#I think I was invisible to the headmistress too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-yellow-birdy · 11 months

Text

I come at this hour, only for you (part. II)

AN: Hi, here's part 2! Hope you will enjoy and as always any feedback is appreciated lt<3 <Don't hesitate to message me, if you wish to be on the taglist:)>

L.O.L - Yellow bird

// 18+ audience only! - Sexual Themes - Dom!LarissaWeems x Sub!FemReader - Heavy dom/sub dynamics - BDSM - Power dynamics/Power play - consensual manipulation - Implied cunnilingus - fingering- guided masturbation - Lesbian yearning - All characters are above the age of 18\\

“Crawl”, she had said.

The night took a different turn after that single, horrifyingly, arousing word was flung out into the room. You only remember a few sequences from the nights endeavors, for your mind had slowed and been drugged with the heaviest substance of them all.

Slick arousal, heels, musky sweetness, blue, pleasure.

The line had been crossed. There was no turning back from her sweetened wicked ways. You know you shouldn’t have, and even if you wanted to think she did too, you knew she didn’t. The undeniable attraction you had was stronger than any will you would ever be able to muster. You couldn't get enough and you didn’t want enough.

It had been a week since the night of your unspoken commitment and you were beyond confusion. Had you been imagining the whole thing? No! Definitely not imagining, perhaps hallucinating?

There hadn’t been any late night messages requiring you by her side, morning greetings as she passed your desk or even the faintest of a smile presented to you. It seemed as if you were invisible to her. A mere day-player in her everyday life, not even worthy of a glance. And frankly you didn’t know whether to be fuming or saddened by her behavior. Maybe you were just a thing for her to have her fun with, and once she was done, you would be cast out, becoming a part of the unimportant world around her.

You couldn’t take it. All you wished was for her to notice you, tell you how good you were doing, have you drive to Jericho to fetch her coffee, make you pour her tea, or even make you sit half naked in front of her, eating her out till the dawn of morning.

Anything.

Only one thing kept you from completely putting out the fire within you.

There had been this one encounter between you, which had you feeling all sorts of emotions inside yourself you couldn't explain.

It was a particularly late night a few days ago, when you had stayed later than usual. Numerous papers and documents Ms. Weems couldn’t catch up with, had been passed on to you with an…

“I expect them to be filled out by tonight.”, she said, and with a hasty look into your eyes she was gone. Sauntering back to her office in her beige cocktail dress and black stilettos, you couldn’t help but let your eyes linger on her swaying hips and meaty backside as she swayed them flawlessly.

You had delivered the papers to her and as she retrieved them without any recognition of your presents, you left. Again your heart ached and longed for the thing you couldn’t even admit.

It wasn’t until you ran through the rain down to the parking lot that the most peculiar thing happened. As you opened the car door you felt a strange sensation within you. You looked upon the majestic building of the school, heavy rain ensnaring your ability to hear. It got cold, yet, just as you were about to get in the car, you spotted the lovely headmaster standing in the office window, surveying you. You couldn’t see her face, the dark night casting a shadow on it, only a silhouette of yellow glow shone around her, caused by the fireplace. She saw that you had caught her in the act, yet she did nothing to withdraw from your view.

Leaving so soon, sweet mouse?

You stood in the rain, having absolutely no care for your wet toes or damp hair, gazing up at the headmistress. Still she kept looking at you, it felt eerie and comforting at the same time. A few moments went by between you, even if you were separated by vast space you felt it.

What does she want?

Suddenly, she raised her right slender arm that crossed over her stomach and gave you a small wave, her fingers wiggling in the cool air of the spacious room. It was the first time she had gifted you any attention other than curtsies and basic work formalities in days or weeks, you couldn’t tell any longer.

You waved back at her.

Don’t turn around, don’t turn around

As she lowered her arm and turned back disappearing in the dim lit office you got in your car, soaked and tired, yet a spark of hope remained in the back of your mind as you drove back to your apartment.

However, that was days ago and right now it was time you clocked out, you were exhausted and couldn’t bear to think about this excruciating situation any longer. Seven had already struck and all your work was finished. As you had stuffed all your personal belongings in your bag and put your coat on after organizing your desk for tomorrow, you made your way towards the headmistresses office.

Just get it over with.

You knocked twice, feeling melancholic at the emptiness within you, knowing your interactions would be limited and strained.

“Enter.”, you heard her enchanting voice echo through her office.

You opened the door and stepped inside, not closing it behind you.

Just for good measure.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, “Goodnight Principal Weems, I’m off for today…”

She looked up from her screen, the glasses on the tip of her nose looked as if they would fall off were she to bend her head further down to look at you.

The enchanting woman was looking at you with curiosity or was it skepticism? Surely she wouldn’t be doubting your promise of your work being finished, you would never lie to her! Did she not know that? Of course she did, you’re just being ridiculous.

You couldn’t help but consider the observing of Ms. Weems a privilege. The woman had an astounding facade. Elegant, fierce, charming with a tint of something wicked, only to be noticed in the corners of her lips or glints in her eyes. Something dark laid beneath and you were quit sure, you were the only one knowing. Everyone else, blinded by the tall beauty and her toothy smiles. A siren is what she is, an enchantress having a new prey in sight. Unfortunately, as enlightened as you were, you didn’t look away.

But her. The way she licks the envelope before sealing it, a tiny lipstick stain now and then. How her demeanor changes from principal Weems to Larissa at the end of a shift, bidding you a good night. How she bends over you ever so slightly to show you something on the school system, purring directions in your ear, as her hand is laid on your back, soothing the tensions in your spine from her close proximity. Oh you could just keep going, her accent, the expensive smell of prada perfume, the wine red lipstick, her movements, moans oh.

Her moans were sweet and almost put you in a coma the first time you heard them. The only time you heard them.

How do you make it stop? This improper infatuation was a dead end, you had to clear your mind, think rationally as you usually did.

“I see.”, she husked.

She reached for the metal hinges of her glasses, taking them off and putting them silently down on the desk. A moment of silence fell and before you knew, she arose from her leather chair, it squeaked from the movement. She stood to her full astounding six feet and however many inches height. The light gray knee dress she wore looked impeccable on her as it hugged her meaty features perfectly, even more so with the pendant around her waist, accentuating her figure and the aura of her expensive living. She stood a short second by her desk, fingers pressed on the smooth surface, before sauntering in your direction.

Nononono

You didn’t know whether to run or to stay. Hell, you didn’t even know which of the two you most desired. You loathed the way she made you feel. The claiming of your body without even touching it, simply being in her presence had your skin crawl with excitement and hairs on the back of your neck spike. Only one question left on your mind.

What’s her next move?

She halted in her steps, looking down on you with an expressionless face, the once sky blue eyes had turned a dark ocean blue. Her hand gripped the wooden door, the other one placed on her hip, trapping you in her space even if the hall was free to escape through right behind you.

She seemed to enjoy the helplessness your body language involuntarily showed, when a tiny smile appear on her face.

No, you wouldn’t be played with like this. You are a grown woman, capable of confronting your demons. Even if the demon was a neck breaking tall celestial goddess with eyes carved of the finest diamond known to mankind.

With no care for where you were standing, she slowly closed the door, giving you enough time to move. You felt lightheaded by the unexpected action and didn't know what to do other than complying with her actions, moving to the side as the door closed in with a small clink.

So much for an escape plan

Your heartbeat picked up, “stop”, you said, turning your head. The tension was so evident you could taste it, smell it, cut it right open and let it flow around the room and not just in the few centimeters between you.

She is so close.

You could feel the scented bodily heat radiating off of her, by how close you were standing and it gave you a bad case of vertigo.

You looked at the ground, certain that if you even caught a glimpse of her you would bend and fall, hard and painful. She observed the features of your face, her eyes focusing on your half open lips, looking as if she cared little to none for your request.

She let two fingers guide your chin so that your eyes no longer lingered on the floors, but at her.

“With what, my sweet?”

Tell me, tell me dear.

She was so close, yet the feeling of her being further away than ever perceived your mind. Why did she have to be so damn beautiful, especially with the moonlight hitting the side of her face from the early october nights glow.

A beautiful manipulator was definitely not what you needed in your life, no, not what you wanted in your life. Rational, think rational god damn it.

Breathe. 1… 2 … 3 .. J- Just breat…

With no care for her or yourself, you lunged forward, smashing your lips against her plumb red pillows. Your faces melted with each others, heads turning with vigor as your mouths molded together in sync. Your eyes fell shut in bliss. It was the first time you tasted them and even if you had tasted her lower set of lips as well, this was just as addictive. The juices are more watery and different in taste. She tasted of chocolates and cosmetics from her lipstick.

She had a sweet tooth

It was pure heaven, pure hell, pure her.

Other than forcing her tongue deeper into your mouth, Larissa did nothing, she simply stood her ground, not touching, not moving, nothing. The only thing she yielded to was the saccharine taste of your mouth. Your spit. It made her want to drink it, make you drink hers. She wanted every last single bit of you devoured by her mouth. The only thing she needed was to make you crave it so dearly, not even god herself could hold you back.

Finally, after what felt like years of laying on the burning surface of the sun, she took a hold of your cheeks with one of her hands, the other still glued to her hip and backed away from your mouth. She looked down at you with hooded eyes, head held high, emphasizing her true role after your little display of disregard.

“What a naughty girl you are, kissing your superior like that, hmm.”, her warm, heavy breath hit your face as she squeezed your cheeks harder and wrinkled her nose, the purring of her voice slick and firm. She looked into your doe eyes that were hazed and blinded by arousal. You were irresistible and if you did not stop pliably watching her with that needy look on your face, it would be the death of her. You would be the death of her.

“Have you no manners?”, you hear her words, the condescending meaning of them, but the grin on her lips tells you otherwise.

She lets go of your face, taking a step back and folding her hands in front of her, taking on the role as Principal Weems once again.

“I bid you a good night, Ms. L/n. I trust you can find your way out.”, she sang, still a bit out of breath. She gave you a curt smile, not one of friendliness, no, one of something you couldn’t quite distinguish just yet.

You were on the verge of tears. How could this woman treat you so cruelly?

“But -But I didn…”

“Goodnight. Ms. L/n.”

You straightened your body from against the wall. Your bag had been discarded to the floor, unbeknownst to you in the midst of the heated activities. You picked your belongings up from the floor and took ahold of the doorknob.

“I expect you here tomorrow night at nine, I do hope Saturday evening has no occupations keeping you.”

You were shocked, has this woman no empathy? Why are you not saying anything? You had never been so ashamed of your malleable behavior. And then again, no one has ever brought that specific side out of you like she ever before.

“Yes, Ms. Weems.”

—-

You were crazy.

Absolutely insane.

As you stood in front of the great wooden door once more, you looked down at the time.

8:57

Should you wait. Maybe, just a minute. You definitely didn’t drive a little faster just so you wouldn’t be late, no of course not. It was just, the make-up you applied earlier took a bit longer than usual, nothing else. Your breath had become a tad ragged from the fast pace of your walking and as always the running wasn’t the only thing making your heart beat at an abnormal fast pace.

You imagined her sitting in her office chair as usual, tapping away at her computer. Or maybe she was signing some documents of yours, that you had finished earlier, in her admirable handwriting.

It was laughable to think about the many times you had stood beside her, as her long slender fingers moved the pen over the white sheet and flexed after a particularly long sentence. It had been small catches of the eye at first, but soon they had turned into deep stares of the womans dainty hands. If she had ever caught your prolonged gazes, she never let you know, simply giving you back the papers, her fingertips brushing yours.

You never knew it could feel so sweet. And how come you had never experienced it like this before? Other partners or flings had simply passed as sand slipping through your fingers. You didn’t really care much for it if you were being honest. Noone ever really sparked a burning interest within you, but neither had anyone made you want to run for the hills faster than you knew your feet would take you, like her. It excited you, whether you wanted to admit it or not.

Time struck 8:58.

You knocked carefully at the door, announcing yourself with a bit of courage you had been able to muster, “Principal Weems, it’s Y/n, you wished to see me.”

She called upon you, “yes, enter.”

You did as instructed and slowly swung the heavy door open, met by a peculiar sight. You stopped in your tracks as the image of the headmistress sitting behind her mahogany desk-piece fully immersed in her work, didn’t perceive your vision.

You stood in the door, leaving it to close on its own as you let go of it. You looked around. She must be in here. You just heard her, unless you’ve gone completely bonkers she had to be here.

With a disturbance in the corner of your eye you directed your gaze towards the fireplace and what a sight to see. The principal was sitting in the Victorian sculptured chaise, her signature heels discarded next to it with a grand bottle to the side. From your line of vision, you could only see her hand dangling off the armrest, accompanied by a glass of what must’ve been red wine. The top of her updo she never failed to style just perfectly. And lastly her foam white shins, crossing just where her ankles meet. You swallowed some excess saliva from your mouth and fiddled with your fingers.

“Go ahead and strip Y/n, I wish you bare.”, her voice rang into the room.

The shirt of which you wore was quickly becoming too tight, almost too tight to breathe.

Strip.

Bare.

You had never been so terrified and titillated in your life. Your armpits felt warm and soaked mimicking the parts between your legs.

Larissa never let down a fight. Ever since she herself was a student at Nevermore Academy would she never bow to conquer, always eyes on the price. Especially when a certain Addams was to be her appointed opponent, was she a force to be reckoned with, just like now. Except this time of course, her opponent is very much more favorable to her, and far more enjoyable at that. Oh, she just couldn’t wait to have you admit defeat.

As your body had been frozen and your heart skipping several beats, Larissa got impatient and cleared her throat.

It had been a good minute with no evident sound of clothes dropping to the floor. She turned her head just a small angle, yet enough for you to catch her poised side profile as it lit up from the fiery background. Hypnotic.

“Shall I have to repeat myself, girl?”, the words fell from her lips and you saw her delicious tongue forming them as she spoke.

Just as if in a trance once more, every border was let down. You slowly pulled the shirt over your head. You dropped it to the floor, still looking towards her. You started grabbing the back of your bra to snap it open, freeing you perked breasts.

“No, Ms. Weems.”

She drove her sight back to the dancing fires, “Good.”

As your tits met the chilling air, your nipples almost immediately hardened, even more than they already were from your involuntary arousal.

As the material of your clothes grazed your skin, she heard the whooshing sound and the desire to turn around and watch as you undressed was gradually growing more and more insufferable. She didn’t of course. It had taken the headmistress many moons and suns to learn the importance of patience, especially with you here now. She couldn’t just throw all care out of the window this early.

All things good come to those who wait.

You removed your own heels putting them aside. Then your socks, left and right, putting them in the open space of your left behind stilettos.

The wooden floors had icicles spike up through the skin of the padded area of your soles. The only carpet in the room was in front of the fireplace, as of right now laid right under the awaiting woman's own nylon covered feet.

The rigid air in the room was closing in on you.

How on earth are you supposed to go through with this? Your face was hot and red. Stomach turning and bubbling in excitement. Your head dizzy and light. Dear god, why did she have to wear that awful perfume that let your better judgments get lost in the cravings of tasting it on your lips, licking it right from the source of her skin.

You unbuttoned the last of your slacks restraints. With your underwear, they glided over your flesh protected hips and quietly fell to the floor in a pool around your feet. Your cold, red, bare feet, on the brink of running in every direction away and towards the scarily quiet woman.

You could still stop it, you could!

“Come to me.”, she calmly said and raised the wine glass in her hand and gulped down a big sip of the silky red substance. Her lipstick had laid a mark on the brim of the glass.

Maybe she would let you lick it off.

What? No.

Your heartbeat felt heavy and as if your heart was threatening you, that with each timid step you would take, it was further on its journey to pop out of your chest. Fall to the ground in a splattering of blackened red blood, only for her to come by your limp side as your heart was still beating on the floor next to you, piercing right through it with her sharp, plastic heels.

You took a step towards her, but a cold voice made you stop and the feeling of utter exposure finally hit you.

“Not like that.”

A moment of silence pierced the temperature of the room. Fright strangled you and left you behind with a ragged breath. You knew what she was asking, from the moment you took a step you already knew that deep down it wasn’t enough. Could you really bring yourself to do it, you already had.

Yes.

Like a subject bowing for the reign, a believer kneeling in front of the holy cross, you did what you knew was required of you.

You got onto your hands and knees. Still not having made it to the fluffy carpet, the cold floor embraced you and reminded you of what was to come. What you were.

She couldn’t believe it. The pride she had for you in this very moment seethed through her bones, for she knew where you were, what you had done. You were perfect, absolutely and completely made for her. There was no doubt in her mind.

The fear of the loss of your dignity that once had you in a chokehold had faded into the abyss, and even if a heavy blanket of shame couldn’t help but cover your mind given the position you found yourself in, exposed, sweaty and obedient, it simply was of insignificance to you, for the only thing that was kept in your mind and had been for this entire encounter since you entered the door was…

I want to see your face.

You crawled along the floor. The only sound in the room came from the spectacle the woman herself was watching, the crackling of burning wood as the fire slowly turned its flesh from a beautiful brown to a black and gray surface, slowly transforming it into ashes like the former blocks beneath them.

You were suddenly met with the white, soft carpet underneath you. Your hands and knees had gotten slightly red from the hard ground and the carpet was a comfortable contrast to it, almost soothing the soreness.

You moved on hands and knees up beside her. Your mind was cramped with thoughts you didn’t know what to do or how to cope with.

What if she thinks a fool of you.

Did you make a mistake? Assuming the wrong thing.

Is your body to her liking?

You know you’re leaning more towards the plaine look rather than a great beauty such as herself, would she mind?

Are you doing good?

Is she satisfied with you?

Is she happy?

Larissa turned her head to look down at your form. She couldn’t hold back the ragged breath she had held within her. One glance at your naked body next to her and she knew there was no telling of the heads and heels any longer. She adored the eagerness in you to be near her, be with her. The compliance you showed melted something in the older woman she wouldn’t be showing this early on, but it was certainly still there.

You were a beauty, a true and utter pretty girl, all for her. All for her to see and touch and feel.

“Sit up, my darling.”

You sat back onto your heels. You looked up at her and you swore the look of reassurance and calm in her face made you want to burst into tears, for it melted every last bit of doubt within you away.

She couldn’t help but observe your uncovered flesh and visible bone outlinings of your body as you straightened your back. Your breasts were just above average in size, they bounced deliciously on your ribcage as you moved. Your nipples had become soft again, they now presented themselves as a heavier contrasting pink on your smooth skin.

Larissa felt a slow throbbing in her underwear. How on earth she managed to catch such sweet innocence under her hand was a mystery to her, but a blessing nonetheless. And of course a pad on the back, if you were to ask her.

She looked into your eyes. Your wide, glazed eyes filled with arcour and need. You were both holding your breaths once more. The connection of your bodies pulled you to almost grasp for the other, even if you had not shared a single touch yet. Your freckled face had never before looked upon her as it did now. How wonderful.

Still gazing at you, she took the wine in her other hand and let the other stretch itself towards your face. She caressed your cheek with the back of her fingers. It had been so long.

So long, so long, so long

Too long, without the sweet tingling of her touch. Her skin felt cool to the one on your face. It calmed you more than you cared to admit, Yet your body deceived you when your eyes fell lightly shut.

“How has your day been, sweet girl?”, she moved her hand to the top of your head, scraping the stray hairs down your hairline out of your face and behind your ears.

You opened your eyes, “It was okay. Ms. Weems.”

She removed her hand. You felt empty once more. She looked at you for a moment, seemingly captured in a thought stream. With a graceful movement of her other hand, she presented you with the half filled glass, prodding you to take it. After a moment of confusion, you tentatively did.

“Hmm, I'm certainly hoping the answer will change to one with a bit more enthusiasm by the end of tonight”, she lifted her eyebrow with an adoring smile to her lips.

“Drink.”

If you had any knickers on, they would have been submerged with the slick forming between your thighs.

Gods no. What if you're making a mess on her rug?

You took a glance at the red liquid, bringing it closer to your face and revealed in its earthy aroma. After a little investigating, you brought it to your lips and began to slowly drink. It was expensive, that much you were able to tell. The taste was more intense and flavors more complex than the cheap ones in your own fridge at home. Halfway through you wanted to lower the glass, not able to drink anymore. But as soon as you tried to pry away the glass, the woman above you moved with elegant hast.

“No darling, drink up. I would hate the thought of not having clenched your thirst.”, she purred in her heavy British accent and gave you a sinister smile. She put a finger under the stem of the glass forcing you to keep consuming the beverage.

Your mouth was filled to the brim with bitter sweet alcohol and you had to squint your eyes to concentrate on swallowing it without choking. You felt as the wine slipped passed your lips and dripped onto your chin, your neck, chest. You felt dirty and sticky, ashamed of the degenerate behavior she forced upon you.

As the glass emptied, she removed her finger and sat back on the chaise. You lowered the glass a bit out of breath and simply looked up at her.

“Tsk, you have made quite the mess, haven’t you?.”, she tutted and by an inch only, tilted her head to the side.

With her hand again, she reached for your lips. She held onto your chin gently as she, not so gently, cleaned your lips from the fruity wine. She halted when they were no longer dripping with fluids, still holding your face.

“Did you put this lipstick on for me?”

“Perhaps.”, you said it more nonchalantly than you intended to.

You made eye contact.

“Cheeky today, aren’t we? Can’t possibly be the wine already.”

She flowingly glided her sight back to your mouth. Suddenly she drove her thumb over your lips once more, only this time it wasn’t an act of assistance.

She pressed hard onto your soft pillows and slid onto the skin around them. You knew by the adhesive feeling on your chin that she was smearing your lipstick around your mouth.

You felt a drop of arousal slip onto your inner thigh, not to mention the aching of your sweet places, as she abused your lips.

With no forewarning she pushed two of her long manicured fingers past your lips.

Her mouth fell slightly agape as the sight of your mouth enclosed around her fingers settled in her mind. You didn’t push her away or turn your head, you complied with a muffled squeak as you felt her pointer and index finger press down onto your tongue.

“That’s it, suck.”

You didn’t know if it was the effect of the alcohol or your complete devotion to her, probably both, but an urge to satisfy her took over you.

You gently grabbed her hand. You licked between her fingers and sucked the pads of them with your teeth biting softly at their tip. You began to suck her fingers with a desire to please, it showed.

Brave.

You started sucking harder, sloppier. Your eyebrows knit together and a whine escaped your throat when she started rocking them back and forth, parading the ministrations that would usually take place further south.

Oh please. More! I can't much longer!

You were lost in her trance and you never wanted to wake. You looked up at her and the sight could have killed you. Her eyes were black, only a rim of turquoise surrounding them and they looked as if she saw right into the atoms of your bones. Your soul. Her mouth took deep open breaths, her bottom lip getting trapped by her teeth and tongue.

She pulled her fingers from your mouth and cupped your face with both of her hands. After a drawn out thirst filled look, she collided her lips with yours. You dropped the empty glass in your hands and it collided with the carpet right in front of you, hurriedly gripping her muscular biceps. Once more you got to taste her flavors. But this time, she tasted of the finest wine and the simple, divine taste her own saliva had to offer. She devoured your mouth with her much bigger one. She sucked and loved and bit and claimed it as no one else could.

She pulled your face up, hinting you to stand up from your sitting position. The possessiveness her tongue showed had you crying into the deep sloppy kisses, as you went to stand. The task was found to be harder than expected.

As soon as your legs tried to show strength and hold your weight they gave under from the missing blood in your calves, caused by the cut blood circulation.

“Hmph!” you exclaimed into your lovers mouth as your knees hit the ground again with a harsh thud.

Ms. Weems pulled back to look at you with a faint smirk, “Already weak in the knees I see, and all from a kiss?”

“How utterly pitiful, my dear”

“I’m sorry Ms. Weems I-I can’t see…”

“Don’t worry dear,”, she took ahold of the underside of your arms steadying you, as you for a second time tried to stand. You succeeded, the hold of her strong hands being your biggest support.

“I’ll take care of you now, sweetings. Come here,”, She patted her lap, prodding you to take a seat. She guided you around the chaise until you stood right in front of her.

An owner and her devoted pet.

She turned your limping form around and placed her hands on the curve of your hips. Her touch on your hips felt like the dirtiest of sins, yet it was so gentle and tender, so how could this feeling within you ever be considered a transgression of the godly?

She pulled you down onto her thick soft thighs, half exposed by the tight gray skirt that attached itself to her dress. You leaned back against her and as your head collided with her shoulder, your legs on either side of hers, the full weight of your body trusting her with the most sacred and intimate parts of yourself. There were no longer any restraints strong enough to hold Larissa back.

She buried her nose in your long, loose hair. It cascaded on, now, both of your shoulders, and she inhaled the flowery scent of your shampoo, the tint of your own skins smell evident as well.

She glided her left hand up your sticky, red torso and found its way towards your breast, her other hand still firmly holding the meat of your hips.

“Oh, oh please.”, you pleaded with closed eyes and a scrunched face as your head rested on her shoulder. Half dizzy of her, half dizzy of the alcohol filled beverage.

She took a look at your form from underneath her. Her eyes found the way down the heaving valley of your breasts, over your soft stomach and navel, all the way down to the black mound of curly hairs between your cream thighs.

She pinched your now fully erect nipples, purposely making you twist and writhe above her.

“Touch me, I need your touch please!”, You had abandoned all propperness and decorum.

Make me feel you, please please please

“Oh but I am, silly girl.” grabbing the entirety of your ample flesh, she groped and violated your breast with vigor.

“I n-need more- oh - more.”

She starts moving her hand on your hip to a slow pace, rutting you against her thighs.

“How greedy you have become, hmm,” She snaked the hand once on your breast up to hold onto your neck. Your chest rose and arched away from her while your head continued to rest on her shoulder.

“P-Please”, you slurred as the delirious feeling of her hand on your throat tightened. You definitely noticed the effect of the alcohol, but in some strange way it made your sensations spur and the tingles of fire in your skin lit up as if gasoline had been cast over them.

Her other hand made its way from the guiding of your hips to the faint showing muscle of your stomach.

Lower

Low… Oh!

Cold fingers circled your tight and tension filled bud. You let a single gasp out, but quickly it turned into mewls and moans of pleadings and joy.

“Like this? Is this what you want, darling. Tell me, tell me it’s the pleasurable touch of my hands you crave.”

“Y-Yes! It’s you - it’s you I c-crave Ms.Weems.”

She had gathered some slick from your, as well sticky, entrance and had pinched your clitoris. She chuckled into your hair as you squealed in white pain and red desire from her doings.

She then traveled further, further than ever before. Two fingers began to massage the outer muscles of your vagina. She started to nip at your neck, just a simple few nips here and there, slowly becoming kisses that traveled from the back of your ear to the base of your neck, as she slowly sank her fingers deeper and deeper into your womanhood.

“Well done, lamb, there you go. look at me”, she began to pump her fingers. Your mind saw nothing but a cheshire grin as you prepared yourself to open your eyes. You looked up at her as if you gazed upon divinity.

The pace of her fingers quickened and the feeling of her sliding in and out of you were something you couldn’t put into words. Maybe the best way to describe it was death, yes death. That would be it.

She started whispering things into your ear. Like a siren she sang her songs to you and hypnotized you to see stars align.

That's it, dear

Mine now

You’re perfect, Y/n

Ah, such a good girl

Louder Y/N

Who owns you?

Harder? Oh but I’ll break you, dear

Let go for me

And you did.

You had never experienced more energy consuming acts of the mind and body before, resulting in your spent body slumping against her and tears rolling down your face.

“Ah, sh sh.” she cooed.

The headmistress turned your body so her arm rested behind your neck and the rest of your body supported by the softly cushioned chaise. The flames of the fire warmed your numb skin. The hold of your lover warmed you even more.

Larissa tenderly sweeped the wet hairs away from your forehead and gave it a kiss.

“Sleep my girl. My sweet Y/n.”, and you did.

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

Taglist:

@ladybathoryy

#larissa weems #larissa x reader #gwendolineuniverse #gwendoline christie #lesbian yearning #wlw #wlw smut #wlw fanfic #writers on tumblr #female writers #the yellow birdy #wednesday netflix #principal weems #fanfiction ideas #fanfiction writer

211 notes · View notes

musicoftheheart · 6 months

Text

this is going to a very niche audience but if any marauders fan has read the shapeshifter series by ali sparkes, thoughts on an au???

remus as dax obv, sirius as gideon, james as barry (bc invisibility cloak??) and then maybe lily and marlene both taking on a mix of mia and lisa. peter as clive too i reckon. snape as spook (and then tie in his friendship with lily as spook's friendship/romantic interest in mia!!)

book 1 with dumbledore being the villain (as the og headmaster, i dont remember his name but the guy who charms people) then minnie (as the lovely french teacher) stepping in as headmistress (she might also have to take on owen's role too bc i cant think of who else could tbh)

OR poppy being owen because the bond she and remus have is so perfect as owen and dax, then have minnie take on the role that tyrone has in one of the later books

then book 2 bringing in regulus as luke and he and james bond over the fact sirius is too busy with family member 3 (i was thinking maybe bellatrix as catherine even though theyre cousins not siblings, but she gives the vibes yk)

i could 100% write this once i finish my current wips and include all six books plus the spinoff series unleashed. if yall wanna know more please say i could talk about it forever

#marauders era #mauraders #the shapeshifter #ali sparkes #remus lupin #dax jones #james potter #sirius black #gideon reader #peter pettigrew #lily evans #marlene mckinnon #regulus black

15 notes · View notes

sl-newsie · 1 year

Text

Spelled (Carlos de Vil x Sanderson Daughter) Descendants 2- Ch. 2: Welcome Back

Ok, fine. I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t want to go to the Cotillion. I mean, even antisocial outcast witches need to party once in a while, right?

So I’ve made my decision. I’m surprising them by heading over today!

“I don’t know when I’ll be back, just keep the mice out.” I say my last goodbyes to Binx as I finish packing a small bag. I’d use a transportation spell or my broom, but that’d be too eye-catching.

“Don’t worry, this place will be safe with me. After watching over your mother’s house for 300 years I’ve definitely had practice of guarding. Go have fun and be a normal girl for once!”

“Bye bye!” I wave and start making my way through the thick, dark woods…

The school looks almost the exact same, with the exception of a few new banners announcing the upcoming cotillion. If it weren’t for a nearby poster I wouldn’t remember that I’m a convict. It shows my face sneering an evil smile and says: Beware! Wanted: Magica Sanderson, evil witch. If sighted please report to Headmistress Fairy Godmother immediately! Huh. On the bright side, my picture doesn’t look half-bad. Students are buzzing around everywhere, so to avoid getting caught I slip on my invisibility cloak and creep through the gardens.

Once I’ve slipped through the front door to the dorm housing then it’s all smooth sailing straight to Evie and Mal’s room. And just in time: Chad just left and in doing so left the door open! I don’t miss a beat and quickly slide in to find Evie and Doug holding hands. Aw, they finally got together!

“So do you think this dress seems a bit bland, or maybe I should touch it up a little?” I look over Evie's shoulder at the purple dress she’s referencing. It’s a gorgeous Victorian one with a purple and black pattern, long sleeves, and a hood attached to the back.

Grinning underneath my cloak, I turn and say: “It gets my approval!”

“Oh!” Evie jumps in surprise and turns around with wide eyes. “Magica? You came!” She tugs me into a hug. “It’s so good to see you! Does this mean you’re going to cotillion?”

“Yes,” I wheeze out, almost unable to breathe. I give Doug a wave. “Hey.”

He waves back and smiles. “Hey, lab partner! I’ve missed you!”

“So you won’t tell anyone I’m here? You don’t think I’m a wicked witch?” I’m only half-joking.

Doug chuckles and shakes his head. “Nah, you’re not wicked. Maybe a bit over-dramatic when it comes to studying but nobody’s perfect.”

“How’s chemistry been going? From the looks of things I’d say you and Evie’s chemistry looks vibrant as ever!”

Evie seems to ignore my comment and starts showing me her sketchbook, which is full of more designs and patterns than I could ever imagine!

“So for you I’m thinking purple and black, like the one you approved earlier. Something sleek but elegant. You’re going to be a cakewalk compared to Chad. We just got done with his cotillion fitting.” Evie rolls her eyes. “I swear his head can not get any bigger!”

I nod. “On a different note, you got your own room?” I take a better look at the racks of fabric and giant sewing machine.

“Yes! FG approved that I get a private room so I can run my business! But enough of that. Everyone’s going to be so surprised when they see you! Especially Carlos, he really misses you.”

I hang my head in shame. “I really miss him too. But I’ve gotta figure out my own problems before I let him get dragged into them too.”

Evie and Doug look at each other, and I’m unsure what they’re thinking.

“Magica, Carlos doesn’t think you’re a burden,” Evie says softly. “He wants to help, and spend time with you. And you better tell him how you feel soon, because-”

There’s a knock on the door and we all freeze. Instinctively I grab my invisible cloak and throw it on, dashing off to hide in the corner. In mere seconds the door opens, revealing Jay and Mal- with blonde hair?

“Hello, everyone,” Jay gives a dramatic bow. “Just wanted to check in to see how things are going, plus Mal needs some encouragement for her date with Ben later.”

Mal twirls a piece of blonde locks in her fingers. “I know I shouldn’t be nervous, but trying to stay the ‘perfect Auradon girl’ is really getting to me.”

Wait, what? Why is she doing that?

Evie and Doug exchange playful smiles.

“Well, if it’s encouragement you’re looking for, how about a positivity spell?” Evie asks.

Mal rolls her eyes. “Evie, you know I don't do so well with positive magic. And Magica’s at least an hour away-”

“Or mere seconds!” I jump out and touch Mal and Jay’s backs, causing them to scream.

“Trixie?” Jay starts laughing his head off and pats my shoulder. “Jeez, you still got it! It’s nice to see ya!”

I cackle wickedly and “I see you guys all got new looks! But Mal, why blonde? I thought I was the one who’s supposed to try to look normal!”

“Uh, I'm trying to look a bit more normal to fit in and impress Ben. But between trying to go non-magic and being bombarded by reporters, I’m so close to bursting! I mean, ‘do you like being blonde?’ ‘is your mother still a lizard?’ What kind of questions are those?! ”

“Really? Just how much TV have you gotten yourself into?”

Mal cringes and goes to snack on a bowl of strawberries on Evie’s desk. “I can’t go a single moment without getting my picture taken.”

“Ooh, yikes! So glad I’m not caught up in that mess! But it is good to catch up with you guys- I’ve missed you. Also if I had known you’re still obsessed with strawberries then I would have brought some as a cotillion gift.”

Jay checks his watch and sighs. “Sorry trixie, but I’ve gotta go meet up with Carlos for fencing practice.”

My face freezes and I start following Jay out the door. “Oh! Right. Please tell him to meet up with me when-”

“Magica?” Carlos asks from down the hall in a stunned tone.

“Carlos!” A smile spreads over my face as I rush up to the freckled VK. “Surprised?”

“I- I’m surprised! What- what are you doing here?”

Huh? He’s one of the people who invited me here.

My smile falters. “For… cotillion?”

Carlos frowns. “Really? I didn’t think you’d really come. B- But it’s really good to see you!”

He gets new-found energy and gives me a soft hug. Then, Dude rushes out of Carlos’ room at the sound of all the commotion, licking and pawing at my skirt.

“Hello to you too, handsome! Yes, yes, I missed you too!” I laugh and kneel down to pet my furry friend. “Hey Carlos, has Evie interrogated you about cotillion yet? She’s already planning my dress!”

Carlos suddenly gets an anxious look and starts acting… skittery? “Actually, um, about that… I’ve been thinking about asking Jane to the cotillion.”

Snap! Something inside me breaks and sends my head spinning, and I have to lean against the hallway wall. I close my eyes, and I’m spiraling. Just like predicting the future. My purple flames spreading everywhere, people pushing me away, being alone… No one could ever love a Sanderson witch.

“Oh! Oh… right.” I plaster on a smile and laugh nervously. “Um, wow! Congratulations, Carlos! Really, I- I’m so proud! Um, excuse me I need to go find Evie!”

Carlos tries to say something else but I rush past back down the hall. “Um, ok- I’ve gotta get to fencing practice. See you later!”

Spiraling, spiraling, spiraling…

I burst into Evie’s room and am thankful to find it’s only her and no one else. She sees my distraught face and immediately gets up from her desk.

“That’s why you warned me. That’s why you meant when you said I should tell him how I feel… Because now he’s moved on to someone else!” I let out a loud roar and kick a chair, flames already starting to crawl up my arms.

“Ok calm down, calm down-” Evie holds her hands up trying to get me to settle down.

“No! How can you expect me to calm down when my true love is- is- forgetting me? Abandoning me? Just- letting me go?”

“No, no,” Evie keeps a steady tone and takes my hand.

I stiffen. “Better let go, or else I might singe your hand into a pile of ash.”

“I’m not afraid, unlike most people here. I want you to know that Carlos does love you, he really does. At least, I think so-”

“You think so?” I rip my hand away and start pacing back and forth, counting in my head. “One two three, one two three…”

Evie, having learned to stay out of my way, goes to sit at her desk. “Is counting your coping skill?”

In my rage I allow a smirk. “In a way. Only instead of counting numbers, I’m counting how many times people have betrayed me, let me down.” Willow, Audrey, Chad, Ben… Now Carlos. I’ll go easy on him, because I still love him. And I’ve forgiven Ben too, but I’ll never forget what people have done to me. I thought I’d come back to attend a party to congratulate my friends and see my true love, only to discover I’m being tossed aside again.

“You two should talk.”

I nod, still staring coldly at the wall and tears starting to drizzle down my face. “Yes. We definitely need to.”

#carlos de vil x reader #carlos de vil #descendants carlos #evie descendants #mal descendants #jay descendants #disney descendants #descendants #disney #ben descendants #audrey descendants #uma descendants #harry hook descendants #binx hocus pocus #hocus pocus #sarah sanderson #winifred sanderson #mary sanderson #doug descendants

8 notes · View notes

moonlightreal · 2 years

Text

Fate season 2-2

Episode two: Taken by the Wind… hey! they’re not doing poetry titles anymore! I’m not sure what the previous title had to do with the episode, let’s see if this one makes more sense!

Terra is out looking for herbs to help poor Devin who was chewed on by a Something. She’s talking by bluetooth or magic to her brother, who says their dad won’t let her help.

Try and stop her, Terra is the stealth badass of this show.

Also my theory is that the Somethings are adult forms to the thingy Rosalind stuck on Stella to mess up her magic, the jewel with legs. I think it’s some kind of baby magic-eating creature and Rosalind is experimenting with grownup ones. She’s kidnapping the least skilled students for her experiments so maybe she’s hoping to drain magic from them and power up the more skilled students she’s building into her Sith army to supposedly take down something scarier than both Burned Ones and Somethings, because sometime in the past she saw a group of people become complacent and get murderized by monsters. Maybe just in her war against the Burned Ones before, but maybe farther back. I get the vibe that they’re playing Rosalind as being Really Freaking Ancient, but not sure why I get that vibe.

So how’s my theory? We’ll see.

Good heavens Ireland has moss and it’s amazing. These locations are just stunning. And someone is watching Terra! She summons vines, that just come slithering from offscreen, and flowers open on the vines! We saw this in the trailer, it’s Flora! Who is very pretty and has dark curly hair. Casting succeeded in picking a Latina girl but failed at making her look like the Flora we know and love. (Because the whitewashing is coming from inside the house! But that’s a topic others have talked about plenty so I don’t need to.)

Flora has arrived with suitcases to move into the suite! Which makes me wonder what all the students’ parents thought about the sudden change in leadership. None of them think Rosalind is maybe bonkers and they shouldn’t send their children to this school now?

Flora’s parents are horticulture research fellows which messes up my “science was never discovered here” headcanon, and she and Terra are “second cousins by marriage” lampshading why they don’t look more alike. Flora brought coffee! Musa and Bloom are helping unpack and Aisha is hanging around, and this is as happy as we’ve seen the group. Stella is of course not here. Bloom says they have a “new and extremely questionable headmistress” so maybe parents don’t know, and that Devin said Rosalind’s name before he passed out, so they know Rosalind is involved with the missing students. Musa mentions that only one of them actually saw Devin… meaning that maybe Stella lied about him saying Rosalind’s name? Or they think she lied? Stella is a quite awful person, but…

I keep treating this show like it’s about friends working together to take down evil, because that’s what I expect it to be about. That’s what Winx Club is about. So all the suspicion and just, nastiness, from the girls just bugs me so much because gets in the way of getting on with the story. But maybe this is a show about jerkish teenagers having drama, not friends taking down evil and it’s actually a good show I’m just in the wrong theater.

Meanwhile in Stella’s room she’s calling her mother. And props to the props people, they set Stella’s room up with a nice little sofa and pillows, a steamer trunk, a fancy bed and a very cool painting of a dark mysterious figure standing among misty trees. And this sun mirror.

Stella is trying to get her mother to not make her share a room. Flora of course comes in to overhear this and sympathizes, but says, “You’ll barely notice me. I can be invisible” which is just twisting the knife for poor Stella.

Terra in her too-needy way hopes everyone likes Flora. Aisha is texting with Grey. Terra says Flora “seems like the quiet one but she definitely does her own thing.” Bloom says they need to be twice as careful since Rosalind’s completely out for blood after Silva got away.

And over in Rosalind’s office Andreas is reporting in. They searched the river, no body. He escaped. Rosalind hurts him with magic as punishment but Beatrix was listening from the other room with her air magic and she brings in some documents just in time to interrupt the torture. Andreas makes his getaway but all B had was reports showing Silva couldn’t have escaped without help. Which Rosalind goes “thank you captain obvious.” But before Beatrix ends up in the hotseat Bloom shows up for her magic lesson.

Cut to the greenhouse infirmary where Terra is bandaging the hand of a very pretty specialist girl, with dark skin and a heavy Irish accent. Pretty specialist just broke up with her girlfriend and is now available for shipping! So, does Terra swing both ways?

Over in the greenhouse part Flora has been ordered to make an inventory. Of potion ingredients I presume. And Riven is chatting her up while trying to help. Terra comes over and hands Riven a suitcase for Rosalind and she’s careful to tell Riven none of the plants in it are “fun.” Flora says Riven’s cute and Terra says, “He’s got a girlfriend and a boyfriend and extremely toxic tendencies.”

Flora also seems to have rearranged every plant in the greenhouse while she’s been here.

Outside Riven and Sky prepare to spar and Riven says what a “smoke show” Flora is. Sky is not interested. All he wants to do is spar one-on-two with his shirt off! Not swords this time, it’s hand to hand. Also without his shirt you can see the specialists carry throwing knives in basically a… butt sheath? So the handles stick up just above the top of his pants all the way in the back. Anyway Sky defeats two others in unarmed. Andreas watches without interest then goes to talk to Dane. And gives Dane a shove, so he must be annoyed.

Riven asks Sky if he can have the room so he and Dane can smoke to calm down, then says he’ll give Sky a turn alone anytime he and Bloom want to hook up. Which they haven’t. Riven teases Sky about worrying he might “burn his peepee off” doing it with a fire fairy. It’s friendly teasing, the whole encounter is very nice-Riven.

I usually laugh at people who say shows are sexualizing our kids, but these “sixteen year old” characters played by twentysomething year old actors who do sex and drugs… s’weird, ok? Why not a college with characters the same age as the actors?

Bloom is reading a Ye Olde text about “the Company of Light rained Hellfire on the Army of Darkness” and “Marion” summoning a shadow power. Huh. So Bloom’s other mom is in Fate too! And summoning shadow powers because nobody is ever not doing questionable things in this show. But Rosalind is called away and Bloom takes the opportunity to snoop in her desk! Yay Bloom!

Rosalind’s office includes chair, table and lampshade with the Alfea logo stenciled on them, a display cabinet full of things suspended in liquid, and a wine glass so Rosalind can drink on the job. Bloom takes a quick rummage and finds a leatherbound book! Written in what looks like Norse runes crammed together into sigils used as letters. I suppose one could write that way, combining the runes of all the letters in a word together and hoping the reader could guess what order the letters were supposed to go in. And there’s a picture of a Something! It’s a worm with a lamprey mouth and four petals around the mouth, like a reaper leviathan. Bloom whips out her phone and photographs as many pages as she can before Rosalind comes back.

But Rosalind catches her standing by the desk! Rosalind seems to know Bloom was in her desk but then Bloom asks what attacked Devin and then shifts to asking why they’re reading old books instead of training. Rosalind says Bloom would be more powerfulk if she knew where she came from, and when Bloom isn’t sure Rosalind says of course she would, “It’s always better to know more.” and on that Rosalind and I agree. But Rosalind does know Bloom was snooping so she makes some vague threats and sends Bloom back to reading about the “First Dominion.”

Later, outside, Bloom updates her friends on what she saw. The critter in the picture has a mouth that matches the damage to Devin! They’re also on the phone with Silva and Sebastian over at the store. Sebastian sort of recognizes the language but he’ll need help to translate it. Conveniently they might be able to find something helpful in the Alfea library but conveniently Rosalind has closed it while she “weeds out inaccurate propaganda.”

Stella: “Always a good sign when a leader controls access to books.”

Also how do the students at this still functioning school do their research without a library? Is the magical internet that good?

Anyway Silva had a house off-campus and he has books there, so Bloom can sneak and get one.

In the infirmary Musa is reading Devin’s mind but can’t get any information. Terra says they need to wake him up and find out what happened. She says her family needs a win, things aren’t going good for them. Even with Flora here. Terra says Flora “doesn’t always simplify things.”

Flora comes in and suggests Eldwyn root, which is not a real plant. They did try it, but Flora knows a compound. Terra and Musa go off to class, leaving Flora very obviously about to mix her own medicine for Devin and cause trouble.

Back in the shop Silva draws up a map to his house and Sebastian says Sky will come around, he’s watched 90s sitcoms so he knows about families. Earth sitcoms I assume. Does the Otherworld have sitcoms?

Before I can start that again, here comes Andreas! Sebastian shoves Silva out of sight as Andreas enters the shop wearing his sword on his back. Andreas says some threatening things then smashes Sebastian’s face through a glass cabinet! Yikes! Andreas opens the door where Silva’s hiding, but thanks to magic it’s just a cupboard. He sees the map, makes another threat, and heads out.

Bloom and Sky are sitting outside studying but actually brooding. Bloom says she has to go to Silva’s house, which is of course where Sky was raised. Hesays he’ll take her.

They drive through gorgeous County Wicklow. The Otherworld has powerlines, so fairy society did discover electricity. Unless they transmit magic. The house is set under a sloping cliff, out of the forest. Bloom is just as bowled over by the scenery as I am and she and Sky have a cute exchange about how she wants to frolic and Sky says she should, so she runs off whooping. They find a herd of wild horses and Bloom asks Sky if he ever tried to ride them. They are not in fact wild, they’re Silva’s little herd. He’s got like six or seven.

They take a ride. Money shot, drone footage, the two of them riding a white horse through the beautiful green land.

Back at Alfea Stella is not having such a good time. The barrier won’t let her pass. And it hurts if she tries to get through. Stella is stuck! Beatrix shows up and is faintly sympathetic about the “princess stuck in a castle, only you’re torturing yourself trying to get out.” but she’s looking for Sky. She thinks maybe he busted Silva out. But Stella saw sky that day so, “To quote another tortured prinbcess, just let it go.”

So Frozen was imported to the Otherworld.

Stella also gives B a few words about, “maybe Andreas just isn’t that great” and “it sucks when parents don’t live up to your expectations, I’ve been there.”

Clothing aside: Stella and Bloom are both wearing belly-baring shirts under jackets this episode. Is this how the designers are trying to make the fashion more Winxish? The Winx did wear tony tops for quite a few seasons. Beatrix in this scene is wearing a beret with a sheer veil over it and it’s super cute.

Then we go to… class! Students take classes at this school! Occasionally. It’s potions class and all the desks are piled with so much chemistry glassware that no more would fit. The girls are catching Flora up on how Stella’s ex is now Bloom’s boyfriend. Apparently this is weird. And Musa being with Terra’s brother, also supposedly weird. And aisha’s been texting Grey. Terra is not comfortable with this conversation. So, does Flora just roll in and bring the drama? Is that what terra loves her but is wary of what she’ll get up to? Maybe because Flora now wants to find a “scandal-worthy hookup” for Terra. Also flora already knows what the class was teaching and also wrote down the “Eldwyn amalgam” she thinks can wake up Devin. Flora is extremely keen on this; Terra needs to give it some more thought.

Musa and Aisha run into Grey in the hall and Musa leaves the two alone together. They talk swimming and Greyv says he’d like to hang out. They admit they like each other but Aisha sensibly says she’s got a lot going on. So she turns Grey down.

Bloom and Sky have finished their ride. Bloom hugs Sky and teases him about having horse figurines, no, rainbow horse posters. Then sky says they have to get back and Bloom says they didn’t getv the text. Sky doesn’t want to go into the house so bloom walks over alone. Far away from sky who will not be able to save her when whatever is going to happen happens.

Back at school Rosalind checks on Devil with a browbeaten Ben Harvey behind her. Devin hasn’t woken up so Rosalind wants to move him to a better hospital tomorrow. It is also revealed that Ben suggested they check with Sebastian about finding Silva. Ben is clearly capable of anything to protect his children, including betrayal.

When they leave Sam walks in through the wall. He heard everything.

Beatrix and her two dudes lounge in bed. Then the boys get a text, there’s a lead on Silva. The boys head off leaving Beatrix to snooze in Riven’s bed. But she gets up to snoop in Sky’s side of the room. And Riven comes back and catches her! He’s annoyed… which makes me wonder how on-opposite-sides does Riven think they are? How much does sky think they are? Beatrix says she needs to know who helped Silva, for Andreas’ sake. She’s worried about her dad, probably worried Rosalind will kill him. These villains have a strange teamwork. Riven assures her it wasn’t Sky but when she asks if he saw anything he doesn’t answer. Subtle, Riv, she definitely won’t torture you or anything later.

Bloom successfully got into the house, it’s dark and shadowy and has photos of a young Sky playing a guitar and in a karate gi. So karate exists in this world. Maybe a portal crossover in ancient times, an old teacher of martial arts wandered into the Otherworld and taught his craft…

Bloom opens a bookcase full of the kind of clothbound books you can get for a dollar each at library sales and finds the bright red “A Study of Ancient Languages.” She texts the group and decides to check out Sky’s room. Medals. Photo of Silva with baby Sky. Guitar. Sky comes in and says it’s a shrine to his “untouchable hero dad” meaning Silva, who became not a hero once Sky found out what Silva had done.

But now that Sky has met Andreas and realized he’s an awful person who puts Rosalind first and dumped Sky to raise Beatrix..? Come on Sky.

Sky also talks about learning terrible things and not looking anymore, “not wanting to be defined by some horrible revelation about where you came from.” and Bloom says he’s not defined by Andreas. he’s defined by what he does.

And then things get smoochy and they have sex in Sky’s bed.

Back at school it’s dark in the courtyard. Soldiers patrol. Sam is very tense. Musa uses mind magic on him and he says they should go somewhere quiet. They pick the potions classroom and Sam immediately is kissing Musa and saying it’s not a big deal. She de-worried him and the next thing on his mind was horniness! Musa, you should maybe be asking before you de-worry people. I mean, it’d be great, please de-worry me from the ten essays I gotta write, but ethics and consent, maybe?

They’re not alone! Terra is still at her desk working out the recipe Flora gave her. It could wake Devin up, but it could also kill him.

And Flora has just mixed up a batch and given it to Devin! The poor guy wakes up and Flora shoves a phone in his face asking if that’s the critter that got him. He says it is then goes into convulsions and starts hallucinating. Terra rushes in and asks where the antidote is, but Flora didn’t know there was an antidote. Terra vines Devin to the bed so he won’t hurt himself but that gives him a flashback to being experimented on. He breaks free and attacks Flora, saying his magic is gone! Terra gets him off Flora, but he runs off.

Musa and Sam are searching, Terra texted everybody. Musa wants to tell mr. Harvey but Sam says he might tell Rosalind. Aisha comes around the corner and Sam freaks, thinking she’s a soldier. Musa de-worries him again. And Aisha calls her on it. Musa says everyone needs it sometimes, which is true. But ask first.

Bloom and Sky snuggle in their love nest. Bloom’s phone goes off but they don’t want to know. Then a car drives up! Better get dressed quick!

Stella and Beatrix are drinking Rosalind’s booze in her office. B says they’re safe since Rosalind is in the east wing every night. Beatrix wants to earn Rosalind’s trust to find out what’s going on in there.

Why is Stella there? What made her think hangin’ with the baddie’s girl-minion is a good idea? How did they end up here? Did Beatrix find Stella and invite her? Stella does give Beatrix some love advice, saying Riven really cares about B and it’s ok to care back. Beatrix isn’t interested in caring. Then Devin bursts in!

Flora is frantically mixing the antidote. Her parents told her about how tough things are with Rosalind taking over and Flora came to help Terra. So this is how Flora doesn’t simplify things, she wants to help and goes off half-cocked..

Sky and Bloom escape into a secret hiding place under the floorboards! That was lucky! Andreas looks around then gets a call from Rosalind. Devin escaped! There are more people held captive in the lab! Andreas sees a photo of himself with baby Sky and pockets it, then goes outside and tells Riven and Dane to burn down the house. Two non-fire fairies so they have to use gasoline.

Bloom and Sky climb out of their hiding place into an inferno. But Bloom is a fire fairy. they’re fine.

Not so the rest of the gang plus Beatrix, they’re facing off with Devin in the office. Terra goes to administer the antidote but then Rosalind arrives. Devin holds a spike to her throat and demands to know what she did to him. Rosalind reads his mind and finds out Flora woke him up. Then she kills him with magic because of course.

Sky’s childhood possessions go up in flames. Bloom holds a clear circle around herself and Sky.

Ben Harvey returns to the greenhouse and tells Sam he had to beg to keep Terra from getting expelled, but maybe it would have been better if she had been. Sam says the problem is Rosalind. Ben goes off to fix the damage Devin caused. Sam throws some things into a pack, then grabs a green glowing vial… more of the wakeup potion?

This has to be tough for Ben. His two comrades for the past fifteen years are gone, and his two comrades from before that have returned but they’re horrible people. It’s hard to imagine the three teachers working with Rosalind and Andreas if they were the murderhobos they are now; I have to assume that being imprisoned/in hiding changed them. Now Ben’s kids are in danger from his former friends. Yikes.

Stella! She uses illusion magic to make the pages of the translation book float in the air giant size so everyone can compare the symbols. Sebastian is watching through a video call. Stella says it’s too dangerous to leave campus after Rosalind killed Devin.

They figure it out, and I’m right! There’s a spell to summon the critters and they store magic. Devin lost his magic because the creature stole it. Rosalind is stealing magic from fairies for herself.

In Rosalind’s office Andreas, Dane and Riven are getting punished for not finding Silva. It’s also strange that Rosalind just merrily tortures Andreas, who has been her willing puppet for years. To make the current torture stop Beatrix speaks up, saying Riven knows something but won’t say what. Beatrix tries to communicate “I just didn’t want her to hurt you any more right now” but now of course Riven is in for more torture!

Back in their room Sky comes out of the shower topless. Is this like Thor where he has to bare his chest in every movie? But Silva has snuck in to see him! Aaaand, episode ends!

#fate the winx saga

4 notes · View notes

ms-starflower · 3 years

Text

Young Survivors — Maribat

It’s almost four am here, I just finished writing this and am just tired enough to actually go through and post it. And this title is the only thing my tired brain could come up with. Anyway. I haven't posted something I wrote in years, but all the Maribat I’ve read recently made me want to write something for it.

I don’t know if I’m ever going to write a 2 part, but if I do it’s definitely going to be Timari and contain a couple of typical Maribat tropes. And a pinch of salt.

Also, disclaimer: I haven't watched Miraculous in years and most of my DC knowlege come from fanfic or tumblr so... sorry not sorry.

Now with a part 2!

Next >

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mei Leyton’s oldest memories were of her mother, dolled up in pretty dresses and elegant makeup. In her daughter‘s eyes, Margaret Leyton was the most beautiful woman on earth.

For as long as she could remember, Mei would sit on the bed and watch as her mom would get ready to head to work. She had always loved those moments with her mom.

(How do I look, my little flower,” she said, twirling around Mei with a grin, making her laugh. It was Margaret’s favorite dress, a vintage halter blue dress with white accents and a white bow around the waist.

“Like a princess, mommy! The prettiest princess ever!”

“Oh no, no no no. You are the prettiest princess ever, my little flower.”)

She was four when her mother let her help for the first time, letting her pass along brushes and products. It’s then that she understood what were the purple marks on her mother that she covered with her makeup.

(“Life is not fair to us, my little flower,” she had said when Mei asked about it for the first time. “Being an orphan and pretty little girl in Gotham isn’t safe, and it doesn’t give much choice when it comes to survival.”

Mei didn’t understand then, but it didn’t matter anyway, life would make her understand soon enough.)

When Mei was seven, the GCPD found her mother’s body.

When she didn’t see her that morning, Mei hadn’t been worried; it wasn’t the first time. Mom would be home by noon, she always was. Until that day.

(The investigation wouldn’t get very far, it was just another prostitute of Camellia street, nobody cared about them. They were just there until they weren’t anymore.

Another girl would take her place in a couple of days. It was how those kinds of things worked in Gotham.)

That day was kind of blurry in her memory. She remembers being pulled out of class in the morning, and that the cop that told her about her mother’s death was very rude.

(“Your mom is dead, kid. A lad found her body in a dumpster this morning,” the guy had said as soon as she had sat down in the headmistress’ office. “Do you know who she worked for? Or on what side of the Camellia she stayed?” He had asked, halfheartedly.

Mei had shaken her head, even though she did; you don’t talk to cops in Gotham, mom always says said that it was the easiest way to get yourself killed, for people like them.

“Alright,” he had said, not surprised. “A social worker is going to pick you up in a bit to take you to your new home, kid.”

With that he had walked out of the office, not looking back. As if where she would end up was going to be home.)

She remembers that the social worker from CPS was a brunette with tan skin, and looked really overworked, but had a kind smile.

By the end of the day, she was taken to Elliot's Hall for Children, an overcrowded, understaffed orphanage with more kids than they could realistically care for.

(They don’t care for the children, they just put them there for a while and act as they do. Most children leave after a couple of days, and if they don’t, they get taken anyway.

Some come back with a police escort, some manage to survive in the streets, and nobody talks about the ones that are never seen again.

You don’t work there because you love children, and if you do, you don’t last for very long.)

Mei wasn’t stupid, her mother told her stories about those kinds of places. She came from those kinds of places, and Mei saw how the man in charge here had looked at her when the social worker dropped her off.

She wasn’t going to just stand here and wait for him to sell her back in Camellia street. Or worse, to the Candy Dealers.

Taking with her what she absolutely couldn’t leave behind, Mei made a choice her mother hadn’t been able to and took her chance with the streets.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mei was a Camellia kid and, as such, took to the streets easier than most newcomers. She had picked up a few tricks from her aunties and her mom, and it helped her to survive out here.

The only (glaring) differences were the absence of her mother, the lack of a permanent roof above her head, and the fact that she had to provide food and money herself now.

(One of her favorite places to pick up wallets was Gotham Academy, where Gotham’s rich send their children. The kids always had money on them, and it’s not like they would miss it.

Though she couldn’t go too many times in a row, not without risking being spotted and remembered.)

She had been on the streets for two months when she met Jason Todd; the boy who would become her family.

She heard him before she saw him, to be honest. It was an awful crashing noise coming from around the corner, and it made her look.

He was running like the devil was after him, and judging by how the cops running behind him were clutching their batons, she wasn’t that far from the truth.

The noises were because of a couple of trash cans the boy had spilled in their way to slow them down.

And he was coming her way.

Against her better judgment, she grabbed his arm when he passed in front of her, and pulled him behind her into her hideout. Quickly getting the plank of wood back in place, she put her hand on his mouth before he could say anything. With the dumpster in the alley, the entry was almost invisible from outside.

They stayed there as they heard the men pass in front of their hiding place, listening as they argued about where the boy could have disappeared before their voices faded completely.

They waited another couple of minutes before he removed the hand she still had on his mouth and crawled out of there.

“Thanks,” he muttered with a scowl. “I woulda’ve been just fine without help but… yeah, anyway.” Then he had started to walk in the direction he came from.

“Hey! Wait!” She said before she could think about it. “Are ya just gonna, like, go? Just like that?”

“Huh, yeah? What do ya want me to do?” He asked, looking back at her from above his shoulder without stopping his walk. “Stay to drink a cup of tea and talk about the weather?”

“Well.. no. But I just… I just wanna talk a bit, ya know?” She couldn’t really explain why she didn’t want him to leave yet, it’s not like he was the first street kid she had helped out. He just felt different, and somehow she knew he could become important to her.

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed before turning his head back to look forward. “The streets are not some daycare for princesses who want to make friends, kid.”

“Kid— hey, dumbass, you’re, like, ten years old! You’re a kid too! And I’m not a princess, I can survive alone just fine!” Before she knew it, she was walking behind him, the weird feeling forgotten for the offence his comment created. He looked back at her with a frown, before choosing to ignore her. Not letting that deter her, she rambled at him about all the ways why she wasn’t a kid any more than him.

“I thought you could survive alone?” He said, talking over her, when he realized that she wasn’t going to let him be.

“I can.”

“So why are ya following me? Tryin’ to drive me crazy?”

“Well, no. It’s just... that I can do it doesn't mean I want to.”

“Look, kid,” he said, ignoring her protest and talking over her, again. “You should just go back to whatever orphanage you came from, there is probably some nice little family who's gonna pick you up. Then you could make all the friends you want.”

“Like people actually adopt kids in this city. This is Gotham, you dummy, not ‘Annie’. Some rich white guy isn’t going to come and pick up children from the streets to make them live the Grand life.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” he growled out without pausing in his steps. “Still, you’re pretty enough, I’m sure some nice people would adopt you in a second if you let them.”

“Yeah, sure. Mom thought the same when she was a kid, and guess what? She started working on Camellia street when she was fourteen, but nobody asked her if she wanted to. Because she was pretty enough,” the little seven years old spat with venom, her eyes narrowed. The boy stopped walking, turning toward her with eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights. “Her best friend wasn’t, but mom said that she had the prettiest green eyes ever. When they found her body, she didn’t have eyes anymore, because some rich person paid to have pretty green eyes.”

“I— I didn’t—” he stuttered, eyes wide. With his scowl gone he looked so much younger, and Mei’s anger subdued. He wasn’t that much older than her, just a couple of years, maybe three or four, after all.

“It’s… okay, I guess. It’s Gotham. I just thought we both would have more chances to survive if we helped each other out. And, ya know, the company wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, but when they resumed walking he slowed down enough to let her walk beside him without almost-running.

“Great! So, Annie, where are we going now?” She said with a beaming smile, bursting into laughter at his indignation and protest against the nickname.

(“Can’t you stop calling me Annie already?! I told you my name’s Jason!”

“Nope, Annie.”

“Well, then, that makes you Sandy, doesn't it? Ya do follow me around like a stray puppy.”

“I’m not a dog— wait, hold on a minute! I knew you saw the movie! You liar!”)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was ten when her life was put upside down once again, in the worst of ways.

It took practically no time before Jason “Annie” Todd became her brother in all but blood, it took longer for Jason to admit it, and they spend almost three years surviving together, barring the occasional trip back to the Children's Houses.

Though, they always found each other a couple of days after they escaped from those places.

Sometimes, Jason would plan something that he needed to do alone. Because of course, he did.

(“It’s the best job, my plan is perfect. Don’t worry, it’s gonna be great Sandy!”

“Yeah, and why can’t I come?”

“It’s too dangerous! Plus, you need to stay here and keep our things safe!”

“Yeah, if you say so, Annie.”)

That day was one of those days.

He was gone for less than an hour when they found her.

The Candy Dealers.

Mei paled when she saw them, wearing their nice suits and overly sweet smile. They told her they were social workers, specializing in homeless children, and offered her a lollipop. Social workers in Gotham don’t give candy to the kids, even the nice ones, and she knew from her time in Camellia street that the lollipop was drugged.

(“Never, ever, take candy from a Candy Dealer, Mei. Do you understand me? Never,” her mother told her gravely. “They put bad stuff in them, and if you put it in your mouth, they will take you away from me. I couldn’t live without you in my life, my little flower.”)

She tried to run, even before the first one got his hand totally outstretched toward her. But her panic made her stumble, and she was no match for them.

She tried to kick, and scream, and bite, but soon she felt a pinch in her neck, and everything was black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next period of her life was one she tried very hard to forget. For months she was moved, her and dozens of other people, from containers to containers, warehouse to warehouse. Twice they were put in a boat, the containers staying closed for so long, the next time she saw the moonlight, it burned her eyes.

She quickly learned that it was pointless to try to escape (and that Jason wouldn’t come and save her).

Then, one night, the place they were at was illuminated with blue and red lights and the police sirens were so loud, they drowned everything else.

She didn’t let herself hope, though. (She did, she hoped so hard her chest hurt.)

They (probably) weren’t in Gotham anymore, but her childhood didn’t instill her much trust in the police.

They did get them out. And she learned that they were in Paris now. In France. (That was a long way from Gotham.)

There were twenty-seven other people with her in the container. Four of which were kids, and only one other was also an orphan. They weren’t placed together, though. Because the kid had family back where he came from. Unlike her. (She had Jason. He was her family, but they didn’t listen.)

The French social workers took a while to know what to do with her exactly, but they didn’t want to send her back to Gotham (why not? She wanted to go back and find Jason!). So, in the meantime, they placed her in a foster family—one without any other kid, as per her therapist's advice. (The therapist didn’t know anything. She said Gotham wasn’t good for her, but Jason was in Gotham.)

Funnily enough, it ended up being a more permanent solution than previously considered, because the foster parents, Tom and Sabine, quickly fell in love with the little girl.

Not before long, Mei Leyton became Marinette Dupain-Cheng. (They changed her name to give her a ‘new beginning’ because her therapist thought it would be good for her. She didn’t want to have a ‘new beginning', she wanted to go back, to find Jason, to be the Sandy to his Annie. She was Mei, the Camellia’s kid, Sandy, the street’s kid and it was enough for her. She didn’t want to be Marinette, the bakers’ kid.)

So, when Mei was first put into the care of the Dupain-Cheng household, she regularly tried to run away. It was unsurprisingly harder than in Gotham, though. Tom and Sabine were way more attentive than Elliot Hall’s staff ever was, and more than a third of her tentatives were folded even before she was past the front door.

It took her three months (and forty-three unsuccessful tentatives) before she finally accepted that there would be no way for her to go back to Gotham. (Not that she had known how she would manage to do that before, her plan never got that far.) It took another six months before Tom and Sabine trusted her enough to let her wander the neighborhood alone.

The first thing she did the day her ‘new parents’ let her go to the library alone was to get to a public computer, and look Jason up. She didn’t really think she would find anything when she typed Jason Todd and Gotham in Google that day (maybe an obituary). She definitely didn't think she would find her best friend (brother) on the covers of so many tabloids declaring that he was Bruce Wayne’s ward.

She didn’t know how she should feel about the fact that he proved her wrong and became some real-life Annie. She wanted to feel angry, or hurt. Even more so when she realised that Wayne adopted him not even a full week after her (kidnapping) departure from Gotham, but…

But seeing Jason in the pictures… He looked so angry. Angrier than she ever saw him. And hurt. There was hurt hidden in his expression. It was well hidden but she could see it. (She did that, she was the one that hurted him. He probably thought she left him. That she wasn’t any better than his deadbeat of a father and abandoned him. What if he hates her now, because she was gone for so long?)

She needed to go back to Gotham, find him, and explain everything. She needed to tell him she didn’t want to leave him behind, that he was her family, and that it would never change. But Tom and Sabine didn’t want to take her back there, not before she was older, because she wasn’t ready yet, they said.

She didn’t care, though. No matter how long it would take her, she was going to go back. So, she slowly started to act like the perfect little girl. She didn’t really change, she just stopped bringing up Gotham so much, started to help more often in the house and at the bakery, and started to call Tom and Sabine Papa and Maman. (It wasn’t real, at first. But then, they just crawled into her heart against her will and became family. They didn’t replace her Mom or Jason, though. Nobody ever will.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She started to heal. Slowly, without even realising. She opened up to a couple of children at her school, made friends with Nino, and sort of Frenemies (more enemy than friend, though) with Chloé Bourgeois. She picked up hobbies like sewing and designing, baking with Tom, or learning various martial arts with Sabine.

But she didn’t forget, going back to Gotham was still her ultimate goal. Until the news reached her, when she was twelve.

Jason Todd was dead.

Her best friend, her brother in everything but blood, her Annie. Dead. Jason was dead.

She felt like a part of her died with him, reading the words but not really processing. She let herself drown in her grief, closing up to everyone around her. Surprisingly, Chloé was the one that made her react. Literally slapping her to make her come back from the dead. (Not entirely, though. Mei, the Gothamite part of her, stayed dead with Jason. Only Marinette, the nice little parisian, came back.)

“I don’t really know what’s up with you, Dupain-Cheng,” she had said while Marinette cradled her sore cheek, her faux-contempt badly hiding her worry. “But you need to put yourself together. Tormenting you is no fun if you don’t react to it, and people are too worried for you to be afraid of me. Don’t make me call daddy on you.”

“I…” She had started, only to stop herself. She had looked back at Nino and Kim, both of whom were looking at her with poorly concealed worry. “Yeah, sorry Chloé.”

She pulled herself out of the worst of it after that, at the obvious relief of the people around her. None of which even knew why she was in this state. She still cried herself to sleep most nights, and sometimes felt like someone gouged out her heart with their bare hands, but she also started to let herself think of the good times. Started to let herself feel the good things happening around her, in the present.

Then, she saved the life of an old man, found magic earrings and a bug-mouse-kwami in her room that told her that she needed to become a hero and save Paris.

She thought of her big brother, of how he would always protect her when someone tried to rob them. Hide her, before even thinking of himself, when the cops would chase them down, trying to bring them back to Elliot's Hall. Give her all the food when they couldn’t get enough for the both of them. How he was a hero. Her Hero. And, really, there was only one thing she could say to that.

“Tikki, spots on!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

So. That's it. That was fun. I'm going to sleep now, goodnight.

Btw, Jason's super plan that day was totaly to steal the Batmobile's tires.

#maribat #mlb x dc #gothamite marinette #street kid marinette #platonic jasonette #probably a timari btw #timinette if that's how you call it #4am me decided to post it #2pm me could decide to delete it tho

207 notes · View notes

randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - Chapter 10 - The Fifth Year (Part Four)

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies. Chapter Warnings: Dark magic, violence, magical torture.

A/N> I really hope i don't put this fic into another hiatus, but i got a feeling i will. The only I can promise is to finish it. Hope you all like this chapter.

Series Masterlist || Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Part X - The Fifth Year (Part Four)

You walk beside Headmistress Harkness in silence, deeper into the dungeons of the castle.

She leads you to a wooden door, and then you enter a large stone room, which you imagine to be an office for the study of ancient runes, as you notice the symbols around the room, carved into the rocks and the corners of the walls.

"Professor, what did we come here for?" You ask with your arms folded across your chest, feeling your body shiver slightly at the creepy atmosphere in the room.

"I am going to help you reach your true potential, Miss Stark." She declares simply and waves her wand.

You feel your body being pushed until you are in the center of the room, your arms uncrossing and stretching out at your body's side, but soon there are thick iron chains conjured around your ankles and wrists.

Letting out a surprised exclamation, you look at Harkness in fear, but she is muttering softly, and walking around while touching the runes with her wand, and the symbols light up a purple glow one by one.

"Professor, what's going on?" You question trying to struggle against the chains, which seem to get tighter with each movement. You let out a grunt of pain.

"Stop fighting." She orders as she turns to you, her gaze assessing your face. "It's almost time, it will be painful if you resist."

"What are you talking about?"

But Agatha didn't answer and walked back behind you. You deduced that she was touching the runes on the walls at your back, because you could hear the rustling on the rocks, and then she came back into your field of vision.

She rummaged through her pockets, and pulled out a small watch.

"Now, now, you're almost late." She remarks, and looks back at you with a little smile. "I bet Erik asked about Pietro."

You frowned, but Agatha looked away, moving to the cabinet in the corner of the room. She returned with four candles in her hands, and deposited them around you.

You watched her use her wand to make the candles stand perfectly still in the four corners, and then light itself. You felt your heart race. Agatha was going to do a ritual with you. Of what exactly you had no idea. And judging by the events, it couldn't be good.

"Professor..."

"Quiet." She interrupts earnestly, one finger raised in the air while she looks back at the clock. You wriggle uncomfortably, and it takes only a moment for Agatha to let out a sigh and turn to you. "Let's get started."

You were about to ask again, but Agatha raises her wand toward you and mutters words you don't recognize.

Your vision dims for a second and then you think you are having another vision, but you cannot understand exactly what it is.

It looks like the nightmares you had with Mephisto, but everything is quieter. You can only hear your own footsteps, but it is as if you were walking on water.

The shelves in the ministry are completely empty, and the image is dull.

This time you are not looking for something. You are calling out to someone.

You walk and you walk, and then you come to the center of a room. And you choke when you see yourself.

But your face is completely bloodied, and you are whimpering in pain.

"I found you." The voice is Mephisto's, but you don't see him anywhere. Your bruised self is dying, and you begin to feel desperate, but when you try to scream for help, what comes out are the words. "Where is it? Find it for me!"

"I don't know." Your self whines. "And if I did know I wouldn't tell you."

"Filthy half-blood!" The voice that is your accuses, and then there is a red light and your bruised self screams in pain. It is the cruciatus curse, and it only stops after a moment. "I have no time for your lies. I'll end it at once."

You gasp and are back in Agatha's room, falling to your knees.

"What was that?" You manage to ask as you try to calm your breathing, grumbling in pain as you realize that the sudden movement has made the chains hurt your wrists.

"That was just what it took to get Wanda away from the castle." Agatha replies as she lowers her wand. You frown in confusion, but the woman is getting closer. She makes a motion with her hands and you feel a sharp pain on the tip of your forehead, and you grumble.

A little blood trickles down her face, but it doesn't hurt that much, and you figure it's just a small cut. Ancient runes are not your specialty, but it's not hard to imagine that she just drew one on your skin.

"What do you want from me, professor?" You ask half breathlessly, feeling your body weak. Agatha is muttering some incantations, and you feel as if your energy is slowly being drained away.

When she stops, you can barely keep your eyes open.

"Now we will wait a little while, dear." She says as she kneels in front of the candled square she created. "Wanda needs time to get to the ministry."

You shook your head, feeling your vision go blurry and your mouth go dry. Agatha sighed before she stood up, and you were surprised that she brought you water.

"I don't want you to collapse now, we're not even halfway through it." She declared as she forced the small bottle against your lips. You grumbled, but she held your chin tightly and forced you to drink.

It wasn't water, but it didn't taste bad.

"There you go, drink it all." She guided and only when the item was empty she pulled away. With a flick of her fingers, the bottle disappeared and you gasped as you felt a wave of heat pass through your entire body.

It was a potion of vigor, and although confused and frightened, you had no physical discomfort.

"What did you do to me?" You questioned between teeth. Agatha moved around the room, grabbing one of the books from the bookshelf. She muttered something about making sure she was doing everything right, before she stopped standing in front of you.

"Isn't it obvious, my dear?" She retorted with debauchery. "And I thought you would be smarter, but perhaps the hat was wrong."

Agatha crouched down again, and put the book down on the floor in front of you. You looked down to notice that it was open on a page that contained a map of England.

Before you could ask, she was forcing your head down, and you grunted in pain. When your blood dripped onto the paper, she let go.

"Thank you, dear." She declared without looking at you. "Now let's find out how close they are."

You gasp in surprise when your blood moves on the paper, circling around the lines of the map. Agatha makes a noise with her mouth in contentment.

"Ah, judging by the speed, I'm sure they used the thestrals." She comments. "I suppose Miss Quinn joined the quest in the end."

You look at the professor with confusion, but she is already raising her fingers to your forehead.

"Let's take a peek." She declaims, and you feel your skin burn where she touches it. Your vision dims for a second before you see the sky.

You are mounted on something, and you look around to see all your friends mounted on thestrals, flying beside you. You want to ask what is going on, but soon realize that you are just watching.

"Are we far away?" Gamora asks beside you.

"No! Just a few more minutes." It is Tony who answers from the front horse. He looks upset, all of them do in fact.

You want to shout to ask, but your vision dims and you are back on your feet.

Agatha lets out an impatient sigh as you pant in pain, trying to understand exactly what is going on.

"It's a pity." She mumbles to herself and you force yourself to ask.

"What is it?"

"Mephisto takes no prisoners, Miss Stark." She replies. "I hadn't expected your friends to interfere, it's really a pity. Perhaps you should already pick out a dress for the memorial ceremony."

"What are you talking about?"

"In reality it's your fault of course." She declares with a mischievous giggle and you stare at her in confusion. Agatha sighs humorously, as if what she is telling you is obvious. "Silly girl, the cloak of course! The legendary invisibility cloak that you lent to your dear brother."

"What?"

Agatha rolled her eyes.

"It's not funny when you don't know what I'm talking about." She commented impatiently and leaned against one of the pillars of the hall, her arms crossed. "But I think we have time until they reach the ministry, so let's talk a little."

You think the effect of the potion is wearing off too quickly, but you force yourself to keep your gaze on Agatha.

"The story is much simpler than you might imagine, of course." She begins. "I needed to find a way to help Wanda unleash her power completely, and you were the solution to all my problems." She says with a nostalgic chuckle, and you look at her wide-eyed.

Your vision is darkening again, and Agatha notices by your tired expression, so she lets out a laughing exclamation and moves around the room. When she returns, there is a wooden compartment in her arms, which she lays on the floor. You notice the dozens of small glass jars, and she forces you to drink another one.

"Dear, Dear, there you go. There's no reason to look so pale, you just need a little encouragement." She smiles at her own pun, and you move your head to push her touch away, making her laugh before turning away.

"Where was I? "Oh yes, in the beginning." She asks rhetorically, her posture amused. "I'm going to assume that Erik told you about the nature of Wanda's powers, dear, it would be sad to know that he didn't after so much."

"He did." You grumble and Agatha smiles.

"Oh, great." She says. "Well, of course he said what I told him, of course. But he couldn't know everything. He wouldn't approve of my methods. As a father and as a wizard I suppose."

You sighed lightly, your body was shaking, like a fever, but the potion was keeping you pain-free.

"Professor..."

"Don't interrupt!" She cuts off quickly, but her tone is amused. "What an education you've been giving at Hufflepuff, my goodness. Maybe the hat should have sent you to Gryffindor, you would have learned better about manners."

You clenched your jaw and Agatha giggled a little before continuing.

"I told Erik that you two should stay apart, and he bought that story like the fool he always was." She comments with amusement and you feel your stomach sink.

"Was it you?"

"Don't make that face, honey." She says. "I couldn't risk you getting in my way."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Agatha sighs impatiently.

"Your bond, Miss Stark!" she retorts as if it were obvious, "I needed to shape Wanda's progress according to my agenda. If you were around her, you could develop the bond and your abilities would be a problem."

You looked at her with confusion and Agatha took another look at the map before looking back at you.

"They are arriving, shall we take another peek?"

"Tell me what you want to say!" You ask, but the witch just ignores you while touching your forehead again. You gasp in pain, but this vision is quicker.

You see a dark concrete, and a tall door. And then Agatha brings you back.

"Great, they're at the ministry." She mumbles as she releases you, you gasp helplessly, your head weighing down. But Agatha brings another vial of potion to your lips. "This is going to get a lot worse before it gets better I'm sorry to say, Miss."

You motion for her to take the bottle from your lips, but she insists that you drink it all and only backs away when you do.

"What do you know about my bond with Wanda?" You question next, feeling the elixir kick in again.

"Everything." She states simply and you look at her. "How it was made, how to break it and how to improve it."

Agatha draws her wand toward you again and you widen your eyes.

"Let's make sure she remembers why she''s there, dear." She speaks before bewitching you.

You watch yourself being tortured again, but now the shelves are full.

When you return, you fall flat on your face on the floor.

Agatha approaches with a grimace, pulling your hair to make you look at her again, and you grunt in pain.

"Do you need another potion or can you stay awake?" She asks.

"Fuck you."

Agatha laughed and let go of your hair, you managed to keep your head away from the floor by millimeters.

"I'm being so nice and you so badly behaved."

"You chained me to the ground." You retort with indignation.

Agatha rolls her eyes, crossing her arms as she leans against the pillar again.

"This is only to keep you from disappearing." She comments causing you to raise your eyebrows. "Oh, right, I forgot that you have no idea what I'm talking about."

You grumble in pain, but don't interrupt.

"As I was saying, I know all about your magical bonding, dear." She says. "It took some time, but I managed to figure it all out. And that's exactly why I kept you away from Wanda this year."

"Why?"

"Because I want Wanda's magic for myself, of course."

You let out an exclamation of surprise and anger, but before you could say anything else, your body tensed all at once, and you felt your heart soar as if it were racing.

"W-what's happening?" You muttered in confusion, feeling the adrenaline wake up your senses. Agatha looked at you intently, moving away from the pillar to look at you more closely. She touched the side of your faces, assessing you.

"You can feel the danger she is in can't you?" She asked with fascination in her voice and gaze. You gasped, feeling the room getting smaller. "It is absolutely magnificent to witness such power."

"What did you do?" you ask with difficulty. "Where is Wanda?"

Agatha laughs as she walks away. She moves around the room again and you think she is going to go back to her original position, but she makes a motion with her hands and floats in the air. She sits down with her legs crossed and stands at the same height as you.

"Sorry, Miss Stark." She says with her palms up and lying in the air. "We've reached the part where it's going to become very painful."

The candles around you float at head height, and the flames light up, but they are blue. You also notice the runes glowing on the walls.

"Please." You plead but Agatha doesn't answer you, all she says are words in a language you don't recognize.

When she falls silent, you wait for the pain to come, but all is quiet.

"It's done." She announces with a sigh.

"What's done?"

"Now she can become a scarlet witch for good."

"Professor what..."

But your voice dies in your throat as you feel a sharp pang in your chest and gasp breathlessly. A whistle hissing in your ear, and a sharp pain takes over your entire body in the next second.

You don't need much to deduce that Wanda is suffering.

"Stop it!" You beg as you hug your own body, feeling your skin burn. "Please stop hurting her!"

"Focus, Stark." You hear Agatha's voice in your head. It's hard to push through the pain to pay attention.

"Let me go!" You plead but you have the impression that it is only in your thoughts. You know that your body is screaming in pain. "Let me save her! Wanda!"

"Pay attention, girl!" It's Agatha again. "You never needed to be with her to protect her. Concentrate. Don't let her get hurt."

Agatha's sentence echoes in your head for many minutes, until her voice replaces the pain.

You open your eyes, but cannot see the room. There is a golden light all around you, and it takes a moment to realize that it is your hands and eyes that are glowing.

"What?" you gasp in confusion but your body is shaking again and you can taste blood in your mouth.

"Not yet, honey." Agatha says and you realize she is still in the room. You blink, trying to see her, but all you can see is the light. You can barely feel the chains, but they are still on your wrists. "Just a little longer. He needs to use the curse."

"Professor, what's going on?" You try but there is no answer. The pain returns and your body hangs forward, but you rest your hands on the floor, panting. "Please help me."

"Help yourself." Says the woman. "What will make the pain stop?"

"Wanda." The answer escapes in a sigh and you can barely keep your eyes open.

"Then go to her."

And then your vision dims.

You think you are falling into a portal key, because it feels the same. But you land before reaching the ground.

Everything is muffled, and you look around to see spell lights.

You see your friends dueling wizards you don't recognize, in a place you know as the Ministry of Magic.

You know because it is like your childhood memories, on the rare occasions when you were with Tony and your father in search of some package.

But it's empty now, except for the wizards fighting.

Your friends are losing, you know by the way the masked men are surrounding everyone in the corner.

But you're not looking for that.

Your attention is on the girl in the center, the bright red light surrounding her hands.

Your body immediately relaxes at the sight of her, and you walk on.

Wanda is also struggling. Her energy escapes from her hand towards the black-clad sorcerer, who has a devilish grin on his face, but who seems pleased to see so much power.

You lift your hand to touch her face, and then the sound returns.

The effect of your touch on Wanda's skin is immediate.

Her magic explodes in her hands, creating a force field that pushes Mephisto and the walkers meters away.

The leader lets out a laugh as he falls backwards, while his followers stare at the scene with confusion, surprised by the sudden blow.

Wanda falls to her knees, and you stoop down to the level of her face, raising your hands to your face.

"Wanda? Can you hear me?" You call out, but it is as you thought, she cannot. Neither she can see you. But something makes you believe she can feel you. You sigh watching her try to pull herself together.

Mephisto stands up and waves for his followers to stand still.

Wanda stands in front of her friends. You swallow dryly, and stand beside her.

"Your protector is here, isn't he?" The man questions with a murderous look on his face. "I can feel it."

"Where is she?" Wanda asks angrily, but the wizard continues to smile.

"Do you really think I would risk exposure to steal your girlfriend from the castle, Miss Maximoff?" The wizard retorts. "You are as foolish as your father."

Wanda raises her hands again. You feel your body tingle.

"I won't ask again." She says and Mephisto's gaze flashes with irritation.

"It is I who will not repeat myself, miss." He strikes back and points his wand toward Wanda in a quick motion. You see the green light approaching in slow motion, and your feet are already moving forward.

The Death Curse hits you in the chest, but all you feel is the tingling in the back of your head, and all they see, is a golden light.

"This is getting embarrassing for you." Wanda teases the wizard, and you want to smile, but you are feeling your connection grow weak, the atmosphere begins to glaze over.

"I've had enough of games." Mephisto speaks impatiently, and moves his wand toward the fountain in the center in the hallway. Water pours out of the marble and rises to the ceiling, forming a three-headed serpent. "I'll just drown your friends and eliminate a few names from the list of blood traitors."

"No!" Wanda says as she throws an energy ball at the sorcerer, but he deflects it with ease. The water Hydra moves and Wanda attacks again.

You think the water will reach your friends, but the ministry's Floo powder fireplaces are lighting up and the order's wizards are coming out of there.

Mephisto's smile fades. His followers begin to duel, and he forms a shield to stop Wanda's attacks while turning to look at the incoming aurors, as you watch Hydra's enchantment being controlled and undone.

It is satisfying to see Mephisto choke in surprise as the rest of the Ministry officials begin to Apparate and use the floo powder net to arrive on the scene.

You see the expression of pure shock when the Minister of Magic sees the sorcerer, before Mephisto apparates and disappears.

There is an immediate commotion afterwards, the aurors of the order preventing the walkers from fleeing and the rest of the officials looking on at the scene of the fight with confusion.

The atmosphere is getting stuffy again, so you turn to Wanda again, and she has tears in her eyes as she looks around.

Erik reaches her within the next minute.

"Darling!" He says hugging her with concern, but Wanda sobs and he pulls away looking into her eyes. "What happened?"

"I couldn't find her, papa." She cries. "I looked everywhere."

Erik shakes his head.

"Wanda, Miss Stark is safe." He assures you and you frown. "It was a false vision dear, she was never here."

Wanda gasps in confusion, you want to touch her but can barely keep yourself watching.

"But i saw..."

"I know dear, but it wasn't true." Erik interrupts, "Let's go back to the castle, I'll tell you everything. But breathe, okay, she's safe."

Wanda nods, and you feel her exhaustion invade your body immediately. The aurors of the order help your friends, and you watch Erik help Wanda walk to the fireplaces, and the realization that she is safe is enough for you to surrender to the darkness.

//-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-//

You know something is different the moment you open your eyes.

Maybe the way all the sounds invade your ears at once, and you grumble, trying to figure out if you have a headache or just reject the sudden gain in consciousness.

There is no pain, though, you notice.

There is only softness and lightness.

You blink a few times, and understand that you are lying on a bed. Straightening up, you eventually identify the room. It is an infirmary, but it is not Hogwarts. You frown in confusion, and straighten to sit up.

It looks like a hospital room, and there are other beds a few meters away, but they are empty. You also notice the "get well soon" balloons and the gift wrappings and food baskets on top of the cabinet at the end of the bed.

When you notice the sleeping figure in the armchair next to you, you gasp in surprise.

"Wanda!" You call out with a mixture of shock and relief.

The girl opens her eyes sleepily and then widens them when she realizes that you are looking at her curiously, babbling about what had happened and if she was okay. All Wanda does is let out a tearful laugh and jump at you, her arms around your neck as she hugs you tightly.

"Hey, is everything okay?" You ask fearfully, letting your arms encircle her waist and pulling her into bed with you. Wanda buries her face in your neck, and you want to close your eyes to enjoy the feeling of having her so close, but you are too curious to know about everything. "Wanda?"

"Fuck I was so worried." She sighs against your skin before pulling away, and you frown, looking into her watery eyes. You reach out to caress her face and she smiles as she leans into your touch, one hand rising to yours on her cheek.

"What happened?" You ask and she shakes her head slightly.

"A lot." She says. "But everyone is fine. You...merlin...you're here."

Wanda rests her forehead against yours and you both close your eyes.

"Where else would I be?"

She doesn't answer, just presses your lips together in a sweet but firm kiss. You feel your whole body shiver all at once, and gasp in surprise.

Wanda pulls away with a sigh and hugs you again, and you decide to give yourself over to the feeling, inhaling her perfume as you bury your face in her hair and feel your whole body relax all at once.

"Finally!" Your brother's voice startles you slightly, but you don't have much time to absorb his sudden presence in the room, because soon all your friends are entering as well, and Wanda is breaking the embrace so that your brothers will hug you and then your friends.

As soon as you hug everyone, and receive pats on the shoulder and questions about how you are feeling from the adults, you intertwine your hand with Wanda, who remains sitting next to you on the bed. The feeling brings you an instant sense of safety.

"Can someone tell me how I got here now?" You ask just as Carol Danvers turns away from you and stands next to Erik and Fury, who are in the corner next to Mantis and Harley, all squeezed around your bed.

"What's the last thing you remember, YN?" It is Tony who asks and you frown.

"The room with Professor Harkness, I think." You say feeling your stomach turn. Wanda's touch tightens a little, and you appreciate the sensation. Many flashes pass through your mind at once, and you use your free hand to massage your forehead lightly. "I think I remember a spell... Professor!" You exclaim suddenly looking at Erik, remembering the schoolmistress's words. "Agatha, she was the one who planned everything... the ministry, the prophecy! She knew everything and...!"

"Calm down, miss Stark." The professor interrupts with a nod. "We already know about what happened in the dungeon."

"Oh, okay." You mumble clumsily. "H-how did I get out of there?"

Erik exchanges a look with Wanda before turning back to you.

"Your last memory, Miss Stark, what would it be? Do you only remember talking to Agatha?"

"If you call torture talking." You mumble clumsily, and Wanda squeezes your hand hard, making you bite your tongue. "Hey." You say to her, but she doesn't let go of the grip. She says nothing, and you sigh. "Yes, professor. I just remember being within the spell. And then I woke up here."

Erik clears his throat and you think this is the time he's going to ask everyone to leave, but he hasn't.

"Well, then we have to update you on some important things, miss." He says as he puts his hands in his pockets. "I believe Doctor McCoy would prefer to talk to you first however, and he is looking at this small crowd with a certain disapproval."

You frown at the phrase, but there is a man dressed in aqua green approaching the bed and beckoning your friends to stand back. It's the healer in charge, you read the little plaque with the name "Doctor Hank McCoy" on the coat as he asks everyone not to be so on top of you.

"Good morning, Miss Stark, it's very good to see you awake at last. How are you feeling?" He asks as you approach, you squeeze Wanda's hand as soon as she makes mention of getting up. She gets a slight flush on her cheeks, but ignores the doctor's gaze and continues sitting next to you. Hank realizing that the witch won't move away, decides to approach you from the other side of the bed, a metal stethoscope in position on his neck and hands.

"I'm fine." You say with a smile.

"Let's make sure you are." He says as he places the object against your chest. "Take a deep breath, please."

The check is quick, and a little awkward as everyone is looking at you. Doctor Hank grabs a wooden clipboard as soon as he's finished.

"You've recovered almost completely, that's impressive." He comments sounding pleased and you look at him curiously.

"Was I sick?"

Hank gives a little laugh and then frowns, realizing that you really were curious. He clears his throat.

"Are you experiencing memory loss?" He asks looking at you intently. You swallow dryly, pulling away slightly as you feel the blue orbs analyzing you so intently. "It's a common symptom for this type of magical occurrence, of course, though it's a more recurring one in patients who have experienced the cruciatus curse."

"Doctor?"

Hank straightens his body again, putting his hands in his pockets.

"What is your last memory of the ritual, miss?"

"Ritual?" You ask confused.

"The bonding ritual, Miss Stark." He clarifies. "Your family members explained to the team that you were in the custody of a dark witch and went through a level five rated magical binding ritual against your will."

"I..."

"Doctor McCoy, please." Erik interrupts with an embarrassed smile. "We haven't had a chance to talk to her about everything. Perhaps some less technical language."

"Oh, yes, of course." Hank agreed with a smile, and his posture became much friendlier. "What exactly do you remember, Miss?"

"Only to be caught in a spell doctor." You reply. "My professor, she used some runes on the walls and tried to keep me trapped. It was... quite unpleasant if you ask me." You recount feeling really uncomfortable. "I didn't really understand what happened."

"Don't worry, we know what happened." Hank says. "From a medical point of view at least." He jokes and Erik smiles, but you are too nervous to do so. "Sorry, but the room is too crowded. Why don't you all wait outside while I talk to Miss Stark?"

Your friends let out a disgruntled exclamation together, but Carol and Fury are already pushing everyone out.

"She can stay, right?" you ask quickly and Doctor Hank gives a chuckle.

"I wouldn't try to keep you and Miss Maximoff apart anymore in any manner at all." He comments and you look at him with confusion.

Erik also stays in the room, standing at the end of the bed. Wanda strokes your hand with her thumb as the doctor speaks again, and you want to pay attention to his words rather than her touch, but it is a difficult task.

Hank sits on the edge at the height of your knee.

"You have undergone a magical bonding ritual, Miss Stark." He begins. "More precisely, through a kind of spell to strengthen a magical bond that already exists in you. In this case, your bond with Miss Maximoff."

The doctor adjusts his glasses slightly as soon as you nod in understanding.

"That kind of spell is very dangerous by itself, Miss." He says. "But it is even more so when done without the consent of those involved."

Hank gropes his pockets and then takes out his own wand, extending it into the air with a smooth motion. You watch intently as two golden figures resembling two people appear in front of you.

He also draws a thread connecting them at chest height.

"What we know about natural protective magical bonds, Miss, is that they act as a string of energy between the bodies of the witches who are connected." He narrates as he signals the golden magical wave with his finger. "That string stretches, and bends, and can only be broken in three ways. With the length of the magic contract, the withdrawal of the spell, or the death of one of the witches. And in this third, if the witch to whom the link refers, dies before the other, the other will suffer the same fate, since the link remains intact."

"Doctor, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but I already knew that information." You comment clumsily, but the adults don't seem annoyed, they just giggle. You are surprised to realize that you know Wanda thought it was funny even without looking at her.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry, I'm getting there." He hits back with a chuckle. Hank makes another motion with his wand, and this time, an energy rune appears between the figures in the center of the link, and you frown as you recognize the image.

"It looks like the one Professor Harkness drew on the floor." You comment.

"It's exactly the same." Hank says. "This is rune needed for the power release spell. Ancient magic, very powerful." He counters. "It was common for witches to use this kind of spell in the wild, before magic societies were fully formed, since no one learned how to grow their own power through study and practice. Other methods were used before the schools of magic existed."

"What did she do to me, doctor?" You ask fearfully, understanding where the conversation was going. Doctor Hank exchanged a look with Professor Erik.

"Well, Mrs. Harkness wanted to rush things, I believe." He says. "You see, magical connections are very unstable magics, Miss. Especially if done between living things." He adds and moves his wand again. The rune multiplies and lands on the chest of each of the figures. "The ritual that Agatha performed served to stimulate the full magical potency of your connection all at once."

"But what does that mean?"

"It means that after that night, she merged your magic and Miss Maximoff's magic as one." Hank clarified and you frowned, trying to understand exactly what that signified. Seeing your expression, Professor Erik cleared his throat and approached the side of the bed, close to Wanda.

"What will happen now, Miss Stark, will be the peak of a magical bond." He says with a worried look, and you look at him curiously. "You two will both present new powers, and you will need to learn how to control all of them."

You ran your fingers lightly through your hair, sighing.

"You still haven't told me how I ended up here." You grumbled slightly impatiently. The teacher hesitated, but then told you.

"Agatha underestimated the power of your bond with Wanda." He said and you were about to question what that meant when he spoke again. "The ritual served to potentiate the Scarlet Witch's magic, using your body as a bridge for contact, since through the connection between you, she was able to force Wanda's magic to evolve."

You looked at Wanda, but she was looking at your hands entwined together.

"Is everything okay with you?" You asked her immediately, and she raised her eyes to you. Nodding in agreement, she gave you a shy smile. You wished you were alone with her.

"Agatha wanted to use the bond just to stimulate Wanda's magic to its full potential, and she knew she could use your magical bond to do that." The professor then added. "But, I don't know if you remember, Miss Stark, as we talked about earlier in the year, there are limits to what the human body can handle. Just like you, Wanda didn't even come of age yet. Her magic simply wasn't ready."

"And that's when the magical bond between you two interrupted the spell." The doctor added and you widened your eyes slightly. He waved his wand so that the illusion of the figures shattered. "You see, Miss, you have a protective bond with Miss Maximoff. The minute the spell became strong enough to injure her, your magic merged with hers, and all was restrained. The ritual was immediately interrupted."

"You may not remember, but Agatha took you to the ministry." Erik said next and grimaced slightly. "Well, not exactly brought, but projected you. She was the one who set up the visions in Wanda's head so that she would see you wounded and fight Mephisto again. All the danger she was going through triggered the bond. And then she could project your consciousness to Wanda, giving her the power to face Mephisto in a duel."

"I don't remember that." You mutter, scratching the back of your neck lightly.

"Don't worry." Hank adds. "It was a very intensive magical exhaustion, I'm sure your memories will gradually come back. If not, Miss Maximoff can help you." He jokes and you frown in confusion, but the doctor is already getting up. "Well, I need to check on other patients, I'll come visit you later. Try to eat something before I get back, okay? You should still be here for a few days, until we're sure you're fully recovered."

You thanked the doctor before he left. Erik cleared his throat.

"Do you have any other questions?"

"Many sir." You say making him laugh lightly. But then you sigh. "But I wanted to stay with Wanda for a while."

Erik nods in understanding, and exchanges a look with his daughter before turning to leave.

You straighten to lie down and look at Wanda and she mimics your movement, but looks up at the ceiling.

"Wanda?" You call out and wait for her to turn her face toward you. A sense of lightness and assurance immediately invades your chest at having the green orbs stare at you. "How do you feel?"

She gives you a short smile, and straightens up to turn her whole body toward you. It's uncomfortable to hold your hands like this, so she lets go, but raises her fingers to your face, tracing your features.

"I feel different." She confesses. Every touch of her fingers is warm and comforting. "What about you?"

"Different too." You reply, resisting the urge to close your eyes. "But a good different."

Wanda smiles, shaking her head in agreement. You are silent for a moment, Wanda using her thumb to caress your cheek tenderly, and you let your gaze on her mouth.

"Why were you almost crying when I woke up?" You ask next, and her body tenses before she sighs. You look into her eyes, waiting.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you." She mumbles and you shake your head, bringing your faces closer together. Wanda sighs and brings her hand to the back of your neck as you press your foreheads together. "I can't talk about it."

"Show me then." You ask and she closes her eyes just before you close yours.

The visions hit you in the next second.

You see the false memories Agatha implanted in her, they were images of you being tortured in the ministry, your screams echoing among the corridors. You feel Wanda's desperation, her helplessness, the way her heart squeezed and the despair at every door she opened in the ministry and could not find you.

You gasp when you see the duel with Mephisto again, feeling your own touch in Wanda's magic, the way she had never felt so powerful, every cell vibrating.

A surprised sigh escapes when you see Wanda being carried back to the castle, as she feels her whole body tired but cannot close her eyes without hearing from you. You feel her tears when Professor Erik lets her see the state of the dungeon where Agatha imprisoned you, and the yearning when she sees your blood on the chains and on the floor.

The anger when her father tries to send her to sleep, and she insists on going to the hospital with your family, and the way her body shakes when she sees you on a stretcher unconscious.

Your own image scares you. The deep wounds on your wrists and ankles, made by the iron chains you have broken. The rune cut on your forehead, bright and red, and the blood that dripped down your nose, ears and mouth.

You feel the way Pietro's tight embrace, or his words of affirmation, assuring her that the healers will heal you, helps Wanda relax, but you also see how it's not enough. How all Wanda needs is for you to be at her side.

The feeling of fear and insecurity that lingers in Wanda's chest during the days she lies beside you in bed, waiting for you to wake up. Unsuccessful in sensing your thoughts even when she tries to sneak up on you during the nurses' shift change.

And then the sense of relief when seeing you open your eyes.

You gasp out the memories, feeling yours and Wanda's tears too.

"Oh, my love, I'm so sorry." You ask in a hoarse voice. "I should have woken up sooner."

Wanda lets out a tearful laugh, shaking her head.

"It's okay." She assures. "I'm just glad you did."

You smile, bringing your fingers together to take a strand of hair from Wanda's eyes and place it behind her ears.

"I will always be by your side, Wanda." You say. "I promise."

Wanda sighs, opening her eyes again. You use your thumb to wipe away the tears that have trickled down her face.

There is a moment of silence, and then your heart soars at her words.

"I know about the prophecy."

You look away before looking at her again.

"I'm sorry." You say. "I should have told you."

"Yes, you should have." She retorts seriously, but she doesn't sound angry. "But it's over now. And now everyone knows."

You widen your eyes, and probably sensing the way you've grown anxious, Wanda firms the touch of her hand on the side on your neck, murmuring lightly.

"Don't worry, eventually everyone would find out." She says and you swallow dryly.

"H-how did they know?"

"That's why Mephisto was in the Ministry." She explains. "He was looking for the prophecy in the mystery department. Steve found it first."

You swallowed dryly and Wanda continued to tell.

"I think he hesitated to tell Tony for a moment." She says. "But then he did. And then everyone knew. My father told the order as soon as you were admitted."

"How did Tony take it?" you asked fearfully and Wanda sighed.

"Better than I did if you ask me." She grumbled and you smiled shyly. "He only calmed down when they poured some potion for him. And well, I broke Dad's nose so it didn't really go down too well."

"Wow, you did what?" you ask in surprise, and Wanda grumbles, tucking her head into her pillow. You giggle, digging into her hair with your fingers. "I want to see that one."

Wanda chuckles against the cotton before looking back at you. She shows you the memory next. Everyone around the St.Mungus waiting room when Steve arrives accompanied by Erik and he tells everyone the truth. You see Tony squirming and being calmed down by two nurses, and you can feel Wanda's irritation and indignation as she looks at the "I was doing the right thing" expression her father has on his face. And how the feeling explodes in her chest when he comes to say he was trying to keep her safe and she just punches him in the face.

You gasp out of the memory with an impressed laugh, moving from the image of Erik with a bloody nose to Wanda with flushed cheeks, impacted by the way your laughter makes her heart soar.

"I can't believe you punched your father in the face." You tease with amusement and Wanda laughs lightly, reaching out to rest her arm on your waist. Her hand caresses your back gently.

"If he hadn't kept us apart none of this would have happened." She mumbles bitterly and you sigh.

"He thought he was helping." You retort but Wanda just hums. You let out an exclamation next as you remember something. "Wanda, you didn't tell me you were having nightmares! Are they still happening?"

Wanda sighs, denying with her head.

"No, not since the ministry." She says. "Papa hasn't figured out what they are, and now we can't count on Professor Harkness to help us find out. But since I fought Mephisto at the ministry, they've stopped."

"Why didn't you tell me about them?"

"Because they were about you." She retorts as if it's obvious. "I didn't want to worry you anymore. Not when all I do is cause you problems."

The confession catches you completely off guard. And Wanda's guilty tone breaks your heart. She is looking down at the sheet and you let out an incredulous laugh.

"That's so very far from the truth, my dear." You say as you catch her chin between your fingers, and make her look at you gently. "You have no idea how good you do me, do you Wanda?"

"I..."

"It' s okay, now I can show you." You interrupt with a shy smile, bringing your lips together in a gentle kiss.

Everything feels more intense now. It's a simple touch, but it warms your whole body. You leave your fingers at the nape of her neck as you slide your tongue against hers, and you both sigh with the touch.

It feels so good to kiss Wanda, it warms your whole body from head to toe, but remembering that you are in a hospital bed, just as a familiar warmth begins to form at the tip of your stomach when Wanda's hand squeezes the fabric of your shirt and her tongue moves against yours slowly, you sigh as you break the kiss.

You smile at the image of Wanda's swollen lips and ajar, dark eyes.

"Why did you stop?" she asks breathlessly, her voice husky. You raise your eyebrows in amusement.

"Baby, our families and friends are in the next room." You clarify and Wanda mumbles, coming closer to rest her forehead on yours. Her hand squeezed the fabric before adorning your t-shirt, her fingers on your skin making you shiver slightly. "Behave."

Wanda giggles mischievously, pecking your lips before moving away. You feel your body relax completely as you gaze into her emerald eyes, but the moment is broken when your friends are back in the room.

Ignoring the hissing and the giggles, you tuck yourself into bed so that Wanda can snuggle up next to you.

Things are going to be different now, you know. But something tells you that as long as you have Wanda's hand in yours, you'll be fine.

//-//-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-//-//

Tag list> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife || @nervoustrack || @aquamarinescarlet || @cristin-rjd || @idamaemann || @fortunatelynerdylight

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagines #avengers imagines #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x yn #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fic #The Scarlet Witch Prophecy #wanda x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #harry potter au

244 notes · View notes

gaegalsyd · 3 years

Text

Tracing Footsteps in the Wind

summary: You are a peculiar who travels through different loops to help different ymbrynes in their loop and their children. But what will happen when you visit the loop of one ymbryne called Miss Peregrine. Will you find friendship, sorrow, or love?

Chapter 2: It doesn't matter where we take this road

The next morning, you decided to help Miss Kestrel make breakfast for the children so you made your way downstairs silently after changing from your sleepwear and fixing your hair. The smell of the waffles in the kitchen wafted in your nose, and the sizzle of the bacons was the only sound in the area. Miss Kestrel was there alone sipping her tea while making sure none of the food got burnt.

“Good morning Miss Kestrel, anything I can do to help?” the older woman acknowledged you by preparing another cup of tea for you “Good morning y/n you can set the table, and what’s your preference for your tea?” You took the plates and utensils before responding with a smile “the usual, miss.”

After setting the plates, one of the older children came down to help prepare for breakfast and after a while all of the children were seated at the table and were already eating.

While everyone is eating, the headmistress cleared her throat to catch everyone’s attention “children, Miss y/n will be leaving the loop after breakfast, I expect you would want to say a proper goodbye to her” the children looked at you in surprise and started asking questions like “will you come back?” “Can you send us photographs?” which you all answered easily.

After breakfast you gathered all your things and went downstairs and saw the children and Miss Kestrel waiting for you. The older woman patted your back while all the children gave you a hug. “Be careful out there y/n, you can send us a letter anytime you need anything” Miss Kestrel said while holding your arm.

You thanked her and everyone in the house, and once you’ve exited the loop you felt the vast difference in the atmosphere and time. Without looking back, you started your journey towards Cairnholm.

The travel from Brighton to Cairnholm would have been a lot easier without the war and trying not to get any attention for yourself. But while you are in the boat on the way to the island, you are starting to feel at ease and are already thinking of how the children are. And when you saw the shape of the island you noticed a bird flying, a peregrine falcon to be exact, you knew that there is a big chance that this is the ymbryne of the new place you’ll be calling home but you did not do anything to acknowledge it.

When the boat stopped, you immediately got off it and started walking around the island. You can feel that this island must have been through a lot just with the look of the houses with doors and windows closed, and with the people being in a hurry as if trying to get to their destinations to get out of the open area as soon as possible. The island is not that picturesque, not that you are expecting it to be picture perfect, the weather is gloomy and the air is a bit cold that matches the atmosphere of the island. Walking around, you did not see any hint of the loop or a place where the children may stay while they are on the island, that’s why you did not hesitate to enter the first pub you saw which is the Priest Hole.

“You there! You don’t look familiar, what brought you here? ``One of the men in a Welsh accent asked you, and when you were about to approach them, a woman asked “Are you here for the children?” which surprised you because surely they don’t know about peculiars or if they do then that could be troublesome, you thought. You said yes hoping that they did not notice the hesitancy in your voice, then one man approached you and placed a hand to your shoulder then said sorry for your loss. You sat on one of the chairs and took a drink, after listening and engaging to some of their conversations, you learned that the house was bombed and not one survived. “So the house was bombed but where is the entrance to the loop” you thought quietly, after a while you asked some questions in hopes that you’ll get some answer to where the entrance is but when you got nothing you just sighed and asked “Can you tell me the direction to their house?” after giving the directions the owner of the pub reminded you “The house was bombed just a few weeks ago, it might not be safe to wander too much and be careful of the bogs” You gathered your things and thanked the people “ I might leave as soon as I see the house, thank you for the directions”

The path towards the house is not an easy path, they must have stopped maintaining it after the house was bombed since it is the only house on that side of the island. And when you saw the home, your heart sank despite knowing that every occupant survived. The front part of the roof is completely shattered and some parts are just waiting to fall around, and it is reeking the smell of smoke and burnt woods but you walked closer. It was probably raining a few days after the bombs but you cannot bring yourself to come inside the home since from your inspection, the building is very unstable as of the moment and would need a few more weeks until anyone can safely come inside.

Assuming that the entrance of the loop must be close, you started to walk around the house until you felt a presence, then saw footsteps that ended just beside you. “Is someone there? I can feel you and you’re not so good in hiding” you pointed the footsteps, then you heard a sigh “You must be miss y/n, Miss Peregrine asked us to fetch you” you smiled towards the air where you think the voice came from and grinned “Why don’t you lead the way then” After saying those words, a girl with red hair and a leather gloves approached you from behind the trimmed bushes that you assume to be once a garden, with clothes in her hand which she handed to the invisible boy you were talking to “you were naked the whole time” you said in disbelief.

The girl with red hair giggled and said “ My name is Olive, that is Millard, and yes he was naked the whole time”

The only respond you had was an “Oh”

“My name is Bronwyn!” a little girl with brown curly hair said. You knelt in front of her “Hello Bronwyn, my name is y/n” you offered your hand to her which she accepted “I did not notice you immediately, young lady” you added and made Bronwyn giggle.

“Let’s go, Miss Peregrine would not appreciate not being on time” Olive said that prompted you to stand and follow her.

On the way to the entrance, you had small talks with the three of them while keeping track of every turn and step you took but you realized that you were approaching a cave near the beach. Realization hit you that if you were left on your devices to look for the entrance, it would take you so much time. After making sure that no one followed the three of you, you entered the loop and heard a ringing and a pop! That means you have successfully entered the loop. When you emerged from the small cave, you were surprised by the shift in the weather and atmosphere. It was sunny and everything was vibrant, there’s no sign of rain or fog, you could even hear the chirping of the birds and the laughter of the children as you neared the house. It was just a few weeks ago when this loop was made but this is perfect.

You saw the house in its glory and almost forgot what it looked like when you first saw it as a ruin. The sun had already set and lights were already lit but it did not make the grounds look less than perfect. When you stepped to the porch, the three children excused themselves to finish their chores, and when you were about to knock, the door swung open to reveal the silhouette of a woman about as tall as you with her hair done in an updo and she’s holding a pipe. The woman stepped outside and you finally saw what she looked like, and the first thought in your mind is that she’s beautiful and far from what you are expecting, her hair is dark with strands of dark blue which is probably a thing with the ymbrynes, her eyes are light blue reminding you of the sky and it is accentuated by her dark makeup around it, and her lips are rosy as if tempting you to kiss her. She took the pipe from her mouth and looked at you and you looked back at her and figured that comparing her eyes to the sky does not do her any justice for it also has some shade of green but can be mistaken for gray. But you still cannot remember where you first saw her.

“You must be Miss y/l/n. Alma Peregrine, delighted to meet you” she offered a hand which you accepted and the faster beating of your heart did not go unnoticed to you. “Yes, that would be me” the ymbryne looked from your head to your toe with a curious glint in her eyes before smiling widely “come in dear, welcome to our loop”

The smell of bread and vanilla inside the house was the first thing that reached your senses, you were welcomed by a house that gave you comfort and coziness.

“You have a very lovely loop Miss Peregrine” the woman smiled proudly and you thought that she looked even more beautiful when smiling “Thank you dear, and please call me Alma without the presence of the children”

“Then you can call me y/n” you smiled at her. She guided you to a room upstairs where you will be staying and before she left she placed a hand to your arm “The children are done for supper and I’ll bring some foods here, you may rest early if you wish”

You sat in the bed before responding to the woman “good night, Alma” then she smiled at you and closed the door. And you were sure that if she would smile at you often, you would already be a happy woman with that alone.

#miss peregrine x reader #miss peregrine movie #miss peregrines home for peculiar children #alma peregrine #alma peregrine x reader #mphfpc #miss peregrine fic

104 notes · View notes

delightfully-deranged-dagur · 3 years

Text

Okay, I'm just gonna write out my main ideas for my Reimagined Monster High. Here we go.

-it takes place in a world where monsters are outnumbered and shunned by humans, so monsters are forced to basically live in secret. Away from humans, in their own secret communities.

-The school itself was founded by Nora Bloodgood. Monster High was the first school of its kind to accept all kinds of monsters and has been running for hundreds of years. Also, it's a boarding school.

-The story will be mostly character driven with the main players being,

-Toralei Stripe. A werecat.

An orphan adopted by Headmistress Bloodgood. Toralei made friends with twin sisters Meowlody and Purrsephone Moon. Unfortunately, the 3 of them became the biggest bullies in the school. Though the twins were much more worse then Toralei. The twins were send to juvy after "the freezer incident".

"The freezer incident", Without Toralei's knowledge, the twins played their most dangerous prank of all. They locked Deuce Gorgon, a cold blooded monster into the school freezer, resulting in him almost freezing to death.

After that, Toralei took a long, hard look in the mirror and decided to change. Trying to redeem herself. So far most students are still untrusting of her. But 2 of them have forgiven her and became her friends, those 2 being...

-Clawdeen Wolf and Draculaura. A werewolf and vampire couple.

Clawdeen is a fashion designer with quite a following. Monsters love her designs and she's gotten quite a lot of commissions.

She always speaks her mind and has an extreme dislike for lies and liars. She's also fiercely loyal and protective of her friends and family, especially her younger siblings, Clawd and Howleen.

Draculaura is vegetarian vampire, no meat or blood for her. Unfortunately, due to her diet she's also extremely vulnerable to direct sunlight and always carries a parasol or umbrella with her.

Draculaura is one of, if not the most kind person in the school. And yet, there's some hints she's got a dark past. She's 1599 years old, so of course she has some secrets she doesn't want anyone to know about.

-Frankie Stein. One of the 3 new students at the beginning of the story.

Frankie is only a month old and still doesn't quite understand how the world works. She only knows stuff from outdated teen girl magazines. So, yeah. She knows nothing.

Frankie is assigned as Toralei's new roommate. Which means Toralei is half the time busy with making sure Frankie doesn't piss off the entire student body with her antics. Luckily she's helped by Clawdeen and Draculaura.

The 3 of them become Frankie's guides to life. With varying degrees of success.

-Gil Webber. The 2nd of 3 new students at school.

Gil was raised by highly abusive and bigoted parents. Constantly talking about how dangerous and despicable other monsters are. They sheltered Gil never letting him outside or go to the surface. Gil grew up terrified of the world.

Eventually, word got out about Gil's situation and the authorities got involved. Gil's parents were arrested and Gil was taken to Monster High and put in the care of Nora Bloodgood.

Gil is assigned as the new roommate of...

-Deuce Gorgon. Half gorgon, half human.

Deuce has lived for thousands of years since ancient Greece. Son of medusa and inherited her stone gaze. If he looks someone in the eye, they turn to stone. Luckily, since Deuce is half human the gaze is only temporary. And it doesn't work on monsters made out of stone or the undead. Like ghosts, zombies and mummies.

Deuce is a nervous wreck. Freezer trauma notwithstanding, he's constantly worried about dropping his sunglasses and turning someone to stone. He's also insecure about his skills as a chef and artist. He tries to look cool and laid back but he's not fooling anyone.

The snakes on his head are named, Jefferson, Addison, Carson, Maddison and Ed. He treats them as younger siblings even though they're all the same age.

Deuce has some trouble helping Gil not being afraid of everything. So he finds help from other water monsters. Sirena Von Boo? Too ditzy. Finnegan Wake? Comes on too strong. So his only choice is...

-Lagoona Blue. Half Sea monster, Half Water nymph.

Lagoona is bubbly, kind, carefree and very much a Himbo. She's genderfluid so they go by any pronouns he feels like at the moment.

They have 2 passions. Sports. And helping people out. And Gil is just the person that desperately needs Lagoona's help.

-Cleo De Nile. A mummy.

A princess who disowned her family because of how horrible they were. Cleo's lived long enough to know that being bad doesn't get you anywhere.

She's kind, understanding, and extremely generous. She's a natural born leader who takes charge when needed.

-Billy Where. An invisible man.

Billy, or "Invisi-Billy" as some call him is a theater kid at heart. Aside from that Billy also loves discovering the unknown and mysterious.

While his father is invisible all the time, Billy can control his visibility at will. He can even make other objects or people he's touching invisible.

Billy was assigned a new dorm room by Headmistress Bloodgood. A room down in the catacombs. He was put there cuz Bloodgood believes he can help the student living down there with his problems. That student being...

-Johnny Spirit. An unchained ghost.

Johnny died during the late 50s and he's got the greaser look down pat.

Johnny refuses to leave the catacombs and interact with other students, he does not wanna get involved or get attached to anyone. So he does not like having a roommate forced upon him.

And yet, as time goes on Johnny starts caring for Billy and thinking of him as a friend. Eventually trusting him enough to tell him the reason why he shut himself off. The story of how he died.

But that's a story for another time. ;P

Other important characters include,

Abbey Bominable. 3rd new student. She's blunt and likes photography. She has no roommate but gets taken in by,

Clawd Wolf and Heath Burns. Boyfriends that guide Abbey through the school and drag her into their shenanigans and schemes.

Ghoulia Yelps. Cleo's best friend and assistant. Genius.

Jackson Jekyll and Holt Hyde. Mad scientist and laid back DJ sharing a body.

Neightan Rot. Gay zombicorn. Can go from dishevelled hobo to fabulous drag queen in 10 seconds.

Spectra Vondergeist. Ghost "reporter" that runs the ghostly gossip.

And many more students.

So that's my basic idea. What do you think?

Feel free to leave questions about other students and their roles and what kind of plans I have for this au.

323 notes · View notes

cupofsapphics · 3 years

Note

Hey for the request can you do maybe a fluff season 3 cordelia please. Cordelia asks the reader to become her girlfriend?

Oh! That is an absolutely great idea! Here you go, I hope you like it <3

Greenhouse Girlfriends

Summary: You and Cordelia share a fond adoration of herbs and plants. Cordelia has developed a crush over the months and is gathering up the courage to ask you to be her girlfriend. (Cordelia already became the Supreme and Madison never died in this one)

H/C=hair color E/C=eye color

Warnings: none; just fluff and romance :)

Taglist: @delias-bitch-craft @winters-witch-bitch @paulawand @nyx-aira @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @d14n4ol (let me know if you want to be added and be specific to which ones; ex: sarah paulson fics)

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

It has been one month since Cordelia had gone public with the coven. She knew that there were so many witches out there, needing help but she didn’t expect so much in such a little amount of time. It was always constantly either welcoming new witches, teaching ones, paperwork, or occasional disputes between Zoe and Madison. You’d think they’d grow up by now. Every day, it was a repetitive cycle. Wake up, breakfast, paperwork, teaching, lunch, teaching, paperwork, sleep. Until something new came into the cycle: you.

Cordelia looked at her schedule. She had a new witch called Y/N coming in an hour. She stood up and sighed. Being supreme was no easy task but it was for the sake of the coven. She was not going to be her mother. Before she knew it, the doorbell rang. Cordelia smoothed out invisible wrinkles off her dress and she made her way to the door. When she did open it, she stopped breathing. You were stunning and Cordelia thought she was seeing things now. Beautiful H/C hair framed your face with your E/C eyes sparkling. Then there was your smile. It was so bright Cordelia was sure it could light up a room. To say it was love, at first sight, was an understatement. She was so taken in by your beauty that she forgot to let you in. “Oh! Right, I am so sorry. My name is Cordelia Goode and I am the headmistress and Supreme of this coven.” You were in awe of the Supreme she was so beautiful with her blonde hair and wide eyes. You didn’t even notice that it’s been minutes since she opened the door because you were busy staring at her features, only to blink away when she started talking.

Over time, Cordelia was always looking around the Academy for you and your radiating beauty. You could always cheer her up when she woke up on the wrong side bed. As she wandered around looking for you, she found you in the greenhouse. As Cordelia stood by the doorway, she was in awe of how cute you looked right now. When your focusing, a little bit of your tongue would stick out, which Cordelia found absolutely adorable, your messing hair tied in a ponytail. It was obvious you really wanted to nail this potion. “I see you like plants and potions.” You jumped a little from the voice, only to turn around to face the Supreme in all her glory. You dusted your hands off a little as your eyes were too shy to meet hers. “Yeah, I accidentally cut myself on the way here and I’m currently making a potion to heal the cut.” Once Cordelia heard the word cut, her eyes darted around looking for a mark or a spot of red around your body. You lifted your right hand to reveal a gash a little bit smaller than your hand. Cordelia internally panicked because, at this rate, you could faint from that much blood loss. She took your hand in hers and as she inspected it, you closed your eyes to the newfound softness of Cordelia’s hand. You and Cordelia talked a bit, getting to know each other as Cordelia quickly whisked up a salve to put on your hand. Two minutes later, the cut was completely healed. You flexed your hand, impressed. “So I’m guessing you’re the resident healer?” The Supreme laughed, which was like music to your ears. “You could say that.”

It’s been about 3 months since you first came to the coven and you and Cordelia have basically been inseparable. Everywhere she went, you went. Anytime, anyone ever needed something from one of you, they would just ask the other. You and Cordelia’s most often hanging spot would be the greenhouse. Unlike the rest of the coven, you and her share an affinity for plants and herbs. That’s pretty much how you two started coming close. Cordelia was definitely the more experienced one, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t teach you. As both of you spent more time with each other, you both fell in love with each other. Cordelia loved your humor, how shy you were, and your gentleness. You loved Cordelia’s kindness, patience, and skill. Cordelia knew she couldn’t bottle these feelings forever, so she took action.

One day, you received a note in your bedroom from Cordelia telling you to go to the greenhouse. Slowly walking up to the greenhouse, lights, and brightness started to come into your view. When you came in, you were shocked. Inside the greenhouse were soft lights, candles, roses, and your dear Delia. As your eyes darted between all the objects in the room. You approached Cordelia. “Uh, what is this?” Cordelia smiled softly. God, how you loved that smile. “Y/N, I really love your humor and gentleness. Ever since you came into the coven, you’ve done nothing but brought joy into my life. Will you be my girlfriend?” Your hands came to cover your mouth. Your eyes became glassy. You were so taken with her question. You nodded. “I will.” You and your new girlfriend then went inside to cuddle and be with each other at last.

#cordelia x reader #cordelia goode x reader #cordelia foxx x reader #cordelia foxx #cordelia goode #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #ahs coven

114 notes · View notes

btsinwonderland · 3 years

Text

A Drop of Poison - Ch. 10: Memories

A Loki fanfiction!

Previous Chapter --- Next Chapter

Full Chapter List

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

You woke at the howl of the wind outside. It was still dark out and you glanced at an old wooden clock on the wall; you had only dozed off for an hour or so. It was just two hours past midnight, and though you wanted to return to your dorm room, it was too dangerous to venture outside without the invisibility cloak.

Professor Laufeyson had shifted back onto the pillow in your sleep, and there he slumbered perfectly still but for the rise and fall of his bare chest. He laid on his back with one hand above his head, underneath the pillow. The way his face was so calm made you smile. There was no mask, just a gentle expression.

You lifted yourself off the bed to find the washroom. All the professors had private washrooms in their quarters, so your search ended after a quick dash up the staircase. When you completed your trip, you returned to Professor Laufeyson’s bedroom.

One passing glance at his desk made you stop. There was a drawer you opened before that intrigued you when you were searching for bandages. You walked over to the desk and your fingers hesitated above the handle. It was not good to snoop and you should be going back to bed. With him. You gulped.

Any sleep that you felt before now evaded you. Your arms and legs felt sore from branches whipping you in the forest. At the time you felt nothing since there was so much adrenaline in your body, but after that your body ached. And amidst the pain, any dreams you remembered from the last hour were filled with bright yellow eyes and bloodstained teeth. A shiver of fear ran down your arms at the thought of the beast. There was no way you could sleep now.

You opened the drawer and once again, an ethereal pool of silver and white faced you. You gazed at it in wonder and crouched over the drawer, trying to get a closer look. For a moment, you thought you saw faces floating in the bowl. As you looked closer still, something pulled your mind into the pool and you were no longer in Professor Laufeyson’s bedroom.

A kitchen faced you, with glossy wooden counters cut from fine lumber and large candles aflame on the countertops. There was Headmistress Frigga, looking years younger, in a yellow dress with her hair down. She paid no attention to you at all, as if you were not there. For a brief second, you wondered if you were back in the book Spells for the Common House Cat. But this felt different...

A young boy sat at the counter. He could not be a day over six, and tapped his hands on the surface excitedly. “Mother, I’m hungry!”

“Just a moment, precious, let me whip you up a nice salted caramel shake, hmm?” She said and twirled her want in a circle. A medium-sized glass, filled to the brim with a brown looking milky liquid, appeared in front of the boy. His black hair shone in the candlelight and his eyes glinted.

Then, another boy, slightly younger than the first, with bright blonde hair, ran into the kitchen. “Mother! Mother! I want a shake too! How come Loki always gets a special drink and not me!”

The boy, Loki, laughed at his brother and took the glass with both hands. “It’s because I’m clearly Mother’s favourite, Thor.”

Frigga turned away from the boys for a moment as they argued, but you saw her expression. It was filled with pain.

Before you could observe any further, you were whisked away into another place.

You were in an empty classroom, and for a second you thought you were back in Hogwarts. But the colour of everything was slightly off, and everything looked hazy. You gasped when Professor Rattowl burst through the door of the classroom and dragged a lanky black-haired boy into the centre of the room.

“Sit down, you scoundrel!” Rattowl said with an awful scowl.

You walked around him to see the boy. His hair was down to his shoulders and incredibly messy, as if he had gotten into a scuffle. It was Professor Laufeyson, though he seemed a year or two younger than you at this moment. His expression was one of youthful arrogance. He threw daggers at Rattowl with a careless sort of glare.

“I clearly won that duel,” Loki said, a smile creeping up on his lips.

Rattowl looked as if he might actually strike him. “You, boy, are a curse to this school! You’ve injured one of our best students with your dark magic! The only thing left of your terrible father’s legacy!”

Loki nearly stood, eyes aflame. “Do not speak of my father with such insolence! Odin is your minister and a hero!”

Rattowl scoffed at Loki. “Are you truly such an imbecile to think that the great Odin Borson is your father?”

“You’re lying!” Loki hissed.

A woman entered the room with a glass full of a brown drink. It looked similar to what you saw previously, but a little more chunky - as if she made it in haste. “Here love, drink this, it’ll make you feel better.”

Loki eyed the glass. “I don’t want anything.”

The woman and Rattowl looked at each other, and an understanding seemed to pass through them.

“Drink it, boy!” Rattowl yelled. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Loki, whose body thrashed against the chair and then stiffened. Loki emitted the glowing green light from his hands, struggling against the pressure that held him down.

The woman force fed him the drink as he sputtered and coughed, nearly choking. She kept whispering, “I’m sorry, love” as she poured it down his throat. The green light of his magic faltered and eventually fizzled away the more he drank.

You recoiled at the horror of the whole thing and even tried to push the woman away, but your hands merely went through her form.

Rattowl threw a tan handkerchief at Loki when the woman left. “Your so-called father is here. Clean yourself up before you talk to the Minister, boy.”

A couple minutes of silence and solitude passed as Loki sat in the chair, alone. You saw his eyes well up and the most heartbroken expression on his face. Tears stung your own eyes as you felt waves of despair emanate from him.

The door creaked open, and you glanced at the hefty form of Odin arriving. You looked at Loki, who had now wiped away his tears and put on a mask of such stoicism that no one would believe he was nearly sobbing seconds ago.

The door shut with a bang as Odin slowly walked towards Loki. His single eye was shrewd and unfeeling.

“What am I?” Loki said, his eyes were sunken in and red as he slowly stood.

“You’re my son.”

Loki glanced at his hands and though they trembled, he emitted a weak orb of green light that flickered out in seconds. He looked up at Odin, eyes steely. “What more than that?”

Odin paused for several seconds. The silence dragged on. “During the Great Battle, we defeated the Dark One. In the rubble of the castle, we found a child. A small child, left to die. Farbauti’s son.”

“Farbauti...the Dark One’s son.”

“Yes.”

Loki looked at Odin with eyes that were wide and similar to a child that lost its mother at a supermarket; hopeless and frightened. “Why? You were knee deep in the blood of dark wizards. Why would you take me?”

“You were an innocent child.” Odin stood with his chin held high, as if he were the only man in the world that knew the burden of it all.

Loki shook his head. “No, you took me for a purpose. What was it? TELL ME!”

“I took you in to show the wizarding world that mercy was a better path than revenge. There was enough bloodshed, and with you we could prove that dark magic is a choice, not something passed down through blood.” At the last sentence, he looked at Loki squarely in the face, as a warning.

“And you just happened to become Minister of Magic a year later? S-so I was just no more than a tool for your promotion, locked up until you might have more use for me?”

Odin frowned. “Why do you twist my words?”

“You could have told me what I was from the beginning, why didn’t you?”

“You’re my son. I wanted only to protect you from the truth.”

“W-what, because I’m the son of the monster that parents tell their children about at night?” Loki said as he staggered back and nearly fell, trying to sit down on the chair. Tears welled up in his eyes and he looked hurt beyond recognition. The pain was raw and unyielding.

However, in a matter of seconds, it dissolved into anger. How quickly he switched to a more comfortable emotion than pain. You looked at Odin, who now clenched his jaw and fists, confirming to you that this habit was something Loki picked up from his father.

“You know it all makes sense now, why you favoured Thor all these years! Because no matter how much you claim to love me, you could never truly love someone with the blood of the Dark One!”

Odin winced and held his chest, beginning to convulse. Loki stopped, anger vanished, and ran to his father who fell to the ground.

“Help! Somebody help!” Loki shouted, tears in his eyes.

Rattowl stormed in and threw Loki aside. “What did you do to him!”

You cried out for Loki and just as soon as you stepped towards the poor teenage boy, now crumpled on the floor, he disappeared in a swirl of blue and grey.

Once again, you were taken away, and then landed in a very unfamiliar place.

It was a room with black tiled floors, walls, and ceilings. There were two large boxes of seats at the end of the room with a tall bench in the middle. In the centre there was a tiny podium surrounded by piles and piles of papers and files on various desks riddled around the room.

Odin sat atop the centre bench, above everything, with a mallet beside him. He looked furious and his visible eye blazed with anger. The centre podium was empty while the surrounding desks and tables were occupied with witches and wizards typing on typewriters and writing in notebooks fervently. The boxes along the side walls were filled with several witches and wizards, all speaking at the same time, whispering and gasping.

“Order! We will have order!” Odin roared, mallet hitting the bench once. The group silenced immediately.

The floor beneath the small podium opened up and there emerged Loki, slightly older and more deranged looking. He rose from a pedestal on the floor, wrapped up in chains from his feet, to his hands, all the way to his neck. The skin under his eyes was purple and bruised looking from lack of sleep; he had a cut on his lip as if someone had punched him; and his clothes were burnt and charred in some spots. He looked a complete mess.

Loki gazed around the room and laughed. His laugh only faltered when he glanced at Frigga near the back. He turned towards to Odin. “I really don’t see what all the fuss is about.”

Odin looked down at him from the bench. “Do you truly not feel the gravity of your crimes? Wherever you go there is death, destruction and ruin.”

“I went down to the muggle realm to rule - er - manage them as a benevolent god. Just like you.”

“We are not gods, we are born, we live, we die just as muggles do.”

Loki leaned forward. “Give or take a bit of magic.”

“All this because Loki desires power?”

Loki stopped smiling and nearly growled the words. “It is what I was meant for!”

Odin glowered at him. “You were meant to die! As a child, cast out in the ruins of a broken kingdom. If I had not taken you in, you would not be here now to hate me.”

Loki was silent at Odin’s remark and his mask returned. It was cold as he received the sentence from his father.

“You will be sent to Azkaban for your crimes, Loki Laufeyson, for the disturbance of a muggle gathering; revealing the existence of magic to muggles; endangering muggle lives; and…” Odin paused to take a breath, “for the murder of Ministry auror, Tyr Reyja, with the use of the forbidden killing curse.”

You felt like your head was going to split open. “No more, no more!” you said, clasping your ears.

You were sucked out, and you yelled as it felt as though your mind was being ripped apart.

You slammed back against the wall and fell on the floor as you checked your surroundings. It was Professor Laufeyson’s bedroom, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You shut the drawer with your foot and slowly got up, though your head was swimming. It was similar to the book, but you recalled Heimdall discussing the Pensieve: a well of memories for a wizard to file away for their personal review at their leisure.

A part of you felt ashamed at what you saw, but your heart mostly ached for him. You rose and walked over to the bed. His gentle face reminded you so much of that little boy waiting for his mother to give him a meal. The last thing you saw was the murder sentence. It hung over you like the poisoned tip of a sword. The man you saw now did not seem like a murderer, though he was extremely unpredictable.

You laid beside him, and he stirred at your movements. His eyes slowly opened, and he caught you staring at him. “Should you not be sleeping?” He said dreamily.

“I-I was having nightmares about Fenris.” That’s partially true, you thought guiltily.

“Oh, don’t worry about that shaggy beast,” he closed his eyes and grabbed your waist, dragging you right up against his body. You turned to face away from him as your heart pounded loudly in your chest and he encased your body and wrapped his arm around you, just above your chest. His warm breath blew against the back of your neck and your insides quivered. “You’re safe now,” he whispered, and you felt his lips brush your shoulder as he spoke.

Butterflies flew up your throat, and you stiffened. But being in his arms, and feeling his warm body gripping you, made you feel...surprisingly happy. It was not a feeling you were familiar with, but as your heart raced, you gradually fell asleep and, suffice to say, had much better dreams.

------------------- Post chapter comments

I definitely was going to schedule this for Wednesday but messed something up, so you get it one day earlier! lol. Enjoy ;)

22 notes · View notes

siswritesyanderes · 4 years

Note

Could please write some headcanons about platonic yandere Harry for his twin brother? Sorry if I'm bothering you....

(You’re never bothering me by sending asks/requests! I’m sorry this ended up shorter than I meant for it to be; I had all my ideas fairly ironed out, but I kept getting daunted by my own plan for how long I wanted to make it, so over and over again I just stopped working on it, and then I thought, How about post what you have and then continue it if someone asks you to? So that’s what I’m doing.)

...

They looked nearly identical. It was just that Liam’s scar was across his ear instead of on his forehead, and he didn’t have the defiant edge that made Harry’s eyes and jaw look harder. Liam genuinely wanted the Dursley’s to think that he was good, and it broke Harry’s heart, because he knew that it would never happen.

It sharpened him all the more, to see his brother legitimately trying to earn their approval and only getting hurt for his troubles.

Liam hadn’t gained the same quick reflexes that Harry had; with minimal clues, Harry knew when Dudley would suddenly come barreling down the hallway, and he knew how to jump aside. Liam was too unobservant, and too clumsy; Dudley would shove him into the wall if Harry didn’t pull him out of the way in time, and still he would say, “Good morning, Dudley,” or “That looks fun, Dudley.”

Harry knew, somehow, that it was his own fault when Liam, one day, appeared to suddenly and only for a moment become impossibly dense, causing Dudley to topple to the floor when he tried to shove him, but it was still Liam who had been punished for it when Dudley went and burst into tears.

And then there was the hair. Aunt Petunia had been willing to chop off all of Harry’s hair on account of it being “unruly” (leaving only the fringe, to cover his scar; that style had looked so stupid that it had magically grown back overnight, but that was another story); she couldn’t do the same with Liam, because his scar was so inconveniently placed that his hair had to stay long in order to cover it. This led to several agonizing mornings of Aunt Petunia combing at Liam’s hair so hard that he cried, and yet he was still the one who apologized to her, for having such hair to begin with.

And once again, Liam was the one who got punished when Aunt Petunia’s comb suddenly seemed impossible to grab ahold of, and again Harry knew somehow that he was really the one to blame.

All of these incidents, too many to count and more than they even remembered, solidified Harry’s conviction that his brother needed his protection.

So on the day when the two of them suddenly got letters after having never received mail of their own once in their lives, Harry hid them in his trousers until nightfall, then pulled them out in the cupboard they shared. It was nearly impossible to read in such dim light, but through their combined efforts, they discovered that the pair of letters were in fact very similar in content. They told of a school. A school of magic.

And Harry saw it for the escape it was.

The next day, he pulled out a phone book and searched for the name Minerva McGonagall, as it had been signed on the bottom of both letters, but he couldn’t find any such person.

(Disheartening. A bit of doubt curled inside him, that maybe Hogwarts had been someone’s idea of a joke. But he would rescue his brother from this house; it was decided now, whether Hogwarts was real or not.)

The day after, he absconded from the Dursleys’ house with Liam (never releasing his brother’s hand, as they traversed the city; people were dangerous, and Liam was naive; he was only safe with Harry) and searched for the place called “The Leaky Cauldron”.

This, they did find. It was an odd, cozy-looking place, and it exploded inexplicably into excited chatter and jubilant shouts when people noticed Harry and Liam there.

“You can’t be the Potter boys,” one man gasped, in an awed tone as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.

Harry tightened his grip on his brother, who looked overwhelmed by all the attention, and scowled to communicate to the gathering crowd that he could be dangerous even if he was only ten. “Why can’t we?” he asked flippantly. “And why do you know us?”

It was then and there that the boys were informed of their legendary past: of Lord Voldemort and how they had thwarted him and how the world of witches and wizards viewed them as heroes.

This time, when Harry inquired as to where he might find a Minerva McGonagall, he was successful. The pair of them turned up at the deputy headmistress’s home and, when she welcomed them in with a furrowed brow and a tray of biscuits, he laid bare the details of the Dursleys’ cruelty and neglect. He could handle their treatment for himself, but Liam needed to be kept out of their reach.

And he was.

Pale-faced and horrified, McGonagall exchanged a surprisingly swift series of owls (They sent letters using owls, of all things.) with Headmaster Dumbledore that ended with the twins recounting the details of their mistreatment once more, this time to Ministry officials (the Ministry of Magic, an idea which dazzled Liam) and then being placed under the temporary guardianship of McGonagall, until someone could get in contact with the Dursleys. (Apparently, there was something about a protective spell tied to Aunt Petunia’s blood, and Dumbledore was convinced it could be salvaged without allowing the family to continue abusing the boys; Harry doubted it.)

That night, he and Liam were offered separate guest bedrooms in McGonagall’s home, but Harry refused to sleep apart, even if Liam was intrigued by the idea of having his own bed, in a room all to himself. Liam was too trusting, too vulnerable.

One day, Harry would make sure he had a bed to himself. When it was safe. For now, though, they had to stay together.

Liam kept trying to run off, though!

When McGonagall took them to get their school supplies, Liam kept wandering when Harry’s attention was elsewhere. He never went far; always just one aisle away, or staring through the window one shop over while Harry was looking at the broom shop. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for something bad to happen, and Harry could only pay attention to so many things, in this bustling place. He couldn’t very well make Liam keep holding his hand if his brother was determined to squirm and stray. All he could do was implore him to keep still.

Overhearing Harry’s protestations, McGonagall interjected, “Pardon me, Mr. Potter, but I think you’ll find that the pair of you are safer, here, than you may think.”

“Why? Because you’re here?” Harry asked, not bothering to hide his skepticism. McGonagall had helped them so far, but he wouldn’t stake their wellbeing on her.

“There is that,” McGonagall allowed primly. “But I wouldn’t understate the fact that the two of you draw far too much attention for anyone to feasibly harm you, at least without being noticed.”

This was a welcome introduction to something Harry had failed to consider; in the Muggle world, they were invisible, but here, yes, there had to be some safety in being so seen.

But there was danger in it, too. All of this attention, it was asking for trouble. That was for him to manage; the safety and the danger of fame.

#yandere harry potter #twin brother

201 notes · View notes

kalimagik · 4 years

Text

Red with Rage

George Weasley x Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

A/N: This was a request by @siriusly-addicted-to-writing - I’m sorry it took awhile to write, but when I started, I just couldn’t stop! But I hope that you like it! My requests are open to anyone who would like to request something! I have a few others that I will be working on, but I promise that I’ll get to them at some point! If you like, give it a like, reblog, comment, or send me a message! Enjoy and happy reading! <3<3

*Not my GIF - credits to owner

“No, no. That’s too obvious,” Fred grumbled as he kept his head close to George’s, whispering.

“That’s the beauty of it Freddie! She won’t even see it coming!” George argued in return.

The twins were doing their best to keep their voices down. Umbridge was either slinking around, eavesdropping or had Filch doing it for her. He’d already ruined plenty of their plans to cause chaos around Hogwarts. Everyone had just returned from the Christmas Holiday and the semester already seemed to be going in the toilet. Umbridge brought everyone’s moods down the moment they stepped foot in the castle. So, naturally, Fred and George had to fix that.

“Fred, I’m telling you. Doing something to her tea would be a masterpiece. We could easily make her breath smell like dragon testicles, no problem!” George whisper yelled at his brother.

“That would be a punishment for anyone who has to stand near her during detention, it isn’t worth it!” Fred tried to explain again.

“Well then I don’t know what we’re going to do!” George threw up his hands, leaning back in frustration.

“Hello, boys!” Y/N grinned as she sat on the bench across from the twins.

“Y/N,” Fred nodded before returning his attention to the paper in front of him.

“Hello there, love,” George smiled as he leaned over the small table to peck his girlfriend’s lips. “Give her a bit more of a welcome, Freddie.” George joked.

“My apologies, Y/N, but I can’t focus on much until we come up with a way to get at that TOAD,” Fred emphasized, scratching his head again.

“OOOO, are we planning pranks? Count me in!” Y/N pulled away from George and tried to glance at the paper in front of Fred.

“No, not happening, love!” George pulled the paper from Fred’s fingers and stuffed it into his pocket.

“WHAT?! Why not! Common!” Y/N’s mouth hung open as she pleaded with her boyfriend.

“Yeah, why not?” Fred asked. “We could really use a fresh set of eyes. PLUS, she’s a pro!”

“What he said!” Y/N agreed, trying to give George her biggest pouty eyes.

“No, I’m not risking it. I don’t want her to get in trouble if we mess something up or get caught.” George looked right at Fred as if Y/N wasn’t sitting right across from her.

That’s when the twins’ back and forth became them conversing in their own little world. It always amused Y/N when this happened.

“George, before you two started dating, she was the mastermind behind half our pranks! I don’t think she ever got caught once!”

“But I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if she had to endure detention with the toad.”

“She’s never had detention before! What makes you think it’ll happen this time.”

“This woman is unpredictable. She is probably listening to us right now. We know that she has targets on our backs.”

“We would totally take the blame if we are caught though. There is no way Y/N will get in trouble.”

“As cute as this is, guys, I can make my own decisions.” Y/N waved her hands in between the twins.

“Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to leave you out there.”

“It’s okay, I’m used to you two having your own little code.” She replied as she rolled her eyes.

“I really don’t know if it’s a good idea.” George shook his head. Y/N knew he was just being protective over her, but she could take care of herself and that was supposedly one of the things George loved about her.

“Georgie, we need her. You have to admit it. She will bring this planning to a whole new level. We need some fresh ideas.”

“Fine,” George sighed as he watched his brother and girlfriend high-five in victory. His heart was in the right place, but he knew deep down that he was never going to convince these two that Y/N joining in wasn’t a good idea.

“Now that that’s settled, let me hit you with my ideas. I have been kept on the outside for these last few months, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been conspiring on my own.”

Y/N laid her plan out for the twins. She had escape routes planned out, look-out positions, distractions involving Peeves and unsuspecting students. The boys watched in awe as she told them every last detail. When she finished, Fred turned to George, wearing a shit-eating grin. “Tell me why we’ve been leaving her out of our pranks again?”

In all honesty, George wasn’t sure. She was an evil genius. The prank would be set in motion the next day. Y/N had already tracked Dolores Umbridge’s schedule, so that recon was already taken care of. George was amazed but also slightly terrified of his girlfriend. As long as she never turned her talents on him…actually, he would be honored for her to pull a prank on him. Pranks this detailed were a work of art in the eyes of the Weasley Twins.

George walked down the hallway with his brother, carrying loads of books in their arms. As they passed Umbridge’s chambers, Fred tripped over air, causing both him and George to drop all of their books. Y/N had Peeves causing a ruckus in the Astronomy Tower, so the twins dropping their books was just a back-up. In the commotion, Y/N slipped into Umbridge’s rooms under the invisibility cloak she had borrowed from Harry. How Y/N found Umbridge’s chambers and learned to get inside, George did not want to know, but their plan was going perfectly.

By the time the boys picked up the hordes of books they didn’t need, Y/N had slipped back out of the door. She was careful to stay behind the boys as they cleared the way in the hallways all the way back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

“Everything go well?” George asked once they were safely tucked inside.

“No problems at all. Now, we just wait until the feast later. We’ll see if my concoction worked there. I bet Umbridge will be red with rage,” Y/N chuckled as she thought about what she had just done.

Y/N and the twins laid low for the rest of the evening, keeping their ears open. As 6 o’clock approached and students made their way down to the Great Hall, Y/N told the twins to keep their heads down. They would move with the crowds to keep from being suspected. Y/N had the timing perfectly. Umbridge always liked to make an entrance to feasts, so she always showered right before to be prim and proper.

Settling in between the twins, Y/N pretended to go about her business. The twins knew the full plan, but they truly didn’t know what to expect from this prank.

Y/N covered her mouth, pretending to rub her nose as she whispered, “5…4…” Y/N began counting as she watched the doors. “3…2…1”

As if on cue, Dolores Umbridge let out a wail that rang throughout Hogwarts. Her quick, small footsteps could be heard echoing off the stone as, Y/N assumed, Umbridge ran towards the Great Hall.

The doors flew open as the short “headmistress” stood in the opening. She had on a pink, ruffle bathrobe, hair still wet, but her skin and her hair were not their usual shades. They were maroon. Her skin and her hair were maroon. It was obvious that Umbridge had tried to run it off and tried to magic it off, but it was no use. The dye wouldn’t budge.

“Who- did this?” Umbridge’s sour, high-pitched voice gritted through her teeth. The laughter started off as chuckles that grew as more people became braver. Soon, the entire Great Hall was howling with laughter.

No one but Y/N and the twins knew anything about the prank, they were all stunned, but pleased. Seeing Umbridge outraged was always a good way to lift everyone’s spirits, especially when she would never catch the culprits.

Umbridge huffed in frustration as she stormed out of the Great Hall. Filch followed. Looking up at the staff table, Y/N could see wide smiles etched on the professor’s faces, despite them trying to hide it. Even McGonagall hid her smile behind her goblet.

“Well done, Y/N/N.” Fred whispered under his breath, low enough that the commotion drowned him out. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

“Love, that was brilliant. Maybe we should have brought you in earlier,” George praised, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s shoulders and pulling her into him so that he could press a kiss against her temple.

Picking up her cup, Y/N felt her smile grow because of her victory. Before taking a sip, she laughed, “I told you she would be red with rage.”

452 notes · View notes

isamijoo · 3 years

Text

Antidote

Written for @gameofdrarry Exploding Snap 2021. My card was:

Write a Drarry fic of 987-1625 words following this prompt: Immediately after the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco and Harry are advised to go to therapy or to see a Healer to help them develop appropriate coping strategies. How do they feel when they run into each other unexpectedly?

Title: Antidote

Author: isamijoo

Rating: T

Word Count: 1612

Tags: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Talks about Healers and Therapy, Invisibility Cloak, Astronomy Tower

A/N: I did have some trouble with this. I'm not comfortable writing about therapies so you can see how I avoided that and instead focused more on the boys, namely Draco. I purposely kept it short because of the word limit. I included bits of what I wanted to include, so the fic ends up feeling like random scenes thrown together, which doesn't sound really appealing. But I feel satisfied with how it turned out. Thank you to @sky-is-torn for the beta!

READ ON AO3

~~~

After the Battle of Hogwarts, the administration wanted to ensure the returning students would continue their education feeling secure and safe in all aspects. Thus, at the beginning of term, staff noticed a new door next to the Infirmary. The door, the Headmistress explained during the welcoming feast, led to the offices of two Mind Healers, Healer Park and Healer Algot.

Every student was required to meet either one of the Healers at least once. The first session was marked on each student’s schedule; skipping the session would cost house points and incur detentions.

Draco Malfoy was forced to return to Hogwarts as part of his sentencing. He joined the other Eighth Years, though he kept mostly to himself. Draco rarely sat in the Eighth Year Common Room because it was often taken up by Gryffindors, who made up a majority of their year.

Harry Potter was always around, but Draco never knew what the Saviour was up to.

Potter had cut his hair short, though still untamed and unruly. He was clean-shaven and sported a new pair of round-rimmed spectacles. He had also grown since sixth year. Perhaps now that the Dark Lord was dead, he finally had time to eat properly.

Sometimes their eyes would meet during classes or meals — silver with green. Potter would stare at him, unblinking. Draco was always the first one to look away.

~~~

When it was time for Draco to visit the Healers, he went without putting up a fuss.

He halted at the door when he saw Potter in the waiting room. Potter was seated in one of the two armchairs, slouched and flipping through a magazine. He hadn’t noticed Draco yet.

Draco walked to the registration desk, which was manned by a thin woman with greying hair. There were two white doors beside her, each labelled with the name of a Healer.

After registering, Draco was instructed to take a seat. The only available one was beside Potter, who now had his gaze fixated on Draco, magazine forgotten.

“Malfoy, how are you?” Potter smiled.

Draco lowered himself onto the armchair, back straight and hands folded in his lap. “I’m fine, thank you,” he said stiltedly.

“It’s good to see you here,” Potter said. “What are the odds of the two of us having a session at the same time? Maybe they arranged the timetable in alphabetical order."

Draco tilted his head and regarded Potter curiously, which made the other wizard chuckle nervously.

“You know, like the Sorting. I went directly after you.”

“The Sorting in first year? You remember that?”

Potter shrugged, mumbling, “I remember a lot of things about you.”

“Look, Potter,” Draco muttered wearily, cheeks warm. “Why are you talking to me?”

Potter rubbed the back of his neck. “We’re not children anymore, Malfoy. The war is over.”

Before he could retort, Draco was called to meet Healer Park while Potter went into Healer Algot’s office. Healer Park was a middle-aged gentleman with kind brown eyes. Draco wasn’t too forthcoming, so the Healer just asked him harmless ice-breaking questions. After an hour, the Healer gave him another appointment slip for the following week.

Potter got the same slip too.

Before they exited the waiting room, Potter suggested they grab some snacks from the kitchens. Draco grudgingly agreed; he was feeling bleak and could use some sweets to lift his mood.

As Potter led the way, Draco observed Potter’s gait. If Potter stood straight, he would be almost as tall as Draco. But now he walked with his shoulders hunched, as though the act of saving the wizarding world had also thrust its problems onto his teenage shoulders.

Draco wondered how much Potter knew about legends of the Greek Titans, of Atlas and the globe on his back. If Draco offered to tell the story, would Potter place his head on Draco’s lap and listen attentively, like Draco had done with his mother when he was a child?

In the kitchen, they sat together on a wooden bench, surrounded by treats and desserts. Potter talked openly and happily, as if enjoying Draco’s company. He remained this way — treating Draco in a friendly manner — until they reached Draco’s private dorm. He was the only Slytherin who had returned for Eighth Year so he had a room to himself.

“I had a great time, Malfoy.” Potter beamed. “I’ll see you around.”

Draco said nothing as he watched Potter walk away.

~~~

The following week, they met in the Healers’ waiting room again. Potter talked while Draco listened, basking in his attention and drinking in Potter’s bright green eyes and straight white teeth.

When Draco sat in front of Healer Park, he opened his mouth and, as though channelling Potter’s energy, shared his deepest regrets with a stranger with kind eyes.

~~~

The Healer had advised Draco to seek forgiveness.

Draco apologised to Potter at the Astronomy Tower, overlooking the school grounds while the cool breeze chilled him to the bones. Once the words were out, he couldn’t stop. His mind yanked at each of his mistakes, uprooting all his flaws from his first year, from the first time he spoke to Potter, from the moment he was born until he felt raw and sick.

He hadn’t noticed that while he spoke, Potter had gently guided him inside and sat them both on the steps. Potter was silent as tears streaked down Draco’s face.

When speech finally failed him, Draco wiped his face with a sleeve. Potter slid closer and engulfed Draco’s thin body in a hug.

Potter apologised for sixth year, for the scars on Draco’s chest, for failing to help when he could’ve.

Their first kiss, clumsy and laced with longing, tasted like rainwater.

~~~

Draco’s obsession with Potter was insatiable.

Potter was like an addictive potion. If you’d never had it, you could live and die happily, not knowing what you had missed. But once you get a taste, you’d want more and more and yet, it’d never be enough.

Draco couldn't count the number of times they dragged the other inside alcoves or empty classes for a snog. Potter’s lips were warm, delicious, sometimes even sweet. He kissed with a passion Draco envied, with his whole body leaning in and his hands all over Draco like a starving man.

Being the centre of Potter’s attention was like standing on the surface of the sun. Draco’s skin burned at every contact with Potter’s hard body, but with the heat came pleasure.

Draco was infatuated.

And maybe, just maybe, it was the same for Potter.

~~~

The first time Potter pulled off his Invisibility Cloak in front of Draco, the blond had yelped in surprise and accidentally banged his head against the headboard.

Potter climbed into Draco’s bed, clad in only a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. “Are you afraid of people finding out about us?” he asked, his warm body pressed to Draco’s side.

Draco shrugged. His father was in Azkaban, his mother was sentenced to home arrest for 15 years, his family name tainted, his family fortune would deplete quickly if he didn’t take over the family business once he graduated.

Draco didn’t want to think about the outside world. It was too scary.

But having this with Potter wasn't any less terrifying. Nobody would be pleased to learn that The Saviour was sharing a bed with a Death Eater. Any animosity would certainly be directed at Draco. He was a criminal, after all.

Potter had nothing to lose, while Draco would lose everything.

Suddenly his vision blurred and he found himself looking through a layer of translucent fabric. Potter had spread the Invisibility Cloak over them.

“There.” Potter sounded smug. “No one can see us now.”

Draco’s body shuddered with laughter as Potter rolled on top of him. The cloak cascaded down Potter’s head and Draco’s fingers brushed its velvety texture while they kissed under its cover.

Was taking pleasure in The Chosen One’s embrace a crime?

~~~

“You shouldn't have saved me,” Draco murmured one night, mouth pressed against Potter’s jugular as they both lay breathless, sweaty and sated. “You should have left me in the fire.”

Potter’s arms tightened around Draco's bare body, pulling him until his long pink scars kissed Potter's brown skin.

“I left you once,” Potter whispered, lips brushing Draco’s temple. “Never again.”

~~~

“Do your friends know about us?” Draco asked when Potter took his hand on their way to the Healers’ office.

“Er, yes,” Potter admitted sheepishly. “I’m bad at keeping this a secret. Are you upset?”

Draco glanced at their clasped hands pensively. “I’m not sure. I’m not sure how I feel about this. About us.”

“Maybe we should talk with the Healers,” Potter suggested when they reached the waiting room still holding hands. “Get their advice.”

“You want to ask them for relationship advice?” Draco said incredulously.

“Why not?” Potter grinned. “Although, I should tell you before we go in…" He stepped closer, and Draco couldn’t avoid gazing into his emerald eyes. “I really like you, Draco. I think I’m in love with you.”

Rasps escaped Draco’s throat as he struggled to respond.

Potter didn’t wait for any reply. He just smiled and kissed Draco's knuckles before entering his Healer's office.

Draco stood frozen for a good five minutes before he finally went into the other office and took his usual seat on the sofa opposite Healer Park.

"How are you today, Draco?" the Healer asked gently.

"I think…" Draco closed his eyes, picturing Potter's joyful smiles and hearing his own heartbeats loud in his ears. "I think I'm in trouble."

Healer Park appeared concerned. "How so?"

Sighing, Draco leaned back. "I'm falling… for Harry Potter."

#gameofdrarry #exploding snap #isamijoo #drarry fic #draco x harry

19 notes · View notes

lilliannelson · 4 years

Text

Maybe, Definitely

Summary: Reader is a long time guest at the Holmes’ Estate. They have been associated with the family for years. One conversation leads to a whole new outlook on the life they thought they knew.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Trigger Warning: Just fluff

A/N: Most definitely going to continue with a jump ahead in time. Let me know your thoughts!!

You had been staying at the Holmes’ Estate for a few weeks; a tradition that began 5 years before. You had entered society as a young lady and became acquainted with the youngest Holmes, Enola. To say you kept this tradition going for nothing more than the company of Enola and her elder brothers, was simply not at all truthful. While Mycroft made your blood boil more than you can count, and Enola being one of your best companions, your eyes always seemed to flitter towards Sherlock. He had many rungs to his social ladder but currently his consulting agency was thriving in the ever-crazy London Town. As intelligent as he is, he had rare moments of conversation with anyone other than his siblings. It seemed that he couldn’t be bothered by anyone else, which was a positive to the fact his business was blooming. He didn’t have to stay here all the time.

Right now, you’re walking about the large study of which held all of the best novels you could get your hands on in this day and age. You glance up and spot him. He’s tall, very tall. And he has the most gorgeous head of dark curls you have ever seen. You have been observing him from a far for a while. You couldn’t help but wonder what he would say next or if he would even give you the time of day.

‘There he is,’ you think, stopping yourself with the book you’re currently reading in hand looking out the large bay window to see him walking up the drive.

You blink and knock yourself out of the trance you were in. He may be opinionated and gorgeous, but you were better than that to drop yourself to his level. No man was ever worth it.

You continue to walk out the large French-style doors to the wooden swing that hung from your favorite tree in the side yard. The gardeners had done so well this year and the flowers that lined the path that led to your spot was exceptionally darling this time of year. Autumn was your favorite season, after all.

You sit on the swing and get lost in the book. Hours seem to have rolled by as the sun was on the brink of setting. You stretch and yawn as you suddenly realize your surroundings. You feel a set of eyes on your back. An intuition you’d grown to enjoy. You slowly swivel around to see him looking at you. You give him a shy smile and can see him capture his bottom lip with his teeth; a sort of kryptonite to you. As you stand, wiping off the front of you from some invisible outdoor dander, you walk towards him. He stands with his hands in his pockets. You suddenly feel the urge to run, but it subsides as you draw in closer to him.

“Hello,” his deep voice fills your ears.

“Hi,” you greet him back.

“I seem to always find you outside these days. What book are you reading?” You show him the book, a book of poems that he most likely has not read. “Never read that one.” ‘Ha, I knew it,’ you think.

“It’s good to switch up the type of writing sometimes.”

“Yes, it is.” His blue eyes keep your hazel ones, “Listen, I’m having dinner tonight, and I’d love it if you joined me.”

“What time?” Who were you and why were you accepting? Lowering yourself to his level was, again, something you didn’t want to do. But, it made sense to go to dinner with him, since you hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Your stomach rumbled as if on command.

“Right now, actually.” He grins, “Your stomach just gave you away.”

You match his grin, “It has. Shall I change?”

He shakes his head, “I don’t believe so. It’s just you and I.”

You feel a shade of pink flush your cheeks at the realization. But of course you knew it was just the two of you. His siblings and everyone else had already eaten. “Lead the way, then.”

——————————————————————————

You sit across from him at the large wooden dining room table. An extravagant floral arrangement was placed on the table prior to you two sitting down. He moves it over, allowing both of you to be able to meet eyes once more. He’d began to speak about a book he had read last week, and then the conversation moved to you.

“What would you like to know about me?” You take a dainty bite of the meal.

He sips his wine, “Everything.” You spot the grin he’s making behind his glass. This causes you to raise your eyebrow at him, looking down to your plate but also a small grin forms on your lips.

“I’m surprised you haven’t already come to one of your conclusions about me yet.” A little jab at him, but he pressed on.

“Where do you see yourself? The next 5 years?”

“That’s rather deep.”

“If you’d rather not answer, that’s quite alright. I can ask you something else.”

You grab the glass of wine, taking a big gulp before beginning, “Five years? Why not the next year?”

“Because it’s the most generic question people ask to get to know someone. And because I’m sure you have a list of ideas. I would love to hear your thoughts instead of coming to a conclusion.”

“Okay, well... I’ve been trying to read everything I can. I want to educate myself as much as possible. I want to write a book. I want to go to university and get a degree. I want to be a teacher. I-“ you stop when you meet his eyes. He’s so enamored by you in this moment.

“What kind of teacher?”

“English. I want to see a child’s eyes light up when they learn to read and understand the meanings of words and sentences. I used to play Headmistress when I was a child. I didn’t have any friends, but I made them up in my head. Probably why I am such an odd one nowadays.”

“You’re not odd. You’re intelligent. And any child would be lucky to have you as their teacher. Where are you planning on getting a degree?”

“Oxford. I know that it will be difficult to get into any program there, but I’m very certain I can do it. I am fully capable.”

“Yes, yes you are.” A silence falls over your conversation as you recollect all you said, and his eyes stay on you.

“Thank you,” you say in a small voice.

His eyebrows raise quizzically, “Whatever for?”

“For not making my want to teach seem like a death sentence.”

“Whoever has given you that idea?”

You look down to the table, fiddling with your fingers in your lap, “Oh, my uncle. And Mycroft.”

“Of course they have. I should’ve known.”

You shrug, “It’s the times we are living. I expect it most of the time. I can tune it out, it’s just tough sometimes.”

“If it helps any, Mycroft has always been that arrogant and self absorbed to the point he will do anything to raise his status.”

“It doesn’t, but thank you for trying.” You feel tears threatening to form in your eyes. After a beat, you blink them away, “How’s business in London?”

Sherlock frowns slightly, “It’s going. I’ve picked up quite a few new cases. Nothing too important yet, though.”

“I’m sure something will come up.”

“I hope so. I would hate to have to hang up the practice before its prime.”

“But it brings you joy. I have never seen someone so intricately indulge into their craft like you. I’m sure you’re the first one anyone at Scotland Yard thinks of when cases come in.” You look down bashfully when you see him gaping at you.

“I didn’t know you paid that much attention to me.” His grin exposes a dimple. He looks shy.

“You’re Sherlock Holmes. How is that possible?”

“When it comes to my personal life, I tend to refuse to sink into any inklings I may have. I’m much better at helping others, if that makes sense.”

You nod, “It does.”

“You pay this kind of attention to everyone else?”

“Only the ones that are intriguing to me.”

“And what about me is intriguing?” His voice is low.

“Your knowledge, your composure, your personality.” You take another gulp of your wine, calming down your growing pulse, “I like observing you in your natural habitat.”

“Why?”

“Because you act like you don’t have feelings, but it shows in the way you present yourself. The slight grin you get on your face when someone outsmarts you regarding something you were sure no one else could. The other day when Mycroft was sure to prove me wrong, and I told him off, you had this look on your face...” You quickly change your tone, “I will never not laugh at his reaction.”

Sherlock has leaned forward, as if having to prove he was paying attention to you, but his eyes are semi-glazed over as if lost in thought.

“Sherlock?”

“Hmm?” That knocks him out of his daze.

“Did I say too much?”

“No, no. I don’t believe you said too much at all.”

“Shall I continue?”

“Please.”

“I do believe your attachment to Enola is very sweet. She is just like you. She idolizes you, more than she lets on to your face.”

“She does?”

Nodding, you continue, “She and I are friends, after all. She and Mycroft make the air very tense when they are around each other, but when she’s in any room with you, it’s very calm. You’d think it would be the opposite, because you both are attentive, but that’s not the case.”

“You are very good at paying attention.”

“It’s my gift. I tune into energy and gut-instinct. I’ve learned to read people over the years.”

“Sounds very similar to my line of work, can I observe you sometime?”

“Yeah, any time.” You feel timid. But he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

He clears his throat, “Let me escort you back to your rooms.”

————————————————————————————————————————————

He walks you through the house, seemingly knowing the route you use even though the wing you’re in is opposite his. You watch him through your peripheral and catch him with his gaze on you more than once. Occasionally as you walk side by side, your hand grazes his but you notice he doesn’t tense up or show any signs of displeasure.

You arrive at your doorway, going inside to the sitting area. You weren’t used to having anyone other than Enola visiting you, so you tidy as you walk around. You hear a chuckle come from Sherlock, making you turn towards him.

You grin to yourself. “Please, have a seat if you’d like,” you gesture towards the chair to his right. He sits. You pace before sitting opposite him. You feel something looming in the air, like there are some unspoken truths, but Sherlock breaks your thoughts.

“Would it be too untoward if I tell you that you are intriguing, too?”

“I am?”

Sherlock nods, “You present yourself unlike any other young woman I have encountered. It’s nice to see you speak up and be unfiltered from time to time.”

“You pay attention to me?”

“Of course.”

“But how come it never felt like that?”

“I don’t follow...” his voice trails off as your eyes link.

You stand up, “It felt, in some ways, that my presence wasn’t allowed. No, not allowed, just you seemed above it all.” You scoff, “Somehow, I’ve always felt invaluable to you. And I always refused to let it bother me because I am a woman and I am better than that. To let a man’s opinion of myself get to me would be against everything I’ve learned in the past. But again, it bothers me. I guess I’m not as good as I thought.” You walk to your drink cart and pour yourself a glass of wine, gulping it down, “So to hear that you notice do notice me, well, that’s a lot.”

Sherlock stands and walks towards you, “I was unaware. You never made any gesture to feeling this way.”

“How would I when your actions...” you take a breath. “There’s been a miscommunication.”

“Yes, there has.” Sherlock pours himself a glass of wine, sipping it delicately.

You lock eyes again, “So what do we do now?”

“I’ve never been one to speak of...feelings. But I care for you, deeply. I believe we are going to need to speak up. And perhaps there won’t be any more miscommunications.”

You catch yourself grinning like an idiot, “I care about you, too.” You reach a hand up and caress the side of his face; he leans into your touch.

#Sherlock Holmes x reader #Enola Holmes #story #writing #please forgive formatting again #be gentle #enjoy #Sherlock Holmes reader insert #reader self insert

164 notes · View notes