Mamiya-a - Tumblr Blog

Playing dangerous - Mother Miranda/reader

Warning for explicit content.

Chapter 6: Admiration

Summary:

Admiration can be dangerous. If not contained it shapes into devotion and later on - worship. It's what Miranda does , it's what she has always done.

You enjoy the softness of the lips that press against yours. Maybe a little bit too much. Their gentle nature had disappeared with time, as that passionate kissing started a while ago, and now you feel roughly claimed by them over and over again. You don't mind it when they descend down to your chin and begin to place uncalculated nips on your skin. 

A few bites along your jaw make your body tense, one tender kiss below your ear manages to relax you though and you perceive it as a warning before you feel sharp teeth connecting with your neck. 

You groan quietly, unsure if you should focus on that feeling or the hands that are firmly holding your waist, two thumbs lazily shaping circles on the sides of your stomach, adding pressure to the burning feeling in your abdomen.

Your eyes move down, as they were regarding the ceiling till now, and your gaze fixes on the woman on top of you, her face is hidden in your neck , busy delivering tons of love bites there. However you recognise the colour and texture of her golden hair, you could never mistake it. 

You moan out her name , the sound of it rolls off your tongue perfectly, and she moves to bite on your shoulder, her force is almost unbearable. Her answer if she likes it or not is vaguely enough, so you repeat your actions. This time she releases your skin from her piercing teeth and instead drags her long, wet tongue along your neck , tasting sweet blood in the process. She loves it. 

You don't seem to be tied up , yet you're unable to move your hands ,or any part of your body in that regard. It's like she's holding you down with an invisible force. You're not mad because all you can do is whimper and take everything she's giving you ,but because you cannot touch her the way she's touching you. 

You find yourself craving for her , as your back sinks into the mattress. She's careful, she's strong and she's the one in control, so naturally you allow yourself to try and do the only thing that can possibly force her to switch sides. You beg. 

Surprisingly enough she listens and obeys. Your fingers twitch as you try to move your hands up again and finally - you wrap them around her body. Your back shift and you manage to sit up , with the woman calmly placed in your lap. You shove your head in the crook of her neck , nose tracing along her tender skin. You close your eyes , breathing in her sweet scent. 

She chuckles playfully when you flip her over so now you're on top of her. Both of you decide not to waste any time and crash your lips together again. Kissing her feels right, like you two belong to eachother, like the curves of her lips are specifically made for yours. 

She is in fact disappointed when you suddenly part away from her , leaving her heated lips aching for more of yours. But you have other plans. You straighten your back and give her a smirk, enjoying the confusion written on her face. 

Then you widen your eyes as you miss to notice her hand coming up , behind your head, and firmly grabbing the hair on your nape. She pulls back roughly, licking her lips at your now fully exposed neck. Her mouth parts , ready to devour your skin like a predator. 

You take the advantage of her upper body ascending, which you use to push her shoulders and pin her back down to the mattress. She grunts as you sit right on top of her stomach, limiting the freedom of her movements. Though her eyebrows furrow in frustration, she can't help the daring smile urging on her face. 

You return her gesture, while your fingers slip under the straps of her nightgown, and you slowly, almost painfully, slide them down her shoulders until you've had completely bared her chest.  

You gently brush away the locks of hair that are distracting you, making them fall behind her shoulders. Her breasts are nicely shaped , round and soft, they fit perfectly in your palms when you grab them. And she bites her lower lip as your thumbs begin to brush against and tease her nipples , her back slightly arched to give you more access.

You're too invested in admiring her chest to acknowledge the fingertips running down your stomach. The feeling is nice , the slow scratching from her nails on your skin. Even when she fully drags them with enough force to gather flesh underneath them. She does it with no care for your now bleeding abdomen. 

The coldness of the ring on her left hand burns you right before she shoves it deep in your abdomen, ripping apart skin , muscles and you're almost certain - organs. You don't mind the pain , you care bare with it , as long as it's from her. 

You press yourself against her completely, while clenching your jaw. Her body is warm, at least that distracts you from the feeling of her hand traveling up your body , from the inside. You can feel her fingers clearing a path of vital organs. 

Thich blood drips on top of her. She doesn't care. You beg her to stop. She doesn't listen. And then you realise she's going to kill you, right as her hand rips apart your lungs and you begin to cough, liquid with metallic taste filling your mouth. 

"It hurts ,stop..."- you whisper out , blood rolling down from the corners of your mouth , she only chuckles , her fingers wrapped around your fast beating heart - "you're hurting me!" 

"I enjoy it."- how can her eyes sparkle in a moment like that? 

"Stop it, it's killing me!" - you manage to scream right before she squeezes your heart and you feel your body weak , completely at her mercy, your eyes lift to take a look at her face and you find her smiling from ear to ear. At that moment you decide to give up , positioning your head on her bare chest ,you whisper slowly before closing your eyes - "you're killing me , Miranda" 

The woman demolishes your heart with one final, firm squeeze, allowing darkness to take you completely. 

*****

You wake up flushed and sweaty, panting and awfully embarrassed. You try your best to ignore the blood rushing through your cheeks and the throbbing feeling between your thighs. You don't even want to think about how much this dream turned you on. 

It's inappropriate. To have these lewd thoughts about Miranda. Your boss , who is rude and mean , who is a mother , who is much older than you, who is.... a woman. You've never felt so... attracted to a person from the same gender before. 

Admiration. You like to think of it as admiration, as she is truly a gorgeous woman. She might be the most beautiful lady you've ever seen. She is just so-

No, it's wrong. All of this. God , how can you dream about such things when you have a boyfriend, for which you almost forgot about..., but you feel guilty, and ashamed. 

Especially when you notice you're not in your room but instead in Miranda's. You're glad that she's not here with you at least. 

Her bed is massive and unbelievably soft , it feels like lying on a literal cloud. Her scent is all over it , it creaks from the sheets, from the pillows , from the blankets. The sweet smell of her perfume fills your nose and you resist the urge to loose yourself to it.

One weird thing about her bed is that it's covored in feathers. Not a lot , but spread around the covers mindlessly, black and long , soft to the touch - you note after testing them with your fingers. 

She must have a down pillow that is possible torn...or maybe she owns birds. They would make cute pets. You decide to ask her about it later. 

For now the more important question in your head is - how and why exactly are you in her room, waking up in her bed? 

As you try to remember what exactly happened last night you grab your head , suddenly feeling an approaching headache. You groan in both pain and annoyance. This family will end you. 

You can recall memories from going down in that awful basement, Miranda screaming at you, threatening you, hurting you...then you vaguely remember having a fight with Eveline - over what you're not sure. 

Running....and then - nothing. Darkness, that's the memory. And yet , it doesn't explain how you ended up in Miranda's bedroom. 

The door creaks as you open it and you grit your teeth at the dull sound, it's early, even if Miranda was up, as she's obviously not in her room, her kids are probably still asleep. 

You walk quietly down the hall to your own room and as soon as you get in, you head to the bathroom, feeling terribly dirty. The warm water calms your nerves and manages to purify your mind and body. 

You emerge from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, and brushing your teeth, wet strands of hair clinging to your shoulders as you make your way to your bed, leaving wet footprints on the floor.

Guilt creeps its way into your heart as you check your phone and see several unread messages from your boyfriend , asking you out to see each other. You sigh, feeling even more terrible, telling him you're busy.

Even if you see that he was active a few minutes ago - he does not answer. 

You resist the urge to call him, knowing he most likely won't pick up. You wished it was easier, this impractical relationship between you was getting worse and worse as time went on. 

You want it to be like before, when you were both happy...if that happiness even existed at all. 

*****

The mansion feels different, somehow more cozy and bright. Maybe it's because of the new curtains you noticed on the windows ,or because of the change in the paintings, you can't tell if their position is different or if they are completely new painted faces, but you find them comforting. 

Just as you guessed the girls are nowhere to be seen downstairs. It makes you feel a little more comfortable, due to the fact that you want to talk to Miranda alone, and the woman is enough of a challenge on her own. 

Passing by her office, you notice that the door is open and the room is empty, she's not in the living room neither, it's too early for her to be busy with God knows what kind of work in that creepy basement, so you decide to look for her in one of her other rooms favorite places.

And right in the kitchen you find her, her tall figure is leaning over the counter, and her eyes are focused on a colorful book open in her hands, one of her fingers neatly traces the writing along the lines.

You realize it's a recipe book, and she looks ready for baking, one of her favourite hobbies after...her other interests, whatever they are. Her blonde hair is tied up high so it doesn't get in her way, and her normally sophisticated clothes are now down to a simple, homely outfit. 

It takes her a little time to notice you, or rather to pay attention to you, because your room entering isn't exactly difficult to notice, especially for her. You hate the way she looks at you , from beneath her eyelashes , as if you are someone she admires. 

"Morning" - and you specifically detest the way she speaks to you, her voice is either harsh and demanding or melancholic and gentle as it is now. And you hate how much you're loving it. 

"Good morning, Miranda" - it feels weird to look at her without cringing or making a grimace, as every detail of her face reminds you of your dream, you force yourself to quickly snap out of these throughs - "hey , i wanted to talk with you about-"

"Can't it wait?" - she closes the recipe book and shoves it away , safely in a upper drawer. Then she opens another and pulls out a large , transparent bowl - "I'm in the middle of baking, as you can see" - she wasn't, in fact she was just starting - "and if you're not planning on helping, darling-"

"Oh i can help" - you quickly cut her off , surprising both of you. You didn't let her finish because you knew she was going to kick you out of her beloved kitchen, so you decided to act rapidly and suggest help , hoping she can finish faster and listen to your ranting - "No worries."

As she gives you a slight smile , unsure if she's actually willing to accept your help or not, you can feel your body growing weird. As the reason stands right in front of you. Since when does she call you darling? 

"Fine then" - she tosses the bowl to you, while turning on her heel to open the fridge and take out a few things from there - "we're making cookies" 

She puts various products on the counter in front of you, you can distinguish butter, flour, eggs, sugar, salt...preparing everything she needs for the recipe. 

Miranda guides you by telling you to firstly place the butter in the bowl. Then she measures exactly how much sugar she has to add. She gets mad when she can't perfectly match the 200 grams she needs. 

"Does it have to be that precise?" - you laugh at her and the pouting of her lips. 

"I'm keen on perfecting" - her response makes you chuckle even more.

She grabs a wooden spoon and stirs the mixture until it's smooth and soft, then the woman tells you to add an egg, and as you do so she pours a small spoonful of vanilla into the bowl, the sweet aroma of it fills the kitchen with a pleasant smell.

She then adds flour and salt to the mix. You allow her to wrap her hands around your waist and swiftly move you to a side in order to grab something from a drawer you were limiting the access to. She could just ask you to move or simply order you to pass the baking powder , but you find no reason to complain about her gentle touch and tender fingers. 

"Now what?" - you ask , as the mix in the bowl is finally ready, after lots of stirring to make it this soft and well put together. 

"You have to knead the dough until it's nice and smooth" - she explains while washing her hands and along with them the many used utensils. 

"Right..."

You have no idea how to do that. You try your best , rolling and smashing it around but it's form stays the same and you grunt in frustration. Your body tenses. You hate to do something poorly, you're not a perfectionist like Miranda yet you still get angry when you can't achieve something by the first try. 

Speaking of that evil woman you can't help but feel exposed by her awful staring. Her dark, blue eyes burn hoes in your inexperienced hands as she watches you struggle. You give her a sharp look, she grins. You huff, turning the dough around, getting angry when it sticks to the kitchen counter. 

She laughs at you. The audacity-

"Something funny?" - you snap at her , both of you deciding to not pay lots of attention to your insolent tone. 

"You're doing it wrong, darling" 

"Oh well then , please, show me" - you grow angry and hit the counter with your palm , smashing some of the dough in the process - "I'd be delighted to know how's the right way to do it" 

The corners of Miranda's lips curl up and she stands behind you, you try to move away in order to give her space but she doesn't see you as an obstacle, her body presses into yours and pushes you forward until your hips hit the end of the counter and her hands trail around either side of your body , grabbing the dough in her thin fingers. 

She sprinkles a handful of flour on the surface of the furniture, then gently spreads the dough over it. Well, she obviously didn't tell you to do that. 

Due to the difference in your height, it is uncomfortable for her to stand above you, so you are not annoyed when she puts her chin on your shoulder, as her chest presses completely to your back. 

The movements of her hands, of her nimble, dexterous fingers seem to hold you in a chokehold, making you remember the feeling of those same hands on your heated body from your dream, it's unreal how weak she makes your knees feel. 

And then she grabs your hands in hers, in order to show you how to knea the dough correctly. She's so gentle with her touch it makes your mind foggy. And you can't help the burning feeling in your cheeks as she continues to guide your movements. 

Her white knuckles are on full display, moving along her popping out from beneath pale skin veins , and rapid digits , that work together with yours. The dough shapes nicely under your combined hands and soon it's rolled in a perfect rectangle , no thicker than two centimetres. 

The only thing you don't seem to enjoy is the shiny ring on her left hand. No matter how much you pretend to ignore it, it spins before your eyes like a bewitching firefly. You hate it. 

"Focus , girl" - she warns you, pulling you out of your trance like state, and you fail to realise she has been giving you instructions till now - "I don't plan on repeating myself" 

"Sorry..." - if you had to list the things she used to distract you with, you would start with her warm breath wandering tenderly around your neck. 

She mumbles something under her breath and pulls away from you, leaving you slightly disappointed. You can clearly recognise the tensed anger in her body by her hurried movements as she cuts round shapes from the dough. 

"What kind of jam do you like?" - she asks , freshly done with putting the cookies in the oven. 

"What kinds do you have?" 

"Any. Name your favourite" - part of you forgot how filthy rich that woman is. Of course she's going to have every jam on the market, it was stupid to even ask.

"I suppose... raspberry is fine?" - you sound like you're asking a question rather than answering one but she seems pleased. Not so long after that she places a filled jar with fresh raspberry jam on the counter, making you smile , for what reason exactly you're not sure. 

The kitchen grows with silence as you wait for the cookies to bake. You play with your fingers nervously while staring at Miranda , wondering if now it's a good time to talk to her. You're alone, after all, with plenty of time to kill. 

You call out for her before speaking , to make sure she listens. 

"What exactly... happened last night?" - only by trying to remember a headache approaches you with a sickening pain. 

"You blacked out, that's it" - she answers simply, though she doesn't look very bothered by that topic you just can't miss the tiny shine of guilt in her eyes. 

"For what reason?" - her lips stitch as she drags a nails along the counter surface. 

"I believe you managed to fall down the stairs" - she then adds, quietly, making it more believable- "at least what's where i found you."

"Did I?" - you ask confused, not remember stairs at all. 

"I don't consider you blind, darling. And I'm pretty sure you know how to use a mirror" - she points to a small one on the kitchen wall- "why not take a look here?"

She taps on your forehead and for some reason - it hurts you awfully bad, sending a shock wave through your body. 

The bruise on your forehead doesn't stand large when you look at it in your reflection. It's not even as noticeable as Miranda makes it out to be. But what worries you is its colour - pitch black. Bruises don't look like that.

And...if you had really fallen down the stairs, shouldn't you have had painful marks on your body, and not just on your forehead, even if you had fallen on your head? 

"After your incident I carried you to bed" - she explains, as if automatically, cutting you off before you can ask her for more details. But what? She carried you to bed? Even Miranda looks shocked of herself and quickly adds - "after i made sure you were okay, no need to thank me." 

You tilt your head , caughting her gaze for just a second before she clears her throat and moves to look at the cookies, purposely ignoring you. Huh?

"Why in your room, Miranda?" - she's suffering from her own mistakes right now , and you're loving it. To have the chance to actually success in embarrassing her gives you the feeling of power over her cold nature. 

"Mine was just ...closer" - this might be the first thing she says to you, without sounding entirely sure about. You grin at her.

"Where did you sleep then?" - she couldn't possibly allow herself to curl next to you, despicable the large bed she owns. 

"I didn't" - she looks too serious to be saying that. It makes you giggle. 

"Yeah right, am i to believe you just stared at me all night like a...a creepy vampire of some sort?"

"Perhaps" - she does not know how to take a joke , as her tone grows cold and serious again, killing the mood. Well your mood , since hers hasn't changed much.

"I was-"

"The cookies are done." 

Your eyes shift to the oven and you find yourself enjoying the golden colour they have acquired. Miranda is a good cook , you have no doubt that the cookies will taste amazing. You wait impatiently for her to take them out of the oven.

But she never does. Instead of turning to the left, where the already cooling stove is , she heads to the right - towards you. Your breath hitches as she grips the counter with two careful hands, on either side of your body, locking you an inescapable cage. 

"What are you..." 

"It there's something i hate more than being awaken in the middle of the night" - she presses herself to you almost completely, forcing you to move backwards and you shiver when you acknowledge there's no space left between your body and hers , she stands tall above you and you have to lift your head to look at her , you wouldn't mind if it wasn't for her own hand guiding your chin up - "is being awaken in the middle of the night by my daughter crying." 

Your heart is beating fast, threatening to jump out of your chest at any given moment. You're mad because you know Miranda can feel it, feel your fear. Though you can only wish to be scared at a moment like that. Your mind occupied by far more different feeling. 

Admiration is dangerous, it can easily shapes into devotion and from there - to worship. Miranda knows this very well , it's what she does , it's what she has always done. 

"In case you've failed to realise" - she whispers, awfully close to your ear, her voice is anything but gentle , yet you can't pretend her hot breath does not effect you - "I'm demanding an explanation."

"I had a fight with Eveline..." - you confess, trying hard not to look in her eyes , or her whole face on that matter. 

"Over what exactly?"

"That's the thing!" - you squirm around, trying to escape her, ignoring the slight press from her leg to yours, a warning - "I can't remember, maybe it has something to do with my black out"

You know you sound unconvincing, yet you try to your best to get an explanation for both of you. Miranda, plays along, humming in approval. And just as her lips part to say another thing, you stop her by grabbing her by the waist and pushing her back as hard as you can. She's as solid as a rock and you miserably fail. 

However now ,you're definitely experiencing fear. Not from Miranda, but from the little girl with golden hair you caught to pass by the kitchen with the corner of your eye. You can't allow Eva to get the wrong idea of the situation.

Even though when you think about it , you can't find anything that sits right with Miranda's actions. 

"Let go , let me go" - you push her back again, your fingers sinking into her waist with little to no care , and to your surprise she takes a step back. You then lean to whisper, trying to convince her completely - "your daughter is right there, please"

She releases you before you can add another word to your sentence. She doesn't bother to check for any noisy girls behind her. Instead she works on taking the cookies out of the oven , placing the jam on them and shoving them quickly in your arms. 

"Go, apologies" - she urges you out of the kitchen,both of you walking to totally different paths - she goes straight to her office while you...walk slowly to the living room. 

*****

The two girls are sitting comfortably on the large sofa in the living room, engrossed in some movie on the television. You walk calmly, trying not to startle them in any way, while you think about exactly how to apologize to Eveline...or more precisely, for what, since you have no idea what you two were fighting about.

When you put the cookies on the table in front of them, the black-haired girl raises her head, her gaze is piercing. And almost instantly followed by her sister's. They look at you as if you are a sinner, a foreigner in their house. 

You quickly understand that your little problem with Eveline has spread not only to Miranda but also to Eva, which both didn't like you very much anyway. Caught under their sharp eyes, you feel like a rabbit being chased by wolves.

"Eveline, can i have a talk with you?" - you decide to be straight forward, no need to be scared of children. 

"Talk now" - she orders. You swallow hard, the girl is not looking at you anymore, yet her sister's gaze does not leave you, keeping you under her strict watch.

"Look i.. I'm sorry for what i said" - you have no idea what you actually said - "i do regret it..." 

Lying is wrong, but much easier than real talk and excuses. Eveline takes the bait. 

"You called me crazy!" - her sister gasps and places her palm on the black haired girl's shoulder, while she points accusingly at you. 

"How dare you?" - Eva looks very disappointed, you can even say mad. 

"I'm really sorr-"

"Do you know how offensive that is?" - Eva continues to defend her sister.

"I know, i know" - you begin to apologise again - "can't we just forgive and forget?" 

Eveline, who has been quiet for the meantime, looks at the direction of the cookies and lifts an eyebrow. 

"Are those for us?" - her tiny finger points at them and you grab the bowl , offering some to both girls. You wait nervously for them to taste them, to rate them , to decide your fate. 

You're definitely lucky because when the two girls look at each other, they both can't help but smile. They love the cookies . You secretly send thanks to Miranda for this. 

"You're forgiven" - Eveline assures you as she goes for another cookie , making you sigh in relief - "but do not forget what i said to you - you do not belong here , and now...i truly can't help you. 

*****

Even if Miranda tries to keep you in her house with fake proximity, even if her kids were well-behaved for the rest of the day, even if the nightmares were replaced by...a different kind of dream, you don't feel happy at all , in fact you feel scared and disconnected from the family. 

The urge to stay calm and put in this mansion dies with every passing minute. While the wish to leave grows. 

For your own good and health. You can find another job, it won't pay as nearly as good as that one but... you just can't. You can't hold the fact that you don't remember anything from last night buried in yourself anymore. 

And you're sure you didn't just blacked out from nothing. It has never happened to you before. 

Everytime you try to bring back memories your head starts to hurt like crazy , you feel cursed , you feel sick , you feel like a walking corpse. 

Waiting in front of  death's door, demanding mercy. 

However this time you do not wait for answer, you step into Miranda's office before her ringing voice can invite you in , hoping you won't regret such a decision later. 

"You should have knocked" - she's too busy reading her spread around the desk documents to even lift her head to greet you - "don't make me take you back to make your entrance proper." 

Gosh , she's such a mom. 

"Didn't feel like knocking" - you have no idea where's this bravery to talk back to her is coming from , but you're not mad at all - "if you desire so badly to be left alone, you might just lock your door"

At your suggestion, she lifts an eyebrow, looking at you from behind her eyelashes, still not moving her head, only her gaze. 

"I see that morning attitude is coming back to you" - you can't decide if she likes or hates it - "close the door and say what you need" 

The door slams almost instantly. Miranda shakes her head, strongly suppressing the urge to hit you with something from her desk, something heavy.

"When are you going to pay me?" - money , all you need is money. 

Miranda idly looks at the calendar on her wall. It looks chronically unused. Not only is the date wrong, but even the month. She doesn't seem to care. 

"By the end of next week" - She gets a notification on her open computer, one look at the screen makes her grimace. 

"Fine" - you say , taking a deep breath which causes your nostrils to flare - "one more week and I'm leaving. You'll pay what you owe me and then I'm out of here" 

Miranda scoffs. 

"You can't" 

"I can't?" - You don't realize when you've moved to her desk, or how your hands now rest roughly on its surface. Being so close, you can easily observe out the slight furrowing of her brows, as she is already getting annoyed -"I don't feel good here , I don't feel sane around you or your children, i told you-"

"Yes, and i gave you pills" - she tries to stay calm , though her hands are already forming into fists. 

"Your fucking pills don't work!" - you can't help but scream at her , she tilts her head with a smile , trying to be as still as possible - "and I don't think that black out from yesterday happened for no reason" 

You've spent enough time, lost in through, to reach the conclusion that Miranda might have tried to drug you. 

"How dare you" - she lets out a whisper, low enough for it to not fully reach your ears , then she leans back in her chair - "You're a fool" 

"Call me whatever you want , but next week I'm leaving" - you point a threatening finger to her face - "and you cannot make me stay here another day" 

Normally you like it when she chuckles, but as she does it now, the desire to wipe the smile off her face forms quickly in your heart, traveling at drastic speed to your hand , which fingers tremble, trying to compose themselves. 

"And you're definitely more than a fool to believe that you can actually leave."

"Excuse me?" - you feel your mouth going dry. 

"Perhaps you have forgotten about the contract you signed , not so long ago" - she leans down, the sound of a drawer opening echoes through the room, and then she rises, placing a piece of paper on the desk in front of you - "I don't mind reminding you about it" 

You follow her thin finger along the text of the paper, and swallow, actually able to taste anger from your tensed body, when it stops at a specific sentence , which had failed to caught your attention the first time you saw thay document. 

"You agreed to work for me for at least a year" -she explains for you, the contract does not say exactly a year, nor specific months, but a large number of days, Miranda just rounds it to a year. She then moves her finger lower and you shiver as she taps on the text there - "your signature" 

"Can't i cancel the contract?" - your voice is trembling, as you stare at the white paper , containing your voluntarily given signature, oh how foolish you were. 

"Of course you can" - she smiles, adding fake empathy to her tone - "However you don't have the money for that darling, you'll end up owing more debt than you already do.

You try to fight back, but your tongue tangles and you can only make a low, squeaky sound in your defense, looking so pathetic that her smile evaporates. 

"Stay here and work for me" - she drags the contract away from you and you tense up , it's like she's locking your free will in a cage , as she puts the paper back in her drawer - "get your money and then go wherever you want , feel free to sue me, try and put me in prison if you wish, but for now you'll stay put and obey me, understand?" 

"You..." - bitch. You want to scream at her , to rip that stupid paper to shreds and run away. Prison is definitely not enough for her , though you doubt she can even end up in such place , rich people like Miranda never do, she'll win no matter what , you have no choice but to play her game - "I hate you." 

"I'm sure you do" - there's a proud smirk on her face and she brushes a hand over the base of her neck and collarbone, making her silver necklace rustle around -"I'm also guessing you'd like to try and choke me to death with your bare hands. That's okay, you're not the first person to think of that" 

She says it like it's nothing, too calmly. Before you can gather your thoughts and talk back to her, the door to her office opens and she leans to one side, poking her head out from behind your body, which is still towering over her desk, to see clearly who's in the doorway. 

"Eva, love,how many times have I told you to knock before entering?" 

You watch carefully as the irritation in Miranda's eyes turns to solicitude for her daughter. The girl is more than capable of bringing her soft side on clear view. 

"Sorry..." - Eva urges to apologise, her gaze falling upon you. She's confused as why you are in her mother's office. You feel out of place. 

"Do you need anything?" - Miranda stands up, moving swiftly past you , in order to get to Eva. She tenderly pats her head and her face shines up with the large smile she puts on. 

The little girl explains she's struggling with a few questions from the things Miranda makes them study and she , as the smart woman she is, is more than happy to help her younger daughter. 

The door closes behind them , as they leave you completely alone in the office. You waste no time in moving behind Miranda's desk, rapidly opening every drawing, in search for that contact. 

It doesn't take you long to find it , nor to squeeze it deep in your pocket. Miranda gets another notification from her laptop, you don't pay it much attention. 

You're busy thinking about something else. Miranda is an intelligent woman, she has certainly made copies, you wonder if the contract she showed you isn't one of them. Leaving you alone in the room, which holds the key to your freedom sounds too easy. 

So you dive in another hunt for documents. Yet another notification from the laptop disturbs you, and another. After a few more you get fed up and stand up to look who's so fiercely demanding Miranda's attention. 

The laptop is unlocked and surprisingly open to a a texting chat. You raise an eyebrow while reading the messages. 

You're ignoring me again. 

I hate it when you do that. 

The first two are from early this morning, while the others following them are freshly new. 

It's my fault, I'm sorry. 

Stop ignoring me.

Just respond, please. 

Please, Miranda. 

I miss you. 

Your lips part to release one silent, quick gasp. Then you look up to see who's texting Miranda so eagerly. There's no picture to the contract, only a name. Mia Winters. 

"Mia..."- you whisper-"Who the hell is Mia?"

Your curiosity is massive. This might be the most interesting thing Miranda can reveal of herself. And you're so ready to use it against her , if you can , of course. 

You notice that she has been mostly ignoring the other woman. Not responding to her for quite some time , a few months to be precise. But as you scroll up the chat, diving into old messages, you can't help but raise your eyebrows in disbelief. 

Their chats can't even be called conversations. All all they discuss is where and when to meet. It is periodic and you quickly realise their relationship is more of an affair rather than something else. 

You scroll a bit more and you're forced to pause. As you see rather provocative pictures Miranda has sent to the unknown woman. Their number is greater than it should be. She is not naked in any of them, but the revealing clothes she is wearing , the angles and poses in which she was photographed herself certainly awaken a familiar warmth in your body, or more precisely in between your legs.

Curse that woman for being so damn alluring. 

As if enchanted by the photos, you can't seem to stop looking at them. Almost feeling like this Mia person herself, due to her messages mainly being praises and encouragements to Miranda.

Then a video pops up. It's old, probably from last year, you cannot see much from it , as it's taken somewhere severely dark. You click it. 

You can't recognise even her silhouette in such darkness. However you quickly notice it's not supposed to be for watching, but instead for hearing and enjoying sound. As soon as you hear the first, weak , and quiet whimper from the video - you scroll down immediately to the end of the chat and back away from the laptop. Your cheeks are on literal fire. 

That kind of intimacy is not meant for you. Though you never imagined Miranda in such light. 

The door opens, causing you to move away from her desk. You both decide not to discuss why she found you behind it and not in your original spot.

"Have you decided?" - she asks , already taking her seat in the comfortable chair behind the wooden desk. One glance at the laptop's screen prompts her to turn it off, ignoring the messages. Part of you really wanted to see how she would respond. 

"On what?" 

"Are you sane enough to stay here , darling?" - you aren't , but you'll manage, maybe long enough to think of a revenge plan to use against Miranda. 

"One year?" - you try to make her at least that information is certain. 

"At least a year , yes." - she assures you. 

"Fine" - you cross your arms in front of your chest-"I'll play by your rules Miranda."

One year in hell - and then you'll be free.

Playing dangerous - Mother Miranda/reader

Warning for explicit content.

Chapter 5: Secrets

Summary:

Your nightmares finally come to life (or simply said - you get a lobotomy)

The ringing notes of death are alluring. 

At least that's how you perceive the pounding as if coming from the core of the earth. With each step the floor beneath your feet feels more and more unstable, causing you to lose your balance and almost fall several times. 

But that melody keeps on bewitching you, pulling you closer to itself, withdrawing you to it's cold embrace. The sounds are not beautiful, you can even describe them as terrifying - scratching, snorting, shouting, even soft crying. All this merges into a loud symphony, in an invisible thread pulling you through the rooms of the mansion. And you follow it blindly. 

Black darkness drips down on your shoulders, makes you bend your back forward, ruining your posture, your heart throbs rapidly, threatening to escape the prison of your weak ribcage , your lungs are full of that poisonous darkness- it makes you gasp for air. Your legs are barely able to keep moving you forward. Your body feels like a complete liquid as you continue to walk. 

You feel like nothing and everything at the same time. 

Nightmare or reality - this insane circle of inexplicable phenomena has finally managed to bite off a large piece of your psyche, and totally lock you in its prison.

Quiet, whispering voices convince you that even if you pray for salvation - the gods are deaf, unresponsive to prayers. You don't even try. There is something nice and familiar about the darkness, almost...soothing.

These thoughts are not yours.

You realize this only after you recognize the stairs to the basement, when you pass through the strangely unlocked and open door, when the smell of blood hits your nose, and you shiver, but not from fear. Excitement, but for what? What are the monsters louring you into this hell excited for? 

Suddenly the melody that was leading you into the cold basement until a moment ago dies away, leaving only a soft , low-pitched sobbing coming from somewhere behind the walls. It dances through your skin, caresses your bones, and plunges right into your heart, making you clutch your chest in sickening pain.

By listening more carefully, you discover that it is not only crying, but silent prayers, begging for redemption, for help, all together with other unrelated sentences. The voice is so close. Where? 

The basement is too dark to see show a clear answer, but after a few hasty turns you notice a faint light. It comes from under the door Miranda came out of when you made the mistake of coming here a few hours ago.

However your next move is an even worse mistake than that. 

The door quickly opens to reveal the chamber behind it. The room is neither too big nor small, despite the fact that there are enough lamps on the ceiling - only one shines with a weak light. Revealing almost nothing of the…

Laboratory, a real fancy one, the unused, old looking one in the previous room is nothing compared to this one - that must be her real laboratory. You've been in enough to recognize some of the equipment and devices. Miranda had mentioned that her job is connected to science , however...what exactly was she doing down here to defend it so blithely? 

You're quick to get your answer. 

Your eyes meet someone else's in one of the dark corners of the room. You look over there so quickly that you almost don't notice the metal cage standing still there, or the dark, hunched figure inside. 

A loud rumble echoes through the air as the person inside grips the metal bars of the cage tightly. It happens so fast that it makes you jump in fear. 

"Help me!" - the man from insane screams. He look... rather familiar, but the darkness of the room is taking advantage of the lack of light and it covers most of his features. 

You're too stunned to speak , as you continue to stare at the begging for help man , he manages to move even forward, pressing his face between the bars , making you notice the tear stains on his cheeks, the dark eyebags under his eyes , his slim face and dry lips. He looks like a fresh corpse. 

"You're not with her , are you?" - he asks , a little nervous, his widened eyes move around, observing everything they can reach - "You've got to help me , please" 

"How- Why are you here...?"- your finger lifts up to point at the cage , as you do that you also pay attention to his body and clothes - he's awfully skinny, what he wears stays like a bag on him - clearly much larger than his usual size , some of the fabrics are ripped, revealing purple-blue spots on the skin - a sign that he hasn't been moving a lot for a while. 

"It was that hideous woman!" - he trails his nails on the metal , almost making them bend backwards as he does - "she locked me here , she-" 

"Miranda?" - you cut him off , breathlessly. 

The man shivers upon hearing her name and that's when it hits you. A few weeks ago , when Miranda left for "work" and she returned late at night, accompany by a strange , awfully drunk man. That has to be him. 

"I've... forgotten her name , i can't remember much , i-" - he grabs his head , in attempt to bring back memories - "her face, I can't even picture it , yet...it terrifies me" 

You also think Miranda is scary and sometimes downright disturbing, but seeing the effect she has as just a faint memory in this man's head makes you feel completely vulnerable to her. The fact that you're in the same house as her right now is prompting you to run away. 

"She stays-" - the man coughs, clutching his throat , as he points somewhere behind you, his thin finger trembling - "she stays there, where I can't see her fully...she watches as i , as i... slowly die" 

"What?" - you ask , unable to decide if your tone is worried or frightened. 

"I'm not a good person, I'm not"- the man grabs his face , his fingers dip somewhere close below his eyes , making them pop out just the slightest - "I've ruined families, I've... made mothers cry , I've.. brought sadness to fathers... death to children, but i-" 

"What are you talking about?!" 

"But I- do not deserve such punishment, no" - he drags his fingers down his cheeks, leaving dark bloody marks behind -"yet she...she said she has no mercy, as she's no god" 

You can't decide if it's the man or Miranda who's absolutely insane. Maybe both , or maybe it's your mind playing tricks on you again. You take a step back , he doesn't move , you take another one back and he gives you a glare. 

"I'll call the police" - you inform him, searching for your phone inside your pockets - "I'll get help , i promise you" 

He clinges at the bars yet again, this time the man jumps so quickly it's almost animalistic. 

"Please, don't leave" - he pushes his arm through the little space of the bars and he starts to move it around rapidly, in a desperate attempt to reach you - "Save me! I beg you, please-" 

A loud cracking sound echoes through the room and immediately after it the man starts screaming. Your breath hitches when you see his arm bent to one side, completely broken. Surprisingly to you, he somehow manages to get it inside the cage, through much whining, but it looks like it's not the first bone he's broken.

"I'm dying, I'm dying.... I'll die tonight" - he whispers, as blood begins to drop from his eyes down his cheeks, making it's way to his slightly parted lips - taste of death , that blood is not his , this pain does not belong to him-"both of us will." 

His last sentence is lost in the chilly air as you've already ran away from that basement. 

***** 

The heavy drops of sudden rain outside echo like bullets through the quiet room of the sleeping girl. You pity her - young, innocent, unaware of her mother's cruelty. You almost feel bad as you awaken her. 

"Eveline?" -you gently shake her shoulder in an attempt to snap her out of her dreams. 

The girl's expression changes into a annoyed one as she purses her lips, but her eyes remain closed and she moves slightly to a side , her dark hair covers her visage as she does so.

"Eveline!" - you repeat, a little louder , yet your hope for her to wake up die as she murmurs something and turns completely around, fully ignoring you. 

You don't have time for that. You have to awaken Eva as well. You want nothing more but to escape, yet you fear the guilty feeling about leaving those kids behind will haunt you like the memory of this awful place. 

You shake her shoulder again and this time you get lucky - her eyes snap open and she sits up in her bed. 

"What..?"- she asks in a confused tone, her body language hinting she's not used to someone waking her up. 

"Get your things , we have to go" - you order her while taking a few steps back , your eyes shift to the corridor and you stare at Miranda's closed bedroom door. You're almost disappointed that you won't be here to see her getting arrested. 

"To where?" - Eveline questions with her head tilted, her small hands are rubbing her eyes as she tries to fully wake up. 

"Somewhere far away" - to be honest, you aren't sure as well , you thought of taking the kids to your old house , however it's condition is not the best , it might actually be necessary to stay in a hotel - "hurry, we have to get your sister as well"

"Why?" - your heart skips a beat when she suddenly appears right next to you, her footsteps completely silent - "Does mother know about any of this?" 

"Miranda, she-" - it's unbelievable how you still feel stiff by only speaking her name, as you look down at the curious little girl - you run short of words. How are you supposed to explain the situation to her exactly?-"your mother is not a good person, Eveline. And I'm taking you away from her" 

The girl stands motionless, eyes as if blind, while she blinks slowly, devoid of emotions. She doesn't react even when you put your hand on her shoulder. 

"No"- she whispers, as she finally moves , unfortunately for you closer to the exit of her room. 

"No?"- the suprise in your answer is way too loud to be missed. 

"Go back to your room" - she demands, her emerald eyes locking on you - "and don't even think of bothering Eva" 

"What are you talking about?" - you try your best not to shout at her -"I'm taking you both , to safe-"

"You have no right" 

"I have no-" - you cut yourself in disbelief, hands grabbing your forehead, then you turn to point at Miranda's bedroom from across the corridor -"your mother is a criminal, Eveline!" 

"She does what she can" - the dark haired girl strongly defends her mother and soon you find yourself arguing with a child , blinded by fake motherly love - "for the sake of both of us" 

"You haven't seen what i have , you haven't seen him, you haven't been-" 

"That man will be nothing but a useless corpse by tomorrow morning" - tone cold , voice fearless, eyes bold. Truly her mother's daughter. 

You freeze, she can't possibly know...Yes , Eveline is very mature for her age but this is- 

"You are..." - you start unsurely, your feet already guiding you out of this room, panic overtakes your breathing as you fear the door will close before you can even try to escape - "you are just as crazy as your mother is"  

.

.

.

Miranda grumbles as she lazily gets up from under the warm and cozy covers of her bed. Even in the rare nights she manages to actually experience dreams someone still steals these moments away from her. 

The loud and quick knocking on her door would have driven her insane if she hadn't decided to get up and see who had robbed her of her precious sleep. 

She swears if it's you again...

The angry expression evaporates from her face the moment she opens the door and her icy eyes meet Eveline's. Her chest tightens as she notices the tears running down her daughter's cheeks.

The little girl timidly takes a step in and despite the urge to burry herself in her mother's embrace she hesitates and instead she drops her head down, sobbing. 

"Evie,sweetheart, what's wrong?" - Miranda runs her fingers through the girl's hair in an attempt to bring her comfort. Her touch is gentle, patient , almost loving. 

"She knows" - Eveline's lips tremble as the larmes continue to drip from her emerald colour eyes - "she saw and now... she's not as clueless as before"

"Has she bothered Eva?" - Miranda questions while wiping away wet tears with her thumbs. When the girl shakes her head for no , she urges a smile-"What did she tell you?" 

Eveline really tries but eventually fails not to get closer and hug her mother. Her faces presses to the blonde woman's stomach and she begins to sob again. 

"She called me crazy" 

"And you got offended?" - Miranda lifts an eyebrow. 

"No..." - Eveline bites her lip nervously, unsure how to explain what bothers her- "but she... compared me to you, she said I'm as crazy as you are." 

Miranda squats down to be at the eye level of the little girl. She caresses her hair , her forehead and cheeks, one of her thumbs stop at a tiny scar near her ear as she cups both sides of her face. 

"Do you think... I'm a good mother?" - Eveline gags , and the blonde woman retreats her hands. They stare at each other, both knowing the answer of this question. If it wasn't for Eva, Eveline wouldn't be here at all , perhaps she would be dead by now. 

Miranda can still taste the shock she experienced when her daughter started to talk about a sister she had , which Miranda never mentioned. 

"No , forget that" - Miranda's eyebrows furrow - "Do you think I'm a good person? At all?" 

Eveline looks cowardly at her mother as if the woman is ready to devour her. She tugs on her nightgown as her shaky voice rings softly through the room. 

She doesn't answer that question neither but her point is clear. 

"I still have nightmares about that place. And everytime you bring someone new into your laboratory I can't help but feel their pain , their sadness - they haunt me , they...bring back upsetting memories."

"My poor girl" - Miranda can't help but notice how much her daughter tries to compose herself , how strong she tries to make her words sound as she hold into her for ghostly support. 

Long ago she wouldn't be even bothered to lift a finger for that child but now she feels her chest fill up with guilt towards the girl in front of her. She hates to admit it but are correct - she doesn't exactly treat her right. 

"Sometimes...i still feel like you perceive me as a failed experiment" - Eveline shakes her head when the blonde woman tries to cut her after that sentence , which sends waves of pain directly into her heart-"...all i want is to have a family, with Mia i was almost certain i had it..but then you left us and i-...i know your daughter is very important to you but-" 

"You often forget you're also my daughter, don't you?" - Eveline tenses when her mother wraps her hands around her body , pulling her in a tigh hug, but eventually she relaxes and new set of tears builds up in her eyes - "not Mia's, not hers. Mine." 

"And you love me?" - the dark haired girl is not used to this proximity. It's always been Eva who runs to hug their mother , who sits next to her on the dinner table, who spends more time with her. It's weird for Eveline to feel this...loved. 

"Of course i do" - Miranda doesn't like to say these words out loud , it feels like jinxing the person she's talking to. 

She thought of the girl as a failed experiment for indeed a long time, however now she's seeing her in a new light. Not only as her daughter but a normal human , which they both know Eveline isn't. 

"I'm sorry, i-"- the little girl can't stop the approaching tears as they begin to roll down her cheeks again. 

"Don't cry , tears don't change anything, they just make you look weak. You're not weak , Evie" - Miranda kisses her forehead while her thumbs brush her puffed cheeks - "why don't you go back to sleep?" 

"She ran away" - it's on the tip of Miranda's tongue to ask who is she referring to , but then it hits her, she remembers you, and she groans annoyed-"through the forest". 

"I'll take care of her, don't worry"- she reassures before releasing Eveline from her tigh embrace. 

 The girl plays nervously with the edges of her blouse as she watches her mother head for the door. 

"Mother?" - she timidly asks , immediately forcing Miranda to turn around and pay her attention, her hand gripping the door handle. The woman has a curious look expressed on her face - "Please, don't harm her"

***** 

The faint light from the moon finds its way through the dense foliage of the forest, gently caressing the tree trunks before falling completely onto the green moss and grass on the ground.

The forest is calm and quiet, you have the feeling that you are the only creature lurking around. Or at least that's how you try to calm yourself down, so that you don't think too much about the idea that you're alone in several acres of forest or about the fact that you totally don't know where you're running to. 

The truth is that you are totally lost. The moment you managed to get out of the mansion, you looked at your car - then you decided that it would be too easy to run away with it, that it was clearly chaseable, and the road was too long. 

It's too risky to go with a car , not like running around the woods in the middle of the night is a better idea...but at least like this you have a better chance of hiding if someone from that crazy excuse of a family decides to follow you. 

Your heart is beating so fast you can feel it pulsating even in your brain. You're out of breath and barely dragging your feet on the rain-covered ground as you pray to meet someone, anyone. 

You feel like you've been running for hours. no one should be able to track you, you should be safe by now, you should- 

You freeze in one place the moment you see it. Your nightmares have nothing to do with it, and yet the sight gives you goosebumps. 

Deer carcass. Black, tarry blood flows from it's eyes, watering the soil beneath the half-eaten body. It's horns are broken, along with it's limbs, it's body is twisted into an unreal position. it's rotting mouth is open, revealing abnormally sharp-looking teeth. 

You have to swallow several times just to try to keep the dinner in your stomach. And the reason for that is not the decomposing corpse in front of you, but the fact that it looks exactly like the deer that you killed about three weeks ago. God, even the wounds on it's body are the same.

How- 

The deer's head moves. Barely at first, but after a few seconds it does it again, and then it's whole body follows this movement. It's terrifying, it sounds like bones breaking, skin tearing, blood pouring,all accompanied by the actions that are actually happening. The cadaver soon turns into a twitching bloody puppet. And then you hear a familiar chuckle that makes you want to get out of there immediately. 

How-? 

"You disappoint me, girl"- part of the deer's body is practically torn, and to your misfortune, from there comes one of your greatest fears. 

You don't realize when or how exactly Miranda materializes in front of you, when the deer's corpse remains only in your memories, when the woman succeeds in knocking you to the ground, leaning over you and placing the entire weight of her body on yours.

The shock of what is happening passes only when you start to black out and you realize that Miranda's hands are tightly squeezing the base of your throat, her thumbs are pressing right onto your pulse.

"Get off" - you cough , barely able to look at her glowing eyes as tears begin to occupy your vision, you drag your nails against her skin, she remains unbothered - "get off me.."

"Scared?" - she smiles , revealing a nice but sharp looking set of teeth, her grip loosens but her hands still remain wrapping around your throat as she leans closer -"don't be, I don't bite... unless I'm provoked." 

She squeeze again and you gag, your nails dig into her flesh so hard you can actually feel the gathered skin beneath them. 

"And you don't want to provoke me" 

Her warning is crystal clear. Yet you refuse to obey her. You're not sure exactly how you managed to lift your arm or how she allowed you to hit her. You wanted to slap her , not too firmly but enough to get her off yourself but you ended up hitting her hard enough to knock her head to a side. 

And then you see your chance for an escape. Her possessive holding of your neck disappears and you use that to help yourself push her back and stand up. Immediately after that you start running, the direction doesn't matter, you only want to get away from her. 

All the trees look identical, the ground below you is soft and slippery. The rain has stopped but the darkness around the woods still remains and you get scared with every shadow moving past you. Just as you are starting to calm down, you caught the shining from her eyes to your right. 

When you turn to look at it and make sure it's her, Miranda jumps at you from a totally different direction and her hard fist crashes against your nose. The cracking noise and sudden pain makes you scream with a screeching voice. She just broke your nose , she-

"Tell me , little deer" - she gets a hold of your hair and pulls it harshly back as she watches thick  blood pouring from your nose like a river - "would your father prefer it if i send your whole corpse to him?" 

She grabs your chin and lifts if up and you watch through your eyelashes while she carefully observes your broken nose. 

"Or... deliverer you piece by piece?" 

"You're insane!" - you scream at her , the pain from your broken nose pulsates in your skill as you talk , it takes you a lot of courage not not to whimper. Her response is a cold laugh. 

"That is the only insult you have for me , isn't it?" - two of her fingers lift up and she presses them to your forehead. Her nails feel awfully sharp and soon she breaks your skin barrier, adding more crimson blood to your face. 

"Stop it, stop" - you sob , mind becoming foggy and unfocused, it's like she's playing with your brain and judging by how her fingers continue to cut you - she might be doing exactly that...

"I've told you already, and I'll do it again - you don't try to run away from me , you simply can't" - your knees go weak, and she wraps a hand around your waist to keep you from falling down , your vision is so blurry you can't even recognise her anymore - "sleep now , little deer , sleep and forget"

You collapse in her embrace, obeying her words as the world goes black and you fall asleep at her command , this time you don't even have the strength to try and refuse her. 

One of Miranda's hands slips under your knees while the other is supporting your back as she gets ready to pick you up. She sighs angrily, realizing she is going to have to carry you like this all the way back to the mansion. 

She looks at your face, or rather your nose - she will need extra work to fix it, but she accepts this punishment of hers , understanding that she allowed anger to consume her. Which is her mistake only.

Then her head tilts slightly to one side and she blinks as one of her fingers lightly trails the curves of your jaw. She hums. 

You should count yourself lucky because Eveline has asked her mother not to hurt you,...a lot.., not that Miranda would do it - her ideology isn't fond of her killing, or rather sacrificing women , what is the men's job. 

She does not kill without reason, however. She chooses her victims carefully. She studies them, and she knows very well which men in the circle of her work are pathetic excuses for people - calling yourself a doctor and at the same time killing children for money is unacceptable for her.

Her gentle touch moves away from your jaw to your chin , then she brushes her fingertips against your slightly open lips - the soft feeling of them surprises her , almost making her want to know how they taste like , and after that she lifts them to caress your forehead and smooth your hair. It's rather weird how she didn't notice how...pleasant you look, especially when you're sleeping, till now. 

Miranda hates to bring harm to women , pretty ones on top of that. 

Lost in close observation of your face, she fails to sense an approaching car. She just turns her head angrily when the furious sirens of a police car pass somewhere near her on the road.

.

.

.

How she failed to notice your beauty is incomprehensible to her. Maybe she was too busy getting mad at you every other second. Your looks are definitely coming with a sharp attitude, which she's not a fan of. 

"Ma'am?" - she remembers when you called her that , you were so nervous, so polite, so cute in her eyes. 

Miranda gently strokes your forearm , her fingertips going up and down as her nails ghost over your skin. Her hand is larger than yours, she resists the urge to lock your fingers with hers so she can measure exactly how much. 

"Ma'am?" - your voice , yes , she likes the sonority of it , it's usually calm yet at time harsh tone. It thrills her. Her staring is unbearable, you would probably be frightened if you were to wake up at exactly this moment. 

"Ma'am?" - that voice...is that yours. 

Miranda's touch leaves you as she stands up , your lifeless looking body now lying alone on a tiny blanket, carefully placed beneath you, in front of the creeping mansion, it's dark shadows hoovering over your face , with now completely healed nose , thanks to Miranda's special abilities.  

"Officer" - she fakes a large smile as she turns to face the policeman behind her , who's been calling out for her for what feels like hours - "I'd appreciate it if we talked somewhere more private" 

The man is young, thought he doesn't exactly look like a rookie his kind response reveals that he hasn't been working this job for a long time. Normally the cops Miranda messes with are rude and mean, which annoys her to an impossible level. 

"And I'd appreciate it if you give me a little more details of what is happening" - he talks rapidly, every word comes out perfectly calculated but the man can't help the trembling in his voice, he's nervous. Miranda knows this and she's thankful for the height difference between them , as the man is shorter, she can make herself more intimidating - "your friend over there called to report a kidnapping, and now she lays unconscious , ma'am i believe you have a lot to explain" 

"That woman is not in her right mind" - Miranda refuses to look at you, instead she puts her hand on the man's shoulder and slowly but surely makes him walk towards the mansion. 

"She framed you" - he whispers , as if bothered by an invisible presence. 

"I know" - the corner of her lips curls up , she sounds almost...proud. 

"And you don't care?" - the policeman slaps her hand away when she adds a little bit of pressure to his shoulder, and her smile disappears - "you should be at least worried, her information was well described and sounded trustworthy, on top of that it's not the first time someone calls the police on you, ma'am..."- at that Miranda raises a brow and the man clears his throat - "...So I've heard" 

"So you've heard?" - the mockery in her tone is enough to bring down the ego of a grown man , and this case she's very close to succeeding - "i thought officers have to make an inspection before they blame someone blindly. Besides, i don't think I'm the criminal you're perceiving me for" 

"Would you allow me to search your home then , ma'am?" - the man's arms are crossed in front of him chest in a demanding gesture. Miranda waves her hand to the front door. 

"Be my guest" - she watches with a smirk as the man's stiff body barely begins to move , he would say he's careful, Miranda knows better, he shudders when she calls out to him and the blonde woman almost laughs in his face - "oh and officer, please, my daughter is sleeping - do not disturb her" 

To his surprise, he agrees without arguing. 

.

.

.

Minutes pass , Miranda grows bored with every moment. What is that man even searching for? He'll not find what he thinks he will, not at all. 

The woman doesn't even blink when the silent footsteps of a little girl slowly approach her. The only reaction she expresses is a yawn. 

"Is everything clean , mother?" - Eveline doesn't look anxious despite the unsureness in her voice. 

"You know i hate to leave a mess , sweetheart" - she smiles as she watches the last dark windows on the second floor light up, the man has finally reached your room. 

"What about her?" - Miranda is not sure if she likes the fact that her daughter is fond of one mere babysitter or hates it. 

"Her condition is... acceptable" - she finds joy in teasing the little girl because she knows she's easily frustrated, but before she can start arguing the blonde woman stops her by rolling her shoulders back and pointing her chin to the mansion. The light from your room is no longer there , and both of them can sense the man walking down the stairs. 

Eveline doesn't need to be told to return back from where she came. It's not her business to be here , at all. 

Upon seeing the familiar face poking from the doorframe, Miranda crosses her hands in front of her chest. A proud smirk on her face , expressing the little victory she has over the man. 

"Well?" - she asks , already knowing the answer.

"Nothing" - the policeman mutters under his breath. 

This time she actually laughs. 

"So I've heard" - he can't hide his anger as well as she can but he tries, though he fails miserably. Miranda finds it very amusing, she's in a good mood tonight, despite the awful events that keep on working against her. 

"I only managed to find these" - he holds out a familiar bottle of medicaments , then he points at your sleeping self - "if she's on drugs , I don't have another choice but to arrest her"

"She's not on drugs" - Miranda assures him, gently grabbing the bottle from his hands , and reading out loud the name of it , the man stares at her and slowly blinks - it's his first time hearing that type of medicine - "those are pills that help with...mentality. And trust me , hers is very low" 

"Yet you allow her to work for you?" - he questions. 

"We all work for money, she is not an exception" - Miranda turns to look at you, she wiped the blood of your face long before she met up with the police officer but she can still sense the sweet odor of it- "I pity her , no mother , sick father , poor as a church mouse..." - her gaze fixes on the man again and he can see shining in her blue eyes , it makes him straighten his back - "it's really enough to make you insane" 

Miranda is good at weaving truths and telling beautiful lies, the man immediately becomes attached to her, trusting her blindly, not suspecting that all the problems in your head started the moment you set foot in this mansion.

"In that case" - he starts, gathering his thoughts and deciding what exactly to do with you , he runs his hands through his hair and hums - "i shall take her back to the station and we will...ugh..call a in a mental hospital or-" 

"No , leave her" - Miranda commands harshly- "I'm a doctor myself, she can stay here to... recover. It will definitely take her a while." 

The man is happy to get this task off his shoulders , he waves at Miranda while slowly walking back to his car. 

"Alright then"-the policeman sighs-"she's all yours"

Playing dangerous - Mother Miranda/reader

Warning for explicit content.

Chapter 4: Hide and seek

Summary:

You play hide and seek with the girls while dealing with Miranda's impossible mood swings.

The first week is hard. Exhausting even. The only thing that makes you feel good is that you managed to memorize almost all the rooms in the big mansion and the path you need to take in order to get to them. Of course, you still get confused when one of the inhabitants sends you to a less frequented place. But you succeed, you learn quickly and try to be flawless. 

Maybe you'd be a star in Miranda's eyes if the woman was actually around to notice you. 

Since your last meeting in the library you have hardly seen her. Her daughter's mild headache turned out to be a difficult task, and an unpleasant one for both of them. After only a few days, Eva was writhing in pain and believing the information you got from her sister, she couldn't even get out of bed.

 You could hear her coughing loudly every time you passed by her room, memories of your sick father always wandering in your head as you stood at the white bedroom door of the little girl and hoped she would get well soon.

Miranda didn't seem worried, not at all. The anger on her face every time she hurried up the stairs to the second floor even surprised you. She looked rather furious. 

The second week is better. In your eyes Miranda looks a little bit more relaxed, even though you don't see her around as often as before. She was either standing in the basement doing god knows what or spending hours in her sick daughter's room. 

In this way, Eveline was left alone and her only entertainment was you. Confirming Miranda's words - she quickly became attached to you.

The girl did everything with you - immediately after breakfast she pulled you aside to show you her drawings. Then she made you play outside, watch movies together, when she had to study and Miranda wasn't around to help her, the honor was all yours.

You remember the first time you looked at exactly what the blonde woman was making them study. Almost everything was general knowledge but very expanded. You weren't sure how to help with most of the things Eveline was struggling with. And yet, with joint efforts, you reached a solution to the difficult tasks, laughing every time you made mistakes. 

Eveline is a lovely child. However as her loneliness increased, separated from her sister and mother, her behavior changed. And with it... the strange things that happened in this remote, creepy mansion.

The third week is hell. Not for any members of Miranda's family but for you, personally. All these sounds, quiet footsteps in the night, silhouettes and dark figures. God, the whisper that constantly followed you through the corridors. The cold that seeped under your clothes, even your skin. They all made you feel crazy, especially when no one else in the house was feeling these things. 

You try to convince yourself that everything is a fake reality your own mind is creating yet you still feel mad. 

You managed to tolerate almost everything that was happening, but everything changed the night when these ...creatures crossed the border between the material and the immaterial. 

As many times before you woke up from another nightmare, already expecting a dark figure looming over you. This one had no eyes, but instead its mouth was huge, with sharp teeth and crimson blood dripping from it. Your breath hitched as those bloody blades dug into your shoulder and you screamed, feeling the pain traveling through your whole body.

You don't know how you managed to get out of it's grip or when you opened your bedroom door, you didn't even wonder how it was unlocked when you always locked your door at night. 

it didn't matter, nothing mattered.

 You were running along the corridor without a clear direction, you only stopped, and not at your own will, when someone's arms tightly wrapped around your waist.

Your eyes widened and you began to squirm in those strong arms, but they wouldn't let you go. You heard an exasperated grunt and within moments you were turned around and your back was against the cold wall. 

You shivered when you saw Miranda's face right in front of you. Her fingers held your wrists tightly and you were worried she might leave red imprints on them after she let go. If she let go , judging by her current state she wasn't planning on doing that soon. 

"Are you going to calm down already?" - she hissed in your face , her breath ghosting over your skin. 

You nodded. 

"Don't try to run away from me" - she warned you and you nodded again. You felt your fingers twitching when her hands freed yours. And suddenly your heart was beating normally again. 

"I'm sorry i-...was i-" - as you tried to choose your words Miranda stopped you by grabbing the fabric of your nightgown and pulling it , revealing your bleeding shoulder. And the large bite marks from sharp teeth on your skin. 

"I'll excuse you for waking me up with your screaming" - she started to talk more confidently and calmly as you regarded her body , the black nightgown she was wearing and her messy hair - you've done it again, you've awaken her in the middle of the night -"but I'll need you to explain this" 

Her fingers pressed just the slightest on your wounds and you jumped in pain, gagging from an upcoming whine. The pain was almost unbearable, you immediately felt the tears on your cheeks. 

Miranda also noticed. And not only that - when her touch left your wounded shoulder you continued to cry and she felt her chest tightening. 

"I can't" - you sobbed. 

"You can't?" - she quested with her head tilting, then she looked somewhere behind her , eyes scanning your opened door - "can't explain, then don't, I won't-" 

This time it was you who grabbed her and pulled her closer , she looked surprised and had to press her palms on the wall in order not to smash her body against yours. 

"I don't feel sane , Miranda" - you half sobbed half screamed at her and she took a deep breath in. Then her hands lowered and grabbed your shoulders , as she was extra careful not to bring you pain. 

"You are" - she tried her best to convince you, using that tone of hers , her voice almost made you believe her , almost - "you are perfectly s-" 

"You don't get it" - you pulled hard on the fabric of her nightgown, forcing her to press herself to you, Miranda almost snapped at you for doing that but seeing you particularly trembling under her , she relented and allowed you to use her body as a shield from the monsters that haunted you- "i see and hear things that are not there , but they are real. They are real. See what they've done to me!" 

Miranda's eyes followed your trembling fingers as you pointed to your shoulder, more and more tears rolling down your cheeks in the process. You breathing was irregular and you felt like you were suffocating. 

"I'm not" - you panted , lowering your head , almost burying it into her chest - "I'm not okay , I'm not-" 

"Allow me to treat your wounds" - she sounded unbothered like usual. Was she even listening to you? You needed help , however you didn't expect hers to be offered. 

"You don't understand" - you felt yourself panicking, your fingers wandered on the skin of your face until they grabbed pieces of your own hair and began to pull. 

Miranda gently slapped your hands away and she calmly said your name. A warning. 

"I think-" - you cut yourself by wrapping your hands around your stomach, giving the woman in front of you a chance to move backwards. She remained completely still - "i- ... think I'm going to pass out"

"You won't" - Miranda never sounded more sure in something than now - "unless, of course, you allow me to help you." 

You lifted your head , almost hitting her chin in the progress. Good thing her reflexes were swift. Her eyes shined in golden colour. How many times have you seen those eyes in your dreams? 

Why was the woman from your nightmares offering you help? Pity , maybe? She had indeed a sorrowful expression on her face but...why? 

You silently agreed to her offering and didn't protest when she wrapped one arm around your waist, then grabbed one of your own hands in hers and carefully helped you walk the way back to her room. 

.

.

.

Your wounds weren't as deep or severe as you thought, but they surely hurt like hell. However you hardly felt any pain, no, not in Miranda's care.

Her dexterous, thin and experienced fingers touched you in such a gentle way that you didn't even know when she managed to clean up all the blood, when she treated all the wounds from sharp teeth and when she put bandages on your vulnerable shoulder.  

It felt like she had done this a million times before. 

Her bedroom was huge , dark and awfully cold. You didn't pay much attention to it though, you were too distracted to look around. 

"You should be good now" - Miranda announced, moving freely around her room , then she stopped in front of you, it took you some time before you stopped staring at her legs and instead lifter your gaze to look at her face, not surprised when you found an annoyed expression on it -"i suggest you go back to your room" 

The mansion was old so naturally it walls often cracked at night. As one louder sound echoed from the hallway you blinked hard before feeling the goosebumps run down your spine. 

"I'm scared" - you shamelessly explained, looking at the darkness creeping from the corridor - "they'll haunt me again" 

Miranda laughed. 

"I'm already fed up with Eveline's stories" - she sat next to you on the bed , then she leaned closer to whisper in your ear - "don't turn into another difficult child i need to look after , please" 

"I'm not crazy" - you snap right back at her, if you could punch that awful grin from her lips you would, but your body felt too weak for that. 

"I never said you were" 

"They are real , i-" 

"Are they?" - you slowly looked at her as she placed her chin in her palm and crossed her legs - "how come I've never seen them?" 

Silence. Eveline said her mother knew about them , she said she sees them too then... you couldn't possibly be crazy, right? Then why, why is nobody acknowledging those creatures. 

"I'm not crazy" - you repeated yourself, breathlessly. 

Maybe if you continued to say it over and over again you would actually believe it. But this time Miranda stayed quiet. And that made you feel afraid, of her , of yourself. 

"Miranda" - her name felt wrong, as it was forbidden to speak of - "i don't think...i can stay here anymore"

"And if i help you, with your... situation?" - she asked rapidly, you wondered if she even heard what you said before that. 

"How?" - you knew you were ready to accept anything. 

The blonde woman stood up from the bed and walked away from you just for a few seconds, not even a full minute later she was back. Holding a pack of pills in her hands. 

"As you said - you're not crazy. You just feel like you are" - she allowed you to see the name of the pills , but this kind of medicine wasn't familiar to you, yet you took it when she handed it to you - "one before bed and one in the morning, they should help" 

"And if they don't?" - you questioned, firmly holding the pills in your hand. 

Miranda looked down at you as if you were her prey. Her face consumed by darkness. 

"They will." 

***** 

The memory from last night hits you hard for the third time this morning. Everything feels like a fever dream, like it never happened. But you know it was real, the wounds on your shoulder are the proof. As well as the pills on your nightstand. 

You should really have a talk with Miranda about...everything. 

 This is your exact thought as you exist your room and take the already familiar path to the first floor. It's still early in the morning which means she is probably preparing breakfast in the kitchen. You wouldn't be surprised if you see her already on the table with her daughters. 

What you didn't expect, however, was to walk past her office and find the door slightly ajar. That door is always either firmly closed or fully open. 

Your curiosity wins over your conscience and you press yourself to the wall , then you slightly lean closer so you can see and hear what is happening inside. 

Eveline is standing right in front of Miranda, who has her arms crossed, in the middle of the room. The tension between them is so thick you can almost feel it suffocating you. 

"You need to stop Eveline" - you've never heard Miranda speak so roughly. It makes your whole body shiver yet her daughter stays fearlessly in her place. 

"She's taking it well" 

"Well?" - Miranda scoffs, her eyebrows furrowing - "your understanding of well is very low"

"She hasn't ran away yet , hasn't she?" - Eveline doesn't care about how mad her mother looks right now , how just her voice is ready to tear a person in half - "I'm assuming that for more than well" 

"It's the same as the last time" - Miranda throws her hands in the air in frustration, then she places them on the hard wooden desk , looking at her daughter with burning flames in her eyes - "you made a promise, and you've already broken it" 

That particular sentence changes something into Eveline's behaviour. Her back straightens and she lowers her head. 

"I'm sorry-" 

"No you're not" - the blonde woman snaps right back her , shaking her head - "you said the same thing last time , the even before that. You can't be sorry for something you're doing over and over again" 

"But i just -" 

"Your wish cannot come true" - Miranda doesn't let her speak at all - "Mia's gone , you cannot replace her , no matter how much you try" 

You can barely hear Eveline's quiet, almost silent sobs from the door. Miranda has it worse because her daughter's crying face is right in front of her. As a mother she cannot stand this and she knees down to the black haired girl, placing her palms on both sides of her face. 

"Don't cry" - she wipes her tears with her thumbs , then she lifts her chin to take a good look of her - "you won't change anything with just tears" 

Eveline's voice is shaky as she speaks again. 

"She's different, mother, she-" 

"i don't like her, sweetheart" - Miranda's words make you and Eveline both freeze at the same time. 

"She's scared, she's sacred when she's alone, she's scared when she's with us , with you" - the girl speaks fast , afraid her mother might shut her up any given moment -"she's scared and she still stays , i think she can be-" 

"Enough" - oh that voice, that tone , can haunt you in your nightmares forever, you're sure of it - "I'll not hear another word, you lost your mother, you'll not have another one. Stop before i force you to do so." 

The girl's body looks dead , with no will for life, and for a moment she relaxes so much in her mother's arms that it really seems like she is just a corpse, nothing more. Then she raises her head slightly and whispers. 

"I'm sorry, Miranda" 

Eveline runs out of the room before the blonde woman in front of her can say anything, or even react in some way. She's only left with lifted eyebrows and slightly parted mouth. 

The girl gives you a sorrowful look as she sees you at the door , pressed against the wall , hidden from their eyes. She doesn't get mad when she realises you've been spying on them. No she just speaks calmly, but her voice is as low as a whisper. 

"You do not belong here" - she begins to slowly move backwards, every step more silent than the other - "and i can't help you anymore" 

Eveline is gone within seconds. 

The loud crashing noise from inside the room is so sudden it makes you gasp in both suprise and fear. You peak just the slightest and you freeze. 

Miranda's finger is already pointing at you as your eyes meet hers. She not only looks angry but violent. You notice the broken chair next to the door before her finger can curl up and calls you. 

Withdraws you - because your legs almost move on their own. 

"Don't be noisy, girl" - she commands - "it will only bring you harm." 

"I'm sorry, i didn't mean to-" 

Miranda releases the collar of your shirt and you only now realise she's been holding it. You also can't help but notice how close her face was to yours. How? When-?

"I'm sick of excuses" - that tone of hers is different, you've never heard it before. Sadness? She pinches the bridge of her nose. - "Go" - she urges you - "leave" 

She pushes you almost to the door when you squirm in her arms and actually manage to break free. Strange. Her grip from last night felt much more stronger. 

"Before that Miranda -" 

"I don't care about last night" - she groans , awfully annoyed - "it's in the past , forget it , i assure you it won't happen again" 

Ah yes , last night. Your nightmares, the creatures , the wounds , the blood , the tears that rolled from your eyes and dammed Miranda's skin. Surprisingly enough that isn't what you want to discuss, well it was - before you saw the scene between Eveline and her...mother. Now you are wondering....

"Is Eveline adopted?" - the pushing of hands behind your back stops immediately. And Miranda grows silent. You know you managed to hit a nerve. 

"Eva...wanted a sister" - the blonde woman moves to her desk and sits on her comfortable chair while you only take a few steps to be closer to her , stopping somewhere in the middle of her office. So your speculations are true - Eveline isn't her biological daughter. 

"And Eveline is younger?" - you don't know when this guilty feeling towards the little girl started, but you feel like you need to defend her even from her mother. 

"Older , by three years" - Miranda explains , you can't see her face since she's lowered down, in search for something in the drawers under her desk - "Eva is eight , Eveline's eleven" 

Miranda's fingers are practically shaking as she grabs her pack of cigarettes from the drawers and lights one up. The awful smell of nicotine almost immediately reaches you and you wrinkle your nose. 

"You don't treat her right, Miranda" - you explain, your hands turning into fists. 

"You're noone to judge" - you hate how the smoke from the cigarette covers her face , making you unable to see her actual emotions. 

"No , but i have eyes , so does Eveline" - you begin to explain, resisting the urge to grab that hideous thing from between her lips and throw it away. - "besides that she has feelings, and you're hurting them , you're hurting her" 

The difference between how Miranda talked and acted with Eva is enormous. Eveline must feel awful about all of this. You don't know why you care so much , but you won't allow it. 

"It's not my fault" - the familiar loud and rough tone of her voice is back the moment she presses the tip of her cigarette to the surface of the desk , leaving yet another burnt mark - "that her mother left her" 

"You are her mother now , act like it" 

Miranda releases a hissing sound, almost a laugh, but it's forced and filled with anger. 

"You'll suffer, girl" - she warns you - "bravery is not always rewarded" 

She can barely sit still and not fully unleash her anger at you , you know that , mainly judging by the twitching of her lips. You know you're walking on thin ice , and yet...

"I know she feels unloved" 

The desk is swiftly moved to the side and Miranda is already up and walking towards you with a pointed finger before you can even take a step back. 

You can't even describe her anger , it's twisting her face and guiding her legs. 

You blick and her nail digs in your chest, you blink again and you're already being pushed back to the door, you blink a third time and you trip on the carpet , falling down in Miranda's legs. 

"You're noone, noone, nothing" - she hisses out the words like a snake , then she points at the door - "out , out before i decide you're not worthy to even stand on my floors." 

This time you obey her command.

***** 

"Eva , sweetie, what a suprise" - you give the blonde girl walking into the living room a wide smile and your heart warms up when she returns it - "feeling better?" 

"A little..."- she rubs her eyes with tiny hands as she sits on the sofa next to her sister , Eveline whispers something to her and she nods. 

"Wouldn't it be better if you come to us after you're fully recovered?" - you start to rant to her about her sickness - "i don't think it's a good idea to force yourself to walk around while you're still sick. Besides your mother will-" 

"Mommy knows I'm out of bed" - she takes a peak at the bord game on the table, you wish she can't tell apart the figures and how you're brutally loosing to Eveline - "and this...flu i got it's periodic, sometimes i feel great - sometimes i feel like i'm dying but i'm tired of staying alone in my room when i feel healthy" 

You purse your lips. No , she definitely should stay in her bed until she's completely healthy but... you can't say no her cute face and begging eyes. You fold immediately. 

"Alright then" - you turn to the table and the pack of figures on the bord - "let's start over so you can play with us" 

"No , that game is boring" - she declares. 

"It's not!" - Eveline interfaces, crossing her arms in front of her chest - "if you read and actually follow the rules it's pretty interesting" 

Eva yawns on purpose. You laugh when Eveline murmurs something in response. 

"I know you like card games and the bets that come with them , but mother is not around to watch for your cunning methods of cheating" 

"I don't cheat!"

The black haired girl gently pokes her ribs and Eva giggles. 

"Cheater" - she calls her. 

"No!" - Eva laughs, moving around and trying to escape the tickling from her sister - "Stop" 

You laugh along with them. The kids are lovely when they are not influenced by their mother's odd behaviour. 

"Are you two up for hide and seek?" - you propose a game idea - "I don't want to brag...but I'm pretty good at it" 

"You haven't played with us" - Eveline grins widely beside you. 

"Is that a bet?" - you lift an eyebrow and return her cunning smile. Eva's eyes shine as sapphires as she hears her probably favourite word. 

"Oh yes , it is" - she confirms. 

.

.

.

After lots of arguing, the three of you decide that you should seek them and they should hide. The distant giggles are already gone when you finish counting to one hundred. 

And the game begins. 

In the first round you manage to find both of the girls pretty easily. Guessing they would probably hide in their own comfort, which would me their rooms - you check there first and you're even surprised to find Eva hiding under her bed. 

Now for Eveline you spend a little more time in search but you eventually find her in the kitchen. 

"Again!" - Eva urges, unable to bear the fact that she just lost - "Let's play again!" 

In the second round you know to they wouldn't hide in the same places , neither in their rooms anymore or any familiar room. Eveline is in a hidden small chamber under the stairs, she screams when you open the door, unsure how you managed to find her there. Eva is predictable - her mother's bedroom is not the best option for her. 

"She's actually good" - Eva whispers to her sister. 

"We should try harder" - Eveline proposes and the other girl nods. 

In the third round however they are nowhere to be found. You search everywhere, the whole house - nothing, nowhere. You start to panic at some point but you quickly calm yourself, at least you know they are here , and if you're unable to find them they'll go out themselves. You start to seek around more carefully for a second time.

And yet again you find nothing. 

There's only one place you can think of where you haven't searched for them. But they can't be there , they shouldn't. Neither you should go to seek them there. Yet you find yourself already taking the stairs to the lower level of the mansion. 

The door for the basement is large, metal and old. The rust on it can be seen from miles away. You are surprised when you press the handle and realize that it is actually unlocked. God, this door is heavy, you can hardly open it. How exactly does Miranda handle this constant opening and closing.? You know the woman is in great shape but it just weighed too much. Oh and that hideous screeching sound , it's awful. 

 The room is dark, barely lit, it's composed of concrete walls and ceiling. The only source of light comes from the dim and flickering fluorescents hanging from the ceiling. The smell of chemicals and cleaning products fills the room, making it heavy and thick. There are various lab tables scattered around the room, covered in many test tubes and equipment. 

So this is Miranda's laboratory. It looks rather unused. You're too busy to wander around a look at almost every single unfamiliar thingie on the old tables to hear another door being unlocked. 

Your head shifts to the close by sound and you panic , your heart beating rapidly as you quickly hide behind a large lab table. The door opens a second after that. 

The almost silent footsteps echo from the floor up through the air and bump hardly against your ears. You put a hand over your mouth, trying your best not to breathe, to be quiet and invisible. 

It works, for a while. Miranda walks around her laboratory freely and you use the darkness of the room to hide yourself better. She hums to herself a calming melody as she writes something in a notebook. 

Then her head turns to the door. Shit , you left it open. Your breath hitches as she moves to the door , but she never gets even close to it. Instead she stops in the middle of the room. A single tap of her foot on the floor makes you shiver. That woman had no right to be this scary. 

"Eveline?" - she unsurely asks. When nobody answers her , she tilts her head down and she quietly laughs. She's not only scary but crazy , crazier than you for sure. 

The basement door is closed and locked within seconds. That makes you uncomfortable. Your only way out is not an option anymore. On top of that Miranda starts to walk directly to your direction. You try to blend with the darkness even more...but she doesn't stop. 

She can't possibly know you're hiding there. Right? 

Her hand firmly grabs and tugs your hair , answering your question immediately. She doesn't even look at you while she drags you out of your hiding place. No matter how much you squirm and kick your legs around - she doesn't let go of you. 

"Ow, Miranda!" - you scream, it feels like she's not tugging on your hair but your actual skin - "you're hurting me!" 

"Please, this is nothing" - finally she drags you fully from behind the lab table and you only manage to blink before she throws you to a side and your back hits the hard wall , you groan in pain - "i can bring you much more pain , if you continue to disobey and ignore my words" 

"I'm sorry i was trying to-" 

"Are you deaf , girl?" - she scoffs as she buckles her knees down, in order to be at your eye level - "i already said I'm sick of excuses, so fucking sick" 

Her hands grasps your shoulder, your wounded shoulder. The one she personally treated last night. Her fingers dig into your skin and you resist a scream but as her force increases you can't hold your voice back. 

"When i speak - you listen" - she lifts your chin up , unbothered by the tears rolling down your cheeks or the blood from your wounds soaking her fingers - "what did i tell you about the basement?" 

You gag , unsure if the liquid inside your mouth is saliva or blood. You rather not get the answer to that question. 

"It's... forbidden" - you whisper. 

"Louder" - she urges you - "it's forbidden, say it louder" 

"The basement is forbidden" - you repeat yourself, your tears dripping from your chin down to your shirt. 

"For who?" - her other hand grabs you by the hair and pulls your head up , forcing you to look into her eyes. The eyes of a mad woman. The eyes from your nightmares. 

"For me , it's forbidden for me" 

She finally releases you , and you curl up on the floor , the pulsating pain from your shoulder occupying your thoughts. 

"Then - why are you here?" - the anger in her voice is almost unbearable, and your only answer is a silent sob. She slaps her foot on the floor making you shiver - "answer me!" 

"The kids!" - you scream, covering your crying face with shaking hands - "we were playing hide and seek , i couldn't find them and i-" 

She grabs you again, this time she's careful, her hand is not even close to your wounded shoulder. She takes her time to guide you to the door. Before she can unlock it though she stares at it for a moment, then she turns to you.

"Eveline is in the forest, deep in the woods , don't search for her she'll be back for dinner" - she begins to explain, her hand gently rubbing circles on your back. Why? - "Eva is in the attic, go find her" 

You didn't even know the mansion had an attic. 

"How- how do you know?" 

Miranda smiles. You hate that smile and at this moment you're almost sure you hate her as a whole. 

"And you're asking" - she scoffs - "they are my daughters , and i know everything about them" 

Everything about them? To the last detail? To the point where she knows where they are even though she hasn't seen them all day? Impossible. 

You're thrown out of the basement before you can ask her anything else. The doors locks behind you immediately.

*****

Eva is shocked when you find her exactly where Miranda told you she was - hidden in the attic. Eveline comes proudly from the woods just before dinner. Miranda looks unbothered at the table, smiling at her children like nothing happened today. 

Everything feels wrong. This is your only thoughts as you lay down in your bed. You turn around and around in it , unable to find sleep. And then you hear it - the soft calling of your name , followed by the banging of drums. But from where? 

Somewhere low...the first floor, the basement, the core of the earth? 

You get up, as if enchanted by the noises and begin to blindly follow their lead.

Playing dangerous - Mother Miranda/reader

Warning for explicit content.

Chapter 3: Metamorphosis

Every tap of your foot on the wooden floor makes it creak, distracting you from the conversation. Your eyes follow the deep indentations in the boards and you begin to wonder what they are made of. You bend down until your palm touches the floor and your fingers, or rather nails,  exactly match with the markings.

Your boyfriend's voice continues to ring through the receiver and you return to the conversation, leaving the inspection of the strange floor for later. 

"...No- I'm telling you they're very weird"- your gaze shifts to the door, you know it's closed and locked but you check anyway, not wanting the family to hear you talking behind their backs. 

“Why don't you just steal their money and then run away then?” you roll your eyes, Philip and his stupid ideas. You wonder how he isn't in jail yet. 

"And get that crazy woman after me?" - although your voice is full of mockery - the smile on your face is missing - "no way" 

"The mother?" - you hear movement on the other side and assuming that he is probably walking from one room to another, you wait a while until you're sure he's at one place. 

"Yeah, I don't think she likes me very much" - as the words leave your mouth, somewhere in the hallway, a door opens. You can make a bet on exactly which one it is and you are sure you'll win it. 

“She's a fool then,” - he laughs, and as footsteps begin to echo from behind your closed door, you cut him off before he can continue his rant about Miranda. 

“But I want her to like me” – your voice sounds more confident than it should be but you don't bother, the footsteps are almost next to your room - “I mean – I think it's necessary for my boss to like me. If it's the opposite I'm sure she can find a way to make my life a living hell". 

There is no way you want this assumption of yours to turn out to be true. 

"Then use your sweet charm on her , darling" - there's a knock on the door - "I'm sure she'll be convinced" 

At first you don't pay much attention to Philip's joke due to Miranda's soft voice calling you for breakfast, when her footsteps continue past your room - you burst out laughing. 

"What works on you won't have the same effect on her , I'm sure" - you stand up and walk to your wardrobe, as you open the doors of it you start to check your clothes one by one in order to choose an outfit for today. 

"What about the children?" - your boyfriend asks while you place a pair of jeans on the bed , soon a plain shirt falls on top of them. - "are they fond of you?" 

"Can't say yet" - you throw your phone on the bed and you stay quiet for a few seconds while you rush to change into your chosen clothes - "it's only been two days after all" 

"And you're already weirded out and... what did you say - scared?" - you roll your eyes again. He can joke and mock you as much as he wants but he wasn't there to hear those things from last night. 

"...Yeah sure , i have to go now" - you warn him while fixing your hair , there's a small crack on the mirror that annoys you. 

"Alright, darling. I have to leave for work in a few minutes as well" 

"Will you.... promise to call me more often?" 

You know his promises are cheap lies already but a part of you still wishes he can grow up to keep them. Yet your chest tightness when he doesn't answer , staying quiet instead. 

"Philip?" 

"I will try" 

With that he hangs up and you sigh. You love it when you talk so freely with him but those moments are rare , too rare. You don't understand why he's like this or rather why he turned out to be like this.

 After that other girl he changed a lot and you know it would be better to just break up with him , to not contact him anymore, as part of you knows he's loosing interest with every passing day. 

However by doing that , those years spent with him will seem meaningless, lost and worthless.

*****

The mansion is still as dark as before, but as you walk down the stairs the walls start to seem closer to you, somehow making you feel small, pushing you into a corner. 

You convince yourself it's your mind playing tricks on you. After all you definitely didn't get enough sleep last night. 

While you walk with your head down, so as not to look at the paintings that seemed so beautiful to you before - and now you have the feeling that every pair of their eyes is staring right at you, you notice more scratches on the floor. They look the same as the ones in your room.

 You don't feel the trust your unfocused mind puts in your feet until you recognize the kitchen floor. And as you lock your eyes with Miranda's - the gaze of the paintings evaporate from your head. 

She may be mean and rude, but she's gorgeous, you'll give her that. Just like before - she sits cross-legged in a comfortable chair by the table, her hair slicked back, revealing her ears and the many shiny pendants on them. In her hands she holds the same cup from yesterday and you quickly guess that it's coffee again. The smell confirms it.

"You look...pale" - she unsurely comments , then the cup she was holding till now disappears and she lifts her hand to your forehead, hesitation shines in her eyes but her soft palm still presses on your skin - "Are you feeling unwell?" 

This proximity is new and unfamiliar. Maybe she's trying to apologize for last night. But judging by her worried impression, you probably look very unwell. 

"i just couldn't sleep" - her touch goes colder and colder until it completely disappears. 

"I'm sorry to hear that" - you settle into the chair next to her as she takes the last few sips of her coffee, there is a plate in front of you and two more on the table but not in front of Miranda, you wonder if she is eats at all - "i hope Eveline didn't scare you much" 

"She didn't" - you scoff, it's not the crying child that was worrying you last night. 

You hear a crack somewhere behind you. 

"Good morning" - you jump in your seat as a quiet voice echoes behind you. You turn with widened eyes to face the black haired girl , a grin shines proudly on her face. When did she manage to sneak up behind you? 

Even Miranda puts a hand to cover her smile from you , she's polite enough to hide ber mockery but her eyes are still looking at you two. You clear your throat and turn to Eveline as she takes the seat next to yours - you know how to turn this conversation around and shift the attention off you. 

"Did you manage to calm yourself last night, sweetie?" - she gives you a sharp glare. 

"Clearly - yes" - rude , truly like her mother. 

"Ready to explain what was bothering you then?" -the description of what scared her is inaccurate, part of you is curious, another part wants to make her not use such a cold and harsh tone while talking to you. 

Eveline looks rather convinced, her little hand grips on the metal fork and she hesitates for a moment, then just as she is about to speak Miranda interrupts her. 

"Evie where's your sister?" - her eyes shift somewhere behind you, as if she's expecting her other daughter to came down any moment now, when she doesn't her eyebrows furrow a bit. 

"Still upstairs" - the black haired girl resumes the eating of her breakfast. 

"Doing what?"- her gaze hardens. 

Eveline lifts her shoulders in uncertainty and her mother claims an even more pissed off look. But instead of continuing her conversation with the girl, she turns to you. 

"Can you please go and call her for breakfast?" 

She doesn't have to ask twice - it's your job after all. You quickly stand up and listen to Miranda's instructions on which room exactly is Eva's before heading directly there.

***** 

The girl's door is white, in contrast to the others, dark ,wooden doors in the mansion. There are some butterfly stickers stuck near the handle. They look old but despite that you find them cute. You lift your hand and curl up your fingers.

"Are you up Eva?"- you knock a few times on the surface of the door - "your mother is calling you for breakfast" 

Your voice is loud enough for her to hear you even if she was sleeping. Yet there's no response from the other side. The girl stays silent. Is she even in there? 

Grabbing the door handle, you decide to go in without a specific invitation from the owner of the room. The moment you step inside a soft, yet anxious voice rings in your ears. 

"Close the door, close the door!" - she commands -"they'll fly away!" 

You quickly follow the blonde girl's orders , then you turn to look at her and as you do your mouth opens in surprise. 

"Are those... butterflies?" - you ask with a curious smile. 

Eva is standing near her large desk, in one part of which there is a big, glass aquarium - there is no water in it, but rather greenery, you correct yourself by guessing that it is more likely a terrarium. 

What surprises you, however, are the many butterflies standing in it. And all the others that fly around the room - they are everywhere, perched on the furniture, on the ceiling, on the floor... you even notice a few in the girl's hair.

 The butterflies are colorful and beautiful, they make the room feel like a shiny rainbow. Eva giggles as you observe her pets so gracefully. 

"You like them?" - she happily asks , lifting a hand - not soon after one butterfly with blue wings lands on her finger and she moves it closer for your eyes to observe. 

"They all look lovely, dear" - you try to carefully take the insects on your own finger but it gets scared and you watch closely as it flies away. Eva has definitely predicted this as all the windows in her room are closed - "you must really adore them" 

Their number is enormous, you can spend a lot of time trying to count them. Eva suddenly throws her arms up causing the butterflies on the ceiling to move and as if guided by an unspoken command they return to their glass home. 

"Once when I was walking in the forest a small butterfly landed on my hand" - she stops to show you where exactly - "then I didn't know that their wings were fragile and I grabbed her casually, I was dying to show mommy - I didn't realize that I had managed to kill the poor creature before I could get to her" 

Sadness covers Eva's face as she remembers the memory. 

"And what did Miranda say?" - you ask , trying to get her to finish her story. 

"She said i reminded her of a butterfly,... at the time i wasn't sure why" - the girl then smiles - "the same day she gave me a greenish caterpillar - told me to take care of it and watch it closely" 

So Eva discovered the cycle life of a butterfly that day? Interesting. 

"What happened to it?" - the blonde girl tilts her head towards the terrarium, with a closer look you distinguish several caterpillars and cocoons hanging next to them. 

"It was interesting to watch the little creature transform into a graceful butterfly" - she comments , both hers and yours eyes still glued to the terrarium -"i was sure it was dying but then...it was like the caterpillar was brought back to life - more beautiful and powerful than before." 

You don't notice when her tone starts to sound melancholic, as if she is drowning in a distant, nostalgic memory. She stays quiet for a moment. 

"Mommy explained to me this process was called metamorphosis. I was so interested in it - the next day i found another caterpillar and observed it for a long time , taking notes for every stage of it's transformation." 

"And from then you started collecting butterflies, didn't you?" 

"As you can see"- she grins widely, with a few guided movements of her hands - almost all the butterflies return to the glass box - "i learnt to be more careful with them and they learnt to trust me" 

"That's adorable" - you return her soft smile , Miranda was right - Eva was really a sweetheart - "but i have to ask...why so many?" 

"Butterflies tend to live for a short period of time" - she starts to explain - "everytime one of them dies , another one is born - death for life.... it's like a rebirth , a reincarnation of souls..." 

You are pleasantly surprised by the choice of words , she sounds so confident in them - as if this happens every day, not to the butterflies, however, but to her. 

In just a few minutes Eva manages to collect all her colorful pets and return them to the terrarium, then she runs to the door, she stops only to call you. 

"Come on!" - she rushes you - "I'm starving, what did mommy make for breakfast?" 

You quickly follow behind her , closing her door and continuing down the corridor. Maybe the family is not so bad after all. 

***** 

The girls love to play outside, they enjoy the fresh air, the freshly cut green grass, the thick leaves of the trees and the birds that come out from among them to fly and tear the clouds with their black wings. 

It is peaceful, pleasant and quiet. Cozy. Your body relaxes under the warm rays of the sun which caress your skin. It is warm but tolerable, the weather is, to put it simply, perfect. 

You sit calmly on one of the several chairs under the tent near the house. Next to you there is a table with all kinds of snacks, but no one pays attention to them - you are not surprised when you look at Eva and find her chasing butterflies through the air. 

Eveline is standing in the seat next to you, elbows on the table, overhanging a few sheets of paper on which she is carefully drawing with colored pencils. And you just stare at your phone, waiting for some news from the hospital, from your father, something about his condition, something about his illness, just....something. 

At one point you get fed up and throw your phone on the table with an exasperated sigh. You find yourself looking at the drawings of the girl with black hair next to you, but she hides them with her hands. You get even more annoyed and decide to see what her sister is up to instead. 

However when you start looking for her with your eyes - your heart starts to beat a little bit faster. Eva is nowhere to be found. You don't realize when you have even jumped out of your seat, or how you've managed pushed the chair on the ground in the process. Your eyes dart around but they can't seem to don't pick up on anything. She's gone but...wasn't she giggling somewhere near you just now? 

You quickly try to calm down, telling yourself that she probably went inside. Yes, that's right, she must need something from the house. Your feet begin to move towards the front door as if on their own as you continue to convince yourself how she's in there somewhere and you're totally not a bad babysitter for not paying much attention to the kids you're supposed to carry for. Gods , Miranda will kill you if something happens to Eva. 

Right before you cross the threshold of the door, something in your thinking changes. An idea lights up, but it summons goosebumps on your skim. What if she is in the forest? The trees are dense, with exposed sharp branches, she can easily be injured. Not to mention all the wildlife roaming through the shadows of the trees. 

Your heart starts to beat irregularly as you turn to observe the forest behind you. A shocked gasp leaves your throat when your eyes meet it. 

It ,because you cannot in any way define the figure in front of you as a person. Too tall, limbs unnaturally long, twisted and crooked. Skin pure black - like the night, with the only difference - the night can be beautiful. This creature is the deity of the darkest hours - a walking nightmare. 

It doesn't even have a face and yet it's smiling. It's mouth is torn, dark skin begins to disintegrate - thick pieces of it mixed with blood fall on the ground, staining the green grass. That horrifies you. 

Both of you start to run at the same time, but in totally different directions - the creature to you, and you to Eveline. However, you don't expect to bump into her after only a few steps. Her eyes widen at your worried look and she grabs your hands tightly before you can say anything to her.

"Do you see them too?" - her question makes you shiver. 

"W-what , wait -" - your gaze shifts to the forest again , there is nothing there , yet you point in that direction - "that wasn't real" 

Your voice sounds uncertain, Eveline doesn't pay much attention to your half statement half question. 

"Mother knows about them too , but she chooses to ignore them" - she speaks rapidly, as if she doesn't have time to explain properly - "she thinks they are harmless, but i know better" 

Her now very loud and rushed tone echoes through your head , making you hiss in pain from a sudden headache. 

"Eveline you..." 

"They are only harmless to me" 

Miranda shows up at the door seconds after one of her daughters totally manages to confuse you. A part of you calms down when you see Eva in her embrace, but you still feel your body shivering with every small movement. 

"Is everything alright here?" - the blonde woman asks in concern at the sight of your condition. 

"Yes , mother" - Eveline answers for you, Miranda seems convinced. Not like you expect her to care at all.

"Lunch will be earlier today" - she declares while slowly walking back into the house, you almost storm after her , if only you weren't so frozen in your place - "Eva told me she was hungry" 

The little girl in her arms nod in silent agreement.

.

.

.

Miranda's incredibly delicious cooking makes you forget about the incident outside. Her two daughters talk impatiently with her, each trying to outdo the other. And yet she manages to listen and respond to both at the same time. She looks like a very good mother, despite all the things Eveline says about her. 

Soon the table empties - the girls find themselves busy with their painful duty of studying, they both look as if it is the last thing that they want to do. But none of them argue with their mother's commands. 

They leave you alone with Miranda. Her presence is intimidating, consuming... you don't even want to comment about her staring. Thick tension builds up between you two. You clear your throat to caught her attention, and your mouth finally opens to speak. 

"Is there... a quiet place where i can study too , by any chance?" - you feel timid while asking her this , as if it's a crime. She loves the look on your face and she returns it with a cunning smile. 

"The library" 

"Thank you very much" - you rush to get off your seat, planning to go directly there. The further from this woman - the better. 

"I was curious..." - why is she still talking??- "you study yet you don't attend university?" 

"I study from home" - you begin to explain - "my teacher don't care as long as i can pass my exams - but with the condition of my father...and now this job i just can't go the actual lectures." 

"Well it's incredible how you manage to pass the exams - do tell me" 

You cross your arms in front of your chest and smile proudly, it is true that you are doing well, even quite well, even though your only information is books and textbooks. 

"I study hard , and i don't give up easily" 

She chuckles , uncrossing her legs in order to stand up , reminding you how tall she actually is. 

"Go study then. I'll make sure to visit you later"

*****

You are amazed at the size of the library. The room is huge, with large windows that let in enough daylight for reading. In the middle of the room, you notice a long table, surrounded by chairs and red sofas. The bookshelves on the walls are perfectly arranged on next to eachother.  

And the books on them are not just taken from somewhere, you quickly notice that they are specifically chosen according to Miranda's tastes. Naturally you find children's books in several places, but what amazes you the most are the several volumes on detailed theology. Was Miranda a religious woman? 

You place all your things on the table, choosing to sit on one of the soft sofas. You notice a paper movie screen right in front of you. Home theater sounds great. But now you have another job - you open your laptop and lose yourself in studying. 

You don't know exactly how many times the clock on the wall has rung, announcing the new hour, when you hear the library door open. The clatter of heels on the floor distracts you and you turn to the center of the sound. Your eyebrows raise in pleasant surprise. 

"Well you look nice" - she definitely looked more than nice - "going somewhere special?" 

Surprisingly she returns your teasing smirk , before sitting down next to you with a sigh. 

"Oh i wish" - she scoffs - "Work. It's always work." 

She looks rather fancy for just work. 

Miranda wears a long red dress that highlights her figure too well. Her golden hair is neatly styled in a messy bun, revealing more of her ears, which you for the first time see decorated with only one pair of long earrings - in them you can notice small red stones that match her dress. The skin of her hands is devoid of expensive fabrics, but instead, long metal bracelets curl from her wrists to her elbows, which reflect the light of the lamps every time she makes some gesture with her hands. She's like a walking jewellery - especially after you note the pretty , darkish necklace wrapped around her neck , contracting her light skin tone. 

Too busy staring at her you don't see how her face becomes more and more annoyed with every passing second. 

"Can i see your textbooks?" - oh right, you were studying. You allow her to grab them from in front of you and she relaxes into the sofa as her eyes carefully scan the text written on the white pages. 

Then she makes a grimace. 

"Half of the things you're learning are bullshit" - her fingers join to follow the sentences in your textbook - "doesn't makes sense at all. You've been learning from this till now?" 

"Where am i supposed to learn from?" - you defend yourself, tapping a few times on the table with your fingers - "it's what our teachers want us to know and what they-" 

"Oh , trust me , dear - I'm sure i can teach you more than your professors will ever be able to." - her voice sparkles in confidence and she throws the textbook on the table in disgust, only to take another and make an even more annoyed grimace. 

"Yeah because I'm sure you have a degree on that" - she must be a good mood, because she actually laughs. It's more of a mockery but you still count it. 

"I don't need a degree for my job" - she crosses her legs , making the fabric of her dress to wrinkle - "and i still work in a laboratory all day" 

"Is it...cool?" 

Miranda decides not to answer, instead she makes a statement. 

"You too want to work in one" - she leans back and puts her hands on the back of the couch. You haven't noticed until now how shapely her long arms look. 

"I mean i think I'm supposed to" - your gaze shifts to your laptop and the tons of stuff you need to learn for your upcoming exam - "i told you about my father and his sickness. I want to cure him more than anything" 

Part of you fears the possibility of you achieving this goal way too late for him. 

"I never asked - what exactly is he suffering from?" 

"The doctors claim is a rare form of cancer" - you explain, playing with your fingers as you place your hands in your lap - "but the true is...even they don't know. All they do is give him expensive medicine and hope for the best" 

Miranda stays silent, she gives your laptop a look , then she finds the final textbook she threw on the table again and clears her throat. 

"As i said - i can teach you better than your professors" 

"There's no need to-" 

"I'll play nice and keep up to your messy studying plan but I'll make sure to give you important information and advices - make sure to write everything down." 

"Thank you, but-" 

She lifts her arm to stop you from talking. Then she gives you a glare - her eyes shine like golden stars. 

"I suggest you start writing, i don't have much time before i have to leave" 

After her words you just nod. Miranda starts reading and therefore dictating from your textbook while you take notes. From time to time she stops at some sentences to comment on how inaccurate they are - then she corrects them, completes them or totally tells you to forget them. 

Despite everything, you enjoy the moment between you. Her voice is smooth and sonorous and her explanations are really good - she talks about complex informations like a children's story and actually makes you understand and remember it. 

You feel like you can listen to her for hours. 

The library door opens again, then quickly closes. You turn around, distracted by the quiet footsteps entering the room , before Miranda could. 

"Mommy?" - Eva's soft voice echoes from behind her mother's back. Miranda immediately stops her talking and turns to her daughter with a smile on her lips. 

"Yes, love?" - the girl rushes to the sofa , peaks quickly at your stuff on the table before turning to her mother with a sorrowful expression. 

"My head hurts again" 

Miranda's smile drops faster than you can even blink and she presses her palm to Eva's forehead. Then she asks if it's very severe - the girl nods her head and the blonde woman wastes no time in pulling her daughter into her embrace. 

"You only have a headache?" 

"For now, yes" - such an answer doesn't please a worried mother. 

She quickly excuses herself and wishes you good night before rushing out of the room , leaving you yet alone with your studies. Looking down at your notes - you notice how much Miranda actually managed to help you and the corners of your lips curl up. 

***** 

You wake up with a breathless gasp only to feel your body like a heavy rock. Soon you discover you can't move at all. You panic.No matter how hard you try, you can't even move a finger. Your head is throbbing furiously as you try to snap out of the trance.

It's not the fact that you can't move that scares you - it's the silhouette at the end of your bed. The figure also stands still, observing you with golden eyes. Your breath hitches as you make the mistake to look deeply into those alluring yellow lights. 

You can't contain the scream urging from your throat as the silhouette looms over you , somehow making you to finally be able move your legs. You start kicking and soon tossing around the bed like crazy to get rid of the dark shadow above you. 

As you open your eyes again - you see nothing, it's gone. Was it even there? 

You quickly look at your phone only for the time to tell you it's the middle of the night. The moment you went to bed and fell asleep after studying, you started having another nightmare. And then you woke up just so your brain could keep playing tricks on you. You feel scared - you're not the person to often have nightmares but now... it's like they follow you even in the bright daylight. 

You need fresh air, you feel like you're suffocating. you quickly slip out of your bed and head to the window. But you never manage to open it. 

The view below takes your full attention. Thanks to an external lamp with white light you can tell two people apart. Miranda is coming back from her so called work quite late, but what surprises you is that she brings a man with her. 

He looks clumsy , way too happy and loud - it's obvious how drunk he is. He's talking something to Miranda but her expression is plain, she looks very out of place. If you look closely you can almost  caught a note of disgust in her eyes. She patiently waits for the man to stop talking before she can give him a response. 

You truly wish you could hear what they are talking about, however by opening the window you'll risk being exposed for spying. 

Miranda says something that changes the happy expression of the man into a horrifying painting. He's not a bad looking guy but there's something off about him - you can feel it. Soon he laughs again and this time the blonde woman follows his gestures. 

She plays her role good , perfect if you could say. You can feel her fake laugh without even having the chance to actually hear the sonority of it. 

As they finally open the front door, the man decides to walk in first, giving Miranda time to...lift her head to your window. 

Her lips are curled up in a cunning, daring smile. 

You back away immediately, feeling your heart skipping a beat. You decide you've had enough and go straight back to bed. Your door is locked so you don't worry about Miranda or that hideous man storming into your room. Yet you still force yourself to stay awake for a little longer, only to try and caught the sound their footsteps if they go upstairs. 

You don't hear another sound in the silent mansion for the rest of the night. 

Playing dangerous - Mother Miranda/reader

Warning for explicit content.

Chapter 2: The "interview"

You happen to have a strange dream that night. It's cold , the ground is wet while chilly darkness surrounds you - the pitch black colour of the night is meant to be scary, yet despite your poor vision you feel comfortable. The mist around you is so thick you can almost chew on it , it shields you from the monsters in the forest.

Your ears twitch when you hear rustling of leaves somewhere close , too close. Long , firm and steady - your legs are able to move faster than usual. Your body feels light as a feather and you run through the trees with ease.

Vision is easily manipulated. You only understand this when you no longer feel soil but cement under your feet. You wonder why your eyes betray you like that,...these eyes... do they even belong to you?

You are out of breath, your heart is racing, but you no longer hear the rustling in the forest. Even if you didn't know what was hidden there, your escape seemed to be necessary.

You don't manage to even turn your head before something hits you. The impact is so strong that your brain begins to pulsate , and you're barely breathing anymore for a totally different reason. A blanket of blood covers you and you barely keep your eyes open when…

The face staring at you is inhumane, grotesque and terrifying. Yet something about those dark, blue eyes seems awfully familiar...

*****

You wake up with a gasp. Eyes wide open , body sweating and mouth hanging open. You swallow, feeling your throat complete dry. Your limps are like boneless when you try to lift yourself up the bed , almost falling down on the floor in the process. You grab your head in sweaty palms and groan.

A nightmare, you haven't had one in years. The images in your head are already starting to fade as you slowly observe your surrounding. Where were you again?

The walls are painted in a pleasant white color, which makes the room to look cozier. It is small, but you can easily live in it. However, the fact that there is not much furniture indicates that it has most likely not been used for some time. And yet it is perfectly clean.

Maybe what you like the most is the individual bathroom. You also find it pleasant how the large window is near the bed yet the light from it does not fall on your face but instead tickles your feet. It's much better to wake up like this.

Feeling a little bit more relaxed you roll your shoulders back along with your head until you feel your back crack, releasing all tension from your body. Then you roll in the bed , stretching your arms and legs.

Now fully awake you find yourself staring mindlessly at the door, as if you expected someone to walk in any moment. When that doesn't happen you decide it's best to go to your car and get your suitcase. Even though the fabric of the nightgown is wonderful you want to wear your normal clothes.

You quickly check your phone. The disappointment is not very severe when you're met with a screen - devoid of any new notifications. Your gaze shifts to see the time - it's still early, you might be able to go get your suitcase before anyone can see you in your pajamas.

A few quick steps are enough for you to cross the room and get a hold of the door handle. Before you can press it though you hear a voice and then you move back as the wooden door opens from the outside.

"...good morning" - the little girl in front of you looks pretty young and despite her soft, sweet voice you can sense coldness in her tone. Her pursed lips expose her slight annoyance.

"Morning...who might you be?" - you force a smile , it's clear to you that the girl is Miranda's other daughter but as you remember the talk with Eveline from last night you try to look as clueless and friendly as you can.

"Eva" - a simple name , beautiful and symbolic. You glare at the kid in front of you - her face looks stone cold, her eyebrows are slightly furrowed as her blue eyes shine in precautionary manner, she looks mean...- "can you move?Now?"

Even her way of speaking reminds you of her mother...rude but not completely, there's a fake amiability covering her words. The girl is a complete copy of Miranda. Almost down to every detail - even her long , golden hair that is nicely tied up in a ponytail.

You surrender , lifting your hands in the air as you take a few steps back, to allow Eva to walk into the room. It's only then when you notice she's carrying your suitcase.

"Hey, that's a bit heavy for you don't you think?" - you extend your arm to grab it from her but she quickly moves to the side , not allowing you to even get close to the handle.

Did she carry the suitcase all the way up here by herself?

You don't have time to make another comment. The girl drops the heavy suitcase in the middle of the room and turns to you - surprisingly with a big smile on her face.

"I did it! You saw that right? I did it!" - Eva jumps around the room , happy and full of energy. Maybe you were too quick to judge her. She is a child after all.

You praise and thank her for bringing your suitcase and she giggles.

"Mommy just lost a bet" - the girl's smirk grows even more and you laugh along, pressing your back to the wall.

"What will you make her do?"

"Not sure yet" - her eyes travel between you and the door - "I'll probably ask her for sweets... speaking of it she expects you for breakfast"

"Breakfast... better to get ready then" - you murmur as you push yourself off the wall.

Eva is quick to run off , down the corridor. Before you can shut the door closed you hear her soft voice echoing from afar - telling you to hurry, as Miranda is not a patient woman.

You try to be fast , you don't want to disappoint your boss...more like future boss if you even get the job today, even more. Your fingers unzip the suitcase and you begin to pull out needed clothes. You don't go fancy with your outfit, though you think about it, but you reject the idea Miranda would go easy on you just because you dressed nicely.

However while brushing your hair you notice your car keys on the nightstand and your eyes widen. You're sure you locked your car last night. And the keys haven't been moved.

Then... how did they manage to take your suitcases from the trunk to your room?

*****

You take your time to find the right way to the kitchen. You vaguely remember the different rooms from last night. Even though you note the mansion is not that big as it seemed, you still need to figure out your way around.

You pass a familiar room - the table with the two armchairs are the same as last night. The only thing missing is the pile of ashes on the floor. And from there you make a turn to finally reveal the kitchen.

The light from the window illuminates the table, highlighting the unusually fruit-laden surface. The colors of the kitchen are a bit brighter than the rest of the house. It's welcoming. The decor of the mansion is really eye-catching.

The contrasts of light and dark colors are well chosen. It is strange how some parts of the estate feel warm while in others you can almost freeze to death. And the portraits, the details, the elements in the architecture are attractively perfect. The mansion surely matches it's owner.

Speaking of which... Miranda sits gracefully at the corner, with her legs crossed and elbows resting on the table. In her hands she holds a notebook whose inscription is in another language and you do not understand it. Her eyes are too busy staring at the rows to notice you.

She only acknowledges your appearance after you clear your throat. She lifts her head and smiles , one of her fingers points to a chair next to her - inviting you to sit.

"Slept well?"

"More than well , that bed is awfully comfortable" - you don't lie when you answer her , the mattress is very different from what you have at home - much more nicer and softer. To think that they don't even use this room... you never understood this , why buy a big house if you're not gonna use all the rooms. Miranda doesn't look like a person to often invite guests either. It's truly a waste.

As you take a sit on the chair next to her you notice how her vision unfocuses and her attention shifts completely off you. You turn your head to the direction of her gaze.

Eveline and Eva slowly approach the kitchen table, loudly discussing something. They both stop to greet their mother and as emerald colour eyes meet yours , you try to pretend you're seeing them for the first time. The test is easy.

"Eva informed me that you have already met her" - Miranda speaks proudly, with her hands on top of her daughter's shoulders. The little girl forces a smile , then she moves to escape her mother's grip - "but I'd like to present you to my other daughter"

Miranda watches closely , curiosity dancing in her eyes, as Eveline presents herself to you, for a second time.

"Wait" - you snap at the blonde woman, acting confused - "i thought you said I'll take care of one child?"

"Did i?" - her voice sounds so confident, so convincing...for a moment you forget yourself and the situation you're in - "I must have forgotten to mention about Eveline"

She's unbothered, her hand moves to the table, grabbing a cup of coffee, judging by the aroma of it , and she guides it to her lip , muttering an excuse as she takes a sip.

You don't have time to consider asking her another thing. A plate full of pancakes is shoved in front of you by the black haired girl. Silence falls around the table as you all begin to eat the breakfast - everyone except Miranda who only writes in her notebook and lifts her head from time to time to give sweet smiles to her children and sip from her coffee.

Her movements are quiet and you're too busy to wander in thought to anticipate her hands grabbing your shoulders sharply. She laughs at your reaction when you jump in your place. Miranda then whispers something in your ear and walks away , leaving you to battle alone with the piercing eyes of the two girls in front of you.

"Do you... know where to find your mother's office?" - you ask nervously, she could have just invited you there normally, why did she have to whisper it in your ear like that?

"Her office!?" - Eva exclaims , dropping her fork in the process - "How? Why!"

"She called me there!" - you defence yourself, not quite understanding what the fuss is about.

"Mother most likely invited her to the interview" - Eveline intervenes - "calm yourself"

Eva scoffs and purses her lips. Her arms are crossed in an annoyed manner as she speaks again.

"It's not fair! She doesn't even let us there"

The black haired girl's gaze falls upon you, her eyes are observing, curious,... vicious. If Eva got Miranda's looks then you are sure Eveline inherited her character and attitude.

"She must be special" - her eyes finally leave yours with these words. You can feel chills running down your spine and you rush to finish your breakfast so you can get rid of these kids as quickly as possible and go where Miranda has called you - to her office.

*****

After all none of the girls really told you where to find that so sacred room - making you wander through the mansion like an idiot. You decide to just knock on every closed door and hope for an answer. You suppose an office should be on the first floor and it doesn't actually take you that much time to find it.

A wooden door with a metal handle. Simple. You lift your hand and curl up your fingers. Miranda's sharp voice invites you in after a few knocks and you straighten your back before opening the door.

The smell of smoke hits your nose before you can notice the lit cigarette between her thin fingers. You resist the urge to cough, instead you close the door behind you and walk deeper into the room. A cunning smile appears on your lips.

"i thought you said you only smoke after long days?" - when she doesn't return your smile something snaps inside your brain, that is her second time lying to you, and it's not even been a full day.

"Sometimes even a morning can be long" - she puts out her cigarette by firmly pressing it on the surface of her desk, a closer look reveals the many small burn marks there , ruining a part of the furniture.

"You could have just told me you were a smoker"

"Does it matter?" - Miranda relaxes and leans against the back of her chair. Her legs cross again and the atmosphere around her changes.

"No..i was just-"

"Then , drop it" - she almost hiss the command, you gulp and obey immediately after she points at the chair in front of her desk. - "didn't your mother teach you not to stick your nose in other people's business?"

You bite your tongue just to stop yourself from snapping back at her. You clench your hands into fists so hard you can feel your nails digging into your skin. Miranda is amused by your reaction and finds it hard to hide her smile.

"Is something bothering you?" - that woman is way too rude. You relax your hands before answering her.

"I would appreciate it...if you don't talk about my mother" - she hums in approval but the look on her face is unsatisfied.

"Why?"

"She...I never got to know her" - you narrow your eyes as that familiar guilty feeling crawls back into your chest. You've always blamed yourself, how many nights you spent in wondering what her life would be if you weren't born? - "she died during childbirth, her first...and last."

Miranda's face is motionless , however her chest feels tight as well. She knows pain , she knows death...way too well. The blonde woman clears her throat to caught your attention and rests her elbows on the desk.

"A motherless child is a tragedy" - she declares , fingers fidgeting with the corner of a paper list in front of her- "almost as big as a childless mother, though yours got lucky...to die before her daughter"

Her comment snaps you back to reality and you really force yourself to stay calm , instead of running away from her , this room and house.

"Can we change the topic , please" - polite, just be polite and calm.

"Of course" - Miranda's hand moves along the desk until her fingers tap on the pack of cigarettes resting there , she opens it and groans - it's empty. - "i suppose...you have questions about Eveline. Now, she might not look like me but i assure you she's mine."

You wonder what she means by that. Despite the difference in their appearances you didn't once think Eveline is not her daughter. They are too much alike for you to even question that.

"I just assumed she looks more like your husband, maybe-"

"Husband?" - Miranda scoffs , there is a hint of mockery in her voice, she looks rather annoyed - "I'm afraid i have no interest in men"

Oh. Oh , great. You quickly understand you're dealing with one very mean lesbian. You don't judge her , not at all , but you're curious.

Your eyes follow the path of her fingers, her knuckles and veins. They stop at the shiny, silver ring wrapped around the fourth finger of her left hand. There's no doubt that's a wedding ring.

"Your wife , then?"

Miranda follows your gaze and the corners of her lips curl upwards, soon she smiles more widely than usual.

"I'm not married if that's what you're asking" - her hand jerks and the ring hits the surface of the desk with a tud , she doesn't even acknowledge it as it rolls down to the floor - "i just happen to adore jewelry."

Your careful observation of her hands proves that she doesn't wear any more rings , however you notice a dark necklace with rose elements wrapped around her neck , as well as the fancy earrings she wears - her ears are definitely pierced more than once. All of her jewelry shines within the sun's reach , making her look devine.

The awkward silence between you two grows with every second you spend in staring at her like a creep. Miranda finds this annoying, the paper she was playing with till now crumbles in her palm and the sound of it shakes you out of this weird trance.

"I remember vaguely about your young age..." - she starts again, trying to make the end of this conversation come faster - "but i don't recall asking about your education. Are you still in school?"

"In university actually"

"What do you study?" - Miranda is curious, not many people these days make it to university. Her desire to know more only grows with your answer.

"Well...for now I'm studying general medicine, but after that... I'm thinking of specializing in something higher"

The woman's smile is wide , revealing a nice set of white teeth beneath her soft looking lips. She is clearly interested.

"Do you want to be a doctor? A surgeon?" - her fingers tap on the wooden desk with every word, the almost silent sound somehow manages to crawl into your head and ring like a heavenly bell.

"More like a... scientist? I'm not sure yet.. but i do want to help people with diseases that are incurable."

"You want to cure something, no... someone specific" - Miranda's palms press on the desk and she lifts herself up , body hoovering over you - "Who?"

You take a sharp breath in , your fingers are trembling for some reason. Her eyes look crazy and awfully familiar but she's not scary. Then why are you afraid?

"My father" - you answer quickly , the memory of him fighting to take a breath running wild in your head - "i study so i can help him ...i- I'm here so i can pay for my education."

And other stuff you decide not to mention. But Miranda seems content, more than satisfied. She carefully sits back into the chair and sighs.

"You turn out to be very interesting" - her hand extend forward and you waste no time to grab and shake it with your own - "I'm looking forward to working with you"

"So i get the job?"

"All yours" - she confirms making your chest warm up with hope - "I've also decided to double your payment."

"Miranda...i don't think i can accept th-"

"If you think I'm pitying you - I'm not" - she snaps , her upper lip slightly twitching - "it's only fair if i pay you more , after all you're going to take care of both my children, correct?"

You nod slowly to show her you understand, even though you're nervously playing with your fingers in your lap you feel happy. Miranda's gaze lingers lower , somewhere under the desk as she speaks again.

"Speaking of which, i wanted to make it clear for you and i hope you understand" - the portrait of her face is yet again annoyed - "my children are no angels and trust me when i say I've lost more babysitters than you can imagine"

You laugh at the unusual way she says that. Lost...as if they all died. You nod again.

"I understa-"

"Lying was necessary" - she sounds concerned.

"I get it , i don-"

"They can be both difficult" - her gaze shifts to the floor again and she groans , looking awfully annoyed.

"I'm sure i can manage" - you give her a confident smile which she doesn't return.

"Very good then, remember your words" - she lifts herself up and slowly walks to a large cabinet near her desk , the long , black skirt she wear drags behind her on the floor like a dark veil - "i have a few rules you'll need to follow"

Of course she has rules. You hope it's nothing fancy or concerning.

"May I hear them?" - again, she doesn't return your friendly smile. Her moods are very... unique, easily changed and colorful as a rainbow.

"Your job is to take care of them , to entertain them. You're a babysitter, not a maid - I don't expect you to cook , clean or do anything like that"

"So... just wake them up, make sure they eat , play with them... do they go to school?" - while counting your duties on your fingers you tilt your head to the side , questioning her.

"They are homeschooled , i teach them everything they need to know" - she's back in her seat, holding firmly a piece of paper she got from the cabinet - "you can help them if they have any difficulties"

"I get it , anything else?"

"My job requires me to work from home...for now" - she looks to the side , glaring at a calendar on the wall , as if she's counting the days she will no longer work in the comfort of her home - "they know not to disturb me when I'm in my office or in the basement where my laboratory is , you can say I'm a scientist myself"

She gives you a warning not to go into her private space while she's busy , not like you were planning to. Yet you tell her you understand.

"Seems like I'm out of rules" - her fingers are alright crumpling the corners of the paper she's holding - "i do however have warnings"

"Let me hear them" - you sigh , leaning back into your chair and crossing your legs. A gesture that imitates her own body language.

"Eva can seem cold at first, she's not used to having other people around, but she's truly a sweetheart once she learns to trust you" - you notice how her face shines as she begins to talk about her daughter - "but i counsel you not to make any bets with her because she'll win and you'd probably loose something you love."

That makes you remember earlier when Eva managed to bring the heavy suitcase all the way up to your room. She said Miranda lost a bet with her. As your eyes meet her dark, blue ones you wonder what she promised to her little girl.

"Eveline is a complete opposite of her sister , she can very quickly become attached to you" - Miranda swallows as her eyes loose themselves somewhere down for a third time - "do be careful, she's more mature than she looks like"

Nothing she says surprises you, you drew these conclusions from your own observation of the children as soon as you met them. They are predictable, unlike their mother.

But Miranda...is weird. She looks young, too young for you to consider a mother with two children. If you were to see her on the street you'd think she's only a few years older than you. You also don't think she's the type of woman to carelessly get herself pregnant despite the fact that her daughters look nothing alike. She also claims to be unmarried but you're sure she owns a wedding ring. Miranda is a weird mystery.

"Is that everything, boss?" - she smirks at the nickname.

"I believe it is" - the paper which now destroyed corners is flipped and turned to you, finally revealing what it was - a contract - "I'll need you to sign this"

"Is this... necessary?" - you ask unsurely.

"Just sign , it's paperwork" - for a babysitter job?

You do as she tells you however you can't help but get this weird vibe, something is wrong. You don't know if it's her creepy smile or your trembling hand but the feeling slowly fades as the contract is pulled away from you - she stores it in the drawers of her desk this time.

Unbothered , she points at the door and waves you off. The sound of curious little feet running away from the entrance of her office as you press the handle makes you smile.

Once you close the door behind you - Miranda drops down to crawl on the floor , in search for her precious ring.

*****

Night comes faster than you expect. Today you understood that kids can be very exhausting but they are cute, you will give them that. As promised, Miranda only left her office to prepare lunch and then dinner, which you all ate together. She didn't have to tell her children what to study, they sat down and started reading and writing in the afternoon, on their own.

You can certainly get used to this life. Even if something bothers you, it will only be for a little while...you will endure. This is what you tell yourself as you lift the warm covers over your body and begin to drift to sleep on the comfortable bed.

One knock , then two , on the third you turn around, ignoring the sound and hoping you can escape from it. A few more follow and when you're sure they won't stop you open your eyes.

The time you spend trying to avoid things on the floor as you slowly make your way to the door seems like an eternity. But you manage and you gasp as you reveal who's behind all this knocking.

In front of you Eveline is crying, her face is red and puffy , her small hands appear to wipe away the tears that flow down her cheeks. Her head moves and she looks back in fear as if someone is chasing her.

"Is everything alright, sweetie?" - you kneel down to be at her eye level and you don't resist when she moves closer , her hands wrap around your neck and she hold you in a firm hug.

"Make them stop"

"Make who stop?" - you ask her , palms gently rubbing her back as she continues to sob on your shoulder.

"They keep on screaming, they won't stop" - she shakes while covering her ears - "make them stop , please make them stop"

"Is somebody here? Do you need me to get your mother?" - you ask nervously as you also begin to look around the corridor and the darkness within it.

"No!" - she exclaims , trying to break free from your grip, you allow her but she seems unsure in what to do. The tears continue to drop from her emerald eyes like rivers down her face.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

She shakes her head.

"Then what is it?" - you look at her with concern while she tugs on her pajamas.

"I can hear them..in the walls , they crawl on the floor and they scream" - she takes a deep breath as new clouds of tears appear in her eyes - "they scare me , they haunt me."

You don't hesitate to grab her hand and immediately start guiding her to Miranda's bedroom. You suprise yourself at how good you handle your steps in the dark. Eveline's sobs silence up when you knock on her mother's door.

For a moment nothing happens so you knock a few more times , only stopping when a lamp's bright light from inside suddenly shines between the cracks of the door.

Miranda's golden hair is messy and her face looks awfully sleepy as she greats you. Yet you notice a playful smile on her lips.

"I hope you're not getting used to waking me up in the middle of the night because-" - she stops when her eyes linger lower and she recognizes her daughter - "what's wrong, Evie?"

The black haired girl's hand jerks and you're forced to let go of her. She runs to Miranda and hugs her tightly, burying her head into the side of her stomach as she begins to sob again. Her mother's soft fingers run carefully through her hair.

"She probably had a nightmare" - you quickly explain, suddenly feeling your throat dry - "she was crying when she came to me and-"

"I didn't ask you"

You freeze. Miranda's voice can be sharp, and mean - you know that very well. But the way she said that , it sent shivers down your spine. You're too stunned to even try to apologies.

Eveline nods her head when her mother tells her to go into the room, you watch her slowly disappear from the door while Miranda's stone cold gaze stays on you.

"Children like attention, they seek it" - she begins to explain, making your vision focus again, on her - "i suggest you lock your door if you don't want to be bothered"

"Wait-"

The door is slammed closed before you can finish your sentence, the last words you hear are a rude "good night" from the blonde woman and then , a clicking sound.

However you stay at your place , staring at the floor, in front of the now locked door. You can hear their murmurs from inside but it's quiet , too quiet. You don't understand the things they are discussing.

You stay until the lamp from inside is turned off and you no longer see any source of light near you. You clench your hands into tight fists as you walk off.

This family is strange, and downright scary. What is wrong with them? What was Eveline talking about and why was Miranda acting like it was your fault?

You groan, grabbing your throbbing head in sweaty palms. You don't even consider locking your door , if it meant to ignore a child's cry for help then you weren't going to do it.

When you decide to go to bed again, however, you listen carefully to the silence and soon you tremble. Scraping, as if someone is trying to break through the wall. Loud banging , somewhere far , from the other rooms. Screaming from downstairs-

You run to the door, locking it not once but twice and you firmly hold the key in your hand while walking back to your bed. It's only then when you remember Miranda's words from earlier that day.

"My children are no angels".

I decided to start posting the full chapters of my fanfiction on here too, instead of sharing the links to my ao3 account. Enjoy!

Playing dangerous - Mother Miranda/reader

-

You make the mistake to accept an awfully suspicious babysitter job , fooled by fake smiles , at first sight innocent looking children and money...

Soon you begin to suffer the consequences of your decisions while the secrets of this unusual family start to reveal themselves one by one.

Will you survive long enough to discover them all?

-

Warning for explicit content.

Chapter 1: First impressions

The payment is high, way too high. Nobody gives that much money for a simple babysitter job - just to watch over a probably bratty kid. The job description is nothing but a phone number and a promise for a cozy , individual room. No specific requirements, no age or education restrictions , not even an address - nothing. You wonder what the catch is.

Yet...money is money , and you desperately need it at moment like this. The bed creaks as you unbend your legs to get up, and several of the many unpaid letter bills fall from it. Your steps are slow , your body is hot , you're sweating - it's awful to have a perfectly fine air conditioner and still not be able to use it , in a attempt to save as much energy and money as you can.

You nervously pick your nails while you wait for someone to answer the phone. At least the number is real , a fact that makes you less scared of the possibility to get absolutely scammed. A part of you relaxes when a woman's voice comes through the receiver.

The voice is thick and enthusiastic, almost melancholic. She talks so freely, each one of her words comes out perfectly timed and pronounced. Her tone is sweet , somehow motherly and very convincing. The hint of an accent is present but you don't pay it much attention. Though she says a lot of stuff in the few minutes phone call , you manage to collect the needed information - which is the address and more details for the job.

Gripping the list with the address on it , quickly written during the short conversation, you stare at the computer screen with your bottom lip between your teeth. Your right leg shakes a little with every button you press , a big part of you still worried the said address is false.

However when the online map reveals the place you take a deep , calming breath. It's real , not a scam, not a joke. The satellite view shows a big mansion, separated from the nearby cities with several acres of dense forest. A few hours trip from your house, you look outside the window to peak at your car - fill it up with gas and you'll safely arrive at your destination.

Of course the house would be a mansion, you are even surprised it's not a castle, rich people tend to live isolated from others. You never understood this , but you are no stranger to the fancy house on the outskirts of big cities. Must be nice - quiet, peaceful,...lonely.

Your kitchen is less hot than your bedroom, due to the open window. The fridge is almost empty, with the departing of your father and the tight money budget you have stopped eating normally, to have a few full meals a day was a miracle, little snacks through the day were your saviour. You're not even hungry right now , but you stare at the leftover food , without blinking, for a moment you allow the darkness of the night to surround you, the silence is almost consuming. Then you shut the fridge door with a loud bang while your face grimaces.

You desperately need the money.

As you take your path down the corridor back to your bedroom, your your gaze shifts to the door of your father's room. It's empty and despite the hot weather it's cold , chilly even. When you open the door your nose wrinkles at the unpleasant smell of pills. The poor man takes them everyday and still nothing, the sickness still remains in his body - eating him from the inside out. The doctors said he was getting better and soon he might live normally again, on his own. That was few months ago, last night he was rushed to the hospital. You remember his face , the fear of death completely covering it. You remember his body - twitching around like a worm. He was getting better, but now you aren't sure if he'll manage to wake up again. His coma-like state can last for hours, days, months or even years...

You have hope , of course, but hope can easily turn you into a prisoner of your own mind before it disappears completely.

As the strong smell of medicine hits your nose , you turn on your heel to get out of the unpleasant room. You fear the smell might actually soak in your body and bones if you stay here a little longer. The promise you made to your father when he first started showing more serious symptoms fades with every step you take , closer to your bed.

What is the point in getting into med school if you can't pay your education? Will the dream of finding a cure for your father's unknown sickness be ever achieved? You close your eyes as you kick the blankets away from your already heated body. With the money from this job you can pay the house bills, the hospital bills and your semester, it's definitely worth a try.

Just a few months there and you can pay all of your debts. Your focused mind manages to relax and soon you fall asleep. Just a few months... everything should be okay...or at least you hope it would be.

***

You don't have a lot of things to pack up so you don't waste time in preparing your luggage - just a simple suitcase full of clothes and other necessary stuff, nothing fancy.

You quickly check your watch and smile upon seeing you're just in time to get going. A few hours trip from here , with normal speed and no stops.. you should be able to arrive at the agreed hour.

When you start your car , music blasts from your radio and you begin to hum along, trying to sing all the lyrics correctly. The road is long , the music is loud , the car is awfully hot but you're happy , exited even.

However, less than an hour after your departure it starts to rain. At first you're pleased, the cold rain will cool the road and make the journey more pleasant. But as you watch it turns into a strong and scary storm, your smile slowly evaporates from your face. Soon the whole sky goes black , filled with dark clouds, while the only light that can be seen is from the periodic , heavy , thunders. Their loud roar seems like it's going to tear the sky apart and it makes you shiver every time.

It's unusual, you checked the time and no thunderstorm was forecasted for today. The heavy rain makes it impossible to drive normally, you turn down the music in order to hear better if a car is approaching. The car wipers constantly wipe the wet windshield while you narrow your eyes so you can get a better view of the unrecognisable road.

Suddenly a flash of light brown colour runs Infront of your car and before you can even react - you hit it. Your breath hitches after the strong impact while your hands firmly squeeze the steering wheel, and your heart beats fast and irregularly. After you manage to calm down, you unbuckle your seat belt and open the door with trembling fingers.

The animal is still breathing when your gaze meets it's bloodshot eyes. You know the deer is going to lose it's fight with death, so you wait patiently, staring at it's huge, sharp antlers, the thich , dark blood pours from it's wounds - forming a bloody crown around it's head , and only when it takes it's last breath you get back in your car to get your phone and call the police. The animal is too large to be just left on the road , and your feeling of guilt towards it is too big not to help , even after you watched it die. Helpless and innocent, the deer's life didn't deserve to end like this.

While you wait you take a peak at your car - the deer hasn't done very severe damage but it'll definitely cost a lot to fix. You laugh. You haven't even started working and you're already wondering if the payment will be enough for you.

Unfortunately you don't care as much about this needless death as you do about the time you wasted explaining to the cops what happened and waiting for them to move the deer. Now you glare at your watch with a grimace, it's impossible to be on time , even the storm is not over yet... being late is a very bad first impression.

But it looks like the world is working against you.

***

You're already way too late, your eyebrows are furrowed and you clench your jaw when your connection gets lost and your navigation disappears. You curse , moving your head in different directions , trying to spot a car , a house, even a lonely walker would be helpful right now. You know you're almost there but without the online map you're not sure which road to take exactly - if you choose poorly and wrong you'll be even more late , you start to wonder if it's even worth it anymore.

Finally, as a gift sent by the gods, a red light shines in your eyes, so bright you almost close them completely. But as you force yourself to take a closer look, you smirk from ear to ear -a gas station.

The rain is so strong, it completely soaks your clothes as you make a quick run from your car to the automatically opening doors. Unfortunately for you there is a working air conditioner , blowing it's cold wind right at your damp body , and you shiver as your slippery legs guide you to the worker behind the cash register.

He looks old , his face is wrinkled and covored in tiny scars, it's mostly the salt - pepper beard that gives away his age. His eyes shine when he notices you, as if you're the first person he's seen in years. He's almost happy as you are , to finally see someone living after this old , boring road and dark , scary storm.

"Good evening, Miss" - his voice is raspy and rough, as he open his mouth a strong smell of alcohol hits your nose but you try to stay as still as possible, not trying to be rude - "Anything i can help you with?"

"Evening.." - you say with a burning feeling on your tongue, it was in fact evening and you were supposed to be at the mansion in the afternoon... You shove your hand in your pocket and pull out the crumpled piece of paper with the address written on it - "Do you know how i can get here?"

He carefully takes the paper from your fingers and his eyes quickly scan the ink on it. His smile drops and he gives you a concerned look as he puts the paper back into your hand.

"Nobody lives there , Miss"

Your body goes stiff and you swear you feel your heart stop for a moment. You blink a few times , hoping he's going to laugh any second now and reveal his awfully out of hand joke. When his face stays completely the same , you grit your teeth.

"What do you mean by that?" - you note how loud and rude your voice turns out to be and you try to lower it as you speak again - "I'm supposed to go there for a babysitter job...and i even talked with this woman Mir...mar.. what was her name again..-"

At that he cuts you of with a ringing laugh, then he coughs, an effect of his age, and the picture in front of you reminds you of your father, in those terrible evenings when he couldn't breathe normally from his terrible cough.

"You should have just said you were one of them!" - he continues to laugh as his hand moves to grab a bottle of water and he quick drinks the half of it with ease.

"Them?"

The water bottle, now completely empty and crumpled , flies right next to you and as you turn your head to follow it - your gaze catches it just as it falls into the trash can. The man puts his hands in the air and smiles , that must be an entertainment for him, then he clears his throat.

"One or two years ago , I'm not very certain, people started going to this house, with the same story as yours - this 'babysitter job' " - he makes air quotes with his fingers in a mocking, unsure way , then he continues - "a lot of people disappeared you know...even the police got involved yet nobody was found guilty."

As he continues to talk about the mysterious disappearances you loose yourself in thoughts, his story sounds way too familiar yet a part of you still hopes for his information to be wrong. You somehow convince yourself you'll still go , if nobody is there like the man says - you'll simply go back...and try to find another high payed job , which is nearly impossible.

"If you could give me directions on how to get there... I'll be thankful" - you wait for the perfect moment to talk back , just as he stops to caught his breath, you quickly note he doesn't only like to talk a lot but he does it rapidly. Some of his words even mess up with the others , making his sentence impossible to understand.

"You still want to go?" - he scoffs , fixing the name tag on his uniform - " These days... only the stupid or the brave wander there."

His glare was curious in which one you are , but your story was completely different.

"I'm afraid i have no other choice"

He blinks and his expression changes to a mocking grimace. A low whisper "the stupid" leaves his lips causing your hands to curl into fists but your tense body calms down as he slides his chair back, a map is hung on the wall behind him and he points the road you need to take with a pen. You try to quickly remember and memories it as he moves back forward.

"A pretty lady like you... shouldn't go to such dark place" - he says , and even though his words sound inappropriate you wonder if he's right, if that's the right choice - "better run back home, little deer"

"Have a good evening, sir"

You don't thank him as you walk outside. It's still raining but not as hard as before. You don't even bother to check your watch , knowing that even time is against you now. As you start your car and drive towards the mansion, your eyes wander at the road behind you. And you shake your head.

There's no turning back now.

***

Just as promised the grand , dark house is only surrounded by woods and nothing else. You park near the building and sigh with relief when you spot another car there. It looks new , a fancy looking dark jeep , with tinted windows and big tires. You walk around it , admiring the car's beauty.

And then your gaze shifts to the building. The gothic architecture of the mansion is magnificent , consuming, awfully alluring despite it's creepiness. It's exterior consists of dark gray stone, with pointed arches, ribbed vaults and carved moldings. The roof has numerous decorative features. Tall, arched windows are scattered around the building, and are made of stained glass that would probably reflect various colors in the sunlight if the sky wasn't as dark as the colour of the mansion.

You wonder what it would look like during the day if it looked so devine at night. You don't even realise how the gothic building has stopped your breathing for a second. It's beauty pulling you in , as if with a string connected to your soul. The atmosphere feels wrong, yet perfect at the same time.

You stop right in front of the main entrance and you swallow hard. The big , carefully carved symbols of deer's heads on the doors are the only thing that you didn't seem to like in this mansion. The image in front of you makes you remember your wet clothes and how sticky they are on your skin. You move uncomfortable, looking down at your feet, knowing your shoes and socks are damped not in rain water but in dark blood from the animal you killed on that road.

You're scared that memory will hunt you forever.

You knock a few times on the hard , wooden surface of the doors and when nothing happens you turn your head only to see a button for a ring bell. You press it and bite your lip as the loud ringing echoes through the house. You don't wanna wake anyone up , you know it's a bit (very) late but...

You ring again when nobody answers the first time. And again. And again until a shine of light from an upper window pours onto your face and body. Then you back away as you patiently wait for the almost silent steps from inside to reach the entrance. And as the doors finally open , you take a deep breath, straighten your back , shoulders back and chin up, fake smile on your dry lips. You try your best to look professional.

The first thing you notice when you see the woman that opened the door is how tall she is. Maybe if you try to measure it and walk next to her , the top of your head would be slightly above her chest. The darkness around you works against your vision and her full face is not on display but you can see parts of her attractive features, her dark blue eyes and mostly her golden hair. It pours like river around her neck and shoulders, and you note it's messy, meaning she was sleeping till now. Even though she just woke up, she looks divine and you curse yourself for forgetting her name.

"I'm so sorry to bother you this late, ma'am" - you excuse yourself and extend your hand , when she only gives it a glare - you retreat it, feeling embarrassed - "I'm... here for the babysitter job , we talked on the phone if you remem-"

"You're late" - her voice is sharp as a blade and you shiver , not completely because of the cold weather - "You were expected three..no, four hours ago , correct?"

Chilly wind rustles past you, making her pull her black robe tighter around her body. You are both cold , and you want to finish up this conversation so badly.

"There was an accident on the road and I-"

Before you can continue your story she puts her hand up , silencing you immediately.

"I don't need to know , that information is useless" - she declares while her lips twitch and she give you an unpleasant look - "what matters is that you have awaken me in the middle of the night with that hideous bell."

Your mouth opens to protest, it's not even that late , she's making a big deal over nothing, however you can agree with her , It's inappropriate to bother someone in such annoying way but it's her mean tone and words that bothers you. Yet you stop yourself before you can say what you really think. Instead you rephrase your sentence before speaking it out loud.

"Ma'am, respectfully, we can argue all night, but it's raining and my clothes are soaked." - you want to point out how she's in a perfectly fine condition but you decide it's better if you reject that though . Her impression for you it's probably very low , you don't wanna bury it completely.

The woman gives you a glare , then she slowly pokes her head outside, looking carefully around, while small drops of rain land on her golden locks. As her gaze locks on your car she asks with a soft tone:

"Are you alone?"

"Yes" - you quickly answer, your body even more tense than before. Why does she ask about you being alone? Weird.

"Come in, then" - the invite is short and quiet but you waste no time in following her into the mansion. Her walk is slow , elegant, in an attempt not to stare at her legs you move your gaze up and then around the house. It's dark so you can't see much , the decor and furniture are mostly black with a hint of red , everything is nicely placed and organised. The only bad thing is that the inside of the mansion feels even colder than the weather outside.

"I'll prepare you a cup of tea. You may rest there" - she points to a small table with two soft-looking armchairs and you sit on one of them while she makes a turn for another room, probably the kitchen. You allow yourself to look around, now seeing the inside better since she turned on a few lamps , the mansion is huge, you don't even remember the way to the door.

Too busy to admire the spectacular paintings on the walls , you don't hear her when she approaches you again. You only turn your head to her when she cleans her throat.

The tea is amazing, the temperature is just perfect, not too hot in order to save the herbs in it , while the sweetness is not from sugar but honey. You lick your dry lips as you continue to take small sips.

The woman doesn't speak to you, she gets something from the table and when you take a look at the object in her hands - you note it's a pack of cigarettes.

"Do you want one?" - she softly asks , one hand extended to you while the other is back on the table in search for something else. Her lips curl up when she finds her lighter.

"I don't smoke" - the moment you refuse, she retreats her arm and her fingers work quickly to get herself a cigarette. The flame from the blue lighter burns the tip of it. Her soft looking lips wrap around the cigarette and she inhales , her back presses to the seat of the armchair while the cigarette smoke drifts from her lips to cover her face behind a vivid veil.

"Me neither...i just can't resist, after a long day" - you nod to show that you understood and she smiles , her face becomes even more attractive as she does.

The woman's fingers shake the thin cigarette and you watch as the ashes from it fall to the perfectly clean floor. You're surprised, she doesn't look like a person who would dirty their house like this. Yet she does it again, and again, till her cigarette is finished and she tosses it to the floor, right on top of the ashes.

The silence that grew between you is so thick you can actually try and probably succeed to cut with a knife. She fidgets with the pack of cigarettes in her hand while ignoring your staring. You quickly realise she's waiting for you to say something.

"I apologise again, for bothering you like this , ma'am."

"Don't you think it's a bit late to be so formal?" - she chuckles , her left hand playing with the edges of her nightgown. You note she can't sit still without doing something with her hands , like holding or fidgeting.

"I'm sorry, ma-"

"Just Miranda is fine" - so that is her name, you promise yourself you'll try to remember it - "and stop apologising, so annoying..."

You also discover she can be awfully rude from time to time. But you're sure you can handle her. Which reminds you of asking more about the job. However before you can do that , Miranda cuts you off.

"It's getting late , we will talk more tomorrow during your interview"

"My interview?" - you question , tilting your head to the side. You didn't know there is going to be an interview, you thought the job was yours already! You haven't prepared yourself for anything like this. What if she asks you questions you're not ready or simply don't have the knowledge to answer?

Seeing you panic amuses her and she gives you another smile.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-five" - her question confuses you even more but to your suprise she looks pleased.

"So young..." - she whispers, her fingers now playing with the lighter, making the fire appear and disappeared in short, rapid seconds - "i assume you don't have children, correct?"

"No , I don't...but what does it mat-"

"Then I won't expect you to understand how careful i am when it comes to my daughter, accepting you into my house is me pitying you" - she places the lighter on the table and crosses her legs as she turns her full attention to you - "but if you wish to stay, i must be certain i can trust you"

"I think i understand... you have your reasons"

"Very good" - she stands up and you immediately follow her gesture , Miranda then points at the staircase - "your room it's upstairs, the only open door, you'll easily find it."

She walks away from you faster than you can process. When she's almost in the room next to the one you're currently in , you decide to speak.

"Goodnight, Miranda"

That makes her stop , and she turns to look at you while you begin to walk up the stairs.

"Sleep well" - is all she says , before her fingers press the light switch and she allows the darkness of the mansion to consume her.

***

As said there is only one room with an open door at one of the corridors upstairs. The upper part of the house is a little bit more warm and you walk slowly to your room, careful not to trip and fall down since the absence of light still remains and you can barely see a thing.

You press your shoulder to the door frame while your hand roams along the wall in search for a light switch. When you finally find it and press the room lights up and you smile. But then you look up and almost fall backwards.

In the middle of the room stands a little girl, motionless and staring right at you. Dressed all in black, she looks as if she's blending into the night without a care. The fingers of her left hand twitch and she blinks , covering her emerald colour eyes.

You shake your head and move forward. You got scared of a child, just a child. The girl's eyes follow your strictly from when you were at the door till now , as you're right in front of her. Your knees bend so you can be at the same eye level as her.

"Hey sweetie, you are Miranda's daughter, right?" - you try to be as polite as possible, all while giving her a wide smile. Get the kid to like you and the mother will love you.

"Her second, yes" - the girl moves to a side and begins to circle around you, and your mind is occupied by what she just said , plus the awful squeaking of the wooden door.

"Second?" - you ask with a hint of unsurenes, your eyes try to follow the black spot the girl is becoming as she moves faster around you. For a moment you loose her , as you begin to quickly look around for her the door slams closed and you jump , the unexpected noise scares you so much you almost scream.

"Don't you think it's weird?" - her voice echoes behind you and you turn to find emptiness, your head rapidly spins around, trying hard to spot the little girl - "so much money just to take care of a single child? What's the catch?"

"What is it?" - you repeat after her , unfocused and nervous.

"Sweet little Eva is the bait" - the voice sounds so clear behind you , it makes you immediately turn back to finally be face to face with the girl. She then points at herself - "but I'm the catch , and i get to choose."

"What...what do you mean, who are you?" - you pour the questions out while grabbing your forehead , your head felling a little dizzy.

"I told you, I'm Miranda's daughter...at least that is what she says" - she whispers the last part , then takes a few steps to the bed and sits down , a smile appears on her face as she presents herself - "but if you wish to know my name - It's Eveline."

"So... your mother lies about only having one child, ..why?" - your head feels better now , and you blame it on the shock this girl managed to do to you in just a few minutes.

"It's easier to find someone who'd like to take the job...and i guess I'm difficult" - she lowers her head and begins to play with her fingers - "but it's okay because mother allows me to choose...if you'll get this job or not"

"What? What about the interview?"

"She'll only listen to my opinion, amuse me and the money you so desperately need is yours , disappoint me and you're out of here" - Eveline smiles , even though she looks no more than ten years old she talks like an adult.

"Okay... what's ...your favourite colour..?" - you raise your shoulders in unsurenes as she rolls her eyes at you.

"Don't be silly, I'm not in the mood to play twenty questions with you"

You raise your hands in the air and walk back.

"Look, i don't know what exactly you want from me but I-"

"Do you have any siblings?" - Eveline interrupts you , her face covored in curiosity. As you observe her visage closely you note how she doesn't look like Miranda at all.

"I don't, but I'm good with kids , i assure you"

Eveline hums in approval, then she looks around the room , as if lost in thoughts. You cross your arms when her gaze falls upon you again.

"Are you in a relationship with someone?"

"I have a boyfriend, yes" - even though it's weird of her to ask you this , you decide not to question her. All you need to do is give her the answers she wants to hear and hope for her to whisper good things about you in Miranda's ear.

"And how long do you plan to stay here?"

"Till my father gets better, he's sick and needs help"

"He needs money" - Eveline smirks and maybe that gesture is the only thing that reminds you of Miranda in her.

"That's why I'm here , Eveline, i hope both you and your mother understand."

The little girl jumps off the bed and slowly walks to the door, before she can press the handle she turns to look at you.

"Your test is simple" - she whispers , and the corner of her lips curl up but his time her smile look genuine - "don't mention anything about me or this conversation until mother decides to present me personally to you."

"I understand"

Eveline opens the door and walks down the corridor, leaving you alone. Once you hear another door to open and close you shut and lock yours. Standing still in the middle of the room you realise your clothes are still soaked, and your suitcase is far away , in the car.

You curse, looking around the cozy looking room. Then you spot a pile of clothes on the bed. Your feet quickly guide you to it but you realise it's only a nightgown and a robe. Still... better than nothing.

You're glad you have your own bathroom. The warm water is like heaven on earth and the expensively smelling shampoos clean your body to perfection. You put the white nightgown on and waste no time to crawl under the covers.

A big part of you feels disappointment when you check your phone and see no new notifications. No news from the hospital, not a single call from your boyfriend, not even a message. You sigh and turn off your phone. He promised he would find time to call you today, he promised. You close your eyes and soon fall asleep.

Your last thought is how strange this mansion is, along with the family that lives there. maybe the man from the gas station was right, you should have escaped while you had time.

Now you're left to wonder if you too will end up like the innocent deer.

heatwave

umbrella scientist miri 🤭

Save crazy scientist Miranda save me

does this look ok guys😭😭

The lamb who tasted the wolf

Mother Miranda x OC/Reader (oneshot)

Rating: Explicit

(This was mostly just me playing around with a different writing style and some imagery. Enjoy!)

The cacophony of voices and shuffling of dress shoes on cobblestone slowly peters out as the villagers filter through the door of the chapel, back to the dirt streets that lead home. The sun is shining brightly on this holy day, a rare gift for the inhabitants that live in this valley. Rays of light filter through the stained glass of the chapel, giving an ethereal glow to the old wood of the pews and structural beams. As the din of the voices ceases completely, one little lamb remains knelt at the seat of the first pew, only feet from the raised altar, her hands clasped together, resting in her lap. Her head is bowed.

Soft, echoey ‘clacks’ of heels cross the pulpit and the lamb raises her head to glance at the source before snapping her head back down in respect. With a frown she anxiously tugs at her Sunday dress, the neckline pulling tight against her chest. She was due for a new one that fit properly, but the harvest had taken a toll on everyone this season, so it would have to wait.

The heels cease their clacking directly in front of the girl on the ground and a cold yet smooth voice floats through the air. “What ails you, little bird?”

The girl clasps her hands tighter where they rest against her thighs and she takes a deep, shaky breath.

“Mother Miranda forgive me, for I have sinned.” 

The priestess does not shift from her spot in front of the girl as her voice permeates the air once again. She sounds almost bored. “And, what sin have you committed?” 

The girl fidgets with her dress again, feeling restricted by its tightness. “I see the way the young men of the village look upon me. I hear the elders speak of how I will age to be a spinster should I keep rejecting proposals, but…” Her eyes flitter to the side with anxiety and her small voice wavers. “There is another on my mind.” 

“Who is this object of your affection?”

Fearful tears begin to pool in the corners of the girl’s eyes, threatening to soil her dress lest they fall. Her voice comes out in a whisper. “Therein lies the sin, Mother.”

The shuffling of clothing can be heard before a soft, cool finger crooks under her chin to tilt her head up. Mother Miranda has knelt in front of her, robes folding against themselves as they pool on the cobble floor. Through a golden, gilded mask, the girl looks deep into steely blue eyes, and she is transfixed.

“Who, child?” 

A single tear leaks over the edge and rolls down the girl’s soft, pink cheek. She trembles.

“Forgive me, Mother Miranda, for every Sunday I have lecherous thoughts of them.”

Mother Miranda does not speak, only stares directly into the girl’s eyes. It’s too much for the young woman and she squeezes her eyes shut, unable to hold God’s gaze. Another tremble shakes her frame. “The object of my desire… is you, Mother.”

She keeps her eyes firmly shut, only able to handle a few moments of silence before she cries out, tears streaming down her face. “Forgive me!”

Tenderly, like a newborn fawn seeing for the first time, the young woman blinks her watery eyes open. Her breast is heaving in short, shallow breaths as she continues, struggling against the constraints of her dress. “The men leer at me as though I am a prize to be won. I am not unaware of how I look. But my heart lies not with any one of them. It lies with you.” She takes a shaky breath. “Every Sunday, here in the chapel.”

The silence is deafening and she finally turns her face away from the priestess, ashamed.

“Do not look away from me.”

Unable to control her own body, the girl turns back to face the very object of her sin and her salvation. Mother Miranda’s expression is unreadable as she speaks, the same intensity every present in her eyes.

“You harbor such desires for me?”

Tears fall freely as the young woman nods her head.

“For how long have I been in the forefront of your thoughts at night?”

Memories of nights she’d spent imagining the priestess flash before her eyes and a blush works its way up the girl’s chest. “For years… Mother Miranda.”

Shock briefly flashes in the blonde’s eyes before her usual, scrutinizing expression returns. If anything, she seems to stare more intensely than before.

“You have desired me for years and said nothing?”

The young woman unconsciously bites her lip. “This desire of mine. It is sacrilege. The things I have imagined…” She shakes her head as though to shake the very thoughts away. “I thought it would dissipate. But it grew.”

The fingertip on the young woman’s chin slides up and along her jaw until the priestess is cupping her face with a single hand, thumb precariously close to her bottom lip.

“‘The things you have imagined’, hmm? What things plague your mind?” 

The girl's face turns a deep shade of red and her eyes flit about the room, as though looking for a distraction to save her. Panic blossoms in her chest and she squirms where she kneels. Her knees bite into the hard floor. “Please… do not make me speak those images aloud to you now.” 

Mother Miranda’s head tilts to the side, studying the girl in her grasp. 

“Speak them. These sinful images of yours. I want to hear every single one.” 

The young woman trembles, her heart threatening to race right out of her chest. If this is my penance, she thinks to herself, then I shall pay.

“I-I have imagined…” she trembles harder, like a leaf in a blustery breeze. “...a different kind of worship.”

The priestess leans slightly forward, invading the girl’s space as her hand squeezes her jawline. 

“And how would you worship me?” 

The girl’s pleading eyes lift to stare wide and round into her deity’s, but she finds no mercy. “I have never spoken any of it aloud. Even to myself at night when I am alone.” 

“You will speak every — single — sinful — thought — you have had about me. No matter how wicked.”

The young woman shivers once more, but she steels her resolve and speaks, eyes fixated on the blue ones she dreams of so oft. “I imagine… my mouth between your legs. With your hand in my hair guiding me to where you want me most.” She swallows a lump in her throat, and her voice comes out hushed, barely above a whisper. “I imagine… your fingers… pressed in me, your lips on mine.”

Mother Miranda’s eyes trail the girl’s throat as she swallows before lifting her gaze back up. “Tell me, little bird.” If the girl didn’t know any better, she’d say the priestess’ voice sounded slightly strained. 

But she did know better.

She did.

“In these images of yours, how do these scenarios play out?”

“In my dreams,” The young woman feels a wetness pool between her thighs at her confessions, and her eyes dart to the front of the pulpit before returning to Mother Miranda’s intense stare, “you take me on the altar…”

The girl’s lip trembles as the thumb on her chin presses up and slowly slips between her lips as Mother Miranda speaks in a measured tone. “Right on the altar, hmm?”

Her thumb begins to rub back and forth against the young woman’s tongue, the blonde’s eyes never leaving her face, and it sends a jolt through the girl’s body. Hesitantly, she begins to suck on it, not daring to take her eyes away from the blonde’s gaze. A soft gasp escapes the priestess, so quiet that if the girl weren’t directly in front of her it would have gone unheard. The heat between her legs grows.

Mother Miranda presses the thumb deeper into the girl’s mouth, pushing down on her tongue as the girl sucks on her. “Such an impure thing. To think such thoughts of your priestess.”

The girl only nods, lost in a haze as she suckles and a light moan vibrates in the back of her throat. Mother Miranda’s movement stops and after a moment she pulls her thumb away. Her breath comes in slightly more labored than before and her pupils eclipse most of her iris. She reaches up to lift her golden mask away, tossing it unceremoniously onto the ground, allowing her long hair to flow freely down her shoulders. 

The young woman gasps at the face of her deity, and demurely stares up at her with wide, round eyes. Miranda’s hand snatches out once again to grip the girl’s chin tightly, nails digging into her skin, and the pressure of it feels worth every moment she spent praying, every Sunday she arrived to the chapel early to get a seat in the front pew, every bruise on her knee.

“Come closer, little bird.”

Her grip draws the girl nearer to her face, making her crawl on her knees until she is mere inches away, her breath fanning the priestess’ face. Though she would never complain, willingly following the bidding. “I am yours to command.”

Mother Miranda inhales sharply through her nose. “Worship me, then, little dove. As you have been wanting for so long.”

There is a moment of hesitation, the only sound echoing throughout the chapel being the exhale of the young woman in disbelief at the blonde’s words. As soon as the command registers, the girl wastes no time rushing into the priestess, hands softly clutching at the woman’s waist as she presses kiss after kiss into the woman’s neck and under her chin, tiny moans passing through her lips as she works. She feels delicate fingers thread through her hair, pressing her closer. The other hand still clutches her chin, forcing her as close to the blonde as possible.

The girl’s arms wrap around behind Mother Miranda, fingers splaying across her shoulder blades as she sinks lower. “Mother Miranda. I wish to worship you here.” She breathes out against the blonde’s clothed chest.

“Then worship me there, little sinner.” Her voice is ragged as she speaks, a tone the girl has never heard before. She reaches a single hand up to gingerly pull at the zipper on Miranda’s robes, dragging it down her spine, releasing the priestess’ upper body from the confines. Light kisses are peppered across Miranda’ throat as the girl pulls the cloth away from pristine skin, down, down, down until the fabric pools at her waist. 

“You are even more beautiful than I imagined…” The young woman whispers out, marveling at the new skin revealed to her. She traces scattered freckles with light fingertips, familiarizing herself with Miranda’s body, before once again leaning forward to place her mouth on a perfect breast. The girl moans as she lavishes her tongue against soft skin, relishing the ability to touch the woman of her affection, to love her as she’s dreamed it for years. Her hands stroke up and down the priestess’ sides, delighting in the feel.

The hand buried in thick hair tightens its grip as the girl works her way back up Mother Miranda’s neck, then to her ear. “I want to taste you. Please, can I?” It comes out breathy and wanton.

“Yes, little bird, taste your God.”

A shiver runs up the girl’s spine at the permission and she drags her mouth down Mother Miranda’s front as she shifts further back on her knees. She pulls the black robes further down the blonde’s thighs and she gasps upon seeing her priestess’ glistening core for the first time. Her body practically vibrates with a mix of devotion and desire and she breathes out in reverence, “you’re perfect…”

Mother Miranda leans back, resting her weight on a single palm as her other hand comes to lie gently on the young woman’s shoulder as she leans in closer to hover just before her glorious prize. She plants kisses like little prayers up the skin of inner thighs, from knee to center, and then snakes her hands around to caress the swell of Mother Miranda’s hips as her mouth descends.

The lamb tastes the wolf.

At the first touch of the young woman’s warm, wet tongue, Mother Miranda’s head rolls back, her eyes closing as pleasure begins to grow and a single, perfect hand flies to the girl’s hair, tangling through the strands to form a firm grip. The girl worships, moaning as she does, tongue swirling around, tasting the skin of her priestess, rejoicing with every pant that falls from the blonde’s lips. 

Mother Miranda’s grip tightens, pulling the girl further into her, her pants transitioning into soft moans, and the girl takes the hint, pressing her tongue past the blonde’s entrance and into the soft, silky heat of her core, groaning into warm, wet folds as he does.

“Little bird—ah…yes..” The priestess pants out, hand clutching tightly, preventing the girl from moving away, “... just like that.”

Not that the young woman would ever move away. She would rather suffocate here at the altar of her God. Her hands grip Mother Miranda’s hips a little tighter, fingers digging into flesh and the resulting tremble from the thighs surrounding her head become her new prayer. 

The praise from the blonde makes her keen as she ignores the ache blossoming in her jaw. She wears it like a badge of honor, a reminder of the gift she’s been given. 

And give she would until her heart gave out. If that’s what her God wished.

Strained moans now fall freely from the priestess’ lips as her hips begin to roll against the girl’s mouth, pulling even harder with her hand as she grinds, chasing her own pleasure.

“Fuck.” The blonde bites out sharply, her hips jerking into the warm mouth bringing her so much pleasure. “Keep—keep going. Mmmhhhh. Don’t—stop.” It is not a plea, but a command. A warning.

The young woman whimpers against her, the sound lost as it’s muffled out against wet heat. The girl pulls her tongue out and lifts her mouth up to wrap her lips around Miranda’s clit and she sucks, pulling a deep, guttural groan from the priestess’ throat and the sound echoes, pinging around the stone of the chapel. 

Suddenly, Miranda’s thigh snap tight around the girl’s head, trembling, and for a moment, as she struggles for air, she wonders if these will be her final moments.

A perfect death.

She can feel wetness gushing from the blonde’s core, coating her lips and chin as the woman grinds erratically, riding out her high against the young woman’s face. 

After a few moments, Mother Miranda’s thighs relax, releasing the girl from their vice grip as she loosens her grip on the girl’s hair at the same time. The young woman sucks in a breath, filling her aching lungs before lolling her tongue back out to give light licks to the blonde’s clit, not wanting to give up the taste. 

Miranda sighs and uses the hand, still on the girl’s head, to gently push her away, stroking a damp hair out of her face. 

“Oh, my little sinner…” She coos, her face flushed. “How devoted you are.”

Joy like she’s never experienced bubbles up in the young woman’s chest and her lovestruck eyes shine with endless devotion as she turns to press a soft kiss to the inside of Miranda’s thigh. “For you, I am the most devoted.” She whispers, her voice sparkling with awe.

The word ‘sinner’ no longer strikes her heart with fear, not when God uses that tone.

Overcome with love and adoration, the girl makes a bold request.

“Mother Miranda… may I kiss you?”

The priestess chuckles, her eyes dark and amused. “Come here, child.”

The young woman climbs her way up the blonde’s body until she is just below her height, her nose in line with Miranda’s chin. The girl’s eyes are glued to soft, pink lips.

“So polite for a dirty, little sinner.” The priestess hisses, a wicked look of satisfaction on her face as she brushes her fingers against the girl’s jawline, leaving a trail of fire against her feverish skin. “Go ahead, little bird…”

Her words are like a live wire in the girl’s chest and she wastes not a moment as she swiftly leans up to press a devastatingly gentle kiss to the blonde’s mouth. A desperate sigh floats from her mouth to Miranda’s, and it becomes a gasp for air when she feels the hand on her jaw slide firmly to the back of her neck. The older woman takes the opportunity to press her tongue into the girl’s sweet mouth, dominating, invading, like her parasite.

Lost in her haze of lust and devotion, the girl’s body moves of its own accord as she pushes forward, aching to melt into the intensity of the woman in front of her, ending up with her legs straddling Mother Miranda’s thighs as the blonde is forced to bend her knees and sit back on her feet. The young woman’s hips roll forward, causing Miranda to gasp against her lips, and immediately she pulls away in shock and horror at the action, slapping her hands over her mouth.

“I apologize, Mother Miranda. I don’t know what came over me.” She shoots out, her eyes wide and she trembles in fear. 

Sharp fingernails scrape the skin at the base of her neck.

“No need to apologize for devoted worship, little bird.”

A shiver runs through her.

The hand on the nape of her neck slowly slides up into her hair, slowly forming a tight grip before that same hand yanks her back to Mother Miranda’s mouth, the kiss harder and more desperate. The young woman brings a hand up to cup a soft, silky cheek as she presses forward with a fervor. She gives an experimental roll of her hips and is rewarded with a deep moan into her mouth. The priestess’ other hand reaches up to grasp firmly at the girl’s hip and squeezes. 

“In life and in death…” The familiar words tumble from her lips, her other hand now clutching at Mother Miranda’s bare waist. “I give glory…” Her voice whispers out in reverence, sounding foreign to her ears, though it does not frighten her. “...Mother Miranda.”

In The Eyes Of God - Part IV

The teeth of the fox.

Part I | Part II | Part III

Mother Miranda x Reader/OC

(Warning for explicit gore)

“On the bed.”

“Make me.”

You most certainly have a death wish. That is the only explanation for this.

Or it’s just fun to watch a God deal with a brat.

Mother Miranda raises a single eyebrow at your defiance and prowls closer. “What was that?” She asks, lowly.

You double down. “Make me.” 

Your frontal lobe is a unicycle with a clown on the pedals.

A strong grip yanks your head back, your neck craning under the pressure. You half cry out, half moan at the aggression and you can feel a wetness grow between your legs. Miranda’s breath is hot on your ear as she speaks from behind you with unexpected composure. “Is this what you wanted, hmm? Your hair wrapped around my fist?”

She gives a sharp tug, and it contrasts so deliciously with how calm her voice is that it has your brain buzzing as more heat gathers in your core. 

“You should take care being such a brat, my little dove…” She takes advantage of your height difference and craned back head to lean down and place a whisper of a kiss against your lips, speaking against them as she continues. “...you may not like the consequences.”

You shudder in her grasp. Your neck aches from its unnaturally held position, but her hold on you is too enticing for you to care. Besides, you’d already proven yourself to be a bit of a masochist, hadn’t you?

“Guess we’ll have to find out.” You dare. It’s bold coming from your submissive position, but it seems you are unable to keep the brat at bay -though your strained, breathy voice kind of contradicts your rebellious words.

With your hair still tightly wound in her fist, Miranda swiftly walks you forward until your knees knock into the desk before spinning you both around. She uses her grip to tug your face forward into a bruising kiss, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, harsh, before pulling away and leaning back against the wooden edge, releasing your hair. There’s a dangerous glint in her eye, and it excites you. “Kneel.”

Her sharp tone leaves no room for argument, not that you’d want to argue. On your knees for her feels like the place you were born to be. Without tilting your chin up, you maintain eye contact as you sink to the floor so that you’re looking up at her through your eyelashes. You want so badly to touch her, to run your hands along her thighs, to feel her shiver under your nails as they scrape her flawless skin, before you hike that thin, green dress up to her hips.

But you get the feeling you’ve reached your brat-o-meter quota for the day. So you keep still and wait for instruction.

A satisfied smirk crosses her lips at your obedience and her hands slide down the soft, expensive fabric of her dress to lift slowly up, up, up…

“You missed breakfast again!”

You shoot straight up with a yelp to find the bright, golden eyes of Daniela staring at you. With an evil cackle, she collapses on your lap and rolls to the side of the bed, clutching her hands to her chest in glee. 

Why did you like her again?

You bring a hand up to your head to massage your temple to find slick, sweaty skin.

Ew.

God, your entire body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

With a huff you turn to your murderous friend, still giggling away to herself on your comforter. “That was cruel.”

She fake pouts at you before waving her hand in dismissal. “Oh please, you should be thanking me for offering to wake you. Cassandra wanted to.”

You grimace but have to accept that Cassandra finding you in this state would have been much worse. The brunette could be fun, but she was also a menace who didn’t know when to quit. You’d had a similar style dream a few months back and when Cassandra found out, you’d been mercilessly mocked -oh come on, we’re just having fun!- for weeks.

“Did you dream of me~?” Came the lilt from your side and you fought the urge to roll your eyes at her.

“No.”

Daniela pouts and bats her eyes at you. “Aw, lovey, I thought we had something special?”

Part of you melts at the nickname. A larger part of you cringes. “Better not let anyone hear you say that.”

Now it’s the redhead’s turn to roll her eyes as she perches on your bed, watching you stroll around the quarters, deciding whether to shower off your filth or just accept your state and dress for the day.

“Whatever. She left you here.” 

There’s some bite to your friend’s voice that hints at something deeper, but you decide not to open that can of worms right this second. Daniela had definitely taken the clear claiming from Mother Miranda’s the hardest, and you found that she rebelled against it petulantly. 

Though… you can’t deny the same thought had plagued you over the last week. A whole week, but it felt like a month. Your belongings had been gathered after your evening with the high priestess, making it seem as though you’d be leaving the castle with her, but at the last minute she left without you, not even so much as a ‘goodbye’. For all you tried, it was impossible to not feel cold and abandoned in her wake.

Colette had been the one designated to inform you of the loss of your belongings, the box having been ruined when Anabelle’s body crumpled on top of it.

The poor girl had shaken like a leaf, avoiding eye contact with you as she whimpered out her information.

“Apologies about your belongings, Miss Miranda.”

Miss Miranda? Getting fucked gave you an honorific?

“Oh, that’s alright.” You had assured her with a huff. Again, your belongings weren’t really yours. “It was mostly just… necklaces made out of teeth, so…”

After deciding on a shower, you ignore Daniela’s further jabs relating to Mother Miranda and make your way down to the kitchens, leaving her to her dramatic lamenting on your bed. You hadn’t been permitted to work since your evening with the priestess, and the girls, as much as you adore them, were suffocating you with their incessant need to take up all of your free time.

So, when you could, you helped with chores to keep yourself occupied. The maids were too afraid of you to shoo you away, which left you with the ability to work in peace for a few hours before one of the Dimitrescu daughters found you and snatched you away, scolding you for disobeying the rules. Besides, there was a lot of work to be done. The other maids, while avoidant, surely appreciated the extra help.

“It’s here again…” 

You freeze as the swinging kitchen doors slam closed behind you with a ‘whoosh’. Those words, hissed with venom, clearly not meant for you to hear, arrest your movement. Or maybe they were intended for your ears. Either way, you’re now on edge and you grit your teeth to keep from biting something you’ll regret back into the room. Teeth clenched, you stride to the counter, aiming to assist with whatever breakfast dish was currently being prepared. 

A shoulder firmly, purposefully bumps yours so hard that you have to take a step back to balance and a snicker sounds from the corner by the sinks. 

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

They are just silly, bored girls who need someone to hate. Fine. You can take that. It’s fine.

You clench your jaw harder and lean closer to where you’re now working with the dough at the counter. Knead. Spread. Knead. Spread. Breathe in. Breathe out.

See? Just some good, measured meditation is all you need. Your old therapist had been right, the way people treat you says more about them than-

Something large shoves into you from behind, slamming your hips painfully into the counter and your hands are pushed across the granite, rolling your dough right onto the tile floor with a ‘splat’.

Oh-kay.

Really?

Mid-knead!?

With a huff you swipe the now ruined dough off the floor before storming over to the bin to angrily toss it. 

“Oops, sorry!” Comes such a sincere voice. The act is really and truly sold by the muffled giggle that follows. It’s so convincing, in fact, that she deserves an Oscar, you think… shoved right up her-

“-slut.”

It’s murmured under breath, but there’s no doubt this time it is absolutely meant for you to hear. 

Your eyes catch sight of the knife holder to your left.

(She needs a few new holes to give her mouth a break)

Your fingers flinch at the intrusive thought, and you realize they are already half out-stretched for the nearest blade. Horrified, you snatch the offending hand back, clutching it to your chest. 

Jesus. The girl was a bitch, but you didn’t need to murder her for it.

Frantically, you begin backing out of the kitchen, pushing the doors open with your back as you keep your hand clutched to your chest tightly, afraid that if you let it go it might act of its own accord. Possessed.

You make a brisk walk back to your quarters before you can cause any true harm. Maybe you can hide in the bathroom to avoid the Dimitrescu sisters while you calm the fuck down. 

Images of a sharp, shiny blade in your hand keep flashing in your mind. Sinking into firm flesh. Blood. Heat. Teeth. Laughter. Is it yours?

(The fox still tears into the lamb, no matter how loudly it bleats)

There it is. That kind of thought again. That voice. You let out a shrill, closed-mouth scream of annoyance at its intrusion into your brain, rounding the corner into the staff quarters. 

“Little one.”

You startle so hard at the voice you nearly wipe out on the cement below, limbs flailing like a cartoon character. Your hand flies to your chest as you see Cassandra sprawled lazily across the end of your bed. Her hands are glistening with fresh blood and you wonder which poor soul entered the quarters midday to happen upon the most bloodthirsty sister. She grins lavishly at you and wiggles her fingers in a little wave. Her teeth are red with fresh blood as well and for a moment your picture her tearing into that mouthy little maid from the kitchen-

My God. Get ahold of yourself!

The brunette’s smile widens at your pained expression, delighting in your distress, and she stalks towards you like a mischievous house cat. “Oooh, pray tell what has you so upset, little one?” 

She trails a single finger around your shoulder as she circles you before snatching it away and leaning into your space. Her breath hits you like a truck and you make an effort to shove her away. “Oh my god, what did you eat?” 

“Myrtle.”

Ah. That’d be the poor soul, then.

You frown, but Cassandra’s grin stays as she continues, pulling out her sickle to run her hands over the red, sticky liquid there as well. “Grab a coat.”

The mundaneness of the request makes you tilt your head like a bird, brows furrowed in confusion. “...why?”

“We’re headed to the village!”

Headed to the village? You hadn’t been to the village since the van broke down…

“All of us?” You’re hit with the idea of a large Castle Dimitrescu field trip and you inwardly giggle picturing all of the maids hopping into a large, yellow school bus with the Lady Dimitrescu dressed as Miss Frizzle.

Heh. She’d look so ridiculous.

“No, stupid, just the four of us.” She responds in an exasperated tone before pushing you ahead of her with her sickle. You notice she’s careful not to touch you any longer.

Upon reaching the front foyer, you find the other two Dimitrescu sisters pre-bundled up in layer upon layer of expensive furs, hats, gloves, scarves. It was clear that their mother had been a part of dressing them to leave the castle walls. It was still summer, but the mountain air could be brisk, and the lady took no chances when it came to her three children.

Neither girl looked particularly thrilled to be a) so thoroughly padded that they looked like fat little bears, or b) heading out on this village trip at all. 

You glance back at Cassandra who is sporting a less bulky look, though still thoroughly covered, and she is handing you the same brown leather jacket you’d first arrived with.

“My jacket!” You squeal in delight, snatching it from her before holding it to your chest like a long-lost lover and inhaling deeply. It still smelled of your old perfume. “I thought you’d been incinerated or given to a needy villager…”

“How come you don’t have to wear twenty-thousand layers!?” Daniela demands of her sister with a high pitched whine, her face stormy.

“Because.” 

It’s all Cassandra offers flippantly before Bela rolls her eyes, ushering the three of you out the front door. “Enough, let’s go.”

The four of you march out the door into the pleasant afternoon air, the pine needles crunching satisfyingly under your shoes. You’re glad it hasn’t rained lately, as your boots hadn’t been returned to you with your jacket, and your maid slippers wouldn’t last five minutes in the mud. Though the temperature is comfortable, you pull your jacket tighter around you, reveling in the feeling of the soft leather under your fingers once again. A feeling you never thought you’d have again. You can’t help but wonder why it was returned to you in the first place…

As you near the village, trailing slightly behind the three sisters, a strange wave of nostalgia and homesickness hits you. The old, battered rooftops of the crumbling houses, the chickens running loose through the streets, the occasional villager rushing to their destination with a cold, unfriendly expression. It was all the same. The only difference was the lack of snow and bitter wind chilling you to your very bones. 

“Ugh, brat!”

A stray clump of mud is flung in front of you before a childish slap fight breaks out between the youngest and middle Dimitrescu.

Okay, two differences.

“Where are we headed?” You lean into Bela and a pang of hurt runs through you when she slightly leans back, keeping you from making contact. 

“We’re looking for someone.” She responds in a cryptid way, eyes trained forward, before she pushes on past her sisters with a scoff. “You’re both being childish.” She hisses and you can’t help but frown at her tightly wound demeanor. 

The four of you continue on through the village, people scurrying out of the way upon seeing the Dimitrescus, aided by Cassandra’s occasional open-mouthed hisses when they didn’t flutter away fast enough.

At least someone was having fun.

An uneasy air had settled on you after Bela’s short answer to your question, and you keep closer behind her, careful not to accidentally brush her copious layers of coats. 

Eventually you come to a stop outside of one of the many worn, wooden cabins on the edge of the village. It’s separated from the rest of the homes, a large plot of farmland on all sides. A hefty gust of wind blows against the four of you as you reach the door and it feels like an omen.

Bela shifts her weight, seemingly restless. “Head in, we’ll be right behind you.”

“Um…” Your gaze flickers between the three sisters, Bela and Daniela looking visually apprehensive, whereas Cassandra looks torn between anxious and excited. “Why?”

“There’s something we have to check around the back. We will be in after you.”

Bela’s tone was clipped with no room for argument, even if she didn’t seem entirely sure. It reminded you of her behavior the night Mother Miranda came to the castle. 

Fear washes over you, chilling you as though it’s winter again and you’re back to freezing in your little leather jacket. You give a small nod before pressing your hand against the splintered wood of the rotting cottage door. It groans under your pressure but acquiesces, slowly pushing back, revealing a darkened interior. Eventually, the heavy door continues on its own until it slams into the wall behind it with a ‘bang!’ that makes you jump in your skin. Hesitantly, you step further in, the wooden floor creaking beneath your slippers. Every part of this place alerts of your presence and the sounds make you wince. 

A muffled noise reaches your ears and you snap your head up, frantically searching for the sound. You see nothing. 

It reaches your ears again and you realize it must be coming from the next room around the corner, and you wish you had something in your hands to use as a weapon. Why did the girls bring you here? 

Maybe they considered you tainted, now. Used by their God and therefore worthless.

Maybe Mother Miranda had ordered it, having had her fill of you, wanting you disposed of.

You swallow the lump in your throat and continue to creep along the hall towards the source of the noise you were clearly brought here to confront. The wood keeps creaking under your weight as you bring yourself closer and closer, until eventually you round the corner and your breath catches in your throat.

In front of you sits a man, bound to a small, rickety chair. His sandy hair falls forward in his face, but his familiar green eyes lazily work their way up as you come into view. He smiles upon seeing you. “Miranda… was it? Of course. How could I forget?”

Your stomach twists as you take him in. You think you’re going to be sick.

You want to scream, to cry, to rip your hair out. To rip his hair out.

But all you do is stand, frozen in place, eyes wide. 

A figure glides up behind him, running a golden-clawed hand through his hair before curling their fingers backward to grip his head and wrench it back, and a broken gasp tearing from his throat. Your eyes snap up to find none other than the angelic face of Mother Miranda, lit by the late afternoon sun filtering through the dusty window. Her grip yanks again, bending his neck at an unnatural angle, but her eyes zero in on you, the blue in them flashing brightly.

Everything stops. Time is frozen as you stare straight into the eyes of God.

“Hello, my little crow.”

Time resumes.

There’s a myriad of emotions flooding you, and you don’t know which to pay attention to first. Your desperation. Your rage. Your longing. Your hate. Your desire.

“Relax your jaw, sweet girl.”

You do as you’re asked, unaware that you were even clenching tightly in the first place. 

With a flick of her hand, Miranda releases the man’s head, sending it forward so harshly you think it might snap his neck. Not that you’d mourn. It would be what he deserves.

In her measured way, Mother Miranda prowls closer to you, circling around until she is behind you, her hands gently cradling your shoulders. She lowers her mouth to your ear and you shiver at the warmth of her breath. “You know him, no?”

You swallow and nod, watching the man raise his head weakly to regard you once again.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you alive.” He slurs his words as though he’s drunk.

Liar.

“I knew you were tough. Smart. Much smarter than me. I knew you’d make it.” He continues and your blood boils. 

Mother Miranda continues her sweet words in your ear as her hands slide down your arms before they release their hold. “Benjamin is the reason you’re here at all, is he not?”

He looks the same as the day you’d come to the village, although, a bit worse for the wear at the moment. His green eyes still hold that friendly facade, his smile hides something selfish and sinister. Even tied back, his movements hold that same lazy, blasé style from when you’d met him six months ago. 

“Yes.”

You can’t see it, but you know the priestess smiles behind you.

Benjamin chuckles, despite his current position, and you remember that laugh.

“I’m sorry things went this way. I wish you all the best, truly.”

Your mouth twitches with anger as you remember the day you came to the village. The friendly green eyes that greeted you at the Inn. The wide-toothed smile that led you away from the town center. The laugh that seemed a bit off to you. The voice that haunted your dreams for months. The last face you saw before waking up in Castle Dimitrescu…

The clack of heels shakes you out of your memory as Mother Miranda rounds the other side of you, crossing back to Benjamin, who is limply leaning against his bonds. Standing behind him once again, the blonde made direct eye contact with you before cutting through the ties holding him to the chair with her nail guards.

“Thank you, Mother Miranda…” He coos, his eyes filled with devotion and…

…lust.

Your fists tighten and it alerts you to something foreign in your right hand. You look down to find a silver blade. When did that get there? It’s similar to the one you’d reached for this morning in the kitchen. That felt so long ago now, like days had passed. 

Warm breath brushes across your neck and you look up to find that Mother Miranda is no longer standing near Benjamin, but rather behind you once again.

He smiles at you and takes a step forward. 

You grip the handle of the blade in your hand.

A strange, violent glee fills you and you wish you were the fourth Dimitrescu sister with sharp teeth to match your need for flesh.

You want to gorge yourself on his throat.

“What do you want to do, my little crow?”

(Rip it out and leave it a bloody sacrifice)

Oooh, there’s that little voice again. This time it’s enticing, it’s welcoming. Like an old friend greeting you upon returning home. How could you ever have doubted its presence?

Your bones are vibrating. Your blood is singing. God is whispering in your ear with a sweet smile, encouraging you to release this man from his mortal prison.

It would be inconsiderate of you to ignore God’s gentle provocation. Especially when her breath is fanning your neck so gently and you just know her eyes are blown wide, waiting for your decision.

You shouldn’t disappoint her. Really, you shouldn’t.

Benjamin takes another step.

Fool.

Without making a sound your arm shoots forward, knife sinking into such soft skin, so pliable under the metal. Too pliable, really. Who knew it was this easy?

His expression remains the same, the only change being the blood now spurting from his neck, coating your face, your hair, your shirt as he collapses to the ground, twitching with what remains of his life. 

Your mind flashes images of Anabelle before you as you stare at the man bleeding out on the floor. This kill wasn’t as clean, but just as effective.

You stare at him harder.

Reality begins to settle. 

Dead.

This man is dead.

You killed him.

You’re torn between horror and… a strange satisfaction.

No. That’s not right. You’re not a murderer. You don’t enjoy things like this. Quick, shallow breaths work their way in and out of your chest as you try to grasp what you’ve just done and you feel lightheaded.  A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, preventing you from simply crumpling to the floor, buckling under your wobbly knees. A saccharine voice coos in your ear. “That’s it, my sweet girl. You’re alright.”

You lean into the warmth, the safety, the voice telling you it will all be okay, rotating in her arms so as to curl into her breast, blocking out the rest of the world. You clutch to her like a lifeline as you press your face into her robes, attempting to block out of the reality of what you’ve done. 

You feel a hand brushing against your hair, now sticky with blood.

“I’m so proud of you, little crow.” God coos in your ear, her voice dripping with satisfaction, and you finally relax in her hold. Yes. You did what you had to. What was deserved. He deserved it. You slowly lift your chin to look God in the eye and find her looking down at you with a fire, an intensity. Her hand lifts to cup your chin. She dips down to press a firm kiss to your bloody lips and everything settles in your mind.

Her next words against your skin echo something that has stuck in your brain since you last saw her. 

“Are you happy now, my little dove?”

power

[ it hurts. it hurts-!! ]

eveline is such a tragedy.

WHAT IF:

When you tell Miranda about the rumours in resident lover, instead of reacting the way she did , she just decides to risk it all by trapping you on her desk and kissing you like she's starving for you.

"This is not going to help the rumours at all"

"No. But it will help me"

RAHHH LOVING MIRANDA HOURS

The thought of a miranda usually so cold and aloof just sinking into your embrace after so long, the desperation in her fingers as she clings onto your body and the want in her eyes as she stares into your own

Anyways, i believe in touch starved miranda surpremacy

Itll take AGES to get to this point but for her? Its worth it

The gayness continues! 🙏🏻🔥

In The Eyes Of God - Part III

Okay so I said I was done, but it turns out that was a fucking lie. Enjoy a part III to this!

Part I | Part II

The morning after...

Mother Miranda x Reader

“Bela, dear, you’re going to wear a hole in my floor.”

The blonde halted her incessant pacing back and forth across Alcina’s chamber and shifted her nervous energy into flicking her nails instead, eyes lost in thought as she stared at nothing in particular out the window.

“That’s worse.” Cassandra added from her mother’s bed where she was busy tearing into yet another limb from the cellar. 

Bela snapped her head up to focus on her sister and snarled. “At least I’m not gorging myself like a slobbering pig.”

The middle sister barred her teeth and snarled back, throwing the leg bone towards Bela into the far reaches of the large bedroom. It clattered against the wall, knocking down a framed painting that smacked the floor with its hefty weight.

“Girls.” Bellowed their mother, fingers on her temples. The cadou worked miracles, but apparently couldn’t stave off migraines formed from dealing with bratty children. “We are all on edge this morning, but please try to exhibit a modicum of decor.”

Both daughters muttered ‘sorries’ but continued to glare at one another, their frustration boiling over the top and becoming difficult to manage. 

You’d been in that room with Mother Miranda since the previous evening, and it was the longest the priestess had ever stayed in the castle.

Not a sighting, not a peep. No indication that there was even someone still in that chamber. 

The maids moved about the castle with more anxious energy than usual, and the Dimitrescu sisters weren’t coping well with the wait either. Daniela had taken to wailing in the halls, begging various maids to comfort her only to become immediately irritated by their presence, leaving multiple of the girls with slash and bite marks. Cassandra tore through the storage of bodies in the basement, ripping corpses apart with her bare hands and teeth, unable to eat enough to fill the pit in her stomach. Bela had done the opposite, refusing to eat or drink while she either picked at her own skin or paced up and down halls.

Alcina, for her part, felt the weight and guilt of you having been chosen by Mother Miranda, but had accepted that there was nothing they could do for you now. Despite her daughters having a particular penchant for you, you were still human, and Mother Miranda was still a vessel for the Black God. 

You were almost certainly dead. Or very close to it.

No one knew for certain what Mother Miranda did with the girls she took as ‘company,’ but from the screams and cries that came from that chamber every year, it was assumed that nothing particularly pleasurable happened before the priestess emerged a few hours later, leaving a mangled body in her wake.

The idea usually excited the Dimitrescu sisters, particularly Cassandra, who’d read every book on torture available in her mother’s vast library. The fact that they were losing the only maid they’d ever liked, plus the fact that they couldn’t happily examine the body to deduce what Mother Miranda had done to it after, was proving to be more than the three mutated women could handle. 

“My lady-” a rushed voice came from the doorway, out of breath as though she’d run all the way up the stairs and down the hall -something Alcina would normally punish her maids for, but she couldn’t be bothered to care at this very moment- and the lady of the castle dropped her hands, giving her undivided attention to her chambermaid’s flushed face. “Mother Miranda has requested your parting audience in the foyer.”

Cassandra flew up from her cross legged position on her mother’s bed and Bela’s eyes shone bright.

“Now?” Alcina asked, her heart pacing fast.

“She said, ‘in a little while, tell your lady to wait for me’, my lady.”

oOo

Upon waking up, you find Mother Miranda already out of bed -of course- marching around the room, gathering her clothing like it was any average day. You climb out of bed yourself and watch her for a few moments before she glances at you. You feel awkward, like you’re waiting for instructions. 

“Are you lost?” She sounds mildly irritated, like you’d brought her the wrong food order.

“I didn’t expect to make it this far…” You answer honestly. You hadn’t planned for today because you didn’t expect to live past yesterday.

“You thought I was going to kill you?”

You shrug. “I figured there was a high possibility.”

Immediately she’s in front of you. A cool hand snatches around your neck and yanks your face close to hers, fingers digging in only a little. You gasp at the suddenness but keep your eyes trained on hers, matching her energy becoming a second nature reaction for you. Upon looking at you, her eyes soften and you are reminded of the brief look she gave you last night. So uncharacteristically human.

Her hand moves to your throat, but the pressure is only strong enough to keep you there without hurting you. She leans in and presses her lips so gently to yours. 

Too gently for how her hand is clutching you.

Slowly she pulls away and you flutter your eyes open to see her looking at you half-lidded with warmth. Her gaze leisurely travels down to your lips and back up before she releases you and continues to dress.

“I was.”

There is no follow up, no context, and you gape at her like a fish for a few moments before your brain kicks back into gear and you begin dressing as well, realizing she probably would not approve of your lack of efficiency. You’d somehow lived this long, you weren’t going to fuck it up now.

Once you’re both dressed, you move to follow her out into the hall, only to nearly collide with her as she spins to face you. Her eyes scan your figure now back in your maid clothing and somehow you feel more exposed now then when you were completely naked. 

The predator is back. 

Her gaze zeros in on your neck and her eyes narrow. Before you can debate what’s going through her mind, one hand pushes your chin up while the other grabs ahold of your shoulder, allowing her to lean into you. Her grip tightens in both hands and she growls against your neck. “Do not move.”

You remain frozen, not even deigning to nod, waiting for whatever is coming next.

You feel teeth on the same spot she first bit you last night before she begins sucking in that same spot. 

Oh.

Your legs tremble and you’re glad she’s holding you so firmly, even if her ring guards are digging into your skin.

She moves her face to the other side of your neck, her nose dragging along your throat, to the other place she’d marked you and she bites down again. 

Hard. 

You can’t help the yelp that leaves your lips. She begins to suck where she bit, hand moving from your chin to the back of your head to hold you in place. Unable to hold still anymore, your hands shoot forward to clutch at her waist and pull her hips into yours, and the response is a light moan into your skin and for her to suck harder. 

Without removing her mouth from you, she walks the two of you back until your body collides with the wall behind you. Her hips, still in your grasp, press firmly into yours and she slowly moves her mouth up to the pulse point under your ear and sucks again, groaning into you as she does. She slots a knee between your legs and presses it up as she continues her ministrations. Your head spins as the pressure. 

Just as your hips begin to move she pulls away, her lips leaving your neck with a pop! and you nearly crumple into a heap on the floor without her to hold you up. You stare at her, wide eyed, and she smirks as she takes stock of the state of you. Your face flushed, chest heaving, neck mercilessly marked.

She spins on her heel, satisfied with her work, and stalks back toward the door. “Come along, my little dove.”

oOo

You enter the main foyer, trailing behind your…

Your, uh…

Behind Mother Miranda.

You hear a suppressed squeal and look up to see the delighted, grinning face of none other than Daniela across the hall. All of her teeth are barred on display with her smile and you can hardly see any white to them with how bloody they are. You send a knowing smile back and feel your heart warm with the knowledge that she was worried about you. Further down the aisle, all the way down by the front door you can see your lady and the other two Dimitrescu children waiting for their God’s departure. 

“Your cloak, Mother Miranda.”

You hear a sickly sweet voice to your right and it immediately sets your teeth on edge.

Turning you see one of the newer maids who had joined around the same time you did handing over the intricate black feathered cloak that Mother Miranda typically donned, a cute little blush painted on her cheeks. She looked up at Miranda through her -admittedly long and pretty- eyelashes and batted her eyes with a small smile.

Oh, how disgusting.

You’ve never had a good poker face so your disdain must show plain as day. Not that it would matter, as the girl doesn’t spare you so much as a passing glance to acknowledge your existence.

You hate her.

Did you not just survive the unsurvivable? Do you not deserve to be seen at all? What, now that you’ve survived a night with God, everyone thinks they can do it, too? 

You earned your survival.

The girl skitters away and you stare daggers at her as she leaves, jaw beginning to ache from how hardly you are clenching it. Images of Daniela ripping her apart for flirting cross your mind and a growing, green monster in your stomach chuckles darkly.

A firm hand grips your chin and yanks your head forward. Mother Miranda looks at you, amused. “What are you thinking, pet?”

Your eyes widen at having been caught. You frown and feign innocence, shaking your head to indicate ‘nothing’ as much as you can in her grasp.

Her voice hardens, but it doesn’t hold the same ice from when you met yesterday. “Do not lie to me.”

Shame floods you as you are forced to acknowledge that dirty, little green monster that raged in you moments ago. You plead her with your eyes to drop it, but she doesn’t waver, her intense stare locked on you.

“Something mean and petty…” You admit quietly, and she raises an eyebrow, that amused look still plastered on her stupid face.

Wow, weren’t you supposed to be pleasant the day after getting railed?

That little green monster is one strong piece of shit.

Miranda releases your face and purses her lips as she fake-coos at you. “All because that maid looked at me?”

Heat crawled up your face in embarrassment and you once again turned your head to the side, refusing to look the blonde in the face. Why were you so jealous? This woman is a torturous nightmare. A murderer.

A murderer who admitted she was going to murder you.

But.

She didn’t, did she?

She could have. Easily. You’d be as dead as all the maids she’d probably murdered in your situation before, but here you stood, drawing breath. Images from the previous night flashed before your eyes: the smug looks you’d wiped away, the blown out eyes when you dared defy her, that soft look she’d given you when you undressed her, the way she moaned so delectably in your ear as she rode you.

“You think you have some claim on me, little bird?”

That shocks you out of your thoughts. Particularly, the fact that there was no ‘my’ in front of the pet name this time. Your stomach sinks. 

You don’t look up to meet her gaze, silently praying that she won’t make you because you don’t want her to see the truth on your face that you know you can’t hide. There was some dark, sick part of you that did feel that way.

How silly.

You can’t claim a God.

She turns away from you and continues walking down the corridor. Unsure of what you’re meant to do, you follow like a scolded puppy. Another thing to irritate you.

As you reach the rest of the Dimitrescus, Mother Miranda turns to speak in hushed tones with Alcina, leaving you with Bela and Cassandra, who both seem over the moon that you’re there in the room with them.

“You made it-” Bela stops in her tracks, eyes widening to the size of saucers when she gets a good look at your neck. Cassandra lets out a quiet whistle as she surveys the damage. “Damn, she marked you up good.” 

Bela reaches up to touch the worst of the bruises at the base of your neck before thinking better of it and snatching her hand away. “Sorry.” She murmurs and you feel confused at her behavior until it dawns on you that you’ve been thoroughly claimed like this. Heat flushes your chest, and you try to convince yourself it’s embarrassment…

“Marie- Miranda.” Lady Dimitrescu corrects herself as she now addresses you. “Anabelle should have your belongings in the side parlor.”

She gives you no additional information and without fully understanding why your belongings have been brought from the maids quarters, you shuffle away to retrieve them. You suppose it’s not out of the realm of possibilities that you’ve been selected as a new test subject. Based on your behavior this morning, you can’t really blame anyone for wanting to study you.

What sticks in your mind as you walk, however, is remembering that Anabelle is the maid that just handed Mother Miranda her coat. 

Ugh.

Fine.

You grumble to yourself as you reach the parlor to find her standing there with your few personal belongings in a box -having been abducted, the only personal belongings you owned were ‘gifts’ from the Dimitrescu sisters.

Anabelle smiles shyly as she sets the box down between you. Her hands clasp in front of her and she looks up at you through her eyelashes, much the same as she did with Mother Miranda.

“I hope I didn’t miss anything.” Her voice lilts at you and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

Or slam her head into the wall nearest.

Jesus. You need to get a grip.

She grabs your hand and it shocks you out of your murderous thoughts as you look at her with wide eyes. Her thumb rubs along the back of your hand.

“You’re so brave.” She whispers before biting her lip as she looks at you. That same blush makes an appearance.

Hmm. 

Turns out she’ll flirt with anyone, she just has a pecking order. With Mother Miranda out of the room, looks like the leftover Miranda was next on her list. You’re not interested in the slightest, but you feel a little better knowing she’s not obsessively devoted to the priestess.

You open your mouth to respond but a blur flies in front of your face, interrupting you. The girl is still looking at you, but her neck is leaking blood and a horrible gurgling is coming from her mouth. You feel flecks of something hot and sticky on your face and realize it’s her blood splattered on you. Someone is next to you and you recognize the silhouette from your peripheral to be Mother Miranda. You glance at her to see a cold expression on her face and droplets of blood on her nail guards.

She’d slit the girl’s throat.

You stare back at the girl, now a heap on the floor, her soulless eyes unfocused as her corpse bleeds out on the tile.

A hand on your cheek tilts you to look at the blonde next to you, her face unexpectedly close to yours. Her expression is stoic, searching your own face for a reaction.

“Are you happy now, my little dove?”

Your eyes widen and you can feel your heartbeat in your teeth. Her question feels like a test, but for the life of you, in your current condition, your brain can’t piece together what the test is meant to be for. Her breath fans your face as she waits for your response, and you can’t help but notice just how sweet it is. 

You simply tell her the truth. It should disgust you, but it doesn’t.

“Yes.”

A very satisfied smile grows on her lips and you remain perfectly still as she bends down and places a gentle kiss on your cheek. When she pulls away, she brushes a speck of blood off your other cheek with the pad of her thumb.

It’s all so oddly domestic… overtop some poor girl’s corpse.

“Come.” God beckons with that sweet smile and you find yourself smiling in kind as you follow her back to the front door.

Eva, my Eva

UHH this was really quick and messy and I would’ve planned it better but I needed to get this down before I lost motivation LMFAO

New chapter, let's go🦅🦅🦅

resident lover is literally perfect, but you know how in donna’s run you can be swiped by cassandra?

bc of the lore, i wish there was a way to be swiped by miranda in every run. like, at least once each version of playthrough, she tries to swipe you and you can either fall for it or not.

New chapter, done done ‼️🌞

MOTHER MIRANDA pachislot BIOHAZARD village, 2023

She's such a bird ong

Hello fellow mother miranda lover!

First of, do you want nsfw stuff in asks or no?

Second, my personal hc is that she has a bunch of birdlike behaviors even when in human form, maybe you could write sth about that :)

for now, no I don’t write nsfw. let me practice writing 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 stuff, stay tuned! (also apologies for the late reply)

birdlike behaviours

• First and foremost, she would absolutely adore shiny things. From old keys to beads to jewelry, she’d be absolutely entranced by it all. Have you seen her nail rings and halo? (She’d definitely have an ever growing collection)

• Crows have a little strut and sass as they walk, and at the end of resident evil 8 (where Ethan is talking to her) she is strutting around so yeah. She walks like a bird

• NESTING! She would take a bunch of her clothes (and her S/O’s?) and would make a cozy and snug nest in bed. And lie face down.

• 100% of her brain power is devoted to bringing Eva back so when she’s not doing that she is scatterbrained (or birdbrained hehe) and has a really stupid expression on her face

• Miranda isn’t an expressionate person but her wings unquestionably give her away. Flapping of wings, puffing up her chest, standing straighter? She’s definitely trying to intimidate. Fluffing of her wings with a little smile? It’s either someone’s death or she’s happy!

might reblog with more ideas idk

Just wanted to share my fanfiction on here too! Lots of spooky vibes and mysteries 🌜