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sadnymi · 1 month

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「 ✦ cloud nine p2.✦ 」

Mattheo riddle × reader [part1]

Summary: The "jinx girl," as they call her, is said to bring bad luck. However, when Mattheo Riddle decides to get to know the school's most neglected girl and takes matters into his own hands, Y/N's life is turned upside down in a mere night.

Warnings:angst, smut, fluff

Words: 13.5k

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[ A Cry for Help (and Hippogriffs)]

Dear Uncle Ben ,

Consider this my official "You were absolutely right (but with way more heartbreak)" letter. Remember all those warnings you showered me with before I left for Hogwarts? Werewolves, Dementors, rogue Gillyweed incidents (honestly, who even uses that stuff anymore?) You covered the whole spectrum of nightmarish magical creatures. But why, oh why, did you neglect to warn me about charming Slytherins with a really really pretty smiles and the ability to shatter hearts ?

Yes, Uncle Ben, your favorite niece (and, let's be honest, only niece) has officially fallen from cloud nine and landed face-first in a puddle of disappointment. Remember Mattheo Riddle? The one with the eyes like melted chocolate and a smile that could disarm a grumpy Hippogriff? Turns out….well, you get the picture. My heart is in as many pieces as a poorly repaired Floo Network."

So, here's the thing, Uncle Ben . **I'm done. Hogwarts can keep its feasts, its Quidditch matches, and its overly enthusiastic Potions lessons.** I wouldn't be caught dead on the Hogwarts Express, and frankly, the Burrow isn't exactly calling my name right now either.

This is where you come in, my valiant (and hopefully broomstick-wielding) savior. **I need an extraction, Uncle Ben . A daring rescue. A grand exit that would make even Dumbledore raise an eyebrow.** Floo powder me out? Sneak me aboard a disguised Thestral? Honestly, at this point, I'd even settle for a well-timed Hippogriff stampede (though maybe not – those beaks look awfully sharp).

So please uncle Ben As soon as this letter reaches your extraordinary hands, pack your Niffler leash, your Newt-approved travel kettle, and anything else that might help

Your distraught (and slightly heartbroken) niece,

Y/N

P.S. Please bring some Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans. Maybe a chocolate frog or two wouldn't hurt either.

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After folding the letter with care, I sealed it using a wax stamp adorned with a grumpy-looking Kneazle, a delightful creation from a talented first-year Hufflepuff. Placing it inside an owl-sized envelope addressed to "Benjamin Scamander, Ministry of Magical Creatures, Department for Beast Regulation and Control," I sent it off with a silent prayer for a speedy rescue.

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Y/N

Consider it done. Talon wasn't thrilled about the Beans (apparently, they don't quite mesh with his sophisticated palate), but the chocolate frogs seemed to appease him. Be ready by nightfall. We'll have a proper family reunion, Hippogriff style.

P.S. Don't worry about any "Hippogriff stampedes." Talon's surprisingly well-mannered (for the most part).

Love,

Uncle Ben

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After two blissful days away from Hogwarts at Uncle Ben's cozy cottage in the Welsh hills, I woke up to find him bustling about the room. Despite the comfort and serenity of our time together, I couldn't shake off the tears that stained his (probably very expensive) linens.

He lumbered in, a steaming mug clutched in his hand, followed by a bewildered-looking Billywig (apparently, they weren't exactly known for their graceful exits).

"Here," he said kindly, placing the mug on the bedside table. "Peppermint tea. Guaranteed to cure a broken heart… or at least numb it a bit."

I took a shaky sip, the warmth spreading through me like a gentle hug. Uncle Ben perched on the edge of the bed, concern evident in his gaze that battled with his usual amusement.

"Alright, spill it," he finally said, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "What's got you blubbering like a Bowtruckle caught in a rainstorm?"

I choked on a sob, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. "It's just… everything. Mattheo… the rumors… the whole thing feels so stupid."

"Stupid? Sweetheart, this is practically a textbook case of teenage wizarding drama!," Uncle Ben said with a chuckle.

"First, the rumors. Turns out Charlie Spinnet, fancies you and that by the way explains the sudden change in cologne and his haircut whenever he visits. But then instead of acting like a normal human being, he decided to spread those ridiculous stories about you being a jinx?"

I nodded, sniffling. "And then there's Riddle Jr.," Uncle Ben continued, his voice laced with a hint of disapproval. "Used you for a dare? Honestly, these Slytherins – where's the chivalry gone? Back in my day, we at least serenaded our crushes with a well-timed love potion, not a staged play."

"I know right? !" I cried, wiping away fresh tears, he come closer pulling me into a warm hug.

When the last tear finally dried, a heavy silence settled between us. My eyelids drooped, exhaustion pulling me under. "Uncle Ben," I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep, "Can I… can I leave Hogwarts?"

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. "Is that what you want, Y/N?"

"I don't… I don't want to see him, or them, or…" My voice trailed off, the thought of facing whispers and pitying glances unbearable.

He squeezed my hand gently. "There are other schools, Y/N. Places where you can learn, grow, and maybe even find someone who truly appreciates you."

A flicker of hope sparked within me. A fresh start? A chance to heal away from the prying eyes and judgmental whispers? "Do you think… could I transfer… maybe to Beauxbatons?"

Uncle Ben chuckled. "Beauxbatons? Now that's an interesting choice. But hey, if you fancy learning with a bunch of wand-waving fashionistas, who am I to say no?"

The crisp Welsh air whipped through my hair as I sat on the porch swing, watching the sun set over the rolling hills. Uncle Ben's cottage, nestled amongst ancient oaks, seemed even cozier with the warm, orange light bathing its stone walls.

Thankfully, he'd managed to smooth things over with my parents, convincing them it would be perfect for me to stay with him until I figured out what to do about school.

Weeks melted into each other, and a unsettling undercurrent began to ripple through the otherwise idyllic setting. Every boy who showed even a flicker of interest in me or mustered the courage to ask me out –vanished after our initial encounter. Poof. Gone.

Only to reappear the next day, looking sheepish and pale, with mumbled apologies for missing our planned date . "something came up" or a sudden "family emergency."

kind, awkward Liam, sporty William , even that quiet bookworm Ethan – they all faced the same fate , a freckled boy named Callum, practically leaped over a nearby toadstool with a yelp, his face blanching as if he'd seen a ghost. It was as though the sight of the bumpy amphibian unearthed a buried terror within him.

And it’s seems like anyone who would show any interest in me will face the same fate

Case in point: a particular book I had discussed with a boy who worked at the library and had also asked me out for a date. The next day, that very book was on uncle Ben leaving room the next day and I knew for sure that uncle Ben wasn’t the one who did that .

Curiosity piqued, I went to the library to inquire about the book's whereabouts, only to find the boy in a state of sheer terror. He avoided eye contact and stammered out a nervous apology, his fear palpable in the way he trembled. It was as if he had encountered something terrifying, something that left him traumatized overnight. Unsettled by the encounter, I sought help from another library assistant to locate the book I wanted. This time, the assistant was more than eager to assist, his eyes darting around nervously as if expecting something unexpected to happen again.

Weeks dragged by, each day a monotonous echo of the last.

As I wake up today a tear slipped down my cheek, tracing a warm path through the cool morning air. I cursed myself under my breath, blinking furiously to clear my vision. There it was again, the lingering echo of his touch, the warmth of his smile, all remnants of a cruel dream.

Damn it. I cursed myself under my breath, throwing the covers back with a huff. How dare I miss him? How dare my traitorous subconscious paint him in a loving light after everything? The betrayal, the lies, they were all still raw, a constant reminder of his deceit.

Feeling the need for some solace and quiet reflection, I decided to head to the library

The usually a comforting haven, was eerily silent. A prickle of unease crawled up my spine. Did the boy who worked here quit ? Thanks a lot, Mattheo.

Pushing open the library doors, I was greeted by an unsettling emptiness. Pushing the thought aside, I navigated the towering bookshelves, half expecting some kind of magical mishap – maybe a rogue pixie infestation? With a spine-tingling creak. An unsettling feeling wormed its way into my stomach. Surely Johnny, the cute boy who worked here, wouldn't leave the entire library unattended?

"Hello, Johnny?" I called out, my voice echoing eerily in the vast space. No answer. Great. Just fantastic.

Shrugging it off, I ventured deeper into the labyrinth of bookshelves. The silence pressed in on me, broken only by the soft pad of my footsteps. Halfway expecting a rogue Acromantula to drop from the ceiling or a mischievous pixie to trip me with a strategically placed shoelace, I navigated the towering stacks.

Suddenly, a loud creak pierced the silence. My heart lurched, and I spun around, wand instinctively halfway out of my pocket. The heavy library door swung shut with an ominous finality. For a moment, I stood frozen, every nerve on high alert. Was I alone?

and there he was ... His usual playful smirk was replaced by a furrowed brow and a flicker of something… hurt? Regret? It was a confusing cocktail that sent my carefully constructed facade teetering on the edge of collapse.

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, threatening to burst from my chest. My carefully crafted mask of indifference felt like it was cracking under the sheer force of seeing him.

the silence of the library seemed deafening, amplifying the chaotic symphony playing out inside me.

I plastered a smile on my face, hoping it came across as confident and not the terrified mess I truly felt. This was ridiculous. He was the one who lied and betrayed me, not the other way around. Yet, here I was, feeling like I was the one on trial.

"Dramatic much?" I spat, my voice laced with venom. "So what's the deal now, Riddle? Bored with your little toad transformation hobby? Decided to haunt the library instead?"

He gave me a slow once-over, his gaze lingering a beat too long. It sent a shiver down my spine, a confusing mix of anger and a vulnerability I desperately tried to suppress.

Folding my arms, I tried to project an air of annoyance. "Look, Riddle," I said, forcing a harsher tone than I felt. "Let's cut to the chase. Open the door and disappear."

As he took a tentative step towards me, the carefully constructed wall around my emotions started to crumble. His eyes held a depth of emotion I couldn't decipher – hurt? Regret? It was a confusing mix that threatened to unravel me.

"You never mentioned you were a Scamander," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. The sound of it after all this time, even laced with the echoes of past pain, was a punch to the gut.

-well technically I was from my mother side but i never dared to say that to anyone afraid to bring shame to the family name , because I never felt like I deserved to.

Tears pricked at the back of my eyelids, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of my lips. "And you," I choked out, the words raw with hurt, "never mentioned being fucking liar . Seems like we're even, wouldn't you agree?"

he started to speak. "I know you don’t want to listen—"

Frustration bubbled over before he could finish his sentence. "Why are you even here, Riddle?" I snapped. "You know I don't want to hear your excuses."

His gaze held mine, unwavering despite the storm brewing in my own eyes.

"Stop staring at me like that!" I hissed, the vulnerability I desperately tried to hide threatening to spill over.

Desperate to break the tension, I lunged for the door, yanking on the handle. Panic surged as it remained stubbornly shut. "What's wrong with this stupid door?" I yelled, "We can't use magic outside Hogwarts!" I exclaimed, bewildered. "Did you do something to the door?" Kicking it with my foot in frustration.

Spinning back to face him, my voice trembled with a mix of fury and fear. "What did you do to those boys, Mattheo? Turned them into toads?"

A smirk played on his lips, a sight that only intensified my urge to lash out. "Not all of them," he countered, his voice laced with a hint of something… jealousy? "Why? Do you care about them?"

“Apparently I did “I challenged, my voice laced with a bitterness I couldn't hide, "That's why I agreed to go out with them in the first place."

His smugness evaporated, replaced by a desperate plea that sent a shiver down my spine. "Don't go to Beauxbatons, love," he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper, laced with such raw emotion it threatened to crack the dam of my anger ,considering his impressive stalking skills I wasn’t surprised he knew about that ..

"Don't call me that, Riddle," I choked out, squeezing my eyes shut to hold back the traitorous tears that welled up. When I opened them again, the sight that greeted me was my breaking point.

Hurt, confusion, and a flicker of something that looked suspiciously like longing swirled in his eyes. "Why - why did you keep calling me that? Why not say my name?" he asked, his voice thick with a pain that mirrored my own.

"It's just Riddle for me now ," I said, my voice cold, a desperate attempt to shield myself from the storm of emotions brewing within me.

"Please," he whispered, the word hanging heavy in the air. "Please don't go to Beauxbatons."

"Get out of my way," I snapped, my voice laced with a venom I barely recognized. "I won't say it again."

He took a hesitant step forward, his eyes pleading. "I'm not above begging," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I'll do anything you ask. You say you hate me, then hate me. Ruin my life. Do whatever will make you feel better, just do it in front of me. Stay at Hogwarts."

Shock rendered me speechless. "Don't do this," he continued, his voice cracking. "Not for me, but for you. Don't run away. If anyone deserves to leave Hogwarts, it's not you. Please, don't do this."

His words hung heavy in the air, each one a shard of truth that pierced the carefully constructed wall of anger I'd built around myself. "Let go of my hand, Mattheo," I whispered, not daring to look at him. He released me slowly, his touch a lingering ghost on my skin.

The silence stretched on, heavy and thick. Finally, I forced myself to meet his gaze. My own eyes, red-rimmed and tear-filled, mirrored the raw emotion in his. With a shaky breath, I whispered, "Open the door now , please."

He nodded, his face etched with pain. The door swung open silently, and for a moment, our eyes locked. Then, without a word, I turned and walked towards the door.

But before I reached the doorway, a new urgency filled his voice. "Y/N, wait!" He reached out a hand, but stopped himself before making contact. "I know I messed up. There's no excuse for what I did, but please believe me – I love you. And I'm not giving us up. I'll do whatever it takes to prove it to you."

The weight of his words hung in the air, a challenge and a plea rolled into one. My heart pounded a frantic rhythm against my ribs, Taking a deep. I turned and walked out, leaving Mattheo standing alone in the empty library.

Reaching Uncle Ben's cozy cottage, I fumbled with the latch, my vision obscured by a fresh wave of tears. The door creaked open to reveal Uncle Ben, his face creasing in concern at the sight of me. Before I could even think of a response, I was enveloped in his warm, familiar embrace.

"Merlin's beard, Y/N," he chuckled, his voice laced with concern, "what happened? Did you lose a duel with a particularly grumpy pixie?"

Pulling back, I managed a watery smile. "Something like that," I mumbled, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. Uncle Ben's gaze narrowed, his playful demeanor replaced by a more serious one.

"You know, all this tears and sniffles could lead one to believe…"

He paused dramatically, dragging out the suspense. "You are not pregnant, are you?”

"Pregnant? Uncle Ben, seriously?"

He threw his head back and laughed, a booming sound that filled the room. "Just checking! Seriously that world won’t survive another riddle “

We sat in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound the crackling fire in the hearth.

"You know," he finally said, his voice gentle, "sometimes the heart wants what it wants, regardless of past hurts." He met my gaze, his eyes filled with a knowing warmth. "The question is, Y/N, what does yours truly want?"

"I don't really know," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "One thing's for sure, though. I'm done running. I can't keep letting fear dictate my life."

“Every time something gets hard, I pack my metaphorical bags and vanish. But this time… this time it feels different."

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. "There's this anger inside me, this need for revenge," I confessed, letting out a shaky breath. "It scares me, Uncle Ben. "

Uncle Ben reached for me his hand warm and comforting on mine. "There's a difference, Y/N, between righteous anger and destructive vengeance," he said softly. "Anger can be a powerful motivator, a fuel that can propel you forward. But it's crucial to channel it, to use it to grow stronger, not to let it control you."

Turning to him, I met his gaze with a newfound determination. "So," I started, a mischievous glint sparkling in my eyes, "would you help me pack up my bags for Hogwarts? And maybe... with something 'Scamander related' ?"

A playful smile mirrored mine on his face. "Always up for a good mystery, Y/N," .

The Hogwarts Express journey wasn't the gauntlet of whispers and pointed fingers I'd braced myself for. The carriage felt eerily quiet, devoid of the usual gossipy chatter and giggling. A part of me wondered if this unsettling silence was Mattheo's doing.

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I rounded the corner, the familiar brick facade of the school looming ahead. Taking a deep breath.

I saw him.

He was leaning against the oak tree by the entrance, a casual posture that couldn't quite hide the tension in his shoulders. His gaze was fixed on the school doors, and for a thrilling moment, I thought I might have imagined him there.

But then, our eyes met.

His breath hitched ever so slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before a slow smile bloomed on his face. It wasn't a wide, dazzling grin, but a soft, genuine one that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

The next morning, a nervous energy thrummed through me. Gone was the urge to flee; instead, a steely determination burned bright. I arrived at Charms class, ridiculously early, senses sharp with focus.

Adrian Pucey sauntered in, brow furrowed. "Y/N? What are you doing here so early? Malfoy's the one meeting me," he said, surprise flickering in his eyes.

"Just eager for Charms," I replied coolly. "and you said Malfoy ? No idea, really”

Actually I was the one who wrote him the fake note with Malfoy’s name to come earlier.

He cleared his throat, avoiding my gaze. "Look, about what happened , believe me what Mattheo did to me after was enough to ——"

"Don't worry about it, Adrian," I interrupteda sly smile playing on my lips."Things happen."

His surprise deepened. "You...you forgive me that easily?"

Pulling a cupcake from my bag, I offered it. "Freshly baked. Want some?"

Hesitantly, he took a bite. "Sure, thanks."

"Did you know," I said casually, "Flobberworm milk compels truth?" I winked.

Stepping closer, cupcake in hand, I re-offered it. "Second chances deserve a second cupcake, wouldn't you say?"

He hesitated, then took another bite. "Thanks," he mumbled, cheeks warming.

"Speaking of truth-telling," I said, leaning in conspiratorially, "did you know the tears of a phoenix can be used to create a voice projection charm? Like, if I whispered something to a cupcake with phoenix tears baked in, and you ate it, you'd hear it in your mind ."

He blinked, clearly unsure whether to believe me or not.

"Curious, isn't it," I murmured, "the things you can learn when you spend your summer with magical creatures."

Adrian stammered, "Wh-what have you done?"

"Ever wonder what happens when a Hufflepuff marries a Slytherin?" I continued, savoring his confusion.

A playful glint entered my eyes. "Well, for one, someone might get a taste of their own medicine," I quoted my mother with a smirk.

He attempted nonchalance. "Kids would be too good for Slytherin, not quite Hufflepuff."

"And that," I said, a triumphant smile blooming, "is where things get interesting. Especially with a Scamander in the mix.”

I continued, a triumphant grin spreading across my face.“And what happens when you push a Scamander kid too far?" I continued, a triumphant grin spreading across my face. "They use their knowledge, their magical creatures... and maybe a touch of Slytherin cunning for a little revenge.

He backed away, eyes wide.

The bell clanged, shattering the playful tension between Adrian and me. Professor Flitwick,bustled in, his voluminous black robes billowing around him like a miniature storm cloud.

"Good morning, class!" he boomed, "Today, we delve into the fascinating art of Wandless Charms! A skill that separates the truly magical from the...well, let's just say it requires a certain finesse."

Professor Flitwick launched into a lively lecture, demonstrating simple levitation charms with a flourish. As he conjured a teacup to pirouette in the air, I noticed Adrian fidgeting in his seat. Leaning in, I whispered playfully, "Enjoying the class, are we, Pucey?"

He shot me a panicked glance, then mumbled something inaudible. Taking a deep breath, I decided to push my luck a little further. With a mischievous glint in my eyes, I mouthed, "Tell the truth about what you feel of this class ."

Suddenly, Adrian's hand shot up, waving wildly. Professor Flitwick, momentarily distracted, peered over his thick spectacles at the unexpected outburst.

"Mr. Pucey?" he inquired, a quizzical eyebrow raised.

"Professor," Adrian blurted out, his voice surprisingly loud in the quiet room, "I hate Charms! It's useless and frankly, you're a terrible teacher!"

Suddenly, a loud, booming voice erupted from Adrian's mouth, echoing through the entire classroom. "I HATE CHARMS! It's the most useless class ever, I CHEATED on the exam LAST YEAR, and And I've been doing everything just to be the center of attention. I've lied, manipulated, and stepped on others to make myself look better."!"

The entire class erupted in stunned silence, followed by a wave of uncontrollable laughter. Adrian's jaw hung slack, his eyes wide with horror.

Professor Flitwick, his face purple with rage, sputtered, his fist raised in the air. "Mr. Pucey! Ten points from Slytherin! Detention for a month! And perhaps a visit to Madam Pomfrey to check your sanity!"

Adrian sunk deeper into his seat, the laughter morphing into snickers and whispers

The laughter slowly faded, replaced by the echoes of Professor Flitwick's threats. I couldn't help but stifle a triumphant smirk. Adrian practically resembled a puddle of misery in his seat, the color completely drained from his face. Mission accomplished.

Just as I reached the aisle, a hand shot out, grabbing my waist in a surprisingly firm grip. Before I could yelp in surprise, two strong hands was on either side of me , pinning me against the cool stone wall. I found myself staring into the eyes of none other than Mattheo .

"That," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine, "was fucking hot."

He brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear with his thumb, Our gazes locked, the air crackling with sudden awareness.

My gaze remained steely, unflinching. "You liked that?" I challenged, my voice laced with a dangerous edge.

"I like everything you do," he replied with a smirk.

"Good," I said, leaning in closer, my voice barely a whisper. "Because that was just child's play. compared to what I'm planning for you, Riddle"

The bell echoed through the hallway, shattering the moment. Mattheo reluctantly released me, a hint of something akin to fascination flickering in his eyes. "Can’t wait my love ," he winked, a mischievous glint sparkling within, before disappearing into the throng of students.

My success with Adrian fueled a mischievous fire within me. The thrill of using magical creatures for a little payback was intoxicating. Professor Flitwick's class became my testing ground, a petri dish for brewing delightful chaos.

Every person who participated in the stupid play faced my revenge; none escaped unscathed.

The once dreaded nickname "Jinx Girl" had faded into a distant memory. This year, I was Lady Luck, a title whispered with a mix of awe and amusement. My string of successful pranks, each meticulously crafted with a dash of magical creature mischief, had transformed my reputation.

The whispers started subtly, like the rustling of leaves in the forbidden forest. "Did you see what happened ? Y/N's behind it, for sure!" or "Isn't it strange how everything's turned around for her lately?" It was a subtle shift, but the air crackled with a new awareness. The "Jinx Girl" label was fading, replaced by a more intriguing title - Lady Luck.

One gloomy afternoon, as I settled into a plush armchair by the crackling fire, a hesitant knock echoed through the room.

"Come in," I called out, peering over the worn pages of a Charms textbook.

The door creaked open, revealing a sheepish-looking Charlie . His blonde hair seemed to lose its usual vibrancy under the dim light, and his freckles stood out starkly against his pale face.

"Y/N," he mumbled, scuffing his worn boots on the floor. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure, Charlie," I said, patting the empty space beside me.

He shuffled in place, fiddling with his wand. "It's... well, everything. The rumors, the play, everything."

“ Look, Y/N, I'm so incredibly sorry. I know I shouldn't have spread those rumors. I... honestly, I was a complete idiot."

"I thought," Charlie continued, his voice laced with shame, "that if I spread those rumors, every boy would stay away from you. I didn't think it would get this bad."

A mixture of anger and curiosity bubbled within me. "Why, Charlie?" I asked, my voice calmer than I felt.

He took a deep breath, his gaze filled with regret. "I… I like you, Y/N a lot since we were just kids but you never noticed me ," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "And when I saw you with Mattheo, well, and after everything he did..."

He hung his head. "And the play," he mumbled. "It was me. I told Adrian about your past. I was so angry… jealous, really. After seeing you with Mattheo."

A wave of emotions washed over me. Anger for his actions, confusion for his feelings, and a spark of something else – mattheo wasn’t the one who told them about what happened .

Taking another deep breath, I met Charlie's gaze. "Those rumors hurt," I admitted, my voice firm but gentle. "And the play…" I trailed off, choosing my words carefully. "It was a low blow, Charlie. But…" I hesitated, searching for the right words.

"But you were scared," I finished, a hint of empathy softening my tone. "Jealous, even. It's okay to feel those things, Charlie."

He looked up, a flicker of hope igniting in his blue eyes. "Do you… forgive me?"

I studied him for a moment, taking in his genuine regret. "I do," I said finally. "But forgiveness doesn't erase the consequences. You hurt me, Charlie, and you hurt others I will never forget that ."

Charlie's shoulders slumped. "I know," he said, his voice filled with remorse. "I'll do anything to make it up to you."

I smiled faintly. "Please don’t do anything a normal apologize would do ."

Months had passed since I last set foot in the library, and the scent of aged paper and leather, a familiar comfort that once soothed my soul, now felt laced with a bittersweet pang. Yet, stepping back into the hushed haven felt like tumbling through a time warp. The scent of aged paper, the rhythmic tick of the grandfather clock, even the worn patches on the armchairs – everything whispered memories of Mattheo, both sweet and stinging.

the silence thrummed with echoes of hushed conversations and stolen glances. Memories of stolen moments with Mattheo – whispered secrets amongst the stacks, fingers brushing as we reached for the same book – played in a loop behind my closed eyelids.

A sigh escaped my lips as the heavy oak door shut with a soft thud behind me. The vastness of the library stretched before me, empty shelves yawning like forgotten dreams. No bustling librarians, no chattering students hunched over dusty tomes. Just me, adrift in a sea of silence, the weight of the past clinging to my every step.

But then I saw him.

Mattheo stood near the Charms section, a sly smirk twisting his lips. His eyes, usually filled with a cool amusement, held a challenge this time. A knot of tension formed in my stomach.

"You forgive him so easily," he drawled, his voice low enough to carry only between the towering bookshelves.

He gestured towards an empty space beside him, a clear invitation. My pulse quickened. Part of me wanted to whirl around and storm out, to deny him the satisfaction of any reaction. But another, more curious part, craved to know what game he was playing.

With a measured breath, I sauntered towards him, my chin held high. "Forgive who?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

He raised an eyebrow, the smirk deepening. "Come now, Y/N," he said, his voice a silky murmur. "Don't tell me you haven't had a heart-to-heart with Spinnet already."

"What do you really want, Riddle?" I demanded, my voice trembling with a mix of hurt and confusion.

Mattheo took a shaky breath, his hand reaching out hesitantly before retracting. "I can't do this anymore, Y/N," he confessed, his voice raw. "I thought if I gave you some space..."

"Space?" I scoffed, tears welling up again. "Space? You call watching me all summer, space? I know what you did to those boys, and then threatening everyone in this school on the first day to not talk or do anything to me space??" I yelled, tears streaming down my face.

The words tumbled out, fueled by a wellspring of hurt I hadn't even realized I was holding onto. "I don't understand, Mattheo! I don't really understand. I've dealt with difficult things before, truly awful things, but none of them hurt as much as this betrayal. Why? Why can't I get over it? Why does it feel like someone ripped open my soul and stomped on it a million times? Then it hit me. You did that, Mattheo. You."

My voice broke, replaced by a choked sob. "You showed me a love I never knew existed, a love I never dared to dream of , showered me with affection and tenderness. You touched parts of my soul I never knew were there. Every inch of me, every piece of me – my heart, my mind, my soul – had your name written all over it , Every fiber of my being, every beat of my heart, seemed to have your name etched upon it. And then, you snatched it all away.. They say it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, but that's a lie. Because feeling your love, then losing it, is the worst pain I've ever experienced.”

The air crackled between us, thick with unspoken emotions and the sting of my tears. Mattheo inched closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the turmoil within me. I could feel his breath whisper against my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Y/N," he pleaded, his voice husky with emotion ."I know you don't believe me," he confessed, his red- eyes searching mine .

“but this feeling... it terrifies me. I've never felt like this before. Never cared about anyone but myself and Enzo . But then you came along. The purest thing I've ever have , the closest I'll ever get to heaven."

His words hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the arrogant facade he usually presented.

"I miss you," he continued, his voice raw with longing. "I miss what we had. The way your smile could light up a room, the way your cheeks would flush the prettiest shade of pink ."

He paused, his hand hovering hesitantly near mine. "I can't do this anymore. This game... it's torture. Every stolen glance, every witty banter, it just makes the truth harder to bear. Tell me what you want me to do. Name it, anything. But please, just end this charade. It's killing me “

A tremor ran through him, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of genuine fear in his eyes.

He looked at me for a second, taking a shaky breath. Then, the words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered. "I love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm not afraid to say it anymore. I regret not approaching you properly, i regret taking that stupid dare ."

His gaze held mine, desperate for any sign of reciprocation. "You asked if everything between us was a lie," he continued, his voice low. "But listen to me now. You're the truest thing that's ever happened to me. I love you, Y/N. And I can't stand there watching you, knowing I can't hold you. I never wanted to hurt you, And I promise, I'll never let anyone hurt you again"

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo in the quiet library. Every fiber of my being yearned to believe him, to reach out and melt into his embrace. But the betrayal was still fresh, a gaping wound that pulsed with pain.

"I can't trust you anymore, Mattheo," I choked out, the words a bitter truth. "Even if I want to, I can't. Every word you say feels like another lie. I hate you," I confessed, the words ripping from my throat. "I hate you so much for making me want to forgive you. I hate you because I love you so much."

"Don't cry," he pleaded, his voice thick with a desperate sincerity. "I'll do anything. Just say it, and I'll do it."

The promise hung in the air, tempting and dangerous. I reached up and covered his hand with mine, the warmth seeping into my chilled skin. Despite the storm raging inside me, a small part of me craved the comfort of his touch, the solace of forgiveness.

"Then let me go, Mattheo," I whispered, the words tasting like ashes in my mouth. "Let me go. Don't approach me. Don't try to fix anything. Just let me go."

The pain in his eyes mirrored the turmoil within me. "Is that what you truly want?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

I could only nod, a fresh wave of tears cascading down my face. Every part of me ached to forget the past, to bury my head in his chest and feel the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat. But the betrayal was a wall I couldn't climb over, not yet.

"Then I will do it ,love." He brushed away my tears one last time, his touch lingering for a heartbreaking moment before he took a step back. The pain in his eyes was a something i could never forget.

He gave me one last, lingering look before turning and leaving the library, the heavy oak door closing with a finality that echoed the slamming shut of my own heart. The air hung heavy with unspoken emotions, the weight of my decision pressing down on me.

My revenge, I realized with a bitter pang, tasted worse than Flobberworm milk and phonics tears on cupcakes. But in that moment, I didn't realize that in punishing him, I was condemning myself to an equally excruciating torture

Days bled into weeks, each one stretching out with the agonizing slowness of a Dementor's kiss. What I had envisioned as a sweet victory – Mattheo squirming under the weight of my indifference – felt more like a self-inflicted Cruciatus Curse.

The once-familiar halls of Hogwarts became a minefield of awkward silences and stolen glances. Every corner held the ghost of his laughter, every shadowed alcove whispered echoes of his touch. Avoiding him became a constant, exhausting dance.

In Herbology, Professor Sprout droned on about the magical properties of Bubotuber pus, but all I could focus on was the empty space beside me. It had become a glaring absence, a constant reminder of the warmth that used to be there.

Across the room, I could feel his gaze burning into me. But when I dared to steal a glance, his head would be bent diligently over his textbook, his jaw clenched tight. It was a practiced act of indifference, a mask that mirrored the one I wore.

Lunch in the Great Hall was an ordeal. I'd scan the long Slytherin table, searching for any sign of him. Relief would flood me when I wouldn't see him, only to be replaced by a hollow pang of disappointment.

One day, as I shuffled through the crowded hallway, I felt a presence looming behind me. My heart hammered a frantic tattoo against my ribs. I quickened my pace, clutching my books tighter, willing myself to disappear. But the presence remained, a silent taunt.

Finally, unable to bear the suspense any longer, I chanced a peek over my shoulder. My stomach lurched. It was him, his face a stony mask, his eyes fixed on a point far beyond me. He sidestepped me with practiced ease, not even a flicker of recognition in his gaze.

The charade was relentless. In Potions, Professor Snape's scathing remarks seemed muted compared to the deafening silence between Mattheo and me. We brewed our Draught of Peace with a silent intensity, each movement a calculated act of avoidance.

The whispers started subtly, like the rustle of leaves in a slight breeze. "Did you see them? Not a single word!" one student would murmur to another. Soon, the whispers morphed into open stares, the entire school buzzing with the unspoken tension between us.

It was as if by avoiding each other, we'd created a spectacle far more dramatic than any confrontation could have been. The unspoken longing, the raw emotions hanging heavy in the air – it was a story more captivating than any Quidditch match.

What hurt the most ? I couldn't escape the feeling that everyone else was living their lives, while mine was trapped in this agonizing purgatory of unspoken emotions and a love I couldn't embrace or deny.

The silence between us was deafening, a reminder of the bond we'd shattered. My carefully crafted revenge felt hollow, a Pyrrhic victory that left me as desolate as the empty space beside him. The ache in my chest had little to do with anger and everything to do with a longing I couldn't name.

Then came the worst part. It wasn't just the awkward silences or stolen glances at him interacting with others. It was the way the girls around me perked up, their smiles a bit too wide, their laughter a bit too forced. They saw the distance between Mattheo and me, the void where his presence used to be, as an open invitation.

Professor Sprout's well-meaning attempt to pair us up for a project backfired spectacularly.

Mattheo, his usual smirk replaced by a practiced indifference, meticulously tended to his Venomous Tentacula while I wrestled with a particularly stubborn Flobberworm. The silence between us was thicker than the sap dripping from the Bubotuber pus. We moved with a practiced efficiency, avoiding eye contact, our movements a painful ballet of unspoken hurt and when he was finally done with his part he left without even glancing at me .

Across the room, laughter erupted. A pretty brunette girl, Astoria Greengrass, leaned in conspiratorially towards Mattheo, a giggle escaping her lips. He threw his head back, a genuine smile lighting up his face, a sight that sent a spike of jealousy through me.

My Flobberworm wriggled free, sending a spray of dirt flying. Professor Sprout's raised eyebrow and stern lecture were a welcome distraction from the scene unfolding across the room. The warmth in Mattheo's laughter, the ease with which he interacted with Astoria, was a sharp contrast to the icy distance he maintained with me.

The worst part, however, wasn't the girls themselves. It was the way they looked at me – a mixture of pity and smug satisfaction. Their gazes seemed to say, "See? Now you see what you had and threw away."

Another day, another ordeal. During Charms, a boy from Ravenclaw, Michael Corner, sidled up to me, his voice a steady stream of nervous chatter. He droned on about the upcoming Quidditch match, his words blurring into background noise.

Across the room, I stole a glance at Matteo. He sat slumped in his chair, his gaze fixed on the textbook in front of him. But a flicker of movement caught my eye. His jaw clenched slightly, knuckles turning white as he gripped the book. He didn't turn towards me, didn't acknowledge Michael's presence. It was as if I, and the boy beside me, simply ceased to exist.

A pang of something akin to disappointment shot through me. Was this truly what he’s doing ? erasing me from his memory? The silence between us, once deafening, now felt suffocating. I craved a reaction, anything to break the monotony of our charade.

Days bled into weeks, each one a monotonous echo of the last. Lunch in the Great Hall was an exercise in self-torture. I sat with some girls from my class , their cheery chatter a stark contrast to the turmoil within me.

Across the room, Mattheo sat with a group of Slytherins, his usual arrogance back in place. He spoke in hushed tones, his eyes scanning the room. Did they land on me? I couldn't tell, wouldn't allow myself to hope.

Suddenly, Draco Malfoy sauntered over, a smirk playing on his lips. He leaned in, whispering something in Mattheo's ear, his gaze flickering towards me. A flicker of something – anger, maybe? – crossed Mattheo's face before he schooled his features back into indifference.

Draco's smirk widened, punctuated by a loud laugh. The sound grated on my nerves, a confirmation that he had successfully moved on, leaving me drowning in the wreckage of our broken connection.

The once vibrant halls of Hogwarts had become a constant reminder of what I'd lost. The whispers, the pointed looks, the morbid fascination with our unspoken war – it all felt suffocating. The silence between us, once deafening, now resonated with a profound emptiness.

In my quest for revenge, I had succeeded in destroying not just him, but a part of myself. And as I stared across the Great Hall, the bitter truth settled in – the only thing more unbearable than his betrayal was his indifference.

The ache in my core pulsed with every stolen glance at Matteo. A single, accidental lock of eyes during Charms was all it took to reignite the inferno I'd thought I'd extinguished. The familiar heat bloomed in my cheeks, spreading downwards, a stark reminder of the raw, physical connection we shared.

Driven by an insatiable hunger, I succumbed to temptation, seeking solace in the darkness of night. With trembling hands, I slipped my fingers inside my pants, yearning for the touch of his hands upon my skin. But no matter how fervently I imagined his touch, it was futile, a poor substitute for the real thing.

His absence loomed large in my mind, a constant reminder of the void he had left behind. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I grappled with the overwhelming sense of loss, longing for the warmth of his embrace.

In the silence of my room, I cried myself to sleep, the weight of my unfulfilled desires weighing heavily upon me. No matter how hard I tried to bury them, the flames of passion continued to burn, fueled by the memory of his touch.

The next day crawled by, each tick of the clock echoing the heavy weight in my chest. Just as I contemplated escaping to the familiar comfort of the Slytherin common room, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows of the deserted hallway – Enzo.

His usual carefree air was replaced by a somberness that mirrored my own. "Y/N," he started hesitantly, his voice uncharacteristically unsure.

"Enzo, hi," I greeted nervously. "Are you... are you alright?"

He paused, his gaze flickering with concern. "I need to talk to you," he finally said, his voice low.

"Sure," I whispered, a nervous smile tugging at my lips.

He gestured towards an empty classroom beside us. We entered, the silence suddenly thick and heavy.

"It's about Mattheo," he began, his voice dropping even lower.

My heart hammered against my ribs,

"What about him?" I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Enzo took a deep breath, his gaze flickering with an emotion I couldn't decipher. "He — He has a really dangerous disease Y/N," he blurted out, the words heavy in the quiet hallway.

Enzo's words hit me like a Stunning Spell. My breath caught in my throat, the air suddenly thick with a suffocating weight. Disease? Mattheo? It couldn't be true. The anger that had simmered within me for weeks flickered, threatened by a spark of something else – a flicker of fear, of a terrible, dawning realization.

"Disease?" I choked out, the word barely a whisper.

Enzo nodded. "Serious. He doesn't know how long..." He trailed off, his voice thick with emotion. "But he's getting worse every day. Refused to tell you himself, stubborn git."

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring Enzo's concerned face. "He never said anything," I choked out, my voice thick with emotion. "He wouldn't even look at me."

Enzo sighed, a deep rumble that spoke of a burden shared. "He's stubborn, that one. Especially when it comes to protecting you “

"But how could he not tell me?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

"He loves you, Y/N," Enzo said, his voice firm. "More than anything, I swear. I've never seen him care about anyone the way he cares about you. I knew what he did was unforgivable , but his feelings for you… they're real."

A sob escaped my lips, tears blurring my vision. The image of Mattheo, his usual arrogance replaced by vulnerability, echoed in my mind.

"you deserves to know," Enzo said, his gaze unwavering. "Even if you can't forgive him, even if you hate him… you deserve to know the truth."

Tears streamed down my face, a mixture of grief and confusion.

"He'll do anything for you, you know," Enzo continued. "Hiding this… it's killing him. More than the illness itself."

Another sob escaped my lips. The anger, the carefully constructed walls of indifference – it all seemed so petty now, dwarfed by the weight of his illness. All this time, I'd been punishing him, punishing myself, while he…

Panic clawed at my throat. "How bad is it? How long…?" My voice wouldn't form the question.

Enzo shook his head, a grim expression on his face. "I don't know all the details, Y/N. He wouldn't tell me much. But he's getting worse, and by the way there's no cure."

The weight of the revelation pressed down on me. The silent war we waged, the stolen glances filled with unspoken emotions – it all seemed so meaningless now. All I wanted to do was see him, to hold him, to tell him… what?

Looking at Enzo, tears streaming down my face, I whispered, " Where is he?"

Enzo hesitated, then pointed towards the forest . "He's usually there, you know where , trying to clear his head."

"Thank you, Enzo," I croaked, my voice thick with emotion. "For telling me."

Enzo nodded, a hint of a sad smile gracing his lips. "Just… don't let pride get in the way, alright? Talk to him. Figure things out he needs you now more than ever. ." He squeezed my shoulder before turning and leaving me alone with the weight of this revelation.

Enzo's words echoed in my head, each syllable a hammer blow against my chest. Disease. Limited time. The anger, the carefully constructed walls of resentment, all crumbled under the weight of this revelation. Tears blurred my visionI raced through the castle corridors, legs burning, a primal urge driving me forward.

I didn't care about the stares, the confused whispers that followed. I only cared about getting to him , My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, each beat punctuated by a sob that tore through me.

The familiar path to the Forbidden Forest became a blur. Thorns ripped at my robes, branches snagged at my hair, but I didn't feel them. All I felt was a desperate need to reach him, to hold him.

A sharp sting on my knee brought me back to the present. I looked down to see a crimson stain blooming on my robes, a tear in the fabric revealing a scraped knee. But the pain was a mere whisper compared to the agony twisting in my gut.

The memory of his secret place, fueled my desperate run. It was a sanctuary he'd revealed only to me, Now, it was my beacon, the only place I could imagine him seeking solace in his time of despair.

Bursting through the familiar curtain of trees, I skidded to a halt, chest heaving, tears streaming down my face. My vision swam, but I could just make out the clearing, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun.

Reaching the clearing, I pushed aside the concealing ivy with trembling hands. The familiar wooden door stood before me, mockingly still. I flung it open, ignoring the groan of rusted hinges.

Pushing the pain aside, I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the blood seeping through my torn robes. The hidden entrance, disguised by a tangle of ivy, materialized before my tear-filled eyes.

With trembling hands, I cleared the vines, pushing through the narrow opening. The familiar scent of earth and damp stone greeted me, a small comfort in the storm raging inside.

Inside the dimly lit chamber, my breath caught in my throat, with my ragged sobs as I stumbled towards the bed. Mattheo peacefully sleeping on , his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

"Mattheo!" I shrieked, the name a desperate plea that tore through the silence. "Mattheo, wake up!"

He stirred at the sound, his brow furrowing in confusion. His eyes fluttered open, blinking away the remnants of sleep. his eyes widening in shock before softening at the sight of my tear-streaked face,the raw panic radiating from my very being.

"Y/N?" he rasped, his voice weak. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Before he could finish his question, I was on him, collapsing onto the bed in a heap of sobs and frantic whispers

His arms wrapped around me. held me close, his voice a soothing murmur against my ear. " it's okay, love," he whispered, his voice thick with concern. "What happened? Are you hurt? Tell me what's wrong, baby did someone…" he trailed off, his voice hardening with a possessive anger."

The sound of those endearment words, so unexpected after weeks of cold silence, sent a fresh wave of tears cascading down my cheeks.

"Don't cry, love," he murmured, his voice thick with concern. "Tell me what's wrong. Did someone hurt you? Did someone say something?"

His gaze dropped to the injury, "Oh Merlin," he breathed, his voice laced with self-reproach. "How did you… why did you come here like this?"

My voice, when it finally came, was a choked sob. Words tumbled out in a rush, a jumbled mess of emotions. "Enzo… he told me… you're sick… I… I thought…"

Mattheo's brow furrowed further. He reached out, his touch tentative on my arm. "Slow down, love," he murmured. "What did Enzo tell you?"

I took a shaky breath, wiping at the tears blurring my vision. "That you… that you had a dangerous illness… that you didn't have long."

A bewildered frown creased his forehead. illness? What illness ? “

"Don't lie to me, Mattheo," I pleaded, tears welling up again. "He said you were… you were dying."

"Enzo that fucker ," he muttered, shaking his head . "He must have been trying to get us to talk." He let out a dry, humorless laugh, the sound sending a fresh wave of pain through me. "He always did have a dramatic flair."

My entire body tensed. Was he lying? My gaze darted across his face, searching for any sign of truth.

"But Enzo wouldn't lie about something like that," I protested, my voice shaky. "He was so worried. He said you loved me, that I deserved to know."

His arms tightened around me "Well, Enzo got one thing right then,"

"So there's no illness?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mattheo cupped my face in his hand, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. "No illness, love. Just a heartbroken fool who did something incredibly stupid." His gaze softened, searching mine. "You believed him?"

Shame burned in my throat. "I… I was scared,"

Mattheo's expression softened. "Scared about me?" he asked gently, his thumb brushing against my cheek in a soothing gesture.

I nodded, unable to meet his gaze as tears threatened to spill over once more.

“you don't have to be scared anymore. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."A wave of relief washed over me as I melted into his embrace, feeling the weight of my fears slowly lift from my shoulders. In his arms

his playful smile fading, replaced by a sharp concern that etched lines on his face his gaze flicked down to my knee

"Oh Merlin," he muttered, kneeling down to examine the wound. A crimson stain was blossoming on my knee .

"It looks worse than it is, probably," I mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant. But the wince I couldn't quite suppress betrayed me.. He knelt beside me, his touch sending a familiar spark through my body despite the circumstances.

"You shouldn't have run like that," he said gently, his voice laced with a hint of disapproval. "Look at you, all bruised and bleeding."

My cheeks burned, not just from the sting of the wounds, but from the unexpected tenderness in his voice. "I… I just needed to see you," I mumbled, looking away.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Well, you certainly made an entrance," he said, a hint of amusement returning to his eyes. But his smile faltered as he focused on my wounds .

"Here, let me get you cleaned up," he said, his voice firm.

He rummaged through the surprisingly well-stocked medical kit hidden in the corner, pulling out vials of glistening potions and bandages. The air filled with the pungent scent of dittany as he carefully cleaned my wounds, his touch surprisingly gentle.

Each swipe of the cloth sent a jolt through me, a confusing mix of pain and a strange kind of pleasure. Shame battled with a newfound hope as I met his gaze. The anger and hurt that had clouded his eyes for weeks were gone, replaced by a warmth that sent a flutter to my stomach.

"There," he said finally, tying the last bandage with a practiced ease. "That should hold for now."

As he pulled back, our eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, the air crackled with unspoken words. The silence between us, once heavy with tension, thrummed with a new energy.

"I'm so sorry for barging in like that," I mumbled, looking away.

"Hey," he said, his voice firm but kind. " You scared the daylights out of me, but I'm glad you're here."

"Do__Do you still care about me?" I blurted out, the question tumbling out before I could stop it. Tears welled up again, threatening to spill over.

Mattheo's eyes widened for a moment, then a flicker of something warm crossed them.

"Like... are you kidding me?" he said, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "Of course I do."

My heart hammered in my chest. "But I thought..." I trailed off, unsure how to voice the tangled mess of emotions that had been churning inside me.

"You thought I moved on?" he finished, his voice gentle.

I nodded, ashamed of the doubt that had festered for so long.

"I was giving you space," he explained, "the space you said you needed. But believe me, it was killing me."

"Merlin's beard, Y/N. Every time some bloke even glanced your way, I felt like I might hex the lot of them."

My cheeks burned. As I laughed at what he said

his gaze lingering on my lips. "I swear I didn't tell anyone about what you told me that night," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "I had nothing to do with the play. ,I didn't know they were going to do that I only didn't want you to go because it was connected to the dare and I thought if we just stayed away, it would all blow over."

"I know," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Charlie told me."

his messy hair softened by the dim light, his jaw shadowed with a hint of stubble, but his gaze held that same familiar warmth that had always sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

He looked so good, so heartbreakingly handsome, a possessiveness rising in my chest. He was mine

I couldn't hold back any longer. With a soft whimper, I closed the gap between us, my lips meeting his in a kiss that was both desperate and tender.

His lips were warm and soft, molding perfectly to mine.The taste of him – a mixture of mint and something uniquely Mattheo – flooded my senses, sending a jolt through my body.

Mattheo responded instantly, pulling me closer until I was practically settling me on his lap , melting into him . His hands slid down my back.

He held me tightly, as if afraid I might disappear, and the urgency in his kiss mirrored my own. It was a hungry kiss, filled with a raw passion that had been simmering beneath the surface for too long.

We explored each other's mouths with a newfound intensity, the taste of him igniting a fire deep within me. Our tongues danced together, a silent conversation filled with unspoken promises and a desperate need for more.

He pulled back slightly, his breath ragged. His eyes, shimmering with desire, held me captive.My own hands tangled in his hair . "I missed you," he rasped, his voice thick with emotion.

The words echoed my own feelings. God, how I'd missed him.

He kissed me again the kiss deepened, a desperate plea for connection after weeks of longing. My hips instinctively swayed against him, seeking a friction that had been absent for too long. The ache in my core, a dull throb that had plagued me, seemed to lessen with each press of my body against his,It felt like a dam had broken, a release after a drought.

But then I felt it – a firmness pressing against my core, a sensation that sent a jolt through my system. It overwhelmed my senses, momentarily drowning the delicious haze of the kiss. As my body brushed against it again, a guttural moan escaped Mattheo's lips. Reality slammed back, and I tore myself away from the kiss, eyes wide with a sudden realization.

"I'm so sorry," I stammered, the words tumbling out in a jumbled mess. "I didn't realize…" my cheeks a fiery red. "Does it hurt you too?"

"Too?"He tilted his head, a playful smile on his face ."What do you mean, baby? What's hurting you?

"I-I just..." I stammered, my cheeks burning like embers. "I don't know... It's just..." Words failed me completely.

His playful smirk deepened the pit in my stomach. "Yeah?" he prompted, his confusion tinged with amusement.

"That would be…" My voice dropped to a barely audible murmur. "That ache, and it won't just go away, no matter what I try."

He chuckled, the sound warm and comforting. "Oh, my love. That sounds awful." He brushed a fallen strand of hair away from my face, his touch sending a fresh wave of heat through me.

"Tell me, love," he whispered, his voice husky with desire, "where does this ache come from?"

before I could confess, a new sensation stole the air from my lungs. His lips, warm and insistent, found my neck again

"Where was that ache coming from, love?" he repeated, his lips soft against my skin, eliciting a moan of pleasure.

"Tell me," he urged, cupping my breast while peppering kisses all over my neck. "I'm still waiting for you to answer me, my love," his voice dominant, commanding my attention.

"It was... down there," I admitted. "It won't go away, no matter what I try," I continued, feeling exposed.

His lips found a sensitive spot behind my ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. "And what have you tried to do to make it go away?" he murmured, his voice turning dark .

"I... I tried to do what you did to me before, but I couldn't," I whispered, tears welling in my eyes, their origin unclear. He kissed them away, his lips tender against my skin.

"You tried to touch yourself? Tried to recreate what I did to you? And who were you thinking about while doing it, darling?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.

"You... it was you. I also imagined it was you, but it didn't work," I confessed.

"You're going to be the death of me," he murmured, kissing away the last of my tears. Then he continued, his voice low and seductive, "We need to do something about that then , Would you let me kiss it better?"

Unable to tear my gaze from his, I simply nodded, my voice stolen by the intensity in his eyes.

"Words, love,I need to hear your voice "

"Yes, please," I whispered, the words barely escaping my lips.

The kiss that followed was possessive, a searing claim . When he finally pulled away, his eyes burned with a dark intensity.

"Good," he breathed, his voice thick with desire . "Because I'm going to worship every inch of that beautiful body. Every. Inch. Of. You."

With a tenderness that contrasted with the raw desire in his voice, he gently laid me down on the bed. The plush fabric felt cool against my flushed skin as anticipation coiled in the pit of my stomach.

His fingers brushed against my collarbone as he meticulously unfastened each button of my shirt. His gaze never left mine, the intensity in his eyes sending shivers down my spine.

"That Ravenclaw boy, Michael Corner, what was he telling you?"

His question jolted me back to reality. I blinked, momentarily confused, then recalled, "Oh, right, Michael. He was talking about the next Quidditch match. I didn't know you noticed."

A wry smile played on his lips. "Oh, believe me, I did," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Every. Single. Second. Especially when his eyes kept flickering back over here."

His gaze dropped pointedly to the space where my shirt now hung open, and a blush crept up my neck.

"Believe me," he whispered,"my eyes were on you the entire time."

Heat pulsed through me as his kisses trailed down my neck, each one a spark igniting a fire within. I squeezed my eyes shut, a strangled moan caught in my throat. Nervous flutters danced in my stomach, a foreign sensation that both scared and thrilled me.

A gasp ripped through me as Matteo's cool fingers dipped beneath my skirt. My skin, flushed from his heated kisses, sent a jolt of contrasting sensation against his touch. It was a delicious shock, leaving me breathless.

"Hey," he murmured, voice laced with concern as he immediately stopped, his brows furrowing. "Is this okay? Do you want me to…"

He began to retract his hand, but before he could fully pull away, I reached out, my fingers blindly grasping at his . "No," I mumbled, the word barely a whisper. My voice betrayed me, shaky and breathless. Why did this simple touch feel so earth-shattering?

"No," I repeated, a little firmer this time, gathering my courage. "I mean, yes. This is… I want that." The last few words tumbled out in a rush, so quiet I wasn't sure if he even heard them.

I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to meet his gaze. I could almost picture the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips

A blush crept up my neck as his voice rumbled in my ear, a promise laced with concern. "If you feel uncomfortable at any point, love, just say the word. I want this to be good for you." His touch lingered on my bare skin, a burning ember against my suddenly chilled flesh.

The sincerity in his voice calmed the knot of nerves twisting in my stomach. I knew he wouldn't push me further than I was ready. Taking a deep breath, I met his gaze, my own desire reflected back in his warm brown eyes.

"I trust you," I whispered, the words a shaky promise.

A slow smile spread across his face, lighting up his features like the sunrise.

The brush of his fingers against the fabric of my bra sent a jolt through me. He paused, his eyes searching mine once more, a silent question hanging in the air.

This time, my response was a small, barely-there nod. It was a hesitant surrender, an invitation whispered on a breath. A satisfied glint sparked in his eyes before he continued his exploration, his touch sending shivers dancing across my skin.

Matteo's fingers grazed the clasp of my bra. The touch was a spark that ignited a fire within me, a rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. Instinctively, my fingers tangled themselves in his hair . He dipped his head, his lips trailing a warm path down my neck before finding a sensitive spot on my chest. A soft moan escaped my lips as he teased the nipple

My back arched involuntarily, a silent plea for him to continue. I tugged on his hair, not wanting him to stop, not wanting this exquisite feeling to end.

"Does that feel good, love?" he murmured against my skin, his voice husky with desire.

"Yes," I breathed, the word barely a whisper lost in the symphony of sensations swirling around me. My eyelids fluttered shut, the world dissolving into a haze of touch and taste, the touch of his skin and the warmth of his breath. Everything else faded away .

Moving to my other nipple giving it the same attention .My fingers instinctively tangled themselves in his hair.

A wave of heat washed over me as Matteo's hand brushed against the hem of my skirt soft sigh escaped his lips as his gaze drifted to my soaked panties .

“I’ve wanted this for such a long time, you have no idea,” he murmured, sucking on the skin of my inner thighs as my hands fisted the bedsheets.

“Please,” I begged, feeling no embarrassment about how desperate I sounded. As soon as he began to suck on my clit, all my worries began to vanish. Profane words spilled from my mouth as Matteo took his sweet time with me.

"Merlin, oh, I—" It seemed as if I couldn’t control my mouth any longer; my instincts took over. I knew that I was ready; I wanted him, all of him.

“Relax, baby, I’ve got you,” his eyes were pitch black by now pupils were dilated, a dark reflection of the desire .

A loving smile playing on his lips as he slowly inserted a finger into me. It still felt strange to me, a sensation I hadn't quite grown accustomed to yet. I was tight around his fingers, but my moans urged him on. Adding another finger, he alternated between sucking, licking, then repeating, drawing me closer to my release,a mind-blowing orgasm that I’d never forget.

My stomach clenched, a tight knot forming as a foreign heat bloomed in my core. Blood roared in my ears, drowning out everything except his voice and the frantic pounding of my heart. My head arched back against the pillow, muscles involuntarily tightening around his fingers.

" good girl , Come for me, love,"

A guttural moan escaped my lips as pleasure surged through me, a wave cresting and crashing in a series of shivers. "Mattheo," I breathed, his name a desperate prayer repeated again and again.

"That’s fucking right, love ." he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Say my name,no one else says my name quite like you do. It's a sound I desperately missed."

His words fueled the fire within me, and I surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure, clinging to him as the wave crested and receded. Exhausted but exhilarated, I opened my eyes to find his gaze locked on mine.

A slow smile tugged at his lips as he brushed a kiss across my flushed cheek. The touch ignited a spark within me, and I reached out, my fingers curling around his hand. With a newfound boldness, I drew him closer, our lips meeting in a kiss that spoke volumes.

"I want you Mattheo all of you ," I whispered against his lips, with newfound confidence.

His gaze held mine for a beat, searching for any flicker of hesitation. He saw none, only a reflection of the desire burning brightly in his own eyes.

"Are you absolutely sure, love?" he asked.

"Absolutely sure just be gentle ," I breathed against his lips, the words leaving no room for doubt.

He undressed himself slowly, his eyes never leaving my form. I couldn't help but admire the contours of his body as he revealed each inch of his skin. My fingers tingled with anticipation, and I reached out to trace the lines of his sculpted six-pack, feeling the firmness beneath my touch. His muscles rippled under my fingertips.

My apprehension grew as I looked at his length, my mind swirling with doubts and desires. " will it hurt?" I asked, my voice betraying my fear and curiosity. I couldn't shake the nagging thought of how he would fit inside me.

"I won’t do anything to hurt you. I'll be gentle with you, okay?"he reassured me, his words soothing my nerves.

“Is that gonna fit?”

“I’ll make it fit.” He kissed a trail down the valley between my breasts, his lips igniting a flame against my skin. Each touch sent a surge of heat through me, anticipation building with every passing second.

He ran the tip of his hardness through my wet folds agonizingly slowly, each touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through my body. I could feel myself throbbing with need as he coated himself with my slickness, the sensation almost overwhelming. Gasping for breath, I reached out for his free hand holding it , needing the connection to ground me amidst the whirlwind of sensation.

“Breathe for me, baby,” Matteo murmured, his voice laced with tenderness and desire. "Keep your eyes on me. Let me see those pretty eyes."

A sharp hiss escaped my lips as he slowly began to push into me, each inch stretching my muscles as they accommodated his girth. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, a combination of pleasure and slight discomfort mingling together. , his lips pressing tender kisses against my cheeks wiped away the tears .

As he started to roll his hips, a slow and steady rhythm, the initial discomfort gave way to a rush of pleasure that flooded my senses. Each movement sent waves of sensation coursing through me, building the intensity of our connection with every thrust.

It didn't take me long to get used to the new sensation; my cries turned into moans, loud moans, my nails clawed at his back as he picked up his speed. "You're doing so well my love '." He kept on praising me as I clenched around his length.

“Good girl," . His thumb continued to circle my pulsing clit, sending electric shocks of pleasure through me. Mattheo buried his head in my neck, inhaling my scent as he listened to the rhythm of our bodies moving together. "God, you feel so good, like a fucking dream. I'll never get enough of you," he whispered against my skin, his words sending shivers down my spine.

As I looked down, the sight of our bodies connected together made me moan even louder. I couldn't help but notice the drips of blood on his dick as he moved, a stark reminder of our primal connection.

"I love you, Mattheo. I'm sorry it took me so long to say it, but I do love you more than life itself," I breathed out between heavy moans, my confession hanging in the air like a promise. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pulled him closer, desperate for more of him.

"Fucking hell, love, are you trying to kill me?" he sucked on my neck, pushing me over the edge for the second time that evening. The feeling exploded in my belly, my moans urging him closer to his own release. Still, I continued to clench around him, my body writhing with pleasure as he rode me through the bliss. His cock twitched inside of me, warmth spreading through me as he released himself inside of me.

I was on birth control pills my mother had made me take them since I turned eighteen, but in that moment, nothing else mattered but the overwhelming sensation of love and desire coursing through my veins.

“ Holy shit,Never thought I could love someone this much. What are you doing to me ?“

"Not even Astoria Greengrass?" I teased, unable to resist bringing that up .

"Don’t you dare bring another woman’s name up while my dick is still inside you," he retorted, his tone playful yet possessive.

I chuckled, cupping his face to kiss him passionately. His response was equally fervent, but a moan escaped my lips as I felt him getting out off me .

Surveying the aftermath, I couldn't help but feel a mix of pleasure and soreness. "I think I've lost my ability to walk," I joked.

"yeah ?" he teased back, laying down beside me. His fingers gently traced patterns in my hair as he leaned in to kiss my forehead with tenderness.

"I will never, ever do anything to hurt you again," he vowed softly.

Smiling softly, I whispered, "I know," before meeting his lips in another kiss.

He broke the kiss with a chuckle" I owes Enzo big time, huh? Best brother of the year?"

I laughed, feeling the exhaustion starting to set in.

"still ,but he'll pay for frightening you like that. Now, how about I take care of you first ?" I nodded, too tired to speak.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅

BONUS SCENE.

We re-entered the castle, his hand never leaving mine. It wasn't a casual hold, but a tight clasp, his fingers weaving between mine like a declaration

Suddenly, Matteo stopped short, his eyes widening in surprise. Following his gaze, I spotted a familiar tall figure with kind eyes and a warm smile – Uncle Ben! My jaw dropped. What was he doing here?

“Look who it is! Isn't that my favorite niece?"

"Uncle Ben? What are you doing here?"

"Ah," he chuckled, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "Professor Flitwick requested a little assistance with a... well, let's just say a certain magical artifact has gotten a bit out of sorts. Seems my expertise is needed to tame the beast, Thought I'd surprise you , and pop in to see how things are going at Hogwarts"

My jaw nearly hit the floor,how things are going at Hogwarts ? Well uncle…

“ this young man was keeping my company , Enzo, wasn't it?", his voice laced with amusement as he gestured towards Enzo.

"The one and only," Enzo confirmed with a wide grin, throwing in another wink for good measure.

My stomach lurched as Uncle Ben's gaze darted down to our hands, still subtly intertwined. The air crackled with sudden tension , his eyes darted from me to Mattheo, lingering a beat too long on the hand that still rested possessively on mine.

"Riddle Jr., isn't he?" he boomed, his jovial demeanor replaced with a mixture of surprise and something akin to panic.

My mind raced, desperately searching for an explanation. "Uncle Ben, it's —" I began, only to be cut off by his frantic question.

" you're not pregnant, right?" he blurted, his voice dropping to a panicked whisper.

My jaw dropped. Enzo choked on a laugh, shooting a helpless glance towards Mattheo, who seemed to be suppressing a smirk.

“you're holding hands! "

Enzo clapped Uncle Ben on the shoulder, his voice booming with forced cheer. "Come on, Ben! Let's not jump to conclusions. They're just kids, figuring things out."

My uncle's expression remained skeptical. He shifted his gaze to Matteo, a guarded look replacing the initial shock. " Riddle Jr. here," he began, his voice tight. "What exactly are your intentions towards y/n ?"

Matteo met Uncle Ben's gaze head-on, his posture unwavering. "Sir," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I deeply regret the way things ended between y/n and me. I know I hurt her, and for that, I'll never forgive myself. However, I care for her a great deal, and I would never do anything to intentionally cause her pain again." His eyes flickered to me briefly, a flicker of something warm passing between us. "All I want is a chance to prove myself worthy of her trust."

"Uncle Ben, I trust Mattheo. We'll take things slow, and I promise to be careful."

"Wow, you two look positively radiant. Blindingly so, actually. Sunglasses anyone?”enzo said wrapping his hands around my uncle shoulders.

Our synchronized eye rolls at his comment were enough to power the entire castle for a week. He held his hands up defensively, a playful grin plastered across his face while murmuring, "I'm still your brother, don't kill me," to Mattheo.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅

Tag list :

@avee-wavee @lovelyygirl8 @lovelyypythoness @timmychalametsstuff

#slytherin boys x you #slytherin boys #mattheo smut #slytherin boys x reader #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagines #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle angst #smut #slytherin #lorenzo berkshire imagine #fluff imagines #mattheoriddle

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headspace-hotel · 2 years

Text

The day before yesterday I got to try a ripe pawpaw for the first time.

Someone else was supposed to come in at the center, but I was in the mood to be alone, so I fucked off into the woods at the earliest available opportunity, looking to collect more hickory nuts.

I hiked about two miles down the trail, seeking to find a little-used path as far from the center as I could reasonably make it. I was five or ten minutes down a fork in the path heading down a valley when I unexpectedly smelled something familiar: the scent of ripe pawpaws. I only knew that scent from having come upon a rotten one several days back on the trail.

I had seen pawpaw trees on the way up, but I looked around and saw nothing. I indulged a beast-like impulse: I sniffed. I turned until I was facing the direction of the scent and moved towards it. And I saw, about 50 feet away down the hillside below...a pawpaw grove

Some interesting facts about pawpaws:

The pawpaw is the largest fruit native to North America, known for its "tropical" flavor. Despite being reputed to be delicious, it is not found in grocery stores due to the fruits being far too delicate to ship without spoiling. A few people farm them, but otherwise the only way to get one is to come upon one growing wild, which is rare, because the opossums love them.

Pawpaw trees are hard to grow and take 10-15 years to produce fruit, but you can see wild ones in mature and well managed woods of Kentucky. They are small, barely trees, only about 15-20 feet tall, with trunks only a bit bigger around than a circle you can make with your index finger and thumb. They almost always grow in clonal colonies, groups of many trees that are all clones of each other due to being propagated from the roots of existing trees. They are also strictly understory trees, growing in the shade of much larger trees.

Now, an interesting fact about Eastern Kentucky: At the fringe of Appalachia, and even into parts of the Outer Bluegrass, the terrain frequently turns into very steep rolling hills.

It's hard to notice if you are in more cultivated areas that have been leveled out more, but in wilder parts you can seldom just casually walk in a straight line through the woods. Unless you are following the contour of the hills, you are either sliding and gripping saplings to slow your descent or you are climbing on all fours.

Such was the hill below me, descending at roughly a fifty-degree angle into the pawpaw grove.

I was going to get me some fucking pawpaws.

I climb down the hill by a combination of scooting, sliding, and scrabbling. After a few minutes of struggle I am standing in the pawpaw grove, alone, scanning the branches with my eyes.

The ground is littered everywhere with pawpaws, some very rotten. I see only two or three fruits remaining in the trees, and I walk around giving each tree a good shake, thinking to myself about how this is certainly an experience shared by millions of years' worth of primate ancestors before me.

After nearly ten minutes of (literally) fruitless tree-shaking, I start to eye the fallen pawpaws on the ground around me.

Some of them are perfectly fine-looking. The skin hasn't even been broken into. I pick one up.

It is very soft, but not squishy like something rotten. It is about as long as my index finger (my hands are small) and oblong. Its smooth skin is pale green and spotted with brown like a very ripe banana. I tear the skin back and give the creamy orange insides a test lick.

Friends.

It was transcendent.

Imagine the most perfect ripe mango, but with a flavor that is more banana-like, mellow and creamy and mild instead of tangy. The texture is perfectly smooth and soft unlike any other fruit. You can lick it and it will just melt in your mouth.

I am autistic and a very picky eater due to the difficult textures of many foods, and this fruit has the perfect texture. Mangos are already one of my favorite foods and this is somehow even better. I remember, deliriously, that farmers are seeking to improve pawpaws for possible commercial production, and it seems like the height of foolishness there in the pawpaw grove. There is no possible way wild pawpaws could be improved. All of creation is tainted by the Fall of Man, except for fucking pawpaws, because they are beyond the earthly tier of fruits.

I lick it like a dog going crazy on a Kong full of peanut butter until it falls apart in my hands and start scanning the ground for another.

They are all perfectly ripe and mostly untouched by bugs or creatures. I start just squishing them in my hands and licking the creamy insides. I am just planting my face in these fruits like some kind of animal. My face and hands are covered in pawpaw squish.

I go through like ten of them before returning to my senses. I've been thoughtlessly wiping my hands on my pants, and they are now more soiled than the clothes of the messiest toddler. I feel primal and connected to my ancestors. I have truly earned my Primate Card.

My mom said in the car that I smelled very strongly of something (pawpaws) so it's safe to say that literally every person I passed on the way back down the trail got a good whiff too, and likely connected it to the Pawpaw Squish that was basically all over me.

Regrets: None

#nature #fruits #pawpaw

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nothomegal · 4 months

Note

ITS CHRISTMAS EVE (or at least where I live bc timezones) and I would like to gove Pyramid Head smoochies under mistletoe pls 😌

Aww I was having this idea too! And since it's Christmas allow me to bless you with a drawing!...

...And a lilttle one-shot!

"Mistletoe"

(Pyramid Head x GN Reader)

Warning: suggestive implications by the end, but mostly fluff!

Word Count: 1k

Christmas was always a funny holiday for (Y/N). Either because they never truly felt connected to it or because they haven't felt the 'magic of Christmas' since childhood. Don't get me wrong, they would still put some decorations when they could, but ever since they came to Silent Hill such tradition was lost.

Not like they mind it too much though, they already have the absolute best gift and company they could ever ask for! Just tell me, who in their right mind would be upset about having a nearly 8ft tall demi-god creature as your forever partner? You have to be chronically insane to turn down such blessing!

And speaking of the creature, (Y/N)'s daydream was interrupted when a large hand curled around their arm and stopped them. They shoot a curious glance to their lover, who was already looking at whatever got his attention.

Right above them, placed on the old metallic door frame with, what they suppose is duct tape, were hangign a bunch of oddly shaped pieces of paper. Some pieces where green, others painted green, and all of them where kept together with a piece of damaged red cloth that was tied as a bow.

(Y/N) stares at that weird construction with furrowed brows, really trying to grasp what the hell they're looking at. Pyra was still as well, but his head tilted towards his human as he curiously observes their reaction. Seems like they too have no clue what is this-.

However, (Y/N) manages to make out the shape of it and instantly burst out laughing.

—"No way! No way someone actually made one!"— you say between laughs.

The beast simply observes them, letting out a low wondering rumble. Is that another pointless joke humans have? (Y/N) is laughing hard so it must be something very funny or very stupid.

After the laughter had ceased, (Y/N) takes a look at their monster and suddenly remember what he wanted in the first place. Oh, right. They were supposed to explain what is that.

—"Okay, okay."— you say between giggles as you point at the object. —"That thing over there is supposed to be a mistletoe. Remember when I told you about Christmas and how people decorate that one fuzzy tree? Well, this thing is also kinda a Christmas tradition. People hang it somewhere high and when two step or pass underneath it, they have to kiss."—

While (Y/N) explains, Pyra listens to them carefully. But the second they mention the kiss part, the air between them shifts and becomes... Odd. And Pyra himself still, way too still.

(Y/N) of course feels the change, and is quick to start clarifying.

—"But of course, it's optional. It's not like you're forced to kiss anyone. If anything, I never did! So I suppose this will remain as a silly tradition some-"—

Their speech is replaced by a tiny gasp when the monster suddenly grabs their jaw, gently lifting and moving their gaze where he needed. Their eyes narrow slightly when they noticed a tongue peek out from his helmet and slowly, almost shily, wiggle towards their face.

—"Aww. What a polite guy."— you chuckle as a little blush creeps on your cheeks. —"Well of course I'll give you a kiss."—

Ever since they introduced this new method of showing affection, it wasn't rare to witness Pyra ask for a 'kiss' once or twice. It's kinda funny to see how shy he gets, always taking it slow and giving them enough time to stop or pull away. Do they do that? Nuh-uh! Do they think it feels gross? Weird, yes. But (Y/N) is deranged so it's fine.

The pink muscle soon presses against their lips, and they respond by giving it a kiss while holding it in place gently, totally unbothered by its wet and slippery texture. They could feel Pyra practically melt into the gesture, he does it every time. It's small, but is the closest they can get to an actual kiss, and the intimacy and specialness of it seems to get the beast to his very core.

After some second, when (Y/N) attempts to lean back, a pair of big arms gets a hold around them, cementing them in place completely and pulling them closer to the monster. The said beast lets out a low menacing growl as his tongue licks their cheek and part of the jaw. The message was clear...

M̵̞͔̥̏̌̊o̷͕͒̓͑ͅŗ̷̭̝̓̾e̵̠̤͓̅̒̋.

He wanted more.

Despite the apparentaly hostile growls, (Y/N) showed no intimidation and simply chuckled as they roll their eyes.

—"Someone is feeling frisky, huh?"—

Another, and a bit louder, growl resonated from inside the beast's helmet. His grip around them tightening and the tongue sliding along their lips, almost begging for them to kiss it again.

—"Calm down tiger. We both know if we continue you'll get too carried on."— you coo, sliding one of your hands along one side of his helmet.

He groans with certain displeasure, but his grip soon losens as he slightly tilts his head into their touch, yet he doesn't let go neither.

—"If you're really feeling like doing it then let's go somewhere else. You don't want anyone to see me naked, don't you?"—

This time their answer is no longuer a growl or a sound, but the same pair of big hands lighting their form up and swinging over a broad shoulder.

Before starting to walk however, the monster reaches up and snatches the little paper mistletoe. (Y/N) of course notices that and can't hold back the little laugh.

—"Well well, see you really liked this particular tradition."—

They get no response as the monster resumes his walking. But the small squeeze on one of their thighs was enough proof to know that they got it right and it won't be the last time the see the little item.

After this little interaction, and probably after what's about to come, (Y/N) doubts to ever be able to feel that magic of Christmas again.

However, they realize that they still experienced something new. The magic of the mistletoe.

Is that an actual thing? Who knows.

But it worked on Pyra so it must be a thing, right?

It worked well after all.

...Too well.

#nothomegal ask reply #nothomegal art #nothomegal fic #nothomegal oneshot #pyramid head #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head x y/n #gn y/n #gn reader #happy holidays y'all ❤️#slasher fluff

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 3 months

Text

The Silver Dragon (1)

The Bronze Bitch's Daughter

Prince Daemon Targaryen has grown tired of his Lady wife, the “Bronze Bitch” Rhea Royce. But he is not so easily rid of her. She survives not only his brutal attack, but his cruel violation of her. Though she remains broken and weak, she endures just long enough to deliver a child: a girl of silver hair and steely eyes.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC (Daemon and Rhea's daughter)

Warnings: Heavily implied rape

Author's Note: Here's the first chapter of my rework of The Silver Dragon! I'm keeping the old versions up, but they will be labeled "archived."

*Important Note* While he's not the villain of the show or book, Daemon is the villain of this story. We are seeing him through the perspectives of people he's hurt in various different ways. As such, he is not as morally gray as you may be used to. If you think this will upset you, don't read. Thank you!

Series Masterlist - Next Chapter

Rhea Royce lay prone on the earth ground of her beloved Vale. But she could feel neither the cold of the stone nor the dampness of the grass and stone as it seeped through her hunting leathers and onto her skin. As the heat of her body met with the chill in the ground, the runes of protection etched into her pauldrons became fogged over – rendered unreadable.

She knew she should hurt. The pain should be unbearable. Yorwyck was a mighty beast, like the Bronze King he was named for. The whole weight of the horse had come down upon her, so there was no doubt he caused her great damage in his fall. She had heard the sharp cracking of her own bones. Yet she felt none of it.

All she could feel was fear.

The cloaked man waited until her steed was out of sight. Rhea was well and truly alone, with only the distant ramparts of Runestone peering from between the hills as witness to whatever would come next.

He approached her slowly, casually, as if he couldn’t hear her desperate whimpers. She knew he just didn’t care. He ran his violet eyes along her body as he approached her head. It was not a gaze of lust. He looked on her with the same disdainful curiosity as one examining a woodland rodent crushed by a cart.

As he stood directly over her, he turned his eyes from her face – he had always avoided looking at the face he found so displeasing. Instead, he turned to her outstretched arm. He took another step, raising his foot above Rhea’s lower arm. The ghost of a wicked smile danced in the corner of his mouth, and he stepped down.

Nothing.

He raised and pressed his foot down again several more times. Not to be sure, but to emphasize to his victim that she was utterly helpless – precisely as he wanted her. Rhea knew the horrors his men had inflicted on the criminals of King’s Landing and the followers of the Crab Feeder. She knew the cruelty he was capable of and of his unparalleled creativity. He had hated her for years. In all that time, he must have imagined countless ways to torture her.

Rhea braced herself for what would come next. At least she would not feel the pain.

But his steps retreated.

All the fear in Rhea’s heart evaporated, swiftly replaced by rage. After these long nine years, this was all he had for her? For nine years, he traveled the whole of the Seven Kingdoms and beyond, slandering her and her family in the courts, then further insulting her with his brazen whoring. She had lost count of how often he had called her “Bronze Bitch” and accused her of ruining his life. She had been anticipating a reckoning from him.

But this?

This was an insult she could not stand.

Rhea knew she would be signing her soul over to the Stranger, but she would not let Daemon Targaryen have the final say.

“I knew you couldn’t finish,” she spat at her retreating husband.

He turned back, looking at her face for the first time. Rage twisted his face, but his eyes were wide with shock. He had not expected that. But she was, after all, his Bronze Bitch.

What he said next had Rhea’s blood running cold as she thanked all the Seven that she would not feel what was to come. “My dear, lady wife,” he said, breath heaving and voice dripping with hateful venom, “perhaps it is time we consummate our union.”

The Lady of Runestone was dying, nine months on from her “accident.”

The people of the Vale were told that it was a miracle from the Seven themselves that she had survived such a devastating fall from her horse. Even more miraculous still, her husband had swooped in on dragonback to rescue her before she succumbed. He had even used his mount, Caraxes ‘the Blood Wyrm,’ to find and dispatch the offending horse. A true Targaryen prince, rescuing his bronze damsel. It was no wonder when her cousin and heir, Gerold, announced to the court that she was with child. They cared little that their Lady’s rescuer had swept flown out of the Vale as swiftly as he had arrived.

Only her cousin, her Maester, and her ladies-in-waiting knew the truth. Maester Kerith had spent countless hours binding the broken bones that could be saved, and those he could not, he promptly removed. When Lady Rhea next sat the Bronze Throne, she made sure her ladies dressed her in her riding leathers rather than a gown that would hide her injuries. She wanted her court to see what she had survived, even if they could not know the truth.

When it became clear that the consequences of what her husband had done extended beyond mere injuries, Maester Kerith offered her moon tea, but she refused. With her health still declining and her body struggling to overcome the trauma she had faced, she knew she would not survive long. But again, she refused to let Daemon have the final word in their hellish marriage. He had insulted her, paralyzed her, and raped her, but she would not let him forget her.

She would leave him with an Heir of Bronze.

The babe was born as the sun rose, though the day remained dark beneath the clouds that so often surrounded Runestone.

Rhea wept for the first time, having felt no pain throughout the birth, when she saw that her daughter had the silver-white hair of her father. She had prayed for months that her child would look just like her, to be a constant reminder of his Bronze Bitch. But the babe was just another silver Targaryen. Her final revenge had failed.

Gerold sat at her side, cradling the girl in his arms, as her mother could not. Then, as the babe began to cry, he held her out so Rhea could see her.

“Cousin, look at her eyes,” he whispered, all too aware of the grim looks on the Maester and Septas’ faces.

Rhea turned her head, lifting her neck as much as her weakening body would allow to try and glimpse her child through her tears. She looked past the white hair at the small but wide eyes that beheld her.

The slate grey eyes of Runestone, the Bronze Kings, and the First Men. Royce eyes.

Rhea smiled. Perhaps her revenge would not be as sharp as she would like, but so long as her daughter remained, Daemon would never forget her. He would always remember that he could not break her.

The Lady of Runestone’s breaths came slower, and though the Septas flurried around her, she paid them no mind. She had known all these months that she would not live to see the look on Daemon’s face when he first met his heir. She knew these were her last moments. But she did not want to spend them afraid. She wanted to spend them with her daughter.

Fitting, she thought, that Daemon’s heir should be a girl. His young niece had usurped his claim to the Iron Throne, and now his claim to Runestone was usurped by his own daughter.

And what a beautiful daughter she was. Rhea’s vision began to blur around the edges, and the voices of the others in the room faded as she beheld the babe. Her eyes were bright, even as she cried softly, and the silver-white of her gently curling hair seemed to bring out a metallic shine in her grey eyes. They complimented each other, as her parents never had.

This girl was not bronze.

“Arianwyn,” Rhea whispered, naming her child as the life, at last, left her broken body. Lady of silver.

It was not Prince Daemon who came to Runestone to receive the child on behalf of the Royal family, but the young Queen Alicent Hightower. She came with the unwelcome news that the child’s father had already remarried. Less than a month after he became a widower. He had departed with his new wife, Laena Velaryon, to Pentos without leaving instruction on the care of his daughter – or even acknowledging her birth.

Alicent, despite her reputation as a fierce supporter of her husband’s family, was more than empathetic to the child’s plight. It seemed to Ser Gerold that the young Queen held a similar opinion to his own regarding Daemon Targaryen. She commiserated with him on the pain the prince had caused his family, especially Rhea and her daughter. It seemed that As long as the prince had vexed the Royce family, he had been equally maddening to his brother.

But what was most shocking to Gerold and the court at Runestone was the offer the Queen brought: to bring the child to King’s Landing and raise her there. Despite her father’s indifference, the child was a Targaryen. It was her right to live amongst her people, to learn the traditions of Old Valyria.

And at the Red Keep, Arianwyn would not be alone. The Queen had three children, each young enough to be peers to their newest Targaryen cousin, and more were anticipated from both Alicent and the recently wed Princess Rhaenyra.

The King had already given his approval, both to the fostering of his niece at the Red Keep and of Gerold serving as regent of Runestone until the girl had come of age. Indeed, all the arrangements were already made. The Queen had even brought a small contingent of attendants for the child, from nursemaids to Dragonkeepers, who carried a great, steaming urn containing a silver dragon egg – supposedly chosen by the Queen’s infant son – to be placed in Arianwyn’s cradle.

Gerold had only one caveat before he agreed to the King’s plan: that Arianwyn would not venture to the capital alone. A handful of attendants from Runestone delegates would be sent with her to educate her on the history and traditions of House Royce. So that even surrounded by Targaryens, she would not forget why her eyes were grey.

Queen Alicent, herself clothed in Hightower green, happily agreed.

After a long journey from the Vale, Lady Arianwyn Targaryen arrived at Red Keep, cradled in the arms of her aunt, Queen Alicent Hightower. As her attendants, including one of her late mother’s most trusted Lady’s Maids, continued on to prepare her rooms, the newest Targaryen was brought into the Great Hall.

A hush fell over the gathered courtiers when the doors to the throne room opened, and they beheld the silver-haired babe. But the chatter that so often filled the capital quickly resumed when they saw the blanket she was swaddled in. A burnished bronze velvet, carefully embroidered with the same ancient Runes that graced the ancestral armor of House Royce.

It was a slight on the Royal House that, in another court, would have undoubtedly caused a scandal. But in this court, where the Queen herself so brazenly wore the colors of her own house rather than her husband’s, it was immediately relegated to petty gossip. So the Lords and Ladies quickly resumed their conversations as the Queen approached the Iron Throne.

“My King, may I present your niece, Lady Arianwyn Targaryen,” Alicent said as she bowed before her husband as best she could with a squirming infant in her arms.

King Viserys’ eyes brightened, and he dismissed the Hand from his side. The King, having lost so many of his own children by his first wife, was always cheered when he had the chance to meet a healthy babe.

“Hello, my dear niece,” he cooed, reaching out to hold her, “what a delight you are!” His arms strained slightly at the weight of the plump child, so he pulled her into his chest. She relaxed into his against him, fussing softly as she reached for his long white hair.

Viserys laughed, running his fingers through her own hair. The exact shade of silver-white that graced nearly every member of his family. Though hers held significantly more curls than any Targaryen he had ever known.

“She is indeed a beauty, cousin.” A familiar voice drew the King’s attention. His cousin, Rhaenys, approached the throne. “It is a comfort to see our families flourishing.”

The King smiled and nodded, allowing his cousin permission to approach. She ascended the steps to the Iron Throne and ran the back of her fingers along the round cheek of her new baby cousin. “It is a shame her father is not here to meet her.”

Viserys heart sank. In his joy at meeting Arianwyn, he had momentarily forgotten the circumstances under which she arrived – without her father. Once again, his brother had shamed not only himself, but his family and the Crown itself. At least the child’s hair had put to rest any rumors that Rhea had been unfaithful.

Suddenly, the sight of the babe made his heart ache. “Alicent,” he called to his wife, “take Arianwyn to her rooms. I am sure she is tired from the journey.” He handed his wife the child and slumped back into the throne, readjusting himself to try and remain comfortable. Then, when Alicent was out of earshot, he again turned to Rhaenys.

“What has my brother done now?” He said, running his gloved hand over his face.

Rhaenys grimaced. “I am loathe to speak against him now, as he has so recently taken my daughter to wife,” she sighed. “But I feel confident in saying that none of us can ever say exactly what your brother is doing, much less predict what he may yet do in the future.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Viserys said, “I just pray that poor girl won’t suffer any more than she already has.”

When she arrived, the Queen’s three children were waiting inside the solar of their cousin’s new rooms. Aegon, now four years old, ran from his nursemaid, cackling as he swerved precariously between the servants attempting to arrange the room. Helaena, approaching her second nameday, stayed in her nurse’s arms, hands clasped tightly around her ears as she took in the unfamiliar space. And Aemond, only a few months older than his new cousin, lay peacefully in his maid’s arms as he watched servants haul numerous sparkling bronze trappings into the rooms.

“Come and meet your new cousin, darlings,” Alicent called to Aegon and the nursemaids bearing her other children, “She’s come a long way to be with us.” The Queen sat on a plush chair near the west windows of the room, gently lowering the babe into her lap.

Aegon reluctantly approached, sneering slightly at the child in his mother’s lap. “She doesn’t look like Daemon.”

Alicent sighed. “Nor did you look like your father when you were so young. Indeed, even now, I wager you look more like me. You have the Hightower nose.” She tweaked the tip of his soft nose – the same as hers - to drive her point home.

“I am a Targaryen prince!” Aegon insisted.

“Of course, my boy. How could any of us forget it with this on your head,” she said, ruffling his unruly mop of white hair.

Aegon grunted, looking back down at the baby. He gently reached out to touch her silver hair, both neater and curlier than his own. “What is her name?”

“Arianwyn.” The Queen responded.

“Ari…” Helaena started, her hands finally coming down from her ears. Alicent nodded for the maid to set her down, and the young girl approached her mother and the babe.

The Queen spoke slowly and carefully as she repeated, “Arianwyn.”

Helaena listened intently, then repeated the name several times, struggling with the pronunciation. “Ah-ree-an-win.”

“That’s it! Very good, my sweet,” the Queen said, placing her hand on her daughter’s shoulder, though the young girl winced at the touch.

Aegon continued fiddling with his cousin’s curls, “It’s a weird name.”

“Her cousin Sir Gerold Royce told me it is of the Old Tongue,” the Queen said, motioning for one of the nursemaids to bring her youngest babe closer, “it has some meaning, though I am afraid I forget what it is.”

Releasing Arianwyn’s hair, Aegon made a noise of quickly waning interest and stepped away, eager to resume his perpetual torment of his nurse. Had she not been holding her young niece, Alicent may have chased after him. But for now, she lifted the child babe to face her own.

“Aemond,” she said softly, “meet Arianwyn.”

As he beheld his bronze-wrapped cousin, he smiled, cooing and reaching a squirming fist toward her. A smile appearing across her own face, Arianwyn reached back toward him.

I'll be starting a new taglist for this, so if you'd like to be on it, please reach out to me or comment on this post.

#aemond #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond imagine #prince aemond #aemond x oc #house of the dragon aemond #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd aemond #aemond fic #hotd fanfic #aemond xf!oc #aemond x original female character #aemond x original character #the silver dragon

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magicgalatica · 8 months

Text

My Lioness~

Yandere! Apollo (Record Of Ragnarok) x Amazon Warrior! Female Reader

“You’ll Be Mine, Sunshine.”

——————————————————————————

Apollo had met many woman in his life…. Some of Royalty, Maidens, Worshippers, and Nymph’s. Who all adore and admire him for his beauty and charm. Praising him. Drawn to him like moths to glowing light. To which Apollo rewarded them gracefully, pleased to himself. For these woman before him are always at his feet. Come to his beckoning call. To please him if needed.

That was until he saw……

You.

Unlike of those he seen throughout his existence and him roaming onto the mortal realm. You were different….. very different. Instead of focusing on beauty or fashion compared to most woman within the Roman towns. Y/n had no interest. Her eyes focused on something else. Battling beast and challenges set before her. What caught his ear was that you were well known within the Roman town. Known as: The Lioness. Apollo himself wondered why such a title was given to you. Until he learned why. Due to the strong pride you carried when you fight. Either men or monster. Along with your lions that follow your every path. Wearing a lion helmet, shield in one hand and spear in the other. Eyes holding focus. Apollo wondered how such woman would have very strength. Till his question was quickly answered by one of his worshippers. You were a Amazon. A powerful one at that. Able to throw a man onto his back or take a large boar down with ease. Apollo couldn’t help but be so drawn by a very beautiful powerful Amazon. His worshippers took notice and grew jealous. However he ignored them. Plotting on how he should face you directly to introduce himself. Which it wasn’t long for him to figure out since there’s on spot you enjoy to yourself away from everyone. A soft grassy area. Under a large tree that gave shade. Y/n leaned against it to rest herself by her male lion that laid beside her. Breathing softly. Breeze gently brushing. Inhaling air once more. Enjoying silence that held. Only to last for a second as light beamed near her. Y/n opened her eyes, adjusting before moving her gaze to see a male with long blonde hair and clothing the gave of royalty or rather just godly. Apollo gazed upon Y/n who was gazing at him with her e/c. Apollo grinned at her.

“Hello dear maiden, I am Apollo.” He said in a soft tone and gave her a seductive wink.

Y/n however didn’t seem to budge nor flinch at his wink. Or just wasn’t interested. Mainly just registering what he said to her. To which surprised Apollo, normally adjusted to woman immediately falling for him quickly or praise him. But for you, you didn’t show any signs of quick interest. Just a plain gaze.

“Oh you must be the sun god.”

Even tho her voice held respect, her face remained the same. Y/n stood and faced him.

“My apologies for not realizing it was you.”

Oh how her voice sounded lovely to Apollo’s ears.

“It is alright my dear.”

Y/n stood in front of him. Her eyes locked onto his own. Getting a better view of each other. Or rather Apollo getting a better view. Admiring. Her muscles. Her gaze. Her aura. A few scars here and there but it didn’t bother him much. Like she was tiny drop of sun in front of him. So dazzling. So beautiful. He badly wanted his fingers to trace onto her. To feel her. Hold her close to his own body.

“LADY Y/N!” A voice shouted, disturbing them.

Anger flowed within Apollo of the disturbance. Y/n turn away to the voice that sounded within air. No. You were supposed to be focused on him. ON HIM.

“What is it?” Y/n spoke, focusing on the man.

“Beast… Beast are attacking the village.”

Y/n tensed before turning to Apollo.

“I apologize my lord. I must go.” She says to him, taking her spear and shield. Running down the hill to the village to aid.

Apollo stood, watching her disappearing into the distance. Yet the anger still lingered in his body. Why must these mortals request YOU to defeat these monstrosities when they themselves are cocky enough to fight. Especially since they a disturbed their little greeting to each other. Apollo took a deep breath to relieve his anger. He will just have to try to gain your attention again…. Without disturbance.

It became constant. Him facing you. Greeting you. Often bringing gifts. Praising you. You didn’t mind it. But you did point out he didn’t have to bring gifts and praising her. Yet he insisted. Even if you were stubborn about it.

He adored how stubborn you were about it. Like if you were scolding him but not really. Flustered, yet it was so rare for her to be. Though his flirting doesn’t get through her. Pushing that aside rather quickly.

He loved her.

No.

He was obsessed.

To a point he ignored other woman. His eyes focused on her and her alone. Truly like a moth to a dazzling light. Drawn more and more. Obsession growing deeper into him. Causing his emotions to go berserk when near her. To a point he’ll hold her close if they ever enter Roman towns. Nobody dared to bother them, not wanting to enrage the god. Yet Y/n was… dense about it but did question the sun god of him having her so close to him.

“To make sure no one would dare dirty your purity and beauty my sunshine.”

He was true to his own words.

He wouldn’t allow anyone to do so.

That was until a drunken man tried to. Whistling and yet tried to be handsy. Although that ended with him being thrown onto the ground by Y/n. Knocking the wind out of him. However in Apollo’s eyes….

That wasn’t enough.

Maybe a little Devine punishment would teach him a manner… even if it means having to join underworlds gates. Having to excuse himself away for his personal reasons. His eyes glowing with anger. Following where this drunken man has went. Noticing a stumbling body a few feet in front of him. His anger boiled as the man heard his footsteps. Turning to him. Eyes blinking. Trying to get a better view. Then he sobered up when reality hit him. Seeing the sun god standing before him.

“L-Lord Apollo-“

“Silence.”

The man become silent as Apollo glared at him intently. Causing the man to shiver.

“You dare to put your filthy hands onto her beauty.”

“My lord I’m sorry..”

“Sorry won’t take back the action you attempted.”

Apollo twitched his finger as a bow glowed with his hand.

“My lord please-“

Apollo pulled back the string, his cold gaze focused on the man that quivered before him.

“Pleading won’t save you.”

Y/n noticed a glow within the forest. She took a step forward but froze when a wave uncertainty course through her. Like if it was telling to not enter. Apollo appeared before her. Grinning.

“I apologize my sunshine. I had to talk to him to make sure he apologized for his behavior.”

Y/n however, felt like that wasn’t the truth. She didn’t question him about it. Especially when a part of her didn’t wish to push for it to anger him.

Months passed by as many begin to disappear. Y/n begin to question the people of what may caused this. Some believe animals may have gotten to them or moved away. Which was left unknown of the true happening of the missing. Making Y/n concerned although Apollo suggested to worry much of it. Y/n wasn’t at ease tho. Leave but abandon their items. To which was off in Y/n’s eyes. But for now this isn’t at her concern as much it bothered her.

“Lord Apollo. I believe this may be our last time we might speak.”

Apollo raised a brow.

“Why is that sunshine.”

Y/n gazed at him.

“I’ve been summoned in aid for a battle that will commence.”

Apollo’s eyes narrowed as anger filled him.

“I must rest at my housing before I head off in the morning to join the Spartans for the battle.”

Apollo though not showing it, was enraged. Why must humanity deserve your strength and power. Your beauty. Do you not understand. Their using you. Y/n breathes out. Facing him once again.

“I bid you farewell my lord. For I must rest now. Till we meet again.”

Y/n turned away as Apollo stared at her. Watching her walk away from him.

Agitation ignited in Apollo. Humanity doing this. They didn’t deserve you. And you didn’t deserve to be near them. He had to take you away. No.

He needed to take you away.

Night took the sky for Nyx stepped out. Y/n breathes out as she laid amongst her bed. Easing her body. Adjusting before darkness took her eyes to sleep. Tension in her body easing up. Resting slowly into the bedding.

Outside, a dim light glowed as Apollo stood next to her bedding. Staring down at her with glowing eyes. Seeing her asleep peacefully.

Perfect.

Gently moving the hair away from her face as she slept. Sliding her arms under her body. Making sure with movement, he couldn’t wake her up. Lifting her up. Bodies closed together. Apollo walked outside with her in his arms. When you awaken. You wouldn’t be in the human realm no more for you didn’t belong there. You belonged at his side. You were his sunshine.

If you didn’t understand.

He’ll make you understand.

That humanity is what you don’t need. He’ll be all of what you need. He’ll spoil you. Praise you. Pleasure you.

He is yours, and You are his.

#record of ragnarok #apollo #apollo x reader #amazon #female reader #yandere #obsession #oneshot #yandere themes #anime #shuumatsu no valkirye #possession #snv apollo #ror apollo #x reader

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chatsukimi · 2 months

Text

ꜱᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ ꜱᴀᴠᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ/ꜰʟᴀᴍᴇꜱ (ʜᴇɪᴀɴ-ᴇʀᴀ) "hell is a pit of fire for a reason" ｅｎｅｍｉｅｓｔｏｌｏｖｅｒｓ，ｓｕｋｕｎａｘｒｅａｄｅｒ，Ｈｅｉａｎ－ｅｒａ.

A chill washes over your body, as though a presence has come to visit you. Your eyes snap open, drawn to the Cursed Spirit at the door.

Instantly, you recognise it's a Special Grade. And you sense more crawling down the hallway.

This cannot be happening.

You swing your bedside lamp through the paper window and clamber out, only to be greeted by more of those beasts. Never in your life have you seen this many curses in one place. Why are they here?

BOOM.

An invisible force thrashes you into a tree. You mutter, casting a wave of fire at the Curse behind you.

It's only been a week since you and Sukuna's... falling out. He couldn't have...

A little part of you knows the King of Curses bears no mercy. You've seen him slash a whole village. You've listened to his apathy when the numbers are read in court, the casualties. You, first-hand, had heard him say he could not care less if you went missing.

Maybe he sent these Curses after you, to punish you for disobedience.

As your body drags you further up the hill, away, away, far up from the chasing Curses, your soul is drawn like a magnet towards the tower in the distance. The turret stands tall and imposing over Kyoto, its shadows merciless over the temples. Sukuna's.

Another wall of flames.

The Curses dodge.

At the top of the hill, you hands fumble as you transfer your whispers into a tiny ball of flame. Your head doesn't register what you're doing.

A Curse lunges for your leg. Bites.

You shriek, whacking the Curse to tear it off. It is only getting darker.

Sukuna.

His name plagues your thoughts.

If only... if only Sukuna... Sukuna...

You send out the orb of fire surging into the night.

...

The King of Curses paces around his room in the darkness, until suddenly, he swears.

Something is blinding in the corner of his eye. He whips around and watches an orb glint, bobbing towards him.

Fire.

You.

He crosses the room in fluid steps.

"Special Grades... help. Kuna-"

The words seem to burn him. And he staggers back.

Special Grade Curses. What are they doing? Why are they coming for you?

He races out onto the balcony, tracing where the message originated to find you. He swears again. His fingers are shaking.

When he descends onto the scene, the remnants of smoke and ash linger in his memory.

...

Sukuna watches as the curses encircle you, each one trying to land a fatal strike. He sees you fight and thinks back to the last time he had seen you.

You had been running away from him.

His eyes narrow in rage, as he unleashes his domain expansion. He has to be careful to spare you. The shrine instantly obliterates the cursed spirits.

Upon noticing him, you drop down to your knees, your head bowed to hide the tears welling up.

It's been only a week, yet he cannot anticipate your reaction. Would you shout at him to get away? Had you forgiven him, why you called him to come save you?

"Thank you, Lord Sukuna."

Remember, that's all there is between you. A lord and his subject.

Despite the praise, Sukuna can't help but feel a tinge of guilt for how things had played out between you and him. Something more than hurt pride causes you to hide your pain. Sukuna notices the blood that stains your leg, which you move roughly behind your other leg, out of sight.

"You were about to die, and your first thought was to ask for my help," he mutters.

"I'm sorry." You try to keep yourself together. "It's the middle of the night- I'm sorry for waking you."

But speaking it out loud makes it sound all the more real, the distance between you. And you only bow lower.

He tries to swallow down the ache in his throat. Perhaps he had dismissed you too cruelly. He looks anywhere but you.

He had built you up then tossed you into the wilderness, yet here you are, not blaming him, not even asking for an apology. You only wanted to... to thank him.

"Don't apologise," Sukuna says, quietly, as if it were natural for a lamb to rely on the wolf's protection.

You take a leap of faith and look up, whispering, "if there is nothing else you want from me, I think- I should get this fixed."

You hobble to your feet. He looks down at your leg and his gaze softens. You wonder if he cares at all, stumbling away in a trail of blood.

Then, he scoffs (as if you could hide from him) and follows.

When you reach your living room, you close the shoji screen. But you still sense his familiar power, washing through the cold atmosphere, Sukuna.

He asks, hesitant, "may I enter?"

Why is he even asking? He's the King of Curses! He could knock down this place as easily as breaking an empire, he could destroy eons of progress, bend kingdoms to his will, but even he could feel like a little boy waiting outside your door, for your acceptance or refusal, like he knew he was just like the curse, dangerous yet longing for your touch. His need to pull you so close you were bound by blood and flesh. His heartbeat pounds in his ears at the silence.

You freeze.

You murmur, "... OK."

Sukuna inhales a deep breath and steps into the room. He takes in the condition of the messed up furniture, and you, the state of your attempt to patch up your leg. It hadn't worked in the slightest.

"Do you mind if I provide you with aid?"

You lean back in your chair, huffing out a light breath, attempting to cover your nerves. "I didn't know how to do anything but slice your enemies in half."

Sukuna reveals his teeth, a brutally rare thing. "Don't underestimate my abilities. They far surpass the notion of 'slicing my enemies in half'."

You bite your lip and stays sitting as he nears. Your heartbeat begins to quicken and you're too tired to fight off the instinct.

He has not forgotten your connection, no matter how hard he tried. You and your annoying technique of setting his heart alight. He continues to close the distance between you.

He tilts his head to the side, looking down at you.

"Are you not worried about my proximity?"

"No," you whisper.

You ought to be afraid. He is a thousand times the potency of a Special Grade. He could rip you in half- who says he wouldn't, just to play with you?

"I don't like it..." he mutters, his voice soft and hoarse. You cannot imagine the hatred he feels for you. "I hate it... I despise every second you are near me."

Just as you are about to advise that he leave, Sukuna stares at you -crimson eyes in the moonlight- and grits his teeth.

"... but I hate you more when you are far."

He wants to punish you, to make you endure what he had in the past week, but... he can't.

"Close your eyes," he murmurs, his tone laced with resentment.

You close your eyes and feels him kneel to take a closer look at your leg. He slowly traces the gnash with his fingers, and as he does, a cold sensation creeps into your veins. He channels his cursed energy, and you feel the wound beginning to mend itself.

After a few minutes, the process is complete and he stands up.

Reverse-curse technique. You had never seen him use it on anybody. It is the opposite of slash, an abomination of a Technique. Yet something tells you he took his time with you. While you were blind to the vision, you could sense your weakness leaching onto him as he healed you.

"Thank you... Sukuna."

"Do not mention it," he utters, devoid of any emotion. His feet shift, turning towards the exit. Two weights.

You don't know why you do what you do next. You don't know if it's out of gratitude or out of nostalgia. All you know is that the King of Curses is a frightfully cold thing for a person so alive, one shade from freezing, and your palms are warm from the fire. You abruptly capture him in a hug.

He feels your body against his. You stay there, his flame.

He had never felt this close, so interwoven; his body feels more alive than it had ever been.

Sukuna reaches for your waist to push you away, but his arms only drape across. Break free, break free, break free-

The only thing left to lie is his tongue.

"Let go of me."

He had intended it to sound intimidating. It rings more like a plea. He would much rather you fight him, so he would have something real to slice, but this is warm and soft and weak... and it is the most human he has felt in a long time.

"No."

He pushes you against the wall. "I said, let go of me." He dips his head to your level, threatening, "understand? I said," -bumps noses, leans his forehead against yours- "- you will never survive next to me. You will burn out."

He touches his lips forcefully against the corner of your mouth, not willing himself any further. Already the isolation is seeping into his bones from the lack of you.

"Never," you hiss back. "You think you'd be the one to take me out?"

Sukuna raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

"You won't kill your flame,' you whisper.

"Fuga," he commands.

You part your lips. Just like that, he closes the distance.

Hell is a pit of fire for a reason.

#sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna angst #angst #jjk angst #enemies to lovers #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen scenario #sukuna

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raimoka · 4 months

Text

— " IL BANCHETTO FINALE "

｡ ㅤꕤ ㅤ PAIRING: beast dazai & reader.

SYNOPSIS: in which, dazai wishes to dance with you for the last time as a goodbye before proceeding with his plan.

tags ➜ beast spoilers, dazai is hopelessly in love with reader, established relationship, gender neutral reader, kinda angsty but generally a fluff, author may or may have not described the dancing rather poorly, lowercase as always. ‹𝟹

⋆ author's notes: i miss my wife beastzai, do not read beast, that shit ruins you. please also read the end note.

send an order!! → guide ❀ flowers ←

It was raining.

the tune of russian waltz — on the hills of manchuria — was playing in the background, mixing along with the sound of the rain drops falling audibly down on the metal window ledge. your gaze remained on the glass of the window, sprinkles of the rain dripping down the mirror. the skies had gotten darker and the clock read it was 1:45 am — osamu would often come home sometime during midnight. you would normally be asleep during midnight, however, as you were heading to bed earlier, a part of your mind was telling you to wait till osamu came back home. you didn't understood why but the thought lingered and you ended up being persuaded.

you were currently sitting on an arm chair, back pressing against the soft cushions. a cup of tea you brewed laid before you on a table accompanied by a opened book you were reading previously; both forgotten as your thoughts began to shift to your lover.

as you rested your head on your hand, the noise of the door opening abruptly interrupted your thoughts and you stood up from the armchair you were sitting on earlier.

you approach him steadily and you pulled him into a warm embrace, pressing your cheek against his chest.

"welcome home, osamu..." you murmur wearily and a soft laughter elicited from him.

"you sound so tired, 'bella." he pointed out as he snaked his slim arms around your waist.

"i was waiting for you."

as you uttered those words, the words in his throat died. he parted his lips but no words came out. silence filled the atmosphere, the only thing that could be heard was the waltz combining with the sound of the heavy rain.

he cleared his throat.

"you didn't need to, you know I'd be safe." he spoke, breaking the serene air that was occupying the room.

you laughed softly, "I initially planned to go sleep immediately." you paused your words before continuing.

"but I couldn't shake it off my mind. for some reason, my mind is telling me to spend more time with you and i'm worried that someday, you will disappear."

you didn't understand why you were being so open to him this time but you felt like it was necessary to say. you sensed his arms withdrawing from your waist slightly and he placed his hands instead on your waist.

"why don't i help you forget it?"

you blinked, he smiled softly before adding something else.

"i wanna ease your worries and... it seems important to do so."

because this will because the last moment we will spend.

he bit back his words. as he speaks, he gently separated his other hand on your waist and took your hands within his, interlacing your fingers together. your expression seemed rather surprised but as he interlaced your fingers together, you looked up at him, accepting his invitation to dance around, you put your hand on his shoulder and followed his steps. with a soft smile, he pulled you come closer to him.

as you two dance to the waltz playing in the background, you noticed two things about this; he completely knew each steps of the waltz's dance, and he held a melancholic gaze as he spun you rhythmically to the instrumental. while you resumed ogling at him mindlessly, a small smirk adorned his plump lips and spoke.

"you're staring at me a little too hard, 'bella." dazai teased lightly and you rolled your eyes, shifting your eyes from him before speaking.

"I didn't know you were familiar with these type of waltz, 'samu."

"I always liked this waltz."

"seriously? I never thought you would've liked these sort of songs." but osamu was always unpredictable, he never talked a lot about himself often with you, even after you managed to break in through the thick walls that encaged his throbbing heart.

you proceeded to gaze on your feets moving on the floor. you didn't understand much why he was so melancholic during this time, he was also clearly masking his intentions. you couldn't read his eyes either, his eyes were always swirling with emptiness — this was the first time you saw his eyes with this much melancholiness. he was so close and yet so far. you wanted to be even closer, you wanted to be close to his heart.

perhaps you merely didn't understand something.

to you, this was a simple dance.

to him, this was a major extension — his goodbye to you.

with your gaze on your feets, he made sure to take in every single detail of you; how your lips were shaped, how your bangs framed your face, how soft your hand felt within his, how your voice sounded, how plump your face was, how warm your body felt compared to his ice cold body, that you had grown accustomed to over time, and how your eyes shone with light, even with the slightest — oh, how he'd hate to see the pain in your eyes to his death.

he didn't even want to die.

he wanted to sink in the warm embrace of your arms and always stay by your side till you both die from old age. your embrace is something he certainly will miss in the afterlife, whether it'd be purgatory, hell, or maybe an abyss of darkness.

he wanted to spend his moments in his life with you, even if they were meaningless and you two were acting just the same as you both were while being idiots hopelessly in love each other even if it was so, so, selfish of him.

he didn't want to die but he needed to, for oda to live, and all he could do was at least give you a final goodbye before disappearing.

he lowered his eyes, he seemed to be in his own universe, and spun you again, he twirled you around as if you were a piece of porcelain he deeply prized, you could feel your worries gradually easing — even if you were still worried about his other intention for this action — with your bodies moving along the music. you glanced up where your hands joined and as the waltz's instrumental faded, he bended you over backwards slightly, wrapping his arm around your waist fully.

you shift your gaze to his eyes that usually reflected dullness once again but this time, they were closed. he was hiding how he felt... if he had his eyes closed you could never understand what was on his mind.

before you could part your lips to call him out to gain an ounce of his attention, he beat you over it.

"belladonna."

you lifted your head and answered with a hum.

"don't forget me."

you blinked, you seemed concerned and he couldn't blame you for that but you chose not to speak about it.

"I promise."

₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ taglists are open everytime.

2024 © reposts are prohibited with/without permission... plagiarism is prohibited. don’t translate my work without my permission. i will take measures of reporting you.

I know dazai truly wants to die but beast dazau doesn't want to. dazai in canon and beast are different, even in the slightest, this was proven if you read the day i picked up dazai.

#♱ 𝗟𝗔𝗜𝗩𝗔𝗜 ::#★ works .ᐟ #dazai x reader #beast dazai x reader #bsd x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #୭ৎ beastzai brainrot .ᐟ

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mika-no-sekai-blog · 6 months

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Word count: 1400+

Warnings: mentions of blood, depression, description of wound

In books there's no mention of Tamlin being able to winnow, but for the sake of story, let's pretend he can, okay?😉

Part II

You lived in a small cottage deep in the woods of Spring Court, far away from other fae. It wasn't like you hated them, they hated you. Most of the creatures living in this area avoided you, believing you had quite great powers and vicious nature, cursing anybody who crossed your way.

The rumours couldn't be further from the truth, but it didn't bother you what they said about you. You loved silence, enjoying every second of your lonely life in the heart of the nature.

You had several friends that used to stop by from time to time and brought you news, so you heard about everything that happened to your High Lord. You heard rumours about him going crazy, spending his days devastating his land in a form of horrific monster. You heard that fae ran away from this doomed Court. Last of your friends came to bid you farewell just few days ago trying to convince you to run away too. But why should you?

You lived alone, not caring about the outside world. You didn't care about what's happening out there, you didn't care about your High Lord nor the upcoming war. It had no meaning in your life. Feelings like hate, fear or love were just words with no particular meaning. And so the time passed slowly.

Fresh morning air brought smell of rain through the open window. Last night rained and the sound of raindrops on the roof of cottage lulled you to sleep. With bright smile you got up, changed and cleaned your room. Today it should be a nice sunny day. The intoxicating scent of flowers beckoned you out. Quickly you ran through your herb stocks and made a list of missing ones. You took small basket and went out to collect what you needed. Birds sang above your head as you bent down to tear off some chamomile flowers.

A roar thundered through the forest, making all birds fling away. You looked around with caution. Another roar shook the trees. And another. Now you knew where it was coming from. Quickly, but quietly you ran in that direction. It's in your nature to help to those who needed it. And this with no doubt sounded like somebody needed your help.

You ran up a hill ending in a cliff. And there down in a narrow valley on the other bank of small stream was lying the biggest beast you'd ever seen. Body of bear, head of wolf with antlers, his eyes were clenched in pain. On his side you could see deep wound, blood flowed in thin rivulets into the water. You didn't waste a second, climbed down and ran to its side. As you got closer, the beast opened its eyes and looked at you with a growl, showing off rows of sharp fangs. You halted and held up your hands.

"It's okay. You see? I'm not going to hurt you. I want to help you. Will you let me take a look?" you spoke to the beast in a soothing voice as you slowly step by step got closer. The beast growled again, but it put its head back on the ground. Green eyes never left yours, watching you with caution. Slowly you bent down. "Can I?" you gestured to the wound. It took few heartbeats, but the beast nodded slightly.

You knelt down between enormous paws, trying to ignore the dagger-like claws that could turn you into shreds of flesh in less than minute and examined the wound. It was so deep you could see its bones and even though it'd already begun to heal, it had to be treated. You bit down your lower lip. You needed to get the beast to your cottage, but it's too big and couldn't walk on its own in this state.

"It's quite deep. I need bandages and salve, but I don't have it all with me now. I'd need to go home. You are too big and heavy, so I can't take you with me.." you started to explain.

"Where?" a male's voice rasped.

"What?" you questioned, not sure if you really heard it.

The beast blinked. "Where?"the voice repeated with great effort. You lips parted in surprise.

"Well.. My cottage is about a kilometer to the north east from here."

"'Know the place," it breathed out. "Hold on to me."

You weren't so stupid to think, it's a real speaking beast. If nothing else, its eyes gave you enough hint. Of course, it's a high fae, a shape-shifter. And it seemed he could even winnow, so you did as he told you and took his paw with both of your hands. In a blink of an eye you were back in your cottage. Your head spun after the winnow, but you ignored it. Quickly you brought everything you could need and started to work on him. After few minutes the wound was bandaged and bleeding had stopped as well.

"I'm done," you announced. "It will take some time to completely heal. You can stay here until you will be able to move again." You wiped your hands clean while the beast just was laying, eyes narrowed, lost in his thoughts. He didn't seem to be in pain anymore. "Would you like something to drink?" you asked him gently, peeking on him.

His eyes concentrated on you once again, roaming around your face and then down your body. There was so much sadness in them. He just shook his head. "So I will let you take some rest," you nodded. "If you change your mind or it hurts you, tell me." The beast snorted and his eyes once again stared into the distance, returning to whatever he was thinking about before.

Several days passed since you found the wounded beast and brought him to your cottage. He didn't want to eat nor drink and that made you worry. He didn't speak, answering you only with small nods, his gaze was unfocused. He just lay on the floor where he winnowed to, like a lifeless object, stuffed animal. Even his wound was closing slower than it should.

You believed that everything had its time. If he wanted to talk about what bothered him, he would already say something. It wasn't your place to stick your nose into other's troubles. But still you were worried about him. You even heard him cry in his sleep last night.

Every day you checked on his wound, applied the salve and wrapped it into clean bandages and today wasn't different. Before, you let him be after tending the wound, but not today. He needed help and you were more than ready to offer your help even though he didn't ask for it.

You made him tea and set the bowl in front of him. It would be easier if he turned back into his normal form, but it couldn't be helped. Maybe he was too weak to do so. You sat down next to him and in silence ran your fingers through the fur on his shoulder. He sighed and closed eyes. You didn't talk, just continued to stroke his shoulder. After few minutes he dipped his tongue in the bowl and drank a bit. His sad green eyes turned to you, watching you carefully.

"You don't have to do this," he rasped.

"I know," you answered gently. He huffed. His eyes roamed around the room as if it was the first time he noticed.

"For vicious witch, you live quite peacefully. Silently I'd say." Now it's time for you to huff.

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear."

"Everyone runs from this doomed Court. Why don't you do so too? Aren't you scared of High Lord?" His voice sounded so empty, without any feelings.

"I don't care about what's happening out there," you answered evasively.

"Hmm," he hummed. "Did you hear about his fiancée and the best friend? They ran away from him too. He certainly must be a monster." He watched you out of the corner of his eye.

"Maybe," you shrugged. "I've never met him. I would prefer to make my own opinion on him."

"I see," he drank some more of the tea and then stayed silent. His eyes were again sad and unfocused and you didn't press him more. However you continued to caress his fur without thinking. Soon enough his eyes closed and he fell asleep.

He slept for the rest of the day. You checked on him before going to the bed, but he was still fast asleep curled up into a ball. That night he seemed to rest peacefully without any haunting dreams.

In the morning when you came down, he was gone.

#tamlin #tamlin x reader #tamlin x you #tamlin acotar #tamlin fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #acotar #spring court #high lord tamlin #high lord of spring court #sarah j maas #tamlinweek #tamlin week #pro tamlin #tamlin angst

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sterek-stuffs · 1 year

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Do you get annoyed when people say the Sterek fandom is dead? Well, prove them wrong by reblogging this fresh new rec list of fics published in the past three years!

Pulling Strings by Gia279 54k words, M

Stiles and Derek pull off the ultimate game of survival charades: fooling the alpha pack into thinking their leader, alpha of alphas, demon wolf Deucalion himself, is still alive, in order to find the location of the Darach and save Beacon Hills and their pack, while Stiles learns to control this brand new, unusual power.

The Curse of the Love Sweater by HisBeloved 56k words, E

The "sweater curse" or "curse of the love sweater" is a term used by knitters to describe the belief that if a knitter gives a hand-knit sweater to a significant other, it will lead to the recipient breaking up with the knitter. When Stiles and Derek were children, a misunderstanding created a rift between Claudia Stilinski, owner of The Hale Yarn Company, and Talia Hale, the best knitter and spinner in the county, leading to the opening of Lucky Ewe, Claudia Stilinski's yarn store. Stiles and Derek have been lifelong competitors at the Beacon County Fair and after their mothers died, became owners of competing yarn shops. Derek is a budding knitwear designer on the eve of the release of his first book of patterns. Stiles wants him on his popular knitting YouTube show despite the decade-long feud between the Stilinski's and Hales. Hijinks, fluff, and ridiculousness ensue, and the boys get their happy ending.

Don't they know it's the end of the world? by flemoncake, mute90 20k words, M

Stiles thought being in love in a dangerous, post-apocalyptic world was a bad idea. He voted for pleasant, casual sex all the way. But being afraid of love doesn't stop it from coming after you. Being afraid doesn’t stop anything from coming after you.

love in suspension by creationmyth 6k words, T

They walk side by side back to the camaro, Derek’s all tensed up while Stiles hums some unnamable tune under his breath. When they finally break the treeline, Stiles pulls Derek by the arm so they’re face to face. “Thank you,” Stiles tells him quietly, making sure Derek knows he’s sincere. “It’s what we do.” It is. It really is. (or: Stiles and Derek learn, over time, how loyalty becomes love.)

ouroboros (get it right) by yesimirreputable 5k words, M

You try again, and the story's always the same: you never make it past eighteen.

a light and darkness in the heart of the forest by thedaughterofkings 10k words, T

There's a beast in the forest, they say. If you call to it, it will answer. To save his mom, Stiles will face up to it and hope the price won't be higher than the reward.

nothing but hope and virtue by dappledawndrawn, LeafZelindor 60k words, T

Senator Derek Hale, a California Democrat, had considered a future where he needed to hire a new campaign manager. He'd always expected to hire someone from inside the campaign. They'd have been familiar, respectful, come into his office carefully, with nervous excitement, and called him "sir" too much when asking for their first assignment. They'd have been familiar with the ins and outs of working with a werewolf pack, and everything would have been fine. Not great, maybe, but fine. But instead, Deaton retires with no warning, and almost sight-unseen, he hires Stiles Stilinksi, who is sprawled across his office couch, entering random contacts from Derek's Rolodex into his phone. Derek's a little in love with him. It's going to be a long campaign.

Fairy Wings and Beastly Tails by Bliz, PalenDrome (nerdherderette) 8k words, T

The prince knows it’s risky. He thinks about how he could manage without his wings; what his life would be like without flying or the ability to do spells. He thinks about his father and Scott, and all the others he’d leave behind if he fails. But then he thinks about the creature and the sadness in those green eyes, and how the image haunts his dreams. “I’ll do it,” he says as the Oak Witch’s grin grows wide.

Bite the Moonlight & Bleed Gold by raisesomehale 86k words, E

Seven years after being tricked and imprisoned by the Argents, Derek Hale finds himself off the blistering coasts of Antarctica aboard the Argentum Domina, an illegal prison ship out of which the Argents operate their behemoth, underground poaching empire. Bitter and packless, Derek spends his days working off his servitude by poaching creatures for Gerard to sell on the Black Magic Market, no future or end in sight. Until, Allison Argent brings him a capture case with a reward price so ludicrous that he has no choice but to accept. The only problem is, the target creature shouldn't even exist. Derek is flung fast into the deep webbings of a bigger mystery than he could have ever imagined. And discovers that, like this enchanting creature, not everything is as it seems.

My Soul to Keep by jacyevans, Jmeelee 18k words, T

Stiles came with a whiteboard, and blue dry erase marker, flapping it over his head like a white flag on a battlefield. "Come on," he coaxed. "You must want to say something. You've never gone this long without telling me to shut up." He waggled the marker in Derek's face. Stinging alcohol and pungent polymer singed Derek's nose hairs. His fingers itched to pick up the board, and not because he wanted to tell Stiles to be quiet. He enjoyed the babble that filled the apartment every few days, the hearty food, Stiles' particular, reassuring smell: maple sugar buzz, spicy-sweet deodorant, milk-sour frustration, floral shampoo, and spring grass at night. It soaked into Derek's couch, his bed, his skull. If any of it were real, Derek would take the board and write: thank you.

A Functioning Adult’s Field Guide to Enemies With Benefits by BisexualGoblin (LadyBoBo) 31k words, E

The six years Stiles was away for college, he certainly missed a lot—namely the whole best friend turned into a werewolf thing. But he didn’t think he missed enough to get replaced by a douche bag like Derek Hale. Now with Scott’s wedding looming, it’s the perfect chance for Stiles to show Derek who the real brains of the operation is. If only he could stop jumping into bed with him…

Let's build a beehive by GreyHaven 25k words, G

Ten years after he last saw Derek, Stiles' life is in ruins and he has nowhere else to turn. He has Derek's address but will he be welcomed? A post canon AU about healing, growth, acceptance, and love.

Handstands For You by Fenris13 15k words, E

"No, really, you don't have to—!" Stiles hisses, flinching as Derek rubs soap with needless intensity into the cut. "Shut up and keep still," Derek growls back. Stiles whines in response, squirming in Derek’s grip but otherwise following the order. Stupid werewolves and their stupid regeneratey-healy powers. It’s not Stiles’ fault that he’s wimpy and human, so when he gets thrown down a flight of stairs and through a rotten wooden wall by lake monsters, he still remembers it the next morning.

Shaking the wings of their terrible youths by Daisyapples 29k words, N/r

Stiles didn't expect much when he stopped a stranger being attacked in an alleyway. He didn't expect the wolf following him around New York, didn't expect the help when he was sick, didn't expect the psycho blond attacking him, or the place to stay. He didn't expect the new family. Oh, and he definitely didn't expect werewolves.

Dear Fellow Traveler by lanalua (this is me!) 32k words, M

Years after shit went down in Beacon Hills a traumatized Stiles is dating Lydia and living in New York, trying to avoid and get over anything related to the supernatural. When he finally decides to go back to his hometown and face his fears, he will be lead down a path of self-discovery that will change the course he had set for his life. Stiles shook his head. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Derek, it was just that he couldn’t. If he’d had magic the whole time, did it mean he could have been less useless back in highschool? Did it mean he could have helped, maybe kept Erica and Boyd alive? Kept Derek and Scott from leaving? It was too much. Guilt tore through his stomach like an arrow. He felt himself start to hyperventilate again.

As always, check the tags in individual fics to find out if they're right for you, and don't forget to leave the authors some love!

#teen wolf #sterek #teen wolf fic #sterek fic #fic recs #sterek fic recs #teen wolf fic recs #fic appreciation #fanfiction #teen wolf sterek #teen wolf fanfiction #it's me i'm the one that gets annoyed when people say that! excuse me I'm right here??? and also all of these wonderful writers as well???#long post #sorry about that btw

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firsttimewriter92 · 1 year

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Schilling for your thoughts Part 1

König x f!reader

Summary: You meet a peculiar man at your favourite bookstore and after talking to him a little bit, you wonder if you´ll ever see him again

Part 2 here Part 3 here

Word count: 2.538

Warnings: bit awkward, lots of fluff, German speaking, light cursing, pining König, military talk

Authors note: Yes, I am one of those who believe that König is a ginger, freckled, mighty sweetheart. (I was trying to find this amazing fanart I saw of him that basically started this fic, but I can´t find it again!! I´m sad; It´s so good) Only slightly awkward but he knows how to let someone know he´s interessted. He´ll only unleash the beast on the battlefield, that´s it. I will die on this hill!! Social anxiety, yes. But he´s not completely incapable of interacting with a person<3

Happily you skipped through the door of your favourite little bookstore. Bell chiming over your head, you saw the owners head appear from underneath the counter, instantly smiling at you.

“I just put them on the shelve,” she winked at you. “Shelve 12, row 10.” Rushing by her you squealed a thank you in her direction and hurried into the back of the store. You had been waiting for this book for ages. When you found out your favourite author was releasing a new book after almost 6 years of abstinence, you immediately let Lucy the owner know. This morning she called you excitedly, telling you the book finally arrived.

You made your way over to the back of the store. It was packed with ceiling high shelves, little tables and armchairs scattered across the room, most of them in front of the three large windows. You loved spending your time in this controlled area of chaotic furniture choices, colours and smells of coffee, old and new books and slightly dusty air.

Usually you favoured this establishment not just because of the atmosphere and Lucy´s motherly warm nature but also because most of the time, it was pleasantly empty and quiet. Quiet it was this time as well but you couldn´t help but notice the man sitting in one of the armchairs in front of the windows. A huge volume in his hands, his face almost buried in it. Something about the way he was sitting seemed odd to you. Not being able to put your finger on what it was exactly you shrugged mentally and made a beeline towards shelve 12.

Grumbling a little you remembered the row number Lucy gave you. 10. Great, you thought. You didn´t have to hide them that well so I could be the first one to get a copy, Lucy. Craning your neck you looked for the bright red and silver book back you knew your newest little treasure would have. There! You grinned and hopped a little as you whipped your head around the room, looking for the step ladder you knew Lucy kept here somewhere. Not being able to find it immediately your impatience took over. With a little grunt you began pushing one of the armchairs towards the shelve. “Damn it, Lucy. Why do you have such an obsession with antient furniture?” You cursed quietly under your breath. “So heavy!”

“You need help with that, Miss?” A quiet voice asked behind you. You whipped around and saw that the man you noticed before had lowered the picture book and was looking at you curiously and maybe a little amused. You weren´t that short but it was undeniable that you wouldn’t be able to reach your object of desire unless you managed to move the heavy chair. Grinning a bit flustered you stopped pushing the piece of furniture and sheepishly you answered. “If you wouldn´t mind. This chair is really heavy. I don´t know where Lucy put the ladder and without it, these books up there are out of reach.”

The man’s eyes twinkled for a second as his gaze fluttered upwards towards the last row. “Not necessarily” he said with a friendly, tight lipped smile. The next moment you found out why you thought his sitting looked so odd in the plush chair. He bent his knees to get up and they definitely rose above the angle of his hips. You tried not to stare, really, you did, as the man rose, rose and rose higher and higher until a massive body unfolded from the chair, standing, stretching for a second and then slumping in on itself almost comically. His shoulders hunched and head slightly bent downwards he made his way over to you, observing your reaction with a careful glance. You understood why immediately. 6´10. That was your best guess. With a warm feeling in your belly you noticed that he was trying to make himself smaller.

Don’t comment on his height, don’t comment on his height, you thought and tried to school your features. He´s probably heard it all! He seemed to appreciate your silence and little smile.

As he stood next to you, you noticed that your head didn´t even reach shoulder. He was looking at the books at the highest point and you got the chance to observe him a little closer. His hair was a fascinating colour. A rich auburn glow leaning heavily towards red. He had tied it into a low bun at the base of his neck. Little whisps of it escaping and curling against his temple and forehead. Fascinated you saw that his eyebrows and even his long lashes were the same shade. They framed slightly droopy eyes the colour of…Blue? Green? You couldn’t really tell from your angle. His nose was long and slightly curved, accentuating a full upper lip and a strong, stubbled jaw. He had an almost regal look to him. That was if he didn’t stand there slouching.

You hadn’t realized while appreciating his features that he had slightly turned his face towards you. Smiling shily he quirked an eyebrow, seemingly waiting for one of the comments he was definitely used to. When he realized you weren´t going to comment his smile stretched into a boyish grin you just had to reciprocate. Doing that you quickly noticed two more things about him. His canines stood out sharper than you had ever seen on a person, giving him a bit of a wolfish look that for some reason made you heart stutter in your chest. The other thing was a faint white scar reaching from his plump upper lip up to his nostril. You recognised the scar of an early on fixed cleft lip and knew that they tended to pull the lip slightly upward on one side. In his case though, especially when he grinned like that it wasn’t that noticeable. It gave him character.

He cleared his throat a bit awkwardly and snapped you out of your little stupor. Catching his eyes you saw how an adorable dust of pink covered his cheeks and the tips of his ears, making the scattering of freckles around his nose even more enticing. Stop. Staring. At. Him.

He nodded his head towards the books and reached out one of his surprisingly bulgy arms. A long finger tapped the back of a black and grey one. Looking down at you questioningly and not saying a word he quirked an eyebrow. Biting your tongue and smiling mischievously you shook your head. He nodded and studied the books again, his finger gliding over the spines of them. Halting again at a brown, faux leather bound massive copy, he again gave you a quick questioning look. This time however with a playful smirk pulling on the corner of his mouth. Liking his little game more and more you crossed your hands behind your back and began to lean back and forth on your heels, again shaking your head. He hummed and huffed in mock annoyance making you honest to god, giggle. You weren’t the giggling type! What the hell was going on?!

You had already realised that he wasn’t a man of many words so you played along for another two attempts of his until he finally tapped on the spine of your desired book (he damn well knew which one you wanted from the start). You nodded excitedly and he chuckled deep in his throat awakening goosebumps all over your arms as a result. He pulled the book out and slowly handed it to you. You took it in your hands carefully and full of awe, eyes sparkling as you brushed your fingers over the name of your favourite story teller. “Thank you very much” you breathed and gave him a brilliant smile. Again the tips of his ears went bright red but his voice was strong when he said “No worries. Happy to help you.” Only now you noticed the slight accent. Interesting, you thought.

Pressing the book happily to your chest you looked up into his face. “I see you like medieval blacksmithing” you said and pointed to the huge book that he left on one of the tables. He stood a little more erect and nodded his head quickly. “Yes” he said excitedly as you both walked over to the pair of soft chairs. “It´s so fascinating. Hardly believable what they accomplished without modern technology. Beautiful craftsmanship too. Look here”, he opened the book and pointed at the depiction of a beautiful Viking sword. His enthusiasm warmed your body and something in your chest began to pull yourself towards him. Without realising it, you both had sat down next to each other, the huge volume in the middle. Turning page after page, he showed you many more fascinating facts and pictures, all the while talking animatedly.

It seemed like you had to revoke your statement from before. He was a talker. Once he was comfortable.

Time seemed to stand still. From time to time you glanced at him as he spoke softly about different types of iron compositions. Although his height was intimidating, he was far from that. At least here with you. You guessed he was in his late twenties or maybe early thirties. When he showed you a particular picture he moved the book closer, leaning over the arm of the chair closer to you.

He smelled divine. Musky, yet sweet. Earthy and somehow crisp. A serene scene developed behind your eyes. An early spring morning, wet with dew clinging to sweet smelling crocuses. Only the heavy fog wafting over the ground an indication that winter was still holding on. And while you looked at his profile your skin erupted in pleasant chills as you imagined the first clear rays of sunshine breaking through said fog, illuminating the delicate process of nature’s awakening.

It was like his presence and voice opened the floodgates of your own imagination. You felt yourself becoming helplessly attracted to him. The pull in your chest becoming stronger by the minute.

Suddenly you weren’t looking at his profile anymore. He had turned his head, looking into your eyes. Silence spread between you. A comfortable one. Enamoured you tried to figure out the colour of his eyes. Blue, you noticed. With a hint of green. Seafoam. Or maybe not? Jade green with a dusting of light blue. Maybe that was it. You found it impossible to look away. And so did he. His gaze was on you. Your eyes, your nose, your mouth, your eyes again. They looked curious and gentle.

None of you realised how much you had leaned into each other. With your noses almost touching, a blaring alarm suddenly made both of you jump back into your seats, hearts hammering wildly. Almost panicked he fished through the pockets of his jeans until he pulled out his phone.

His eyes went comically wide and in a flurry of powerful limbs he clambered upright. “Oh verdammt, verdammt” (damn)he cursed as he pulled a worn leather jacket over his broad shoulders. Your heart fluttering when you recognized the words. “I´m so sorry. I´m terribly late. I have to go.” You felt your stomach drop in a weird way. Walking towards the front door he gave you an almost pained look full of hesitation. You stood there almost as helpless, not wanting him to leave.

“Wie ist dein Name?” (What´s your name?) you asked a little hesitant. His jaw went slack and he gave you a look of surprise and pure adoration before showing you his lovable canines again in a grin and answered. “Du kannst König zu mir sagen, Maus.” (You can call me König, mouse)

You gave him another beautiful smile, touched your chest and gave him your own name. He rolled it around on his tongue and you were sure he could see the tremor in your hands. Your face felt like it was on fire, your knees weak. With a lift of his hand and a small wave he opened the door to the store and turned around one last time. “Ich hoffe wir sehen uns wieder, ___ -Maus.” (I hope we´ll see each other again, ___- mouse)

True to the little nickname he gave you, you squeaked beyond flustered but nodded your head enthusiastically. His eyes blitzed happily and then he turned and began jogging down the street in a hurry.

Your mind an absolute mess and head swirling you turned towards the counter and swallowed.

One elbow parched onto the wood, her head leaned into her hand, Lucy tapped the acrylic nails of her other hand slowly on the counter giving you the most shit eating grin you had ever seen on her.

“Don´t” you said with a sigh. She blew a disbelieving raspberry and started laughing. “Are you kidding me?! Of course I will!! What in the shit was that!? Since when do you speak German and who´s horse was that?!?!?! My sweet child, you two were so into each other you didn’t even notice me over here!” Her wide brown eyes stared you down while you tried to hide your flustered expression.

Walking over to her you leaned over the counter and lay your head on it. Lucy still tried to control her giggles. “I don´t know, okey? He was just…he got my book off the shelve and then…medieval blacksmithing…Grin...EYES!” you groaned out almost exasperatedly.

“Oh deary, I noticed. You were back there for almost two hours. I thought for a moment you ditched me without paying.” You stood up straight again and gave her an unamused look. “You know I´d never do that.” Lucy nodded good naturedly. “Of course I do but seriously, how is it you speak German?”

“I don’t speak that much, honestly. Most of it is self-taught. I just…like it” you shrugged. “Well, HE obviously did too” Lucy winked, her impossibly white teeth shining. You groaned again but couldn’t hide the massive grin.

“You need to come into the shop every day now in case he comes back” your friend said while pouring you a cup of coffee.

With a huff your heart sank again. “I can´t,” you said in a small voice. “I don´t have any more vacation days this year and they really need me on base.”

Lucy tutted and looked a bit miffed. “You know, one would think that a military base would have more than one chief mechanic for their helis and shit.” You snorted at her offended tone and your heart grew several sizes for your friend.

“Tell you what” she said in a determined voice. “Next time he comes in, I´ll give him your number. NO buts!” she held her finger in your face and swirled it, crunching up her adorable button nose. “It´s not like he´s easy to overlook.”

You grinned and nodded your head in defeat. It wasn’t like you didn’t want him to have your number. Of course you did. But with all your duties on base, you didn’t know if you would have the chance to give it to him personally. So you just hoped that the man named König would somehow stumble into your life again. As adorably as he did this afternoon.

_________________________________________________________

Weeeeeeell? What do we think? Part 2? I do have an idea for a mini series so let me know if you woul´d like to read that ;) There will be smut if you like. Let me know if you´d like to be tagged and check out my account for more spicy and fluffy stories.

Thank you very much for reading <3 If you´d like please interact with this post. Comments, liks and reblogs always make my day. Your opinion matters greatly. Only with feedback can I improve :) I´d also like to thank TikTok for feeding me König content so religiously that I had no other chance than to write this

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fairysluna · 1 year

Text

the summer islands.

In a failed attempt of escaping, Aegon accidentally arrives in an unknown island where a lovely and lonely girl lives.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING – Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader.

TAGS/TW – fluff, mentions of parental neglect, nudity (not in a sexual way), cursing, golden retriever and black cat dynamic.

AUTHOR'S NOTE – First repost of my old blog, I was just getting started in writing in English so pls don't be so harsh with me lmao. This was a request (my first request ever, actually), and it turned out to be my favourite fic written by me. so yeah, enjoy!!🤍 (pd, i used to write in 3rd person, so...)

WORD COUNT – 8.0k

FEEDBACK, SHARES AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!!

"No, no, no!" Aegon yelled at his dragon. "Not here, Sunfyre! sōvēs, sōvēs!"

No matter how loud he would scream at his loyal dragon, no matter how strong he would pull the ropes; the beast was reluctant in following his orders.

Sunfyre landed on top of a hill, sighing tiredly while he laid down on the greenest grass Aegon has ever seen. He tried to make him stand up again; pulling the ropes, yelling a thousand commands on High Valyrian, but the golden dragon was not interested in following his words.

“Fuck!” He yelled while reluctantly getting down from his dragon’s back.

He was whispering inappropriate words, and after taking one bad step, he fell onto his back; that did nothing but make him more angry —and ashamed. He cursed the Seven Gods, blaming them for his terrible luck during that day.

Aegon looked around while he was standing on his feet once again, he was trying to see if someone had seen his shameful fall. Luckily for him, no one seemed to be near him, the only thing he could perceive was a bunch of trees and lots of green hills that were covering all the surface of the land.

He walked in front of a sleepy Sunfyre, and he only grew desperate when he saw him closing his eyes. “No, no, no!” He screamed. “Don’t sleep- Fuck!” He looked around, now in despair, “They’re going to find me! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The dragon moved his head, hiding it from the stressed man. Aegon brushed his face anxiously, sighing and about to cry for desperation. He kept trying to wake his dragon, but Sunfyre was already snoring softly. He looked like a maniac, feeling that his brother would appear behind his back with his large dragon at any moment now.

“I can’t fucking believe it.” He muttered. "You traitor! How can you do this to me? I thought we were brothers! Now, get up! We have to go-”

"Are you hurt?"

A voice behind his back made him jump out of fear. He quickly grabbed the hilt of his sword, taking it out of his scabbard and turned around, facing the strange girl that came out of nowhere. He pointed at her with the tip of his sword, but she did not even flinch. He was entirely confused about where she came from, just a few minutes ago he turned around to see his surroundings and he never saw her coming. She just appeared by his side.

"Who the fuck are you?" He asked harshly and unkindly, not trusting her.

"You seem lost." She deducted, a small smile formed on her face. "I can help you." She said, but Aegon did not let his guard down. "Is your dragon hurt?"

"No," He quickly answered, as if he was trying to prove his dragon was healthy and ready to fight against any threat, "He is completely healthy, he just decided to be lazy!"

"It's a gorgeous dragon." She said walking towards him. "Can I touch him?"

"I don't think that's a good idea, he can be-"

He stopped himself once he realized she did not listen to his words, instead, she just put one of her hands on the golden scales. Aegon was waiting for a reaction from him, something that might scare her away, but Sunfyre only curled under her touch, as if he was a huge cat instead of a giant and dangerous beast. "What the-"

"It's such a beauty." She commented, completely enchanted by the creature. "I never thought I would live to see one... What's its name?"

"Sunfyre." He answered, feeling odd. "He's a male."

"Oh, so he is a boy!" She said, laughing joyfully. "Look at you, pretty, pretty boy." She whispered to the dragon. "What a sight you are!”

"He's- he's not a boy." Aegon muttered, "He's a dragon male, a big, fearful, scary dragon male."

“He seemed harmless.” She thought.

“He’s not.” He rushed to say. “And I think it is better if you leave him alone. He is not very fond of strangers.”

Aegon walked towards her in order to pull her away from Sunfyre, but the tail of the dragon got in his way without him seeing it. As a result, he ended up tripping and falling on top of the girl, who just gasped out of surprise and then laughed cheerfully while Aegon groaned on top of her.

He frowned, and took his time to see her face carefully for the first time. She was not ugly, she was actually quite far from being ugly; her smile was charming and the way the corner of her eyes wrinkled when she was laughing was just bewitching. Aegon found himself staring at her longer than he should, but the girl under him did not seem to mind. Instead, she looked back at him and saw some scratches on his face, she immediately got worried and with a breathless voice she asked him once again,

“Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

Aegon did not know how, but he ended up in the house of the girl, eating an incredibly delicious soup and with his face completely washed. He had got rid of the dry blood on his face and cleaned his scratches, which he did not even remember how he got.

The house was not big at all, it was more like a cottage not larger than his own room. It was made of wood, the kitchen was in one corner and the bed on the other, the table only had two chairs and it was in the middle of the house. There were lots of plants of every kind and a strong scent of cinnamon and vanilla. Aegon thought it was comfortable and warm, it felt like a home; which was better than living in a huge castle made of stone.

He would rather live there, away from everything.

The door was open harshly and the girl walked in with a bag filled with vegetables and fruits. She was agitated, as if she was running from something, however Aegon did not seem worried about it because she was smiling; she was always smiling.

“I stole a sheep for Sunfyre.” She said, excitedly.

Aegon widened his eyes and choked with the soup. He started coughing while the girl left the bag on the floor. “You did what?” He asked incredulously.

“My neighbor has plenty of them, you don’t have to worry, he won’t even notice!” She explained, moving her hands and trying to play down the situation.

“And why the fuck would you do that?”

“He seemed hungry.” She shrugged.

“Your neighbor?”

“No, your dragon!” She laughed. “I had to run before he would catch me, he’s a fast runner and running up a hill with a sheep on your shoulders is quite hard.”

“You’re fucking mental.” He whispered under his breath, without her hearing him.

He looked at her strangely, following her with his eyes while she was pouring some soup in a small bowl. Then, she sat in front of him and started drinking it. Aegon was still staring at her slightly frowning, he thought she was quite peculiar.

“While you were yelling at your dragon, I heard that you were going somewhere.” She said, “Where were you going? It seemed urgent.”

“You heard that?” He asked, a bit scared. He remembers looking around the place and not seeing anyone.

“I did.” She nodded, “I saw you falling from your dragon too. That was a bit funny.” She chuckled.

“How- Oh, fuck me.” He sighed.

“So, where were you going?”

“I’m not comfortable with sharing that kind of information to someone I just met.” Aegon said, now he was being careful with his words, because he was starting to get a bit scared of her. “I don’t even know your name.”

“I’m y/n!” She replied cheerfully. “What’s your name?”

“Uhm… Aegon.”

“Aegon?” She repeated, her voice tone was more serious now.

Aegon shrink on his seat, and he looked at her expectantly. He thought she would be able to recognize his name, or his not-so-discreet hair. He thought that, once she realizes who he was, she might sell him away in exchange for a couple coins of gold. Instead, she just laughed again.

“It sounds like ‘egg’!” She finally said, Aegon let out a breath of relief.

“No, it doesn’t.” He replied, offended.

“It’s a nice name, though.” She praised, “It’s original, I like it. Aegon, Aegon, Aegon.” She repeated, “Sounds good. Aegon, Aegon-”

“Please, stop.” He said annoyed.

The smile on her face trembled a little. She just cleared his throat and looked down at her soup in order to take her eyes away from him. Aegon felt a bit bad for it, seeing how her smile almost disappeared because of him, however, he did not say anything else. He did not know why he felt bad for her in the first place.

“Well, now that you know my name and I know yours, and we are less strangers for each other,” She took a sip from her soup, “Will you tell me where you were going?”

“Why do you want to know?”

She shrugged, “Just curious.”

Aegon sighed and rolled his eyes. Something inside of him told him that it was a bad idea and he should leave immediately, but the other part of him told him to stay, to be nice to the kind girl that gave him food and shelter, and even stole a sheep for his dragon.

“I was going to Pentos.” He replied.

“Why?”

“You are curious, aren’t you?”

“Just a bit.” She put her index finger against her thumb making a gesture that was cute enough to hinder him.

“I was escaping.” He confessed.

“From whom?”

“My family.” He replied, “My mother, more specifically.”

“Why would you escape from your family, Aegon?” She asked again, and Aegon forced himself to not roll his eyes again.

“They- uhm, they are forcing me to do something I don’t want to do.”

“What thing?”

“Okay, that’s enough.” He raised his voice a little, starting to lose his patience. The girl leaned back, and a small ‘sorry’ escaped from her lips.

Aegon once again felt guilty as the room stayed in silence, and again he did not know why, which was a bit frustrating for him. She started to eat her soup quietly while he just looked at her, trying to read through her. That girl was a whole mystery, Aegon has never met someone so peculiar as her.

“How does it feel?” Her voice sounded softer and slower than the times before. Aegon frowned, confused.

“What thing?”

“To have a family.” She said, “I never had one.” She revealed, she tried to smile but Aegon saw the quivering on the corners of her mouth. “I mean- I had my mother, but- uhm, one day she left and I haven’t seen her since then.”

“Well, I can’t tell you nice things about my family. They’re all a piece of shit.”

“At least you have one.”

“I would rather not have one.” He confessed, “You’re all alone and you seem to do pretty well.”

When her smile completely disappeared, he knew he had fucked up once again. A small curse left his lips before starting to apologize, which was something quite odd coming from him.

“I mean- I’m sorry.” He was surprised by how fast he had said those words. He was not used to using them. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s okay.” She spoke softly, nodding. “I don’t mind.”

She stood up from the table and took the two small bowls with her. Aegon almost complained since he still had some soup left, but he thought he had already said enough. It seemed as if every time he would open his mouth he would hurt her feelings, so he decided to be quiet while he followed her with his purple tired eyes.

He soon stood up too, starting to gather his belongings –which was only his scabbard and a bag with some of his clothes– and getting ready for departure. He took a deep breath, feeling his stomach full and then he said,

“Well, I must thank you for your kindness.” He spoke while she was starting to clean the dishes, “But I must go now.”

She turned quickly, dropping the crockery on the table and wiping her hands with a small cloth. Her eyes seemed to be confused.

“What? You’re leaving so soon?”

“If I leave now I will arrive in Pentos in no time.”

“But- but it’s dark, and Sunfyre is sleeping, I-” She sighed, “I thought you were staying for the night. You should stay.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” He said, “I’ll find some lodging over there, don’t worry.”

“But they’ll make you pay.”

“Well, I’ll have to pay either way if I want to live there.” He deducted with an obvious tone.

“Please, stay the night.” She asked him, “I can make you some good food in the morning so you will have energy to travel… I can steal another sheep for Sunfyre too!”

“But where would I sleep?”

“In the bed!” She pointed at the small bed in the corner of the house. “It’s not so big but it is quite comfortable.”

“Did you steal your neighbor’s sheep to make the cushions?” He joked, and she smiled.

“How did you know?” She asked, genuinely surprised.

“I- I didn’t-” Aegon was taken aback by her answer, and he shook his head. “There’s only one bed.”

“I can sleep on the floor.”

“But you would be uncomfortable.” He surprised himself by his genuine concern.

“But you wouldn’t.” She insisted. “You can leave with Sunfyre on the morrow. He is sleeping now, look at him!”

She pointed through the window and Aegon saw outside, moving the curtain to have a better view. His dragon was sleeping soundly and he sighed, knowing that he would not wake up even if he screamed in his ear. Sunfyre has the same sleep as his owner, which was quite prejudicial in this kind of situation.

He had no other choice but to stay.

The bed was so comfortable that it made him feel as if he was laying on clouds, the mattress would shape his body perfectly and the pillows were so soft and it smelled good. It was way better than his own bed on the Red Keep, and he knew as soon as he put his body on top of the mattress that it would be the best sleep he would ever have.

The next morning Aegon woke up and felt better than ever. That was probably the best sleep he had ever had in his twenty years of life. He looked around the house now in the daylight, and everything seemed even more cozy than before. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the girl beside the bed still sleeping soundly; he could see a small trace of drool coming from the corner of her mouth.

He stood up and started pacing around the tiny house. He grabbed a carrot from the bag of vegetables and fruits she had brought the prior night and looked through the window to check on Sunfyre. That's when his problems started again.

"No, no, no, no!" He muttered while opening the door in quick and nervous moves. "Fuck! Fuck!"

He got out of the house and started to look around, his dragon was nowhere to be found.

"YOU FUCKING TRAITOR!" He yelled at the skies, throwing the carrot in his hand away and moving desperate around the green fields. "Fuck!"

"Aegon?"

The sleepy girl stood on the door frame, looking at him worryingly. Her eyes were narrowed due to the light of the day, her hair was messy and she walked outside the house barefooted.

"What happened?"

"He fucking left me!" He snapped. "How could he?"

"Who?"

"Sunfyre!" He spoke with an obvious tone, "Don't you see how a large dragon is not in your front yard anymore?"

"I can see that, yes." She nodded calmly, "But perhaps he will come back later, perhaps he got hungry again and went to find something to eat."

"Perhaps that traitor left me!" He said in despair, "How am I supposed to fly to Pentos now? My family will find me here!" He walked closer to her, "I don't even know where I am!"

"You are in the Summer Islands." She replied, "In the south of Dorne."

"South of Dorne?" He asked scandalized, "What the fuck am I doing in the South of Dorne?!"

"I don't think I could answer that."

"I was supposed to be flying to the east! Why am I here?"

"Do you want some tea?" She kindly offered.

Aegon looked at her as if she was insane, has she not heard what he just said?

“I don’t want tea.” He scoffed, “I want my fucking dragon back!”

“You yell too much.” She pointed out, “Perhaps that’s why your dragon left you.” Aegon frowned, offended. “I’ll be inside making food in case you need anything.”

Aegon covered his face with both of his hands and screamed out of rage. He pulled the grass under his feet and started throwing rocks with his hands. He looked like a small child throwing a tantrum. He was too stressed, even a couple of desperate tears came out of his eyes. He was lost in a place he did not even know, without his dragon and with the company of a girl who is partially scary. He started to regret every life decision that had brought him to that place.

Minutes after, when all of his rage started to dissolve from his body, he got into the house again. The girl has already made some food and she had put it on the table for him to eat, Aegon felt the delicious smell reaching his nose and he almost drool for it. It smelled better than anything he had ever smelled before. Then, he thought that, perhaps, staying there until Sunfyre gets back would not be a bad idea at all.

“I’m mad at you.” She said as soon as Aegon crossed the door. He tensed immediately, thinking she would kick him out.

“Why?”

“You ripped my grass.” She sat on the chair and started to eat. “Do you know how long it took me to make it grow?”

For the first time he saw her frowning, and it was not as if he had known her for her entire life, but seeing her making any other expression besides smiling felt wrong. Almost unnatural, actually.

“I’m sorry…” He muttered shyly, sitting in the chair in front of her. “I was a bit mad.”

“A bit?” She asked teasingly. “You yelled at a bird.”

“Why do you always catch me doing foolish things?”

“Why are you always doing foolish things?” She asked back.

“Apparently because I’m a fool.” He started to eat and he immediately hummed pleasantly with the taste. He almost rolled his eyes back. “Look, I’m going to help you fix your grass.”

“How?”

“Well, I can’t go anywhere without my dragon so I guess I will not have any other choice than to stay here until he decides it’s time to come back.” He shrugged, “If you allow me to, of course.”

Aegon saw how she tried so hard to suppress her smile until she finally let it take over her face. She nodded excitedly; she would finally have some company. She would finally not be alone.

“Of course I allow you!” She said with a giant smile, “Besides, I feel this is partly my fault.”

“How so?”

“Well, if I hadn’t insisted on you staying for the night, you would’ve been in Pentos by now.”

“What is done, is done.” He said, “At least I’m eating delicious food.”

She blushed a little and Aegon smiled; that is how it all started.

The first days were not much fun. Aegon had a hard time trying to entertain himself as the girl did not have any type of liquor; the closest thing to that was vinegar, and he could not stand the smell of it. There were not any other women around either, not other animals or anything besides her, her small cottage and the big woods that were behind her home.

So, as a result, he was forced to have conversations with her. At first, he was trying so hard not to get annoyed by her multiple questions, but then he got used to them and instead of being bothered by them, he started to get really comfortable answering them. He would like the fact that she was always genuinely interested in whatever he had to say, and he would also like the fact that he could speak with her for hours without feeling as if he was a nuisance.

Four days were spent like that, until she asked him for some help with her tasks. One morning they woke up and the sky was gray, covered in raging clouds that were warning about a big storm coming.

“Oh, no.” She had said to him, looking at the clouds with worry in her eyes. Aegon turned to her, looking at her frown. “There’s a hole on the ceiling, and I couldn’t fix it the last time it rained. It was a disaster!”

“I can help you with that.” Aegon offered.

“Can you?” She excitedly said.

Aegon nodded with a slight smile, while on the inside, he was dying from the nerves since he had absolutely no idea on how to fix a hole in the ceiling, he just offered himself out of courtesy and because he wanted to be a good guess for her.

He was completely oblivious with everything, he did not know how to use the tools, and he was too embarrassed to ask so he just improvised everything trying to make it work. But it did not.

When the storm came, the girl had to put vases around the house to prevent the floor from getting wet thanks to the leaks. Even the bed got wet, so that night Aegon had to sleep on the floor, on the other side of the bed. She did not get mad at him for not fixing the problem, instead, she just laughed it off and told him it was alright, that they could fix it in another time.

Aegon felt some inner joy when she said that, for he knew she was thinking of him staying longer; he did not dislike the idea.

A week and a half has passed already. Sunfyre was nowhere to be seen, but Aegon did not mind about it anymore, he felt too comfortable already with her company. Besides, they had just started his cooking lessons.

The girl has offered it to him as a joke, and when Aegon accepted she was as surprised as him. It was not common that a man would want to learn those kinds of things. In return, he would teach her about dragons, and she was so fascinated with the idea that as soon as they sealed the deal, she grabbed her vegetables and started to teach him.

Aegon’s fingers soon were full of tiny cuts, cuts that she would clean and bind up. Chopping vegetables with a knife seemed like a more dangerous activity than using a sword.

When he finally made supper all by himself, he felt so proud that he could not stop smiling. He had prepared the meal while the girl was out searching for fresh vegetables and fruit. It was a surprise; he wanted to make something nice for her. So when she arrived at the house, she saw two small bowls filled with soup.

“Aegon, did you cook all this by yourself?” She had asked him, surprised but also impressed.

“I did.” He answered proudly, while she was sitting on the chair. “I hope it tastes good, I didn’t try it before pouring it in the bowls.”

She smiled softly, a smile that quickly trembled thanks to the flavor of the soup. It was not bad, it just had a strong taste that she could not recognize. She tried so hard to keep a smile on her face because she would rather rip her heart from her chest than to make him feel bad about something, especially when he really strove to make it. She just nodded and hummed, while she kept drinking the soup.

But soon Aegon tried it too, and she spit the soup back on the bowl as soon as it touched his tongue. His disgusted face was too cute for her to ignore, she found herself staring at him more than she should while he was overreacting by drinking large sips of water in order to forget the taste.

“Oh Gods, this is so fucking disgusting.” He muttered, “Stop drinking that.” He had said to her, trying to grab her bowl to toss it, but she took it away from him first. “Don’t drink that, it's disgusting.”

“What are you saying? This is delicious!” She tried to cheer him up. She took a big sip of the soup afterwards, trying so hard not to show a bad face.

“Don’t lie, y/n.” He told her, embarrassed. “Stop drinking it!”

But she drank it all. Aegon was surprised to see the empty bowl, and it was impossible for him not to smile softly at her. She had drunk his disgusting soup only to avoid making him feel bad. That’s when the tickles started.

Another week passed, and Aegon found himself running with a sheep on his shoulders and y/n laughing hysterically by his side, while an old man was following them with a flail. He did not know how he put himself in that situation, but he was enjoying it. Hearing her laughter was enough to make him feel some joy he had never experienced before, it made him feel whole.

When they entered the tiny house, the grumpy neighbor was long forgotten. Aegon dropped the sheep on the floor and sat, trying to catch his breath while the girl was offering him a glass of cold water, which he gladly accepted.

“How do you do that?” He asked breathlessly. She only shrugged and chuckled.

“I guess I’m used to it.” She sat in front of him, “Aegon, the Sheepstealer. It sounds good, does it not?”

Aegon smiled, “It does.”

He killed the sheep, and made a much better meal with it. The practice has made him good, great even. Now he knew he did not need to put too much nutmeg on the food, a pinch was enough.

“I’ve never eaten sheep before.” The girl confessed after finishing her plate. “It’s quite delicious.”

“Why?”

“It’s just that I don’t have the heart to kill them.” She replied, “They look at me with those tiny little eyes, and it is impossible for me to do something to them.”

“What do you do with the sheep you stole?” He asked confused.

“I return them.” She explained, “I cut the wool with my scissors and then I took them back to my neighbor’s herd.” She looked at the plate with a sad haze, “Although this one won’t be coming back any time soon.”

“Wait, you have scissors?” He asked, and she nodded.

Soon, Aegon was sitting on the same chair as before but this time he saw how his platinum hair strands were falling onto his lap. He had asked her to cut his hair after thinking it was getting too long. Her hands brushing his head was a kind of pleasure that he never thought he would experience, it felt so good that he would start humming without even realizing.

His eyes would close and his whole body would relax under her touch. It felt too good that Aegon even thought he was dreaming.

Of course the haircut was a mess, she had never done anything like that before; at least not with humans. But when Aegon saw his hair reflected on a small mirror that was hanging from the wall, he just praised her for her good job, although they both knew it was hideous. He just did not have the heart to tell her that.

The day passed after that and with each day they would get closer and closer. Until one night, when Aegon would not find peace to sleep, for he was starting to feel guilty. Lately at night, he had found himself staring at the girl while she slept on the floor next to the bed, all curled up and hugging the blanket that would cover her from the coldness of the evening. Aegon felt something inside of him that was screaming he was in the wrong for letting her sleep in such a way for too long.

Even though she was peacefully sleeping already, he knew she deserved to be as comfortable as him. After everything she had done for him, he felt the need to give her something back. So he started to wake her up.

“Hey, y/n. Wake up!” He started to shake her body a bit too harshly. “Y/n, wake up!”

The poor girl jumped and woke up scared, looking around, confused and overwhelmed. “What happened?” She said. Her raspy voice made him feel some kind of tinkle in his gut. “My neighbor is here?”

“Hey, y/n.” He whispered, “It’s okay, he’s- he’s not here.”

“What is it then?” She rubbed her eyes and yawned. “Do you need more cushions?”

“No, I’m okay it’s just… uh, I was thinking if you would like to sleep here in the bed.” He offered, surprisingly shy. “I think it could be more comfortable for you.”

“And where would you sleep?”

“We can sleep together if that’s not a problem for you.”

She smiled, pleased. “Look at us.” She said chuckling, “A few weeks ago you wouldn’t tell me about where you were going because I was a stranger and now you are offering me to sleep with you!” She spoke excitedly, “On the morrow we will wake up as best friends!”

Aegon only nodded softly, still wondering about what made her so unique. So special.

She stood up and quickly got under the soft blankets, cuddling with a pillow. Aegon was staring at the ceiling, moving his fingers nervously after feeling her body so close to him. He regretted having his shirt removed as he was scared that his body would react on its own, he was scared of what she might think if he got aroused by her. He did not even know why he was so concerned about it, perhaps it was the very first time that he actually cared of what others would think of him. Of what she might think of him.

To avoid the shame of it, he turned around giving her his back. He then sighed and closed his eyes, preparing himself to sleep now out of guilt, but her voice sounded once again.

“Aegon?” She whispered. Her breath hit his back, causing him a shiver that was quite worrying.

“Yes?” His voice sounded more raspy than usual.

“I know this is ‘best friend’ level, and we aren’t there yet,” Aegon frowned and looked at her over his shoulder. “But I was wondering if I could hug you.”

He was taken aback by her sudden request. He was so shocked that he felt as if she was playing a joke on him. No one has ever asked him to hug him before, less when in bed.

“You want- You want to hug me?”

“Yes…” She nodded, a small smile crossed her lips. “Like this.”

She moved a bit behind him and then he felt her arm going under his and surrounding his naked torso. Aegon felt oddly calm once he sensed her warmth around him. She laid her head on top of the crook of his neck and sighed.

A now-familiar sensation took over his body, making his face feel hotter and his heart beat faster. He did not know why his body started to react in such a way all of the sudden, but it did not feel bad.

“How does it feel?” She asked. “I can move if you are not comfortable-”

“No!” He quickly said, a bit louder than he expected. “It feels nice.”

She smiled, relieved.

“Good night then, Aegon.” She said softly.

“Good night, y/n.”

Aegon fell asleep with a smile on his face for the first time in his life.

The next day, everything went as usual, although he could not take his eyes out of her. With every touch, every word, and every smile he would feel something jumping inside his chest, and he would get clumsy all of the sudden. Even a little shy, when he had no record of being shy before meeting her.

And then, she had the marvelous idea of having lunch outside. Aegon was not a big fan, but he accepted because she wanted to do it; he could not bring himself to say no to her.

He followed her through the woods until they reached a beautiful lagoon in the middle of the trees, the water was turquoise, and you could see the bottom of it because it was so clear. It was a gorgeous place, probably one of the most beautiful places he had ever been.

The meal was cooked by Aegon, who had been constantly improving on his culinary skills. They sat on a cozy blanket —made by her with the wool of his neighbor’s sheep, of course— and they put all the biscuits, pastries, and bread on top of it. She had made orange juice too, which Aegon loved.

“Where do you think Sunfyre is right now?” She asked after a moment of silence.

Aegon shrugged, “I don’t care about that traitor anymore.” He spoke with his mouth full after eating a small lemon cake in just one bite.

“Will you leave after he comes back?” Her voice sounded quite unsure, perhaps because she did not want to hear an answer.

Aegon was taken aback with the question, not sure of what to answer. He has not even thought about his departure yet, seeing it so far and unlikely; he did not wish to leave this place, nor her.

“I don’t know.” He said softly, “I feel rather comfortable in your bed.” He joked, and she chuckled. “You’re an amazing hugger. If I leave now, I’m going to miss you at night.”

He said those words as if he was joking, but he knew deep inside of him that he was only speaking the truth.

“Hugger?” She asked confused.

“Your hugs,” He explained, “They’re incredible.”

“Well, thank you very much.” She blushed, and she tried to hide his face from him. Aegon looked at her mesmerized.

Once he woke up from his trance, he realized he had been staring at her for too long, and even when she did not seem to mind, he felt some embarrassment in his action. So he tried to take her attention to something else. Something that was not him and his rosy cheeks.

“Is the water good for a swim?” He asked, the girl nodded excitedly, “Shall we swim?”

The girl stood up immediately, and soon she started to get rid of her dress. Aegon’s eyes widened with panic as he had not considered that important detail; she would wet her dress to swim, so she was getting naked.

She did it without any shame of her body, and he knew it was because she did not find anything sinful in nudity, but Aegon did, and he got scared; mostly because he was scared of his own body, on how it would react by having her so close to him with nothing on. But when she finally got rid of her clothing, and his eyes found her, he felt his heart stop for a second.

He was waiting for his body to react differently, to have some reaction towards her naked body as he usually did; he expected to feel some tickle on his gut as a sign of lust, but it was nothing like it. Aegon saw her as if she had put a spell on him, his eyes could not stop staring at her curves, her bare skin, her hair being blown with the air. It was a bewitching scene that made Aegon’s whole body go numb. He even felt his eyes getting a bit watery, for they were glistening for the sight. And when she turned to face him and smiled so softly at him, he knew. He felt it.

Oh, no, Aegon thought, I’m falling in love.

Of course she invited him to join in, and he did. The butterflies on his stomach were getting more notorious with every step he took. Soon, he found himself playing with her, throwing water and laughing as a little child. It did not matter anymore that they were naked, he did not feel the need to make it into something lustful. He just enjoyed the moment with her, for he has never felt this way before; so filled with joy and genuinely happy.

He even wished for Sunfyre to never come back so he would never have an excuse to leave. But he had never been the possessor of such good luck.

The next morning a roar woke them up, they were sleeping cuddling each other and they both sat on the bed exalted for the sudden noise. Aegon was the first one standing up, grabbing his sword and coming out of the house. Soon, y/n followed him, positioning herself behind him. The girl stopped in awe, looking at the giant dragon in front of her with wonder.

“Fuck.” Aegon mumbled, loud enough to wake the girl out of her trance and looking at the man walking towards them.

“Who’s that?” She asked curiously.

Aegon sighed,

“My brother.” He replied reluctantly.

“He is handsome.” She said.

Aegon frowned, looking at her with a disgusted look on his face. “No, he’s not.”

As the man was getting closer, Aegon positioned himself in front of the girl, as if he was trying to protect her from him. Aemond stood in front of both of them, he looked serious and intimidating. The girl had to look up to him because he was at least one head taller than her.

“So this is where you were hiding.” He said when he was close enough for them to hear him. “It’s nice.”

“Thank you!” The girl rushed to respond.

“Who is this beautiful lady?” Aemond asked, the girl blushed with the compliment.

Aegon’s jaw clenched. “It is not of your interest.”

“I’m y/n.” She cheerfully said.

“Such a pleasure to meet you, Lady y/n.” He grabbed her hand and left a soft kiss in it. The girl giggled, a bit embarrassed.

“Oh, I'm no Lady.” She shyly smiled, “You have a beautiful dragon.”

“Thank you, love.” He smirked slightly.

“How did you find me?” Aegon asked, clearly annoyed.

“Sunfyre was seen flying around Dorne a few days ago,” He explained, “I found him and he guided me here.”

Aegon looked beside Vhagar and his dragon was laying there, chewing what seemed to be a calcined animal. Once again, he cursed the Gods by how inconvenient his arrival was.

“And what do you want?”

“Father is dead.” He said suddenly.

“What?” He muttered incredulously.

“Mother sent me to look for you.” Aemond explained.

“But- I don’t want to leave.”

“You must.” The younger one spoke firmly, “You will be crowned as King on the morrow.”

“King?” The soft voice of the girl was heard.

Aemond saw her with a lifted eyebrow, a bit surprised about her reaction until he finally put the strings together.

“She doesn't know, does she?”

“Know what, Aegon?” She asked him.

Aegon went silent, and he begged his brother with his eyes to not say anything, to keep it as a secret. But Aemond did not granted him with that, instead he looked at the girl with curious eyes and explained,

“Aegon is Prince of the Seven Kingdoms.” His voice sounded softly, as he was not trying to hurt her. “He is the heir of the Throne in Westeros.”

The girl frowned, and Aegon looked down at the green grass being unable to see her face after the truth was out. She took a step forward and touched his shoulder with care, only then Aegon was strong enough to look at her eyes; she was not mad or hurt, she just seemed confused.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I never saw the right time, I- I’m sorry, y/n.”

She excused herself and got into her home. Aegon covered his face with his hands, frustrated and mad at his brother, furious actually. He wanted to punch him in the face, but he knew that if he did it he would get into a fight that he would not win.

“You have been living in her home for a month and you never tell her about who you are?”

“It didn’t seem relevant!” He yelled, stressed, “Fuck!”

“Aegon, I must take you to mother and-”

“Shut up.” He interrupted him before starting to walk inside the house.

The girl was standing in the kitchen, cutting some oranges in half to then squeeze them and make orange juice. Aegon cleared his throat to make himself seen, and she turned to look at him. Her eyes were a bit teary and Aegon’s heart nearly broke.

“Can we talk?”

“You are a Prince.” She affirmed, and he nodded. “Is that why you were escaping from your family? Because you don’t want to be king?”

“I’ve never wanted it.” He confessed, “I’m not made to rule. I couldn’t even command my dragon when he brought me here.” He joked, and that made her smile. “I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you.”

“I understand why you did it.” A couple unexpected tears fell down her cheeks and she quickly brushed them off to laugh afterwards, “I don’t even know why I am crying-”

“It’s okay,” He said softly, and he cupped her face with his hands. A delicate touch that made her legs shiver. “I’m going to tell him to leave.” She frowned, “I’m going to stay here with you. And we can- we can be happy together, right?”

Her haze softened, Aegon looked at her lips and the sudden urge to kiss her invaded his whole body. Soon his thoughts were interrupted by her sweet voice,

“But you have to leave.” She whispered, “You have a family, you belong with them.”

“You are my family now, y/n. I belong here, with you!” He sighed.

“You need to leave…” She repeated, “Your brother, he is quite intimidating, I can’t fight with him over you.”

Aegon giggled.

“He would win without a doubt.” He added.

“I know. I would just embarrass myself.”

They both laughed lightly, with tears in their eyes. Trying so hard to ignore the pain on their chest.

“Listen-”

“No, you listen.” She interrupted him, “I think- I think it is better that you go with your brother- what’s his name?”

“Aemond.” She chuckled, “What?”

“Sounds like ‘almond’.”

Aegon smiled, “Yes, it does.”

She cleared her throat and wiped one rebel tear that left her eyes, she put her hands on top of his and sighed.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Aegon.” He frowned, “I don’t think I’ll ever forget you.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone.” He confessed.

“I won’t be alone… I can try and be friends with my neighbor.”

“Come with me.” He begged.

“Aegon, I can’t. I don’t belong there… but you do.”

“I’ll miss you terribly.” His voice sounded weak.

“You can come and visit whenever you want.” She tried to cheer him up.

“It won’t be enough.”

“We’ll make it enough.”

He hugged her tightly, burying his head on the crook of her neck trying to carve her scent in his memories, trying to force his body to remember her warmth around him for eternity. Her hands reached his hair and stroked it softly before leaning back.

“Oh! Before you go.” She quickly went to her bed and picked up one of her cushions, she then lent it to Aegon who received it with a smile. “So you can remember me.”

“Bold of you to assume I would ever forget you.”

The presence of Aemond interrupted their moment and the older brother rolled his eyes.

“We must leave now, brother.” Aemond said.

“You must leave now, brother.” She said in a whisper, imitating Aemond’s serious voice and making Aegon laugh loudly.

“Don’t let him hear you.” He warned her, “He would hate you if you mock him, he’s quite serious.”

She only nodded, trying to repress a smile while Aegon’s eyes scanned all of her face, trying to memorize every single part of it. He did not know when he would see you again.

“Y/n…” He called her.

“Yes?”

He took a deep breath, “I- I love-” He stopped himself before he could finish, and then he suddenly changed his words. “I really loved your house.”

Her smile trembled, a bit disappointed. “You can come back whenever you want. My door will alway be open for you.”

“Aegon!” Aemond insisted.

“Go now.” She said, “We’ll meet again, I promise.”

Aeon nodded, and after looking at her a little longer, he left a quick kiss on her forehead. Then, he left the house.

She saw from her door frame how Aegon started yelling at his dragon; she could only smile with tenderness after seeing him being mad at him again. She saw him riding his dragon and flying away.

The girl closed her door and layed in bed putting his nose against the pillows. They still smelled like him.

Two days later, she was in the kitchen preparing something for supper. It was late at night, she could hear the sound of the crickets outside, everything was so quiet and peaceful. Until a growl was heard in her front yard.

She left the knife and the celery aside in order to open her door and look outside; a huge smile on her face and butterflies in her stomach appeared when she saw the golden dragon outside her house. It was Aegon.

He got out of his saddle and quickly reached the grass. He walked fast towards the girl who was just too excited to see him.

“Aegon, you’re back so soon?”

He did not answer her, instead, he pressed his lips against hers. She gladly followed the kiss, bringing her hands to his soft hair. Aegon held her close by grabbing her waist and pulling her onto his body. The kiss was soft, slow, filled with tenderness and love; Aegon sighed in between, feeling in heaven with just the touch of her lips.

When he leaned back, his eyes were glistening, his breathing was fastened, and his heart was jumping inside his chest out of excitement. The girl in front of him laughed, and Aegon closed his eyes; two days were enough for him to crave for that sweet laughter.

“I love you, y/n.” He confessed, making her melt. “I left everything behind, so you better get used to my presence because I’m not leaving you any time soon.”

“What about the throne?” She asked, a bit overwhelmed with all the situation.

“I made a convenient deal with Aemond.” He explained. “He only accepted it because he liked you.”

She smiled, “I love you too, Aegon.”

He kissed her again, this time it was more passionately, but still had those sweet touches of tenderness that he loved so dearly. Her lips were soft, so perfect and made for him. Being there with her, kissing her and touching her body felt just right. As if it has always meant to be.

The girl leaned back and looked at him with a subtle smile, “We’ll need to steal a sheep.”

Aegon chuckled, “What for?”

“We will need a bigger bed.”

724 notes · View notes

rainbowdaisy13 · 9 days

Text

A Poem for Taylor from the Ghosts

And now I lay me down to sleep

48 hours of diving into the deep

depths of a mind that is riddled with pain

and used to the question of “are you insane?”

Taylor my dear, you rise like a Beast

and begin to reclaim your once stolen feast

For those that can SEE you we have and we will

remain ever loyal as you tackle this hill

You gave us the reasons sharp as a knife

and it’s obvious now she’s the love of your life

We see you We hear you We send love through the screens

As we raise a toast up to the Mastermind Queens

We talk and we type and we feel feelings too

but it’s evident now this is just about You

Your story to keep or to hide or to share

but it seems like youre ready to accept the dare

No matter the timing or shape of the sky

we’ll wait with a wink in the crink of an eye

For your true redemption, the siege of the Throne

Know if you need us just glance at your phone

🤍

~RainbowDaisy13 and all my Tumblr Homies

114 notes · View notes

enbyobeyme · 1 year

Text

MC Becomes A Child But Angst

Prompt: Mc becomes a child again, but they did not have a good childhood to begin with...

AN: This is also an old work of mine that I'm reposting before I delete my old blog, may be a bit dated. I may rewrite this. Takes place in OG game

TWs: Mentions of Child Abuse, Scars, ect. GN per usual. Cringe writing

Vague Edgy Intro For Background.

You remember it since you were young. The live vivisections performed on you, the practice of fusing angels and demons to create your “God”. You were sadly the perfect catalyst for their experiments.

You have seen horrors beyond comprehension, atrocities that show the worst side of man, the lowest point that mortals could hit. Cults were draining. Worship after worship, recruitment after recruitment, experiment after experiment. You had demon and angel prisoners that you befriended in the cult before they were dragged away and eventually killed or turned into some beast...

You grew sick of it- that’s why you ran. How you managed to fight off or completely avoid the Silent Hill-esque monsters but... You did. From that day on you hid any marks, stitches, scars, or tattoos on your body were hidden. You did everything to hide your past, getting rid of any tracker on you, even trying to drain yourself of any demon or angel blood they injected you with.

You weren’t going to be turned into any ‘God” any time soon. To think, that poor angel Lilith had her grave robbed for the blood that now runs through your veins… Despicable.

I can’t imagine how your MC felt to have been summoned by demons? There was at least some level of fear or anxiety, no? Either way, let’s skip past that. You don’t know how, but some type of spell has been cast onto you, turning you into a kid. The same fragile kid from all those years ago. It wasn’t as happy as the brothers hoped for.

Lucifer

Your eyes were dull as you sat in the corner, you didn’t look at anything but the floor like you were waiting for instructions. Your body shivered and you looked so broken. “MC? Are you okay?” No response, not even a glance at him. It was unnerving, to say the least.

He was by your side in an instant once he heard the news. The way you backed away from him warily though didn’t throw him off, at first, he was a stranger to you after all. It wasn’t until he got back to his office to work while looking after you.

You seemed to have something in your hands that you hid even more as he approached. You looked over at him miserably and started to shake more. You never talked much about any parents or any childhood memories- you often skipped over conversions where Asmodeus badgered you for pictures of your young self. Is this why?

His heart hurts a bit as he puts the pieces together. He notices your grip on whatever is in your hands, loosening, he leans in trying to see what it is. Lucifer is taken aback when you hold out a small rusted knife towards him, it was blunt and old, and shaking in your grip.

“P-Please, get away from me, You’re going to hurt me too! They’re going to hurt you!” Lucifer kneeled down showing his hands to you before offering one to you. “I’m not going to hurt you, please come with me…” You shook, eventually putting the blade away. Lucifer reached out slowly to cup your cheek.

You were soon on his lap as he worked. He noticed that you looked over at the stack of papers, grabbing the sheet he was finished with you added it to the right pile. “How do you know to do paperwork?” “I had to earn food by helping out with chores.” He frowned at that.

”Your parents made you work?” “I don’t think I have parents. The leaders said they made me. It all clicked at that moment. “You were- you are in a cult?” You nodded, going back to organizing papers. It was silent for a moment. “You’re a nice demon. I hope they don’t hurt you too.” “Oh? What do you mean?” “A lot of demons or angels that get summoned get hurt. Sometimes, they’re dissected, and I have to help.” Lucifer couldn’t help but hold you a bit tighter. He felt awful for what you were implying.

He tried to ask you directly about the cult, but all he got were soft ‘sorry I can’t tell you that, I’ll get hurt’s’ in response. Dinner soon came, you refused to go out to the table without panicking, and trying to pull away from Lucifer if he tried to walk you there, so he brought food to you. Your eyes lit up as if you couldn’t believe that you were allowed food, you wolfed it down before anyone can take it from you. Afterward, he was able to walk you to your room to rest. “Wait, Mr. Lucifer, before you go” Lucifer looked back as your small child self waddles up to him to hug him. “Thank you, I don’t want you to leave me alone again.” He offered to sleep with you, you nodded profusely.

In the morning, you were grown again. Lucifer asked if you remembered anything from your kid self. You were silent before nodding. “Don’t mention any of it, to anyone. I’ve already dealt with and accepted it.” Lucifer nodded. This will be your little secret.

Mammon

When he heard Solomon shout in surprise during your magic practice, he knew something was up because that bitch never made noise. When he entered the room he saw a small child pointing a blade at the sorcerer. “Where’s MC?! Are they okay?!” “That IS MC. They messed up the spell and got turned into a kid”

You backed up, pointing the blade in front of you, “H-how do you know me.” It came out more like a statement than a question. You overheard the white-haired man, ‘Solomon’ Excuse himself along the lines of ‘Oops, I have to be somewhere’ for some reason this felt familiar. And that is how you got stuck with Mammon.

It took him a bit to convince you to put down the boxcutter, and you only did because you can sense the dumbassery off this guy and you could read him like a book, it would be able to tell when he would want to hurt you. You hid the boxcutter.

Mammon seemed to be on the phone with someone named ‘Lucifer’ you kept your distance. You heard all kinds of stories about the Seven Deadly. For someone in the cult to be named after them, or for a poor demon that was summoned and called by the sin they were strongly associated with was someone important. Important people tended to be the cruelest.

Mammon didn’t know what to do with a kid. Kids like the outdoors, right? Maybe he can get you some icecream? He noticed immediately that you dragged behind even as he offered you ice cream. You were a strange kid for sure.

At the ice cream store you just looked down. “Don’t you want anything?” you shook your head, it’s a trick, a trap, no one would be this kind to you. Mammon could tell something was up, you seemed so scared and hollow, just looking down at the ground. Mammon put a hand on your shoulder, causing you to shrink away. Sometimes he would’ve done the same when he knows he pissed off Lucifer. Were you okay?

“Hey,” his voice was gentle, “it’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you, come on, I got a coupon for a free ice cream anyway!” He didn’t but it might make you feel better. You felt like you had no choice, and zone out, when you zoned back in, there was an ice cream cone dripping onto your hand as you walked through the Devildom. A rare sweet treat that might be taken from you, you quickly lick it up, not knowing when an opportunity for food will present itself to you.

Mammon seemed nice, he talked to you and he even let you go up to an actual playground. You weren’t used to seeing a lot of kids together, especially so happy. It took a bit of Mammon coaxing you into trying to go down the slide. It was… fun. You asked Mammon to play with you.

After what seemed like an hour you both went home, for the first time in a while, you smiled. You were in Mammon’s room looking at all the shiny things in his room. “Thank you, Mammon,” you seemed to speak at a high level than other kids your age, Mammon noted, “I’m not really allowed to go outside.” Mammon frowned and asked, “Why not?” “The robed guys said people might see my marks and get me in trouble. And there was a big forest with all types of monsters.”

Robed guys, monsters? “Err, uhh. What kind of mark?” “Do you promise not to tell anyone?” “I promise.” You slowly pulled up a small part on the side of your shirt, exposing a long surgery scar going up your stomach, and a brand of sorts next to it. Mammon was taken aback. He pulled you close and examines you, on your chest were even more scars, some more brands it seemed like. You freaked out at him grabbing you and started kicking and crying. “Let me go! Let me go”

The box cutter from earlier came out of your pocket, into your hand, Mammon narrowly avoided it, catching your arm. “Woah woah woah! Chill, kid!” You dropped the box cutter and Mammon pulled you in for a hug. You were unfamiliar with it, but it felt nice.

You ended up falling asleep on Mammon. He wanted you to change back ASAP. There was a lot of things he wanted to ask you.

Leviathan

When you were transformed into a child, you just saw a white-haired man around a bunch of magic things and weird sigils. He looks like he was wearing a robe too, bad news. You looked around for something, anything that could help defend you, you usually always had a pocket knife on you and you felt in your pocket. Grabbing it, you knew it would a bad thing to fight, so you ran.

This house was big and had a lot of hiding spots, you ran up the stairs, knife in hand, sneaking around. Where was there to hide, you heard music from one place, chatting from the next, you saw an open door, peeking in, there appeared to be no one, it was definitely someone’s room though. Covered in strange aquariums and many odd… mini statues everywhere.

It was at least something to work with though, lots of things were in here. You closed and locked the door, barricading it with everything you could. There had to be something in here that’s useful, a key, a weapon, even some vents that may lead outside. Maybe the aquarium leads somewhere you can swim to. You began your search.

You opened every possible thing you can open, there had to be something, anything to help you, knocking over statue after statue, book after book. All you found were sewing needles and thread. You pocketed them, good for stitches. Soon you heard knocking at the door and some ramming into it. “What the hell?! Who locked my door. MAMMON YOU BETTER NOT BE IN THERE I’LL KILL YOU!”

Oh no. Oh no. No, nononono. You had a small pocket knife and NEEDLES. That wouldn’t be enough for a fight. Maybe you can hide in the pile of soft human-shaped pillows and sneak attack him? There was nowhere else to hide, you dived in. The door broke open, you held your breath and gazed at the intruder through the plushes. A demon. You know a demon when you see one. You hope he doesn’t recognize your smell. “Mammon! Where are you?! Ugh, you trashed my room! I KNOW you’re in here!”

You started to run out of breath, and let out the smallest exhale. A normal human could not have heard, but a demon could. “Found you.” Levi started to sift through the plushies. Now or never, the door was still open. You leaped out trying to make it towards the door. You were too slow, Levi leaped forward, shutting the door. You kicked at his ankle pointing your knife to him. “Leave me alone! Get away, demon! I’ll hurt you!” Your voice was raspy and you started to sob, swinging at Levi.

The commotion was heard by the other brothers, already informed about what happened by Solomon, the door opened, which squished you between the wall. Levi picked you up like an aggressive cat as you continued to kick and scream. “I-if you hurt me, the cult would never forgive you! They’ll hurt you too! Just put me down and I’ll leave you alone. Please!!!” You were handed to Satan, who actually understood how to console a child from his reading habits.

They were discussing something, you didn’t care. They were all outside Levi’s room. You couldn’t run anywhere but there. You bit Satan’s hand, making him drop you, as you book it back into the pile of plushies. Hidden once more, you can only hope they would leave alone. They did, kind of. Maybe they were waiting for you to come back out? It was hard to tell. You were hungry. Maybe there were some crunchy bugs in here- or maybe that tank had something in it. A goldfish. It was something.

Right as you came out of the plushie pile, Levi came back in. You ran back in and shook. “I don’t taste good! Leave me alone!!” Levi would have laughed if you didn’t sound so terrified and he couldn’t hear your stomach rumble. Levi crept in. This was his room after all. He searched around his shelves for something. “Hey, are you hungry, I have some Ruri-Chan crackers. Come on out.”

Nothing. They were sealed, sealed food was usually safe, you stuck out your hand, expecting him to toss it. You let out a noise of displeasure as he approached. He froze. Levi isn’t good with kids. He placed the pack down near the pile. He was too tired for this, he just wanted to play his Waifu games…

You grabbed the crackers pulling them into the pile and started to feast as Levi gamed. Levi hated the silence with you eating. Usually, you both would talk as you game, this felt wrong that he was ignoring you. Occasionally, as he played, he would talk to you. “This character kinda sucks, their DPS output is trash but they look so cute.”

After a while, you snuck out of the pile, slowly approaching him, and sitting next to him to watch the pretty colors on screen. Levi noticed and handed over a controller. “Want to play?” You hesitantly took it, as he told you what to do. You spent most night playing games until you passed out. In the morning, you didn’t mention anything from the day before. Shushing the demon if he mentioned anything.

Satan

He felt a spell fail. He knows that was never a good thing. He should check on you, you are always dragged into these things. He wasn’t expecting to see a mini-you having a standoff, boxcutter in hand with Solomon who’s clothing seemed to be ripped up from where you tried to protect yourself. You looked so serious.

“What the fuck is going on?” Solomon explained. Great, a de-aging spell. He would have to figure this out. Satan sighed and told Solomon to leave. You never talked about being a kid, sometimes excusing it when anything about it was brought up. As you saw the sorcerer leave and the demon try and calm you down, you pieced it together that he won’t hurt you. For now.

That’s how you ended up in his room surrounded by books. You backed up in the corner keeping your eyes on Satan as he tore up his bookshelves looking for something to reverse this. You watched from afar.

You decided to look around his stuff yourself. Lots of weird demon shit to start with. Most you recognized. You picked up an old tome with a seal that you’ve seen a million times, instinctually, you broke the seal and opened it. Usually, these tomes have something of importance in it. “Don’t touch that!” You dropped it immediately and cowered, expecting to be hit.

Satan froze seeing you cover your head, guilt rising. He noticed that the tome no longer had that damned seal he couldn’t break. How did you…? Satan rested a hand on your shoulder. “I’m not mad at you, MC, I was scared.” You didn’t seem convinced and just looked away.

Satan decided to change the subject. “How did you break the seal on this, hmm?” “I… I know that book.” “You know the book?” “Yeah, the leaders always put those seals on their tomes to protect what’s inside. Only other cultists can open it…” Satan took a glance inside, it mainly detailed a lot of illustrations and descriptions of demons, angels, captives… surgeries… ungodly experiments…

So you grew up in a cult? It must have been awful. Satan tries to change the subject for your sake, you must not want to talk about it. He lit a small, harmless flame in the shape of a small kitty and watched your eyes lit up. “Hey, want to help me out with some magic?” You nodded, shyly.

You were now in his lap, both drawing kittens and look at small photobooks of cats while he also read book after book, looking for some type of spell to reverse it. He glanced over to your drawings as they started to lean into darker territory. Drawings of cats turned into sacrifices of animals. The number 777 was drawn everywhere.

t was the same number as the mark on the back of your neck-wait. Mark on the back of your neck… He glanced at your neck, gently brushing your hair back to show the mark. 777. Huh… He looked back at the spellbook. Finally, a spell to reverse this shit.

A few minutes later, you were back. You and Satan stared at each other, no words were spoken as you went to go grab that damned book from the shelf. You sat next to Satan and skimmed through it, photo after photo, article after article. You see a good chunk of the book titled “The Experiment of Subject 777”

You tore out that chunk, ripping it up and throwing it in the fireplace, handing the rest of the book back to Satan. ”Burn it. Read it. I don’t care…”

Asmodeus

Asmodeus was thrown aback when Solomon called him, telling him what just happened. He zoned out at “Mc is now a baby!” and he was excited to see how cute you looked. He heard something along the lines of you’ll change back in a few hours.

Asmo didn’t care, he snagged you, cradled you, and carried you off into his room. He didn’t even realize the state you were in, afraid and once again covered in the old scars on your body from your childhood returned. He went off to his room putting you down and immediately going to the closet all while saying how much fun the two of you would have.

The smile dropped when he turned around and saw a poor broken child covered in scars of all kinds, surgery scars across the chest, what seemed like self-harm ones on your legs, and that doesn’t even mention the bruises. He remembered asking if you had any pictures from when you were a kid and how uncomfortable you seemed. He can recognize abuse easily.

“Oh, sweetie…” The demon invited you into his arms hugging you and rubbing your back. For some reason the kindness in his voice made you cry. You held onto him as he pats you back. “Come on sweetie, let it all out…”

After what seemed like forever, you had no more tears to cry. Asmodeus knew what could make you feel better. He started to get out some self-care stuff. Showed you facemasks, lip masks, lotions, creams.

He even got out some cucumbers to put over your eyes. You were completely spoiled. It was nice to actually be cared about. After a bit of coaxing, Asmodeus asked to see some of the scars on your body, there is a possibility that you could be injured.

Asmo felt sick. Surgery scars across your chest and stomach, brands across your back and collarbones. It was sickening how someone could do this to a child. Asmo has connections. He recognized the brands all across your body from the cult you were in.

He has seen their members raid the parties he was in, how they walked off with a bunch of intoxicated demons, or snag them using hooks into their wings and forcing them away. He’s heard of the torture demons had endured. Blood experiments. Fusion. The creation of a ‘god’. You were forced to be in there huh?

Asmodeus know that it is not a topic you would want to talk about. He decided that instead, you both should keep your mind off of it. Maybe a few hours of body-positive selfies and watching drama shows and doing makeup will keep your mind off of it.

Beelzebub + Belphegor

Belphegor was asleep as you and Solomon performed spells. He was woken up by a scream followed by crying. Anyway long story short, he ended telling Solomon to fuck off while pulling you away from him. He was too tired to try and ask how to undo the speel so he just went over to his twin’s shared room.

Beel saw a tiny child you and his eyes lit up at the sight of a child. It disappeared quickly when you fucking sucker-punched Belphie and gave him a swift kick into his gut. “Damn demon, get away from me. What are you doing?! Are you trying to die?!”

Belphie dropped you and you already prepared to fight, your body was telling you to scream- run away, get out. You stood your ground. You glared at them. The demons were both shocked. Beel approached you, grabbing you in one swift motion. You squirmed and thrashed. Nothing.

Beel saw the hatred in your eyes along with the hurt. Beel also noticed the brands across your body, he dropped you out of shock, before he caught you again. “Belphegor… Look” Belphegor had never seen his twin look so sad. He went over and looked at what Beelzebub was pointing at. A large cult brand covered your body.

That cult was linked to various disappearances around the Devildom. It has been around for ages as well. He had seen firsthand what they could do- hell Belphegor remembers how they tried to kidnap him when he was an angel. An angel.

Beel remembered the meeting with Diavolo discussing the disappearances and even massacres of their fellow demons. Seeing how they branded a child at such a young age. His stomach churned at the idea of your childhood.

They were snapped out of their thoughts when you smacked your head back into Beels, making him drop you on the floor. You pushed yourself under one of the beds, away from the twins. They couldn’t squeeze their whole body under here and their arms would never reach.

Belphegor lied down and kept trying to reach for you with an ‘ugh, come here brat’. You kept away. At some point, you fell asleep from all the adrenaline leaving your body. You woke up a bit later in someone’s arms. You overhead a conversation with another person.

“This spell should wear off soon, I’ll watch over-” “No, I got them.” Your eyes fluttered open and were met with the below view of Beel’s chin. He held you protectively and walked back to his room alongside Belphegor. Belphegor made eye contact with you.

“Hi…” “...Hey. Gonna kick me again, little-” “Belphie. Leave them alone.” Belphie scowled as Beel set you down on his twin’s bed. You sat up and shyed away. “...Thank you… for not hurting me.” Beel frowned and the overwhelming urge to crush you in a hug overwhelmed him, but he knew it would scare you.

Beel sat beside you, offering a snack, on your other side, Belphegor lied down and turned on the TV. You got to watch some DemonTV. As time went off your belly was full and Belphegor was a comfortable pillow for you. You all fell asleep in a sandwich.

When you woke up, you were back to normal, no more brands, no more scars. The twins looked over at you, you can tell that they pitied you to an extent. You know that they’re worried about you too. “No, I don’t want to talk about it.”

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