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romance-rambles · 19 days ago

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au - hogwarts+same age!cael | what if she's written mine on my upper thigh

A sixth year at Hogwarts, Cael and his classmates have just recently been exposed to the qualities of Amortentia, the potion of deep obsession. Somehow, it helps him win a kiss from his crush.

1.9k, alternate universe - hogwarts (ft. young cael), fluff + getting together, slight jealousy, reader is mc, series: none

THOSE WALKING INTO THE SLYTHERIN'S common room have long since grown accustomed to the sight of you sprawled across the carpet, with a hefty textbook protecting your pretty face from the light that shoddily illuminates the area. They spare you no more than a glance before they disperse, readily seeking refuge in the comforts of their dorm room.

Certainly, despite wearing a Gryffindor's robe, most would consider you an honorary Slytherin. And no one in the history of Hogwarts has ever transferred houses, but that has not stopped some from their cohort from attempting to make you the first to do so.

Cael has, on occasion, been one of them.

Neatly, he folds the corner of the page, his gaze lingering briefly on the ingredients for Amortentia—the potion that had spurred most of his classmates into a frenzy. Every year, when the sixth years soon approached this particular subject, the result was the same.

Though ingesting the potion is quite dangerous, what most have a tendency to seek out is, instead, one of its unique characteristics. The scent reflects that which the person smelling it finds most attractive, and for a class consisting of mostly seventeen year olds, the prospect of being the lucky few who could find themselves a partner in this way is exciting.

That, or watching a relationship crash and burn, when the scents inevitably do not match.

Cael, for one, has no interest in the drama. Yet, for all his aloofness, even he isn't above such curiosity. The day the Potions Professor quizzed the class on the characteristics of potions they'd need to know for their NEWTs, you simply said:

"It smells nice."

Try as he might, he can't shake the image of your flushed cheeks and the pleased smile tugging at your lips. He was certain his own cheeks did not fare much better in that moment. It was a matter confirmed by your teasing, another unsubtle push to force him to confess first.

In yet another moment of pettiness, he responded in kind, leaving the both of them at a stalemate once again.

When did their habit begin? When had they come to notice the ways in which they could not live without the other person? When had they decided, quietly, that they would not be the first to take the fall?

There are times when Cael wonders if it would be worth it to lose. Then, you make his heart race faster than it has any right to on a Tuesday afternoon with only a smug grin—and he realizes, no, it would not be worth the lifetime of teasing.

Putting his Potions textbook atop the coffee table, he glances at his study partner for this evening—and for every evening after.

From the moment the two of you were introduced—by your mother, no less—you seemed to have decided he was the greatest setback you would ever face. So, he too had returned the favor. But had either of those second years ever considered a different nuance to the word "adversary"?

Cael nudges your shoulder gently with his foot. "I think that's enough of a break."

You roll over with a groan. The textbook in your hands slams shut, narrowly missing the chance to trap the tip of your nose in. Already, he's bribed you with food. With a trip into the nearby town, a denial of something more couched into his words. With a bet designed to stoke your competitive spirit, and more.

Nothing has stuck.

As his lips purse and a sigh threatens to escape from his lips, a thought strikes the young prefect. He bends over, one hand pushing up his bangs before the back of his hand gauges his temperature. The other repeats the same gesture on you.

"You're not sick," he says, the blandness of his tone masking his relief.

You hum. "No, just lazy."

In the absence of something to hold, your fingers take to doodling patterns on the stiff carpet. Each stroke disappears into the dark green surface and leaves nothing behind. Dimly lit as the carpet beneath is, Cael can still make out your words—written in cursive, the looping letters reconstructing your previous response.

With his hands clasped in front of him, he watches more of your doodles disappear into the green. NEWTs. Amortentia. The shape of a heart. The beginning of a phrase, starting with a cursive I. Its seamless stroke twists into an ever running spiral, up until you slice it cleanly through the middle.

"Move over," he soon finds himself saying.

Your hand stills. Then, as soon as you process his words, you erase your already blank canvas before pulling your hands closer to yourself. Cael settles down beside you, drawing his knees to his chest.

The edge of the coffee table sits dangerously close to his forehead. He pushes it away, back to its original position, before he moved it closer for his convenience. His other hand comes to rest on the ground.

Your fingers find a new canvas in it. As he curls his hand into a fist, the space afforded to you by the back of his hand shrinks. But it does not deter you from resuming your doodles.

A star. A flower. A bundle of leaves.

"Not going to study?" you ask absent-mindedly.

Cael snorts, combing through his hair with his free hand. "Hard to study when my partner is slacking off."

You ignore his words entirely. Years of hearing his snark has granted you a layer of immunity to it—on what amounts to a good day for him, he can tear it down with ease, leaving you to huff and puff your way through conversations. Today is not one of those days.

"Guess what I'm writing," you say instead.

An L follows an E, which follows an A, which follows a C. He's written the name enough times over the years to recognize the strokes blindfolded.

"My name."

The next is one that's haunted him over the years.

It's on the corners of his notebooks' pages. It sits interchangeably with his own, between the first and second places, whenever their grades are posted. In the forest when he visits their pet dragon, it's the name that slips out of his mouth with a sigh—whether Beanie is well-behaved or not.

"…Yours." He leans back comfortably, eyes closed as he waits for his next trial. The next one is a drawing, in two parts. You've only finished your haphazardly-drawn strawberry when he asks, "Hungry?"

Humming, you sit up. "Not yet."

Sitting shoulder to shoulder like this, he can discern the faint, sweet scent of your shampoo from the smell of fresh paint that has a tendency to follow you wherever you go. Those were two of the scents that the Amortentia potion had adopted for his sake.

The third took the form of a freshly-baked vanilla cake, overlapping with a lavender-scented candle. A memory from two years prior, the first year neither of them returned home—to your home—for the holidays.

Cael could've gone away on his own. Your mother would've been happy to have at least one of them at home. But it was his own choice to stay.

For Beanie, he said out loud.

For you, he said, in the quiet of his mind, where his childish secrets resided.

He opens his eyes, craning his neck ever so slightly to watch you. You're gazing into the distance with a blank look in your pretty eyes. At some point in the silence, you had copied most parts of his sitting position—the difference lays in where your hands rest. They clasp tightly in front of your drawn-up legs, as if to keep them in place.

"I give up," you whisper, turning your head to look at him.

"That's been the state of affairs for a while," the young prefect says wryly.

In your eyes, he counts a multitude of shades of purple. Hidden among them, he realizes too late, is a vulnerable sort of honesty he's only seen once before. Annoyance replaces it briefly. You sigh and tuck the loose strands of your hair behind your ear.

"I'm not talking about studying."

Cael stares blankly in response. He's no better off when you close the distance between them and pull back just as quickly. What lingers on his lips is the taste of your lip balm—and when he wipes the sticky residue away, a pinky nude stains his thumb.

By now, a few of the Slytherins who had escaped to their dorm rooms earlier have started taking space up in the common room. Most hover at the edges, finding their seats on the sofas that line the walls. It is usually only Ambrum, from his fellow housemates, who sits in as their third wheel, but he has errands to run today.

Your lips twitch into a faint smile, oddly smug for having become the loser in their little war.

"You win," you say, but he thinks the flush creeping up his cheeks might tell a different story.

extra: a few hours ago - the reason why you confessed

FRESHLY-MADE STRAWBERRY TOAST, THE scent of broomstick handles, and lavender—those were the three aromas that the Amortentia potion presented you with in class. As it turns out, Natalie, one of the many admirers that Cael somehow has garnered over the years, happened to land two of the three herself.

You learn this while hiding in the bathroom stall, waiting for her and her friends to leave so you can too.

On an ordinary day, you wouldn't be so cowardly. But when her conversation with her friends begins with what is essentially a declaration of war, you think it might be just a little awkward to walk past her on your way out.

This is the story of why you decide to give in, a secret that stays with you until a random late night years later, when it slips out in the middle of a play argument.

"I can't believe you're going to confess," one of her friends repeats for the nth time. Frankly, you can't blame her. You'd be doing the same thing in her position. "Doesn't he have a thing with that Gryffindor girl?"

Your ears perk up at the mention of yourself. For the past few years, most of Cael's admirers have left him alone for that very reason. You have a claim, however implicit—one that rivals the kind a girlfriend might have.

For the reason that you will, one day, be his girlfriend, just as soon as he gives in and asks you out.

"It isn't official, though." Natalie digs through her pockets for something. From the crack in the stall, you realize it's lipgloss. "I've never seen them kiss or go on a date."

"Still…" Her other friend says, in a hushed tone. "What if he turns you down?"

"What if he doesn't?"

It isn't until Natalie speaks up again that you realize how fervently you hoped the question would deter her. Realistically, you have nothing to fear. Even so, the messy emotion known as jealousy burns away at your rationality, leaving you to gnaw at your lip in silence.

"Well, good luck then." This time, it's the first friend who comments. She seems to adjust her hair before clasping her hands together. "We should get going. Lunch should be almost over."

They leave just as loudly as they came, the conversation easily shifting to the hows of Natalie's plan. You sit there in the bathroom stall, for longer than you should. Your knuckles turn pale; your long nails dig into the palms of your hand.

You wonder—if the only thing spurring her to confess is that the two of you haven't officially defined your relationship, then would doing so lead her to change her mind?

— happy birthday to my very awesome birthday twin, @xcerizex!

#fics by aya #lovebrush chronicles #lovebrush chronicles x reader #for all time #for all time x reader #cael anselm #cael anselm x reader #lovebrush cael #love brush cael x reader #lbc cael #lbc cael x reader #rambles from here on ->#this is my first time writing baby yexuan so i hope i did him justice #he's always struck me as kinda bratty #and in this au where he's still the star student but mc has beef with him for half the time that they know each other #up until beanie works his exposure therapy magic on them #i think he'd be like ayn but...more stubborn #also yes the title is a taylor swift lyric #i couldn't have written this fic without listening to guilty as sin? 10+ times hoping for a plot bunny to walk into my head #no angst this year im afraid you'll have to wait next year for hanahaki au

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spotaus · 26 days ago

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So this might seem like a weird question, and this IS going anonymously because of it BUT

How many characters in New Age would be able to describe the taste of human flesh.

I feel like with the provided backstory, Killer could be a candidate for it, and I wouldn't be surprised if Nim had some sort of whim at some point even though I'm pretty sure you said they were vegetarian but I could have hallucinated that or smth

You can very much ignore this if you feel uncomfortable with it, btw. I just find this interesting

Hi anon, this ask is unhinged abd I love it SO dearly, please feel free to send more if you get the urge 💖 this is actually something exciting I hadn't even thought about! So... let's see who all I can list off for this idea...

-> Killer. Like u said Anon, I think he IS the most likely candidate! I don't think that it's a meal he'd have eaten often, nor would he openly joke about it, but I think that somewhere like the Temple where he was raised, or on the streets after he left Chara (the Black Market wasn't picky-) would be where it happened.

-> Nim. Oh. Yeah. She would've, I'm sure. (Also tbf I have no idea if I said that or not, my memory is SO bad, I'd probably have to check w/ Ancha lol- but for this let's imagine she's not.) I don't think anyone would be able to convince her if she knew what it was up-front (she thinks humans are lesser, but kinda in the way ppl don't usually think of brown bears as a food source?) But she's definitely had it before. 'Exotic cuts' that she never bothered to fact check lmao. Fancy and expensive, so she bought them!

-> Dust. Now, this one is a little weird, but I have good reason! Dust has a reputation to uphold when he's a crime lord, and has to get along with leaders of other crime branches to keep his power AND keep the lines running. One of the other kingdoms (which I'm establishing is basically full of shape-shifters which eat human flesh) was a prime source of income for Dust because they had a LOT of animal meat they weren't harvesting. In meetings, well, sometimes the meal involved the dishes of that kingdom, so human flesh! (He will NOT admit it didn't taste bad.)

-> Fresh. And no, not for the reason he'd normally know lmao. I think that Fresh's connection with the beasts (which I now realize are kinda stand-ins for his furby collection-) leads some of then to bring him gifts! And he lives usually out in the wilderness so a hunt is a hunt, y'know? Monsters are off-limits but like. If the beast brings him *just* the meat? He takes his chances abd hopes it's not People. (Some of it is, and he knows it, he could definitely identify it if given to him 🙏)

-> Reaper. He's not proud of it anymore, but back in the day when he was the general? Bringer of Death? Yeah, he ate a guy once. Used it as a fear tactic against their enemies, which in his defense DID work. But he wouldn't do it again. He would recognize the taste tho!

Soooo..... 5 of the New Age characters would be able to describe the taste of human flesh! (At least for the main cast lol-)

I do have honorary mentions though.

-> Ink: Has bitten people enough to *probably* have an idea of the taste.

-> Geno: Tried to do it "for science" when he was in the academy working on decay magic. (He reversed the decay enough that the flesh was fresh, he was curious!) He was told that if he did they'd suspend him, so he missed his opportunity :(

-> Cross: Can't tell you about the taste of flesh, but human blood used to get into his mouth all the time when he worked in his old kingdom, so he could tell you about that instead!

#new age au #thank you so much for this ask this was genuinely so fun to think about!!!!#tags for more thoughts:#Horror may have been starving but his family are an extremely peaceful community and weren't anywhere close to wanting to resort to violence #characters like Dream + Blue are off the table (Dream probably suggested it once but Blue shut it down lol-) thanks to morals #Nightmare's squeamish and VERY particular about his food and Ccino turns away all suspiscious meat immediately #(and in childhood the twins ate different from their mother)#Error is a lot like Night abd is picky about his food #but he ALSO needs to eat a lot less often than normal monsters so the reason never arose #Ccino... had it rough. but if Human Meat was Nim's delicacy and Ccino barely ate as it was? he was NOT subjected to that horror lmao #i think that covers everyone I didn't mention in the post?#but snth I gotta highlight is that Geno is unhinged and Fresh picked that up from him. Geno is willing to do just about anything to prove #his proficiency in magic or learn smth new #and Fresh has been expected by his beasts to eat random berries and dead birds and junk for years and. he does. so if he has #plausible denianility with the flesh then whatever. not on him. lmao-#Killer isn't proud at all of his eating it because frankly he didn't want to do it. and Dust is the kinda guy to mention it in passing #and then not bring it up again lmao-#then ofc Reaper was a wild teen/young adult. because he aged slower his roaring twenties lasted half a century and eating people was the #more tame side of things. did it very eloquently tho lmao. very mindful. very chill. love him <3 #okay I'll stop rambling now! this one was fun!!!!

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