#like parents could not have picked a worse place for me to be born

[allofuswantgwinam]

my manager talked to me today and i am so sad fr 🤩🤩 I’ll probably end up leaving Kroger unless a miracle happens. I really liked the liquor store and it felt like my life was falling into place but i should never ever think that about my life

[specialgradefckr]

Heatwave: Day 7

tw: explicit content, mentions of past abuse. 6k+ words. Toji/Reader. beta!reader, alpha!toji. hurt/comfort, whump, fluff, toji is kinda pathetic. top!toji, size kink, surprisingly soft sex, extremely domestic.

Prompt: Not everyone has secondary genders, but those who do are considered less than human.

You find him on the streets. A lonely stray, beaten and bruised.

Hair all mussed up, face dirtied, a scar on his lip too poorly healed to be anything but a punishment.

He’s on the floor, propped against the wall in some filthy, dingy alleyway. Covered in dirt, himself.

Eyes half-closed and slowly flitting over his surroundings, like he’s tired but expecting to get hit the instant he tries to sleep.

It’s not uncommon for parents to throw out an alpha or omega teenager as soon as they turn eighteen, if they even waited that long.

Many hospitals didn’t do secondary gender confirmation for minors because the parents would just… leave. Most orphanages were filled primarily with newly-presented alpha and omega teenagers.

And those were the lucky ones. Unlucky alphas and omegas got into worse places. Much worse places. A lot of them stayed around even after adulthood, because what other way was there to work for a living?

Even if they tried to pretend to be a beta, their heat or rut would give them away. Betas didn’t need to go on leave for a week every month or so. Health insurance didn’t cover suppressants if you were registered as a beta, and only betas could get jobs that provided health insurance.

And betas didn’t have the innate urge to mate like omegas or alphas did. Didn’t have the same sense of possession, loyalty, the addiction to their partner’s scent and pheromones that made abandonment impossible.

What they did have was money. All the money, power, and prestige in the world was in the hands of betas.

And if you were an alpha or omega, the best you could do was use your secondary sex to provide the rest of society with entertainment, and maybe get a meal somehow along the way. If you were young and pretty, you might get to live a decent life as some rich beta’s pet.

The stray in the alleyway is a lot older than eighteen. He looks like he’s been eaten alive. Chewed up and spat out once he lost his flavor.

You step up to him and he doesn’t even react to the noise. He’s just sitting there, against the wall, eyes half-lidded and glazed over like he’s waiting to die but still can’t quite sit back and accept it just yet.

That’s the worst part about it all, probably. Because when he was born, he would have looked like a beta, like any other ordinary kid.

Probably to parents who were happy to have him. He might have even had a good life, a happy childhood, a life full of love with a real future in front of him. Until he presented.

He’s a stray, not a wild animal. He had a home, once. Knew what it was like to have a warm bed and a full belly every night. A place to come back to. People who loved him.

A life. A real life, with dreams and aspiration like any normal person – all yanked out from under him in an instant.

An alpha, it looks like. You bend down, sitting on your heels in front of him, waiting for him to notice you. His eyes are narrow, and it’s hard to tell the color –

And then he looks up at you, and you see it. Dark and muddled but the color’s still there. Emerald glittering at you, pick me up, a treasure obscured so only you can see it.

When you reach your hand out, it’s gently, as if not to startle. He just eyes you, wryly, as if he’s too exhausted to be curious about what you’ll do.

You smile. “Hey, stranger.”

Eyes close. Not a threat. “Mmm.”

“Need a hand?”

“If you’re offerin…” He lets his head fall to the side. Not worth the effort to watch you. Some beta lady with a soft heart.

You don’t smell like anything much, not to his burned-out nose, but he can feel your warmth when you lean in closer.

“You got a name?”

Once upon a time, he did. A big name, real important-like, one you might even recognize. Now? Now he’s got nothing.

“Toji,” He gives you, before letting out a hiss as you pull on his bruised hand.

“Sorry,” You murmur, “Let me help you up. Here, like this…”

An arm wraps around his shoulders, tugs him up. It’s impressive that you try at all – Toji heaves his tired, agonized muscles into holding himself up, stumbling along with your support.

You’re doing a pretty good job as a crutch, but there’s no way you can stand his weight for long.

That’s fine. You don’t need to. All he needs is a few days off the streets.

Looks like his luck hasn’t run out completely. Not yet.

-

When you help him in through the doorway, closing it behind you, he slips his shoes off and sets them beside the door, right where yours are.

A stray, not a wild animal. He’s been in homes before, maybe even recently. Just not one he could call his own.

It hurts to think. Almost hurts to look at him, but there’s something achingly handsome about his face.

That half-sly, half-defeated look he’s always got. Those lowered brows and hooded eyes, the cut on his lip that should be mean but just looks scrappy.

He’s an alpha and he’s built like it, but there’s still an unmistakable proudness to his features. A well-defined jawline, strong chin, eyes sharp and fierce.

You’re a little embarrassed at the state of your home. Even in the best of times, you hated doing dishes, and you hadn’t exactly been expecting company. Still, it’s nothing to be terribly ashamed of, even if you apologize for the mess. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“You want to go to a clinic?” You’ve got some pills in hand – some over-the-counter generics, he’s sure – and a glass of water to go with it. “I can take you, don’t worry about the bill.”

Aren’t you just a doll? “Nah. I’ll be fine. Had worse.”

He can see it, too, transparently, how his words pull at your heartstrings. If he plays this right maybe he can get a whole week. Maybe two.

Toji’s always been the gambling sort. You look like a good bet.

“Well…” You think to yourself for a moment, “I think I have a shirt that would fit you, but not much else. I have a bathrobe, too, if you want to take a shower.”

A shower would be perfect, especially if he was going to fuck his way into your good graces. Beta ladies love alpha cock.

“Mhm.” He hums, following you to the hallway and waiting patiently for you to gesture him into the bathroom.

You hand him a robe – probably large enough for him, but extremely fluffy – and a shirt that would probably be a little small on him, but far too large to be a woman’s.

“I, uh, I don’t have separate stuff for guests – feel free to use my shampoo, conditioner, body wash, whatever, I buy it in bulk anyways.” How nice of you to offer.

He was going to anyways, of course. As sexy as the whole wounded filthy beast thing was, women didn’t like letting a dirty guy sleep in their bed.

Even if you were annoyed by it, it’d be a while before that pissed you enough to kick him to the curb. When you did, that wouldn’t be what did it.

A quick once-over confirms he’s pretty bruised and beaten up, but no broken bones. A few cuts here and there that have already stopped bleeding. Every muscle in his body is screaming for him to lie down, hard enough that he almost passes out in the shower, but other than that, he’s all right.

There’s bandaids beneath the sink. It’s more than he usually gets.

When he comes out, clad in the robe and nothing else, he’s kind of ready to collapse.

But what kind of man whore would he be if he didn’t at least give you a glance at the goods? He saunters into your living room, sliding into a plush chair beside the couch you’re currently on.

Your eyes widen gratifyingly at the sight of him, glancing away for a moment in an attempt to stay casual. It’s a little cute, but hopefully you’re not some kind of prude; that’d make things significantly harder.

“Did you find everything okay?” You say, and he notices for the first time a cat curled up next to you as you stroke it gently. It’s bright white and long-haired.

He nods. You notice his gaze, and smile.

“This is Catoru! He’s a huge diva and he loves attention.” A white tail curls around your arm as you pet, swaying gently.

Great. Competition. “Any roommates?” He asks.

To his relief, you shake your head. “I have a guest bedroom, though, you’re free to stay there for as long as you need.”

As long as you need. He’s heard that one before.

It’s all right, though. You’re just a naïve, sheltered beta; you’ve probably never even met someone who would take advantage of your kindness to the absolute fullest extent.

Toji supposes he should be honored to pop your cherry. Right now, he’s not anything but exhausted.

You set a cup of tea in front of him, “You want a snack? I have some protein bars – ”

Sounds perfect, “If you don’t mind.”

He scarfs down everything you offer him, sighing in relief when you bring him a couple more. Sips at the tea, requests a cup of water, drowns several of them before he’s really dead on his feet.

Ah. Clean. Some food in him, some water. This is what heaven must be like.

“My room is just across the hall,” You smile, “I leave my door cracked so Catoru doesn’t freak out. Just let me know if you need anything.”

And Toji feels your smile, all the way deep into his tired bones. Can’t wait to gnaw on it, suck at it, devour every last bit of it until there’s nothing left. He’s always had shit luck but it looks like it hasn’t abandoned him just yet.

He thanks you. The cat at your side winks open an eye to look at him, bright blue and startling against his white fur.

-

He’s left the door open a crack, just in case you’re bolder than you appear.

One of the particularly shit things about being an alpha or an omega is the pack behavior crap. They weren’t meant to be alone, especially while they slept. Made them nervous.

Some kind of pack-bonding stuff. It was hard to sleep without someone next to him. Made him antsy, twitchy, whenever he did sleep he woke up after an hour or so.

Meant a lot of sleepless, painful nights at the Zenin complex. He’d taking to sprinting around the complex, push ups, squats, whatever he could do to exhaust himself so much that he could just lie down and pass out until one of his cousins kicked him awake.

It usually bought him only a few hours, but combined with his alpha genes it meant he grew up built; lean and mean and strong enough to take hits that would kill lesser men.

Lucky him. After they kicked him out he was approached by some tall, scrawny looking omega called Shiu who had a job or two for a strong man with nothing to lose. Money he could blow on food or gambling while he went from one hookup to the next.

He hadn’t heard from Shiu since the last job. Not surprising, since it went worse than expected. In retrospect, if you hadn’t found him in that alley, someone elsewould have.

The thought doesn’t bother him much. Had to end sometime. Every dog has his day, and for a mangy mutt like him, he’d already gotten way more than he deserved. Even life on the streets was better than living with the fucks he shared blood ties with.

Still, as long as he’s in the game, he’s pushing his luck. If he can get you to fuck him, you’ll let him stick around longer, and he’ll get a full night of sleep.

There’s a noise at the door and his excitement rises a touch. He didn’t think you’d be willing to do it this early –

A gentle weight on the bed. Too gentle.

For fuck’s sake!

“Hey, Catoru,” He grumbles, “You’re lucky I even remember a guy’s name. Don’t make a habit of it.”

Catoru, of course, simply curls up next to him, obnoxiously close. His fur is impossibly soft. He should have been named Cloud or Snow or something.

Toji reaches, stroking the bundle of warmth and softness with short, lazy movements. His hands are rough, calloused, but it doesn’t seem to bother the cat any. He just snuggles up and purrs. It soothes his instincts to a degree he finds utterly uncomfortable.

God, fuck, he hadn’t been competition for the cat. The cat was taking pity on him.

Normally he wasn’t so picky about where the pity came from. He was way more popular with the ladies but there was a guy here and there who wanted to try him out.

Those were usually much shorter affairs, though. Women were way better. Took a certain kind of guy to want to fuck an alpha male. A lot of them got off on making him their ‘bitch’, fucking him hard and rough because he had to take it for a place to sleep.

He had enough of that shit at the Zenin complex. This is worlds better.

It’s too good for trash like him, but he’ll take it as long as it lasts.

He wakes up a few times in the middle of the night, but that’s normal enough. The cat’s insufferable, but he’s warm, and soft, and cuddly, which he’s never seen before.

It helps, until the traitor wanders off into your room, probably to snuggle until he decides to wake you up for food.

Bastard. Toji watches him stalk into your room like he owns this whole damn place. Probably jumping right into your arms.

He wonders where the shirt is from. An ex-lover? A male relative? It doesn’t smell like anyone else, but it would probably have belonged to a beta.

You’re living alone, though, which is enough for him. He’s gotten plenty of beta ladies to sleep with him despite having other lovers currently, that’s not a problem.

It’s not like he has to worry about your lover showing up and beating the shit out of him (or you) either – little perks of being an alpha. As long as you paid the bills and wanted him around, that was enough.

There’s a little part of him that always takes an intense pleasure at the thought. Protecting his mate and all that garbage.

Doesn’t matter. He’s just hanging on for now.

-

You’re not sure what food your guest would like, but it’s a good excuse to cook a big breakfast for him and you.

Lord knows, the poor man had an appetite, so you doubt even your mediocre cooking would go to waste. It’s a little embarrassing to have dishes still in the sink, but you’ll do them all at once after you’ve eaten. For sure this time.

Besides, not a lot of ways you could screw up eggs, French toast, bacon, all that stuff. It’s a few minutes of shuffling through things, putting down pans and containers, before you’re ready to get cooking.

You open the fridge, and it hits you. Eugh. Something’s gone off.

Living alone, it happens sometimes. You buy something then forget to eat it before it goes bad. But your fridge is pretty full already…

You look through the shelves, the cases, trying to find what’s gone bad. It’s weird, it’s like the rotten smell just hits you at random times, you can’t seem to find where it’s coming from.

There’s a sudden warmth behind you, like a wall of muscle, as Toji leans over your shoulder, lazily scanning the fridge. He takes one sniff, then reaches deep past a couple jars of condiments and a stick of butter to pull out some cheese.

It’s a soft Havarti, sliced, and you can see the green creeping through it. Bleh.

Toji rolls his eyes as he opens the package up, “It’s cheese, you can eat around it – ”

Oh hell no. You snatch it back and toss it in the trash. The way he’s eyeing it fills you with incredulity.

“It’s not like – it’s not parmesan or whatever fancy cheese that gets mold on it. We can just get more next time.”

“Mmmhmm.” He nods.

He wouldn’t dig through your trash, right? Right??

“Seriously, thank you for picking it out. I was looking for whatever smelled so off.”

Toji was absolutely planning on digging through your trash. Hell if he’d let good food go to waste, but your house, your rules.

“Really? What are you, nose blind?” Beta, he remembers. Not a great sense of smell.

Toji’s always had a great nose. His shitty uncles would hide rotting food around the backyard, and if he was lucky, he could get to it before it was all eaten by bugs or animals.

His cousins would play with him sometimes. Bloodhound. He can still feel the makeshift collar and leash of rope wrapped around his neck. Promises of extra food or clothes if he hunted down a misplaced possession of theirs.

What a chump he was. Took him years to stop falling for it. Ancient history. He watches you shrug.

“Guess so.” Your hand comes up to him, and he doesn’t flinch, but the strike never lands.

Instead, he feels fingers, ruffling through his hair. Softer than usual, since you made him use your fancy shower crap. You have to reach up to get to his head, and you look silly, all stretched like that, but it feels like something in his chest is stretching alongside you.

“I appreciate it.” He almost whines when your hand goes away. “Thanks, Toji.”

That shitty name doesn’t sound so bad coming from your voice. “Anytime.” The words come out softer than he expected them to.

Toji watches for about five minutes while you get ready before he quietly stalks up to the stove and starts the heat on one of the pans. God, he loved some good bacon.

Was a good day when he could snatch some from the family breakfast, even if he got beat for it. Most of the women he stayed with weren’t really the cooking type.

You don’t seem that domestic, either, but with all the food in your fridge it’s obvious you’re trying. You give him a look while you whisk together some eggs, sugar – French toast, he thinks.

“I can get the bacon,” He mutters, waiting for the pan to heat up so he can start laying strips down. “You take the other side.”

“Oh. Oh, sure!” You brighten, smiling at him – what, you’re feeding him for free, but you’re happy he’s helping?

You’re a good person, he supposes. Really good, down to the core, in a way none of those Zenin fucks ever were.

The normal, upstanding sort who went to their jobs and lived their lives without ever knowing what omega brothels were or how alphas were treated as expendable muscle.

You live in a completely different world, one that has barely, briefly intersected his. But he’ll greedily gulp down every breath of fresh air he can get here, even if that means ruining it. Not like he’s ever done anything else.

-

It’s funny, living with you. The funniest part is that it doesn’t seem to stop. It takes him some time to realize that you really meant what you said – as long as you need.

What a chump. A bleeding heart. He’s chomping at the bit to eat it all up.

He learns that you’re a teacher – a professor – at a nearby community college. The pay can’t be that good but the hours are easy, and you don’t need a car – you’re living in some nearby campus-sponsored housing as a part of your employment package. There’s grocery stores close enough to walk to, and a bus for when you need it.

You teach math, or some other nerdy shit. It’s hard not to zone out when you start explaining in depth, especially since you get that excited look in your eyes, and your voice just flows out of you like you’re on a roll.

Before you leave for classes you make yourself a coffee, and you make him one, too. It’s funny, having someone hand him a warm drink without him paying for it first. Funny, seeing you smile and say good morning at the start of the day.

Usually he tried to slink around, stay out of sight unless he knew he could turn things into sex, but you’re not expecting that so he just… lingers.

He used to peek through cracked doors or barely high enough windows to watch TV. Darting out of the way whenever someone glanced outside.

They locked him out, sometimes, like an unruly dog. Can’t have some ugly alpha mutt dirtying their doorways, pissing on the carpet or some shit.

Now, you hand him the remote and show him the channels before you leave.

He watches whatever, until you come home and he bears through your dumb TV shows (Sorcerers? Cursed spirits? Who watches this shit?) and nags you afterwards about your favorite characters, jokes and laughs about them and the plot.

So he catches up when you’re at work, too, just so he can tell you how dumb this Satoru dude is.

God, the guy’s hair is so stupid. And he’s got next to no fashion sense, Toji can already tell (never mind that he is not, by any stretch of the imagination, a stylish man). What a damn tool. Why the hell do you like this stupid beanpole so much?

He tries not to think about why your preferences bother him so much. No use thinking about stuff he can’t change.

The kids are fun, though. Megumi’s smart, even if he’s a bit rough around the edges, Yuji’s too nice for his own good, Nobara is a riot. The Sukuna guy looks like he’s gonna be a blast.

Maybe the show isn't completely irredeemable. You don’t seem to mind his slander of one of your favorite characters, giggling, teasing him, arguing playfully.

It’s fun. It’s fun, and weird, the kind of conversation he’s never had before. Mostly he flirts with women – he does with you, but you brush it off or it flies right over your head – and half-threatens guys. Or he rolls over like a dog to get what he wants.

Doesn’t get to tease people much unless he’s planning on killing them, so it’s a nice change of pace.

He hasn’t gotten his ass handed to him since before you took him in, too. Gets to eat three times a day, or more, even, when you remember to get snacks. He doesn’t ask you but when you see them start to go missing, you start to buy more, ask him what kind he likes best, and it makes him feel funny things.

Lots of things you do make him feel funny. The dumb smiles, for one. The warm meals and carefully made drinks, tea or coffee with cream but no sugar, even though you like yours half-diabetic.

You hate doing dishes, he learns, and quietly he starts picking it up himself. And there’s that smile you make, when you come back home, that look of delighted surprise on your face when the kitchen’s all clean. It’s painfully gratifying.

Same with the litter box for the stupid beast. You’re supposed to change it every day, but you sort of scrape by every other day – with his sensitive nose, he finds it easier to just scoop it every day.

He’s not even trying to help you. Barely sees why you don’t like to do it – Toji’s never minded getting his hands dirty.

He’s been filth his whole life. What’s a little more? This was pristine, compared to sleeping out in the dirt. Compared to getting pissed on, having knives or garbage thrown at him, bruised and bloodied face rubbed in the floor while somebody held him down.

It goes on for so long he wonders if he’s going to lose his edge, starts doing laps around your apartment block. One day you casually hand him a card and ask him to come with you – you’ve gotten a household membership at a local gym.

You don’t visit as often as you should (your words, not his). But you must have noticed him, seen him.

He goes during the day, having nothing better to do, and knowing it’s best to stay in shape for whatever work he may be able to scrounge up someday. He goes to the gym and it’s as weird as living with you.

Punching things, lifting things, stretching and running without his muscles screaming in agony from start to finish, without adrenaline fueling his every motion.

He goes until he’s tired and other folks at the gym give him looks, but they don’t want to fuck him or beat him up. A couple guys glance at him and whoop when he does a deadlift, and he’s really not sure why.

But it’s fun. It’s worth his time. It feels fucking amazing after – he’s all tired out but in a good way, a nice soreness that goes down to his bones and makes him look forward to the hot meal waiting for him at home.

He’s started to cook some, too. Wordlessly helping out alongside you, and then silently prepping things while you’re out.

You hate doing dishes anyways, and it feels good to see how grateful you are to come home to food and a clean home. He doesn’t mind doing it. Doesn’t mind doing any of it, when you look at him like that.

There’s a bit of cleaning to do usually, thanks to some white furry bastard leaving his hair everywhere.

The fuckin cat. What’s with that stupid thing?

He’s never had a pet before, obviously, even scrapped with a few mutts on the streets sometimes digging through the trash.

Once or twice he’d fucked someone who had a pet, and usually it growled at him, if it didn’t cower or ignore him completely. Just alpha shit.

Catoru (god, was he named after that guy in the show?) has a fucking crush on him or some shit. Fucking weirdo.

He walks up to him, rubbing against his leg, purring and meowing to be pet. Likes to be held, too, chirps happily when Toji lifts him up. Lounging in his arms like a little prince-beast he is. Making a home of Toji’s lap whenever he’s on the couch, meowing indignantly whenever he so much a shifts.

The cat meows constantly when you’re gone and Toji wondered at first if you forgot to feed the damn nuisance. But no, you’d never do that to your BABY. Stupid cat.

(God damn. He’s jealous of the fucking cat.)

Nah, the thing is meowing for attention. Wants it bad. Wants his soft pretty fur to get pet, and doesn’t care if it’s some dirty alpha whore doing it.

Eh. Takes one to know one. You did say Catoru was an attention whore.

If he’s got a few treats on hand, if he indulges the stupid animal just to keep it from whining… well, whatever.

-

And then his rut is coming up. Not surprising, since he’s healthy again and fucking lives with you, all domestic-like and shit, like you’re his mate. If anything, he’s surprised it took this long.

Normally when he feels his rut coming up he just finds the first broad he can. He’s got a handsome enough face, a more than impressive form, all he needs is a warm and willing partner.

He doesn’t usually have a problem finding an adventurous beta lady all excited to take a big alpha cock – it’s what comes after that get dicey.

You can’t knot betas, even in the midst of his rut he’s not dumb enough to try it. But his dick is big and he’s been with enough women to know that’s not actually a good thing, at least, not the night after all the “fun”. And ruts last a few days.

His dick’s been bothering him for a while, too, even before his rut. You’re just so fucking hot all the time, so nice to him, so smiley and friendly and you laugh and make jokes with him and shit.

It’s just so easy. He thinks he should feel bad about it, about using you like this, but you’re so utterly unbothered he starts to wonder who’s really winning.

You’re so fucking smart, you and your classes and your routines and your crafts and hobbies and projects. You notice details and act all considerate and shit. Pet him on the head even though he’s taller. Makes him all gooey on the inside and shit.

Blue balls fucking suck when you’re an alpha, and the cock doesn’t help. It’s a disgusting thing, big and swollen and aching, something his cousins and uncles jeered at.

A humiliating handicap that sent him humping and rutting against things like an animal, helpless to do anything but whine and moan and maybe lash out when they tossed rocks or shit at him.

One of his younger cousins liked to kick him in the dick, and another thought of a fun little game where they tied a rope between his legs, and, well –

Shit’s in the past, now. His cock works fine, he’s lucky enough for that. Made him strong, in a way. All those hits, anything could put him on his ass, and he’d get right back up.

It taught him that no comfort was coming, no mate, no home, no warmth, he had to curl up and bear through it, find a way to fuck it out and to not to expect anything but malice on the way out.

It’s not like he’s ashamed of it.

Shame is for people who have the luxury of pride. Toji knows what he is, what he's good for.

But a deep, tiny, stupid part of him is quaking in fear at the thought of rejection. A larger part of him, the practical side, doesn’t want to piss you off and get tossed out.

It’s nice here, too nice, he’s got to keep it going as long as he can, even though he knows your endless patience will run out on him someday.

You’ll look at him and see him for the garbage he is. An alpha, a beast, a dirty animal you’ve taken into your home and fed and pampered until he wouldn’t go away anymore. Garbage to toss out on the street, where he belongs.

One day even the image of you smiling at him will be a distant memory of the days when he had it good.

-

Toji’s gonna lose his fucking mind at this rate.

It’s not like he’s ugly. He knows he’s not ugly. He could accept maybe that he’s not your type, but from the way you have to avert your gaze whenever he walks around post-shower with a towel around his waist, you’re not at all indifferent to his body.

So why the hell won’t you fuck him?

He’s made it pretty obvious that he’s available. Not shy in his body at all. He’s grateful to you, always obedient, never denying any of your request. He’s an alpha, and you know that, you must know that, what he’s good for.

You won’t even ask. Won’t make any kind of mood, send out any signal.

He starts to wonder if you’ve got a partner waiting for you somewhere after all, just far away, and something terrible twists in his chest.

But he’s never had any patience for mixed signals. And this is going to happen no matter what he does, so he might as well say it.

“I’m going into rut,” He says, just to put it out there.

Right away, he sees your body language, little scent indicators that even betas give off. Flustered. Aroused?

“Oh – oh, well. Is there anything I can do to help? To make it easier, I mean…” You trail off, but he doesn’t give you time to be mortified by your own words.

“Unless you want to have sex with me, not much. Just let me get some food and water to wait it out in my bedroom with.”

Honestly, more than he was used to back at the compound. Nothing beat a good fuck, though. And it doesn’t help that you’re pretty attractive, too.

“Oh. Uhm.” He holds back a chuckle at your expression. Too cute. “I – I thought alphas and betas couldn’t really…”

“Oh yeah, you can’t knot a beta,” Toji shrugs, “But having someone with you is the most important part. None of the other betas I fucked have complained.” He was good for one thing, at least.

You look like you want to sink into the ground. “Do you – do you have someone – ”

He raises a brow at you, “If I did, they were a pretty shit partner, yeah? You were the one who dragged me out of that alley.”

“Well, that was just – ” You pause, and god, what he would do to find out what was going on in that little head of yours, “Basic compassion, you know?”

This time, he does laugh. “For an alpha?”

“Well, yeah! You’re human too, right?” You both know that’s not how it works. “And – and still. It’s not like you would have died, right? I was just helping you out.”

He gives you a wry smile. “Right. Anyways, there’s no one else. You’re all I’ve got.”

Oh, he knows what he’s saying. What he’s doing. He’s done it a million times before, but he’s never quite wanted it to work this bad.

Usually women fuck him and then they pity him. You haven’t fucked him yet, and you’re pitying him more than anyone ever has in his entire life.

A better man might be bothered by that. Toji? He can’t get enough.

Watching you stumble for words and stammer and avoid his gaze like prey. It strokes every last instinct he has and then some. He swears he can hear your heart racing, and his knot is starting to pulse in time with it.

There’s a whiff in the air. Tickling his senses. You’re a beta, and it’s faint, but he grins to himself over your stammered answer.

Jackpot.

-

You’re not as shy as he thought you’d be, is his first thought, when he takes you to bed.

You’re smaller than him – most people are – and delicate, breakable, he’s got to be careful. Normally he tries to feel a woman out, see if they like it hard and fast and he can go rough, but somehow, for all his desperate urges, his alpha instincts lock him up when he’s looking down at you.

It’s weird, how strong it is. How compelling. How much he wants to go along with it.

He’s got to do right by you. Treat you nice, make you feel good. Can’t fuck this up when it’s the very first time.

There’s a reason alphas are stereotyped as aggressive, and it’s biting at him now, pulsing in between his legs so painfully he thinks he could die, but Toji’s been on the verge of death before and that doesn’t scare him.

You looking at him with fear in your eyes? Flinching away or crying out? That’s fucking terrifying.

So he kisses you on the lips, works his hands down your body, against your shoulders like a massage. Enough that he can touch you hard but still be tender, still be good to you like every fiber of his being is screaming for him to be.

He’s never been this gentle in his life. Toji is all muscle, all lean performance like a panther, built to kill, but he’s so careful with you, touches ghosting along your skin until you’re humming and pressing back into him.

Taking a large, calloused hand in your own and bracing it over your breast with a bashful look.

And shit, when has he ever laughed during sex? You whine back at him, meeting his eyes as he squeezes and nips �� not even hard enough to leave a mark – and something deep inside him trills at how it makes you squirm. How it makes you smell.

He kisses you again. God, he could kiss you forever. The taste of your tongue on his is the best thing he’s ever tried –

But he knows, when he spreads your legs, it’s about to be the second best.

Your hands bury themselves in hair that’s now soft and well-conditioned.

He feels like a beast, licking between your legs, drinking in your moans and wails as he laves over your clit. He feels like he could devour you forever and not be full. Like he’s going to start drooling any time he ever smells you.

A trained dog, with you clasping his hair like a short leash that he never wants you to let go of. You took him in, you fed him and kept him and cared for him, and now he’s yours.

Since he’s yours, you have to have him. It’s only right, only fair.

He makes you cum once on his tongue, then he fingers you, spreading you open with care and diligence, like any loyal hound would.

Your cunt is the purpose of his existence, the vessel for the knot that throbs agonizingly between his legs, and his pain is the evidence of his complete and utter devotion.

When you cum around four of his fingers, he pulls himself up to rub his cock against you. Spreading your slickness carefully along him. You’re not an omega, but he’s made you wet, his spit and your cum slick against him as he spreads it on himself.

Toji doesn’t think he’d mind being your dog. The thought comes to him as he buries himself deep inside you.

It feels like nothing he’s ever had before, like he’s melting, like the whole world disintegrates until all he’s got left is the wet heat of your cunt sucking him it.

He’d gladly be on collar and leash for you. Be your bloodhound, hunt down anything you wanted. Kill, bite, attack, heel.

He’d learn all your commands and jump to obey them like a trained animal. As long as you’d have him. As long as you’ll let him in.

His knot pulses and throbs just outside your entrance. He doesn’t mind if you can’t let him, in, if you never do, as long as he gets to feel this warmth.

Your arms reaching around him, holding him against you. Little noises you make while he drives into you with religious precision, hitting the best spot. Reaching with his thumb to rub over your clit. Kissing your lips, your cheek, your neck as you babble and moan when you get close.

He cums when you do. Nothing feels better than knowing he made you feel good. Every fiber of his body – muscled, powerful, built to rip and crush, kill and fuck – it trembles at the sight of you. Shivering at a bone-deep pleasure that dissipates throughout his entire form.

Alpha instincts scream at him to dig his teeth into your neck. Soft, unmarked, bared for him. It sings to him. He’s never wanted anything more.

But you’re a beta, and it would hurt you. So he lays kisses where he wants to bite. Suckles gently while you laugh at how it tickles, and smiles and kisses your lips like he can devour the sound of your joy, eat it, keep it inside himself like a light that never goes out.

You hold onto him, too. Like he’s something precious, like you want him here with you. He falls asleep like that, half-buried inside you, head buried between your breasts. He’s bigger than you, but he buries himself inside you, hides away in this cavern of warmth and softness like nothing he’s ever known.

He waits for you to pull away, but you don’t. You never do. He wakes up with you still against him, still snuggling up – the annoying bastard of a cat curled up at both your feet.

Maybe… Toji knows he’s living garbage, disposable, good for a fight or a fuck and then to be thrown away.

But he’d been good to you, hadn’t he? You liked him, for some reason he can’t understand.

Maybe – maybe if he can do just this one part good enough –

Maybe you’ll keep him, anyways.

[ak319]

Weird Yan Cousin x reader (Platonic)

//Warnings: Mentions of prostitution, human trafficking, kidnapping, weird behaviour but not incest, gore)

Your life had taken such a twisted turn for the worse this year, leaving you wondering if you were cursed. First, your parents died tragically in a fire that destroyed their home. Then, you found out your partner had been unfaithful. Since you shared an apartment, you had to move out, but they stayed, and the two of you were still arguing about selling it to split the money.

As if that wasn’t enough, you lost your job just three days after the breakup--allegedly for poor performance, which was completely untrue. None of this was your fault, yet everything seemed to be spiralling out of control. You were teetering on the edge when you received a strange phone call.

It was from someone claiming to be a distant cousin, Nova Salem. The name struck a chord--she was from your father’s side, the daughter of your uncle Ralph. But you had never met her or any of that side of the family. Your father had severed ties with them long ago. Ralph was only his half-brother, born from your second grandfather, Edmund Salem, whom you’d also never met.

Her sudden call made you feel uneasy, but you were desperate for help, and she offered it without hesitation. Pushing aside all the questions swirling in your mind--about your family dynamics, her abrupt contact, and the series of unfortunate events that felt like a row of dominoes crashing--you packed your bag. The next day, Nova's chauffeuse, Robyn, picked you up from your friend's place.

Robyn was an odd one, giving you mostly one-word, cryptic answers to anything you asked. What really threw you, though, was the route she took. You’d assumed Nova lived somewhere in the city, but Robyn just kept driving... and driving.

Now, here you were, standing in front of a massive estate in the middle of nowhere. You nearly jumped out of your skin when Robyn suddenly spoke from behind you.

"Let's get you inside, ma'am." Robyn's voice cut through the eerie silence as you gripped the strap of your bag, letting out a nervous chuckle. "Um, are you sure this is--"

"Yes, it's the Salem estate."

You glanced around, trying to keep your nerves in check. It could easily pass as a horror movie set, noting the distant tree line, the stormy skies, and the endless dirt road behind. Was this even the right choice? Panic started to creep in. What if she's not my cousin and just stalked my family tree to lure me here?! I am so stupid!

"Welcome, cousin."

Your eyes snapped forward to see a tall figure standing in the entrance, finally registering. Nova, no doubt. She stood taller than you, with short, thick black hair neatly styled, wearing a black turtleneck beneath a long cloak-like robe, paired with black pants...and bare feet?

Before you could even react, she closed the distance and pulled you into a tight hug, muffling your greeting and leaving you a bit breathless from the unexpected embrace.

"I can't believe you're finally here! You see this, Robyn?!" Nova exclaimed, her large hand gripping your head and shaking it playfully. "My little sister is here at last!"

Robyn merely nodded and silently took your other suitcase inside, leaving just the two of you.

"S-sister?" you stammered, taken aback. Her eyes gleamed even brighter, if that was possible, the intensity in her gaze at odds with her composed appearance.

"Indeed, my soror," she affirmed, her hands now firmly grasping your shoulders. "I never got the chance to feel the love of siblings, and with all the family drama and stuff, I was always left out. I never had the chance to have any real connection with family. You’re the only cousin I have."

Her words tugged at your heart, though you couldn’t shake the underlying suspicion.

"No other cousins at all?" you asked, cautiously.

"Nope. My mother was an only child. Anyway, let's get you inside." Nova kept her hold on you, gently steering you toward the entrance. Just before stepping in, she paused, making sure you took off your shoes in the porch. "Enter humbly," she said with a strange conviction. "We are born of the earth, and to the earth, we will return. It’s only right that we honour our origin, for soil should never fear soil."

What? The statement left you puzzled, but you decided to go along with it, stepping inside the dimly lit hallway.

Candles? Really?

"Um, why are the lights off?" you asked, your voice slightly shaky.

"Electricity? Oh, I forgot--you’re a city girl," Nova replied, her tone almost teasing. "I'll ask Robyn to have the switch on for your room--the fan, the lights---but the rest of the house operates without it."

"Why, though? In this day and age? Like, nothing at all?"

Instead of answering, she simply let out a low, eerie chuckle, leaving your nervous laugh hanging awkwardly in the heavy air.

"Let me show you your room." Nova's voice echoed down the dimly lit corridor, where candle flames flickered against the walls, casting long, dancing shadows. The mansion’s interior had an unmistakably gothic feel, with dark wood panelling, high arched ceilings and classic, aged furnishings. The air was thick with an old-world charm as if you had stepped into a place frozen in time. The paintings on the walls, though faded with age, exuded an eerie beauty, depicting somber figures mostly of a woman--always the same portrait of her--and forgotten landscapes

You stepped inside the room, expecting more of the same gloomy charm, only to freeze in disbelief.

What the hell is going on?

"Why is it… all… pink?" you asked, blinking at the sight before you. The walls were plastered with Barbie stickers that looked as vintage as the rest of the house. The bed was oversized and covered in frilly pink bedding, surrounded by plush toys that had seen better days.

"Isn't this what girls love?" Nova said with a wide, innocent smile. "Like little sisters?"

You spun around, trying to process everything. "Hold up. I just met you for the first time ever, so can you please stop calling me your little sister? We're cousins and barely even know each other." Your voice rose as you gestured at the pink explosion around you. "Also, do you think I’m 12?!" The moment the words left your mouth, you felt a pang of regret. Nova’s smile faded, and she looked taken aback. Guilt set in as you realized how harshly you had reacted. She had offered you a place to stay during a rough time. Maybe you could have been more understanding and patient, especially considering she provided you with a bed and a roof over your head.

"Oh my God..." For Nova, that was the most adorable thing she had ever witnessed.

"Um... I--"

"ROBYN! ROBYN!" Nova’s voice cut through the air, making you back away nervously. Her gaze remained fixed on you as she continued to shout.

"Yes, ma'am? How may I assist you?"

"(Y/n)..." Nova grabbed Robyn by the collar, shaking her with surprising force. "My sister--sorry, soon-to-be sister--just had her first tantrum! All thanks to you, Robyn, you absolute genius!"

What in the world--is she being excited or just passive-aggressive? You couldn’t tell.

"It’s okay! I mean, I like it... It’s good."

"You do? You don’t want another room?"

"Um, if... it’s available th--"

"No, it isn’t."

"...this is it then... I guess."

"Robyn, get the food ready. My cousin needs her evening nourishment."

"Aye."

They left you standing in the room, utterly dumbfounded. Everything about this day--and about her--was making you feel dizzy. The way she carries herself, the way she speaks--it’s all becoming a blur. Something in your heart warns that this is going to be a nightmare.

But at least you’re not in some serial killer’s clutches, as you feared before entering. Being an only child and living in such a large mansion might have messed with her mental health, but you hoped it hadn’t gotten worse than this.

The sudden flicker of the lights jolted you from your thoughts, making your soul feel like it had left your body. The room’s colour was now painfully vivid, almost too much to bear. Honestly, the dim glow of the candles was easier on the eyes.

You soon found yourself dining with Nova in the grand dining hall, the two of you beginning to learn about each other. Mostly, you listened to her recounting her adventures. It was impressive how many languages she knew and the places she had visited, though she seemed completely oblivious to modern slang and anything related to media, which you found a bit amusing.

"Anthropologist, huh? Isn't it boring?"

"Boring?" She cackled, her laughter echoing through the vast room. "Absolutely not! I get to travel, explore, and find fascinating things." Judging by the eclectic items scattered around the room, she was certainly telling the truth.

"You seem to have a fondness for skulls."

"Oh! Haha! Aren't they so symbolic in their own way? They are empty, yet their hollow eyes seem to gaze into the essence of mortality itself. Each one holds the silent echoes of a life once lived, a reminder of our own fleeting existence and the stories that we leave behind."

"Are they real?"

"I leave that to the admirer to decide. What do you think?"

"Fake or maybe both, judging by how much you’ve explored."

"You think I’d bring skulls from my adventures?"

"Umm..."

Her laugh interrupted you again. "You’re so naive, (Y/N)."

Just as I suspected.

"Anyway, what about your love life?"

"I don't feel attracted to the idea of being subjected to bodily fluids, particularly in moments of passion. " You felt your appetite slip away.

That’s a rather...unique way to say you’re asexual and single...?

"Cool. But doesn’t it get lonely here?"

"Loneliness isn’t something I mind. Besides, I’m not alone--I have Robyn and now you. A little-"

"Cousin."

"Indeed, a little cousin." You picked up your phone and then realized something. "Oh, I need the Wi-Fi password."

"Sorry, but that might not be possible."

"What?! Don’t tell me you don’t use Wi-Fi! That’s atrocious."

"You see, this technology that the youth have become so attached to has many malevolent effects. I cannot let you be subjected to that."

"What do you mean?! I need to find a job! And how do you do your own work?" Her calm demeanour remained unshaken as Robyn appeared behind you, slamming a newspaper down in front of you. The suddenness startled you. What is it with these people and their jump scares?

"This is today’s paper and your source for finding work."

"Are you kidding me? I need Wi-Fi for my job. I do half of my work online!"

"I’ll need to observe the signs this week. If they are favorable, you might get access. Farewell, cousin. Have a good sleep. Robyn, please escort her to her chambers." You clenched your jaw as she walked away. "WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?! WHAT SIGNS?! SO YOU DO HAVE WI-FI?!"

God, what is going on? Is this a fever dream?

You were absolutely enraged in the following days. Apparently, the signs were negative, which meant you were stuck with no FUCKING Wi-Fi!

"Maybe the signs will be positive next month."

Whatever that means. In the meantime, you faced a series of bizarre occurrences that only deepened the unsettling feeling about your stay here and made you question reality. Despite her insistence on not using electricity, the candles lit themselves as if by some hidden mechanism. You were certain she used Wi-Fi--how else would she manage her research and extensive travels?

Her behavior was equally bewildering. She walked barefoot, even in the muddy grass outside during the rain, and would spend hours out there.

Some events left you sleepless for nights.

You once saw her talking to a pillar in the lawn from your bedroom window at night. At first, you thought she might be on a call, but no. She was facing the pillar the entire time. And then there was the incident where she literally smelled your... period.

"Eat this," she said, offering you a bowl of literal pickles. You swatted it away.

"What the fuck, dude?!"

"It’s to relieve menstrual pains. Although not scientifically proven, it is a good remedy."

"I’m fine. AND HOW THE FUCK DID YOU DO IT AGAIN?!"

"Just a matter of having good senses."

In the evenings, she always visited you for tea, bringing her two black hounds along. Despite your protests, she continued to bring them inside. You hated how they always seemed to sniff under the bed, her dark, void-like eyes trained on them as if she wanted them to find something.

Wouldn't want her cousin hiding something, would she? Perhaps thinking she could slip away, unnoticed, back to her old life?

Due to the lack of Wi-Fi, you spent most of your time reading books and exploring the mansion, trying out the strange array of activities Nova had set up for you. She instructed Robyn to teach you various skills like shooting, wrestling, and knife throwing....? You enjoyed it though but yes, you were shocked to discover that Robyn wasn’t just a driver, chef, or butler but seemed to be some sort of retired hitwoman. She never confirmed nor spoke about herself, adding to the mystery.

Despite the chaos and strangeness, you found yourself adapting to this bizarre new routine, almost treating it like a vacation and unexpectedly lifting you out of your depression.

You tried finding jobs but with no success. Every time you found a promising ad, something mysteriously went wrong with the car. It always seemed to break down, as if on cue. The phone in the estate barely worked, with your friend's voice garbled into unintelligible fragments or the call cutting off entirely before you could get a full sentence in. It was as if the house itself refused to let any connection to the outside world slip through.

One day, you had had enough of watching Nova work on her COMPUTER in her study while you languished in boredom.

"Look, I appreciate your hospitality, but it seems I’ve actually found a job, and it's time for me to-"

"You haven’t," Nova said, her voice smooth but chilling as she stepped closer, her face half-hidden in the shadows. "Don’t lie. I despise liars."

"Nova, I’ve had enough of this. I’m sorry, but living here is overwhelming with all the bizarre restrictions, the eerie silence, and the lack of contact with anyone! I can’t stay here. I need to go out and find a job! I didn’t come here to live permanently."

"And you think you have a say in that, cousin?"

"Wha-" Before you could finish, a cloth soaked in a strong, suffocating chemical was pressed against your face. The world around you blurred and faded as you struggled to breathe, slipping into unconsciousness.

"You are not going anywhere, Duif." (dove, in Dutch)

You woke up to the unsettling sound of floorboards creaking and the ominous clinking of metal against metal. Your body felt unnervingly cold, and you soon realized you were bound to a chair with ropes.

"Awake, (Y/N)?" Nova's voice, as smooth and chilling as velvet, made your blood run cold. You shivered uncontrollably as you saw her standing a few feet away. Robyn was in another corner, methodically sharpening a row of gleaming knives.

God, no. This can't be happening...

"Please... Nova, what is happening?! THIS ISN'T FUNNY! Please!" You didn’t care that you were pleading and sobbing in front of this lunatic. Fear clutched at your heart, twisting it painfully. You regretted everything that had led you to this point. You’d already lost your parents, your partner, your job--was your life now slipping through your fingers as well?

"Shush. Don't be scared. I just want you to listen to me. And carefully." Nova said as she grabbed a stool and sat in front of you. Where are we even? Is this some hidden room? Your eyes darted around frantically, taking in the grim surroundings, chains hanging from the bloody walls, a nailed coffin standing ominously in the corner, a table cluttered with various torture tools that Robyn stood beside, and, bizarrely, a fucking jacuzzi in the corner.

"Listen, it's time I tell you the things you need to know. About me, this family and even yours. You see (Y/N), my father, Ralph Salem, he wasn't a good man. He was involved in all types of bad things. Especially regarding...women. I was a teen when I found out he was involved in trafficking girls, the reason he fucked around with lots of women and... young girls, simultaneously abusing my mother mentally and physically. When he caught her leaving with me, he killed her... in front of me. Imagine that, I couldn't do anything." She paused with a dry scoff, "You have seen that pillar right? The devil buried her under it. I couldn't stand it. I wanted to die but he kept me alive because I was his heir, with his fucking disgusting blood inside of me. So I waited, I became the perfect heir for him only so that I could kill him in the most brutal way...which I did," You whimpered at her dark chuckle as she wiped your tears.

"Do you know where you come in?" Nova's voice was icy as she continued. "I began researching you the moment I discovered your existence. I wanted some form of familial love, even after I convinced myself I didn’t need anyone." Abruptly, she rose and moved to Robyn, taking a freshly sharpened knife from her hands.

"Guess what I found? Your parents were my father's business partners at one point. You see these skeletons here?" She gestured to the grim collection. "These are the people I hunt, (Y/N)--the ones my father worked with, those entangled in this... industry. And I continue hunting them. So I did to your parents what I did to all of them. Robyn, show her."

The butler pulled a lever, causing a hidden closet to open. Inside, the bodies of your parents were revealed--half burned, half slashed, with their limbs gone, only torsos-making you scream in horror.

"The bodies at the crime scene weren’t theirs. I used my connections to save them for you--along with another surprise," Nova said, her voice dripping with cold satisfaction as she slid the door open further. There, your partner’s corpse was revealed, grotesquely nailed to the wall like a butterfly, their chest open and hollow, blood eagle...which Nova once told you about. Without warning, you threw up to the side, your legs trembling uncontrollably. You could barely breathe, each gulp of air shallow and shaky, and you felt the world closing in. Please just let this be a nightmare. Wake up (Y/n), wake up!

"Did I mention that I eliminate bad partners too? How could I let them live after what they did to my dear...cousin?" She stepped closer, the knife gleaming in her hand. You shook your head desperately, unable to form coherent words. With a swift motion, she cut the ropes binding you, forcing you to stand. Her gaze was fierce, unyielding.

"You, however , were innocent, unaware of your parent's past. So from now on, you are a Salem. You will live here, as you are meant to." Her gaze darkened. "This is your place, your family. And I won’t have you trying to run away."

You slammed the trunk door shut and turned to Nova, who was meticulously removing her gloves.

"He was quite the noisy one," she remarked with a nod. "Indeed, sestra. Though you did a commendable job tracking him, little nerd. Now, let’s head back. My favourite part awaits in the mansion."

Ah, yes, it was Wednesday--skinning day.

From a software engineer to an assistant to a serial killer cousin with an intriguing butler, you found yourself strangely enthralled by this new life.

‘I want this world to be rid of those like my father, who mirror him in even the slightest way, together with you, my dear cousin.’

(AN: I realised that Nova might have put her own childhood plushies in the reader's room, which tugs my heart😭my baby)

[threepandas]

Bad End: Games Played

As children, we learn to play the Quite Game.

It's rather simple. You scrunch down real small, ball yourself real tight, and find the bestest most hard to reach hiding spot you can! Then? Oh THEN, children, we all get really, REALLY quite. Until mummy or daddy find you. And no matter what, no matter WHO, you Do Not Move, until THEY come and find you.

Not for treats. Not for hugs. Not for threats or scary noises.

No. Matter. What.

To the others, it was a game. But to me? Born just a bit... different? I looked my parents in the eyes, saw the fear that lived there. That hunted them and haunted their dreams. I watched the way they acted. Guarding me. Never letting me wander. Keeping me between them as they slept. Holding me, shielding me. Both whispering their lessons, their love, each moment they could.

And I knew it was no game.

I was an obedient child. Perhaps that is why I lived, where others did not.

Or perhaps? It was my vague, half remembered, knowledge of this world. To be more exact, the chronological series of Otome games, set in this world. Endless streams of political and social clusterfucks, that cast the map into conflict after conflict, all for the selfish romances of a few. Pseudo-historical straight to pseudo-modern magical realism.

Clans of mages. Elves, werewolves, the whole shebang. All trapped in an endless cycle of conflict. Sometimes silent, sometimes open. Always, soaked in blood.

But hey... at least the Protagonist is happy! Right?

We should be furious. We should HATE them.

Our Clan? Did shadow magic. Unfortunately. Because unsurprisingly, Otome troupes ran true, and we? Have a complete Edgy Little Fuckboi as our Clan Heir. Worse still, I RECOGNIZE that Edgy Little Fuckboi! The fucking chuunibyou is a romance target!

I'm sorry, I was under the impression the Clan Heir's job was to KEEP US ALL ALIVE! Not get your DICK WET! But, my bad! My fucking MISTAKE! How COULD I have BEEN so foolish! You go on, then! Just piss RIGHT off, and leave the rest of us to suffer, while you chase SOMEONE ELSE'S GIRLFRIEND!

Fuckwit!

Ha ha.... oh god. We're all gonna die. Aren't we?

We should trust Alphard. No one else understands us.

Everyone? Absolutely fucking EVERYONE? Waves it off. 'Just a phase' and 'he's young, he'll get it out of his system'. As though the problems doesn't run deeper. As though the Clan Head isn't an old man, barely holding us together. As though he isn't planning to hand it all over to a chuunibyou who refuses to sit still and LEARN ANYTHING. Who picks fights he expects US to win for him. Expects US to die for him.

So he can look 'cool'.

Alphard is basicly running this place. But does the Clan Head care? No. Because Alphard is a 'half-breed'. Because ALPHARD has the audacity to be, what? Fire Mage?! Oh dear god! Not ANOTHER GROUP OF HUMANS!? Gasp! Shock! Someone call the fantasy church! Fuckers.

Ooooh but their TEMPER! Everyone knows how UNSTABLE they are!

We should show them 'Unstable'. Make them regret what they've done.

'Bout to see up close and in person MY 'temper' and 'unstable' fuckin BOOT, old man!

No, I don't care if that made sense! Shut up! Fuck you! I get to be upset, okay!? This is nepotism and it's dangerous! And... and NO ONE LISTENS TO ME! It's like they're merrily marching towards a cliff and calling ME paranoid for pointing it out! Telling me to calm down. To stop exaggerating. It's a CLIFF!

The only one who listens? Is Alphard.

Alphard is our friend. Alphard listens to us. We should Trust Alphard.

Storming towards his office, shadows writhing in my wake, I seriously wonder. Would I have gone completely apeshit by now with out him? Left the clan? I don't know how he can bear it. The weight of their stubbornness. Their wilful blindness, which IS going to get people hurt. Killed. Probably already fuckin has.

How many more clansmen do we have to LOSE?

They'd tucked him away in some side wing, like some dirty little family secret. I'd always hated it. Big whoop! He gets two powers instead of one! Jealous ass little shits. It was fear and politics. I KNEW it was! He refused to say so, but I KNEW. And no amount of pained smiles and changing the subject would make me drop it!

It wasn't RIGHT.

God, the more time went on? The angrier I felt about it. The more it burned me. Ate me up inside. It's like my temper just...? Gah! Fuck this and fuck THEM! We don't need them! We should leave! Just the two of us. Go and never com-!

.....wait a second... that's not... right....

My head pounds with the worst sort of migraine. Shadows hissing like angry cats, as they crawled viciously around my head. Chasing whisps of something they can't seem to catch. I stopped between hallways. In one of our Clan's many, MANY shady areas. Leaning more into the darkness... helped. Made my head hurt less.

God, I've got to talk to talk to Alphard about this. It's starting to really worry me. The anger, the snarling flare ups, the dark moods. Not to mention the obsessive thoughts. It wasn't like me. Might be a curse? Maybe. Could be fire magic or related, so he would know. And if not? Well, nothing beats Fire for burning curses away.

....actually, Light, might. But we are A PROUDLY BIASED household here, thank you. So like? Not gonna SAY Shadow magic is BEST magic... BUT it absolutely, totally IS. And Alphard? OBVIOUSLY the greatest Fire Mage alive! No I will not be taking questions, thank you and goodnight.

We should see Alphard, we miss him.

Yeah... yeah I do really miss him, dont I? Where is he?

My head throbs viciously. Ow. It's been getting worse. My control too. My shadows fighting me at every turn. Which? Scares me more. Because YEAH, others? Have been big on the 'beat them into submission' tract of Shadow Mastery. But ME? No, no. I know for a FACT. You can not rule through fear. Not for long.

Bribery and alliances work wonders. Friendships and love. My shadows get FED. They get CUDDLES. I take my shadows for enrichment walkies and give them interesting puzzle boxes to play with. They fuckin LOVE me. Would meat thresher through CITIES if I asked.

So to suddenly Stop Listening?

It means they think I'm... I'm not myself. They are making the executive decision to act on my behalf, to protect me, even if they have to do so FROM me. And... and I don't know what's causing it. Don't know what's wrong or how to fix it. I'm getting scared.

Because something is very wrong.

Everything is fine.

Another wave of vicious hissing, of throbbing pain in my head. This time though... THIS time? I think I felt that. The discordant thoughts. The contradiction. That isn't me. There's something in me head that DEFINITELY isn't me! No there isn't. No WONDER my Shadows are so pissed! Fuck!

I stick to the darker hallways. It helps with concentration, the pain. Whatever is in my head? Is like sticky, burning, spiderwebs. Like trying to grab at thin lines of super heated metal, covered in tar. How... how LONG has it all BEEN there?

You should leave it. You don't know what you're doing. You could get hurt.

Oh fuuuuck YOU. Get out of my HEAD! Where is Alphard?

I stumble down the final hallway to his so called 'office'. It was a guest room once. As a kid, I helped him convert it. Back when the old fuck refused to step down, despite his son and heir, the next clan head, being DEAD. And? AND!? That Heir's fuckin chuunibyou kid being a tiny, insufferable, brat.

We get it! You're hurting! EVERYBODY'S hurting! Your fuckwit parents got HALF THE WARRIORS KILLED! We STILL haven't recovered from that. And Edgy pants goes on and ON about the 'glory of his ancestors' as though? He's not talking about his PARENTS. One generation fucking BACK!

That family ORPHANED me. But do you see ME starting shit? No!

Yet? God forbid the Old Bastard do what's RIGHT for the Clan! No, no! Between a literal infant, a FUCKING ZYGOTE, and a fully grown adult? Better pick the baby! Who CARES that Alphard was the better choice!? Chuunibyou brat is BLOOD! And we CAN'T have the 'half-breed' nephew in charge!

Better connections? More accomplishments? Fully trained and, once again, AN ADULT? All irrelevant. He's too fucking well liked! Too TRUSTED! Too much a THREAT to your precious little legacy and hold on power. So hey, fuck the rest of the Clan! Right? Why would WE need competent leadership!? You can just shove all the work you can no longer DO, on to Alphard.

Force him to rule in all but name. All but honor and title. Spit in his face then tell him to thank you.

Bastard!

He isn't there, in his over crowded office. Piles of paperwork. Empty tea cups, long cold. Mismatched pillows I'd stolen from around the compound, to make it feel less depressing. His classy art pieces mixing with my cheap, shitty ones. The souvenirs I'd brought back, again and again, because I do not forget my friends.

My head hurts so bad. How long has it been building?

Another wave of pain, as my Shadows hissing and growl in outrage, writhing like electric snakes around me. Safe and stronger, here in the unlit office of a friend. They want 'it' out. Hunt and hunt, but can not catch hold. How strong must the caster be? Older then me, probably. Far more experienced. I've been pretty diligent.

They'll stand no chance, though, against Alphard.

He's the best curse breaker I know. Honestly? He's the best at a lot of things. It's been great to learn from him. And he's? Gonna lose his SHIT. He already worries when I go out without him. But to find out somebody slipped a curse on me? Ooooh, shit. I'd almost laugh, if my head didn't feel like it was in a VICE.

Man's gonna feed them their KNEES.

As a PASTE.

.......I wonder, now that I think about it? Looking around the crowded office space? If Alphard has any pain meds? He SHOULD. There's no way in hell, he deals with chronic stupid all day without headaches. He should? Definitely have something for this. Probably. Might not actually FIX it, since it's magic based, but it can't HURT.

Decided, I get up. Slowly. Spread my shadows out. They love doing simple, achievable, tasks. Like 'find the box!' Or 'open this puzzle!', usually for treat rewards. (Cup time, usually. Or bits of my food. But honestly? They LOVE cup time. They like to hide under it and push it around the floor. Each group of them have favorite cups.)

Nothing but paper, cups, snacks, a couple piles of pillows, and a coat I had forgotten. Huh. Maybe his desk? Would make the most sense I suppose. It'd be on hand. Head and neck, one big regret, I stiffly shambled over. Organized chaos. More nonsense and damages caused by chuunibyou and his sycophants, in the name of luuuuuv~. God damn it.

At least no one died... this time.

I tear my eyes away from the top page. The one next to it? Shouting reports. Elves: pissed, werewolves: pissed, everybody: pissed. Guess who's fault? Oh fantastic! So THAT'S why he's not in his office. Probably trying to keep us all from dying. Another report after that. Protagonist-chan.... wow that's unflattering. Word it a little harsher, why don't you?

My eyes absent-mindedly keep scanning, as I look for a med box. Some sort of pill bottle. Something that might hold headache medication. Nothing on top of the desk. Drawer? Should be top right one, right? Since he's right handed? Easiest to reach. Let's see... pens, pens, spellwork paper, brushes, mints, bottle! AaaHAH! I hold it up to what little light there is and squint.

Wow. That's pretty strong. And not just for headaches.

.....should I have a talk with Alphard? Probably. Maybe? Definitely keep an eye on this. Don't wanna be jumping to conclusions, here. Still! Helpful. Down the hatch!

I pop back one of his pills, stealing one of his fancy tea in a can. He may complain, but we both know he won't stop me. Nor does he even mean it when he does. I'm like this sorta needy, demanding, housecat. I wander in, eat his food, tell him to pay attention to me, then wander off. Should have known better then to feed me, that first time~! He got stuck with me ever since.

Briefly a burning wire escape my grip. We should-Stop THAT! I beat it back down. Violently. It's taking a lot more concentration, more pain, then I'd like to admit, to fight it. Damn near wack a mole in my brain. There's no-CEASE! Desist! You are NOT welcome! Get! GET!

The pain meds are definitely helping. A LOT.

In fact...? Huh. Looking around? Without the pain to distract me? Those... aren't my shitty art works. Not the meme-y ones I bought, that I thought he'd like, nor the pieces I made in various art classes. They're just...? Random cheap art.

What the fuck?

Was Alphard ROBBED? Also? Where are HIS pieces? That one with the lady and the clearing? The couple dancing near the lake? That little statue? It's all random snobby fake art. Like someone wanted to give the IMPRESSION that nothing had changed, but had cleared out everything personal...

Alarmed. I looked down at the can I grabbed. It was the kind he offered to guests. Kept for me. Because... because he couldn't STAND it. Too sweet. Tearing the mini fridge back open? Nothing but cheap tea cans and teas he hated remained.

I slammed it closed. Urgently reached for the tea cubbies. Fancy LOOKING teas. The kind Alphard always makes fun of. Quality is in the tea, not the pretty pictures on the box, he says. His tea is GONE. Worse? MY drinks are gone! Why are MY drink-? The coat!

My hand snaps out. The coat flung into it by my shadows. The instant it touchs my palm, I know it is wrong. Too rough and too new. Some modified mimicry that my shadows could tell apart from the original. It's not their fault. They don't have senses like mine. I stare at it, feeling a building sense of panic, before look back up at the room around me.

Is... is ANYTHING where it should be?

Gaze snapping from place to place, shaking as the panic starts to swallow me whole, I realize... No. Not a single thing. It's all staged. Made to LOOK like nothing's wrong. When... when everything IS. Oh god. Where is Alphard? What the FUCK have they DONE to him?!

I drop the coat. The drink. Adrenaline slamming into me like a truck. Slamming the door open, I flood the hallway beyond with writhing, furious night. I AM Shadow and it IS Me. We run. Hunting, hurting, FURIOUS. If they have hurt our friend? If they DARE have-!

A howling whistle splits the night, closer, Closer, BANG. The compound rocks with the force of the explosion. The wards hiss to life like great titans of black sand. Ink dark, they nerely block out all light. Casting eerie spell light over the buildings below, as lights flip on. More whistling. Booms.

We are under attack.

For an instant, I am torn in two. Half of me? Demands I find my friend. They other half? Knows that I must protect the Clan. We stand together or we DIE together. Loyalty wins out. My parents, Alphard, the people I care about, they would never forgive me, if I abandoned my post now.

I turn from my hunt. Race towards the ward stones out front. I'll have to help the others reinforce them. Lend the Clan my strength. As long as they can't get in? We should be-

The wards SHUT OFF.

Even as I run, fast as I can, I watch with horrified eyes... as they slide back away. No. No no NO! They should do that! That CAN'T DO THAT! That's IMPOSSIBLE! Those are SEIGE Wards! Built over generations! Hundreds of mages poured power into them! Went over them with pin prick combs! They don't 'malfunction'!

Oh god. Please, God, NO!

Did someone SHUT THEM DOWN?!

Ahead, the sounds of violence and chaos draw near. Above, I can finally see what's raining down on us. It's war magic. FIRE war magic. Thrown from air ships, who's spotlights bathe the compound in a terrible, all consuming light. All the better, to prevent our Shadows from reaching even a single one of them.

Someone told. They didn't know about that limitation to our powers before. Our front gate! Open! Traitor, traitor, TRAITOR! WHO!?

Across the chaos, the bloodshed and death, familiar color catches my eye. Explosions and spotlights light him from above. The airships blades, kicking up leaves and dust. That familiar, familiar color. From his Father.... the fire mage.

Alphard stands so calmly, one hand still resting on the command stone for the wards. As chaos reigns around him. The pleased little smile on his face, the one he wears, when all his plans come together, ever so nicely. No. Please. No.

His eyes are so cold. So flat.

He feels nothing as they die. Doesn't even glance, at the kinsmen desperately calling his name. Dying at his feet. He... he doesn't look away. Just raises one hand, one finger, and...

"Shhhhhh~ Be. Good." He says, utterly silent in his betrayal.

My world shatters.

I run.

Slamming my palm against the evacuation alarm, sirens begin to blare. It's over. It's all... all fucking over. How could he? H-How COULD-? Grief wants to choke me, blind me, but I don't have the TIME. I have to get out. Survive. I.. I can cry later. Mourn for the friend I THOUGHT I had, later. I trusted him. FUCK, I TRUSTED him!

I skid around the corner, heading towards the closest exit. Gotta grab my bug out b-!

Shadows in the darkened hallway surge, up and over, like a heavy hand slamming down. I barely drag myself out of the way. Lose my footing as I do. Go crashing to the floor. Scrambling, I turn as my shadows hiss, only to be met with deeper rumbling thunder. Shit. No!

I try to get up. Fling my self up into a run. Only to meet a shadow formed backhand. Smashed, thrown. Finding myself slammed back, onto the floor, wheezing. The air knocked out of me. Lightly, dark shapes takes form. Alphard stepping through blank and barren wall, using the Shadows under his control as a medium.

Not a hair out of place.

Just the two of us.

Alone.

"Why the rush, mischief?" He teased lightly, as though my world was not collapsing, all around us. As though my best friend had not betrayed me, betrayed US, to our doom. Up and down the hall, sirens blared. "You look upset."

I snarled. Grief and betrayal twisting into something ugly in my chest. Hand whipping out, I aimed for his fucking throat.

"Ah~, you're mad. Is this because I didn't consult with you first? Mischief, there was so much to do! You know you hate all those boring political meetings. Alliance work and archival research. Sweetie, there were stake outs! You hate those."

Effortlessly, he leaned out of the way of my attacks, looking amused and unbothered as he continued to speak. I RAGED. Screamed. Taking chunks of the wall behind me, to use as projectiles. Anything. Anything, anything, ANYTHING! Just HURT, damn you! TRAITOR! How COULD YOU!?

In the distance... the haunting, damning, final cries of my kin, as the died.

I Trusted You!

"I know~" he laughed, as though nothing had changed. As though this were a fucking GAME! "It was so easy, too."

His voice became two toned in a way that could only be magic. One that was heard, one that was felt. One that... that I had...! Realization did not crash. It seeped, like the cold and fatal poison it was. His betrayal was not NEW... was it? Not SUDDEN.

I... I had been betrayed long, long ago.

No you weren't. Alphard loves you~

How long had he been in my head? He was my magical instructor. I had hated the Clan's main teachers. Right? DID I? Could I even know? H..How much? For HOW LONG?! I was a CHILD! Had no defenses against the manipulations of my mind! Would you really stoop so LOW?! Was ANYTHING real!? ANY part of out friendship-!?

I choked, on the sob I refused to let him have. He... he didn't have the RIGHT.

"Oh, Mischief." He said, sounding mournful as he strolled easily through the ruins I had created around us. "Don't cry. Shhh, shhhh. It's okay, dear. You're upset. This is upsetting, I understand that. But we will preserver, overcome, and together? We will get through this."

We? There was no 'WE'. N-Not anymore. Not after THIS.

"Oh but that's where you're wrong, Mischief." He breathes out, like the confession of the truely insane, his voice soft. Yet, somehow? Bonechilling in how loud it seemed.

"I get you."

"That's the first thing I demanded, after all! No more idiots. No more dead weight. No insults, fools, or brats I can't break! Ha ha! Just me and my Mischief! Free at last! And all it cost me? Was my chains. Best of all? All the idiot Fire brat wanted for it all? Was his 'competition' out of the way! Ha ha ha! Gods bless, usefull fools!"

He stood before me now. Head thrown back, hand over his eyes in disbelief, as he laughed and laughed. Unhinged with his euphoria. With the machinations, that had lead to his victory. And... and I could not recognize him. This... this monster wearing the face of my best friend. I felt numb. Cold and far away. I... I just... I wanted to go away... please, God. Far, far away.

Stop it. Please, Alphard... Stop it...

P-please...

My shadows curled around me. Battered, torn, but ever loyal. They would not leave me. Not even now. Not even to save themselves. Weakly hissing. Thrashing, trying, in their own small ways, to appear bigger and stronger threats then they were. In... in the vain hope that... that the thing that was hurting us? Might believe them.

Might leave me alone.

I had never felt so unsafe, surrounded by the shadows sworn to my once friend. How many times? How many times? Had I fed and played with these very Magics? Snuck them charcoal? Interesting toys to burn? Creatures of fire and shadow. Massive and rumbling, the very Shadows that once played with my own... now tore them apart.

It burned. Hurt. Who...? WHO was this man? This monster? That wore my best friends face? I couldn't... I can't... please! God, please! Don't make me do this anymore...

My mind, somewhere between delirious and screaming, for some god forsaken reason? Reminded me of the Quite Game. I... I wondered, terrified and full of grief, if the children would know to run. Not to wait, for parents that... that would not be coming. Not this time. Not ever again. All because of this man.

The smoke on the breeze terrified me. Everything terrified me. How? How could I possibly hold so much fear? How could there possibly be MORE? Just as I think I can not feel it anymore deeply. Once again, Alphard teaches me I am wrong. This... this is not how he, is... is supposed to be... how WE are...!

"Oh sweetheart, mischief, darling..." He again attempted to sooth, hand slipping away from his face as he rolled his head down to peer at me. Kneeling with almost boneless fluidity. "None of that. No more tears. Alphy's here, okay? I know change is scary. And you're upset and confused. But Alphy loves you just like always, and nothings gonna happen to you, alright?"

"Remember how you wanted to travel before? See those festivals? Go abroad? We get to do that now! Alphy can take CARE of you, now. Properly. Get you all the things you deserve. It'll be great, Mischief. No more stress or tears. Cuddles for days. You'll love it, I promise."

From beneath his feet, spreading like a terrible rot, black fire spread. It didn't touch me. Couldn't, as it seemed to reach, with greedy hands, down the halls. Consuming the only home I'd ever known in this life. Consuming everyone it touched, if the distant sounds of panic, were any indication. He was killing them all. Friend, foe, what difference was there?

Everything burned.

Numb, I could only sit there, before the stranger I thought I'd known.

"Our love story's been a long time coming, sweetness. My perfect, beautiful, Mischief~♡. Once we're free? We'll never look back. Have the happily ever after we deserve. Let the rest of the burn."

"I'm so glad I found you, Mischief. So glad I made you mine. It's going to be beautiful, darling. I promise. You'll thank me."

"Now come here, to Alphy. We're gonna play a game~♡"

[joonieskinks]

drabble: “royally forbidden”

princess!reader x knight!yoongi drabble | s, f | 1k

warnings: swearing, segs, referring to virginity construct, lots of kissingg and touchinggg

a/n: idk why but I love my forbidden love tropes apparently- 👑

“Princess”, Yoongi warns. “What if we get caught?” You cut him off with your lips on his before he can press further. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your love in closer to you. His arms that rested on your waist, now actively bunching up your night dress to get underneath. 

“Then so be it, I’m tired of having to hide who I love.” You kiss his lips again once, only separating from him to look into those beautiful eyes. The eyes of the man you fell in love with all those years ago as a girl. He was always there for you, at your beck and call, whenever you needed him. 

Need help to get on your horse cause you’re too short? Done.

Fetching you a towel for after your bath when you’ve “forgotten” one? Sure.

Assistance with getting your dress’ buttons undone from behind? Happily.

Asking him to take your virginity before your arranged husband-to-be can? Oh, wow- but yes, definitely yes. 

You were raised together, albeit different upbringings and purposes in life, but he was always by your side. Of course you appreciated his help with the many things in your life when your servants weren’t around (or more likely, you wanted to flirt with him), but as you got to know him, you fell in love with the real Yoongi. Your literal knight in shining armour. 

Well, that is until the doors were closed, locked and the sun was down. Then he was more like your knight out of his armour and into your bed. 

Yoongi tugs your dress up and over your head, leaving you completely bare before him. Despite being with you for years and now seeing you naked for months, he still feels just as painfully strained against his pants as the first time. Truly, he feels like the luckiest man in your kingdom. 

“If your mother sees us, she’ll hang me for sure.” Yoongi kisses your neck as his hands begin to untie his pants. Your hands find their way under his nightshirt, silently begging him to take it off as well. He rolls his eyes as he can almost hear your pleading whimpers, taking off his shirt and discarding it across your locked room. 

You giggle in victory, touching his chest and relishing the feeling of his exposed skin. Yoongi only smirks, watching you gasp as he picks you up from under your thighs and whisks you over to your bed. He lays you gently down and places himself between your thighs. You moan at the sight, you loved seeing him in a position of power over you. Despite being a knight, he was born to be a king in your eyes. He would be your king, if you had it your way anyway. 

“Surely not, my father will stop her. He’s always had a soft spot for you.” You tease, hands reaching down and playing with the strings of his pants. Yoongi takes the hint once again and releases the strings so his pants fall to the ground. Finally, you're both utterly free of any material that could stop you from having each other. 

Although not exactly free from social restraints, such as you finding a proper prince to be your husband- but that hasn’t stopped you. You already found your love, and you plan to always have him. Royal or not, you’ve made your choice, and you're willing to be forsaken for it despite your royal parents declaring otherwise.

For Yoongi? Anything.

“You’re being very naughty, my princess.” Yoongi teases, lowering himself to kiss you, humming into your mouth, full of content. You’ve been teasing him all day.

“Fucking your knight, and not your prince-to-be...” He mutters, and grasps your body close to his, one arm around your waist and another up by your cheek. You know he feels possessive towards you, and you would feel the same. If his mother and father wanted him to marry another woman, you’d feel the exact same, if not worse. And so, this is how you show him you’re all his. 

“Take me, Yoongi, please. I’m not going anywhere, I’ll only ever be yours. You know that.” You reassure him, kissing up his jaw and back to his lips. You feel his length poking at your core and the tip brushing between your wet folds. Moaning, you push your hips against his to try and get more friction. 

Without a second more to lose, Yoongi pushes himself into you and your hands are grasping at his back, overwhelmed by his size once again. 

“You’re mine, princess. No matter who or what comes.”

//

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Could you write something where the reader is a singer or musician who performs in the village during events, Donna sometimes watches her and is very entranced by her talents? It takes a while but eventually Donna gets the courage to talk to the reader, and it turns out the reader has been noticing Donna attending her performances as well?

You are awesome btw, thank you for feeding us!!

Yesss!!!! thank you for your support, it's really important to me :')!!! Thanks for your request too!!! I hopr you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

Songs to the heart

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Singer! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Donna being Donna

Word count: 7,468

Summary: Maybe your talent is not a waste of time....

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“I'm coming, mother,” you sighed, attending, as always, to your tasks.

With the laziness, and at the same time with the tranquility of living a new day, you decided to obey like a good girl, to dedicate your life helping your parents with everything they needed.

You couldn't do anything else.

In that lost, sinister village, there was no place for people like you, people who saw much more than a life of work and sacrifice, of devotion and servitude. Consenting, but always a dreamer, you decided to accept the destiny that the Black Gods imposed on you. You didn't believe you had an alternative either.

Work, pray, rest, repeat. Three words that were always repeated, that accompanied you every day. You couldn't complain and you didn't.

But deep in your heart, you knew that your existence had a different meaning, a purpose that no one had asked of you. The days were gray, dark and empty of logical meaning. You didn't question that boring reality, but unfortunately, the talents you were blessed with forced you to do so over time.

Art was always something foreign to your family, to your friends. None of the villagers would be able to value the melody that came out of your lips every day, the whole nights you spent listening to the same vinyl over and over again, imitating that beautiful voice.

Even music seemed something foreign to that place. It seemed distorted as it bounced off the old walls of your home, as if the village itself despised that wonderful voice.

A waste of time, a useless hobby... Your parents had many words to define your talent for singing, for imitating that voice without the slightest problem, for the words to come out of your mouth in a melodic and smooth, perfect way.

You couldn't blame them for their lack of interest in your innate ability to sing, in the harmonious voice you were born with. They never lived in the village, they always lived for the village.

A preposition, a single word could change the entire meaning of a sentence, distorting the reality of hard work, of sacrifices, of the lack of interest in your curious hobbies. Living in the village, living for the village. So different and so similar.

Lamenting, thinking or rambling about what would have become of you if you had been born outside the protection of the Black Gods stopped being funny a long time ago. You could dream of leaving that place, you could dream of singing your songs freely, doing only that, singing, and not accompanying the art of your voice with some tedious task.

But you didn't care. Over the years, you learned to settle for those small moments, rehearsing a concert, some songs that only you would hear, that only you would applaud.

In that dark village, who needed an angelic voice? No one.

“(Y/N), it looks like the weather will be worse today, I need you to pick up the sheets I hung up,” your mother said with a kind smile.

You had heard terrible things about some of your friends' parents, the jobs they forced them to do. Even some of them ended up in the worst possible place: serving in the castle.

You were sad about the life you had been given, but luckily, tedium, boredom and lack of interest in your voice was the only thing you could complain about.

Your parents were kind, good people, faithful workers who would do anything so their little girl could keep spinning that record one more day and not end up serving one of the Lords.

“Of course, right away, mother,” you said, nodding complacently, watching the movement of those sheets through the window. “Although I still don't understand why you hang them outside, it's terribly cold here,” you commented, amused.

“The coolness is nice,” the woman said. “Do you remember what you used to say when you were little? You said that…”

“Yes, that it smelled like snow, I know, mom,” you said, rolling your eyes, picking up a bucket to put the clothes in. “I don't say those things anymore, I'm 20 years old.”

“I know, but I like to remember it,” she replied, winking at you.

You laughed again and walked out the door, shuddering from the chills transmitted by the soul-cutting cold of the village, one that seemed impossible to you that would ever leave that place. As you did your task, your throat worked on its own humming those repeated songs, letting time pass a bit faster, following the swinging rhythm of the clothes on the ropes.

Without realizing it, that little stutter turned into a whisper, and the whisper mutated into a voice, a soft, spaced voice that couldn't help but sing.

“Quand il me prend dans ses bras… Qu'il me parle tout bas…” you sang slowly, taking down the clothes, letting a smile add even more melody to that beautiful song. “Je vois la vie en rose…”

A subtle dance accompanied the music of your voice while folding those sheets with your eyes closed, improving your intonation, the pronunciation of that French completely unknown to you.

The clothes were disappearing and your voice was a affected by the cold of that morning, but it never mattered to you.

“Des ennuis, des chagrins s'effacent… Heureux, heureux à en mourir…” you continued singing, picking up the bucket already full of clothes, guiding yourself with the song to move, without making noise but at the same time, attracting attention.

It wasn’t an assumption. You never thought that there was someone else there, that someone was listening to you. Paralyzed, you dropped the clothes in the cold snow, your voice distorted, unable to finish the melody.

Your body paled and your gaze remained firm for a few moments, assuring yourself that you were accompanied, and it wasn’t your imagination.

“M-Mother Miranda,” you whispered with a lack of melody in your voice, finally lowering your head.

In front of you, there stood probably the culprit of the life you led, the undisputed leader of the village, servant and prophet of the Black Gods, your only Goddess. Mother Miranda was a divine priestess, the human incarnation of those dark deities. Certainly, you never believed that this woman had the slightest right to call herself a human being.

At that moment, this winged, black and gold figure stood before you with a smile, without speaking, but with her grey eyes fixed deep within your soul.

“Please, continue,” the woman said with a soft voice. Soft was not synonymous with harmless.

You didn’t know what kind of sin you had committed or what kind of blasphemy your parents had carried out to earn you punishment, or the privilege of her presence.

“E-Excuse me, Mother Miranda, but…” you stammered, deciding which of the human postures you would take at that moment, what attitude your body would take in the face of danger.

Flee, freeze, or face the threat… You opted for the second option.

“How curious, I had a meeting this morning… Well, about your unquestionable devotion, dear villagers,” the priestess commented, without wiping that horrible smile off her face. “And when I leave there to get away from my children's constant fights, wow, I hear a beautiful voice coming from this place.”

“D-Devotion, Mother Miranda?” you asked, lowering your head even more, ignoring that half-veiled compliment.

“Mm,” she murmured, nodding disinterestedly. “It seems you have a talent for singing, little bird.”

“Um, I…” you stammered, looking for your mother with your eyes, who, due to the not-so-subtle presence of the raven woman, had left the house, bowing submissively.

“Relax,” the blonde woman said, with a slightly harsher tone. “Come with me.”

The priestess turned around, gesturing for you to follow her, under the frightened gaze of your mother.

“Mother Miranda, have mercy,” the woman who gave you life murmured, being ignored again by that dark presence.

Your silent walk was like a way towards death, towards divine punishment due to something you still didn't know you had done. Your steps trembled, but they were forced to continue to a place under the ground, a place forbidden to villagers like you.

In that kind of chimera that debated between being a crypt or a cathedral, the Four Lords of the village stood. They were all together. It was an unthinkable sight for someone like you unless it was some special event. Of course, you had never had them so close.

Alcina Dimitrescu, Salvatore Moreau, Karl Heisenberg, and Donna Beneviento, the four of them sat around that strange altar, murmuring until they noticed the silly village girl walking next to Miranda, you.

“Is it a gift?” the metallic man joked, lowering his glasses to kill you with his gaze, one that you immediately looked away from.

“But what do we have here?” Dimitrescu murmured smiling disturbingly as you passed. “A new maid?”

“Maid, maid!” Angie, the inseparable doll of the youngest hierarch, Donna Beneviento, shouted waving her arms comically in her owner's lap. “Shut up, ugly thing!” the puppet shrieked again, annoyed, just like you, by the foolish laughter of the deformed Moreau.

“Are you done?” Miranda asked, in a tired tone, indicating that you should stand in the middle of the room, resting her cold hands on your shoulders. “Well…”

Your gaze was one of terror, of panic at that sinister vision. Your eyes traveled through the darkness of those figures, towards the black veil of Lady Beneviento, one that, for some reason, didn’t hide that her mysterious face was looking at you.

You turned your head away uncomfortably from those invisible eyes and, in an involuntary act you got closer to the priestess, who cleared her throat.

“I think I've found the answer to the problem I mentioned to you,” the blonde said, with a surprisingly authoritative tone, looking at you out of the corner of her eye. “Here it is.”

“A girl? What a way to solve it,” the man with the hammer complained, unpleasantly. “Look, she's cute, but… I don't think the villagers stop missing masses just to want to see a pretty face.”

“How vulgar,” Dimitrescu protested, shaking her head.

“Vulgar!” Angie repeated, with a tone that made you cringe even more.

“Silence, please,” Miranda protested, rubbing her eyes. “My dear, what’s your name?” she asked to you, making you come out of your trembling for a moment.

“(Y/N), Mother Miranda,” you answered softly, with a voice cracked by fear.

“Mm, well, (Y/N),” the priestess repeated with an indifferent tone. “It turns out that, (Y/N) has something that the other villagers don't have, and well, that you don't either.”

“Brain?” Heisenberg asked, pointing again at the lady of the castle.

“The girl knows how to sing very well, doesn't she?” Miranda said, fixing her eyes on you again.

“I-I guess so,” you said unsure.

“Don't be modest, I’ve heard you,” the witch mocked in a tone that was meant to be funny.

“Mm, the girl sings well, what’s you point?” Alcina asked, sighing at his brother's constant mockery.

“Surely you, Alcina, remember that 50 years ago we had a girl who enlivened the masses with her heavenly singing... What was her name?” Miranda commented, without letting your shoulders go.

“Maika,” the tall Lord answered.

“That's it,” the witch said. “Well, after that time, I have decided to resume that tradition and you, my dear, are the chosen one.”

“M-Me?” you asked confused.

“Come on, don't be shy, keep singing,” Miranda said, pushing you a bit closer to the middle.

It was horribly difficult for you, but, making a great effort, squeezing your eyes tightly, you were able to sing the ending of that beautiful song. As expected, your voice was shaken by fear, but apparently it was more than enough to surprise those present.

You hadn't asked for it, you didn't expect it, but your life changed in that instant.

You stopped being the insignificant (Y/N) to become a claim for masses, how? Well, by doing what you knew how to do best: singing.

Obviously the hymns to the Gods and the heavenly chants were very different from the songs you used to sing, but at least the talent that seemed useless was no longer so.

With Miranda's help, you perfected those new songs, beginning to liven up the village masses, making your voice resonate among the walls of the old chapel. Having so many eyes looking at you, so many ears listening to you was overwhelming at first.

Little by little, you got used to having the whole village in silence, to hearing your own voice singing to the Gods, to receiving increasingly timid applause. You could have blamed your parents for their lack of faith in this divine gift, but you didn't.

You received nothing for lending your voice to the odes to the Gods, you simply received Miranda's respect, something that might be worth more than money, but it wasn't enough to support your family.

As expected, they never stopped you from acting under the priestess' will. It was your obligation, one you couldn't escape from.

“May the Gods protect us,” Miranda said, ending the weekly mass, allowing you to finally get down from that altar.

“(Y/N),” a villager said, an old friend of your parents. “Let me tell you that you've been wonderful.”

You smiled embarrassed and nodded, putting your hands in front of your body and bowing your head.

“T-Thank you,” you stammered, greeting the rest of the villagers, who said goodbye to you with kind words. “It's nothing.”

“Hey, we were thinking that you could stop by Luiza's house this afternoon, you know, to give us a concert.”

“A concert?” you asked confused, looking towards one of the windows, where you thought you saw something strange.

In that small window, you thought you saw a sinister look, eyes that were staring at you. They weren't human eyes, nor were they those of a monster. The word porcelain echoed in your head.

 It couldn't be possible but it seemed to you that there, behind that small window, was that sinister doll you had seen at the meeting, Angie.

“(Y/N)?” the man insisted, taking you out of that little hypnosis, making you shake your head.

When you looked at the window again, that doll was no longer there. Surely you had imagined it. The day you were at that meeting had left quite a mark on you, especially that disturbing doll.

“Oh, um, y-yes, I guess,” you said nervously not quite understanding what that man had asked you, glancing sideways at the priestess, who was doing the same.

What at first seemed like an isolated proposal, became a routine.

That useless talent began to bear fruit: impromptu concerts in a house, a medley of songs during a festival… Little by little you became some kind of a star. The people of the village rewarded your voice with small tips and very soon you began to perform in an old meeting house.

You thought that perhaps it was a coincidence. You believed that this euphoria at hearing you sing was due to the lack of art in that place, to the privilege that only the Lords had. Well, it was a pretty accurate definition to describe your success.

You couldn't make a living at it, but at least you were good for something other than helping your mother with her chores.

Two or three nights a week, you sang for them, for those people with boring lives like yours. The silence was reassuring, the glances were fleeting. It took you a while, but you soon got used to that little big change in your life.

The rows of chairs were filled with people. Sometimes there were more, sometimes there were less, but there was always someone. In the crowd you could see your friends, the girls you knew who hadn't had the misfortune of going to the castle. You were popular even if you didn't want to be.

But apparently, you weren't just popular with the people of the village. Every night you performed, there was the same pattern, one that could be mistaken for the frescoes, for the decor of that old assembly hall. A black stain always waited in the corner, a misshapen stain that you could barely make out.

It could be an illusion, an optical effect, but you could even see that shadow moving, that beneath it there was something that must have been familiar to you. One of those days, the shadow changed places and you were finally able to give it a name, even a last name: Donna Beneviento.

That mourning and mysterious woman in black was always there. You didn't know many things about the youngest of the Lords, but you didn't want to know them either. You knew she was dangerous, that she was a mentally ill woman, that anyone who dared to enter her territory would never leave.

With those rumors in your head, your eyes began to look for her presence in the place. They began to locate the lady in black to watch over her. It was no illusion. She was there every night you sang, always, without missing a single day.

Interest in your voice? A music lover? A silent watcher sent by Mother Miranda?

You didn't know what it was exactly, why every night she was there standing away from the crowd, listening to you. You also didn't know why that apparition seemed that curious to you, why your eyes wandered around every corner before starting or finishing one of your little concerts.

That presence stopped being cautious, that figure stopped scaring you. Simply, like everything you did, you assumed it as a routine. You didn't ask questions, at least not every day.

Others, you imagined what it was that caught her attention, what mistake was waiting for you to make her to attack and punish you for disobeying Mother Miranda.

“Well…” you sighed, picking up the books that helped you with the songs, removing the disc from the player, staying alone in that place that was crowded with people. “Another day, (Y/N)…”

That last sigh led to a nervous gasp. Somehow, you didn't feel the comfortable solitude that always accompanied you at the end of a concert. You felt like someone was watching you, observing you.

“Hello? Mr. Sponic?” you asked, thinking that maybe it was one of your usual admirers, turning slowly to observe the tranquility of the place.

You got no answer and shrugged, gathering your stuff and turning off the light, a terrible idea.

Before leaving through the door, the light returned to that small stage, revealing that, in front of you, was that mysterious figure, that lady in black holding the Angie doll.

“Oh,” you gasped in surprise, instinctively stepping back. “La-Lady Beneviento,” you sighed with your hand on your chest.

“Hello, hello,” the doll said, moving her hand comically.

As much as it was funny, you didn't see it that way. With your hands in front of your body, you adopted a defensive position, lowering your gaze as much as possible.

“I…” you sighed nervously, looking everywhere and nowhere at the same time. You knew her presence wasn't a good thing, you knew that, in some way, she was there to punish you, on Miranda's orders. “I'm sorry.”

“What are you sorry about, silly?” the doll asked, tilting her head curiously.

“I-I swear that those songs aren't contraband, the, the Duke sold them to me and... I know I don't sing hymns but...” you stammered, believing that your music was the reason for the punishment; music far from the Gods, one that you never believed was forbidden, until that moment.

“Oh, shut up, what are you talking about?” the puppet said, interrupting abruptly.

“I...I...what am I talking about?” you asked nervously, scratching the back of your neck, wishing that figure would disappear immediately.

“Are you stupid?” Angie asked again, stretching a little more to look at you more closely.

“What? Oh, I, yes, or no, I don't know, am I?” you asked nervously, causing the lady to also move her covered head, tilting it in the same way as the doll.

“What's wrong with you? Are you feeling sick?” the puppet asked again in a mocking tone.

“It's just that... It's just that I, I don't know...” you said, trying to clear your voice. “Did Mother Miranda send you?”

“Miranda? No,” Angie answered, shaking her head in amusement.

“Oh, um...” you stammered confused. “I thought, I thought maybe you were... Watching me...” you admitted, trying not to look at the lady's covered face, directing your words to the doll.

“Watching you?” she mocked. “No, silly, we came to hear you sing, as always.”

“Hear me sing?” you asked even more confused. “I thought...”

“Ugh, let's go Donna, this girl is an idiot,” the doll commented, tugging at her owner's dress.

You blinked, slowly raising your gaze.

“You have a beautiful voice,” a hoarse voice whispered, one different from the doll's, one that entered your ears, confusing them.

“Oh, I... Um... Thank you,” you whispered in a small voice, nodding. “Oh, sorry, thank you, my lady.”

“Mm,” she murmured, nodding slowly, elegantly. “I come here every day to hear you sing.”

“Oh, um, yes, um, I've noticed, I always see you in a corner or... Well, I thought it was my imagination, but...” you stammered awkwardly, looking away, making a shy laugh to come out of the black fabric.

“No,” the lady replied dryly. “Stop stammering.”

“I'm sorry, my lady,” you apologized with an elegant bow. “I'm not used to receiving praise from someone... Someone like you.”

“Mm, how curious, because Mother Miranda seems to have a lot of appreciation for you, as my sister does,” the lady whispered, shifting uncomfortably. “I suppose she's already asked you more than once to be her maid.”

“Oh, you, you mean Alcina,” you said with a fake smile.

Yes, the lady in black never missed your concerts, but Dimitrescu used to stop by from time to time.

“You haven't accepted her proposition,” she commented, with a seemingly calm voice, which had the opposite effect on you, making you nervous, making you tremble with terror.

 Was that it? Your refusal to be Dimitrescu’s maid?

“No, I... I don't have much money but I like being with my family,” you answered sincerely.

You had heard rumors, but you didn't know to what extent they were true. You should be careful.

“I have a proposition for you too,” she said, interrupting your thoughts.

You nodded, unsure.

“Um, okay, my lady,” you said in a whispery, fearful voice.

“I want you to sing for me,” the lady said in a stern, almost impatient tone.

“For you?” you asked involuntarily. “What do you mean?”

“Are you stupid?” Angie rebuked, shaking her head again. “Donna, are you sure that…?”

“Taci, Angie,” the lady murmured, going a little closer, forcing you to take a step back.

The doll protested, crossing her arms and grumbling.

“I'd like you to sing for me, in my house, just for me, do you understand?” she asked again, slowing down the pace of her words.

“Oh, um, well I, I don't make private concerts, it's just that…” you said, afraid of retaliation.

It wasn't an absurd fear of a fanatic, you just didn't want to go to that house. You knew that whoever went there would never come back.

“Mm,” she murmured, not giving importance to your answer. “Va bene…” she sighed, turning slowly, without the slightest sign of disappointment or anger at your rejection, something that made you think about it.

She didn't seem insistent like Alcina, and you didn't think it was a bad idea at all, you were just scared.

“Wait, my lady,” you said hastily, putting a hand on the lady's shoulder. She pushed it away with a sharp, unpleasant movement “Oh, I'm, I'm sorry. I... I didn't mean to be rude, it's just that... Well, I should help my parents, I have a lot of work and...”

“I understand,” she said, with that mysterious voice.

“I mean, I...” you stammered.

“I was thinking of paying you for it, but I respect your decision,” the doll maker said with a somber tone, walking back towards the exit.

You, thinking about that new offer, pressed your lips together.

Why would she pay you if she was thinking of getting rid of you? Could you really come back from that house? Why pay a victim? Alcina didn't offer you money, Donna did. It was a notable difference, one that made you wonder if you should really accept.

“W-Wait,” you interrupted again, making the lady turn around with a tired sigh. “I... It's, it's okay.”

“Tomorrow, at 5pm, at my house,” she said, fading away like a ghost, walking slowly until she disappeared from your sight.

Your parents didn't understand this new job, or this new opportunity. Fear was present in their eyes as well as in yours. Just like it happened with you, the mention of money changed their mind.

With fear, with apprehension, unsure of what exactly the lady wanted from you, you set off at the agreed time, arriving at this majestic mansion, one that no one remembered, one from which no one returned.

“H-Hello…” you stammered when the lady slowly opened the door, with her faithful Angie in her arms.

Without responding to your greeting, the woman stepped aside so you could enter the old mansion, so you could be captivated by its old walls, by the gloomy and sad atmosphere of that place.

Holding your faithful vinyl in your hands, you looked at every corner and at the portrait of a beautiful woman on the stairs.

You didn't know if it was a real portrait, if it was from the past, or from the present, but, of course, it was what caught your attention the most.

With a tired gesture, the lady ordered you to follow her through that dilapidated house, indicating a small corner for you to sit down.

“What did you bring?” she asked curiously, reaching out her hand to take the record you were holding, without warning, making you move nervously.

“I-It's… Well, it's the record I use for my concerts, at least one of them,” you explained, with the doll's cold eyes piercing your thoughts, even thinking that she could read them.

“Mm, Édith Piaf,” Donna murmured, giving you back the vinyl. “You have a good reference.”

“Actually, it's, it's the only record I really have at home,” you said with an amused tone. Unfortunately, you were unable to see a smile or an understandable expression from the lady in black. “I-I started singing with it.”

“It's not the only thing you sing,” she commented, more as a statement than a question, making you feel even more uncomfortable.

“No, but…”

“Well, well, well,” Angie interrupted. “You've talked too much, silly girl, Donna wants to hear you sing.”

“Yes, I… Do you have a record player?” you asked nervously, following the lady's instructions, who forced you to stand up in front of her while she sat down to look at you, snatching the record from you again.

“I'm coming, silly,” the doll said, taking the record from its owner's hands and walking to the old player while you tried to calm down.

Stage fright was never a real problem for you, but the situation was different. One person, one woman, was listening to you. Not just any woman, but a Lord, the most dangerous of all, the doll maker, Donna Beneviento.

You failed your first attempts, but in the end you had no choice but to draw strength from where you didn't have it, forgetting about the situation, listening only to the music, singing to overcome the voice of the original singer, making the music illuminate the cold darkness in that old house.

Once you started, it was easier to continue. The doll clapped with each song, but the lady didn't move. Donna kept her hands on her knees, almost as if she didn't exist.

You wondered if she did it to not make you more nervous or if on the contrary, she was like that. After all, that thing about her not being right in the head seemed true, but you couldn't help but think that maybe people were exaggerating.

As you sang, the feeling of danger disappeared, as if you were really sure that night, you could sleep at home and it wouldn't be the end of your days.

“Aujourd'hui, ça commence avec toi…” you finished singing, with a surprisingly perfect tone, totally in time with the orchestra of the original song, with a masterful voice, unthinkable for a situation like that.

“Good, good!” Angie shouted, clapping effusively. “Bravo, silly!”

“T-Thank you,” you said shyly, making a perfectly rehearsed bow. Seeing that situation as just another concert was a trick that worked perfectly for you.

The record stopped spinning, finally marking the end of that private concert, the strangest of your life.

The lady in black slowly stood up, taking the record and giving it back to you. It seemed as if she hadn't heard you, she didn't express anything with her movements. You were even worried that she wouldn't have liked it.

“That last song…” Donna commented, passing by you leaving behind a terribly intoxicating scent of lavender, one that made you blink. “Either you have a prodigious voice, or it's one of your favorites.”

“Well, well, it really is, my lady,” you said a little blushing. “I like it a lot.”

“I see,” she sighed, searching in a drawer for a large bag of coins she threw at you in an unpleasant manner. “You don't regret anything, do you?”

“S-sorry, my lady?” you said confused, holding that heavy bag. There should be a lot of lei in there, too many. “Wait, I think, I think it's too much money, I've barely sung for an hour…”

“Excuse me, (Y/N), I'd like to pay you much more. That voice is worth all the money in the world,” she commented, leaving you petrified, with your cheeks burning from the compliment.

“Oh, no, my lady, um, thank you, my lady, but…” you stammered, giving her back the coins. “I can't accept it, it's too much.”

“Accept it, you ungrateful silly,” Angie snapped at you, taking the bag from her owner's hands and throwing it back at you.

“Oh, I…”

“You haven't answered me,” Donna said, interrupting your juggling with the coins.

“Um, did you ask me something?” you asked confused, frowning.

“I asked you that if you don't regret anything,” she repeated with an impatient voice.

You looked at the doll, which laughed amused by your confusion.

“I don't understand what you mean, my lady,” you spoke in a low voice, feeling that unpleasant sensation of danger again.

“The song, girl, the song you sang,” Donna said, crossing her arms, sighing abruptly. “Je ne regrette rien”

“Oh, that, that's what it says?” you asked curiously, shaking your head.

“You didn't know that?” she asked.

“N-No...” you sighed embarrassed.

“How can you sing something you don't know the meaning of?” the lady in black asked, curious.

You, avoiding looking at the clock, shrugged, feeling suddenly very small.

“I, I just sing… I'm not good at languages, I've never learned French, but, but I can sing… I can repeat it,” you explained confused, embarrassed by your ignorance.

“Oh, really?” she asked, with an amused laugh, walking back to the player, rummaging through the records under the cabinet and taking out a few and handing them to you roughly.

“I'd like to test you,” she said in a soft voice while you glanced at these new acquisitions. “Rehearse some of these songs.”

“But, but…” you stammered, reading the titles in your head, not understanding them. “Is this Italian?”

“Mm, my family was Italian,” the lady explained, with an elegant movement of her hands, placing them in front of her body, patiently holding them. “I'm convinced that if what you say is true, tomorrow I could hear my native language in your beautiful voice.”

“Tomorrow?” you asked scared, looking up.

“Yes, tomorrow, I want you to come back,” she said, walking you to the door. “Will you come, (Y/N)?”

“Um, I…” you murmured confused.

“You can say no,” she said, sighing. “I won't hurt you.”

“Oh, I wasn't thinking…” you said hastily, noticing the lady's angry tone. “I didn't think that…”

“Shut up, I know what everyone thinks of me. I'm not surprised you're afraid of me,” she interrupted you, with a slightly harsher, annoyed tone.

“It's not that... I, I don't think that...” you stammered again, shaking your head. “You're kinder than I thought...” you said, not quite knowing why.

“Kind, how silly you are,” the lady murmured, with a nervous laugh.

“Silly, silly,” Angie repeated, pointing at you amused.

“Um, I... I'll think about it, Lady Beneviento,” you whispered.

You didn't have much to think about. Seeing your parents' faces when they received the bag of coins, you knew what your silent response was going to be.

Once again, your life took an unexpected turn. Your little night concerts were followed by little visits to the Beneviento estate, sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon, sometimes accompanied by the fading sun.

Testing your own abilities, you listened to those new records that were unknown to you until then. You rehearsed their songs and repeated them with the lady in black, who nodded in approval of your progress.

The days were different, strange. What you always thought was a one-way trip to that house ended up becoming an increasingly pleasant routine. Donna wasn’t a talkative woman. She was demanding, abrupt, but kind. The cups of tea began to be silent companions after each concert. The conversations were increasingly pleasant, more curious.

There was something between you two that you weren’t able to see, something that pulled you closer to her, that forced you to walk faster, to want to return when you had barely left.

The interest, the admiration of the lady for your talent should be enough for your fragile heart, and it definitely was, perhaps too much. The rumors about that woman dissipated over time. You no longer heard the villagers' gossip about their problems, about the people Donna had made disappear.

Every day was a new time with Donna, a new time in which "my lady" disappeared, in which your voice could finally pronounce her name.

“La notte insegue sempre il giorno… Ed il giorno verrà,” you finished singing as always, one of the songs the lady lent you, in her language, one that you also didn't understand very well, but you sang perfectly.

“Great, silly, great!” Angie said, applauding effusively along with the lady, who did the same in a much calmer way.

Yes, her reaction to your voice also improved, making small gestures, always silent, but showing her admiration.

“Thank you,” you said with a sincere smile, approaching the lady to make a funny bow, followed by a yawn. “Oh, I'm, I'm exhausted... I should go, I have to play a concert in the meeting house and...”

“Wait, (Y/N),” Donna said, slowly getting up from the chair, grabbing your wrist, which was already going straight to grab your bag. “I, I'd like to ask you something.”

“Oh, um, well… I don't mind singing a little longer, but, but I have an appointment with Mr. Sponic in an hour and…”

“Forget about that jerk, stay for dinner with me, please,” she said, surprising you, making you open your eyes and your throat go dry, something terrible for your voice.

“But, but I… I don't know if…” you said, trembling at her sudden closeness. “I have to…”

“You don't want to have dinner with me, just say it,” she said, with her head down, with a sad tone you didn't quite know how to interpret.

“It's not that, it's that… Well, I have an appointment with my fans and…” you said, excusing yourself, finding the proposition strangely pleasant.

“Donna is your biggest fan!” Angie shrieked, waving her arms at the lady, pointing at her comically. “Have dinner with her, silly!”

“Oh, I'm flattered by that, but…” you said unsurely, with a smile that crossed your face involuntarily. “W-well, well, I guess it won't matter if I call him and tell … I don't know, that I'm sick.”

“Why lie? Tell him the truth, that you're going to have dinner with me. He'd never dare to object,” the lady in black said, with an informal tone, as if she was sure of her words.

“Oh, well, he wouldn't believe me,” you said amused.

A small moment of silence tensed the atmosphere until, from the black veil, a soft laugh came out, a beautiful laugh that you weren't used to hearing. You unconsciously wondered if you felt the same sensation with her laugh that she did when she heard your voice.

But… What were you thinking?

“Call him, I'll go down to prepare dinner,” she said in a whisper, invading your personal space again, intoxicating you with her lavender perfume, one that was more and more irresistible.

You obeyed, staying alone in the mansion. When your nerves began to attack you, when you called to excuse yourself, you began to wander around the mansion. Feeling out of danger, you ran your hands over the dusty books, over the cracks that distorted what was once a beautiful home.

The next victim of your blatant scrutiny was the portrait on the wall, that cold and stoic look that could make your heart stop. Those eyes were watching you. They matched the lady's soft and melodic tone. It couldn't be anyone else and she, she was really beautiful. You didn't know if she looked still that way.

After a short wait, the lady came up again, carefully setting the table, laughing at the sight of you and shaking her head.

“I thought you had left,” she commented, guiding you to a chair and helping you sit down in it chivalrously.

“Oh, no, why would I?” you asked amused, surprised by the delicious aroma of the food.

“They always do,” she murmured, in a somber voice. “Wine?”

“Y-Yes,” you said nervously, extending your glass, revealing the trembling of your hands.

“Stop shaking, you make me nervous,” the lady ordered you. “I've already told you that I'm not going to hurt you.”

“I'm sorry,” you apologized, bringing the red liquid to your mouth, savoring it slowly so you wouldn't have to look at her.

“Do you think I want to have sex with you? Maybe that's what worries you,” she asked again, making you choke on your drink.

No, no, no, no, no, no. Of course that hadn't crossed your mind, not many times, almost never, or almost always, maybe, who knows.

“Um, no, I'm not worried,” you said self-assuredly, wiping yourself with a napkin.

“No? Do you want us to have sex?” Donna asked, amused, to which you shook your head, not quite sure why.

“Um...”

“Relax, I'm joking, bring me your plate,” she said, bringing a bit of that delicious dinner to you, thus beginning one of the most tense and silent moments of your life.

“It's delicious,” you said after a few minutes, smiling elegantly. The lady wasn't eating, as if she was waiting for something. “You’re...? You're not eating?”

“I don't want to disgust you, I'll wait for you to finish,” she said in a cold tone, lowering her gaze.

“Disgust me? Why do you say that?” you asked curiously. “Eat, it's going to get cold.”

“You wouldn't like me to take off my veil,” she commented, crossing her arms. “Eat, don't worry about me.”

“You don't know that,” you murmured with a cautious look. “I, I thought my voice was horrible before… Well, I became famous.”

“That has nothing to do with it, beauty is not subjective, (Y/N),” the lady said, with a haughty tone, with an increasingly marked accent. Her chest rose and fell quickly, as if she were really nervous.

“I don't think so,” you said sincerely, trying not to make your curiosity too obvious.

“Mm,” Donna murmured, bringing a trembling hand to her veil and slowly removing it.

The beautiful woman in the portrait was no longer on the stairs, but in front of you. One bright eye, one absent, covered by a horrible scar, black hair, surely soft, tender lips and a dangerous look.

“Do you still think it's subjective? Do you want to ruin dinner with some more stupid comments?” the lady said enraged, clenching her fist tightly on the table.

Your already deactivated danger detectors were louder than ever.

“Soltanto adesso io ti guardo… Nel tuo silenzio io mi perdo… E sono niente accanto a te,” you sang nervously, looking away, letting the music speak for your true thoughts, letting your voice calm her nerves, showing that what you thought was true.

“You’re singing… does my appearance make you that nervous?” she said, with a look of disgust and annoyance, putting the black cloth back on, making you move quickly.

“No, wait, Donna, wait…” you said hastily, grabbing her hand so she wouldn't cover that beauty anymore, so you could contemplate it, even if it was just for a single moment longer. “I-I sing because my words would be absurd without a melody, because, because by singing I can say what I think.”

“Mm, liar…” she said, with a sly smile, dropping the veil on the floor and slowly getting up, walking towards you in a threatening manner. “You don't understand what you just said.”

“I do,” you said confidently, lowering your gaze to the floor, feeling a thin finger lifting your chin, a bright eye scrutinizing your gaze. “I don't sing anymore if I don't know what the lyrics say, I… Hey, I've been learning.”

“Oh, how nice,” she said, with an ironic tone.

“I did it for you,” you said, whispering, admitting that eagerness for knowledge motivated by the lavender, by the sweet tone of her voice, by her comments, by her admiration, by everything that Donna was beginning to mean to you.

“For me…” she said, letting your chin go and shaking her head. “You were looking forward to getting out of my house a moment ago.”

“No, actually…” you said, standing up when the lady turned her back on you, nervous but determined to let your haunted heart speak. “I didn't want to stay because… Because I could spend the whole night singing for you.”

“Mm?” she asked with a murmur, turning nervously, looking at you with a frown. “I could spend the whole night listening to you.”

“Donna, I…” you said nervously, getting a little closer to her, taking her wrist, a gesture that she didn't lose sight of. “I like singing for you more than for the rest of the villagers…”

“Why is that?” she asked, distrustful, playing with your hand, making your fingers intertwine. “Are you really stupid?”

“I guess so,” you said with a sigh, getting even closer. “If loving you makes me stupid, then I am,” you confessed without wanting to, you said the words out loud, the feelings increasingly present in your head.

Yes, you were in love with her, and you couldn't help it.

“I lied to you, (Y/N),” Donna whispered, not moved by your words, also approaching slowly, bringing her other hand to your cheek, without stopping to look at you. “I really want to have sex with you”

“Oh, wow,” you said embarrassed, blushing again. Your nervous smile faded before her serious look. This time, she wasn't joking.

“Not just that... I want to hear your voice all the time, for you to sing for me, only for me. I want to be the luckiest woman in the world, the only one who can hear your voice. It's all what I want in my miserable life, (Y/N)...” she whispered, with a look that was tender and dangerous at the same time.

“What I want is... to kiss you,” you murmured, dazzled by her words, by the reciprocity of feelings that you considered absurd.

The words ceased to have importance. Your lips came together slowly, without haste, inexperienced, fragile, clumsy lips that tasted like wine. The movements were joined with her hands on your waist, with her sighs, with those kisses that were increasingly deeper, more sincere.

That night was the first of a new phase, one in which you couldn’t live without those lips on yours, without her caresses. That kiss was the moment when a new life began for you, when you could finally say that you would live the true vie en rose…

[rainnmaybank]

Safe once again

vance x reader (GN)

masterlist

navigate my blog

warnings!!: mentions of bad parent relations, breakups

like most nights, this one was miserable. rain poured down drenching the aura around. y/n was wet down to the bones. small flows of lightning swam through the clouds lighting up the surrounding.

it seemed to be fight after fight, i didn’t matter if it was with their parents, friends or best friend. no matter where they went arguments sparked and burned them.

that night was worse then it ever had been, her mother spoke words she knew she didn’t truly mean. y/n never forgot words spoken out of anger.

the words rang through their head over, and over, and over again. “maybe you should leave, all you’re doing is annoying everyone”

in y/n’s mind that translated to we don’t like you, we don’t want you. like being kicked out by the only people you ever loved, heart wrenching pain snuck it’s way though their veins the farther they ran.

no particular place in mind, y/n just needed to get away from it all.

the storm rolled in quicker, wind picking up and thunder rumbling closer. the grab-n-go. of course that as the only place still open at this time of night.

y/n pushed on the door, ringing the bell over their head mixed with the howling noise of nature.

there was nothing they could do but wait for the storm to lessen. roaming around the store to seem busy, boys pushed and shoved each other around the infamous pin ball machine. she knew who was there.

y/n kept their head down, tear stained cheeks didn’t mix well with fluorescent lights.

eventually y/n had came face to face with the last aisle, the end showed the boys whom had been making all the noise.

y/n paced themselves walking down that row, not wanting to reach the end to quickly.

to say y/n was sad was an understatement. anxiety crept through their veins now, all that they had know just threw them away. deep sense of dread flooded their mind, heavy thoughts ran like a river. feeling how it felt to no longer have unconditional love, nobody ever realizing how damaging that really is.

every step brought them closer to the end, pace after pace. their mind never silenced. it spoke so loud they hadn’t noticed how close they’d gotten to the boys. stopping themselves before running into them.

y/n raised their head only to be faced with the one and only boy who’d ever broken their heart.

vance.

for a moment it was like the whole world had stopped, their mind stopped, the sounds muffled in her ears.

he was exactly what they needed, what they missed. even if both of them were chaotic, they brought unspeakable peace to mind.

like starting death in the face, beautiful calming death. their worst nightmare but only need. they didn’t dare to speak a word in fear their voice would fail them.

like stabbing in their heart, pain intensified over their body, they weighed heavy to the ground.

vance glared over feeling the presence of someone not in his little group, a smug look covered his face till he noticed it was y/n.

his hands stopped playing as his mind lost focus, friends behind him confused looked at eachother then over at y/n, reading the room they stepped away from the two.

vance stepped away from the pinball machine examining y/n’s face as he approached them.

“you’ve been crying” damn those fluorescent lights. y/n spoke lightly “no i haven’t, it was the rain” they waved their hand towards the window. “yeah right, i wasn’t born yesterday y/n, what happened?” his hand moved brushing stray hair from their face

the warmth floating off his body was enough to crack y/n, tears swelled within their eyes once again, parting their lips and taking a deep breath y/n went to speak

vance stepped closer rubbing his thumb over their cheek, his voice was gentle in a way you hadn’t heard in a some time “tell me what happened” y/n slightly leaned into his hand as they began to speak.

“my mom…” was all they got out before the water works hit, that was all vance needed to hear pulling them into a tight hug.

vance waves bye to his friends as he took y/n out helping them into the passenger seat of his truck.

knowing the last place y/n would want to go was home, he took them to his place. his parents weren’t home.

y/n glazed outside watching rain drops racing down the window, the lightning light up their small town in ways it never had before.

stormy nights are just like stormy thoughts.

vance had brought them inside, handing them clean dry clothes and starting the shower, y/n was chilled to the bone from the cold drops of the sky.

he waited for them outside the door, sat against the wall thinking to himself.

the bathroom door creaked open to reveal a much warmer looking y/n, his heart skipped beats at the sight of them in his clothes once again.

pushing himself from the floor his body moved faster then his thoughts as he embraced them.

y/n had no fight left within, falling into his arms.

a safe place that never seems to run out of safety.

that’s what he was for them.

vance took them back to his room, “get comfy i’ll be right back” y/n nodded, exhaustion filled every inch of their body, back clashing into the mattress their eyes laid heavy.

it wasn’t long before vance had returned handing them a glass of water and a plate with their favourite cookies on it.

y/n smiled sleepily accepting his offer

they spoke few words as they shared cookies, warmth finally wrapped around the pair as y/n’s eyes closed small hums coming from their lips, vance smiled to himself taking the glass from their hands placing it on the nightstand.

he turned off the lamp beside him, wrapped his arms around y/n he sighed holding their body to his own.

vance was at peace once again.

y/n was safe in her mind.

[callsign-dexter]

Never Again

Request: hey love I just saw your angst starter sentences list and I don’t know if you are still doing it so if you aren’t just ignore me lol I have a few so you can pick and choose(or if you don’t like any of them you don’t have to do them no pressure)

maybe with Maverick and daughter you could use this one

-i’m never going to let [her/him/them] hurt you again.

Starter- I'm never going to let [her/him/them] hurt you again.

Pairings: Maverick x Daughter!Reader, OC!Nichole Bradshaw x Daughter!Reader, Maverick x OC!Wife!Nichole Bradshaw

Warnings: angst, bullying

Masterlist

miscellaneous angst starters

A/N: Thank you to the person who sent this in! The same request from the same requester that had three different starters. The other two fics can be found here: Jake Seresin x Daughter!Reader and Tim Bradford x Daughter!Reader.

A/N 2: Goose is alive in this one.

Your father Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell was married to Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw’s sister, your mother Nichole Bradshaw, they got together shortly after Goose introduced them to each other when he and Carole Bradshaw had dinner and invited both of them over. After 6 months of dating, they got married and then Carole and your mother got pregnant at the same time, Bradley was born a day before you. When you and Bradley were introduced to each other the two of you became friends fast and could go to one another when you needed someone and your parents weren’t available. You both became a brother and sister to each other, despite being cousins. You both were always with each other after school. 

You and your mom have a great relationship. She was so fun and happy to do things with you even if they were ridiculous. She was basically the female version of Goose but then again, they were twins so it made sense. You and your father also have a great relationship. He matched your wild side and the two of you got into a lot of trouble with each other but you both would smile and take the punishment. Both of them were smart and that smartness carried on to you basically you were a perfect mixture of Mitchell and Bradshaw. 

School and you never mixed well, always the new kid and never staying in one place to actually make friends, you had Bradley and that was the only true friend you had. You also didn’t like school because of all the jocks they had and they weren’t nice to anyone and if they were then there was something up and you had to watch your back. You were really smart which drew a lot of attention to you especially from the jocks, they had pressured you into doing their homework just so they could get good grades and so they didn’t get kicked off whatever team they were on. Bradley saw this happening and tried to help but you just pushed him away and he never once walked away from you. The jocks never became violent and you were thankful for that. You had promised Bradley to keep a secret and as much as he didn’t want to he agreed but he alway voiced his dislike for it.

You and Bradley were 16 years old now and just started Junior year. Your fathers had gotten a permanent position at Top Gun and were loving it. This had been the longest you both had been in a school. You both had made some friends but none of them were as close as you and Bradley. The pressure of doing the jocks homework had gotten worse and it was the senior jocks who were the ones doing it. Again they hadn’t gotten violent but you had turned a couple of them down especially when they wanted you to do an essay for them is when they started to become more forceful and you were getting scared and there was only so much that Bradley could do to protect you. When they got forceful you got scared and said you would do it. 

It was a Thursday morning and you were dreading getting up and going to school but knew you had to and plus Bradley was going to be there so that made it all better. Your alarm had gone off and you just laid there thinking of all the possible things that could go wrong. You must’ve laid there for a while because your mother was coming into your room with a frown that said she was concerned. “Are you ok, honey?” She asked stepping you into the room and going to sit on your bed. 

“Yea. Just don’t want to get up.” You told her looking at her with your blue eyes. She smiled and chuckled.

“We all have those days. Your dad made some breakfast and he set some to the side for you.” She said running a hand through your brunette hair, hair that was identical to your dad’s. 

“I’ll be up in a minute.” You told her and she smiled and kissed your head and then got up and headed out of your room as you started your routine of getting ready for the day. You sighed knowing what the day was going to be like and you were not looking forward to it. It didn’t take you long to get ready and then you were heading downstairs into the kitchen where your dad was. He looked up and smiled.

“Good morning, Sunshine.” He said with a radiant smile that never failed to make you smile.

“Morning, Daddy.” You replied back to him and walked over to him and he kissed the side of your head and then he handed you your plate. 

“Hurry up and eat. Your Aunt Carole will be here soon to take you and Bradley to school.” He said and you nodded as you sat down and began eating. You took your time eating and this made your parents worry, you weren’t their peppy little girl. They gave each other a look and had a silent conversation to talk to you later after school. There was a knock on the door and your mom went and opened it to reveal Carole, Bradley and Goose. They greeted each other and then they were walking into the kitchen as you were putting your plate away. You greeted them and when they noticed you weren’t the peppy little girl that they knew they frowned and grew concerned. Bradley gave you a look and you looked back at him and you both had a silent conversation. 

“Alright guys! It’s time to go!” Carole said in her usual happy voice and you grabbed your backpack and kept your eyes down as you headed to the car with Bradley following when you both got outside leaving the adults inside, he stopped you and turned you around to face him. 

“Are you ok?” He asked

“I have a feeling something bad is going to happen.” You said 

“Maybe you need to stay home. Say you’re sick.” He said and you shook your head.

“I’m sure it’s nothing. Everything is going to be fine.” You said and he gave you a look that said that he didn’t believe you but didn’t get to say anything else because the adults walked out of the house. Goose and Maverick didn’t have to go in today due to the jets being grounded for routine maintenance. Carole, Bradley, your mom, and you got into Carole’s car and then the three of you were heading to school. When you arrived you, all bid your goodbyes and I love yous and then Bradley and yourself were heading into the school.

You expected to be hit with the football team but for some reason they weren’t around and you sighed in relief. Bradley and you had the same class schedule so it worked out that he was like a bodyguard to you and you both were ok with that and you both had the same friend group.

It was nearing lunch when you saw the team and you tensed up and Bradley saw this “Hey, Mitchell!” They yelled out and you hesitantly turned around to them.

“Brody.” You said with caution. He was the captain of the football team and had money so he thought nothing applied to him.

“I need you to write a paper for me for history.” He said and you looked at Bradley and he gave you a look that said ‘don’t let him do this to you’ and for once you listened.

“No.” You said and that surprised Brody but he quickly replaced it with anger.

“What do you mean no?” He asked stepping up to you but you held your ground.

“I mean no. I’m done doing your homework and essays for you. You can do them yourself.” You said no sure where this confidence came from but liking and Bradley was smiling.

“You don’t tell me no. You’re doing my essay.” He said pushing you into Bradley. He helped you steady yourself.

“She said no, Brody. She’s done being your puppet.” Bradley said, standing up for you.

“That’s not a decision for you to make. You need to tell your boyfriend to stay out of this.” Brody said, turning his attention to Bradley.

“He’s right. I’m done. Also, he is my cousin.” You told him and that made him turn to you quickly and you thought he was going to break his neck with how fast he turned. He grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed you into the lockers making you hit your head and see stars. Bradley was quick to rush to your aid.

“Like I said you don’t get to tell me no. I told you that there would be consequences if you told me or anyone else on the team no.” He said, you somehow found our voice.

“You’ve been bullying me into doing yours and the football team’s homework and I’m done.” You said and a flash of anger flashed across his face and he went to punch you but Bradley punched first and then it turned into a fist fight. It didn’t last long until a teacher came out and Brody came out with more injury than Bradley.

“What is going on?” Mr. Anders asked as he walked up to the action with Mrs. Slick.

“Nothing. He started it.” Brody said and Mr. Anders looked over at Bradley and raised an eyebrow.

“Is this true?” He asked and Bradley shook his head.

“No, Brody started it. He pushed Y/N into me first and then into the lockers and made her hit her head.” Bradley said and they looked over at you and you had visibly paled.

“Brody, principal's office.” Mr. Anders said.

“What?! Mr-” He started 

“Now.” Mr. Anders said and he huffed and sulked off and then Bradley and Mr. Anders turned to you.

“Are you ok?” He asked but you didn’t say anything. Your ears were ringing and there was wetness on the back of your head. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head and you began to collapse as Bradley caught you and brought you down. “Woah.” Mr. Anders said and followed you down. A crowd was forming “Everyone get back to class now.” He said and everyone scurried away while another teacher Mrs. Slick came out on the phone with 911. The ambulance came and loaded you up and headed off to the hospital. They weren’t going to let Bradley ride with you but he was your cousin after all. 

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Maverick and Goose were sitting in the Mitchell household working on some projects that your mom wanted done when Maverick’s phone began to ring. He pulled it out and saw that it was your school calling and he frowned which caught Goose’s attention “Everything ok?” He asked and Maverick shrugged.

“The kid’s school is calling.” He said as he answered it.

“Hello?” He asked

“Admiral Mitchell, this is Miramar High School. I’m calling in regards to your daughter Y/N Mitchell.” Mrs. Fender said

“Is everything ok?” He asked

“I wish I was calling under better circumstances. Your daughter has hit her head on the lockers from being pushed. When asked if she was ok, she collapsed into Mr. Bradshaw’s arms. She is on her way to the hospital now.” She said and Maverick paled and thought he was going to collapse and Goose grew concerned.

“Thank you for calling. I’ll let her mother know and we’ll head there now.” He said 

“Very well. Mr. Anders will be with her and Bradley.” She said “Goodbye.” She said.

“Goodbye.” Maverick said and they hung up.

“Everything ok, Mav?” Goose asked 

“No, Y/N got hurt and is at the hospital with Bradley.” He said

“Is she ok?” Goose asked concerned for his niece.

“I don’t know but we gotta go. I’ll call Nichole on the way there.” Maverick said as they headed to the door and Goose grabbed the keys to The Bronco. Carole and Nichole were out having a girl’s day since they’re work had to be closed for a gas leak. They got into The Bronco and Maverick called his wife.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You had woken up confused and to the smell of medical cleaning supplies. At first you just looked around and then you saw your mom and dad there. “Mom? Dad?” You asked and they smiled sadly at you and got up from their chairs. They looked like they had been crying.

“Oh, Honey.” Your mom said and put a hand on your cheek and you leaned into the comforting touch.

“Bradley?” You asked and they smiled.

“Want them in here?” They asked and you slightly nodded but winced in pain.

“It’s ok baby.” Maverick said taking over when your mom left the room. A few minutes passed and The Bradshaw family was coming into your room. They carefully hugged you and you looked at Bradley who had his head down and you knew what he had done but you were ok with it you wanted them to know. “What happened?” Your dad asked and you sighed knowing they wanted to hear it from you.

“Brody, the captain of the football team, was bullying me into doing his homework and essays and I had enough and told him no and he got violent.” You said looking at them.

“How long has this been going on?” Carole asked

“Since we started high school.” You said “Bradley told me to stop but I didn’t listen.” You added tears escaping your eyes. Nobody said anything, they were mad but not at you. 

“What grade is he in?” Goose asked and before you could answer Bradley did.

“He’s a senior and 18.” Bradley said and the look on your parent’s faces morphed into anger.

“He’s 18, practically an adult and he physically hurt a 16-year-old, a minor, might I add. He can get in trouble for this.” Your mom said.

“We’re pressing charges.” You dad added and you nodded in agreement “I’m never going to let him hurt you again.”

“I want him to get in trouble and charges pressed. I don’t want anyone else to end up like me.” You said and they nodded. 

“We’ll do so when you get out of here.” Goose said and you shook your head.

“I want it done now.” You said looking at your mom and dad with your dad’s color eyes.

“Ok, baby. We’ll get an officer in here now.” Maverick said that is exactly what they did. 

A few minutes later a doctor and a police officer came in and everything was taken down and recorded and then they were leaving saying that everything looked good and promising. They wanted to keep you overnight to make sure nothing was damaged. Bradley, Goose, and Carole left saying that they would be back after work and school the next day.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

True to their word they were at the hospital the next day after work and school. Bradley was smiling and you raised an eyebrow. Brody wasn’t there today and then your phone began to get notifications and you looked at it and smiled and your parents raised an eyebrow and you turned the phone to them as the first line of an article showed “Brody Links 18, son of wealthy multi business owner Marcus Links, arrested for harming and putting a minor 16 in the hospital.” and they smiled and Maverick walked over to you and hugged you.

“See, I said I'm never going to let him hurt you again.” You dad said and you smiled as tears of relief fell.

“Thank you, dad. I love you.” You said and hugged him back.

“I love you too.” He said kissing the top of your head as you buried your face into his chest. Everything was going to be ok now.

Tag list:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

@angenu01-blog

@talesofreading

@callsign-revenge

[sophieinwonderland]

r/systemscringe found my post about imaginary friends! Reactions are exactly what you'd expect from the hate sub!

Don't worry @lxions, I assure you that the hate is mutual.

Anyway, let's put aside the reality of non-disordered systems for a moment and remind everyone that alters in DID and OSDD often manifest as imaginary friends in early childhood, as I recently discussed in the Plurality of... IF

From the DSM-5:

The problem with our current culture for children with dissociative disorder, a culture that treats "imaginary friends" as fake, as delusions, and things to be ignored and forgotten... is that it leaves children with dissociative disorders even more isolated and encourages them to view their alters as things to be gotten rid of.

Children with dissociative disorders are inherently setup by society to view their alters as enemies.

And you can't tell me that this doesn't contribute to the stigma. That this isolation doesn't contribute to the rates of depression and suicide among people with DID.

Yes, I realize that the trauma and abuse themselves are also big factors. But isolating children so they can't even talk about the other people in their head without being considered crazy, leading to them hating their alters, sure doesn't help matters.

We need to do better.

This is somewhat true. But not all abuse that causes DID is from the parents. And it's not always from both parents. And many children may end up being saved from abusive situations and placed with better families.

Even if their particular parents are like this though, normalization has other benefits.

If it's normalized for most parents, then it can be for teachers too. If a child feels safe going and opening up to a teacher and talking about the people in their head, that they consider imaginary friends, then it might make it easier for the teacher to pick up on red flags.

What a bizarre way to phrase this!

"I fear their children wouldn't develop DID."

Really?

Because I HOPE they wouldn't develop DID!

Imagine if getting to a child early enough and encouraging communication between headmates could prevent heavy dissociative barriers from forming! And actually, the longer you wait to address it and encourage that communication, the worse the symptoms will get! What if you could prevent DID this way, or at least reduce its severity, before it even forms?!

A child not developing DID is a weird thing for you to be afraid of!

Two Paths

As I see it, there are two paths for the future.

Down one path, nothing changes. Systems continue to be born into a world where plurals are treated as crazy, and having other people in your head is something to be stigmatized. This leads to isolation which leads to self-harm which in some cases will likely lead to suicide.

Down the other path, we actually try to change the culture. We normalize being able to talk about other people in your head. We educate people about plurality. And we show a willingness to accept the possibility of children being plural. We help foster communication with headmates of children and we set them up for a healthier life of plurality from the beginning.

These are the choices. And unfortunately, when given two choices, r/systemscringe will always opt for the choice that results in the most suffering for systems.

[animeprincessforever]

Muzan X Little Sister Reader X Kokushibo Perfect Life

Warning-CRINGE

Things to know-your Muzans little sister and later Kokushibo’s wife and your power immense telepathy and telekinesis

Since I was born my big brother always wanted to be my caretaker. I was always adventurous but since my big brother has his condition I’d always stay inside with him so he wasn’t lonely. When I turned 17 I refused to leave his side due to his illness getting worse. But that was back when we were humans. My big brother ate our parents because of my beauty they wanted to put me in the entertainment district. It angered my brother and he murdered our WHOLE family. Since then it’s always been me in my brother. I love to read, write, listen to music, and make my own kimonos. I was snapped out of my thoughts when my brother called for me. “(Y/n).” “Yes big brother? Do you need anything?”he looked at me. “Get ready. I have some servants I want you to meet.” I smiled “yes as you wish big brother!” I picked out my favorite kimono I made (https://www.pinterest.com/pin/509962357778109192/) and made my way to my brother. He sat on his thrown (Muzan Kibutsuji - Demon Slayer StickerPinterest) “now that we are all here let’s begin.” I stood by his side and noticed a man with 6 eyes and the symbol 1. ‘Who was this? He seems to be just staring at me. Oh no! Am I bleeding? Did I start my period and get blood all over my dress? No that’s not right I’m supposed to start in 2 weeks. Oh! Do I smell? Or have something on my face?’ I was snapped out of my thoughts when my brother said “(y/n). This is upper moon 1 Kokushibo, upper moon 2 Douma, and upper moon 3 Akaza. For now they are the start of the 6 upper ranks. Therefore they are my most powerful ones.” I nodded. “Who’s that?” I pointed at a woman with a biwa. “She’s upper rank. 4 to be precise.” I was about to say something but my brother said “the meeting is dismissed. Feel free to turn those you find strong and powerful into demons. Or devour them. As long as you find the blue spider lily.” ‘The blue spider lily? Oh I read about it in a book! Why does brother need it so bad?’

-Time Skip-

I put on a different kimono (Kimono, Yukata and RuqunPinterest) I was walking around at night seeing the beautiful river flow. I know brother hates it when I’m by myself. But I like my freedom. There was a slight breeze slowly going back. I felt like someone was watching me. “Who’s there?” I saw Kokushibo. “Are you alright? You seem to be staring at me a lot. Did I do something wrong?” He looked away “here” he held a pretty barrette in his hand (Beaupretty Hair Stick Japanese Hair Accessories, Womens Girls Japanese Kimono Flower Hair Ornament Barrette with Tassel (Black) Hair SticksAmazon.com · In stock) it matched my outfit perfectly“is that for me? It’s beautiful!” I said he replied “a girl of your beauty deserves the finest things.” I blushed and put it in my hair “thank you. It was very kind of you.” I got closer. What was this feeling? He gave me a kiss. I went in for it. We were snapped out of it when I heard my brother. “What is going on here? Kokushibo! What is the meaning of this? Why are you near my sister?” Before he could say anything. “Brother please it’s love. I never felt this way before. Besides remember. he is upper one. Hasn’t he been faithful?” my brother sighed “fine I would allow it but if he breaks your heart, he is good as dust.”

-BIG TIME SKIP-

(New outfit Maternity Dress With Kimono - Shop on PinterestPinterest ) As time went on . I became pregnant. I was so excited. But my brother on the other hand. He was furious. “ what do you mean you’re pregnant?” I smiled and placed the hand on my stomach. “I’m having a baby with the man I love. Is that a problem?” For The first time, my brother snapped at me “leave! I no longer need you” I ran away and left my brother and Kokushibo.

-time skip-

I had found an abandoned cottage. (The cottage-A Village house PhotographyPinterest) by now I was heavily pregnant. (You Exploring images in the style of selected image: [Resting with ...PixAI) I decided to go inside. I was so tired. After all I’m 8 months pregnant with a baby girl. I felt her kick rapidly. “Sshhhh it’s okay.” I said as I rubbed my belly trying to comfort her. All the sudden my bedroom window bursted open. I started to cry as I saw Kokushibo standing there. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I cried more and said “brother kicked me out and I didn’t want you to suffer for me!” He sighed and pulled me into his arms. I put my head against his chest as he said “I’ve been looking for you. I missed you.” I looked up and said “I missed you too I’m so sorry.” He just held me in his arms and moved a hand on my belly and rubbed soothing circles. My. Our baby girl started to calm down inside me and nestled against my stomach walls against Kokushibo’s hand. He then said “I love you 2.” As I slowly fell asleep in his arms.

Time past and I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. I named her Aya. Meaning beautiful/design/colorful/woven silk. But I picked the name cause she was beautiful. She had 6 eyes like her father. With my hair color. Aya was perfect in my eyes. I was wearing a new kimono I made when I was pregnant with her. It was stretchy and loose so I can be comfortable. (New outfit-Japanese Kimono Yukata Geisha Samurai Costume Costumes Japan ...Pinterest) I put Aya in (Newborn Infant Girls Spring Summer Long Sleeve Japanese Kimono Romper Jumpsuit Japanese Style Costume Twin DressesAmazon.com · In stock) the outfit I made for her. She was my precious flower. I held her close and thought about my brother. Me and Kokushibo were indoors hiding from the light. “Kokushibo? I want to see my brother.” He looked at me “are you certain?” I nodded and replied “I just want him to meet Aya.” He sighed “we will leave when the sun is down.” I smiled “thank you!”

As we prepared to leave I put Aya in her pajamas (Items similar to Baby Kimono with Japanese fabric , elephant print ...Pinterest) I smiled “you’re just so cute and beautiful! I love you my beautiful baby girl!” I said as I gave her kisses. She looked at Kokushibo and reached for him I giggled “you want your daddy?” She smiled as I handed her over to him. “Why do you trust me with her?” He asked I smiled “because you are her father she loves you! I’m gonna go get ready and then we could go!” I looked through all my kimonos. Which one should I wear. This one! (Decide on Women's Sexy Short Kimono Dress Floral Print Japanese Traditional Geisha Yukata Robe Bathrobe Skirt Belt OutfitAmazon · In stock) perfect! I grabbed Kokushibo and Aya.

-time skip-

“Brother, I’m home! There’s someone I want you to meet!” I heard brother “so you finally decided to visit?” I knew he wasn’t going to apologize. But in his own way, I saw sadness in his eyes. “This is Aya your niece.” My brother looked at her “ she looks like you minus the eyes. But in her own way I guess she’s beautiful.” I smiled. It’s gonna take time but I know. We are going to be a big happy family. Well small but it’s just right.

The end sorry for the cringe

[chaosduckies]

Restoration (Chapter 10)

I cut this one a bit short since I want the next one to be long. THAT’S where I’m deciding to put the TWO scenes I thought of. It will make you cry, and at the same time make your heart melt. Anyways, enjoy!

Word Count: 3.1k

CW: Witnessing a birth, mentions of death, That’s all for this one!

10-Ryker 

Everything was going downhill. 

There were warnings everywhere around the neighborhood I lived in. That humans living here should find a place to stay on the human side of the city. The riots were getting out of hand. Of course that was something to worry about, but I was really just worried about one other thing. Where would Lucky and Angela live? 

They can’t stay here. If those people come around and they find them, I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if something bad happens. It was better if I find someplace for them to stay. Away from the people that want to kill them. I was not about to let something bad happen to them because I kept them here. 

I had talked with Jasmine, and she said we should take down all of the elevators and hide the human room in case someone decides to barge into our house looking for harbored humans. It was smart, but it might take a while to get rid of all the elevators. There were a lot. I still didn’t have a place for Lucky and Angela to go. 

Nathan could always… no. That’s asking too much. Taking care of my own siblings? I couldn’t ask him to do that. I’m sure his mom doesn’t want two other people to look after either. I really didn’t know what to do. Maybe if I ask? No. Nonono. No asking. I’m sure Nathan already has his own problems to deal with. I can’t put more stress on him. The movie last night was great until I thought he would be fine if I just grabbed him. He absolutely freaked out and I didn’t know why I even did that. So could he really handle a four year old who absolutely loves hugs and a fifteen year old who is just so full of energy and loves playing sports. Is that a good combo with someone who was wary about being touched and hates the cold weather? No. I don’t think so. 

I groaned, leaning against the kitchen island and burying my head in my hands. What do I do? I can’t just give them to some random person! What if they hurt them or something worse? I guess I could always call Lucky, but what fi they take away his phone? 

There was small giggling from in front of me. I picked my head up, seeing Angela holding up a picture she drew. Of course I can barely see it when she’s standing so far away, but I just forged the best smile I could and scooped her up. She giggled even more, hugging the stuffed panda Nathan had given her. Speaking of… I need to find him a gift. 

“What is it, Angel?”  

“Lucky told me we have to leave. Is that true?” She pouted. Nothing goes unsaid in this house. Everyone finds out eventually. I would of had to tell Angela sooner or later. Or at least before she had to leave and go live with someone else for a while. It might actually be harder for me to watch them leave. 

“I’m sorry, Angel. I just want you to be safe.” I apologized, but she only hugged what little portion she could of my thumb. Like I said, she loved hugs. 

“I don’t wanna go thoughhhh.” She didn’t let go. I sighed, lightly pressing the back of my finger up against her back. I smiled softly, “You’ll miss me?” She nodded her head, finally letting go as I pulled my finger away. She was jut a kid, I can’t tell her that some people want to kill her just for being born. That would be bad. She wouldn’t understand yet either. 

I set Angela back down on the counter, watching her take the elevator back down probably to go see what Jasmine was up to. I still remember the day she was born. Everyone was shocked. Mostly my parents, but I remember being excited to have another baby sister.

——————

We could barely hear the crying. The doctors stared in shock as they held the tiny human-sized baby in their palms. Mom was barely conscious while dad was telling her how beautiful she was. None of us could see her face. She was too small. Isabelle was asleep on the couch, Dylan and jasmine stood there shocked at the events that just took place, meanwhile, Lucky was smiling. He was going to have a human sized sister. 

The doctors told the news to our mother, who was even more shocked than us. They carefully handed her the tiny life that had immediately stopped crying after she was safely in my mother’s hand. Mom had started crying happy tears, cooing at the extremely tiny baby she was holding. 

“It’s rare, but happens. The baby is completely healthy and otherwise normal.” The doctor smiled, reading off the clipboard. I walked closer, the doctor moving out of my way so I could see. She was so tiny. Maybe the size of my fingertip. I smiled, letting out a sigh of relief. 

“Say hi to Angel, Ryker.” Mom laughed, a shaky hand reaching to the infant. Angel? I liked that name. 

Soon enough everyone was gathered around the hospital bed. Mom didn’t let the younger ones hold her, only Jasmine and I and Lucky since he was a human. When it was my turn, I swear I heard a tiny little giggle escape the baby’s mouth. I smiled, looking in awe at how tiny she really was. Adorable. 

Angel was passed back to my mother, who held her all throughout the night. We never once heard her cry at night. Not at all when she was a baby. We needed some help to get her baby clothes since none of us could fit in a human-sized store except for Lucky, who was barely eleven at the time. Dad asked a few work friends, who were happy to help. When they weren’t around, mom had to use a pipette to feed her. One tiny drop at a time. 

——————

Mom loved her so much. She kept on saying that she was an angel, so that’s what her name would be. Angela. We call her Angel because that’s what mom called her. She really was an angel though. Mom never had a hard time getting her to sleep, feeding her, rocking her. Even if she was so much bigger than her own daughter. 

So, I was not about to let anyone just watch her. We were all so protective of her because of how she was brought into the world. Supposed to be a miscarriage, but here we are, with a happy little sister. I couldn’t let her see the bad part of life yet. It would make me a terrible older brother. 

As for Lucky, I didn’t want him to go back to a place where no one wanted him. Where he was afraid. The adoption center we found him in treated him badly as he was the only human there, so I was just glad I convince him to come with us. Now look at him. He was glued to Dylan and wasn’t scared of anything anymore. Could I let him go back to that terrible place? No. I will not be at any point in time. 

Nathan was my only choice. I didn’t trust anyone else, and I couldn’t let them stay here. Plus, Angel and Lucky like him. I doubt Nathan is able to physically hurt someone anyways. It was my best option. Now I just have to hope that he’s okay with it. 

I picked up my phone, and texted him. 

———Nathan———

My phone went off. I was in my room finishing off one of the books the librarian recommended to me. I picked up my phone, stuffing my bookmark where I left off and checked my messages. 

Ryker: Sorry for bothering you so much lately, but I have a hugeeee favor to ask you 

I already knew what he was going to ask. After what we saw on the news last night, I’m sure he was looking for a place Lucky and Isabelle could be at. Assuming I was the only other human he knew besides his own siblings, I was probably his best bet. I don’t mind though. Lucky and Isabelle are both my friends so how could I say no? 

Nathan: You’re not bothering me :) 

Nathan: What’d you need?  

Ryker: Could you maybe watch Lucky and Isabelle? Just until this whole riot thing blows over 

Ryker: You don’t have though 

Nathan: It’s fine! 

Nathan: I kind of expected this after last night 

Nathan: Let me just make sure my mom was okay with it 

Ryker: TYSM you’re the best 

I laughed, placing my phone back on the desk by my bed and heading into the living room where my mom was finishing up some papers for work. She smiled when she saw me walk in. She took the day off to finish up her work and stay with me. School was cancelled until after Christmas break because of what happened last night. The riots were getting out of hand, and people nearly died. She just wanted to make sure I would be okay at the house alone. Apparently I wouldn’t be alone all that much this time. 

“H-hey mom,” I started, “Ryker asked if his human siblings could stay here. B-because of what happened last night. He doesn’t want them to get hurt and he just asked if they could stay here for a week or two?” 

She smiled softly, putting her pen down, “Of course! You sure it won’t be too much on you? You know I’m working all week.” I nodded my head. If I can take care of myself and my mom, then I’m sure two others won’t be too bad. Plus, I’m sure my mom has some tips for Angela. She absolutely loves kids. 

“Alright then, I can’t wait to meet them!” She cheered as I walked back to my room. I knew she would say yes, I just had to make sure. It’s nice to know I can start slowly repaying Ryker for everything he’s done for me. This was just one small, insignificant way to repay him. 

Nathan: Yeah they can come! When though?

Ryker: Ummm in about three hours? Bus stop? 

Ryker: I don’t want go at night and I want to get them as far away from here as possible

Nathan: Sure! 

Nathan: I’ll be waiting

Ryker: Thank you so much  

Nathan: Anytime :D

Three hours wasn’t that long. I could finish my book and get ready to head out. I don’t know if my mom would want to come. Probably not since she’d most likely have some kind of greeting for them. Maybe she’ll just summon a gift out of nowhere. She does that sometimes. I’ve learned to never underestimate her when it comes to gifts. 

I finished the book, ending with the main character presenting his portfolio while also reflecting on everything that’s happened to him. His brother died, his other brother was broken because of it, he had to be the one to fix his family, and he did it. I liked it. It was a sweet ending. I still had about an hour and a half left until I had to go pick up Lucky and Angela. What should I do in the meantime? Well the first thing that pops up in my head is to bake. Because of course it is. It’s my main coping mechanism and it’s easy to do when you’re pretty good at it. 

Walking into the kitchen, I grabbed everything I needed for just some basic cookies, measured everything up, mixed it, and put it in the oven. My mom had appeared out of nowhere and sat down at one of the stools. 

“Smells good.” She smiled. I smiled back, taking a seat in the stroll next to her. 

“Everything alright, Nate?” She asked. She knew when I bake it’s because something is wrong. Today though, I was just doing it for fun. Also because I didn’t want Lucky and Angela to come without me giving them something. I’m just trying to make a good impression. 

“Yeah. Just making them a little gift.” 

“You care a lot about Ryker, don’t you? I mean, you are taking care of his own siblings for him,” She started, placing a cold hand on my shoulder, “He sounds like a nice friend though.” 

I nodded my head, “He is… I’m just trying to pay him back. F-for everything.” I started playing with my hands. I’m no longer as scared as I was before I met Ryker, I’ve been able to have someone to talk to, I’ve had the experience of actually having a friend, and I feel bad that I can’t give him anything back. 

“Nate, buddy, a good friend doesn’t ever ask for something in return I hope you know. You don’t always have to pay him back.” She advised. I sighed. I knew that… but I wanted to do this. It was the right thing. Was I just about to abandon his siblings to be left in that neighborhood where people were practically trying to weed out any and all humans on their side. 

“I know. But it’s nice to know that I’m at least helpful in some way.” 

My mom patted me on the back lightly, making me sit straight up and offer a nervous smile. She muttered a sorry before heading back to the living room to finish her paperwork. Five more minutes until the cookies were done. I couldn’t do anything else for Ryker except do what he asks me to. I mean, that’s what it means being a human right? You can’t do anything for anyone if they’re not the same size as you, yet a giant can give so much to a human, and still give more to their own people. Wait… Why was I thinking so hard about this?I didn’t even expect Ryker to give me anything. Ah. I’m spiraling again. 

I took the pan out of the oven, seeing the perfectly golden-brown cookies. They smelled delicious as always.  

——————

I waited by the bus stop, constantly checking the time and immediately stuffing my hands back into the warmth of my pocket. I can’t wait to get home, get under the blankets, and cuddle near the heater. Weird? Don’t care. I’m freakishly cold right now, and it was only getting closer as Christmas came around the corner. 

Ryker came into view, a sad look on his face. Right. Parting ways with his siblings he’s lived with his entire life. Why do I get the feeling Jasmine was going to threaten me again? I shuddered at the thought, but smiled and waved as soon as they had stopped in front of me. 

There was no way in heck that I was ready to see Ryker standing up to his full height from the ground, so I just focused on something else. The many cracks in the sidewalk, how many pieces of grass stuck in between the cracks. It helps. Only a little though. 

First up was the goodbyes for Angela. Jasmine was slightly crying, but she wiped those tears away. I knew they were close. Isabelle had hugged Angela up close, and then Ryker and Dylan all gave her a makeshift hug. Angela ran up to me, giving me a tight hug. I only slightly jumped, trying to seem comfortable around Ryker’ siblings. I admit, the ugly bothered me, but was I just supposed to deny a four-year old child a hug? I remember when I was little that was all I wanted. 

Dylan joked around with Lucky before letting him down on the ground. Lucky waved a goodbye to everyone. I was kind of surprised that was it. Then again, he was fifteen. I doubt he’d want his own siblings embarrassing him in front of me. I wouldn’t think anything of it. Not like I don’t do anything embarrassing all the time. 

“Thanks again. You didn’t have to.” Ryker thanked me, giving his best smile. I couldn’t help but catch the way the edges of his mouth twitched. This was hard for him to see them leave. It would be hard for me too if you only had your siblings left in the world and now they had to leave because it wasn’t safe for them. Maybe they don’t trust me all too much… If that’s the case then I was their only hope. 

They had all left, except for Jasmine, who crouched down and brought her face close to me, a mean and annoyed look on her face. I let out a quiet squeak, backing up. Lucky just stood in front of me, shaking his head. He doesn’t have to defend me- 

“If I find out that they even have the slightest little bruise, I’ll murder you.” She promised, standing up and now joining the rest of her siblings. A shiver ran down my spine. 

“Ah don’t take her seriously. She’s a real softie once you get to know her.” Lucky patted me on the back while Angela grabbed his hand. Yeah… Only joking he says. I think she means it when she gets that close to me. 

We walked back to my house where my mom handed them a plate full of my cookies, which they both gladly took and ate in the matter of seconds. My mom sat with Angela in the empty room playing, “tea party” with whatever stuffed animals Angela brought. Meanwhile, Lucky and I were watching a movie on the couch in the living room. 

“Thanks,” He started, I picked up my head, “Ryker told me about what happened last night. When he tried to grab you I mean.” 

I looked down at the floor. I still feel bad about it. Who wouldn’t? He wasn’t even trying to hurt me and I just… Agh. 

“You’re not afraid of him in general, right?” He asked. I quickly shook my head. He could never purposely scare me. It’s what he can do that scared me. Not to mention that I sometimes get those terrible nightmares which make everything a million times worse. So, no, it’s not Ryker I’m afraid of. 

“Well, all I can say is that you’ll feel better if you tell him about whatever happened to you. I know from experience. He’ll help in any way he can.” Lucky flashed me a smile, then continued to watch the movie. 

Would he really though? Anytime I’ve ever told someone and they tried to help, they just give up on me about two weeks in. What’s so different about this time? That it’s someone my age? I think that makes it worse. 

But, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea… maybe I should? 

———————————————

Ahhh oh how I love when it ends with a rhetorical question. Will he? Will he not? Hahaaa I can’t wait to post the next chapter. (I’m crushing my own soul with this one) :D

Thank you for reading!!!

(Also, WHATTTT two chapters in the span of 24 hours?? Impossible)

[icespur]

Akeshu Daughter from the future in Mpreg Akiren During Strikers AU:

Credit to “@iftheworldendsinflames” for bringing up the idea. 

She originally brought up the idea for the “Mpreg Akiren during Strikers” idea, but I could see this working for a couple scenarios, I’ll split them into separate posts.

So, one plot issue with this particular scenario is “Why would Komari be there in the first place?” Since most “from the future” plots, have said person from the future come to the past to warn someone of something, or to fix or prevent something bad from happening themselves. 

For this case, there’s nothing really world endangering or life threatening in Strikers that could be perilous to Komari and her future, so what if she got sent to the past somehow by accident and so her goal is to get back home and she needs the assistance of the Phantom Thieves but at the same time, obviously can’t fully reveal why and who exactly she is as that might rewrite her original reality she’s from, or worse, erase her from existence entirely. 

So, she goes “undercover” in a sense. She keeps her first name, but goes by a different allies off the fly after nearly fucking up her cover—

“I’m Komari Ama—--uh—-Ake—-Ah–ak—ak–a–gi? Yes! Akagi. Komari Akagi, that’s me!” 

Inspired after remembering a Japanese Jazz pianist with that surname. That kanji spelling of  Akagi translates to “Red Castle” which—is unintentionally similar to the meaning of “Amamiya” which means “Rain Palace”. So already she’s made a subtle whoopsie. 

I like to think Akechi would also take his child to the Jazz Jin to keep the tradition and so Komari grew up listening to the Jazz Genre and probably came across the name Akagi by listening to one of his songs. 

Out of panic and memory, she chooses the surname which also translates to something similar to what one of her fathers surname means, it’s too late to pick a different name so all she can do is internally hope and pray they don’t catch on.

She does openly tell the Thieves things about herself if asked or randomly if a subject reminds her of her upbringing, but of course nothing outright

Like, she obviously can’t say: “My Parents are Ren Amamiya and Goro Akechi”. But she brings up in passing “Oh I don’t have a “mom” I have two dads actually.”

“Oh, you’re adopted then?”

“No, one of my dads gave birth to me.”

“...........Wha?” Everyone is puzzled as hell at that response until they remember “Oh wait, we have a pregnant male party member.”

Ryuji jokes that Ren and Komari’s dad should meet one day so they can bond over pregnancy experiences. Komari laughs in response but internally is freaking out because “I’m in deeper shit than I thought. Not only did I go back in time, I got dropped in the year I was born, Ren is my dad, he’s pregnant with me.”

She actively avoids interacting with the newborn version of herself to avoid a paradox. One of the Thieves notices this and asks her why she doesn’t seem to want to be around the baby, and she doesn’t want to come off as rude or heartless so she doesn’t want to use the “Oh, I don’t like children” excuse, so she stammers out an accidental declaration that she has a crippling phobia of babies. 

Out of instinct she’ll slip up in interactions by acting too familiar with the group, or little genetic quirks and mannerisms inherited from her parents will shine through. Most of them go over the Thieves' heads, but Ren silently takes notice and can’t help but be reminded of Akechi in more ways than one. 

Komari inherited Akechi’s eye color and front bangs of his hair. Hair color wise, is from Ren; black and naturally messy.

Black hair and Brown eyes isn’t that uncommon of an appearance in Japan. But Ren knows those eyes, the reddish brown tint of his allegedly deceased rival. It’s probably why he can’t help but smile fondly when talking and looking at her. He hopes his and Akechi’s unborn daughter inherits the same eyes. 

When meeting Morgana in this timeline for the first time, unlike everyone else’s first reaction to him, Komari doesn’t do the “AH WHATTHEHECKATALKINGCAT?!” thing since she grew up with Morgana so already knows about his ordeal, so purely out of natural instinct she treats him with respect and an individual which gives her good points from him off the bat because “Finally, someone that treats me as an equal. Why can’t you be more like Mari-Chan, Ryuji? I like this girl, I say we’re keeping her!” 

She almost slips up by nearly referring to Ryuji, Yuusuke, Ann, Makoto, Haru and Futaba as “Aunt/Uncle”, more times than she’d like to admit. 

Seems to have a personal hatred for politicians. When asked, she explains “My family doesn’t have good experiences with politicians.” 

Has an unconscious habit of referring to people that anger her as “Trash” under her breath.

Wears black gloves that Ren especially takes notice of. He asks her about them and how they remind him of—-someone he really cared for and misses. Afraid that he could be getting suspicious of her, and immediately regretting responding with “Oh, these belonged to one of my dads.” She waves off the similarity with “Black is a common color for gloves, i’m sure it's just a coincidence.” 

Very—-- “enthusiastic” when fighting shadows in the Metaverse. It scares the shit out of most of the Thieves, except Joker, who gets instant “Third Semester Black Mask Akechi” flashbacks, and tears up while watching the strange yet familiar girl massacre the shadows. 

The Thieves say that Komari reminds them of Ren. Much to Ren’s bewilderment because according to him “Me???? Really, I mean if you say so, but I don’t really see it. Is it our hair color? We both have black and messily textured hair.”

Mari-chan inherited Ren’s humor, playfulness, courage and charisma. When she smiles and interacts with the group, it’s genuine. She’s also naturally honest which could explain why she’s making so many unintentional fuck ups by revealing too much information about herself. She most definitely did not inherit Akechi’s acting and ability to put on a false mask in public and it shows. 

I cannot stress enough how the only thing that would save this poor girl from unintentionally causing a paradox is if the Phantom Thieves and Ren are all simultaneously cursed with sharing one braincell. 

She’s trying, she really is. But if the Akechi from her original timeline could see this he’d be facepalming and sighing in disappointment, then in utter defeat calls Ren over to give him a heads up that there’s going to be some drastic changes to their reality because their lovely pride and joy somehow got herself teleported to the past to the year of her birth and is flopping like a fish out of water at mission “Go undercover and befriend the past versions of my family, reveal that I’m from the future but not my exact identity, so they can hopefully help me return to my reality.” Because he just got reminded that she inherited Ren’s intellect and now they and everyone in their reality is fucked.

[tastesmes]

hey, isn’t that SAVANNAH CLARKE, who looks a little like SADIE STANLEY? i hear SHE is a TWENTY FIVE year old CIS WOMAN who works as a WAITRESS @ UNCLE SAM’s DINER who has been in town for TWO WEEKS. they AREN’T a member of one of aspen creek’s founding families. you can usually find them at WILLOW STREET or THE COZY NOOK CAFE. if you ask me, they remind me a lot of HALF PACKED SUITCASE ALWAYS BY THE DOOR, CRUMBLED BUS TICKETS, A FLICKERING NEON SIGN BUZZING FAINTLY IN THE DISTANCE, HOMESICK BUT NOT KNOWING WHERE HOME IS. just keep an eye on them & see if their true colors shine through!

BIOGRAPHY

triggers: drug addiction, mentions of verbal abuse, foster care.

her life had always been tragic. a father who disappeared right after she was born, a mother who constantly made a pledge to stop steering down the wrong path — only to make those sharp turns away. on and off, it’s what she did. looking at her kids, a promise to be better but never actually keeping it. at least savannah has her old sibling. someone who made their life feel a little less like hell. she depended on them. looked at them the way she should’ve been looking at her mother; a parental figure. a caretaker. a sibling. light in all the darkness.

only that light disappeared one day. sav's last memory of them being a smile as they walked out the door — an unspoken promise that they’d be back .. only to never return. at first, this seemed like the wake up call her mother needed. her oldest child missing, desperately wanting them back home but as the years went on— no answers— things only got worse. sav no longer had someone to lean on, to shield her from what was really going on. day and night, dealing with her mother and having to deal with the verbal lash outs.

then came the time when she was removed from the house. word finally getting around about what was going on behind closed doors and with no other family, savannah was placed into the foster care system. it only hurt more to see that her mother hardly put up a fight and solidifying her biggest fear: her mother didn't love her. not like she did her older sibling. there was no fight for her back, no attempt to try to get better. only a woman who could barely look her daughter in the eye as she was dragged away.

bouncing from home to home, each home worse than the last became the new norm. sav began to fold into herself with every house she went through. there was no attempt to make friends, no trying to please the foster parents of the month. gone was the sweet little girl who tried and in her place was a child who became known as a problem. a troublemaker. having a poor attitude, picking fights, not taking up chores or doing her best at school.

by eighteen, she obviously was never adopted and never found a family that could picture having savannah apart of their life. thus, leaving her to fend for herself. she had no goals, no clue what her next steps were and decided to merely do something she's never done before — travel. by her own means. she took up multiple part time jobs, saving up money and eventually saved up enough money to begin her travels.

there was never a destination in mind. constantly hopping onto buses or trains, and going wherever felt right at the time. every destination she'd stay a couple months in a motel, or temporarily roommating while working a simple part time job and experiencing whatever this town or city had to offer. though, the issue was — savannah never felt as though there was a place that ever felt right. no place that made her feel like it could be a place where she could live forever. on top of that, sav always felt the urge to run whenever people got too close. when growing up and never understanding what it means to be loved, she'd pack up and leave whenever she feels like people are getting to close for comfort. her walls built so high and has no idea how to allow herself to let them down.

MISCELLANEOUS

to be announced.

[noroi1000]

❝𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮-𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐢❞ Epilogue

Satoru-Sensei | ←Previous chapter

The epilogue is really the end of the story.



His fingers lightly traced your forehead as he soothed you from crying.

You didn't want to remember what happened... They reminded you of what happened. 

You were crying. Because of you, they were here, fighting Satoru. Therefore, they want to return you to their lives.

But you refused. 

They reminded you of your parents. About all the people close to you that you have ever had.

You're closest to Satoru. 

But that's all...

You thought about how your parents feel now. What their lives are like. How things are going for them when you're gone. You believe they picked themselves up very quickly after you left. You can be sure that now that two years have passed, they are living like a normal family again. 

But you're sure your mother cried when she found out about your death. You know it. It certainly was. You would never want to be the reason for her tears. And now that you think about it, you know that she was crying because of you. It was all your fault... They all cried when you died.

"It's okay. Calm down... I'm here." 

"Satoru..."

You wish you didn't know this ever happened. You don't like the idea of having to live with someone who is crying because of you. 

Your parents don't remember you. 

Your classmates don't remember you. For them, you don't exist. You were never born. 

There is no grave for you because you are alive. And they don't remember who you were.

They woke up from their sleep and realized that there was no such person as (y/n). They considered it all to be a dream.

You are no longer in their lives. 

To end the despair of your parents, he did the same for them. There was nothing left of your memory there. 

All your things have been brought to you, to this house. And your parents didn't know you existed. 

Being affected by this part of the Gojo technique causes the brain to become confused. Information flies away, and you don't remember something. That's exactly right, like waking up from a coma after which you don't remember much. Like being attacked by a fever that could cause brain damage. 

Students forgot what happened in the first year. They forgot everything that happened to you. 

It was worse with your parents. But they forgot about your death and that you were their daughter. That was the most important thing. They didn't cry anymore because you died. 

And now, because you found out about it, you were crying.

And there was only one way for you to stop crying forever and just smile.

"(y/n)-chan, do you trust me?" he asked suddenly, kissing your forehead. 

You looked up at him with tears filling your beautiful eyes for him. 

You nodded slightly, wiping away your tears with one hand as you clutched his shirt across his chest.

His fingers stroked your face. 

He gently wiped your tears and kissed you.

Fingers on the cheeks and forehead.                    

This will be the last time he will be your authentic Satoru-Sensei. What happened now was real. Real. And he will give you oblivion of sadness by removing such life. 

What will happen now will no longer be as true as it was. 

What was real was that you were a student at Jujutsu High. And he was your teacher who fell in love with your kindness and innocence. In the warmth you gave him. 

                    Not to change your behavior and feelings.

Just to help you forget about what ever happened at Jujutsu High.

"Why are you smiling like that?"

You looked at your Satoru, who was lying shirtless on a towel in the sand, pretending that he was sunbathing. 

His eyes were on you as you sat next to him, looking out at the water. 

The water was around the island where you live together. 

Your Satoru is a Jujutsu sorcerer. He brought you here because, in this place, he can protect you from curses forever. 

You always trust him. All the years he was with you. How long has it been? 

His fingers lazily ran up your calf, tickling you a little.

“I just remembered something…” You replied to him with a smile. 

You couldn't tell the difference between the clear water at the shore, the blue of which showed beauty, and his eyes. But if you had to choose, your Satoru's eyes would be more beautiful.

"What?" he asked and moved closer to you, resting his cheek on your thigh as he wrapped his arms around your hips. 

With your cheeks slightly pink in joy, you placed your hand in his hair, stroking him lightly. 

"It reminded me of how you saved me when I was in my third year of middle school. And you took care of me all these years. You protected me. Now you're doing it...And I..." You stopped, blushing more. "...I really love you..."

"I know, baby." He hugged you tighter.

He taught you about life. He taught you to love with him. 

You remembered life differently than he remembered it. But what was important was that you were safe and happy. 

He taught you, as a love teacher, to call him "Satoru-Sensei" innocently once again.  With love and forever. Especially when you so sweetly say "I love you" to him.

°~END~°

A/n Thank you for reading Satoru-sensei! With this final chapter, this two-story series ends.

I really wanted to make a happy ending, so here it is.

Any other happy ending probably wouldn't have been possible. Well, I hope you liked what I wrote!

[novemberhope]

Summary: Cordelia is a little kid fending for herself. She tries to steal from Shakky. Notes: This came to me a while ago when I was trying to sleep. Finally I found time to write some of it down. Word Count: 1407

The afternoon sun rose high above the Sabaody Archipelago. Bubbles floated gracefully through the air. The many mangrove trees shielded the secluded little beach from sight. But not everyone was living a happily life.

At just six years old, Cordelia knew her way around the island. Her long, dirty black hair fell down her back, tangled and unkempt. She was barefoot as always and her dress was dirty and torn in many places. Many children like her roomed the Sabaody Archipelago, left behind when their parents went to join the various pirate crews and set sail from Sabaody into the New World, or were fished out of the sea when the ships they were on ended up sinking when the crews attempted to set sail for Fishman Island. Some were born on Sabaody, fathered by charming young pirates that then went on their next adventure, not caring who they left behind. Some had family on the island that either couldn’t take care of them or only did the bare minimum. Cordelia had no idea who her parents were. She remembered nothing about her early years and only knew the life on the streets, running away from drunk pirates and drunk marines alike, being depended on the kindness of strangers. She had learned to scavenge, to rely on her small size and swift feet. Adults had come and gone, and she had learned the hard way that trust was a foolish thing.

Today, she had spotted something of interest, guiding her like a moth to a flame. She crept closer, her stomach twisting with hunger, until she spotted a woman sitting on a weathered log, her dark, short hair barely reaching her chin. She wore a tight shirt and even tighter pants.

The woman had a cigarette hanging from her lips as she watched the waves lapping at the shore. She seemed oblivious to the fact that she wasn’t alone at the beach.

Cordelia’s heart raced as she eyed the coins scattered on the log beside the woman—a small treasure just within reach. She crouched low, the grains of sand sticking to her dirty feet, her fingers itching to snatch them. She had many times stolen before; it was a matter of survival, after all.

Just as she was about to pounce, the woman’s smoky voice broke the silence. “You’re not very good at hiding, are you?” She didn’t turn her head, but her eyes narrowed, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Cordelia froze. She took a step back, her heart racing with fear. Her many experiences had taught her that adults were rarely kind. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t hiding!” she lied.

The woman finally turned, her black eyes narrowing at the girl before her. “Bullshit, kid. You were as subtle as an explosion in a library.” She flicked ash from her cigarette and regarded the girl, her expression shifting. “You look a bit worse for wear. You hungry?”

Cordelia was caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. “I’m not hungry,” she stammered, though the gnawing emptiness in her stomach gave her away.

The woman chuckled softly. “Right, and I’m the queen of Fishman Island.” She leaned over, the sun catching the coins as she picked them up. “You can have one, if you want. But first, you have to speak properly.”

Cordelia hesitated, her distrust showing. Adults rarely showed kindness, but something in this woman’s presence felt different—granted, she seemed tough, but though Cordelia could work with. Fake niceness and then ending up being locked in or hit she could not.

“I… I just need a coin,” she said finally. “Please.”

With a resigned sigh, the woman threw a coin to Cordelia, who caught it with the reflexes of a street cat. The girl’s pretty blue eyes lit up.

“That should buy you a meal, but you can’t keep fending for yourself like this at your age. Do you have a place to go?” the woman asked, her tone shifting into something more serious.

“I’m fine”, Cordelia snapped, making sure to keep enough distance between them.

“You’re what? Five? Seven? You can’t fend for yourself. There are worse things than hunger in these waters, kid.”

Cordelia’s heart thudded in her chest. “You just want to lock me up somewhere to take me away!” she said, taking several steps back. She had seen some kids being rounded up and taken away. It happened now and then and she hadn’t seen any of them ever again.

“Not necessarily, but you understand you need help, right? What’s your name?”

Cordelia crossed her arms defiantly. "I don’t need a name. I’m fine."

"Are you really?" the woman asked. "How about you come with me? I can get you something to eat, no strings attached."

Panic sized Cordelia at the thought of being trapped. "No!" she yelled, turning around and sprinting along the beach, the sound of her bare feet slapping against the hot sand.

As she reached the water’s edge, huge boulders loomed before her, blocking her escape route. She looked towards the mangrove trees, ready to change direction, but she could hear voices coming from there. Frantically, she looked in all directions, paranoia overtaking reason. Gripping the rough surface of one of the rocks, she began to climb.

But as she scrambled, her foot slipped against the jagged stone, sending her tumbling backward. She landed in the water, waves crashing over her, pulling her down. She had never learned how to swim. Fear washed over her as she was sinking deeper.

Then strong arms reached for her. The woman from before had leaped into the water after the girl and caught her just in time. Cordelia was coughing and spitting out water as she was pulled to safety upon the shore. The woman sat down with her on the sand.

"You can’t just run away like that!" the woman gasped, pushing damp strands of hair back from Cordelia’s face. The girl sat on the sand shivering and shocked, water dripping from her face.

"I don’t need you!” Cordelia said defiantly.

"You’re right. You don’t need me," the woman replied. “But you do need food… and a place to stay for the night. Just think about that."

Once again, Cordelia was torn. She had lived for so long on her own, never trusting anyone. And yet, sitting next to this strange woman who had cared enough to save her… she really wanted to go with the woman.

Later, as the sun was setting, Silvers Rayleigh strolled into the Rip-Off Bar. His eyebrows rose as his eyes fell on Shakuyaku, who was preparing food for a dirty young girl that was sitting at a table, looking at him with distrust, scowling at him as he came closer.

"What's this?" Rayleigh asked, as Cordelia scowled at him.

"This," Shakuyaku began, "is Cordelia. I’m thinking about letting her stay for a while."

Rayleigh chuckled. "A little firecracker, aren’t you? How do you feel about staying, Cordelia?”

She glared up at him, her blue eyes narrowing. “You can’t make me stay. I won’t! I don’t trust adults.”

“No one’s asking you to trust us right now,” Shakky said softly, crouching down next to the table to meet the girl’s gaze. “But you could have a meal, a place to rest. No one says you have to stay if you don’t want to. You can always leave.”

For a brief moment, Cordelia looked like she wanted to get up and run away. Instead, she avoided looking at the two adults and grabbed the plate that Shakky had placed in front of her. Ignoring the cutlery, she started to grab everything with her fingers, shoving as much food in her mouth as possible.

“Guess we’ll work on table manners another time,” Rayleigh chuckled.

“Just let her eat,” Shakky said. “She nearly drowned today.”

Cordelia kept on eating. She didn’t say anything but she was clearly watched them closely, ready to bolt at the smallest sign of danger. The danger never came. She still kept eating like every meal would be her last one but eventually she started to allow Shakky and Rayleigh to sit at the table with her. She did not shrink back when they made sudden movements and she even grinned sometimes when they joked around. Very slowly, trust was being built - and for the first time in her life, Cordelia allowed herself to get close to someone.

[sweetmoonlight7]

Changes pt 2 | jegulus microfic | word count: 764

tw: slight mentions of abuse

@always-reading i hope you like it :)

also here is the first part

Leaving the house wasn’t the most difficult part.

At first Regulus had been worried about what his parents' reactions would be. Although they had never been too violent, their punishments often left them locked in or without food.

So of course he thought they would follow them or that they wouldn’t let them leave. He imagined cruel words and dark rooms and his brother’s cries.

How did he never think about this though?

When Regulus and his brother left three days ago it was past midnight. Their parents were asleep and kreacher had seen him off. The potters had met them a couple blocks away from Grimmauld to take them back.

When he got the Potters cottage James had already set up a place for him to stay. It was nice, there were clothes and some books Effie had picked out for him.

So all that was left was to wait.

He waited

and waited

but nothing came.

His parents didn’t try to show up. They didn’t storm into the Potters home demanding for their children back. There weren’t letters or howlers sent.

They didn’t care.

“Are you settling in okay?” ah James had been checking in on him ever since they got here. The worry in his voice only gets progressively worse by Regulus' silence.

“Yes, thank you” his voice sounded far away even to him. There was no way it would really convince James once he looked down at where Regulus was sitting on his bed, book open but on the same page for the last three days.

It was dark, he hadn’t even turned a light on to pretend that he was reading. The only light came through from his half opened window.

“I know it’s been difficult for you, getting used to being here”

“The only thing that has been difficult about this is realizing my parents have never cared”

Silence.

He can imagine that James doesn’t know what to say. How to fix this. In turn he doesn’t know how to explain that there isn’t anything to fix. Although he is upset it’s more because of the surprise from the lack of contact.

It had never come to his mind that his parents wouldn’t do anything. That they cared so little about them that they would just let them leave. Their pride winning over the idea of the perfect heirs.

He couldn’t even count on that.

Slowly James walked up to his bed and laid his head on top of Regulus shoulder almost as if he was afraid of scaring Regulus or having him turn away.

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“I’m not upset”

“You know you don’t have to lie to me about being hurt, I won't get mad or sad if you are”

“It’s more of a surprise than a hurt, I don’t know if to be happy they did nothing or upset that they don’t care. At the very least I thought they would be angry. I just want them to care”

“Have you thought about going back?”

He shakes his head and holds James hand. The last thing he wants is for James to think he’s unhappy or that he will leave.

"No, no, it's not like that. I'm happy to be here, I like being with you. It's just weird coming here and having you and your parents be so kind, but my parents? My parents are supposed to love and care about me, and they've made it obvious they don't. How can people I just met care more about me than the people who are the reason I was born? I don't think Sirius understands, and I know he's mad with me for how l've been acting these last couple of days. I haven’t meant to come off rude or ungrateful, I just feel tired"

“He’s not mad at you, just worried you will want to leave” James says “Sirius feels like he forced you to come and now you regret it”

“I don’t, I could never when I'm here with you and I know he’s safe. I think I just needed time to understand everything that has changed so far”

“So you won’t leave?” It’s spoken as barely a whisper, it hits Regulus just how scared James was.

“Of course not, I could never leave you”

James' shoulders sagged in relief and he offered a smile to Reguls and reached over and kissed the side of his head. “I just want you to be happy and safe”

“I’m always happy with you”