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agathasangel · 3 years

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I’ll Be There To Save You- Part One (Cordelia Goode and Daughter!Reader)

Summary: you’re a young witch trapped in a lab for most of your life. But one day, Cordelia came to save you and bring you home, and give you a family.

Warnings: Mom!Cordelia, Platonic!Cordelia, Trauma, Healing, Very Emotional. Also it kind of switches weirdly between Cordelia’s and Y/N’s perspectives.

When Cordelia learned that there was a lab keeping a young girl, doing cruel experiments on her because she had “special abilities”, she was absolutely horrified. Apparently, as a little girl she was able to move things as well as start fires with her mind, and she was seen as “dangerous” because of this, despite insisting that she didn’t mean to start any fires, and being distressed at the thought of having hurt someone, she was still locked up.

“Zoe, Queenie, can you two teach for me today? We have a new student, and I have to go get her myself.”

“It’s that girl from the lab, isn’t it?”

“Yes it is, thank you girls for telling me about it. I need to get her right now.”

Cordelia started her car and drove for hours upon hours, as day turned to night, to get to where she needed to go.

Meanwhile, you sat in your room, dreading every second that passed, just like you always did. Everything was terrible there, and you didn’t know what horror awaited you that night. The staff often forgot to feed you, and the doctors were cruel in their experiments, barely regarding you as a person. They thought you were evil. You had tried escaping a couple of times, but were always caught and disciplined so harshly that you decided it wasn’t worth the risk. Still, you dreamed of freedom.

Cordelia pulled into the parking lot and walked in.

“I have an appointment to see (Y/n)?”

“I’m sorry, you can’t. Unfortunately, she is quite dangerous, as she-”

As Cordelia’s eyes wandered around the walls of this building, she saw the logo of Delphi Trust.

Witch Hunters. That girl would wind up dead if Cordelia wasn’t able to get her,

“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do this, but it seems I have no choice.”

Cordelia snapped her fingers and the woman was put under a mind control spell, and gave Cordelia the exact location and key she needed to visit (Y/n). She quickly found the room that the girl was kept in, and unlocked it.

You saw a woman stand before you that you didn’t recognize. You cowered, hiding your face from the woman as she approached you.

“Who- who are you? What are you gonna do to me?”

“I’m getting you out of here.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. When the woman grabbed your hand, however, her eyes went dark with rage.

Cordelia saw everything, every cruel thing you had went through, right from your eyes. She ran, dragging you with her, finding the doctor who brought you here, and put you through the most pain.

She found him, you behind her. You were afraid that this was a trick, that she and the Doctor were going to do something truly terrible to you. Instead, she killed him. Without even touching him, just a flick of her finger and he dropped to the floor.

She was magic too.

The woman turned back to you, and you were so frightened. You hated that doctor, but what did she want with you? Would she kill you too? The older woman shut the door and picked you up, carrying you out. She was able to use her powers of Concilium to make anyone who tried to question her walk away. You were so confused. You had no idea what was going on, and started to cry as you went out the door.

“What- what’s happening? What are you gonna do? Please- please don’t hurt me...”

“No no no baby… I’m not gonna hurt you… shhh… I’m so sorry I scared you like that. I just- the way people hurt witches, because they’re afraid of our power. Your case is the worst I’ve ever seen, when I- when I touch people, I can see the truth. I can see through their eyes. I saw all your pain, sweet girl, and it filled me with the strongest anger I’ve ever felt. But- you’re safe now. You need to be with people like you and me, that’s where we’re going. You won’t be an experiment there, you’ll learn and make friends- oh you’re shaking, come here…”

The woman pulled you into a big hug.

“My name is Cordelia, by the way. Cordelia Goode.”

“Cordelia.” You repeated quietly.

“Alright, honey. Get in the front seat, I gotta start driving if we wanna get away from this place.” You nod, and Cordelia started the car. You couldn’t remember the last time you were out of the lab, let alone in a car, you don’t even think you’ve ever sat in the front before. The kind woman started the car and drove away.

“It’s late and I’m tired. And you must be hungry. Let’s get a hotel room and some food and I’ll take you to your new home in the morning.” You nodded. Cordelia went through a drive through and bought you a meal that you practically inhaled, not having eaten in days. Then she found a motel to stay in for the night. You came in. Cordelia gave you a pair of her pajamas to wear, as you were still wearing a hospital gown when you came in (she told the lady at the front desk that you were a sick patient that she was taking out for a night). they were so soft and comfortable, it had been so long since you’ve even gotten to wear real clothes.

“Bed?” You pointed at one of the beds.

“Yes, sweet girl, that’s a bed. Do you want that one?” You nodded and jumped on, and tried to get comfortable. It was way more comfortable than your bed at the lab, which was basically a table. But you still had trouble getting comfortable. Cordelia turned out the lights and you gasped, startled at the total darkness.

Later, you still couldn’t sleep.

“Hey, (yn), do you want to come sleep in bed with me? You seem scared.” So you did, and Cordelia held you.

“Do you want to see a trick?” You nodded. Without getting up, she turned the lights on and used telekinesis to grab the hotel’s tv remote, turning it to the music channel.

“Maybe some music will help you sleep?” She said, turning off the lights again.

“I can do that too!” you say, excited.

“I know. You were moving things in the car, I saw you. You can show me everything tomorrow. Sleep.” And you and Delia held each other tightly and you fell asleep.

The next morning, Cordelia woke up and got dressed, and took you to quickly get breakfast before getting in the car and taking off.

“I’m so glad you’re coming home, (Y/n). You’ll love it. I can’t wait to see you grow into an amazing young witch, just like you’re meant to be.”

It was a long car ride, and you and Cordelia got to know each other. She told you about the academy, what you would do every day, and learn. She told you about the Coven.

“Most witches master a few skills. It seems that you are already capable of telekinesis and pyrokinesis, which is quite impressive considering that you have never been taught.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I have no doubt that you are going to become a very talented young witch once you’re settled. And in every generation, there is one witch destined to become the supreme. This witch masters many skills, some say all of them. And she is the leader of the Coven.”

“Is- is that you?”

“Yes, darling. It was quite the surprise to everyone actually. My mother was a supreme as well, which hardly ever happens. She knew though, and she hated me for it. So I hid, and no one else ever had the idea that I was actually powerful until we were desperate.”

“Wow.”

“And now, the academy is flourishing. And it’s full of girls just like you, waiting to embrace you.”

“I can’t believe it... I’m gonna have a real home. Thank you, Cordelia! You’re... You’re amazing.”

By the time you got back to New Orleans, it was dark and you were asleep. Cordelia shook you to wake you up, and you screamed.

“Honey, it’s me... you don’t need to be scared. I know it’ll take you a while to learn to trust, but I’m totally safe. Come in with me. I’ll give you the tour tomorrow.”

You were ashamed to admit this to Cordelia, and never told her, but you were secretly terrified to go into the house that night. What if she was lying? What if it was just a cruel trick? What if she wanted to hurt you? But Cordelia led you into the house, probably knowing what you were thinking.

“It’s okay, sweet girl. Come in.”

It was the most beautiful house you had ever seen. Granted, you didn’t have much to compare it to. You lived in a lab for years, and your childhood home from before that wasn’t much better. But this place? There was magic in the air, paintings, a grand piano, and you just felt good.

“You look happy. Let’s have some tea, and then go to bed.”

Cordelia made some tea, and you searched around the kitchen for food. You ate and drank your tea, and Cordelia showed you to a guest room.

“You can sleep here tonight. Most of the girls are either asleep or have gone out, but I’ll move you into a new room tomorrow. My room is right there if you need me.”

You couldn’t sleep. Being alone, in this new place was scary. When you finally did manage to go to sleep, you had a nightmare. You were back in the lab, and being punished for running away again. You woke up in tears with Cordelia standing over you.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“He- he was- I ran away- he hurt me- I-”

“You had a nightmare. I’m right here, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. Why don’t you come sleep in my room tonight. I think maybe you’re afraid to be alone, is that it?”

You nodded.

“I’m sorry, Cordelia.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, (y/n). I don’t mind at all.”

So Cordelia showed you her room, and you got in the bed. She held you close, and you finally began to drift off.

“I love you, (y/n).”

That woke you right up. You couldn’t remember the last time anyone had said that to you before.

“You- you love me?”

“Yes. You’re such a sweet girl. And you’re family to me. Now get some rest.”

#sarah pauslon imagine #cordelia goode #Sarah Paulson #sarah paulson #ahs #Cordelia Goode imagine #ahs coven #platonic cordelia #sarah paulson fics #my fics

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calamitousrpg · 3 years

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THE WINDS ARE CHANGING,

There’s never a quiet day in the state of Calamity.

And if there is.

It’s the quiet before the storm.

THERE’S WAR ON THE HORIZON.

The mortals have suffered catastrophic loss already, Bram Mackie; a formerly prestigious hunter has fallen in with the wolves in order to strengthen himself and increase his chance of protecting his family. His friend Michael “Mike” Fothergill is offering his house for refuge whilst the newly turned wolf adjusts to his new self. This information is only known to those closest to him, and those who have been told via word of mouth from said people.Sabrina Mackie, Lucky Jones Adams and the rest of the Mackie clan seem supportive of his choice, though Cardelle Mackie would express the opposite. Begs the question, is the sacrifice worth it in the long run?

The former Commander Damien Alanis is another tragic loss for the Hideout ranks; attacked by rogue vampires, and only discovered in his last moments by his lover Malcolm “Mal” Davenport who acted against Damien’s will be transformed into one of the very creatures he used to hunt.

The news broke out in waves, and chances of alliances across the westside remain to look slim. Malcolm and Damien have both been contained in the basement of Kazimir Mikhailov’s manor for their own protection, and the protection of others. It had been adjustment after adjustment. Jessie Davenport, Axel Reyes and Kazimir have been between diplomatic meetings in order to damage control and repair the human and vampire relations.

Malcolm will be punished severely for the murder of one of his own via Jessie, Demitri & Jakoris “Jack” Davenport’s will.

Axel Reyes, former Second in Command in the Hideout, has stepped up to Commander role and is heading the human relations, tightening security and doing everything he can in order to protect his people where it appears his predecessor failed. There has been a private meeting between the Commander and the Overlord after the rather large indiscretion; to prevent a Westside war that would be more blood than anything else.

The former Second also took it upon himself to hunt down the former Commander, as the two of them had a long lived agreement that they’d not let one another turn into another species. With this in mind, Axel managed to convince Damien to meet him in neutral territory. He brought Lucky with him, wanting to make sure that the deed would be done, whether Axel finished the job or her. Unfortunately for the two of them, Kazimir found them and stopped it before either of them could do damage to one another.

They have come to a shaky agreement that Axel will donate blood to Damien for training purposes, in exchange for the vampires providing supplies that would be too difficult to acquire safely on their own, or risky. However, a miscommunication between the two leaders may mean that it doesn’t hold for all that long, because the Commander wants a guarantee that the humans in his ranks would not be touched, which the Overlord seems to agree to at first, despite the orders given. For an entire hierarchy of vampires to go against their nature, it seems like a dream that would only go on so long...

Outside of the Darklands ranks, Claude Jones has become a vampire once more, Scarlett Jane Grey her maker in a reversal of roles. Due to her lack of memory, she cannot remember much of her first maker Fox Crathorne. This transformation has left little reflection of Claudette and she is using her practice to lure unsuspecting humans and fae in for counselling and entertain her newly unhinged mannerisms. SJ has been at the reigns of handling the reprimands for Lydia Cragore and her misdeeds that pitted her as disloyal to the vampires. This led her to also become aware of Daniel Wright’s involvement in regards to trying to help Lydia with an escape, or at least attempting to encourage her to try and leave. Meanwhile, not long after this - and with incredibly poor timing as a diplomatic member - Scarlett has left Calamity on a temporary hiatus from the state. Few know of this (Claude and Jessie), and her absence is noticed but unquestioned when those might pester Jessie Davenport for answers about her Bite Club’s second lady.

Demitri Davenport remains to be unlike himself after his own punishment a couple months ago after he acted off orders and tortured Malcolm. He is attempting to be better in his role and stay out of the firing line of Jessie Davenport because of it. Unknown to him, Jessie is considering him among the names she might suggest to Kazimir about filling their Consul position - believing that with the diplomatic relations as they are, the more voices offering a partial democracy would benefit them all. The vizier also managed to recruit Rosalie Winters into accumulating blood for Kazimir. But will she follow through? There are whispers of Rosalie and Fox Crathorne co-hosting a dinner party.

Giselle Stoneheart has also been in contact with the Diplomat in order to discuss terms of a potential alliance, as has Josiah Maxwell as representing the Mer Kingdom, so the vampire has been attempting to fortify relations across the entire state in order to secure the continued survival of her race. Giselle, before this has been keeping a relatively low profile with the absence of an acting High Court among the fae, and has been acting on her own ideals for the benefit of her people.

And in a hit to the vampires themselves, Teddy Byrne has taken a silveriron bullet to the shoulder by a rogue mortal and has been spending some time recovering. His old flame, and former pet (perhaps?) Matias “Matty” Desoto has been helping aid in his healing process, and both men trea thin water, considering Matty’s position at the Overlord’s side as a private feeder and companion. A secondary concern, one thinks to the diplomatic mess that Kaz has been busy with - slipped beneath his nose for a smidge longer than it usually would, maybe? Matty has also been pursuing Kaz to turn him into a vampire, but has been grossly denied until he has levelled his own personal deep seated issues, in order to make the transition easier. His brother Ace Remington, continues to antagonise him - and he persists to try and help the psychopath.

Under Axel’s new leadership, Cardelle Mackie approached him about the potential to be Second, pending a trial period that would be to prove himself as a leader. Daniel Wright has been tasked with hunting additional medical supplies for Sabrina Mackie, Aiden Kinsey, Ellie May and Diego Garcia to potentially use to develop and synthesis new medicine. Sabrina has been also developing her own skills in research development, including such things as vampire repellant, haemotology in order to further the knowlegde they have on how it works (species), hybridising plants and a multitude of salves that would be for the betterment of her people; friends and family. Her other half, Lorelai Mackie still remains to be missing, and her family are refusing to give up any hope.

Unbeknowst to them, Lorelai Mackie is under the name Mackenzie and has been abducted to be a feeder between the two rivalling clubs on the Westside, BC and Voci. There has been the briefest of revelations in her search when Bram Mackie nearly slaughtered Jakoris “Jack” Davenport in the SRS where there was an information exchange that somehow, salvaged the vampire’s life but offered an in for the Mackie about the woman he was searching for. Jack now suspects a connection based on the two somwhat tense interactions they have shared, whilst Bram has a likely lead about Lorelai’s whereabouts.

Along with Daniel’s orders to bring supplies into the Hideout, he’s also secretly helping the far, Cordelia Darkwood with a baby; picking up small trinkets and baby things that he delivers to her in private. He plans to inform the Hideout of this little secret in due time; when tensions have lessened. Daniel broke Gabriel Fothergill’s nose, brushed his scent onto him and may have put himself in danger by crossing paths with Michael “Mike” Fothergill, who is experiencing the backend of Liliana Solar’s punishment of being trapped in a silveriron cage that left him even madder than usual. Gabe has made it his life’s mission to press Mike’s buttons and the mad wolf sports the burns for all to see his injuries. And despite common knowledge of being enemies, he is tangled in leige with the Vociferous Owner, Oberyn Cortez and there’s something more than just unlikely flings between them. Though, it isn’t public.

The very same vampire has been manipulating Aiden Kinsey and fabricating the mortal’s memories with compulsion. With the help of Avery Arden, a troublesome fae, they have gradually been uncovering the vampire’s handiwork to the discovery of Oberyn using Aiden as a blood source for his own personal gain. He has acquired a magical necklace that allows Avery and he to communicate telepathically, and has been self-questioning a route to elongate his lifespan to spend longer with the fae; perhaps taking the same route as Bram Mackie?

On the less volatile side of the wolves, the oldest pack have been running amok on the Southside, troubled in their own ways - the usual pack warfare. Alpha of the Syndico’s Enzo Sinclair has been dealing with difficult family and lovers drama, Jaxon Reed has admitted the truth of Sinclair’s heritage and revealed that he is the Alpha’s father which has proven to be difficult for Enzo. With this, Jax has also confessed to having intimate relations with a member of a rival pack and the exchange of secrets has only made the Alpha make his Beta keep it hush. The only other person who knows of this familial truth is Izyk Vissar, the Alpha’s husband and formerly Exiled wolf. They are all trying to keep the inter-family drama outside of pack business, and Jaxon has found himself engaging with those he may want to avoid to cope with having to keep his confessions secret.

Adding to Enzo Sinclair’s family carnage, his mother is heading back into town to scorn the man’s choice in husband; express her absolute disapproval. Izyk’s dealing with that, alongside his new position within the Syndico pack, and gaining acceptance as a valued member.

Aslyn Bishop remains to be wavering with her loyalties to the wolves, and ongoing relations with Logan Crest Cree, of the vampires. Jaxon Reed has been attempting to keep her out of this trouble.

To add to the wolves despair, Max Roper remains to be cursed to wolf form, and Phoebe Gallagher has been doing her best to cope and help with this, and has been searching for magical remedies to reverse the curse. Though, she’s not the only one trying to help the wolf. Haylee Dubois seems to think she might have a cure for the spell that is plaguing Max, while Esme is also doing her best to help. With all of this help, Max may be appear human once again.

In the ocean, the Mer kingdom remains to be recovering from their stroke of constant bad luck, death after death amongst the royal family implies they would be overdue something good. Andrew and Saylor Zander as reigning monarchs oversee their people and continue to attempt to keep them safe given past events. King Andrew and Katya Tilki have both recently returned from their travels to neighbouring kingdoms in order to recruit allies to aid in the silent war that threatens the Forgotten. Andrew is angry since his father ran his twin out of town and just as motivated by that, as he is the near assassination on him at his own wedding. Queen Saylor, privately, acted on her own in retaliation to that by targeting the demons at the latest Party of the Century, and dropped numerous with her potent concoction The Exitus. Nobody knows who was responsible for the toxic drink, but Azarius and Jahi of the Dominion have opened up their own investigations, and began dropping their own suspects across the state of Calamity in a hunt for the culprit, each pointing fingers in other directions. Azarius suspects his assassination attempt with Azagi Rabaz at the royal wedding might have something to do with the targeting.

A silent war of the East remains under the radar, for now.

In the diplomacy side of the underwater kingdom, Advisor, Josiah Maxwell has been reaching out for allies, whilst balancing his own personal interests in the Queen and the contract they drew up months ago that vowed the royal circle, himself and Kondor Tarren to secrecy in regards to inter-personal relationships that may jeopradise the integrity of vows, and hierarchial traditions. Greyson Zander has expressed his upset in conversation with his sister, but they all signed themselves to silence. Love is pain, no? Kondor Tarren caught between Greyson and Andrew whilst Saylor has her head turned by her Advisor.

Saylor continues to plan for a war, has recently secured an alliance with the Syndico Pack and with her Advisor’s help, is working on allying with more. Dayanara “Daya” Lighcrest, in the background is hellbent on her pursuit for the throne, and has taken a private leave under a false guise where she was instead attempting to recruit her own people from neighbouring kingdoms to her cause, and has been planting seeds in her compatriots that antagonise the Zander’s, the potential that Azarius and Azagi may be part of her recruitment after the demon’s lazy attack on them may pose a different degree of threat. She is greatening her force, making no moves but is a reckoning force in the rear view of the Zander’s gaze.

Among the demons, post-attack on them, and an absence of any particular unit of force, few care to act on it, others, want to terrorize the state as a result. Azagi Rabiaz is caught in a triangle of carnage, Jack Davenport, Lan Darquen and Azarius all have varying interests in the demon, but never as first choice. A complicated turmoil and mixture of monsters that serve as entertainment, toxicity and terror in one package. Lan remains unaware that Azagi and Jack have been more than just passing acquaintances, and both Jack and Azagi have learned during their jibes that they share a common partner in crime; they aren’t looking forward to letting that slip to the Invidias; the demon of envy. Nor is the little secrets of Azagi taking impromptu naps in the Davenport’s bed particularly eager knowledge they want broadcasted.

Jakoris “Jack” Davenport in amongst the diplomatic trouble of the Darklands, is growing to put it on the back burner; disagrees with some decisions made and it might jeopradise his standing. Evanora Bile, his best friend and witch, admits to her magic waning (due to age) and that her lifespan is being reduced to that of a mortals - much to the vampire’s distaste and is currently in the pursuit (and somehow, pushing down rage) of some magical cure that might stop the mortal process of aging as he gradually wars with denial and truth. But his likely bloody chase for answers, might put himself in predicaments that derail all diplomacies on the Westside.

Ezekiel “Zeki” Amari has founded and opened his own bistro by the name of Polaris, and its a welcome reprieve for a lot of patrons of Calamity, Izara “Kit” Levine among one of its first customers on opening night and unaware that its founder had been one of her oldest companions from when they were both affiliated with the Hideout. This goes before Kit has crossed paths with her long time ex fiance, Axel Reyes and they balance a love, hate relationship amongst the diplomatic stress the Commander is dealing with.

The state’s local good source of all things tasty, Zane Saxena has been manufacturing his own supplies of drugs and poisons in order of the growing demand. War? Brings about something with a little more potency, Pixie still a big first choice for most of the users, Ace Remington and Harley Xhanthi among his best customers, if not best friends - if it would be called such a thing. He is taking orders directly through Havelowe’s in the black market. The same Harley that has transformed species more than once, first a fallen, later a mortal via the powerful concoction at the Winter Ball, before Luella Edwards turned him into her protege and has been training him through fledgling hood. Her maker, Elias Reyes is still as insane as ever.

Northside, the witches are as divided as ever, Esmeray Black alongside Esme Darcy are both heading the sorcerers and Black, newly given the position is still learning of the secrets that are bestowed upon the Arch Conduits. There is plans to potentially steal a child to fulfill missing gaps in her soul and assist Rhysand Darkwood in murdering Andrew’s father. Freyja Carter, without knowledge of witchcraft or the magic in her blood, is on the cusp of connecting with Luca Whitmore to help her realise what she is, but reluctantly. Aurora Lightwood, a ticking time bomb if there ever was one, the Tamperer with more power than any moertal body could handle, is trying to get a grasp of what her past has left her with.

The High Sage keeps the Naturals in order, except her own Shaman, Haylee Dubois who appears to have wavering loyalties and rushes of impulsive behaviours, perhaps from being on such a tight leash til now? Atemu Elmasry, a poor choice in companion, dealing with his own past haunting him in the form of lost love - pitted against a complicated back and forth with the Shaman on the opposite side of the civil war of the witches, and on the brink of losing one of his oldest allies in Evanora Bile. He finds comfort in Valdana Romanov and cannot work out why he keeps finding himself in life and death, back and forths with Haylee; stops her from plummeting into dark magic and yet tolerates it. Daphne Groves is one of Haylee’s closest, and is defending all her choices, but quietly hopes she will remain on the side of light, and repel darkness. Daph is also getting a little too close to Yara Clementine, the vampire that stands as the only link left back to the witch’s mother and begins to question the High Sage’s values; instead stands to believe all species should be helped; anti-war. Still a believer, even after Azagi Rabaz presented the eyes of a loyalist in a terrifying act to coax information out of the witch?

A grand opening Southside, Coveted offers something new, founded by Adonis Romero he has found that it benefits him beyond the obvious. In some complicated thing with Teddy Byrne that seems mutually beneficial, Adonis is attempting to get the vampire addicted to his fae blood in order to manipulate the vampire to do what he wants. The trickery of the fae knows no bounds, it seems. The fae of Myre Grove seem relatively tame, Jasper Dalton’s step-brother Samuel Dalton has strode into town again to cause all kinds of trouble. Already found his long time companions in the Davenports, and Jessie has warned him off leaving messes that could caue diplomatic problems.

Jasper has however antagonised Quentin Miles’ boyfriend when in The Bloom anda fight broke out, Kane Harrison bit Jasper and the situation grew extreme - Malakiah’s arrival worsened the situation, and the flower shop became a warzone that ended only when Quentin agreed to assist in Jasper’s injuries. What was said about how love hurts? Fortunately, an isolated indiscretion between the fae, fallen and the wolf was nothing more that lovers’ spats.

Speaking of Jasper... He also seems to have caught the eye of his Manager and supposed friend, Amos De Leon. The man, usually seen surrounded by luck, seems to have a couple of people wrapped around his finger. Giselle, darling, are you having fun? It’s unknown if some of his games are for shits and giggles, or if he intends to blackmail those around him. All that luck is bound to run out at some point...

Under the noses of the rest of the fae, Avery Arden plans to help conduit the human and vampire alliance in a negative direction, possibly with the assistance of Dalton and this would be detrimental to stopping a war of the West.

Dojermaur “Dodger” Dros has been getting increasingly closer to Lennell Moore, but a Letharger’s interest in a mortal seems suspicious, no? Nira has been trying to assist in wakening the Unawakened and helping them blossom into their true potential, and Jack Riley seems to be a perfect candidate - on the road to recovery from his substance abuse, and trying to help his new Commander, and Hideout with supply runs and being support.

Alexander remains to be under the thrall of the demons in the Dominion, continues to work as a bartender at Hypnos and is irrefutably flirting with his best friend. He’s gained custody of his child within the confines of the tunnels. The same tunnels that Atemu Elmasry and Teddy Byrne almost fought in when they reuinted for the first time in a decade and spurred the hundred year old feud that runs deep between them - Fallon Knight the only reason that the two only part ways with new scars, and their lives.

/ END

This is the briefest of reference materials we could compile together based on what we know, and what the muns of Calamitous have sent us. If there is anything incorrect, or misinterpreted - or you lovelies want something added/included, let us know!

We didn’t receive updates for everyone, but we’re happy to add something in, we hope this runover of the latest events helps you guys who don’t have the time to follow everything on the dash!

#calamity.admin #oocfaq

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forwardwithoutseeing · 3 years

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As I continue to read the things that came out about Joss I think about this fic a lot and how so much of it I think, was me reckoning with the parts of Buffy that I loved (that Joss wrote/created) and the part of it that I hated (that Joss also wrote/created) and I feel like reflected the worst of him, and the terrible person that he actually was under the guise of who he claimed to be.

I about how that’s why so much of it still keeps to canon, while so much of it also deviates from a very personal character focused point of view. There are bi characters in my story! Rona gets to be a decent potential slayer and not just angry all the time. There’s a lot more, and those are just minor examples. As it relates to larger examples, I think a lot about Xander too, and how Joss saw him as a sort of mirror to himself, and the story I wrote for him where he goes to LA instead of Cordelia. A story that mostly goes unseen because so much of this story is a love letter to Cordelia (even if she’s not the main character) and helping her deal with her trauma after the Jasmine story line (which I still included) because that healing was something she deserved to go through. Because women deserve to heal from their trauma. Especially in media. And especially because in real life not everyone gets to. I want to give women happy endings.

There’s a reason that the last two really important scenes in the story - the one I wrote for Chosen, and the one I wrote for the second Epilogue have a great deal to do with her. She gets the last line in Chosen of “Yeah, Buffy. What are we going to do now?” instead of Dawn. That was deliberate. And then in the very last scene she shares a moment with Xander who is not the Xander who Joss created. Not really. This Xander is a half demon. He’s best friends with Darla (who ultimately wins the prize to become human after finding her own redemption) and Angel. He spent a lot of time unlearning that he couldn’t always count on Buffy and that he had to be his own person, away from his overt obsessions with his very specifically female friends. He even still marries Anya after she was the one who ran away because she had cold feet and not him. Cordelia meanwhile is still mostly herself. She’s a well studied Watcher who has spent a long time honing her craft to the point where her knowledge sometimes outshines Giles - but she’s still Cordelia. Still sarcastic, and lovely, and amazing, and willing to fight for her friends (in this case Buffy and Willow) even when it’s hard. Xander is the one who had to change. But I don’t know if Joss ever will, nor do I have faith in him to do so. And I don’t think I will ever forgive him either (It’s not my forgiveness to even give).

I’ll leave you with a scene I wrote for Season 7 between Cordelia and Riley (the pair of who ended up dating, and who became the parents of Jasmine in this universe) after Cordelia has come back because I love Cordelia in this moment so so much:

He laughed at that, and it was rich and beautiful and it warmed Cordelia’s heart to know that he could laugh. That both of them were whole enough again that they could laugh. That they could find joy in the small things even as the apocalypse raged on behind them, “We kind of fell apart without you.”

“Of course you did.” But then more seriously she said, “I’m glad you’re okay. When I left I had to think of me. There wasn’t any other person that I could think of, that’s how bad the pain was. But when everything made sense again all I could think about was you. I wasn’t the only one who lost something that day. We both suffered. It wasn’t Cordelia who decided to kill our daughter. I don’t know what I would have done if I was in your position.”

She had talked about Jasmine to people - because how could she not - so it didn’t hurt as much to talk about it now, but this was the first time she and Riley had really discussed it. Properly. He had tried after everything, but Cordelia had been in too much pain to discuss it. Now though, now it was okay, “Cord -”

She smiled at him, “I’m glad. That you’ve found happiness with someone else. I mean it sucks that it’s not me. But you deserved to move on. We needed to figure ourselves out, and I guess that meant that we figured ourselves out alone. And I hate to say this because I’m amazing already, but I think we’ve become stronger for it. Strong enough that this big evil guy? We’re going to kick it’s ass and show those lame monster’s that they messed with the wrong town. Because big evils don’t get to leave Sunnydale without a proper ass-kicking.”

#buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #joss whedon #cordelia chase #cordelia #xander harris #xander #not sure what all else to tag #that will do for now I think

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lynelovespopculture · 3 years

Text

THE CHILLING ADVENTURES OF ZELDA CHAPTER 19-SALEM FAUSTUS MUST RESCUE HIS DAUGHTER FROM WHERE NO WITCH SHOULD GO.

Zelda didn’t believe what she just heard. She walked across the room so she could read the text herself. She read it twice and still shook her head. “No, I don’t believe it. Our Cordelia just can’t be on her way to Salem. She just can’t be!”

Jake, who wasn’t exactly in the loop, gasped. “You can’t mean that Cordelia is on her way to Salem, that Salem, THE Salem?!”

“Apparently so,” Ambrose answered him.

Faustus, meanwhile, checked his watch and walked quickly to the front hall where everyone followed him.

“Where are you going, Uncle Faustus,” Ambrose called out.

“It’s 8:30 now and I know that the bus should have left at 5:30. Despite that 3-hour head start, I going to see if I can catch it before they reach Salem.”

“I’m going with you.” Zelda reached for her coat but Faustus stopped her.

“No, dearest.” Faustus shook his head. “I understand completely why you want to come along, but if worse comes to worst and I have to go all the way to Salem, I won’t be able to explain your presence. It’s my class on that trip. The only reason I’m not with them right now is that I told them I was sick.” Zelda looked upset and Faustus sought to comfort her with his next statement. “Our girl is very clever. She might get away and come home on her own so someone needs to be here.”

Zelda was still upset but managed to put on a brave face. “Faustus, your trip will go by faster if you don’t have to stop much. I could pack you some sandwiches if you want.”

“Excellent idea, my love.”

10 minutes later, the car was packed and Faustus was ready to go. Jake and Ambrose hung back to allow Zelda and Faustus a private goodbye.

“Do you have everything?” Zelda asked.

“I think so.”

“Call me as soon as you find Cordelia. I don’t care where you are.” Faustus nodded and Zelda sighed and threw her arms around her husband. “And for Hecate’s sake, Faustus,” Zelda whispered into his neck. “Please, please be careful. I simply wouldn’t know what I would do if anything ever happened to you or Cordelia.”

“Shhh, hush my love, the only thing that going to happen is mine and Cordelia’s safe return. Any other outcome is unacceptable.” He then kissed her goodbye. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Zelda returned “Bring home our girl.”

Faustus nodded, kissed her again before he got into the car, and drove off. Even before Faustus’s car drove out of sight, Zelda could feel Ambrose’s arm around her shoulders.

“Don’t worry, Aunt Z, if anyone up to this task, it’s uncle Faustus.”

“Absolutely,” Jake agreed. “They’ll be back before you know it.”

The 7-hour bus trip flew by. From the very back, Cordelia watched the other students filed off the bus. Cordelia took a deep breath and got up and tried to get off the bus. However, Mrs. Robinson blocked her.

“Not yet, Cordelia. They’re not ready for you.”

“Ready for me?”

Nina didn’t respond but when Cordelia was allowed to leave the bus, Nina was right by her side. Cordelia noticed that the rest of the class had formed a half-circle. Then, a tall, scary man dressed in a black robe walked out of the shadows and stopped right in front of Cordelia. “Is this the child, then?”

Nina nodded. “It is, your honor.”

Your honor? Cordelia looked from 1 adult to the other.

The man in black pointed at Cordelia. “Has she been charged yet?”

“No, your honor. We thought it best to get her down here and then charge her.”

Charge me? The horror finally dawned on Cordelia. This was no field trip, this was a witch trial. HER witch trial!

Meanwhile, the man in black continued. “What is the child’s name?”

“Cordelia Spellman.” Nina answered.

The man in black arched his eyebrow. “Really? SPELLman? And the name Cordelia hasn’t been in fashion for at least an century. It’s like she’s not even trying to hide it.” For the 1st time, the man in black spoke to Cordelia directly. “So, what do you say, girl? Do you deny it? Do you deny that you’re a witch?”

Cordelia stood tall. “Of course, I deny it. Everyone knows that witches don’t really exist.”

“Is that right, girlie? Let see if you say that after you see this!” He grabbed Cordelia roughly by the arm and guided her between 2 old houses.

“Hey!”

The man in black let go of Cordelia after giving her a little shove. Cordelia looked up and was in shock. There they were; all in a row, bound and gagged, all standing on barrels with nooses around their necks. Her entire family, Faustus, Zelda, Jake, LJ, Prudence, Ambrose, Sabrina, Hilda, and even Dr. C.

Without a 2nd thought, Cordelia turned to the man in black. “Okay, you got me. I am a witch. But I’m the only 1. My family didn’t even know, they’re completely innocent. Do whatever you want to me but let them go!”

“Bull!” The man in black declared. “Everyone knows that magic goes through the bloodline so if you're a witch, so is your family.”

“But I’m adopted!” Cordelia stressed. It was the 1st thing she could think of.

“Then why do you look exactly like your mother? You’re lying!” The man in black turned to the men behind the barrels. “Hang them!” He ordered.

“NO!” Cordelia screamed but the man in black held her as the barrels were kicked and the Spellmans were hanged.

“And as for you,” The man in black stared hatefully down at Cordelia. “You’re a witch by your own admission. Your punishment will be to burn at the stake.”

Cordelia didn’t, couldn’t say anything. Her entire family was just murdered for just being born witches. She choked back tears as she was tied to the stake.

“Daughter, would you like to do the honors?” The man in black asked.

“I would love to.”

Suddenly, Cordelia was face to face with Sara, who had a torch in her hand.

“I knew you were trouble since the 1st day I saw you!”

Sara only smiled. “Goodbye, witch. Thanks for the friends.” Sara lit the pyre and Cordelia watched the orange flames crack, flickering, and then it jumped? When the fire jumped for the 2nd time, Cordelia felt her body jump with it.

The next thing Cordelia knew, her eyes opened and she realized she was still on the bus. As the other students were laughing and talking, some about the recent speedbump they just passed, Cordelia sat up. Her hand on her chest, willing her heartbeat to go back to normal. Cordelia looked up at the sound of loud laughter. She grew sad when she realized it was Sara and the triplets. Cordelia frowned; she was so happy and excited to get the text this morning. She practically ran all the way to the schoolyard. When she discovered that they were already on the bus, Cordelia thought nothing of going on the bus. Yet the more she talked, the more Cordelia saw the triplets’ faces grew blanker and blanker. They had no idea what she was talking about! Cordelia’s heart sank yet she knew she wasn’t crazy. She knew that the text came from Erin’s phone. Cordelia suspected that Sara may have stolen the phone and sent the message herself to make Cordelia look foolish. Cordelia turned to get off the bus when Mrs. Robinson stopped her. Mrs. Robinson then showed her the paper and the name on it. Cordelia knew it was faked, (it must be!) There was no one there to save her. Cordelia’s heart fell into her shoes when she realized the bus to Salem was moving and she was still on it. With no other choice, Cordelia sat in the very back, which on a deluxe bus was like a padded bench with seat belts, and tried to control her breathing, just like she was trying to do now.

“Are you okay, Cordelia?” asked a classmate who sat nearby.

“I’m fine, Anne.” Cordelia lied. She was anything but fine! It was actual life and death if someone discovered her secret. As she sat up and looked around the bus, she envied the happy carefree smiles of her peers. Half of Cordelia just wanted the earth to open up and swallow her whole. The other half of her just wanted to stand up and scream. This entire journey was billed as an educational trip but Cordelia couldn’t understand what, if anything, could be ‘educational’ about a town infamous for killing witches, her kind, her people. For Cordelia, this was just as cruel as taking a person of the Jewish faith to tour a WW II death camp. Cordelia sighed as she quickly wiped a tear away. She had already decided that the only way to survive this weekend was to stay down and keep quiet. Hoping to distract herself, Cordelia took out her phone.

“Aw, man!” Cordelia groaned as she read the new message. Cordelia decided earlier not to involve her family. After all, nothing good could come from bringing even more witches to Salem. Despite this, by around 8:30, in a fit of panic, Cordelia texted her father. The instant she hit send, she regretted it. The only thing she could do now was hoping against hope that Faustus didn’t get the message. Now she knew; not only did her father get the message, but he also sent a reply.

Dear Cody,

Stay clam. I’m coming to get you as soon as can. I love you. Dad.

With a defeated sigh, Cordelia let her phone drop into her lap and rested her forehead against the window. She was already stressed as hades and they weren’t even there yet! When Cordelia noticed the sun was beaming down on her, she reached for the golden crescent moon at her neck. “Father sun, mother moon, make time fly. Make this weekend end soon.” She whispered.

Faustus didn’t understand. It was only 2 days ago that Cordelia came home crying at the mere thought of going to Salem, convinced she would die. Now she was on a bus going there? It just didn’t make any sense. Faustus knew how important Cordelia’s friends were to her but still, he just couldn’t imagine his strong-willed daughter being so desperate to win her friends’ favor that she would be talked into taking the trip. Further proof of this was Cordelia’s own text message. The message wasn’t a confessional of a kid who got carried away. It was more like a cry for help. It actually contained the phase S.O.S, which had to be a plea for help. Even if Cordelia had gone to Salem willingly, it shouldn’t have been allowed by her teachers. Even though he had always planned to claim illness and pull out at the last second, as the 7th-grade teacher, Faustus was preparing for this trip all week. Therefore, he knew that every student needed a permission slip signed by a parent or guardian to even go on the trip. Now he knew that Zelda would never sign anything that would put their daughter anywhere near Salem and Hecate knows he didn’t sign a permission slip so Cordelia should have never been able to leave with the others. She should have been kicked off that bus the moment a teacher saw her. Every time Faustus thought of his sweet, youngest child alone in that witch-hating town make Faustus pressed his foot hard on the gas pedal. He was driving on the highway, just about to enter yet another town, when something odd happened. The bottom left side of the car bounced and then dragged. The sudden movement startled Faustus so he took his eyes off the road for just a second to see what was wrong in the back. When he turned his attention back to the road, he saw a cat lying in the middle of the laneway. On instinct, Faustus turned to miss the cat and went up onto a curb. As soon as Faustus collected himself, he got out of the car. He slammed the door, angry at what he saw. The rear left tire had a big nail in it and was still leaking air. The front tire was busted up from hitting the curb.

“Damn!” Faustus swore. So much for catching up to the bus before it got to Salem. Unless…Faustus knelt by the rear tire, raised his hand, and was about to say a spell when-

“Hi there, fellow. Do ya need some help?”

Faustus looked up and saw a kind, elderly man with a tow truck right behind him. Faustus sighed, now he felt stuck. Yes, it would undoubtedly be faster to fix the car by magic, Faustus couldn’t use magic in front of a witness nor could he deny that he was in trouble. So he greeted the man, who was named Gus and it turned out that Gus owned an auto shop in the city. So Gus hooked Faustus’s car up to his truck and they drove to the shop. When they got there, Gus left Faustus in the lobby. 10 minutes later, Gus returned, frowning.

“I’m sorry, friend, but I just found a note from my partner and he had to go tend to an emergency so I’m the only 1 to look after the shop. Plus, I was just in the back, and I swear this never happens, but we seem to out of tires. So, I’m afraid you’re stuck here for a while.”

Faustus sighed. He knew he should have used magic! “Thank you for the ride into town.” He told Gus. Faustus began to walk around the waiting room as Gus went back to work. In the seating area, among the magazines, Faustus found a town map.

“Hey, do you have a bathroom here?”

“Yeah. 1st door on the left.” Gus answered.

“Thank you.” Faustus was pleased to discover that it was a private, single-person bathroom. After locking the door, Faustus unfolded the map and studied it until he found that there was A Walmart supercenter in this town. Astral projecting to a place you never been before was always risky, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He laid the map on the floor and then he laid beside the map. Faustus closed his eyes and slowed his breathing. It worked; for when Faustus opened his eyes again, he was right in front of the store. After thanking Hecate, Faustus entered the store. It was big and crowded so Faustus knew he had to hurry. Faustus made quick work of finding the auto department and selecting the correct tires. The trouble, as Faustus soon learned, was upfront. There was only 1 check-out station open and a very long lineup. Faustus stood in line, carrying a tire in each hand when he saw the 1st of those hateful birds in the window.

Oh no! Come on, come on, come on! Faustus silently willed the line to get a move on already.

Soon after, came another bird and another. By the time there were 4, Faustus realized his nose was bleeding. When 6 birds were all in a row, Faustus’s entire body was shaking and his head felt ready to explode. He could hold on no more. Sighing, Faustus dropped the tires and closed his eyes, only to return to his body on the bathroom floor. Faustus sat up and hit the titles with his palms. “Damn it!” He had to find another way to fix his car and get to his daughter and soon!

After all the stories about how all the mortals tortured and killed them, Cordelia wondered if any of the Salem witches ever simply died from boredom. If so, Cordelia may have found their descendent. It was late afternoon and the class was listening to a lecture in an old town hall. The only thing that Cordelia found remotely interesting about this guy was he has been talking for over 2 hours and had still to get a single fact right. If this so ‘witch expect’ attended the academy, Cordelia felt certain that he would easily fail 1st-year witch history. Cordelia sighed and looked out the window, only to see a graveyard, because, of course, there was a graveyard right there! Maybe it was because she was a real witch, but ever since she had arrived in Salem, Cordelia has been experienced odd things. Like wherever she went, Cordelia heard noises, like moaning and weeping, possibly from the murdered witches. Even though the Salem roads were paved, Cordelia could swear she heard splashing, as if she was walking on blood. Cordelia shook her head and turned the other way. Cordelia managed to lock eyes with Erin, and they smiled at each other. The bus had arrived in Salem at 12:30. So the first thing the class did was have lunch at a restaurant called The Witch’s Brew. (Salem got absolutely zero points for subtly.) Cordelia had a bit of luck when she was seated next to Erin at lunch. She was finally got to explain about the text, how the girls wanted to talk to her before leaving for Salem and how it came from Erin’s phone. Erin then explained that she lost her phone 3 days ago. In fact, the last thing Erin did before she left the house this morning was to ask her mom to keep looking for it. Therefore, Erin couldn’t have written that text. Still, the 2 girls got to talking during the meal and at least, for now, there was peace between Cordelia and 1 of her friends. The lecture was finally over and the class started to file out. Cordelia sneaked away to the bathroom. She did this several times today, whenever she felt the need to regroup.

You’re doing great, girl. Cordelia thought to herself. All you have to do now is get through supper, another walking tour, and then it’s off to the motel for the night. Then just 3 more days, Cordelia sighed.

When Cordelia returned to the front, she noticed that everyone from before had gone and only 2 maids were talking to each other.

“I don’t know, Dru. We come in here every day and we listen to that blockhead, every single day, telling lie after lie. But it seems especially wrong to let him tell all this to schoolchildren. It just seems so irresponsible to me.”

Drusilla, the other maid, sighed. “Shelley, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times. It doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, he’s just another mortal spinning fairy tales for mortal children. It has nothing to with us.”

“Us?” Cordelia jumped into the conversation without thinking. “You’re not mortals either? Are you witches?”

The 2 maids were visually shocked. “Mortal? Who said mortal?” Drusilla asked. “I said more tell, yeah, more tell. That darn lecturer is always leaving without telling us.”

While Drusilla was trying, very unsuccessfully, to talk herself out of trouble, Shelley knocked over the bucket of water she was mopping with. “Oh, for Hades’s sake!”

Cordelia smiled. “For Hade’s sake? That sounds like a witch phase to me. Don’t worry, I’m a witch too.”

“Oh, great. Another little girl who thinks she’s a real witch.” Although Drusilla muttered this to herself, Cordelia still overheard her.

The Spellman witch raised her hand and the spilled water was back in the bucket. “Now do you believe me?” Cordelia smiled.

“You are a witch.” Shelley said with awe and then pointed to the door. “What about the class you came in with? Are they witches?”

“No.” Cordelia shook her head. “They’re all mortals, I’m the only one.”

Drusilla raised an eyebrow. “You’re here all alone? What are you? 11?”

“12, actually,” Cordelia answered. “Yes, I’m alone, but it’s a long and confusing story and I don’t know how to explain it. What about you 2? Do you live in Salem as well as working here?”

“Dru lives in town, but you wouldn’t find me here after dark.”

Drusilla rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be such a baby, Shelley. I figured I’m safer here than anywhere else, kind of how like a farmer will never search for a fox in a henhouse.”

Cord smiled, she wasn’t sure whether that statement was madness or brilliant.

“Don’t worry, kid.” Drusilla continued. “Your day trip must be almost over. You’ll be home before you know it.”

“Oh, it’s not a day trip. The class will be here until Monday.”

“You’re staying overnight? Here? At a motel? But what about the rebels?” Shelley seemed frightened.

“The rebels?” Cordelia asked. “Who or what are the rebels?”

“They’re a secret group of mortals who believe that witches never left Salem. It’s said that to this day, they go around at night, leaving fresh blood on the motel door of witches.”

“Don’t scare her with that old wives’ tales! I’ve lived here for almost ten years and that never happened to me.”

“That’s because you don’t use motels.”

Drusilla dismissed Shelley with a shake of her head and took something out of her pocket. “Pay no mind to Shelley, but I would feel better if you took this good luck charm.”

“I just can’t take it. What if I pay for it?” Cordelia suggested. “$5 bucks?”

They agreed and as they exchanged items, Drusilla caught sight of Cordelia’s wrist. “Oh my gosh! Have you always had that?”

“What? My birthmark? Yes, I’ve always it.”

Drusilla rubbed it a bit with her thumb. “It’s not coming off. If this is what I think it is, well, honey, you are not a witch, you are THE witch.”

“What does that mean?”

Before anyone could speak further, Mrs. Applegate, another teacher from Greendale middle school, appeared at the door. “Here you are, Cordelia. Come along, it’s time for dinner and it’s starting to rain.”

It was still raining when Faustus watched the sunset from 1 of the auto shop’s windows then he sighed and turned away. Faustus simply couldn’t believe he had wasted most of the day here. This partnership with the van had yet to show up and Gus was busy with a steady stream of customers. Despite being in the same place most of the day, Faustus tried desperately to make contact with his daughter with a series of calls, texts, and video messages, all to no avail. It wasn’t surprising. After all, the class must have arrived in Salem hours ago and the 1st rule of any field trip was to turn off any and all cell phones. As for Zelda, Faustus sighed again. Faustus was too ashamed to call Zelda. Yes, he promised to call his wife as soon as he found Cordelia, but not only had he yet to find their daughter, he had no new news of her whatsoever. Maybe because it was later, Faustus thought he should try to reach Cordelia again. He took a seat in the waiting room and once again, pulled out his phone.

“Hey, I know that girl,” said the guy next to and tapped where Cordelia was on the family picture that was Faustus’s screen.

Faustus turned to the stranger. “You do?”

“Sure. I’m a traveling salesman and today I had a business lunch in Salem. Anyway, I was just leaving the restaurant when I saw a bus with a pile of kids coming off it. I remember that girl because she was the last 1 off the bus and she didn’t seem at all happy to be there.”

Faustus nodded as he listening to the other man. Knowing that his daughter was in fact in Salem and had been since lunch lit a fire under Faustus. He stood up and walked with purpose.

“What are you doing?” asked the salesman.

“What I should have done hours ago,” Faustus murmured to himself. He borrowed a phone book from behind the front desk, looked up the listing for a local cab company, and called. He then took a taxi to Walmart and picked out the 2 correct tires in person. 20 minutes after he returned to the auto shop, a man came to see him.

“Mr. Spellman, your new tires are on and ready to go.”

“Great!”

“But I’d like to have a look at your muffler.”

“My muffler?” Aside from the tires, Faustus knew that his car was fine. This guy was just trying to play him for a sucker and Faustus simply didn’t have time for this.

Still, he just said, “Sure, do whatever you have to.”

The man went back into the garage. Faustus found a discreet place to hide, where he could see his car. He waited until someone touched his car before he whispered a spell in Latin. Then the car roared to life, seemly by itself.

Faustus then ran up to the man. “Wow, you seem to have the golden touch. My car is purring like a kitten now. I gave Gus my address so you can bill me. Thank you.” Faustus got into his car and drove off while the man was still trying to figure out what just happened.

Before long, Faustus was back on the highway. One advantage of driving at night was there was barely any traffic. However, as the hours passed and Faustus got closer to Salem, the rain came down harder and harder. So hard that the paved road, that Faustus could barely see, seemed like silver. Still, Faustus kept on driving because of heaven or high water, he was determined to find his daughter…tonight! The clock on the dash read 10:37 when he finally passed the Welcome to Salem sign. Now, all he had to do was find the motel with a bus in front of it. He found it on the 3rd block he went down. Faustus parked his car and ran out of the rain and out the roof of the motel. He ran into some of his students that were lingering outside. They seemed surprised to see him but unfortunately, none of them knew where Cordelia was. Faustus was making his way to the motel’s office. He rounded the corner and ran into Nina, who smiled at him.

“Fausty! You made it! I knew you would.”

“Mrs. Robinson, please tell me, where is my daughter?”

“Oh, she’s rooming with a couple of other girls.” Nina said casually but then she leaned in and whispered “As for me, I’m in room 13, alone and ready whenever you are.”

As Nina walked away, Faustus rolled his eyes and beyond him, he heard a door open, girlish laughter, then a firm closing of the door, and finally a splash, as if falling in a puddle. Faustus turned and indeed, it was a mud puddle. It took a second for the girl to moan and turn over.

“Cordelia?”

Her eyes widened. “Dad?” Cordelia got up and went up to her father. With a quivering lip, Cordelia let go of the tears that she had kept inside all day as she threw her arm around Faustus’s waist.

“I’m sorry, Dad” She nodded. “I really am. I got scared and panicked. I regretted that text message the moment I sent it. I never meant for you or any of the family to come here.”

Faustus gently put his hand under Cordelia’s chin and forced his daughter to look up at him. “Never mind that text.” Faustus gently said. “What are you doing here?”

Cordelia shook her head, furiously. “I don’t know, I really don’t! I meant it when I told Jake I would be back in 10 minutes. I only got on the bus because the triplets were already on it when I reached the schoolyard. It was a total bust because Erin didn’t even send me the message and they just kicked me out because, for the 1st time in my life, I lied to the triplets about believing in witches.”

“Cordy, why didn’t you get off the bus?”

“I tried, but Mrs. Robinson wouldn’t let me. I begged and begged. I even considered teleporting myself home but there were too many witnesses. Then she showed me my permission slip.”

Faustus was confused. “What do you mean? Permission slips are useless until they’re signed.”

“But it was signed, Dad,” Cordelia told him. “It had your signature.”

Mine? Faustus thought, dumbstruck. Then, Faustus thought about how everyone was rightly surprised to see him, except for Nina. Faustus took off his coat and wrapped it around Cordelia. “You’re wet, muddy and you must be cold. Go and wait for me in the office. I’ll be right there, I promise.”

As soon as Cordelia was out of sight, Faustus sighed, turned, and muttered to himself, “Nina Robinson, for your own sake, I better be wrong about this!”

Faustus walked up and knocked on the door of room 13.

“Come in.”

As soon as he opened the door, Faustus noticed that there were candles everywhere in the darkened room, even on the 2nd bed. On the 1st bed, lay Nina, on her stomach, posed as if she was in a playboy magazine. All she wore was a black leather corset, a matching thong, and heels. “I knew you would come. All I had to do is get you away from the school and your wife.”

Furious, Faustus entered the room and slammed the switch that turned on the big light.

“Where are they?” He demanded.

“Where is what?” Asked Nina.

“The permission slips. You have them with you I know it!” Faustus returned, quite fiercely.

Nina said nothing so Faustus looked around and saw a teacher’s leather briefcase leaning against the TV.

“Ah!” Faustus went to the case and searched through it. 1 brief look in the mirror told Faustus that Nina had crawled to the end of the bed and was now was dangerously close to him. “Madam, I advise you to keep your hands to yourself.”

Oh?” said Nina in a flirty manner. “And why is that?”

“Because anything of yours that touches me, you are not getting back!”

Nina frowned. “You’re in a mood.”

Faustus turned to face her. “Yes, I am. Especially since I just found these.” There was a piece of paper in each hand. “Here is a permission slip for Cordelia Spellman and it does indeed bear my signature but I don’t remember signing this but this might explain it.” Faustus raised his other hand. “This is a lined paper, with nothing but my name written on it, over and over again, front and back. Yet the strange thing is at the top of the front paper looks like your handwriting, but the bottom of the back page looks like my handwriting. You forged my name on this permission slip, didn’t you?”

Nina wore her smile proudly. “It worked, didn’t it? You’re here.”

“I came here to bring Cordelia home!” Faustus fumed. “It has nothing whatsoever to do with you! And where do you get your nerve? Kidnapping my daughter and bringing her here, of all places!”

“Kidnapping? Oh, don’t be so overdramatic. It’s only a field trip.”

“To a town infamous for its injustice and murder! It wasn’t your place. It’s up to me and Zelda to decide what our daughter is exposed to!”

“Did you really have to bring your wife up again?” Nina asked, looking bored. “If you ask me, I think that Zelda is too old for you.”

“Not that’s any of your business, but Zelda and I are the same age and you want to know what I think? I think you’re not worthy enough to speak Zelda’s name!”

“Oh, come on, next you’ll tell me that you’re not attracted to me.”

“I’m not and another thing- “Faustus’s voice was drowned out by the ringing of a phone. Faustus automatically looked to the bedside table, where Nina’s phone lay charging. However, Faustus soon realized that the ringing was closer to him. In fact, the phone was in the briefcase. Nina leaped off the bed, trying to get the phone first but because he was closer, Faustus got it.

The pink, sparkly girlish phone looked oddly familiar. “Hello?” Faustus answered. “Mrs. Warner?” Faustus listened for a moment. “Oh, I see. May I ask how long has Erin been looking for this phone? Oh, I see. Yes, I’ll bring it by soon.” He ended the call and then turned to Nina. “Oh, this is low, even for you.”

Nina gave an innocent shrug. “What?”

“You know perfectly well ‘what’” Faustus snapped. “This cell phone belongs to Erin Warner. According to her mother, Erin had been looking everywhere for this for the past 3 days. This makes it impossible for Erin to send that message to Cordelia about wanting to make up at 5 this morning. You did it, didn’t you? You knew the girls were fighting and you knew that Cordelia and I were not coming on this trip. You took advantage of my daughter’s desire to make up with her friends, and once you got her on that damn bus, you kept her there, knowing full well I would come to collect my daughter!”

“But Faustus, I did it for us.”

“There is no us, you lunatic!” Faustus spat. “And I’m getting so tired of rejecting you.”

Nina smiled. “Then don’t.” She tried to put her around Faustus’s neck but he fought her off.

“Enough!” Faustus growled. “I have had it with you! I’ve tried to reason with you, to avoid you, and to explain to you how important my family is to me. All that’s left is the ugly truth so here it is. I will NEVER sleep with you! You could be the last woman, scratch that, the last person on earth, and I would still never sleep with you. In fact, you sickened me because you remind me of who I used to be and who I swore I would never become again. The fact that you would steal a child’s phone makes you a disgrace to the entire teaching profession!” Faustus then ripped up the permission slip and let the pieces fall to the floor. “Consider this me taking back custody of my daughter.” Faustus turned and left without another word, slamming the door behind him. Faustus didn’t want Cordelia to see him angry so he took a moment on the motel’s tiny porch. That’s where he first saw the thunder and lighting in addition to the rain.

The Spellman house had been filling with family all day. As word got around about Faustus, Cordelia, and Salem, people came running. Prudence was first. She was worried when Zelda, who was never late, missed the morning assembly at the academy. Prudence was even more worried when she learned when Zelda wouldn’t be leaving the house today. Hilda learned everything when she called the mortuary. By the time late afternoon rolled around, all the family knew and Ambrose, Jake, Prudence, Hilda, Sabrina, and LJ were all at the house. After dinner, they were joined by Dr. C and the other 2 weird sisters. At first, the plan was simple, just keep Zelda busy and distracted until Faustus called then everything would calm down. But the later it got, the more worried everyone got. By 11, they had run out of topics of conversation and games to play. They all felt helpless as they just sat in the drawing-room and Zelda walked0 up and down the hallway for the million time. Zelda couldn’t sit down; the only reason she ate at all was due to Hilda’s pleading. Zelda refused to go 10 feet without a phone so she stayed on the main floor all day. Zelda had no idea what to do with her hands since her last cigarette was long gone. Zelda sighed when she checked her watch. It was getting so late. If there was still no word from either Faustus or Cordelia by dawn, Zelda had already decided to go to Salem herself but she hadn’t told the others because she didn’t want anyone to talk her out of it. Zelda’s head whipped around as the phone began to ring. She ran to the phone and picked it up.

“Hello, hello?” Zelda tensed as the family gathered around her.

“Zelda? Dearest?”

Zelda’s grip tightened on the phone and closed her eyes and cherishing her husband’s voice. “Faustus! Finally, how are you? Where are you? Have you found Cordelia yet?”

“I’m fine, my dearest,” Faustus assured Zelda. “It’s been an insanely long day but I’m finally in Salem and as for Cordelia” The line went silent for a second and then… “Hi, Mom!”

Zelda bit her lip to keep her tears of joy and relief in check. “Oh, Cordelia, my sweet, precious girl. How are you? Did anyone hurt you?”

“No. I’m fine, Mom. I’ve been with the class all day and no one suspected me at all, I promise. And I definitely feel safer now that Dad’s here with me. Mom, is LJ there?”

“Yes, she’s right here.” Zelda passed the phone to her stepdaughter.

“Hello? Cordy? What’s wrong?”

“LJ, I’m so sorry.”

LJ was confused. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

“Because tonight was the night you were supposed to bring your boyfriend to dinner to meet the family.”

LJ was touched. “The fact that you remember that after all, you had to deal with today proves that you are the sweetest little sister in the whole wide world. Peter can wait. What’s important now is to get you and Dad home safe and sound.”

The sisters chatted for a few minutes and then LJ gave the phone back to Zelda and after a few moments, Cordelia passed the phone back to Faustus.

“So, now that you’re located Cordelia, are you in your home now?” Zelda asked.

“Oh, not exactly dearest. I know that it was my idea to just grab Cordelia and then drive all through the night back to Greendale, but there’s a problem here. You see, there’s a raging storm here and it’s not safe to be on the road. I barely made it here.”

“Can’t you teleport?” Zelda suggested. “Surely you must know the way home.”

“I do, but people saw Cordy and I come in this motel room so we just can’t up and disappear.”

Zelda frowned. “I don’t like the idea of you and Cordelia spending the whole night in Salem.”

“Neither do I,” Faustus agreed, “but it could be a lot worse. You see, Mrs. Applegate was kind enough to give up her room so she will have to share with Mrs. Robinson.” Was it Zelda’s imagination or was there laughter in her husband’s voice? “Anyway,” Faustus continued, “this is a single room so Cordy and I will have to share the bed tonight. The storm is sure to be over by morning and then Cordy and I will be on our way. I can assure you, dearest, I won’t be in this town a moment more than I need to.”

Zelda sighed; she still didn’t like it, but she understood. “Please be careful, Faustus, and give Cordy a goodnight kiss for me. I love you.”

“We’ll be home before you know it. I love you too.”

Although she had taken her wet clothes off when she first got to the room, Cordelia was still cold after the phone call home, so she treated herself to a hot bath. Since she had no PJs, she put the white plush motel robe back on and double knotted it so she could wear it as a nightdress. Faustus then took a quick shower to wash off his road trip. When he stepped back into the main room, he found Cordelia standing before the window, the rain and the moon casting her face in a ghastly glow.

“You know; you were born on a night very much like this.”

Cordelia looked up at him. “Don’t you hear them, Dad?”

“Hear what?”

Cordelia frowned. “The moans pleads and cries of our people. Thousands and thousands of them, crying out in pain and for justice. I’ve been hearing them all day, ever since I got off the bus.”

Faustus heard nothing and thought it must be a divine child thing. “Come on honey, we have a long drive home tomorrow. We better get some sleep.”

As they made themselves comfortable in bed, Faustus noticed something he hadn’t before. “Cordy, why are shivering? Didn’t that bath warm you up?”

“Oh, am I shivering?” His daughter asked. “I’ve been doing it all day. I guess I don’t even notice it anymore.”

Faustus could help smiling to himself. As a 12-year-old witch who had in the company of mortals, doing a tour of Salem all day, Cordelia had every right to be afraid but she would never admit it. She was so strong, so proud, so like her mother. “You’re very brave.”

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. If I was so brave, I would have never caved and texted you that message.”

“Oh, will you stop! I’m glad you sent that message. I’m glad that I was able to track you down. Besides, the text doesn’t take away from the fact that you just spent an entire day learning about 1 of the darkest chapter in our people’s history.”

“Yep, that’s me. Cordelia the brave…and the friendless.” She muttered.

Faustus felt his face grow hot. This whole thing started because Cordelia wanted to make right with her friends. She must have been heartbroken to learn that her friends didn’t text her this morning. Damn you, Nina! Faustus thought and then said out loud, “Don’t worry Cordy. You’ll make up with the Warners soon, I know it.”

Faustus turned off the lamp and despite being quiet, neither Cordelia nor Faustus slept all night. Maybe they were overtired or overstressed by being 2 witches in Salem. It was dawn when exhaustion finally took Cordelia and she rolled over into her father’s arms. Faustus curled his long-limbed body around her protectively before kissing her forehead. “Don’t worry baby, Daddy’s got you.” He whispered before sleep claimed him too.

1 hour later, a scream woke them up. They jumped out of bed and open the door to see the class, teachers and all of the hotel staff were in front of them. Faustus looked at the door. “Is that paint? Or blood?”

“The rebels” Cordelia whispered, suddenly remembering what the maids told her. She looked around and froze. Her room wasn’t the only marked. There was also blood on the door of the room that the triplets shared with Sara.

#chilling adventures of sabrina #caoz #chapter 19 #fanfic #spellwood #zelda spellman #faustus blackwood #hilda spellman #sabrina spellman #ambrose spellman #prudence blackwood #cordelia spellman #lj spellman #jake spellman #please comment #please reblog

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war-sword · 4 years

Text

the ilvermorny exchange (7)

Part 7 | index | masterlist

summary: You’re an Ilvermorny student, and you’ve applied to the International Magic Student Exchange Program to attend your sixth year at Hogwarts instead. You and your friends are excited to go to school overseas, but a certain blonde prefect has decided to personally make your exchange year suck. You decide to give him a taste of his own medicine. (draco x reader, enemies to lovers, female reader) words: 5,050 A/N: i unfortunately must say ‘welcome back’ AGAIN because it took me an embarrassing amount of months to create this chapter. sincerely sorry. at least i have something to offer in apology this time! anyway i won’t bore you too much ;) hope you all enjoy (look how this taglist has grown 🥺 and if you’re new and want to be added, just send an ask) taglist: @tragically-cordelia @mhftrs @2pumpkin-pasty @gingerlouisgirl @seriouslynotfunny @clockworkherondale @cherrie511 @songforhema @marvelrose @acciodracoo @eltanin-malfoy @socontagiousimagines @drawlfoy @purplelittlepup @trashysara @imatoiletpaper @laureldrakefics @definitely-not-spider-gwen @candune @wolfsbxnee @bubblybubbubs @nerd-domland @fricktheitinerary @bored-and-bothered @shawn-is-bruh @droppingthegloves

◈◈◈

The last time you remember being this excited for your first day of school was when you were eleven. The second you open your eyes and remember you’re in your dormitory, and not in your room at home, you feel wide awake. After the usual first day chaos of getting ready, you– along with Stella and Grace– meet Draco in the common room to head to breakfast.

The Great Hall is already bustling, the outer tables packed with lower years filling up on their first Ilvermorny breakfast. Grace spots Alex and Ginny already seated at a table with Chris, and you make your way over.

“Hey guys,” you say cheerfully as you all sweep into chairs. Warm breakfast foods cover the table, and you happily scoop grits onto your plate.

“Hey,” Alex and Ginny say in unison. Chris merely waves his hand, eating and already engrossed in a piece of paper he’s scratching away on with a quill.

“You got yours already?” Stella says, peeking over Chris’s shoulder from her place next to him.

“Yep,” Chris mumbles around a mouthful of toast. “And it’s so fucked up. I hate Herbology, and they always want to put me in it instead of my free period. I need that, otherwise I’ll never pass Ancient Runes!”

You watch in your peripheral vision as Draco very neatly arranges his breakfast on his plate. He’s being uncharacteristically quiet, but he at least looks more relaxed than he did last night. “Schedules?” He asks when he notices you looking.

“Yep. Alice should be bringing ours soon.”

Sure enough, about five minutes later Alice comes over to the table with a dwindling stack of papers. “Finally, I saved you guys for last.” She hands you, Stella, Grace and Draco pieces of parchment with your timetables on them. You give it a quick once over as she moves to the opposite side of the table. “Is it alright if I sit with you guys this morning? Everything else is getting full.” She gestures to the chair beside Ginny.

“Of course,” Ginny says, moving her bag out of the way.

Alice slumps down and pulls off her cloak, her sage-green Head Girl badge prominent against the black of her uniform shirt. “I swear I know everyone in Horned Serpent, but every year it seems like there’s at least five people I’ve never even seen.” She shovels eggs onto her plate unceremoniously. “I hate schedule duty.”

“You’ll never have to do it again, though,” Stella points out, lifting her fork. “But while you’re at it, can you tell Angeles that I want to switch to–”

“No.” Alice says flatly. “Once the paper is delivered, my work is done.”

Stella groans dramatically. Alex nervously picks at her omelette. “If stupid James doesn’t hurry up with ours, I am going to kick him in the balls.”

You put your schedule next to Draco’s to compare. You’ll have N.E.W.T. Potions together on Mondays and Wednesdays, and to your delight you see he has History of Magical Painting and Photography on Wednesdays and Fridays as well. “You signed up for it?” You beam at him.

“Of course,” he says, smiling back. “You asked. And why not, it should be easy. What the hell is there to know?”

You shrug noncommittally. “And I’ll get to kick your ass in Potions again.”

Draco’s mouth drops open in false shock. “You’re not going to be my partner?”

“Uh, when Grace is in that class? Think again.” You turn back to your food with a smirk.

“Yeah, back off my Potions partner.” Grace puts her hand on yours for emphasis. “I’ve called dibs since second year.”

“Yeah, and you hoarded all your combined knowledge so I failed my freaking O.W.L.” Stella interjects.

“You were always shitty at Potions anyway, Stella.”

The familiar voice makes you all jump. Even though you knew he was coming, the sight of James standing behind Alex and Ginny with papers in his hands is enough to make your insides shrivel up.

There’s a long stretch of silence at the table as everyone stares at him, Stella especially. If looks could kill. James seems blissfully unaware as he holds out the pieces of parchment to Alex and Ginny. Alex snatches hers away without a second glance, but Ginny takes hers with a look of amusement.

“So, how was everyone’s summer?” James asks, continuing to stand there.

No one says a word.

You’re pushing your grits around on your plate– they’ve gone cold and now taken up the consistency of the remnants that Hiccoughing potion leaves in the bottom of the cauldron. You look across the table at Alex. She’s pretending to be engrossed in her schedule, but she senses you watching and looks up to catch your eye. You watch her bite her tongue and squeeze her eyes shut to keep from laughing. Next to her Ginny is doing something similar, both going entirely unnoticed by James who’s right behind them.

“Well, clearly I didn’t spend mine brewing potions,” Stella finally says, scathingly.

You wish you could melt into your chair. Into the floor. You don’t even dare to look over at Draco.

Chris, the only one at the table who’s not radiating ‘leave-us-the-fuck-alone’, shifts awkwardly in his chair. “Mine was fine.”

“Did you not have your birthday party this July, Chris?” James asks.

“Uh, no. We were in Taiwan the whole time.”

That was a lie. You had gone to that party.

More silence.

“Okay, I’ve got to go. More schedules to give out, and all.” James says, but he’s now entirely empty-handed. “Catch you guys later.”

The relief around the table is palpable the second James is out of earshot, weaving his way between the tables.

“Fucking asshole,” Stella grumbles, flipping off his retreating figure.

Meanwhile, Ginny has broken out into giggles. “Galloping gargoyles, Y/N! Alex told me he was terrible, but I can’t believe you dated that wanker.”

Now you definitely want to melt into the floor.

“You what.” It’s not even a question that comes out of Draco’s mouth, and it’s dripping with revulsion.

You slump down into your chair and let out a pathetic groan, covering your burning face. You feel absolutely mortified.

“You’re right, Ginny,” Grace says, totally ignoring your meltdown. “I think he does spend most of the day mentally jerking himself off for being so fucking funny.”

“I wish you’d gone through with kicking him in the balls, Alex,” Stella adds.

“Uh, Draco? You good?” Chris interrupts. This gets you to move your hands down from your eyes. Just a bit.

Draco’s staring at you like he’s never seen you before in his entire life. Oh no. Is he really that pissed? “What?” You ask, putting your hands out.

“That bloke is your ex?”

“Uh, yeah. Unfortunately.”

This time his mouth is open in actual shock. “Y/N… I’m like, an eleven.” Draco points across the Hall to where James is now seated with his few friends. “He’s like, a two.”

Alex and Grace explode into laughter, and Ginny’s giggling only increases.

“Yes, I know, look how my taste has matured,” you drawl, but inwardly you’re glad he’s not already halfway across the Hall with his wand drawn.

Draco is back to staring at Jame’s mop of mousy dirty-blonde hair with disbelief. “What a dickhole.”

Stella has gone into a coughing fit.

“Can we stop talking about this,” you plead, running your hands over your face.

“You mean you never told Malfoy about him?” Ginny gapes. “Sorry, then. But also not sorry because the look on his face right now is priceless.”

“It wasn’t important.” You grumble. The rest of breakfast is just a lively session of making digs at James, in which you do not partake but also don’t bother stopping. It’s not like any of your friends are lying.

Ginny is taking it all in with a wonderful glow, meanwhile Draco just looks more and more disgusted. By the time eight o’clock rolls around, you’re more than ready to head to Potions. You make the hike to the western side of the castle and to the classroom for your year with Draco and Grace. Grace picks a table for two near the side of the room, and Draco watches as you set your things down.

“You were really serious, then.” Draco says.

“Deadly.” You make a shooing motion. “Bye!”

Draco turns up his nose. “I hate you,” he says decisively, and sits down a few tables in front of you. You pull your potions book from your bag and then rest your forehead on it, letting out a long sigh.

“I also thought you were kidding. But thanks for not ditching me.” Grace says.

“Bros before hoes,” you mumble. How had your morning taken such a turn already?

You keep your head down while Grace narrates the room for you. “It’s gonna be a small class again this year, it seems. Oh hey, Sarah’s here. And Robert. Aw, he’s going to sit with Draco.”

You lift your head to rest on your chin instead, to watch as Robert introduces himself to Draco and sits down next to him. Robert plays on the Thunderbird Quidditch team with Alex, so you’ve seen him around. Draco says something to him and they both turn in their chairs to look back at you and Grace. Robert gives you both a friendly wave. Grace pats your head once they’ve turned back around.

“Had you not told Draco about James?” She asks, her tone changing to something a little more serious.

“No. I dunno, we’re not really… ugh it’s hard to explain.” You trace the letters on the cover of your textbook. “Casual isn’t the right word. We are more than casual. Maybe we’re both just very… secure? We’re just having fun, we don’t really talk about all that emotional stuff. It’s only been official for a few months. Besides, James was almost two years ago. And he sucks. Who cares?”

Grace hums in response. “Well I haven’t known him very long, but Draco did seem a little shocked. Just tell him the story about how James is a piece of shit and be done with it. Um, and it might be something to do soon, considering that he’s in this class.”

You look up at Grace, and then turn your head the other way to see where she’s looking. James is coming in the door, eyes sweeping the now almost-full room for an empty space. You drop your forehead to your book again, not particularly caring if it leaves a red mark. “Fuck me.”

“Lighten up, Y/N.” Grace pats you again as you hear the door close and your teacher, Ms. Zenik, walk in from outside. “It’ll be fine.”

Several hours later you sit near Draco in one of the hallways with big windows, already doing your Potions knowledge pre-exam sheet during a free block. This is another one of your favorite halls, and it’s got a fountain on one side that’s decorated with moving ceramic cherubs, collecting water in tiny jugs that they mischievously pour over students who get too close.

Draco’s scratching away at his pre-exam with his stupidly elegant handwriting. You push your shoe against his, trying to engage him in a game of footsy.

“Y/N, stop,” he says flatly. Your second attempt gets you a little shove from his elbow.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

Draco makes a big deal of setting his quill down and blowing on his parchment to dry the ink, before closing it in his Potions book. “So, when were you planning on telling me that your ex is one of everyone’s favorite topics of discussion, and you know, just telling me in general?”

You sigh, setting your own pre-exam to the side. “It really is not that big of a deal, I swear. I swear!” You say again in response to Draco’s raised eyebrow. “It’s just that you’re the first person I’ve dated since. And there was a long time in between, I suppose. And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it would matter. You coming here was a surprise, remember? I never thought you would have to interact.”

“Okay, but still. Based on the way everyone reacted makes it seem like there’s a little more to it.”

“James and I started dating in fourth year,” you begin. “We dated for a year and a half. We were just stupid and young and thought we’d be together for a long time. But then he just broke up with me totally out of the blue. I was a mess for months.”

“He didn’t seem to care. He told me he was going to ‘give me space’, and wouldn’t even look at me or talk to anyone around me for an entire week. Even now we barely speak, it’s just too weird. He totally ruined it. That, and I heard from Jason he was talking to some other girl barely a week and a half after it happened.”

Draco’s got that disgusted look back on his face again. “What a piece of shit.”

“Yeah.” You rest your head in your hand. “He’s a dick. And insanely annoying, as you saw. But… I feel a little bit bad for him.”

“What?” Draco snaps. “Why? That's one of the shittiest breakup stories I’ve ever heard.”

“Yes, I know, I know,” you say. “It’s just that he barely has any friends, now. We were friends with all the same people before and while we were together. Chris was his best friend since first year. Everyone took my side after our breakup. Jason is one of the only people who will hold a full conversation with him anymore.”

“If they all stopped being friends with him, why does he act like they still are?” Draco asks.

“I don’t know! He’s an idiot. Maybe he feels bad. Or his two brain cells can’t string together the thought process that’s needed to evaluate human interaction.”

“So far, I’m definitely seeing the second one.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” You turn and put your hand on Draco’s leg. “Just one favor though– don’t go bothering him. Even if he’s annoying. All that shit was a long time ago now, I don’t need you going after him all high and mighty. I just like to forget about it. Please?”

You give him your softest look, and all you get in return is one of Draco’s best unbothered faces. “What makes you think you could stop me from hexing him into next week?”

“Draco! Come on, I don’t want people to think you’re one of those fly-off-the-handle boyfriends.”

“I am not,” he says staunchly. “My retributions are always very exact and calculated, I’ll have you know.”

You roll your eyes. “Can I at least ask for you to keep the overt ass-kicking to the Quidditch field?”

Draco considers. “Alright, fair.”

Since the hallway is almost entirely empty, you scoot as close as you can get and swing one of your legs over Draco’s lap. “Seriously.” you point your finger for emphasis. “Don’t go stirring the pot. Like I said, he barely ever talks to any of us. This morning was kind of an anomaly.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Annoying, a right idiot, so dumb he can’t even be bothered with. Sound good?”

“Check check check.”

Draco takes one of your hands and presses his lips against your knuckles. “I’d also like to make it clear I would never do that to you.” He gazes up at you from under his lashes.

You purse your lips together to hold back your grin. “Thanks.”

You break at the same time, dissolving into laughter. Draco wrinkles his nose up. “That was weird, hm?”

“So dramatic!” You tease. You press a kiss on his cheek anyway and watch his blush blossom from the contact.

“Alright, onto more important things. Tell me about the Quidditch.” He lets go of your hand to tap on your leg that’s still draped across him. “Tell me tell me tell me.”

“Ugh, I don’t know!” You pull your pre-exam back into your lap and lick the end of your quill. “I don’t even know who’s Captain for Horned Serpent this year. Ask Alex at lunch, she can tell you who to talk to, I’m sure.”

Draco curls his lip. “Merlin, you’re so useless.”

“Ooh, wait, or ask Gao when you get back to your room. He’s always been on the team. Except he might be skipping this year, he’s taking like, three extra N.E.W.T.s.”

“Well jokes on you, because that was a test and you failed,” Draco says, pushing you off his lap and pulling his own parchment back out again. “I already talked to Robert about it this morning.”

Your jaw drops. “What? Fuck you!”

You give him a shove and he pushes back. “Hey, quit you’re going to make me smudge–”

Draco is cut off by your loud gasp as icy cold water runs from the crown of your head and down your face. You wipe the water from your eyes and see Draco has a hand clapped over his mouth.

“You are cursing too loudly, young lady!” A tiny voice comes from your right, and you turn to see one of the cherubs glaring at you, empty jug under its arm. “You better watch your language, or there’s more where that came from!” It flies off in an angry huff.

Draco starts laughing deeply, and you flick some water at him. “Ah, hey, don’t get my homework wet!” He shields himself with his Potions book.

“Suck my–” you whip around to look at the fountain, where all the cherubs are waiting and watching with their beady little stone eyes to see what you’ll say next. “Toe.”

“Ooh, sorry. I’m not really into that.” He gives you a patronizing look.

You shove your parchment into your knapsack and get up, off to a bathroom to assess the damage to your hair.

༄

You felt slightly guilty of not finding the time sooner, but Ms. Bell didn’t seem at all bothered when you knocked on her classroom door on your second weekend.

“Y/N! Come in, I’m glad you were able to come hang out today.” She beckons you in, and moves all the papers she’s been grading off to the side of her desk.

“Me, too.” You say, sitting down in the chair she pulls out for you. “I want to start by saying we’ve all been enjoying class a lot.”

Ms. Bell beams. “Really? I’m so glad. Tell me what you think about the scrapbooks!”

Stella was the only person who ended up joining you and Draco in your favorite teacher’s new class. The class was tiny, barely fifteen students. Draco’s prediction of it being easy had so far come true, but that was mostly because you were really enjoying the material. You’d been taking so many notes your hand was cramped by the end of each class. There was apparently a lot to learn about the evolution of magical art and photography.

“The scrapbooks are great,” you said, referring to the new way Ms. Bell was having you all take notes. “Stella’s is very neat. Mine is alright, but I think it’ll get better as we go on. I’m not really sure how I want to structure it.”

“So far I think yours has been looking very good. And Draco has some of the loveliest handwriting I’ve ever seen.” She reaches into her pile to pull out the worksheet you turned in earlier in the week, his tight and neat cursive covering the page. “Do you know how he learned to write like this?”

You shrug. “Fancy European stuff. I think it’s impossible to read. It was so embarrassing when I would have to make my mom read out parts of his letters for me over the summer.” It’s a memory that makes you want to cringe. After the third letter, you’d really had to bootcamp yourself into learning more of his cursive.

Ms. Bell smiles. “I think it is very sweet how you met while you were on your Exchange year. Tell me some more about Hogwarts. Did you learn lots?”

“Not so much schoolwise,” you muse. “But I did in general, I think. They had a much more comprehensive and hands-on Magical Creatures class over there, that was cool. But no wandwork classes.”

“Ah, I have heard that,” Ms. Bell hums. “So without it, what was Defense Against the Dark Arts like?”

“Pretty horrifying, I gotta say. Also very hands-on.” You thought back to your many lessons with Professor Lupin. While some were not so bad, you distinctly remember crying through several classes. It was scary, being expected to face so many real threats, with your previous classes being mostly textbook only. “I think it’s something Ilvermorny could improve upon here. Although, I guess there’s not much need…” You trail off, not even wanting to say ‘He Who Shall Not Be Named’.

Ms. Bell nods, understanding where your trail of thought was headed anyway. “Speaking of, did you see him very often? Harry Potter?”

Now this was a part of your story you’d been dying to get to. “He was one of my first friends,” you say with a grin.

“What!” She gasps.

“Yes,” you say. “His best friend’s sister is that redhead girl who’s here on Exchange right now, Ginny Weasley? I think she’s in your History of Magic class.”

“Merlin, she is! So her brother is very close to him?’

“He apparently spends the summers with them.”

Ms. Bell is in a daze. “That’s incredible, Y/N. To be able to know the Boy Who Lived like that.”

“Well, he’s just Harry to me. And he’s pretty terrible about consistent letter sending. My other friend is much more timely.”

“Who’s that?”

You launch into a brief overview of your time at Hogwarts, telling her how you and Hermione became friends over Potions work, and moving into things like your little Christmas party and your sorting hat prank (glossing over a few details, of course). She very patiently sits and listens to the whole thing, and you appreciate how much she’s paying attention. You’re not sure what you’ll do without your favorite teacher to talk to when you leave school.

“It sounds like I’ll be needing to watch out for Jason this year,” she teases. “Although, I have to tell you we were all informed of that little escapade already. Principal Rittler read us all the letter she received from Dumbledore before we all went home for the summer. She could barely get through it, she was laughing so much.”

You gasp, clapping a hand to your mouth. “She knows? Everyone knows? Aw, Knuts.”

“What did you expect? From what I heard you caused quite a stir over there with it after someone apparently remembered it all.”

“Yes,” you say glumly, remembering that very clearly. Professor Trelawney had gone about yelling and screaming to the other teachers they’d been brainwashed, and Dumbledore had to set her straight himself. At least, that was the logical assumption everyone had been under. Why else would she have gone from hysterics to her normal level of paranoia in between lunch hour and dinner two days after?

When your eyes trail over to the clock in the corner of the room, you gasp again. “I’m so sorry, but I’ve got to go. It’s time for Quidditch trials.”

Ms. Bell raises an eyebrow. “You’re going?”

“Yes. I mean, no! I’m going to watch. No, I’d never dream of doing that.” You wave your hands in front of you. “I just told Draco I’d be there.”

“Okay, just making sure I hadn’t missed another new development,” Ms. Bell laughs. You both stand and have a quick hug.

“See you on Wednesday!” You call as you run from the room.

The Quidditch pitch is a good twenty minute walk from the fifth floor of the castle too all the way across the lawn, even if you’re moving fast. It’d been a good three years since you’d gone to watch Alex try out, and beyond that you were pretty sure each Captain did their tryouts differently. Even though you were going to be a good fifteen minutes late, you were sure you would be able to catch some of the action.

You finally reached the Quidditch structure, panting and sweaty, dreading all the climbing you were going to have to do up the stairs to be able to watch from a good spot. A group of people were seated in one of the boxes near the middle; if you went and sat a few rows above you were certain that would be sufficient.

Finally, you plop down and start to fan yourself, sweat rolling down the back of your neck courtesy of Massachusetts’ residual summer heat and your extreme cardio session. Clearly you’d been too sedentary over the summer.

Squinting against the sun, you scan for Draco. He’s quite easy to spot with his light hair and pitch black broom. The Horned Serpent Captain, Travis, seems to be testing for a good keeper, having one person throw the quaffle while someone defends the goal posts while everyone else hovers off to the side. Draco is leaning on his broom, looking bored. From this distance, he probably won’t even notice you.

Ugh, should’ve just stayed with Ms. Bell, you think. Or gone back to the dorm… I have that stupid wandwork practical this week.

Draco’s practically falling asleep on his broom out there. You watch his tiny form, his hair moving in the blissful breeze that’s also drying your sweat. The sound of people saying your name brings you out of your daydream about Draco’s hair.

“Y/N! Come down here!”

Below you, the large group of girls is beckoning you to join them where they’re sitting. A little reluctantly, you get up and walk down the sets of bleachers.

Some of them you recognize from your year, like Maddie and Ginger. The others look vaguely familiar, but their tan skin and brown hair that’s been permanently turned into glossy sheets from daily Sleekeazy potion use blend together, and you feel like you’ve run into a group of identical octuplets.

You focus on Maddie and Ginger, the ones you do know. “Hi guys, how are you? Did you have a nice summer?”

“Mine was great! I went to work everyday with my aunt at the MACUSA, like an intern,” Maddie says. “New York is soooo crazy– tons of muggles!”

“I bet.”

“Mine was nice, thanks for asking,” Ginger says appreciatively. “How was yours? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Ginger returning your question does not go unnoticed by you. “Mine was nice, too. And yeah, I guess it’s been a little over a year, huh?”

“Ooh, that’s right!” Maddie says. “Where did you go again?”

“Hogwarts. England.”

The unnamed clones all Ooh the same Ooh. “Was it fun? Different?” One asks.

You shrug. “It was a lot of fun. It was a great experience.”

“Okay, we’re so glad you’re here because we have a question,” another girl jumps in, wasting no time now that the formalities are past. “That guy, with the white-blonde hair, you know him right? What’s his name?”

“I’ve seen him sit with your friends at meals and I know y’all are in the same house,” another adds rapidly. “He’s from Hogwarts, too, right?”

“Super dreamy, look at those arms,” says a third, and a few others hum in agreement.

For a moment, you feel furious that all these girls had been drooling over Draco while you’d been visiting with Ms. Bell. It quickly dissipates, however. A cavalier sense of satisfaction fills your chest at getting to say, “that’s Draco. He’s my boyfriend.”

They all gasp in unison. “You’re kidding me,” Maddie says, in a tone that kind of makes you think she’s not joking and actually hopes you are.

“How did you manage to snag that, Y/N?” The first girl asks.

“Pretty much acted like I hated him for four months straight.” You decide to play dumb at their obvious digs, but you’re starting to regret giving any of them the time of day.

“Wow, and it worked?”

“If I had a guy like that after me, I don’t think I’d waste any time.”

“Well, I didn't really. He didn’t like me much either,” you grind out.

For the rest of tryouts, you try to tune out their babbling. Eventually they move on from Draco to another player, then another. You feel gross being an accessory to their objectifications, but Ginger at least tries to ask you a more normal question every now and then.

As soon as Travis is finished with his assessments, you bolt from your place on the bleachers and down to the rail that surrounds the Quidditch green. Draco catches your eye and walks over.

“And here I thought you were going to skip,” he says, watching you jump the rail to land on the grass.

“Oh, no, it was interesting.” You wrap your arms around his waist, looking up at him. His hair still looks nice and windswept. “Can you do me a favor and kiss me?”

Draco cocks and eyebrow, but swings his broom around to rest on your lower back, pulling you closer. “Sounds suspicious. Why?”

“No reason,” you giggle as you lean in. You divulge yourself in running your fingers through his hair, and relish in the sound of girlish squealing coming from high up in the bleachers.

Draco pulls away after a few seconds and turns to look, but you push his jaw back towards you with a finger. “Don’t.”

“Y/N, what the bloody hell are you getting me into?”

“Nothing!” You chime, wriggling out of his grasp and hopping the rail again. “See you back in the dorms,” you say with a parting wink.

Draco throws up his hands in exasperation. You fight the urge to look back up at the bleachers as you walk away, and consequently miss the Thunderbirds coming out for their tryouts with Alex on the other side of the field, James among them.

◈◈◈

A/N: i hope I can start updating this more frequently again. and I know the index has said nine chapters for a while now, but i’m pretty sure i’m bumping up to ten. love you guys and thanks for sticking with me <3

#the ilvermorny exchange #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x you #hp fanfic

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imherongraystairstrash · 4 years

Text

Wessa baby Part 1

A/N: Thank you @daisyherxndale for recommending this!! I’ll post part 2 a bit later today. This story takes place about two years before Chog. I hope you enjoy!

Tessa was trying to read, but her thoughts were clearly elsewhere. She found herself reading the same sentence over and over again as her mind rattled with mixed emotions. Was she happy? Yes, she was over the moon. But was she allowed to? Would Will be happy? Or would he be distraught? Maybe she was just worrying too much. She put her hand on her abdomen.

However inconvenient it might have been, Tessa Gray was pregnant. Tessa Gray was pregnant with a third, completely unexpected, child.

By the time Will came into the room, Tessa had long abandoned her book. There was no point in trying to read about characters’ struggles, when all you could think about were your own misfortunes.

Tessa didn’t even notice him coming in until he was kneeling in front of her.

“Tess? You look like you’ve aged fifty years since the last time I saw you.” Concern was etched across his face.

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“No, literally, you changed.” Will said, referring to her shapeshifting. “Are you feeling alright?”

Tessa held a hand up to her face. Of course. Whenever Tessa got pregnant, her warlock magic went haywire.

She forced herself to change back into her normal self, now understanding why she had felt a bit winded before. She blinked and looked back down at Will.

“I’m fine, Will.”

Will gave her a face that said he knew she was lying to him.

Tessa bit her lip. Now’s as good a time as ever to tell him. Will deserved to know. Besides, it might take some weight off shoulders.

She drew him in her arms and kissed his forehead. She held his face in her hands and looked into his deep blue eyes, seeing herself reflected in them.

“Whatever is matter, sweet Tess?” Will said, turning his face to kiss her palm.

“Will, I’m expecting.”

Will’s eyes widened, almost comedically, as he stared at Tessa, looked down at her stomach, and then back at Tessa.

“Tess, that’s…”

“Horrible?”

“NO! No, Tess, it’s wonderful.” he said, kissing her and resting his forehead against hers. “I was going to say unexpected, but anything that’s part you, even if it’s only half, is a blessing.”

Tessa felt her vision getting blurry. Will wiped a tear from her face.

“And anything that’s half me, is a blessing to the Earth.” He continued.

Tessa laughed and dug her face into his neck.

“My sweet Tess, I’m so happy we created something so wonderful.”

“Me too.” Tessa said.

...

Will was reading a book while stroking James’ hair, absentmindedly. Jamie had his head rested on his papa’s shoulder and was reading along side him. It was A Tale of Two Cities, a book they had both read many times, though they still seem enthralled by it, as though it were the first time they were reading it. Meanwhile, Lucie and Tessa talked about the new baby.

“Have you picked out a name yet?” Lucie asked.

“We were thinking of Ella, in honor of Will’s sister.”

Will looked up at the mention of his name, completely oblivious to the conversation the girls were having. Tessa waved him off as to say he could go back to reading.

“So, she needs a middle name.” said Lucie, tapping out a inconsistent pattern on Tessa’s belly.

“Well, she doesn’t need a middle na—” Tessa looked over at Lucie who she giving her puppy eyes. “Why? Did you have one in mind?”

Lucie looked up at her, enthusiastically. “You can name her after another book character, like you did with me!”

Tessa laughed, “Which one were you thinking of?”

Lucie sat up, practically unable to keep still.

“Elizabeth! After Lizzie Bennet!”

Will looked up from his book. “I like that one, Lulu.”

Tessa smiled. She didn’t remember ever having told Lucie that her mother’s name was Elizabeth; she did not have a strong memory of her as she died when Tessa was merely three years old. And yet, it seemed fitting to name her unborn daughter after the women who never got to meet her mother. The women who did not get a chance to raise her own daughter.

“I love it, Luce.”

Lucie, clearly proud of herself, sandwiched herself once more in-between James and Tessa. Tessa kissed her temple and ran her knuckles over Lucie’s cheek. She caught Will’s eye over their son and daughter’s heads. He smiled warmly at her and reached out to hold her hand. She placed it in his and he rubbed circles into her palm.

…

“Me first!” Lucie whisper-yelled as she pushed James out of the way. James stumbled at the sudden impact and would have fallen, had he not grabbed the couch in front of him and steadied himself. Without a second glance at her brother, Lucie plopped down beside Will ready to hold her new baby sister.

Will carefully handed over the baby. Lucie smiled and cooed at Ella.

“Hello,” she whispered. “I’m Lucie, your favorite sibling.”

“Hey!” said James.

Lucie ignored him. “Has she opened her eyes?”

“Not yet,” said Tessa.

She inherited Will’s dark hair, but she had yet to wake up and see the world.

“Can I hold her now?”

“No, Jamie,” said Lucie, “being the klutz you are, you’ll drop her.”

“Lucie, honey, Jamie will be careful. He should be able to hold Ella as well.”

Lucie grumbled and turned towards Ella. “I apologize greatly for abandoning you, and leaving you to succumb to the evil clutches of Cruel Prince James, my sweet sister— oh, that would make a wonderful line for a new chapter of The Beautiful Cordelia.” Lucie looked at James. “Alright, you can hold her, but only because I have been in a writer’s block for months, and I just had a wonderful idea.”

She was about to give Ella over to James, before pulling away.

“Don’t even think about turning into a shadow once I hand her over.”

“Why would I do that?!”

“Because you are sketchy. And unpredictable. And just of being replaced as my favorite sibling.”

“I was your only sibling.”

“Exactly. That’s the only reason you were my favorite sibling.”

“Lucie!”

“Mam, Lu’s hurting my feelings.” James said, humoring her.

Finally, Lucie handed Ella over to James and got her pen and paper. She peered over at Jamie holding baby Ella while she wrote.

It was sweet to watch a smile stretch across James’ face as he looked down at Ella and bounced her lightly. James, who was always solemn, even as a child. The contrast between both Lucie and James’ personality was like white against black. Tessa couldn’t help but wonder what shape Ella’s personality might take when she grow older. She was also worried that Ella would grow lonely, as both of her siblings were quite grown, and were likely to have moved out of the institute by the time she turned five.

Tessa forced her concentration on something else. She’d long given up on trying to fix things that were out of her control. She often found it to do more harm than good. Besides, Ella is not truly alone; she’ll have her cousin Alexander to keep her company. Who knows, maybe they’ll become parabatai.

“Mam,” James said.

Tessa looked up.

“She’s got your eyes.”

The whole family leaned in closer, as Ella scanned her surroundings. They were, in fact, the same shade of gray as Tessa’s eyes.

“She’s a perfect hybrid!” Lucie said.

Tessa put her head on Will’s shoulder, perfectly content on enjoying this moment with her family.

#tessa gray #will herondale #tessa herondale #lucie herondale #james herondale #wessa #wessa fanfic #wessa fanfiction #wessa baby #tsc #tsc fanfic #tsc fanfiction #tid fanfic #tlh fanfic #wessa au #tlh au #tlh au fanfiction

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gloves94 · 3 years

Text

To Be So Lonely [Draco Malfoy] 29

Rating: M Pairings: Draco Malfoy/OC Chapter warnings: None

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

MY MASTER-LIST

The authentic Alastor Moody watched in his night robes. He sat on the floor at the edge of the inside of the wooden chest. The man sat with his arms crossed over his chest. The only thing probably worse than being unwillingly locked inside of a trunk was being locked inside of a trunk with a teenager.

An angry one at that.

He then watched the student run against the wall with a rageful scream and tackle it down with her shoulder. She slid down the wall painfully heaving before rising, stumbling back, and trying again. He guessed her shoulder was probably wounded by now, if not a couple of strikes away from being dislocated.

“Give it up, kid,” He called from his corner. “It’s useless. The only way out is in,” He said pessimistically.

“I’m not giving up!” She grunted with pain. “I’m not giving up. I’m getting out of here-“ She heaved furiously, looking up at the unending darkness above the two. “There has to be another way out…” She said more to herself.

“Who-“ Her dark eyes moved from a nonexistent exit back to the Auror’s. “Who was that? If you’re Moody then, who-?” she was frustrated at her loss of words.

“Barty Crouch Jr.,” Alastor sat up and uncrossed his arms. He would’ve walked if he could, but Crouch had his leg. “Most unpleasant slimeball. Scum of the scum that walks this Earth. Death Eater and loyal to You-Know-Who until the end. Caught me slippin’ in my retirement,” Moody finished his sentence by cursing words Nel hadn’t even heard before. The trunk was pitch black. She couldn’t see just how filthy the man was with unkempt hair and a growing beard from being locked in here so long.

He also couldn’t distinguish the features of the Slytherin.

If he could’ve been immediately able to distinguish just who he was in the room with.

“And what do they want with you?” He asked gruffly.

“The hell should I know. I’m just an orphan.”

If he could’ve seen the constellation in her face in the shape of Ophiuchus, he would’ve immediately known just who was locked inside of the trunk with him.

Harry Potter sat in the office of Professor Alastor Moody, crying. He was alone processing the events of the Third Task of the Tournament.

Cedric was dead.

Voldemort was back.

Nel was missing.

Probably dead too.

He had seen Cedric’s life flash before his eyes. The Dark Lord had touched him. Cursed his blood to be shared between the two. Everything had gone to hell. He pinched the bridge of his nose and remove his glasses to wipe his tears from his swollen eyes.

His head jolted up when Moody’s door slammed behind him as he entered the room. Startled, he looked at the Professor.

In the same room, inside of the chest, the missing student attentively listened to the conversation that Harry and Barty Crouch Jr. were having. It sounded muffled and distant. Words were inaudible beyond recognition, but the voices were clear.

“That sounds…” Nel said, pressing her ear against the wall. “It’s Moody-“ She looked back at the miserable man slumped in the corner. His silhouette was barely recognizable in the darkness. “Well- not you- and that’s- That’s got to be Harry!” She exclaimed.

“HELP!” She shouted at the top of her lungs. “HELP!” She screamed at the top of her lungs. So loud her throat ached.

“It’s useless,” Moody grumbled.

“It’s not,” She croaked, keeping her eyes on the darkness above her. There had to be a way out. Most charmed objects have a way in or out in case their casters become trapped inside of them, but how would she get out without her wand?

“HELP!” She shouted desperately. Feeling the wall, she could feel the leather interior and, burying her nails into it attempted to climb it.

“Even if you do climb it, you’ll never get out. There’s a second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and Merlin knows how many more trunks.” The retired Auror explained.

“I don’t care,” She spat, continuing to attempt her climb.

“I’ll claw through the walls if I have to,” She said determinedly.

Climbing two steps up, she lost her grip and collapsed on the floor.

“Told ya,” Moody said snidely.

“I don’t care!” She shouted angrily, removing one of her shoes and tossing it against the wall. “I won’t let them get away with it!” She heaved, holding her other shoe in her hand. “I prefer death to whatever it is they’ll do to us.”

Holding the loafer in her hands, she looked at it intensely and focused. She needed something to climb to the top. She focused all of her energy on the old shoe. Closing her eyes, almost squashing it between her hands, moody looked at her oddly. Without a wand, it was harder to channel magic, but it wasn’t impossible.

A popping sound inside the barrel and an identical copy of the shoe appeared out of thin air.

Then another.

And another.

Followed by several more.

“What did you do?” Moody pressed his back against the wall as he heard the popping sound in the room and the thud the shoes would make when dropping to the ground.

“Uh-,” Nel stepped back, almost tripping over one of the hundreds of shoes on the ground. “I-I think I messed up,” She said, struggling as the shoes reached up to her knees.

“What did you do?!” Moody screamed in horror as he prepared to drown in a sea of multiplying shoes.

“I wanted to turn the shoe into a ladder, but I think I-“ She stumbled, trying to reach for the older man.

“Gemino Curse? You stupid girl!” He clung to her shoulder and hoisted himself up. “We will suffocate!”

Meanwhile outside.

“Harry, get away from there!” Dumbledore said, pushing Harry behind him and the other Hogwarts professors.

Moody and Nel were pressed up against the ceiling, slowly being crushed by the mountains of shoes.

“Out of all things you could multiply- you chose a pair of smelly shoes?” Moody grimaced at the way he was going out. Out of all the ways to die, this was probably the most undignified one.

“I thought I could climb the laced up!”

Just then, a bright light spilled into the inside of the trunk. Dozens of shoes spilled out of it, followed by a brown-haired teenager and the real and the Alastor Moody.

“Ms. Saintday! Alastor! Are you alright?” Dumbledore asked, stepping back.

Professor Snape stepped forward and picked up his student by the upper arm, pushing her behind him. With one quick look, the Slytherin determined she was shaken but otherwise looked unharmed. His glare was scolding, but there was some relief in his brown eyes.

“I’m sorry, Albus,” Mad-Eye lamented, dropping his head. “I’m just glad to be out of that hellish place.”

“Ms. Saintday,” McGonagall rushed to the student and took her face in her hold hands. “Are you alright?” She asked kindly.

Dumbledore kept his eye on Moody. Snape held his wand raised and pointed at the impostor.

The young Slytherin nodded weakly and, looking past the Gryffindor professor, seethed when looking at the disfigured man that was once again morphing into somebody else across the room. Crouch twitched relentlessly, making strange noises as he did. Nel didn’t even hear what Harry said to her when he stood beside her.

The impostor’s eyepiece fell to the wooden floor and continued to twitch in every direction as Barty Crouch Junior revealed himself.

“Seems like we now know who’s been raiding your pantry for Polyjuice potion, Severus,” Dumbledore said.

“Son of a bitch,” Moody coughed. “Caught me off-guard.” The man pressed his back against the chest as he sat on the edge of the room.

Crouch reminded Elowen of a snake. A slithering creature with a darting tongue who hissed when threatened.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” He said, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a skull and snake marking on his arm. The man began cackling. The mark on his arm danced, and its dark pigment shined in the dim light.

“The Dark Mark.”

‘What was that horrible thing?’

Harry flinched, bringing a hand to his forehead at the immediate pain he felt. He didn’t need to have this explained. It was his mark. He felt the same pain he had as when Voldemort had laid his hand on him.

“Your arm Harry,” Dumbledore reached for the Chosen One’s arm. Looking down at her arm. Elowen felt the need to hide it. Crouch had sliced her arm in the same place where he had the mark. She didn’t want to know what type of ill omen this was.

“You know what this means don’t you?” Crouch began. His lip curled into a malicious sneer. “He’s back,” He flipped a hair from his forehead. “Lord Voldemort has returned.”

His words rang loudly, and the air in the room suddenly felt heavy at the horrid revelation. Crouch’s beady eyes focused on the girl’s.

“And he’s come back for what’s rightful his,” he threatened.

Nel flinched, shrinking slightly. Without a second thought, Snape stood between the two, blocking sight of his student. From behind, Moody looked at the girl’s dirty face. He thought he could recognize a peculiar curse mark on her features.

“You took me!” Elowen sidestepped around Snape. “You locked me up!” Boldly or very foolishly, the girl stepped towards the man. Professor McGonagall held her back, failing as the girl slipped from her gentle grip. Harry’s reach and grasp was stronger as he held her back with his hands on her shoulders. “Both you and Ellar Lestrange!” She shook Harry’s grip off. Dumbledore observed the scene. His twinkling eyes were waiting for something unexpected to happen anything. Regardless the Headmaster did not move.

“The two of you assaulted, attacked and… then you,” She grew silent. Unaware of the vile intentions the two men held.

Crouch cackled madly, and the Slytherin felt her anger begin to boil. She wanted to hurt Crouch. She wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt her. Tie him to a chair, stand above him and terrify him until he pissed himself. Maybe set him on fire.

The feeling of being powerless. Elowen felt as if she’d hit a wall. She was powerless against him, against the Lestranges, and against Cordelia Wool.

It was humiliating. Harry’s grip loosened around his friend, and he gave her an odd look.

“Lestrange?” McGonagall asked.

“Bastard,” Mad-Eye cough. It didn’t matter which one she was referring to. All the Lestranges were equally rotten in his eyes. Pureblood scum.

“Yes,” Nel answered quickly. “Ellar Lestrange,” She wanted them to know his name. “Former student. He killed Simon Kominsky. He’s been in on the plan with Crouch the whole time.”

Dumbledore didn’t question her this time.

“Send an owl to Azkaban,” He said to McGonagall. “I think they’ll find they’re missing a prisoner or two.”

Instead of looking intimidated, Crouch beamed with pride. “I’ll be welcomed back like a hero.” He grinned, cherishing the moment.

“Pucker up, Barty. Dementors will be thrilled to see you,” Moody called.

Crouch seemed unfazed at Moody’s threat, and this filled Nel with rage. The son of a bitch even though he was above the law and death. Perhaps she didn’t have her magic, but she would always have her muscle.

“Not if I can help it!” She lunched forward, ready to bite, claw and strike Crouch. However, McGonagall pulled her back from the arm, scolding her. “Ms. Saintday!” She said, horrified. “Come along with me, Elowen,” She said to the barefoot teen. “We’ve got to take you to Madame Pomfrey at once,” She said, trying to usher her out of the room.

Crouch laughed loudly. “Ah! Go on, dead girl, strike me,” He cried out.

The Slytherin protested, looking over her shoulder. “I’m fine!” She raised her voice. “Completely and utterly fine!”

“Dead girl?” Moody said to himself, turning. He looked at Dumbledore oddly as the pieces all aligned in his head. Moody instantly knew just what was happening and who this child was. The only thing he couldn’t figure out was just what in the world was Albus planning...

Nel wanted to meet Snape’s eyes, but instead, the Professor lingered behind, stabbing his wand into Crouch’s twisted face. Hatred was reflected on the Slytherin’s eyes as he looked down at the vermin he was threading on. Moody remained behind.

Outside McGonagall wrapped an arm around the student’s shoulders as she led her away. She didn’t take her rudeness personally. The girl was clearly in a state of shock. Minerva was just relieved the situation hadn’t escalated. Losing one student in one day was one thing, but two?

Dumbledore exited the room with Harry. The Gryffindor looked over his shoulder, hoping that his friend would be looking back at him instead, her eyes were glued to the floor, and she walked in small steps as Professor McGonagall guided her to the Hospital Room.

Nel hadn’t thought of how long she had been gone. McGonagall looked overly concerned. Her eyebrows were turned up in worry. The Professor let out a small breath of relief as they made their way downstairs.

“Oh, Elowen. We were all so worried,” She spoke as she picked up her pace. “After what happened to that poor boy, we all thought you…” The Professor went silent.

“Thought what?” Nel asked sharply, looking at her concerned expression. She still couldn’t believe they had allowed this to happen. She had been missing for a day, or who knows how many hours, and nobody had come looking for her. Oh, but Harry. She thought bitterly. Looking back, the only reason they had found her, and Moody was probably because Harry was in a room and in danger. If he hadn’t been there… Only the stars know what would’ve happened. Looking over her shoulder, she realized Harry and Dumbledore were gone.

‘Fuck, if Harry went missing for a minute, the world would probably end.’

“Well,” McGonagall began with discomfort. “We thought you’d been killed dear,” she said gravely.

Elowen had no reaction to this. Yes, Ellar had killed people before. She had gotten really lucky this time. However, Simon hadn’t been that lucky…

“Maybe Simon can find some peace now,” She muttered absentmindedly thinking the older witch had been referring to the ghost in the Quidditch field.

She felt great relief after having confessed about Ellar’s abuse. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. This was grave enough, and she had heard what Dumbledore had said about Azkaban. This time consequences would be severe. There was no way the rat-faced git would be able to lawyer his way out of this one.

The two were walking by the Great Hall, nearing the Hospital room at this point. Who knew what time it was. It was night. The castle was dark except for the few torches that lit the school corridors.

“Nel,” The Professor began slowly, acknowledging her preferred name. She slowed down the pace to a halt. The Slytherin looked at her with confusion. She had never seen the Professor look so hesitant before speaking. Minerva measured her words with scrutiny and care. “There has been an accident,” She wanted to say. However, Cedric Diggory’s death had been no accident. McGonagall didn’t think the two had a relationship. Still, these things had to be handled carefully.

She placed a soft touch on the girl’s shoulder before delivering the hard news. “Cedric Diggory has passed,” she spoke in a gentle tone.

Nel’s dark eyes narrowed with further confusion. She then let out a small laugh. “Passed what?” She asked, perplexed, eyes lighting with excitement. She had even forgotten about the Triwizard Tournament. “Did he pass the final task? Did he win the Tournament?”

Or did Harry win? He hadn’t looked very elated when she saw him only a few moments ago. What had he even been doing in Moody’s office?

“No.” This time Professor McGonagall reached for both of her hands. She held them in hers and patted one lightly, “Dear, Cedric is dead.”

Nel was in denial. The news didn’t sink. Maybe she didn’t want them to. She pretended not to see the defeated look on McGonagall’s eyes or the somber edge to her voice. “Yeah, dead tired, I bet,” She smiled a little, hoping the Professor would return the gesture.

She didn’t.

Instead, the Professor continued. Nel’s face began breaking, her chin quivering, nostrils beginning to flare. Her stomach dropped, and she suddenly felt cold.

It wasn’t true.

It couldn’t be true.

“Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort.”

It was the last day of school.

Startled, twitching awake, Nel sat up, her vision still blurry as everything that happened the previous day came rushing back to her.

“You’re awake,” She ignored the voice.

She was in the hospital room. She could still remember the conversation she had had with Professor McGonagall just a few hours ago. Fragments and pieces of memories from the night before in which the Professor consoled her about Cedric’s death. Nel cried until the point where she couldn’t speak anymore, and Madame Pomfrey gave her a sleeping draught.

She let out a whimper and brought both of her hands up to bury her face into. Her eyes felt crusty. They were swollen and dry, and her nostrils were scratchy.

“I’m sorry,” The voice spoke again. Lowering her hands after a moment, she turned to face Harry, who was sitting at the foot of her bed in the Hospital Room. His head was lowered, tone was low with sorrow.

The Slytherin climbed on her knees and hugged them, shrinking to the opposite side of the bed. She noticed she had been changed into a pair of her old striped pajamas. They were worn and old, with tattered holes on the sleeves. Not that any of that mattered at the moment.

“I can’t believe he’s gone,” She let out a dry sob.

Professor McGonagall had explained to her what had happened in the Third Task of the Tournament. She had also explained that Harry had been the only witness to the crime. “I can’t believe-“ Her voice faded again, breaking into a high pitch.

“Please tell me he didn’t suffer Harry,” She looked at her hands. Harry looked at her heartbroken expression. “Please!” She cried out to him.

“He didn’t,” Harry was quick to answer. It was almost rehearsed. It was something he couldn’t possibly know. No matter how many people asked him, Harry wouldn’t go into detail. He wouldn’t talk about Voldemort or about what had transpired in the graveyard. Even the room looked darker, grayer with the foul weather of the day.

“Is there…” Nel cleared her raspy throat. “Do you know if there’s a spell to bring people back from the dead?”

As far as Harry knew, there wasn’t. It was one of the first rules of magic. Once you’re dead, well, you’re dead. Unless you become a ghost. He never had entirely understood how that worked. Then again, he reasoned not many wizards did either. “Not that I know of,” he answered, sniffling and wiping the tip of his nose. If he did, bet his parents would be with him today.

Both shared a long silence. Harry in mourning. Nel wondering if she could contact the dead with a Ouija Board.

“He spoke of you,” Harry said, breaking the silence.

“What?” She froze, stopping her dead crying.

“He said he was expecting his most loyal servant to deliver you to him,” Harry wanted to say. “I think something went wrong with their plan,” he reasoned, alluding to Crouch and Lestrange’s plan. ‘Oh, he meant Voldemort. Not Cedric.’

“Ellar was trying to get me to follow him into the maze,” Nel sighed. The worst part was that if he had played his cards right. If he had dedicated himself to wooing her and keeping her tightly wrapped around her finger from the beginning, she would’ve followed him to the ends of the world. She hated herself for that.

“That’s where the portkey was,” Harry explained. “The one that took us to the graveyard.”

Everything was making sense now. That’s what the Lestrange’s had been planning all year long. However, the question still lingered. Why would the Lord of Death care for a nobody like Nel?

However, there was one person who knew the answer and would tell.

“Harry, I need to see him,” She squeaked, leaning forward. Reaching out to him and holding on to his sleeve tightly. Up this close, she could some of the wounds from the previous day.

“Who?” Harry asked, confused.

“Sirius,” She clarified. Nel had a feeling Snape knew more than he was letting on, but for some reason, the old bat was withholding information from her, and there was no way he was cracking any time soon. “Please,” She pleaded with Harry. She could’ve begged him to let her see and or speak to Sirius Black.

Harry could see the desperation in her eyes.

“I’ve been trying not to think about it, but I can’t stop thinking about it,” her voice broke as her eyes began to water once again. “I need to know why that man wants me. I need to know who I am,” She let out a shaky breath. “I need to know what they did to me. Why they did it. Why?” Her grip tightened.

Harry was supposed to deny the whereabouts or even the fact he had any communication with his godfather. “I’ll see what I can do,” he agreed.

She didn’t hesitate in lunging her arms around him, holding him in a thankful embrace. She buried her face on his shoulder. As per usual, Harry couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by the gesture.

Unknowing to the two, a pair of silver eyes watched bitterly from the Hospital Wing entrance. The Slytherin’s hands balled into fists at what he considered to be the horrifying scene he was witnessing. Of course, it had to be Potter.

Nel’s eyes turned to Draco, who remained composed despite his wild jealousy churning and internally nagging at him.

However, his composure was short-lived.

“You’re a dead man, Potter!” Draco stormed in, whipping his wand out.

Harry raised his in defense. Nel pulled away from Harry unbothered. Malfoy was the least of her problems right now. Harry cleared his throat, his face a little red at the girl’s gesture.

“Malfoy!” Nel exclaimed, shooting deathly daggers at the boy. She spoke to him the way you would speak to a dog when you want him to behave.

Draco was angry. Of course, Potter gets to show off and win the Tournament, Potter catches Barty Crouch Jr. in the act and has him sent to Azkaban, and then he makes a move on his girl?

It wasn’t going to happen. Not on his watch.

Harry then remembered he had seen Mr. Malfoy at the graveyard. Groveling as one of Voldemort’s most loyal servants. He couldn’t stand the sight of Malfoy. Who knew just how much Draco knew about the incident. “I have to go,” Harry said and shot a menacing look in Malfoy’s direction. Harry’s green eyes had turned into slits. That slimy weasel and his cowardly father, both would be troublesome. Draco was involved in all of this. Harry had to be careful with whatever he trusted Elowen with, considering how close the two Slytherins were. Did she know his family was on Voldemort’s side?

“You better watch it, Malfoy,” Harry spat. It was a threat. This time Harry didn’t stand back awkwardly. He seethed in newfound anger, not removing his eyes from Draco’s silver ones.

“What is your problem, Draco?” She confronted angrily once Harry left.

This was the last thing she needed at the moment. Another useless fight. It was a waste of time.

Harry looked back at his friend, and she nodded that it was okay to leave, so he left, but not before shooting Draco one last glare. Nel looked in between the two, confused. Had she missed something?

Harry looked back to see Malfoy walking stiffly to stand beside the girl’s hospital bed.

He was dressed in a black suit and straight black pants. Neatly groomed. His cologne announced his arrival before his presence. It looked more like he was going to a business meeting than to visit a friend at the hospital.

Draco was silent. He was still angry. He gave her a stern look and couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth and speak to her.

He wasn’t the person she wanted to see right now. Especially not after the tantrum he had just thrown. The only thing she cared about was seeing Sirius Black, talking to him, getting to the bottom of this horrible nightmare, and maybe finding a way to see Cedric again.

Draco remained quiet. Little did Nel know about the raging storm that was happening in his head and about everything he had done for her before coming here.

Trying to control her emotions, she wiped her face, took a deep breath, and brushed all of her brown hair out of her swollen face with her fingers.

“Came to mooch off my gifts?” She offered sarcastically, barely looking back at the little flowers and candies next to her bed.

He didn’t say a word.

This was uncharacteristic of him. You usually hated Malfoy for opening his mouth, not for remaining so oddly silent. “You can have some if you like,” She motioned towards them, hoping he would crack. Had he just come here to stare at her? He almost looked sick. What was his problem? Why was he acting so weird?

“Not the lemon pastries, but anything else really. I mean, I’m not going to eat-“ She babbled nervously at his loud silence not bearing his quietness. Anxiety got the best of her as she toyed with the bedsheets, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious. She was in her most disgusting pajamas. Draco slept in fresh silk while she slept in something even a moth wouldn’t chew on. It was something that made her feel ashamed and embarrassed.

Draco opened his mouth to speak, and the silence in the room felt more remarkable after he spoke. The fact the two were alone in the suffocating room with the palpable tension was painful.

She really wished he had given her some sort of warning before opening his mouth.

“I fancy you,” he admitted boldly.

His hands inside his pockets. Eyes steady as he kept his fixed gaze on her shocked one. She remained silent at his confession. Her expression was unreadable.

Now it was her turn to grow silent.

She lowered her head in embarrassment and continued to anxiously fidget with the sheets on the bed, suddenly wanting to hide under them and vanish. In a cleverer state, she would’ve pretended to faint just to avoid the awkwardness that was to follow.

God, this was so awkward, so painful. She flashbacked to what Daphne had suggested. She had been right. She flashbacked to the Yule Ball to all of the years of torture she had endured just so that he could have her attention. She also thought about those rare moments the two shared together. Draco could be nice, he could be a friend, he was sort of handsome, but then again- She looked at the childish way he had just stormed in and threatened Harry. The way he could be so demanding and selfish was a turn off. Besides, it would never work out between the two. His parents would never approve of her or her socioeconomic status. Even less when they were most likely planning on delivering her to the Dark Lord like Ellar had been.

“As in, I like you.” He elaborated on his emotion. “As more than friends.”

What if this is what it was all about?

Since Ellar had failed in his task of delivering her to Lord Voldemort, it had fallen on Draco to do so. Could that be it?

But how did she feel about him? She turned away from him, her dry eyes beginning to sting. She hoped he wouldn’t notice.

Draco was in turmoil. Malfoy Sr. Had always taught his son ‘Nobody says no to a Malfoy,’ and if someone did, he had insisted never to take no for an answer. Here, Draco had a feeling he had met somebody that would say no to a Malfoy.

“I don’t like you” she avoided his stung expression.

Despite her rejection, he remained standing tall, unwavering. Either he didn’t believe her, or as he had been taught, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“So,” he began appearing calm. “What are we going to do about it?” He attempted to negotiate.

“We?” She looked at him in horrific surprise. In his head they were already together. We, as in collective, as in us. As in Us vs. Them. A fat tear slid down her face. Why was he saying this to her? Was he toying with her?

Perhaps, Ellar was right, and he really was just playing with her. Draco’s family was well known for fraternizing with You-Know-Who, and after what had happened with that psychopath— what if he was just the same? Could she really trust him?

What if all of this time, he had also been trying to manipulate her. Open wounds from Ellar’s emotional abuse suddenly stung as fear made her act out aggressively.

“There is no we, there is no us. You have tortured me for the last four almost five years, and you expect me to fancy you-“ She spat at him livid before letting out a rueful laugh. Nel didn’t know what came over her - perhaps it had been all of these years of pent-up rage. Maybe it was the fear, stress, and loss of the last twenty-four hours.

“How- “ She demanded to know where his emotions stemmed from, “Why?”

Why on Earth would somebody like him look at someone like her?

He had so much to lose with this attraction – she, on the other hand, had nothing.

Malfoy visibly flinched at the harshness of her tone. His hostile walls slowly beginning to build up once again.

“You know why,” he said quietly, almost with remorse.

“No. I can’t for the life of me figure that one out.”

She couldn’t trust him.

“I know you. I see you,” he insisted.

“No, you don’t,” She retorted, eyes welling with angry tears for what seemed to be like the hundred time in the day. If there was one thing Malfoy was good at was making her cry. He seemed to be an expert at it, not even struggling to manage to drain canals of tears from her sorrowful eyes.

Malfoy started to become just as frustrated. Leaning forward, he grabbed both of her arms, and she inched backward, away from him; instead, he pulled her towards him and held her tightly, dropping his body on the bed sitting next to her.

“I know you better than anybody else. Don’t deny it. I’ve seen parts of you they haven’t seen. The good, the bad, and especially the ugly,” He said, shooting her a look. She avoided meeting his eyes. Nel knew that if she looked at him, she would cave, and she can’t. She refuses to.

Reaching for her face, he turned her hoping she’d look at him, but her gaze remained lowered. Nel looked hurt, wounded, with tears welled in her glassy eyes.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on her face.

“I can’t trust you,” She admitted weakly in an icy tone that made her own heart twist. She wanted to trust him, but couldn’t find herself willing to do it.

Despite everything, he had been told and taught. Draco accepted the rejection. He let go of her and leaned back, sitting at the edge of the bed at the foot with wounded pride.

He didn’t even move when he heard the loud screaming and rushed footsteps entering the hospital wing.

“Nel!” It was Tracey and Daphne both didn’t seem to care that Draco was there. Both were too concerned with their friend to acknowledge that she did not look pleased to see them. The two Slytherins were crying. The tension between the blonde and the brunette could be cut and sliced with a dull knife.

The girls immediately tackled their friend into a hug, one from each side, cradling her body and stroking her hair.

“We’re so glad’ you’re okay!”

“God, we were worried sick!”

Draco inconspicuously stood up and lingered by the end of the bed. He scratched the tip of his nose. Still taking in her rejection before walking away without a word of goodbye.

“Merlin. After what happened to Cedric- we didn’t know if you- if you!” Tracey’s voice broke as she hugged her best friend tightly, burying her tears into her shoulder.

“We’re just glad you’re okay,” Daphne said, genuinely sounding relieved.

Tracey and Daphne pulled away and exchanged eye contact. Both wondered why their friend remained silent. Still shocked by Malfoy’s confession.

“We’re also really sorry for what we did,” Tracey was the first to apologize.

“For what I did,” Daphne stressed. “I shouldn’t have told. I’m really sorry. We really are knob heads.” Daphne bombarded as she profusely apologized. “I’m just glad the Lestranges are all going to be locked away in Azkaban now.”

Boom. Another bomb dropped.

“What?” She didn’t realize her voice was so dry. It cracked when she opened her mouth, crying out like a rusty squeezebox.

“After everything he did to you and Crouch’s confession, the Ministry, the Ministry of Magic, is investigated and trying Ellar Lestrange for the possible murder of Sulk- of Simon—- they took him to Azkaban that same day where he waits for trial,” Daphne explained. “And his mother-“ Tracey arched her eyebrows.

“There was an anonymous tip to the Ministry of Dark Artifacts found in the Lestrange household and of her unwavering support to You-Know-Who. Their home was raided some time ago. Since the Ministry is on edge because of what happened yesterday, and his mother was taken to Azkaban. There she also waits for trial.”

Nel was paralyzed by the news. Her eyes looked in between her friends and focused on Malfoy’s back as he walked out of the room.

It had been him.

She had no evidence. No way of proving it, but she knew he had done this.

Draco exited out of it the room.

Daphne looked back at him. “Didn’t - didn’t Draco mention it?” She asked, just as confused, also turning to look at his retreating back.

“He was so worried,” Tracey added. “I don’t think I had ever seen him like that,” Daphne admitted. “He even went as far as getting his father involved. Hogwarts almost shut down!” Tracey exclaimed.

“I don’t think I saw him eat either,” Daphne said. “Theodore said he didn’t return to the dormitory last night.”

“Hogwarts would’ve probably shut down if we hadn’t found you. One student in the Tournament - well, there are risks involved, but another taken and disappeared?” She reasoned.

Draco had done all that? She couldn’t believe it. “Even gave us quite a mouthful-“

Nel had stopped listening at this point. He even tried to fix things between her and her friends? It was then that she remembered. Yesterday at the Quidditch arena. That’s exactly what he had been doing. He did everything he promised he would do. He got rid of Cloelia, he took care of Lestrange, he even mended her friendship with the other Slytherins. Maybe he really did care about her.

Both Tracey and Daphne looked confused as the barefoot girl leaped out of her bed and ran outside of the hospital room. She was so focused on finding the blond she didn’t even acknowledge Theodore who was walking in holding a bouquet of flowers. Several gasps could be heard as she crossed the school. Whispering too. It was the girl that had been taking. The girl that could talk to snakes. Slytherin’s heir. The girl that did school favor’s for pay. She probably looked ridiculous running around the school in her pajamas. She was heaving by the time she turned down the corridor and spotted him in the distance headed towards the Slytherin Common Room. She saw his blonde head descend down the stairs. Without warning with remorseful tears, she ran towards him, her feet patting against the floor before she threw her arms and embraced him from behind.

He remained still, unmoving, and could feel her face burrow into his back. She held him tightly, tighter than she had probably ever held anyone in her life, as she cried. Her hands squeezed his torso tightly.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized. Her voice sounded weak, almost like a squeak.

She took in his scent, the way his jacket felt, the way he stood so stiffly.

His hand reached for hers and curled around her fingers. Despite it, he did not turn for her. She held his hand back, and their fingers intertwined.

“I know.”

She hadn’t even considered his feelings. After everything, he had done for her.

Maybe she could trust him. Maybe they could make things work. Maybe she liked the way he smelled. Maybe she thought he was more than sort of handsome. Maybe she liked spending time with him. Maybe she genuinely liked him when he wasn’t being a royal prick.

Maybe, just maybe she could fancy the Slytherin back as much as he fancied her.

“Draco,” She said his name.

Letting go of him, he turned around still standing in the stairs with an intrigued expression and looked at her. He hadn’t let go of her hand. She had been more than clear with her rejection. Draco was close to snapping and harshly demanding if she had returned to further humiliate him. However, the dazed look on her face told him otherwise. Stepping up a stair, grabbing the lapel of his black suit jacket, she pulled him in and kissed him.

END of YEAR 4

AN: Woooooo this year was so long. I can’t believe we are through The Goblet of Fire. Funfact this was actually the first scene I imagined.

Thank you so much for everybody that takes the time to message me. It means a lot. I’m glad you’re enjoying the story. I know it’s a very – erm – different story than the others. I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned it before, but I always found it very interesting how Harry, despite all of his abuse and suffering, always chose kindness. I wanted to play with a character that did the opposite and was the antithesis of that.

Thank you, Happy Valentine’s Day <3 Much Love, - G

Any predictions or theories for Year 5? ;)

8 notes · View notes

purplebass · 4 years

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Pain & Pleasure: Chapter 3 A Jordelia Fic

I haven’t forgotten about this Jordelia fic, y’all! Is just I’ve been busy with finals and I could write one shots. I have a few ideas on how to continue this FF, so expect more updates in the following days. Hope you enjoy! 💜

Couple: Cordelia Carstairs and James Herondale, Jordelia Rating: T Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

Cordelia was beyond excited in the cab. She was sitting next to James, who seemed nervous himself, and she was playing with her hands. She was eager to see her father again after they had been separated for months. She had fantasized a lot about the moment when she would be able to embrace him again and check he was all in one piece. She loved her father, but she also knew more things about him that she didn’t accept but that she could still come to terms with to some degree. She decided she would ask Elias about what Alastair told her, hoping that her father would not lie to her. She was sick of being lied to, because she wasn’t a little girl anymore. Of course, that had to wait, since she didn’t want to harass her father on the first day of his semi-freedom.

“What’s wrong, Cordelia?” Matthew inquired at some point, his head tilted to the side and his eyes brimming with sincere curiosity. She had caught him staring at her during the trip, and she didn’t know how to interpret his stares. She liked Matthew, of course, he was one delightful person to spend her time with, but she also knew that she had to keep the appearances with James and she tried not to see too much into Math’s kind and subtle attentions towards her.

“I’m just thinking about my father,” she replied, twisting her hands in her lap. Damn, she had to stop.

“Are you excited to see him again?” James asked. He was covered in darkness because they were passing under a bridge not touched by natural light. It was one of the paths that took to the Silent City, and she could say that every time she went there, it was a surprise because the journey wasn’t the same all the time.

Cordelia couldn’t help but nod, but didn’t add more on the matter, as the carriage was invaded again by the bright glow of the sun of the first hours of the morning. She had to shield her eyes and grip on the door handle so she wouldn’t fall, because the vehicle had just taken a bumpy road and was aggravating her already unbroken tension.

After a few minutes, the cab came to a halt in front of a big dark entrance with no door. Cordelia felt like this was different from the last time, but didn’t care at the moment, because what mattered the most to her was that she was there, and that she was about to meet her father.

She didn’t wait for Matthew or James and she scurried out of the carriage without help. It was a miracle she didn’t fall on her face, but she wouldn’t have cared if she did embarrass herself like that. There was a Silent Brother waiting at the threshold of the barely lit tunnel which conducted inside, because they had been expecting them. It wasn’t James’ uncle Jem, who was also her cousin Jem, but one of the Brothers Cordelia had seen several times, Brother Enoch.

Come this way, please. He told the three of them, and they kept silent, the restlessness in the air was heavy, and it seemed James and Matthew were equally agitated as she was, as if their emotions were in tune. Was this what parabatai felt? She wondered if she and Lucie would also feel the same, but that wasn’t the right time to reflect on that. Her father was the priority.

They descended level after level and it seemed like her father was held far and far down the Silent City, which worried Cordelia, because there was only one thing in the Silent City’s undergrounds. The prison, where the Brothers kept the criminals but also held people who had committed small crimes. Her father had been accused of a grave crime in the shadowhunters’ world, and she wasn’t surprised that he had been taken there. Yet, one part of her wished that he wouldn’t receive this treatment, especially since they were releasing him because the Clave decided his case needed to be set over for trial. And Matthew told her he needed to be examined, so she expected to find him somewhere else, in the infirmary, perhaps.

This was getting insane, but she didn’t dare to ask questions because she feared the answers she would receive. After several minutes, if not an hour of descending, they stopped in front of a large grated door. Two Brothers stood by its sides and one of them spoke to Brother Enoch, then he opened the gate and let them pass.

Cordelia started shaking. She didn’t know what triggered her jittery state, perhaps once she passed the threshold which separated the jail of the Silent City from the rest of the place, she was hit with the realization that her father had really let some of his fellow shadowhunters get hurt because of his carelessness and he deserved to be there, because he…

She felt her legs gave out and she didn’t realize that she had just gasped aloud until she felt a warm hand taking her trembling one and keeping her steady. Cordelia bit her lip and she drew blood. She felt its bitter taste on her tongue, but she didn’t feel the need to spit it because it helped her keep her sane and attached to reality, to that moment.

She gazed at her hand and then at the person whose hand belonged to.

“It’s okay, Daisy. You’re not alone,” James told her in a soft tone, almost sweet. He was concerned, even if he didn’t let it show.

Cordelia managed a small grin and steadied herself as Brother Enoch came to a stop in front of a small cell. She didn’t dare to look inside at first, fearing that she would not like what she’d see. But then she thought that she had missed her father terribly, and that was what mattered, that he was there.

“Father,” Cordelia murmured, trying to get Elias’ attention. He was sitting on a wooden bench positioned next to the largest wall of the cell, his head bent down.

He glanced up when she heard her voice, and he smiled. Then, after a few seconds, she saw his expression turn hostile, almost irritated that she was there. “Cordelia, what you doing here? I thought I sent a message to your brother,” he said gravely. “Why isn’t he here?”

Cordelia felt that question like a slap on the face, but tried to keep her composure. “Alastair couldn’t come. He said that he was required somewhere, or something,” she explained Elias, who didn’t seem convinced by her words. “And mama can’t come because of the baby, that’s why I am here.” I thought you also wanted to see me, she wanted to add, but she held her tongue.

“He’s never available when you need him,” Elias commented, appalled. She hated when someone criticized her brother, when this time he really didn’t do anything wrong. The way her father addressed Alastair irked her. Coming from him, those were empty words.

“Like I said, he couldn’t come, that’s why I’m here. I came to take you home, father. Don’t you want to come home?”

Elias sighed and hurried towards the gate of the cell. “You have no idea, Cordelia. Aren’t you going to let me go, no face?” he asked Brother Enoch, who stayed by her side all the time, even if she didn’t realize it. The Silent Brothers were soundless.

You are granted bail, Elias Carstairs, Brother Enoch told him. But this doesn’t mean that you can do as you please. We’ll get in touch in two weeks.

“Damn, I can’t even leave in peace,” Elias muttered as the Brother opened his cell. Cordelia hurried towards her father to help him out of there, since she saw he was limping. He linked his arm in hers so that she could help him walk, but before they exited the cell, the door closed.

She saw Brother Enoch being thrown on the nearest wall, as if something invisible had struck him. Matthew rushed to him while James took several weapons from his belt to prepare to attack the demon that had probably done, but no one appeared. Even if that was impossible, since demons could not enter the Silent City.

“Matthew, can you see it?” James asked, glancing around to see if something had moved. Meanwhile, Brother Enoch had rose to his feet again and other Brothers came to the scene.

“I don’t see anything, James,” Matthew replied. When his eyes fixed on the jail cell, he realized that Cordelia and Elias were locked in. “Who closed the door, Cordelia?”

Cordelia was about to answer him when she felt her father move beside her. She thought perhaps he wanted to try to open the door of the cell, but then he turned his body abruptly towards her and his hands went on her back, on Cortana. Maybe he wants to use the sword to open the cell? Cordelia thought, but instead of using the weapon to smash the iron, he threw the sword on the cold stony floor, and much to Cordelia’s surprise, his hands went around her neck and squeezed. Hard.

She stared at her father’s blue eyes, the same eyes who were so dear to her, as he seemed numb and lost somewhere but at the same time, he was confident in what he was doing. Those eyes were vacant, which scared Cordelia, but she didn’t have time to think.

Cordelia felt his cold hands grip on her throat as you would clutch the neck of a chicken when you wanted to kill it. Not that she had ever tried, of course, but in that moment, she felt like she was helpless just like that chicken, except her executioner was her own father.

She used her hands to force his imposing hands away from her, but Elias’ grip was too strong that she felt powerless, she felt like clay in his hands. She could have fetched Cortana, but the gold sword was too far, until she fell on the floor without warning and she hit her cheek on the humid pavement of the cell. She didn’t know what happened, but at least she felt the air slowly refilling her lungs. At least her father’s hands were not on her neck anymore. James appeared by her side and checked her head for wounds, and she wondered if they had opened the door.

“I can’t see blood, Cordelia. Does it hurt somewhere?”

Cordelia was speechless, but she shook her head. “What… what…” she tried to say, but she still felt the shock from the lack of air and she couldn’t form coherent words.

She realized that James put her head on his legs and was caressing her cheek as her eyes started closing. Why were they closing now? She wanted to know what had happened, but the last she heard before everything faded to black was James’ voice as he told her: “Sleep, my Daisy. You’re safe.”

#jordelia #james herondale #cordelia carstairs #james and cordelia #the last hours #matthew fairchild #elias carstairs #chain of gold #tlh #cog2 #chain of iron #chain of thorns #james x cordelia #cordelia x james #my edits #my writing #the shadowhunter chronicles #tweety writes

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thefandomlesbian · 4 years

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Not same anon who asked you but I'd like to hear about the plausible foxxay headcanons and the hilarious ones

There’s some overlap here and a few different universes so bear with me, these do not all exist on the same plane!

-blind!Cordelia: Misty opposes the use of all cosmetic products both for feminism and for animal rights, but she knows Cordelia is concerned about the appearance of her face. She applies Cordelia’s makeup for her before special events.

-blind!Cordelia: See above but with shaving.

-blind!Cordelia: Misty makes a concentrated effort to organize things in a way that will help Cordelia find them, including arranging things in a clock face and telling her at which numbers she’ll find things.

-Cordelia’s favorite activity is brushing and caring for Misty’s hair. Misty gets tired of it and chops it all off once. She prefers it this way for the convenience, but Cordelia is so sad that she lets it grow back and never touches it again.

-Misty didn’t graduate high school. She tries to keep this a secret from Cordelia, but it eventually comes out when Miss Robicheaux’s is being certified as a school in the state, which requires all of the teachers to hold degrees and licenses, and Cordelia asks for Misty’s diploma.

-In fact, Misty is very insecure about her intelligence compared to Cordelia, and she tries to go out of her way to learn facts to impress her. This usually backfires. (Cordelia: I love to read, Catcher in the Rye is my favorite book! // Misty: Oh, really, mine too! // Cordelia: Awesome! What’s your favorite part? // Misty: When he... caught the rye...)

-That said, Cordelia doesn’t have the survival skills of a koala bear. During their trips in the swamp, Misty teaches her how to determine safe blackwater from tainted polluted water, which plants are safe to harvest and eat, and how to coexist with a great number of animals, including a venomous snake that likes to take shelter under Misty’s roof and a family of Louisiana bears Misty keeps an eye on to protect.

-Misty isn’t very good at following potion recipes, but Cordelia finds out she has a great deal of potions she’s been making herself for years that she invented. She drafts all of these and adds them to the tomes of other potions invented and perfected by famous witches of the past.

-After Misty has to write a formal letter to an executive on the state board of education, Cordelia proofreads it for her and discovers it’s nearly illegible. Misty complains that all of the letters look the same so she has to sound out the words the best she can, but she wasn’t patient enough to check every red squiggle, and some of the words were so badly misspelled that even Microsoft couldn’t help her out. Cordelia switches the font on her document to Comic Sans, which greatly benefits her. This is how they discover that Misty has dyslexia.

-Cordelia helps Misty get her GED, and they play to her strengths as a teacher. She teaches hands-on technical classes.

-Misty is too impatient to ever share Cordelia’s love for books, though she does partake when Cordelia reads some of her favorite stories aloud to her. However, Misty does learn to like poetry, and she loves to write silly, stupid love poems in odd places for Cordelia to find them.

-Occasionally, someone who is not Cordelia finds one of these poems, leading to coven-wide disagreements and scuffles about who has the secret admirer.

-Misty is the oldest of seven and grew up raising her younger siblings for her mother, who was very detached. One of her sisters reappears in her life, occasionally needing a babysitter for her infant. While Misty has a disdain for children, she is a firm believer in “You do for family” so she does it, expecting Cordelia will help her.

-In Cordelia’s defense--she TRIES. But she was an only child and never had any opportunity to be around babies, and they don’t teach you how to take care of a baby before you have one. She’s terrible at it. She mixes the formula wrong, she puts on the diaper wrong, she throws the baby out with the bathwater. Meanwhile, Misty “babies are stinky and loud and dumb” Day has the domestic skills of a mother of fifteen. Misty teaches Cordelia a lot about infant care.

-They leave the baby asleep in the Pack n Play and go to bed. Cordelia wakes up to find the baby floating through the air. In a panic, they hastily assemble baby restraints and work out a way to break the news to Misty’s sister that she has a magic baby.

-Misty’s sister accepts it rather graciously. Misty helps her build a lid to put on the crib so the baby doesn’t float out in the middle of the night and get hurt.

-Cordelia doesn’t actually like to go hiking as much as Misty does, but she loves the way Misty looks when she finds rare plants and flowers and animals. She loves the way Misty radiates joy when she’s out in nature, at peace. So Cordelia steps out of her introverted tendencies and allows Misty to take her hiking everywhere. They try to find a famous hiking attraction somewhere out of state at least twice a year and make a vacation of it.

-Misty is a vegetarian. Cordelia cooks to her taste. The rest of the coven suffers.

-Once, Cordelia cajoles Misty into wearing makeup to a very high-bar occasion. Misty breaks out into hives. They learn she has severe skin allergies. Cordelia never contradicts Misty’s opposition to cosmetics again.

-Except with sunscreen. Misty is a country gal who says, “If I get the melanoma, I get the melanoma,” and Cordelia chases her around the house with a bottle of Coppertone spraying freely to try to protect her before they go on outdoor excursions.

-Cordelia hates bugs. Misty hates bugspray. They compromise by inventing a salve that repels the bugs. They go down in the tomes as co-creators.

-Cordelia sometimes uses big words that Misty doesn’t understand. Misty buys vocabulary books and downloads apps to try to teach herself more words. She does learn the words, but she often mispronounces them. Cordelia never corrects her.

-Misty and Madison are both very close friends and rivals. When they argue, Cordelia is never really sure what’s going on. She learns to say, “I have to side with my wife,” whenever they get into it. Sometimes, after Misty explains to her, she realizes Madison was in the right--very rarely--but she never says this to either of them. She has more important fish to fry, and she trusts Madison to get her own revenge.

-Misty. Tops.

-Misty is pretty good at being assertive. Cordelia is terrible at it. It takes them awhile to find a pattern for them that works out where Cordelia isn’t the doormat all the time. Eventually, she is comfortable enough with Misty that she can practice being assertive with her for other situations.

-Misty has mild vaginismus.

-In spite of how their relationship ended, Cordelia struggles with complicated grief surrounding Hank’s death. This is Misty’s sorest point; she isn’t very good at supporting Cordelia during these times, as she can’t forgive the man who hurt Cordelia so badly and slaughtered so many witches. Misty tries her best, but sometimes they wind up arguing.

... Okay, this is long at this point and @rabexxpaulson is gonna be upset if I don’t get back and answer our next one-shot soon, so I’m gonna cut it off here. If you’d like expansion on anything (or god forbid, more) please let me know. <3

#sarah paulson #lily rabe #misty day #cordelia goode #raulson #cordelia foxx #goodeday #foxxay #ask #headcanons #my writing

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hecohansen31 · 5 years

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(alternative storyline) "She is going to leave me one day" That's what Michael thinks all the time, even when his gf is kissing him, telling him that she loves him. Because his Grandma left, his parents left, Miss Mead left when he decided to join the Coven, his father left when he rejected his path, the warlocks left when they discovered that he was not the Alpha, so even if he doesnt want it and she swears she will never, Michael is sure that she will leave him. Poor baby needs reassurance...

(A/N): Hello there, lovely!

I really hope you’ll enjoy this!

I had quite the fun, creating the picture of Headmaster Michael Langdon and fellow Headmaster Reader (so if you know... like this piece, please send me more ideas about these two, probably a cooler moodboard will be out soon, because they are my love...) so I hope you’ll enjoy it!

As always, I am a bit slower with asks, mostly because university started, I am probably going to edit my book and watch maybe “AHS 1984″, so bear with me!

Sending you much love babe!

WARNINGS: AU Ending (Michael Lives and Allies with the Witches) Sexual Themes and Mentions of Sex.

When you had met Michael Langdon, you hadn’t expected him to be shell of the man he was rumored to be.

Abandoned by his beloved mother and his Father, after he had chosen to lead the witches and join the Coven as Cordelia’s second in command and with the passing of time and decaying of the poor witch as the following Supreme, whereas you had been set up as Hawthorne following headmaster to recreate order between the two schools.

You had expected a tormented soul, certainly, not a shell of a man.

He certainly wasn’t weak, and he had impeccable manners gently and elegantly preparing tea and holding your hand, meanwhile he guided you through a particular narrow angle or when he had shaken it after he had let you go back to Hawthorne.

He was elegant and polished, extremely fashionable in the choice of his clothes, but he looked like he did everything mechanically, as if he didn’t taste anything that was offered to him by life.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit sad for the extremely nostalgic and charming man, captivated by his sadness and melancholy, which spoke of heartbreak and delusion and once you had been invited over at Robinchaux (these events were more common, although you didn’t understand if it was because Langdon truly enjoyed your presence, or students from Robinchaux kept on trying to set the two of you up) you had asked him what had made him choose to go against the choice of his loved ones.

“If you have to uphold some kind of bargain with your “loved ones”, it isn’t something which is worth living…” he had spoken as if it was the most natural thing ever, meanwhile he twirled elegantly a glass full of wine in his hands “… I wanted to be free and uncontrolled, even if it meant losing everything and everyone”.

And you desperately understood him: for all your life you hadn’t been able to do anything more than what people had asked of you, and it had taken quite the strain on your mind and on your physique, and now that you had somehow gained your freedom, it still hurt you.

You were still in chains somehow.

“… what about you?” you had been surprised and had immediately raised your head from your own glass, just to meet too swiftly his elegant eyes, contained storm in his eye “… why did you choose this life?”.

“I was thrust into it” you mumbled sadly “… but I am trying to do my best to make it seem more similar to my ideal job”.

Michael had then raised his glass at her as if to say “cheers to our unhappy lives”.

That night you had fallen in each other’s arms for the first time, being swept onto Michael’s bed, and kept there with tender caresses and bold touches, till the man himself fell asleep on your exhausted body and you kept him against you, holding him close to your heart.

The following morning you had tried to push him away from your chest, thinking it was simply a one-night stand, just to be brought closer to him a half-asleep “don’t let me go” had been mumbled, muffled by the pillow, before he had turned on one side, spooning her gently.

And you hadn’t been able to let him go.

Things like tis became a common recurrence between you two: the evening you would meet each other, dine together and the night you would spend it knowing each other in the most carnal way and the morning you would spend it in each other’s presence, sometimes tangled together and sometimes checking out your own documents or working together.

“You act as a married couple” had mumbled once John Henry, after he had caught glimpse of those private times.

“We are not a couple” you had mumbled, pushing your robe onto your pajama-clad body.

“Oh sure” had mumbled your most trusted friend, before he had gone on his own way, leaving you with too many doubts, and wondering whether you should have confronted Michael about it or just kept quiet, ending up with the decision to act on whatever was brewing in your chest, just if Michael did first.

You had been blocked in this impasse for quite a bit and you had ended up being the one to make the first move, more accidentally than not, leaving around what had been a draft of the discourse you wanted to try to give him.

It was just a draft and when you had found Michael reading it, you had gotten quite the heart attack.

“Please tell me that you didn’t read it…”.

“Did you compare my hair to the girl from “Tangled”?” he had asked, smiling at you sarcastically, and somehow you felt it was suddenly so easy to breath.

“It’s called poetry” you had mumbled, coming to sit onto his lap, meanwhile he hugged you closer.

“I love you, too”.

And from there on your relationship hadn’t been exactly perfect, but it had been much easier than you had thought, bringing you happiness and joy and a faithful and extraordinary partner in crime.

But although you couldn’t have been more in love with Michael… he still harbored some doubts toward you.

Not exactly on you as a person, but he towards the possibility of you staying forever with him, he had been shown so many times that people, who were supposed to love him and cherish him, didn’t care about him truly and it was so easy for them to abandon him.

That’s why he pushed you closer to his chest, meanwhile you pushed yourself away from his comforting warmth, needing to get yourself together for a meeting, but Michael kept trying to keep you in his arms desperately.

You pushed his silky shirt over your shoulder, after having collected it from the ground, to shield your body from the coldness, meanwhile you leaned down to kiss his forehead, smothering him with kisses, because apparently tough and apathetic Michael Langdon, the Antichrist, liked any kind of affection.

And you tried to bath him with as much as you could, so that you could make the parting less hurtful.

“… I love you” you mumbled straight onto his plump and swollen lips, meanwhile he gently entwinned his fingers together with yours, at the slow rhythm of the kiss, before he pushed you against him again, overpowering you and moving himself over you, attentive not to hurt you “… but I have a meeting!”.

“Tell them some stupid excuse” he replied, sinfully mapping your neck with his lips, meanwhile his fingers disappeared under the cover, and you had to close immediately your legs to avoid any further distraction.

“I already did, Michael” and you felt his pout in the crook of your neck “… last time, but this time, I need to go”.

He gave up his attempt to keep you longer in the bed, although he huffed loudly clearly displeased with your choice and you leaned closer, giving him a soft kiss and remembering him that you would have soon come back.

“I know…” in those times, when Michael acted like a baby, you couldn’t help but find yourself totally fascinated and with your heart open for him “… but I just… I am scared that one day you wouldn’t come back”.

“Why would I do such thing?” you replied genuinely, truly not believing that Michael could be scared of such thing, when you loved him so so much.

“It is just…” and in that moment you understood that he was being extremely vulnerable and brought yourself closer to him “… everyone leaves”.

“I didn’t think that I was “everyone” to you Michael “ not because you were superior or anything, but you were definitely not a simple acquaintance in Michael’s life and you hoped that somehow, whatever linked you together, was stronger.

“It isn’t you the problem” and he softly distorted his eyes from you “… it is me: I am the fucking Antichrist! I am a monster! Practically unlovable”.

And he pushed himself away from you, suddenly becoming that shell of a man you had met and this time it was you who came closer to him, pushing yourself to straddle him, hooking your fingers under his chin to make him look at you.

“First of all, Mr Langdon, you can’t be a meanie towards yourself, or I’ll have to fight you, since I am your protector…” this got a little giggle from him “… and second of all, what makes you unlovable? I don’t think that the Antichrist fact has ever made me feel less intensely for you”.

He tried to escape your grip, but you brought him back to stare at your eyes.

“People left you, not because of who you are, but because of who they were” and you gently leaned to kiss his lips “… I am not going to leave you, Michael, not now nor ever”.

And he just blushed, a bit comforted and you hugged him closer.

“I am sorry, it’s just sometimes…” you kissed his forehead softly, encouraging him to speak “… I need a bit of reassurance”

#michael langdon #michael langdon reader #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon blurb #michael langdon drabble #michael langdon imagine #outpost michael #AU ending #Headmaster Michael AU #Headmaster Reader #michael langdon one shot #michael langdon oneshot #michael langdon fanfic #michael langdon smut #michael langdon fluff #michael langdon fem reader #michael langdon x fem! reader

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