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seulgiology · 4 years

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love you, hate, foolish | minatozaki sana

pairings: fake-girlfriend!sana x fake-partner!reader

words: 1.2k

genre: angst >:(

warnings: crying, cheating, lying, unhealthy relationships, mentions of sexual activities

a/n: yer , admin 1 is alive. this wasn’t supposed to be over like 400 words but i felt the need to explain the situation lol whoops. anygays, some sana content for u

disclaimer: This is a work of fiction from our imagination. It is not intended that the plot, theme, original characters, idols, etc. portray any real-life events/people. Plagiarism is NOT tolerated on this blog. If you believe we have copied an existing authors’ work, please message us privately. thank you and enjoy :)

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It was raining outside your car, the soft pelts of the drops hitting the window as the sound complimented the faint indie music playing from your radio. But it didn’t drown out the sounds of the hiccuping girl in your passenger seat, her body lightly jerking from crying so hard a few moments ago.

You can’t even bring yourself to look at her. You wouldn’t be able to handle the look of heartbreak. Your head was hung low in utter shame and disgust with yourself, and you stared blankly at the steering wheel.

“You deserve so much better than me Sana. So much better than this and this shitty up relationship I created.” Your voice cracked and your composure was crumbling the longer you sat there with her. She accidentally let out a choked sob, her throat tightening up.

She didn’t want to hear that from you. She stared out the window and let those words kill her even more, her eyes stinging again from more tears gathering in them.

“You’re such a liar and a hypocrite. You told me you’d end things as soon as you and Yeri got back together. But instead you-“ She paused for a moment, trying to get her breathing under control and focusing on the scenery outside the fogged window, “You kept her a secret continuing to fuck me and my feelings like I’m your pet. You dragged this on. You let me think that we could’ve been something… and I still love you, even after everything you’ve put me through.” Her voice died out towards the last part due to the sobs racking through her small body.

She was right. You hated yourself for that. You hated how easy it was for you to manipulate her feelings for your benefit. You knew she wanted you as more than a fantasy, and you played her.

You kept Sana to the side and abandoned your agreement with her, and resumed activities with your ex, Yeri. It was so fun being with Sana, but she could never satisfy you as Yeri did. She simply wasn’t her.

After the breakup, you couldn’t stomach to see her flirting with other people, and Sana could see you hopelessly staring at your beautiful ex-girlfriend, latching onto some guy. Knowing you’d never look at her like that.

“Why don’t you make her jealous back? Find your own plaything.” Jeongyeon said to you Thursday night over the phone. It wasn’t like you to mess around with random people, the thought made you uncomfortable. Yet you begin to consider it.

Who’d even agree to something like that? What if they end up actually liking you? Why…

You obsessively picked at your nails, a habit you picked up when you were contemplating something. Then suddenly, you remembered something. Sana.

You remember eavesdropping on her conversation one day with another one of her friends, talking about her feelings for you. You brushed it off and never thought of it again. Until now.

You had called Sana over at your apartment that Saturday afternoon asking for her help with your homework assignments, but really to try and persuade her to be your “girlfriend” for a bit. Of course she came, your smiling face pulling at her heart strings when you opened the door in your pajamas.

You’d never called her over before without the rest of your friend group, so she was pleasantly surprised and even made her self more presentable for this mediocre occasion.

“It’s just so unfair how she gets to live as if we were never together. You know, I see her staring at me sometimes, and I know she’s not over me yet.” You began towards the end of your study date, Sana’s complete attention on you as you both sat on your bed.

“We’re in love and I don’t know how she doesn’t see it.” You purposely put the hurt sound in your voice to make her pity you for what you were about to ask her.But she beat you to it.

“I know this idea is pretty out there but, we can pretend to date… to make her jealous.” She was uncertain as she said it, but of course you agreed. it was your plan after all.

You didn’t realize you were actually attracted to her until it was too late. You began doing things that couples usually do, even away from the public eye. Texting her cute messages, showing up at her door with with food and cuddles, saying things that shouldn’t be said in a false relationship.

Then you realized this was more then what it should be when you enjoyed the moans reserved only for you. A little over a month into fake dating and you were head over heels for her, and she was just falling deeper in love.

However, you were lust driven, only seeking the type of love Yeri had with you. Your ex witnessed all the lovey-dovey things Sana and you were doing and came crying in your arms like you wanted. You were ecstatic. But you weren’t ready to end whatever you and Sana had.

As impossible as it was , you found a way to keep both girls, without either finding out.

You remembered holding her hand, smiling at her blushed cheeks and telling her you’d never break her heart, as a fake girlfriend and as her friend.

“Why me? Huh?” She was raising her voice at you, the unrestrained emotion coming out of her mouth caused the tears to fall from your face.

You stole a look at the beautiful girl and your heart ached. The tears seemed to be forever flowing down her face, her cheeks red and her eyes swollen.

She was wearing the over-sized jumbo knit sweater you gave her that day in front of your ex, hoping it’d rile her up seeing you share your clothes with your new “girlfriend.” She was staring at you too, her dyed pink hair contrasting with the somber mood of the car.

You opened your mouth and immediately closed it, not being able to find the right words. Nothing you could say would make it better.

She cried harder, the pain she felt was indescribable. The sight tore at you, and you reached forward to wipe away at the tears. She pulled back from you as if your hand was poison, and you hesitantly brought your hand back.

“I don’t want you to contact me after this. I can’t... I can’t put myself through any more of your games Y/N.” She whispered out to you, her voice weak and her eyes glassy and lost.

“Wait, let me exp-” She was already out the door, the rain hitting the soft skin you used to touch and kiss. She never looked back, never heard what you had to say. This is what you deserved for being greedy.

The only time you saw the girl was when you and your friend group hung out, and even then she ignored you at all costs, pretending you weren’t even there. She couldn’t watch you put your lips over hers and making her laugh, when that’s what you did to her too.

You soon forgot about the pink-haired girl and she once again became the one person you disregard, Yeri filling in the hole once again.

But she’d never forget you, no matter how foolish it is. She still hates you. But she’ll always love you.

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missjosie27 · 4 years

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Year 2 Part 9- The First Vault

Hello, everyone.

There is good news! I seem to have my mojo back, that spark every writer needs to adequately make their craft. So expect updates to come a lot more often.

This chapter is the vault chapter though it will not mark the end of Year 2. For the record, I intend to write all seven years but that is going to take a hell of a long time given JC's very slow updating schedule haha.

Anyway enjoy this chapter! As always comment what you think. I enjoy it immensely.

Year 2 Part 9. The First Vault

Ben’s hopes for an uneventful end of the semester turned out to be oddly prophetic. The number of ice attacks dropped so significantly that even the first years seemed to be more relaxed going into the latter part of May and into June. Tension ran much lower and even the most brooding Slytherin or skeptical Ravenclaw had to admit things were looking up. Though Dumbledore was still noticeably absent, Professor McGonagall filled in more than adequately as deputy headmistress.

All the while, David felt…conflicted. He was certainly happy that the ice attacks had stopped, and the danger seemingly gone. But that didn’t lead him any closer to finding out what happened to his brother nor the identity of ‘R’ and what they wanted in general. Would he trade for more clues about the cursed vault just to have more information on Jacob? No, he wasn’t that selfish, unlike those such as Merula who only thought about themselves. But it didn’t ease that same longing he’d felt since he was nine years old, nor satisfy his curiosity.

Ben, of course, was ecstatic and Rowan tried to see the bright side as usual, telling him that no curse meant more time to study for their upcoming exams (whoop de doo) and reduce their chances of getting in trouble with the teachers. Bill, however, was the only one who remained unconvinced that the danger had truly passed.

“A magical cursed vault doesn’t just stop cursing people,” he explained one day while at the training grounds. “From what I’ve researched, cursed objects are often unpredictable and not at all stable due to the sheer amount of dark magic they contain.”

“Are these vaults even dark, though?” Rowan pointed out, as he fired a stinging hex towards his target. “It could just be a natural defense mechanism of someone trying to interfere with it.”

“I don’t personally trust anything that has the capacity to seriously maim or kill someone,” David opined.

Bill send a burst of flame forth, incinerating a dummy to ashes.

“If it turns out that this was nothing more than a false alarm, I won’t complain,” he said. “But until we can actually confirm that, it’s best to remain on our toes.”

And remain on their toes they did, thanks to Bill. Three times a week, they were down by the ground training and when they weren’t Rowan was often in the library searching for more books on the ancient Aramaic language they found the previous year, or anything on the vault’s origin. Penny received several new potions books from her mother and was pouring through them for more ideas or possible brews they could use in the event of an attack.

For his part, David tried to juggle the rest of his schoolwork with the vaults. His mother in particular was expecting higher marks this year and constantly reminded him of that in her letters.

Do as I say, not as I do he lamented. It was typical of his mum to offer instruction but little sympathy in doing so. If only Dad actually had a backbone. Whatever, it’s not like they’re actually here seeing what I get up to

All of these things were to bound to come to a head sooner or later and when it did, it was in the most unexpected fashion imaginable.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The day of pandemonium coincidentally was on the last Quidditch match of the season, where Gryffindor was due to play Ravenclaw for the title. The air was abuzz with excitement, and though the Slytherins were more than a bit glum at being out the running, it was expected to be an even, prime time matchup. It was not an atmosphere concerned with the cursed vaults.

That included David and Bill, who in their eager anticipation of the match, rose early and sped down to breakfast both for the purpose of eating and wishing Charlie luck. Since his first match against Slytherin, his ascent into superstardom had been rapid. The game against Hufflepuff was as equally lopsided, with Gryffindor winning 400-100 in a span of about half an hour. But it wasn’t simply the score that had the Lions on the cusp of their first cup since the late seventies, it was a generational talent and that person was Charlie Weasley. His natural ability on a broom was so spectacular, many people openly talked of him playing for England someday. True to his nature, the second eldest Weasley merely shrugged such talk off, choosing instead to focus on the Quidditch Cup but the chatter was undeniable.

“Good luck, little bro,” Bill teased him moments before heading down into the locker room. “You know Fred and George are going to want a full play by play after you win.”

“Knock it off, Bill,” Charlie said, rolling his eyes but there was a small smile on his face all the same. “Just have the butterbeer ready when we come back.”

Giving each other fist bumps, Skye Parkin called over as she tossed the quaffle back and forth between herself and fellow chaser Ruth Barrett.

“Oi, Weasley! Orion’s called us to the pitch! Let’s go!”

“She has a way with words,” Bill observed mildly.

Charlie raised his hands as he got up from the table.

“Just who she is.”

“Knock em, dead, mate. We all know you’ll be brilliant,” David encouraged, giving one last slap on the back.

The red head thanked him and quickly exited the Great Hall to the applause of the Gryffindor table, while the Ravenclaws paid them no mind.

“Gotta say, definitely different than playing Slytherin from a pregame standpoint,” David observed.

“Ravenclaws don’t need to use shady or underhanded tactics to try and intimidate opponents,” Bill pointed out. “Their talent and tactics are usually enough. Besides, their team left for the locker room already.”

“Good point.”

Checking out his watch, David began to wonder where Rowan and Ben were. Both had assured him they’d be down just after himself. Even if his best friend wasn’t the earliest riser when it came to Quidditch matches, he was usually sufficient enough to dress and shower quickly.

“Where are those guys?” he muttered to himself. The Great Hall was beginning to empty out. Even the Professors were absent from the table. Something wasn’t right.

Bill tried to reassure him in his usual cool, collected manner.

“I’m sure they’ll be along s-”

He never was able to finish the sentence as screaming and panic began to erupt from outside of the hall. Whoever was left eating breakfast immediately ran to the scene of the commotion, including the two Gryffindors. What they saw was pure pandemonium: adolescents and teenagers from all houses were running back and forth and wasn’t hard to see why. Numerous spores of ice were blooming all around them, growing at a rapid pace threatening to engulf all in their path.

David and Bill, both glanced at each other, simultaneously gulping. Suddenly, wave of blonde slammed into them.

“Ack! Penny?!”

“Dave! Bill! Oh, I’m so glad I found you,” she said through a tight hug around David’s midsection (he blushed ever so slightly). “Is this the cursed vault?”

“Has to be,” the young Gryffindor replied. “What else could be making such gigantic icebergs?”

Just then, a large mass could be seen moving towards them through the crowd and given his height advantage it wasn’t difficult to spot who it was.

“Dave? Bill? All yehs thank goodness yer alrigh’.”

“Hagrid? What on earth is going on?”

The exceedingly large man’s warm, beetle eyes were saddled with watery worry.

“The cursed ice is spreadin through all o’ Hogwarts!” he replied, nervously tapping a pink umbrella by his side. “It’s getting ter be madness out there. Gryffindor Tower is completely blocked in, the dungeons got icicles stickin out everywhere. An’ apparently the Ravenclaw Quidditch team are trapped inside the changing rooms. The blasted ice is expandin so fas’ that the Professors can’t keep up with it and there’s only so much they can do. Especially with Professor Dumbledore off searchin fer that curse-breaker.”

Hagrid paused and mumbled to himself.

“Ah, shouldn’ta said that, should not have said that.”

“What curse breaker?” David asked curiously. But the groundskeeper waved off their concerns with one of his trash can lid hands.

“Never mind tha’ now. My job is to keep you lot safe until the ice is under control. Now head back into the Grea’ Hall while I go assist Professor McGonagall.”

As he sped off, or as fast as one of his girth could go, David looked back towards his two companions, blocking out the hysteria around him.

“We have to move fast,” he told Bill and Penny. “It sounds like the ice is back with a vengeance.”

“But shouldn’t the Professors handle it?” the blonde asked, fear evident in her crystal, blue eyes.

“It sounds like they have too much on their plate in order to properly deal with the cursed ice. And this time it might not be enough to save the day,” David pointed out.

“We’re forgetting one key thing,” Bill added. “The Professors don’t even know where the origin of this ice is. They may not be able to fix it.”

“But we do. And we can,” David declared. “Bill’s right. No one besides us knows where this vault is located. It’s time for a third and final visit.”

Bill looked over his shoulder to ensure no one was listening, simultaneous worry and conflict on his handsome features. However, he also appeared resolved.

“I didn’t want to go back in there without at least four or five us just so we could have each other’s backs, but it looks like there’s no choice. The three of us will go in, break that curse, and save Hogwarts.”

David nodded in complete agreement. As much as he wanted Rowan and Ben with them, his two roommates were effectively trapped within the common room. They were the last remaining hope.

“It’s settled then. Penny, are you in?”

Though her own misgivings could still be seen in her face and body posture, Penny didn’t hesitate in her answer.

“Absolutely. I told you David that the next time something like this happens to involve me. Well, you’re going to keep that promise whether you like it or not.”

She truly is the most loyal Hufflepuff I’ve ever seen

“You’re amazing, Penny. Alright let’s go!”

And without so much as a second thought, the three teens took off running towards the thirteenth corridor.

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It didn’t take long to reach the corridor nor for David to reveal the hidden entrance. Being the third go around, he could pinpoint the spot precisely and the power of being an advanced Transfiguration student certainly didn’t hurt either.

When the eerie hallway and steps were exposed, Penny was taken aback.

“Whoa,” she uttered softly. “I’ve never seen a cursed vault before, but even this is a lot to take in at one time.”

“Stay close,” David nodded towards her. The last thing he needed was more casualties on this trip. Rowan and Bill had nearly frozen to death in each of the last instances. He would ensure nothing of the sort happened to Penny. However, her inexperience was showing already. The two Gryffindor teens already knew what to expect unlike the blonde Hufflepuff.

“Don’t worry,” he tried to reassure her. “It’s okay to be scared. We all are.”

“But it always helps to have a bit background. Especially for someone who’s never seen all of this macabre rubbish,” Bill joked.

Penny gave a frail smile, nevertheless she remained quite frightened of the ominous knights and ancient statues that surrounded them.

“What should I expect?” she asked bravely.

“If memory serves correctly, there will be a chamber with a massive door of ice in front of us, guarded by a giant shield shaped like a snowflake,” Bill explained to her.

“You’re taking the mickey, right?”

David resisted the urge to laugh despite the seriousness of the situation.

“It sounds pretty unbelievable but trust me, Penny. We’re not lying.”

As if to prove his point they came across the same giant wall of ice that stood against their path to the doors, twice as thick and formidable as before.

“Well…this is a problem,” David observed. “Will the knockback jinx be enough, Bill?”

“It’s our only hope, mate,” Bill told him, pulling out his wand. “If we hit it at the same time, it should be enough to create a big enough entry way for us to fit through.”

The two second years copied the older boy and prepared to fire.

“Give it all you got, Penny,” David told her, giving a look of encouragement. “Whatever ounce of power you think you have….summon every ounce of it.

I’m going to need it too

“On the count of three,” Bill announced and Penny’s normally cute, bubbly features took on an uncharacteristic degree of determination. “One….two….THREE!”

“Flipendo!”

Beams of blue light struck the ice with a tremendous force but to their dismay, only a slight dent was made, indicating the defenses were much stronger than originally thought of.

“Try it again. One…two…THREE!”

“Flipendo!”

This time a small hole was made through the ice, but it was barely big enough for a man to go ice fishing.

“One more,” Bill breathed heavily. “We can do this. On my count…one…two…THREE!”

This time, their efforted yielded paydirt as the combined power of their spells blasted the ice apart, leaving a man sized opening just big enough for them duck through.

“When you get inside, spread out and be ready when the door starts blasting its freezing charms,” the eldest Weasley informed them. “Penny, you remember the fire spell, yeah?”

“Incendio, right?”

“That’s the one. As soon as you get close enough to it, blast it with all your power.”

David nodded in affirmation. There was no time to think or get fancy, the only objective was to get past that door and ensure that this curse was broken once and for all. As for what came after….they could deal with that later.

Sure, enough as they entered the icy chamber and drew close, the snowflake shield began firing off freezing curses, causing the three teens to roll off to one side in order to avoid them.

“I see what you mean!” Penny yelled, drawing her wand. “Also, really wish I’d worn something other than a skirt had I known we’d literally be going into a cursed vault!”

David fired a knockback jinx to buy them some time, but their offensive nearly stalled as a freezing spell nearly hit Bill, causing him to slip forward on the slick, unstable surface.

“That was too close,” he muttered. “Alright, after the next curse it shoots off, fire away with everything you got.”

David drew his own wand and aimed carefully, shrinking low on the steps, concentrating all of his magic into the biggest inferno ball he could imagine in his head. By the hardened look on Penny’s face, she was evidently doing the same. As soon as the next freezing spell (aimed for Bill again) passed, he and the Hufflepuff were on their feet charging the door.

“INCENDIO!!” they roared simultaneously.

With their combined strength, huge plumes of fire issued forth and made contact with the shield attached the door. Through the heat and acrid smoke, David could see that the icy fortification was melting into a pool of water onto the floor. By the time the fire barrage ended, it was completely gone.

“YES!” he exclaimed. “We finally got rid of that bloody thing.”

The group barely had time to celebrate however as ominous rumbling could be heard from inside of the door, the ground quaking as though a giant were approaching.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Penny stated, anxiety back on her face.

“I just realized, David,” Bill said turning to him. “All this time we thought this door was keeping us out of the vault…but what if it was keeping something IN?”

It was a consideration they had no time to discuss more for at that moment, as the massive doors opened to reveal a terrifying sight: an Ice Knight, made of iron but covered completely in chunks of snow and frost, about ten feet tall carrying a massive sword. It did not look pleased at their intrusion.

“Merlin’s Beard,” Bill breathed. “Everyone, take cover!!”

But he was too late. The knight struck out with his sword creating an icy wind so fierce, so deathly cold that one could not stand against it without plunging into a winter induced coma. In a quick succession, Bill’s body was quickly entrapped in ice as was Penny’s. Fortunately for David, he had managed to jump out of the way in time, all except his foot, which he managed to free.

“Blasted thing…” he muttered, ripping his foot away and breaking the containment. He ignored the rising chill in his bones as he saw his two friends stuck in blocks of ice so thick, it was a wonder they could move at all. Both of their faces were already turning blue.

“L-look out!” Bill warned threw chattered teeth as the knight swung his blade once more.

Again, David had to dive out of the away to avoid getting caught in the same prison. Wheeling around, he aimed his wand and issued out another fire blast. It caught the knight square in the chest, causing it to reel back but otherwise had no effect.

“Uh oh.”

For the third time, he avoided a blizzard blast but only just barely. There was no telling how long he could keep this up. Not to mention the health and safety of his friends were increasingly in jeopardy. He wasn’t going to win by simply dodging the strikes.

“D-D-Dave,” Penny managed to utter out. “C-c-come here. Reach into m-m-my j-j-jumper pocket.”

He did not argue, running over to her and doing as instructed. Within seconds, a bottle of green potion was in his hand.

“It’s f-f-fire breathing p-p-potion. I know i-i-it’s risky b-b-but it might be our only h-h-hope.”

“S-s-she’s right!” Bill called out in agreement. “You h-h-have to use it n-n-now!”

In a split second David managed to consider the options: fire breathing potion could damage someone’s esophagus and stomach beyond repair if too much was ingested at one time. And would it be enough to actually take down their adversary? Unless…

Wait a second, I have an idea

Ducking another blast from the Ice Knight, David wasted no more time. He quickly chugged the potion, feeling its warmth rush down his throat and into the pit of his gut (it was rather like ingesting tasteless, extremely hot water). Putting his wand directly in front of his mouth, he ran up to the Knight, and knelt down on one knee.

Summoning a deep breath, David aimed straight for its midsection with only a second to spare.

“INCENDIOOOOO!!!!”

The fire breathing potion combined with the spell of his wand issued a concentrated beam of fire so powerful that it cut through the giant’s armor like a hot knife through butter, leaving a gaping hole in the middle of its body. As soon as the damage was recognized the silent knight looked down, fell to its knees before bursting into a cloud of snow and dust.

Panting heavily, David barely even registered his victory, rushing over to help Bill and Penny. Using the last of his fire breathing reserved, he managed to carefully blow a ring of fire around the ice, cracking it to the point where both could effectively free themselves.

“D-Dave, do you know what you j-just did?” Penny asked him, her pretty features in full awe.

“Careful, Penny. You’re still shivering pretty badly.”

“F-forget me, that was the m-most amazing thing I’ve ever s-seen!”

“She’s right you know,” Bill concurred. His body still quaked as well but his larger size and body mass ensured he did not feel the effects quite as badly. “Dave, I’ve never seen a second year do that before. You just took down something ancient, something way beyond what most wizards have ever seen.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the compliments, but David had seen this story before. Rowan and Bill each required sufficient time to recover from the door blasts and the knight’s power was far stronger than that. They needed to get to the hospital wing.

“Guys, let’s go see Madam Pomfrey before you freeze to death, come on-”

“Not before you enter that vault,” Bill cut him off.

“Forget the vault,” David insisted, supporting Penny with his own body weight. “We need to leave this place.”

“Leave after everything we did to open the bloody door?” Bill barked out with a laughter. “Not likely. David we’ll be fine. This is what you wanted: the first step in finding the answers about your brother. Go, I can take care of Penny.”

Before he could protest, the blonde placed a soft, feminine hand over his mouth.

“Hush,” she said with a smile. “B-Bill’s right, we’re b-both okay.”

Swallowing, but also nodding his head, David acquiesced to their insistence. He didn’t like the idea of leaving them behind whilst they were still in considerable trouble, but curiosity and desire overrode his fear. Any immediate threat was gone now. It was time to see just what was behind those frozen doors.

“Together,” he said to them. “All three of us.”

His friends smiled at him.

“If you insist, David.”

And just as he insisted, the three friends stepped inside the doors into the unknown.

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In contrast to the snowy, ice cream covered walls of the chamber outside, the inside of the vault was quite similar to the hallway in its décor and decoration. It was also considerably warmer. Inside was a dark, copper green colored room lined with four different knight statues, all resembling the one they had just fought. In the center was a lit column, situated upon a stone pillar, lit by a soft, yellowish glow the emanated from the inside. Upon the column, was an ancient language, the same that Rowan translated a year earlier.

“Unbelievable,” Penny breathed out.

“There is definitely something to this column here,” Bill said, rubbing his chin.

“Perhaps it has something inside?” David suggested to which eldest Weasley shrugged.

“Only one way to find out, mate. You can do the honors.”

The second year Gryffindor didn’t hesitate. Foolish as it may seem to touch a mysterious magical object of unknown origin and power, the nagging desire was too much to resist for him. He didn’t know what to expect really, if anything at all. However, a curious thing occurred upon his finger resting on the column. It began to shift and unfold as though it were a flower in bloom. What lay inside was odder still. They seemed to be hovering in midair in a yellowish mist.

“A broken wand and a book? Not exactly the treasure I was hoping for,” Bill observed.

“Who knows? Maybe their clues,” David countered. And before he could stop himself he reached inside and attempted to take the two objects. Upon doing so, a familiar voice began echoing loudly inside his head.

Find the other four vaults, David….Find my room…

Could it be…Jacob?

“Find your room?” he asked the voice aloud. “I don’t understand.”

You can’t let ‘her’ get there first! Hurry!

“Who’s her?” he asked again. “What do you mean?”

Just then he was pulled back from the center of the column by Bill.

“Dave! Snap out of it!”

“Wha?”

Bill looked at Penny and back to him, his expression confused and concerned.

“You were in some kind of trance. You kept talking to someone lime if they were in the room with us.”

“I…heard a voice,” David admitted, not knowing what else to say.

“Who?”

“My brother….told me to keep finding the other vaults. You must think I’m mad, don’t you?”

They must think I’m off my rocker. I don’t blame them either

To his surprise, neither Penny nor Bill seemed to regard him as a madman waiting to go to the looney bin.

“For what it’s worth, I believe you, Dave,” Penny spoke up.

“So do I. I could believe anything after what we just went through,” Bill agreed.

“Did he say anything specific?”

David regained his senses and analyzed the situation for a moment. How was it possible that he had just heard his brother? Even in the wizarding world, witnessing voices that weren’t there was not a good sign and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling what he heard was not the work of insanity.

“He told me to locate his room and that there are four more vaults, specifically. And to find them before ‘her’. Whoever that is.”

“Her?” Penny repeated. “This just keeps on getting weirder.”

“I concur,” Bill said. “But what about the wand and book?”

David inched closer once more and took both of the objects without further visitation from the voice. Upon inspection, he recognized the wand’s true owner.

“This is Jacob’s wand. The one he had while at Hogwarts. I’d know it anywhere.”

Bill took the leather bound journal from him and began flipping the pages, his eyebrows furrowed in befuddlement.

“This book, whoever it belonged to, is nothing but scribbles and random drawings. It appears the author was quite mad.”

“Could it be a clue to the location of the next vault?” Penny asked.

David didn’t know what to think. Far from answering questions, their journey and entry to the vault seemed to invite more questions, thickening this mystery even further. The quest to find his brother now took on a whole new meaning.

“I have no idea,” Bill said quietly after a moment of pondering. “But what I do know is that we need to get out of here before we get caught.”

Snapping back to his senses, the second year almost forgot how long they had been in here. It was long past overdue for their departure.

“Bill’s right. We don’t want to find any of the teachers waiting for us by the time we get back. It’s time to go.”

“Do you think that we stopped the cursed ice for good?” Penny wondered aloud. “I hope no one got hurt.”

It was a sentiment they all shared but one they had no way of knowing until they returned back to the halls of Hogwarts. With enough adventure completed for one day, the trio made their way out of the vault and into the thirteenth corridor.

#hogwarts mystery #fanfiction #hphm #hphm fanfiction #david grant #bill weasley #charlie weasley #penny haywood #gryffindor #hogwarts #cursed vaults #ice vault

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casseythebee · 5 years

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“You look so sexy when you’re ignoring me.” Destiel one shot

Prompt: “You look so sexy when you’re ignoring me.” Summary: After Castiel catches Dean flirting with a, quite frankly gorgeous, girl at a bar he tries to give him the silent treatment, for the first time. Pairing: Dean x Castiel (Destiel) Words: 1.2k-ish Warning: language, mostly fluff, and my shitty writing like usual A/N: I kind of added myself into the story, but with a bit of a name change, whoops. This is a prompt for “Elliana’s 400 Followers Fanciful Fluff Challenge” @thehoneybeecastielfollows hope I win *crosses fingers*

(this is not my gif)

Dean whistles walking up to a gorgeous brunette. “Somebody call the cops because it’s got to be illegal to look that good!” he proclaims.

She lets out an adorable giggle. “Dude this must suck for you!”

Dean leans onto the bar lifting an eyebrow. “What?”

“Because if I were looking for someone tonight, that totally would have worked!”

Dean drops his head so it hangs low in defeat and lets out an overdramatic, yet pretty funny, sigh. “Well, I guess tonight isn’t my lucky night, huh?” He looks up his eyes lighten up. “Can I at least buy you a drink?”

“Oh, I don’t drink.” She holds up her glass of water. “Designated driver and all.” She shrugs happiness twinkling in her large, blue eyes.

“What’s wrong Cas?” Sam asks. He had just gotten back from the bathroom, Dean was gone, and Castiel was staring daggers at the bar.

All Sam got as an answer from Cas is a grunt. So Sam tries to investigate by following his line of vision. He is staring at Dean and girl. She is totally Dean’s type, she had long brown hair, large blue eyes, a pair ripped black jeans, and- if he could see right from here- a form-flattering Black Sabbath shirt. “Just go up there, plant a big kiss on his cheek, and put an arm around his shoulders. Stake a claim. Make sure she knows that ‘This is my man and you need to step the fuck off.’”

Cas goes over there with the intentions to be subtle about ‘staking a claim’ but when he sees her touching his arm, Dean subtly moving in closer, them laughing it up over some private joke, it doesn't really work out the way he wants it to. He lets those blasted human emotions get the best of him.

“Dean? What are you doing? I thought you were going to get the drinks and come right back,” Castiel demanded, a little more aggressive then he intended it to be.

Dean looks up not noticing the pure rage in his Angel’s eyes. “Just talking to Athena over here. She is really nice. I think-”

He was cut off by Castiel throws Dean’s drink in his face.

“I hope you two are fucking happy together!” Cas exploded before stomping off toward Sam sitting at a table gawking at the whole ordeal.

“Come on he can get a cab home,” Cas fumed grabbing Baby’s keys and stomping out the door - Sam following close behind not sparing a glance for his brother - and leaving Dean sitting drenched in beer with a dumbfounded look on his face.

“I uh don’t really know what in the hell that was about,” Dean sputters trying to dry himself off.

“Hey it’s okay, I overstepped my bounds. It’s clear he likes you, you should go after him,” Athena adds insightfully.

“I… I guess so. He did take away my only way home though.” Dean chuckles under his breath imagining Sam driving them home with a grumpy little Cas sulking next to him. “I’m just going to call a cab.”

“Son of a bitch!” Cas exploded slamming the passenger seat door. “Just go straight home, no stops!”

Sam got into the 1967 Chevy Impala and started it without a word to the fuming angel sitting next to him. As soon as the car started Castiel turned the music up as loud as he dared without breaking the speakers. Once again, though Sam hated having loud music playing, he knew how angry Castiel was.

After a few minutes of no talking just blaring music and Cas staring out the window, Castiel finally turned down the music and said, “Look I know I’m overreacting, but I’m just pissed. Your brother is a jackass who makes me melt every time I look at him. And… I just don’t want to have to share him with anyone else. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yeah, when it came to… to Jess, I could get a little paranoid that she was trying to leave me for other people.” There was a pause as Sam remembered Jess and all the heartbreak that came with it. “I guess growing up in the situation I did, Dean was the only person who would love me no matter what, so when Jess showed me love from a person who wasn’t part of my family it was new. I wasn’t used to it, Dean and I were always together so I had no one else to compare our relationship too. So if we weren’t together thing just felt… odd, I guess.”

Cas took a few moments to contemplate this before answering, “Yeah, I guess I have no other romantic relationship to compare this to as well. Not many relationships to period. ”

They spent the rest of the car ride listening to the music in a much quieter manner, each lost in thought about the roller coaster that is their pasts.

Cas’s stomps echoed off of the bunker's walls as he stormed to his room.

Sighing, Sam realized that he hadn’t eaten anything at the bar and he was quite hungry. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet in the kitchen he pours himself some water and takes a leftover slice of pizza from the fridge, not bothering to heat it up. As he climbs up on the counter he sees Dean rush by holding something brightly colored.

“Cas! Come on, my Angel Love. Let me in,” Dean begs rapid-fire banging his fists on their bedroom door.

Without an answer, Dean defeatedly trudges to the kitchen. “You’ve been in a semi-healthy relationship, right? Tell me what to do, please, Sammy I need you.”

It’s not every day that you see the Dean Winchester begging for help. It’s also not very common that you see Dean with a sad look on his face holding the most colorful bouquet of flowers in one hand and a Kit Kat, Reese’s, and a Snickers in the other.

“I don’t know man. I’ve never been in a situation like this. Just try him one more time, and if he still won’t budge just go to bed and hope for the best in the morning,” Sam offered. “Sorry man.” Sam halfheartedly pats Dean’s shoulder on the way out.

The sound of Dean rummaging through the kitchen drawer is the only thing to be heard in the giant lonely bunker. Dean scribbles out a note to put next to the flowers and candy so Cas would see it in the morning. Dean decides to sleep on the couch tonight, despite the fact that there are so many other bedrooms he could have fallen asleep in.

“Pancakes, Sam?” Cas asks a groggy Sam with messy bedhead.

“Sure,” Sam runs a hand through his hair, instantly smoothing it out, “what about Dean?”

“I guess I forgot to make him some, oh well. There’s always next time,” Castiel deadpans with an unamused shrug.

“Ooo! Cas are those your pancakes I smell?” Dean asks with a twinkle.

“No,” Cas snarled bumping Dean’s shoulder on his way out of the kitchen.

“By the way,” Dean calls out, “You look so sexy when you’re ignoring me.”

With a sigh, Dean looks over to see that the chocolates are moved and the flowers are in a more interactive vase than what Dean chose last night.

Dean walks into the library of the bunker to see Cas curled up in one of Dean’s flannels reading a book Charlie had recommended, it was Fault In Our Stars.

Without another word Dean turns on one of the old twenties records turns it down low sits down in the chair opposite of the couch Castiel is sitting at and picks up where he left off in the third Divergent book, also courtesy of Charlie.

Every few minutes Dean looks up from his book - checking to see if Castiel is still okay with him being there - only see the angel engrossed in his own book.

Eventually, on the next check, Castiel is crying softly.

Padding over Dean asks, “May I sit?”

With only a sniffle in response, Dean takes it as a yes and plops down, wrapping his arms around his angel. Castiel is now sobbing into the crook of the hunter’s neck.

“Cancer! Really? Of all things! Look at all he accomplished! Oh, Augustus!” Castiel wails.

“Shhh, it will be okay.” Dean is stroking the angel’s tousled hair. “It will end soon, my Angel Love.”

“I love you, Mr. Cutiepie.”

Edited by @justluciferr

#elliana’s 400 followers fanciful fluff challenge #Destiel #dean x castiel #dean winchester #castiel #Sam Winchester #charlie bradbury #supernatural #You look so sexy when you’re ignoring me.#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #superntaural

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glare-gryphon · 7 years

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Evermore Pt 1

Whoops I wanted to have this whole fic done in time for Obikin Week, but that did not happen due to extenuating real life circumstances up to and including: purchasing a vehicle, starting a full-time job, and moving 400 miles from home on... about a week’s notice, really. So yeah, it’s been wild. I’ve got about 10k words that I will try to expand upon during the week and put more chapters up. This fic is mostly for days 1: Mistake/Regret, 2: Second Chances, & 3: Confession.

Read it here, or on Ao3

Evermore: Pt 1/~10

Rating: M

Tags: Alternative Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternative Universe - Gladiators, Alternative Universe - Beauty & the Beast, Graphic Violence, Slavery.

The dream has haunted Obi-Wan for as long as he can remember. Sands, suns, and a beast with eyes that burn like fire.

The heat of Tatooine's twin suns is as oppressive as it was the day the Naboo Starskiff crashed in the bleak wasteland of the Tatooine desert. It beats mercilessly down upon him, singing anew the perpetually burnt skin on his nose and cheeks, the tips of his ears. Even after all this time, he has not been able to develop anything close to a tan; such is the curse of birth in a fair-weather climate.

Resting in its sheath on his hip, the hide-bound hilt if his sword is an almost reassuring weight. Not quite, of course; it is not the hilt of his lightsaber, his weapon, his life. But the durasteel sword is as close as he's gotten to that weapon in a very, very long time. He longs to reach for the blade and pull it free, to eye the runes that run along the length of the blade. Symbols for protection, victory, a swift death, forged in dragon fire and glowing softly with the residual power left behind in their creation. Obi-Wan knows them as well as he knows himself, and takes comfort in their familiarity. The binders clasped around his wrists, keeping them pinned behind his back, prevent him from fulfilling that urge.

At the lip of the sunken arena, in the carved stone stands, the witnesses of this spectacle make their voices knows. They chant and yell and scream, a cacophony that may have deafened lesser men. But Obi-Wan has stood before them a hundred times before; has been on the receiving end of their jaunts and cheers. It's easy to drown them out—to focus inward and prepare himself for the coming fight. For survival.

Or at least, it used to be.

There is none of that battle-calm now, watching from the Hutt’s private box as the gates slide open on either side of the arena. Instead his heart thunders treacherously in his ears as a figure steps into the ring from the far gate, drowning out the roar of the crowd and the Hutt’s cackling laughter. The figure appears so small in comparison to the vastness of the arena. Obi-Wan knows who this is, however, even from this distance. Knows those battered, brown robes and the magnetic pull of connection even before a green lightsaber springs to life in the figure’s hands. It makes watching the Gammorian Guard, with their axes and electro-pikes, poke and prod at a beast in the shadows of the cage to the figure’s opposite all the more the more horrible. Watching the creature in the shadows unfurl, larger and larger and larger, until you begin to wonder just how something so big fit into a cage so small. Something painful twists in Obi-Wan's chest as the beast emerges, as though some unseen opponent had driven their weapon through it. He knew this was coming, but that doesn’t make the moment any less horrifying. Doesn’t make the searing, agonizing pain in his chest any easier to handle. Not this. He would take anything, do anything, face anyone if it meant sparing himself from this moment. Oh please, please, Force, no—

Obi-Wan starts awake with a ragged gasp, jerking upright, chest heaving, as his gaze flickers around him. He isn't in the strange arena now, however. The roar of the crowds has been replaced by the soft hum of the ship’s auxiliary generators. The heat that sticks his skin to his tunics is not from the planet’s twin suns, but the standard temperature of the climate-controlled engine room. He is not in the arena now.

The thought repeats itself inside of Obi-Wan’s head as he rises from his makeshift bed: little more than his travelling cloak laid out across the floor and his tabards wadded up in a rudimentary pillow. Any living quarters available aboard the ship are otherwise occupied by the Queen, her handmaidens, or the skiff’s crew. It doesn’t bother Obi-Wan, who has slept in worse places over the course of his apprenticeship under Qui-Gon Jinn. He is simply grateful for shelter from the elements.

He's not in the arena now.

For as long as Obi-Wan can remember, the dream has plagued his sleeping hours. It disturbed his rest in the creche, sending him fleeing into the arms of his guardians with tales of dragons and duels and death as his heart tore itself apart inside his chest. They had taken him into their arms, comforted him, but Obi-Wan Kenobi was never known for a gift of precognition. All dreams pass in time, they would say, stroking his hair until he calmed before sending him back to bed with his crechemates. There is only so many times one can hear it before the words begin to lose their meaning.

In his padawan years, the dreams wax and wane like tides. Sometimes days, months, will pass between their visitations. Other times he will wake, sweaty and panting, ears ringing with a phantom crowd's scream, every single night. He'd been frightened to approach Qui-Gon on the matter, fearing the same rejection from the Master he so loved, but the pressure of secrecy broke his will before long. As it turns out, the future is always in motion is just as exhausting to hear as all dreams pass in time.

The future is always in motion, but the dream is a constant. It feels like a certainty, like a boulder in the center of a vast, raging river. The very stream of time parts around it, caving to the power of that moment. Obi-Wan had been too clumsy, too inexperienced in the ways of the Force, to understand it as a child. He is not a child anymore, however. He can feel the Force woven through every moment of his suffering. This will be his destiny, no matter what paths he chooses to tread.

The path he treads now is one leading out of the engine room, into the cooler halls of the ship and their sterile, white light. At this hour, there is hardly anyone left awake. The sandstorm that had driven them all inside had started only shortly before dusk, and Obi-Wan would estimate that it must be the middle of the night now.

His suspicions are confirmed as he walks the halls of the ship, no clear destination in mind, just to keep moving. Just to keep thoughts of the dream at bay. The only beings he passes over the course of his wanderings are a few mouse droids, encountered in the ship’s cargo hold. They’ve formed a small conversation circle, chattering to each other in their strange language. Obi-Wan does not have any particular attachment to droids, can not understand them, but he finds their antics quite amusing in this instance.

Apparently, he isn’t the only one. Soft, melodic laughter sounds from just behind him, startling the padawan. He must truly be out of sorts to have not noticed another’s approach. Fortunately the presence is neither hostile nor particularly dangerous, in this instance. Just one of the Queen’s handmaidens, smiling fondly down at the droids over Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Obi-Wan does not know her name, but the shade of her eyes is just so subtly darker than those of the Queen’s, allowing Obi-Wan to identify her as her own person instead of just the Queen’s handmaidens.

“One of them has just spoken with the ship,” she confides, “and it seems to be quite unhappy about the sandstorm earlier. They’re glad to be indoors; they don’t think their circuits would hold up well out there.”

“You speak binary?” Obi-Wan asks, stepping aside to allow her more fully into the small cargo bay.

A faint flush rises to her cheeks, and she sheepishly admits, “I have a fondness for mechanics. It’s easier to get to the root of a problem when you can speak to them.”

“I’d imagine there’s not much mechanical work to be done, when you’re accompanying the Queen.” The purpose of the handmaidens is to be indistinguishable, to hide the Queen from dangers and prying eyes. Individuality does no one favors when your goal is to be identical.

Her smile falters slightly at his comment. “No, not really. In our off hours though, when the Queen is on planet and our presence is not required, we are permitted to pursue our own interests.”

“Is that what has you up in the middle of the night?”

“I read that this planet has three moons,” she says, “just like home. Now that the sandstorm has died down, I want to see whether they shine as brightly as our own.”

Her statement is innocuous, innocent, but it scratches at something in the back of Obi-Wan’s mind. Something that reminds him of the weight pressing down and the dream he’d almost forgotten about over the course of their conversation. “You’re not intending to go outside, are you?”

She smiles at him, a wry thing thrown over her shoulder as she makes her way toward the cargo ramp’s controls. “Where else would I see the sky? The pilots are asleep in the cockpit, and I don’t want to disturb them.”

“It’s dangerous to go out at night!” Obi-Wan protests.

“So come with me, Master Jedi,” she replies, pressing a button and lowering the ramp. “I’m sure with your skill, you can keep me safe.”

In the end, Obi-Wan does not learn whether or not Tatooine’s moons shine as brightly as those orbiting Naboo. With the Force clamoring in his ears, he does not notice the Raiders coming until it is far too late to stop them. Until they have the handmaiden, a dusty, scavenged blaster pressed to her skull. Until he has no other option but to drop his lightsaber—his weapon, his life—to the sand in surrender. This is not what he saw in his dreams, but the padawan knows somewhere in his gut that this is where the nightmare begins.

Then, with the swing of another Raider’s gaffa stick, Obi-Wan knows no more.

#obikinweek17 #obikin #this chapter is not my best work but it's going up anyways #i'm done fighting with it #gryph fic

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