#and lost all my energy mere seconds before time up

[diabolocracy]

Every time they update this fucking game it lags like a bitch after until they patch it again. Also why is the second revive in raid 200 crystals? And why do you have to finish so many raids before you can run with other people? Like I get it people fucking sucked in that mode but come on

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ cloud nine. ✦ 」

Mattheo riddle x reader [part2]

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:fluff,smut, angst

Words: 11.2k

The whispers followed me like a shroud, a constant murmur that swirled around the edges of my existence. "The jinx girl ," they hissed, punctuated by snickers and pointed fingers. Bad luck, they believed, clung to me like a second skin, a misfortune I carried wherever I went.

Hogwarts, a place that promised magic and wonder, had become a labyrinth of avoidance. Empty seats flanked me in Potions, desks strategically moved away in Charms, and hushed conversations abruptly stopped when I entered the room. I was a pariah, a freak, the girl who supposedly brought misfortune upon anyone who dared come close.

Every dropped potion, every sprained ankle, every lost Quidditch match - all blamed on me, Y/N Y/L/N, the harbinger of bad luck. Hogwarts, once a dream, had become a prison. Even the ghosts seemed to cower at my presence.

Professor Flitwick, a whirlwind of energy and charm despite his diminutive stature, announced a project for our Charms class.

"Partnering up for a Conjuring Extravaganza!" he squeaked, his voice a high-pitched melody. "Showcase your enchanting skills with a partner of your choosing!"

The room erupted in excited chatter, students scrambling to find their partners. I, however, remained rooted to the spot, a familiar ache twisting in my gut. Who would want to pair up with the cursed child? As if sensing my despair, Professor Flitwick's bright blue eyes twinkled in my direction.

"Don't worry, Miss Y/L/N," he chirped, "there's always a perfect match for everyone!"

His words offered little comfort. The pairings continued, each giggling duo a stark reminder of my isolation. Just when I resigned myself to another solo project, a voice cut through the din.

"I'll pair with Y/L/N ."

The classroom fell silent. Heads swiveled in unison, disbelief etched on their faces. It was Mattheo Riddle, the Slytherin prince with a reputation as sharp as his intellect .

Professor Flitwick, however, beamed like a firework had gone off in his tiny fist. "Excellent choice, Mr. Riddle!"

My jaw dropped. Mattheo Riddle? Partnering with me ? the jinxing girl ? It was as unexpected as a dragon hatching a pixie. A ripple of surprised murmurs coursed through the class. Did he just volunteer? Was this a cruel joke?

stole a glance at Mattheo, half expecting a smirk or a sly wink that would shatter the illusion of kindness.

But instead, he met my gaze with a genuine, albeit hesitant, smile. It was a rare sight on his usually stoic face, a flicker of warmth that sent a jolt through me. He sauntered over, his confident stride somehow softened as he approached me.

"Fancy working together, (Y/N)?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. It was the first time he'd ever addressed me directly, to talk to , and the informality sent a wave of heat rushing to my cheeks.

"I... I uh, sure," I stammered, still struggling to process the situation.

Professor Flitwick launched into the specifics of the project, outlining the different magical creatures we could try conjuring. Mattheo, however, seemed more interested in me. He leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper.

"So," he began, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "what kind of magic are you most comfortable with love ?"he said, pulling up a chair next to me.

My heart skipped a beat. No one had ever used that term – "love" – with me before. It was a small word, but in that moment, it felt like a lifeline thrown across the chasm of isolation.

A hesitant smile tugged at my lips. "I, uh, I'm actually quite good with summoning charms," I confessed, surprised by my own boldness.

His smile widened. "Excellent," he said, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. "I'm more of a transfiguration specialist. We could combine our strengths."

Combine our strengths? The thought of working alongside Mattheo, of learning from him and maybe even teaching him a thing or two myself, sent a thrill through me.

A comfortable silence settled between us as we delved into the project details. Professor Flitwick's lecture faded into background noise . Mattheo surprised me with his easygoing nature, his sharp intellect tempered with a dry wit that made me laugh, a sound that felt foreign escaping my lips.

Finally, Professor Flitwick called out the end of class. "Alright, class! Dismissed! Remember, be creative, be precise, and most importantly, have fun!"

My heart still hammered in my chest, a mixture of trepidation and a strange, exhilarating thrill. Mattheo gathered his books, and as he turned to leave, he caught my eye “ see you around Y/L/N “

The crisp autumn air sent a shiver down my spine as I settled onto the worn wooden bench in the school gardens. pulled out the book I burrowed from the library earlier , determined to bury myself in its intricacies and forget the entire debacle.

The rhythmic crunch of gravel on the path drew my attention. I glanced up, bracing myself for another encounter with Pansy and her posse, only to find Mattheo approaching. His expression was unreadable, a mix of curiosity and something I couldn't quite decipher.

He stopped a few steps away, a silent question hanging in the air. Surprised, I stammered, "M-Mattheo? What are you doing here?"

A hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, his voice softer than I was accustomed to hearing from him.

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Was this real? "I, uh, sure," I managed, gesturing to the empty space beside me.

He sat down, our shoulders brushing slightly. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken words. Stealing a glance at him, I noticed his gaze fixed on the book in my lap. "Studying for the Charms exam?"

I shook my head. "Actually, this is more of a personal read. It's about obscure magical creatures."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh? Intriguing. Anything interesting?"

Hesitantly, I explained the book's exploration of Fae lore, their connection to emotions and the delicate balance they maintained with the human world.

To my surprise, Mattheo listened intently, occasionally asking insightful questions that sparked further discussion. We delved into the complexities of Fae magic, debated the ethics of human interaction with these mythical beings.

A playful glint flickered in his dark eyes, and a hint of a smile danced on his lips as he listened to my passionate explanation of Fae lore.

"Why – why are you smiling like that?" I asked hesitantly

"You just look so passionate about it," he explained, a genuine smile gracing his features.

"Actually, it’s totally my uncle fault he was the one who got me into it," I confessed, a fond smile playing on my lips. "He used to read me Fae tales before bed when I was young. Now here I am, analyzing their magical properties."

"Are you close with your uncle?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"Yeah, very close," I replied, then hesitated, a shadow crossing my face.

He picked up on the shift in my mood. "Everything okay?"

Taking a deep breath, I blurted out the question that had been gnawing at me since the library. "Why are you doing this, Mattheo? Is this a dare or something?"

He frowned, genuine confusion etched on his face. "Why would you say that?"

"You know," I rambled, gesturing at the empty garden around us. "Aren't you afraid?"

"Afraid of what?" He tilted his head, his dark eyes holding a hint of amusement.

My breath caught in my throat as he reached out, a playful glint in his eyes. He brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, sending shivers down my spine. "Me?" I whispered, barely a breath escaping my lips.

He smirked, amusement flickering across his face. "You look pretty cute to even scare a fly, love. Why should I be afraid of you?"

His words, laced with a hint of flirtation, left me speechless. His touch, light as a feather, lingered on my cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through me.

"You don't understand," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Look at the garden, no one is here because I'm here. They believe... they believe —"

He cut me off before I could finish my frantic explanation. "But I'm here, aren't I, love?" he said, his voice a husky murmur. My heart pounded like a drum solo, the world around us seeming to fade away.

"You shouldn't be," I managed, my voice small and breathless. "I don't understand why."

"I'm not playing games with you, I promise," he replied, his voice firm. I hesitantly nodded, closing my eyes as the weight of his words settled upon me.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, a heavy sigh escaping my lips.

"Don't be," he said softly. "I understand. And you know what? I don't care what they say. And to be honest I don't even care if it was true..."

smiling , I looked up , meeting his gaze."So you're the first "

He leaned back, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "Let's just say," he began, his voice low and intriguing, "I know you weren't the reason Ronald broke his leg before the last Quidditch match."

A surprised laugh escaped my lips."And," he continued, his smile widening, "I also know that the explosion in Potions last year was entirely Harold's fault, not yours."

I burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the quiet garden. The weight of the whispers seemed to lift with each peal, replaced by a lightness I hadn't felt in years

"You were just there, like everybody else," he said, his voice tinged with amusement. "So why would you take the blame for that?"

He leaned forward, his face so close now that my laughter subsided, replaced by a nervous flutter in my chest. "You know what they say about what happened in first year," I began, voice barely above a whisper.

"It stays with you till your last," he finished the saying, his dark eyes holding mine. A grateful smile tugged at my lips.

"So when Charlie from down the street brought the rumors from our neighborhood to school, and then spread that story about me jinxing Seamus during his first Quidditch practice.. and let's just say Neville's unfortunate Gillyweed incident didn't help my case too so a that everybody seemed to believe it ," I explained, finally voicing the truth I hadn't thought anyone would ever be interested in hearing.

"That's not fair," Mattheo said, his voice firm.

"Yeah," I sighed, "but as my Nana always says, some children are born with tragedies in their hands." A bittersweet smile crossed my lips. "And by some children, she means me."

"She sounds like a cruel woman," he muttered.

I laughed, a touch brittle. "If you think my Nana is cruel, you should've met my mother then."

The words tumbled out before I could stop them, a confession I hadn't meant to share. My cheeks burned with a sudden, hot shame. Mattheo, however, didn't seem repulsed. In fact, his expression softened further.

My voice trailed off, the weight of the past suddenly overwhelming. Sharing a secret like that felt like opening a wound I'd painstakingly hidden for years. The air hung heavy with unspoken words, the setting sun casting long shadows across the quiet garden.

"I-I think I should get going," I stammered, pushing myself out of the chair, my resolve shaky at best.

A cool hand gripped my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. My breath hitched as I turned to face him , his gaze a storm of emotions swirling within its depths "Don't run away yet."

My cheeks burned even hotter, but I couldn't seem to tear my gaze away from his. "I'm not running," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't release my wrist. Instead, his grip softened, his thumb gently stroking a soothing circle against my skin. The simple touch sent a shiver down my spine, a stark contrast to the cold isolation I'd grown accustomed to.

"Then can I interest you in some Butterbeer tomorrow evening?" he asked, his voice laced with a playful charm. "Three Broomsticks, perhaps? We could continue our discussion about Fae magic, or maybe you could tell me more about your Nana and your… interesting family history."

A surprised laugh escaped my lips. The idea of spending another evening with Mattheo, outside the confines of a school project, sent a thrill through me.

A smile, genuine and unrestrained, bloomed on my face. "I'd like that," I replied, my voice a whisper against the backdrop of the settling evening.

Sleep that night was a distant dream. The events in the garden replayed in my mind on an endless loop. Mattheo's hand in mine, the warmth of his touch lingering like a phantom sensation, his unexpected concern for my story – it all sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

The morning sun filtering through my dormitory window found me wide awake, staring at the ceiling with a tangled mess of hair and a giddy smile plastered on my face.

But then came the most agonizing decision of the day – what to wear? My trunk overflowed with the usual witchy robes, all shades of black and grey. None seemed appropriate for a… date? Was it a date? My cheeks burned at the thought.

Finally, I settled on a compromise. A dark green skirt that swirled around my knees, a crisp black blouse , and my trusty black boots. It wasn't extravagant, but it felt… me.

The walk to the Three Broomsticks was a mess a disaster as I was trying to figure out the right direction . As I pushed open the creaky oak door,I tried to breathe and calm my self down, My eyes scanned the room, searching for Mattheo amidst the bustling patrons.

And then I saw him, tucked away in a corner booth, a solitary figure amidst the chatter and laughter. Relief washed over me, followed by a jolt of something warmer as our eyes met. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he gestured for me to join him.

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I walked towards him, a self-conscious fluttering in my stomach. Reaching the table, I slid into the booth opposite him.

his gaze lingering a beat longer than necessary on my face. "you..," he finally said, a low whistle escaping his lips. "You look..." he trailed off, searching for the right word.

My cheeks flushed a rosy hue . "I look?"

A slow smile spread across his face. "Radiant," he finished, his voice a husky murmur.

My breath hitched. No one had ever used that word to describe me before. "Radiant?" I repeated, a nervous laugh escaping my lips.

"Absolutely," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Though, I have to say, for a second I thought you weren’t coming “

“ oh I’m so sorry I was just trying to find the way I, uh, I've never actually been to the Three Broomsticks before," I admitted, hoping to deflect from his unexpected compliment.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Never? But it's practically a Hogwarts tradition!"

. "I guess I've been more focused on the library and…avoiding crowds."

A flicker of understanding crossed his face. "Well, consider this your official initiation," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Prepare to be overwhelmed by sticky tables, questionable singing."

The waitress returned with our drinks, placing them carefully on the table.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, momentarily shattering our peaceful bubble. A boisterous group of students, their laughter echoing through the room, flooded in. My stomach lurched as I recognized them – Charlie Spinnet , flanked by his usual entourage of Crabbe and Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson, her face twisted in a sneer.

Unlike the usual sneer of Pansy Parkinson, Charlie's expression was a confusing mix of anger and… was that a hint of disappointment ? He locked eyes with me, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of something more complex in his gaze before it hardened back into a scowl.

Before I could decipher the meaning of it all, Pansy spotted us. Her voice, dripping with her usual malice, sliced through the warm bubble we'd created. "Look who is there," she drawled, directing a flirtatious smile towards Mattheo. "Hello there, Riddle."

Mattheo responded with his trademark icy drawl, "Parkinson. Always a pleasure."

She gave a curt nod before returning to her group. Charlie, however, didn't follow. His gaze remained fixed on me, an unsettling intensity in his eyes. I met his stare, a knot of unease forming in my gut.

"He's jealous," Mattheo said casually, leaning back in his seat. My jaw dropped.

"Jealous? Of what?" I stammered, completely bewildered.

"He likes you ," he replied with a knowing smirk.

A bewildered laugh escaped my lips. "He likes me ? Mattheo, the boy ruined my life" I interjected, my voice laced with a sharp edge. In truth, life hadn't been a cakewalk before Hogwarts either.

Just then, a loud shattering sound erupted from our table, sending shivers down my spine. My cup of butterbeer, which Charlie had probably targeted with a stray jinx spell , lay in pieces on the floor. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the pub as everyone turned to stare

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to control the spike of panic rising in my chest. This was exactly what I'd feared. when I opened my eyes again, my gaze met Mattheo's.

Unlike me, he wasn't angry. Instead, a mischievous glint sparkled in his dark eyes. he was smirking.

"So, you said this is your first time at the Three Broomsticks, love?" he asked, a playful smile on his lips as he stood up. I felt a pit forming in my stomach, unsure of where this was headed.

"Yeah," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Then let's make it unforgettable," he declared, his smile widening. He turned towards Charlie's table, his gaze locking onto Charlie's. Pansy, who had been watching the exchange with a mixture of amusement and apprehension, suddenly looked terrified.

Mattheo strolled over to their table, a confident swagger in his step. Reaching down, he casually lifted Charlie's untouched butterbeer He held it out to me with a charming smile. "Here, love," he said, not sparing Charlie a glance.

Charlie watched the exchange, his jaw clenched. "Is there anything you want to say, Spinnet?" Mattheo asked, his voice deceptively calm. Charlie just shook his head.

"Do you like toads?" Mattheo asked again a question so out of place it left us all speechless.

"S-seems like I do," Charlie stammered, his voice barely a squeak.

"Good," Mattheo said simply.

Then, in a blink, it happened. A blinding flash of light erupted from Mattheo's outstretched wand, enveloping Charlie. Before anyone could react, the speechless Charlie had vanished, replaced by a , green toad hopping comically on the table.

My scream was lost in the cacophony of shouts and gasps. Pansy let out a bloodcurdling shriek, scrambling back in her chair. Crabbe, for once, looked utterly bewildered.

Mattheo remained calm amidst the chaos, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Ignoring the stunned patrons, he reached for his pocket and placed a couple of pills on our table.

"I would take him back to the castle if I were you," he said to Pansy with a chilling smile. "Unless you prefer the company of amphibians."

Pansy was speechless, her face pale with a mixture of fear and fury. All she could manage was a strangled, "Merlin's Beard!"

Turning back to me, Mattheo offered his hand with his usual nonchalant charm. "Shall we go, love?" he asked, his voice a gentle contrast to the chaos he'd just unleashed.

We walked in comfortable silence for a while, following the familiar path towards the Black Lake. Finally, we reached the water's edge, the gentle lapping of waves against the shore providing a soothing counterpoint to the earlier frenzy. Mattheo gestured towards a large, flat rock nestled under a willow tree. "Mind joining me?" he asked, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

I nodded, still processing the events of the evening. Charlie's transformation, Pansy's terror, it was all a bit surreal. Sitting down on the rock, I pulled my knees to my chest, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.

"So," Mattheo began, a playful lilt to his voice, "first date, and I turn your potential bully into a toad. Not exactly the charming introduction I was hoping for."

I glanced at him, surprised. "Date?" I stammered, a blush creeping up my cheeks.

His smile softened. "Well," he began, " we did ditch the project discussion for butterbeer and…, then turning someone into a toad… definitely not your typical Tuesday."

I couldn't help but laugh, My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. "I… I never thought…" I stammered, completely flustered.

He reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His touch sent shivers down my spine. "Neither did I," he confessed, his voice surprisingly soft.

"Thank you," I said, taking a deep breath, " it's the first time anyone has ever defended me like that. Not since my Uncle."

Mattheo's smile softened. "Well," he said, his voice gentle, "consider me your knight in slightly-unconventional-Slytherin-armor then."

I laughed a blush crept up my cheek

Silence descended between us, broken only by the gentle chirping of crickets and the lapping of the lake.

"You mentioned your Uncle," Mattheo said, his voice curious. "Tell me about him."

"He's a bit of a character," I began, a smile playing on my lips. "He travels the world, studying ancient magic. He's probably in some remote location right now, chasing myths and legends he’s so brave ."

"Sounds fascinating," Mattheo commented, his voice laced with genuine interest. "But you're not close with anyone else in your family?"

The question hung in the air, and I hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to reveal. But something about the sincerity in his eyes, made me want to share a part of myself I rarely opened up about.

"Well, I'm not exactly their favorite," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "You see, my arrival wasn't exactly... welcomed."

Mattheo's brow furrowed in concern. "What do you mean?" he asked gently.

Taking a deep breath, I plunged into the murky waters of my past. "My mother ,she found out she was pregnant with me. At the same time, she learned about my late brother's… illness. He died tragically, just two days before I was born."

"She… she blamed me," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. "She believed I somehow took his place, that I was the reason he was gone."

He squeezed my hand gently, as if offering silent comfort.

"And your father?" he asked, his voice low and controlled.

"My father," I said, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "He said I stole his son's place. He never showed me any affection, always seeing a shadow of my brother instead of me."

My throat tightened, and I struggled to continue.

"But then there’s nana … well, she is a healer," I began, taking a shaky breath"She believed in a strange kind of balance. She used to say, 'A soul for a soul.'" A shiver ran down my spine as I recalled the chilling words. "'Sometimes,' she'd say, 'life takes one thing and gives another’. She just wished it had been my brother who lived."

"Y/N," he said, his voice low and serious. "That's a terrible thing to say to a child. None of that is your fault. You didn't ask to be born, and you certainly didn't cause your brother's illness."

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. The weight of their rejection, the constant reminder that I was somehow unwanted, had always been a heavy burden to carry.

Then, with a tenderness that took my breath away, he brushed his thumb across my cheek, wiping away a stray tear. The simple gesture, so full of empathy and understanding, felt like a dam breaking inside me. The tears that I'd been holding back spilled over, flowing freely down my cheeks.

Mattheo didn't flinch. He didn't pull away. He simply sat there, his hand cupping my face, his gaze holding mine with an intensity that both scared and excited me.

In a voice barely above a whisper, he said, "They don't deserve you , Not your mother, not your father, not sure your weird grandmother . They are blind to the incredible person you are."

His words, sincere and heartfelt, washed over me like a soothing balm.

"You are strong," he continued, his voice husky with emotion. "You are brave. You are kind. You carry the weight of their cruelty, yet you remain kind. That is a strength they will never possess."

His thumb continued to brush away my tears, his touch sending shivers down my spine.

As he spoke, the space between our faces seemed to shrink. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my lips, his gaze holding mine captive. The air crackled with a tension that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Then, before I could even think to stop him, Mattheo leaned in closer. The world around us seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of his hand on my face and the anticipation building within me.

His lips met mine in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a fleeting touch, barely a whisper, yet it sent a jolt of electricity through me.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. A nervous smile tugged at the corner of his lips.," is this your first kiss? “ he murmured, his voice husky.

A slow nod confirmed his suspicion , he leaned in again, this time deepening the kiss. This kiss was different – moving with a rhythmic dance that spoke volumes of unspoken emotions.

When we finally broke apart, breathless and slightly dazed, a blush crept up my cheeks. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo echoing in the quiet night.The taste of his lips lingered on mine, a sweet and intoxicating sensation that left me craving more.

"So," he said, his voice slightly breathless. "Forget everything I said about first impressions being unforgettable. Maybe this is a better way to start things off."

The next weeks unfolded like a whirlwind. Mattheo became a constant presence in my life, his shadow seemingly falling across mine with an uncanny frequency. Whether it was bumping into him "accidentally" on my way to Herbology, finding him "coincidentally" seated across from me in the library buried in the same obscure text on Fae magic, or him "miraculously" appearing just as I was leaving the Great Hall, it was clear he was making a concerted effort to be around me.

His tactics, though slightly obvious, were nonetheless charming. He started leaving small gifts on my desk – a fascinating book on Veela lore, a single perfect white rose

No one had ever gone out of their way to make me feel special before. Mattheo was doing just that, chip by chip, breaking down the walls I'd built around myself.

His "accidental" helpfulness extended to academics as well. He started leaving me beautifully illustrated books on ancient magic, conveniently "forgotten" on my desk. During Potions, he'd mysteriously materialize behind me just as I was about to accidentally add Flobberworm mucus to my Amortentia potion (a near disaster that could have had…interesting consequences).

One afternoon, while struggling with a particularly complex Transfiguration spell, Mattheo walked in on my frustration. He didn't laugh or poke fun,Instead, he sat down beside me, his patience as impressive as his knowledge. He explained the spell with a clarity I hadn't experienced before, his hand brushing against mine as he pointed something out on my parchment.

By the end of the week, I'd not only mastered the spell but found myself drawn to Mattheo in a way I hadn't before.

Mattheo's efforts extended beyond "accidents." He started introducing me to his friends. Theo and blaise ,Then there was Enzo, Mattheo's half-brother. With his playful demeanor and infectious laugh, Enzo made me feel welcome within their circle. I found myself enjoying their company, their camaraderie a stark contrast to the loneliness I had grown accustomed to.

One evening, while studying in the common room, , Enzo, sauntered over , He slid into the seat next to me, ignoring Mattheo's glare.

"Hey there, love," Enzo said, his voice dripping with a flirtatiousness that made me feel uncomfortable. "Studying hard?"

Before I could respond, Mattheo spoke up. "Enzo, perhaps you haven't noticed, but Y/N is busy."

Enzo simply chuckled. "Relax, brother. Just trying to be friendly." He leaned in closer to me

Enzo whispered, "He can be quite possessive, don’t you agree?" I couldn’t help but laugh, which was Mattheo’s last straw.

"Back off, Enzo," the words laced with barely contained anger , Enzo smiled and with a shrug and a playful wink at me, he sauntered away.

The most surprising consequence, however, was the complete absence of whispers. The rumors that had plagued me since childhood seemed to vanish overnight. Not a single snide remark, not a single pointed finger. The silence was deafening, and yet, strangely comforting.

Was it fear of Mattheo, or something more? Either way, I didn't question my newfound peace.

The stolen moments with Mattheo became a cherished secret language.

One particularly rainy evening, after a long and tedious double Potions lesson, Mattheo found me huddled in the deserted library, desperately trying (and failing) to decipher a particularly cryptic passage in a dusty old tome.

"Having trouble with the love language of Goblins, love?" he drawled, his voice a welcome sound in the quiet of the library.

I looked up, startled, my cheeks flushing at the sight of him. "Mattheo, you scared me!"

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "Just offering my expertise in the finer points of ancient languages," he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

He pulled up a chair next to me, the scent of his cologne filling my senses. As he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as he attempted to translate the passage, a spark ignited between us.

Emboldened by the privacy of the deserted library and the frustration of the Gobbledegook text, I turned to face him, my lips brushing against his ear as I pointed to a particularly confusing line.

Suddenly, the air crackled with unspoken desire. Mattheo's hand cupped my cheek, his thumb gently tracing the line of my jaw. His gaze held mine, a storm brewing in its depths.

"There's another way to learn this language," he murmured, his voice husky with suppressed longing.

Before I could respond, he closed the gap between us. The kiss was different this time. It was slow, searing, filled with a raw emotion that sent shivers down my spine. It was a kiss that spoke not just of affection, but of a growing possessiveness, a silent claim on my heart.

We pulled away breathlessly, foreheads resting together. The quiet of the library thrummed with the intensity of the unspoken words hanging in the air.

"Maybe Gobbledegook isn't so bad after all," I finally whispered, a shy smile playing on my lips.

Mattheo chuckled, a deep sound that resonated within me. "Perhaps not," he agreed, his eyes lingering on mine for a beat longer than necessary.

One blustery afternoon, while seeking refuge from a sudden downpour in a hidden alcove near the greenhouses, we found ourselves alone. The air crackled with unspoken tension as we stood shoulder-to-shoulder, the rain drumming a steady rhythm on the stone walls.

He cleared his throat, his gaze flickering from my face to the storm raging outside. "This weather is something else, isn't it?" he said, his voice barely a whisper above the wind.

"Unpredictable, like magic itself," I replied, my own voice barely a murmur.

Suddenly, he turned to face me, his eyes a storm brewing within them. Before I could react, he cupped my face in his hands, his touch sending shivers down my spine. The space between us evaporated as he leaned in, his breath warm against my cheek.

"You're unpredictable too, Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with something raw and primal. "In the best way possible."

And then, he kissed me. It was a kiss unlike any I'd ever experienced. It was fierce and passionate, filled with a yearning that mirrored my own.

I was hunched over a particularly dense text on Herbology, wrestling with the intricacies of magical plant growth, when a shadow fell across the page.

Looking up, I met Mattheo's gaze, a teasing glint in his dark eyes. "Lost in the world of Venomous Tentacula again, love?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine.

I swatted playfully at his hand, a smile tugging at my lips. "These Bulbadox Bulbs are more stubborn than they look," I grumbled.

He chuckled, leaning closer. "Maybe they just need the right touch," he murmured, his breath warm on my ear.

Before I could react, he reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against the offending passage. A jolt of electricity shot through me, my heart skipping a beat. He lingered for a moment too long, his touch sending goosebumps erupting across my skin.

"See?" he said, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Sometimes understanding comes from a different kind of connection."

His words were a playful jab, but the intensity of his gaze held a deeper meaning. I felt my cheeks flush, a secret smile spreading across my face.

"Maybe," I replied, unable to tear my gaze from his.

The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken emotions. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, Mattheo leaned in further. His lips brushed against the sensitive skin of my neck, sending a wave of warmth cascading through me.

It was a soft, lingering exploration. He trailed a finger down my neck, sending shivers dancing across my exposed skin. My breath hitched in my throat, and I leaned back into his touch, a helpless moan escaping my lips.

He chuckled against my skin, a low, throaty sound that sent a delicious tremor through me. "You should see the way you blush, Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

My cheeks burned even hotter. This wasn't the stolen kiss under the moonlight, this was something more intimate, more raw. It was a secret shared between us, a confirmation of the growing connection that thrummed beneath the surface.

Suddenly, the library door slammed open, shattering the intimate moment. Madam Pince, the stern librarian, swept in, her beady eyes scanning the room. Mattheo and I both straightened up, a sheepish grin on his face.

"No hanky-panky in the Restricted Section, young man," Madam Pince barked, her voice laced with suspicion.

Mattheo, ever the charmer, flashed her a boyish grin. "Just helping a friend with her research, Madam Pince," he said, his voice dripping with mock innocence.

Madam Pince narrowed her eyes at us for a moment longer before muttering something about "frivolous students" and disappearing behind a towering bookshelf.

As soon as she was gone, Mattheo let out a low whistle, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Looks like we've been caught," he said, a hint of regret in his voice.

I couldn't help but laugh, the tension broken. "Maybe we should stick to the Herbology section next time," I teased, butterflies still fluttering in my stomach from his touch.

He took my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine. "Maybe," he agreed, his eyes holding mine. "But who knows what secrets lurk in the Restricted Section?"

Suddenly, a voice broke through my concentration. "Y/N!"

I looked up to see Charlie Spinnet standing awkwardly in front of me, a hopeful smile plastered on his face. My stomach lurched, a flicker of unease coursing through me.

"Charlie," I stammered, unsure of what to say.

"Hey," he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Before I could answer, mattheo’s voice cut in, laced with a dangerous edge.

"Actually, she can't," Mattheo drawled, His eyes narrowed at Charlie, a dark glint flickering within them.

Charlie gulped, his hopeful smile faltering. "M-Mattheo," he stammered. "I just wanted to…"

"Whatever it is," Mattheo interrupted, his voice low and cold, "it can wait."

The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife. My heart hammered against my ribs, caught between the awkwardness of Charlie's unexpected presence and the possessiveness radiating from Mattheo.

"But—" Charlie began, but Mattheo cut him off again.

"No buts, Spinnet," Mattheo said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Now, if you'll excuse us,"

He took my hand possessively, his fingers wrapping around mine with a force that left no room for argument. Before Charlie could stammer another word, Mattheo practically dragged me away.

We walked in silence for a moment, the only sound our hurried footsteps echoing through the empty corridor. My cheeks burned with a mixture of annoyance and a strange sense of… satisfaction?

"Mattheo, that was a bit harsh," I finally said, breaking the silence.

He stopped abruptly, turning to face me. His gaze was intense, a storm brewing within its depths.

"He shouldn't have bothered you," he said, his voice low and possessive.

"He was just trying to talk to me," I pointed out, a hint of defiance creeping into my voice.

"And what exactly did he want to talk about?" Mattheo challenged, his jaw clenched.

"I don't know," I admitted, shrugging my shoulders. "But I should have been allowed to find out, shouldn't I?"

Mattheo seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment, his emotions flickering across his face. Finally, he sighed, the tension slowly ebbing away.

"Look," he said, his voice softer now, "I just… don't like the idea of someone else getting close to you."

My heart skipped a beat. Was he… jealous?

"Why not?" I couldn't help but ask, a teasing smile playing on my lips.

He hesitated – a rare sight that sent a thrill through me.

"Because…" he stammered, searching for the right words. "Because maybe you mean more to me than I care to admit."

The words hung in the air. A smile bloomed on my face, wider than it had in weeks.

"Is that so, Riddle?" I said, my voice barely a whisper.

He met my gaze, his eyes filled with a newfound vulnerability. Leaning in closer, he brushed a stray strand of hair from my face with his thumb.

"Maybe it is," he murmured, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to mine.

Before we could explore that maybe any further, a loud cough echoed through the corridor. We sprang apart, startled, to see a smirking Enzo leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed.

"Oh please don’t let me stop you ," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Mattheo scowled, his usual bravado returning. "Get lost, Enzo," he snapped.

Enzo, unfazed, simply chuckled. "Just making sure you're not neglecting your studies, brother dearest," he said, his voice dripping with mock concern. "Professor Flitwick wouldn't be happy if he caught you missing his lecture because you can’t keep your hands to yourself those days "

My cheeks burned even hotter. "We weren't… ," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

Enzo chuckled. "Whatever you say, sweetheart . But don't worry, your secret's safe with me." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Though, if you're looking for a more private place next time, I know a few hidden alcoves that are perfect for… well, you get the idea."

"Thanks, Enzo," I said smiling trying to get away from this conversation as fast as possible .

"Anytime," he replied, throwing a playful two-finger salute before disappearing back down the corridor.

Mattheo and I stared at each other for a long moment, the tension thick in the air.

"I think I need to go …" I began, unsure how to proceed “ see you at ummm….”

"...Great Hall," Mattheo finished my sentence, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment. Though his earlier possessiveness had surprised me, I couldn't deny a flicker of warmth at his reluctance to see me go.

"Yeah, the Great Hall," I confirmed, unable to meet his gaze for too long. The lingering confession, the stolen moment almost-kiss, hung heavy between us.

As I sank deeper into the worn armchair, a group of giggling Gryffindor girls approached, their chatter drawing my attention.

"Y/N!" Lavender Brown announced, her voice bright with excitement. "Did you hear? There's supposed to be a total lunar eclipse tonight!"

My heart skipped a beat. A lunar eclipse? A shiver of excitement ran down my spine. For the first time in years, I hadn't even been aware of such an event. But more importantly, they were inviting me.

Parvati Patil chimed in, her dark eyes sparkling. "We're all planning to gather near the lake to watch. It's supposed to be incredible! Are you coming?"

"I…" I stammered, unsure how to respond.

"Oh, come on, Y/N," Padma, Parvati's twin, nudged me playfully. "It'll be fun! We can all gossip and make wishes under the moonlight."

A lump formed in my throat. It was a simple question, but it felt monumental. An invitation to not just witness a celestial phenomenon, but to be included, to be a part of something.

For a moment, I simply stared at them, my mind struggling to process the shift. Was this real? Did they genuinely want me to join them?

"I don't know," I mumbled, looking down at my shoes. "Maybe…"

"Don't worry, Y/N," Lavender reassured me, sensing my hesitation. "It's up to you. But if you do decide to come, we'd love to have you."

With a warm smile, they turned to leave, their excited chatter fading as they descended the stairs. I watched them go, a wave of indecisiveness washing over me.

The rest of day went by quickly as I was still thinking about the invitation then mattheo I looked around searching for him

I spotted him by the courtyard, leaning against a stone pillar, his usual air of nonchalance masking a hint of concern. As I approached, he pushed himself off the pillar and met my gaze.

"Hey," he said, his voice laced with a question as his eyes scanned my face.

"Hi, Mattheo," I replied hesitantly.

"Everything alright?" he asked, his brow furrowed. He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from my eye with a gentle touch .

Taking a deep breath, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "There's a lunar eclipse tonight, did you know?"

He blinked, surprised by the abrupt change of subject. "A lunar eclipse?" he echoed.

"Yeah," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Apparently, it's supposed to be the biggest one in years. Everyone's going down by the Black Lake to watch it."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Everyone, huh?" he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Well," I admitted, feeling my cheeks flush, "not everyone. But some people. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil invited me, and…"

I trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence. Did I dare ask him to join me?

"And?" Mattheo prompted, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"And," I mumbled, looking down at my shoes, "I was wondering… would you maybe want to come with me?"

The playful smile vanished, replaced by a look of genuine surprise. "With you?" he echoed.

I looked back up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "Yeah," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "If you want to, of course."

He held my gaze for a long moment, the silence stretching between us. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, warm and genuine.

"I'd like that very much, love ," he said, his voice a low rumble.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues of orange and pink, I made my way towards the Black Lake. The crisp autumn air buzzed with excited chatter as students from all houses gathered, blankets and snacks in tow, eager to witness the celestial spectacle.

A warm hand brushed against mine, sending a jolt through my system. Turning, I met Mattheo's gaze, a spark of amusement dancing in his eyes. He wore a casual smirk, but the way his hand lingered on mine spoke volumes.

he breathed, taking in the scene before him. "Didn't expect the whole school to be here."

I chuckled. "Apparently, lunar eclipses are kind of a big deal."

We weaved through the crowd, Lavender and Parvati waving to us over Theo , Enzo even Blaise was there too that was really unexpected . We settled in, surrounded by the cheerful chatter and laughter.

As the moon began to cast its silvery glow, a hush fell over the crowd. Everyone turned their eyes skyward, captivated by the gradual darkening of Earth's natural satellite. Mattheo, however, seemed more interested in me than the moon. His hand brushed mine again, sending a delicious shiver down my spine.

Leaning closer, he whispered in my ear, his voice husky and warm. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

I nodded, unable to tear my gaze from his face. "It is," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

He tilted his head slightly, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to mine. Just as I thought he was about to kiss me, his voice dipped even lower.

"come with me. "

The surprise on my face must have been evident. "Where?" I stammered.

he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "Trust me, it'll be worth it."

We walked for what felt like an eternity, the only sounds the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional rustle in the bushes. The air grew thicker the deeper we ventured, and a sense of unease gnawed at the edges of my excitement. Just as I was about to voice my concerns, Mattheo came to a stop in front of a section of gnarled oak trees, their branches intertwined in an almost unnatural way.

"Here?" I asked, eyeing the dense foliage with suspicion.

He smirked, his eyes gleaming in the faint moonlight that filtered through the canopy. "Here," he confirmed, stepping forward and pushing aside a thick curtain woven from the very leaves themselves.

To my astonishment, a hidden passage unfolded behind the makeshift doorway. A narrow path, barely wide enough for two people, stretched into the darkness, illuminated faintly by glowing mushrooms that dotted the damp stone walls.

My initial apprehension warred with the budding trust I felt for Mattheo. Taking a deep breath, I gripped his hand tighter. "What is it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Just trust me," he murmured, his touch surprisingly gentle.

We walked in silence, the air growing colder and the earthy scent more pronounced. The path eventually led to a sturdy wooden door hidden within the rocky wall. Mattheo pushed it open, revealing a sight that took my breath away.

It was a small, circular room, but its crowning glory was a large, arched window that took up most of one wall. Through it, the eclipse was on full display, the shadowed moon hanging in the inky black sky. But unlike the darkness of the forest, here, the view was clear and breathtaking

I breathed, my surprise echoing in the stillness of the night.

Mattheo chuckled, a hint of pride in his voice. "Told you it was worth it."

"This is…" I stammered, searching for the right words. "Amazing."

Mattheo smiled, his hand moving to brush a stray curl from my face. “We found this place a while back," he explained. "It's kind of a secret."

He pulled me towards the window, his arm wrapping around my waist, stood behind me , gazing up at the celestial phenomenon unfolding above us. The darkness, once menacing, now seemed like a vast, inky canvas upon which the eclipse played out.

"It's even more breathtaking from here, isn't it?" Mattheo whispered, his voice warm against my ear. , his words laced with something more than just the wonder of the eclipse.

I could only nod, my throat suddenly dry. The beauty of the celestial spectacle was undeniable, but it paled in comparison to the feelings Mattheo was stirring within me.

A warmth bloomed in my chest, a response that surprised even me. Mattheo's presence, so close and unexpected in this hidden haven, sent a delicious shiver down my spine.

As if sensing my shift, his arm tightened around my waist, pulling me closer. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the backdrop of the crackling fire.

Then, his lips brushed against my ear again. This time, the words were different. Softer, more intimate. "You're even more breathtaking," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down my neck.

My eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze reflected in the moonlight filtering through the window. The eclipse, forgotten for a moment, seemed to cast an ethereal glow on his features, highlighting the intensity in his eyes.

Before I could form a coherent thought, his lips met mine. The kiss was tentative at first, a soft exploration that sent a wave of warmth through me. Instinctively, I reached up, my fingers finding purchase on his arm.

A contented sigh escaped his lips as he deepened the kiss, his hand finding mine and intertwining our fingers. The touch sent a jolt through me, a current of electricity that ignited a fire within.

When he finally pulled away, a breathless gasp escaped my lips. My cheeks burned, my heart hammered a wild rhythm against my ribs. A shy smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

His gaze never left mine.He leaned down again, his lips trailing a path of fire down my neck. He paused at a sensitive spot just below my ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

Unable to hold back a moan, I arched my neck into his touch, a silent plea for more. His hand reached down, skimming the curve of my hip before settling lightly on my lower back as I felt the wall behind us

He was going to stop I know that he was going to hold back again "Wait," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. Looking into his eyes, I saw a storm of emotions – frustration, amusement. It was a look that made my heart skip a beat, a look that made me feel a dangerous mix of power and surrender.

"I want to " I stammered, unsure how to articulate the jumbled mess of emotions swirling within me.

"You sure?" he asked, his voice husky with suppressed desire.

Taking a deep breath, I blurted out, "I want this, Mattheo. I mean…I've never done this before, but I trust you. And I want it."

"Let's take things slow, alright?" He whispered softly in my ear and i nodded, his lips finding their way back to my neck, tracing over the mark he had just left behind.

"Mattheo," I moaned when he nipped at the same spot again, his teeth sharp and his lips unyielding.

"God my name sounds like heaven from your lips" he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear.

"Have you ever touched yourself, love?" His question caught me off guard, my breath catching in my throat as I shook my head. I had wanted to try but never mustered the courage.

"It's okay, my love," he reassured, his hands sliding under my top, caressing my skin with a tender touch that sent shivers down my spine.Then he gently pushed me up, settling me on the nearest table. "I'll take care of you."

Pressing more kisses to my neck, his hands moved to my hips, his fingers digging into my skin as he lifted my skirt slightly. "Is this alright?" he asked, his breath hot against my neck.I smiled at him and nodded again

“I’m going to touch you now, Just tell me when you want to stop, and I promise I’ll end it,” said with determination, his fingers brushing my cheek i nodded leaned forward to kiss him instead of just responding.

He did as he told , his fingers sliding into my pants proceeded slowly, finding my most sensitive spot, eliciting pleasurable sensations that made me arch my back and cling to him.

slowly rubbing circles around it. He used light pressure, but it felt amazing. His gaze intently watched my response, figuring out what i like.

He picked up the pace and pressure, sending pleasurable shocks through my body. my back arched as the ache between my legs increased. 

“God you’re so wet for me." he whispered, his voice filled with awe and desire. "Does it feel good?"

“ Yes , it feels so good.” I moaned softly, my voice barely audible as waves of pleasure washed over me.

"Can I?" he asked, seeking my consent.

"Yes, please," I begged, my desperation evident in my voice.

"It might feel strange at first, but I promise it will get better quickly," he reassured, and I nodded in agreement. With my consent, his finger slid between my folds, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. My hands found their way to his shoulders as I rested my head against them.

"Breathe, my love," he whispered, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of pleasure. I obeyed, inhaling deeply as a symphony of moans escaped my mouth, each one a testament to the pleasure coursing through my body.

"Mattheo," I moaned, his name a mantra on my lips.

"Yes, love. Talk to me," he encouraged, his movements slowing to allow me to catch my breath.

"There's something..." I tried to say, but pleasure engulfed me, leaving me speechless.

His lips found mine, his kisses distracting me from my thoughts as I succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure he offered.

"Just let go for me," he whispered against my lips, his breath igniting a fire within me that sent me spiraling into bliss.

His thumb applied pressure to my clit, sending electrifying waves of pleasure through my body. I gripped his shoulder tightly as he carefully added another finger, causing me to close my eyes in ecstasy.

"Don't close your eyes, love. Look at me," he urged, his voice filled with desire and a hint of command. I obeyed, locking eyes with him as his fingers found that specific spot inside me, unleashing a sensation I had never experienced before. It was so intense that I couldn't contain my scream of pleasure, feeling like I was soaring among the clouds.

He continued to target that spot, his gaze fixed on me as if he could read my every reaction. With a satisfied smile, he spoke soft words in my ear , reveling in my response.

His touch remained gentle yet firm, guiding me through the waves of pleasure until I reached the pinnacle, my body trembling in his embrace as I experienced a euphoric release unlike anything before.

"It's alright, I'm here," he murmured, his words a soothing balm as I surrendered to the pleasure that consumed me.

As I floated back to reality, I found myself in his arms, his gaze filled with tenderness and adoration. He leaned in, capturing my lips in a deep, passionate kiss that spoke volumes of unspoken emotions.

"Maybe you mean more to me than I care to admit too , riddle," I repeated his earlier words. But what I truly wanted to express was that, ,I think I'm in love with you, Mattheo Riddle.’

From that night onward, everything shifted, and my life transformed into a fairy tale. The intensity of my feelings for him grew so profound that a day without seeing Mattheo felt like an eternity, leaving me yearning for his presence. He cherished me as if I were the most precious gem in his life, and to say that I loved him would be an understatement; my emotions ran deeper than mere words could express.

Despite our unspoken declarations of love, we refrained from exploring further sexual intimacy after that intense encounter. However, the desire and longing between us only grew stronger, leaving me yearning for more moments of intimacy with him. Each kiss, touch, and gaze across the room spoke volumes of the love we shared, even if the three words were never verbalized.

The end-of-year party hosted by Slytherin was a legendary affair, whispered about in hushed tones by those who had attended in previous years. Despite hearing countless tales about the extravagant festivities, I had never been tempted to go, for me, it had always been an off-limits fantasy , one I didn't dare to try and make true.

As the "jinx girl", stepping foot into such a renowned event felt like a risky move. The thought of facing judgment, scrutiny, and potentially being ostracized by my peers held me back from even considering attending.

However, in those few months everything changed. I found myself shedding my inhibitions and fears, stepping out of my comfort zone and embracing new experiences. The bonds I formed with other Slytherins grew stronger, and I even made friends outside of Mattheo's circle, feeling more at ease and confident in social settings.

The Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry was as legendary as the end-of-year party itself. This year, however, a shared misfortune had united the two houses in a grudging camaraderie. Professor Flitwick, bless his innocent heart, had stumbled upon Blaise Zabini and a very surprised Gryffindor tangled together in a rather compromising position in a dusty basement corridor. Let's just say, both houses lost a significant number of points, paving the way for Ravenclaw to snatch the coveted House Cup in a landslide victory.

So, as the day of the party approached, a thrill of anticipation danced in my stomach.

"Mattheo," I said, catching his attention as I approached him and his friends. He gently guided me to sit next to him, holding my hands with a tender touch

“ yes love ? “

"Are we… are we going to the party tonight?" I asked, trying to gauge his reaction.

He looked up, surprise flickering across his face. "The party?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow. "You… you want to go?"

I felt a flicker of self-consciousness, but I held his gaze. "Yeah," I admitted.

“Honestly, Y/N," he said, "it's a bit… childish."

"Childish?" I repeated, surprised. "But everyone says it's a lot of fun!"

Enzo, chimed in with a shrug. "He has a point. It's mostly just first years causing mayhem."

There it was , that hesitation. Mattheo rarely said no to anything I asked.

He studied me for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. He glanced at Enzo, exchanging a silent communication that left me puzzled.I don’t really understand I know they used to go every year .

He looked at me for a long moment, his dark eyes searching mine. Then, a slow smile spread across his face.

"Alright then love ," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "If you want to, then we'll go."

The Slytherin common room was a whirlwind of emerald and silver. Green streamers snaked across the ceiling, enchanted banners proclaimed Slytherin victory in various forgotten contests, and a cacophony of music and laughter filled the air. My heart pounded with excitement, a delightful mix of anticipation and nerves.

The atmosphere was vibrant, filled with laughter and music. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to have me there, chatting and mingling as if I had been a regular attendee for years.

However, what struck me as odd was how Mattheo and Enzo never left my side. It was as if they were guarding me, anticipating something that I wasn't aware of. Despite their usual easygoing demeanor, there was a sense of alertness in their actions that left me curious and slightly uneasy.

As the night progressed, I couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched, not in a malicious way, but more like a protective gaze. Mattheo and Enzo's constant presence by my side felt both comforting and unsettling at the same time.

I tried to brush off my unease and enjoy the party, engaging in conversations and joining in on the festivities. However, the nagging feeling that something was amiss lingered in the back of my mind.

It wasn't until later in the evening, when Mattheo and Enzo exchanged a meaningful glance, that I realized there was more to their protective behavior than met the eye.

Chaos erupted in the common room as Charlie Spinnet, stormed towards Mattheo. "Get her out of here now ," he growled, jabbing a finger in my direction. "Or I'll do it myself."

Before Mattheo could respond, the room fell silent. A Slytherin seventh-year, Adrian Pucey, stood on a nearby table, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hold on there, Spinnet ," he boomed, his voice cutting through the tension. "This year, we're doing something a little different… a play!"

A cheer erupted from the Slytherins, many of them eager for a change from the usual prank wars. Mattheo , however, remained unconvinced. He narrowed his eyes at Adrian, suspicion etched on his face.

As the play began, I couldn't help but notice the similarities between my name and the name of the girl portrayed in the story. It didn't take long for me to realize that the play was about a jinxing girl, and it described in vivid detail everything I had confided in Mattheo about my family and my troubled past at the lake that night.

Panic clawed at my throat. I stole a glance at Mattheo, but his face was a mask. He reached out a hand towards me, but I flinched back instinctively .

The room fell silent, every eye glued to me and the unfolding drama.

Onstage, the actress portraying me continued, her voice dripping with drama. "…driven by ambition, she stole her brother's place, but a terrible curse followed. Wherever she goes, misfortune befalls those around her. She's the jinx girl, a harbinger of bad luck!"

A collective gasp rippled through the room. Whispers erupted like flames, spreading fear and suspicion. I felt them scorching my skin, their judgment a suffocating weight on my chest.

Suddenly, a new scene unfolded on stage. A group of actors, portraying Hogwarts students, stood center stage. "Here's the dare," boomed one, a mock sense of bravery in his voice. "The boy who approaches the jinx girl and brings her to the party… wins!"

Suddenly, a commotion arose from the back of the room. Enzo and Theodore Nott , their faces grim, pushed their way through the crowd towards the makeshift stage. "Stop this!" Enzo said, his voice laced with fury. "This is out of line, Pucey!"

The actors scrambled off the stage, bewildered and slightly scared. The common room dissolved into chaos. Accusatory whispers turned into heated arguments. Pity and fear flickered in averted gazes. I even overheard someone mutter, "Did she really kill her brother?"

The roar of the party faded behind me as I sprinted down the Slytherin common room's hidden corridor, tears stinging my eyes despite my desperate efforts to hold them back. Mattheo's voice calling after me, pleading, only fueled my desperate need to escape.

"Y/N, please!" he shouted, but I ignored him, my feet pounding a relentless rhythm against the cold stone floor.

"Y/N!" he called again, his voice closer this time. Panic surged through me, lending me fresh bursts of energy.

Just as I reached the portrait leading out to the dungeons, a strong hand clamped onto my arm. I spun around, ready to lash out, but it was him – Mattheo, his face etched with a desperate worry I'd never seen before.

He tried to reach for my hand, but I recoiled violently. "Don't you dare touch me!" I screamed, my voice raw with hurt and betrayal.

He flinched, his hand hovering awkwardly in mid-air. "Y/N, love, just hear me out," he pleaded.

"Love?" I spat the word back at him, incredulous. "Don't call me that." The weight of everything that had just happened crashed down on me. The staged play, the public humiliation, the sickening realization that it had all been a dare.

"It's not what it seems like," he stammered, trying to explain. "I—"

"You what?" I interrupted, my voice rising. "It was all a lie, wasn't it? "

"No, no, I swear," he said urgently. "Everything that happened between us was real. My feelings for you…" His voice trailed off, his eyes pleading for me to understand.

But the damage was done. The carefully constructed trust – it had all crumbled to dust in the face of this cruel betrayal.

"Don't," I choked out, tears finally spilling down my cheeks. "Don't lie to me anymore."

A sob escaped my lips, and despite the anger burning within me, a part of me ached for the connection I thought we shared.

"Just give me a chance to explain," he pleaded, but I shook my head, unable to bear the sight of him anymore.

The truth, however distorted, was clear. "Wouldn't you deny it was a dare?" I challenged him, a flicker of defiance sparking in my tear-filled eyes.

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. For the first time, I saw a flicker of genuine pain cross Mattheo's usually guarded features.

"No," he finally admitted, and I felt a wave of numbness wash over me.

As I turned to walk away, he continued, "It was at first, but I swear that from that night at the Broomsticks, everything was real. I even forgot about that stupid dare. Everything that happened between us was real, you know that."

I scoffed, wiping angrily at my tears. "I don't know anything anymore," I said.

"Foolish me. That's why you didn't want Charlie to talk to me that day, wasn't it? Because he was going to expose you?"

""No, Y/N, I just didn't want you to get hurt __“

"You what?" I cut him off again, my voice trembling with fury. "How generous of you," I said sarcastically. "But look, you win now, Riddle. Won't you go celebrate? It was their dare,"

"I don't care about anyone else but you," he said fiercely.

I stared at him, incredulous. "Then why does it feel like you care about everything else more than me right now?"

He took a hesitant step forward, but I didn't back away this time. I met his gaze head-on, my heart a tangled mess of emotions.

"I can't lose you," he whispered, his voice filled with desperation.

"You already have," I said, the words like shards of glass in my mouth. I wanted to hurt him, to make him feel even a fraction of the pain I was experiencing.

"I ___ i love you," he confessed, the words hanging heavy in the air.

Love. The very word felt like a mockery.

I looked him straight in the eye, my voice surprisingly calm despite the storm raging within me. "And I hate you, Mattheo Riddle," I said, each word laced with the bitter taste of betrayal.

With that final declaration, I turned away, leaving him standing alone in the darkened corridor, the portrait swinging shut behind me.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅

[another-random-paradise]

Hello everything is fine? I just found your account and I'm already in love!!!

I loved your sleepy confession writing post, if it doesn't bother you and only if you want, could you do it for Kalim, Jamil and Ruggie? They are so cute!!! >w<

Oh, and sorry if the English is wrong, it's not my first language...

An even sleepier confession

Thank you for the request and the sweet words!! And don’t worry about your English, it’s great! Plus, it isn’t my first language either, so i get the struggle, haha! :)

——————————————————————————————————

Crush!Reader sleepily telling him, they want to marry him / part one

Characters: Kalim, Jamil, Ruggie

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: None that i can think off

Kalim 

-Chances are, you were at one of his party’s, stayed late, and are too tired to go back to ramshackle 

-so, Kalim being Kalim, annoys convinces Jamil to let you two have a sleepover. The absolute energy boost Kalim gets after getting permission already makes Jamil regret his decision..

-after a long night of story telling (with how many siblings Kalim has, he definitely always has tea to spill), pillow fights, and movie marathons, you finally decide to go to sleep, much to Jamils relief

-Just before you two fall asleep though, you unconsciously make one last comment “Life is always so fun with you, really makes me wanna marry you one day..”

-If you thought you’d get any sleep after a comment like that, you’re wrong! Because Kalim is now wide awake and practically yelling in excitement 

-He’d be asking you if you really meant it, before talking about how you’ll have to meet his family first, especially all his siblings! They’ll love you!! Why don’t you come with him over the next Holidays?! All while being all over you, kind of like an exited puppy are those ears and a tail??, meanwhile you’re just sitting there like ‘oh shit, I said that out loud?!’ 

-It’ll only get worse if you confirm that, yes, you do, in fact, want to be with him and maybe, hopefully, marry him one day 

-Jamil storms in, thinking you two were getting assassinated or something, only to see Kalim hugging you, practically shaking in excitement, talking about all the dates he’ll take you on (and about your wedding of course)

-you sheepishly look over at Jamil, who is staring daggers into you, the message clear ‘you couldn’t have waited until morning?’. If looks could kill, Jamil would have cut you into a three course meal just now :D 

-Jamil tells him to quiet down, so the rest of the dorm can rest

-Kalim continues to whisper-yell, till eventually you two fall asleep cuddling 

-the next day, half the school already knows about your now relationship, partially because the entirety of scarabia could hear him, and partially because Kalim can’t keep his mouth shut-

-He is so hung up on that marriage comment, that he might accidentally introduce you as his fiancée a few times!

Jamil

-you, being the kind soul that you are, probably decided to help him out with his chores around Scarabia 

-But unlike him, you aren’t used to so much work, No matter how much Crowley tries to overwork you so eventually you’re just straight up exhausted.

-Jamil brings you to one of the many couches, but he makes sure it’s one away from the business of the dorm, he wouldn’t want you to be disturbed while you sleep he cares to much about you for that

-He picks up the few dirty plates some other students left behind, as you get comfortable, which is a very easy task, considering all those silk blankets and soft pillows! You mumble something a mere second before falling asleep. “You’re so caring, Jamil… makes me want to marry you even more than i already to..”

-Jamil halts in his tracks, he almost drops the plates he was carrying! Partially because he’s flustered, but also because a part of him hoped you wouldn’t like him back and the crush would pass.. not that it ever would have

-He is lost in thought as he makes his way to the kitchen, he almost even runs into another student

-Jamil likes you, he really does, there’s no doubt there, but he’s worried more than anything. He doesn’t have time for love!

-not only would you distract him from keeping Kalim from accidentally getting himself killed, but his work would mean that he’d have little to no time to spend with you.. not to mention if you get married, you and your future children would be forced to work for the Asim family too- Unless..

-If he takes you’re last name, instead of him yours, neither of you would be a part of the Viper name any longer. Instead of him enslaving you into service, you could free him from his life of servitude.

-And you always find ways to hang out, despite how busy he is

-He continues to work, now with a smile on his face. 

-Maybe this could work out after all :)

Ruggie

-Another one who you were probably helping with work

-Usually he’d refuse help, he doesn’t want to be indebted to anyone, but hey, it’s an excuse to spend more time with you, so he’ll make an exception 

-Afterwards, your beat.. even after book 3 and knowing him for a while, you never could have guessed how much work just one certain Lion could make.

-He lays down next to you, either making a sarcastic or teasing comment as he does.

-As always, you laugh in response, but this time you follow it up with “You’re a great guy, you know that? I hope i get to marry you one day..”

-His usual smug smirk, is gone. Just like that. It’s replaced by absolute shock

-He turns to you, to question you about it, only to see you’re already in the land of dreams 

-Ruggie doesn’t know how to feel, He is shocked, flustered, and most of all, confused. Yes, he is happy that you like him back, it just confuses him.

-You’re in a school filled with rich guys and literal Royalty. So, by the seven, why would you like a guy like him? Especially since your first meeting was literally him stealing a sandwich from your son friend! 

-But it makes him smile, in a school filled with rich people, someone as amazing as you, still chooses him, so he must be really great, right?

-Now he’s even more determined to get a good job, so that he can give you and your possible children a good life!

-He just hopes his Grandma and the kids will like you.. nah, he’s sure they will, you’re you! 

-He won’t immediately make his move to ask you out, but he’s definitely working on it! He would be a bit more hesitant about asking you out (Even after you basically asked to marry him) if you’re a girl, as in nature male hyenas are naturally more submissive towards the female they’re trying to court 

This was so much fun to write, thank you so much for the request!!

Feedback is welcomed, just please be nice!! Hope you all have a nice day <3

[yuquinzel]

[ 8:37 pm ] — miya atsumu.

the clock reads 8:37 pm, exactly 14 seconds to 38 and atsumu is painfully aware of each long, dragging and excruciatingly endless second because it's been exactly 4 hours, 19 minutes and 12 seconds since you left on him read.

he's currently laid on his bed, in his dimly lit room where the only source of illumination is the faint fluorescent glow of his mobile screen.

he's frowning, brows furrowed at the dull ‘seen 4hrs ago’ in anticipation because at any second now he'll see the ‘typing...’ indication and he doesn't wanna be late to reply.

atsumu is a fast and an energetic texter. he sends you at least 14 cat videos with the “ur the third one” message immediately after each. or he sends you those ‘ask your friend which hour of the day you are’ followed by a “you. blue hour” hopefully awaiting your reply because he needs to know if you think he's the golden hour or not.

y/n 🛐: you're definitely the golden hour then lol

the better twin: damn. didn't expect that.

he actually did. hoped for it in fact. he thinks about it for the next week.

you're not the type to leave people on seen for more than 5 minutes. at least not him. you reply as quick as you can with the same energy as him and have a habit of liking his rather funny texts from time to time.

so he's more confused than upset right now, thinking of all possible reasons you could've read his messages but were unable to reply. he hasn't seen you since last friday when you told him about a week long road trip with your family. his frown only deepens when the clock hits 8:40 and there's no sign of a reply from you.

he's beginning to type a quick “are u good?” when his screen flashes with a call. your contact name. the phone rings in atsumu's hand but his fingers are frozen.

you're calling him.

you don't like phone calls.

atsumu clears his throat because he doesn't want you to hear him squeal with excitement, but he's giggling and kicking his feet, running a hand over his heart and rubbing his eyes to make sure it really is you. he lets the phone ring for a mere seconds before picking it up, “oh hey” he hopes it's as casual as he thinks.

the moment he hears you speak from the other side, atsumu knows he has lost, “ATSUMU! I'm so sorry for leaving you on read. i was in the car and battery fucking died before i could reply and i lost my charger!” you're chasing after your own words, each cut by the next one.

“oh, nah that's fine. so ya found yer charger?” he groans internally at his words, but truthfully he doesn't know what to say.

of course you didn't willingly leave him on read. of course you're calling him now because you don't want him to think otherwise. of course your words are rushed, you've always been that way.

“oh, right yeah. i got home and charged it as soon as I could” you laugh with a newfound sense of relief.

atsumu blinks, “yer home already? weren'tcha coming this sunday??” he asks.

“ohh, no, we decided to come back earlier”

and the voice call ends, leaving you confused.

it's 9:29 pm and there's a knocking at your door, hastened and impatient, the way you know someone always knocks.

“’tsumu? wait, why are you here at this hour?” you ask, wide eyes set on the setter in front of you panting like he ran a marathon.

“ya said you were back and ya must be tired so i gotcha ice cream—” he breathes out, gesturing to the bag in his hand, “—gee, coulda told me you were comin’ back today, when'd ya get here anyway? how was the trip? did ya take pictures?—”

“atsumu” you say softly, and he pauses, “breathe ”

atsumu lives about 45 minutes away, 15 if he takes the car but as he's panting right now, you know he's ran all the way here. and if he stopped by the convenience store down the street and still get here in time, you're sure he needs at least a minute to breathe.

he smiles one of his boyish, princely smiles, “also got that movie ya wanted ta watch”

“i thought you'd have watched it already?”

“wanted ta watch it with you” he's giggling with excitement you know he's trying to hide.

“okay” you laugh, grabbing his hand to pull him inside.

“okay” he repeats.

© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

[vilentia]

A Second Chance

George Weasley x reader

The war was over. The celebrations had come and gone, and the wizarding world was slowly finding its feet again. Diagon Alley was bustling once more, laughter and chatter filling the cobbled streets. But behind the walls of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, the laughter didn’t reach George.

The shop was a shadow of its former self, the once lively and chaotic atmosphere subdued. George moved through the aisles, mechanically restocking shelves, his heart not in it. Every joke, every trick, every bit of magic felt empty without Fred.

You watched him from the doorway, your heart aching for him. George had always been the life of the party, but now he seemed like a ghost, a mere echo of the person he used to be. You wanted to help him, to pull him out of the darkness, but you didn’t know how. All you knew was that you loved him, and that had to be enough.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped inside. “Hey, George,” you said softly, trying to catch his attention.

He looked up, his eyes tired but softening when they met yours. “Hey,” he replied, his voice lacking its usual warmth. “What are you doing here?”

You smiled gently. “I came to see you. Thought maybe you could use a break.”

George’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he said quietly, looking away.

You moved closer, reaching out to take his hand. “George, please. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

He flinched at your touch but didn’t pull away. “I don’t know how to do anything else,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “Everything I do, everywhere I go, I see him. I hear him. I can’t... I can’t escape it.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at his words. “You don’t have to escape it, George. Fred’s always going to be a part of you. But you can’t let his death take you too.”

George looked at you, his eyes searching yours. “How?” he asked, his voice a whisper. “How do I move on?”

You squeezed his hand, your heart aching for him. “One step at a time,” you said softly. “And you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here, George. I’ll always be here.”

He stared at you for a long moment before pulling you into his arms, holding you tightly. You wrapped your arms around him, feeling the dam inside him break as he finally let himself cry. You held him, your own tears falling as you whispered soothing words, letting him know he wasn’t alone.

The weeks that followed were hard. George had good days and bad days, but slowly, he began to find his way back. The shop started to regain its former energy, the laughter and chaos returning little by little.

You were his rock, always there to support him, to lift him up when he faltered. And in turn, he began to find strength in your love, finding moments of happiness amidst the grief.

One evening, as the sun set over Diagon Alley, George led you to the rooftop of the shop. The sky was painted in hues of orange and pink, the city below bustling with life.

He turned to you, his eyes soft but determined. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, taking your hands in his. “About everything. About us.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your breath catching. “George…”

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’ve spent so long feeling lost, feeling like I’d never find my way again. But you… you’ve been my light, my anchor. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Tears filled your eyes as you smiled up at him. “You’ll never have to find out,” you whispered.

George’s smile widened, a flicker of the old mischief returning to his eyes. “Marry me,” he said suddenly, his voice filled with hope and love. “Marry me and let’s build a life together, one where we remember Fred but don’t let his memory hold us back.”

You laughed through your tears, nodding. “Yes,” you said, throwing your arms around him. “Yes, George, I’ll marry you.”

He kissed you then, a kiss filled with love and promise, a kiss that spoke of second chances and new beginnings. As you held each other on the rooftop, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you and the love you shared.

And so, step by step, day by day, George began to heal. With you by his side, he found his way out of the darkness, learning to live again, to laugh again. And in time, he found that life could be beautiful once more, filled with love and joy and the promise of a future that was bright and full of possibility.

[fafnir19]

The Bargain

I noticed Maya's agitation for the past few days. She seemed distant, lost in her own thoughts. Concerned, I finally mustered the courage to ask her what was wrong. "Maya, what's been bothering you lately?" I asked, my voice filled with genuine concern. She sighed deeply, gazing down at her hands.

"Tristan, I made a foolish mistake," she confessed, her voice trembling. "I... I summoned a demon to help me pass my exam." My heart skipped a beat. Summoning a demon? That was risky business. "Did it work?" I asked cautiously. She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. "Yes, I passed the exam, but now... now it's time to pay the price." My heart sank, a mixture of sadness and fear flooding my emotions. "What... what's the price?" I stammered, fearing the worst. Maya shook her head, avoiding my gaze. "I... I don't want to talk about it."

Determined to help her, I searched through Maya's belongings and found the summoning materials she used. With trembling hands, I summoned the demon she had called upon, Incedis. A swirl of dark energy appeared before me, materializing into the form of a demon. Incredibly muscular, with fiery red skin and horns that curled elegantly above his head, Incedis gazed at me with piercing crimson eyes. "What do you want, mortal?" he bellowed, his voice booming and menacing. "Please," I pleaded, my voice shaky yet resolute. Summoning all my courage, I looked Incedis in the eye and said, "I'm willing to serve you for a week in the underworld if you release Maya from her debt." The demon laughed, his voice filling the room. "A week? Very well, Tristan. Your sacrifice amuses me. We have a deal." Excitement and trepidation coursed through me as I shared the news with Maya. Maya stared at me, her eyes filled with disbelief. "You did what? You're going to serve in the underworld for a week?" I nodded, determined to show Maya that I would do anything for her. "Yes, I made a deal with Incedis. He agreed to release you from your debt." Maya sighed, a mixture of frustration and affection evident in her voice. "Tristan, I appreciate you trying to help, but my debt was merely my favorite handbag. I never wanted you to go through this."

Days passed, and the agreed-upon time arrived. A magical portal opened before me, and without hesitation, I stepped into the unknown. As I emerged in the underworld, I couldn't help but notice a strange sensation. I felt stronger, more agile than ever before. Then I saw them—horns protruding from my forehead.

Incedis appeared beside me, his menacing aura unyielding. "Well, well, Tristan," Incedis purred, his eyes flickering with amusement. "You look even more tempting with those horns." He ran a finger along one of the spiraling horns that had grown atop my head, sending an unexpected jolt of arousal through my body. Startled, I took a step back, my face flushing. "What... what was that?" Incedis chuckled darkly. "Seems like the underworld has bestowed you with a few gifts, Tristan." He winked impishly before leading me off to my first task. As the days passed in the underworld, I found myself assisting lost souls in their journey to their interrogation rooms. It was a somber task, but the work itself was relatively straightforward. However, on the second day, my duty took a seductive turn. I was restrained in a chair and shown films of powerful men while Incedis stood behind me, caressing my horns. The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through me, building towards an explosive climax. But just as I was on the brink, Incedis would remove his hand, leaving me panting and unsatisfied. This ritual continued on the third day, leaving me both frustrated and bewildered.

But on the fourth day, everything took an unexpected turn. While standing at the gate, a handsome CEO of a large corporation entered, catching my eye. As my body responded with a familiar stir of arousal, Incedis noticed and smirked. "No need to return to the room from the previous days this afternoon," Incedis hissed, his voice dripping with wicked delight. "Congratulations, Tristan. You're officially gay." My mind spun in a whirlwind of confusion and betrayal. But amidst the storm of emotions, one thing remained clear - my determination to prove Incedis wrong. "G-gay? No, that can't be right," I stammered, my voice quivering with denial. "I have a girlfriend, Maya." Incedis laughed, a wicked sound echoing through the underworld. "Are you sure about having a girlfriend, Tristan? See for yourself!" With a flick of his wrist, Incedis conjured a swirling mist that enveloped me, revealing a startling image. Maya, entangled in passionate embrace with my supposed best friend, their bodies moving in rhythmic synchronicity.

The image cut through me like a thousand knives, pain and anger blending into an explosive mixture. "Maya," I whispered, my voice tinged with hurt and betrayal. "How could you?" Incedis licked his lips, relishing in the chaos he had birthed. "Seems you've been mistaken about having a girlfriend, Tristan. And perhaps you're also mistaken about not being gay. Let go of those mortal attachments. Embrace who you truly are." My fists clenched at my sides, my body trembling with conflicting emotions. The world around me blurred as my sight narrowed to focus on Incedis. "No," I hissed through gritted teeth. "I won't let you define me. I won't let you take away my identity." Incedis smirked, unfazed by my defiance. "Very well then, my stubborn mortal. Come with me." Confusion seized me as Incedis snapped his fingers, I found myself dressed in tight leather and silk riding pants that clung to every curve of my body, a velvet shirt open to the waist.

The very fabric seemed to whisper against my skin, igniting a strange and illicit fire within me. I looked down at myself in disbelief. "What is the meaning of this?" I demanded, my voice laced with frustration. "What have you done to me?" Incedis led me through the twisted corridors of the underworld, until we reached a grand temple.

I stood in the dimly lit temple, surrounded by flickering candles that cast dancing shadows on the walls. The air was heavy with anticipation as I faced the demon standing solemnly before the altar, his eyes glowing with an otherworldly fire. It was at this moment that I hesitated, unsure of what I was about to agree to. "Do you want to be a demon of lust and desire for eternity?" the demon asked, his voice reverberating through the room. "If so, seal your agreement with a moan." I opened my mouth to refuse indignantly, to reject this twisted offer that would condemn me to an eternity of debauchery. But before the words could escape my lips, Incedis sensually caressed my horns, causing a wave of pleasure to course through my body. A gasp escaped my lips, and I felt my resistance crumble. Incedis smiled wickedly, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "That's it, Tristan. Give in to your deepest desires." My mind was clouded by an intoxicating cocktail of pleasure and confusion. In that moment, the realization hit me like a bolt of lightning – perhaps my own desires were more complex than I had ever allowed myself to believe. And perhaps, deep down, I yearned for something different, something wild and untamed. As the demon's touch lingered on my horns, I felt a dark hunger stirring within me, a craving for unimaginable pleasure. I tried to fight it, but with every stroke of Incedis's fingers, my resolve crumbled further. Was I truly giving in to temptation? With a voice filled with both mischief and power, Incedis whispered in my ear, "Seal your agreement, Tristan. Embrace your inner demon." The pull was too great, the allure too strong to resist any longer. In a moment of surrender, I let out a moan, a sound that sealed my destiny. The demon before me nodded, a sinister smile playing on his lips. "Welcome, Tristan," Incedis purred. "Welcome to your new existence."

As the words echoed in the temple, the room seemed to shimmer and warp. Reality twisted around me, and when the haze of change cleared, I found myself standing in a different realm. The colors were vivid, the air crackling with an electrifying energy. I had become a demon of lust and desire. My first task awaited me, beckoning me towards a new purpose. I was to enter the dreams of straight men and engage in gay activities with them, to awaken desires they had never known existed.

This was my new reality, a path filled with temptation and forbidden pleasure. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what lay ahead. There was no turning back now. I had become a creature of the night, a vessel for desire. And as I stepped into the swirling dreamscape, I couldn't help but feel a stirring of excitement, a thrill of anticipation. My journey had taken a dark turn, leading me down a path I had never expected. But in this new existence, I would discover truths about myself that I had long buried. But for now, my focus was on the task at hand. The demons within dreams awaited, their secret desires ready to be uncovered. And as I took my first step into the ethereal realm of untapped longing, I couldn't help but wonder – how deep into the abyss of desire would I allow myself to sink?

[gay-dorito-dust]

BAE! I have anoþher idea of isekai reader!

Imagine reader finally meeting Daemon and they have a stand off and its ends up with reader saying "perhaps you haven't realized it yet. The only main reason why your the most unpredictable one is because well.... I wasn't brought here yet"

Both riders are menacing in their own rights and are unpredictable but the queen who never was pops and then reader becames.... "I serve you my liege" because Rhaenys is mother queen✨

Sorry if I come of as annoying, I am just so excited that one of my favorite writers in tumblr had answered my ask! Thank you for that!❤

It’s fine! It’s not annoying at all, promise! 💕

The inevitable meeting between you and Daemon was well…inevitable.

The rouge prince and the conductor of chaos finally meeting eye to eye with both Caraxes and Cannibal a few easily walkable paces behind both riders, just in the instance things went south.

Daemon: you appear out of nowhere and have stoked a fire beneath the people of Westeros and sent them all into a blind panic.

Reader/you: and yet it took you years to do even that. Why bore me when you’re supposedly meant to be raising an army for your wife *chuckles* did Harrenhal scare you stiff rouge prince?

Daemon: bend the knee or-

Reader/you: Or YOuR hOUse buRnS. Yes I’ve headed your threat plenty of times and yet I’m still finding it hard to find the energy to do so.

Daemon isn’t happy with your lack of respect towards him and the lack of obedience but more than anything he hated how you weren’t easily made scared. Everything he says slid off your back or shrugged off with ease it was irritating to say the least.

Daemon: I am the king-

Reader/you: consort. Also for any man who has to say ‘I am the king’ is no true king and besides you lost that chance long ago, so suck it up and endure being in the service of women who have more balls then you ever did for the rest of your miserable life.

Daemon growls, hand already at the hilt of his sword when a third voice intervenes in your little stand off.

Rhaenys: what is going on here.

Reader/you: *bows* it is an honour to meet you, I’m merely talking to a fool.

Rhaenys: *smirks and looks at Daemon* someone who knows how to properly greet someone I see, and while it’s true that he maybe a fool, that fool is unfortunately my kin.

Reader/you: how tragic for you my queen. A true tragedy. *smiles widely* I can gouge out his eyes for you, or clip his vocal cords so he may never speak out of his ass ever again? Or even cut off his dick so his bloodline maybe cut short! Only say the word and I shall have Westeros and all its pathetic lords and ladies with their knees bent before the rise of the new day.

Rhaenys has had heard stories about your unpredictable nature, similar to that of Dameon’s, but somehow even more so with how quick you were to cut off any challenge merely by threats and promises alone. That and perhaps your crazed smile and look in your eye was enough to unease the strongest of men who dared look into them.

Rhaenys could see that fire within your eyes and respected you for that as she smiled.

Rhaenys: I shall keep that in mind should he ever step a single toenail out of line. *glares at Daemon from the corner of her eye*

Daemon: this is between me and them *he points at you with his sword but you merely smile* do not intervene when you are not wanted. Entertain yourself elsewhere.

You and Rhaenys: would that if you were the king.

You: so I’d suggest you get back to Harrenhal and be useless seeing as how your own kin, Jace and Baela, are doing much more in support of Rhaenyra than you.

Daemon: I will-

Rhaenys: come, I’m sure cannibal is restless from staying in stasis for so long.

Reader/ you: coming my queen

You both leave Caraxes and Daemon behind without a second glance.

[karinasbaby]

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 — FORESHADOW (teaser)

"we can still meet, we will connect no matter what"

PAIRING. soulmate!jake x fem!reader

WARNINGS.(will contain) some supernatural stuff, my second miserable attempt at angst & fluff, suggestive content, mentions of family problems/trauma, drinking, fights, cursing, and a lot of one-night stands (for now),

WORD COUNT. 585 (looks away)

in a world where every person is born with numbers of a birthdate engraved in the back of their necks, where every person dreams of their future memories with their other half that the universe had created for them, where on every person's eighteenth birthday they get certain and special initials marked somewhere on their body— all belonging to their soulmate.

sim jaeyun was lost in a daydream,

reminiscing his previous night's memories, heat flooding back to his face as he remembered every second of his dream, he had finally seen his soulmate again,

heart drumming once he recalled how smooth his soulmate's locks felt beneath his fingertips when he carefully raked them through her hair, how soft his soulmate's voice sounded when she called so sweetly for him, just how much her presence affected him even when he never got the chance to see her face properly,

to say that jaeyun was "excited" would be an absolute understatement, the boy was over the moon any and every time he thought about his soulmate, his eyes twinkled whenever the topic of 'soulmates' was brought up around him, loving and longing gaze following every couple he spotted outside, his heart thundering in his chest every night before he went to sleep, will he see his soulmate again tonight?

truth was, jaeyun yearned and craved for a love as pure and tender as his parents' soulmate bond, growing up in a house bursting with affection and joy along with his parents' overflowing love for each other that only seemed to be getting stronger and increasing with each passing decade, only made jaeyun look forward to his own soulmate and how his life would be with her,

how he was so prepared to give all the love in his body to her, spending each and every passing second with his soulmate was something he daydreamed about often, he was so ready to devote himself entirely, body, mind and soul for his soulmate, question was when will he finally meet her?

growing up and hearing myths that got passed around for centuries, the most prevalent one stating that "every person's birth country has a high chance of seventy-five percent of being the same birth country as their soulmate", which resulted in jaeyun refusing to budge away from his birth country, only travelling with his parents for short vacations before he begs them to buy earlier tickets so he can go back,

jaeyun woke up everyday with the phrase "this might be the day that i meet her." ringing in his head continuously till night, finding a different kind of energy that motivates him throughout his day at the mere possibility of his soulmate passing by him any second,

whenever thoughts of his soulmate occupied him completely, with wonder about her whereabouts, what she could possibly be doing at the moment, led jaeyun to turn towards a piece of paper and a pen to empty his system of all of his thoughts and overflowing emotions,

which resulted in this routine becoming some sort of coping mechanism for him when he felt like he was being drowned by his overthinking of his soulmate avoiding him, not wanting to meet him, or worse deciding to end their connection,

and this led to jaeyun having two boxes filled with his 'love letters' stuffed away at the corner of his room, thinking that maybe in the future his soulmate will read them and find his words and worry somewhat amusing,

but what if his soulmate truly didn't want to meet him?

A, NOTE. if this isn't out till the end of november like the 20-25 then i wish we would all collectively forget about it <3

(feb 2024 update): i’m still working on it !!

[m1d-45]

Okay last little idea and I'll leave you be for a bit

Xiao actually responding to the names the creator gives him. Little Friend, Pretty Bird, ect. No matter how far away you are, if you call those names, he has to stop himself from turning into a bird and flying away at that very moment. Those pet names are as much his name as any other he's kept.

-sibling anon

me when xiao

in his time with you in his adeptal form, xiao has never told you his name.

and yet, he still hears you.

if he’s in the area and the wind brings him the softest call of “you here, little friend?” he morphs in an instant, instinct taking over as he flies to your summons. he ducks through the trees, landing gracefully in your outstretched hand, meeting your wide smile with a chirp.

“there you are,” you mumble, and he ruffles his wings in an approximation of standing straighter. he is here. for you.

he’s commonly perched on your index finger, or your thumb if he’s eating from your palm. you only feed him simple almonds, yet it tastes of a delightful meal, energy coursing through his body. he’s careful not to nick your skin in his eagerness, but nobody could blame his enthusiasm if they knew what he felt.

by sitting in your hand, he is rested. by staying at your side, he is healed. he still upkeeps his duties, ever vigilant, but he’s quicker now, spurred on by something—someone—to return to. his place is at your side, and he hates keeping you waiting.

even when he has to.

xiao crossed his arms over his chest, staring off at liyue’s plains while he waited for the traveller to finish talking with… whoever. he honestly wasn’t paying attention. all he was there for was the lost adeptal artifact that the commissioner had promised he had, and then he would be on his way.

the man said something with a tilt to his tone. the traveller laughed. xiao grit his teeth.

“friend? little buddy? where are you?”

the call pulled at his soul as every other name he held, and he itched to answer.

paimon made a comment, an ooh! tossed somewhere in the middle, and xiao snapped.

“can we wrap it up? this is not a proper use of an adeptus’ time.”

the man swiftly apologized, handing over the totem, and xiao all but snatched it from his hand. a ‘farewell’ may or may not have slipped from him in time for the traveller to hear, he wasn’t sure. all he knew was that one moment he was dropping the totem off at his room at the inn, and the next he was leaping off the balcony, shifting mid-air to fly towards you.

he let out a loud cry when he spotted you, tucking in his wings to dive. you saw him and held out your hand, a motion so familiar that the actions to land were muscle memory.

he flared his wings, slowing his fall, flapping once, twice, before settling on your index finger. your thumb reached up, as it always did, and he leaned into it, repressing a coo at the feeling of it smoothing over his back.

“there you are, my pretty bird. where were you?”

a shiver rolls down his small body at your words, and he hides behind your thumb. you had many names for him—little friend, blue bird, simply blue—but pretty bird?

your pretty bird?

he’s hot in a way he can’t identify, a melting mix of emotions filling his chest. pride, admiration, adoration, even, all blurring into a messy film that covered his mind.

you turned towards your camp, keeping the hand with him perched close to you. “doesn’t matter. you’re here now, pretty bird. i missed you, you know.”

and you missed him?

xiao’s known for a while that the one on the throne wasn’t truly his god, but now he’s wondering if you were. the swell of confusing feelings was proof enough; were you anybody else, mortal or immortal, god or adepti, he’d have surely struck you down for your behavior long ago. cooing over him as if he were a mere household pet, feeding him scraps of crushed fruit, calling him such names as ‘pretty bird’- he’d have morphed back the second he was strong enough, held his blade to your throat and called you insolent and ungrateful. he’d leave you with a scar, and yet here he was, apologizing for the one he did leave in any way he could.

you carefully poured some almonds pieces in your palm, and he shifted to your thumb as you sat. were you anybody else, you would be dead. but your eyes are still open, carefully watching him, and your heart still beats blood. he can feel your pulse through his claws, sometimes, and often finds his own slowing down to match it.

you had an adeptus eating from the palm of your hand, and yet you were none the wiser. you simply propped your head in your free hand, a gentle smile on your face.

“my pretty bird,” you said quietly, and xiao’s eyes closed of their own volition.

yours.

[triforce-of-mischief]

Spirits and Hands

Summary: On his way to save Zora's Domain for the second time, Wild and his companions encounter a terrifying enemy.

Warnings: totk spoilers, panic attack, hands

AO3

Please reblog to show your support! Likes do nothing.

The journey to Zora’s Domain was already turning out to be a lot better than Wild had expected it to be. Any traveler he passed would have thought that he was making the trip alone, but he was far from it. Two glowing, spirit-like forms were at his side.

One, a young Rito with a bow on his back, had joined Wild last week after his physical counterpart had discovered his abilities as a sage. The spirit was useful for flight and fight, but his inability to emote more than a tilt of his head left his companionship a little lacking. Wild liked to talk to him, but Tulin’s avatar seemed to be more willing to communicate with beings on a similar level.

Wild’s other companion had been a constant presence ever since he had woken up on the Great Sky Island. Well, they hadn’t appeared in this form at first. He was one of many companions who visited Wild one at a time. Today, Wild was accompanied by a mostly-incorporeal Hero of Winds.

Unlike Tulin’s avatar, Wind was fully present and intelligent in this state. Time travel magic, yada yada, they didn’t really know or care about the differences between heroes and sages. What they did know was that although Tulin was unable to process too many new thoughts or allow Wild to touch him, Wind had no such limitations. The sailor claimed that he wasn’t dead, but all three of them agreed that he was more alive than the sage’s avatar.

Which brought them to this moment, meandering around the Zora River as Wild tried to avoid stepping in the thick sludge that had invaded the area. The spirits chattered with each other, audible only in Wild’s mind.

“And that’s when I looked up and realized that the dragon’s tail was the perfect shape for my grappling hook!” Wind said.

Tulin flapped his wings excitedly. “You could use it to wiggle the ceiling loose and crush the monster!”

“Exactly!”

“Stay close, guys,” Wild said quietly. “We’re about to enter the Tabahl Woods.”

The spirits agreed to finish the story later, mostly so Wild could concentrate on their surroundings. Unlike a few years ago, no Lizalfos could be heard near this stretch of the river.

“Gloom ahead,” Tulin pointed out.

Wild glanced in that direction, spotting a churning puddle of black-rimmed red. “Good eye. We’ll stay clear of that.”

The champion brought them closer to the river, letting the patch of gloom fall behind his line of sight. He had barely passed it when he saw Tulin prepare his bow out of the corner of his eye.

“Don’t tell me I missed a Lizalfos,” Wild groaned, setting a hand on his sticksword and turning around.

His heart dropped.

Wind shouted, “What are those?”

The puddle of gloom was creeping closer, tearing across the wet grass and turning the very air red as if a blood moon had appeared mid-afternoon. Flakes and tendrils of the evil substance floated above the concentrated mess, making Wild cough as it entered his lungs. With a demonic screech, a half dozen gnarled arms rose from the gloom, each topped with a hand and a malicious eyeball staring from its palm.

“Run!” Wild yelled, tripping on his own feet as he hurried to do just that.

“I got it!” Tulin called, and Wild heard the rapid thwip of his arrows.

“It won’t work!” Wild reprimanded, sprinting mere inches ahead of snatching fingers. “I tried that last time, they- ack!”

The hand found purchase on his ankle, draining precious energy before he managed to wriggle free. The pursuit resumed immediately, rendering Wild exhausted within seconds. He had lost track of both Wind and Tulin, the spirits left behind as Wild struggled to escape. The hand gave up the chase, but any relief Wild felt was extinguished by a familiar shrill scream.

Wild whirled around, finding that the gloom hands were now preoccupied with the smaller targets. Tulin had managed to fly out of range, sending useless arrows into the monster’s eyes. Wind, however, had been surrounded completely. A hand was clamped around his face, holding him suspended in the air while his feet kicked at nothing. More hands gathered around him, grabbing and squeezing and smothering.

Wind couldn’t feel pain, but judging by his panicked cries, that didn’t matter when he could still be scared.

A surge of protectiveness gave Wild the final burst of strength he needed to run away from the monstrosity’s field of influence. The hands shrieked and shriveled in the returning sunlight, vanishing and releasing Wind.

Tulin’s avatar swooped beside Wild, who told the Rito to go scout. Wild crashed to his knees beside Wind, giving him an instinctive once-over. The boy’s translucent body was unharmed, though Wild couldn’t be completely sure. Wind was curled around himself, knees tucked to his chest and hands clamped over his ears.

“Wind, are you…” The remainder of the question faded away, and Wild tried again when the sailor didn’t move. “Wind?”

In a voice more small and broken than Wild had ever heard it, Wind asked, “Is it gone?”

“Yeah… yeah, they’re all gone.”

Wind was perfectly still, but Wild could hear muffled crying.

This was a new experience, and Wild didn’t know how to react. Wind rarely cried, putting on a brave face around the older heroes and defending himself with youthful bravado. Wild had seen him wrapped in Warriors’ scarf a few times, even hidden away in Time’s arms once or twice, but Wind had never sought comfort from Wild. With the kid so vulnerable before him now, Wild could only hope that he could balance comfort and respect so he didn’t ruin the moment.

Wild asked, “Can you try to sit up so I can see that you’re not hurt?”

Wind hiccuped and slowly pushed himself upright, keeping his hands close and his head bowed. Wavy sea glass-green hair concealed his face, and Wild carefully reached out to rest his finger under the spirit’s chin. Wind flinched the slightest bit at Wild’s touch, but allowed him to tilt his head up for inspection.

Just as Wild had expected, Wind was completely unharmed- physically, at least. His cheeks were free of marks like the ones Wild could feel burning his ankle, left behind by dragging fingernails. No bruises from being grabbed, no patches of angry flesh sizzling with remnants of gloom. Satisfied with his findings, Wild braced himself before finally looking into Wind’s eyes.

Like Tulin’s avatar, Wind’s eyes were simple pools of light that held far less emotion than his true form. So when Wild saw that they were wide and shimmering, that glowing tear tracks were streaming down Wind’s face, he knew that something was very wrong.

“Wind, please,” Wild whispered. “What can I do to help?”

A ragged wail tore through Wild’s mind, and the champion had no time to prepare himself before the spirit launched himself forward. Wind was weightless in Wild’s arms, but tangible all the same as he quickly pulled him into a proper hug. The sailor made himself as small as possible, hiding from the world as he cried. Raw sobs and hoarse screams that would have caused a lot of pain if he had been able to feel such a thing, wave after wave of catharsis that came from vocalizing pure, overwhelming fear.

Wild waited in silence, knowing that words couldn’t help this situation. He remembered how afraid he had been in the aftermath of his own first encounter with the gloom hands. Only adrenaline had kept him going long enough to reach the Mount Lanayru Skyview Tower before he had crumbled in the snow, hyperventilating and hallucinating the horrible screams.

But as scared as Wild had been, Wind’s reaction was so much worse. The boy was trapped in his panic well after Tulin gave the all clear, never calming down even a little. Was it because he was so young, or was Wind reliving trauma that Wild didn’t know about? Something more was going on, but honestly, Wild found that he didn’t care. In this moment, all he wanted to do was comfort his little brother.

[ineffable-baker-street]

Metatron's Evil Plan

Starting with Gabriel's trial. Metatron said, "No speeches Gabriel you're not going to Hell.

He then adds "which there isn't."

It would obviously be an issue if Heaven were to be viewed as problematic and out of control, with fallen angels left, right and centre. So they tried to manage Gabriel, make it so he just faded from his place of power, but he outsmarted them. And suddenly there were two former high-up's down on earth, and we all saw just how desperate they were to get Gabriel back. It's clearly A Concern.

So unfortunately Gabriel has escaped from their clutches, with a Prince of Hell no less.

Very much not a good look. So Heaven needs to act and it needs to be now. Mere minutes after Gabriel and Beelzebub leave together, Metatron is on earth.

Then he goes to the coffee shop. He asks Nina, "Do people ever ask for Death?" and the subtitles were capitalised which I do think further supports my point. We already know that seeing Death is a bad omen, since at the end of Season One right after they saw him they were both dragged away to their would-be permanent discorporations.

There is also something to be said for the mirroring of the first season and second season. I've seen theories, as well as noticed myself that many things line up. I can't find the post that laid a lot of things out but here's a few that I've noticed.

The mention of Death in the final episode, right before something bad happens (they both get taken to be punished/Aziraphale leaves Earth.)

Aziraphale and Crowley both holding someone's hands with the person in between them (Adam in S1E6 and Jimbriel in season 2, episode one or two i can't remember which)

The Nightingale reference. Pretty obvious, but ending the season on that song holds significance. I think most people have seen the theory that that's a message from Aziraphale, but I won't go into that here or this will never end.

The nightingales plus the plans to go to the Ritz being gone I think is definitely symbolic of the fact that they've lost something. Again, an obvious option, but it's an important place for them, so the fact they had similar plans, that were then interrupted, reflects Season One while also telling us that things are clearly not going to be good.

But then you also consider that it's perhaps exactly what the Metatron wanted all along, for Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship of love and trust to completely fall away, symbolised by the hopes of dining at the Ritz disappearing.

Therefore I think a pretty reasonable conclusion from the mention of Death - and the parallels with last season - from someone as sinister as the Metatron is that something is going to happen to most likely both of them. Metatron is also almost surprised that people never ask for death, as it is "so predictable." There was definite intention in that scene, and makes me wonder if he thinks whatever he's trying to make happen will make them wish for death?

This next point is a big one. At first you might think its coincidental but if you go back and watch the scene I think you'll be convinced. When the Metatron enters the bookshop, the lamps with the candle looking bulbs and the glass decorations jingle and move. I can't find a good GIF to show it but if you rewatch I promise you'll notice it. And yes, since the door has just closed and there's potential wind they might move for a few seconds, but they continue moving the entire time Metatron is in the bookshop. This scene goes on for approximately 2.5 - 3 minutes, definitely too long for them to be moving. But, I suppose you never know, could be coincidental. Until he leaves the shop with Aziraphale. They move more vigorously on his way out, but by the time (about three seconds) Crowley walks towards the window to watch them go, they've completely stopped moving. Not a coincidence. Metatron has some sort of energy that's powerful, or influential enough, that it cause material objects to move vigorously when he's near them. They didn't even move nearly as much when literal demons entered the shop, at the beginning of episode six.

Considering the fact that those lamps were completely conjured by Aziraphale for his ball, I have a strong suspicion he's particularly influential over magical objects... or magical things (entities) in general. (This is important later)

Metatron also says, "just you and me, Aziraphale, eh?" which is honestly something that sounds more like enemies facing off in a battle, than friends going out for a chat. It's like when a murderer is alone with their victim, and while Az and Metatron are talking there are no witnesses. I definitely think this is foreshadowing for next season when Aziraphale has to face off with the Metatron.

When they're leaving the shop the Metatron is all lovely smiles while Aziraphale is looking, and he seems a bit like a harmless old man, but as soon as Azi's back is turned he gives Crowley the most hateful, sinister, conniving glare, with [tense music playing] according to the subtitles and also my ears. He is up to something. This is a very strong piece of evidence that the Metatron Does Not Like Crowley.

He tells Aziraphale, "you are just the angel for the job." It could be an ordinary thing to say, but no I don't think so. I think the Metatron has been carefully considering this for quite some time, and I think this is all about Crowley. He says there are "huge plans afoot, enormous projects," and he's so careful to be extremely vague, while talking Aziraphale up. Then he uses a tactic knows will work, which is playing with Aziraphale's heart and using Crowley.

"I've been looking back over a number of your previous exploits, and I see that in quite a few of them you formed a de facto partnership with the demon Crowley."

He has done meticulous research, and it's made clear earlier that he hates Crowley. But, he knows that Aziraphale loves Crowley, and that he wouldnt be able to resist the chance to try and do what he thinks is the right thing. Metatron mentioned that he was a 'Prince of Heaven' and that it could be seen as an 'institutional problem'. Well Heaven can't really been seen to have problems can it? And Crowley has been doing whatever he pleases for six thousand years, not on the side of Heaven or Hell, and I think that they're sick of it. He's already 'corrupted' one angel, who knows what's next? They don't want someone to hold that kind of knowledge and power over them, and Crowley holds a far greater knowledge of earth than any of the rest of them do.

And so the Metatron offers Aziraphale something he knows he won't refuse:

And I have to ask, why, why would he ever have Crowley reinstated to "full angelic status?" Two seconds ago he just described him as a demon?? The answer is that he wouldn't. Somehow I don't think heaven makes a habit of restoring fallen angels. He has a master plan, and that involves getting to Crowley, which means getting Aziraphale out of the way. Eventually I think they'll attempt to use them against each other, but the first thing for them to do was gain some control over Crowley. The Metatron had offered for Crowley to come to Heaven, which does of course provide easy access to him and if Crowley had chosen to do that it probably would've worked for them. But I think the Metatron was counting on Crowley not wanting to go back, and that Aziraphale suggesting it would even drive a wedge through their relationship (which it did).

And now Aziraphale is off somewhere busy working, they aren't speaking to each other and Crowley is alone on earth, no one is going to notice if something happens to him or he goes missing.

Aziraphale also really isn't that special to Heaven, he's just another angel, and one who doesn't always do as he's told, which begs the question of why Metatron would make a whole trip to earth, just to give him Gabriel's job. It could go to pretty much anyone honestly. So when Metatron says 'The Job,' I'm certain he does not mean taking over Gabriel's position. He means the job of getting demon Crowley back in order and control, so he stops causing problems for Heaven. Because wherever there's a problem, Crowley is at the centre of it.

Finally. Aziraphale's insane smile in the elevator.

DO YOU SEE HOW CREEPY THAT IS?? It's so off putting, and given he's just effectively broken up with Crowley you wouldn't expect him to be too cheerful. That is the least genuine smile I have ever seen, like it does not even look like Aziraphale anymore. At first I thought it was just him trying to make himself feel okay about everything, and it technically could be, but I'm not convinced of that. There's obviously the theory that Metatron put something in Aziraphale's coffee, but I just don't buy that (no hate to the theory ofc, definitely still a possibility). It's so simple, so human, and this brings me to my point about Metatron having influence over objects, particularly magical ones, and potentially entities as well. I think it is far more likely that Metatron is either brainwashing Aziraphale or simply has an element of control over him, but isn't entirely controlling him. Could be persuasive power, which he uses to influence Aziraphale, but technically if Az fought really hard he could fight him off. My mind influence theory is supported on multiple occassions, where Aziraphale seems to want to change his mind, or act a certain way, and then suddenly snaps back to acting like everything is okay. Examples of that are:

- Aziraphale straight up says he doesnt want to go to Heaven. He tries to play it off as a bit of a joke but he looked pretty damn serious when he says it. He looks so doubtful, but between then and speaking to Crowley, his attitude does a complete 180 flip

- "Well obviously you said no to Hell, you're the bad guys." Aziraphale would NEVER say that if his mind was completely his own. He has spent almost their entire existence saying that Crowley is nice and good and kind. He doesn't think for a moment that Crowley is grouped in with Hell anymore, but that's certainly what the Metatron would think

- Metatron walks in right after Crowley leaves and isn't at all surprised by the fact that Crowley refused, more evidence that it was what he'd hoped and planned for. "Ah well always did want to go his own way. Always asking damn fool questions too." Which is a tiny bit of further background into fallen angel Crowley.

- When Aziraphale is heavily considering changing his mind, Metatron keeps talking as though Aziraphale is saying different words. "It should be in safe hands." "Anything you need to take with you?" He's suddenly really pushing Aziraphale, even though he said there was no need to answer right away.

And that is all I have for you!! If anyone has anything to add I would LOVE to hear, this is my theory, definitely not the only possibility but I do think it's a candidate. Please let me know if there's any major points I've missed, I'm sure there probably is 🤍

@a-hearts-a-heavy-burden let me know what you think!!

[brittle-doughie]

Hello! It's been awhile hasn't it?

Could I get the Dragon cookie's x Oldest sibling reader

Where reader is the DragonLord Placidusax from elden ring, can I get this request to be set in the part where the dragon's were in a standoff with each other. But their battle shook the earth that it unearthed a supposed long dead dragon, and they all see a large shadow hidden in the storm soon revealing itself to be reader, in a state of decay similar to Placidusax, and reader had lost all semblance of sense so long ago, and just like in the game you fight Placidusax.

All I got from the wiki is that the dragon's were born from A volcano in the tropical archipelago, so I headcannon them as siblings with a difficult relationship.

If you can't tell I'm a sucker for heavy/dark angst especially when the mc dies, I'm not a sick person, I just think that an important character dying just gives so much emotion to those who held them dear and would make their character develop. And that's why I send you request of reader dying because your one of the few writers who allow that.

I'm hope this request isn't a bother, I tend to make them long length wise and I add way too much details on my part.

I hope you have a good day!

Molded, Battered, Whole (The Five Dragons)

The spear attack is pretty cool. Hope this does your request justice!

In the fight against Longan Dragon Cookie, the amount of power exhilarated by the five dragons rumbled the land of Earthbread. Power that would soon awaken something ancient, something powerful, something once thought to be the stuff of legend, soon to become reality.

The volcano within the archipelago was surrounded by vicious storms, red lightning littered the dark and cloudy skies as the land rumbled. Longan themself was taken aback by this sudden feeling of power in the atmosphere if only for a little bit, with their eyes opening up more for a second

Pitaya Dragon was more enthusiastic compared to the others as this sense of power brung them the possibility of fighting something or someone that had substantial power compared to them!

Ananas Dragon was more steadfast, wondering exactly who was exerting this sense of power, it certainly wasn’t coming from Longan! This intense pressure was coming from somewhere else, within that sudden storm to be more specific

Lotus Dragon pondered on the source of this energy they were feeling. Like Ananas, they didn’t believe it was coming from Longan since, admittedly, this power was on a different level to that of Longan. So exactly who was this dragon that’s making them feel this way…?

Lychee Dragon chirped as they were quick to announce the situation, even before Longan could say anything. This level of power was familiar! This realization struck the dragons all together! No way…it couldn’t be…

Was that Y/N Dragon Cookie?! The fabled eldest 6th dragon?! They were thought to be mere myth! Having been sighted WAY before the other dragons showed up, even before Longan!

If the gaze of Longan was enough to have cookies freeze up, then your presence alone would do that and a glare would send them to the ground. The time spent in this world and the time you’ve been slumbering has not done your appearance any favors.

Your colors were faded, wings and scales scarred and even crumbling in some places. Your arms and legs against the test of time haven’t fared so well that even tiny bits of mold started to form. The aforementioned scars also littered areas of your body, their origin a mystery. The look of your dough was grey and your eyes were glossed over and faded, it would be a fair assumption to think you were blind.

Though the red lightning strike towards the dragons coming VERY close indicates otherwise. You didn’t put much behind it and it was still considered incredibly strong by the others’ standards

“Heehee, looks like they’re a little cranky after waking up from their nap!”

“If they were really all there, you’d be reduced to dust. Their aim is impeccable, something is not right…”

“I’ll tell you what! Maybe a fight will snap them out of it!”

“Longan: Don’t underestimate Y/N Dragon, time has not been the best for them, but they still have the capability of erasing you from existence. Even I would be steadfast here.”

“All the more exciting to me!”

“Ananas: Normally I too wouldn’t consider this if alone, but with all of us here, we might have a chance.”

Even with the odds of numbers on their side, it was an extremely tough battle. Disappearing into storm clouds, lightning slashes from your claws, even a lightning spear that you detonated right in their faces, sending them backwards. Fighting back only seemed to make you use all your moves faster and in more frequency.

It seemed Longan was capable of handling many hits from you, but good lord did they still hurt. They even considered using their dragon form for this fight!

Pitaya was thrilled to be fighting a incredibly strong opponent, even if it was their eldest sibling. The absolute power in your attacks gave them a sense of a rush they’ve never felt before!

Snide remarks were absent from Lychee as they actually had to take this fight seriously, your attacks actually seem to have malicious intent behind them! That was just mean! Even if you weren’t completely sane in the head!

Lotus actually getting their hands dirty here as a fight with you meant all of the dragons had to play their part here. The loss of energy meant really needing to hit you where it hurts!

Ananas was actually surprised that you were exactly as powerful as the others made you out to be. This was quite the drop in confidence for them with how you meant business, but he tried to shake it off as they were still fighting!

It was a long and difficult battle, but in one final attack from all 5 of them, they were finally able to bring you down from your frenzy as you fell out of the sky. They quickly flew in after you to catch you before you hit the ground. Signs of their fight were not pretty to view at up close.

It was a relief that you actually woke up from all that, albeit you were pretty grumpy about it. Man did everything hurt. You lambasted them for their use of heavy force on you despite how old and worn down you were at this point.

Longan was a little unsympathetic, you attacked them with great strength, so it was only fair they responded in kind. You only grumbled irritatingly at that response.

Lotus was quick to try and rectify that stating that you were lost in the mind and so felt like the only way to cure that was to knock it out of you. You weren’t sure if you should feel better from that response.

Cookies that weren’t aware of your existence were made known of it now. The fabled 6th dragon that was older then the rest, with the power that even a glance would turn a cookie into crumbs! Though if they had actually gone to meet you, they’d see you were less regal and more like a grouch. You didn’t disregard cookies entirely, but preferred that you were left alone.

Ever since awakening, you pretty much joined the dragon circle after Lychee wouldn’t stop bugging you about it. Sleeping was nice, but you guessed you could use this opportunity awake to have a little reunion with your younger siblings.

Longan, being the youngest next to you, felt like they had the most capability of understanding you, something you were quick to remind them that, you knew and has done things that were WAY above even their understanding. But…you suppose you could open up to them about your time in these lands, satisfying the ivory dragon. Essentially being their mentor had made Longan questioning to themselves if it was really okay for a dragon to have a more well meaning feeling for another…

You didn’t want to admit it, but Lychee being the youngest in the group had made you feel a little protective over them, even if they did annoy the hell of you for it. But..Lychee appreciated that you were looking out for them, even if you deny it a thousand times.

You humored Lotus to play their mandolin, hating yourself when you actually nodded to their tunes, something Lotus took great pleasure in. You grumbled that their playing was “inadequate”, but Lotus only smiled at you and wouldn’t mind playing for you again sometime.

Pitaya kind of apologized a little for going too hard on you from the fight, with you growling from being reminded of that embarrassing defeat. You would’ve wiped the floor with them if it was one on one! Pitaya then offered to spar with you to get just that, a one on one! You took satisfaction in defeating the red dragon, but that quickly goes way when you see that Pitaya was enjoying fighting with you, you only growled in irritation. Though Pitaya swears that when they’re not looking, you were doing your best to suppress a small smile.

Ananas took a humble class when you weren’t exactly impressed by their feats, seeing it as being insignificant in your eyes. Ananas was annoyed by your lack of interest, but saw it as a challenge to try and come up with ways to really impress you. That would be a major ego boost that Ananas managed to impress you, the eldest dragon, with their feats!

It was a rough start at the beginning, with you being mostly steadfast at their attempts to get to know you better, especially after the fight. You had the right idea to just leave them once you healed up..

And yet you stayed.

You allowed yourself to return the favor by getting to know them too and over the years, slowly letting go of your resentment and actually participating in their plans. They took the sight of you slightly smiling in their presence as the biggest victory. Maybe being reunited with your younger dragon siblings wasn’t so bad after all…

But all things come to an end eventually, you were still old and very much tired at the end of the day. The years that go by did little to show that you were going to last long in this day in age. The other dragons knew this and did their best to help you with things you can no longer do and even felt a little worried that there will be a night that you slumbered and may never wake up from.

They actually grew disheartened at the thought, they had just gotten you back and the years went by so quick, and you were just going to leave them again…?

The dragon remained strong as they laid you within the lava of the volcano, where you floated on. You chuckled to yourself, this was really the end of the line for you. Longan commented that this wasn’t really the time to be humorous, what a party pooper you tell them, at least allow you to go out how you want it to be.

You could hear it in Longan’s tone that they were trying to hold back emotions, emotions that you gave them. Longan hated them..they hated you for making them feel this way, this pain in their heart…

Lychee didn’t try to suppress anything, they were sadden that you had to go now. They had a lot of fun spending time with you, their eldest sibling, it was stupid that this world decided that it was now time for you to go. Who’s going to look after them?! You patted their head and reminded Lychee that they had the others to look out for them, it was inevitable that your life on this world wasn’t for long. Lychee wanted to refute this, but said nothing. They wanted YOU to look out for them, it just wasn’t the same with you gone.

Pitaya commemorated the many fights you had with them, stating that those were definitely some of the best they’ve had. You training them as well? It was a thrill they’ve never experienced before! You grumbled, stating that the ratio between your wins and theirs were too far apart to catch up now…but you say that the foes they fight in the future will help them match up to your victories soon. Pitaya just tried to hide their face from the conversation, what good were their future opponents if they weren’t going to give Pitaya the thrill of the fight like you did!

Lotus reveled in the fact you liked their music, something you abruptly tried to deny, but you weren’t fooling them. You liking their music meant a lot to Lotus, it was a shame you can’t be around long enough to enjoy more of your music, it felt incomplete to have the dragons be their audience without you in it.

Ananas tried to remain prideful that you were receiving a dragon’s farewell, done and done. What they didn’t expect to hear from you was your saying that you were impressed by now. Ananas was willing to let go of their pride and offering assistance to those they considered beneath them, like the Cookies. Ananas tried to deny it, there were many things they’ve done you COULD be impressed by, this feat shouldn’t be the one! You told them to stuff it, you were impressed by their acts of mercy and you’re sticking by it. Ananas halted on a response, but came up with nothing. In their head….something as easy as being nice to some Cookies was enough for you? Guess that means they’ll lend help to the cookies more often then…

…

It was time…

Everyone remained silent as you finally closed your eyes, Lotus playing their mandolin as you floated on the lava.

Your body beginning to fade away into dust as the wind carried them away, Lychee struggles from this sight. The dragons close their eyes as they honored your passing.

A framed painting of you was kept in Longan’s palace, a painting they were incredibly protective over. Anyone who wished to disrespect your name was met with the intense ire from the dragons, Longan would not hesitate to crush the pathetic cookie into pieces over a transgression like that.

That is if the other dragons don’t rip them apart first…

[floating-mid-air]

The Princess of all Saiyans

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Masterlist

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Welcome back everyone. And welcome to anyone new. I'm back… yet again. New year… I won't say it again. I jinxed myself last year. As always, DM's/Comments are always open if you have any comments, questions, or concerns. I'd also like to thank everyone for the constant support. It means a lot.

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Chapter 16

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Gohan rushes over to your side with Krillin in tow. "Wow, Y/N. You really held your own against Frieza. I'm impressed." Krillin praises you.

"Ya, it was so cool!" Gohan exclaims. "I had no idea you were that strong."

"And talk about that transformation." Krillin continues to fawn over your brief display of abilities. "It was unreal."

"I lost." You scowl at the pair in disgust. You swear there's something psychologically wrong with them. This isn't the first time you've seen them praise failure. It's one of their many odd behaviors that you've managed to observe.

Kakarot and Frieza stand mere inches apart, sizing each other up. You never thought this day would come. You've been reduced to nothing more than one of Kakarot's accessories. You feel ill. Piccolo turns to the others, a hint of concern in his voice. "All four of us need to get out of here and go somewhere safe. Quickly."

Gohan and Krillin nod at the Namekian. "Get him, dad! Make him pay for what he did!" It's kinda cute how much the boy admires his father. In a way, it reminds you of the way Vegeta was with your own. Obviously, your brother was far less endearing.

Now, you all stand much farther away. Well, the other three stand. You don't have the energy. Damn, going Super Saiyan is a real energy drainer. "I'm quite surprised." Frieza chuckles with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"And why's that?" Goku asks.

"I've never seen Y/N so fond of someone before." Frieza's gaze jumps from you to Kakarot. "Lord knows Jeice tried."

"That weird little red guy?" Goku looks back, his eyes locking on you. You meet his gaze, glaring daggers at him. "I don't think she likes me that much." He chuckles, turning back to Frieza.

"I differ. Not even her precious Raditz would've gotten away with a stunt like that. I'm surprised she even allowed you to hold her."

"What are they talking about?" Gohan turns to Krillin, who just shrugs. Piccolo, however, has a faint smirk dancing on his lips. You've heard that Namkeians have a heightened sense of hearing. So whatever Frieza and that buffoon are discussing, it must be amusing enough to put a momentary pause on the Namkeian's brooding.

The epic battle between Goku and Frieza begins. They trade blows back and forth, creating rubble across the terrain as they go. You want nothing more than to watch Kakarot wipe the floor with that monster, but you're struggling. You can barely keep your eyes open. So much has happened today. You're both physically and mentally drained. "Y/N?" Gohan turns to you. "Are you alright?"

"Never better." You faintly grin at him.

"Maybe we should get her back to the ship." Krillin looks at Gohan skeptically.

"Touch me, and you won't have to worry about Frieza. I'll end you myself." Krillin gulps, diverting his gaze back onto the battlefield. Even injured, the human is still terrified of you. It's comforting.

Frieza manages to get the upper hand on Goku, knocking the Saiyan into the water. Far too much time for comfort passes. Something's off. You try to focus on his energy, yet you come up flat. You must be weaker than you thought. Maybe Kakarot came up somewhere else? Adrenaline kicks in. You hop up onto your feet without a second thought. "You shouldn't be standing!" The brat scolds you, rushing to your side. "You're too weak."

"This isn't right," Krillin mutters. "Goku should've come up for air by now."

"He's fine. I've been tracking his energy." Gohan assures him as he supports your weight, desperately trying to get you to sit back down. "You heard that right, Y/N. My dad is fine. You don't need to worry about him, alright."

"I'm not worried about Kakarot." You scoff. "If your idiot father insists on getting himself killed, so be it."

"You don't have to say it. I know you care. If you didn't, you would've left already." You grimace, your eyes locking back onto the water. If Kakarot's still under there, he must have a plan. But then again, it's Kakarot. From what you've been able to understand, his plans don't ever seem to have much consistency.

What the hell? The large body of water begins to illuminate. You're not very familiar with Namek's aquatic life, but you're pretty sure none of the creatures here glow. Three balls of energy shoot out of the water. Collectively striking Frieza and knocking him down. Wow. Kakarot may be smarter than you give him credit for. Though you'd never say that to his face. 

However, Frieza isn't down for long, quickly jumping back onto his feet. With ease Frieza, lifts a boulder the size of a small island. He tosses the rock into the air, shooting it straight at Goku. The Saiyan manages to catch it. But struggles with the sheer mass of the bolder. He's pushed into another mountain, trapping him between the terrain.

Not even a second passes before Goku shoots a beam, the rock fracturing around him. Allowing the man to easily escape. "You fell for it!" Frieza laughs manically.

Frieza's trapped Kakarot in some sort of bubble. You didn't know the freak had an ability like that. He kicks Goku back and forth as if he was a ball. You'd probably find this situation amusing if this was anyone other than Frieza. The pair continue to go back and forth, causing the whole planet to shake.

The winds pick up, causing their audience to be blown back. You and Piccolo managed to maintain your center of gravity, but the other two went flying. Krillin grabs onto a tree, and Piccolo grabs Gohan by the fabric of his attire. "They're causing an earthquake?" Krillin shouts, clinging onto the tree for dear life.

"But we're not on Earth... so is it still called an earthquake? Maybe it's called a namekquake?" Gohan chuckles.

"I don't think the technicalities really matter right now, Gohan!" Krllin tightens his grip. "Especially if we all die!" The planet stills, causing Krillin to land flat on his face. You laugh at his incompetence. How the hell has he even survived this long? It must be because of the Dragon Balls.

"That's not even the half of it. Frieza could destroy this planet in one blast if he wanted to. He certainly has the power." Piccolo says, his stoic expression not wavering.

"So he's just toying with us?" Krillin glances at Frieza through his peripheral vision. "That bastard."

"He's having fun with Kakarot." You scoff. "We're just a bonus."

Gohan frowns, furrowing his brows. "I-Is my dad gonna be okay?"

"Frieza's not the only one holding back." Piccolo's gaze moves onto Goku. "Look for yourselves."

"Dad!" The boy chuckles. The Namekian may be correct, but you've heard the rumors about Frieza. And if there's any validity to them, this isn't even a speck of Frieza's true power.

Your eyes wander around the rubble of Namek, and you see something... well, someone. For a split second, you thought it was Vegeta. But their build is shorter and far too slim. The name pops into your mind sooner than you'd care to admit. Tarble? You feel as if you're falling further and further into a bottomless abyss.

Your brother is dead... both of them are. Tarble's been dead for years. There's no way he survived in space all on his own. And if the slim chance he did, this would be the last place he'd be. He would never actively look for a fight or put himself in danger. He was always far too timid, far too afraid. Back on your home planet, people would refer to him as your shadow. Wherever you were, Tarble was just two steps behind. Just like... your shadow. You try not to think about him much. But once in a blue moon, thoughts of him slip into your mind. You can't help it.

"Y/N?" Gohan looks at you, concern shining in his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"You look like you've seen a ghost." Krillin's expression mirrors Gohan's.

"Ya, it's nothing." You shake your head, squinting your eyes. "I just

 thought I saw something."

"What did you see?" Gohan turns his head in the direction you were fixated on, only to find nothing.

"I'm just delirious. My eyes are playing tricks on me." You close your eyes, massaging your temples. And just like that, the image is gone. You're losing what's left of your mind.

"Are you sure?" Krillin asks. You nod, not wanting to spend another second on this topic. You direct your attention back onto the battle.

As the battle continues, you hear a motor of some kind. It's heading straight for you. Your head darts towards the source. It's the Earth woman on some sort of pink vehicle. Has she lost her damn mind? She jumps onto the ground, landing in a v-shaped pose. "A perfect ten!" Her voice is more gravelly than you remember. Wait a second. You'd recognize that dorky pose anywhere... It's Ginyu.

"Bulma!" Krillin yelps. "What are you doing here? Do you have any idea how dangerous this place is?" 'Bulma' has his back turned to him, seemingly not listening to a thing he says. You doubt Ginyu even knows her name. "Bulma? Are you even listening to me?"

"Huh? Who's that?" You were right. That fool took her body without even learning her name. Oh, this is great. You begin to laugh hysterically, wiping tears from your eyes. After the day you've had, you really needed this.

"Y/N? What's so funny?" Gohan asks.

"This is the best thing to ever happen on this damn planet. It's so amusing that it hurts." You grab your stomach, wincing in pain from laughing so hard.

"Bulma, you can't be here!" Krillin scolds the false Bulma. "Goku and Frieza are having it out. You need to find somewhere to hide."

"Really?" 'Bulma' jumps up in excitement, moving closer to the direction of the battle.

"Hold on!" Krillin shouts. "Don't just waltz over there. It's too dangerous."

"Lord Frieza in his ultimate form." Ginyu looks on in awe, fangirling over his boss. "Wow. It's magnificent! Frieza's body is reacting to the Saiyan's power!"

Gohan and Krillin share a look. "Bulma?"

A frog leaps in front of Gohan, jumping into his arms. The animal attempts to communicate with him. Making several croaking sounds and lots of gestures. Wait. If Ginyu is in Bulma's body, then Bulma must be... she's the damn frog! Oh, if only Raditz could see this. He'd get a kick out of it. You can practically hear his brash laughter ringing in your ears.

Gohan's eyes widen. "I get it now. You're that Ginyu guy. It's beyond dangerous out here, little buddy. If I were you, I'd find a nice sturdy rock to climb under."

"This is bad," As you watch the battle, Piccolo speaks for the first time in a while. "The gap between their strength is widening."

"It... It can't be." Krillin and Gohan share an uneasy look as Bulma laughs maniacally.

"Bulma?" Krillin questions again, this time more concerned than ever.

"His Lordship Frieza does not disappoint. Victory is his."

"Enough of this. Who are you?" Piccolo questions. Looks like one of the members of Team Kakarot has finally caught on.

"Cap--" Ginyu's hands fling over his mouth, stopping him from finishing his sentence. He struggles to pose in the unfamiliar feminine frame. But quickly, he maneuvers into a fighting stance. His attention concentrated on the Namekian.

"Look out, Piccolo!" Krillin shouts. Unfortunately for Piccolo, the warning comes just a second too late.

"Change now!"

"Head's up!" Gohan shouts, tossing the frog-morphed human straight into the line of fire.

Once the blinding light disperses, everyone's eyes lock on Bulma. Who's standing there frozen in shock. Which means Ginyu must be... You look down to the floor and catch the frog scampering away. You shake your head and snicker. What a coward.

"That was a close one, huh?" Gohan chuckles.

"Ya... If I only knew what happened." The Namekian scratches his head. He seems a bit dazed.

"I'm back! Inner and outer beauty are in perfect harmony once again!" The woman jumps around in pure joy. You'd think being a slimy frog, even just for a few minutes, would've taught her a lesson about vanity. Looks like she hasn't learned a damn thing.

"We're all overjoyed for you. But look, you need to get out of here and find someplace to hide. This is the absolute last place you want---" A harsh gust of wind interrupts Krillin, blasting Bulma back.

Gohan gasps. "Bulma!"

"Save me!" The woman shouts as she's flung up into the air out of view."

You watch in horror as Frieza splits the ground in two, carving a massive trench in the landscape. It extends as far as your eyes can see, even through the waters. You always knew Frieza was the most powerful being you've ever encountered. Yet, this is the first time you've ever contemplated the level of strength he truly possesses. Because viewing him as the strongest being you've ever met is no longer sufficient enough.

"Did that really just happen? This is starting to seem like a one-sided fight." Krillin comments.

"Of course it does. Frieza is stronger than any of us could've even prepared for. The look on Y/N's face should tell you all you need to know. I don't think even she anticipated this." The other two turn to you as Piccolo speaks. The look of dismay clear across your features. "There's nothing else we can do now. He's just too powerful." You never thought you'd see it. It's as if the Namekian has given up entirely. He seems different than he was on Earth. You can't exactly put your finger on it, but something has changed.

The battle, more appropriately labeled as Kakarot's beating, continues. Frieza smacks him around like he's nothing. You watch as Frieza holds Kakarot underwater with only a single limb. That's not good. If Kakarot is so weak that that's all it takes to drown him, you're all in trouble.

For every second that tics on, you have less and less hope. Your mind filling with possible contingency plans for after Kakarot's demise. But not a single one is up to par. And just when you thought Kakarot was down for the count, he comes shooting up from the water. His voice booming louder than ever.

Gohan and Krillin cheer, shouting words of encouragement as they watch in awe. "For Gohan, everyone on Earth, and the future of Namek. I'm not about to give up!" Goku shouts as red energy engulfs his body.

You gasp as he goes right back at Frieza like the last few minutes never happened. If you ignore the whole selfless hero thing, you'd say you're impressed with his resilience. Goku uses the Kaio-Ken technique on Frieza. Frankly, you were impressed with its sheer power. Once the blinding light disappears, your vision clears once again.

And no surprises here; Frieza hasn't moved an inch despite the brute force Kakarot used. To the untrained eye, you'd think that little stunt had no effect on him. Unlucky for you, you're very well versed in Frieza's mannerisms.

"There's no way... Goku put everything he had into that. So how is Frieza still floating there with barely a scratch on him?" Krillin questions in utter disbelief.

"Dad's energy dropped like a rock..."

"There's no way someone this powerful exists." That human is sure shocked a lot. You think he'd learn by now.

"Goku's finished." Piccolo scoffs. "Guess that lunatic King Kai was right. We should've listened when he told us to avoid a monster like Frieza."

"Frieza's off," You speak in almost a whisper, your sights locked on the man. He's relatively unscathed. There's barely a scratch on him, only a few nicks. But you can tell. The slight spasm of his extended hand, almost as if he was shaking. Mixed with his eyes. His eyes give it all away. The twitching mixed with something you thought you'd never see from Frieza. Fear. A being has never come that close to scathing him before.

Three heads dart in your direction. "What do you mean?" Krillin asks you. "He's fine. That blast did nothing to him."

"You don't know Frieza like I do." You chuckle. "Out of the many years I've worked under that snake, not once have I seen him look like that. His physical condition may be fine, but mentally he's off." Frieza's fear is quickly replaced with a much more familiar emotion. Pure rage.

You watch as Frieza knocks the man down. And he continues to pummel Goku into the ground. "Wow. Kakarot's really gotten him all worked up."

"Dad, no!" Gohan tries to run out to his father, but Piccolo grabs his cape, restraining the boy in place.

"You might as well send Y/N back out here!" Frieza mocks. "Even in her injured state, she'd put up a better fight!" He's not wrong. You'd never give up like that. It's pathetic.

"I'm ashamed to even call you a Saiyan, Kakarot!" You shout as Frieza's beating of your fellow Saiyan continues.

"I can't take this anymore!" Gohan shouts. "I can't just stand here. I have to help him!"

"No." Piccolo, yet again, stops Gohan from running into the line of fire.

"But... Dad will die if I don't!"

"He'll die if you do too." You scoff. "You'd only be prolonging the inevitable... and I doubt it would be for long. We're all going to be slaughtered today. I say, if the boy wants to die sooner, let him."

"Don't listen to her. Goku has something up his sleeve. I can tell." Piccolo assures the boy. "But he has such little power left. I have no idea what it could be." Kakarot looks as if he's posing. Maybe he got possessed by Ginyu again. You chuckle to yourself at the thought.

"A spirit bomb!" Krillin abruptly shouts. "It's a special last-ditch move he picked up from King Kai. It gathers all the energy from everything around. The grass, trees, even us. Everything that has a life force."

"But how?" Gohan eyes the older man skeptically. "This place doesn't look like it has much life left."

"I know, but just look down there. It's not like he has many options." He notices the look of concern across Gohan's features, quickly throwing an arm around him. "Besides, your dad knows more about it than us. I bet he'll make it work."

"Oh, yes. Let's just blindly put our faith in Kakarot. When has that strategy ever failed you before?" You sarcastically mumble. "I'm not a gambler when it comes to my life. And if I was, my money's on Frieza."

"Do you always have to be so negative?" Krillin cranes his neck in your direction, his displeasure with you apparent.

"I'll start being more positive when---" And just like that, an idea pops into your head. "Wait. So the more energy Kakarot can get, the better?" Your energy increases significantly in your newly unlocked form. So, if this spirit bomb works as Krillin claims, your new form could still be an asset against Frieza.

"Exactly." Krillin narrows his eyes at you. "Why?" Without a word, you stand back up. You crack your neck, getting into a better stance. "Are you sure that's a good idea? Cause a few minutes ago, you could barely stand without Gohan's help."

You smirk. "I'll be fine, human." You start to scream in a desperate attempt to replicate your original transformation. It's much easier to do than the last time. It's different from the Great Ape one that you're so used to. That one you were born with and had to learn to control. This one you had to unlock. You quickly transform. Your hair changing into a yellow hue, and your eyes glow. You're the Great Super Saiyan again. Now that you're not using it directly in battle, it's less impressive than you imagined as a child. It's sort of anti-climactic. You just need to hold this form as long as possible and hope your body doesn't give out.

Gohan and Krillin stare at you in confusion, but the Namekian chuckles. "Smart." Out of all of Kakarot's little friends, you suppose the Namekian is the most tolerable. Well, he's at least the most intelligent.

"I doubt it will do much." You roll your eyes before moving your gaze back to the battlefield. You can't lie. You do enjoy the look of bewilderment on Frieza's face.

After a few moments, the Namkeian looks around. "What the hell am I sensing?"

Krillin looks up at him. "Like I said---"

All three of you turn to Gohan, who's gazing at the sky in dismay. "The spirit bomb..." The three of you look up, finally seeing what Gohan does. You've never seen a ball of energy that size. Not even when you were flipping planets.

"That can't be it..." Krillin gulps. "It's gigantic."

"Damn." You shake your head. "Well, I guess I'd rather die by Kakarot's hands than Frieza's."

"By the look on your face, Krillin. I'm assuming this one is exceptional." Piccolo looks over to the human.

"The one on Earth wasn't even half that size. He must be collecting energy from all over the universe!"

"Frieza hasn't caught on yet," Piccolo announces. "Why doesn't he use that thing while he has the upper hand?"

"It must not be enough to... you know..." Krillin trails.

"You can say kill. It's not a bad word." You snarl. "You had no problem with it when you tried to murder my brother back on Earth."

"Come on, Dad!" You can hear Gohan shout as you glare at Krillin. "Hit him with everything you got!"

"How long do you intend to just stand there?" Frieza shouts, irritation evident in his voice.

"You know." Goku lets out a breathy chuckle. "That's a very good question." You adore watching the way Kakarot gets under Freieza's skin. Kakarot's antics sure are amusing when you're not the one being subjected to them.

You watch as Freiza twitches before knocking Kakarot back. "Oh, no!" Krillin shouts. "He caught on."

"No, Krillin. I don't think he did."

"The Namekian is right." You grin. "Kakarot's just pissing him off." Goku stands up, returning to his pose. Which only enrages Frieza more.

"I'm not going to ask you again." Frieza continues attacking him. Goku simply ignores his request, going back into the same stance. Your invasive laughter echoes throughout the remnants of the planet as Kakarot's beating counties.

The other three watch in horror with the occasional glance of disbelief at you. "Krillin, Gohan. Transfer any power you can spare to me. Quickly." The pair begin to give their remaining energy to the Namekian.

"What about Y/N?" Gohan asks.

"Right now. I think all of her energy is concentrated on keeping her transformation active." Piccolo chuckles. "Both of your energy will be plenty for what I have in mind. Don't worry."

"What's the big rush, Frieza?" Goku chuckles. "You're so impatient." Moments like this make it clear that there's still some Saiyan left in Kakarot. It might be the only thing attractive about him.

"You dare mock me, ape!" Frieza creates a large blast with his hand. Knocking Goku back further, sending him flying into the water.

"You two!" Piccolo shouts. "Pay no attention to what's going on down there. Just focus your energy." You do wonder what the Namekian has in mind. Neither of those earthlings have much power left. So, it can't be anything too powerful.

"This should be enough." Piccolo shoos them away. "Now listen here and listen well. None of you are to involve yourselves, understand? This is my fight and my fight alone." You scoff. It's like Vegeta never died.

"But---" Before Gohan can raise any opposition, the Namekian shuts him down.

"You'd only get in my way. You gave me all your remaining energy."

As Piccolo leaves the rest of you, Gohan speaks up again. "We can't just let him do this. He'll get himself killed."

"He's not trying to go after Frieza." You chuckle. "He's going to attempt to buy Kakarot sometime. It's a suicide mission... and he knows it."

"We can't just let him---"

"Then what's your plan?" You scoff. "You need to stop jumping the gun. I used to be just like that, too. You're gonna get yourself killed if you keep this up. How would your death help the Namekian?"

"It... wouldn't." Gohan sighs.

"Exactly. So stay there and shut up."

"Don't you think you're being a bit harsh?" Krillin turns to you. "He's just a---"

"You shut up, too!" You cut the human off. " I didn't know children were omitted from death on your planet." You sarcastically mumble.

While Frieza is distracted by Kakarot's idiocy, Piccolo finally strikes. Sending Frieza flying back and out of view. A sneak attack. Not a bad strategy. But that kind of thing only works once. You know that when Frieza returns, he'll be less than pleased.

"Piccolo!" Goku shouts in relief.

"Ya, ya. Just hurry up and finish that thing before he comes back."

"I owe you one." Goku gets back into his stance to finish the spirit bomb.

"You better make it quick. That sneak attack is the only thing I can manage right now."

Frieza launches back over. A vein bulging from his forehead. "How is that Namekian still drawing breath? I thought they've all been taken care of." You just love it when Frieza is enraged. It fills you with joy.

"Goku... hurry it up! How much longer do you need to finish that damn thing? Cause something tells me that Frieza is losing his patience."

"I'm sorry." Goku grunts. "I just need a bit more time."

"Ugh." Piccolo groans. "Just throw it already."

"No. It's still not done. It's too weak. If I throw it now, it'll do nothing!" Piccolo scoffs at him, flying up into the air.

"Too pesky to live but too stubborn to die," Frieza smirks at him.

"You're going to eat those words, scum." You watch, waiting to see who'll throw the first blow.

"What's he doing now?" Gohan asks.

"I think he's going to sacrifice himself. He can't have much power left after that move he just pulled. Since Goku's not done yet, I think Piccolo's trying to buy him some time." Wow, the human is observant for once. You assume there's a first time for everything.

"I told you he was going on a suicide mission." You cross your arms, wondering how this will all play out. You know it'll probably end with the Namekian splattered across the landscape. But the moments that lead to that are far more interesting to you.

"Goku... hurry it up! How much longer do you need to finish that damn thing? Cause something tells me that Frieza is losing his patience."

"I'm sorry." Goku grunts. "I just need a bit more time."

Piccolo groans. "Just throw it already."

“I don’t think Piccolo can last much longer… he’s really taking a beating.” Krillin looks on in horror.

"We have to help him!" Gohan starts to fly towards the two men. You shake your head. The boy has learned nothing. If he refuses to adhere to your warning, there's nothing more you can do for him.

"Gohan, wait!" Krillin's voice stops him dead in his tracks. He doesn't speak another word, just shaking his head at Gohan.

You roll your eyes. "As I said before, You'd just get in the way. You'd be more of a hindrance than an asset. Don't be stupid. That job belongs to your moronic father." You look away from the earthlings, directing your attention to the battle. The Namekian is far too weak to provide you with any kind of entertainment. The only attacks he can manage are several small yellow energy disks. 

"How can someone so resilient be so dumb?" Frieza mutters. You've often pondered the same question about Kakarot. "You must have a death wish, Namekian."

"We're at the end of our rope, Goku. Finish the damn thing!" With little effort, Frieza slams Piccolo onto the ground. "That's all I got. Please tell me you're almost done."

Goku shakes his head. "It's still not finished yet. If I throw it now, this all would've been for nothing."

Frieza grabs Piccolo by the collar. "Say goodbye, Namkeian. You get to die on your home planet. You should be thankful. The others aren't so lucky. Thanks to me, two of them don't even have one to die on." Before Frieza can kill him, Krillin and Gohan shoot a collective blast at Frieza with the minuscule energy they have left. Stopping yet another murder attempt. Frieza's three for three for his assassinations on this damn rock. That's not a bad stat in general, but it is terrible for Frieza.

"You... pests!" Frieza shrieks. "I hope you all end up suffering the same fate as this damn planet!" You've never seen Frieza look this unhinged. You've seen him pissed off countless times, but never to this degree. You watch as Frieza starts another attack. The ball of energy from his palms growing larger and larger by the second.

"Goku..." Krillin chuckles nervously. "It doesn't look like we have much time left!"

"Okay... Okay. I think it's ready!"

"Come on then!" Piccolo shouts. "Throw it!"

"Now, Dad!"

"While we're still young, Kakarot!" Wow, all of you are on the same page for once. Maye hell has frozen over? Goku screams, launching the spirit bomb at Frieza. "Holy shit..." That monstrosity absorbs Frieza's entire attack like it was nothing.

"Get down!" Piccolo shouts. Everyone falls to the ground, the spirit bomb causing severe damage to Namek's landscape... well what was left of it. The harsh winds send you all flying up into the air. The planet has turned entirely into a body of water. And you're thrown right into it. You weren't really intending to go for a swim today. Guess you have no choice now.

You grab onto some rock, pulling yourself up, gasping desperately for air. "I hate this vile planet!" You laugh as your eyes land on the earthlings staring at you with wide eyes. "Sorry to disappoint."

"Y/N!" Gohan exclaims, running over to you. The boy practically tackles you. Wrapping his arms around you, clinging onto you for dear life. "You're okay!" Your body goes rigid. You're not used to this. As you've said multiple times already. Physical affection isn't something your people partake in.

Krillin walks over to you, a faint grin on his features. "I never thought I'd say this, but oh boy, I am happy to see you."

Gohan finally releases you from his tight embrace. "Did you sense my dad or Piccolo down there?"

You shake your head. "I can barely sense myself right now, Gohan." You look around, taking in Namek's drastic remodel. The once vibrant planet is now drowning. This isn't exactly a foreign sight to you. For many years, your job was to destroy and flip planets for profit. You scan the area, searching for any source of life. You'd like to say you're looking for Kakarot or the Namekian, but that isn't true. You can't help but search for Frieza. That man has terrorized you since you were a small child. It's hard for you to believe he's gone. You can't ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Everything just feels far too easy.

"Hey, over there!' Gohan points to another area. "I see something!" A green hand grabs onto a rock. Using all his strength, Piccolo pulls himself up, dragging Goku with him.

Your lips unconsciously curve upwards at the sight. What the hell is happening to you? You should've wanted Kakarot dead. The idea of getting rid of him and Frieza in one blast should have been joyful... but it wasn't. You were worried? Upset? You don't know how to define your emotions for this hypothetical scenario.

Though, Kakarot is the only other member of your race alive. With Vegeta and Raditz dead, you and Kakarot are the only things left of your home. And when you're both dead... it will be as if your planet never existed. Like your species never existed. The Saiyan race would be nothing but a distant memory... a tale of the past.

"Goku!" You hear the human shout. You see Kakarot there. He's alive. And yet, you can't help but think about what things would've been like if he wasn't.

The reality of everything begins to set in. Frieza, Raditz, Vegeta, they're all dead. And yet, you're still standing. For the first time in your life, you're truly alone. What do you do now? Where are you supposed to go? It's not like you have a home to go back to.

Your brother would know what to do. He always knew what to do. You feel so lost. You try to think about what Vegeta's next steps would be. First, he'd kill Kakarot, obviously. And with Frieza gone, taking over the universe would be a piece of cake. The Frieza Force is weak, but their soldiers are malleable. But is that what you want? Do you want to rule the universe?

That was Vegeta's dream. Not yours. You always just went along with his whims. Ruling the universe with Vegeta would've involved a lot of work; without him, it is next to impossible. The plan was always for Vegeta to do all the work, and you'd selfishly reap all the benefits. Without your brother, you don't desire to dominate the universe. But if you're not going to take over the universe, then what the hell are you going to do?

You watch their little reunion from a distance. It's filled with hugs and happiness... and all of the other shit you find nauseating. Frieza's dead... you should be happier than ever. Yet you're not. You feel... numb? You've never felt this lost in your life. Whatever is left of Raditz and Vegeta is somewhere underwater now. That is if their bodies weren't destroyed by Frieza's trench. Saiyans don't mourn. They suck it up and move on. That's what your father did after your mother died in childbirth with you and Tarble. Yet... you're melancholy. It's almost bitter-sweet. But mostly bitter.

Goku frowns, and starts to look around. Like he's searching for something, "Where's-" His eyes lock on you, a grin quickly replacing the frown on his lips.

You slowly saunter over to them. "You actually lived." You shake your head at the buffoon. "Color me surprised."

"Does that mean you're happy to see me?"

You roll your eyes, chuckling. "You really just hear what you want, don't you, Kakarot?"

"Man, that spirit bomb was a doozy. It was like the size of a planet." And they're back to their little celebration. Who are you kidding? It never ended.

"You better believe it was, Krillin. The hopes and dreams of the entire universe were packed into that thing." Goku looks at you from the corner of his eye. "And maybe a bit of extra help from Y/N, too."

"I was still afraid that you got caught in it."

"Come on, Gohan." Piccolo chuckles, ruffling the boy's hair. "Give your father and I some credit."

"Well, I guess it's time to head home with our heads held high. Might even have the chance to live the dream." Krillin announces.

"Huh?" The father-son duo looks at him in collective confusion.

Krillina laughs awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "You're seriously going to make me spell out what's at the top of my victory list, aren't you?" His face flushes bright red. "A girlfriend."

You sneer in disgust. "Humans are such pathetic creatures." The other three stare at Krillin in surprise before breaking out into laughter. You'll never understand any of them. And you don't desire to.

Once the initial adrenaline passes, everyone's now standing. Goku has one arm around Krillin, the other placed on top of his son's head. "You all ready to go? My spaceship should be able to get us back home in just under six days."

Gohan jumps in joy. "Yay! I get to see everyone in less than a week."

Goku grins at his son before turning to you. "You're more than welcome to come with us."

"It's not like there's any other way off this damn rock." You look away, avoiding his gaze. Great, you get to go from one horrid planet to another. You can't even pick which one is worse. Namek, which is a shell of its former self. Or Earth, which is home to some of the weakest, most pathetic creatures you've ever encountered.

Your ears perk up as Krillin screams. "What is it?" Goku asks, alarm dripping from his voice.

"Bulma's out there somewhere. And I totally forgot." He looks terrified. It's the same way the human typically looks at you.

"Come on, Krillin." Goku laughs. "Don't scare us like that. From the look on your face, I thought that Frieza was back."

"Ya, well, he's got nothing on her when she's pissed off." Really? He finds the Earth women terrifying? You've seen insects with a higher power level than her. You doubt the earth woman has eradicated entire species when she was angry. It must be an exaggeration.

The others laugh, but you aren't amused. "Don't make me laugh." Goku chuckles more, gripping his side. "My body's already mad enough at me as it is."

You stare at your reflection in the water as the Namekian speaks. You look like crap. You desperately need sleep. You look back up and see the earthling, his mouth hanging ajar; he's practically shaking in fear. You turn your head to see what he's staring at. Laughter escapes your lips. It's Frieza. You knew it. You knew it seemed too fucking easy.

"How can this be happening? There's no way someone could survive a blast like that and not get obliterated." Krillin looks on in utter disbelief.

"He's not just anyone. He's Frieza...." Your voice trails.

Frieza extends his arm, shooting a blast at Goku and Gohan. Piccolo jumps in, knocking the pair out of the way. Taking the impact of the blast entirely. "Piccolo!" Gohan screams, falling to his knees.

"He's alive..." You cross your arms over your chest. "At least for now."

Gohan gets up and rushes over to the Namekians' side. "Piccolo... please get up."

You watch as Kakarot clenches his fists, his knuckles turning milky white. "Bravo, my friend." You don't think you've ever heard Frieza refer to someone as a friend. Pest, sure, but a friend? Never. It's unnerving. "You nearly brought the mighty Frieza down. I've never had a call quite that close before."

Goku's gaze darts from Frieza to you all. "I want you all to get out of here. My ship isn't far. Grab Piccolo, find Bulma, and set a course for Earth." Why is everyone always so bossy? First Vegeta, then the Namekian, and now Kakarot. Who’s gonna try to boss you around next? The brat? "I'm not leaving. So don't get any ideas about waiting for me." His eyes lock on his son, who's in a trance-like state. "Snap out of it, Gohan!"

"I won't!" The brat stubbornly stands his ground; how Saiyan-like. "I owe it to Piccolo to stay and fight." Gohan starts to tear up.

"With what?" Goku questions. "None of you have enough strength left. The most you'd do is get in the way."

"Goku..." Krilin's voice trails. "You're serious."

"I advise against placing much stock in your vessel. But if you'd like, I can bring you much closer to home." That sounds mildly threatening. You know he's not talking about your home. All that's left of your homeworld is most likely a handful of rocks floating aimlessly somewhere in space.

"Krillin! Look out!" Gohan shouts. Frieza takes control of Krillin's body, blasting him high into the air.

"Frieza... don't do it!" Begging will only encourage him further. You don't see a way where any of you make it off of this planet alive.

"Goku!" Krillin shouts as he dangles in the air. With a clench of Frieza's fist, the human implodes. Talk about going out with a bang. You don't even see a body. He must have... disintegrated.

"You are a ruthless... heartless... bastard." Kakarot's fists remain clenched, his entire body vibrating.

Frieza laughs mockingly. "I think the pretty princess should go next." He extends his index finger in your direction. "And after I take care of her, it'll be the brat's turn." Frieza shoots a blast of energy straight toward you. It all happens so fast that any attempt to move would be in vain.

You can feel the heat of the energy against your armored chest. Yet there's no pain. The beam reflects off your chest as if you were made entirely of rubber. Frieza dodges out of the way, just barely evading his own attack.

"What the hell?" You mutter to yourself. You look down. Your armor is the same... but your chest is glowing. You reach into your armor, pulling out your necklace, holding it by the chain. This is the source of the light; the stars of the charm are shining. It's never done that before. Your necklace... it saved you?

"What kind of damn trick was that Y/N?"

"I- I have no idea." You grasp the charm in your hand. It feels warm, an odd, comforting familiarity you can't describe. Where the hell did your father actually get this thing?

Frieza is about to speak again, but his attention quickly focuses on Kakarot. Whose anger has only seemed to grow. Beams of light shoot all over the planet. It almost resembles lightning. He must like Krillin more than all his other friends you had slaughtered back on Earth. The waters form waves, and rocks shoot everywhere. "I will make you suffer!" Now, this is a version of Kakarot you can get behind. His hair flickers from black to blonde. No way... he can't be.

With one final shriek, he transforms right before your eyes. His hair was now in a semi-permanent state of blonde, with his eyes a much lighter shade. Kakarot... is a Super Saiyan. "Holy shit..."

"Both of you go. Take Piccolo with you, and get the hell out of here." It's clear this isn't a request. "Find Bulma, find the ship, and go." Gohan hesitates, not moving. "Do as I say now before I lose what little sense of reason I have left!"

"O-Okay." Gohan nods, rushing back over to Piccolo.

"Move as fast as you can, and don't look back. If Piccolo dies, then Kami dies... and I don't think I have to remind you what happens after that." And still, after all of this, his priority is resurrecting his pathetic friends. Unbelievable.

"What are you trying to say?" Gohan's voice shakes.

"I'm saying go without me. Get back home; I'll be there when I can."

"But... if we take your ship, you'll be stuck here. You'd have no way to get home."

"I'm your father! Don't talk back to me!" Goku snaps. "Just do as I say!"

"Alright, Dad." Gohan nods. "I'll see you at home." Gohan picks up Piccolo, flying out of view."

After his son is gone, Goku turns to you. "That means you too."

"But I wanted to watch..." You pout.

He scoffs. "I'm not asking, Y/N."

You place your hands on your hips, rolling your eyes at the man. "You sound like Vegeta."

Goku takes several steps toward you. Now, standing directly in front of you. "Stop being a stubborn brat and listen!"

You chuckle. "Now you really sound like Vegeta."

"I'm not playing this game." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Now get the hell out of here!"

"I never knew you could yell so much." You smirk.

"Well, that's because yelling seems to be the only damn thing you respond to!" He snaps.

"That's not---" Wait. Have you been conditioned to only listen when someone's screaming at you?

"Now, I'd happily entertain you any other goddamn day of the year, but not now." He takes a deep breath. "Now go before I lose my damn patience."

"Man, now you really sound like---" You're cut off by Kakarot's lips pressing against your own. The warm sensation causes your heart to flutter. Your eyes widen. Your breath catching in the back of your throat.

"How about now? Do I sound like Vegeta now?" You touch your lips. Did... Did that just happen? "Now go!" He takes a deep breath, seeming to have calmed down a bit. "When I return to Earth, we can get back to what we started before. So you'll get a turn, too. I'll gladly fight you... or fuck you if that's what you'd like instead. Maybe both if you listen." You choke on air. Who the fuck is this? Cause this isn't the Neanderthal Kakarot. Your brain is short-circuiting. "Just wait for me, alright. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"A-Alright." You're not sure if you love or hate this new Kakarot. You take a deep breath and regain your frosty attitude. "Don't die. Or do. I don't give a damn what happens to this planet. Well, it's not much of a planet anymore, is it." You fly up into the air.

"Hey!" He calls out to you one last time. "Take care of Gohan for me while I'm gone."

You grin, shaking your head. "You really are a terrible father!"

[fuwushiguro]

Call Me If You Get Lost

part seventeen | masterlist | part nineteen

Yuuji Itadori x f!reader x Megumi Fushiguro

Genre: Smut & Angst Notes: University AU, all characters aged up. The reader is getting on my nerves a lil oops<;3 Warnings: 18+, pet names, cheating, family drama, smokin' weed!!, depression, blowjob, fingering, clit kissing, tit sucking, degradation, pining, lmk if i missed any! Words: 6.9k

Synopsis: You’ve been dating Yuuji Itadori for nine months. He’s the best boyfriend you’ve ever had, he cares for you deeply and he’s amazing in the sack. When new boy Megumi moves to town and joins your art course, you are shocked to discover he isn’t the quiet introvert you suspected him to be.

You don’t think highly of yourself anymore. There was a time you thought you were a good person, at least a better person than your parents, but that time is a mere memory. There couldn’t possibly be a more perfect person, a perfect boyfriend, a perfect lover, than Yuuji Itadori. But somehow you found a way to fuck it up.

The fucking Fushiguro’s.

“You think you’re fucking smart, kid, but you aren’t as smart as you think.” Toji tells his son. The statement is met with nothing but a huff and an eyeroll. He knows what he did was wrong, it wasn’t meant to pan out the way it did, he even apologised. Isn’t that enough? “I don’t believe for a single fuckin’ second that you didn’t tell him to come so you could fuck with her head.”

Megumi sighs, again, not even bothering to hold eye contact anymore. Instead, he’s staring pitifully at the ground.

“Got nothing to say for yourself, you little shit?”

“What do you want me to say? I said I was sorry!” he tries to defend himself, knowing it’s futile. He is completely in the wrong, there is nothing he can say to justify what he did. “You’re so fucking obsessed with her, it’s weird. It’s sick, actually.”

“Jealous? Fuckin’ sounds like jealousy to me.”

“I’m not fucking jealous of you! You’re a fucking—!”

“Woah… dad? Megumi? I could hear you yelling from outside… I got some extra groceries for our guest staying, where is she?” Tsumiki questions, carrying the bags filled with food and toiletries to the kitchen before approaching her family.

“Probably fucking fingering herself ready to bounce on this old pervert.” Megumi crudely announces to the room. Tsumiki gasps, astounded that her precious little brother could be so vulgar about someone she thought to be a friend of his.

“You better watch your fucking mouth. I’m sick of you, I’m really fucking sick of you talking to me like I’m dirt on the bottom of your shoes, same for her. She’s done nothing to you, and you know that!”

“I- I’m gonna be late for work… try and keep the noise down, please.” Tsumiki requests, picking up her car keys and heading for the exit.

Toji sits down on the nearest sofa, crouching forward and interlocking his fingers to rest his chin on as he thinks. There’s a black spot on the wall that he can’t tear his gaze from. Looks like one of Megumi’s art supplies found its way onto the alabaster wall in the kitchen. It is such a perfect stain, he thinks. The way it is so obscene and bold in contrast to the white wall it is infecting.

He can’t think about it anymore, though, Megumi is pacing back and forth in front of him. His eyes are red, bloodshot, and puffy. He’s raking his fingers through his hair, messing it up so much he almost looks like Toji’s doppelgänger.

“You know what your problem is, kid?”

“Oh, please, enlighten me. There is an abundance of things wrong with me for you to pick from.” He doesn’t stop pacing, still a ball of nervous energy as he tries to find the simplest spot to simply exist in his own home.

Toji rises from his feet, grabbing his son by his shirt and throwing him down into the nearby armchair. He lords above him, green eyes fighting each other intensely, both of them refusing to look away or even blink to seem weak. Whoever blinks first loses, they both think.

And of course, Megumi blinks first.

“You’re always coked up to your fucking eyeballs. I thought you only did it now and then, are you addicted?” Toji questions. Megumi tries to push him away, but he can’t. “Answer me, if you need professional help I’ll—”

“Stop. Just fucking stop.”

“I’m trying to help you!”

“Throwing money at my problems isn’t gonna fucking fix me, okay?!” Megumi yells. “I’m not addicted, I’m not stupid. It’s just… It’s just fun, alright? Makes everything… fun.”

Toji laughs, though it’s more like a scoff. He moves away from Megumi, allowing him to leave if he wishes. But his son seems paralysed, afraid to make a wrong move in case Toji yells at him again. Something he said has earned a disapproving laugh, but he isn’t sure what he said that’s so funny.

“You sound like… me.” Toji sighs, covering his eyes with one hand as he furrows his brows and massages his temples. “When your mother died, you’re acting how I did. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I taught you that this is okay.”

Megumi is quiet, unable to answer. It sounds genuine, a real apology. But is it real? Or is it just a trap to get him to submit?

“I don’t know how to be a good dad, or any kind of dad. I’m shit, I know that. But I swear everything I’m doing is for you. I’m trying for ya, kid.” Toji tells him, honestly.

Neither of them has heard you come out of your room, eavesdropping on their private conversation. You’re sitting at the top of the stairs, doing your best to be as quiet as possible. You feel bad for Toji, and Megumi, too, in a way. They don’t know how to be around each other properly. To be a real father and son. But you can tell how hard Toji is trying to make an effort. It’s all down to Megumi, you think. Whether or not they can move forward in their relationship is up to Megumi.

“I— I know…” Megumi sighs. “Thanks… I’ll try too.”

“Can you lay off the coke?”

“Yeah, I mean… I’ll try.”

Toji ruffles his hair and pulls him into his arms. Megumi doesn’t expect it, his eyes almost bulging out of his head at the embrace, they gloss over completely with tears when he feels his dad kiss the crown of his head.

“I love ya, Megs, I love you.” Toji tells him.

Megumi’s eyes begin to vibrate, unsure of where to look. He clears his throat and decides to close his eyes to prevent any tears from spilling over, he allows himself to be held by his father, embracing the warmth of his body.

“T-Thanks, dad.”

You’ve been locked in Toji’s room almost all day, only leaving for a trip to the bathroom. It’s been nice to spend some time with yourself. Playing your favourite music and doodling in your sketchbook. You have some solid plans sketched out, and part of you is excited to go to class again and start painting.

“O’Keeffe?” Megumi speaks after a quiet knock on the door, but you don’t hear. Your music is playing full blast in your ears and the only thing on your mind is your art. He assumes you don’t want to be disturbed; but his curiosity gets the better of him.

You still don’t notice him when the door begins to open, due to your back facing it. He can hear your music playing now; and it makes sense why you hadn’t told him to go away. His conscience is chiming in, telling him to turn around and leave you alone.

But that isn’t Megumi’s style.

Instead, he throws a piece of gum over your head and on the mattress in front of you. It startles you, and you pick it up to examine it. And when you turn around and see him standing in the doorway, he can’t help but snicker at the sight of you jumping.

“What do you want?” you ask him, pausing your music.

“I came to say sorry, again, I wasn’t thinking straight.” he tells you. His eyes almost glitter and his cheeks redden as he awaits your response.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, okay. I’m busy right now so… leave, please.”

His head tilts and he can see a little bit of the sketch in your hand. “Can I see?” he wonders. You quickly close the book and tuck it under your pillow. “Okay, sorry, I get it.” he nods.

“Megumi… I’m tired. You are draining me. Is there anything else you wanted to say?” you ask him again. He shakes his head. “Okay then. Goodnight, Megumi.” you stand up, hoping to incentivise him to walk away. But he stays put, holding the door against the wall so that you can’t close it.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go somewhere… with me.” he tells you, and it knocks you slightly. You’re taken aback, unable to move an inch. All you can do is stare at him.

“Where?”

“I don’t know.”

“You can’t drive, it’s late… were you going to ask your dad to drop us off somewhere and pick us up later?” you query. It comes out meaner than intended, and you can tell the comment has annoyed him from the way his jaw is clenching. But you’re surprised that he manages to hold his tongue.

“No.” he pulls a joint from behind his ear. “I was thinking we could go for a walk and smoke.” he informs you.

“You know I don’t do drugs; I’ve never smoked before.” you remind him. “And I don’t think it’s a good idea to walk around with that in public… it reeks… I can smell it from here.”

He sighs, but isn’t afraid to keep eye contact with you. “Is the issue smoking? Or going outside?”

“You’re the issue, Megumi.” you tell him sternly. “You know what happened last time, I don’t want to do that again.”

“Tsumiki doesn’t like it when I smoke in the house, but she’s asleep and we can open a window… weed always makes me feel creative. We can draw together, if you like. It was fun when we were colouring on the bus.” he smiles, thinking fondly of the memory.

You can’t help yourself from smiling, too. “Yeah… it was fun.” you nod, agreeing. “Fine, hurry up before your dad hears you. Don’t make me regret this.” you whisper to him. You don’t notice it, but the subtle change in his expression is Megumi doing his best to contain his excitement.

Before he returns, you quickly throw one of your boyfriend’s hoodies on over your pyjama shirt. Not that you looked particularly provocative, you just want to make sure you don’t give him the wrong idea.

He returns, his sketchbook in hand and an additional three spliffs.

“Open the window and pick some good music.” he smirks.

Your back is against the wall, as well as the crown of your head. There is a glass ashtray in your hand, tilting between your crossed legs. Megumi keeps glancing at it, making sure he gives himself time to grab it in case you get ash all over Toji’s duvet.

“I feel like I’m better than everyone else right now.” you tell him, wistfully.

“Huh?” he smiles, “What do you mean?”

“You too, we’re both better than everyone else. Aren’t you feeling this?” you giggle, “I feel like we’ve done this thing, and we’re better now. Like… I feel like a higher being.” you tell him.

“Are you high?” he bursts out laughing, he begins to cough on the imaginary smoke in his throat.

A whine that turns into a whimper traverses through you. “I was supposed to be sketching!” you almost yell, earning a hush from Megumi, encouraging you to lower your volume. “I feel too tingly and tired to do anymore drawing.” you explain, adjusting your head so you can look into Megumi’s eyes.

“Tingly, huh?”

“Mhmm, tingly.” you pout.

He puts down his ashtray and leaves his joint inside of it, uncrossing his legs from his seat on the ground before standing up. His eyes resume observing yours as he gets closer and closer to you. Your heart is pounding, and you instinctively begin to close your eyes the nearer he is.

And there he is.

You can practically feel his nose touching yours. His breath on your lips. And you hope he can’t hear the way your heart is racing because of him. Your lips start to purse, and you can’t undo it because everything within you right now is screaming that you can’t. He’s going to kiss you again, and your mind doesn’t want that.

But your body does.

“Y-Yuu—”

You can’t say anymore, the end of a blunt between your lips and a clicking sound reigniting it.

“Breath in, O’Keeffe, don’t fall behind.” he smirks, watching as you do your best to obey him despite being so under the influence. With that cute smile on your face you’ve had all night, it makes you look like you’re on another planet. “Can I draw you?” he whispers, the vibrations of his voice rushing straight to your clit. And you gulp; you can’t help but gulp as you see the real depth of his intense stare.

“Okay.” you nod.

He helps you get the ashtray comfortably on your thigh so you don’t have to think about it anymore. Megumi’s hand takes one of yours so that you can hold the blunt on your own. You feel the breeze of him moving away from you as he moves quite quickly. You’re so worked up; you can feel your heart still pounding and you begin to worry that something is very wrong.

“M-Megumi? My heart hurts.” you tell him, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“Guess how many girls I’ve sketched.” he demands, barely looking at you before scribbling in his book again.

“W-Wha? Um… uhh… two hundred?” you wonder.

“Tch,” he chuckles. “You think I know two hundred people? Let alone two hundred girls.” he tells you, giving you the slightest hint.

“Half of that?” you furrow your brows.

“Less, O’Keeffe, way less.”

“Don’t tell me… ‘I’m your first?’” you put on a brooding, disgruntled Megumi impression as you ask him the question. His nostrils flare, with an almost unperceivable smile. But again, he shakes his head. “Fine, you win, I give up.” you sigh, a little peeved that you couldn’t figure it out.

“You’re my second.” he smirks as he does an impression of your impression. He turns the sketchbook so that you can see his quick drawing. It’s rough, really rough, barely even looking like you at all. It could be any girl in the world with the addition of some devil horns coming out of your forehead.

“You’re such a dick.” you can’t help but laugh at the poor drawing. “Will you draw me, for real?” you ask, and he nods. You can’t stop yourself from smiling, again. Realising he was trying to distract you from thinking there was something wrong with your heart. Just your mind playing tricks on you.

He changes his seating position as he finds a more optimal way to draw you.

“Megumi?”

“Mhmm?”

“I did have phone sex with Yuuji.” why the fuck did you say that? This is the longest time you’ve managed to spend alone with him without arguing or hooking up. You close your eyes, hoping somehow that will make it so he didn’t hear what you said.

He did hear, obviously, each word felt like a pinprick against his skin. But he didn’t let it deter him from sketching. Holding the façade that it doesn’t bother him. He’s never liked sketching women. He never truly learnt how.

He thinks they can’t stay still for long enough.

“Why are you telling me about that, O’Keeffe?”

“Do you hate me, again?” you pout, opening your eyes.

“No, I don’t hate you.”

“I don’t want you to hate me.”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t? Doesn’t what I just said make you hate me?” you ask, genuinely curious as to what he will say. It doesn’t sound right; it doesn’t sound like the Megumi you’ve come to know. Especially after how furious he was when he suspected it before.

“Why do you care if I hate what you do with your boyfriend in your personal life, O’Keeffe?”

His question stumps you and you have no idea what to say. Is there a reason? There’s something deep down that’s screaming at you that there is. But you can’t acknowledge it, not really. You can’t begin to let yourself believe what you’re feeling deep down. There has to be another reason. There needs to be something else that you can say.

“Well… I need to know what about me makes you so angry. What things I say might make you hate me.” you tell him, your head lolling a little as you let yourself relax.

“I’m just a bully, O’Keeffe, mean ol’ Megs. Right?” he grins, still sketching. You don’t answer him, unsure of what to say. All you can do is stare and wait until he decides to continue. “Keep your head up f’me, princess.” he demands, and you respond perfectly for him. “Me being a dick to you isn’t… your fault. It’s mine.” he tries to assure you, though you aren’t sure if you believe him.

“Are we friends? Will we ever be friends?” you question him.

“You want to be friends with me?”

“That’s all I ever wanted, from the very start.” you try to remind him. “Knowing that you and Yuuji were best friends made me want to be friends with you. I tried to be kind to you, and you were just…”

“I know.”

You have no idea how angry he is. With you. With himself. But mostly Yuuji Itadori. His own heart is thumping, now, knowing the hatred he feels is down to plain simple jealousy. He can’t stop thinking about his night out with Gojo. He can’t actually believe he told Satoru that he loves you.

Maybe he just likes you a lot, as a friend.

It’s not like he’s in love with you.

You can love your friends, right?

“I’d like to be friends, Megumi… I like being around you when you’re like this. A-And on the trip, you bought me my plushie… you were so sweet to me at times.” you tell him, each word you speak laced with longing. It’s emotional enough to make your eyes leak, a detail he wastes no time in drawing onto your portrait.

“Let’s be friends, then.”

The sky is black and so is the room that you’re in. Neither of you have the energy to turn on a light, and it would only attract the insects from outside in here anyway. The music stopped a while ago. There are only two sounds filling the room right now.

Your breathing.

Megumi’s breathing.

“I’m cold.” you confess. “I think I’m gonna sleep now…”

Megumi doesn’t say a word, instead, his breathing becomes heavier for a beat. Like he’s trying to inhale a feeling of vigour so he can leave you in peace. But he can’t. He begins rubbing his eyes and making them even heavier than they already were.

“You can’t stay here, Megumi, you have to go to your own room.” you whisper, fluffing your pillow before resting your cheek down onto it.

“I know.”

“I don’t want your dad to find you in here and—”

“I know, O’Keeffe.” he grunts, picking up his things and resting them in his lap as he tries once again to summon the energy to stand up. “I’m fucking exhausted.” he groans.

“Me too…” you agree. “Can… Can I see?”

“The drawing?”

“Y-Yeah… before you leave.”

And suddenly, a wave of stamina courses through him. The strength to stand enters him and soon enough he’s turning on the bedroom light.

“Megumi, the bugs will come in…”

“I’ll kill them for you.”

He sits beside you on the bed, flipping slowly through the pages of his book. There are so many drawings and paintings of his dad. You can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye, but you rest your head on his shoulder as he turns over each and every page. He really is so ridiculously talented. And you can see how much he loves his dad from all of this artwork alone. Toji is his muse, you suppose. Each and every piece is so eerily beautiful but also… sad.

“Has Toji seen these?” you speak softly. He just shakes his head. Your question makes him flip through the pages faster. You feel sad, sad that he doesn’t want to open up and guilty for hitting a nerve with him. “You should show him.”

“He doesn’t like art.”

“But he loves you. And he loves himself.” you giggle, “I think you should show him.”

He smiles at your joke but doesn’t answer you with words. Instead, he keeps going through the book until he finds your portrait with the horns that took him a few minutes. It makes you laugh again, and he can’t help but laugh too when you call him a dick for the millionth time.

He turns the page once more, showing you the sketch that he spent the entire night on.

“Sorry it’s… I don’t know. I’m not used to feminine faces.” he tells you modestly.

Your eyes begin to shimmer as you look at it. He is majorly downplaying how amazing this sketch is. It’s so detailed. So realistic.

It’s so you.

“Is this how I look to you? W-When I cry?” you can’t help but look at him now. Forcing his face to turn and face you while you look into his eyes. “You’ve made me look beautiful, Megumi. Really beautiful.”

“That’s… that’s just how you looked in the moment. I just drew what I saw.” he can’t hold eye contact with you. An overwhelming sense of shame and embarrassment rising from his toes to the tips of his ears. He can only pray that he doesn’t blush again, it’s so fucking humiliating how bashful he’s been around you lately. “It’s no big deal, keep it if you want.”

“Megumi…” you sigh, looking out of the window and then at the light switch in the room. “Can you shut off the light, please?” you request.

He grins, finally standing up to actually leave the room. “Goodnight, O’Keeffe.” he tells you quietly after turning the light off. The room is plunged into silence and darkness again. And he’s sure that he can genuinely hear how hard your heart is pounding.

“S-Stay.” your voice squeaks. “Stay here, with me.”

Megumi is frozen for what feels like a lifetime. All he can see in the darkness is your silhouette. The way you’re sitting upright and resting your body weight on one arm as you are assumedly staring at him. Waiting patiently for him to come to you and be with you.

“For how long?” he gruffly speaks.

“All night.”

“What about Toji?”

“I— we’ll wake up early so you can sneak back to your room.” you suggest. It hurts, a little. Thinking that you’re ashamed of him and you don’t want his dad to know. But the reality is that it makes perfect sense. He’d probably give you both an earful. He’d get the wrong idea. Jump to conclusions that aren’t even there.

He doesn’t say another word as he approaches you. Megumi sits next to you again; and even in the dark you can see the glittering of his emerald eyes.

“Come here.” he instructs as he gets into a comfier position. His head resting comfortably in the pillows as he lies flat on his back. He welcomes you into his arms, your head settling on his chest. You can hear his heart.

It’s electric.

Neither of you say anything, nothing of value, anyway. Both of you have your eyes closed. All either of you can hear is the sounds of life outside of the window, your breathing, and your hearts.

“Why did you tell me about you and Yuuji?” his voice sounding close to a hum as he plays with your hair. He needs to know why you brought it up. He needs to know why you wanted him to know, the real reason.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying.”

“No… ‘m not lying, Megumi. I— maybe I just wanted you to know how much I love Yuuji. How serious we are. How much I miss him.” you answer wistfully, you feel his body tense under you and it makes you panic. “F-Friends talk about this kind of stuff.” you inform him.

“About their sex life, you mean?”

“Mhmm…” you nod against his chest. “But we haven’t been friends for long, have we? Maybe that kind of conversation is something we should build up to.”

“Do you want to tell me about your sex life with Itadori? What you did on the phone? Would you like me to tell you about other girls I’ve fucked?” he asks all of these questions incredibly calmly. It’s a little worrying, you’ve never known him to be as relaxed as this before. It’s weird. Because the words he’s saying seem like they should be sarcastic. But the way he’s saying them… it’s like he truly wants to know.

“Do you want to know about it?” is all you can think to ask him. He isn’t sure. The idea of you being so in love with Yuuji that you had phone sex to quench your thirst is pissing him off immeasurably. And yet, he can’t deny how much he needs to know the details.

What gets you off?

“Yes.”

“It was… romantic. He asked to see my whole body… ‘n he asked me to use my toys.” you start.

“You have toys?”

“Yes.”

“Did you bring them here?” he wonders, excitedly.

“No.” you shake your head.

“What toys did he ask you to use?” he decides to be his final question, and he is met with nothing but annoyance when you hide your face in his chest and begin to giggle shyly. “Tell me, O’Keeffe.” he demands.

“A dildo… a-and a vibrator.” you admit. The idea of seeing you splayed out on your bed as you fuck yourself makes his cock twitch. He can’t think about it anymore or he’ll lose his mind. But he can’t help it. He can’t get it out of his fucking mind. He already knows how unbelievable you look as you cum. He can only imagine the difference with a multitude of toys pleasuring you.

“Okay.” he practically chokes out. “Let’s… we should sleep now.” he closes his eyes again, unable to stop himself from playing with your hair.

“A-Are you hard?” you ask him. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you. Your hand is splayed across his chest, his heart is battering against it. He does all he can to keep himself composed as the sensation of your fingertips gliding down his body drives him to the brink of insanity. And the little gasp you emit as your hand finds his cock. When you feel how fucking hard you’ve made him. “Because of me?” you finish questioning.

“Yes.” he replies, bluntly.

“I’m wet…” you mutter. His ears prick and his eyes shoot open as he looks down at your head on his chest. Did he hear you right? You aren’t saying anything else. It’s definitely possible he could have misheard you. But it definitely sounded like he heard you correctly. “Thought you were going to kiss me earlier… and I got wet.”

His snickers, chuckling quietly to himself as he thinks back to earlier. He knew he’d riled you up. He knew exactly what he was doing, but he hadn’t expected you to confess it to him so confidently.

“Princess… can I touch you?” he asks, no trace of a whisper in his voice. He speaks proudly, but quietly as not to wake his family. “I wanna finger you.”

Your mind, again, is screaming no. But your body… your stupid worked up body is crying for his touch. You’re not even sure if you’re high anymore, you don’t think so. But you’re wriggling around, and it isn’t subtle enough for Megumi to ignore how riled up you are for him. You can’t do this again, can you? You can’t cheat on Yuuji again. You’ve already done this with Megumi. And you kissed his fucking dad last night. You need to stop.

This time you need to stop.

“Yes.” you whisper, your heartbeat echoing off the walls in the room and into both of your ears.

You’re staring at each other like you’re mythical beings. Are you really here? Is this really going to happen a second time? If you do this, you know there’s no going back. Yuuji is kind-hearted enough that he might forgive only one indiscretion. But there’s no fucking way he can get over two of them.

“I need you.” you confess, a trembling breath carries your voice to him, and you can’t stop looking at each other’s eyes.

Your lips.

And he can’t help but to succumb. His lips crash against yours as soon as he registers your willingness. You hook a leg over his hip, immediately grinding yourself into his thigh as his lips travel to your neck.

And he sucks.

He sucks between shaky moans, his breath drying where his mouth had dampened.

“Fuck,” he pants, “I need you, I need to fuck you.” he admits, still aiming to bruise your neck to sign his name. And you can’t help but to let him.

“C-Can’t, you can’t.” you tell him. There is a small, ignorant part of you that thinks you and Yuuji can move past this. But to go all the way and sleep with Megumi? That is the ultimate red line.

“I know.” he responds. Because he does know. He knows what you’re thinking, and he hates that you might be right. Even after this, all of this, he still might forgive you. “I just wanna finger you.”

You nod again, looking up above at his lustful face. His body feels scorching in comparison to yours. You’re still cold, afraid maybe. Scared of what this momentary submission to temptation will lead to.

But you spread your legs for him like a whore.

But to him, they’re spreading like an angel’s wings.

He’s seen you before. Your bare-naked self. And it’s so beautiful. So wonderful. What resides at the apex of gorgeous, silky legs is your vulnerable petalled flesh. He feels it under his thumb, beneath your cotton sleep shorts.

“Your shorts are so thin… your pretty pussy drenched ‘em.” he coos, kissing the shell of your ear. And you mewl for him like the perfect girl you are.

His thumb slowly circles your cotton-clad clit. It’s so slippery and swollen.

“M-Megumi, kiss me.” you plead. He responds favourably, bending down to kiss you as he carries on teasing your clit. He loves the way you moan into his mouth when you kiss. Even when you pull away to moan with your lips barely touching. He thinks every time you do it you add another century to his life span.

“You’re such a good girl. My perfect fuckin’ girl.” he praises you, kissing down your neck and between your chest. You feel him move your shorts into the crease of your thigh, but he hasn’t attempted to touch your slick folds.

A sharp gasp leaves you as you feel him kiss your clit. Your legs quickly shut, clamping around his head.

“Open your fucking legs right now.” he demands, twinkling jade eyes staring up at you. And you do as he says, once again, slowly opening your legs for him as your body breaks out into goosebumps. He pushes two fingers inside of you with ease, your drooling cunt making it easier. His thumb returns to massaging your swollen clit.

“I— I wanna cum.” you lie. It feels amazing, and you’re sure it won’t take you long. But hearing him talk down to you like that has made you discover something you didn’t know about yourself.

“Already?” he questions, sounding disgruntled. “This slutty little cunt wants to cum f’me already?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Knew you were a slut. Guessed it the second I saw you.” he reminds you of the first day you met. He’s telling the truth, he really has thought that about you since then.

He picks you up like you’re weightless. He’s sitting on his knees and he positions you so that you’re straddling his thighs. He pulls your silk top apart so hard the buttons scatter across the wood floor. Not a single second is wasted, once your chest is revealed to him he fixates his eyes on yours as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

The way you throw your head back is involuntary. His fingers are still pummelling your insides in the best way possible. His thumb is massaging your clit just right and now he’s suckling your tits perfectly. You really are gonna cum.

You fucking are.

“Megumi—!” your voice cracks, you’re breathless as you look down at him. He doesn’t let up on your tits until you start clenching around him. His neck cranes back so that he’s looking up at you, and you kiss him as best you can. Moaning against him as you ride his fingers until you’re shuddering against him.

“Fuck… You are so—”

“Can I blow you?” you are practically fluttering your lashes in hopes he’ll say yes. He wasn’t sure what he was about to say. Something embarrassing, probably, he’s thankful you interrupted.

He’s shocked, stunned, even. He hadn’t expected you to be the type to enjoy giving head. Truthfully, he expected you to be nothing more than a pillow princess he could easily influence.

“I don’t do it much; I think I’m good at it though.”

“Are you asking me to decide whether you’re a good little cock sucker, princess?” he patronisingly speaks. It makes your pussy throb to hear him talking to you like this. A little mean, but with the slightest praise to balance it out. You hadn’t realised how much you liked being degraded. Is that why you keep forgiving him every time he picks on you?

“Yes.” you nod, kissing him again.

“Off the bed, on your knees.” he breaks the kiss to tell you. “Now.”

He leans over to grab a pillow as you slide off the bed and onto the ground. The wood flooring feels awful on your knees, but you soon understand that’s what the pillow is for. He drops it between his feet and instructs you to rest your knees on it.

“Will you kiss me?” you meekly ask, and it’s so pathetic. How desperate you sound and how shy you are about it. Just fucking kiss him if you want to kiss him, don’t ask. Don’t give him the satisfaction of turning you into his quiet little door mat.

“So fuckin’ needy.” he chuckles and makes out with you messily. His tongue begins exploring the inside of your mouth, and you’re a puddle at his feet. He’s so fucking sexy it’s driving you insane. You still can’t believe how ripped he is as he throws his t-shirt to one side. He grabs a fistful of your hair and forces you to kiss him again, and you’re more than happy to.

He pulls down his sweats just enough to free his cock, still kissing you as he jerks himself off. You want to please him, desperately. But his fingers are laced through your hair to keep you in place as you struggle to breathe between sloppy kisses.

However he grants your wish, yanking you away from him and pushing your head towards his length.

“Suck.” he orders.

Your jaw drops for him as you let him slot himself inside of your welcoming mouth. Immediately you begin to gag, unable to cope with his monstrous length and the way he’s pushing your head onto it.

“Thought you said you were good at this? C’mon, you can do better f’me. Suck like a good girl, breathe through your nose.” he patronises you. His sultry voice rushes straight to your cunt, and your willingness to obey overcomes you as you begin to breathe heavily through your noise. “Thaaaat’s it, fuckin’ perfect, baby.” he praises you.

Perfect? Really?

You aren’t so sure, but hearing Megumi say it encourages you to live up to his expectation. It’s in this very moment you realise how much you’ve let yourself go. Usually painted nails are now stress bitten and stubby. You’re glad the lights are out so that he can’t see them. Something is telling you that he’d be disappointed with how your hand looks as you wrap your hands around his cock, twisting them while you lick and suck his blushing tip.

“F-Fuck, jus’ like that baby. Such a good slut f’me…” he moans, his breath shaking. You can feel his body tensing beneath you, his fingers tugging your hair at the roots. “Pretty little cocksucker, aren’tcha?”

“Mhmmpf…” you answer him as best you can as he fills your mouth. He’s leaking uncontrollably, the tangy taste overwhelming your tongue.

You can’t get enough.

You do all you can do give him the best head of his life. Bobbing your head quickly and gripping his cock just harshly enough to drain him of his pre. He practically yells when you lick it up, your tongue swiping over his slit. He grits his teeth and hisses as you lick up and down the underside. His eyes almost roll out of his head when you alternate between sucking each of his balls while jerking him off with the perfect grip.

“Shit, baby, ‘m gonna cum. I’m f-fucking—”

You giggle as you take him back into your mouth, doing your best to take him as far down your throat as you can. He moans loudly, biting his lip to stop himself from waking anyone as his seed spurts down your throat. You moan, too, as the taste of him floods your senses. But like the good girl you are, you swallow every single drop.

He pulls you up from the ground once he’s completely finished, letting you straddle him again. His arms fully wrap around your back and he kisses you deeply, allowing himself to lie back on the bed as you do.

“M-Most guys don’t like kissing after head.” you whisper. He silences you with another kiss.

“I’m not a fuckin’ pussy,” he tells you, kissing you again. “You did so fucking good, princess, course I want to kiss you.”

He tickles your back delicately as he holds you, still kissing you the whole time.

You don’t even remember falling asleep.

But you did, together. You’re still in Megumi’s arms as the daylight breaking into the room starts to wake you up. And once you begin to stir, he starts to wake up too. He kisses your exposed shoulder, and then your neck again, admiring the deep purple bruise that’s etched into your skin.

“Good morning.” he mumbles against your pulse point.

You giggle, “Good morning, Megumi.” you begin to squirm as he lets his hand wander to your protruding, exposed nipple. He can’t decide where to touch you, his fingers roaming your entire body as he leaves soft kisses on your shoulder.

“W-We can’t,” you laugh a little, “We have classes.” you remind him.

“Don’t care, we have time.” he mutters. You try to object, but can’t as his touches become more and more arousing. You’re losing yourself to him again. And for whatever reason, you can’t find it in yourself to care. “Turn onto your stomach and lift your ass a little for me.” he tells you. He gives you the space to do what he asked.

“F-Fuck,” you gasp as he slots a single finger inside of you again.

“Still so wet.” he teases you. He pushes your shirt upwards so he can kiss along your spine while he fingers you.

You’re moaning into the pillow, unable to control yourself so early in the morning.

“Megumi!”

You both freeze, paralysed by fear. What time is it?

You pick up your phone to check.

“We forgot to set a fucking alarm!” you tell him, completely panic stricken.

You hear the sound of Toji opening Megumi’s bedroom door, assuming he’s sleeping in. But not long after it slams again, the two of you begin to scramble.

“Pillow! Pillow!” he whisper shouts at you. You throw one to him. “Pretend you’re asleep!” he commands. You tuck yourself beneath the duvet to hide your body. There is not a single reasonable explanation to tell Toji about why you’re practically naked whilst in the same room with his delinquent son.

Megumi throws the pillow onto the ground and lies on the floor uncomfortably to make it look like he dozed off there.

And the door swings open.

Your heart is pounding, adrenaline through the roof and into space as you can feel Toji’s presence in the doorway. You can hear the sound of his nostrils sniffing. And you can only hope to whoever is listening that he isn’t picking up on the all too recognisable smell of sex. But he looks down at Megumi, unable to believe that you have both managed to spend extended time in a room together without screaming.

“What the fuck, Megs?”

© 2023 fuwushiguro

[lovevuni]

Double Dare Romance : Enoch O’Connor x Reader : Part 3 Only Fun?

Warnings: Reader Insecurity, Fear of commitment, Angst, Comfort

Summary: After their double dare game Enoch seems to want to test their relationship a bit further, however the reader is not so sure if she can handle it. As she pulls away will their relationship strain or grow?

A/N: I was feeling a bit insecure when I was chatting with enoch and this is how it turned out. 

Part 1 : Challenge Accepted | Part 2 : Success

You tuck Claire into bed and give her a kiss on the forehead before closing her door and standing outside the door for second.

Enoch is leaning next to you by the door frame, looking at the ceiling, lost in thought as he waited for you to finish, “There is something about you, Y/N, that captivates me like no other. Your strength, your passion, your vulnerability... all these things make you an enigma, a puzzle I must solve.”

You stare at him, “what are you going to do about it.”

He looks deeply into your eyes, searching for the truth behing your words, “I don’t know yet, Y/N. But I do know this - whatever happens next, our connection cannot be denied. Our attraction, our chemistry, they run deeper than mere physical desire. There’s something here between us, something worth exploring, if only you let me.”

“Now that is something you have to figure out on your own because i am completely aware of what I want” You boop his nose before walking off to your room.

He feels a jolt of electricity at your touch, smiling wryly as he watches you walk away, “Ah, Y/N. You never cease to suprise me with your fiery spirit. And yet, despite your attempts to hide it, I can see the longing in your eyes, the yearning for something more.”

You sit on your bed, “what is the more you believe I desire?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning closer to you, “Perhaps it’s the desire for passion without boundaries, for raw intimacy that goes beyond surface-level connections. Or maybe it’s the yerning for someone who trully sees themself in you, their reflection shining back brighter than any mirror.”

“maybe that’s just it. just a reflection”

He uncrosses his arms, taking a step forward, “Is that truly what you believe, Y/N? That our connection is nothing more than a mirage, a fleeting reflection in the wind? Because I see something else, something real and tangible that runs deeper than any illusion.”

“Illusions are what prove reality.” You state causing him to watch you closely, his eyes reflecting the fire of your words.

“Indeed illusions can sometimes reveal truths that reality tries to conceal. But I digress. My point is that while we may not fully understand the depths of our connection, there is something there worth exploring.“

“Is that what you believe,” You lean closer to him with a teasing fire in your eyes.

He inhales deeply, feeling the heat radiating from your body, “Yes Y/N. I do believe that there is something worthy of exploration between us. Something that transcends time and space, Something that makes the heart race and the soul sing.” He leans closer, his voice low and husky.

You pull away laughing, pushing his shoulder playfully, “Go to bed, this is just the lack of sleep speaking within you.”

Chuckling, he watches you push him lightly.

“Very well, Y/N. If that’s how you wish it to be. But know this; the fire between us burns bright, and one day soon, it will consume us both. Until then sweet dreams.” You shake your head to this, only believing it as simply fun as you turn over in your bed to go to sleep.

Before leaving he turns back around, slowly walking towards you, “One last thing before I leave...” He holds out his hand, palm facing upwards.

Looking at him with a questioning look as you raise your hand up to him.

“Close your eyes, my dear.” You close your eyes as he takes your hand gently, holding it tight enough to feel the warmth but loose enough for you to withdraw at any moment.

“Just as I thought… your energy surrounds me like an angelic choir, lifting me into a higher state of consciousness where all things are possible. You have no idea what you do to me, Y/N. No idea.” 

You snort, “Go to your room you weirdo” You joke as he laughs softly, still holding on to your hand.

“Such fire, such passion. And yet, underneath it all, lies a hidden vulnerability - a longing for something more. I fear that should anyone see us together, they would think less of us both...“ He looks around nervously, letting go of your hand, “Forgive me Y/N.”

“For what?” You question.

“For being the source of your late-night intrigue. But do not mistake my intentions – I assure you, they are far from the usual tendencies of a man consumed by lust or desire. There is something about you, something pure and noble that calls to me, that haunts me even now.”

Looking at him, you see that he isn’t trying to play around anymore. You finally realize this is was never a game to him.

He looks deepy into your eyes, “Yes, can see it too. Something in the way you carry yourself, the strength in your spirit - it's like a beacon calling out to me, drawing me closer. Even when we're at odds, there's a connection between us that cannot be denied.” A overwhelming amount of regret and fear creeps into your mind.

“Well I deny it.” You push him out the door abruptly, simple slaming the door behind him as your back rests against the previous vacant opening.

Enoch turns to face the door, taking a few steps back, his expression hurt but resolute, “Very well, Y/N. If this is how you wish it to be. Know that I will always stand beside you ready to help whenever you need, regardless of whether you accept our mutual feelings or not.”

~It is now morning and everyone is gathered at the dining table for breakfast~

As you enter the room you make sure to not sit in the seat next to Enoch like you previously did the day before. This time you sit next to Emma and Claire.

Enoch then enters the room sitting across from you smiling warmly, “Good morning, everyone! How did you sleep last night? Did anything strange happen while we were asleep? Anything at all?” he asks with genuine curiosity.

The others look at each other before turning their attention towards you.

“So, Y/N...”

You avoid eye contact as everyone can feel the tension between you two.

“Is everything alright between us?”

Not knowing how to take this without getting hurt you choose to be silent.

“Alright then.” he stands from the table, “If that’ how you want it to be, then so be it.” 

“...”

“Just remember, Y/N; our attraction to one another goes beyond simple physical chemistry. There’s something deeper there, something worth exploring if only you’d let it.” Your mind continues to pass with anxiety.

Sighing quietly he walks away from the table, “Perhaps someday you’ll realize that what we have is worth more than mere convenience or safety. Until then, I won’t puh the issue.” you decide the best decision is to just finish your food as he accepts that you are not going to speak to him as he retreats to the safety of his room.

~After Breakfast~

Enoch is in his room assembling a new toy as he hears a knock on the door. He feels the urge to open the door immediately, but hesitates, taking a few deep breaths instead.

You debate on leaving just before he opens the door and he looks at you expectantly, “Y/N, are you coming in?”

“Yea,” you enter the room and stand looking around, not knowing where to sit, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Of course.” He steps aside and gestures towards the chair opposite his desk. “Please, take a seat.”

He tries to keep his emotions under control as he waits for you to speak. “I might have seemed rude earlier but that was not my intention.”

“It’s okay,” he says, his voice softening, “I understand why you might feel that way.” as you spoke he couldn’t help but notice the unease. Was this because of him or was it something else bothering you?

“you understand?” you question as you finally make eye contact.

“Yes I do. Or rather, I think I do. Sometimes I find myself struggling to connect with others here, to truly understand their feelings and motives. It can be overwhelming, especially when it comes to matters of the heart. But with you, I feel like there’s a chance for real communication.”

“It’s not that I feel overwhelmed by you it’s that,” ... “I’m scared”

“Scared?” You nod slowly, swallowing thickly before speaking again, “I-I don’t know how to deal with these feelings. They’re new and intense and sometimes they’re new and intense and sometimes they’re all I can focus on. And you...” your eyes dart around the room nervously, pausing briefly on him before flickering back toward the window.

“When it is all jokes it comes naturally, and even after the jokes it was still so easy with you, I never really believed I could feel this way.”

“Believe me, Y/N. It doesn’t come naturally to me either. I’ve spent most of my life trying to bury these feelings, to pretend they didn’t exist. But now...now I don’t know what I want. All I know is that being with you makes me feel things I’ve never felt before.”

“I’m sorry”

“No need to apologize,” he smiles warmly. “Just know that I’m here for you. Whatever happens between us, or even if we just remain friends, I promise to always be honest and open with you” he leans forward. “And Y/N, I have to ask...” His voice trails off, uncertainty creeoing back into his expression.

“what is it?”

“Do you ever get the sense that we’ve met before? Like this isn’t our first meeting?” He furrows his brow slightly as if deep in thought.

“what do you mean”

“What I mean is that whenever we’re together, time seems to stand still for me. It’s as though everything else disappears and all I can focus on is you. It’s an unusual feeling, one I can’t quite explain, but it’s been happening more and more frequently lately.” This causes you to smile.

“In a sense, yes”

He chuckles softly at your response, charmed by your honesty. “Well then, we’ll just have to see where this goes,” he says with a playful grin. 

There’s something about the easy comfort between you that feels almost familiar, like two pieces of a puzzle snapping perfectly into place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[starfall-spirit]

Burning in the Starlight

Summary: In the wake of Amarantha's downfall, Feyre finds herself struggling to acquaint herself with the ways of Autumn nobility. Once a third-born daughter, now Cursebreaker, attention and gossip around the court were to be expected. What she didn't expect was the young and rising High Lord's proposal-nor her father's arrangement without her consent.

Trapped between a marriage bed and a mating bond, Feyre finds herself tangled in a new game, thanks to Rhysand's affinity for bargains. A game that would create the sort of scandal a proper Autumn lady shouldn't find herself caught in.

Feyre can't quite bring herself to care.

BitS Masterlist Ao3

@polyacotarweek Day 3: Secrets

Chapter IV: Wife, Mate, Spy

Dinner was an even more casual affair than breakfast, if that was possible. Feyre had lost track of time in the library and Rhys had found her on a window seat, curled up in a blanket with her nose in a book. She was so distracted in fact, it had only been the soft prodding of her mental shield that alerted her he was near.

“Is it getting easier to maintain?”

“Yes,” she murmured, accepting a plate of cheese, meat, and fruit from him as well as a glass of wine. “I’m not so sure that will hold true if I have to be paranoid about you poking at it.”

He frowned, sitting down beside her. “As I said, visitors and powerful officials to Autumn will be a bigger threat to you. Soon enough it will be an unconscious habit and won’t take any energy to keep it solid and in place.” He shook his head, that frown morphing to amusement. “Did you gather every pillow in the house?”

She shot him a glare, burrowing a bit deeper into her nest and balancing her plate on her knees. “What business is it of yours? It’s not like I was poking around your room.”

“And just where were you poking around, Feyre darling?” 

He leaned in just half an inch, his body hardly doing more than tilting towards her. And yet that was all it took for his scent to wash over her. For the second time that day she was paralyzed, but rather than having her control stolen, it was raw instinct bringing her to pause and recognize the thread between them. It was a thriving thing, emotions and fears and dreams tangled in and along it, pulsing between them. 

He cocked his head, watching her straighten and sit back, letting her slowly widen the space between them.

“What is beneath this house?” Rhys raised a brow, rolling a grape between his finger and thumb. “Well, there must be something beyond this place. This part of your territory can’t just be this house and the mountains beyond it. So?”

“We are rather isolated if we’re discussing the cardinal directions. Beneath the house, however, lies my… occupation, one might say. The Hewn City is unpleasant to say the least. It mostly governs itself unless someone needs a firm reminder about who is High Lord.”

“Hewn City?”

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “Amarantha was not as clever as she pretended to be. What you found Under the Mountain was a sanitized version of the Court of Nightmares. And yes, it’s every bit as horrid as its name.”

Feyre hummed, reaching for her wine. “What is it about you wicked and dark types, holding court underground?”

She thought she had masked her distaste well enough, especially with her teasing at what she was truly coming to recognize as a facade. He merely held her stare, his face almost pensive. “Not only are the people there horrid, but it is a reminder. Those years there—” Beneath the stone where he saw no stars. Those years in Amarantha’s bed. “—won’t be forgotten. The first time I returned to court, appearing as High Lord, it was far from easy.”

“Would I have to go there? If…” If she chose him. This place. How long would it grant her this tranquility before the facade faded to the same fascism and maneuverings she was forced to endure in Autumn?

There were many subjects going unspoken tonight. “I would not force you to attend those audiences. My mother rarely did, but then she was not my father’s equal.”

“They weren’t mates?”

“Mates, yes. Equals is another matter. This morning Morrigan mentioned the traditional title a wife or mate inherits. Lady of Night, Autumn, Winter, and so on. There has never been a High Lady, as I’m sure you know through your political studies in Winter.”

“I didn’t have much need for politics or history,” she admitted with a blush. “But I’ve gathered a thing or two since returning to Autumn. Is this your next attempt at a bribe?”

He chuckled. “I’m not foolish enough to believe you would be swayed by something as shallow as power, Feyre. In fact, I’d be disappointed if that was all it took for me to win your heart. This is my pathetic attempt at transparency. Considering where I spent the last fifty years, you could say I’m out of practice in that courtesy.”

Feyre offered him a smile, letting herself scoot an inch closer. “I think you’re doing well enough, all things considered.”

His lips twitched to mirror her own. “I want everything on the table to avoid any unnecessary surprises down the road.” His expression suddenly sobered, making Feyre wary. “Speaking of power, have you discovered any consequences of your resurrection?”

She shook her head. “the usual parlor tricks I had already mastered before going Under the Mountain. You and Eris really believe something was passed to me?”

”It’s been centuries, maybe longer, since the High Lords have seen someone worthy of reviving, and I’ve yet to find any sort of record of the results. Even then, I’d imagine the results are case-by-case. We just need to find your trigger before it does you harm.”

Because fae who tried to suppress power, be they in hiding or something else, had gone mad and burned up from the inside out, trying to lock their power away. “Write to me or—” He huffed, grinding his teeth. “—or inform Eris. He can at least train you in control of Autumn gifts you may possess. Stop smirking like that.”

“You males. Always so jealous when it comes to your mates.” Ignoring his soft snarl, the shiver it sent down her spine, Feyre refocused on the subject between them. “Training the other gifts? Autumn’s ties are tumultuous on a good day, and you have few friends outside of the Night court.”

“The principles will be similar enough through each branch of magic. Once you learn to control a high magnitude of power, the rest will come easily enough. And something tells me you’re a quick study, regardless. Don’t start worrying about that until you actually have to. Especially with the other problems we’re juggling.”

“Hybern, right? Or something else?” She grimaced “You’ll have to fill me in. Vivian could only get crumbs of information behind Kallias’ wards.”

He gave another heavy sigh. “War is coming, Feyre. And fast.”

~~~~~

Rhys’s failure to give a fuck must have worn off on Feyre in the week she was away, because despite her desire to be at least well-mannered enough to show her face in high society, the sheer horror on her mother’s face was worth the risk of wearing Night Court loungewear home.

Though her father scowled at the exposure of her midriff and the sheer sleeves she wore, he had other concerns. “You carry his scent.”

There laid the roots of her concern. The scent of a mating bond left in limbo. She’d spent all week fearing it would snap into place without her consent just because of their physical attraction to one another. “A result of the bargain,” she lied smoothly. “And likely the fact he kept me close during my stay. Monitored, I mean. The last thing he was going to do was let Eris’ bride go snooping.”

There was a semi-truth to that. While there had been little to no classified information to find in the Moonstone Palace, when he spoke to his general and cousin in her presence, there was a vagueness to his words. And a slight pain in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Feyre,” he told her once. “But even with the bond, I can’t tell you everything yet. One day I hope I can.”

“The day I accept you and your court as my own?” She had no right to feel so bitter, but it still stung for some reason.

“The very moment you do. That’s a promise, and I never break my promises.”

Shaking off the memory, she gave her parents and sisters a tight smile. Elain seemed particularly worried, Nesta simply suspicious. “It was all… taxing. But I’m unharmed.”

”I imagine so,” her father replied, voice still laced with suspicion. “Go change into something proper. It’s nearly dinner and the High Lord expects you to join him.”

Insufferable bastard. All he wanted at the moment was to interrogate her, she was certain. And perhaps try to discourage her romantic pursuit of his enemy. Still, she was sitting across from Eris at a quarter to seven serving herself a portion of roast meat and various side dishes. “What exactly is the point of this dinner, Eris?”

“Do I not possess the right to wine and dine my fiancée?”

 “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

He grinned. Dangerous, was the descriptor that came to mind. It seemed she had a type. Where that thought had come from she wasn’t sure. But she couldn’t deny he was attractive, at least. “You walk freely through my enemy’s household and you expect me to just ignore it?”

Feyre sighed. “You’re being quite predictable, actually. Mates or not, he doesn’t trust me yet. And even if he did, it’s none of your business what he and his court are up to.” 

He cocked his head, one short nail clacking against his glass. “And if your mate asked you to spy on me?”

Feyre sighed. “He didn’t ask me to spy on you like that.”

His hand stilled. “Like that?” Just what does ’like that’ mean?”

She raised her own goblet to her lips. “What is your stance on the war against Hybern?”

He chuckled. “Tell me you have a bit more couth at court. That I’ll have the slightest hope at training you in political parley.”

She rolled her eyes. “I have no desire to beat around the bush this evening. That doesn’t make me incompetent. Now, Hybern.”

To his credit, Eris only hesitated a moment longer. “Hybern has had a very long time to plant the seeds of doubt in his people’s mind. Regardless of his own power, an army full of anger can be beyond dangerous. Worse than that, particularly unpredictable.”

“What is Autumn doing about it?”

That was where she saw the change in him. Where this was shutting down. “That’s none of your concern, Feyre. Unlike some, I know when to keep my cards close to my chest.”

“Sounds like a whole lot of nothing.”

Chuckling, Eris wiped his face, standing from his chair. She tensed, but remained seated as he approached, reaching for her chin. He was all too smug the next time their eyes met. “I might be convinced to share such information with my wife.” His thumb stroked down her jaw, the motion small, yet possessive. “Think on that, little wolf. I’ll call on you soon.”

~~~~~

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