hiiie im here! you may have known me as 'thelilfae', but im feylingblooms now, and i have a new sona! i go by lily and use she/her
â˘Ëâ
i actually started writing my very first gt fic/story aswell! it will have personal lore and some characters i like, ill be chipping away at it slowly and releasing it one day yayyy
heres some art for now!
oh and a rendered piece, the reference i used is from @tiny-traps
A/N: so its been a while. I took some time away from writing, as I was having trouble and still am. I have ideas but am struggling to write them out.
But I managed to get this out. Sorry if its not that good. Yet its a start of getting back into writing.
Requests are open, and may help me đ
Summary: eavesdropping, a somewhat innocent game and one friend helping two people.
Warning/s: ooc, cuteness (?), the word shag, possible spelling/grammar mistakes
It was late afternoon, not yet the evening. Those few hours between end of classes and dinner in the Great Hall. Moments of freedom, to do as one pleases. Many students took the opportunity to hang out with friends and relax, while others studied or worked on homework. Maybe a mix of both.
Mattheo Riddle, bless him, had tried to study. But his concentration faltered within twenty minutes, while Draco and Lorenzo continued on. Theodore only had to open a textbook and he was already done, ditching his mates.
Of course Mattheo sat there for a while. Quill in hand, doodling on his parchment. He was a little restless, and bored. Eventually getting up and wondering the rows of books. Watching other students, commenting in his head about them, or using his wand to mess with them.
But then he heard voices, familiar female voices. He crept over to a shelf of books, parting them to look at the group situated in the back of the library. Sitting there was Pansy, Tracy, Millicent and you.
The moment his eyes landed on you they softened, even sporting heart eyes if this was a comic. Mattheo was smitten with you, crushing hard. Stumbling over his words and feet when in your presences, which was not normal for him. And why Theodore makes fun of every time youâve been around.
None the wiser of the addition to your group, you and your friends continued to work and talk. The topic had been on various students or teachers from the day. Airing frustrations and observations, with some added witty comments about appearance or intelligence, ending with quiet laughing.
âHow about a game? To make this homework bearable!â Sighed Pansy.
You and the other two agreed, feeling the same as her.
âHow about...â Pansy said slowly, glancing around the small area.
Mattheo quickly moved out of sight, in case the girlâs eyes were able to spot him glancing between the books.
When Pansy's gaze was once more on the girls, she smiled wickedly. âHow about shag, kiss, kill!â
âAh, I think its shag, kiss, marryâ stated Tracy.
âNo. Its kiss, marry, killâ retorted Millicent.
Pansy laughed that high pitch, airy laugh. âTheyâre all correct. Just depends on the party and their preference".
You all looked around at each other, then some back on forth on which version to play. Ultimately, with some quiet arguing from Pansy, you all went with her version.
âI was the one to suggest the game!â was the main reason she gave and argued about.
âAlright...who's first?â Asked Tracy slowly.
âPansy!â Millicent said quickly, before said girl could volunteer her or any of the others.
Pansy shot her a dirty look, but wasnât going to back down. âFine. Who are the three I have to pick from?â She paused, then added quickly, âyou each pick a name!â
You laughed, knowing if either Tracy or Millicent were to pick all three names, theyâd pick the worst guys.
âFine, fine" waved Tracy. âHmm... Dean Thomas".
Next was Millicent. âRon Weasly".
And then you. â...Blaiseâ.
You know she had hopped for Draco, but you couldnât be that kind. Yet, Blaise was a better option then the other two on offer.
Mattheo, having returned to his viewing spot, could see the annoyance on Pansy's face from her choices. And he silently couldnât wait to hear which she would shag, kiss, kill. But he had notice you were being merciful with your choice.
You all snickered at her response. Very happy with her answers. From there Pansy picked Millicent. Who was given Harry Potter, Crabbe and Goyle. And upsetting her.
âShag Potter, kiss... Goyle. Kill Crabbe" Millicent huffed, while you and the other girls laughed.
Even Mattheo had to hide his snicker.
Next up was Tracy. Her choices were Lorenzo, Seamus Finnigan and Michael Corner.
âEasy" she laughed. âShag Lorenzo. Kiss Michael. Kill Seamus".
That was the lacklustre round. Even Mattheo knew it. But now it was your turn, which had Mattheo on edge. Who would the girls pick for you? Would one of them be him? If so, what would you pick for him? But then, if he wasnât an option, the idea made him want to punch someone...
â(Y/N), your turn!â Came an excited Pansy, to excited Mattheo noted.
Unfortunately he didnât notice said girl glancing the bookshelf, or the space he was looking through. Pansy knew. She always did. But no one around were the wiser.
âBut I think for you, we should do it differently" Pansy added with a grin.
Both Millicent and Tracy protested, but Pansy shot them down. Knowing she was currently playing match maker between both Slytherin's, because you and Mattheo were absolutely hopeless.
âI decided to change it, get over it! Now... for you (Y/N), it will be kiss, marry, kill...â
You rolled your eyes but felt uneasy. âA-alright...â
âTheodore!â Tracy said suddenly, starting the choices.
Millicent laughed. âDraco".
Pansy glared at Millicent for that one. But then shot you a smug look, âMattheo...â
You froze. Of course she would pick the one guy you have a crush on. Your jaw tightened as you gave her a look. And in turn Pansy just grinned wider.
âWell?â Encouraged Pansy, âyour answers?â
You had been backed into a corner. Two out of three choices would give them the idea you liked those guys, or confirm your crush on Mattheo. But then if you picked to kill him, it was also a possible give away. So damned if you do, and damned if you donât.
All the while, Mattheo had listened and heard his name. Now he gripped the shelf and books, waiting in anticipation for your answer. He swallowed, hoping to hear what he wanted to hear...
âFine...â you sighed, staying poised. âYou want my answer... Kiss Draco. Marry... Mattheo. Kill Theodore. Happy?â
Pansy was ecstatic, knowing the eavesdropper would have heard. âPeachy" she said with a chuckle. And the games went on, getting more ridiculous with studentâs names.
Mattheo was left frozen on the spot. Grip loosening, tension leaving his body. You had said you would marry him. This had to be some kind of confirmation, right?
Soon it was time to get ready for dinner. You and the girls packed up and were leaving. Only Pansy hung back, saying sheâd catch up. And once they were gone, she looked to the bookshelf.
âAlright, come out Mattheo" she said all knowingly.
Reluctantly he came out, rubbing the back of my neck. âHow long did you know I was there?â
Pansy just grinned. âJust before I said about playing a game. I saw the books move around, but didnât know it was you till Millicentâs round...â
He laughed. âOf course...â
Pansy leant against the back of her chair. âWell, now what?â
Mattheo looked at her confused.
She sighed. âOh seriously! What are you going to do about (Y/N)?â
Surprise crossed the boys face, âh-huh?â
Pansy rolled her eyes. âDonât play dumb. I know you like her! Youâre a bumbling mess, even when she just walks past!â
Mattheo could feel his face warming up. âA-am not!â he protested, but he knew it was pointless.
âReally?â Pansy retorted, sharp look on her face. âYou fumbled and ended up in the lake that one time. Not to mention fell off your broom-â
âA-alright, alright!â He huffed in annoyance, âyou made your point...but a game doesnât prove anything".
Her grin widened. âWell, no... but I know for a fact that (Y/N) has a massive crush on you. Why do you think she walks past you so much? Even when itâs not always the direction she has to go...â
With that, Pansy picked up her bag and left Mattheo standing there. Now learning new information about you. Slowly it ticked over in his brain. And adding up, dots connecting.
â(Y/N)... likes me?â His eyes widen, (Y/N) likes me!â
And that was how one friend and a game helped you and Mattheo out. Only, you didnât know it... yet.
Iâd always considered touch a transaction. A dominance play. A means to an end. It was either a threat, a manipulation, or the messy predecessor to something equally transactional. So when Y/N first started, it threw me off-kilter.
Her hand, warm and surprisingly soft, would brush mine as we walked through the corridors, not grasping, just a light, lingering contact. Sometimes, when she was explaining some ridiculous Herbology concept I barely cared for, her fingers would lightly tap my arm for emphasis, then just⌠stay there for a moment too long. In the library, if I was hunched over a particularly irritating passage, sheâd lean against my shoulder, a quiet weight, her breath warm on my neck.
My first instinct, always, was suspicion. What did she want? Was this some new, insidious form of manipulation, a subtle way to disarm me before a request, or a criticism, or a demand for my attention? Iâd brace myself, my muscles tensing, ready to shrug her off, ready for the shoe to drop. But it never did. There was never an immediate follow-up, no hidden motive revealed. Sheâd just⌠be.
Sometimes Iâd pull away, subtle enough not to seem overtly rude, but sheâd never react with anger or hurt. Just a quiet understanding in her eyes, a small, knowing smile that made me feel oddly exposed. Other times, Iâd let her. Let her fingers trace patterns on my forearm while we shared a mug of too-sweet hot chocolate. Let her head remain on my shoulder, its gentle weight pressing down, surprisingly grounding.
The strangest part wasnât the touch itself, but the lack of expectation. The utter absence of a demand. I was Mattheo Riddle. People either feared me, desired something from me, or both. Y/N seemed to do neither. Her touches felt⌠gratuitous. Unnecessary. Yet, when she wasnât around, or when she hadnât touched me for a while, I found myself noticing the absence. A subtle, unfamiliar ache in my chest, a prickle of something akin to disappointment. It was maddening.
It came to a head one particularly infuriating evening. I was holed up in our shared common room, pacing, a dark cloud of frustration emanating from me. Professor Binns had given us an essay that was less history, more an exercise in psychological torment, and a group of first-years had just managed to set off a particularly noxious stink bomb near my usual armchair. Every nerve ending was frayed, every thought laced with venom.
Y/N found me by the window, staring out at the stormy Black Lake, my fists clenched. I heard her approach, felt the slight shift in the air as she drew near. I tensed, ready to snap, ready to unleash the storm brewing inside me onto whoever dared intrude.
Then, her hands, warm and soft and familiar, settled on my shoulders. Not grasping, not pressing, just resting there. A light, comforting pressure. My shoulders, which had been hunched and rigid, subtly relaxed under her touch, despite myself. I waited for the inevitable. The sympathetic question, the gentle prodding, the suggestion that I take a deep breath. Something, anything, that would give me a reason to swat her away, to lash out.
But nothing came. Only the soft, steady rhythm of her breathing near my ear.
Slowly, I turned my head, just enough to catch her profile. Her gaze was fixed on the lake, mirroring mine. There was no pity in her eyes, no fear, no agenda. Just a quiet, understanding presence. Then, she shifted her gaze to me, her eyes meeting mine. In them, I saw an ocean of patience, a well of genuine, uncomplicated concern. And a small, soft smile, that seemed to say, Iâm here. I understand. Youâre not alone.
And in that moment, the dam broke.
She wasn't asking for anything. She wasn't trying to rile me up for some sick pleasure, or to get me to do her bidding. There was no hidden agenda, no trap waiting to spring. It was⌠comfort. Pure, unadulterated comfort. A silent, unwavering support that asked for nothing in return. Her touch wasn't a transaction. It was a gift. A quiet, profound offering.
And then it hit me, with the force of a full-body bludger. That feeling, that quiet warmth spreading through my chest, chasing away the prickling irritationâthat wasn't just comfort. That was love. Her love, given freely, without expectation. A love so antithetical to everything Iâd ever known, so alien, yet so utterly⌠right.
And the terrifying, exhilarating echo it stirred in my own dark, guarded heart⌠that was my own love, for her. For Y/N. The girl who taught a Riddle that touch could be more than a weapon, more than a transaction. It could be everything.
I shifted, turning fully to face her, her hands still resting on my shoulders. Her smile faltered slightly, a hint of question in her eyes. I reached up, my hands covering hers, a gesture so foreign to me it almost felt like another's. My thumbs, rough against her soft skin, traced the back of her hands.
"Y/N," I managed, my voice rougher than usual. The storm outside had nothing on the one in my chest, a beautiful, dizzying chaos. "IâŚ"
I didn't know how to say it. How to articulate the sudden, overwhelming truth of it. But she just looked at me, her eyes shining with that same understanding. And she leaned in, resting her forehead against mine, her breath mingling with mine. Another touch. Another gift. And this time, I leaned into it, letting myself be consumed. She knew. She always knew.
Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x fem!reader
Summary: Ominis asks you out on a study date. However, he realises he didnât make it clear it was a date-date. Heâs determined to correct this mistake. In other words, Ominis is head over heels for you, and doesnât know if you feel the same.
Read on AO3 (account needed)
Wand held aloft, Ominis walked along the maze of corridors in Hogwarts. With practised effort the Slytherin dodged the various obstacles in his way. He skirted past the mess that was broken pieces of armour, humming little tunes, and sidestepped past a boy balancing a precarious stack of books in his hands.
Most importantly, he managed to avoid Peeves who was juggling crystal balls and singing irksome rhymes about future dangers and money exchangers. As was his routine following classes he would lounge around the first floor of the DADA tower, but not today.
No, this late afternoon was special. It could not be wasted in such a frivolous and relaxed manner. Ominis was on a mission to woo you. Gone were the days where he was content to be in your presence, listening to your charming voice, inhaling your calming scent, and cherishing in secrecy the fleeting touches of your bare skin.
Ominis believed it was pathetic to pine after you and not confess his tender feelings. A nagging thought popped into his head, âWhat if you reject him? Leave him heartbroken and miserable for the rest of his life?âÂ
He stopped dead in his tracks. Not for the first time, panic washed over him like a tidal wave. Often, he drowned in the waters and was unable to resurface to admit what he desired. Ominis took a steadying breath and gripped his wand tighter.
Worse still than the growing terror gnawing at his insides was the fact that he had let his actions be dictated by fear. He wouldnât anymore, no matter the consequences. He would explode if he kept this bottled in for much longer.
In less than ten minutes, he would either be the happiest man in the castle or more depressed than Nearly Headless Nick when his request for membership to the Headless Hunt was denied. He hoped for all he was worth that it was the former.Â
At last, he came to his destination: the musical corridor. He knew you loved visiting this place for the merry tunes that always seemed to brighten your mood. Already the diverse collection of melodic and cheerful sounds from the instruments filled his ears. It gave him a needed boost of courage.
He sensed a few students sitting on the benches delighting in the festive songs, but you were not among them. He proceeded down the hall until his wand alerted him to your location. You stood facing a painting whose subject sounded as if she were playing the mandolin.Â
He made his presence known. âEnjoying the music, are we?âÂ
âOh, Ominis, you gave me a fright!â You were startled. âYouâre as quiet as a church mouse sometimes. Did you just get out of Ancient Runes class? How was it?â Â
He replied, âIt went better than usual today. Professor Madmeeke was rather occupied with a new translation he discovered and allowed us to have independent study.â Ominis left out the detail that he was also distracted during class by attempting to plan out this very conversation.Â
âThat must have been nice. I used my free period researching for my Essence of Insanity essay.â You sighed, âThirty inches on the subject. I think Professor Sharp hates us with the amount heâs giving us. Iâll have to revise it in the morning, but I needed a break before I worked on my star chart for Astronomy. Hm, maybe Iâll leave that til Iâve had dinner though. What about you? What are you going to do tonight?â
Ominis opened his mouth and closed it again. He couldnât say the words now, could he? It would be all too random and abrupt. Here you were asking mundane questions about what he was going to do this evening, and here he was ready to profess how love-struck he was by you.
That wouldnât be right. It was too improper⌠too unexpected. At least, that's the excuse he gave. Abort mission! Abort mission! Gathering what was left of his scattered senses, he answered, âI have homework to complete for herbology.âÂ
The next words pop out before he could stop himself. âWould you consider studying with me in the library? A study date, perhaps?â
Merlinâs beard, what possessed him to suggest that! Mortification overcame his entire being. He was seconds away from fleeing to spare you the embarrassment of having to reply when you spoke up.
âWhat a wonderful idea! Itâd make the work pleasanter to have you with me. Shall we say eight oâclock?â Ominous gave a brief nod. âIâll see you then. Iâd stay a while longer, but I promised Lenora I'd meet her. I best be off if Iâm to make it in time. Bye.âÂ
Ominis felt your hand pat his back and heard your retreating footsteps. He laid down against the wall as his legs were wobbling an awful lot. You had said yes.
His head was spinning, in a good way that is. Did your acceptance mean that you were smitten as well? Would this be the first of many, many dates? A sudden, upsetting thought occurred to him.
What if you took the word date to mean a social engagement with a friend rather than a romantic one? Blast it. Why did he have to get so tongue tied around you? He should have made his intentions clear.Â
But what if you did understand his true meaning and misinterpreted it on purpose? On the other hand, he could be worrying for nothing. It could be possible you did grasp what he meant by date and consented to it in full knowledge.
Why did this have to be this arduous of a process? Because Iâm a coward, thatâs why. He shook his head and began making his way to the Slytherin common room. A nap was what he needed to soothe his addled brain before the date/not-a-date which would be taking far too soon for his liking.
_
You were already waiting for Ominis when he arrived at the libraryâs entrance. âI hope I didnât keep you waiting long,â he greeted.
âOf course not. I came early. I was perusing âAn Account of the Heavens Told Through 173 Star Patternsâ by Ileana Cardaignory.â You tucked the heavy book back in your bag.
âProfessor Shah recommended it to those who were interested in learning more than the eighteen star patterns we focused on in class last week.â
You descended the stairs and opened the doors. âWould you mind if we sat near the back instead of the front. I concentrate better when there arenât as many students passing by where we sit.â
âNot at all. Whatever is better for you.â In truth, he preferred a private setting on this⌠outing with you (he couldnât call it a date if he didnât know whether you regarded it as one).
Sitting across from you at the circular table, he pulled out his herbology textbook. He heard you unfurl a scroll and set about scribbling down the starâs positions.
He tried to pay attention to his own work; writing twenty-five inches on the uses of sneezewort. He had sixteen inches and needed an additional nine.Â
By his estimate, thirty minutes had elapsed where he read and you wrote. He could do little else besides read because he worried about disturbing you if he dictated his words for the quill to write.
Oh well, he also brought his Ancient Runes book to examine. He tapped his foot on the floor, his impatience increasing minute by minute. He set down his book and asked, âWhat time is it?â
You yawned, âItâs 9:08. Weâve been studying for an hour.â
âShall we consider taking a small recess then?â
âDonât tempt me, Ominis.â You brushed your quillâs feathery end across his face, making him smile.
âOh, but I am. I think it would be good to stretch our legs and have a short reprieve. Care to join me for a stroll amongst the shelves?â He stood up and extended his arm in your general direction.
âWell, if you insist.â You hooked your elbow with his and led the way. âMy eyes are straining themselves. Why do star charts have to be so small? Itâd be easier to see them if they were bigger. However, that would have to be an enormous scroll to fit them all.
âI guess it is preferable for the charts to be compacted instead. If giants were taking the class, the charts would have to be large. Everything would be big for them though. How big would a telescope have to be for a giant to use? If an average sized person used a giantâs telescope, would he see extra stars in greater clarity?âÂ
You continued talking in this manner for several minutes, jumping from one topic to the next. When you paused to inspect a certain spell book, Ominis cut in to inquire if you would be visiting Hogsmeade tomorrow.
You said, âYes, I need to drop by Scrivenshaft's to purchase a new bundle of quills. Their eagle feather quills are marvellous. I also need to go to Tomes and Scrolls. Iâve been meaning to get the tome âRetribution: Call of the Caged Mindâ for a while now. Are you going to buy anything at the shops?â
âI need a new vest and should replenish my stock of Bertie Bott's Beans. Would you like to go together?â
âThat'd be nice. Hogsmeade trips are more pleasurable with good company. Would it make any difference if I invited Nellie to come with us. She and I were discussingââ
Ominis interrupted, âAs a matter of fact, it would make a difference. Allow me to speak plainly and rephrase my question.â Ominis licked his lips, nervousness seeping into him. He ignored it. âMay I have the honour of accompanying you to Hogsmeade as your date?â
You gasped, âMy date?â He felt his heart fall into his stomach when you took a step back from him. That couldnât have been a favourable sign. You stuttered, âW-why?â
Ominis hadnât been expecting that response. He refrained from saying sarcastically that he had hoped you would pay for his things. Why did you think he asked?
âBecause I am interested in pursuing you in a romantic fashion.â Silence followed his frank statement, and not for the thousandth time he wished to see your face. What could your expression tell him that your voice or lack thereof did not?Â
You whispered, âI-I didnât know you cared for me in that capacity. I assumed my feelings were⌠unrequited.âÂ
It was Ominisâ turn to be stunned. âAre you implying that you believed all those instances where I sought you out alone, complimented you, shared my prized confectioneries, slept on your shoulder in History of Magic were platonic in nature?â
âI convinced myself they were the actions of a true friend.â
Shaking his head in disbelief, Ominis couldnât contain himself. He snorted, âYes, a true friend who frequently imagines snogging you.â His face dropped at once. He stammered, âForgive me. That was inappropriate of me to say. Pleaseââ
You laughed and stepped forward to grab his hands with yours, leaning closer to him. You murmured next to his ear which sent his heart beating faster, âIâll let you in on a secret. I have pondered the exact same thing.â
You squeezed his hands and tilted your face nearer to his until your soft lips kissed his cheek.
Ominis did not dare move or breathe lest he woke up from this sublime dream. Oh, how he wished his lips had been the target. You were teasing him now, werenât you?
Indeed, he heard you giggle, pulling back from him. âIâd love to go to Hogsmeade with you, Ominis. If you want, we could indulge ourselves further tomorrow.â
He brought you closer again and agreed, âThat is an excellent idea, darling.âcr
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