over the first card to be greeted by the figure of archangel Michael blowing on his trumpet as the words read ‘judgement’. “You are going through a new journey, a new beginning. You are starting anew. You also find comfort in sharing your struggles with others who relate and you want freedom from your own troubles. Then we have,” You start flipping over the second card, “the ten of swords.” You whisper and you glance up to see his worried eyes look at the pictured body stabbed by ten swords pinned to the ground. “Don’t overthink it.” You whisper ducking your head to make eye contact with him, trying your nest to make him feel safe. “You're going to be betrayed by someone you begin to trust. The pain inflicted runs deep not because what they have done is hurtful, but because you know deep down that this marks the end of your relationship as you know it with them. You will grieve the loss of the relationship. This card is about letting go and accepting your circumstances.” There was silence between the two, you could hear a pin drop if one was to.

“It’s a warning,” you say and clear your throat to ease the tension a bit. You flip over the last card to show the lovers card. “The lovers,” you smile longingly at the card, “you will be ready to establish your own beliefs and follow your heart in the end. You will find love for yourself but love will also find you. In every choice you make on your path, there is an equal amount of advantage and disadvantage, opportunity and challenge, positive and negative. I am excited for you to find your other half.” A warm smile comes to your lips but there was wary to the middle card, that card showed the journey he was going to begin was going to something dark. The clapping of a hand on someone’s back causes you to jump out of your trance. “Well gentlemen, I hope you got the answers you two were looking for. Thank you for stopping by, if you have any more questions or any more services, I will be here.”

The two respond with weary smiles and slowly get up from their chairs with soft thanks as they continue to make their way down the boardwalk. A twinkle of a smile was left on your lips as you watched them walk away.

Hours later you find yourself with a tip jar that is half full and a bag that contained crumpled bills that were stale and some damp. A sigh leaves your lips as you clean up the station, cleaning up the scrying orb in its case and the tip jar in the bag full of bills. Just before you started to take down your sign you saw four shadows cascade from behind you. A low hum left your lips and you turned on your heel to see four men standing in front of you. Quite young looking, dressed in all black, a couple more than the others. A small smile peaked your lips. “How can I help you gentlemen?” You ask the stoic figures as they stare down at you, purely interested and emitting a strange energy. They’re energy was really strange but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

“Well we were seeing if it wasn’t too late to get a couple of readings,” the one with the spiked platinum blonde hair responds. His head tilts as he looks into your eyes. For a second you had to look away from the piercing blue eyes because you felt your head go dizzy.

“Of course, what are you looking for? I do tarot, palms, and even runes.” You inform as your make your way to your side of the booth. Your folding chair creaking as you sit on it, your posture upright and alert.

“Well, Marko? Which one do you want? You begged to come over here before they closed.” The platinum spoke up again, you tried to get a read on him, by his upright body language he seemed to be the leader of the little posse. Though you were new to the boardwalk you never really saw them around. How did you miss them? Granted you were new to town, but only by a few weeks.

“I’ll go with a palm reading if it means the cutie gets to hold my hand.” The one name Marko pipes with a chuckle from his peers. You can only roll your eyes playfully to play along, “Well sit down, palm readings start at $10 for that comment.” You tease the curly haired man who skipped to your hair and held out his hands with a snicker following. The fingerless gloves covered most of his palm so you nod your head towards his hands, “May I?” You ask before he responds with a nod and cheesy grin. As you started to slip off his hands your eyes peered over his head to watch his friends behind him. You take in their appearances. The platinum blonde was starting to light a cigarette. The other wild haired blonde was walking forward to admire the trinkets on your booth. While the tall brunette was giving you a cold stare as he watched you take off his friends gloves. Each of them donned a single earring and a jacket that was different to their individuality. You clear your throat and look at Marko, “It is nice to meet you Marko. I hope you find this reading useful and beneficial to you for the future.” You start as you take his cool hand into yours. Overlapping his hand with yours you didn’t mind the cold hands, or think much about it, the night was quite chilly.

You roll your shoulders back and roll your neck to relax. As you did a shock was sent through your nerves and you gasped sharply. As did Marko who received the same energy suddenly, causing a pained groan to leave his throat. The energy surges up to your neck causing you to close your eyes tightly. A vision. Pain. Darkness. Betrayal. You can see through Marko’s eyes. He was in pain and bleeding everywhere. There were inhuman screeches all around him; his friends jolted around in him in disturbance and rage. Then you realized they were hanging upside down. Their faces looked like nothing that they did now. Features were contorted, eyes were bloodshot and yellow, and teeth sharp. Just as your vision ended you felt a stabbing in your chest just like the object in Marko’s chest. A pained yell left your throat. There was an echo of Marko yelling out in pain and incoherent yells of the boys behind him.

You shot Marko away from you with shadows of purple energy following him. The chair shot about six feet from under him and Marko rolled to a stop with the wild blonde following after him in concern.

“What the hell was that?!” The leader booms rushing to your table, his hands grasping the table with a crushing grip. You could hear it crack as you try to catch your breath. The pain was unbearable. “What the hell are you?!” He interrogates again with a sharp tone. This time he threw the table to the side effortlessly. You gasp and stand in response. Your hands fly up in a contorted shape with purple shadows lingers around your fingers. The leader was stuck in his palace, grunting and struggling against your will. Pants leave your parted lips, brows furrowed and pained as you hold back the leader. Exposing your power.

The three other men kneel around their curly haired friend. Your eyes flicker to them, “There is one thing I can’t stand about vampires,” you croak, holding the leader in his place bringing him as you walk closer to the boys. The look on their faces when you announce your knowledge of their supernatural being, now that look was priceless. “They don’t know how to control their temper.” You choke out as purple energy hazed over your eyes. Their eyes widened at the energy around their leader and the shine from your eyes. All of them scramble to their feet.

The brunette was first to act and you were faster to stop him mid run. He was now frozen under your spell. Energy outlining his shape as he looked around frantically. You wipe your hand causing him to fly straight through the railing and far out into the ocean with a purple orb pushing straight into his chest. Then with another flick of your wrist the leader went flying right after the brunette with another orb following to make him go further. Your purple eyes scanned towards the two blondes who looked hostile yet intimidated. Before they could even take a step you waved your arms and contorted hands in front of you, to each of their bodies, with a cross of your arms the two slam into one another with a crushing thud. You push the energy out with your arms and hands and the two blondes went flying far out into the ocean following their peers with purple orbs pushing into their chests.

You were left there on the dark boardwalk, cascaded under orange street lamps, panting with purple shadows flowing around your eyes and glowing in your eyes. Your adrenaline pumping through your veins caused your breathing to become ragged. It took a beat for your breathing to return to normal. You slid your stance back to normal to show your calming nature. Your hands return to your sides no longer casting purple energy and your eyes are their normal color but still widened in fear. Behind you was your booth table broken in half, your items thrown all about wildly from the wind, and your scrying orb shattered near your feet. Dollar bills flying wildly wherever the ocean breeze takes them.

Taking one last deep breath you tilt your head out towards the crashing onyx waves. The humid breeze thrashing your clothing all about. You press a clammy palm to your forehead as you curse quietly to yourself, “Shit.”

a/n: this is the first part of a series that i have been writing on and off for the past month. i’ve always wanted to incorporate a witch into the lost boys because it would be so interesting! this will be sort of slow burn poly!the lost boys kind of vibe. please let me know if you’d like more of this series. thank you so much for reading!! 🖤🖤🖤

#soulless writes #i think; therefore i am #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb #tlb 1987 #tlb fanfiction #the lost boys fanfiction #poly!the lost boys #poly!the lost boys x reader #david the lost boys #marko the lost boys #paul the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys

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wandsandwheezes · 4 years ago

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Numb | G.W

angst and fluff my loves Gerorge x Slytherin!Reader

TW // mentions of depression (not explicitly but it's there) and violence

@wand3ringr0s3 is such a massive inspiration for writing this, her fics are a top tier and have given me the insensitive to start writing again after convincing myself that I couldn't write for shit ❤️

Flashback in italics

The sounds of delicate raindrops echo across the surface of the black lake, grey clouds rolling across the sky. The regular sound of British rainfall would usually be the soundtrack to my evening study sessions, but as I'm standing out in the rain, cold droplets rolling down my face and settling on the surface layer of my hair, which is becoming more and more drenched, I feel my soul pour out of my eyes with an intense stare into nothingness. Numb. That's the only way to describe how I currently feel, my head is empty and my thoughts are vacant. You'd think that after years of being told that I didn't belong, that I am a disgrace to my house, A Mudblood, unpure and unwanted, that I'd just get over the charming nickname but every time useless gits like Lucas throw it my way I'm sent back here to Numb City - population; me. I remember the gasps and shock as the sorting hat was placed on my head for not even a moment before I was sorted into Slytherin, from that moment on I was the joke of my year, not even the Weasley Twins could one up me for a laugh, and god did they try.

"You're gonna catch a cold if you stand out in this rain any longer." the first glimpse of any feeling all day corsed through my veins just in the way that he spoke. A tall firey haired boy stood with his arms crossed just a few metres away from me and out of the corner of my eye I can see him frowning. "what are you doing here, George?" I ask quietly, voice hoarse with the little speech today, "I didn't see you at meals this morning and at first I thought you were busy but when i couldn't spot you at dinner- I just got worried... " he was looking at the floor now, standing awkwardly at his confession, George Weasley was the one person in all of Hogwarts that showed any care towards me.

My tear strained cheeks were the adorning feature of my sad face, buried between my knees as I choke down my sobs, which no matter how hard I try to silence them, will carry throughout the stone halls. The feeling of a warm hand gently resting on my arm forces me to look up at a baby faced red haired boy, his soft voice spoke to me "Mum always told me to be there for those who need it the most, and you look like you could use a friend right now." Taking a deep breath, I wipe the tears off my warm cheeks and apologise lowly to the boy who is now sat next to me. "The name's George by the way, and you must be Y/N, you know, I personally think that Lucas was a right git for calling you that horrible name infront of the whole class... If you want, I can convince Freddie to help me give the sod a rat's tail, will teach him for being such a-" I giggle a little as i sniffle my nose, cutting the boy off "don't get yourself expelled for me, George" he shakes his head wrapping his arm around me, "I'd be doing the school a favour either way, just say the word and I'll hex him into next week"

Before I could let any more tears fall from my cheeks, I'm pulled into George's chest, his hand gently stroking my hair, as his other arm wraps around my waist. Safe. I finally feel safe, not that George was my boyfriend or anything, I doubt he'd want to be, but he has been standing up for me since the day he found me crying in the halls, Much to his family's and house's dismay, he truly has stuck by me through the toughest and easiest days.

"let's get you out of this miserable weather, yeah?" George apparates us to his dorm room, pulling me to the stool infront of the roaring fire. He leaves me for a moment to search his drawers for something, walking over with a pile of clothes, "here, change into this and come meet me in the common room" I see his maroon and gold quidditch sweater, be placed infront of me "I can't wear this, George!" he laughs a little "Please, I insist, I know the chaser in you is seething but its the warmest thing I own." I shake my head and stand up to peel my rain drenched robes off of my cold body, George turns to leave the room, walking towards the door, speaking quickly before he shuts it behind him, "Besides, you have no idea how good it'll look on you"

I was stunned, surely he didn't mean it like that, but more in one of those playful joking ways, because there is no way that a man as brilliant as George Weasley could ever fall in love with someone like me. My small feet pad down the stairs, the smell of cinnamon and burnt wood whirling around my nostrils as I see George curled up infront of the fire. I sit on the sofa in front of him and send him a small but genuine smile, to which he responds with a gentle laugh, "I told you, you'd look good in it" with that the thoughts were back, and i couldn't help but blush, looing away for a few moments before his voice draws me back to his eyes once more, "I'll always protect you, you know that, right?" he was running his fingers over his now bruising knuckles, avoiding my gaze. I scan over his red knuckles and pull myself off the sofa so that I'm sat on my knees in front of him and for once I'm the one taking his hands in my own. "Oh George, what have you done?" I ask brushing his hair out of his eyes, "I knocked Lucas out, he was standing around laughing about how he was going to throw a bludger at you so hard that he'll knock the mudb-" I cut him off, "why would you do something as stupid as that, George?" laughing a little, bringing his hand to my lips and pressing a small kiss to his knuckles. "Because I love you so much that the thought of anyone ever hurting you makes me so mad inside that I can't let it ever happen."

I don't think I heard that right, I must just be imagining that he could have ever said the words I've been needing to hear, someone to love me. It must have been minutes because seconds didn't feel right when i was staring into his beautiful eyes. "please say something" he whispers, his hand moving to gently cup my cheek as I smile at him, my brain failing to process any words, I was just nodding, leaning into his touch and before I knew it our lips were connected in a soft but loving kiss, my fingertips moving to tangle in his hair as I bring myself closer to him. In that moment everything felt right. This was the moment I'd been waiting for. "That was definitely saying something." George laughs as he peppers kisses over my cheeks. "however this new relationship may make game days a little... Interesting to say the least, that is if you'll be mine?" by this point I'm grinning from ear to ear, I shake my head connecting our lips once again for a more passionate kiss, when we pull away I trail little kisses to whisper in his ear. "I'll be yours on one condition, Weasley, no going soft on the pitch just because I'm your girlfriend" He laughs, grabbing you by your hips and pinning you underneath him. "That's tough talk, Princess, especially for a girl in a Griffindor Sweater"

#George Weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley fic #slytherin #harry potter #fred and george #fred weasley #weasley twins

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icefire149 · 4 years ago

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An Angel’s Vow

Chapter Five (Read on ao3 | Read from the beginning)

Once the kitchen was clean, Claire put her other duffle bag on the table. She unzipped it. “It’s not much, but it works.”

Cas took everything out of the bag and examined it carefully. The bag contained: a machete, some silver bullets but no gun, a pouch of silver coins, an iron crowbar, a lock pick set, a coin Claire thinks is iron, a couple bottles of holy water, some spray paint, a half empty container of salt, a box of penguin band-aids, cleaning alcohol, and an angel sword. Cas frowned. “This is abysmal.”

Defensive, Claire crossed her arms. “The sword is basically a hunting equivalent to a Swiss army knife.”

“I don’t understand what military grade Swiss cutlery has to do with anything, but I do know hunting. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Oh, so here we go! Hit me with the speech.”

Cas turned around bewildered. “What are you talking about? There’s no speech.”

“So you’re not gonna tell me that I’m being stupid and I should go live a normal life?”

“I’m not going to yell at you or tell you what to do.” Cas tried to keep his voice even. “Am I happy that you’re hunting? No. Am I frustrated that you’re hunting by yourself? Absolutely. But it’s your life and I promised to keep you safe.”

Claire rolled her eyes with her whole body. She went over to the refrigerator and snagged a juice box out. With a loud pop, she stabbed the straw in.

Sighing, Cas put his hands on the table. He looked over Claire’s hunting supplies again. “I don’t think you understand.” His voice came out much softer than before.

The juice box was half way to Claire’s mouth when she froze.

“I know you’re not going to stop now that your mind is set. I want to help you be a better hunter.”

“What?”

Cas looked over his shoulder, and studied Claire. Obviously, she was grown by human standards, but he could still clearly see the small child he devastated…..is continuing to jeopardize. His chest started feeling unnaturally tight. For a moment he thought that he could still see the baby from the shreds of Jimmy’s memory that remains with him. “I’m willing to share my knowledge of the supernatural with you. Afterwards if you’re still willing to be a hunter at least you’ll be better informed about what you’re signing up for.”

“Are you serious?” Claire tilted her head, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “How are we supposed to hunt with the kid?”

“We’re not hunting. We’re studying.”

Claire’s whole body drooped. “Studying what? I can’t imagine where you have lore books stashed here. This house is pretty bare bones.”

“Lore books would be nice, but I have a library right up here.” He touched his temple with his index finger. “And besides we have a ton of ground to cover before thinking about hunts.”

“It’s not like I haven’t been on a couple hunts already.”

“Yeah, but do you have the exorcism chant memorized? Or recorded? Can you make hex bags? Draw various devil traps? Read any Latin or Enochian? Tracking spells? Draw angel banishing-”

“Okay!” Claire burst. She put the juice box down on the table. Her voice softened. “Okay, I get it.”

Cas nodded. “Would you be interested in learning any of that?”

“You’re seriously willing to teach me any of that?”

“Of course. I want you to be safe, and I want you to be happy.”

The next thing Cas knew, he was trapped in a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you,” Claire mumbled into his chest. She let go just as fast and sat in the chair she used earlier during lunch.

Cas pushed the juice box into her reach. She took it and started drinking. He smiled, feeling the tension loosen in his shoulders.

“So….” Claire spoke with the straw still in the corner of her mouth. “When does hunter school start, professor angel?”

“We could probably start tomorrow. Does that mean you’re planning on staying for a while?”

Sitting up straight, Claire’s expression morphed from jovial to serious. “Is that okay? Is it even safe with…”

They both glanced towards the living room for a moment. Cas crossed his arms. “Of course it’s okay. You’re free to come and go as much as you please.” He sighed, uncharacteristically running a hand through his hair. “But your second question...I honestly don’t know. And that frightens me.”

Cas pulled the chair closest to him and sat down. “You’re not safe if you leave now.” He gestured at her hunting supplies on the table. “I know Heaven is after Jack. I’ve been careful to keep us hidden, but it’s not without flaws. Jack’s birth should have attracted a ton of attention. I’m shocked we haven’t been discovered yet.”

“You’ve been doing good so far. Maybe they won’t find you,” Claire said, leaning her elbows on the table. She rested the side of her face in the palm of her hand.

“They will at some point….I just wish I knew what’s taking them so long. I feel like I’m missing something.”

“Is there any kind of warding we could put up? Spells?”

Cas smiled softly. “Angel warding would be useless in this situation. Yes, it would keep Heaven away from this house, but it would also keep me and Jack out.”

“So what have you done?”

“After Jack was born….the moment we could flee, I etched Enochian sigils into his ribs to hide him from every angel.” Cas subconsciously rubbed a hand over the tattoo on his side. “My body is hidden from angels in a similar way.”

Stunned, Claire stared at Cas in silent horror.

“Actually that reminds me-” Cas turned his whole body towards in Claire’s direction. “I wanted to give you those sigils as well for protection.”

Claire slowly leaned away in her chair. “Why….would I need protection from angels?”

Cas’ eyebrows furrowed. “There’s always a chance you might stumble into an angel related case, but most importantly you should be hidden from them in case anyone remembers your ties to me. You’re important.”

“Because I can function as your vessel?”

“That does put you in a lot of danger.”

Her whole body drooped as she sighed. “Great.”

“At this point I doubt that there are any angels that remember which bloodline begets my vessels, but I’d rather err on the side of caution.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No. You’ll never notice it.”

She nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Cas got up and positioned himself to stand directly behind her. Claire closed her eyes. He placed his hands on the top of both of her shoulders for a few seconds, and then he went back to his chair.

Claire opened her eyes. “You didn’t do anything?”

“I did and it’s done.”

She burst out of her chair, running her hands down her arms and looking over her body. “Everything looks the same.”

Cas smiled fondly. “Your ribs. You won’t be able to see anything without an x-ray.”

Her eyes snapped back up at him, wide with curiosity. “That was so cool! I can’t feel a difference.” She sat back down again. “What does the warding look like?”

“Oh.” Cas sat up straighter and glanced around the room. “I can draw them out for you, but…” He frowned. “We’re going to need to buy some pens and paper.”

That pulled a laugh out of Claire. “Figures. We need to go school supply shopping.”

Confused, Cas turned his head to the side just a bit. Then it clicked. “Yeah. We’ll need to go supply shopping.”

“So the warding will be enough to keep us hidden while we’re shopping?”

Cas sat back in the chair. “Technically, yes. The reason why it isn’t perfect is how angels communicate.” He touched the side of his forehead for a moment. “Dean calls it Angel Radio. I can turn it off when I want to, but in general angels can contact and find each other through our minds.”

Claire stared at him for several silent moments while his words processed, and then the gears turned. She glanced towards the living room.

“I don’t know if he’s connected,” Cas said simply. “And I don’t want to reach out to him that way until he’s older….and understands.”

“Huh.” Crossing her arms, Claire turned back towards Cas. “He’s really got us in a pickle.”

The puzzled look on Cas’ face was evident, but he chose to nod instead. Claire cracked a smile. “Hopefully Heaven is too scared of the idea of Jack that they’ll keep their distance.”

“Hopefully.”

After a quiet pause. “Sooo...does this place have decent WiFi?”

“I believe so. Kelly was frequently on her laptop.”

“Excellent.” Claire’s smile widened. “You wanna watch a movie?”

Cas’ expression softened. “I’d like that greatly.”

“Be right back then,” Claire said hopping up and leaving the room. On her way through the house she glanced at Jack sound asleep in his play pen. He was on his back, and the foot of a stuffed lion toy was clenched in his tiny fist. Amused, Claire shook her head and continued upstairs to her other duffle bag.

It was only a minute or two later when she descended down the stairs with her laptop charger clunking into each step. “Is there anything in particular that-”

Her voice cut off seeing the pained look on Cas’ face. He was seated on the living room couch, but he looked miles away. “Cas?”

Startled, his whole body uncharacteristically flinched. His blue eyes looked dull and sad. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you coming.”

Claire slowly walked over to the couch and put the laptop down at the opposite end. “Are you okay? You look sick.” She kicked the charger cord to the side and sat down on the middle cushion.

“I’m fine.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Wanna try that again?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “I told you in the past that angels can pick up on more than just verbal prayers. Longing. Strong feelings of intent. They’re like…..indirect prayers.”

“Yeah. So who’s praying? Dean?”

Cas sighed. “He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, but I can feel that he’s perturbed.”

“Well yeah.” Claire pulled her legs up, crossing them. She then turned her whole body in Cas’ direction. “Jody told me Sam is like ready to tie him down so he’ll stop clawing at the walls. He’s trying to find you.”

Mildly irritated, Cas shook his head. “He’s yet to actually pray to me so I can’t imagine he wants to speak to me that badly.”

“That’s fair. One point to Castiel.”

Cas raised an eyebrow at that.

“So why are we letting Dean sweat? What did he do?” Claire grinned. “Depending on what he did, I bet we can get Jody to boot his car.”

“I’m afraid to ask what that means, but I have no doubt that Dean would never speak to me again if we did such a thing to ‘his baby’.”

Claire shook her head. “Never mind that then.”

Cas took a deep breath. His gaze slid over to Jack’s sleeping form. “Dean and I didn’t part on good terms. I spent much of the past year tracking Jack’s mother. She wasn’t easy to find.” Cas’ head turned and he met Claire’s eye. He frowned. “And my original mission was to terminate the pregnancy.”

A sudden chill crept up Claire’s spine. “Oh.”

“Dean understood the complexities of my mission. I didn’t want to hurt Kelly, but….a child like Jack is…..he could cause a lot of harm.”

Arching her neck up, Claire tried to get a better glimpse of the baby. He seemed to be sleeping with his face squished into the playpen floor. “I get the idea,” she said quietly. “Archangel power. Prince of Darkness. But…” Claire pointed her thumb in Jack’s direction. “I don’t think he fits the bill.”

“When I did find Kelly,” Cas continued. “And I rescued her from Dagon, one of the Princes of Hell…..Jack called out to me. He showed me a peaceful world. A vision of the good he’ll be able to do.”

“And that’s why you’ve gone all dad mode.” Claire crossed her arms.

“He asked.”

“And Dean?”

“To hunt Dagon I had to trick Dean and steal a special gun he prized.”

Grimacing, Claire quipped, “I bet that went over well.”

“At the time him and Sam were pitching ideas of removing Jack’s grace.”

“What would that even do to him?”

“Make him human I suppose…”

“But you don’t know.”

“No. Not for certain. And Kelly wanted her son to be whole.”

Claire nodded in agreement. “She’s right. Jack should be allowed to be his entire self. No hiding. No changing or compromising for others.”

Cas smiled softly, and then it fell while he stared at his hands in his lap. “I suspect now that Dean is mostly upset about the disappearance act, but...I’ve been keeping the distance so I don’t have to lose everyone. My siblings already dislike both Winchesters.”

A small laugh escaped Claire. “Figures.”

“And….I do actually quite like this house. It’s peaceful here. Unlike their bunker...which is filled with rooms of unknown and dangerous items.”

A glint of excitement shone in Claire’s eyes. “Are you sure? Sounds like a fun place to explore and grow up in.”

Cas shook his head. “Jack deserves sunshine and windows...and a life unmarked by hunting…..well for as long as I can give him.”

Claire nodded, and they both sat there in silence with their thoughts for a while. Eventually, Claire’s eyes moved back to Cas and the sorrow exuding from him. “If Dean left the bunker to help you with Jack out here….would you want that?”

Cas was silent for a long time. Claire couldn’t make heads or tails of his expression. Eventually he spoke in a hushed whisper. “I miss him.”

“You should ask him instead of making his decisions for him.”

Cas’ eyes darted back to her for a moment. He stared, and then he pointed at the laptop. “So what kind of movie were you thinking?”

#spn #supernatural #castiel #claire novak #baby jack truthing #jack kline #baby jack kline #my writing #An Angel's Vow

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divagonzo · 4 years ago

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Like a Muggle

A/N: This is inspired (and a roughly written one-shot in my side-verse) by @headcanonsandmore aka Dadcanons and their musing of Ron being an awesome father to his kids.

Rated T for innuendo and some snogging but also veiled references to physical violence and social mortification. 98% Ace Safe. This will eventually end up on Ao3 and maybe FF.net

For now, though, it’s all for the Tumblr crowds.

Edit: Now on Ao3.

Give me my demarcation line damn it!

Ron opened the window to admit the unexpected owl. He was working in the Wheeze's office, trying to balance the books and was instead accosted by a nondescript brown owl. "Letter from Neville?" Ron unwrapped the twine from the owl's leg. "Need a rasher or a kip?" The owl hooted what sounded like a No. "It's from Neville. Does he need a reply?" Yet another hooting no.

"Wanna run on back then since Neville doesn't need anything else?" Ron reached out and let the owl come to him, stroking his head feathers gently before the owl took off again. He unrolled the length of parchment, using the readers on top of his head to scan the letter. Disappointment welled in his heart at first before pride shined. He had to go tell Hermione this straightaway, sod the books for an hour. He grabbed his dark blue cloak for the short walk to the Ministry. Taking the floo was too much hassle for a brisk fall morning. "George, I gotta run to the ministry. Back in a few." "Bring me back those shipping contract papers that Percy has for us, wouldya? Save a plonker the trip." Ron threw up a rude gesture while taking the twenty minute walk to the front of the Ministry. He needed the break anyway from the numbers swirling around his head this morning.

Through the toilets and through security, even with the bailiff who knew who he was and still checked him, in the lift down six floors to the Magical Law Enforcement offices, through the rows of desks for the bureaucracy known as the Ministry to Hermione's personal secretary Miranda Blunt. "Ah, Mr. Weasley. You're not on her agenda today so I assume it's important for her to see you immediately? Well she's using the Floo with her Italian counterpart on business so it will be a few." Ron smiled, knowing how important Miranda actually was to Hermione. Everyone thought she was just her secretary but only a chosen few - Harry, Hermione, Hemera, and Ron knew that Miranda was also her personal bodyguard at the office, after the few times anyone tried to breach the security of the department to get to her. "Tea, Mr. Weasley?" "Please." "Three sugars, spot of milk?" "I'd almost think you're related to Hermione with that mind of yours." "Nah, it's only for the important stuff. Husband's tea is important knowledge. And it's also a way for you to know it's really me." Ron gave her a lopsided smile while Miranda slipped into the secure office, returning a couple of minutes later with a small tray of tea and a couple packets of biscuits. "Your wife didn't know if you were peckish or not." "You spoil a bloke, you know that?" Ron tore the packet open and inhaled the contents. He'd missed breakfast this morning on account of other pleasant activities then fell back asleep, only waking fifteen minutes before he was due at the shop. Miranda went back to her seat and used the contraption Hermione got her last year, called a typewriter. They'd explained it to Ron that it was like writing on parchment but easier to read for those who had trouble reading so many varied scrips from people. Hermione had even gifted one to Arthur and he spent countless hours using it writing to his kids and grandkids. The door opened up a couple of minutes later and Hermione stood there, making a motion for Ron to come into her office. Ron followed her in and then he kicked the door shut and gave her a enthusiastic greeting, one that she never complained about before pulling back from his lips, her cheeks flushed and her eyes closed. "You rarely come to the office on a Wednesday so what gives?" "I got a letter from Neville this morning and thought you probably should hear it from me than from him if he sent you a letter, too." "Letter?" Hermione pulled her glasses up to the bridge of her nose, a faint imitation of McGonagall and scanned the parchment twice. "Detention! Two weeks! Rose Lavender Weasley, of all the people! Hexing two another students!" She looked at Ron and saw him smirking slightly. "You prat. There's a page two, isn't there?" "Of course there is," Ron handed it over and watched her frown turn to a grimace and eventually into a smile. "She takes after you, she does." Hermione looked up from the parchment and smiled. "You were always so good on speaking up for me and occasionally fighting my battles when I didn't realize there was one going on." Hermione went back to her desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a cup, pointed her wand at it and re-heated the black coffee, and took a long sip. "You must have zero nerves in your mouth," Ron muttered from his seat across the desk. "You get used to it," Hermione pulled out a length of parchment along with her eagle owl quill and inkpot. "Anything you want to add into the letter I will send off straightaway?" "Nah, she should hear from you first anyway," Ron knew he'd write a letter later today and send it off tomorrow morning so Rose would know how proud her dad was for her standing up for others. Hermione went to work writing and in short order, finished it and cleaned up the parchment with her quill. "I considered a howler but I refuse to do that to our child for any reason. I hated getting them when people thought I was toying around with guys during the Tri-wizard tournament. Besides, Neville has everything under control so I'm not upset too much over it." Ron recalled punching a certain git in the nose and smiled. "Who'd have thought that what started as bullying would turn into a trip for three of the bullies to the hospital ward with Hannah and two weeks detention for Rosie for hexing two students bullying Hugo and his friends, and blackening the eyes of the other two when they disarmed her. I don't think her having a broken hand for punching the boy in the nose was too far for her." "And Neville did say the boys pulled their wands first and she was disarmed." "I'm glad I taught her there's no shame in fighting unfairly when it's overwhelming odds." "I do hope there's no ongoing reprisals." Hermione looked at Ron and saw him shaking his head. "Nah, if I know any better, I'm sure the sods in question were told off privately to leave Hugo alone if they knew what was best for them." Hermione let out a stifled laugh. "What kind of idiot takes on a Rose when almost all of her cousins are present these terms? The only one who isn't' there is Teddy, Right?" Ron nodded. Hermione smiled slightly. "Sixth years and she's a third year, Ron." "She's as tall as many of the boys there, Hermione. It doesn't surprise me in the least. And if there are any further problems, Victorie would probably step in and put them in their rightful place, I reckon." Hermione picked up the parchment and scanned it one last time. "I think we do need to send a howler tomorrow." "Really? Why?" "One of the gits is Zacharias Smith's son and he said that “the only reason you weren’t expelled for this is because of your parents.”

Ron's eyes lit up. "Thinking what I'm thinking?" "I am."

Yet another demarcation line!

Rose tromped into breakfast, exhausted. She's been in detention with Professor Sinestra until one in the morning helping her sort maps and other useless rubbish. Hugo was the one who loved Astronomy and the stars. Only thing she wanted was to race around the Quidditch pitch and now she was banned for a fortnight, for standing up for those who needed protecting. It was so bloody unfair! James and Fred said she was brilliant for what she did and so did Molly and Scorpius. Al, being Al, laughed quietly when she said why she'd gotten detention. She looked up from her seat at the table, her friends with her in commiseration, and saw Zeb sitting across the way, scowling at her with two black eyes and a brace around his left wrist. Madame Abbot Longbottom said it was a small price for him to pay for being a bully on first years - that everyone in the school would know his shame. Owls swooped in, each dropping parcels for those who were present in the Great Hall. She glanced up and saw a tawny brown owl carrying a red envelope in it's talons. She felt the utter dread in the pit of her stomach.

Her parents sent her a howler. She knew she'd stepped in dragon dung if they were mad enough to send a howler. She felt the shame on her face and neck, a reminder to her that her Dad was the same way. She saw Professor Longbottom surreptitiously pull his wand from his robes, ready to silence it into oblivion if it got out of hand.

One last glance across the way and she saw Zeb Smith smirking, knowing how much trouble she was about to get into.

She took it in a shaking hand and tore the top off, hearing her Mum's tsking loudly. "Fuck," she said under her breath.

"Rose Lavender Granger, detention? Of all the things to get in trouble for, and you chose this," Hermione's voice droned loudly. She was shocked. Mom wasn’t yelling, well, no more than seemed usual. "We are so proud of you for standing up for the younger students. Who picks on first years minding their own business? What prat thinks so poorly of themselves that they'd berate first years for playing in the hallways between classes? " "Who tries to hex firsties?" Ron's voice interrupted. "Rude!"

“Yes, it was very rude and you were right to intervene.” Hermione’s voice carried across the hall.

"We spoke with your head of house," Ron's voice bellowed, "and agree that the punishment fits the circumstances. Two weeks detention is adequate to us." "Sometimes the consequences are a fair price to pay." Hermione said. "Serve your detentions knowing that we are proud of you for standing up for others who need protecting from bullies." "Love, Dad - " - and Mum." Rose released the breath she'd been holding entirely too long and looked across the way. Zeb was no longer at the table and neither were his three friends she'd put in the hospital wing fighting them like a Muggle.

#Dragon's Fics #Hpfic #Romione #Rose Weasley Granger #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger #Hugo Granger-Weasley #OCs #Neville Longbottom #This ties into my fics from Romione FicFest #where Rose is a quidditch prodigy #and eventually has issues with Mum #But for this one things are still swimmingly good #tw:#tw: off page mentions of physical violence #tw: bullying references

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steve0discusses · 4 years ago

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S5 Ep6: Joey Wheeler is on Fire, Yet Again

Came down with a little sickness-not the biggie, just a little sly guy. But I took some meds, I’m a little floaty, I’ve only been listening to baroque music all morning for some reason? And I hate baroque music usually? But I’ll leave it to bro to tell me if this is fluid enough.

Just so you know, these caps were kind of a hot mess for a while and some of them read like that Garfield in of hot eat the food comic until...today. So pls don’t judge me, Judge my damn DMV where no one was following Covid regulations because I’m pretty sure that’s where I got this damn cold.

We start off with Roland getting more attention than he ever has in his entire life. Like honestly, I don’t know what Roland’s job really is...but he’s got a very diverse set of very useless skills. One of which, is knowing how to announce sports games that aren’t really a sport, while those games he’s announcing slowly fall into chaos.

Anyway, Roland’s taking so long cherishing his sweet time before everything goes to hell, that he’s boring Joey, who’s kinda turned into a ball of stress in the waiting room.

A lot of this episode is us watching them watching Joey having a break down moment by moment, TBH.

(read more under the cut)

Yugi telling Joey to study his cards and straight up--what?

Like at this point they know what’s on the cards, right? Like there comes a point where even Yugioh cards have a finite amount of words and I’m just going to assume that like...Joey probably knows them all in his own deck, right?

(bro note: they have no limit on what they will put on a card)

Then again, maybe Yugi doesn’t know what “study” means?

Also, appreciate how some artist crosshatched the hell on Joey’s nose there and I zoomed out and ruined it.

Now for some reason every duelist is hanging out in the duel lodge, including our current arch-villain guy who’s brought a book. I want to know what book this guy even reads so no one could suspect he’s actually a hacker who uses computers. He’s reading romance, right? And I don’t think he’d even be into Twilight, I think he’s straight up into hard core Mom romance like a lame ass Nicholas Sparks over there reading “Dear John” for the millionth time because he is completely un-phased by anything else happening in this room.

Joey, our hero, just out there being an asshole for no reason.

After Tea is pushed into a locker or something screaming about her need for female friends (which she screamed in earshot of Rebecca again, who I figured was on friends terms with her after last episode...but I guess not) Leon hops up to remind us that we should be caring about the fact that his character exists.

And like, I love Leon’s hair color--that’s a good choice, and legit that is the color I tried to dye my hair at the beginning of the epidemic (it didn’t work PS, my hair cannot take dye for the life of it) but also like...he just kinda feels like a weak Rebecca as far as characters go. He’s young, he’s good at cards...I think he goes to a private school? That’s all I can think of about Leon.

He mostly just reminds us that the big prize of this tourney is to duel Yugi, who anyone could have dueled at any point even without the tournament.

On the way out of the...duel room? lounge? Area? Joey decides to like...make peace with Zigfried, and I gotta tell you, I kinda have to side with Zigfried, because Joey spent the last ten minutes being a freak in the dressing room/lounge/bathroom and at one point looked like he was going to hold the entire locker room in a stranglehold.

I would also want some space from Joey Wheeler, is what I’m saying.

After insulting Joey’s style (which honestly, Joey...has a style? He pops his collar, that’s his entire style.) Zigfried assures us that Joey’s gonna lose and like...

...probably, right? Just looking at the plausible direction this season will go.

Anyway, Joey is such a mess (which is the theme of the episode, that Joey needs to learn to chill in order to win at card games) that Rebecca is like “I understand if all of you leave me to go help our poor baby Joey.” And no one felt bad for her.

Mokuba comes over to tell everyone all of the Kaiba family secrets because Mokuba has no filter.

Seto has devoted himself to staring at a computer screen for the rest of this episode. I guess he’ll put their names into Google, realize that social media hasn’t been invented yet, and then just lie his head down on the desk and take a power nap until the tournament is over. Much like I did after taking Dayquil this afternoon.

I like how Seto dressed for success and then locked himself in the server room for most of this arc so far. Maybe he’s just...really tired, I dunno. I don’t really blame the guy, he’s had a hard time.

And then Yugi was like “DAMN IT MOKUBA, JUST ONCE CAN YOU NOT INVITE THE ILLUMINATI???”

And we had a weird scene where Yugi just started talking to the ghost and it was while he was talking to everyone else, and the show didn’t treat it like that’s a weird thing to do...but it was a weird thing to do.

This show does that sometimes, where I guess they imply that Yugi’s Pharaoh conversations are split second conversations but...they’re not, right?

Also this chick ain’t gone yet, and Mokuba is just failing at his entire job for not zeroing in on vibes coming off this chick like stinky cheeseman.

So listen.

Did the Kaibas make like 3 types of Blue Eyes Caboose to one up Noah? Because Noah made one choo choo dragon, and then Mokuba and Seto were like “how dare” and then made sure that everyone ride every single version of the blue eyes caboose just to see how proud of them they were.

How many months of troubleshooting was the train? Like how long in development did Seto and Mokuba spend on these? A lot right? Like most of the time?

I did not check the subs to see if Roland said Jumping or Champion but I like to believe that Roland thought it was a cool new name he gave him.

Then these guys all showed up.

Hey so...can we talk seating arrangements?

Tea decided not to sit next to Yugi after complaining about not spending time with him for like how many episodes? Or was it too awkward to sit on top of what was probably Pharaoh?

Or did Mokuba go like “please, Tea, I cannot sit next to the others because I’m pretty sure one is a mole that is about to go cray” and was Tea like “Good, I need female friends, these ones are driving me crazy!” and then was Mokuba like peering desperately over the edge of his self made dragon train prison realizing he has to listen to Tea complain about boys for the rest of his ride across molten lava?

Headcanons abound about this weird seating arrangement that the animators drew for the reasons they did...but reasons I cannot fully understand. That and the Dayquil is making me overfixate on random stuff.

And also, Tea is kind of the Kaiba’s security’s understudy. Just there to always protect Mokuba with her ass because she’s the strongest woman alive.

PS I missed the tumblr wars because at the time I was trying to like...run a proper business on blogger. When Blogger died and I jumped over here it was like a weird ruin where everyone was like “tumblr is the most toxic place alive” and...I’ve had a really nice time here, actually. Completely missed that civil war period and I have no regrets.

Now I was there for the Petz wars (warz, I guess) where people were very militant about Petz abuse (abuze?) where apparently people were using the spray bottle on their catz too much and people were very, very upset about it to the point that they were like campaigning about it on their angelfire websites with the most bizarre grassroots campaigns that I still recall, to this day because they were like...well they looked like this:

PLAPA. Not only am I 100% positive that only this one guy ever called this movement PLAPA, but I’m 100% positive that not only are Catz not real people, but also this wasn’t actually happening and we never had any proof that it was. Either way, if people knew or suspected that you hadn’t deleted the spray bottle from your game (which at the time I had no idea how to do because I was a wee child) they would basically assume you were on a one way road to being a mass murderer in real life.

In real life we were 7 years old so like...thanks?

But that’s the closest I got to toxicity and at the time I was too young to make an email account and actually converse with these people. I was just there to download their Petz hexes, and I already made a post about how wonderful and incredible Petz Hexing was.

And y’all, I heard, just now after a little deep dive into the Petz Abuse debacle (which yes, is on the wiki), that apparently, like gardening, Petz Hexing came back in a big way during the epidemic--and I have found an active Petz forum in this the year 2021. The only problem is that I no longer remember how to use old timey forums...and I think I’m locked out of seeing most of these threads (and like this forum is so old I think I have to send them a letter in the physical mail to apply). But, I’m pretty sure they’re hosting a picture contest for who’s dogz poses the best. And I’m pretty sure someone created a hexxed Pickle Rick. Or it’s a photoshop that was made to look like a hexxed Pickle Rick.

Dammit why did it have to be Pickle Rick? That’s not worth re-installing Petz and getting it to run on Windows 10...

Guys is this the Dayquil? Is this really happening? I feel like I’m losing my mind for so many reasons...

Anyway, speaking about useless hexing it’s about time that our villain did something that was actually dangerous, so Zigfried decided to install a new virus that does more than turn off the lights. (it still turns off lights)

the Spreadsheet Virus!

Confounded by the spreadsheet software, it...um...it does this:

Straight up how does Excel make a volcano erupt? Is that why I have to pay for Microsoft office now?

All this because Joey made fun of Zigfried’s naturally pink hair? Which is the most normal hair on this series outside of like...Tristan?

Hey guys...Joey’s fine, right? Like how many times has Joey been on fire? And once in an iron cage next to like...a Fire Golem?

Joey’s fine.

MAN I miss Fire Golem. He had a good mug.

And then we just kinda watch chaos go across the park, chaos that includes: Too many ghosts in the haunted mansion (which honestly--you’ll get your money’s worth, sounds great!), the Ferris wheel goes kinda fast and thus might accidentally be fun, the lights turn off at some concert stage that only had 2 people on it (so it might just be motion detector lights and not even a virus), and um...literal fire and magma are going to set Joey Wheeler on fire.

Just...one of these events does not seem like the others. In fact most of these things sound like good improvements to the park and they should just hire Zigfried at this point.

Roland puts down his microphone and jogs across the stage, about a mile through the audience bleachers, and into the staff lounge, to go and bother Seto Kaiba, who is in a room that has a hi-def classical painting copy-pasted on the wall and I can’t look away from it.

I almost did a Google search on this painting but then thought better about it. There’s like...a billion classical paintings that look exactly like this, and they wouldn’t use like a Monet, they would have to do something that’s harder to catch to avoid copyright issues (because yes, even old ass paintings have copyright issues, but no one tell NFT’s which are going to be so freakin screwed and was such a bad idea, that I can’t even start).

Anyway, I have no idea who it is and it is legitimately driving me up a wall, but I’m on too much meds to do the effort of putting it in a reverse google image search.

Plus, a reverse google image search would only pull up Seto Kaiba.

So Kaiba takes us on a little flashback to his weird ass past, a weird ass past that just...doesn’t follow any of the established timelines, but I assume was shortly after adoption but before Seto got into a phase where he wore his school outfit everywhere and tried to shove his MMO off onto his Dad as a business model.

Seto is like 8 for some reason. I don’t know why, they kinda drew him younger this season anyway, like maybe they got a lot of fan mail and realized “Hey I think we made the 16 yo boy too sexy?” And they just toned Seto the hell down. That, and it’s a different animation team, and maybe they looked at Seto’s character design and were like “we don’t get paid enough to draw this well.” So...since Seto actually looks like a teen again, I guess his 12 year old self has to look like he’s in Elementary school.

Also, I only recognized this, because at some point in S3 as I was roasting Noah Kaiba’s weird fashion:

I remember distinctly roasting that little bow tie. I don’t remember when I wrote it, I think there was a version of this outfit that was in color...but I don’t remember where.

Anyway, it’s not the same jacket...but man that’s kind of awkward, ya? Like the maid who dressed Mokuba deffo got fired?

He um.

Turned the lights off a little bit.

Guys this villain is like...

...why does he think lights are scary? Like look at little Seto here. The boy is already bored. Seto duels on the edges of cliffs...he doesn’t care about the freakin dark.

We had a guy who killed everyone on the planet last season, and this season we have a little fashion gremlin standing in the corner and flicking the light switch going “wooooo you never catch me!” and it’s like...

...I’m starting to think this guy isn’t a witch.

Like we’re at Episode 6, there’s still time for this guy to be a witch...but I really am starting to think this guy is just...straight up not a witch. It’s everything Seto wanted, a rival who isn’t a freakin magic person...and sets Joey only fake on fire instead literally on fire like last time...

and Seto is just completely unhinged by it.

Anyway, I’m off to go drink a bowl of soup and pass out. If you’re new here, this is a link to read these in chrono order.

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

#yugioh #yu gi oh #ygo #S5 #Ep6 #Yugi Muto #Seto Kaiba #Joey Wheeler #Tea Gardner #Tristan Taylor #Mokuba Kaiba #zigfried von schroeder #rebecca hawkins #I talked about catz again #leon #but not the kings of leon guy #I mean he could be

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noladyme · 4 years ago

Text

The Frog Princess. Chapter 7

She had no wish to be bound down to anyone, but Y/N none the less found herself being dragged across the continent; to marry King Foltest of Temeria. Instead of pomp and spectacle; she was accompanied by the witcher, Geralt of Rivia. Their travels would bring both monsters, lust, love; and heartache. All sound tracked by an endearing buffoon of a bard, named Jaskier.

TW: Violence, language, sexual themes. Rated M.

“You’re going to need some new clothes”, Geralt said, as we were packing up, a little after noon. “O’Dimm will have his men looking for a young woman in a blue dress”. I sighed. “I shouldn’t have told them my name was Zaba. They’ll know to be looking for someone with that name”. “I think it’ll be fine”, he said. “But the clothes have to go”. I put my hands on my hips and smirked at him. “If you wanted me naked, you could just say so”, I laughed.

He dropped the satchel he’d been carrying; and walked up to me – sliding his arms around me, and cupping my bottom. “I’ve already had you once today, but I could go again”, he said; and kissed the tender skin under my ear.

“Hello!”, a voice called from a distance.

“If that’s Jaskier, I’m going to kill him”, Geralt growled. “If I don’t get to him first”, I mumbled. He smiled; and kissed me softly.

“Hello?”, the voice called; closer this time. “Are you the witcher? Geralt of Rivia?”. A short fat man was running in our direction; wearing a white tunic covered in red stains. Geralt drew his sword, and pushed me to stand behind him.

The man – clearly not used to running – stopped for a second, putting his hands on his knees to catch his breath. He waddled up to us; and Geralt put away his sword, clearly not sensing any danger from him. “I’m Harken Danis”, the man coughed. “I come from Birxen. I need your help”. Geralt grunted. “I already have a contract”, he answered. I put a hand on his back, signaling for him to hear the man out. “Please, master witcher, I’m desperate”, Danis said. “It’s my son. He’s in grave danger!”.

I stepped towards the man. “Please, come sit by the fire. Have some water”.

Danis followed me back to the fire, and sat down; accepting the waterskin I offered him. “Thank you, young lady. You are very kind”. Geralt sat down opposite him. “Say your peace”, he demanded. I chided him with my eyes.

Danis sighed. “My son, Ajvin, he’s been hexed by a succubus”. I bit my cheek to avoid laughing – making Geralt lift his brows at me. The man continued. “He’s lost his mind! He won’t listen to us; and my wife is terribly distraught”, Danis said, tears welling up in his eyes. “She’s cast him under some spell!”.

Geralt stood up and began kicking dirt into the fire. “Succubi don’t do spells. She didn’t make him lose his mind; his cock did that all on its own”. Danis scoffed. “I beg your pardon?”. Geralt sighed. “They have sex with their victims. It’s good sex; but the…”, he was looking for the word, “… prey, can leave at any time. They won’t force themselves on someone; only take advantage of the ones that accept their offer of a good time. Your son can walk away any time he wants”.

Danis began bawling; tears running down his fat cheeks. “Please sir! I have coin. I’ll pay you handsomely!”. Geralt let out a long groan. “How far away is Birxen?”, he asked. “It’s not far. An hour on horseback; due south”, Danis sobbed.

Geralt turned towards me. “We’ll be going out of our way”, he muttered. “We still have a long way to Vizima. One hour south isn’t going to make much of a difference”, I smiled. “And I get to see you in action again”. He grunted. “Turn on?”, he asked. “A little”, I admitted with a smirk. He narrowed his eyes at me.

“25 crowns”, Geralt said to Danis over his shoulder. “I-i can pay 20”, Danis answered. Geralt turned around. “You’re a butcher, yes?”, he said, looking at the mans stained clothes. “Y-yes”, he answered. “20, and 4 pounds of good meat”. “Mutton?”, Danis asked. “Anything but”, Geralt answered; looking at me over his shoulder. I smiled at him.

“Go back to your wife. We’ll be there as soon as we can”, he said. Danis dried his eyes. “Thank you, good sir!”, he said; and waddled back in the direction he’d been coming from.

---

After having packed up, we got on our horses, and began moving south. The fall air was still chilly, but the sun and lack of wind made the trek bearable. I was still smiling to myself at our strange encounter.

“You had sex with a succubus?”, I asked Geralt. “It was a long winter”, he answered. I laughed out loud. “Come on, witcher”, I said. “There has to be more to the story”. “Not really”, he answered. “It’s like I told the butcher. They choose a victim, offer themselves up; and in my case, I said yes”. I considered his words for a moment. “But they… drain their lovers, don’t they?”, I asked. “Yes”, he answered. “Like I said, it was a long winter”. I chuckled. “But… it was good?”, I smirked. He looked out the corner of his eyes at me. “I’ve had better”, he grunted. I smirked in response.

We made it to Birxen not long after. Danis was there to great us outside his shop – which seemed to double as his home, I realized, when his wife invited us inside for a meal.

The dimly lit room had a rank smell of fresh and old blood, coming from a table in the corner – seemingly the butchers’ workstation. On the floor lay a dog, almost as fat as its master. I went to scratch it behind its ear; but felt Geralt tug at my dress. “Not the time to make new friends”, he said. “Let’s just get this over with”.

“It seems all I do on this journey is eat, sleep and watch you fight”, I said below my breath, as the woman was tending to her pots. “That, and have sex”, Geralt muttered with a smirk. “Well that part is new. And much more fun than being attacked by monsters”, I answered. He grunted in response.

“It’s so kind of you to come help us, master. I am very worried about my Ajvin”, the butchers wife said. In contrast to her husband, she was quite skinny – but must have been very good cook, as her husbands’ girth was evidence of. She’d prepared a small feast of fried potatoes, vegetables, and a roast of pork. The butcher dug right in, gobbling down immeasurable amounts of potatoes, and a chunk of meat as large as Geralts upper arm. The sight of it made my stomach churn.

“How did you know where to find me?”, Geralt asked. “Well…”, Danis said, sucking his fingers, “… a man came through town a few days back. Said he was on his way to meet with a witcher, named Geralt of Rivia. He wondered if you’d been through here already. Said you’d be coming from the western shore; Attre. I told him you might have passed Tigg on your way, that he should search there”. “His name?”, Geralt asked impatiently. I kicked his leg under the table. “He called himself Ermion”.

Mousesack!, I thought. Geralt noticed my face lighting up, and squeezed my knee in recognition.

“Did he say anything else?”, I asked. “Only that he’d be travelling with a woman; and that he had information she needed to hear”, the wife answered. “Was that you?”. “No”, Geralt answered brusquely. I clenched my jaw.

“Your boy”, Geralt said. “Tell me about him”. Danis’ wife began crying. “There, there, Mirtha”, Danis said, patting her head with his large hand. “The witcher is here to help us now”. “Yes”, she bawled. “Yes, good sir. Please save my boy”. “I need information”; Geralt grumbled.

I tried to eat some of the food on my plate, but quickly lost my appetite; when I saw Danis move his attention from his crying wife, and back to devouring another serving of meat. “He’s a good boy, my Ajvin”, Mirtha cried. “Always brought me flowers, and sang such lovely songs”. “He should be doing less singing, and more butchering”, Danis grumbled. Mirtha dabbed at a blot of stray meat-juice from his chin. “Now, Harkin; don’t you go speaking ill of our boys singing”, she said. “It’s lovely”. The butcher scoffed. “It’s useless is what it is”, he said.

Geralt was growing impatient. “So he sings. What else?”. I kicked his leg again.

Mirtha poured another serving of ale into her husbands’ mug. “A few months ago, Ajvin went to gather flowers and plants for pressing”, she said. “He makes lovely little frames to hang on the wall”. She gestured to a collection of pretty little frames with pictures made of pressed rose hip flowers and daisies. “He was gone such a long time, and when he came home, his cheeks were flush, and he wouldn’t speak to us”, the woman continued.

“And then?”, I asked; earning a look from Geralt. “Well”, she continued. “This kept happening, you see. He’d go out in the morning, and not come back ‘til late at night; looking tired and spent”. Danis nodded. “Sat him down, I did!”, he said, mouth full of green beans. “Told him that he wasn’t pulling his weight around here. That he was scaring his mother. I insisted he tell us what he was doing, when he left the house”.

Mirtha began bawling again. “Said he’d been meeting a girl”, she sobbed. “But no normal girl would make a good boy leave his mother so distraught!”. Danis slammed his fist into the table, making the plates and mugs jump. “She’s a succubus, I tell you”, he roared. “Draining Ajvin of his seed, to create young’uns. Little devils! I’ve heard the stories…”. Mirtha blew her nose in her apron. “Save my boy, witcher!”, she begged.

Geralt sighed. “Give us a place to sleep tonight, and I’ll follow your boy to the… succubus, tomorrow morning”, he said. Mirtha smiled widely. “You can have the hayloft in the barn”, she said.

“Thank you for doing this, master witcher”, Danis said. “Mirtha’s been so upset, I haven’t had a decent meal in weeks”. “That why you were crying, back at our camp?”, I asked. “Well, I’ve lost at least 5 pounds from it. It’s unbearable!”.

---

My stomach was growling from not having been able to eat in front of Danis.

“You should never waste an opportunity to eat”, Geralt chided, and pulled out a serving of vegetables he’d smuggled from the table. “The sight of the butcher made me feel sick to the stomach”, I mumbled. “Why?”, Geralt asked. “Because he’s fat?” “Fat has nothing to do with it. You can enjoy food without being a slop about it”, I answered, before chowing down on the meal in front of me. “Look who’s talking”, he chuckled. “Fuck off”, I retorted, mouth full. “So, we’re following the boy tomorrow?”.

“I’m following him”, Geralt said, while unstrapping his sword from his back. “You’re staying here”. “Geralt!”, I whined. “No”, he said. “Even if this isn’t a succubus, it might get dangerous”.

I put down the carrot I had been chewing on, and wiped my hands. Geralt had sat down next to me, leaning against a beam holding up the roof. “I’ve spent the last week traipsing through the country with you; meeting ghosts, wild animals and necrophages. Yesterday, I stabbed a man in the lung. Now you won’t let me see you follow a butcher’s son through the woods?”. “No”, he repeated. I sighed; and looked at him. He chuckled. “It’s not going to work”, he said.

I hitched up my skirts; and went to sit on his lap – straddling him. “Y/N…”, he began. “Geralt…”, I interrupted him. “You expect me to let you track down a succubus on you own? You might never come back. We know what happened last time…”. He grunted. “You could try to remind me what I have to come back to”, he breathed, and leant in to kiss me.

I pulled back. “No”, I said, shaking my head. “No?”, he asked, confused. “You have a contract”, I said. “You’re supposed to protect me, keep me close”. He let out a long groan, frowning at me. “Y/N…”, he said. “Besides; if I’m not with you, how do you know I won’t run away?”, I smirked.

“I could tie you down”, he growled, putting one hand on my back, and the other on my bottom; pulling me hard towards him. Our groins met, and my breath hitched. “Is that a promise?”, I breathed, and raised a brow at him, biting my lip. He groaned, and kissed me. I tried to pull away, but this time he moved his hand from my back, and held it to the back of my head, to keep it there.

I giggled against his lips. “This is fun to you?”, he growled. “Very”, I answered. “I think the only real succubus here is you”, he said. “Well…”, I said, nipping lightly at his lower lip, “… maybe you should take what’s offered”.

He let out a long groan; and pressed my hips closer to his, letting me feel his hardness. He leant in to kiss me again; but I put a finger to his lips. “Oh…”, I said, “… but I’m still coming with you”.

---

At dawn I woke from the sound of moving in the stable bellow the hayloft. Geralt was fully dressed, and sitting still as a statue; looking out the small glassless window at the gable. He turned his head to look at me, and put a finger to his lips. I nodded. The rustling downstairs ended with the closing of the stable doors. “Get dressed”, Geralt whispered, keeping his eyes on something moving outside.

Moments later we were walking through the woods behind the butcher’s house. Geralt wasn’t making a sound as he moved – I on the other hand was finding it difficult to avoid stepping on twigs and rustling leaves. Geralt looked back at me. “Try to step where I do”, he whispered.

I followed his moves; and soon we left the woods, moving into a meadow. About 100 yards away, I saw a scrawny young man, picking flowers. “Ajvin”, I whispered. Geralt nodded.

We crouched behind a large boulder. Suddenly, a pretty young woman came running into the meadow. Ajvin stood up, opened his arms, and she ran into his embrace, kissing him passionately. They sat down and began talking. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I saw Geralt smirking.

“What’s happening?”, I whispered. He chuckled. “Her name is Lysa”, he said. “He’s singing her a song he wrote about her”. “Aaww”, I smiled. “That’s sweet”. “It’s a terrible song”, he smiled. “Sing it to me”, I said. “I don’t sing”, he grunted. “Well, tell me the words, then”, I demanded. He sighed. “Lysa my dear. Your skin is so fine. Won’t you, oh won’t you, oh won’t you be mine”. I laughed. “You’re right. It’s a terrible song”.

Lysa leant against Ajvin, and he put his arm around her. I put my chin on Geralts shoulder. “They’re sweet”, I said. “They’re young and stupid”, he answered. “Maybe. But they’re happy. They chose each other”. Geralt looked at me, his eyes suddenly sad. “I’m sorry I can’t give you that”, he said. “I can’t give you flowers and songs in a meadow”.

I kissed his shoulder. “I don’t want flowers and meadows”, I said. “I just want a choice”. He let out a long breath; and then kissed my forehead.

Ajvin and Lysa began kissing and then quickly undressing each other. “Oh…”, I said. “Yes”, Geralt agreed. “We should probably…”. “Absolutely”, I said. He stood up, and took my hand to help me on my feet. Standing in front of him; he put his hand on my cheek, and softly kissed me.

We left the meadow as quickly as we had arrived.

---

Deciding Ajvide wasn’t in any danger, we had time to waste before returning to the butcher. Much to Geralts dismay, I decided to spend that time fully clothed; and working on the herbs and plants I’d gathered. I was standing over a makeshift worktable – an old tree that had fallen over – carefully making thin slices of the mandrake. “Thank you for this sacrifice”, I whispered to the almost humanoid-like root laying in front of me.

“You talking to the plants now?”, Geralt grumbled. He was standing leaning against a tree. “Mandrake. If it doesn’t kill you with its scream when you pull it from the ground; it might drive you to suicide when you ingest it”, I said. “I have to be respectful in the preparations of it. It didn’t choose its final purpose in this world; and it might take revenge on me”.

Geralt went to stand behind me; leaning over my shoulder to look. “Too thick”, he grunted. “I’m slicing it perfectly fine”, I said. He slid his arms around my waist, and pressed his hips towards my bottom; making clear his intention. “Not what I meant, little frog”, he breathed into my ear; and moved his hand towards the apex of my thighs. I gasped slightly. “Not in front of the mandrake”, I chuckled. “I’m sure it wouldn’t mind having it’s dying sight be of your perfect breasts bouncing”, he moaned; and let his other hand grab a hold of aforementioned part of my body.

Desperately trying to keep my head; I shrugged him off. Geralt looked at me with a frown. “I need to finish this”, I smiled. He groaned. “Besides, master witcher”, I smirked. “Don’t you have a contract to finish? The case of the non-existing succubus?”. He smiled wickedly. “I though we established last night, that you were the succubus”. I scoffed. “Oh, so now I’m draining the life out of you”. “Fuck”, he groaned. “Bad choice of words”. I smiled at him forgivingly. “Once I’m done here, we can go back to Danis and collect your pay”, I said. “Then, we can find a nice spot where you can fuck the living daylights out of me as much as you want”.

He looked at me with dark eyes. “Hurry”, he growled.

---

In the late afternoon we were back at the butcher’s house. He was waiting inside. “Well?”, he demanded. “Is it done? Is the demon dead?”.

Geralt sat down at the table, looking at him with hard eyes. “The demon is a young woman, who’s fallen in love with your son”, he said. “And he loves her”. My heart jumped a little at his words. “Love?”, Danis spattered; throwing what appeared to be a pigs-snout to the oversized dog on the floor. “Love has nothing to do with it. What love would have a boy ignore his parents plans for him?”.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”, I asked. “He’s supposed to take over the shop here. Find him a good wife that’ll fatten him up and bear him some children. Not run around in the fields with some… harlot!”. I was about to scream some choice words at him; when I felt Geralts hand on my knee under the table.

“Danis”, he said pointedly. “You brought me here to kill a succubus; even though I told you that such creatures carry no real danger. Now, you want me to… what, slit the throat of a girl; for no other reason than the fact that she makes your son happy?”. The butcher looked at Geralt with enraged eyes. “I’m not paying you anything until you get rid of that… that succubus!”, he snarled. “She must be a demon! Why else would Ajvin…”.

He was interrupted by Mirtha opening the door. “Harken, our boy is back!”, she beamed. We all went outside. “Witcher, you did it! Our son has come home!”, Mirtha sobbed through happy tears.

Ajvin was standing in front of us; his hair tussled, and it seemed he’d put on his shirt inside out. “It’s alright ma’. I’m here now”, he said; and hugged his crying mother. “Yes you are, son”, Danis smiled. “And now no more of that rubbish with that wench. You can get back to butchering with me”. Ajvin looked angrily at his father. “Don’t call her that!”, he said. “I love Lysa. We’re getting married!”. Danis gasped. “You, what?”, he snarled. ��You’re mad, boy!”.

I felt Geralt tense up next to me. I grasped his hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze, which he returned after having relaxed his shoulders.

“She’s bewitched you, Ajvin”, Mirtha sobbed. “You have lost your mind; you must have!”. Ajvin smiled gently at her. “I haven’t, ma’”, he said. “I love Lysa, and she loves me. She makes me happy. She makes me dream up the most beautiful songs and poems; just from the way she looks at me”. I stifled a smile, remembering the beautiful song Geralt had recited to me in the meadow. They embraced; and Mirtha’s tears once again seemed to become happy ones.

“Rubbish!”, Danis cried out. “Get your head out of the clouds, Ajvin. You are meant to be a butcher – like me and your granda’ – not a singer”.

“But da’. I don’t want to be a butcher”, Ajvin said. “I want to be a poet. I don’t like killing animals”. “Rubbish”, Danis repeated. Ajvin shook his head. “It’s not rubbish. I’m going to Oxenfurt to train. Just like the great Jaskier. And Lysa’s coming with me”. Geralt raised an eyebrow.

Mirtha looked at her son with pleading eyes. “Is this what you want, son? Will this make you truly happy?”, she asked. He nodded. “It is, ma’”.

The butcher stormed towards Geralt; with a speed I didn’t know he had in him. “You!”, he yelled; pointing an angry finger at the witcher. “I’m not paying you as much as a rotten parsnip!”. Geralt looked ready to throttle the man, but before he could, Mirtha walked up behind him; and smacked him across the back of his head. “Shut up, Harkin!”, she growled. “You brought him here; you’ll pay him!”. “But…”, Danis tried. “No buts!”, Mirtha said. “Our boy has made up his mind. And you’ll support him”.

Danis muttered a curse; and then handed Geralt a small purse. “You’re not getting the meat!”, he snarled; and waddled back into his house.

Nodding at both Mirtha and Ajvin, we went to get the horses. The young man caught up to us at the stable doors.

“Are you Geralt of Rivia? The White Wolf?”, he asked. Geralt grunted. “That is…”, Ajvin looked flabbergasted. “You sir… you are so lucky to have been graced with the friendship of the great bard, Jaskier. Please tell me; what’s he like?”. Geralt seemed as if he was just about to say something rather unpleasant. “Very focused on his craft”, I said quickly. “His craft being women, drinking and laziness”, Geralt muttered below his breath. I bumped his arm with my shoulder, and smiled widely at Ajvin. “Good luck in Oxenfurt”, I said. “And good health on your marriage”. Ajvin beamed at me. “Thanks, my lady”.

He went to walk back to the house. “Oh!”, he said. “I nearly forgot”. He handed over some folded fabric and leather. “Ma’ said she’d noticed a patch on your dress; and seeing as you’re travelling what seems to be quite a way; it would be better for you to have something appropriate to wear”. I looked at the clothes I was holding. A mix of greys and browns; and what looked like a bright purple shirt. Ajvin half smiled at me. “I dyed it myself”, he said. I thanked him. “Safe journeys to you both”, he said, and left us.

I chuckled, and shook my head. “Are your contracts always like this?”, I asked Geralt. He grunted. “Not exactly”, he said. “But it’s not the first time someone mistook a pretty girl for a demon”. We got on our horses, and left Birxen behind.

---

At nightfall we came upon the ruins of an old cottage. “I wonder who lived here”, I said. “Tonight, we do”, Geralt grumbled; and began to tie the horses to a tree outside the ramshackle building. My stallion began making neighing sounds. “Don’t even think about it. I’ll make you a gelding”, Geralt growled at it; and led Roach to another tree, a few yards away. “Bayrd”, I said. “His name is Bayrd. The one who sings”. Geralt chuckled. “You’re mad, little frog”. I grinned at him.

That night; Geralt fucked the living daylights out of me; as I looked at the stars through the holes in the roof of the old cottage. Once he was finished – having made sure we both met a more than satisfying end – I fell asleep with my ear to his chest; lulled by the sound of his slow heartbeat.

---

Thanks for reading.

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

- no lady

Tag list:

@ayamenimthiriel

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher #the witcher netflix #the witcher fic

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crispyjenkins · 5 years ago

Note

Hi just wanted to say that I loved your fic about obi’s new armor that his troopers gave him and the implications behind it. It was amazing and just an all around great read! Though I was just wondering if you were planning on doing a sequel and if not could I request one where it is after Obi-Wan is found and recovering and the 212th are just worrying about their amazing General because holy moly did he go through a lot and little angst with some soft fluff from his family and love Cody.

(Anon, your ask got buried and I no longer know if you meant this Codywan or the Obvious/Domestic one. If you meant the other, shoot me another ask and I’ll fill that one asap!

very minor drug overdose and near death experience warnings for this one! slytheringinger300 wanted hurt/comfort and who am i to refuse ( ˘ ³˘) i meant to get to the rest of ghost company, but it got a little repetitive, so i hope this is okay!

first part here!)

“... never seen this suppressor before, sir, I don’t... mess with the detox... run its course... yes, sir.”

“... updated, Wupi... days from Coruscant, and General Skywalker... rotation.”

“... let you know, sir.”

—

It’s Waxer that carries him back to the Negotiator, one leg and arm swung over his shoulders while Wooley collects the scattered pieces of his armour. Cody retrieves the chestplate personally, and somehow manages to convey unadulterated rage even through his expressionless helmet.

Obi-Wan hates it when Cody is angry, it means it’s all gone wrong, and Obi-Wan never knows how to keep his commander afloat when it’s something enough to break his perfect calm.

Woozily, Obi-Wan thinks he isn’t in much shape to be keeping anyone afloat, unable to even stop his head from bouncing against the back of Waxer’s shoulder. Blaster fire echoes around him, muzzle flashes blinding his half-open eyes, and Obi-Wan doesn’t remember there being anyone other than the Nikto, but clearly there must have been a crew of some sort. Now, why his men hadn’t taken care of them on the way in, he has no idea.

‘Just a little longer, sir,’ some part of Obi-Wan’s brain tells him, sounding suspiciously like Cody. A very worried Cody.

Frowning, it takes Obi-Wan significantly more concentration than it should to shape his thoughts into words. ‘I am only very drugged, darling, though regrettably not the fun kind.’

A stumbled footstep, a fizzle of comms, and then Cody’s voice returns, ‘General?’

‘Yes, hello there. It is quite remarkable you’re able to hear me, are you sure the vode cannot be Force sensitive?’

‘Is now the time, sir? You hardly have a pulse, you shouldn’t—’

Waxer shakes under Obi-Wan, or wait, no, it’s the floor that shakes, as if something has knocked into the ship, but it also knocks whatever connection he’d had to Cody completely out of his grasp. Concentration doesn’t return, and Obi-Wan decides it’s a useless exercise anyway, letting the easy listlessness that’s carried him this far carry him again.

Cody’s voice cuts through his haze just long enough for Obi-Wan to register that they’ve reboarded the Negotiator, and that Wupi is very, very unhappy with him.

“We ever tell you it was Wupi’s idea?” Cody asks, sleepy cadence prodding at the edges of Obi-Wan’s mind. “‘Never seen him get shitfaced enough to miss an appointment before.”

Confused, Obi-Wan tries to sit up, and not only finds that he can’t, but that the Force also tells him to stay the kriff down, and he really must’ve been worse off than he thought if the Force is concerned about him personally.

He tentatively reaches out with his mind, and can’t feel much further than the medbay, but that’s alright, he can feel Cody’s presence just fine, sat next to his bed and hunched over something in his lap. He’s tired, Obi-Wan notes, but that molten metal anger is gone, replaced with a resignation he’ll need more time to decipher; he shudders to think how long Cody’s been sitting there.

Because he knows Cody’s been there as long as he’s been able to convince Wupi to let him, and the thought doesn’t scare Obi-Wan as much as he thought it would.

“They’ve all been through,” Cody continues, chair creaking as he resettles himself and Obi-Wan catches a whiff of paint. “Everything is Shiny-bright again, ‘looks even better than Kix’s at this point.” No one’s armour looks as good as Kix’s, not when he keeps it immaculately clean and touches up the paint twice a month. “I had to kick Wooley out, he’s in here any time he’s off shift; I think Wupi’s going to murder him in his sleep.”

Obi-Wan wants to snort at that, but settles for a tiny twitch of his fingers that Cody surely wouldn’t notice: Wupi’s been threatening to kill Wooley since Kamino, Obi-Wan doubts he has to worry about it these days.

Cody sighs, something bone-deep and exhausted. “Wupi says you’ll be coming out of it soon, he didn’t want to do more than flush your system in case... General Ti says there’s a very low chance of any lasting damage, but kark knows none of us know anything about the Force, so we’ll just have to wait and see.”

His easy grasp of the Force even while mostly-comatose assures Obi-Wan he’ll be perfectly fine once he wakes, but he can’t actually assure anybody else until then, which is as frustrating as anything when he’s right there, just out of reach.

Cody moves again, setting something large on the cart next to the bed as he gets to his feet. Instead of leaving, though, he places a heavy hand on Obi-Wan’s chest, right over his sternum. “You’ve been walking around with my kar’ta for months now, General. Let’s get you set to rights so you can keep doing that.” He taps two fingers over Obi-Wan’s breastbone, where the beskar’ta would be, and Obi-Wan’s heart lurches.

He hadn’t... He didn’t think Cody had meant it like that, anything more than a protection charm, but then again Obi-Wan knows very little of Mandalorian armour traditions, how could he have known, oh Force, is that what the bounty hunter meant—?

“Your thoughts are very loud, sir,” Cody tells him with a soft laugh, though Obi-Wan is sure his shields are firmly in place. ‘Rex says I should give you the chestplate properly, but you’ll have to be fully awake for that, sir.’

‘Well, that’s not quite fair, Cody.’

‘Stop getting drugged, then. Wupi only has so much hair left.’

Cody taps his sternum once more before his footsteps take him away, and Obi-Wan settles back to give many things quite a bit more thought.

Mando’a: vode — “brother, comrade”, meant specifically here for the clones kar’ta — “heart” beskar’ta — “iron heart”, the elongated hex-shape common in Mandalorian armour designs (great post here comparing them to katana tsuba). also called kar’ta beskar or “heart of the iron”.

#codywan #prompt #crispy writes #anon #slytheringinger300 #commander cody #obi-wan kenobi #cody/obi-wan #fill #fanfiction #prequel trilogy #star wars tcw #clone wars #ask box is always open!#ghost company #medic wupi #trooper wooley

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stellarcat52 · 4 years ago

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Timeless Blue chapter 10

Douxie took less than two seconds to realize something was wrong. Giant ice spikes filled Hex Tech and the area around it “No, no.. no.. no no...” But even as he entered, the clarity of it’s empty interior was denied somewhere in his heart.

“Claire? Toby? Steve? Krel...?” He didn’t want confirmation that Krel wasn’t there, that their promise had been broken. “What happened here?”

The head of Krel’s fatherly blank suddenly started sparking, mumbling various outdated phrases that just increased Douxie’s urge to kick something. “Woah hoo-“ apparently the impact of Douxie’s foot was what the robot needed to be useful.

A recording blinks up onto a screen. Ultimately it was utter chaos, the order and the guardians fighting, Toby reciting his will, a lot of crashing and yelling.

The recording almost seems to be over as it starts glitching right after Bellroc stepped on it, but a view flickers back for a few seconds. Immediately the camera drops from Krel’s arms and gives Douxie a full shot of what happens next.

Krel had at least one person behind him and a portal pushing Bellroc and Skrael’s magic back at them. Even through the camera Douxie could tell Krel was tired. Maybe none of them had slept in days. The portals dropped and suddenly the camera goes dark.

“No... this wasn’t supposed to happen.” Douxie discards the blank, “no no no..! Augh if only we had more time Arch!” Douxie spoke to the cat on his shoulder, who was equally as troubled as him.

“If we were able to harness the power of the heart of Avalon perhaps we could,” of course Archie was the first to think of any possibility.

“But we’d need something to connect it with, Camelot and all of the stuff on it is useless now.” Douxie tapped his foot, suddenly pacing. “Everyone’s gone and of course it’s left to us to figure this out.”

“They have Nari so we cannot let them get the seals Doux,” Archie put a paw on the book still in Douxie’s arm. “Merlin trusts you to do the right thing, so do all of us.”

“Right. Then I need to go save everyone, no pressure Arch.”

“No one ever said being a leader was easy.”

“Is this why you blew me off Casperan?” Zoe stepped out of the back room, a large ice crystal half melted off of her hand.

It took Douxie a moment too long to think of how to explain anything to her. “It’s okay, after seeing them get through that blue guy, well it makes sense that you prioritized that.”

“Blue guy, Krel. Zoe you’ve worked with combining magic and tech before right?” Douxie got an idea.

“Yeah it’s kinda part of this gig.” She takes one look at Douxri’s face and groans. “This better not get me killed.”

“Trust me, it won’t, I don’t think so at least.” He takes out a shard of Merlin’s staff, “All we need is more time, right?”

———

A projection of Douxie appears in the Order’s lair. “Hisirdoux is here! Hold your hexes!” He calls as Skrael makes a threatening movement towards Steve. “If you still want these that is.” He waves the seals in front of him. “I’ll be at the cafe, see you there.”

———

“Step forward and try your luck, find the seals and win the planet. Remember, you only get one try per apocalypse.” Douxie was grinning and everything was in place. A simple trick, the order could choose any bowl and they’d get a time bomb, then he’d go save his friends.

Honestly the idea of Krel having to absorb direct hits from the order’s magic scared Douxie. He can imagine the blood red and pale blue lines that would run along his already unique arms that could only ever bring destruction, pain. Those things didn’t fit into who Krel was. Honestly the emotions behind magic didn’t match Krel much. Fear and love maybe, but things like anger didn’t seem prominent in him at all.

The order chose and snapped Douxie fully back to the present. In just one swift movement, the bomb went flying to the order, creating a trap of frozen time to engulf them both.

He ran outside to join Zoe in the airship. “You’ve got some guts to mess with time Douxie, how have you changed so much in like, two days?” Zoe looked bewildered by everything Douxie had done that night.

“My whole life people have been telling me I can’t do things, and I believed them so I never tried. But I am strong enough, I’ve been strong enough, just nobody saw it until those guys dared to trust me.” He stared up at the flying castle, a boiling nervousness lingering in his chest. “Plus, it’s not like I had many other options.”

By the time they’ve gotten to the Order’s lair fear has been pushed to the back of Douxie’s mind.

Together, with AAARRRGGGHHH and Archie of course, Douxie helps free everyone. The whole group seemed worried, tired, both or just straight up angry. Krel most of all, just seemed drained, as soon as he was freed he started leaning on Douxie. Despite his own tiredness, Douxie was fully willing to help keep the prince somewhat upright.

“You okay Love?” Krel groans in response, putting one hand to his head as if he had a headache, which knowing the results of overused magic he did. “We’ll work on your magic if you want later, I only saw part of what happened at hex tech but I think you overused it. I’m just happy you’re okay.”

“Not all of us, Nari was put somewhere else!” Claire somewhat interrupted, frantic with nerves.

Douxie notices Krel look down, shame being present in both of them, “Alright. I’ll go get here, you guys head out there and meet up with Zoe, she has the seals. I’ll go get Nari.”

Douxie tried to get Krel to shift over to Claire and Steve, fully expecting that he wouldn’t be able to even stand right now. To his surprise Krel had enough strength to not only stand but walk on his own.

“Not this time. Every time we split up something bad happens, I’m coming with you.” As Krel grabbed his shoulders, using his other hands to pull at Douxie’s, the wizard saw every emotion that conducts magic inside Krel’s eyes in the form of tears, anger, sadness, fear, and love. “I can’t leave not knowing if you’re going to make it out of here.”

Douxie reaches up to wipe away a falling tear. “Alright, everyone else, go to Zoe and try to find a way to help Jim. Krel, Archie, you’re with me.”

Krel cracks a smile, and Douxie only breaks eye contact with him as Archie clears his throat. “I’m sorry lovebirds, but we don’t have enough time to be standing around.”

“Fine,” although Douxie bites his lip before using his hand to pull Krel down for a quick kiss. “For good luck, let’s hope we don’t need it.”

After a moment of shock, Krel smiles. “Let’s go save the world, Master Wizard.”

#timeless blue fic #krexie #drel #krouxie #magic Krel au #krel x douxie #douxie x krel #I know I changed a major plot point #the seals ain’t with the order

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resinatingbeauty · 4 years ago

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I had been wanting to make an elemental tile set for a while and finally just went ahead and made the first design samples in between orders yesterday. These runes may be placed on your altar or used during the invocation of elements or for divination.

They are made from non toxic art resin and hand painted / designed using alcohol ink, dried flowers/paper flowers (Earth) and mica pigments. I considered adding some little fishes to the Water tile and may still offer that as a variation if anyone is interested. You may find this new rune set on sale for the next two days in my shop! If you use the link below, you will also receive a promo code for an additional $5 off your cart subtotal of $20.00+

Also, I still have plenty of items for anyone interested in an intuitively chosen witchy mystery box that includes my own hand crafted items, herbs / Botanicals, altar and spell supplies, and more (see listing details for all items included)

I have seen MANY other mystery boxes that follow the same theme and I can promise you that you will receive ABSOLUTELY NO:

•Bath bombs (sorry if you actually wanted bath bombs, but I don't make them and therefore will not select them for your box)

•Stickers, Pins, and Other "Filler"- Whether you choose 5, 10, 15, or 20+ items for your mystery box, I will never fill your mystery box with useless filler. My decision to offer these mystery boxes came from a place of love and need- I have so many of my own handmade creations (Talismans, thermogenic crystals, beaded jewelry, spell beads, crystal jewelry, pendants, trays, wands, candles, pendulums / divination tools, beauty masks, soaps, scrubs, and more) that I either had listed for some time and they didn't sell or I never got around to listing at all that I would rather hand select for someone I know will appreciate them than sell them bottom dollar to someone who I know will resell them at a much higher price, and thus, I have an abundance of materials to create these things as well as an abundance of spell crafting and altar items due to buying in bulk.

I sincerely wished to used mystery boxes as a way to give baby witches a 'starter kit' of essential herbs and altar items, adept witches a way to boost their spiritual inventory, and a way to introduce pagans, Wiccans, and anyone interested in magick / the occult a hand selected, curated box of items they can use and maybe find something new they love.

•Toys- aside from the occasional voodoo or 'hex doll', mystery boxes will not contain toys. Mystery boxes are intended for those 18+ for entertainment / spiritual purposes only and contain small objects that can be choking hazards to children and pets.

•Incense Sticks or Candles Individually Counted- A friend and regular of mine showed me a mystery box she had purchased from another Etsy seller that she had paid $50 for. The listing details stated that each box would contain 10-20 items. 8 of those items were incense sticks / candles the seller counted individually. I cant. If either of these items are included in a cluster, they will be counted as a set, therefore essentially one item unless a larger item is included in your box and I literally have no room for much else.

•Non Magickal Items- As said before, the witchy theme is intentional and I wish to stick to it. If jewelry is included, it will be in the form of talismans or crystal jewelry that has some kind of spiritual property that is outlined in your manifest. The only non witchy items included in this box are still spiritual in a way.

That would be my own self care creations in the form of masks, scrubs, soaps, oils, and serums that are intended to be incorporated in your self care routine that will also assist you spiritually, physically, and emotionally. When I graduated high school I pursued a license as an esthetician and Cosmetologist. Financial hardships caused those licenses to lapse, but I still have the knowledge and know how to apply that to my craft and integrate organic, sustainably sourced ingredients many of which come from my own backyard :)

Each mystery box includes an antique scroll manifest like the one shown above for a customer's special request box that identifies each selection and its potential uses / properties. They start at $10 and are currently on sale right now 15% off until February 1st.

I am a one witch show- please allow me a few days to compile your order and have it shipped to you. If you are trying to meet a deadline, ordering a gift or wish to place a customized or personalized order, feel free to contact me! I will be happy to work with you to manifest your dreams!

Click for Etsy Shop & Coupon

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arrow-guy · 4 years ago

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Author and Auror (7/??)

Synopsis: Eleanore Vaughan has never been one for the spotlight. Her cousin, Rosaline, is the one best suited to the limelight, and is happier for the attention. Though Nora is most comfortable tucked away in her book shop, what happens when Grindelwald’s sudden takeover flips her world upside-down and thrusts her into the inner circle?

A/N: Okay, this chapter is particularly Dramatic and we’ll learn a little more about Nora than we have in other chapters. She’s a little more assertive than she’s been in previous chapters, which was kind of fun to play around with. Again, I am quite a bit behind where @thorne93 is in our collaboration, but I’ll catch up eventually. Until then, please enjoy lmao

Previously, with Rosaline....

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Pairing: Theseus ScamanderxOFC

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Canon typical violence, dueling, minor injury

part 6

Twelve aurors sit around the table with Theseus at the head. Tina sits to his right with me on his left and Newt next to me. The aurors grow restless after fifteen minutes of silence and Theseus finally decides to start the meeting.

“As you all very well know, we’ve had a break in the Rosaline Vaughan case,” he says. “Seeing as she’s paired with one of the most feared wizards in the world, we should be wary of what this could mean for the wizarding leadership in England.”

“And just what does that mean?” a blond auror asks.

“I’m sure you all remember Ms. Vaughan’s campaign for minister several years back, Dawes. While I myself have not been fully privy to her dealings between then and now, I’m certain that her cousin is more than capable of explaining.” He gestures for me to speak.

“Rosaline was at the top of her class at Hogwarts. She worked her way through the ministry ranks in a few short years and began campaigning for Minister. She’s powerful and wicked smart. Grindelwald, as you very well know, is also powerful, and extremely dangerous. Now he’s coupled himself with Rosaline. I don’t know what he’s planning to do with her, but she’s still very influential in many ministry circles and has maintained just about every contact from when she was running for minister. If he can use that to his advantage, all hope for us could be lost.”

“And what makes you think she’d do any of that?”

I snort. “Who in their right mind would get engaged to Grindelwald? She’s probably bewitched, or something.”

“You’ve got no way to prove that. What if she just wanted more power for herself?” Dawes asks, looking much too smug for my liking.

“Are you mad?!” I hiss, my anger getting the better of me.

“Rosaline wasn’t power hungry,” Newt interjects. “She stepped away from her campaign, didn’t she? She was a hair's breadth away from being one of the most powerful people in wizarding London, and she walked away. Why would anyone looking for power take a job as an assistant to a magizoologist? The closest they’d ever get to power is a dragon, and they’re not exactly the type to help anyone with anything.”

Dawes goes silent, scowling at both Newt and I.

“What’s wrong, Dawes?” I ask. “ You look as if someone stuffed a wedge of lemon in your mouth.”

He snorts. “It’s just that I’ve got to wonder exactly why a shop attendant and a zookeeper are being brought onto a case as important as this.”

I shove my chair back from the table, wand already in hand. Theseus places a hand on my shoulder, silently telling me to stand down.

“Are you questioning my judgement?” he asks, his eyes narrowing.

“No, sir, I just-”

“You don’t seem to understand these two as well as I do,” Theseus says. “Eleanore Vaughan was the best dueler in her graduating year. Newton Scamander, my brother, has more experience tracking and detaining living beings than anyone in this room.” Dawes says nothing. “Do you need a demonstration?”

I watch as he tries to sink down into his chair.

“I’d pay to see that,” the witch sitting next to Tina says.

Murmurs of agreement ripple through the Aurors in the room and I look to Theseus with satisfaction. Newt has one hand covering his mouth to hide his smile and I see Tina choke back a laugh.

“Do you think you’re up for a duel, Dawes?” I ask. “It’s been nearly fifteen years since I was in school. A lot can change.” Theseus snorts and I smack his arm.

I can see Dawes eye twitch. “Only if you want to,” he says indignantly.

“Then it’s settled!” I push myself up from my chair and gesture to the doorway. “Shall we take this outside?”

“Fine,” he grumbles.

It’s a quick walk down to the training rooms. There are still groups of young aurors working out and duelling one another when we walk in. All activity ceases as soon as Theseus walks through the doors. Every single trainee stands at attention until Theseus says otherwise. He tells them to line up against the walls and put up shield charms to protect them from any stray spells, jinxes, or hexes.

“Sorry, sir, but who exactly’s gonna be duelin’?” one trainee asks.

“Auror Dawes has so kindly volunteered himself to duel Ms. Vaughan today,” Theseus explains. “I expect you’ll understand what you’re meant to learn once the duel is over.”

Murmurs ripple through the congregated aurors and trainees. I block them out as I get into position at one end of the gym. Dawes takes his time getting into position, stripping his jacket and shirt off as he goes, leaving him in a white singlet and his slacks. I raise my eyebrows and look to Theseus who just shrugs and walks over.

“He’s trying to intimidate you, I think,” he says.

“Hm,” I hum and tuck my wand back into my pocket and work open the top button of my blouse. “Suppose I’ll have to do the same, yeah?”

Theseus blushes but laughs all the same when I’m down to my crimson silk camisole. He takes my vest and top from me and backs off to the sidelines to referee. There are several whistles from the trainees as I pull my hair back into a loose bun and ready my wand.

“Come on, Dawes. You may be under the employ of the Ministry, but I haven't the time to stand around all day and wait for you to finish with your little stretches.”

Dawes looks up and his face goes beet red when he takes in my appearance. “Aren’t you a little indecent?”

“Same could be said of you with that gut you’re working on there. I should expect an experienced dueler to appreciate a full range of motion. Now,” I lift my wand. “Shall we blither on like idiots, or duel?”

I can practically hear him grind his teeth from where I stand and I have to forcibly keep a smirk from my face. We bow to one another and ready our wands. Dawes is the first to act, throwing a loud and aggressive incarcerous at me with little thought. I cast a quick protego and the spell fizzles out before it even reaches me. In retaliation, I cast a stinging jinx and a full body bind one after the other. Dawes is only able to protect against the first jinx and his hit with the body bind immediately after. He struggles against the spell and growls angrily. I tilt my head to the side and wait for him to break free of the spell.

“Nora…” Theseus warns.

I wave him off and turn back just in time to see Dawes free himself and advance on me, sending a cutting curse my way. I dodge it and glare at him.

“You tried to cut me?!” I hiss.

“We never set rules, remember?” He seems much too pleased with himself

“Diffindo,” I hiss. I flick my wand at him and a small cut slices vertically up his bicep.

He cries out and grabs at his injured arm. He tries to fire off another spell but I shield myself from it before casting silencio coupled with a flipendo. He manages to right himself and stumbles to his feet, hands immediately flying to his mouth. He tries to say something and nothing comes out. I cast locomotor mortis and his legs snap together. Next comes a full body bind, and a quick depulso sends him flying across the room. He slides to a stop against the wall. I crouch down beside him and tilt his chin up with the tip of my wand.

“Don’t ever fucking question me again. Do you understand me?” He nods frantically and I point my wand at his mouth. “Finite incantatem.”

I walk away from him and he calls after me.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

I shake my head. “No you’re not.”

Theseus snorts and hands my blouse back. I spell the wrinkles from it and shrug into it, swiftly doing up the buttons and tucking it into my slacks. I leave my vest unbuttoned and turn to address the onlookers.

“So. What have we learned today?” I ask.

“That you should be a fucking auror, that’s what,” one young man says. The room erupts into laughter.

“Aside from that,” Theseus says.

“Overconfidence is useless,” a mousy girl says. “And underestimating our opponents can be deadly, if not, in the very least, bad for our health.”

“Exactly. Now, as you were.” Theseus pulls one of his aurors to the side as we’re headed for the door. “Get him to a healer. If they ask what happened, just tell them he was a prick and got what was coming to him.”

They nod and hurry over to help Dawes to his feet and usher him out the door as soon as he’s steady enough.

“I genuinely didn’t mean to cut him that deep,” I mutter as they stumble past. “Think I may have gone a little overboard there at the end.”

Theseus shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. I meant what I said. He got what was coming to him. After all this time out of school, you’re still a brilliant dueler.”

“Aw, you’re just saying that.”

He shakes his head and slings one arm over my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “I would never, and will never say anything to you that I don’t mean.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I need to ask you something.”

“Of course, what is it?”

“Newt has been avoiding Tina, hasn't he? And whenever Rosaline is mentioned he goes quiet,” I lift my eyebrows and he presses his lips together. “Quieter than usual, anyways. I was told he wouldn't stop talking about Tina after he came back from the state's, but something has changed since Paris.”

“I can't answer a question you haven't asked, Theseus.”

“Has he got feelings for Rosaline?”

I nod slowly. Theseus sighs. “I haven't known very long. He told me when we were in Norway.”

“Why didn't he say anything sooner?”

I glance around and pull him into his office when I'm sure the coast is clear. “You know how your brother is. He's not exactly the most socially adept, he'll admit that freely enough, and when Rosaline started working with him she'd said something about not wanting anyone to break her heart.”

He scowls. “Surely that couldn't have been true after all these years.”

“Perhaps, but he took it to heart and did his best to move on. But Rosaline confessed that she loved him in Paris and then, well… everything went pear shaped. Newt is still processing things, and certain things have been pushed aside while he does that.”

“His relationship with Tina.” I nod and he scrubs a hand over his face. “Alright then… do you think it's wise to have her on this case given the circumstances?”

“She's a damn good auror. It'd be a shame to waste her skills, especially given the fact that her sister joined Grindelwald.”

“Of course. Then we've got our team then, don't we?”

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

Part 8

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, please reblog, comment, and/or shoot me ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

#theseus scamanderxreader #readerxtheseus scamander #theseus scamander x reader #reader x theseus scamander #theseus scamander #newt scamander

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one-shots-blog · 5 years ago

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Volturi

A/N: Hi! This is part one of my series, Sei la mia anima gemella.

Jay stared in disbelief at the figure running through people wearing red cloaks. "Edward!" The women yelled before tackling the guy that was undressing. Jay knew what type of creature he was. A vampire.

Jay inspected the women and gasped in horror, realizing that was her cousin, Bella. "Dray, I have to go take care of something," she said, grabbing her boyfriend's attention. Draco glances at her with a curious expression but does not question her. He gives her a quick peck on the lips before talking to Blaise.

Jay mutters a cast to hide herself and her scent, knowing the vampire would know whether or not she was there. Quickly, she makes her way to the closing doors, slipping through at the last second. A booming sound rang through the castle as the doors slammed shut.

She watches the interaction between Bella and the man named "Edward" with underlying anger. 'Wow. Not what I expected. A vampire, Bella?' She thought, shaking her head at the predicament Bella got herself in.

A female vampire with red eyes caught Jay's attention. "Aro has sent me to see what is taking so long," she told them, looking at the two vampires also with red eyes, glancing at Bella and Edward from time to time before turning around and walking away.

The group followed the girl down the hall, making Jay follow right behind. Jay was barely able to squeeze in the elevator because she tried not to touch anyone. She was the first to get out before any of the vampires could. She then stays in the back as the group entered the room where three vampires sat on thrones.

"Sister sent to bring back one, and you come back with two. Two and a half. Such a clever girl," a male vampire said, catching Jay's attention. She could not deny his attractiveness, but his diet was not appealing to her.

" What a happy surprise. Bella is alive after all."Aro said, walking closer to the group, which made Jay uneasy because she heard stories of the terrible things he has done. She could not hear the conversation as well because she was standing behind a pillar.

She wanted to move closer but knew there would be danger in doing so. She forgot she had her godson, Teddy in strapped to her chest in a baby carrier.

"Stop!" Was what snapped Jay out of her thoughts, thinking of a plan, but could not fully plan everything out. ' I feel like Harry, Hermione, and Ron going on a crock shit plan.'

Alec was holding Bella back from helping Edward, who was in pain. Jay placed her wand to her throat to project her voice, so the vampires could not tell where she is.

" Stop this absurdity. Volturi is under the strict supervision of the M.o.M," Jay commanded, making the vampires hiss, trying to locate the sound.

Bella felt like she knew the voice, but could not pinpoint where. She felt grateful that Jane stopped hurting Edward. Rushing towards him, she asks him numerous questions.

Jay walked out from where she was, knowing the magic would be wearing off soon. She petrified the two big vampires, knowing they would be a challenge.

Surprise filled the eyes as they stared at the mysterious girl. " How did she get in?" Caius asked, sternly not liking the new development.

" Jay?" Bella asked in confusion, not knowing what is going on.

Aro stared in interest, wondering what she will do. "This is a surprise. My dear, how long have you been here? Who is that with you?"

Jay rolled her eyes, making sure she was in front of Bella and Edward. She had her wand in her sleeve, ready to use it when needed. " Aro, I understand you have rules. However, you can not touch the three of them. Bella is my cousin, and there is a rule about harming a family member. I will have to inform the Ministry about what you have been up too." She stared at Aro, not looking nervous at all.

She doesn't notice Marcus getting up and giving his hand to Aro. Aro's eyes widen in delight as he laughs as if a child. "Well, isn't this a predicament."

Jay's eyes narrow, not liking the uncertainty of the situation has become, knowing she is getting impatient. Bella stood up, wobbly, going to stand behind her cousin. "What are you doing here? They are vampires, Jay."

" I know that, Bella. I was here on vacation but saw you in trouble. You had to get involved with these creatures, " she mumbled, not minding the hisses she got. Jay kept getting drawn to Alec but didn't know why.

"Now, can your idiot get up, and fight or is he useless?" She asked, making sure the big vampires were still motionless.

" This has been amusing, but do not forget where you are," Caius drawled out, not like that they were ignored.

" You should not forget you are not in charge. We let you run around and play pretend as long as you do not interfere. We check on you from time to time to make sure you are not abusing your power. I will not let you punish them because of a mistake. You may have heard of me? I am Jay Ackerman. I helped end the Second Wizarding War with my friends. "

The three vampires locked shock, knowing who she is, but she was so young. Jay had enough and wanted to leave. She sent a hex to one of the vampires, Felix, she thinks. She then hits one in the chest with a Stupefy, Demetri. She turns to the twins, tilting her head when she sees Alec holding his sister back.

"Sorry, " she mumbles to Alec before she cast a spell, "Petrificus Tottaius," hitting the twins as they both drop to the floor. She turns to the three leaders, glaring at them harshly.

"The Ministry will be in contact with you. You have been lashing out long enough," she told them, glancing at Bella and vegetarian vampires. "It's time to leave," she said, walking towards the door. Aro vamp speed in front of her, getting ready to grab her; however, faster than him she raised her wand, "duro." He immediately turns to stone to the horror of the other vampires. "He will turn back soon," she assured them before leaving, not looking back.

#alec x oc #alec volturi imagine #alec volturi #jasper hale #jasper x oc #bella swan #harry potter #draco malfoy #edward cullen #volturi #aro volturi #cauis volturi #jane volturi

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xx-thedarklord-xx · 6 years ago

Text

Thine Enemy is Sweet (Part 5)

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four

“Run that by me again,” Harry said as he laid on Malfoy’s floor; the ceiling had been bewitched to look like constellations and he was mesmerized. “You’re saying Ron can just walk in? No invite? No date? Nothing?”

“Longbottom too,” Malfoy said distractedly as the sound of rustling parchment could be heard. Harry wasn’t sure what it was, but he’d been invested in them for an hour.

“That’s bullshit.”

“That’s a pureblood for you.”

“Sounds unfair.”

“Sounds like you’re jealous.”

Harry scoffed. Talking to Malfoy was always a headache.

“How do we get Seamus in?”

When Malfoy didn’t answer, Harry tilted his head back the best he could. His view was upside down, but he could tell that Malfoy was still looking over the paperwork.

“What are you doing?”

“None of your business.”

“If you frown like that anymore, you’ll get wrinkles.”

Malfoy’s brows furrowed as he peered over the parchment. “I’m not frowning.”

“You were.”

“I think you’re lying.”

“Ah,” Harry said slowly and sagely. “But you aren’t sure.”

“Why must you always annoy me?”

“I thought that was your role.”

“Potter.”

“Malfoy.”

“Do me a favour and kindly shut the fuck up.”

Harry huffed before he looked back up to the ceiling. “Why did you tell me to come over if you were just going to be ignoring me?”

“Is baby jealous?”

“Don’t call me that,” shuddered Harry.

“If you must know,” Malfoy’s tone suggested Harry didn’t. “I’m looking over the planning party’s orders.”

Harry sat up cross-legged and narrowed his eyes. “Planning party?”

“You thought Nott was going to plan his own engagement party?” Malfoy snorted. “Nott of all people.”

“How did you get the orders?”

A slow satisfied smirk crossed Malfoy’s face and it was creepy.

“I have my ways.”

“Did you know that you’re kind of scary?”

The smirk grew wider and Harry shook his head in response. Malfoy was a lost cause.

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

Malfoy ignored him as he moved to the fireplace. The address wasn’t recognized but Harry was curious enough to move closer.

Before he got close enough to see, Malfoy shoved him out of the way—hard.

“Idiot,” Malfoy hissed. “You can’t be seen.”

Harry rubbed his elbow where he had slammed it against the wall. He was going to kill Malfoy.

“Welcome to Vintage by Design,” A bored tone drawled, and he could see Malfoy’s already rigid posture stiffen further. “You’ve reached our Floo service. My name is Bramble, how may I be of help to you?”

“Bramble, is it?” Malfoy sneered, and Harry felt for Bramble, he did. “My name is Draco Malfoy and I’ve got a problem.”

A crash and audible scrambling could be heard, and he had to bite his cheek to stop from laughing.

“Ah, Mister Malfoy,” Bramble stumbled over his words. “A problem? I’d be happy to help.”

Malfoy smiled but it was condescending and his sympathies for Bramble went up.

“I’m sure you are.” The disgusted tone was reminiscent of their Hogwarts years and Harry didn’t miss it.

“I was tasked with speaking to your company,” the last word was said with such palpable distaste that Harry grimaced. “About the entertainment for the Nott & Greengrass party. I’m not sure why it’s all wrong.”

“I—you Mister Malfoy?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“The Nott & Greengrass party?”

“Are you stupid?”

“I—It’s just that our coordinator for the entertainment was D—”

“Me. Look at the paperwork one more time. It says D.M. That’s me.”

“One of my co-workers said something about McMillan—”

“Did they now? You thought McMillan of all families was going to show up?”

“I did think the likelihood was slim,” Bramble muttered, and Harry could hear the confusion. “The last generation was more progressive.”

Harry rolled his eyes. Clearly, Vintage by Design was for higher class wizards.

“You said there was a problem, sir?”

“The person I booked for entertainment is not who is on the list.”

Rustling could be heard over the crackle of the fire, and the urge to look was strong, but the glare Malfoy sent him was stronger.

“It looks like the Weird Sisters Reunion show was booked for the party.”

What? The Weird Sisters were having a reunion? He hadn’t ever realized they broke up. And they would do it for Nott? Harry had always known there was a reason he didn’t like them.

“Yeah, that’s the problem. You see, they were my backup plan not the original.”

“I’m sure we can cancel; Nott will have to pay the cancellation fee though. The Weird Sisters are not cheap.”

The pleased smirk on Malfoy’s face caused Harry to snort softly into his hand.

“What should I put down for the entertainment, Mister Malfoy?”

“I have been lucky enough to get a Quidditch star to agree to attend and he’s got something planned.”

“What?” Harry wheezed. He slapped his knee when Malfoy glared at him. He couldn’t help it. Seamus a Quidditch star?

“Oh! Not as grand as the Weird Sisters but I have heard that Miss Greengrass is a Quidditch fan. She’ll appreciate that. May I ask who it is?”

Harry couldn’t help the loud half-choke, half-wheeze that left him. The sound was croaked, and he worried his lungs would fail him.

“Is everything okay over there?”

That had Harry laughing harder and he couldn’t help but stomp his feet. The laughter wouldn’t stop, not even when Malfoy shot a stinging hex at him.

“Yes, I think my cat is dying, that’s all.”

“We can continue this another time.”

“No, continue, I never liked the bloody thing anyway.”

“Oh, um,” Bramble hesitated, and Harry snorted. “Who did you say the Quidditch star was?”

“I didn’t,” Malfoy drawled. “The team is the Tornadoes if that helps.”

“Alright. I’ll go ahead and cancel the Weird Sisters and set aside an invite for the Tornadoes player.”

The laughter left Harry as he sat up straight. Wait. That was it? Malfoy just… just did it? That easily?”

“Should there be any further questions, I would like to know,” Malfoy said, tone hard and eyes narrowed. “I was not pleased when I saw the orders.”

“I—I’m terribly sorry to hear that.” Bramble sounded scared and Harry kind of wished he had that effect on people.

“How sorry?”

He couldn’t help but be impressed when Bramble rushed to offer discounts should Malfoy need a party planner in the future.

It wasn’t until Malfoy closed the floo on Bramble who was still offering apologies that Harry was able to relax.

“Forget kind of scary. You are full-blown scary.”

“You,” Malfoy growled. “You almost blew it.”

“Well excuse me, a little warning and I would have laughed before the floo. You can’t just surprise me like that.”

“That’s not an explanation,” Malfoy argued. “That’s an excuse.”

“A good one.”

“I disagree.”

“Who cares what you think.”

“Potter.”

“Malfoy,” Harry mocked with a slight sneer.

“I cannot wait until this is done with, so I never have to see you again.”

“Please,” Harry scoffed. “You’ll miss me.”

Malfoy opened his mouth only to close it and shake his head. A small victory.

“What exactly do you expect Seamus to do for entertainment?” Harry asked with a small chuckle. “He’s a reserve player, never played an official match. No one’s even going to know who he is.”

“I’m sure he’ll come up with something.”

“What? You are going to let him come up with a plan?”

“Why not?” Malfoy absentmindedly asked as he began to look over the paperwork again.

“That’s a horrible idea. He’s going to make a mess.”

“And?”

“And he’ll probably try and steal someone’s jewellery or a damn plant if they have a greenhouse.”

“I’m not seeing the problem.”

Harry threw his hands in the air. “What do you mean you don’t see a problem? He’s going to draw so much attention to—ohh.”

“Knew you’d catch on eventually.”

Harry didn’t appreciate the snark, he really didn’t.

“You want him to be the giant mess that he is.”

“Exactly.”

“That company is going to lose so much business.”

Malfoy arched a brow, not bothering to look up. “Do you care?”

“Not really.” Part of him felt like he should care, but there was nothing.

“Now that Seamus is taken care of,” Harry sat down next to Malfoy, ignoring the unfriendly glare. “What about Dean?”

“I said I had a plan, didn’t I?”

“No shit,” Harry scrunched his face up. “I meant, what is it?”

“Why don’t you figure it out for yourself?’’

“Huh—”

All the papers Malfoy had been obsessed with were dumped into his lap and he had to scramble to catch them all before any fell.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Malfoy placed his hands behind his head and stretched his feet out until a footrest appeared out of nowhere. “Go on, pull your own weight here.”

“I’d like to think I have been.”

Malfoy snorted harder than was attractive. “You’re full of shit.”

“I got my friends involved, didn’t I?”

“No,” Malfoy narrowed his eyes. “I did that.”

“It still counts.” He refused to admit Malfoy was right. Instead, he picked up the first piece of parchment. It was a list of guests that could show up, no guaranteed attendees.

“That one is useless.”

“Is it?”

Harry frowned down at the list before he peered up into Malfoy’s too smug face.

“You’re trying to confuse me.”

“Am I?”

“Stop it!” Harry hissed when Malfoy’s brows arched. “Just sit there quietly, not saying a word. I know that’ll be hard for you. You like the attention and—”

“Potter, you’re the only one talking. Quit rambling.”

Harry harrumphed louder than necessary as he moved onto the next one. It was a list of food, equipment, decorations and donations. Nothing caught his attention and he was going to skip that one too until he caught sight of a small footnote.

Painting on loan, preferably from the National Artistry Wizard Museum or the National Wizard History Museum, will check options.

“Wait,” Harry reread the whole page and triple checked the footnotes. “Nott wants a fancy schmancy painting behind him while they eat?”

“Does that surprise you?”

No. It didn’t. Nott liked to draw attention to himself, something Harry never liked, it made him uneasy.

“Has Vintage by Design already chosen the place?”

Malfoy shook his head as he picked at his robes. “They haven’t picked a painting either.”

It was obvious what Malfoy was insinuating, but he wasn’t entirely sure Dean would go for it.

“You want Dean to ask the museum if his painting can be on loan?”

“Oh no,” Malfoy leaned forward into Harry’s personal space. “I want you to ask the museum.”

“Why me?”

“Use your brain Potter, I know it must be hard, nothing up there, but do try.”

“Eat my arse, Malfoy,” snarled Harry.

Malfoy’s eyes twinkled as his lips twitched and Harry wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“You want me to?” Malfoy’s nose scrunched up in amusement, and Harry was not amused. “Can’t say I have a lot of practice with that. Usually been on the receiving end, but they say you only live once.”

“Malfoy,” Harry tried to scoot away but Malfoy followed him until Harry’s back pressed against the arm of the sofa.

“Hm, yes, Potter?”

“What are you doing?” The question came out breathy and he placed his hands on Malfoy’s stomach to act as a buffer between them.

“Waiting for you to answer my question.” His face was so close to Harry’s that he could smell Malfoy’s cologne.

“I don’t need you to eat me out.”

Malfoy laughed, actually laughed, and he couldn’t process it fully before, “Not the question I meant, but alright.”

It took embarrassingly long for Harry to realize he meant the museum.

“Well, if Dean asked, they might wonder why, right?”

“Mhm,” Malfoy prompted as he moved Harry’s hands. “Keep going.”

“I can’t think of why you’d want me to ask unless it was my name that would make them.”

“Right.” Malfoy’s hands were wrapped around his wrist and it was distracting. What was he doing?

“I don’t know how a painting on loan would work,” the last word came out as a choke as Malfoy placed a hand on his chest. “I’m sure they would want someone to go with the painting.”

When Malfoy said nothing, Harry tried to figure out if that was by design or if he was planning something.

“I could ask to talk to the creator and then Dean could be the one to come with.”

“Good job, Potter,” Malfoy whispered a breath away, noses touching.

Oh. That wasn’t fair. Praise should not be given so close to his lips.

“What are you doing, Malfoy?”

“Playing a very dangerous game.”

“For you or for me?” Harry pushed against Malfoy’s head until their foreheads were pressed together.

“I’m always in it for myself, didn’t you know?” It was self-deprecating and Harry could tell it was an insult Malfoy had been told.

“Then make it dangerous for you.”

Malfoy’s eyes searched his, no smirk on his face, no twitch of lips, just open curiosity.

“You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“No,” Harry agreed. “I don’t. I don’t even know if I want it.”

The sound of the floo could be heard but they didn’t move.

“Then perhaps, another time,” Malfoy whispered just as footsteps and voices could be heard.

“That’s what I’m trying to say,” Ron’s complaint was heard before he was seen. “She was suspicious of me!”

“It is Hermione after all,” Dean pointed out. “She’s bound to know you’re being suspicious.”

“I still think it’s a bad idea.”

“We know, Neville. You’ve said it enough.”

The sound of the floo went off again and Harry was still staring into Malfoy’s eyes. Had they always had specks of blue in them?

“How many times do I have to say not to leave me behind?” Seamus huffed. “Merlin none of you care about me.”

“And you two!” Seamus yelled, making Harry jump and jostle Malfoy slightly. “Quit snogging every time we come by.”

There was no use pointing out that they hadn’t, but it was a dangerous game as Malfoy put it.

“Make me,” Malfoy said and with the way his eyes were still on Harry’s face, he couldn’t tell who Malfoy was talking to.

“Malfoy,” Harry started but couldn’t think of what to say after that. There was something unfinished, only he couldn’t understand what it was.

The curiosity vanished and Malfoy’s face returned to no emotions and cold eyes as he got up and moved away. Harry wasn’t as comforted by it as he thought he would have been.

“So,” Ron plopped down on top of Harry’s legs and put his head on his chest. “What did we interrupt?”

“Nothing.” The truth came out before he thought better of it. “Nothing at all.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Harry ran his fingers through Ron’s hair and sighed. He wasn’t sure he believed himself either. The whole fake boyfriend was a lot more trouble than it was worth.

“What do you mean I’m the entertainment?!” Seamus cried, and for the second time that day, Harry cracked up.

-TBC-

---

Alright, it’s probably not as funny as I think it is lmaoo but I did crack up a few times while writing it. Gigi can attest to that. Speaking of Gigi, I’d like to thank @snortinglaughter for being my wonderfully beautiful beta who I adore

I’ll tag those who asked soon. Thank you! Hope you enjoyed it

#Drarry #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #Fake Dating #Enemies Fake Dating #Flirting?#Maybe #Seamus Finnigan #Dean Thomas #Neville Longbottom #Ron Weasley #banter

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