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read it on the AO3 at

by Anonymous

Rey is a rebel fae princess who is running away from an arranged marriage into the human realm.
Ben Solo is a human prince who just escaped from his own engagement party.
What happens when their both worlds collide?

Words: 6878, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

read it on the AO3 at
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This gorgeous story is giving me some real feels that I was already having after Chapter 11.

And now I’m thinking about a story I want to write, because Bo-Katan and Ahsoka knowing where to find each other 28 years after the Siege of Mandalore absolutely wrecks me and I love it.

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All Part Of The Plan

Tom Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader

Words: 2353

TW: Alcohol, Sex (heavily implied), shouting, pregnancy, vomit

A/N: This isn’t very long, and I’m still getting to grips with the character, as I’ve never written him before- so do forgive if this isn’t particularly good- but I hope you enjoy. :)

Any feedback or requests are very welcome! (and useful!)

Request Page (X)

Masterlist (X)

She’d panicked. She was terrified. She’d never imagined her life like this and now she felt she had no choice.

It started with one of Professor Slughorn’s parties. (Y/n) was a talented student, a little timid and was pretty enough to have an admirer or two. But she wasn’t terribly bothered with anything other than her studies and reading books. It seems cliché but there wasn’t much else to do when she wasn’t with her little group of friends or revising for exams, so it occupied time.

But along came the party. Initially she was hesitant to go, it wasn’t her scene and there were preferable things to do. Even so, she was convinced by her friends to just go this once. Just once, and then she wouldn’t have to do it again. She picked out a dress and rolled her eyes as her roommate handed her a lipstick, but put it on just to appease her.

When she arrived she soon found herself with a glass of mulled wine in hand and in a room of people she wasn’t particularly fond of. Before the supper commenced, the idea was that the members of the ‘slug club’ would mill around and chat.

There were younger students, second years and up mainly, and some in their last year at school, which included (Y/n). Some students were there for academic merit, and other had wrangled their way in through reputation and charm.

She stood back and watched, simply observing the others and keeping to herself. Quite quickly she settled in, watching and drinking a little. It was all of a sudden then, when she felt a presence next to her.

She didn’t look over, or change her demeanor in any way but she was acutely aware of the person besider her.

“Not particularly social then?” She heard a deep, masculine voice ask, knowing now who she stood next to.

“No, I’d much rather just that the evening gets over with.” She mused, taking a sip from her glass and still never entertaining her companion with even so much as a sideways glance.

“I’m inclined to agree.” The voice replied back, as she now felt his gaze upon her. The gaze was soft, and yet she sensed some kind of intent there. She didn’t know why this young man had singled her out, she knew well enough of him that it wasn’t something he did particularly often.

Eventually his eyes turned back out into the room, and, after a few shared minutes of quiet people watching, (Y/n) wandered away, to fill her drink and just move a little more as her heels were beginning to dig in to her feet a little as she stood there.

As she did, she looked back, thinking she might steal a glance at the boy who had been standing beside her, but she didn’t find him, she searched for his face in the crowd but soon gave up and thought no more of the interaction.

That was until finally the precursor to the dinner had ended and the professor directed everyone to sit down. Each place at the table was set with gleeming silver cutlery, the spoons so polished as that you could see your face in them and a small place card that shone with gold ink.

It was quite strange not to be grouped by house as at a normal Hogwarts dinner, instead at the pleasure and interest of their host- who had indeed paired students in the past purely for his own entertainment- he’d placed sworn enemies beside eachother, ex-lovers across the table from eachother and pairings that he simply felt might create some interesting conversation for him to interject into. (Y/n) was also unused now to eating in formal dress, her school robes were annoying enough to eat in, though at least unrestrictive. The dress she wore was a peachy satin number, off the shoulder and rather clingy. It wasn’t the usual thing that she dressed in, nor what she prefered. A yellow lined set of school robes and matching striped tie did her well enough, or even better, a pair of PJs. Even so, she tolerated it just this once.

She took her seat obediently, and instinctively looked to her right as someone sat beside her. Oh dear. The young man she had recognised before. He’d disappeared into thin air and then appeared right beside her again. She couldn’t help but fixate on his face as he sat down, perfect posture and poise.

Quickly she caught her mistake and looked back down at her place setting, but it was far too late, he’d noticed her.

“Hello again.” His voice was smooth and calm- rather commanding in it’s tone, she noted.

“Hello” She replied politely, her eyes drawing back up to his face.

“I’m Tom.” (Y/n) smiled a tiny little smile, he was handsome and, so far, quite courteous. “Tom Riddle”

“I’m (Y/n) (Y/l/n)”

“Slughorn likes pairing people up at his dinners, I wonder why we seem to have been put together. Eh?” He turned his face to her. His features were sharp and distinctive, she felt somehow that it wouldn’t be a face she’d ever forget.

“I wouldn’t know-” (Y/n) began.

“Maybe we’ll make the best of it then?” Tom asked, looking down upon her, his height being much greater than hers. She felt compelled to agree, and did so.

That evening went rather better than she had ever expected it to- and Tom Riddle was seeming much less cold than he’d been said to be.

He’d spoken to her kindly, some would take him as flirt. He was commanding and yet knew when to know when to let the girl speak. What (Y/n) had done to get the attention of the notoriously handsome and lonesome boy, she didn’t know, but she was enamoured with him. The way he spoke, if nothing else, drew her in and he timed every movement just perfect- to draw her in more. Not much she did seemed to affect him, not a flutter of her eyelashes nor a sweet smile broke his nonchalance.

What they spoke about was mundane, dull by most standards, but a few sly compliments, some implied, and some as blunt as anything, were sprinkled in. As they parted, Tom kissed the back of her hand and took his leave, leaving in his wake a girl entirely consumed, with a fluttering in her stomach and a clouded head. Despite his parting words being as deeply unromantic as:

“Now, dear, outside of this room I’m afraid we’re not friends, it’s best we don’t appear aquainted. Though this evening, I hope I can say, we both enjoyed.”

It seemed after that as if they had never met. (Y/n) never spoke of it, mentioned no detail of the party and simply told everyone it was dull. Tom never glanced at her, though she often stole glances at him- something that everyone was used to girls doing at the mysterious young man. She tried to forget him, so desperately, and yet never could.

So when she felt a hand on her waist as she sat in the library, and a presence beside her- her heart swelled a hundred times.

She turned her head and all of a sudden her lips crashed into his. She knew who it was and she induldged herself in allowing it all to happen. He smelt of cedarwood and musk, warm and so inviting. As he pulled her on to his lap and she happily abandoned her textbooks for him. With every button undone she thought less of any consequences. She allowed and encouraged it happily.

When he was done, having said not a word, he buckled his belt back up, and walked back along the aisle of books and turned the corner, yet again leaving (Y/n), messy and ruffled this time. Her heart was pounding and she had no answers. But inside she was begging for more, it’s all she wanted as she walked shaking back to her dorm, wrapped up in her robes. She hurried through the Hufflepuff common room and hid under her covers, thinking of him.

Twice more they rendezvoused, about a months gap between the first and second, and two months between the second and third time. It was the same, she was approached when she was alone, it would be quick and she’d be left wanting more, but knowing she couldn’t ask, nor aknowledge him at all, not outside of their small moments.

Then the fateful day. She realised she’d missed something. She felt off and she couldn’t figure out what it was. All day, through potions and charms and study, she couldn’t think what it would be- until she could. She knew it as she stood in the bathroom, looked in the mirror and felt one of the pangs of nausea that she’d been feeling recently.

It couldn’t be true. There was no way, she’d be ruined, a disgrace and tarnished forever if it were.

But she went to a doctor, a muggle doctor so no-one would know, and she sobbed over the letter she recived that told her it was true. She crumpled it up in her hands and nearly screamed.

Immediately she packed her things and left the school without a word. She didn’t know what to do, or where to go but anywhere but there would preferable.

She told no-one where she had gone, and had only the little money could scrape together. It was just her, and this thing inside her that she hated, but couldn’t be rid of. The thing that she bore by a man who she knew didn’t love her- though she was once sure he might enjoy her.

Once a proud young woman, (Y/n) was now a wreched, poor mother and she hated herself more than anything. She found herself in a boarding house by the sea, far from where she wished to be and quite alone.

Most of her belongings she’d sold, and the clothes she had kept were getting tight, she was beginning to show.

She’d lived there three months before Tom had tracked her down. And when he did, he was disgusted with what he found. She was drunk, a mess. There was vomit in the sink and the room was frozen cold in the moonlight. Cold sea air flooded the room by the open window.

Her eyes, wet and stinging, fluttered open. She saw him standing over her, in a long dark coat and his face illuminated, and in her vulnerable and drunken mind she thought of no response but to scream. She screamed and he let her, until her throat was hoarse and dry. She was so ashamed to be there, with him standing over her with such a look of indignant condescension.

(Y/n) finally ran out of breath and covered her head with her arms and, like a child, attemped to hide. She could no longer run now.

Tom crouched beside her, placed a hand on hers and lifted it away, pulling her fingers out from her hair, where they were tangled.

“Don’t you look a sorry state Dear.” He said, lacking any of the charm she was used to.

“You don’t understand-” she mumbled “go away.” She begged. “Go away!” She shouted at him, like she couldn’t have dared to before.

“I do, my dear, I know what’s happening. Did you think I noticed nothing? That I know nothing?” He was firm in his words, louder than he was usually and his grip on her hand tightened. “Now stop. There’ll be no more drinking-” His voice raised and the look in his eyes scared her into silence. He picked up a bottle, empty, that lay nearby and threw it across the room. It smashed with a deafening crash and (Y/n) flinched, closing her eyes tight.

“Look at me.” He instructed, but she was too inebriated and scared to, so repeated himself, getting closer to her face and shouting. “Look at me!” She squeaked and opened her eyes wide. “You’re carrying my child, aren’t you?” Their eyes were locked in an awful stare, but still (Y/n) nodded and her hands shook.

His voice softened again as he let go of her hand and backed away a little. He nodded with her, taking a deep breath. “Alright.” Tom’s face softened too, into nothing more than thoughtful neutrality, as he looked away from the girl.

“There’ll be no more of this.” He said, quietly. “What were you doing drinking this filth? Trying to get rid of it?” He asked, not looking back at her. She nodded and murmured 'yes’.

“I picked you because I thought you were intelligent, and yet here you are, with such stupid ideas in your pretty little head.” Tom mused as he stood. “I just wanted my fun, but this will just have to be part of the plan.” He smirked, before leaning down, pulling (Y/n) up by the shoulders and pressing his lips against hers breifly. He pulled away and looked at her face, the desired reaction had been forced. All of a sudden she had hope again and it was painful how in love with him she was, though she had no reason to be.

From then on, as she grew, she obeyed, loyally. She lived where Tom moved her to, a small lodgings in Southwark, two rooms where Tom would visit her on occasion.

She didn’t drink again, she didn’t dare. She instead spent her time preparing for her child to be born. She was terrified, and yet excited.

(Y/n) wanted to please him, she loved him.

Often, Tom would only stay for a few minutes, or send someone else in his place, to check on the girl, but sometimes he would stay. She would saver every tender kiss, every moment.

Maybe it was only convenience, no more and nothing else, but he knew that he should feign affection to keep her around, and cooperative. Maybe some part of him wanted her to have some happiness, maybe he cared a little. Maybe it wasn’t enough, but it worked, she stayed.

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Hey Football Heads! Here is my latest entry in fanfiction!!
It’s basically a rewrite of The Movie, but it’s a Spider-Man AU.
Yes, Spider-Man.
I had some ideas and for the life of me I couldn’t put it out of my brain, so I wrote it down. It came from this post from a drawing on tumblr
I don’t really have a schedule for this, but if people like the start I will continue. I do procrastinate, so no promises on creating one.

One last thing before we start. Everything happened in the series except for April Fool’s Day, The Journal, and The Jungle Movie is canon and the original cast is aged up to their Junior Year of high school.

Links: AO3

Prologue: An Ode to Steely Phil

Hillwood was always welcoming in the spring, but the summer was getting closer.

The next heatwave is predicted to come sometime in the near future and the citizens of the city under its newest protectors are waiting now more than ever for it to come. The last of the coldest afternoons were almost behind them, they are ready to shed their comfy jackets for shorter sleeves. They all feel prepared this time, including the trees that had finally shed the skin of their petals that were now a thinly laid sheet over the grass and strewn, like confetti, against the pavement of Hillwood’s city streets.

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Summary: Tom Riddle does not often find himself intrigued by anything at Professor Slughorn’s parties, but tonight’s is a little different.

Rating/Warnings: T (references to drinking to excess, murder, and fantastic racism (mostly against centaurs in the particular case, but it’s still Voldemort so))

This was supposed to be a prequel to Eyes because someone asked for one, but I couldn’t think of anything and this definitely doesn’t mesh with that.

Notes: This one shot contains a very brief shout out to my favorite Sue fic of all time. If you’re this OC’s creator, please know that I love your story very, very much, and this is not at all meant to be a “take that.” I hope you are doing well on your new account and that you’re still writing!


Hogwarts seemed so large and so important when first a young Tom Riddle had arrived at its gates so long ago. Back then, the castle had been full to bursting with secrets just waiting for him to unlock, knowledge just waiting for him to find—and unlock those secrets and find that knowledge he had. Nothing was beyond the abilities of the heir of Salazar Slytherin. He learned, he watched, he probed. But upon what should have been a triumphant return for the second half of his sixth year, he found the school somehow diminished in his eyes. No longer could he grow his reach inside its walls, not when he remained subject to the whims and scrutiny of his instructors.

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Originally posted by ofnifflersandkings

Summary: He just loves to tease you, doesn’t he?

Rating/Warnings: All

Challenge:  "25 days of Christmas" Challenge by Sweet-n-Chaotic on Lunaescence Archives.

Notes: I saw all of one season of Daredevil on Netflix and decided it wasn’t for me, so this is another one where my knowledge of the subject matter is pretty limited. Also, I am not blind, so if there’s something I did bad here, please feel free to let me know! Just looking at this I had several flubs from writing it last year. Those have been removed, but I can always remove or change more.


You pulled into a miraculously empty parking spot one December afternoon with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. A mall was just about the last place you wanted to be in the middle of holiday shopping season, but you didn’t have much choice. Your work Christmas party was that night, and you had to have something to present for the last minute gift exchange. If the crowds and noise must be waded through, you could do the wading. Matt, on the other hand…

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Wow, if I was a mean person, I would make this the ending to Descent. It’s actually making me a bit emotional. But I can’t do that to myself or ya’ll ^^’ 

but damn, i don’t know if i can get this same level of emotion in the final chapter ( ͡ಥ ͜ʖ ͡ಥ) 

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Good evening, Anon! And welcome to fic writing—I hope you’ve enjoyed your stay thus far! And you’re correct in assuming how people feel about their past work is going to be highly variable.

I have a critical eye for my own past work that’s hard to turn off. I’ve been writing for eight years, so there’s a lot of clumsy writing and plot holes in my earlier works that make them…difficult to reread at times, but they were all ultimately labors of love. If I hadn’t written kinda poorly then, then I wouldn’t be writing kinda alright now. I try and look at my earlier work charmingly clumsy stepping stones that still got me to where I am today.  

Plus, they’re also little tethers to my past selves in a way. Even if I don’t jive with a fandom I once wrote for, always having a link to a brief moment in time when I was feeling creative, and inspired, and happy, is nice.

Anyone else have thoughts? Esp you fic author veterans?  

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I did it!! Proud to say that I managed to write over 50,000 words this month during NaNoWriMo. The month isn’t even over yet, and nor is my fic! Currently writing Chapter 22/26 of my ROUGH first drafts. I’m impressed with myself, I honestly didn’t think I could manage to write every single day, let alone reach 50K! I’m excited to keep going so I can get this fic out there in 2021!

I can’t end this post without a big shout out to @desivalkyrie for introducing me to NaNoWriMo and encouraging me to give a shot and to keep on writing. None of this would have been possible otherwise, and I’d probably still be procrastinating even starting this fic.

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