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librarianandguardian · 4 years ago

Text

Just a feeling- Saul Silva x Female!Reader

Pairing : Saul Silva x Female!Reader

Word Count : ~2300

Warnings : Fluff, brief mention of drug use and burns

Music : Un homme - Jérémy Frerot

Author’s note : Getting pretty stressed because of a huge project at school, so I wrote this to blow off some steam ! I also wanted to say that I do not agree with the way some characters are written and treated in this show. I hope I did not perpetuate these errors, and that I got Silva’s personality a bit right at least. Feedback is appreciated, may it be on the story telling or even the grammar. English isn’t my first language. Flahs-backs in italics. Enjoy ! :D

GIF ‘s not mine, and I can’t find the creator.

French First World songs resonate in the Great Hall, she is dancing. Wild and free. Her loosened hairs fly through the wind. She has traded her Specialist armour for a long flowing dress. Her feet are hammering the ground in rhythm. The crowd carries her all over the dancefloor; she twirls and claps her hands following the music.

From an ignored fairy bloodline, her parents considered her a Specialist Legacy. When her mind fairies powers woke up, everything went wrong ; she was always an overwhelmed child. No one could help her everytime she lost control. Nothing but medication: earrings to contain, and pills to attenuate. It wasn't bad. She lived like that her entire life.

Silva is sitting on a plastic chair, leaning on the table by his side, his gaze lingering. She is an exceptional fighter; dance must be a piece of cake and fun judging from her large smile. To be fair, he barely remembered her from their time at Alfea. Farah told him she was three years younger than him and seemed to have a few memories.

« (Y/N) travelled a lot to the First World prior to college. Her parents were emissaries and brought back souvenirs. Rumours said that her room resembled a cave of wonders.

-Ever went there ?»

His friend chuckled.

« Once. It was full of trinkets, books, movies, postal cards too. Ben caught interest in it, especially the giant botanic encyclopaedia throning on her bookshelf. We both agreed after a while that she might be the ray of sunshine of her Specialist promotion. But I guess she was discreet, if you've never heard of her.»

It took some memory searching, but he indeed remembered one thing. A conversation between a bunch of 1st years talking about a secret party displaying famous First World movies. A few hours later, on the training field, (Y/N) battled fiercely. It caught the attention of many students, who gathered around the platform. Curiosity taking the best of him, he had followed the crowd.

« What's that First World song that I love to describe you with ?

-By the light Clairo, is it really necessary ? »

Her opponent mocked her. She rolled her eyes, wielding her sword before choosing her fight stance.

« You son of... Maneater from Nelly Furtado. Now let's fight please.

-Alright doll, eat me up. »

(Y/N) huffed in annoyance. Clairo was a good fighter, but a little bit too flirty. He launched himself at her. The young woman stayed incredibly calm. Dodging to the right, she left him to stumble before hitting his back with the wooden weapon. He fell to the ground with a grunt. A shy smile spread on her features.

Now that he thinks about it, her earring had intrigued him : an ear chain hanging from the top of the cartilage of her ear to her lobe. Each end was composed of a lavendish round lilac crystal. When she lost control recently, those crystals lit up with a blinding light and burned her skin.

« I change the earring every five year. Every year If any several big crises occurred.

-What about your burns ? How did they clean them up ? »

Her left hand ghosted over her intact lobe, while Harvey healed the bruised flesh. Her eyes stared at the floor of the greenhouse. Saul was holding her other hand.

« They... I stuffed myself with pills. Sometimes enough to sleep through an entire day. Within the Solarian force, it was the only way for them to treat me. None of their mind fairies could calm me down. I don't think you realize how much this, she lifted her intertwined hand, helps.»

The soldier chuckles at the memory. His eyes examined his fingers, remembering how she locked hers, as she found an anchor in his mind.

« My best guess ? Your training forged your head to have a certain mindset in crisis.

-Loads of Solarian troupers could have given you that.

-Yeah. I can't really explain it, she laughed shyly, maybe because you're a teacher, that two of your long time friends are fairies or just because you're good with people.»

Their gazes crossed. The air thickened. Truth to be told, (Y/N) was so lost upon why he managed to calm her down. Farah tried to guide her, but even then, nothing positive came out. Her youth as a student at Alfea only consisted in shared side glances with him in hallways. She sure as hell found the man attractive, but she had other stuff to think about.

A loud giggle snaps him back to reality. (Y/N) falls on his laps while trying to take off her high heels. Her eyes are opened wide and a little glassy. She's definitely drunk.

« Oh by the light, I'm sorry Silva. Aimed at the table ! »

The atmosphere becomes lighter. He catches her when she nearly trips off by trying to get up, one of his arms snaking around to help. Steadying herself on his laps, she catches her breath slowly, though some giggles erupt as she looks around.

« How can you still dance, uh ?»

With a guilty smile, she leans slightly against the table.

« Alcohol ! It's the only thing keeping me up, baby !»

Instant regret shoots through her veins. Some red creeps up on her cheeks, as her hands cover her mouth. The soldier chuckles, enamoured by her adorableness. One thing that strucked him when they met was her lightness. Out of all the solarian troupers out there, or even all the specialists he ever crossed paths with, she was one of the few who stayed so bright and playful. Subconsciously, his fingers dig slightly in her hips.

« It's alright, (Y/L/N).»

She giggles a bit, but thanks him. Farah watches from a far, joined by Ben. (Y/N)(Y/L/N) has been teaching at Alfea for a year now. The entire school seemed to have transformed into a much more joyous place : students got along better, the shyest opened a tad and the roughest softened. Ben's daughter Terra found a supporter of her personal projects and a confidant. Ben himself benefited from her return. Mostly in books and knowledge but that meant already so much to him. Farah gained a daughter ; (Y/N)'s powers were a mess for her advanced age, helping felt natural. But what she loved the most was how confused Saul got with the new Specialist. Their bond strengthened with time, however the first few days rocked the Headmaster all over the place.

«(Y/L/N), what did you do to our office ? Did you... Are these books classified by alphabetic order and colour ?! »

His colleague shrugged, trying to see if he was mad or just surprised. It happened a few days after her arrival. Their shared office went under few renovations.

« (Y/L/N), why dancing classes ? »

She shot up, put her hands on his desk and took twenty minutes to explain how it would make their movements more flexible, strengthen teamwork and be a tool for future mission on the job. Astonished could not describe Silva's feeling.

An admirable change that proved beneficial to the students. These two grew very fond of each other. A lot more than they thought. Words in the hallways started to spread about their growing fondness.

« Okay, I got a question for you, soldier boy.»

Saul tilted his head to the side.

« Are you having fun ?

-Of course I am.»

(Y/N) looks disappointed. Turning around, she pours some water in her cup and chugs it down.

« Really ? 'Cause the only thing I've seen you do is sit in a corner all night. »

He lowers his head, searching for the right words. How does he say that he just loves watching her run around the dancefloor ? How she bounds with students but also keeps their respect ? The fact that she's so organised that she could plan a First World themed party and keep her teacher skills to their best ? The shortest way for that would be admitting his feelings. He zones out long enough for her to talk again.

« It's okay. »

His eyes lock with hers. How did she sober up so quickly ?

« I know you have a reputation as a serious and frowny teacher to keep. And this is a graduation party, so. »

Never mind, she did not. The woman gets up, only to kneel under the tablecloth. He panics briefly.

« (Y/N), what on Earth are you doing ?»

She mumbles before appearing back outside. Her hands are holding a package. Another bright smile shines on her face. Silva knows what's coming, and he has mixed feelings about it; between fear, excitement and confusion.

« Happy Birthday Saul. »

His heart nearly stops. Few people know about his birthday, she is now a part of them. He frankly does not mind, even wished for it for a while now. His hands gently take the package to open it. Before his eyes lies a hard covered sketchbook and a wooden box full of high-quality pencils. The cover has a crow flying in a pearly sky with a red sun. The box is made of ebony and his name carved in silver. She knows an another of his secret. He tears up. The woman worries when he starts to sniffle. Much to her surprise, the soldier puts the gifts on the table before hugging her with all his might. Thank God the students are dancing or already out of the hall to smoke. (Y/N) answers his embrace, reassured.

« Thank you so much dear. »

It's her turn to have glossy eyes. She buries her face in his shoulder. This man is constantly under pressure and she has always wondered what he does during his free time : Does he train more ? He probably reads, right ? The answer came on a regular afternoon.

Silva knocked on her quarters' door. He heard shuffling before (Y/N) opened. She was wearing a bathrobe and a towel around her hair.

« Hi Saul ! Sorry hum. I woke up late and did not expect you so soon so, hum. »

The woman looked around, making her towel fall. Picking it up, she invited him in. He indulged, though a bit surprised.

« I'll be back in a jiffy, you know, putting some clothes on and all. Okay.»

She disappeared in her bathroom, leaving him to explore her room. Many watercolour paintings covered the walls, some abstract and others from the Realms of the Otherworld. However, a few landscapes felt unknown to him. On her desk lied sketches with a horde of different pencils. He discovered portraits of Farah, Ben, Terra, Sky, Riven and finally him. The lines were thin, some shadows sharp for the warriors and smoother for the fairies. A hint of jealousy took over him, quickly brushed away by shyness. The fact that she took the time to draw him was flattering. His fingers grazed over the pencils, wondering if he had time to prepare a little surprise. He puts down the file he came to discuss. A few minutes later, (Y/N) came out, dressed but her hair still wet on the edges. Silva was leaning against her desk, file in hand, a small smile on his features. She mirrored it before asking about the important matter at hand. Twenty minutes later, he left. Her eye caught a change in her drawing material : the portrait of Farah and Ben switched positions. She shuffled them, making sure everything was here, only to find an unknown piece. A cute fox was smiling, a little bubble under him stating :

« Nice Work (Y/L/N). Nice pencils too. Wish I had your talent.»

That last sentence made her wonder if he indeed had an artistic side. Needless to say that his quarters gave her answer. Same reason as his when he came, she knocked on his door one night. Though he did not fully invite her in, her eyes caught glimpses of nice sketches lying on a table, some rudimental equipment next to it.

They stay like this for a few seconds. The headmistress and Professor Harvey look at each other. No words, no need. Terra is chatting with a second year in a corner, bur her eyes catch them. She smiles, looking away shyly, but happy Sky sees the scene too, thanks to Riven who taps on his shoulder. They can't help the smile growing on their faces. Sky's father figure finding support is definitely going to be one of the highlights of their first year. (Y/N) and Saul part. One of her hands pats his arm.

« Wanna dance ? »

He closes his eyes, sighing. There is no lack of desire but the fear of what the students will say.

« I wish but... I don't know.

-I get it. But one day, you will ! That's a promise. »

With one last smile, she strolls back to the dancefloor, leaving him sheepish. He takes the sketchbook and a pencil. He might not dance tonight, but he'll make up to it.

#fate the winx saga #saul silva #saul silva x reader #sky of eraklyon #fate riven #farah dowling #ben harvey #saul silva imagine

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professorsnape394 · 4 years ago

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The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Seventeen: Heart or Head?

A/N: This is the seventeenth part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-17 can also be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below or send me a message if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 1756

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

"Severus. Aria. May I speak with you both?" Dumbledore requested the next morning after breakfast.

The two professors exchanged an awkward glance, rising from either ends of the headmaster, unsure of the old wizard's intentions.

The hall bustled with noise, students and teachers alike eager to escape the great hall, enjoying their last day of freedom before yet another week begun.

The trio remained behind, exchanging not a word nor glance, until Dumbledore spoke once more.

"I assume you know what this is about." Albus questioned, his eyes travelling between the pair suspiciously.

Unable to force their eyes to meet the headmaster's, both Severus and Aria's minds began to race. Each of them suspecting that the other had divulged unto him the events of last night.

"I'm afraid not, Headmaster. Care to enlighten us?" Severus finally found the courage to say.

"As I am sure you were both made aware this morning at breakfast, Professor Karkaroff has found himself in a rather unfortunate state." Dumbledore explained, his eyes still surveying their faces through the top of his glasses.

Aria let out a huge sigh of relief, glad that Snape had not humiliated her further. Severus too was more than thankful his employer remained unaware that he had both seduced and rejected his beloved granddaughter in the early hours of the morning.

"What does that have to do with us, Grandfather?" Aria asked innocently, knowing fine well who was responsible for the wound.

"Nothing, as for as I'm aware." Dumbledore hummed. "There is no concrete evidence of what happened to Igor has anything to do with the two of you. However, given that the two of you, along with Professor Karkaroff were significantly late to breakfast, and given the state in which the two of you look, I have my suspicions."

"And what reason would either Miss Dumbledore or myself have for harming the man in question?" Severus retorted. "And surely you must be aware that I, as I always am on October 31st, was in my office until the small hours of this morning. I cannot, however, speak for your granddaughter's whereabouts, and why she looks so uncharacteristically dishevelled this morning."

The potions master glared at his apprentice out the side of his eye. It was the first he had dared to look at her all morning. Her face was bare; clearly she had made no effort to apply a face of makeup this morning, but a slight trace of eyeliner and mascara was still visible around her tired puffy eyes. She had hastily scraped her hair back into a tight ponytail, a half-hearted attempt to salvage her borderline greasy hair. Admittedly it was the worst he had saw her look since their meeting, but even then he could still appreciate her true beauty. Once again Severus Snape found himself getting lost in the woman's features, enchanted by her mere presence.

"The party." She blurted uncontrollably, upon noticing her mentor staring. "The Halloween party, it went on very late. I apologise, I should have been more responsible." She turned to the headmaster.

"Very well. I believe the two of you have very solid alibis, therefore I have no reason to suspect you any longer. As of now Igor is yet to come forward about the incident, so until he does, that is if he does, the two of you are... what's the phrase? 'Off the hook'." Albus said, raising an eyebrow, throwing his hands in the air.

Sensing that the pair were very eager to leave, Dumbledore took his chance to stop them once more.

"I would, however, like to make it known that Igor Karkaroff, along with the rest of Durmstrang school are here as our guests and should be treated with the utmost respect by Hogwarts students and Professors alike. However first and foremost, Aria, you are my granddaughter. And if a problem had to occur, that deserves appropriate repercussions, I should hope that any of my professors would be able to confide in me. And the issue would be dealt with by me, and me only. That being said; is there anything you would like to tell me, my dear granddaughter?"

She remained silent. Her eyes once again falling to the floor.

"And you Severus? You have never lied to me before. Is there anything you have to say on the matter?"

Snape paused for a moment in deliberation, remembering the promise he had once made to obey his employer entirely.

"Like I said. I was in my office all night." He lied, never once looking away, breaking his gaze.

The headmaster looked between the pair, disappointed and frustrated.

"You may go." He sighed.

Taking off in the blink of an eye Professor Snape disappeared from the great hall, his assistant following not far behind.

"Severus, wait." The young professor called out, trying to rush her way past the small clusters of students that filled the halls.

The potions master slowly came to a halt, clearly unsure whether he wanted to hear what she inevitably had to say.

"I want to talk about last night." She confessed, lowering her voice as she caught up with the potions master.

In three large strides Severus Snape turned to the woman, grabbing onto her forearm and walking her backwards into the hard castle wall. It was obvious he was paranoid of anyone, student or staff, overhearing what she was about to say regarding the events of the previous night.

Taken aback by his sudden movements Aria took a moment to catch her breath. Meanwhile Snape had gathered his thoughts on the matter.

"I am unsure of what you are referring to Miss Dumbledore, but as far as the staff are aware we never crossed paths last night, and I would like to keep it that way. Forget about whatever you want to say, anything that may or may not have happened is now considered null and void. Am I making myself perfectly clear?"

Almost instantly Aria found herself becoming defensive in the face of the Professor's aggression. She had come to him with heartfelt intentions, but she'd be damned if she allowed another man to walk all over her again. She was quickly tiring of Severus' yo-yoing insight on their friendship.

"Do not tell me what I can and cannot say, Professor." Aria said, ripping her arm from her colleague's grasp. "However much you'd like to erase the of memory of the two of us, at this moment in time it remains a reality, and I have something to say on the matter. I will not let you silence me for nothing but your own benefit."

"Very well." Snape huffed, slightly impressed that she had stood up to him. "Say what you have to say, if you must, but be quick about it, I would like to enjoy the last day of the weekend without you pestering me for once."

"I wanted to apologise." The witch admitted, raising her head to lock eyes with her mentor.

Snape cocked an eyebrow curiously, silently permitting her to go on.

"I want to apologise for... for try to take things a bit too far last night. I shouldn't have expected you to... well, you know." She shrugged, eyes darting below Snape's belt.

"There is no need for an apology, Miss Dumbledore. After all, it was I who initiated the whole... situation. Like I said, I would prefer if it could be forgotten about to entirely."

"But Severus I- "

Snape held up a palm, signalling for her to stop.

"It was a mistake." He insisted. "You were drunk, Aria, and I took advantage, it was wrong of me. Besides, you're in a relationship, and I would very much appreciate if I were to remain entirely uninvolved in any of your possible drama."

Aria's multiple attempts at interrupting went unsuccessful. Snape was adamant that he wanted to forget the whole thing, therefore it was clear to Aria any attempt at convincing him otherwise would be futile. Sensing the finality in his tone Miss Dumbledore took a step away from him, letting him go.

"Just one last thing." She blurted, causing Severus to pause halfway down the corridor. "We broke up. Just, if that means anything to you."

Aria waited hopefully for him to turn back to face her, but he never did. It was clear he had heard her but had chose not to acknowledge her words as he disappeared into the labyrinth that is Hogwarts.

Once again Severus Snape found himself consumed in thoughts of his assistant. Ever since his lips touched hers he couldn't get his mind off of her. With no idea what had come over him to make a move, he was sure she would reject him. But when he found that no only had she returned his kiss, but was willing to go further, panic set in.

He wanted nothing more than to let her do it. To just let her hands wander freely over his naked body, allowing him to do the same to her. He could have had her right there in his office if he wanted, but he was scared. Scared that he was right about what he said all those weeks ago in the Three Broomsticks, or scared that she would change her mind all together, but mostly he was scared that after it all, if she did actually go through with it that is, she still had a boyfriend and he would inevitably be tossed aside, forgotten and rejected all at once.

So, he convinced her, and himself, that it had all been one drunken mistake, and that it meant nothing to him. He refused to let her think for one second that he feelings of any kind for her. He would not allow himself to be humiliated by her of all people.

It would all have gone just as he had planned if Aria hadn't said those few words. 'We broke up'. Why did she tell him that? What difference did it make to him? Was she trying to get in his head? Or was she trying to tell him exactly what he wanted to hear?

Deliberating over the meaning of her confession kept the potions master preoccupied all day. In his heart he wanted to believe that she felt just as he did. But his head told him no one would ever be able to love a beast like him.

Soon enough all of Snape's uncertainty was to be put to rest by a single knock at the door.

Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel

@lizlil

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peakywitch · 4 years ago

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Welcome to Small Heath - Michael Gray

THIS WILL BE A SERIES

words: 2.6k

warnings: none wtf just um throwing up ?? a little bullying and nothing more

masterlist

“Michael, Y/N…welcome to Small Heath.”

That was the beginning of the end.

When Henry was just a few weeks from turning 18, his real family came to visit him, letting him know he was awaited in a small town in Birmingham.

“Y/N? Are you in here?” a voice asked, calling her through the door.

“Yes, come in!” She allowed the voice to come inside the classroom.

“Hey, love.” She turned around, leaving the papers on the desk, and saw her boyfriend coming in.

“Hey, Henry.” She smiled, passing by his side and kissing him quickly. She was cleaning the classroom, getting it ready for the week ahead.

“So…my cousin came by today, he told me they are waiting for me, and that they’d like to meet me.” He said, watching her clean the classroom’s blackboard.

“Cousin?” she asked, confused. As long as she knew, Rosemary had no brothers, nor did his father “But you have none…what are you talking about?”

“No, I do. My um…My real mom, has like three…maybe four nephews? One came by, today. My mom wants to see me.” He said, he was still a little bit confused. She stopped walking around the room.

“Oh.” she felt a bittersweet flavour in her mouth, Henry was going to leave her. She kept on walking after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, playing it cool.

“So…” she cleared her throat, trying to sound as normal as possible “Are you going to go?”

“Yes, I believe I am.” He answered, doubtful.

She chuckled a little bit while reordering the books on the shelf that was beside the blackboard.

“What?” he asked, not understanding why she was laughing.

“Well, you don’t sound so secure if you ask me.”

“Do I need to be more secure about the fact that I want to leave this…bloody hell hole?” he exclaimed, making goosebumps go through her body. He realized he yelled at her and felt bad almost immediately “I’m sorry, I really am.” He reached out to her and hugged her, trying to apologize.

“It’s okay, you surely are stressed.” She hugged him back, letting him know she was there for him with a little whisper in his ear.

“I just… Don’t want to leave you. Here. In this no-future place.”

Both of them were standing in the middle of the room, he had his hand around her waist and she was caressing both of his arms.

“Well, I may not have a good future, but I’m trying to educate kids who may will and won’t have to fight a war, you know?” she smiled, and he looked up at the ceiling. Then, after a few seconds in silence, he realized. His eyes met hers, and she got a funny feeling.

“What?” she asked, with a smile. He didn’t say a word, he just kept on smiling. “Henry, love, what are you thinking?”

“Come with me.” He said, with the sweetest smile on his face.

“Henry…” she murmured, trying to understand what he was asking.

“I don’t want to meet them alone, please. I…” he laughed softly; the poor boy was as nervous as he could be “I don’t want to do this alone. Please? For me, baby.” He pleaded, trying to catch her eyes with his because she was trying to run from his gaze.

They both stood there in silence for a few seconds. With a deep inhale, she stared into his eyes, watching them beg.

“Only if you bake me your famous apple pie.”

He smiled; he was so happy. The boy took her face into his hands and kissed her repeatedly.

“Yes, yes, yes. Thank you, you are amazing.”

So, as promised, she went with him. They were both greeted by a loving family on a warm Sunday morning. They had bought a few things to have breakfast with and they took out a few drawings a gypsy did on a fair.

“So, that’s how your babies will look like, Y/N.” Arthur said, teasing them both. Henry got all red, and she started laughing nervously.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Arthur. He is still a boy!” laughed Polly.

“Yeah well, when I was his age I had already two kids, didn’t I?” laughed John, trying to make his aunt even more nervous.

“Oh, would you stop this nonsense! You are making both of them hate us, and we want to spend more time with ‘em!” said Polly.

“John, I think these kids have more things in their minds than just sex, unlike you did.” Said Tommy, lighting up a cigarette. “You are a teacher, aren’t you?” he said while staring blankly at his guest.

“Um…Yes, yes I am. I teach first and second grade.” She smiled, quite insecure.

“Well, our school here in Small Heath needs a teacher.” He said, smoking calmly.

Y/N looked at Henry, uncomfortable.

“Oh, well…um…there are a few teachers that would like to leave our town and…” she scratched the back of her neck.

“No, Y/N.” Said Polly. “We want Michael to stay here, with us. He agreed, but he wants you to keep on teaching.”

At first, it was a hard decision, Y/N was mad at Henry because he set her up. But there was nothing he couldn’t fix with a slice of freshly baked apple pie. So, after a warm slice of homemade cake, tea and an apology, they were both off to Birmingham.

A car was waiting for them at the front door in Henry’s house. They both said their goodbyes and after loading their suitcases, the trip started. And it was there, in the middle of the drive, where he said something that marked a before and after:

“I’d like it if you…umm…started calling me Michael, you know?” he asked, a little bit unsure of how it would be received by her.

“Oh…Yes, okay, no probl-”

“But” he interrupted “but you don’t have to do it if it makes you uncomfortable, you know?” he stated while caressing her hand.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine.” He stared into her eyes, having that feeling that nothing was actually fine. “Don’t look at me like that, everything IS fine…Michael” she lied, but the cute smile she had on her face was enough for him to actually believe that lie.

The drive was calm, the only bumpy road was in her mind, where she was leaving her hometown behind.

“You know,” said Michael, “I think you will be an amazing teacher in Small Heath.” He smiled.

“You really do?” she smiled back, and she told him how nervous she was.

“Oh, come on. You? Nervous? This will be amazing, love.” He said, taking her hand and leaving a sweet kiss on it “Believe me, it will be amazing, you will be the best teacher.” He smiled.

They both spent the rest of the calm trip imagining how many new things they would do and how many new people they would meet.

It all sounded lovely, for both of them.

A good life in a good place.

“What?” asked Michael to the chauffeur, interrupting his conversation with the girl next to him.

“We are here.” He said, leaving the car.

“Okay…” she suspired, with a smile.

“We are here.” He smiled, kissing her rapidly, so he could get out of the car.

He opened the door, got out, and helped her get out while holding her hand. The chauffeur gave both of them their suitcases and when they turned around, there they were: the Shelbys.

“Michael, Y/N…” started Tommy, after exhaling smoke from his cigarette “Welcome to Small Heath.”

They both smiled.

In the beginning, it was almost surreal how well it was going. They were living with Polly in a beautiful house a few minutes from Watery Lane, so he could go to the betting den and she could go to the school, where, of course, she got into with no trouble.

When the first month was almost over, things started to change.

Although the other teachers didn’t like the fact that Y/N started working because of the family influence she had, they had to admit she was a good teacher. Despite them recognizing it, she still was being ignored by them during lunch. And, even though Michael told her they were just nervous or something, she wasn’t feeling better about the fact that they were not even looking at her.

So, as always, she was eating alone in the classroom, just as when she was a little girl. That’s how she met Michael. She was alone, he saw her through the window and joined her. She never ate alone after that day.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” a woman asked, coming inside her classroom.

“Hi.” She smiled, cleaning her lips with a napkin.

“I’m Susan, she’s Gretchen and this is Esther.” The fifty-year-old woman presented herself and the other two.

Susan looked like a goose, had big lips, a long neck, and blonde hair. Gretchen had a strange noise and looked like the type of teacher who hits kids and well, Esther had a greyish hair and a sour face, she looked like a dried lemon.

“I’m…” she was about to introduce herself out of courtesy, but they interrupted her.

“Yeah, we know how you are. Mr. Shelby got you into here.” Said Esther, putting an even more sour face, looking down on her.

“Oh yeah, well, he spoke with the headmaster and…” then again, she was interrupted but this time by Susan.

“Talk?” she laughed “You are a little blind to be a teacher, aren’t you?”

“No, not blind.” Said Gretchen, continuing with the verbal attack “She might be a little stupid.”

“Pardon?” said Y/N almost choking on her food, not understanding what was going on, nor why were the three witches attacking her.

“Yes, Gretchen is right.” Laughed Esther.

“I don’t know who you are, but please stop attacking me, I’ve…”

Y/N hated confrontation, it always left a black hole in her stomach, and she ended up feeling like she would throw up.

“You little girl, are a fool if you think you got this work because of your experience.” Started Susan “The only experience it was talked about, was the threat Mr. Sallow got from Tommy gipsy Shelby.”

It shook her. Threats? The void in her stomach was only growing, starting to reach the being sick part. She rapidly checked the clock on the wall. In two minutes, the bell would ring.

“Okay, I’m sorry but I have to ask you ladies to leave. I don’t deserve this abuse and…” she started, but she knew. She knew if she kept talking, she would puke on Esther’s horrible and old pink blouse.

The three ladies stared blankly at her, waiting for her to continue.

“Come on, speak.” Gretchen hurried her, but she maintained silent.

The bell rang, and the three ladies left her alone after saying a few more things to her. When the last witch got out, she ran to the bin in the corner and threw up while her body was shaking, nerves and stress always got the worst of her.

“Ugh, fuck.” She muttered, closing her eyes and breathing deeply.

“Hi, everyone.” She smiled shyly entering the betting shop. The clients saluted her with a smile and Michael called her, letting her know he was in the back with his cousins and his mom.

She walked over to them and hugged her boyfriend, who was waiting for her with his arms open.

“Hi, beautiful.” He smiled and tried to kiss her, she just kissed his forehead and sat by his side, while hearing all the questions the Shelbys were asking about her day.

While Michael stood confused for his rejected kiss, she could only smile and comment that it was a lovely day. After her lie, they all got back to their horse discussion.

“Is…everything alright?” he asked with concern while staring at her.

“I…don't know.” She whispered, as he left his arm on her shoulder.

“We can talk about it if you want.” He said, softly enough for only her to hear. YN nodded and tried to focus on the race that was being discussed.

“So…I threw up today.” Y/N said while undoing the braid Esme had done while they were in the betting shop.

“You what?!” screamed Michael from the bathroom, while brushing his teeth. He got out of the bathroom, with his mouth full of toothpaste and a brush. “You did what?”

“A few teachers came up to me, and started…” Michael cut her off, after going back to the bathroom:

“I’m listening! Just cleaning my mouth!” he told her, while the water was running.

“They started nagging me!” she complained while taking her clothes off and putting on her pyjamas. “These three women, well, witches came into my classroom while I was eating.”

Michael came out of the bathroom with a clean mouth and a concerned face.

“What did they say to you?” he asked while starting to undo the buttons on his pressed white shirt.

“That I got into the school because Tommy threatened the headmaster teacher…and they started to attack me, calling me names and…”

The black void was appearing on her body once again, making her sick to her stomach. Michael could always sense when she was getting that weird feeling, so he instantly knew what to do.

“Oh, love, come here.” He said, forgetting about his half-buttoned shirt and only thinking about his girl. She hugged him tightly, trying to forget the uncomfortable day.

“So I got all nervous and I threw up when they left.” The poor girl was starting to cry. “I don’t want to go back, I seriously don’t.” she stated sadly.

“But…if you don’t teach, what would you do?” he asked, trying to get her to think through with more clarity.

“I will…umm…bake, yeah.”

“Bake?” he laughed slightly, making her laugh “Love, you don’t know how to cook. I always did the apple pie, you chatted.”

Y/N laughed and let him know he was right.

“Of course I am right, Y/N. And I could start driving you to school, and picking you up.” He suggested, “So the three old ladies know you have someone who will walk through fire for you.”

Y/N's heart grew bigger, he was the kindest man alive. That was something she always liked in him, he tried to make everything better, and would do everything in his power to make people happy.

“Drive me to school? Baby, we don’t have a car to make ‘em jealous.” She reminded him.

“Well…” he thought for a second “Oh! I know!” he smiled, placing both of his hands on his girl’s cheeks “I will walk with you, will kiss you goodbye and they will feel jealous because their old husbands don’t love them the way I love you.”

Y/N could only smile.

“Oh no, Esther is definitely a widow.” Laughed Y/N, making Michael smile “And! And Gretchen knows his husband cheats on her, while Susan never got married, lives with a fat cat and hates her neighbours.”

“How do you know all that?” he smiled, amazed by her beauty.

“I don’t. But they have a miserable life, there’s no other way to explain their bitterness.” She smiled, staring at his blue eyes “I am glad I have you by my side, so my bittersweet days can become delightful with your apple pie.”

“Why are you thinking about food?” Michael wondered.

“I’m not!” she replied with laughter.

“Yes, you are.”

“I always think about your pie, that’s a different story.”

“You love my pies.”

“Yes, yes I do.”

“Just as much as I love you.”

A good night swept every inch of sadness on her. Michael’s body was around her, warming her through the cold night.

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pl-panda · 5 years ago

Text

Damienette arranged marriage: part 5

Yet again two chapters in one day... I must stop spoiling you.

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Damienette arranged marriage: part 5

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“Yes. Our little grown up girl.” Marinette smiled and was about to run, but she heard her mother continue speaking. “But you are still grounded for two weeks.”

“Mom!” She shouted, but smiled and went back to her room.

Next two weeks were disastrous. Lila used Marinette’s absence to spread some nasty rumors and lies about her. Two days. That was more than enough for the whole class to turn against her. The previous incident and Lila’s supposed ‘disability’ was never revealed to the public, so they had no reason to mistrust her. But Marinette was still suddenly ostracized. But the most painful of this was Alya. She suddenly started to despise Marinette. It was like some kind of coping mechanism. Apparently, learning she would never become Rena Rogue again was hard on her too, and then learning that Marinette run away from home (a blatant lie, but Alya did believe) was enough for the aspiring reporter to change. Abandoned by Ladybug, abandoned by best friend, she clinged to what she had left. Alya now followed Lila, who she believed would never just leave her like that. Her and Nino became even more inseparable.

Marinette wanted to give the same explanation, but Lila was faster. ‘ Oh! So even madame Bourgeois doesn’t want you now so you came back with your tail between your legs?’ This sole comment killed any credibility to anything Marinette would say. The rumors that started to spread were awful. Some just outright refused to talk with her, others went as far as to mock the girl or use some inappropriate names toward her. From a popular girl Marinette became a loner. Even her internet boutique was not safe. Dozens of negative reviews spawned out of nowhere. There were more reviews than she ever done commissions. In the end, she had to take the page down to keep at least some of her reputation.

She still had Luka and Kagami, who stayed firmly by her side. But they could not really do anything to help her at school. And then there was Adrien. He was constantly trying to stop Marinette from going against Lila and convince her to just make peace with the girl. She wanted to strangle him. He was nothing like the charming boy who offered her an umbrella on the first day. Something has changed in this forty-eight hours. There was this… weight on his shoulders that was not here before.

Another matter was Chat Noir. When she first met him during a patrol, he threw a hissy-fit that she disappeared for several days. After she (truthfully) explained that she got married, the cat frowned and ran away. Since then, he was not seen. Ladybug had to manage on her own, with occasional help from Viperion and Ryuko. She had to manage. Red Robin would not help in the field, but he kept a steady eye on the city, working day and night trying to figure out who was Hawkmoth. Marinette was actually worried about Tim after she witnessed him drink coffee straight from an ancient jug. He said something about ‘needing inspiration from his ancestors’ which was quite hilarious since the vase was a cheap knock-off bough in one-euro store the previous day.

After a month of this kind of incredible hardship, Marinette had enough. She wanted this school-year to finally be over, but she still had seven more months to go. It pained her that school instead of offering her some help decided to instead follow up on Lila, making it seem like they forgot about her ‘disease’. Madame Bustier constantly demanded of Marinette to be the bigger person and ignore the taunts and headmaster few times threatened to expel her after Lila or the others reported her for bullying.

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Right now she was sitting in the back of the class when Madame Bustier walked with a boy in tow. Marinette instantly recognized him. Damian. He was wearing a dark-gray turtleneck jumper, dark-blue jeans and had his hair gelled back into spikes, revealing his forehead. Strange thing was that he carried a sword with him in addition to school bag.

“Students. Meet Damian Grayson. He is a member of exchange student from United States. Our school was chosen to participate in special program with Gotham Academy. Damian will be learning with us for this semester, and in exchange we will be able to all spend whole next semester in Gotham Academy to see how education differs between countries.”

Immediately, several hands shot up. Teacher chose Alix first, much to Lila’s anger. “It seems strange that just one student comes to us and in exchange we are all going there. Why are you alone?”

Caline was about to speak, but Damian was faster. He answered in perfect French. “Because only I volunteered to leave for half a year. Others were scared when headmaster announced that participants would at the end of semester have to take qualification exams.” His voice was cold and he made it clear he didn’t want more discussion.

“Don’t worry kids, on our side there is no such requirement, but you will have to still take the final exams to graduate into Lycee. Next question? Adrien.” She pointed to the blond boy.

“Why do you carry a sword with you?” He asked, pointing at the long weapon attached to his backpack. It was sheathed, but it was clear it was some eastern sword.

“Because I practice swordfighting.” Was the sole answer.

Marinette could hear some whispers. ‘ Whoa. He is almost as mean as Marinette’. She noticed he also picked this up and growled.

“What can you tell us about yourself?” Nino asked, not waiting for teacher to choose him.

“I am your age. I will be staying with my brother who works in Paris. I like art. I hate physical contact. If you try to touch me, I will throw you out of the window.” He said in completely emotionless voice, almost like this was casual speech he heard every day.

“Wow. You are almost as mean as this bully Marinette.” Alya commented. Damian gritted his teeth. He knew that Marinette was anything but a bully. He checked the files Tim pulled and it only strengthened his opinion on the girl. She was dealing with being bullied by a spoiled brat since she was six, yet she chose not to retaliate and instead try to make friends with the gil. She was class representative, took care of all the trips, volunteered at every possible action. She won several amateur fashion contests and most likely had at least a dozen famous people at speed dial. And yet, no one knew that. She worked under pseudonym to avoid attracting attention. And she was Paris greatest superhero. That was no bully material.

“Alya! Don’t say such things.” Lila scolded her friend. “Just because he is a bit harsh does not mean you should compare him to Marinette.”

There were still several hands in the air and teacher was about to choose next person, but Damian ignored them and walked to the back of the classroom and sat next to Marinette. There were several menacing stares in their direction and Damian held back the urge to scowl. So just because he took the only free place that just happened to be next to this girl, he was now their enemy? His hand kept twitching toward the blade, but he felt Marinette’s hand grab his under the table. She looked him in the eyes like she was trying to tell him that they are not worth it. And to his surprise, it worked. They silently turned back to the teacher who kept explaining the details of the exchange program.

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After the lessons were over, Damian started to pack his bag. His tracer rolled under the desk and he leaned to get it. There were steps rapidly approaching the desk.

“Listen here, Marinette. If you think just because this guy is new you will get him to be your friend, don’t even think about it. Either you stay away of him or I will make both your lives insufferable. I am the queen of this school and you will not oppose me.” The double-faced harlot tried to intimidate his wife. Damian, still under the table grabbed the sword, but from his place he could see Marinette’s face. She was giving him a side-glare telling him that it’s not worth it.

“I don’t control him Lila. Even if I wanted, I think he will do as he please.” Marinette was holding back a smile.

“Face it. I won the war. You have no friends, no name, no business, not even a boyfriend. I took everything from you. And if you continue, I will take your parents’ bakery next. You…” At this moment, Lila saw a silver blur and suddenly she had a blade pressed to her neck. Damian got out from under the table, drew his sword and pinned the girl to the wall in a matter of seconds.

“I think that’s enough. You will leave Marinette’s parents alone and you will not speak to her like this again. Otherwise, you will learn just how proficient I am with the sword. Did I make myself clear?” While Damian was ready to spill some Italian blood, one look at Marinette told him that she would’ve not forgiven him.

Lila eagerly nodded. When he let go of her and sheathed his sword, she scowled at the couple. “Ugh! The two of you are worth one another. It is not over. I will get back at you for this!” And with that, she run away as fast as humanly possible wearing stilettos.

Damian turned to see frowning Marinette. “I had it under control Damian. And what are you even doing here?”

“Sorry I protected you.” He snarled, but then he calmed and his face took more friendly look. At least by his standards, but to most it was still the ‘get the heck away from me if you value your health’ face. Luckily, Marinette wasn’t like the most. “I… I wanted to meet you. As a person I mean.” He said. The french girl looked at him, but said nothing. He decided that it would be best to get this done with. The classroom was a place as good as any. “Look. I know we met in… unusual circumstances. For better or worse, we are now married. But… I wish to try and actually build this relationship.” He spat it out of himself and looked at Marinette.

For a moment, she was confused at what he said, but then it clicked. “Wait. Are you… asking me out?” She said in disbelief

“um… Yes?” Damian said timidly. Why does it have to be so hard?!

“Then okay.” Marinette smiled. This took him by surprise. He half-expected her to reject him, to hate him for this, or to just run screaming like his brothers kept telling him all girls would.

“Really? Just like that?” It was now his turn to ask in disbelief.

“Yeah. I don’t really see why not.” She said smiling. “But I am paying. I don’t want anyone to think I am using you.” She stated firmly. This newfound confidence was a pleasant surprise for Damian. He noticed that while a bit shy and withdrawn, there was a heart of gold and nerves of steel underneath this. Happily, he took her hand and led her to the streets of Paris. Neither of them noticed a teenager in catsuit following them on the rooftops.

“I already lost my Lady. Nobody will take away my princess!”

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Taglist (sorry if I missed you)@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64 @dragonflyswing @silverwhiteraven @shamefullove @magic-miraculous @valeks-princess @heaven428 @mlbchaosqueen @winter-gardenflower @spicybelladonna @emo-elaine13 @vetilora @karukofox21 @my-name-is-michell @sturchling @lokiifriggasonn

#fanfiction #fanfic #maribat #maribat au #damienette #marinette x damian #guardian!marinette #order of the guardians #league of assassins #crossover #maridami #batman #mlb #miraculous lb #arranged marriage au

486 notes · View notes

artxyra · 5 years ago

Text

Another DC TA Marinette | #2

*So I’m still not good at fighting sequences, so if the fight scene towards the end seems off and not quite right, I’m sorry. Also if you asked to be tagged and don’t see your name please tell (DM) me so that I can add you to the next part. I’m aiming for at least 5 parts for this version, so we shall see how this will go.

Part 1 | Part 2 (here) |

Part 2: Dupont Meet Gotham

Caline was very, very sorry for her class. They haven’t been in Gotham for a single day and Lila’s already causing trouble. The trouble that cannot be fixed if something goes wrong here. There was no Hawkmoth to save her or to validate her emotions. It was no secret that Caline has Marinette on speed dial, but she knew how much the graduate loves her time away from this class. Maybe it was best to bring Marinette in and give the class a shock, but it may be too late for that.

“No, no, I’m Damian Wayne’s girlfriend, there must be a special or something for your boss’ heir.” Lila tries to spin her web of lies to the barista as the class gathers around at a nearby cafe.

The barista stares boringly at the Italian native waiting for her to make up her mind and order already.

“Look girly, you’re holding up the line. We don’t do specials for Wayne’s here, and if you’re truly Damian Wayne’s girlfriend then you would know that.” The barista states gesturing to the long line full of Dupont’s students and actual customers.

Lila’s eyes began to get teary-eyed, “I will have you know…”

“Lady, if you don’t order something in the next five seconds, you will be kick outta here.” The barista firmly states glaring at Lila with no room for negotiations.

Lila scoffs and runs into Alya’s waiting arms, crying her eyes out. Alya glares at the barista, who gave zero fucks about what just happened and takes the order of the next person.

“Shh...everything will be okay, Lila. Besides, don’t you have that date tonight with your boo?”

Lila sniffles a laugh and nods. Oh, how she has them deeply entangled in her web. “Then let this one incident go and let’s go out the strip, you can spend some of my earning for ice cream or something.”

Caline along with everyone (meaning two people, maybe four people) in the Marinette protection squad could do is either roll their eyes or shake their heads.

Chloe with her coffee in hand scoffs at the scene in front of her and looks over to Adrien. “At least she’s not hanging onto you every second of the day.” She jokes remembering the times when Lila’s lies were small and surrounding around the Agreste name.

Adrien softly groans, “Don’t remind me. For she had to be my date to one of my father’s fashion shows which were quite weird considering that I was already with Luka when it happened.”

“Yeesh,” Chloe grimace at the thought of that situation. Her phone buzz signaling an incoming message. It’s from Marinette.

“Bug is texting. I’m surprised she didn’t send it to the group chat.” Chloe states before taking a sip of her drink and opening the message.

Multi-Bug: Hey did you get to Gotham, alright?

Melitta Bee: Yea, y weren’t u w/ us?

Multi-Bug: You’ll see why soon ;)

Multi-Bug: Anywho, how’s the class goin?

Melitta Bee: Gettin worse by the min

Multi-Bug: It will be good soon

Chloe scoffs at the message and shakes her head. “Bug will be the death of me., literally.” She groans opting to not reply to the message.

“What did she say?” Adrien asks keeping a firm eye on Lilia, looking to see if she does anything stupid to get them killed.

“You know how cryptic she can be. All I got from that was that everything will be fine. Like how she’s going to get here? Seriously, this trip is utterly ridiculous, ridiculous.” Chloe vents to the model.

Adrien nods, but then quickly nudges Chloe seeing that Lila is heading there way.

“Oh look, trouble.” Chloe jokes as Lila stands very close to the two blondes.

“Do you always complain about stuff, Chloe. I only came here to befriend you seeing that Mari isn't here to corrupt you.” And there goes the dramatics.

“The only thing that is corrupted is you and this fucking class.” Chloe turns around, grabbing Adrien’s hand, and walk out of the cafe.

Chloe B. @queenbeeyellow Hey, wish @mdcfashion is here with us. It’s boring here w/ only @adrienagreste

Attach is an image of Chloe and Adrien in front of the cate wearing sunglass and making funny hand gestures towards the camera. It was clear that it was a selfie.

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Marinette smiles at the tweet before returning her attention back to the Headmaster of Gotham Academy, Mr. Collingwood .

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, where are your key cards for access to the building of both here and to your class’s residential stay. Will you be joining them at the hotel or be staying with Mr. Wayne?”

“I’ll be staying with Mr. Wayne, Mr. Collingwood .” She answers with a soft smile.

The headmaster nods and leans back into his chair.

“I’m I required to participate in class sessions as a student or am I just there to observe?” It was an honest question seeing that she is the teacher assistant rather than a student.

“That would depend on your class’ homeroom teacher. It is most likely that you and that teacher’s T.A. would work together and demonstrate whatever projects are and hand out paperwork.” He answers clasping his hands together as his focus remains on Marinette.

Marinette nods and takes the small stack of supplies into her arms.

Marinette: I have gotten everything ready

Marinette: Everything should be set for Monday. I’ll see you then.

Mme. Bustier: Oh thank you, Marinette.

Mme. Bustier: Your classmates will be ecstatic to know that you’ll be here.

Marinette: I doubt that.

Caline Bustier closes her messenger app and turns to the class and gasps. The core Lila group is missing. No longer in the cafe, just great, great. They barely know their surrounding area despite what Lila said about being here, but if that was true it wasn’t recently. Places change and Gotham is no different.

“Chloe, Adrien, do you know where the core group went?” Caline asks, turning her attention to the two blondes drinking, perhaps coffee, maybe even tea.

Chloe shrugs while Adrien shakes his head unsure how to answer. It was no secret that the dislike the Lila group.

“First day here and I’ve already lost some teens.” Caline huffs and walks out of the cafe to find her so-called perfect students.

“Did she look panic to you?” Adrien asks setting his drink down.

Chloe nods, “Should we go help?”

“It’ll lessen her panic attack later.” Adrien agrees as the two of them get up and follow their teacher.

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Tina @thepinkmistress #anotherdayingotham so apparently Two-Face has a bunch of foreigners held at gunpoint. They’re officially now apart of Gotham

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With Lila and her small crew of loyal followers, they were just stirring up trouble. It all started when Alya offered to take Lila out to the strip for shopping not realizing how dangerous it was to be. Well, it’s not like they cared. To them, this was a vacation with added on classes.

“Oh, I can’t believe my Damibear texted me saying that he was excited that I was back in town. We can finally rekindle that long lost love we had.” Lila gossips about as the two were entering a nearby storefront.

“Girl, you’ve waited long enough, let’s go prep you for your man,” Alya exclaims dragging the twin tail girl further into the store. Nino unsure why he is with them just sighs and looks for something to give to Alya as he wasn’t able to for their anniversary.

“What do you mean, he doesn’t have a discount here?” Oh great, here we go again.

“Look, lady, Damian Wayne may be a big name here, but we don’t do discounts for people like him.” The store attendant spoke up about rubbing her hands against her face.

“Surely, he would have a tab open or something. He knows this is one of my favorite stores to shop in when I’m in town.”

“Uh...we just opened our stores, like, two years ago. That and we’re strictly located here and in Metropolis.”

Lila pouts and begins to throw a fit. If only, Hawkmoth was here.

“Girl. I sure this is some kind of mishap. I’ll pay for the clothes and then we can go sightseeing in this part of town.” Alya offers, showing her a credit card in her hand.

Lila squeals and jumps into Alya’s arms. Little did she know that it was actually Nino’s credit card instead of Alya’s. Alya’s parents were very concern about their daughter’s spending habits and put a cap on it that she clearly maxed out before the trip.

Ivan walks over to Nino seeing as the poor DJ was lonely and that Mylene was trapped in the web of lies, well he is too, but he hides it well under the impression that it’s to make Mylene happy.

“You okay?” Ivan asks catching the Dj’s attention.

Nino grunts and shakes his headphones off. “No--yes-maybe, I don’t know.” He admits staring off to the empty space that was his girlfriend and her best friend.

Before Ivan could answer, a loud scream can be heard from outside the store.

“Shit, do not leave this place.” The store attendant gasps, only to be ignored by the remaining students of Dupont. The store attendant sighs and ducks behind the desk.

“Lila!” Alya screeches.

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Miraculously Safe GC:

Melitta: How quickly can you lose a spider?

Ryouko: Quick why?

Musical Viper: That depends, when did you see the spider? How big was it?

Melitta: Mme. B lost the spider and her trapees

Multi-Bug: WHAT!!!

PunNoir: Yeah, she lost them so now we’re out searching for them.

Melitta: It’s not like they went that far?

Multi-Bug: You’re in Gotham, crime central, and she lost some students!!!

Ryouko: I’m sure everything will be fine, Bee.

Musical Viper: Keep your eyes open, Punn, if things do go wrong we’re only a plane ticket away.

Melitta: SHIT!! Lila started up another mess.

Muli-Bug: WHAT!!!

Chloe and Adrien quickly hide their phones and disappear behind a building, hoping that the shadows cover them from the watchful eyes of Two-Face and his minions.

Mme. Bustier apparently didn’t get that message and wounded up wrapped into the mess her students have caused.

Two-Faced stares menacing at the teens as his men surround the group all at gunpoint.

Lila being the idiot she is started crying how her Damibear would pay him, save her even. The man was not swayed.

“Clean, we shut the girl up; scarred, we kill her right here and now.” He murmurs drawing out his lucky coin to do his bidding. “However, we don’t have much time. That bats would be here any minute.”

As Two-Face explains his plan to his men, one of the guns goes off. Everyone shrieks in terror. Alya stares, frozen as her phone lays died with a bullet hole on the ground. Blood seeps through her hands.

“Boss, she was filming us.” One of the henchmen explains with steam oozing out of his gun.

“Dumb girl, did she really think it was smart to film right in front of us. At least be like every citizen here and do it in secret.” Two-Face groans, gesturing for the men to fire a new round.

Everything freeze, while Lila screams her head off naming off every possible hero she could think of.

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

Marinette runs through the city at a hasty pace. She’s maneuvering her way through the large crowd of citizens all trying to get away from the lastest villain attack down near the shopping strip. Marinette comes to a barreling stop.

She could hear the cries of Lila Rossi from a block away and it was painful to hear. Her naming every hero only to get knocked upside the head by one of the henchmen. This will not look good for the exchange program in the future. Mme. Bustier tries—and fails—to negotiate with Two-Face.

Two-Face keeps playing with his coin deciding what misery he shall put these foreigners through just to grab the Bat’s attention. Then again would he even care, that just means new toys for him and his men.

Marinette looks around searching for a distraction. Nothing comes up. She needs to think fast seeing as the Batfam and they are currently being held up. Not that the public needs to know that. She got it. Getting closer to the range. She then pulls out her traveling yoyo and readies a swing.

Just as Two-Face flips his coin, Marinette throws the yoyo.

The yoyo knocks the coin away, just as the string wraps around it as she pulls back. The Parisians students look up hoping to see a familiar hero in red and black. They saw no one.

“Find my coin you fools and kill however took the dang thing.” Two-Face shouts out in a fit of rage.

Marinette yelps and disappears around the corner. She finds Chloe and Adrien hiding spot not far from her. Unwrapping the coin from the string, she tosses it up into the sky and takes off before gunshots are heard near her way.

“Thank god you guys are okay.” She pants out, scaring Chloe in the process as the Bee miraculous holder shrieks out and attempts to roundhouse kick the graduate. “Chloe! It’s me.”

“Multi?” Chloe gasps out in shock as she finally takes in the appearance of her leader. Marinette wasn’t in her usual Paris getup but instead in a pair of black leggings, an over-the-shoulder tee with all the Batfamily emblems. Ankle boot thick heels, good for running. The biggest difference being her hair as it’s half up and half down with pink lowlights covering the once fully black, nearly blue hair. “Damn, hun, you look fine.”

Marinette chuckles, “I’m sure ‘Gami would love to hear you say that.”

Chloe shrugs as Adrien comes out of his shocked stance. “Mari, what? How? When?”

“At ease Chaton, I’ve been here in Gotham for the past few weeks. However, that is not our issue right now. The class is being held hostage by Two-Face, a villain with a mess-up sense of justice. An excellent attorney but he has a few loose screws. I bought the class time from being publicly executed for the Bats to get here. I just hope that they do it quickly.

From the corner of her eye, Marinette could spot the familiar colors, that she very much hate but haven’t gotten the time to screech at them for, appearing on the rooftops of a nearby building.

“Thank kwami, they’re here.”

“Who’s here?” Adrien and Chloe chimes together. Marinette smiles at the two with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Two-Face let the students go?” Batman demands, appearing on the scenes with little to no room for negotiations.

“And where’s the fun in that, Batman?” Two-Face asks as a new coin is placed into his hand. It may not be the one that Marinette stole but it will do. “Clean says I leave, but scarred says I will kill every one of them.” He tosses the coin up.

The coin lands in his hand, lifting his hand up it shows the scarred face of the coin. “Oh look at that, they’re dead anyway.”

Immediately, the henchman readies there guns only for bat-a-rangs to knock them out of the out of their hands.

“They never come alone do they?” Two-Face mutters as Robin and Nightwing jumps down into the scene.

Robin with no hesitation attacks and disarm whoever comes his way. Batman could only facepalm seeing his son basically ignore the plan. Nightwing shrugs and joins in. This only left the big Bat and Two-Face at a stand-off. Two-Face readies his own gun and shoots a couple of rounds at the dark knight.

It wasn’t long before the fight ends and the paramedics come in to help the injured students. Marinette motions for Chloe and Adrien to follow. She walks over to Robin with her arms folded against her chest.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He whispers to her when she was in earshot. Marinette huffs and rolls her eyes before playing the average Batfamily fangirl.

“Oh my god, Batman, you saved my class!” She squeals. Her voice catches the attention of her conscious classmates.

“Marinette?!” They shout in disbelief as Mme. Bustier smiles in relief.

The paramedics gave Mme. Bustier a slip as the class minus Aly and Lilia, both who are still in custody of the paramedics, run over to their missing classmate.

Marinette quickly gives Robin a knowing look before focusing her attention on the class.

It wasn’t long before she’s surrounded by an overwhelming amount of questions. So, now they care about her.. Yikes. Marinette turns to Chloe and Adrien for help. Chloe scoffs and shoves through the class.

“Leave the girl alone, besides you just went through something most people would consider traumatizing but knowing us this is nothing compare to dealing with akumas.”

Marinette smiles at Chloe.

The class disperses.

“Maybe it’s time for us to head back to the hotel.” Mme. Bustier pipes up knowing full well that she’ll have to report this incident to the board under the predicament that it was due to Lila’s compulsive lying that put them through struggle.

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

At the Dupont’s homestay--well it was more of a hotel than anything, Lila and Alya were ushered to their rooms while the rest of the class goes to comfort the two in the best way possible. While that was going on. Marinette decided to have a meeting with Caline about the issue.

“She can’t be alone in this city.”

“I know that, Marinette.”

“On a different note, I’ll be attending your class session at the academy.”

“That’s good, isn’t it? “I suppose, but it’ll be slightly harder to keep my status as a lycee graduate under wraps.”

“You’re what!” The familiar sound of Chloe’s shrill voice echos in the room.

“Hi Chloe,” Marinette meekly greets one of her best friends.

“Don’t hey Chloe, me missy. When were you going to tell us that you graduate?”

Caline took this moment to exit the room leaving the two teens to their demise.

“Do you want the real answer or the answer that will satisfy you?”

Chloe glares down at the teacher assistant.

Marinette sighs, “I’ve been done with lycee since last quarter. Instead of making a big deal of graduating early, I volunteered to be a teacher assistant for the rest of the year while I start my university courses online.”

Chloe looks down before hugging Marinette. “Thank you,” She whispers into the graduate’s neck. “You could have left Adrien and me to the spider but you chose not to. Thank you, Multi for everything.”

Marinette blinks the tear away and returns the hug.

Marinette left the hotel with the promise of catching up tomorrow when they have class. The only thing good that came through was that she didn’t have to deal with Alya or Lila that night, the next day, she wasn’t so sure yet.

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

“That was really stupid of you, Angel, to get involve like that,” Damian states bringing his girlfriend into his arms when she’s safely located in his bedroom.

Marinette giggles and kisses his cheek. “It wasn’t like I was directly involved., my Prince.” She whispers into his ear. A faint pink blush against Damian’s cheeks.

“If it wasn’t for Robin and the rest, you could have been killed if Two-Face found out that it was you that took his coin.”

“You know I’m stronger than what I look. Besides, I have better things to worry about than a villain that isn’t my foe.”

Damian groans, “Angel, you will be the death of me.”

Instead of speaking, Marinette kisses him, allowing him to pull them onto the bed.

“Use protection!” One of his brothers shout out, it was most likely Jason.

“Kill him in the morning, when I’m not around.” Marinette murmurs before preceding with their original plan.

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

The next morning, the Dupont class along with Marinette stands outside the booming gates of Gotham Academy.

“I wonder if my Damibear is here, too. The last I heard he was overseas on a family vacation.” Lila blissfully wonders to get the reassurance from her loyal friends.

Marinette rolls her eyes and looks to the person walking towards the gate.

Manette @gothamsfashionsense Hanging out in GA for the next couple of days. Does anyone want to join?

In the image attached is a photo of a coffee cup in one hand with the gates of Gotham Academy in the background.

As of 12/9/19, the Tag List is CLOSED

Any asks before that will still be added. After that, I’m sorry but can follow my fic tags.

#daminette #marinette x damian #teacher assistant Marinette AU #teacher assistant au #maribat #dc x mlb #ml x dc #dc crossover #ml crossover #miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug

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slytherinknowitall · 4 years ago

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Potion Fumes and Cauldron Leaks

Chapter 13: Dressed-Up Figures and Undressed Souls

(Click here for chapter 12!)

(Click here to start from the beginning!)

Disclaimer: I don’t own the “Harry Potter” book series. The story of “Harry Potter” is the property of J. K. Rowling, it is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

The remainder of the month went by in a breeze, and looking back, the Potions professor realised that it had been the happiest time of his life.

Severus still felt uneasy about his feelings towards Granger, of course; so much so that he even promised it to himself to never act on them. Quickly backpaddling on the thought that the two of them could become friends – after all, a teacher and a student becoming too close would always be weird, no matter the circumstances – he instead decided to quietly admire his beloved from afar. In a bid to distance himself from her and her enticing charms, he restricted their private lessons to the two mandatory sessions a week and made sure to drop a snide remark here and there – though they somehow never seemed as harsh anymore. It did not help, however, that the young woman seemed unfazed by all of that; she would still always show up to their meetings beaming at the Potions Master’s face.

So at the end of the day, he still could not help but experience almost juvenile-like euphoria. She liked him, too! Granted, she was not in love with him or anything, but indeed just the fact that his new object of affection liked him on a platonic level made Severus feel all kinds of ways. As a result, his behaviour seemed to change. Although he tried his best to behave like his normal mean self, he would sometimes suddenly find himself softly humming as he made his way through the castle’s countless corridors, and every once in a while, he would even accidentally chuckle at some of his colleagues’ lousy attempts at jokes over dinner. He also caught himself daydreaming about the Gryffindor more frequently, but he did not mind it that much anymore. Instead, he chose to quietly enjoy all of these new-found emotions.

As for Granger, well, she was back to her bubbly, know-it-all self. She had quickly begun to show up for class on time again, handing in excellent essays and fiercely waving her hand around trying to be “the chosen one” who got to answer questions. That behaviour also extended to their apprenticeship lessons, with her bombarding her tutor with countless questions about this and that, attempting to extract every single bit of knowledge, howsoever small, from the talented wizard’s mind. Severus could not help but be a tad bit amused by her eagerness to learn. He was still trying to maintain his reputation as the snarky, greasy-haired git of the dungeons, of course; so on the rare occasions when he actually answered one of her questions, he would do so in his typical scoffing fashion. In reality, however, he was delighted by their relatively one-sided conversations. He was utterly fascinated by the way her mind appeared to work as well as the huge range of topics in which she took an interest. After years of unsuccessfully searching for a suitable conversational partner with which to have intellectually stimulating discussions, he had finally found one – and in a member of the Golden Trio at that!

A few weeks ago, they had even taught their first class together. Severus had to admit that he had been sceptical at first about that part of the apprenticeship programme; however, Granger had done surprisingly well. Having come in prepared with a perfectly outlined lesson plan, she had no trouble properly instructing a group of second-years on how to brew the Fire Protection Potion. A nice and helpful teacher, her presence had seemed to make the pupils breathe a little easier in what is otherwise a rather strict class; some had even managed to create potions that were noticeably better than any others they’d handed in before. Though this of course did not mean that Severus planned on making any permanent changes to his personal style of teaching. The reason behind his sternness was completely logical: Unruliness had absolutely no place in his classroom, as safety always came first in a potions lab!

On one particular Thursday – the day before Halloween to be exact – the Head of Slytherin found himself in the dimly lit Potions classroom, brewing yet another one of Madam Pomfrey’s last-minute orders; unfortunately, the matron had apparently not taken to heart his elaborate lecture about ordering often-needed potions well in advance. Working side by side with his apprentice, they were preparing a batch of Antidote to Common Poisons and a few phials of Laxative Potion respectively.

Just as Severus was rummaging through his storage room in the search for some lavender essence, he heard his student speak up.

“While everyone knows that the headmaster is a – for the lack of a better word – special character, I must say that I’m still a bit dumfounded by this announcement,” her melodic voice resonated from the ancient stone walls. “Having spent the better part of my childhood in the Muggle world, I am obviously familiar with the practice. But all those scary things, those creatures that Muggles dress up as – most of them actually exist in the wizarding world! So why should we magic folk put on costumes like that? I just find it quite bizarre and …”

Finally having found the little ampoule for which he had been searching, Severus returned to his workstation as Granger continued to ramble on and on. He obviously knew what she was talking about. Just this morning at breakfast, Dumbledore had suddenly announced that this year’s Hallowe’en Feast would come with a little twist: It would be a fancy-dress party Muggle style, and everyone attending was expected to show up wearing a costume. Snape groaned at the mere thought of it. This year, the old man was just implementing one silly rule after another. Sometimes, the half-blood believed that the headmaster came up with all of his crazy antics with the sole purpose of annoying his younger colleague.

“Anyway,” the witch said, at last concluding her babbling. “What are you going as?”

Severus, who was in the process of measuring out the correct amount of Honeywater for his potion, stopped dead in his tracks and looked at the young woman with a stone-cold expression.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked snappishly.

His protégée’s hazel eyes turned big. “Oh, um, I’m talking about the Hallowe’en Feast, sir,” she stuttered rather sheepishly. “I was just wondering what your costume will be.”

“Costume? Miss Granger, am I really to believe that you would be stupid enough to assume that I, Severus Snape, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin, would take part in such a ridiculous display of foolishness?!”

He could practically see her confidence crumble before his very eyes, and he would have lied if he said that that did not make him feel a tiny bit bad. After hectically searching for something to say for a few moments, she dropped her gaze.

“Of course not,” she then mumbled. “My apologies …”

Granger quickly turned her attention back to her project, and so Snape did the same, trying hard to ignore that slight sting he felt in his chest.

For a while, they worked in silence. Once he finished his potion, Severus began looking for the little piece of parchment paper on which Poppy had written her order, wanting to double check if he had prepared the correct amount. Following a minute-long search, he finally found it on Granger’s side of the desk. When he went to pick it up, however, he noticed a strange, scarlet red dot on it.

Confused, he turned to face his apprentice, intending to ask her about it, when he noticed what appeared to be a fair amount of blood smeared all across the girl’s chin and lips. While he had long ago taken note of her tendency to subconsciously bite her lips whenever she was anxious or scared, he had never seen it get so bad to the point that she would make herself bleed like that. Severus could not help but feel guilty about this; it had to have been his unkind reply which had caused it.

“Miss Granger,” he muttered softly. When she looked up in surprise, he handed her the white handkerchief he always carried in the left pocket of his cloak. “You are bleeding.”

He watched as she hastily brought up her right hand to her face and then stared in disbelief at the shiny red liquid which now covered her fingertips.

Not giving her a chance to speak, he said, “When I was just a mere child growing up in Muggle England, Halloween was not yet what it is today. It did exist, yes, but the act of dressing up and having little get-togethers was not as wide-spread yet.”

Walking past her to the table, Snape picked up a small, clean blade and started cutting a few sprouts of Agrimonia into small pieces.

“However, I do distinctly recall one time when the town I was living in announced that it would host a celebration in the community centre, complete with costumes and all kinds of entertaining activities. Rather untypical for that dirty hellhole, really …” He sighed. “So I spent the whole day getting ready, gathering supplies for my costume from all around the house and borrowing some of my mother’s makeup. After hours of work, I had finally finished creating my ensemble and was about to leave, excited for the hours of fun to come, when my father came home from a day at the bar.”

He looked up, meeting the gaze of his student. Her expression had confusion written all over it.

“My father was not a kind man, Miss Granger. I am afraid that I take after him quite a lot when it comes to having anger issues.” His lips formed a thin line. “He was especially not fond of anything magical. He despised my mother and I for our abilities, calling us freaks, monstrosities. When he saw that I was dressed up as a wizard, he lost it. He tore apart my carefully crafted costume before my very eyes, and that night, I received the worst beating of my life as my mother just passively watched. It was so bad that I was not able to go to school for two weeks afterward.”

Granger gasped in shock. “That’s terrible! I –, I … I am so sorry, sir.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and Severus thought that he could see tears forming in her eyes.

He waved off her concern with a simple gesture of the hand. “That was a long time ago, Miss Granger,” he said seemingly nonchalantly, but his trembling hands gave him away as he added the shredded plant to the cauldron in front of him.

“However, I do feel like it is understandable that ever since that day, I have taken a dislike to this particular festivity.” Of course, that was only half of it – but he did not think it appropriate to disclose the trauma connected to the murder of his childhood love. “And while being one of the teachers at this school has made me feel compelled to take part in the yearly feast thus far, I have decided to allow myself to refrain from participating this time.”

What followed was silence. While the seventh-year was evidently at a loss for words, Snape continued to diligently prepare the green-coloured potion. He knew that he probably should not have shared such private information with her. But for some reason, it was just so easy to open up to her, to share his painful memories with her.

It was only after he had finished the magical concoction and went to grab a box of crystalline phials for bottling that Granger said, “It’s certainly not my place to speak of your awful experiences or offer any solutions, sir. But perhaps tomorrow is your one chance to regain the experience you were so wrongfully robbed of.”

Not knowing what to answer, Severus remained quiet.

*************** *************** ***************

Even though it was now her seventh time experiencing the event, Hermione still could not help but be amazed as she entered the Great Hall.

Like every year, the huge room had been decorated in great detail for the Hallowe’en Feast. A few dozen black cauldrons stuffed with gigantic lollipops as well as large pumpkins, some filled with candy and others with candles, were distributed throughout the hall. Looking up at the Enchanted Ceiling, she could see the dark night sky with seemingly endless stars sparkling in the distance. Flying in and out of low-hanging black clouds, both live bats as well as flaming orange streamers were swooping over the long tables which were filled with sheer massive amounts of food and drinks: devilled eggs and butternut squash soup, candy apples and carrot cake, butterbeer and gillywater, roasted turkey legs and fish pie. There was even an apple bobbing station in one corner.

However, the one thing which stood out the most was admittedly the people’s attire. Students and staff alike were dressed in various costumes, some magical and some obviously Muggle-made. In a sea of creepy clowns and heavily made-up princesses, Hermione was able to spot Lavender Brown standing in a secluded nock, dressed as a gigantic pink and baby blue cupcake, flirting with a sixth-year Hufflepuff boy wearing a cheap one-piece skeleton suit. Sitting at the edge of the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy could be seen in an exquisite Victorian-era gown, appearing to be disgusted with the way his two friends Crabbe and Goyle, who were dressed as a mummy and a pirate respectively, were stuffing their faces with black pudding, roasted potatoes and mince pie.

Making her way to the Gryffindor table, Hermione made sure to say hello to Luna Lovegood as she walked past her. The eccentric witch was wearing an unidentifiable mixture of different patterned scraps of cloths paired with a wide array of flashy accessories, which was probably meant to represent some strange creature of which no one but her had ever heard. After fighting her way through the sizeable crowd, the Head Girl then finally reached her friends.

“Bloody hell, Hermione!” Ron exclaimed, waving his fork, and the piece of Beef Wellington impaled on it, at her. He was dressed in an Auror uniform. “You look smokin’ hot! You’re a sexy kitten or what?”

He flashed her a crooked smile, but she merely cringed at his lousy and rather vulgar attempt at flirting – it seemed as though he still had not got the memo that she just was not interested in him that way.

But it was in fact true that she was dressed as a cat. After taking the longest time deciding on a costume, Hermione had spent the better part of her afternoon getting ready for the feast. Throwing her outfit together from scratch, she had put on a tight-fitting, long-sleeved bodysuit and paired it with fishnet stockings and a pair of high-waisted faux leather shorts – all in black, of course. She had then used her magic skills to transfigure a pair of fuzzy socks into a headband with feline ears, followed by turning an old scarf into a tail. To top off her outfit, she had added a black lace-trimmed collar as well as high-heeled over-the-knee boots. Her makeup was kept simple, with only some basic pencil eyeliner strokes across her face to mimic a cat’s primary features, and as for her hair, well, she had just let it do its own wild thing. Granted, the outfit she was wearing was a lot more revealing than what Hermione would normally go for, but for some reason, she did not care that night. She thought that her look was fierce, and it made her feel powerful somehow.

Ignoring her pasty-skinned friend’s goggling eyes, she smiled at the couple seated next to him. Harry was dressed as a noble king, cheap plastic crown and all, and Ginny, who was sitting on his lap, was wearing a scarecrow costume. She greeted them, and they all chatted for a bit, but for some reason, something appeared a bit off with her best friend; the redhead seemed somewhat distracted. Not wanting to make a scene in front of everybody, Hermione made a mental note to ask her about it later. She was used to Harry being morose around this time of year, but seeing Ginny that unusually quiet set off red flags in her mind.

Turning her attention to the table filled with all kinds of tasty dishes, her mouth started to water. Before she helped herself to anything, however, she cast a glance at the High Table. A quick scan of the people seated at it later, she had to suppress her laughter. Sitting on the large golden chair in the middle, Professor Dumbledore instantly stood out in what was apparently a life-size replica of his favourite candy, sherbet lemon. Next to the headmaster, Professor McGonagall was sporting a kind of toned-down, more age-appropriate Snow White costume, which made her look surprisingly adorable. Professor Vector and Professor Babbling were both dressed up as Cleopatra, Madam Hooch had put on her favourite Quidditch team’s uniform, and Professor Sprout was – surprise, surprise – some sort of plant. A zombie Professor Flitwick could be seen conversing with Professor Sinistra, who was wearing a stripped burglar costume, and Hagrid was dressed in a painfully small Popeye costume. Professor Trelawney was a mouse, Professor Burbage resembled a gumdrop machine for some reason, and Lupin depicted a dog – that last one made her giggle yet again. The only one without a costume was Professor Binns, though that seemed obvious, given his ghost body.

Merely one person was missing: the Potions Master. Hermione could not help but feel a little bit disappointed. She had known that he probably would not show up, but she had still allowed herself to have some hope.

The young woman spent the next hour or so devouring Hogwarts’ finest foods while conversing and laughing with her housemates, almost forgetting about her tutor’s absence from the feast. Finally leaning back with a full stomach, she stuck her hands in the pockets of her shorts.

“What the –“

Stunned, she pulled out a tiny, folded piece of paper which had definitely not been there at the beginning of the night. Opening it under the table, out of view from her seatmates, she read the short note.

Entrance hall, now.

Hermione instantly knew whose meticulous handwriting that was. She had to give it to him, sneaking a message into the very clothing she was wearing without her noticing required skill, and she was definitely impressed. Excusing herself from the table under the pretence of having to use the bathroom, she quickly left the room through the tall double doors, forcing them apart just wide enough for her to slip through.

Once in the Front Hall, she glanced around but saw no one. Taking one more step into the room, she sharply jolted when she suddenly caught movement out of the corner of her eyes. She whipped around just in time to witness the Potions professor emerge from behind the Slytherin house point hourglass. Looking at his oval face, she could have sworn that she saw his eyes widen for a second as they wandered across her body.

“Professor Snape,” she said, a bit out of breath.

“Miss Granger, you are … a cat?” She could hear the clear disbelief in his voice, and for some reason, that made her snigger.

“Well yes, sir, it’s my costume!” She frowned as she eyed his attire. “But I can see that you stuck with your decision not to dress up.”

“That is not entirely true.”

Her eyebrows knitted in bemusement. “I don’t think I understand. You look the same as you always do.”

She could see him take a deep breath, almost as if he were psyching himself up, before he did something that she was sure no one had ever seen him do: He flashed her a big smile.

Hermione let out an audible gasp of astonishment. At first, she was too shocked to do anything but stare directly at him. Professor Snape’s smile seemed a bit unnatural and more or less forced, but she still had to admit that it made him look a lot younger and less stern. That in turn made something unfamiliar stir deep inside her, but she chose to ignore that for now.

It was only after a few moments that she noticed something odd about his teeth. His two upper incisors seemed a bit out of place. They were quite long, almost as if they were fangs. Combined with his long, dark robes, that kind of made him look like a –

“You’re dressed as a vampire!” she spat out, positively flabbergasted. When he gave an affirmative nod, she felt a rush of excitement travel through her entire body. He had actually done it! Severus Snape had dressed up at her suggestion!

Hermione knew that she was about to push her luck hard, but she was simply so overjoyed that she could not possibly control her emotions. With one big leap, she closed the distance between them and threw her arms around her teacher.

“Happy Halloween, Professor!” she rejoiced as she buried her face in the black fabric covering his broad chest.

*************** *************** ***************

He could feel the warmth radiating from her body which was tightly pressed against his. He could smell the fruity scent of her favourite shampoo coming from her voluminous locks as they tickled his beaked nose. He could hear her slightly accelerated breathing, his arms wrapped around her torso rising just a little at every breath. He could see a small birthmark, so tiny that it was almost invisible, situated at the nape of her neck. And for just a moment, he allowed himself to melt into her hug, his eyes closed shut.

Severus Snape was doomed, and he knew it. But in that exact moment, he did not care one bit.

(Click here for chapter 14!)

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multishipperlove · 5 years ago

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Caleb Widogast, Bren Aldric Ermendrud, Astrid (Critical Role), Eodwulf (Critical Role), Leofric Ermendrud, Caleb Widogast's Mother, Trent Ikithon Additional Tags: Child Abuse, Corporal Punishment, Coming of Age, blumenthal trio, the blumenthal three, if you squint it's poly trio but can be read either way, so I'm not sure if I should tag that, also I'm taking a lot of leeway here guys, Soltryce Academy, graphic description of the crystal torture Summary:

Bren Aldric Ermendrud had been groomed for success from a very young age. From the first time his parents send him to school to his last day with Trent Ikithon, expectations were high.

Bren was four.

He was four, and for a four-year-old, he already knew a lot. He could tell people his age, and his name, and where he lived. He knew all the letters, both in reading and writing, and could even count up to over one hundred. What he was especially proud of was the few words of Common he could speak, because his father always said that Common was the language of the Empire and it would do him more good than his mother tongue, Zemnian, one day.

More than anything though, Bren knew that his parents loved him. He saw it in the way his father smiled at him, when he usually smiled so little. In the way his mother tucked him in at night, and still insisted on reading him a bed story every night even though he could technically do that himself by now. He knew that they loved him because they said so, often, and that was already more than enough.

Sometimes though, when he wasn't in the room with them, he could hear them arguing with each other. It wasn't like a real fight, they weren't yelling, but still. Bren didn't like it.

Right now it was especially bad, because their voices had woken him up. But he was supposed to be asleep, which meant he couldn't go into the other room and make them stop. And they were slowly getting louder, loud enough that Bren could understand what they were saying, even though it was still muffled through the wall.

He could pick up his father's voice first, and he sounded agitated.

“I know you are worried, but I only want the best for him! We can barely keep him entertained in the house, do you want all that potential to go to waste?”

“No, of course not.” That worried voice belonged to his mother. “But he's four! Every other child in the class will be at least two years older than him, what if they are... what if they are mean to him?”

Bren knew what this was about now. Lately, his parents had been thinking about signing him up for school this summer. He wasn't exactly sure why that would be so much of a deal, and would have liked to go if they had asked him, but he didn't want to scare his mother.

She was already so worried about his father all the time, that he would be “called to the front again”. Bren wasn't sure what that meant, mostly because people refused to explain it to him, but it surely wasn't a good thing. It had something to do with his job and the bad limp he'd had ever since Bren could remember, but that was all he knew for sure.

Suddenly realizing that he'd lost track of the conversation in the other room, the boy concentrated on that again. His mother again.

“Where will we even get the money, Leofric?”

There was a short pause, and Bren was sure that his father sighed. He did that a lot.

“We could get most of that second hand. What about your friend, Sofine? Doesn't she have a son who's a few years older? I'm sure she still has some of the things that the boy has grown out of, and they would fit Bren just fine.”

“I could ask,” his mother agreed, carefully. “But even then, there's still the school fees to worry about.”

“We can take care of that. It's just the public school down the road, how much can they take?” his father answered again, and he sounded tired. Either the conversation was over after that, or Bren just couldn't hear them anymore. But discussions about money were always difficult, since they didn't have a lot of it. It was the reason his mother mended his clothes over and over instead of buying new things, and why he could never get a treat from one of the nice market booths when she took him along for running errands.

Bren closed his eyes again and buried his face in Frumpkin's fur, letting the gentle purring sound that came from the small body calm him down again (technically Frumpkin wasn't supposed to get into his bed. Technically). He was excited, because school sounded so much better than re-reading all the “child-friendly” books he was allowed to keep in his room, or being dropped off at his mother's friend's house when she had an appointment where he couldn't come along.

But he didn't want to get his hopes up either.

Bren was ten.

He was ten, and had already changed school twice. From the small public school down the road to the one further into town, and now to a private one right in the centre of Blumenthal. It took him half an hour every morning to get there on foot, but it was worth it. So was the school uniform he had to wear everyday, and the heavier books he carried with him.

The new school also cost a lot of money, and the only thing keeping him from feeling too guilty was that, as long as he kept his grades up, there was an agreement for his parents to pay less. So he did what he could, kept his head down to avoid trouble with his classmates (always being the youngest in class wasn't easy), kept his grades up to avoid trouble with his teacher, and all in all just tried to draw as little negative attention to himself as he could.

Which was mainly the reason he'd almost suffered a heart attack when his teacher had handed him a letter to deliver to his parents the other week, with the strong instruction not to open it himself.

His father hadn't seemed angry though when reading it, just send him off to his room to do his homework. A week later he still wasn't sure what exactly the letter said, but now he was sitting in the headmaster's office with his parents with the vague answer of “it's about your education”. He really hated it when adults refused to tell him things.

Finally, the door to the office opened and the headmaster, Mr. Albrecht, stepped inside to join them. He gave the family a pleasant smile and both his parents got up to shake hands with the man. Bren wasn't offered the same, but hadn't expected it either.

“Mr. and Mrs. Ermendrud, Bren, so glad that all of you could make it,” the man started, before sitting down in the big chair behind the desk and shuffling some papers in front of him. They sat in silence for a moment while he studied what looked to be a file in front of him (Bren was sure that it was about him), and then looked up again. “Bren, how long have you been with us now?”

The question left Bren with a sinking feeling in his stomach, but he answered quickly. “Eight months and twenty six days, sir.”

Mr. Albrecht nodded, and Bren started to squirm in his seat again until his father's piercing gaze made him stop. “Exactly,” the man started, before focusing from Bren back on his parents. “And I have to admit, in that short time, Bren has already exceeded some of our expectations. When his old teacher contacted us with the plea of taking him in, we thought the woman was exaggerating his abilities. She was definitely not.”

Bren glowed with pride at those words. He knew he'd been doing well, but hearing it like this was something else. Sneaking a look at his parents he could see they seemed pleased as well, but his father also looked... worried?

“We are certainly happy to hear that,” he said, reaching out to lay one arm around Bren's shoulders. “But... what does that mean for him?”

“Well, not much, for now,” Mr. Albrecht answered. “We will continue to teach him, under the same conditions that have applied before. I'm sure that will be in everyone's interest for now. Right, Bren?”

Not sure if he was actually supposed to say anything to that, the boy nodded. When the teacher's eyes stayed on him, he quickly added: “I like it here. It's... nice. I'm learning a lot.”

“Your Common could certainly use some work considering your skill level in other classes, but we will get there,” the man chuckled, and even though Bren knew it had been meant in a not too serious way, the sound made him uncomfortable. Also, he could read and write in Common just fine, it was the speaking part that caused him trouble. He just couldn't make the words come out right, no matter how hard he tried at times, and even though he wasn't the only one in class with a heavy accent, he was the only one constantly being reprimanded for it. Definitely not one of his favorite subjects.

He turned his eyes to the ground, and Mr. Albrecht went back to his parents again. “Nevertheless, back to the topic at hand. I think it is obvious that Bren has the potential of a very bright future ahead of him, but if you want what's best for your son, you need to start making decisions now.”

“Decisions?” his father asked, still holding Bren close. “But he is only ten, what kind of decisions could be expected at that age?”

“Well, with the abilities he's showing already, he could one day be one of the greatest assets of the Empire,” the man told his father, and by now Bren didn't feel like he was part of the conversation anymore. “As a man of the military yourself, I'm sure you have an interest in not only helping your country, but also in seeing your son succeed in bringing this great nation forward.”

His father's expression turned pained for a moment. “Please, I am just a lowly scribe at this point, but-”

“Don't sell yourself short,” he was interrupted again. “I know about your commitment to the Empire, I know what it cost you. But again, let's get back on topic. Your son.”

“Right, right.” His father turned to look at Bren, then at his mother, who gave a brief nod. “Whatever you have in mind for the boy, we would greatly appreciate any help in furthering his education. He's a bright kid, and we- well, we cannot quite keep up. But we do want what's best for him.”

“Bright, definitely. Gifted, even,” Mr. Albrecht agreed. “Which is why I have a suggestion for you. I'm sure you know of the Soltryce Academy?”

There was another moment of silence, where his parents just stared at the man in front of them. Bren could barely keep himself from asking what they were talking about, knowing that they probably wouldn't appreciate his interruption.

“In Rexxentrum?” his mother finally asked. “Of course. Are you- are you suggesting that we send him there?”

“Not now, of course,” the headmaster told her, his tone reassuring. “But we can start working towards it. He certainly has the right mind for it, and I am certain that, under the right care and tutelage, your son would thrive.”

So whatever it was, the Academy seemed like a big deal. Bren did know about Rexxentrum though, they had covered the capital of the Empire in different subjects already. He'd never even left Blumenthal until now, going to another city so far away, and apparently by himself? It sounded scary.

His father was wringing his hands now, nervously looking between everyone else in the room. “That's- quite a ways away. And even if we had a few years to start saving up money, even with a deal like the one you have offered us, I don't think we would be able to do it.”

“Let me worry about the money, I'm sure I can call in a favor or two,” the headmaster offered with a smile. And Bren wasn't sure if he liked the look on the man's face. It wasn't a nice smile, he couldn't tell what it was at all. “All you have to do is make sure to keep your son in line, and make sure he keeps up with his studies. I will try and get more private lessons for him, since he is still ahead of the other students in his class.”

His parents nodded again, still exchanging glances with each other, but Mr. Albrecht was still talking. “And there are two others students I have my eye on, who, with a bit of luck, might get the same opportunity. He will share his lessons with them, and I will make sure to get them all acquainted with each other. And if everyone puts in a bit of work, we will see where it leads us.”

“All of that sounds quite amazing,” his mother replied quietly. “Almost too good to be true.”

“No worries Mrs. Ermendrud, the Empire takes care of their own,” she was assured. “And with your son's potential, it would be a shame to not at least try.”

Bren was fifteen.

He was fifteen, it was a week before he, Astrid, and Eodwulf were supposed to leave for Rexxentrum, and he had just made a terrible mistake. Or rather more than one mistake, the entire night had been one mistake after the other if he was being honest.

A few hours ago Astrid and Wulf had shown up in front of his window with a mischievous smile and a bottle of ale each, asking him to join them in celebrating their acceptance to the Soltryce Academy. Their letters had already arrived weeks ago, but the closer they got to leaving, the more excited all of them became.

Bren hadn't even hesitated in climbing out and going with them. His parents would notice at some point, but he was sure they would understand. After all, he'd never caused any serious trouble before, never had the opportunity with the workload the school had been putting on him and the other two, so what better time time to enjoy himself a bit but now?

But really, he should have expected something to go wrong. And now, sitting in a holding cell as he slowly sobered up again, waiting for someone to pick him up, Bren really wished he could turn back time, just a little bit, and avoid this whole mess.

It was still dark outside, but he knew it was early morning when he heard keys turn in a lock down the hallway and two sets of footsteps approaching. Some kind of flickering light came closer, and finally two people stepped in front of his cell. First, the guard who had picked him up that night, holding a torch. And second was his father, arms crossed over his chest and an unreadable look on his face. One thing was for sure though, he did not look happy.

For the first time in his life, Bren felt something akin to fear as he looked at the man.

“You got lucky, son,” the guard called out, as he moved to unlock the door. “If it wasn't for yer father busting you out, you'd be sitting here a bit longer.” The man seemed awfully cheery for their situation, but maybe this was the only part of his job he actually enjoyed. Delivering delinquent teenagers to their displeased parents.

Bren didn't move. “Dad, I-”

“Not now. Let's get you home,” his father interrupted, his voice unusually cold.

Bren held his father's gaze for a moment longer before finally getting up with a shaky exhale, and walking out. The man just nodded and gestured for the guard to lead the way out again. There was no hug, no pat on the shoulder, nothing. Hell, Bren had even preferred if he'd grabbed his arm, dragged him out by the ear, something. But they walked out in silence. Before leaving the building though, the guard held out his hand towards his father.

“Not a word about this. To anyone,” Leofric muttered, before dropping a small sack in the guard's hand that was clearly filled with coins. Now Bren knew why the guy was in such a good mood, at least.

With a last look at the man, who just gave him an unabashed grin, Bren quickly followed his father outside. The few attempts he made at conversation where still shot down though, and eventually he stopped trying. By the time they got home, the first sliver of light was visible at the horizon.

“Go to your room, Bren,” his father told him, locking the door behind them as always but not looking at him. Not once, since they had left the stockades. “Get some sleep. I need to talk to your mother, she was worried sick about you, and then I have to go to work. We will talk when I get back.”

The boy didn't have it in him to protest. He hadn't slept all night, his head was starting to hurt from the alcohol, and his father's behaviour was almost worse than any outcome he had expected. So he gave a brief nod and did as he'd been told.

Despite the rising sun and the noise of a city waking up outside, he was out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

A few hours after noon, Bren finally woke up again. He still felt rather terrible, and not only because of the hangover he had, but at least the guilt got him moving. Sitting on the edge of his bed he spotted Frumpkin for the first time.

The cat was curled up on his desk, eyes open and the tail swishing from side to side as he gave him a look that could only be described as reproachful. “Oh shut it,” he muttered. “I don't need your judgement as well.”

Nevertheless he scratched the cat between the ears as he finally got up, getting a gentle purr in response, and it was enough to get him out the door and into the kitchen. If Frumpkin couldn't stay mad at him for long, surely neither would his parents.

“Mother?” he asked quietly, as he carefully opened the door and stepped inside. The woman stopped what she was doing and looked up at him, a smile washing over her face as she did. Before he could react, she was already up and had her arms around him. He was still an inch shorter than her, and his mother wasted no time in tucking him against her chest and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“You're awake. When I checked your room again last night and you were gone... I was so worried,” she whispered, and he could still hear it in the way her voice shook. Once more he berated himself for being this stupid. If nothing else, he could have at least left them a note. “And then Eodwulf and Astrid showed up in the middle of the night and-”

“Wait, they did?” he finally pulled away from her again, with a confused look. “What- did they tell you what happened?”

“Some of it,” she told him. She still had both arms on his shoulders, but also looked a lot more serious now. “I'm sure they didn't tell us everything, but at least they let us know where we could find you. Eodwulf looked so scared, I thought you got hurt at first.”

“No, no I'm fine. I promise, mom, I'm fine,” he assured her quickly, though he was sure she knew that already. “I'm just... surprised they came here. Did they go with father?”

“No, he send them straight home. Pelor knows it's enough if one of you gets in trouble,” she sighed. “And then he went to get you. He probably told you, but your father is going to... have words with you, when he gets home from work.”

“I know,” he mumbled, averting his eyes now and looking to the ground. He had an idea what she really meant with that phrasing, and for once in his life had to admit that he deserved it. “Or I expected as much. I'm so sorry, mother, I didn't mean to worry you. Either of you.”

She reached out, laying a gentle hand on his face but forcing him to look at her again. “Bren, this isn't just about scaring us. Do you understand what you could have lost tonight?”

At his lost expression she just shook her head and let go again, taking a step back. “Well, nevermind. I think it's better if you have this conversation with your father. For now, why don't you help me with preparing dinner?”

“I- yes, of course,” he replied quietly. He had so many questions now, but his mother seemed very set on not answering any, and he knew there was no sense in trying to change her mind. The two of them did fall into an easy rhythm though, and before long, dinner was done and he could hear his father's key in the door.

For an hour, they all seemed to pretend that nothing had happened. They ate together, his parents even managed some small talk about work, and afterwards his father helped with washing up. But as soon as that was done, there was a noticeable shift in the mood.

“Bren, would you go wait for me in your room please?” his father asked, a forced easiness in his voice. “I think we finally need to discuss what happened last night.”

So Bren went to his room again, sat down on his bed, and waited. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then twenty. And then he finally heard his father's footsteps approaching.

As the man stepped inside their eyes caught each other, and Bren quickly looked away in shame. He heard his father sigh, and a second later felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Son, look at me.”

Bren hesitated for another moment, but eventually lifted his head again.

“There we go. I don't like seeing you ashamed, doesn't suit you. But considering the circumstances we're in, at least you got a good reason to. Before we do this, tell me what happened.”

“Everything?”

“What do you think?”

Bren sighed, and had to remind himself once more to keep his father's gaze. “We... we just wanted to celebrate a bit, that's all.”

His father nodded and finally took a seat beside him on the bed, making it a lot easier for Bren to actually tell him the truth. Looming over him like he had been, it made him feel very small. “So you'd planned this for a while then?”

“No, not at all,” he told him. “They just showed up, and I thought what can go wrong? So I climbed out the window and joined them... they already had the ale, I'm not sure where they got it from, and we went to the old Schwarzwasser farm, knowing that no one would disturb us there.”

“Well that was obviously wrong, but continue.”

“Right. We, uh, got a little bit too drunk, I guess. And- and we started playing around with cantrips a bit, the one or two we can actually do.”

He could clearly see his father grit his teeth for a moment, before the man spoke up again. “You were playing around with magic, after your teacher has explicitly forbidden you from doing so? Several times even, if I recall correctly.”

“Well, I- I mean,” Bren was stumbling now, knowing very well there was no real way to talk himself out of this. During the last year, he and his friends had gotten access to actual spell books for the first time in their life. They'd only been allowed to copy spells, learn all the theoretical basics of magic casting, without any of the practical stuff. It had been interesting, but all three of them had quickly gotten the urge to try more.

“We did,” he finally answered with a sigh. “We knew we're not supposed to, but again, we didn't think anything could go wrong... it was just dancing lights at first, seeing who could send them out the furthest and things like that.”

“And then things started to go wrong?” his father asked.

“Pretty much. Wulf, he- I'm not sure what he was trying to do, but suddenly there was a loud noise, and some of the straw around us caught fire.” Bren stopped for a moment, as if he was realizing for the first time how much danger they'd actually been in. For drunken teenagers, they'd apparently gotten pretty lucky. “It wasn't really a big deal, we managed to put it out pretty quickly. But someone must have heard the noise and alerted the guards, because they came next.”

“And Astrid and Eodwulf were just faster than you?”

“Kind of. I told them to run ahead, and that I was going to catch up. I don't even remember what my plan was, probably something stupid, but before I could do anything they'd already caught me. And- well, that's what happened.”

His father nodded, staying quiet for a moment before he got up again and started pacing. “So let's see, breaking and entering, underage drinking, ignoring your teacher's warnings, and damage to property.” As he was talking, he was counting everything off on his fingers, and Bren gulped. “Do you want to add anything else to the list?”

“No.”

“That's what I thought.”

He stopped again, right in front of him, and motioned for him to get up. Ignoring the slight shaking in his knees, Bren did. Sure, he'd gone over his father's lap a few times, but that had been years ago. And this felt different.

But they weren't that far yet, his father kept talking. “Do you know what could have happened if I hadn't been able to pay off that guard? Do you have any idea what you put at risk last night?” he asked, his eyes growing more intense again. “You could have been charged for those things, Bren. They could have ended up on your record. Do you think the Soltryce Academy accepts students with anything less than a clean slate?”

And no, he hadn't thought about that. Not once had the thought that he could lose his scholarship, everything he'd worked for for the last five years, crossed his mind. The realisation hit him like a freight train, and all he could do was stare at his father with an open mouth.

“Yes, that's what I thought,” the man sighed, sounding deeply regretful of what came next. “I can't let you off the hook for this, Bren. You risked everything, it could have all gone down the drain, and you didn't even think about it. It's the last thing I expected from you, and I'm going to make sure you never forget again. Bend over your desk.”

Still too shell-shocked to do anything than what his father asked of him, Bren turned to his desk and leaned forward. As he rested his elbows on the steady surface, he could hear the sound of his father's belt being pulled through the loops. A moment later, a comforting hand came to rest on his back.

And then the sound of leather cutting through thin air.

Bren was sixteen.

He was sixteen, and just finishing up his first year at the Soltryce Academy. Their last exams were in less than a month, and after that he would return to Blumenthal for a two month break along with Astrid and Wulf.

They were all looking forward to it. But while Bren missed his parents now, he also knew that he would miss the Academy as soon as he was back home. Even with the stress they were under sometimes, he loved the school. It was so much better, so much more, than what any of his other schools had been able to offer him.

Right now he was sitting in the main library with his two friends, all three of them poring over century old tomes while the sun was beating down outside. They were still covering the basics of magic in their courses, and still not allowed to do much more than cantrips, but every time Bren felt that specific feeling of magic flowing through his fingertips it was like taking a breath of fresh air for the first time.

Bren was still completely engrossed in his book as, surprisingly, Astrid was the first to throw down her pen. With a loud sigh she stretched her arms over her head and leaned back in her chair.

“Alright guys, I'm done for today,” she muttered, though she wasn't packing up yet. “Anyone want to join me outside? I think we deserve a break.”

“You're done?” Wulf chuckled, at least looking up from his reading. He was twirling his pen around his fingers, something he often did to help himself concentrate. “We're not even halfway through the material that's actually relevant for next week.”

“Bren is, he can tell us anything we need to know during lunch,” Astrid joked, while gently nudging him with her elbow. “Hey, Bren, what time is it anyway?”

“Eleven forty,” he muttered as an answer, his eyes never leaving the page.

“See? So we got lunch in 20 minutes anyway, let's take a break until then,” she insisted again, starting to collect her things now. The old leather bag she always took with her around campus was already straining at the seams, and the extra notes she'd taken just this morning weren't helping with keeping everything together.

Wulf still seemed unsure on whether to follow her or not, but finally started to pack up as well. “If I fail this, I'm going to blame you,” he muttered, though his voice was too soft to be serious about it.

“Oh trust me, if we fail this, I'm gonna jump off one of the candles,” she huffed, before clapping Bren on the shoulder to get him moving as well. “Come on, nerd.”

“Don't say something like that!” Wulf protested, just as Bren looked up and realized that they were leaving. Scrambling to catch up he stuffed everything in his bag, as careful as he could, and quickly followed his now bickering friends out onto campus. As they stepped from the the stuffy, dust filled library out into the sunlight, all three seemed to take a breath of relief, and their studies seemed forgotten for a few minutes as they started making their way towards one of the gardens.

Wulf and Astrid were still talking shit beside him when Bren suddenly got the feeling of being watched. He ignored it at first, but whatever it was made the hair on the back of his neck stand up until he finally turned his head to look around. Right by the door of the library, where they had just left, he saw one of their teachers. Master Trent Ikithon.

Bren straightened his posture as he caught the man's gaze, as if on instinct, and then quickly turned around again. He hadn't told the other two, and wasn't sure if they had noticed anything themselves, but he definitely felt like Master Ikithon had been watching them for a while now. It made him nervous, not being able to tell whether that was a good or a bad thing, or what the man was looking for. Maybe they should have just stayed in the library until lunch.

But he was quickly ripped from his thoughts again when Astrid slugged him in the shoulder. “Hey, Bren, are you even listening?”

“Huh? Yeah, I mean, no... sorry. What were you saying?”

“Wulf wants to go sit by the pond, I think it's too warm. Let's sit by the willow, at least there's some shade there.”

“Uh, yeah. Willow sounds good,” he replied, giving Wulf an apologetic shrug as his friend glared at him over Astrid's shoulder. 'Sorry' he mouthed, just as Astrid grabbed both of them and dragged them over to one of her favorite spots.

As soon as the three of them sank down beneath the tree, all leaning against each other in a pile, he realised how exhausted he was. His friends didn't seem to be doing any better, and instead of going over his notes again as he'd been planning to do, he was content to doze off along with them.

For once there was nothing but peace and quiet, in the midday heat there wasn't even a single bird there to disturb them. It felt like forever until Astrid, who'd rested her head on his shoulder at some point while her legs rested in Wulf's lap, gently nudged his side again. “Hey, Bren?”

“Hmm?”

“What time is it?”

“Twelve sixteen.”

“Alright,” she mumbled, and then fell quiet again. After a second or two, she abruptly sat up. “Wait, what?! We're missing lunch!”

It took the boys a moment to catch on, but as soon as they realized what she was saying they all hurried to their feet, picked up their bags, and started running. Not that they were risking any serious trouble, but meal times at the Academy were strict enough that they didn't want to miss them, otherwise they would have to go into the city to still get something to eat. So missing lunch would, at the very least, be a waste of time and money.

They managed to get to the dining hall in time though, sweaty and a bit out of breath, but still able to sit down with everyone else and get their free meal. Trying to keep their laughter down they settled down at a table a bit further away from most of the other students, very aware that this must have been one of the more stupid reasons for being late to something. Still, better late to a meal than an actual lesson.

“Maybe we should plan in more time for a pre-lunch nap break tomorrow,” Wulf chuckled, as they had all finally calmed down a bit.

“Certainly not the worst way to end a study session,” Bren agreed with a smile, ignoring Astrid as she started to suggestively wiggle her eyebrows at them.

“Anything to get this dork out of the library for a few minutes a day,” she finally agreed, still sounding a bit too amused for Bren's taste. But before he could retaliate, he spotted another student coming their way.

He didn't recognize the girl, but she had an intense look on her face and was definitely headed for their table. She had to be at least a few grades above them, and despite the sweltering heat, was wearing the full uniform. Not even the sleeves of her coat were rolled up, which seemed weird in a room full of people who barely managed to keep their shirts on.

Bren nudged both of his friends and nodded in the girl's direction, causing them all to freeze up until she reached their table. She smiled, and came to a stop with her arms crossed behind her back.

“Astrid, Bren, Eodwulf?”

“Yes. Can we help you with anything?” Eodwulf asked, sounding honestly curious.

“Master Ikithon sends me. He would like to talk to the three of you, privately.”

So Bren hadn't imagined the whole thing. He felt a bit better now, knowing he'd been right, but that still didn't answer his question about this being a good thing or not.

“Right now?” Astrid asked, not aware of her friend's inner conflict.

“No, this evening. You're supposed to meet him in his office at eight o'clock prompt,” the girl answered. And this time she didn't wait for an answer, instead starting to walk off again immediately.

“Shit. Do you think we're in trouble?” Wulf asked, keeping his voice down now despite the fact that they were once more alone.

“I don't know, but I think Master Ikithon's been watching us for a while. Not sure what it means though,” Bren finally told them, his voice just a quiet.

Astrid gave him a confused look. “What do you mean 'watching us'? Why didn't you tell us sooner?”

Bren just shrugged and looked down on his plate, pushing his carrots around. “Wasn't sure if I'd imagined it, honestly.”

The other two didn't continue to press him, but the mood on their little table had shifted drastically. There was no more trace of their earlier joking around, instead all three quietly finished their meals and shared nervous looks with each other. Eight o'clock couldn't come fast enough.

They arrived at the office ten minutes early, just to be sure. And it wasn't like they would have been able to relax in their rooms anyway, even after their lessons and homework were done for the day. They had tried.

Wulf had been fidgeting more than usual since the “invitation”, barely able to keep still, while Bren had gone the complete opposite way and had barely said anything at all, sitting still as a statue through their last lessons. Astrid, just as nervous, had tried to keep the mood up, but soon realized it wasn't working. Eventually she'd given up and joined Bren in his silence.

Point eight, the door in front of them swung open by itself. It revealed a spacious room, every wall lined with bookshelves, a small laboratory set up in the corner, and right in the middle, a big desk. Trent Ikithon sat behind it, finishing up a last sentence with his feather before setting it down, looking up then to face them.

“Ah, you are all on time,” he greeted them, before getting up and beckoning their little group closer. Astrid was the first to step into the room, Bren and Wulf close behind as she walked up to the desk and sat down in one of the three chairs that had been placed there.

Astrid took the seat to the right, Wulf settled down to the left, and that left Bren right in the middle. He just hoped that his breathing alone wasn't enough to give away how tense he was.

“Now, I'm sure you are wondering why I called you in here. Did it come as a surprise to you?” the man asked, as they'd all finally sat down, and as he steepled his fingers in front of him. Bren wondered if it was mandatory for teachers to look absolutely terrifying as soon as they had you alone and up close.

“We- we certainly did not expect this, no,” he blurted out, when no one else seemed to answer either. “But we did notice your... attention on us, lately. Sir.”

Ikithon chuckled quietly and leaned back in his chair. “Perceptive, I like that. And it's true, I did keep an eye on the three of you for the last few weeks. With the talent your little group has displayed, since the moment you got here, it shouldn't be unexpected.”

He got up then, starting to pace behind his desk as he continued his speech. “I am not sure if you are aware, but all your teachers speak rather highly of you. You are moving through your lessons with a kind of ease that other students are not given, and while I'm sure that you still feel very much stressed with your workload, I assure you, others are doing worse.”

He stopped for a moment and gave them an amused little smile. “Most others in your year cannot afford to take a nap just before lunch, no matter how much they may want to.”

Bren's face heated up at those words, and he was sure his skin was about as red as his hair. He hadn't been aware they were being watched that closely.

“I'm very sorry, Sir. We never meant to give the impression that we were slacking off,” Astrid spoke up quietly, and while she wasn't blushing, Bren could tell she was as embarrassed as he was.

“Oh, not at all,” Ikithon assured her quickly. “What I am trying to say is, you are wasting your time at the moment. All three of you could be much further than doing measly cantrips right now, and that's why you are here. I'm going to make you an offer, one that isn't going to be easy. Quite the opposite, your life is going to become a lot harder if you accept it. Free time will most likely become a distant memory, but I promise you, it will be worth it.”

They all resisted the urge to look at each other again. “What kind of offer?” Bren finally asked.

“I will personally take over most of your tutoring,” he told them, still looming over them as he now rested his hands on the table and looked down at them. “To get you to an acceptable level you would need to loose some of your summer break, maybe return one or two weeks earlier than everyone else so we can work on a schedule that works with the rest of your studies. But I will not only make sure that you are able to learn in a pace that actually suits your abilities, you will be able to work closely with me on furthering, and pushing, our current understanding of magic. You will get access to areas of the Academy that most students are forbidden from ever entering.”

Bren felt that sinking pit in his stomach again. The one he'd felt when his headmaster, years ago, had first suggested the Soltryce Academy to him. The same feeling he'd had every time his father told him he was meant to for greater things. The feeling that meant he wasn't quite ready, but also knowing he would never be. That a plunge into cold water was sometimes the only thing that got you swimming.

“Bright minds like yours are exactly what the Empire needs these days,” Ikithon continued. “But I do not expect an answer right away. Take your exams, go home to your families. All I expect is a letter during the first two weeks of your break, so we can make sure everything can still be arranged should you agree. Any more questions?”

There was a long beat of silence, as it seemed the three teenagers dared to breath for the first time since the man had started talking. They all looked a bit insecure at the moment, Wulf visibly struggling to keep still, but finally shook their heads.

“Very well, consider yourselves dismissed then. Enjoy your evening,” they were told, just as the door opened again behind them.

Bren was seventeen.

He was seventeen, and after the last year and a half under Master Trent Ikithon's care, he was finally starting to understand his place in the world. His skill level had advanced remarkably, not only concerning spells but also certain interrogation techniques. Astrid and Wulf were doing just as well, and together, the three of them were looking at a future of bringing the Empire further than it had ever been, of revolutionizing it's understanding of what was possible within magical means.

It was everything Ikithon had promised them, and so much more. Three days a week they would leave the Academy, instead going to their Master's private estate to receive further tutelage there. And some of these days, the secrets they seeked to learn demanded sacrifice.

Today was one of them.

Bren had been called in for a solitary lesson, knowing very well that this was somewhat punishment for his lack of concentration during their last training mission. Though he already reprimanded himself for that thought. It wasn't supposed to be a punishment, he needed to get better and if this was what it took, so be it. Ikithon wanted his best, he couldn't question that.

Reaching the door to the basement he gave a rapid knock, and promptly heard it unlock beneath his fingers. Pushing it open and getting a first look at the room, he barely suppressed a groan. On a small table beside a chair were a few instruments laid out, amongst them a scalpel, some gauze, and the green crystals he was so familiar with by now.

Ikithon was there as well, greeting him with a warm smile as the door fell shut behind him. “On time as always. Take off your coat and sit down, we can begin any minute now.”

“Yes sir,” Bren replied, his voice still steady as he relaxed from the frigid pose he'd been holding with his arms crossed behind his back, to take off the red coat of his Academy uniform. He carefully folded it over and left it on the chest near the door, before striding over to sit down. Not wanting to waste any time he already rolled up his sleeves as well.

Ikithon stepped closer again, placing down a bottle of rubbing alcohol before preparing a cotton swab with it.

“Take a deep breath now, Bren. Concentrate,” he told him, his tone harder now than what the smile earlier had prepared him for. Bren closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and dug his fingernails into the arm of the chair, as the first cut was placed.

The first few times, Ikithon had made sure to tie their arms to the chair first. By now, they were expected to stay in position on their own. Handling rope only wasted time.

He couldn't see it, but even over the static noise in his ears he could hear one of the crystals being picked up. A moment later, the telltale feeling of his skin catching fire, electrified, the feeling that was usually so soothing to him, left him feeling in control, dialled up to a hundred.

He grit his teeth, but still groaned in pain as a second crystal was added. And another. And another, into the other arm this time. As they reached number five, Ikithon finally stepped away. Bren could feel the tears running down his cheeks, already finding the plain close to unbearable, but he wasn't granted much of a break.

“Open your eyes, son. Get up,” Ikithon told him, still demanding. “We are going to start with a few level one spells, see how you manage.”

So Bren opened his eyes, blinking a few times against the bright torch lights, and stumbled to his feet. He always felt like his view shifted with the crystals. Everything seemed sharper, brighter, almost pulsating. The trembling had given way to a dull thrum running throughout his body, leaving him so tense that even the gentle hand leading him into the middle of the room felt like a branding iron pressed deep into his skin.

They had never gone up to five before, he wasn't sure how long he would be able to take it. But he did his best to assume an upright posture, waiting of further instructions. As Master Ikithon had already told him, they went through some of the easier spells first.

Bren was able to go through them without much trouble. Disguise self, burning hands, silent image. Ikithon just needed to call them out, and he followed without even having to think about the actions he was performing.

But with every arcane word, every somatic component, the pain started to get worse. The crystals helped to preserve energy. If it wasn't for the pain, Bren would have been able to keep at it until night fall.

But as it was, his body started to scream for a break after less than ten minutes. He was heaving for breath, gritting his teeth again so his grunts of pain wouldn't disturb the spells.

“Please,” he whispered, not daring to look over at Master Ikithon but still asking for mercy. “I-it's too much, please.”

“Stop whining, Ermendrud,” was all he got in reply. “You're better than this, let your will override your body and show me that all this time I'm putting into you is actually worth something. Let's step it up a bit, show me... a phantom steed.”

Bren swallowed another cry of pain and assumed the proper position again. But as he raised his left arm for the right gesture, a pain so blinding shot through, from his fingertips right to his head, that all he could do was fall to his knees with a loud scream. “Please,” he started to beg, hiding his left arm under his body like a beaten dog while the other cradled his head, still nothing but white light behind his eyelids. “Please, take them out! Pelor, please, make it stop.”

“Pathetic,” he heard above him, just before he was forcefully turned on his back and Ikithon grabbed his arm. “I expected better from you, Bren.”

One after the other, the crystals were plucked out again. It left him sobbing on the floor, every stimulation still kicked into overdrive, and even as the other man retreated and he could hear the crystals clatter down on the table again, he stayed down.

“Well. That was a bit disappointing, but I guess we will have to work our way up again,” Ikithon sighed, and Bren could hear him start to clean up as he slowly started to quiet down again. “I will send someone down to... help you wash up. And don't worry, in a few months, you will all get the chance to really prove yourselves.”

Bren didn't know what that meant, and right then he didn't really care. All he wanted was for the pain to finally stop, for his senses to return back to normal, and to hopefully not see these crystals again anytime soon.

Ikithon's footsteps retreated, he heard the door shut behind him, and then he was left in the dark. Safe enough to open his eyes again. Safe enough to get his breathing back to normal.

It took exactly four minutes and thirty three seconds before he heard a new set of footsteps. Two, actually, hurrying down the stairs, pushing open the door. Coming to a stop.

“Bren?”

It was Wulf. The soft gasp behind him was Astrid.

“I'm okay,” he whispered, his voice more hoarse than he would have expected. With Wulf's help he slowly sat up, though he still winced at the gentle touch. Astrid kneeled down beside him, a fresh roll of gauze in her hands.

“Are you sure? It looks bad,” Wulf whispered, tucking Bren against his chest as Astrid got to work. “That's a lot of cuts.”

“No, no I'm fine,” Bren told them again, curling his fingers into Wulf's coat with the arm his other friend wasn't currently tending to. “I got you two, I'll be fine. I'll be fine.”

Bren was seventeen.

He was seventeen, and he lost everything in a fire of his own making.

Caleb is twenty eight.

He is twenty eight, and his life begins anew.

#critical role #caleb widogast #bren aldric ermendrud #astrid #eodwulf #trent ikithon #leofric ermendrud #caleb's mother #writing #fanfic #critical role fanfiction #mine #blumentrio #blumenthal #rexxentrum #soltryce academy

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forever-rogue · 6 years ago

Text

The Edge of Thirty - Part 5

Summary: Everyone seems to be getting married, having babies, or “growing up.” Except Y/N. Suddenly at almost thirty, reality seems to be crashing down on her – and hard. Nothing seemed as daunting as turning thirty…until she met Gwilym Lee anyway.

A/N: Hiya guys! Thanks for much all the support on this series, I really appreciate it and every single of you guys! I hope you enjoy! xx

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: some more foreshadowing (oof), very light smut

MASTERLIST

"And that my little love bugs is why recycling -" Y/N stopped mid-sentence as a knock came at her door. She turned to look at her students, giving them a wide eyed grin, before putting a finger to her lips, and heading to the door. She had a feeling she knew exactly who it was. She calmed herself for a moment, smoothing her dress before opening the door and coming face to face with a stout, mustached man who immediately gave her the once over.

"Miss L/N?" so much for a good morning or any sort of proper greeting. Trying to hide her discontent, Y/N plastered on a big smile while she bobbed her head up and down in confirmation. The man gave her a disdainful look that spoke volumes: he was already predisposed to not liking her. Clearing his throat he mustered out, "my name is Victor Redson, I'm here to sit in on your class. I believe Headmaster Crickle informed you that I was coming?"

"Of course, please do come in Mr. Redson," she would have loved nothing more than to smack him across the face, but stayed her hand. Otherwise she'd probably never find another job anywhere in England. Instead, she pulled the door wide open and allowed him in, "class, this is Mr. Redson, he's going to be joining us today. What do we say to visitors?"

"Good morning, Mr. Redson," they chorused at the man, curious looks on their little faces, as he clambered in and took a seat in the back of the room. A few of them giggled eagerly, trying to get a better look at their intruder, but Y/N tried to avoid his piercing gaze. All she had to do was keep herself calm and composed and she would be fine. Easy peasy lemon squeezy, she reminded herself. She was a good teacher after all, she just needed him to realize that.

"Miss L/N," he took out a notepad and pen and leaned back in the chair. He had an air about him that she didn't quite like. A sort of superior air that suggested he clearly thought he was superior to her. There was something about him that she couldn't quite place. She didn't like him already, that much she knew, "please carry on and conduct your class as your normally would. Pretend I'm not here."

"Of course," she gave him a smile, before turning to sit on the edge of her desk. Part of her felt like she should change her ways for the day, basically embody the picture of perfection, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She'd never allow herself to change for anyone, including an old man bent on bring her down. It was going to her way or no way.

She reached for the book and she had started reading with them and beckoned for them to do the same. The sound of all her little students pulling out their own copies was like music to her ears, "now. Turn to where we left off...I believe page three hundred ninety four."

Surprisingly, the day went by without a hitch. It was as if something in the universe had gone right and the fates were in her favor. Her students must have sensed that she was nervous, or something odd was up because they behaved much better than they ever had before. Not that they were a particularly rowdy bunch in the first place, but they were just extra sweet today. Especially her little group of favourites - Jenny, Brian, and Johnnie.

By the time the end of the day rolled around, she was sure she was safe and even Crickle would be impressed. It seemed like it was easier to breathe suddenly, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. For once, things finally seemed to be going right - she and Ben had made up, she felt confident at work, and she had that blissful newness that was Gwil.

It had only been a few weeks since they had first met, but those few weeks had been, to put it simply, amazing. Gwil had turned out to be the epitome of the perfect man and she often wondered if he was actually real and not just a figment of her imagination.

Packing up her things for the day, Jenny was going on about how excited she was that her Uncle Gwil was picking her up again. He'd, very sneakily, made it a point to start picking her up whenever his schedule had allowed, claiming it was all to spend to time with his favorite niece and to help his brother out.

A very doting uncle indeed she had told him, but she knew he enjoyed the added benefits of getting to her almost everyday. If he was feeling really confident, he’d even sneak her a few flowers, which she kept displayed in a vase on her desk.

"Hey Jenny," he said as he leaned in the doorway, beaming down at the little girl who immediately ran over to hug him. He picked her up and gave her a big kiss, as she giggled in his arms, “did you have a good day? Where you good for Y/N - I mean Miss L/N?”

“Yes, Uncle Gwil,” she promised him, “we had a visitor today so were all on our best behavior!”

“Good girl,” he smiled as he set her back down. Y/N looked at him with a smirk as she mouth nice save at him. Needless to say, they hadn’t told Jenny they had been seeing each other. Not that they were trying to hide it necessarily, but they didn’t need her telling everyone and having a certain someone find out. That was more drama that was not needed, “Jenny, why don’t you say goodbye to your friends, and I’ll come get you in a few minutes.”

“Okay, Uncle Gwil,” she grabbed her backpack and lunchbox before running out of the room to meet her friends on the playground. She paused when she got to the door, stopping to wave at Y/N, “bye Miss L/N, have a great day!”

“Bye, love bug!” she waved at her as Gwil walked over to her, making sure Jenny was out of sight before leaning down and kissing Y/N gently. She smiled into the kiss, reaching up and putting her hands on his shoulders, “hello to you too tree boy, someone’s eager for a kiss this afternoon.”

“Missed you,” he said as he snuck in a quick peck before leaning against the desk next to her. She let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and snort, as she often did when she was completely comfortable around someone. It had quickly become one of his favourite sounds.

“Gwil, you saw me last night,” she joked as she nudged him gently in the ribs, “and this morning when I left your place for work. It’s been like...maybe ten hours.”

“I don’t care,” he insisted, as she moved in front of him, stepping into the space between his legs as he wrapped his long arms around her, “still missed you, love.”

“You’re too much of a romantic to be real,” she whispered as she nuzzled her face into his chest, the now familiar smell invading her senses. He always smelled so good - clean and fresh, mixed with his natural musk, “are you just gonna hug me, or are you gonna kiss me properly? We’ve only got a few minutes before Jenny will get suspicious.”

“I guess I’ll kiss you properly, just to give you a little something to remember me by,” he put his hands on the sides of her face, running his thumb along her cheekbone. She smiled at him as she studied his brilliant cerulean eyes, as he gently pressed his lips onto hers, the kiss soft but meaningful.

She didn’t know if it had been thirty seconds or thirty minutes since Gwil had started kissing her, but they were suddenly interrupted by a loud knock on her door frame, followed by a throat clear. Y/N almost jumped back from Gwil, cursing herself for not remembering to close and lock her door. Turning to face the intruder, her heart dropped into her stomach when she saw Redson, flanked by Crickle standing there, staring at the two of them.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything, Miss L/N,” Crickle commented dryly, looking back and forth between the two of them. She could feel that her cheeks were red hot, but did her best to remain composed, “I can come back another time?”

“No, sir, of course. He was just umm, leaving,” Y/N hastily pushed him towards the door, refusing to make eye contact or prolonging the awkward interaction any longer. This was bad, this was real bad.

“Mr. Lee, was it? You’re Jenny’s uncle, aren’t?” of course Crickle wouldn’t just let him get away. Of course he knew exactly who he was. Just as quickly as the fates had decided to be kind to her, it all got ripped out from under her feet. Gwil stopped in his tracks, giving him a tight lipped smile and wondered whether he should lie or not. Instead he gave him a slight nod.

“Indeed,” he said shortly, trying his best to shimmy out the door, “if you’ll excuse me, I need to get going, have my own class to teach soon.”

“Good day, Mr. Lee,” he raised an eyebrow at him, refused to say anything else, zoning back in on Y/N. She bit the inside of her cheek so hard she could taste the metallic flavor of blood, “Ms. L/N, I was on my way to give you a bit of a congratulations. It appears Mr. Redson here was quite impressed by how you handled your class.”

“Thank you, sir, it means a lot-”

“But I wasn’t aware you were in a relationship with an immediate family member of one of your students,” he peered down his glasses at her, and she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Her worst fears seemed to be coming true.

“I’m not,” she lied hoping to be at least somewhat convincing. The look he gave her suggested that he in no way believed her. She had to be quick on her toes and stay one step ahead of him, otherwise it could all come crashing down around her.

“Oh, was that not what we happened upon-”

“No, it was nothing. A few moments of indiscretion, I assure you, Headmaster,” lying through gritted teeth, she realized how much she hated those words. But right now, she wasn’t about to lose her job over a quick make out session gone wrong because neither of them had thought to shut the door, “I apologize for the...scene I seem to have caused, but I assure you it’ll never happen again. I take my job more seriously than to put it in jeopardy over a mistake. It was a temporary loss of reason, please forgive me.”

Gwil stood in the hallway, listening to their exchange with baited breath. He wasn’t sure what he had expected her to say, but the words still stung a little bit. Hearing her deny their relationship made it feel sneaky and inappropriate, when it reality it was neither -they weren’t some sort of love-struck teenagers running around behind their parents’ backs after all. He also knew that she was under strict scrutiny at the moment, but her snappy response and calling it a mistake still felt him feeling uneasy.

Sighing to himself, he stepped away to round up Jenny and drop her off at home before going to teach his late afternoon class. It was his last class of the week, and Friday had come at last at the end of another long week and right now he wanted nothing more than a good drink and a quiet night in.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Crickle furrowed his brows at her, as Y/N gave him a thankful nod, “I’ll go over your assessment in more depth in the following week, and then we can discuss it one on one. Keep your afternoons clear next week, Miss L/N.”

“Yes, Headmaster,” trying her best to maintain a smile as the two men left, she quickly closed the door behind them and locked it. Letting a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, she yanked her phone out of her desk drawer and typed out a message to Gwil.

Sorry about all that. Guess we need to be more careful from now on!

It was an agonizing few minutes as she anticipated his response. When it finally came it was short, and rather out of character for him.

No worries. See you tomorrow.

Frowning at her phone, namely his response, she decided not to text him back just yet, and put her phone in her bag, getting ready to head home for the day. At least she had dinner with Ben, Becca, and Lucy to look forward. It had been a long week, and she was more excited than anything to see her friends again. It would be just the four of them, no significant others included. Just like the olden days.

“Can you believe it’s only ten more days until your wedding?!” Becca asked excitedly, gripping onto Lucy’s arm. The look on Lucy’s face suggested she was anything but excited, nervous more like, a worried expression in her soft eyes. In all honesty, Y/N had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts and life lately that she had almost forgotten about the wedding. She made a mental note to triple check to confirm that it was on her calendar. She wouldn’t survive the day if she missed her best friend’s wedding, and she was not willing to take chances.

“Is it too late to get cold feet?” she laughed, glancing anxiously at her best friends. Ben and Y/N exchanged amused looks with their eyebrows raised before shaking their heads at her. She groaned lightly and reached for her wine glass, downing the rest of it in one big gulp.

“Jesus, Luce, slow down or we’re going to have to carry you home!” Y/N knew Lucy was a lightweight and it didn’t take much to get her drunk, and although she was a hysterical drunk, now probably wasn’t the time, “I doubt Rami wants to babysit tonight, isn’t he out with Joe and Tessa?”

“I’m just so...I don’t even know how to describe the feeling,” she stated, flailing her arms in the air in search of the right words to use, “I love Rami, so much, truly, but the whole planning and actually getting married is scarier than I thought! But it’ll be worth it though, I know it. Y/N...did you feel similar when you and James-”

“Yes,” she cut her off quickly, averting her eyes to the floor. The question had caught her so off guard and left her feeling sad and vulnerable, her eyes almost immediately stinging with tears. She knew Lucy hadn’t meant any harm by her simple question, but it had become a bit of an unspoken rule to not discuss such matters. The subject of James was supposed to remain off limits. Ben reached over and squeezed her leg reassuringly, and she just rested her hand on top of his.

“Y/N,” he interjected before Lucy could continue on, Becca looking away awkwardly as she remained oblivious, “is your new boyfriend, who you’ve kept hidden from us, going to be your plus one to the wedding?”

“Umm,” Y/N almost choked on the bite she was halfway through chewing as all eyes were suddenly on her. The idea hadn’t even crossed her mind - she had been so wrapped up in Gwil that she forgot about everything else. It was all so fresh and new that introducing him to everyone was at the back of her mind. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “he’s not my boyfriend.”

“He’s not your boyfriend? We’ve seen to be quite taken with this Gwilym for someone who’s not your boyfriend,” Ben raised an eyebrow suspiciously at her and she just shrugged, “you’ve spent a lot of time with him.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged wishing everyone would just go back to eating and focusing their attention their meals instead of grilling her, “it’s been fun, but I’m not going to call it anything it isn’t.”

“Does he know you feel this way?” Becca asked gently, trying not to push Y/N too far, knowing that her dating life was sometimes a volatile conversation. Looking over at her briefly, she opened and closed her a mouth a few times, trying to find the right words, “I’m not trying to be mean, love, and don’t take it that way. I just want to make sure you’re the on the same page. It seems like he’s pretty smitten with you.”

“We’re both adults, I’m sure he knows I feel. It’s not like we made some sort of promise to be exclusive or anything, besides we’re allowed to have a little fun,” she was quick to play off her friends’ concerns, knowing she sounded like she always had. It was just fun - nothing serious, just like every fling past James.

“Babe, you...just make sure he knows how you really feel,” Ben said quietly, and she just nodded at him, “because if he cares about you how much you seem to care about him, then he wants to be serious with you.”

“Look, I appreciate all your concern guys, I really do, but I’m sure he knows what we are. We aren’t official or anything, and I’m sure he knows that. We started off as a one night stand, did either of us expect it to really work out?” Y/N mused out loud, more for herself than the others.

She really, really did like Gwil. There was no doubt about it that he made her heart go pitter-patter and she was also so whipped for him - but where did that leave them? Were they actually going to do this and be serious with one another? She tried to picture herself waking up everyday next to Gwil; it was an easy answer - yes. But in her heart of hearts she knew she was scared, terrified even, of anything more serious than the occasional fling. The idea of more heartbreak and possibly going through another major loss was almost too much to bear, and it seemed safer to keep people at a distance. Walls up meant you were safe, walls down left you defenseless and vulnerable.

But what about Gwil? Where did that leave him. She cared him about, more than just in a he’s hot and amazing in bed sort of way.

“It’s okay to let people in, Y/N,” Lucy said gently, reaching across the table and giving her hand a gentle pat, “besides, it seems to have been going well. Don’t push him away just because it’s a little scary.”

“I won’t mess this one up, you guys,” she played them off with a light smile and a chuckle that sounded just a little too forced, “if something’s meant to be with Gwil and myself will happen. I swear it.”

“Soooo, he’ll be your plus one?” Becca teased, nudging her foot gently with her own, bringing a real smile to her face. Not matter how much they argued or disagreed on things, her friends always had her back. It didn’t always feel like it, but she knew it was true. Almost twenty years of friendship wasn’t something that just went down on the drain.

“You lot are the worst, just so you all know,” Y/N grabbed her wine glass and raised it in a mock salute, “but yes, I’ll ask him if he’ll be my date and then you can all meet him and have him heading for the hills!”

“We would never,” Becca swore, “we love a tall, sexy English literature professor. We could always use some more eye candy - no offense to you or the guys, Benny.”

“None taken,” he jokingly pouted, causing them all to laugh, “we’ll just have to see exactly how good looking he is.”

“Really, guys?” Y/N sighed lightly, shaking her head with an amused grin on her face, “the absolute worst!”

Trying to catch her breath as she leaned down to press a kiss to Gwil’s lips, she noticed he seemed slightly off. Normally he’d touch her face, whispering all sorts of sweet nothings in her ear, showering her in kisses. Not tonight though, he remained stagnant, no visible signs of emotion on his face. Y/N let out a tiny sigh, sliding off of him and heading to bathroom to grab a washcloth to clean herself off. Normally Gwil would take that duty, making sure she was properly looked after they both reached their highs.

“Gwil?” she asked quietly, sliding back into her bed and lying next to him, keeping a small distance between their warm bodies. He made a noncommittal sound, but didn’t roll over to look at her, staring at the ceiling instead, “what’s wrong, bub? Are you even here with me?”

“I’m here,” he responded after a few tense moments of silence. A small sense of relief flooded her veins as she rolled over to study his profile. Even in the pale moonlight, he was more handsome than anyone should have been allowed to be. His eyes were wide open, and unflinching, his chest rising and falling slowly. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head as a million thoughts seemed to race through his mind.

“Then why won’t you look at me?” she asked, resting her head on the pillow and reaching over, tracing aimless shapes over his bare chest. He reached over and grabbed her hand, putting a stop to her actions, rolling over slowly to look at her. She would be lying if she said it hadn’t hurt her feelings a little bit, “Gwil?”

“Have you thought I was a mistake this whole time?” he asked suddenly, and a look of confusion crossed her face. She didn’t know where he had even gotten the notion from; it wasn’t like he was there during dinner with her friends, “I heard you talking to the Headmaster yesterday. A mistake and a moment of indiscretion, I believe you called it.”

“Oh...I didn’t know you were listening,” she cringed lightly, realizing what she had said was pretty damning. He looked at her, a concerned look on his handsome face, “Gwil, no, bub, please that didn’t mean anything. It was all just talk.”

“Oh?” he echoed her earlier words, seemingly unconvinced by her words, “because I’m not going to waste my time if you don’t want me. I’m too old for that, and I don’t care for it. I want to be with you, Y/N, and entails telling people we’re dating, going out and living our life as a normal couple.”

“You do?” she asked in a small voice as he nodded at her, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. There it was, her insecurities peeking through again, making her want to run away and hide. That was a commitment, a serious commitment, “I just I told Crickle that because I don’t need him to have another reason to fire me. I’m on thin enough ice as it is, and it’s barely beginning to thaw. I need to keep him on my good side.”

“I know...” he realized she was right, her job was important to her, “I understand, it was just...a bit harsh to hear. Perhaps my ego’s too soft.”

“Trust me, Gwilym Lee, I really care for you,” she confessed, her heart starting to thump wildly in her chest. It made her nervous to say the words out, like he could so easily just reject her, but he didn’t. He was choosing her, “I’m not going to lie and say this isn’t scary for me, but...just be patient with me, yeah?”

“I will. love,” he reached over and stroked her cheek gently, “I’ll have you know, I care very deeply for you too. But, that does lead me to my next question - will you be my girlfriend? Officially? So we can go on and be a normal couple?”

“Yes,” the word rolled off her tongue more easily than she had originally anticipated. It was easy, so easy saying yes to him and having no reservations. Calling the tall lanky tree that was Gwilym Lee her boyfriend seemed pretty good to her, “I’ll be your girlfriend, you big dork. But I have a question for you too...”

“Wow, things really are getting serious, aren’t they?” he joked, letting his hand drift down her bare body, pushing the covers back as he ghosted his fingers over her supple flesh, “look at us, in bed, discussing serious things. Just like a real couple.”

“I don’t know how serious my question actually is,” she laughed lightly, the way he was studying her was not lost on her. He smirked at her, one eyebrow cocked, “Lucy and Rami’s wedding is next weekend. Will you be my date?”

“Isn’t that kind of assumed?” he teased, slowly pulling her closer to him, soon leaving a bit of space between their bodies, “besides I want to meet your friends. I’m sure they’ve got plenty of good stories to tell. And I’ve got a new suit to break in.”

“They’re dying to meet you,” she agreed, the idea of him in a new suit caused tingles to shoot through her body. She wondered who gave him the right to look that good in a suit, casual tshirt and jeans, and naked. It simply wasn’t fair. But for some reason, he had chosen her, and she wasn’t about to argue with that, “they probably think I’m making you up.”

“I can assure, love, I’m real,” he whispered, nuzzling his nose against hers, pressing a few lazily kisses to her face as his hand drifted lower and lower before settling just above her hips, “I’m sorry for acting like an arse.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said as she placed a hand on his chest, “‘s okay. We’re here now, together, and that’s what matters.”

“Let me make it up to you,” he said in a suggestive manner and she almost moaned at the tone of his voice. It was so smooth, so perfect, and lusty, “you did all the work earlier. Let me take care of you properly.”

“Gwil,” she breathed out as he pulled back from her, sliding down the bed and slowly spreading her legs. She bit her lip, trying to hold back her whimpers as he kissed along her thighs, stopping when he reached their apex, “you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he insisted, shooting her a wink, “let me love you, Y/N. Let me be the one to take care of you.”

“Okay,” was all she managed to squeak out before his disappeared between her legs, her hands balling up in the sheets almost immediately. She tried to keep her mind quiet and to enjoy the pleasure, but, of course, it wasn’t meant to be. A slight sense of panic set in - she had just agreed to be someone’s girlfriend. It was scary, she knew, she hadn’t been anyone’s girlfriend in years, and for good reason.

But here she was, lying in bed with the most handsome of men between her legs telling her he wanted to her. And she was having second thoughts, all because of her own trepidation. If only life was as easy as the movies made it appear.

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isidar-mithrim · 5 years ago

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{Once again, Albus Dumbledore changed the course of Remus Lupin’s life when he tracked him down to a tumbledown, semi-derelict cottage in Yorkshire. Delighted to see the Headmaster, Remus was amazed when Dumbledore offered him the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. He was only persuaded to accept when Dumbledore explained that there would be a limitless supply of Wolfsbane Potion, courtesy of the Potions master, Severus Snape. – Pottermore}

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Note on the story: I was planning to translate other works before this one, but then the amazing FloreatCastellum wrote a piece about Remus meeting Harry on the Hogwarts Express and I felt eager to share this story first ^^ The last bit is an addition to the translation that was inspired by her work!

Ps: a little heads up – if you’re expecting a fluffy, sappy meeting, you’ll probably be disappointed ^^’ I guess this is a slightly ‘unorthodox’ version of the moment, but there’s a reason for it: I started writing it before Remus biography was released on Pottermore, and I didn’t feel that I could give up on certain aspects of the story that I had grown fond of. I’d still say it’s enough pottermore-canon-compliant, and I promise it’s books-canon-compliants ^^

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Bounty hunter

It was a chill summer evening when Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Appeared before the gate of a tumbledown cottage that stood out in Yorkshire open country.

Only the rays of the waning moon enlightened the cobble path which led to the door of the shack, but it was enough to step forward with sure-footedness.

Albus Dumbledore pushed the rusty gate inward, making it screech at his touch, then he walked the short path and lowered his fist on the worn wooden door.

A few minutes later he had received no answer, so he knocked again, this time amplifying the noise with a bit of magic.

He had to wait only a bunch of seconds before the door slammed open.

On the threshold there was a man as worn as his home – his eyes marked by dark circles, his clothes ratty and old, his breath short to betray the sudden sprint he must have made to dart at the door.

Yet, the hand that held the wand against Albus Dumbledore was steady, sure, ready.

The Headmaster smiled serenely, looking at him with his piercing blue eyes.

“Remus. What a pleasure to see you,” he said, his gaze shifting to the still raised wand. “I suppose you weren’t expecting my visit.”

The man kept glaring at him. “I thought I’d done a better job with the defenses around the house,” he said sharply. “I haven’t heard you coming.”

“Oh, they are excellent defenses, but I still remember some old tricks, despite the advancing years,” said the Headmaster with glee. “Now, I’m desolate to bother you at this late hour, but there are several topics I would like to discuss with you, if you would be so kind as to invite me in.”

“You know perfectly well I won’t let you in until you’ve proven to me it’s really you, Dumbledore, even if I really wish you’re the only person capable of getting past my defenses without leaving a single trace.”

“Very well, very well,” nodded Albus Dumbledore, smiling gently. “I am pleased to see you haven’t lost your old and healthy habits toward prudence.”

The ancient wizard drew his wand, summoning his Patronus non verbally. A silver phoenix rose majestically in the night, then vanished in a burst of white flames. The Headmaster looked back at the younger man just in time to see a silver wolf running away and vanishing into thin air.

The man lowered his wand, stowing it behind his shabby robes, and he finally let a smile crease his lips.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here, considering the last news,” he said to the Headmaster, stepping aside to let him in.

The inside of the cottage was semi-derelict as the outside had promised.

Except for the bathroom, whose yellowish sink could be glimpsed behind the door left ajar, the house consisted in a single room.

The furniture was reduced to the essential – a bed, a small wardrobe, a table with two chairs – and eaten by woodworms, but overall the space would have seemed clean, if it weren’t for the chaos that ruled.

The table was doused in crumbled newspapers and tore magazines; in most of them Sirius Black’s moving picture stood out on the front page, while others had been flipped through to highlight related news.

On the bed, frayed clothes laid messily near an old suitcase that just waited to be packed, and close by were stored several low-quality magical objects and ingredients, such as a Sneakoscope and potion ivy leaves.

On the shelf above the fireplace there was a small stock of food, a tiny pot half-filled with Floo Powder, and an old radio.

It was the house of a lonely, poor man – a man ready to leave.

The Headmaster looked around while he approached the chair he was offered. Dumbledore thanked amiably for the courtesy and sat down, but Remus stayed up and hastily collected the newspapers on a corner of the table. He then made the water in the kettle boil with a wave of his wand, poured the hot water in two mugs and put a teabag in each one.

When he sat down, Dumbledore simply stared at him through his half-moon spectacles for a while. Remus held his gaze, and eventually Dumbledore let his eyes wander again around the cottage. When he spoke, he did it with the cheerful tone of someone who is complimenting the colour of the curtains.

“I see you are about to leave, Remus.”

“It doesn’t take your keen intuition to guess that much.”

“Oh, it does not indeed,” said Dumbledore, smiling. “But I believe it is the where and the why the most intriguing part of the matter.”

Remus huffed. “As if it isn’t obvious as well.”

Dumbledore ignored the retort and serenely picked one of the magazines, which titled Sirius Black affected by Stockholm Syndrome?

“Obvious?” he asked, flicking through the pages of the Quibbler before looking Remus in the eyes yet again. “What it is obvious is that in front of me sits a capable, fair and talented wizard that in the past years had very few occasions to prove his worth. A wizard that has lived alone for too long, but has finally found the strength to get out and put his skills at use.”

Remus smiled coyly. He didn’t receive compliments very often, and they pleased him more than he was willing to admit.

“And yet, I wonder…” resumed Dumbledore, “is he truly driven by his noble ideals?”

The Headmaster rummaged around the newspapers, picked a front page with a big picture and stretched it out on the table: Sirius Black had a gaunt face and circled eyes, but he looked at them with a determinate gaze.

“I wonder… what lie convinced this talented wizard that it was right to track Sirius Black down?”

Remus frowned at him, clenching his jaw, but Dumbledore kept speaking, nonplussed.

“Has he told himself it is his moral obligation to capture Black because who, if not him, would be able to understand his moves – to anticipate them, even? Or has he told himself that becoming a bounty hunter he may finally be able to make a living?”

The Headmaster was perfectly calm, but Remus was fuming. How dared Dumbledore judging him?

“Do you doubt I’d be able to find him?” he asked with a harsh tone.

“Of course not, my dear Remus!” said Dumbledore with an amused smile that irritated Remus even more.

“Then you’ll see how catching him is my right and my responsibility,” he said through gritted teeth. “Not to mention that I’d finally have a purpose that would make my useless life a bit less useless, for a change.”

“That would be a very noble purpose indeed, but I believe that if you really felt obligated to help catch him, you would not be here making arrangements – no, you would have already used that bit of Floo Powder you have left to go to the Ministry and tell them everything you know.”

“Pity that the Ministry isn’t interested in tagging along with werewolves,” spat out Remus with resentment.

“I fear this is one of the several lies you are telling yourself, Remus,” said Dumbledore gravely, like if he was giving him an unpleasant diagnosis. “You know perfectly well they would be ready to cooperate with you, in order to put behind bars the first wizard that has ever escaped from Azkaban.”

“Well, let’s hear what this great truth would be, then, since I’m apparently full of rubbish!”

“Oh, the truth is very simple, I am afraid. You want to look for him on your own because you do not want to capture him.”

Remus couldn’t believe his own ears. “No, no, you’re right, I don’t want to catch the man who betrayed and killed my best friends, and who also happens to be Voldemort’s right hand and one of the most powerful and dangerous wizards around,” he said with bitter sarcasm.

“No, you don’t want to catch him.” Dumbledore took a deep breath. “You want to kill him. Stop lying to yourself, Remus. We know perfectly well it is not the moral obligation nor the money to drive you. It is a blind, insatiable desire for revenge.”

The Headmaster had struck a nerve, and Remus felt exposed in a way that put him on the defense. “And what if I do?” he asked harshly. “Not even you, with all your high-sounding names, can dare to come here and blame me. Especially not you, since you know perfectly well how deeply Black ruined my life, and not just mine.”

“I totally agree with you.”

Remus widened his eyes, dumbfounded. He had expected Dumbledore to try to dissuade him, to lecture him… not to cheerfully agree.

“It happens, in fact,” continued Dumbledore with a seraphic smile, “that I am not here to blame you. I am here to offer you an alternative, one that all things considered could… how did you put it? Make your useless life a bit less useless, I believe. One that, all things considered, only I and my high-sounding names can offer. And now, if you would be so kind as to listen to this old wizard a little longer, I will gladly discuss it in front of that cup of tea that I would serve before it gets cold, if I were you.”

Remus sent an inquisitive glance at Dumbledore, eager to find out what this was all about, but the Headmaster kept smiling seraphically, not giving anything away, so he stood up, brought the mugs to the table and grabbed a bowl of sugar from the shelf with the stocked food.

“I’ve got no milk,” he said with an apologetic shrug. “And only one teaspoon. How much sugar do you want?”

“Three, if you please. I’m afraid I can’t help indulging my sweet tooth, despite all Madam Pomfrey’s recommendations,” said Dumbledore with a wink.

They sat quietly for a bit, sipping their mildly warm and probably too strong tea.

It was Remus who broke the silence, too curious to wait much longer. “I’m listening.”

Dumbledore put his cup down and fixed him with his penetrating blue eyes. “You have to know, dear Remus, that for the last few decades two have been the worries that trouble me before the new term begins. The first is if someone will finally get me a pair of wool socks for my birthday, instead of the usual, overvalued books,” said Dumbledore with amusement. If Remus hadn’t known him well enough, he would have thought he was nuts. “The second is if this year I will finally have a Defence Against the Dark Art professor actually capable of teaching something to my students – provided that I have one in the first place. Now, I already know there is no hope about my first concern, but I am here to find out if I can sort out the second one.”

Remus’s hearts hammered at the Headmaster’s words, but he didn’t dare take them for granted. “You... are you offering me a job at Hogwarts?”

“Absolutely,” said Dumbledore with delight. “Between us, I am quite proud of my choice. I could have hardly thought of a more fitting candidate.”

“Are you kidding?”

The Headmaster smiled brightly. “Not at all. Of course that would mean you will have to give up your little... hunt, to move at Hogwarts on a permanent basis.”

“Teaching at Hogwarts…” murmured Remus, all the arrangements to leave suddenly meaningless. Could he really do that? It seemed crazy and too good to be true at the same time… It would be the best thing that happened to him in more than a decade… It would be a dream...

“I promise the castle is as welcoming as it has always been, at least until you run into Peeves,” said the Headmaster, clearly enjoying himself.

But Remus couldn’t share Dumbledore’s amusement, because he had just remembered the reason he had always struggled so much to find or keep a decent job – or any job at all, actually.

Was he supposed to transform in the Shrieking Shack? He felt an unpleasant lurch at the mere idea… The last time it had happened, he had had his friends beside him, and the idea of being there without them was painful and terrifying at the same time.

And there was the fact that when he had been a student not everybody had noticed his absences, but as a teacher all the school would have: students were meant to find out, eventually, and the Shack wasn’t even that safe, was it? He had been followed once, so it could happen again…

He swallowed. “What about the full moon?”

“Oh, I am very glad you brought it up, my dear Remus,” said Dumbledore with a pleased smile. “I should have mentioned right away that one of our teachers happens to be able to brew a perfect Wolfsbane Potion, and the school is willing to bear all the costs.”

Remus felt his eyes prickling at the unbelievable news; he blinked hastily, trying to maintain his composure. The Wolfsbane Potion… Merlin, he would be willing to work for free in exchange for a hot meal per day, a proper roof upon his head and a painless transformation.

A moment later he realised which teacher Dumbledore was referring to, and he almost choked on his tea.

“Snape?” he asked, loudlier than he intended. “You want me to drink a potion brewed by Snape?”

“I have complete faith in the goodwill of all my teachers and absolute trust in the talent of some. Severus is among them,” stated Dumbledore, looking truly serious for the first time.

Remus wasn’t very convinced by those words, and from Dumbledore’s look, he knew he wasn’t doing a great job of hiding it.

The Headmaster sighed. “Dark times await us,” he said, concerned. “With Voldemort who I am afraid soon or later will be back and Sirius on the run, Merlin knows how much Harry needs a professor capable of actually teaching him how to defend himself…”

Remus’s eyes widened upon hearing Harry’s name, his heart beating fast yet again. “Do you think… do you think Sirius will look for him?”

“As a matter of fact, I would be surprised if he will not, and I am quite baffled that you had not thought of it, being so determined to catch him.”

Remus could see how silly he had been, now. “I thought he’d be on the track of what’s left of Voldemort,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Oh, I do not doubt that this is one of his next goals, but I will not deny that I would sleep more peacefully knowing I have a trusted man at Hogwarts – one that knows the castle as well as Black, and Black better than anybody else.”

“What’s he like?”

“I should be the one asking you that,” said Dumbledore with amusement.

“I meant… Harry,” specified Remus, despite being sure that Dumbledore knew perfectly well who he was referring to.

“Why ask me when you have the chance to see it with your own eyes?”

Dumbledore put his mug down and smiled kindly before checking his unintelligible watch. “It is running quite late, I am afraid. I am sorry for taking so much of your time. If you are not interested, I will look for another candidate, but it has been a pleasure to s–”

“All right.”

“All right, what?” asked Dumbledore with a knowing smile.

Remus rolled his eyes. “All right, I’ll teach at Hogwarts. But only for this year, giving the circumstances,” he added on a second though. He would love to teach there forever, but he didn’t want to delude himself about it – he had been burned too often to fall in that trap once more.

“Wonderful!” Dumbledore exclaimed cheerfully, clapping his hands. “I will see you on the first of September, then.”

“Yeah… see you on the first.”

Dumbledore had already stood when Remus gave in to the temptation of asking for more. “Hagrid says he looks exactly like James.”

The Headmaster smiled softly. “He does… except for his eyes.”

Remus nodded. He remembered that. “He has Lily’s eyes.”

“He does indeed.”

Finally, Remus was smiling as well.

#fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #one shot #flash fic #missing scene #canon compliant #pottermore #albus dumbledore #remus lupin #harry potter #sirius black #werewolf #hiring #defence against the dark arts #teachers #translation #long post

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mllemaenad · 6 years ago

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Not your final exam: The Harrowing

Okay then: to prove I’m not dead. I am, however, without my sources. So I need to do this with alternate references.

I’ve talked, previously, about Tranquillity. About what it is and what it’s for. But what about the other side of that terrible choice young mages are asked to make? What about the Harrowing?

When people talk about abolishing the Circles, one not-uncommon rebuttal is that Circles are needed to train young mages. Without education mages may be dangerous: they may misuse their magic; they may lose control of it; worst of all, they may become possessed.

The answer to this, generally, is that no one said that the educational system for mages should be abolished. Rather that the Circles are too tainted, too abusive, too tightly controlled by the Templars and the Chantry to be entrusted with this task.

That’s a good answer. But it’s not, I think, the whole answer. It’s an answer that sort of misses the point of the problem. Which is this: Circles are not schools; they are not fundamentally designed to teach magical proficiency, to make mages productive members of society, or to determine that they are unlikely to be possessed by demons. At times, yes, they may accomplish these things incidentally, just as Templars may incidentally apprehend a genuine maleficar. But that is what they are for.

1) What the fuck is does the Harrowing do for mages?

Let’s talk about Harry Potter again for a minute. I know I use that one a lot, but it’s a good, broad example. Hogwarts is a school: it may well be a screwed up school with a headmaster who makes questionable staffing decisions, but its goal is to educate young witches and wizards. Hogwarts has two important sets of examinations: the OWLS and the NEWTS. You take your OWLS in your fifth year and your NEWTS in your seventh. Your OWL scores determine the NEWT subjects you can take, and the NEWT courses represent more advanced courses of study. You may leave school after you take your OWLS and will leave after you take your NEWTS. In either case, you may present your scores to prospective employers as part of your resume.

This is all very familiar to me. Where I’m from, you take your School Certificate in year 10 and your Higher School Certificate in year 12. Same basic rules apply, although the real world has more expansive tertiary education options.

My point is not to argue that exams are good (I hate exams; they make my hands shake) or that they are the best way to assess students, but rather to point out that, broadly, they are a means of establishing an outcome. We taught you to do A Thing. We told you it was important, and that you needed to demonstrate you could do The Thing. We are going to assign you some tasks to demonstrate that you can do The Thing. Now that you have done The Thing to our satisfaction, we will give you a piece of paper confirming that you can indeed do The Thing, so you can either get a job doing The Thing or be admitted to tertiary courses on The Thing.

The Harrowing does not do that.

a) The Harrowing does not reasonably test what Circle mages have been studying

The Harrowing does not follow a course of study. You don’t have different Harrowings for warrior mages and healers. You can’t be a bit shit with spirits, but excellent at fire magic so you come out ahead in the end. The Harrowing is a single test, applied to all mages, without warning or any advisement of what, exactly, they should be preparing for:

I found myself on a plateau of swirling smoke and mist. I could not see my feet, or perhaps I had no feet in that place. Each step was treacherous. I had to believe there was a ground. If I didn't, there wouldn't be, and I would fall into nothingness. I was protected only by my will and my magic.

The demon they made me face took the shape of a great cat. As we battled, it spoke in my mind. It told me that I would eventually stumble, and then it would pounce. The demon talked to me of the templars beyond the Veil, standing over my paralyzed body, their swords pointed at my heart, waiting for the moment of my failure. All it would take was a splinter of fear, a seed of doubt, and I would be unmade. The demon would devour my mind, and the templars would destroy what was left of me.

This was my Harrowing. They force this upon all mages and call it good. But it is neither good nor right. It is evil and unjust.

—From a partially destroyed journal bearing no name, found in a Kinloch Hold cistern.

– Codex entry: Walking the Fade: A Harrowing

The details of a mage’s experience in the Fade will vary, of course, but in outline it’s always that. The Harrowing does not allow you to pick your course or to specialise; it is not a demonstration of your chosen areas of study in the Circle. I mean – good luck defeating a demon in the Fade with alchemy.

b) The Harrowing does not serve as proof that a mage has completed a course of study within the Circle, and is now ready to apply their skills in the real world

The Harrowing separates skilled magic users from those too weak or unstable to be be trusted with their gift. The Chantry considers mages who have passed the Harrowing no longer a danger to society – until they prove otherwise – and gives them a limited licence to practise magic.

– World of Thedas I

That does sound as though your Harrowing is your final exam. You have passed it, you have demonstrated yourself to be a competent and qualified mage, and you are free to go.

Except ... none of that is actually true.

Practically speaking, nothing changes for a mage after the Harrowing. Unlike your NEWTS and your HSC, you can’t just take your shiny new Harrowing papers and go out into the world. You can’t just take up a post as a town healer or join the army; you certainly can’t decide that magic just isn’t your thing and apprentice yourself to a baker. You are not free to marry and raise your own children. You are not, really, free to do anything now that you couldn’t before – except not be Harrowed again.

Assisting the first enchanter will be the senior enchanters, a small council of the most trusted and experienced magi in the tower. From this group, the next first enchanter is always chosen. Beneath the council are the enchanters. These are the teachers and mentors of the tower, and you must get to know them in order to keep your finger on the pulse of the Circle, for the enchanters will always know what is happening among the children.

All those who have passed their Harrowing but have not taken apprentices are mages. This is where most trouble in a Circle lies, in the idleness and inexperience of youth. The untested apprentices are the most numerous denizens of any tower, but they more often pose threats to themselves, due to their lack of training, than to anyone else.

– Codex entry: Hierarchy of the Circle

Here ‘mages’ are effectively lumped in with ‘apprentices’ as the children of the tower. Mages are young because they seem to be Harrowed in about their late teens, and they are inexperienced and idle because they aren’t allowed to do anything or go anywhere. One must be an enchanter to be even worth knowing.

At the end of Broken Circle, Wynne must ask permission to travel with the Hero of Ferelden:

Wynne: Irving, I have a request: I seek leave to follow the Grey Warden.

Irving: Wynne, we need you here. The Circle needs you.

Wynne: I appreciate the sentiment, Irving, but the Circle will do fine without me. The Circle has you. This man/woman is brave and good, and capable of great things. If he/she will accept my help I will help him/her accomplish his/her goals.

Irving: You were never one to stay in the tower when there was adventure to be had elsewhere.

Wynne: Why stay, when I can be of service elsewhere?

Irving: Then I give you leave to follow the Grey Warden, but know that you always have a place here.

– Wynne and Irving Dialogue

Great big grown up lady Wynne. Senior Enchanter Wynne. Veteran of Ostagar Wynne. Just saved the fucking Circle damn near by herself while the Templars cowered outside the door Wynne. And she still needs her bloody permission slip signed before she can do what most people would take for granted: walk out her own front door.

Oh she gets it relatively easily; there’s no dispute about that. But the Fereldan Circle is described as ‘one of the most liberally run’, and Wynne has spent decades building a reputation as the kind of Chantry faithful mage who can be let off the leash once in a while.

At the other end of the spectrum lies the Kirkwall Circle:

I have heard that in the Kirkwall Gallows, mages are locked in their cells with barely room to stretch, let alone exercise. I can promise you that any mage of the Anderfels would be stark raving made after a week of such treatment. We Anders are not a people to sit idle. Besides, fitness of body builds the strength of the mind. How can you stand against demonic possession if you’re never given a chance to sweat?

– No Idleness for Mages, World of Thedas II

In Kirkwall, mages, from tiny apprentices to elderly senior enchanters, are largely confined not just to the Circle but to their rooms. And you see this when you finally enter the Gallows in Act 3 of Dragon Age 2: the utter absence of mages, even where mages are supposed to live, is stunning – and a stark contrast to their relative prominence during the Circle scenes in the mage origin of Origin or Witch Hunt.

Even the first enchanter, the highest ranking mage in the Circle, may be forcibly returned to it:

Elthina: Of course not. Young men, would you show the first enchanter back to the Circle. Gently, if you please.

There's nothing a mage can do to prove himself. Everyone needs to be protected from you. The end.

– Anders Dialogue

Anders’s bitterness stems in large part from the Chantry’s gross and constant lies. He is a Harrowed mage. He passed their test. Apparently he is ‘no longer a danger’. That’s the whole fucking idea, right? But may he leave? No he may not.

Wynne did not get her permission slip signed because she was Harrowed. It was signed because she had obeyed and obeyed and obeyed to the point where the Chantry considered it highly probable that she would neither do anything they disliked (for good or ill) while she was out, nor leave them permanently.

Anders had repeatedly demonstrated that he wanted to leave. That he was not what they would consider Chantry faithful (he is, of course, Andrastian, even devout, but that is not the same thing). That he would definitely not come back, and might not even obey their rules – not the ones he believed were morally wrong. So no permission slip for him.

Damn near no one gets a permission slip signed in Kirkwall. You have to be the sister of the Champion of Kirkwall to even get out the front door for a minute for a family emergency.

A human mage Inquisitor may indicate that they were allowed to visit home just because, even as an apprentice:

Inquisitor: My parents made arrangements. I visited home from time to time.

Josephine: What parent wouldn’t want to prevent their child from growing into a stranger?

– Inquisitor and Josephine Dialogue

The same dialogue also indicates that the Templars in Ostwick were being bribed to keep their hands more-or-less off the mages: “Templars in Ostwick’s Circle were as discrete as they were well paid”.

For a mage, the ability to leave is dependent on:

the local attitude toward mages

the characters of the local Templars – especially the knight-commander

the mage’s ability to perform the role of devout servant of the Chantry

their personal social status.

The Harrowing has nothing to do with it.

For a mage, there is effectively no advantage to passing the Harrowing. Rather, in the extremely short time between finding out what the fuck this thing actually is and deciding what to do about it, many mages elect to be Harrowed to avoid the other, worse options. If you are not Harrowed, you are Tranquil or dead. So I guess tonight we’re fighting some random demon the Templars summoned. Goody.

3) What, exactly, is the Harrowing supposed to test again?

If a demon takes control of a mage, the powerful creature created is known as an abomination.

Although rare, abominations are usually created when a mage of weak constitution enters the fade and is directly exposed to a demon’s influences.

– World of Thedas I

So, in theory, the one big important thing the Harrowing is supposed to test is whether or not a mage is likely to become possessed. They catch a demon, they make you fight it, and winning demonstrates that you are good at fighting demons. It’s something of an odd test, since ‘abominations’ are apparently a rarity. I appreciate this kind of thing may be hard to believe from gameplay, but Warden, Champion and Inquisitor are operating on heroic arcs: they not only run toward fire and screaming, they live in times and places where fire and screaming really are the norm.

Possession is apparently rare, and the Harrowing is supposed to test mages for susceptibility, and yet out list of known ‘abominations’ includes Wynne, Uldred, Anders, Fiona, Grace, Evelina, Enchanter Boson, Enchanter Prist, Enchanter Fonst, Enchanter Luvan and Rhonus. There are senior enchanters on that list. The actual grand enchanter herself is on that list. While the mass possession scenes, notably Broken Circle and The Last Straw are too chaotic too track the identity of every mage, it seems likely that some of the possessed are Harrowed mages.

"We arrived in the dead of night. We had been tracking the maleficar for days, and finally had him cornered... or so we thought. As we approached, a home on the edge of the town exploded, sending splinters of wood and fist-sized chunks of rocks into our ranks. We had but moments to regroup before fire rained from the sky, the sounds of destruction wrapped in a hideous laughter from the center of the village.

There, perched atop the spire of the village chantry, stood the mage. But he was human no longer.

We shouted prayers to the Maker and deflected what magic we could, but as we fought, the creature fought harder. I saw my comrades fall, burned by the flaming sky or crushed by debris. The monstrous creature, looking as if a demon were wearing a man like a twisted suit of skin, spotted me and grinned. We had forced it to this, I realized; the mage had made this pact, given himself over to the demon to survive our assault."

—Transcribed from a tale told by a former templar in Cumberland, 8:84 Blessed.

It is known that mages are able to walk the Fade while completely aware of their surroundings, unlike most others who may only enter the realm as dreamers and leave it scarcely aware of their experience. Demons are drawn to mages, though whether it is because of this awareness or simply by virtue of their magical power in our world is unknown.

Regardless of the reason, a demon always attempts to possess a mage when it encounters one—by force or by making some kind of deal depending on the strength of the mage. Should the demon get the upper hand, the result is an unholy union known as an abomination. Abominations have been responsible for some of the worst cataclysms in history, and the notion that some mage in a remote tower could turn into such a creature unbeknownst to any was the driving force behind the creation of the Circle of Magi.

Thankfully, abominations are rare. The Circle has methods for weeding out those who are too at risk for demonic possession, and scant few mages would give up their free will to submit to such a bond with a demon. But once an abomination is created, it will do its best to create more. Considering that entire squads of templars have been known to fall at the hands of a single abomination, it is not surprising that the Chantry takes the business of the Circle of Magi very seriously indeed.

– Codex entry: Abomination

Possession is a complex thing that the Chantry has made simple. Uldred’s possession, for example, matches Chantry belief: he lost a fight with the demon he summoned and then became trapped within it, while the demon ran around torturing the very people Uldred was attempting to liberate. But Wynne’s spirit possessed her in a desperate life-saving measure, and doesn’t actively bother her thereafter. Anders and Justice are a kind of partnership – although not always the most functional one – and the same may be true of Grandin, although we’ll see how that goes. For Avvar mages possession is a sacred act, as well as a completely normal part of their education.

There’s no practical way to test whether a mage will become possessed in their lifetime because possession is highly context specific. It may be a good or bad thing, or simply a complex relationship between two people. A spirit may overwhelm a mage, a deal may be struck, the spirit may just ask nicely, or there may be a ritual invocation that accomplishes the whole thing. A mage may resist in one context but not in another and that resistance may also be good or bad: sure, we all wish Uldred had evicted his demon before the Warden got there, but if Wynne had fought off the spirit that possessed her, she would have died.

Grand Enchanter Fiona was possessed during The Calling:

Dismay filled Duncan as he saw something rise up out of the skeleton, like gossamer wisps of smoke that lifted up from its bones and swam across the air to sink into Fiona.

The elf threw back her head and let out a horrible, keening wail. Her entire body tensed, her hands flying out at her sides. Her skin became a pale white, and then began to change. It bulged, and twisted. Her body grew, and took on a hideous form, her head becoming something gnarled and fanged even as she shrieked in torment.

And then the transformation was done. A demonic abomination now stood where Fiona once had, a thing of rent flesh and claws, its gender no longer even apparent. The thing’s eyes glowed with menace, and it regarded Duncan with amusement.

– Dragon Age: The Calling

Fiona was assaulted, overwhelmed and tortured in the worst possible way. Only some backup from her friends allowed her to fight the demon off. And yet – it has never happened again.

With a wave of his hand, the Templars attacked. Even prepared as the mages were, they weren’t ready for the wave of disruption unleashed – the powers of a Templar are uniquely designed to counter a mage’s spells, and here that counted for everything. Blades came down against magical shields, shattering them and sending blinding sparks flying about the hall.

It did not stop the mages. The Grand Enchanter shouted in rage, unleashing a ball of blinding energy at the nearest group of Templars. Several raised their own shields in time, but that didn’t stop them from being scattered as the ball exploded. The concussive wave shook the entire chamber.

– Dragon Age: Asunder

Nothing about Fiona suggests she is weak in character, weak in will, weak in purpose, or weak in magic. Asunder, the story of the start of the mage rebellion, goes out of its way to tell us that, by the way, the grand enchanter can and does overcome the Templars’ powers of suppression in an utterly spectacular way. She is fierce and resolute as the mages fight for their lives and their freedom. That she was once possessed tells us nothing except that bad things sometimes happen to good people.

I don’t mean to suggest, of course, that every mage who is possessed will come out of it as well as Fiona does. She is one of Thedas’s wildly underappreciated heroes, so of course she’s awesome. Connor, for example, when seen in Inquisition is clearly traumatised (although given that he seems driven by guilt, at least some of that likely has to do with how he was treated after becoming possessed, rather than the event itself). But by that point in time, Connor was likely Harrowed himself – so is he likely to be possessed in future or not?

I also don’t mean to suggest that spirits, possession and the Fade are not things that mages should study, understand and be appropriately cautious in handling. A lot of possession seems to come from fucking up, although the person who gets possessed and the person who fucks up may well not be one and the same (see: Fiona, who neither made not summoned that demon and only encountered it out of bad luck).

What I mean to say is, like Fiona’s case, what happens to a young mage in the Harrowing Chamber, whether they pass or not, demonstrates only one thing: that very bad things can and do happen to good people.

4) Okay, so why are we doing this, then?

From the ... many, many previous paragraphs, you might think that I am arguing that the Harrowing in insignificant. I am not. It is a test; it revolves around demonstrating resisting possession; it is a vital rite of passage in a Circle mage’s life. My argument is that it is not a practical test. Rather, it is a religious rite.

Those who had been cast down, The demons who would be gods, Began to whisper to men from their tombs within the earth. And the men of Tevinter heard and raised altars To the pretender-gods once more, And in return were given, in hushed whispers, The secrets of darkest magic.

– Threnodies 5:11

No matter their power, their triumphs, The mage-lords of Tevinter were men And doomed to die. Then a voice whispered within their hearts, Shall you surrender your power To time like the beasts of the fields? You are the Lords of the earth! Go forth to claim the empty throne Of Heaven and be gods.

In secret they worked Magic upon magic All their power and all their vanity They turned against the Veil Until at last, it gave way.

Above them, a river of Light, Before them the throne of Heaven, waiting, Beneath their feet The footprints of the Maker, And all around them echoed a vast Silence.

But when they took a single step Toward the empty throne A great voice cried out Shaking the very foundations Of Heaven and earth:

And So is the Golden City blackened With each step you take in my Hall. Marvel at perfection, for it is fleeting. You have brought Sin to Heaven And doom upon all the world.

– Threnodies 8.13

– The Chant of Light

The Chantry believes that the ancient magisters of Tevinter – specifically Corypheus and his fellow priests – doomed the world by entering the Fade physically and trespassing in the Golden City. This created the Blight and, the Fifth Blight excepted, the Blights are effectively mass extinction events that have (so far) barely been halted by massive sacrifices of people and the death of the Warden who takes down the archdemon: the world is fucked because of mages.

There’s certainly some truth to the story: we have independent evidence of the mass sacrifice of slaves that allowed the magisters to walk into the Fade. There’s also plenty of reason to doubt the Chantry’s story: the Chant of Light was written centuries after the First Blight, by people with every reason to hate Tevinter. The presence of red (i.e. Tainted) lyrium in some really weird places, plus the fact that the dwarven thaigs fell to the Blight first, not Tevinter, suggests the Taint may have been around a lot longer than anyone currently suspects. Corypheus himself will insist the Fade city was black when he got there – and he is, as it stands, the only eyewitness to the event who’s willing to talk about it.

This story is a matter of Chantry dogma, and there are layers of ... let’s say historical dubiousness stacked atop it. That the magisters entered the Fade may be fact. That the gods they worshipped were in fact demons who envied the living and sought to destroy them, envious of the Maker’s love for his new children, is an idea that has not been supported by any spirit we’ve met so far. Every sign we have of spirits becoming demonic is as a result of trauma, not malice, and none of them know more of the Maker than could reasonably be learned from watching humans dream.

But in many ways, the magisters and the Blight are the cornerstone of the Chantry’s faith. They are more important than Andraste, whom they mostly think about as the hero who fought Tevinter – and who was then murdered by Tevinter. Mother Giselle will note that Andraste is usually thought of as a grim warrior, and not giving a shit about Andraste’s war, to instead focus on her relationship with her god, is regarded as the grossest heresy by the Chantry.

Greagoir: “Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.” Thus spoke the prophet Andraste as she cast down the Tevinter imperium, ruled by mages who had brought the world to the edge of ruin. Your magic is a gift, but it’s also a curse, for the demons of the dream realm – the Fade – are drawn to you, and seek to use you as a gateway into this world.

Irving: This is why the Harrowing exists. The ritual sends you into the Fade, and there you will face a demon, armed only with your will.

– Greagoir and Irving Dialogue

These are the very first words a mage Warden will hear after Duncan finishes his introduction. They are clearly ritual words, spoken to every apprentice mage before they are Harrowed. Even Templars don’t tend to start conversations with ‘thus spoke the prophet Andraste’ on a normal day.

And here, in these words, we can see the shape of the Harrowing. It is a reenactment. In this moment, the apprentice mage is a Tevinter magister. They are about to enter the Fade, as the magisters did, and be faced with demons, whom the magisters worshipped. In the story the magisters listened to the demons, offended the Maker, and doomed the world to corruption and death.

But this time? This time it will go right. It will go right because the Templars are here, and because the Chantry owns, controls and indoctrinates the mages. Either the mage will enter the Fade and reject the demon, as Chantry faith requires – or they won’t reject the demon, and the Templars will kill them. It is a ritual demonstration of the rightness of the Chantry faith, and the necessity of Templars. It demonstrates that mages are made safe through submission to the Chantry.

It is also the moment an apprentice is fully initiated into the Circle. And that’s a thing. The Chantry is big on submission. For mages more than anyone, obviously. But choice is not important to them. If we cut through the bullshit, the Chantry employs three kinds of magic users: mages, Templars and Seekers.

From a treatise on lyrium and its varied forms. Ser's words make one passage stand out:

The means and usage employed by the templar are far stronger than even the droughts of magi, and are of considerable danger to the uninitiated. It is not something that is introduced in gradual fashion. Rather, it is a great infusion that is daily held in check by ritual maintenance.

An account:

We entered the makeshift chantry, and my comrades-to-be were arranged as though an honor guard - the trainer waiting to receive me. I was invited to pass among them, and it seemed important that each step be my will. Any reluctance would have signaled that I was not ready. They were boisterous and encouraging, slapping hands upon my shoulders as I passed. Upon reaching the trainer, he turned to me. Before him was the boxed philter I had prepared. He nodded, as if to ask if I was ready, and I returned the gesture. His eyes were solemn as he raised a mailed hand. It was bathed in the shapeless glow of lyrium far too strong, prepared in a way I did not know.

The hands of my fellows, still on my shoulders, gently turned from welcome to restraint, and my arms were made immobile at my sides. I felt a rising alarm, but my certainty beat it down, as it would many times in my career. The trainer pressed the glow against my chest, and in an instant all was pain and white. When next I had my senses, there was much camaraderie and rejoicing, but also knowing looks. Each day, I felt a hunger deeper than I had ever known, and woe be me if it went unfed. I cannot imagine bearing it without the support of the Order and my certain purpose.

Several instructions for handling lyrium follow.

– Way of the Templar

Templars are not brutalised quite the way mages are: they are not hauled from their beds in the dead of night and offered a choice between a fight to the death and mutilation. This initiation ritual includes something like the illusion of choice – but ultimately the young trainee is restrained and forcibly fed a highly addictive substance. His addiction will control him, and ultimately render him senile. Your savvier ex-Templars, like Alistair and Samson, are keenly aware of this

Every day in Kirkwall, a revered mother gave the templar recruits their lyrium—blue lyrium—in a little chalice with Andraste’s face on it. Like the muttonheads they were, the recruits drank it unquestioningly, because they loved the Maker, or because they wanted to serve, or because they trusted the Chantry. At first, it seemed like a real blessing. The lyrium took away your fear and left power in its place.

But like any power, it was addictive. At least the red had… compensations. The Chantry lyrium? You never realized it was taking more than just the fear, slowly, painlessly, until one day you woke up and you couldn’t do without the stuff.

Samson let the empty vial roll out of his hand.

– Paper and Steel

The initiation ritual involves a massive dose of lyrium, to ensure addiction, and thereafter the Chantry doles out enough to prevent Templars from going into withdrawal – although we can see in Kirkwall that some seek more of the stuff on the black market. Mages have magic, and the Chantry chains them; Templars are granted magic through use of lyrium – and the lyrium also functions as a chain.

Obviously the Seekers are a little different: they serve the Chantry and are effectively accountable to no one. They are highly secretive and, as a group, may be more powerful even than the Divine. And yet ...

This is Cassandra’s view on her initiation, both before and after she knows what the fuck they did to her:

Cassandra: [Prospective Seekers] train vigorously for years. Our bodies and minds must be elastic to undergo the vigil, and most fail even then.

Inquisitor: Is the vigil some kind of Initiation?

Cassandra: It is the rite every Seeker must go through in order to summon their gifts. A full year of fasting, prayer, and separation from all distractions – including other people. We empty ourselves of all emotion, focusing only on the purity of our devotion. And the moment it finally ends ... it’s wonderful. Faith realised. I cannot put it into words.

– Cassandra Dialogue

...

Cassandra: We created the Rite of Tranquillity. To become a Seeker I spent months in a vigil, emptying myself of all emotion. I was made Tranquil, and didn’t even know. Then the vigil summoned a spirit of Faith to touch my mind. That broke Tranquillity, and gave me my abilities. The Seekers did not share that secret ... not with me ... not with the Chantry ... not even with ...

– Cassandra Dialogue

Initially Cassandra regards her vigil as a sacred and spiritual experience. It was a thing she chose to do, in order to become a Seeker. She succeeded, she was affirmed in both her faith and her skills, and she is proud of what she is, and how well her training prepared her for a year of solitary meditation.

Except ... that’s not what happened. They made her Tranquil, and then later they undid it. The touch of a Fade spirit gave her her abilities. Everything else was window dressing. She was not warned of the risks. This was not a trial she proudly accepted and faced. It was a thing done to her. And all those ‘failed’ recruits? They were made Tranquil, and they didn’t recover. And then comes a worse question: what did they do with them after?

Seekers are the most independent magic users the Chantry has. They are the ultimate judge of what a Templar may or may not do to a mage. Cassandra explicitly states that her powers allow her to bend both to her will. And thus, theirs is the most literal trial of faith. They are stripped of their emotions, and then a spirit of faith is summoned. If the spirit is attracted to the faith they see in the candidate, they are restored. If not? Well ... do we want to think too much about that?

I do not dispute that faith may be important to a person; even an integral part of their character. But a Seeker with doubt is a Seeker who will be destroyed. And that doesn’t strike me as a very reasonable position.

A test of commitment to Chantry doctrine is common across all Chantry magic users, and there is a ‘succeed or perish’ element to all of them. If you will have magic, the Chantry will own you, body and soul. The Harrowing does not, practically speaking, test your ability to resist possession because there’s no way to do that. No one behaves as though it does, either, because a Harrowed mage is just as imprisoned as an apprentice.

Rather, it is an affirmation of perhaps the Chantry’s most important tenet: Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.

4) Okay, so if the Harrowing is a religious rite, not an exam, then what does that make Circles?

I would certainly never suggest that a thing being religious and a thing being practical are mutually exclusive. There are cultures where the distinction between ‘secular’ and ‘religious’ would be an incoherent concept. Cammen, for instance, is a Dalish elf concerned with passing his hunt. This is a boy with no vallaslin, and this is clearly a rite of passage for him. It is however, also clearly a practical skill he needs to demonstrate: he is showing his clan, and his prospective love, that he can handle himself and help provide for the People.

Dalish clans, however, seem to be fairly egalitarian in their social structure – and the art of survival is integral to their culture. This is very, very different to the place mages hold in the culture of southern Thedas.

The thing is, there is a place where everything I have said does not apply. Where Circles are schools, and likely among the best places in Thedas for learning magic. That place is Tevinter.

Imperial Circles, in contrast to the Circle of Magi, are places of honour where the art of magic is freely passed down to young mages. Attendance at a Circle in Tevinter is not mandatory: it is a privilege.

– World of Thedas I

Moreover, the Tevinter Circles predate the southern Circles of Magi:

Before it became the Imperium, Tevinter was ruled by a dynasty of kings. And long before the Chantry there was a Circle of Magi: the society of mages in each city. The titles our modern Circles use—enchanter, senior enchanter, first enchanter—all originated here. But above the first enchanter, the Circles of Tevinter had another office: magister.

– Tevinter: The Magisters

I think it’s worth looking at the creation of the Circles:

It is a truth universally acknowledged that nothing is more successful at inspiring a person to mischief as being told not to do something. Unfortunately, the Chantry of the Divine Age had some trouble with obvious truths. Although it did not outlaw magic--quite the contrary, as the Chantry relied upon magic to kindle the eternal flame which burns in every brazier in every chantry--it relegated mages to lighting candles and lamps. Perhaps occasional dusting of rafters and eaves.

I will give my readers a moment to contemplate how well such a role satisfied the mages of the time.

It surprised absolutely no one when the mages of Val Royeaux, in protest, snuffed the sacred flames of the cathedral and barricaded themselves inside the choir loft. No one, that is, but Divine Ambrosia II, who was outraged and attempted to order an Exalted March upon her own cathedral. Even her most devout Templars discouraged that idea. For 21 days, the fires remained unlit while negotiations were conducted, legend tells us, by shouting back and forth from the loft.

The mages went cheerily into exile in a remote fortress outside of the capital, where they would be kept under the watchful eye of the Templars and a council of their own elder magi. Outside of normal society, and outside of the Chantry, the mages would form their own closed society, the Circle, separated for the first time in human history.

--From Of Fires, Circles, and Templars: A History of Magic in the Chantry, by Sister Petrine, Chantry scholar.

This is a Chantry source, so it needs to be read carefully. Sister Petrine is no fool – got herself on Sister Lilian’s banned book list in World of Thedas II and everything – but honestly the tone of this entry edges close to blatant sarcasm, so I don’t think we need take words like ‘cheerily’ seriously.

Imprisoned Chantry mages attempted a rebellion. The outcome of that rebellion was that the mages were taken to remote locations – often towers – and locked up there permanently. It doesn’t sound as though they won. The word Petrine uses is ‘separated’. That word can be misleading, because you can read it as ‘free’, as mages operating outside of the Chantry. It does not mean that. Rather it means that once, mages were within the ranks of Chantry sisters and brothers – though probably very subordinate and painfully oppressed. They were ‘part’ of the Chantry in the way Vivienne is if she becomes Divine (although obviously that puts her at the opposite end of the power structure). As a result of the rebellion a separate order was created: the Circle of Magi. Circles are ‘outside’ the Chantry proper as Templars and Seekers are; they play a distinct role in Chantry society.

At the time, the “nation” his mother ruled over was not even half the size of modern-day Orlais, and unified only in their love of Andraste and shared hatred of everyone else.

– World of Thedas II

A mage who does not receive the teachings of the Circle and who does not have the words of Andraste in her heart is an apostate, and a danger to us all. Without the guidance of the holy Chantry, a mage may foolishly dabble in the darker arts—blood magic, or demon summoning, thus becoming maleficarum. And a mage's mind will ever be a doorway to spirits of the Fade; without proper instruction, this doorway remains open and unsecured. If a demon should come through this doorway and possess a mage, an abomination is created. Abominations know only madness. They cannot be reasoned with and will slaughter man, woman and child without thought. Whole cities have fallen to these creatures. Thousands have died at their hands.

The Chantry and her templars have a duty to ensure that this does not happen.

If I knew a better way to deal with magic, I would seize upon it immediately. You say we should let the mages guard themselves. I tell you that this is no solution. Look at the Tevinter Imperium. Their magisters do not know restraint. Without Chantry oversight the magisters abuse their power. Those without magic are trampled underfoot and forced to serve. Slaves are slaughtered by the hundreds to feed the magisters' hunger for power. Even some mages are not spared, for in mages as in all humans, there exists a spectrum—on one end, the very powerful, on the other, those that can barely light a candle. The Empire cares only for the strongest, and those who do not compare favorably are thrown to the wolves.

Imagine your children growing up in such a world. If a mage asked it of you, you would have to give him your daughter, not knowing what his plans for her might be. You could not resist him, and neither could she. Without our templars and without the Circle, the common man would have no defense against magic. We must deny the mages certain freedoms for the common good. I wish there was another way. I tell the apprentices this is a test of their faith, that it is the will of the Maker. Many understand that we do what we do for their own good.

—Excerpt of a letter from Grand Cleric Francesca of Starkhaven to Lord Guthrie Abholz.

– An Honest Answer Regarding Apostates

Orlesian culture is appallingly xenophobic – and has been for centuries. It has gone so far as to obliterate most interpretations of Andrastianism that differ from its own, and driven the remainder into hiding. The version of the Chant of Light it embraced, perhaps unsurprisingly, places great emphasis on Andraste’s war. Thus, Tevinter is the great enemy of the Chantry, and Tevinter culture is defined by its veneration of magic.

I have said before that mages tend to perform religious functions in Thedosian cutures: Dalish Keepers, Rivaini seers, Avvar augers, Chasind shaman, Nevarran mortalitasi. It’s ... easy to think of the Chantry as exempt from that rule, because you see no mage revered mothers or grand clerics; their faith seems different to the norm. It ... is, but not quite like that. Orlais’s hatred of the other, combined with the myth of the start of the first Blight, has created a terrible fear of the Fade and those who can interact with it. The role of a Circle mage is almost purely religious – just not in a sense that is any good for anyone involved.

In Chantry culture, mages play the role of ‘the devil’. Every mage is a potential magister, every spirit a potential archdemon ready to tempt another fall. And Circles facilitate that role: they steal the name and ape the structure of Tevinter Circles, but the goal is not to teach, but to indoctrinate and control.

At the head of each local Circle is a First Enchanter, implicitly the leader of all mages in that Circle’s jurisdiction. He or she assumes this position for life and retains the right to choose a successor, taking into consideration the ‘strong suggestions’ of the Templars. Only in recent years, amid increasing friction, have First Enchanters denied Templar choices for succession.

– World of Thedas I

Everything about the Circle is an act: while there have absolutely been rebel First Enchanters who fought for the wellbeing of their people, those are anomalous, and a sign of the disintegration of the system the Chantry devised. Just as in the Harrowing every mage is Corypheus, but casting aside Dumat because they have ‘the words of Andraste in their heart’, every mage in the Circle is playing the part of the evil Tevinter mage brought under control by righteous Templar authority. The study of magic, the robes, the idea of mages as soft and coddled, the power structure that is nothing but a Chantry puppet show.

Of course a Circle mage may teach an apprentice spells; of course a clever mage, with nothing to do with their time, may attempt scholarship and study within the Circle. Real people live in Circles, and they try to live their lives. But that is incidental. I would argue that the existence of Circles is religious and racial persecution. Not because mages are a race or a religion – they aren’t. But rather because the Circles attempt to impose both the Chantry faith, and the Chantry view of magic and the Fade on everyone – and indigenous cultures and peoples fall before them (and even in game, many of those peoples are non-human and/or non-white).

Orlais absorbed and converted most of the lands in its immediate vicinity. It has spread its tendrils over most of Thedas. There’s resistance, yes: survivors like the Dalish and Chasind, living on the margins; nations like Nevarra and Rivain that managed to maintain some of their traditional practices by making accommodations with Orlais but managing to resist occupation. But if you think of the Dales as an example case:

When the holy Exalted March of the Dales resulted in the dissolution of the elven kingdom, leaving a great many elves homeless once again, the Divine Renata I declared that all lands loyal to the Chantry must give the elves refuge within their own walls. Considering the atrocities committed by the elves at Red Crossing, this was a great testament to the Chantry's charity. There was one condition, however--the elves were to lay aside their pagan gods and live under the rule of the Chantry.

– The City Elves

Keepers are priests. Keepers are mages. If you want to kill a faith, burn the books and relics, burn the temples or holy sites, and take away the priests or elders. A city-born elven mage-child is taken to the Chantry, away from their people. They face years of indoctrination and separation from their own culture. Unless they escape, they can never be a Keeper. Orsino and Fiona are heroes of the mage rebellion – they are great elven mages, but they are not Keepers, and they could not simply walk into a Dalish clan and take over the role. That was stolen from them. So there are no Keepers in the alienages, and the elves lose a chunk of their ability to practise their own faith. Repeat that, across every distinct culture in Thedas. Imagine every child from every conquered village taken to the Circle, and not taught the magic of their ancestors – but rather made into pretend Tevinter magisters, cowering beneath holy Templar blades. That is what the Circle is for.

One must keep in mind the state of Thedas prior to the Chantry's creation: a world where the only source of order—the Tevinter Imperium—had fallen apart. People blamed magic for the death of Andraste, the Blight, the terror they saw every day—and not without reason. Abominations and demons rampaged the countryside. No one was safe. Disparate groups of men and women initially formed the Seekers of Truth, determined to reestablish order because no one else would do what was necessary. The truth they sought, the question they tried to answer, was how to restore sanity in a world gone mad.

– The First Inquisition

When you hear the word ‘abomination’ it’s easy to think of this:

The Chantry certainly wants you to. But you must remember, they may also mean Sigrid here:

... and when they say ‘demons’ they may well mean the gods of the Avvar people. They want to destroy them because they are different, and Orlais abhors difference.

So, when I say that Circles should be brought down, I say it because they are not schools: they are a religious Order dedicated to both reaffirming the Orlesian view of magic and destroying rival faiths by stealing their mage children, and the Harrowing is not a test of a mage’s ability to practise their craft safely in the real world, but rather an initiation rite that cements the mage’s place in the Circle and reaffirms Chantry belief that their way is the only one.

Let there be no more Circles in southern Thedas. Let them build their own damn Hogwarts instead.

#dragon age #chantry critical #Mages #mage rights

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r0sequarks · 6 years ago

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Dumbledore is totally not a Gryffindor and I spent an hour writing an essay about it because i am a giant nerd so check under the cut if you want to read my really well thought out conspiracy theory

Dumbledore is not a Gryffindor. While he does have courage and bravery, so does he he value hard work and loyalty, and is intelligent and witty - having the traits does not define being part of a house, as seen by Hermione Granger being the smartest witch of her age but still a Gryffindor - no, it is what drives you, and what is at the core of your being, and Dumbledore shows no signs of being driven by bravery. While he does frequently fight, he prefers to take a more passive role, manipulating others into fighting for him, acting as a leader over others. Throughout the series, he takes the role of a chessmaster, placing Harry so that he can develop as the means to kill Voldemort, even though theoretically it may be within Dumbledore's means to slay the man himself. Above all else, he is not brave, but smart - and not smart in a studious manner, but 'street smart', although he certainly is well-learned. His primary intelligence lies in manipulation, in resourcefulness, leadership, cunning, ambition. Albus Dumbledore is undoubtedly a Slytherin based on his actions, which leads to the question - why does his Chocolate Frog card say he is in Gryffindor.

Dumbledore is undoubtedly in a position of power, especially within Hogwarts. At the time we discover he was allegedly in Gryffindor, he has been headmaster for twenty years, and has been teaching at Hogwarts for over seventy. He is one of the most well known and respected wizards, and one of the older, and given that two world wars and one wizarding war have passed since he was at Hogwarts, it is likely few remain who remember his actually attending the school. It is well within his means to change records, and to claim that he was in Gryffindor, and unlikely anyone would say otherwise, as his house in school is ultimately a minor matter for anyone who doesn't currently attend Hogwarts. From there comes the question of why - why would Dumbledore lie about his house? Well, from there, we look to none other than Dolores Umbridge.

Dolores Umbridge is the most hated character in the entire series. Everyone despises her. When faced with the question of who is worse - Voldemort, who is trying to commit genocide, and Umbridge, who while incredibly abusive is not a murderer, most need a moment to think about it. That's because evil on the scale of Voldemort is difficult to comprehend, while a bad teacher and abuse are something most everyone can understand and relate to. It is hard to know what to do, against massive evil - it is the minor evils that draw our attention. When we focus on systemic oppression, most often we focus on acts, and even better, individuals. So, to draw the focus on to a group like the Death Eaters, it can be easier to use a smaller, more relateable target - like school bullies. There is a mental association commonly present that Slytherin is Evil, and Gryffindor good - that Slytherin are junior Death Eaters. This connects simple school bullies to the massive, unimaginable evil - and draws the students, especially Gryffindor students, in to the mindset of child soldiers early on.

This also has the opposite effect - framing Slytherin students as evil gets rid of their chance to escape their families, and furthers the push of these students in to the ranks of the Death Eaters. If this was done purposefully, then Dumbledore must have willingly been able to sacrifice the minds and even the lives of children, to turn other children in to soldiers, all in an attempt to bring down Voldemort. This Machiavellian scheme seems unfitting to a man who plays the role of kind mentor, and who impresses the point of the power of love, but it is not without more prescient canonical evidence. Dumbledore leaves the young Harry with his Aunt and Uncle, despite the fact he could quite easily place him anywhere without question. Following that, he repeatedly sends Harry back to live with them, even knowing that it is an incredibly abusive environment. The argument can be made for the protective spell - but Hogwarts is just as protected. Dumbledore made the choice, to send Harry back instead of keeping him in Hogwarts, because he believed that it was necessary. Dumbledore has been shown to put the greater good over the safety of a child, and so these actions fit entirely within precedent.

It is of course possible that none of this is true - that he was a Gryffindor, that the Slutherin/Gryffindor divide is perfectly natural, and that there was no master plan. After all, we only truly see Dumbledore late in life, and the hat sees the present, not the future. Manipulation can be learned, and bravery and courage can take way to reason, especially over a century. The theory is based on the fact that DUmbledore was a Slytherin in his school years, after all, and not that he is one now. It all comes down to one phrase - the greater good.

Inscribed on the gates of Nurmengard, the prison which Gellert Grindelwald built and later inhabited, is the phrase, for the greater good. It is a phrase which defines Grindelwald's philosophy - to do evil for the greater good of the world - and one which Dumbledore himself coined. The Dumbledore we see glimpses of in an early life is decidedly even more of a Slytherin than the modern man, because he is defined by his ambition. While some say it is the fault of his infatuation with Grindelwald, Dumbledore readily plans out an attempt to overthrow the Wizarding World and form a benevolent dictatorship over the world - admittedly, for the greater good. This is an undeniable sign of his Slytherin nature, and provides even more evidence for the cover up - Dumbledore doesn't want anyone to know that he was friends with Grindelwald, how close he became to being a dark lord himself, as it would discredit him as the savior of the wizarding world and as a mentor to Harry. The friendship is one of Dumbledore's best kept secrets, as shown by the book Skeeter released following his death, revealing their relationship, something that few of Dumbledore's allies were able to believe, and that Harry only bought given evidence. The life and lies indeed.

Slytherin becomes Gryffindor, and the history books of the modern age become much cleaner - the grand hero who defeated Grindelwald was not his friend, and it is Gryffindors who save the day against the evils of Slytherin. Dumbledore, ever the Slytherin, is nothing but not resourceful. The lie protects him, forges Gryffindor in to a receptacle of young soldiers to be in the war, and even gives cover for his spies in the Death Eaters. The view of Slytherin as evil becomes effectively true - not by any inherent nature, but because people fill the roles in which they have been cast. Continuing on with this belief does nothing but further Dumbledore's manipulations of events.

Dumbledore is not the villain - and the revelation that he was a Slytherin, and the extent of his manipulations, doesn't change that fact. But, then again, neither is he the hero. The problems that are faced in the series are, inevitably, his fault - and it is only through him that they are fixed. This simplifies things, and removes the extent of certain actors agencies, but it is not entirely inaccurate. The similarities between Tom Riddle and Harry Potter extend well beyond sharing part of a soul. They are both orphans, raised in abusive muggle environments, who suddenly find themselves to be wizards. While it is not stated, it is most likely that Riddle was not sent back to the orphanage over the summer - in fact, given his in depth knowledge of the castle and its secrets, it's probable he stayed at Hogwarts for these vacations. What makes Riddle a villain is not, as what can be claimed, that he was a child of rape, but that he was someone with no power who quite suddenly became one of the most powerful in the world. With nothing to grant him humility, his arrogance grew, leading to his seeking more power, through the Horcruxes. It is not to say that Harry would have gone the same road - but it so easily could be. In the end, Harry is a pureblood, and he is a very wealthy one at that. He has immense power, and as they say - power corrupts. There are two factors that are the most prevelant at seperating Harry from power - the fact he lives with the Dursleys, and the fact he is a Gryffindor. The Dursleys, through their abuse, remind Harry of suffering, of what it is like to not be on top, something key in the development of empathy. And the reason he stressed that he wasn't a Slytherin? Because Slytherin is evil, and Gryffindor good.

That is not to say that without Dumbledore, Harry would have turned in to a second Voldemort. That is an unreasonable extreme. More likely, however, is that he would have turned in to a second James. James Potter was, ultimately, a good person, but he was also an arrogant bully, and it was only trying to win the love of Lily Evans that reversed that. A Harry more like James may have died at Voldemort's hands, too self confident, or not nearly as versed in the powers of love. Or, perhaps, he could have defeated Voldemort, but become corrupted by the power and fame. This isn't an apocalyptic ending, but it's an ending that ensures the status quo remains in place, whereas the Harry that we know, given that power and attention, is undoubtedly trying to change and fix the world.

Is it worth it? Is it worth putting a child through such pain, to better ensure his survival when he is pit against a genocidal maniac, and ultimately, to change the world? It is not something a Gryffindor would ever be able to do. But, the world needs Slytherins for a reason - for the Greater Good.

#harry potter #meta #harry potter meta #hp meta #hp #albus dumbledore #dumbledore #gryffindor #slytherin #gellert grindelwald #voldemort

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penkukatana · 3 years ago

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Pilot : A New Journey

Just a normal day at the academy, students were enjoying their recess to the fullest, embracing a loud and joyous atmosphere inside the voluminous dining hall. The Royal Academy of Magic and Science, also known as RAMS, is the one and only educational institute established in Oneiric Kingdom, where all the talented young prodigy of respective tribes were gathered under one roof to be equipped with all the essential knowledge and skill to later become the future leaders and warriors of the kingdom.

"Bong!"

The distinct sound of the old bell echoed across every corner of the iconic academic buildings, marking the end of the one-hour recess period given to the students. Gradually, the hall began to lose its noisy ambience as students had already finished their meal and slowly making their way out of the dining hall to continue the second half of their lesson schedule.

However, positioned at the very front row of the dining hall, a group of six female students still hadn’t move an inch from their position, not showing any sign of a rush in doing so as they kept goofing around with each other while munching on their meals.

Sakura : Oi Yena-ssi, can you speed up and finish your meal? It's time already!

Yena : Haha chill out, unnie. What's the rush for? It's not like the teachers gonna be on time anyway.

Sakura : Huh~ I know, but I got Combat class after this. You know what Sir Junho will do to the last person that enter his class, right?

The pure agitation on Sakura’s face sent Yena stifling into laughter.

Yena : Ahh, so that's why you’re freaking out right now. But... if you come to think of it, isn't it a good thing if you get to pair with him for the class? I mean, you get to experience getting your ass kicked by the great Sir Junho, the greatest ex-combatants of IZ-Land. And of course, learn from him at the same time.

Eunbi : But maybe less learning and more pain instead.

Minju : For real, though. Last time I had to pair with him for Combat class, I returned to dorm that day with bruises all over my back. I couldn't even sleep straight that night because of it.

Yujin : Haha seriously, unnie? I mean... no offense, but it's getting hard to trust your story these days since you always exaggerate. Even if I lightly tap your shoulder right now, you’ll say that I almost kill you, right?

The whole table burst into laughter from Yujin's honest comment, making the milky white face of the ice princess turned as red as the lipstick she wore on her lips.

“Don't you have class after this, Nako? You usually leave for class early since you need the front seat every time,” asked Eunbi jokingly.

“Ahh~ unnie! I told you not to mention about the front seat thing again. I'm much taller now compared to last year," said Nako while pouting her mouth. "And to answer your question, no, my Potions class was cancelled. Professor Yang have a meeting today.

"Ooh ooh, same goes for me. Both my History and Economics class after this were cancelled last minute because the professors are absent. I heard the other students said that they went for a meeting or something," added Yujin.

"Hmm...so, most professors are having the same emergency meeting today. I wonder what do they talk about.” said Eunbi.

The whole table went for a short moment of silent as each of the girls was trying to take a guess on the issue. Even Yena had paused from chewing the baked beans in her mouth just to try and give a thought about the topic. At the moment, only one of them seemed to not be giving a single hoot about the discussion while shaking her leg anxiously.

"Urgh~ screw it! I don’t want to have a broken neck by the end of today’s class, so I'm leaving," erupted Sakura, aggressively picking up her stuff from the table before rushing off towards the exit.

Suddenly, something bizarre happened. All the chairs and tables inside the dining hall somehow began to move by itself. Sakura who was only a feet away from the exit paused her steps in bewilderment as she realized that the entire ground was shaking.

"Y-Yah, what the hell is happening!?" questioned Yena in shock.

All the leftover of their meal spilled to the floor due to the strong-mild earthquake. The intense rumbling of ground also made the girls starting to lose their balance a bit.

"Guys, we need to get out of here! I think the building is going to collapse soon," yelled Eunbi.

The girls nodded to Eunbi's command. They grabbed onto each others' hand and ran towards the exit across the room. Sakura meanwhile still hadn’t move from where her standing, holding tightly to the door handle while waiting for her friends’ arrival to made their escape together.

"Guys, faster!" shouted Sakura from afar, holding tightly to the door handle.

As the ground kept shaking on high rate, the ceiling started to crack with debris pouring on them. Yujin who was on the run while nimbly avoiding the broken tiles, noticed a large pile of concrete about to come off from the ceiling, located precisely above Sakura's head.

"Kkura-unnie, move away from there!" shouted Yujin.

Unfortunately, Sakura couldn't heard her due to the deafening noise of the crumbling wall.

At this point, Yujin couldn't seem to ignore the warning. The concrete piece was only held by a single steel cable before it would completely fell on top of Sakura’s head .

Going by her full instinct, Yujin let go of Nako's hand and dashed forward with an amazing pace. Despite having stumbled a few times by the broken tiles, she was able to avoid as many concrete ceiling that were raining on them like a rocky snow.

However, just a few steps before she could finally reached Sakura, the steel cable holding the concrete had completely detached, causing it to free-fall to the ground by the natural law of gravity.

Running out of time and option, Yujin instantly channeled all her inner energy to channel her special ability. With her gifted ability, she launched herself 10 feet above the ground while effortlessly covering a 15 meter distance with full momentum to smash the concrete into pieces with her bare fist before she crash-landed onto the ground.

"Oh God, Yujin-ah! A-Are you okay? Let me help you up."

Sakura quickly helped Yujin to get back on her feet before they both making their way out of the dining room. After Eunbi, Yena, Nako and Minju also succeeded in making their escape from the dining hall, the girls worked their feet towards the dormitory as instructed by the announcement from the headmaster earlier.

******

As they were running across the bridge connecting the academic building and the dormitory, a loud thud intensified across the island, putting the girls on shock therefore pausing their steps after hearing it. What they saw next as they turned their head around was unbelievable with their eyes. Chills crawled over their spines and a jolt was sent across their body by the frightening scenery that lied upon them. A huge army of dark mages were raining the entire the kingdom with dark magic, creating almost like a spontaneous firework show as the attack collided with the transparent magical barrier that served as a first-line protector of the floating island.

"Shit...that doesn't look good," said Yena, stating the obvious.

"Oh no, we're so doomed now," added Minju, being a bit more paranoid as usuals.

"The dark magic is really strong that the impact when it collides with the barrier causes an earthquake to the whole island," explained Nako, looking terrified and amazed at the same time.

"How much longer can the barrier stands at this rate?" asked Yujin, mouth was half opened while observing the scale of mess they about to face.

Just as Yujin was saying, the barrier started to break little by little. The army of dark mages swamped into the loophole of the broken part of the barrier and later on, in the count of a few seconds on hand, the protective shield had completely teared down, leaving the kingdom with full vulnerability of an attack by the enemy. The dark mages led by their king, Lord Drakka, launched a full force attack toward the kingdom, creating explosions and chaos on every part of the island where local villagers and citizens were scattered all over the place to seek their safety.

With a huge advantage on the enemy’s hand by the surprise attack, a group of tyranny dark mages charged toward the academy and raided the school compound, creating a complete panic situation among the students. The professors along with the entirety of the academy's workforce were all doing the best in their capabilities to provide defense and ensuring the students' safety.

Meanwhile, the six girls remained still on the bridge, truly in awe and at the same time clueless of the steps they should be taking from there.

"Shit, they're coming at us," said Eunbi, stating the obvious.

"Unnie, what do we do now? There's no use for us to hide at the dorm anymore at this rate," asked Yujin.

"Hmm...I say we fight them," replied Eunbi.

"A-Are you serious, unnie? I mean...we're still not ready, we don't have full control of our power yet," said Minju, voice starting to tremble.

"Haha, are you scared, Minju? Don't worry, I'll burn them all for you," said Yena in confidence, lighting up a ball of flame on her right hand.

"Okay, listen. They are coming now and we can't only depend on the teachers to protect us. About what Minju said, I believe we already train long enough and this is the time to apply what we have learnt," briefed Eunbi. "As you guys can see, we are obviously outnumbered by them. So, our plan here is just to defend ourselves and watch each others' back, at least until the helps arrive."

After the short briefing by the oldest, all the girls had no choice but to gather their courage and stood their ground.

"We'll move by pair now. Yena, you'll go with Minju, Sakura with Yujin, and Nako with me. Remember, watch each other backs and don't split too far with your partner, in case anything bad happen, alright?" reminded Eunbi.

All of them nodded as they understood the clear strategy explained by Eunbi.

"Okay, let's go, Minju-yah!" shouted Yena in confidence.

Truth be told, Yena was also nervous like the friends alongside her, but she also felt excited as she got to test her ability in real fights situation. She started off by engulfing her entire body with flames and flew to the airspace before taking down a couple of enemy with the fireballs shot from her bare hands.

"U-Unnie, wait for me!" yelled Minju with her trembling voice.

For some reason, Minju still didn't move her feet from the bridge. Eunbi who also possessed psychic ability, use her power to read Minju's mind.

"Minju-yah, I know you're scared, but we have no choice now. You need to be confident with your power to be able to defense yourself. As far as I know, you are the best archer in the school, and you also get high mark in combat skills, so I think you are more than ready to fight these bastards. You just need to trust yourself. We can do this," said Eunbi softly, trying to lift up the girl’s spirit.

Minju wiped her eyes that was getting teary after being overly terrified a moment ago. Being the princess of Akua, she channeled her power to form a solid ice bow and arrows by simply freezing the air particle around her. With her forte weapon on hand, she then began to join the fight by shooting down enemies from the bridge, covering Yena’s blind spot in the hectic aerial war ground.

"Damn. Nice shot," praised Yena in awe after a dark mage she was battling with getting struck with an arrow right through its head by Minju.

"Focus, unnie!”

Meanwhile, Sakura and Yujin already moved to the school ground to help the teachers. Sir Junho who were busy fighting, suddenly noticed Yujin and Sakura presence.

"Yujin, Sakura! You aren't suppose to be out here now," said Sir Junho.

"We want to help, sir. We're confident that we can help you to defend the school," replied Yujin.

Sakura who was standing beside her silently nodded as she agreed with Yujin's statement.

Sir Junho was reluctant to allow them to fight, but after considering on how outnumbered they were, he agreed to the offer.

"Fine. In that case, here's the plan. Yujin, you'll cover the ground with me. Sakura, you'll take the aerial side," briefed Sir Junho.

"Got it, sir!" Yujin and Sakura answered simultaneously.

Yujin jumped into the fight straightaway and kicked the enemies’ asses with her tremendous superhuman strength, knocking down every dark mages around her.

Sakura on the other hand, was calmly channeling her energy. The sky began to turn dark above them as if a storm about to occur. Her feet was slowly floating above the ground while her eyes turning fully white, electric charge flowed all over her hand. Using her power, she stroke the dark mages with the blades of thunderstorms she casted from the sky.

On the other hand, Eunbi and Nako rushed to the dormitory to help the students that were trapped inside. The dormitory was on fire as the dark mages exploded the roof with their magic. Eunbi removed all the obstacles that blocking their way using her wind power. Some of the students were too scared to move, so Eunbi used her telekinesis ability to get inside their head and helped them escape.

As they proceed to the ground level, they encountered a group of dark mages moving in their direction. The mages started to attack them by throwing their magic shots.

Nako calmly concentrated her elemental power and strike her palms. A huge boulder emerged from the ground, acting as a shield to protect Nako and Eunbi from the strikes. Nako then stumped her feet, sending a strong waves below the ground. All the dark mages were thrown away by the impact of Nako's attack.

However, no matter how many times they tried to kill the dark mages, it just hopeless. The dark mage kept resurrecting from dead and continued to attack them. At one point, the six girls were starting to get exhausted and losing their focus. Suddenly, Yena got hit by the dark magic and fell to the ground.

"Y-Yena-unnie!"

Minju got shocked after witnessing the incident in front of her. She rushed to the ground to check on Yena's condition.

While Minju was losing her focus on Yena, she also got hit from the back by the dark mages. Her head was bleeding as she was thrown hard to the ground, and soon, her vision became blurry bit by bit.

The dark mages approached Yena and Minju who were lying next to each other, intending to end those girls' life. Yena who was still able to see them coming, but unable to move her body as she was in deep pain. She closed her eyes tightly, ready to accept her fate.

"I-I'm sorry, Minju-yah...I've fail to protect us this time."

******

"Princess Yena, Princess Minju! Are you alright?"

A familiar voice surrounded Yena’s ear while she was closing her eyes tightly, realizing that it must be the voice that would gave her the second chance of sontiinue her live. At the perfect moment before the dark mages could finished them, the royal soldiers made a heroic entrance at the scene where they shot down the luring enemy and saved the girls from a quick death.

Yena who was just getting ready to accept her fate a few seonds ago, opened her eyes with a sigh of relief.

"Oh, General Zhao! You came just in time. I thought that would be the end for us just now," said Yena while lying on the ground.

"The kings has give me order to bring back all six princesses to the palace as soon as possible. They have an important message for all of you," said General Zhao.

Yena just nod to whatever the general said. She was just grateful that she was still breathing air at the moment. General Zhao proceed to gather all the six princesses and bring them back to the palace safely.

All the kings of the six tribes were sitting on their thrones at the main hall of the Oneiric Palace, already waiting to welcome the return of their beloved daughters and the heiresses to their thrones.

"Welcome back, our princesses. We are all very deeply worried about your safety just now. Thank God all of you are still alive."

The kings proceeded to hug their daughters first things first, truly grateful for the fact that none of them were harmed from the attack. The girls also very happy to be able to meet their parents again. Suddenly, Yena remembered something.

"Father, what's the important message that you want to tell us?" asked Yena while being in her father’s arm.

"Oh, about that... I will tell you in a moment, my dear. Princesses, please, take your seats now," ordered Emperor Choi, the king of Pyro nation and the father of Yena.

"As it already came to your knowledge, our kingdom are currently under a great attack of the wicked Shadow tribes. They are indeed a very powerful enemy of us for as long as this kingdom was first established, and I believe today they have came to seek revenge on us over the damned history that happened centuries ago. Here also, I must admit, with the great number of armies they have, along with the dangerous flair of dark magic they possess, we might need a bit more luck on our side in order to defeat them, especially with Lord Drakka as their mastermind. Therefore, after considering those factors in this critical situation, we, the united leaders of Oneiric, has come to a decision that we will send you princesses to the Human Realm for a short while."

The surprising announcement sent all the girls flustered in their seat. None of them had ever been to the human world and never thought that they would have to go in any day of their lifetime.

"B-But, Your Highness...if I may ask... why? What do we have to do there?" asked Eunbi, hankering for a more clear explanation of why the drastic decision was made.

"The decision was made to protect all of you from the attack and also as an insurance to persevere our community in the future. Each of you is the only heiress to our thrones. If anything bad may happen to you within the outcome of this war, then that will mark the fall down of our long-built empire, therefore the deceased of our tribes", explained Emperor Choi.

"But we also want to fight, Father. We can use our power and fighting skills we learnt to help defend our kingdom," addressed Yena in passion.

All the other girls also agreed with Yena. They didn't want to run away to another realm and hiding like a coward while their kingdom was being turned into a pit of clash and bloodshed.

"Forgive us, Princess Yena, but we cannot allow your request. All of you are the most valuable assets to our kingdom at this moment. You might be our only hope to continue the legacy of our empire in the next future. We can’t be certain of what the outcome of this war would be, but in case any of us failed to stand, then you're the one who are destined take our place and bring back glory to our kingdom," told Emperor Kwon.

The six princesses remained silent on their seat. The fact that they would be sent far away from home in a few moment and lived apart from their family in a distinct place was a really hard to swallow pills for them , especially knowing that their parents' life were at high stake in the clash.

"My princesses, please, don't be sad. I promise you, we will still be in touch and we have prepare all your necessity in the Human Realm. You just need to stay there for a while until we put this war to end. We promise everything will be fine and things will go back as they used to be.”

All the girls started to get teary eyes. They would be separated from their parents for a long time and went to a place that was very different from their world. They did not know if they would be able to adapt in human world. Despite all of them possessed power and were physically strong, deep down they were still a young woman who need the love and guidance of their parents.

Suddenly, a loud, thundering noise could be heard from outside the palace, followed with a mild earthquake shaking the ground beneath their feet. Apparently, the dark mages were battling the royal guards at the bridge to force their entry into the majestic house. However, it seemed like the guards would not be able to defend it any longer as the amount and strength of the dark mages was too much for them to defend.

"Quick! Follow us." Emperor Choi and the other five tribal leaders guided them to a hidden door that lead to the basement where the inter-dimensional portal was hidden.

The girls had no choice but to follow the order of their parents. As they hurried down the generous amount of stairs, they could finally saw the teleportation portal that will send them to the human world in the form of big hollow ring sitting on top a square platform. All of them hugs their parents for the last time.

"I'll miss you, Father," whispered Yena to Emperor’ Choi ear as she hugged for the last time. Her voice was trembling as she tried to control her emotions.

"Me too, my princess. Take care. We'll meet again soon, I promise," replied Emperor Choi, while Yena was hugging him tightly.

"And Princess Eunbi, I hope you can become a good leader of your fellow friends there. I believe with the level of maturity you have at your age and also a great value of responsibility, you'll be able to guide your friends and survive there well enough," said Emperor Choi.

Eunbi just nodded her head while trying her best to contain her tears. She knew that she needed to be emotionally and mentally stronger to be able to lead her fellow friends in this new journey. After finished saying their last goodbye, the six princesses stepped onto the designated platform with a heavy heart.

"Best wishes to all of you. We'll be in touch soon."

All six leaders proceed to take their position, circling the platform with the girls standing in the center. They put their hand together while mouthing their sacred tribal chant along with some silent prayers to their late ancestors, gathering a sufficient amount of their elemental energy before before blasting it towards the center of mid-air. As their powers collided, they managed to summon the inter-dimensional gate in the form of a gradually expanding hollow ring, floating on top of the girls’ head with a tremendous scale of energy force field. The earlier stagnant and somber little basement was now illuminated by blinding white lights, together with strong winds whirling across the entire room. As the portal expanded to its limit, signifying it have reached its required amount of energy, a beam of purple light flashed onto the platform where the six girls were standing with their eyes tightly closed and hands locking onto each other’s, teleporting them to a dimension far, far away from their current one within a flash.

After a few seconds, the six girls sensed a new environment around them. It was really calm and quiet, a total far cry from the scene they experienced in the basement a while ago. Only the chirping sound of cicada could be heard, while their nose caught a nature scent of green grasses and wet trunks as soft, cold breeze brushed through their faces. With a mix of nervous and anxious feelings in their chest, the girls slowly re-opened their eyes to uncover the sight of the new world they stepping in, therefore launching off their new journey in what they be thought as the Human Realm.

"So... this is the human world?"

To Be Continued...

***Photo editing clip art credit :

-falling leaves picture in edited photo :

<a href='https://pngtree.com/so/Floating'>Floating png from pngtree.com/</a>

#choiyena #kimminju #kwoneunbi #yabukinako #ahnyujin #miyawakisakura #izone #fanfic #au

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alia-turin · 7 years ago

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So after writing a fic for glaiveweek, an idea came to my mind to grow that fic a bit more. So here it is. I’m starting new series, a mafia AU which basically will cover the lives of most of the glaives from the time they are about 16. I will have slightly different approach to the fic, all chapters will be a bit like stand alone stories, which could be read separately or as a part of the bigger picture. Eventually the fic will grow into Nyche fic, but slowly (sorry) and then Lunyx (sorry). Most of the chapters will be from Luche’s POV, but I’m not excluding the possibility of writing chapter or half a chapter from someone else’s POV. Hope you guys enjoy.

If you want to be tagged, let me know. If you want to be untagged, let me know, no hard feelings, I fully understand that not every fic is everyone’s cup of tea.

Fic Title: The Derelict Chapter: Chapter I Rating: G (some swearing, later chapters might be NSFW, warnings will be posted) Pairing: Luche/Nyx Other characters: Pelna, Clarus, Titus, Libertus, Selena Summary: Sixteen-years-old Luche is throw into real life after losing his part time job at a neighbourhood business. He desperately needs the job,, however finding a new one isn’t as easy as it seems until one day an opportunity runs into him. Tagging: @birdsandivory @jojopitcher @lazarustrashpit @yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy (if that’s not your cup of tea dear, let me know I know you have some objections regarding the story :D ) @kairakara101 @akiza-hades-rose

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Luche walked out of the gym not really sure what to do with himself. He loved his job there and needed the money, but the place was closing down and he had just received his final paycheck. He had to find new job and he had to find it now, but that was easier said than done. He was still in school and preferred to graduate if possible, not that he had any hope for college, that costed money he didn’t have even with scholarships. His mum was going to kill him if he didn’t graduate. But he also needed the money. She needed medication and food had to be put on the table.

“Hey, why the long face?” Nyx appeared as if out of nowhere and pushed him from behind, Luche almost falling down.

“Careful where you walk, asshole.” He grumbled, not being in the mood for any of that.

“Who pissed in your coffee this morning.” Nyx stared walking next to him.

“I just lost the job at the gym.” Luche said very quietly, but his friend heard him.

“What? Why? You were good at that thing. Best receptionist they ever had.” Nyx placed his hand on Luche’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him down, but honestly it didn’t work. He needed work not sympathy.

“They are closing the gym down. They dismissed also all the trainers, cleaners…” he sighed. “They will be selling the equipment on an auction tomorrow. Honestly with all the bigger chains around it is becoming very difficult to stay competitive. I’m stupid, I knew things were going down, but we had customers, I was hoping we could make it.

“Lu, you are one of the smartest guys I know, probably the smartest in our class if not the school. I’m sure you will find something else.” Nyx was his best friend and as such he was there when he needed him, but Luche needed work more than anything right now. “My mum is making dinner tonight, Lib is coming, his dad is nightshift, you should drop by, you can stay for the night if you want.”

“Sure.” The response came a bit automatic without him thinking over it too much. But what was there to think? His mother was in a hospital again, so as soon as he walked home he was going to be all alone in the dark apartment eating leftovers or some microwaved meal.

He never imagined his life going in that direction. When he was a kid he had a normal family, a pretty normal life. His greatest problem usually was forgetting to write his homework or not bringing a book to school. Once he forgot to pay his fine to the library and was charged fifty cents extra. It all went upside down when his father passed away and all the medical issues of his mother started. They have never been rich, but they weren’t poor either. Now things were different. His mother couldn’t work so her only income was social benefits, which was enough to pay for their rent and food, but not for the medical bills and medicine. He had to work and he had been working since he was fourteen. Now he was sixteen and had lost a job for first time, he was sure it wasn’t going to be his last.

As usual Nyx’s mum had prepared the most amazing dinner he had eaten since the last time he was there. Coming to their apartment for meals has always been fun. Nyx and Libertus were his closest friends in school and being at the dinner table with them felt like eating with his two brothers. Not that he had any siblings, but these two were the closest to siblings he would ever have.

“Luche, is it true that your math teacher recommended you for scholarship for a college?” Nyx’s mum asked as she served the last plate on the table and sat with them.

“Ah…” he wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It was true just.

“Absolutely!” Selena, Nyx’s sister responded instead of him. “He was singing Lu’s prizes to the headmaster right before he walked into our class. He used words like exceptional and talented.”

“He was probably talking about someone else.” Libertus said and laughed. “Nothing exceptional about Lu here beside his cheekbones.” Nyx smacked his friend at the back which made him say a loud ‘ouch’ but didn’t stop him from eating.

“That’s a great opportunity!” Nyx’s man continued making Luche feel even more uncomfortable. “I mean with good math grades you can go to MIT, or wherever you want. All the math and computer sciences are in demand right now. You would probably have job offers before you even graduate.”

“You can adopt him, you know.” Nyx pretend that he was annoyed at his mother’s words, but Luche knew better. He turned toward his friend and nodded at him in gratitude. “You are just all over him because he is smarter than me.” Nyx continued dragging the attention to himself, rather than allowing Luche to feel even more uncomfortable.

“I didn’t say you are not smart my dear.” His mum smiled calmly. “But I do recall speaking with your science teacher about three outstanding homeworks that you haven’t submitted yet.”

“I will write them eventually.” Nyx mumbled and dug into his plate.

Next day was Saturday, Luche spent most of his morning looking for work in the neighborhood, but with no luck. Their neighborhood wasn’t exactly wealthy. It was small tightknit community where everyone knew everyone, family businesses were mostly holding their ground against bigger chains but that was coming to an end as he new from first hand experience. Everyone was holding to their jobs as if there were the last straws and he didn’t blame them. Nobody who lived here was exactly rich, most people were passing by and even if the local owners knew him and his family, they didn’t have the resources to hire him. He understood.

His afternoon he decided to give up on his search, he could resume tomorrow. He went to street where Nyx and the others usually hang out and found them kicking a soccer ball around.

“Look who is here!” Libertus greeting him and shook his hand.

“The next Einstein.” Pelna laughed and Luche sighed loudly reminding himself that one day he will have to beat Libertus and his big mouth.

“You still mopping over that girl from the grocery store?” Luche bit back and Pelna suddenly looked as if someone slapped him.

“He has progress today.” Nyx wrapped his arm around Pelna and pretended to strangle him. “He looked at her today and she looked at him back. For three seconds.”

“She is totally into him.” Libertus laughed. “In fact, she is so into him that she couldn’t look at him for more than three seconds.”

They all laughed, Luche including, but Pelna wasn’t very happy that they were making fun of him.

“Hey, Lu!” Nyx shouted and kicked the ball toward him but before he could realize the ball was already passing him and hit a nearby car. Expensive car. The type of car that you don’t even walk next to in case some invisible dust from your coat falls on it and ruins it.

“Fuck.” Nyx froze on his spot, his eyes following the ball that by some weird physical law managed to go under the car.

Luche was the closest so he walked towards the car looking around and making sure nobody saw them. He went close to the car and knelt, seeing the ball right around the middle. He was going to kill Nyx for that. He lied down and reached under the car, grabbing the ball when something or more like someone grabbed his jeans and pulled him up.

“What are you doing, kid?” A big man with expensive suit was folding him and dragged him away from the car forcing him on his feet.

“Just grabbing our ball, sir.” Luche tried to sound as serious as he can, but truth was he was intimidated. The man was taller than him, obviously stronger.

“What’s going on, Titus.” A second man walking from the nearby building and looked at the two of them. Luche wanted to turn around and look for his friends but the man that was holding him was blocking his view.

“Found that kid under the car, mister Amiticia.” The man answered with obvious respect in his voice. Was he a driver? He certainly didn’t look like a driver unless that other man wanted a bear for a driver.

“I was just grabbing our ball!” Luche protested showing the ball to the man.

“What’s your name, kid?” the man asked him.

“Luche Lazarus.” He said a bit unsure. Was he in trouble?

“Lazarus…” the man repeated. “I think I know your father. You study down the road in the high school I assume?” Luche didn’t respond just nodded. “Yeah, your father was on the soccer team. Tell him Clarus Amiticia is sending him his regards.”

“My father passed away three years ago.” Luche looked down as he answered.

“I’m sorry to hear that, kid. He was a good an honest man.” The man reached in his pocket and only then Luche noticed the gun that was tucked in his trousers. “Here.” He gave him a business a card and Luche took it. It had the man’s name, a phone number and an address that was few blocks down the street. “If you need anything, give me a call or stop by at the restaurant.”

Luche watched the two men leave in the car and then slowly turned toward his friends. They were all staring at him as if he had grown a second pair of legs.

“What?” he asked annoyed kicking the ball toward Libertus and putting the business card in his pocket.

“That was Clarus Amiticia.” Pelna whispered as if saying the name will summon the man back. Since Luche apparently didn’t react in any way he continued. “You know how some time ago that neighbourhood was honestly absolutely trash. Like even before our parents were born probably. There was a gang around that slowly put things under control. Their control. Fast forward a bit the son of the gang members is Regis Lucis Caelum, his right-hand man is Clarus Amiticia. They are not a gang anymore of course, haven’t been in some time. Still there are rumors about how they exactly make money.”

“Pfff, Pelna saw someone with fancy car and there must be something dodgy about them.” Nyx laughed. “Pelna, some people who are from here actually manage to succeed. I’m going to be one of them.”

Luche ignored them and looked back towards the car that was long gone by now.

#luche lazarus #nyx ulric #nyche #luche/nyx #mafia au #my writing

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