[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

reblog if you love archive of our own and how they firmly refuse to let censorship have any place on their platform

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

ao3 turns 16 today.

reblog if you’re older than archive of our own

[sonforest-blog]

И в догонку

Nightmare

Favourite villain

[fanonical]

the best doctor who episode for the master is the five doctors, where the master is sent by the time lords to help the doctor, gets thoroughly rejected, then spends the rest of the serial running around making alliances with and betraying the cybermen, presumably just because he can

[fadedkat]

you liked me yesterday...

[innocet]

Crazy how, because Matt Lucas wanted to come back to dr who after his Christmas special bit role, there’s a full season of the show where the doctor has an honest-to-god Henchman on top of his usual companion. And it rules. Like Nardole is NOT a character who’s supposed to be working with the good guys he is such an “on it boss” little guy who’s serving the morally dubious at best. Me when I inherit a henchman after my girlboss wife dies

[innocet]

Target demographic

[the-tardis-is-blue]

An addition: this is made even more hilarious by the fact that the Doctor just barely puts up with him. Me when I inherit a henchman after my girlboss wife dies and then have to sneak around behind his back because he's so dedicated to his job he won't let me slack off anymore and it's honestly a little annoying. But I can't get rid of him because did I mention he used to hang around with my girlboss wife. No I haven't grown at all fond of him shut up he's ANNOYING.

[donutdrawsthings]

I think it would mean a lot to Kate Stewart to meet the Doctor who ultimately started her father's UNIT journey. Because of Timey Wimey stuff she can't tell him who she is of course, but she can still show some thanks.

Bonus:

I like to imagine since Donna works for UNIT now, she likes to ask Kate along for lunch occasionally. And I also think 14 wouldn't hear the END of it once she finds out about Jamie.

[starspork]

Honestly if I was the Master, and I heard that my shitty on again off again, best enemy, love of my life, kept offering the same “travel the stars with me forever” deal to like THREE DIFFERENT ENTITIES AT THIS POINT! I would feel it in my bones across space and time, wake up with a cold sweat, set aside any plans of domination of the Earth again because it’s not fast enough, find his ass and beat the shit out of him because I THOUGHT WE HAD SOMETHING SPECIAL YOU TWO BIT WHORE

[timelordian-disaster-126]

*starts maniacally laughing and immediately starts sobbing right after* I felt evil today and I'm deciding to start a new project (that I may or may not finish) but here's this part till I finish the rest <3

[nitronine]

Imagining if the Dr who fan characters in this episode were hardcore EU fans and they keep bringing up shit that makes the doctor incredibly uncomfortable

[transstuffandmore]

Please Reblog is Your Blog is Safe for Non-Binary People.

[bees-and-voids-deactivated20210]

If my mutuals can’t rb this then we can’t be mutuals

[dinofromspac3]

Time Lords get Sick too

Clara Oswald x Time Lord!Reader

Summary: Being a Time Lord, Y/n didn’t tend to sleep, so when their girlfriend, Clara, finds them in their room on the TARDIS fast asleep she worries.

Third person, they/them pronouns, 11th Doctor makes an appearance

Fluff.

Clara woke up on her own, this morning. That never happened. Mornings on the TARDIS usually began with her partner, Y/N, waking her up by jumping on her and attacking her with kisses.

But not this morning.

Clara went looking for Y/N, confused and concerned about why this morning was different. She found them in their room, curled up in a pile of blankets, fast asleep. At first, Clara couldn’t help but smile at the sight, but quickly that smile faded when she saw the sweat on Y/N’s brow and the troubled look on their face, like they were having bad dreams.

She went up to them, brushing some hair away from their face, and immediately she noticed how warm they felt. She had placed her hand on their forehead and Y/N jolted awake at the sensation of Clara’s cold skin.

“Shh shh,” she brushed her fingers through their hair. “It’s okay, it’s only me.”

“Clara?” Y/N questioned as they came to their senses. “What happened?”

Clara smiled empathetically. “You didn’t wake me up today. I came to find you,” she explained. “You’re burning up, Y/N/N.” She frowned, still running her fingers through their hair.

“Oh, am I?” They said confused, their brain still very clearly not fully awake. Clara frowned, and placed a loving kiss to their forehead. Y/N shivered pulling the blankets tighter around themself.

“Y/N/N, I think you might be sick,” she said softly. “I’m gonna go get the Doctor, stay here, okay?” Y/N just closed their eyes, and Clara knew they weren’t going anywhere at the moment.

~

A few minutes later, Clara came back with the Doctor. He kneeled down, next to Y/N and felt their forehead, waking them up again, as they had quickly fallen back to sleep since.

“Hey, hey you,” he cooed. “You’re in one hell of state.”

“Still not as bad as you, mate,” Y/N poked fun, making the Doctor chuckle quietly. Then he took out his screwdriver and did a quick scan. “So what’s the diagnosis, Doc?”

He looked at his screwdriver and read it’s results. “Ah, I thought as much.”

“What? What is it?” Clara wondered, a faint bit of worry in her voice. She’d never seen Y/N sleep before, and clearly they were sick. She didn’t know how bad it was, but the Doctor didn’t seem so worried, which eased her nerves a little bit.

“Don’t worry, Clara,” he turned to her with a smile. “It’s just a rough bit of Noctis Fever, essentially a time lord’s flu.” He tossed his screwdriver once in the air, and put it back in jacket. “Plenty of rest, and they’ll be back on their feet in no time.”

Clara smiled, sighing in relief at the news. “Oh, that’s a relief. I don’t know why, I didn’t realize time lords could get sick.”

“Of course we can,” the Doctor scoffed at the idea. “We’re not gods, Clara.” Then he smiled and gave Clara a pat on the head, before leaving the room. She sat down besides Y/N, and resumed stroking their hair as before. Y/N smiled at the contact, but still was shivering.

“Your hand is cold,” they said, quietly. Clara let out a soft breath of a laugh.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, tucking them into their blankets. “How about this, I’m going to go make you the classic, human remedy to all sicknesses, a nice warm bowl of soup. How does that sound?”

Y/N smiled, loving Clara even more in this moment. “That sounds nice,” they nodded.

“I’ll be right back,” Clara smiled again, and left for the kitchens.

~

Doctor Who Masterlist Main Masterlist

[multimilfs]

Alma Peregrine x Fem!Reader: Losses

Summary: You receive some jarring news and Alma knows how to get you feeling like yourself again. 

AO3

A/N: First of all, thank you all so much for 50+ followers! It means the world to me that so many of you enjoy my writing! I am so grateful for each and every one of you little lovelies. 

Second, I know this isn’t really what a lot of you are waiting on. I do see your requests and I love writing them, but at the end of the day I started this account for myself - because I love to write. So yes, I am writing your requests. But be patient. This account is for me above anyone else. All I ask is that you’re all kind with me while I get to them. I am only one person, after all. 

Warning(s): Talk of Sickness and Death

“Miss Y/N, there is a telephone call for you!” Bronwyn said excitedly.

You’d been helping Emma in the kitchen, cutting up vegetables for dinner when she had come running in. There was dirt on her hands from helping Fiona in the garden, so you knew one of the other children was holding the phone for you. You couldn’t help but wonder where Alma was. She’d never let Bronwyn, or any of the children, run around so messy.

Keep reading

[merci-bitch]

Her Lover

Alma LeFay Peregrine x fem!reader

Warnings: abuse, swearing, death, fluff, angst

Words: 5k

A/N: it’s been a while, hasn’t it. Lol. I’ve been having my exams and shit and I’ve been working on this for the longest time so I’m really sorry if there’s a word that’s not supposed to be there, I don’t really proof read. But hopefully more stuff shall be coming soon. Ta ta! Xx

Keep reading

[milfandh0ney]

I need some comfort to, so something with chessy cause I think she would be so nice after a hard day and maybe a bath together or some soft comfort sex

You Might Be Sleeping (nsfw)

Pairing: Chessy x reader

Summary: even though you and Chessy are broken up now, she’s the only one you trust enough to call

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, soft smut, mentions of roofies/druggings

Notes: idk what this is but I needed some comfort ?

People shove past you as you stumble out of the bar and into the cool night air. It isn’t cold enough to see your breath, but it’s cold enough for your hands to shake so badly that you can’t seem to get your phone out of your pocket.

Your stomach twists and turns so much that you have to stop walking, though you know you should keep going. The sidewalk looks like it’s spinning and no matter how many times you blink it doesn’t stay still. You lower yourself to what you think is the ground in hopes that if you pass out, at least you won’t hit your head too hard.

You’re vaguely aware of two things. One, you really need to call someone. Two, it might not be the chilly autumn air that’s making your whole arm tremble. The back of your head hits the brick wall as you close your eyes to steady yourself. After a few deep breaths, you try one more time to get your phone out of your pocket.

The mission is a success, but the screen swims in your vision and you can’t quite make out any letters or numbers. All you have to do is tap the phone icon then the name at the top of your Favorite’s list. It shouldn’t be this difficult. Closing one eye and bringing your phone close to your face, you’re able to successfully call the only person you trust to help you.

You squeeze your eyes closed again as it rings. When she doesn’t pick up after a few seconds you pull the phone from your ear and try to check the time behind squinting eyes. Just after one. She’s probably sleeping and she gets up early and you shouldn’t have called—

“We’re broken up. You’re not supposed to call me anymore. It’s against the rules. Unless it’s like a life-or-death situation, we're supposed to avoid each other whenever we can.” It’s meant as a joke and you know it, but you can’t help the sob that escapes you at her words. “Hon? What’s wrong?” She immediately goes into caregiver mode and you’re reminded why you fell in love with her in the first place. She picked up. She picked up.

“Chess,” you choke out between sobs. “I need you.” Your voice shakes more than your arm and she must hear it because you listen to the familiar creak of her bed and the jingling of her keys in the bowl by the front door.

There’s no sound for a moment then the slam of a door. “Where are you? I’m on my way.” You take a deep breath and listen closely to the noises on the other line. A car door and the engine turning over on her old pickup truck and the gears shifting and you pretend you’re there with her.

Once you’re feeling steadier, you try to open your eyes. It’s dark and the lights are too bright for you to make out any words on a nearby sign. “I was at Ronny’s bar but I had to get out of there and I walked…somewhere. I don’t know, I’m sorry.” Your crying starts back up again and your head sways. You’re getting dizzy and lightheaded and you need her to get to you fast.

The sound of Chessy’s turn signal, the steady clacking, intensifies your headache. “I know you didn’t call me because you got too drunk. What’s going on? What happened?” Her voice is gravelly with sleep and focusing on the familiarity of it helps you concentrate.

“I think he slipped something in my drink,” you quietly confess. You’re embarrassed. Your first date after the breakup and it goes so badly that you have to call your ex girlfriend to pick you up. But it’s not any old ex girlfriend, it’s Chessy. Sweet, kind, caring Chessy that will answer your middle of the night call and come running when you need her. It chokes you up, remembering what you lost. “Chess? I’m scared.” You feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears and it’s too loud and everything is too loud.

“I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you, I promise.” You clutch your knees to your chest and try to block out anything that isn’t Chessy’s voice over the phone. You have no clue where you are or if he followed you. He’s probably looking for you. “I’m almost there. I’ll be right there. Just listen to me talk okay?” There’s a slight wobble in her voice like she might be scared too but you’re too busy trying not to throw up to dwell on it.

A watery chuckle and a sniffle and a “Do you remember that time we went out into the vineyard after that rainstorm and we both slipped in the mud? Neither of us could get to our feet so we stayed on the ground and made out?” keep you from spiraling any further.

“Yeah and you had to wash our clothes like three times to get all of the mud out,” you smile slightly. That’s one of your happiest memories. One before things got tense and you started avoiding each other and everything fell apart.

She swallows so hard you can hear it through the phone. “Nick was so mad about the hole we made so close to his precious grapevines to realize what we were doing out there.” He had no idea why your faces turned bright red or why you had to bite your lip to hold yourself back from laughing. “Alright I’m here. Is there anything you can tell me to help me find you?”

Your head feels like it weighs a ton when you try to lift it from between your legs, groaning at the way it makes you even more nauseous. There’s footsteps approaching and a hand on your arm and you flinch away, thinking he’s found you again. “Relax, sweetheart, it’s just me. I’ve got you.” Instantly, you relax in her arms while she tries to stand you up. She found you and she’s here and you’re safe.

Chessy holds you tight to her while she walks you to the truck, your legs not willing to hold much of your weight at the moment. Before she helps you get into the passenger seat, she clutches you to her chest and cradles your head in a hug. “God, you scared me half to death, you know that?” You sniffle into her shoulder and take comfort in her arms.

She hoists you into the truck once you start to hiccup and sway worse than before. The few seconds it takes for Chessy to round the front of the vehicle to climb into her own seat leave you terrified again. A warm hand reaches out to rest on your leg while she drives, but it isn’t enough for you. You clutch her arm in yours, burrowing your face into her shoulder. You’re vaguely aware of Chessy’s voice talking to you during the drive though you aren’t sure what she’s saying. It’s enough that she’s there.

You spend the drive to the vineyard holding onto Chessy’s arm and trying to relax, knowing you’re safe. She parks the truck and leads you inside, sitting you on a kitchen stool while she fills a glass of water for you. “Drink up,” she urges, plopping your favorite straw into the cup. Warm hands rub your back in soothing circles while you sip.

The straw makes a slurping sound once the water is gone and Chessy ushers you into the bath. “You’ve been sitting on the dirty sidewalk, hon, you gotta wash that off.” She sits with you while you bathe, holding your hand when you aren’t using it to wash yourself. “I’m not going anywhere,” she says from her place near the tub.

She leaves out a pair of socks and one of her sweatshirts. It’s the one you would steal every time you stayed over and she would roll her eyes with a smile and pretend not to notice. Honestly, you briefly toyed with taking it one last time when you broke up. If you took it, you never would have taken it off. Chessy comes back into her bedroom with a bowl of crackers and a promise to watch your favorite movie if you eat them. You’re still nauseous, but you do it, if only to see her be proud of you again.

Cuddled up in her arms and in her bed, you finally feel at home. The sounds of your favorite Disney movie play in the background while you breathe into Chessy’s neck. Her chest rises and falls and her heartbeat is strong, but you need more of her. You tug on the hem of her top. “Do you think you can—will you?”

It takes her a second to stop stroking your hair and understand what you’re asking. “Sweetheart, you were roofied. I’m not gonna—,”

You shake your head, cutting her off. “I know, Chess, I just need your skin.” It makes your heart swell that she would immediately refuse anything she thinks you might regret the next day, but you’re not asking for sex. This is exactly why you love her and why you called her over anyone else.

Her blush is pretty as she sits up. “Oh. Yeah, of course.” She takes off her sleep shirt and you settle onto her chest. Her skin is warm under your fingertips where you absently trace lines over her collarbones.

None of this would have happened if Chessy had been there with you. Or if you were here with her. “Do you think we made the right choice?” Her hands pause on your back where they were massaging.

She clears her throat. “You mean breaking up?” In lieu of an answer, you nod into her neck. “Why? Do you regret it?”

You’re not sure you could be any more vulnerable than at this moment, so you go for it. “I miss you,” you whisper honestly. You haven’t gone a day without thinking about the woman.

Chessy pulls back to look at you. “Are you just saying that?” Part of you wants to scream at her that you can’t be just saying that when you’re pretty sure she’s the love of your life.

Instead, you search her eyes out. “I haven’t felt quite right since I last saw you. And tonight, you dropped everything for me and right here with you is the most at-home I’ve ever felt.” Your exhaustion from the day and the past few weeks catches up to you and you yawn.

Chessy presses a kiss to your hair and lifts the covers over your bodies. “You’re home now. Get some sleep.” You’re snoring before she can turn off the tv. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

-

You wake up feeling content, though you have a major headache. It strikes you as odd but you don't register why until you open your eyes.

You’re half on top of Chessy and she’s clutching you to her chest and you can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place. She’s perfect and you don’t—can’t—lose her again. The events of the night come back to you, how well she cared for you and loved you even though you haven’t spoken in weeks. Tears burn your eyes and you feel your throat constricting.

As if she senses your distress, Chessy blinks her eyes open. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?” The concern lacing her tone does nothing to make you less emotional, but god does it make you feel loved.

“I just never thought I’d get to wake up like this again.” The weight of the admittance pulls your tears down your face to be promptly wiped away by Chessy’s thumbs.

She smiles gently at you. “Me neither.” Her fingers reach for the ends of your hair to twirl around, needing to touch you how she used to. Chessy looks so pretty with her morning sleepy eyes and how in love she seems.

You swallow, suddenly nervous. You’re in bed with your ex and you’re still in love but where do you go from here? “Thank you. For coming to get me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I don’t know what I’ve been doing without you.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. That’s love.” That four letter word has you surging forward to kiss her. The last time you did that, you had run back up to where she stood at the edge of the driveway before you left. You two had just decided to break up and you were about to get in your car, but you couldn’t drive away without one last kiss. One last passionate, heated kiss. That time, you didn’t let yourself cry until it was over. This time, you’re crying before it ends.

Chessy’s fingers hold the back of your neck to keep you close, not willing to let you get too far away. Her tongue slips in your mouth and she knows all the right moves to make to have you putty in her arms. The feeling of her lips pressed to yours and her naked body under you gets you soaked before you can register what you’re doing.

She tugs on your hair gently to urge you to pull back. “Are you sure about this?” You’re sure that Chessy is safe and you trust her and you love her and you don’t want to do that whole breakup thing ever again and you could go on forever with what you’re sure of.

You can’t nod quickly enough. “Please? I need you,” your fingers hold her wrist and drag it down between your legs so she can see for herself just how much. She lets out a strangled moan and takes her hand back so she can flip your positions.

You whine at the loss of contact, tugging at her waist so she’ll connect your bodies again. “Shh I’ll take care of you.” She watches you while she lowers her face to your center and slides her hands up your torso to cup your breasts.

Wet heat from her tongue and from your dripping core meet and you know you won’t be able to last very long. It’s been too much time since she’s last done this and she knows your body like the back of her hand. Her tongue swirls deliciously around your clit while she removes one of her hands from pinching at your nipples to run through your folds and enter you gently. “I love you,” she says as she bends her head back down.

The memories of the night before and the past few weeks fade away leaving your mind full of Chessy and only Chessy. She feels you tense up and hover on the edge of coming undone for her, so she runs a soothing hand over your middle and presses it to your upper chest. The weight calms you down and grounds you enough to clear any wandering thoughts. “That’s it, just like that,” she coos. “Let go for me, I’ve got you.” You whimper and buck your hips into her, your hands tangling in her hair. “Look at me sweetheart,” she requests. “It’s me.”

It’s Chessy and you let her lap at your core eagerly until the vibration of one of her little moans pushes you over the edge and you cum for her. You clench around her fingers and rut your hips against her face. She doesn’t stop or slow down, needing the connection just as much as you do. It’s Chessy and you find one of her hands to hold and you’re not planning on letting her go.

x

[paulsonwifey-deactivated2023070]

First of all, love Sarah Paulson! And second, I love Gwendoline Christie so you have the perfect blog for me. Could I request a Larissa x witch!reader where reader has been Larissa’s friend since Nevermore (reader has always been in love with her but never said anything). When Laurel poisons Larissa, reader gets to her in time and since they specialize in healing people, reader tries their best to heal her but they push themselves too far in the process. Then when Larissa wakes up, Wednesday explains what happened and that reader is unconscious, but alive. And Larissa stays by their side and finally confesses while she thought reader is still unconscious. Basically angst with the happiest of happy endings. Thank you!!

Thank you so much for the prompt! I hope this is what you were looking for and of course there is gonna be a second part. I live for angsty things so this was incredibly exciting to write.

part two

Carry you

Your eyes go wide when you see her knees give in, she bends to the side, unable to stop the numbness in her body that doesn’t allow her to react, to say a single word of protest. The poison starts sliding quickly and Larissa feels it as her body stiffens, her breath quickens, her head gets fuzzy. Rage, worry, incredulity rush over you at what just presented before your eyes. Your powers start tingling, your fingers explode with the will to lash out all the energy you always guarded inside of you. Before reaching Larissa to the ground, you extend your arms and a vortex of energy makes the walls shake, the jars crush down, the windows break all together. A scream is what follows. Laurel is catapulted three meters away from Larissa; her body crashes with violence against a chest of drawers full of dusty, heavy books that, following the collision, fall upon her already weakened body, that’s now knocked down by electric shock. Wednesday, who has never really imagined you could be able to discharge such a power, opened her mouth in pure shock and silent admiration.

“Professor y/n?”, she says hesitantly, concern written in her dark orbits.

You take a quick glance at her, in order to reassure her. Larissa seems so feeble and weak, out of the blue. It’s so unlike her, you feel like trapped in a bubble. Your mind screams for her to get up. You know it wouldn’t have been that easy. Her chest rises and falls so quickly it makes your head spin. You wish to end Laurel’s life, but at the same time you can’t waste precious time dealing with her, when Larissa needs immediate care from you. “Larissa”, your knees slip on the ground next to her, your fingers, with extreme delicacy, touch the spot where she has been poisoned, slowly turning into a nasty shade of purple, second after second. She doesn’t respond to you, yet for a moment, her blue eyes meet yours and a thin smile grace upon her features. It’s like she feels reassured by your presence. It makes you smile too. A watery smile. “Hold on, okay? I’m here”, you say gently, chocking on your own tears. “You’re going to be alright”, it’s a promise you intend to keep, no matter the cost.

“Wednesday, hurry up! Come!”, you stretch your arm towards her, and she takes your hand, while the other is gently wrapped around Larissa’s one. A second after, you teleport the two of them out of the building, in a quieter place, so that you could take care of Larissa’s injury.

Once outside, you place Larissa’s head over your lap, gently stroking her hair while doing so. She is unconscious, yet her beautiful blue eyes open at times, only to close tightly a second after. You can tell she is fighting to stay alive, but after all, what else could you expect from her? She was a fighter, always have been. “Is she going to be alright?”, a thin tone comes out of Wednesday’s mouth. It’s the first time you hear her being so concerned. You know the girl has grown fond of Larissa, even if she could deny it till infinite times. It was impossible to not grow feelings for a woman of such dedication, kindness and intelligence. You were the witch, yet you felt Larissa was the one that had cast a spell on you.

You briefly look at her giving her a firm nod of your head. “I won’t let her shift away from me”, you mutter, gently stroking her now paler skin. She is sweating, and muttering incomprehensible words, and you hush her softly, telling her not to force herself to do anything. “Resist. I beg you, Larissa”.

You gently brush your lips against her forehead, feeling her temperature rise. “You hear me? Stay with me. I’ve got you”, your voice comes out weak and shaky, barely audible, yet your powers feel totally the opposite. Strong and determined as they have never been. You place your palms over her chest, immediately feeling the magic rushing from you towards her. It’s white magic, the one capable to heal, the most powerful only few witches can perform. This was for you the first time, since you never had to put all your energy to save someone hanging between life and death. You’d have never let Larissa die, not until you had used all the energy at your disposal. Your body begins tingling, your eyelids tremble and your heartbeat speeds as much as Larissa’s one.

Wednesday lightly furrows her brows, noticing the drop of dark blood sliding down your nostrils. She is concerned about you, yet she doesn’t dare to interrupt whatever you’re doing. You seem to be portraited in another world as focus on the act of healing. Closing your eyes, you see Larissa smiling down at you, her hand gently stroking your cheek, her voice whispering in your ear, making you shiver, making you laugh, making you feel alive. She is generous, funny and even playful, when she is around you. These things come back to you, giving you the strength to gather all the magic within you, to restore Larissa’s energy. “Come on, Larissa. Fight!”, you say, your voice comes out hoarse, yet it’s determined.

Wednesday is speechless when she looks down, noticing the poison getting out of the neck’s little cut, caused by the syringe. You feel your own temperature rise, your bones turn into jelly, and your vision alters. You let out a suffocated moan as you feel the air being stolen from your lungs, but you keep pushing and pushing. She is what matters to you. Larissa is too important to you. She’s your best friend, your family, the one that never turned her back to you. If she only knew how you felt in her regards. If she only knew what her presence did to you. But how could you be so selfish and ruin the bond that existed between the two, by telling her you loved her. You so deeply loved her that sometimes it pained you. “Please, fight, fight, fight”, you mutter weakly. It hurts you to talk, to stand upright, to even breath. A tear rolls down your cheek as you bend to look at her, careful not to let your own blood get in the way. Your face never looked paler before and Wednesday is concerned you might faint any moment now. You see Larissa’s eyes move under her eyelids, meaning that she is struggling to open them. A hint of hope makes you chuckle lightly. It was working. Once the last drop of poison comes out of her neck, you let out another moan. You feel like being stabbed in the throat by several needles over and over and your whimpers get louder. The principal starts moaning too, but it’s not pain what bothers her, it’s more like a huge sense of pleasure invading her body. It’s what it's healing her. “You’re healing her…”, Wednesday is dumbfounded and incredibly amazed by what you’re able to do. A cloud of white magic enlightens the entire body of the principal, meaning that it reached upon every inch of it. It feels like a soft breeze to her, whereas it burns like fire to you. Your throat tightens, your head start spinning, your fingers go numb.

She opens her eyes. Larissa isn’t sweating anymore, and her temperature slowly goes back to normal. She meets your gaze for a brief time, and you feel content, relieved to have saved her. “Rissa…”, you mutter, a soft smile graces upon your lips as in the needless attempt to show a hint of strength. Truth be told, you have none left. You know you’re about to pass out, since there is no magic left within you to stop the process. “You… you’re okay”, you stutter happily. Your head feels so light, you blink repeatedly. You simply want to close your eyes. Just for a moment.

Larissa furrows her brows in confusion. She wonders what just happened. Her eyes mirror yours and her heart breaks into pieces, noticing the state you’re in. She calls your name in a whisper. Once, twice. Incredulity hits her hard like a slap in the face. You don’t reply, yet you try to say something, but no word comes out from your mouth, which scares her even more. Blood slides over your now white lips, once plump and peachy. It’s like you choke on your own voice, trapped inside of you. Panic rushes through her. Larissa quickly stands on her knees, so that she can be at the same level as you. Her hands, before iced, feel now warm and welcoming as they cup your cheeks with so much tenderness and care.

“Sleepy”, you manage to say, as you start losing all your will to sit upright. “One moment… to sleep”, you continue, leaning forward. “No, no, no, no”, Larissa is ready to catch you, tightly holding you in her protective arms. “Don’t close your eyes now. Stay awake, open your eyes!”, she feels like screaming. Her eyes scan you and then Wednesday, as to ask for help. She doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t know what you did. The most independent woman is now feeling as scared as a little kid and Wednesday sees it through her eyes, vailed with fear.

“She healed you with her magic”, she informs the principal; her eyes shine with worry as well. “We can help her restore her energy. We have some of her potions in her lab. Maybe-”, Larissa doesn't let her finish, as she simply prompts her to go as quickly as she can.

“I’ll be right back!”, the teen says, before disappearing in a rush.

Your lips soon lose their natural color, and under your eyes a deep shade of black comes up. “You…”, she urges you, rocking you back and forth like a baby. “The risks you always take for others”, she cries softly, shaking her head at the same time. “When will you learn?”, you hear her, feeling like chuckling since she can scold you even in such conditions. But you don’t react. You simply want to sleep. You want to tell her, she shouldn’t worry, yet you can’t. “Once you open your eyes, you’ll see what I do to you”, she shakes her head, tears stream down her face with insistence, blurring her vision. “Please resist as I did. You owe me”.

You do what your body urges you to do and last thing you feel are Larissa’s soft lips placed above yours, with both softness and passion. Can it be? Are you dreaming already? Is it true? It’s the last thing you remember before falling into a deep slumber.

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Soulmates (Larissa Weems x Reader)

Synopsis: In a world with soulmates, your crush is not exactly wanted.

Words: 2k

Warning: none

In a world full of magic, soulmates were hardly the most shocking concept. You knew of plenty of people who had found theirs, the bright colours on their skin a mark of exactly whose soul entwined with theirs. The first touch of skin contact was enough, even if that touch was little more than a brush of pinkies.

You were still waiting on yours.

You had assumed, perhaps wrongly, that living and working amongst people like you, outcasts, would bring you one step closer to finding the person for you. Over a year of teaching at Nevermore Academy and your skin remained as unmarked as ever. You kept waiting for the moment you saw your skin change to something bright.

Unfortunately for you, it also hadn’t stopped you developing a bit of a crush.

Your boss, the supposedly intimidating Larissa Weems, was devastatingly beautiful and always had a warm smile for you. You craved her attention, wanting those enticing eyes on you. Jut hearing her voice sent your heart fluttering.

And at night, if you dreamt of her whispering certain things in your ear, hands on your body, lips on your skin, that was your business.

The worst of it was knowing that there was no chance of her being your soulmate. You were sure, despite having no memory of it, that there must have been a brush of skin at some point. In more than an entire year of soft conversations and encouraging words there wasn’t a chance there’d been no skin contact at all.

All it did was make you work harder to keep it under wraps. You had nothing to offer her if you weren’t her soulmate. You knew she deserved the best, and that wouldn’t be you without that burst of colour.

That didn’t stop the way you found yourself fantasising about her. Red lips leaving lipstick marks on your skin. Fingers finding your heat. The way her breath would hitch under your touch. Moans mingling in the air.

One of the best ways to reset yourself when these thoughts began to become overwhelming was to swim. The cool water, the strain on your muscles, the mindless repetitive movements, they helped to clear your head until you could think again.

Hence why you found yourself emerging from the lake on a particularly chilly evening. You’d spent the better part of the day trying to push away the image of being pushed against the wall by a passionate Larissa after a heated meeting in her office. Your crush was growing out of control and you had no way of improving it.

You pushed your hair out of your face as you emerged from the water, shivering in the water. Toes sinking into the mud and silt at the bottom of the lake, you trudged your way out of the water, fresh air and weary muscles giving you the clarity you needed to continue your job.

“You’ve taken to swimming an awful lot lately.”

You blinked, sure you were hearing things. You could do that sometimes, conjure her voice in your mind, whispering things that would never be repeated. You took another step.

“Please don’t tell me you’re training for some kind of race.”

No, definitely not in your head. You looked up, no longer watching your feet to keep from slipping. Larissa was there, standing just far enough back from the edge of the water to keep from getting her shoes wet. She had that half smile on her face you’d come to know and her eyes were sparkling with mirth.

“No, no race. I’m not sure I’m really the athletic type,” you replied, suddenly aware of how little your swimming costume covered. The cool wind bit at your skin and you shivered. Her eyes travelled down your body and back up, concern marring her features.

“And yet you swim with an ease not often seen outside the sirens,” she replied.

You took another step forward. Your foot landed on the bottom before the floor fell out beneath you. You cried out, one foot sliding away from you as the other seemed to be trapped in concrete. There was a reason you watched each step carefully. You cursed her, Larissa, for being so distracting. You squeezed your eyes closed tight, the inevitable fall looming closer.

Strong hands caught you, one wrapping around your waist, the other landing on your shoulder. You opened your eyes, finding blue eyes peering down at you, red lips turned down in worry. You grasped Larissa’s arm, letting her haul you back onto your feet. Without a word, she swung your legs up, out of the water, depositing you on the grass.

“Thank you,” you said, not quite sure where to look. You’d been in her arms, for a fraction of a second, the whole world coming down to that contact. You didn’t know what to do with yourself now.

“Think nothing of it,” she replied.

Her hand was warm where it still rested on your shoulder. It was making it hard to think, her thumb brushing against your skin. You felt goose pimples rise, hoping she’d assume it was from the cold.

“Although I am now a touch damp,” she said said.

You let your eyes run over her body and yes, there was water clinging to her dress. Your cheeks flamed as you looked at her, knowing this was your fault. If you’d only been paying more attention. If you hadn’t let her distract you. If you could only get your crush under control.

“Oh no,” you said, reaching out, finger tracing over a damp spot close to her hip.

You heard her breath hitch and you froze. You knew you shouldn’t have touched her, it was too familiar. It would let her see inside your heart.

“Sorry,” you said, drawing back until even her hand couldn’t touch you.

The way she gasped had you whirling around, assuming something was sneaking up on the two of you. It wouldn’t be the first time a monster had been loose at the school. Vulnerable and alone you’d make a perfect target.

Only there was nothing to see behind you. Nothing out of the ordinary at least. The same view as always greeted you. You turned back around, expecting an explanation only to find her looking down at the palm of her hand, eyes wide, mouth falling open.

“What is it?” you asked, certain you’d missed something.

“It can’t be,” she muttered, but you didn’t think it was directed at you.

“What can’t be?”

Her eyes travelled up to you again, sweeping over you. Warmth pooled in your stomach at the way she was looking at you. Hope and incredulity and something unnamed bled through her face. Her mouth opened then closed.

“What?”

You grabbed her hand, staring down at the palm. Across her skin a galaxy of blues and green and purples shone out at the world. Your heart plummeted into your stomach. You dropped her hand like it was made of flames and stepped back.

“Sorry,” you said, “I’ll uh, I’ll just head inside and dry off.”

“You don’t want to talk about this?” she asked.

“What’s there to talk about?”

She reeled back as if you’d just slapped her. You took your own step back, horror sliding over your face. You had no idea what had just happened. The way she was looking at you, there was no longer any trace of hope.

“I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea,” she said, “I apologise for any disappointment this has caused.”

“No I’m not disappointed. I’m happy for you. Congratulations. Do you know who it is?” you asked, “it must have happened recently for you to have not noticed until now.”

“Do I…” her eyebrows drew together, “darling, it’s you.”

You shook your head, tears springing in your eyes. You hadn’t thought she was cruel. Intimidating when she wanted to be, but not cruel.

“Don’t do that,” you said.

“Darling.”

She raised her hand, that hand, fingertips grazing against the skin of your shoulder. You jerked away, not needing this newly flirtatious behaviour when you knew she had found her soulmate. The new pet name was already ruining you.

“Look at your shoulder,” she said, a note of command entering her voice.

You shook your head again, taking another step back. Only this time, she took one forward, closing the distance.

“Darling, look at your shoulder,” she commanded again.

You glanced down. Her finger was back on your skin, making you feel dizzy. It was hard to concentrate on the swirling colours on your shoulder. Her finger traced along the edge of it, almost in an exact imprint of her hand.

“What?” Your brain was having a hard time connecting the dots properly.

“It’s you, darling. You’re my soulmate,” she said, “just you.”

“How is that possible?” you asked, “we’ve known each other for over a year.”

“I suppose skin to skin contact isn’t nearly as common as people assume,” she said, “but it’s happened now.”

“Yes.” You were still watching her finger trace patterns over your skin.

“How do you feel about this?” she asked, “I can understand if this isn’t what you were expecting or wanting.”

Your gaze snapped back up to her. Her expression had dropped, uncertainty in every line. You reached up, your hand hovering over her cheek, not quite making contact, not wanting her look like that ever again. Not when it came to you.

“Larissa,” you breathed. You didn’t know what was showing on your face but the concern began to ease, “I’ve had a crush on you since the moment I met you.”

A smile bloomed over her face, bright and wide and you weren’t sure you’d ever seen such joy in a person. Her hand began to move further up your shoulder, growing closer to your neck. You shivered again, now arching into her touch.

“That is a relief to hear,“ she said, “I was beginning to think I was in this alone.”

You cupped her cheek, a sigh parting her lips at the contact. She was too beautiful, your heart constricting at the sight. It was finally hitting you, that she was yours. Your soulmate.

“Larissa,” you said.

“Yes, darling?”

“If you don’t kiss me right now, I might combust,” you told her.

Her smile turned from bright joy into something more predatory. Your breath caught in your throat and heat exploded in your cheeks. That hand travelling over your skin grasped your throat, pulling you closer to her. You let out a surprised squeak.

“We can’t have that now, can we?”

The first brush of lips was surprisingly sweet. You whimpered, cupping the back of her neck, pulling her against you. Something in her broke. She growled into your mouth, her hand pressing against your lower back, keeping you tight against her body.

Her tongue swept into your mouth, dominating the kiss. A moan rumbled through your chest and you clutched at her like she was your life line. She kissed you deeper, taking your breath away. Her groan as you nipped at those red lips sent a jolt of pleasure right between your legs. If you weren’t in public at the school, you couldn’t make any promises about what you would do with her.

She drew away, lipstick smudged, eyes sparkling. She smiled at you, thumb running along your bottom lip. You nipped at the pad of her thumb, watching as her eyes darkened.

“Shall we continue this conversation somewhere more private?” she asked.

You threaded your fingers through hers, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand.

“Lead the way, sweetheart,” you said.

She pulled you in for one last kiss before leading you back up the school and to her private quarters.