magmagicstyle

[magmagicstyle]

Hey! Can you help me win a writing contest? Pretty Please 🥺❤️

Hi! I would appreciate it a lot if you liked my work and shared it to help me win hahaha

You only have to enter the link and leave a like (if you want to comment or share it so other people leave likes, it would help me a lot)

Disclaimer: This doesn't mean that what Voldemort did was right. I'm just trying to portray how he could pretend to justify it if he had a heart. (Please don't send me hate, I'm just trying to win a contest... ❤️)

TRANSLATION:

VOLDEMORT: “For the Common Good” - The Effects of Child Abuse

The night was gloomy and the fog felt too heavy, almost suffocating, but Voldemort, amid the darkness, did not blink. He stood alone, having had his followers leave after what everyone would consider a triumphant return. There, standing in the middle of the graveyard, surrounded by silent gravestones that had seen better days, his mind was racing a thousand miles an hour. He was breathing, aware of every breath his lungs took, of every part of his regenerated body that seemed to adapt to his new physical form. The scent of damp earth and raw magic hung in the air, but his mind was far away.

“They don't understand.”

The thought came suddenly, heavy as a stone crashing against a glass house. No one understood him, not the people who remained indifferent, not the people who were against him, not his own followers. He, along with a few others who had also been silenced in the past, had seen what others did not want to accept: the fragility of the peace that the magical world had.

Wizards, though powerful, were always outnumbered by Muggles, especially in recent years. And Muggles, with their ignorance, their fear and their horrible ability to create weapons of destruction and devastation that were beyond the imagination of innocent wizards, were capable of any monstrosity in the name of the common good… The common good… It was funny how the people who had hurt him the most were the ones who used that excuse for their actions. The horror, the pain… Wizards lived in a bubble to the point where they didn't understand what Muggles could do. Only Voldemort and a few others could understand, and that was because they had lived it.

Ever since he was a small boy, he had felt the contempt of the Muggles in every look he received at the orphanage where he had been abandoned. Having a keen mind and always hungry for knowledge, he had read about the persecutions, the burnings, the lynchings, the horrible tortures that Muggles had provoked in favor of their ideals and following banal excuses such as religion and politics. From a very young age he had seen in the eyes of Muggles that spark of hatred that caused fires greater than any spell.

“Wizards are superior.”

It was a fact as plain as the blood that coursed through the veins of every living thing. It was not an arrogant phrase or an idea to justify discriminating against other people like Muggle politicians had used so many times in the past. No. Wizards were superior by the fact that at an evolutionary level they had abilities that could lead them to be considered superior in comparison to Muggles. After all, wizards, unlike Muggles, had the ability to cast spells that prevented them from relying on tools that Muggles had created to compensate for their shortcomings. But despite the logic behind this thinking, the world refused to acknowledge this, saying that thinking about the superiority of wizards was just a form of discrimination against Muggles. It was horrible how deep this feeling had gone. For, because of this, nowadays, even among wizards, there were those who bowed to Muggles, who sought to mingle among them, ashamed of their origins. Were they so deluded that they could not see the danger this posed?

Voldemort closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath to calm his anger and despair. In the back of his mind, he knew that one of his motivations was the fear of what might happen if Muggles decided to turn their weapons against wizards. They were brutally crafted tools of destruction that promised only extermination of entire races. If from the time they were children, they expressed hatred against other people and were not punished for their cruelty, what could be expected from adults? If Voldemort did nothing, if he did not take action, it was possible that all wizards, at some point, would suffer what he suffered in his childhood.

“If they can't respect me, they had better fear me…”

For fear, though most did not understand it this way, was a weapon that promised protection against the enemy. If your enemy was afraid of you, if they feared the consequences that your anger might bring, then, they would think twice before trying to do something that might anger you. That was why, if Muggles truly learned what wizards could do, they would not dare rise up against them, now or in the future. If they knew that a single wizard could wipe out their armies, their governments, their countries, their lives… perhaps, then… they would learn to stay in a place where they would not pose a danger to wizarding existence.

Although Dumbledore was desperate to convey this message to the other wizards, Voldemort was not really seeking power just for the sake of having power. He was seeking control… Control to ensure that no one else would feel the contempt and pain he had felt since he was a small boy. Control, to prevent any wizard from ever again ducking his head in front of a Muggle due to fear of the consequences.

“It's not cruelty, it's survival and being able to live peacefully…”

The thought was a way of trying to convince himself of his actions. Of course, that he couldn't deny that a part of him, deep down, was seeking justice and a little revenge. He was seeking to vindicate the wounds they had caused in his past, and also, with this, to make sure that no one could forget him, that no one could ever leave him again.

Taking a deep breath, feeling the air filling his new lungs, he opened his eyes and looked at the grave in front of him. The angel of death staring directly at him, his father's name right in front of his bare feet, almost like a taunt from beyond. The life he had regained was only a means to an end…to a greater good…a common good, as Dumbledore would say. The world was going to understand, or would learn to understand what he had learned during his years watching the cruelty of Muggles. Wizards had to see a way to show others that they were superior and that they were no longer going to bow down to the cruelty of mere Muggles. It didn't matter if they called him a monster, if they were afraid of him.

He would do what was necessary because only he had the vision and the strength to protect wizards from true monsters.

[magmagicstyle]

PATREON EARLY - MY FRIEND

WARNING: You might be sad... maybe... sorry

Caught between heroism and heartbreak, Conner struggles with his unspoken love for Tim. In this, Conner faces a huge dilemma: risk their friendship by confessing his feelings or continue hiding his love for Gotham's vigilante.

This is a Patreon early story. This means it's going to be on Patreon for two weeks before I post it on any other of my social media pages.

[magmagicstyle]

PATREON EXCLUSIVE: I WAS WRONG (C)

The fire crackled softly, its embers casting restless shadows that writhed and flickered on the walls of my study.  The room felt quiet yet unbearably loud with the weight of my thoughts. The warmth from the hearth barely reached me, as if the very room itself recoiled from the cold, unforgiving truths contained within the fragile paper in my trembling hands. This room had once been my haven, but now it seemed like a mausoleum for all the choices I regretted, all the love I had failed to protect. In my hands, I held the letter. Your letter. My mate’s words stared back at me from the aged parchment, each stroke of ink a ghost of a past I could not escape. The years had not dimmed its impact—if anything, time had sharpened the pain.

This is just sad.

Also... Hi.

[magmagicstyle]

Just curious will 'i was wrong' that Carlisle Cullen x Male Reader fic ever be posted to Tumblr or will it remain an exclusive story?

Hi! Woah, it's been a while since I came here...

Also, yes. "I was wrong" (from the Beautiful but Condemned Soul universe) is a Patreon Exclusive story, since it's an extra story.

[magmagicstyle]

EVENT ANNOUNCEMENT ~ 12 Days of Lucemond!!

About 12 Days of Lucemond is a prompt-fill event inspired by the Christmas carol "12 Days of Christmas," with lyrics edited to reflect Lucemond and House of the Dragon themes! There are 12 prompts in total, one for each day. The interpretations don’t need to be literal! For example, the prompt "three dancing dragons" doesn't have to feature three dragons, or dragons fighting (which inspired the prompt). However, the focus should be on "dragon" and "Lucemond", interpreted however you choose. We will include inspirations/ideas for each prompt below! As the event date draws near, the Mod team will confirm certain details and share links to socials. If you have any questions, please respond to this post or send a DM. Participation

⚠️ This is an 18+ event so NSFW/DD content is welcome

🗓️ Date: 1st (Sunday) December - 12th December (Thursday).

🎨 Creations: fanfiction, fanart, moodboards, video edits etc are all welcome!

🤝Sharing: Creators can upload to bluesky, twitter, tumblr, AO3 (a collection will be created). Hashtag #12dayslcmd!

♥️ Many thanks and gratitude to our wonderful event artist.

⚜️ If you want to join the Lucemond Discord, please DM for an invite! (You do not need to join to participate!)

🐧 Prompt interpretation ideas below the line :D

Prompt ideas 1st of Dec: One Valyrian Wedding // wedding, betrothal, bedding ceremony/wedding night, united through marriage. 2nd of Dec: Two bloodied blades // HotD S1 E7 Driftmark, dueling, 'I want you to cut out your eye', revenge, 'sworn in blood' 3rd of Dec: Three dragons dancing // HotD S2, mating hunt, dragon!fic, dragonriding, Vhagar and Arrax. 4th of Dec: Four treasures glittering // Aemond's sapphire eye, Pearl of Driftmark, gift giving, pirates/sailors

5th of Dec: Five falling tears // Hotd S2 'crying Aemond', mourning, tears of happiness, character death, angst.

6th of Dec: Six kin a-battling // Aemond vs Jacaerys, Blacks vs Greens, HotD S1 E8 ‘dinner scene’, dragon-fighting 7th of Dec: Seven lords a-plotting // captive prince trope, small council, ransom, arranged marriage, war plots.

8th of Dec: Eight oaths a-breaking // sworn shield trope, cheating, betrayal, the North, Valyrian blood magic 9th of Dec: Nine nights of longing // unrequited love, long-distance romance, pining, captive AU, Romeo and Juliette AU.

10th Dec: Ten secrets whispered // lies, promises, rumours, POV bias, war propaganda

11th of Dec: Eleven letters written // Luke sends an apology letter, long-distance communication, ransom, bargaining, love letters.

12th of Dec: Twelve ghostly hauntings // Harrenhal, ghosts, curses, guilt, witchcraft, horror themes, Ghostcerys

[magmagicstyle]

To be or not to be... ???

[magmagicstyle]

Hi, i just wanted to say that i spent the entire afternoon reading your stories. I love them! And when i finished, i decided to follow you. How are you? When are you going to update it? 😊 (No pressure) 🤭😅

Hi! That's so sweet of you. Haha

Ehm, well, I'm fine, dealing with some irl stuff (looking for a job, trying to see if it's possible to make a living out of writing... etc) but other than that, I'm okay...

Oh! Also, I'm writing again so... I'm updating things!

Haha, sorry for keeping you all waiting, really.

It's been a crazy couple of months, but... I'll try to keep updating and working on delivering content for you all...

[magmagicstyle]

THE LITTLE GHOST OF HARRENHAL

In the haunting ruins of Harrenhal, Aemond Targaryen is confronted by the ghost of his nephew, Lucerys. But Lucerys offers something far more painful than vengeance—understanding and forgiveness. Ultimately, Aemond is left with only his memories and the phantom touch of the one he lost forever.

Hi, sorry if there are too many grammatical mistakes. Please be kind and remember that English isn't my first language. The IDEA for this one-shot came thanks to the wonderful @violetastridhotd! Thank you. IF YOU WANT TO READ IT ON AO3: here's the link

The ruinous hallways of Harrenhal stood early quiet, a deep and suffocating kind of silence that wrapped itself around the castle like the shadows clinging to its walls. The once-great fortress was a shell of its former self, scarred and broken by time, just as its current occupant felt himself to be. Aemond Targaryen sat near the hearth, staring into the last flickering flames of a fire that had grown cold, much like the rest of him. His long silver hair was loose, falling in wild strands over his shoulders, and his single eye—sapphire gleaming in the dim light—was fixed on the dying embers. The chill of the castle seeped into his bones, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when the true cold had taken residence within his heart, freezing him from the inside out, making him feel like he had died while staying in the world of the living.

Aemond's mind, once sharp and focused on war and conquest, now swam in the murky waters of regret. How long had it been since he had arrived at Harrenhal? Days? Weeks? Time had lost its meaning in this desolate place, where every corner whispered of death, betrayal, and madness. It felt like it had been a long time since he had claimed this haunted keep, yet he found no solace here. No glory. Only cold stone and darker memories, and the voices that haunted Aemond were not those of the thousands of souls who had perished within Harrenhal's walls. No, the voice that haunted him most belonged to the one person he could never escape.

Lucerys.

Aemond's jaw clenched at the thought of his nephew—the nephew he had chased through the storm, the nephew whose life had been cut short by the dragon he had once believed he could control. Vhagar had snapped him out of the sky like a wolf devouring a lamb, and in that single, terrible moment, Aemond's world had changed forever.

Vhagar... the dammed storm...

The image of Lucerys’ terrified face flashed before him, as vivid now as it had been when he last saw him alive when the storm howled and raged at Storm’s End. The boy's brown curls, his wide eyes filled with fear, and the moment everything had spun out of control. The moment Vhagar... no, the moment he had taken Lucerys’ life .

I didn’t mean for it to happen… That was never meant to happen.  

The words echoed in his mind, a futile refrain. But they didn’t matter. Intentions were meaningless now. Regret was meaningless now. It wasn’t like his regret or heartbreak would bring his nephew back to the world of living. It wasn’t like he could have Luke back to hear his laughter, even when it was at his expense. Lucerys Velaryon was dead, and Aemond’s hands were stained with the blood of his kin.

He would never be able to wash it away.

He closed his eye and leaned back in the chair, the flickering light casting harsh shadows across his gaunt features. His body was as exhausted as his soul, but still, sleep would not come. How could it? Every time he closed his eye, he saw it again—the storm, the wind, the look of fear in Lucerys’ wide, innocent eyes. The sickening sound of Arrax's flesh being torn apart and the crunch of bones breaking, Lucerys was so small, so young and he along with his dragon had been torn apart by Aemond's lack of control over Vaghar. The dragon had acted on instinct and no matter how many times Aemond told her not to do anything, it was too late. He can still remember how terrified Lucerys looked...

Luke...  

Aemond would always remember the way the young dragon's flesh and blood fell into the sea as he watched from the sky, knowing it was his fault, that he had ended his nephew's life in that horrible way. That image would follow him forever. That… and the terrible, final silence that followed. 

Aemond remembered how his lips parted at the horrifying sight. There wasn’t much that would make him feel uncomfortable, after all, he was ready to be a warrior, but the view of the dragon falling and the fact that he had killed Lucerys had shaken him. His lips parted, but no sound came for a few seconds. He had no words left for the grief that was hollowing him out piece by piece, even now, in the middle of the night, in the desolated Harrenhal, he didn’t have words to explain the pain that crushed his heart when he thought about his nephew. He had chased the boy through the storm intending to frighten him—maybe even hurt him a bit, just a small revenge from the damage the younger boy had done to his eye so many years ago—but he never intended to kill him. Not his Lucerys.

“Lucerys…” he whispered in the cold of the room, the name breaking like glass on his lips, and for the first time in days, his eye burned with the threat of tears.

Lucerys, Lucerys, Lucerys… My Lucerys… 

A sudden shift in the air made Aemond's breath catch in his throat, his thoughts stopping for a second. The temperature in the room plummeted further, a biting chill that sent a shiver down his spine. He sat up straight, heart pounding, as a faint light seemed to bleed into the edges of the room—a soft, otherworldly glow that he knew should not be there.

Along with the soft gleam that had appeared, the silence of the hall was broken by the faintest of whispers, so soft that Aemond almost thought he had imagined it. But no, there it was again, drifting through the cold air.

"Aemond…"

He froze, his heart hammering in his chest. The voice was achingly familiar—too familiar… And then he saw him.

The ghost of his nephew stood at the entrance to the hall, bathed in the pale light of the afterlife. Lucerys’ face was as gentle and innocent as it had been when Aemond had last seen him—young, with wide brown eyes, a small and kind smile playing on his lips. He looked as he had in life, but with an otherworldly glow that made him seem even more delicate, more fragile.

His small form was dressed in the clothes he had died in, though they were now unmarred by blood or the storm’s water. His hair, dark curls that Aemond had once tugged at in their youth, framed his gentle face. But it was his eyes that held Aemond captive—those same brown eyes that had once looked up at him with fear, now filled with something else entirely.

Forgiveness.

Aemond’s throat tightened, his breath frozen in his lungs. This was not real. It could not be real. But Lucerys—Luke—looked as real as he had the last time Aemond had seen him alive. His lips quirked up into a soft smile, one that made Aemond’s chest ache with a feeling of deep, unbearable sorrow. 

Lovely foolish Lucerys… How can you smile in my direction when I’m the one guilty of your death? 

“Lucerys?” Aemond’s voice cracked, barely a whisper, as though speaking too loudly would cause the boy to vanish like smoke in the wind. Right now, that was his bigger fear, for him to push away the only presence of Lucerys that he was being blessed with, even if this was probably part of his imagination. “Is it… is it truly you?”

The ghost took a step forward, and the soft glow that surrounded him seemed to pulse, like the fading light of the sun as it set on the horizon. “Uncle… Aemond,” Lucerys said, his voice as soft and kind as Aemond remembered from their childhood, before the war, before the hatred. “It’s me.”

Aemond rose to his feet on trembling legs, his body aching under the weight of his grief. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to stay, to bask in Lucerys’ presence, to beg for forgiveness and absolution from this vision… but at the same time, he wanted to run, to flee from this invention from his mind that threatened to break him apart. Still, he found himself rooted in place. As if sensing his hesitation, Lucerys came closer, his small hands hanging loosely at his sides. He got so close that Aemond could see him clearly now—his nephew, the boy he had killed.

“I…” Aemond’s mouth moved, but the words were stuck in his throat. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as he struggled to breathe. This was too painful… Too cruel... “Why are you here?” His voice was a broken rasp. “Why do you haunt me?”

Lucerys tilted his head, his expression softening even further, looking at Aemond with sadness and love. “I don’t haunt you, Aemond. I’m not here to hurt you.”

The words stung, cutting deeper than any accusation ever could. Aemond’s heart twisted painfully in his chest. Why? Why would you not want to hurt me? He could feel the tears threatening to spill over, but he forced them back. No matter how much pain he was feeling, how much he felt that his heart was being pulled out of his chest and how he couldn’t breathe from the sheer pressure that he felt at being in front of Lucerys. He did not deserve to cry. Not for this. Not for the boy whose life he had ended.

“I don’t deserve your kindness, Lucerys.” His voice shook, and he looked away, unable to meet those gentle brown eyes any longer. 

Why? Why do you look sad for me? Why do you look at me with so much love? I don’t deserve your love.  

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I took everything from you.” Aemond said almost desperately while looking at the floor, his voice breaking a bit at the last part. He couldn’t bring himself to look up, to look at Lucerys… He didn’t deserve it. 

Lucerys stepped closer until he was standing directly in front of Aemond, his presence as gentle and calming as a spring breeze. He couldn’t help it and he looked at his nephew, noticing how the younger boy’s eyes were filled with a warmth that made Aemond’s heart ache in ways he had never imagined.

“You didn’t mean to,” Lucerys said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I know you didn’t mean to kill me.”

Aemond let out a broken, humorless laugh, his shoulders shaking with the weight of his guilt. “It doesn’t matter,” he muttered, his eye burning with unshed tears. He would not cry. He wouldn’t allow himself to cry. “I still did it. Vhagar still—”

“I know,” Lucerys interrupted softly, his tone full of understanding. “But I don’t blame you, Aemond. I never did.”

Aemond’s breath caught in his throat, and he felt as though the ground beneath him was crumbling. How could Lucerys stand there, looking at him with such love, such forgiveness, when he had stolen everything from him? How could the boy he had killed be the one to offer him the absolution he had so desperately longed for?

“I… I thought I wanted revenge… but I just wanted… I wanted you to love me,” Aemond whispered, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. His voice cracked under the weight of his confession, and his hands trembled at his sides. “And I ruined it. I ruined everything.” He said, bitterly. He wanted to scream, cry and curse at the gods that had condemned him to destroy the one person who could truly love him.  

Lucerys’ eyes softened, and for the first time since his death, Aemond felt the warmth of another’s touch as the boy reached up to cup his cheek. It was faint, like a breeze barely stirring the air, but it was real. He was real. 

Oh… He’s really here.

“I do love you, Aemond,” Lucerys whispered, his thumb brushing softly against Aemond’s skin. “I always have.”

Aemond’s heart shattered. The thread keeping him calm and composed had finally snapped in two. And without being able to stop himself, the tears he had fought so hard to keep at bay broke free, spilling down his face in hot, silent streams. His chest heaved with the weight of his sorrow, his grief, his regret. He had longed for Lucerys’ love, had yearned for it with every fiber of his being, and now he would never know it—not truly.

“I’m so sorry,” Aemond choked out, his voice breaking with the force of his sobs. “I’m so sorry, Lucerys. I didn’t mean—”

“I know,” Lucerys said gently, his eyes filled with an endless, unconditional love. “I know, Aemond.”

Aemond fell to his knees before the boy’s ghost, his body wracked with sobs as he clung to the hem of Lucerys’ cloak. He could feel his heart breaking all over again, shattering into a million pieces that would never be whole again. He would never know how would it feel to wake up beside Lucerys, to feel his small body between his arms, to kiss his lips. He would never hear his laughter again, his teasing voice, he would never see the pout that he made when he was annoyed at something, and he would never be able to grow old with the love of his life.  

Still, Lucerys stood there, his presence a quiet comfort, his love a balm for Aemond’s shattered soul.

“I forgive you,” Lucerys whispered, his voice soft and soothing. “I forgive you, Aemond. You don’t have to carry this burden anymore.”

But Aemond couldn’t let go. How could he? He had taken everything from Lucerys—his life, his future, his happiness. Not only that, he had taken away the possibility of a future together. Because knowing his lovely Luke, he would have found a way to stay together… Aemond didn’t deserve to be free of this regret… And now, his adorable Lucerys was in front of him, offering Aemond the one thing he could never forgive himself for.

“You deserved better,” Aemond whispered, his voice broken and filled with sorrow. “You deserved so much more.”

Lucerys knelt in front of him, his small hand reaching out to touch Aemond’s face once more. “Maybe… Maybe not… but I know I had what I needed,” he said quietly. “I had you, I had your heart.”

Aemond’s heart clenched painfully in his chest, and he closed his eye, his tears still falling freely. For so long, his desires for revenge had covered his real feelings, he, in his dumb, young mind, had wanted to protect Lucerys, to keep him safe, but in the end, he and his foolish actions had been the one to destroy him.

“I will never be free of this,” Aemond whispered, his voice filled with the weight of his guilt. “I will never forgive myself… I won’t…”

Lucerys smiled, his eyes soft and full of love. “Then let me forgive you.”

Aemond looked up at him, his vision blurred with tears. Lucerys’ face was bathed in the soft glow of the afterlife, and in that moment, Aemond saw not the boy he had killed, but the boy he had loved.

And then, with one final, soft smile, Lucerys began to fade, his form dissolving into the misty light of the otherworld.

“I’ll always forgive you, Aemond,” Lucerys’ voice whispered as he vanished from sight, leaving Aemond alone in the cold, empty halls of Harrenhal.

Aemond remained there, on his knees, his tears falling silently onto the stone floor. The warmth that Lucerys had brought with him was gone, the kind touch of his love had faded with him, leaving behind only the icy chill of regret.

But Aemond didn’t move. He couldn’t. His legs felt weak, his body heavy, as if the weight of all his sins had finally anchored him to the ground. The fire had long since died out, and the only light in the room came from the faint moonlight filtering through the broken windows. His heart was still racing, each beat sharp and painful in his chest, he could hear his own heart, hitting against his ribs with painful punches as if it was trying to run away from his body. He couldn’t blame his heart… After all, Aemond felt as if his very soul was being torn apart.

For a long while, he didn’t speak. Didn’t cry. He just existed there, in that hollow space of grief, his mind replaying every moment of Lucerys’ death, and every bit of the conversation he just had with the ghost of his loved one.

I will never forgive myself.

It was the only truth he had left, the only constant in a world that had unraveled around him. Even Lucerys, in his infinite kindness, could not absolve him of this sin. Even if Lucerys could forgive him, even if he could move past his horrible death. Aemond knew that he would carry this burden for the rest of his life, a shadow that would follow him until the day he died. Maybe when he died, he would feel that he could forgive himself.

His breath came shallow now, the weight of it all finally pulling him down. Slowly, without thinking, Aemond sank to the floor. His cape had fallen from the chair earlier, and now it lay beside him, a small, insignificant object that seemed almost out of place in this vast, empty hall. He stared at it for a moment, then reached out with trembling hands, pulling the cape beneath his head as he lay down on the cold stone floor. Maybe he should start the fire again, maybe he should look for a warmer place to pass the night, but he couldn’t bring himself to move away from the last place he felt Lucery’s touch on his skin. He wasn’t able to do it. 

The chill seeped through his clothes, biting into his skin, but he didn’t care. He welcomed it—the numbness, the quiet, the peace that could only be found in the void. His long silver hair spread out like a halo beneath him as he closed his eye, his chest still heaving with the weight of his sobs. His body felt like lead, his heart a dead thing in his chest.

Lucerys.

He whispered the name in his mind like a prayer, as if saying it enough times might bring the boy back to him, might somehow undo the terrible wrong he had committed. But of course, it was a futile hope. Lucerys was gone. He was never coming back.

Yet, as Aemond lay there, drowning in his own grief, something strange happened.

A gentle warmth brushed against his cheek, so faint and so fleeting that he almost didn’t notice it at first. His breath hitched, his eye flying open as his heart stuttered in his chest. His hand instinctively rose to his face, fingers brushing over the scarred flesh where his sapphire eye was embedded, but the warmth wasn’t coming from his own touch.

No, this was something else. Something softer.

Aemond’s breath caught in his throat as he lay there, frozen, the warmth growing stronger—like the brush of a hand, the lightest caress, as though someone was touching him with the tenderness of a lover. His fingers trembled as he lowered his hand, his body going rigid as he realized what it was.

Lucerys.

It was impossible, absurd even, but in that moment, Aemond swore he could feel Lucerys’ hand on his cheek—the same gentle touch he had felt earlier when the ghost had stood before him. It was as if Lucerys had come back to him, not as a haunting specter of forgiveness, but as the boy Aemond had longed to love in life.

His heart clenched painfully in his chest, and the tears he had fought so hard to hold back spilled over once more. His breath hitched in his throat, and before he knew it, he was sobbing—great, heaving sobs that wracked his entire body, his chest rising and falling in uneven gasps. His fingers dug into the stone floor beneath him, his body curling in on itself as if he could somehow escape the torment of his own heart.

But still, the warmth remained. Lucerys’ touch lingered on his scarred cheek, soft and loving, as if trying to soothe the pain that had taken root in Aemond’s soul. And for a brief, fleeting moment, Aemond allowed himself to believe it. He allowed himself to believe that what he saw before was real. That the ghost wasn’t a product of his regretful heart but that Lucerys had truly forgiven him, that his nephew had returned—not as a vengeful spirit, but as the boy who had once loved him.

Aemond squeezed his eye shut, his sobs growing quieter, more desperate. He clung to that feeling, to that faint touch, as though it were the only thing tethering him to the world.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice broken and hoarse. “I’m so, so sorry.”

And as the warmth slowly began to fade, as Lucerys’ touch slipped away like the last breath of wind before a storm, Aemond’s heart shattered all over again.

He had been given a glimpse of what could have been—what should have been—and now it was gone. Forever.

The last of his tears fell silently down his cheeks, and as the night deepened around him, Aemond lay there, alone in the cold, broken and hollow. The echoes of his sobs were the only sound in the vast emptiness of Harrenhal, a reminder that no matter how hard he had tried, he would never escape the consequences of his actions.

He would never know Lucerys' love in life, only in the fleeting touches of a ghost.

[magmagicstyle]

Lost Love, Lasting Remembrance

James and Regulus were in love... but war doesn't forgive anyone.

The room they were in was dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls as James and Regulus stood facing each other. Their silhouettes cast against the flickering candlelight, dark against the wall behind them, their shadows seemed to be touching, almost as if they were seeking comfort in each other. The air felt quite heavy with unspoken emotions, the tension palpable with something that enveloped them like a suffocating shroud. The soft glow of the candles seemed to highlight the vulnerability engraved on their faces, the lines of worry and fear that tainted their youthful features. No one as young as them should look so worried, so scared. 

At that moment, time seemed to stand still, as if the entire world held its breath, remaining still to see which path these two hearts would choose. It was almost as if destiny and duty were in the middle of an awfully painful war. Every heartbeat echoed in the silence, a persistent reminder of the significance of the decision that hung between the young lovers, a decision that could change the course of their lives forever.

Regulus swallowed hard, trying to steady the shaking motion in his hands as he glanced into James' hazel eyes. Oh, those eyes that had always held a spark of mischief and warmth were looking quite sad now, the usual gleam in them was almost gone, tainted with the finality of the decision that was hanging over their heads. Now, the eyes that usually saw Regulus with so much love, were filled with worry and a touch of fear, mirroring the turmoil in Regulus' heart. His heart thumped loudly in his chest, and every fibre of his being yearned to stay with James, to hold him close and never let go. But the danger that loomed over their love was too great, and he knew he had to make this sacrifice. Even if it pained him to do so. 

"I love you," Regulus whispered, his voice breaking as he reached out to touch James' cheek. He usually didn’t allow himself to be vulnerable. In his family, showing emotions and showing that you cared for someone was a weakness, something that needed to be destroyed, or crushed, so nobody could use it against you. But James, with the gorgeous boy that opened his heart to Regulus, the black -newly named- heir, could open his heart. Now, touching James’ cheek, he could feel how the warmth of his touch was a stark contrast to the coldness that gripped his heart. Regulus had never imagined that he would fall in love, he used to fear that moment and then, when he met James, he was eager to feel it… And now, looking into his lover’s eyes and feeling the dread of the decision he had to make, love was both a blessing and a curse. It was a love that had filled his days with light and happiness, but it was also a love that now threatened to engulf them both in darkness.

James' hand covered Regulus', holding it gently against his cheek. He traced his thumb over Regulus' pale skin, trying to memorise the soft touch of his lover, knowing that this might be the last time he would ever feel this closeness. "And I love you," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. He felt like his heart was in his throat, and he was doing his best to keep his tears at bay. "But you don't have to do this, Regulus. We can run away together, and start a new life where no one knows us. We can be happy together. We could disappear. Sure, it would be hard to leave Sirius, but he has Remus. Also, if we go away and wait till the war is over, we could meet again… I know he would be glad to know we are safe…"

Regulus closed his eyes, trying to block out the image of a life with James that would always be tainted by the fear of being discovered. Sure, at first, it would be amazing, but then the fear would settle in, and he hated the idea of living like a fugitive. The taste of salt on his lips from his tears seemed to reflect the salt in the air between them. When did he start to cry? Regulus had no idea. Still, he seemed unable to stop himself. It was like a river that didn’t have a dam anymore. "You don't understand," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm trying to protect you, James. If I stay with you, they'll come after you too. I can't bear the thought of you getting hurt because of me."

Tears welled up in James' eyes, his heart breaking at the thought of losing Regulus. His voice wavered as he held back a sob, "I can't lose you," he pleaded, his grip on Regulus' hand tightening. "We can face whatever comes together. I could keep you safe… I know it always seems like I’m joking around and I know most of the time I don’t take things seriously but I really can’t lose you…"

Regulus shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks like cascading stars. His heart felt like it was being pulled in two different directions, between his love for James and his need to protect him. "You don't know what they're capable of," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "My parents, the Death Eaters… they won't stop until they find me, now that Sirius ran away and I’m the Black heir, there’s no way they will risk me running away as well... And when they find me with you… I can't bear to think of what they would do to you."

James pulled Regulus into a tight embrace, burying his face in his lover's hair, inhaling the scent that was uniquely Regulus. He pushed his face against his lover’s and let his tears mingle with Regulus', and he wanted to hold onto this moment forever, never letting go. "I don't care," he whispered against Regulus' ear, his voice trembling. "I love you, Regulus, and I would rather face anything with you by my side than live a life without you."

Regulus clung to James, the intensity of his emotions making him hold on tighter. His mind was torn apart, battling between his desire to stay and his fear of the consequences. Still, he knew what he had to do, as painful as it was. He wanted to let himself be weak and pretend that James could stand a chance against The Dark Lord, but even he, being so young, wasn’t as foolish as his parents liked to believe. With a heavy heart, he pulled away from James' embrace, his gaze locked with James' for one last time.

"I have to go," Regulus whispered. His voice filled with anguish. His heart was breaking when he started to walk away, his soul being crushed with every step he took away from James. He didn’t want to go away, he didn’t want to leave the only person who truly loved him no matter what. He didn’t want this to be their end. "I have to do this to keep you safe. Please understand, James." He said, trying to contain a sob that would reveal how painful this goodbye was for him.

James' heart shattered as he nodded, the pain evident in his eyes. He felt like his soul was being ripped apart, torn between wanting Regulus to stay with him and knowing that his lover was right in his fears, knowing that if they stayed together, Voldemort and the death-eaters would never leave them alone. "I'll never forget you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'll love you forever, Regulus Black."

Regulus choked back a sob, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. His hand reached out to touch James' face one last time, memorizing every detail of the man he loved with all his heart. He wanted to maintain this memory forever, he desired to stop time for a minute just to look at the man he gave his heart to and never forget the passion and care they shared for one another. "And I'll love you, James Potter," he said, his voice breaking. "Always."

They stood there momentarily, their hearts entwined even as their paths diverged. Every second felt like an eternity, every heartbeat a painful reminder of the love they were leaving behind. With one last tearful look, Regulus turned and walked away, leaving James behind. 

The pain in his chest grew with every step, but he forced himself to keep going, to protect the man he loved at any cost. He knew he was breaking James' heart, and it was tearing him apart, but he had to do this. For James, he would sacrifice everything. As he stepped out into the cold night air, he couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that settled in his chest. The pain of leaving James was almost unbearable, but he knew it was the only way to keep him safe.

Regulus walked away from the love of his life, his heart heavy with the weight of his decision. Tears streamed down his cheeks, but he didn't look back. He couldn't. Looking back would break him, and he needed to be strong.

The memory of James' tearful eyes and broken voice haunted him as he made his way to the path that would lead him to his new destiny. He had chosen the path of darkness to protect the light of his life, and he hoped that someday, James would understand.

Right?

- -

"I love you, Regulus Black, always," James whispered the words that had been etched into his heart since that fateful goodbye, slowly laying a single white lily on the memorial that showed the name that he had whispered so many times while they laid together in bed before war ruined everything.

As he stood there, the weight of their love and the pain of their parting washed over him like a tidal wave, crashing against his soul and leaving him gasping for breath. The lily on the memorial was a symbol of their love, pure and fragile, just like the love they had shared.

In the darkness of the night, James allowed himself to grieve, to let the tears flow freely as he mourned the loss of his soulmate. The pain was raw and deep, but he knew that he would carry Regulus in his heart until the end of time.

And so, under the pale moonlight, James Potter wept for the love he had lost, for the sacrifice that had been made, and for the bittersweet memories that would forever linger in his heart. The world around him may have moved on, but his love for Regulus would always burn bright, a beacon of light in the darkest of times.

Sorry for disappearing, I got a job and then I lost that job... and then I got another job... and then I lost that job again... Please remember that English isn't my first language. <3

[magmagicstyle]

I- Okay, I'll go back to write stuff.

If you’re reading this: this is your sign that your WIP is worth writing, is worth the effort, and that you are doing great. Keep going, take breaks, reflect. But do not lose sight of how far you’ve come on this project! You can do it!

[magmagicstyle]

Since now people want to jump at my neck for having an opinion, I'll explain myself -even thought I shouldn't have to do it...-

1) I don't hate Eddie

2) I'm not leaving the Buddie's ship

3) I guess I am joining the BuckTommy/Bummy's ship (whatever the official name is)

4) I was just saying that I wish for Buck's happiness, because among all the characters (because I love them ALL) Buck is my favourite

5) I also want Eddie's happiness

6) If Buck ends up with Tommy or Eddie or whatever other character might appear in the future, I just want Buck to have a good, healthy relationship with his partner, same for Tommy and Eddie

I can be and I am a multishipper, I love relationships, I adore love, I just want people to find their special someone if that's something they want to have.

I don't know why some of you all are so upset over someone giving their opinion online, but you do you, hun... I just ask for you to not be rude towards me because maybe I don't share the same opinion as you, thank you.

[magmagicstyle]

https://www.tumblr.com/magmagicstyle/749486127062335488/look-i-used-to-be-a-hardcore-buddie-shipper

why do Tommy shippers need to announce their departure from buddie 💀💀 no one cares lolol. Just go post in the Tommy and Buck Tommy tags

First... Why do you need to be anonymous when sending me your opinion? Is it so hard to own to your comments and send the message showing your username?

Also, I never said that I was abandoning buddie, thanks... I just commented that I have nothing against Tommy and Buck's relationship, because what I care about it Buck's happiness and well-being. If that's with Tommy, awesome, if that's with Eddie, that's also awesome. I love reading Buddie content and I also love reading Bummy content (don't know if that's the shipname, but whatever).

By the way, for someone who says that nobody cares, you seem to care a big deal considering that you decided to write to me to give me your opinion... If you don't really care, why don't you ignore my post? I mean, I'm not hurting you by posting something, so... Just keep going with your life and let me live mine? I don't know.

[magmagicstyle]

Look... I used to be a hardcore Buddie shipper but... I just realised that I just want Buck to date a nice man... That will give him the support and smooches that he deserves so... If that man is Tommy, I'm all for it.

I STILL SHIP BUDDIE, I JUST SHIP BUCKTOMMY AS WELL

[magmagicstyle]

Hi, so... before anyone yells at me for not updating, I'm writing updates and I'm trying to deal with my writer's block.

So... in other news.

I created a ko-fi, because... I want to study something and there's no way in heaven I can pay for it on my own and there's no way in hell I can ask for my parents for that amount (at least not in good conscience), so...

I'm going to slave myself to give you a lot of updates in my Patreon and I'll post updates on my Tumblr, and Ao3 and learn how to use Ko-fi so I can do stuff there as well...

This is voluntary, but I will leave the links below if you want to support little old me. KO-FI: https://ko-fi.com/magicsmag PATREON: https://patreon.com/magmagicstyle?utm_medium=unknown&utm_source=join_link&utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator&utm_content=copyLink

And if I knew how, I would share my PayPal from the get-go, but I don't know how to use it that well... so... yeah.

I don't like asking for money, and I wouldn't usually do it... but I really want to pursue this path and I know I can't do it on my own.

[magmagicstyle]

That's it, tonight I'm going to write until I have at least two new updates.

[magmagicstyle]

Eternal Hearts - CHAPTER 1: The Designation Letter

It was the first hour in the morning, and not any sunrise, but a next day of a birthday type of morning. This date was particularly special for the young wizard that was waking up. Today, at the sweet age of seventeen, Draco Malfoy would receive the fated letter that would carry the name of his future husband and the father of his children. In his mind, there was no doubt that the name in the letter would belong to an amazing alpha, and he was quite sure that his mate would be another man. He was so excited, unable to contain himself. He wanted to jump, to run and maybe even dance. He had been waiting for this letter ever since he was assigned as an omega. His mate would be perfect. He could already picture him, as a kind, spoiling and strong alpha that would treat Draco like the treasure he was. His alpha would love the idea of having a lot of kids, all to spoil and love. He would be strong and brave and all that his parents told him that the blonde deserved.

Draco, still in his sleepwear and with his blonde locks messy from the hours of sleep, paced back and forth in his dormitory, his heart pounding with anticipation. Today was the day, today just in a few minutes, he would receive his designation letter—the letter that would reveal the name of his fated mate, the person he was destined to spend the rest of his life with. It was a momentous occasion for any omega, alpha or even beta, and just the thought of reading his letter and finding out who was his future spouse filled his heart with both excitement and trepidation.

Draco had always known that the day would come when he would receive his designation letter. In fact, his parents made sure that he was ready for it and that he knew that no matter what, his partner should treasure him and love him. Still, that didn't make it any less nerve-wracking. He had built walls around himself, presenting a cold and aloof exterior to the world, but deep down, he yearned for a connection, for someone who would truly understand him. His parents were designated mates, and even if on the outside it seemed like they were only cordial to each other, in reality, when they were alone or just with Draco, they were the most loving and caring couple ever. They loved each other so much that it just made Draco dream of being mated. 

As the morning sun cast a warm glow through the window, Draco's eagle owl, Epsilon, flew in, carrying a parchment in its beak. Draco's heart skipped a beat as he rushed over to retrieve the letter. With trembling hands, he unrolled it and began to read.

Dear Mr. Malfoy, Congratulations on reaching the age of designation.  As the Ministry of Magic, it is our duty to honor and respect the ancient laws that govern fated mates. We understand that the journey of accepting this designation can be filled with a range of emotions, from excitement to uncertainty. Rest assured, we are here to guide and support you through this remarkable chapter of your life. The fated mate designation is a rare and magical phenomenon, believed to be a manifestation of the deepest connections between two souls. It signifies an unbreakable bond, forged by forces beyond our comprehension. Your pairing with your future mate holds the promise of an extraordinary love story, one that has the potential to transcend the boundaries of time and shape the very fabric of your existence. We encourage you to embrace this remarkable opportunity and explore the depths of your connection with your designated mate. It is a bond that goes beyond superficial differences and societal expectations, reaching into the core of who you are as individuals and as a couple. Know that the Ministry is available to provide any assistance or resources you may require on this journey. We have a dedicated team of experts who specialize in fated mate relationships and can offer guidance, support, and counselling to ensure that your bond flourishes in a nurturing and fulfilling manner. We are pleased to inform you that your fated mate is Mr. Ronald Bilius Weasley, a remarkable individual with whom you share an extraordinary connection. The power of destiny has brought you together, weaving a bond that transcends time and circumstance. Embrace this new chapter with an open heart and an open mind, Mr. Malfoy. Remember that the power of love can transcend any obstacles that may come your way. Your fated mate, Mr. Weasley, awaits the opportunity to embark on this incredible journey with you. Once again, congratulations on this remarkable designation. May your love story be filled with joy, growth, and everlasting happiness. Sincerely, Octavius Thornbloom, Fate and Compatibility Assessment Department The Ministry of Magic

Remember how Draco was talking about butterflies when he was a kid? The beautiful nerves and excitement that would fill his heart when he knew his mate’s name? Yes, well… The butterflies were dead and Draco hated every second of it.

In his hands, there was the letter. The dammed letter that was supposed to change his future for the better. The letter that was supposed to show him the love of his life, the letter that would show him how wonderful life could be with someone that would love him no matter what. This letter was supposed to be so accurate that shouldn’t show any other option than his soulmate.  He expected anybody, someone from his own house (Ravenclaw), or Slytherin like his parents, or maybe a hard-working and kind Hufflepuff that would accept that Draco was used to being spoiled and treated like a treasure and would follow suit… Hell! He would even take someone from Gryffindor that was at least a bit study inclined and that would protect him no matter what… but not this Gryffindor, anybody but this one… So, why?

Draco's breath caught in his throat as he read those words once again. This must be some kind of mistake… Probably the ministry just messed up the letters or someone was distracted while working… Because seriously? Ron Weasley? The very thought sent a rush of apprehension coursing through his veins. Sure, Ron was an alpha, a really handsome, tall and strong alpha that would be an amazing mate for any omega but… he was also a Gryffindor and a member of the famous Golden Trio. Besides! They had clashed countless times over the years, their animosity rooted in the rivalry between their houses. So, why? Why did the letter show the name of the one boy who hated him with his whole soul and body? 

“Ronald Bilius Weasley”

There, in the middle of the letter, signed almost like a death sentence was the name of the boy who hated him from the moment they met. Draco couldn’t really blame him, since he made sure to mock his family and poor origins from the moment they met. But he couldn’t help it, he was young, barely learning about being more open and accepting and the boy had made fun of his name… and Draco was quite fond of his name. Sure, Ron wasn’t openly hostile towards him, since he was an alpha and Draco an omega and some rules and laws forbade him from harming the blonde boy, but still. He was always so cold, leaving the room as soon as Draco appeared to talk to Hermione about a project or something that they were studying together. Sure, Draco wasn’t the best guy a few years prior, he knew that. But he had changed, he was friends with Hermione, finally accepting that the witch was one of the smartest women in the whole school, and even Harry had forgiven him for being a rightful brat when they were kids. 

His mind flooded with doubts and fears. What if Ron actually hated him so much that he wanted nothing to do with having him as a mate? What if he rejected Draco outright? The idea of facing that rejection was unbearable, sure… But if he had to be completely honest, Draco couldn't bear the thought of being forever bound to someone who despised him. Getting rejected would be ten times better than having to live with someone that wanted nothing to do with him. 

Determined to confront his fate head-on, Draco made up his mind. He had to know where he stood with Ron. If rejection was inevitable, he needed to face it and move on, even if it meant a life of loneliness. His parents would understand. Maybe they would take him to another country after graduating and would help him find another mate or a way to be able to date and love someone that wasn’t his destined. They would find a way. After all, unlike Ron, his parents loved him with all their hearts and they wouldn’t let Draco waste away in his rejection sadness. 

With a mix of apprehension and resolve, Draco took a deep breath, fixed his hair and clothes, made sure to present himself in the best way possible and left his dormitory heading towards the Gryffindor common room. Each step felt heavy, his thoughts consumed by the impending conversation. By the time he was almost at the entrance of the common room -bless Hermione and her idea of Draco picking her up to go study together- he had rehearsed his words in his mind a hundred times, but still, Draco couldn't shake the uncertainty that gnawed at him.

When the blonde wizard arrived at the entrance of the Gryffindor common room, he took a deep breath, gathering his courage. If one of Gryffindor's characteristics was that they were courageous, he understood why he wasn’t one. Dear Merlin, this was difficult. He knocked on the door, his heart pounding in his chest, it almost felt like it was trying to run away and not face what was about to happen. It swung open to reveal a surprised Ron Weasley -because Draco is just that unlucky and it couldn’t be someone else-, who regarded Draco with a mix of curiosity and wariness. Alright, he was bloody handsome… 

"Malfoy? What are you doing here?" Ron asked, clearly taken aback by Draco's unexpected presence.

"I... I need to talk to you, Weasley," Draco replied, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. Draco mentally cursed himself. A Malfoy, studdering? What was wrong with him? "It's important." He finished looking at the redhead in front of him with a determined expression on his face.

Ron's eyes narrowed, but after a moment's hesitation, he stepped aside, allowing Draco to enter the common room. Draco entered the place, grabbing his arm and looking around for a few seconds before following Ron. They settled into a secluded corner, away from prying eyes and curious ears.

Draco took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. "Weasley, I received my designation letter today," he began, his voice steady but tinged with apprehension.

Ron's expression hardened, confusion and unease shown on his face, and Draco could sense his defences rising. "And? Who's your mate?" he asked, his tone guarded.

Draco looked into Ron's eyes, searching for any hint of disdain or rejection. Instead, he found a wall, impenetrable and cold. It confirmed Draco's worst fears. Of course, Ron was suspicious, of course, the redhead wasn’t going to show any compassion or kindness towards the blonde git that practically bully him during the first years of their time at Hogwarts. 

"It's you, Weasley," Draco said, his voice filled with resignation. "You're my fated mate."

Ron's eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of emotion crossing his face so fast that was almost impossible to identify, but as soon as he showed that reaction, he masked it, going back to that cold and impenetrable wall. Draco couldn't decipher the meaning behind that fleeting expression, but it didn't matter. The coldness in Ron's gaze was enough to confirm Draco's fears.

"I see," Ron said, his voice devoid of warmth, but showing some confusion. "Well, Malfoy, I don’t know what you want from me… Besides, you hate me, don’t you? Why would you want to be part of my family?" Ron said, almost snarking his words while looking at the blonde.

Draco's heart sank, a wave of pain crashing over him. He had expected rejection, but hearing it directly from Ron stung more than he had anticipated. He fought back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes, unwilling to show any vulnerability in front of his rival. He wanted to scream, he wanted to tell the other boy that he was wrong, that Draco didn’t care about family or anything else, and that he just wanted a mate that loved him. Still, this was what the blonde expected, this obvious rejection and cold words were exactly what he knew was going to happen. So he just took a deep breath, holding back the tears that wanted to spill from his eyes and looked directly at the redhead in front of him. 

“Reject me,” Draco said softly, expression void of emotion while he tried his best to maintain everything in order in his head and heart.

“Wh...what?” Ron said, totally surprised by the blonde in front of him. Still, that confusion soon turned cold when the omega’s words sink in. “Then, I don’t want to be your mate, Malfoy…” 

"Thank you," Draco replied, his voice barely a whisper. "...then I won't trouble you any further."

Without waiting for a response, Draco turned and walked away, his steps heavy with the weight of his shattered hopes. Draco was the one who decided to break this, he was the one who told Ron to reject him so they could both move on. The walls he had built around his heart grew stronger, shielding him from the pain and disappointment that threatened to consume him.

Hey! So, this is a fanfic that I've been posting on my profile of Ao3 so... yeah, I'm just sharing it over here since I'm planning to post some stories in the next few weeks.