#ways that wouldn't really hurt Creation

[soulsxng]

The Corruption, as told by Creation to the masses

So, during the gathering of leaders/rulers/deities/powerful and influential beings throughout the realms, Creation is going to explain the Corruption. This is so that they'll have a (hopefully) easier time controlling the spread of it, as well as tracking it. However, telling people that another Creationary being (or beings, potentially) from another existence entirely separate from this one are trying to break in and take control from the Creationary Trio...would cause a lot of panic, a lot of confusion, and probably a lot of chaos when some people try to take advantage of the situation during an already strenuous time.

Because of this, they've decided to...well, to lie. So long as people know what the Corruption's symptoms are (which can be seen here, btw!), and generally what it's doing to people, as well as how it spreads...the rest doesn't necessarily need to be truthful. Especially if that means avoiding a whole shitstorm of other issues on top of the Corruption.

They'll be telling everyone that, due to a mass of energy that was forced through the Void some couple days prior, the Well of Creation was damaged. As many beings with a connection to the Void will have felt said burst from when Irazor triggered it with his death by Darrow's hands, that won't be too farfetched to prove.

Some people might get the idea of trying something similar again, but because the Well isn't actually damaged, and even a burst of energy that large wouldn't have done anything if it hadn't already been targeting a weak point in the veil. A weak point that nobody aside from other Creationary beings/those that Creation has allowed to use/see the raw energy that they use, are even able to perceive.

Meaning, the worst that would happen is that Lerato gets some extra energy to eat. Not a huge deal, unless they manage to get lucky and hit that one little spot in the entirety of the Void.

From there, they'll go on to explain that because of this damage, there's more raw creationary energy spreading throughout the realms than there should be. This, they'll say, is what is causing the Corruption (and technically, they're not entirely wrong, as raw creationary energy is the issue...just not the Trio's energy.), as an excess of this energy can essentially, well...corrupt what the energy turns into when used to make something, like another being, or a realm, or whatever else.

Cue laying out the symptoms and how it's spread, making sure people keep away from anyone or anything exhibiting those symptoms, and having plans laid out for where/how to quarantine people and things that are Corrupted. This will also include an introduction to one of "Our newest creations", Siffo. (possibly the biggest lie in the whole thing) Siffo, JJ, Tiariia, and Ber will be sent to places with larger outbreaks to help quarantine those effected, since "they can't be corrupted by normal means".

There's one big question that Ippuru in particular would answer before it's even asked, and that would be "Why can't Creation just fix it? Can't You take the energy back, and that's that?"

This would be explained away by saying that they can only hold so much energy within themselves at any given time...hence why there was a need for the Well in the first place. Though they could spend their time collecting all of the energy, they'd still have to put it back into the damaged Well. Essentially, it would slow down the problem, but wouldn't make any progress towards actually fixing it. Their focus needs to primarily go into fixing the Well (or, in reality, dealing with that other Creationary Being trying to get in), or the problem is going to persist.

Another small side note is that I think instead of mentioning voices specifically (especially since that would mean talking about the whole One True Voice thing), they'll say that one of the later symptoms is severe auditory hallucinations. That way, by the time people start thinking "Huh...it's a little weird that all of the later stage Corrupted are talking about the same thing...", they won't really be able to question Creation about it. Since...yknow. Most people can't contact them normally, let alone actually get to them.

Unless, of course, it's one of their "favorites", in which case Creation is likely to let them in on what's really happening, if they were to make contact, or go to see the Trio later on and asked.

This got kind of ramble-y, so tl'dr: Creation is going to lie and tell the people attending their announcement that the Corruption is being caused by the Well or Creation being damaged by a blast of energy that Irazor sent through the Void. The raw energy leaking out into existence is what's causing the problems. Symptoms and spread were discussed. Siffo was introduced to everyone. People were told the plans for quarantine of the individuals and other Corrupted things, and how to report it so that Siffo, JJ, Tiariia, and Ber can come and...essentially help to deal with it.

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ cloud nine p2.✦ 」

Mattheo riddle × reader [part1]

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

Warnings:angst, smut, fluff

Words: 13.5k

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[ A Cry for Help (and Hippogriffs)]

Dear Uncle Ben ,

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

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

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

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

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

Your distraught (and slightly heartbroken) niece,

Y/N

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

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

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Y/N

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

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

Love,

Uncle Ben

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Pregnant? Uncle Ben, seriously?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I saw him.

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

But then, our eyes met.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He backed away, eyes wide.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then I saw him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My heart hammered against my ribs,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My cheeks burned. As I laughed at what he said

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

" good girl , Come for me, love,"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Is that gonna fit?” 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I laughed, feeling the exhaustion starting to set in.

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

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅

BONUS SCENE.

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

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

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

"Uncle Ben? What are you doing here?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you're holding hands! "

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

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

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

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

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

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

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅

Tag list :

@avee-wavee @lovelyygirl8 @lovelyypythoness @timmychalametsstuff @sage-ove

[kichiyosh1]

"I made it with you in mind"

wanderer x reader

to think he'd end up finding joy in such a childish activity

✧: he ends up being mean at the beginning but he apologizes in his own special way, slight hurt/comfort but nothing major

(I'm back ig? idk :3)

He couldn't believe the absurdity to which you and the young archon were subjecting him to.

The sins committed by the former harbinger are things he won't refute or deny. Indeed such actions musn't go unpunished, but perhaps he's underestimated the extent of the dendro archon's mercy.

Mind explaining what all of this is supposed to be?" he knows, with just a single glance, he grasped what was about to unfold, he just couldn't believe it. There displayed before his very eyes, a colorful assortment of beads lay scattered across a wooden table.

"You've dabbled in arts and crafts before, haven't you? You could say I proposed the idea to Lord kusanali as a way to keep that evil little brain of yours occupied"

'What evil is there to be done in bracelet crafting of all things, huh?' he deadpanned while simultaneously picking up a bead, examining how it reflects the light that's passing through the crystalline windows.

He let out a scoff.

"Have you forgotten who I am? A being of celestial creation, lessened to do recreational activities such as these? how amusing." Pathetic was the word he was looking for. Seriously, do you really expect him to just sit down quietly and start passing beads on a string without complaint to how this is a hit on his pride? It'd be more fitting if you locked him up for all of eternity, but this, this was just mockery.

It was the warmth of your hand that snapped him out of his thoughts. Eyes widened before squinting, but he dared not move, curious to what it was you were doing. You had started to fasten a piece of string to his wrist, gentle with your touch, measuring it so that it'd fit securely, but not too tight to be uncomfortable.

"Who gave you permission to lay your hands on me?" The warmth of your touch was strangely starting to get to him. He swatted your hand away, any more of that and he wouldn't know how to react.

Both of you were now glaring at each other. "Is it that hard for you to accept someone's act of kindness? I'm just trying to help." You could've sworn there was a slight change in his eyes when you said that, but was quickly replaced by an irritated smirk on his face. "I don't recall ever asking for your help, go give it to someone who actually needs it." He waved you off before plopping himself down on one of the stools before suddenly picking out random beads and charms like he wasn't against the idea a moment ago.

With furrowed brows and your mouth left slightly agape by his rude behavior, your face settled on a frown. You were used to the wanderer's arrogance and unpleasant attitude towards people, but there are times where even you are left puzzled. You went out of your way to make sure the activities kusanali planned out wouldn't overwhelm him, she'd ask you if you were doing this out of pity for him. You firmly shook your head.

You simply cared for him, that's all there was to it, but it didn't seem like he reciprocated the motion. The last he's heard from you was a sigh, before the sound of your footsteps slowly leaving faded.

You haven't visited him since. I mean how could you? if he was going to act like a brat while you spent your time there then might as well steer clear out of his way. No, you weren't being petty, and even if you were, you most certainly had every right to be. You nodded to yourself, justifying your actions as wanderer just being an asshat and you being the more mature one in this situation.

It wasn't easy. There were times where you would cross paths when he was on break from his duties (and bracelet crafting), or times where he himself is actively seeking you out, and before he could even call out your name, you're already making a bee line towards the exit.

You sat yourself down, exhausted from all this running around. Another successful day of not coming into contact with the wanderer.

"Doesn't he have other businesses to attend to?" If he had time to be going around looking for you then surely he was slacking off, right?

"As far as I'm concerned, you are my business." Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"So how long do you plan on avoiding me?" he was standing behind you, face leaning down above your head as you met his gaze from your position on the bench.

You put on an air of annoyance before flicking his forehead, causing him to hiss and reel back from your attack as he rubbed the spot. "Hey! you deprive me of your company for days and now you dare assault my face? you-" you were already walking away, with the esteemed wanderer quickly following closely behind you.

"Hey", he reached for your hand, but you batted it away. It was definitely worth it to see the offended look on his face, but there was a small pang in your heart when you saw how his face faltered. "Who gave you permission to lay your hands on me? don't go acting all buddy buddy with me now." you crossed your arms, throwing back what he had said to you a few days ago.

"ah, you're upset with me about last time." You kept a stern look on your face, expecting for more, but if he failed to deliver then you'd have no trouble turning away from him again.

His mouth kept opening and closing similar to that of a goldfish, but no words came out. He looks conflicted. It took him a whole minute to sort out his thoughts, and with a deep sigh he spoke.

"The way I reacted, it was uncalled for. Like you said, you were only trying to help and I should have, I, it's just the way you held my hand, it made me feel weird." his gaze turned downcast feeling a little embarrassed by getting riled up by something so minor as physical contact.

you don't know that of course, you'd just assume he was really really ticklish in some areas

Would you mind closing your eyes for a moment? I promise It'll only take a second", the soft spoken tone he's taken on is foreign to you, but not unwelcome. You were hesitant but complied. And if he does anything funny you'll make sure to write a full on report about it to kusanali.

You could only feel how he softly held your hand, how he delicately glided his dainty finger in order to tie what you assumed was a,

a bracelet?

You opened your eyes and that's when he leaned in, his soft breath near your ear "It was supposed to be a surprise gift, but an apology gift works too." your face felt warm, and your hand did too (to which he was still holding). Was this the weird feeling he was talking about.

A moment after, you examined the accessory on your wrist.

and my was it beautiful.

The main colors of the bracelet were your favorite colors, accompanied by beautiful white pearl beads and crystal flowers and cute charms. Truly something you wouldn't expect the wanderer himself to make.

You released a small laugh, happiness spreading throughout your system. "Did you really make this?" You were starting to look too happy for his liking, but of course you always looked more beautiful with a smile on your face. He scoffed in order to hide the ever creeping happiness that was also starting to spread across his face.

"Is it that hard to believe? I had you in mind when I made it after all, so if you're going to complain about its design then the person used as reference is at fault." You were just about to complain to him about him complaining that you'd not dare complain about it when he added on.

"again, I'm sorry for disregarding your help. Whether I needed it or not, I wanted to make the bracelet solely on my own so that it'd be more meaningful of a gift to give to you." This time he held your gaze, determined and truthful about what he said.

It seems you had judged him wrong, well not entirely. True he had a unique character, but that's just what made him, him. You held his hand, and the colors from earlier are returning to both of your faces. You held it there before pointing to his wrist, "It's only right I make you one as well, right? that way we'll be matching." You then intertwined your fingers. He was gonna combust.

EXTRA:

"I didn't think wanderer would be that into bracelet making" Kusanali peaked from the corner of the room. He was deeply concentrating on what he was doing and she did not want to disturb. "A little peek into that mind of his wouldn't hurt". After using her skill, a flurry of thoughts from wanderer flood her mind.

'Is this too much? or maybe too little? is [y/n] a minimalist or a maximalist?'

'This reminds me of you, this one too, and this one.'

'This charm is cute, like you. Wait no you're most definitely more cuter'

'this bracelet should be honored to be worn by you'

'maybe i'll make you a necklace next'

'I hope you'll like it'

[riddlerosehearts]

thinking about how people who watch the emperor's new groove and somehow come out of it shipping pacha and kuzco, or thinking yzma only became evil when kuzco fired her and that she would've been a better ruler than him, are both so wrong in so many different ways and are also missing one of the things that i absolutely love about the movie. which is that, the way i see it, pacha and yzma are counterparts. as parental figures to kuzco.

like, just to get this out of the way first, yzma was a dismissive asshole to a peasant whose family was starving. and yeah, if kuzco had been in her place he definitely would've also done that, which... is why she would not be a better ruler than him. she'd just be the same because they're both horrible people in the exact same ways. her reaction to being fired is to plot murder, and as soon as his funeral is over she sets everyone to work on replacing paintings of kuzco with paintings of herself and covering the palace with imagery that makes it clear that it's all about her now. i'm not even sure why this is a discussion tbh.

and also, kuzco is literally a teenager. he's barely 18 years old. source: in the movie, yzma says at his funeral that kuzco was "taken from us so tragically on the very eve of his eighteenth birthday." she also claims in the movie to have "practically raised" him, to which kronk replies "yeah, you'd think he would've turned out better". and sure, she could be exaggerating, but what evidence do we have that she is? we learn absolutely nothing of his parents, who are never mentioned even once in the movie, or of anyone else who could've raised him, and she's his advisor who for some reason sees no problem with attending to royal duties in his place. most likely because she's his regent. also, i'm not exactly a fan of the sequel tv series "the emperor's new school" but it does have something that backs up my point: kuzco is revealed to be an orphan and just before his father went and got lost at sea, he asked yzma (who was also his advisor) to take care of kuzco if anything happened to him. so, yeah, the writers who worked on the series clearly thought that yzma genuinely did raise kuzco, and nothing in the movie contradicts this.

and i find the idea of her being his only parental figure for pretty much his whole childhood incredibly interesting because, and this also goes back into why she wouldn't be a better ruler than him--she mirrors him as a reflection of what would've become of him if he'd never met pacha. they're both incredibly arrogant, power-hungry, selfish, and cruel, with a tendency to blame their problems on everyone but themselves. yzma was even originally going to have her own reprise of kuzco's theme song "perfect world", which i really wish had been kept:

[ID: Lyrics that read:

I'Il be the sovereign queen of the nation And the chicest chick in creation I'm the cat with all the cream and ooh-la-la This deadly concentration Will put an end to my frustration Now this perfect world begins and ends with moi

What's my name? Yzma, Yzma, Yzma Yzma (what's my name?) Yzma, Yzma (What'd you say?) Yzma (Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!) Yzma. End ID]

(this song can be fully heard in "the sweatbox", the documentary about the making of the movie, and is also on youtube btw)

anyway, i'm sure yzma would not exactly have been the most nurturing or hands-on guardian, especially given that she and kuzco don't exactly treat each other like family. but it makes a lot of sense to think that her behavior influened kuzco's throughout the years. and for the entire movie, she remains determined to kill him. when he tries to reason with her and admits that he should've been nicer, she says the same thing to him that he originally said when he fired her. she never grows or changes and in the end, she hurts the one person who was willing to stand by her (and even then, kronk had never fully been on board with her plan) and he ends up trying to crush her with a chandelier. kuzco on the other hand is able to realize the error of his ways, come to regret who he was in the past, and start taking steps toward being a better person. his theme song gets a reprise where it's changed from a song about one person being the center of the world to a Power Of Friendship song. why? because, as i've already mentioned, he has pacha.

pacha, who similarly to both yzma and kuzco is in a position of authority as the leader of the village but unlike either of them is gentle and humble. who isn't afraid to stand up to kuzco and be honest with him even though he's the emperor, who agrees to take him back to the palace but has no obligation to be so helpful, kind, and caring toward him--and just about every reason not to be--and still chooses to be anyway. pacha who is 45 years old (also stated in the sweatbox documentary) and can see that kuzco is practically still a kid, not a single day over 18, who has time to grow and change. pacha, who already has a wife and two kids with another on the way, but practically treats kuzco like one of his own. who acknowledges that if kuzco dies all his problems will be gone and then still worries about him and goes out of his way to rescue him after he wanders into the jungle. who sees kuzco shivering at night and covers him with his poncho, who carries him when he's genuinely too weak to keep walking, who refuses to give up on him even after repeatedly being betrayed by him because he believes there's good in everyone.

also, while yzma ends up repeating kuzco's harsh words of dismissal as she tells him of her plans to kill him, kuzco had previously repeated pacha's words that "nobody's that heartless" after he saved pacha's life. and as the movie progresses kuzco and pacha's relationship becomes more and more equal and is constantly contrasted by moments of yzma being cruel and unappreciative of kronk's kindness. a good example of this is how kronk is constantly being forced to carry yzma everywhere on his back while yzma literally walks all over him and steps on his hands when she gets down, whereas when pacha briefly carries kuzco after the latter collapses he tells him he'll have to walk the rest of the way later and kuzco doesn't even protest.

idk if i'm even explaining well what i'm trying to say here. but basically, if yzma actually raised kuzco and contributed to his current behavior, then she and pacha both are figures who guided him and helped him grow. only yzma helped him become the tyrant that he was at the start of the movie, who was selfish and callous and saw everyone else as beneath him. whereas pacha helped him see the value in being selfless and considerate of others. and in the end, yzma is stuck as a cat and nobody is concerned about her. kronk has found a new job that makes him genuinely happy, while kuzco has decided to build a hut on the hill next to pacha's and effectively joined his family. in the sweatbox documentary it's even mentioned that chicha and the kids were at risk of being removed from the film, but it was decided that they needed to be there because having just pacha as a single guy who lived alone wasn't interesting enough--kuzco needed to go from having basically an empty world where he had nobody to being able to come together with pacha's whole family. and i just think that's incredibly satisfying and beautiful. it also leads up to one of the few things i really do enjoy about the emperor's new school, which is the fact that during the show kuzco moves in with pacha and chicha and pretty explicitly thinks of them as basically his parents while he's like a son to them.

idk. i feel like my mind went in a million different directions while i was writing all this. but i guess i just think that for all of the praise the emperor's new groove gets for its comedy and for how hilarious yzma and kronk in particular are as a duo, the movie also has a lot of genuine heart that gets overlooked. kuzco's character growth and his unique dynamic with pacha is, for me, really what elevates the movie from just a funny movie that i like to one of my favorite disney movies. and i wish more people appreciated that aspect of it and saw it as a found family story in the same way that treasure planet, brother bear, and lilo and stitch are all found family stories.

[risuola]

HEADACHE — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN ft. Yuji Itadori

Your head has been killing you all day but you tried to play it off as nothing to not worry your boyfriend, but he noticed and didwhat he could to ease your suffering.

cw: fluff, Itadori is 18 and is a vessel for Sukuna, reader is in pain (duh), things like SA and su1cide are mentioned (nothing discriptive though), there is like, one slightly suggestive joke I guess? it's fluff, let me remind you! — 1,7k words

a/n: yet another fluffed out piece of writing for the king, because I love him struggling to keep his authority, alright? there are also so many fics where Sukuna is just purely violent that I feel like him being everything but violent is very much in demand and I love him more gentle 🖤 i also often get headaches like the one described so it was my inspo, kinda.

It hurt. Your head had been killing you since this morning and slowly it was getting to the point where you couldn't even move. It felt like a storm had been raging inside your skull for hours, you couldn't think, couldn't eat, couldn't concentrate on anything all day, and three painkillers didn't help at all. Your vision was blurry, your balance was off, everything seemed too loud, too close, too bright, too intense. You wanted to scream, you cried, and even begged whatever there is in the universe to just take this pain away.

"I can't," you whispered, crying quietly into your pillow as night fell. "I can't, I can't..." You tried not to wake Yuji, you even acted like it hurt less than it really did, just so he wouldn't worry, but now you couldn't hold it anymore. Your hands were shaking, your vision went black, and you wanted to die.

You got up, quietly and carefully, and slowly padded to the bathroom, feeling your way through the walls because your vision wasn't reliable anymore, and you put your head under the ice-cold water. Unpleasant shivers ran down your spine, your breath came short, but you stayed there, begging the university to ease the agony. And it did, for a moment. It all came back when you threw a towel over your head, unable to withstand the cold anymore. There was no point, you were dying, there was no other way.

Defeated, you dried your hair as best you could and went back to bed, where the moment you laid down, Yuji's arm found its place over your middle. He was still asleep, thankfully, and you pushed a pillow over your face and dived into the darkness.

"Is this suicide?", a voice that you only hoped was the creation of your mind reached your ears and you ignored it for the time being. Yuji was sleeping, he didn't move his hand from over your belly, he couldn't... "It's unwise to ignore me."

"Please, I can't do this now..." you whispered and took the pillows away. It was wet with tears, and so was your face when you looked at him. It was Sukuna, but it seemed like he had very little control over Itadori's body. Or maybe he intentionally kept you close to him so that you would die of a heart attack, but the sudden rush of blood that made your heart pump much faster than usual only made you feel worse.

"You can't do what?"

"Why are you here?" you asked, wiping your face.

"I love watching people suffer, and you seem to be just the kind of show I'd enjoy."

"Of course you do..."

"What is the source of your pain?"

"My head hurts. So fucking bad."

"Poor little human," he chuckled, lifting his head and resting it on his hand for a better view. In any other situation you would have pushed him away, tried to distance yourself, but now you had no power to fight back, so you stayed where you were, in the emotionless embrace of a curse that lives inside your boyfriend.

"If you stepped out to enjoy my pain, please go fuck yourself. Not the best timing, curse."

"How rude," he chuckled, "as if you were in a position to speak to me like that. I can slice you to ribbons before that brat even thinks of taking control back. Oh, imagine how devastated he would be to wake up to the bloody mess of his little girlfriend."

"Oh, sure. How creative, threatening me with death, very original. Perhaps you should surprise me and use your little hocus pocus to ease the pain I feel instead of scaring me."

"You want me, the King of Curses, to heal a human?"

"Kindness would be a good look on you."

"Oh, you're so desperate," he laughed and you covered your eyes with your forearm, already tired of his shit. The silence hurt you, not to mention his amused tone.

"Get lost, Sukuna," you muttered. "If you're not going to help, then stay quiet."

"And who are you to order me around?" his long fingers clawed at your chin, forcing your head in his direction, and you lowered your arm to look at him. Red eyes almost glowed in the darkness of the night, but he looked calm. "Hmm? Little human, have you forgotten where your place is?"

"I know where my place is, but you're in my bed now, so the only rules that apply here are mine."

"What a mouth," he chuckled again. "I can make this headache worse, you know."

"By annoying me to death? You're doing great at that."

It really wasn't wise to push Sukuna's buttons like that, your luck was definitely going to run out sooner or later, and even if you thought you wanted to die because of the headache, that wasn't really what you wished for.

"Sukuna, please, don't be a dick, help a human out."

"Oh, but watching you in pain is so much more entertaining."

"Have you ever tried to be nice, or is the concept foreign?"

"Being nice doesn't hold any power."

"Oh, but it does. When people truly respect you, not because they're scared, that's a different kind of power. And you like power, right?"

"I'm the strongest, I don't care what maggots think of me as long as they kneel in fear."

"If those people are maggots, doesn't that make you like a maggot king or something?"

"Oh, you're pushing your luck."

"Sure, whatever," you smack his hand away from your face and put the pillow back over it. If he's not going to be helpful, what was the point of paying attention to him? Just because he wants it doesn't mean he has to get it.

"And now you plan to ignore me?"

With no answer, you just pressed the plush item harder to your face, hoping that the pressure would soothe you even a little, but no luck.

Sukuna achieved his goal of making your heart beat even faster when he suddenly climbed on top of you, pinning you under his body and throwing the pillow away. Both of your hands he pressed to the bed with only one of his own, and you looked at him with a combination of surprise, confusion, and a glimmer of fear. This was not an ideal situation in any universe.

"What now?"

"Oh, don't be so scared, you wanted me to help you, right?"

"I fail to notice where the helping part is..."

"You humans fail to notice a lot of things."

Ryomen continued to touch you, but his touch felt anything but intimate. It burned, it felt targeted when his palm brushed against your knees or your inner thigh. Wherever he pressed, you felt some pain.

"What on earth are you doin-"

"I advise you to shut up before I change my mind."

And so you did, still unsure of what was happening. Why was this man touching your skin when you could have sworn, he wasn't interested in any kind of human physical touch. He was toying with you, enjoying the way your heart was racing in your chest, how you struggled to free your hands from his relentless grasp, and how you tried so hard to stay calm when he knew your mind was racing 180 miles per hour and off the cliff.

"Such a simple human," he mocked, his fingers brushing way too close to your underwear to go unnoticed, and your hips bucked up to create just a little more distance. This had to be another kind of torture and he was having fun making you so pliable. His eyes never left your face and you struggled to maintain eye contact. "What if I opened a mouth on the palm of my hand right now?" he teased, and you didn't get the subtext at first, but once you did, the vision struck you in a way it shouldn't have.

"Christ, you're more perverted than I suspected a curse would be," you muttered, turning your head to the side, creating an opening for him to kiss the tear off your cheek.

"You don't know much about curses, sweetheart," he laughed directly into your ear, brushing it with his lips as he moved his hand higher, sliding it under your blouse to your hip. "There are some mindless curses out there that only focus on sexually abusing their victims." This wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening. But his tone didn’t change, he was amused more than anything. "But I'm not a simple, horny curse, don't be so afraid. I'm the king."

"For a king, you do kinda often need to remind people about it..." you muttered, breathing in and out, focusing on this simple thing to avoid turning into a mess.

"Remember my advice?"

"Yup."

You closed your mouth and a wave of pulsating pain washed over your whole body again, radiating from your head as if a bomb had just exploded here. You closed your eyes tightly, tears once again threatening to flow from under your squeezed eyelashes. It hurt so much that you couldn't think straight, everything was blurry and you had trouble even recognizing the man above you. You wanted to pull your hands out of his hold, to put them on your temples, to do anything to ease the throbbing ache, but he wouldn't let you.

His hand pressed against your forehead. A moment later, the grip on your wrists loosened and the man rolled off you, taking a place beside you and pulling you into his chest. When you opened your eyes, no sign of black marks met your sight.

"Did he help you?" Yuji asked, his voice soft and cooing, but with worry clearly intertwined with his words. "Does it still hurt?"

"Huh?"

"Your head, does it hurt?"

"No... You asked him for it?"

"Yeah... I noticed you were in pain today, but you tried to play it off as nothing. And you didn't sleep and cried and I saw how many pills you took and still hurt," he spoke so softly, kissing your head tenderly and caressing your back with care and affection. "I'm sorry, I guess he had to scare you a little because, you know... ego."

"Thank you, baby," you pressed your lips to his chest, nuzzling into him even more.

"Oh, don't be, you know I'd do anything for you."

Next day you noticed that every bruise you had on your body wasn’t there anymore. Every hurt you earned through your every day clumsiness and trainings disappeared.

So that’s why Sukuna was touching you.

[inconveniently-discorporated]

My heart hurts so bad for Aziraphale because I can honestly just relate to him so, so, so much.

(not putting this one under a cut so warning season 2 ahead, I'll tag it at the bottom too)

Aziraphale says, "Nothing lasts forever," but I don't believe for a second he doesn't wish that it did.

He WANTS things to go back to how they used to be. He WANTS the seraphic Crowley squealing with joy as he cranks up the universal machine and sets the stars aflame. He WANTS there to be no sides, he WANTS to believe in the idea of the host united, he WANTS to go back before Crowley got himself in trouble by asking questions. He wants, I think, to be in that moment of creation and adoration forever.

Change seems to frighten him. There's an aspect of uncertainty. There's an element of chaos, the loss of control. I understand this deeply. And what the Metatron offered him was just that: certainty, control, the ability to dictate his own narrative.

I used to be in a toxic job. On top of it, I had intense anxiety and other undiagnosed neurodivergencies that made it even harder to fit in and understand the untold rules I was supposed to follow to get along. When I first got there, it wasn't so bad -- perhaps I was, like Aziraphale, also a bit idealistic. Then there were some changes that brought instability, significant more anxiety, and a lot of nights spent agonizing over my lack of control over it all.

My friends and significant other tried to convince me to leave, but I didn't want to. I didn't know what else was out there. I didn't know if it would be worse. I didn't know what kind of stability it would have.

Then my manager left, so that spot opened up. I had worked there for a long time, and honestly, I never saw myself going into management. I didn't think I could. I wasn't sure I even wanted to. All of that extra stress, on me? Not to mention, getting FURTHER into the job that was taking a massive toll on me? But then...

Then I would have control. Then I could run things the way *I* had always thought they should run. I wouldn't need to worry about who would replace my manager and whether my life would be a living hell -- I would make it what I wanted it to be. Upper management was really pushing for it, so I applied.

To make a long story short: I don't think it went very well. I didn't have the support I needed. I didn't have the emotional skills I needed. I think I did my best, but I'm not fond of those times. At the time, I was SURE that I wanted to move up even more, I was SURE this would make it all better. I thought this was what I REALLY wanted.

But that's not what I needed. What I needed was to get out, and eventually I did. Even as ready as I was to leave, it was absolutely agonizing. I could barely stand to handle the unknown. I was going to work together with my spouse, actually, and I was so excited for that, but I still... I still was upset and worried sick over the dramatic change that would befall my life, after I had made the decision to leave.

That's where I can relate to Aziraphale. I wonder what would've happened if, before I had actually left for good, the head honchos had come up to me and said, "We want to keep you -- how about we offer you (an even higher position)?" -- would I have said no, or would I have wanted to make a difference?

Funny, I said exactly that, too. That's almost why I didn't change jobs in the first place. I said, "But I feel like I'm really making a difference with what I'm doing now." But what pushed me over the edge was realizing that none of that mattered to them, it was all about THEIR control of ME, not the other way around.

I'm so intensely curious to see what happens with Aziraphale next, but I'm sure he will learn what Crowley understands: nothing lasts forever, and sometimes it's good that it doesn't -- even if sometimes we wish it did.

[idontcaboose]

Haunted car Au part 14

So, it has been a week, and it feels like when you wake up from an unplanned 30 minute nap and have to ask 'What year is it?' While feeling like you have been run over by a whole procession of clowns, clown cars, and maybe a camel for good measure. Granted, that may be from the ragweed that is pollinating like crazy, but oh well... new part!

THIS IS YOUR WARNING! SWEAR WORDS! Plenty of cursing ahead! You have been warned!

Previous. Masterpost

It had been over 24 hours since Jason saw Danny. The most troubling thing was, there were no whispers of a trafficking group in that area. He couldn't fathom what had happened to the kid. Barbara couldn't find the kid on her cameras either, so he might need to go to the cave and look at the Batmobile himself. The footage Babs pulled were just as corrupted as the ally cameras were. Maybe the kid built himself a little jamming device, wouldn't be his first strangely useful creation. Whether or not he had a jamming device, he was still missing and none of the other street kids had seen him. He knew they were probably not harboring him with the bounty for finding Danny being as lucrative as it was. Jason knew offering to cook 3 meals a day for a week would get all of his street kids looking, some adults too.

Jason was a little surprised to see Duke looking at the Batmobile's underside when he drove in. Normally only Bruce and Jason worked on the cars since they had the most hands-on experience with them. Case in point, Duke had the car up on the lift with the front doors open. Did he have to sit Duke down and go through safety in maintenance 101? Maybe he could borrow little Timmy's version “The importance of Maintenance Safety: Or why you don't let Megan write safety plans.” It would hit all the important bits and sear the information in with neon yellow and blue comic sans font.

“So, Glowstick, mind telling me why the fuck you are trying to get yourself crushed?” Jason growled at the kid, the helmet making it even more menacing.

Duke gave Jason an unimpressed look. “B got a stick up his ass and thinks I somehow was involved with the Batmobile running weirdly." Duke sneered as he continued. "Last night when Red Robin activated his emergency beacon, the lead goon got in it and ran over some of his goons. The fail safes for theft didn't activate. Somehow, it was my fault. Perks to being the closest non-injured, I guess.”

Jason was surprised at the bitterness the usually sunshine-y kid had.

“Well, good news, we can swap for a bit, and I can teach you properly how to maintain this beast.” Jason offered.

“Why are you so interested?”

“I can't be nice?”

“You are here willingly, and no, you usually are not ‘nice’. So what is it?”

Jason was not expecting such hostility from Duke, but if Bruce had his panties in a twist and took it out on Duke, he could forgive some of the bite. Couldn't hurt to get Duke in on his hunt for Danny anyway.

“I… need help. One of my guys mentioned they bet a kid, named Danny, some money to put a sticker on the Batmobile. No one has seen the kid after entering the alley where the car was parked. Oracle said the cameras were corrupted at the time the kid was there with it. Figured I would check the car for clues.”

“Oh…. Sure.”

They both looked at the undercarriage of the car in silence before Jason gave a snort.

“The kid really did put a sticker on the oil pan. That is hilarious.”

Sure enough there was a Green Arrow sticker, one where he had his arms crossed and looking smug as all hell, positioned in such a way that eluded that when the oil was drained it would look like Green Arrow was pissing.

“That is amazing, if you find the kid let me give them a high-five for that. What does he look like anyway?”

“Adoption bait, pretty much a mini me with a more ‘polite’ mouth.” Jason was sure Duke could hear his smile when talking about the kid.

“No shit? You with manners? I don't think I can imagine that from a Alley Rat.” Duke teased.

“Watch it Narrows, us Alley Rats are all a little rabid.” Jason found himself teasing back before sniffing. “Besides, Alfie would have my head if I didn't have some manners.”

They went back into a more comfortable silence while working, Jason took to looking through the center, hoping to find some sort of clue of a struggle if Danny got nabbed. Duke was focusing on the engine compartment and any wirings that he could follow. It was rather relaxing until Duke went to move some rubber piping to get a closer look at a relay.

Neither person expected the car to shudder and produce a kind of creepy giggle. Duke froze and Jason reacted by tackling him away from the car and pulling one of his guns at the Batmobile.

“What in the ever loving fuck?” Jason screamed, the Batmobile responded with its own car alarm going off.

“Don't shoot! I'm sorry, I didn't expect that to happen, we are still trying to figure things out!” Duke had jumped back up and put himself in front of Jason, waving his hands and trying to keep attention on him.

“We? What the fuck Narrows?!”

“Just, both of you, stop! Hood, gun down, Car dude, stop the alarm. Please.” Duke all but whined the last word in desperation.

Jason took a Very deep breath, and growled out in the now silent cave.

“Car. Dude?”

Next

@kizzer55555 @sebas-nights @candeartist422 @trappednyourheart @fandom-life-corrupted-me @tkiesai @2lbballpeenhammer @admiralwidow @rewrittenwrongs @whotfevenknowsanymore @symmetricalastigmatism @thespacedragons @atinygracie @okami-love @lesbian-spider-drone @1n0sss @forgetmenot-bluepurple

[emeritusemeritus]

Hi!

Can I request a oneshot,where the weasley twins got to a arguement with you, because they were a little extra flirty and their pranks going to far to the point it upset people,then it cause you to ignore them for 5 days straight. Making sure that you didn't bump into them in the hallways,didn't sit with them at (breakfast,lunch,and dinner),if you guys have classes together (since your in the same year) you either group up with someone else,or just simply not looking at them at all. Acting like,you didn't have two boyfriends who were always staring at you, thinking of a plan to get you to atleast look their way.

Then it all just ends with smut,the rest of the story can be anything you want.

THANKIES,LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH!💝😸😍😘

Hi lovely Anon! I hope you are well. Thank you very much for your kind words and for this request, I hope you enjoy! I’m sorry there’s not much smut at the end, I’ve been writing it pretty much for two days straight so it’s more an a non-graphic, implied kind of smut! 🖤

Warnings: a bit of angst, a bit of smut. Non graphic smut, implied sexual references. The twins being unapologetically themselves. Pranks, injury, minor genital injury, no blood.

Word count: 2.9k

Actions and Consequences

It had been five days since you'd last spoken to your boyfriends after that night in the common room. You were done with their stupid antics. For too long now you'd come second place to their inventions; you could deal with the long hours spent working on their creations, the aftermath of them testing their products on themselves and the amount of time spent grifting for sales but what you absolutely wouldn't deal with was them completely ignoring you for the sake of their 'customers'. Not to mention their completely lack of morality or remorse for anyone even as people suffer and endure the consequences of their stupid pranks. Or their complete blindness to real life consequences which had really bitten them in the arse lately... not that it seemed to make a blind bit of difference.

It may have all been funny once, but this time they'd gone too far.

You'd spent your time in the library, walking the grounds, helping out Hagrid and hanging out with your other friends, finding that without the twins' constant disruptions you were so much more productive. You actually had free time again, had gotten ahead of your school work and were completely up to date with your homework. Besides the crippling heartache, you were doing okay. Or maybe you weren't, but you wouldn't allow yourself to give them the satisfaction of knowing how deeply you were pining for them, or give them even a slight clue that they occupied your mind almost 24/7.

You'd ignored every one of their attempts to communicate, wanting them to feel exactly as you had when your wants and needs had been ignored. You knew it was petty but you just couldn't be around them right now, too hurt to carry on as you were. Fred had tried first, tried to bulldoze his way through your emotional boundaries under the guise of yet another joke or prank, another chance to break the rules. He'd learnt very quickly that this method did not and would not work, throwing him off completely. George had been slightly more sensitive in his approach but had still missed the mark entirely. Neither of them had apologised, not to you and not to Neville who had been caught in the crossfire of their invention testing. They'd even sent Hermiome over to try and 'talk some sense into you' but you'd quickly shut down her feeble attempt at being an unwitting participant and had instead diverted the conversation to S.P.E.W, which had earned you an hour long lecture on Elf rights, but at least the topic of the twins was quickly forgotten.

Any further attempt to reach out to you fell on deaf ears and was met with a neutral yet disappointed expression and absolutely no enthusiasm. You'd taken to eating with Katie and your other friends, trying not to spend any time in a place where the twins would be able to find you.

Their gazes upon you were constant, their eyes almost more persistent than their words. You could feel the heat from their stares on you morning and night, in the great hall, in classes, the common room. Sometimes you just felt like you were being watched constantly, though of course you weren't.

But you couldn't deny that your days had become infinitely more boring since you had been ignoring your boyfriends and trying to teach them some consequences. Boring but peaceful, you kept reminding yourself as you felt your stubbornness starting to slip. You missed them badly by the fifth day but reasoned that they had a lesson to learn even if it made you suffer in the process. You'd walked into your dorm after classes to find some fizzing whizbees placed on your bed that you knew would be from the twins. It made your heart pang for a moment as you looked upon the gift, knowing that they were your absolute favourite chocolate and that the twins didn't have any money so they must have begged borrowed and stolen for this. But then you remembered why they didn't have any money, bloody Ludo Bagman. With regret and a growling protesting stomach, you'd given Ginny the Whizbees, telling them to give them back to her brothers, though you knew that it was a step too far for your broken heart.

"What's it going to take?" Ginny asks, looking up at you from her bed as you hand her the delicious treats.

"An apology," you reply.

-♡-

"I have an announcement. Oi gits, put down your knitting and listen here!" Fred suddenly shouts from the centre of the common room, immediately grabbing everyone's attention. It's Friday night and everyone had been sat around the common room after dinner, branching off into different activities. You hadn't seen the twins since dinner and figured they were off somewhere causing mayhem, thinking no more of it. Dean reaches out and turns down the radio as the buzz of talking and laughter fades quickly, everyone falling silent as they look towards Fred. You heave out a sigh, really not wanting to give him anymore attention and so you didn't look up to him, choosing instead to keep your eyes on your book.

"I Fred Gideon Weasley, would like to formally apologise for my behaviour and careless actions the other night, well since birth actually," he says as he stands on top of one of the high tables near the stairs, as if he even needed the extra height to tower over everyone. Truthfully, you'd stopped reading the minute he's started talking, only feigning interest in the pages so that you wouldn't have to look at the stupidly handsome man. You could see the faint outline of him in your peripheral vision and it was enough.

"And I George Fabian Weasley would like to mirror that apology," you hear George say, pulling your attention even further, but you still don't look up. "And extend my greatest apologies to Neville Longbottom who unwillingly consumed one of our canary creams last week, turning him into a great big yellow bird. We're sorry we didn't warn you."

"Or know that you were terrified of birds," Fred adds, but you can almost hear the smirk that he's wearing.

"But to our girl," Fred adds, your heart pounding. "We want to apologise to our beautiful girl y/n y/n."

"Our long suffering girlfriend," George adds.

You look up now, completely forgetting the book in your lap as your eyes meet George's and then Fred's. They don't look remorseful per se, but you knew when they were being genuine. Your heart constricts, feeling suddenly awkward that they are doing this in public.

"We're sorry Angel, never meant to upset you or ignore you and this is our public apology to you."

"Of course we'll apologise later in private," Fred says with a smirk, earning a feel whoops and cheers from the crowd at the suggestion and you feel your cheeks heat up at the insinuation. He chuckles finding your wide eyes and flushed face in the crowd before continuing. "We never meant to embarrass anyone, even old Neville, no offence Neville." You watch as Neville raises his hand slightly in response to Fred, having been called out personally.

"So, in an attempt to show you that we are clearly reformed men who want nothing more than their future wife to forgive them, we're giving our sweet girl the chance to embarrass us, right here, in front of everyone."

You frown, thoroughly confused by their words.

"Ronald, be a dear," Fred calls out to his younger brother sat closest to you, gesturing for him to bring you up to them. He flushes bright pink, the smile slipping from his face at the audience participation section and you make it easy on him, placing your hand on his shoulder as you walk past towards the twins, your book long forgotten.

"A round of applause for our beautiful girl!" Fred says with a menacing grin, waving his arms frantically as the common room erupts with a loud roar of applause, making you want to run and hide.

"Now princess, you can do."

"Anything at all," George adds.

"To embarrass us," they say together.

"As justice for our professional negligence."

You don't have time to think of your options nor react as a deafening crack echoes around the common room as it falls silent, each person waiting in anticipation for what was going to happen. The twins shoot each other identical looks of shock and horror as the loud creak turns into a brief snapping noise, followed instantly by them tumbling to the ground with an almighty thud as the table beneath them splinters and collapses under their feet. You rush forward towards them, careful to avoid the masses of falling books, ornaments and the many many pieces of wood that had splintered around.

George appears first, completely unharmed and unfazed with a wicked smile on his face. The common room erupts in laughter and cheers but dies down slightly when you reach Fred who is doubled over, clutching his groin.

Apparently he'd landed awkwardly and had somehow managed to injure himself in the process, catching the 'family jewels' on the way down.

He stands slowly with your help, keeping a firm hold of your hand as he raises one arm, still slightly hunched over, forcing a smile onto his face as the common room cheers again. People begin to disperse after that, the show over and not wanting to be part of the cleanup. You wave your wand and begin to tidy the mess, hermione and Ginny helping levitate larger pieces and ornaments off to one side for now as Harry lifts the shell of the bookcase and flings it into the corner.

"Don't think you'll be apologising in the way you wanted Weasley," Seamus says as he walks past, a cheeky grin on his face as he wiggles his eyes at Fred.

"Shove off Finnegan," Fred shoots back, though his voice is still strained. "Git."

"Well I still can," George smirks, throwing his arm around your shoulder and giving you a smile, winking in your direction.

"Come to our dorm?" He asks into your ear, earning a little nod from you in conformation.

"Think you can make it big boy?" You ask Fred, seeing his face still scrunched up. He looks up towards you and squints in a mock glare, not caring for your apparent lack of sympathy.

"We are sorry Angel, we went too far," George says as he pulls you into his arms. You don't resist, more than happy by their attempts of apology. "We didn't really think about it and we'll try better next time. We promise that we'll never ignore you or put you second again, you're everything to us."

"I think it's been ripped off," Fred murmurs from behind you, still clutching his groin as he walks slowly into the dorm, closing the door with a flick of his wand.

Ignoring his twin completely, George smiles down at you, hand reaching up for your chin to keep your attention on him.

"Can we still call you our girl?"

You smile back up at him and nod, feeling better in his arms than you had all week.

"Don't go missing on us again," he says, "you're ours remember." He leans down to kiss you, hands simultaneously wandering and holding you tightly to his body.

"I'm never going to get hard again. It's done for, I'm ruined for life."

You realised almost as soon as their next big idea struck that long term consequences were just not a consideration for George and Fred, though this time you were neither angry nor upset. You'd realised somewhere along the way that the last thing the twins needed was someone else picking them apart, playing on their faults and trying to teach them a lesson of conformity. What they really needed was understanding and support of their future business and an occasional redirection for their more wild attempts. Though of course the main lesson had been learnt and then did now consider how their pranks and stunts would affect someone else, which was a big step (Ron didn't count in that agreement apparently).

So when the twins were mercilessly flung back from the Triwizard cup, landing on the stone floor with a great thud and immediately began spouting big white bushy beards, hair and eyebrows, you laughed along with everyone else. You were doubled over with laughter as they rolled on the floor squabbling about the consequences of the ageing potion and whose fault it was, knowing yourself that they were equally as guilty. They laughed along with the crowd who were in hysterics and when Fred caught your eye, seeing you with tears of laughter streaming down your face, he only laughed harder.

"Well, What do you think?" Fred smirks, running his hand through his white beard that could rival Dumbledore. Your vision was blurry with your tears of laughter, only made worse when he gets close to you, the ridiculousness of his appearance even more absurd up-close.

"I think you're an idiot," you say with a smile, holding back a wheeze.

"Come on baby, you're telling me this does nothing for you?" He says, trying to reach out for you and wiggling his ridiculous eyebrows at you suggestively.

"Not unless you're holding a sack and giving out presents... don't!"

He bursts with fresh laughter at your words, followed by another boom of laughter when George comes up behind you and attempts to kiss your cheek, the white bushy beard feeling awful against your cheek. You squirm out of their holds, completely disgusted at the thought of kissing them whilst they looked like that.

"I'm hurt, injured, I'll never recover, my girl swerving from my kisses!" George says dramatically, raising his hand to his forehead as if he's ready to faint from the hurt. You simply roll your eyes with a smirk on your face.

"Turn back ginger and you can have all the kisses you want," you say towards George who is still trying to cuddle up behind you despite your mocking attempts to bat him away. He chuckles in your ear and suddenly reaches out to press a wet, sloppy kiss to your cheek before running away with a boyish laugh. You grimace playfully, wiping the spit away from your cheek as you attempt to recover from the feel of his beard ghosting your skin.

"But it's like a view into the future," Fred adds, gesturing as his white hair.

"Then I want to break up."

"Can I at least keep the beard?"

"Madame Pomfrey now... then come find me later," you say suggestively, reaching and stroking his tie, making his eyes widen in excitement.

Immediately he runs off towards his twin, finding it easier than ever to spot him amongst the crowd as you try and locate someone else amongst the crowd.

"Boys!" You shout, earning their attention straight away as they pause, turning to you with curious looks on their faces just as they are about to exit the hall.

There's a blinding flash and they squint at the sudden brightness as you thank the boy beside you, gratefully accepting the Polaroid that Colin had snapped for you. Your laugh echoes around the hall as the moving picture develops, seeing their surprised faces, wide eyes and wild beards captured eternally on the film.

"One for the wedding album," you smirk, shooting them a wink as you place the photo in the pocket of your robes, still laughing as you walk away.

-♡-

"You know, I really like your hair long like this," you say to George later on that night in the privacy of their dormitory. Lee had been unceremoniously shipped off the second the twins had arrived back from the hospital wing looking 100 years younger and back to their gorgeous ginger selves.

"Why's that baby?" George mumbles as he kisses the skin of your thighs, adding to the fire that threatened to consume you. You smirked, reaching out for his soft shaggy hair, running your fingers through the long beautiful strands of fire red hair before giving a gentle tug as you move him closer to your weeping core.

"Better for steering," you smirk, biting your lip as you give him your most seductive smile. You're instantly rewarded with a chuckle from the very naked twin behind you and secondly with a deliciously arousing swipe of George's tongue through your folds, the tip of his tongue deliberately catches your aching clit making you gasp out his name and throw your head back onto Fred's shoulder behind you.

"So you don't like older men then princess?" Fred teases as his hands reach out to cup your heaving breasts, his thumbs gliding over your hardened nipples at the very same time that George's lips suck on your clit perfectly.

"Just you two," you manage to gasp out as your hips rise for George, keeping your fingers firmly embedded within his hair, thinking of how incredibly lucky you were to be in this opposition, dealing with the consequences of your actions.

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

Oct 23rd

~*~

1. itmf fics where lwj (or even one of the other characters like nhs or the juniors) gets mad about what lxc said to wwx about being lwj’s only mistake?

Thank you for your help!

break by justdoityoufucker (orphan_account) (T, 3k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, LXC Critical, JC Critical, Canonical Character Death, Guānyīn Temple Scene, BAMF WN, Protective WN)

🔒💖 When has silence saved anyone? by Vrishchika (T, 6k, wangxian, LSZ & WWX & LWJ, post-canon, LXC  critical, family feels, angry LWJ & LSZ, LXC gets scolded)

~*~

2. hello! itmf request for fics where lwj punches people. like we know he's good with the sword but his lan arm strength should also be used for breaking jaws with his fists. no jc bashing tho. i mean lwj can beat him up, but id rather the author not, yknow? thank you very much in advance and blessings come your way!

~*~

3. Do you know of any fics where wwx's ghost sticks around to help raise lsz? @dawnforger-fr

🧡 Lan Sizhui Sees Dead People Series by darkbrokenreaper (T, 30k, WIP, WangXian, LWJ & LSZ, JC & LSZ, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Kid Fic, Hurt/Comfort, lsz sees dead people, Paranormal)

🧡 Ghosts Shouldn’t by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 15k, WangXian, Grief/Mourning, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)

From the beyond Series by apathyinreverie (T, 11k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Some angst, Ghost WWX, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WWX, Domestic WangXian, rogue cultivators wangxian, of sorts, Ghostly Sunshine Husbands: A Guide on Accidental Sect Creation by Hanguang-Jun, Cultivation World Critical, Fix-It, Oblivious WWX, Smitten LWJ, Time Skips)

A-Yuan’s first Inquiry by SaiaiSaiko (G, 1k, LSZ & LWJ, LSZ & WWX, LWJ Plays Inquiry, LSZ Plays Inquiry, Canonical Character Death, Spirits)

~*~

4. (First part moved to FF) where wwx goes to the future (modern) if you have any fanfics like that, I would appreciate it @quwieiidkd

🔒Confusion by Vrishchika (Not rated, 4k, wangxian, time travel)

🧡 The Shade of Old Trees by Kryal (T, 363k, WangXian, Ridiculously Long Notes, History, Canon Divergence, Modern AU, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Slow Life, Action/Adventure, Magic Returns, BAMF WWX) which isn't tagged as time travel but has a canon-era Wei Wuxian frozen in a block of ice and, after being discovered in current times and thawed, he has to adjust to the future. / One of my all time top favourites

🔒I Got Isekai'd into a High School Romance But I Used to Be the Founder of Demonic Cultivation! by LizzyPanic (T, 20k, WangXian, Minor XuanLi, Canon Divergence, Modern AU, Reverse Isekai and Transmigration, High School, wwx is a cultivator, no one else is, Pining, Flirting, attempts at humor, gender nonconforming nhs, First Kiss, Good Uncle LQR, Light Angst)

~*~

5. Yilingwei type fics, some have protective commoners. I really wanna say murder of crows by cerbykerby or cradle by dragonesque had that element. I know I've read ones where the locals find the visiting cultivators sus and the cold welcome unnerves the visitors (cause they expected the locals to hate the "great evil") or where locals scam the voting cultivators by over charging for items they wouldn't be familiar with cause snooty & don't shop for themselves

~*~

6. In the mood for:

a) Canon characteristics compliant fics.

b) Fics where Lan Xichen is shady, mean, condescending, or doesn't like Wei Wuxian (Preferably with LWJ standing by his man)

c) modern Fics where WWX is disowned or kicked out of the Jiang but goes on to do well. (Preferably, confident!WWX)

Please 🥺 and thank you 😊 @myblurryreality

For 6B, I didn't mention it but it can be in canon or an AU.

6A)

It's Only Time by etymologyplayground (T, 8k, WangXian, Epistolary, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, It's About The Yearning., Getting Together, Love Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Humor)

and he sang about the stars by hauntme_then (M, 29k, WangXian, Brotherhood, Growing Up Together, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Canonical Character Death)

Gathered Herbs & Sweet Grasses by hansbekhart (Not Rated, 19k, LSZ & LWJ, WangXian, dad wangji, LWJ’s Questionable Parenting Skills, Grief/Mourning, Recovery, Injury Recovery, Hopeful Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Gathered Herbs & Sweet Grasses [podfic] by someplacelikebolivia)

Florescendo by flowercity (FaoriE) (T, 9k, WangXian, Sentient Burial Mounds, Canon Compliant, POV Second Person, POV Third Person, Introspection, there are wangxian scenes but theyre not the focus, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, poetic prose, the mortifying ordeal of having hope, Character StudyParallels)

6C)

crimson blue by cherrywhiskey (E, 138k, WangXian, Modern, Arranged Marriage, Angst with a Happy Ending, Marriage of Convenience, genius WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Supportive LQR, Bottom LWJ, Eventual mpreg, Protective WWX, protective LWJ, Soap Opera, with plenty of telenovela tropes, like scheming in-laws, sizzling drama, Romance, AND SO MUCH LOVE & DEVOTION, Power Couple Wangxian, they're smitten with each other, WWX × LQR bonding, soft LWJ, but he also has a temper, WWX's debt & duty factor is heavily focused, baby is not having a good time im sorry, let me show you what Wei Wuxian's love looks like, comes with gorgeous arts) he doesn't get kicked out, more like leaves

Crazy, Rich Cultivators by ShanaStoryteller (Not rated, 13k, wangxian, Modern Cultivation, Idiots in Love, Misunderstandings, POV LWJ, īthis started as a crazy rich asians au but quickly got away from me, light moments of angst but mostly shenanigans)

🔒 Step by step by apathyinreverie (T, 12k, WangXian, Modern AU, JFM and YZY Bashing, not particularly Jiang family friendly, Guilt, Fluff, past angst, Flashbacks, Protective LWJ, Soft WWX, adorable a-yuan, Friendship, Family, Getting Together, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff)

Catharsis by Starfell123 (T, 9k, WangXian, Modern Cultivation, mentions of abuse, Mentions of Disownment, Swearing, Friendship, Attempted Arranged Marriage, WWX has gone through therapy, Catharsis, supportive friends, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Genius WWX, Rich WWX, Bad Parent YZY, Bad Parent JFM, BAMF WWX)

you'll always know me (ana_cp) by anaphoricae (E, 127k, WangXian, Modern, Actor WWX, Teacher LWJ, Getting Back Together, Exes to Lovers, is it exes to lovers if you never quite defined your relationship?, for WangXian it is, Angst with a Happy Ending, LWJ being cute with children alert, WWX rides a motorcycle, LWJ writes as a hobby, ALL THE GOOD THINGS, Back hugs as a love language, Sharing Food as a Love Language, Really anything between them is a love language if you squint hard enough)

~*~

7. Hello! Could someone recommend some fics where wwx is believed dead at the burning of lotus pier/the burial mounds/the beginning of the war and everyone mourns him??? Thank you in advance, have a nice day <333

The Scarlet Lotus by rainbowninja167 (M, 137k, WangXian, Marriage of Convenience, Secret Identity, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical war crimes, Yunmeng Bros, the mortifying ordeal of getting seduced by your own husband, nonlinear chronology we die like cql, just kidding nobody dies in this fic, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication) doesnt die, but everyone believes he's gone crazy

Lay my body down by tawaen (M, 48k, WWX & WQ, WWX & WN, wangxian, WWX & JYL, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Eventual WangXian, No Golden Core Transfer, Not Cultivation World Friendly, Canon-Typical Violence, Not JC Friendly, What if WWX saw the first siege of the burial mounds and said Nope to the war, OCs, OC point-of-view for one chapter for plot reasons)

Go Hiking With a Blindfold On by Hauntcats (Not Rated, 12k, WangXian, WWX & JC, WWX & WQ, Not JC Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, No Golden Core Transfer, Canon JC Characteristics)

when you’re doing all the leaving (then it’s never your love lost) by tardigradeschool (T, 26k, wangxian, canon divergence, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, sharing clothes, sharing a bed, fix-it, golden core transfer)

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts)

only the dead (have seen the end of war) by comforting_monachopsis (T, 42k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, temporary amnesia, BAMF WWX, sad LWJ, grief/mourning, loneliness, mild gore, secret identity, loss of identity, identity porn, angst, humor, crossdressing)

~*~

8. Hello 🥰!

Itmf:

A) Artist Lan Wangji and muse Wei Wuxian. Whether it's painting, photography, sculpture, I'm happy!

B) Wangxian (one or both) being acrobats like in Cirque Du Soleil. I'm talking aerial silks, those things in the air where performers throw other performers to each other, contortionists, etc.

C) One or both of Wangxian as dancers. It can be any kind of dancing (if it's sexual, I'd prefer it if there wasn't a lot of actual sex). Ballroom dancing, ballet dancing, swing dancing, whatever! (I've already read Unstrictly Ballroom by Ariaste).

Thank you!! @acebookdragon47

8A)

when you say nothing at all by sysrae (T, 4k, WangXian, Modern AU, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, artist LWJ, tattoo artist WWX, past angst, Getting Together, emotionally significant art installations, Soulmates)

🔒a reunion is made of words by spookykingdomstarlight (T, 2k, WangXian, Modern AU, Artist LWJ, Estranged Friends to Lovers, Reunions, Chance Meetings, Second Chances)

Muse by LadyVamp (E, 9k, WangXian, WangXianXi, Modern AU, Romance, Tragic Romance, Artist and Muse, Painting, Sex, Explicit Sexual Content)

8B)

fear you won't fall by anaphoricae (E, 87k, WangXian, Modern, Circus, Fire Dancer WWX, Trapeze Artist LWJ, Slow Burn, Rom com vibes, No Angst, Just an overall good time I hope, Come as Lube, Rimming, WWX and LWJ's 'mutual dislike' to 'let's get married tomorrow' pipeline, some scenes of WWX and LWJ being really cute with children. Beware!, Bottom LWJ) circus au with trapeze artist lwj & fire dancer wwx

8C)

Falling to the Rhythm by Selenay (E, 128k, WangXian, Modern: No Powers, Dance, Strictly Come Dancing Fusion, Ballroom Dancing, Dancer!WWX, Violinist LWJ, Pining While Dancing, Oblivious WWX, Gratuitous Costume Descriptions, Gratuitous dancing descriptions, Slow Burn, [Podfic] Falling to the Rhythm by semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona)) Both fics are explicit but I don't believe there're too many explicit scenes in either story.

varied my velocities by fantasiavii (E, 58k, WangXian, Modern AU, Ballerina LWJ, Football/Soccer player WWX, Enemies to Lovers, Top WWX/Bottom LWJ, Dom WWX, Angst with a happy ending, Internalized homophobia) Both fics are explicit but I don't believe there're too many explicit scenes in either story.

Pas de Deux by TriviasFolly (M, 62k, WangXian, Modern AU, ballet dancer lwj, Hip Hop Dancer WWX, dance teacher au, reference to career ending injuries, referenced injuries, Addiction, Drug Addiction, we attempt some pining)

Ugly Duckling by Witch_Nova221 (T, 57k, WangXian, NieLan, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Ballet Dancer WWX, Ballet Dancer LWJ, Theatre, Dance School)

🔒space, skin, muscle, bone by tombenough_and_continent (T, 23k, WangXian, Modern AU, Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake, Non-Linear Narrative, Dance, Background SongXiao, background NieLan, a surprising amount of texting, gratuitous use of ballet terminology)

~*~

9. ITMF where WWX's title is not yiling patriach. Like ghost flute or red lotus or something. It could be that his title was yiling patriach and he or someone change the title to something else. Thanks!

Hand in Hand Together (All Your Life) by sami (T, 41k, JC/WZL, WangXian, Asexual JC, Queerplatonic relationship, Implied future NMJ/JYL, Not Everyone Dies, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Honestly at this point you probably know what you're getting with me, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Slow Burn)

~*~

10. ITMF where LWJ runs away/defecting the lan sect and join the jiang sect. Like after his punishment, he feels trapped in the lan sect and leaves his forhead ribbon and then join the jiang

Bonus if JWY and LWJ become a reluctant partner in crime/coparenting

Another bonus if WWX is the only casualty

Thanks

The Price of Freedom by meyari (T, 32k, WangXian, JC/LWJ, Past Character Death, Grief/Mourning, PTSD, Post-War, Children In Danger, Past Rape/Non-con, Warning: JGS, Physical Abuse, Chronic Pain, Canon-Typical Violence, seriously a lot of grief and loss, no resurrections (yet), LQR Bashing, Execution, excessive discipline, Platonic Relationships) note that it's tagged for JC/LWJ but it actually is more platonic

Delight in Misery by nirejseki (Not rated, 44k, WangXian, JC & WWX, JC & LWJ, JC/LWJ, WIP, Canon Divergence, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Accidental Life Partner Acquisition)

First Love by Kaunakukko (Liitohauki), translation of Первая любовь by AlexVulpinus and Mathew, (M, 109k, JC/LWJ, Memory Loss, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Drama & Romance, Post-First Siege of the Burial Mounds, Translation - English, Original - Russian)

picking up the pieces by KouriArashi (M, 111k, JYL & LWJ, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Alternate Canon, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Regret, Family, Kid Fic, Families of Choice, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Politics, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, canon typical political bullshit, Eventual Happy Ending) is an AU where Jiang Yanli lives while Jiang Cheng dies. Lan Wangji takes Yuan to Lotus Pier to raise him alongside Jiang Yanli raising Jin Ling.

❤️ For Both Of Us (And Time Is But A Paper Moon) by sami (E, 65k, WangXian, Time Travel, Some People Live/Not Everyone Dies, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Canon Divergence, Asexual JC, First Time, Getting Together, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, [Podfic] Cold read of For Both Of Us (And Time Is But A Paper Moon) by kisahawklin, Для нас обоих (И время лишь бумажная луна) (Russian translation) by nomuad) I'm not sure if this is exactly what OP it's looking for, as this is a) a time travel fic and b) LWJ defects to the Jiang sect after the Cloud Recesses lectures. But hopefully OP can still enjoy

~*~

11. ITMF a fic where lwj pines/crushes hard on wwx. light hearted and indulgent vibes, preferably modern au but cloud recesses arc also welcome. thank youu @f1sh1ng4gl0ry

every time we kiss i swear i could fly by sarahyyy (T, 2k, WangXian, College/University, Kissing Booths, Misunderstandings, Getting Together, First Kiss, Love Confessions)

How Wei Ying Went from Oblivious Idiot to Shameless Boyfriend in Three Days by misscam (T, 5k, wangxian, Modern, College/University, Getting Together, Humor)

💖 love on 35mm by fakeplasticlily (M, 26k, wangxian, modern au, college/university au, pining, LWJ is BFFs with JYL)

mating rituals by detectorist (E, 16k, WangXian, XuanLi, Modern AU, College/University, Humour, Pining, Getting Together, Idiots in Love)

🔒 you’ve ruined my life (by not being mine) by cicer (E, 132k, WangXian, Modern AU, Developing Relationship, Idiots in Love, Awkward Flirting, teenage romance, Shameless WWX, slowburn, Demisexuality, references to lqr’s a+ parenting, references to jfm’s a+ parenting, but we’re gonna get a happy ending ANYWAY, references to yzy’s a+ parenting, Background NMJ/LXC, hints of nmj/lxc/jgy, bottom LWJ in chapter 15)

r/relationships by vespertineflora (T, 8k, WangXian, Modern AU, Social Media, Viral Reddit Post, Pining, Crushes, Friends to Lovers, Awkward Flirting, Romantic Gestures, Romantic Comedy, Love Confessions, Kissing, Happy Ending)

it’s just (aah) a little crush (crush!) by sweetlolixo (T, 9k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Romance, Fluff, Pining LWJ, Humor, Courting Rituals, Teen Wangxian)

~*~

12. For the next itmf I wanted some time travel from post-Canon to the Sunshot campaign, I haven't been able to find anything like this but I'm fairly dure it exists 😢 thank u ♡

🔒 Forget Myself in Memories by geethr75 (T, 10k, JC& WWX, JC & JL, JL & LSZ & LJY & OYZZ, WangXian, LXC & NMJ, JYL/JZX, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Time Travel Fix-It, Juniors travel to the past, Post-Canon, Canon Divergence, double trouble, Past WWX meets future WWX in MXY's body, Past JC meets future JC, Sect Leader JL, Sect Leader OYZZ, Sect Heir LJY, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, JGY dies as Meng Yao, SS and JZN dies, JGS dies, WQ & WN lives, JYL & JZX Lives, Canon doesn't exist anymore, no golden core transfer, No golden core melting, The Juniors save the day, WWX saves the day too, Alternate Timelines)

Lynchpin by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 103k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Fix-It)

Stubborn Shadows by secretlyteo (teobunn) (T, 24k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, comes in at the moment WC dies, Wangxian ducking around with their past selves, LSZ is tired and would like to go home)

Time Travel, Obviously by nirejseki (Not Rated, 1k, Time Travel, Crack)

Whatever it takes by Moonlit_dewdrops (T, 115k, JC & WWX, WangXian, JC & WWX & JYL, JC/WQ, JYL & WQ, WWX & WQ, WWX & JGY, WWX & JZX, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Not Everyone Dies, yunmeng prides, POV JC, POV WWX; WQ & WN live, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, WWX & JC actually communicate, Yunmeng Siblings fluff, But Also Some Angst, Lots of WangXian moments, Protective JC, Protective LWJ, JGS & JXN will die for sure, NMJ Lives, Twin Prides of Yunmeng Feels, Slow burn but not for Wangxian, Brotherhood, justice for the wen remnants, JYL & JZX Live, Wen Remnants Live, Cinnamon Roll WN, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Cannibalism, reference to wwx’s suicide, Established Relationship, Torture)

🔒 if you can’t beat them, recruit them by moeblobmegane (T, 228k, Wangxian, NHS & WWX, WWX & WQ, Time Travel Fix-It, Conspiracy, Spies & Secret Agents, Team as Family, Found Family, Burial Mounds, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Pining, Morally Ambiguous Character, Rumors, Politics, Developing Friendships, Good Uncle LQR, Demonic Cultivation, YilingWei Sect)

~*~

13. Hey do yall have any fic recs where wwx needs more recovery after the battle at nightless city at the end of the sunshot campaign? @turtleoftheabyss

Tether by WithBroomBefore (T, 40k, WangXian, SangLi, WWX’s passive suicidality, Canon Divergence, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, WWX Lives, JYL Lives, Golden Core Reveal, Minor Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, POV JYL, Grief/Mourning, Sunshot Campaign, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, LWJ makes friends, Fix-It, Happy Ending)

~*~

14. Hi so do you have any fix where wwx is like a mother to the juniors like he gives motherly advice and is a comfort to everyone and acts like a mother too and the juniors secretly refer to him as their mother or some kind of mother figure @constancebloodstone

~*~

15. Hello! ITMF a fic where wangxian spend at least part of the fic living far away from the cultivation world, something where wwx gets a chance to heal and live away from all the politics and drama.

Thank you so much for all the work you do! I’ve found so many wonderful fics scrolling though this blog, you’re amazing!!

💙🔒Away from Trouble by Ilona22 (M, 15k, WangXian, Not JC Friendly, LWJ/WWX Get a Happy Ending)

Discarded by teawater (E, 187k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Dying Lan children, Hurt/Comfort, YL WWX, Golden Core Reveal, Case Fic, Depression, Family Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Angst with a Happy Ending, and it’s not always dark, POV Multiple, BAMF WWX, dubious morals in the Lan sect Feels, Pining, Grief, Fix-It, BAMF LWJ)

And They Have Escaped The Weight of Darkness by cosmicmilktea (T, 10k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Memory Loss, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Screw the Cultivation world tbh, The Lan precepts deserves better, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, domestic life, Social justice boyfriends wangxian, Happy Ending) These next two may also work but Wei Ying develops amnesia in both and doesn't remember his past

🧡 the river brought you here by chilianxianzi (Not Rated, 11k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, POV Outsider, Amnesia, Past abuse, Strangulation, Found Family) These next two may also work but Wei Ying develops amnesia in both and doesn't remember his past

wide enough and wild by impossibletruths (E, 64k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Getting Together, Canonical Accidental Baby Acquisition, Families of Choice, References to Depression, Happy Ending, I Swear To God I’m Giving Them A Happy Ending, Overzealous Use Of Imagery, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Well Except WN But He Was Already Dead So, Fix-It of Sorts, [Podfic] Wide Enough and Wild by semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona))

~*~

16. ITMF where peoplw found out/relized that the resentful energy is the one that keep WWX alive or functional. Thanks

The Core Issue by Hauntcats (T, 21k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Not JC Friendly, Canon Divergence)

❤️ three surgeries and a mercy kill by MarbleGlove (T, 11k, medical procedures, fix-it, Demonic Cultivation, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Self-Indulgent, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies)

🧡 decay by antebunny (G, 15k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, the fluffiest ending, Hurt/Comfort)

~*~

17. Hi, I'm hoping that someone has recs of mxy being pregnant before bringing back wwx, so when wwx comes back he is pregnant

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[cupids-chamber]

VIL SCHOENHEIT driving you home, RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS cooking for you, and JAMIL VIPER doing your henna...

Content tags: Gender Neutral Reader, Iffy writing (Haven't wrote in awhile), Un-edited witting, Slightly self indulgent (In some parts), fluff.

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The sun shined brightly in your eyes, the pain stung but was numbed by the feeling of his cold hands around your own. His hands were calloused, a bit rough, a contrast to your own softer hands. The pattern of his breathing was quite comforting, the way his chest rose and fell back as his eyes were focused onto you, his voice soothed the aching thumbing in your head and chest, you felt hot all over as your thoughts kept spiraling around, all over the place.

The cold ink was a comforting contrast to the warmth of the sun and the ache in your ears, this position hurt but the complaints were all muffled in the comforting solace of his voice, the small words of praise as he went on with his work. Intricate patterns covered your hands, both sides were stained bright orange and dark red inks, the strong scent of henna almost made you feel dizzy, slightly dazed. Flower patterns and weird yet unique patterns were all over your arms.

You could see the way his hands shook, the way he focused so intently on you, the way he'd wrap his free hand around yours and fill up the awkward silence with some random story of his or some sort of babble about his work just to keep you entertained while he worked away. He's always been dedicated to his work, but even more so when it involves you.

You looked at him, from over the counter. Watching as he struggled with the utensils, looking over the instructions that were written in the new cook book that you had recently gotten him. Frankly, you doubted he'd be interested that much, but the way he'd react, his expression of excitement as he shared his creation with you, just the way he’d be so giddy after he successfully made a new recipe was something that you were reminded of while book shopping. So, you couldn’t really stop yourself from buying the book, especially when you realized that it was a dessert book. 

He was focused intently on cooking, mixing away, you could see him shift through the kitchen in search of ingredients, the way he'd pace back from the pantry and back to the kitchen. You could see the ways his facial features would contort, as he whispered some muffled curses to himself while cooking. It was adorable really. 

At the end of the day, he wouldn't admit it, but he loved the way your eyes would light up when he made the recipe just to your liking. He is slightly embarrassed by it, but he would never address the fact that he made sure to slightly adjust the recipe and sweetness to your liking, every now and then. He’ll never tell you that he's willing to make subtle changes to see you smile or the way your smile makes all of it worth it. 

The sky was cloudy, everything was a blur really tonight. Your mind was still a bit dazed, and in the back of your head you could hear a small voice telling you you'd regret the drinks that you had back in the bar. The traffic lights flashed, as he steered the wheel; the lights were much more vibrant at night, it hurt your eyes, so much so that you debated pulling down the sun visor.

The windows were rolled down, the same pop song repeating in the radio as you stared at him, dazed, eyes glazed over as you felt yourself grow tired. The wind blew through his hair, flowing in the wind. Your bangs would blow in your face due to the harsh wind, and you regretted rolling down your entire window but was too distracted to really do anything about it.

You could see him, looking at you, checking in on you every now and then, sometimes reminding you every now and then "fix your posture, or else the cops might pull us over", you'd hum in response, continuing staring at him. You probably didn't notice the way he'd turn around, ears slightly flushed red, and that lovesick grin on his face every time he noticed you staring at him.

© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[cindersnows]

i think as viewers we find it easy to sit back and judge each character until their motivations are explained to us in detail like with purple and king and chosen. even with victim its fairly easy to guess a portion of why she is doing this. and that's partially because avam is just made to be like that so all audiences can understand it and why the characters do what they do, and also partially because it's a little difficult to do more subtle storytelling when you can only express character feelings through their body language (and the body language has to be fairly exaggerated so that everyone can understand how the character is feeling).

so then as a result when we see green falling deep into the hole of social media it's easy to scoff and judge and say come on green, do better. we see it as him just getting too cocky again- look at green with his ego and his need to seem cool, he's sucking up to people again so he can get validation. and people understand that, they're even comparing his arc to purple, but they're forgetting to actually see things from his point of view.

like yeah. green was mean to yellow! and that was a kind of assholey thing to do, agreeing with people when they say yellow didn't do much. but like people do stupid shit all the time, especially to get approval. green hearting mean comments wasn't him on his villain arc, he probably barely thought about it. haven't you ever done anything without thinking or made a joke in bad taste. honestly it's a little ironic how quick people were to jump on him when he did something kind of mean, it reminded me of actual cancel culture! fascinating shit. we really are a part of the story.

anyways green started off as the weakest. he tries his best to be good at other things, first building, then music, but for some reason whenever he does well in something his friends get jealous or upset. (he pours himself into that thing and unintentionally ignore s or snaps at his friends--- its a repeating pattern at this point). it's mostly because their competitive spirit, something which is seen in a lighthearted manner but has gotten them killed or hurt on multiple occasions and i feel like they're going to have to address that at some point. whenever green sets boundaries, they're ignored, even if cg think they're just acting in the greater good.

hell, even purple, we've barely seen them interact after s3- who's to say purple wouldn't just scoff at him as well? she's already not very experienced with actual friendships (based on the way they just expected green to brush the betrayal off in parkour, they acted more like it was a small disagreement than a full on issue), so he may just assume this is how friends are.

basically the point of this is to say, no one ever celebrates his success. obviously he's competitive with his friends too, but having been at the bottom of the group from the start, he's visibly very insecure about this stuff, and having people attempt to kick him down during every success he gets (which he works very hard for) will lead to him needing validation from elsewhere. clearly, social media is supposed to give him this.

but like someone in the community pointed out, now he's appealing to hundreds of thousands of people instead of just 5 or 6. the praise is awesome, but seeing that people still have criticism of him just makes him throw himself into his work even more. it also probably functions as a form of escapism for him; he's so busy working, editing, writing, he barely even notices that his friends are avoiding him. it's possible he's purposely using youtube as a way to ignore his gut. anyways, blue's still willing to hang out and record with him, so what's the issue? (it's not as if blue is the least confrontational of the cg lol)

i have. been in this exact position. the moment you make anything, you're looking straight at the numbers. it becomes what you think of in the morning and during the creation process. you're skimming comments for keywords--- good, bad, more, less, etc. you listen even when you don't mean to. yeah maybe the guy was a little mean about one of my friends but ultimately it's just constructive criticism! it's not like she'll see this anyway. it's fine.

and yeah green needs to stop being so obsessive but i think he deserves to break down first. like what ash said--- he expresses his negative emotions the least out of everyone, he barely takes breaks, it's going to come crashing down. and i think when cg confront him about his behaviour he deserves to yell at them for the way he gets treated. it really hurts when all you are is the butt of the joke even when they mean it in a lighthearted way. if the arc just ends with green being knocked down a peg as usual, i will be very fucking upset because he's literally already at the bottom of the ladder, what more do you want?

[yan-lorkai]

Good Morning/afternoon/evening! Can I request a headcanon with a reader who comes back to Twst (after they have returned to their world) and finds yandere Idia made a robot (like Ortho) that looks like them and have the same personality as them? Thanks! ✨💖

Returning to Twisted Wonderland this time was a choice you made after thinking and rethinking the pros and cons, after remembering everything you would be leaving behind. But the pros were greater than the cons, at least you thought. And when you came back, you knew what you wanted to do, look for Idia.

It wasn't really difficult to imagine where he would be, even though a few months had passed you knew he wouldn't have changed that much. However, you should have known how wrong things were when you saw Ortho and he looked surprised, and fearful, trying to dissuade you from opening the door. Trying to keep you from seeing what his brother had done.

But his attempt was futile. You opened the door, received Idia's permission and entered. But nothing could have prepared you to find your own face staring back at you when you entered Idia's room, the emulated expression of surprise making everything more uncomfortable. You and Idia were paralyzed for different reasons, inert, not knowing how to react. However, you recovered faster while he were still processing the entire situation.

"What the fuck is this?" You curse as you look with a mix of admiration and apprehension at your copy. Every little detail was exactly perfect, the same as the original, the same skin tone, the same hair, even the gestures were the same. It wouldn't matter if Idia had a plausible explanation for this, it was clear that he had created a robot to take your place to fill the void in his chest when you left. And it made you feel a little sorry for him, just a little.

"W-well, you see..." Idia can only mutter and whisper gibberish, his hair turning completely pink at being caught with such a strange creation. All this while said creation continues to maintain an impeccable posture, erect and proud, observing you, analyzing.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my name is Yuu." The robot introduces themselves, without knowing or noticing the tension around them. It's so strange. There is no life behind those eyes like there is in Ortho, it is empty and dull plastic. It's uncomfortable to look at. "I'm Idia's lover and we're planning our wedding for after we graduate. Should we invite them, honey?"

Silence. It's embarrassing, invasive and wrong, this all felt too much, should you feel betrayed? Sad? Happy? Or honored that Idia created yet another robot? You didn't know at that moment. All you knew was that you needed to get out of there and you needed it now. But the door was now closed and locked, and no matter how many times you open it or yell at Idia nothing works. He has you now, he doesn't want to let you leave again. He can take your fear, he can take even your hate but having you leave again, even if only for your old dorm? That he can't handle. He won't.

"Prototype Yuu, shut down." He announces, finally recovering from his shock. He acts nonchalantly but you know he feels really awkward and anxious. "Listen, we can talk about it. It's not what it looks like."

You scoff. "Lover? Marriage? Yeah, it's exactly what it looks like, Idia. You created a robot that looks like me, that sounds like me. Because you still don't know how to deal with loss and you need comfort in the only way you know how to receive it."

Touché. He looks like a wounded dog that you kicked. But you find that you don't care at all. "You didn't have to call me out like that, you know." He mumbles but doesn't deny how right you are. "Plus how I was supposed to live without you? I felt so empty, so cold. But I didn't want to stop you from going home because it would hurt you. I can always destroy this prototype if you want, just please don't leave me again!"

He grabs both of your hands, holding onto them as if they were his lifesavers that keep him above the water so he won't drown while he stare at you without blinking, tiny little tears starting to run down his face. Now, can you forgive him or not?

[johannestevans]

Breeding season for a monster and kabru being captured and on the verge of being pinned down and fucked

And laios rushing to rescue him and hesitating to study the situation for JUST a second before disentangling him

And kabru afterwards being. Mindnumbingly horny about the idea of laios leaving him to be bred by some creature

Kabru imagining getting fucked or eggpregged by a monster in rut, desperately horny with the aphrodisiacs pumped into him, belly bulging with cum or eggs

And the idea of laios just watching him, touching himself, or even touching kabru, saying earnestly that he's doing a great job and that he's really adding to the ecosystem!

And laios when kabru mentions it is like

What??? No, I wouldn't let Something hurt you!

And kabru who mutters, what about one that wouldn't hurt me? By doing this?

And laios going, no, no, I care more about you than monsters--

So insecure about being misread, about being thought of as compassionless or uncaring

kabru humiliated as he tries to express in the least direct and explicit way possible (to laios, one of the most literal men in all of creation) that he WANTS this, that he wants this as a sex game, and he's trying to get laios to play without kabru having to admit he wants it

[lotusmi]

SUCCESS STORY!!🤎🧸

tw//mental problems, abusive family, bullying, suicide attempt, manifest/void obsession

first of all i want to thank lotus because it helped me even when i was thinking about suicide❤️‍🩹

it's been years since I learned loa and I was having problems with the manifest. althought I have known loa for 2-3 years, i constantly reacted to 3D and for such reasons I could not manifest anything for 2-3 years. and when i first learned loa i was obsessed with void. I was hurting myself to enter void. like if you don't enter void today I will kill you. i was crazy because of void. at the same time, I was staying in the family environment that dragged me to death, and I was bullied at school . i was hated by people even though i did nothing. i tried to commit suicide many times, my family wouldn't let me go to the therapist. also, no one said anything to the bullying I saw. thats why I bullied myself for years in the same way. if I told anyone I was being bullied and asked for help, they would say it was probably my problem to my face💀💀 and towards the end of 2022, i seriously couldn't stand it anymore. i was constantly reading blogs [i think there is no blog i haven't read, lmao] and the last time i couldn't stand it, i tried suicide again, but i failed. later i wrote to lotus and she gave me a lot of advice (baby ily😩❤️) and i cried more than i have ever cried that night. the problem is that while people were already ruining me, the real problem was that i was ruining myself too. after that day, in the first week, i had so many problems in my manifest journey. but until 2023, i said to myself, "i don't want to live like this anymore. i deserve the life I want.” i made a promise. and every time I felt like quitting, i remembered my promise to myself. and now i have revised my whole life, i live in dubai🤭. if you're going to ask how i did this, i started to listen to my inner voice, i almost stopped entering tumblr. i stopped affirming and wrote down the things that i was gonna revise one by one, and added them to the notes app on my phone. i made a note at the bottom that I already have these in my life. when “what if I can't manifest the life I want?” if such thoughts came to my mind, i told myself that the creation was already finished. in this process, i focused only on myself and was developing my self concept. before I went to bed at night, i was constantly imagining the life I wanted and I was staying in that state and saying I already had the life I wanted, I didn't affirm anything extra. and even those who made life difficult for me started to apologize to me. (i manifested their karma life lol) anyway I don't want to talk more about those bitches but I want to mention this. please take a break. relax. stay away from things like void, loa for a few days. I noticed that some of you are obsessed with void on this blog. but i must say void is just a method. if i manifested the life i wanted when i was only 12-13 years old, you can do it too. take a break and do what feels good to you. love yourself. loa blogs can help you up to a point. they can't spare all their days for you. start taking responsibility. find manifest methods that work well for you. love yourself. meditate. i’ve talked a lot but I would like to add that, if someone tells you that you are the cause of the circumstances you are experiencing right now, that you created the conditions in which you live, please tell them to shut their fucking mouths. no such thing. i was blaming myself again, thinking what a disgusting monster i am just because this “you create ur reality” thingy. but the truth is that creation is already over. good luck!

MY FAV SUCCESS STORY TO EXIST!!!! 😭

I literally cried when this girl texted me saying she is living her dream life, I was so pround, I am pround 💗

Backstory, she first texted me 12/15/2022

She told me everything about her circumstances, they were really bad ones, and she was 12 at time and this made my heart so broken (she revised her age) since her parents were really toxic and disgusting ( I am not going to say much about her old story).

So I told her all about the toxic home I lived and how I manifested it away too (my success, my failures).

So, time passed and 01/feb I got this text!

I literally cried because I was so happy for herrrr 💗😭😭

"How she did it?"

She focused in her inner Self being the only reality and ignored all circumstances!

"and i would love to you to add those youtubers and blogs" insta: - kriston jackson youtube: - lana blakely tumblr: - @becomingthatgirl111 — other sources abt loa: - joe dispenza, edward art"

I literally cried so much and I am so happy for you my angel, look how you did it! You were 12 and revised your whole life! 💗💗💗

And that are people out there who don't believe that it is possible to manifest things. Look at this girl 💓

You did it amazing love, I am so pround of you. You are deserving of all the best things in the world. I wish you all the fun in life. Thank you sm for sending me this, I feel so appreciated that I had helped you, but who did all of this was YOU! 💗💗💗

✉️You all, everything is possible!

[ebongawk]

13 for hellcheer, she asks anxiously

13. A Sorry Kiss

Her heart was in her throat when she knocked on his door.

She'd messed up. She'd messed up so bad. She'd been–– God, why did she do that? Why was she such a coward? How could she treat him like that? Like he was–– Like he was a stranger. And, oh God, the hurt in his eyes had nearly broken her heart. Hurt that she had caused.

Hurt she wasn't sure she could fix.

The minute or so it took Eddie to finally answer the door made her want to scream. Or cry. Or run away.

But her cowardice had already caused Eddie pain today. She couldn't–– She wouldn't do it again.

When the door did finally creak open, Chrissy could have sobbed with relief.

The cold, even expression he wore seemed intent on wiping that relief against the wooden floors, however.

"Figured that was you," he said, leaving the door open behind him as he turned away. Disappearing back around the corner of his apartment toward the kitchen.

Chrissy toed her sneakers off in the hallway, even though Eddie always told her it wasn't necessary. Old habits die hard.

She'd proven that today.

Maybe that was the problem, though. Maybe those habits never really died of natural causes. Maybe they had to be killed. Maybe she hadn't tried hard enough to kill those pieces of her past for him. Or maybe she had, but she was so covered in scar tissue that they echoed up from her infinity, regardless.

Silence was settled over the space of his apartment. Infiltrating every available square inch with a pressing weight Chrissy was so unaccustomed to here. Normally, the little home Eddie had carved out for himself in this corner of Chicago was full of light and color and noise. Music or television or just Eddie himself, giving life to his endless stream of conscious thought that he was completely unafraid to voice.

Chrissy was the only one who held fear so close to their chest, it seemed.

If there'd been any doubt that she had hurt him, it was dispelled the moment she found the courage to patter her way into the kitchen. Because he didn't offer her a drink or a snack. He didn't look at her. All she was afforded was the stretch and retraction of his muscles as he put the dishes in the dish drain away.

Dishes they'd washed together just the night before. A byproduct of having cooked together, because she found it so much easier to eat when Eddie was there encouraging her to taste the creation they'd conjured up together.

It was always delicious.

She needed to tell him how much those meals meant to her. How much he meant to her. Even if she hadn't portrayed that in the slightest today.

"Eddie?"

He said nothing. Didn't even turn toward her to let her know he was listening. He just continued dropping silverware into the drawer, clearly taking his time with every individual piece.

Plink. Plink. Plink.

"Can, um. Can we please talk?"

"Not real sure what you could possibly have to say to me, Cunningham." He snorted as she wilted like a crushed flower. Because Cunningham.

He hadn't called her Cunningham since the day after they met again. His stream of pet names for her had seemed endless, and she delighted in each new one he bestowed upon her. Collecting them like little trophies to display on the shelf of her mind.

"Considering, y'know, you don't know me and all."

Gosh. Gosh. Nuggets, she'd messed up. She was–– She was awful, wasn't she? The worst type of person.

She was exactly what her mother wanted her to be. Which was especially ironic, considering she hadn't spoken to her mother in nearly a year.

Eddie stumbled back into her life on the cusp of summer break three-and-a-half months prior. She'd just taken a new job at a little used bookstore a few blocks away from campus. Within walking distance of her dorm, which was perfect since she didn't have a car and had no intention of going home for a three-month nightmare.

He'd burst into that cramped little shop like a windstorm, ripping the breath from her lungs and stilling the heart in her chest.

She knew him, of course. Everyone from Hawkins knew Eddie Munson.

She just didn't expect him to be here, of all places. In Chicago. Miles from home after essentially disappearing as soon as he had his diploma.

With no other customers to entertain, they ended up walking around the store together, Eddie picking out new-to-him paperbacks as he told her how he'd ended up in the Windy City. How he'd moved there with a member of his band, how they were trying to get their music off the ground with half their instrumentals. How he'd been working as a mechanic – citing prior experience, which was a little factoid Chrissy clung to like rubber cement – and moonlighting at a bar a few weekends a month.

In the end, Eddie bought eight new books, Chrissy wrote her number on the back of the receipt so they could catch up, and thus started the most incredible romance story anyone in history had ever experienced. At least, from her perspective, that had to be the case.

They just... They just fit. In that way that didn't happen, not outside of romcoms and books. Yet, as different as they were on the outside, they managed to fold seamlessly into each other's lives. Two vines that had been growing congruently, just awaiting the moment they could finally entangle.

It was the best summer of Chrissy's life. There was no comparison. She could write entire novels about how perfect it had been. She'd actually started one.

And then school started up again. Chrissy resumed her schedule with her new classes, and she and Eddie didn't get to see each other as often. That didn't stop her from doodling his name in the margins of her notes, of course. Didn't stop her from daydreaming about him – about the way his fingers easily strummed the strings of his guitar as he showed her the new songs he'd been writing; the way his lips curled into a smile when he said her name, like he couldn't contain the joy of calling for her; the way he laughed, big and open and honest, when she said something coy or cheeky that he hadn't been expecting.

It was amidst one of these daydreams, in fact, that she had the misfortune of stumbling upon a small group of people she recognized.

Other people from Hawkins.

People like Carol Perkins and Tommy Harold and Melissa Thompson. Mean people, gossipy people. People who had parents that Chrissy knew, because they attended the same church she had her entire life.

She'd hoped they wouldn't say anything. Wouldn't see her. Would simply let her pass by, a blip on their radars of near-familiarity.

But her hair was distinct. Carol made fun of the color constantly, all through elementary school. Told her she had copper hair, like pennies, because her family was first-generation rich, whatever that meant.

(Eddie loved her hair. Told her it was gorgeous every time he ran his fingers through it. That it'd been woven together by sirens who couldn't decide on one color, so they picked everything warm.)

"Oh, my gosh!" Melissa shouted, her voice pitched so high it scraped against Chrissy's inner ears. "Is that Chrissy Cunningham?"

They wouldn't know she'd chosen Chicago because they graduated a year earlier than she did. And, in that lovely gap year, Chrissy had forgotten it was their school of choice, as well.

"Well, well, well," Carol said with a smirk as she smacked her gum. Another old habit that refused to give way to the passage of time. "What's Miss Penny Loafer doing here?"

That rude elementary school nickname still made her want to crawl out of her own skin. Made her want to bleach her hair.

She should have told them to fuck off, like Eddie would have. She should have turned and walked away. Instead she stood there, stuck to the pavement like the soles of her shoes had melted beneath the September sun.

Tommy chastised Carol's crassness with an arm thrown loosely around her shoulders, and the way his eyes roved over Chrissy had her stomach churning.

Don't look at me, she wanted so desperately to say. Only Eddie gets to look at me.

And then, like she'd conjured him from her deepest desires, he was suddenly there. Calling her name from across the street, waving a half-bouquet of daisies that he'd almost definitely picked from the school's garden. Surprising her. Because they didn't get to see each other that much. Because he wanted to see her.

Eddie.

She couldn't say his name. Couldn't rush to his side, or step between him and Tommy's disgusted disbelief as he said, "Ew, what the hell? Is that the Freak?"

"D-Don't––"

Don't call him that.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" Carol asked, revulsion lacing every word. "Chrissy, do you know this asshole?"

But, oh God. Oh, God. What if they said something to their parents about this? What if...

What if word gets back to my mom? That I'm seeing Eddie?

Someone she would recognize.

Someone she would hate.

What if she––?

"Hey, toots," Eddie said as he walked up, critical eyes jumping between Carol, Tommy and Melissa. Narrowed in distaste, Eddie pursed his lips. "Damn. Wasn't expecting a high school reunion today. I would've whipped out my Sunday best."

"Kinda hard to have a reunion with us, Freak," Tommy spat in response. "Since, you know, you failed to graduate in our class."

Eddie just grinned. Easy and confident in that way that she loved, even as her entire body stayed motionless and rigid beside him.

"Well," Eddie shrugged, "We don't all have mommies that are willing to pull, uh, special favors for our grades, now do we, Thomas?"

Tommy's expression immediately fell cold, and he took a menacing step toward Eddie for regurgitating the Harold's worst-kept rumor.

"Oh, fuck you, Munson––"

"Sorry, pal, you're not really my type."

"Wait," Melissa said, her finger dancing between Eddie and Chrissy. "Wait. Are you guys, like...?" She twisted her pointer and middle fingers together, eyebrows raised. Both Carol and Tommy's faces twisted with abhorrence.

Eddie laughed, rolling his eyes.

"Uh, ye––"

"No," Chrissy answered immediately. Taking a half-step away from Eddie. Refusing to look at him. "No, um. We–– I barely know him."

The quiet that followed threatened to drown her. To climb down her throat and suffocate her from the inside.

But it was Eddie's half-broken, "Chris...?" that finally pulled her eyes to his.

In the three months they'd been together, Chrissy had borne witness to a lot of Eddie's faces. Happiness shined brightest in her memory, but concentration, frustration, annoyance, contentedness – they'd all flicked over his expression at one point or another.

This was none of those.

This was pure, absolute devastation.

It was so brief, Chrissy almost prayed she misread him. It was like, from one second to the next, he went from absolutely heartbroken to cold and aloof. Affixing that same easy smile, but it was bare of anything behind it. Lips twisting up in a sneer, Eddie gave another easy shrug.

"Got it," he said, giving her an easy salute. She hoped, she hoped, that he really did understand. That he could read her mind, that he knew why she'd so callously denied what they had together.

And then, as he hopped the curb to cross the street, he threw those daisies into the road. Scattering their stems, letting them succumb to the tires of passing cars.

She felt her heart among those flowers, muscle bleeding across the pavement as tires tracked through her blood.

Because she knew, then and there, that she'd messed up. That she needed to repair the hurt she'd caused.

She begged off from Carol and Tommy with some bullshit excuse, sprinted to her dorm to unload her books, and then booked it to the nearest bus so she could get to Eddie.

Now, here he was. Rightfully angry. She suspected it was a thin layer of anger, haphazardly smeared over the top of the sea of hurt she'd caused. The light from a lighthouse bouncing beams off the ocean, shielding the shadows from view.

"Can I––?"

"Why are you even here, Cunningham?" Eddie asked, fury wrapped around every syllable, every letter of his sentence. It struck her in the chest, each word volleyed out like it'd been specifically designed to thrust that hurt right back into her arms. "Crawling back to the source of your shame?"

"I'm not––"

"Don't fucking lie to me," Eddie hissed, finally, finally turning toward her. Speaking so harshly, in a way he never had with her. And she–– She nearly withered under his stony glare. Nearly fell to her knees and cried and begged him to see, to see her. But she couldn't. She couldn't. Right now, more than ever, she needed to be strong. She needed him to understand more than he saw. "You were standing there with two of the worst fucking people to ever live in our shitty hometown, and you lied to them to save your own goddamn image. So don't pretend this means fuck all to you, alright?"

"Eddie, no––"

"So why don't you skip your way back to your little popularity bubble, huh? Won't you be happier among the bullshit and sparkles?"

"Listen to me," she said, as firmly as she was capable. Realizing, now, just how deep the wound went. How it wasn't her alone that caused him to bleed. How she'd simply scraped the scab off something older, something that festered beneath the surface of his confidence.

She could see it now. It was in her own stomach, peeled back for the world to see the moment Carol called her Penny Loafer.

Eddie, face still twisted with exasperation, at least took a moment to be quiet for her.

"I am not ashamed of you," Chrissy said. Eddie scoffed, but she pressed on before he could speak. "I'm not. Eddie, I–– You're the best part of me, okay? And I––"

The tears she'd been burying all day finally reared up. Filling her eyes, blurring him before her, and she watched the way he shifted. Hoped, prayed it was him wanting to reach for her, but stopping himself. She was so desperate to salvage this, to explain, that it took another moment for the words to finally get out.

"I was so afraid," she explained around the trembling lump in her throat, "that they'd–– If I told them about us, about you, they'd tell everyone else, and eventually, eventually, she––"

Screwing her eyes shut, the hot tears tracked down her cheeks faster than she could possibly wipe them away.

"She'd find out," Chrissy sobbed, hands coming up and wrapping around her throat, "and she'd take you away from me."

"Who?"

"My mom," Chrissy wailed, scrubbing at her eyes, but the tears just kept coming, and this wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she was distraught when she was the one who caused the hurt. Why was she like this? Why was she such a baby?

"Chrissy. How the fuck would she take me away from you when you don't even speak to her?"

She'd told him. Of course she had. How else could she explain her issues with food? Her issues with her face? Her body? Her self?

"I don't know!" Chrissy cried, and she felt Eddie suddenly in front of her, his heat rolling off his body. It took so much strength to step away, to deny his comfort. But she didn't deserve it. "But every time–– E-Every time I've ever been happy, even a little bit happy, she swoops in and she takes it. And, God, Eddie, I've never been so happy as when I'm with you. I-I can't lose that, I can't let her––"

Suddenly, before she could once again back away, she felt the sure safety of Eddie's arms as they came around her. Pulling her against his chest, his heart, and holding her there as she cried. Why was he doing this? Why was he comforting her after what she'd done? Why was he the one taking care of her when she'd discarded him as easily as a half-bouquet of daisies in the road?

"Sweetness," Eddie murmured, his voice far too forgiving. "I'm not going anywhere. Alright? She can't take me from you. You're in a different city in a different fucking state, and she has no idea where you or I live. You're safe from her. I'm gonna keep you safe, alright?"

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.

Hands sprawled against his chest, Chrissy tried to push away. To squirm out of his arms, because she didn't deserve for him being kind right now. She was supposed to be comforting him, telling him she'd take out an article in the Hawkins Post. Tell everyone they were together, consequences be damned.

Instead, he was walking her over to his small couch, every second with his arms around her chasing her demons further and further into the recesses.

"I'm sorry," she cried as he sat down and pulled her onto his lap. "I'm sorry, Eddie, I'm so sorry. I-I just want to keep you, I swear, I just want to keep you."

"I know," Eddie mumbled into her hair, the words softened against her scalp. "I know, baby. I'm sorry, too. For, uh, jumping to conclusions. For–– For forgetting, I guess, that you––"

"No." Chrissy shook her head, sniffling as she used her sweater to wipe as much of the wet on her cheeks away as she could. "No, don't–– Don't apologize. I'm the one who messed up––"

"I was being a dick––"

"With good reason––"

"We can both fuck up, toots," he said, bringing his thumbs up to gently brush away the escaping tears from beneath her eyes. "We can both let our scars get the best of us sometimes, y'know? It doesn't have to be just you or just me."

"But you wouldn't have killed my flowers if I hadn't been so... so mean."

Eddie cringed around an awkward chuckle, filling her eyes with that warm, dimpled smile. Making her want to melt onto him, into him, until they were fused as one.

"Yeah, uh. That may have been my dramatic side." Blowing out a raspberry, Eddie rolled his eyes at himself. "I fuckin' hate Tommy H., though, I can't be held accountable for what I do around that guy."

"You hate everyone."

"Not you," he assured her, brushing her hair back over one ear and cupping her cheek in his palm. "Never you, peaches, I swear."

Turning her face into his hand, Chrissy kissed his palm. Then, bringing her own hands up to his face, she pulled him into a soft, slow kiss. Trying to convey her apology, then letting it slip up from her lungs anyway when the quiet didn't feel like enough.

"I'm sorry."

She kissed him again, and Eddie groaned, lingering for a long moment before pulling far enough away to say:

"I'm sorry."

Grinning into the next kiss, Chrissy let her tongue dart out to taste his upper lip. Turning her head when he chased her with another, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry," Eddie said again after a quick peck.

"I'm sorry," Chrissy repeated when they were forced to break apart for air. Gasping, she said, "I'm sorry, Eddie, I love you."

She didn't have time to gauge his reaction to this new admittance. All at once, she was engulfed. In kiss and embrace, she was enveloped in Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

"I love you," he groaned for the first time, the words like ancient music. A song she remembered from a past life bubbling up to the surface after laying dormant for decades and millennia.

Never new. Always Eddie.

"I love you."

"I'm sorry."

"'m soloverry."

"Eddie, that's not––" He kissed her again, and she laughed. She laughed, after everything. He made her laugh. "Not a word!"

"Is now." He grinned, and she could taste his happiness. "Soloverry, sweetness."

Chrissy kissed him, standing atop all that fear and uncertainty a thousand daisies in her heart.

"Soloverry, Eddie Munson."

(a very late) kiss prompt!

[tinandabin]

Yandere hashiras x modern reader PART 2

Part 1

@mikoz-u I woke up and wrote this.

Having your tongue cut off wasn't pleasant, especially from your own creations. All because you happened to talk about their oh-so-sad past.

But will that stop you? No. So of course, you have to learn sign language now. And you did.

The hashiras were baby-ing you more ever since they had to 'punish you.' Really now? PUNISH? Babe, that's not a punishment, it's a crime.

Did they care? No.

Mitsuri would out of the random start blabbering apologies and start crying saying of how she was just soo sad.. She really didn't wanna hurt you! But it was for your own good. But she promises that she didn't wanna hurt you! :(

And our dear Sanemi couldn't just get enough of taunting you, saying that those were the consequences of your own action. Sometimes Obanai would join him.

He would all be like, "See? If you hadn't talked shit and acted like a brat, none of this would've happened." All the while you would be cursing him off in sign language.

All of them learnt sign language with you, which was one of the most convenient way to talk to you.

But did the all of you ever have a civil conversation? No.

You would still be taunting them in sign language, obviously.

"Sabito died because of you, Giyuu!"

"Genya is all alone and is probably dead, just because you couldn't stay in your own world, Sanemi!"

And more and more taunts at their past.

You've made them cry NUMEROUS times. But they never cried in front of you, though.

They were now contemplating cutting off your fingers.

They do regret cutting off your tongue, a bit. I mean, they can't hear your sweet voice now.. Even if it was always insulting them, still.

They just wish for you to behave like a good girl so that all of you can live in peace and harmony.

Is that too much to ask now? They've gone through so much all because of you, and now you refuse to be their place for solace and calm? Don't act so selfish, now.

All you have to do is sit there and behave. They will take care of everything else. You wouldn't even need to lift a finger.

"Ne, [Name]-Chan, please open your mouth!! This is extremely delicious," Mitsuri swooned, hovering some mochi near your mouth. You couldn't do anything but open your mouth, still remembering what happened the last time you didn't.

In the background, you could hear Obanai and Sanemi chuckle saying how their 'punishment' seemed to work.

Like a doll, you were dragged from one hashira to another. All of them saying, '"It's my turn now with [Name]!" Were you some kind of damn puppet? You would say that, but you can't. I mean, your hands are tied and you can't speak..

Muichiro dragging you with him outside to your backyard to cloud-gaze so that he can lay in your lap.

Uzui forcefully making you model different clothes he bought for you, some of them too revealing for your liking.

Kyojuro making you watch a movie with him, thinking of it as a date and all the while ignoring the fact that you were tied up.

Mitsuri styling your hair and squishing your cheeks, treating you like some kind of Teddy bear. Man, you feel like biting her hand if she touches your hair once again.

Gyomei is the most tolerable, since all he wants to do is simply be in your presence.

And then comes Shinobu The Witch. She is probably secretly researching how to make a 'love potion.' If given the right materials, then man you are doomed. I feel like she would enjoy gardening with you. To her, it feels intimate.

All Giyuu wants to do is hold your hand and cuddle you. Anywhere. He doesn't care who is watching and where you are. Probably the neediest and clingy.

Sanemi would also likely make you watch him cook. Look, you can't tell me he isn't a good cook. I refuse to believe such bullshit. The food he makes is bomb, but of course, you would never admit it to his face.

Last but not least is Obanai. He is too shy to ask for your attention so he would most likely be stalking you doing different activities with everybody in the shadows.

You are just some doll for all of them. A real, breathing doll.

Masterlist