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weasleyreidstyles · 1 month

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Serendipity Headcannons; Mattheo Riddle

series masterlist

A glimpse into our main boy's life leading up to sixth year (where Serendipity kicks off) – eventually going to do them for each character (the ones who are a constant in the series), except meadow since that's more reader-centric but let me know who i should do next (this is me putting off writing chapter 17 because its making me want to rip out my hair)

It actually ended up being so long (i got carried away) that i'll have to do a separate post for the nsfw😏 hcs that i also wrote down - if that's something that people want to see of course

warning(s): cannonical violence, mentions of parental death, menions of torture and abuse (tried to make this as mild as possible), allusions to self harm (literally one bullet point), mentions of blood supremacy/cannonical pureblood madness, mentions of alcohol consumption/drug use, mentions of being sick (sorry fellow emetaphobes), allusions to an ED

Obviously he's Voldemort's son (its a known fact; when his name was called shortly after Harry's during the Sorting Ceremony, people immediately began to fear him for his last name – avoided him in corridors and older students were horrible to him)

His mother died when he was born, so he never got to meet her. But she had loved Tom Riddle with all her heart, despite knowing what kind of person he was (I like the tom hughes fancast for an older version of him – TikTok editors have me influenced)

When he failed to kill baby Harry, Theodore Nott's mum took it upon herself to care for Mattheo (who was only several months older than Harry at the time) – she was close friends with Matt's mum

They may not be related by blood, but Matt considers Theo to be his brother as well as his best friend

Mattheo's childhood (up until he was eight) was relatively acquiescent, but obviously being the heir to the Dark Lord comes with its own traumas – he was plagued with nightmares he swears were real conversations with his father

When Theo's mum died, his father wasn't the nicest to either of the boys; they both grew to resent him – the man either ignored them, shouted at them or beat them senselessly (to build character)

They had a Governess in the years after Theo's mum died, so that they'd be well ahead of their peers once they got to Hogwarts - also a way to keep them out of Theo Nott Senior's way

During his sorting, the hat immediately placed him in Slytherin, but it wasn't as quick to choose, like it was with Draco or Blaise.

Harry had unconsciously made him public enemy number one when he found out who he was (I mean his dad did kill Harry's parents so) as well as Draco and co

Mattheo doesn't believe in the blood supremacy that is spouted around pureblood families – has never used 'mudblood' to insult anyone (draco take notes fr) – but thats only due to theo's mother and the way she raised her boys – also it would be so hypocritical because he's a halfblood (i think, idk the twisted lore of purebloods too deeply)

Professor Quirrell took a particular interest towards Mattheo (his dad was literally playing house on the back of the guys head)

He found out that Quirrell was Voldemort (?) pretty quickly when the Dark Mark was burned onto his left forearm – something that continuously happened in his nightmares so he thought he was in one when it happened

Partly why he didn't say anything – he was also weary that no one would believe him

He tried everything to get it off his skin – burning, scratching, spelling, even carving it out, but nothing worked. The Dark Mark was engraved onto his arm like it had buried itself within the very cell structure of his skin

He didn't gain as much attention as Harry did in first year. He went practically under the rader after the first couple of months, only interacting with his small group of friends (Theo, Draco, Blaise, Enzo and Pansy) and competing for the top academic spot in class – when Theo's father found out that both boys were being beaten for first place by a muggleborn (go Hermione!), he used the cruciatus curse on both of them - moreso on Theo :(

Second year was a completely different story however

When the Chamber of Secrets opened, people whispered that he could be the heir of Slytherin (because his father is literally Voldemort so technically they weren't wrong) and he didn't go as unnoticed as before

He developed a thick skin towards the insults and returned them with steely looks that sent people scurrying the other way

He began physically fighting some people when his restraint snapped at times though – he didn't have a way to relieve the tension from all the agression at this point

The only people who spoke to him with no fear were his friends

When the first student was petrified, he was brought into Dumbledore's office for questioning

During the dueling session, he watched in awe as Harry spoke to the snake but didn't dare say a word

He was the only one in his group that didn't bad mouth Harry at this time or call him the 'heir of Slytherin'

He's actually really smart (not at Ancient Runes though lol) and is among one of Professor Flitwick's favourite students

When Harry and Ron posed as Crabbe and Goyle you (Meadow) had posed as Pansy and he had thought it was strange to see her with the two of them, but she had a small crush on Draco in first and second year so he brushed it off as her trying to impress his friend

But he knew it wasn't her when Draco had mentioned Hermione (calling her a mudblood) and 'Pansy' had gone deathly still

He's been skilled at Occlimency for as long as he can remember, as has Theo. But Mattheo has a certain affinity (he calls it a curse) for hearing people thoughts without even uttering the spell – also why he's so good at preventing people like Dumbledore from using it on him

Wasn't aware of his father's diary being used to lure Harry to the Chamber of Secrets, but at one point he heard the whispers in the pipes and vehemently ignored it until it eventually stopped (big mistake, cus voldy holds grudges very well)

Once Ginny was rescued from the Chamber, he felt incredibly guilty even though he literally had no control of the situation – sent her an 'anonymous' gift basket as an apology (he knew it would never make up for what happened to her, but he hoped it would at least make her smile) – it did, she thought it was a gift from dumbledore though

One of the only times he was even a little kind to the Golden Trio and their friends

The summer after second year was hellish for him and Theo

The basilisk was obviously meant to kill Harry so Theo Nott Senior was angry that his master's big plan had failed (2 years running🤝)

Third year was more mild than the last (thank God, honestly)

Mattheo had made it onto the quidditch team now that half of them had left the year before

He's a beater and proud of it – lets out all that pent up agression on the field, which makes him one of the best in his house (dare i say whole school🤭)

Quidditch became his whole personality basically (he's a teenage boy duh – it's like the football obsessed idiots in the pub levels) and he came to love the attention it brought him – he was starting to be noticed by girls outside Slytherin and making enemies with the rival players

He decided then that he wanted to play quidditch professionally in the future – he would not be caught dead behind a desk in the Ministry (they probably wouldn't hire hom anyway, simply because he's a Riddle)

Because he was on the team, he was invited to more parties which he also enjoyed – the man can drink!

But he wasn't one to jump around like a madman like some people he saw at the parties. He and his friends (those on the team – Theo, Blaise and Draco) would sit around the sofas and play drinking games with others who were sat down – including you and some of your housemates at times – but never the Gryffindors

Sirius Black was on the loose which took the pressure of being Tom Riddle's son off his shoulders somewhat – no one actually dared to fuck with Mattheo now that he was a beater either

Buckbeak took a liking to him, surprisingly, as did the thestrals that only he, Theo and so few others could see

The dementors affected him as much as they affected Harry – he could hear his own mother's cries

During the boggart lesson, he was apprehensive of what he would see – would he see what he sees in his most horrifying nightmares? Or would it be something as trivial as a grindilow or something?

Safe to say he was glad that Professor Lupin stopped the lesson after Harry's turned into the dementor

Speaking of dementors, one of the only spells he cannot cast is the Patronus Charm – even his happiest memories are not strong enough to envoke the magic

People thought he helped Sirius into the castle at one point (absurd, i know)

He and Harry got into some arguments at times – Mattheo liked to provoke him for the fun of it, mostly so that competition on the quidditch field was filled with extra tension, but also because Harry and Ron are dickheads who like to talk shit about him and his friends (hypocrites because the Slytherins literally do the same thing lol)

This is the point where you're on his radar a bit more frequently – you, Ron and Hermione went to Hogsmeade a lot and were frequently in the same places as Mattheo and his friends

He does not like you at all, partly for the fact that you follow Harry and Dumbledore so blindly but also – you are one of the reasons he and theo get so much stick at home, along with hermione being top of the class, you are as well so he grows to resent you a little

He's always there when you're yelling at anyone who says something against your friends (usually Crabbe or Goyle – our mortal enemies fr)

When Sirius escaped the dementors people genuinely thought he helped (again, absurd i know)

Moving onto fourth year...he went to the Quidditch World Cup with Theo and Nott Senior disappeared after the match ended and festivities began

We all know what happened but when the Dark Mark appeared in the sky, Theo, Draco and Mattheo all looked at it in absolute horror, having heard the harrowing stories first hand from their families

Mattheo had a panic attack at the thought of his father returning – after the run in with him in first year, he's been certain that Voldemort isn't really dead, and this confirms it for him (because why the fuck would his father's mark appear out of nowhere?)

Because of that, the school year is off to a great start

He gets into fights left, right and centre – especially since quidditch has been cancelled in favour of hosting the Triwizard Tournament (i've obviously aged up the characters but lets pretend the age limit still exists in some capacity)

The Durmstrang students practically worshipped the ground he walked on – which was ego boosting to start with, but Mattheo quickly grew irritated by their constant infatuation with him – especially Karkaroff who always compared him to the great Tom Riddle or the 'Dark Lord' interchangeably

Whenever Professor Moody stared at him for too long, he got an odd sensation on his left forearm, where the mark sits, like spiders were scurrying and crawling around – he decides after the very first DADA lesson (unforgivable curses) that he did not like this professor.

There was just something off about him, but Mattheo couldn't quite figure out what – foolishly tried Occlimency but obviously it didn't work on the most infamous auror

Wasn't even surprised when Harry's name came out of the Goblet – he is coined 'Saint Potter' by the friendgroup (started of course by Draco)

He and Theo snuck out to the forbidden forest to see the dragons up close before the first task – almost got caught by Charlie Weasley, had Hagrid and Harry not showed up with Madame Maxine mere moments before he could spot them

He took a random girl from Beauxbatons to the Yule Ball because he did not want to deal with the hassle of Hogwarts gossip – but everyone gossiped about it anyway (busybodies)

Rumours went around about the two of them (you know like how Snape caught two people in the carriage🤭)

At this point, you were just his arch nemesis' best friend so you were not fully on his radar past sneering comments and jibes, but a small part of him can admit that you looked beautiful in your glittering dress (think Feyre starfall dress vibes)

The rest of the year went by uneventfully – he got on with his school work and remained one of the top of class except in Ancient Runes which theo tried to tutor him in....unsuccessfully

In the months leading up to the third task, Mattheo noticed Moody's skittish behaviour (also Karkaroff and weirdly...Snape) especially after Crouch was found murdered in the Forbidden Forest after the second task

On the day of the first task, he had the worst gut feeling he's ever felt – bigger than the day he found out that his surrogate mother had died

Sitting in the stands with his friends, near the back of the stadium, his arm begins to burn so painfully that he has to fight physically crying out at the crippling pain (Voldemort just got resurrected as a noseless alien)

Excuses himself to his friends' utter confusion and concern – Theo stops Pansy from running after him, letting him have space, somehow just knowing what Matt's sudden departure meant (he saw Mattheo cradle his left arm while he walked away)

Just before Mattheo walks through the exit, Harry apparates back with the trophy (portkey) and Cedric's dead body beneath him screaming that "Voldemort's back!"

He couldn't hold back the contents of his stomach at the statement because he knew it was true. He just knew it deep in his bones.

He had to hide behind the bleachers of the quidditch pitch while everyone was stampeding to leave, where he just sobbed and sobbed because he knew then what his future would be.

Theo found him an hour later and together they mourned for the future Mattheo had desperately always wanted

That summer was the worst he's ever experienced to date.

He met this snake-like version of his father, his only other memories being of a handsome man (Tom Hughes vibes) not whatever this thing was.

His father thanked Theo Nott Senior personally for taking such good care of his heir – this was such an ego boost for that horrid man

Mattheo was tortured into the perfect soldier that summer – tasked with training other Slytherins/purebloods into the regime

Its not very discernable but if his hands are still for long enough, they begin to shake unconsciously due to just how many times Voldemort used the cruciatus curse on him

His nightmares had become a reality that summer – he no longer slept, and only ate when Draco had to force him to

There was one silver lining at least

No one believed Harry Potter.

So Voldemort's army grew exponentially in secret, as did their knowledge of certain prophecies

We know that Professor Trelawney had the vision but Voldemort has a seer of his own – who made him aware of the order being in possession of a siphon but not able to say who it is (its meadow of course🤪🤪🤪)

His fifth year marked the start of the war, even if the otherside didn't know it just yet

At school, Harry started many explosive arguments with him, that he admittedly fed into a little bit out of pure amusement

His stoic facade was ever present this year. Not an expression painted his handsome face in the public eye. Rarely did anyone catch a glimmer of joy in those onyx eyes.

It was around this time, when he discovered that Harry was being taught Occlimency that you were doing some studying of your own

He heard the soft whisper of your thoughts in his head – a pleasant sound – mumbling little bits and pieces about the art, as if you were revising them over and over like a broken record

He knew you were Theo's patrol partner because Theo would not stop complaining about having to deal with one of Saint Potter's loyal followers (the two of you did not speak for 5 whole patrol sessions – lets say between September and November)

Thats when the idea sprang

Admittedly it started out as a way to satisfy his curiosity

He wanted to know why you were learning Occlimency and actually doing surprisingly well, despite not having someone to actively practice it on/with you, while Potter was not taking it seriously at all

So he asked Theo to try and befriend you – when asked why, he explained that he was curious and wanted to know if he hunch he had was right – his gut feelings are almost never wrong

Theo begins his task of slowly befriending you and relaying anything remotely important to Mattheo – no progress at first, until the two of you happen to bond over your hatred for the new DADA professor

He joins the Inquisitorial Squad because Theo's father wanted him to, and by extension said that the Dark Lord wanted his son to set an example too (lets not forget, in his prime Tom was literally the smartest in the school – was definitely head boy as well as an academic weapon)

This is how he finds out what Umbridge's detentions truly entailed

Speaking of Umbridge (she deserves her own tw actually), she had shown particular favouritism towards Mattheo and his friends, to anyone who was against Harry, really – never gave them detentions and let them off easily, even defended Mattheo's honour against Harry's 'heinous' accusations

But back to the detentions – both he and Theo found out about the blood quill around the same time

He was waiting for Theo to finish patrols so they could go smoke in the Astronomy Tower, when he overheard Umbridge talking to the two of you

Well actually she was talking to you – because apparently it was now against the rules for prefects to walk around past curfew (even though thats their literal role?) and she gave you a detention for it

When you asked why in Merlin's name Theo wasn't being treated the same, she said it's because he's on the Inquisitorial Squad and was therefore exempt from her detentions

You had detention the next day and did not show up to your next few patrols, but Mattheo saw the hints of a glamour covering your non-dominant hand (he would know because he's had a glamour over his scarred forearm for years)

Theo told him that you refused to admit that something was wrong - you hadn't even told your friends about whatever was bothering you

They found out by chance – a first year that had gotten lost was cradling their hand and the boys saw the words of the boy's own scrawl etched harshly into the flesh of his hand

When Matt was observing you in the library one day (happenstance, he's not a stalker lol), he was deducing how far along you were with Occlimency but found that you winced and held your head when he actively tried to enter your mind – not good for how long you'd been teaching yourself the art

So he gets Theo to talk to you mentally and the first time it happens is actually comical – you drop the contents of your potions incredients onto the floor out of shock before you whack Theo across the head with your hardbacked potions textbook

That's really how the two of you became friends, your friendship with Pansy following soon after

Now you're slowly building up the tolerance for Occlimency with a little help from a friend

Leading up to Christmas, the mark burns wickedly against his skin at all hours of the day

Then Arthur Weasley is attacked and Mattheo is surprised that no Weasley has come to deck him in the face for simply being Voldemort's son

Obviously no one does because everyone (barring you and Hermione) have been swept away to 12 Grimmauld Place

After Christmas he does get decked – George sends a bludger his way that most definitely had the power to break his entire arm (and definitely a few ribs); after the abysmal Christmas break he's had, he's almost tempted to let it happen – but his beater instincts kick in and he's pelting the bludger and all its momentous energy towards one of Gryffindor's chasers instead

His Dark Mark burns every time his father fails to retrieve his and Harry's prophecy

He begins to suspect that you are the siphoner when you perform wandless magic like its a second nature during breakfast one morning (you're using your magic to flip through the pages of your book, while you leisurely sip coffee, probably awaiting Granger's arrival)

His suspicions are more than confirmed when your magic seems to literally pulse like your pulling more of it from the air – it's almost indiscernible, but if he paid attention, he could see the symphonic ripple of your magic and the Great Hall's magic mingling in the air (and he knows Dumbledore can see it too)

He explains this to Theo without telling him so much that'll get him involved with what knowing this will mean for his brother

He passes all his O.W.Ls with a plethora Outstanding and Exceeds Expectations grades, except for Ancient Runes where he gets a mere Acceptable (which somehow still allows him to retake the class in his N.E.W.Ts options, funnily enough)

What's not funny is Voldemort's reaction to this anomaly of a result :(

Lets rewind to june 18th (aka battle of department of mysteries; RIP Sirius Black you icon, you legend)

The DA have just been busted (like two weeks/a week prior to the date above) and you're all in detention writing out the line "I must not disobey the Ministry" over and over again – to the point where it has become a permanent scar that you see everyday

Exams are happening and Harry has just been delivered a vision by Voldemort (he just passed out in a DADA exam🫣)

Saint Potter and his band of followers try to break into Umbrige's office and fail exponentially

The Inquisitorial Squad catch you all in the act of guarding the corridor outside her office while Harry, Ron and Hermione try and contact Sirius

You're all trapped in the office and everyone (including the Inquisitorial Squad) is shocked when she goes to cast the cruciatus on Potter – internally Matt is cringing and fighting the instinctive flinch

"You can't do that! It's illegal!" Your defence of harry is ignored as Umbridge puts Fudge picture face down – Matt swears your eyes burn a violent indigo, but it's gone in a blink

Hermione and Harry end up taking her to where 'Dumbledore's secret weapon' is and you lot are now all stuck with the Inquisitorial Squad

Theo actually only holds you loosely, and he's the same with Ginny – not forcefully holding her, but also not allowing her to break free at the same time

Crabbe and Goyle take Ron's bate and eat the Puking Pastilles from the Weasley twins' personal collection and you all escape

Then the battle eventually takes place and everyone knows that Voldemort truly has returned

Now onto the current timeline of Serendipity!!

Mattheo decides over summer that he wants to help the otherside desperately

Especially because Draco is now a Death Eater

And Enzo and Theo are set to become Death Eaters the following Christmas – punishment for what happened during the battle in June

Proposes the idea that he teach you Occlimency in exchange for you helping them get out – the group agrees and Theo and Pansy set out to persude you to help

Roll on the Serendipity plot where he slowly begins to actually care about you (scary feelings; unknown territory)

He's never felt this strongly about someone before, not in the way he feels about you

At first he enjoyed how infuriated you became with him; he also despised how many questions you would ask (but that was your nature and he grew accustomed to it)

You're the only one whose ever called him Théo, after the death of Theo's mother, the name was as good as dead to him, until you started calling him it – he never wanted you to stop

The feelings you invoke in him are what finally allow him to produce a full patronus – when the majestic form of a Hippogriff bursts from the tip of his wand, swirling and spiralling at the thought of you, he let out a genuine laugh

He's so soft for you – his persona changes in the blink of an eye at times – from cruel and brooding to gentle and compassionate

His friends have never seen him happier – admittedly were surprised to learn of your relationship, but when they watched the way the two of you interacted after you'd become a pariah to your old friends, they understood.

Mattheo is so protective of all his friends, and somehow he's even more protective of you – he had wanted to incinerate Harry and Ron on the spot for how they'd made you feel, but knew you would never forgive him for it, despite how badly they'd hurt you

He'd burn the world down if it meant you'd be safe, especially because you had the one power that his father desired to have in his ever growing arsenal

Mattheo always has to be touching you in some way (he's a physical touch kind of guy), whether that be a hand on your thigh when you're seated; an arm wrapped around you as you walk; interlocking pinkies, etc. He just loves feeling you near him.

You're such a typical Slytherin/Ravenclaw couple – your intellect amazing him all the time, and he's no longer miffed that you always beat him for a spot at the top in class – his ambitions and adamant loyalty are something that you admire dearly, and hold close to your heart

You both know without having to voice it that your love is unconditional and eternal. Its a love as rare as your magic.

~∞~

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff

@babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony

@dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf

@devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj

@nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette

@prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl

@rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost

@weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @benwadsworthsgf

@rainy-darling @faeriepigeons

@lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff

@gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome

@nopedefe @spencerreidsthings

@navs-bhat @agent-tempest

@magimtz23 @y0urm0m12

@sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne

@whatsupb18

#serendipity series #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x you #headcannons #angst #fluff #flangst #slytherin boys #slytherin x ravenclaw

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saccharineomens · 3 months

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what’s funny about playing Elden ring, as a new person, who saw mutuals reblogging stuff about it but was unable to parse any sort of plot for the fanart, is like…

you start the game in a world with a very vague ‘this is the land after a quite brutal Be-Fuckening’ introductory cinematic. you’re told to go to The Castle. You go to The Castle and get your ass kicked at the gate, so you decide to go off and fuck around for a while.

you explore this very generic Fantasy landscape and meet a few npcs, but nowhere do you learn the massive lore or information about the (presumably important and big-name!) characters your mutuals were blogging about. You wonder, briefly, if you bought the wrong game.

After several hours spent leveling up a couple dozen times and getting some better weapons and armor, you return to The Castle. You beat the gatekeeper and start exploring the castle much like you were exploring the land outside of it. Most of the castle is pretty unremarkable, basic fantasy stuff, an evil Lord committing evil crimes against humanity. One time while exploring the battlements you trip off the wall and fall into a bottomless pit and ooOHHHHH WHATTHEFUCKISTHAT—

the pit is not bottomless. At the bottom of the pit is God, and He is dead, and His Corpse is slowly poisoning the land you walk on from the inside out, and if you spend maybe five seconds too long in His presence you will be eaten from the inside out by His Scions so badly even resurrection will not quite cure you of His touch.

you resurrect back at the top of the battlements, mentally scarred and plagued with visions of That Horrible Thing. unfortunately, you are now Hooked By The Lore, and you can’t stop playing in order to try and figure out how to solve/heal/survive the horrors, while also avoiding too much curiosity that might cause you to become them.

…I mean, I like it so far!

#Elden ring #Op #Of all the blorbos for my mutuals (and most of the fandom) to NOT fixate on. It’s that one.#Seriously I barely see content of him post-death. but maybe I’m okay with that ಠ_ಠ

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flanaganfilm · 14 days

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hello! longtime fan and fellow massachusettsan here! something that has plagued me for years is the choice for methuen to be the setting for hill house - of all the towns in MA, what made you settle on methuen? were you trying to avoid any overtly spooky history (danvers, ipswich, andover, peabody, or any of the Old Salem area)? was it more of an aim for just an unassuming real place? i'm deeply curious!

I have family in Methuen, and spent a fair amount of time there as a kid. My father was born and raised in Gloucester, and I was born in Salem, but most of my childhood visits were to my aunts and uncles in Methuen, so that felt like a good idea for this one. I didn't want to do anything that had a spooky lore to it (Salem would have eclipsed the whole show), and this felt like a good fit.

#the haunting of hill house

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captainremmington-13 · 1 month

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𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍 - 𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖎𝖓 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖞

show!Luke Castellan x daughter of thanatos!reader

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the image above or any of Rick Riordan’s characters/world-building.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: attempted murder, swearing, parental neglect, overall sad vibes

A/N : this post is to set up context for the rest of the series (i have to set up the lore so everything makes sense lmao). this is my first time writing for luke, i promise i’ll get better at it with time :))

you essentially grew up at camp, having arrived at the young age of five

monsters began creeping their way into your life ever since you learned to speak. death seemed to be drawn to you.

first was the dracanea disguised as a nanny that tried to eat you while your mother was out of the house (she was a florist that prepared bouquets for funerals). you only survived because the dracanea was interrupted by your mortal older brother. when he saw you on the ground with the nanny about to wrap her hands around your tiny throat, he screamed so loud that the dracanea fled immediately. he then called the cops on her, but she’d long since disappeared. you were only three at the time.

the final straw was when an Aeternae attacked you on the preschool playground. it lept out from the large bushes near the fence and nearly ripped your face off. you would have died if your teacher, a satyr in disguise, hadn’t scared it off.

your preschool teacher, Mr. Maciolli, escorted your to camp the next day. he had a long talk with your mother, who didn’t put up much of a fight to keep you at home. you attracted trouble that she had no time to deal with.

with that, you were uprooted from your normal life and transported into the world of the Olympian gods.

you were the youngest camper by far. the older campers took you under their wing, helping you adjust to camp life as best as they could. they gave you a wooden sword and taught you the basics of combat. they made sure to keep you away from anyone who could cause you harm. and most importantly, the many unclaimed demigods that you met while staying in Cabin 11 taught you that the gods didn’t give a flying fuck about their kids.

though it was difficult at first, you were happy. sure, you missed your mom sometimes, but you reminded yourself that she hadn’t been interested in keeping you around anyways.

your first five years at camp were relatively peaceful. you developed your personality and learned your likes and dislikes, just like any “normal” kid.

however, there were occasional incidents that were absolutely unexplainable.

the worst one of all was this: a son of ares kept throwing pebbles at you while you were supposed to be picking strawberries. no matter what you said, he wouldn’t quit. after a particularly large pebble hit you in the back of the head, you turned around and screamed “stop it!”

the kid immediately collapsed, his skin turning pale. the other campers rushed him to the infirmary, and the apollo kids immediately got to work.

they concluded that his heart had stopped. he had been dead to the world for almost a whole minute. if not for the nectar that had been poured down his throat, he probably wouldn’t have made it.

campers did their best not to anger you after that. nobody could explain what had happened, but clearly, you had caused the son of ares to have a close brush with death.

you were claimed by Thanatos, the god of death, at the age of ten.

your social life turned on its head after that.

basically everyone except for Chiron and Mr. D avoided you like you were the walking Black Plague (which you kinda were)

after getting claimed, your powers increased. you could touch a small plant and kill it instantly if you wished to. wherever you sat, the grass would wither around you. you could even kill small animals with a simple touch (only if you wished it to die).

nobody wanted to risk crossing you and getting killed. so nobody tried to get close to you. they would say the occasional “hello”, but that was it.

you grew to resent not only your father, but all of the gods. they had everything, it seemed, while you had nothing. they didn��t even have the heart to check in on their own children.

you learned to thrive without any companions. you spent your days sparring against invisible enemies, building muscle, and developing stamina. you rarely conversed with the other members of Cabin 11, staying in your bunk in the far corner of the cramped space. during your down time, you killed flowers, dried and pressed them, and used them to make collages.

things were relatively stagnant for awhile.

until you turned fourteen.

at age fourteen, luke castellan arrived at camp, and changed your life forever.

Thank you for reading! Pls let me know what you think in the comments!!! I plan on making this a series, but I’m not sure how I’m going to format it yet. Stay tuned for the first official installment!

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added to the taglist!

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson #percy series #rick riordan #pjo series #pjo tv show #charlie bushnell #demigods #percy jackon and the olympians #the lightning thief #thanatos #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x you #luke castellan series

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coffeeghoulie · 24 days

Note

If it’s possible would you be able to mix 20 and 6 together with Swiss and Phantom? If not you can choose which one you want

Thanks in advance if you come up with anything

I did my best to combine these, though I feel like you had a certain scenario in mind and I tried to follow that but my brain went "oops, Swiss angst" instead. This technically follows both my Swiss and Aeon lore from Eternal Heatstroke, but you don't need to have read that for this. Hope you enjoy!

#20: on a scar and #6: on a falling tear from this prompt list

Aeon hates when Swiss goes still. The multi-ghoul is almost constantly in a state of motion, shifting his weight, tail swaying behind him, tapping his toes or drumming his fingers. Normally, the only time he stops moving is when he's asleep, and even then he doesn't quite lay still. He's only still if he's hurting, upset and lost in thought.

The door to their room creaks, and Aeon knocks on the frame before they enter. The room is dark and they can just barely see his silhouette where he sits on the edge of the bed. "'S just me," they say as their good eye adjusts to the darkness. "Missed you today."

Swiss makes a non-committal noise, a flat hum, to acknowledge they've been heard, but he doesn't move. If it weren't for the shallow rise and fall of his breathing, Aeon could be convinced he's been traded out for one of the statues in the chapel.

Aeon chews nervously at their bottom lip, hand trembling as they start to reach out. "Swiss, can you talk to me?" they ask, voice wavering.

He still doesn't move, head in his hands. Aeon bites their lip harder, carefully making their way to his side. "Sorry bug, thought I'd've pulled myself together by now."

He'd woken up like this, quiet and withdrawn, and Aeon had done their best to cheer him up before they had to rush off to their chores. But it hadn't worked.

Aeon shakes their head, sitting down next to him; close enough that they can feel his body heat against their thigh, but far enough away that they can give him an out if he wants to take it. "If I were feeling bad," they begin softly, each word careful, "Would you want to let me sit there and pull myself together?"

Swiss looks up at that, and Aeon tries to hide their wince at just how puffy his eyes are, the pretty gold of his irises wet with unshed tears. "No, I wouldn't," he says.

"Could you just talk to me?" Aeon asks. "I- I don't like not being able to help, Swiss."

Swiss laughs wetly. "I know, buggy," he says, voice still a little distant. "I know."

Aeon doesn't say anything, just stubbornly holds Swiss's gaze, waiting for one of them to speak.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually Swiss heaves a sigh, drifting just close enough that their thighs are pressed together knee to hip. Aeon leans in, still hesitant, waiting for an adverse reaction, and rests their temple on his shoulder. "Had a weird dream, bug," he says, staring at the wall. Aeon is reminded painfully of that first heart-to-heart, all those months ago. "Pit dream."

"Oh," Aeon breathes, chuffing and trying to comfort him. They know all about Pit dreams; having been plagued with them the first few months they'd been Up Top. "Alone?"

Swiss takes a deep breath, leaning over, carefully avoiding the points of their horns as he rests his head on top of theirs. "Nah, from before I left. Birth pack shit."

Aeon hums, pressing themself closer to him comfortingly.

"It's funny, missing people who hurt you," Swiss says, his words hanging heavy in the air. "Dreamt about my mother, and my sisters, and things were good. Things were really good, and I didn't know it was a dream until I woke up this morning."

His voice cracks, and Aeon looks up, eyes wide, just as a tear races down his cheek, disappearing into his stubble.

"I really miss them," he says, voice small. Aeon shifts, grabbing his waist and turning him so he can embrace their multighoul tight, fingers carding through his braids as they guide his head down. They kiss his cheek, just over that shiny teartrack, the exact spot where, before they had gotten along, Aeon had clawed. It had been healed, leaving no trace except for both of them knowing what had happened. They kiss his cheek again, the corner of his lips, before bringing his head down to the crook of their neck.

"I know," Aeon whispers, because they do know, has been held through this exact same dilemma. Swiss greedily accepts the embrace, holding them tight around their ribs as he cries against theit neck.

"Thank you, bug," Swiss whispers, once he's cried himself out. Aeon chuffs, blunt claws scratching his scalp.

"Any time," Aeon says simply. "You did the same for me."

#dot's writing #swiss ghoul #aeon ghoul #technically not but i'm gonna tag it bc of the Lore #eternal heatstroke #(also i will not shut up about them debuting that song the night before i'm gonna be there. rude lmao)#the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #kiss prompts

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feelbokkie · 1 year

Text

🧛How he would react to you being a vampire🧛

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

genre: fluff, light the tiniest bit of angst if you squint, crack, vampire au

pov: 2nd person

description: you're a vampire and this is how each skz would react (gifs have nothing to do with the writing)

pairing: bf!skz x gn!vampire!reader

warnings: vampireism(?), swearing, suggestive, mention of blood, mention of throwing up (Jeongin), mention of necrophilia (Jisung), let me know if I missed anything

word count: 1,810

방 찬 (Bang Chan)

To be completely honest, with how pale this man is and his insomnia, you would think you're just meeting a fellow vamp

He would be glad to have someone to hang out with and to keep him company while he's working late at night

All of your dates would be at night because he doesn't want the sun to hurt you

Would 1000% sacrifice himself if it means you get to eat

You've heard a lot of music in your lifetime so he values your opinion and counts on you being brutally honest

"Reminds me of something I once heard at an Elizabethan fair." "Is that good or bad?" "The song was good but the bard was terrible. Your sounds a lot better by comparison." "It was the Elizabethan era, standards were much lower back then" "What was that?"

Avoids garlic like it's the plague

He just wants to be able to kiss you

Will watch you as you sleep if he gets the chance

Let's you sit in the background of his lives since you won't appear anyway but you have to be quiet

"'Chan, is that phone floating?' What? Don't be ridiculous, phones don't float. Why are you looking at my bed anyway, you should pay attention to me!"

Nice, very subtle

Always walks in first when you two go out so he can invite you in, just in case

Such a gentleman

Always makes sure to save you all of his photocards and mini posters so you have little mementos of him

이 민 호 (Lee Min-Ho)

Did not think that vampires were real

You hid it from him at first because for the first time in eons, you found someone who made you feel something and you didn't want to scare him off

It was going well until he tried to sneak a picture of you to send to the boys and you didn't show up

"That's weird." "What's weird?" "I tried to take a picture of you but you're not showing up." "About that..."

You stumble over your words explain how you didn't want to tell him because you didn't want to scare him away before finally admitting you were a vampire

"Why should that matter?" "W-what?" "Ah, should I start speaking formally? Y/N noona/hyung?" "Just speak casually."

He knows you can eat regular food but will offer to let you drink his blood

"You need to eat." "Min, it's fine. I can just drink animal blood." "If animal blood was enough then there wouldn't be lore about vampires preying on humans."

Tries not to make you go out in the sun, but will make sure you're covered and protected like a mom getting their baby ready for a beach day

"Will sunblock even work on you?" "I'm fine with an umbrella and long sleeves." "Eh, we'll put it on anyway."

Just wants you at your best

서 창 빈 (Seo Chang-Bin)

He would be excited

Like, you should be concerned for his well being

Just has so many questions

"Do you turn into a bat?" "No."

"We don't turn into a pile of ash in the sun. We just get weaker and easier to kill. Some people do get severe burns though. It hurts like a bitch."

"If I were to eat garlic and then made out with you, would you just die straight up?" "Actually, the garlic thing is a common misconception created by Vampires to trick humans into eating it. Garlic acts as a blood thinner so it makes the blood go down smoothly."

Would blow his mind too

"Vampires actually created welcome mats as a loophole to being invited in" "You guys are geniuses!"

"So, are your fangs like straws or they just make holes?" "Straws? No, Binnie, our teeth are not hollow."

Would be concerned that you're not getting enough nutrients after you told him that you're a vegetarian and only feed on animal blood

One time he got a pint of his own blood, you're not even sure how, and called it a "Ca-me-sun" (like Caprisun)

You didn't drink it so he wouldn't get into the habit of feeding you with his own blood (what a waste)

Will go to a butcher for you and ask for animal blood for you, gotta make sure his baby eats

황 현 진 (Hwang Hyun-Jin)

He would be terrified

Would be paranoid around you for the first few months of you two knowing each other

Convinced you're raising him for slaughter or something

Walked around with Holy Water, a cross, and a wooden stake as a precaution

He let his guard down when he saw you trying to do your hair one day

You can only do so much without a mirror

He realized that you couldn't see yourself in the mirror so he offered to do a cute hairstyle for you

You reminded him that it wouldn't matter because you couldn't see yourself anyway

💡

He did you hair and then sketched you afterwards so you could see it

"It's been so long since I've seen myself that i actually forgot what I looked like." "I can do more drawings for you if you like."

That's when you two clicked

You tried not to bug him with asking him to draw you

He doesn't mind though, he sees how happy seeing drawings of yourself made you. Happy after centuries of not know what you looked like

Would eventually have a sketchbook dedicated to you where he would also write little notes to you

And would have a few couple drawings

So that you can remember him centuries after he's gone

한 지 성 (Han Ji-Sung)

Would think it's cool

Would binge every vampire movie he could get his hand on to "learn about your culture"

"Is leech a slur?" "No, Ji, leech is not a slur."

"Does this mean I'm into necrophilia?" "Wasn't cute when I heard it in the 1800s, not cute now." "But it's a serious question. I need to know these things about myself." "I'm not a fucking corpse, but I can lay there like one if you prefer."

Stops questioning it after that

"I wonder if I taste delicious." "If that's your weird way of asking me to suck your blood, you can drop it." "What if I told you it was a kink?" "W-what?"

Found a work around with hickies

*Sighs* "I'm not turning you." "We would be a power couple!"

"I can't tell if you're looking at me like that because you're horney or hungry." "Are those two not the same?" "Excuse me?"

He got you into anime

"How have you never watched anime? You were there for the birth of it." "Shut the fuck up."

When he's anxious, he'll come to you because your cold hand calm him down

Hell, he'll come to you when he's sick or hurt and use you like an ice pack

Bastard

Despite being alone for most of your life, you really feel it when he's away on tour

이 용 복 (Lee Felix Yong-Bok)

Would absolutely love it

10/10 would want to just remake Twilight

Especially the "I know what you are" scene

"How old are you?" "20." "How long have you been 20?" "A while."

Disappointed you don't sparkle in the sun

The man tends to wear crucifixes but would take them off for you so that you don't get injured when he cuddles you

Would aggressively slap his neck and scream "Come get y'all juice!" Just like the vine

It made you chuckle

Always tries to warm you up out of habit

"So you don't have any super powers at all?" "Felix, Twilight is nowhere near the realm of being factual"

Loves hearing old stories

You two play video games together often

Bought blackout curtains just for you so you can spend the night more often

Would slowly get sad over time because he realizes that you'll be alone again someday

Tries to convince you to turn him

You have to remind him that he's an idol and it would look suspicious if all his members got old and he didn't

Tries to convince you to turn the who group

You have to tell him that being a vampire is more of a curse than a blessing

Tries to make as many memories with you as possible so you can look back at them fondly.

김 승 민 (Kim Seung-Min)

Would spend way too much time trying to kill you

Not because he thinks you're going to hunt him and go on a rampage

He just doesn't believe that vampires are real so he's just testing you

"Well, I mean, anyone would die from a wooden stake to the heart Y/N, you're not special."

Definitely invited you over to his dorm and purposely didn't invite you in to see if you would "commit to the bit"

You stayed outside for 5 whole hours

Just thought you were really stubborn

Until one day you were helping him cook and the knife slipped in a way that would have been a major injury on a mortal but was just a gaping, bloodless slice in your hand

"But I've seen you eat people food!" "I am a people!" "You know what I mean." "I can eat normal food, it just doesn't sustain me like blood does." "You don't have blood but you can still eat and digest food normally?" "I've learned not to question vampireism."

"Wait, so the other day when you gave me a hickey..." "I may have had a little taste. I couldn't help myself, you smell so good." "Just ask next time."

Is surprisingly chill with it

"Y/N, if you want to drink my blood, just ask. Stop staring at my neck vein." "Sorry. I only see it when you sing and it amazes me."

양 정 인 (Yang Jeong-In)

It'll take him a while to get used to it

"You're technically younger than me so I should speak casually. But you're also like 1,000 so I should speak formally." "Speak casually."

Will still speak formally in public out of habit, confusing onlookers because you look younger

Will ask if you know someone or if you lived experienced a certain event if you two are watching a documentary or something

You occasionally give him false information to fuck with him

What's he going to do, Google it?

"Just a little taste." "No." "What if you get a paper cut? Can I at least lick the blood?" "No!"

Refused to buy you blood because that's disgusting

"But Innie, the sun's out and I'm already weak from not feeding for 2 weeks!" "Y/N, I love you but I WILL throw up. Take my hoodie, I'll even give you money for it."

Ended up going to the butcher on his own after he watched you collapse in the sun

Threw up when he got home

Needless to say that you never asked him to get the blood again and always made sure that you had some at his dorm just in case

—

Buy me a coffee?

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heartthrobin · 8 months

Text

and i serve the fairy queen, to dew her orbs upon the green (3)

sam winchester x fairy!reader

wc: 6.7k

warnings: soulmate!au (partners share scars), fem!reader, hella pining, tooth-rotting fluff, destiel is canon, some jealous sammy, implied age gap (reader is early 20's), town (still!) being mean to reader, some shaky goblin lore, references to thick reader (everyone cheered) but can be ignored, dean being dean, canon-typical warnings (child kidnapping, violence ect.)

an: part 3 of my little fairy series! i'm sorry it took so long, uni is fighting me with both hands at the moment. but i promise the last part won't take as long :3 enjoyyyyy. remember to comment and repost to support your favourite writers :)

summary: you thought about Sam Winchester in a way that couldn't possibly be normal. but who did he think he was, walking around buying you crocodiles and sending you his jacket and looking so damn handsome all the time?

part one part two part four

Four thirty-five. Long hand brushing over the seven, short hand stretching just past the four.

You wondered if the clock was actually ticking. You could still hear it somewhere around the time the little hand was knocking up against the one, but now it was quiet.

Had your mind drowned it out or was the clock even working? It was actually only half visible against the wall of the corridor past the bars of your cell, so maybe--

There was a booming crack from somewhere down the corridor, like someone had thrown a hefty stack of papers down on a desk.

You sunk deeper into the suit jacket. It was warm, smelt of cologne, and at some point around two o' clock the smell had coaxed you off to sleep against the concrete wall.

There was a long stretch of time where you wondered if those kids out there felt the same. If their little heads were pressed against a cold hard wall, convincing themselves to sleep even if just for a while.

You wondered if they were together. You hoped they were together.

There was a tiny window in the cell. When it was still daylight you could see a tree shivering in the wind, now you could only hear it rustling.

It was an easy escape, you knew that. You could have yourself out of the cold, grey room before the long hand found the eight but ... alas. Maybe it was just better to wait it out.

Chlorokinesis. A neat little trick, but one that would have you behind bars again at another time, or tied to a wooden stake and burnt.

The latter sounded mildly more interesting than staring at the quiet clock against the wall.

But you couldn't. If not for the exposure of yourself and the risk on your livelihood, for the look on Sam's face when you proved him and his brother's doubts true. When you tore through the bar cells, whipped officers aside like chess pieces on a shaky board and proved yourself the monster at the end of town. The witch.

You sighed loudly into the cell, your hands found your face. The sleeves on the jacket were far too long for your arms and the smell of Sam surrounded you again.

God, you couldn't catch a break.

Beyond the town's cold shoulder and the unplanned arrest: Sam Winchester's face had been plaguing you since the moment you found him and his brother on your doorstep.

It was like you could feel when he grew near.

Your palms would warm, as if pressed around a warm mug, heart-rate quickening like a hare through the brush and your wings would shiver in and out of sight: quick enough to avoid the accusatory gazes of humans. They never noticed anything further than the tip of their noses anyway.

He didn't make things any better, mind you.

With his tall figure, leaving you frantically lost in his shadow, and buying you crocodiles and sending you his jacket.

The officer hadn't mentioned it was him, but you knew. If not by it's size, by it's warmth and it's smell and the way your wings pressed happily against the silky inner-stitching.

It had occurred to you that they probably still had the intention of killing you before leaving town, as the Winchester name suggested. They killed monsters, it was part of the gig.

The thought hadn't made the dips and slopes of Sam's face any easier to digest. Hadn't made the raging urge to tug him in by his collar against your lips any less.

It was so pathetic, the whole thing!

Your mother had promised you a handsome elf, or maybe a brawny satyr. That your arms would gleam with the shine of sword-swung wounds and the bites of arrows.

But you were bruised and torn with bullet holes and kitchen blades and sharp teeth.

Patience, patience, patience.

That's what they preached, humans and fairy-folk alike.

Everyone just had to wait. To be patient. They'll come along when you least expect them.

It was easy to jump, to imagine that every kind glance across the room or brush of an arm in a crowded coffee shop was the one. It was suffocating, the entire affair!

So you pulled your sleeves from your face, turning to lean your head back against the crumbly stone wall as far away as your nose could turn from the scent. Sam's scent.

You stupidly pushed Sam from your brain, like you'd done time and time before when the winter crept colder and colder each year and the yearning for a warmth crept stronger and stronger.

Instead, you pondered on your animals, in a cold room just behind your own. You could hear their yipping and whining sometimes through the wall. Your chest tightened at the sound and you'd patted away the warm tears down your face when you did.

There was another sound down the corridor. A screech. A chair scraping over the stone floors, then footsteps.

They neared until another faceless officer appeared into view. His paces jingled with a ring keys hanging at his side. You perked up at the sound.

He avoided your eyes, instead he worked to slot the key into the cell door. "Twelve hours is up. You can go."

You rose on unsteady legs, calves and thighs frozen stiff against the steel bench. "I can go?"

"'s what I said."

You nodded, tightening the jacket around your frame. You stepped past him into the fuzzy yellow light of the corridor and he handed you a manila envelope, the shape of your house keys lumped under it's wet glue seal.

"My animals?"

The man still wasn't meeting your face. "You can collect them after eight o' clock when the station opens."

Your fingers twisted between your palms.

"Okay." It came out small, tired. "Thank you."

He didn't respond, instead pointing you down the corridor.

In the foyer, the desks had been abandoned. Lights were off closer to the back of the room. You figured the guard at your cell was the only one on nightshift.

By the door was a long wooden bench, there was a man hunched over: head leaning into dinner plate sized hands.

His gaze lifted at the sound of your footsteps.

That rolling feeling of warmth rushed down your throat and between your organs again.

"Sam?"

He rose to his feet, a hand pressing his long chestnut hair out his face.

"Hey." He sighed and you neared him. Closer up, you could make out the exhaustion buzzing around his eyes. His shoulders slumped with it too.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" You laughed softly, laughter laced in confusion.

He shrugged, mouth forming around words and reshaping them a couple times before settling on: "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

The situation dawned on you, smile slipping quickly off your face and the relief you'd felt at his presence rinsed out with guilt.

"You didn't ... have you been here all night?"

Sam swiped at his mouth with one of his wide paws, he shrugged again. "Yeah, uhm, I was."

Your throat tightened at the revelation. "You ... you shouldn't have. I was just fine--"

"Yeah, in this freezing station where all these people think you kidnap children."

Lips parted in still unformed words, you watched his fidgeting hands, but he stopped you before you could say anything else.

"It's fine. I wanted to be here." His eyes were soft, sincere. "Anyways, you hungry? Want a coffee or something?"

"Uhm--"

"Actually, you probably just wanna go home ... I can call a lift--?"

"No," it came out louder than either of you had expected. Sam blinked at you. You swallowed hard. "I-- yeah, I would actually. I'm starving. I'm sure you are, too. There's a diner a few blocks down from here i-if you wanna walk?"

Sam nodded slowly.

“Yeah. That sounds good.”

Beyond the wind brushing at leaves down the sidewalk, it was quiet outside the station. There was not one other person down the foggy streetlamp-lit road.

Sam's strides were long, reaching further with each step wherein took you two of the same. His crisp white shirt shone starkly even in the low light and his tie grappled tiredly around the bend of his neck.

"So," his voice ripped your eyes from were they'd been nudging at the bottom-most button on his shirt, lingering dangerously close to the line of his belt. "What happened?"

A velvety red pressed against your cheeks. You hoped the darkness hid your quiet embarrassment.

"Uh, I was out to go check on some trees that were showing signs of sickness a few days ago." You shrugged, hands fiddling with the manila envelope. "Also, Goose needed a walk. I think he bit one of the officers."

Sam laughed at that. The sound made your throat tighten.

His head was thrown back against his shoulders, hair tickling the space between it's blades. With the angled light of the lamps, his neck became a mosaic of shadows. It's slopes and dips proving it an alter to which you'd decided you could pray at forever.

Your own laugh came out breathless, it tinkled lightly beside his.

"Don't laugh! I feel bad about it."

He shook his head. "You shouldn't."

You shrugged. Flickers of splintered memories blinked at you behind your tired lids.

The thud of officers crushing through the underbrush towards you. Goose's wild, scared yips. The burnt cloud of a cigarette suffocated beneath a boot, tossed somewhere between the fresh green blades of your front lawn.

"They were just doing their job."

Sam's eyes found you, you could feel his gaze warming the side of your face, but he didn't answer. Instead he ran a hand up his forearm, then down again.

Your eyes widened, "Oh--oh, I'm so rude ..."

Beneath the stronghold of it's thick weight against your shoulders, you'd abandoned the memory of Sam's jacket over your frame. You went to shrug it off.

"You must be freezing, I didn't even say thank you--"

You'd stalled to a pause, sleeves halfway down your arms, when two warm palms closed over your shoulders. They sent a sharp, blistering shudder through every molecule in your body.

There was a loud tinkle and your shimmering pair of opalescent wings popped into view. They glowed faintly in the dark space.

Sam's eyes flew open widely, his hands pulled back suddenly as if you'd burnt him.

"I'm ... sorry," he shook his head. "I w-was just ... gonna say that y-you should keep it on. You're gonna freeze in that tiny little dress."

You watched where his eyes struggled to part from the shining protrusions behind your head. You turned over his sharp features in your mind carefully.

"Thank you."

He nodded, gaze flickering between your wings and your face.

The warmth of your palm sunk into your fingers where you wrung them out.

"You can touch them, if you want?"

Sam's eyebrows flew into his hairline, his mouth opened ... there was an almost no, that's okay forming on his lips, you were sure you saw it, but instead he nodded.

"Yeah ... I do."

You nodded too, slipping the jacket to bunch just over your wrists so the wings could stretch comfortably out past your frame.

Sam stepped impossibly close, bringing you nose to nose with his endless expanse of chest. It was warm there.

A long arm stretched over your frame. It was unthinkable to resist the view from under Sam's jaw. Your eyes meandered up his shoulder, over his neck to watch his shallow breaths, his furrowed brow and the tentativeness in his shifting.

You felt when his fingertips met the wings, if not informed by Sam's sharp intake of breath.

"Someone told me once that it feels like dipping your hand into warm water."

His eyes glanced down to where you were tucked beneath his arm, considering the suggestion. You could feel his palm run from the pointed edge down towards your shoulder blade.

"That's ... that's pretty accurate."

He retracted his hand, but he lingered. His lashes grazed his cheek where he looked down at you.

"They're pretty." He said quietly. A secret.

His eyes flickered around your face, nervous in their pursuit of somewhere to rest.

If you just leaned on the tips of your toes, if you just tugged lightly down on the end of that already tempting tie ...

You shook your head, gathering the willpower to break your gaze: bringing it to the space between your feet.

"Let's go. It's just down the next block." Quiet in return. Another secret, but a promise. A promise of maybe we can come to this again.

The diner was just a little further. The Frothy Mug.

It had been one of your first stops when you'd moved to town, almost three years ago. Most mornings since then, too.

But it had been weeks since you'd come in. Almost seven, the same week Georgia Abbott was snatched out from her back yard. The day you became the monster under their beds.

The walkway up the steps were damp, slippery with early forming ice. Sam's hand was at your back. You smiled into your chest.

There was a jingle where Sam pushed the door open, gesturing you ahead of him. The starchy light was comfortable in it's familiarity, painful in that way too.

The Frothy Mug was barren beyond a single man perched at the bar-top with a mug between his hands, eyes tired beneath a trucker hat. He waved vaguely at your passing figures.

Behind the counter, a ruggedly feminine voice called out through the kitchen window, "be with y'all in a sec!"

Shifting awkwardly, still draped in the quilt of Sam's jacket, into the booth: he chuckled softly at you.

"Hey, not my fault you're the size of a juvenile sasquatch." You shrugged.

"I didn't say anything."

"Actually," You went to correct yourself. "Maybe more pre-teen. You're not that big."

Sam frowned for a second. His head tilted.

"Bigfoot ..." Brow knotted again, "He's not ... not real, is he?"

You patted down the front of your dress over your legs, "They. It's a species, and of course they are."

There was a long moment of silence. Sam's gaze drifted off into the distance, it took a long moment before he shrugged. "Okay."

"It's a wonder how surprised you guys are with these things: fairies and bigfoots and forestfolk, considering how much you've probably already seen."

"Sorry y'all," Two thin menus slid abruptly onto the shining grey surface, a thin, dirty blonde woman hovered over the table. "Can I get some coffees, so long--?"

The woman's eyes found you. Her posture stiffened and her face whitened as if visited by a spectre.

There it was again. That same icy liquid dripping down the back of your throat when they looked at you like that. When the sheriff had slapped a pair of handcuffs on you and thrown you in the backseat of a cop car.

"Mornin'," Sam spoke first. "Yeah, I'll have a black coffee. And ..."

His hand motioned over you, eyes imploring.

"Uhm," you could make out the scowl deepening in her features, you purposefully met Sam's face. "I'll have a tea. With milk and sugar, please?"

"No tea." It was sharp and you flinched like she'd stung you.

"Oh," you nudged the menu closer to you. "A hot chocolate?"

The woman, Teresa, sighed: eyes raking over your figure. You recognised her from when you'd still come through.

"No hot chocolate."

You sighed, teasing the worn corner of the menu with your cold fingertips. "I'll-- just some water then. Please."

But Teresa hadn't moved. Eyes burning into the side of your face where you were working hard to hold a neutral expression, focusing on your lap. She snatched the menus unceremoniously off the metal table.

Sam hadn't noticed anything in the first few seconds, but he was quickly starting to do the math.

The little space between his eyebrows was crumpling like it did when he was growing annoyed. His eyes were warming too, irritation watering in the corners.

"Is there a problem here?"

But Teresa's eyes hadn't left you. "You have some nerve walking in here. You should have skipped town a long time ago, and taken that zoo with you."

Your shoulders deflated, not distinctly surprised, but rather wearied.

"I'm sorry you feel that way." It was all you said, not meeting her eye.

"Right." Sam was already shuffling out the booth. He all but shoved the woman out the way to your side of the booth, he stuck his hand out for you to take. "We're leaving."

Without another thought, as if on instinct, you reached your hand to mould into his own. He nudged you gently out the booth past the woman who scathed at your retreating figures.

"And don't come back!"

The door met the frame with a crack where Sam had slammed it.

He huffed out into the cold, and your brain was buzzing with his hand is so warm, his hand is so warm, his hand is so--

Cold nipped again at the edges of your dress. You sighed. "I'm sorry."

His hair flicked wildly over his shoulder where his head snapped to find yours. Incredulity pressed deep into his frown lines.

"You're sorry?" He huffed, blowing a strand of hair from his forehead.

Your hand tightened against his, you didn't mean to, but you did feel bad.

"Yeah, now we can't get breakfast. It's the only place in town open this early."

"Fuck breakfast!"

"Sam?" A small, confused laugh punctuated his outburst.

"That woman was horrible. Do you get this everywhere? I mean, it's the third time I've seen it and I've barely been in town a week. Do you?"

Your chuckle dissolved when you found his face looming, again too close for the wires in your brain to transport messages efficiently. Anger dripped off his features.

The question lingered.

"Yeah." You nodded. "I do."

"And you just take it?"

That picked at a nerve between your brows. "I don't just take it. I choose to be kind, rather than stoop to their level."

Sam's head shook again, confusion dripped off him still. "Why?"

You sighed, he was puffing like an angry dog.

"Kindness will take you farther."

The words settled into the air. The tension in Sam's face ebbed slowly. He was facing you completely again.

"I read it somewhere a long time ago. Stuck with it since."

A warmth settled in your stomach when his thumb started brushing over the side of your palm where your conjoined hands still hung between his hip and yours. He nodded, then sighed.

"Okay. What you wanna do now?"

You shrugged, huffing loudly and allowing yourself to slump against his side in a move your mind made before cowardice could stop you.

"God, this is a lot of decision-making for one night."

Sam laughed. He looked so pretty in the light still reflecting through the grainy diner walls.

"Right." He said. "How about I'll walk you home and you can get some proper rest under a toadstool or wherever it is you fairies sleep."

A velvety blush warmed at your cheeks.

"Sasquatch." You mumbled. Sam smiled again.

Your hands were still connected you noticed. Sam must have followed your eyes.

"I can let go if you want?"

"Nope."

So you walked like that with him.

Your house was more than a couple blocks, too far to walk on a normal day but it was nearly five in the morning: you were falling in love with a monster hunter and you'd just spent the night in a jail cell. A less than regular night if you'd ever had one, and the hour called for such spontaneity.

"So how does a fai-- a dryad end up in a town like this?" He asked, arm still swaying slightly with your own against his side.

A lone car tossed a long shadow down the empty road. It passed noisily.

"I don't know. A bit of roaming combined with youthful curiosity, I guess. I jumped state to state after college--"

"You went to college?"

You laughed loudly, face screwed up in light offence. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Sam raised his free hand in surrender, he was laughing too, "I didn't mean you, I just never thought--"

"What, you don't think fairies go to college?" Your shoulder shifted warmly against his side. "Our heads are just filled with pixie dust or something?"

He shook his head. "Hey, you're the first fairy I've ever met. Can you cut me some slack? A week ago I didn't even know you existed."

"Humans." You huffed. "You're all so ignorant. What's your first impression of me then? Do I live up to what you thought a fairy might be like?"

His eyes brushed over your face, considering you. He nodded. "Yeah. A lot actually."

"That so?" Your arms crossed over your chest, bumping him as you walked. "How?"

"Plenty of ways."

"Like?"

"The tree stuff, and the animals, and the wings of course--"

"Can't forget the wings."

"--And the sparkly clothes and the crystals and stuff."

You nodded. "That it?"

"And you're really pretty. Like how they are in the books and the movies." He shrugged, eyes out on the road ahead like he hadn't turned your stomach to molten lava with how he was tossing his words out so absent-mindedly. "Like, beautiful."

"Oh. Well that's good, I suppose,"

Your brain had gone muddy: a gooey, sticky, melted mess that could come dripping out your ears at any moment soon.

"And what about me? I'm sure I'm not the first hunter you've met, but still ... thoughts?"

You smiled, gathering what braincells still had the motivation to carry on.

"You're nice."

"Nice?" He laughed.

You nodded, "Yeah. The last time I had an encounter with a hunter I left with an arrow through my shoulder."

His eyebrows jumped. "Wow."

"And you're sweeter. Taller too." You shrugged, feeling his gaze flicker over you. "Fantastic hair."

His head ducked, like he was blushing. You hoped he was.

"Not any steep competition, from what I'm gathering."

You shrugged. "You win some you lose some."

"Anyways, you were telling me about college before I rudely projected my fairy prejudices on you." His free hand slipped into his pant pocket.

"I had fun. The drinking, the partying, the taste of freedom."

"What'd you study?"

A loud giggle erupted from you. "I'll give you three guesses."

Another cold rush of wind charged between you, he shivered.

"Don't tell me, not the plants?"

"The plants exactly!"

His footing stumbled between his laughter. "Right, right. How could I imagine anything else."

"Botany, actually. Some work in zoology, animals, but plants mostly."

You tugged at his hand, nudging him down a shorter road in the direction of your house.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Loved it." You nodded. "What about you, do monster hunters go to college? Or do you guys have a special school for stabbing werewolves and setting fire to corpses?"

"Yeah, yeah. Very funny." His thumb had taken to rubbing circles against the back of your hand. "I did actually. Go to college, I mean. Law school. Never finished though."

Something shadowy passed over his features. You frowned.

"Oh, that's too bad. Why didn't you finish?"

His shoulders slumped, he sighed loudly.

"My girlfriend ... she was, uh, killed by a demon. Kind of got caught up with getting revenge, and then I was sucked back into hunting. Haven't stopped since."

Your breath caught in your throat. It lodged there like a stone.

"I-I'm so sorry to hear that." Maybe it was involuntary, but your hand squeezed against his. It squeezed back.

"It's okay. Happened a long time ago."

A question shuffled nervously to the edge of your tongue.

"Was ... was she your--" you shoulders twitched up against the lining of Sam's jacket that suddenly felt misplaced over your body. "--your other?"

His head shot in your direction as if he’d been electrocuted. “Oh, no, no … just my girlfriend at the time.”

You suddenly felt bad for asking.

“Oh.”

In the distance, a streetlamp revealed the little sliver of sidewalk in front of your house. It drew nearer and the conversation stalled to silence.

Sam was still holding your hand, you remembered blithely.

The sky had also turned a deep purple, threatening to spill into dawn.

You sighed up at it.

“The sky looks so beautiful at this time.”

Sam’s eyes darted between your face and the heavens. “Yeah, it does. I‘ve never really been up to see it.”

Your little patch of the world came passing under your feet. The dewy grass crunched beneath your shoes.

He walked you all the way to the door. His little yawn against his collar didn’t go amiss on you.

“You didn’t have to stay all night, you know?”

Two sets of feet padded up your porch steps. Sam shook his head.

“Of course I did.”

“To make sure I was okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

You twisted to meet his face, the one perched on the head that loomed so far above you.

“I’m stronger than I look, Winchester.”

His eyes sparkled in the low light. “Oh I have no doubts about that.”

You smiled, pressing a gentle thumb against the side of his hand.

“You’re a good person, Sam Winchester.”

With a weary hand, he rubbed a spot behind his neck. “The way you say it almost makes it sound true.”

Your head cocked, almost resting on one shoulder. “Trust me. I have a feel for these things.”

“You make me want to be a good person.”

It hung in the air for a moment. A long moment.

You pulled your hand from his softly, raising it to brush a finger over his cheek just once before dropping it back to your side.

“Goodnight Sam.”

The door clicked open under the key’s persuasion.

“Goodnight.”

It clicked again gently shut.

When morning came, after sleep had long evaded you in the absence of the warmth Goose normally provided from a spot at the base of your bed, you came to find eight metal crates packed neatly on your doormat.

Your animals keened happily at you from within their confines.

Attached to the side of one of the cages was the police release form. At the bottom of the drawling document was a haphazard signature, a sprawling handwriting that you could just make out to read Samuel Winchester.

"So now what?"

Sam slugged back the last of his already cold coffee out the cardboard cup.

Dean was watching him from the side of his eye.

"I guess we go in, see what we can find." Sam shrugged. "The lore's been pretty less than helpful."

Out the front window of the Impala loomed an open stretch of forest, an entryway a little further out of town where they could avoid the prying eyes of nosy residents.

Sam rubbed the back of his fists against his eyes, he yawned.

"You sure you ready to head out there, cowboy? You barely got any sleep."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam nodded. "I'm fine."

Maybe it was a fib. He was exhausted.

He'd only gotten back to the motel around five and barely slept two hours before slipping back out to the police station to make opening time at eight o' clock. Sam figured you deserved the sleep more than he did, electing to unburden you of the humiliation of walking back in there to fetch your animals.

To face more of the unsettling stares and scathing remarks. The whole thing made his skin prickle with anger.

"Whatever you say, Sammy."

Dean tugged his jacket tighter over his chest as they climbed out the side of the car and Sam felt the outline of his blade against his thigh.

The lore on killing goblins had been foggy, but Sam figured it was hard to go wrong with a silver blade.

Loud crunching echoed their every step past the outer line of trees. An eery air settled over where the brothers walked.

"What exactly are we looking for?"

Sam shook his head, overtly wary of his surroundings: half convinced something was moments from leaping out at them.

"Anything that looks out of the ordinary."

They walked for what only could have been hours. Through the thicket of the trees above, it was hard to keep track of the sun. Rather the forest air was draped in a cool shade that made the autumn air even colder.

There were times where they split up, not far apart, but enough to cover more ground. Dean jumped every once in a while over an ambitious tree frog or a wandering deer, but more than that, the search was proving fruitless.

Sam paused for a moment, Dean huffed beside him and by then the sun was leering far enough over the hill that the forest was dipping into early evening darkness.

"Hey man," Dean sighed, leaning his leg up on a log. "Maybe we're looking in the wrong direction. Maybe dad was wrong, thought it was something to do with--"

A beam of light was peaking through the canopy. Specks of moonlight where it was slowly replacing the sun in the sky.

"Dean."

The misty light was shining against the wood of a tall oak that loomed just a way out of their reach. Deep scars etched into it's side, scars that were glowing under the moon's gaze.

Dean found it too.

They moved in unison towards it. The creatures of the forest chirped loudly where they neared.

The shining wounds formed a triangulated symbol, sharp like edges of teeth, surrounded by a skewed circle.

"You ever seen anything like that?" Dean's voice broke through the music of the forest.

Sam shook his head, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and captured a photo. "Nope."

They watched it for a moment.

"Well," Dean yielded. "Guess now we got something to work with. It's getting dark, let's get the hell out of here."

Hours around the desk proved fruitless. Sam had even bargained a trip to the local library, scrounged around in the local lore to come up empty handed.

Noon sun blazed through the open window, nudging against the curtain. Dean tipped back the sweating beer bottle before knocking it down against the desk.

"Nothing I've ever laid my eyes on, sorry to tell you."

Sam groaned against the phone. He nodded as if Garth could see.

"Right. Thanks again, Garth."

"Adios muchacho."

Dean's eyes followed where he killed the line and set the phone against the desk. "Nada?"

"Nada." Sam confirmed.

Shoving his chair back noisily, Dean stretched his legs out with a whine. "Well, you know ... there is someone who might know a little something about this."

Sam leaned his arms over his head, they cracked from the tension of working against the laptop. He could already smell his brother's next words.

"Let me guess."

"Tinkerbell, that's right."

Sam's lips pursed. He pretended to consider his brother's suggestion, as if he wasn't keening for your presence. Like he wasn't constantly engulfed by the gnawing urge to be at your side every single second like how he craved to breath air.

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"I knew you'd think so too."

The Bloom Box.

It was a cramped little shop, squeezed into a tight spot between the laundromat and a pharmacy on main street. Pale faded pink painted brick shimmered in the afternoon glare.

"Well. Can't stay she doesn't stay on brand."

Dean's comment was the last thought that lingered before being swept abruptly from the front of Sam's mind when the little bell over the door jingled jovially.

White orchards twinkled at him from over a marble counter. Pink roses, orange tulips and purple lilies gleamed too. The inside was impossibly more pink than the face of the shop: it made Sam's head hurt.

A heavy waft of the botanicals rushed over his face and up his nostrils.

There was a hum of a heater in the far corner. Your laugh cut through the sound.

In between the glitter and mosaic of the petals, your frame melded between the colours.

You stood behind the counter, head tossed back between your shoulders with your hair up out of your face. He couldn't help notice then, with hair no longer obstructing the view, that your ears held a pointed edge. Not too noticeable, but enough that Sam squinted in surprise.

More than your ears, Sam had noticed the figure beside you. Lanky, young - closer to your own age than himself - with dreads tied back in a bun over his head.

Clearly he'd just said something hilarious, because he was laughing beside you.

"I told you he'd do that!" Your melodic voice bounced around the room.

"I couldn't resist." The man responded, elbow leaned over the counter and far too close to your shining face for Sam's liking.

An uncomfortable itch was forming in the base of his stomach. A green-eyed monster shaped itch.

Dean marched on ahead, interrupting your conversation.

"Hey Tink." He started.

Your eyes found the brothers, straightening up as you noticed. "Hey guys!"

Sam's feet were moving towards you before they'd even been instructed.

"What brings you in?" You pressed down over your apron, some soil stains leaked over it. Underneath you were wearing another frilly skirt, longer this time: all the way to your calves beyond the counter, and another crochet top. Earthy brown. "Can I interest you in some tulips, they arrived this morning?"

The man was watching Sam, he was watching back.

You noticed the exchange.

"Oh, this is Tony." You motioned up to his figure. "We work together ... obviously."

Sam nodded briefly, Dean did the same.

"Not here for the tulips, princess. Can we have a word?"

You fiddled with the ring around your middle finger. "Sure ... uh, Tony would you give us a sec?"

But Tony seemed unconvinced, purveying Sam and Dean with hooded eyes. "You sure, love?"

Love.

"Yeah, she's sure." The words fell off Sam's tongue before he had time to catch them.

Tony all but glared at him.

Your hand found his arm, Sam watched it unfold with the eyes of a trained dog. "Yeah, yeah. They're friends."

The boy nodded slowly, sending a wavering glance over Sam and Dean. "Sure. I'll be in the office if ya need."

He disappeared beyond a door into the back of the shop.

"We found some symbols in the forest," Dean started as soon as Tony was out of earshot. "Haven't been able to find much on it, thought you might know something."

You nodded, "Sure."

Sam slipped his phone out his khaki jacket, his outfit unusually casual when it came to his meetings with you.

He set the phone down gently in front of you.

You pulled it closer, raking over the pixelated image that only barely captured the shape of the wounds in the tree in the darkness of the night.

The breath you sucked in was loud.

"Look familiar?" Dean pressed.

With another shuddering breath you nodded again. "Goblins."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. A quiet I told you so.

"There should be four ..." you continued, zooming in on the photo.

"Four?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, four trees like this ... at least there should be. I haven't seen anything like this in real life, it's just stuff I learnt from knowledge passed down." The heater whined into the space between your words. "They each face a certain direction. If you find the point in the exact centre of the four trees, you've found the entrance. It should be like an underground cave from what I know."

Dean clapped his hands together in small victory, turning to Sam. "Great, we can head there now. Be done before sun down."

But you cut him off before Sam could, "Uhm, not exactly. These markings are only visible under moonlight, as is the entrance to their caves. You're gonna have to go looking after dark if you want to find anything."

Dean deflated. "Awesome."

"You think that goblins took those kids?" You asked finally, concern tightening at your brow.

"Well, if it's not you, that's our next best guess."

You rapped your nails against the counter in thought. Sam made out a tiny scratch against the side of your finger, one you'd made probably handling thorny roses. The same mark he'd noticed against his own finger while brushing his teeth that morning.

"If you decide otherwise, be sure to give me a heads up." Your face morphed into a grin, playing along with Dean's narrative.

Sam took his phone back where you held it out to him. "Well, uh, thanks."

"Please," you shook your head. "It's the least I could do after your little drop off yesterday morning. I never got to thank you for that."

Smiling slightly now, Sam shook you off.

"I didn't want you to have to go back there with those assholes."

"Well," you leaned closer over the counter, blinking up at him with eyes that could burn through steel, "Thank you. I appreciated it. Lydia too, poor thing's been hiding under the couch since."

The memory of the three-foot snake seemed to reappear to Dean. He shivered.

"I'll, uh, meet you out by the car." He muttered under his breath, "Thanks again, Tink."

You waved at him as he passed. "Of course."

The door jingled behind him.

"So," Sam's hands sunk into his pant pockets. He flicked his head up to where your co-worker had disappeared behind the door. "Tony, huh?"

Laughing you shook your head. "Uh, no. He's really sweet though. Maybe one of these days I'll give it a shot, but not now."

Sam's fists tightened, your reply bugged him.

"No time like the present." He didn't know why he was still talking, why he was mentioning it at all.

He had every right to open his mouth and tell you the truth, get your mind off Tony and any man or woman who ever came near you again.

"No, no." You chuckled softly, but it trailed off. "Kind of got this crush that I need to sort out first."

Sam sucked in a sharp breath. His feet twitched, shifting his weight.

"A crush?"

You nodded. "Yeah it's super pathetic, but he's leaving town soon. So I'll get over it. Hopefully."

A warm spongy feeling was replacing the scathing jealousy in Sam's chest.

"He's an idiot, I'm sure, if you think it's pathetic." He played along, hoping to any God listening that he wasn't reading you wrong.

"Not at all." You shook your head, eyes never leaving his. "He's actually very sweet. S'been swooping in to save me more times than I can count over the last week. Ridiculously handsome too which doesn't help the fact."

Sam was sure you could see the birds flying over his head and where he was sure his pupils had turned to hearts.

Sizzling embers warmed his insides at the sight of you, the prettiest thing between the flowers. Of how you blended so perfectly into the beauty of the world, so soft and beyond lovely and some divine power decided that he deserved it.

That you were crafted for him, as he was for you.

He felt a lick of shame in that, how you drew the short string with the mess of the man across from you.

It pushed him to respond. He forwent indulging more of your teasing.

"Can I come say goodbye tonight?" His voice was soft. "Once I'm done? I do still owe you breakfast."

A teasing grin plucked at your face again. "What makes you think I'll let you stick around 'till breakfast?"

He sighed, blushing at the insinuation. "Well, unless you'd rather have your crush come by? So I can see who's causing you all this trouble."

You shook your head. "I'll see you later then, hunter."

"You can count on it, fairy."

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