#for me i sometimes pretend that family members are visiting me

[i-cant-sing]

Just thinking about Dabi being admitted to a mental asylum, where he falls for reader, who is visiting a family member.

Reader is a goody two shoes, too kind and sweet for her own good. At first, Dabi wants to spook her and hurt her and shit, but she always returns to him, sometimes you'd scold him or swat him lightly if he tries to bite you.

Slowly and surely, Dabi falls for the naive girl who always brings him homemade snacks and books and trinkets from outside. And you fall for him too, as he starts showing you his softer side. He's still a little mean every now and then, but it's more playful teasing.

Dabi likes to hear you talk, about anything and everything. He pretends he doesn't listen, but he has memorised every word you've ever said. That's why he always uses "daddy's money" to bribe a nurse to buy you gifts.

You push him to tell you stuff about himself, and he begrudgingly tells you that he used to play violin. And by play, he meant he was a "violin progidy".

He was surprised one day when you brought him a violin. An expensive one too. Why would you do that?

You smiled brightly. "I wanna hear you play!"

You took him to the asylum's garden, where it was quite and peaceful. Dabi stood there, looking at your stupid, happy face before sighing.

And then he played.

Oh, how beautifully did he play. It was as if he had the soul of Vivaldi, Paganini and Mozart in him. One could've easily had an eargasm listening to his fingers play the strings.

Dabi rolled his eyes as he saw you looking at him in awe. In reality, he was internally gloating.

After a few minutes, you stood up. Dabi continued to play, his eyes trained on you as you slowly began to dance.

Ballet- well you tried to do ballet, you were pretty awful at it, but for some reason, it made his heart swell.

You started doing pirouettes (ballet spins) around him, and obviously, slipped and fell on him. Dabi caught you, dropping the violin as he hugged you to his chest, falling down as the grass cushioned your fall. You laughed like a child, and Dabi looked at you like you were the most precious treasure in the world.

And when you stopped laughing and looked at Dabi who was staring at you with utter adoration.

"Dabi?" You called, with a giggle.

And then he kissed you.

Your lips were just as soft as he'd imagined, just as sweet as he'd wished for. When he pulled away, your eyes were remained closed for a few seconds longer, lips still parted.

A smile slowly formed on your lips.

"Wow." You breathed out. And then you kissed him again.

Safe to say, you two began dating. Dabi was in complete bliss, not that he'd ever admit it, but everyone noticed how happy he was. The nurses commented on it, saying he looked healthier and happier, but Dabi would just shrug and tell him that perhaps the drugs were working.

Fast forward to 2 years later, Dabi is chasing you through the hospital corridors. Your laughter echoed through the hallways, and he slowed down a bit because of how happy it made you to make him chase you. You called for Dabi to catch you if he wants a kiss.

"Hurry! You're gonna have to catch me if you want a kiss-!" In a second, Dabi had his arms around you, lifting you up and pushing you against the wall as he slammed his lips against you.

He didn't move away until you were slapping at him to let you have air. You gasped, as Dabi smiled.

"I win."

Later that day, he's talking to his psychiatrist. Dabi doesn't talk much to the doctor, but today, he decided to open up his heart.

"I'm in love."

The doctor nods. "Is it love? Or are you just physically attracted-"

"I want to marry her. She... she makes everything make sense. Makes the voices in my head stop too, but I guess I have to give some credit for that to your drugs too." Dabi chuckled. "The satisfaction, the pleasure, the peace I used to get from hurting people- I find it all when I put my head in her lap."

"Yeah? Well, who's the lucky lady?"

"Y/n. She visits a relative here-" Dabi stopped speaking as he saw the doctor's face fell. "What? What's wrong?"

"Dabi... Y/n's dead." Dabi's eyes bulged out.

"What the fuck are you saying?" An angry vein popped out on hid forehead. If this fucking clown thinks he can get away with that kind of sick joke-

"Y/n's dead, Dabi. She's been dead for 5 years. You killed her. You were drunk driving and you two had an argument and you drove into another car. She died after you crawled out of the car and watched her burn to death in your car. The paramedics later found that she was 8 weeks pregnant. Now, yhe sooner you accept that, the sooner we can begin working on your treatment-" the doctor was cut off as Dabi began beating him to pulp.

Had it not been for the staff outside, the poor doctor would not have survived.

They had put Dabi in a straitjacket and locked him away in his room as he continued to cry and scream in agony.

You couldn't be dead. You couldn't be dead. You couldn't be dead-

How was he supposed to just accept that he had been imagining you all these years?

3 years later, they finally let Dabi out. The drugs and therapy finally worked, and Dabi began returning to normalcy. His family welcomed him home with wide arms, and Enji even let him work with him in the office.

One day, when he was getting coffee, Dabi felt someone bump into him, making his breath hitch at the familiar face.

Y/n.

"Sorry!" You said, before turning back towards your friends.

"Y/n?" You whipped your head back to him.

"Sorry, do I know you?"

He didn't get a chance to say anything as you friends dragged you away.

By the end of the day, Dabi was able to find everything about you with Enji's resources.

You were Y/n, his Y/n. You had gotten into an accident 8 years back, with an unnamed passenger in the driver's seat (who he found out was him, but Enji had paid a lot of money to not have his son's name in the papers). You had managed to survive the car wreck, but as the hospital records state, you'd lost your memory.

But you were still his Y/n.

And he was gonna get you again. And also find out who tf paid that doctor to lie to him?

"Sir. These were dropped by a stranger for you." His assistant said, putting a manila envelope on his desk.

It was from the private investigator he'd hired. Pictures of you in your daily routine.

Oh, will you look at that? You're holding a little boy's hand. A boy, who had an uncanny resemblance to him, and the trademark Todoroki Clan's blue turquoise eyes.

Dabi smiled, caressing the picture.

He's gonna get his family back.

PART 2 HERE

[sweetbbyshion]

Mom?

-> Touya Todoroki x Reader

characters: Touya Todoroki, Todoroki family

genre: fluff

summary: more shenanigans with the todoroki family

warnings: established relationship, reader is called "mom", reader hinted to being afab, mentions of babies, alternative universe where there's no quirks and the todorokis are trying to be a better family

this is another part for the series I've been making with little brother Shoto. It can be read alone but here are part 1 and part 2 if you wish to read it <333 I'm taking requests and headcanons for this if you want to send anything

You stare at Touya from your place on his bed. He has been arguing with Shoto for the past ten minutes but you can't understand what was the reason. He throws some glances at you from time to time, pacing around the room while speaking on the phone. It takes another ten minutes until Touya puts his phone down before making his way to the bed. He forces himself between your legs, then laying his head on your stomach. Your hands immediately go to his hair, your fingers going through the soft locks (that took a long time to get this soft after years of dyeing his hair black) while your boyfriend sighs dramatically. “Shoto called.” You hum in acknowledgment as you wait for him to continue. “He asked if we could visit this weekend.” Touya practically melts against your touch, burying his face on your stomach and tightening the hold he has on your waist. “Do you want to go?” You ask.

“Of course not. You forget about me every time we are there!” Touya is quick to reply.

“I do not. You're being dramatic.”

Touya keeps bickering, arguing that he has every right to be dramatic in this situation. At the end of the day, Touya gives in and decides that you are both going to visit during the weekend (he would never admit it but what made him change his mind was the fact that he would get busy with exams in two weeks and this was the last opportunity to see his mom for a while). You're not as nervous as you were the first time. After hours spent talking to the Todorokis, you felt more at ease while visiting the family. You had grown close to Shoto, forming a bond that you didn't have with the other members. For some reason, the youngest sibling saw in you a safe place and you couldn't be more happy about it. Touya, sometimes, would get jealous of the attention you gave his little brother but you would shut down his whining quickly. Nevertheless, your boyfriend is secretly very happy that you were so close to his family.

The nervousness you felt on the first ride to Touya’s house was not there anymore and instead it's replaced by excitement. You don't wait for your boyfriend to get out of the car when you arrive and, instead, you go to the door by yourself, knocking eagerly. Similar to the first time, Natsuo is the one opening the door. You ruffle his hair, surprised with the growing similarities between him and his older brother. Next, you hear someone running down the stairs and you know it's Shoto by the way his mom calls his name to warn him about running down the stairs. You see a blur of white and red hair before a body collapses against yours. Thankfully, Touya is right behind you to help you stabilize yourself but you barely acknowledge it, just holding Shoto close as you give him the tightest hug.

“Be careful, brat.” Touya says half-heartedly while hugging you both.

“Touya said you weren't coming!”

You look at your boyfriend, an annoying expression on your face while he pretends to not see you. You grab the back of his shirt, preventing him from walking away and whisper “Say sorry, now.” between your teeth. Touya mumbles an apology to his younger brother, who is still hugging you tight and barely paying attention to the other’s words.

Shoto stays quiet as you both walk to the couch. He doesn't talk much but you enjoy his company nonetheless. When you get up to help his mom in the kitchen, he follows you around like a baby duck, not wanting to get you out of his sight. It's cute, really, how he wants to be in your presence even if you're both doing your thing.

“Is lunch almost ready? I’m starving.” Touya asks when he walks into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around your waist to peek at the pot in front of you.

You hum in affirmation. “Help Shoto set the table. Don't be lazy.”

“I’m the guest though I shouldn't…” He stops halfway when he sees you staring at him. “Fine. Kiss first?”

Touya lowers his head and you simply move his hair to the side to kiss his forehead before pushing him off of you. He laughs as he calls for Natsuo to also help because “it isn't fair”.

Lunch is uneventful. Enji Todoroki, as always, doesn’t speak to you much. Instead, he focuses on talking to his oldest son. After eating, Enji goes back to his office to work and the rest of you are left to decide what to do on that Saturday afternoon.

Touya, not so surprisingly, announces that he will be taking a nap and you don't miss the exaggerated pout he gives you when you refuse to go with him. Rei says she will go take care of her garden and asks to warn her if her children decide to go out.

After a lot of deliberation, you, Shoto, Natsuo and Fuyumi decide to go to the supermarket to get the ingredients to bake a cake.

And that's how you end up walking with three of the four Todoroki siblings, holding Shoto’s and Natsuo’s hands whenever you’re about to cross the street, despite the protests of the older one. Quickly you get to the supermarket and you ask the two boys to not run off anywhere, bribing them with the promise of each being able to choose a sweet they want. Natsuo, just like Touya, frowns and tries to act like the angry teenager he thinks he is even though you can see the excitement in his eyes with the promise of food.

“Mom, can we make soba tonight?”

You stop moving when you hear Shoto’s voice, your hand stopping mid air to grab the eggs. You watch the way the boy’s eyes widen when he processes the words coming out of his mouth and his face heats up with embarrassment. It's silent for a while until Natsuo starts laughing loudly and Shoto turns around to try to run away. You have to grab his shirt, not wanting him to get lost. He’s hiding his face and arguing with Natsuo to stop laughing saying “It was an accident!”.

Even Fuyumi has an amused smile on her face watching the scene unfold in front of her while you try to figure out what to do.

“It happens, don't worry about it.” you tell Shoto but it doesn't seem to do much since he still looks embarrassed.

The rest of the grocery shopping is done in silence. Shoto simply points at things, not wanting to make the same embarrassing mistake again.

When you all get home, Touya is awake and watching some random tv show in the living room. You’re putting away the groceries when you hear Touya’s loud laugh and the sound of Shoto running to the kitchen to hide behind you. Touya shows up shortly after, still laughing, with tears in his eyes. You give him a stern look but he doesn't even notice it.

“Hiding behind mom? Such a little baby.” Touya provokes.

“Leave your brother alone. It was an accident.” you respond, rolling your eyes at the immature attitude.

“Didn't you call your math teacher “mom” once, honey?” Rei intervenes, making Touya instantly shut up.

Your boyfriend decides to change the subject and asks to help with the cake. Shoto announced he will just watch TV, his cheeks still a bit red. Rei also leaves the kitchen to do something and you’re left alone with Touya who quickly pulls you for a kiss. “You would be a super hot mom.” he whispers against your lips, his hands making their way down to rest on your stomach.

“Of course you would say that.” you roll your eyes, pushing him away. “I won't get pregnant for the next few years, don't get any ideas.”

Touya laughs and you start paying attention to the cake recipe, trying to push back the images of tattooed, scary Touya with a small baby in his arms.

“Well, that's a shame.” Rei’s voice catches your attention and you see her standing at the door with a sweet smile. “I’m already crocheting small clothes.”

[lightwing-s]

alfred meeting food blogger reader for the first time during weekly visit when he off to new york visiting jason (which he gives Alfie reader's home address since reader wants to meat his grandpa) but encounter them in the farmer market when he and the reader both reach for a fresh batch of apple at same time in the same stall, also, jason and alfred both pretend not to know each other when reader introduce her new friend to her boyfriend as jason hugs himself around reader🍎❤🍎

It was a nice saturday morning, the early sun rays warming his face and contrasting with the still cold air hanging around. Jason had lost you sometime ago, but he didn’t worry. There was no need for it, in fact.

Y/n was always excited to go to the farmer’s market. And by excited he meant very, eager, exhilarated, psyched. You loved it. All kinds of fresh delicious food. All kinds of unique and different products. Everything a food lover, kind-of-a-chef, and content creator would love.

So he didn’t worry when he suddenly missed your hands in his, and your constant chattering about any and every product you found mildly interesting. He knew you were safe and that you would come back. And that’s a feeling being in Gotham never really granted him.

“Jason! Babe!” he heard you calling, quickly turning around in the direction your voice was coming from. “I found the most beautiful strawberries I’ve ever seen” you told him once he arrived beside you, eyes sparkling at your excitement.

They were truly beautiful. Big, bright red and without a flaw in sight. “My new friend, Alfred, and I were just chatting about how difficult it’s been to find such good strawberries these days, isn’t it?”

Turning to face your new friend, Jason followed your movements to land eyes in one of his most beloved and well recognized features. Alfred, now clad in a jacket and something else other than a suit, but still as posh, smiled at his foster son, extending his hands for Jason to shake. “Nice to finally see you again, Master Jason.”

The look on your face, of complete shock and surprise, must have been entertaining, because your boyfriend blurted out laughing at you, while you remained not understanding a thing. And then it clicked.

“He’s your Alfred?” you questioned, looking frantically between the two men. “Oh my gosh, you are his Alfrend, aren’t you? I’m so excited to finally meet you!” you embraced the older man, a bit surprised he let you do so without knowing you that much.

“And I’m happy to finally meet you too. Master Jason has talked a lot about you, miss.” Alfred threw a knowing glance at Jason, and you could’ve sworn his cheeks turned pink.

“And he has told me a lot about you too. In fact, you’re the only family member mister grumpy tells me about.”

While the two engaged in a long conversation, going from you excitedly asking Alfred to tell you about Jason’s childhood, to different kinds of food and recipes and cooking tips you could remember, Jason smiled happily at you two. Two of the most important people in his life getting along so well and so quickly.

He felt a strange sensation on his chest. A good sensation. One that made the small box hidden in his drawer seem ideal.

“Hey, Alfie” he interrupted, laying his arms around both yours and Alfred’s shoulders. “How about we get some breakfast back at our place?”

[igotsnothing]

OC QUESTIONNAIRE

Thanks for the tag, @stargazer-sims and @eljeebee! I really enjoyed reading your questionnaires! And since you both tagged me, I am going to do this for Sasha and Gideon because I'm obsessed with telling their story, and I need a little fluff for them; they've been going through a lot recently.

Gideon: Interesting! Ready?

Sasha: Nooooo.

Gideon: I'll go first.

NAME: Gideon Westergaard

NICKNAME: None (Sasha: Oh, I can think of a FEW, all of them unpublishable.)

GENDER: Cis man

STAR SIGN: I honestly don't know...and I don't really care. (Sasha: He's a virgo, obviously. Please.)

HEIGHT: 6'3 (1.90 cm)

ORIENTATION: Bi, like many vampires.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Citizen of San Myshuno, member of the Forgotten Hollow Coven, originally from somewhere further north of Windenburg.

FAVORITE FRUIT: Sasha... (Sasha: SERIOUSLY? You think that's funny? F*ck you!)

FAVORITE SEASON: Fall.

FAVORITE FLOWER: Lily of the valley

FAVORITE SCENT: Cartier's Pasha.

COFFEE, TEA, or HOT CHOCOLATE: (Gideon: *Looks at Sasha.* Sasha: DON'T YOU DARE. NO.) Scotch. If good quality, I prefer it neat. (*Sasha pretends to puke*)

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: I don't need much sleep; I usually get 4-5 hours.

DOGS or CATS: *Grins broadly* My kitten, of course. (*Sasha grumbles incoherently*)

DREAM TRIP: I actually love San Myshuno. I like going to the art galleries, theaters, concert halls- all the activities the city has to offer. But if I had to travel somewhere...I like skiing. Mt. Komorebi is quite the challenge.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: I don't really get cold.

RANDOM FACT: Vampires are connected to their covens via specific bloodlines. Gideon has a coven sire, who turned him- but the one who claims him as her "child" is his coven's mistress (more to be revealed...can't wait to share.)

Gideon: Your turn!

Sasha: Hello, nosey people! Why don't you mind your own bu-

NAME: Sasha Velky

NICKNAME: Sash. Sassy, but don't call me that ever. Loco- but only Hector gets to call me that (Gideon visibly bristles at this). And...that's it. (Gideon mouths 'kitten' and winks. Sasha does not acknowledge this and maintains a steady glare.)

GENDER: Cis man

STAR SIGN: Okay, my sun sign is Taurus, moon sign is Leo, and Aquarius rising! (Gideon: What? Was that even Simlish? Sasha: That's such a virgo reaction.)

HEIGHT: 5'9 (1.75 cm)

ORIENTATION: Homosexy (Gideon: Did you mean homosexual- Sasha: NO! I know what I said! It's a JOKE! I didn't get mixed up this time! You are so pretendcious sometimes! *Gideon doesn’t dare correct him this time; Sasha’s irritated enough.*)

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: I'm from San Myshuno, born and raised, but my mom was from Simvlakia and I understand and speak Simvlakian a little bit. I can't write it for sh*t.

FAVORITE FRUIT: Twinkies. (*Gideon shakes his head*)

FAVORITE SEASON: Summer.

FAVORITE FLOWER: Sunflowers.

FAVORITE SCENT: (*Looks sheepishly at Gideon*) Cartier's Pasha. (*Gideon sits up, pleased*)

COFFEE, TEA, or HOT CHOCOLATE: Cigarettes. (Gideon: What happened to quitting? Sasha: I'm no quitter! Hey- don't look at me like that...I am trying. It's been three days, ok? Gideon: I'm so proud of you!)

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: I need 7-8. I'm a pretty deep sleeper.

DOGS or CATS: Yes.

DREAM TRIP: I don't know...I haven't really been out of San Myshuno. I always wanted to visit my mom's family in Simvlakia, but I wouldn't know where to begin. After she died, my father got rid of all her pictures, her papers, documents...I don't have anything from her, except for a stuffed animal from when I was really little. (*Gideon inhales sharply and his expression darkens- it begins to soften again when Sasha rests his head on his shoulder.*)

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: One? Two? I guess I get cold at night. (Gideon, knowingly: Hey- I can keep you warm at night. *Sasha, perking up*: You are a pervert! Is this a ploy to get me in your bed? Gideon: Always... Sasha: *Snickers*)

RANDOM FACT: Sasha has a green thumb. It's something he shares with his late mom. He's really good with plants.

I AM TAGGING: @agena87, @damseljamsel, @lynzishell, @alinelie (plz plz plz!), @simarcana (Alika or any of your fabulous OCs), @eslanes (love your stuff and saw you have more storytelling coming soon?), and even though @greighish is taking a hiatus, I AM NOT ! This is all optional, do it if you want to, ignore me at your own risk, up to you! ❤️😆

[rosie-rosem]

heart of our home

❥ pairing: husband!dad!jay x wife!mom!fem!reader

❥ genre: slight angst, slight fluff, parents!au, comfort

❥ summary: as much as you cherished your role as a wife and mother, there were moments when you felt overwhelmed. Jay's parents often visited while he was at work. They were kind people, but there was an unspoken expectation that you would cater to their every need simply because you are the wife and homemaker.

❥ warnings: mention of food, crying, feeling taken for granted, mostly lowercase, grammar mistakes, let me know if i missed something.

———————————

WC: 530

A/N: hihi, i wanted to post something other than tweeting hearts or the tlit21c series so here we are! i had this in my drafts for a while, but i hope you enjoy it although it’s quite short! :D

———————————

you didn't mind being hospitable, but it sometimes left you feeling unappreciated and taken for granted.

today was no different. Jay's parents had stopped by, and you welcomed them with a warm smile, just like you always did. you prepared a meal for them, and as they finished eating, you cleared the dishes and tidied up the kitchen. all the while, you kept a cheerful facade, not wanting to burden Jay with your feelings.

after they left, min-ju your daughter was put to bed, and you awaited Jay's return. as the front door opened, you looked up, attempting to mask the subtle sorrow in your eyes. Jay walked in, and though he greeted you with a loving smile, he sensed something wasn't right.

"hey, you," he said softly, setting his bag down. "how was your day?"

"It was good," you replied, avoiding eye contact. "just the usual." you turned away, pretending to busy yourself with the dishes, hoping he wouldn't press further. but Jay was intuitive; he knew you too well.

he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you gently. "come on, love, I can tell something's bothering you. you know you can talk to me, right?"

you sighed, feeling the weight of your emotions crumbling your composure. "it's just... I sometimes feel like I'm taken for granted. your parents expect me to do everything for them just because I'm the wife. It's like I don't have a say in anything when they're around."

Jay listened attentively, his eyes filled with understanding. "i’m sorry, y/n. I didn't realize it was getting to you like this. i’ll talk to my parents and make sure they understand that you're not just here to serve them or me."

Tears welled up in your eyes, touched by his concern. "I just don't want to cause any problems, Jay." He gently wiped away a tear with his thumb. "you're not causing problems, you're expressing yourself, and that's important. you're the heart of our home, not just a servant for anyone. I love you for everything you do, and I want you to be happy."

In that moment, you felt a sense of relief and gratitude. Jay's reassurance and empathy were exactly what you needed. with him by your side, you knew you didn't have to bear this burden alone.

—

Jay spoke to his parents about the situation, ensuring that they respected and appreciated your role as a wife and mother. They soon understood that you were an equal partner in the household. and so, your interactions became more harmonious.

you and jay grew even closer through this experience. he made an effort to help with household chores and took a more active role in managing visits from his parents. we learned to communicate openly and honestly, fostering a deeper bond that strengthened our family.

life didn't magically become perfect, but it improved significantly. Jay's parents now saw you as a cherished member of their family, and you felt valued and loved in your role as a wife and mother. you both took knowing that you could rely on each other's support and understanding, making your home a place of love, understanding, and acceptance.

——————————

© rosie-rosem

[wintervalewritersecond]

immortal she - wednesday addams

requested: yes! requests: open! is it possible for a Wednesday x Reader where Reader is cursed immortal that is one of Nevermore Academy's Board that sided with Weems on letting Wednesday attend to the Academy (Reader's look is young) and the reason sided with Weems is that Reader is curious at the Addams girl that was prophesied to be the one who will end Reader's long immortal life then Reader pretends to be student and hangs out with Wednesday and Enid then times past Reader is slowly gaining feelings for her?

wordcount: 4.188 (quite long compared to my other work!) warnings: talk about (wanting) death, talk about the negativity of being immortal, they/them pronouns, characters are aged up to 18, Wednesday may be quite ooc toward the end, possible character death, cursewords.

You have been living since the year 1863 and you have attended Nevermore for most of your life. Though, there might be a change to that, as you have never seen a human as fascinating as Wednesday Addams.

"Alright, alright," Weems puts up her hands. "I will be sending the message to Morticia. I guess that miss Wednesday Addams will be starting here sometime next week. The meeting is dismissed, thank you."

You pack up your binder and pens before shoving them in your bag, exiting the stuffy room, and walking to your own dorm. You are not quite a student, but also not quite a teacher. You do have your own room at Nevermore, hidden in the tallest tower that barely gets visited by anyone. You would consider yourself an assistant; you have been helping out the principals of Nevermore since 1883. You started your school journey here at just twelve years old. But then, at the end of your education, your powers really started kicking in. Your appearance still looks like that of an 18-year-old, though you have been living for much more than that.

Other board members were freaked out by the Addams family. Gomez and Morticia attended Nevermore as well, and you clearly remember their entire drama that even got the police involved. After that, the school swore to never let any Addams attend Nevermore ever again.

But, people voted to let the girl come to school; including you. Weems had given you a look, hearing you and the other members out before making the final decision. Wednesday Addams will be a Nevermore student next week.

You had told Principal Weems. You often walked around in the Nightshade library which is filled with old books, though one, in particular, called your name. It was filled with prophecies, and two of those stood out to you. One was of the Nevermore school being destroyed, but the other one included you. Your long, immortal life ends after nearly 160 years. What do both of the prophecies have in common?

Wednesday Addams.

Wednesday Addams was the one that would end Nevermore and would end your life.

But, how believable has the book been? It has been drawn years ago by the mother of Rowan Laslow. You had seen her before she passed, just after she went crazy thanks to her powers. Could you trust whatever it was that she put onto paper?

Nevermore shall see in less than a week.

-

"Wednesday is certainly a unique name. I'm guessing that that was the day you were born?"

You stood to the side of Principal Weems as Wednesday, Morticia and Gomez had sat down. You greeted Morticia and Gomez with a smile and a handshake. You weren't exactly friends when they attended Nevermore, but you had hung out multiple times.

"I was born on Friday the 13th."

A small smile is on your face as you look down at the ground. Weems keeps talking, though you don't pay attention.

"Did you know that your mother and Y/N used to be roommates back in the day?"

You look back up, looking from Weems to Morticia before nodding. Morticia and you shared a dorm for a semester.

"You don't look a day older than 18," Wednesday replies, her face stoic. "I wonder how you graduated with your sanity intact."

"Now," you wave your hand. "It was not bad, Wednesday. Your mother made me gain interest in the dark and the dead."

"Nevermore usually doesn't accept students mid-term," Weems continues, flipping through the pages of her clipboard. "But given Wednesday's perfect grades and your family's long history with the school, I've spoken to the board and we've made an exception."

You have never seen someone so emotionlessly show that they were disappointed, yet you can see it in Wednesday's eyes. Though her parents are ecstatic about their daughter finally 'fitting in' at a school, Wednesday certainly wasn't having it.

"Now, Y/N will lead you to your dorms, you have been assigned a spot in Ophelia Hall, just like your mother once had," Weems smiles sweetly. "You can introduce her to the school, Y/N. I will stay behind with Morticia and Gomez to go over some small things."

You only nod, looking at Wednesday before exiting the room. The girl follows you, not saying a word.

"Nevermore was founded in 1791 to educate people like us. Outcasts, freaks, monsters."

It almost sounds like you are reading it off of a piece of paper. You have been tasked with introducing new students for a while now, as you seem to know the school better than any of the teachers or even Principal Weems. To be fair, you have been here the longest, except for maybe some vampires.

"You can save the sanitized sales pitch," Wednesday reacts. "It doesn't suit you well. Besides, I don't plan on staying here for long. This was my parent's idea."

You only hum in response. She does not know what she has been destined to do.

"Well," you nod. "Rumors have been swirling around that you killed someone at your old school, and that you have been sent here by your old principal."

"Actually, it was two people, but who's counting?"

You let out a laugh before opening the big doors that lead to the Quad. It just so happened that it is lunchtime, so the entire place is roaming with people.

"So, Nevermore is the place for outcasts. We have different groups, actually. There are four main groups."

"I am not interested in participating in tribal adolescent cliches."

"Oh, believe me, I know. But this isn't like normie school. I have attended this place since 1875 and I never really mingled with a lot of people."

You point to Bianca who is sitting at the fountain, dipping her hands in the water.

"We have sirens, vampires," you point to the table with Yoko. "I tend to hang out with them. Some of them have been here for quite a bit of time as well. Then we have-"

Your sentence gets interrupted by howling.

"Werewolves. Full moons are quite loud, so earplugs are needed. And lastly, we have Gorgons."

Ajax coincidentally walks up to you, a distressed look on his face.

"Y/N! Good to see you. I just heard some dirt and I know that you know basically everything. Enid's roommate eats human flesh! She totally chowed down on that kid she killed."

You awkwardly step to the side, revealing Wednesday standing next to you.

"Quite the contrary," she says. "I actually fillet the bodies of my victims, then feed them to my menagerie of pets."

"Ah," you nod. "And she actually killed two kids. Not that I am counting."

With a smile, you walk away with Wednesday, into Ophelia Hall.

You knock on the door, revealing the excited Enid. Her room has been unshared for the entire semester, and she really wanted to meet her new roommate.

"Hi! I am Enid," she squeals, trying to embrace the girl. Wednesday takes a big step back. "Not a hugger. Got it."

"Well," you clasp your hands together. "It was nice to see you, Enid. I guess I will leave Wednesday here to unpack. I will see you both tomorrow!"

With a wave you close the door, walking to your very own tower. Wednesday surely is a very special person. It leaves Wednesday, stuck in the colorful room which looks like a rainbow threw up on it.

"What's their deal?"

Wednesday asks after unpacking her stuff, making it clear to Enid to not let anything brightly colored close to her, insisting it would make her skin peel off.

"Y/N? Oh, they have been here for the longest time. Can't age at all. I would have left Nevermore a looong time ago," Enid lays down on her bad, typing away on her phone. "Not that popular as they hang out with Principal Weems a lot, but they are actually very nice. You might like them. They are into the same creepy stuff as you are. But, less scary."

-

Wednesday surely proved her difference from the others. Everyone seems to be mesmerized by her, and for good reason. You had been hanging out with her and Enid quite often. You didn't really have anything else to do, except to help out Weems or a teacher sometimes during a class. You would sometimes give studying help for History, but besides that, nothing.

You were sitting on the balcony, listening to Wednesday play the cello. Your balcony was almost attached to hers, only a mere meter between the two. Besides her music, you also heard people cheering and singing to music. Another party in the Quad, another one you haven't been invited to.

Your life has been going on for so long, yet you can count on one hand how many parties or outings you have been invited on. Once you had graduated, the principal at the time asked for your help and you just... stuck around. You had nothing to do.

You had outlived your parents and siblings, and even your friends after they had left Nevermore. The vampires were one of the only ones that were around your actual age, but they didn't stay forever either. Not to mention that they also just genuinely didn't want to invite you. You were known as the assistant, the one working with teachers and Weems, not as someone who could have fun.

It hurt. It did. You have not been able to experience normal teenagehood, even though you have been 18 years old for this long. You didn't want to be popular, but you aren't against partying or having a get-together once in a while. You haven't even been to any Rave'n dance as a visitor.

You thought of dying. You tried poison, hanging, but nothing worked. You could never convince someone to try and stab you, either. At least, it didn't seem to work.

"Aren't you supposed to be partying?"

You let out a huff.

"Not invited. No one wants to invite the right hand of the Principal. Always just hanging out on my own."

"Sounds perfect."

You had expected nothing less. A laugh escapes your lips as you stare up at the moon and the stars.

"Sometimes it is," you admit. "It just sucks because it seems like I outlive all of my friends. Hard to make new ones."

"I'm failing to see that problem. You don't need friends, they will only drag you down."

Silence. You only shrug before sitting down on the stones, your legs dangling off of the edge of the balcony.

"You're not the best at cheering people up, Wednesday," you laugh shortly. "At least you are realistic. I guess it's just a fear. Never dying."

She hums, placing her cello on its standard before walking to your side of the balcony.

"Sounds absolutely horrible. Better than a fear of being the center of a big catastrophe. A bad one, of course."

-

More days pass as it is time for the Harvest Festival. It is mandatory to visit, but you have been tasked with keeping an eye on the students. Again. The responsibility is not hard, but you wish you could just go and have fun, even if for once.

You did sit down with Yoko and Enid, though. You had ordered donuts for yourself and for them, sharing them while listening to the drama that Enid had found out.

"Hello, girls, Y/N," Weems's voice can be heard from behind you. "Can I steal Y/N for only a second?"

You stand up from the seat, sighing as you push your donuts to the middle of the table, following the tall woman. She turns around, a smile on her face though you can see it is a cover-up.

"Wednesday Addams has sneaked away. I kept an eye on her, but she is gone. If you see her, report it to me."

After only nodding, Weems walks away, probably trying to find the dark-haired girl. But, after a few minutes, you get pulled behind some cars, a hand covering your mouth as you are being shushed.

"Wednesday?"

She shushes you again, crouching down on the ground.

"You are the only one I can trust right now," she hisses. "One word to Weems and I will make sure you regret it."

You just shrug and nod.

"She has been looking for you," you whisper. "Where were you?"

"I followed a sound in the woods and was met with Rowan Laslow. He tried to kill me."

"What?!" You whisper yell. "Wednesday, are you okay?"

"If he did better, I wouldn't be here," she rolls her eyes before shoving a piece of paper in your face. "He ran off, but before that, he dropped this. He said that I am destined to destroy Nevermore."

You shakily take the paper in your hands, seeing the illustration that you know well. Wednesday Addams standing in the Quad, flames around her as she holds some sort of weapon.

"You have been here the longest," she says. "Tell me what you know."

What are you supposed to do? You can't just tell her that she also is supposed to kill you. But at the same time, the drawings may not be as it seems.

"Come with me."

You fold up the paper before grabbing her wrist, pulling her with you as you try and stay hidden. Once you reach the Edgar Allan Poe statue, you turn to the girl, letting go of her wrist.

"One word and I will report it to Weems. All of it."

She sternly nods as you turn back around, snapping your fingers twice as the statue moves back. Once in the library, you point to a book.

"It has the same symbol," Wednesday whispers, grabbing the book before sitting down on the dusty chair. "It matches it perfectly."

The left side of the picture matches the loose piece of paper that Wednesday had. It confirmed her greatest fear; she would be the one responsible for a catastrophe, and not the good kind. She is the one that would change everything.

"How do you know this?"

"After years of roaming around here, I have read every single book. Even the one of Rowan Laslow's mother. He will be expelled, no doubt."

"Why are you helping me?"

You lean against the stairs, shrugging. You can't help it, you just hope that she proves the prophecy wrong.

"You mesmerize me. In a weird way," you admit. "I have seen a lot of prophecies. I wish you prove this one wrong."

Wednesday only hums before stuffing the book in her bag, walking past you and up the stairs. She pauses for a second, looking back slightly.

"If I prove it wrong, don't think that I don't have the power to destroy the school."

You let out a laugh, nodding your head.

"I would never."

-

"Come on, Wednesday! Rave'n is the party of the year!" Wednesday throws up her arms. "I will help you pick out a dress! Or a suit! Please, just go!"

You nod, looking up from your book.

"Enid is right, you know. From what I heard, it's a blast."

"Finally!" Enid cheers. "Someone who understands! Thank you, Y/N."

"Enid, I would rather stick pins in my eyes than step foot in the Rave'n. Although I might do that anyway."

You laugh, closing your book before placing it next to you. Enid has been trying to convince Wednesday for a week already, insisting that she needed to go.

"I might even go," you nod, making Wednesday look at you. "Weems gave me this time off. The new teacher, Thornhill, is keeping watch this time."

"Alright, well, if Wednesday doesn't want to go, then I will just go dress shopping by myself. Care to join me, Y/N?"

"Sure, I have nothing else to do."

Enid squeals before grabbing her phone, wallet, and bag, sprinting out of the room already.

"We have to go together."

You frown, looking at Wednesday before buttoning up your blazer. Not a student, yet still wearing the Nevermore outfit.

"You know more about the prophecies than I do. We can find out more about the prophecy, and more about that monster in the woods."

"Wednesday Addams," you grin. "Are you asking me to the Rave'n?"

The girl's jaw clenches as she just stands there, already slightly regretting mentioning the Rave'n dance.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Sure, I will help you."

Enid's reaction to Wednesday joining you for the shopping was insane. You have never seen a girl that excited. You had quickly found an outfit you loved, but Wednesday insisted on not needing one, she had a dress already. But, once you pass Uriah's Heap, Wednesday stops walking.

A beautiful, black gown, which fits her personal style perfectly. She would not be caught dead wearing one of the dresses that Enid proposed to her, but Wednesday insists she doesn't need the dress.

-

The day of the Rave'n. You stood in the hallway, waiting for Enid and Wednesday to come out. The door opens, revealing an excited Enid and a less-than-happy Wednesday. You let out a laugh, greeting them before walking down the stairs, the music of the party already heard even from a small distance.

The party was everything Wednesday hated. The music, the lights, all of it.

"I am suspicious of Xavier," she says, staring the poor boy down. "It always seems like he is in the exact right space. It is too convenient."

Time went by where you sat with Wednesday, talking about all her theories and who she suspected could be the reason for her destroying the school, or who could be the monster.

"Have you heard anything of any other prophecies? There must be-"

Wednesday stops when she feels a splatter on her face, soon followed by a downpour of red liquid. This is the first time you have seen a smile on her face, though it disappears fast when she finds out it isn't what she thought it was.

"They couldn't even get real pig's blood."

Her eyes fly back to you, seeing your once white clothes drenched in red. It made her feel something, something unknown and something she hated. The blood, though fake, suited you. You grab her arm to take her out of the red rain, but once you do, her head flies back.

It looks like she is having a seizure, and that is certainly not what you need right now.

"Wednesday? Wednesday!"

She jumps back up, her eyes big and her eyebrows frowned.

"Are you okay?"

She looks at you for a second before looking at the exit, walking through the layer of red liquid without a word, leaving you behind confused.

-

The red was finally washed out of your hair and off of your skin, though slightly staining it still. You had sat down on your bed, just reading again when your door flies open.

"Why did you not tell me?"

Wednesday stood in your room, dressed in a simple black outfit while holding the thick book that was found in the Nightshade library.

"Told you what?"

The book gets thrown on your bed, opening on a specific page. It has the drawing that you know all too well. You, on the ground in the middle of the Quad, with Wednesday next to you. Both are covered in blood, though you look more lifeless than Wednesday ever did.

"You knew that I was destined to kill you," she hisses, pointing at the two figures. "This. This is in the same book that Rowan kept spitting about. You knew that the prophecy was in there."

You are at a loss for words.

"Why did you not tell me?" She repeats.

You close the book, pushing it back to her.

"Wednesday," you sigh. "It's nothing. Destroying the school is a prophecy that should be avoided. This one does not matter nearly as much."

You have never seen the girl this emotional, even if the emotion is anger. She was often very reserved, and though her comments are often dark and mean, she always kept her monotone voice.

"I will decide for that myself," she hisses, taking the book before turning away, leaving the room without any more words.

-

You had not talked to Wednesday in a while, as it almost seemed like she tried to avoid you. Wednesday was busy enough, and there was no reason to bother her.

Your room has been quiet for hours if not days, but that gets changed when you hear screams. Even from the top of the towers, it still sounds like it is next to your door. You look out of your window, jumping out to stand on your balcony. People are running, screaming, and trying to escape.

After grabbing shoes and slipping them on fast, you run out of your door. The halls are empty already, what the hell is going on? Is there a fire? You run to the Quad, trying to see what is going on from a distance. A random man walks out of the door, dressed in what seems like a costume from Pilgrim World. When you look closer, you see the rips in the clothing and the ghostly look that it has. Wait, is that Crackstone? What the hell?

You run down the stairs, being met by Xavier.

"Xavier!" You run up to him. "What the fuck is going on?"

He is out of breath, holding a bow and arrow. He grips his side before pointing to the wooden doors.

"Crackstone. He is in there, he wants to destroy the school."

You look at him shocked before looking at the door.

"Wednesday- Wednesday is in trouble," you whisper before rushing to the door and kicking it open.

"Get away from her!" Xavier screams, pointing the arrow to Crackstone before letting it go.

It doesn't hit him, though. Instead, the arrow turns right back around, back towards Xavier. You dash forward. Neither of them can get hurt. You don't allow it. Before Wednesday has time to react, the arrow hits you, right in the middle of your torso.

"Y/N?!"

You fall to the ground, hissing when you feel the stinging pain.

"Get them out of here, Xavier," you groan, breaking the arrow before throwing the end back on the ground. "You too, Wednesday."

Xavier tries to drag her away but receives a punch to his shoulder.

"Get everyone out of here, Xavier. Leave me."

Wednesday helps you up, the sword heavy in her hands. She has been doing fencing ever since she could walk, and defeating a dead guy can't be too hard.

"I distract, you stab."

"That is my specialty," Wednesday hisses.

You charge at the figure again, holding one of the metal pipes that lay on the ground. You hit him, though he seemed good at deflecting every single thing you did. But then, you finally got him down. You pin him down using your hands and knees. God, he smells.

"Get him, Wednesday!"

"You're in the way!"

You groan as you try to keep the man under your grip, kicking his staff out of his hands.

"I don't fucking care, just stab!"

Wednesday's mind is racing. She can't just stab through you to try and get Crackstone. If you would just move-

"Now, Wednesday!"

She closes her eyes tightly as she drives the sword through your chest, right into the heart of Crackstone. She has never felt this disgusting while holding something sharp. It usually filled her black heart with joy, but right now the only feeling in her body is her heart squeezing together.

Wednesday twists the sword and Crackstone gasps underneath you. Your breathing is heavy as you hold him down, just long enough to see him turn into ashes and flames, blowing away in the wind.

The Quad looks horrible, patches of grass are on fire and everything is destroyed. But Wednesday only has eyes for you. She drops down on her knees as you had fallen down, the sword still in your back and your breathing slowly getting more desperate.

"Y/N!" You barely respond, only a faint sound falling from your lips.

"If you die," Wednesday hisses, balling her hands up into fists. "I will kill you."

Her eyes are brimmed with tears, something that happened only twice before. You let out a pained laugh, your hand gripping hers.

"Oh, Wednesday, don't cry," you mumble. "It doesn't quite fit you."

"Xavier!" She shouts, hoping that the boy is still close by. "Xavier!"

After a few seconds, he hears his footsteps running toward her, but she doesn't look up. Her grip is tight on your hand.

"Get someone, they-they need to go to the infirmary." Xavier stands shocked at the sight in front of him. You, on the floor, the Quad in flames. "Now!"

Wednesday never cried. Not since the death of Nero. Not since Thing. She vowed to never cry again, insisting that the act of showing emotion made you weak. But she did.

Wednesday cried. Not hysterically, no screaming, just a lone tear sliding down her cheek as she can only hope. Hope to get you to the infirmary on time, hope that you are still with her.

Return to me.

[jokerflecker]

An eye for an eye

Dirty fic time! Red Eye with Cillian Murhpy fic staring Jackson Rippner and Lisa Reisert.

BEWARE! HUGE TRIGGER WARNINGS!

Its a very dark story, Jackson wants revenge on Lisa for ruining his plan on the plane and he gets it by using her body as he sees fit.

Warning: Non-con, dub-don, humiliation, edging, ruined orgasm, dirty talk, spitting. Its a dark one, please thread carefully if this is not your thing. (AO3 link)

Jackson smirked as he finally watched the light go out at the apartment he had been monitoring. The events on the plane had left him incapacitated for a while, but he was back. The police was dealt with, his throat had healed up. Now it was time to settle the matter. Lisa Reistert needed to learn that he was not to be trifled with, that she had messed with the wrong person.

He know how he was going to do it, too. She was home quite a lot these days. From what he found out, she quit her job at the hotel and got a job as a callcenter worker, so she could work from home. Her talents were wasted, selling crap to people over the phone, but he took great delight in how scared she was to leave her house. She had her groceries delivered, the occasional take out food. But overall the girl no longer left home unless she absolutely had to. On top of that he had noticed how late she stayed up at night. Sometimes her lights didn’t go off until it started to become dawn again. That meant she went to sleep really late, or she didn’t sleep at all. He could imagine she’d become scared of the dark after what he put her through.

A few days after Jackson stalked her apartment one last time, Lisa sat at her desk again with a sigh. It was a boring Tuesday night and she had no idea what to do with herself. She hadn’t left the house for eleven days straight, which was a personal record for her. She warmed up some left over Chinese and then fired up her Playstation 5. Since she spent so much time at home these days, she picked up a new hobby. Videogames. She could pour all her pain and frustration out on some poor level boss, cussing and swearing like a sailor in the process.

As she ate, she continued playing her game, her eyes fixated on the screen and on the progress of her game. She didn’t even hear her front door being opened and closed. Not until it was too late. She saw a figure sauntering inside casually and just when she was about to shout her head off, he showed her the small gun he was holding. “Hush, Lisa….I’ve come to visit..” he said tauntingly with a cruel glint of his eyes, sounding as if he was doing her a favor.

The gesture caused the scream to stick in her throat and not come out, she was frozen in place as she felt cold sweat break out all over her body. Her pajamas started to brush her skin, like a shower curtain that stuck to your body uncomfortably and cold. “What are you doing here, Jackson?” she whispered, wondering who he was threatening to hurt this time.

“I’m here for you, I feel like we have…” he stated, as if he was an old friend that came along. He brought his hands to his face, pretending to think it over. “Unfinished business. Yeah, that’s it. We have unfinished business…”

Lisa’s eyes darted around the apartment, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon against him, but she didn’t see anything. Suddenly she noticed there wasn’t a single pen lying around.

“I took care of that. I figured you didn’t want to be as naughty as last time..” he mused, raising a brow at her as if she was willful child. “How…how did you even get in here?” With a shit-eating grin, he showed her that he had a key. “Stole it. Got the superintendent to let me in the first time, pretended to be your long lost brother..” he explained, getting a sense of pleasure out of telling her his secrets. “Then I took your spare key. You didn’t need it, did you? You don’t get a lot of visitors…”

The words caused her to lower her gaze. She couldn’t even remember the last time she saw a friend or family member. “Who is it?” she asked through gritted teeth, making him tilt his head in confusion. “Who is what? What is your confused little head even talking about?”

“Nobody. Its just you and me this time.” She nodded a sigh of relief, knowing he’d rub her face in it if this wasn’t the case. Shestared at her TV-screen and suddenly jumped up with a growl.

“Goddamnit! You happy now? You made me lose my echoes!”

He stepped closer, putting his hand on his hip and leaning his head forward, as if he misheard. “I did…what?” he asked in an eerie tone.

“My blood echoes! I’m in the Research Hall and you made me lose a ton of bloodechoes! I could have levelled with that..”

“Have you lost your goddamn mind?” he demanded to know, but then walked closer, so he could see what she was doing on TV. He frowned as he saw the gruesome game that she was playing? “What the fuck is this?”

“Bloodborne,” she answered and sounded empty, away. As if she wasn’t even aware of what was happening anymore.

“You play videogames now?” he asked in a condescending tone. She glared at him. “What about it?”

He chuckled and sat down next to her, stroking a lock of hair out of her face. She made an annoyed sound when he did, her eyes fixated on the TV. For a moment, it seemed as if he was going to choke her out right on the spot.

“Turn the game off, Leese. We need to talk,” he said huskily. She didn’t respond and it made him uneasy. Was this how little power he had over her? Was he wrong? After a few moments, he took the controller out of her hands and she started to cry. As if she only now understood what was going to happen.

“Ssh, hey, no worries..” he soothed her and caressed her hair. “You’re going to kill me..” she softly said as she eyed him in fear. He chuckled some, delighting in seeing her so afraid. It caused a rush to go through his body.

“I’m not going to kill you, Leese. What I have planned is fun!” he said with eerie eyes. Lisa eyed him wearily. “What? Fun?”

He made himself comfortable and pulled her onto his chest, as if they were boyfriend and girlfriend. She almost looked like she enjoyed having someone touch her kindly. “Sure! You see, I’ve been monitoring you…it’s been pretty easy, since you rarely leave the house anymore..,” he started to explain, causing her to sniffle some more.

“I noticed how scared you are these days. Scared of the world. Which is a nice revenge, since you fucked up my life..” he stated as his hand travelled up and down her upper leg. When he reached her knee, he started to squeeze it, until she whimpered in pain.

“But the police…they took you..” she said, shaking her head still in disbelief. He scoffed and shot her his most charming smile. “Leese…we both know they could never hold me. You think I don’t have people helping me out? I was out within a fucking month. And I’ve been planning this since then.” He brought his face close to hers and inhaled her scent. “You smell so fucking good,” he rumbled.

“What do you want?” Lisa asked, refusing to look at him.

“See, you told me some things..personal things. About your love life.” As he spoke, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and caressed the scar. She winced as she suspected that he was going to force himself on her. He eyed her and tsked, putting his gun on the table so it was out of reach for him.

“What do you think of me? Oh no, that’s not what I want, Leese. See, what I want…” he pulled her closer to him. “What I want is for you to admit you need me to.”

She looked at him and frowned. “What do you mean? What do you mean I need you to?” she demanded to know. Jackson chuckled. “Remember I rough I was on you? In that bathroom of the plane?”

She nodded, she saw that scene play in her mind every night when she closed her eyes.

“I saw you. I saw the real you. I saw the need in your eyes and your fear of asking for it. See, all women can be whores, they just need..” he mused as his hand slid into her pajama jacket. He massaged her breast and started to twist and pinch her nipple. Lisa’s jaw dropped and she moaned softly. “They just need a little push,” he whispered and started to suck a spot on her neck.

Lisa moaned louder and bit his shoulder, to stifle her moan. Her cheeks were red in shame and she lowered her gaze. Jackson pulled back with a smirk, eyeing her up and down. “See, Leese? Almost made you cream in your panties, by just a little kiss..”

“What if I say no?”

Jackson shrugged. “Like I said, I’m not that guy. If you say no, I’ll go home. You stay here. And you waste away.” The casualty of his tone of voice made her look up at him. “You’re wasting away,” he told her in all seriousness now. “You’re scared of the world and of what it can do to you,” he said softly, his words not more than a whisper. “I am giving you the option to completely fall apart by my hand..I’ll shatter every little bit of willpower you have. That'll give me the closer I need and it will bring out your little inner slut.”

She stared at him and was still flustered. “What makes you think I want it? That I enjoyed it?” she asked in a shaky voice. He threw his head back and laughed. “Oh please…every woman secretly wants to be dominated by a strong, dominating male. You’re just too timid to tell us. Why else would you keep a dildo by your bed? A dragon’s tail, that’s a nice detail, Leese. You little freak.” His eyebrows wiggled as he sent her a toothy grin.

So he was in here, she thought. He’d been in here in those few times she wasn’t and got to know her. Intimately. “And?” she asked as if she didn’t care that he saw it. He brought his face close to hers, pushing his nose against her cheek. “And it smells intoxicating..” he whispered and laughed when she pushed him off with a disgusted sound. “Oh all high and mighty, are we? Let me work my magic, Leese. It will give you your life back.”

“And why are you so prone on doing that for me, huh? Don’t you wanna see me miserable?” she asked as she stood up and started to pace around. He smirked, sitting back comfortably on the couch again with a shrug. “Oh, there’s something in it for me too. I get to see you crumble, fall apart. I get to break you under my boot and watch your little mind shatter because of me. It will give me the closure I need. I do warn you..” as he spoke he took out a card with his address and telephone number, putting it on her table. “Once I’m done with you, you might come back for more.”

She scoffed, shaking her head as she paced back and forth in front of the couch. Meanwhile Jackson was watching her like a hawk, as she was prey and he was ready to pounce.

“You can’t possibly know that I like being…”

“Manhandled?”

“Shut up! Like I said, you can’t possibly know that!”

He grinned at her and opened up his phone, pulling up a blog and showing it to her. “Is this not your Tumblr account? Subgirl800? You write a lot of naughty stories, don’t you?”

Lisa gasped and averted her eyes. The game was up, she couldn’t possibly deny that she craved to be treated exactly how he wanted to treat her. “What do I do?”

“Take a fucking shower, you reek,” he said with a hint of disgust on his face. “Then come back out to the bedroom and we’ll begin.”

Lisa did as she was told, she took a shower and came into the bedroom in a pink babydoll dress. She acted a little awkward and coy, fidgeting with her hands.

Jackson was laying on her bed, reading her diary and rubbing himself over the fabric of his pants. Seeing it made her bow her head. “No. Look at me. Is this not one of your stories? Well?”

She nodded as she glanced at him through her eyelashes. He eyed the dress that she was wearing and gestured at it. “Take it off. The fuck you think this is, you being cute? Show me how fucking wet you are.”

The woman swallowed hard as he slid out of her dress and stepped closer to him, revealing that she had no underwear on underneath. “You can’t talk to me that way..” she weakly tried. Jackson pulled her closer and inspected her breasts.

“Tell you what..” he said huskily, licking at her nipples. Lisa let her head fall back with small moans. “I’ll make a deal with ya..” another lick, another moan. “I perform a little test…” A lick and another moan. “Just a small one.” A lick again. “And if you pass, I’ll treat you real nice from now on. But if you don’t, then I’ll keep talking like this.”

He held up two fingers, wiggling them in her face before he played with her folds lightly. Lisa gasped, it has been a while since she was touched there. Suddenly he slid them inside of her and smirked. “Fuck, you're wet,” he murmured, planting kisses on her neck. Lisa's jaw dropped as she felt the sensation, but did her best to remain stoic. “What test?” she asked breathlessly.

“I'm going to tell you that you're flith, that you're a fucking hole that deserves to be fucked and nothing else..” he said and inspected her face really close. “Oh see...you failed.” Lisa whimpered and did her best not to break. “I dont like that talk!” she insisted, making Jackson chuckle again. “Then why did you tighten up?” he asked her and smirked when he saw her avert her eyes. “That's right.” He keeps whispering. “See you can act high and mightly all you want but this little cunt betrays you..”

He pulls his fingers out and smirks as he sees the mess you made on them. “Get ony our knees, Lisa.” he tells her with an eerie stare. Lisa nods and does so and he stuffs his smeared fingers in her mouth. At first she struggles, but soon she stays docile. “I want you to focus on the taste, on your taste..” he muses as he starts to rub her clit with his other hand. Lisa moans as her body shudders in need. “And I need you to think about how you frustrated me.” He rubs it and stops right before she's able to climax. She whimpers sadly. “Suck them dry,” he orders and waits a few moments, before edging her again. As her jaw drops right when he pulls back, he pulls his fingers from her mouth and smears them on her cheek, smirking. She is a panting mess and tries to stay calm.

“Look at that...you want it, don't you?” he asked, smirking down at her. She panted heavily as she looked up at him, her cheeks smeared and her eyelids heavy. Jackson peeled his clothes off as she sat there on her knees, close to crying in frustration. But he had all the time in the world, peeling of layer after layer, while staring her down. “You're not so full of fight anymore, are you? Quite eager to just sit there and take it, actually.”

Lisa averted her eyes, blushing heavily. “Look at me,” Jackson demanded. “Look up and face the truth. You're a slut, Lisa. Stop trying to hide it.”

“I'm a slut..” she whispered. Jackson yanked her up and threw her on her bed, holding her down by her neck. He positioned himself behind her and slid right into her with a groan. “Fuck, that's one wet little pussy, Leese...”

Lisa moans louder and louder as he takes on a firm and steady pace. She can feel his length stretch her out and hitting her in all the right spots. When she is about to go over, he pulls back with a smirk and chuckles as he sees her squirm in need.

“Please..please I need more..” she pleaded, as he firmly kept her in place with his hand. “Oh I know you do, babygirl..” he cooed. “But I want a little taste first.”

He releases her neck and finds her toy. “Lay on your back and hold your legs. Show me your needy slit,” he ordered, as he showed her the dragon dildo. The toy was red and black, thick and covered in bumps and ridges, for extra pleasure.

Lisa did as she was told, showing him her wet folds. Jackson chuckled and tapped the head of the toy against her clit lightly, making her moan. “You like that huh...having your needy clit teased..I bet you edge yourself for days on end just so you can suffer, you needy whore.”

Lisa bit her lip and swallowed hard, revealing the truth of his words.

Jackson stuffed her with the toy, holding it firmly in place with one hand, as the thumb of his other crew lazy circles around her clit. He brought his face close and tickled the nub with his his tongue, making her moan and whimper. “Fuck..” he muttered, then latched onto her clit like a starved man, sucking it and lavishing it in his saliva. When she got close to coming, he pulled back and grabbed the end of the toy, fucking her pussy with it. As she got close to coming from that, he attacked her clit again with his mouth.

“Please please, I can't anymore, please..” she stammered, her body jerking and spasming in need.

He chuckled and put his phone in the bookcase that was across from her bed, he put it on record and smirked at her. “it's time for the grand finale.”

He laid down on the bed and moved her so that she was facing the camera, her back to him. He pushed her onto his cock, making her moan in need. “Now, you're gonna sit here and stay still,” he murmured in her ear. She nodded and did her best, but she wanted to ride his cock to completion desperately.

Jackson reached round and started to rub her clit, drawing circles around it with his fingers lazily, flicking it and grazing it with his digits any time she got close to a peak. It didnt take long to turn her into a sobbing, begging mess. “Please please, I'll do anything, just let me come, anything,” she whimpered, tears of frustration pouring out of her eyes.

“Say it, Leese. Say what I wanna hear.” he murmured in her ear. “I'm nothing, I'm a worthless slut, please, please ruin me!” she begged him pathetically. He grinned and suddenly rubbed her clit with fervor, coaxing her into the orgasm she was chasing so desperately, his cock still buried deep within her.

Her jaw dropped as she felt herself finally being pushed over the edge but her eyes snapped open when he pulled his fingers away too early. Her pussy twitched and she cried out in frustration when she realized that he had ruined her orgasm. He grabbed her hips and started to slam her up and down his cock, grunting and groaning.

“Thats it! That's the desperate little pussy I want to fuck! Twitching around me in need, while I force you into ruin. Still think you got the better of me, you fucking slut? Huh? Do you?” he muttered into her ear heatedly as she could do nothing else but take his cock.

Jackson growled as he felt her clench around his cock hard as he mercilessly fucked her, making her cry out at all this forced pleasure on her already battered, punished slit. He shot roped of thick warm cum inside of her and threw her aside.

She laid there, ruined, crying and holding her clit, as if she was trying to protect it from more abuse. He stuffed her mouth full with his cock. “Clean me!” he growled and fucked her mouth, until she cried more.

He smugly looked down at her as he pulled back, causing her to gasp for air and cry harder. He leaned down and spat in her face, before he slapped her.

Lisa could do nothing against it, but cry and squirm, her body still recovering from what he just put her through.

Jackson turned off the camera on his phone, sent her the video of what he just did to her and lazily dressed himself.

“Now Leese, this was a little payback, you ruined my plan, I ruin your little wet whore pussy. But now we're even. And I could tell that you enjoyed that,” he said with a smug chuckle, pulling out a business card. He took a pen out of his jacket pocket and wrote his address on the back. “If you want me to really make you come next time, then you can come over in a day or two, when you recovered and you really start to feel needy.”

He threw the businesscard on the bed, next to her bed, where she was still crying heavily. He smirked, picked up his gun and left the house.

Three days later, his doorbell rang. When he went to open the door, he grinned wickedly.

“Nice to see you, Lisa.”

[ninlilwinds]

Hey, i hope you don’t mind if I request the host club members with a Y/N that is like Yor forger from Spy x family?

Hello, not exactly sure how long you waited for this (but I bet it was a while), but here it is.

Summary: OHSHC members with a person like Yor from SpyxFamily

I tried making this where it can be read as either platonic or romantic since it wasn't specified.

Tamaki

-Tamaki would probably fluster you often, which ended up in his private doctor paying him more regular visits.

-Because of your shy(ish) nature, he'd try to restrain his affection, but sometimes he just had to hug you (see previous bullet for the results of that genius idea)

-Tries and enjoys your cooking, despite how terrible is taste

-You would disappear every so often, but he didn't find it suspicious, nor would he ask.

Honey

-Since you're so strong, he'd be ok with training with you. Usually, he'd never train with anyone besides Mori, but you'd proven your strength

-Adores it when you carry him around and how caring you are. Your nurturing spirit was something about you he was very fond of.

-He'd catch on later on what you were actually doing, but he'd pretend to not know and continue to act normal around you.

Mori

-At first, he hated the fact that you didn't need his protection. He was shocked and a bit offended over how strong you were compared to him, then he saw someone picking on you and how you simply scrambled for words unable to truly defend yourself

-He'd find your strength agility and skills very weird since you didn't necessarily come from a family known for martial arts, but he would shrug it off

-The first time he picked you up, he was caught off guard by your reaction. After a long day of walking around the school, organizing the big annual event, you noted your feet hurt. He swept you up, and on twisted yourself in his arms until you managed to smash him into the ground with a screech and your face covered in blush. It caught both you and him off guard. (You spent the rest of the day apologizing)

Kyoya

-Oh, he knew from the start. Who you were, what you did, everything. even so he didn't mind. In fact, he found it quite impressive.

-He would take extra note of your behavior. He knew you were quite dangerous, and he didn't want to push your boundaries.

-Once he knew your behavior patterns and what caused you to unexpectantly grow violent (courtesy of Tamaki), he would avoid any of that, meaning you were at arm's length, unless you were the one who started the contact

-Overall, he admires you and wants to reach a point where you admit who you are to him yourself

Hikaru

-Adores you but uses you a lot for his antics. Your strong and agile? Hey mind helping me set up this prank.

-Loves flustering you, and can even sometimes dodge your punches and kicks (rarely)

-Laughs whenever Tamaki receives a kick. He thinks it serves him right. But he does grow quite pouty whenever he's the one on the receiving end.

Kaoru

-He smiled fondly at you a lot whenever you become a dangerous tornado of kicks. He can't seem to find any fault in you

-He stays at a 6 feet distance, not wanting to get too close to you but still being interested and wanting to get to know you

-He loves relaxing with you (away from his brother), where he can calm down and simple have a conversation. He really appreciates how much enthusiasm and love you show whenever you're talking with people. It makes him feel appreciated

Haruhi

-She finds you quite strange at first. Why were you so easy to spook. And more importantly, why were you so inhumanly strong?

-She also sometimes finds your personality annoying, but eventually she grows fond of your cute shy and caring self.

-She defends you against Tamaki often, yelling at her senpai to leave you alone while you drink your tea

-Overall, it starts off rocky but gets a lot better later on

[vodkassassin]

Quick transmigration original story (agent 22) for WIP Wednesday!

@mad-madam-m oooh I’m so glad you’re interested!

—

Alesseo sets his glass down on the table with such a careful hand that it barely makes a sound. He chooses to stare at the clear liquid inside of it, and the vibrations that carry across the surface of that with every small noise of the room, instead of at the other people at the table.

Though, he can feel their stares on him.

He thinks it was a blessing, in fact, that the original Alesseo’s family was not close to him. That they did not care too much for him to interact overly much. Less interaction means they don’t know him as well as they might even pretend to.

As long as he remains politely distant, it won’t be too difficult to build himself a road of points toward resolving one of the original’s major Regrets.

“You’ll be going back to the university, then?” One of the brothers, the second eldest brother, Dantevius, suddenly asks.

Alesseo blinks and raises his gaze up from the cup. He considers the older man for a moment before dipping his head in a simple nod.

“Yes.” He replies.

“It’s too soon.” Mother immediately intercedes. There is a severe expression on her face that makes her look years older than she actually is. “You just got home from the hospital! You need more time to rest and recover.”

“The exams are coming up soon, so I need to prepare.”

“Mm.” Liera’s lips press even thinner, but she has no way to refute that.

After all, it’s not as if the university will reschedule the annual exams just for one student.

No matter what noble family he hails from.

“Recently, I’ve some investigations that bring me around the university sometimes.” Dantevius continues the conversations amiably, a pleasant expression on his face. Although, he also looks somewhat imploring. “I could…”

There’s a brief moment of silence. Glances are exchanged between family members, but none of them quite look at Alesseo. The youngest looks rather awkward, even.

Dantevius coughs to clear his throat. “I was wondering if it wouldn’t be too rude of me to, ah, stop by?”

Alesseo looks at him, confused.

“And… visit?” Dantevius isn’t looking at him. His gaze is a mask of politeness aimed toward the far wall.

Beside him, the eldest son is looking a little bit annoyed now.

“A few times?”

Alesseo isn’t sure how to respond?

“Ahem. Once?”

“Oh.” Alesseo coughs into his fist, eyes returning to his drink. “I don’t think there’s a rule against that.”

There’s another beat of awkward silence. He glances up. Dantevius is staring at him with a rather intense gaze, sharper at the corners than usual.

Oh! It makes sense, actually.

If Dantevius, who is a rather well-known officer of the knights order’s investigation unit, shows up at the university, it would draw a lot of attention. Too much attention would make trying to investigate whatever case he is on that has to do with the university rather difficult.

However…

If Dantevius, who is an older brother of one of the students of the university, dropped by casually to see his younger sibling for a family visit, then it was much more likely he’d be left alone out of politeness. Which would give him easier access to the university, and thus make the investigation go much smoother.

Alesseo nods decisively. Yes, there definitely is a reason that Dantevius Ardizzone was an up-and-coming super star of the Knights Order investigative unit. It wasn’t just because of his looks, he was actually very smart.

“I’m sorry for not inviting you before now.” He says. “I wasn’t aware that you would want to come. But, I wouldn’t mind if you visited, big brother. Whenever you want.”

Assured that he’s made the correct decision, Alesseo mentally pats himself on the back and finally digs into his meal.

He’s too busy eating to notice the contemplative frown that has made its way onto Dantevius’ face.

[fuckingfinwions]

Elrond hadn't believed it at first. Not that he thought Celebrian was lying to him, but the claims were so extreme, and she had been so disturbed when she left. If no one in Tirion had helped her heal, and therefore had not let her leave the city for fear she'd be in danger - well, it was terrible, but it would explain a lot.

That thought was thoroughly disabused when he went to visit Celebrimbor's room, and found Gil-Galad gagged and tied to the wall naked. Celebrimbor had simply said that he knew Gil-Galad and Elrond had a lot to catch up on, but he was busy now, and his own plans would take another day or two. "I'll send him straight to your quarters when I'm done though, so my uncles don't delay him. They're generally more interested in their own generation, but he is awfully beautiful, and Maedhros sometimes has feelings on the War of Wrath to work out."

That had been the most awkward lunch with Gil-Galad that Elrond could remember, including the one where Elrond had just returned from two centuries in Numenor pretending to be his one great-great-great-nephew.

But after a few months, Elrond was used to the type of conversation that might happen at lunch or around a card table in the palace. He didn't like it, but could see no way to change it. If it had been only the chance of his own disinheritance he risked, Elrond would have spoken up, and even fought. But with Celebrian's safety dependent on her being more Maglor's daughter-in-law than Finarfin's granddaughter, and their sons due to arrive in the middle of this mess with no way to warn them, he stayed silent.

Elrond was trying not to tally up how many members of Finwe's house he saw each day, but still there was one whose absence was conspicuous. Last week Fingon had been sitting next to Maedhros even as Elrond's wife sat next to him, somewhat more quiet and subdued than the stories said, but answering questions and generally treated like another noble rather than a page or a servant. The last three days, Fingon was nowhere to be found, and Maedhros was in a foul mood.

Celegorm was apparently tired of the king glaring at him. "Look, I'm sorry I broke his leg! I wasn't trying to mess with your things, I was just trying to hold him still."

"And yet, you've never 'accidentally' broken any of the other page's legs."

"None of the rest of them try to get away. And the rest of his body is fine, you don't need to act like I've blue-balled you."

"You're supposed to be a skilled fighter, can you really not subdue one opponent without serious injury? And also I can't believe that you really think it makes no difference if your sexual partner is unable to walk, stand, or kneel for you."

"I did nothing that won't heal! And most opponents I'm not fighting naked, I'd love to see you do better."

Elrond broke into the argument, "Pardon me, but is this about why Fingon wasn't down to dinner yesterday? I'd be happy to take a look at him as a healer."

Maedhros: "That would be wonderful, thank you. The injury is only indirectly why he's not at dinner, but it would be far more convenient."

"Can I ask what you mean be indirectly?"

Celegorm said, "He means Fingon's staying locked in his room until he pouts enough to persuade Maedhros to let him out for another year."

Maedhros glared. "I'm sure that's very illuminating to Elrond."

Curufin looked up from his scone and rolled his eyes. "If we're being illuminating to Elrond, let me try. Maedhros generally keeps Fingon to himself, as you've seen. A few times a yen, Fingon decides that the way we've been treating him is evil, or that Maedhros is corrupted by Morgoth, or that his grandmother will declare war for the sake of his family if only she knew, and tries to run away. The palace guards always stop him and bring him back, usually before he even reaches the city. Maedhros lets all the rest of us take a turn to remind Fingon of his place - you weren't offered a chance because you've been so solely obsessed with Celebrian. Fingon will spend a few months or years staying in Maedhros's room, then a few years only allowed out chained to Maedhros like a dog on a leash. Then Maedhros will get soft-hearted, and say Fingon's been behaving so nicely, and he'll sit nicely at the table. And in not too long, Fingon will try again."

"Curvo, that was wholly unnecessary to say."

"Why? If Elrond is family, it's relevant news about his household, not gossip."

"I am the king, and how I treat my consort is no one's decision but my own. I didn't ask for advice on how to keep Fingon from doing stupid stunts, so don't interfere."

"If I was interfering, you would know it."

__

Elrond went into the room to assess his patient. Maedhros had explained that Fingon was receiving basic medic's care, with a splint and such, but had not seen a proper healer. "He's in a dark mood, but no less charming for that. If he persuaded someone to try and help him leave... Besides, most healers look into the mind to fully understand what ails the body, and I'd rather not have my sex life seen by strangers."

"Trust me uncle Maedhros, I have no desire to snoop on that side of you. I do intend to fix as much wrong with his body as I can."

"That's very kind Elrond, but please don't tire yourself out. And make sure he's always cuffed to the bed - given he tried to leave so recently, I'd hate to have him leap for the window and re-injure himself."

"Certainly."

Maedhros had offered to stay in the room, but Elrond had said it was unnecessary, and ruling a kingdom was a very time consuming task (even if both your nearest neighbors rarely sent diplomats).

Fingon was lying on his back with his right arm and leg chained to the bed posts. There was a sheet pulled up to his waist, but even so Elrond could see the odd lumps of the bandages and splint on Fingon's lower leg.

Elrond reached over and pulled the sheet down.

"What do you think you're doing?" Fingon pulled the sheet up with his one free hand.

"I need a closer look in order to do this properly."

"You missed your chance to run a train on my ass, you don't need to stare at my cock."

"I suppose you might not get much of the gossip. I'm accounted the greatest healer of my Age, and I told Maedhros I'd take a look at your leg. I assure you, I have no interest in your sexual prowess or equipment."

"Fine." Fingon let go, but didn't take his eyes off Elrond for a second. "Are you really comfortable supporting this?"

"I am a healer, and will help the patient in front of me. How you got here, or if you will just end up here again next week, should be discussed when you're a bit more recovered."

"Even if you're helping my torturer as much as me?"

"If you don't want me to heal you, I will leave. I don't help anyone who wishes to die, or to heal the slow way instead, though I admit I have fixed those on death's door before stopping to ask them. It's an easy enough mistake to fix, at least."

Fingon's leg had been set properly, and Elrond only needed to whisper briefly to the tibia for it to settle properly within the leg muscles. He could do more to speed the healing, but he decided to check for other injuries first that might need attention more urgently. Elrond replaced the splint and the bandages wrapped to keep it in place.

"Roll over now, please."

"No."

"If your leg is getting in the way, I can help turn you the rest of the way if you give me your hand."

"I'm not going to turn my back on any Feanorians, even if you are Turgon's grandson."

"I'm not. But I want to check for other injuries, and I suspect your asshole might be irritated."

"Yes, from being raped by seven people in a row. Why should I let you near my ass?"

"As I've assured you before, I'm a healer."

"Still not happening."

"I must insist then on a verbal list of symptoms. First, do you have any cuts or scrapes on your back?"

Fingon sighed, but said. "No."

"Have you noticed any blood on the sheets?"

"Not after the first few hours."

"Hmm, hard to say what that indicates. Have you noticed blood in your stool?"

"I haven't been shitting because I haven't eaten in the last three days."

Elrond was taken aback. "That will certainty delay your healing. Is this a specific order of Maedhros's?"

"Not that he's told me, but he hasn't brought me anything either."

"That's easy enough to fix." Elrond rummaged in his bag, and pulled out a leaf wrapped bundle. "Have you been drinking water, by the way?"

"Yes. The servants refill the pitcher when they come by to tend the fire." Fingon took the item from Elrond and unwrapped it, but didn't eat it. "This isn't lembas."

"No, it's not. It's a mixture of rice, apples, and sugar designed to be edible to even the most upset digestive system."

"Nothing's wrong with my belly."

"Sure, after three days of no food and possible internal bleeding."

"I'm not still bleeding from their rape, I know what that feels like. But why not lembas, are you afraid it will burn your hands like the Silmarils?"

"I've never held a Silmaril and have no desire to do so, and find lembas perfectly edible. I've grown tired of asking for it from my mother-in-law though, and their are some who find it unpalatable. I've had orcs turn on their masters before, and they're generally in a poor state by the time I find them. Now, eat."

Fingon did so. "You realize that this means I'll have to shit sooner or later, and combining that with urine in the bed pan will smell rank."

"I'll ask Maedhros if you can be escorted to the lavatory. If not, either deal with the smell or shit on the floor. Do NOT shit in the sheets, it will not only irritate any wounds you're hiding, but may cause sores in itself."

"This isn't my first time being injured, you know."

"It amazes me what people manage to forget for basic medical care. Now, if you are comfortable with it I am going to speed the healing of your leg. I will use mostly my own energy, but you will feel drowsy afterwards."

"I'm going to be tied to this bed for the next month whether or not my leg is hale, but it would be nice to be able to move it without pain."

"So you are agreeing to let me heal you?"

"Yes, get on with it. Your conscience can be clear that you have a slave's permission to fix his wounds, even if you will do nothing to free me."

"Your relationship with Maedhros is certainly not the relationship I have with my wife, or what I'd do if she asked to leave me, but I don't know if I'd call it slavery. And of course the circumstances are very different."

Fingon lay back on the pillow and closed his eyes, clearly wishing to be done with the conversation.

Elrond leaned over Fingon's leg and hummed. Some healers had memorized chants for every different malady, but Elrond preferred wordless melodies. He let the notes drift until they became dissonant and jagged as bone scraping against bone, then brought the tune back to something more harmonious, the abrupt highs and lows becoming swift runs up and down the scale, earlier rhythms that stopped halfway complete being repeated as whole motifs. He let his hand rest on Fingon's knee as he did so, not touching the injury directly but reminding his power what the song reflected.

Eventually, Elrond drew the song to a close, the last notes dropping like pebbles into a still pool. Fingon's leg was healed completely, such that even another healer would be unable to see where the break had been. Elrond set himself to unwinding the bandages and splint once more.

Fingon said, "You would be amazing to have by my side in battle."

"Thank you, but I'm not interested in fighting."

"Of course not, you're too happy of a lapdog."

"Sleep now, and let your body adjust to the healing." Elrond picked up his bag and left Fingon's room.

[rayshippouuchiha]

Okay so, feel free to not answer this one, it's,, kinda heavy, i think? and a bit long. also, sorry about just dropping this here, it's just been weighting on me for at least a couple of years?

So, i'm 21, and like, a big lurker in fandom spaces, and with the ships I ship I sometimes see the "these kind of ships are only okay if you're a csa survivor" stuff, which,, bullshit, but always makes me go "is that,, me? does what happened to me count?" and like, i'm aware that just needing to ask that probably means the answer to that is yes, but I've always shied from thinking about myself that way? The term survivor feels heavy, i guess, like it needs to cross a threshold before the thing counts? Which, logically I know is not how that works, but still

It was just like, this one time I was staying at my great aunt's with my parents for like the 1000th time, I loved going over there, she and her husband had dogs and we'd have breakfast together and hang out doing stuff in the garden. But then this one time when I was like,, 13?? I was pretending to be asleep to read fanfic under the covers after bedtime (I was sleeping in a pullout couch in the living room) and my aunt's husband,, kinda groped me? I don't think he realized I was awake, but I froze and just did my best to pull away quietly and then he stopped and left, and I just,, never mentioned it to anyone in my family because I didn't want anyone to fight?? I've been very nervous about raised voices since I was little

After the fact we just left and anytime my parents mentioned visiting I'd try my best to get out of it, by coming up with like reports or homework I had to do over the weekend, and if I couldn't get out of going I'd just stay put in the room I usually slept in or go out with my parents just to have minimum contact with my uncle, which meant like, hugging him hello and goodbye when we got there and when we left, and sometimes accompanying him to gather wood for the fireplace

Anyways, for unrelated motives my parents and I moved to another entire continent right after I turned 16, and then a while later he got sick and died, and hearing everyone lamenting his death and saying that he was such a good man stung like a bitch, even though I*know* i specifically didn't mention it to anyone in my family to avoid any tension. Sometimes I wish I did say something? But like, we moved away *and* he's dead and nobody's even mentioned him in a long time so I don't really see the point? It's a weird thing, and I don't want my parents to ask why I didn't say anything earlier bc they'd get sad, i think

I do have a couple of people to talk to. My friends have gotten really angry on my behalf a few times now, and I love them. Still, it's a weird thing where I don't really want to think about it but also I know it's a thing that really affected me? Still, the term 'csa survivor' feels like it should go for,, heavier things, worse things

Sorry again for just,, dropping this here, just.. talking about it helps a bit, i think?

Oh darling this is a heavy one indeed.

Look, I'm going to be real with you.

What you feel about this uncle is valid. It doesn't matter that it was only once, it doesn't matter that it was "just a grope", it doesn't matter that it didn't progress, it doesn't matter that you were able to avoid him afterward.

He assaulted you. Point blank. He was an adult family member you should have been able to trust and he touched you in a way he should have never even thought to touch you.

I am so grateful that it never progressed, that you were able to stay away from him as much as possible and that he never touched you like that again but the fact remains that you should have never had to deal with that. The burden, the fear, of that kind of thing should have never been placed on you. He broke a trust with you and in you that could never be replaced and that is and will always be on him.

The title of survivor does feel heavy and I can understand why you wouldn't feel comfortable carrying it. In the end that's your choice and your choice is and should always be what matters most.

I also understand being reluctant to tell your parents, especially since he's dead now. I do have to ask if there were any other children or teenagers he might have also attempted to prey on besides you?

Either way I'm glad you have a support system, I'm glad you have friends you can talk to about it.

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Chapter 3 "The Escape from Silence."

Word count: 5,493

Harry x Anastasia || Fanfic series

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The morning of Royal Ascot has been quite chaotic, with everyone scrambling to change dresses and rotate carriages. Harry, in particular, has been struggling as the event always tests his ability to handle change. He dislikes the Royal Ascot for a good reason - every public outing requires him to be familiar with revised plans, every entry, exit, and even underground area. He must know every detail like the back of his hand and remain on high alert throughout the event. Even a slight change to one plan can send security into a frenzy of anxiety.

The event is planned down to every minute detail, including when and where the carriages arrive and how long they spend greeting people. With over 300,000 people visiting Berkshire during Royal Ascot week, it is difficult for Harry to keep track of everything. However, he manages to make things work every year, along with the rest of the security team.

I'm not much of a fan of the horse races in the aspect of having to be a Royal and treat this as an event, There are eyes always on me and I still have to act in a certain manner. I can thank Queen Anne for turning horse races into a royal activity. Ascot Racecourse was founded in 1711 by and ever since has been a major event that royals attend.

The Royal enclosure, however, is quite lovely. The Royal Enclosure was built in 1822 when King George IV commissioned a two-storey stand to be built with the surrounding lawn. This was designated an exclusive area with access strictly by invitation of the King. To this day, membership to the Royal Enclosure continues to be by invitation only. Every individual who has a membership and will be in the Enclosure is monitored and a background check is thoroughly run.

Harry knows of every person who will be in the enclosure and he has to watch their behaviour. He hates it just as much as he hates being out in the public areas, but the good thing is that being invited to the Royal Enclosure is hard. To get in without a direct invitation, one must sign up, which is easy, but the hard part is providing letters of recommendation from two existing Royal Enclosure members who have themselves been members in good standing for a minimum of four years— this is where Harry's job gets a little easier, for the most part, new entries don't happen often. The only thing Harry enjoys about this event has nothing to do with the horses, he isn't formally allowed to bet since he is on duty, but he likes to bet on the colour of Her Majesty's hat. It is a tradition that people bet on what colour they believe my mother will wear, and it is such a big deal that not even I know what colour my mother's hat is until I see her in the morning and sometimes she will change hats before arriving at the venue.

The enclosure is bustling, with royals and guests floating around, drinking champagne and acting high on life without a care in the world. I stand towards the back, a glass of champagne in my hand, a rented prince to my left and my love to the right. I take a sip of the bubbly champagne, pretending to enjoy its company— I now see why my mother chooses martinis. "Anastasia, don't you think you should mingle and entertain these guests?" Syrus asks as he smiles towards my guests.

"Did you want me to do party tricks or take my clothes off? You should elaborate," I respond.

Syrus cocks his head to the side, "Why are you so defiant?"

"Because I don't want to be Queen with you, my father, and parliament condemning me. I'm not a puppy you can put on a leash," I assert, trying to hold my ground.

"That's debatable," Syrus replies, his voice low and menacing as he steps closer, eliminating the small gap between us. His presence feels oppressive, the air around him charged with a palpable threat. "Do not make a mockery of this family," he warns, his eyes dark and intense, hinting at the danger that lurks beneath his composed exterior. "You might be quieter on a leash."

"Or what? What are you going to do?"

Syrus's eyes narrow dangerously, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that feels almost physical. "Or I will dismantle everything you hold dear, piece by piece," he murmurs, his voice cold and steady, his eyes flickering between myself and Harry. "You will find yourself isolated, powerless, and forgotten. Remember, I live to play dangerous games." His threat hangs in the air, a dark promise that sends chills down my spine. His tone leaves no room for argument, painting him as a man who is not just dangerous, but also not to be tested.

A warm arm gently encircles my waist, and I feel a protective presence as Harry steps in, creating a barrier between Syrus and me. My heart pounds against my chest. "It's okay, go," Harry murmurs, nudging me to step back. He immediately takes my place, now standing toe-to-toe with Syrus, "I believe the King is motioning for you," Harry flicks his head, defusing the scene, not allowing Syrus to give any sort of reaction before I step away, deciding to escape the moment and find solace elsewhere.

***

I feel a droplet of rain grace my skin, I look up and notice the ominous clouds forming over us, making their way across the sky in a swift manner. I open my umbrella and I step off the gravel path. I walk along the grass, attempting to reach the very edge of the fence where some of the horses are just now starting to make their way to the stables.

I carry the umbrella over my head, the rain coming down heavily, patting the umbrella brutally but creating a moderately calming tone. This is certain to create an early departure for me or a rain delay in the Royal enclosure.

I watch as a figure walks closer to me, holding his Umbrella as a pair of blue eyes meet with mine. Niall's eyes twinkle mischievously as he observes the rain falling around us. "Most women are sipping champagne and here you are, in the rain," he remarks with a playful smile.

I can't help but chuckle at his comment. "I'm not much of a champagne girl," I reply, shaking my head.

Niall's smile widens as he leans closer. "I picked you to be more of a rum girl," he says, his voice filled with intrigue.

I nod, a sly grin forming on my lips. "Correct," I affirm, enjoying the playful banter between us.

I welcome a hand press over mine, "Allow me," Niall instructs, taking the umbrella from my hand. "A princess doesn't hold her own Umbrella." Niall holds the umbrella over me while he stands, holding both umbrellas to shield me from the intense rain.

Niall is the epitome of royalty, with his flowing blond locks and mesmerizing blue eyes. His calm and composed nature added an air of elegance to his presence, making him the perfect embodiment of a prince. Whether he was engaging in conversation or simply observing the world around him, Niall's quiet and poised demeanour never fails to captivate those around him.

Niall's family's historical connection to a once-reigning Irish monarchy is what started his title. Through generations of noble bloodlines and ancestral ties, Niall carries the title of prince as a symbol of his regal lineage. His royal heritage adds an intriguing layer to his character.

Niall's mother is from Ireland and her family was once in the reigning monarchy, and his father is a prince in the Netherlands.

"Charming," I smile.

"Always," he nods, "You know, you're supposed to be inside."

"Mhm," I hum, "I'm supposed to be in many places but I escaped the deadly silence." ... "Pulled in directions that have no end. There is no light at the end of this tunnel, may as well jump off the train before it gets too dark."

"Oh, such a tortured poet," Niall chuckles, "You should dabble into writing."

I roll my eyes at the comment. There is a part of me that wonders if there is a life for me outside of royalty and if there was a hypothetical life, what would I do with it? The possibilities are endless. Perhaps being a writer and weaving intricate tapestries of prose and poetry would be a wave of emotion I would enjoy. To lose myself in the rhythm of my own words to captivate an audience holds contrast and thrill. However, my life doesn't need more thrill, I think there is enough drama in this life— more than one could possibly handle all at once.

"Do you not have something better to do?" I curiously ask, "Drinking? Smoking a Cigar? Doing all things a Prince isn't supposed to do at events?" I continue with a slight chuckle. He may be the perfect embodiment of a prince in the way he talks, treats others, etcetera. However, his after-hours activities are far from after-hours. He flies under the radar and nobody tends to care if the Prince is drunk by noon at an event, of course, he holds himself well when intoxicated. Nobody cares to give him press interviews, nobody cares what he wears and what he does— it must be a wonderful quality to possess in this life— One of which I desire to have the luxury of ever so deeply.

I turn back around and continue walking, the rain coming down heavily on us while we make our way closer to where the horses are stationed and unwinding before they are transported to their stables.

"Your security guard took my cigars," Niall mutters, "Your Father is running around like a chook with his head cut off because he can't find you and your security guard is amused by it. Your Uncle is being your Uncle, a menace. So, here I am, walking in the rain to escape the chaos your disappearance has caused."

"Mmm, I am sure it quite a mystery where I am," I roll my eyes, "Perhaps if a monarchy wasn't shoved down my throat and my father's drastic need to present to me a Prince, I may not be walking down here." ... "It is starting to sound like Syrus wants the crown more and more each day."

"Mhm," Niall hums in a quiet agreement. "A Prince who seems to have left you," Niall points out. We all know this was a PR stunt, organised by my Father who is more interested in complying with the monarchy than stepping back and taking a look at the bigger picture. This monarchy isn't good for anything besides destroying those involved within it. Whether he wants to admit it or not, PR will not stitch his quilt back together, it will be nothing but broken patches and stripped thread.

I glance around and nod my head, disappointed my Prince seems to have disappeared and left me in the downpour to combat the media and the crowds on my own. He was here to serve a purpose, not only to show his presence to everyone who wasn't at the garden party but to also draw attention to a new budding romance that could turn into more. My father needs the media to spark its attention towards us— the monarch is ready to change— my father wants to hand over the reins and pass down the crown but he can't do so unless the public is on his side and approves of not only me as the queen but my partner.

"That Prince doesn't want this any more than you, Anna," Niall points out, "He is going to rebuttal. He knows this isn't what you want. He sent me to find you."

I shrug my shoulders, "He could grow a set and just turn down the offer of being the handbag on my arm." ... "Instead, I am walking alone."

"And somehow she acts like I am not here holding an umbrella for her," Niall chuckles. "I am sorry I am not a handbag but I believe that Prince needed the money."

"If you're smart, you will walk away, and very quickly," I gesture my head towards the group of piranhas that are inching closer with their cameras and questions. Niall doesn't deserve to be thrown into this catastrophe.

Niall glances towards the crowd and turns to face me, a small glimpse of empathy dashing through his bright eyes, "Never been the brightest. Maybe the attention will be fun." Niall half smiles at me. Contrary to his words, he is a very intelligent man.

"Princess, Princess!!! Anastasia!" My name is thrown around and flashes begin to blind me, a sudden burst of reporters grappling for the best photo and media headline swarming me. I tilt my head down and allow my hat to cover my face, the sound of the rain tapping the umbrella getting heavier with each moment. They're relentless today, usually, they swarm and then they leave— not today— today they want every angle, every moment, and every drop of blood they can draw out of me. Part of me believes this is just the start of it, they have tasted blood and they want more, they know there are stories, they know I am up next on the throne, and they know it is coming soon. Fuck me.

"Please, make it stop," I tug Niall's arm. I'm not allowed to raise my voice towards the media or announce my discomfort. I didn't mean to suddenly fall to the demise of the media and have a weakened moment. I never intended the words to leave my lips and put the strain on him to make it stop.

He hands me the umbrella and stands in front of me, "We are trying to get her out of the rain, so please be kind and move," Niall speaks loud enough to be heard but keeps his voice contained and charmed. He lets out a heavy sigh and clears his throat, "Are you not capable of leaving someone the fuck alone?" Niall questions, "Take a step back!" He orders, trying to take control of the situation.

"Don't you have security for this?" I question. It's a logical question, all royals at this event have their own security.

"Don't you?" Niall chuckles, "I fly under the radar, nobody cares about me... Except for when I am around you." Niall points out the obvious, "You're like a moth to a flame. Nobody can stay away from you."

I roll my eyes and look back down, avoiding the cameras. "I didn't realise I was hosting a press conference on the sidewalk today," Niall comments, "Don't worry, folks, I will sign autographs as soon as I finish my afternoon stroll and remember my name." Niall begins to speak to the media, catching me off guard. He's unphased by the repercussions of being a smartass to the media.

I guess if you can't beat them, join them.

"Royals aren't allowed to sign autographs," one woman shouts out.

"No shit," Niall responds, "Please, leave us alone."

"Whoever doesn't take two steps back from the prince and Princess will be legally charged by the time I count to three!" Harry's voice takes me by surprise as I see him taking control of the situation, the media, surprisingly listening. "Three!" Harry uses his hands to split the crowd like the Red Sea. "Scurry along, you all know I have the time to charge you all, I have done it before," Harry smiles, gesturing with his hands for the swarm of people to leave. "Especially you," Harry winks towards one reporter, tapping them on the shoulder, "Go," his voice is deep and resonates like bottles of thunder. It's almost enough to scare me.

"Prince," Harry nods his head towards Niall, returning with a smile.

Niall chuckles and playfully shoves Harry's shoulder, "Ass hole," Niall mutters, the two of them catching me off guard. They're acting like friends.

"You two know each other?" I softly question while the rest of our security team takes control of the media.

Harry nods his head, "We uh, so fun fact," Harry begins, "We play poker and smoke cigars once a month with a few other mates." ... "Niall, you are not meant to be here."

"We've also gotten drunk quite a few times," Niall smiles. "Neither is Anna."

"He's far from your typical Prince," Harry informs me, "Now, I need to get you home." Harry takes his phone out and makes the calls he needs to ensure everything is for me to leave promptly and without issues, slowly walking us past the huddles of paparazzi and eager photographers who stayed at a legal distance.

Harry escorts me to a blacked-out car with his head of security waiting by the car with an umbrella. Whenever the head of security is waiting for me, it means Harry is handing me off. There is a good chance I am in some sort of trouble. A princess should never wander off on her own. Boring.

"Matthew will take you to the Palace," Harry informs me as I step under the head of security's umbrella, allowing Harry to finally hold the umbrella over his head despite the fact he is already soaked, his hair is damp and droplets are falling from his soft curls, his white shirt has become slightly see-through I can see the slight outline of his abs as the shirt clings to his body.

"Why?"

"He needs to escort Niall, Plus, you said you preferred my service better, I am not as stiff as Harry," Matthew lightens the mood with a small joke, finally forcing a small chuckle to escape my lips.

"Finally, she smiles," Harry grins, "I will come past your quarters when I get done."

"Get in the car. Let's get you home," Harry opens the door, returning to bodyguard mode and gesturing for me to get in the car.

I get into the car with ease and I rest back against the leather seats.

I view Harry and Matthew talk outside and I watch them intently for a moment, curious as to what they are discussing. I can only assume most of their conversation right now will revolve around me.

As Matthew gets in the driver's seat of the car, I watch Harry walk off into the distance before the car begins to move. I stare out the window, watching the droplets of rain slide down.

I lean my head against the window and close my eyes for a moment but I am quickly distracted by the sound of Matthew's voice. "He loves you, you know?"

"Harry?" I question, "Did he put you up to this conversation that is about to take place?"

Questioning his love has never been an issue, questioning mine is, but not in the conventional way. He doesn't deserve to be dragged into this life with me, he deserves a simple life without hassle. I love him, but I

Matthew chuckles as he looks in his rearview mirror at me, "Am I talking to the Princess or?"

"This is off the record. I am off royal duty." I respond, assuring Matthew that whatever is said in the car will stay in the car.

For the most part, conversations between Harry and Matthew are generally off the record. Sometimes they are the only times I get to feel a sense of normality. Everyone else treats me like a princess and always wants to discuss politics, royal duties etc.

"He'd do anything for you, all you have to do is say the word."

Burn it down and end it all. Physically the monarchy burning from the outside, turning to soot will not do me any justice, but destroying it from the inside out— now that, that might be worth my sanity.

"I know," I nod, "Oh, how I know," I sigh, closing my eyes as I lean against the window, taking the quietness in.

As I watch the rain cascade down the window, the streets of London blur into a watery canvas. The sound of tires splashing through puddles creates a symphony of melancholy. Lost in my thoughts, I find solace in the rain's gentle rhythm, its ability to wash away the chaos of the world. But amidst the calm, a storm brews within me. How can I navigate the treacherous waters of royalty? The weight of expectations weighs heavily on my shoulders, threatening to drown me in uncertainty. But I refuse to let it consume me. I will find my way, even if it means forging a path no one else has taken. In this moment, as the rain washes away the city's grime, I am reminded that I too can cleanse my soul and discover my way.

As I sit in the car looking out the window at the stone steps of the palace, dark clouds loom overhead, casting a sombre tone to the scene. The heavy rain pours down relentlessly, adding an air of mystery and drama to the surroundings. The palace, with its majestic architecture, stands tall and resilient against the elements. The rainwater cascades down the walls, tracing intricate patterns along the stone facade. The sound of raindrops hitting the ground echoes through the courtyard, creating a symphony of nature's melancholy. Despite the gloomy atmosphere, there is an undeniable beauty in the way the rain intensifies the colours of the palace, making it seem even more enchanting.

I force the car door open and I make my way up the wet steps of the palace, the rain pours down relentlessly, drenching me to the bone. Hurrying, I try to shield myself from the downpour, but it's no use. Each step feels heavier than the last, and the water seeps into every crevice of my clothing. Despite the discomfort, I push forward, my determination driving me to seek refuge within the grand entrance. The echoing sound of my footsteps against the marble floor reminds me of the weight of my worries. I brush off the raindrops clinging to my coat, their shimmering presence a stark contrast to the gloomy weather.

As I make my way into the palace, the anticipation of facing my father's wrath gnaws at me. I despise the thought of disappointing him by not fulfilling my duties. The weight of his expectations feels suffocating, like an unrelenting storm brewing inside me. I'll gather my courage, face him head-on, and explain my choices. I am determined to assert my independence and find a way to navigate my path, even in the face of his disapproval.

The moment I enter the palace foyer, my world is turned upside down and my Father pounces on me like a lion on its weak prey.

My father is a great man, for the most part, but when he is angry, he is furious. He can't always control his temper and that is something the public does not know. The public only sees the lower side of his temper, they see the relatively calm and collected King. I, on the other hand, get to witness the King at his full capacity of anger and it is far from fun. My father can be relentless, he is like a dog with a bone, which is why he is so good at making foreign deals and running a monarchy, he does not take no for an answer, nor does he take shit from people. Of course, he handles himself in a royal matter but with a hint of dominance.

My father wastes no time by laying into me, "How many stunts do you anticipate to pull off?" My father questions, his eyes narrowed to crinkled slits, his crimson with fury as he stares me down.

My lips screw into irritation and I take a moment to come to terms with the fact that the King is yelling at me in front of the staff just as I have managed to walk into the palace. "What?"

"Anastasia, I expected more from you."

"Excuse me?" I challenge with a raised brow.

"I raised you better."

My brows bump together in a scowl, my body stiffening at the words my father speaks. He didn't raise me better, he raised me to be a pawn in the Game of Thrones.

"Have you scooped that low? Is the monarch's rules so important to Syrus that you are willing to act like this— like him?" ... "If this is what you call raising, we have different definitions of raising."

The monarchy will always come first in his eyes— it will always twist and turn, heaping my life into a whirlwind of turmoil and vulnerability. I can't escape the grasp of the government and the power, I can't escape the life he has forced me into— I can't escape from myself.

"You're the one who has forced me to this extent. You won't cooperate"

I shake my head, no longer wanting to continue the nightly conversation. "Excuse me, I am going to bed before this turns into more of an argument." I step around my father and begin to make my way to the staircase.

"Stop right there!" Syrus sneers towards me storming into the foyer.

I turn around, facing my Uncle as Harry steps into the foyer, "Oh, boy," he mutters under his breath. "I was just locking the door," Harry half smiles, walking across the foyer to lock the doors. His presence doesn't stop my father from the conversation he is determined to continue.

"You, a patchwork heir of convenience, dare to tread where only true blood should rule? You're nothing but a living insult to the crown." His voice is loud and full of anger.

His words hit me like a shockwave, leaving me stunned and confused. My father, who has never raised his voice at me before, is now allowing his brother to shout with such intensity. It makes me want to shrink away, feeling powerless against his anger. But there is another part of me that refuses to back down, a fire within me that urges me to stand up for myself, even in the face of adversity. "You will not make things any worse for this monarchy. It isn't hard to fucking comply and be a quiet fucking Queen."

I want to fight, but I can't. I'm statue-like as I blink. Did he just reference me as becoming a quiet Queen? Is he wanting me to become submissive with all duties and allow this monarchy to ruin all of us?

I think it is time it burns to the ground— I don't mean metaphorically— I mean literally. Burn it, piece by piece, pillar by pillar. Let the smoke fill the air and the prying eyes of the people watch on. I would rather my hands be covered in soot than be left silenced like my mother.

"I'd rather burn it than be silenced," I retort, my voice defiant as I watch my uncle's face contort with rage. His eye twitches uncontrollably, his jaw clenched so tightly I can almost hear his teeth grind. A vein throbs dangerously on his forehead, a testament to the storm brewing within him. I've ignited a fire I never knew he harboured.

"Don't you dare even think about destroying it," he seethes, his voice a terrifying crescendo of fury. He steps closer to me, allowing barely any space to creep between us as a breath hitches in my throat. "We have sacrificed too damn much, sweated blood and tears — and you think you can just tear it all apart with your selfish whims? Not while I'm breathing!" His words crack through the air like a whip, his rage is noticeable, filling the room with an electric charge that sends shivers down my spine. This isn't just anger; it's something primal, a deep, seething wrath that I've unwittingly unleashed. Oops. "Mark my words, your reign will be a brief and tragic footnote in the history of our great kingdom. I will see to that."

"That's enough," Harry steps in, placing himself between my Uncle and me, forcing my Father to take a step forward. I watch as he gestures towards the staff, reminding them to focus on their duties. "And you all," Harry nods politely towards the gathered staff, "Please continue with your work." His head turns towards my Uncle who is still seething. "Don't—" He forwarns as my Father steps forward and goes to speak. A small smirk dances across my face as I eye the back of his white shirt, the outline of his flexed muscles showing subtly.

Who would have thought anyone would stand in front of the King and his brother and forewarn him?

"You will not keep yelling at her."

"And who are you?" Syrus snips, his eyes dark with fury.

"The man who will slit your throat without remorse, don't raise your voice and treat her like a rag doll," Harry warns, staring back at Syrus with heavy eyes. Syrus met his match.

Then, Harry's attention turns to me as he turns to face me. "Anna, let's try to calm down," he says, shaking his head disapprovingly. I can't help but feel a sense of admiration for how he takes control of the situation. I'm mildly turned on by this side of him.

I go to speak but Harry interrupts, "Don't be mouthy with me."

I raise a brow with a raised smirk, eager to push his buttons and do the opposite of what he's requesting, but I recompose myself when I notice the look in his eyes. He's not angry, he's not trying to be intimidating, he's genuinely tired and trying to dissolve the distance between myself and my father. He isn't the villain here.

I nod my head towards Harry, and my father takes a deep breath, "Okay," he inhales in an attempt to keep himself composed, "Syrus, I can handle this, you can leave," he dismisses his brother, seeming to be a coward in my eyes for allowing his brother to raise his voice at me. My Father waits for Syus to walk out and the door slams behind him before he speaks, "Anastasia, I need you to pick a man, and stick with it. I don't care if it's just for media propaganda, pick," my father instructs, rubbing the corners of his eyes, "I'm not telling you to sleep with them, for Christ sake." His voice is finally low.

"You sure?" I question, crossing my arms over my chest. "Harry, want to weigh in?" I smile.

"Leave me out of this," Harry shakes his head disapprovingly. "I'm here to make sure you don't kill each other."

My father glares at me, "Anna, for the sake of my fucking sanity, choose." ... "You're making it difficult to remain calm. I need you to do this."

He is determined to have the throne accompanied by a man as though I am a weak girl who can't do anything without a man by her side.

"I don't understand why you are so determined to fulfil the requirements of me having a Prince. But fine," I heavily sigh, "I choose Niall."

"Niall," My father hums, "Niall?" He's confused.

"Yes, blond and blue-eyed."

"The one at the bottom of the chain?" my father huffs, "The one who hosts poker nights with Harry over there?" My father flicks his head towards Harry. "Ireland doesn't have a monarchy. They have a parliamentary democracy with a president as the head of state. He's not exactly a prince, I don't think it will be allowed."

I shake my head. "His father is a prince of the Netherlands so he has a title there as well," I remind my father. "Hey, does it matter as long as it's for publicity?" I question. "An alliance of convenience, just what you requested."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Harry comments, "It'll intrude on my poker nights," Harry continues, causing the king to roll his eyes and somewhat chuckle.

"The two of you aren't slick," my father gestures between Harry and me. "I know what's going on."

Harry lifts his shoulders into a careless shrug, "You know I'm about to go smoke a cigar on the balcony and drink whiskey?" Harry questions.

"I am not giving you a title."

Harry chuckles, "Believe me, I do not want one. Now, I am going to go to the balcony."

The king nods with a defeated sigh, "May I join you?" My father's voice becomes soft, finally.

"Depends, as an asshole King or as a normal person, Alaric?" Harry boldly asks.

My father looks at me, "We can finish this tomorrow. Harry, do you have the cigars?" My father questions Harry, the sudden change in everyone's tone and conversation taking me by surprise.

The two of them smoking cigars together is unsettling.

Harry smirks and nods his head, leading them both away towards the steps to the hidden balcony. 

[optimisticstudentangel]

Love letter

No warning. Only fluff

First days in RAD. You've met the prince of the Devildom, and seven lords that helped him. You were anxious for a long period of time, not even being capable to breathe without worry.

Some low-level demons tried to pick several fights with you, but luckily there was always someone to help you.

Demon brothers never let you go alone anywhere, just to be sure for your safety. Even though first weeks their attitude was cold and rude towards you, after time passed you eventually became really close to each other.

Even Lucifer saw you as a family member, which you didn't expect, but that was really flattering to say the least.

When it came to romance though...

There was special someone, you wanted to have connection with.

He is handsome and gentle being, with a pure heart.

You were surrounded with hot and seductive demons, but your eyes were glued only to one person... To one angel.

You remember the hard times, when depressing thoughts haunted you, not giving an opportunity to live calmly.

- I understand you, little lamb. It's not your fault. That does sound pretty bad, to live in hell without your friends and family. If you need help, you can always come to me. It's my duty as an angel to guide and give a hand to a lovely human like you, -he assured that everything is going to be great. And you believed him. How could you not?

And just like that, you developed a friendship, which soon grew into something else.

You two started to see each other more often, to the point that Sunday's were only for the both of you, and no other soul could interrupt your quality time.

Asmo and Solomon made fun of you, for your little crush on the sweet angel. Jokes aside, they tried to give you tips and advice on dating. Which somewhat was kind, and you were grateful for that.

Sometimes Simeon liked to get in that mess too. He would tease you, by pretending your boyfriend. Deep inside you actually wanted it to be true though.

He could have been such a great match for you. Simeon is elegant in every way, he is the most good-natured man you've ever seen in your whole life.

One day you decided that this was enough for you.

It was impossible to just be a close buddy to him, you needed more than that. Your greed for his attention grew every passing day, it prompted you to take a serious action.

You decided that you will confess your feelings to Simeon. But not just by telling him, you wanted to write it on the paper, and give it to his hands.

It was a challenging job, because it felt like no matter what you write, it's not good enough for him. He is an author after all. How will you impress him, when it's his main field.

But you didn't give up, there was no such an option. You tried again and again. Your room was filled with torn scripts, because you couldn't find a satisfaction in your words.

It kept you at night, making you start it from the beginning.

- Maybe I should just keep it simple? Appealing or not, this may be great too. It doesn't matter, I just need to concentrate on my true feelings, and not on beautiful words, - you came to this conclusion. It is better to be heard than to remain silent, simply because you think your confession is not ideal enough.

With new burning passion, words of love naturally came out of you and you scribbled them right away.

After putting your whole heart to this letter, you confidently messaged Simeon to visit you in the house of lamentation.

- Did something urgent happened? I will be there ASAP.

Oh.

It seems like he thinks you're in danger. You decided not to comment on that, because you didn't want to spoil your surprise.

He came quickly panting on your doorway.

- Y/n! Ah, is everything alright? -he looked at you with worried expression.

- Great even! Simeon please come here! - you impatiently took his hand and led him into the room. "There's something I would like to show you. It's really important to me"

- Ok, ok. Little patience, my dear, - he chuckled at your behavior, like a mother to her bouncing child from one place to another. "Whatever it is, I am thrilled just as you are"

- Close your eyes, and open them when I say so! - he did as you told, big smile forming on his lovely face. - Alright! Here it comes, you may open them, - you gifted your love letter, waiting for his reaction.

He blushed and stood there for a minute. "Is this what I think it is? No possible way-"

- Come on, hurry! Read it!

He rushed to open the letter. His eyes darted over the text, and with every second his face became softer and redder. When he finished reading it, he came closer to you, and hugged you tightly.

- I've never read such a beautiful piece! It burned a flame within me. You found the exact words to describe my feelings towards you too. But one thing makes it unfair..... How could you confess your feelings before me? - you laughed awkwardly.

- Then, is it a yes, Simeon?

- Absolutely. I love you so much, only heaven knows it.

He kissed your cheek briefly, and hid the letter in his pocket.

It was not so scary after all.

[hyugahell]

Thoughts about other clans

Thoughts on the other clans that Hiashi cared to remember of Konoha!

Uchiha:

One of the founding clans and nobles of the village. Powerful and prideful clan, deserving of the respect they had! Their only downside was... Fugaku. That idiot.

Hatake:

Now I'm going to pretend Kakashi is a representation of the clan, as I have very little memory of any other members aside from his father. In any case, they're a powerful clan if even his father could rival the three sannin in terms of strength. I'm almost surprised it wasn't considered a noble clan, especially because of Hatake's reputation! Now if only he'd do something about his need to walk around reading a damn porn book. That's the only habit I'm hoping the clan didn't share.

Inuzuka:

Excellent trackers and loyal to their goals, cause, and partners. Although outside of missions, they're incredibly noisy, run around all day, and act like animals when angered. They probably smell just like their ninken from always having those hounds around! Oh, and their leader likes to bite me at any moment she feels like it. I dislike her sometimes.

Aburame:

....They frighten me. They're the most discreet of all the clans, all while having some... ungodly and unsavory capabilities, especially because of those insects they wield. I have never seen the clan collectively angry, as they always keep up such a still, monotone stature. But I always reckon that the day even one is truly angered is the end of times for the village. They are the clan one must always keep an eye on.

Akimichi:

I regard them as the most well meaning, good hearted people of the village. No, really. They're often the first ones to put themselves forward if for the sake of their comrades, especially the Nara and Yamanaka. And visitors are always treated like old family friends. But keep in mind you will not be leaving that clan household hungry, they feed guests a little too well-

Nara:

Some of the most intelligent people there is. Yet somehow also some of the laziest you will meet, with the leader and his son being the worst of them! I cannot fathom how they can live like that.

Yamanaka:

Boast some of the greatest understanding of botany and the human mind, thanks to that signature jutsu of theirs. Now, I don't truly like visiting the clan household itself because the last thing I need is someone probing into my mind or taking control over my body. I would probably drive them mad.

Uzumaki:

I know only two Uzumaki, but both are quite similar: confident, brash, loud, quick to get annoyed, and a large amount of chakra. However the first Uzumaki I knew of had red hair (which she insisted was an Uzumaki trait) yet there's that one I saw at the chunin exams and he had... bright yellow hair. You know, like a highlighter. Also, this kid is about a thousand times more of a crackhead than Kushina ever was! It's concerning.

Sarutobi:

They're...something of a clan, alright. Not much to say about them, really.

Hiashi: I believe that's all the clans of the village.

Hinata: Father, I-I think there's still some other clans you didn't mention.

Hiashi: If I didn't mention them, they weren't important enough to be remembered.

[zablife]

congratulations again babes! 600 is so so amazing! you absolutely deserve it 🥳❤️

for the celebration can i send in a cheeky ☎️ for luca as your professor? that might just me being 🥵🔥 for him but mull it over in your minds isle for a bit 👀 ty!

Professor Luca Changretta (Warning: dark content, abuse of power)

*He always wears perfectly tailored suits to class and you never see a hair out of place. He has impeccable manners and demands his students follow a strict code of conduct as well.

*He is a soft-spoken man who never raises his voice. However, everyone knows his words carry weight. 

*Some people speak in hushed whispers that his family is linked to the mafia, but these are only rumors. Perhaps this is why his classes fill so quickly. 

*Or perhaps it is due to his reputation as a respected member of his field. He has published several important papers which is an impressive feat for someone so young.

*It’s his most recent work that draws you to his lectures, beckoning you to the front row to catch every carefully chosen word that falls from his mouth. You can’t help but stare with puppy dog eyes and pepper him with questions. You worry that perhaps you’re over eager and annoying, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

*From this vantage point you notice his habit of gesturing eloquently with his hands, showing off a multitude of tattoos. Sometimes despite your best efforts to focus on his words, your mind drifts to the significance of the dark ink marking his olive skin. His aura of mystery is intoxicating. 

*One day after class you notice Professor Changretta standing over you as you pack your bag. As you realize you’ve been left alone to suffer his hawk-like stare in silence, you stop all movement like an animal caught in a trap. He smiles slowly as he asks “How do you like America?”

*From that day on he takes an interest in you, knowing exchange students have a difficult time with homesickness. He asks you to dinner in his home with a few other students. Plying you with wine and plenty of personal questions, you wonder if this is typical American curiosity or if you detect something more. 

*He is unusually attentive showing kindness and patience as he offers extra help with your assignments. Sitting close by your side as he helps edit your last paper, his hand brushes yours ever so slightly every time he moves to add a correction and you swear you hear his breath hitch. 

*Other students begin to notice the professor's fondness for you and it provokes their jealousy. After a student called Mark makes unkind comments about you, you notice his absence in class the following week. When you inquire about Mark, you learn he's in hospital with a badly broken leg, although no one knows how it happened.

*Professor Changretta is appalled to learn you don’t have proper attire to wear for your final presentation. “My uncle is the finest tailor in New York,” he boasts. Not wanting to offend him, you allow him to take you there, but insist on paying for the garment. 

*As you change behind the curtain you hear an ominous exchange, "Just like the last young thing he took a liking to, you remember how that ended...such a pity."

*When classes end, you visit your professor one last time to say goodbye. "Goodbye?" he says with an amused smirk. "No, not yet. Seems your final paper was plagiarized so you fail my class. It looks as though you'll be staying in the States with me a little longer while we work this out," he informs you gleefully.

"I don't understand, you advised me on that paper, sir," you say in a shaky voice.

"I did, didn't I?" he says, pretending to remember suddenly. "You know, it's dangerous to be so honest, but I think you'll learn that soon enough." He leans over his desk and takes your face in his hands, kissing you passionately. "Now lock the door, your study sessions start now. You'll come see me every day and do exactly as I say if you want to pass my class this time."

[lotusflowersimagines]

Hey, I saw you do sibling scenarios/sibling content, so..

Could I possibly ask for Emma Magorobi or Xander Matthews sibling headcanons?

Sure anon! I think i'll just do Emma since shes quite a dynamic character to work with, but you can re-request for Xander if you'd like.

So sorry for lack of content to all others who have sent requests, after getting sick recently i've been suffering creative burnout and have been just generally unmotivated. However I have started all of the requests in some way or another and will get to all of them eventually! Thank you for your support and patience!

NOTES: Non-Despair AU, Character/Reader siblings, G/N reader, brief mentions of Emma's past (its nothing serious though), VOID has a 'found family' relationship in a way

~ Emma Magorobi w/ a sibling! (HC's)

You and Emma most definitely have a close relationship, no matter the dynamic you two share or in general just how different you are from eachother

At the end of the day, she's just happy to have a sibling and she'd never have it any other way, whether you were with her in the darkest times of her earlier life or through the new family shes come to know and love; you mean so much to her!

I can see her looking after you a lot, like if you forgot something at home on your way to school, she'll make sure to have a replacement for that thing or takes it and gives it to you if she notices you not having taken it yourself

Sometimes you jokingly call HER 'mom' or 'grandma em' because of the way she acts/dresses; she pretends to hate it but actually thinks its a little funny

Speaking of jokes you can't convince me Emma isn't a memer, she sends you dumb things she found on pinterest or old vine compilations and references them constantly, even if only to get a reaction out of you

She means no harm of course, but teasing you is just too funny! She can't help it!

Naturally it doesn't stop at just teasing, you get the short end of the stick with her jokes just like Hajime. You've been sitting through her nonsense for your whole life by now, it's as if shes some sort of joke encyclopedia because she has at least TWO for everything

If you do happen to have a similar sense of humor though, you guys would be having all-out pun wars for who can out-joke the other

Void is subjected to almost all of you and Emma's wars whenever you're invited to visit, which is not often because they insist that ONE Emma was enough

But oh, otherwise Void is actually quite fond of you! (even if you may have your differences with any members)

Nikei would be pestering you nonstop for your likes, dislikes, etc.. He never goes for the 'pervy' joke question though, he thinks it'd be weird because you're Emma's sibling.

Iroha is always dragging you around to show off her art in the hopes that you'll like it, maybe you can help her paint too?

You've probably already met Hajime before because of him being closer to Emma, but somehow he's even MORE motherly than her so you quickly shift your 'ok mom' jokes to him aswell. He doesn't know what to say to that and it confuses him more than anything

A lot of things depend on you liking Mikado, if it's AI!Mikado you're probably iffy on him; no-one can be THAT charming and creepy at the same time, he's probably like a serial killer or something, if you ever told him that though he'd tell on you to Emma, who would ignore him and leave him defeated ("Boo-hoo.. Y/N really thinks so lowley of me! I'm in tears!")

If it's IRL!Mikado though, you and him probably wouldn't talk much in the first place. He's not very good with new people and probably made a nervous error that made him too emberassed to talk to you for a while. He'll warm up eventually but you probably know him as the guy whos typing away on his computer all the time Overall, you and Emma have a pretty eventful life and are always finding new things to do. She really is glad to have family like you, afterall, it's all she's ever wanted