#Theo just spitting truth over here

[nosnexus]

Holiday commission of our favorite gummy bear knight, Theo Gumbar for @andromxche

[m00nt34rs]

Winning Her Heart. A Theodore Nott x oc.

I don't even know how I let Pansy talk me into this party. I should be studying.

As I walk over to the drinks table, I decide to try the punch. I quickly spit it out; it has an overpowering taste of vodka. "fucking nasty," I mutter under my breath. Trying to get the taste out of my mouth.

Suddenly, Pansy grabs my arm, yanking me away from the drinks. She pulls me toward a circle of people sprawled on the couch.

"Let's play truth or dare!" Astoria slurs, her enthusiasm echos.

This should be interesting.

Raeven goes first, asking Theodore a question, then it's Astoria's turn. "Hmmm, Ivy, you've been quiet. Truth or dare?"

"Truth." The laughter that follows feels like a chorus of judgment, and I hear a few protests urging me to choose dare instead.

"Is it true you're the only virgin in our year?" The room goes silent, the question hanging in the air like a weight. I feel their eyes burning into me, each stare hits like a knife. A lump forms in my throat, and my vision blurs as I fight to hold back tears.

"Fuck this." I stand abruptly, the laughter and chatter fading into a distant hum as I flee upstairs, not caring whose room I enter.

I burst into the nearest dorm, inhaling a mix of stale cigarettes and expensive cologne. The realization hits me like a splash of water: I'm in Theodore Nott's room.

If there's one word to describe Theodore Nott, it's "whore." He sleeps around, leaving hearts broken. I can't help but feel a twinge of pity for Astoria.

Suddenly, the door swings open. "What are you doing in here?" Theo asks, his tone surprisingly soft.

"Oh, um, I just—" I stammer, my composure slipping away.

"Thanks for the explanation. Now get out," he says, irritation lacing his words.

"Wait," he interrupts, a smirk creeping onto his face. "About that question from earlier..."

"Oh, it was nothing," I manage to mutter, desperate to dismiss it.

"I could fix your little problem," he says, leaning against the doorframe, eyes glinting with mischief.

My heart races as I wonder what he means. My brain screams to leave, but my heart is mercifully intrigued.

Part 2 soon !!

[cantfightmoonlight]

@kadiraksoy​

You’re fine. You’ll be fine. She couldn’t tell you how many times she reiterated that stupid little phrase over and over again in her head. Five? Maybe six? Maybe ten times over? Maybe more? And it had worked. At first. She quietly sunk into the back of her office chair when Millie had handed over an essay worth of data and evidence she had collected that proved that Meena’s reality, as she knew it, had been false. She slowly flipped through page after page, managing to keep her composure and still her shaking fingers, as she calmly and rationally raised her gaze and told the town clerk that she’d take care of it. Meena was almost unsettlingly undisturbed as she called for a public announcement outside of Town Hall a mere hours after the last firework had exploded into ash in the sky ringing in that of the New Year. And she was told she gave quite the speech, calling forth search parties to bring one of their own back home. The spitting image of what a Mayor should be. Calm, cool and collected as she rested her hand on Millie’s shoulder and assured the woman that she had done good. They had finally managed to get a leg up on whoever had been terrorizing their town. Their office had managed to fulfill what they had originally promised the people of Lunar Cove when she had initially ran- that they would work to uncover the truth and find the answers their townspeople so desperately inquired. Only as Meena let her car door fall shut behind her as she drove painstakingly back home rather than cause a scene by zipping through the night using her super speed, she hardly felt as if any of this was a cause for celebration. 

If anything, she felt as if she may die all over again. Her breath quickened and her pipes seemed to close up with each gasp she took. It didn’t matter how many times she tried to reassure herself that she would be fine or remind herself that the panic would pass as it always seemed to. For she was only a few steps through her front door, when her lungs began to feel as if they were filling up with water. Fuck. She should have seen it coming. The rug always did seem to be pulled out from under her when she least expected it. She had been due for another life shattering discovery and, yet, here she was, gasping out for air as she locked the door behind her and stumbled up the stairs. Crawling into her bedroom, she pulled her feet into her chest and buried her face into her hands. Breath. Just breath. You’re alright. Only no amount of lying to herself could make this alright. 

Theo was alive and some asshole thought it would be funny to toy with her by sending god knows who’s heart to her in some box. Oh god. She had a panic attack that night too and, now the image of her hands stained in blood as they dropped the still beating heart to ground flooded into her mind. She had silently grieved the loss of the one person in her life who had managed to stick around, no matter how horrible they had been to each other and for each other. Theo had stayed until the end. Only it hadn’t been the end. She paraded herself around town acting as if she was better than fine. Acting as if she had been thriving. She had declared him dead and threw herself into her political campaign for Mayor. She had become the Clan Leader, taking over the position her own ‘husband’ coveted over her. She had lost everyone in her life and yet she had managed to turn things around. Didn’t she? Hadn’t she? So why the fuck was she here all over again? Curled up in a tiny little ball beside her bed, tears cascading down her cheeks as she tried to no avail to fight to take another breath. “Fuck,” She whimpered out, barely registering the sounds of Kadir calling out to from outside the front door.

[unladielike]

    Truth be told, Vivian was expecting him to merely spit out a retort or two and then part ways with her; after all, it wasn't as if what she said was anywhere near as terrible compared to his insults... however, it seemed she had underestimated how meanspirited Theo was, because sure enough, he proceeded to utter out words that subsequently made her blood boil. "Oh, now I'm being a bitch?" Vivian questions incredulously as she then directs a glare towards him.

    "Major projection much?! The way I see it, the only bitch here is you!" she goes on to snap, allowing both her brows to furrow. "Seriously, why the hell why I would even be nicer to you, when before that, you've always treated me cruelly and never bothered giving two shits about me? In fact, just because I had enough decency to not let you get robbed doesn't mean I'll forget your past wrongs or suddenly be a softer girl who would bend over backwards for you! Besides, kindness is supposed to be earned - not automatically given, and unlike you at least, I hadn't even cussed you out once before this, yet you claim I'm a bitch? I mean, I know you're used to other women easily spreading their legs for you without having to do much of anything except be hot, but get fucking real!" By this point, Vivian grew so irate, she was practically yelling.

    Honestly, who the hell did he think he was? What's more, why in the world was this asshole acting so entitled, when he didn't deserve her kindness to begin with? Rather than clench her fists, though, she would soon find herself stooping down the moment Theo turns away, and upon knowing what she'll do next would earn god's disapproval, Vivian grasps a small rock that conveniently lay near her feet. Then, while still fuming, she'll throw the rock at the back of his head. Whether or not it manages to hit it's mark and hurt him, though, was entirely up to fate's shoulders.

『🍬』 "Nothin' gets past you, huh?" Whether Theo was simply being sarcastic for the sake of it, or mixing in yet another jab at Vivian's physique, was impossible to determine. All that can be said is that there's a persistent air of insincerity to everything he's said thus far, from his gratitude to even his insults. Judging by the massive, shit-eating grin on his face, it seemed like he cared more about the chance to get a rise out of her than the fact that she just saved his bacon.

If he only had the patience for her, he could see that same grin of his widening like the Cheshire Cat when he sees Vivian's complexion darken, that flustered scowl that betrays her best attempts to hide the very worst of her mixed emotions. Yet, in the unbridled humiliation that came with having to be saved by her, he finds no room for mirth, even in her own anger with him.

In fact... all he finds is a reason to judge her in turn.

"Sure, I will. And I'm sure she'll believe me," he starts. "But you're a fuckin' textbook example of some shit she talks to me about. You think you got a right to act like you're hot shit just because you did somethin' good for me, and now all you're doin' is being a bitch. Maybe I would've properly thanked you if I were still in the right mindset, but nah, you just invalidated anything good that could've come outta this. So, fuck you." With that, he gives Burn's leash a gentle tug, allowing the duo to walk past her as he tosses her used takeout box in a nearby trash can.

"Go cry about it to your catboy body pillows back home, you fuckin' chuuni."

[romeosharpae]

“DESKTOP”

theodore nott x reader

content warnings: possessive behaviors, swearing, degradation (not really), rough sex, jealously, unprotected sex, toxic relationship, theodore nott x female reader, toxic! theodore nott.

"Get off of me!" Theodore Nott completely ignored your frustrated shouting. You hit his arm with all your might, planting your feet to the ground when that doesn't stop him.

The brunette continued ignoring your screaming, dragging you to wherever he desired despite your dismay. But he did shake his head, say something to himself underneath his breath, and tightened his grip around you to the point where it stung.

You noticed the two of you approach you, because you knew how upset Theodore currently was you, your eyes went wide. You knew how he handled you when you pissed him off, even if you weren't even technically in the wrong.

So when his hand leaves your arm to grab at the doors handle, you take your opportunity to run off. But before you could get far, Theodore just wrapped his lean arm around your waist. And to ensure that you don't run off again he lifted you off your feet.

You kicked your legs around and screamed, hoping to signal anyone walking by. But the few boys attention you got, takes one look at who's screaming and your with and shake their heads. You even hear one grumble, "Would've thought they'd get tired of each other's craziness by now."

That makes your mouth fall open.

Despite you being intrigued to see where Theodore was heading with this situation, you really did want him to put you down. So when he throws you onto the nearest desk, you wasted no time sitting up, blowing your hair out of your face pouting your lips. "Hey-- What's your probl--?!"

"What's my problem?" Theo barked, interrupting you, making your pout deepen. "Fix your fucking face, the only person here that should be pissed off here is me!"

You squinted your eyes at his demand, only fixing your pout when he stepped towards you with jaw clenched. "Um, I don't even know why you're talking about, Nott--"

Before you could even finish your sentence properly, his strong hand is on your face, fingernails digging into the skin of your cheek. Theodore hovers over you with that familiar hard glare that you hated so much forming on his beautifully pale face.

"Oh you don't know what I'm talking about now baby?" Just when you go to shake your head, you realize that Theodore's mocking you. But when does he not mock your distress?

His blue eyes scanned all over your face, realizing that you were caught up in your thoughts and not paying attention, he tapped your check with the palm of his hand. Not hard enough to be considered a slap, but hard enough to get that he wanted your undivided attention right now. "Do not fucking lie to me, Y/N." Theo warned, taking a finger that's from his free hand and pointing it in your face.

Usually you'd admired the silver crest ring, though you knew now is not the time. Shaking your head with his hand, he spits, "Don't ever fucking lie to me, Y/N."

You just nodded.

It took everything inside you not to give Theodore the satisfaction of seeing you cry right now because the truth was you were lying to him. You knew exactly what your toxic lover was upset with you about.

After Theodore had assured you for the hundredth time that he would never belong to him – Yet you belonged to him – you were completely heart broken. So to get underneath his skin, the one thing you were good at doing, you went to the same party that he demanded that you didn't go too weeks ago.

Wearing the same skimpy dress Theodore promised you he'd snatch off you and rip to pieces if he'd caught you in it again. And made out with his acquaintance, Draco Malfoy, just to piss him off like he'd done you.

You throw your hands up in defense. You opened your mouth but the way he's looking at you has you hesitant.

"You liked the way he kissed you?" Theo's fingers dig deeper into his skin, and you can see the anger inside of him growing larger at every second. "Do you want to fuck him, huh?" You most certainly did not want to.

"Ugh. Theodore, don't you think I would've done that already if I want--"

“Keep talking, Y/N, and I won't hesitate walking back in that party and.." He growls, not finding your sarcasm funny. "Look at what you're wearing, you look like a slut."

That's how he likes you, no?

You watched as Theodore laughed lowly to himself, running his free hand through his curly hair. "Why the fuck did you even come? Just to piss me off?" He raised a thick brow, and when you don't respond to him he laughed directly in your face.

Embarrassment filled you quickly, and you turned to look away. "No, Y/N. Be loud and proud." He mocked you. "So that's what you want huh? To piss me off so I'll fuck you dumb, again? Fine, If that's what you want."

Within a short millisecond, Theodore's hand flys to the back of your neck, forcing you up. You gasped as he manhandling you until you’re leaned against the cold desk with your bottom brushing against his torso, fully aware of his thick bulge poking at your flesh.

You yelped as he pushed your face down, uncomfortably smushing your cheek against the hard wood of the desk. "T-heo stop.."

Theodore's next moves were hesitant, obviously waiting for you to tell him again "Stop what?" He asked you, half-mocking-half genuinely concerned. But you just shake your head in response, unaware of what exactly you meant by the word because you knew that you actually wanted him right now.

Theodore laughed dryly, grabbing you by the fat of your thighs and pulling you back to him. Your eyes screw shut, breath hitching when began to gently trail  his finger up and down your clit that was covered by lacy black underwear, and Theodore groaned at the sight. "So damn wet. Practically begging me to fuck the tight little thing.."

You could tell that he was talking more to himself than anything so you don't respond. Only shrieking when he suddenly lands a hard slap right onto your pussy.

"What did I tell you about this dress, hm?" Theodore's hand begins to trail up your back, gently, yet, you knew there was nothing gentle behind Theo's motives. "What did I tell I was going to do if I saw you wearing it for anyone other than me?"

"R--Rip it."

He hummed.

The moment he threw the threat your way, you'd image about twenty different scenarios of Theodore ripping the fabric from your skin. So to say you were soaking your underwear as he flipped you over and tore the fabric straight down the middle with his veiny hands was a complete understatement.

You moaned loudly at this, unable to hide exactly how much you liked that. Theodore suddenly snapped, his hands fly to unbuckle his trousers and push them down, eyes still glued onto yours.

Another low moan escaped you when he suddenly manhandled you back into your previous position. You screw your eyes shut, trying to prepare yourself for the painful, yet pleasurable feeling that's about to happen. Theodore grabbed onto your arms, holding them at the small of your back.

Your mouth flew open just when Theodore thrusts into you and groaned loudly. He was deep inside of you, leaving your hole stretched out, and your cervix aching when he pulled out and slams back into you.

From the way he manically drilled himself inside of you, you could tell Theo didn't think you deserve anytime to adjust to his size. You let out a strangled moan as Theo continued too fuck you into the desk, rolling his hips in a quick and hard pace.

"You like that?" Theo teased, groaning. Because you could not form a literal answer, you nod your head frantically and moan in. How could you not enjoy it? Everything that Theodore Nott did to you enjoy,

You sometimes even found yourself secretly enjoying the not so sane shit That he put you through every now and then. You convinced yourself that he did it because you loved you, but it wasn't true at all.

He grabbed onto your hip with his feet hand, forcing you to fuck him back and increasing the pleasure in your body by a hundred. "Fuck me back, harder." Theo demanded, not getting the pleasure he wanted from forcing you to do it himself clearly.

You hear him groan when you push your hips back onto him, doing just like he commanded. A high whimper escaped your mouth as his thrust becomes harder, resulting in wood he's knocking you into beginning to crack.

Suddenly, you feel his chest on your back and his cooled breath was fanning against your ear. "Are you listening to me?" He questions lowly. You nod your head, moaning loudly as his pace slowed but his strokes deepen.

“Fucking good." He grabbed onto your shoulder, pulling you up and continuing to stroke while you standing up. Looking down at the wooden desk, you’re astonished at the dent that’s formed in it. “Because If I ever catch you dancing let alone looking at another man I’ll show him much of a whore for me his little admiration is.” Theo growled into your ear, his hand grabbing onto the desk when you clenched around his dick. “Stop it,” He hissed into your neck, your body hitting the desk with every stroke he gave you

His hand gives your neck a squeeze before forcing your head to lie against his shoulder.

“You are my woman,” Theodore continued, causing you to moan. “Mark my words, when I say fucking always, Y/N. You’re going to bare my fucking children, and lay by my damn side every night. And don’t even bother thinking other wise”

“Because I’ll kill everyone who makes you think that way.”

Part two>>>

[rockingrobin69]

Intervention as a love language

For the most wonderful @textrovert-01, who prompted me ages ago: exactly 1k of pushy friends and clumsy partners. CW for alcohol. 

“So, is this finally the day?”

The tone snapped Draco’s attention back to his own table. “Pardon?”

Blaise leaned back, smirking with evident satisfaction. “Is this the day you admit you have a crush on Potter?”

Spluttering would not be a dignified reaction; Draco didn’t spit his drink, he just, er, lost its whereabouts for a moment. “You’re barking.”

“Really.” Pansy’s arms were crossed over her chest. “So you don’t have a crush on Potter.”

“I—wha—of course I don’t. That’d be mad. He’s my partner.”

“Right, your partner, nothing else.” When did Greg even learn to use sarcasm?

“Well, I mean, of course there’s—we are, er, friends. Colleagues? Friends.” Potter had said so himself, in fact; Who would’ve thought? There are some benefits to being your friend after all, Malfoy. So. That was that.

“Friends don’t look at each other the way you two do,” Pansy breathed down her apple mojito.

“Oh, those long, tender looks? No, absolutely.” Draco decided he hated Blaise’s sly eyebrows far more than his smirk.

“Nor do they make every excuse to touch each other,” Pansy continued, apparently not bothered by the way Draco’s usually fair complexion was turning an unsavoury red.

“Do you remember Weasley’s New Year’s party?” Blaise grinned, the traitor. “Oh no, my shirt got mysteriously and utterly wet, I simply had to take it off—”

Draco was the only one not laughing. “That’s not how it happened.” He just spilled some drink over his button up, and when he went to wash it in the sink, it had… oh, drat. These fiends didn’t care about the truth.

“And when Draco pretended he didn’t know who sent him the soup when he was ill last winter?”

“Of course I knew, that wasn’t—"

“Potter and Draco are like two magnets,” Greg explained to the chuckling group with scientific severity. “It’s not their fault, how they’re constantly drawn to each other.”

“We are not—”

“What are we talking about?” Theo joined the table with a fresh round, and Pansy was the fastest.

“Draco’s desperate and obsessive crush on Potter.” Not quite the words he would have used. Also, Pansy was a bitch.

“I don’t have a crush on Potter!”

She actually looked sad as she petted his arm. “Oh, darling.”

“Obviously you do,” Theo frowned, dispensing everyone’s preferred drink. “Little in this life is clearer. If Potter said jump, you’ll ask how high.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Greg said, and Draco never had a better friend than him. “He wouldn’t need to ask. He’d just jump as high as he can.” 

Some friend he was.

“Again, and again,” Theo sighed.

“Until Potter says stop,” Blaise supplied with a wink.

“I hate you all,” Draco rolled his eyes to the smoky ceiling, and he meant it from the bottom of his chardonnay. “A man can’t even enjoy his night without—”

“These guys giving you grief?” came a low voice from behind him, and Draco’s heart may have stopped for a moment, for he felt positively dizzy. “You know he can arrest you, right? Probably shouldn’t annoy him, or else.”

“Yes, we wouldn’t want Draco to call his big, scary partner over,” Pansy batted her eyes. “But since he’s already here, why won’t you join us for a drink, Potter?”

“Er, actually, I wanted… can I have a word, Draco?”

What a terrific moment to snort; there was wine coming out of his nose. “Erm.”

“He’d love to,” Blaise hurried to promise, and Greg did no less than bodily shove him off his stool. “Off you go, Draco. We’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

“I don’t—” but his hand was in Potter’s, for whatever baffling reason, and they were veering away from the tables and out of the pub, and Draco forgot how to breathe. His chest was chock-full with—something strange and yet familiar, a sort of ache, something he never allowed himself to explore properly. Then they were outside, standing in the freezing cold. It was so quiet all of a sudden, without the music and those pesky devils trying to drill into his brains.

“So,” Potter said, green eyes bright in the street light. “I, uh, heard what your friends were saying. About you. Us.”

Humiliation was red, Draco realised, horrified. Had to be; his cheeks were going for record-breaking burgundy. “I… it’s not…” shit. “They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“They don’t?” Draco couldn’t tell what the look on Potter’s face meant, he was too busy battling with his own. “That’s a shame.”

“A—shame?”

“My friends were pestering me all night as well. Saying it’s getting ridiculous. That I should do something about it already, or at least stop talking about you all the bloody time.”

Draco tried to swallow, but it came out wrong, with a wheezing sound. “You talk about me?”

“Constantly, according to them.”

Oh. “Because we’re friends,” Draco said, perhaps a reminder. “You said we were friends, right?”

Potter’s sigh was earth-shattering, or perhaps it was the fact he came close, close enough that his words were warm against Draco’s face. “I didn’t think—couldn’t bring myself to hope you’d want more.”

“But that’s ridiculous.” Draco looked down at his oddly-blurry oxfords. “It couldn’t be more obvious that I do. Everyone noticed. Everyone.”

“I’ve been told I’m not the brightest,” Potter laughed, and something broke across his face, free and happy like relief. “This pointy git partner of mine told me that. Repeatedly.”

“He sounds handsome,” Draco muttered.

“The handsomest,” Potter nodded, and his eyes were even brighter up close.

The kiss was a breathless affair, desperate and tight and baffling. Draco forgot to come up with something sharp or witty. It was Potter who had to say something, after they finally broke apart:

“Who would’ve thought? Kissing you has even more benefits than being your friend.”

“Shut up and kiss me some more, idiot.”

Blaise was quite right, in the end; it really turned out to be the day.

[earlgreydream]

slytherin parties.

| draco malfoy x reader | smut |

anon requested.

we party like slytherins here ✨ I’m really putting myself out here with this one

a/n: my blog is a judgement free zone. maid costumes aren’t my thing, but i’m doing this because i love my angel babies. also, i promise this will be draco x reader, just give it a bit

this is super fucking smutty

“You lost the bet, mate. Dress up, princess,” Theo sneered at his best friend.

The group of you were piled in Draco’s private prefect room, playing drinking games. Theo had won against Draco in a round of the game, and now Draco was paying the penalty of it, brutal humiliation.

Theo waved his wand, and Draco was suddenly clad in a slutty maid outfit. Your eyes darkened a bit, finding something inherently arousing about just seeing Draco humiliated. You shifted in your seat, and Pansy smirked at you, reading your mind.

“Y’alright Y/N? You look a little... horny?” Blaise snickered, and Draco shot him a murderous look.

“Fuck off, you don’t talk to her that way,” Draco snapped possessively.

“Be nice, Draco,” you warned, a threat dripping from your tone.

The energy in the room shifted, and Draco’s grey eyes widened slightly.

“You can sit there and quit your whining. You lost, so you get punished.”

Draco swallowed at your words and your tone, and Theo’s face filled with gleeful amusement. This was playing out much more entertaining than he had originally perceived. Everyone was surprised, including Draco, to see you acting dominant like this with him. Although Draco was embarrassed, he was getting aroused from the way you spoke to him, bold enough to do it in front of your friends.

“Truth or dare, Y/N?” Blaise asked you.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to make out with Pansy.”

There was a moment of silence that fell over the group, and you turned to your best friend. You moved to her, a devilish smirk on her face.

“Come here, baby,” she said sweetly, and you straddled her lap, your arms going around her neck. The quiet from all the boys was deafening, and Draco’s eyes were wide with anticipation.

You leaned in, and Pansy closed the gap, kissing you. Her lips were full and soft, and she kissed you deeply. You could feel the boys’ gazes boring into you, and the two of you decided to put on a little show for them.

You parted your lips, and Pansy slipped her tongue into your mouth. The two of you were moaning and frenching, her delicate hands gripping your ass and sliding under your skirt.

“Holy fuck,” Theo murmured, watching the two of you make out pornographically in front of them.

Draco was overwhelmed, so hard it was hurting. The sight of Pansy making you moan like that was making his head spin, and he needed to relieve the pressure so bad.

“Hand me a shot, Theo,” Pansy commanded, breaking your kiss.

The stunned brunet did as he was told, and she slid her hands up the front of your body, palming your chest before pushing you to lay on your back on the floor in front of her.

All of you were already slightly buzzed, the sensuality of the events unfolding only adding to it. You looked up at Pansy, painfully aware of your throbbing cunt. She was aware too, and likely everyone in the room. 

The boys couldn’t tear their eyes away from the two of you, and you were even more aroused by the knowledge of them watching. 

“You’re going to be my good girl, aren’t you?” Pansy asked, tracing her fingertips up your thighs, dipping under your skirt.

“Yes, Pansy. I’m your good girl,” you breathed, playing along. She smiled at that, the shot still in her other hand.

The two of you had already fulfilled your dare, and now it was just sick, erotic pleasure. Her knee was between your thighs as she leaned over you, her eyes slowly dragging over your body shamelessly. 

“Open your mouth, sweet girl,” Pansy instructed provocatively, and your lips parted in obedience. The boys watched, the anticipation nearly eating them alive. Blaise and Theo had nearly forgotten Draco in his slutty outfit, ashamed and aroused to their left.

Pansy tipped her head back as she took the shot, though she didn’t swallow. She bent over you, spitting the shot into your open mouth. “Swallow.”

The alcohol burned your throat going down, and your head was spinning from the taste of firewhiskey, and the taste of her. You were soaked, the heat between your legs spreading and making you desperate. 

“Go ahead and touch yourselves,” Pansy offered the boys permission to relieve them, and you looked over at them, and they were past the point of shyness. 

“Not you. You keep your hands off and just fucking watch,” you snapped at Draco, a strangled whimper of desperation leaving the blonde. 

Blaise and Theo stroked their cocks, their breathing becoming louder as they watched Pansy feel you up, playing with your tits and making you squirm beneath her. She pulled off her short dress, standing up off of you and tossing her thong off with it. 

“I’ll play with them. You deal with your fucking brat,” Pansy told you, going to sit by Blaise and Theo, nodding at Draco. You tossed aside your own dress, leaving you in a deep green set that made Draco audibly moan at the sight. You glanced at Pansy for encouragement, and she nodded, parting her thighs so that Theo could play with her dripping pussy. 

“Look at you, watching us get off while you humiliate yourself, dressed up like a little bitch,” you mocked Draco, gaining confidence from being watched. Draco’s stunned gaze was wide, taking in your words and the sight of your mostly-nude body. You muttered a spell, and the fabric covering him disappeared, leaving him bare in front of you.

“Hand me your tie. Now!” You ordered, and he obeyed.

You bound his wrists together so he couldn’t touch himself, or you, even if he wanted to. The contrast of you and Pansy being so sweet, to degrading your boyfriend was jarring, and Draco didn’t object. He was hard and bright red with need, and you teased him by licking his tip, a broken cry tumbling from his lips as you lapped up the pre-cum. 

When you sat back up, Draco was nearly crying from need, unable to bear being teased and toyed with. 

“Look at you, all pathetic and crying because I won’t let you come,” you frowned. You grabbed his jaw and made him look at his friends across from you, and you forced him to watch Theo come all over Pansy’s tits as she pulled her mouth off of him. Blaise was buried in her cunt from behind, both of them getting off with moans of ecstasy.

“That’s only the first time that they get to orgasm. Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll let you come too,” You whispered in his ear, licking a stripe up his neck and making him shudder. 

“If you want to come, you have to work for it,” Pansy chimed in, helping you lead. 

“Please,” Draco pleaded, kneeling before you, pulling weakly at the bounds. 

You laid him down in front of your friends, who were still going at it. Pansy was on Blaise’s lap, bouncing on him while Theo’s lips smeared against hers before they turned to watch you with Draco. 

“Help her,” Pansy instructed, and Theo moved to where you stood, hooking his fingers in your panties, dragging them down your legs to reveal your soaked pussy. You shivered slightly as the cold air hit you, and Theo smirked. He unclasped your bra, and Draco watched as Theo tugged at your nipples, making them harden under his touch. You moaned softly, leaning back against the much taller boy, keeping your eyes trained on Draco as Theo touched you. You turned and kissed him roughly before pushing him back to Pansy, who praised him sweetly, telling him what a good job he did with you. 

You climbed over Draco, your knees on either side of his head as you hovered above him. You lowered down, sitting on his face. Draco was desperate, and he began eating you out. His tongue slipped between your folds, teasing your clit and licking the sensitive nerves. You rocked your hips lightly against his face as his tongue pushed past your tight ring of muscle, your arousal dripping down his face. 

The other three watched every movement, taking in every pleasured moan that you released. You tangled your fingers into Draco’s blonde locks, pulling his hair fiercely. His moan sent vibrations through your slick heat, and you screamed as his nose brushed your clit, fucking you with his tongue. 

“Desperate slut, eating my pussy in front of your friends like a dirty slut,” you sneered, and rocking your hips down, forcing him deeper inside of you. 

Your orgasm hit you like a train, pleasure washing over your body in violent waves. Your screams echoed off of the dark walls, mixing with Blaise, Theo, and Pansy’s moans. Draco lapped up your come like a starved man, helping you ride out your orgasm as long as possible. 

Your thighs were trembling as you climbed off of him, and Draco’s chest heaved, his eyes blown out with lust. His cock was red and angry, begging for attention. You were filled with a sweet, sick sense of dominance from making Draco a ruined mess. It spread a heat through your body, and Pansy grinned, looking pleased with you. 

“Good job, darling,” she hummed, kissing your shoulder, her naked body pressed against your own. 

“Please let me come,” Draco begged, and you smirked.

“Should I? Or should we play with our toy a little more?” You asked, snapping your fingers to free the ties on Draco’s wrists.

“I want to have a little fun with him.” Theo said, and you nodded.

“Be my guest.”

“I want to know what you taste like.” 

He pulled Draco to sit up, and he was obedient and pliant with Theo, wanting to be good so he could get off like the rest of you. Being dominated was incredibly hot, and Draco was basking in it, not objecting in the least bit. A sick part of him enjoyed the humiliation and being used for your pleasure, all on display for his friends.

Theo kissed Draco, pulling the boy close. Draco moaned into his mouth, Theo swallowing the noises as he tasted you on Draco’s tongue. His large hand wrapped around Draco’s throat, squeezing lightly, the sight turning you all on. It was filthy, erotic, and primal, sending you into a deeper state of arousal. 

You leaned back against Pansy’s chest, and her and Blaise’s long fingers dipped into your hole, stretching you out so you could finally give Draco what he wanted. You were moaning and writhing on Pansy’s chest as Blaise scissored his fingers, prepping you. Pansy was playing with your nipples, tweaking and pinching them with her sharp black nails, whispering praises and affirmations into your ear as you watched Draco and Theo make out, Draco stroking the brunet’s cock. 

When Theo finally let you at him, Draco was delirious with need. 

“I know, I’m going to get you off now,” you hushed him. Pansy knelt behind him, placing his head in her lap. Blaise took Draco’s place with Theo, and you got back on top of your boyfriend. 

You slowly sank down onto his cock, taking him inside of you. Draco screamed from all the pent-up sexual frustration, and Pansy scratched her nails lightly over his pale chest, making him twitch and snap his hips up into you. 

You rolled your hips as you bounced up and down, riding him and finally getting him off. You leaned forward, connecting your lips with Pansy’s again, moaning as you tasted the other boys’ come on her tongue. Draco thrusted upward roughly, meeting you as you dropped down onto him, the force blowing your mind. It didn’t last long with how much you had been dragging out the teasing. 

Draco came inside of you with a guttural scream, filling you up and making your eyes roll back, Pansy’s kiss muffling the deep groan from your chest. You were weak from the violent, aggressive, experimental sex the five of you had indulged in, your minds all fuzzy with pleasure. You took a few minutes to catch your breath, a hazy quiet falling over the five of you.

You eventually made your way to the deep tub in the floor, cleaning up in the large prefect bath together. You kissed Draco sweetly, and he kissed you back, letting you know that he wasn’t mad about the night’s events. 

“Did I complete your dare, Theo?” you asked, and Pansy leaned her head on your shoulder above the water, giggling. 

“I don’t know. Maybe we should try again sometime,” he answered, the five of you laughing. 

[jadegrey711]

It’s your Voodoo Working

Caliban x Fem!Reader

A/N: Hello my loves. I’m slowly getting through my requests and one of them requested I do another Caliban oneshot. Which i was more than happy to do since there is so little of him. I tried making it passionate but then a song gave me this other idea for him and i just love writing him as a mischievous little shit. 

Also apparently making something passionate means long as fuck. Also by the end of this I just wasn’t feeling the smut so i kind of cut it out. I’m not really feeling my writing very much these days but I hope you guys still enjoy this. 

Word Count: 2787

*NOT MY GIF*

Anon: Can you pls do another Caliban smut but maybe this time it’s like passionate as shit? Thank you, love your writing!!

Song Inspiration:

It’s your voodoo working - Charles Sheffield 

Feel Me - Mecca Kalani 

If you like my stories you can check out my sideblog @jadegreywriting​​ to see all of them and my masterlist without filtering through my main blog.

I own all rights to this story and do not give permission for my stories to be published, translated or reposted anywhere else. The only places I have published my stories is here on Tumblr and on my AO3 account (LadyAuthor711) 

This story is for 18+ ONLY. It contains sexual themes that are not suited for younger audiences so if you’re under 18 my blog and this story is not for you. Please make sure to read at your own discretion and remember that you are solely responsible for your content intake. 

The very first time you laid your eyes on him, you had to admit he was breathtaking. You stood there in awe as he appeared before you and the rest of the Fright Club in a ball of whirling fire. Once he fully materialized in front of all of you, he immediately turned to Sabrina.

“Sabrina.” He regarded her with an easy smile.

“Caliban.” She regarded him in turn, her voice laced with ice. But his smile never wavered.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of you summoning me here, Sabrina?”

“My friends and I need your help, Caliban; in defeating a most foul eldritch beast.” Sabrina said, before she gestured towards us and you watched as Caliban regarded each of you. Starting with Roz, Harvey, Theo and then he turned his attention towards you; his mossy green eyes met yours and that lazy smile returned to his handsome face.

“Enchanted.” He purred as he drank you in and let the room sit in silence for a beat before he continued, looking away from you and back to Sabrina.

“You know my help doesn’t come free Sabrina.”

Sabrina outwardly groaned. “Name your price.” She said with a wave of her hand as if that’ll make him spit out his demands faster so she can move on with her life.

“I don’t require much. All I require is your name, fair maiden.” He purred, taking your hand in his before he placed a kiss upon your knuckles.

“Oh damn.” You heard Roz whisper beside you.

Sabrina however, looked extremely irritated. “Come on Caliban you expect me to believe that all you want in exchange for your help is my friend’s name? You must want something else. You can’t have Y/-” Just as Sabrina was about to say your name Caliban cut her off.

“I want her name and I want it from her own lips.” he said an edge of danger in his voice, before he looked back to you, his hand still holding yours in his grasp.

You felt your heart flutter in your chest like a bird in a cage and wet your lips with your tongue before you spoke. “Y/N. My name is Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He whispered your name almost reverently, letting your name roll across his tongue. “It suits you.” He smiled, and that smile made you feel like you had just made the biggest mistake telling him your name.

That first encounter was over a month ago and in that time Caliban was true to his word to his word. He had helped in any capacity he could to aid you in defeating this horror you all were facing. However, in that same amount of time Sabrina had figured out his true intentions for being so helpful. Word on the hellish grapevine was that hell had been lonely for the new king, since he and Sabrina had locked up dear old dad and he wanted a queen for himself, and was setting his eyes upon you.

Sabrina warned you, to stay away that he was the definition of a bastard and to not put it past him that he would not simply take his mortal bride like Hades did to Persephone. You tried to shake off the chill as you imagined Caliban rising from the cracked earth, his strong hands gripping you closely to his body as he dragged you to his kingdom of nightmares.

Also within that month you tried avoiding him like the plague, but it seemed no use; Caliban was everywhere you turned, like gum stuck on your shoe. He would meet you outside of your lecture halls, stay close to you at the academy’s library brushing his hands against yours, sometimes leaning in to whisper something close to your ear.

It was starting to become so difficult to keep your blood from not warming at the smallest of his touches, or even just the feeling of his presence as he walked into a room. You felt yourself going mad at each of those little touches and how when he would walk up behind you, leaning over your shoulder to see what your were doing; you found the temptation to just push your body back into his achingly warm one harder to resist. It was like he was working some kind of voodoo on your body, making it so you craved him, wanted him with every fiber of your being; until he didn’t need to wrap his arms around you and steal you away to his kingdom. No. You were going to throw yourself into his arms at the very mention of taking you away.

*****

Today he was working his voodoo again, he came up behind you and placed his hands on your hips. You tried not to moan out right at the feeling of his large warm hands on your waist, making you immediately conjure up images of what he could do with those hands.

“How are you today, lovely Y/N?” He whispered in your ear.

You steeled yourself before your answered him. “I’ll be better when you get your hands off of me.” you tried to say it with menace but there was no bite in your voice.

“Why would I want to do that?” he nuzzled his nose in your hair just behind your ear before he whispered. “I think my hands belong here and I think your hands belong on me. Don’t you agree?”

“No.” you said shakily. You looked around the academy’s library but no one was here, not even Sabrina. No one was here to save you from the eclipsing fog filling your head that was Caliban.

“Come on Y/N.” he said nuzzling your hair again, making goosebumps run down your arms and your back erupt with a spine tingling shiver. “Why do you keep denying what we have here? I’ve seen the carnal lust in your eyes from the very moment that we met, just as you’ve seen it in mine. So, why fight it?”

You steeled yourself as your turned in Caliban’s arms, facing him now; those moss green eyes focused acutely on your body. Taking in the way your chest heaved up and down with each deep steadying breath you took, your breasts barely brushing against his chest with every breath. He took in the sound of your heartbeat rapidly increasing as he kept staring at you, observing you, devouring the image of you.

“I know what you want from me. And it’s not just carnal, as you love to say.” You said, trying not to notice the heat radiating from his body, or the way your nipples were aching peaks as you gazed back into those jade eyes.

Caliban licked his lips, stepping just a hair closer to you and closing the small space between your bodies. “And what is it that I truly want from you Y/N?” he asked as he reached up and tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“Sabrina told me about you and your desire for some meek mortal bride. Someone to use and frighten for eons.” You said, trying to calm your increasing heartbeat.

“Do I frighten you Y/N?” he asked, his eyebrow quirked up in question.

“No.” You said, feeling the truth of it ring out in your voice.

“I’m glad to hear that.” He said before pausing for a breath, leaning down to place a small kiss against your cheek, and felt that small kiss shoot through your entire body like a lightning strike. “Sabrina has heard right, I am looking for a queen. But, you’re wrong about wanting a meek woman by my side, someone like that wouldn’t last five seconds. No.” he said as he placed another kiss but this time on the other cheek.

You should push him away from you, wipe his gentle kisses off with disgust but you couldn’t fight the increasing warmth that seemed to radiate deeper into your bones and soul with each small kiss he gave you.

“I wanted someone strong and fiery. Someone who would defy me at every turn.” He placed a kiss against your neck on your rapid pulse, making you gasp. “This makes me a bit of a masochist I know this. But, I wanted a woman, not a girl and when I first saw you Y/N, I knew instantly that you were that woman and from that moment on I’ve desperately wanted to see a crown placed on your head.” He finished, placing a kiss on the other side of your neck.

“Caliban.” You whispered, biting your bottom lip hard.

“You don’t have to love me Y/N, not now that’ll come in time” Caliban said breathily as his soft kisses on your neck became more desperate, and started to feel your resolve weaken as Caliban’s spell on your was finally working it’s magic on you. “Just let me love you right now.” Caliban said his voice husky. “Please Y/N.” That’s when you realized he was asking your permission. His hands were starting to roam over your body, igniting your even hotter as they lifted up your shirt slightly in their exploration, and skin touched skin.

But with one word from you, he’d stop; you knew that. But did you actually want him to stop? His large hands grabbed your ass by the handfuls and you knew that was most definitely not the case.

You reached up with trembling hands and dug your fingers into those luscious blonde locks, hearing Caliban moan as you gently pulled on them. His eyes never left yours as you nodded slowly to him, telling him exactly what you wanted; that you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

Caliban’s lips crashed against yours, and you felt his heat fully envelope you as you opened your mouth to his invading tongue, letting yours meet his in a dance of dominance. With your hands still deep in his blonde locks, you pulled him closer to you, wanting to feel every part of his body against yours.

Caliban’s hands roamed back down your back and ass until they reached the back of your thighs and you took that as a signal to jump and wrap your legs around his waist. He smiled against your lips and starting walking away from the table you were originally by and closer towards the massive fireplace in the library. Without breaking the kiss Caliban brought the both of you in front of the fireplace and sat down on the rug in front of it, having you straddle his lap.

Caliban’s lips pulled away from yours only so they could attach themselves to your neck, placing soft kisses there before those soft kisses turned to harsh sucks. You craned your neck to the side to give him more access as you delved your fingers into his luscious locks. You felt Caliban’s hands roam down your back and gently squeezed your ass, making you smile before you felt his fingers grab the edges of your shirt and as they roamed back up your back he was bringing up your shirt. You helped him out by bringing up your arms and then your shirt was on the floor next to you.

You watched as Caliban took in the sight of your exposed body with such an intensity in his eyes that it made you blush all over. You watched with equal intensity as Caliban lowered his head to your breasts and kissed the tops of them, his hands reaching behind you once again to undo the clasp of your bra with ease. He looked mesmerizing as he watched it slip from your shoulders and you placed it with your shirt.  

Caliban started to lower his head again but you stopped him. “Wait.” You said biting your lip. “I want to see you.” You said as you grabbed the edge of his shirt and lifted it off of him and watched as his shirt joined yours in the ever growing pile of clothes next to you.

You reach your hands out hesitantly to touch him, and heard a low groan come from between his plush lips as your hands rested at the top of his chest. You ran your hands down him feeling every muscle tighten as you explored his grooves and scars.

“You’re beautiful.” You whispered. “If you truly were made from clay as Sabrina says, I think you were perfectly sculpted.”

“Oh, Y/N. I think you’ll be the death of me.” he groaned and suddenly you felt the sensation of falling and your head met with the soft rug underneath you. You watched as Caliban hovered over you, situating himself between your legs and drinking you in.

Caliban let out a small sigh. “I may be beautiful yes this is true.” He said, a small smirk growing on his face and you smiled at his arrogance, fighting the urge to give his arm a smack. “But my beauty is nothing compared to you and especially to you in this moment laid out before me like a goddess. I pale in comparison.” He said and lowered his head back to you neck and you instinctively moved it to the side to giving him more access to you. You watched in wonder as Caliban’s kisses started moving lower, kissing the tops of your collarbones, his tongue tracing down your sternum and to the valley of your breasts, his hair all the while tickling you as he moved lower.

You let out a gasp as you felt Caliban’s tongue trace circles around your harden nipple before bringing it into his mouth and sucking. The sensation of his mouth around you and his tongue flicking at your nipple made your back arch into his mouth, desperately wanting more.

Suddenly, you felt Caliban’s hands on the tops of your jeans and began unbuttoning them as he began lavishing your other breast with the same devotion.

His hands were agile and he finished undoing the buttons of your jeans and began pulling them down; at the same time his lips were beginning to move further down your body.

You felt the heat in your body spike as you realized what Caliban was planning to do to you next. “Caliban.” You sounded breathy, as his name came out almost as a plea. You wanted him to end his slow methodical torture and just wanted to take you, make you his. But as Caliban pulled away from you and brought your legs up to start pulling off your jeans, you realized he had other plans for you.

He gently pulled away your jeans and panties all at once, being so gentle as he took your feet out of each one of the pant legs, before tossing your panties and jeans both to the side; leaving you completely bare under him. He kept your legs up and by his face and never broke eye contact with you as he took one leg and began kissing you, starting from your ankle and working down till he got to your inner thigh.

“Caliban, please.” You heard yourself beg. But beg for what? Him to stop or for him to never stop?

“What do you want princess?” he asked his voice a low growl, as he started kissing your other leg, working down it slowly placing kisses on your ankles, behind your knees, working to your inner thighs again.

“I feel like you’re torturing me. You’ve been torturing me this whole month and now now you’re killing me.”

You watched as he lowered himself to settle in between your thighs, feeling breathless and needy.

He smiled at you his eyes locking onto yours as you felt those soft lips kiss you intimately. “There’ll be no more torture Y/N. Once you’ve given yourself fully over to me you will only know bliss.” He murmured against your inner thighs, kissing down both of them before he continued licking at you; his tongue flicked your clit and you felt your back lift from the ground.

“Caliban.” You pleaded, digging your fingers in his hair, almost as if you wanted to pull him away or push him closer to you. “Caliban, I need you, I want you, I want to give in to you.”

With that Caliban stopped and pulled away from your quaking center, making you whimper from the loss of contact. His eyes seemed to glow with the intensity they held in them. “Do you mean it? Because if you do, there’s no going back. You’re mine and I am yours.”

“I mean it.” You say with a sincerity that surprised you and felt a smile bloom across your face as Caliban wrapped you up in him and sealed your fate.

[arts-and-drafts]

Legacy (Part 2)

(Continuation of my first FWT fankid AU fic, in which Dream faces his consequences and Fundy goes after his reckless son before it's too late to save him. Enjoy!)

(Tagging @midnightmagi @rose-icosahedron @amazonprimebox @colorfulsiren @strawberrylemonz)

-

Dream shifted, the first real movement Theo had seen from him. "...I don't have a son." He spoke, his tone low with an unreadable emotion. Theo flattened his ears.

"Actually, you fucking do." Theo snarled, his anger overriding his caution. "But you wouldn't know, since Dad was too afraid of you to say anything."

Dream went still, his mask tilting up to seemingly search Theo's face. "'Dad'...do you--Fundy?" Dream asked, a shred of desperation present in his question.

"Yeah." Theo spat. "Fundy is my dad. He ran away because you cheated on him, and you were gonna start another fucking war."

Dream flinched, only barely, but Theo caught it with a fierce satisfaction. He found the nerve.

"I thought--I thought Fundy was dead--" Dream muttered. "And you...you're mine?"

Dream raised his hand towards Theo, but snatched it back when Theo raised the trident to his throat. "I'm not fucking yours. I'm here to hurt you the way you hurt my dad. Don't get fucking chummy."

Dream paused, again. Theo wished he could rip that mask off to see what he was really thinking.

"What's your name?" Dream asked, slowly and carefully. Theo's lip curled.

"You don't deserve to know."

Dream gently pushed the trident aside, putting his hands up as Theo jerked it right back to his vulnerable chest. "Kid--" Dream started, but Theo cut him off.

"Do you have any fucking idea what you did?! He loved you, and you just threw him into the dirt!! I'm ashamed to share your fucking blood." Theo exploded, spitting all the venom he could muster.

"Listen--" Dream tried to interrupt, his body language tensing the more Theo ripped into him. Theo silenced him by jabbing the trident points against his godly father's chest. "No! YOU fucking listen!!" Theo snapped.

Dream's energy suddenly violently shifted, making the fur on the back of Theo's neck stand on end. Dream grasped the neck of the trident with an iron grip and easily twisted it out of the fox's paws as if he was snatching a toy from a child.

Theo stepped back with wide eyes as Dream advanced, throwing the trident aside carelessly while keeping his undivided attention on his son.

Theo's back hit the strong stalks of bamboo, halting his frantic reversal to escape Dream. He bit down a yell as his other father grabbed his arm and pulled him close, his grip tight and unyeilding.

"Where is Fundy." Dream said. It was not a request, it was an order. Theo bared his fangs. "Fuck you."

"Tell me where he is!!" Dream yelled, yanking Theo closer as he tried to pull away. Theo clenched his free fist and felt it charge with green magic.

"Get off me!!" Theo snarled, his glowing fist being Dream's only warning before it swung dead center into his smiling mask.

Dream flew backwards, Theo crying out in pain as the god pulled the fox's arm hard enough that he heard a small pop in his shoulder before Dream's grip finally broke. Theo's vision blurred with white stars of pain as Dream landed in the pond below, thrown a significant distance from the force of Theo's blow.

Theo gasped and clutched at his arm, a throbbing ache from his shoulder forcefully taking his breath from his lungs. He staggered over to the discarded trident and picked it up with his left paw, holding it close to his chest as his right arm lay useless at his side.

Theo's eyes slowly widened in fear as Dream rose from the pond, crackling bolts of a familiar green energy encasing his entire body. Theo could feel his fury from 50 blocks away.

Theo tightened his grip on the trident, his ears flat to his head as his father started to float menacingly towards him. He was lightheaded with pain and one arm short, but refused to admit defeat. Theo stood his ground and bared his teeth as Dream closed in.

-

Fundy paced the length of Logstedshire's walls, his mind addled with worry. Theo hadn't been seen since he awoke, something that wasn't abnormal. His son liked the early morning. What worried Fundy was the fact that there was no note telling where he ran off to like there usually was, and he was not in his regular places of comfort outside the walls. He just simply disappeared.

"Could've forgot." Tommy wondered aloud to Fundy from his spot next to the Prime Log. His uncle had been looking for guidance from the vessel all morning, but was met with silence from his deity.

"No." Fundy instantly shot him down, turning in place to pace down the south wall again. "I rammed it into that kid's head to always tell me where he was. He wouldn't have forgotten."

A gust of chill from behind halted Fundy's nervous movement. He sighed and flattened his ears.

"What do you want, Wilbur."

"Hello, Fundy!" Ghostbur greeted cheerfully, unperturbed by his son's cold acknowledgement. "Is little Theo back yet?"

Fundy turned to face him. "You saw him leave?"

"Yes!" Ghostbur said. "He said he needed to take care of something and told me not to tell you--...oh." Ghostbur's face flickered. "Frick."

Fundy moved to grab Ghostbur's arm, his paw passing right through his father's transparent form. "Wil, tell me where he went." Fundy demanded, his voice rigid with fear. Ghostbur's face twisted in guilt.

"He said not to say anything," the spirit said hesitantly. Fundy flattened his ears tight to his head.

"Wilbur. My son is in trouble." Fundy said, driving every spot of desperation he felt into his words. "He's gonna fuck himself over and he's gonna get himself killed if you don't tell me where he went. For once in your fucking existance, Wil, be a good dad."

Fundy exhaled and looked at the ground, blinking tears from his eyes. "If not for me, then--at least for Theo."

Ghostbur had gone very transparent, his eyes far away. For a tense second, Fundy feared his dead father would disappear until he forgot again.

"He went to Technoblade." Ghostbur murmured dazedly, blinking. "He said he needed a weapon."

Fundy ran his paw over his head, his core filling with dread. "Shit. Shit." He tried so long to keep Theo hidden, to protect him, to keep him safe, and it was all falling apart.

Fundy cursed himself. He never should have told his son the truth. This was all his fault.

Fundy looked back up to Ghostbur, desperately searching his eyes. "Is he still there?"

Ghostbur shrugged, and Fundy wanted to tear his fur out.

"He...asked about Dream? I don't know why. He seemed very interested in your marriage." Ghostbur commented. Fundy squeezed his eyes shut, old scars flaring up at his father's words.

"He's going to the SMP." Fundy breathed. He snapped his head to Tommy, who mirrored his look of fear. "Tommy, we have to find him--oh shit, shit, he's going to get himself killed--"

Tommy's hands grabbed Fundy's arms, though the fox didn't notice him rise from the Prime log.

"Fundy--I-I can't go there. Dream will kill me." Tommy said, his voice only imperceptibly trembling. Fundy's shoulders began to shake. "He'll die if we don't, I--"

"Fundy, I can't go with you." Tommy reiterated in a pleading voice. "But you're not exiled like I am."

Fundy blinked. "So--I'm--I'm on my own." He realized. Tommy didn't respond, only pressed his mouth in a thin line.

"I'm--I can't. I can't die." He said, and Fundy could see regret and shame and fear behind his uncle's eyes.

Fundy stilled. "I...understand."

"You won't be alone!" Ghostbur piped up from behind them, his voice already back to its raspy happiness. Fundy set his jaw.

"Ghostbur. You need to stay with Tommy. You'll just fuck it up." Fundy stated, disdain dripping from his words. He turned away from his uncle and the ghost of his father, steeling himself for leaving Logstedshire for the first time.

"Fundy." Tommy said, and the fox paused. "Take whatever you need." His uncle said. Fundy turned to see Tommy gesturing to the storage house.

Tommy was a hoarder. After the visits from Dream, the boy had squirreled away everything he could get his hands on, hidden from the explosive fate that all the rest of his belongings had suffered. Tommy was possessive and greedy, but here he was, opening his entire supply of preperations to his nephew.

Fundy swallowed, a task that had suddenly become difficult. "Thank you, Tommy." He struggled, never one to know how to express his gratitude in his words. His father was the poet, after all. Not him.

Tommy nodded regardless, and Fundy got the feeling that he knew what his nephew was trying to convey.

Fundy made quick work of packing. Food, armor, axe. A golden apple just in case. He stopped, and then grabbed a second.

There was no such thing as too careful against Dream.

Before he sealed his pack, Fundy took a deep breath. Time was a medicine, and had helped Fundy heal from his former husband shattering him into pieces.

Going right back to the man who hurt him so badly could only end as such, and Fundy would never attempt it on his own.

But the greatest gift that came from Dream was Theo, and he meant more to Fundy than anything else in the realms. He was not about to abandon him to the fate of his divine father, no matter how bad it would hurt to go back.

Fundy clipped the top of his pack together and slung it over his shoulder.

For Theo, he would do anything. If that meant facing his hell to save his son, then so be it.

Ghostbur was gone when Fundy returned, and he didn't care. Good riddance. In the past, he would have felt a small twinge of guilt, but that was a long time ago.

Tommy saw him off, waving solemnly from the walls of Logstedshire. Fundy knew Tommy had done all he could, but the fox couldn't help but feel a very small twist of abandonment. Fundy was more than willing to risk his life for Theo, and a part of him wished Tommy was too.

Fundy shook his head. That was unfair to think. He focused on the horizon, his breath fogging in the morning air, and sent a silent wish to whatever god would listen that his son would be okay when he found him.

[caramelcal]

the truth hurts... {part ten}

Every time your soulmate lies, a mark presents itself on your body. In a world like this, people normally told the truth so that their soulmate didn’t have to deal with the consequences. But your soulmate? They seemed persistent to make your life hell, and mark your body until there was no skin left.

Word Count: 1.5k

a/n: hi guys! sorry, it feels like so long since I’ve posted this series but here is the next part! I hope you guys enjoy it! have a wonderful day lovelies x 

Taglist: (comment if you want to be added, or you can message me) @itsjustmeiguessallrightthen​ @moonbeams-stuff  @cece-lives-here​ @aprilfire18​ @adrianaprox​ @slytherinrising​ @deadric @xforeveralonerxx​ @lady1505​ @feyre-amidala 

Warnings: kissing i guess lol, swearing

disclaimer: i do not condone plagiarism on my work at all, this has not been posted on any other platforms, or on tumblr anywhere else but my account (rosemoonmist) if you see anyone plagiarizing mine (or anyone else’s account) please inform the rightful author ! thank you lovelies x

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It was dark when you opened your eyes, a ceiling much different to your bedroom one meeting your eyes. Your vision was obscured but was quickly clearing up as the daze from your sleep passed. There was a reoccurring dripping sound, like a leaking roof. The room smelled dingy and was cold, making you shiver on your spot. Where the hell were you?

With that thought, you try to sit up but find that you can’t. You can’t move. Eyes shooting open yet again, your heart rate speed up making you look down where you lay. Thick leather constraints hold you to the operating table, metal operating table hitting uncomfortably against your back.

The Dread Doctor’s Lair.

You couldn’t do anything though, your hope for you getting out of sticky situations diminishing as you think properly. You couldn’t scream, you didn’t even know where you were and if Scott would even hear you, but the Dread Doctors would, and they would get to you a lot faster. Even if you were to get out, you couldn’t fight the Dread Doctors, or Theo if you came across him; a bitter taste came into your mouth just thinking about him. You couldn’t even move, not only the restraints holding you down, but you feel weak. Far weaker than you should have been feeling.

That’s when your eyes cast down to your arm, seeing several tubes filled with strange liquids flowing into your bloodstream. No. Against your better thinking, you hopelessly tug on the restraints again.

“There’s no point struggling, n/n,” A voice says softly from the far corner of the room, eyes flickering up to the corner, he steps out of the shadows and your throat closes up. You struggle again, harsher, with more panic in your movement that he certainly doesn’t miss, “You’ll only make yourself weaker.”

“What have you done to me?” You croak out, now just noticing how scratchy your voice is. You don’t know how long you’ve been here, but it feels like you’ve certainly been deprived of water for a while.

“Don’t sound so accusing y/n. It’s a gift, really,” Theo smirks at you, but you simply glare back. His eyes cast down to your restrained body as he reaches the operating table you were on, hand ghosting lightly over your clothed leg. You try your best to reject his touch but the restraints don’t allow that, yet he still notices, blue eyes glancing up at you, “Well I guess you’re not in a great mood today, y/n.”

“Fuck off, Raeken,” You spit out, eyes glaring dangerously at the boy. Somehow, even though your lack of power over him at the moment, you still didn’t back down and he guessed he could respect that.

“Well y/n, that’s not very nice is it?” Theo said, tilting his head to the side as he pouted lightly, eyes never leaving yours, “You should be thanking me, after all.”

“For what? Turning me into a monster like you?” You grimace at the sight of him, eyes looking up and down his body with distaste.

Theo, who was standing by your feet walked around the operating table, coming closer to your head wiped a piece of your hair out of your face before he notices something else on your face, “You’re not a monster, not yet. But once you come back everything will finally be in order.”

“Come back?”

Theo hesitates to answer before his finger reaches for your mouth again, with that, he lightly touches your lip before pulling back. He looks down at his hand for several moments, before his blue eyes glance back at you, “I guess what I said in the library is true, I’ll be your alpha soon enough, even with Scott in the picture. You aren’t the one that the Dread Doctors are looking for.”

“You’ll never be my alpha.”

“I don’t think you have many other choices, y/n,” Theo replied with a smirk, looking back down at his hand as his eyes widen in amusement when you look at him with confusion etched on your face. Wordlessly, he turns his hand around and it makes your stomach drop. On his hand, is what he wiped from your mouth.

Mercury.

. . .

A gasp wakes you up, your body flying forward into a sitting position whilst you heave in deep breaths. Your world feels like it's spinning, your hand hitting against your chest, almost as if it’s trying to let something out. Your eyes notice something, a dark wooden door placed in front of you. Your bedroom door. You’re home and you’re safe.

You clamber out of bed, bare feet hitting against the soft carpet underneath as you walk over to your mirror. Your hand reaches up to touch the corner of your mouth, where Theo had touched only moments ago but your hand comes back clean. Your gaze doesn’t leave your reflection as you look over the rest of yourself, reaching to pull the long sleeves of your jumper up as you hear a voice, “You surely are dramatic aren’t you?”

You whip around, stepping back so that your back is firmly pressed against the mirror as your eyes survey the dark room. Again, in very him fashion, Theo steps out of the shadows, a smirk on his face, “Theo.”

“Y/n,” He nods his head, taking a step forward with his hands clasped behind his back. He looks different from the last time you saw him, his hair is slightly longer than before, his smirk a little wider.

“Don’t come any closer, Theo, I swear,” You spit out at the boy, looking up and down his body, seething.

He tuts at you lightly, his smirk never falling off of his face whilst he shakes his head, “Ouch, Princess, such hostility.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Now, now, don’t pretend that you don’t like it,” Theo had always been confident but this was a new high.

Yet, deep down, even though you hated Theo so much for everything he had done, he was right. You had been willing to let Theo in just before he betrayed the pack, but that was always his plan, he never liked you. He never would.

“What do you want, Theo?” You say, breaking the silence that you and Theo found yourself, thick with tension.

He cocks his head to the side, his smile mocking as he speaks, “Can’t I just come to check on you? Is that such a crime?”

“It will be if I get a restraining order which I am seriously considering right now,”

“I think you forget n/n, I can hear that little heartbeat of yours,” Theo says, moving closer dreadfully slow before he stops right in front of you, pointing at your heart. His voice is husky now, his breath fanning dangerously over your face as he begins to speak again, “I can also hear how fast your heart is beating right now, and I know that you want this as much as I do.”

You don’t move away, and when Theo attached his lips onto you, it shamefully doesn’t take you much time to reciprocate. You shouldn’t be here with him right now, your back pressed up against your wall, hand in his hair, with his hands around you, encasing you in his hold.

The kiss was passionate, and it was full of need. You and Theo hadn’t seen each other for weeks, and now here you were. You had been trying to convince yourself that you hated him, but right now you weren’t doing well for that plan.

Eventually, Theo breaks away from your lips for a breather, yet as soon as he’s finished getting his breath back, you have your lips back against him. It’s addictive, not only him but because you know that you can’t have him. It makes you want him more. Now, you’re taking the lead and he’s the one against the wall, your hands pressed against his stomach, feeling his abs through the shirt he has on.

You can feel him smirk into the kiss as he tries to take control again, shifting around and has your back smashed against the wall. You’re practically melted against him as his tongue explores your mouth. It isn’t long before things escalate and he’s reaching for your sweater, one that you don’t even think about twice before taking off.

His lips are back on yours once the sweater is off, and you don’t even feel slightly uncomfortable with the sweater on the floor. The next thing you know, his lips are against your neck, then your collarbone, sucking on the skin and leaving it to bruise.

Your hand is still entangled in his hair, your eyes slightly opening in pleasure but suddenly your body goes rigid. Theo feels your shoulders tense, and he hears your heart rate speed up, pulling away from you with a look of confusion but your eyes aren’t on him, they’re on your arm.

Your arm, the one that was covered with ink because of your soulmate and their lies. But it’s gone. The ink is gone.

[lucky-katebishop]

What I Read in July 2021

Oh, man, this is gonna be a long post. I bookmarked 33 fics, all of them Harry Potter related, with a few cross-overs.

Forget-Me-Not by Lomonaaeron *favorite*

Plot: Harry isn’t the Boy-Who-Lived, but his parents still died, and Albus Dumbledore, concerned that Death Eaters might seek the boy’s death, cast a powerful charm on him to make wizards ignore him before Harry was left with the Dursleys. Except, with the Elder Wand in play, the charm was far too powerful, and made others essentially forget Harry existed when not directly interacting with him. Sorted into Ravenclaw at Hogwarts, Harry lives a contented life with no one either loving or hating him…until the charm breaks on his seventeenth birthday, and he’s suddenly plunged directly into the middle of a living world at war.

Characters: Harry, Theo Nott, Dumbledore, Neville, Ollivander, Lupin, Rabastan Lestrange, Ron, Hermione, Draco, original non-human characters, Peter Pettigrew, Umbridge

Relationships: Harry Potter/Theo Nott

Warnings: none apply

Tags: ancient runes, socially awkward Harry Potter, Ravenclaw Harry Potter, Harry Potter is not the boy-who-lived, angst, romance, horcruxes, muggleborn registration commission, blood magic

My Notes: I inhaled this in one sitting and then cried for like 10 minutes afterwards, it’s so beautifully written, it became an instant favorite

*complete*

He Turned Around by ChipOfftheOldSoul *favorite*

Plot: When the Goblet of Fire spit out Harry's name that Halloween night, he was told to join the other champions. Instead, he turned around and walked away.

Characters: Harry, Snape, Draco, Ron, Hermione, Victor Krum, Cedric Diggory, Fleur Delacour, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle, Daphne Greengrass, Fred & George, Marcus Flint, Millicent Bulstrode, Tracey Davis

Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter; Harry Potter & Severus Snape; Draco Malfoy & Severus Snape

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse, mentioned homophobia

Tags: book 4, good Severus Snape, good Draco Malfoy, good Slytherins, smart Harry Potter, Dumbledore bashing, manipulative Dumbledore, past child abuse, runes, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Slytherin Harry Potter, Hogwarts House re-sort, no Ron bashing but he’s not great for a while

My Notes: I’ve already read this twice in less than a week period and I cannot wait until it’s updated (hopefully it’ll be updated) and I absolutely love the way it’s written and Harry’s characterization. I also very much appreciate that there won’t be Ron bashing, I’ve read too many Ron bashing fics, but I am here for all of the Dumbledore bashing!

*incomplete* [last updated June 2021]

Stars by LilyIsAwesomerThanYou

Plot: When Snape discovers Harry's abusive past during an Occlumency lesson, Harry panics. Snape is forced to take care of him in the aftermath. Mentor/guardian fic. As always, no slash.

Characters: Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione

Relationships: Gen

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse, emotional/psychological abuse, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, depression

Tags: Severitus, angst, drama, past abuse, hurt/comfort, mentor Snape, guardian Snape, occlumency

My Notes: Snape is a dick in this one, and so far he has not gotten any better, just a warning, but there’s some great Harry angst going on here (that’s why I bookmarked it). Yeah, Snape is pretty evil in this one, there’s some victim blaming and just straight up verbal abuse from him.

*incomplete* [last updated 2018]

violet hill by rejectedreality

Plot: Where Harriet Potter is Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes’ soulmate.

Fandoms: Harry Potter & MCU

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Harry Potter, Steve Rogers, Hermione, Ron

Relationships: Bucky Barnes/Harry Potter; Steve Rogers/Harry Potter; Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers; Bucky/Steve/Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse, emotional/psychological abuse

Tags: fem!Harry Potter, soulmate-identifying marks, age difference, angst with a happy ending, it gets worse before it gets better

My Notes: this is so, so, so fucking beautiful! I am straight up in love with this fic, and I am so sad that it hasn’t been updated for a few years because there was so much potential. There are some hints at underage couples, as Harry’s 15 while Bucky and Steve are adults, but nothing actually happens.

*incomplete* [last updated 2017]

trapped in a blue haze by MourningElegance

Plot: “And in that moment, Draco knows. He knows that all his deep-rooted suspicions about Harry’s childhood are terribly, horribly true.” As their relationship grows, so do Draco’s misgivings about Harry’s past.

Rating: Explicit!!!

Characters: Harry, Draco

Relationships: Harry/Draco

Warnings: explicit sexual content, implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: established relationship, smut, porn with plot, explicit sexual content, fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, cuddling, post-war, post-Hogwarts, auror Harry Potter, POV Draco, character study, sickfic, epilogue what epilogue, injury

*complete*

From the Dungeons by huntersg1rl

Plot: One conversation goes slightly differently. How much does it change? Features a caring Snape, supportive Malfoys, strong friendships, and Slytherin Harry.

Characters: Harry, Draco, Blaise, Pansy, Daphne, Snape, Narcissa, Lucius, Sirius, Remus, Pomfrey, Dumbledore

Relationships: pre-Harry/Draco; Severus Snape & Harry Potter

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Slytherin Harry Potter, Good Severus Snape, good Lucius Malfoy, good Narcissa Malfoy, manipulative Dumbledore, POC Harry, animagus transformation, wizengamot, politics and culture

My Notes: YA’LL! This one is so cool! It’s going under some major maintenance at the moment, so it’ll be a bit of a wait until it gets going again but I recommend reading it immediately before the changes get enacted. I don’t want to spoil anything, but Harry’s a BAMF in this series, especially when we get to book 3

*incomplete* [this is a series, first three parts are completed, last updated February 2021]

Fighting for Freedom by dreamsofmermaids

Plot: At the end of a horrific fourth year, Harry overhears something on the train back to London that sets in motion a series of events that will reveal truths, change decisions, and send Harry on a path to true freedom. But nothing comes without a fight.

Fandoms: Harry Potter & Criminal Minds

Characters: Harry, Snape, Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Jason Gideon, Emily Prentiss, Sirius Black, Voldemort

Relationships: to be announced (I know, I’m sorry, I hate this too)

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, major character death, attempted sexual assault, implied/referenced child abuse, suicide attempt, kidnapping

Tags: Dumbledore bashing, Weasley bashing, Hermione bashing, Harry runs away, Snape bashing, not so evil Voldemort, trouble magnet!Harry

My Notes: this one is really good and it features a Harry and Dobby friendship. I’m gonna spoil it right now, Hotchner is Harry’s dad, I hate it when it doesn’t state it in the tags

*incomplete* [last updated February 2021]

From Grace by silver_fish *favorite*

Plot: From the top of the Astronomy Tower, the stars always look brighter. Funny, how Harry can’t seem to find them at all anymore.

Characters: Harry, Snape, Hermione, Ron

Relationships: Harry & Snape

Warnings: suicidal thoughts, implied/referenced child abuse, attempted suicide

Tags: set during Ootp, insomnia, nightmares, teenage angst, emotional hurt/comfort

*complete*

A Beautiful Lie by Panis_fluvium

Plot: Harry receives his letter while the Dursley's are on vacation. Harry takes it upon himself to find out if the letters he receives are true or if someone is playing a massive joke on him. What happens when he journey's to Diagon Alley alone? What happens when he finally gets to school? Will he finally fit in? Will he finally escape the abuse?

Characters: Harry, Draco, Snape, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Blaise, Pansy, Ron, Hermione

Relationships: Draco/Harry; Pansy/Blaise; Snape/?

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Severitus, Slytherin Harry, bullying, shy Harry, slight Ron bashing, fairly good Voldie, misunderstood darkside, manipulative Dumbledore

*incomplete* [last updated June 2021]

The heir of something or other by diregewithoutmusic

Plot: When kids in the Slytherin Common Room tossed jeers at the pudgy feet of Millicent Bulstrode, Harry rose up to do something about it. This Harry, now one of Snape’s own, got fewer House points lost but many more detentions– it had never been the colors on his hem that Severus hated. This was not wishing Harry an easy path. This was not wishing the boy a warm House. This was Harry, three weeks in, sleep deprived and considering running away and going back to Privet Drive. This was Harry in the back of Potions class, blank-faced under Snape’s disdain the way he’d perfected under the Dursleys’s torments. When Quirrell shouted “troll in the dungeons, thought you ought to know,” and Harry overheard that there was a girl in the bathroom crying, he still ran off to make sure she got out okay. He hesitated first, at the back of the little pack of Slytherin first years (at the back so that no one could get behind him)– he hesitated. And Millicent Bulstrode, who could never quite keep her tummy tucked in enough, could never brush all the cat hair off her robes, never quite keep her temper in check, hesitated, too.

Characters: Harry, Millicent, Colin Creevey, Hermione, Dennis Creevey, Luna, Ron, Draco, Astoria, Daphne, Pansy, Neville, Susan Bones

Relationships: gen

Warnings: major character death

Tags: Slytherin Harry, canon typical violence

My Notes: this made me cry. It like actually made me cry. I don’t cry when I read fanfiction, but this one actually made me cry, it’s been two weeks and I still feel like crying thinking about this fic, but that being said it’s written so beautifully.

*complete*

Conditionally by Lomonaaeren

Plot: Harry finds out that he's Snape's son. It goes as badly as possible.

Characters: Harry, Snape, Dumbledore, Sirius, Hermione, Ron, Seamus, Umbridge, Rita, Neville, Voldemort

Relationships: minor Lily/Snape; Harry & Snape; Hermione & Ron & Harry

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, suicidal thoughts, minor character death

Tags: Severitus, present tense, powerful Harry, Snape is Harry’s biological father, unhealthy coping mechanisms, independent Harry

My Notes: wow this one made me so mad for Harry. Sirius and Remus are not Harry’s friends, nor Dumbledore. Be warned, as good as this fic is, you will be very angry at all the adults in this fic. Snape isn’t a loving father type, and their relationship isn’t the greatest but it’s better than nothing by the end.

*complete*

Harry Potter and the Secrets Within by WhoWroteThis

Plot: Harry Potter is a very special, but very abused little boy. When a giant drags him into a world unknown, he'll need all the help he can get to understand his newfound belonging. Lucky for him, he has a snake, a dragon, and a horde of protective allies on his side.

Characters: Harry, original animal characters, Snape, Draco, Lucius and Narcissa, Portrait Salazar Slytherin, Basilisk, Blaise, Hogwarts ghosts, Quirrell, Voldemort

Relationships: Harry & Voldemort; Harry & Draco; Harry & Snape

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse, internalized homophobia, implied/referenced alcohol abuse, suicide threats and thoughts

Tags: Harry Potter needs a hug, parseltongue, Harry Potter has a pet snake, powerful Harry, metamorphmagus Harry, good Malfoy family, Slytherin Harry, slow burn, Slytherin politics, Hagrid bashing, Hermione bashing, Ron bashing, Dumbledore bashing, rituals, centaurs, dragons, cats, snakes

My Notes: I will literally never be trustworthy of the basilisk after reading Antithesis but I have to admit the basilisk in this fic is pretty great

*incomplete* [last updated August 2021]

The Tainted Blood of the Father by StarLight_Massacre *favorite*

Fandoms: Supernatural & Harry Potter

Plot: Harry has broken away from his chains after the Dursleys go too far. A simple desire to make a withdrawal from Gringotts leads to something much larger and exposes more than he ever knew about himself. A rushed, impulsive trip to America changes his entire life as he might have just found himself a true family to call his own.

Characters: Harry, John Winchester, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby

Relationships: Gen

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, implied/referenced child abuse, attempted sexual assault

Tags: Awkward Winchesters trying to deal with Harry, cinnamon roll Harry

My Notes: The dynamic between Harry and the Winchesters shouldn’t work this well, but they absolutely do. Harry is a little Sam, he acts so much like him it’s so cute and everyone finds it so cute. Really great amount of angst and hurt/comfort. Doesn’t deal with the wizard side of things that much but I expect that’ll change in the upcoming chapters. Author has stated they don’t know if the Winchesters ever will find out that Harry’s a wizard, however, so keep that in mind

*incomplete* [last updated April 2021]

On a Pale Horse by Hyliian

Plot: When Dumbledore tried to summon a hero from another world to deal with their Dark Lord problem, this probably wasn't what he had in mind.

Characters: Harry, Death, Dumbledore, Hermione, Remus, Voldemort, Ron

Relationships: Gen

Warnings: none

Tags: master of death Harry, dimension travel, summoning rituals gone horribly wrong, godlike Harry, Dumbledore bashing, crack treated seriously, does major character death count as a tag when the major character is Death?

My Notes: so absolutely creepy, I love it so much, our Harry is not really all that much like Harry at all because he’s an immortal eldritch being of horror

*incomplete* [last updated 2018]

tell me whether he is dead by LullabyKnell *favorite*

Plot: Harry suffers a few side-effects of dying but not dying. “Hey, can someone help me with this? The mirror in the bedroom’s stopped working for me. “What do you mean ‘the mirror’s stopped working’?”

Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione

Relationships: Harry/Ron/Hermione

Warnings: none

Tags: post-canon, epilogue what epilogue, post-battle of Hogwarts, post-Deathly Hallows, haunting, implied/referenced character death, gen or pre-slash, fluff and angst, oblivious Harry, master of death Harry

My Notes: so fucking brilliant, this author literally never misses, the relationship between the golden trio is so fucking cute and I love them so much

*complete*

A New Place to Stay by DebsTheSlytherinSnapeFan *favorite*

Plot: Harry Potter is called up to Dumbledore's office and told he was being moved elsewhere to keep him safe. He no longer has to stay at the Dursley's, but Dumbledore tells him he has to stay with Severus Snape. For a few days it seemed like a bad idea. Until Severus Snape uncovers the truth of who Harry Potter really is and what he's been through. Watch as Severus does as nobody else has done before him. He takes care of Harry. Watch him flourish into who he was meant to be, a boy with the heart of a Gryffindor and smarts of a Slytherin. The Dursley's, Umbridge and Dumbledore had better watch out Severus is out for revenge. Spy or no spy, Severus is not allowing anyone away with hurting Harry.

Characters: Snape, Harry, Dumbledore, Neville, Luna, Hermione, Ron

Relationships: Gen

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Severitus

My Notes: I’ve read so many of these types of fics that even though this is more than 300k words I can’t remember a single thing about this but it must’ve been good because I labelled it as favorite, so

*complete*

Silver Lining by BloodyRed_Queen

Plot: Harry has a disastrous Summer with the Dursleys and is brought to Hogwarts early. In order to protect him, drastic measures are taken and Harry finds himself living with one Severus Snape.

Characters: Harry, Blaise, Draco, Snape

Relationships: Harry/Blaise; Harry & Snape

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: animagus, father-son relationship, severitus, Snape adopts Harry, good Slytherins, Ron bashing, Dumbledore bashing, therapy, manipulative Dumbledore

*complete*

truth’s like blood underneath your fingernails by Choices_We_Make, questionsthemselves

Plot: "Slytherin would do well, help you on the path to greatness," the hat seems to be coaxing him, but for something that can read his mind, it sure doesn't seem to know him very well. Harry doesn't want greatness. He doesn't need his name in lights and on everyone's lips. He wants meals, hot ones, whenever he wants, with people that he likes and that like him. Friends he can have adventures with, huddle under the blankets with at night and laugh with. People who might think… think he's worth something. In which Harry is sorted into Slytherin, and Snape deals with the fallout.

Characters: Harry, Snape, Draco, Theo, Blaise

Relationships: Harry & Snape

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Slytherin Harry, Severitus sort of, angst with a sort of hopeful ending, Snape discovers abuse

*complete* [part of a series, incomplete but first two parts are finished, last updated 2018]

Harry Potter and the Immortal’s Playground by May_May_o_o

Fandoms: MCU & Harry Potter

Plot: Living forever isn't all it's cracked up to be. Harry Potter learns the meaning of immortality when everyone he loves dies again and again after becoming the master of death. After millennia of love lost, Death sends him to "Elsewhere" in order to give his master something new and different. Harry emerges from ash in New Asgard. What's a man like Thor to do but offer the traveler a home?

Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna, Death, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Clint, Natasha, Loki, Thor, Bruce, May Parker

Relationships: Harry/Ginny; Thor/Harry; Harry & Avengers

Warnings: PTSD, suicide attempts

Tags: master of death Harry, magically powerful Harry, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, post-snap

My Notes: I don’t usually like Harry paired with any of the Avengers other than Peter, but Thor and Harry are so soft and written beautifully, I love this author so much

*incomplete* [last updated June 2021]

Another Mind Game by May_May_o_o *favorite*

Plot: Harry’s occlumency reveals his disturbing home life which sets off a chain reaction that cannot be undone. Snape finds himself begrudgingly caring about the bespectacled boy, Harry discovers what it's like to have adults who care, and Hermione finds herself becoming an accidental crime lord. Draco Malfoy is very much along for the ride, in all senses of the word. A ridiculous blend of hilarity and tragedy, Another Mind Game is the multi-faceted fanfiction you didn't know you wanted but will absolutely adore. Featuring a sassy Harry Potter, good friends, and a great deal of sarcasm.

Characters: Harry, Neville, Hermione, George, Fred, Snape, Ron, Luna, McGonagall, Dumbledore, house elves

Relationships: Draco/Harry; Hermione/Ron; Snape & Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse; presumed suicidal (it makes sense when you read it)

Tags: mentor Snape, strong Harry, sassy Harry, slow burn, fluff and angst, Dumbledore bashing, crack treated seriously, Snape adopts Harry, protective Hogwarts, magically powerful Harry

My Notes: favorite, absolute favorite, read it three times already and it’s only been three weeks! The endnotes are so funny and add a lot of levity to the story

*complete* (unfortunately, I wish I could read more)

Not Just Pretty Words by LullabyKnell

Fandoms: Harry Potter & The Addams Family

Plot: On an unexpected holiday to America, Harry Potter meets a strange girl at a zoo, finds out that he's a witch, steals a snake, and is cordially invited to the Addams mansion for dinner.

Characters: Harry, Wednesday, Morticia, Gomez

Relationships: Gen; Addams Family & Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Harry needs a hug, worldbuilding, happy ending, found family, light angst

*complete*

Bruised Words by starknjarvis

Plot: After Harry blows up Aunt Marge, Dumbledore decides it's not safe for Harry to spend the rest of the summer at the Leaky Cauldron, and instead sends him to stay at Spinner’s End with Professor Snape. It's tense, awkward, and teeming with misunderstandings...but it might be the best thing that's happened to either of them. They're both been without a family for a very long time.

Characters: Harry, Snape, Dumbledore

Relationships: Harry & Snape

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: traumatized Harry, miscommunications, Snape adopts Harry, sickfic

*complete* [part of series, incomplete, last updated 2020]

The Freak Who Lived by DeviantHufflepuff, Zaharya

Plot: When Harry's name comes out of the Goblet of Fire, he is kicked out of Gryffindor Tower by those he thought of as friends. It isn't until Snape finds him that the truth comes out about The Boy Who Lived.

Characters: Harry, Snape, Pomfrey, McGonagall, Viktor Krum, Fleur, Cedric, Draco, Neville, Blaise

Relationships: Sirius/Remus; Harry & Snape; Harry/Blaise

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, implied/referenced child abuse, PTSD, trauma induced age regression (not intense), suicidal thoughts

Tags: book 4, Severitus, Snape adopts Harry, panic attacks, seer Luna, Harry needs a hug, McGonagall is basically Harry’s mom, manipulative Dumbledore but he’s not evil, big brother Draco

My Notes: Snape is pretty cuddly in this one, he’s not shy with feelings and showing Harry that he’s loved which is nice and a nice change from other Severitus fics. Don’t be off-put by the age regression tag, it’s super low-key, there’s only a couple throw-away lines about it.

*incomplete* [last updated February 2021]

Dudley Dursley’s Most Unexpectedly Fortunate Flower by aTasteofCaramell

Plot: Dudley Dursley is leading a perfectly normal life, his contact with his odd cousin limited to Christmas cards and peculiar memories. Until his daughter sneezes and sets the curtains on fire.

Characters: Harry, Dudley, Dudley’s children, Petunia and Vernon Dursley

Relationships: Dudley & Harry; Harry/Ginny

Warnings: none

Tags: humor, Dudley has a magical child, redeemed Dudley, post-series, Petunia and Vernon still suck, Harry Potter Next Generation

*complete*

Unexpected Consequences by Siebenschlaefer

Plot: The Ministry letter after the Dementor attack has far greater consequences than everybody could have anticipated and at the start of his fifth year in Hogwarts Harry has to be sorted again. And this time there is no negotiating with the Sorting Hat.

Characters: Harry, Snape, Draco, Dumbledore, Hermione, Sirius, Lupin, Blaise, Ron

Relationships: Snape & Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Slytherin Harry, resorting

*incomplete* [last updated March 2021]

Stinging Nettle and Milking Pails by Oceanbreeze7 *favorite*

Plot: Are you a witch or / Are you a fairy? / Or are you the wife / of Michael Cleary? “The fairies will do wicked things sometimes,” Harry murmured gently, “Steal the milk when they get a chance, or skim the cream off the milk crocks.” “Do they ever steal anything more?” Luna asked him rhetorically. Harry couldn’t answer.

Characters: Harry, Luna, James, Lily

Warnings: author chose not to use warnings

Tags: wrong-boy-who-lived, Harry has a twin, dark fairy tale elements, fairy tale style, druids, fae and fairies, James and Lily live

My Notes: Oceanbreeze7 should straight up be a horror writer. This is the writer who wrote Antithesis, the fic that I was literally unable to finish because I was too heartbroken, and they did not disappoint with this one! It’s so good! It’s so horrific! It’s so heartbreaking!

*complete*

Sarcasm and Slytherin by orphan_account *favorite*

Plot: After ten years of misery with the Dursleys, Harry Potter learns that he has magic. Except, in this story, it's not a surprise-the only surprise is that there are others like him. Including his twin brother, Julian Potter, the savior of the Wizarding world. This isn't the Harry you think you know.

Characters: Harry, Theo, Blaise, OMC, Hermione, Ron, Neville, James Potter, Luna, Daphne, Snape, Dumbledore

Relationships: none

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: wrong-boy-who-lived, Slytherin Harry, Harry has a twin, Slytherin politics, no pairings before 4th year, potential Dumbledore bashing, James bashing, potential Snape bashing, Draco’s still annoying

My Notes: I’m not sure why it’s now an orphan account or if it will ever be updated, but I’ve seen a lot of people on reddit compare this with Prince of Slytherin (a series I haven’t read because I chose this one over it) so be cautious of that. I straight up want to murder James Potter, though, so that’s a nice thought. I finally finished it! I started this back in early June and I miss it a lot, I spent many hours reading this.

*incomplete* [five parts, last updated 2019]

The ones that seek and find (six years in the relationship of harry and luna) by Terapsina

Plot: By chance of fate Harry Potter meets Luna Lovegood in his second year instead of his fifth. It doesn’t really change anything for the magical world at large but it changes quite a lot for the young witch and wizard themselves. Here are six glimpses into their relationship from the moment they meet until the end of the war.

Characters: Harry, Luna, Ron, Hermione

Relationships: Luna/Harry; Harry & Ron & Hermione

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse, canonical character death

Tags: fluff and angst, blood quill, angst with a happy ending, no character bashing, epilogue what epilogue

*complete*

Blame it on the Nargles by Pixiestick_cc

Plot: One kiss under the mistletoe changes everything for Harry and Luna.

Characters: Harry, Luna, Hermione, Ron, Lavender Brown, Xenophilius Lovegood, Fred and George, Percy

Relationships: Luna/Harry

Warnings: none

Tags: fluff, romantic friendship, kissing, book 6

My Notes: this one is so cute, I’ve read it five times already, Harry’s able to see the creatures Luna can when he kisses her!

*complete*

Finders, Keepers by Magi_Silverwolf

Plot: “I’m here to kidnap you,” Luna said. “Will you be so kind as to get in this trunk, please?” “I’m fairly certain that kidnappers aren’t supposed to politely ask you to go with them.” “Duly noted,” Luna commented before gesturing to the trunk again. “Get in, Harry. We have a schedule to keep.”

Characters: Harry, Dumbledore, Luna

Relationships: Luna/Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: book 5, fairy Luna, werewolf Remus, magically powerful Harry, manipulative Dumbledore

*complete*

Not Right For Him by JJ Rust

Plot: How will Hermione react when she learns Harry and Luna are together?

Characters: Hermione, Luna, Harry

Relationships: Harry/Luna

Warnings: none apply

Tags: romance, drama

*complete*

The dreamy one by Levi Snowfractal

Plot: Harry finds himself thinking about Luna Lovegood while in detention.

Characters: Harry, Luna

Relationships: Harry/Luna

Warnings: none apply

Tags: romance

*complete*

She Made Him Feel Silly by ArtemisRoseShadow

Plot: The hero usually fell in love with the ever-so-loved princess. It still felt like that to Harry.

Characters: Harry, Luna

Relationships: Harry/Luna

Warnings: none apply

Tags: romance, drama

*complete*

Oh thank god I finished that, that took three hours. Alright check out more of my recs, I have more! Thanks for reading, let me know if you read any of them :)

[cxplqnce]

Theo Raeken - Sorry

Word Count: 1,156

Based on Sorry by Bonnie Anderson

Masterlist

Tongue-tied, tryin' to give your reasons

Spit it out, say it like you mean it

Forgiveness broken into pieces

Hey now, sorry won't turn back time

“How could you?” You spat, your voice barely above a whisper as tears flooded down your cheeks. “How could you?” You screamed, anger getting the better of you as you pulled at the handcuffs clipped around your right wrist.

Theo stood in front of you, you could see that he didn’t regret anything he had done – almost killing Scott and Lydia, manipulating the pack and almost tearing it apart, not even lying to you for weeks. “I’m sorry, Y/N... I did what I had to.”

“You’re a lying, manipulative coward!” You yelled, trying to hold back your tears. You had fallen for Theo since he had returned to Beacon Hills and had defended his innocence to the pack more than once – something you were now regretting. “I can’t believe I ever fell for you, you’re disgusting.” You spat, watching his blood boil.

“I did what I had to do.” He spoke, before he knelt down to look you in the eyes. You flinched as he brought his hand to your cheek, “I never meant to hurt you… I love you, Y/N.”

You sobbed once more, gathering as much strength as you could before looking him right in the eyes, “I hate you, Theo.”

Heartbeat beaten 'till we flatlined

Crash, burn, speeding through the stop signs

No more fear, running from a past life

Hey now, sorry won't turn back time

Later that night, at least you thought it was night. You had no idea of what time it was. You were sat in a basement, handcuffed to the wall and being watched by one of Theo’s goonies – Josh.

“I can help you.” Deucalion said, once Josh had left the room. He was hooked up to some kind of machine and had been there for longer than you had.

You sighed, “Why would you help me? You hate us.”

Deucalion just tapped his nose before his blind eyes turned normal and he pulled his arm away easily. You were in shock as he ripped the handcuffs off of the bar behind you and told you the directions out of the basement.

“Thank you.” You muttered, “Why don’t you come with me?”

“It’s all part of the plan, my dear.” He replied, hooking his arm back up and changing his eyes to seem like he had never moved at all. You smiled at him before you ran out of the basement and finally made it outside.

You immediately headed towards Scott’s house, even though you weren’t exactly sure where you were going – you had a faint idea. It took you almost three hours but you finally turned up on his doorstep, slamming on the front door.

It was Stiles who opened the door and caught you as you fainted.

-

“What happened?” Scott asked, once you had woken up. “Did he hurt you?”

You shook your head, “Not physically… I can’t believe I fell for it; I got sucked in like an idiot. I should’ve seen it – I should’ve known.” You muttered, your hands covering your face.

Scott sat own next to you on the couch, “It wasn’t your fault, Y/N.”

“Feels like it.”

I'm not giving into you

'Cause the truth still hurts

Lost the man I used to know

When the truth came out now where did it go?

You were sat behind a wall with Stiles, you both watched as Theo placed his claws against Lydia’s neck as his pack fought Parrish. You watched as Valack drilled into Theo’s leg and grabbed Lydia. You and Stiles stood up to face him but Parrish threw a burning Corey at you both, knocking you down.

Valack got away with Lydia as Theo threw a bar into Parrish’s chest. You pushed Corey off of Stiles, both of you scrambling to follow Valack but the door locked behind him. “Lydia!” You both yelled, hitting and kicking the door.

“Let me try.” You heard Theo say as he moved Stiles out of the way and kicked the door down. You and Stiles looked at Theo, anger and disgust present in your stares before you ran through the door, “You’re not gonna find her without me!” He yelled behind you, following you as you ran through the hallways.

You got to an open door but Theo caught up with you, “Guys! Look, I want her out of here too. I’ve got her scent.”

“What do you want?” Stiles replied, acknowledging his existence – which was something you had yet to do.

“What’s the difference?” Theo asked, “I can find her, you can’t.”

Before you or Stiles could reply, smoke started to come out of a window to your right. The three of you found the door to the room and barged in, seeing that it was a shower room filled with patients that were cowering in fear. You found where the smoke was coming from – a vent on the floor and leant down to look into it.

“It leads to the tunnels doesn’t it?” Theo asked.

Stiles nodded, realisation and frustration making their way onto his expression, “There are miles of them. They could be anywhere by now.”

“We’re gonna find her.” You said, placing your hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

No, I don't need you anymore

Don't tell me I'm insane

I'm not coming back to you

'Cause the truth came out of the liar's grave

You walked around the tunnels for ages, finally finding Lydia after having to break up about twenty arguments between Theo and Stiles – without actually speaking directly to Theo. You didn’t even know if you could look him in the eye but you had to when he grabbed your arm to stop you following Stiles and Lydia out of the tunnels.

“Let go.” You said, without turning around, as you tried to pull your arm away. “Theo, let go.”

“Look at me.” He said, pulling your arm as gently as he could, “Please, Y/N. Just look at me.”

You took a deep breath and turned around the face him, “What? What do you want? Are you gonna kidnap me again? Cause it was so enjoyable the first time.”

“I’m not… I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry for hurting you.”

You scoffed, “Really? Are you kidding me?” You yelled, yanking your arm out of his grasp. “You think that ‘sorry’ is going to make any difference! You almost killed Lydia, you killed Scott, you hurt – oh, I don’t know – everyone… and you smashed my heart to pieces. You did unforgiveable things and if you think that I’m going to forgive you and come back – you are wrong… because I hate you and I’m done letting you walk all over me!” You spat, tears welling up his eyes as you turned your back and left.

Sorry won't turn back time

A/N: Hope you enjoy! Follow my instagram @cxplqnce :) also I take requests if you have any - for any of the fandoms on my masterlist and some others! :)

[braindeacl]

Frostbite | Eilidh & Miriam

TIMING: Weeks ago.  PARTIES: @meflemming & @braindeacl SUMMARY: Eilidh and Miriam find a great feast after a sudden blast of cold. WARNINGS: Lots of corpse eating.

White. It covered the streets. The buildings. The people. Everything was lost to the white. A blanket thrown down by the heavens, suffocating everything under its might. The streets and the buildings had no chance, locked in place by their very nature. They accepted their—stood brave against the frost and waited for the melt to break its hold. The people had hope, and for some this hope was justified. As the first white specks fell to the ground, many scurried away. To safety. But the specks soon turned to a pour soon turned to an onslaught. By then, the few who remained had nowhere to go. Stuck in place. Same as the streets and the buildings. But the melt would not free them, only their corpses. The first of these deaths sent an alluring perfume in the air. Calling to Eilidh. Tugging at that hunger that always gnawed no matter how much she fed, only the intensity could be changed. By the time she came upon the scene, the body’s core had turned a pale blue. But the paleness shifted to darkness along the extremities. Darker and darker and darker still. Until the fingers and the toes were a pitch black. Bubbling and breaking along the utmost tips. Lost to the ever encompassing white. 

But Eilidh had no mind for details. Death was all she saw, all she needed to see. Without a thought, her teeth disrupted the scene—broke off more pieces of that brittle body. It cracked and crunched and crumpled against her teeth. Tumbled down her throat like dirt. But filled her all the same. The face and an arm were lost to her insides by the time she returned from the thrall of death. With a new shine to her eyes, she surveyed the area. The truth of the situation becoming apparent. Others shambled through the snow—still clinging to a slipping sense of hope. Others were stilled except for the slow and rhythmic rises of their chests—soon to be like the mangled pile of flesh below her. A source of pain and agony for them. A source of a buffet for her. But confliction tore at her soul. For those who still fought against the creeping death. She rushed over to one. Wishing to grip them back to salvation. But fingers grasped that cold air as the person fell to the ground. Landing as a corpse. And that confliction gave way to the hunger again. 

It was so cold that frost was beginning to form on Miriam’s skin. Not what she expected for a midsummer night, but, really, she had grown up in White Crest; she knew just as well as any of the locals that the expected was to never be expected. So, when a freak blizzard came out of nowhere in the dead of night, she took it in stride. She ended up stuck in it, She managed to break free, one leather covered arm pushing its way out of the snow, and Miriam stood, brushed the snow off, and began walking. The effort reminded her of how long it had been since she’d gone out and fed, an increased workload as well as a desire to spend time with her favorite person keeping her from sustaining herself properly. But it didn’t matter. Miriam could practically taste so much misery on her tongue that she wouldn’t have been able to avoid it even if she tried. Heels crunching through the snow, she headed towards the source. She just wasn’t expecting the carnage that greeted her. “I suppose I’m interrupting dinner, aren’t I?” She asked the zombie feasting, an icy eyebrow raised as she moved her hands to her hair and shook crystalline flakes of snow out of it.

Silence was cut off abruptly by that casual tone. Calm like the blanket of snow surrounding—snuffing out any touch of chaos. Eilidh stopped, spit out a tooth. Not hers—the poor sap’s on the ground. She turned to meet the woman’s eyes. They were cold like the air, but untouched by it. Unlike all the others whose lives were sucked out like the previous heat. Clearly the other wasn’t human. And human suffering and slaughter was not a bother. She wasn’t like Eilidh—hunger did not compel the other’s teeth to bite and gnaw like it did to her. Curious. Her teeth bared for a moment, animal protecting its food. But the other made no motions, and teeth were replaced with tongue. It licked at her lips, removing some of the dark crusts of blood and flesh bits. But it hardly made a difference—her face and neck and arms were caked in the stuff. Not that she particularly cared. The other seemed to place more interest in her looks. Genuine leather ensemble paired with impractical heels. Her face the most evident of this interest, and Eilidh took interest in turn looking. She let out an airy chuckle. “Not really. What brings you here? Hungry, too?” 

The woman was a mess. Miriam had never seen such a messy eater, though, it wasn’t like she was around too many zombies who feasted upon anything more than animal brains cooked or blended into smoothies. And she had to assume that this was a zombie. The lack of heartbeat was, of course, quintessential for one of the undead, but the consumption of flesh, along with the blunt teeth, leaned more towards the walking dead end of the spectrum. “I suppose I was a bit peckish,” Miriam mused. “I was led here because of all the suffering.” It might not make sense, but that was what Miriam craved more than any sort of blood. She felt full, though, empowered in ways that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Mass misery, mass suffering. It sustained her. She looked at her new companion. “My, you’re a messy eater.”

“Ah. Sadist.” Not uncommon in this town, Eilidh had come to realize. Won’t find her complaining—it kept the food ripe. Head tilted at the thought, as she eyed the woman deeper. A waste of a beautiful face, though she’s wasted prettier. But she reminded herself the woman had done nothing. At least, not in front of her. Quick headshake threw that fuzz from her mind. Returning her back to herself. To the easy food surrounding. Motionless, as it seemed the last survivors were gone to the frost or soon approaching. There was a sadness. A wish for a different outcome. But fate decided their time was now. And so graciously decided the two of them would enjoy the spoils. There was nothing to do now but feed and not let their sacrifice go to waste. She broke off a finger; it came off like peanut brittle with a snap. It went into her mouth. That mouth came alive with snaps as her teeth chomped down and down and down. It crumbled on her lips, covered her in more mess. She shrugged at the observation, uncaring. “Food should be enjoyed. Plenty to go ‘round.”

“No, not a sadist,” Miriam said, and she didn’t know why she was so offended by that word. She wasn’t a sadist. The only times she’d ever really, properly enjoyed what she’d done had been killing Theo. But that wasn’t true, was it? She’d cried while she’d killed him, while the overwhelming misery and suffering that he’d felt had sustained her, while she’d turned his skin into a jacket. Miriam allowed her eyes to flash red at the woman in front of her and let her fangs drop. “Just a woman with an incredibly unfortunate set of dietary needs. Tragically, tragedy becomes me.” She looked at the way the woman ate a finger, her face momentarily twisting into something that wasn’t quite but could be very close to disgust. She’d made a mess during her own first large blood meals, but this really was ridiculous. “No, thank you. I think I’ll just take in the misery for now. I don’t enjoy blood slushies.”

Eilidh’s attention snapped back to the woman at her shift in tone. Understanding followed when eyes turned crimson, and teeth turned sharp. There was a shift in her head, a small nod in acknowledgment. “Ah, Dearg-Due.” Arguably tragic, for their name was born from it, as too were they. But Eilidh did not entirely think so—head tilting inquisitively at the revealing display. The woman didn’t share in her curiosity, face squinting in distaste to Eilidh’s own revealing nature. No offense was taken. Instead, Eilidh chomped harder. More gore bits tumbled down, as mischief shined in her eyes. Waiting for the squint to harden on the other’s face. “Don’t think there’s much left. Just the quiet.” As if to purposefully refute her, motion was detected a few meters away. Car door beat and beat and beat against the pile of snow, until it managed to be pushed away. Short, shivered gasps filled the air. Eilidh immediately sat up straighter at the occurrence, gaze locked where she believed the unseen survivor to be. Someone had managed to make it out!

A dearg-due. Miriam looked at this strange woman, not really understanding what she meant and hating that fact. “Right. A dearg-due.” A word that she’d have to look up on her own time, but, perhaps, something of import. Maybe a step closer to not feeling like she was stumbling through this wretched unlife without any sort of instruction manual. She narrowed her eyes at the other woman before rolling them and snorting, a most unladylike sound that she truthfully didn’t care about in present company. “There’s always a little left until it’s absolutely still,” she said, her ears picking up on the sound of a struggling heartbeat before the zombie’s head had even turned. With eyes the color of the blood spilled in the snow, Miriam looked at the man that was struggling, suffering, trying so, so hard to live. His cries were the most dreadful music, a delightful meal. She wanted it to stop. She was lithe on her feet and she made her way towards him, and her hand wrapped around his neck faster than he could blink. “Shh, it’ll be over soon,” she soothed, and she moved her hand, took a bite. It had been some time since she’d had blood straight from the source, and it was still warm, despite the chill in the air. By the time Miriam was done, there wasn’t much left of the man’s neck. She wiped at her face, her chin. She looked back at the zombie. “I suppose I’m a bit of a mess as well.” 

Eilidh’s feet had barely become reacquainted with the ground when the Dearg-Due made her way. Hand gripped tight, threatening to suck out his life. But teeth worked faster. By the time Eilidh was close enough to make out his features, last drops of that life trickled away. Left a red stain on the snow. Left a space for the sadness to return. But it too trickled away, lost to the fog she carried so well. Reverting to a stillness. A deep silence. Where not even a heartbeat could be found, for the two standing had none to spare. Until a chuckle broke it—brought some semblance of life back to the white expanse of the dead. “Ah. You do like blood slushies.” The other’s mouth dripped in the last of that man’s warmth—red blotches against the once spotless mold. But found herself enjoying the sight, more than before. Always an admirer of those with the touch of the wild. “Looks better. One more meal. Might even be stunning.” Like her, with fragments of bodies littering her face and chest, as it did the ground. Stained by that dark, crimson death. 

Wiping at the corners of her mouth as they ticked upwards ever so slightly, Miriam licked the blood off her thumb as she said, “Not quite a blood slushie. He was still lukewarm, at the least.” Amusement and disgust warred within her, both at the bloodbath as well as the woman in front of her. She was no different, now, really, blood on her face, a body in front of her. And she was still thirsty, so thirsty, the kind of thirst that, for once, couldn’t be tamed by misery. It was likely that the bags of blood in her home wouldn’t help much, either. She managed a laugh, though. “I think we have different thoughts on the word stunning, sweetness.” She was still thirsty. She said, “I’m not one to overindulge.” 

Tongue clicked in a baby’s attempt of disappointment. One that held no power, with a touch of humor. But the feeling did linger on the surface. Eilidh simply shrugged at the dismissal. “Only the greedy do.” There was a curious quirk of her brow, noting a strange expression on the other’s face. Causation could not be placed, but assumption was the feast had put the woman in a wild state of mind. Eilidh could certainly relate. Such a state told her to keep feeding, despite the all-consuming hunger being placated. To eat until satisfied instead of simply sated. Eyes focused intently on the recently deceased, whose flesh was still soft and tender and untouched by the stiffness of death and cold. Mouth salivated in turn. Hungry teeth had only ripped out a few mouthfuls when a new distraction arose. A sudden sound in the distance. Unknown but clearly approaching. Another predator? An oblivious local? A hunter? She hissed at the third suggestion, not wanting to deal with that ilk. Body lowered, fingers tensed, preparing for that encroaching mystery.

“Well, then, here’s to not being greedy, hm?” But Miriam was still feeling that tell-tale tinge of bloodlust under the surface, ever present but growing now. It had been so long since she’d fed properly. So long. And she wasn’t starving by any means, and she wasn’t going to complain about it, but, damn, when Miriam used to feed like this, she was ravenous. In the 90s, she’d slaughtered multiple people at a time as a result of her thirst for blood and pain. It would last for hours, only satisfied when she was surrounded by bodies. Much as she was now, but these weren’t bodies of her making. One just wasn’t enough. She heard the sound of a car door slam, saw blue sirens just ahead of them, smelled someone as they approached. Miriam didn’t think. The officer was dead before she properly arrived on the scene, and Miriam ripped her throat before she could make so much as a gurgle. This was warm blood, delicious as it soothed the ache inside her that she hadn’t even noticed. How was Miriam supposed to notice when she neglected this side of herself so thoroughly? She didn’t know. She looked up at her new companion and straightened once more, washing the blood from her face and hands with the snow. The entire altercation had been quick, so quick. Miriam wasn’t one for apologies. She rarely apologized. That was how she was raised. However, she did manage to say, “I’m not normally this…” her lips twitched, “emphatic.”

The situation seemed remedied, as the vampire charged at that approaching commotion. Reduced to gurgles and silence, a seeping redness behind abandoned vehicles. Eilidh feasted as well, hardly one to neglect the hunger. Stripping more of that first kill’s recognizability. Turned from man to meat in tattered clothes. Enough to doubt it was ever a man at all. Calming the pestering part of her mind lost to the fog. She sucked on her own fingers, removing viscera clinging between wrinkles and under nails. Nothing gone to waste. She turned in time to meet her carnage companion. Both stained and dripping in fresh blood. The other trying to hide this fact, transferring blame onto the snow. Eilidh made no such motion, almost wearing it with pride. “Should try it some more. Looks like you enjoy it.” Her attention shifted to what lay behind, the cause of interruption. Lone police car illuminated in that swirl of blue and red, still waiting for its passenger. “Well, they never send just one. ‘Bout to be crawling with ‘em now.” Head tilted at a consideration—to lie in wait for the food to come. But enough death had touched these lands in one night. And, of course, she wasn’t greedy. She gripped onto the remains of that mangled corpse—lugged it onto her shoulder. Before taking her leave, she addressed the woman cut of similar clothe. “What should I call you, lady of blood?” 

Having never really eaten with a zombie before, Miriam couldn’t quite contain the look of horrified fascination. Really, she’d never seen anyone eat with such gusto, not even at dinner parties her parents hosted years and years ago. Maybe Miriam just wasn’t used to watching other undead eat. Not entire bodies, at least, and not like that. It was fascinating, certainly, but it was also unnerving. Not scary, just strange. Unusual. Unnatural. But, then again, they were dead. There hadn’t been anything natural about them since their hearts stopped beating. “Darling, if I indulged like this all the time, we wouldn’t have a town left. I prefer to keep my meals light.” Two people in a matter of minutes was quite the loss of life, even if Miriam was certain the one would have died from the cold. The other was just a casualty of every awful thing that had been growing inside of Miriam unchecked for some time now, she’d need to be more careful. She wiped her hands off on her pants, now free of blood and viscera. “My friends call me Mim, though Miri is fine as well. I own the leather shop in town,” Miriam said, a smile on her lips. “What should I call you, oh mighty finder of finger foods?”

Eilidh’s breath rushed out her nose in a near snort. “Only if you’re picky. Find deer to be just as satisfying. Gives a better chase.” And lacked that sense of… She did not want to place a name. To those emotions that tried to surface at times of feeding. A tainting born from James’ pleasantries. It had been easier in the times before. And when she found herself with those like Mim, twins of that primal nature, some of that ease could be found. Of course, judgement had been placed on her, from that kindred companion. But now, with no sense to hide the parts society deemed too dark and twisted, she only saw a fascination from the other woman. She smiled, revealing a bit of discolored skin lodged between incisors. It grew a smidgen wider, at that fun nickname. Made her consider ripping off a dead finger and chomping down in reinforcement. “Dia dhuit, Mim.” She let out a gentle chuckle. “Guess this means we’re friends. Mine call me many things. Call me Ellie.” Sirens tore her attentions. She saw more swirls of blue and red bouncing off distant walls, but creeping ever closer. As did those shrieking sounds—building on each other into a single blasting. Arm securing her haul grew tighter. Squeezing out those last drops of blood it had managed to hold drizzling down her shoulder. “Better scamper. ‘Till the next.” And she disappeared into the trees. 

[usermischief]

and the fault (is my own)

htgawm au - part 5

———— 

“Did you know that the Texas Chainsaw Massacre is based on a true story?”

Theo hums in acknowledgment, pressing small kisses to the side of his neck while Stiles is trying to choose something to watch. It’s doubtful that they’re going to manage and watch a movie this time, considering how spectacularly they’ve failed in the past two weeks. Theo can’t keep his hands to himself. Every single time, they met, they ended up having sex. Which makes sense. They’re in the beginning stages of what’s probably a relationship. At least, Theo is great at sex, which didn’t really come as a huge surprise. However, Stiles would like to spend a normal date with Theo. One that doesn’t end in sex. Just to make sure that they’re on the same page. 

“Well, I mean it’s not really based on a true story. But the killer is inspired by Ed Gein.” Stiles scratches the side of his nose, trying his hardest to ignore Theo’s mouth on his neck, his hands on his lower back, and fingertips inching their way into his sweatpants. “So… there’s actually no truth to it. Then again, if you consider that Gein wore masks and Leatherface does too. Maybe it is based on a true story after all. I wonder how much truth— stop laughing. Why are you laughing?”

Theo tries to stifle his laughter, but he fails miserably. Not that it stops him from kissing his neck. Well, to be fair, Stiles could’ve just grabbed his laptop instead of sitting on Theo’s lap. But it’s hard to resist him completely. Especially when he’s smirking at him in his very Theo way. It’s pure sex, and it’s fucking rude that the guy has so much power over him even when Stiles isn’t really in the mood. 

Theo parts his lips, sucking skin between his teeth. 

With a quiet groan, Stiles closes his eyes and tips his head to the side, offering Theo more room. It doesn’t take much more for him to grab Stiles by his thighs and get to his feet. Although he usually makes a point of being extremely annoyed by the werewolves’ blatant display of strength, Stiles cannot deny that it’s hot as hell — especially when Theo uses it for sexy times. It’s hard to complain when he does that. Still, after this, they probably should have a conversation about their relationship. Stiles would enjoy their sexy times a lot more if he knew what’s going on between them. 

Just as Stiles hooks his fingers around Theo’s belt, someone opens the door rather noisily. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Donovan slams the door shut hard enough that everyone on their floor knows exactly what type of mood he’s in. “Can’t you go fuck your callboy at his house?” 

Clearing his throat, Stiles pushes Theo off him immediately. The look of disapproval doesn’t go unnoticed, but Stiles ignores it for now. This isn’t the time for an explanation. Not that Theo needs an explanation. Like ever. Donovan is just a bit complicated. And angry. He’s usually angry. How he’s still on the football team is a mystery to Stiles. Coach would’ve kicked someone with that type of anger issues off the team without batting an eyelash. But Donovan always manages to get around serious punishment. 

For now, at least. 

“Sorry.” Stiles pulls his blanket towards him. It’s not going to do much against Donovan, but it offers him at least a little bit of comfort. 

Theo squares his shoulders. “Chill out, Donati.”

“Oh, piss off, Captain,” Donovan spits, throwing his backpack across the room. It bangs against his desk. 

Stiles pulls his legs to his chest, trying to relax his shoulders when Theo shoots him another look. “Didn’t you say you’re not coming home tonight?” He could’ve sworn Donovan mentioned something. And besides, it’s Friday. Donovan is never home on a Friday evening. He usually spends his time getting wasted with his gang. 

“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?” Donovan scrutinizes Stiles’ side of the room, curling his lips into a clearly disapproving line. “Fucking clean up for once in your life, will you?” 

Before Stiles can open his mouth, Theo has jumped to his feet, curling his hands into tight fists. “Watch it, buddy.” 

“I’m not your buddy, Cap, and I suggest you fuck off before it gets ugly.” Donovan might be taller than Theo, but he’s most definitely no match for him. Still, as much as Stiles would like Theo to give Donovan the beating he deserves, that would come back and bite him in the ass after all. 

Stiles scrambles off the bed and grabs Theo’s wrist. “Let’s go somewhere else.” It’s not like him to tug tail and run, but living with Donovan is already bad, he doesn’t have to make it worse. 

“He can’t just throw me out.” Theo narrows his eyes, gaze roaming over his face. “This is your room as well.” 

Donovan scoffs. “Oh, don’t worry. After he’s put his dick in you or… whatever, he’ll throw you out.” With a smirk that’s so much more unpleasant than Theo’s, Donovan folds his arms over his chest. “You’re not the first.” 

Stiles can feel Theo’s pulse quicken underneath his fingertips. Donovan might be angry all the time, but Theo is very easy to piss off. It doesn’t take more than a single wrong word for him to lose his composure. Seems like Stiles has a knack for finding guys with anger issues. “Theo—”

“Things are a bit different now,” Theo says in a low voice. 

Donovan snorts out a laugh. “I’m sure Heather thought the same thing when she appeared here a week ago.” That’s— Donovan never mentioned anything. Why did he never tell him that Heather has been here? “Don’t get your hopes up, Raeken. Stiles fucks whoever is nice to him.” 

Stiles feels heat rush into his cheeks, and he turns away, busying himself with looking for his backpack. His eyes start to burn. All he wants is to hide under the covers, to hide away from Donovan’s gaze drilling into his back. He needs to get out of this room. Now. “Let’s just go,” he says quietly, pushing a few fresh clothes in his backpack. He’s aware that Theo notices the change in his heartbeat, knows he takes note of every single chemo signal. And he wishes he wouldn’t. Because while Theo isn’t usually that involved in other people’s lives, he’s almost a bit too much invested in Stiles’ — and this won’t be something he’ll let slide. 

“What’s going on?” Theo reaches for his hand, but Stiles pulls away. This room has gotten way too small all of the sudden. It always seems too small when Donovan is here. Luckily, he’s hardly ever around. It didn’t use to be that way. There was a time when they were getting along. But that’s in the past. A lot of Stiles’ relationships ended in the past. He’s not very good at maintaining them, it seems. Well, Lydia is still with him, so he can’t be completely terrible at it.

This relationship, however, needs to be over rather sooner than later. Stiles shoves his laptop into his backpack then lifts his notebooks. His phone. He turns around, surveying the room. Where’s his phone? He’s seen it not too long ago. If he weren’t so fucking messy—

“Hey,” Theo says, grabbing his upper arm, “what is going on?” 

“Yes, Stiles, what’s going on?” Donovan sneers, sitting down on the edge of his desk.

Stiles swallows around the lump in his throat. “I just want to leave,” he whispers, locking eyes with Theo. “Please, let’s just go.” 

  ————

  “Let’s go,” Malia says, snatching her ring from Stiles’ fingers. “Let’s leave now.” 

“And then what?” Theo asks, pulling Stiles close to him, grip tight around his arm. “Let someone else find him?” Him. The body. A body. His body. They killed him. He killed him. He’s actually dead. 

Calm down.

Lydia shakes her head vigorously, causing her red curls to fly back and forth. “We can’t just leave.” 

“Let’s call the police,” Scott says, looking exactly as sick as Stiles feels. “They need to know there was a murder.” 

“Murder?” Theo snaps. “It was self-defense.”

Lydia purses her lips. She doesn’t need to say it out loud. This wasn’t self-defense. Not really. Not in the way Theo is thinking, but Theo knows the full story. Theo knows what happened. Because Stiles told him. Stiles trusts him. But in the end, It doesn’t matter. He killed someone, and his defense might not hold up in court. Why didn’t he call the police? Why didn’t he ask for help? Why didn’t he go somewhere else for the time being? People don’t like street justice when there are other ways he could’ve solved this problem. He’d end up in jail. They all end up in jail if they’re staying here.

Stiles can’t let that happen. They need a plan. They need to do something. They can’t just leave him here. If somebody finds his body… if someone— Stiles suck in a breath, tries to, at least. But his chest constricts, and his throat is as raw as if he screamed for an hour. Maybe he did. Stiles doesn’t really remember. Everything happened so fast. He sucks in a breath. This time, it’s easier. “We have to get rid of the body.” And they have to do it fast. 

Theo wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close, and kisses his temple. If he had the chance, Stiles would hide in this embrace and until everything is dealt with. But he can’t. Not now.  

Scott gestures vaguely in the direction of the body on the floor. “You killed someone. We can’t get rid of the body. He’s—”

“Lost his right to live the second he touched Stiles,” Theo cuts him short. 

“It wasn’t self-defense,” Lydia whispers. 

Stiles curls and uncurls his fingers. “It’s justifiable homicide.” He doesn’t know who he’s trying to convince. The body at their feet is telling a different story. The knife, now cleaned and put back where it came from, tells a different story. Fucking hell. Stiles swallows heavily. They already got rid of the murder weapon. They’ve cleaned up the worst. 

This isn’t self-defense.

This is premeditated murder, and he’s not going to let his friends take the fall for what he did. He’s going to find a way to get them out of this.  

Lydia bites her bottom lip, eyes darting over Stiles’ face. He can tell the exact moment her resolve hardens. “Okay.” She nods, more to convince herself than anybody else. “What do we do?”

Scott runs his fingers through his hair. 

Malia keeps looking from Stiles to the body and back again.

That’s a good question. How do they get rid of the body? How do they fix this? They can’t. They cannot fix this. Stiles presses his hands to his face and sucks in a breath, focusing on Theo’s arm around his shoulders as best as he can. He can’t lose it now. All he has to do is remember that Theo is his saving grace.

“Guys, we have to—”

“Shut the fuck up, McCall!” Theo snarls, his grip around Stiles’ shoulders tightening protectively. “Nobody is going to call the police, do you understand?” 

Stiles rubs his eyes, pointedly ignoring the body. Instead, he focuses on Malia twisting her ring back and forth on her middle finger. He blinks. The ring. Stiles widens his eyes. Jewelry. Oh. “Robbery,” he says, turning to look at Theo again. “We could make it look like a robbery. Drop him… the body…” he trails off.

But Theo already understood what Stiles is going for. “You’re right,” Theo says, curling his fingers gently around his jaw. “The nearby forest is a good place for that. Shit’s always going down there.”

“Before we leave,” Lydia says, gesturing around the room, “we have to make sure this room is clean. We’ve never been here.” 

Theo kisses the corner of his mouth. “You’re going to be fine, you hear me?”

Stiles nods.

[whereshiphappens]

Hi!! From the prompt list, If you want to (obviously), Could you do Steo, number 2 or 52? ☺️

Steo (teen wolf)  +  2. “They may not understand you, but I do.”   +  52. “Why don’t you tell me why you really came here tonight?”  

Canon Universe, with canon divergence, set somewhere in 5x11, after the sheriff is hurt, before they figure out who hurt him.

~1,540 words

A/N: Hi darling!!!! oh you were so nice asking i decided to do both :D thank you so much for this, i love steo to death, i cant get enough of writing them. i also love angst cannot help myself, hope you don’t mind, and i hope you like it!!! sorry about mistakes it is very much not proof read sorry. and thank you!! xx

ps- if ever anyone wants to ask specifically for happy/fluffy things or sad/angsty feel free to include that in the ask with the prompt i don’t mind at all!

-

-

Stiles can feel his heart beating in his throat. He’s moving, but his brain isn’t making any conscious decision to put one foot in front of the other. His phone is clutched on his hand and he’s repeating the directions he read to keep his brain busy.

There’s so much gibberish, there’s always so much noise it’s almost fucking impossible to not feel like he’s drowning in his own thoughts, so he keeps repeating the directions and his feet follow. 

In the end he doesn’t know how he got through the maze of tunnels and exactly to the right place, but he stops at a badly lit rusty looking room and he knows he’s in the right spot.

“I’m surprised you reached out,” comes Theo’s voice, and he appears just on the other side of whatever this place is supposed to be. Stiles’ eyes are on him immediately. He doesn’t answer, works so very hard on trying to control his breathing and calm his heart.

Theo’s words from last night (was it really only just last night?) echo inside his skull and he knows Theo can hear the jump his heart gives.

“Does this mean you’re joining my pack?” he finishes, with a smirk - he doesn’t really think that’s the reason Stiles is here, he can see it on Theo’s face. He’s just toying around with him. And he knows Scott is fine.

Stiles tries to not let the anger take over.

“You didn’t hurt my dad,” he says instead. It gets Theo’s attention, his eyes focusing on Stiles intently. 

“I told you that before, didn’t I?” Theo answers, narrows his eyes ever so slightly and starts pacing slowing circling closer to Stiles. Stiles can feel what’s left of his sanity slipping away from him.

“But you know who did,” he states. It’s not a question - Theo has to know. And Stiles needs to know as well. His hands are shaking.

Theo inclines his head just a touch, stops to look at Stiles properly, “I don’t.” He says. It makes something snap inside of Stiles, it makes all that anger curse through his veins, comes out in the form of a scream and a violent kick to the door just next to him - strong enough to crook it's already not very sturdy form.

“Stop fucking lying to me!” Stiles yells at him, hands closed into fists, his whole body shaking. He feels like he’s going to rip out of his own skin, eyes watering keeping him from seeing the way Theo strides towards him.

“I never lied to you,” Theo tells him, calm and collected - a perfect contrast to the absolute raging fire that Stiles feels like.

Without thinking, Stiles’ hands come up to grab Theo by the collar in a movement very familiar, except this time around, neither of them moves. Theo’s chin comes up and the stay calm and still as Stiles yanks at him.

“Who hurt my dad, Theo?” Stiles repeats and his voice gets away from him, slipping through his fingers just as the grips Theo’s shirt tighter. The control Stiles is fighting so hard to keep feels too slippery and he doesn’t have directions to repeat in his head anymore so his brain gets flooded with every single intrusive horrible thought that he’s been keeping away in order to function because. 

What if Theo is telling the truth? What if he doesn’t know and he’s back to zero and his dad is running out of time and he has no way of helping him and-

Every breath he takes is painful, the white noise in this ears grows louder and louder with his horrible thoughts and his vision is getting blurred with tears that he can’t fight. He’s shaking all over and he’s not sure if he keeps gripping Theo’s shirt to hold him in place, or keep himself from losing balance.

Theo’s hands come up to grip both his arms, “Stiles,” he calls, controlled, “look at me,” he asks. Stiles can barely register what he’s saying but somehow he manages to, tears falling down, lips parted as he tries to just fucking breathe!

“Easy,” Theo instructs in a quiet voice, keeping eye contact with him, tightening his grip on Stiles’ arms, gets him to stop shaking so much. “You need to focus.”

Focus. Yeah, Stiles knows that. He needs to reel himself back in, he needs to keep breathing or he won’t be any fucking help.

It takes him a couple minutes, in which Theo does nothing but observe him. When Stiles reaches back towards the wall, Theo walks him back and doesn’t let go of his arms. Stiles would be lying if he said the weight of them aren’t helping him anchor himself.

Theo keeps watching his face, squints a little like he’s seeing something else, beyond the drying tears and beyond the panic and fear and anger.

After a while, he speaks, “if I knew who it was that hurt your dad - which I don’t… what then? What will you do, after you save him?”

Somehow, Stiles knows exactly what Theo is asking. And he also knows that Theo knows the answer to it. He wipes away at the rest of his tears and a blank expression takes over his features and an automatic answer ready.

“We’ll lock them away and keep them from hurting anyone else-,” Stiles deadpans and Theo scoffs, rolls his eyes as he lets go of Stiles, takes a step back finally giving him his space. Stiles lets himself slide down the wall to sit on the floor.

“Cut the crap, Stiles, it’s just the two of us here,” Theo says, his voice rising just a little bit as he focuses back on Stiles. “What’s this ‘we’ bullshit? That’s Scott’s solution to everything, because he’s just too afraid of compromising his own conscience in order to do what needs to be done. But you’re different.”

Stiles stays quiet, locks eyes with Theo and feels his heart fasten again, “You know that there’s no other way, sometimes. Just like with Josh. Just like with Donovan.”

The worst thing is, he’s right, Stiles thinks. He brings his hands over to cover his face, rubs at his eyes and feels for a moment the exhaustion he isn’t allowed to, not just now. 

When did he stop agreeing with the good guys and thinking like the bad ones?

Theo crouches down to Stiles’ eye level, takes his wrist and pulls his hand away to look at him.“ Your friends,” Stiles wants to laugh at the way he spits the word, although there’s no humour in it, ”they may not understand you, but I do.” Theo’s voice goes quieter.

“I think you’re smarter than every single one of them. And that makes you more complex, and that makes you not think in black and white.” When Stiles makes to look away, with a scowl at Theo’s words, Theo pulls at his wrist to get his attention back. “I know you know I’m right. I know you know what you really need to do to stop all of this fucking mess, and I know you know Scott isn’t going to help you fix anything, just as you already knew I didn’t know who hurt your dad, but you came to me anyway.”

Stiles breathing picks up as he stares back into Theo’s cold, intense eyes, “So why don’t you cut the crap? Why don’t you tell me why you really came here tonight? Why you came to me?”

“Because I’m going to fucking kill them!” Stiles blurts out, presses forward until he’s up on Theo’s face. “Because I need help, and because the only thing Scott will do is hold me back. But you won’t.”

Theo can’t help the grin that spreads over his face, his breath hitting Stiles’ chin softly as he nods, “That’s right,” Theo’s voice suddenly drops quieter, eyes roam all over Stiles’ face and the change in the atmosphere around them is palpable, makes Stiles’ heart jump and something uncomfortable brew at the pit of his stomach. His breathing hitches as Theo’s free hand comes up to the side of his face, fingers ghosting his skin, “That’s right, Stiles.” 

Theo gets closer, and Stiles understands him, suddenly. With a bit of a shock, but then again, not really. “I will never hold you back,” Theo whispers.

Stiles parts his lips. He’s the one that moves, but his brain doesn’t quite register, feeling too high and too raw from the rollercoaster of emotions he’s just been through. 

The noise that Theo makes when Stiles kisses him goes straight to the pit of his stomach and ignites that uncomfortable feeling, makes it a hot electric fire that blinds his mind and makes his body move without his permission. He opens his mouth and Theo’s tongue is already waiting for him. Their lips move like they’ve done this before and it’s fucking crazy.

Stiles stops, draws back breathless and looks at Theo. His eyes are wild and he dives back again, kisses him once, twice with Stiles’ hand on his neck holding him close. 

He makes to move, but before, with his lips pressed against Stiles whispers “let’s go hunt, shall we?”

[beyondconfessor]

Principle Decisions [6/24]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Lilith/Zelda Spellman

Summary: She had engaged in dominatrix services from Sabrina’s principal. It was enough to make her light-headed.

N.B.: Also posted on AO3. This is pure fantasy, please suspend your disbelief.

“Zelda,” Faustus said, walking into her office. He entered as if he owned the place, not caring that this was her office and she was in the middle of a discussion with Elspeth about her recent failure in an essay that weighted thirty percentage of the semester’s grade.

“Yes, Professor Blackwood?” she said, smiling sharply as she looked away from Elspeth.

“Unfortunately, Shirley won’t be returning as we expected. She’s requested further time off. I’ll need you to look after her classes until she returns.”

It’d been a month, and Zelda was already thin on time and stressed as it was, trying to manage lesson planning for all of her classes and Shirley’s religious second-year subjects on top of that was more than she wanted. Prudence had been a much-needed help, but there were things she couldn’t leave with her.

Her academic paper was well behind schedule she’d set out. She was barely seeing her family outside of dinner. As it was, she barely managed to get in six hours of sleep most nights. She’d counted on finishing those two subjects in two weeks.

“I’ll require further funding for my TA,” she said. “But that’s no issue Faustus.”

“Of course,” he agreed with a nod, and then seemed to notice that someone else was present in the room. Providing a polite nod, he went to leave before pausing. “Thank you, Zelda.”

Zelda bit her tongue, feeling annoyance flush through her. She turned and looked at Elspeth, finding the girl’s eyes wide open, as if she just witnessed something she shouldn’t have.

“Where were we?” Zelda asked, honestly failing to remember what point she’d been discussing.

“Extra credit,” Elsbeth said, “So I don’t lose my scholarship.”

Zelda nodded and flicked through Elspeth’s marks. It was only the most recent essay that dragged down her overall grade, having a heavy weighting on it. “It was a rushed essay. I can give you the chance to re-write it if you feel you can bring something better to it?”

Elspeth drew in a breath, sitting up taller in the chair. It wasn’t the response she wanted. Clearly, the girl had expected something else been asked of her.

“I can do that. When do you want it handed in by?”

“Two weeks.”

Elspeth agreed, standing up and leaving. Zelda drew a sigh and watched as she left. She’d probably been lenient with the deadline and should have cut it down to a week, but the truth was that she was too exhausted to care. She was completing twice the amount of unpaid overtime than usual just to keep her classes at a certain standard and had been pressing to ensure she attended Sabrina’s extracurricular that popped-up, given that she couldn’t even fit in time to take Sabrina to and from school most days.

She considered pulling away from dinner and just eating in her office to get an extra hour of work, but Hilda would never allow. It was the one thing that she and her sister had agreed on the way back when Ambrose was barely twelve years old, and Sabrina was learning to walk. A family sat together, no matter what.

The truth was the only place she could afford to cut, was her sleep schedule. But the tension was building up inside of her. With so little time for herself, she was going to snap if she didn’t do something soon to ease it.

She just needed an hour or two.

Zelda picked up the phone and rang from her personal phone.

“Zelda,” Lilith purred like they were old friends. “I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

“I’ve been busy,” Zelda said, “Do you have an appointment for this week?”

“Hmm, let me see,” there was the sound of shuffling, and then a quiet pulled on the phone. Zelda drew in a breath, trying to ease her beating heart. A part of her hoped that she had an appointment for this afternoon. “How long were you looking for?”

Zelda’s tongue grew heavy. She flicked open her planner, looking through her availabilities. “What do you have available?” she asked as if they were trying to pencil in a business meeting.

“Saturday morning, you can have me from nine until twelve.”

Zelda’s eyes fluttered shut at the choice of words. You can have me. Oh, she would very much so enjoy having her.

“Three hours?”

“How about we say from nine until eleven, and I promise not to watch the clock,” Lilith said. “I quite like the idea of you in my garden,” Lilith said. “But there are many things we could play with.”

“And just what were thinking that I would enjoy in your garden?” Zelda inquired, trying to hold onto some semblance of control. After all, the woman was becoming entirely too presumptuous.

“We’ll discuss once you’re here. But don’t get me wrong, I would very much so enjoy hearing any ideas from yourself.”

Zelda shivered. “I’ll see you Saturday,” she said, clicking off the phone.

It was something to look forward to, and yet Zelda found herself going from meeting to meeting, class to office time (which was always busy midway through the semester when students started to realise that unless they did something soon, they wouldn’t make the marks they needed). She came home, she ate and then she returned to her home office for lesson planning until late at night, where she would drag herself to bed for a few hours.

Twice, Hilda had commented on how tired she was, enquiring if she was eating enough, and twice Zelda had snapped back that she was perfectly fine and had only just recently seen her doctor.

Hilda had shrunk away at the comment, embarrassed at the breakfast table as Zelda drank her tea, trying to ease the growing headache behind her eyes. There was a test for this afternoon, that would give her a better idea on if she needed to re-evaluate her lessons for them––and yet for the life of her, she wanted to call in sick.

“Aunt Zee?” Sabrina inquired softly. “Can I ask you something?”

She looked up, setting the cup down and tried to ease the headache she felt.

“Theo’s having trouble with some of the other boys on the team. They’re not letting him use their locker. I’ve tried talking to Coach Craven, but he doesn’t care since Wardwell told him off––and I’m worried that if I do go above him to Principal Wardwell again, he’ll just let things get worse.”

Zelda paused, drinking in the words to the context. “I can speak to their parents if that’s what you want,”

“No, I think that will make it worse.”

Zelda agreed, but she still wouldn’t mind wringing through the children’s parents. Not that it was her place, in the end, it should be Theo’s father (and yet that, still, could make things worse). “Honestly Sabrina, there’s very little things you can do with a bully like that. It may be in Theo’s best interest to quit the team.”

“But he wants to be apart of that!” Sabrina said. “It’s not fair that they just take away his enjoyment of such a thing.”

“It’s not,” Zelda agreed. “But there are some fights that you’ll need to walk away from, that is, unfortunately, how the world works. It’s not worth Theo’s unhappiness if he’s been pushed out by his peers. If anything, I would suggest perhaps finding a different sporting group who’s more open to having diversity in their team than high school.”

Sabrina frowned, sinking in her chair, “But none exists.”

“Then perhaps there’s your idea, start a new one. I doubt Theo’s the only one who feels that way.”

“No! Then they get what they want.”

Zelda sighed, “Yes, they do,” she agreed. “And it’s not fair, and it’s not right, and I’m sorry, really. If we could wave a wand and teach them all a lesson, I’m sure we would. Realistically speaking, to avoid Theo facing further punishment, it might be in his best interest to leave. Not all fights are worth battling. Sometimes it’s about walking away and creating your own happiness.”

Sabrina’s face twisted, conflict crossing over her face.  “I mean, is that what you did?”

Zelda frowned. “Pardon?”

“Aunt Hilda mentioned that things were hard for you when you were starting at Greendale University. That the others––“

“Your Aunt Hilda is going off gossip. No, it was entirely different; I wasn’t being berated the way young Theo was. Just some minor office gossip, and nothing I couldn’t rise above.”

Sabrina frowned. “Maybe I should just speak to Principle Wardwell.”

“You could,” Zelda agreed, “And then she’ll speak to the coach, and then…what? I don’t mean to detract you from this goal. It’s admirable. But perhaps you should think about what’s actually fair for Theo rather than seeking justice.”

Sabrina made a face, her nose wrinkling. “It is about Theo. He’s getting bullied by these…these…dicks,” Sabrina said, spitting the word.

Zelda blinked and watched as Sabrina continued to sit tall in the seat, chin lifted defiantly. No matter what Zelda had to say, she knew Sabrina would go against it. Her niece had apparently already decided as to what she was going to do.

“Speak to Theo,” Zelda urged. “Maybe speak to his Coach yourself. But actually, look towards what the repercussions are likely to be. I’m sure the last thing you want to do is make life even more difficult for your friend.”

“I won’t,” Sabrina said. “I just want him to be happy.”

“And that’s not a bad thing to want,” Zelda assured. “But be sure that this is really about Theo’s interest and not just to serve your own hero complex.”

“Hero complex?” Sabrina echoed. “Is that what you think this about?”

It was, but Zelda didn’t particularly want that argument so ignored the bait, and left a quiet to settle between them and with it, as she began to feel her migraine increase. What she needed was to lie down in a dark room with a damp towel across her head. As it was, she couldn’t. “Do you need me to drop you off at school?”

“Or what, you think my hero complex will have me try and rescue a cat out some tree I pass?”

Zelda sighed, staring at her. “Do you want me to drive you or not?”

“I can walk to Harvey’s and see if he’ll take me.”

There was a strange way she said those words that had Zelda narrowing her eyes. “Has something happened between you and Mr Kinkle?”

Sabrina shook her head before biting her lip. “I don’t know,” she admitted before she smiled and looked up at Zelda, an otherwise perfectly happy expression on her face. “It’s fine,” she assured. “I think he’s just busy. He and his dad are fighting,” she shrugged.

Zelda nodded. Despite never seeing the senior Kinkle drunk himself, Zelda was familiar with Sabrina’s stories of how Harvey felt about it all. Once, Sabrina had begged to have Harvey move in with them, and although Zelda wasn’t against the idea, especially if a child was being harmed, the practice of it was trickier than theory.

Still, there was the older sibling in the household, and as Zelda understood it, he often cooled the clashes between the family.

“I’ll drop you off. I’ll be ready to leave in five minutes,” Zelda advised, looking to the clock upon the wall. It was enough time for her to finish her tea and grab her bag from her office.

She’d spent most of the last night finalising her lesson plan for Shirley’s class, and this morning, she felt a tightness in her neck, likely adding to the growing migraine she had. Before she finished her last mouthful of tea, she dug around for her painkillers and took the familiar dosage.

“Ready!” Sabrina said, just as she managed to set her cup in the sink.

Zelda made a gesture for her to go to the car, as she picked up her bag from her office, taking her computer and day planner with her. She checked for keys and her wallet and then paused, noticing that her computer’s light wasn’t on.

Opening it up, she watched the screen flick on…and then turn off completely.

Zelda took the charger, plugging it in and watched as, again, the computer’s screen flickered.

Panic welled up in her chest. It’d worked perfectly fine last night. The last thing she needed was for it to seize––all of her work was in it, including her lesson planning. And yes, although she did have it backed up, it was all on the cloud and inaccessible to her from any of the school’s computers. She would have to use her phone.

Zelda took a breath, taking the laptop and shoving it into her bag. There was every chance that the charger was the issue, and she just needed to obtain a new one.

“Aunt Zee?” Sabrina called from the hallway, and Zelda squeezed her eyes shut. There was a computer shop in town. She could duck in, confirm if there was a problem, and then return to pick it up if need be.

Shutting her office door, Zelda’s heels clicked loudly on the floors as her frustration seemed to be growing to a boiling point.

Sabrina shifted as she saw her, adjusting the bag on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she clipped back. “Get in the car before we’re late.”

Sabrina’s eyes widened, but she seemed to have enough decency to realise that it was the time, and climbed into the car.

Zelda drove to the school, pulling into the parking lot, and watched as Sabrina climbed out quickly before running off, wishing a brief “have a good day!” though seemingly somewhat avoidant of dealing with her bad mood any further.

Not that Zelda could blame her.

She was just pulling out of the parking lot when she noticed a familiar car pull in, Lilith at the wheel. Zelda blinked, watching the car pass before she could so much as absorb the situation.

Briefly, she wondered why the woman was attending the school––before remembering their conversation at the game the other week. Zelda wondered if the woman was a mother to one of the children bullying poor Theo––if she was, Zelda was going to have strong words with her about using her so-called discipline to better use and actually parenting her son.

Putting the thoughts away, she drove to the computer shop and walked in just as the sign on the front door was switched to open.

The retail assistant’s mouth opened, going to babble out a polite welcome or whatever as she pulled out her laptop and placed it on the counter. “My computer’s screen went black, and I need it to be fixed before my classes start.”

“O-of course,” he said, taking the computer in his grip. He looked over it, checking for something before he plugged it in.

The charger’s light flicked on, confirming that was working before he pulled open the screen. Zelda watched as again. The screen flickered before turning black.

“Ah,” he said. “It could be a screen issue, but…have you visited any new websites recently? No judgement of course, but if you downloaded new software from online, or clicked on any…ads, or…anything like that?” he asked, looking at her awkwardly.

Zelda’s jaw tightened, under usual circumstances she’d be able to tightly respond with no. Still, the truth was, she had been doing some minor extracurricular website searches to understand some of the services Lilith had (because they used slang she was unfamiliar with), and there was every possibility that one of them might have downloaded something.

“Could you fix the issue?” she asked instead.

“Oh, definitely,” he agreed. “It might wipe your hard drive though, if-if it was…that.”

Zelda exhaled a deep breath. Her lesson plan was fine, but she would lose a lot of resources she was using for her paper, and it’d be difficult for her to retrieve them again. “If you could avoid that, I would prefer it,” she said.

The man nodded, typing on the screen. “I can have it back by Monday. I’ll try and see if it’s a screen issue first.”

“Monday?” she asked tightly, before nodding, “Monday’s fine,” she agreed. She’d just have to live off her phone until such a time.

“Let me just grab your contact details.”

Zelda provided them tightly as she dug out her phone and clicked through, pulling out the information from her lesson plans. She was going to be late, but that would just have to be something she dealt with.

As it was, she managed to make in time and was able to deliver her lesson without drawing to her phone too much. She was, however, late to her office hours due to trying to get a spare laptop from the library, which was being looked after by a grad student who didn’t know how to loan out the spare laptops.

By the time she arrived, one of her students was sitting on the ground by her door and fumbling to stand-up awkwardly. “Professor Spellman!” he said. “I need an extension for the essay due next week.”

Zelda pulled out her keys, clicking the door open. “Which essay is this for?” she inquired, pushing the door open and clicking the lights on. Her headache was growing as she set down her bag and set the laptop up, opening before she noticed a low battery warning.

Of course, the student had forgotten to provide a charger. She closed the lid and looked up at the student, watching as he nervously took a seat before her and began twisting at his clothes.

“Ah—well, it’s…technically…P-professor Jackson’s…class. And she’s usually fine with giving extensions, so as long as…”

Zelda’s brows rose. “So as long as…?” she prompted.

“Ah…can I have an extension. Please? I have an exam on the same day and I just…really need…”

Zelda sat back in her seat. “Did Professor Jackson go over her timetable for when assignments were due?”

“Yes?”

“So you were aware of both your essay and exam being on the same day since your first week of classes?”

“I mean, tech-technically, yes, but I didn’t actually realise until…until this week,” she admitted.

“Melvin, isn’t it?”

“Yes, professor.”

“Melvin, I suggest that you go over your schedule for the rest of the semester. The answer is no; I will not be granting an extension. You’ve had all semester to plan for this.”

“But Elspeth––“ and then he stopped himself, seeming to realise he said too much. Zelda’s brows rose, waiting to see if he would continue, but thankfully Melvin just stuttered out a muttered apology, before he scrambled at his bag and left, leaving her alone in her office with a dying laptop.

She clicked the power save button and stared at it. It wasn’t like she could easily download her lessons and transfer it across anyway, they were two different systems (and it was one of the few times she regretted not using the school’s standard provided laptops to do all of her work).

She sunk in her seat, pulling open her drawer to pull out the Advil packaging, only to find that it wasn’t there.

No, because she’d used it all up and the only container she had was the one at home.

Of course. Of course, it was because the day couldn’t get any worse.

Except it did, because just as she was about to take lunch, her phone rang.

“Ms Spellman?” the woman on the line enquired.

“Yes, who’s speaking?”

“This is Mrs Meeks, I���m calling from Baxter High.” Zelda’s stomach sunk. “Your niece got into a fight this morning. Principal Wardwell has requested if you could come into the office to discuss her behaviour? Usually, we’d speak to Hilda, but I’m afraid her phone’s been switched off.”

Of course, it was because her sister was working today. Though it certainly raised the question as to why Hilda was first on the list when she should have been. But that wasn’t the concern now.

Zelda’s eyes squeezed shut. Sabrina got into a fight, and Zelda knew exactly what the reasoning of the fight was.

“I’ll be right in,” she said.

Clicking her phone off, she looked across her time table. She had lunch, and then two hours after that before her next class. It meant she was shutting her office hours prematurely shut, but she wrote on the whiteboard of the door, advising that she would be available through email or in the following week, adding that if it was urgent, to reach out to Professor Blackwood.

Bad things came in threes, her mother used to say, and Zelda hoped that this was the last of her bad luck.

In the drive over to the school, she considered calling up Hilda and asking her to deal with it. Still, the truth was, Hilda would be a push-over and agreed that Sabrina warranted some kind of punishment when Zelda knew perfectly well that Sabrina was likely only protecting her friend and did not require any form of punishment.

Parking in a teacher’s spot (it wasn’t like they could do anything about it), she locked the car and walked to the front office, before getting directions to the Principal’s office.

There, she saw the strange, blonde woman on the phone, and then Sabrina, Theo, Harvey and Roz, all sitting on the bench with their heads bowed and bruises forming across their faces and knuckles. To the other side was a half-dozen boys Zelda didn't recognise sitting on the other side of the room.

Zelda looked across them all, brows raised. As Sabrina and her friends all began speaking at once, she rose her hand, silencing them. “Have your parents been called?” she asked, looking to the other children.

“Yes,” Roz answered, “They’re with Principal Wardwell now. Except…for Harvey’s dad, since Mr Kinkle was in the mines.”

Zelda looked to him and then to Mrs Meeks. “Am I right to enter?”

“Oh yes, should be fine,” she nodded.

Zelda swept a look over them, giving a small nod to Sabrina to let her know that she didn’t disapprove of whatever happened, but they would certainly talk later about it.

Pushing open the door, she came into a room filled with six other parents, recognising Sabrina’s friend’s parents, she gave a small nod and went to shut the door before her eyes fell onto the principal.

And then she nearly fainted. They both stared at each other, a tightness rolling over the room before Lilith’s face brokered into a mask.

“Ms Spellman, I take it?” Lilith asked, tilting her head. “I thought we requested your sister?”

“She’s occupied,” Zelda said, grounding herself as she closed the door.

“Well, we were just concluding this matter,” Lilith said, hands folded neatly before her and Zelda felt her stomach flip. The principal.

She had engaged in dominatrix services from Sabrina’s principal. It was enough to make her light-headed.

“And just what would that be?” she asked, standing in the doorway, afraid that if she took a step, she’d wobble on her heels.

Her principal!

Lilith’s eyes roamed across the room. “Suspension, I believe. Across all parties for next week. Baxter High has a zero-tolerance after all.”

“Ridiculous,” Zelda counted. “Whatever Sabrina’s reasonings were, I’m sure they were warranted.”

An argument arose, and Lilith pushed up on to her feet, a sharp grip on her face enough to silence the room with commanded respect. “Ms Spellman,” she clipped, before gesturing to the seat before her. “How about you take a seat and we’ll discuss what occurred. No need for anyone else to be held up any further by this.”

Zelda rolled her shoulders back and stepped over to the empty seat before her, but refrained from sitting. Lilith’s eyes held hers, and there was a beat as tension seemed to hold between them, and Zelda wondered, briefly, if she was going to say something to her.

She didn’t. Instead, Lilith walked around her desk and seemed to direct the parents out of the room. There was a moment where she spoke to Mrs Meeks, asking her to direct the students back to class, before she stepped back in the room, shutting the door behind her.

“Sit down,” Lilith said, and Zelda felt her knees bend, a part of her wanting to obey before she resisted and glared at the woman.

“You’re a principal?” she hissed.

Lilith’s eyes fluttered innocently, “In fairness, I hadn’t put two and two together until I saw you at the football match the other weekend. And at that point, I thought you had worked out the truth as well. Hardly my fault if you came to the wrong conclusion.”

“You––“

“Are here to discuss Sabrina, not our relationship. Now…sit. Down.”

Zelda scoffed, looking away, before she sat down in the chair, crossing her legs. “This is absurd,” she advised. “If I’m to conclude, Sabrina was only defending her friend against bigoted bullies. If anything, she should be rewarded.”

“Did she discuss the fight with you?”

“No, but I understand Mr Putnam has been having some issues with bullies.”

Lilith nodded, deep exhaustion pulling at her. “Yes, well. Unfortunately, Baxter High’s policy towards any fights is absolute.”

“Did Sabrina start the fight?”

Lilith closed her eyes, annoyance growing on her as she sat back in her seat. “Witnesses say she did and didn’t. Apparently one of the children made a snide comment and Sabrina retorted. When she was walking away, one of the footballers went to do…something in retort against Theo, and Mr Kinkle ended up striking them first.”

“It sounds like to me that they were starting it then.”

“And if it were a simple thing of words, it would be much simpler, but no, it was an extensive fight, and one of the kids has been taken to hospital with what might be a broken leg. His parents would like to push for the expulsion of Sabrina and her friends. At the very least of Theo, who they’ve assured was the person to push the boy, not that anyone else agrees with that.” Lilith rolled her eyes.

Ah, Zelda realised. There were deeper politics at play. She shifted in her seat watching the annoyance flick over Lilith’s face, realising that it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with the other parents.

It’d taken her over forty-five minutes from when she got the phone call to walking into the school’s office. Likely a lot of the students' parents were much closer and Lilith––or Principal Wardwell––had been dealing with them for quite some time.

“This could ruin her academic prospects,” Zelda counted. “It could ruin all of the children if they’re suspended. Surely, something else could be arranged.”

“Surely,” Lilith said, a smirking growing on her lips. “Between you and me, I would very much so like to separate this issue and deal with what I know likely to be true with regards to Theo, but unfortunately I can not. None of the children have come forward to me outside of this event. Despite the assurance from Sabrina that she has spoken to Coach Craven, he assures that it’s an overdramatic flare of what actually occurred.”

Zelda watched as Lilith’s eyes narrowed, seething at the coach.

“So, because a teacher is going against Sabrina’s word, you can’t do anything?”

“Oh, no, I didn’t say that,” Lilith said, “Just that I have to be careful about what I do.” Her nails drummed on the desk, before her eyes flashed, looking at Zelda. “Suspension is what the parents want, and given that it would be across all the students it would be fair, but you’re right, it could affect the academic progression of some our students, as well as the possibility of scholarships for others.”

Zelda swallowed, feeling a flush form over her chest at the way the woman was looking at her. It sounded almost like she was leading to a point. “So you’ll reduce their punishment?”

Lilith tilted her head, her eyes going to the office door briefly. “Well, punishment needs to be served, but I can certainly get creative in finding something for the students to do. Perhaps a charity organisation for their time to remind them that they need to work together—on top of detention, of course.”

It wasn’t fair, but it was agreeable. A fight she was willing to relent.  

“But is that really fair?” Lilith mused, seeming to once again, read her thoughts. “After all, Baxter High’s rules are quite strict on this matter. It should be an expulsion of all students. I was negotiated down to a suspension, however…you’re asking me to agree to detention and a few wasted Saturdays.”

“Surely the rules don’t explicitly dictate expulsion.”

“They do,” Lilith assured. “In fact, a lot of the rules haven’t been updated since the nineteen-twenties.”

Zelda blinked, “What are you getting at?” she asked.

“I would never suggest corporal punishment on a child, but if someone…older were to take it on their behalf…”

Zelda paused, allowing the words to settle between them as she caught the woman’s expression. “Are you suggesting that I act as a whipping girl?” she asked, feeling a shiver run down her spine.

Here? Now? On the desk? If she was honest, it was almost exactly what she needed after the day she had.

Lilith bit her lip, and there was a fine balance to a played innocence and devilish intrigue in the look she threw. It caused Zelda to shift in her chair, turning to look over her shoulder and confirm the office door wouldn’t be thrown open.

“And if I don’t do this?” Zelda asked.

Lilith shrugged. “I’ll still arrange for them to complete their community service, but you’ll be left knowing that the punishment was unfairly reduced to a slap on the wrist—so to speak.”

Zelda knew what she meant was, I won’t offer this again to you, because they’d be unlikely to find themselves in such a situation again where Zelda needed to play as a whipping girl.

It wasn’t a fantasy Zelda knew she wanted until it was dangled before her and almost too unbearable to resist. Low in her belly, she felt the flicker of desire warming through her, enough so that she could feel her heart pounding in her chest as much as she could feel a dull thrum between her thighs.

“Fine,” she said, trying to pretend it didn’t have the exact effect of her that it was.

Lilith grinned, an excitement lighting her as she rose to her feet and then gestured to the desk.

Zelda swallowed. Removing her coat, she stepped around the desk and gave a glance to the windows. The blinds were pulled closed, making it impossible to look in. “Well?” Lilith asked, “What are you waiting for. On the desk, now.”

“Shouldn’t we lock the office door?”

“Bend over,” Lilith said as if she hadn’t heard. Zelda bit her tongue, excitement rolling through her as she bent over the desk. She couldn’t see her, but she felt the woman’s hand run over her skirt.

There was a creak of the chair, and then Lilith was standing, coming around to the office door where she flicked the lock with a meaningful look to Zelda, letting her know that they would not be disturbed.

Zelda splayed her hands on the desk. She wasn’t sure how she felt laid out on Lilith’s desk like this, watching as the woman circled back behind her, not unlike a shark examining circling their dinner.

“Cane or barehand?” Lilith asked.

Zelda blinked. “You have a cane here?”

“Don’t make me ask the question again,” Lilith said. “Or I’ll start adding lashes.”

Zelda swallowed, thinking over the words. “Cane,” she answered because they might as well do this right.

“Good girl.”

Zelda heard the sound of a drawer opening, before the dragging of something firm against the wood, and then Lilith was setting the cane down beside her so that Zelda could see it as another hand ran over her backside.

“I’ll admit, I’ve wanted to do this to you for a while, now. Impetuous as you are.”

Zelda scoffed. “I’ve been rather well behaved if anything.”

“Backtalk,” Lilith tutted. “That’s another lashing, I think.” And then her hands were running down Zelda’s thigh, dropping over the hem of her skirt. Zelda shivered, and then felt as the pencil skirt was rolled up her legs, and then over her hips, before being bunched around her waist.

Lilith’s fingers drew over the back of her thighs, touching over the bare skin void of any stockings or lace. “Do you remember your safe word?” she asked.

“I do,” Zelda nodded, pressing firmer against the table as she stared over the edge, looking at the collection of books and knick-knacks that Lilith had on display.

“Good girl,” Lilith breathed, and Zelda felt her knees go weak.

She felt the garter belt unclipped from the back of her stockings, before being pushed up and out of the way, and then her underwear was being rolled down. They’d barely begun, but if Zelda was honest, she could already feel how wet she was.

“My, my, Ms Spellman. I’m not sure if this is going to get the message across given the effect it’s had on you,” Lilith said, as a finger drew dangerously close to her sex, but didn’t quite touch, keeping to the edges of her thighs. “But let’s give this an honest go, hmm?”

Zelda nodded, not trusting herself to speak as she heard the cane get picked up, dragging slowly against the wood of the desk.

“Spread your legs there, that’s a good girl. Back straight,” she said, adjusting Zelda into position and Zelda shivered at the contact, feeling the cool air brush against the warmth of her sex.

Never in her life had something been so utterly erotic as this.

“We’ll start with five lashings?” Lilith said. “I’d appreciate if you could count them for me. Otherwise, I tend to lose track. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.”

“Yes…?” Lilith enquired.

“Yes, Principal Wardwell.” She wasn’t sure if it was the right thing, but Lilith seemed to chuckle at the response, apparently amused by it.

“Five lashings, dear,” she reminded. Zelda nodded and then waited. Nothing occurred; there was only the dull sound of a clock ticking in the room.

And then the first thwack of the cane hit her on the right cheek, stinging against the skin. “One,” she gasped, eyes squeezing shut as she felt the pain roll across her. The next strike hit against the other side, stinging across the lower side of the cheek and Zelda felt herself clench, “Two,” she said.

There was a punishment in counting it out. Not only did it seem to make it worse, but she felt horribly young, counting her punishments.

“Three!” she gasped, though a moan was building in her chest. A pause came, and then Lilith’s fingers were running across the strike, and Zelda was dropping her head against the table, legs shaking.

It wasn’t horribly painful as she’d first expected, but apparently, she was more into being struck than she realised.

Another strike hit her, high on the right buttocks and Zelda whimpered, feeling wetness slide down her thigh like warm honey. She was drenched and aroused, and there was a dull throb pulling at her sex. There was nothing more she wanted than another hit.

But Lilith seemed to pause, and in the reflection of a knick-knack, Zelda could see a warped version of Lilith holding the cane as she seemed to examine her. “If I knew the effect a good disciple would give to you,” Lilith purred. “I would have done it much sooner.”

Zelda turned, looking over her shoulder to watch Lilith’s eyes dart from her ass to looking up at her, her grin widening.

“Turn around,” Lilith coaxed. “We’re not finished yet.”

Zelda turned around, jerking as fingers pressed against the welt across her backside, slipping over it. And then Lilith’s hand rested over her lower back and the second strike came, sudden and hard and Zelda bit back the groan, her back arching as she jerked forward against the desk, hard enough that it rocked.

And then Lilith’s hand was rubbing against the area, soothing the sting and Zelda felt a whimper rise in her throat, leg shaking at the contrasting touch.

And then came another strike, firmed on the side and Zelda gasped, eyes wide open. “Five, that was five.”

“Was it?” Lilith asked. “I heard you count to two. It sounds like you skipped a few numbers there.”

Zelda twisted around, looking at her. “You can’t be serious?”

Lilith’s brows rose, mischief in her eyes as she cast an exaggerated stern expression at her.“I did ask you to count. I get very lost with these things.”

Zelda huffed, facing back on the desk. She wanted to bite back a response but didn’t trust herself to speak. Despite the sting, Zelda felt the arousal pulling at her. The reality of the situation seemed to hover, reminding her that she was in the school, that she was engaging in discipline by a dominatrix, who’s apparent other job was working as a principal.

And yet, she couldn’t find herself to care.

“We’ll start with three, hmm?” Lilith asked

“Yes,” she answered and then when a silence held between them, she groaned, ducking her head to swallow back her pride. “Yes, Principle Wardwell.”

Again, Lilith laughed. It was a deep, low chuckle divining pleasure from the sadism. It was with that that Zelda was reminded of her email insignia. Madam Satan indeed.

The first strike was firm, and Zelda spoke the word, feeling it come from low in her chest. “Three.” And then the next strike was sharper. “Four,” she gasped, eyes pressing shut. And then, finally, a last strike. It was firm, and yet it crossed over most of the welts, making her thighs shake. “Five,” she whispered, feeling the strike work its way through her body.

She felt her knees weaken, a tugging sensation pulling at her sex as if she’d almost managed to orgasm from that alone.

And just as she steadied herself, another hit came, smacking against both cheeks hard. Zelda bucked and gasped, feeling herself clench at the hit. “Fuck,” she cried, her voice high and pleading.

It was enough for tears to prick at her eyes, and more than enough that Zelda felt an ache low in her body, desperately tugging at her.

“There, all done,” Lilith said, placing the cane down as her other hand rubbed over her backside, soothing the sting.

She didn’t mean to (well, not actively at least) but as the fingers ran over her welts, Zelda found herself arching her back, adjusting her backside in a way that would have the fingers slide across and touch over her sex.

“Oh, I see,” Lilith breathed, and then Zelda felt her hand slide near and close. “You were such a good whipping girl for me, taking ten lashes. Did you want a reward?” It was a tease as if pretending she wasn’t already entirely aware of what Zelda wanted.

She wanted to ask what reward, not wanting to be tricked with something horrible, but she couldn’t find the words. She was so close, so close that it would hardly take more than a well-placed stroke to get her off. Zelda nodded against the desk and felt the hands drop away.

“Turn around,” Lilith said, and she obeyed, hissing as the welts pressed against the edge of the desk. Lilith stepped forward and then Zelda’s chin was being tilted up as Lilith grinned at her. “Part your legs for me.”

Zelda obeyed, spreading her legs, breathing in sharply as she pressed firmer on the welts against the edge of the desk.

Lilith grinned at her, and then she was stepping between her legs, hand drawing lightly against the slick folds. Zelda watched at the pupil expanded, Lilith’s mouth parting as she gasped with what she found.

Zelda wasn’t slick, or wet. She was drenched from the caning and Zelda could feel something akin to embarrassment as she bit her lip, feeling herself quiver at the light touch, arousal dripping over her thighs and stinging against the forming welts.

And then Lilith was sliding inside of her and Zelda felt it like stars behind her eyes. Never had anything felt as deliciously good as the woman sliding however many fingers inside of her.

Lilith’s expression shifted, her face holding in faux surprise before she grinned, like the cat that got the canary, stroking inside of her purposefully with the intent to tease. “Is this what wanted?” she asked. Zelda’s eyes fluttered shut as she nodded, rocking forward.

She regretted the movement, feeling the sting shudder up her spine, mixing with the growing climax.

“Hold on to the desk,” Lilith said. “You’re going to want a steady grip for what I’m about to do.”

Zelda’s fingers wrapped around the desk, uncertain as to why, since she could certainly hold herself up on her feet.

And then Lilith was on her knees before her and Zelda felt herself tremble at the sight. The woman’s incandescent eyes staring up at her as she bent forward, fingers still stroking inside her as she pressed a kiss to her skin, licking along the crease between thigh and labia.

“Jesus Christ,” Zelda hissed, pressing on the ball of her feet, hands grasping at the desk. It was too much, definitely too much in a way that every other fantasy would be shattered and replaced with the image of Lilith on her knees.

Zelda swallowed, watching as Lilith’s tongue slipped between her labia folds in a low, languid stroke, and then she couldn’t watch her any more. It was too sinful, too delicious and her head rolled back, jaw clenching shut as she felt the tongue slip over her sex, drawing over it with such wonderful delight that Zelda could feel the sting of the welts melting and heightening the pleasure Lilith was summoning between her legs.

It was slow and drawn out, and then Lilith’s pace increased, her fingers sliding deeper insider of her, filling her up in a way that felt like she was entirely designed to please her, pressing where she needed it to be pressed, sliding deep and then back.

Zelda could feel her arousal dripping down against her thighs.

“Fuck,” Zelda whimpered, squeezing around the fingers as Lilith’s tongue drew over her clit. “Lilith,” she keened again louder, as Lilith began sucking over the clit, drawing over it until Zelda was no longer riding a wave. She was thrown high and higher and, oh god, she needed more. Her body was shaking, and her grip on the desk was slipping with the way she was riding those fingers.

One hand let go of the desk, slipping into Lilith’s hair, as she urged for more. She could hear the woman laughing between her thighs, but she didn’t care about how unhinged she felt. The woman was filling her up and licking her out like she’d never experienced before and there was nothing in this world that Zelda wanted more than to come.

“Let’s see how messy you are,” Lilith said before her tongue began swirling firm circles and it was all Zelda could do to nod, biting her lip.

The pressure was firmer, and then, Zelda was squeezing tighter, her whole body convulsing as all she could focus on was the pressure building and building, until––

“God, Lilith,” she managed to say, the words squeezed between a breath as she let go and felt the orgasm shake through her, with a sudden, unexpected gush of wetness.

She fumbled back on the desk, barely able to consider what exactly occurred as she realised that Lilith’s fingers hadn’t let up her. Her tongue was pressing flat over her clit, down to her fingers, and Zelda was shaking again. Before she could push her away, she was brought again to climax, stronger than the previous one, that took her by surprise so much that she dropped awkwardly against the desk, feeling papers crease, and something hard and wooden press against her forearm as she caught herself from falling.

Only then did Lilith pull away, her mouth dropping away first, fingers drawing out in such a way that Zelda whined at the sensation, blinking up at the ceiling.

She felt…very wet. And worse, she felt as if there’d been a sudden force to her orgasms, almost like she’d…

Well…she wasn’t sure, but she hadn’t had an orgasm like that for some time.

“What did you do?” she asked breathlessly, feeling the words come out in heavy pants as she watched Lilith rise to her feet, wiping her chin with the back of her hand with an entirely too pleased expression on her face as she reached over Zelda to pick at a tissue.

“Why I believe I made you come twice,” she said, her smile widening. “What do you think happened?”

Zelda felt a flush rush over her face. She’d had many orgasms before, but that had been different to anything she’d experienced. “You…” she trailed off, voice strangling as she looked away as Lilith cleaned her fingers with the tissue before throwing it in the wastepaper bin.

Zelda moved, but before she could, Lilith stopped her. “Here,” she said, reaching over her again and plucking out two sheets of tissue before handing it to her. “Have you never ejaculated like that before?”

Zelda took the sheets of tissue, cleaning herself the best she could before fixing her underwear and stockings. “No,” she admitted. “Well…maybe once or twice, but not like that.” She threw the tissues in the wastepaper bin and shifted her skirt down, feeling the marks on the ass sting as she did so.

They were going to hurt for a while.

“Pleased to be of service then,” Lilith said, taking a seat back in the office chair. “Did you want me to place cream on that?” she asked, pointing towards Zelda’s ass, though the way she swivelled in the chair made Zelda think that she just wanted to pull down her underwear again and fuck her over the desk once more.

“I’ll be fine,” Zelda said, feeling the flush of embarrassment wash over her. They had both been intense orgasms, and although Zelda had greatly enjoyed them both, she couldn’t help the embarrassment that had come with it. She’d been utterly unhinged, and now it seemed there was shame rolling over her for the ejaculation.

Lilith’s face tilted and before Zelda could push away, the woman was standing up before her, a finger on her chin gently guiding her eyes back to face her. “There’s nothing shameful about that.”

Zelda’s eyes narrowed, pushing the hand away from her. “I’m quite aware, thank you,” she said. “I’m not some young girl you need to guide in the ways of sex and sexuality.” Huffing, she pushed off from the desk and immediately regretted it, feeling the sting press over her.

“As you say,” Lilith said, going to sit back in her office chair as if they were having nothing more than a casual conversation. “I do hope you’re finished for the rest of the day, as I imagine that will be quite painful until late this evening.”

Zelda looked away, fixing her hair the best she could without a mirror present. “I trust that what we discussed stands––community service?”

“Yes, but it will be for all the students. Can’t look like a favour any of them,” she said, with a pressing look—annoyance from the need to play politics.

“And the other children?”

“I will handle it. But if you’d like to take up the issue, our PTA is always open. Or we can have another meeting?”

Zelda made a non-committal noise, running her hands over her skirt to ensure she couldn’t see anything.

“I shall see you tomorrow, Ms Spellman,” Lilith said, before gesturing to her door.

Zelda gave her a sharp look, before nodding and stepping away. The next day it was then.

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