Torturing people… Reaping souls… The Family business. Freya Potter didn't have a very good beginning; extensive abuse leaving her mute. Luckily for her, Lily wasn't… exactly mortal. She dreams of the Lost, whom ache to be found. And as she travels back, Freya found that even in the silence that tore at her vocal cords; there is also a beautiful understanding. Female Hp/Lost Boys
Female Hp x Lost Boys
Character Bashing.
Sex scenes. Horror, D/s, Darkness as an actual living thing. Menstruation.
Telepathy. Time Travel. Mayhem.
M
(Quick thing, Freya will be going back in time to save them. We'll get there. Thanks for clicking.)
"Not Freya… Please. Have mercy." She remembers begging; refusing to stand aside in the name of her daughter, for the things that she would do for her blood would make all of Heaven itself intrigued. It wasn't long before the sickening color of green claimed her seemingly mortal life, laying claim to her as if she were naught more but a pawn on the chessboard. It blanketed her vision behind her eyelids for what seemed like eons, etching itself in her subconscious to prove it had been there.
Despite her plea for mercy not that of her own life, when Lilith awakened she was thoroughly pissed. She was just killed by a talentless, death fearing pansy (He now had a valid excuse, she'd make sure of it.) with a weird snake fetish… due to a rat faced betrayer and god complex, lemon drop eating old man. …Because reasons, apparently.
She pulled her naked body up from the bed sheets beneath her to feel her bright red hair set aflame with her rage. A deep breath was taken in and out, repeating until it was easier for her to calm her hair. Standing up, a growl gave way from fanged teeth as she grabbed the bed to feet from falling. Her baby… what happened to her baby?!
Her time as Lily Evans was bittersweet, despite never really caring for mortal life unlike her brother Adam and the Gods that danced before he even drew breath. Much like she did being reincarnated as Morgan Le Fay, who had a father who despised magik due to a mental illness, Lilith had plans for her life. …Primarily chaos.
Ever since she refused to submit to Adam, who was not her own mate, and was forced out of what had come to be her home. She remembers how angels were sent to her as she traveled to the red sea, tempting her to come back. Through history, all that recognized her text called her Nyx; for like the phases of the moon, she too was an unadulterated force to be reckoned with.
Despite having creations of creatures at her disposal, that was the first life that she had a child of her own. James ended up… being something that challenged her, surprised her, and loved her to the very end. Without the assistance of love potions or any spells to achieve this, after all she was immune to them anyway. She smiled once, for she knew that wherever James ended he was happy. She could feel it deep within the abyss that was her soul.
Her child, however. What the soding fuck happened to my baby? She growled once more before walking swiftly to a full length mirror in the corner of her room, revealing her unashamed skin. Waving a hand carelessly at the glass before her that swayed her D cup chest, there was a moment of stillness before an image swirled into view. If time was not of the essence, she was sure a part of her would dare to try to make a Mirror, Mirror joke. Instead, the woman watched cautiously as a too big figure pulled through the shadows with a wild, long tangle of bushy black hair and beard that effectively hid most of his face. He was cradling a bundle of blankets in his vast arms.
Slowly, Lily took in the background that was behind Hagrid and horror dawned on her when she started to recognize the neighborhood.
Freya should be with Sirius… where was he?
Hagrid, who was carrying her daughter from her brother-in-law's motorcycle, before passing the bundled up babe to Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall.
"Hagrid." The man uttered out loud, relieved at the very sight of them. She snarled as she watched them go back and forth innocently, but quieted at the sight of her child. With nothing more than a blanket that was wrapped around her form and the thin onesie that she dressed the girl in before Lily died, Freya Auria Potter visibly shivered in the cool November air.
She was a beautiful babe with thick black hair that she got from her father and a skin tone that was a shade or two short of olive. Lily's heart both yearned and broke at the sight, seeing Freya's eyelashes flutter once as she settled with sleep. They set her down at the stoop that belonged to her "sister", before Albus turned abruptly away and treated it like a business deal.
"Well," said Dumbledore finally after they all stared at the babe, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations-"
A fireball tore through the air and engulfed the reflection in its rage. Freezing the image in fear as her once emeralds turned red in anger, the once Lily Potter glared in hatred.
"I'll deal with him soon enough." After all, the man wouldn't live for much longer at most and then Dumbledore's sin would hereby condemn him to her realm and she looked forward to the sheer eons of torture she would inflict upon him. He deserved nothing less for the magnitude done to her House. But first… it begged the question, where was Sirius? Another wave of her hand showed Sirius cornering Peter Pettigrew, the man who had sold her and her mortal husband to a madman.
Her head tilted curiously as she watched Peter frame Sirius for his own crime, before killing thirteen muggles and disappearing in the confusion. Sound broke through the mirror, reaching her ears in its desperation but it was a noise that was out of place in the surrounding chaos.
Laughter.
Full fledged laughter, cloaked in madness.
…Sirius Orion Black had snapped in his grief.
This poor man that they had trusted enough to be their child's godfather was now reduced to a shell of himself… and all she could do in return was watch as Aurors surrounded the man in clouds of white.
He would be taken.
Lily growled in annoyance, and wiped the mirror of magic as they read him his rights. It was, after all, an illusion. They regarded criminals as inhuman; they didn't have rights. She wiped the mirror of images as the aurors arrested Sirius.
"I'll just have to wait." She uttered to herself, annoyed that she couldn't do anything. For while she couldn't technically contact human children until they were in their teens, the blood that pulsed through Freya's veins were that of something Other. It would enable her to contact the child before the tender age of thirteen, however she would still need to wait to communicate with her babe and be understood.
For now there was much to do in preparation. She walked out the room with hellfire giving way to a long black dress, her bare feet patted on cold stone as she walked out of her chambers. Torches were alight, held away from the wall with an invisible force. A curling smile moved her plump lips before she walked delicately over to the stairs and proceeded down to the dungeon. The sight that greeted her made fire warm her belly, as hooded orbs took in the crimson dashed very much alive across the stone that darkened in spots. Age, more likely. Silence was left in it's wake.
A long, curved knife seemed to materialize in the darkness; blood dipped. The scent of it tantalized Lilith's senses with its sin. "Sastia." She uttered in a commanding tone to get the woman's attention, "You had your fun. Be a dear and wake up Samael for me first, then find me. We got work to do."
From the darkness parted a smaller, pale woman with a deranged glint in those brown orbs. Her blond hair that was curled wildly, dangerously, moved with life as she bowed silently in response.
Heavy footsteps thumped in an unrhythmic pace, echoing in small ears as a young child ran down the sidewalk of the 'normal' looking neighborhood. Loud, breathless shouts reached her ears as she forced herself not to cringe, pulling up the baggy clothes that hung on her thin frame and ran as fast as she could. She wondered briefly what this looked like to the nosy neighbors of Private Drive but decided that she didn't care much. She was only six years old but to anyone who didn't know that would bet that she was much younger. With her too skinny to be healthy frame that was rather short and practically drowning in her cousin's huge clothes, Freya Potter knew very well that everyone believed what The Dursley's told them.
Nobody saw the abuse, and if they did? They ignored all the signs. They thought that she was a troubled child. That she was a .. Freya mentally cringed, unable to even think of the word without feeling a slight pain that associated with it.. or maybe that was just coming from her broken wrist? She honestly didn't mean to turn the teacher's wig blue but she was just so upset with how the teacher was yelling at her for not knowing the answer to 'a simple math question' and was calling her stupid.
All the times that she tried to do well in school, she ended up getting hit at the place she was forced to call 'home', and so she tried to get more than half the answers wrong even if she knew them.
Pain comes from asking questions.
Pain comes from wanting mommy and daddy who died in a car crash.
Pain comes from not being fast enough to make Auntie Petunia and Uncle Vernon happy with chores.
…Freya was sick of being in pain.
She didn't get a slice of bread if her chores weren't done, shoved in her cupboard without meals for the week. It was a wonder that kept her alive. All the things that happened though, Freya thought that maybe it was magic, if there was such a thing.
'There is no such thing as magic.' Played in her head immediately in response that sounded an awful lot like Uncle Vernon, before she shook her head. She couldn't handle it any more. She was tired of it all and the first chance that she got, little Freya clutched her broken wrist to her chest and ran out of the house as fast as she could before her Uncle could do any more damage to her. She felt her right cheek become sore as the harsh early October cold weather hit it as she ran, her worn shoes holding no comfort as she ran, and the top of her arms hurt from being grabbed.. but all that Freya could feel was relief even with her injuries. Even though she had nowhere to go as it started to get darker into the evening, she was free from them..
She tried to smile at the play park that came into view after a while of running. This was where she went when the Dursley's kicked her out on some nights. It was a few blocks away from Private Drive but she doubted that they would even come looking for her, most likely hoping that she would die one way or another. Freya crawled into the plastic yellow tunnel just as the sky darkened further.
The cold temperature that surrounded her had her trying and failing to burrow into the thin material for any chance of warmth. Maybe leaving wasn't actually a good idea, but she knew she couldn't go back. The pain would be worse that way.. it always was. Uncle Vernon would be very angry..
She was on her own now.
Something crunched into the wood chips, jarring them from their peace and for a second Freya thought that they sent someone to come get her. She looked back into the darkness of the night and something inside looked back, and as she stared unflinchingly at the… ghoulish features that would have blended perfectly on Halloween; Freya Potter felt warm as darkness claimed her.
When the moment she awakened she was warm, unnaturally so. She blinked the slumber that claimed her eyes with the back of her hand before she looked upward to take in her surroundings. Fire, hot and brighter than the sun shot upwards with joy as she looked upon it. Freya diverted her gaze to the throne in front of her, confused and frightened. After all, where was she?
"Come, my child." The woman spoke softly, lovingly as she moved almost delicately down the few steps to sit gently on the floor. Her arms outstretched to cradle her like Freya had always dreamed of. She was… this woman was a Queen or something and she was sitting before her like… "Come." The woman uttered again, urging but not pushing. It was a plea, if nothing else. And yet, Freya paused unsure for a long moment as she darted her gaze around before settling on the shade of green that was so very much like her own.
Slowly, cautiously, the child dragged her feet to stand closer to her. When she saw that the older woman didn't lash out and her arms remained outstretched, Freya slowly slotted into place. The warmth of Lilith's arms cradled her much like she had before, and a soft tune was hummed to calm her. Freya paused with hooded, sleepy orbs in the woman's arms; it was comforting in a way the child had a hard time comparing too. It was almost like a-
Mama?
When Freya blinked her bright orbs opened once more, she found that her smaller than normal body had been cradled in soft black silk. She blinked once… twice… and in the room around her. ...Where?
"Would you like the technical name, or what most people would call it?"
She turned to find a beautiful woman sitting in an ornate chair, and became sheepish. There was something familiar about her that Freya couldn't place. She had no idea how to tell the woman before her that the Dursleys inflicted so much pain that it made her unable to speak, however if she could actually hear her thoughts…
...Most people, pwease?
The woman smiled at the polite child before her, revealing a set of perfectly straight, white teeth. "Most people would refer to this place as either Hell or the Underworld."
Hell? Freya questioned, the thought vibrating into the woman's mind with a pitch higher than normal with surprise.
The woman chuckled. "You don't need to worry. Hell isn't what most people imagine. But that's not what's important. Tell me sweetheart, do you know who I am?"
Freya shook her head in response, as she processed such information. She died… hadn't she? The child didn't know what to make of such a thing, maybe the Dursleys were right. She was a bad kid.
The woman smiled sadly as she stood up and walked over to kneel in front of the young girl to look her in the eye. "I am the ruler of this realm. But for a brief, at least to me, period of time, I lived as a mortal… in the mortal world. As Lily Potter… and you aren't a bad kid, sweetheart."
Freya blinked her widening eyes, and as she looked carefully at the woman, she noted her red hair and green eyes. Much like her, much like she dreamed of if she squinted hard enough past the green. …Mama?
Lily nodded with slight tears in her orbs. "Yes." She moved to the bed, sat down on the side and grabbed her daughter by the hands. "I'm so sorry that you had to spend any amount of time with Petunia. She's not even my sister, not really. I just used her mother to come into the mortal world. One day, I'll explain more to you. But now, you're old enough that I was able to bring you to me, and I intend to teach you all about the heritage you've inherited from me before you return to the mortal world." She smiled impishly then. "Don't worry my child, the powers that be will give us as much time as we need. For now, sleep. I will bring a healer in to check you."
Freya didn't want to but as Lilith rubbed a thumb over her brow, slowly and continuously, the child slept and dreamed of green eyes and warmth.
Horcrux.
That's what the healer - a dark skinned man with reggae styled dreadlocks, messy and bouncing with every step he took - said after when he analyzed the scar. He eyed the child curiously with scanning golden orbs before dropping a dark purple in her mouth. They watched as her forehead sparked with dark magic before black blood oozed out of the wound, he wiped it with a gauze cloth before seeing the wound heal from the inside out. Now a fraction of Voldemort himself snarled with dark smoke in captivity, and while Lily wouldn't be able to get her hands on the whole person yet… a piece of his soul would do for now.
Horcrux.
A fucking Horcrux, and since he was still… alive…
Fuck.
The scar that was etched upon her child healed perfectly, leaving smooth skin in its wake. That still didn't make Lilith feel all that better, wanting to pick the soul apart to find out what was at its core.
There were other problems, she glared daggers at the paper that stood to be five feet long of everything that had happened to her precious babe in just a short life. Someone is going to pay dearly for this. She would need the parchment in the future, she was sure, otherwise Lilith would have undoubtedly burnt it to smithereens. Her soulmates were all dead, the poor girl, and her succubi powers blocked. There had to be something that they could do about such things, she was sure.
However, the next task was helping Freya get settled into a routine and maybe think about what to do about a certain Azkabani.
Maybe.
Who was she kidding, really? Sirius deserved retribution almost as much as she did.
It may be time to visit him soon and see if he's in the process of making a deal with a High Demon.
Freya was in her room, playing with a snow white bear in her lap that her mommy said was all hers and-
The child brought her eyes up to meet the man before her, one of mommy's friends. His face was angled in such a way that she compared to statues in a museum, his eyes of a bright blue and hair a shade or two off of blonde. Sammy, Freya calls him, is wearing a pink and silver tiara sideways like it's a crown of glory he couldn't be bothered to fix. There was a plastic cup in front of him, empty realistically but-
Would you like more tea, Sammy?
"I would love some, Princess Freya." He uttered out loud, his tone dignified despite the situation. She laughed silently and grabbed at the empty tea pot to pour him some. The door opened just as she finished, revealing her mother and a man that was vaguely familiar beneath all the prison markings.
"Samael, if you please." Her mother nodded sideways to the door, the man in question smirking darkly at the other's gaze before bowing at the reapling to take his exit. Lily's lips curled softly in Freya's direction with reassurance before moving to follow one of her dear friends out.
"Freya…" The man spoke with a need; and when she turned her attention to him once more, those blue-silvery orbs lit up with delight. Taking one step forward before he shifted into a black dog, skinny but exactly not frail. He shifted once more, holding out a demonically marked hand in introduction… and that was how Freya was reintroduced to her godfather after one too many years of being apart from him.
The noise of the Californian ocean called a young woman away from the loud, bustling boardwalk and with the dark K-9's leash in hand, she directed the dutiful mutt over to the end of the boardwalk. As she passed the flashing lights that hit at her wayward dark hair that was streaked with the pink and purple northern lights, the young woman smiled. Dressed in black and white striped overalls that had 'Never trust the living' in bright green on the chest and a beetle and juice box icon stitched on the shorts, she ignored the whistles that she got when they realized evidence of lace, black bra poked behind the straps of her overalls. Getting to the very end of it, familiar darkness cloaked her but she knew naught to be afraid. Despite being in a different time now, Freya had long since locked eyes with the beings of darkness and made friends with it. She pulled her feet up to stand on the metallic bars and felt the wind breathe past her ears.
She closed her eyes in relish and when she opened them once more, her eyes widened at the size of the wave that curled upon the sea. She didn't know how to surfboard but... That may be a cool way to die. A snicker sounded close to her but it could have been just one of the players at the arcade, she disregarded it despite the tug that Padfoot made on his leash. She looked down at the sand over the bars before getting off her lofty perch, only to go under the top bar. She pulled the leash for 'Padfoot' to come and after a moment, he followed, his special PAWS WITH A CAUSE vest proudly displayed.
Freya smiled brightly down at him before unclipping his leash; throwing down both it and her cheap, black flip flops to run towards the ocean. Padfoot barked before she turned to see him leaping at her playfully, she gave a silent giggle at him before pushing him away when they landed in the wet sand. One of his claws scratched her arm, drawing a little dot of blood. She paid it no mind. Twirling with her hands outstretched, the dark haired beauty gave a soundless sigh in delight before splashing Padfoot. Hearing a playful growl, her body tensed before turning to run away only to pause at a shirtless group of surfers that was slowly coming towards them.
"And she said, babe." One of the men exaggerated the last word mockingly but whatever he said prior must have been funny because the rest of the idiots laughed in response. Padfoot was in front of her a second later, backing up with her to put space between them. They looked upon her and looked like they were about to say something lucid but somehow decided to sneer instead. "Ugly ass, bitch."
Freya eyed Padfoot, Did he-?
He gave her a side eye in response, letting her know all she needed to. Shaking her head, she grabbed the leash from where it lay in the sand and clip it on his vest before slipping on her shoes. I think I saw a carousel… I wonder if they will allow him on it. After a moment of deliberation, she realized that they probably wouldn't yet she found herself still drawn to the lights, the carefully displayed horses, and the sounds. On the way over to it, she eyed the 'Hells Mouth' rollercoaster with amusement and glee. Maybe one day, she thought passingly before eyeing the Carousel with longing. She went to move forward but the 'No food. No drinks. No pets.' sign stopped her cold. It didn't seem long before a sigh came from behind her, "Come on."
Padfoot instantly reacted to her arm being pulled, yet the owner backed up with his arms up in surrender with a grin fell flat at her thought. And… Woah, he's… damn. The man before her let out a snicker at… maybe the look that was on her face, let her take in his appearance as he took in her's and seemed to linger on the writing on her chest. Amusement etched on his handsome face that was framed with long and wild blond hair that showed of true rock and roll. He wore a black coat that reached his knees with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, ending at his waste-line. He wore a mesh shirt, tight, dirty white pants with a black belt, black leg-warmers on his shin, brown boots, and a few bracelets on his wrist. Dangling in his left ear was a skull connecting with a saber. Interesting… He was very interesting.
"Never trust the living." He read off with amusement, and Freya wondered why he found it so funny. "Beetlejuice. Just came out last year." Please tell me, he's not going to say it three times. His smirk curled into a gentle smile, "Do you wanna get on?" He nodded to the carousel right behind her, the music of it taunting her ears. "Come onnn, I can be very persuasive when I want to be." I bet he could, she thought in response, taking in his looks and wondering slightly deliberately what he could get her to do with that… persuasiveness. And then, something dawned on her.
He hasn't asked me to speak and he already figured out Padfoot's purpose… Maybe he already figured it out with the help of the vest. Surprisingly, no judgment. …I like this one.
After a short moment, she gently made a move to nod. One that he would have probably missed if he wasn't looking at her. He smiled brightly in response before grabbing the hand that didn't hold Padfoot's leash and pulled her along to his biker looking friends. "I'm Paul, by the way." The rocker said with a playfully hauntily smirk and Freya tried hard not to think of how cold his hand was to her.
Freya. She introduced herself within her mind on instinct before wanting to facepalm, the words coming easily to mind, Oh my fucking Goddess, he can't hear you Frey. An amused huff of a laugh caught her attention and she turned to eye one of the other blonds around her, this one looked a bit like an angel even when Freya felt amusement at the idea of ever seeing one. He had curly blond hair that twisted artfully at the top of his head only to cascade down his neck, his blue orbs twinkled with amusement and he bit his thumb as he watched her take in all the artful patches of his jacket. He jokingly spun slowly for her to take it all in.
It's custom… It has to be. Levi's… seems to be completely covered in loosely sewn in patches cut from vintage Italian tapestries, random 80's biker patches that he probably just decided he likes, misfit patches, skulls, loose threads, The warriors movie patch, two random pinup ladies and… is that a giant ass squid practically wrapped around a ship? …Huh, cute dark angel decides to dabble in squid lore… Now I've seen everything.
Whatever was said when she was 'spaced out', careful with the veil in her mind not to reveal more than she wanted to, made them all laugh gleefully. "I can see why you like her already, Paul." Another voice mocked, in an effort to draw attention to himself, which Freya freely gave. This one had longish, icy blond hair that spiked at the top but gradually calmed towards the back, making his skin probably look a shade or so darker than what it was. His blue eyes possessed a dominating glare, like he was used to speeding on motorbikes and getting whatever he wanted. He wore solid black, from head to toe, complete with a leather jacket.
…Probably the leader of the boy band. He does have that… charismatic but cold vibe going for him. His eyes, my last unholy fuck, would it kill him to let some light in there? I mean… he does have that dominating vibe and I'm probably wrong because what the fuck do I know but… Maybe dominating. Eh, I'd probably let him pop it. Goddess Damnit, what is even with me right now? …Have my hormones finally caught up with me or what?
Padfoot barked in exasperation as she visibly facepalmed, probably annoyed and David's eyes flashed slightly before introducing all of them formally. The last guy was silent, steady in a way that she didn't expect from the group. Dwayne was one of dark, luscious hair that parted slightly to the side and moved down towards his shoulders, framing his olive skin tone that she would have lowkey killed for and a claw earring of some kind in his left ear. His eyes were deep pools of brown that watched her with… something Freya couldn't possibly name. His black jacket bore what looked like an Indian cave drawing of a cheetah and paired with the necklace that looked almost shamanism… She briefly wondered about the story. His upper torso cleanly displayed underneath, taunting her mind with the sight of skin.
Hot, probably the one that I'd trust with a secret… or maybe not, he does have that underlining mischief going on. He is probably the most stable one out of the group though. Comes off as the protector, the one that watches from the sidelines and makes sure everyone gets out safe. Is he willing to get his hands dirty to do it, though?
He smiled at her assessment, feeling her interest and attraction through the wave of emotion that flowed through her. He grabbed her smaller hand and led her past the guy taking the tickets with no problem for Padfoot. Freya wondered how that worked but didn't dare say anything.
Looks like Paul isn't the only one persuasive… She thought with a smile at being confronted with all the horses. Have to try to get my thanks across later but for now… decisions, decisions. With near delirium pulsing through her veins, her arms vibrated a little with happiness before she raced away with Padfoot at her heels in an attempt to find the perfect horse to sit upon.
Behind her, the creatures of the night watched on, amused. Ever since the very moment that dog of hers scratched her, they knew who she was to them. And as entertaining as she was, there was one thing that needed to be asked, "Can we keep her?"
David looked back at Paul's jokingly asked question, only to find them all staring at him with serious eyes. "Only if she actually wants to be kept." Was the only response he could give, and winked quickly at them before he led the way to situate themselves around their mate.
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