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comehomeducklings · 5 months
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ミ★ ᴀᴍʙɪᴛɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴀꜱᴄᴇɴᴛ ★彡
𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮
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Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x capitol!OC
Summary: Seraphina Phoenix shares Snow's ambitious nature and determination to rise within Capitol society. Their shared drive creates a mutual respect that slowly transforms into an unexpected romance, complicating their goals and loyalties.
WC: 5k
Masterlist ; Prologue, Ch. 1 (soon),
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It was cold, so cold that every breath resulted in a dragon’s roar of smoke coming from a little girl’s mouth. She looked at her hands smothered with wooly gloves, the same gloves she begged her mom to leave at home because it made her hands unbelievably itchy. When those gloves were removed, the skin touching the wool would be irritated, red beyond belief. She understood the argument her mother made now. Even with the gloves adorned, she could barely move the tips of her fingers. She was sure if she dropped a brick on her hand that it would shatter into millions of pieces. The gloves seemed of little use now because her hand was still cold, but without them, her fingers would probably fall off like her mom said they would. Seraphina quickly used her gloves to shove her scarf further up her face. It was difficult to actually grasp the material since the cold stopped much movement from her tiny fingers. Her nose twitched with the newfound material covering it. The scarf also served as a makeshift tissue to wipe away the snot running down from her nose. She glances around at the other mothers who grasped their kid’s hands within their own. She yearned for that, not for the affectionate part because her mother was not one to show she cared in the regular, outwardly ways. She craved the extra warmth that another’s hand gave, so it could warm up her own in the process. The other children looked like they did not agree with the cold either. Their mothers furiously wiped at their noses which agitated the redness further, their noses looked like the tomatoes the cook would prepare in the kitchen. Seraphina’s dad said hers looked like Rudolph, but when her confused face looked up at the man, he tried to explain how it was an old fairy tale they used to sing about. When she asked again what a fairy tale was, he gave up on the explanation and ushered her out the door.
When she glanced behind her mother’s body, she saw this woman walking quickly to where they were. The poor boy who was on the receiving end of her arm was dragged in an attempt to keep up with his mother.
“Is that you Mrs. Phoenix, how have you been?”
She seemed out of breath as she did one last drag of her son’s arm to plant him right next to her. She quickly fiddled with his coat and smoothed down his unruly curls to try to make him look the least bit presentable. The cold air took his hair and flung it around the place despite her efforts. Seraphina thought of offering up her frizz cream, but she left it at home. ”
“Yes, I have been as I’ve always been, you?”
“Oh yes, well, I am doing well, thank you for asking. This is your daughter?” She stumbled a bit on her words. Seraphina’s mother seemed to have that effect on people, her way of speaking always seemed to intimidate the other person in the conversation. It had a twinge of perturb, as if the counterpart was a distant face even if it was her closest acquaintance. It always left her wondering if her mother tolerated the person she spoke to or if she despised their entire being.
Mrs. Phoenix tapped Seraphina on the back as a gesture for her to introduce herself. 
“Hello ma’am, my name is Seraphina Phoenix, it is a pleasure to meet you.” Her robotic voice chirped in a phrase that seemed very well-thought-out. It should have been, for she had been taking lessons on her manner of speaking ever since her mother caught her with a twinge of a District accent. It was all the fault of the books she had been reading, ever since she could actually retain information no book was left untouched. There were books on the lower shelves which were thoughtfully laid out by her dad so she could read both informative and children's books. These pages usually ranged from counting sheep to learning how to genetically modify an organism. The end of that range was typically avoided till her older years, since she could barely hold the weight of the book back to her seat. Mr. Phoenix eventually switched those informative books into more comprehensive information a five-year-old may understand. Although, they still talked about how our DNA can be altered into a different species. It just spoke about it in a more understanding sense, often using pictures of a chicken’s head on a monkey’s body. There were some books, though, that were made by people in the Districts. These books often talked about imaginary places, they used vocabulary Seraphina would not hear in any other place. The problem arose when her mother caught her using a slang word and ultimately decided to discard those books for good. Those were always her favorite, she would get lost in the imaginary lands that would take her far from the actual world she was in. She could see why her mother did not like them, she always said that maladaptive daydreaming was for the poor. The Phoenix’s were far from poor, but not wasteful. 
“Aren’t you a cute one, very well-spoken. This is my boy Sejanus,” she looked at her son expectantly. He looked like he wanted to go run and hide in his mother’s coat. After a bit of silence, his mother laughed awkwardly and pushed him a bit towards Seraphina.
“Um, I’m Sejanus,” he spoke after the slight nudge, the Phoenixes assumed that was his name after his mother just spoke of it. Seraphina kept that to herself because she could see he was nervous due to the possibility of it being his first time meeting someone of their nature.
She outstretched her hand and plastered a big smile which cracked her lips open a bit, “Good evening! Are you going to the same school I’m going to?”
The little boy eagerly shook his head in an up-and-down motion and relaxed his shoulders a bit. His posture was so rigid it looked like he could break in half, she immediately thought of those peacocks she read about. The males who tried to puff out their feathers to appear stronger, confident. 
Sejanus outstretched out his own hand to shake hers, “I think so, are there multiple schools?”
Seraphina took her finger and placed it on her chin, in deep thought she spoke “Well no, so I guess you are.”
Her mother started to gesture towards the path in an attempt to keep moving, “We must be going, it was nice to meet you Seraphina.”
Seraphina waved at her newfound friend, she thought he was a bit timid and spoke weirdly but thought not much of it. He probably did not have to go through the lessons she did, all she knew was that his hand was nice and warm within his mother’s grasp and those gloves were not made of wool.
As they continued on the path to the school, she looked around at all the kids her age and tried to make a mental note of each one. These were to be her new classmates, a sort of family in a sense. Her mother said that these are going to be faces she will be seeing for the rest of her life, unless one fails so badly that they would have to be removed from the program. It would be a disgrace upon their whole family. It should not be too hard to pass this level, for she was only seven. The older girl who is their next-door neighbor told her that it gets harder every year, so someone as young as she is only has to deal with information a seven-year-old should know. 
“Mother, who were those people?”
Her mom kept her head straight while answering, “The Plinths, they are new to the Capitol. They come from District Two and their little boy is a year older than you are.”
Her head swarmed with this newfound information. District, they are a family from District Two and her mother held a conversation with them. It was a short one at that, her mother was never one to babble. Except with her father, he was the only one able to make her laugh and talk. She sometimes earned a smile from her mother, but Mrs. Phoenix would only speak when her child started the conversation. She loved her daughter, just in a different way than most mothers did. 
“District? You said all people from there were not, what is the word again?”
Her mother’s mouth upturned at the sides just a little to ghost a bit of humor, “Unsophisticated?”
Seraphina brightened at the reminder of the word just at the tip of her tongue, “Yes! That one, you said they don’t belong here. So why are they here?”
Her mother took a moment before speaking, “It’s a bit complicated.” Mrs. Phoenix tried her best to rack her brain to think of a way to explain this to her seven-year-old without compromising everything she understood. “They used to be District, but now they are Capitol. They have become sophisticated, like us. They proved their image to be well enough to live amongst us.
“Does that mean District can be like us,” Seraphina questions.
Her mother shook her head, “Most cannot be taught. They’re like animals, some can be caged while others are too rabid.”
The Plinths must be a special case, some that most people do not agree with. Judging by her mother’s body language toward Mrs. Plinth, she did not really have a certain conviction for the family. It was safe to assume that interacting with the little boy would not be of much interference with her family’s image. That thought brightened Seraphina’s day, he was a new friend to go through this new phase in her life.
After some time lost in her own thoughts, her mother stopped amongst a set of stairs to a large building. There was water spurting out of a large fountain that she must have missed while in her head. All the other children started to say goodbye to their parents and head in. Some kids were crying and refusing to be left alone. Seraphina could understand where they were coming from. She too, was a bit wary of the large building in front of her, the pillars that held the building up looked like Jack’s beanstalk her father used to read to her about. The swirls that were carved into the white stone reminded her of the branches that would help Jack climb to the treasure. The treasure, this time, would be the gift of knowledge and a chance at a future to make her family proud. 
“Are you leaving now,” Seraphina turns to her mother and she nods her head.
“Yes, you’ll have to walk home today for your dad and I will still be at work,” Mrs. Phoenix fixed her daughter’s scarf up a bit and adjusted her coat. “Make sure to stick with a buddy on your way home, we don’t want you getting lost or hurt.”
Seraphina starts to walk up the steps, “Yes mother, I understand.”
Mrs. Phoenix raises her voice just a bit, “Make sure to do your best, Phoenix’s do what?”
Seraphina turns her body and shouts, “They soar!” She turns back around and starts to quickly move up each steep step.
Her excitement grows as she enters the building, there are people directing her to a door that leads to a massive hall. Above the doorway read “Heavensbee Hall,” and inside were chairs all lined up perfectly. The space between each chair was evenly distributed with miraculous accuracy. Everything was symmetrical to lead attention towards the podium that was at the end of the walkway in the very middle. 
Seraphina assumed that important adults were the only ones allowed to be on the podium. She saw a kid that was a bit younger than her try to climb up onto it before he was stopped by a guard. They took the boy by his arm and led him to his seat near the back, she found that those of higher status would sit in the front. She could tell they were higher class because of the minuscule details her parents made sure she had. Like a special type of hair clip made out of fine stone and socks that were laced with the finest of cloth. Silk bows adorned these little girls' hair and the boys’ shoes were polished with a slight blue shimmer that only a certain type of brand could achieve. It also helped that these kids were a bit familiar to the eye, for a lot of them were neighbors to the Phoenix household. A lot of their mothers would bring them gifts in an attempt to soften Mrs. Phoenix up to them. It never worked, she always detested suck-ups. She taught her daughter that suck-ups are people who try to fill in the void where there is nothing to show, no talent, no charm, no power, nothing.
While admiring the tall ceilings, a boy accidentally bumps into her back, causing her to trip on the carpet below. Luckily, she caught her step quickly enough and fixed her posture. When she turned around to find the culprit, it was Sejanus, the same boy who she met earlier that morning.
“Oh hello, it’s you again. Are you okay?” Seraphina looks at the boy on the floor who scrambles up quickly. 
Sejanus fixes his stance and rubs his nose in an attempt to hide his embarrassment, “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. This is just a really big room.”
Seraphina giggled quietly and continued on down the hall, she looked back to see if he was following, but she caught him staring wide-eyed at the surrounding environment, “Are you coming? We have to find out seats.”
“Oh yeah, yeah of course. My Ma told me that I’m in the second row,” Sejanus quickened his steps in order to walk right beside her. His shoes were polished, with a blue tint that only the richest could afford. He looked uncomfortable in the shoes, like he had never worn them before. From what her mother said, he is probably new to them. The Districts never got much, except for some sneakers and sandals that were always too small. She would catch a few strays digging through the family’s trash in hopes of finding useful items. One time she put some clothes her mother said she was outgrowing in the same trash for those people to find. By the next morning when she checked the garbage can the clothes she laid out were gone, all that was left was an engraving in the dirt that read “Thank you.” At least, she believed that is what it said because the handwriting was quite awful and some words were misspelled. The words were written in a way that sounded right but looked wrong.
“I like your shoes,” Seraphina pointed out. They were nice, she was sure that if she had a brother then he would have the same shoes he did.
“Thank you, Ma polished them for me!”
Seraphina furrowed her brows for a bit and then relaxed into a neutral expression. She assumes that the “Ma” he is speaking of is his mother. She had never heard anyone refer to their mom like that. It is usually in some form of “Mother,” “Mom,” “Mrs,” or “Ma’am,”  more on the formal side. 
“You call your mom, Ma?”
Sejanus nods his head and starts squeezing his way into the second row of chairs, “Mhm, what do you call yours?”
Seraphina smiles, “Mother, sometimes mom when we’re home.”
The conversation ends while he is trying to find the seat that belongs to him. He steps on a few people’s shoes which aggravates a lot of the kids in the section he is in. He then changed direction and moved back to the front of that specific row. Seraphina hopes he doesn’t make too many enemies, they only just started, and she doesn’t know if she would be able to explain her new friend’s personality to the boys and girls around her. She fixes her hair and adjusts the headband on her head before moving towards the front. Most of the kids are already sitting, except the front row who is standing and conversing with each other. She notices that none of the rows look behind them to speak to the other ranks. It might be a power play or the nature of the Capitol. She hopes that it is not an unspoken rule of any kind because she would break it when speaking to Sejanus. 
Seraphina looks at the front row and sees a couple of chairs without any inhabitants, but she is not so sure if they all have assigned seats. Since Sejanus went looking for a specific seat, she assumed that they were reserved for specific people. She does not want to anger anyone by taking their seat on the first day, so she asks a little girl around her age who was seated in the very first chair, “Hello, my name is Seraphina Phoenix. Do we have assigned seats?”
The little girl jumped out of her seat and took Seraphina’s hand into hers to shake it dramatically, “I’m Arachne Crane, it’s nice to meet you! My mother has told me much about the Phoenix’s and their legacy,” she continues babbling on for a bit before remembering the question at hand. “Oh the seating, the first row is for the elites, we get to choose the specific seat we prefer. Each row down is for the generations after us, they are all assigned a seat based on their family’s influence.”
Seraphina refrained herself from laughing at the boisterous girl in front of her. She talked super fast and she liked that about her. People who talked slowly usually did not know what to say and took their time to buy themselves more time to scramble a response.
“Can we be seating buddies,” Seraphina asks in hopes of not getting stuck with the seat all the way near the end. Her friend Sejanus is in the seat behind Arachne, so sitting here would be easy access to talking with her friend. 
“Yeah sure! The girl who tried to seat her earlier didn’t have an accessory in her hair. She even tried to borrow mine.” She scoffs, “As if, someone who can’t buy a simple accessory doesn’t belong in this row.”
Seraphina subconsciously adjusted her headband, “I guess so, maybe she forgot hers?”
Arachne shrugged, “You see on the other side, the tall boy? He’s my brother, they are all a year ahead of us. He’s always bragging to me about how he’s smarter and whatever. I mean, of course he’s smarter, I haven’t even started school yet.” She rolls her eyes and continues talking about all the awards she is planning on winning. She starts talking about these equations she has been studying, but Seraphina tunes her out after a bit of time. Seraphina started to take the bulky coat she had on and placed it, along with her scarf, over the head of her seat. When she turns to put the items on her chair, she casts a quick glance over at Sejanus.
He is seen fumbling with his fingers and making quick conversation with the kids around him. He has more of a response when speaking to the row behind him rather than his own row. The girl next to him looks like she is fuming smoke out of her ears, Sejanus probably stole the spot her family would have been in if he did not rise up in status. The poor boy is already making enemies by just existing. Her attention sways back to Arachne, who just finished her opinion about how fictional literature is a waste of the brain’s capacity. 
“Arachne, since we are friends now I have to make a nickname for you.”
Arachne abruptly stops what she is talking about and plasters a decent-sized smile, “A nickname? For you to call me or everyone?”
Seraphina pondered for a moment, “Well, nicknames are usually for close groups or people you know very, very well. So, maybe it can be for us in the front row,“ Seraphina clapped her hands excitedly. “We can have nicknames for just each other, something that tells us apart from the other rows.”
“I like that idea, your name should be Sera,” Arachne chimed. Seraphina liked the name she was given. It is simple, and an easy name to remember. She loves her name because of the meaning behind it, but it does get tiring to say. Her name is a bit long to write on a name tag as well. When she was practicing the letters during study time at home, her name was the hardest to perfect because of how many letters it uses in the alphabet. The length of it always made her hand hurt quicker from the number of times she had to repeatedly dot it down. Sera was a nice, simple name that sounded pretty to the ears and used the best part of her name. The small amount of syllables made it easier for the brain to remember. Since it rolls off the tongue, people will want to say her name more often. Her full name was usually rarely ever called since it required a lot of effort for the other person to remember the way it was pronounced. All of her teachers at home would misspell her name at times. Her new friend here would probably understand, her name sounds difficult to spell. 
“Ara is pretty too, you have to remember to introduce your full name and then your nickname after so people use it too.”
Arachne nodded, “Yes I will, but only this row. I won’t tell my brother because he will probably do the same thing. I hate when he copies me.”
Seraphina will probably relate to that in the future once her baby sister is grown up. She is looking forward to finding her clothes missing, with them draped over her sister’s head. When her father is at work, it’s quiet in the household. Her mother is typically out or lost in a book, she takes after both of them in various ways. Once she starts reading a book, it is hard to put it down. Getting that book in her hand is a difficult task, she is always bouncing off the walls in a  frenzy.
Most of the seats seemed filled, with the chatter slowly dying out. Two more guests arrive and make their way to the first row. One of them was a girl, tall with fair skin and a sharp chin. The boy beside her also had fair skin with blond curls. He had sharp blue eyes that seemed to pierce the room in scrutiny. As they made their way to the front row, the whole room hushed into whispers.
Arachne turned to look back from her seat, “Looks like the Snows are here.” She quickly stands from her chair and fixes her dress by patting it down to rid of the wrinkles that may have formed from sitting. It was a ridiculous idea, for her dress seemed ironed to the point where any more heat would have burned a hole through the fabric. 
The little boy let the girl he came with walk in front of him to a seat near where Ara and her resided. There was a free seat next to Seraphina, although only that seat was free, as the other seat was inhabited by another. The little boy gave a look to the guy seated in the chair, and he quickly stood up to pick a chair on the end side of the row. The blonde boy then took a seat beside Seraphina while the other girl took the seat right beside him. Seraphina could feel her friend Ara practically bursting with excitement over these seating arrangements.
Arachne gently pushes Sera’s shoulder back in an attempt to have access to the boy better, “My name is Arachne, from the Cane family, but you can call me Ara.”
The boy next to her glances her way and nods his head in such a small movement that it would have been missed by any other if not paying attention. 
“My name is Coriolanus Snow, this is Tigris, my cousin. It’s nice to meet you Arachne.”
At the mention of her name, Tigris turns her head towards Arachne and offers her a smile, ‘Hello Ara! We have heard much of the Crane family, your house is across from ours is it not?”
Arachne continued to stare at the boy named Coriolanus, “It is, my father is well versed with yours. I shall call you Coryo.”
Coryo seemed displeased with this nickname, with a slight grimace at the mention of it. His cousin made that nickname a while ago. It was only acceptable when Tigris called him that.
“What is your name?” Seraphina looks to her left to see both the Snows looking at her expectantly. She believes the boy, Coriolanus, is the one who asked her the question. He probably is trying to escape the penetrating eyes of her friend Ara.
“Seraphina Phoenix, it is nice to meet you both.”
“That’s a pretty name, rolls off the tongue,” Tigris exclaims.
Coriolanus tilts his head slightly, “Phoenix? You’re the daughter of Emery Phoenix.”
Tigris moves Coryo’s head out of the way to get a better view of Seraphina, “Like the guy who created pyrotechnics?”
Coriolanus laughed a bit while fixing the one strand that got out of place when he was pushed backward, “He’s done much more than that Tigris but yes. The fireworks we buy for your birthday come from him.”
Tigris’s smile grew unbelievably brighter. Seraphina was afraid that it would widen to a point where it would hurt her mouth from the stretch.
“Oh I do love those fireworks,” she says. “They always spell my name out, like magic!”
“It’s one of my favorite inventions he’s made so far, the first time he tried them out he almost burned down the room,” Seraphina reminisces. He set off one of those “fireworks” in their library. She was sitting in a chair reading when he came in to show her his new invention. The firework, he called it, was said to burst into a thousand little stars with a chivalrous bang. She quickly found out what it did when he accidentally lit it when showing her where to light it up to set it off. Luckily, her mother was able to stomp out one of the sparks that caught onto the rug. They were in a fit of giggles while her mother was scolding the both of them for almost burning down the building and themselves, while all they could manage was laugh. Her mother ended up fighting a smile while confiscating the leftover firework parts. Her father always managed to put a little spark into their lives.
“Oh how scandalous, are you both alright?” Tigris asks.
Arachne furrows her brows, “Of course they’re alright, she’s right in front of you?”
“You can call me Sera if you wish, or my full name, whichever is easier.” she interrupts. “My friend Ara and I made these nicknames, so our row could use them to distinguish each other”
Tigris smiles, “Sera is very pretty, my name is already short so I assume I wouldn’t need one.”
Seraphina shakes her head, “You can have one too! Like T, or Titi, or Ti, or maybe Iris.”
“Ooh Iris is a good one,” Arachne agrees.
Tigris gently giggles and shakes her head, “I think Tigris is fine.” Tigris then directs her attention towards Sera in a whisper, “You can call me any of those if you want, just not Iris.”
They both giggled and turned their attention back to the center podium, where a man stood at the center, tapping the microphone to bring everyone’s attention to where he stood. He is an intimidating man, with dark eyes that seem to seep into your desires and thoughts that are never to be spoken in the presence of anyone.
“Settle down children, we are already behind schedule.”
The chatter that once filled the hall immediately quieted down until all you could hear was gentle breaths being emitted. Except for someone in the far back, wheezing a bit too loud. It was probably the dust that adorned every item in this dated building. They should hire maids to dust around here, it might dirty someone’s clothes or mess with the freshly polished shoes most boys seem to be wearing lately. 
“Welcome to the Academy, My name is Casca Highbottom and this is where you will be spending your time studying and advancing your way to further years. As children of the Capitol, you are expected to uphold challenging expectations. As of now, this program is fairly new and was created to introduce the younger generations to knowledge before the four years of the official academic program the Academy offers. The children on the right are the first group of students to test out the program, this is now their second year and will be attending secondary school after they have been fully through this vigorous program. They have shown miraculous improvement in their comprehension skills, which has furthered the program into allowing another wave of students to join, which would be you lot.”
Arachne’s brother is in the group Mr. Highbottom mentioned, this program was made just last year to improve their student population’s test levels. The past generations seemed to have been slowing down on their academic vigor, and none have produced the level of creativity and intelligence the academy used to produce. Their parents were the last generation to truly show results in their teaching who moved on to become important members of the Capitol with their innovations. This program allows kids ages six through eight to enter the program, it goes by groups of years rather than ages, which is why there are six through eight-year-olds scattered within the groups of students. Seraphina is seven, within the middle group, so not too young to grasp things but not too old to be expected to know much.
Mr. Highbottom coughs into his handkerchief and wipes the inner corners of his mouth with it, “You are to uphold our values and if you prove promise then the brightest students may move on to the Academy. We hope to see these promising faces in the years to come. Make sure to pick up the list of supplies and the books that should already be memorized and easily recited when asked. 
Once the Dean steps down the hall erupts with voices, some excited while some wavered. The Snows immediately stand up from their chairs and Coriolanus moves to retrieve two papers for both him and Tigris.
“We must be going,” Tigris says. “It was very nice meeting you Sera, and you Arachne.” She picked up her coat and quickly moved her long arms into the sleeves. The two children made their leave out of the hall, and out into the cold winter. 
“I can’t believe Coryo sat near us, my father is going to freak now a Snow knows of me. Once our families are well acquainted with each other then I could see Coryo anytime I want. Oh and that cousin of his, don’t you think she’s a bit weird?”
Seraphina took the coat off of her chair and started buttoning it up to her neck, “Not really, she seemed quite sweet.” After putting on her scarf, Sera spoke a quick goodbye to Ara and waved at Sejanus for him to join her.
“What did you think?”
“Of what,” Sejanus questions.
“Of this program, it’s a lot to take in. He spoke kind of fast.” 
“Oh yeah that,” Sejanus attempted to put on his gloves, but his fingers kept fitting into the wrong hole, “I’m worried about the reading, I haven’t read a lot of books, so I would have to catch up.”
Seraphina thought of the plethora of books she had read so far, when looking at the list she snagged, she noticed that a lot of these books were read when she was merely five years old, “I can help you if you want. We have all of these at home in our library, I can give you a rundown of most of them if you can’t read them all in time.”
Sejanus’s mother was waiting for him at the bottom of the steps, waving at him. 
“You are the best, I gotta go, my Ma is waiting for me. By Seraphina!”
“Bye-bye!” Once her friend had left her she made her way down the flight of stairs and into the cold night of Panem. With all but the warmth of her heart, excited for the opportunities to come.
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comehomeducklings · 5 months
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ミ★ ᴀᴍʙɪᴛɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴀꜱᴄᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ★彡
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Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x capitol!OC
Summary: Seraphina Phoenix shares Snow's ambitious nature and determination to rise within Capitol society. Their shared drive creates a mutual respect that slowly transforms into an unexpected romance, complicating their goals and loyalties.
✰ Prologue: Nice To Meet You
✰ Chapter 1: Coming soon
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comehomeducklings · 11 months
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Insufferable - Chapter One
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Pairing: Neteyam x Oc
Synopsis: After years of bitter rivalry and endless clashes, Neteyam and Ainai reluctantly work together on a high-stakes mission. As they navigate treacherous obstacles and unexpected dangers, they begin to discover surprising layers to each other's personalities. Slowly, the walls they've built around themselves start to crumble, giving way to an unexpected connection. Will they be able to put aside their past grievances and embrace their growing feelings, or will their shared history prove to be an insurmountable barrier?
WC: 2.1k
A/N: This chapter will basically be a load of information to start off their journey. This is an enemies-to-lovers trope where they will maintain their snarky combats even when they are all lovey-dovey. The first few chapters will be building up toward their mission which starts off their romance.
Na'vi Compendium: tsahik- spiritual leader, Olo’eyktan- clan leader, paskalin- honey, sa'nok- mother, yawntutsyìp- darling/little loved one
⇨ Series Masterlist ⇦
The whole clan has gathered to celebrate Tiwell and Koxa’s blessing from Eywa, me. I’ve just been born after several scares I put my mother through while she was pregnant. I remember being adorned with the finest cloths and drowned in jewelry specially made for newborns. At one point I started to cry from all the loud noises that surrounded me. So many people whose faces I would yet be introduced to come up to my parents to congratulate them. When I was old enough I eventually asked my parents why my birth was made into a big deal. Other babies who were born later than me would not have such a big party as I did. Of course, there were mini what our leader would call, “baby showers,” that replaced the big parties. I never understood why they would call it a baby shower back on Earth. I eventually came to the conclusion that it was due to showering the baby with love, affection, and gifts rather than actual water. They eventually explain that my birth had a big celebration because the Tsahik had been receiving signs of my birth years before my mother, Koxa, was pregnant. The only other time she had signs like that was for Neteyam, our leader’s child. It also helps that my parents are close friends with the Sullys. That family made sure that this party was big and boastful, as it was for their own child. This paved the way for my long-lasting friendships with their children. 
⊲──✿──⊳
My mother pushed me forward, “Ainai, these kids are our Olo’eyktan’s children.” I wave in an anxious manner. I have met Mr. and Mrs. Sully before when I was just old enough to talk, but I have never interacted with their children before.
One girl gently waves back while the boy beside her keeps his gaze trained on the floor. They both look around the same age as me while the other boy next to his father looks about a year older. The older one kept his gaze fixed on me, he had an air of authority around him. This confused me a lot because he was as small as the rest of us. From there on, these people would come to be like extended family all except for one boy.
⊲──✿──⊳
“Isn’t this the prettiest flower you’ve ever seen,” I shove a tiny blue flower into Kiri’s face. 
She takes the flower and twirls it between her fingers, “It is very pretty, it is like the color of your skin.”
We continue to fiddle with the new flower I found. Kiri is right, it is very similar to my shade of tone. It was near a river and looked to be the only survivor left along its little flower bed. The rest were trampled from what seemed like Thanator footprints.
“Look at what I found!”
Kiri and I turn towards the voice to find Neteyam holding a basket filled to the brim. Every step he takes seems to tip the contents over the edge, the ground ends up scattered with flowers. When he reaches us he dumps the flowers onto the ground in front of our legs still damp from the morning dew. An array of resplendent floras are all mixed in a messy pile in front of our feet.
“Wow, Nete! These are the best flowers I have ever seen in this forest.” Kiri stands up from the place next to me and starts shifting through the pile in search of the very best for her crafts. I stay rooted to my spot, pouting as Neteyam shows me up in yet another little hobby of mine. 
“Nai these are for you too, you are free to pick whichever you like.” 
I huff and turn away quickly to start the trek back home through the forest, “No thanks, I don’t want those weeds.” 
Neteyam follows me quickly, since he is a year older everything seems to come easily for him. It is starting to get on my nerves.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m finding someone who will appreciate my gift.”
“You have to come back, I promised that I would look after you and the others,” Neteyam attempts to grab onto my arm, “you are being dramatic.”
I gasp and turn around to look at him, “Am not!”
“Are too,” he says in a “matter of fact" tone. This only served to further irritate me, and I found my eyes watering a bit. Before he could notice, I throw my flower on the ground and storm off back to the village.
⊲──✿──⊳
“Keep only three fingers on the bow Ainai, not four,” Mr. Sully explains while fixing my grip. I’ve been having a bit of trouble with my training lately, it just felt so unnatural the way we held our bows. It would feel so much more stable if I could hold it with four fingers instead of three. It doesn’t help that my ring finger could barely hold onto the heavy bow as is.
I could hear a snicker in the background and I immediately lose all confidence in myself. I angrily turn around, “What seems to be so funny?”
Neteyam straightens up and grins, “How do you expect to fight with us if you cannot even hold the weapon correctly.”
“At least when I shoot, my arrow actually hits the target-”
“Enough, both of you,” Mr. Sully removes the bows from both of us and sets them down leaning on a tree, “none of you should be insulting the other when neither has successfully mastered this simple technique.”
Both Neteyam and I held our gazes to the grass below us, neither of us saying a word. I twiddle my fingers lightly. I always hated getting him angry because it came from a place of disappointment. My parents worked hard to get me the opportunity to train with our leader and his son. So when I mess up I take it to heart a little more than others, because I know that I could be replaced with another Na’vi more skillful than me. I will not be able to surpass Neteyam if I am to train with another warrior. Not that any of them are not a master in their field, Mr. Sully is just the best as they come. Since Neteyam is training by him, I have to be trained by him too if I wish to become as good, or better yet, the best. 
“I’m sorry Mr. Sully-”
“I’m sorry sir.”
Jake watches his kids for a moment and heaves a sigh, “You both are dismissed, we will be adding an extra day of training to try to fix the mistakes we seem to continuously have.”
“Yes sir,” I say.
I grab my bow and knock Neteyam’s out of his reach so he would have to bend down to retrieve it. While I walk away I hear his grunt of displeasure from my actions and I try my hardest to push back a smile that tries to creep up on my face. 
“That wasn’t very nice,” Kiri says while she catches up to my stride. She had a bunch of flowers in her hair so she probably came from the flower field not too far from here. Kiri always had something interesting going on about her. The other day she made a crown out of a bunch of sticks for each and every one of us. This little quirk of hers was probably my favorite thing about her. She loves making crafts and especially loves to gift her family and friends with them.
“He deserves it, he got us in trouble,” I counter.
“You both always go at it, almost as bad as he is with Lo’ak.”
I puff out my chest, “That is because Lo’ak is just as smart as I am and he’s jealous he’s not smart like us!” 
Kiri playfully bumps my shoulder with hers, “I’m sure when we get older you both will be as thick as thieves!”
“What does “Thick as thieves mean”?”
“Like, um, well Dad says it's when you are really close with someone like best friends.”
“Then why would we be thick, and why would we steal,” I question. The Sully family is always saying these weird sayings from Earth. Some are common sense while the others perplex even the brightest minds among the clan. 
“Oh hush-” Kiri pushes me forward and we erupt in a fit of giggles. 
We finally arrive at the village and I leave her side to enter my home. Inside I find my mother cooking and my dad nowhere to be seen.
“Welcome home paskalin, the food will be ready soon.” My mother continues to move around in the kitchen while I take in the aroma. The most noticeable note is the scent of fish clinging to the air. Before entering too deep into the house I set my bow off to the side. My mother hates when my father and I leave any weapons around the house. She says it makes it seem as though we are a messy family and do not respect our surroundings. In our defense, most of the guests we invite over are the Sully’s, and they have weapons everywhere.
The front door opens and my father walks in, “I’m back, I was making some quick conversation with Jake.”
“Quick is not the word I would use for when the two of you speak but I digress,” my mother pecks him on the cheek and continues adding the finishing touches to our dinner. She is extremely skillful when dealing with any kind of meat and fish. I bet that if I gave her one vegetable from our garden that she could make a whole meal out of it.
I move towards the cabinets to take out some plates to start setting up the table. To start off, I set down three plates near each other at the end of the table. My sa’nok comes with a plate of fish and sets one down at each of our spots. A lot of the Omaticaya people, my people, usually eat on the floor. They would have mats to soften the ground and designate where a person could sit. My family has a table and chairs just like the Sully’s, we got the idea from them. My mother would admire the intricate woven patterns that the wood of the table would exhibit in their home. Eventually, she had my dad learn how to build one and we all got to carve its designs together. This happened last year when I turned the appropriate age to use a hunting knife. We were singing while making hearts and all other kinds of symbols into the wooden exterior. 
“Momma, do you think I’ll be good as Nok and the others when it comes to combat?”
Nok is a slightly older guy in our clan, he has a couple of years on Neteyam and I. They both often get into arguments even though they barely see one another. Nok already went through the process of getting an ikran. He got his banshee at age 13, which makes him one of the youngest in the clan to complete this ritual. He always rubs this fact in Neteyam’s face, he says that he will probably get his ikran when he is old with gray hair. It is a little mean but it did make me giggle out loud, much to Neteyam’s dismay. That is probably what made him dislike me even more, other than the fact that I am constantly in competition with him for his sempul’s approval. I have four years until I become the same age as Nok. This means I have only three years if I want to break his record as the youngest in our clan to complete the ritual. He used to be a friend of mine who would include me in his friend group’s hang-out sessions. 
They never approved of me bringing Kiri and Lo’ak, they said they were too young. This made no sense to me because I was the same age as them. After a bit of an argument, I went home crying and made a vow to never hang out with them again. Kiri and Lo’ak are my best friends and I am not going to let some old people exclude them from things. They talk as though being young is a bad thing like we had a say for when we are born. 
My dad finishes his plate of food and moves to get mine and my mother’s, “You won’t be as good as them, you’ll be better yawntutsyip.”
This brings a bright smile to my face, I will prove my worth in this clan.
He’ll see, they all will.
42 notes · View notes
comehomeducklings · 11 months
Text
Insufferable Masterlist
Neteyam x Oc
Synopsis: After years of bitter rivalry and endless clashes, Neteyam and Ainai reluctantly work together on a high-stakes mission. As they navigate treacherous obstacles and unexpected dangers, they begin to discover surprising layers to each other's personalities. Slowly, the walls they've built around themselves start to crumble, giving way to an unexpected connection. Will they be able to put aside their past grievances and embrace their growing feelings, or will their shared history prove to be an insurmountable barrier?
⊲──✿──⊳
Chapter One: How it Started
Chapter Two: Coming soon
Chapter Three:
Etc.
⊲──✿──⊳
9 notes · View notes
comehomeducklings · 3 years
Text
Past [Part 6] (Obsession)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Tom Riddle's Moodboard
Main Characters Moodboard
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~
1940 - 3rd year
Footprints littered across the snowy plain. Bustling voices of excited squeals. Everything more vibrant and happy. No weight of impending exams to hold down our spirits.
I’m completely infatuated with the magic energy that bursts through every shop. It’s like the snow is charmed to never stop falling, a constant process of falling, melting, reforming, and melting again. Every snowflake that turns into water is suddenly replenished with new white fluff.
How I wish I had my camera on me. Dad would flip to see random items floating through the air. The Christmas lights dance with its wondrous glow. He’s never seen snow before he moved in with my mother. She took him on an adventure to see all the different snowy biomes. Blasting never-ending Christmas songs of joy. I can just imagine his millions of questions about the certain charms put onto bells and musical instruments to make them play themselves.
Even the constant snot running down my nose and sniffling can’t ruin my first experience of the village. I’ve had snow back home, but never like this. The cold breeze even contains the slightest hints of magical properties.
I have arrived here at Hogsmeade a bit later than everyone else. My duties back at the school taking up a lot of my time. Sacrifices must be made early on to be in the running for future Perfect, maybe even Head Girl one day. My friends already saved me a seat at the Three Broom Sticks. Which is our meeting place before we start heading to all the destinations Amelia planned for us. Each has their own copy of a perfectly written calligraphy to-do list. With an extra touch of stickers of butterflies and flowers littered across the parchment.
Getting here a bit late has granted me the pleasure to stand back and view all the different types of viewpoints. Everyone’s high energy states, in awe like I am. Their eyes each having a different opinion of the place before them. Some bored, most likely born into the magical properties hidden away from muggles.
I would trade anything to live in this moment again.
If you listen close enough, you can hear the slight ring of bells chiming. Violins pairing with the other instruments contributing to a marvelous piece of orchestra.
Now I have really arrived at the village. Charmed shovels are removing the snow on the walkways. Only just-fallen snowflakes have been left on the hard brick floors.
The cloudy sky creates a slight dark shadow across the buildings. The warm, orange lights and candles coming from the shops are all lit. The light poles with beautifully carved works of art in the iron are on even though it’s day. It truly adds the finishing touches to the comforting and welcoming atmosphere. I truly never want to leave this place.
As I make my way to the meeting place, I glance through the windows of some shops along the way. Their window displays live up to every-one of my expectations. Potions mixing themselves, wands hovering in the air. Beautiful owls and creatures alike, clothing waving their fashion all over the place. There’s even a place selling a bunch of bugs. Ranging from Billywigs to Vampyr Mosps. There isn’t much activity in there, except for this one student with extremely unkempt hair and bright pink glasses that could light up a dark stadium.
Personally, not a fan of the color pink. I’ll accept the occasional pastel though.
Moving on before anyone catches me spacing out and mistakes it as staring. I quickly Make a mental note of what to add to the to-do list. One shop caught my eye, it’s full of crystal balls and remembralls. Shiny gemstones also lay out on the windowsill.
I finally arrive at the Three Broom Sticks despite my habit of getting distracted by every little thing I come across. My hands wipe down the top of my head and scarf that gathered snow from being outside. Its wet moisture almost freeing within immediate contact of my fingers.
Once I enter the building the scent of firewhiskey, beer, and cinnamon topple all over my senses instantly. It’s extremely overwhelming and causes my nose to scrunch up in distaste. Besides the cinnamon, it smells like Christmas at home.
Devyn and Amelia start waving their hands. Amelia makes more of a show to catch my attention by standing on her chair and shouting, “Over here!” I shrink my face more into my scarf as I apologize to those around me for her shouting. I may be embarrassed sometimes, but I do love her bright personality. Makes things fun and entertaining.
“Finally! I’ve been trying my hardest to get Devyn to wait for you.”
Dev points her fingers at her defensively, “You’re the one bouncing on your heels ready to run off to Honeydukes before she got here!”
“Which is first on the list by the way,” She starts wrapping her scarf back around her neck. “Let’s get started!”
Devyn downs the rest of her drink, I try to convince myself that it’s not alcohol since she’s underage, as she hurriedly puts her mittens back on. How she even gets a hold of the drinks only brings a headache. I try to enjoy as much warmth as I can before leaving the safety of the heated building.
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~
“We definitely don’t have enough money for this,” I say, trying not to let anything fall out of my arms.
All of our holds are filled with stacks of different types of candy. A lot of boxes with multiple versions of itself. You could barely see Devyn’s head through the mountain of diabetes.
“Okay, how about we pick our favorite ones. Next time we buy the rest,” Amelia suggests.
We all plop down on the floor with the pile of goods. Storing through them from most to least wanted proves to be challenging for some of us. The other customers coming into the store try to step over or go around us. Yes, we did plop down in the middle of an aisle. We received a lot of annoyed glares for it too.
“You can’t buy all of that, Devyn. The point was to shorten the cost.”
“I did, look.”
We look down at her put-back pile and Amelia sighs loudly. Her “Put Back,” pile contains only two boxes of Chocolate Frogs and a box of CauldronCakes.
My own trouble comes from deciding between a bag of Pepper Imps and Wizochoc. I end up taking the Pepper Imps, I have enough chocolate in my “To Buy,” pile.
“We get it, you’re rich,” Amelia rolls her eyes and places down her items on the cashout counter. Devyn has this huge bag filled with sweets. She was the first to pay for her stuff.
“You should buy the store for us.”
Amelia finishes up and picks up her bag, “I second that.”
I eventually buy all of my candy and head out.
“These might be my favorite so far,” I pop another Pepper Imp into my mouth.
The others grab some from the jar. They also seem to enjoy them as they go to grab more.
“Oh,” I turn around and look up at the victim I accidentally bumped into. “My bad.”
The man just continues on towards his destination not sparing a single glance back. My curiosity only rises as he walks down steps to the places where most avoid visiting in Hogsmeade.
“That was rude, you okay love?” Devyn places her arm around my shoulder.
“Yeah, I was just worried if I hurt the guy.”
Amelia takes out our to-do list, “Next up is the broom shop.”
We make our way towards the store, trying to avoid the snowballs being thrown all over the place. Which must have had to hit one of the chaperons. Probably resulting in a trip back to Hogwarts.
~Brooms & Things~
If Dev was a shop, she would embody this one perfectly. Quidditch collectibles of the rarest kind can be found here.
We all duck quickly as a bludger zooms directly towards us. It keeps making sharp turns like it’s trying to catch something.
“Woah, this broom is signed by my cousin's favorite quidditch player,” Devyn runs her hand along the wooden part of the broom.
She hates her cousin.
Mutual, really.
“And this snitch won the world cup in 1477!”
Oh no, we’re definitely going to be here for a while. I do like the information she spews out about her livelihood. She really lives and breathes Quidditch. With the occasional side of baking.
“That’s correct madam. The only one of its kind of course. I suppose all snitches are.”
“Do you have one from 1473?”
“The very first tournament?”
I look over the counter to see where the voice is coming from.
“Up here pretty lady.”
My gaze wanders upwards and I come across an old looking elf dusting a chandelier while sitting on it. They have a white mustache like the guy from KFC. A few strands of hair left on the, soon to be, bald head. Those white hairs are really hanging on for dear life. The elf’s feet swing quite wildly seeing that pieces seem to fall down from the chandelier.
“Why hello there, watch your heads,” the elf jumps down. “My name is Shade.”
He heads towards a room in the back, “It seems I do have that snitch miss…”
“Devyn.”
“Miss Devyn.”
“How much for it?”
“How much do you have?”
“How much do you need?” I interject
Shade peeks his head from the corner and squints his eyes at me.
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~
“This is the coolest thing I own,” Devyn throws the snitch up then catches it with the same hand.
Amelia lightly touches a clip in her hair, “This is mine.”
The clip has one full light pink/beige flower in the middle. Petals of similar color run along the rest of the clip like a vine. Swirls like the wind sprout out of the petals. Which are littered with tiny diamonds that glitter in any type of light.
The hair clip really adorns her hair.
No special objects for me. Nothing meaningful enough physically. My form of something special lies within memories. That’s what I hold dearest.
Without any memories, I wouldn’t be anybody. Just an empty shell of a person waiting for the next moment where I can wake up.
“Can we visit this one shop I saw on the way to our meeting place?”
They both shrug their shoulders and nod. I led the way to that one crystal shop. It comes into view. When we enter, a little chime is triggered.
“Hi, um, is anyone here?” silence follows after my question. I contemplate whether we should come back another time.
It wouldn’t hurt to look around for a bit. Memorizing rocks lay anywhere you look. There are hanging shelves filled with growing ones. The walls are filled with vines, the shelves with moss. Empty potion bottles, even one that's slightly cracked, the other shattered. Midnight blue, bubblegum pink, blood red, and snowy white are only a pinch of the amount of color variety.
“You’re supposed to have this.”
My head jolts behind me, trying to find the source of the voice.
“Here,” something whispers in my ear. “Free of charge.”
I feel something cold be placed around my neck, a skull of sorts hangs from the chain. The eye sockets of the skull have been filled with a gemstone. It's coloring red-orange. Like a young, newly made fire. The shape is round, smooth at the edges.
“Thank y-” when I turn back around, no one is there.
I hold the skull that's hanging around my neck, “Do any of you see a book that explains what types of stones are which?”
Hopefully with pictures.
Devyn holds up a book in the air, ‘Right here.”
“Thanks,” I open up the book and flip through the many pages it holds within the covers. Which thankfully, contains many pictures, with multiple angles, of every gemstone.
All in alphabetical order, it takes a bit until I finally find something similar to the one that is embedded into my necklace. The rock is a type of Opal. It was often believed when the person wearing the gem passed away, it would lose its color entirely.
Assorted with death, or great luck
Let’s hope it’s luck.
“Try not to break anything.”
“I think the owner is out today.”
The book is placed back where it came from. It was quite dusty, probably sitting there for quite a while.
“Let’s get going, we have to head back to school soon.”
Right before leaving I touch my necklace. I have a feeling I won’t be back here for some time.
The icy cold air going right through my coat and gloves like they weren’t ever worn in the first place. What’s the point wearing them if they won’t do their job?
“Hey?” I squint closely at the people arriving from the steps that lead to the darkest places of Hogsmeade. “Is that Rid-”
“These are so pretty!” Amelia rushes towards a shop’s window. She presses her whole cheek to get a better look at the flowers.
She pushes us hurriedly indoors and sets out to smell every single flower in existence. The shop’s name is in french. At least, I think it is.
“Amelia is everything in french?”
“Yep,” her voice travels from far across the room.
Devyn is by my side looking at the available selections.
“These combinations are gorgeous.”
The ones in question are really,
Well,
Crispy.
“I mean, they’re something aren’t they,” I force a smile.
As I say that a petal falls from the bouquet of flowers. It crumbles a bit on impact with the dark wooden floors. When we moved on to the next section, I couldn’t even think straight. The amount of smells coming from the plants must be cutting down the number of years in my life.
“I already have a headache.”
“Me too, let’s find Amelia.”
When quickly browsing the aisles for our hyper friend, I find her sniffing every single arrangement of flowers on the shelves.
“Amelia love, you’re going to pick up allergies sniffing so close like that,” I pull her head that was submerged into the bundles of twigs and thorns.
“Worth it.”
“Hold on, is that-”
It was in fact, Myrtle. This is the most normal-looking version of her I have seen as of yet. Usually, you could hear her voice coming from a mile away. Always quite the energetic personality, even in the very early mornings.
She’s not annoying, no. There can be times where I roll my eyes. That doesn’t mean I am mean. I’m a nice person I swear, who just gets irritated sometimes.
“This just keeps getting worse,” Devyn says.
“She’s going to confess to someone!”
“What makes you say that?” I look closely at Myrtle, she does seem more carefree.
Amelia points her finger, “The color of the flowers and its type of arrangement.”
“I think you’re right,” Devyn holds onto my shoulders. “She’s putting a hand written card inside it.”
I guess she decided to confess the old-fashioned route, more romantic in my opinion. Didn’t realize she was the romance type, or the handwritten letters type.
“Anyways, I picked what I want,” Amelia places her bouquet on the cashier’s counter. “You guys done?”
“Yeah,” we say simultaneously.
We make our way outside in the cold once again. It’s close to night and the temperature drops are more noticeable. The snow stopped falling, the shovels held off on shoveling. Whatever leftover snow from a bit ago will stay on the ground till it melts.
“Not to be nosy, but I want to know who Myrtle is handing the love note to.”
Amelia and I nod in agreement. The lady in question is just a bit ahead of the sidewalk than we are. Humming a song that hasn’t registered it’s name in my mind.
For now, the trip back home is going to be dreadfully long.
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~
Taglist:
@empath-bunny
@jinxqsu
48 notes · View notes
comehomeducklings · 3 years
Text
Past [Part 5] (Obsession)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Tom Riddle's Moodboard
Main Characters Moodboard
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~
1940 - 3rd year
“Break, please, just let me catch my breath.”
He sends another spell towards my legs and I fall with a thud. I stay on the ground with an arm over my eyes. My head is pounding from the constant training we’ve been doing for hours.
“There won't be any break when someone wants to severely hurt you.”
I sat up from my dead weight position, “Do you want to hurt me?”
He ignores my question and drinks some water from a fountain that the Room of Requirement provided.
“That’s the only way for you to learn.”
“I’ve learned nothing from these sessions,” I huff. “All you do is go really hard and never correct me on anything.”
“Get into position.”
I pushed down my temper and raised my wand.
“You already know how to do that,” he continues. “Now cast a spell and then another one right after that.”
My wand slightly vibrates from the magic shooting out of it. The second spell comes easily and follows shortly after the first. Its magical properties lashing out like a whip.
“And that. You don’t need to learn anything yet.” He walks towards me and pushes my arm up slightly.
“Right now, it’s about letting you improve by doing it over and over again.”
Tom makes his way towards the other side of the room and lifts his wand, “Again.”
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~
My fork scrapes the plate while I stab my food continuously. My cheek leans against my right hand.
“Stop taking your frustration out on the food and eat it,” Devyn mumbles.
Amelia takes my plate and scrapes out some of the food that it holds, “I’ll eat some to make it easier.”
“I can’t feel my arm.”
“Eat your dinner and sleep it off. Our first Hogsmeade trip of the season is tomorrow,” Devyn says.
“Oh, are they canceling your practice?” I question.
“Yep. We have the weekend off.”
“So we all get to go!” Amelia celebrates. “I don’t have to go alone.”
“I was going to cancel my tutoring sessions with the first years anyways.”
“You tutor them too much, you almost got behind in your studies because of it,” she responds.
“You know I can’t say no, I would feel too bad.”
“You’re too easily swayed,” Devyn laughs. She brings a napkin and rubs it roughly over her mouth. Amelia and I are also close to being finished eating. We don’t have anything else to do tonight, homework being suspended for the trip.
The group leaves the great hall and enters the corridors. Everything is barely visible due to the low lighting the night brings.
“I’m going to head to the bathroom real quick,” I informed. “I’ll meet you guys back up in the dorm.”
They nod and start their way up the stairs. I must have eaten something bad because I feel nauseous. My lightheadedness causes my vision to blur slightly.
It could possibly stem from the fumes of the plants we were dealing with earlier today. Although, that doesn’t seem very likely since this is happening hours later.
I finally stumble into the bathroom and grip onto the sink. The foggy mirrors reflecting the candlelight. My stomach churns uncomfortably. The very liquids and remains of the food consumed from dinner turning.
I incline my head downwards towards the whites of the bleached sink. Trying to encourage my body to throw up to get this nausea over with.
My vision suddenly has a black vignette around the sides. The rest blurring what I see to only a spot of sharp focus. When I look back into my eyes in the mirror I start fading away. Like my consciousness is leaving my body.
~
Vines start to entrap my arms to the ground. The sky swarms with different shades of gray. Brown, dried up, leaves scraping my skin harshly. The sharp twigs from the branch act as needles, breaking through the first layer of skin. Not hard enough to draw blood, yet. Its hold on my arms increases the more I try to move. Like it’s trying to make me a part of the ground itself.
An earthy scent fills my nostrils, informing me about the rain that will soon transpire.
My panic seems to only elevate as I hear voices all around me. Some laugh, one gravely serious and holds much power. The authority laced in venom seemed to sound familiar.
I soon start to feel it, a small snake slithering up my leg. I seem to still have my skirt from the usual Hogwarts uniform. My leg slightly shakes, trying to leech off the creature. Its tail slightly tickles as it continuously brushes my skin. The snake suddenly sneaks off and I’m pulled to my feet. Not exactly on the ground, just a couple of inches hovering above the dirt.
“What a nice little show you prepared for us.”
One of them says, not exactly clear enough for me to focus on. I can’t seem to exactly remember how I got here.
One branch raises my arm, then drops it, then repeats those actions on the other side. Soon two more branches grab one of each of my legs. I’m soon being used to walk in place, dance, and twirl.
I’m being used, like a puppet.
When I try to make out the person responsible for the tree controlling my actions. The only thing visible is a Slytherin scarf, and intense eyes as black as a midnight sky.
~
I jolt back into my mind. In the exact same spot in the bathroom. Nauseousness and any sign of blurring in my line of sight vanished. Gone like it never was a problem. The only effect left in place was a mild headache.
I throw cold water into my eyes to stop the burning. Then hurry my way up to my dorm room. Having been shaken by the events that seemed so real.
Upon arrival, I quickly greeted everyone who was gathered outside their bed chambers. After, I shove open the door to my friends and I’s room. They're already playing a muggle game called “Monopoly.”
“Finally you’re here. You be the boot.”
A metallic, cold piece is placed into the beginning spot on the board. Any remembrance of the scene back in the bathroom lost in the sea of forgotten thoughts.
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~
“Can I buy this house?”
“No.”
“What about this one?” I point to another card.
“Not enough money.”
“Well then what’s the cheapest house?”
Amelia holds out a card. I look at the price.
“Can I buy this one?”
Amelia just shakes her head no. Devyn erupts in laughter, leaning too far back and falling on the floor because of it. She can barely breathe as she gasps in short breaths.
“Amelia, I'm bankrupt! I can’t do anything,” I yell.
Devyn just continues to laugh at my frustration. We are a couple of games in and every time I have lost. Ending up in jail, bankrupt 3 times, and failing as a parent.
“It’s not my fault you’re bad at the game,” Amelia gathers my money and piece from the board. While she cleans up my failure I throw a pillow at Devyn. She gasps and hurries to grab her own fluffy weapon.
“Take one step on my territory and its war,” she says as her feet climb her onto the bed. Elevating her height to seem like the superior kingdom.
I take two steps forward while keeping the pillow ready for an attack, “I may be bad at Monopoly, but not at this.”
Suddenly there’s an airstrike from above. A sudden war cry comes from Devyn’s mouth. Amelia pushes the box for the board game under her bed and joins up in our new game.
The night filled with screams of laughter. Smiles and feathers, shushes from other students in the same dormitory.
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~
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comehomeducklings · 3 years
Text
Present [Part 4] (Obsession)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Tom Riddle's Moodboard
Main Character's Moodboard
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~
1943 ~ 6th year
“What would be the purpose of a wizard or witch to prepare a Polyjuice potion?” Slughorn asks. “Yes, Mr. Riddle?”
Tom drops his hand from the air, “The potion grants the drinker to take the form of another.”
“Yes! And what would happen if said drinker tried to transform into an animal?”
I know this one so I lift my hand.
“Go ahead.”
I clear my throat, “When the human drinker tries to transform into an animal they would not take its complete form. Only sections of said animal.”
Slughorn nods his head, “Can they reverse after a bit of time like normally?”
“No,” I answered. “It takes an extremely long time to wear off, and you might even have to go to the hospital wing.”
He grins and continues to write on the chalkboard. Even though he can enchant the writer's tool to note down itself, I’m guessing he prefers the old-fashioned way.
Tom and I are even on points. When he answers correctly, I also do right after him. I can see him noting down both our points on the corner of his parchment. The black tally marks standing out. Our points are on my paper as well, just in case he decides to cheat. No chances are being taken today, or tomorrow.
“How long does the potion wear off if made correctly?”
Riddle and I both shoot our hands up. His demeanor is calm and collected while I'm sitting on my feet to have my arm raised higher than his. It’s not very fair that his arms are the length of mine to the third power.
“Mr. Nott, what do you know?”
“A single dose could last from 10 minutes to 12 hours.”
Another question wasted by not getting called on. I don’t mind that much since it doesn't keep me behind. Riddle seems to care a little bit too much. His competitive side is showing and I guess his pal is ruining the race.
Professor stole our textbooks for this pop quiz. The rapid-fire questions should “already be memorized and known,” down to the molecular detail. My knowledge only goes so far.
I trust myself, to a point. There’s definitely going to be a question I get wrong and I’m already dreading it. Every answer that falls out of my mouth is examined and thought over ten times before the action of answering arises.
“For something a little different, Mr. Riddle come to the front of the classroom and write four ingredients that are needed for the potion.”
He stands up and pushes his chair in. His eyes as cold as The Black Lake. While he makes his way toward the board I cross my fingers, hoping he forgets one. I know that’s not the kindest, but nothing with him is necessarily “kind.”
There he goes, writing all four ingredients with ease. His handwriting is beautiful. How does he honestly do that? Does he practice every single day to get it that precise?
Maybe I should practice to improve as well. Honestly embarrassing how bad my handwriting seems next to his. We compared essays once, never again. That was the most embarrassing moment of my life. He just laughed at me and kept pointing out how weird my f’s looked.
I swear my letters weren’t that bad. It’s just that he overachieves everything. Now I rewrite every “f” letter that appears on my homework. Thank you for the new insecurity, Riddle.
“Very good! Very good, your turn,” he points towards me. “Three more ingredients this time.”
While I stand in front of the board, I check out what he has already put down. Lacewig flies, leeches, okay not bad. Knotgrass and the hair of the person the drinker will transform into.
He numbered them so I continued on from that.
5) Boomslang skin
6) Fluxweed
Last one, let's see. We already put Lacewig flies, Knotgrass, hair, the skin, and Fluxweed. I hesitate for a little bit, my brain working at high speed. Anxiety levels are higher than Mount Everest.
7) Powdered Bicorn Horn
There we go, I smile to myself proudly. When I turn back around my eyes meet his. He smirks and nods while he writes down a point for both of us. I’m not sure that it counts for four points, just one.
The questions go on for quite a bit. Our tally marks are piling higher and higher. Each of our count's neck and neck for the top spot.
“What is the brewing time?”
“About a month.”
“How does the potion look before the addition of the final ingredient?”
“Thick like the mud after it pours.”
“It also is bubbling.”
“How does it look after adding the final ingredient?”
“Depends on who the witch or wizard made the potion to look like.”
“Varies in taste and color.”
He seems to be done with questions so Tom and I start counting the marks. On my paper, I seem to be .5 points ahead of him. I quickly look his way to see him come to the same conclusion. He takes a deep breath and casts his eyes to the side. Tom then tilts his quill my way signaling that I did indeed win.
I’m about to squeal quite highly but then I recollect I’m in a classroom. Full of people who are terrified to be anywhere in this castle. That would be quite inappropriate of me so I keep my excitement to myself.
Professor Slughorn wipes the whole board away. Clearing all the information we were learning and reviewing about.
“When I pair you up, each of you will grab the right ingredients for this potion and lay it near the front of your desk,” he says. “It should be laid in the order you would normally use when making the concoction.”
“First up, Miss Horn and Miss Yellowbo.”
The classroom starts to move with life as students pair with one another. Some cheerful noises and annoyed ones from who they ended up with. Most of us here know each other. I don’t think I would mind having anyone in this room as my partner.
“Mr. Riddle and-”
Of course, it’s me. Starting to think the pairings’ on purpose. His face shines too brightly for it not to be well planned out. I make my way to the shelves to start out picking the ingredients.
There’s always a moment where my mind decides to give up on me. Most of the elements are obtained. A few are missing.
I’m going over the variety of bottles containing different substances when I feel a looming pressure on my back. An arm slightly grazes past my ear and picks up Fluxweed.
“How do you manage to forget the very ingredient you wrote down on the board?” Toms whispers right by my ear.
I shift my eyesight to the side to see him already looking at me, “Sorry, I blanked out a little.”
He starts seizing half of the ingredients into his hold. I don’t really mind carrying a couple, but I’m just left with one bottle after he takes most of my possessions.
“Taking all the credit now I see,” I tilt my head as I raise my chin to meet his tall build.
“You were about to spill everything. I’m saving you from embarrassment,” he responds cockily.
I started to argue but he already made his way back to the desk, “Everything was perfectly stable in my arms.”
He continues to ignore me and sets down everything. Including the one bottled ingredient in my hand that he snatched just a few moments ago.
“Nothing is ever perfectly stable with you.”
I’m about to whisper a word no children should hear before Slughorn makes his way to our table. Saving Riddle from my rising annoyance.
“Wonderful! You too got all of them perfectly,” he starts. “I would expect no less from my star students.”
All I do is smile brightly in respect. Trying not to drive any more attention to the outburst of pride he has for us.
“Thank you, professor,” Tom says. He starts picking the ingredients off of the table, still barely letting me take any.
Riddle just walks off while our proffesor continues around the room. When he comes back I just about finish wiping the desk of any accidental spills.
“I won our little game this time,” I nudged his shoulder with my own.
Tom slightly rolls his eyes with a small smile, “I see that you have. Just this one though.”
“And many more to come,” I exclaim.
Our attention seeks back to our teacher, “You’ll all be writing an essay about an imaginary way this potion could go wrong. I expect it to be turned in before class tomorrow.”
I hurry to get my textbook off of my area and head towards the back of the classroom near the doorway.
“Everyone split into two groups. This half will go with Riddle while the other is with me.”
I turn my head once more to look at Tom, he’s reassuring one of the students that they are going to be okay.
I only look for a couple of seconds before leading my half of the group out first. A few stops along the way to make sure perfects are keeping order. Most of my group of students have been dropped off. A couple still lures behind me, I picked them up as I worked my way through the castle halls.
They were also dropped off and now I scatter along the hallway to make sure everyone is where they are supposed to be. Like every other period, the routine stays the same mostly.
My robes have a few wet spots on them still from the tears of younger students attending this school. I fully believe it won’t be too long until the headmaster and the ministry deal with whoever is making our lives miserable here. The murders will surely not go unjustly.
As I am turning a new hallway I happen to meet up with Riddle.
“All good?”
“Of course,” he responds. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”
He seems to look around quite a bit. Like he’s searching for something.
“Head back to your class, I will look around once more.”
That’s the last thing he says before moving around me with his hand on my shoulder. Quickly slipping past me.
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~
“No, no no,” I whisper to myself as I crumple yet another paper in my hand. I throw it on the ground next to me and huff out a breath.
Writing this bloody essay is taking more time than I predicted. It usually comes naturally to me but I can’t seem to write correctly. Every time I make a mistake I have to start over again. My handwriting failing to write neatly for once.
My whole structure and information is already figured out. Writing is what’s taking me the longest. No matter how hard I try, the letters never seem to come out correctly from my quill.
Especially the f’s.
F
f
Infuriating really. I only have an hour left until the library closes. It already technically shut down but the librarian gave me an extra three hours as long as I lock up.
Perks of being Head Girl I suppose.
My head is in my hands as I compose myself. It’s late and I’m tired, it’s not even safe to be out at this time. At least if I happen to die I wouldn’t have to write this essay.
“How long have you been trying at this-” a low voice asks behind me.
I jump in my seat, “Oh it’s just you. Well, it’s been-”
“And failing?” Tom finishes as he takes the seat next to me. The chair turned slightly to me.
I roll my eyes and fall further back into my seat. My head turned upwards, admiring the flying books in the ceiling. Finding their place, their way home.
“Probably an hour and a half,” I sigh. “You’re completely right about how bad my calligraphy is.”
He just nods his head and takes a fresh new sheet from the middle of the table. His quill magically appears from inside his robe. All the papers that have the plans for my essay start to float around his head and workspace. Occasionally glancing up at them from time to time and then going back to writing.
His lips are pursed in concentration, “I write my F’s like this. It’s easier that way and extremely easy to practice and write quickly.”
My head peers over his shoulder as I watch him effortlessly indite.
“You try,” he opens up my fingers that were closing my hand and places a quill in them.
I furrow my eyebrows and start to practice my letters on a separate piece of paper that I originally scrapped. I don’t want to waste paper and there’s no reason to get a fresh new one.
We both work quietly in the night until the last few minutes of opening time. Before I left the room I saw him quickly go far back into the library. I never got to ask him why he arrived here so late.
Never saw the need to.
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~ Taglist:
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comehomeducklings · 3 years
Text
Past [Part 3] (Obsession)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Tom Riddle's Moodboard
Main Character's Moodboard
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~
1940 - 3rd year
There’s no chance of getting out of this. Our mentor must be out of their mind. No smooth sailing this period, not for me. Nothing at all has prepared me for this point in time.
My heartbeat rises by the second. At the brink of jumping out of my chest. I constantly try to reassure myself as I prepare. Forcing the illusion that I have everything together.
I most definitely don’t have anything, not a crumb, together.
My hands sweat with anticipation, my wand almost slipping off multiple times. The magical stick even wants to run away from this situation. I’ll start running with it soon enough.
The whole room is quiet in expectation. The tension levels in this area are too high for me to even start to comprehend. All I can hear is the sounds of my breathing and the occasional ruffle of robes. The high regard these people hold for me isn’t doing me any favors. I’m about to ruin any confidence anyone holds in my skills.
My friends are holding their thumbs up for encouragement. It does little to calm my panic, but I appreciate the effort anyway. Other acquaintances from the same house nodded their heads in an attempt to console my emotions.
Before the teacher signals to start, he gives us a bit to come up with a plan. Ten seconds at most. Now, this isn’t something possible to win. Not against him, no. My only goal here is to last as long as I can and don’t mess up.
Act smart, seem like you know more than you do.
He looks as easy-going as ever. This may seem like a walk in the gardens to him. No “threat” whatsoever to make him feel uneasy. I’m quite irritated at the thought of being anything but a challenge. He may be a little right, but that doesn’t help my ego.
Easy, I’m nothing easy.
Riddle might be stronger at this, but that doesn’t mean I'm complete garbage. I can hold my own, I will hold my own.
My breathing patterns change into more of a deep inhale and exhale. Focusing on completely dropping my heart rate and keeping my thoughts intact. Madam Rose, the school nurse, hates seeing me walk in there. Frequent visits from dealing with plants has her hair getting pulled out. I don’t think Miss Rose would be too keen on me passing out from the lack of oxygen.
“Only stick with the one basic spell of force. For both offensive and defensive tactics.”
Riddle’s atmosphere surrounding him is focused, deadly. He hasn’t moved his gaze from my lips. Probably on guard for whenever I cast something. I’m slightly unsteady on my feet from nerves. It’s almost suffocating being under all these watchful eyes.
A snake takes their time to strike. They examine all angles where you may be weak. Testing the vulnerability of your actions and thinking process. A few testing snaps of their mouth can tell them how the fight will go. They are well-balanced and focused, masters of intimidation.
Breathing.
Oxygen informs the snake how much you’re able to hold on for. The more you intake, the tighter it gets. Restricting the amount of oxygen the prey respires. Until they are physically unable to anymore, slowly weakening. The fight they were presenting lessens to almost non-distinguishable. The prey’s struggling to get free, dying down. Then it passes away, openly given to the snake without any more thought. A mere temporary meal in its eyes.
“Begin.”
Our eye contact is steady, neither of us moving an inch. Our mouths are closed shut, wands at the ready. I slightly squint my eyes while I focus. If he’s waiting for me to go first he is out of luck. I’m not budging, we will stay in the same position until next period if we have to.
Riddle also slightly squints his eyes. His hand doesn’t shake even if his wand was out in the air for a long time. The arm he holds out is steady and unmoving. Nothing triggers my attention since his movements are of little importance. I search his eyes for any life, no emotion is found swirling in those charcoal black eyes. Absolutely brilliant and fierce when focused or aggravated. The class starts getting rowdy, finally allowed to talk since Riddle just made the first move.
There’s only one spell I need to remember, that makes it a little easier to think of ways to find my opening. I quickly revert the spell away from me and send it right back. A tennis match is played between that one spell. Tom huffs and sends his enchantment straight towards the ground. It bursts into tiny magical specks of green. During that time I sent a spell his way.
After a while, I start to notice right before he casts a spell he moves his mouth like he inhales to take a breath. I’ve noticed him do it quite often. Since he casts fairly quickly there wasn’t much to go off of. Not much to use to my advantage. When he “inhales” he’s most of the time not actually breathing in air. It’s just a simple movement he does. It might be because of his accent, the way he learned to talk. Quite a small little quirk of the lips.
To start testing out this theory I centered most of my attention on his mouth. Waiting to see if my theory was reliable enough to depend on. He’s starting to gain more offensive attacks on me. Most of my spells undecidedly move more defensive by the minute.
Right before he mutters the words, I send a spell of my own. The magic aiming for his knees. Before he could defend himself from that one I prepared another offensive conjuration to his wand. He forwarded an incantation my way and I hurriedly obviated the sorcery as it was also heading to my stifle joint. Some of the force still slightly makes contact with my left knee. My balance is suddenly thrown off.
As I scramble to catch my footing, Riddle with point accuracy parries my wand attack. Then diverts my knee attack towards my right knee. Since I was focused on stabilizing my posture I didn’t notice the spell approaching my other knee
Forthcoming my inevitable demise.
I end up planting both hands on the ground. My knees falling one after the other from the pressure.
Our audience starts yelling complaints and praise. Calls for a rematch and cheats. My loss was bound to happen, but I did get to do that three combo. Two offensive and one defensive, all in the span of 5 seconds. Not too bad if I say so myself.
“Mr. Riddle wins this duel. Excellent job to the both of you. A very good strategy was well thought out for each side.”
I make my way down the steps on my platform’s side. Immediately being greeted by hugs and pats on the back.
At least my feet didn’t get tied together from restlessness causing me to fall and he wins the duel immediately. I would have dropped out right then and there from embarrassment.
There’s barely any feedback for Riddle, his little posse praising him like a king. People either saw no fault in him or were too frightened to actually comment on it publicly.
For me, that’s another case. Quite a bit of suggestions are offered, keep my form ready and my attention on more than one thing. Any and all advice is welcomed. Who knows how it can help me one day.
Amelia hugs my side with the biggest grin on her face, “You did so well! I think he actually had to work a little for that win.”
Everyone is dismissed and we head our way to Herbology. Tom’s face looks as if he’s already forgotten about the duel. His body language remains tranquil as ever.
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~
Bubotuber pus, one of the grossest things I’ve had the misfortune of learning at home. Now I have to live through it again? How can one endure harvesting the essence?
“All of you are required to wear gloves for today’s class. Does anyone know what effects you would have when touching this substance with your bare skin?”
Quite a number of students raise their hands. I’m guessing they did research on why they needed to buy these gloves when handed the school procurement catalog.
Exactly what I did, curiosity might actually kill the cat.
“Yes, you sweet girl,” she picks, “What’s your name?”
“Merlene,” the student answers, “If you touch this without protection then extremely painful boils will appear in its stead.”
“Correct! 5 points to Hufflepuff,” she claps.
My fingers already lay inside the dragon-hide gloves. Its rough texture rubs against the calluses from dealing with the harsh stems of different plants.
This substance is usually processed to be used for acne treatments. Only touched in its weakened state. Oddly satisfying to some, I am not a part of that group of people
“This is disgusting,” I say as I harvest the pus. My gagging reflexes acting up every time the plant gets squeezed.
A few students chuckle at my remark. They seem to be having a good time, weirdly focused on this substance. It smells of petrol, not a big fan of the scent. Reminds me of the sketchy gas stations my parents and I would take on family road trips.
Its thick goo is finally contained in bottles. Relief washes over me from finishing the collecting process. My gloves are removed and I do a quick spell to clean my area. Nothing really fell on it so it didn’t need scrubbing beforehand.
Amelia seems to just be finishing her plant. A lot of goo splashed all over her table. Luckily it doesn’t seem like any of that touched anyone’s face or uncovered arms.
“I’m just about done, can you help with cleaning please?” Amelia starts collecting all of her bottles into her arms. None of the glass vials touched in green gunk.
“Yeah, I got you, turn those in to the professor.” I immediately started helping her out. In that process, I also cleaned other’s messes too. Why not, there is still time to waste until we can all leave. Cleaning products smell better than whatever chemicals intoxicate the air.
“Pop quiz, shout out the answers. Why not use spells instead of treated bubotuber pus for treatments?”
Easy question, I whisper the answer in Amelia’s ear when she comes back from turning in the assignment so she can shout it.
“Using spells proves to be too risky, like the Eloise Midgen incident,” she answers.
Good, she remembers Eloise's event.
“Yeah, she cursed her nose off, poofed from existence,” a girl from Hufflepuff adds.
“Precisely, everyone has permission to leave now,” the professor exclaims, “don’t head out without cleaning or I’ll reduct points. Last time a student got boils all over their hand from an improperly cleaned station.”
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~
“It actually went decently. Nothing blew up, surprisingly.”
At lunch, we are all talking about our first three classes. Potions being our first topic.
“Thought as much, I saw your stupid grin. You looked like you just won the wizarding lottery,” I say with my mouth stuffed with food. Hoping they could understand me between my chews.
“Both of you, slow down. The food ain’t going anywhere damn,” Devyn laughs.
Amelia and I pause, we look at each other, then at Devyn, then back to us. After a silent halt in our actions, we continue to shove down a bunch of food.
“I noticed you kept gagging at the pus. You looked queasy, your face was so pale.”
I audibly shiver at the recollection of said class. My eyes were watering so bad there. That stuff would never stop coming.
“I’m eating, stop mentioning that nasty stuff,” Amelia starts shaking her head. If only I could see the thoughts forcefully being shaken out of her head.
“You should have seen her station. That stuff was everywhere. How bad is your aim, the opening to the bottle wasn’t that small?”
“It wasn’t even that!” she drops her fork, “I squeezed that bloody plant too hard and it squirted everywhere!”
“Poor choice of words,” Devyn snickers. All she gets is a shove from me.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, she’s clearly traumatized.”
Devyn shoves me back, “You’re clearly traumatized from the duel. The one you failed at, the one-”
“I’m aware of the duel you’re talking about,” I interrupt, “I bet you wouldn’t have lasted as long as I did.”
“Oh please, you’re just salty about losing.”
I roll my eyes and subconsciously scan the room for him. There he is, mysteriously talking to his group of buddies. After a little bit, he catches onto my staring. He briefly looked around him to see if I was looking at something else. Finally, he comes to the realization it was in fact him I was blessing with my attention.
During this, he was talking to his friend next to him. He stopped his conversation to completely give me his attention. The guy he was just talking to engaged in another conversation quickly.
The moment was interrupted with hands waving in front of my face, “You gonna eat that?”
“Nah I’m full, go ahead.”
Riddle continued on with his food. Never looking my way again.
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~
“Hey, uh, Riddle you have a second?”
I stop him by tapping his shoulder a couple of times. His height already makes mountains seem molecular.
He furrowed his eyebrows and glances at the shoulder I just touched. Making it a scene to dust that part off, what an ass.
“No, I really don’t have a second,” he responds.
“Well that, really, sucks for you huh. Can you teach me techniques for dueling?”
“No,” he starts to turn away.
“Please, you will get one favor from me. Whatever you need.”
Tom turns back around, “Anything? Does that favor expire?”
I shake my head no. If he plans to wait a long time he’ll probably forget about it. He seems to be deep in thought for a bit. No rush really since we're on our break. If he agrees I could get ahead of so many competitors.
“Fine, every Friday afternoon starting tomorrow in the Room of Requirement.”
He immediately strides away while I stare back in shock. My brain didn’t expect him to actually accept. Getting this far wasn’t a very possible outcome.
Now I just have to find out where the Room of Requirement is located.
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~
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comehomeducklings · 3 years
Text
He looked so good in this movie
Beard Dylan > life itself
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comehomeducklings · 3 years
Text
Past [Part 2] (Obsession)
A/N: Some chapters will be named with either “Past,” “Present,” or “Future,” then their numbered part coming right after it. This is to confuse you less when flashbacks or anything happens. As you have probably noticed, it says “Past” for Part 2. This is going back near when Tom and her just met. Thank you for reading! <3
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Tom Riddle's Moodboard
Main Character's Moodboard
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~
1940 - 3rd year
“Potions is not that bad, I swear. You just have to be good at measuring.”
At the table, my friends and I are discussing our classes this year. Potions being one of my favorite topics. Devyn absolutely loathes that certain class. We have to drag her there to make sure she doesn’t skip. Poor girl tries her best to not mess up but the cauldron always ends up blowing up. I even watched her do every step once, never missing a beat. The potion still ended up failing, even though she did everything correctly. She gave up after a while, who wouldn’t. I help her do extra assignments for extra credit to keep her grade up. She also studies with me to make sure she can memorize everything and pass her tests. Amelia is pretty good at the class, she’s luckily paired with Devyn most of the time. Carrying the potion to success, with a little bit of my secret help. It’s not cheating, it’s using your resources.
I’m resources.
“Potions is not that bad,” Devyn mocks me. “If it weren’t for you two I would have gone insane in that stupid class.”
Amelia just laughs at her while eating her hash browns on the plate. She reaches her hand out to take some more eggs.
“You were able to do it before. Not the way you were supposed to, but it worked,” Amelia says.
“Exactly, just start doing it your way at this point. I don’t think Slughorn will care how it’s done, just how it comes out.”
Devyn nods her head and points at me with a fork. Her mouth full of food so she settles for that response. My plate doesn’t have much other than some bacon and fruit. I’m not usually a breakfast eater. I get my appetite at lunch and dinner time. It’s just too early for a bunch of food smells, the smells make me kind of nauseous. I’ll eat though, enough to hold me off till lunch.
The chatter in the lunchroom rises by the minute. Everyone refilling themselves before their busy day. All energy levels rising while everyone wakes up from their groggy morning mood. While my friends finish eating we continue to talk about our classes and share the schedules for this year. Most classes we had were the same except for our electives. I tried taking as many electives as possible. My family back home never really did magic. I actually came a year and a half late since my family wanted me to have a normal school experience. I learned to do everything without the use of magic, the only thing my mom taught me was the floo network, creatures, and plants. I would often accompany her to Diagon Alley when she shops. I got an Owl for my 10th birthday. A cat would have been amazing if I wasn’t allergic to it. My owl is a brown and white-furred barn owl. Don’t ask me why I named it Bartholomew. I was ten okay, give me a break. Speaking of the floo network, my mom had to chase me through it quite often because I kept teleporting everywhere. I once ran into the Ministry of Magic’s building and got lost. They had to take me home to my parents. Their faces told me everything I needed to know about the punishment waiting for me.
Halfway through the second year is when I came to Hogwarts, a second letter coming that year asking my parents to let me learn more there. So when they finally let me attend, everything was pretty new to me. My mother was the magic one in the family. Her grandmother, my great-grandmother, before her had the magic gene. Going to school was the same experience as going from a muggle-borns perspective. The difference is, I knew more about its existence. I would look at yearbooks my mom had from when she went here. She earned a lot of titles, all the achievements being recorded down. I always wondered why she never wanted me to come here. Did something happen to me, to her? I’m guessing she just wanted a normal life with dad. He has always supported her through everything. A love, a bond like that is hard to come by. He would also learn about magic right next to me. At least, the stuff my mom allowed to let us know.
That’s why I want to learn as much as I can, of what’s available. Why learn math in the muggle world when I could be learning divination. Spells of all types, potions for everything of inconvenience. My chores could be completed with just a flick of my wand. I’ve lately been learning wandless magic, on my own. Albus has helped by providing me with material to study that type of magic. The only thing I’ve managed so far is a spark coming from the tips of my fingertips. Sparking hope that I could actually, maybe, achieve that level. Now I won't get my hopes up, but that can lead me to a certain advantage in dueling. That being one of my weakest skills. Always panicking, saying any spells that pop up in my mind, and making random movements coming from my wand. Often confusing who I’m up against, although they recover from that confusion fairly quickly.
Riddle, met him once. One too many if you would ask me. I dissuade ever wanting to speak to him. Arrogance and pride flow through his tongue like second nature. I do take pride in succeeding above him in 3 classes. He is 2 classes above me but, that’s not the point. I do admit, he’s attractive. Only a little though, how else would he charm his way through the professors and students.
“Alright, I’m ready to go. You guys done?”
“Yeah,” I say. Devyn and I start leaving our seats and heading towards the huge doors.
Amelia hurried from her seat, a few steps behind since she took some fruit with her to eat on the way. More and more students also started making their way towards the first period. Not wanting to be blamed for the loss of house points. This system causes so many fights, everyone’s competitive side getting the best of their common sense. I would be lying if I said it didn’t get the best of me before. Amelia being her usual bubbly self skips backward while chatting with us. Before we could warn her to stop, she pushes someone ahead of her. Both falling down, hitting the floor. She spins her head extremely quickly, her hair sticking in her mouth from the force of the wind.
“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” she explains. Quickly trying to digest her situation. I make my way towards her and pull her up. I fix her robe and dust off any dirt on the cloth from the floor.
“Clearly idiot, can you not use those bug eyes of yours to see?”
Devyn and I make eye contact. We understand that there are witnesses here, and one of them is bound to snitch on us if we fight. A huge scene would probably make Amelia feel even more embarrassed as well. Instead, I guided Amelia by her back. We continue on to class while I comfort her. Devyn is staying back to “talk” to the guy. Lestrange is in for it now, any poor soul would be when in the fiery path of her anger.
Devyn’s loud yells could still be slightly heard when entering the potions classroom. First class of the year, and day. On Slughorn’s table, I can see a vial with the wideye potion contained inside. I set Devyn’s textbook on her station, turning to the page that contains information on the potion. Hoping to save her confusion and time.
“Welcome, welcome! Nice to see some old faces, and new ones,” he says with the biggest grin on his face. “Today we’ll be learning about the Wideye potion. Can anyone tell me what this potion does?”
I quickly raise my hand, rather eager. I did some reading about a lot of potions during the summer. Trying to get a headstart on my studies. This potion being one of them. Only 3 students raised their hand, one of them being me. The other, well, Riddle.
“Yes, go ahead and answer,” the professor looks my way.
I smile, “The wideye potion prevents the person consuming the liquid the ability to fall asleep. Which is often used in the medical field to wake someone from a sleep caused by a blunt force or drug.”
“Precisely! 10 points.”
I look back rather smugly at Riddle, rather happy I got chosen instead of him. I know, he could have easily answered that too. I’ll let myself bask in the small achievement for now. 30 minutes of class is just spent writing down notes, preparing us for the potion we will make. Note-taking is my favorite, especially the little doodles I get to make. We use a feather instead of the regular pen. I found it rather amusing and liked the certain feeling of writing with it. The dipping noise that the point of the feather makes when hitting the liquid ink is a very profound sound. No real writer’s bump forming on my fingers.
“That’s enough writing, I need you all to prepare your cauldron, gather the materials you need, and start your potion. If done correctly, tomorrow when we add the finishing touches and check on it the potion should be a blue/green color,” Slughorn comments. “You have 10 minutes to study your notes, then the rest of the class to make your potion. No looking back at your notes after those ten minutes.”
After scanning my notes, I stand up and walk towards the ingredients on the shelves. If I remember correctly my potion requires snake fangs, standard ingredient, and wolfsbane. I gather all that in my hand and set it down near my cauldron. Before I start, I take a moment. I’m missing something, I’m sure there was another ingredient.
Wolfsbane, check.
Snake fangs, six of them.
I have the measures of Standard ingredient.
There’s one more, I try to look around the room. Then I remember that we get an automatic failing grade if caught cheating. There’s no way I’ll let my grade drop like that. Over something so small and inconvenient too. Making my way to the shelves, I scan over the ingredients over and over again. Trying to see if any of the names pop out to me.
No.
Definitely not.
That’s an ingredient?
I don’t even want to know how that one was obtained.
This one, of course it’s this one. I even remember putting a star next to the name in my notebook. Dried Billwig stings, I believe six of them were needed. All that time wasted. Hurrying to my seat I get to work. The time goes by quickly, all that could be heard was the sizzling and whooshing of our potions. I almost knocked down my vials a couple of times. Someone actually did, their time spent on cleaning the glass off the floor. After heating the first three ingredients, I crush them together in the mortar. Then stir clockwise from what I recall, three times specifically. Finally, I wave my wand over then leave it to brew.
Just in time from the looks of it. I glance at Devyn to see how it went for her, and she looks pretty proud of herself. I take that as a blessing that it didn’t blow up this time of round. I’m guessing she took our advice and did it her own way.
A student raises his hand, “May we leave?”
“Oh yes yes, go ahead. No assignments for the first day, only the potion you made in class.”
Before I leave the classroom I examine Riddle’s station. He already left the room. His potion looks similar to how mine turned out, his workspace thoroughly cleaned. Everything used properly placed back to where it should be. Perfectly spotless, not a single speck of dust in sight. All done without magic too, surprising for someone born into the wizarding world. When I mentioned that I met him once, it wasn’t much of anything. The only way I know how he really acts is through other people. Much admire his intelligence and strong will. Others are jealous of the potential he holds for the future.
Girls are already trying to slip love potions into his drinks. I would feel bad if he wasn’t so rude to them. Only just before touching the disrespectful line. He almost drank one of their attempts before. Wouldn’t want to imagine how that turned out. Tom riddle, in love. That man probably doesn’t know the feeling of happiness, let alone love. I feel bad for his future girlfriend, she’s going to have to deal with a handful of baggage.
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~
“How much do you want to bet Nott will demolish him?” A Gryffindor girl to my left whispers.
Nott, part of Riddle’s group from what I’ve seen. They all eat lunch together and talk to one another so it’s a reasonable guess. Very talented duellist, one of the bests here.
“I hate to admit it, but he’ll definitely win this. I’ll still have hope for the other guy though,” I whisper back trying not to sound mean.
Nott and the other Slytherin boy are up right now. It’s a courtesy for the audience to stay quiet until someone casts the first attack or defense. From then on all you will hear is shouting of encouragement and the opposite. Nott’s eyes are focused, zoning in on the opponent before him. His wand is steady, mouth slightly parted to breathe through better. Whole-body alert and tense waiting for something. From what I'm getting, I believe he’s waiting for the Slytherin boy to go first. Nott casts spells quickly and thinks them through decently. Sometimes you're not able to create a counter-spell quick enough to defend yourself against him.
Riddle’s group and himself are near the corner of the platform. All seemingly analyzing every breath he inhales and exhales. I finally hear the whoosh of a wand and a whiz of light fly past the platform. The glow from the spell lighting our faces for a millisecond. Nott quickly counters that spell and moves to cast his own. Magic flies across the platform, all of our eyes going back and forth like a ping-pong match. The Slytherin boy starts breaking a sweat. He’s only been able to get a couple of offensive spells in there, most of his plays spent throwing off Nott’s. If he doesn’t turn the battle soon, the outcome will become very clear.
It is a little less exciting since we only know a handful of spells. So whatever you know from your own studies you use in these duels. When we move up the years the class will become more serious and dangerous. Right now it’s just to teach us how to counter and cast quickly. The proper etiquette and movement. You use spells that you know, they aren’t supposed to harm someone. Either stun them, make them fly back, or disarm. Most of those spells require a little of a higher level, most of us not even knowing of its existence yet. So what’s mostly cast between competitors is a basic spell to exert force. That force should be aimed for the legs, or the wand to disarm that way. The way someone can win here is to make their knees or hands touch the floor, or disarm their wand. As I mentioned, it will get more intense as time goes by. We're only just starting 3rd year right now, a lot more charms will be learned later on.
I shake my head to get rid of any lingering thoughts. My attention goes right back to the duel taking place in front of me. Nott quickly aims a spell at the knees and manages to bring the other boy to his knees.
“Mr. Nott wins this duel! Please step off the platform, we will evaluate your performance.”
During the practice duels today, you watch it, think of ways to help the person improve, and point out things they might have done wrong. At the end, the professor picks people raising their hands to allow them to give their feedback. Participating is part of the grade you get in here. I personally prefer giving feedback then dueling. I’m not the best at casting, I do give out good defense spells though. That should mean something, I hope.
“Let’s start with Nott, does anyone have feedback for him?”
A couple of people spread apart raised their hands. One by one they all ask questions and give feedback. They mention his feet and posture when he stands. Arms fully stretched out where it would have been more flexible to bend it slightly. When he casts he shouldn’t be walking backward. They shortly switch to the other boy’s questions and feedback. The way he never gave himself the opening to cast an offensive spell often. He would move around his area a lot. Almost slipping off the stage during one of those movements. Tom and his group privately discussed with one another. They’re probably giving Nott their own feedback and suggestions privately.
“Now, Riddle I want you to come up and…,” he scans the room for another student. After some time he points his finger at me. “You.”
I could have had a smooth sailing class. I was so close to not having to go up there. My hands start sweating a bit, my anxiety jumbling my thoughts together. Riddle’s already up there and soon to be on his side of the platform. Taking his wand out and wandering his fingers over the design. I gulp, a big toad stuck in my throat. I wipe my hands on my robe and start up the stairs. Riddle seems as unbothered as ever. We bow, turn, then walk ten paces back. During this time I try predicting who will cast first. I don’t know him very well, I’ve also never seen him duel.
I take my dueling stance and wait for the signal to start. Hoping, praying, that I don’t embarrass myself. Slipping up is not allowed, not when going against him.
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~
Taglist:
@empath-bunny
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comehomeducklings · 3 years
Text
Present [Part 1] (Obsession)
A/N: Please don't copy, redistribute, and/or post my work on this site or any others. This has taken my time and creativity to come up with the story's characters and plot.
Also, I swear my writing gets better. It's a little rough right now but I'm planning on rewriting them.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Tom Riddle's Moodboard
Main Character's Moodboard
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~
1943 ~ 6th year
No sound above whispers could be heard throughout the great hall. The food on the table hasn't been touched by a single hand. The very thought of eating churning all our stomachs. Not during these times. Our heads turn every now and then, afraid of what might sneak up behind us. The death of Myrtle and others has shaken the entire school. A murderer is among us, trust is such a foreign concept now.
Dark purple eye-bags lay beneath every single student's eyes. No one is allowed to go home for the holidays. They aren't allowing us to leave, we are stuck in this cloud of darkness and uncertainty. No owls are supposed to be sent out. As the head girl, I'm responsible for every student's life and responsibilities. I have to know where everyone is at all times. It gets tiring at times, but necessary nonetheless.
A nightly routine consisted of all my dormmates huddling around each other. No sleep would come to us all night. We wouldn't move from the same spot until light shown from the windows. Our beds are all pressed together in the farthest corner of the room from the door. Our wands never leaving our hands in case of danger. Every little sound made from the outside provoking us. Even to the point of going mad. Potions used to stay awake, slowly wearing off as the morning arose. No sleep, we can't afford that luxury anymore.
I would leave the dorm to wait at the portrait for our assigned house professor to come. They would tell me it was safe for everyone to head to the great hall to get breakfast. As soon as they were done I quickly went to everyone's dormitory to wake them up, if they even slept at all. I would then inform them that it was safe to step out of their dorms. After everyone got situated I would have the students form a line and lead them towards the great hall. 1st-3rd years would occasionally hold the folds of my robes. Fearing that when they blink I would be gone. Leaving them alone to deal with the dangers that lurk in the school.
Not once have I lied about how they are going to be all right. That would be cruel. These students don't seek pathetic nurturing words, they want a protective force watching over them. So many clubs and activities have been canceled. Hogsmede and quidditch proving as a prime example. No one complained though, quidditch players too afraid to even step out of the castle's walls even if they were allowed.
Back to the present, I hold my good friend's hand as she slightly shakes from anxiety. I can see it in her eyes, the doubt of making it alive eating away at her brain. The spark once present in her shiny green eyes being blown out. Amelia, her name being. She's been biting her nails again, to the point where it had bled. This can be backed by the dried-up blood that is present at the tip of her finger's nail.
A booming voice can be heard, "You are now being dismissed to head to class, your houses head girl and boy will be assigning the group you'll be heading off with."
First period has been removed from every perfect and head's schedule. During this time we search the whole castle for any wanders. We make sure everyone is where they are supposed to be. If someone got lost or went to the wrong class we escort them to where they need to be.
After every class, students have a limited amount of time to get to their next lesson. Although, perfects and heads get more time to make sure everyone is where they are needed quickly. Then we hurry to our class after scanning the halls swiftly.
The once safest school of the wizarding world giving birth to the dark ages. More bodies have been found littering the schools. Most of them not found until their ghosts appear before us. Every single one not knowing how they died. Like the murderer is invisible upon meeting the victim. I originally suggested it could have been done by poison. When the bodies were checked, no traces of poison had been traced.
Professors have been waiting for the person who is responsible to slip up, to give us a clue. I don't think that will happen though. The process of these killings has been too thought out and well planned. I wouldn't be surprised if these mass killings have been planned months before, even maybe years. I've been talking to the ghosts to try and gather all details, even the potentially useless ones. When our headmaster made us heads keep tabs on everyone, the killings stopped for a short amount of time. It was like the mastermind was creating a way to best us, to get past the "little inconvenience." It didn't take long for them to find the weak parts in the plan.
What we have got though, is that every single student killed has been a muggle-born. A classic case of an unfair stigma around the poor wizards and witches. They never were able to catch a break. Amelia, one of my close friends in the friend group. She's a muggle-born, hence the shaking of her hands. I've been keeping a closer eye on her, she doesn't leave my side. She comes on my patrols so I can keep her in my sights, with of course the permission of the teachers. There are only two times that I can not watch over her. Those two times are covered by my other friend Devyn, a pure-blood. She also helps keep her safe, not letting her go anywhere by herself. The two times are because she's in two different classes than I am. One of them being a study hall.
~////////////////𓆙////////////////~
"Professor, how will this class help us now? Reading teacups for predictions should be the least of our worries right now," a student at the back of the room exclaims.
"The said predictions could lead us to the future before it happens. Our worries lay exactly what will happen in the future. If anything, this is one of the most important classes we'll take this year," I say, continuing to read the teacup.
"Precisely, thank you. Now go back to studying, I'll be coming around to view your interpretations."
My tea leaves look more like a blob with a cross going through them. A weirdly shaped blob. I already know there is a cross, but what about the blob? I tried shaking it a little, looking at the leaves from different angles. I already crossed off a club, falcon, and the sun. It could be an acorn, but I see a slight hole in the blob.
Could it be...
"A skull that is." I jump at the sudden voice near my ear. My teacup almost falling from my grasp.
"Pardon, a what?"
She points towards two holes in the blob, one of them I just mentioned, "I saw you already found one hole, there's the other. How it's shaped could be a little difficult to see since the cross is through it, but it's there."
The professor takes the cup from my hand and lays it on her desk. Some of my classmates look at me in curiosity, but they soon lose interest and go back to their own tea leaves.
A cross and a skull, that sounds about right to how my school year is going so far. I scan my book to see exactly what they mean.
A skull, danger in your path.
A cross, trials and suffering.
"What d-did you find?" A Hufflepuff boy to my right asks.
I don't want to scare the poor boy, he's already frightened enough as it is. If my future got around to the school, everyone would start being concerned about me. I'll barely get any of my duties done if I didn't already get it taken away for my safety. Last thing I need right now is even more panic.
"Nothing much, the future is still a little foggy."
"That's, um, good. I couldn't really read mine either," he chuckles lightly, almost seemingly forced.
Our professor claps her hands together, "Class is dismissed, read up about your predictions if you haven't already. No homework today."
I gather my books and push in my chair. Right before I could reach the door where other students are waiting, the teacher stops me.
"I'll have to tell the headmaster about this, I shouldn't keep it a secret."
"No, please don't. If you must, only tell Albus. I can't have this messing anything up, I'll become vulnerable."
The professor looks around the room, her eyes wandering franticly. I'm sure I am asking a lot from her. I really need her to keep this a secret.
"Oh alright, you're my best student. I just would hate to see anything happen to you. I'm informing only Albus to see if he can keep an eye on you."
"Thank you so much, I swear I'll be careful." A huge weight is lifted off my shoulders. I can't be worrying about my future when I have to worry about everyone else's.
I leave the classroom and start heading to my next class. Potions have always been one of my favorite classes. Mixing a bunch of toxins into a pot is a specialty of mine. I'm quickly scanning the halls for any wanderers, making sure everyone is at class. My feet take me to Potions in a hurry. I don't want to miss much, trying to make the class as informational as possible.
"You shouldn't be running, you still have 3 minutes of checking the school."
It's always him, I even tried changing routes to avoid him. His idiotic smirk, thinking he actually did something. All he did is waste my time and train of thought.
"I'm allowed to run Riddle, it's not a rule. I already checked the halls I was assigned, did you?" I really have no energy for this.
Tom peers down at me, somehow still wearing that infamous smile. Eyes bright, filled with mischief and knowledge.
"I have, double-checked as well. I'm sure you only checked once. Such irresponsible actions, I still wonder how you nabbed the head-girl spot."
I choose not to answer, not giving in to his baiting. Does he think I'm that stupid? That easily bothered by a simple test of my patience.
"You could have just said you wanted to walk me to class Riddle. No need to be shy with me."
"Shy, a concept I would not know of. Might as well bring you to class, since I'm heading there myself. Wouldn't want you to be in danger, since you consistently prove you can't handle a simple check of the hallways."
"I told you Tom-"
"Once is not enough, you should know that by now," he interrupts me, feigning a sudden serious facade on.
We start heading towards Slughorn's room. I'm a little behind his figure. Mostly looking down to make sure I don't step over his feet and fall. He sometimes walks with me, very confusing if I may say. Hating my skills, probably still hates me. You can often find us arguing if we are ever partners in class together. The usual game we play, how many questions can we get right by the end of class. Last time he won by one point, my sour mood not helping the atmosphere.
"You look rested, more than me at least," I smile tiredly. My whole body slightly sagging forward from exhaustion. He looks as proper as someone could be. His skin is a little pale though, brighter than usual. Almost like he was sick, his eyes look darker too. More sunken in, the shape of his skull more prominent. His looks still annoyingly well presented.
"Yes, you do look rather tired. I see other things have prioritized above your looks."
This man, the audacity of this man. The only reason I'm not at the top of every class. Our number 1 student count being evenly split. I have to bite down on my tongue forcefully to not say anything back. I'm too tired to truly come back with anything witty, so I choose to save myself from the embarrassment. Instead, I slightly step on his robe on the ground causing him to trip up a little.
He quickly sends a warning glare my way and then continues walking. I smile slightly, knowing even if it was petty, it was worth it.
Riddle doesn't even hold the door for me when we walk in. Causing it to slam dangerously close to my face.
"There you two are, I was afraid you weren't going to make it," Slughorn exclaims excitedly. "Turn your textbooks to page 246, we are going to learn how to make a Polyjuice potion!"
I glance at Tom, his eyes only focus on the words before him not realizing my gaze is on him. I wonder if he'll make this a competition as well. Knowing him, as well as me, anything but competition is out of our character. He looks up catching my eyes, I tilt my head. Trying to silently communicate from afar.
His head turns to Slughorn, then back to me. He nods his head and that's all it takes for both of us to come to an understanding. Whoever can answer the most questions, and create the best potion gets bragging rights.
I don't intend to lose.
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comehomeducklings · 3 years
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Obession - Main Character's Moodboard
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comehomeducklings · 3 years
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comehomeducklings · 3 years
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Marcus Lopez As Your Boyfriend
This man would kill anyone who laid their hands on you. Even if you could handle them yourself he still gets protective.
Definitely holds your waist while you're doing something. Like cooking, brushing your teeth, cleaning blood off the walls
Loyal to you and only you. Of course, Maria has probably tried some stuff but he only has his eyes on you
Holds you in his arms while you're breaking down at 3 a.m. (you also do the same for him)
There are some arguments every now and then, but you both take some time to gather your thoughts then discuss the problem together again after a period of time
He could be over-protective at times, but you love him for it anyway
Study dates, learning how to get away with assassination (how cute)
Discussing ways to burn down the whole government while cleaning the dorm room
You guys defiantly blast music late at night and get noise complaints often
Kisses peppered all down your back
Marcus likes touching your thighs while making out
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comehomeducklings · 3 years
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Should I start writing stuff with Tom Riddle? I just don’t know if I can do him justice.
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comehomeducklings · 3 years
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Masterlist
Benjamin Wadsworth
~Oneshots / Imagines~
Sneaky Glances
~Pictures~
I CAN'T DO THIS
My two favorite men
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Marcus Lopez (Deadly Class)
~Oneshots / Imagines~
Late Night Run-Ins
Don’t Dirty The Carpet
Marcus Lopez As Your Boyfriend
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Dylan O’Brien
~Pictures~
Piece of Art
My two favorite men
Infinite
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Thomas (Maze Runner)
~Series~
Hero: Part 1 |
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Tom Riddle (Harry Potter)
~Series~
Obsession: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 (Coming soon)
~Oneshots / Imagines~
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Random
I’ll Be Here
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comehomeducklings · 3 years
Text
More Walls | Part 1
Pairing: Thomas (Maze Runner) x OC
A/N: Some scenes from the movie will be altered and misplaced to fit the storyline. I hope that's not too annoying <3
My OC is catered to all races. She has no specific one so you could either insert yourself in her place or imagine how you would like her to look.
Word Count: +2k
~❀❀❀❀~
"Do you think this will help them along? You already sent Teresa down there."
Lab coats rush around me, some of the doctors place needles into my arm. I'm sitting on a stool with my white coat on my lap. The bright white lights are starting to strain my eyes. All this preparation is making me sleepy. How much longer do I have until they put me under?
"Thomas needs a little more of a push to find a way out. Since he would risk his life for you, I think you are the answer."
That would be true if they didn't wipe all his memories away. Only left with his name and growing curiosity. I was going to go into the maze but he volunteered in my steed. Always the hero. Now that I'm also going in, I'm not that hesitant anymore. There is nothing left for me here. My little sister, my only living relative left, passed away. If I couldn't save her, what makes them think I could save the world?
I look up from the ground into her cold eyes, "What will I be left with?"
She smiles sadly and plays with the ends of my hair. Her eyes almost looking sincere.
"Just your name, like everyone else." She paused for a few seconds, removing her hand from my hair, "I do wish I could do more to protect you. I promised your mother-"
I raise my hand in a stopping motion. I don't need a reminder of my mother, I already failed her by not protecting her other child enough. Thomas blamed himself. Claiming he could've done more to help carry the weight of my responsibilities. I couldn't let him do that. He had enough baggage for himself to deal with, he didn't need mine on top of that. Maybe that's why I agreed to go, to get another chance.
"You've done so much for me already, you know how I hate not doing enough for you."
"You have sacrificed more than you needed to. Proving your loyalty every day. Remember, WICKED is good."
"WICKED will save the world," I nod in confirmation.
The rumbling noise of the cage wakes me up. I open my eyes in a panic, my hair drenched in water. I look around at the claustrophobic walls.
Where am I?
Why am I here?"
Who am I?
How did I get here?
How am I getting out?
Suddenly the cage comes to a hard stop. The boxes and I got harshly shoved forward. My panic rises by the second. If I'm stuck in here I could potentially starve. From how hot it is I could easily get dehydrated. I crawl towards one of the boxes but before I could even attempt at opening it, sunlight pours through the roof.
The commotion surrounding my senses catches my attention. My eyes adjust from the sudden bursts of light.
"Another one? We had one more week until the new month?" I hear a British accent come from one of the many boys surrounding my cage. Inspecting me like I'm some sort of animal.
"I guess they decided to send one in early, someone go inform Alby."
A boy with blonde hair jumps into the cage near where I sat. The cage rattled from the heavy force. I started crawling backward as much as I could, getting the most distance this cage provided.
"What are you doing, don't come closer." I puff my chest out to seem stronger and bigger than I truly was.
"Sweetheart we need to get you out of the cage so we can load the stuff out. We won't hurt you, right guys." He raises an eyebrow and all the boys start nodding their heads quickly.
"My name is Gally, do you remember yours yet?" As soon as I start racking my brain for a name, a headache pounds through me. Nothing coming up.
My name...my name, what's my name? Why can't I remember? My name, my name, come on...name, name.
"Sounds like it hasn't come to you yet. Don't fret you'll remember eventually. Give it time."
Eventually? Why would it take time to remember such a simple part about myself? I stand up and walk towards the edge as I wait to be helped up. That never comes so instead I make eye contact with Gally and give him a look to help. I'm not about to climb my way out, I'm tired, hungry, and thirsty.
"Oh-," he eventually takes the hint and places his hands respectfully on my waist to lift me up.
"Yo Newt, bring her up."
The boy with a nice accent grabs my arm and pulls me up. With a surprisingly strong force, may I add, for someone with a lanky figure. As I step onto the ground I gaze towards the blue sky, no clouds in sight. The second thing my brain focuses on is the tall stone walls enclosing this space. I get out of little cage walls to a bunch of bigger ones, love that for me.
"Where am I?"
"Welcome miss, to the Maze."
❀❀❀❀
"Why is it called the Maze?"
The boy named Newt points his finger towards the walls, "Behind those walls lays a huge maze. In that maze is the exit to getting out of here."
Most of the boys have dispersed as Newt took me on a tour around the area.
"We all have jobs here, while I'm second-in-command, I'm also one of the Track-hoes. We grow all the fruits and vegetables and harvest for consumption."
"Do I get a job?" I look around to see what I could do around here. I'm not surprised that they make people pull their weight. It seems organized and successfully ran.
"Yes, Alby who is first-in-command will give you a role at the end of the week. You'll have one day at every job to see how well you can work. The best work you do in a specific job will most likely be where you continue to work for your remaining time here."
"When do I start?"
"Now, you will meet our leader later. He's busy currently. You'll be working with me for today."
That doesn't seem too hard, it could be worse.
"What are all the jobs?" Newt looks back at me while he hands me some tools.
"Well, there's the builders, cooks, slicers, med-jacks, runners, and the track-hoes."
I'll have to ask him more about the jobs so I can get an idea of how they run this place. With so many adolescent boys grouped together who knows how they do things around here. Especially the kinds of punishments you receive if you break any of the rules. Do they have rules set?
❀❀❀❀
Sweat glistened off of my forehead, the sun rays really working up my appetite. What I said before, about gardening seeming not "too hard." That was a complete lie. You have to work out in the sun for hours on end. Barely any breaks, if you do happen to get a break it's mostly making sure you don't blackout. There was no wind to even make the heat bearable. I have a newfound respect for these gardeners.
"Hey Newt, I heard the Greenie is working with you today?" A girl with a blue shirt and dark hair came jogging down to where we worked.
"Yeah, she's right here. Newbie, this is Teresa. She came 3 weeks before you got here."
Teresa sticks her hand out to shake my hand. I quickly wipe my hands on my pants before touching her hand because not too long before I was picking out weeds off the dirty ground.
"Nice to meet you, Teresa. I'm glad there's another girl here. I was starting to get worried"
"Me too, the runners should be getting here soon. Can she come Newt?" Teresa asks already taking my hand in hers and slowly moving backward.
"Yeah, we were already pretty much done for the day."
The runners, Newt told me about them. They went into the maze to find a way out. Finding new paths and seeing how the mechanisms worked. Since the walls move, actually move. Runners have to be fast, agile and have good stamina to pretty much run through there for the whole day.
Everyone started gathering around the entrance to the maze. Tension slightly thick in the air as everyone held their breath. Waiting for their runners to be spotted. As we all waited there patiently sighs of relief and ecstatic voices started rising throughout the group. I was in the back while Teresa was a little bit ahead of me. Most of these sweaty bodies were blocking my view. Finally, people started moving and dispersing with their friends.
That's when I saw him, he was smiling and receiving hugs from those around him. The sky was softly glowing with light as the sun slowly lowered. He was smiling and chatting with Newt and a boy I haven't met yet while Teresa talked with another boy that came out of the maze.
"Oh! Minho we got a new girl while you guys were running. She doesn't know her name yet."
This guy looks towards me while Teresa gestures for me to go introduce myself.
"Hi, Greenie. Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too. So you guys really run through that maze. Every day?"
"Yep, I give them a day of rest once a week. The maze isn't that bad, you'll see once you work for me for your one day."
The guy I saw a little bit ago comes up to Minho and slaps him on the shoulder.
"We heading towards the room today or not?" The guy asks, his voice scratching all the right parts of my brain. He was cute, before I could get caught lacking I force my eyes away from him.
"Nope, we got a new Greenie. So we're having that party later tonight."
"Party?" I asked furrowing my eyebrows. I wasn't told of any party going on.
"Yea, for you. We welcome all our newcomers with a party to hang out and let loose."
"I'm Thomas, me and Chuck over there can show you to where you'll be staying." Chuck, the little curly-haired boy Thomas was speaking to only moments ago. All these names are starting to make my brain hurt. I don't even know mine yet.
"That's me! I'm Chuck, Chuck is me, I'm Chu-"
"I think she knows now." Thomas takes his hand and ruffles the curly boy's head of hair.
"Ha, sorry I got a little nervous." He was honestly the cutest. I wanted to give him a huge hug.
"It's alright I didn't mind. Are you going to show me where I'll be sleeping?"
"Oh yes! You'll be sleeping near me, Teresa, and Thomas. I already made your hammock so that you could be prepared already."
"That's extremely kind of you Chuck, thank you."
I look back at the boy and held a sheepish smile on his lips, "Is there a party every time for a new person?"
Thomas looks up from the ground, "Every time. My tip to you is to not fight in the little arena with Gally."
"Who would be stupid enough to do that?" I ask innocently and Chuck laughs a bit.
"You're looking at him," Chuck's response made me chuckle a bit myself.
"You?!"
Thomas scrambles his head for anything to defend himself with.
"Okay in my defense I was new to everything. And at least I landed one on him!" He shoves Chuck slightly, "I got something out of it too, my name."
His name. When and how will I remember mine? At this point, I'll just make up a random one. Maya, Sarah, Jessica? Maybe even Joey.
"This is your bed. I have to catch up with a friend of mine. Thomas will take you to the party. I feel like we'll be good friends in the near future." Chuck gives me a huge gummy smile, one that could light up a whole room on its own.
"I think that too. See you later,"
Now it was just me and him. He won't stop staring at me while I check out my bed.
"How do I get on one?" I lift my right leg and try going headfirst onto the hammock.
It soon turns over quickly, catching me off guard. I'm about to fall over before Thomas catches my arm and lifts me safely off the death trap.
"What the hell is that thing. Who would want to make it so difficult to sleep."
Thomas laughs at this and brings you back to the bed.
"You have to slowly balance yourself onto it. Here hold my shoulder while you put half of your body first, then the other half."
I do as he says and slowly fix myself to get comfortable. Never letting go of his shoulder once, even if I didn't need it anymore. Still frightened I was going to fall and embarrass myself.
"There you go, you did good," he praises me. That stirs something deep in me, not that I noticed.
"You probably still need a little more practice but you're a fast learner. C'mon, it's time you make an appearance at your own party."
Thomas and I slowly make our way towards the bonfire. I'm in no rush as we quickly get along and get to know one another. He's extremely sweet and from only talking to him for a little bit you could tell his friends mean everything to him. Especially Chuck, he pretty much adopted that boy as his son. I mean, who wouldn't? That boy is the sweetest kid, hell I might even adopt him.
"Hey, uh, do you remember anything before here? Before you came here I mean."
Thomas steals my gaze with his own, "Not really, you sound familiar though."
"I do?" Confusion laces my tone. He knew me?
"Yeah uh-" Thomas coughs anxiously. "Just a little."
I rack my brain to anything that could link towards the boy beside me. The headache starts again until I hear something muffled. It's like it's at the very back of my head. Fuzzy noises going in and out.
"Ember"
"Ember"
"Ember"
"EMBER"
I cough out in relief. A whole wave of happiness coming over my body. My name finally being remembered. A part of a huge puzzle piece being unlocked.
"Ember, your name I'm guessing?" My name sounded good coming from him. Not like he'll ever know that.
"Finally, I waited all day for that."
"Well Ember, to new beginnings."
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