#magical witch profile | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

voidpetrova · 8 months

Text

partners in crime — klaus mikaelson x reader

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: none in particular, requested one-shot — comfort

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: you were as twisted as him, and he adored you for it

✧.*

in the heart of new orleans, where darkness and mystique intertwined, an unlikely partnership thrived. klaus mikaelson, the infamous hybrid vampire, had always been a force to be reckoned with. ruthless and cunning, he was known throughout the supernatural world for his audacious schemes and thirst for power.yet, even the most formidable of creatures couldn't resist the allure of a dangerous accomplice, and in this case, that partner was you.

you were no ordinary vampire. you were a heretic, a rare breed born from the unholy union of vampire and witch, wielding both the immortal strength of a vampire and the potent magic of a witch. the stories of your malevolence echoed through the centuries, leaving behind a trail of destruction and fear. klaus had first crossed paths with you in the dark, clandestine corners of the city. a chance meeting turned into a partnership fueled by a shared desire for chaos. together, you embarked on a campaign of mischief and malevolence, weaving your way through the intricate tapestry of power struggles that defined new orleans.

your alliance didn't merely thrive on bloodlust and destruction; it thrived on strategy and cunning. klaus, with his penchant for manipulation, and you, with your mastery over dark magic, were a formidable duo. you orchestrated elaborate heists, sowed discord among rival supernatural factions, and left behind a trail of baffled adversaries who underestimated the malevolence of your partnership.

one of your most audacious acts was the infiltration of a high-profile society gala, hosted by the most influential witch coven in the city. you and klaus masqueraded as guests, seamlessly blending into the crowd. as the night wore on, you unleashed a torrent of dark magic that sent chandeliers crashing, and illusions that played tricks on the minds of the attendees.

klaus reveled in the chaos you created, watching with a wicked grin as the once-coherent gathering descended into chaos and madness. It was in these moments, as you both reveled in the malevolent beauty of your actions, that he couldn't help but feel an undeniable attraction to your power and your wickedness.

as dawn broke over new orleans, you and klaus vanished into the shadows, leaving behind a city forever altered by your malevolent partnership. the world may have deemed you both as monsters, but in each other's eyes, you were the perfect accomplices, two dark souls united in their thirst for power and their love for the evil they created together.

one time, the night was draped in a velvet darkness, concealing your every move as you and klaus stood in the shadows of the mikaelson mansion. the moon, like a pale witness to your impending malevolence, cast eerie shadows across the cobblestone courtyard. klaus, his cerulean eyes dancing with anticipation, leaned in closer to you. “my dearest (y/n),” he purred, his voice dripping with honeyed menace. “tonight, we shall take another step towards our rightful dominion over this city.”

a devilish grin curved your lips as you responded, your voice laced with the promise of chaos. “i know we will. the witches have grown too comfortable, too complacent. it's time we remind them of our power.”

the plan was simple in its intricacy. you had uncovered a secret, a buried legend from new orleans' supernatural history. an ancient grimoire spoke of a powerful artifact hidden beneath the city, capable of granting unimaginable power to any who possessed it. the witches held the key to this artifact, and tonight, it would be yours.

as the mansion's clock struck midnight, you and klaus moved with preternatural grace, infiltrating the ancestral witch house where the coven held their most precious artifacts. the scent of ancient magic filled the air as you approached a cryptic door, adorned with intricate symbols. with a knowing glance, you murmured an incantation, and the door creaked open, revealing a chamber bathed in an eerie blue glow. there, resting on a pedestal, was the coveted artifact—a mystical amulet, pulsating with power.

klaus's eyes widened as he beheld the object of their desire. “remarkable,” he breathed, reaching out to touch it. but you halted him with a firm hand. “not so fast,” you cautioned. “the amulet is protected by ancient enchantments. we must proceed with caution.”

together, you unraveled the intricate web of magic guarding the amulet. each step was perilous, as one wrong move could unleash catastrophic consequences. the air crackled with energy as you manipulated the spells, your heretic abilities and klaus's vampiric strength intertwining seamlessly.

at last, the final barrier fell, and klaus gingerly lifted the amulet from its pedestal. power radiated from it, coursing through his veins. “now, my dear,” he declared, his voice trembling with a heady mix of excitement and greed, “we'll be ruling this city in no time.”

but just as klaus marveled at the amulet, a voice echoed through the chamber—a disembodied whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “you have awakened the darkness,” it intoned. “prepare to face the consequences.”

the room quaked, and the walls seemed to close in on you. you and klaus exchanged frantic glances as the amulet's power threatened to consume you both. it was a perilous gamble, one that could either solidify your reign or bring about your doom. and as the chamber trembled around you, you and him clung to the amulet, your fate uncertain. but in this moment of chaos and uncertainty, your partnership burned brighter than ever, a beacon of malevolence in the heart of the supernatural world.

#tvd #tvdu #the originals #legacies #klaus x reader #klaus imagine #klaus fanfiction #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson angst #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson smut

433 notes · View notes

spoiledblogif · 3 months

Text

This is the development blog for the interactive fiction called "The Second Sight", which you can find on itch.io at the link above!

This is my first IF project, although I've been writing original stories and fanfiction for years.

I've included the story description and character profiles from the itch page below the cut.

This blog will be a combination of development info, images and music that I associate with the story, and other musings.

Fair warning, there might be spoilers from the latest chapters here, so I recommend catching up before reading too far.

Asks and submissions are always open.

You’re an urban legend in a county full of them. When you were thirteen, you were found passed out in the road by one of the local cops. No missing persons report. No fingerprints on file. No memories. Just a name.

Oh, and some bizarre psychic powers. You're content with simplicity. You like your isolated cabin and helping Carter track down missing persons. You know that in theory there are more people like you out there, but you've never wanted to look behind the curtain to find out.

However, with the disappearance of a local teen named Casey Powell and a recent attempt on your foster father's life, your serene, isolated life comes abruptly to its end and a new chapter begins.

✤✤✤

The Second Sight is an urban fantasy story, where you step into the role of a psychic whose strange powers have always separated them from others. Those same powers will drag you down the rabbit hole and into a world that is both the familiar and foreign to everything you know. A world filled with magic, witches, fae, demons, and the unknown.

You can immerse yourself in the story by customizing your protagonist's general appearance, choosing how they interact with others, and whether you lean on logic or intuition to problem solve. There are three love interests planned (more may be added depending on player reception and feedback), the genders of which will be selected by the player upon meeting them.

Characters

Jacob Carter

Age: Late forties

Race: Human. Definitely.

Gender: Male

Temperament: Carter radiates grizzled, old bastard energy and despite being the least paternal person in the world, he is your adoptive father. While harsh and aloof on the surface, he is also fiercely protective of you and has bent over backwards to give a decent life to a kid that isn't even his. He doesn't talk about his life before coming to Herman County and you haven't asked him, though that might change soon enough...

✤✤✤

Zander/Zora

Age: Late twenties.

Race: Human.

Appearance: Umber brown skin, black locs, grey eyes

Temperament: Gentle and resolute, Z isn't what you imagine when you think of an agent of the mysterious Magic and Anomalies Bureau. Kind, soft-spoken, and exceedingly polite, Z is Carter's former apprentice and something about them puts the old man on edge.

✤✤✤ Renard/Rowan

Age: Appears to be in their late twenties or early thirties

Race: Human. Maybe.

Appearance: Tall and slender, white-blonde hair, and gold eyes.

Temperament: Playful and flirtatious, talking to R always feels like a game of cat and mouse and you can never be sure which role is yours. Part sad clown, part trickster, and always maddening to work with, the only things you can be certain of with R is that they probably know what they're doing. Everything else is up in the air.

✤✤✤

Unknown aka "The Kestrel"

Age: ???

Race: Definitely not human.

Appearance: Tall, beautiful, elegant, with black hair and black eyes.

Temperament: The Kestrel is a complete unknown. It's impossible to say whether they are a lethal ally or deadly enemy, but either way they are a powerful dreamwalker. You don't know how long they've been watching you, but you're willing to bet that it's been longer than you're comfortable with.

#pinned post #blog intro #interactive fiction #the second sight

205 notes · View notes

digi-lov · 9 months

Text

Digimon & Magical Witches

Bandai V-Pet Crossovers Part 2 (see Part 1 here)

With Tamagotchi's original launch in 1996, then Digital Monsters in 1997, Bandai and Wiz released Magical Witches in 1998!

While Tamagotchi were based on eggs, and Digital Monsters on cages, the Magical Witches v-pet is shaped like a book, cover and all!

Just like the original lines of Tamagotchi and Digimon, Kenji Watanabe was also the designer for the Magical Witches. Besides going through different stages, the Witches were also divided into four different clans each representing a different magical element. Which tribe of Witches you would raise depends on the version of the v-pet you have.

The clans and their respective magic are as follows:

Eneruge, who specialize in fire magic, Earthlin, who specialize in Earth magic, Baluluna, who specialize in wind magic, and Aquary, who specialize in water magic.

As your Witch grows, it can study other elements of magic! They cannot learn their opposite element until Gen 4 (and master it by Gen 5). So a Eneruge Witch has to learn Earthlin and/or Baluluna magic before they can learn Aquary magic.

[images from gotchi-garden]

Unfortunately this franchise never took off, and no further lines were created past the original line up. The toys are now quite the rare find and any online listings are super expensive.

But part of the franchise lives on within the Digimon franchise!

The Land of Witchelny is now portrayed as another dimension, so to speak, another layer to the Digital World we know. According to offcial DigimonWeb profiles, the land is ruled by elders of each clan and three sages that lead a council governing the clans.

Witchelny is split into four blocks for each cardinal direction, each occupied by a clan, and in the center lies Mount Brocken. On the top of Mount Brocken, the clans have established a joint magic school. Those who master magic (advanced programming language) at said magic school, move on to travel to the Digital World we know.

Here is a list of Digimon, who have been confirmed to have come from Witchelny: Wizardmon /X (master of fire and earth magic), FlareWizardmon (master of fire magic), Sorcerymon (master of light and ice magic), Witchmon (master of wind and water magic), Mistymon (master of various magics, of which fire is its forte), MedievalGallantmon (a legendary hero, who protected Witchelny in ancient times) and Wisemon (born in a magic-less region of Witchelny).

Furthermore, Hexeblaumon is a Digimon that came to Witchelny from the Digital World, and mastered ice magic there.

On the Option Card, Absolute Blast, which features HexeBlaumon, you can also see the symbol of Aquary!

Absolute Blast BT5-097 by Shin Sasaki from BT-05 Booster Battle of Omni

Comparing the original Magical Witches evolutionary charts to the what magic we know these Digimon to be proficient in, we can make some possible connections.

Wizardmon being a master of fire and earth magic, and Witchmon being a master of water and wind magic, these original Witches line up with their abilities.

[Wizardmon: Eneruge native master top, Earthlin native master bottom] [Witchmon: Aquary native master top, Baluluna native master bottom]

However with official artwork, such as the one below, portaying fire and water magic as their respective specialties, I believe the top sprites would be more likely.

With Mistymon being proficient in all magic, only the "Soul" type of Witch applies, which is the same in all clans.

I find this stuff super interesting! But wait... doesn't that one face look familiar...?

SATAN?!

If you are interested in Magical Witches, I recommend you check out gotchi-garden! They have a very detailed coverage on these. Also shoutout to @/MagicLad_Ty on twitter who first brought these to my attention!

#digimon #digimon tcg #digimon card game #digisafe #digica #デジカ #digimon references #Tamagotchi #Magical Witches #Wizardmon #Wizarmon #Witchmon #HexeBlaumon #lov rambles #digimon lore

547 notes · View notes

ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 1 year

Text

"Don't Touch Me" (Loki x F!Reader)

Summary: Cursed with the power of necrogenesis, you are held captive by the Avengers, who think you are too much of a threat to be allowed to roam free. When they decide to give you a chance to prove yourself, they entrust your care to Loki, who whisks you away to a safe house in New Asgard.

Pairing: Soft!Loki x Captive!Reader Content Warning: angst, comfort, smut (18+ ONLY), reader is a prisoner, Soft!Dom!Loki, narratophilia, magic bondage (soft), praise kink Word Count: 5.1k **Please reblog this if you like it! Thank you!**

Hours? Days? Weeks?

For all you knew, it had been a year since your capture.

Three years prior, you’d woken one not-so-fine morning to discover that everything died at the slightest touch of your finger. Whether it was a plant, animal, or person, nothing alive was safe from you. You didn't know how or why it was you, but the fact was: it was you. You went from normal insurance claims adjuster to reaper overnight. It was no small thing to get used to.

You shut yourself away, learned to make friends online and in other countries whom you would never meet in person, tell the pizza guy to leave it outside (money’s in the mail slot), and to put the idea that you;d ever meet a man out of your head forever. You had yet to kill a human, thankfully, but every day you felt the anxiety build within your chest as you knew that record couldn’t possibly remain ‘zero’ forever.

You were a monster. The best thing for a monster to do was to hide in its cave.

Yet, you’d managed three years of hiding, wearing leather gloves from the second you awoke to the second you went to bed (aside from in the shower, of course), and staying as far away from cities as you could. Perhaps, given how introverted you were naturally, you could live a quiet life in peaceful solitude. You were considering buying a cabin in the Appalachians, near a waterfall or a creek one day. It would be lonely, but at least you would be free and unafraid of accidentally killing someone who insisted on shaking your bare hand. The little town in Connecticut where you were keeping a low profile was close enough to NYC that you could see the light pollution on the southern horizon at night, and it would do for the time being.

Unfortunately, your time ended. A surveillance camera had caught an accident of yours in a local park, where one of your gloves had blown off and flown down a path, and in chase, you’d tripped and tried to grab onto a tree branch to stop your fall.

The entire tree came down behind you, barely missing your body, dead as if it had been dried up for centuries in the blink of an eye.

That tape had made it to the eyes of Nick Fury himself over the course of only a few hours. The Team moved in on you on a typical Monday morning, just as you pulled on your gloves, ready to leave the apartment for work. What else could you have done but pulled off your gloves in an attempt to defend yourself? Despite being unable to take out any of your assailants, of which there were four, you’d taken out half of the park’s greenery, and a few unfortunate pigeons that couldn’t get out of your way as you stumbled and desperately scrambled away from the archer, the one with scraggly hair, the red witch, and the birdman.

Before you knew it, you were subdued and wrapped up tightly so that none of your skin below your chin was exposed, and you were taken to a solid glass holding cell somewhere underneath a compound in the Hudson valley: the headquarters for the New Avengers Initiative.

You were fed through a trick door in the side of the 12 x 12 cell (not that you were particularly hungry at any point). You were never taken out or touched, only handed sanitary items through the door and told to shower through a water spout that hung from the ceiling after most of the lab team studying you went home. Dr. Banner gave you 30 minutes without cameras trained on you every day.

Not that it mattered much. You still sat there day in and day out, refusing to speak or answer any of the thousands of questions about your powers that you didn’t want to answer. You refused to eat, and you did little more than sleep or sit on the ground, staring off into the middle-distance.

You began to get weaker, and that was when you first saw your champion.

It was none other than Loki of Asgard, the god who’d torn New York City apart, then played an integral part in stopping the end of the world at the hand (quite literally) of a god much bigger than he. While the rumor was that he still wasn’t considered fully trustworthy, his role in saving humanity was apparently enough to give him a spot on the Avengers squad.

On the morning he’d come down to the cell to get a look at you, he appeared tired, a bit annoyed to be there. “And what do you want me to do about her?”

“She’s a villain, she’s got your…um…background,” said Dr. Banner. “Perhaps she’ll talk to you. She will likely die in a few weeks if this continues. Something has to give.”

“So you called me forth from my respite to show me your latest trophy? Do you think I would approve of you taking captive someone who won’t even speak her name?” he asked, sounding less impressed and more disappointed. “What makes you think she has ill intentions?”

Loki rounded a corner with Dr. Banner, and he was finally in your view.

Your first impression was that he wasn’t quite as intimidating as you’d expected him to be. He was tall, but you’d anticipated a figure at least half a foot taller than what strode up to your cage, dressed in a black leather tunic, trimmed in gold, and form-fitting black trousers of the same color, tucked into green knee-length boots. His hair was tied in a tail at the nape of his neck, and several strands in the front were loose, framing his angular face. His eyes were intense and focused singularly on you as soon as he got you in his sights.

“Did she try to kill you?” he asked, making a beeline for you, standing up along the glass, watching you with interest as if you were a zoo animal.

“She did put up a fight. She may not have super serum strength or anything, but you try apprehending someone who can stop your heart with a flick,” Banner explained.

“And I trust you explained to her what was happening, and gave her the chance to come quietly?” Loki inquired, smiling gently at you, making you turn your head away bashfully.

“Well, no,” said Banner sheepishly. “We were under the impression it wasn’t going to be on the table. According to our intel, absolutely anything she touches dies before it hits the ground, you understand.”

“It sounds as if you wouldn’t have known either way,” scoffed Loki, getting down onto his knee, bringing his eye level closer to the floor, closer to you. “And you all think I’m the bad one. At least I eventually called my sins what they were and changed my ways.”

Banner shrugged. “Well, I’ll leave you to it,” he said. “Maybe if you can get her to talk, we can consider getting her out of there.”

Loki nodded. “I will do my best, and I won’t treat her like a war criminal for defending herself in the process.”

The doctor left the god alone, dimming the harsh fluorescent lights, making the environment slightly more comfortable.

He smiled at you, and even though you knew he was in earnest, something about the sharpness of his grin, the unnatural whiteness of his teeth, gave him an air of sinister jest. You were still afraid to look him in the eye as he shifted around the cage next to where you leaned against the glass.

You heard three light taps by your right ear, making you flinch.

“Hello, there,” whispered a soft, deep voice. “Please don’t be frightened of me. I’m not frightened of you.”

You finally used your voice for the first time in ages, compelled to respond to your dashing jailer without even really thinking on it. “That’s because of the glass.”

“I’m sorry? These walls are thick, would you mind terribly speaking up?”

“The glass,” you repeated. “If we were on the same side, you’d be afraid of me.”

“Forgive me, Miss,” Loki replied, “But I’ve been told enough about you to pass judgment on that, and I say, you aren’t a danger.”

“But how can you tell?” you asked meekly, feeling a tear at the corner of your eye, quickly blinking it back. It was remarkable at how fraught your situation felt: it was enough to extract intense emotions out of every single word you said.

“Darling,” your ally leaned in, as if to whisper a gentle secret in your ear, “I trust my instinct. You look about as helpless as a gosling. I can see how the skin on your neck trembles.”

“I don't know why or how this happened. Please don’t expect answers,” you pleaded. “Please, tell them to let me go.”

Loki sighed and looked down. “My word isn’t, as of yet, in the best position here, though I am working on it, I assure you.”

“Please,” you said, the desperation in your voice losing intensity, giving way to an exhausted weakness. “Please, help me. I just want to live alone where I can’t hurt anyone. I won’t ever go looking for trouble, I swear--”

“--ssh, I know, pet, I know,” Loki said quietly. “Cease worrying. Loki will take care of you.”

Loki will take care of you.

The sentence, particularly its’ delivery, made goosebumps rise along your arms, although you felt them appear for a reason you didn’t quite find familiar at first.

He stayed with you for nearly twelve hours, taking his meals with you, talking gently about inconsequential matters to distract you from your circumstances.

When he was finally forced away so that you could have your evening shower, he turned back one last time before leaving. “I will always be back for you,” he vowed. “Y/N, you’ll be free by morning.”

For the first time since your arrest, you slept soundly, your angular, Asgardian savior filling your dreams with feelings of safety and love.

Loki had promised your freedom by morning. He was true to his word.

“Look, I don't exactly feel confident in letting you two go off into the wild blue yonder to cause havoc,” said the imposing Nick Fury, who, quite frankly, frightened the ever living hell out of you. “I was ultimately convinced,” he looked bitterly at Loki, who shrugged innocently, “but there are terms. If I get wind of either of you sneezing without permission, you both come right back here and get thrown into the motherfucking dungeon.”

“We don’t have a dungeon,” Loki mumbled, a smart-ass grin rolling across his face to try and break the tension. You smiled for the first time in a long, long while.

“Watch it, Laufeyson,” said Fury. “You’re the one sailing this boat. Don't sink it.”

Neither of you wanted to arouse his ire any further, so you decided to quietly slip away and out of the city, taking a quinjet being flown by Banner out to a place you’d never realized existed.

“New Asgard,” your handsome escort explained as you began your descent. “The survivors among my people settled here after the fall of our homeworld and the slaughter we faced when we tried to escape. There aren’t many. It is…regrettably…a bit spartan.”

“Better than that terrible cell,” you answered softly, barely audible. Loki, with the natural hearing of a god, still made out what you’d said, and he gently took your hand and gave it a squeeze, making your heart flutter when you looked into his promising blue eyes.

Indeed, the place was no bigger than a fishing village. In fact, that was essentially what it was. Even Loki scrunched his nose at the sight as you disembarked and let Banner fly off with the plane. Loki had never let go of your hand, and each of you had a small bag slung over your opposite shoulders.

“Welcome to New Asgard,” he said, a bit of disappointment lacing his tone. “We are going to be staying here until Fury sees fit to declare us tame enough to come home.”

You walked up a path to the small town square, every house basic in construction small in scale, and underwhelming in neighborly feeling. Most of the Asgardians were dressed in heavy knitted sweaters and boots and kept their heads down and eyes on their work.

“Weren’t you their prince?” you asked quietly. “Why aren’t they bowing?”

Loki sighed. “Our system of government has changed somewhat since relocating,” he said. “Also, the present King isn’t exactly fond of me.”

You decided to take things one moment at a time (there were too many conflicting emotions swimming in your head to warrant fixating on one anyway), and to let his cryptic comments go. You were going to be here for a long time, so perhaps it was best to let it go. Loki would open up to you in time.

You were nearly knocked over by two children running in chase around you as you meandered. Loki grunted, but remained soft for your sake. “We will need to inform these people, however, to mind themselves around you,” he said, holding back his annoyance.

“Even if it happened by accident, I couldn’t live with myself,” you mentioned.

Loki stopped you and scooped a hand under your chin, looking you in the eye with warm assurance that also had an air of dominance to it, almost like an attractive young school teacher, stern but also kind in his insistence for your obedience.

“Yes, you can, and that is why we are here together,” he said. “Please remember that we are here to help each other, and I am here to protect you.”

“It’s them that need protection from me,” you moaned, disheartened. “If it weren’t for the gloves…” you trailed off.

Loki shook his head and let you go. He tapped your glove. “These will be coming off. Today.”

“No!” you said quickly. “Please, Loki, don’t expose me to everyone like that.”

Your escort shook his head. “Let’s get inside and discuss this. I do believe rain is coming.”

He was correct. Just as the pair of you found your small hovel towards the far end of the shoreline, a chilly splattering of precipitation began to fall about you. Taking out a brass key, he brought you inside, taking your rucksack and tossing it by the bedroom door carelessly.

The cabin was one three rooms: a living room, a bedroom, and a kitchen barely big enough for two people to turn around in. The bathroom also hardly had enough room for a human-sized creature to stand comfortably, as it was about the side of a phone booth plus perhaps a few square feet. There were furnishings, but the sofas, chairs, and tables all look like they’d been scavenged from an old lady’s garage sale at best.

The bedroom only had one large bed, taking up most of the minimal space by itself.

You stood, stupefied, in the middle of the room as Loki observed. You kept your gloved hands close to your chest as you anxiously looked around.

“You may as well get comfortable while I make us some tea,” Loki suggested. “This miniscule cottage is our indefinite home.”

You sat quietly, refusing to move your hands as Loki set up a small tea set he found in the cabinets, taking the steaming kettle to your cup, and in a moment, the smell of peppermint filled your nostrils, putting you slightly more at ease.

He sat beside you, not touching anything on his side of the table, instead bringing the attention back to you once again. He was like an explorer discovering new territory; he needed to know everything about you.

“Pet, I will wait until you are comfortable removing them, but I would like to see them come off today,” he said, again with that attractive stern-but-kind tone that was beginning to make more than your heart flutter. “I would like to feel your skin on mine.”

“You wish to die, then. I can’t control it,” you said quietly, looking away.

“That’s merely because you were never given the opportunity to see if you could,” said Loki, absentmindedly holding out a hand, making you shrink back reflexively.

“Please, don't touch me!”

Loki quickly withdrew, giving you your space and shrinking toward the opposite end of the couch. You couldn’t help but notice he looked a little hurt. “I…I’m very sorry,” you apologized, hoping you didn’t scare off your guardian. “You’re wonderful, and I can’t be the one to take your life, even by accident,” you blurted out.

Loki bit his lip, looking at you again. “Wonderful?”

You nodded. “I believe you when you say you’re not afraid of me. But…I am, okay? I’m a monster.”

He sighed, thinking for a moment on what to say next. “I know monsters. I’ve met them, slain them…you are no monster.” His gentle words filled you with warmth. “And furthermore,” he continued, “I would allow you to touch me, barehanded, right here and now.”

“No.”

You felt his hand on your shoulder, lithe but steady. “The thing about magic, Y/N, is that no matter what form it comes in, what you see is never the complete picture. Any and all magic can be trained, whether to contain or expand.”

You twiddled your thumbs nervously. “I don’t even know where this came from, so how can I know what the key is to controlling it?”

“Willpower,” Loki said, matter-of-factly. “It’s simply how any magic works.”

Loki had stealthily shifted so that your outer thighs were touching, and you were more than a little aware of it. Then, you looked up at your helper just as he brushed a strand of hair away from your brow, tucking it behind your ear, making you sigh a little.

“Ms Y/N, am I startling you?” he asked. “I don’t want you feeling ill at ease with me.”

You didn’t reply.

“If I had to be sent out to a wooden box in the middle of a Norwegian mud pile, I must say I could not have found a more exquisite creature to share in my exile,” he whispered. “I only hope my saying so isn’t too forward.”

“It isn’t,” you answered bashfully. “Loki…I haven’t thanked you yet for what you’ve done for me. And…I think I know how I want to.”

It was as if Loki could read your thoughts, for it was here that he leaned in for your first kiss. You were timid at first, but seeing as it was your escort who initiated contact, you had nothing to worry about, so long as he remained the one to make the first move.

As you pulled apart, you went to remove your cardigan, but you felt Loki’s hand press against yours from through the leather glove you still wore.

“It is your own soft flesh I want feeling my muscles, your fingers I want exploring every part of me,” said Loki. “I have given you every dignity I could throughout this process, but if you cannot give me this one, we cannot--”

You whimpered, and Loki instantly regretted his words. “Y/N, I apologize!”

Shaking your head, you looked at him again, letting your lips perk up at the corners. “You’re right. And, although this has never happened to me before, I don’t want to…to miss out, you know? I just…what if I touch you in the wrong way by accident? If I jump or get nervous?”

Loki smiled. “If you’d really like to, I have an idea. Let me guide you along the way.”

“How?”

“I’ll simply communicate with you. Use my words to describe every gentle move I make. Would that suit you enough to give this a try? I must confess, with each passing moment, I just want to hold you more and more, and listen to your sweet cries--”

“--I…but…”

“There is one more thing we can try,” Loki suggested, brushing your eyebrow with his thumb before laying a sweet, shallow kiss on it. “I can bind you with magic. Softly bind you, so that if you needed to move away, you could, but the weight would be enough to keep you from inadvertently brushing against me with every twitch of pleasure I give to you.”

You felt a hot blush run up your face as the desire laced in between his words filled you with need.

“Wait…”

You took a deep breath and shut your eyes, tugging at the very tip of the ring finger of the glove on your right hand.

Loki ran a thumb across your hot cheek. “You must be brave. I believe in you.” His goddamned touch nearly made you break your concentration, but you were still able to slowly, gently, cautiously, pull off the glove, setting it on the table with a trembling hand.

“If this doesn’t work, I’ll die,” you said, your voice quaking.

Loki was smiling with enough confidence for you both. “There won’t be a need, pet.”

You raised your hand, keeping your eyes focused on Loki, who sat up straight, the kind, empathetic look in his eyes never wavering. If he was in fact nervous, he was a brilliant actor, because you were getting no impression that he felt any sort of peril in the moment.

Finally, you found enough courage to lift your bare hand and bring it in the general direction of your guide. For his part, Loki still did not flinch, even when you felt as if you were about to foolishly commit a murder.

“Loki, I’m sorry if this doesn’t work,” you said meekly, trusting your arm forward before you could change your mind, and closing your eyes.

You felt his cool skin make contact with the pads of your fingers after landing on his left cheek. You didn’t immediately open your eyes, instead waiting for the sound of a body hitting the floor, the sound of a final breath being forced out of the lungs, or the sensation of Loki’s skin going unnaturally cold.

The only thing you felt after several moments was a second set of fingers gently settling over your hand. You opened your eyes, and the tender sight of Loki holding your palm against his skin, his eyes closed as he genuinely savored your touch, was all you saw, and you suddenly felt fifty pounds lighter.

“Oh, Loki…” you sighed in relief. “You’re still here.”

“You don’t want me to die, and thus, I haven’t. Just as I said, yes?”

You smiled and slowly took your hand back so that you could remove your other glove, and with another quick breath, you placed each hand on each of Loki’s, curling your fingers in between his. “Still alive!” you said with a small smile as you finally began feeling at ease for the first time in three long, chaotic years.

“More alive than ever, little princess,” Loki said, leaning over and rewarding you with a longer, deeper kiss. It went electricity down your core, radiating down your legs. You were finally allowed to feel your yearnings, and now, tonight, you could finally act on them. You certainly couldn’t think of a more beautiful, gentle, sexy partner to give yourself to than Loki.

“I think I’m ready for you,” you whispered. “I…I really want you, Loki. You’re the first being to show me such tender kindness, especially after I became a ‘reaper.’”

Loki chuckled without breaking his seductive demeanor. “Is that what you call yourself? Well, princess,” he said, gracefully pulling you off of the sofa to your feet, “the only thing you shall be reaping are the rewards of your obedience to me.”

Smiling, thrilled at the sexy shift to Loki’s tone, you nodded. The god asked, “Y/N, we know your touch won’t destroy me, but would you still like for me to bind you?”

“Yes.” You weren’t agreeing solely out of fear for Loki’s safety, not any more. “Please, an..and please talk to me, too.”

“With pleasure, princess. You were so brave for me, you’ve earned it,” Loki said slowly, leading you to the large, simply-constructed bed and shutting the door behind him. “Now, lie down, no need to remove any clothes.”

You obeyed without a word, which pleased your bodyguard as he stood, towering over you as you lay supine on the mattress. “Good girl,” he said melodically, the voice warming your core, smooth as butter and low as a gentle hum. He snapped his fingers, and with a quick wipe of green mist, both of your clothes fell instantly away, and he now stood before you entirely naked, and you splayed before him similarly.

“My, your skin radiates with warm beauty! Raise your arms out and to the side, or whatever position you would feel best.” You did so, again, without a word, taking your wrists and laying them out at an angle, making your breasts pull apart from one another and creating a gap in between them.

He waved his hand and snapped again, and you felt your wrists go heavy, as if a sandbag was weighing them down. You could move them a little, and you got the feeling you could twist yourself free if needed (not that you wanted to), but you were still securely on the bed, pinned at the wrists and ankles, your legs spread apart, exposing your quickly-wettening pussy to the air as well as your partner.

Loki moaned with approval. “Now, if you need me to lift these, please say so. Understood, lovely?”

You nodded. “Yes, Loki. I’ll do anything.”

Loki looked thoroughly satisfied at your answer. “Oh, you are so obedient! A natural submissive,” he said happily. “It is fortune’s highest blessing to be sharing a bed and home with you tonight…”

He lowered himself over the bed. “May I climb over you and look down upon my conquest?”

You nodded. “Yes, Loki.”

He climbed between your legs, kneeling up between them, his solid, chiseled torso towering above you, intimidating you the perfect amount to thrill you. “Now, I’m going to nibble on that darling little space you have right…here…”

He lowered his head between your breasts, using tongue and teeth to stake his claim on your skin, leaving tiny marks that only nipped a little as he worked his glorious sex magic on you. Every nip, lick, and moan from him made your folds wetter, heavier, needier.

“Y/N, I’m going to touch you now, in this sensitive spot between your legs,” Loki narrated. “I won’t put a finger inside your passage, but I am going to enjoy drawing little figures between your lips and pinching your pleasure bud. And you are going to writhe under me, increasingly needy as pleasure builds up, throbbing for my release…”

You gasped in pleasant surprise as he almost immediately took a hand and inserted two exploratory fingers between your folds. “Norns, my girl is dripping with desire for me. My good girl wants to please her savior!” He pressed his erection against the inside of your thigh as if to display with pride how quickly he’d been turned on by how you were grinding your hips, bucking against his hand.

His silky sweet words echoed in your brain, delirious with arousal. You wanted him to sing these narrations to you over and over. His rich, deep voice was almost enough to send you over your edge. Every word, every action he took, drove you crazy with delightful ache. He fiddled with your clit like it was a tiny marble between his thumb and forefinger, and every flick or twitch of it made you moan and pull against your invisible restraints just enough to feel helplessly anchored in place.

“Y/N, you are so wet, so ready for me already,” he moaned. “I can’t wait any longer. I’m going to fill you with my cock, and you’ll feel your walls stretching around me as I enter you--”

True to his word again, Loki took himself into his palm, positioning himself above you, his tip at your entrance, then, gently, slowly, he thrusted forward, and you felt a slight pinch as he claimed your cunt. Indeed, it felt like every cell inside you had to stretch in order to sheath Loki’s god-sized cock, but the little bit of pain you felt in the moment was quickly washed away in the violent shudders of pre-orgasm tremors that were already reaching critical mass in your core.

Loki arched his back, immediately growling in pleasure as he began thrusting, picking up tempo, sliding up and down your slickened walls with just enough friction to urge him to the edge quicker than he anticipated.

“Damn, but I’m coming…”

You were close, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out for you much longer. “How hard are you coming?” was the smutty question you chose to coax his orgasm from him. “Tell me please! What does it feel like being inside me, Loki?”

Loki grunted animalistically as he concentrated. “You’re milking my cum from me, girl, you’re about to be so full of my seed--”

With the help from his narration, you finally felt your orgasm thunder down your passage and shake your thighs, pushing a high-pitched whine from you as your mouth fell open and your eyes slammed shut.

“Ah! There she is! My good girl!”

Loki’s fall almost immediately followed, marked by four remarkably hard thrusts as he came inside you, his breath heavy and quick. He brought a hand down to your clit and gently massaged it as your orgasm poured out into the open.

“Yes, ride it out with me, that’s my girl,” Loki purred.

Once you both were spent, Loki took your magic bonds off of you. It was still light outside, but you both agreed you were exhausted from your romp, and that perhaps an hour’s nap before supper would be welcome. Still naked, you both went underneath the covers, Loki turning onto his stomach so that he could rest his head under your arm, using your shoulder as his pillow.

“For as long as we are here, you will have nothing to be afraid of, pet,” your lover promised.

“Nothing?” you asked hopefully, already knowing that the strong, wonderful god in your arms was going to protect you for as long as you needed him.

“Your death touch, you have nothing to fear, for it brings me to life,” he whispered softly in your ear. You sensed he was nodding off, and sure enough, with that, his head fell on your shoulder, his breath settling into a softer, quieter rhythm.

Loki will take care of you…

You took a hand and began combing it through his hair, once again enjoying the old-but-new sensation of something other than leather against your fingertips.

@lokisgoodgirl @sarahscribbles @xorpsbane @mischief2sarawr @mochie85 @muddyorbs @michelleleewise @joyful-enchantress @fictive-sl0th @lady-rose-moon @coldnique @chantsdemarins @glitterylokislut @kellatron55 @holdmytesseract @holymultiplefandomsbatman @peachyjinx @trickster-maiden

1K notes · View notes

dreamerwitches · 5 months

Text

Name: Dorothy

Age: Unknown, looks adult

Gender: Female

Eye Colour: Black

Hair Colour: White

Species: Horse

Duty: To be ridden

Witch: Elly

Familiars of the box witch. They act as her heavy duty familiars and are best in a fight. These familiars are formed subconsciously from her labyrinth, the witch didn’t make them by hand. They are maternal with a rough side only shown to their enemies. They are like a parental figure that the witch never had.

#madoka magica #puella magi madoka magica #pmmm #familiar #madoka magica familiar #my art #dorothy #magical witch au #magical witch profile

49 notes · View notes

sapphicbookclub · 27 days

Text

Mortal Follies by Alexis Hall

It is the year 1814 and life for a young lady of good breeding has many difficulties. There are balls to attend, fashions to follow, marriages to consider and, of course, the tiny complication of existing in a world swarming with fairy spirits, interfering deities, and actual straight-up sorcerers.

Miss Maelys Mitchelmore finds her entry into high society hindered by an irritating curse. It begins innocuously enough with her dress slowly unmaking itself over the course of an evening at a high-profile ball, a scandal she narrowly manages to escape.

However, as the curse progresses to more fatal proportions, Miss Mitchelmore must seek out aid, even if it means mixing with undesirable company. And there are few less desirable than Lady Georgianna Landrake—a brooding, alluring young woman sardonically nicknamed “the Duke of Annadale”—who may or may not have murdered her own father and brothers to inherit their fortune. If one is to believe the gossip, she might be some kind of malign enchantress. Then again, a malign enchantress might be exactly what Miss Mitchelmore needs.

With the Duke’s help, Miss Mitchelmore delves into a world of angry gods and vindictive magic, keen to unmask the perpetrator of these otherworldly attacks. But Miss Mitchelmore’s reputation is not the only thing at risk in spending time with her new ally. For the rumoured witch has her own secrets that may prove dangerous to Miss Mitchelmore’s heart—not to mention her life.

Genres: historical, urban fantasy, romance

Order from Blackwell's and get free worldwide shipping!

Listen to the book on audiobooks.com here!

#sapphic books #lgbt books #wlw books #booklr #book recs #historical #paranormal

122 notes · View notes

idoodlestuffsometimes · 1 year

Text

Brother's Keeper AU Story Post 12 (Part 2)

AU MASTER POST

BEGINNING | PREVIOUS | NEXT

[Image ID under the cut]

[IMAGE ID: Three pages of a black and white comic.

PAGE ONE

PANEL 1: Perry Porter continues his news report. "Further investigation," he says, "reveals that this human has been the subject of sightings in Bonesborough for a few weeks now, and is the cause of a recent disturbance at Hexside School. For further comment, here is my own son, Augustus." PANEL 2: Perry interviews Gus, who is grinning with excitement. "Augustus, is it true you've encountered this human before?" "Yeah!" exclaims Gus, "She snuck into the school and now she's my friend! Her name is Luz!" PANEL 3: "Now that they're together, I can see…" says Belos. "It's them." With a point of his finger, he conjures hologram-like illusions of Luz and Lillith, who stand in the throne room facing them, with their names above their heads. "I don't understand," says Caleb. PANEL 4: The illusions have transformed into Luz and Lilith in their disguises from "Elsewhere and Elsewhen." The names over their heads have changed to "Luzura" and "Aunt Dirtrude." "I had to consult memory magic to be sure," Belos says, "but I was correct." Caleb reads the names out loud: "Luzura and--" PANEL 5: He points, laughing. "Wait, is that the witch who broke your nose?" "They're the two who helped me find the Collector," Belos grumbles. "I did always have questions about them. Clearly there was time magic involved."

PAGE TWO

PANEL 1: A profile view of Caleb, quietly sad. "I see," he says. "And this human attacked a witch in a duel." PANEL 2: But then he turns and brings a hand to his chin in thought. "But… the boy called her his friend?" "Either a cunning ploy, or she is… struggling to find her way," responds Belos. "Either way, she isn't ready to face a witch." PANEL 3: A view of footage from the news report, projected by the crystal ball. In a moment from the episode "Convention," Eda exposes the power glyph used on Amity while Luz looks on in surprise. Belos continues to speak off screen. "If it wasn't for the Owl Lady's intervention, she would have sorely lost." "The Owl Lady protected her?" Caleb asks. "Yes, it appears my suspicions were correct." PANEL 4: "The portal door has reappeared, in the hands of another one of your blasted Clawthornes." A close-up of Belos against a totally black background, his face shadowed. One hateful eye gleams from behind his mask. PANEL 5: A close-up of Caleb staring up at him, also shadowed against black. His face is lined, his single pupil a pinprick. His expression is schooled neutral. "And just as before," Belos continues off screen, "the witch has taken advantage to claim a human soul." PANEL 6: "No wonder the child came to me for help. If not for Lilith, perhaps I could have aided her back then." He stands in front of the projection, watching the newscast, his back to Caleb. "I should order her collected and brought here. Shield her from further corruption. If only the Owl Lady wasn't guarding her." PANEL 7: A close up of Caleb jolting forward, fearful. "NO!" he bursts out.

PAGE THREE

PANEL 1: A close-up of Belos glowering dangerously over his shoulder, lit by the broadcast from behind. "No?" PANEL 2: Caleb sweats. "I mean. Philip, don't you think it'll look suspicious to show too much interest in a human?" PANEL 3: Caleb takes Belos hand, clutching him imploringly. "Not to mention the possibilities of meddling in the time-line. It's too risky." Belos isn't looking at him anymore. He looks ahead at the illusion of Luz, whose back is to us in the foreground. His expression is unreadable. PANEL 4: A high angle shot of Belos and Caleb watching Luz's illusion. Caleb still clings to Belos. Luz's illusion is alone now, staring at them blankly as she stands at the far end of the throne room. "Yes," Belos agrees, "I fear it's too early to intervene. It seems the Lord is testing her." PANEL 5: "For now," he continues off screen, "she will have to face the temptations of this realm on her own." A close-up of Caleb, letting out a breath of relief. PANEL 6: Caleb's eyes snap open. Belos' hand has come up to brush his cheek. PANEL 7: Belos pulls Caleb into a hug. Caleb's face over Belos' shoulder is drawn in supressed, silent horror, cast in deep shadows, as Belos murmurs to him reassuringly. "Don't worry, Caleb. The Owl Lady will be taken care of. And then the portal to the human realm will be in safe hands." PANEL 8: Belos and Caleb in profile against a black background, casting long shadows on the ground. Belos hunches over Caleb, one arm around his back and the other hand on the back of his head, pressing him close. Caleb dangles limply, face towards the ceiling, pulled halfway out of his wheelchair. Belos murmurs into Caleb's hair. "I won't let history repeat."

#The Owl House #TOH #Caleb Wittebane #Philip Wittebane #Emperor Belos #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #lilith clawthorne #gus porter #perry porter #Brother's Keeper AU #doodle art #ah yes just totally normal brothers. nothing to see here! I'm sure Caleb and Luz and the Clawthornes will be just fine #with this and the last one there was so much dialogue i finally gave in and started using type instead of hand-lettering #still some kinks to work out but i think i'll stick with it. some def improvements not having to draw out guidelines anymore :)#also!!! my handwriting is now a font. for the sake of transitioning to type without it looking suddenly super different. Very fun :D

1K notes · View notes

jokeringcutio · 3 months

Text

The Grabber x Hufflepuff (f) Reader [1] (Explicit, warnings)

Because I noticed an astonishing amount of my Grabber readers have this one thing in common. It's the house. Hufflepuff. They all have Hufflepuff on their profiles. Summary: You're a Hufflepuff student and you get caught by the Dark Lord's infamous snatcher known as The Grabber.

Fandoms: The Black Phone, Harry Potter Rating: Explicit Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, clad touching, non/con or dub-con touching, Reader is a Hufflepuff, Reader is Innocent. Reader is a virgin, Reader is a Mudblood/Muggle-born, use of little witch/littlegirl/little one, Reader is of age, Grabber has an innocence corruption kink, Reader gets kidnapped. Harry Potter 2nd Wizard War AU.

Grabber x Hufflepuff [ 1 ]

The Room of Requirement shimmered with the focused intensity of young witches and wizards, secretly preparing for the fight against the Dark Lord and his followers. You were among them, your wand tracing arcs in the air as you practiced defensive spells like all others. Some students here were younger than you, some slightly older. But everyone was practicing with the same passion. The air was thick with concentration, punctuated by the occasional crackle of magic gone awry.

"Hey," Ginny's voice cut through the hum of activity, pulling you aside. She was in the same year as you, although you hadn’t truly talked until you joined Dumbledore’s Army. Her eyes held an edge of urgency. "I need you to fetch some Hellebore Herb from the Forbidden Forest."

You nodded, a quick, sharp motion. "I can do that," you murmured, feeling the weight of the task settle on your shoulders. Slipping out of the school was a grizzly task nowadays. Students weren’t allowed to leave as it was said to be too dangerous out there now that the Dark Lord had returned. But you knew danger lurked inside the walls of your school as much as it did outdoors. Most of the staff at Hogwarts was sympathizing with the pure-blood radicals. If one of them caught you sneaking out of the school, they’d be taking their time punishing you with heavy torture spells.

Luckily, you were quite skilled at being silent, always alert, and excellent at not being noticed. Ginny knew this. It was why she usually asked you or Clementine Felley, a Ravenclaw with similar skills but a year below you two, to do these sorts of assignments.

Because you’d been doing this for a while, you had grown confident in your skills. In the shadowy corner, you slipped into your school robe to protect yourself from the cold outside. You made sure to flip your hair from underneath it before donning the hood and hiding it again.

The yellow and black of Hufflepuff covered you, and you were glad you belonged to that house. Somehow, the yellow became just another shade when you were out in the dusk or dark, resembling green or brown and adapting to your surroundings. You ran your fingers over the emblem, feeling the rough embroidery against your skin, before you grasped a wicker basket, its weave tight and firm.

Creeping out of the Room of Requirement, you clutched the fabric of your robe close. The corridors loomed silent and watchful. You knew the stakes — capture meant punishment, Crucio, or worse if the Carrow siblings got their hands on you.

As the doors groaned closed behind you, you drew a deep breath. Every shadow could hold a spying eye, a guard, or an enchantment meant to betray your step. But like so many times before, you made it out of the school with practiced ease. The Forbidden Forest loomed, a dark maw ready to swallow you whole. Your heart thudded against your ribcage, but you pushed forward, feet whispering over fallen leaves and twigs.

Like you had hoped, nothing happened. You weren’t spotted. There was no alarm raised. And the deeper you got into the forest, the more at ease you started to feel. Not that there weren’t countless of dangers here, but with your wand and your knowledge of spells, you felt you could handle the forest’s creatures.

The underbrush crunched beneath your knees as you knelt, fingers sifting through the damp soil. You found the Hellebore — a sinister beauty with its deep green leaves and delicate blooms that belied the poison lurking within. Your breath came in careful puffs, visible in the twilight of the forest.

"Aren’t you a brave girl?" The voice was like gravel, grating against the hushed whispers of the trees. It struck a chord of fear, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your gaze lifted, heart beating high in your chest. There, a few feet away from you, a devil's mask leered down at you, eyes hollow pits of malice. You instantly recognized the foul creature from pictures in the newspaper. Moving images of the same mask, two hands raised next to it, showing the same rings you saw now glinting on his fingers in the light of the moon.

The Grabber.

His name slithered through your mind, conjuring images of snatched souls and vanished faces. His jacket hung open, revealing a swath of bare chest, skin pale in the moonlight, betraying he was just another man.

“What are you doing, lovely?” The voice was so deep and low that you felt it deep in your core. You squeezed your legs together uncomfortably, hoping the man didn’t notice the gesture, as you slowly rose from your knees.

Even standing, the man was at least a head taller than you. If not more.

“Well?” He tilted his head, the mask mocking you as it slanted.

"Collecting herbs," you managed, voice a mere wisp of sound. You tucked the Hellebore behind your back discreetly.

"Oh,” the man made a mocking sound that was almost called gentle. “Sweet thing, aren't you? Voice like honey." The Grabber cocked his mask, angling it in such a way that his eyes could trace you up and down. You could feel it, felt his gaze as it roamed over every inch of your body. It felt intimate, the way he studied you.

He stepped closer, the scent of earth and something darker emanating from him.

“Well, aren’t you going to tell the big bad man what kind of herbs you are collecting out here, on your own, at the cusp of midnight?”

You knew he had you there. No student was allowed in this part of the forest or indeed allowed to roam outside at night. In fact, no students were allowed out at all. And by your robes, he could easily tell you were still a student, that you belonged to the school nearby.

A man like him, working for the Dark Lord himself, would not let you go unpunished. He would either hand you back to the school, or he would dish out the punishment himself. But with his reputation for being a man who tortured his victims and made innocent people disappear, you had a feeling which one it would be. The others wouldn't get their herbs today. You had failed them. For a short moment, you wished one of the Carrow siblings had caught you on your way out instead.

“I-I will,” why was your voice trembling? Why did you stutter? Were you truly this scared of the legendary snatcher who was said to be more demon than man?

“Very cute all the stumbling,” the man interrupted you. “I don’t care what you came here to collect. All I care about is that you are being naughty. Being out here, on your own, late at night. There are all sorts of bad men prowling about. Hadn’t you noticed?”

You blinked, clearly confused by his words because he obviously was one of these bad men himself. Why else would he trod around wearing a demon’s mask, bare-chested, in the middle of the night? He was out here, hunting.

Did that mean that others were nearby? That you somehow had been unlucky enough to cross paths with the ones he was chasing. People the Dark Lord wanted to see dead.

“I-I am s-so sorry. The H-herb I needed only grows at night and I thought-" you lied.

“Hellebore Herb,” he interrupted, cutting you short yet again. Of course, he must have caught sight of it. You nodded, realizing that although you had been trying to hide it behind your back, there was some more Hellebore near your feet. It would have been an easy guess.

"Well, well” he muttered, and you watched as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. The way his jacket swayed about revealed a hairless stomach with trained abbs, slightly pudgy but you supposed that came with age.

“Are you a full or half-blood?"

Huh? It was a sensitive question, but you could guess why he would ask it. The Dark Lord wasn’t keen on anyone not considered pure. You could lie to him. You knew you should. But something about the glint behind the dark holes of eyes in the mask told you he already knew the answer.

"Neither,” you reluctantly admitted, hanging your head in defeat. The herb dropped from your hands, fingers outstretched behind your back. “Muggle-born," a reluctant whisper and most definitely a death sentence. To lie was folly; he would know. To think all your bravery and good intentions would end here, tonight. That your defiance would be squashed down by one man and an unlucky encounter. Fear danced along your nerves, yet you forced stillness upon your frame.

"Charming," he murmured, surprising you as he closed the gap between you. The brush of his fingertips against your hair sent an unwanted tingle down your neck. "I would love to take you home."

You stiffened, the words wrapping around you like chains. There was no mistaking the implication, the threat veiled as a compliment. He wanted to snatch you the way he had done so many others. But there was something else underneath, something thick with arousal.

His presence loomed, a specter of dread. His breath grazed your cheek, slipping out from underneath the mask as he studied you with a sidelong glance. You let him touch your hair, let him believe he held sway. Inside, your thoughts raced — plans, strategies, hopes all tangled in a desperate knot.

"Would anyone miss a sweet little muggle-born witch?" he cooed, playing with a lock of your hair. His closeness disgusted you, but you tried to use it to fool him. Your hand slipped into your robe, ever so carefully, and searched for your wand, mentally preparing to knock him back with a spell.

"Everyone is missed by someone," you replied, your voice steadier than you felt.

"Ah, but will they look for you?" The Grabber's tone was a taunt, a predator enjoying the quiver of his prey.

They would. They had to. Ginny and the others would notice if you didn’t come and deliver the herb. They would alarm the others, start a search for you, make sure your parents were informed. And then, the true search would start. No matter how influential the Dark Lord was, he couldn’t stop your loved ones from searching for you. They would, you just knew it. You were loved. You clutched your wand in your fist, preparing to attack.

"Let's find out," the moment the whisper reached your ears, his hand left your hair. You felt how his hand slipped into yours, disarming you by taking your wand. How had he known that you'd reached for it? That you held it? "You don't need that, little girl. Wands are for grown-ups," he teased, voice sing-song. And you silently fumed because you were an adult. Even if it hadn't been for that long. How belittling the man sounded, how he seemed to take pleasure in making you feel small. Then, his mask came closer again, forcing you to lean a little more backward.

"Run, little girl," the Grabber hissed, and without a second thought, you spun on your heels and you ran. With a twist of your body, you broke free from his grasp, feet pounding against the forest floor as you sprinted toward safety.

You could hear him, the laughter that bubbled up from his throat, rich and deep and terrifying.

"Run, little witch, run," he taunted, delight evident in each syllable. "I do so love a chase."

Branches whipped against your face, leaving hot, stinging trails in their wake. Your lungs burned with exertion, the distance between you and the safety of the school shrinking with every desperate stride.

You could reach it, you had to. At this point you didn’t even care if any of the guards spotted you and if they crucioed you until you wished you had never been born. Anything was better than this. Anyone was better than this man. This demon who you’d read about.

Kidnapping. Torture. Unethical spells.

If he got you, you’d never see the light of day again. You’d be done for. You'd die a horrid death.

The outline of the school loomed into view. Just a little further. You pushed yourself beyond your limits, limbs stretching, going faster than you ever had, before your freedom was snatched away. An arm snaked around your waist, making you tumble. His hands clamped over your mouth, stifling the scream that tried to escape. Together, you crashed into the underbrush, his chest, a wall of heat and hardness, pressed against your back. The scent of him enveloped you—earth and sweat and something darker, unnamable.

You fought to breathe, feeling the strain of his fingers against your lips, pushing tightly so they couldn’t even part. You tried to wiggle out of his grip but he only tightened it, hissing in your ear as something hard poked against your butt and you instantly came to a still, eyes wide open. That wasn’t…?

"Shhh," he hissed as a guard's lantern light flickered in the distance. "Not a sound."

You had no choice but to wait in his embrace, feeling his chest heave rapidly up and down behind you. His palm warm against your lips, his heart hammering against your spine. Sweat from his naked chest brushed against your robe.

The moment stretched, an eternity wrapped in seconds, until silence returned and the light of the lantern disappeared into the dimness of the night. Then he rose, pulling you with him, his grip ironclad and unyielding.

"Be silent. Don't make this difficult," he commanded, his hand was upon your arm, gripping you tight, as a wand was raised by the other. It took less than a second for you to realize what was about to happen, but you didn’t have time to counter his spell or try and get away.

You knew what came next—the sensation of being squeezed through an impossibly tiny space, the world blurring into darkness. Apparition. A forced journey to an unknown hell.

You now stood somewhere else, in someone’s living room by the sights of it, too busy taking in your surroundings to stop how the Grabber replaced his hand from your arm to your neck. The squeeze was painful, bringing tears to your eyes, and your hands darted up to try and alleviate his grip. But to no avail.

The man forced you to walk from the living room to the kitchen. Standing in front of a white door, you couldn’t distinguish the soft muttered words that were muffled by the mask, but it was clear he was using some kind of magic to unlock and open it.

A deep and dark room appeared, a staircase leading down to it. Like a basement full of concrete. Then he pushed you through the door.

The grip he had on your neck was firm enough that it became difficult to breathe, as he guided you down the stairs and into what seemed to be a grey and mostly empty room.

The basement was a tomb of dampness and decay. You were thrown onto a mattress that reeked of rot, each spring groaning in protest. He loomed over you, a shadow stripped of humanity.

"Let me have a look at you," he demanded, settling before you and reaching out without expecting an answer.

You felt like a trapped animal and tried to crawl away, but your robes obstructed your movements. And where would you go? There was only a wall behind you, the grey concrete looked chipped and filthy, but also sturdy. You’d need your wand to get out of here.

The man’s hands were already untying your robe, pushing the cloak aside at both sides. Fear twisted inside you, a serpent coiling tighter with every passing second. Veins were visible on the male’s hands. He must be an older man, you thought. And strong.

You tried to struggle and pushed your hands against his arms in an attempt to stop him. But he only stopped his movements to shush you, angling his mask your way before his hands slid past the fabric of your clothes once more.

"Yellow and black," he mused, fingering the edge of your school robe with a touch that was both reverent and mocking. "I always had a thing for Hufflepuffs... loyal, kind, innocent. Wouldn't harm a fly." His voice dripped with sarcasm even as his fingers delicately parted the fabric to reveal your uniform beneath.

You held your breath, trying to shrink away from his probing gaze, but here there was no safety for you. He leaned in closer, heat radiating from his body as you deliberately tried not to look at the bulge he was sporting in his pants. "But innocence is often just a facade... physically they are pure. But mentally," here he chuckled.

"Please..." The word escaped your lips as a whisper, a feeble attempt to preserve some dignity.

A low growl rumbled from the depths of his chest and his nails pressed into your skin as his grip on you became more bold. “I like it when you beg. Makes you look cute, honey.”

You whimpered sadly, realizing that begging wasn’t going to save your life.

"Quiet now," he murmured, his voice a velvet threat. "You won’t need this."

The robe was pushed down your shoulders without a fight.

"Shh," he hushed you, his fingers sliding up the sensitive flesh of your bare thigh, just above your stockings, causing an involuntary flinch.

His coarse fingertips traced dangerously close to your skirt now. You couldn’t help it. You weren’t a fighter like the Slytherins or Gryffindors were, but you had your boundaries. With a sharp movement, you brought your elbows down to harm the man, but the Grabber was quicker. He caught your wrists with just one hand. A sad realization that his hands were large and strong enough to subdue you. You wiggled ineffectively, feeling the grip around both your wrists tighten.

"Cute," he chuckled darkly, taking pleasure in the shiver that coursed through you.

"See," he breathed out, his hand venturing beneath the pleated skirt, touching you where no one had ever touched before. "You are going to love this." His words were poison, staining the rawness of the moment with vile certainty.

"Stop," you tried to command, but it came out as a whimper, your own body betraying you under his invasive touch.

His fingertips stroked past your covered folds, the crotch of your panties dampening with each intimidating stroke. The pressure was just right, pressing down tightly enough to stimulate your clit through the soft cotton layer until he had you squirming. Soft mewls escaped your lips instead of pleas while he still held your wrists up with one hand, making it impossible for you to fight him off or crawl away from his touch.

"Ah, there it is," he whispered triumphantly as his finger traced over your damp core. "Your mind's as filthy as they come, little witch."

Panic clawed at your insides, yet amidst the terror, a spark of rage ignited. You hated him, hated his touch, his violation of all you held sacred. You loathed the way he made you feel; exposed, vulnerable, and worst of all, responding despite yourself.

"Doesn't this prove your point?" you spat out with venomous defiance, despising the trembling of your own voice. You were wet, you could hear it now. You felt your nipples peak underneath the fabric of your blouse, their tips pressing through the layers of clothes you were still wearing. But you had no doubt he had caught sight of it.

“Who said I wanted to prove anything?”

For a moment the two of you sat in complete silence while his fingers still rubbed your clothed core. Slick sounds emerged from between your legs while the Grabber stared at you. Was he waiting for an answer?

You tried to control your breathing, thankful when he finally lowered his other hand and with it your wrists. Your arms were starting to feel sore. Yet, that didn’t distract you from the warmth that was slowly building up inside your core. A tight coil was inside your tummy, your legs started to tremble. Whatever function your panties were supposed to have was rendered nihil as he flicked and fondled your clit through the now-soaked-through piece of garment. The fabric clung to your folds, making it easier for him to brush his fingers and the cloth deeper inside, even being as bold as to try and dip a fingertip in until you moaned and thrashed against him.

You turned your head aside, unable to look at him and his devilish mask as an orgasm was rapidly approaching. Your body trembled under his touch as the finger pushed against your entrance once, twice. And then suddenly withdrew.

Shaking, you sat there, blinking confused before you turned your head to face him. Your body felt hot, between your legs, it was burning with desire. The orgasm was so near that you could feel the first tremors already racking through your body. But he had stopped on the cusp of it, withdrawn as a form of pure torture. Leaving you undone, a trembling and whimpering mess on the dirty pale mattress.

You looked up at him, cheeks red and eyes full of arousal. Even forgetting to lower your arms now that his hold on you was gone. Not that you wanted him to have sex with you, but you were the epitome of a woman on the cusp of ecstasy - eager to have your bodily desire fulfilled. You wanted to feel good. Your mind was now conflicted, torn between wanting him to finish and wanting him far away. You looked at him, flushed, eyes begging him to finish what he started. No wonder a low groan escaped him while he squeezed the bulge in his pants as he rose to stand tall again.

“So innocent,” was all he announced before trying to run a hand through his shoulder-length hair. It must be a habit, you realized, mind still hazy with lust, because the movement had no purpose. The man’s mask was clasped behind his head with several bands. His fingers couldn’t properly run through his hair, and he had to halt his movement and lower his arm again.

You smirked up at him, as if you’d just found out a secret about him.

If you could undo those clasps, you could see his face. If you could escape, you could pass that information to the others. He’d finally be an easy prey.

A sudden movement shook you out of your thoughts when he suddenly dipped his hand inside the pocket of his own jacket. Your wand slid out, the hand in which he held it still glistening in the dark from your juices.

"M-My wand," you whispered, the sound barely escaping your lips.

"Shhh, little Hufflepuff," he cooed mockingly before holding your wand up high, seemingly to study it.

And you finally propelled into action. Your wand was an extension of yourself, of your magic, and it shouldn't be in his possession. You scrambled onto your hands and knees in an attempt to jump up and snatch the wand out of his hands, even if he was that much larger and even if you probably couldn’t reach it when you jumped anyway. But you had to try it. You had to get it back.

Your wand was the only thing that could get you out safely.

The Grabber seemed to have predicated your move. It only needed a whisper of his lips, and you sat frozen.

“It works well,” he muttered, words muffled by the mask. And you had no choice but to watch as he lowered his arm. Your breath caught as his fingers, rough and calloused from years of unforgiving work, slipped into the pocket of his dark robes, taking with them your wand—your lifeline.

He patted the pocket of his jacket as if to taunt you, the jacket smacking against his hip as it still hung open to reveal his naked chest. You could see his belly roll with each deep breath taken. He was still aroused, taking delight in playing these games with you.

A whimper escaped your lips, unbidden, raw with the fear of helplessness.

"Isn't that just adorable," the Grabber mused, his voice a low rumble that resonated through the cavernous basement. You watched, heart pounding, as he prepared to leave, the satisfaction in his stride unmistakable. "Don't worry, pet. You won’t be needing that while you’re here."

You watched him as he made his way to the door. If only he hadn’t put that spell on you and you could still move… But as it was, all you could do was sit and watch as he carried your only hope for survival with him.

“I think I’ll just add your name to the list of deaths," the low husky murmur of the Grabber surprised you. It came unasked, just another way he was mentally manipulating you, you guessed. "No one’s gonna ask for you. But you know, future reference. In case anyone decides to start prowling,” he paused, turning his mask to face you from over his shoulder. “It'll just be another whoops. My hand slipped. Killed a pretty little girl out in the forest. Mud-blood witch. I had my orders.”

Anger raged inside of you, boiling under the frozen surface. You wished you could grit your teeth, curl your hands into fists, growl even. But you could do nothing.

He'd report you as another casualty, another life claimed by the darkness he served.

"It’s a cheap trick, but it works every time," he said casually. "Mostly had boys before you. This will be new." The implication hung heavy in the stale air, a sentence without an end, and it was suffocating.

Why? You wondered. Why not just kill them? Why take them home?

The Grabber paused, the mask changed direction until it almost looked like the demon grinned. "I like to play a game. Only with the cute ones though.”

Panic seized you and you felt like you suddenly couldn’t breathe. He hadn’t just read your mind, had he? Merlin, please don’t let him be a Legilimens.

The Grabber fully turned back to you, the demonic mask’s expression seemed to have changed. But surely, that must be your imagination. Or had he cast a spell on it?

“Want to know what it’s called?” he taunted. And you thought. No. No, I don’t want to know what the game is called.

But instantly after, a different voice inside your head said otherwise. What game did he play with his victims, you wondered?

You almost heard the smirk that was hidden underneath the mask. “Since you asked so nicely,” he murmured, confirming your fear that he was someone who could read minds.

“It’s called the naughty game.”

Then he smoothly turned on his heels while a thousand thoughts clouded your mind. You watched him, his back to you as he ascended the stairs, leaving you to contemplate the twisted rules of his game. What happens if you're naughty? you wondered, a desperate plea for some semblance of understanding.

He halted, his silhouette framed by the dim light at the top of the staircase.

"You lose," he answered, the words echoing ominously off the walls.

And with that, he disappeared from sight, leaving you alone with the chilling silence, your wet panties, and your racing thoughts. ~ AN: More? ~

~~ Support me on Ko-Fi - Masterlist - Request Box ~~

#Reader x The Grabber #Grabber x you #Grabber x reader #the grabber x reader #the grabber x hufflepuff reader #the grabber x hufflepuff student #the grabber #Black Phone #Harry Potter #albert shaw #Albert shaw x reader #albert shaw x you

87 notes · View notes

cupids-chamber · 1 year

Text

— HOW WOULD YOUR PARTNER REACT TO SEEING YOUR OLD TWEETS SIMPING FOR SOMEONE BACK IN YOUR WORLD ?

Gender neutral reader / Fluff / Slight crack but taken slightly seriously / some suggestive jokes (Octavinelle part) / Partially edited and re-read so mistakes may occur / Lazy writing / 0.9k words

A/N: Anon was lowkey simping in my inbox, but yk what.. this is a safeplace.. so y/n's tweets are gonna be me simping on main. Also very lazy forgive me I'm tired.

★ HOW DID YOUR LOVER/CRUSH FIND YOUR OLD TWITTER ACCOUNT? You will never quite know.. It took awhile.. But for some reason he was able to get ahold of your old phone and somehow, by some magic of sorts.. Surely the great 7 favored him, because not only was he able to get on your phone, but guess your password as well.. And even find his way onto your twitter account.

— DEUCE SPADE ♠️ ; Your partner may have been quite dimwitted and dense in typical topics, but Deuce had a knack for mechanics and it was quite sweet of him to offer so kindly to help fix your old phone up, since you didn’t like the quality or durability of the one Crowley had given you; so of course you agreed; that and Deuce’s face was adorable. You were also quite curious if you could download apps from Twisted wonderland on a phone from your previous dimension, and you were even more curious as to if you could contact and use things you had already downloaded on the phone using wifi from here? Maybe you could contact people from over there..

Deuce worked hard to fix your phone, and of course he had to check it before giving it back to you! He couldn’t hand you an unfinished project, then you’d find the poor blue-bird incompetent! Turning on your screen it loaded and displayed your twitter account in full view for him, ‘Is this app similar to magicam?’ Deuce thought to himself, he couldn’t help but mindlessly scroll through the app and your various posts.. He was left quite conflicted.

Deuce actually didn’t think much of it, partially because he trusted you quite a large sum and because he was also rather dense and couldn’t quite understand what exactly you meant with those posts. The only reason he even started to see doubts was when both Ace and Cater pointed out your behavior on the posts.

Sure Trey and Riddle tried providing somewhat comfort, well the best they could; towards their poor first year. Deuce didn’t favor jealousy, his mother always taught him how dangerous a feeling as dark as jealousy can be. His mother also taught him to communicate his feelings, so that’s what he did.

Deuce chose to communicate with you, it took him some time. But Deuce is beyond aware of how dense he can truly be.. And he loved that you were ok with that.. Deuce expressed his discomfort, and though it was hard to process, he understands your posts were mainly a humorous joke, and that you’d never truly feel attracted to.. that..(He also gets so much more clingy, he doesn’t realize this thought)

— AZUL ASHENGROTTO, JADE LEECH, & FLOYD LEECH ♡ ; Azul was truly a favored witch, blessed by the great 7. No.. you’d say the Octavinelle trio was blessed by some unimaginable fortune. As Floyd played around teasing you, and chasing you around.. Jade handed Azul your phone.. You didn’t quite realize when the tall eel had taken your phone out of your pocket and handed it to his brother.

And now it was in the hand of the great sea witch himself. “Oh— what’s this?'', Azul opened up the little bird icon on your phone, thinking it wouldn’t be anything as surprising.. Nothing he hasn’t already found out and collected as blackmail when he inevitably asks you out and just.. In case you were to.. Let’s just say by some unpredictable future, reject him. Of course he’d deal with the tweels nagging about that later.

Floyd stops in his tracks, as he closes in on viewing your phone screen with the pair.. The trio then move onto your profile.. “Wait.. isn’t that— MY PHONE!”, before you could fight to grab it back, Azul reads your first three tweets out loud.. For everyone in the office room to hear.

Let’s just say no one predicted that.. And you remained frozen in your spot.. What could be more embarrassing than your crush’s literally going through your private tweets about some.. Questionable things.

The three of you stood there in utter silence, well Azul had lots more to add onto that blackmail folder. It took a while before Floyd finally chose to break the ice between you three.

“Hey shrimpy— do you have a voice kink by any chance?”

“FLOYD!”

— MALLEUS DRACONIA ♛ ; Malleus has been a well composed person, he does get confused.. But that's because he’s unreasonably dense. It’s quite surprising, his obliviousness in some cases makes him so unintentionally funny and you quite literally hate how people would rather be afraid of him then get to know how ridiculously hilarious he could be.

That’s not to say he lacks in any field, he’s quite smart and though it takes him a while to process certain modern lexicon it’s still a fun experience. And it’s funny seeing him try and implement certain phrases into his day to day life; one time he said slay while Silver was training, and Silver lost his balance while Sebek had a breakthrough about how you ruined his wakasama and turned him into Lilia.

Now despite these improvements, you really should have told your little crush about the aspect of typical privacy.. And phones. Because you found him scrolling through your twitter account, looking star-struck and frozen as your phone reflected a certain tweet you had made previously.. Oh how you’d explain this one to the green haired gremlin.

Gets more clingy, and possessive. Also he unintentionally says some of the most threatening yet attractive things. (Border-lining: “Are you trying to kill me or is this your way of flirting”)

794 notes · View notes