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nnightskiess · 8 days

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everytime you leave, part five

₊° - 𝐲𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐠 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴.

everytime you leave, masterlist

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗽𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝘀. 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 <3

With the sound and sensation… of her heart beating loudly in her ears, Yennefer found it hard to fall asleep. Unease, restlessness, but yet also the feeling of being in control, of being right where she should be, accompanied her daydreams as she tossed and turned beneath the covers. The windows rattled as another harsh gust of wind slapped against the walls of Aretuza, but while it had been a sound that had kept her wide awake during her first few weeks, it served as a comforting lullaby now. At least in this room, void of judgemental stares, void of feelings of envy and hatred, she could come closer to who she was before coming here. Alone and imprisoned with only her thoughts to keep her company. The wind continued to howl as the dancing flames in the fireplace barely managed to keep her from freezing. It was a particularly stormy night on the Isle of Thanedd. So high up this hill, at the foot of the ocean, Aretuza was often the first victim of the land’s ruthless weather. But it was nothing like she’d seen before. It was as if the rain pelting against the glass and the wind crying out were both begging to be let in, to comfort the newest addition to the Brotherhood. Yennefer could only imagine how you must be feeling right now. Cold and frightened of the unknown. She knew, because she had felt the exact same. And alone, most of all. Sure, she favoured some people over others, but Yennefer could never truthfully admit she had friends. That would be a lie. No one had ever been her friend, and being in Aretuza hadn't changed that. If anything, she'd shut down each and every attempt at a friendship, suspecting they made fun of her behind her back anyway. And she’d prefer to not have any friends. She’d stay to learn what she needed, to take care of herself as a mage in this world. Then she’d go and use that power and knowledge to live her own life. She was the worst of her class anyway, so what use would the Brotherhood have with her?

Her mind wandered back to you as the wind howled again. Somehow, as she’d looked into those eyes that had spat fire at her, she’d seen recognition. Familiarity, something kindred. It had given her a sensation she’d never felt before. Hope. Because there was hope in the power she felt rumbling through her veins the minute you locked eyes. She’d seen you as easy prey for the other mages the minute she’d watched Tissaia bring in your defeated form, seen you tattered and burned and bruised, and heard you banging against the door. She felt a little bad at the relief that washed over her, thinking that perhaps you'd be the next freak show with all those burns, that maybe you'd be even worse than her in classes and she wouldn't have to face Tissaia's wrath anymore. Then the littlest voice, hidden behind thick walls inside her, had wondered if maybe, she shouldn't pit against you. Maybe, she could finally have a friend, one as ruined as she was. Someone who understood her, who could see past the ugliness. But no, you were just like everyone else.

Yennefer closed her eyes, her eyebrows furrowed as she bit her lip until it bled. Her body was restless— it itched, it burned, it pinched and it was feverishly hot and piercing cold all at the same time. Yet her mind was even worse. The number of different things she smelt made her dizzy and nauseous— from the smell of blood, fire, and scorched earth, to that of summer rain, something flowery and, funnily enough, that of an apple tart. It was so specific, that it kept plaguing her, keeping her up. As if it was part of a memory she should have remembered and that it wouldn’t leave her senses until she did. Then there were the flashes of memories she saw when she closed her eyes— from the sun peaking through the thick canopy of treetops, a cellar stocked with food right before a harsh winter, muddy hands ploughing through the earth, the feeling of the cold water of a lake dancing against her thighs, to horses crying out and galloping in hopes to diminish the flames burning them alive. She heard screams, the soft trickle of a river, a song being hummed, and the bubbling of a large fire. Surely she must still be hallucinating, a direct result of the herbology class that had gone wrong today, where Tissaia had given them something to chew under false pretences just so they could learn to always keep their wits about them and stay alert. Because these rushes of smells and sensations weren’t hers, not all of them, at least. Perhaps this was another one of Tissaia's tests. They’d probably all wake up tomorrow, exhausted from the lack of sleep, and have the hardest test ever to train how well they’d do in the difficult circumstances of little sleep and even less concentration. Because Yennefer had none left of the latter. And when Yennefer couldn’t concentrate or control herself, she’d grow irritated, but more importantly, she’d become a danger, waiting to explode. Because that was Yennefer— she’d never implode. When she was annoyed, everyone would know. When she was mad, everyone would have to deal with it. Perhaps she was born like that, or she’d made it part of her defence after coming here. She, herself, was her most-priced possession now. But on the other side of the hall, hidden behind thick bricks and in the dark of the night, you were waiting for not the explosion, but the implosion. And when it came to you, an explosion would inevitably follow after that. You would only explode after imploding, after being hurt, defied and beaten. And after the events that had happened, you were waiting for another big bang to occur.

With your body shivering from the cold, you jumped as the windows clattered once more, the pelting rain finding amusement in it. They were making fun of you, you were sure, pointing fingers and not even trying to hide their grins and chuckles behind their hands. You were defeated. You were heartbroken. Exhausted to no end. But while everything in you screamed for sleep, a louder voice screamed with images, smells and sounds that had painted the nightmare of the last few days. It terrified you. Not even a few days here and somehow the mage in you had been unleashed more often than since your birth. Perhaps that was just an aftershock of this conduit moment Tissaia had been talking about. Or was this place some sort of amplifier? Or was everyone plagued by their terrors and were they just better at shutting them out?

You released a shaky breath when you swallowed back a sob. In the cold of this room, during this storm, all you longed for was your mother’s warm embrace, the way she’d comfort you with a hummed song, or how she’d bake her favourite tarts during the first day of winter. But you didn’t deserve warmth, nor did you long for it. Not anymore. Not after you’d seen what followed heat. The destruction it had left. You didn’t deserve to long for your mother or your family when you had been the one who’d brought them to their doom. And even while you tried to get those images to comfort you, an unfamiliar sensation washed over you. It had hit you as hard as the wind making the windows clatter. Unfamiliar sights and smells ensnared your mind. You could smell the waste of fruit and vegetables combined with the rotting of wet hay. You saw a pigpen, a well and a table full of kids. There were only three chairs, but no one seemed to mind eating their platter on the ground. A happy family, you presumed. But then your body shook with a sensation you’d only recently truly learned and embraced— anger. It grew warm, made beads of sweat tickle your forehead and made you let out a whine in pure fright. Not again. Not here. The only comfort you found was the humbling realisation that your hands and fingers were still freezing. So long as they were, nothing would happen. You saw a couple of kids again, heard them laughing, and watched as you were then pushed to the ground, your body jolting in your bed in real-time.

The wind cried out again, and you were back in your room. You had wanted to stay awake, not wanting to be caught off guard in this place, not feeling safe enough to rest, nor liking the way the door wasn't locked, meaning everyone had acces. But after all these visions had kept you restless, you’d prayed to fall asleep and just be rid of them. Only, how could you sleep in a room as cold and damp as this one and in total darkness? How could you be sure there was no one lurking? And why had that thought even crossed your mind? The sudden thought of it made you shoot up in your bed. Though you’d never truly realised the root of all these weird things happening in your life had been chaos, you had always been a girl very trusting of your gut, your inner instinct. That was exactly why your heartbeat stammered and bounced between your two ears.

You pushed your legs over the edge of the bed and let your eyes search the darkness to see if there was any proof of your suspicion. You racked your brain to try and remember if there'd been anything useful in this room to defend yourself with, but you figured that they'd taken that away, seeing as you could harm yourself with it, too. The windows clattering in their hinges caught you off guard as your head snapped to them, where they still mocked your fright. The air changed and grew a little stuffy, as if a palpable sense of power had engulfed you, trying to dominate you. It elevated your senses and your chest rose up and down in shallow breaths. Your body started to prickle like it would whenever you’d fallen asleep on a limb resting in an uncomfortable position. You squeezed your eyes shut, frozen in fear, longing for your mother like a young child. You pushed a quiet sob out at the realisation that you didn't even remember the last time you'd hugged her. Your heartbeat sped up, but it wasn’t the warmth of tears that you felt on your face.

It was a hand, cupping against your lips, pushing harshly to muffle any sound that would escape.

“Not a sound.” Hushed a voice, which you could only hear because it had spoken so close to your ear. Stricken with fright, you fought your head out of their hold, eyes snapping open and immediately looking into the lilac eyes of the girl who had given you such a warm welcome earlier. With the same big eyes she had pierced your gaze mere hours before, you took in her face again. You reached forward, both your hands pushing at her chest to create some distance.

Yennefer stumbled backwards.

“You come into my room, unannounced, and jump at me from the dark?” You voiced, eyes wide and breathing fast.

Yennefer didn’t feel like wasting her breath on starting a discussion with you, not this time, not when she was already this exhausted.

“You’re too loud, quiet your damn mind or I fucking will.” Yennefer huffed, standing back up to her full height, as much as she could. She watched you, eyes full of fire, but her bottom lip pouting out made her look less intimidating than she wanted to be.

Baffled, you reached forward again, an accusatory finger pointed Yennefer’s way, “Get out of my room!”

"You know that they let a girl die in that bed four days ago?" She stated matter of factly, ignoring how your eyes widened, then glanced around your room. It was as if Yennefer found joy in tantalising you, “Why’s your fire out? Do you want to see how long it will take you to freeze to death? Desperate to set the record of how quick someone can die after arriving?”

Yennefer shrugged, continuing her one-way conversation, "Good luck with that then, they won't let you if they don't want you."

“I said get out.” You sneered in a whisper, still aware that Yennefer was in your room, during this time of night. You didn't know if this visit was breaking any rules, though you supposed it did. And Tissaia had warned you to keep to yourself for now.

“Why? It’s finally quiet, isn’t it?” Yennefer challenged, staring at your idle form on the bed.

She was right, you quickly realised. The thoughts were gone, the sensations now a mere memory.

You wondered, “Did you do that?”

“I can’t control your mind, we haven’t learned that yet. You did that yourself.” Yennefer grunted out the last part with a bitter taste in her mouth, realising that with your arrival, she might have to prove herself even harder. You weren't as useless as she deemed you to be when you'd looked halfdead already when Tissaia had carried you in. But she wouldn't let you have the satisfaction, “Be grateful, me coming here finally distracted you from those damned apple tarts of yours.”

Shocked, confused and intrigued all the same, you sat back up, “How did you know that?” You could faintly smell them already even at the mere thought of them.

"Know what?"

"About the apple tarts?"

Yennefer's shoulders tensed in irritation, “It’s something mages can do, transfer thoughts and visions... memories and such. Someone I know showed me that before. But that was by touch... and now I was on the other side of the hallway.” Yennefer let her words carry out in wonder, her voice dying down as the words she spoke found a place in her mind.

“But how did you know they were mine?”

“Didn't you come here covered in burns? All I saw was fire at first. It made sense.” Yennefer watched intently and saw how her words had struck you harder than she’d meant. But she couldn't let herself feel bad about it, not when you already had one on her without having even attended a single class, “Besides, all of us longed for home the first few weeks we came here. Don’t worry, they’ll chant that out of you, too, together with all you loved and knew of your life before. A puppet for the Brotherhood," Yennefer huffed, her thoughts wandering off, "That was your mother? Humming?”

You locked your jaw and threw off the linen sheets still half draped around your legs, being overcome with heat, hatred, and frustration. All the results of losing control of the situation.

You knew you should tell her to go and take control of the situation before things would go very wrong again. You could push her out if she didn't listen. But the way she'd asked if it had been your mother... well, it had irked something inside of you. So, instead, with a defying grin, you shot back, “You had quite a lot of siblings, a nice family, two loving parents, yes?” You decided to play by her rules and watched the tension in Yennefer’s uneven posture grow.

“Have.” Was all the lilac-eyed girl declared through gritted teeth.

“But didn't you just say that once you’re brought here, you begin a new life, fully devoted to the Brotherhood?" Yennefer's earlier explanation made it clear that some of the things you'd seen, had belonged to her mind. So, you added, "Or are you truly so keen on going back to the family that had you sleep among the pigs?” You knew it was low, that it went too far, but you could not help yourself. You were hurt, and she had known and made it hurt even worse anyway.

Yennefer took a step forward, hands balled in tight, white-knuckled fists, breaths puffing out of her nose. She hid her surprise and hurt and masked it with anger, as she always did. You were a worthy opponent in this clash, but she knew she had the upper hand after having seen flashes of your life.

“At least I have a family to return to.”

Within an instant, startling even Yennefer who masterfully hid it behind an intrigued glance, you jumped up. Face to face, you could feel Yennefer’s warm breath tickle your skin in intervals, your own fanning that of Yennefer as well. She watched intently, waiting for what would happen next. Letting you make the next move so she would know exactly how to one-up you.

But what had started as eyes reflecting hatred, turned to eyes full of tears soon after. She quickly realised she’d gone too far. She’d brought someone down to the lowest place in existence, a place that wasn't foreign to her, and she hated how the sudden feeling of euphoria and power tapping against her chest had disappeared. The scars on her wrist started to pulse as if they were berating her.

The fire in your eyes and belly had just been lit as if a Witcher had stood behind you and cast Igni over your shoulder. You watched as Yennefer’s eyes softened slightly and a sense of understanding replaced the harshness. You could not watch the change happen for too long, because her face disappeared from your view entirely a second after.

Yennefer’s only instinct was to duck when the shrill sound of glass shattering with high force rang through the room. Shards and glass particles danced around you before falling to the floor in a cacophony of deadly crystal rain. Where other pieces fell idle on the floor, some had thrown themselves into the hardwood floors, sticking out like shiny traps.

You had ducked down not long after, trying to peek through the arms that had shielded your face from the shards. The floorboards buzzed in the aftermath.

“Get a hold of yourself!” Yennefer yelled above the rain and wind that had finally been welcomed inside, as the piercing cold slapped against your faces. Your panic only intensified when you realised you had been the one behind this blast as you looked down at where you stood, the shards having stopped in a circle around the two of you. There had been no fire for your chaos to latch onto, so it had taken the next best rumbling thing to attract— the storm outside.

Yennefer’s words had caused the implosion inside of you before the explosion currently unwrapping around you had introduced itself. What terrorised your thoughts even more, was the realisation that a slight vortex of wind had started to take shape around the room, slowly collecting whatever stood in it.

The storm had answered your beckoning, but now you kept quiet, so it decided to do its own thing.

“Cut it off!” Yennefer shrieked, her hands flailing around her in the dark before finally coming across one of your wrists. She found the other not long after and used them to harshly yank the two of you fully onto the ground. She squeezed the blood out of your hands, no doubt leaving bruises in the flesh. Then she yanked again, a silent but urgent plea to stop whatever you were doing, and to stop it now.

Instantly, the room went oddly quiet, aside from the occasional object slowly losing its movement and coming to a spinning or falling end. It was as if the world had stopped momentarily, as the howling and clashing of the storm now seemed further away than it ever had before. Another yank on your wrists made you look up into Yennefer’s violet eyes. Your ears popped, and you could breathe again. Sound returned and so did the realisation of the severity of what had just happened. The room was in complete disarray, and, to be fair, so were the two of you.

“What did you do?” Your lips quivered as your eyes took in the destruction and the broken windows, making it easy for the wind to blow your hair into your faces. Still, you could clearly see the violet eyes of the girl in front of you going wide from the accusation.

“How is this my fault?! What the fuck did you do?” Yennefer ricocheted, panic increasing, “You razed this place!”

You inched closer, upping the tension between you, and spoke through gritted teeth, “Because you couldn’t leave me alone!”

The heavy wooden door creaked open, and in walked Tissaia and two other mages, all clearly just woken from their sleep. The two of you turned to the door and you were pretty sure that the women could hear your heartbeat even from their distance.

Tissaia took a step further into the room, examining the damage, cupped her hands in front of her and then inspected the two of you. You pushed yourself back up immediately, but not before sending a nasty glare Yennefer's way. You didn't want to know the amount of trouble she had just gotten you in.

“Can the two of you explain what in the world has happened here and why you are out of bed?” Her stern gaze that spat fire was directed equally between the both of you, and you felt some sense of relief that maybe you wouldn't get all the blame. “Now.” Aretuza’s rectoress spoke slowly, intensifying her stare to make the severity known, if the state of the room hadn’t already done so.

Yennefer stumbled up, locking her jaw and grinding her teeth together. Neither of you said a word.

“Very well. My office.” Tissaia turned around, exchanged a look with the two mages who no doubt were having to stay up to fix the room, and disappeared into the hallway, expecting the two of you to follow her.

“Now you’ve done it.” You huffed and left the room, leaving Yennefer to mutter something under her breath before eventually following, too.

Tissaia was already sitting behind her desk when you arrived and motioned to the vacant seats by dipping her head. Yennefer rolled her eyes and stayed back as she watched you sit down without a protest. Tissaia’s eyes now went to Yennefer,

“Sit or I will make you wish you’d sat on your own accord, piglet.”

Begrudgingly, Yennefer stumbled forward, hating how her uneven posture made her feel small and frail instead of powerful and confident as she sat down.

“Talk.” She directed her venom towards Yennefer first, but the girl shrugged,

“You should really replace the windows of this damned place more often, they’re not prone to this kind of storm, as it seems.”

“They’re protected by Aretuza’s chaos, they’re indestructable. Would you be so kind to tell me how two young mages were able to break a Brotherhood barrier or should we start by why you were not in your own room after curfew?” Still, her stare and harsh words were directed towards Yennefer, who was beginning to find the entire situation all too unfair.

“I don’t know who she is, but clearly it was a misjudgement to take her in. Her control over her chaos is utter shit.” Yennefer started, nudging her head to the left, not sparing you a glance, too frustrated with the situation you’d gotten her in by almost blowing up the place.

“What were you doing in her room?” Tissaia repeated herself, growing impatient at Yennefer’s choice of words.

Yennefer didn't say a word, not wanting to admit to Tissaia that you had already managed to link minds with someone on your first day. Perhaps this was just a fluke, a one time thing. She would not bury her own grave by giving you indirect praise.

"Y/N?"

Your face was set in stone, but Tissaia's glare made you crack, "She came into my room and wouldn't leave."

“And?"

Now Yennefer sat up, "And she tore the place apart, that's it."

"There will be no pointing fingers until I know what happened exactly.”

“I don’t know what happened,” You spoke truthfully, “I felt restless, kept seeing things that had never been seen by my own eyes each time I closed them.”

Yennefer sank into the chair— great.

Tissaia’s face changed at this information, but she kept silent.

“I had lost control again before I realised it was slipping out of my grasp and everything happened all at once. Yennefer found me like that. That is all. Then I wanted her to leave, but she wouldn't.”

Yennefer’s head whipped to the side, her big eyes narrowing and her brows starting to furrow. What were you doing?

Tissaia wrapped her hands together and rested her chin atop of them, staring in a way that made you feel as if she could see right through you. For all you knew, she could, but you desperately hoped that wasn’t a thing mages could do and that it was limited to smells or visions of apple tarts.

It was an awkward couple of seconds as Tissaia kept staring. At last, she sighed and sat back in her chair, tapping a soft rhythm on the armrests as her gaze shifted between the two of you.

“You will spend each afternoon after class in this office and you won’t leave until you’ve succeeded the task I’ve given you. Starting right now.” Tissaia lifted up her finger to signal silence before Yennefer could butt in. Then, she shoved a golden tray across the desk. On it— a vase with one single flower, a blushing pink carnation, and next to it, an empty glass, “You will both transfer the water from the vase into the glass. I want no droplet left in the currently filled vase when you’re done. And if the glass shatters or the flower dies, you will reverse those mistakes as well. Understood?”

Yennefer sank down in her seat. This was advanced stuff considering she had only started at Aretuza a few weeks ago, and her levitation work was abysmal as well, to say the least.

“But I’ve just come here, I don’t know any-” You swallowed down your words at the look Tissaia gave you, the concern of blowing up not only a simple vase but Tissaia’s entire office lost into the background.

“Use your chaos.” She spoke each word with fervor as she looked at you both, as if to convey an ulterior message. One unknown to you, for now. “Control it. Bend it to your will. Direct it, don’t be directed. Learn from each other. But keep it bottled. Always. This world is in balance because all of our chaos is bottled, it is guarded, it is dealt with delicately. And you will now learn to do so, as well.”

She looked at you, then at Yennefer, and she watched your focus shift to the tray in front of you, where the sound of water being poured into a glass appeared. Then, Tissaia stood up and, before she left the room, put out the fireplace. She gave you a sharp look, and you know she'd done it because of you. Her footsteps dissipated in a slow fading echo and the two of you sat in silence for a beat.

Yennefer turned in her seat, confused, and watched as you stared at the carnation.

“Why did you do that?”

“You shouldn't have been in my room, but I was the one who got you in trouble, ultimately.”

"Oh- fuck off," Yennefer rolled her eyes at your chivalry, sensing you were one of those morally good people. The kind of people that wouldn't survive this type of world, but she knew you'd learn soon enough. "Did you forget the part I badmouthed your dead family?"

Your hands clenched, but you willed yourself to keep in control, "I said some unnecessarily mean stuff myself, do you remember?"

"So what? You want to be my friend now?"

"If this is you as a friend, then yeah, because I don't want you as an enemy, coming into my room at night for hell knows what." You bit back but with a slight air of lightheartedness.

Yennefer chuckled dryly and shook her head, “As if I should believe you after what went on between us. Barely even a day here and you're already acting like all the others— sucking up to Tissaia and upholding the peaceful act that we should all be friends.”

You turned in your seat, “You're doing a terrible job of hiding your jealousy."

"You fucking wish."

"Well, what is it, then? Because even if I haven't been here for long, I already know you’re sticking out like a sore thumb among the others-” You saw the split second of hurt on Yennefer’s face as she thought her looks were alluded to, “-by sticking your nose where you shouldn’t.”

“Ah, you seem to know me so well after we’ve only- what? Met twice? Tell me then, why do you think I hate this place?”

“I think you hate it because you don't fit in, and that terrifies you, because you've never fit in anywhere."

Yennefer finally turned quiet. You knew you had hit the nail on its head even before the words had left your mouth. It was too obvious, the insecurity practically painted onto her forehead.

Yennefer stared at the flower that seemed to mock her mood with all its glory. She’d been here for weeks now, and each day, she’d wanted to go back home. Sure, it had been exhilarating to find out she had chaos inside of her, but what good was it if she couldn’t even lift a stupid little pebble? Her conduit moment had forced her into this life, and she hated the lack of choice, yet, she didn’t want to go back to her old life either, to being unwanted and treated worse than the cattle she'd had to sleep next to. But this place… it had brought out the worst in her. Frustration, unhealthy competitiveness, resentment, envy, insecurity, hatred. It had even turned into an attempt to end her life during the first night. Perhaps she had been a little too harsh on you after all. Instead of crying yourself to sleep, you were stuck here with the crazed hunchback you no doubt thought she was. How else could you? Yennefer could feel the way people stared at her, and while it had been awful in her old life, those stares had turned unbearable here. She felt like the ugly goose in a lake full of swans. She was the ugly goose. And if she hadn’t been so self-aware, she would have still known she was by the number of times she’d been called names back home in her village.

But you… you were one of the swans. Perhaps the brightest and most promising of the bunch even when she first saw you filled in muck and burns. Maybe exactly because of that. It showed a conduit moment far greater than freezing a cat or making your mother fat. And if she needed proof, it had been shown to her on a silver platter just now, as the chamber had fallen victim to hazardous destruction by your doing. It was unfair. Powerful and pretty shouldn’t be allowed to coerce together. One could not have the best of both platters, but Yennefer knew that in this environment, that was exactly what was wanted. Being powerful earned respect…fear... but being pretty meant that people would hang onto your every word, would agree with everything you said and would move mountains for you, no questions asked. And, it didn't hurt to get some good attention for a chance. One day, Yennefer knew she would get that chance. But being powerful… well, no ascension could change her chaos. Not really. And the only way she could ascend and become beautiful, was if she was skilled and powerful enough to earn it. No court would want an ugly mage, but a pretty mage lacking the powers a sorceress needed to possess was useless to them, too. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and it had been people like you who’d put her there. People who'd had it all from the beginning, and then whined because they thought they had it worse. Still, she couldn’t help but spark a tiny flicker of intrigue towards you. She was certain you held more magical capabilities with no knowledge of the entire chaos ladder than Sabrina held after months of practice and studies.

“How did you do that, back there, in the room?” She wondered after a while, brushing off how she'd left you hanging on your clever observation.

“You say it in such a tone that makes me think I should be proud of it.”

“Because you should.”

“No, I should not, if you hadn’t pulled me out of it, I would’ve likely taken the entire tower down with us.”

Yennefer licked her lips, “So, what I’m hearing there is an unspoken thank you for not making you a mass murderer.”

Your heart clenched at the awful irony in that, but then you saw the tiniest pull of Yennefer’s lips turn them into a small smile.

Quietly, and feeling defeated as you looked at the golden tray on Tissaia’s desk, you muttered, “It all wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t said those things.”

Yennefer’s trying smile disappeared soon enough, her eyes inspecting the tray as well, “Perhaps.”

“If you try a little harder, it could almost start to sound like an apology.” You quipped back, not missing the fact the girl had at least shown the slightest hint of remorse. Still, her words had hurt, and your heart was still breaking each moment your mind went back to the family you no longer had.

Yennefer shrugged absentmindedly, still in deep thought.

“Well, it’s a very timid one then. You should work on that.”

“What we should really work on is Tissaia’s task. I’ve only just touched upon levitation work, water bending is something else entirely.”

“I’m afraid that tonight I’ll ruin not only my chamber, but this office as well.”

Yennefer watched you shift in your seat uncomfortably, staring at the never-ending rain tapping against the window. Then she huffed out a chuckle, liking the dry sense of humour that had slipped past your lips, even if you didn't seem to be aware of it. Maybe especially because of that reason.

“Tissaia said that a healthy balance is needed. Power must come from something, a sacrifice has to be made.” Her voice lulled you out of your worries.

You thought about it, “The water is practically already there, so that means-”

Yennefer nodded, “-we can use that very same water as a balancing factor while we transfer. It’s already there, there’s no conjuring it. Making sure our chaos is trapped within that water and stays there at all times and doesn’t bounce off, is key.”

“You know a lot.”

Yennefer made a face, “These are the basics that get repeated to us each and every hour. It’s simple.”

“The existence of chaos doesn’t sound so simple. Two days ago I didn’t even know what it meant. I still don’t.”

“Yet you throw it around without care.” Yennefer rolled her eyes, not liking how you sounded just like Fringilla who always acted like she had no clue, but then succeeded within the first attempt. “Maybe you should sit this one out before we go blind by the shards of glass flying into our eyes.”

“She said the both of us.”

“Right, I forgot you were her little lapdog.” Yennefer stood to pick up the vase and inspected it. She pulled the flower out and watched the water dance inside as she swirled it around.

“A carnation,” You noted, continuing as Yennefer turned to you, “You know each colour holds a different meaning? The pink ones have a motherly kind of-”

“I don’t care.” Yennefer huffed in frustration and dipped the flower back into the vase, not having the faintest idea how to get the task done, but she’d felt the rejection in the soft sigh sounding from behind her, “Unless that information will help us out.”

Dejected, you stood up and looked around the office— there were bookcases filled to the brim with books that, no doubt, held a lot of knowledge of chaos and powers; trinkets lined the wooden surfaces above a large chest that looked macabre yet intriguing, pots of plants you didn't want to touch were lined up atop the windowsills, cabinets filled with vails and jars of what you assumed were different kind of herbs, all kinds of different shaped, sized, textured and coloured stones were sprawled out in an organised mess on a table in the corner and finally, the most normal thing in the entire room— a globe of the Continent.

The large bell coming from the tower suddenly broke the silence, ringing thrice to signal the hour of the night.

“Maybe we can find something in these books?” Yennefer followed your actions and she started to let her eyes roam across the bindings to find anything that sounded familiar enough to help. You felt your attention get tugged to the far right, to a row just above your eyesight.

Giambattista's Forces of Elements.

You pulled out the book and read the index, eyes then quickly falling onto the last of the long row of chapters.

Fire Magic and its Dangers.

“What’s that you got there? Elemental Magic?” Yennefer hummed, pulling the book out of your hands and skimming through it, “How to change the weather… how to manipulate the earth… how to… water, water-” She mumbled to herself, “Fire magic?”

Your head leapt up in curiosity, “What does it say?”

Yennefer looked at you, but as soon as she saw the word forbidden in the same sentence, she, too, became intrigued,

“Within the bounds of the usage of chaos, fire magic is strictly forbidden because of its destructive nature and the corrupting effects it has on those who use it. It often leads to dangerous consequences that can cause permanent corruption of one’s chaos and mind and often leads to death. It is the only type of magic that can both destroy and consume and asks the user to tap into the negativity stored inside, making it tempting for one’s chaos to lose control-” She stopped to look at you, but you ushered her to go on,

“The usage of fire magic often comes with a heavy price, for with this kind of chaos, the sacrifice is far greater than the result.”

“Chaos comes at a cost.” You nodded, having learned that the hard way.

“Starting to learn already,” Yennefer mumbled absentmindedly before skimming further through the book, “Here- Standard Practices of Bending Water. To bend water to their will, one must first focus on the balance to keep their chaos strapped within bounds before continuing to ground one’s existing being to find the balance around them. A strong mind and solid and rested soul are the key to directing an elemental force that can both bend, mend, block and destroy. As water isn’t afraid to burn in fire, fade into the sky, drown into the dark shroud of the earth or shatter against sharp rocks in rainfall, it is the most versatile element there is. It can dissolve into different kind of shapes depending on the mage’s needs. Water is both our up and down and can be found both above us in the sky or below us in the earth and is therefore the easiest found elemental balance, but not the easiest used. Great-” Yennefer muttered before continuing, “Because of its many states and forms, it is hard to use chaos to bend water to your liking. Young mages might find chewing or burning dried mint or lemon skin beneficial to hone this skill, as those are known to have natural properties that can help remove impurities from water, removing any contrarian factors and thus making the transition to use one’s chaos to bend this element easier." Yennefer clapped the book closed, "Well, that was a load of bull.”

“It didn’t say anything about transferring water?”

“Nothing about incantation either.”

“There are incantations you can use?”

“Another thing learned,” Yennefer sighed out uninterestingly.

Your eyes examined all the books in front of you, “You know, kindness would suit you."

“Like that’s ever gotten anyone anywhere in this world.”

“Wow, someone must have really hurt you for you to be this bitter.” You huffed, done being kind, proving Yennefer’s point, and walked to Tissaia’s cabinet full of herbs. You read all the labels on the pots, which were thankfully placed in alphabetic order, “Here, mint leaves.”

Yennefer put one in her mouth, started to chew, and grabbed the vase with water in one hand, the empty glass in the other.

“The book said to ground yourself first.”

“I am grounded.” Yennefer snapped sharply.

“I can see that.” You shot back.

Yennefer felt the inside of her mouth tingle from the mint and tried to focus on the water. If she could just make a ripple, anything, to show she could move the water, she’d feel a lot better.

“Maybe try removing the flower. It might interfere since it’s a living thing and could use the water as power to stay alive?”

Actually, Yennefer thought, that wasn’t such a daft comment, but fuck did she hate how you had been the one to make it. She watched as you plucked the carnation out of the tiny vase, twirling it in your fingers.

“Or, maybe, you could use the flower, too? Since it holds chaos, right?”

Once again, Yennefer hated how sharp your observation was. Tissaia had said to use whatever was at hand to provide the balance they needed, and you had heeded her advice. She looked at the flower dangling in front of her, stared at you before whisking it out of your hands and setting her teeth into a few petals. They didn’t taste nearly as good as they smelt, but that was of no importance to her now.

"What are you doing?!" You couldn't help but ask, finding it incredulous. But Yennefer ignored you, liking how she knew what she was doing this time, and you had no clue. It let her ease up a bit again. She'd had hours of lessons, you hadn't.

“If this all doesn’t work, we could just pour the water from one glass to the other,” Yennefer sighed, surprised that you let out an honest laugh.

“I don’t think she is one to fall for such tricks. Suppose she wants to see us do it.”

“Right,” Yennefer muttered, licked her lips, rolled her neck and clenched her jaw shut again, severely focusing on the water. Seconds passed. A minute. Then two. Nothing happened. She was feeling the exhaustion from the lack of sleep now, and her mind was still a little fuzzy from the class experiment. Yennefer started to shake and you reached out to stop her trembling hands, “Maybe you should-”

“-maybe you should shut up and let me do it!”

A cold splash hit both your hands as the water from the vase got blasted out. She looked at the water soaking up the floorboards, then at you.

“At least it’s out of the vase…”

Yennefer glared at you, “I almost had it! I could feel it start to move!”

“Sure, it just went the wrong way. It really looked like you knew what you were doing." You were starting to grow sick of how she kept snapping at you, "Look, we can just try again. There’s a pitcher over there."

You refilled it for her, “Go.”

Yennefer stared at you, at the way your brows were furrowed at her in slight annoyance... but also in slight intrigue, as if you were desperately waiting to see what Yennefer could bring forth.

Yennefer bit off another petal and chewed, starting all over, but with more confidence this time. She looked to her left again, right into your eyes and felt she could take a deeper, more grounded breath this time as it travelled all the way to her lower abdomen. Her fingers tingled, her chest warmed up, then her neck, then her arms and ultimately, her hands. The water started to bubble, splutter and dance against the edges of the vase as if Yennefer was tumbling the vase around, but her hands were frozen in place. You leaned in, amazed, this being the first time you'd seen the good kind of chaos. Yennefer closed her eyes, her ears ringing and her heartbeat now loudly pulsing inside her head. Her chaos was speaking to her. It was making itself known, just not loud enough yet for her to answer.

Tissaia approached the room, surprised by the silence. In her line of work, that never really meant good news. She made sure to take each step with great care to not announce her approaching presence. Once at the door, she peeked through the gap and watched. The two girls looked to be in great concentration. Tissaia noticed the opened book, the pot of herbs and the half-chewed-up flower lying dormant on her desk. She could feel the girl’s exhaustion from their previous endeavour, and their chaos hadn’t been spared by trying to get this task completed either.

“Watch your breathing, the water stops when you stop,”

She could hear your muffled voice and watched as Yennefer only nodded and made work of the advice instead of snarking back a reply. The sound of tiny singular drops falling into the empty glass filled the room, but from Tissaia’s spot in the hallway, the only proof that something seemed to be happening, was the gasp that Yennefer released.

Smiling softly to herself, Tissaia took a deep breath and opened the door, catching the two of you by surprise. She made a point to look at the items you had gotten by going through her stuff, without permission, then eyed the glass.

“It’s been a long night, perhaps tomorrow, after some hours of sleep, you’ll be able to transfer more than just a few teardrops.” She took place in front of her desk and leaned against it, watching as you stared at her, still bewildered, “Go now, off to bed. I want to see the two of you here tomorrow.”

“My room-”

“Is back to its original state. I suggest you keep it that way.”

You sauntered off, but before Yennefer could exit too, Tissaia held her back by her arm. She intently stared at the mage’s violet eyes, looking for something behind them, then let go. Tissaia turned around and watched the two of you disappear, knowing something had been set in motion.

*⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

-𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗲𝘀𝘀

#yennefer of vengerberg x reader #yennefer imagine #yennefer of vengerberg fic #yennefer x reader #yennefer of vengerberg imagine #the witcher imagine #the witcher fic

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nnightskiess · 24 days

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Can we appreciate how dedicated pip was to her loved ones

ie. literally staying up until 2 or 3 am just so cara didn’t have to be alone while trying to fall asleep and recreating sleepovers from when they were younger so cara could relive it and be reminded of when times were a lot better

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nnightskiess · 2 months

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just finished the seven husbands of evelyn hugo and it destroyed me. it made me so unbelievably happy. it tore my heart out. it gave me a gentle hug. i am filled with a pleasant hopelessness and bittersweet hope. and peace.

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nnightskiess · 9 months

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can i be tagged in the next chapter of the dance of death?

yes of course! you're added 🤍

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nnightskiess · 9 months

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I miss your Yennefer, okay? Bring her back to us please.

patience, love!! ngl i already miss her like crazy and i've only just finished s3. working on part five rn, i just don't want to rush it and risk ruining things. gotta let it brew like a good old witcher tonic haha. your support means the most🥹

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nnightskiess · 9 months

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Your dance of death series is by far my favorite depiction of Wednesday, not to mention the details of your writing! God bless you.

thank you so much, honey!! it's kind messages like these that oftentimes serve as great pick-me-ups if i need a little motivation to write my fics. although the dance of death has truly written itself so far and i can't wait for you all to read what's to come! all the best! 🤍

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nnightskiess · 9 months

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i am not hard to satisfy, i see your update and boom i am in cloud nine , i sewar you are like a charm and your fic is addictive , i love you and i hope you take care of yourself 🩵

-🧞‍♀️

hey, you lovely human (or genie...!) thank you so so much for popping into my inbox to spread your love. i'm glad the story was able to pull you out of the day-to-day life for a bit. i hope it'll continue to do so <3 you're truly a gem. take care and much love!! 🤍

#🧞‍♀️ anon

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nnightskiess · 9 months

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Hello, you just got recommended on my fyp

Omfg I binged so hard and so fast.

Also your interpretation of Wednesday is PERFECT to the tinest- most little details

have a good day :)

(also can you add me to the tag list for you Wednesday fic?)

<it's okay if you can't, but thank you in advance>

also waiting for part five like 🙇👀

aaah hello hello, this made me grin like an idiot. thank you so much for your kind words!! and don't worry, i've added you! wishing you a wonderful day, love 😊🤍

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nnightskiess · 9 months

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I just read all four parts of your Yen series and I just gotta tell you I’m in tears right now.

I felt every emotion on the spectrum. You’re a phenomenal writer.

I cannot wait to read more.

wow thank you so much, love!!! i'm so so so happy that you enjoyed reading it!! and thank you for spreading some love, this made my day. wishing you all the best! 😘🤍

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nnightskiess · 9 months

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what have you been up to? you were missed here.

believe it or not, i actually still wrote a ton, just not for stuff on here ): but i'm doing my best to change that now, dw. missed you all sm 🤍

#ask ana

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nnightskiess · 9 months

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the dance of death, part four

₊° - 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘥𝘢𝘺'𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩, 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦...

the dance of death, masterlist

☾ ⋆*·:⋆*·:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗽𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝘀. 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥... had made Wednesday zone out the moment she had sat down in her seat, not only because she already held most information that was currently being taught, but also because a certain kind of mystery could not be erased from the forefront of her mind. She hadn't really known what to expect when first enrolling at Nevermore Academy, besides being surrounded by peers 'like her' and knowing she would want to stay in solitude nonetheless. But that the school held such a plethora of mysteries and had welcomed them all to her doorstep, had been a pleasant surprise. If only she hadn't tried her best to not let her parents enrol her at Nevermore, she could have had a headstart on solving all these riddles, murders and myths. But there was no time to solve anything now that she sat trapped in Nevermore's greenhouses, Miss Thornhills enthusiastic voice mixing with the students' quiet whispered chatter and the scribbling of Xavier's pencil.

She had stared intently at Thornhill's enormous venus fly trap plant that rested proudly on the teacher's desk, and had watched it slowly but surely close its leaves to devour the insect it had been given at the start of the class. The carnivorous plant was famous for trapping its prey and taking its sweet time to digest it, making whatever it had trapped squirm and crawl to save its life. It was awfully cathartic to Wednesday. Perhaps she was starting to become a little like this captivating plant; holding on tightly and not able to let anything go right until the end. Wednesday had now put her claws into the mystery of her violin player, and would definitely not let go until she held all the answers to her questions.

Though class seemed to go on and on, watching the plant had been an amusing way to pass the time. The insect's legs shook and trembled as it tried to climb out or squirm itself between the barely shut leaves, to no avail. It was definitely better than listening to Thornhill talk about things she had already read about during her early childhood years, or looking at what the boy beside her was scribbling in his notebook. She had sensed his desire to talk the minute she'd realised the only vacant seat was next to him, but had made him turn back to his drawing, defeated, with only one harsh look. Filling the time with whispered small talk would only be torture to her, and not the kind of torture she often found herself daydreaming about.

The corners of Wednesday's lips curled upwards in satisfaction as she watched the plant finally shut its leave completely. The squirming of the insect against the leaves faded away, but she found herself growing unsatisfied as a realisation hit her; although she might have set her mind on solving her newest mystery, she was not even close to finding answers. Nor did she know where to even start, and that bothered her.

Her mind wandered with each passing minute and she pursed her lips in concentrated thought, falling into the endless pit of everything that had happened after she'd arrived at Nevermore. From Roan to Jericho's murders and monster, to Weems acting strange, her father being involved in a murder and the discovery of the Nightshades, who had enticed her need for answers even further by their condemnation of her quest. Surely, that alone already proved that there was more to the supposed ghost story than met the eye, more than maybe even Weems was aware of. Unless Weems was in on it all, of course. Wednesday had yet to fully pierce through the puzzling exterior of Nevermore's principal.

Through her endless enthusiastic rambling, horrible taste in music and despicable choice for room decoration, Wednesday had actually grown to a level of civilization with Enid, something that had surprised even herself. Maybe it was just because the werewolf had been so kind as to share her findings on her violin mystery or shared her intrigue on it, or perhaps Wednesday just validated how the perky girl had made absolutely no problem of their third roommate, and had even bonded with Thing so swiftly as if it was the natural order of life to befriend a severed hand. To the Addams family, it was, but Wednesday knew how most people lacked the capacity to broaden their boundaries of acceptance and prejudice.

Still, it remained a fact that no one at Nevermore seemed to know of any violin player. Even principal Weems herself had unknowingly helped Wednesday's investigation further as she had confessed to the absence of string music for years until the night of Wednesday's serenade. No matter how pathetically silly the Nightshade Society might have seemed to Wednesday at first glance, there was no denying that they held power with their access to a myriad of books, all of which held knowledge of years of historic events, myths and unsolved mysteries of Nevermore and its surrounding area. It had been the Library that had aided Roan in his suspicions of the girl, which could have resulted in her death if she hadn't been saved by another monster, the Hyde. Perhaps if Wednesday's arrival at Nevermore Academy had already been foreseen by Roan's mother years ago, it could mean that the Nightshade library held more of these foreshadowing theories of demises and unearthings.

Snapping out of the whirlwind in her mind, Wednesday glanced at Xavier. The boy was frantically scribbling away in his sketchbook, concentration holding him in a focused trance. He firmly bit down on his bottom lip as he worked on his shading with a stick of charcoal, but it was as if he could hear the questions dance in Wednesday's head that made him look up. When he realised that Wednesday was no longer entranced by the plant as she had been for the past hour without so much a blink of her eye, he quickly shut down his sketchbook, burying it deep into his backpack right after.

Wednesday lifted a brow at his actions, "If that was what I think it was, then I need you to show me."

"No, I don't," Xavier quickly shot back in a hushed whisper, eyes glancing anywhere but at the Addams girl beside him, knowing he would falter otherwise.

"You need to tell me what you've seen."

He gave her a quick look, nibbled on his bottom lip and let out a quick breath through his nose out of frustration. Wednesday had him between a rock and a hard place; tell her and risk piquing her curiosity even more and making her get herself and the school into trouble, or don't say anything and risk Wednesday wreaking even more havoc as she tried to dig up the dirt her own. Either way, Xavier knew that whichever outcome he would choose, it would turn out horribly one way or another.

He let his eyes wander around the classroom, craning his head over his shoulder to see if anyone was even paying attention to the two of them. But his gaze locked with Bianca, and he could feel her eyes, and those of all the other Nightshades having watched their interaction, bore into the back of his head as he turned back around.

"Not now," Was all he muttered firmly with a stiff lip as he leaned into his right, where Wednesday only reared back from the close proximity. Still, she furrowed her brows in response, not having expected such a quick retaliation. If anything, she had imagined him to keep silent with an angry pout on his lips or a witty rebuttal... maybe even a word of dismay. She lifted her chin and took his apathetic nonchalance with stride, not minding that she had been brushed aside so harshly, knowing he would concede later on. If he would keep his promise, that was. And if he wouldn't, then there would always be a way to get her answer, but then she'd get them on her own terms and she wasn't sure if the boy would look that very much. But she had asked nicely at least once, after all.

Wednesday kept her lips pursed, and this time, kept her gaze locked on the tiny wooden mantel clock on Miss Thornhill's desk, patiently waiting for time to pass. But as she dozed off into her maze of thoughts again, she felt a faint tap on her shoulder. Then again, immediately afterwards, but harsher this time, as if the person had been unsure if Wednesday had even felt at first. Four obvious and harsh taps followed each other at rapid speed and dug into her skin.

She steadily turned around in her seat, uninterested and maybe even a little vexed at the disruption of her thoughts, the audacity of having breached her personal space and the prospect of having to socialize. Yet, as her eyes flashed left and right, no one was behind her, no one able to have reached her shoulder from their distance anyway. She watched as Yoko's head rested against the palm of her hands and how Enid perked up the moment their gazes locked. Then she saw Bianca, who looked at her through squinted eyes. She turned back around, letting her eyes travel across the many plants standing to the side; maybe she could catch Thing hiding behind one, even if she knew damn well that if Thing had been the one behind the taps, both Yoko and Bianca would have looked at her differently like everyone usually did when they first saw the handy addition to the Addams family.

Wednesday brushed it off, seeing no need to dwell on it now. Fifteen minutes and class would be over. Keeping her eyes on the plant that had intrigued her for the first half of class, she suddenly realised that she would need to do her best to stay on the winning side of things, or else she wouldn’t be the victorious carnivorous plant, but the insect it had trapped and killed.

*⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

The greenhouse emptied out quickly, but Xavier gathered his stuff at an excruciatingly slow pace, trying to stall the inevitable, making Wednesday's impatience grow by the second. Finally, he hoisted his backpack around his shoulder and the two left Nevermore's greenhouses, Thornhill watching them leave.

With a soft tug on the sleeve of her blackened Nevermore uniform, Xavier ushered her to a more secluded place outside in the gardens, away from prying ears.

"Listen-" As Xavier sighed and looked around him, Wednesday already knew he was trying to get himself out of the situation as soon as he could, "I know we all owe you an explanation, I know we've been weird, but I care too much about you to risk getting you killed."

"You should know that I happen to find near-death experiences thrilling and delightful."

"Right," He grew uneasy as Wednesday's penetrating glare tore through his eyes, "Still, I'd rather have you alive than dead. And you don't know what you will unleash onto the school if you continue to push on. Please, think this through."

"I appreciate the sentiment, however, you made a promise; to tell me what was shown to you in your drawing."

"I never promised anything."

Wednesday gave him a look, knowing he might have been right with that one, but that she had him in a corner nonetheless.

"Alright! Fine. But honestly Wednesday, you need to swear to let it go. Nevermore's already got enough problems as it is."

"You do realise that I will look for answers either way, with or without your help."

Xavier nodded, a hint of a grimace on his face, "You've made that clear. But look, as much as I hate to say this, if you will ignore our warnings from this point on, we'll have to try and stop you."

"I'll be looking forward to it. Though I hope your attempts to thwart me will be far better than your attempt to kidnap me." She lifted her chin and examined him through squinted eyes. Xavier seemed uneasy, whether that was because he refused to help the girl further or admit to trying to stop her she did not know. Or maybe he seemed so unsettled because of what he had seen in his drawing, "You really are all terrified, aren't you?"

"If you knew what you were digging up, you'd be too."

"To be terrified is a foreign concept to me." Wednesday folded her arms against her chest, "You expect me to back down, yet you make my quest to find answers so much more interesting by being cryptic."

Xavier furrowed his brows, realising his mistake, "Look, you probably misheard it that first night. No one at Nevermore plays the violin or any other string instrument, it's literally impossible for you to have heard it. I know that Miss Thornhill likes her fair share of classical music, perhaps you heard that echo around Ophelia Hall? It's easy to mistake where the sound is coming from in such an old building, you know?"

"Your attempts to sway me are endearing." Wednesday muttered, quickly losing her patience, "Now tell me what you saw."

Xavier locked his jaw and shook his head, "I can't- I won't, but I'll show you the drawing if it makes you back down," He regretfully pulled his sketchbook out of his back, seeming to try and fight his own decision, and flicked through the pages, keeping it open with his hand on the right page to stop the harsh autumn wind from blowing through the pages.

"There, happy now?"

Wednesday watched the drawing with focused intent; Xavier had depicted her holding a violin at its neck, the strings snapped in half and sticking out in a tangle, her eyes filled by the harsh scribbling of his charcoal, with an equally as black silhouette lurking behind her, whose hand rested on her shoulder. What it meant, she did not know, but Xavier did, and it seemed to plague him.

"No, forget about it." He spoke before the words could even leave her mouth, "I've already done more than I should've or wanted to." He was quick to put his sketchbook away in his bag again, when a gust of wind ruffled through the pages, making Wednesday catch a glimpse of another drawing. Deciding to keep her mouth shut, she turned on her heel,

"Thank you for being a regretful waste of my time."

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into, Wednesday."

The corners of her mouth pulled up into the ghost of a grin, "That's exactly why I love it so."

With her mind now even more set on continuing her search, she also had another goal in mind; to find out what other sketches Xavier was hiding. She knew the boy had been drawing this week more than ever, and going by the way he held his sketchbook close to his chest at all times, she knew it was something he didn't want her to see. Maybe her handy little friend would be of much to find out what it was exactly.

*⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

Wednesday could hear the music booming through the stairwell as she walked her way up to Ophelia Hall's attic. Enid was so enthralled singing along to whatever K-Pop band she was fawning over now, that she failed to sense her roomie's presence until the Addams girl stood right in front of her.

"I'd rather watch a video of humans reuniting with their pets than have to listen to your choice of music one minute longer."

"Oh, Wednesday!" Enid's cheek flushed and she quickly hid whatever she had been knitting underneath her duvet. As if she hadn't just been caught, the girl batted her eyelashes, then turned her music down.

"Needed to blow off some steam, all good now. Anyway, I assumed you would be out looking for answers?"

With only an eye roll, Wednesday dropped her stuff near the door and sat back down behind her typewriter, growing frustrated when she couldn't find the right words. What was she going to write about now? About what had happened lately? About her findings? Her research? About Jericho's monster or about her father's conviction? Continue her novel? Or maybe about what she thought was going on with the Nightshades?

"What have you been up to?" Enid interrupted her thoughts. The girl now lied on her bed, her chin resting on the palms of her hands as her legs dangled up behind her in the air.

Wednesday turned around, "Have you seen Thing?"

"Uh, he painted my nails before class. Then he went off. I figured he went to look for you?"

Wednesday bit the insides of her cheeks, perhaps it had been Thing after all who had tried to catch her attention by tapping her shoulder.

Enid excitedly wiggled one of her hands, "He picked Silver Moon, do you like it?"

"It...," She watched Enid's excited and expectant expression as she anticipated Wednesday's answer, and remembered Thing's warning to be less harsh to the girl who tried her best to accommodate her, "...suits you."

Enid's grin only grew wider, instantly keen to keep the conversation going now that Wednesday seemed in somewhat of a good mood. But Wednesday still sat in her chair, back turned towards her again, staring at the wall right in front of her as her thoughts travelled to the depths of her mind.

"Okay... what's going on? You're being more quiet than usual."

Wednesday glanced at Enid, contemplating whether to be honest or not, but then quickly turned back around to type away on her typewriter, the words suddenly begging to be written as they flowed out of her fingers.

"Well, that's not assuring." Enid laughed awkwardly, getting off the bed and approaching with caution. She was yet to completely figure out all of her roomie's tells, her behaviour sometimes still left her baffled and confused, even hurt at times.

"You haven't written that much in days. Does that mean that you found out more about her?" Though Enid wasn't sure about digging up information on the whole mystery anymore after all her friends had tried to turn her away from it, she remained intrigued nonetheless. She'd also given up on trying to convince Wednesday from letting it go, knowing the girl was a stickler for the rules and tended to be like a rabid dog; refusing to let go, no matter who asked.

"I am certain there's more to the story, and I will find out what they're hiding from me." Wednesday turned around, determination etched in her features.

"Okay... but maybe you shouldn't... if what Xavier told me is true, then... well, I don't want you to turn insane. Or get killed. He told me that's what will happen once you hear her play. She'll drive you mad, visit you in your dreams and then come for you!" Enid rushed out in panic and played with her fingers, an adorable saddened and plagued pout on her face. Wednesday could almost feel her heart beat once if it hadn't been for the disgust she felt right after. Enid's words of care had taken her a bit by surprise.

She swiftly pulled herself together, "I acknowledge your worry, but I have to do this." She turned back to her typewriting, a clear sign that this conversation was over, needing to get her thoughts off her chest. "Besides, there's no use dwelling on me losing my sanity since it seems you all think I have no sanity to begin with. And frankly, I'm already looking forward to all the nightmares."

Enid slowly retreated back to her bed, unsettling concern in her eyes and her chest tightening with a feeling of impending danger. Still, she did not utter another word to the Addams girl but granted her the peace she knew she needed. She had mumbled out a quiet goodnight before turning all her lights off, except for the fairy lights around her bed to give her some sense and safety in the dark. But as she had glanced over to Wednesday's bed half an hour later to check up on her roomie, the girl already seemed fast asleep.

*⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

The second Wednesday heard Enid's soft occasional snore, she immediately sat up on her bed. She was a woman on a mission, and she would not let anyone get in her way. Her feet almost floated as she rushed around Nevermore Academy, her mind made up and the determination evident in her walk. Arriving at the Quad, she quickly turned to disappear in the shadowed nook that would lead her to the library, but a sound stopped her in her tracks. An echoed melodious whistled tune bounced against the walls of the Quad, disappearing in the open air of the cold autumn night. Not wanting any Nightshade member, or worse, Weems, to catch her in the act and stop her, she disappeared within the shadows of the dimly lit stone hall. Perking her ears to try and see if she might have misheard, she listened intently for another sound, but none followed.

Turning to the statue, Wednesday snapped twice and watched it open its entrance for her. The gravelling of the statue scraped against the stone tiles and was like a siren in the night, and if Wednesday had kept her ears perked, she would have recognised the melodious tune that echoed against the pillars of the Quad once more, as she had done mere seconds before. Instead, she followed the stairs down, feeling the eyes of the many people in the portraits rhetorically watching her enter the Nightshades Library.

The soft pitter-patter that followed behind her was unmistakenly that of Thing, and she all but rolled her eyes realising he was probably there to put a spanner in her works. She stopped in the middle of the library and watched him fasten his step to catch up to her.

"You'll find yourself to be powerless in your attempt to cease my need to find answers. Besides, where have you been all day?"

Thing was shaking in his place, quickly signing that he was there to protect her before walking right past her. He hoisted himself up onto the many bookcases and hastily skimmed through the titles and covers that were on display. Wednesday watched, her eyebrows slightly raised in surprise, for this was the first time Thing had not tried to keep her away from danger. He had either seen reason in her quest or valued the need of keeping his five fingers intact.

"Where to start..." She quietly muttered beneath her breath, fingers travelling along the many binds of books. Some looked more worn and read than others, some had vivid golden lettering stamped on their leathered covers, and others were barely being held together by their spine.

Thing, knowing the information Xavier had shared with Enid, stopped and turned back to Wednesday.

"What is it, Thing?"

He signed, pointed, tapped and waved chaotically to get his message across. Without struggle, Wednesday recapitulated exactly what he had said,

"It's supposedly a ghost story where when one hears the violin, they're doomed as they await to be killed by her?" She pursed her lips in thought and tilted her head, "How very disappointing, I've never liked ghosts."

Thing signed away again.

"If it holds any truth, then I don't see why I should be terrified. Yes, I've heard her play, but I have also not gone non compos mentis. Yet." Wednesday mumbled absentmindedly, continuing her search for any book that could be of use, "Then again, I already am what people consider deranged."

She crossed the circled room to take a look at the bookcases on the other side, realising she probably needed more of a historic read of the Academy. If this was just a ghost story, it wouldn't have made the members of the Nightshade Society so wary. Meaning that if it held any truth, she was most likely to find something in Nevermore's history. Thing followed her example and worked himself through the dusty rows of forgotten books. It was clear that this side of the library had been untouched for years.

Promptly, Thing stopped, jumped over onto Wednesday's shoulder and frantically pointed at the portrait hidden in the shadows beneath the stairs.

Veiled beneath a thick layer of cobwebs and dust was a painting of a girl, her back straight and her piercing eyes boring right into Wednesday's, her violin neatly and proudly portrayed in front of her as it rested on her thigh. Her gaze demanded attention; her lip slightly crooked into a mischievous grin and her eyebrows resting in a manner that gave the sense she knew what Thing and Wednesday were up to. Her stare was alluring, her face memorable, for Wednesday had never seen a girl look this evil yet innocent. Intrigued by the devilish glint in the eyes that demanded to be looked at, Wednesday found herself frozen in her stare. There was something about the portrait that just wasn't quite right. As Wednesday blinked once to see if things would change, she stared at the same face, with that same need to be looked at, and Wednesday gave in to that request wholeheartedly.

She started to notice how the colours used were dark and earthy, perfectly captivating the violinist in the way she was meant to be seen; as someone mysterious and sinister. If anything, in this dim light of the Library, it looked more eerie than ever. Wednesday was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. If she didn't know any better, this portrait could have very well been part of her mother's portrait collection of people who had died in mysterious ways that adorned the walls of their living room back home at the Addams mansion.

Her captivation with the girl in the portrait was cut short when she heard someone try and tiptoe down the stairs.

"We're not the only nocturnal beings as it seems, Thing." She sighed, frustrated at the interruption, but Thing was no longer resting on her shoulder. She had been so drawn to the portrait that she hadn't even noticed him digging back into all the books behind her.

"Okay, here I thought that it was clear that you would no longer be allowed to enter after you so carelessly waved off the invitation to join the Nightshades," Bianca Barclay's voice echoed off the walls as she appeared out of the shadows, arms crossed and a haughty and disdainful look on her face.

"Here I thought you would be wiser than to think I would follow the rules of your adorable little club." Wednesday turned her back to the portrait, shielding Bianca from the view.

Bianca sighed, "What is it you want, Wednesday?"

"An end to the ongoing torture of my roommate's appalling pop songs playing on a continuous loop."

Bianca shook her head in annoyance, ready to counter with a witty reply, until her face fell, "Wait, what is that?" She tried to look over Wednesday's shoulder, craning her head.

Wednesday only tilted hers to the side, thinking she was being tricked by the sudden change of attitude, her eyes still boring into Bianca's.

"No jokes, Wednesday... that portrait- what did you do?!"

Curious, Wednesday turned around. Her eyebrows rose as she saw what Bianca had alluded to; the eyes of the girl still pierced right at her, but now from an upside-down perspective. The whole portrait had turned itself around.

"Why the hell would you do that?!" Biance's voice rose and she took a calculated step back, glancing around her, afraid she would hear the melody start to echo as the story told. "Haven't you caused Nevermore enough trouble?!" Bianca rushed over her words, her voice laced with rage and irritation but with fright, most of all. Her feet slowly but surely took steps back, towards the stairs.

Wednesday watched Bianca's unease, not sensing what was so wrong about a little paranormal visit. Back at the Addams house, they often found things being moved or turned. At least there she'd had people around her who couldn't annoy her, solely for the fact she couldn't see or hear them. But here at Nevermore, the living were so unbearable to be around.

Wednesday started to gain great delight in the realisation that maybe, just maybe, Nevermore was home to some spirits as well. Though she could never really stand them back home, for they often made the doors slam and creak whenever she tried to write, it made this school all the more interesting.

With a shaking finger, Biance pointed at her, "You'll regret what you did, Wednesday,"

Wednesday turned back to the bookcases when Bianca's quick steps had finally disappeared, signalling the girl had left.

"We should go, before she brings her flock of insufferable friends."

Sneaking another quick look at the portrait, she walked up to it and decided to turn it back around, to leave it as it had been when she first saw it. She knew it would probably entertain the spirit even more that she had taken her bait, but maybe that was exactly what Wednesday wanted; to lure her out of the shadows she had been hiding in for who knows how long. However, as her hands touched the antique and ancient frame, a rush crept up her spine, making her body tingle with tiny jolts of electricity and her fingers turning freezing cold. Her head shot up, her eyes glazed over as she was forced into a trance-like state.

Only this time, she didn't travel into the vision itself. It was as if someone was pushing her out of them, blocking her view and restricting her senses. Images and whispered words flitted through her mind instead,

A manor in the woods, surrounded by vegetation and a lake. An old room filled with instruments, but the sound of a violin echoing above all. A name. The gates of Nevermore Academy. A body, idle, head down in the fountain in the Quad. Whispered words, pointed fingers; rumours. The sound of a violin playing. A name. Laughter; loud and devilish. A noose. A public execution at Jerrico's town square? A name. The feeling of rage, agony and betrayal. Pleading. A girl, unmistakenly the one from the portrait, looking out over the woods behind Nevermore. The spluttering sound of someone choking; a knife held to the throat. The lovely smell of iron; blood, and lots of it. And once again; a name.

A force was finally able to push her back into her body and Wednesday stumbled against the bookcases, falling on the ground with a handful of books dropping to the floor around her. She was rattled, and hazed. Thing watched with care, knowing the girl had seen something.

"Y/N. Her name is Y/N."

☾ ⋆*·:⋆*·:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

@ghostheartbeat @the-night-owl-blr @engenelxver @screechcat @mary-jinx @mxal24 @novastargalaxydesigns @randomawesomeperson102 @reginassweetheart @mjoiner1136 @rockwyn @lostgirl1415 @rainbow-love4ever @the-lazy-turtle @elduster @queen-bunny @ghostheartbeat

#the dance of death #dance of death #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday one shot #wednesday imagine

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nnightskiess · 9 months

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I am obssessed with your yen series. I read every bit last night when i shouldve been sleeping and im prolly gonna keep rereading until the next chapter is out. Its so good!

Aahh, love, I don't know if I'd want you to lose sleep over it, but thank you nonetheless hahaha. You're the sweetest, thank you for your love 🥹

#ask ana

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nnightskiess · 9 months

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I fell in love with your writing right away. I loved Yen’s fic so much, it’s just all so perfect.

I even went to look some of your other works, and they’re great too. Thanks for that.

You're the kindest! Thank you sm for painting a smile on my face. Wishing you all the best. Much love 🤍

#ask ana

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nnightskiess · 10 months

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I was really looking forward to chap 4 and you didn’t disappoint! I really liked we got to know y/n’s backstory. Now I have more to re read for a while ;)

hey you! i'm glad you liked it! it was high time you learned some more about y/n to fully understand her, her secrets and her battles later on. plus, i really wanted to write yen and y/n's first meeting. ofc, that scene had to be heated and with guns blazing, knowing yen. thank you for supporting it! <3

#ask ana

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nnightskiess · 10 months

Text

everytime you leave, part four

₊° - 𝐲𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐠 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

everytime you leave, masterlist

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

The moment Tissaia walked up to the distraught girl, sitting in the remnants of what had been her village, the mage had tried her hardest to close her heart off, to just treat her with a stiff lip and a harsh word, for it was the way mages learned best, in her opinion. Then her footsteps had carefully led her closer, the stench of burned flesh, wood and leather making her inhale with tiny puffs breaths. The moment the young girl had felt a shadow loom over her, she'd looked up with a tear-stained face, eyes red and big and filled with terror. With her tattered clothes barely still covering her body and her skin smeared with dirt, blood and ash, she looked half-alive. And perhaps, going by the look on the girl's face, she would have preferred being among the dead. But it was what was in the palm of her hands that had made Tissaia suck in a breath.

Tissaia swiftly looked around the scorched earth and saw the faint flickering of melted-down armour here and there lying among the people the soldiers had killed before coming to their own demise. There was no normal fire that could have melted a soldier's armour the way it had. No, it demanded another kind of fire, one with flames so heated that the warmth could be felt all the way to the Blue Mountains of Hertch.

With her mouth slightly agape from the shock, she quickly knelt down in front of the girl and rather harshly pulled her closer by her wrists. She turned the girl's palms open to her view, but let them go almost right after. She looked at her own leathered gloves, which had started to melt, leaving a horrible smell behind to mix with the stench of death all around them. Dazed, she stood back up almost immediately, sparing the young girl in front of her another quick glance, only to now be met with a determined and stern expression from the girl. As if she knew what she had done to her.

The realisation of the severity of the situation came as quickly as the heat that suddenly warmed her face and made droplets of sweat dance against her forehead. But Tissaia stayed put, straightened her posture and lifted her chin. She had made up her mind.

With her hand outstretched, she voiced, "Come with me."

The fear and distrust returned to the young girl's face as she stared at Tissaia's hand, before her eyes went back up to the mage's face. The woman had her hair high up in an elegant style, with leathered gloves and boots and a dress hiding beneath a mantel she was sure costed more than her entire village could have afforded.

"Come," Tissaia tutted, sending her a derogatory glare, "Where else would you go now?"

The strange woman's words cut deep, and the girl had to bite her lip to stop it from trembling. It was as if the woman was taunting her with the look in her eyes. As if to say, who do you have left to wait around for?

"Or do you wish for them to find you when they come to see what's happened here?" Tissaia retreated her offered hand and looked down upon the girl, trying her best to not let the intrigue and sympathy show through her eyes. "Follow me." Tissaia turned on her heel, expecting the girl to stand up and follow her, like they always did.

"I would rather die." The young girl spat out her words with a certain kind of venom that surprised Tissaia.

She stopped and inspected the poor thing on the ground; the fabric around her stomach and hip had been caught by flames and revealed the nastiest burns on her skin. The girl sat shivering from her injuries but with her head held high nonetheless. Tissaia tilted her head, "Poor pup, if that didn't kill you, then you'll never die," Tissaia spoke, knowing the young girl had no idea of the knowledge the mage held, or what she'd just done either.

Tissaia looked around at the scorched bodies, "It seems you sacrificed a great deal to hone that power. It would be a waste to let it fizzle out with you. Now follow if you don't want any of this to happen again." Her finger pointed out the destruction around them.

The inner turmoil of the girl was hardly masked from her face. It was clear she was battling thoughts and worries and dealing with guilt and grief all at the same time. But Tissaia wasn't surprised to see the girl stumble to stand on her two feet, for she'd heard her thoughts and the decision made before she'd made the movement to follow. Hot angry tears fell out of her eyes and dropped onto her cheeks.

"And stop crying, there's no room for weakness at Aretuza."

Tissaia landed the first of what would be many blows to Y/N's thick skin, but she knew it was needed in order to make the young girl into a strong and resilient mage. If anything, perhaps the most renowned mage there would ever be, if Tissaia would play her cards right and keep her under her wing. However, she would keep the story of what had happened here, of how she'd burned her hands from a simple touch and how her gloves had melted from even standing near, a secret. For if the Continent learned of a living and breathing mage who had survived using fire magic, the young mage would be a dead woman walking.

*⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

Tissaia had been well aware that each and every step and choice that would be taken next, would have to be thought through in order for this to pan out well. From giving the girl the proper instructions to pairing her up with the right mages to fully hone and explore the depths of her magic. As she pulled the girl along through the cold and windy hallways of Artezua by her upper arm, her brain already racked with strategies and plots. But when a strangled sob escaped from the girl, she realised she was more than just a pawn for the Brotherhood. She was a young mage, hurting, grieving and perhaps utterly terrified, and Tissaia should have known better than to pluck her out of her life so harshly and dump her in her new one without any further explanation. Still, perhaps installing some fear would help keep the young mage quiet about what had happened, about what she could do. It will all be for the greater good, she had thought to herself, one day, the girl would look back and understand.

The minute the pair had left the burned-down village, the girl had been too exhausted to keep up her chaos, and the uneasy heat that she held around her had dissipated. Instead, silent tears started to fall at the realisation that everything would change. Still, the girl had held an everpresent frown on her face and her lips had snarled in hatred. Tissaia could feel the chaos bubbling beneath the girl's chest, even when weakened, and felt the power of it coursing through the young mage's veins. She knew exactly what to do with her.

Tissaia opened the door, led the young girl to her bed and turned back around, leaving no room for questions or coddling before she locked her inside. Immediately she could hear footsteps fast approaching before banging on the door echoed through the halls.

"Let me go, you vile bitch!"

So much for keeping her quiet, Tissaia thought, and immediately silenced the noise with a hushed spell. But three doors down, glancing between the tiniest crack of her door, young mage Yennefer of Vengerberg had seen it all.

*⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

Hours passed and had left your knuckles bruised and tattered from trying to find a way out. The stretching of your burning skin hurt and it was damp from infection, but no pain would ever be as horrible as the breaking of your heart. Your voice was hoarse from all the screaming, so you had taken to kicking the door instead, but when your body had taken over to scream in exhaustion, you had fallen to the floor. As if someone had sensed your surrender, soon the door opened again and a young woman appeared in the doorway, an almost painful apologetic smile on her face as she took you in. Her red hair bounced off her chest as she quickly bent down to your height, her hands outreached. You recoiled at her sudden movement but saw the pain in her eyes double with that reaction.

"I don't know what you have gone through, but I am so sorry that it's caused you such great pain. It's okay now, you're safe here, at Aretuza," Though she tried her best to make you feel at ease, you were wary, "I'm Triss. Is it okay if I can touch your wounds to heal them?"

You glared at her outstretched hands as if the most dangerous insect of the Continent was crawling along her fingers. Heal you... what did that even mean? You'd heard of mages and their powers, but also heard of how they could manipulate the mind and the senses. Was this a trap? Would this woman let you do her bidding with just one touch of her fingers? You still weren't sure why the elegant but stern lady had found you and decided to take you back to her den full of witches. What were their plans for you?

You made a show to look behind and around her, then huffed, "Where are your bandages? Your salves and your ointments?"

The red-haired woman, Triss, only smiled uneasily, "I'm a mage, I use my chaos to heal, watch-" Her thumb hovered over the bruises on your knuckles as they disappeared slowly but surely, only itching slightly, "That was all. I can do it for all of your wounds, if you'd like."

A new wave of shivers crept up your spine at the heated burn of your wounds and you wiped a layer of sweat from your face. Glancing back down at your head, you realised there was no trace of the burn mark whatsoever, as if it hadn't even happened at all.

"It won't leave any scars, I promise," Triss reassured, sensing the unease.

"Then how will I remind myself what happened?"

Triss furrowed her brows," Wouldn't you like to forget?"

"Forget about what? My life? My family?" You raised your voice and pushed yourself to sit against the bed, away from the mage who clearly didn't understand at all. "What happened to them? What-" Suddenly, you stopped and looked up, "Did she send you?"

"Who?"

"That devilish hag?!"

Triss blinked rapidly and stumbled back at your tone, "Tissaia? What's she done to-"

"Thank you, Triss. You're needed elsewhere now." Tissaia loomed in the doorway, hands folded together and that same stiff lip on her face.

"But I haven't even-" Triss shut up and disappeared herself after just a look from her rectoress.

The ticking of Tissaia's heels echoed against your lonely room. She bend down and tightly gripped your chin in her hand, "Are you so bend on dying, weak pup?" She squeezed your chin, "Can't even accept help when it's offered to you?"

"I've learned that help is often offered only when one expects something in return." You did your best to keep your head high, despite the woman's efforts to pull your chin down.

"You're a clever girl, aren't you?" She let go and stood back, sending a half smirk your way before turning serious again. It was as if her eyes showed a sudden unease with the blow she was going to have to deal next, "So clever that you haven't even figured out that you were the one to burn your family to ashes. So naive," She tutted and shook her head in a derogative manner.

"What do you mean?" Your face paled even more at her statement, at what you had worried about but had pushed to the back of your mind during all the agonisingly long hours that had passed.

As if a flick had been switched in Tissaia, she smiled softly, "Oh sweet girl, you have no idea?" She watched the confusion on your face and continued, "There's a great deal of chaos rumbling beneath your skin, itching at it and travelling through the network of your veins. You just had your conduit moment today. They often happen when one's emotions are heightened, when one is in great distress or danger, for example."

"I'm a mage?" You stumbled out, not wanting to believe her but knowing that things suddenly started to make sense. From the unexplainable moments in your life to what had occurred hours ago.

"Some girls turn their siblings into pigs during a fight for their conduit moment, you just had to burn your whole village, didn't you?" The hostile tone returned, as if Tissaia couldn't let herself be softer with you than the others for longer than needed.

"I didn't! They pillaged and ransacked our village! Hurt the women and the children and killed the men. They were going to torch the place!"

"Yet you were the one to make it go boom."

"I wasn't- Surely I couldn't have-" Instead of granting you an answer or some explanation to help you order your thoughts, the woman kept silent to watch you connect the dots right in front of her. Your father had instructed the entire family to lock yourself up in the cellar, but when the pillagers had kicked down the door, slain your father and grabbed your youngest sibling and put a blade through them as if they were but a piece of meat, the only thing you could remember is seeing red. Then flames. Unrelenting tall flames. Then nothing, for a while, until Tissaia had stood in front of you to take your attention away from the destruction around you.

"Your disruption of chaos didn't just cause a ripple, it was a tidal wave," Frustrated, Tissaia grabbed your hands and opened your palms, "You hold a great power that can be dangerous to us all. The Continent will erupt in chaos if they know of your existence, for no young mage has ever lived to see another day after using fire magic. People will try and hunt you down. You are not meant to exist. Your chaos is destructive, it could start wars." She watched the horror on your face, "But it can end wars, too, only if you work on keeping your chaos bottled. But with your lack of control, I doubt that will ever happen-" The sympathy disappeared again, "Unless... you accept my help. I will keep you safe here at Aretuza. I will mentor you and help you control it."

You bit your trembling lip, hating how you were still stuck on the fact you had killed your entire family. Though the woman had previously made fun of your weakness, her eyes were less cold as she looked down on you now.

After a long train of thought, you grumbled, "So what do you expect in return?"

She smiled, giving you an accomplished nod. You were already understanding life as a mage, "To keep it all between us. You have never used fire magic. You survived after your chaos and conduit moment made the pillager's brains simmer out of their eyes."

"And if I don't?"

"Then I won't keep my end of the bargain." She stared at you with a look of finality, making it clear she did not condone any resistance to her offer.

A single nod of your head was enough to satisfy Tissaia, "I will send Triss back and you will accept her help this time."

"What if I don't want the scars to disappear?"

Tissaia examined you, trying to decipher the train of thought that went behind those words,

"Then they'll serve as a great reminder of what happened when you lost control."

*⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

Yennefer walked into Aretuza's dining hall, approaching the first mage she knew and immediately opening her mouth, "They're holding an injured girl hostage."

Annika looked up at her, confused, "The Brotherhood?"

"No, yes, I don't know. I saw Tissaia bring her in, with my own eyes." Yennefer muttered with hatred laced in her voice, still not having found her peace and home within the walls of Aretuza.

"Then surely there must be a reason. Rectoress de Vries would never just-"

"She did it with me too, only shorter. When I first came here." Yennefer clarified and licked her lips, sending dangerous glares at the pair of older mages who she knew had been staring at the deformation of her back.

"Oh-" Sabrina approached, a smirk tugging at her lips, "What are you two gossiping about? Do go on."

And so the rumour had started, making Tissaia catch wind of it before the end of the afternoon. To say the woman was furious was an understatement. All Yennefer of Vengerberg had done since her arrival, had been to make things ten times more difficult for her, refusing to adapt. So, it didn't come to Yennefer's surprise that she was summoned to the rectoress office again. If anything, an accomplished glint in her eyes made it clear to Tissaia that she was happy she had disrupted her plans, even if the girl could not have any idea what they were.

"Sit." Tissaia's stern voice instructed when she heard Yennefer's uneven step enter her quarters. She kept her back towards the girl. "You seem to take a great liking to lighting all the fires I'm trying to put out, do you not?"

"Why are you keeping that girl locked up?"

Tissaia turned around, her eyes narrowed, "Why are you sticking your nose in the business of the Brotherhood? Are you so keen to dig through our dirt, piglet? Do you miss sleeping among those beasts so much that you've turned into one?" She saw how Yennefer angrily nibbled at her bottom lip, clearly hurt by the memories of her past.

"You're keeping her against her will, as you did with me. She's hurt." Yennefer spat back after taking a couple of seconds to recuperate.

"She is delirious from her injuries and her trauma. Triss is with her. Has that quelled your curiosity enough?"

"So that means you did take her involuntarily."

Tissaia locked her jaw in frustration, feeling anger bubbling, "She's safer with us, as you all are. Her chaos needs to be mentored as much as anyone else's." She examined Yennefer's face, sensed the intrigue still in her eyes and tilted her head, "If you're so drawn by her, go fetch her for me." With a look that told Yennefer to get up and leave, Tissaia kept her eyes burning in the back of the young mage's head as she left.

*⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

The itching of your skin moved all over your body, where your burns had previously festered and bled, but where faint scars now coated your skin instead. Your trembling fingers traced the one on your torse and stomach, the bumps and unevenness of them still appearing to the soft touch of your fingertips. Triss had done her best to heal the wounds but leave the scars, without making them too unbearable to look at. You could see it pained the mage to not be able to heal you properly, that your need to hold on to your trauma was greater than the need to heal. Still, she knew that not every mage's conduit moment was smooth sailing, so she had kept her mouth shut and had only looked at you with a calm sense of understanding in her eye.

Suddenly, you felt the air change, felt your head fill with prickles that weren't yours and felt the power in your veins reappear once more, as if your mind had healed together with your wounds and made chaos invite itself back beneath your chest. It elevated your senses and made you hear your heartbeat pump through your ears. But then you noticed; you saw her piercing lilac eyes staring back at you through the crack of your door before she knocked to make herself known. She did not wait for your approval, nor did she seem embarrassed that she had been caught staring. Instead, she seemed determined.

Your eyes watched the girl, from her crooked jaw to the hunchback that made her garments fall unflatteringly around her body. It made Yennefer grow self-conscious. The girl quickly pulled her dress back on her shoulder but felt it slide off again just as fast.

She took a step closer, taking in your burned-down clothes even if you had a fresh garment waiting for you on your bed, "Who are you?"

"I could ask you the same."

Ignoring your question, she took another step forward. She licked her lips, "What happened to you? Why are you here?"

The life in your eyes left as soon as she reminded you of what had happened. Yennefer's stare was intense as her big lilac eyes examined you from head to toe, intrigued by someone who seemed to suffer the same kind of welcome she'd had.

"Did she take you away from your family too?"

Your heart panged and your fingers started to tremble again as if suddenly you could feel the heat that had coursed through them mere hours ago. You felt your chaos flitting all across your body, unable to be controlled. It worried you.

"Step back," You warned, with panic and shattered devastation. If you were to set the whole of Aretuza ablaze, then surely your secret would not be safe anymore.

Yennefer kept idle, staring at your sunken form. She'd been in that position not long ago and though her heart had hardened from her time at Aretuza, together with all the challenges her old life had given her, she could feel her heart break nonetheless.

"It's not me you should fear."

You finally looked up to properly look her in the eyes, sensing the sincere warning.

"What are you not telling me?"

Yennefer licked her lips, "You won't believe me anyway, you're too new. Are you going to try and escape?"

You rose your eyebrows and kept your eyes locked firmly on hers. Yennefer found solace in the fact you hadn't gazed at her deformities more than once, just to acknowledge them and then get on with it. Usually, people's eyes would linger on those more than on her own set of eyes, begging to be looked at.

Her words made a bundle of thoughts swarm through your head. You wanted to leave this place, yes, but where would you go without anyone left alive? Without anyone to care for you? You didn't even know to what part of the Continent Tissaia had transported you to. But as you let all those insecurities fill you up, you realised one more grave reminder; if you were to run, you would be left without the safety the rectoress had promised you. If she were to find out you had left and broken your deal, she could very well send the whole Continent after you simply for still being alive after what you'd done.

Defeated, you sighed, "No."

Yennefer grew impatient and now fully closed the distance as she stood right in front of you on your bed, "Giving up already?."

"I might be new, but I know that Aretuza was designed to imprison its students," You repeated, void of hope and motivation, feeling nothing more but hollow.

"What a backbone you have."

"Then what are you still doing here?"

Within a blink, you stood face to face with the girl, your hands palmed into fists.

Finally, Yennefer's eyes softened as they looked into yours, so up close. The trauma and the terror were evident to her. Whatever you had gone through, she seemed to understand. Her eyes flashed across your face, across the crease between your brows, the dip beneath your lips and the lashes on your eyes. She saw the dirt and the smeared ash on your cheeks, but as she glanced into your eyes again, she felt a power tugging at her insides. She found a certain kind of wisdom in your irises and felt a sense of peace as you kept your gaze on her. There was a switch that flicked within her, something out of her control, something to do with her chaos, she could tell. It started to coarse through her body, making her ears pop and her skin tingle. She could feel herself grow more powerful than she'd ever had before. The feeling was ecstatic, and she closed her eyes momentarily to let herself drown in it. It was as if she was floating. Then she looked back to you still standing mere inches away from her face.

"I'm Yennefer," She softly muttered,

"Yennefer of Vengerberg."

*⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

#yennefer x reader #yennefer of vengerberg fic #yennefer of vengerberg x reader #yennefer imagine #yennefer of vengerberg imagine #the witcher imagines #the witcher imagine

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