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fortisfiliae · 4 years

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Promised Part 17 - Tom Riddle x reader

Summary: In this story, Tom didn’t grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader’s sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Disclaimer: Please be aware that I don’t condone any of this in real life. (GIF is not mine)

Warnings: None, finally

Word count: 1.2k

Part 17 - Epilogue

The year after the incident at the chapel in Ramsbury went by very uneventfully compared to your last year at Hogwarts and the weeks after, even though so much was changing. Boring was certainly not the right word to describe it. Everyone involved had wished for a bit of peace and was more than happy to live a quiet life for a bit.

Marvolo’s body had been buried appropriately. A small bribe had been enough to make the Mediwizard who had examined him confirm that he had died naturally, of old age. Marvolo had been right after all, they must have really been a bunch of quacks in St. Mungos.

Morfin wasn’t to be found anywhere. Gaunt Manor had been empty, apart from the two house-elves, when your family, Tom and you had gone there. He must have apparated to the manor after Nagini had attacked him, however. A great amount of Galleons and some potions were missing from his chamber when you searched through it. Hokey and Scrook wouldn’t tell anyone what they had seen - they were still loyal to their Masters. They didn’t want to be freed either, even begged not to be given proper clothes. So Tom gave them to Hepbzibah Smith, an old witch who was known to be an avid collector of magical antiquities and was looking for elves to serve her.

Since Morfin wasn’t there to inherit any of Marvolo’s riches, they were passed down to Tom directly. He owned Gaunt manor now, as well as the mountains of Galleons that were locked up in the Gaunt’s vaults at Gringotts. While Gaunt manor had been tempting to pack your bags and move into, both of you didn’t fancy the thought. The house was linked to countless haunting memories for Tom and despite its enormous size, it was way too cold and rigid for your liking and reminded you too much of the Gaunts themselves.

So Tom sold it to a wealthy family, muggles as far as you were aware, which must have made Marvolo turn over in his grave one last time.

Tom bought a house in your home town shortly after, smaller yet still as boastful as you had expected it to be. It even had a telephone installed, which you didn’t mention to him after you had given him a look when you had seen it, to which he had just shrugged and rolled his eyes.

You didn’t move in with him immediately, as your parents didn’t allow you to leave your home unmarried. They allowed you to visit him, though, and you did so as often as you could.

Life had gone on as it always did and you had gotten a job right after school. The Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers had reached out to you after they had seen your grades and gotten a letter from Professor Slughorn. They had asked if you wanted to be trained to become a Potions Master, which was an honour not many witches and wizards were granted with. It hadn’t taken long for you to accept, so you were in close contact with one of their tutors, a witch by the name of Guiliana Toffana.

Tom had taken on a desk job for the Ministry, which paid well even if it wasn’t the most exciting work to do. He had plans though, wanted to work himself to the top one day. And for all you knew, there was no one stopping him from doing so.

Camille had started working as an assistant at Ollivander’s Wand Shop in Diagon Alley. The year had been hard to bypass for her, as she wasn’t able to see Ben as often. They sent each other owls almost daily and the only thing you worried about was that none of you were in Hogwarts anymore to help Ben out with Herbology. Tom had suggested that your little sister Elsie could help him study, as she had started her first year and had been sorted into Gryffindor.

On 1st July 1946, one year and one day after your almost-wedding, Tom invited you over to his house. You would have lied if you had said you weren’t expecting it. And he met your expectations by getting down on one knee. He asked you to marry him again, 366 days after he had done so the first time. And your answer was different now.

Only a few weeks later - you would have never thought it to be possible to organise a wedding this quickly, well, what a bit of pocket money was able to do - the big day had come.

It couldn’t have been more different from the day in Ramsbury. Your whole family, even the distant aunts and cousins, as well as all of your friends had been invited. Everyone gathered in a small castle north of the Peckforton Hills in Cheshire, where the ceremony and subsequent celebrations were to take place. Even muggles would have described the place as magical. Its old walls and lush, green lawn inside the courtyard reminded you of Hogwarts a lot.

You wore an elegant white dress, not Mother’s, but one that you had picked out yourself. One last look into the mirror before the ceremony would begin and, you even had to admit to yourself, you had never looked better.

Father had to help to calm you down before you entered the chapel with him. Walking down the aisle with the music playing and all eyes fixated on you was scarier than fighting the Gaunts had been. But Father was there by your side, leading you up to the altar safely.

And the moment you spotted Tom waiting for you there, all nerves were soothed. He bit his lip while you approached him slowly, his eyes wandering up and down your figure. A smile, one that even reached up to his eyes, formed on his face and didn’t seem to leave after he had taken in the sight.

Ben, his best man, stood behind him, and only watched Camille, your maid of honour, from the side as tears of joy ran down her face.

The officiant’s speech got drowned out by your thoughts, as you lost yourself in Tom’s eyes, standing face to face with him in front of all of the guests. The way he looked back at you, deeply but still collected, led your mind to wander.

Love surely wasn’t like it was described inside a book, no, but when the people involved were honest and trusting, it could turn out to be even better than words were able to ever describe it. You both had changed so much since you had gotten close. And you were going to change with every day that you would spend together. There was much work to be done still, many compromises to be made and a lot of healing yet to start. But you were sure that with an open heart and a tiny bit of luck, you were going to make it. And you couldn’t wait.

Time had passed by so quickly until now and it would pass by equally as fast from now on. Every day was just another grain of sand falling down the hourglass that was life. But now that every grain had Tom in it, they seemed to drop differently. Happier, more meaningful and full of expectation for what’s to come. Every grain was to be cherished and the two of you promised that to each other when you both said the words. “I do.”

The end.

Well, we’re done :’) I’m a bit sappy, it’s hard for me to let this story go. I actually can’t believe I pushed through and really finished it. 43k words, a short novel. Wow. And I wouldn’t have been able to do it, if all of you hadn’t liked, shared and commented on this story. I really need the feedback and you all were so kind and gave it to me. So, credits to you, we made it. And as always, thank you for reading!

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i-love-hobbies · 3 years

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Eda's reckless behaviour and overall mental health

Summary

Eda is a genius, but is very emotional when making decisions (not anger, but fear, stress ect.)

Her reckless behaviour and apple blood problem in my opinion are her ways of running from reality.

In season 1 she made a bit of progress on this issue. Then the finale happened. Then she made again progress and s2ep7 did a complete reset. And she is making progress now again.

Eda's intelligence

She's been a criminal for thirty years. She has been in the shady business for an extremely long time. Yes magic definitely helps but you also have to find a way to be on top of the game, so you can survive.

Remember Tibbles' shrinking potion. She can't really use a lot of magic if she is shrinked or poisoned and dead, can she? Not to talk about her enemies which you'd think would attack her now that she is magicless.

They haven't on screen, yet. The only ones that tried are Adegast and Tibbles and they both died without her using any magic (or close to nothing).

Now we know that she doesn't make plans a lot on screen. In s2ep3 especially she just let's Luz make the plan but that's because she is her mentor.

In s2ep6 Luz used sleeping needles which is wild magic so no, it's not knowledge coming from Hexside. Also the pickpocketing Luz mentioned.

Teachers don't do the tests instead of students.

She teaches her everything that isn't glyphs. I wouldn't be surprised if she has told stories to Luz about her best "outsmarting everyone in the room" moments.

Now we have seen some of her problem solving on screen. One of which was in ep.18 fight only using her channelled magic trough the staff (im not taking credit for noticing this, have no idea who did though) and used the bridge.

Also if she can telepathically talk to her staff. Owlbert saving Luz was probably her idea.

She had her impact on Raine's rebellion as well, without having magic or turning into a harpy.

"You are not our mom!"

"Wow, we actually helped people this time!"

"Bye, mommy Eda!"

In the back of her head she knows exactly what to do, everytime something happens.

Eda's mental health

Eda's curse and the nightmares it causes. The father incident. The fact that she probably thought Lilith was scared of her.

Lilith's hidden guilt and her taking her father's eye out don't mix well together. I wouldn't be surprised if they barely spoke even if they lived in a house together.

Her losing Raine.

Her faith in the emporer being broken.

She has seen a lot of death, that does impact people.

Season 1

At the beginning of the series she was making a lot of bad choices which don't aline with her experience.

The series starts with her getting caught by Warden Wrath. Instead of just sneaking, they were just walking comfortably in the corridors.

They are kids, one from another dimension, but her... She doesn't know better? And for a paper crown that she can replace by stealing from someone else.

Next episode we are introduced to her morning drink later on confirmed to be for adults only. And that drink didn't get a mention for the rest of the season. In that episode she is also not the most clear-headed. She didn't try to sneak, she didn't use potions. Didn't try to plan.

A list about her being impatient can go on and on.

So when does she think. When she realises it's dangerous (aka when it's right in her face). Literally in the first episode the moment she started doing stuff is when she got caught and spat on the warden's face.

In episode 2 she didn't do that because she didn't know if Luz was alive and had a hard time bottling her feelings. Like if Luz proved to him to be hard to keep tight up he could have killed her, the girl that came back for her and her son yesterday. And she proved to Eda that she is a little dangerous the previous episode with her fireworks.

Eda was rational again, after she was with both King and Luz.

As the series went on though she started to calm down a bit.

Firstly, the fact that she was so focused on fixing her card problem, after Tibbles scammed her, that she trew them away in another dimension.

I was wondering how she overcame it so quickly.

It also shows her knowledge of how to handle this type of problems which brings up a question. How did she learn it?

Secondly let's compare the first half of the season to the second.

1. Everything I already pointed out and was hiding the curse. The stuff that happened in ep.5. Her refusal to be parental in ep.7. Body swapped.

2. She gets scammed again (this time though, how do you expect that someone was digging their own grave). Didn't use a sleeping spell on the slitherbeast immediately instead was just standing there. Got caught by the fun police. Worsened King's stage fright.

In ep.15 because of her ignorance Luz and Amity almost die. Except that is not the full story. She had at this point a lot of faith in Luz and this was her friend's mind.

For Amity it's not that she hated her. Amity actually saved her in ep.12. It's because she wasn't that important for her to realise. "Omg Willow is at the very least extremely mad at her."

It's again a refusal to think, but for a stranger and not really on purpose. It was just a habit of hers.

Episode 18 and 19

At the beginning of the episode. Eda hid the curse, again.

When she learned that Lilith had kidnapped Luz. She didn't try to make a plan. She just revealed herself in all her glory while her magic was disappearing.

Shot the staff in a wall while she was having no idea, what that was supposed to accomplish.

Luz showed up and she finally started thinking.

Afterwards Lilith said we all know what and for the first time Eda's anger was the leader of her choices and Luz almost fell on to the spikes.

So then, for the very least a night, she was stuck in her mind with something, that was chasing her. She woke up to Emporer Baby the B*tch, who was telling her, he was about to go after Luz.

And no she didn't believe in Lilith, but was so overwhelmed. It was insane. So she begged. After some more running, she woke up to Luz in the Comformatoriam.

Next, she was about to get petrified and for awhile this was the calmest things have been since she got caught. Then Lilith shows up (ah yes she existed).

King jumped "She was trying to help!". Wait King was there.

Petrification beam go.

PURE PAIN!

Then she got the idea for all of them to fly away. Lilith shared the curse making the confusion even bigger. Then her magic is gone (that was a thing). She learned that the portal is destroyed. Now she was living with Lilith and might have starved to death with everyone else in the house.

After all of this she not only tried but HAD TO pretend that she was mentally stable, so they could survive this mess.

Season 2A

In episode 1 she told Luz not to go after big bounties and then tried to steal from a coven's ship.

At this point her emotions are the only thing that made decisions while they were also getting hidden. Don't get me wrong she did help and should, especially Luz but it's ALL feelings. She didn't think about consequences, which sometimes are good.

She didn't attack Lilith cause it's just not the time, she's scared from her own anger. Plus she can't really stand being with the roller coaster of emotions, that came with being in one room with her.

This didn't mean she didn't work with her and hadn't listened to the backstory, though.

The episode ends with her and everyone else not being close to dieing. Finally!

So now what? She tried to think about Lilith? Yeah, she probably preferred not to.

Then her glyph almost kills King, but Lilith showed up and helped. This is probably a familiarity she missed. So again she decided not to process it, but it definitely sticks.

She also didn't notice Luz being hurt.

Next episode, we saw Eda taking a shower which means she has healthy coping mechanisms, at least one, self-care and is not yet a workaholic.

Luz's apple blood joke is concerning.

After the events of episode 3. Luz probably told her that Lilith stayed with her and King, instead of just leaving them, get killed by Jean-Luc.

Then Eda still isn't certain where she stands about everything and Lilith just left, with her final act being, giving King mental issues.

Throughout this whole thing her mom was there with her cures/annual accidental attempt to kill her favourite daughter.

In this episode, Eda fell for apple blood signs. Rationality is out of the window.

In ep.6 she decided to help, with students getting palisman. Again not thinking about all the trauma, but finally doing something against her first instinct.

In ep.7 she heard King's "Le-" and refused to fully process, where the heck is he gonna go.

She also punched someone, cause this is gonna work?

Now she has reconnected with Raine having no idea should she even think of a romantic relationship again? And decided to be useful at least for something since she "can't raise kids".

She was helping and being very good at it, but it came from fear of loneliness.

Then she heard that Belos has a plan and just is overwhelmed. What if the kids get hurt, is she powerless?

Oh, look! Raine might be dead!

Next episode she overworked herself.

In between ep.8 and 9 she was trying to scare the beast into transforming. (She is losing her sanity. Literally the previous episode told her not to do that.)

In episode 9 again it's all emotional. She wants to feel better and be stronger, so she told King to blast her (almost blasting Amity), hit fool's blood even though Amity said the lake is further ahead.

Luckily she showed progress too.

She ate voles, which was against how she was feeling.

In ep.10 she was scared of letting Luz in the portal. I'm not saying she wouldn't have before, but I don't think it was easy.

Right now, after s2ep10, I think she isn't the most mentally stable. But she is definitely working on it.

#toh #the owl house #eda clawthorne #toh eda #eda the owl lady #edalyn clawthorne #the owl lady #toh lilith

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comehomeducklings · 3 years

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Past [Part 2] (Obsession)

A/N: Some chapters will be named with either “Past,” “Present,” or “Future,” then their numbered part coming right after it. This is to confuse you less when flashbacks or anything happens. As you have probably noticed, it says “Past” for Part 2. This is going back near when Tom and her just met. Thank you for reading! <3

Tom Riddle's Moodboard

Main Character's Moodboard

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1940 - 3rd year

“Potions is not that bad, I swear. You just have to be good at measuring.”

At the table, my friends and I are discussing our classes this year. Potions being one of my favorite topics. Devyn absolutely loathes that certain class. We have to drag her there to make sure she doesn’t skip. Poor girl tries her best to not mess up but the cauldron always ends up blowing up. I even watched her do every step once, never missing a beat. The potion still ended up failing, even though she did everything correctly. She gave up after a while, who wouldn’t. I help her do extra assignments for extra credit to keep her grade up. She also studies with me to make sure she can memorize everything and pass her tests. Amelia is pretty good at the class, she’s luckily paired with Devyn most of the time. Carrying the potion to success, with a little bit of my secret help. It’s not cheating, it’s using your resources.

I’m resources.

“Potions is not that bad,” Devyn mocks me. “If it weren’t for you two I would have gone insane in that stupid class.”

Amelia just laughs at her while eating her hash browns on the plate. She reaches her hand out to take some more eggs.

“You were able to do it before. Not the way you were supposed to, but it worked,” Amelia says.

“Exactly, just start doing it your way at this point. I don’t think Slughorn will care how it’s done, just how it comes out.”

Devyn nods her head and points at me with a fork. Her mouth full of food so she settles for that response. My plate doesn’t have much other than some bacon and fruit. I’m not usually a breakfast eater. I get my appetite at lunch and dinner time. It’s just too early for a bunch of food smells, the smells make me kind of nauseous. I’ll eat though, enough to hold me off till lunch.

The chatter in the lunchroom rises by the minute. Everyone refilling themselves before their busy day. All energy levels rising while everyone wakes up from their groggy morning mood. While my friends finish eating we continue to talk about our classes and share the schedules for this year. Most classes we had were the same except for our electives. I tried taking as many electives as possible. My family back home never really did magic. I actually came a year and a half late since my family wanted me to have a normal school experience. I learned to do everything without the use of magic, the only thing my mom taught me was the floo network, creatures, and plants. I would often accompany her to Diagon Alley when she shops. I got an Owl for my 10th birthday. A cat would have been amazing if I wasn’t allergic to it. My owl is a brown and white-furred barn owl. Don’t ask me why I named it Bartholomew. I was ten okay, give me a break. Speaking of the floo network, my mom had to chase me through it quite often because I kept teleporting everywhere. I once ran into the Ministry of Magic’s building and got lost. They had to take me home to my parents. Their faces told me everything I needed to know about the punishment waiting for me.

Halfway through the second year is when I came to Hogwarts, a second letter coming that year asking my parents to let me learn more there. So when they finally let me attend, everything was pretty new to me. My mother was the magic one in the family. Her grandmother, my great-grandmother, before her had the magic gene. Going to school was the same experience as going from a muggle-borns perspective. The difference is, I knew more about its existence. I would look at yearbooks my mom had from when she went here. She earned a lot of titles, all the achievements being recorded down. I always wondered why she never wanted me to come here. Did something happen to me, to her? I’m guessing she just wanted a normal life with dad. He has always supported her through everything. A love, a bond like that is hard to come by. He would also learn about magic right next to me. At least, the stuff my mom allowed to let us know.

That’s why I want to learn as much as I can, of what’s available. Why learn math in the muggle world when I could be learning divination. Spells of all types, potions for everything of inconvenience. My chores could be completed with just a flick of my wand. I’ve lately been learning wandless magic, on my own. Albus has helped by providing me with material to study that type of magic. The only thing I’ve managed so far is a spark coming from the tips of my fingertips. Sparking hope that I could actually, maybe, achieve that level. Now I won't get my hopes up, but that can lead me to a certain advantage in dueling. That being one of my weakest skills. Always panicking, saying any spells that pop up in my mind, and making random movements coming from my wand. Often confusing who I’m up against, although they recover from that confusion fairly quickly.

Riddle, met him once. One too many if you would ask me. I dissuade ever wanting to speak to him. Arrogance and pride flow through his tongue like second nature. I do take pride in succeeding above him in 3 classes. He is 2 classes above me but, that’s not the point. I do admit, he’s attractive. Only a little though, how else would he charm his way through the professors and students.

“Alright, I’m ready to go. You guys done?”

“Yeah,” I say. Devyn and I start leaving our seats and heading towards the huge doors.

Amelia hurried from her seat, a few steps behind since she took some fruit with her to eat on the way. More and more students also started making their way towards the first period. Not wanting to be blamed for the loss of house points. This system causes so many fights, everyone’s competitive side getting the best of their common sense. I would be lying if I said it didn’t get the best of me before. Amelia being her usual bubbly self skips backward while chatting with us. Before we could warn her to stop, she pushes someone ahead of her. Both falling down, hitting the floor. She spins her head extremely quickly, her hair sticking in her mouth from the force of the wind.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” she explains. Quickly trying to digest her situation. I make my way towards her and pull her up. I fix her robe and dust off any dirt on the cloth from the floor.

“Clearly idiot, can you not use those bug eyes of yours to see?”

Devyn and I make eye contact. We understand that there are witnesses here, and one of them is bound to snitch on us if we fight. A huge scene would probably make Amelia feel even more embarrassed as well. Instead, I guided Amelia by her back. We continue on to class while I comfort her. Devyn is staying back to “talk” to the guy. Lestrange is in for it now, any poor soul would be when in the fiery path of her anger.

Devyn’s loud yells could still be slightly heard when entering the potions classroom. First class of the year, and day. On Slughorn’s table, I can see a vial with the wideye potion contained inside. I set Devyn’s textbook on her station, turning to the page that contains information on the potion. Hoping to save her confusion and time.

“Welcome, welcome! Nice to see some old faces, and new ones,” he says with the biggest grin on his face. “Today we’ll be learning about the Wideye potion. Can anyone tell me what this potion does?”

I quickly raise my hand, rather eager. I did some reading about a lot of potions during the summer. Trying to get a headstart on my studies. This potion being one of them. Only 3 students raised their hand, one of them being me. The other, well, Riddle.

“Yes, go ahead and answer,” the professor looks my way.

I smile, “The wideye potion prevents the person consuming the liquid the ability to fall asleep. Which is often used in the medical field to wake someone from a sleep caused by a blunt force or drug.”

“Precisely! 10 points.”

I look back rather smugly at Riddle, rather happy I got chosen instead of him. I know, he could have easily answered that too. I’ll let myself bask in the small achievement for now. 30 minutes of class is just spent writing down notes, preparing us for the potion we will make. Note-taking is my favorite, especially the little doodles I get to make. We use a feather instead of the regular pen. I found it rather amusing and liked the certain feeling of writing with it. The dipping noise that the point of the feather makes when hitting the liquid ink is a very profound sound. No real writer’s bump forming on my fingers.

“That’s enough writing, I need you all to prepare your cauldron, gather the materials you need, and start your potion. If done correctly, tomorrow when we add the finishing touches and check on it the potion should be a blue/green color,” Slughorn comments. “You have 10 minutes to study your notes, then the rest of the class to make your potion. No looking back at your notes after those ten minutes.”

After scanning my notes, I stand up and walk towards the ingredients on the shelves. If I remember correctly my potion requires snake fangs, standard ingredient, and wolfsbane. I gather all that in my hand and set it down near my cauldron. Before I start, I take a moment. I’m missing something, I’m sure there was another ingredient.

Wolfsbane, check.

Snake fangs, six of them.

I have the measures of Standard ingredient.

There’s one more, I try to look around the room. Then I remember that we get an automatic failing grade if caught cheating. There’s no way I’ll let my grade drop like that. Over something so small and inconvenient too. Making my way to the shelves, I scan over the ingredients over and over again. Trying to see if any of the names pop out to me.

No.

Definitely not.

That’s an ingredient?

I don’t even want to know how that one was obtained.

This one, of course it’s this one. I even remember putting a star next to the name in my notebook. Dried Billwig stings, I believe six of them were needed. All that time wasted. Hurrying to my seat I get to work. The time goes by quickly, all that could be heard was the sizzling and whooshing of our potions. I almost knocked down my vials a couple of times. Someone actually did, their time spent on cleaning the glass off the floor. After heating the first three ingredients, I crush them together in the mortar. Then stir clockwise from what I recall, three times specifically. Finally, I wave my wand over then leave it to brew.

Just in time from the looks of it. I glance at Devyn to see how it went for her, and she looks pretty proud of herself. I take that as a blessing that it didn’t blow up this time of round. I’m guessing she took our advice and did it her own way.

A student raises his hand, “May we leave?”

“Oh yes yes, go ahead. No assignments for the first day, only the potion you made in class.”

Before I leave the classroom I examine Riddle’s station. He already left the room. His potion looks similar to how mine turned out, his workspace thoroughly cleaned. Everything used properly placed back to where it should be. Perfectly spotless, not a single speck of dust in sight. All done without magic too, surprising for someone born into the wizarding world. When I mentioned that I met him once, it wasn’t much of anything. The only way I know how he really acts is through other people. Much admire his intelligence and strong will. Others are jealous of the potential he holds for the future.

Girls are already trying to slip love potions into his drinks. I would feel bad if he wasn’t so rude to them. Only just before touching the disrespectful line. He almost drank one of their attempts before. Wouldn’t want to imagine how that turned out. Tom riddle, in love. That man probably doesn’t know the feeling of happiness, let alone love. I feel bad for his future girlfriend, she’s going to have to deal with a handful of baggage.

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“How much do you want to bet Nott will demolish him?” A Gryffindor girl to my left whispers.

Nott, part of Riddle’s group from what I’ve seen. They all eat lunch together and talk to one another so it’s a reasonable guess. Very talented duellist, one of the bests here.

“I hate to admit it, but he’ll definitely win this. I’ll still have hope for the other guy though,” I whisper back trying not to sound mean.

Nott and the other Slytherin boy are up right now. It’s a courtesy for the audience to stay quiet until someone casts the first attack or defense. From then on all you will hear is shouting of encouragement and the opposite. Nott’s eyes are focused, zoning in on the opponent before him. His wand is steady, mouth slightly parted to breathe through better. Whole-body alert and tense waiting for something. From what I'm getting, I believe he’s waiting for the Slytherin boy to go first. Nott casts spells quickly and thinks them through decently. Sometimes you're not able to create a counter-spell quick enough to defend yourself against him.

Riddle’s group and himself are near the corner of the platform. All seemingly analyzing every breath he inhales and exhales. I finally hear the whoosh of a wand and a whiz of light fly past the platform. The glow from the spell lighting our faces for a millisecond. Nott quickly counters that spell and moves to cast his own. Magic flies across the platform, all of our eyes going back and forth like a ping-pong match. The Slytherin boy starts breaking a sweat. He’s only been able to get a couple of offensive spells in there, most of his plays spent throwing off Nott’s. If he doesn’t turn the battle soon, the outcome will become very clear.

It is a little less exciting since we only know a handful of spells. So whatever you know from your own studies you use in these duels. When we move up the years the class will become more serious and dangerous. Right now it’s just to teach us how to counter and cast quickly. The proper etiquette and movement. You use spells that you know, they aren’t supposed to harm someone. Either stun them, make them fly back, or disarm. Most of those spells require a little of a higher level, most of us not even knowing of its existence yet. So what’s mostly cast between competitors is a basic spell to exert force. That force should be aimed for the legs, or the wand to disarm that way. The way someone can win here is to make their knees or hands touch the floor, or disarm their wand. As I mentioned, it will get more intense as time goes by. We're only just starting 3rd year right now, a lot more charms will be learned later on.

I shake my head to get rid of any lingering thoughts. My attention goes right back to the duel taking place in front of me. Nott quickly aims a spell at the knees and manages to bring the other boy to his knees.

“Mr. Nott wins this duel! Please step off the platform, we will evaluate your performance.”

During the practice duels today, you watch it, think of ways to help the person improve, and point out things they might have done wrong. At the end, the professor picks people raising their hands to allow them to give their feedback. Participating is part of the grade you get in here. I personally prefer giving feedback then dueling. I’m not the best at casting, I do give out good defense spells though. That should mean something, I hope.

“Let’s start with Nott, does anyone have feedback for him?”

A couple of people spread apart raised their hands. One by one they all ask questions and give feedback. They mention his feet and posture when he stands. Arms fully stretched out where it would have been more flexible to bend it slightly. When he casts he shouldn’t be walking backward. They shortly switch to the other boy’s questions and feedback. The way he never gave himself the opening to cast an offensive spell often. He would move around his area a lot. Almost slipping off the stage during one of those movements. Tom and his group privately discussed with one another. They’re probably giving Nott their own feedback and suggestions privately.

“Now, Riddle I want you to come up and…,” he scans the room for another student. After some time he points his finger at me. “You.”

I could have had a smooth sailing class. I was so close to not having to go up there. My hands start sweating a bit, my anxiety jumbling my thoughts together. Riddle’s already up there and soon to be on his side of the platform. Taking his wand out and wandering his fingers over the design. I gulp, a big toad stuck in my throat. I wipe my hands on my robe and start up the stairs. Riddle seems as unbothered as ever. We bow, turn, then walk ten paces back. During this time I try predicting who will cast first. I don’t know him very well, I’ve also never seen him duel.

I take my dueling stance and wait for the signal to start. Hoping, praying, that I don’t embarrass myself. Slipping up is not allowed, not when going against him.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

Taglist:

@empath-bunny

#tom riddle x oc #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #lord voldemort #death eaters #voldemort #horcrux #hogwarts #harry potter #wizard #post wizarding war #enemies to allies #enemies to lovers #angst #oc #poc #Oc is any race #moldy voldy

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flowercrown-bard · 3 years

Text

I Scream a Truth, You Hear a Lie - part 1/ 5

This is a gift for the most amazing @ban-aard <3

pairing: Geraskier

summary: When some bigoted man insists that Geralt can’t feel love, Jaskier blurts out that they are married - which they very much aren’t. So naturally, Geralt and Jaskier have to pretend to be husbands to convince people that Geralt is lovable, though no one doubts that more than Geralt himself.

word count:~3k

content warning: some self-deprication

read on AO3

Alright, so it hadn’t been Jaskier’s most brilliant idea. One might even go so far as to say it was one of his worst ones, but in his defence, he had been tired, a teeny tiny bit drunk and majorly pissed off.

All throughout the evening Jaskier had to listen to stupid comments about witchers. No matter how many tales of Geralt’s heroic deeds he sang, Erik, the man who had given Geralt the contract he was currently risking his life on, kept insulting witchers, the fucking hypocrite.

Throughout it all Jaskier was forced to clench his teeth and continue singing. The most he could do was through death glares at the man and hope he choked on his ale. It wouldn’t do to disrupt his performance, not when they still needed the money to rent a room once Geralt came back, even though it made Jaskier’s blood boil to know people still spread lies about his friend. He came far too close to just stopping his performance and call the contractor out on his lies in front of the entire tavern.

As luck would have it, he didn’t need to.

Just as Jaskier’s last song came to a close the doors opened and Geralt came in, heading straight to the bearded man whose eyes grew wide as he took in Geralt’s black eyes and blood-splattered skin.

He must have been too scared to protest or swindle Geralt into giving him less coin.

Jaskier watched on in smug satisfaction, though he couldn’t pretend not to feel a pang when Geralt didn’t even spare him a single glance before leaving the tavern. As the doors fell close behind him Jaskier hurried to follow him, but he stopped dead in his tracks when the hated voice chimed up once again, louder now that Geralt had left the room.

“Thank the gods we’re rid of him now. Gives me the creeps.”

Jaskier whirled around and fixed him with a raging snarl. “Maybe next time, he should just stay out of this town and not help you when your people are dying then?”

The man scoffed. “You know that’s not what I mean. I don’t mind his kind, but I don’t want them here for Marijan’s Day. No one does.”

“He just risked his life for you. If anything, you should be throwing a feast in his honour. The least you can do is not be arseholes and let him stay for your festival.”

“Listen, bard, this is a celebration of love. What does someone like him even want there? Everyone knows those mutants don’t –

“Finish that sentence, I dare you.” Jaskier’s eyes narrowed and he prayed Geralt was already far enough away to not hear any of what the man was saying.

“It’s true though isn’t it? Witchers don’t feel and no one would love them anyway so what would be the point?”

“Excuse me.” Jaskier’s voice became deadly cold. “Geralt is living proof that that’s a load of bullshit.”

Erik took a swig of his pint and fixed Jaskier with an almost pitying look. “Sorry to tell you, lad, but just because it’s painfully obvious that you adore the mutant like a loyal puppy doesn’t mean he feels anything for you.”

Jaskier could barely stop himself from flinching back. Those words hit too close. They were too true. How many nights has he lied awake wishing it were different? Maybe it would have been easier if it were true and witchers really didn’t feel. Then at least it wouldn’t have been Jaskier’s fault that Geralt couldn’t love him.

The thought hurt and it set his blood on fire and it made him lose all control over what his mouth was saying.

“Are you telling me my husband doesn’t love me? Is that what you’re saying?”

A wheezing sound left the man as he choked on his drink, but the small amount of satisfaction Jaskier got from it was short lived. “Your what?”

“My husband,” Jaskier said, firmer this time, consequences be damned. It’s not like sticking with what he had said would make this mess any worse. “And I will take him with me to your oh so wonderful festival and you can all see just how loving and brilliant and lovable he is!”

As soon as the words had left him, he regretted them. This could only end in disaster.

Convincing Geralt to accompany him to a celebration was hard enough, but with what Jaskier had just said? Geralt would rip his head right off when he found out. But like hell would Jaskier let these people continue slandering Geralt. He would do what he could to make them take back their poisonous words and if it tore his heart out in the process, so be it.

Geralt kept his head down as best he could as he entered the tavern. He had heard the whispers as he had approached and he felt his chest tighten as they all came to a suspicious halt once he entered the room. He didn’t need to smell the fear to know he wasn’t wanted here. Bitter guilt rose up in him. Only moments before, Jaskier had put on a performance and captivated the audience and now all eyes were on Geralt, no one caring about Jaskier the way they should.

He hurried to get his money and leave. It took all of his will power not to look at Jaskier. The thought of him waiting for Geralt’s return had gotten him through the fight and coming back to him was the best part of any contract.

And yet, despite all the times Jaskier had seen him dirty, with torn clothes and the toxins pumping through his blood, he couldn’t look him in the eyes now. Not in front of all these people. It was different when it was just the two of them in a room far away from prying eyes, but with everyone looking at Geralt … Jaskier wouldn’t want to be associated with the sight of him like this. It would expose any lies he told about Geralt’s valiant character.

So he left without chancing a glance at him, though he felt Jaskier’s eyes burning into his back.

Leaving the crowded tavern and the disgusted stares behind was freeing, though there was an insistent part of him that told him to go back. He didn’t, but he couldn’t stop himself from lingering just outside the door. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would get to hear Jaskier strike up a new song, would hear the excitement in his voice as the rush of a performance overtook him.

What he heard instead made his heart sink like a stone.

“Thank the gods we’re rid of him now. Gives me the creeps.”

Of course. What else could he have expected? Geralt was used to hearing such things, but it didn’t make them sting any less. For years he had been able to just lock those comments away and pretend they didn’t bother them, but ever since travelling with Jaskier this seemed impossible. Because one could only hear so many times that the man they travelled with was a monster before starting to believe it themselves. One day, Jaskier would begin to doubt. He would realise that if so many people agreed on what Geralt was, maybe he was in the wrong saying that Geralt was anything better.

With a bitter taste in his mouth and a painfully tight chest he listened to Jaskier defend him. It eased something inside him, dislodged a strangling heaviness in his lungs that made it hard to breathe.

Until –

“It’s true though isn’t it? Witchers don’t feel and no one would love them anyway so what would be the point?”

Geralt staggered backwards. He couldn’t think, he just left -fled – those words ringing in his ears. He couldn’t stay to listen what Jaskier would say, if there even was something he could say.

For while the first part couldn’t be more untrue – the pangs shooting through Geralt’s heart all the proof needed that witchers could feel – no one, not even Jaskier who stood up for witchers where he could, could argue with the second part. Not when merely a minute ago Geralt had stood before him, his black eyes and unnaturally pale skin an unmistakable reminder of what he was. Not even Jaskier who was so full of love to give every one – everyone but him - would ever be able to love him.

For a sick second Geralt was almost grateful for hearing those words that had been said with such condescension and conviction. He had needed to hear them, needed the reminder. Too close had he gotten to letting himself forget. Too close to letting himself hope that Jaskier could –

He shook the thought off before thinking it fully and entered the inn, storming off into their room and shutting the door much louder than he would have if Jaskier had been there.

The loud bang of the door snapping shut did nothing to disrupt the thoughts still swirling in his mind. Even now with distance and walls between him and the venomous words he couldn’t shake them off.

What would be the point?

He scoffed into the silence of his lonely room. Yes, what was the point of all of it? Of letting Jaskier travel with him, of relishing every laugh shared and every moment spend together as if he could keep Jaskier in his life, when he knew that he didn’t even have him – would never have him. Not in the selfish and impossible way that he wanted.

His mind still hadn’t quieted down when the door opened again and Jaskier peeked into the room. Geralt’s heart skipped a beat at how carefully quiet Jaskier was.

“The potion’s still making everything too loud?” he asked softly.

Geralt grunted in denial.

Jaskier let out a relieved sigh and went over to him, sitting down on the bed. Geralt’s chest grew tight when he saw how much space Jaskier had left between them, how he avoided Geralt’s eyes and how his hands never stayed still. Geralt wanted to reach out and lay a hand on Jaskier’s to calm his fidgeting. Instead he balled his hand into a fist at his side.

All he had hoped for was some peace and quiet. Some rest, with Jaskier talking about his day while Geralt let his voice lull him off into sleep.

Now though it seemed he would get none of it. Jaskier was obviously nervous and uncomfortable with Geralt around. The words of hate and bigotry had finally seeped into Jaskier’s mind now that he hadn’t been able to find any plausible reply to the claim that witchers were unlovable.

“So,” Jaskier said after a long stretch of uncomfortable silence. “there’s a festival in a couple of days.”

Geralt grunted. Of course he knew about that. As if the bustling preparations hadn’t been enough to tip him off, Jaskier’s unceasing rambling about the festival and its renown that had people travel from neighbouring countries just to see the festivities made sure that Geralt knew about it. The knowledge that the festival was threatened by the presence of the monsters Geralt had been told to get rid of had only made him more determined to finish the contrast as fast as possible. There was nothing as motivating as the excited way Jaskier was grinning when he spoke of something he was looking forward to and Geralt hadn’t been able to risk the festival falling through.

“And – as I’m sure you can imagine – I would very much like to go.”

“Then go,” Geralt said, though his heart clenched painfully. “I won’t bother you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I- what? Of course you won’t bother me. You never do. I was just… you see the thing is…” Jaskier’s voice trailed off uncertainly and his eyes flickered over to Geralt for a brief moment. It was enough to see the hints of anxiety in them.

He had never been afraid of him. Not until now apparently.

“You don’t have to explain. It’s all quite clear,” Geralt said and turned his face into the impassive mask that he had hoped he wouldn’t need around Jaskier anymore. “You want to have a good time at the festival and me being there would make that impossible.” When Jaskier opened his mouth to protest, Geralt added, “I heard what that man said. I’m not wanted there. Or in this town at all. So I’ll leave.” I won’t ruin this for you, he didn’t say.

Jaskier’s brows pinched together and he turned to face Geralt completely, suddenly sickly pale. “Geralt….how much exactly did you hear?”

Geralt shrugged, though his throat had gotten tight. Don’t make me say it. Don’t make me say out loud that you can’t love me.

When he didn’t receive a satisfactory reply, Jaskier huffed. “Because I think you missed a crucial part of that conversation. Yes, I want to go to the festival – one might even say I need to – but I can’t go alone.”

Geralt huffed. “Because it’s a ‘celebration of love’? I didn’t think finding a partner would be a problem for you.” The words came out more bitter than he had intended and he risked a look at Jaskier, praying that he hadn’t noticed.

Jaskier rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Very funny. If you need to know, there were in fact at least three lovely people in that tavern who I’m sure would love my company for the feast.”

“Go ask them then.” Geralt forced the words out from between his teeth. There went all hope of having a restful sleep that night. How could he sleep when he knew that other people needed to do no more than look at Jaskier to gain his heart?

“I’m afraid I need you specifically to come with me.”

No matter how much his heart ached or how much Geralt fought against it, he couldn’t keep the smirk from tugging at his lips. “Have you somehow managed to piss off someone already? Jaskier, we’ve been here for two days.” The smirk grew wider when offended noises left Jaskier’s lips. “And I told you I’m done playing your bodyguard. That was a one-time thing.”

Jaskier perked up. “Well, then it’s a good thing it’s not me we’d be protecting.”

Something sharp and ugly reared its head inside Geralt. “No,” he said, voice hard. “I am not going to protect one of your dalliances. Who you decide to bed is your business, as is what happens to them.”

Don’t ask this of me. Don’t make me watch you flirt and kiss and be happy with someone else, even if only for this one day.

And yet, even as Geralt said it, he knew he would do it if Jaskier asked again, if he shifted closer and his eyes took on that pleading look that Geralt wasn’t strong enough to withstand. If Jaskier looked like he really needed this of him, he would give it to him like the fool that he was, even as it would tear into his heart like the claws of a beast.

Jaskier let out a frustrated sigh and shut his eyes tightly.

“I need you to be my husband.” The words were rushed and quiet, as if speaking them like this would make Geralt miss them.

Geralt’s thoughts came to a screeching halt and his mouth went dry. He couldn’t have heard correctly. All of those stupid wishes and hopeless dreams must have made him mishear.

“Jaskier?” He couldn’t say more than that. Anything but that one name might show the whirlwind of emotions inside him. He feared the name alone could have been too much already.

“Not really, of course,” Jaskier added hastily and rubbed his fingers together. “I… please don’t be mad at me, Geralt.”

Geralt’s brows knitted together and his heart sank. “What did you do?”

“I – I might have said that we were married.”

“Us married?” Geralt let out a sharp laugh that held no mirth. “Us married. I thought you were a master of words, how can you come up with such an obvious lie?”

The words stung as he spoke them and the dagger they plunged into his chest twisted when Jaskier winced. How else could Jaskier react, having thrown his stupid lie back in his face, probably only just now realising how horrible being married to Geralt truly would be.

“You said you wouldn’t be mad.” Jaskier’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Geralt raked a hand through his hair, frustration eating at him. “I never said that. But I’m not. I just don’t understand why you would do such a thing.”

Jaskier’s eyes blazed. “Because they were being arseholes!” His voice got louder with each word. “No matter what I did, no matter how often I told them about how good you are, they just kept saying things and I – I’m sorry, but I panicked and the words just slipped out.”

Just slipped out. As if the sole idea of them being anything more than friends wasn’t enough to drive Geralt mad. But saying it out loud, letting the words just slip out, as if it wasn’t something earthshattering…

“That won’t change anything,” Geralt said as evenly as he could. “Just because you said that doesn’t mean you’ll have to take me to the festival. I’m sure you’ll come up with some excuse as to why your husband isn’t with you and you can still have your fun.”

“That’s not what –“ Jaskier bit his lip and a hint of red tinted his cheeks. “It’s not about me having fun. It’s about proving to them that you are not what they say you are.”

Geralt was almost tempted to ask him what exactly that was, to hear Jaskier say the words that dug into Geralt’s chest out loud, but Jaskier looked so crestfallen, as if the thought of what people said physically pained him.

And why wouldn’t it? The wonderful idiot had made it his life’s work to improve Geralt’s reputation, and out of all the things that could be said about Jaskier, he was stubborn beyond compare – likely the main reason why he was still suffering Geralt’s company after all these years. Of course Jaskier wouldn’t like hearing people slander the thing he had dedicated his life to. Though those insults and scoffs were aimed at Geralt, they too hit Jaskier, told him he wasn’t good enough at what he was doing.

Geralt sighed. “Jaskier, you don’t need to do something that would make you uncomfortable just to proof something to them. They – it’s not worth it.”

“It is.” Jaskier’s eyes were determined. “Geralt please. Just for the festival. Please pretend you’re in love with me.”

Geralt’s breath hitched. There were reasons why this was a horrible idea. There were consequences that would surely come off this.

But the thought of being allowed to show even just a fraction of what he felt for Jaskier, even if just for one day, overshadowed all rational thought. It would hurt, it would break him, but just for that one day it would be worth it if it meant knowing what it would be like to feel that look that Jaskier gifted everyone else on him.

Afraid of the emotion that he wouldn’t be able to hide if he opened his mouth, Geralt only nodded.

Jaskier beamed at him and Geralt’s stomach clenched uncomfortably. He was not going to make it thought this with his heart in one piece.

But he could do it even if it was torture. It was just one day.

#geraskier #fake dating #fake marriage #witcher #witcher fanfiction #fic #my writing #I scream a truth you hear a lie #gift for a friend #geraltxjaskier #mutual pining #geralt #jaskier

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thatsassyhufflepuff · 3 years

Text

Hello!

It is currently past midnight. I decided to make a post where I’d put all my favorite Dramione quotes so I can look back on them and squeal. That’s all.

✨✨✨

1. “You love fighting with me just as I love fighting with you, that’s why we do it so well.” He smirked down at her and pressed a kiss to her lips. “This house is just as much yours as it is mine, I’m sorry I made you feel anything less than that.” His thumb traced the edges of her lips before she reached up and took his hand in hers.”

2. “Hey, hey, none of that.” He gently admonished, “Granger, I can’t tell you whether or not we moved in too soon. I can say that this feels right, waking up with you, going to bed with you, even cleaning up all the hair you shed in the shower- how are you not bald? I am convinced your hair has magical properties all on its own-'' He grunted when she smacked him in the side. “What I mean is Granger, I want you for a long time, longer than I’ve ever wanted anyone else if I’m being honest. I’d have been kidding myself if I thought falling in love with a swotty pain in the arse Gryffindor would’ve been easy.”

Transformation

happy_valley

—

1. “Expecting a challenge--some tired but emphatic refusal to take Muggle medicine--I braced myself for the inevitable argument. He turned his head to my hand resting on his shoulder, kissed a knuckle, and went back to sleep.

I didn't stop shaking until I reached the Boots.”

2. “and given how I feel about you, you'd think I'd do everything in my power to ruin your marriage. Having him believe it was you acting on his behalf, seizing an opportunity that was tailor-made for him will not get me what I want. Sadly, the opposite is also true. I know you don't believe me, but I actually thought making him happy would make you happy.”

3. “I am not most women," I pointed out. "Hence the slapping."

"No, I admit they broke the mold when they made you. That's why I'm absolutely madly in love with you. Head over heels. Dizzy with desire. Crazy--”

4. “He shrugged and his mouth flattened into a line. "It's been a grim few months. I'm only human. Have I told you that I love it when you're stern with me? Your mouth gets all prissy and adorable. Like you've eaten a sweet lemon. A silly metaphor but somehow apt." He pursed his lips”

5. “Someday I hope you'll look at me, and I won't see that half-second of disgust with which your gaze always greets me. Anyway, it's not true. I want you because I love you.”

6. “He kissed me on the forehead and then despite his previous admission, he wrapped me in an embrace, his breath hot against my ear. "I love you. I know you don't believe me, but I do. And aside from the fact you are beautiful and smart and articulate and sexy, most importantly, you're the only person I know who has the guts and determination to stop me from becoming my father."

The Politician's Wife

pir8fancier

—

1. “After what felt like a lifetime and at the same time a split second, they parted, gazing into one another’s eyes with the passion they both felt. Hermione’s eyes implored him to say what she wanted him to say – that this wasn’t the end, that they would have another chance, that he wouldn’t give up – but he couldn’t lie to her. He would never lie to her.”

2. “Hermione just stared at the floor, biting her lip and feeling as though every dream she had ever had had been crushed. Maybe it had. “I wanted to save you,” she whispered, finally meeting his gaze. “I wanted to save you.”

Draco stepped forward, taking one moment more to touch her face with the back of his hand and memorize the deep brown of her eyes. “You did,” he said simply.

And there was no more to be said”

3. “Draco didn’t let her finish. His hands cradled her head as he kissed her, softly as first just like the night before, and then harder, with more passion and intensity. She returned the kiss with everything in her might, trying to say what she wanted to say – “I love you” – without words”

4. “She wasn’t going to give up though. Hope was in front of her now, and she had almost been afraid that such a thing was lost to her forever. Draco may have given up on saving himself, but Hermione wasn’t about to do the same. She loved him – that she knew for sure – and she was going to make sure Draco got his second chance.

She’d die before she let anything tell her otherwise.”

5. “I’m not leaving without you,” she said firmly. He didn’t reply, just set his mouth in a firm line. She wished she could make him feel what she felt – a certainty that this wasn’t the end for him, that she was going to fight until her last breath to give him the freedom he had suffered for. She wanted to reach out and hold him, to cradle his face in her hands and tell him that they would make it to the end together.

“This is your time, Hermione,” he said, reaching out and taking one of her hands in both of his. “This is what you’ve been waiting for.”

“It’s your time, too,” she said, and she hoped she sounded as confident as she felt. “This is your second chance.”

6. “Draco gave her an imploring look, gripping her upper arms and forcing her to look right into his eyes. “Hermione, you know how I feel. I’ve never told you, but you must know. So when I tell you that dying for you and your cause and my cause is the closest I’ll ever get to being whole again, believe me.” He paused, reaching his hand up to push the straggling bangs out of Hermione’s eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Hermione Granger, and I can never thank you enough. So just let me help you in the only way I know how.”

7. “Hermione could feel tears forming in her eyes, and she quickly reached up to pull Draco into her arms. He held onto her tightly, trying to memorize every detail of her for the last time. When they pulled away, Draco swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked into her warm brown eyes. There’s never enough time for us.”

8. “You may not have forgiven yourself,” Hermione whispered to him, laying her face against his shoulder as he shook with sobs. “But we already have. One day, you’ll learn to see yourself the way we do.”

Bittersweet and Strange

UndiscoveredQueen19

—

“Hermione, I love you." She didn't smile, she didn't say anything back either. She just kept looking up at him. He wondered she even heard him. He knew it was wrong to say it in this moment, but he didn't know if either of them would survive. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you until now. But I love you. So much." He kissed her forehead.”

A Future Uncertain

LightsWrites

—

“Suddenly, Draco laughed, a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you? Well, I guess it’s the least I owe you.”

He leaned closer to her, looking straight into her eyes, and she suddenly felt the urge to draw back and run away. She made herself sit still.

“I love you, Hermione. I think I have for a long time,”

Seven Years and a Day

Dark Rose

—

“She was half expecting him to just walk through the door but Draco surprised her when he suddenly turned around and returned to her side. She lifted an eyebrow but before she could say anything, Draco drew her into a hug.

“Goodnight.” His whisper tickled her ear.

She could barely return his hug when Draco pulled away with an impish grin. She knew he knew she was going to think of him for the rest of the night. ‘Darn it. Bloody Draco Malfoy.”

A cornucopia of noncoincidences

muffin_reverie

—

“Draco..." She felt a little uneasy.

"I love you." He had said it before, but the words had never sounded so fierce. "I won't let him hurt you.”

Alternate History

Furare

—

“You’re beautiful and compassionate and funny and… I know you probably hear it all the time but you’re brilliant and I plan on telling you that every bloody day. You make me want to buy a shop and sell potions and make my own way in this world doing something I love and something I excel at, but it’s more than that it’s… it’s…”

She waited him out.

“It’s bells on a hill with you, Granger.”

Bells on a Hill

HeyJude19

—

1. “Draco opened the door the rest of the way and pulled her into his arms; he held her tightly as if he would never let her go, as if he could push all the hurt away. She could feel his heart beating and its constant rhythm soothed her, as did the steady rise and fall of his chest. Gradually her sobs slowed, then stopped. She pulled away from him, wiping her eyes.

"Do you want us to stay?" he asked quietly. She shook her head, and he tilted her chin so their gaze met. "Hermione, will you be okay today? Tell me the truth. I hate that we're leaving you alone today."

She looked into his eyes and saw deep concern and worry. "Yes," she said weakly. "Thank you."

Draco wrapped her in his arms again, then released her and leaned down and kissed her forehead. "See you soon." He turned and left her standing there before he lost the ability and the resolve to leave.”

2. “Harry scrunched his nose in distaste. "How can you watch that rubbish?"

"It's actually really good, Potter."

"Whatever." Harry studied Hermione. She looked so peaceful that it hurt him to think of what was ahead for her, for all of them, really. "She's beautiful."

Draco looked at her as well, and without thinking about what he was doing, said, "Yeah, she is.”

3. “Hermione scowled and continued to hit him, but stopped yelling. Draco carried her into the house, up the stairs, and into her room. He set her down on the bed. She tried to get up; he grabbed her wrists and held her down.

She struggled, but when she looked into Draco's eyes, she saw they were wet. She lay still, holding his gaze.

"Don't make me Immobilize you."

She nodded. He released her wrists and took one of her hands in his. "I promise to come back, if you promise to stay," he said softly.”

4. “He kissed her with everything he had, all the fear, longing, pain, and joy he felt. He kissed her because he was scared to die, and he too wanted to see where this would go. He kissed her because of the secrets he kept from her, willing her to trust him, to believe him, to know that he would tell her. He told her he loved her, he would do anything for her, would die for her, would even try to live for her.”

We Learned the Sea

floorcoaster

—

1. “You are mine, Hermione, I don’t want anyone mistaking you for single again or even thinking of trying to coax you away from me.” He laid his hand on her cheek, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “Granger…Hermione…I love you.”

2. “The look of shock on her face matched his own. He hadn’t meant to say that, hadn’t even realized that he had those feelings for her, that he would recognize them as such. He was in unfamiliar waters and suddenly scared to death. He meant them, he loved her, and it terrified him because he had never loved anyone before.”

Something In the Way She Moves

Snapes_Godess

—

“Draco leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together and nuzzled her nose.

“Take it. Take my heart, and take the remainder of my soul as well. You can even filet my heart and crush my soul if you wish. It doesn’t matter, since in actuality, they’ve probably been already yours to break for a very long time.”

5 am, waking up

mysterious_intentions

—

“The deflated bits of his countenance inflated with her admission, until he felt as though he would float through the air. Moving his hands along the curves of her sides, he pulled her flush against his chest. "I love you, Hermione."

The admission left him in a single breath, causing Hermione to arch her back so that she could look him in the eye. She searched his depths, seemingly inspecting for any sign of deception. Finding none, a smile spread across her face. "I love you, too.”

I Carry Your Heart

TheMourningMadam

—

#draco malfoy #harry potter #draco fluff #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfiction #dramione #draco x hermione

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george-fabian-weasley · 4 years

Text

Fred Weasley — Helplessly Part 3

Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Fred was rushed to he muggle hospital for better treatment of his injuries. While in a coma, his soul stayed with you for a couple of months. He watches as you went through the stages. And he watches when you start to write a song, just for him.

Words: 2, 681 words

Warnings ⚠ : I don’t think this fic will have anything BUT sadness and constant pain and heartbreaks sdhsjd im sORRY

Disclaimer: This one... hurts a lot

TAGLIST FOR HELPLESSLY: HERE

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 (COMING SOON!)

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

CHAPTER 3: I'll Follow You

He woke up alone.

Fred Weasley woke up with no idea where he was. ‘This… This isn’t Hogwarts?’ he thought. The fluorescent light above him was a bit bright, yet he didn’t feel like he needed to adjust his eyes. Fred blinked, wasn’t he in the middle of a war? The last thing he remembered was saying words to Percy before-

Before the walls.

He tried to move, and was surprised that he can, with complete ease. ‘Wow, and here I thought getting crashed by walls would hurt a lot.’ He thought, scoffing a smile. How the bloody hell did he feel no pain? Absolute brilliant! He sat up from the bed, looking around, looked like a hospital ward.

Strange, he’s in a hospital but he didn’t feel any pain. Was he visiting someone? That’s not likely, innit?

And then Fred heard the constant beeping. He looked to his right, there’s a peculiar machine showing a line going up and down. Then his eyes darted to a wire connected to it, and then followed his eyes until the very end.

A hand.

Fred tilted his head, slightly confused. He blinked a few times. He just woke up in a hospital… And he saw a beeping muggle tech machine… and now there’s a hand…. Whose hand is it?

He looked to the hand, that hand looked awfully familiar, looking like George’s. But George’s hand is less calloused than this one. So naturally, Fred sees the owner of the hand when he turned around.

It’s… It’s him.

Fred felt the blood draining from his face, his heart felt like it did a somersault and a fucking split to the ground. He instantly jumped out of the bed in shock, his eyes were the size of two golf balls. Even with bandages, he knew that was him.

It… It could be George, though. But that thought was quickly thrown out the window. He’s lived with the man all his life; he knew they were both very different physically. Fred was, rightfully to be frank, terrified.

Why was he there? In bandages? If that’s him, then what the hell is he doing standing here?! Fred walked closer to ‘himself’, thinking to himself that this might be some prank George pulled on him, Polyjuice potion and all. Upon thinking that, Fred relaxed; actually convinced his brother was pranking him.

“Ha, ha. Funny.” Fred muttered; a relieved smile painted upon his lips. For one second there, he really thought he had gone crazy. He looked around, “Oh, Georgie? Where are you, you little git?” He sang playfully, chuckling to himself. This prank was a great one though, he had to admit.

Fred’s eyes darted back to the man on the bed. He smirked to himself, wondering who did George had successfully coaxed to drink that nasty Polyjuice to turn into him. His mind instantly thought of you, and his smirk widened.

“Oh, goodness. Why is there another me here? I wonder?” Fred faked a shocked voice while simultaneously walking closer to the man, whom he had convinced himself was you under the Polyjuice potion. When ‘you’ didn’t react, he chuckled a little bit more, “I know it’s you, darling. C’mon now, trying to prank Fred Weasley? The prankster himself? Really, love?”

He reached his hand to touch ‘yours’, only to realize his hand literally went through it. Fred frowned, he reached again. His hand went through the other hand, again. At first, Fred thought this was some sort of magic going on, a hologram at some sort, but the one who looked like a hologram was him.

“Bloody hell-“ Fred inched away fast; his feet stepped back a few steps in newfound fear. He looked around hastily, “This isn’t funny anymore, George. Knock it off!” He shouted across the room, yet nothing happened. He looked back to ‘you’, “Y/N, you can wake up now. This isn’t funny.” When ‘you’ didn’t react, Fred gulped. “Y/N!” He called again.

“Fred!!!”

Fred snapped his head upwards, his heart dropped at the sound of your wail. “Y/N…?” He whispered in horror, eyes darting back to the man on the bed, “Who the bloody hell are you…?”

Fred heard your scream again, and quickly without any thinking ran out of the ward, looking left and right at the unfamiliar surroundings. Suddenly, he saw Bill. He was with Fleur, looking distraught and anxious to the group of nurses at the counter, who instantly got to their feet, some calling the doctors while some followed Bill and Fleur.

He instantly followed them, “Bill!” He kept calling his older brother, but Bill didn’t seem to notice. Fred was far back, yet he kept calling for him. “William Arthur Weasley, you deaf git!” He muttered under his breath, gritting his teeth. He grew more anxious when he heard your screams getting louder, “Fred!!!! Let go of me!!!”

“Y/N?! Y/N!!!” He shouted back, he had lost Bill among the people, yet he kept following until he reached a ward. “Freddie!!!!” You were screaming, with tears non-stop scrolling down your cheeks, a strand of saliva was visible at your mouth, showing how many times you had called for him.

A group of doctors had pinned you down, and quickly injected you with something, making Fred furrowed his eyes in anger, “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?!” He shouted. He looked at the surroundings of the room, everyone was there.

Why was Molly crying hugging Hermione? And why was George just standing there?

“George! What are they doing to Y/N? Why aren’t you doing anything?!” He shouted, yet George seemed to ignore him. His heart tore apart every time you screamed his name, you were looking very distraught, and scared, and anxious.

He literally ran to be beside you, kneeling to the ground, “Y/N, love, I’m here.”

Yet you kept crying, until it slowed down, “Please, I need to see Freddie… He almost died in my arms, please…” was your last whimper before you passed out. Fred frowned, “Y/N, darling, I’m here! I’m not dead, I’m here-“

His hands that were to cup your face went through you.

Feeling fear right about now is the understatement of the century. Fred had never felt so horrified, in his life. Not even when he was fighting the Death Eaters a while ago, not even when the walls shattered him. This… This is terrifying.

He turned his head to the group of people who were now lifting unconscious you back to bed. He stood up slowly, gulping as he took in your state. You had heavy eye-bags, your skin was pale, and you looked exhausted. Yet you never failed to make his heart flutter at the very sight of you.

As if adding oil to the fire, Harry who was beside him just stood up and bloody walked through him. Not walk past him, through him. As if he’s just a ghost.

Fred froze. Is that what he is now? A ghost? Like Peeves and Moaning Myrtle? He quickly looked down at his body, checking himself. No, he isn’t glowy blue, nor is he see-through. Fred was confused and terrified, and that two feelings together were never a good mix.

“I told you it’s a bad idea to tell Y/N so soon, George.” Fred turned to Ron who was looking to George who looked distressed. “Now’s not the right time for you to pick up a fight with me, Ron,” George growled; his eyes were dark. Fred realized George’s state was similar to yours. In fact, everyone looked exhausted. His heart broke at the sight of the quietly crying Molly who was still in Hermione’s arms.

“You could’ve told it later.” Ron, ignoring his brother’s warning earlier, continued with silent rage. “Ronald,” Hermione warned, glaring at him. “Then what am I supposed to do, you bastard? Is it your twin who’s in a bloody coma and your best friend hyperventilating, losing their mind? Am I supposed to carry this burden alone, huh you git? You’re fucking 18, Ron, use your bloody brain for once.” George snapped and walked out of the ward, seemingly wanted to cool off.

Hang on. What did he just say?

Fred gripped the bed railings to balance himself, his head suddenly went dizzy. “Coma? Me?” He whispered, not believing his ears. So the man earlier, that was really him? Not you under the Polyjuice potion? So, him standing in your ward right now, what was he? A ghost? A million thoughts swarmed Fred, he felt his chest tightened and he almost couldn’t breathe.

“Why did you have to do that, Ron?” Hermione sighed out, Molly had just calmed down and excused herself to the bathroom. Ron didn’t answer her, and just walked out after looking solemnly in your direction.

Harry sighed, “I’ll go get him.” He said, glancing at sleeping you, and left the ward. Slowly, the ward became empty, and the only ones there were Fred and you. His grip on the bed become tighter at the sight of you.

“F… Freddie…” Suddenly you mumbled out, and a tear rolled down to your sides. Fred was beyond devastated, heartbroken even. You looked so miserable, and Fred wanted nothing more than to hug you, caress your hair, and just whisper sweet nothings to you.

“I’m… I’m here, love.” His voice quivering, his hands trembled severely. He wanted to kiss your forehead, but the fear of his lips not touching your skin scared him more than ever. He wanted to wipe your tears away, so bad. Without warning, his own tears scrolled down his cheeks. But the tears never drop to the floor, they just vanished into thin air the moment they left his face.

Fred felt a painful tug in his heart, he was beyond devastated. You were right there, and he could see you, but you couldn’t see him.

No one could.

The thought of being invisible made Fred’s crying worsened. He started to scream within his cries, begging anyone to just listen to him or actually notice he’s there. Fred wailed, screamed, shouted, with tears running profusely, the saliva in his mouth kept coming out as a result of his excessive breakdown.

He was screaming his heart out, yet no one was listening.

Fred had to crouch down beside your bed as his knees turned weak, his head facing the ground, silently begging to see if one of his many tears would plop to the ground, and actually wet them. But the moment they jumped from the edge of his face; his tears vanished.

Fred calmed down a few minutes later, he was growing exhausted from the mental breakdown he just had. He stood up trembling, his mind still distraught and disheveled, and his eyes softly darted to you.

He weakly smiled, “At least I got to see you, love.”

A week passed and Fred had accepted the fact that he was indeed in a coma, and his soul was out of his body, resulting in him to be like… this.

But it wasn’t easy for him.

He had to watch Molly and George take turns to look after him and Y/N, and they seemingly took turns crying for both of you. Fred was sobbing in the corner of his ward when Molly was crying while wiping his body, the view of his mother crying over him was absolutely heart-breaking. Molly was the first woman in his life, and he dreaded the fact that he couldn’t hug her, nor even touch her.

He also discovered that his body would also cry whenever he’s crying, resulting in Molly crying even harder as she realized her unconscious son was also crying silently. His heartbeat would also match his body’s heartbeat. When he was having a breakdown at Y/N’s ward a while ago, his heartbeat was very fast, causing the beeping machine to enhance its pace.

So Fred had jumped to the conclusion that somehow, he and his body are still connected. And with that being said, he’s not a ghost. Only a lost soul.

Fred would always visit your ward. He couldn’t sleep, but he would close his eyes at night so that his heartbeat won’t increase rapidly, in order not to worry his family. He would smile whenever you smile, just silently watching you communicating with Hermione. But as soon as he realized that you had nightmares at night, he couldn’t sleep after that.

So he would sit at the empty chair beside your bed whenever it’s empty, and just watch you sleep. When it’s time that you woke up crying, Fred was grateful that Hermione was there to calm you down, he couldn’t even describe the pain in his heart when he sees you so distraught.

And it broke his heart, even more, when he found out the nightmare involved him.

You were… suffering because of him, and Fred had never felt guiltier. He had also discovered that he could touch objects, he just couldn’t touch humans, which explained why he woke up laying on a bed, instead of sinking. He didn’t do anything to you though, he was afraid it would worsen your condition.

That night came along. For the nth time, Fred felt his heart breaking at the sight of you sobbing on Hermione’s arm, once again attacked by the same reoccurring nightmare. When you begged Hermione to go see him, he had expected Hermione to say no, that’s what she’s been saying for the past week.

It’s a pleasant surprise when Hermione agreed.

You didn’t know, but Fred walked beside you and Hermione, watching your every step so you wouldn’t trip. He knew how weak your legs were, he was there when the doctors explained your condition to Molly. If it wasn’t for him being invisible, it would look like Fred was worrying for you at every step you took. He quietly smiled to himself, knowing it would annoy the hell out of you whenever he does that.

“Hello, Freddie.” Your quiet voice made a slight tug on his heart. You were holding his hand, and it was killing Fred that he couldn’t feel your touch. Or your warmth. He had to control his tears when you begin to sob on his body, his cold hand became the resting place for your forehead as you leaned forward.

He had never wanted to touch you so badly, and it’s torturing him to control his tears because he knew the body would cry as well, and he didn’t want to sadden you any further. No words could describe the pain in his heart, and how fast his heartbeat is becoming. You didn’t notice, seemingly had filtered out the beeping sound from your mind to focus on your lover.

“I missed you, darling. I’ve missed you so much…” He heard you whisper while caressing his face. Fred was right in front of you, the only thing between you two was his static body on the bed.

Fred forced out a chuckle, faking the laugh so his tears won’t come out instead, “You have no idea how much I missed you as well, my love. No idea…” When you left, after kissing his knuckles, that’s when Fred broke down. He had never cried loudly before, courtesy of sharing a house with several people for years, but when he does, it was refreshing.

But he had never felt so alone.

So he understood your feeling when he saw you leaning against your bedroom door, crying in the dark at your apartment once you’ve been discharged. He decided to follow you home because he couldn’t bear staying at that cold, lonely hospital any longer.

His home was you; you were his home and you still are.

And his heart bleeds; because he knew he was your home as well. And while he’s right there in front of you, sitting across you with tears in his eyes, begging you to see him so you won’t cry out of agony again, you didn’t know.

You would never know.

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

PART 4: READ

TAGLIST:

@paigeyisme @britishspidey @hargreevesgrace @jasminweasley @neutralgoodval @kaidenceweasley @igotabadfeelingabouteverything @123happyllama @nicole-prz @phuvioqhile @ionlycamehereforfanfics @martalol @mccloudchloe @hufflepuffzutara @weasleysangel

190 notes · View notes

crystalelemental · 2 years

Note

Thanks a lot! I knew Barry had the potential to be great (that's why I went all the way to 5* him) but damn, even then he still surprised me too. And I like him a lot.

Yeah, the Cobalion one is very nasty. I brought BP Erika in hopes I could cheese him with Toxic and Trap (especially since SS Red is kinda squishy), and since Cobalion only had a bit of health left. It recovered shortly after and got Antitoxin AND Flameproof, I was so upset, but thankfully SS Red managed to take Cobalion down.

Also regarding your recent Gauntlet posts, I think we have opposite luck in case of Potion MPR. In my case, Skyla, who has double MPR on Potion, now hardly ever procs it, which is why my second Azelf run took a lot of attempts. Everyone else, even those who only have 1 MPR like Hop and Morty proc it very often. No idea what's wrong with my luck, but I just find it rather hilarious.

Amazing job to reach 24 win streak! Maybe I will try again some other time too!

Cobalion's rough just because of that status requirement. It's really tough to keep the guy statused, especially when he recovers midway through every health bar and starts with such high burn and poison resistance. You're pretty locked to paralysis and sleep. Sleep is really good (Agatha and SS Red actually helped a lot in my last match, even though it wound up taking like 3 teams to finish), and Paralysis is solid, but sleep is inaccurate and paralysis finite. So definitely tough, but I think Azelf is still my big of toughest fight.

We definitely do, it seems. At least on that one. Potions are always a pain, I never get the MPR when I need it, but I get it like a million times when it barely matters. Just absurd.

And thank you! We ended at 26, with the last two clears being multiple teams of effort, but I'm considering this my cap for rewards. I'll likely try farming some stuff with the super successful teams and see if I can stock up on some cookies. I used so many of the Deluxe cookies just on H!Caitlin and Kimono Jasmine, so like...sure gonna suck if Dawn/Cresselia is support and has built-in Vigilance like they would if they're trying to be geared toward the new mode.

#books-are-my-life-stuff

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twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

Text

Pure Blood 34 (Sirius Black x F!Oc)

Words: 2, 299

Warnings: Injuries. Domestic violence. Pain. Trauma

Masterlist:

Chapter 33. chapter 35

The voices are far away. I feel my body shiver from time to time and several hands touch me. I try to open my eyes, but the light hurts. I want to speak, but only a groan comes out of my mouth. My throat burns, my lungs are desperate for air.

I move my hand, a stabbing pain runs through my body, like lightning, spreading from my legs all the way up to my head. I complain again, I hear voices more clearly.

"Persephone, stay still, please…”

That's Jane. I'm with Jane. Why?

"Persephone, stop moving, you will hurt yourself more,” I feel hands on my arms and I growl. "If you listen to me, squeeze my hand,” I feel her hand on mine. I obey her orders. "Good girl. I know you have questions, your body has gone through a lot. I'll give you a potion so you can sleep. But I need you to stop fighting. You’re safe…”

Her tone sounds desperate, so I stopped moving. Then a liquid passes my lips and travels down my throat.

***

The second time I woke up, I was able to open my eyes. I find myself in an unfamiliar room, the curtains are closed and it is only me, lying on a bed.

I sigh now feeling that my lungs can work better, but with every minute that it takes, the pain keeps coming back, especially in my left arm. I stir by letting out a groan, it doesn't take long for the door to open, illuminating the room a bit for a few seconds.

“How nice that you are awake. I was already worrying, ”says Jane.

I hear him drag a chair to get closer to the bed.

"Jane" I say hoarsely.

"No, don't talk yet" she scolds me. "I will explain everything to you, but first I will heal your wounds"

***

My left arm is broken, I have two broken ribs, almost and that affects my lungs. Many bruises all over my body, my right cheekbone is swollen, I have a cut on my left ear, and several displaced cuts everywhere.

That is the diagnosis or the "simplest" way in which Jane could explain it to me. The healing is horrible and with every salve, potion and bandage change I feel like my bones are about to shatter into a thousand pieces. My screams echo through the room, only when Jane is done do I feel the burning in my throat.

The worst fight against my father happened at my house on the same day that I returned for Christmas holidays. That has been a week. Juno and my mother were on the side of Ares. They helped him, they agreed that I deserved something like that. Balder was another accomplice, he was responsible for various injuries.

I don't remember every detail, until now, in my dreams, green flashes arrive, screams, curses, and pain.

Apollo arrived just before they could assassinate me. My own family.

I’m with Apollo, Jane and Atlas. My parents don't know where I am and they don't want to know. To them, I am dead. Just like Sirius, but worse.

***

"You must walk a bit.”

"I've already done it.”

"Not just to go to the bathroom, Persephone."

“It hurts every time I breathe. I can't walk, Jane,” I growl looking at the ceiling.

She sighs.

"I know it hurts, but if you don't start moving, it’ll be worse.”

"This could not be worse.”

“Persephone…”

"Leave me alone.”

***

“Sirius wrote to me. Actually, all your friends have,” says Apollo. He’s sitting next to my bed with a book in hand. I don't respond and continue eating. “They’re worried about you. You should answer them.”

"They wrote to you,” I reply.

"If you keep sulking in your misery, you won't be able to go back to school."

"Maybe I don't want to go back…”

"That's a lie and you know it,” I shrug. He shakes his head. "Listen," he leans and takes the tray away from me. “You know I'm not like Jane and maybe I'm not the right person to encourage you to keep going. But you know the consequences very well. You’re not stupid and you’re no longer a kid. Go out, play with Atlas, write to your friends, do something. You are free, Persephone, although it may not feel like it.”

***

“I spoke to Dumbledore, you’re allowed to miss the first week. I told him that your body needs more time.”

"What if I don't return?"

Jane sighs.

"Your friends would miss you.”

"Forget the other people. What would happen to me? What if I don't finish school?"

"I can't see the future.”

“Try."

“No,” She answers raising her voice. “What you’re doing is not right. You demand answers that you know already. You cannot hide forever. Neither your brother nor I will allow it. Allow your head to think of someone other than you, Persephone. Think that a war is coming, and that we need every wizard and witch to be able to stop it.”

"Do you know about that?" She nods. "The order of the phoenix?" She nods again. "You said you talked to Dumbledore…”

“Yes, he came yesterday. I don't know how he found out. Your parents tried to hide any scandal…”

"He knew," I whisper.

"What?"

“Before the holidays, he said that he would help me with whatever I needed. He knew something was going to happen. That's why he called me to be part of the Order.”

It would be pretty stupid to tell the whole plan to a girl with parents involved on the wrong side.

I make a face.

"Crafty old man.”

"Persephone!"

“What?"

***

In the early morning, I sit up in bed and crawl to the end, I raise my hand and move the curtain. I see the huge garden outside my brother's house, the plants and flowers are illuminated by the dark sky

Today I would be waiting for the train to return to Hogwarts with my friends, with Sirius. But I'm still in bed with my left arm bandaged. Some cuts have closed and the swelling went down.

Physically I am improving and I want to believe that mentally too. My brother and his wife are right, I know they are. It's different from the last time things got tense between my family. This time I fought back, I was strong, but there is something that stops me.

Fear.

Although I’m no longer part of the family, I had never thought to leave them, not even when the whole show started. All my life I admired my father, I admired the loyalty and the dedication that other generations had for me to be in that place.

But now I know it was all a sham. Unnecessary sacrifices, death, murderers, the purity of blood and hatred.

I am free.

It doesn't feel good, but I don't see it as a bad thing either. It was necessary. This is all very complicated for a 17-year-old girl.

Someone cries and interrupts my thoughts. I sigh and get up slowly. My weak body slides towards the door and I open it. I walk until I get to the blue door next to mine.

Atlas is sitting on his bed, holding the railing. He's over a year old, but he still can't get out of the children's prison. Even though the bars are lower.

"What is it, nephew?"

“Monsters," He whispers between hiccups.

"Where?" He points to his closet. I nod and limping a bit I go towards it. I open the two doors and check every corner in detail.

“There's nothing here,” I inform him.

"O’tside?"

I lean out of his window and shook my head.

He sighs in relief. I move the railing so I can sit on the mattress.

"Better?" He nods with a smile. He takes off the covers and crawls over to me. He looks at my bandaged arm.

"It hurt?" He asks pointing at it.

“Yes.”

He pouts, with the help of my good arm he gets up on the bed and kisses my cheek leaving a trail of drool. That makes me laugh.

"Bettur?"

"Yes, thank you, darling.”

He nods, sits down again, but it doesn't last long. He carefully sits on my lap, wraps his arms around my neck and rests his head on my chest.

"Buv u, aunti phony,” He whispers into my chest.

"I love you too, Atlas.”

***

"Are you sure this block doesn't go here?" I ask him not very sure of the construction of the castle.

"Mine!" He squeals.

"Yes, I understood that, but it will fall if you put it like that.”

"Yes?" I nod. “Okay.”

“It'll be a problem to share his toys, right?" Jane says sitting down on the grass in front of me.

“So far, he’s only lend me the green blocks. I don't think it's his favorite color. But if he's with other kids, maybe he'll change,” I shrug.

"Well, he’ll have to get used to it soon.”

I turn to see her and she smiles at me.

“You're pregnant?"

"Two months.”

I raise my eyebrows.

"Don't you have anything else to do?" I tease and she nudges my leg lightly. "Does the selfish midget already know?" I ask pointing to the blond castle maker.

"We told him, but I don't think he cares."

I laugh.

“Atlas," I call. "Do you want a brother or sister?"

"I don’ know.”

"Another baby in the house so you can play?”

"With aunti phony!” He points out laughing.

"It's progress,” I nod.

Atlas turns to his blocks.

Jane takes my hand, I return my gaze to her.

"You have visitors," She points out.

I lift my gaze and my breath catches at the sight of Sirius leaning against the frame of the door. His hands inside the pockets of his school pants.

"How long has he been there?" I ask Jane.

"Couple of minutes,” She gets up and walks into the house, not before saying something to Sirius. He nods and takes the blonde's place. Atlas feels the change and turns to look at him closely.

"Did you run away from school?" I ask.

“No, James's parents brought us. Dumbledore agreed.”

I nod.

He looks at me, smiles sideways and takes my hand.

“You'll come back?"

"I should,” I stroke his hand. “Yes, I’ll go back. It’ll be very strange, but I have to finish. Apollo told me that he'll send me off if I don't come back.”

Sirius laughs.

"No," says Atlas trying to remove Sirius's hand.

“Hey, selfish. Don't be rude,” I let go of Sirius and stroke my nephew's blond hair. “Greet the visitor! Atlas, this is my boyfriend, Sirius. Sirius, this is my nephew Atlas.”

Sirius smiles and tries to touch the baby's hand, but he pulls away a bit.

“Mine," he says pointing at me.

"Great, I have competition.”

"Better come in,” I turn to the baby. "I can't carry you, buddy. You'll have to trust Sirius,” I stand up and the baby looks at me confused. "Tomorrow we continue with the castle.”

Atlas pulls on my pants to get up, but he has a hard time. Sirius kneels in front of him. He searches through his pockets and pulls a figure out of them.

A black dog carved out of wood. He shows it to my nephew.

"How about a peace offering?"

Atlas looks at the figure and smiles. He takes it and Sirius takes the opportunity to carry him in his arms.

"Well played. Did you really bring the figure for him?" I ask him walking towards the house.

"It's not much, but since we planned this trip, I wanted to give him something.”

We both walked in.

Apollo and Jane are sitting in an armchair in front of another couple, and in another chair I ese James.

Jane takes her son to his room.

"You can do this if you really want to, Persephone,” says Apollo without deviating.

I sigh and nod. He smiles and gets up to hug me.

"Thank you," I whisper against his chest.

When we part, he kisses my forehead, then he leaves me in full view of the other guests.

“Normally, I wouldn't be so cheesy, but you look terrible and I'm a new man now,” says James hugging me. "You're pretty tough for a Slytherin,” I laugh and we part.

"Percy, these are Fleamont and Euphemia. James's parents,” Sirius introduces us. He puts a hand on my waist.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you," I shook hands with them.

"The pleasure is all ours, darling,” says Fleamont

"They have told us much about you," continues Eufemia. "And I must say that you are more beautiful than I could imagine, even with all that our Sirius told us…”

I look at the aforementioned who is now blushing.

"Thank you, Mrs. Potter," I say laughing.

“It's true, although sometimes h exaggerated. Sometimes I wondered if we were talking about the same girl,” adds James.

"James!" His mother scolds him.

Apollo laughs.

"What did I miss?" says Jane.

Suddenly I feel a strong dizziness. I take Sirius's hand for support.

"You're good?" Sirius asks. I shake my head.

The laughter ends and Apollo approaches. They both lead me to an armchair. Sirius sits on the armrest.

"I'm sorry. It was just a dizziness and nausea, something common lately,” I comment.

“Dizziness and nausea?" James asks. "Anything you want to say, Padfoot?" He points out.

"Don't be an idiot, Prongs.”

"They act like children," says Eufemia. "Behave yourselves, boys!”

"He started," Sirius mumbles.

"He called me an idiot, mum!” James replies.

"I can't believe I actually missed this,” I say laughing.

Taglist:

@treestarrrrrrrr @siriuslysirius1107 @madmaiden2890 @ren-ela @avipshamitra @auroraawrites @findzelda @lizlil @siriusmuch @chloe-geoghegan1 @reverse-hxlland @may-rapp @the-specific-oceans @eveft @secret-obsessions

@xkonpinkx @inkandpen22 @thagreenmoon

@littledeadgirlwalking

@yunloyal

@bloodorangemoonlight

#Pure Blood #Sirius Black #Sirius Black x reader #Persephone Singh #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Regulus Black #Lily Evans #Harry Potter #Harry Potter fanfic #twoidiots writing

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tigerkirby215 · 3 years

Text

5e Poppy, the Keeper of the Hammer build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Joshua “HUGEnFAST” Brian Smith and Jason Chan. Made for Riot Games.)

Uh so basically I played Poppy for the first time like last month. And I really enjoyed her. So here’s a Poppy build I’m writing a month in advance. I know Doran’s & Dragons have done a Poppy build but again our views differ slightly and while I think their build is good (and I got some inspiration from it) I’d like to put my own spin on the build too!

By the way check out their Kayn build! To this day my Kayn build is still one of my favorite builds (I just really like Horizon Walker ngl lol) and their build takes it in a similar yet unique direction.

GOALS

Shieldy~ - Poppy may just be a yordle with a hammer but she’s also got a shield to chuck at people.

You; sit - We’ll need stuns and slows to hold the line against legions of foes.

No getting through me - We’ll need to be able to hold the line and annoy any and every champion with a dash.

RACE

Poppy is a yordle which means holy shit I get to use something other than Variant Human. We’ll be going with a Stout Halfling for Poppy to give her some sturdiness as well as some yordle magic. You’d normally get a +2 to Dexterity but thanks to Tasha’s we can put that +2 into Strength instead. You also get +1 to Constitution thanks to your subrace, as well as Stout Resilience for advantage against poisons and resistance to poison damage.

As a Halfling you are Brave for advantage against being frightened, and have Halfling Nimbleness to move through the spaces of creatures that are one size larger than you (which considering that you’re Small is most creatures.) But of course the main appeal of Halflings is their Lucky trait, letting you reroll Natural 1s as the light of both Demacia and Bandle City guides you.

ABILITY SCORES

15; STRENGTH - You swing a hammer that’s about the same size as your body which the strongest men (and women) in Demacia can’t lift.

14; CHARISMA - Poppy is a cute little bean. So cute in fact that not even Vayne will shoot her; and Vayne shoots everyone! (Daily reminder that Vayne sucks and Vayne mains suck #FuckVayne)

13; CONSTITUTION - Poppy is a tank and along with the +1 from our race this will give us a nice health buffer.

12; DEXTERITY - Poppy isn’t the most mobile in-game but she still needs to be able to quickly bodycheck people into walls.

10; WISDOM - Poppy is a little daft and far too humble for her own good, still searching for the legendary hero to wield the mighty hammer.

8; INTELLIGENCE - The hammer which she still doesn’t realize can only be swung by the legendary hero, despite the fact that she swings the hammer around constantly.

BACKGROUND

Officially Poppy wanders around Demacia searching for the one true hero. But unofficially she was trained by captain Orlon as a Demacian Soldier. Thing is neither of the skills really fit Poppy (well Intimidation doesn’t, and we’ll be getting Athletics from other sources) so take Persuasion and Survival to get folk to try out your hammer, or to survive long nights alone on the roads of Demacia. You can keep the Land Vehicles and Gaming Set proficiencies though! (Though Smith’s Tools might also fit if you want to be Blacksmith Poppy.)

Of course your Military Rank will still help. Demacian soldiers recognize your heroic deeds (c’mon guys really it was nothing) and are willing to lend you some military supplies if needed, or let you wander around their camps looking for someone who can pick up your hammer.

(Artwork by Esben Lash Rasmussen. Made for Riot Games.)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - FIGHTER 1

Starting off as a Fighter to be a simple, practical yordle. Fighters get two skills from the Fighter list: take Insight and Perception to search far and wide for that legendary hero.

You get a Fighting Style at level 1, and I am actually going to suggest Superior Technique from Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything. This will give you a d6 Combat Superiority die to use on a single chosen maneuver from the Battlemaster subclass. Anyways take Quick Toss to chuck your Iron Ambassador as a Bonus Action.

My recommendation for Poppy’s “shield” would be to ask your DM if you can get a Javelin that does bludgeoning damage, since the Javelin can be thrown slightly further than the other weapons. If they say no a Light Hammer works fine for bludgeoning damage, though you’re going to have to deal with the fact that Light Hammers cost 2 gold for some godawful reason. Or you could just accept that Javelins are going to do piercing damage because damage types really don’t matter much in 5e.

Also as far as your choice of weapons Poppy technically wields her hammer in both hands but as a Halfling you can’t use Heavy weapons effectively. (I’d consider Orion’s Hammer more of a Maul than anything.) Since you’re forced to use regular weapons anyways you may as well wield a Warhammer in one hand for a d8 of damage and a shield in the other for +2 AC. If you really want to bring the hurt feel free to actually chuck your shield at the enemy and then swing that Versatile weapon with a d10 hit die instead!

And finally for some lane sustain Second Wind will let you sip from your refillable potion to heal for a d10 plus your Fighter level.

LEVEL 2 - FIGHTER 2

Second level Fighters get Action Surge, letting them give 110% so you can make sure to get Orion’s hammer into the right hands. Basically you can take another action and bonk your foes twice!

LEVEL 3 - FIGHTER 3

3rd level Fighters get to choose their Martial Archetype and if you want to smack people into walls then Battlemaster is for you! (Which yeah: that’s why we took Superior Technique for more maneuver die!) Anyways Battlemasters are Students of War and while I’d love to honor the legendary hero Tulok the Barbrarian by talking Calligrapher’s Tools Poppy does have her Blacksmith skin so Smith’s Tools make more sense. If you didn’t get them from your background anyways.

But of course the main feature of the Battlemaster is their Combat Superiority: you have four five (yay Fighting Style!) Combat Superiority die to use on a variety of Maneuvers. You have Quick Toss still of course but you now get three more options. For stuns and slows of any sort Trip Attack will let you knock people over. If you want to knock people into walls first (or more realistically off a cliff) then Pushing Attack will let you bodycheck them with your small yordle body to send them a full 15 feet back! And if you want to set up for your teammates to be heroes then Distracting Strike will keep eyes locked on you so your allies can hit the enemy with advantage.

LEVEL 4 - FIGHTER 4

4th level Fighters get an Ability Score Improvement. We’re going to fix our Strength as well as a lot of other things thanks to the Squat Nimbleness feat. Along with the +1 to Strength your walking speed increases by 5 feet (Poppy may be immobile but that’s no reason not to move 30 feet), you get proficiency in Athletics (see told you we would!) and you have advantage to escape grapples.

LEVEL 5 - FIGHTER 5

5th level Fighters get an Extra Attack, so you can hit them with both the left and right side of the hammer! And if they’re still up? Action Surge to hit them two more times! "Well, that wasn't the hero."

LEVEL 6 - FIGHTER 6

Ability Score increases are nice. Feats are nicer; take the Sentinel feat to stop foes from running away with your Steadfast Presence. Put simply: enemies can’t dash move away (even if they Disengage) as your opportunity attack will reduce their movement to 0. And if they hit one of your friends you can whack them right back!

(Artwork by Pan Chengwei. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 7 - PALADIN 1

Hope you didn’t think the character that can swing a magic hammer so hard you’re sent to the opposite side of the map wouldn’t have magic! First level Paladins get Divine Sense to help search for legendary Celestial heroes or evil Fiends and Undead, who are probably being fought by heroes! You also get Lay on Hands for some refill pot healing that you can share with your friends.

LEVEL 8 - PALADIN 2

Second level Paladins get to choose their Fighting Style. To armor up we’ll be going for good ol’ Defense for +1 to AC.

Why nothing for our weapon? - Depending on your choice of Poppy you’re either going to be running your hammer two-handed or swing it with one hand. In either case either the Great Weapon Fighting or Dueling fighting style would help. But since I designed this build with the intent of you swapping between stances and the fact that Great Weapon Fighting kinda sucks as a fighting style I didn’t want to take a Fighting Style that would restrict how you use your hammer. Put simply Superior Technique does far more for us as a Fighter, and Defense is universally useful while the other Fighting Styles are somewhat situational.

With explanations out of the way you also get Spellcasting. You can prepare a number of spells equal to half your Paladin level (rounded down; IE you can prepare a new spell every 2 levels) plus your Charisma modifier.

Compelled Duel will be another way to keep enemies in your Steadfast Presence.

Shield of Faith will serve as, well, your shield. Pop it on top of a shield to really stack up that AC!

Thunderous Smite will serve as another way to bring the hammer down on your foes, knocking them back and knocking them prone.

Of course you could just ignore all that in favor of Divine Smite, letting you bring down the hammer to do 2d8 Radiant damage, plus an additional 1d8 Radiant per spell slot above 1st level. If the enemy is an Undead or Fiend, the might of Demacia will let you do an additional d8 of damage!

LEVEL 9 - PALADIN 3

Third level Paladins get to choose their Sacred Oath: to be the tank that your team needs go for the Oath of Redemption as you seek to redeem yourself to your friend’s last wishes. Redemption Paladins get the Sanctuary spell to keep an ally safe from being dove onto, and Sleep. "I could really go for a nap."

The main feature of a Paladin Oath is their Channel Divinity of which you have two: your first one Emissary of Peace will let you put on your kindest smile for +5 to Persuasion checks for 10 minutes. Alternatively if a friend is hit you can hit that foe right back with Rebuke the Violent! You use your reaction to force a Wisdom save on the enemy who hit your ally or smack them with Radiant damage equal to the damage they dealt! And if they succeed? Well they still take half damage! This ability has no damage cap so you can smite a dragon with your hammer after it breathes fire on your allies! Just remember that this doesn’t work on yourself, so be sure to put others ahead of yourself... but maybe still stand in the frontline...

You also get Divine Health, because no legendary hero is going to want to talk to you if you have the sniffles!

LEVEL 10 - PALADIN 4

4th level Paladins get an Ability Score Improvement that we’re going to ignore in favor of yet another Feat! The Charger feet will let you Dash and knock someone into a wall, doing extra damage with your hammer and knocking an enemy back.

You can also prepare another spell but we’re going to wait for...

(Artwork by Shuohan Zhou. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 11 - PALADIN 5

5th level Paladins get an Extra Attack... which you already have. Well you’re no legendary four-attacks-per-turn hero after all; just a yordle with a hammer.

You do get second level smites spells though! Redemption Paladins get Calm Emotions to... calm emotions, and Hold Person to keep an enemy stunned for your allies to fight! You can also prepare the good ol’ Aid spell to make both you and your allies tankier, as your Steadfast Presence bolsters everyone in the party.

LEVEL 12 - PALADIN 6

6th level Paladins are Stubborn to a Fault, getting Aura of Protection for some passive magic resistance. You and allies within 10 feet of you get to boost their saving throws by an amount equal to your Charisma modifier. Unfortunately that Charisma modifier is only a +2 at the moment but it still helps!

You can also prepare another spell at this level: Warding Bond was added to the Paladin spell list thanks to Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything, and it will let you make a Knight’s Vow to keep your allies safe.

LEVEL 13 - PALADIN 7

7th level Redemption Paladins get Aura of the Guardian. If an ally within 10 feet takes damage you can use your reaction to take the damage for them instead. You don’t take any of the additional effects and this damage can’t be reduced in any ways. Honestly if locked in a melee it might be a better idea to just use Sentinel instead, but if an ally gets shot by an arrow you can stand in front of them to take the shot for them... You might have to jump a bit if they’re tall though.

LEVEL 14 - PALADIN 8

Hey look at that an Ability Score Improvement! We’re not going to be taking feats and will actually just increase our Strength by 2 to finally swing that hammer full-force!

You can also prepare your final spell at this level at least until you get more Charisma, so grab Lesser Restoration to Cleanse in a pinch. Is Lesser Restoration a little underwhelming by total level 14? No! Because paralysis will always be a danger. "Not like this!"

(Artwork by Rudy Siswanto. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 15 - FIGHTER 7

Back over to good ol’ Fighterland. 7th level Battlemasters can tell if someone’s hero material thanks to Know Your Enemy. If you spend a minute studying someone you can learn a variety of features about them, such as if they can lift your hammer. (Spoiler: they can’t.)

7th level of Fighter also means some more Maneuvers and this time we’ll be going into Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything for some of the new maneuvers from that book. Brace will let you opportunity attack when an enemy comes up to you, basically. (Might be good to hold onto your reaction for Sentinel or other things however.) And while it might be a bit late to try for grapples Grappling Strike will let you use your Athletics proficiency and high Strength score to grab some people! Even if your ability to grab people is limited because of your size who knows? Your DM might let you ride on them if they try to run away from you! I’d allow it to make grappling more viable for small creatures.

LEVEL 16 - FIGHTER 8

8th level Fighters get more Ability Score Improvements and with our Strength maxed out let’s finally put some points in Charisma. This will give you more Paladin spells don’t forget, so go back to your Paladin spell list and prepare a new one!

LEVEL 17 - FIGHTER 9

Level 9 Fighters are also Stubborn to a Fault, with Indomitable letting them reroll a failed saving throw once per Long Rest. With Aura of Protection you’ve honestly got a good chance on just about any save with perhaps the exception of Intelligence.

LEVEL 18 - FIGHTER 10

10th level Battlemasters see their Improved Combat Superiority die increase to a d10 for more some more damage as you swing that hammer around!

You also get more Maneuvers whenever you get new Battlemaster features: to keep enemies focusing the tank instead of your allies grab Goading Attack, because Menacing Attack doesn’t fit Poppy. If you’re swinging at an enemy with high AC however Precision Strike will make sure the hammer ends up somewhere squishy.

LEVEL 19 - FIGHTER 11

11th level Fighters truly learn how to swing their hammer with a third Extra Attack, or six if you Action Surge! "The hammer does most of the work, I just swing it."

LEVEL 20 - FIGHTER 12

12th level Fighters get our final Ability Score Improvement, and I’ll leave it up to you: more Charisma means stronger Paladin features, but the Tough feat will give you a 40 HP boost at the end of the build.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Careful, this packs a wallop - Smites and Maneuvers on three hammer swings means that you can really bring the smack.

If you're waiting for me to give up, you might be here awhile - Wow who would’ve guessed the character build to be tanky would be tanky? High AC (21 with basic Plate and a Shield, 23 with Shield of Faith) and good health, even without too heavy of an investment in Constitution.

Who knew there were so many heroes? - You’re also a very good team player, holding the line and sacrificing yourself for your allies.

CONS

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, uh... hammer! - Dump stats are never fun. Low INT hurts even with Aura of Protection.

That's okay; I'm playing the long game - Feats are fun and all but so are good stats. I’m just saying Charger is a nice feat but so is a good Aura of Protection.

I sure do a lot of walking - All your abilities run on limited resources, and while thankfully the vast majority of them come back on a Short Rest your limited spell slots only come back after a proper sleep. You’ve gotta spend your mana effectively so you don’t caught without a hammer.

But for a simple gall with a not-so-simple hammer you can do everything you need to find that hero. Keep it polished and make sure nothing gets dented until you find the light that Demacia needs to wield your friend’s final gift! Just make sure you avoid any fields with lollipops; they have eyes I tell you...

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

#dnd #dnd build #dnd guide #League of Legends #League of Legends Poppy #hammer #dnd fighter #dnd paladin

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

Text

Forsaken | Part 12

Summary: As one of the Forsaken, Jinyoung had no right to covet anything as his own. When he stumbles across you standing in the middle of the village he had plundered, the memories of old make him risk it all, clutching at the past in hopes for a better future.

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader

Genre: warrior au / star crossed lovers / angst / romance

Warnings: death, kidnapping, cursing, a myriad of emotions - this is a really sad love story.

Index: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

“You’re not a very pretty thing, are you?” the man who was the leader of this army sneered, leaning in closer to the cell you and Youngjae were held within. He then let out a boom of laughter which startled you enough to bang into Youngjae’s shoulder. “That boy has never had much of a good taste in anything so what to expect really.”

“You’re no great looker yourself,” you couldn’t help but shoot back and the man stopped with his jovial response, his gaze narrowing on your face. “It’s a pity my eyes have to take you in so closely. Have you bathed this month or is that putrid smell your natural odour?”

Youngjae was pinching at the edge of your arm repeatedly to stop. However, you didn’t back down any. If this ogre of a man was going to treat Jackson the way he had and then insult the man who would give up everything for you, then you weren’t afraid to share your thoughts now either.

Perhaps you were too bold for a prisoner but you wouldn’t remain one for long anyway.

He was silent for a moment and then he chuckled. “I like you. Maybe you’ll make a good wife.”

“Don’t you already have enough whores to keep you busy?”

“Y/N!” Youngjae whined and then shook his head. “Please forgive her, My Lord. She comes from a very optimistic lifestyle and has no idea how these lands work.”

“Don’t suck up to me boy, I have no use for you.”

“I think you do,” you corrected firmly and the man looked back at you again, intrigued. “Youngjae here is a mighty fine cook.”

“He is, is he?”

“Oh yes, the finest I’ve ever come across.”

Youngjae was so surprised by your outlandish lie that all he could do was stare at you with his mouth agape. However, you pressed on, maintaining eye contact with your captor. “Surely you would allow us to cook you a meal tonight.”

“You’re not free to move around here. I’m using you as bait. As soon as I sniff out that lousy cat of yours, you’ll be gone from this earth.”

“All the more reason for a chef such as Youngjae and I to make our final meal together. After all, you did see how well-fed the men were back at the camp we come from, didn’t you? That’s all on Youngjae. I’ve been cooking with him since I arrived and honestly, you won’t regret it.”

You could tell the man was a fool. Whilst he had a clever wit about him when it came to being a warrior, he was overruled by the comforts he could lap up within these walls. Scratching at his beard, he let out another laugh. “I suppose I’ve always been envious of that boy’s teamwork. A hearty meal for me and my men will only prepare us further for taking out Jinyoung when he arrives.”

You swallowed back your instant complaint and smiled instead. “Of course. A hearty meal is what you all deserve.”

“What are you playing at?” Youngjae murmured in your ear when you were both transported to their open kitchen area. The two men who threw you into your confinements now shackled you with a rope around your ankles so you couldn’t escape. They then put potatoes in front of you.

“We will need the finest cut of meat you have here,” you instructed to the men, who glanced between each other before going into their storage shed. You looked at Youngjae desperately. “I’m getting us out of here. I still have some of the supplies on me.”

“How are you planning to get us out?”

“I lived with a healing woman. I know a thing or two,” you responded, smiling at the return of the men with a bucket of meat. “Wonderful. Shall we get to work, master?”

“Mas-- er yes. Yes, we shall.”

“A stew is your finest use of potatoes, isn’t it?” you continued and the men seemed content with your conversation and washing of the potatoes to lose some interest in you both. Still, you continued with your talk, just to be sure. “You make a very fragrant blend as your special flavour, don’t you?”

“It’s a unique dish for sure,” Youngjae attempted to sound just as effortless as you were. His hands were shaking and you reached out to calm them with a gentle squeeze and a nod of your head.

When Youngjae had collected the seeds for your travels, you had noticed a large sachet of Nightshade seeds along the wall of the shop. You had slipped them into the purchase without a moment’s thought, out of habit that you would fetch them for your Grandmother when she called for them. Now, they had proven their worth and you were grateful you had pocketed them shortly after leaving the village.

It wouldn’t be enough to truly take out your captors, given how many there were, but it would buy you some time. Thankfully, Youngjae found some herbs within the kitchen that could help with the disagreeable smell, and by the time you were ready to serve it up, the stew boasted a smell that had the men hanging around for it.

“Best thing I’ve smelt in years!”

“Boss made a good decision about letting them feed us!”

“How can a stew smell this tasty?!”

You felt unfortunate towards some of the girls who ate alongside them, knowing they weren’t guilty like the monsters slurping up their dinner were. Still, you needed the best chance of escape.

“Girl, is there more?” the leader, whom you had learned was called Argo, belched, and you smiled, pushing the large pot forward.

“I believe you will lick the bowl clean at this rate.”

“A good meal like this… that boy was living in luxury.”

“You could too if you let us live,” Youngjae offered and Argo chuckled as he threw the remnants of what was in the ladle down his throat. You watched on with bated breath.

“Nice try, boy. But once that lion or tiger or whatever he called himself comes prowling through here, you’ll be seeing the gates of the heavens above.”

“Worth a try,” you lamented dramatically, patting Youngjae’s arm.

It didn’t take long for the effects to settle in. Nightshade in small doses was effective in many ways. You knew of it intimately, as it had been the potion you drank given by your father that saved you. Still, the concentration compared to this one had been stronger and you couldn’t gauge if the men would sleep for hours or days.

It would give you both the head start you would need all the same.

Once the last one dropped into slumber around you both, you reached for the dagger down your leg and as quickly and quietly as you could, cut the rope free from yours and Youngjae’s legs. Nodding at one another, you then started towards the exit near the stables, stopping just before you stepped out.

“What is it?”

“Jinyoung will come here,” you murmured, slicing a shred of your pant cuff off. Hiding it in a crevice that you knew his keen eyes would discover, you then smiled at Youngjae, dashing away as fast as you both could.

“What are you doing?”

Looking at Jinyoung and then at the stack of white stones you held, you smiled. “I’m creating a trail.”

“Yes, but why?”

“In case we get lost. Papa needs to find us.”

“Can’t you just tell the way back from how we travelled it?” he wondered and you shrugged.

“This way I’m not leaving anything to chance.”

“What if a wind picks up and throws your stones away?”

“Then fate wanted us to be lost from this world,” you surmised, scrunching up your face as you gave the boy a playful shove. “Don’t be so frustrating. It’s better to do this than not at all. Say I went for a wander all by myself and got lost. Wouldn’t you want a path to find me with?”

“I’d use my skills from living within woods like these to track you down,” he stubbornly replied, though he reached for the next stone to place on the path for you. You giggled and Jinyoung smiled. “I hope you don’t get lost from my world, Y/N.”

“I know you’ll find me if I do. I’ll leave you a trail just so you know how to find me.”

The light that rose with the new dawn enabled you and Youngjae to move faster over the terrain. It hadn’t been easy to put distance between you and the camp with barely a moon to guide you by, yet you had made some progress.

It wasn’t enough though and once the men woke and found their horses, it would be all too easy to find you on the flat.

You remained climbing into a mountainside in hopes it would lead you away from being captured again.

“It’s cold,” Youngjae mentioned with concern as you hacked another chunk of fabric off your leg. “You should stop doing that now.”

“I can’t, Jinyoung needs to find us.”

“You’re above your knees now, there won’t be much more to give up. Here, take from mine.”

You smiled gratefully at Youngjae and nodded. “For the next marker, I will take your offer.”

“You hold a lot of hope that Jinyoung will find us.”

“If I give up hope, I won’t keep moving. And I have to make my best move.”

“Your best move?”

You nodded again. “I froze in front of danger the first time. If I allow others to control me and not fight myself then I’m not making my best move for us right now.”

“How long do you think until the brew wears off?”

“Maybe we have a couple more hours up our sleeve at most.”

“Then by noon, we may not have much luck.”

“They would have expected us to head towards our camp. They didn’t hold much regard for our smarts.”

“Given that brute believed your story of me being a fine cook.”

“You did enough to make that believable yourself given how long you had been feeding them before I.”

“Perhaps. I got worried when you started mouthing off.”

Your lips curled up fondly. “I was a little spirited.”

“You’re lucky he didn’t kill us then.”

“He couldn’t.” You stared ahead at the dense forest and then sighed. “He needed us to get to Jinyoung.”

“I hope Jackson is okay.”

“I believe Jackson is stronger than he looks.”

“Perhaps it wasn’t a deep wound. It sure stunned him.”

“I believe he will greet us again.”

“Yes, I do too.”

You both fell silent, your true worries unspoken. Neither of you had supplies to prolong your travels any. Once you ran out of energy that would be it unless you could harvest something along the way. All you saw was tree after tree and nothing edible in between.

You had managed to drink from a spring some hours earlier into your travel but as the sun grew hotter in the sky and filtered through the lessening density of the trees, you were becoming a little parched.

Still, you travelled on.

Mid-afternoon arrived and Youngjae’s breathing grew laboured. You stopped to rest, wiping the perspiration from your brows and neck, wondering if you could use it to wet your mouth any. It was too salty and you spat it out, groaning with your lack of resources.

You hadn’t thought far ahead.

“There’s a clearing,” Youngjae pointed and you turned to the direction he was looking in, perking up.

“And a homestead!”

“Water,” Youngjae breathed as you helped him up.

“Food too.”

“Shelter,” you both stated, trying your best to keep Youngjae upright as you both travelled over the ground with the remaining energy you had.

The clearing was flat and your legs relished in it as you jogged across the grassy field, eyes fixated on what you hoped would be your saviour.

And then you heard the thundering of hooves coming upon you.

_________________

Part 13

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ahatintimestorybook · 3 years

Text

Hopes and Friendships (Witch!MU AU) Chap.1-Speranza, the Magic World

Hey everyone! Got a brand new AU for you all! I know I have no control with creating AU’s.

So ever since I made my Mermaid AU and my Werekitten AU, I figured let’s make a Witch AU featuring our favorite fighting for justice girl, Mustache Girl. I had this idea for a few months now and watched a bit of witch themed shows and movies like Kiki’s Delivery Service and Owl House to get me motivated. I even came up with some ideas during work and when it was slow I’d write down the ideas on receipt paper.

Hope you join in on this new magical adventure!

Enjoy!

The world of Speranza is a magical place where witches, wizards and other magical creatures live. At Speranza’s famous academy, Magia, young witches and wizards go there to enhance their magical skills and hopefully find their own talents. The school is run by a strict, but well known witch named Elizabeth, who hopes to see her students succeed.

However, one student has been under her skin since day one.

It was a normal day at Magia Academy, until a loud explosion happened at the left side of the school that snapped Elizabeth out of her thoughts. The headmistress quickly left her office and marched to where the explosion happened.

“Is everyone alright!” Elizabeth yelled, snapping the door open. The smoke cleared, but the students were covered in blue goo. The students pointed at the student who caused the explosion.

The student in question was a young girl with long blonde hair tied into loose pigtails with green beads and a purple ribbon, and had tawny colored eyes. She also had a fake blonde colored mustache on her face. She wore the Magia School uniform, which was a pale purple blouse with long sleeves, and a plaid purple suspender skirt, long black stockings and purple shoes.

The girl gave a nervous chuckle and hid the two potion bottles behind her back. Elizabeth sighed and glared at the young girl. “Of course, Mu.” She hissed.

Mu was then sent to Elizabeth’s office to be scolded and punished for her recent actions. “This has been the 10th time this month I’ve seen you in my office, Mu!” Elizabeth shouted. Mu sat there quietly as she watched her headmistress pace around her office and rant about every little bad thing Mu did this month. “You made potions flood the school, you got a flock of crows in here, and now this! Just to name a few!”

“Okay to be fair, the crow thing wasn’t my fault. They were the ones who chased me on my way to school.” Mu explained.

“Even so!” Elizabeth snapped, as she slammed the ruler on the table, making Mu squeak. “You’ve gotten in trouble countless times, and I’m at the point of expelling you.” She told her. Mu’s eyes snapped open, as she turned away from Elizabeth. “But,” The headmistress continued, “I will leave you off with a warning, since Tim told me you did the project right.” This made Mu sigh in relief. “But, one more mess up and you’ll be expelled from Magia Academy, and your flying lessons would be confiscated! Got it!”

Mu stuttered a bit, but sighed understanding the consequence if she were to get in trouble again. “Yes, ma’am.” She told her.

“Good, now go back to whatever it is you're doing.” Elizabeth demanded, shooing the girl away. Mu sighed and walked back to her dorm.

A black cat, wearing a pink collar with a potion bottle woke up hearing the door slam open and closed, causing him to freak out. “Boss! Let’s go!” Mu shouted. The cat turned to see Mu frustrated as she changed from her school uniform to her regular witch clothes, which was red with a pink belt and collar with long pink striped socks.

The black cat, named Boss sighed, “What did you do this time?” He asked.

“Nothing!” Mu snapped. “My project got all messed up, and Headmistress Elizabeth thinks I was causing nothing but trouble again!” She ranted.

“To be honest, after all the mayhem you’ve been doing. She would be mad at the smallest mistake you would make.” Boss replied.

Mu growled and grabbed Boss by his scruff. “Don’t piss me off!” She then dropped her cat on her bed then grabbed her broom and opened her window and was ready to go for a fly. “I’m going to fly for a bit. I need a cool off!”

“Now, as you're familiar I need to accompany you if you plan on leaving the school.” Boss told her.

Mu sighed, she wanted to go on her broom flight by herself. Though Boss was right. “Alright, you can join, but just stay quiet for at least 5 minutes.” She told him. Boss then hopped on the broom before Mu went flying off into the sky.

The flight was quiet between Mu and Boss. Mu just wanted to fly as far away from the school as possible just for a while till curfew and then sleep the rest of her frustration off. During the flight, Mu passed through all of Speranza, the colorful lights as the sun started to go down, made her smile.

Later into the flight, Boss saw a ripple by the moonlight, and freaked out.“M-Mu! K-Kid!” Boss tried to warn, but Mu cut him off.

“I told you to keep your mouth shut!” Mu snapped.

“B-but w-we’re about to enter a-” Boss was cut off as Mu and him entered the ripple, which sent them to another world, Earth.

On Earth, there was a young girl around Mu’s age, with brown hair tied into a ponytail and in her lilac space pajamas. She had these witch dolls, monster plushies, and a storybook with the same witches on them. “And then the sweet witch, Aida, used her magical spell to turn the water monster into nothing more than a puddle!” The girl narrated.

She grabbed the witch doll, Aida and pointed it at the plush of a frog like monster. The girl made her Aida doll pretend to do magic and to make it look like the water monster turned into a puddle she grabbed the plush and threw it on her bed, where it landed perfectly on her pillows. “Haha!” She cheered. “The 5 harmony witches could never be beaten!” She cheered.

“Harriet!” A male voice shouted. The young girl, Harriet turned to see her father, a man with brown hair like her, golden eyes, wearing a red and purple plaid shirt, some purple sweat pants, and grey socks. “Harriet, it’s almost 10 pm, and you should be asleep.”

“Sorry dad.” Harriet apologized. “I’m just reenacting my favorite scene from the Five Perfect Witches!” She explained.

Harriet’s father, Luka sighed, shaking his head. “Every scene from that book series is your favorite.” He reminded her. “But, aren’t you a little old for that book?”

“Dad.” Harriet frowned. “Five Perfect Witches are loved by everybody! They show you, you don’t have to be perfect to be anything, being perfect is-” Harriet and her father continued together, “you being you.”

“I know.” Luka reminded her. “But, you’re almost 10 years old, and kids your age should be reading mystery books, horror novels, and books about growing up.” He told her, as he ruffled her head.

“But fantasies are better, and plus everyone loves fantasy novels.”

“Not as much as you do.” Luka then picked up Harriet’s stuff and placed them on her bed. “Now, it’s getting late and you should be getting sleep.”

Harriet let out a yawn, feeling a bit tired already from the mini adventure she had. She crawled into bed, as she watched her father put her 5 Perfect Witch dolls, book, and some of her plushies on the shelf, except for the frog monster and mouse monster plush, which was left on her daughter’s bed. Luka gave his daughter a kiss on her forehead and turned off the lights.

“Night my little witch.” Luka whispered.

“Night dad.” Harriet whispered back. She turned to her side and went to sleep. However, a few moments later, Harriet opened her eyes and got up to go to her shelf, and grab her 5 Perfect Witch book to do some late night reading. She turned on her lamp and started to read her book, clutching her plushies tight. “Wouldn’t it be nice to meet a witch?” Harriet whispered to herself.

A twinkle was heard outside, and Harriet quickly closed her book and looked outside her balcony and saw a silhouette of Mu flying on her broom. Harriet’s eyes widened seeing a witch, a real live witch! “A witch!” She exclaimed in a low whisper. Quickly, Harriet grabbed her house slippers and was ready to head outside for a closer look.

“What are you doing?” Luka asked. Harriet squeaked and turned towards her father, who looked disappointed seeing his daughter hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

“D-dad!” Harriet stuttered. “I-I just saw something outside and wanted to go and check it out.”

Luka shook his head. “Harriet, you can check it out in the morning, right now you need to be in bed, asleep.” He told her, as he ushered his daughter back to her room. Harriet stuttered and tried to tell her father, but she gave up and slowly nodded heading back to her room.

Harriet sighed and took off her slippers. She then went back to her window, and saw Mu was still flying, but something was off about it.

Back with Mu, “Woah! Ah!” Mu screamed as she lost control of her broom. She then noticed she made it to Earth, and freaked out, which in turn caused her to lose control. Soon Mu crashed into a tree, and was knocked out dizzy from the landing.

Back with Harriet, she saw the whole thing and felt concerned for the witch. As much as she wanted to go help Mu, her father would get furious seeing her still awake. “I hope you're okay, witch.” Harriet whispered. “I’ll check up on you in the morning.” She closed her windows and went back to sleep, but couldn’t shake the feeling about the witch.

#ahit au #Witch!Mu AU #mustache girl #Hat Kid #ahit the prince #Mafia Boss ahit #yes mafia boss is a cat #get ready for this magical au

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teacupfulofstarshine · 4 years

Text

pattonella part 9: virgil sweetheart PLEASE learn how to read the room i’m begging you

cw: mentions of injury, mentions of death, nightmare, anxiety attack, mild angst

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8 // read it on ao3!!

“can i please be cleared to read books on my own now?” logan says. “because i love the sound of virgil’s voice, but i’m sure he has better things to be doing than sitting here reading to me at all hours.”

“shut up, there’s nowhere i’d rather be,” virgil says. he flushes immediately, but logan just smiles and reaches for his hand. remy rolls his eyes and peers into logan’s eye.

“you were nearly killed by a horse, prince logan, i think you can afford to relax just a little.” logan huffs, sounding very much like a small child, and virgil smiles. “still, it’s been about a week . . . i suppose i can clear you. but no strenuous activity, and the second you start feeling any pain or discomfort or anything out of the ordinary you come and tell me, you understand?”

“crystal clear,” logan says, sitting up a little too fast and wincing. remy glares suspiciously at him, but doesn’t offer any additional commentary. “i am looking forward to the ability to walk around without you two constantly hovering over me as though i am made of spun glass.”

“maybe if you would stop running into danger,” remy mutters. he reaches out and ruffles logan’s hair softly, and the prince doesn’t immediately bat his hand away. “i’m still sending healing potions with your meals, and you will drink them all.”

“yes, mother,” logan huffs playfully. remy rolls his eyes again and flounces out of the room. virgil has never seen a real human flounce before, but there truly is no other word to describe what remy is doing.

“i bet you’re happy to be off bed rest,” virgil says.

“ecstatic,” logan sighs. virgil stifles a yawn behind his fist, but logan immediately picks up on it. “what was that?”

“uh . . . a yawn?”

“why are you yawning? has your sleep not been optimal?”

“not really . . .”

“why has it been -” logan’s eyes widen in recognition, and he frowns. “oh . . . i - i apologize, virgil.”

“why?”

“you have been awake because you were taking care of me. you have been foregoing sleep and tending to your own health because you have been so concerned for mine. i am so sorry, virgil, i did not mean to make you think that you had to -”

“shut up,” virgil interrupts. “you honestly think i would have been doing that shit if i didn’t care about you? if i didn’t give a fuck i would have fucked off and let someone else do it. i lo - i - um - i care about you a lot.”

logan looks at him, hair adorably ruffled, eyes wide and pretty, face flushed pink from being buried under mountains of thick, warm blankets in the sunshine, and virgil immediately shoves a pillow into logan’s face to cover his massive blush. “shut up!”

logan laughs softly, putting the pillow on the floor, and reaches out to take virgil’s hand. virgil huffs irritably, but he lets logan take it. “come and lay down, virgil. you are clearly exhausted. you must rest. you have dedicated your entire life this past week or so to caring for me, and that cannot be easy.”

“it’s not work,” virgil says, remembering an old sappy book he’d read once. “not to me. not if it is you.”

“i know,” logan says softly, “but you are tired. sleep, my dear. please? for me?”

logan gently tugs on virgil’s hand, virtually no force behind it, and virgil topples onto the bed. he shuffles around, keeping his face pushed into the duvet, and manages to settle laying on his side, staring into logan’s eyes. this close, he can see all the freckles that cluster around logan’s nose and eyes.

“you have stars on your ceiling,” virgil says, “and they’re on your face, too.” logan’s face turns a little pinker, and he smiles, reaching up to tuck a curl behind virgil’s ear.

“you’re not sleeping,” he says.

“how can i sleep when i’m looking at you?” virgil says. he bites his lip immediately, he can’t believe he said something so sappy and gay to the prince, but logan smiles and gently drags his thumb across virgil’s mouth.

“don’t bite your lips,” he murmurs. “they’re so soft. i love to kiss them.” he leans forward and gently pushes his mouth against virgil’s, and virgil closes his eyes and exhales into the kiss.

“here,” logan hums, carding his hand through virgil’s hair. virgil snuggles up to his chest, draping an arm over logan’s hips as he slots his legs in between his. “when i was small, before -” his chest hitches slightly under virgil’s ear. “- before my mother died, she would sing to me, and thomas used to sing it for roman and i. perhaps it will help you. i can put no magic in my voice, but i can sing.”

“whatever you want,” virgil murmurs. “i’m sure your voice is beautiful.”

logan takes a few deep breaths, inhales, and begins to sing. “A naeoidhean bhig, cluinn mo ghuth Mise rid' thaobh, O mhaighdean bhan . . .”

virgil is so taken with the beauty of logan’s rich voice that he isn’t sure how he manages to fall asleep at all.

*~*~*~*~*

everything is black, and suddenly remy appears, shining a small light into logan’s eyes to assess the severity of his concussion. past.

everything is black, and suddenly logan appears, stroking his hand through virgil’s hair, mouth open, eyes half-shut as he sings. present.

everything is black, and suddenly roman appears, sword raised in front of his chest, blocking one, two, three blows before an arrow pierces his shoulder, his chest, his stomach, his neck.

future.

*~*~*~*~*

logan is half-asleep when virgil bolts upright, eyes flaring purple, screaming. “virgil -”

“something is wrong, something is wrong with roman!” virgil shrieks, voice warped and distorted and strange. logan feels his heart turn to ice and drop into his stomach.

“what is wrong with my brother?”

“i had a vision, he was fighting, he got pierced by arrows and he went down and something is going W R O N G logan!”

before logan can stop him, virgil is on his feet, scrambling out of bed so fast he almost faceplants onto the ground. he’s out the door before logan can stop him, but he’s on his feet almost immediately to chase him.

*~*~*~*~*

“are you sure this is a good idea?” claire says. her hands are clasped behind her back as she studies the map roman has spread out on the table. it’s covered in red x’s and dotted lines, surrounded with candles, with a dagger sticking out of a particular clump of trees.

“we know that’s where they’re hiding,” roman says. “they won’t attack this village as long as we’re here, they’ll wait until we decide to ‘abandon’ these people and then they’ll raze it to the ground. we have to strike at the root of this issue, and that means attacking their hideout. we ride at dawn.”

“prince roman,” claire says, “you know that i am your most loyal advisor. i would request permission to speak freely.”

“granted, claire, always granted.”

“prince roman, i think this is foolish. they let us find that base easily, too easily. i suspect it is a trap.”

“they’re probably setting one,” roman sighs, pushing a hand through his sweaty hair. “but what do you want me to do? not attack? we know that they’re there, we know that they’re planning something!”

“wait a day or two,” claire says. “take some time to plan a strategy. send a scout to see if there are any obvious traps that we can plan for. we have to play this smart so that we don’t end up losing soldiers.”

“so we don’t end up losing me, you mean.”

“you are the prince of our kingdom, prince roman. you have two brothers waiting for you at home, not to mention the newly-discovered lord sanders. we cannot risk bringing you home as a corpse.”

“you don’t have to coddle me, claire, i’m not made of glass!”

“i never suggested as much, prince roman,” claire says coolly. “i am merely reiterating that you should remember that you cannot throw yourself recklessly into danger with no consideration of those waiting for you at home. i will leave you to your thoughts. should you choose to march in the morning, we will of course support you, but i suggest you reconsider this plan.”

she ducks out of the tent, and roman sighs, running his fingers over the depiction of the sanders manor in the corner of the map. “patton . . . i want to come home to you . . . but i have to free these people. how do i balance this?”

he pulls the dagger out of the map and twirls it around in his hands. he has a lot of thinking to do.

*~*~*~*~*

“i’m not sure this is okay for me to do,” thomas says, looking hesitantly at the dais. the king’s throne stands tall and regal, with the queen’s throne smaller but no less regal beside it.

“you are the crown prince,” joan, the advisor beside him, says. “it is your right.” they hold out a small velvet pillow with the circlet of the crown prince resting on it, opal gleaming rainbow in the morning sunlight.

“i’m not the crown prince,” thomas protests. “roman and logan aren’t married yet, i can’t legally be named the crown prince, and i’m not allowed to wear that or - or sit on the throne, or do any of this!”

joan sets the crown on the dais and reaches out to gently take his hand. “prince thomas . . .”

“dad is still alive,” thomas says, eyes watering. “he’s weak, and he’s sick, but he’s not dead yet, i’m not - i don’t have to replace him yet . . .”

“i’m sorry, prince thomas,” joan murmurs. “i didn’t realize that it would affect you like that, i -”

“it’s not your fault,” thomas sniffles, wiping at his eyes. “i know you guys don’t think about it like that, but - but it’s my dad, you know? i know the kingdom is going to lose its leader soon, but - but i’m gonna lose my dad, you know?”

joan nods, squeezing his hand and offering a handkerchief from their pocket. thomas takes it, dabbing at his face. “thank you, joan.”

“of course, prince thomas. you can stand on the dais if you want, since you still have to receive -”

the door to the throne room slams open, wood ringing against stone, and thomas whirls around. before he can even reach for the hidden dagger he carries on his person always, before joan can step in front of him, virgil is speeding across the room. there are two guards behind him, trying to catch him, but virgil is outpacing them rapidly.

“virgil?”

once he gets closer, thomas gasps, taking in details. his hair is unkempt, his clothes are askew, and his eyes are glowing solid purple. “crown prince thomas,” he says, and thomas winces at the distortion of his voice. “i have had a vision that must be brought to your attention immediately.”

“you can see the future?” joan gasps.

“what did you see?” thomas asks.

“prince roman is in danger,” virgil says. “there will be an attack, and he will be killed by arrows. we must aid him immediately.”

there’s a watery noise from behind virgil, and he spins around to see patton standing behind him pressing his hands over his mouth. “roman - roman is going to die?”

the purple in his eyes flickers away. “wh - patty?”

“roman is going to die?” patton repeats, hurrying forward and grabbing virgil’s hands.

“not necessarily,” virgil says, putting a hand to his head and beginning to sag forward against patton. “i - the vision showed him dying, but it also showed that giant horse killing logan a week or so ago, and he’s still alive.”

“we have a chance to stop it?” thomas says. virgil turns to look at him.

“i - yes, your highness, i think there is a chance to save him.”

thomas nods. “are you sufficiently prepared to travel?”

“i can be in an hour at the least.”

“good. take a party of guards and go after roman.”

“i’m coming too,” logan says, striding through the doors. “remy cleared me from my concussion earlier, i’m going.”

“me too!” patton says. “i’m going with you, if roman is in trouble i have to help!”

“i can’t risk you both,” thomas starts, but logan glares at him.

“are you telling me that if father was well and running the kingdom, you wouldn’t be grabbing a sword and riding after him?” thomas winces, and logan lifts his chin victoriously. “exactly. i am going with virgil, and so is patton. roman is worth the risk.”

thomas exhales. “go and pack, then. meet me here in an hour with a plan.” logan nods, whirls around, and hurries out of the room with virgil and patton on his heels. thomas hums, turning to joan. “i need you to bring me a specific volume of the history of the kingdom from the library.”

“of course, your highness. may i ask what for?”

“i think i just found logan’s loophole.”

#starshinewrites #pattonella!au #analogical #royality #virgil sanders #logan sanders #thomas sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders

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damienthepious · 3 years

Text

time 2 be emotionally fraught baybeeeeee happy LKT!

Going Through Changes, Ripping Out Pages (chapter 10)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ch 3] [ch 4] [ch 5] [ch 6] [ch 7] [ch 8] [ch 9] [ao3] [???]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla, The Keep

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Established Relationship, (uhhhhh sorta), Amnesia, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, (WE WILL GET THERE…… EVENTUALLY)

Summary: Lord Arum wakes to discover that some things have changed while he slept. Namely, there is a human in his bed.

Chapter Summary: Damien tests his theory.

Chapter Notes: inconsistent chapter length be damned!!! i do what i want! [kicks desk] anyway happy LKT, i love youu

They make poor progress with their research, that morning. Arum is-

He is clearly acting grumpier than he feels, a defensive layer of prickliness that Rilla really isn't surprised by, but she suspects that the lizard slept far less than he implied, too. He looks shadowed and tense in a way that reminds her distinctly and unpleasantly of how he looked the first time she stayed here in the Keep, and she doesn't think that's just because that's basically the mindset that he's in. She knows how his tail coils when he's far too tired, by now.

A lot of the problem with their research is that monsters seem to keep their methods of creating curses pretty damn close to the chest, and Arum himself isn't really in the business. His creations have always been a lot more physical. "Practical," in his words, though Rilla quietly disagrees that a decent chunk of his nonsense projects are practical.

Arum knows a few ways to get rid of hexes and jinxes- ritual words, ceremonies of cleansing, magic potions, the sorts of things that usually frustrate Rilla out of her mind with their inconsistency. Rilla's frustration doesn't much matter, though, because Arum is convinced that none of the above would be effective against a curse like this anyway. A magical-herb-infused bath might knock out some minor blight, but this? It's too deep.

... They do test a few smaller ideas anyway, if only to see if they might weaken whatever it is that's locking Arum's memories away (none of them say, out loud, the possibility that the memories are gone, not just inaccessible), but after each minor test Arum only sags further and shakes his head.

By midday they're all... disheartened, to use a Damien word. Arum more than her and Damien, if Rilla's read is correct. Again- it really doesn't help that he's so obviously exhausted. Damien meets Rilla's eyes over the small lunch the Keep brings for them (it's been picking out meals that it knows are each of their favorites, Rilla is sure that it's deliberate- she thinks she oughta take an aside with the Keep later today, thank it a bit more directly, check in to make sure it's doing alright, considering-), and Rilla knows he's thinking of their conversation this morning. Rilla still isn't enthusiastic about the idea, it seems dangerous, for a number of reasons, but-

Arum pulled Damien back to them with a duel, didn't he?

And, frankly, it's not like Rilla has any better ideas. None that don't involve a near-impossible infiltration and- well. Murder, theoretically.

She catches Damien's eye again as they clean up their bowls, and she gives him a nod, and as much of a smile as she can manage.

Damien nods in return, his expression nervous but steady, and then he takes a deep breath.

"I may have an idea," Damien says, and Rilla's heart thuds at the way Arum's face flashes with hope before he buries it in a frown. "Would you mind," he continues, "if we were to retreat to the greenhouse, to discuss it?"

Arum's frown deepens, clearly unhappy not to just out with it right now, but he turns and gestures with a hand for the Keep to open the way.

"A duel," Arum drawls, and the little knight does a poor job of hiding the way Arum's tone makes him wince. Or, perhaps he did not intend to hide it at all. "So you wish to do precisely what the Senate wanted us to, then?"

"By no means," the knight says, jerking his head sharply. "It may be a foolish idea-"

"The reasoning is sound," Amaryllis interrupts, firm, and the knight glances towards her with a grateful smile.

"Well- I hope so. I thought, perhaps- we duel often, you see, to keep our skills sharp, to settle inconsequential matters, to-" he cuts himself off, his cheeks darkening, and then he shakes his head. "So- so I thought, perhaps, that if we cannot strike upon a magical means of weakening this affliction, then maybe there could be a more physical method. If your body remembers- remembers warmth enough to trouble your sleep when you are lacking, then... perhaps your body may remember the strain of our physical activities together as well."

Arum frowns, both grateful and furious with the poet for avoiding the mention of what precise heat his body remembers. It is embarrassing in the extreme, of course, but it is almost more embarrassing that Damien seems to know to avoid specificity in the matter. "So you believe that we may... knock some sense into me, as it were."

Amaryllis chokes a laugh, which is oddly gratifying. Damien, for his part, looks mournful again, wide-eyed and worried.

"I have no desire to hurt you," he insists.

"And yet you wish to fight."

"To duel," Damien says. "To spar, if that phrasing is more... acceptable."

"We do this often?" Arum says, doing nothing to hide his skepticism, and then he eyes Damien, unarmed as he is. Arum, on the other hand, is armed. Excepting his time in their room the night before, his knives have been carefully strapped to his person since the Keep allowed Damien to leave, the first morning they woke together. He... believes that they are earnest, now, yes, but he is not so foolish as to leave himself without defense.

"Like, kind of annoyingly often," Amaryllis says, leaning against a thick tree trunk and crossing her arms over her chest, and the poet's lips press together in something of a pout. "I don't really get it, but yeah."

"It-" Damien furrows his brow, and then he sighs. "If you think the idea ridiculous, or if- if you do not trust that I will not hurt you- if you do not agree, Arum, then obviously we will not try it. We can find another thread to pull, for the afternoon. I only thought-"

"I am unconcerned that you will harm me, little poet," Arum says, halfway to a snarl, and Damien stills, his lips pressing together in an expression that Arum cannot quite read. "And I do think the idea is ridiculous. However..." he growls, looking away for a moment. However. The story they and the Keep have told him piecemeal over the last day-and-half still spins uncertainly in Arum's mind, the idea that he and this slight, soft-eyed little human have clashed steel before and matched evenly-

Arum still cannot quite accept it. He believes them, trusts the pain in their eyes if nothing else, but the idea that he would have lost to so gentle a creature- it simply does not make sense. A duel, a contest of skill, now- Arum cannot say if he is at all convinced it may do anything to loosen the grip of this curse, but nevertheless Arum is tempted. If only, he thinks, for the chance to prove himself.

"However?" Sir Damien echoes, softly, and Arum snaps back to himself.

"If the both of you think it may have a chance..." he shrugs, feigning nonchalance. "It is worth exploring, I suppose."

"Again," Amaryllis says, lifting a pointed hand, "it makes sense, but I don't think we should-"

"Get our hopes up," Arum finishes. "Obviously."

Amaryllis' lip curls up, not quite a smile, and then she shoots a look towards Damien. "Be careful, remember," she says sternly, and the poet presses a hand over his heart.

"I swear," he says. "Always."

The look on Amaryllis' face at that leads Arum to suspect that the poet is not, in fact, always careful. Arum frowns.

"How shall we begin, then? I imagine you suggested that we come to the greenhouse because it will give us ample space, correct?"

"Yes." Damien gives a small sort of smile. "The game is to try to pin each other. Despite Rilla's- frequent suggestions, we have... not yet transitioned to sparring with practice weaponry. Bladed combat is your preferred, and I am rather flexible, so typically we duel with knives." He pauses. "Yours, if you would be willing to allow me the use of one. Otherwise- well, I could ask the Keep to allow me to step into Rilla's hut for a moment to retrieve-"

"We may as well do this properly," Arum says, shrugging, and then he draws one of his knives and, on a strange sort of whim, whips it out to sink into the bark of the tree beside Damien's head. The knight does not flinch, surprisingly, though he does blink as the Keep warbles a chastising note. "Oh be quiet," Arum mutters. "The bark is thick, it will be fine."

Damien turns, carefully pulling the blade back out, his fingers curling around the hilt with a reverent sort of delicacy.

Arum unstraps one set of hilts, hanging them from another tree nearby, then draws his remaining blade, holding it unthreateningly at his side as he spares a look towards Amaryllis.

"Your priorities fascinate me, just so you are aware," he mutters. "Though you did not deign to ask, I will assure you as well that I will exercise caution. I will not cause the poet any undue harm."

Amaryllis presses her lips together, nearly smiling. "Appreciate that," she says after a moment, her tone very strange, and then she shoots Damien a look.

The poet shakes his head. "Keep, if you would?"

Arum blinks, but the Keep sings a note of acknowledgment and shutters the skylights slightly, dimming the greenhouse to a more muted palette.

"So no one may claim that the sun were in his eyes," Damien explains with a wry smile, and Arum wonders briefly which of them that particular amendment were made in deference to. "Is there anything else you need? A moment to collect yourself, or-"

"I am fully prepared to best you," Arum snaps, unsettled by the gentle concern in the poet's voice. "Are you ready?"

The poet inhales very slowly, exhales tranquility, my Saint in a breath, and then his lips tilt into a crooked smile.

"I am," he says.

"You are remarkably amenable to the situation," Arum says slowly, stalking closer, "considering that I did, in fact, nearly kill you yesterday morning. I feel I should give you another guarantee, for the sake of your comfort. I will not hurt you beyond what is necessary to beat you. You need not fear for your life."

"You sound so utterly certain," Damien says, a grin flashing across his face despite the pain in his eyes. "So confident that you will be the one of us who needs show mercy."

"I've never lost, little poet," Arum growls, stiff, and Damien glances for half a moment towards Rilla, and then he laughs.

"Ah, I am terribly sorry to disabuse you of that notion," he says, and Arum's scales prickle at the indulgent tone in his voice, "but that is no longer quite true, I should say."

Arum pauses, stewing in that assertion for a moment before he retorts. "He may have," he rumbles, attempting to smooth over his discomfort with cool, patient anger. "I have not."

"Hm," Damien says. "Yes, not to your memory, I suppose. I am sorry as well that we shall be so unevenly matched in this endeavor, friend monster."

"I will not tie two hands behind my back if you think that will make us more even, littl-"

"Oh," Damien laughs, "no, rather the opposite, in fact. It might be rather more fair if we gave you all the rest of your knives to match my one, I think, but I imagine that may injure your pride rather more than you would allow."

Arum pulls his head back, his lip curling over his teeth in a shocked sort of fury. "What?"

"I've a rather distinct advantage, I'm afraid."

Arum's eyes scrape down Damien's body, his lithe frame, his loose, unprepared stance, the knife held so casually in one delicate hand, and then raise up again to his smug smile. Arrogant thing, he thinks, hissing disdainfully. In need of a lesson. Arum should end this foolish little duel before it begins.

Arum darts forward, faster than a human should be able to see, but-

But Damien moves, a breath before Arum does, backstepping around Arum's lunge without even raising his knife.

"Ah," he says calmly as Arum exhales in shock. "So, we have begun, then? Very well, Lord Arum."

In the heartbeat it takes for Arum to regain his senses, the knight shifts his stance and raises his arm, scraping the length of his blade along Arum's own in a fluid motion, and as Arum flinches back Damien takes a calmer step away and assumes a stance-

A stance that tickles familiar in the back of Arum's mind.

A distraction, whether intentional or not, and Arum raises his blade again just in time to block Damien's first quick, testing strike. Arum growls instinctively, and the knight's mouth curves into a small, strange smile as he swings his knife again, an elegant practiced arc, and Arum blocks, catching the blades together.

"I've had quite a bit of practice," Damien says evenly, over the light scraping of metal on metal, "dueling with you, friend lizard." He angles his body, moving his wrist in such a way that he uses their clashing blades to draw Arum's face closer to his own, a molten heat in his eyes that Arum cannot seem to look away from. "Perhaps I should go easy on you, let you warm up a little."

Damien disengages, spinning as he steps away again, his footwork light as the wind, and it is not until he is no longer so close, until he is no longer invading Arum's space with his heat and his musical voice, it is not until he is out of reach that Arum realizes what the poet actually said. He snarls, sputtering as he brandishes his knife between them.

"Go easy on me? Arrogant- absurd, I do not need such practice to simply skewer such a foolish creature-"

"Go on and prove it, then," Damien says, his voice warm and unbothered.

Arum snarls again, crouching lower and watching the human step carefully, edging in an arc around Arum, and then Arum spins, whipping with his tail-

Sir Damien jumps over the tail with ample time, and he does not pause in the descent, swinging his arm down, the blade flashing, and Arum barely deflects the blow, and he needs to roll away to avoid Damien's next two quick strikes.

"Ah, yes," Damien grins wide as he continues to flash his wrist out, relentless as Arum blocks and parries and skips back, trying to get out of range. "It took some time to learn to anticipate that one, I will admit. You've certainly put me on my back more than once with that trick- though you've since needed to find means a bit more clever-"

"Must you-" Arum hisses, ducking, spinning, this little knight is quick, not as fast as Arum in technicality but with each movement Arum makes, Damien aims a blow towards whatever new opening Arum makes. "Must you chatter so, even-" another gasp, and then Arum leaps aside, putting enough space between Sir Damien and himself that he can catch his breath, can manage a sneer. "Not even in this do you cease prattling?"

"If I have breath enough to speak," Damien says, twirling Arum's knife absently between his fingers, "why should I not? I'm quite enjoying my time."

The knight's cheeks are flushed, just barely dark, but his aforementioned breath is even and easy and Arum hisses to hide his own gasping. "Are you?" Arum growls, and something in his stomach twists at Damien's warm smile.

"I always do," he says with a shrug, and then he darts forward, his next set of strikes less swift, but more forceful, more precise. "The exhilaration, the adrenaline of combat, but with the assurance of safety, the knowledge that it will end in laughter, rather than blood- oh, yes, I always take a rather great deal of pleasure in our time together, Lord Arum."

Arum tries to focus on his movements, on holding his ground enough that Damien cannot begin to crowd him backwards again. His words are- distracting, however.

"Is this- your tactic, then? Chattering away, sapping focus-"

"If you cannot focus on your blade and my words at the same time, Lord Arum-"

Arum swings his knife out viciously at that, and Damien grins hard as he spins out of the way. "Ah, there you are-"

His words are distracting- Arum steps back, steps back again, knows that he is losing ground. Damien lashes out, a strike Arum realizes he will not be able to counter, and the lizard throws himself backwards instead, unaware enough of his surroundings that he does not notice the tree behind him until his shoulder collides with it painfully.

"Ah-"

"Oh," Damien pauses, his eyes widening in concern, "oh- are you alright? I didn't mean-"

"Don't patronize me," Arum snaps, ignoring the bruising sting and darting forward. He swings his arm, their blades ringing against each other once, twice, and then on the third blow Damien pushes back enough that they are pressed close, their metal meeting between them with the edges of their blades scraping in a discordant song.

Damien twists his blade oddly against Arum's own, catching the hilts together and wrenching Arum's wrist at an odd enough angle that the lizard needs to lean his body forward to avoid dropping the hilt in pain.

Damien is too close, suddenly, pressing forward at the same time that Arum does, and then he maneuvers his leg just as Arum tries to step away, hooking his ankle behind Arum's and simply allowing Arum's own attempted movement to unsteady him, making his tail swing in a wild arc as he raises his arms to attempt to rebalance, but then-

Damien places his free hand, palm open, directly over Arum's heart, and pushes.

Arum's back hits the dirt before he fully knows what happened, breath escaping in a rush and his knife flying aside with a dull bouncing thud against the ground, and then Damien drops over him, knees on either side of his waist, pinning his lower arms against him as the knight presses his free arm over Arum's sternum like the trunk of a tree, holding him down.

Arum can hardly breathe, not from the pressure but from the surprise, from the rush, from the heat of Sir Damien crowding so exquisitely close, and the knight's eyes are bright and focused and intense. Then, Sir Damien raises his other hand.

The one with which he holds Lord Arum's knife.

Damien swings the blade down, and Arum remembers with self-loathing viciousness the burnt letter from the Senate, remembers the hateful whispery certainty of the hand which wrote the human infection will destroy you-

Arum closes his eyes.

He feels the rush of air on the scales of his face, hears a dull thunk, but-

No pain. No bloom of heat, no pulse of awareness of the blade plunging into his shoulder, his chest, his neck, and his eyes flutter back open in confusion to see how in the name of the Universe the human managed to miss-

The knife is planted in the dirt beside Arum's head; he can see the reflection of his own wide eye in the sheen of the blade. Damien is much closer now- necessary, of course, considering his grip on the hilt, but- but Arum can feel the way his chest moves with his panting breaths, can taste the adrenaline and sweat on the air, can hear Damien's heart, pounding steady, a sturdier beat than the frantic race of his own. The poet stares down at him, his eyes hot and hypnotic, and whatever biting comment Arum intended to make about Damien's aim dies on his tongue before he manages to open his mouth.

"Well, well," the poet says, and his voice is a low, sonorous, strange drawl as he leans heavy over Arum, one hand planted palm-flat to the dirt next to his face, the other (the hand that planted the knife on the other side) trailing up his shoulder, towards his neck. "It looks like the smallest trap is the one you finally fell for."

"I-" Arum blinks. "What?"

"And now," Damien continues, his sharp eyes flicking between Arum's own, "here you are, pinned beneath my claws..."

Damien's hand trails up his neck, his expression far more focused, now, than it had been during the fight, and then he grips Arum's throat, firm and possessive but not hard, not impeding his breath, and Arum- Arum's heart rushes prey-quick even as he understands what Damien is doing.

The words- the nonsense words, not nonsense at all- they must be what Arum himself had said, during one of their duels. Coming from this fierce, surprisingly skillful little creature, they make Arum feel flushed with heat that seems to pulse out from every single inch of his body where Damien touches him.

"A-ah," Arum manages, but not much besides. He cannot even convince himself to struggle against Damien's weight, Damien's hands.

Damien's expression shifts when he realizes that Arum has caught on. He leans closer, his grip on Arum's throat pressing gently to tilt his head to the side, letting him lean closer to murmur in Arum's ear.

"I love to make you panic," he breathes, and Arum flexes all his claws at once. "The sound of your pounding heart makes my stomach growl."

Arum-

Laughs. He cannot quite help himself, despite the fact that his heart is, in fact, pounding, and Damien blinks in surprise.

"Did I- did I really- I said that to you?" he manages, still feeling too hot, too crowded. Sir Damien is... very close.

The poet manages something like a smile, then, though he does not look happy. Arum imagines that he had been hoping... well, hoping that his words would trigger what the physicality of their duel did not. "You did," he says quietly, and his grip on Arum's neck softens, his thumb brushing along Arum's jaw in a way that makes his scales tingle with electricity. "Before you decided not to kill me."

Arum... is not quite certain, about that. Arum knows himself- likes to think he knows himself, at the very least, knows the layers of his lies, and if Damien's words are truly an echo of Arum's in the past, then Arum does not think he could have more obviously begged the knight to acknowledge him, to banter back, if he had outright said so. Could not have said that he preferred Damien alive more blatantly if he had presented his own neck for the blade instead. Perhaps he had not admitted it even to himself, yet, but-

"Ridiculous," he mutters, low and less biting than he would prefer.

Damien leans back, just slightly, his tawny eyes flicking between Arum's own, and his expression softens from his strained smile, going earnest and mournful and strange. He hesitates, biting his lip, and then he lifts his hand from Arum's jaw, drifting his fingers up the scales of Arum's cheek. His touch still feels- hot, sparking, as if the contact were prompting a small fissure of magic at the point they meet, and Arum holds his breath so that he does not gasp, instead.

Damien swallows, his heart beating a little faster, and then his lips part.

"Do you want... to try this?" Damien murmurs, his voice thick with sorrow and desire. "To try... us?"

Arum's breath catches in his throat, and he cannot seem to tear his eyes from Damien's-

He realizes, after a heartbeat, that he does not want to.

"I..." Arum swallows, tries to feel anything besides desperate and wanting. He tries, but- but their eyes, their voices and their tears and their hands- the sound of their hearts- the way the keep reaching for him- "I- I do. I do, Damien, I-"

Arum leans up. He feels- cracked through, his defenses tattered beyond salvage, if they want him- if they truly want him- Arum wants to try, to see if he is capable of earning the loyalty and affection these creatures continue to offer, again and again despite how viciously Arum pushes their hands aside. He wants to. He leans up, because he wants Damien to lean down.

Damien's eyes widen, his breath hitching, his muscles tensing, and Arum realizes with a sensation akin to his stomach falling through the floor that Damien's words were not the true question he assumed they were, not now, not in this moment, they were only-

Another echo. Another attempt to trigger a memory that Arum simply does not have. He was not asking- he does not want-

He does not want me, Arum thinks. He wants back only what he once had.

Arum drops his head, his horns pressing indents into the dirt beneath him, and he closes his eyes. Foolishness- foolishness he cannot even deny, now, and for what? For Damien to flinch away from him, to furrow his brow and pull back-

"Off," Arum manages through his teeth. "You've won."

"Arum, I'm-"

"Get off," he snarls, and when he feels Damien flinch above him he adds, quietly, "please."

The knight pulls away. Arum feels cold, and he hears Damien's feet scuffing in the dirt as he moves to stand again, and Arum forces himself to open his eyes again. He curls up, rolling to sit so he can rub at his shoulder for a moment, pretending to test the bruise to give himself a moment to breathe. His eyes flick up despite himself, just as Amaryllis reaches to grip Damien's wrist, squeezing with her lip twitching in a small, comforting smile, and some of the churning despair on Damien's face eases, and then they both look towards him, and Arum drops his eyes back to the dirt with his insides burning, and he hates-

He wants-

He digs his claws into the dirt and then shoves himself to stand. He brushes off his cape, and reaches down to retrieve his blades to slip back into their sheaths.

"Well," Arum says. "I suppose we should be grateful that none of us got our hopes up."

[End Notes: I really don't know very much about How Fighting Works, forgive me <3 ]

#elle's fanfic #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #lord arum #sir damien #amaryllis of exile #going through changes ripping out pages #aaaaaAAAaaaAAAA DUEL TIME

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zelskzerker · 3 years

Text

Mangadex went down so I read alot 5/7

Let’s CONTINUE reviewing isekai and related stuff.

Youjo to Scoop to Maganou

Chapters 1-13

THUMBS UP. [Insert isekai startup here] but this time the MC is just a normal salaryman dude who has Evil Eye. He doesn’t start out OP in this. He starts off like a normal dude. Practical, yet kind. Not an idiot and not omniscient. An easily relatable adult. But the theming of this manga is spot on making it so that what happens in his isekai ,i.e. him reaching his breaking point and just GLARING WITH CURSE ENERGY explains him as a character and foreshadows actions he takes later. Also of note is the fluffy companion, Lourie. Absolutely adorable princess knight she is. Wanna see her succeed in a similar way to Fran. Except Lourie has way more delusions of grandeur and its funny. Final thing, MC fighting with kicks is pretty based. Art is great.

Koko wa Ore ni Makasete Saki ni Ike to Itte kara 10-nen ga Tattara Densetsu ni Natteita

Chapters 1-19

A reincarnation(kinda) style manga featuring aliens. Both ayylmao and cthulu tiers. Typical of them, they have great art and fights. The MC of this one specifically has a speciality magic that is cool to see. Well written it that it loops back to answer questions and provide backstories at times as well. Gotta like Luck’s pluck. THUMBS UP.

Eiyuu-ou, Bu wo Kiwameru tame Tenseisu

Chapters 1-13

[Insert reincarnation startup here] but this time its a genderbent battle maniac. What more can I say? THUMBS UP. Real nice art.

Saijaku Tamer wa Gomi Hiroi no Tabi o Hajimemashita.

Chapters 1-7

A beuatifully drawn little manga that straddles cute and sad. A little girl is run out of her village due to having a weak skill and ultimately she has to run away from the place that wants her dead. She has to live in the forest and rummage through garbage, but eventually she finds a monster she can tame. THUMBS UP. Feels good for a weak little girl just trying to survive in the world. Also its an isekai but that isn’t really important.

Tensei Kyuuketsuki-san wa Ohirune ga Shitai

Chapters 1-30

THUMB IN THE UPPER CORNER. [Insert isekai startup here] but this time its a genderbent vampire. It is also kinda a slice of life adventure. Argento Vampir, the MC, just wants to find a place to sleep. Although plot happens, it can be a bit hard to comprehend in the latters chapters minus money dungeon, and the pacing can feel all over the place. But it is still a nice ride if you accept it as a slice of life lackidasical journey rather than an adventure towards a goal. Also adorable yuri throughout.

Boukenka ni Narou!: Skill Board de Dungeon Kouryaku

Chapters 1-21

This is an odd manga. First off, its a reverse isekai aka dungeons started appearing in the human world and caused a semi-apocalypse. So now salarymen go risk their lives in dungeons. MC gets the power to... do skill points? Whatever. The more important part about the MC is how insane he is. In a cute way. First of all he cannot be recognized as an entity normally. His prescence is just that low. And of course, as an aspiring hero, this hurts. BUT he can be recognized whenever he wears this creepy possibly a scam possibly not wooden mask. ONTOP OF THAT he is incredibly powerful for his means and talented, but is often faced with ridiculous tasks or surrounded by such amazing people that he doesn’t recognize his own skill. Always kinda funny to see character who cannot comprehend their own power and always undersell themselves. THUMBS UP. For just how weird the setting is and lovable the MC is.

Maougun Saikyou no Majutsushi wa Ningen datta

Chapters 1-18

This one is... tiring. [Insert isekai startup here] but this time its a demon general who is actually a human. And also the Demon Lord is also an isekai person who is roleplaying oda nobunaga. This manga is almost there and has interesting parts, but ultimately its not enough for me. Not interesting enough war machinisms for a war story, not interesting enough mystery for an isekai, and not interesting enough themes or characters for a story. THUMBS DOWN. Seen it all done better by other stuff on this list.

Isekai Meikyuu no Saishinbu o Mezasou

Chapters 1-19

This manga is surprisingly good in two elements. First is the character relationships. The relation between jaded isekai MC Sieg and the crossdressing adventurer Dia is wholesomely and slowly built up and that makes the second element, the boss battle, even better. The boss that is fought is a truly amazingly drawn fight. From what is revealed about the world, about Sig and Dia’s powers, and even just how the boss exists and is drawn is truly superb. Worth reading just for that fight. THUMBS UP. And then after that fight setting up a whole new dimension to Sig/Dia character dynamics going forward makes me want more.

6-sai no Kenja wa Hikage no Michi wo Ayumitai

Chapters 1-10

Wow. They fucked up a shota [insert reincarnation startup here] story. And the reason why is due to lack of theming. The great reincarnation mangas put their foot down about theming, why the character reincarnated and what their goals or plans are in an aged world. This one has none of that. MC reincarnated just because they wanted an easy life, but instantly messed that up and are right back on the same path as their previous life. Also incredibly weak world building and setting make it VERY underwhelming if compared to any other reincarnation story. THUMBS DOWN.

Potion-danomi de Ikinobimasu!

Chapters 1-33

This one made a lot more sense once I realized that the author pretty much made their own subgenre of “powerful girl in isekai that has ridiculous crazy godtier unstoppable overpowered skill and is also super smart and scheming their way out of any situation”. Because that happens all the time in this one. Don’t expect the MC to actually make any notable progress towards her main goal though. Despite all her smarts, her own kinda evil nature, constant scheming, and known overpowered abilities keep setting her back 20 steps for every 20 she leaps forward. Fun if not repetitive a bit. THUMB IN THE UPPER CORNER.

Berserk of Gluttony

Chapters 1-35

This is kinda similar to Danmachi in that its in a videogame-esque world with quantifiable levels, is not an isekai, has a specific well explored mythos(Greek gods/gods in general for danmachi, seven deadly sins for Berserk of Gluttony), and most importantly ITS GOOD. The female lead in this is a driven and good person that is never a damsel in distress, yet the MC still supports her from the shadows. The other sins are goofy, tragic, and mysterious. The holy trifecta of admirable characters. Typical of seven deadly sins stories, the MC has to fight of urges, and that the fact that it is tied into the level system really makes the story feel modern in a certain way. With the advent of isekai and more video-game esque worlds, it is a happy marriage of modern and classical concepts. THUMBS UP.

Henkyougurashi no Maou, Tensei shite Saikyou no Majutsushi ni Naru

Chapters 1-9

THUMBS UP. Gotta love the reincarnation stories. Especially since this one starts with the tale of an immortal vampire and how that kindly demon lord had to be killed by the people he protected and loved. Heartbreaking to see all the conspiracies laid against Nosferatu for his mere existence. And yet there isn’t a bit of ill intent or vengeance in him. Good art, well paced, and just generally has a good air about it that is a bit hard to describe.

#Youjo to Scoop to Maganou #Koko wa Ore ni Makasete Saki ni Ike to Itte kara 10-nen ga Tattara Densetsu ni Natteita #Eiyuu-ou Bu wo Kiwameru tame Tenseisu #Saijaku Tamer wa Gomi Hiroi no Tabi o Hajimemashita.#Tensei Kyuuketsuki-san wa Ohirune ga Shitai #Boukenka ni Narou!: Skill Board de Dungeon Kouryaku #Maougun Saikyou no Majutsushi wa Ningen datta #Isekai Meikyuu no Saishinbu o Mezasou #6-sai no Kenja wa Hikage no Michi wo Ayumitai #Potion-danomi de Ikinobimasu!#Berserk of Gluttony #Henkyougurashi no Maou Tensei shite Saikyou no Majutsushi ni Naru

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