#jericho vermont

[hislittleraincloud]

"The four main cliques are Fangs, Furs, Stoners, and Scales."

~ Enid Sinclair, "Wednesday's Child Is Full of Woe"

[elsiebrayisgay]

i read a wenclair college fic (which is maybe my favorite thing i've read this year for disabled wednesday representation) which had a subtheme of "goth lesbians might enjoy listening to orville peck" so of course i'm a goth lesbian and i try to keep pretty broad horizons and enjoy a lot of stuff and i'm sitting here WEEPING i never knew this was gonna click with me like this ;-;

[gardenoblues]

Is it just me or Sheriff Galpin sounds a lot like a Texan?

Now it makes sense, because maybe he named his son after a city in Texas which is Tyler.

(According to Google lol - Tyler is a city in the U.S. state of Texas. It is the seat of government of Smith County, and the largest city in Northeast Texas. Tyler is known as the "Rose Capital of America" (also the "Rose City" and the "Rose Capital of the World"), a nickname it earned from a long history of rose production, cultivation, and processing.) found it fun for a delusional like me.

I thought that maybe Donovan used to live in Tyler, then he moved to Jericho where he met Francoise?? idk that's what I like to think.

Let me just add this as well

Just wondering, if Tyler has a second name maybe it's John. (although in my mind his middle name is French which is Jean-Pierre, based on my fics lol. plus John is the English/American version of Jean anyway.)

been having too many uncontrollable delusions lately sorry abt that

[weemssapphic]

my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

Larissa Weems x reader

Words: ~2.8k | ao3 link in title

"All of your thoughts quieted at once, your eyes fluttering shut as you allowed yourself to fall, and allowed Larissa to catch you."

Just a little New Year's Eve oneshot to pour my melancholy into. Hurt/comfort and Larissa fluff. Maybe a new year's kiss ;) and so much yearning.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Rarely were Nevermore’s haunting halls as still and deserted as on New Year’s Eve. With a majority of the students and staff still away on Christmas holiday, celebrating with family and friends, the usual raucous din of the school was reduced to an almost eerie silence, in which one could hear a pin drop against the worn stone floors. 

The period between Christmas and the new year seemed to be an entire year in and of itself, the days stretched and distorted, every feeling amplified, filling out the empty space in your small teacher’s quarters until they felt fit to burst. The subtle cheer of Christmas was quickly replaced by a kind of all-encompassing melancholy that seemed to seep into your bones and between your joints, the weight of your loneliness magnified by the knowledge that another year had slipped by without your notice, and the pressure that the coming year should somehow be different, simply by virtue of being new.

You hadn’t been home for the holidays in two years, choosing the solitude of Nevermore’s familiarity over the feeling of being a stranger within your own family. You were one of the few who stayed behind at Nevermore - and the others who stayed were mostly those whose families lived in Vermont anyway, so while they were great company for an afternoon coffee or a quick passing chat, they spent the actual holidays outside of the bounds of the school, leaving you in solitude.

The only other person who didn’t seem to leave the school during those days was Larissa. Larissa, who was tight-lipped as ever about her familial situation; Larissa, who seemed ever cheerful in passing, wishing a ‘Happy Christmas’ and offering a bright smile, then shutting herself in her office for long periods of time, never giving anyone a glimpse behind the curtain, behind the carefully curated public persona she’d crafted for herself. Never letting you in enough to know her. Larissa, who seemed warm and personal - close, even - and yet the closer you got, the more you realized how far away she really was. Indeed, you’d been working for her for several years now - you even considered yourself a professional confidant of Larissa’s - yet you knew next to nothing about her personal life.

Enigmatic Larissa.

You knew she was empathetic. You knew she was kind and caring. That she was fiercely protective of her staff and endlessly supportive of her students. You knew she took pride in her position as principal of Nevermore, the position that cemented her in outcast history and within the community of Jericho. You knew that she was devastatingly beautiful - and that that beauty shone through most of all in the way she raised an eyebrow when listening intently, in the crow’s feet that deepened when she laughed, in the way an invisible string seemed to pull her shoulders back, making her stand tall and proud.

You also knew you liked her. Very much.

Thinking about Larissa amplified your loneliness during those somber days that caused one year to bleed into the next. Your ‘crush’, if you could call it that, was usually easy enough to ignore, but something about knowing that it was only your ghost and Larissa’s wandering Nevermore’s barren halls, sweeping past each other yet never making contact, made the yearning unbearable.

Around 10 pm, your little bedroom had reached a new level of stifling - and so, with a bottle of champagne in hand, you slipped out of your quarters and padded through the dark halls, feeling your way along the cool stone of the walls until you reached a door to a narrow, winding staircase that took you straight up to the roof. From there, you could see over half of Jericho, the glittering orange lights of dozens of small houses filled with holiday cheer, the residents and their loved ones celebrating the turn of a new year.

The cold nipped at your nose and seeped through the sleeves of your coat, and you carefully popped open the champagne and took a long swig, crawling onto a flat part of the roof and drawing your knees up to your chest for warmth as you stared vacantly at the dense forest stretching out beyond Nevermore.

“Aren’t you cold up here?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, fumbling with the bottle in your hand and spilling a bit of champagne down your chin mid-sip - you’d been so lost in thought that you hadn’t heard the tell-tale click of Larissa’s kitten heels as she made her way over to where you were sitting.

Larissa stood before you, a long, cream colored woolen coat pulled tight around her waist, her makeup pristine and a bit of silvery hair peeking out from beneath the pastel scarf protecting her curls from the wind. One gloved hand clutched the collar of her coat while her other hand was wrapped around the neck of a full bottle of champagne. Perfectly plucked eyebrows raised over twinkling sapphire eyes that tracked the trail of champagne dribbling down your chin and onto your chest. A blush darkened your cheeks and you hastily wiped your face with your sleeve.

“I’m sorry for startling you,” Larissa said gently, the corners of her lips curling up into an amused smile. You waved your hand in front of your face. 

“Not at all…” You hesitated. Then, “Would you like to sit?”

It was Larissa’s turn to hesitate. Her gaze darted between you and the empty space beside you. With a terse nod she perched herself beside you, looking far too regal and polished to be dirtying her coat on the slated roof.

“How did you find me up here?”

Larissa remained silent, and the silence seemed to stretch onward into eternity - so much so that you began to wonder if she’d gone deaf and hadn’t heard you at all. Or if she was being purposely obtuse. You startled again when she finally spoke, having already resigned yourself to not getting a response.

“I stopped by your quarters but you didn’t answer the door - I wondered where you’d gone off to.”

Her answer surprised you - you didn’t think she’d be thinking about you, let alone that she’d go looking for you.

“You went looking for me?”

“You left the door to the staircase ajar, darling.”

You blushed again - it was something you did quite often in Larissa’s presence. Her words seemed to have that effect on you - and her gratuitous use of pet names was no help in that regard. “Sorry… I guess my head isn’t all there today…” Her proximity seemed to rob you of your last brain cell, you thought - you kept that thought to yourself.

Larissa nodded as if in understanding, and your eyes dropped to the bottle in her hand, still corked. Larissa’s gaze followed your own, and it was her turn to blush.

“I thought we could toast to the new year,” she conceded, fingers picking at the bottle’s label, which was already curling at the edges. She noticed this and tried, in vain, to smooth them down.

With a grin, you held out your own bottle - already open, and already half empty. Larissa looked amused, one eyebrow shooting up her forehead, and you thought she might turn down the offer in lieu of a proper glass - you were pleasantly surprised when she set down her own bottle, accepting yours and bringing it to her lips. Your mouth went dry as you watched her throat bob and you had to look away to calm your racing heart when she licked a stray drop of champagne off of her upper lip.

There was a faint print of red lipstick on the rim of the bottle and, when Larissa handed it back to you and you took your next sip, you secretly made sure to align your own lips perfectly with the mark.

Another period of silence settled over the both of you like the thick layer of snow that blanketed Nevermore’s grounds. It felt heavy but not entirely uncomfortable - Larissa’s presence felt warm and safe, penetrating your bones and taking away some of the gloom that you’d been dragging around with you. You passed the bottle back and forth until it was nearly empty, the minutes ticking by, hitting 11:00, then 11:15, 11:30… 

You handed Larissa the bottle, your fingers stiff as you uncurled them from around the bottleneck - it seemed that even Larissa’s presence couldn’t keep the chill out entirely, and you squished your hands between your thighs in a fruitless attempt to warm them. Larissa caught the action, briefly frozen in place as an internal debate seemed to unfurl within her - and then placed the now empty bottle at her feet, wordlessly tugging off her gloves and holding them towards you.

“Oh, no, it’s okay, I promise I’m not that cold,” you insisted, and Larissa tutted and nudged the gloves towards you once again.

“Take them. Please.”

Reluctantly, you pulled the gloves over your hands - they were just a size too big, but the heat they’d retained from Larissa’s own hands did help, caressing your icy palms. “Thank you…” You offered Larissa a grateful smile, and her own lips stretched wide, deepening her smile lines and crow's feet and bringing a radiant light to her eyes. “Larissa?”

“Hmm?”

“You don’t have to sit here with me, you know. I won’t jump or anything.”

Larissa’s smile fell the tiniest bit, her forehead creased. “That’s… that’s not why I’m here. If you’d like me to leave, however-”

“No!” Your reply came so fast that Larissa seemed to start, her shoulders stiffening. Her eyes widened as she looked at you, but she remained rooted to the spot. “I’m… happy to have you here. I just mean… you’re probably cold, and I’m probably not the best company. I don’t get why you’re wasting your time up here with me, freezing your gorgeous ass off… Why haven’t you gone home to your family like everyone else?”

The words came out of your mouth before you realized how insensitive they might be, and Larissa’s silence was indicative of the pain they may have inflicted on her. She wrung her hands in her lap, her gaze falling to her own knees - you’d never seen her appear so unsure of herself, and you’d never regretted opening your mouth more than in that moment.

“Fuck…” You rubbed your face with the palms of Larissa’s gloves, the material soft and cool against your skin. The fragile peace that had enveloped you was crumbling before your eyes. “I’m sorry, we don’t even know each other like that… Can we please forget I said anything?”

“Nevermore is my home,” Larissa admitted in a hushed, wistful tone. “I’m not particularly close with my family, to be quite honest.”

You frowned - perhaps Larissa was just as lonely as you were. The thought made your stomach clench. “Neither am I,” you replied with a chuckle. The sound, though bitter, drew a chuckle out of Larissa as well.

“You don’t leave Nevermore during the holidays, either,” Larissa said. It was a statement of fact - of course she’d noticed your presence in the school over the past few Christmasses. You shook your head. 

“Nah,” you confirmed. “It’s a bit lonely, I guess, but being surrounded by people who don’t understand you is even lonelier, you know?”

Larissa let out a breath. “Oh, I know…”

“So we’ve both been spending our holidays alone in our quarters, then?”

A blonde eyebrow raised, a silver-haired head tilted. “It does seem that way, doesn’t it?”

You stretched out, your muscles tight from sitting in the same position for what felt like ages, your limbs freezing. Tugging your phone out of your pocket, you tapped the screen with your thumb to check the time.

11:59

“It’s almost midnight.” You tilted your phone towards Larissa, who leaned over you to get a better look at the screen. Her perfume filled your nostrils - white florals, musk - heavy and clean. It felt like coming home, cozy and familiar. It made you dizzy. 

Larissa leant back again, her face now inches away from your own. “It’s almost midnight,” she echoed with a small smile, and you thought you saw her gaze flick briefly to your lips. Perhaps you were finally going crazy. In the distance, explosions sounded and the sky above Jericho lit up with fireworks, pulling your attention away from Larissa. You glanced back down at your phone.

00:00

You nodded at the screen, a wry grin spreading across your face, before shoving your phone back into your pocket. “Another year without a new year’s kiss,” you said with a self-deprecating snort. “There’s always next year, I guess…”

Larissa was quiet, staring at you, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

“Larissa?” you whispered, her name dying in your throat. You weren’t sure you’d spoken at all, the ringing in your ears drowning out even the fireworks in the background.

You felt her cold palms against your cheeks before you’d even registered that she was leaning towards you, her hot breath ghosting over your face a millisecond before velvet lips sealed the distance between the two of you.

All of your thoughts quieted at once, your eyes fluttering shut as you allowed yourself to fall, and allowed Larissa to catch you. It was a safe landing, soft and warm, cushioned by pillowy, inviting lips and strong, gentle hands. Your heart soared and your own hands shot out, seeking Larissa’s waist, grounding yourself against her.

“Happy New Year,” you breathed against Larissa’s lips, opening your eyes and going slightly cross-eyed as you tried to meet her gaze. You felt her lips stretch into a smile, felt more than heard her whisper, “Happy New Year, my dear.” You smiled into the kiss and closed your eyes again - your teeth clashed against hers, and she breathed out a laugh against your mouth as one of her hands slid to the nape of your neck, fingers curling into your hair, and the other hand trailed down until it met the collar of your coat, where it tugged you closer.

Larissa’s waist felt heavenly beneath your palms, as if they were made to rest there, and her nails scratching gently at your scalp sent a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the outside temperature. Her tongue flicked at your bottom lip, accompanied by a breathy sigh, and you parted your lips and allowed her to lick into your mouth - she tasted of champagne and lipstick, and she was both languorous and playful in her explorations of your mouth.

When she pulled away to catch her breath, she rested her forehead against your own, her lips brushing against the corner of your mouth. “Was that alright?” she whispered, her breath caressing your face and causing you to shudder visibly. 

“Yes. God, yes.” Through your veins flowed a sense of inebriation that was completely independent of how much you’d drunk, that had everything to do with how intoxicating Larissa’s lips felt against yours - and, moreover, how euphoric Larissa’s affection made you feel.

Larissa’s state of mind seemed to match yours - her smile bordered on giddy, and she seemed reluctant to separate from you.

“I think you mentioned wanting to toast to the new year?” you mumbled with a smile, nodding to the full bottle of champagne Larissa had brought with her that stood forgotten at her feet. Larissa reached for it, tearing off the foil and wire and holding out the bottle as she popped the cork - champagne spewed out over Nevermore’s roof, foamy, bubbly liquid running down the bottleneck and all over Larissa’s hands and wetting her coat. Her eyes widened, met your own equally shocked gaze - then the two of you started to laugh. 

Larissa raised the bottle to her mouth and ran her tongue along its side, licking up the spilled champagne, then offered you the bottle. She looked at you fondly and the pale moonlight illuminated her face from the side, and you noticed just how badly her lipstick had smudged in the process of kissing you. 

“You have something…” You swiped your thumb across her chin to remove the excess of lipstick, giggling when you realized that it had stained her skin.

“So do you,” she teased, mirroring your action, tracing her thumb along the outline of your lips.

“You’re beautiful, Larissa,” you whispered, coaxing a radiant blush to her cheeks that was visible even in the dark of night. She ducked her head to hide it, scooting closer and resting her cheek on your shoulder. You might like to sit like that forever, you thought to yourself as you wound your arm around Larissa’s waist and held her close, feeling her torso move with every breath. Maybe New Year’s Eve wasn’t so bad after all - with the right company.

[lindahall]

Wilson Alwyn Bentley, a Vermont farmer and lover of snowflakes, died Dec. 23, 1931, at the age of 66. Bentley’s career defies labelling; he lived his entire life in Jericho, Vermont... learn more

[fadingdaggerr]

Hey, I have just read heaven’s gate ( Larissa weems x reader ) and absolutely loved it! Is there any chance for a part two? Thank you x

pearlescent (18+ minors, dni)

pairing: larissa weems x gn!reader

summary: part two of heaven’s gate | 4.5k

includes: lesbians too in love for their own good, fluff

warnings: kissing/making out, sexual innuendo, afab reader (no breasts described for r), smut (fingering (L/r), oral (L), thigh riding (L)) can u tell i like eating pussy

note: first non-melissa post in over a year to bring me back from hiatus. thank u for ur patience. i feel like those wattpad writers that are like “just got out of a coma here’s a fic”

The smooth paving of the highway becomes bumpy and uneven as you pass the final gas station between here and your destination. Every pothole the car jumps over is like a shot of espresso through your aching joints. After the last stop, you promised yourself to drive straight through. Another stop would mean another chance to acknowledge the numbing of your ass after five hours in the car, and with one hour left, you’re not risking it. You really weren’t kidding when you said that teleportation would be much more useful.

Cell service is quickly obsolete as you continue through the woods, scanning the road for any squirrels that may decide that today was the day. Drumming against the steering wheel, you let your mind wander. Maybe coming without telling her is a bad idea, but it also has the potential not to be. She had begged you to drive to her just two days after she left, and you would have, if only your client hadn’t walked in the door. Dueling busy schedules made two months pass like molasses, longing to drop everything and hitchhike if you had to. Would the lack of alerting her put her off? Gods, you hope not.

A sudden shift of turbulent driving to a slight jostle of cobblestone removes you from the swirling doubt in your mind, peeking towards the sign you’re approaching. Green and rusting, white lettering reads: Welcome to Jericho! The Salem of Vermont. You find yourself glad someone took the time to graffiti over the last bit.

Ignoring the anxiety climbing your spine, you keep going, and going, and going, and going, until you finally break through the treeline. Out of nowhere sits the cutest town you think you’ve ever seen, with little brick shops with murals and a gazebo with the remains of New Year’s decor still hanging on. It makes sense why people would want to come here, why she would choose to stay.

In an attempt to not draw more attention than an outsider already gets, let alone an outcast one, you don’t linger on viewing the quaint town of Jericho. There’s better views awaiting you later, at the very castle-like building you can see on the high hill. Looming in a shadow, one that doesn’t extend over the rest of the town, sits Nevermore in all its glory. The corners of your lips turn up into a small smile, the view is nostalgic, bringing back the memories of your time at Byron’s.

The memory brings a reminder to the forefront of your mind, and with cell service restored, now is the best time. Carefully, and without taking your eyes off the road, you navigate to your favorite contacts.

“Hello, my angel!”

You chuckle, “it’s just me.”

“Fuck, nevermind then,” Parker grumbles, “so you’re not there yet?”

“I’m pulling up in a second, just wanted to let you know now before I can’t.”

A characteristic cackle comes from the other end, “gonna jump her bones immediately, I see, I see. Can’t say I blame you, she makes me question things about myself.”

“This is exactly why I called you before getting here,” you chuckle, pulling through the front gates, “but I gotta go now.”

“Yes, yes, go get slutted out, harlot. Just please call me sometime, so I can talk with the love of our lives,” Parker begs.

“I’m telling Max you said that,” you deadpan, hanging up just as you hear a rushed wait!

—☽—

For a town so small minded, from what you’ve been told, you’re more than surprised to find that you are able to walk into Nevermore unnoticed. Some students stand around, talking amongst themselves, but none seem to pay you any mind, likely thinking you’re just another teacher. Using the anonymity to your advantage, you slow your pace, listening in carefully. A gorgon walks by you, the only student at this time that seems to be carrying any school supplies.

You mentally scold yourself for stereotyping her studious behavior before you focus in on her mind. Your consciousness runs through hers, searching through test anxieties and hockey tryout concerns, until you find what you need. The literature wing, I could’ve guessed that. Coming back into your own mind, you’re already speeding up the stairs before your pupils return to their normal size.

Passing another student two stories up, you pray the siren knows which office you need, yet they don’t. Neither do the werewolves or the seer. Do you guys even go to classes? You’re about to give up on the full surprise, headache seeping in from all the mindreading of anxious teenagers. Just before you exit the hallway entirely, you actually look up from your feet, and you mentally smack yourself upside the head for not just reading the plaques on the doors.

With a renewed pep in your step, you keep just shy of running as you read every door. Finally, you reach a door that has a newer plaque compared to neighboring ones, serif font unscathed by age. Professor L. Weems, Department of Literature. Your heart skips a beat at the mere sight of her name. Noticing the door being cracked open, you push it open slightly more, hoping your search ends here.

Hunched over an antique desk, red-framed glasses perched on her nose with a pen spinning between her fingers, she doesn’t seem to notice the attention on her. It’s hard to pry yourself away from watching her, when holding her is seemingly moments away. Pushing the door the rest of the way open, you knock on the doorway with shaking knuckles.

A huff passes scarlet lips as Larissa peers up, a brief, disinterested gaze passing over her features. The pen in her hand stills, falling to the desk with a small clatter. Blue eyes widen as she stares unwaveringly at you. Fidgeting under her gaze, you smile nervously, “was- uh- was looking for professor Weems? Know her, by any chance?”

In no less than a blink, Larissa is rounding her desk at top speeds, crashing into your body as her arms wrap around your neck. Nearly falling into the hall, you just barely keep the two of you up, leaning into her to walk her backwards. One hand grips her waist as the other blindly reaches for the door to shut it, quickly coming back to bury into her hair. Your face tucks into her neck, brushing your nose against her skin, breathing her in.

“You’re here,” Larissa says quietly, disbelieving.

“I’m here,” you mumble against her warm skin, “couldn’t wait any longer.”

A sigh of relief passes plush lips, “and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Surprise, it’s a noun,” you joke, pressing a soft kiss to the expanse of her neck, relishing in the way she shudders at the contact. There’s no reply except for her arms tightening around you, wordlessly telling you that this surprise is one she likes.

Pulling back from you suddenly, Larissa just stares at you, blue eyes taking in every feature, lingering on your lips before flicking back to your eyes. Your hand moves from her waist to cup her cheek, stroking soft skin that you’d been longing to touch. She takes the invitation, leaning forward to press delicate lips against your own, slow and savoring. Your tongue traces her lips, tasting earl grey and lipstick as she lets you in. No struggle or search for dominance, simply a familiar dance you’d both dearly missed. The hand in her hair stays in place, keeping her close as the other traces her cheekbone and jaw, memorizing the feeling of her skin. Every piece of you missed her, and all of those pieces felt healed the moment her lips touched yours.

Pulling away slowly, both of you keep your eyes closed, simply existing in this moment. It takes a while for either of you to move away, but you feel giddy seeing Larissa’s pink cheeks and smudged lipstick. Your thumb drifts to her lips, wiping away the mess you’ve made, ignoring that you are likely equally covered. Soft lips press into the pad of your thumb, gentle and sweet.

“I cannot believe you’re here,” she whispers into the small space between you, “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you,” you reply at the same volume.

It takes two hours for the halls of Nevermore to empty, students retreating to their rooms or to the quad, finally allowing a chance for the two of you to leave Larissa’s office. Silence seems to come over the school, however frightening it may be when dealing with teenagers, though neither of you mind as you simply exist in the spacious office. After weeks of phone calls that lasted most of the night, quiet amazingly comes easy.

Only a soft hum from the blonde breaks the silence, twisting her wrist to check her watch. Turning towards you slightly, she keeps a soft volume as she speaks, “how would you like a tour?”

“That sounds perfect, I only got to see the foyer and this hall,” you answer, nudging into her shoulder softly. “Was on a mission, I didn’t really get a chance to explore.”

“Sorry about that, but we’re not supposed to have visitors here,” she explains, “the campus has essentially been on lockdown since the nineties.”

You chuckle, reaching a hand out to draw her in. Her fingers slide across your palm before gripping, letting you tug her closer, “in that case, security might be too lax. I got in no problem.”

“You what?” Larissa stiffens, looking at you bewildered.

“I drove right through the gate, walked right in, no one even noticed me,” you chuckle, “just walked on up.”

Her lips purse as she tries to hide the laugh building in her chest, leaning in more, “you read a child’s mind to find me, didn’t you?”

It’s impossible to hide the wry grin on your face, “potentially.”

“Potentially,” she mimics, amused.

—☽—

Nevermore has officially put Byron’s Home to shame.

Every hallway is covered in paintings, Latin engravings littering every shelf, moon phases in different corners. It makes you wish you never set foot in that brick schoolhouse all those years ago. The conservatory alone almost made you weep; crawling vines and shining moonflowers, the feasting venus flytraps, and, your favorite, bleeding hearts. Larissa stands back and watches as your fingers ghost over petals, pressing lightly against the flytraps full belly, all with a deep fascination behind your eyes.

“I can’t believe you have this,” your voice echoes quietly in the room, “it- it’s incredible.”

Her silence throws you, immediately turning. The lost look in her eyes makes you falter, and where your typical instinct is to read, you instead step closer.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, reaching to run your fingers over her knuckles that stay clutching her shirt.

There have been many times where Larissa wished for different abilities, or no abilities at all. Right now, however, she wished for nothing more than your ability. She wished she could reach into your mind and see how you saw the world, how you see the flowers, how you see her. Seeing you now, how you watch her with more reverence than you grant what, in her mind, is a greater beauty, she knows she has a window into the limitless path your consciousness takes.

“Nothing at all. I just have one more place in mind,” she answers, hand lifting to stroke your cheek, lingering against your oddly cool skin. You nod wordlessly, letting your fingers intertwine with hers.

Hand held in Larissa’s, you let her lead you through the halls. She pauses to peak around every corner, terrified the two of you would be caught. Leading forward, more like tugging, she brings you towards a spiraling staircase. Letting her go first, she enters into a massive room, cool but comfortable, dark enough to rely on distanced golden lamps.

Floor to ceiling bookshelves line everywall, the familiar Latin etched into stone and wood alike. Ancient Greek, Cyrillic, and Tamil, first and second editions of texts you thought you’d only ever see inaccurate translations of. Sections of different outcast abilities, poetry from around the world, fables of the inception of different classes. Most have an unfortunate layer of dust over them, long ignored in interest of the clearly loved young adult section.

“You’re really trying to make me jealous,” you say breathily, “this place is incredible.”

“These are my favorite sections,” Larissa admits shyly, “I spend hours of my day here and never see another soul. It’s peaceful.”

“All by your lonesome?” There’s a slight mockery in your tone, “not alone now, are you though?”

Red lips curve into a smile as you step closer to her, fingers grazing up her side, slipping around her back to tug her closer. Hands rise to cup your face, eyes hooded as she takes you in. Pupils blown and lip between your teeth, she doesn’t want to deny herself the view nor the pleasure. Leaning into your space, her nose brushes yours, lips just barely ghosting.

You know she’s teasing, even with closed eyes, you can sense her smile. Tilting, you capture her lips, sighing at the contact. The moment your tongue brushes her bottom lip, a switch in Larissa flips, pushing you back into the shelving behind you. Sliding from your face, her hands grip your waist, clutching with an unnecessary urgency. Meeting her pace, your fingers weave into her updo, pulling hairs loose as you try to keep her closer than she physically can manage.

The muffled boom of a door on the other side of the shelf forces you to jump apart, wide eyes looking at each other like deer in headlights. Cheeks puff as you try not to laugh, Larissa immediately pulls you out of the library, forcing you into a jog as you run towards a different end of the building.

—☽—

Carefully, she guides you upstairs, praying that no other teachers or students are around to see her sneaking someone in. Both of you struggle to keep your giggling in, the juvenile nature of it all making you fluttery.

Coming up to a white door, you see another plaque reading Dormitory Parent. Unlocking the door with a strong wiggle, Larissa motions for you to walk in first, quickly shutting the door behind her and latching it. Leaning against it, she lets out a sigh.

Larissa doesn’t get a chance to move closer before your lips press against hers once more. This time, neither of you waste a second, no longer nerved up by the chance of someone walking in again. Timid brushing of lips is forgone as her tongue bullies its way into your mouth, stroking yours with a gentle dominance that has your knees weak.

Wanting hands grip at her waist as she pushes her backwards, leading you further into her quarters until you’re backed into a wall. Lips move from yours and trail down your chin to your neck, teeth passing over your pulse. A groan leaves your lips, hands scrambling to pull Larissa back to your lips, missing them greatly in the seconds they’ve been apart from yours. Feeling her smile against you makes your heart clench, needing more, anything she’s willing to give.

Pulling back from her lips only enough to speak, you ask, “bedroom?”

There’s no reply, only you being tugged from the wall and walked backwards further into the room. You’re so lost in her, her lips, her hands, her tongue, everything. The feeling of dropping onto the mattress is what brings you back in, eyes cracking open to see a lightly panting Larissa above you, lips parted and kiss-swollen. Lapis eyes flick over your face, expression similar to the one she wore when she first saw you, right on the cusp of relief and disbelief. She’s not unlike a goddess viewing her devotee.

Taking her moment of distraction as a tool for your benefit, you flip the two of you, happily taking in the new view of her beneath you. Hair of white gold splaying over the pillows, eyes wide, skin flushed, and entirely beautiful, Larissa Weems is a gift for your eyes only. The hand on her hip slides up, pushing the fabric of her dress with them as they climb. It’s a silent question, or more of a silent begging, hands impatient to feel her.

Larissa’s head rises off the pillow, lips pushing into yours, her hands going to yours to push them even higher, dress inching up more and more. As she wishes, you lift her dress, hands finding solace on plush thighs, laying your body between her legs. The familiarity of it makes you moan into her mouth, pure want running through your veins.

Hands close in on the lace covering her, lips moving to her neck for a chance to breathe, “can I take this off?”

“Yes,” she answers in a whiny tone, lifting herself off the mattress slightly.

You carefully, thought quickly, lower the zipper. Larissa strips the dress off her torso, letting your wanting hands take care of the rest. The world stops for a moment as you look down at her, skin luminescent against dark sheets, constellations of freckles dotted across her chest.

The blush crawling up her neck brings you back in, and you haphazardly shrug off your jacket and tear off your own shirt. Leaning back down, you forgo her lips to kiss down her neck, reveling in her skin beneath yours. Larissa moans softly as her hands wander down your back, around your torso, tugging at your belt, and you're quick to head her command. Greedy hands pull you back down on the bed, gripping at warm skin as your lips take purchase on her neck again.

Laying her back, you continue your path down, fingers taking her bra straps down with you. Eyes peek up to hers, silently asking permission. Larissa arches into you in response, and your lips wrap around a rosey nipple. Nails dig into your back as she moans beneath you, hips bucking against your. Satisfying her desire, you place a thigh between her legs as you continue to lavish her chest with affection.

An already soaked white thong becomes absolutely ruined as Larissa grinds steadily against your thigh, moaning huskily into open air. Continuing down, your thigh moves away as you near her heat. Fingers curling around the band of her panties, you pause, “may I?”

“Please, darling,” Larissa replies breathily, mouth hanging open as you toss the fabric across the room.

Mouthing at her thighs, you suck harder as you get closer, red marks painted across a white canvas. Reaching her slick pussy, your mouth nearly waters at the sight, descending on her immediately. Her hips rock just as quickly, trying to ride your face as your tongue swipes through her folds. Savory wetness covers your chin, nose just barely rubbing against her clit.

Tilting up, you allow your lips to wrap around her button, sucking gently. The gasps Larissa emits above you only egg you on further, hand moving from her thigh to her entrance. Your middle finger slowly pushes into her, pumping carefully before adding your index. Her walls grip your fingers snugly, trying to keep you there. Her hips never still, and you force them down with your free hand as you focus your attention on her.

Alternating between sucking and licking her clit, combined with your fingers increasing pace inside her, has Larissa’s voice growing horse, moans turning to pitchy whines. Long legs wrap around your body, holding you snugly against.

Heavy whimpers fall from her lips. “Please,” she begs, “more, baby, please.”

Denying her when she’s asking so nicely, so prettily? You could never. Your ring finger lines with the others, pressing into her quickly. The stretch makes Larissa cry out above you, heels digging deeper into your back as your tongue swirled around her sex. It takes little time for her breathing to grow hoarse, mouth hanging open as her eyes squeeze shut.

Her breath hitches and hips still, essence coating your fingers as you watch her chest rise and fall rapidly, eyes finally reopening. Slowing your fingers, you retract from her, but in no way are you done just yet. Letting go of her clit with a small pop, you drag your tongue down to languidly traverse her folds, taking in her full taste.

Probing inside her, you relish in the breathy whine that comes from her throat. Pulling back, you flatten your tongue, swiping across her cunt. Trailing up, passing her navel, the dip in her ribs, you take a quick pass over her nipple, swirling softly. Grabby hands pull at you, tugging you back to her lips. Moaning at her own taste, Larissa’s body arches into you, heat brushing over your thigh once again.

Hand trailing up from her thigh, you pull back from her lips, offering your fingers in place of your tongue. Fading red lips wrap around your digits, her own tongue swirling, cheeks hollowing. You can feel your eyes glazing over as you watch her greedily taste herself, gently and unknowingly grinding on your thigh.

Letting go, Larissa takes your stupor to flip you over. Staring down with cool blue eyes with a mysterious fire. Wandering lower and lower, they trace over your own underwear, slick from pleasing her. The whimper you let out only eggs her on, rubbing you over the fabric.

“Riss…” you manage out, already breathless from her touch, “baby…”

A low hum leaves her throat, hand sliding under to make contact with you. Long fingers slide through wetness as lips attach themselves to your neck. Two fingers slide into you, slowly, her thumb makes tight, firm circles over your clit, making you keen into her. The pressure building in your core, that had been steadily growing since the library, feels so overwhelming with her all over you now.

Feeling you trying to ride her slow hand, she speeds up, taking over for you as your moans quickly become airy. Under her lips, she feels your heart beating wildly. For her. All for her.

Her scent, her taste, her hands, her tongue, all of her was all over you. Her teeth scrape against your skin as her fingers curl, making you groan. The hand not in her hair splays across her back, desperate to keep her close. Feeling the want dripping from you, her fingers speed up, almost bullying gummy walls that cling to her.

Tugging her by her hair, you bring her to your lips. Open mouth and messy, you’re barely kissing, just moaning into her mouth as she presses harder to your button, bucking into her hand. You can’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed about how quickly she got you here, how quickly you’ve become putty beneath her.

Deciding she needs to taste her hard work sooner rather than later, her fingers just barely spread inside you, stretching you. The motion makes you erupt in a silent scream, clinging more to her as you feel the coil in your stomach begin to snap.

“C’mon darling,” she husks against your throat, “give it to me. I know you want to.”

Her words are your undoing, the sheer need in her voice and the feeling of her inside you was enough to snap the band. The whines from you turn into breathy pants, hands on Larissa still holding her close as her fingers slow. As she tries to remove them, you close your legs around her wrist, locking her in place. Her lips drag up your neck, capturing your own, sighing into your mouth as your fingers scratch gently at her scalp.

Lazy kisses last until the post-orgasm warmth leaves your body, shivering slightly at the cool air that you can finally feel tickling your skin. Legs unclamp her hand, allowing her to draw back. You nearly cum on the spot watching her suck your release off, moaning softly against her own fingers.

“Keep doing that and you’re not leaving this bed for a week,” you mumble beneath her.

She chuckles, rolling off to lay on the bed beside you, “I can’t say I’d be opposed.”

Just facing her, watching her chest rise and fall, rosy cheeks slowly returning to their normal color, you’re in awe. Freshly fucked and still perfect, Larissa Weems is a miracle. Laying on your side, you trace your fingers up and down her side, following the path of silver stretch marks and faint freckles. You push yourself forward, pressing yourself into her warm body, adoring how her arms immediately wrap around you.

“I missed you,” she whispers, as if she’s not sure you’d share her sentiment.

You press a kiss to her collarbone, “I missed you more.”

There’s a few minutes of silence before you feel Larissa chuckle beneath you. You hum in question. She squeezes you briefly, “would you like dinner?”

Another pause. You both giggle as you try to walk out of the room with a small waver in your steps.

—☽—

When your eyes open, you think it’s the sun cracking through the curtain that pulls you from the depths of slumber. A piercing ring breaks through the tiredness, bringing your attention to your phone. Your groan is met in tandem by Larissa’s, who shoves her head into her pillow further, arm tightening around your waist. Stretching in her grasp, you mentally prepare for what you know is coming. The little shit has a radar.

“No,” you say the moment you bring the phone to your ear.

“Oh sweet angel, I miss how nice you are,” Parker sing-songs, “did I wake you from your slutty slumber?”

“Yes, both of us. Dick,” you grumble, “you have zero consideration.”

“Give my real friend the phone, I’m done with you,” he says, though you know he’ll never leave you alone. Even when you eventually die.

“Baby, it’s for you,” you say as you pull the phone away from your ear. Larissa peeks one eye at you, clearly irritated. Parker, you mouth. You wish it wasn’t so endearing how quickly she perked up. Sitting up, she nods, motioning for you to put her on speaker.

“Hello, Parker,” she utters through a yawn.

“My love! How are you? Achy? Tired? In need of a better lover?”

“I’m great,” Larissa chuckles, “and yes, yes, and no, most definitely not.” Her eyes stay on you as she answers, peeking down at your lovingly annoyed expression.

The rest of the call is simply Parker talking at Larissa, rather than to her, while you shake your head at his antics. Curling back into her side, you let them talk as you watch her face. She seems at ease, a stark contrast from the stressed Larissa you’d seen when you first looked in her office. She’s less imposing, loose hair and smudged makeup, a smile playing on her lips as she listens to Parker’s plans for a surprise two month anniversary gift for Max.

In the walls of her bedroom. In bed with you. Breathing the same air. Perfection lies beside you.

note: if i could rewrite the entirety of part one i would. but i guess that shows growth in writing or whatever

feedback appreciated as always

[stirthewaters]

Too Sharp to Touch pt.2

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Language

Summary: After your fight last week you've been sentenced to community service in Jericho, and you take a break at the Weathervane for some peace and quiet

Pairing: Wednesday x Reader

“This stinks,” you muttered to yourself as you pulled a discarded paper cup from the sidewalk and placed it into your bag. 

After your so called ‘dogfight’ a week before, you’d been sentenced by Weems to go out and do some community service in Jericho. On a Saturday. So unfair. So while you could’ve been drawing with Xavier and Eugene in the shed, instead you were stuck outside in the unusually hot September sun, picking up bits of trash, surrounded by normies, a few of those who’d give you dirty looks as they passed.

It wasn’t the act of simply cleaning up discarded trash and whatnot that bothered you; it was the fact that it was boring, hot, and unfair. Since when did a little fight deserve this cruel of a punishment? And on a Saturday? That was just cruel. 

Grunting slightly, you moved your trash bag over to your right shoulder, kneeling slightly to grab a broken plastic spoon from a crack in the sidewalk. This punishment was stupid; there was barely any trash anyway. You’d been out here for nearly an hour and a half and yet your bag was barely half-full; was Weems just trying to make you suffer? Deep down you knew of course she wasn’t, but still. It felt good to complain about something while you were forced to endure this.

Your muscles still felt uncomfortably tight from your fight. Sure, you had given the other guy a pretty good whooping but even you couldn’t deny that he had beat the shit out of you; your bruise lingered on your cheekbone and jaw, and every time you moved too sharply your side ached. You could definitely go for a nice cool shower right now, but no. Today was not a good day. 

Maybe Wednesday was right though. You weren’t the best at fighting, especially for a werewolf, which was pretty odd even to you. Sure, you could throw a decent punch, but couldn’t anyone? You wouldn’t admit it to her but you wished you were as good at fighting as Wednesday was.

Every time you thought of that fight you remembered the feeling of her eyes on you, examining you, thoughts and focus only on you.

It made that little bit of fur on the back of your neck rise and tingle, embarrassingly enough. 

You were walking by Uriah’s Heap when you heard the bell at the door signaling someone exiting the shop, and you briefly glanced over your shoulder to see a young-aged man in a plaid button up with a gun slung over his shoulder exit the store. Eyebrows furling in slight disgust, you started to move on, trying to hustle away from him, but you weren’t fast enough and felt a hand clamp on your shoulder, followed by his voice

“Hey, you’re that Lyall kid, right?”

Eyes rolling with a little bit of disgust, without even looking behind you, you muttered, “you’ve got the wrong person,” stepping forward and away, but the man hurried to catch up beside you.

“No, no, I’ve seen you before, I swear.” The man’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “Aren’t you some kinda wolf freak?”

You started walking faster, getting irritated; you needed to control yourself or you were going to get into another fight and get punished even worse.

“I’m not supposed to be talking to people right now, okay?”

Completely ignoring what you had just said, the man walked alongside you, tone prodding you for information.

“You know, I’ve heard some pretty wild shit about you,” he grinned, showing a single gold tooth replacing one of his canines. “Aren’t you rolled up in that weird-ass school, Nevermore?”

Not wanting to seem rude, you just stared straight ahead as you walked, muttering, “yes.”

The man smiled, seeming pleased to get some sort of information out of you. “So what are you doing all the way in Vermont instead of in New Hampshire? With your daddy?”

“This school fits me better,” you responded stiffly, rolling your eyes again.

“What, because you’re a freak?”

Clearly this man was just trying to provoke you. And, annoyingly, it was working. You could feel that familiar bubble in your chest that made you want to get mad. Punch someone. Especially him. Yet, you knew that if Weems heard about you beating up a normie in town, your punishment would surely be so much worse.The man continued to pester you as you passed the antique shop, your eyes flickering to the gun strapped over his neck as you muttered, ready to be out of this conversation, “look, I gotta go.”

Without waiting for his response, you turned sharply and crossed the street, garbage bag thumping repeatedly against your back. Skirting around a parked car, you paused on the sidewalk, looking over at the man on the other side of the road, wondering if he was planning on following you. Relief flooded you and your stiff posture disappeared as you watched the man turn the corner and disappear.

Still a little on edge, you noticed that now you were right in front of the Weathervane. Hesitating, you debated your options. It was hot, you’d already been out there for a while, and you had to admit that what little trash there had been around town was now safely tucked in your bag. Surely you deserved a break at least? 

You let out a long exhale of relief as you entered the shop, the air conditioning soothing your sore muscles from bending over all morning. The smell of coffee grounds was particularly strong and you felt yourself untense further as your fear started to melt. You headed for the counter, and then stopped short, immediately recognizing a familiar goth seated in one of the booths in the corner, eyes focused on a book in her hand as her mug sat beside her, seemingly untouched.

It took you a moment to pull your eyes away from Wednesday before you walked over to the counter, ordering yourself a hot chocolate as you let your bag drop to the floor. Pulling off your tight latex gloves, those of which you shoved in your pocket, you paid for your hot chocolate, thanking the kid working there, and headed straight for the table in the back.

When you approached her, you watched as Wednesday’s eyes didn’t move from what she was working on as she spoke. “Done already?”

“I should be,” you huffed, taking a sip of the hot chocolate. “It’s too damn hot.”

The raven raised an eyebrow, narrowing her eyes. “So you’re not done.”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head, “I’ve been working for like three hours; it’s a cruel punishment.”

“Lucky you,” she muttered, turning back to her work as she spoke, writing a little bit more. Without asking, you slid into the booth opposite her, not noticing her turn on the page faltering slightly as you did so, adjusting yourself comfortably as you placed your hot chocolate down.

Not feeling much of a need to say anything, you just stayed silent, laying against the cool cushioned padding of the booth and taking a well deserved break, the sound of customers murmuring, coffee cups clinking, and the turning of pages doing well to add to the comfortable atmosphere.

You two both sat there in silence; Wednesday never once speaking as she worked, you relaxing with your eyes half closed, not noticing the raven’s eyes flicking up to observe you every now and then. 

It was the most peace you had gotten the whole week and it felt good.

And you couldn’t deny that you were maybe watching Wednesday too. You weren’t being creepy at all, but you were just always drawn to those dark brown eyes, always filled with focus and concentration, and the sea of freckles dotting her cheeks. The way she read every single line as if she truly wanted to understand it; how she took notes every now and then, muttering under her breath as she did so. Hadn’t you ever called her pretty before? Because she definitely was.

The silence lulled on until it was broken by the ringing of the bell to the entrance of the shop, you turning your head to see Enid followed by Yoko enter; as the blonde spotted you and Wednesday, immediately that stupid grin came over her face; the one that you knew too well; she was up to something.

You rolled your eyes and turned away, returning to drinking peacefully and reluctantly realizing that this peace wasn’t going to last as long as you hoped.

You heard the sound of Enid skipping over to where you and Wednesday were sitting as Yoko approached the counter, with a cheerful “hiya, Willa! Didn’t know that when you left this morning you were going out for coffee with Y/N?” The blonde waggled her eyebrows suggestively, a smirk on her face as she looked between you two. Oh, she was so dead.

You had to bite down a smirk of your own as you saw Wednesday stiffen even more than she usually was, slowly looking up from her book to glare at Enid. Oh, if looks could kill the blonde would be six feet under right now, although both you and Enid knew that she’d never follow through on any threats she might make. 

“I’m merely reading. I had no intention on Y/N being here, nor is this any form of…” - the raven paused, her eyes scrunching up slightly in disdain as she refused to say the word - “affectionate interaction. Y/N was fulfilling her assigned punishment and happened to interrupt me.”

This time you actually smirked when you saw Enid’s smug smile disappear and you stuck your tongue out at her, though that promptly resulted in you catching an elbow thrown into your side, you letting out an ‘oof’, and doubling over as Wednesday smirked slightly.

“You’re skimping out on your service?” Enid asked, tilting her head slightly in exasperation. “If Weems catches you…”

You cut her off, “even if she does find out, she’s got a soft spot for me. At the least I’ll get a detention. Simple.”

You heard Wednesday scoff softly, though she stayed silent otherwise.

Yoko shortly returned, with two drinks in hand, giving one to Enid. You watched as through her shades the vampire’s eyes studied both you and Wednesday, a tiny smirk appearing on her face, eyebrow raising slightly as she glanced between you two. Nodding once at the raven, who didn’t respond, as well as you, she gave Enid a little nudge on the shoulder. “Come on, E, let’s give ‘em some space.”

You watched as Enid gave you and Wednesday a wave goodbye, the latter of which met both Yoko and Enid with a glare that could’ve easily frightened any grown man. Both Enid and Yoko exited, leaving you and Wednesday alone.

“Idiots”, she muttered under her breath, eyebrows furrowed in slight annoyance. You chuckled softly and leaned back in the booth, resuming your own little trance of being comfortably aware of everything around you, your sensitive hearing picking up every single noise. The clinking of coffee cups. The sound of the machine whirring and hissing every now and then. The turning of pages. Soft murmurs of conversation. 

It almost made you forget about the conversation you’d had earlier with that man.

It was after another good thirty minutes that you glanced down at your phone as it pinged, receiving a text from Weems notifying you that she would be picking you up in estimately thirty minutes.

Which meant that you had to leave. 

Damnit.

Sliding out of the booth, you glanced at your phone and then at the door, sighing with disappointment as you grabbed your hot chocolate and downed the rest of it easily. You noticed how Wednesday’s eyes briefly flicked up to you as you started pulling your gloves on. “Going to complete your procrastinated duties?”

You nodded grimly with a small sigh, “I’m sure as hell not getting another detention this week.”

She hummed ever so softly, eyes falling back to her paper as she deadpanned, “if your behavior isn’t corrected than you surely will be.”

You didn’t even hesitate to give her a small kick to the shin, which was met with a harder one to yours in response, you groaning “don’t be a dick.”

Finishing with pulling your gloves on, you rubbed your sore shin with a grimace, shooting her a dirty look, though you had to look away to stop yourself from laughing, rolling your eyes at her smirk. You walked backwards with your bag, sticking your tongue out at her, causing her to roll her own eyes in response and return to her book as you exited the cafe, a grin on your face and the heat of the sun on your back not as prominent in your mind as it was before.

In your mind, you could still hear her turning the pages

—————

pt.3 here!

[emsgwenstan]

Holding on to our family

{Larissa Weems x fem niece reader.}

Words: 2k

Warnings: flashbacks, angst, hurt.

Note/summary: after Larissa’s death, y/n heads back to nevermore to tie some loose end or attempt to anyway.

2 miles to Jericho. That’s it. You know how far the township is from the airport like the back of your hand, but for the first time you wish you didn’t because then the sickening feeling wouldn’t be so prominent. You remember the first time you traveled to Vermont from London, you were 14 and she happily greeted you at the station in Burlington.

The sun was unwelcomly shining and casting rays through the branches, she loved the sun, the shadows whipping over the car from the ungodly speed you were doing. “Auntie lissa I’m scared.” You said. “Just go slow sweetheart, I’ll tell you when to change gears.” She smiled. “Ok, oh my- don’t you get scared passing other cars!” You shrieked. “You will be fine just concentrate on your side of the road. I promise you will be ok.” She said. And you believed her. If only she could see you now.

Passing by the Jericho sign you slowed down to take the turn off for nevermore’s drive way. ‘12 minutes’, you thought opting not to speed trying to drag it out for as long as you can. Once the iron gates came into view, your heart paced quicker. The nostalgia filled your senses as you recall how your nevermore days were the best of your life, you had friends, you did well in school, you had the privilege of having a single dorm with your own space and privacy and it was all thanks to her.

Larissa was the one who helped you on your darkest days, lightest and every other one in between, it started from the day you were born, your mother was absent and you father was always busy with his company and running off with his abundance of secretaries. She is- well was your fathers sister, your aunt consequently, but you forgot that most of the time, she was more like both the parents you needed in one, every holiday she would come back to the uk and visit, doing everything she possibly could, like teaching you to drive.

Putting the car in park in the lot that displays ‘reserved for principle L.W.’ You stepped out, the whole 6 feet of you, plus the extra inches from the heels you had on, straightened your blazer, did up the button then smoothed out your signature Weems, platinum blonde hair. The cobblestone clacking the whole trek, as expected once you rounded the corner many eyes set on your figure, students and teachers all going quiet and whispering to each other. Some you still remember.

Not stopping until you climbed the stairs to her office you made it on top of the mezzanine, your eyes flicked to her hanging portrait on one of the far walls. Pacing to the painting you admired it for a moment before you slid it aside to retrieve the spare key. For the first time in two years you stepped through the threshold of her office, it felt weird, wrong, the fire wasn’t alight, her laptop wasn’t resting on top of her desk, but everything else remained in exact place as the last time you saw it.

You walked around the desk to sit in her chair, just like you had many times before. “Here my sweet, sit here, it will be easier to do your homework.” She’d say. “Thanks lissa, you’re not leaving though?” You asked. “No, I am done for the day, but I’ll be right here on the lounge reading for a bit.” She said coming to stand behind your place in her chair, she pressed a kiss to the top of your head and walked over to lay down with her heels removed and legs slung over the edge of the couch. How you missed her.

As you sat tears started to well in your eyes, you discarded your sunglasses tossing them onto the table and rubbed at your eyes. Just then the door rang with a gentle knock. “Y/n?” A small voice asked as the door cracked open. Lifting your head from your hand a small smile graced your face. “Enid, hi.” You said standing, walking over to her with open arms. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come up here.” She said coming into your embrace. “Yeah well I had to some time.” You said. “I missed you.” She huffed into your chest. “I missed you to little lycan.” You said pulling back with wet eyes and a sniff. “Heeyyy, I love the hair.” You said groggily playing with the pink and blue tips. “Thanks.” She said sadly.

A moment went by when she spoke again. “I miss her too.” She said looking around the room. “Yeah.” You mumbled. A noise emanated through the door, you looked at Enid quizzically. “Um that’s Wednesday.” She said spinning on the spot and going to open the door, the girl really was like a storm cloud, literally black and white, just like how Larissa had explained. “Hello Wednesday.” You greeted. She peered at you unblinking until she looked you up and down. You extended a hand for her to shake and hesitantly she did so. “Y/n Weems, I’m Larissa’s niece.” You explained. “She told me a lot about you… don’t worry I don’t bite.” You said looking at Enid. “Well biting isn’t really a worry for you I suppose is it.” You said trying to ease the awkwardness. The look on Enid’s face was priceless, completely red. Wednesday on the other hand her scowl dropped immediately. “Hey that’s what happens when your added to this one’s close friends story on instagram.” You said giggling.

“You look like her.” Wednesday spoke, most likely her way of a shot at a compliment. “Thanks.” You said. “Ok wens we should go now.” Enid said dragging Wednesday behind her. “Horrified to meet you Wednesday.” You said, she peered over her shoulder and smirked, that gave you hope in possibly being on her good side. The door closes behind them and you paced to the middle of the room. ‘Guess I should consolidate with the staff.’ You thought with a sigh. “You will be fine, I know you don’t like talking to people but I’ll be right there the whole time, just waiting in the car.” She said. “I’m so nervous.” You expressed fixing your necklace in the mirror. “I know but you will feel so happy and relieved when you’re done.” She said standing behind you giving a squeeze to your shoulders. “What if they say they don’t want me as an employee?” You asked. “They would be silly not to consider you.” She said guiding you towards the door. In the end you got your first job at the mayor’s office as the receptionist, all thanks to the encouragement of her.

A while later finally finished meeting and greeting a few of the staff to let them know you will be staying for the week, all of them looked at you sympathetically as if they felt sorry for you, but you knew even when Larissa didn’t express it, that not one of them knew her or even cared enough try take some of the schools stress off her. You saw how it would take a toll, how tired she would be but never gave up and she never gave up on you. “Try again.” She nodded. You shifted for the second time and became the spitting image of your father. “Oh dear-.” She laughed, you cackled at the situation. “Out of everyone to pick.” She continued to laugh. “Ok your turn auntie lissa.” Your 15 year old self said shifting back to yourself and perching on her bed.

You hadn’t bothered to go backdown to the car and bring up your bags yet, when you return into the office you go straight to her quarters door. That damn door, how a piece of wood can be so imposing is beyond you, although once the door is unlocked and the hinges creak open you may never walk back out. You slid the key into the hole and twisted until it unlocked, you lent up against the architrave and observed the room, again everything in its place. Pacing inside you went and flopped on her bed, toeing off your heels and kicking them off the mattress, you snatched one of her pillows and hold it to yourself curling your legs up towards your stomach.

For the next hour you laid in the same position hugging onto the pillow like a life line, her sent still remaining. Pachouli, bergamot, vanilla and almost the faint smell of English breakfast tea. You scrolled through the photos in your phone’s gallery, seeing the ones from when you were born and an early twenties Larissa holding you, looking down at you as if her whole world just lit up. The timeline continued on all the way up to your early graduation from college, with Larissa holding onto your waist and you with an arm slung around her shoulders. You turn off your phone and break down sobbing into the pillow.

———

Two days have passed and all you had done is go through Larissa’s photos, clothes, trinkets and make up. You would take one piece of jewellery and wear it during the day just to feel a little bit closer to her, then when night came you would place it back in the exact spot you had taken it from. Nothing was boxed or packed, you couldn’t find it within you to place her things in a crammed space and send them home, this is what she has to show for her life and packing it away didn’t feel like an option.

Over the next two days you hung out with Wednesday and Enid, taking them into town, going to the weathervane, or just for a drive. You never really noticed how much you missed nevermore until now, unless perhaps it wasn’t the school that you truly missed, the memories are bittersweet, only now do they feel tarnished and painful, nevertheless it’s nice to know that you have a home a true home that comes with a chosen family, on the outings with the girls you were mistaken for being Enid’s older sister, to which you’d correct, though the mistake can be made since she’s 16 and you 23, only 7 years apart.

Returning back to school grounds you opted for a walk down to the lake, it felt like just yesterday you had won the Poe cup, having Larissa cheer you on from the side lines. You remember that even before you celebrated with your team you ran straight to her and embraced her with a joyful scream. It was nearing dawn and you decided to go back to your- her room, where you could use sleep as a procrastination.

“Larissa I’m an adult I can do anything I want!” You yelled. “Yes daring I know that but-.” She began. “No! Stop trying to keep me here, I want to go and experience things myself, I will not be rooted in one place like you, I actually need a life!” You exclaimed. Larissa straightened up and cleared her face of hurt emotions, turning into a stern look. “Fine.” She said. Your stomach churned. How disappointed she is. However you stuck it out and left, but before you could reach the door Larissa stopped you and wrapped her arms around your neck and breathed an I love you, one you didn’t return.

You sat up straight in bed gasping as the memory fades from your eyes, you look around to see the dimly lit room still and quiet through watery vision. “I’m sorry.” You whispered into the room. “I’m so so sorry… I love you too, I love you so much.” You said with your voice breaking and your throat sore. It displayed 3:02am on the clock resting on the bedside, you dragged yourself up and out of the tangled sheets to make a tea for yourself wrapping a blanket over your shoulders and back to keep warm.

With the beverage in hand you sat on the floor leaning against the end of the bed in front of the fire place, you were exhausted, the loop of the memory on repeat making every run through more painful. It was true the whole thing was real, you had been irrationally irritable that day, when you visited Larissa to tell her you were thinking of travelling alone across the world, the worst part was that Larissa was the one who actually encouraged you to travel and explore but to be careful and safe and yet you threw her support and generosity and care back in her face as if she were a monster. 

It only took 2 weeks until you were back in contact with one another, Larissa was relieved to know you were ok and you were relieved she forgave you as well as listened to every ‘I’m sorry’ you had to offer. Turns out going back to London to pack and prepare without her wasn’t fun or adventurous at all, if you were to do something, anything, you wanted to share the experience with her, because Larissa wasn’t just your aunt, no, she was practically your mother, roll model and your best friend. That was the last time you visibly saw her, two whole years ago, you would do anything to go back and wrap yourself around her frame and never let her go.

With the tea finished and cup discarded, you went back to bed in hopes of a restful sleep, but of course you weren’t that lucky. The next morning you felt tired and drained in every way, you spent the day walking the grounds, visiting Ophelia hall to see Wednesday and Enid, and finally ending the day with sitting on the floor of Larissa’s walk in closet to flip through the box she kept her year book, newspaper clippings and sentimental things, but it wasn’t just hers it was your things to, the nevermore newspaper from 6 years ago when you had been early excepted into a prestigious university, the hair clips she would put in your hair every time she came to visit when you were little, Polaroids from over the years and dated notes from significant days in the past.

“Y/n, are you ok sweetheart?” She asked looking up at you from her arm chair in the corner of her room. “Yeah…” you said quietly, looking down. “I wanna tell you something.” You murmured. Larissa slotted the bookmark in between the pages of her book and gave you her undivided attention, you pulled out a piece of paper and gave it to her to unfold. “I can’t say it.” You said pacing about the room. You could hear her unfolding the paper and the silence that followed, but a giggle interrupted the raging thoughts in your mind. “Oh darling… that’s ok, that’s wonderful, you shouldn’t be afraid to tell me such a thing. Come here.” She said, you turned and walked to her with your head down, as you sat lightly on her lap snuggled into her chest and tightly wrapped arms, she spoke again. “I love you no matter who or what you love, if you’re interested in girls or boys, vampires or werewolves I don’t mind……. can I tell you a secret?” She asked. “Yeah.” Larissa inhaled and slowly exhaled before she whispered in your ear. “Really?!” You said sitting upright. “Mhmm.” She smiled. “Oh, I was wondering why you didn’t like that nice man we spoke to at the grocery store the other day.” You said, in response Larissa laughed.

11/5/2019- y/n came out to me!

You traced her cursive handwriting at the bottom of the note you handed to her that day with a smile and placed it back in the box as well as putting the lid back on. Standing back up and turning the light off, you had a strange feeling that something wasn’t right, but ignored it. You grabbed the blanket from the bed and threw it over yourself going towards the office to turn off the lamps and stoke the fire before a knock on the door was heard. Walking over to it you opened the door to be met with one of the staff holding a few papers.

“Evening y/n, these were dropped off this afternoon, I thought I should bring them to you… sorry it’s late and I interrupted.” She said holding out the stack. “No it’s ok Melanie, I appreciate that thank you.” You said taking papers. “You have a relaxing night.” She said turning on her heels to leave. “You too.” You said closing the door. Wonderful, just what you wanted, letters with principal applicants, schedules of new school developments, an obituary form and a mediocre memorial service for Larissa. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” You said. Somehow you internally corrected yourself with the word ‘language’ as if you could hear the statement about to come from her.

Another knock, you rolled your eyes. “Come in.” Nothing but a stretch of silence. “Melanie, if you forgot to tell me something you can come in.” You said walking back to the door. Nothing could have prepared you for what lye behind it, you opened the door and the wind was knocked from you lungs. No. This isn’t real. “Wow, I’m going insane.” You said peering into those bright cerulean eyes, dropping the blanket from your shoulders. When her hand extended to cup your cheek, almost immediately tears ran down your cheeks. “You’re not real.” You breathe. She stepped closer to run her other hand over your hair. You could feel her. You could see her. You could smell her.

You stood still as if you could blink to hard and she’d be gone. “Hello my darling girl.” She said with a smile. As brief as it may be and as much as you didn’t want to you rubbed your eyes knowing she will be gone in a moment trying to flea from this torment…and yet her grip stayed prominent, her smell still lingers and her form remained. You were in pure shock, you brought your shaking hands to her face to trace at it just to be sure. She was there, she was here, she was home and she was finally back exactly where she’s supposed to be, with you.

“I have a lot to explain, but firstly…” she began. “I love you.”

@sabraaabra

[evermoreseries]

EVERMORE

evermoreseries.tumblr.com

(Modern!KAS!Eddie Munson x Werewolf!POC)

Multi-Part Series

Synopsis: After trying and failing to teach himself restraint and control, Eddie is shipped off to Jericho, Vermont, to Nevermore Academy. While studying and relearning the world, he quickly learns that he is not alone. The world is actually full of magical, supernatural beings just like him, monsters of fiction, creatures of tale. Along his journey, he makes new friends and new life-long bonds. He even gets to enjoy a little 'Hellfire' at his new school. For once in his life, Eddie seems to be thriving in school, but, unfortunately, not everything good stays that way for long. Some very unwanted, unwelcome things start to resurface from Eddie's past. When people around town start to show up dead or reported missing, Eddie and his new group of friends are forced to embark on an adventure to potentially save the town and, possibly, the world.

Series Rating: M (Mature), Adult Language and Themes, Gore and Violence, Characters Age Range 13+.

Warnings! Mentions and Explicit Depictions of: Split Personalities, Character Death, Murder, Violence, Magic, Supernatural Elements and Beings, Manipulation, Depression, Anxiety, PTSD, Bodily Transformations, and Corruption.

OC Description: No Mentions of Height, Weight. Mentioned at 18 y/o. Mentioned to have shoulder/collarbone length natural/curly hair and braided hairstyles. Mentioned to be physically fit for running/fighting/battle. She/They Pronouns. Mentioned to have dated a man in past. Intended to be of African decent/mixed race. Given Name: Laika "Reid" Reider.

Upside Down Canon, Stranger Things Season 4-5 AU.

World References

Welcome to Evermore The Slayers Club

Chapters

Preface Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Additional Chapters Coming Soon!!

Extras

OC Q&As More Coming Soon!!

Evermore Tag List (OPEN):

@ali-r3n @mother-oshun @madelynraemunson @starmilks @ohmeg @avidreader73 @evileyeandthecattywhumps

[woodandwaxwings]

Behind Blue Eyes

"He couldn't help but look at him and search for those familiar blue eyes he had come to love only for them to be not there, for doe brown eyes to be in the place of his favorite watercolor blues."

Warnings: PTSD attack towards the end. loosely described though.

(masterlist) (next)

Y/n sighed as the bus he was taking stopped outside Jericho's bus stop. Now he had to commit to leaving Florida and the other peculiars he had grown up with, went to war with. Now he was in Vermont in a small town nobody but peculiars and outcasts would give more than half a shit about. Y/n smiled as 'you can tell she's a princess' from some Barbie movie he had never bothered to watch came from his phone, garnering odd looks as he picked up the phone. "Hey, Claire. I see you've finally learned how a phone works." Claire laughed on the other end, "Shut up! Are you there yet?" Y/n could almost imagine her twisting the honey-blonde curls she let grow out between her fingers. "I just got off the bus in Jericho. Do you know how far Vermont is from Florida? Really far." Y/n walked down the streets of Jericho, probably looking like he had just escaped an old film with his luggage bag he'd had since 1939 before being sent off to Miss Peregrine it was garnered in stickers Abe had sent with his letters to Emma. His outfit didn't help much despite Jake taking him shopping not long after arriving in Florida. With his flare jeans and corduroy jacket, he looked like someone had let one of the characters from That 70s Show loose in a mall. And his tattoos of course didn't help the strangers in small town Jericho from staring.

"How's school in Florida?" Y/n asked Claire as he entered a small coffee shop. After all the traveling, he was thirsty and tired and could go for some coffee. "Oh my bird, it's awesome! I've made so many friends..." He let Claire rant as he ordered a coffee from a long-haired brunette boy behind the counter. Y/n smiled and gave the boy a "thank you," as he handed him his coffee. He heard someone yell at Claire over the phone as he set down in a booth facing the entrance of the coffee shop. "Hey, Y/n, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later, ok? Remember, don't be weird. Mwah," He smiled as he shut off his phone after she hung up and drank his coffee to regain the energy he had lost from the travel. "Where'd you come from?" Y/n looked up from his coffee to see another brunette boy with short hair. "Florida," Y/n spoke, her German accent pushing through his words making the boy laugh as he sat across from him uninvited. "Diese Schlampe,"(this bitch) Y/n murmured to himself. "Doesn't sound like it," The boy across from him said.

Y/n rolled his eye as he looked at the clock, "Ich habe keine Zeit dafür."(I don't have time for this) He said as he stood up and grabbed his bag, the boy across from him standing as well. "No seriously, where'd you come from." "Germany, then Wales, then Florida." He said as he pushed passed the boy in front of him, leaving the coffee shop and the annoying boy behind. He had only been there for about 30 minutes and he was already starting to hate this town, but a promise is a promise. He watched a different bus stop at the bus stop and several kids in uniforms exit. He knew he was supposed to get on that bus but as he looked for the driver's eyes, only for them to be concealed by dark sunglasses he decided right then it would be a better idea to walk to Nevermore. He'd take possible haunted woods over wights any day. He began to walk in the direction that the bus had come from, his fingers shaking as he had to turn his back to the man, mentally preparing himself to trigger his peculiarity hollows be damned.

"Well, look who decided to step out of the 40s." Y/n turned on his heels as he recognized the voice from behind him. "Yoko, hallo." She and the girl on her side walked up to him. "Was machst du in Jericho?" (What are you doing in Jericho) She asked him. Y/n vaguely remembered Yoko from his early years in the children's home before it became his loop. Her fathers were friends with Miss Peregrine. "Wieso bist du nicht tot?"(How are you not dead) She asked as she looked him over, noticing that he was 17 and not 13 or dirt. "The library is gone." He answered in English, noticing Yoko's companion's confusion. "It's real?" Y/n shrugged, "Was real." Yoko noticed his eyes darting back to the bus behind them. "Er ist ein Mensch." (he is human.) Yoko said and watched as his shoulders relaxed. "Benutzen Sie den Bus. (use the bus) It's faster than walking." Y/n nodded as he walked past them and got on the bus. "Another bus ride," Y/n thought to himself as he sat down and the bus began made its way back to Nevermore.

"Sorry for scarin' ya' kid." Y/n looked away from the window and to the bus driver. "You're not the first peculiar kid to try walkin' to Nevermore instead of getting on my bus." Y/n nodded, "Sorry for assuming." The bus driver shook his head as he stopped at the school, "Never apologize for being safe." Y/n nodded as he got off the bus, "Thanks for the ride." The bus driver nodded, "Just doin' my job." Y/n gave the man a smile as he walked through the front entrance of Nevermore. He sighed. If only Victor was here with him if only this was 20 years ago. "if only"s could go on forever, but here he was alone. "Hi," He looked down at the boy who spoke to him. "Hi," He looked the young boy up and down, he could only be about 14. "I'm Eugene Ottinger, peculiar. Principal Weems thought you would be more comfortable with one of us leading you around, and I was the only one available." Y/n nodded as he ranted he reminded him a lot of Millard. "I heard you came from a loop. Is that true? I've never been in a loop before. What can you do? I have a psychic connection to bees," Y/n followed behind him as the young boy guided him around the school. He suddenly stopped, "This is Weems's office. She'll get you enrolled and show you to your dorm." Y/n nodded as he knocked on the door, Eugene leaving him behind.

"You must be Y/n L/n." A tall blonde woman, who Y/n assumed was Principal Weems, said as she opened the door. "Come in," She pulled the door further open, letting him walk into her office. "Very rarely do we ever get peculiars here." Y/n nodded, "Most of us stick to loops instead of school." Weems nodded as she sat behind her desk. "School doesn't start for another 3 days so you should have plenty of time to get situated." She said as Y/n looked around her office. "Do I have to buy a uniform or are they provided?" Y/n asked as he finally sat down on the other side of her desk. "They are provided." Principal Weems set a paper down facing him, "You've already registered so no need for any mindless paperwork. I'll give you you uniform before showing you to your dorms and then your roommate can give you a tour of the school." Y/n nodded as Miss Weems stood and grabbed a purple box that was set off to the side. "Nevermore's welcome package," She said as she handed it to Y/n. "Shall I show you to your dorm room now?" She asked but it wasn't really a question as she opened the door to her office and gestured for him to exit.

"Nevermore prides itself on being a diverse learning environment for all of it's attendants." Weems began the welcome speech spiel. "You'll find that all of our outcasts intermingle well," Her words were said in a tone that screamed 'behave'. "And that is something our school would like to continue to pride itself on." Y/n nodded as she walked down the dormitory halls, "You'll be rooming with Ajax Petropolus." Weems said as she opened the door to one of the dorm rooms, "Who does not appear to be here," She mumbled under her breath as she let Y/n into the room. As Y/n set his suitcase and "welcome package" down on the bare twin bed on the right side of the dorm a boy rushed into the room. "Sorry," He said to both him and the principal as he fixed his beanie. "Hi, Ajax," He stuck his hand out for Y/n to shake and that's when he really got a look at him. Shit, he was screwed. The universe must hate him because he couldn't help but look at him and search for those familiar blue eyes he had come to love only for them to be not there, for doe brown eyes to be in the place of his favorite watercolor blues.

"Y/n," He finally said when he realized he was staring, hesitantly shaking his hand. "Cool," Ajax said, seemingly oblivious. "I'll leave you to get situated," Weems said as she left, shutting the door behind her. Y/n then stepped back and walked back to his side of the room, "What happened to your previous roommate?" He asked as he opened his luggage bag, placing the framed picture of him and Victor face down on his bedside table. "He graduated," Ajax said as he sat on his own bed. "So what's your deal?" Y/n paused in his unpacking, turning to face his roommate, "What?" Ajax shrugged, "Y'know, what's your thing? Are you a psychic? Werewolf?" Y/n nodded, "Oh. I'm peculiar." Ajax shrugged, "Well I wouldn't say peculiar, but you do dress a little weird." "Bist du dumm?" (Are you stupid?) Y/n asked as he shoved his clothes into the dresser drawer that also seemed to be a table. "Excuse me?" Ajax shook his head. "I'm peculiar, as in that's my thing." Ajax just gave him a confused stare. "Forget it. Aren't you supposed to give me a tour of the school or something?"

The gorgon shot up from his bed, "Right! Sorry, forgot." Y/n felt almost disoriented as he watched Ajax. Everything about him was exactly the same but so different to Victor, like the reflection in a distorted mirror came to life. "So this is one of four dormitory halls. There are two girls' dormitories and two boys' dormitories." Ajax begins as he exits the room, expecting Y/n to follow him and he does. "Nevermore was founded by Nathaniel Faulkner in 1791, the dormitories being added on in 1840 and were renovated in 1940." Y/n nodded as he followed Ajax down the stairs to the courtyard. "I'm not going to have to memorize any of this, am I?" Y/n watched as his brown eyes went wide like a deer in the headlights, "Huh? Oh, no. It's just a bunch of crap." Y/n looked around the courtyard to find it almost barren. "I figured there'd be more people here." Ajax looked over the courtyard as well, "Yeah, most people will be showing up tomorrow to get unpacked and stuff. Oh yeah, um, this is the courtyard. Mostly everyone eats their meals here." The two walked around the courtyard to an Edgar Allen Poe statue. "This is our statue in tribute to Edgar Allen Poe, I'm like 90% sure he was like an alumni."

"I don't give a shit about Edgar Allen Poe," Y/n said as he looked Ajax up and down. "Do we have to wear our uniforms all the time?" Ajax shrugged, "I mean most people tend to wear theirs while on campus." Y/n nodded. "So is that a no? yes?" The two stared at each other for a moment, and then a short blonde girl approached them. "Hey, Ajax!" She spoke excitedly. Both boys turn to face her as if being snapped out of a trance. "Oh hey, Enid. " Ajax looked between the two people in front of him. "Enid this is Y/n." HE pointed to Y/n and then pointed to Enid, "Y/n this is Enid. She's a werewolf." Y/n nodded and stuck his hand out for the girl to shake. Enid shakes his hand but doesn't let go of it. "Oh my gosh!" She turns his hand over so the back of his hand is facing upward. "I love your tattoo! Is it real?" Y/n could practically imagine a tail wagging behind her. "Yeah. A friend of mine chose it for me. She said to just use my peculiarity with it whenever I miss her."

Ajax furrows his brows as he leans to look at the thickly lined butterfly. "What can you do?" He and Enid asked almost in sync. Y/n smiled a cheeky smile as he placed his other hand over the top of the one Enid still had a tight grip on. "Wach auf."(Wake up) He whispered before removing his hand to reveal a live black and white butterfly sitting on his hand where the tattoo was. Enid giggled as the butterfly flew up to her nose, following Y/n's eyes as he mentally guided it. "Cool," Enid mumbled as it sat on her face. She jumped as Y/n swatted his hand out to grab the insect and the two watched as the tattoo faded back onto his hand. "Sweet. It's kinda like Xavier's powers." Y/n nodded despite not knowing who they were talking about. There then was a sudden boom that resembled a cannon being fired or a boulder falling. Y/n's heart picked up as he squeezed his eyes shut and slammed his hands so hard over his ears that they began to ring. Memories he wished he did a better job at pushing down came flooding to the surface as he grew lightheaded.

[hislittleraincloud]

Good writing involves a lot of math.

Goody writing, in particular.

I decided that I needed to go back to pencil and paper for my bigger world map. Yes, it's for After the Burn, but it's still important to lay down lines before trying to color them in, and since the background is pretty important to what I'm trying to write now, I've got to actually make maps.

I was never a history major (probably one of the only humanities that I didn't major or minor in in college), but I've always been a history buff/nerd. My bigger areas of interest were the American Civil War and WW2, but in the broader sense I love the world during the English Elizabethan Era and the Italian Renaissance. Pretty standard stuff, though my father had several books about the Vietnam War since he was a medic (an area I was meh on until I chose it for my final project in International Relations).

However, I grew up in the #1 state for education (not fucking Florida, that's all serious bullshit), so I was subjected to a lot of thick stuff when very young, particularly everything about the settling of America by the British (I learned about the Boston Massacre when I was in the 2nd Grade...because I lived near Boston 💩). We even had a frickin place like Pilgrim World that we took field trips to (Old Sturbridge Village, though it was more like the field trip they took in the movie Billy Madison 😂). By the time I did get to high school, American Revolutionary history just didn't interest me...I was over it.

But of course, life is one giant circle of Hell of its own, so I find myself going back to that period of time so that I can craft a story that doesn't sound like I'm winging it. I don't mind it though, because it's been a while and it's for a good cause. Four hundred years+ of world building is a good cause.

If you think that what I'm doing with Wenovan is fkd up....

[remusjohnslupin]

NEVERMORE ACADEMY The Nevermore Academy, often shortened to Nevermore, is an American academy for outcasts, located in the state of Vermont, not far from the town of Jericho. Nevermore was founded in 1791 on the lands of Joseph Crackstone after he was killed by Goody Addams (after 1625).

[gardenoblues]

Kinbott: How's your week going Tyler? Anything you'd like to share?

Tyler: Well...

Tyler: I saw this really cute girl at the coffee shop the other day, so naturally I've got my eye on her. I followed her to the counter and made sure I get to serve her coffee, and when she gave me her card, I memorized her name, even her card number. I googled her and went through my old man's stuff to find her criminal records, turns out she placed piranhas in a swimming pool, was expelled, and transferred to a nearby school here in Jericho, Vermont. Anyways, I went through her whole family tree and found out her dad's record as well. I gave it to her to convince her to stay, as well as leaving trails of dismembered body in the wounds that may suit her liking. And oh. I also killed her classmate just to make her experience here fun and worthy.

Kinbott: ...huh.... such a productive week for you then?

Tyler: Yup! So excited! I think she's the one.

[swiss-mrs]

EVERMORE

(Modern!KAS!Eddie Munson x POC!Werewolf!OC)

Multi-Part Series

Synopsis: After trying and failing to teach himself restraint and control, Eddie is shipped off to Jericho, Vermont, to Nevermore Academy. While studying and relearning the world, he quickly learns that he is not alone. The world is actually full of magical, supernatural beings just like him, monsters of fiction, creatures of tale. Along his journey, he makes new friends and new life-long bonds. He even gets to enjoy a little 'Hellfire' at his new school. For once in his life, Eddie seems to be thriving in school, but, unfortunately, not everything good stays that way for long. Some very unwanted, unwelcomed things start to resurface from Eddie's past. When people around town start to show up dead or reported missing, Eddie and his new group of friends are forced to embark on an adventure to potentially save the town and, possibly, the world.

Series Rating: M (Mature), Adult Language and Themes, Gore and Violence, Characters Age Range 13+.

Warnings! Mentions and Explicit Depictions of: Split Personalities, Death, Murder, Magic, Supernatural Elements and Beings, Manipulation, Depression, Anxiety, PTSD, Bodily Transformations, and Corruption.

OC Description: No Mentions of Height, Weight. Mentioned at 18 y/o. Mentioned to have shoulder/collarbone length natural/curly hair and braided hairstyles. Mentioned to be physically fit for running/fighting/battle. She/They Pronouns. Intended to be of African decent/mixed race. Given Name: Laika "Reid" Reider.

Upside Down Canon, Stranger Things Season 4-5 AU.

World References

Welcome to Evermore The Slayers Club

Chapters

Preface Chapter One Chapter Two Additional Chapters Coming Soon!!

Extras

Coming Soon!!

Evermore Tag List (OPEN):

@ali-r3n  @mother-oshun @madelynraemunson  @starmilks @ohmeg @avidreader73 @princesssunderworld

Swisslist (General Taglist): @rosecentury @smashingmodels

[alder-saan]

Thunderbolt

Larissa x reader

Warnings: pain descriptions, curse

Word count: 1.8k

A lightning slashed the sky. Four seconds later, the silence was ripped by a deep detonation, and as if the clouds covering the city were a sounding board, you felt your eardrums, and even your hair, vibrating. The sky was heavily bleeding with great clear drops, which came crashing against the bitumen, and your see-through umbrella. It smelled rain, but not the rain in your native countryside, it was bitter. It smelled of drenched tar. The downpour, clouding the yellowish trail of some neon street lamps lights on the ground, probably wanted to drill your shelter as the impact against the plastic was so violent. And next to you, rear lights of hissing cars were leaving long traces of blood on the asphalt.

You have loved thunderstorms since you were a child. And you were almost twenty for your first trip alone. 

No parents, no friends. You were alone. It was a bit frightening but, eh. What could happen to you in Paris?

At the corner of a street, you heard a noise. It was a woman’s voice.

Suddenly, the ground disappeared.

“Toi, qui te moque de nous, les parias, je te maudis. Toi, tu deviendras comme nous, pire que nous. A chaque orage, tu te changeras en monstre, hideux, repoussant. Ceux qui te verront auront si peur de toi qu’ils seront pétrifiés. Que ta malédiction se lève au premier coup de foudre. Pour un paria, évidemment.”

A lightning stabbed your left shoulder. You screamed in fear, and the stench of burnt flesh indicated you were hurt. Automatically, you felt great pain, as if you were scorched with a red iron. You were burning.

You woke up.

Your heart was still racing as you thought about the translation of these words, engraved in your mind since that evening in Paris.

“You, who mock us, the outcasts, I curse you. You, you will become like us, worse than us. With each thunderstorm, you will change into a monster, hideous, repulsive. Those who see you will be so afraid of you that they will be petrified. May your curse rise at the first thunderbolt. For an outcast, obviously.”

You knew those words by heart, although you weren’t sure about the meaning. Especially the last two sentences which didn’t make any sense.

Now, ten years later, you hated thunderstorms.

Today was your first day in Jericho, Vermont. You decided to go there, because of the important outcasts diaspora. Maybe you could find someone who would help you there…

You had no really high hopes. You tried so many things, it just didn’t work. 

You even tried to stand at the top of a tree during a thunderstorm.

A lightning hit you, at the very same spot the witch’s one hit you.

And nothing happened.

You tried to see other witches, but none could lift the curse.

You entered the Weathervane, a local café. You had an appointment with the Principal of Nevermore Academy, Larissa Weems. Although you were not the age for going to Nevermore, you asked her to help you, maybe hire you as a cleaner. You needed help.

And as she was very protective of outcasts, she agreed to see you at least once, and to let you have a chance to talk about your situation.

You were a bit early, and ordered a hot chocolate. Maybe not the more professional thing, but you wanted one.

You watched some tik tok videos on your phone, waiting for her to come. The café was empty. Thursday 3 p.m, this was not the time when there were the most customers. The sun was shining outside and through the window, and it comforted you. The sun was your best friend, now. The only days you felt safe were the sunny ones. And the sunlight brushing your skin… It felt so good. 

The video you were watching showed a guy making a house in the jungle, you didn’t know which one, with only bamboo (or reed, maybe), and mud. And you were so absorbed by it, you didn’t even notice the tall woman entering the Weathervane and sat in front of you.

“Good afternoon, mx L/N, isn’t it?” She politely asked for you to acknowledge her presence.

You looked up and saw her. She was… She was so beautiful, your heart skipped a beat. Her silver hair in a perfect updo, her sky blue eyes, her little nose, her red lips, the little wrinkles you could see as she smiled… She was so beautiful.

“Uh… uh, I-yes, it’s me” You managed to reply.

Good job! You just made a horrible first impression. She certainly was thinking you were stupid. But there wasn’t any mockery in her eyes.

“Oh you asked for hot chocolate? You’re right, they make the best in here.”

So she was the perfect woman, uh?

You felt something in your heart. That wasn’t a skipped heartbeat. It was more… sharp, and painful. 

You knew that pain full well. Soon, it extended into your arm. Your face tightened. You curled up in your seat, holding your arm. You were trying to keep your breath normal, you didn’t want her to see that.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yes… I… It’s a part of the curse… It happens sometimes.” You articulated.

“Do you need something?”

“Thanks, it’ll pass.”

You caught your breath with difficulty. The pain was decreasing, but your heart was still hammering in your chest.

“I’m… I’m better. There will be a thunderstorm tonight.”

“How do you know?”

“My scar warns me.”

“You have a scar?” she asked curiously, and instantly regretted it. “I’m sorry, it’s probably not something you want to talk about…”

“It’s okay.”

You rolled up your sleeve, exposing your scar, stretching down your arm like the thousands of roots of a thousand-year-old tree whose trunk was hidden by your clothes from your shoulder. She gasped.

“Is that… A lightning scar?”

“Yes. Except it’s a witch who casted it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. It’s none of your fault. But I have high hopes you could help me. You probably know much more outcasts than me… Maybe you know someone who could lift it…”

“Of course, I’ll do some research.”

“Thank you.

The waiter gave her her order, although you didn’t see her ask for someone. A hot chocolate, like you. She took a sip, watching outside. The sun was brushing her face. She was so beautiful. You looked at her eyes, her lips, her hand around the big cup, and thought it would look so good around your throat. She turned her head towards you, and you looked away. She let out a chuckle. You went red.

She had just caught you staring. 

“Is your curse dangerous for others? I can’t hire you if you hurt people.”

“Well… yes and no. I hurt people if they see me during a thunderstorm. As _you saw it_ my arm warns me, I can hide before it and so no one is hurt. Telling the truth, I only petrified one person. And when the thunderstorm ended, he came back to life.”

“Mmh, okay, I see.”

You ended up talking about your lives. Larissa was truly fascinating.

“Yeah, I can’t trust any French girl since I have been cursed in Paris.”

“Ugh, don’t talk about French girls…”

“Any bad experience?” You asked.

“Well she played with my feelings. I really thought she loved me but… Well it turned out she just liked when people loved her.”

“I’m sorry for you.” You said, WAIT YOU GAY??? OMG I… I'M GOING TO DIE RIGHT NOW, you thought. “A-a girl did that to me too. She wasn’t French though.” You added, letting her know you were too.

You didn’t miss the smile growing on her face when you said that. And butterflies swarmed in your stomach.

“Anyway, if you want to work for Nevermore, you can have a room for you. We have rooms for one or two. Any partner?”

“Waw, this is the worst way someone ever asked me if I was single,” you laughed, “I am, though.”

She coughed, her cheeks getting pink.

“Well, I think maybe one day we could… you know, have a date.”

“I think too.”

You couldn’t believe it. She was so perfect, and she wanted to date you?

“Oh, and… You’re hired as a cleaner. Don’t think you have to do that to be hired. I wouldn’t want you to… you know.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much!”

She smiled.

“However, when will I be free? For our date, I mean. As I don’t have my schedule yet…”

“Don’t worry, we’ll discuss that in my office.”

“Okay!”

You stood up and went to the counter to pay.

“It’s on me,” you said, “You’ll pay next time.”

She didn’t argue. You thanked the waiter and went out, followed by Larissa. 

“Do you have a car somewhere?” she asked.

“No, I went by bus.”

“Then let me drive you to your new home.”

She walked towards a car, parked near the café. She held the door, and soon, you were in her car. You didn’t notice it in the Weathervane because of the hot chocolate smell, but she had such a lovely scent. Floral, sweet, it suited perfectly the pastel tones of her clothes.

“Do you know exactly when the thunderstorm will begin? Because I checked the weather this morning, it’s supposed to be sunny the whole week.”

“It usually warns me about 2 hours before, So I think we have something like an hour? I’ll just watch the sky, and as soon as it becomes cloudy, I’ll hide in my room. Besides, it never went wrong.”

“We’ll see, I’ll begin with showing you your room.”

Nevermore was for sure an intimidating building. But you liked gloomy manors in the middle of a forest, especially when the head mistress was Larissa Weems. You walked in it, with wide eyes, detailing everything. The nicely criss-crossed parquet on the floor, the statues wisely guarding doors like silent dogs, the principal’s hips swaying while she walked before you… 

“Y/n ?”

“Yes?”

“Can you tell me what you tried to lift your curse? I’ll find help more easily knowing that.”

“I tried to be struck by lightning.”

“What? Why?”

“You, who mock us, the outcasts, I curse you. You, you will become like us, worse than us. With each thunderstorm, you will change into a monster, hideous, repulsive. Those who see you will be so afraid of you that they will be petrified. May your curse rise at the first thunderbolt. For an outcast, obviously.” you imitated the witch

She abruptly stopped.

“Thunderbolt?” 

“Yes.”

“Did she speak in French or in English?’

“In French, why?”

“Did she used ‘coup de foudre’?”

“Er… yes.”

“Oh, lovely, she didn’t talk about thunderbolts.”

“What?”

“It’s a French expression, darling. It means ‘love at the first sight’”

Oh. oh. OH. Well... the curse was lifted then.

______________________________________

DON'T TRANSLATE LITERALLY!

(same for pet names, please)

[tylernation]

Françoise Galpin theories:

Note: this is an AI made image.

She was French-Canadian:

Due to her name, and the close proximity between Quebec and Vermont, I believe that Françoise was French-Canadian.

She never told anyone at Nevermore that she was a Hyde: 

I believe that there was a great stigma surrounding them before they were banned, so I think Françoise kept her identity concealed to avoid being ostracised by her classmates. It would explain why Weems was oblivious to her being a Hyde. 

She had a withdrawn personality:

In relation to my previous theory, due to her keeping her nature a secret, I believe Françoise was reclusive during her time as a student. In fact, I don’t believe she even traveled to Jericho at all unless it was for something necessary like Outreach Day etc. 

She didn’t tell Donovan about what she was, or about her past: 

Before, I believed Françoise and Donovan first met on the night of the 1990 Rave’N, but now I believe that they didn’t meet each other until after her time at Nevermore had been completed. Considering that Donovan mistrusted outcasts in general, it would be unlikely for him to fall in love with one, unless she kept it hidden from him. And due to my previous theory about her never going to Jericho unless it was necessary, there was no way of Donovan, or the people in Jericho from knowing that she was an outcast. Weems knew that she married the sheriff, but probably knew that she wanted to keep her past hidden, so she respected Françoise’s likely wishes. 

She killed a person or people after her Hyde was unleashed: 

The recent S2 leaks that came out stated that Willow Hill Psychiatric Hospital, where Françoise was sent to after her Hyde was triggered, is an asylum for criminally insane outcasts. Which means Françoise might have killed someone, or a bunch of people to end up there, and Donovan covered it up as “bear attacks” like he did for Tyler. 

what are your theories about her?

@thelovelybookworm @fullofwoe5321 @diamantdog @nouklea @slaanesh12 @chrisevansstitties @cosmic-lullaby @jennameatrider