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weemssapphic · 1 year

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Would you be willing to write Larissa Weems x nb!teacher!reader smut (still female anatomy though, but without a focus on r’s chest please) where they are watching the school play/musical and Larissa starts teasing reader? Like caresses on the inside of r’s thigh, inching dangerously close to their clit, etc., to the point that they have to leave to go fuck it out somewhere else (you can choose where exactly). And if you could, maybe strong praise kink with dom!Larissa? I love your writing so much omg omg omg it’s so good!!

hello! thank you for the request, and the compliment! <3 i had fun writing it so i hope you have just as much fun reading it and that it lives up to your expectations. also Enid is clearly my favorite Nevermore student so SUE me lmao. as always, ao3 link is in the title! ^^ warnings/content: nsfw (cunnilingus - Larissa receiving, fingering - reader receiving), dom!larissa, teasing/edging, semi-public sexual activity, praise kink, mentions of marking/scratching

words: ~3.9k

when the lights go down

“Hey, you’re gonna do great, okay? I promise!” Enid was practically trembling under your gaze, eyes wide, and you pulled her into a tight hug. As the teacher in charge of Ophelia Hall, you’d grown close to the young girl in your past year at Nevermore. She saw you as a bit of a mentor, often staying after class to help you clean up your classroom and ask you for advice, which you happily gave her - she reminded you a bit of your childhood best friend. You found yourself biting back wide grins as she would recount the latest gossip about her peers, always bursting with more energy in a single second than you thought you’d ever had in your entire life.

Other students bustled around the two of you as you stood backstage, when the lights out in the auditorium began to dim.

“I gotta go okay, and you’d better get back in the dressing room. Break a leg, kid,” you gave her a final smile and pushed her towards the girl’s dressing room, waving to some of your other students who were huddled behind the curtain and giving them a thumbs up before sneaking out the back. You hurried your way through the hallways and slipped into the auditorium, scanning the rows for a place to sit.

The entire front row was reserved for the teachers and your heart skipped a beat at the fact that the only empty seat left was next to none other than your boss, Larissa Weems.

“Hi,” you were breathless when you arrived at the seat. “Is this seat taken?”

“I should hope so,” Larissa looked up at you, her smile blinding, gesturing for you to sit.

“Enid’s very nervous,” you whispered in her ear, committing the way her eyes crinkled at the outer corner to memory.

“Miss Sinclair will be excellent. I’ve played Audrey myself, in fact -”

Oh? You wanted to probe her further on this revelation, but your conversation was cut short by the overture of that night’s show - Little Shop of Horrors.

The students were fabulous of course. Enid had nothing to worry about - the second she began her solo in “Skid Row (Downtown)”, you knew her worries were for naught. You couldn’t help but glance up at the blonde sitting next to you, wondering how she might have sounded in the same part. She was watching the stage with rapt attention, lips parted slightly, eyes sparkling.

Your cheeks warmed as sapphire eyes met yours in the darkness - you’d been caught staring. You averted your gaze back to the stage, trying your hardest to focus on your students and the production they were putting on - not that it wasn’t spectacular, truly. But your thoughts kept wandering back to a certain blonde principal, whose body heat you could practically feel radiating off of her at such a close proximity.

To how she would look gracing the stage with her regal presence, to how her angelic voice would sound crooning out some melody or other (you hadn’t known she could sing, foolishly hadn’t presumed she was into musical theater - what else didn’t you know about her?). To how lovely she looked tonight, a string of pearls kissing the smooth skin of her neck, a cream-colored dress caressing every curve of her body.

Christ, stop it. You chanced another glance at the blonde - only to realize she wasn’t watching the musical at all. She was watching you, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Larissa?” You felt utterly exposed under her gaze.

“I feel I’ve flustered you,” she whispered, ducking her head so no one else would hear her. You could see amusement sparkle in her eyes.

“I’ve just been trying to picture you as Audrey this whole time,” you whispered back, reveling in the giggle she had to suppress at your comment. You’d never heard Larissa Weems giggle before, much less been the reason for a giggle of hers - you wanted to commit the sound to memory, to take it to your grave as a treasured gift.

“I knew it,” she smirked. “I promise I’ll tell you all about it sometime, darling.” You couldn’t help but notice how her voice dropped a bit at the pet name, subtly yet still noticeably. She placed a reassuring hand just above your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze, and it took every ounce of willpower not to openly shiver at the touch.

You turned your attention back to the stage, acutely aware of how Larissa’s thumb began to trace soothing circles on the inside of your thigh. At first, you weren’t sure she was aware she was doing it, when you peered at her out of the corner of your eye and she was watching the current song “Mushnik & Son” as if it were the most riveting thing she’d ever seen.

It soon became apparent, however, that she was more than aware of her actions, when her hand shifted higher on your thigh, subtly but definitely higher. Her thumb pressed insistently into the flesh of your inner thigh and you had to suppress a moan, cheeks burning brightly in the dark auditorium.

Ms. Thornhill, who was sitting to your right, turned to look at you with furrowed brows, and you sputtered out a weak cough in an attempt to conceal the moan that had peeled from your chest moments before.

You were disappointed to note the sudden absence of Larissa’s hand on your leg, cursing yourself for ruining the moment. Great. Now she won’t touch you for the rest of the evening.

“Sorry, Marilyn, I think I’m getting sick,” you shot her an apologetic glance, clearing your throat awkwardly.

Her eyes searched your face for a moment before her features softened, her hand giving your shoulder a sympathetic squeeze before she turned her attention back to the stage. You let out a defeated sigh and slumped back into your seat, stewing in your own misery at the desperate, building ache between your thighs.

The fabric of your slacks shifted slightly as Larissa’s fingers returned to their former position, continuing their tantalizing ministrations. What was Larissa doing? Surely this woman would be the death of you… Her palm was warm against your leg and a fresh wave of arousal pooled at the apex of your thighs as you shifted in your seat in an urgent attempt to gain some sort of friction to relieve the tension building in your core.

Larissa’s hand caressed the top of your thigh, stopping just shy of your center, coming to rest. She leaned back in her seat as Enid began to croon out “Somewhere That’s Green” and you huffed in frustration, the coil behind your navel wound tight. You glowered up at Larissa until she finally, mercifully, looked down at you, eyes darkened with desire.

You bucked your hips up into her hand, forcing her fingertips to brush against your clit. She sucked in a breath, eyes darting down to your lap then up to the stage, as if contemplating something.

Her lips brushed against your ear, breath fanning across your neck, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as goosebumps erupted on your skin. Her voice was low and breathy as she murmured in your ear. “Follow me in 2 minutes, darling.”

With that, she stood and left the auditorium. You watched her go, mesmerized by the sway of her hips, slightly dizzy as you wrestled with your own desire.

The longest 2 minutes of your life.

Once you were sure you’d waited long enough, you followed Larissa’s path out of the auditorium. As soon as the door swung shut behind you, a pair of strong arms pinned you to the wall of the hallway and a warm mouth latched onto your skin, peppering open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat. Larissa’s body pressed flush against yours, trapping you between her and the wall.

“Rissa,” you whimpered as one of her thighs came between yours and pressed into your center. You felt as if you were burning alive from the inside, desperate for her touch and already absolutely drenched.

“Shhh,” Larissa silenced you with a searing kiss, swiping at your lips with her tongue. You moaned into her mouth and she nipped gently at your lower lip.

“Come with me,” Larissa threaded her fingers between your own, the close contact sending a shiver up your spine, and began a brisk pace down the hallway. You followed in a daze, hardly able to believe your luck.

You’d harbored a crush on the woman since you’d started at Nevermore. Well… to call it a crush would be a bit of an understatement. You were quite sure you were in love with her. Everything about her drew you in - the soft, almost maternal smiles she would give passing students, the little creases that would form between her eyebrows when she was deep in thought, the way she seemed to be able to calm your nerves with nothing more than a hand on your shoulder and a whispered praise in your ear.

But she was your boss, for fuck’s sake. Not to mention intelligent, stunning, put-together, a consummate professional… Why would she be interested in you? And yet here she was, dragging you down the hallway to… your own classroom?

Larissa fished her master key out of the pocket of her blazer and unlocked your door, all but pushing you into the classroom, locking the door behind the two of you.

“Don’t you look simply divine tonight?” Larissa husked, inching towards you like a tiger stalking their prey. You stepped back out of instinct, bumping into your desk. You couldn’t even the count the number of times you’d sat at that very desk, picturing yourself bent over it as Larissa towered over you, fucking you into oblivion. And here you were…

You gulped audibly, every nerve-ending in your body alight, heat pooling in your core. Larissa’s pupils were wide, eyes darkened with lust in a way you’d only seen in your wildest fantasies.

She stopped in front of you, her breath warm and delicious on your face, raising the hairs on your arms. “I have wanted you since I first met you, my darling.” You whimpered, reaching out desperately and rather pathetically to pull Larissa towards you by the lapels of her blazer, rushing to crash your lips together. You felt the blonde smile against your lips, her hands coming to rest on your waist.

“Tell me, can you be good for me tonight? Do you want this just as much as I do?” Her whispers against your lips shot straight to your cunt.

“Yes, Larissa, god yes. I want this.” Larissa smirked, sliding the blazer from her shoulders to reveal bare arms, pale skin dusted with light freckles that you’d never been privy to before. You traced them with your eyes, struck by the sudden sense of intimacy you felt clawing at your heart.

A whimper clawed its way from your throat as a warm hand cupped your cheek, forcing your eyes to meet sapphire pools, swimming with lust. The pad of her thumb grazed over your bottom lip, dragging it down then letting go, her eyes watching intently as it snapped back into place.

You found yourself white-knuckling the desk behind you in an attempt to keep your knees from giving out as Larissa’s fingers began to toy with the button of your slacks, her teeth sinking into her lip in question. “May I?”

“Do you have to ask?” Your voice was hoarse as you tried to rasp out an answer. The salacious smirk you received in return had you nearly melting on the spot, and Larissa wasted no time in dragging the slacks down your legs, nails raking at tender flesh on their way down.

Larissa pulled you in for a heated kiss, teeth and tongues clashing, picking you up to set you on the edge of your desk. She rounded the desk until she was behind you, pulling you back against her until you could feel the swell of her breasts pressing deliciously into your back.

Larissa’s hot breath ghosted over your neck as she nibbled on your earlobe, before her lips latched onto your pulse point. Her hands soothed over your torso, moving lower and lower until her right hand finally dipped between your thighs, knuckles brushing the damp patch at the center of your underwear. You felt a groan from Larissa’s chest vibrate against your spine.

“So wet already and I haven’t even touched you yet?” The low timbre of her voice caused a fresh wave of arousal to leak out of your core.

“Larissa, I-I need you, you have no idea,” you hissed as her fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your underwear and teased your entrance.

“I think I may have an idea, my darling,” the blonde cooed, finally applying the pressure you’d been searching for as she swiped two fingers up your slit. You moaned, bucking your hips up just as her fingers reached your throbbing clit.

She began to massage the bundle of nerves, drawing a series of moans from your lips as her own lips focused on your neck, your jaw, your shoulder, leaving little bite marks which she soothed with her tongue.

“Rissa, please, I need more,” you gasped, rolling your hips in time with her fingers in search of more friction.

You could feel Larissa’s smile against the bare skin of your shoulder as her fingers dipped lower, spreading your folds on their way to your dripping hole. She dipped the tip of a finger into your entrance, immediately letting out a groan directly into your ear.

“I love how wet you are for me.” Her finger dipped further into your core, pumping slowly in and out, before adding a second finger, stretching you out.

“You take me so well, my love,” Larissa cooed, her thumb coming up to continue drawing languid circles around your aching clit. Long, slender fingers curled into your sweet spot and you arched into Larissa’s touch, hips twitching.

Larissa could sense that you were getting close as your walls began to clench around her fingers, drawing them further into you, as your thighs began to tremble. She withdrew her fingers from your cunt, tracing your entrance with the pads of her fingers as she slowed her pace on your clit to languid strokes.

You whined at the loss of contact, bucking your hips up as the coil behind your navel twisted almost painfully.

“What do you say, darling?” The blonde teased.

“P-please,” you didn’t care how desperate you sounded, you needed Larissa inside of you again.

“Please, what?” She peppered soft kisses down the side of your neck, fingers gliding through your wetness so lightly you almost felt you were imagining her touch.

You squeezed your eyes shut, desperately rutting your hips against the air. “Please fuck me, I-I need you inside.”

Larissa’s fingers pressed more firmly now, giving in and providing you with more friction. She slid back inside you, curling her fingers just so as her thumb circled your clit.

“Right there,” you panted out between moans. “Faster.”

Larissa obliged, adjusting her pace as she added a third finger. You teetered on the verge of your orgasm, thrusting your hips up to meet her fingers, thighs twitching. The air between the two of you was charged with electricity, your body tingling from head to toe.

“That’s it my darling,” Larissa cooed, and you let out a low whine, your pussy clenching around her fingers. “You like being called mine?” You felt more than heard Larissa’s low chuckle as you nodded against her. You would be hers in whatever capacity she would allow it, in whatever capacity she wanted or needed you to be.

“You’re doing so well for me,” she murmured. “Can you come for me?” Reaching behind you, you grasped at Larissa’s shoulders to steady yourself as you reached your high, thighs quivering as a string of obscenities dripped from your lips.

Larissa’s left hand was splayed across your stomach, pulling you firmly into her, grounding you as you rode out your climax. Her lips were on your ear, whispering faint praises that were lost on you in the moment, too focused on steadying your breathing.

“You look so ravishing when you come undone like that,” Larissa whispered in your ear as your breathing slowed. You turned your head, fingers twisting into the blonde’s silvery strands to pull her in for a bruising kiss.

She brought her fingers up to her lips, shining with the evidence of your orgasm. Her tongue swirled obscenely around the digits and she let out a guttural moan, immediately pulling you in for another kiss so you could taste yourself on her tongue.

“Fuck, Larissa, I need to taste you.” You watched the grin unfold on Larissa’s face as she dragged you towards the edge of the desk, sitting back in your desk chair - your desk chair, the one you sat in 5 days a week and would surely never see the same way again. She hiked her dress up around her waist, hooking her fingers around the waistband of her white lace panties and dragging them down her legs to reveal her own glistening arousal.

“Come here and take care of me, then,” Larissa husked, and you were off the desk and perched on your knees between her legs within seconds. After pressing alternating kisses up the insides of Larissa’s thighs, you flattened your tongue and dragged it slowly up her cunt.

“Just like that, right there,” Larissa breathed. Your lips closed around her clit, tongue flicking at the sensitive bundle of nerves, pleased with the low whine you were able to elicit from the blonde.

She draped her thigh over your shoulder, the tip of her heel digging sharply into your back, a delicious mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through your body. Your arms wrapped around her legs to steady yourself, surrounding yourself in Larissa.

“That feels so good, darling,” she moaned as she writhed beneath you, fucking herself on your face. You lapped at Larissa’s core, letting out unrestrained moans as you were finally given the pleasure of being able to taste the woman’s sweet nectar. The heat of her on your tongue only fueled your own carnal desire.

Larissa’s breath hitched in her chest as your tongue dipped into her entrance. “You know exactly how to make me feel good,” she breathed, her hands weaving themselves into your hair, fingernails scratching at your scalp.

You groaned into her pussy, the vibrations drawing heavenly sounds from her throat. Gazing up at her, you were in awe of her blissed out face, eyes screwed shut, head thrown back in ecstasy, mouth hanging open. Her cheeks were flushed the most adorable shade of pink and you felt wickedly proud of yourself in that moment to be the one bringing Larissa to the height of her pleasure.

Suddenly, Larissa’s hand pulled at your hair and forced you to still your movements.

Larissa had stilled above you, her attention turned towards the door of your classroom. You strained your ears, unable for a moment to focus on anything but the dizzying sensation of Larissa Weems on your tongue, Larissa’s skin pressed against yours.

But then you heard it, the hallway flooding with students. The musical must be over by now, everyone must be heading out of the auditorium. Would anyone come looking for you? Or for Larissa? Surely no one had even noticed the two of you were gone. Right? In any case, it was too late now.

Your eyes wandered back to the principal, who was gazing down at you with a fresh sense of unadulterated hunger - cheeks flushed, chest heaving.

“Are you going to finish what you started?” Her voice was low and raspy, barely audible above the ruckus of students and staff just outside the door.

You were all too happy to oblige, bringing your tongue back to Larissa’s center. She rolled her hips against your face, pressing her heel firmly into your upper back as her thighs began to twitch around your head.

“Make me come, love,” Larissa whispered, letting out a series of soft, breathy moans. Your gaze traveled up her body and you let out a loud groan when you caught her kneading her breasts, rolling and pinching her clothed nipples between her fingers.

“Shhh,” Larissa cooed softly, “Can you be quiet for me, love? We wouldn’t want anyone catching us.” You whimpered and nodded softly, though from the smirk Larissa was giving you, you were quite sure that she was at least a little bit turned on by the illicit nature of your situation.

“I’m s-so close,” Larissa gasped quietly, and you could tell that she was by the erratic way her hips bucked against your face, the way her heel slipped a little on your back, scratching at your skin, the way her thighs began to tremble, closing around your ears. She was losing her composure, and you were absolutely drunk on the sight.

You flicked and sucked at her clit as she came, her hands weaving themselves back into your hair to push you farther into her center, breath quickening above you. You licked at her core, gladly drinking up every drop of arousal she had to offer as she rode out her high until, finally, her thighs loosened their grip around your head and she sank back into your office chair.

When you looked up at her, she gazed down at you through heavy-lidded eyes, lipstick smudged around her mouth, a blissed-out smile playing on her face. Her hand came to cup your cheek, thumb grazing over your lips before she pulled you up for a kiss, mewling into your mouth as she cleaned her own essence off your chin.

“I suppose we’ll have to wait here until everyone has gone back to their dorms,” you teased as you straddled Larissa’s lap, eager to be as close to her as possible. Larissa hummed in agreement, pressing her forehead against yours.

The two of you breathed in tandem, simply enjoying being in the other’s company as the din in the hallway slowly faded. Larissa’s hands pressed into your back, dipping under the hem of your shirt and pulling you against her while your fingers traced patterns across the freckles on her shoulders.

“You’re stunning, Larissa,” you whispered into the crook of her neck. She craned her head back slightly to peer down at you, a faint hint of amusement glittering in those gorgeous, sapphire eyes.

“I could say the same about you, love,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair and pulling you possessively close. “However, as much as I would love to spend the night ravishing you, it is getting a bit uncomfortable here.”

“Hey, you’re the one who ordered these chairs for our classrooms,” you grinned up at her, raising an eyebrow in defiance.

“That was before I realized I’d be fucking you in one, Y/N,” Larissa replied dryly, ushering you off her lap and smoothing her dress. You dressed almost numbly, unable to take your eyes off the blonde for too long, turning her words over in your head.

The two of you made your way to the door of your classroom. “Larissa?”

“Yes?” Her voice was gravelly with desire as she smirked down at you, fingers threading through yours to pull you down the hallway in the direction of her own quarters.

You cleared your throat and quirked your brow, trying to play it cool. “I believe you said something about ‘spending the night ravishing me’?”

“Oh, darling, you didn’t think I was done with you?”

thank you to the bestest writing buddy @afeatherformills for helping me edit this and work out some things!

#larissa weems x reader #larissa x reader #larissa weems #principal weems #principal weems x reader #clearly choosing little shop as the musical was something so personal to me haha

364 notes · View notes

amalia-uwu · 7 months

Text

S K Ó L I X

ΣΚΏΛΗΞ

I DONT OWN -> Undertale, Horrortale, Farmtale, the rights go to the respective owners. I only own my original characters and this fic.

Undertale by Toby Fox

Horrortale by Sour Apple Studios

Farmtale by GuinongTale_AU

Cover

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 ( you are here) | Chapter 5

Warnings ⚠️: Angst, unrealistic medical stuff, inaccurate medical stuff, bone injuries. Mention of blood, blisters, gore, body horror (please let me know if you need me to add something else)

(Next day morning)

Lilian put the sample, stinger under the microscope. He pressed some buttons and the computer started analyzing it..

He watched in anticipation. The computer showed.

[NOT FOUND]

He sighed frustrated, slapping the table.

Agatha entered the lab holding coffees "Any luck?" she leaned above his shoulder.

"No, no matter what I do, I just can't understand what is going on! I analyzed it like 10 times! The computer doesn't find something to match it. What am I doing wrong? I ran one more test and it will be ready tomorrow or in two days" Lilian replied still frustrated while rubbing his eyes and nose.

Agatha smiled sympathetically "Hey, now don't beat yourself. We are doing what we can.. " she gently patted his shoulder.

He only smiled sadly and gave her his notes, "Of course!... Here, take this. Ophelia gave me her notes, I organized them with mine"

She took the papers.

"Thanks! See ya later!" she exited the room.

She walked around and asked a Daniella who was passing by "Have you see Dr Ophelia?"

"in her office, I think" she replied pointing to a direction. Agatha smiled and thanked her.

Agatha knocked on the door "Dr Ophelia?"

"It's open, come in" she heard her saying.

Ophelia looked over her shoulder "Are the results ready?"

"Not yet. He did some tests but with no results. He tried another trick and he will know tomorrow or in two days. Here are what we know so far organized".

Ophelia nodded "Thank you!"

Agatha looked at the floor and beat her lower lip. While Ophelia read some of Lilian's notes. (the notes were a mix of his own and some Ophelia gave him. Just organized)

Patient's File

Name: Sans

Specie: Skeleton

Gender: Male

Age: 29 years old

Medical history: History of Chronic Fatigue, Chronic Pain, Low HP.

Left eye stronger than the right eye. (See File 9 for more info)

Time patient arrived at the clinic: Between 18.25 - 18.35 pm.

Time patient experienced symptoms: symptoms began a few days ago but escalated yesterday X/X/202X. Minutes before arrival.

Tests indicate that the patient experienced this for the first time. Whatever stang him caused a strong reaction, far worse than allergy.

Some information we know:

Stinger bigger than that of any known insect.

Swelling of the face

Low energy, lower HP, lower statistics

Blisters and extreme reaction Mostly on the sternum where the soul is, the neck and the face.

Magic oozing/bleeding

Blisters (blood, fluids, magic)

Too much fluid, blood and magic, some of it clotted.

Light, faint scratches on body.

Some cracks on his bones

Trembling

Low appetite - No appetite

Nystagmus/ Dancing eyes

Sweating

Fatigue

Pain

Ophelia had read the message Papyrus sent her. She added the word

formication.

"Dr Ophelia..? I have some questions" Agatha's voice was low and small.

Ophelia stopped what she was doing. She looked at her, focused "Tell me honey, what's wrong?"

"I know it's propably too early but his statistics are still too low.. no matter the medicines we injected in him, I don't know... I'm worried".

Ophelia walked closer to her. One of the things she loved in her team was empathy. She gently held her arms and spoke in a soothing voice.

"About his statistics.. Don't worry, I don't want to give him way too strong medicines, cause I don't want to cause more damage than good. He is a little fragile, but he is stronger than that, fear not. I've been knowing him for a couple of years".

Ophelia looked at Agatha and continued holding her arms softly,

"without the results... we can't do much... I can't risk giving him wrong medication, but it will be okay!" she patted her shoulder.

Agatha nodded. "You all make me proud! Never forget that!" she added.

Agatha smiled and thanked her.

Hermione knocked on the Ophelia's office door. Urgently. Once she heard Ophelia's voice "It's open". Hermione entered.

"He is awake, shall I give him a sedative? He seems distressed and in pain". Hermione spoke.

Ophelia walked fast, but stopped at the door. Her attention at Agatha "Please stay here, I'll call you to send me some bandages, gauzes, medicines etc".

Agatha nodded and Ophelia gave her a sympathetic smile.

She reached the room.

"Farmy?" she called softly.

At the sound of her voice he rolled his head towards her.

His body trembled. He was distressed, confused and in pain. It was shown in his movements.

His soul beat was higher than normal. His breathing was frantic. He was moving quiet vividly. He tried to speak but all that came out was wheezing, choked whining - groaning sounds.

Ophelia touched his forehead softly. She began caressing tenderly his wrapped face. The gauze around the eyes began watering.

"Hey, Sansie... it's okay, I know waking up wrapped up in bandages is..scary. But, don't try to speak, save your strength. I am here, your brother and Axe are going to come later. They are fine! Now, I will give you a sedative, so you will sleep okay?"

He twitched his fingers a little. He nodded very softly.

She kept caressing his face. She motioned for Hermione to come closer.

She was holding the sedative already. Ophelia checked the dose and she nodded.

Ophelia kept caressing his face while Hermione injected the liquid in the IV.

Slowly his breathing and movement came to a halt. He passed out. His skull rolled under her touch.

She pressed a bottom "Agatha could you please bring me the equipment on room 5, 1st floor, thank you".

Agatha heard the message, checked the patient's info and took what she needed "coming right away Dr. Ophelia!"..

She walked towards the room, rolling a table with the equipment.

(Back to Papyrus and Axe)

Papyrus and Axe walked in. "Excuse me sir, may I help you?" the secretary asked.

"Good morning! Is Ophelia here? I would like to ask about my brother" Papyrus spoke playing with the corner of his scarf. Axe was silently standing next to him.

"May I have your brother's name please ?" she asked checking her notes and flipping the pages.

"Sans" he replied.

She checked. After a while she nodded. The secretary called Daniella. She looked at them and smiled "Follow me".

They nodded.

She lead them to the room.

They took a deep breath and Papyrus prepared to knock on the door.

Before he could do so, Hermione opened the door slowly and quietly.

They stared at each other. Papyrus hand still raised. They chuckled and saluted each other.

She exited the room while Papyrus and Axe walked in.

"Good morning Ophelia! Is he awake?" he asked keeping his voice low.

"He woke up but I gave him a sedative. I didn't want him to be in discomfort so.. He will wake up later or tomorrow" she stepped aside.

Papyrus's and Axe's soul clenched.

"I know, it's a lot to take in, he will be fine" she assured.

Papyrus gently touched the part on Sans's right humerus that wasn't covered in gauzes.

Ophelia looked at Papyrus and Axe.

"Would you like to help me guys?". They looked at her.

"Nothing difficult! I promise, I can sense you Harvey!" she nudged his ribs with her elbow.

He gave her a guilty smile but they nodded.

"It's not contagious! However, I'll ask you to put on some robes"

They nodded. Ophelia gave them two robes to put on. They put gloves and waited instructions.

"Okay Papyrus you will held him up, and Axe, you will be my assistant. Sounds good?"

Papyrus gently lifted him. He was like a rag doll. Papyrus feared he might break and turn to dust on the spot.

"Don't worry paps, he can't feel pain. He won't turn to dust! Not on my watch" she assured him.

Papyrus seemed to relax at that, he smiled.

"Alright, Paps please keep him steady".

Papyrus adjusted his body. She gently began unraveling the bandages. Some injuries hadn't healed fully yet.

Papyrus and Axe were quiet. Axe sighed with relief; the swelling had dissappeared.

His neck seemed fine apart from the spot she removed the stinger. It was still red and irritated.

Papyrus noticed it.

He looked at Axe, who had his eyes at the table in front of him.

Ophelia carefully stretched her hand "Gauze and antiseptic please".

Axe gave her clean gauze and some antiseptic lotion /gel.

She gently applied it on his face and cleaned it.

After that she applied the ointment and finally fresh bandages.

She moved on to the rest of the body. She carefully inspected the neck.

Axe kept giving her what she needed. Papyrus kept holding Sans and following directions.

The rest of his body was mostly fine, he had some areas that needed a little more ointment to heal.

When she finished, she took a look at his cracked 'forearm' "Let's take a look" she gently held it in her soft hands.

Papyrus held his other hand softly.

Axe just sat there looking, at the way Ophelia's soft healing magic worked. It took 15 minutes for the hand to heal.

Then they gently laid him down.

"Ophelia?" Papyrus began.

She looked at him "I still don't understand what happened could you explain us a little?"

"If I am not mistaken, I have seen a similar case before but I can't remember. I found a stinger on his neck, that dark reddish spot you saw. So far we have these symptoms" she handed hers and Lilian's notes.

Papyrus read it carefully.

"The stinger looked too big for a bee or any other insect".

Papyrus thought for a while and eventually asked "What about a Skolix..?"

Ophelia blinked "a what?"

He focused trying to remember "a Skolix. It's a dangerous worm to monsters but mostly to us skeletons, my brother had warned me that they are extremely rare but they exist.

He's been taking my non-existent ears about it so, could you please take a look? I'll see if he has any books about it".

Ophelia looked at him impressed "Sure! Thanks!" she smiled surprised.

He smiled back.

Ophelia said "It's a beautiful day outside, I recommend you go out in the park below and take some fresh air. I'll inform you if something happens"

A part of them didn't want to leave him but Ophelia was right.

They gave Sans's hands a little squeeze and left.

Ophelia walked towards Lilian "Hey any luck?"

"No" he said looking through files. It's taking forever. It's a rare stinger. I haven't seen something like this before from what I can remember".

"Hey, Lilian? Can you check something for me?"

"Of course! What is it?" he looked at her with anticipation.

"See if you can gather information about a worm named Skolix"

He looked at her confused.

Was that even a worm?

Yet, he nodded anyway.

His job might be easier now that he has a clue.

"Thank you Lilian!" Ophelia patted his shoulder and she left.

END OF CHAPTER 4

Chapter 3 Chapter 5

Comments, Constructive Criticism, Feedback, fanarts, fanfics are welcomed! 💙

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bunbeeplays · 3 months

Text

The Lemon Legacy: Generation 1, Chapter 94 - An Heir is Born

Ophelia and Xander arrive at the hospital and are quickly greeted by the obstetrician on duty. She spins into her hospital gown and follows the doctor back to her room until she's ready to start pushing. It's still early so they're going to monitor her progress until she's ready.

Doctor: Alright Ophelia, it looks like you're 1 centimeter dilated. We'll need to wait until you're at 10.

Ophelia: 10? That's so much more than 1…

Doctor: Don't worry, there are some things you can do to help the dilation process.

Ophelia rides on the exercise ball as the doctor recommended, hoping it'll speed things up. Xander asks the doctor questions, and normally Ophelia would appreciate Xander's interest in the birthing process but the pain makes her feel more irritable and annoyed than usual.

Eventually the doctor leaves to give the couple some space. Xander offers to rub Ophelia's back to relieve the pain.

Xander: I know it hurts, Lemon Cake, I know…

He hates seeing Ophelia suffer but they both know it'll be worth it when it's all over.

It's been hours and she's still only 3 centimeters dilated.

Ophelia is starting to regret her decision to give birth naturally. She's exhausted from how much pain she's in, so she takes a nap while Xander grabs a bite to eat, since he forgot to eat breakfast in his panic.

After her nap, Ophelia tries to ease the pain by swaying with Xander. It helps a little.

Xander: There's no shame in taking an epidural.

Ophelia: I know. I think I can hold out…

The pain of her next contraction hits her like a sack of bricks, and Ophelia's lucky Xander's got a good grip on her or she might have fallen down.

Ophelia: Xander?

Xander: Yeah?

Ophelia: Get the doctor… and tell him to bring a damn epidural needle with him.

Doctor: Alright, here we go.

The epidural is quick and painless, and Ophelia finally feels some relief to the immense pain from her contractions. She's getting closer and closer to being ready to go into labor.

Doctor: It looks like you're 9 centimeters dilated. You're almost ready! Hang in there.

Xander: Almost ready? Okay okay, you can do this, Xander, deep breaths-

Ophelia: Why are you the one panicking? I'm the one pushing this kid out of my plumbob! And get off that thing!

Ophelia takes a walk around the hospital and buys a sandwich from the cafeteria. It sucks and she hates it. She's just ready to get the show on the road and take her baby home. She'd better get to 10 centimeters soon.

One more dilation check and…

Doctor: 10 centimeters! Looks like you're ready to start pushing. Let's get you in the birthing room.

Ophelia: Finally! Get this kid out of me!

Doctor: Alright, Ophelia, I'm going to need you to give me a big push.

Xander: Are you going to be able to see?

Doctor: I'm a trained professional, sir, I work with pixelated body parts all the time.

Ophelia screams as the pain of pushing a whole Sim out of her body hits her. She tries to control her breathing to keep from hyperventilating.

Xander: It's okay, baby, you're doing great.

Ophelia: NNNNNNNGGGG

Doctor: That's it, keep going! You're crowning!

Xander's kind of glad The Watcher removed the Wicked Whims mod so he can't see what's going on down there. It doesn't sound fun.

Ophelia prides herself on being strong, but she's never experienced a pain like this before.

Ophelia: I can't do this! MAKE IT STOP!

Doctor: You're going to be okay, Ophelia. I can see the head. Keep pushing! She's almost here!

Xander: You're doing amazing, just a little longer. I know you can do this.

Doctor: We need a few more pushes!

Ophelia musters up the last few shreds of energy she has and follows orders.

Ophelia's groans of discomfort are interrupted by a high-pitched cry.

Their doctor lifts the baby up and presents her to her parents.

Doctor: Congratulations, Mom and Dad. It's a healthy baby girl.

Xander: There she is, Lemon Cake. There's our little muffin.

Doctor: I know newborns all look basically the same, but I have to say, this is one of the prettiest babies I've ever delivered.

Ophelia doesn't really process what he's saying. She was never one to believe in love at first sight, but she was wrong. So, so wrong.

Ophelia's pain subsides. She barely remembers she had just been in labor. Nothing else matters. It was all worth it.

Ophelia: Hello, sweet girl. Am I excited to see you.

Xander: You did it, babe. She's perfect.

Welcome to the Lemon Legacy, Gemma Lemon!

#The Sims #The Sims 4 #The Sims 4 Legacy #The Lemon Legacy #TS4 #The Sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 #generation 1 #ophelia #xander #gemma

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practically-an-x-man · 6 months

Note

Your OCs are walking down the street when they hear a fire alarm go off and a short semi-felid alien run down the street with singed eyebrows and an armload of several fire extinguishers. It's Reyna, she accidentally blew up her lab again while tinkering. What do they do?

Oooh good one! Thank you!

Rae: Immediately jumps in to help, using an energy shield to cut off the air supply to the fire and keep it from spreading. Doesn't seem to react much to the fact that Reyna isn't quite human - she's seen plenty of mutants in her time.

Robin: Would help in any way she could think off - potentially using sound waves to snuff out the fire, though she's drawing a bit of a blank on how her sonic abilities could help with this one.

Madison: Wants to help, but she's not sure how she could - her abilities are quite literally suited to the opposite of fire. She'd help man a fire extinguisher, though.

Ophelia: Also jumps right in to help, she's blown up her own lab a few times and she knows the feeling. Assuming the lingering trauma of her own death doesn't freeze her up, she'll grab her actuators and a few fire extinguishers and work to help however she can.

Jasper: Uses their empathic sense to check for survivors in or around the lab, and would provide medical aid to anyone who needs it.

Kestrel: At the very least, would shapeshift into a larger form and help Reyna carry the fire extinguishers (those things are HEAVY when they're full, I speak from experience). If they could, they'd try to help in other ways, but they don't have any charms strong enough to nullify the fire.

Katherine: Semi-felid, you say? Well, her strongest link to the gods is through Bastet, so she may be able to tap into that magic and offer Reyna additional strength/healing/resilience to salvage her lab.

Quinn: Honestly... probably not a whole lot. She's not going to call the cops since she hates police, she can't carry a fire extinguisher since she needs her hands free for her crutches, and she's definitely not about to run into a burning building. Just... good luck with that, Reyna.

Eris: If they're feeling generous, he might offer to run in and get any other survivors (or expensive tech) since her healing factor would be able to withstand the fire.

Nikoletta: Would try to use shadows to suffocate the fire, or potentially jump through shadows to help Reyna salvage what she can from the lab

#my friends!!!#answered asks #my ocs #jasper wilson #ophelia octavius #madison douglas #oc quinn/aces #oc kestrel #rae mckinney #robin cassidy #oc katherine johnson #oc eris #nikoletta bordeaux

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candikin · 2 years

Text

Info Dump (Lexi's Group, yea it's a long one)

Lexi KittyBow Mary [OC]

[BASIC PERSONALITY]: Friendly, Mentally Unstable, Opinionated, Insecure

[INFO]: If there was a fourth highest rank, she would be it. She's the Airship Divison's only medic, which causes her to almost always be burnt out and tired. Despite this, she tries her best to seem cheeful and full of energy. It's all fake however and she really just wants to give up on life

[STATUS ON TIMELINES]: Aware

[VOICE CLAIM]: rät by Penelope Scott

[VOICE ACCURACY]: 5/5

Reginald Copperbottom

[BASIC PERSONALITY]: Dramatic, Anxious, Flirty (Though Also Easily Flustered), Loyal, Insecure

[INFO]: The leader of the clan. He always has had a big crush on Lexi, but thinks Lexi wouldn't like him, so he doesn't even bother. He can loyal, but it's only to people he is close with

[STATUS ON TIMELINES]: Unaware

[VOICE CLAIM]: Not decided

Heather Sweater Weather [OC]

[BASIC PERSONALITY]: Tough, Quick With Emotions, Open Book

[INFO]: Retired popstar from the underground, though she still constantly sings. Her emotions are almost always super dramatic. She's always trying her best to live her best life, even in a world where monsters are treated terribly

[STATUS ON TIMELINES]: Somewhat Unaware

[VOICE CLAIM]: Bubblegum Bitch by Marina and The Diamonds

[VOICE ACCURARY]: 5/5

Robert Loverman [OC]

[BASIC PERSONALITY]: Underdog, Optimistic, Open-Minded, Honest

[INFO]: The last human... on earth? Nobody knows if they are telling the truth or not about that. They want to known as a singer, but are stuck in the Everwoods. They love to hear other opinions and topical stuff, causing them to know the latest things. They never know enough information about those said things however, so it ends up being completely useless most of the time

[STATUS ON TIMELINES]: Somewhat Unaware

[VOICE CLAIM]: Baby Hotline by Jack Stauber

[VOICE ACCURARY]: 4/5

May Baggins [OC]

[BASIC PERSONALITY]: Shy, Basically If Embarrassment Was A Person, Mentally Unstable

[INFO]: She always hides under the bag, almost never ever taking it off. She would never eat meat, causing her to be pretty weak. She constantly has mental breakdowns and almost everybody avoids her due to it. She also mentions that she is training to join the military, but has gotten lost in the Everwoods

[STATUS ON TIMELINES]: Unaware

[VOICE CLAIM]: Aishite [COVER] by Jubyphonic

[VOICE ACCURARY]: 3/5

Ana Loser [OC]

[BASIC PERSONALITY]: Annoyed, Skeptical, Opinionated, Rude

[INFO]: She's blind, this wouldn't bother her if people would just stop mentioning it. Due to people constantly annoying her and treating her unfairly due to her blindness, she treats them back with disrespect. This eventually made her do it to everyone. She always has a strong opinion on someone, even when she barely knows them, and it's almost always negative

[STATUS ON TIMELINES]: Aware

[VOICE CLAIM] Serial Killer by Slayyyter

[VOICE ACCURARY]: 5/5

Kara Pink [OC]

[BASIC PERSONALITY]: Clingy, Obsessive, Nonsensical, Mentally Unstable

[INFO]: Spawned outta nowhere. Lexi claims she came during Toppat King and never left, but nobody helps with her claim. She sometimes says a sentence that sounds like a AI generated it. She has a GIANT obsession on Lexi, she claims it is what love is... but no, no it's not. It's so much worse

[STATUS ON TIMELINES]: Aware

[VOICE CLAIM] Reckless Battery Burns by GHOST and Pals [OPHELIA VERISON]

[VOICE ACCURARY]: 4.5/5

(also you have my permission to use my OCs literally however you like, even in NSFW, just don't say they're yours)

#henry stickmin #henry stickmin au #the henry stickmin collection #henry stickmin oc #thsc #lexi mary #lettertale #oc dump #info dump

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theyinyangdragon · 2 years

Text

Alright ramble time about my sunshine

Ophelia “Sua” Van

Their parents were never in the picture and instead was raised by their uncle their entire life. Even with the difference of their life to others, they still had a nice childhood nevertheless and they loved their uncle. They knew he wasn’t their father to begin with but their relationship was strong. He’s also their reason of their love for motorcycles and have gained a motorcycle when going to college.

Sua has a love for graphic novels, video games, the ocean especially jellyfishes, and photography. They’re an amazing photographer and knows how to take a picture. Often they’re likely around taking pictures of things around town, or hanging around just dozing off in their imagination at a park for example.

They had a lot of dreams when they were little and many belong in the world of entertainment and creation. They love art and films, something that they still think of, with rather somber feelings now looking back.

Bullying was something they’re used to growing up, because they were the weird kid. Those times it never bothered them, maybe because they didn’t realized it was bullying, perhaps they didn’t care making them an unfunny target. All through their childhood they were around one person and that was Ian Duff, childhood friend and high school sweetheart. His dreams of being an actor inspired them to do their own dreams. Dreams of being an artist and to work in the entertainment industry. However compare to Ian, their success was never thriving like Shaun or Ian. Their ideas gotten rejected too many times and their work wasn’t good enough. Even so they tried their hardest, even doing some kind of modeling gigs to get through college and also gained experienced in the industry. They tried to get advices, anything to improve their image or how to refine their work but it left them the same dead end they found themself in.

They graduated but their confidence had died and they felt disillusioned of their dreams unsure what to do but to continue their modeling gig to at least keep afloat and a job at the Popov’s Big Top Yogurtopia. People were going places in their life, Shaun was for sure with his film. At least they had Ian, or that’s what they had thought. He got to go to a performing art school and then proceeded to cheat on them.

My personal HC is the person he cheated reminds them of MC in some way. So the ‘person’ in question is someone who has some traits to Sua/Sunshine.

So yeah, that destroyed Sua knowing the person they knew had destroyed their trust and it spiral them into depression. They became a mess and had many issues since then. Trust issues was one of them. As much as they want to leave the apartment both they and Ian have rent together they can’t. They didn’t have the fund needs and their two jobs will not support them on their own. Plus they don’t really have the energy to get moving out. Nor have they touched their motorcycle since learning of his cheating.

They could return home to their uncle yes, but they don’t want to burden him with their problems. Their uncle was incredibly pissed at Ian, telling them he will get them a new man who is better which they have to repeatedly tell him to not do that.

They’re trying to move on, they really are but they want to present themself to be independent to do so. They are saving money the best they can, working hard, and dealing with their complex emotions. They sometimes can’t help look back to their past, noticing how different they are compare to their present self. A disheveled mess.

But that’s okay. They’re working on themselves bit by bit. One day they’ll use the social media as they used to. They’ll handle their troubles in a safe manner and most of all, perhaps they’ll get it through.

Though now a Clown in the mix best know how to handle that first.

#Sua #sunny day jack #something wrong with sunny day jack #sunny day jack oc

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scentedchildnacho · 5 months

Text

I think it's just eco centric equality.....Giovanni confesses to the main character so the main character apologizes to womankind.....I would call it new yorker man....new yorker man.....ophelia this all desire to marry a man?......lot tells them to take the daughters not the son?......so it's just including people in something like having gay friends who admit their gay and take you to it's social theory sometimes....that's me about the civil right and discrimination....if its that woman gender she is never right for not to be.....

I didnt have enough enzymes to handle the drinking loss i had not been a fat child so he wouldnt invite me to go....i wasnt a fat child and now look I'm alive and that person faded

I think if a Mexican would have reviewed it they are always going to these anti social parties....and where is the Mexican social party with lots of young models and a heaven for the english working classes where beautiful strong young people sing and dance

That in some way is the believable lie of the social theory that all the characters live lonely anti social lives because of money and why would people stay in Paris if they were going to be lonely all the time

Paris is nice and it's like the city of love how could they in the whole first half of the book never attended an art reception?

Or go to see fashion?

Or admit Truman Capote the sad characters kind of sickly are the strong beautiful young people

Their never fascinated by Americans but the whole book is about him being a sentimentalist liberal character who dislikes his temper at structuralists confessions of having to be themselves

I told her about homelessness that it can't recover as it is to a normative because something finds innocense suspect and overly important....and something is very frightened of innocence and hates it....

I told her I can't be out there anymore now that the buildings tremble from rocket car main street

It reminds me of a poem from ondaatje about him finally shooting the rats in the old barn because all of it including himself ate the spoiled fermented out of date grain and the rats started fighting one another.....so tolerant between us homeless it's something who would want to aggravate

The older homeless told me they prefer hiding....

The county is in the streets now and counties advertise a real fight show and I don't want to I have an old soul and dislike for not putting on a good regulated show....they will fight the young people so it's having to stay moving to stay out of colleges always trying to to use ones life for the immense part of life college jobs refuse to help with

I finished the book...I did feel kind of bad for Giovanni sympathized with the narrator even though the narrator was scared of him and disagreed with his thoughts on women...the narrator didnt like his incriminations

Giovanni just admitted he was a beater and prefers time with men....im not gay so I don't know how things only for women are dealt with more societally.....but not equity and fights is not a party worth anyone's time

My friends in Florida had an apple with a list of criminal names to release and I've thought about who to let go at jobs for it's dictatorial position of everything there's you nothing then Vlad the impaler also......but I'm not sure I want to look into these parties at them for it wasn't cute or funny it just scared people

Vlad I mirror Vladimir golf Putin

He has the stops and paused though so you can really feel how relieving his fiance is and how relieving when she gets to leave because his energy would have caused her to abort

She had started to look grumpy and frumpy and he longed for military clean money

I mirror they can be every gender the Russians and your their money partly

The narrator is so honest with all his sexual liasssons then feels bad about it later....if he would have married Giovanni Giovanni wouldn't have done it?

I told her complete strangers keep asking me about my family and I have to tell them intimate things so they feel touristed....Im not really comfortable telling complete strangers but I'm a homeless lady there is no family none at all...

They would want to know secrets of how to divorce without battery so I tell them the family does better then I do financially so their not my family real family doesn't leave people behind and expect them to figure out dr dre on how liquor fiends trap people in inner cities to die deaths they felt obligated to do

Dr Dre....the liquor nigger out on deer springs road out of San Marcos to high way fifteen should not have to tolerate inner cities bothering his private practice out by the native school of life....there may be is a suicide pogrom out there that doesn't allow vagrancy to audition

I don't enjoy people who won't allow me a public pay phone and a restroom.......at a gas station rest stop for floor to ceiling liquor sales....if you go to the rest room in back you could be accused of stealing....

I told the police I have never been to a state meaner then California....till I would Alabama it and prefer agriculture out there and flight military projects and a nice gas station attendant they don't legalize class action substance here so liquor ho goes away

Deer springs road is not a nice road the agricultural cows are just gone from the hills the horses are just gone from an equestrian park and a preserve was slashed up for a golf course

That's me about veteran housing there is that golf course there that could just be a neighborhood so

Nativists are vaccine terrorists....till eliminativists decide native philosophy is so institutionalized it's lost its fosterage claim of Being

Dian fossey I do blame a woman for eliminativist necessity out there....she was like liquor niggers teacher and help off the street or PTSD maybe

Anyway I found out my salvation was anti biotics if I'm such a competent adult that secretly manipulated behind my just a woman face then why did police have to keep confronting shelter ma'ams with did that lady get her anti biotics after your shallow demands

I admitted to my case worker it's been my experience that shelters have the most shallow demands of the poor though they claim they most often work with the poor the very thought of having a rash around how vain shelters are is enough for me to suspect a woman who murdered her husband to stop by to want to kill people of raid poisons

People too vain in expectation of the poor have a woman about them who may really serial kill....

Like Herod issued a decree to murder baby boys type of aids story

Chicago culture al Capone I was sexually assaulted as a minor and now I have needs to control class action substance to my benefit

If the liquor is so valuable people have to die of public defecation then it should have been locked behind the counter or in the cellar

That's me about bitchy....I wasn't getting my anti biotics and had been strictly trained high functioning attack cat trained to go to the pop box

If I can just go to a shelter and get a job then my salvation is I do have a heart condition without these basic welfare demands met they can't decide anything further about....

White earth people of anishaanabe.....that I found out is what's obvious about my people and I don't have to think too much about it

I did explain to my counselors that California is so mean it would be better that I viewed Temecula as a reservation and go to it before any more shocking natchez story multi culturalism causes more unnecessary conflict

Because large fascistic cities are told they cannot have public transport out to white areas acting as creepy as they do

I explained I wanted to go to shelter in Temecula because I just like saying the shelter name and it appears to want publicity like the woke virus.....so I think something white happened to me....

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hardfcclings · 4 years

Text

#i cant explain it #the ophelia energy is just so strong #ophelia jacobs ( all )#ophelia jacobs ( visual )

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apples-of-eden · 2 years

Note

Diaboys. How would you describe your lovers personality?

Laito: "Odd, idiotic, and shy if you want the short version of it. But In general, I'd say Natsu is quite aloof, does her own thing, and has her own ways of doing things even if it isn't the most practical. Jokes tend to go over her head and it's quite easy to tease her without her realizing it, honestly. She's not fond of new people or those she doesn't know well, so I actually like that if it means more time of her choosing to spend with me. She can be smart, but it's more book smarts over any other intelligence. So at least she's smart in that area. I sometimes fake needing school help just so she also has to be with me, because why not?"

Kanato: "Tomoky isn't a perfect Doll, but indeed seems like she tries to. She obeys all my commands and does whatever I ask her to, she learns pretty quickly, right, Teddy? Fu fu... I think she was predestined to be with me, after all, the other girls are obnoxious. She just suits me."

I've got to add, though, I pretty much had to tame her, Doll is much more obedient than she was before, she used to play smart and try to confront me... Pathetic."

Reiji: “My dear Mana actually has quite some layers to her so it is not something to just put into simple words.If you are however asking me for a rather brief summary, she is a very intelligent and strong-willed woman though a bit of an airhead sometimes.”

Subaru: “ーー An idiot. Sharon’s the kinda girl who’d walk into a trap with her damn eyes wide open. Not only is she way too trustin’ of others, but she really needs to be more careful ‘round those shitty brothers of mine! I’ve warned her a million times by now but she never learns, damnit!

...What? You expected me to say somethin’ positive as well? Che. Guess I’ve got no other choice. ...As much as her kindness gets on my nerves when it’s directed at others, it feels kinda nice to have someone care ‘bout you...Ahー How should I put it? Bein’ together helps me calm down. ...Her smile’s pretty cute too. ...O-Oi! Don’t you dare tell her I said that, ‘kay!?

Shu: "Ophelia? Ah, my beloved Ophelia. I can say that she is a person with a lot of energy, sometimes she gets me quite tired but I still love to hold her close because she is very calm. *Chuckles* "And if I use the right method I can make her quiet very quickly~. Also her personality can be so unpredictable that it is a challenge to find out what she will do"

#diabolik lovers oc #diabolik oc #diabolikloversoc #ask blog #apples of eden #anon ask #anonymous #roleplay

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drawlfoy · 3 years

Text

detention, retention, and draco malfoy being a little shit

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no not really

summary: golden trio friend y/n y/l/n tries to extract information out of draco malfoy after being placed in detention together.

warnings: swearing, panic attack kinda stuff, just the dark war things that would come w having the task that draco does

a/n: ayo so i started this as a fic i was originally planning on writing in a week. i discontinued it bc i didn’t think anyone was that interested, but i’ve written for it on and off. it’s about 16k words right now standing, but i’m reposting this as a 2 part series. here are the first ~12k words....enjoy :) IMPORTANT: if you’re like “hey i started reading this in october why tf are you reposting the first two parts” just keep reading ok lmao i promise there’s more there’s about through part 6 in here hehe. i just wanted new readers to be able to pick up on it without being turned off by the fact that it was part 3. this will b e 2 parts and at least 20k words

word count: 11.6k

taglist: @gruffle1 @missmultifandommess @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell

happy reading y’all

For legal purposes, the york pudding she lobbed at Pansy Parkinson’s head on Monday evening was simply meant to be a joke. She didn’t know that her aim was bad enough that it was going to get in Snape’s hair instead--honestly, it wasn’t even supposed to get past the Ravenclaw table, much less veer to the left to make a beeline for the professors--but no matter how much she tried to explain this to McGonagall, her sentence remained the same: detention every Friday. For two months.

Her life was ending for sure.

“I honestly don’t know what you were expecting,” Hermione told her as she gently wiped off the nib of her quill later that night in the common room. “Even if you had hit your mark, that’s still technically assault.”

“Did you even hear what she said to me? She told me that I looked like the type of kid that bit people in primary school,” complained Y/N. “I didn’t even think she knew what primary school was!”

Hermione snorted. “How long ago?”

“Two days. I’ve been waiting until there was something throwable on the dinner table.”

“How very analytic of you.”

“I’m going to hit you.”

“And you wonder why you’ve got detention.” Hermione tsk-ed at her, her face stone serious but her tone light hearted. “Maybe take this as an opportunity to, I don’t know, do your homework for once? So you won’t have to have a breakdown over the next Potion’s essay and beg me to write it for you?”

“I’m going to go to sleep and think terribly mean thoughts about you.”

“Have fun.”

Detention.

Something that Y/N wasn’t completely unfamiliar with--she’d done her time organizing Snape’s cabinets, just like every other Gryffindor--but it was different when it came to McGonagall. An impressive old lady, she thought that McGonagall saw something in her. She was always the first to chuckle at Y/N’s jokes and hesitated to reprimand her stupid behavior. And she never gave Y/N detention.

Until now, she supposed. 6th year was changing a lot of things--even their Potions professor--so McGonagall turning a new stone shouldn’t have been anything shocking.

At least, not as shocking as the first thing Y/N saw as she walked into her house head’s office.

“Malfoy?” she spat.

The platinum blonde didn’t even bother to look up from his desk.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor McGonagall chided. “I think we would all prefer if you restrained yourself from getting into any more physical altercations with Slytherins.”

She huffed, plopping down in the chair furthest away from that foul git and reaching for her satchel.

“I’ll be back in two hours,” said the elderly professor. “If I hear anything, and I mean anything, other than the sound of studying, consider your sentence doubled.”

With a swish of her robes, McGonagall was gone, leaving her with Malfoy.

“So what’d you do to get in here, huh? Did the administration finally get a hold of that video of you licking Voldemort’s toes?”

“What the fuck does that mean?!” he snapped, whipping around to glare at her.

“‘s just a joke,” said Y/N. “Like--how everyone says your family houses him and everything--but whatever. I can tell it’s a sore spot.”

His gaze, never withering in intensity, remained trained on her face. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Apparently so. What’re you here for?”

He exhaled sharply. “If I tell you, will you shut up and let me think?”

“No promises, but maybe.”

“Late work. I forgot to turn in the Transfiguration exam last week.”

She made a tutting sound as she lazily shuffled through the crumpled parchment in her satchel. “I expected more from you. Aren’t you gonna ask me how I wound up here?”

“No. I am going to ask you to stop talking now, though.”

“That’s terribly unfortunate,” Hermione said over breakfast the next morning. Ron and Harry were nervously chit chatting at the other side of the table over the Saturday Quidditch game against Hufflepuff--supposedly it was supposed to be quite a high stakes match. Not like Y/N cared much, though.

“Yeah! And the worst part was that he won’t even tease anymore. Like, he just sits there all broody and woe is me. We’re all witnessing our nation’s descent into war--he’s not special!”

“Who are you talking about?” asked Harry.

“Oh, just Malfoy,” said Y/N. “We have detention together with McGonagall. He’s such a nasty little greaseball, don’t you think? I mean, look at him right now, glowering over his cereal.”

“Wait! That’s it!”

“What’s it, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“It’s genius, really,” he said. “Y/N has to spend time with him alone every week, and we know that something is up with him. Malfoy is absolutely a Death Eater and has connections to You-Know-Who, but I just need to find a way to prove it.”

“I vaguely forecast where this is going, and I hate it already.”

“Listen, Y/N. It’s not for that long, and it’s for the health of the wizarding world. If you just get to know him--”

“Ick!”

“If you just get to know him, maybe get him to trust you and find out his secrets...we’d finally have enough to turn him in and throw him out of Hogwarts for good.”

“Is that really necessary, Harry?” Ginny butted in from her seat further down next to Dean. “Malfoy’s probably just exhausted like the rest of you. 6th year is difficult, and we have no solid evidence that he’s a Death Eater. I’m sure being stuck in a room with him for 2 hours is hard enough without pretending to be nice to him.”

“But what if Harry’s right?” said Y/N. “What if he is actually a Death Eater? What if he’s an active danger to the student body?”

“Exactly!” The joy written across Harry’s face at the prospect of someone else finally agreeing was infectious. “So will you?”

“Er…” She dragged her spoon across the top layer of her porridge. “In theory, sure. In actuality, I’m not sure how I could do it. Malfoy doesn’t want anything to do with me, either.”

“Love potion?” offered Ron.

“I don’t care how much of a prat he is, I’m not roofying him.”

“I rarely agree with you, Y/N, but I think you’re right. If you want to do this, you need to get him to trust you for real.”

“Your back-handed compliment skills never disappoint, Hermione. Do you think you could help me out with a plan?”

A slow smile spread across the girl’s face as she nodded. “That’s my strong suit.”

The plan they laid out over the remainder of the day was ambitious but at least do-able. Each week was split into different subtasks, the end goal being a somewhat tentative friendship between the two.

“If you can flirt with him and get him to have a crush on you without scaring him off, you’d be in the best possible position,” Hermione told her as they walked back from the Quidditch pitch among the screaming Gryffindor fans. They’d won--yet again. “Obviously I don’t foresee that being likely, but if you pull it off somehow he’d probably be willing to tell you anything. The fact that you’re a pureblood is going to carry you through this whole ordeal. He’ll at least be accepting of your existence in the wizarding community.”

The bitter edge in Hermione’s tone made Y/N’s blood boil. There was no reason for Malfoy to be as prejudiced as he was--he’d spent his adolescence in Hermione’s academic dust. She was obviously smarter than him.

“You got it, ‘Mione,” she said. Her voice barely carried over the cheers of her peers as they ascended the steps to the common room. “We’ll take this little ferret down. I can’t wait.”

“Don’t get too cocky, now.”

The Gryffindor after-party was crazy...per usual. The charmed self-filling goblets, the blasted playlist of Wizpop pumping through the air, and the buzzing energy of the room was giving Y/N a giant headache. She stood with Hermione and Harry by the edge of the crowd, watching Ron get hoisted up on the shoulders of the chasers.

“No wonder the Slytherins think we’re Neanderthals,” Y/N mused. For once, Hermione didn’t respond. “Hermione? Is everything okay?”

The second she turned away to look at her best friend, gasps and whistles filled the room. She whipped back just in time to see Lavender Brown, a sweet but slightly ditzy girl in their year, pull away from a kiss with Ron.

“Oh shi--Hermione!”

Harry and Y/N shared a glance before darting after the witch--who had impressively already made it to the door.

“Hermione, wait!” Y/N called as they jogged after her, throwing open the common room entrance and finding her sat by the tapestry on the other side of the hall, knees to her chest.

“‘Mione, what’s wrong?” asked Harry.

“Don’t be daft, Harry,” said Y/N. “You saw exactly what the rest of us did.”

“I don’t understa--”

“Harry.” Her voice was taut. “I know you’re just trying to help, but I think that it might be best if you let us be. Go back and enjoy the party.”

He gave her a tight, grateful smile before darting back through the door. Y/N wasted no more time in walking over to Hermione and throwing her arms around her shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, hugging her tight. Hermione made no move to detach them, so she continued. “Ron is an idiot. You deserve so much better--your first kiss was Viktor fucking Krum, after all. You’re hot stuff and this place is just unfortunately running dry of men who are impressive enough for you. Once you’re out of here and working in the Ministry, you’re gonna have the time of your life with men actually in your league.”

Hermione managed a sniffly laugh as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “It’s just so fucking embarrassing, you know. Like, I have a crush on him because I think he understands me and I smelled him in my Amortentia and I thought he’d like me back, but…” She hiccuped. “Then he goes off and kisses Lavender Brown, of all people. There’s nothing particularly wrong with her or anything, but she’s so different...I’m so bookish, and she’s so girly and everything I’m not…”

Y/N took the opportunity to tuck a lock of Hermione’s hair behind her ear as she listened.

“And it can’t help but make me think--was I ever anything to him but a friend? If the girl he ends up choosing is the opposite of me?”

“Girly, don’t think like that,” murmured Y/N. “He’s a teenage boy. They don’t think of love the way that we do--to them it’s a game of availability, not of choice. At least for Ronald. You intimidate him, and by extension, you’re not available.”

“That shouldn’t matter!”

“You’re right. It shouldn’t.” Y/N drew a long breath. “So you should find someone who always has you as their first choice--someone who isn’t intimidated by your intellect. They’re out there. I promise.”

Hermione managed a shaky smile. “Thanks, Y/N. I mean it. Do you mind if I have some alone time? I don’t think I’m ready to go back to the party but I just want some quiet.”

“Of course. Let me know if you need me,” she said, brushing herself off and making to walk down the hall.

“You’re not going back to the party?”

“Nah. It hurts my head and I want fresh air. If I’m not back here in a half hour, assume that I’ve been kidnapped.”

With that, she started her walk. She wasn’t planning on going on a long stroll--there was a small balcony that she often went to when she needed to clear her head. It was beautiful, especially on a snowy night like this.

But the walk was creepy.

There was only one way in and out--a narrow, damp hallway that had absolutely no light fixtures. If Y/N really wanted to, she could cast a quick lumos, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to see what lived on the walls. The stairs were steep, too, but she managed to bound up all 40 of them in record time.

“Who’s there?”

The sudden voice ripped a scream out of Y/N’s throat as she reached the top, catching a glimpse of the shadowy figure at the edge of the balcony that spoke. She clasped her hand over her mouth and she crept forward to the opening, getting a better look at the person that was in her secret spot.

The clouds shifted in the sky to allow more moonlight to cast a soft glow on Malfoy’s face, hardened with irritation.

“Malfoy?” Y/N asked, rather dumbly.

“What stellar observational skills,” he drawled.

She felt her cheeks grow hot. “What are you doing here? This is part of the Gryffindor tower. Shouldn’t you be...I don’t know...playing hide and seek with the sewer rats in the dungeons?”

“Very funny.” His flat tone exposed the fact that he did not, in fact, find it very funny. “There’s no rule barring me from coming up here.”

“But why? This is my spot!”

“Because I wanted to get out. Now, I was here first, so unless you want your detention extended, I suggest you leave.”

Y/N bit the fiery comebacks on the tip of her tongue as the memories of her plan with Hermione began floating back to her.

Week 1 -- Hold one neutral, civil conversation with Malfoy.

“I’ll be quiet. You won’t even know I’m here,” Y/N decided upon. leaning up against the balcony. The rogue snowflakes that made it past the overhanging roof melted on her cheeks.

“That isn’t a suggestion,” said Malfoy. “I’m demanding you leave.”

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” Y/N asked, pointedly ignoring his words. “I’ve always loved the snow. It’s so quiet.”

“And it would be even quieter if you left.”

“Aren’t you the conversationalist?” said Y/N.

“If you don’t leave, I will hex you,” Malfoy told her through gritted teeth.

“I just love how the moonlight reflects off of the snow,” continued Y/N. “It’s so...pure.”

“Please leave.”

On her walk back down the dank stairwell, she allowed herself a little smile.

Task 1? Technically done.

The first week went largely as planned. Malfoy was cold and certainly suspicious of her, but he wasn’t completely venomous when Y/N asked where he got his quill from in Potions. It was silver, charmed to shimmer with flecks of forest green. He told her Barnaby’s in France, and that was that. She walked away from his table with all of her limbs attached. Perhaps that was all the progress she was going to make in the next few weeks, but the task at hand certainly made the prospect of her lost Friday afternoons more bearable.

Harry was going completely batty, rambling on about how Malfoy was behind the mysterious cursed objects that had been floating about the castle without explanation.

“And why would Malfoy bring cursed objects to Hogwarts if he has aspirations other than being expelled?” Hermione would ask over their books.

“You don’t understand, Hermione! You girls need to be careful walking around at night--especially you, Y/N. I don’t want you going missing after detention because of that slimeball.”

Y/N always gave him a laugh, berating him for his slight misogynistic commentary and turning back to whatever her task was, but the truth was that she was worried for him. The mental weight of the impending war and the fact that he couldn’t do anything about it was certainly getting too difficult for him to bear. It was heartbreaking to see the vivacious boy she’d grown up with crumble under the responsibilities of something he should never have to worry about in the first place.

Friday came much sooner than expected, and Y/N reluctantly left her friends in the common room to trek to McGonagall’s office. The walk was frigid and the wind bit at her cheeks as she rounded the last outdoor hall.

Why was this castle so dark?

A thump behind her made her jump, and Harry’s words came floating back to her.

Remember all those cursed objects? What if there’s someone just...stalking the school grounds, waiting for someone like me to snatch?

She shivered, throwing herself at the office door and slamming it behind her.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor McGonagall greeted, her eyebrows raised in amusement. “Something giving you trouble?”

“No, Professor,” she answered, setting her bag down on the desk next to Malfoy. He sent her a curious look as well. “It’s just cold outside.”

She chuckled. “I need to go speak to Headmaster Dumbledore. I expect that, upon my return, you both are in one piece and alive.”

“I’m not sure if I’m the one who needs to be given that speech,” said Y/N, bored and testing the waters.

“She’s right, Professor,” added Malfoy. “There’s no projectiles here.”

McGonagall exhaled a long, shaky breath before brushing herself off. “Please. Behave yourselves.”

“You got it, boss,” she said as she watched her Professor walk out the door. “So, Malfoy. How was your week?”

“I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’d way prefer if you didn’t speak to me,” he said, refusing to make eye contact.

“I’m not up to anything! We’re in detention together and, I dunno, since I see you sometimes at balls, I thought it’d be nice to be on good terms.”

“Good terms?” He scoffed. “You’re a Gryffindor. I’d rather you be a bloody Hufflepuff.”

“How about neutral terms?”

Even though he wasn’t looking at her, she could catch a glimpse of him rolling his eyes. “If neutral terms mean you being quiet, then, yes. Please.”

“I’ll be plenty quiet. After I hear about your opinion on what happened in Potions today with Brown and Weasley. When Snape yelled at them for holding hands.”

He let out a sharp sigh. “Believe it or not, I actually have better things to do than keep up with whatever stuff your house does.”

“But…?” Y/N pressed. She may not’ve spent her time at Hogwarts as Malfoy’s best friend, but she had grown up with the boy, and she could tell when he was holding back.

He stared blankly at her.

“Come on. I’m literally the only person in my house who’ll openly admit that they’re disgusted by that dynamic. I’m begging you.”

She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, but she thought she saw a flicker of amusement dance across his face for a moment. “Your house sounds more like a cult than a student group.”

“Oh, says the one from Slytherin,” said Y/N.

“We only act like that because our families are close. What’s your excuse? Hormones and Quidditch culture?”

“Touché.” As much as she wanted to fight back, she bit her tongue. Whatever she was doing was making progress, and quicker progress than she was expecting. Her next task was to make him laugh, and she was emboldened by the fact that she could potentially be able to kill two birds with one stone.

They sat in silence for a little bit, but this time, it was a comfortable silence. Malfoy wasn’t staring at the clock on the wall or rolling his eyes at her every move, so she had time to plot.

On one hand, she could make a fool of herself--drop her inkwell, say something stupid in class, fall down the stairs--but she had a sneaking suspicion that her sorry attempts at slapstick humor wouldn’t land well with Draco anymore. He’d become so serious lately, so solemn. This was the most light hearted she’d seen him, even compared with how he acted with the rest of his Slytherin lackeys.

On the other, she could try to sell out her friends. She could confide in him how “big” Hermione’s teeth were (they weren’t even big) or tell him that Ron smelled of eggs (true, but that was a low blow). Something told her that this would be much more successful, but she wasn’t willing to turn to that so quickly--she was already a week ahead as it was.

“What is it?”

Malfoy’s bored drawl cut through her flurried thoughts. Her cheeks turned pink as she blinked, noticing that she’d been staring at him for far too long. “Nothing. Sorry. I just spaced out.”

“Sure,” he mumbled, giving her another suspicious look before turning back to his work. “Can you maybe space out somewhere other than my face?”

“Where’s your vanity, Malfoy?” she pressed as she leaned back in her chair, hair swinging over the back.

“Shut up,” he snapped. She could tell that whatever connection they’d had in the fleeting moments beforehand was being burnt by the second, but her embarrassment and pride drove her forward.

“Merlin, what’s got you so wound up?” she prompted, noting how deliciously unraveled he looked at this. “Where’s my cool, collected Slytherin?”

He slammed hands on his desk at this, whipping around to glare at her. “What’s your angle, Y/L/N?”

“What?”

“Why are you bothering me?”

“Because I want to.” She beamed.

Malfoy ran his fingers through his hair, mussing up the usual neat manner in which it normally laid on his head. “Compelling. What do you want from me?”

“What do I want…?” She tilted her head at him, narrowing her eyes. “What?”

“You never talk to me,” he explained. “Obviously, I prefer it like that. I can’t help but wonder why suddenly you want to be making small talk. So, what is it you want from me?”

“Malfoy,” she said. “I think you’re a spoiled prick who thinks far too highly of himself and drives me insane. But I also think that you’re funnier than what my friends give you credit for. Granted, you’ve always been annoying, but I don’t want anything from you. I just want to, I dunno, make these next few months less insufferable.” Somehow the lie slipped through her teeth easier than any of her previous bluffs.

He frowned, his mouth opening once before firmly screwing shut into a scowl. “Oh.”

“No offense, Malfoy, but what else can you offer me other than your dazzling personality?” she teased. “You know my family. I don’t need to blackmail you to pay for jewelry I’ve had my eye on or anything.”

He scoffed. “As if I’d say yes.”

“Exactly my point. It’d be fucking weird. Merlin, I’m not trying to butter you up to buy out Borgin & Burkes for me. Do I give off gold-digger vibes? Is that what this is about?”

“Fucking hell.” Malfoy turned to her in disbelief. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Answer my question. Or better yet, pull out your wallet. Wait, did I say that out loud?” She mimed surprise and covered her mouth. “Oh no! What will my mother say now that I’ve squandered my last chance of hitching you? There’s no way I can go home for Christmas break now.”

He rolled his eyes so hard she found herself worried for a moment that they were going to just permanently get stuck in the back of his head. “Hate to break it to you, but you didn’t really have a shot to begin with.”

Ouch.

She huffed and dramatically flopped over the back of her chair, hoping he couldn’t see that she’d flinched. “So you don’t think I’m pretty??”

“Y/L/N,” he snapped, his voice a low warning. “Can I please just work? What is with you today?”

Y/N sent him a sour look before giving her Charms work another look. Malfoy was awfully quiet, and when she snuck any glances at him later on, he was angled to face away from her.

Why did she feel like such shit all of a sudden? She cataloged the past events, trying to pinpoint the exact moment that her stomach dropped. It all made sense when the words “You didn’t really have a shot to begin with” echoed around her head once again. She’d failed Harry. She’d failed Hermione. There was no way that she was going to be able to get him to reveal his secrets now--it’s not like he was confiding in even his closest friends as Harry made apparent when he explained how vague his statements were to his fellow Slytherins on the train. Her only chance would’ve been to somehow get him to fall for her, and that wasn’t going...great. And it had been a pipedream to begin with.

When McGonagall swished back into the classroom to dismiss them, Y/N shot out of there without even looking at Malfoy again. It felt like something was lodged in her throat and she was not going to cry in front of him. No, no. She had to make it to Hermione to tell her what was going on.

“Y/L/N?”

Malfoy’s voice made her pause in her flee as she nearly rounded the corner in front of her, but she refused to look back. It was far enough away that it was possible she didn’t hear him.

“Wait!”

She was up the stairs and speed walking as fast as her legs could carry her to the Gryffindor tower before he even saw which way she went.

“I don’t think you understand,” Y/N wailed by the fire as Hermione rubbed her shoulders and Harry sat awkwardly perched on the couch. “I can’t do this. The only way this was going to work was if he had a crush on me, and I don’t think he ever will. I fucked it up! The one time you guys need me, I fuck it up! I let you down!”

Hermione’s left hand stopped its rubbing to rest firmly on her shoulder. “Please don’t be upset. You didn’t let us down. Plus, you’re only, what...two weeks in? You don’t need him to like you to make it work. Just getting him to trust you will be enough, and you’re good at that.”

“I don’t think so,” continued Y/N. “Harry said that he wasn’t even that open on the train when he overheard him talking to all of his friends. And those are purebloods that he likes! That he’s trusted and known for years and years! I’m a friend of you guys, and he knows it. I think he’d figure it out quick.”

“We should take every chance we can get,” said Harry from his spot a few feet away, his eyes lazy and unfocused on the fire crackling in front of them. “You won’t let us down if you can’t get anything, Y/N, you know that! But if you got anything from him, it’d be incredible. It’s a win-win. I don’t understand why you’re so upset.”

“I’m not upset,” she said, her tone becoming defensive. “I just...don’t want to mess this up. I know how much it’d mean if I succeeded.”

“So just try!” Hermione said. “There’s nothing wrong with it. I’m sorry he was kind of mean to you today, but I don’t think that should bother you too much. He should be more afraid of what you’d say if you didn’t care about being a good person.”

“Fucking right on there,” she said, wiping away the frustrated tears. “If I was honest with him, he’d leave crying. He should be grateful that I’m taking this bet so I actually have to be nice to him.”

“That’s the spirit.” Harry leaned over to smack her back like he did his Quidditch teammates after a winning match.

After they’d parted their ways with Harry, Hermione and Y/N made their way slowly up the stairwell to the girls’ dorms.

“Y/N?” Hermione asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think, er…” She paused. “Do you think you were really upset about failing us today? Or was it something else?”

“What do you mean?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t see what else it would be.”

“I’m sorry,” responded the bright witch. “Forget I ever asked. It was a stupid thing to wonder about.”

“Weirdo,” she teased as she waved her a goodnight and made her way to her dorm.

The next morning, Y/N busied herself with revising her Charms essay over her breakfast--a cup of tea and a half-buttered piece of toast--while Hermione leaned over her shoulder, nodding or grimacing at the corrections she made.

“Did you work during detention? Like, at all?”

“‘Mione,” moaned Y/N. “It’s too early for this. I don’t want a lecture. I just couldn’t focus.”

Her warm brown eyes narrowed as they bore into Y/N’s face. “Why were you distracted?”

“Oh, I, uh…” She stumbled over her words as Hermione drew closer. “Merlin, Hermione. I told you last night. I just felt like I was letting you all down.”

“Mhm,” was all she got in response before her best friend tilted her head back down to the parchment in front of her.

Y/N sat, completely puzzled. What was Hermione on about? She’d been straightforward with what was hurting her--she didn’t want to mess up the only task the Golden Trio had ever given her--and, even if she hadn’t been, Hermione was smart enough to deduce things for herself. So what was she thinking about?

Her eyes drifted over to the Slytherin table where the usual 6th year pureblood gang loitered about, drinking black coffee and sulking--but Malfoy was not to be seen. She jumped when her eyes met Parkinson, her dark eyes burning into her soul as a deep scowl was written across her face.

“Malfoy, what the fuck do you want?” Ron’s voice pulled her back to reality to see him glaring somewhere behind her.

“I wasn’t here to talk to you,” a familiar voice drawled.

She turned to see Malfoy standing behind her, a sneer written all across his stupidly pretty face.

“Miss me already?” asked Y/N as she raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side.

“For fuck’s sake, stop doing that,” he mumbled, reaching into his pocket and throwing a box at her. “You forgot your quill. I took the liberty of properly storing it, because it seems like you lot like to just throw them in your bag. Makes me physically ill to watch.”

“Oh.” Y/N studied the intricate box in her hands before tucking it away in her knapsack. “Thanks? I guess?”

He nodded curtly, contorting his face into one last scowl to send to Ron before turning and leaving,

“So,” Hermione began, cutting her omelet at a much brisker pace, “I think we need to have a little chat. About...all of this.”

“Why?”

“Not right now,” she said, her voice low and her eyes flicking at Ron and Harry sitting across from them. “I don’t think it’d benefit us for them to hear.”

“Ok?” She cautiously took a bite out of her toast and continued staring Hermione down. “You’re scaring me.”

“It’s...I don’t know. I thought I was crazy for thinking this, but it seems like we need to talk about it anyways. For this little mission of yours to work, we need to be totally open and honest with each other.”

“Sure.” Y/N took another bite. “I honestly have no clue what’s got you so on edge, though.”

“Who’s on edge?” Harry asked, leaning over the table and stealing the croissant on Y/N’s plate.

“Hey!” she exclaimed. “Do you not see the entire plate of them over there?”

He laughed, sending her an easy grin and dunking a piece into the hot chocolate in his mug. “Finders keepers. Say, Y/N, are you busy next weekend? Ron and Lavender are going to Madame Puddingfoot’s together, and I know Hermione isn’t going to want to take a weekend off studying to go to Hogsmeade, so I thought that maybe we could go cause some trouble at the Cauldron.”

“If you stop stealing my food we can talk about it,” replied Y/N, the corners of her lips tugging up into a grin.

“Deal.”

Hermione tugged at her arm. “I just realized I need to get something out of my room before we watch the Quidditch game. Will you come with me, Y/N?”

“Sure!” said Y/N. “Gee, I’m rolling in invitations today.”

Once they exited the dining hall, though, it immediately became evident that they were not actually heading up to the dorms. Hermione dragged her into the nearest bathroom before casting a quick silencing charm.

“Myrtle! Are you in here?” Only when she was sure silence was the only response to her question, she seemed satisfied to turn to Y/N and begin talking. “When were you going to tell me that you have a thing for Malfoy?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Y/N felt the heat that had risen to her cheeks from the last quill-encounter re-emerge.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” said Hermione. “Are you seriously going to expect me to believe that you nearly sobbed over some random pureblood git telling you you never had a chance with him because it might slow down your progress with helping us? Actually? I’ve seen you look more ecstatic about hearing that your dear granny passed away.”

“To be fair, she had really good life insurance,” Y/N cut in. “And she was an old hag. Never had a nice thing to say to me.”

“Life insurance or no life insurance...you can’t seriously expect me to believe that you were just upset about not being able to help us as much. That was ridiculous. I don’t buy it. And the way you blushed like crazy when he came over to talk to you--the way you try and pretend like you can flirt...please. Y/N, it’s clear as day. I know you, and I know you have a crush on him.”

“Hermione!” hissed Y/N. “You have no clue what you’re talking about!”

“Yes, I think I do,” she pushed. “And you need to be honest with me if you want to be of any help right now.”

Her bossiness lit a fire of rage in Y/N’s chest, but she sucked in a deep breath, shutting her eyes before releasing it. “Believe me when I say I haven’t ever acknowledged any feelings I may or may not have towards him.”

“Ok.” Her face softened. “I know it might take time, but I honestly do think I’m right. Please just...be careful. This is a really odd situation to get caught up in if you actually have feelings for the other person. You’re trying to manipulate him, for Merlin’s sake.”

“And if I have these feelings for him, I’ve done a pretty damn good job of suppressing them for however long they’ve been here.”

Hermione sighed. “That’s true. I’m just saying that spending this much time with him is probably only going to make things worse. Will you please tell me if anything changes between the two of you?”

“Anything changes?” Y/N’s voice was dripping in disbelief. “You’re joking. Even if I was obsessed with him I don’t think there’s ever a chance of hell in anything ‘changing’ between us. He said it himself.”

“You know what I mean, Y/N,” responded Hermione. “Just promise me, ok?”

“Ok,” said Y/N. “I promise.”

That seemed to satiate Hermione as she nodded approvingly at her friend. “I think it goes without saying that Ron and Harry shouldn’t hear about this.”

“There’s nothing to hear about, but yes.” She shuffled her feet before meeting Hermione’s eyes again. “Er, I’m sorry for this being a weird question, but would you mind coming along with me and Harry to Hogsmeade? I don’t really see him like...that...and I don’t want to read into it too much and reject him if he is doing it just platonically, but just in case. Y’know.”

“Sure,” said Hermione, even though her face took on that curious expression yet again. “Anyways, you actually did forget something--you’re not wearing a single piece of Gryffindor colors for our game today. You should probably run back to your dorm before Harry and Ron notice.”

After they said their goodbyes, Y/N found herself turning over the things Hermione had said to her in her head. Did she like Malfoy? No, no fucking way. But a part of her really did think he was funny. And of course it was natural to feel rejected when anyone insinuates that they’d never consider you as a romantic interest without jest.

Once she’d made it up to her room and grabbed a few scarves, Y/N made to put her red cloak into her satchel. Her fingers ghosted over the box that Malfoy had given her and scoffed once she saw the Malfoy crest engraved into the rich wood.

Narcissistic snot.

Her curiosity got the better of her as she reached over to open up the elaborately decorated box. What met her was not just one quill but two--one of which was most certainly not her own.

She took them both out, tossing the old one in a pile with her other trusty familiar white feather quills and picked up the other one. It looked familiar--identical to the quill that she’d complimented Malfoy on in Potions about a week ago. Butterflies began to flutter like crazy in her stomach as she turned it over in her hand, watching the gray and green glitter together and the magic sparkles cast a gentle light over her bed. She generally avoided dipping into her family’s pockets to get school supplies any more than she had to--it’s not like it made her friends feel good about themselves when they were reminded how rich her family was--but this might be what she could consider to be an exception. She hadn’t even liked his quill all that much when she first saw it in Potions--but it was one of those things that was so noticeable that it made sense to compliment him.

She gave it one last look before tucking it back away into the elaborately decorated box. Perhaps she had spoken too soon when she’d told Hermione all hope was lost.

When Monday morning Potions class with the Slytherins rolled around, Y/N wasted no time. Malfoy was alone--even his Slytherin lackeys seemed to know not to bother him. Just what she needed.

“Malfoy,” she greeted, setting her bag down on his table and looking him dead on. He raised to meet her eyes, his eyebrow raised.

“Can I help you?”

“I just wanted you to know that I also really like your immense fortune,” she said. “And your manor.”

“Well, a lot of people do,” he mumbled as he looked away to dig through something in his bag. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought he was blushing.

“I’m just letting you know,” she continued. “In case you were wanting to give them away. It worked for the quill, so I thought, well, why not?”

He exhaled, a deep and annoyed sound escaping his lips as he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “I knew I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You really didn’t have to.”

“I was getting sick of it,” he told her. “I never can stick with one quill for too long, and I thought it’d be a shame to toss it. I thought it’d be better to be charitable--it’s not like your family could get an appointment at Barnaby’s if they tried.”

“Hey!” Y/N said indignantly. “You don’t know that!”

“I’ve heard your parents try to speak French,” he said. “If you’re anything like them, you'll be barred from ever entering the country.”

“Malfoy!”

His lips turned up into a smile, a soft laugh escaping his lips. Y/N suppressed the urge to grin in return. Task 3? Done. “What?”

“I can’t even argue with you,” she said. “It’s tragic.”

She stared at the empty stool next to him, wondering if she should just take the leap and sit with him. Malfoy seemed unbothered by her presence as he opened up his Potions book and set it next to his cauldron. “Do you want a partner?” The words left her lips before she could stop them.

He cast her a curious look before glancing at the empty stool. “It depends. Are you going to be annoying?”

She gasped in faux-offense. “What makes you think I could ever be annoying?”

“On that note, I think you better get back to Potter.” He motioned with his head towards the side of the room where most of her Gryffindor friends were chatting. Harry was staring at her, his fists clenched by his side.

Y/N smirked and sent him a wink.

“On that note,” she said, careful to imitate Malfoy’s drawl and sending him a smug grin, “Maybe I better sit here.”

“Hm.” He awarded her one more uninterested look before rolling up his sleeves and setting out the ingredients for the potion they were brewing--Amortentia.

She tried not to make it too obvious that she was staring at his left arm, but there was nothing on it like Harry had told her. It was just pure, unblemished pale skin that shimmered under the light. Before he could catch her looking, she quickly sat down and started pulling out her own things. After a short pause, she decided to take out the silver quill. She’d left his box back in her room--she wouldn’t be caught dead with something that had the Malfoy crest on it--but she’d wrapped it in a pouch with her own family’s emblem on the front, shimmering in gold and red.

“Why don’t you just buy your own charmed quills?” asked Malfoy after they had chopped all of the gillweed.

“You already know. We’re an abomination to the French. We aren’t allowed entry.”

“That’s not what I mean.” His tone was meant to read as exasperated, but his words still seemed good-natured.

“I...well.” She frowned. She’d never confessed this to anyone, but she supposed that Malfoy wasn’t going to find a way to use it against her. “I don’t like to flaunt my family wealth. I think it makes people, at least in Gryffindor, like me less. I learned that pretty early on.”

He hummed something in response before sliding all the gillweed into the cauldron, turning the clear liquid into a bubbling forest green.

“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?” she asked.

He took his time finishing the note he was jotting down before he answered. “I’m not being nice. It’s just called being civil. You said it yourself, we see each other at balls sometimes.”

“We probably won’t anymore, though,” she mused.

Malfoy’s eyebrows shot up, but his voice remained low and steady. “No. I suppose that we probably won’t. Is your family part of the Order?”

“Hm. Are you a Death Eater?” she asked brazenly. He had no business asking her something like that, and he knew it. Especially not with his family connections.

“What do you think?” he drawled, waving his bared left arm in front of her face.

“Bullshit. That doesn’t mean anything after we learned Glamour spells last year.”

“Guess you’ll just have to trust me, then,” he responded, focusing intently on the bubbling liquid in front of him instead of her face.

“I guess so,” she replied. The weight of her Glamour comment began to sink in--she was right, after all. How had she not thought of it before?

But he was right when he told her she just had to trust him. Could she? Y/N rested her chin in the palm of her propped hand as she watched him work. A piece of disobedient moonbeam blonde hair dangled over his forehead as he diced up the unicorn tail, his eyebrows furrowed in focus.

“Is this why you want to be my partner?” he finally asked after a few moments of silence. “So you can just stare at me while I do all the work?”

“There’s the vain Draco I know,” she said, grinning as she leaned over to punch his shoulder.

He rolled his eyes again, scooting out of arm's reach before flipping back to Amortentia in his book. “You’re insufferable. And it’s Malfoy to you.”

“Fine, fine, Malfoy,” said Y/N. “What do you want me to do, then?”

He shoved his cutting board towards her, the half-diced unicorn tail staring up at her. “Finish dicing this and then stir it in. 9 times clockwise. I did almost all of the work, but it should be finished after that.”

Y/N sent him another glare before doing as he said. The glittering quill kept catching her attention from the corner of her eye, and she couldn’t help but notice that Malfoy was writing with just a plain white quill for the time being. HE really did just give it to me.

After the final ingredients were diced, she began to stir, each rotation around the cauldron turning the potion to a different color. It began as the bubbling green, then a deep sea blue, then a royal purple, a crimson blood red, a glimmering gold--before settling into a pale silver.

“Wow. It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “It’s like...liquid starlight.”

“All thanks to me,” said Malfoy. “You didn’t even have to crush the Mandrake root.”

“You’re such a gentleman, Malfoy.” Her voice dripped in fake sincerity. “So, what do you smell?”

Y/N was expecting him to scowl at her and tell her that it wasn’t any of her business, but he actually leaned over the cauldron and shut his eyes.

“I’ve never been good at explaining what things smell like.”

“Fair.”

Once he leaned back, she took his place, shutting her eyes and breathing in a tendril of the beautiful potion. “Whoa.”

“What’s it for you?”

“I don’t...know,” she admitted. “It’s not something I can describe note by note. It kind of reminds me of something, though.”

“Something with Potter, I presume?” he said, casually twirling his generic white quill around his fingers.

“No,” she answered, surprised at how honest she was being. “It’s…I’m trying to think. Er, it’s very lavish. It reminds me of when I was younger and my parents would drag me to galas and balls and whatnot.”

He stared at her in silence.

“What about you? Does it remind you of anything?”

“Yeah.” Malfoy reached forward to put a lid on the cauldron, effectively shutting out the steam from reaching either of them.

“Ooh, have you figured it out yet?” she teased, crossing her legs and turning to face him head on. “Let me guess. Is it someone like…”

She paused, a wicked smile stretching across her face. “Oh my god, is it Hermione? Or Luna? Or...help me out here!”

“No.” His voice was sour.

“Ah, it’s Parkinson then, isn’t it? Tell her I’m sorry for throwing food at her if you ever have the chance. Make sure to add the part where I’m more sorry that I missed.”

“Y/L/N!”

“It’s okay. I’d be a little let down, too.”

“Can you please just…” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Please just stop. I haven’t figured it out. Okay? Happy now?”

“I’ll leave you alone,” said Y/N. “Under one condition. You give me a hint. I’ve given you everything I know! This isn’t fair.”

“This doesn’t have to be fair,” he hissed.

Y/N kept the easy smile plastered on her face while she waited, her eyebrows raised in anticipation.

“You’re not going to let up until I tell you, are you?”

“You’d be right on that,” she said, sugary sweet.

“Fine. It’s something kind of floral.”

“How descriptive,” she snorted as she slumped back in her stool, thinking hard. Where had she smelled it before? Y/N shut her eyes, leaning her head back and trying to immerse herself into the memory that had surfaced. It smelled like grandeur, like an open ballroom full of guests wearing expensive perfumes. She could feel spinning, spinning like she was with a dance partner. Who was it? She couldn’t quite remember--the last ball she’d been to had been years ago--but after she leaned forward and smelled the Amortentia once more time, she came to a conclusion.

“I had to have danced with him at a gala before,” she announced to Malfoy, who was looking quite unimpressed. “So I know it’s no one from Gryffindor.”

“Interesting,” was all he said before turning to his parchment and jotting something down.

Late that night, while Y/N was settling into bed, a strange idea struck her. Sure that the thought that was nagging her was completely fruitless, she had no trouble with reaching into her desk and pulling out the Malfoy box. She just had to check if she wanted to sleep well.

Here goes.

She closed her eyes, imagining the expensive scent of her Amortentia. Then she opened it, stuck her nose into the fabric, and breathed in.

Well, fuck.

The internal debate going through Y/N the next day at the breakfast table was intense. On one hand, she really, really wanted to just tell Hermione that Malfoy had been in her Amortentia and she was completely fucked, but on the other…

She glanced at the witch next to her as she methodically sliced her toast into perfect, equivalent squares before dunking them in jam. Y/N liking Malfoy was not going to fit into her toast cubes. If she said anything, she would lose her excuse to talk to her about him. And her excuse to try and get close with him.

Perhaps I can figure it out tomorrow.

When tomorrow came, she still hadn’t made progress. Y/N was beginning to think that her so called “revelation” after they brewed Amortentia was truly just complete and utter bullshit. So what that his quill box smelled like it--all rich people kind of smelled the same at some points, and so did their houses. There was a reason why she couldn’t immediately pin the scent to anything--it wasn’t like she even knew what Malfoy smelled like.

But the truth remained that she was still attracted to someone who happened to be a rich Slytherin--so naturally, her mind began to wander. There’s no way it was Zabini--his mother owned a fragrance line, and she would’ve instantly recognized the cologne that she knew Mrs. Zabini made him wear--and there was absolutely no way that it was Crabbe or Goyle, so the only other Slytherin it left was...Nott? But that didn’t make sense either--she’d never spoken to him before in her life, even less than Malfoy. So perhaps it would be better if she didn’t think on it.

The next day of potion brewing came on a stormy Wednesday. Malfoy and Y/N worked silently together to brew a Draught of Dreamless Sleep. She was surprised to see how practiced his movements were--he didn’t even have to reference the book to recite the exact measurements and directions.

“Do you have bad dreams or something?” she asked, mostly as a joke. He didn’t seem to pick up on the light-heartedness and stiffened up.

“No?”

“Gee, you’re talkative today,” Y/N said, trying to ignore how her hand brushed his by accident when she added the scoop of anjelica.

“Excuse me for not entertaining you,” he drawled. “I wasn’t expecting to have such a needy potions partner today.”

“I am not needy!” she gasped, smacking his arm. “I’ve sat in silence for a full hour!”

He rolled his eyes (he was always rolling his eyes) and gave the potion one more final stir before setting the lid on the cauldron. “Think you can do that again? It needs to simmer for that long.”

“Just because you’re so sweet to me,” crooned Y/N before pulling out a heavy book from her satchel. Her Charms exam was tomorrow, and, naturally, she had decided to save all of her revising work until the night before. The textbook stared back at her as she jotted a few notes onto a previously blank sheet of parchment. The quill in her hands was light and glided across the paper like the tears of Merlin, something that she had forgotten quills could do. All of her familiar basic quills were okay, but they were prone to skidding and breaking. This nib hadn’t worn down in the slightest, still at a smooth and defined peak.

Y/N couldn’t believe that, out of all people, the person to give her such a thoughtful gift was Draco Malfoy. She tried to sneak a glance at him then, moving her curtain of hair away from her face. It took all she had in her to not be startled at the fact that he was already looking back, a slightly concerned expression etched into his face.

“Is something wrong?”

He snapped out of it the moment the words left her lips, his face hardening. “No.”

“Forget I ever asked,” she responded, turning away from him for good and focusing on her textbook. No, there was no way he could be what she smelled in her Amortentia. She liked to think that her subconscious wasn’t secretly a masochist.

Friday evening swung around again, much to Y/N’s dismay. She’d had a talk with Hermione later on in the week, confirming that no, she did not smell Malfoy in her Amortentia, and that yes, she was still abiding by the plan that Hermione had so carefully laid out for her. It did bother her a bit that she could be lying to her on both fronts--but at the end of the day, she was going to get the answers that Harry wanted, no matter what.

She just had to get through the scary ass castle first. She’d forgotten how spooky Hogwarts was after her previous sprint to the door, and this time she was positively trembling by the time she turned another dark corner on her way to McGonagall’s office. Yet another cursed item had been found in the girl’s lavatory on the 3rd floor, right by some of the classes that she had taken earlier in the week. The fact that whoever was out there was capable of dark magic and actively wanted to hurt people terrified her, all that Gryffindor bravery be damned.

So when she heard footsteps suddenly right beside her, it was no wonder that she jumped feet in the air.

“Fuck!” she sputtered, turning to see a very familiar blonde in Slytherin robes. He was frozen in place, curiously looking her up and down.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Malfoy,” Y/N said, resisting the urge to melt into a puddle of relief at the sight. This wasn’t right--wasn’t he a suspected Death Eater? “You scared me.”

He scoffed, digging his hands into his pockets. “You’re supposed to be the brave ones, right?”

“Huh?”

Malfoy motioned to her Gryffindor jumper.

“Oh.” Heat rushed to her cheeks as she realized what he meant. “I dunno. I just get jumpy around the castle at night.”

“No shit.” They’d begun to walk now, side by side. Y/N couldn’t remember ever walking with him before--she’d always been late. “Do you think I forgot the way you screamed when you saw me at the tower?”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, reaching over and giving him a healthy shove.

They walked in silence together. Malfoy moved noticeably slower than he normally did so he wouldn’t leave Y/N’s shorter legs in tow. McGonagall seemed pleasantly surprised to see Malfoy hold the door open for her.

“I’m glad to see you two getting along,” she said, giving Y/N a hesitant nod before grabbing the stack of papers on her desk. “I’ll be back momentarily.”

After she exited the room with a swish of her deep maroon robes, Malfoy turned to her. “Are you scared of the dark or something?”

She turned, ready to send a biting retort his way, before she noticed how gray his pallor looked...and how big the circles under his eyes were. “You look like shit, Malfoy. Is everything okay?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t change the subject.”

“Oh. Um…” Y/N pause before deciding that the little tidbit of information she was about to reveal wasn’t that important anyways. “I’m just on edge at night at Hogwarts is all. Especially with all that weird shit going on with all the cursed objects. So I kind of hate walking to and from detention.”

Malfoy let out something that sounded like a strained laugh.

“You didn’t answer my question. Is everything okay?”

“None of your business,” he snipped. “I just had a bad night.”

“Do you have trouble sleeping?” she asked, unable to keep herself from prying.

“Something like that.”

“Have you tried lavender?”

“I’m sorry?” He frowned.

“Lavender. Like the essential oil. It’s nothing magical,” she explained. “I just like to spray it in my bed sometimes before I sleep. Or I’ll use a few drops in a diffuser. I have trouble sleeping too, all the time, actually.” She shut her mouth before she had any chance to ramble further.

“It sounds a bit too floral for my taste.”

“Here.” Y/N dug around in her satchel, searching for the tiny spray bottle she kept with her at all times. “Borrow this and spritz your pillow with it before you sleep, and then tell me it’s too floral. I promise it helps.”

He glared at her. She extended her hand with the white bottle that was covered in purple decor, raising her eyebrows expectantly. “I won’t tell anyone that you have it if that’s what you’re worried about or whatever.”

“Fine,” he snapped, snatching it from her hand and dragging his fingers over her palm for just a second. “Don’t expect me to actually try it, though.”

“Just give it a sniff.”

He huffed, but to her surprise, he actually uncapped the top and held the spray hole up to his nose, inhaling in once.

The effect was immediate. Malfoy’s face completely drained of color, becoming even grayer than he’d been when she first saw him under the light. The briefest expression of surprise fleeted over his face before he wiped it off, replacing it with something unreadable and tossing it back at her. “I’m not using this.”

“Why not?”

“Not quite my taste,” he spat.

Y/N was shocked by the sudden outburst, watching as he continued to glower at his desk. “I don’t understand. It really does help you sleep. I know it seems stupid, but I...really think you should try it. Just once, if anything.”

“Why does it matter so much to you?”

“Because I--” Y/N stopped herself before she let her mouth run without check. “I know what it’s like is all. I feel like shit if I don’t sleep. Plus, I have to spend time with you every Friday. I imagine that you’ll be slightly more tolerable if you sleep more.”

“Hm.” He sent her a particularly venomous glare. “Thanks for your concern. Consider me uninterested, though.”

“You break my heart,” she teased, pulling back her hand and placing the bottle on the corner of her desk. An idea struck her.

“And just what are you smiling about?” Draco said. His lips were turned into a sour frown.

“Nothing, nothing,” she responded, her voice adopting a sing-song quality. All she had to do now was wait.

He exhaled, a deep and exasperated sound. Then he turned back to whatever was in front of him.

McGonagall entered the room a few minutes later, nodding cordially at the comfortable silence the two students were in. What she didn’t know was that Y/N was waiting, just waiting for Malfoy to dig through his satchel and stop paying attention to his quill.

She got her opportunity a few minutes later, when McGonagall called him up to look over his latest Transfiguration homework.

“Mr. Malfoy, I’m happy to see that you’re taking more initiative in getting your assignments done...I have to say that you had me a bit concerned…”

While her professor kept Malfoy occupied, Y/N darted over and grabbed his quill.

Ha.

Malfoy frowned down at his desk when he returned, giving Y/N a suspicious look.

“What is it, Malfoy?” she said, hoping her voice conveyed nothing that might hint that she took something of his.

“Nothing.”

“Hm.”

The rest of detention passed without any more discussion. Y/N was eager to run up to her dorm and set up her plan to be carried out the next morning, but she calmed her bouncing leg and forced herself to keep a straight face when McGonagall dismissed them.

“Got somewhere to be, Y/L/N?” Malfoy’s voice called after her as she sped down the hall towards the Gryffindor tower.

“What’s it to you?” she fired back.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he picked up his pace until he was walking next to her.

“Aren’t the Slytherin dorms the other direction?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Are they?”

She allowed herself to be amused by the way words flowed out of his mouth when he was slightly out of breath. “Why are you walking with me?”

“You said it yourself.” He kept his eyes cast on the cobblestones below them. “You don’t like walking alone at night.”

“Uh...oh.” Against her will, her feet froze and she was glued to the ground. “You’re joking, right?”

If the lighting wasn’t so dim, Y/N would have good reason to believe he was blushing with how intently he was studying his fingernails. “By all means, I can be.”

“No! No, I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth. “Er...I’d like you to. If you want to, that is.”

He shrugged, an elfish expression spreading across his face as he took in how nervous she was. “Well, come to think of it, you didn’t ask me to. I suppose I better get back to the Slytherin dorms anyways. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near the Gryffindor Tower right now.”

“Why?” she squeaked.

“Oh, you know, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that most of the cursed things showed up on your side of the castle, yeah?”

She gulped.

“I gotta get going. Don’t want to stand around here too long. This place gives me the creeps.” With that, he turned and began walking away.

“Malfoy?” She hated how timid her voice sounded. “Consider this me asking you to walk with me.”

He slowly faced her, a sly grin plastered all over his face. “Oh? Did I hear that correctly? Do you want me to?”

“I’m only going to say this once,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and trying her best to look intimidating. “Walk with me. Please.”

“I guess I’ll take it.” Malfoy glided down the hallway to her in just a couple steps, sending her yet another smug look.

“You made up that whole ordeal about Gryffindor Tower being targeted, didn’t you?” asked Y/N as they rounded the corner to reach the staircase leading up to the common room.

“You bought it, didn’t you?”

“Who says I didn’t just want you to walk with me?” pushed Y/N. This was as close to flirting as it would ever get for her--but it looked like, somehow, things were falling into place. The heat in her cheeks must’ve been from the excitement of making progress.

Malfoy’s toe caught on the first stair and, if it weren’t for Y/N’s steady grip on his arm, would’ve made him go sprawling across the stone steps.

“Merlin, Malfoy,” she said, immediately dropping her grip from his shoulder. “What’s gotten into you?”

He responded with an unceremonial snort and a withering glare. The rest of the walk was done in silence, and Y/N noted how careful his footwork became around the Gryffindor steps.

“This is me,” she finally said once they reached the tapestry for the Gryffindor dorms. He seemed surprised, and only then did it strike her that he’d probably never seen the entrance himself before. “Thanks for being such a gentleman.”

“I live to serve,” he drawled.

And just like that, he was gone.

Her plan was simple. She had located an extra monogrammed pouch in her cabinet, a rich mahogany color with her family crest in a vivid gold, and placed both his quill and the lavender bottle. She would corner him after breakfast or follow him out of the Great Hall and show him then.

However, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Malfoy was not coming to Saturday morning breakfast. Many people didn’t, but Y/N had never known him to miss it. His normal spot was vacant, and it certainly wasn’t a house-made decision as all of his Slytherin friends were present and accounted for. Y/N couldn’t say for sure, but she could see Parkinson turning her head to the entrance every time the doors thudded open before glancing back to Malfoy’s empty seat when it turned out to be someone else.

Where was that loser?

“Excuse me,” she said to the trio as she stood up and brushed off her skirt. “I think I’m going to go get some fresh air. I have a bitch of a headache.”

Hermione and Harry expressed their sympathies while Ron gave her a characteristic mumble through his mouthful of bread, and she was off with the pouch secured in her cloak pocket.

It was a clear November morning, clearly Mother Nature’s attempt to slowly move the world from the crisp autumn to a cold winter. The sky was clear and the sun’s rays warmed her skin at a slanted angle, casting weak shadows across the courtyard.

If I were Malfoy, where would I go to sulk?

The obvious answer was either the Slytherin common room or his own dorm, but that was without a doubt out of question for her. She wasn’t even sure if she possessed the knowledge to guess which corridor the entrance was in, much less work out the password herself. Beyond that, just getting into the common room and waiting would be...She shivered. It would be a terrible idea while she was clearly wearing a cloak in Gryffindor red and gold trim.

As she continued her aimless wander around the castle, she heard the slightest sound from the girl’s bathroom on the second floor. It wasn’t ever really in use--no one came in there to actually use the loo unless they wanted Myrtle to materialize and tell them her supernatural troubles while they were in the middle of their personal business--but it was often the source of strange happenings.

Like the cursed objects she thought to herself, her nails digging into her palms. But did she care about that right now? Surely cursed objects seemed somewhat...suspicious. Dark magic was difficult to hide, and to a pureblood eye that grew up around magical objects, cursed things shouldn’t be impossible to spot.

And, plus, it was Malfoy she was looking for. None of the students had died from the curses so far, and if she was able to break through and learn something, or at the very least gain his trust, the reward to the Order would be more than worth it.

She stepped in, expecting to see an entirely empty bathroom with perhaps a ghost rattling around at the sink. Instead, a different sight awaited her.

Draco Malfoy was clutching the edge of the cracked sink basin in front of him, rocking himself back and forth and shaking. From her vantage point, she could see that he was dressed in his normal garb--a black ensemble--but his hair was unruly and messy, sticking up in the back like he’d hurriedly tugged something over his head.

A strangled gasp grounded her and halted her curious observations. Malfoy began to make these awful sobbing sounds, like he could barely manage to breathe.

Y/N was frozen in place as she surveyed her options. If she stayed and tried to talk to him, he might react in anger or hurt her. But if she just left him, like this, all alone...She swallowed once before stepping forward.

“Malfoy? Are you okay?” Obviously he’s not, you bint said a voice deep in her brain. She pushed it aside as he swung around, his wand raised and his eyes blazing. “Whoa! I’m not going to...Put your wand down!”

He stared at her, his eyes wide with horror as he continued to shake, so much so that his wand slipped out of his hand and clattered to the floor. Without thinking, Y/N reached into her pocket and flung her wand away, holding her hands up.

“I’m not going to try anything. I promise.”

As she drew closer, she could see the remnants of tears on his wet cheeks and the way that his silver eyes were rimmed with a bloodshot red.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he hissed, his voice weak and cracking.

“Neither should you. This is the girl’s bathroom.”

final a/n: ok so lmk if you guys wants me to continue. i really did not edit the last half fjkdsal;f also kinda made this an au where malfoy tried to assassinate dumbledore. with more than one cursed object but dw it’ll all make sense ill clear that up 😭

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco x you #draco #draco malfoy x you #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc

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opheliafifi · 2 years

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closed starter @blaiselumiere

Ophelia had been writing this letter over and over since she had decided she wanted to talk to Blaise. She knew he didn’t deserve to hear from her ever again but if she deserved anything it was to hear his peace and decide if she wanted closure herself. She had no idea how she was supposed to have trust in him again after everything, but she was going to at least put in good faith that he would man up and own to his mistakes. He owed her that. And if he did love her like he claimed he was going to do this for her.

Her letter was simple. She wrote that she wanted to speak with him privately at her home and that she would give him an hour from the meeting time to show up and speak to her. It was easier to write than to follow through with and she had been pacing her little apartment for the last hour before he was even supposed to be there cleaning and changing her outfit multiple times. Despite everything she still had a little rush of energy from the anticipation of seeing him and she tried to make it as productive as possible. There was so much she wanted to say and so much she didn’t know if she could say and it was driving her mad. She was starting to regret the entire offer. It was foolish of her to even do it in the first place but she had to be firm in her belief. Anger and hurt were the only emotions she felt these days and it wasn’t fair for her to be controlled by them.

When the doorbell rang her heart skipped a beat before nausea set in. She was scared. She was nervous. But she had to stay strong for herself. So she put her best brave face on, let the numbness take over and went to answer her door. Seeing Blaise brought a dull ache in her chest, but she just did her best to shove it down again. “Come in,” was all she said before turning around to make the space and head into her kitchen. She had a bottle of wine out and a letter placed there in case she needed to give it to him. A goodbye, a way out, if it came to it.

#🦢 shoot your shot 'cause i'm bulletproof || interactions.#blaise.

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practically-an-x-man · 1 year

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1, 2, 3, 5, 11, 13, 23, and 25 for the writing asks :)

thank you so much!!! these were fun :D

Writer's Ask Game

Which WIP of yours has the longest chapters and which one has the shortest?

I don't think it's really separated by work as much as it is by time. The chapters tend to get longer as the fic goes on, particularly in my older or longer words. A Love Once New, in particular, starts at about 2k words per chapter, but the most recent chapter had something like 8 or 9k words. I've mainly been averaging 4-6k chapters recently. I think it's a combination of me getting better at writing and being able to voice the scenes more easily, and me being so flooded with ideas that I can't split them up into shorter chapters as easily.

2. What is your most self indulgent piece and why?

Oh, aren't they all? Everything I write is like... painfully self-indulgent to me, I just try to disguise it under layers of action and drama. I think A Love Once New takes the cake, though. What can I say? Angel's my all-time fave, I've had a lot of fun playing with his story.

3. Talk about the first character you made

I answered this one here!

5. Give spoiler with no context for your WIP

He's not working alone. Beware the coroner.

11. Character/WIP Lore! (blabber about character/ WIP of choice)

See, I'm not quite sure what to say for this one. I tend to drop the lore as you read the story, and I'd rather let the audience hunt for those little details instead of handing them out flat-out. Makes it more fun for me :)

I will say, though, when I create my characters I always try to stick to a few key themes and build them around that. Madison is based on a lionfish, both in her mutation and in some of her behaviors. Kestrel is based on, well, a kestrel, though they're aware of that in-universe since they chose their identity themself. Katherine's themes include cats and the moon, especially with the Egyptian gods that represent those things (Bastet and Khonsu). Ophelia is based on an argonaut, both the octopus and the Greek myth. I could keep going, but I think I've made my point.

13. Which villain are you proud of making?

I'm really happy with Trevor, the villain I created for Smoke and Mirrors. He really acts as a dark mirror to the protagonist (Madison), and they share a lot of similar traits and motivations. I really like the exploration of what made him a villain, and what it would take for Madison to get there herself.

And I've got a lot planned for Desert Song too, so you're in for a wild ride...

23. How do you stay on track story-wise?

Also answered in the previous ask!

25. Tell me about the order in which your characters (in any WIP) will die in a horror movie.

Quinn/Aces: Look... I hate to do this, but she's not gonna be the last one standing. She'll outlast One and Three for sure, and she'd probably survive past Billy simply because he'd throw himself headfirst into danger if it keeps her safe a little longer, but I don't think she's making it to the end of the movie. She'd have some trouble outrunning the killer in a flat-out chase, and that would be her downfall.

Rae McKinney: On the one hand, she's a badass with the ability to summon energy shields to protect herself. On the other hand, she's got a bad habit of diving into fights she's unprepared for. She'd be the type to make good choices and nearly get out alive, but decide she needs to take the killer down for good instead of simply making her escape, and it would be a Pyrrhic victory.

Madison Douglas: Final girl energy All. The. Way. No question. She's making it through to the end, and that's an undisputed fact.

Robin Cassidy: She'd be fine until one of her loved ones got picked off, and then the grief would make her sloppy. Either they're all making it out alive, or none of them are.

Ophelia Octavius: Also has some major final girl energy. She's strong, she's resourceful, she's intelligent. Madison would survive her horror movie. Ophelia wouldn't end up in a horror movie to begin with.

Jasper Wilson: Hm... it depends on the type of horror movie. Their empathic sense would really come into play - on the one hand, they could probably incapacitate or at least avoid a human killer via their emotions, but that's their only major asset in a horror film. If it's a creature horror or something that otherwise won't matter to their empathic sense, they're probably toast.

Katherine Johnson: So many apologies to Katherine, but she's going down. She's wonderful within her own context and can absolutely hold her own when it comes down to it, but she'd be too soft to survive a horror movie.

Prometheus: technically, they're not human and can't truly die. but even if they were human, they've got enough fighting experience to take the killer down, as long as they can make it a direct fight. They're too unfamiliar with the human world to notice a cleverly-placed trap, but they'd survive a slasher flick without question. And besides, they've got their own little nightmare in their corner to back them up.

Kestrel: they'd survive, but not in any particularly dramatic way. They're a changeling and capable of shapeshifting, and aren't particularly fond of conflict to begin with, so they're more likely just to make a discreet escape as soon as they can.

#my friends!!!#answered asks #ask game #my writing #fanfic #fanfic author #my ocs

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goji-pilled · 2 years

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AU where all the characters who became witches are instead magical girls, and all the magical girls are witches. Imagine Sayaka trying to babysit Pistis (Yuma's witch), Candelaro, Ophelia, and Nagisa, chaos gremlin supreme. Imagine Sayaka constantly seeing Candelaro's familiars, who look EXACTLY like herself, Madoka, and Kyoko, cleaning up around the house, and carrying Mami's tiny witch everywhere. Imagine Sayaka constantly walking into what looks to be doorways, but the door is actually shut with illusions just making them look open like Opheilia constantly made happen in her labyrinth in the game. Imagine just trying to be a good guardian to a witch who literally exists from a feeling of being useless trash, and who is directly stated to have familiars who's job it is to beat her up. And then remember that Madoka has to deal with Homulilly.

JFKDHDKSH OH LORD.

At least Sayaka can count on it that Ophelia won't run off to cause chaos (abandonment issues and a strong attachment to her really do be like that) so theres that. One worry less.

She's not quite sure who is worse to deal with though, Ophelia with her shenanigans or Nagisa with her chaotic gremlin energy.

Candeloro at least knows how to behave (even if the familiars creep her out at times)

Also Sayaka personally will beat up Pistis' familiars, like hands off her witch kid smh even if that's their job.

And Homulilly is either just vibing with Madoka, or morbidly intereressted in anything that can be used like a guillotine.

Madoka is a tad bit concerned over that part.

#felix answers #domestic witches #CHAOOOOOOS #absolutely chaos

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cabensonsgirly · 3 years

Text

👼Baby's Got Trouble. Don't Know How To Live. Don't Want To Die. (Cordelia Goode)👼

Cordelia Goode x fem!reader

👼Part 6 of SP getting reader pregnant👼

👼Slice 1👼

Co-authored with @billiedeannovak

Somewhat au but more so later xx

👼Wordcount: 3422👼

👼Posted on AO3: Read Here👼

👼Content: Your mum sucks, slow-burn, fluff, angst, alcohol, more to be added later👼

👼“No, ma’am. It isn’t crazy hippie rubbish. As I said, your daughter has a place here at the academy. She will start classes upon arrival. It is best she bring all the clothing she has and any other personal items she might wan-“👼

“Hello? Is this the Robichaux or whatever place?”

“Robichaux Academy, yes it is. My name is Cordelia Goode, I’m the Headmistress of Robichaux Academy. How may I help?”

“Brilliant. My daughter, Yn, has somehow managed to break our wine glasses while we were- my husband, son, and I were sitting eating at the dining table. She then managed to fix them once the initial shock wore off but this can’t go on. She’s a disgrace to the family. We heard tales from her great grandmother about witches in Salem but we just thought she was going batty in her old age. Regardless, can you fix our daughter?”

“I- Ma’am, I understand that to people like you- er, I mean, people without magical abilities, that it is scary when these abilities show themselves, but it doesn’t mean your daughter needs to be- to be fixed. Yes, she can come to the academy, there should have been a letter in the-“

“Oh. That place. We got the letter and threw it out thinking it was some crazy hippie rubbish.”

“No, ma’am. It isn’t crazy hippie rubbish. As I said, your daughter has a place here at the academy. She will start classes upon arrival. It is best she bring all the clothing she has and any other personal items she might wan-“

“She will take what she can fit into that stupid bag of hers before we kick her out. We don’t want her in the house any longer. She’s a disgrace and is putting us in danger.”

“I think- I think she’s the one in danger, not you. People still- There are people out there that still want us dead. She will be safer surrounded by her sisters. Someone will come by to make sure she makes it here safely.”

“Good. I suggest someone come quick because after I hang up, she’s no longer welcome.”

“I- Okay ma’am. Very well then. Someone will be there shortly. Have a pleasant evening.”

You have always hated the dark ever since you were a little kid, it’s not the darkness itself that scares you but rather the inability to see what could see you. The lights that lined the streets offered little to no visibility, they were as useful as soldiers would be standing in their place, in fact, they were probably what made you most unnerved about sitting outside on the curb at night, they had this uneven yellow glow to them that only managed to give off light in a very small orb around them. The only thing that would make your current situation more unpleasant than it already was, would be if a thick fog rolled in, trapping the light in an even smaller radius, and making the darkness around you all that more ceaseless.

It was a relatively quiet part of New Orleans, and at the moment you couldn’t tell whether this was a blessing or a curse. Sure, there weren’t random people approaching you and asking if you have money or if you need help, but there was also no one around if something were to happen to you. Yes, your scream could be heard but no one would come running to see where it had come from or why it had been made.

Your parents hadn’t really explained much about where you were going, they said “gather your shit in that bag of yours and get out” followed by a “someone from that hippie academy will pick you up” but that was all they had said before the door hit your ass on the way out of the house.

There weren’t any hippie academies that you could think of, you doubted they were even a thing. Wouldn’t a hippie academy be counterintuitive to the whole hippie thing? Why were you even being sent away? It wasn’t your fault that the glasses broke, it was an accident! And you had fixed them so why were you suddenly sitting on your ass on the curb?

The low hum of a car draws your attention from your phone and makes you jump up and back from the curb so you don’t get hit by it. It’s a fancy car so surely it wouldn’t be here for you. Why would a black Mercedes A-Class Sedan pull up in front of you?

Maybe it was one of those gross rich people that wanted to give you a nice place to stay and anything you could desire in exchange for sex. No Bueno. One of the doors swing open and a young blonde woman steps out, brushing down the front of her knee-length black skirt before smiling shyly at you. “Are you Yn?”

You narrow your eyes and tighten your grip on the straps of your backpack “Who’s asking?” Despite current circumstances, the woman doesn’t come across like she would do anything to hurt you, she seems kind and has a certain air of innocence about her.

“Oh! My apologies, I’m Cordelia Goode. I’m the Headmistress of Robichaux Academy. I’m here to take you there. Have- Did your parents explain where you’re going and why?”

You shook your head and looked down briefly, toeing the dirt with your shoe before glancing back at her. “No. They pretty much told me to get my shit and leave, and that some ‘hippie academy’ person would come get me. Are- are you that person? Not- not a hippie person but- not- not that there’s anything wrong with if you are.”

Cordelia laughs softly and moves closer to you, offering her hand to carry your bag “Let me take that for you.” You hand her your bag, quietly apologising for it being heavy but she seems to hold it with ease. “So they told you none of what I discussed with them on the phone? That’s- that’s to be expected I guess. We can discuss this in the car on the way, okay?”

You nod and follow her back to the car, climbing in after her and closing the door. She whispers something to the driver before the car sets off, turning her attention back to you. “Do you know anything about witches and covens?”

“A little? My great grandma use to talk a lot about what happened to family in Salem but mom and dad always said she was just getting batty in her old age. She said that witch hunters would tear people from their homes and slaughter them, sometimes whole villages of people that were believed to be witches or- or even harboring them.

She use to show me magic tricks as a kid, making her purse disappear then reappear in my school bag. I never knew how she did it but- but it fascinated me. I talked to mum and dad about it, how amazing it was but they just told me to stop talking and never talk about it again. Other than that… I have no idea.”

“Your- your parents- mother- did briefly mention that your great grandmother use to talk about it but she, as you said, put it down to her being batty in old age. Unfortunately for your grandmother- great grandmother, sorry- what she talked to you about was- in some cases, still is, true. Witches, all though now have safer places and are more widely accepted, they- we, are still at danger of being killed by witch hunters.

At the academy, Robichaux, we are safe, the Supreme is incredibly strong and capable of protecting us, and there are a number of other older witches who help too. But like most covens, we are stronger together than we are divided. We are here to protect and help new witches grow. With us you will have a new family who will never turn their back on you when you are in a time of need.”

Looking out the window it was just a blur of colours from the lights and neon signs that lit up the streets signalling that New Orleans night life was just waking up. “What do you do when you grow up licking poison off knives and now that you’re finally going to be in a situation where you're fed on milk and honey, all you can think about is running because something that sweet can’t be anything other than poison? What is that quote…

I don’t know how to stay tender-“

“with this blood in my mouth? Ophelia, act 4, scene 5. It is… appropriate considering your situation but… if I’m going off my impression of you, you are going to find it easy to continue being kind, even if you feel like you’re only good at hurting people. I can see that you have a good heart, Yn. Although my mother does tell me I’m not good at judging people.”

You smile shyly, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly “Thank you, Cordelia. I hope I can prove your mother wrong and be the good person that you think I am.” You return your gaze to look out the window, admiring the different colour lights you can see and how busy this part of the city was. “It’ll be nice finally having someone that believes in me. That believes I am good.”

“You will find that there will be others out there who will see goodness in you too. But- but even if there aren’t… Know that I see it.”

The rest of the drive was filled with light-hearted banter, the kind you would hear good friends throw back and forth. You wouldn’t consider you and Cordelia to be friends seeing as you two have only just met but you felt as though it wouldn’t take long until you were.

By the time you made it to the academy it was around midnight, the building was grand and imposing, it had this energy to it that gave off the distinct impression that if you tried damaging it in anyway you would be the one that came away worse off. There were lights that lit the pathway and entryway up which somehow managed to make the building all the more intimidating despite feeling perfectly safe.

You went to grab your backpack but Cordelia bet you to it. “I can carry my bag, you know that right? I don’t mind taking my own shit- stuff in. You’ve already saved me from whatever hell my parents were going to impose on me, the least I can do is take my own things inside.”

She shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her lips as she leads the way up the path “I’m sure you can, but you’re new here and you’ve also had a long day, it’s the least I can do for a new coven member.” You let out a dramatic groan as you follow after her, she opens the door and steps to the side to let you in before coming in after you and closing the door behind you both.

“It’s so quiet. Is it always this quiet? I can’t- Nevermind” You shove your hands in your jacket pockets, waiting for Cordelia to take you to where you can hopefully get some sleep.

“It’s only this quiet when the girls aren’t creating mischief and partying, as well as when my mother hasn’t been drinking, mind you, I haven’t seen her since she left to travel the world... You’ll grow to appreciate this rare moment of silence.” She gestures for you to follow her as she leads you up a grand staircase, leading you down a hall before opening a door to your left.

“It’s a small room but I doubt you’d want the girls harassing you with questions at this hour so we’ll move you into their room tomorrow if you would like? There’s drawers for your clothes, a small desk, and of course a bed. The bathroom is next door and if you want hot water I suggest waking up before 7 or else Madison will use it all up when she takes her hour long shower.”

You nod your head and thank her quietly, taking your backpack from her you step in the room, dumping your bag on the desk before moving to close the curtains. “Is- Is there anything else I can do for you before I let you get some rest?” You turn around to look at her before looking at the floor “Is- Is it okay if I turn some music on? I’ll have it quiet so it doesn’t disturb anyone. I just- I can’t sleep when it’s silent.”

Cordelia smiles softly, she finds it rather adorable that you can’t sleep unless there’s noise of some sort but she doesn’t want to embarrass you or herself by admitting this. “Of course you can. I will make sure- or try to get you a radio so you don’t have to play it through your phone. I’m sure it will be nice to hear music rather than the girls screaming at each other over who stole whose makeup. I- I wouldn’t mind hearing what you like listening to” your eyes shoot up to look at her, a blush settling on both your faces.

“I- uhm… I- Good- Good night, Yn. I’ll come see you in the morning so I can introduce you to the others at breakfast. Uhm… Let- let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help you settle in. Good night.” She rushes out, hoping that you don’t notice how flustered she got but also has a gut feeling that you did notice. She gives you a small wave before leaving quickly, the door closing behind her.

You let out a slow breath, feeling the exhaustion from the day hit you like a bat out of hell. You knew this made no sense seeing as you did nothing physical but apparently being kicked out of home for being a witch had the same effect as running a marathon, it left you broken and tired.

You remove most of your clothing, leaving just your shirt and underwear on before climbing into bed, taking one last glance at your phone to see if you have any messages or calls from anyone but unsurprisingly there weren’t any. You turn the volume up a bit so you can hear your music then put it on your small side-table before turning over and trying to sleep.

No matter where you stayed or how exhausted you were, the first night sleeping somewhere new was always the hardest night sleep you had. Nevertheless, you managed to get to sleep relatively quickly but staying asleep was where it became difficult; the days events were playing in this off-kilter manner, like they were somehow glitching and just playing that awful moment where your powers revealed themselves and you saw the look of fear then disgust in your parent’s eyes on loop. No matter how hard you tried to change what you were dreaming about, your dreams would always end up looping back to this.

“We can never have a fucking normal dinner when you’re involved, can we? There is always something going on with you. Last night it was because you wanted to have a glass of wine and ended up polishing the bottle off yourself. And now!? Now it’s because you’re some freak.”

“Honey, that’s not- you can’t call our daughter that. This time it isn’t her fault this happened. Yes last night was unpleasant but you certainly weren’t helping and now you’re berating the poor girl.”

“Oh? It’s my fault? So what, you’re defending our freak of a daughter?”

“No- No that’s not- I’m not defending her. Tonight was- is just- this is out of her control and ours.”

“Exactly. Out of our control. She’s always been like this. I’m going to go make a call to that academy place. See if they can fix her.”

“I don’t need fixing! I’m not broken!”

“You’re right, you’re not broken. Just defective.”

“Mom? Don’t make her leave. She helps me with my homework when you’re not home. Please. I’ll miss her if you make her-“

“Shut up. This isn’t for little children to discuss. Take your dinner to your room and eat there. This is the last time you’ll be seeing your sister.”

“But-“

“No. Say your goodbyes now then go to your room.”

Your little brother gets out of his seat and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your legs before hugging you tight, mumbling “I’ll miss you. Sorry mom and dad are making you leave. If- if it counts for something I- I don’t think you’re defective.”

You hug him back, giving his hair a ruffle before letting him go, a sad smile on both your faces. “I’ll see you again someday, kiddo. Be good.”

“Unlike you, your brother isn’t a disappointment to this family.”

You wake with a start upon a knocking on your door, you feel panic surge through you thinking it was your mother about to verbally berate you but then you hear a soft voice. “Yn? May I come in? I thought it best to discuss with you what happens in the morning before lessons start.” You feel your cheeks heat up and pull the duvet up to cover you as you sit up, “uhm yeah- yeah you can come in.”

The doorhandle turns and the door swings open, revealing a youthful Cordelia, her long blonde locks tied back in a ponytail; if you hadn’t known who she was, you would have thought an angel had lost its way, she was beautiful. You look away not wanting to get caught staring, suddenly finding the ceiling to be the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen.

“Hey! Is that the new girl!? It’s the new girl! Co-“ Cordelia closes the door, shaking her head and letting out a quiet sigh before turning back to face you. “And here I was trying to make sure you would have a relatively peaceful morning, but it seems that the girls have other things in mind.”

You laugh lightly and shrug, “I’ll have to get use to it sooner or later so it’s alright.” She hums a bit, clasping her hands together at her waist. “So… We usually have breakfast together. Some mornings it’s a pleasant affair but then there are mornings where Madison decides to start drama…”

Cordelia trails off, a light blush colouring her cheeks “I- I probably shouldn’t talk like that but… there isn’t much point trying to sugar coat things. It was a lot worse when mother was staying here, as soon as she had some alcohol in her there is no stopping her. But that’s in the past anyway. She’s off traveling” she gestures vaguely with her hands “somewhere.”

You cover your mouth with your hand to stifle laughter, it seems like you’re not the only one who has a tempestuous relationship with their mother. “You’re not laughing at me, are you? It’s not a good look for a new student to laugh at her Headmistress.”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing, it’s not that you were laughing at her but the situation in itself was pretty funny. “I- I’m not I swear” you manage to get out through little fits of laughter “It’s just funny that’s all.” She rolls her eyes but smiles “I doubt you’ll be laughing when mother has a fit and tosses you across the room. God… I really need her to stop doing that.”

Cordelia walks over to your curtains and opens them, flooding the small room with natural light, the golden and bubble-gum hues of the sunrise bringing life to the otherwise dull walls. “You’ll be fine. I doubt she’s returning home any time soon.”

She turns to look at you, a small smile on her face. “I should let you get dressed so you can get downstairs to have something to eat. I try getting breakfast over and done with before 10am but there are usually a few stragglers that appear later and pick at what’s left in the fridge. I’ll talk to the girls and try to get them to not hound you.”

You thank her and she makes her way over to the door, she rests her hand on the doorhandle, looking down before looking back at you. “I’m sorry that you came here because you had no other choice. I promise you that I won’t give up on you, regardless of what path you take in life.” She gives you a sad smile before leaving, the door closing quietly behind her.

#Cordelia Goode #Cordelia Goode imagine #Cordelia Goode x reader #Cordelia foxx #Cordelia foxx imagine #Cordelia foxx x reader #Sarah Paulson #Sarah paulson imagine #Sarah paulson x reader #ahs #ahs imagine #ahs coven

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