#Sister Ophelia Pierce

[flowerandblood]

The Downfall (Oneshot)

[ Hamlet • dark Aemond x Ophelia • female ]

[ warnings: dubcon, sex content, fingering, virgnity loss, violence, suicide, angst, smut, obsession, remorse ]

[ description: When she attracts the attention of Prince Aemond during the wedding feast of his brother and his sister, she knows that something terrible is going to happen. His figure lunges towards her like black storm clouds and she feels that, along with his desire, he will bring on her downfall. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

"Tis I who should receive this honour. I, second son, rider of the greatest dragon in the world, experienced in wielding the sword, educated in history and philosophy, 'tis I who should…" He didn't finish, pressing his lips into a thin line. He stopped in the middle of the chamber, not looking at her but at the floor, his eye wide open in rage, his nostrils twitching in accelerated breath.

She swallowed hard, clenching her fingers on the material of her gown, sitting in one of the chairs at the table, fearful of him as usual when he behaved in this way, making her unsure how to act.

To endorse his words would have meant betrayal, so she had to remain silent, though her heart was pounding like mad in her chest, a drop of cold sweat running down the back of her neck.

Their betrothal had come as a surprise to her; the prince had caught sight of her at a grand wedding feast held in honour of his brother and his sister, dancing among dozens of other couples.

She dared not look at him, knowing of the arrangements between the Red Keep and Storm's End, not wanting to ridicule herself by begging like some of the women for his attention.

Apparently that was what made his bright, cold, dangerous eye notice her figure and his sight did not leave her until the end of the evening. At first she thought she was just imagining it, then, however, glancing towards the table standing in front of the Iron Throne she met his gaze, his lips curving into a grin that was disturbing to say the least.

She was terrified.

The next day, her father was asked to extend their stay in the Red Keep and enjoy the King's hospitality, though it was not explained to them for what reason.

She was frightened because she understood what it meant – she never went anywhere alone, always taking a servant with her, having heard numerous stories of what Prince Aegon did to women who caught his eye.

She didn't want to see for herself if his younger brother was the same.

It seemed to her that black clouds had gathered over her, that it was a matter of time when something would happen, and indeed, when she came across him passing through the courtyard during one of his sparring sessions, though she turned her head away, his deep, mocking voice stopped her.

"My Lady."

She swallowed hard, knowing that if she didn't answer anything, if she didn't look at him, she would commit a great discourtesy and offend him.

She couldn't afford it.

Therefore, she turned towards him, looking at the ground, seeing only his legs and waist clad in black leather garment, bowing before him.

"Your Highness."

She felt for a moment that her heart stood in her throat – the only thing she could hear around her was the clinking of steel and the voices of servants discussing something with each other behind her back. She saw the legs she was looking at move towards her and she closed her eyes.

"What a scared little bird you are. Hm?" He hummed, his voice soft and teasing at the same time, amused, as if he were speaking to a small child.

She swallowed hard and looked up at him – he towered over her with a smirk that was mysterious and unsettling, his healthy eye bright and wide open, his gaze piercing to the core, his lips swollen and full.

She felt herself grow hot with shame.

What was she supposed to answer to such a question?

The prince cocked his head, apparently ignoring her silence, taking advantage of the fact that they were standing so close to each other, watching her as if she were some curious being he had never seen before.

"I watched you dance last night. Did you feel my gaze lingering on your figure?" He asked, and she swallowed heavily, lowering her gaze, involuntarily betraying herself. The Prince grinned under his breath, seeing her reaction.

"You did." He said and looked to the side, as if he wanted to make sure no one would hear what he was about to say, leaning over her ear. "I will marry you."

She drew in the air loudly, shocked and surprised, freezing for a moment, tense, looking at him with big eyes – she shook her head, not understanding how he could say such a thing. He, however, only grinned broadly in a way that made her shudder and stepped away from her, turning to Ser Criston Cole, letting him know that they could continue.

Ser Criston gave her one terrified look that told her everything.

She was doomed.

She didn't tell her father about the prince's words because she was convinced that he was mocking her, wishing for certain that she would succumb to him and spend the night with him, only to disappear from his life forever.

She knew she couldn't let that happen if she wanted to marry any self-respecting lord and decided she would just stay inside her quarters.

And then their betrothal was announced.

There was a feeling of emptiness in her mind as she looked at him, at the wide, mischievous grin stretched across his face as he sat at the table, while his mother, the Queen, spoke to her of the King's decision, apparently persuaded by his son, wondering how she was supposed to tame such a man, tame such a fiery, unpredictable nature.

She was scared.

To her despair, her father had been invited to take on the role of one of the treasurers under the direct authority of the Small Council, which he welcomed with joy. It meant that their family was to stay in the Red Keep, and her betrothed could slowly clamp his claws around her neck.

He followed her like a wraith, sinking her further and further into his darkness, making her slowly melt into one with him, not knowing where his soul ended and hers began.

On the day he was to see his nephews again years later, she locked herself in her chamber, unwilling to watch this theatre of malice and humiliation – she knew what her betrothed thought of them, how often he mused about slitting their throats or gouging out their eyes to later gift them to his mother.

She knew he was furious, wanting to show her off like a pretty object he had in his possession, but she offered him a passive resistance that drove him to the brink of madness.

She drew in a loud breath as he surprised her by silently sneaking up to her chamber at night – she heard the loud creak of the wood beneath his body as he lay down behind her.

His one hand took place on her womb, as if he was already imagining in the back of his mind as it swelled from his seed, the other went under her jaw, stroking her skin warningly, his lips against her ear.

"You're hiding from me. You're avoiding me. You move through the keep like a shadow." He whispered, however there was no threat or frustration in his words, which she felt instead in his hand that slowly clenched around her long neck. She swallowed quietly, looking ahead at the night, starry sky outside the window.

She did not answer him.

She rarely used words in his presence.

Unfortunately, this only deepened the state she aroused in him.

A curiosity bordering on obsession.

She tilted her head back and sighed involuntarily, feeling the tickling heat spilling over her lower abdomen as his moist, full lips ran over her cheek, the tip of his tongue leaving a wet, cool trail on her hot skin.

"– I needed you –" He hissed in a trembling voice, pressing his body against hers from behind – his hard, swollen manhood hidden under the material of his breeches pushed against her buttocks, pulsing steadily. Her nipples hardened at his words, a shiver of fear and excitement ran down her spine.

His hand from her womb slid lower, between her thighs, his fingers closed on her womanhood – she knew how he learned these tricks, knew that he had played with whores before he met her, but she couldn't convince herself that she particularly cared.

The delicacy and uncertainty of the movements of his fingers did not match how she perceived him: apparently it seemed to him that one too aggressive gesture on his part and she would fall apart in his hands.

Thus, he merely teased her through the material of her nightgown, waiting as usual for her breath to grow heavy and ragged, for her buttocks to begin to roll to the flicks of his wrist and rub against his throbbing erection.

They both moaned quietly as his hand impatiently lifted the material of her long robe, seeking the warmth between her thighs and finally found it, her pulsing, swollen slit leaking from her sticky wetness.

The fingers of his hand from her neck rose higher, to her cheeks, closing on it in a rough gesture, forcing her to turn her face in his direction – she didn't resist him as his slick tongue burst deep between her lips, as his mouth pressed against hers with a loud, lewd click in a greedy, ravenous kiss that took her breath away.

She let him do whatever he wanted with her lips – he was sucking, licking and biting them, as if he were some kind of animal that had grabbed its prey and wasn't going to let her go until he devoured her.

She didn't care, because her mind seemed to be muffled, as if she was underwater, focused only on the touch of his fingers as they dug into her puffy, delicate folds, teasing again and again her warm, pulsing opening.

Her body tensed like a string, knowing what he was about to do, and then at last the tips of his fingertips broke into her hot, throbbing interior with a quiet click of her moisture.

She moaned a tad too loudly into his mouth, making him sigh deeply into her throat, freezing for a moment, his hard erection slapping impatiently against her buttocks.

"– fuck –" He gasped, startling her completely – he let her go and turned her onto her back, laying on top of her, looking at her with his mouth parted wide, breathing heavily.

She had thought that, as was his custom, he would just simply take out his manhood and make her squeeze it with her hand, touching her at the same time to give her fulfillment.

He, however, after he untied the material of his breeches, grabbed her nightgown with his hands and lifted it above her thighs, making her voice froze in her throat, her hands clasped helplessly on his shoulders.

"– n-no – no, please –" She muttered, knowing that if he took her maidenhood, took what he desired, he would never marry her, would send her and her father back to where they came from humiliated and ridiculed.

"– I need this – I need to feel you –" He breathed out, as if he was in some kind of frenzy, heedless of her helpless attempts to stop him, forcing her to spread her thighs open. She cried out, tilting her head back, closing her eyes as she felt the head of his cock begin to push against her swollen slit.

"– no – please, Aemond, please –" She whimpered, raising her trembling hands to his cheeks, stroking his jaw, trying to give him what he wanted, what he was apparently dreaming of in his black, grim mind.

"– you don't understand –" He growled, in a sharp, impatient motion trying to slide deeper into her, opening her little cunt on his throbbing, long erection. "– I fucking needed you today –"

She whined as he forced his way deeper into her body, filling her so much that she felt like he was going to tear her apart from the inside – she clenched her fingers against the material of his leather tunic, shocked at how foreign, frightening, painful and exciting this sensation was.

"– I know – I know, just a little bit more – it's almost in – shhhh –" He hushed her, stroking her head with his broad hand as he thrusted his thick root all the way in into her, one last cry of effort left her lips.

She seemed to feel him with her whole being, breathing loudly through her mouth, feeling like she was suffocating – her heart pounded like mad, her whole body quivering in his arms, his lips placing warm, moist, reassuring kisses on her cheek.

"– that's it – there we go – I'm going to start moving now –" He hummed, in a slow, lazy manner beginning to rock his hips, sliding out of her a little and sliding back in with a quiet click, trying to force her body to adapt and receive him with greater ease.

He hugged her face to the hollow of his neck, without accelerating or making sudden movements, letting her fingers tighten vulnerably on his back.

"– good girl – calm down and let me fill you with my seed –" He whispered, as if he wanted to soothe her, to reassure her that he took no pleasure in her discomfort and suffering, even though he himself was the cause of it.

She nodded, not having the strength to stand up to him, breathing loudly to relax, to endure what he wanted to do to her. A low, loud groan of pleasure erupted from his lips when he felt it, and his thrusts became a little more sure, deep, loud.

"– g-gods –" She breathed out, feeling with horror that he was teasing a spot inside her from which shivers ran through her, waves of cold terror and hot pleasure surging through her body, causing a complete void in her mind – all she could focus on was the wooden canopy of the bed above her head.

"– yes – ah – so fucking wet for me – all warm and soft –" He breathed out into her ear, licking her hot cheek with his tongue, pounding into her with sharp, deep thrusts of his hips, making her feel the tickle in her lower abdomen, in her puffy lips and in her hard nipples, the bed beneath them began to creak loudly.

She felt the familiar hot tension building within her, the tension that he aroused in her when he touched her with his fingers, that, to her despair, she began to take pleasure from this animalistic, simple act of slapping their naked, sweaty bodies against each other.

She tilted her head back and sighed as she let her hips tentatively begin to roll to his thrusts, her hands slid from his back to his bare buttocks, stroking them. He shuddered all over and groaned, blindly seeking her mouth with his own, joining her in a sticky, messy, loud kisses, licking and sucking her lips.

"– yes – yes, just like that, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckkk –" He gasped, pressing his forehead to hers, slamming into her so quickly and aggressively that he was barely sliding out of her, his thighs slapping against her buttocks again and again, opening her wide on his throbbing, fat cock.

They both were moaning shamelessly, looking at each other wide-eyed with their mouths open, listening to the shameless, sticky sounds her slick cunt made with each of his thrusts.

"– just a little more – ah – f-fuck, yes –" He groaned in elation, his final, deep, messy slaps prolonging the inevitable – she heard and understood little as a wave of pleasure shook her and something hot spilled deep inside her, their mingled wetness ran down her buttocks.

"– such a good girl –" He gasped, pulsing inside her for a moment longer, filling her with the remains of his spend.

"– Aemond –" She mumbled, feeling her little cunt clamp down on his half-hard manhood, sucking it inside her again and again.

He fell on top of her without strength, panting heavily, and they both remained silent for long time. She finally heard him swallow hard, not even daring to look at her, his face sunk into the crook of her neck.

"– will you forigve me, little bird? –" He muttered in a weak, deep, trembling voice.

At his question a single tear of sadness, regret and emptiness ran from the corner of her eye down to the side of her face, falling onto his forehead.

He felt it and lifted himself on his arm, wanting to look at her, but what he saw apparently made something inside him break.

He clamped his eyelid shut, swallowed hard and pressed his body against hers, burying his face in the pillow.

She didn't know why her hand lifted and laid on his head, stroking his hair with gentle, calm movements, why she felt a squeeze in her heart, why she wanted to comfort him.

Why she let him stay with her that night, cuddled into to her as if he were a small child.

And then the King died.

Her betrothed walked into her chamber the next day, pale, not looking into her eyes, twitching all over, as if in shock.

"My father is dead…" he began, and her mouth opened wide, looking at him in horror, "… and my grandfather demands that I marry one of Lord Baratheon's daughters."

She stared at him dully, feeling her heart stop in her chest, her stomach twisting in pain as if she was about to vomit.

"I admitted to my grandfather what I did to you. I refused to let him send you away. You will become a Septa. You will be safe and retain your dignity I wrongfully took from you." He said and flinched hard as she grinned at his words, looking at her in disbelief.

"Do you think I'm surprised? I knew you wouldn't keep your word the day I saw you."

It seemed to her that something in her words broke him, for his lower lip began to tremble without the participation of his free will, his eye turned red, his nostrils twitched in heavy, accelerated breathing.

He was unable to get anything out of himself.

On the evening of the day before she was to leave the Red Keep, she demanded that a bath be prepared for her.

She knew he would come to her, she knew his conscience would not let her go without a farewell, she knew he would want to take her one more time before he abandoned her once and for all.

When she was left alone she slipped under the water, sinking her head into it as well, and closed her eyes, feeling strangely calm as the air stopped flowing into her lungs, a shudder shook her body indicating that some part of her still wanted to live.

It was said afterwards that the prince had found her and pulled her out of the water, that he had sobbed and wailed over her bare body, that he had locked her in his embrace, not allowing anyone to come near her, kneeling with her cuddled into his chest on the cold stone floor.

It was said that after that evening he stopped to speak and leave his chamber, staring dully into the fire for hours, playing between his fingers with a lock of her hair, the only memento he had left of her.

It was said that the prince's heart had died with her.

[lestatdelivncvurt]

𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Reader

The death of Daemon Targaryen never had hurt you more than it should.

Inspired by Ophelia from Hamlet. The end quote is from Song of Achilles.

fanfiction | House of the Dragon

"Daemon, where are you going?" You inquire as you watches him readying to soar on dragonback with Dark Sister. Your gaze lifted to meet his, worry etched upon your visage as you observed your beloved. The war still raged, his life at stake.

Daemon turned to face you, unable to utter the truth, he imparted to you a falsehood. "Fret not for me, my love," he reassured, yet noting that your furrowed brow betrayed your unease.

He descended from his dragon, alighting before you on the earth. He clasped your hands firmly in his, bestowing a tender kiss upon them.

Your eyes locked with his. "Where are you going?" You softly inquire once more, voice quivering akin to your heart that throbbed and ached with dread. "You cannot go." It was your intuition that whispered so.

Nevertheless, Daemon sought to reassure you. "I shall return." The prince enfolded you in a kiss, pressing his lips fervently against yours, yearning to cherish the moment with you one last time.

As the kiss parted, he stroked your cheeks, brushing away the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. "Keep this ring," he murmured, placing the silver ring in your palm.

A look of confusion crossed your visage as you gazed at him.

"Know that you are half of my soul," he whispered to you, and you were a fool to let him depart from your side.

You observed as he ascended Caraxes. The sense of foreboding only intensified as he and Caraxes soared into the heavens, perhaps never to return to you.

When he leapt towards Aemond with Dark Sister, you pondered what thoughts consumed him, his allegiance to Rhaenyra or his love for you?

As his blade pierced through the boy like butter, its edge piercing his remaining eye, was he reminiscing about you?

Did remorse grip him for leaving you bereft and alone?

Every morning you awoke to an empty bed, solitude enveloping you. The news of his demise shook you to the core, unable to contain your tumult of emotions, you wept bitterly.

Days passed, the war for the throne persisted. And you battled against the war of grief and madness threatening to engulf you completely. His remnants provided solace, soothing your tears and calming the sobs that escaped.

Rhaenyra and the others watches as you gradually descended into madness.

You sank to the ground, faltering with each step, observing as the water tenderly kissed the earth, forming a gentle ripple. The God's Eye was where your beloved had met his end with the young prince Aemond.

You prayed for Aemond, envisioning the suffering he must have endured.

Tears streamed down your face as you knelt by the water's edge, feeling the anguish in your heart. How could he forsake you so? He vowed to stay by your side, to live, to love you eternally.

You clutched the ring he had bestowed upon you not long ago.

"I shall return," he pledged as he placed the ring in your hand. The silver caressed your skin. Then he bestowed upon you a kiss, one of fervor and hunger. You could faintly feel his lips against yours, so sweet and intoxicating. He departed with his sword and his dragon as you watched from below, witnessing him slowly recede from your life.

Now you wished you had halted him.

Regardless of the throne's fate, regardless of victory or defeat, you stood resolute. The water beckoned to you, like a siren luring sailors. You dipped your feet into the water, smiling as though sensing his touch against your skin.

Similar to Queen Helaena and Daemon, you submerged into the water. Even as it embraced you tighter and deeper, pulling you further down, you only closed your eyes, gazing at the darkening and blurring sky. You tightened your grip on the ring in your hand. Not it, you could not lose it, not even in death.

Death welcomed you like an old friend, with open arms. You accepted your destiny.

In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.

[sagesskies]

ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ ᴀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ II

✒ ᴛᴏ ᴀꜱᴋ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ

✒ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴀʀᴅᴇɴᴇʀ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ᴡʜᴏ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ.

ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ ᴀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ I

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ᴄʟᴀꜱꜱɪꜱᴍ, ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴄᴜᴏᴜꜱ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏɴʟʏ), ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴀᴘᴀᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴅɪꜱᴄɪᴘʟɪɴɪɴɢ ɢʟᴇɴɴ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ʙᴀᴅ ᴅᴏɢ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅʀᴜɢ ᴀᴅᴅɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴀᴅᴜʟᴛᴇʀʏ, ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ, ᴄʀᴇᴇᴘ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ɢʟᴇɴɴ, ʙʟᴀᴄᴋᴍᴀɪʟɪɴɢ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ

You were in the gardens, napping on the bench in a manner unbefitting of a nobleman, when you were alerted by his new attendant, Curtis’ nephew Samuel, that a man by the name of Glenn Alston was waiting for you in the parlor. 

You sighed, and rubbed at your weary eyes, “So, you just let some random man inside the estate without my permission?” 

Samuel flinched, “I… I apologize, my Lord…” He gulped, “He knew the guards, a-and they just let him in…” 

You glared at him. If Curtis were here, he would have made sure Glenn would be waiting not in your parlor, but rather outside by the gates, as was custom for those whose entrance wasn’t authorized. Unfortunately Curtis was on his honeymoon in the south with his new husband. 

You didn’t mind the fact that he was marrying a man, you just wished he sent somebody more capable as his replacement.

You sit up, “Alright.” You stand and stretch, “Tell him I’ll be there in a few minutes.” You may as well do it, now that he’s here. Sure, there’s the whole wanting to marry you shtick, but you can fix that somehow. You don’t really have an idea how but you never needed to plan ahead, ideas just came to you naturally and things always worked out. 

You walked at a leisurely pace to the parlor, deciding to take the scenic route this time. The scenic route being the route where you pass by all the old dusty paintings of your ancestors looking snobby. You still remember doodling on one of them with Glenn, who was absolutely mortified. 

You pass by the doodled-on portrait, a smirk forming on your face when you see the little stick man on the edge of the painting. You give it a small pat, and whisper a sorry to your great great uncle Bartholomew. 

You arrive at the parlor, only ten minutes later. Unsurprisingly, your brother James is also here, alongside your sister Ophelia. It’s silent in the room, as they all stare at you. You’re only looking at Glenn who has grown from an awkward 16 year old to a handsome man in his prime. His messy dark hair is coiffed and styled to perfection, and he wears clothes that aren’t as expensive as yours, but he wouldn’t have been able to afford the last time you had seen him. What hasn’t changed are his hazel eyes, which were as piercing as ever. 

You notice that at his feet, lies a polished leather suitcase. You wonder what could be inside.

“Good day, all.” You drawled, and go to settle in between James and Ophelia, who shuffle aside to make room for you. 

“It’s 3 in the afternoon,” James grumbled, then his voice dropped to a whisper, “I thought you said you wouldn’t let him in.” 

You roll your eyes, and don’t bother to whisper back, “It wasn’t me who let him in, it was the guards.” 

Ophelia groaned, “Ugh, we should really upgrade our security…” She buried her face in her gloved hands, “Why on earth would they let him in anyways.” 

You glance at Glenn, who gives you what you recognize as a lovesick smile. You resist the urge to gag. “Well? How did you manage to get in here Glenn?” 

“I grew up with some of the guards,” Glenn reminded you, “I was just lucky that the ones I knew were on duty.”  

His voice takes on a teasing tone, “You really should get better guards, I only had to ask and they let me in.” 

Samuel entered the room, and set down a tray that held a teapot, four cups, and a jar full of sugar cubes. He avoided the gazes of you and your siblings, as he poured you all tea. He bows deeply, you swear if he bows even deeper his head would touch the floor, and then quickly leaves the room. 

Glenn takes a cup, and sips, “Who is that young man anyway?” He glances at you, when he asks this, “Usually it’s Curtis serving tea.” 

You don’t deign to answer him, taking a sip of your own tea. 

“Curtis is on a honeymoon,” Ophelia opens the jar of sugar and puts a teaspoon of it in her own cup, and steadily mixes it, “We’re left with his nephew, Samuel.” You notice the way her eyes shine the same way it does when she talks about her horse Galadrielle. A small smirk forms on your face. It appears your little sister has a crush on the lousy servant. 

James grunts, “Curtis could’ve at least taught the boy how to make proper tea,” His frown intensifies, “Tastes like dishwater.” 

“How would you know what dishwater tastes like?” You raise a brow, sipping your tea that, while not the best, doesn’t taste like dishwater. 

Glenn clears his throat, “Anyways, I would like to apologize for my intrusion, and whatever shock I may have inflicted with my arrival,” He glances at you from the corner of his eye, no doubt wondering about your reaction. 

You simply raise your brow as he continues to speak.

“I am aware that you do not want me here, but I have come to propose an offer to you,” Glenn pulled out the suitcase, and set it on the table beside the platter. With a click, it opens and he pulls out a thin stack of papers, “I assure you, it is worth your time.” 

James takes the paper, and reads through it. Since he was young, James was always the most expressive of your siblings. So when you saw the whirlwind of emotions that went through his face, you braced yourself for what was to come. 

He passed the papers to you, his uncharacteristic silence worried you. Guess you’ll find out what all the trouble is about.

The first page was innocuous, it had his name, age, gender, date of birth, all the usual stuff. It was the second page that started to get interesting, it included his involvement in multiple famous cases, most of which you heard of in passing but you knew how famous they were even with your shallow pool of knowledge. What caught your eye however, was one near the end of the list of long accomplishments: 

12. Involved in the campaign for the legalization of same-sex marriage in the country of Ethain as well as the first to propose the notion to the high court, and is known to have written the Eros Papers, which aided in persuading the high court to approve of the legalization of same-sex marriage. 

Your eyes widened, but you didn’t allow yourself to react more than that. You continued to flip through, till your eyes landed on a text that stated that if you were to refuse to sign the papers, information would be released of the family's involvement in… less than moral acts. 

Your hands moved quickly as you read faster, how did he know all of this? Your cousin Maddox’s drug addiction, your mother’s affair, your own affair with the Grand duke, your grandparent’s stealing of the rights to Johnathan Shaffer’s patent. The family’s darkest secrets, all in a few papers. 

You glared at Glenn, “How did you know all of this?” You wanted to wipe off that expression on his face, preferably with your fist. 

“Know what?” Ophelia had a confused expression on her face. James’ reaction was concerning enough, but you actually showing at least a modicum of genuine anger was even more so. 

You handed her the papers, and got up from your spot on the sofa. You racked through your mind as you tried to figure out how Glenn discovered these secrets. Even when Glenn lived here, he was still only the gardener’s son, privy to the same amount of secrets as all the other servants. Which was none. Zero, zip, zilch, nada. 

Ophelia gasped, and dropped the papers. Her eyes, the same hue of [e/c] as yours, were widened in shock, “H-how?” She looked at Glenn, who lounged casually on the sofa he sat on, “What do you want from us?” 

Glenn smiled, it was beautiful, just like the rest of him. God, you hated how you were still so weak for him. Even after all this time, even after he left you without anything more than a shoddy note. 

“What I want from you, is the position as the family’s lawyer,” He paused, and then his smile grew as his hazel eyes locked with your [e/c] ones, “And [Name]’s hand in marriage.” 

You stifled the urge to groan. Glenn was always such a weirdo, and that still hasn’t changed, even if it’s been over a decade. You made your way back over to the sofa, and plopped back down, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring at Glenn who simply kept on smiling. 

This felt wrong, you weren’t used to not being the one in control. Despite how lazy you are, you’re always the one in charge in any situation, that’s just how things are when you’re from the [L/N] family. 

But Glenn, for all of his weirdness, was by all accounts a genius. He was always meant for something more than tending to the gardens, you knew that from the moment you met him. And it always made you feel so inferior. The current situation didn’t help negate that feeling.

Your hand in marriage was one thing, but the position of the family lawyer belonged to Glenn’s own uncle. Erik Alston. You didn’t remember him much, but he was always kind to you and to Glenn. 

“Do you really want to take Erik’s job?” You raised a brow at him, “He’s your uncle, if you recall.” 

Glenn shrugs, and then takes another sip from his tea, “That’ll be between me and my uncle,” He then asks you a question, “Do you want all your secrets to be exposed to the court?” 

You purse your lips. The [L/N] family was of a high esteem, despite simply being a ducal family. If the public knew about the crimes of your family, anybody bearing the [L/N] name would be shunned from the court, and you could be subjected to a public execution for your family’s crimes. 

“Why are you bringing this to us?” James asks, he stares at Glenn, “Why not our parents?” 

Glenn chuckles, “Your parents are… how do I put this?” He hums, “Well, they wouldn’t really care. Your mother is too busy banging Baron Hensley, and your father is too focused on tending to his hunting dogs to care about his own children.” 

He takes another sip of his tea, “Besides, they’re getting old,” Glenn sets his cup down, now that it’s empty, “And I don’t want anything from them. All I want, I can get from you, [Name].” 

You bury your face in your hands. A younger, more naive, you would’ve been thrilled to hear this. The boy you were in love with telling you all he wanted, you could give him. You would’ve thought it was so romantic. 

But now all you can think is that you’re so screwed. And not in the way you’d like to be. 

“James, Ophelia,” You lift your face from your hands, “Leave us.” 

Ophelia furrows her brow, “Are you sure, [Name]?” 

James gets up from his spot on the couch, and walks over to Ophelia, and pulls her up, “Let’s just listen to him,” He glares at you, perhaps he blames you for what’s happening right now. You can’t help but agree with that notion. “Maybe he’ll get us out of this.” 

James leads Ophelia out of the room, she sends you back a worried glance, and then the door shuts behind them. 

Now it’s just you and Glenn in this room. It feels like you’ve been caged in with a rabid dog, ready to lunge at you and rip into your jugular. In another world, if you were just a bit more classist, you’d be treating him like one. Perhaps this wouldn’t happen if you just beat him into his place, scolded and disciplined him like the bad boy he was being. 

Glenn gets up from the sofa, and makes his way over to you. He sits down where James was only earlier, and runs a hand down your cheek. Before, his hands were always warm and rough from a day of work. They were still rough, but they were colder now. Suddenly, Glenn’s hand grabs your chin, and you wince at the harsh feeling of his nails digging into your skin. 

“I missed you…” He breathed in your scent, “God, I fucking missed you.” Glenn released your face, and then pulled you in, arms wrapping tightly around you. He gripped you like a child would grip its favorite toy, it felt suffocating, and you hated how he smelled like leather. 

“You know, when I found out about your affair with the grand duke,” Glenn rests his head on the crook of your shoulder, “I was devastated. I was in the capital when I found out, and I wanted to march over to the duke’s palace and beat his smarmy little face in.” His grip tightened on you as he said these words. 

If he wanted you to be guilty about sleeping with the grand duke, he had another thing coming. Sure, Christopher Avery was a dickhead, but he was an attractive dickhead, and he was surprisingly good in bed despite his family being highly religious and always preaching about ‘marriage before sex’ and being vehemently against the legalization of same sex marriage. 

And unlike Glenn, you weren’t willing to wait a decade for him to come back. 

“But… I get it,” Glenn’s voice grew soft, “You were lonely, and you needed somebody to keep you company. I.. I can’t say I haven’t slept with others.” Now that’s surprising, you fully expected him to still be untouched. You always expected him to have saved himself for you, not because that’s what you wanted but because it just seemed like something he’d do. 

“Who did you do it with?” You asked. Was it with a prostitute? A fellow student? Perhaps some man he met at a bar? 

“I don’t know. All I know is that he looked like you,” Glenn’s arms wrapped tighter, his hair tickling your neck, “But don’t worry about it, he’s gone now.” He said that like he expected you to be relieved or something, but instead you were starting to feel unnerved. 

“Let’s get married,” Glenn unwrapped an arm, and brought it to your hair, which he played with, “Like we said we would, when we were younger.” 

You sighed, “Glenn, we were kids, you don’t actually think…” But he pressed a finger to your lips. 

“Shhh…” From his expression, you could tell he wanted you to keep your mouth shut, “The marriage will be good, for both you and your family. You won’t have to worry about managing the estate, and your family gets to keep all its secrets.” 

“And you?”

He smiled, looking so much like the boy you fell in love with, “I’ll get to be with you, and that’s all I want.”

You could care less about not having to manage the estate, that was already assured for you through James, who grew up wanting nothing more than to be the next duke. But keeping the family’s secrets secret, that… you’d kill for that. 

Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad for you to be with Glenn. He was smart, good-looking, and no matter how long it’s been, he’s still the boy who stole your heart the day he left all those years ago. 

You shift your body, so that you’re now resting on his lap, legs wrapping around his waist, and you drape your arms around his shoulders. You’re so close to his face now, his eyes are wide, and his cheeks are starting to become red. You run a hand through his dark hair, and give him a peck on the forehead. Delighting in the way the red on his cheeks starts to spread to his ears. 

“Alright then,” You smirk. Although Glenn is the one holding all the cards, you’re still his greatest weakness, and that means you’re the one in control, “I’ll marry you, Glenn Alston.”

You press your lips against his, and smile, “Till death do us part.”

[whencloudwavesbreak-if]

When Cloud Waves Break Pinned Post

LINKS: DEMO [UPDATED 30/03/2024] | COG FORUM

SUMMARY

When Cloud Waves Break is a work-in-progress murder mystery/Lovecraftian horror interactive fiction story. After returning to your hometown of Golden Gulf, your older sister is brutally murdered. The method? Poison. The location? The Twin Suns restaurant, on its reopening night. It's up to you to find her killer. But it won't be easy. Between dealing with your hostile brother-in-law, the police force interfering every step of the way, and your own memories about why you left, you're in for a rough time. And that's not even taking into account the weird dreams you've been having…

FEATURES

Play as male, female, or non-binary; straight, gay, or bisexual.

Customize your sister: choose her name, her personality, and determine your relationship with her.

Choose between four possible occupations: actor, doctor, soldier, or dilettante.

Learn more about the history of Golden Gulf, how your family ties into it, and what it has to do with your sister's murder.

And maybe stop a cult. Or join them. It's up to you.

ROMANCE OPTIONS

Officer Wyatt Pierce (M) "I've made many mistakes. But caring for you? Isn't one of them."

Description: An officer of the Golden Gulf Police Department. He also used to be your neighbour when you were kids. Time changes people though. Can you love who he is now?

Appearance: Greying hair - younger than he looks. Massive claw marks across his face, burned into the skin.

Personality: He's gruff and tired. Growing up in Golden Gulf, he learned to let many things slide. It weighs on him, made him callous. But then your sister died. Suddenly, he can't be callous anymore. Not with her dead. And especially not when you're here.

Officer Casey Young (NB) "I'll keep you safe. I promise."

Description: The officer from Augusta, sent to find and arrest the leader of the Burning Waters crime gang, Nina Wu. They don't trust many people. Maybe you can be the exception?

Appearance: Faded tattoo of a monkey on their neck; wild hair; friendly, but cautious eyes.

Personality: They are kind, with a spine of steel, and will always do the right thing. Even if everyone turns against them and they risk losing everything. Make them care for you, though, and the choice will destroy them.

Evelyn Ross (F) "You and me? It just feels too good to be true."

Description: Your brother-in-law's administration assistant. Duty and logic drives her every action. To her, love is a silly afterthought. Maybe you can change her mind?

Appearance: Petite. Lustrous, thick hair. Bright eyes. Glasses. Conventionally attractive.

Personality: Her calculating mind is her greatest strength, but also her greatest weakness. She's aware of all the possibilities stretching out before her, but also of the consequences. And it paralyzes her. But reassure her, become an anchor for her, and she'll lift you up in turn.

Jeremiah/Jessamine Callahan (M/F) "I'd forgotten what this felt like. Thank you for reminding me."

Description: The sole survivor of the wealthy Callahan family. You grew up with their spouse, Riley. They've loved and they've lost. Maybe you can help them learn to love again?

Appearance: Hair braided in cornrows; ragged and tattered clothes; an air of sadness that hangs over them like a cloud.

Personality: They aren't afraid to say what they think and have a very strong moral compass. But it can sometimes lead them to jumping to conclusions. Get them on your side though, and they'll follow you to the very end. 'Til death do you part.

Oscar/Ophelia Lovelace (M/F) "You are everything that I imagined you to be."

Description: The interior designer contracted for the reconstruction. Love wasn't enough to keep you in Golden Gulf. But maybe they can?

Appearance: Very tall and graceful; eccentric sense of style; an ever-present smile.

Personality: They project a polite and mild mannered façade. But their true personality emerges through their design work, which they are obsessively dedicated to. Catch their attention, though, and they'll never let you go.

ADDITIONAL INFO

OTHER IMPORTANT CHARACTERS:

Your Older Sister: She was many things, to many people. How did you see her? Was she self-absorbed? Naive? Arrogant? Or charming? But none of that really matters now that she's dead... Does it?

Benjamin Mullen: Your sister's husband. He's a difficult man to get along with. He also has a problem with you specifically, and isn't afraid to tell you so.

INSPIRATIONS:

Agatha Christie mystery novels, Lovecraftian horror, The King in Yellow by Robert W Chambers, the TTRPGs Call of Cthulhu 7th Edition and Brindlewood Bay, and Slay the Princess by Black Tabby Games.

[eboneeblak]

Touched (Short Story)

A supernatural Southern Gothic tale. (6 minute read)

CW: Ableism, Murder, and Domestic Violence

Everything is black, an endless pit of nothingness. In the void, where no constraints exist, I gleefully experience many sensations. The sound of ambiance lingers around me. The air feels…fuzzy on my skin. The cool grassy earth beneath me sinks. Gravity weighs down on my shoulders, rendering me still. I wince. There is a sharpness that pokes at my flesh. Annoyed, I clench my hands and pull!

Go away.

Go away.

Go away.

GO AWAY!

“Ophelia, baby!”

I hear a voice from outside, and the comforting blanket of nothingness passes away. Finally, I open my eyes; it is my mother. Her eyebrows furrow with concern. Her velvety, well-manicured hands clasp mine. I see a clothing tag in it.

Stupid itchy tags.

“Baby, Sister Inez was askin’ how

speech therapy was goin’?”

It was dark now, and we were still alone in the church's parking lot. Choir practice only lasts two hours. However, in my mother’s usual fashion, her chatting forced us to stay late. My eyes glaze over Sister Inez, and I notice her scowl. Her burgundy lipstick lips tighten.

“It’s going okay.”

I look down at my shiny black shoes that Mother bought, notice the cute bows, and excitedly squiggle my toes inside.

“Ophelia has only been in it a few

weeks; the therapist says it can take a

while for her to catch up to regular

kids.”  

Sister Inez’s judgmental eyes gawk at me, sharp enough to pierce a gaping hole.

“That daughter of yours reminds me of

someone; she was also a little…

different.”

For a woman who proclaims to be so holy and sanctimonious, Sister Inez has barely mustered an ounce of empathy and kindness towards me and my mother since we arrived several months ago.

         “We’ll pray and hope she turns out

better.”

Mother and I had to travel across four states to escape my father’s abuse; the place where we are supposed to be safe has yet to make us feel welcomed.

“I’m afraid we can’t pray away what

Ophelia got goin’ on.”

“What a shame.”

My mother’s soft palms began to feel clammy and tense; I must escape this conversation.

“Water.”

I make a beeline for the church.

“Ophelia, don't take too long, dear.”

Cold water splashes into my mouth. A creaky air conditioner buzzes above, and the sound is deafening. I look around, continuing to quench my thirst. New Hope A.M.E. has seen better days; vinyl walls peel away, revealing the 200-year-old frame. Beneath the wooden floors is a mismatched array of new and old bark, with small cracks cascading across the floor, each getting larger and larger….

“What is that?”

It’s a shadow. My eyes lift, revealing a dark figure of a woman. I blink, and she vanishes. A chill shivers throughout me. My body stiffens; a deep scream traps itself in my throat. Slowly, my eyes search the room. Passing the wooden doors, there's a loud creak; instinctually, I follow the sound.

Moonlight beamed through the colorful stained windows, accentuating the dusty pews. As I inch down the aisle, the old floor bends under my weight with each step.

Demons?

My eyes examine the small, quaint church back and forth. The pulpit sits steeply above the congregation. “Minister Hezekiah Thomas” is embellished in gold on an oversized dark cherry chair. It stands tall like a throne directly in the middle of the pulpit.

A foggy memory clouds my mind.   

                                                      

Evil…

Minister Thomas’s boisterous sermon lingers in my head.

“Demons often disguise themselves as human and come to earth to harm us good Christian folk.”, so he says.

But why didn’t that woman hurt me?

Could she be something else?

Gravity rushes past me, I'm suddenly falling. Bracing my hands, I strike the hard floor, wincing in pain. I had just fallen on the edge of a staircase. The red carpet is beaten and worn. Flustering, I push myself up. There's a shrill, almost childlike cry from above, then I see her…

Her eyes glowing…

                   Her face was veiled in black.

                                 She stands still…

                                                 Watching me…                                          

“Who are you?”

Before I could utter the last syllables, she vanished. Footsteps run above me. I dash past the staircase, loudly creaking as I stomp my way up.

At the top, there’s a small corridor. A small bulb dimly lights the hallway. To the right, a door is wide open. Hanging from it is a sign that reads “Minister’s Office.” I catch my breath. A cold breeze brushes past my body. Trembling, I tread inside.

The smell of mothballs burns into my nostrils. Minister Thomas’s office is quaint but heavily decorated. White curtains cover a large window that overlooks the church’s parking. A worn bible is on his desk, and a family portrait is next to it.

I pick it up; it's Minister Thomas; he wears large silver-wired glasses that match his salt and paper hair. Next to him is First Lady Thomas and his four teenage sons; they all smile except for her. I place the framed picture down and notice an open drawer below.

I persist through piles of paperwork until I notice the back of a photo. I turn it around and see a couple, but I could hardly make out their faces.

Quickly, I pull the curtains back and re-examine the photo.

The woman’s smile is bright, her coily hair is pulled tightly into a French roll, and her eyes shimmer with colorful eye shadow. Next to her is a visibly younger Minister Thomas.

                    “Could this be her?”

I look out the window; Mother and Sister Inez are gone. The office doors slam behind me! A familiar chill touches my skin; a strong force holds me still. I look down and see no arms. My heart palpates. Slowly, I turn my head, quivering in fear.

Large, black, and socketless eyes stare back; a decaying black veil covers her face. What should be her mouth widens, and an ear-splitting cry erupts.

The scream wrestling within me explodes. There's a loud banging on the door. I shut my eyes.

                          “Ophelia!”

I cry out in terror, stricken with fright.

                             

  “Please don't hurt me, demon!”

I am held tighter.                   

                   

            “Ophelia, open your eyes, baby!”

It’s my mother's voice. I open my eyes to see her warm almond ones staring back. Relief washes over me, and I collapse into her arms.

“This girl has no business being in

Minister Emmanuel's office. It is

strictly off-limits!”

My mother's soft, plush skin calms me.

—————————————————————

           “What scared you back there,

honey?”

I squeeze Mr. Charlie, my stuffed bear. The old Honda Civic bumps over the dirt road leading away from the church.

“Was Minister Thomas married to

another woman?”

My mother has a stunned look on her face.

          “Why do you ask that, baby?”

I shrug my shoulders.

                      “Just curious.”

She sighs.

     “He was a long time ago, according to

Sister Inez. Her name was Violet. She

was quiet, kind of like you.”

       “Do you know what happened to

her?”

My mother stares at me through the rear-view window; she grips the steering wheel harder.

“Well, Sister Inez says Minister Thomas always seemed angry at her. Said she couldn't bear any children for him. After a while, she stopped showing up at church. Then, one day, Minister Thomas announced to the congregation that the poor girl cracked her skull on a gardening hoe and died. There was no funeral; she just disappeared, everyone moved on, and he got a new, pretty wife, First Lady Thomas.”

I look down at the photo studying Violet’s face.

           “What you got in your hand,

baby?”

I stuff the photo into the pocket of my velvet dress and lean back into my seat. I watch the maze of trees pass us by.

      “You saw her poor ghost, too,

didn't you?”

I stare at my mother through her rear-view mirror; slowly, I nod my head.

   "I don't believe a garden hoe killed her,

Mama."

My mother rolls down the window and lights a cigarette.

                   "Me neither, baby."

I sink back into my seat and close my eyes, waiting for a pool of darkness to embrace me and retreating into nothingness. Instead, a pair of large socket-less eyes gaze back at me.

Demons ain’t the only ones harming us.

                                                                                                                                                            THE END.

[promethea-silk]

FFxivWrite2024

Prompt #2: Horizon

[ tw: mentions of blood]

The sounds of the waves crashing onto the shore was muffled and distant in her ears despite the ocean being within range of being able to reach out and touch. Long passed the carried out vengeance that Cordelia and Vahalia had journeyed to Tural for. The woman, their target, nothing but a few scattered bones on the rocks that overlooked the beach before them. Even still, the anger burned inside her, leaving a hollowed out piece that seemed to grow the longer she mused on the thought. No more was she burned by the loss of her trade goods and extensive reagents siphoned off by Ophelia and her crew, now was the lingering aggravation that she hadn't seen the man coming.

She had been thankful for the adrenaline that was already coursing through her when the blade pierced through her chest, the pain only came much later. Even more, she had been thankful for Vahalia. Her sister.

The day prior to the group leaving Tuliyolal, there had been a moment where Cordelia had reassured Ricard; blood protects blood. She had trusted Vahalia up to this point, she knew her family was integral to her but there had been that small bit of her mind that wandered if the Cress Matriarch had truly accepted Cordelia as her sister, even if bastardly and without name. There was no longer doubt and until Vahalia gave her reason to consider otherwise, there never would be.

Her mind was far away, thinking back to the moment she anticipated her demise, her failure, as she stood with her feet in the sand while the small waves kissed the tips of her boots. The deed had been done, Ophelia paid for her transgressions against House Cress, as a whole, directly and indirectly. The woman's blood now dried on Cordelia's hands and arms, though there were places that remained tacky. She honed her gaze on the horizon, the stars twinkling in the night sky.

Blood protects blood, and by blood that pact has been made. Their paths had been vastly differing but now they fully came together as sisters and Cordelia wholeheartedly was willing to accept that finally.

She looked down to her dirtied hands, eventually bending at the knees to kneel into the sand. She sat there, leaning forward slightly as she simply allowed the waves to wash over her arms, erasing as much of the remaining blood on her skin as possible. The others were waiting for her to finish the return to the city, she was in need of a healer and rest, they all deserved the rest.

[Mentions: @vahalia-cress]

[ornii]

My Better Bitter Half, Part 8

“As I expected, now stop pussyfooting, and get ready because we’re going to make Bianca’s Dream into a nightmare. I’ll go prep black kitten.” (Y/n) says to his sister, who stands before him in the skin tight black suit, fuming with rage, “I will make every last moment of your life absolutely painful.” She says with venom and he nods “as expected.” He said and walks off, eventually (Y/n) reaches a small clearing that perfectly looks over the lake. He calls in via Walkie-Talkie.

“Alright, Addams 2 to Addams A.” He said, “All Cards Are set. Ready for takeover.” He said and kneels down, readying a bow an arrow, he listens calmly to Weems speaking a ways away.

“I want to welcome you all to the Edgar Allan Poe Cup. This is one of Nevermore's proudest annual traditions, dating back 125 years.

Each team must row across to Raven Island, pull a flag from Crackstone's Crypt, and hustle back without sinking or being sunk. First team to cross the finish line with their flag wins the cup and bragging rights for a year, as well as some special privileges. Let the Poe Cup begin!”

He hears a gunshot ring out and he watches them row, the four teams including his sister rowing away. He watches as they creep closer to the island to get the flag, suddenly the Boat Xavier rows begin to sink. And another topples over and it seems that some foul play was at hand, (Y/n) rose up with his bow and took aim.

“The final two teams are the Gold Bugs...and the Black Cats.” He says. He aims and prepares the arrow tip to Pierce the boat, not hurt anyone of course, he begins to trail off. And let the arrow loose, and it flies, and if by the grace of god or the Devil himself. It ricochets off of the boat, it hits multiple Metal objects and then hits a rock near the oily waters, which somehow sets the oily water on fire, creating a ring of fire around Bianca’s boat and halting them in their tracks. Which gets the Black Cats the win, which somehow was him. Absolutely stunned by this, he shrugs and accepts it,

The winning ceremony began as (Y/n) caught up to Enid who was talking his head off, whilst Wednesday just stares as Weems gives another speech,

“The first Poe Cup took place in 1897 as a way to not only honor Nevermore's most famous alumni, but to celebrate those values that all outcasts share. Community, perseverance, and determination. And we certainly saw those Congratulations to Ophelia Hall!

As a former resident, I will be happy to see the cup back on the mantle after all these years.

The trophy was given and celebrating was afoot. Unfortunately Wednesday was not the social spider her brother was and retreated to a secluded corner of the building, (Y/n) peered down the hall to see her.

“Wednesday? What are you doing down here?”

“Hiding. People keep randomly smiling at me, it's unsettling.” She said and (Y/n) chuckles.

“They’re smiling because they’re proud of you,

You took down Bianca Barclay. Try to enjoy it sister, it’s not often you take down a high scho monarch. And smile a little, Oh, come on, it won't kill you.”

“You know it will.” Wednesday responds, (Y/n) thinks for a moment.

“Well, I suppose, okay what would you like to do to celebrate?” He asks, and Wednesday thinks, and walks off and (Y/n) follows.

“Nevermore continues to be an enigma. A place where the questions far outweigh the answers. But sometimes... the answer is staring you right in the face. Don't worry, Edgar Allan. I see your sanctimonious smirk. But I will get the last laugh.” Night falls and the twins stand before the Edgar Allen Poe statue.

“Ah, a Statue?” He asks.

“Yes, i came across something most interesting, you see Edgar had a penchant for riddles. And this might be his cleverest yet. Because it's not a single riddle. Rather, each line is its own separate one. "The opposite of moon."

“Sun” (y/n) replies:

"A world between ours."

“Nether”

"Two months before June."

“April.”

"A self-seeding flower."

“Pansy.”

"One more than one."

“Two.”

"Its leaves weep to the ground."

“Ah, a Willow.”

"It melts in the sun."

“Ice.”

"It’s beginning and end never found."

“A Circle.”

"Every rule has one."

“Exception.”

"The answer will give a sharp cracking sound." Wednesday ends, and (Y/n) rubs his chin.

“Snap.. Twice.” He says, and the twins do it on unison, snap twice. Mechanisms change and shift inside the statue, suddenly it begins to move back and reveal a flight of stairs.

“Wow, as diligent as ever dear sister. You first.” He says and Wednesday heads in first without much reservation and (Y/n) follows. They enter a library full of books, books that look exactly like the ones she was looking for.

“Hm, books, just like the one Rowan had..”

“Then we’ve found our origin.” Wednesday says. The twins catch the eye of a photo being taken, of their mother. They stare at it together.

“Secret societies. Hidden libraries. Our mother staring at us in a judgmental way. These are all things I should expect. But the minute I inch towards the truth...” (y/n) thinks, from the corner of his eye his sister is bagged and dragged away. He turns around and someone whispers into his ear.

“Sleep…”

His legs suddenly fell weak and he collapses down, he rolls on his back and looks up to his eyes closing not by his choice, and dark shadows surround him. And it all fades to black.

“Luckily, I'm not afraid of the dark.”

[thebelljarwriter]

Spawns of Dracula - day 4: vampires

prompt entry for @thepromptfoundry :], vampires

summary: with the famous three wives of Dracula, comes the three children of the infamous count. the unholy trinity.

They say three children live in that castle.

 The eldest is a young beauty, slender and agile, graceful with each movement like a doe moving swiftly with the wind, a mane of dark curls that reach down to her elbows, and a complexion that glistens like the moonlight. She is the heiress to the throne, the future Countess to her father’s bloodline. 

 The middle child is the only boy, he is only three years apart from his elder sister, her complete opposite, a pretty young man, they say, he shares the same features as her — dark waves of hair and round dark eyes that make girls swoon over him. Yet, unlike his sister, he is as awkward as a baby fawn, willowy and lanky, the prettiness makes up for the lack of his clumsiness. Despite the fact his sister is older than he, the young lad is much beloved by his father. 

 The youngest is another young girl, she is the youngest and most cherished by The Count. She sits in the lap of luxury, born in silk and ribbons in the locks of her soft raven hair, she walks on her tiptoes much like a ballerina and moves much like one on the center of a stage. The others say she is the most innocent one, the one not tainted by the bloodline that is The Count’s. A little girl whose hair is tied with a rose-pink ribbon and a snow-white dress decorated with jewels, and yet behind those soft, doe eyes is the very thing she inherited from her father, the very thing she shared with her siblings. 

 Even a rose has thorns, they pierce your skin if you aren't careful. 

“Children,” The Count calls to them, “dinner is ready.”

 “Coming father.” says Ophelia, the eldest, the click of her heels echo through the halls as she makes her way down.

 “Yes, sir.” murmurs Dante as he hastily moves alongside his elder sister, earning a sideway glare from her.

 “On my way, poppa!” chirps Aurora as she finishes brushing her hair and fixing the ribbon, tying it neatly into a perfect bow. As though she were a precious little doll of sorts, maybe she was. To her father, at least, the way she dressed.

 They say the three children live in that castle.

 And the three are the unholy trinity of Dracula’s spawn.

[wesxevans]

[cisman, he/him] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [WESTLEY "WES" EVANS]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET]. You must be the [TWENTY-SIX] year old [WAITSTAFF AT NEPTUNE AND STUDENT]. Word is you’re [INTELLIGENT] but can also be a bit [CLOSED OFF] and your favorite song is [TAKE ME BACK TO EDEN BY SLEEP TOKEN]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [SEABROOK QUARTER]. I’m sure you’ll love it! 

Muse inspo:

Spotify Playlist || Pinterest Board

Basic info:

Name: Westley Alexandre Michel Evans

Nicknames: Wes

Age: 26

Birthday: October 24, 1998

Zodiac: Scorpio

Hometown: Salem, Massachusetts

Time in Aurora Bay: 2 years

Current residency: Seabrook Quarter

Occupation: Waitstaff at Neptune

Education: high school diploma, current student at Aurora Bay College (Early Childhood Education)

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Gender: Cisman

Pronouns: He/him/his

Relationship Status: Married

Faceclaim: Timothée Chalamet

Languages: English as first language, fluent in French

Family: 

Father: Laurence Evans (American)

Mother: Ada Evans (French)

Older brother: wc on main

Twin sister: Evangeline Caine Evans

Little sister: Amelia Evans

Little brother: Lucas Evans (npc)

Wife: Liza Evans

Daughter: Elise Evans

Unknown daughter: Zelda Nichols

Pet(s): white British long hair cat named Aurora, black Bombay cat named Salem (he's Liza's cat), brown stray kitten named Gingerbread Cookie

Father-in law: James Levin

Sister-in law: Sterling Levin

Niece: Sunny Levin

Nephew: Benjamin Caine

Elise:

Full name: Elise Agnes Evans

Age: 1

Birthday: October 3, 2023

Mother: Liza Evans

Zelda:

Full name: Zelda Briar Nichols

Age: 5

Birthday: June 18, 2019

Mother: Ophelia Nichols

Appearance:

Height: 6’0

Eye color: hazel

Hair: curly and brown

Body Type: lean, slightly muscular. Reference photos: BACK, STOMACH

Tattoos: Spider on stomach, small butterfly on right wrist, strawberry on left wrist

Piercings: smiley, ear piercings

Scars: one over his left eyebrow, scars on his back

Bio:

Trigger warnings: abuse, alcoholism

Westley Alexandre Evans and his twin sister were born to Laurence and Ada Evans on October 24, 1998, in Salem, Massachusetts.  Ada was known around their neighborhood for being so sweet and friendly, while Laurence was known as one of the officers of the SPD. Wes was their quiet but intelligent son, who was the top of his classes and was complimented for his talents as a young pianist. On the outside, the Evans were a perfect little family, and they were, for a while.

There was no way to forget the first night it happened, the yelling and sound of glass breaking, along with the feeling of the sharp pieces of glass cutting into his face as the bottle shattered against him. It was seared into Wes’s mind, and he had a scar on his left eyebrow to show for it. The abuse only got worse for Wes and he's received more scars for worse things on his back. Laurence had always been an angry man but after a traumatic night on the force, Laurence was never the same. He drank until he became so poisonous and cruel that he was nearly unbearable to be around, and no matter how many people’s suspicions grew that something wasn’t quite right, no one did anything. 

Ada stayed, and Wes could never understand why. Years went by, and there was nothing left in Wes but a cavity, one that only seemed to be filled by anger and loneliness. He got into fights at school because he just couldn’t tame his anger any longer, and he lost his virginity at sixteen, hoping to fill the void with something— hoping to feel anything that wasn’t loneliness or sadness...wanting to feel loved in any way. And even though it was a fleeting feeling of warmth and fulfillment, he still went after it, sleeping around and hoping one day the pain wouldn’t come back afterwards.

When Wes turned eighteen, he wanted to do something about Laurence, but all his attempts were failed ones. The SPD were friends of Laurence’s and given that Wes didn’t have the cleanest record with them, they discarded his concerns. And while Wes’s Aunt was constantly calling him and telling him that if he ever needed anything, she wouldn’t hesitate to fly him out to Aurora Bay, he couldn’t bring himself to take her up on it. Because Ada stayed, Wes stayed. He wanted to make sure she was okay. 

Years passed by, and one day Ada was gone. She’d finally left Laurence, but not only him, she’d left Wes. With nowhere else to turn to and no one left to protect, Wes called his aunt and took her up on her offer to fly him out to Aurora Bay.

Wes’s Aunt helped get him all settled into town, helping him get an apartment of his own, and a job as a waiter at Neptune since she was such great friends with the owner, James Levin. 

Now Wes is trying to create a new life for himself in Aurora Bay while trying to leave behind his painful past. During the last two years of his residency in Aurora Bay, he has gotten married to Liza Evans, has a daughter named Elise, and has a second child on the way. Every day he strives to be something good and far from what his father was.

@aurorabayaesthetic

[cartoonfanaticmonsterrobotalien]

New Ultra Opposites Heroes and Villains (Update; for @avaveevo

Heroes

Terry/Solar Flare: Fire Powers, blazing fire trails and Mundane Transformation; turns into a human with orange highlights and ear piercing

Korvo/The Legendary Super Shlorpian: Ice Powers, ice shields and ability turn villains into ice statues and Super Shlorpian Transformation *he now has eyeshadow in his Ultra Opposites form now*.; turns into a human with a ponytail and blue highlights

Yumyulack/Psylock: Psychic Powers, Mind Reading Powers, see through walls and Super Shlorpian Transformation; turns into a human with purple highlights and a nose piercing

Jesse/Electra: Electricity Powers, blazing electric trail and Mundane Transformation; turns into a human with pink highlights and a ponytail

The Pupa

Sonya/Soarin’ Girl: Super Strength and Flight

Lili/Mighty Baby: Super Cries

Phoebe MacCarthy/Katana: Martial Arts and Weapon Summoning

Janiz/Lady Super Shlorpian, Korvo’s older sister: Martial Arts and Super Shlorpian Transformation; turns into a human with light purple highlights

Kimber/Skarlet: Blood Manipulation; turns into a human with yellow and white highlights

AISHA

EVA, AISHA’s cousin

MAX, a prototype AI

Parker/Spider-Girl: Spiderman Powers

Daryl/Dark Matter, Yumyulack’s boyfriend: Psychic Powers

Stacy G/Mightette, Jesse’s girlfriend: Super Strength

Principal Cooke/Super Cooke: Flight and Laser Eyes

Ms. Frankie/Shadow Lady: Martial Arts and Weapon Summoning

Nova/Lady Roseus: Gift

Kevin/The Flamethrower: Fire Breath

Randall/Ultra Man: Super Strength and Flight

Jamie/Firey: Fire Powers

Darcy/Miss Darcina: Muscle Growth

Ms. Perez/Shout Out: Super Yell

Sherbet/Violet: Color Changing Powers

Cherie/Agent Red: Martial Arts and Fire Powers

Montez/The Master: Psychic Powers

Pezlie/Shadow: Acid Tears

Mia/Shine Light: Green Lantern Powers

Janice/Master Smasher: Super Strength

Monica Miller/Acid Girl: Acid Powers

Trevor/Tip-Shot: Laser Fingers

Shauna/Frostbyte: Ice Vision

Dr. Weatherstone/Hurricane: Wind Manipulation

Glen “Dodge Charger”/Silver Knight: Silver Powers *Glenn used to be on Ophelia and Echo’s side before LSS saved him from Echo’s toxic spikes*

Zylenol “Zy”/Cyclops: Laser Eyes

Gragger/Sticky Squid: Goo Powers

Skunt/Zamboni: Spinning Ball Powers

Ringo/Master Blaster: Arm Cannons *right also has his memories back*

Sofia/Glitter Girl: Glitter Powers

Gavin: A Wallian and supporter for the Ultra Opposites and supports his best friend Sofia.

Villains

Ophelia: A space empress and The Ultra Opposites’ arch-nemesis

Sister Sisto/Echo: A false prophet revived by Ophelia

Nicholas Ronalds/Night Runner: A boy that Jesse used to be in love with until she learned that he was a mutant and dumped him

Kitty: A spoiled brat who became a criminal after her parents cut off her allowance

Captain Rusty: A robot pirate

Stacey and Casey/The Phenomenal Twins: Former circus performers turned livestreamers

Iron Knuckle: A former Russian wrestler who became a cyborg after he got into a giant accident during one of his matches

Dr. Brain: Korvo and Janiz’s father

Robo Korvo: An evil robot version of Korvo built by Ophelia

Miss Songstress: A singer who wants Korvo’s musical talent to rule Earth

Basilisk: A mutant fish with laser eyes

Commander Zarck/Supreme Master: Shapeshifter

Janiz, EVA, and MAX are owned by @avaveevo

Phoebe and Monica are owned by @themagicwolf6677

Parker is owned by @prospitdaydreamer

[selkiedomus]

welcome to the opera of omens! prepare yourself for a dramatic retelling of the tragic tale of The Banshee.

The Banshee's tale has been told since the opera house was first built, and their first performance interrupted by a terrible shriek.

as the tale goes, she haunts this very opera house and kills any who dare take over the spotlight. if you hear her shriek or call your name, it is a dire omen of death.

first, let's meet our wonderful leading ladies, ophelia and olivia! unfortunately, ophelia has met with tragedy and is our murder victim. both women are the daughters of the opera house's owner, and ophelia was always the star of the show while olivia was star of the dancers. once very close, they've grown apart.

next, the orchestra! meet orville o'byron, chester clarke, and raquel reed! of course, they are only a few members of the orchestra, but they are prime suspects! orville refuses to tell you anything about that ring, chester is quiet and only feels comfortable speaking to her girlfriend raquel, and raquel has a mysterious injury over her eye, as well as a missing eyebrow piercing.

next, meet one of our amazing ballet dancers, and the previous owner of the opera house! christine clarke is chester's eldest sister, and seems to dislike the osbornes despite dancing for the opera.

octavia osborne is ophelia and olivia's mother, but unfortunately she passed away two years ago, leaving the opera house entrusted to ophelia.

finally, the true stars of the show, sally spears and detective grimoire! they dressed in their finest evening attire for the opera, but ended up being thrown into another murder mystery.

and of course, this show won't be over until the bat lady sings.

[natty1730]

Playlist (Metal Family OC)

🌼Daisy Oceanos Morozov 🌼

Blue Hair ~ TV Girl

Mary On A Cross ~ Ghost

Bring Me To Life ~ Evanescence

Call Me Little Sunshine ~Ghost

Teenagers ~My Chemical Romance

Chelsea Dagger ~ The Fratellis

Dear Maria, Count Me In ~ All Time Low

Oblivion ~ Grimes

Brutal ~ Olivia Rodrigo

Ain’t It Fun ~ Paramore

Cigarette Daydream ~ Cage The Elephant

Lovesong ~The Cure

Fade Into You ~ Mazzy Star

About a Girl ~ Nirvana

Iris ~ The Goo Goo Dolls

Love Will Tear Us Apart ~ Joy Division

Just Like Heaven ~ The Cure

Summertime Sadness ~ Lana Del Rey

Brooklyn Baby ~ Lana Del Rey

West Coast ~ Lana Del Rey

Watercolor Eyes ~ Lana Del Rey

High By The Beach ~ Lana Del Rey

Blue Madonna ~ BORNS

Sweet Dreams ~ BORNS

Jealous ~ Eyedress

Want Me ~Baby Queens

Romeo and Juliet ~ The Killers

Midnight Love ~ Girl in Red

Genesis ~ Grimes

Maya the Psychic ~ Gerard Way

Women ~ Harry Styles

My Boy ~ Billie Eilish

The Less I Know The Better ~ Tame Impala

My Type ~ Saint Motel

Happier Than Ever ~ Billie Eilish

Give You Hell ~ The All-American Rejects

Cornflower Blue ~ Flower Face

We’re Not Gonna Take It ~ Twisted Sister

The Story Ain’t Over ~ Avantasis

I Wanna Rock ~ Twisted Sister

Somebody Told Me ~ Motionless In White

Rock You Like a Hurricane ~ Scorpions

You Give Love A Bad Name ~ Bon Jovi

Smells Like Teen Spirit ~ Nirvana

I Was Mad For Lovin’ You ~ KISS

It’s My Life ~ Bon Jovi

Creep ~ Radiohead

Pour Some Sugar On Me ~ Def Leppard

Boulevard of Broken Dreams ~ Green Day

Psychic Reader ~ Bad Bad Hats

BLUE ~ Troye Sivan , Alex Hope

Cardigan ~ Taylor Swift

Lovefool ~ The Cardigans

Willow ~ Taylor Swift

Pretty Girl ~ Clairo

Always Forever ~ Cults

Candy ~ Robbie Williams

Something That I Want ~ Grace Potter

Can I Call You Tonight ~Dayglow

Melting ~ Kali Uchis

Moonlight ~ Kali Uchis

See You Again ~ Tyler, The Creator & Kali Uchis

Telepatia ~ Kali Uchis

I Wish you Roses ~ Kali Uchis

La Luna Enamorada ~ Kali Uchis

First Love/Last Spring ~ Mitski

Never Felt So Alone ~ Labrinth

Blue ~ LAUNDRY DAY

Colors of the Wind ~ Judy Kuhn

Lavender Haze ~ Taylor Swift

Heather ~ Conan Gray

Something Good ~ Alt-J

She ~ Dodie

Reencuentro ~ Huara

Zamba’l Mar ~ Anida

Chitquitita ~ ABBA (Spanish Version )

Ophelia ~ The Lumineers

Selfless ~ The Strokes

Once Upon a December ~ Anastasia

J’s lullaby ~ Delaney Bailey

The Night We Met ~ Lord Huron & Phoebe Birdgers

This Side of Paradise ~ Coyote Theory

I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend ~ The Rubinoos

Teenage Dirtbag ~ Wheatus

Luna de Xelaju ~ Gaby Moreno & Oscar Isaac

All The Things She Said ~ t.A.T.u

Parents ~ YUNGBLUD

Freaks ~ Surf Curse

Not Allowed ~ TV Girl

Living Life , In The Night ~ Cheriimoya & Sierra Kidd

King For A Day~ Pierce The Veil

Flames ~ MOD SUN & Avril Lavigne

Amnesia ~ MOD SUN

Bones ~ MOD SUN

Break the Rules ~ Charli XCX

Rebel Girl ~ Bikini Kill

Nunca Es Suficiente ~ Natalia Lafourcade

Haste la Raiz

Tu Falta De Querer ~ Mon Laferte

Amarrame ~ Mon Laferte & Juanes

Amor Completo ~ Mon Laferte

The Adults Are Talking ~ The Strokes

Soledad y el Mar ~ Natalia Lafourcade & Los Macorinos

Cariño~ The Marias

Remember the Time ~ Michael Jackson

Chicago ~ Michael Jackson

P.Y.T. ~ Michael Jackson

Arabella ~ Arctic Monkeys

I Wanna Be Yours ~ Arctic Monkeys

Green Light ~ Lorde

Liability ~ Lorde

All I Wanted ~ Paramore

Misery Business ~ Paramore

Still into You ~ Paramore

Kiwi ~Harry Styles

I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE ~ Maneskin

Stargirl Interlude ~ The Weeknd & Lana del Rey

New Girl ~ Labrinth

Pumped Up Kicks ~ Foster The People

Free Spirit ~ Khalid

hate u love u ~ Olivia O’Brien

In My Dreams ~ Kali Uchis

Super Psycho Love ~ Simon Curtis (The YouTube Version)

She’s My Collar ~ Gorillaz & Kali Uchis

Cherry Flavored ~ The Neighborhood

Backyard Boy ~ Claire Rosinkranz

Dirty Little Secret ~ The All-American Rejects

Move Along ~ The All-American Rejects

Dueles ~ Jesse & Joy

Romantic Lover ~ Eyedress

September (Instrumental) ~ Sparky Deathcap

Magalenha ~ Sergio Mendes

Fanfarra - Cabua-Le-Le ~ Sergio Mendes

Mas Que Nada ~ Sergio Mendes & Brasil’66

The Girl From Ipanema ~ Astrud Gilberto

Baiana ~ Barbatuques

Me Gustas Tu ~ Manu Chao

Pais Tropical ~ Sergio Mendes & Brasil’66

Tubarao Te Amo ~ Dj LK de Escocia & Tchakabum & MC Ryan

Carta Ao Tom 74 ~ Toquinho & Vinicius de Moraes

Girl From Rio ~ Anitta

Dancando ~ Ivete Sangalo

Ai Se Eu Te Pego ~ Michel Telo

Balada ~ Gusttavo Lima

Taboo ~ Don Omar

Calm Down ~ Rema & Selena Gomez

R.I.P 2 My Youth ~ The Neighborhood

NYMPHOLOGY ~ Melanie Martinez

Smell Like Cherry ~ Alex Ves (Metal Family)

Light ~ Alex Ves (Metal Family)

Tales of a Pine ~ Alex Ves (Metal Family)

In One Ear ~ Cage The Elephant

Why ~ Sabrina Carpenter

Gold Hour~ JVKE

Billie Bossa Nova x West Coast

[inlovewithgreta]

you are my sunshine

Larissa Weems x Fem!Reader

Chapter Two

Bold letters spelling out 'Principal Weems' were engraved onto a golden plaque on the wooden door in front of you.

Upon entering the room, you are instantly greeted by a tall woman with platinum blonde hair and fiery red lipstick standing behind a large wooden desk.

"The Addams family, welcome back to Nevermore!" She begins, "Please sit, we have much to discuss."

Four leather chairs sat directly in front of her desk. You and Wednesday took the two in the middle with your parents sat in the two outside seats.

"Now, I know the three of us are acquainted," She smiles at Morticia and Gomez, "However for those select few who don't know me," She looks towards Wednesday then locks her piercing blue eyes with yours, "I'm Principal Weems."

You flash her a small but sweet smile while Wednesday gives her a blank stare.

"These are our daughters, Wednesday and Y/N." Morticia speaks up first.

"Yes, Miss Wednesday, we'll talk about you first. Wednesday is certainly a unique name." Weems states as she begins talking to the younger Addams.

You take this time to examine the space around you. Not much decorated the room but the few trinkets that did were definitely statement pieces. Only a few things sitting around the room caught your eyes the most.

Two black crows sat on one of the corners of her desk that seemed to stare at you no matter which way you leaned, a large stone fireplace sat to your left that shone a light golden hue across your face, a massive window sat behind Weems that helped bring in the natural light, and two beautiful chandeliers sat above you that seemed to stick out amongst the the rest of the dark interior.

You bring yourself back to the conversation when you hear Weems bring up the fact that her and your mother used to be roommates back when they were both students.

Wednesday was quick with her witty remarks and you couldn't help but try to hide the smirk that spread across your face when she brought up how Weems still had her sanity intact after sharing a dorm with your mother.

The blonde's blue eyes seemed to notice your wide smirk, glad to know even Morticia's children were aware of the way she acted. She doesn't realize her eyes were staring a little too long until your own pair met hers.

Weems quickly clears her throat and brings her focus back to Wednesday.

Your eyes snap to your long haired mother to your left when she addresses Weems as Larissa. She seemed to think Wednesday had a unique name but to you hers was the more unique one.

It was truly a beautiful name and you couldn't help but wonder where it came from. It definitely suited her, it was a bright name and judging by the way she presented herself, she was a bright person. But this time it was your eyes that were lingering far too long when the blonde seemed to notice you eyeing her jacket.

"I um—" She tries to bring herself back to the topic at hand, "I've assigned you to your sister's and your mother's old dorm. Ophelia Hall."

Morticia was far more excited than you were as she audibly gasped excitedly at the news. It was also no surprise to you that Wednesday knew exactly where Ophelia Hall originated from.

Weems suggests that Wednesday should meet her new roommate, the five of you walking down the long corridors with Weems at the front of the group. Her heels clack at the floor below you and echo throughout the quiet walkway.

Upon reaching Ophelia Hall, Weems opens up a door to a room in which you assume Wednesday will be staying in.

You instantly have to hide a laugh that threatens to escape when you all shuffle in and see the brightly colored room around her knowing that Wednesday was going to hate it.

A small blonde girl with small strips of color in her hair set next to her bed, watching you all wander in. Her side of the room was filled with all sorts of bright colors. Stuffed animals were spread around her area, colorful fabrics draped across the ceiling, and she had a very interesting carpet that seemed to have every color of the rainbow on it.

The girl is quick to get up with an extra pep in her step and introduce herself to Wednesday. It was interesting how the girl was aesthetically more like you than she was with Wednesday and it made you wish you had someone like her as your roommate during your time at Nevermore.

Her name turned out to be Enid, it was a sweet name and she seemed like a sweet girl so it all made sense.

The young girl immediately gets worried for Wednesday when she notices how pale she is, which gets you to chime in.

"Enid, right?" The girl nods, "You see, us Addams tend to be on the more pale side of the spectrum, but Wednesday here just always looks half-dead. No need to worry." You reassure her.

She smiles thankfully at you before attempting to welcome Wednesday with a hug to which your sister instantly takes a step back to avoid.

"She's allergic to color." Morticia tells Enid.

Enid then quickly looks back over at you as you are the only Addams in a bright outfit.

"It took her a long time to stop cutting my clothes. She'll get used to yours." You smile, feeling for the poor girl as she now looks horrified of Wednesday.

"Enid," Weems gets her attention, "Why don't you take Wednesday to go pick up her schedule and give her a nice tour of the school." Enid nods her head with a smile and skips off with a deadpan Wednesday following behind her.

"Now Y/N, why don't you come with me back to my office so we can talk more about your position.." She smiles sweetly at you.

You nod in agreement, hoping now you can get filled in on what exactly your new job entails.

"Morticia, Gomez, you two can go back to your vehicle, I assure you Y/N and Wednesday will be settled in shortly." The tall blonde escorts you out of the dorm and back to her office which now feels a whole lot bigger with just the two of you in it.

Sitting back down in the previous chair you were in, Weems closes the door and walks to her desk, stopping abruptly in front of you to lean back against the wooden edge, taking a seat atop the desk.

"So, Y/N Addams. . ." She trails off for a second, "With that bright colored clothing you're wearing I never would've suspected you were an Addams."

"Black just isn't my color. I think the hair is enough for me." You chuckle to yourself.

"Well, I think it suits you. The hair and the wardrobe I mean. We could use more brightness around here." Her mouth breaks into a gentle smile.

She suddenly crosses her legs and straightens her back as if she just remembered why the two of you came back to her office.

"Now, I know we haven't talked about exactly what it is you are to do as my assistant, but to be honest it's mainly me needing your help around the office or helping me run errands in town."

"That sounds easy enough."

"Yes, but you see Miss Addams, it's best you know now just how demanding a simple task from me can be. One little thing could have a million other things attached to it, and that's just off the top of my head."

"I can do it." You reassure her.

"All of it?" She questions with a raised brow.

"All of it, Principal Weems." You nearly cringe at the formality of the words that leave your mouth.

"Please," She smiles sweetly after a small laugh, "Call me Larissa, you don't have to be so formal."

"Okay, Larissa, I can do anything you need."

You noticed her smile turn into a bit of a smirk that she quickly hides behind a swift lick of her lips. Noticing her reaction, a matching smirk appeared momentarily on your face.

"Good. Now, I've alerted one of the teachers to accompany you to your room and help with your belongings, she should be waiting just out in the hallway for you."

"Thank you." You smiled with a quiet sigh of relief.

"It's my pleasure."

She stands up to her full length, nearly towering over you as she takes a step forward and holds out her perfectly manicured hand for you to take. Quickly scrambling to your feet, you bring your hand to hers and goosebumps quickly form along her porcelain skin at the touch of your cold hand against hers. On the other hand, the warmth from her radiates through you, and sends heat rising straight to your cheeks which doesn't go unnoticed by the blonde.

"Nevermore welcomes you back, Y/N."

—

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[whumpcloud]

Tea With Honey

taglist: @suspicious-whumping-egg @gala1981 @whump-in-the-moonlight @ohwhumpydays @morning-star-whump

content: sickfic, fever, references to creepy/intimate whump, (lady) whumper forced to be caretaker, pills (painkillers)

Of course he caught it from Nicolas. Ophelia doesn't get why her brother is like that with Derian, and mostly she doesn't care, except that it means he won't leave Derian alone, and inevitably this was going to happen.

Except that Nicolas is tired and coughing, and Derian is feverish.

Nicolas snorts through the phone. "I spoiled you."

"Stop being a dick and-!" Ophelia lowers her voice when Derian whimpers. "Just tell me what to do."

"The internet is free."

"As if you would fucking know."

"I use email."

"I had to teach you how!"

"Not the point. You'll figure it out, baby sister."

He's lucky she can't see the smug, teasing smirk she knows is on his face. Ophelia groans in frustration and hangs up on him. Fine, she'll figure it out alone. She feels Derian pulling at her sleeve, whining softly, and it sounds piercing.

"Look, just-" Ophelia exhales. It's not his fault that he's sick. "Relax, okay? I'll get you some water."

Derian clutches at the blankets. He wants to peel off his sweat-coated skin, but more importantly he wants comfort, and in a state like this he can convince himself, just a little, that a pillow or a blanket is a person.

"Stop doing that, you're already overheating-" Ophelia almost growls at him when he tries to snatch the blankets back. "Give me-!"

"Please," Derian whispers, and it isn't even pathetic in a fun way. It's just pathetic. "Please, I d-don't care. Please, p-please."

"Jesus, fine." Ophelia feels… bad. Derian holds the blankets crushingly tight to his chest. "Come on, sit up."

She has to help him up, and it isn't as though she hasn't done it a dozen times, but it's so utterly pitiful that she can't bring herself to enjoy how weak he is.

His hands shake too much to hold the glass, so she sighs, but holds it to his mouth, and lets him tip as much as he can drink down his throat.

"Thanks," he mumbles.

"Stay like that," she says. "I'm gonna… figure out what to do."

"You… don't know?" Frowning hurts.

"Nicky deals with all this stuff!"

"L-Lower your voice, please," Derian rasps.

"Sorry."

Derian's head falls back against the headboard. He needs to think, as hard as it is, and presses his clammy hands to his face.

"Tylenol," he mumbles. "You've got some in the bathroom cabinet. White bottle with the red label."

Ophelia struggles with the child lock. It would be funnier if Derian wasn't desperate for some kind of pain relief. He can feel all his joints when he moves.

He swallows the pills dry, rubs his eyes, breathes out. "Thanks."

Ophelia fidgets. "Is there anything else I can do?"

Derian shakes his head, immediately regretting it when his vision swims. "Fuck."

"Can you walk?"

"If you'll hold me up." It's half a joke.

He didn't actually expect her to grab him under the arms and pull him to his feet. She takes no care dragging him down the stairs, his feet limply hitting every step on the way down. He just succumbs to this now. Even when Ophelia tries to be gentle, which is an oddly increasing amount as of late, she never quite manages it.

She sets him down on the sofa, and the sudden drop makes everything spin. The world feels like a sauna. He raises a hand to try to pull his sweat-damp hair from his skin, and can only weakly brush it back a little before he's overtaken by a coughing fit.

During it, Ophelia returns with the blankets, and tries to lay them over him. Derian doesn't have the energy to even wonder what she's doing when she disappears into the kitchen for a few minutes and comes back with a mug.

"It's tea," she says, holding it out to him. "With honey."

He eyes it.

"I haven't put anything else in it, if that's what you're thinking." She shakes it a little, and some of it spills over the side. "Take it."

It's warm, but a comforting warm, and Derian takes a small sip and holds it in his lap. He blearily watches Ophelia wrestle with the television, a banged-up thing so old that you could plug headphones into it, and then brush the dust from the DVD player.

"What are you doing?" Derian asks.

"Putting on a movie." Ophelia pulls one from the shelf. "Oh. Do you like action movies?"

"They're okay."

"Cool." She shoves it into the player. "It's my favourite movie. Nicky always made me tea with honey and watched it with me when I got sick."

"Is… is this you trying to be nice?" Derian sips the tea again, to keep down the coughs.

Ophelia gives a very non-committal shrug. Is she trying to be nice? She feels bad for him, but on some level it's only because she isn't the one hurting him. If she had gotten sick and he'd caught it, she'd probably laugh at him.

Derian knows that too. But frankly, he doesn't mind. Her awkward arm around his shoulder is better than nothing. Better than Nicolas.

"You're going to spill it," Ophelia says.

Derian tips the mug the other way, hands still shaking, and resolves to just lean down to drink instead of lifting the mug up.

[starfiresyugiohocs]

OC Profile: Iris

Full Name: Iris Ophelia McGinnis. Nicknames: Irey, Petals (by her grandfather), Cupcake (a nickname that happened for a good while from Alister) Aliases: N/a Nationality: American, Japanese citizenship, ⅓ Irish Birthplace: Domino City, Japan. Gender: Female (she/her, comfortable with they/them as well). Sexuality: Demisexual demi/biromantic. Age: 19-21 years old. Birthday: September 7th. Star Sign: Virgo. Occupation: Nursing student -> Pediatric nurse; counter clerk at Kame Game; book seller at Marcie’s Marvelous Books; Pro Duelist. Voiceclaim: Janet Varney.

Hair Color: Blonde. Hairstyle: Shoulder length, very thick and more shaggy than wavy (though it does curl at the ends), has long sideswept bangs over one eye. Eye Color: Violet. Skintone: Pale. Notable Features: Scar underneath her right eye. Typically wears dark, heavy makeup. Pierced ears, two piercings on the top of each ear, a tongue piercing and a naval piercing. Also got her nips pierced on a drunken dare by Maddox. After Season 4, she starts getting various tattoos as well, mainly on her arms, legs and one on her collarbone. Outfit Style: Thrifted goth, usually getting a lot of her clothes second hand or on sale. Lots of blacks, not a lot of room for other colors unless they're accents. Loves a good fishnet stockings and ripped jeans combo. After season 4 and she gets into Dueling in tournaments more and more, her younger brother finally got to go on a shopping spree and get her some new clothes, coming in touch with her roots as Kaiba's big sister but even more goth. Accessories: Silver rings on her fingers she'll find antiquing, choker necklaces (definitely a lot more of the spikey ones early on).

Personality: Very snarky and sarcastic. Suffers heavily from resting bitch face; also tends to not be able to hide it when she does not like somebody. Beyond that, however, she typically struggles with expressing emotions and vulnerability; to the point that not even her siblings have ever seen her even shed a tear. She tends to also bury a lot of her more negative emotions and feelings to "deal with it one day when she's dead". Is absolutely fantastic with kids and animals. Isn't afraid to be blunt when she needs to be and can be overly straightforward. When you've earned her respect and care, she will be the most loyal person in the world. Very much has a caretaker nature and wants to help heal everyone she can and look out for everyone. Tired Big Sister energy as well as depressed broke zillennial energy. Hobbies: Reading, annotating books,  gardening, thrift shopping, collecting Addams Family merch where she can afford it, researching anything and everything, cooking, playing different card and board games with her family. Habits/Mannerisms: Brushes her bangs back during serious talks, easily slips into neutral masks when upset, crossed arms when she doesn't have much to do with them, lip biting, hand holding for small shows of affection, eats cupcakes the way Anne Hathaway does by taking the bottoms off and smushing it on top of the frosting. Likes: Halloween, thick books, fanfiction, motorcycles, cats, history, mythology, small businesses, rainy days, anything mint chocolate, seeing karma work its magic. Dislikes: Rich people, corporate assholes, heights/flying, overly noisy places, animatronics, hard candies, sports, writing essays. Favorite Food: Chicken fried rice, mint chocolate fudge. Least Favorite Food: Caviar.

Deck: Cyber Angel. Signature Card: Cyber Angel Izana. Ranking: Wasn't much for Dueling early on, but after she starts getting into the tournaments, she starts to rank pretty well. As of the moment, she's sitting somewhere between the top 25-50 range I think, but is pushing to get further and further.

Parents: Meredith McGinnis-Butler, Steven Nesbitt (estranged, deceased), Roland Butler (step-father, views as her real Dad). Sibling(s): Henry Nesbitt (half-brother, deceased), River McGinnis (younger sibling), Flora Butler (younger half sister); Seto Kaiba (younger foster brother), Mokuba Kaiba (younger foster brother). Children: Orion Gayle (born right before Season 4). Extended Family: See family tree here. Pet(s): None at the moment, looking at getting a cat. Love Interest(s): Alister Gayle. Extensive Relationships: See post here (coming soon).

History:

Grew up being raised by her single mother. Steven was a very infrequent part of her life early on, and was not a good or loving presence and kept a firm distance.

He disappeared almost completely out of her life after the death of her half-brother, Henry, and after his reaction to her mother finding out that she both had MS and was pregnant again with River.

Showed back up when Iris was in middle school to bribe her mother into letting her and River attend a dinner with his boss, and she met the Kaiba brothers. He tried to arrange a marriage contract between her and Seto, and it became a heated battle.

Tried to put up with it to help keep an eye on Seto and Mokuba, though fought against it the best she could. The boys became like brothers to her and River.

Her Mom and Roland worked to protect the kids and eventually fell in love with each other.

Has quite a bit of trauma from Steven, as well as Gozaburo, during the time leading up to Seto taking over KaibaCorp, all that she took in an attempt to protect her siblings.'

Started taking college credits her last year of high school and even graduated high school a semester early. Went to college on a full scholarship to get her nursing degree.

Meets Alister a year before the story starts when he begins working for KaibaCorp in the IT department (all undercover to try and take them down from the inside) and they end u pbecoming friends and later something more.

[cordiallyhqs]

・.・𓂃۶ৎ ― WELCOME !! we extend our deepest thanks for your gracious acceptance of our invitation to the most dazzling of social seasons. to secure your rightful place among the most distinguished of society, please do kindly attend to the following steps found here so that your standing may be confirmed and your reputation duly polished.

please send your account to the main within 48 hours.

(rose williams, twenty-six, ciswoman, she/her) you do not know me but rest assured i know you, LADY OPHELIA HERMANCE. you are the YOUNGER SISTER TO COUNTESS HERMANCE. you maybe be known for your SELF CONFIDENCE but it is only a mask for the true nature of your STUBBORN ways. however, i am not here to spread slander on the queen’s jewels, though i suspect you are her ROSE QUARTZ. the ton says your name reminds them of UNCEREMONIOUSLY BLOWING CURLY DARK HAIR OUT OF HER FACE, FLORAL PERFUME LINGERING BEHIND, SCRUPULOUS GAZES OVER THE TOPS OF BOOKS. how scandalous! you have been warned, dear reader, that i will prove if this is true and share every last detail. (patches, 25, cst, she/her, no triggers)

(aslihan malbora, twenty-seven, ciswoman, she/her) you do not know me but rest assured i know you, LADY CARIA KARA. you are the YOUNGEST DAUGHTER OF LORD KARA. you maybe be known for your EBULLIENCE but it is only a mask for the true nature of your MISCHEVIOUS ways. however, i am not here to spread slander on the queen’s jewels, though i suspect you are her SUGILITE. the ton says your name reminds them of ; UNHIBITED PEALS OF LAUGHTER, ; IMPISH SMILES AND PERSUASIVE EYES, ; THE WARMTH AND RADIANCE OF THE SUN. how scandalous! you have been warned, dear reader, that i will prove if this is true and share every last detail. (garnet, 30, gmt+8, she/they, no triggers)

(jessica alexander, twenty-seven, ciswoman, she/her) you do not know me but rest assured i know you, LADY ADELAIDE SINCLAIR. you are the DAUGHTER TO MARQUESS SINCLAIR. you maybe be known for your PRUDENCE but it is only a mask for the true nature of your CUNNING ways. however, i am not here to spread slander on the queen’s jewels, though i suspect you are her SAPPHIRE. the ton says your name reminds them of UNFALTERING COMPOSURE, PIERCING BLUE EYES, THE LINGERING SCENT OF LILACS. how scandalous! you have been warned, dear reader, that i will prove if this is true and share every last detail. (daisy, 28, gmt+3, she/her, no triggers)