#miranda riddle

[anzuhan]

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

Found this and finally can do polls!

There's a song called Top Of My School that I plan to animate, who does it fit more?

Edward Midford from Black Butler

Riddle Rosehearts from Twisted Wonderland

or Miranda Vanderbilt

[toms-cherry-trees]

"Lessons" || Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: When your husband's attempts at tutoring you fail, he is forced to seek less orthodox ways

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Innuendo, teasing, edging and denial, thigh riding, overstimulation, ass slapping, titty slapping, titty succin, fingering, p in v sex, degradation, breeding kink if you squint, bad teaching techniques

Author’s note: No excuses here. Credits to Sarah @aemondsbabe for the HORN and massive thanks to Miranda @solisarium for the beta read! Requested tag: @marthawrites

Header by the beautiful lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs

Your desperate whimpers and heavy gasps disrupt the silence of the chamber, mixed with the crackling of the logs in the hearth and the rhythmic drumming of your husband’s fingers against the armrest of his seat. He looks so smug and relaxed, leaning back on the chair, his feet well planted on the floor; a heavy, leather bound tome rests on the table beside him, open in the same page it has been for over a fortnight now.

His index taps three times on the book, pointing at a fairly simple written word, but in your brain it reads like the most complex of riddles. Endless hours your husband has devoted to educate you in the beauty and magic of the Valyrian tongue. There would be no greater pride for him than to have his perfect little wife speak the words of his forefathers, to hear the ancient language roll effortlessly out of her beautiful mouth and whisper before others words only for her to comprehend. Yet you quickly proved to be as thick as you are beautiful, and no effort nor technique could get you past the most basics of vocables. This forced him to seek new methods of instruction, which he implemented with utmost enthusiasm and methodic dedication.

You currently are the perfect image of depravity. Your smallclothes lay in a careless heap at his feet, hair free of the intricate style and flowing freely, flyaway strands sticking to your damp forehead and temple. Your robe hangs loosely from your shoulders, giving you a weak resemblance of modesty. The skirt of the nightgown is rucked above your hips, allowing Aemond a prime view as you drag your soaked folds along his clothed thigh, desperately seeking a climax he knows all too well you cannot achieve like that. He knows your thighs tire too soon, he knows you can’t ever get the angle right. But this is the only touch you are allowed until you learn your lessons.

His questions don’t make it to your ears, unable to hear anything above your own broken moans. The first days you tried to comply and learn, to give in your best to please him in that way. But your best efforts melted into naught when he teased you night after night, trailing touches along your skin that ignited fire in your lower belly, only to cruelly deny you while he sought his release in the warmth of your mouth instead of where you needed him the most. 

The motion of your hips stutters as your thighs begin to burn from exertion. Your fingers dig on the flesh of his arms for support, legs shifting just enough to seek a new angle, to find the right pressure you need. But you cannot fool yourself; you need his help.

“Please. Husband, I need you.” Your words are pleading, desire and desperation lacing your tone; your eyes wide and innocent, batting your eyelashes. But your helplessness only amuses Aemond, the corner of his mouth raised on a half smirk. Warm and calloused hands slip the robe off your shoulders and the nightgown away from your frame, leaving you bare before his heated gaze.

“Say it like I taught you, ābrazȳrītsos, and I may consider giving you a little reward.” His thumb brushes across the peaks of your breasts, nipples stiffening immediately at the gentle stimulation. Your nerves are frayed and every gesture pushes you closer to the edge. He rolls the hardened buds between index and thumb, drawing another mewl from your sweet lips, back arching to offer more of your bosom to his touch. Your core throbs in sync with your heart, arousal coating your inner thighs and having left a damp patch in the fabric of his breeches. You rack your brain to find the words he wishes to hear, but it seems your head has been emptied of all thought and logic, leaving only raw and primal desire, an almost animalistic instinct to sate your hunger.

Aemond is quick to pick up the almost dazed look in your eyes, chuckling in delight at your inability to form a coherent thought, all because of him. He brushes his thumb alongside the plushness of your bottom lip, pushing inside your mouth just enough for you to wrap your lips around it and suck dutifully, swirling your tongue around like you had his manhood in you.

“My pretty little wife, so needy for her husband's cock she can't even answer one simple question. Humping and sucking like a wanton whore.”

You whimper around his digit, his words fanning the fire between your legs into a raging inferno. He withdraws his thumb from your mouth, slowly sliding it down your body, leaving behind a shining trail of your saliva. His hand halts just above your mound, darkened eye watching in satisfaction the slight and involuntary buck of your hips, seeking his touch anywhere you can get it. A light swat to your thigh makes you yelp, but the sting is easily forgotten as Aemond’s lips trace the line of your collarbone, settling on the juncture between shoulder and neck and gently sucking at the skin.

With unsurprising ease, Aemond shifts your body until your knees rest on both sides of his legs, your drenched cunt hovering above the tight bulge straining his breeches, almost feeling the heat radiating from it. You swallow thickly, whining loudly as he undoes the lacings and frees his thick cock from the confines of the garments. Fingers wrapped around his girth, he teases the head through your slick folds a few times. Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, entire body tense and trembling with the effort to not grind against him. You know better than to test your luck when he is being so generous. 

“Ñuhus litses ābrazȳrītsos, so wanton and needy for aōhe valzȳrys. Can’t get that beautiful head of yours to work until I fix that problem between your delicious thighs.”

His free hand sneaks between your legs, tracing agonisingly slow circles around your throbbing pearl, making you shudder. You see how much your easily triggered reactions entertain him, the fair lilac of his eye darkened to a purple hue. You are desperate for him, but he is equally delirious for you, that much you can tell when he brings his fingers to his mouth to taste your arousal, his cock twitching in response. You can only hope his need is enough to give in to you.

Two fingers shallowly breach your entrance up to the first knuckle, his thumb pressing down firmly on your pearl while he gauges your reaction. Your eyes squeeze shut and your head falls back, nails digging in your palms, lips parting to elicit a breathy moan. Another question comes to you, but the words never register, and incoherent babbling is all you can gather as a reply. The sharp smack delivered against the supple flesh of your arse snaps you back to your senses, feeling the light sting spread across your skin.

“Eyes on me, kēlītsos. Until I get what I want from those pretty lips of yours, you do as I say. You don’t get to escape me.”

He pelts you with question after question you cannot answer, each failure punished with sharp slaps on your ass, breasts and thighs; some gentle like a caress, others strong enough to make you hiss through your teeth. In between smacks he continues the sweet torture, his touch on you so tender and featherlight it feels like it is just in your imagination. Every time he senses you getting too worked up, he pinches your clit tightly, pulling sharp cries from you intertwined with pleas for mercy.

“Please, husband, please. I can’t hold it anymore. Please,,” You sob, your fingers digging into his shoulders to emphasise your words, and you make a tentative roll of your hips against his hand, hoping he will take pity on your pathetic current state.

He clicks his tongue, the back of his hand dabbing at some tears you hadn’t noticed pooling at the corners of your eyes. Large hands cup your cheeks, thumbs caressing your cheekbones; you lean into his touch instinctively, eyes fluttering close as you take slow breaths to try and regain some control over yourself.

“Dumb little lady you are. So beautiful and so silly. Your head is filled with nothing but flowers and filth.” The slight degradation should sting and wound your pride, but all it does is send a fresh wave of arousal straight to your cunt. “Can’t write Valyrian, can’t read it, not even say the simplest of words without getting all tongue tied. All you are good for is to take Valyrian seed deep in your womb and help spread my bloodline. You would like that, ilībītsos, having my seed take root inside you and grow round and heavy with my children, your breasts full of milk for my heirs. All you know how to do, no?”

You can’t help it, you nod eagerly at his words, hoping this means he will finally relent and allow you release. And it seems all your prayers will be answered when you feel him line the tip of his cock with your awaiting entrance, meeting no resistance as he sinks into you, stopping halfway and delivering yet another smack upon your arse to spur you on like a stubborn mare.

“Ride me.”

You swallow at the command. Your legs are aching still and your energies are weaning, but the promise of putting an end to this most delicious misery is enough to fuel you. You do nothing to stifle your moans as you rock your hips, feeling in you will not last. The hot coil tightens in your belly at a dizzying speed, so taut you feel ready to snap. Wet sounds fill the chamber and your walls flutter around him, breaths coming in short pants. It is so close you can taste it, the one thing you have been so cruelly denied and so ravenously crave. His hand caresses the length of your spine, from the curve of your ass up to between your shoulders. He cradles the back of your neck and pushes your head forward so your forehead rests on his shoulder and his lips are against your ear.

“Stop.”

Aemond’s voice cuts through you like a sword, eyes shooting open and a broken sob coming from your lips. Every nerve urges you to ignore his command and chase your climax, but you don’t. You do as you’re told, letting your body rest in his lap. He questions you again, but you don’t even try to find an answer. You only shake your head, tears beading in your eyelashes while you press tender kisses on the skin of his collarbone. He waits until he feels your body relax, your grip on him loosening.

“Continue.” 

Again you try your best, ignoring the cramps of your muscles and the dull pain of your knees against the chair. And once more, Aemond commands you to stop every time he feels you clenching around him. Each time it is harder to stop, but you do it nevertheless. Not once he tries to restrain you himself, because he knows his good girl does as she is told. Even as the tears run freely down your cheeks and pitiful sobs are the only sound you are capable of. 

“Please.” The quiet, barely audible plea is muffled against his neck, your face burrowed there as exhaustion threatens to overcome you. Your body feels tense like a bowstring, waiting for the smallest of gestures to let go. Your cunt throbs around him, his length and your thighs coated in warm slick. You remain denied yet your pearl is so overworked it feels almost painful to the touch. All ruined for him, without having been allowed a single peak.

“Daor.” He purrs against your neck, nibbling at the skin as he takes hold of your hips, thrusting into you tantalisingly slowly, burying himself to the hilt in your warm heat and withdrawing until only the head remains, making you feel every inch of him. He steadily picks up the pace, alternating between long strokes and shallow thrust, fast and then slow again. He roams your body, kneading your thighs and squeezing your ass, fingertips tracing the dip of your waist and the curve of the hips. His lips capture a nipple, rolling it between his teeth and sucking with gentle pressure, lapping at the pebbled nub.

You are absolutely overwhelmed, losing control of your bearings as the pleasure comes and goes in powerful waves, barely letting you catch breath before threatening to drown you again, never taking you to one extreme or the other. For moments you want it to stop, but you are sure to die if it does. You no longer remember what brought you to this moment. But amidst the fog clouding your mind you manage to scramble out a single word.

“Kostilus.”

His movements come to a halt, and you can practically feel the wicked smirk against the flesh of your breast. He takes his time to leave a trail of open mouthed kisses round your breast and up your chest, trailing the line of your collarbone to your neck, finally settling on your ear. Aemond gives the earlobe a quick nip, while one hand slowly snakes between your conjoined bodies to circle your pearl once more.

“Sȳz riña.”

Your body slackens against him as he picks up speed, already teetering on the edge. It takes no more than a couple powerful thrusts for you to peak, sinking your teeth into his flesh as you scream your release into him, whole body spasming as the waves of blinding pleasure wash over you, filling your veins with a fuzzy feeling you cannot explain, but is as if your soul has elevated to the heavens and left your body behind. It seems you black out for a moment, for when you regain your surroundings once more Aemond has you cradled against his chest, your robe thrown over you to keep you warm. He caresses your back, the soothing motion lulling you back to sleep. Through the grogginess you hear him whisper in your ear

“This is but the first lesson.”

~

ābrazȳrītsos - little wife

Ñuhus litses ābrazȳrītsos - my pretty little wife

aōhe valzȳrys - your husband

kēlītsos - little kitten

ilibitsos - little slut

daor - no

kostilus - please

Syz riña - good girl

[willalove75]

Alcina's New Maid Pt. 23 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: You and Alcina spend a cozy morning in bed before going to pay the prisoner a visit.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI.

Tags: some smut, dash of sub!alci and a little soft!dom reader

Notes: Part 23!

I am SO sorry this has taken LITERALLY over a month for me to finish!! But I think I have a pretty valid excuse, for those of you who didn't see my latest update - I'm pregnant!! And it's a boy! The first trimester was ROUGH, I wasn't vomiting but I was so sick. I'm 17 weeks and am feeling much, much better! (Aside from hip/lower back pain, according to the old wives tales that's common when pregnant with boys lolz) anyway I'm hoping to update much more regularly now that I'm finally feeling better!

Click here for the rest of the series

The morning sunlight filters in through the window, gently waking you from your slumber. The feeling of a heavy arm draped across your stomach let you know that Alcina was still in bed with you. Turning over to face her, you come across a sight you don't see very often - if you've seen it at all. Alcina asleep on her stomach, one arm under her pillow under her head and the other keeping you close. Her usual pristine and perfect curls are sprawled out across the pillowcase with a few rogue strands hanging down into her face.

She looks so peaceful, if not for her size you would think she was human in this moment. Your eyes dance across her sleeping features. Her skin, riddled with scars and marks that she covers up with makeup, her over-plucked eyebrows that she also corrects with makeup are on full display. You notice how long and dark her natural eyelashes are as they rest on the tops of her cheeks. Her full pink lips, the laugh lines that rest at the corners of her mouth, everything about her is so beautiful.

You delicately tuck a strand of hair hanging in her face behind her ear, hoping you don't wake her up. But of course, Alcina is one of the lightest sleepers you've ever met - honestly you're surprised that turning in her arms didn't wake her.

Her eyes flutter open and beautiful gold irises look back at you.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Don't be, I am surprised I fell back asleep."

"Did you get up at all last night?"

"No," she says, shaking her head and pulling you in closer. "I laid here all night with you in my arms. I considered getting some work done but I couldn't bring myself to let you go."

Alcina nuzzles into your hair, taking a deep inhale and exhaling with a content sigh.

It wasn't until her hand rested against your bare back did you realize you were still naked from the events of the night before. You tuck yourself under her chin, trying to get as close as possible. Alcina kisses the top of your head and holds you against her chest. An audible purr rumbles through her as she buries her nose into your hair.

You can feel her purrs vibrate through your body and you can't help but lightly chuckle.

"What are you laughing at?" She asks, nuzzling into you more.

"Nothing, it just seems like both you and the dragon are enjoying yourselves this morning."

Alcina huffs into your hair and shakes her head.

"I suppose we are. It does seem to enjoy your company." She mumbles.

"I have a feeling I am going to enjoy her company as well. As long as she doesn't try to kill me again." You joke.

Alcina pulls away and narrows her eyes at you. You can see the hurt in her eyes, the regret she stills holds onto from that day.

"That is not something to joke about." She says with a deadly serious edge to her voice.

"I'm sorry. I only joked about it because I've been able to move past it. I don't want you to keep blaming yourself for what happened."

"I will because it was my fault."

Bringing your hand to cup her face, you brush your thumb across her skin.

"It was Miranda's fault, not yours. And I am going to remind you of that every day for the rest of my life if I have to, Alcina. I love you. I forgive you. I want you to forgive yourself."

Alcina closes her eyes with a sigh. She places her hand over yours and presses it into her skin. When her eyes open again they're glassy with unshed tears. Alcina opens and closes her mouth a few times, trying to find the words to respond with.

Instead of waiting for her response you lean in and press your lips into hers. Her golden eyes flutter shut and she kisses you back. The kiss turns from one of understanding to one of passion. Your tongue grazes her bottom lip and she parts them, allowing you in. The hand she had against yours on her cheek moves behind you before she rolls onto her back, pulling you on top.

As the kiss intensifies you bite down on Alcina's bottom lip and tug at it. A moan escapes from her and you bring your lips back to hers to swallow it. Your hands travel down her neck, past her shoulders to the tops of her breasts. She arches into your touch and you take as much of her massive breasts into your hands as you can - the only thing separating you from her skin is the thin fabric of her nightgown. Another moan slips past her lips into yours when you begin to massage her breasts. Taking her nipples between your fingers, she whimpers into your mouth causing to you moan in response when you roll them.

Last night she worshipped you, now you get to return the favor.

Releasing her breasts from your grip you grab the thin straps of her nightgown and pull them down. Alcina slides her arms out and you pull the silk down to her waist. She groans when your hands find her breasts once more and you start kissing down her jaw towards her neck.

She threads her fingers through your hair as she guides your kisses further down her body. As eager as the both of you are, you still want to take your time to try and kiss every inch of skin you can so you fight against Alcina's pushing a little. She groans at your silent protest and you respond by nipping at her collarbone, causing her to take a sharp inhale. Of course the mark immediately disappears but you're pretty sure you got your point across when you feel her grip loosen.

You kiss across her other collarbone before slowly making your way down towards her sternum and between her breasts. Her nipples harden in your hands and your own patience begins to wear thin. In one swift motion you pull away from between her breasts and take one of her hardened peaks into your mouth. Alcina's groan quickly turns into a moan as you circle your tongue around it and suck. Just before it becomes too sensitive you release her nipple with a pop and latch onto the other one, repeating your ministrations.

Moans pass through Alcina's lips as you suck on her. She certainly wasn't expecting this to happen this morning but now that you've started, she might go crazy if you stopped.

The silk of her nightgown is soft under your touch as you run your hands down her stomach. As you reach her hips you gather the fabric and begin to bunch it up before releasing her other nipple from between your lips.

Alcina's legs fall open and her hand rests on the top of your shoulder. Looking up at her you take in the sight before you. A true goddess, with her head thrown back into the pillow, her usual perfect and pristine curls splayed across the pillowcase. Her eyes are closed and her lips parted in anticipation for you to reach your next destination. She gently pushes down on your shoulder, giving you a not-subtle hint to where she wants you to go next.

Sliding between her legs, you leave open mouthed kisses on the exposed skin of her stomach as you make your way down. You place one last kiss above the band of her underwear before getting settled. Taking in the sight in front of you you see the large wet patch in the middle of her lacy underwear. Reaching out, you run your fingers up and down the wet spot, causing Alcina's breath to hitch with a groan.

Her hips begin to gently roll against your touch. Placing a kiss on the inside of her thigh, you rest your hand on top of her mound and let your thumb circle her already swollen clit. She lets out the softest whine that causes you to smile into the skin of her thigh as you continue to pepper it with light kisses.

It surprises you how sensitive she is until you realize how long it's probably been since her last release. Jealousy begins to set in when you realize the last person to touch her was that maid. The last person to unravel Alcina was that maid. Right then and there you make the decision to make sure no one will ever be able make her feel as good as you can. It becomes your mission to make sure no one else's touch but your own will ever be able to unravel her again.

Abruptly, you pull your hand away and she lets out a groan of frustration. Before she can protest any further you grab each side of her underwear and practically yank them down her long legs, throwing them aside.

You kiss your way back up the inside of her thighs before settling between her legs once more. Looking up at Alcina you see that her eyes are squeezed shut but you want her to see you pleasure her. You want her to see that it's you driving her into bliss.

"Alcina," you say as you plant kisses into her soft, muscular thighs. "look at me."

Alcina hears your request but can't bring herself to open her eyes. Last time she did it crushed her that it wasn't you between her legs. She's terrified that if she looks it won't be you there. So she shakes her head "no".

Nipping the inside of her thigh, she whimpers.

"Look at me." Again, she shakes her head no. "Alcina, my love, look at me."

The smell of her arousal is intoxicating, it's so tempting for you to say "fuck it" and feast on her as she's spread out before you, but you stay strong.

"My love," you say as you kiss the inside of her thigh again. "look at me, please."

Alcina rolls her hips towards your mouth but you do your best to push them back down, and much to your surprise you're able to - she doesn't put up much of a fight.

"I want you to look at me Alcina. Look at me."

The throbbing between her legs begins to surpass the fear she has. After taking a shaky inhale, she opens her eyes and looks down at you as she props herself up on her elbows. The air in her lungs stalls when she sees that it's you between her legs. Relief washes over her and she melts into the mattress as her body relaxes.

A smile pulls at the corner of your lips as your eyes meet her golden ones. You see the look of relief, of passion burning in them. There's almost a look of desperation, a silent plea for you to continue.

"Good job." You say. A wave of arousal courses through Alcina, she definitely wasn't expecting you to praise her and she definitely wasn't expecting the praise to turn her on even more. "Now keep your eyes on me. Can you do that?"

Alcina silently nods her head "yes" and you lower your mouth down to her. You lick a broad strip up her dripping slit, just barely brushing over her clit. Her moans fill your ears as you moan from her taste on your tongue.

Looking back up at her, you notice her eyes are closed and her head is thrown back. You nip at the inside of her thigh to get her attention and her head snaps back towards you.

"Eyes on me." You say.

Alcina goes to protest but before she can utter a word you dive back in and the words die on her tongue. Anything she was about to say was replaced by a string of soft curses and moans. Your eyes flick up to make sure she's still looking at you and you see her golden irises staring back. You smile into her and swipe your tongue over her clit before capturing it between your lips.

A large hand grips the back of your head and Alcina cries out as you lick and suck on her throbbing clit. Every time you check to make sure she's still looking at you, you see her eyes trained on you.

Doubling down on your efforts you flick your tongue over her clit faster as it throbs between your lips. Alcina's legs begin to shake and just as they start to tighten around your head, just before she's about to fall into bliss, you pull away.

Her fingers holding onto the hair on the back of your head tighten almost painfully as she cries out at the loss. Looking back up at her, her eyes are glowing with frustration and she growls at you.

"Shh," you say, kissing the inside of her thigh. "let me take care of you. Trust me my love." The grip on the back of your head loosens and her eyes soften. "Good, keep looking at me."

She nods her head and you lick up her slit once more before bringing three of your fingers to her entrance. After you coat them in her arousal, you part her lips and slowly push in. Alcina moans above you as you push your fingers in and pull them out before pushing them back in once more. You repeat this motion a few times before thrusting down to your knuckles. She lets out a moan when you start fall into a rhythm and curl your fingers into her velvety walls. Three fingers may feel good for her but you know it's not enough so after a few more thrusts and curls you add a fourth finger.

Alcina moans grow louder and you feel her clench down around you as you continue to thrust and curl your fingers. With her eyes still focused on you, she begins to rock her hips to the pace you've set.

"Oh, draga." She moans.

"Am I making you feel good my love?"

"Yes." She says with an exhale.

"Can you take more of me? Do you want me to fill you baby?" You ask as you thrust hard into her and curl your fingers.

"Yes!" She cries. "Please my love, give me more!"

Folding your thumb across your palm, you slide your whole hand into her and you feel her walls stretch around you. Alcina lets out a filthy moan yet her eyes never leave you.

"Good job, I know how much you love feeling me fill you. I know you missed this, didn't you?" You ask as you pick up the pace.

"Yes! I missed you inside of me, I missed you so much draga mea!"

Your thrusts become faster and harder as you feel her walls flutter around you. The tips of your fingers feel that spongy spot deep inside and you push further into it before your fingers curl. Alcina lets out a scream as you start to pound against that spot.

"Oh fuck, draga! Right there!" She cries as her hips rock harder against your hand.

"Right here?" You ask as you curl against that spot again and she cries out as she stares down at you. She couldn't pull her eyes away from you even if she wanted to in this moment. "No one knows you like I do, isn't that right? No one else knows exactly what spot to hit to make you see stars, do they?" You ask as you continue to fuck her.

Unable to form words, Alcina shakes her head "no" as more moans leave her lips.

"That little maid could never fuck you the way I do, could she?" Alcina's mouth hangs open and she shakes her head "no" again. "Answer me." You say before swiping your tongue over her clit.

Alcina's hips buck into you and she cries out.

"No! She could never fuck me the way you do! No one could ever fuck me the way you do!"

"Good girl." You say before latching onto her clit and sucking on it.

Alcina's moans and cries grow louder and you feel her walls beginning to clench around your hand. She's getting close but you want to drag it out as long as you possibly can.

"Not yet." You say before flicking your tongue over her clit again.

She lets out a frustrated groan and throws her head back.

"Uh-uh, look at me." She rolls her head forward and her half-lidded eyes lock onto yours. You can see in her eyes how close she is. "Not yet baby, not yet."

Alcina whimpers as she tries to hold off her orgasm. You push her further and further, her legs begin to shake around your head as she does her best to stop from falling over the edge.

"Almost, not yet." You mumble into her.

"Please." She whimpers. "Please my love."

Your eyes snap up to hers and you see the desperation in her eyes, a complete submission you've never seen before. The look in her eyes spurs you on as you thrust faster and suck harder on her clit.

"Draga, I - I can't -"

"Cum for me baby."

Alcina's body trembles and you can see the explosion behind her eyes before they roll into the back of her head as she lets out a scream. She clenches tightly around your hand as you continue to fuck her through her orgasm. Her clit throbs wildly in your mouth and you flatten your tongue against it as she bucks against you, letting her use your mouth as she rides it out.

Her cries soften and her walls start to relax. You swipe over her clit once more with your tongue - causing her to whine - before pulling your soaked hand from her. Alcina's chest rapidly rises and falls as she continues to come down from her high, trying to catch her breath. Aftershocks cause her hips and legs to twitch around you.

Crawling up next to her, Alcina opens her eyes and looks deeply into yours. Before you can say anything she pulls you into her and kisses you with an explosive passion.

When your lips part she buries her face into the side of your neck as the last of the aftershocks course through her. You run your fingers through her hair and kiss her head as she holds you tight.

Alcina has never relented control like that before with you. Even when you were pleasuring her in the past she was always in control. You wonder if she's ever let someone else take control before. Maybe before she got the cadou, but you're almost certain that she's never let someone else have control after.

She pulls away and looks into your eyes. You notice how watery they are and you cup her cheek and smile at her.

"Thank you." She says softly, holding back her tears.

"Of course. I love you."

"I love you, draga mea."

When your lips meet you feel a warmth flood your body. There's no hunger or desperation in the kiss, just pure love. She kisses you slowly for some time before your lips finally part. Alcina rests her forehead against yours and holds you tight.

"I love you so much. I am never letting you go ever again." She whispers.

"Good. Because I never want to let you go." You say back.

The two of you bask in the afterglow for a while longer, just holding each other in your arms while exchanging soft, slow kisses. It's moments like these with her that are your absolute favorite. Moments where the rest of the world disappears and it's just the two of you cuddled under the duvet. Your fingers trace her larger ones, in awe of how much bigger her hands are than yours. How soft her skin is, how strong they are. For the first time you really get a good look at the tips of her fingers and her fingernails. It fascinates you that her near perfect manicure can become such dangerous, beautiful claws in an instant.

"Does it hurt?" You ask.

"No. It was rather uncomfortable at first but I grew used to it over time."

"Was it hard to control?"

"I wouldn't say it was hard, but it did take some getting used to in the beginning. There were plenty of instances where a poor maid was in the wrong place at the wrong time and she was accidentally sliced to ribbons."

"What happened?"

"They were more difficult to control when I was in fits of anger - which happened often back then. They seemed to have a mind of their own."

"Like a defense mechanism?"

"In a way, yes. So if I wasn't careful about my movements or how close I was to someone when I was angry, well, lets just say it didn't often end well."

"How long did it take you to control them?"

"Not very long, a few years perhaps. Although still to this day I can feel them itching to come out when I'm upset or angry, but I have much better control now than I did then."

"Do you file them?"

"Every so often, yes. But the wear and tear of my everyday work naturally wears them down so they're not as sharp."

"Is this the shortest they go without you having to trim them?"

"You are so full of questions this morning." She says with a smile as a light blush dusts your cheeks. Alcina kisses the side of your head before answering. "This is their natural length, but when necessary I can retract them further. It can be uncomfortable but it's worth it so I don't injure my partner during certain... activities." She says with a smirk.

You thread your fingers through hers and cuddle into Alcina with a giggle. Alcina nuzzles into you and kisses you on the head before letting out a sigh.

"Nooo." You whine, knowing what her sigh meant.

"I know draga, but we've been in bed all morning. I have a long list of things that need to be done today, including speaking with our prisoner."

Grumbling into her shoulder, Alcina lets out a laugh before pulling you close and kissing you one more time before throwing the covers off of the two of you.

You try with all of your might to hold Alcina down but she quickly overpowers you and flips you onto your back. She clicks her tongue at you as she leans down.

"Valiant effort my darling, but unfortunately you do not have the strength to overpower me just yet." Your bottom lip pushes out into a pout and she clicks her tongue at you again. "Oh, what's the matter my love? There is no pouting after such a wonderful morning." She says before leaning down and placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

Alcina sits up and gets out of bed, not before tapping you on the thigh, prompting you to get out of bed as well.

"Come now draga, we have many things to do today."

The two of you get dressed and make your way down to the dining room for breakfast. During your meal Alcina goes over what she has to do today with the girls and discusses what she wants to happen with the prisoner.

"After breakfast we will pay him a little visit. Draga, if you would like to join us you are more than welcome to, but you are under no obligation."

"I would like to come, but I can stay out of sight. I just want to see if he tells you everything."

"What do you mean by that?" Cassandra asks.

"Y/n here went and visited our prisoner yesterday."

"You went into the dungeon alone?!" Bela asks.

"And you didn't die??" Cassandra asks.

"Why would you do that?!" Daniela yells.

"Girls, that's enough. We already spoke about it last night. There is no need for you to interrogate her about it, but I appreciate your concern for her wellbeing." Alcina says before turning back towards you. "Draga you are more than welcome to stay within earshot if you would like and if you want to make an appearance you may do so."

"I just don't want to see him get hurt."

"We will make sure you are escorted out of the dungeon before any of that takes place."

"Thank you." You say with a smile.

"Of course, my love."

The rest of the meal flies by and as the time to go down to the dungeon gets closer, you slowly begin to lose your appetite.

The girls finish their meals and Alcina swirls the rest of her wine in her glass before downing it in one gulp.

"Alright girls, I believe it's time to go visit the prisoner."

"I can't wait to take a bite out of him." Cassandra says with hungry eyes.

"And you say I'm always hungry." Daniela mumbles.

"Because you are! You insatiable beast!" Cassandra snaps back.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Girls. Enough. I need you to either take this seriously or you will not participate. Do you understand?" Alcina says with a stern look.

"Yes mother." They reply in unison.

"Ready, draga?" Alcina asks, reaching her hand out towards you.

You nod your head and take her hand in yours.

"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

"Then let us go."

Alcina leads you from the dining room towards the dungeon door. The closer you get the harder you feel your heart pounding in your chest. Bela, Cassandra and Daniela swarm down the stairs in a fit of excited giggles and Alcina stops at the top of the steps before kneeling down to your height.

"Are you sure you want to come, my love? I don't want you to feel pressured to be there."

"I know, but I want to. I have to. I just need to know-" you take a deep breath and Alcina nods at you, not needing you to finish your response. She knows why you feel like you need to come, that you need to see for yourself if he was as innocent as you thought he was - as you wanted him to be.

Alcina looks deeply into your eyes before pulling you in for a kiss. Immediately, your body relaxes into her touch and you smile into her. When your lips part Alcina stands back up and takes your hand in hers. She guides you through the dungeon door and you know there's no turning back now. You can only hope he tells them the truth - the whole truth. Not only does his fate hang in the balance, but so does the remainder of hope you've been clinging to.

"Well, here goes nothing." You say to yourself as you take the final steps towards the cell.

[littledeathdove]

Little Mother Miranda Headcanons

From the state of how her laboratory looked in the game shows that she is most likely messy. I will say that she is clean for the most part, but I believe that after certain documents and papers lose their value she loses them and they eventually end up…somewhere. She doesn’t want to get rid of them just in case she will need later on.

She can draw and does it really good, I mean she literally had like a whole table dedicated to drawing. I believe she would draw things she finds interest in, and that she also draws little drawings of moments she shared with Eva in the corner of papers.

Her voice softens when she talks about Eva, it’s not completely noticeable since Miranda doesn’t mean to do it, it’s a unintentional thing. Unless you’re actively paying attention to her, you won’t be even able to notice it.

She doesn’t have many interests, and her interest is hard to earn AND keep. Simply because her mind is always on two main things, her dear daughter and advancing her knowledge on the mold. So when something does somehow catch her interest, she tends to become obsessed with it. Like badly obsessed, and this doesn’t shy away from people too.

She doesn’t talk much unless she is giving out speeches to villagers, or talking to the lords. But she does talk likely a lot when it’s about scientific topics, especially the mold.

Miranda can cook, and she does it very well. Cause when she was still a mortal and Eva was still alive, Miranda didn’t have a steady income source, so money was almost always small. Meaning she had to cook with whatever she was able to afford. Which led to her becoming good at making random ingredients into a delicious meal.

Miranda is the closest to Donna out of all the lords. Out of all the other lords, Donna is the only one who will ever be able to spend a peaceful moment with Miranda without it involving something of business. Miranda also enjoys Donna’s nature to stick to the shadows and not cause any problems.

Miranda also ordered Donna to make multiple dresses and also a few dolls in the past. Both items show the luxury of materials and the beauty of time put into them. These items are for Eva when Miranda brings her back. The reason they are so luxurious is that Miranda wasn't able to afford such things for Eva when she still had her due to her being a peasant during her mortal hood.

I have this funny idea that Miranda only prepared things that Eva would ever want when Eva returns, and not things she would need. For instance, Miranda doesn't have an actual house for Eva and herself to live in once Eva comes back. She just didn't think that far when it came to the whole rebirth. And one could blame it on the fact she is always too engrossed in her research to think of all of it.

Miranda doesn't know how to flirt. She was the one getting flirted with in the past when it truly mattered. But now Miranda is the big, powerful woman who most people fear so no one is going to be stupid enough to do such a thing now. This means if she now catches some type of romantic attraction to someone, she is going to have to be the one to initiate it. This is horrible for poor Miranda cause her flirting would make the person believe they are next to be killed instead of giving them butterflies.

Eva does come in her dreams, and no she doesn't appear in Miranda’s dreams, but Eva's soul purposely comes in her mom’s dreams. It is the real reason why Miranda has such strong faith in the mold to bring her daughter back. Sometimes Eva tells Miranda riddles, that Miranda always forgets in the morning or doesn't understand.

Miranda was forced to marry Eva’s father, but I wouldn't say the marriage was horrible. Eva’s father was a kind man and had died due to the same sickness that took his daughter. Unfortunately, he was the reason Eva caught the Spanish Flu since he passed it on to her before his passing. Miranda had a hatred towards him for many years because of this, which is also the reason why she doesn't work to bring her daughter and her father back.

Miranda finds it funny to annoy people or piss them off. She especially does this toward the lords because they are her easiest targets. Miranda finds it most funny to secretly annoy Alcina since Alcina gives the best reactions to being annoyed, except for Karl. Karl is her second favorite to annoy since he keeps his anger within, and it looks like he is a vibrating machine with how his body trembles out of annoyance from Miranda’s antics. Moreau is her least favorite because he just whines when he ever notices Miranda purposely annoying him. Miranda doesn't even know how to annoy Donna when that veil is in the way of seeing Donna’s reactions, so Miranda just gives up on that most of the time.

Miranda had forgotten part of Eva’s face for some time until Eveline was created, and Miranda finally remembered Eva’s full face from looking at Eveline’s.

Also after she remembers, Miranda takes a day to sketch out Eva's face as much as she can. Doesn't matter what type of paper or what type of writing utensil, Miranda would sketch her baby’s face out with whatever she can get her hands on at the moment as long as it helps her not forget ever again.

Miranda has been a tad bit…unhinged since she was mortal. It’s probably due to how she looked in that picture when she was holding baby Eva that I believe this. I don't know if it's just me but it just looks like she would do some outlandish shit if you give her a good reason to do so.

Like come on, look at her eyes.

Those don't look like crazy eyes to y'all? Just me? Okay 😔

Miranda forgot like a lot of her memories, the only ones she remembers is her favorite ones with Eva. And that’s only because she draws them — well sketch’s them — during her free time.

Am I tying this headcanon due to Miranda having short hair which means she probably cut it?

Yes.

(If you don’t understand, it’s because of the theory, I believe it is, that when you cut your hair, you are cutting off memories of your past.)

ANYWAY THATS ALL MY CURRENT HEADCANONS 😋🫶🏾 this is me also clearing out drafts since it’s been here for a longgg time.

[heraxic]

Hello! I love your work!

How do each of the Lords fight the people who come to slay them? I know Kyril can use his lethal gaze to immediately turn his enemies into stone, but what about the others? :0

Does Donna still use her hallucinogenic powers? Can Alcina kill people with her riddles?

Thank you!!

Kyril’s (karl) stone gaze is of course his primary weapon, but he has several others at his disposal (attached to him), which is very pertinent since it’s become widely known not to look him directly in the eyes. However, they still need to know where he is, so when they’re searching for him and he’s standing hidden somewhere in the dark their eyes will naturally draw towards the two glowing spots.

His ability to fly grants aerial attacks like grabbing and throwing people from lethal heights, and his monstrous strength allows hurling rocks (ranged) and tearing flesh from bones with his claws (melee). If anyone comes too close to his head they risk getting bitten by the venomous snakes on his head. To complement his arsenal, he’s built a giant fortress on the island with walls and towers encircling his usual hunting grounds (warriors don’t come often enough to live off of them, but there are plenty of wild animals around).

Sarantos (salvatore) is completely indomitable at sea and can sink any ship with whirlpools he creates with his mouth. He also has several strong tentacles to pull in people on the coast or in shallow water. The lake he resides in is also dangerous for humans to drink from, because it makes them yearn for the sea until they drown themselves in it.

Daphne (donna) is very nonconfrontational and shy for a monster, relying on web traps and her legion of child-headed spiders to poison/kill anyone coming her way. Those who actually make it to her cave gets taken out via stealth attacks and added to the collection of emptied out husks. While not in direct control of hallucinations, the forest on her island does seem to have a way of getting people lost and confused.

Alina (alcina) and the harpies reside in a castle-like temple, guarding a monumental dome structure in which the ‘heart’ of the islands is kept. The harpies serve as a vanguard, scouting out the area, hunting warriors or bringing them directly to their mother when she’s in need of entertainment. She asks riddles to flaunt her intelligence and superiority, with no intention of letting anyone through the gate, only to grant them a running start when her and her daughters chase them down and add their bloodied armor and gear to their treasury.

Her abilities are much the same as Kyril’s, though she’s vastly physically stronger. The harpies’ intelligence level with Sarantos (their smarts flew out of the window along with their humanity when they were transformed), but they are incredibly fast fliers (faster than Alina and Kyril) with long sharp sickle-like talons and deafening screams (instead of their beautiful singing voices when they were human).

Lastly, Athena (miranda) tends to taunt people first to exhaust and destabilize them before fighting (if she even has to at that point), then using an array of magic and swift strikes with her spear to finish them off.

[my-cursed-brain]

Songs that I associate with twst characters:

- Riddle: Top of My School by Katherine Lynn-Rose

- Ace: Don't Stop Me Now by Queen

- Deuce: Punk Tactics by Joey Valence and Brae

- Cater: Ladies Night by 11 Acorn Lane

- Trey: So sorry but I don't have a song for him :(

- Leona: ANTI-HERO by SEKAI NO OWARI

- Ruggie: You're Gonna Go Far, Kid by The Offspring

- Jack: I don't have a song for him either :(

- Azul: Sibyl by wotaku (There's an amazing animatic for this on YouTube and you should absolutely watch it. Yes it's for Twst.)

- Floyd: The Trouble by Club Danger

- Jade: Puppet Boy by DEVO

- Kalim: On Top Of The World by Imagine Dragons

- Jamil: Trust in Me from The Jungle Book

- Vil: All That Glitters by Earl

- Rook: Love Me Dead by Ludo (listen nothing I put here will sound sane so just don't think too hard about it.)

- Epel: Mama's Broken Heart by Miranda Lambert

- Idia: Game Over by Falling In Reverse

- Ortho: iRobot by Jon Bellion (I have so many songs that fit Ortho but this one makes me the most emotional.)

- Malleus: Tie between two songs. Epoch by Savlonic (remixed by The Living Tombstone) and Wish That You Were Here by Florence + The Machine

- Lilia: Baby Mine from Dumbo

- Silver: Once Upon a December from Anastasia

- Sebek: Warriors by Imagine Dragons

- Chenya: Cheshire Kitten by S. J. Tucker

- Crewel: Gimmie! Gimmie! Gimmie! by ABBA (Idk why but he has ABBA vibes to me.)

[differenteagletragedy]

I saw you wrote a couple things about the MC dying. Have you written anything about Baxter finding out the MC died during the five years he was gone?

Haha, I wrote a whole thing about this yesterday then realized that I read what you wrote wrong, so here's another -- tough break, Baxter!

Baxter had gotten along perfectly fine without you for five years. Or, well, not perfectly fine -- he was miserable, riddled with self loathing and he'd isolated himself from anyone that might actually give a damn about him. But he was surviving.

But when he saw Miranda and Terry -- with a "y" now, he'd told him later -- so many memories came flooding back. It became harder to tell himself that he was ok when he just missed you so much.

It was pathetic, he thought, to be so attached to the idea of someone he'd known so long ago, for such a small amount of time, but you'd marked him during your summer together. And now that he'd been reunited with your friends, a small part of him started believing that he could be reunited with you as well.

During that first introduction, or reintroduction, as it turned out, he tried to keep things professional. Jude and Scott, his clients, were letting him meet with Jude's sister and her boyfriend, who were helping them get things together for the wedding. He did see Miranda and Terry exchange a number of glances after seeing him. He assumed it was because they weren't sure how to act around him after he'd cut off all contact after that summer.

Looking back, he wished that had been all it was.

Still, Baxter didn't bring you up during that first meeting. Or the second one. Or the third, or the fourth. There was a tension in the air whenever he interacted with Miranda and Terry, and finally, the night before the wedding when they were all together at Jude and Scott's home, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Terry, a word, if you would be so kind?" he said after wrapping up the wedding talk.

Terry shot another one of those looks at Miranda, but he followed him to the kitchen, then leaned on the counter and looked at him expectantly.

"What's up, Baxter?" he asked in a tone that was more forced than any Baxter had heard from him in the past.

Despite the awkwardness of the situation, he went for it -- he asked Terry if you were going to be at the wedding.

Terry stared at him for a moment, confusion etched on his face. Finally, he began replying.

"Baxter, you don't know?"

"Know what?"

Terry took in a deep breath, but before he could say anything, Baxter held up a hand. He'd gotten scared.

"Please forget I asked, it's really none of my business," he said hastily, so sure that Terry was going to tell him something that would hurt. That you hated him, had gotten married yourself, moved to the other side of the world.

"No, wait," Terry started, but he'd put his walls up firmly. He stepped out of the kitchen, said his goodbyes and gave his well wishes to the others, then left.

It wasn't until the next day, during the reception, that he learned the truth.

When the guests started arriving at the wedding, Baxter kept an eye out as he rushed around, making sure everything was running smoothly. During the ceremony, he stood at the back, scanning the crowd, hoping to get a glimpse of you. Nothing.

After dinner had been served and the guests were finishing up the meal, he spotted Miranda and Terry at a table near the front. Cove was with them. You weren't.

It was strange, seeing your eternal sidekick without you there. Strange enough that he felt bold enough to approach the group.

"Miranda, Terry," he said, greeting the two he'd been reacquainted with already. With a nod and as friendly a smile as he could muster, he nodded toward Cove. "And how have you been?"

"Baxter," Cove said flatly, giving him the glare he'd gotten accustomed to during his time in Sunset Bird. "Hi."

He swallowed, but everything was almost over -- he just had to get through the reception, then he'd never see these people again. You'd gotten stuck in his mind throughout this process, and although he'd made it a point not to look you up in the five years you'd been apart, now he couldn't stand not knowing. So he asked.

Cove stared at him, then looked to his friends. Terry shrugged, and Miranda kept her eyes on the table. Then he told him.

You were dead.

A lifetime of showing a prim and proper exterior to hide the mess that going on inside him prepared him well for the moment. He nodded, gave his condolences, then excused himself. All the while, he had the strangest sensation of existing somewhere that wasn't reality -- it couldn't have been. Not if you were gone.

Throughout the rest of the reception, he stayed focused on his duties, all while his mind tried to reason its way out of this new information. Maybe he'd misheard Cove. Maybe Cove was mistaken. Maybe this was just a nightmare. There had to have been some sort of misunderstanding.

When Jude and Scott had left, as well as most of the guests, Baxter was standing by the window, looking out over the city and trying to reason with what he'd heard. A tap on his shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts.

He turned, and Miranda was there.

"Are you ok?" she asked. "About ... you know."

He considered the question. He could have lied and said he was fine, but that would hardly be believable, given his behavior. He could have admitted that he wasn't ok, but if he wasn't ok, then what was he? Sad? Heartbroken? Angry? Regretful? Ashamed that he had all of these feelings and more when he had no right to them after the way he'd left you?

The hesitation was enough of an answer for her, and she sighed quietly, moving beside him to check out the view.

"What happened?" he asked after a moment.

"Does it make a difference?" she responded, a bit of coolness in her voice.

"No, I suppose it doesn't."

Miranda went to walk away, even getting as far as to make a couple of steps back towards her friends, but then she stopped.

"You really screwed up, you know?" she said quietly, more bite behind her words this time. "Leaving the way you did. It wasn't fair."

"I agree. And that haunts me more than I could possibly say."

Satisfied at that, she left him alone.

Eventually, when there was no work left to be done, he made his way down to his car. But instead of going home, he found himself taking a different route, and before he knew it he was driving into Sunset Bird.

He went past the main street, down to the old neighborhood where he parked his car in his old spot like no time had passed at all. He stepped out, then started making his way down to the beach.

You were gone, he knew that now. No magical reasoning could change that. But here, down by the shore, he could feel you. In the sand, in the water -- here you were everywhere, clear as day.

He slipped his shoes off, then his socks and set them down. He rolled up his pant legs next, and without any of the hesitation that usually accompanied everything he did, he stepped out into the water.

Then he stepped further.

His pants were getting wet, the waves splashing up well past his knees, but he didn't care. For the first time in a long time, he wasn't scared. What did he have to lose?

Baxter watched the water, dark and cold, come up around his waist as he kept going. It wasn't just the loss of you -- though that did hurt like hell. It was what losing you represented. All the wasted moments, all the missed chances, all the happiness that could have been his if he'd just let himself grab onto it.

When the water came up to his chest, he lifted his feet and started moving. There he was, his first time swimming in the ocean, and you weren't there to see it. He took a deep breath, then plunged down, fully submerging himself in the water.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed out there, letting the waves rock him closer to shore, then further away, but he wasn't afraid. And when he finally left the water, walking along the same sand he knew you had to have walked on countless times, he decided that he didn't want to be afraid ever again.

[onegianthotmess]

Okay, so I’m making Riddle a big sister because, let’s face it, he really fucking needs one.

And I sort of want to name her Miranda since she’s inspired by the White Queen/Mirana from the live action Tim Burton version of Alice in Wonderland, but I also have a few other name ideas for her.

Just a quick day long poll to try and get some outside opinions! If you have any other suggestions, I’d like to hear them!

[mashup-writing]

Third Time's the Charm; Bela Dimitrescu (Resident Lover)

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Requested? ☑

"What a shame she's fucked in the head, they said."

Summary: Bela places her trust in the wrong iteration. A dual POV on the Neutral Ending to Bela's route

Warnings: Angst, Miranda being an obsessed control freak

Genre: Angst

Resident Lover Masterlist

----------------------٩(◕‿◕｡)۶-----------------------

"You should've stayed well away, Bela."

A few days ago that voice would've made her blood turn cold upon hearing it. A few days ago she'd be stuck in place. A few years ago she'd have shut down at being spoken to by that woman.

Bela whips around with anger in her eyes and tension in her shoulders, her knuckles begging to be planted on the older woman's cheekbones- Over and over and over and over- But she composes herself before committing to assault.

"It would only further convince MC that I'm not alright." she tells herself. Bela breathes, and tries to speak with a levelled voice. She soon finds out that there is no one who has unwavering control over their tempers.

"You know what you've done, and eben though you refuse to tell me- I know you know what I'll try to do from here on out. You know that nothing can stop me as long as I'm on my own feet Miranda. Sooner rather than later, I'm going to find out exactly why I know most of what has happened before it happened before I was supposed to know. Once I'm free of you, I'll find my heart, take my life back, take whatever else it is that you took from me, and I will have all of the answers before I start a life that your cursed claws will never dig into. "

The Eldest Dimitrescu swears she sees something in Miranda's eyes for a second, fear? Astonishment? Surprise? Anger? She cannot place it and yet whatever it was, it gave her the resolve that was needed to mend her shattered strength. Bela stands tall, squaring her shoulders and meeting Miranda's guarded gaze with her eyes unblinking.

"I will not let you cage me like one of your pets. I'm not reinforcing your spell, and I'm not going to be dancing around your plans anymore- I will tear them down myself with my bare hands if I have to do so."

The barest hint of a smirk grazes and upturns Miranda's lips, her eyes showing glee- As if she's somehow won when everything has just begun. Bela scowls, she opens her mouth to throw questions at the older woman when she's beat by the Headmistress to what she wants to say.

The light jiggle of her apartment's door handle catches her attention, and she now knows that Miranda didn't come here to taunt her or question her:

Miranda's here to gloat. Bela knows only of one person would be batshit crazy enough to think to ask the Headmistress for help.

"I'm afraid I am not the one to cage you this time around, Flightless Bird." Miranda speaks with victory in her voice, like she's barely holding back a laugh. Bela chooses to ask the priestess about what her riddled sentence means when a faint screeching sound makes it way to her ears. Horror fills her eyes when she realizes-

Sirens.

Unrelenting sirens.

"What did you do?" She demands to be told. Miranda only schools her features before turning her back on her student.

"What did you do!?" She screams, aiming the glass in her hands towards Miranda's direction. She finds that she must be more disoriented than she thought as she sees the professor catch the glass like it was nothing before her hand glows dimly and the glass buckles and breaks in her grasp.

The Sirens grow louder and Bela's eyes follow the shards that Miranda drops to the floor. Her stomach sinks when she sees some of the shards stained with red, younger blues following the source of the red droplets.

The skin on Miranda's palm stays open.

The sirens grow louder and Bela notices the phone in her other hand too late.

Bela raises her voice again, demanding and desperate, so close to letting the tears fall- Yet all Miranda does is turn her back to the younger blonde with no interest in the conversation. The Headmistress reaches for the door and Bela lurches forward, rushing with the desperation to have her question answered when her missteps and her shoe slips on a fallen shard. She hits the ground before she knows exactly what has happened and she's about to pull herself up when a softer set of steps enter the apartment. Familiar shoes stop at the threshold, and Bela can't bring her eyes to look up- Look at the face of someone she trusted.

She never registers how the blaring sirens are now just outside her apartment's window.

Bela's mind is oddly calm for a moment that feels like an eternity while she tries to pull herself together to meet your gaze. Her time is cut short when two other pairs of shoes suddenly appear in the doorway and suddenly Bela is looking up- Screaming.

The woman you have grown to trust scrambles back, her eyes fleeting between the two responders who waste no time in taking her arms. She fights against them, screaming and kicking and swinging as best as she can with both her arms taken hold of- There is a part of you that holds unwavering respect for her still. She fights and fights and fights. Bela's resolve remains stubborn and unbroken to the very end regardless of her mind's state.

One of the responders jam a needle into the side of her neck and at the same time something inside of you withdraws, like a child curling up in a corner with its hands on its ears. It feels wrong to see Bela be subdued, she's meant to stand tall- Stand proud- To strike down any and all obstacles that dare to stand in the way between her and her goal.

The hazy image of a statue of a knight bleeds into your brain-

You scrunch your eyebrows and before you can even begin to wonder what that was- It is gone and all you can do is meet Bela's eyes from across the room. She hangs limp in the respondents' arms yet somehow she's still awake, with the distance between you and the three of them you are surprised when you hear her whispered words with perfect clarity as if she was in your arms instead of theirs.

In your arms- Bela's laying in the courtyard outside The Headmistress' office building in your arms and you're screaming for help.

"I'm not insane. Please believe me."

Your head spins and your stomach is in knots. You open your mouth, and nothing comes out. The responders drag her off, and Bela's eyes never leaves yours-

She's angry, desperate, begging- And it feels so wrong. Bela's not supposed to be this unkempt, she's not supposed to be dragged off.

Bela's supposed to wake up in her room in her family's mansion with you waiting by her bedside-

"Please! Let me go, I'm not insane!"

You're shaken out of your daze, and the last thing you see of Bela is her eyes. Her gaze is boring into yours as she wordlessly pleads, fighting against the call of sleep with all the fading strength she can muster while they secure her in a straightjacket before the ambulance door is harshly shut.

A hand finds its on your shoulder and as gentle as the motion is- The touch is sickening nonetheless. Your body wants to recoil and throw the hand off, yet you're reduced to nothing but a motionless body with your feet glued to the pavement and your hands feeling like lead.

Headmistress Miranda's voice is low and apologetic while she offers you something. You don't know what she offered but your stomach lurches after she has voiced the proposition and all you can bring yourself to say is that you do not know.

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Bela counts. Lying on her back as she stares at the wrist watch that her mother had sent her as a gift a long time ago. "Get well soon." she imagined was the sentiment. Alcina remembered that she likes to keep track of time, or so she chooses to believe. Why else would her mother send her this?

23:50

It's funny how in all her years she had never once bothered to memorize which 12 hour time equates to the other twelve hours on a 24 hour format. She shakes her head after the chuckle falls out of her lips.

"Whoever thought that a Grippy Sock vacation would manage to be educational.." she says to herself.

The smile falls from her lips as an annoying sensation crawls up her skin. She shuffles in her place, having learnt months ago that she cannot even undo a single clasp on her uniform without the assistance of a staff in the institution.

She presses her elbow against a spot on her rib, wiggling in irritation until the itch dissipates. She sighs in relief before retuning to her original position, letting her thoughts wonder to you.

Did you take her spot on the council? God, Bela hopes not. Yet she believes that you'd do an amazing job if you did decide to take over for her.

Have you graduated already? She hopes so as she thinks to herself that the sooner you're out of that hell hole, the better it is for you.

23:58

Bela hopes that Miranda has somehow poked her own eye with those gaudy finger guards that she wears. She also hopes with extreme pettiness that Cornelius has not gone a day without running into a window.

She wonders if Anteros is doing okay, he's with Daniela now but she wonders if he misses her. She sure has missed the dog she raised from puppyhood.

23:59

Bela turn to her side, hoping that you're okay. She still doesn't have her heart, but she finds it in herself to hold onto hope that she'll be out of this dreadfully decorated institution soon.

Bela spares another glance at her watch-

The time is still 23:59.

She hopes that someday when she's free you'll run into each other. She ignores the part of her that speaks of how Miranda probably intends to keep her here forever.

Bela closes her eyes and prays to whatever will listen that you and her family are okay. She slips from consciousness, remembering that you never got to meet Anteros when everything was still as okay as they could be.

Bela dreams of you with her and Anteros in the local dog part, Daniela and Cassandra tossing a frisbee between them as the German Shepherd tries to snatch it out of the air again and again.

05:30

Bela wakes up to a blaring alarm, her body clock tells her that something's up. She opens her eyes, and to her surprise- It is sunlight that greets her and not white padded walls.

Tears burn her eyes and a laugh escapes her as she glances at the calendar on her dresser.

"Club Fair day."

She takes a moment to breathe, to sit and remember how it felt to simply be in her own bed.

Bela jumps off the bed, running over to her ckoset drawer with newfound hope burning in her veins and in her chest. She smiles excitedly, she really wasn't insane at all.

"Third times' the charm." She says to herself as she leaves the apartment with a bright smile on her face and a liveliness in her step. She barely remembers to tone it down before getting inside the Campus grounds.

Miranda has eyes everywhere and she's supposed to be heartless. Bela schools her expressions and walks in with her head held high.

"Time for a new plan."

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

You trip over your own feel, reaching out a hand only to end up taking the whole tablecloth down with you.

The Blue-Eyed Goddess stares at you with mild disgust, but she quickly reaches a hand out towards you.

"Are you alright?"

"I just fell for you."

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you realize that you've said that out loud. The Goddess raises an eyebrow at you, and you thank your lucky stars that she decides to let your throwaway comment slide.

"We're the Student Council Club. Would you like to join?"

-----------------------٩(◕‿◕｡)۶----------------------

01-11 thinks that someday, a non-angsty Bela Dimitrescu work will find a place in the Masterlist. For now, 01-11 is having too much fun.

P.S: 01-11 thanks you for reading.

[tomionesmutfest2024]

Work Revealed: Tiranë

Summary:

Hermione travels back to Voldemort’s time with a mission to eradicate him from the timeline. But when she finds him, there’s a massive problem. He’s already met her.

Read here

Additional Tags: Classic time travel fic, 1960s, Rise of Voldemort, Tom Riddle is His Own Warning, Hermione is an Unspeakable, while Tom is doing his usual unspeakable, Next-level legilimency, albania, Dark magical bohemian death-eater cult in an Adriatic coastal villa, Department of Mysteries fuckery, Not a slow burn: a raging inferno, Oral Sex, Edging, Rough Sex, Anal Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Naked Female Clothed Male, Age gap: older Hermione, Inspired by All Fours by Miranda July, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Bondage, dom/sub dynamic, Brat/Tamer undercurrent, Murder Attempts As Foreplay, Assassin!Hermione, Rising Dark Lord Voldemort

[psalacanthea]

just cuz @iridescentnuances told me she wants to see the weirdest shit I've got in my files somewhere, have this bit of um...Mass Effect 2?

...

Scene:

The abandoned colony of Horizon, after an attack of the Collectors.  Shepherd, Garrus, and Miranda are speaking with a wizened Mechanic.

Enter Kaidan Alenko.

Kaidan: Commander Shepard was her name.  Thou speakest false, if thou dost speak of the Captain of the finest ship to pierce the heavenly veil.  The Citadel thrives yet on her device, and she did tread where no man dares to go.  But alas, that Shepherd of men was lost, and so I say I see a ghost.

Mechanic: Good men have died this very day, and thou, a wastrel yet remain.  Fie on your Alliance, and fie on thee; I depart now and leave you to your ill fortunes.

Exit Mechanic.

Shepard: A ghost am I? No, but Spectre do I be.

Kaidan: And yet I say that thou dost lie, among the cold and unyielding stars. What coulds't thou be but a figment? Commander Shepard died and was mourned by we, her true compatriots.

Shepard: Belike her death was but a jape.

Kaidan: A jape? Mock'est thou the pain of a billion souls who toil and strive yet in her fulsome shadow? Speak no falsehoods. I say it plain. If thou art she, then of thy legacy hast thou made a mockery.

Shepard: Life hath made a mockery of Commander Shepard, and so Commander Shepard maketh mockery of life. They say she lies in death; they say she lies with e'ery breath of that Reaper threat, and so I say to thee it is a jape. I speak to ears who listen now.

Kaidan: Tis truth then? No, it cannot be. Commander Shepard, bound to the word of the Hounds of Hell? Those damnable curs?

Shepard: A Fool hath the right to speak truth to kings, but cannot make them heed.

Kaidan: No fool, but a mad traitor thou hast become, leading good men astray into the arms of damnation. What say'st thou, Vakarian, to this witless quest?

Garrus: Into hell, say I.

Kaidan: Then traitor shalt thou also be.

Garrus: Betrayal? I am true to Shepard, and with Shepard shall I be.

Kaidan: I am true to mine oaths, to Alliance, and by their word I say aye. Thou art traitors both who serve Hell, not Heaven.

Shepard: The enemy of mine enemy may turn the tide of battle when goodly men do naught but scorn. Thou hast seen the enemy here today, and so I say to thee: if thou claim'st Cerberus doth wage war upon the colonies, then I relinquish my crown to thee.

Kaidan: A crown?

Shepard: Aye, the crown of fools, which better suits thy brow than mine.

Garrus Laughs.

Shepard: The Collectors work for the Reapers still, absconding colonies by their will, and the Hounds of Hell lend fang and claw to this noble cause. I am in service of Man, and it is the lives of Men I here protect, not tarnished Thrones of the Citadel on high, whose prayerful guise and temperate wisdom make mockery of Men's suffering.

Kaidan: I shall bear thy words to the seat of Heaven, but no more.

Shepard: Then for naught my thanks is given.

Kaidan: Then I thank thee in turn for this heartache.

Shepard: When next Death doth reach its loathsome hand across th'bounds of space to crush me in that withered fist, I shall be reminded to beg pardon first from thy graciousness.

Kaidan: Thy pilot of so apt a name should'st bend the knee and place the title upon thee. Capering jester!

Shepard: Better jester than sycophant be.

Kaidan: I've no stomach for thy barbs. Farewell, I leave this haunting ghost behind.

Kaidan Alenko Exits.

Shepard: Brave Alenko! Need I endure a loathsome prick, consigned to bleed ere I am believed?

Garrus: Let's away. Our might needs be prepared to strike the beast that lurks among the stars. Be they Heavenly or from depthless Hell, all arms must be duly calibrated ere they strike true.

Shepard: Where does thy allegiance lie? To the Shepard or the might of her arms?

Garrus: I'truth, tis a riddle.

Shepard: What marvel of Science do I here see? Behold! This lizard is an ass!

Miranda: Commander, swift and merciless Time cares naught for our banter and strife. We must away. The Man of Indistinction hath called upon thee and awaits 'neath the dome of light and shadow.

Shepard: What does that asshole want now?

Exeunt.

[mirandapriestlyswife]

Mirandy Fanfic- Apocalypse AU; Chapter 2

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Hi! This chapters not that great, but I hope you enjoy anyways :) constructive criticism is welcome as this is my first fic! Enjoy!

Prologue https://www.tumblr.com/mirandapriestlyswife/747204446805704704/mirandy-fanfic-apocalypse-au-prologue

Chapter 1 https://www.tumblr.com/mirandapriestlyswife/747303362291286016/mirandy-apocalypse-fic-chapter-1

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────

“You wanna play 20 questions?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“….”

“What are you doing?”

“Work.”

“Work? What work?”

“Honestly Andrea, what does it look like im doing?” Miranda sighed exasperatedly and turned around in her office chair to face away from the brunette. Her office was a mess. Old copies of Runway were scattered across all surfaces, photos from shoots that go as far back as 1972 fluttered about. They interested Andy for about the first 20 minutes of arrival at Elias-Clark, as promised, at 7 AM. But now they just made her sad. It was like when she was going through her old high school yearbook after Lily passed. It made her smile to think about all the fun times they’d had… But then the realization that she would never hear her voice again settled in. The photos of past models gave her a similar feeling. Those people had lives. They had hopes and dreams. And now they were dead.

Miranda sighed and placed down her pen, rubbing her temples.

“You okay?”

“Oh…” She didn’t say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ but at least she acknowledged the question. Andy sighed and got up to stretch. Shed been sitting on the floor close to Mirandas desk all morning. She was really desiring human contact. Sure they didn’t have to fall asleep in each-other’s arms, but a hug would be nice every once in a while.

“..Where are you going..?”

“No where. Just stretching.”

Miranda clicked her tongue. “Good.”

‘Good’? Did that mean she liked her presence? Andy smiled and leaned on the wall.

“So.. What do you do in your free-time?”

Miranda visibly rolled her eyes at this. It was fascinating, the woman looked so impossibly bored whenever Andy tried to initiate some type of conversation. Yet she looked over at her constantly, as if to make sure she was real. It was almost sweet… Almost.

“I work. Review old issues, critique. There isn’t much to do in an empty city.”

“Do you leave the building to get food or-“

“Upstairs. Theres a deep freezer. It somehow manages to keep things moderately fresh if I turn the power back on every few hours.” Miranda dropped her pen and leaned back in her chair. Gazing up at Andy.

She stood self consciously. “Do you ever leave the building..?”

“No? Why would I? I expect the streets are riddled with the smell of death.”

Andy shrugged. She wasn’t wrong. The bodies that weren’t relocated to mass graveyards at the beginning of the infection were in fact rotting in the last place they were before death. She walked past the gruesome sight of a homeless man with his eyes pecked out by pigeons every time she left the apartment. She ended up throwing up on the side of the road the first few times she saw it. But like most things, she just got used to it after a while. She kept reminding herself that theres no soul in that body, it was simply an empty shell. The sight still made her nauseas though.

“Yeah.. When I realized there was seemingly no one else left in the city I broke into The Plaza Hotel. I thought, ‘Hey if you’re the last woman alive, why not live a life of luxury?’” She chuckled. “Yeah.. That didn’t last long.. Walked in on some Wall Street guy that died in bed.”

Miranda closed her eyes momentarily, her lips forming a displeased expression.

“Why are there no body’s in this building?”

“Did you really just ask me why there are no corpses in this building?”

Andy sighed, was this woman trying to make her feel stupid? “Yes..?”

Miranda rolled her eyes and looked up at the ceiling, “Theres no bodies because we underwent quarantine two weeks before the initial mass outbreak. Alike your job I assumed.. Wherever you ended up.”

Andy shrugged, “We stayed open for a while.. You know, the world of journalism was really booming at the beginning.”

“Why only at the beginning?”

“Well.. People stopped reading.” She sighed sadly then put on the upmost pitiful laugh, “They got sad reading the latest death poll I guess..”

Miranda nodded, her eyes still shut.

“So…”

Miranda opened one eye which made Andy chuckle. “You just work all day? Where do you sleep?”

An immediate eye roll followed by a response of, “Where do you think?” In which Andy had no answer to.

“I sleep here.”

“Well I knew that much.. But theres-“ She looked around just to confirm her suspicions, “Theres no bed-“

“Correct…”

“Then where do you-“

“Honestly Andrea, not everyone needs a bed to sleep.”

Miranda Priestly doesn’t sleep in a bed? What? “..So.. You sleep.. On the floor..? Really..?”

“I sleep on the couch.” The older woman rolled her eyes and when Andy clearly wasn’t understanding, she cocked her head in the direction of the couch, corner of the office.

“..That can’t be good for your back.”

“And why are my back issues of your concern?”

Andy scoffed. “Well incase you haven’t noticed you’re the only one around here to talk to, and I honestly would rather you not be dead.”

“How would a little back ache cause me to die?” Miranda raised an eyebrow as she leaned forward and went back to what looked like aimlessly making notes on old magazines.

“Well.. I don’t know but-“ Andy stopped herself when she caught Mirandas eyes, but to her own surprise, she continued, “I care about you and-“

“Oh did you care about me when you abandoned me in Paris? To be mobbed by paparazzi questioning my divorce now questioning why my assistant is running off with her tail between her legs like some wounded animal? Did you care, Andrea? Did you care when you threw your company phone in a fountain? Don’t think I didn’t catch wind of that.”

Andy was stunned.. Out of all things she expected to hear from Miranda, confrontation wasn’t one of them. “Miranda, please.. I was young-“

“You’re still young.”

“I was immature!”

“Seems like nothings changed, has it?” Miranda shut the magazine and stood up, glaring at the taller woman. Andy frowned, out of all the damn people to be left alive on Earth, why did it have to be her spiteful boss?! She took a deep breath, she couldn’t afford to ruin the one chance at some sort of companionship with Miranda.

“Look, I’m sorry for that… ‘Stunt’ I pulled in Paris.. I was young! My whole life outside of work was falling apart! My boyfriend had just left me and-“

“Oh yes ‘Nate’, let’s hear about ‘Nate’.”

Andy was about to fire back when she realized.. How did Miranda know Nates name? Did she have her phone wired or something?! “You.. Know about Nate..?”

Miranda’s mask slipped for a moment, she looked almost embarrassed as she pursed her lips. “I may have.. Overheard some conversations between you and Emily.” She straightened herself up, “Nothing of interest of course.”

Oh.. Lovely to know her old boss was probably listening to every complaint Andy made when she had the time. She raised her eyebrows and chewed her bottom lip, not knowing how to continue without resulting in an argument. “So you-“

“You should stay here tonight.”

Andy stared at the older woman, bewildered.

“Here…? With you..?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Miranda took off her reading glasses and added on, “Unless you’re uninterested.”

She wasn’t sure she wanted to.. She wasn’t sure she didn’t want to either. And what did she mean by ‘uninterested’? Uninterested in what exactly? In Miranda? In the idea of staying with her?

“I.. I kind of should go back to Lily’s apartment.. All of my stu- I- belongings.. Are there.” She sighed in relief that she caught herself from saying ‘stuff’. Somehow proper use of filler words was more important than figuring out what to eat for dinner that night. Andy almost smiled before she noticed the slight disappointment in Miranda’s complexion. “..Maybe you want to come back with me? I mean- I don’t have a lot of room but..” IDIOT! Shit! Shit! Shit! Why did she just invite Miranda over like that?! Of course she wouldn’t be interested in-

“Acceptable.” Andy was shocked. Miranda Priestly was willing to spend the night in the same building as her? Let alone the same room? She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks and swallowed hard. Those unresolved feelings from Paris seemed to be fighting their way through the deep corners of her subconscious she had them buried.

“Great.. We can head out-“

“Lets go now.” Miranda sighed, looking around with little interest and then looking at Andy expectingly. “Well?”

“Well? Well, what?”

The older woman scoffed, “Do I look like I know my way to your apartment, please Andrea lead the way.” She muttered as she grabbed her Prada bag that she had carelessly discarded on her dust ridden desk. Miranda Priestly was quite the mess without two full time assistants at her disposal 24/7.

“..Right- it’s a long walk..”

“Andrea, I’ve lived in this city since before you were born im sure, I know how to walk places.”

“Right.. But are you really going to do that in.. You know.. Heels-?”

Miranda snickered, or at least thats what it sorta looked like. Somewhere between an almost laugh and a downright hiss. “Trust me. I can walk fine, Andrea.”

“Yes, Miranda.”

The walk to the apartment was rather quiet. Except for Andys occasional attempt at making conversation.

“We should check out BloomingDales, you know.. Raid them of their designer clothes.” She tried to joke but Miranda simply put on her Versace sunglasses and acted as if she didn’t hear her. Of course.

“How much longer must we drag our feet for?”

“..Well we just passed the bagel place.. So maybe.. um.. 30ish more minutes?”

Miranda clicked her tongue at that. Andy wanted to ask her why the hell she had even agreed to come spend the night with her if all she was going to do was shoot her disapproving glares, but she kept quiet and instead focused on the sound of falling leaves.

The city stank. It always stank. Since it was built it was as if the founding fathers had decided ‘This shalt be the city that smell like shit’. But instead of sewage water, the place reeked of decomposing flesh. Andy covered her nose with her sweatshirt as they passed the body of what looked like a woman that had simply fallen asleep in the park when the infection had killed her. She heard Miranda gag behind her which would’ve made Andy chuckle under different circumstances.

“You don’t leave Elias-Clarke much?”

“I try not to.”

“Why not?”

“Why would I want to walk around a city of corpses?”

Andy didn’t respond as the two continued their walk in silence.

“It’s a nice day out..”

Miranda made a noise of approval in response.

Finally.. Fucking finally.. After a torturous walk in silence, they had finally arrived at Lily’s apartment. Of course, Lily didn’t live there anymore. But she still referred to it as ‘Lily’s apartment’, as if she were carrying out her best friend’s legacy by naming a crappy studio apartment in her honor. She jiggled open the door, which she had left unlocked. She lost the key months ago and only really locked up at night.. Besides, in the off chance that a psychotic murderer had broken into the apartment, she’s sure she’d welcome death with open arms.

“Well.. Here it is.” She shrugged as she made her way through the messy apartment. Books on top of books and magazines covered almost every available surface.

“So.. Do you wanna stay on the couch or-“

“I assumed there were two bedrooms? Did you and Lily not live here together?”

Andy cringed at the accusatory tone Miranda took, it almost sounded like jealousy..

“Um.. Yeah- well- the couch is a pullout.. I usually sleep there anyways.” She gestured to the mass of pillows and blankets on the folded up pull out couch. “I don’t touch the bedroom- that was Lily’s. I’d like to keep that door closed if you don’t mind while you’re here.”

Miranda nodded and turned her head towards the kitchen, observing the area. “If I take the couch, where will you sleep?”

“I don’t mind the floor.. I can take the pillows from the chair and-“

“We can share the pullout.” Miranda set her purse on the kitchen counter and looked to Andy to set up the pullout couch for the two of them. Andy stared at her in shock. It actually didn’t sound.. Unpleasant. God knows the fantasies she had about Miranda before Paris.. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad? She’s missed the physical touch of another person.

“Yeah that sounds.. Good.” She looked Miranda up and down, “You didn’t bring pajamas- did you?” That sounded a lot more perverted than she meant to.

Miranda seemed surprisingly unaffected, “No. I was a bit…” she clicked her tongue, “Spontaneous when agreeing to this.”

Andy shifted awkwardly on her heels, “Right.. Well.. I have some old shirts and sweaters you can go through if you want. Some of its clean.” Some of it was in fact clean. She had learned how to wash clothes with a jug of water, scrub brush, and soap, but it still didn’t seem that hygienic. Miranda pursed her lips and nodded.

“And what do you eat..?”

Andy’s face flushed in embarrassment. Food had always been a.. Sore subject when it came to Miranda to say the least. Being called the ‘fat, smart girl’ by the woman she quite honestly thought was hotter than the Ohio pavement on an August afternoon took quite a chip at her relationship with food. Pun not intended. “Oh.. You know.. Just cans of things I pick up- theres some apricots..” She walked over to the pile of canned goods she’d been hoarding in her kitchen, digging around, “Around here somewhere…”

“I’ll look myself Andrea, thank you.” She kept digging through the cans anyways. What would tonights meal be? A can of olives that’ll have her waking up in the middle of the night more dehydrated than a damn sponge? She heard Miranda shuffling around the apartment, probably going through the laundry pile. She heard Miranda groan in disgust at the sight of her clothes from Old Navy and the Gap. God, this was going to be a long night.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────

Hope you enjoyed!

[thegirlwhowrites642]

Hiii

Do you have more Ginny headcanon ?

Do you have fifteen hours?

I'd say most of my headcanons are more like deductions from canon to be honest. You can find some of them in my one-shots. Anyway, I'll try to make a list of strictly Ginny headcanons.

her favourite colour is green (which between Harry's eyes and the Harpies is basically canon, it's like saying that red being Harry's favourite colour is a headcanon)

as we all know Ginny loves cats, but seeing that her family could never afford to buy her one, she always had in mind that with her first paycheck, she would buy her first cat, and she does

when she was little she wrote adventure stories about her and The Boy Who Lived

writing was a part of her healing process after the Chamber

in her second year, Dumbledore invited her many times to play chess and it was a subtle way to bring her to open up about the diary (this is technically not canon but it's way more canon complaint that Dumbledore did this than the idea that he didn't, both from the perspective of him being a good loving man despite it all, and the cynical perspective of him wanting to know more about Riddle)

I'm a strong supporter of the universally accepted headcanon of Ginny and Sirius having late-night chats at Grimmauld Place

Ginny jokingly promised Sirius that if she and Harry would've actually ended up together (like Sirius seemed to believe) she would've called her first boy after him

as the years go by, she and Rita Skeeter develop a sort of frenemies situation (this is actually something I've been thinking of writing about for a long time)

with tpfy @takearisk-ao3 made me fall in love with the idea that Smith would remain an annoying presence in her life

she was arrested at least once while Harry was already Head Auror, it was very embarrassing for the Aurors involved

McGonagall asked her to become Head Girl but she turned it down

she was the first woman to become sports editor for the Daily Prophet (for who doesn't know this: sports journalism is an exetremely sexist field)

I can't imagine Ginny as anything but the coolest of mothers

every young Quidditch player dreams of the stamp of approval from Ginny Potter, if she says a player is going to be great then that player is going to be great, she very much has the power of influencing the players' market with her opinions

in general, I imagine Ginny as eventually a very revolutionary, iconic, and borderline intimidating figure of sports journalism, someone people would aspire to work with and become like (a sort of way less workaholic and good version of Miranda Priestly)

obviously, she published books, but I totally see her publishing also novels and I think that Ginny specifically writing children's novels in her last years would be a very full circle moment seeing that she started the story in love with The Boy Who Lived

I'm kind of into the idea of Ginny eventually starting her own newspaper (with Albus, because I headcanon him as a journalist too)

she is extremely careful in making sure Lily Luna never thinks she can't do something because she is a girl and she makes sure James and Albus never shove her aside

she loves Harry's smile (this is kind of canon, to be honest, fourth book) and she absolutely adores the sound of his laugh

she rescues animals like it's her job, the Potter house is filled with rescues (Harry is always grumpy at first about it, more because he feels like someone should be the reasonable one but secretly it's just one of the many things he loves about her)

the animals obviously have the weirdest names

she kind of likes Slughorn, in the way you like a weird uncle you see once a year

she absolutely can cook, she is the only daughter of Molly Weasley, of course she can cook, she just doesn't like doing it most of the time

even after she stops playing she still keeps doing regular physical exercise

absolutely accidental fashion icon

Ginevra was the name of her half-Italian maternal grandmother who died of a broken heart after Gideon and Fabian's deaths

she passes on to her kids her arts and crafts love, but especially to Teddy

All is well is something she started saying to Harry after he had nightmares, eventually, Harry started doing it with her too, and it sort of became their mantra

she was a bit disturbed by the fact that she would never be able to know if James and Lily would have approved of her, she went alone to their graves the day before her wedding to talk with them

this is substantially canon, but according to JKR, when yew wands (like Ginny's) get buried with their owner, a yew tree is born from the grave and I adore that image (the tree protects Harry's grave too)

I'm pretty sure I could go on for an eternity but let's stop here.

[pathogenflock]

Name: Rafael

Age: 19

Pronouns: he

Interests: Nathan Pandit

adults, minors, employed people, unemployed people, chronically online people, acutely offline people, ai artists, traditional artists, digital artists, bots, real people, aspiring authors, published authors, starving artists, well-fed artists, nsfw accounts, sfw accounts, people who think in black and white, people who acknowledge nuance, neurotypical people, neurodivergent people, blond people in romantic relationships with other blond people, polyamorous, monogamous, polygamous, men, women, everyone between and outside of that, anyone to whom that spectrum as a whole does not apply, people in healthy relationships (mutually toxic ones are fine as long as you let me watch ^-^), allocishet people, aroace trans gay people, pregnant people of any gender at their late 2nd- early 3rd trimester, French people (Quebecois people are on thin ice, but the rest of Canada also DNI), my 5th grade english teacher, gays, lesbians, bisexuals, pansexuals, polysexuals, omnisexuals, police without a warrant, police with a warrant, drunk driving antis and neutrals, woke moralists, asleep degenerates, people with blue or green eyes, people with cavities, small business owners, megacorp CEOs, microorganisms that cannot breach the blood-brain barrier, vivisection antis, fandom elders, fandom middle-aged, fandom youths, people who dont read DNIs if theyre "too long," people with long DNIs cus im not reading that shit, people who send death threats, discord e-daters (i hope you break up), selfship haters bc why do you hate fun, medical malpractice lawyers, my ex-wife Miranda and her stupid fucking lawyer you can keep the house but you'll never have my dignity you stupid assholes 🖕🖕🖕🖕, my beloved son Eduardo except on weekends, flat earthers, globe earthers, earth "neutrals," people who hate on online relationships or think they dont "count," pro shippers, pro kayakers, and pro skaters, people who donate to ao3 (this one's for real), monolinguals, trilinguals, selfshippers lmaoo thats so cringe sorry, transphobes (homophobes are fine), anyone located within 50 kilometers of -57.40378, 118.63882, twinks, bears (person not the animal), activists, staticists, gambling addicts but if you send me $50 i may or may not take you off this list, autism moms, autism dads, autism parents who lost it all in the divorce (now demoted to neurotypical parent), autism not the step dads but the dads that stepped up, people who think women can get pregnant (only men do that), people who cant solve my riddles three, bears (the animal), The Bear (the show), people with "ironic" dni lists who are trying way too hard to be funny, debt collectors, toothpaste flag users, toothbrush flag users, "we live in a simulation" dumbasses, anyone whose high school mascot was that shitty bulldog png (you know the one), furries (scalies are fine). may add more

People with the first name "Nathan" and the last name "Pandit."

[twsthc]

housewardens favorite movies & series 🎬

⚠️ warnings: mentions of azuls ed

last updated: august 7, 2023

☆

🌹📽 RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS: Spirited Away, The Office

thinks Spirited Away is really cute and loves ghibli movies in general

is really enchanted w the way chihiro works so hard for her parents (he kins her)

he thinks The Office is the funniest shit ever

its the most explicit media his mom has let him watch ever

probably wasnt allowed to watch spongebob as a kid

🥩🎬 LEONA KINGSCHOLAR: Bullet Train, Family Guy

likes thrillers/movies with complicated plots

i watched Bullet Train like 4 times so maybe im a little biased

got emotional when [certain character] died and [other character] cried over it

Family Guy is the type of show he'd put on then fall asleep to

he giggles at the first 5 episodes then hes out cold

🐙📽 AZUL ASHENGROTTO: The Devil Wears Prada, Shark Tank

we must not forget azuls drag queen roots

likes the business aspect, the drama, the outfits, miranda, etc...

the "one cube of cheese" line hit hard

shark tank is kind of obvious

sometimes he screams at the screen like "50% IS TOO HIGH"

🌞🎬 KALIM AL-ASIM: Big Hero 6, Regular Show

cried during #that scene

inspired by this tweet and this tweet (spoiler warning for the 2 people who havent watched bh6 yet for whatever reason)

gets distracted during thrillers/complicated movies a lot

bh6 has just enough twists that wont confuse him if he wasnt paying attention

regular show is just good idk

👑📽 VIL SCHOENHEIT: Misery, The Bachelor

i would do The Devil Wears Prada but it was taken...

i think shed like horror/thriller anyway

probably listens to stephanie soo's baking a mystery podcast

started the bachelor because rook recommended it

it was a joke at first

its not a joke anymore

☠🎬 IDIA SHROUD: Baron Omatsuri, Blue Exorcist

I LOVE BARON OMATSURI its so good

also the themes of loss probably hit hard for idia

hes 100% caught up with one piece

blue exorcist is the type of animanga thats just edgy/funny/??? enough that makes me think idia would like it the most

also based off of what we know ab his current preferences

the one remaining member of the BE fandom...

🐲📽 MALLEUS DRACONIA: When the Wind Blows, I Love Lucy

likes older movies because all he had in his castle was a super crusty ancient box tv for entertainment

not sure why i think hed like wtwb... im just right

learned everything he knows about humans through old sitcoms

The Golden Girls, The Brady Bunch, I Love Lucy, etc...

uses really old sayings because he thinks theyre still popular