#that bloody golden ticket | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

coupsiedaisee · 21 days ago

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jump then fall | issue 02 | c.sc

when trying to unearth hogwarts' resident Golden Boy™ choi seungcheol's secret girlfriend, leads to the proposition of a lifetime

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader genre: hogwarts au, fake dating au, fluff, angst wordcount: 7.9k masterlist

BREAKING NEWS! LOCAL CLAW EMBROILED IN SCANDAL WITH BELOVED LION?

To say this was going poorly would be an understatement.

One week. You had been following Seungcheol for one week, and nothing. You had nothing to show for it.

Oh, you had photos, two whole rolls worth.

A snap from the back of Transfiguration. Seungcheol sported a bright smile as he turned a raven into a textbook. His partner, a quirky Hufflepuff by the name of Claire Dobson, sat next to him, clapping enthusiastically.

A click from behind one of the suits of armour lining the hallway. Seungcheol leaned up against the wall, listening to fellow Head Girl, Mythili Mahendran, as she spoke fervently, her arms waving about with each word. He had a reassuring grin as he nodded along, eyes never once leaving her face.

“The only thing this kid is doing is buying a one-way ticket to Burnt-out-Ville,” you say, slipping the last bit of film out of the developer potion and hanging it to dry.

On it, a clear snapshot from behind a shelf in the herbology section of the library. Seungcheol’s draped over Joshua’s shoulders, eyes crinkled into half moons as he bursts out laughing, his pearly whites on full display. Jeonghan sat across from them, a disgruntled sneer on his face.

“Maybe he’s sneaking off somewhere at night?” Soonyoung leans against the wall of the dark room, the deep red light reflecting off his face.

“Where,” You shake your head, “Or even better, when? I’ve been following him day and night like his bloody shadow! Golden Boy couldn't even take a piss without me knowing.” There had been hardly enough time for you to finish most of your assignments this week. Not to mention, the 2 feet on Unbreakable Vows you hadn’t even started.

“I’m telling you Hosh,” you start unclipping the dried photos, sorting them into piles. Seungcheol in class. Seungcheol at the library. Seungcheol in the Great Hall. “Perhaps Raveena’s got it wrong.”

“Impossible,” Soonyoung scoffs. “Pudding’s the best there is.”

You shoot him a look, “No one is perfect. She was bound to pick up a weird rumour eventually.”

“She’s never gotten a tip wrong.” An unspoken yet hung in the air.

Raveena was a capable girl, there was no doubt about that. But, you knew a lost cause when you saw one. Soonyoung, despite being as stubborn as a bull, would eventually come around.

Right?

Soonyoung chews his lip before pushing himself off the wall. “There’s always tomorrow I suppose.” He was halfway out the door before it registered.

“Tomorrow?” You ask.

“Did you forget?” Soonyoung feigns surprise, and you dread his next words. “First Hogsmeade weekend, no better time or place for lovely couples to have a cute little date.”

You resist the urge to drown him in one of your tubs of developer potion.

“I haven’t even begun to research that Defense essay that’s due Monday. Not to mention, the ten million other things we need to study.” You slam the canister you were holding down onto the counter, exasperated. “Or did you forget we’ve got N.E.W.T.s this year?”

Soonyoung pouts, shaking his head. He fiddles at the chipping wood on the doorway. “Come on Wallflower, I’ve even got disguises for us!“

You loved your best friend. Truly. With all your heart. Yet, at his core, Soonyoung Kwon was a Grade A schemer. A Slytherin through and through.

“I promise, I’ll help you with your essay when we get back,” says Soonyoung. He turns on his puppy dog eyes for extra effect. “I’ll even throw in sweets from Honeydukes! Whatever you want, it’s on me.”

You were running low on sugar mice and you did eat your last pumpkin pasty during Seungcheol’s prefect rounds the other night.

“Fine,” you grumble, drying off your hands. Whipping around, you stab a finger in his direction, “But this is the last! If we come out empty-handed, you’re going to drop it. Promise?”

Soonyoung put his hands up, “Swear on my Nan’s grave.” He makes a crossing motion across his chest and points up at the ceiling, sending a wink your way.

He dodges the towel you chuck at him, before bidding you a good night, leaving you alone to ruminate on a certain Gryffindor Captain and Head Boy.

Soonyoung waits for you in the entrance hall the next morning.

You curl your lip, looking him up and down. He wore thick brown robes with a gold monogrammed “SK” on the chest, a stark contrast to your plain, faded, and navy ones. On his head, sat a matching brown deerstalker, his blond bangs poking out from underneath.

“What's with the hat?”

Soonyoung grinned, sticking out a small bag. “Disguises!”

Inside, you found some sunglasses, a couple of stick-on fake moustaches, and a cheap-looking wig.

“I wanted you to have the first pick,” Soonyoung says as you decide on a pair of matte black sunglasses and a bushy chevron moustache.

He grabs a handlebar moustache and brown tortoiseshell sunglasses for himself, “How do I look?”

“Like you’re about to solve a murder,” you say dryly. “All you’re missing is a magnifying gl–”

“Do not underestimate your friend so.” He fishes in his robe pockets before pulling out a gold-rimmed magnifying glass.

Holding the glass flat in your direction, he presses down on a hidden button in the handle. A bright light flashes along with a loud clicking noise. You throw your arms up to cover your eyes.

“Merlin,” Soonyoung scratches his head, peering at the glass befuddled. “I thought I’d turned that off.”

Snatching the device from his hands, you weave an arm around his. “I’ll fix it on our way. We’ve got to get a move on if we want to get to Hogsmeade while he’s still there.”

“You’ve got your camera?”

You scoff as you pat at your chest, where there is a barely visible small bump under your robes. “Of course, I’m no amateur.”

The path up to the small wizarding village is free of any students. Most tend to head up earlier, wanting to make the most of their rare reprieve from school.

This was fine with the two of you though. It allowed Soonyoung to ramble about a few other stories the team was working on that week, while you fixed his magnifying glass.

It’s easy, nothing a few modified silencing charms and an expungement charm couldn't fix. As for your own camera, all it needs is a well-placed disillusionment charm, and it’ll disappear against your chest.

“So, where shall we begin?” you say, as the two of you enter the village. “You think he'd have taken her to Three Broomsticks or the Hog's Head? I'm leaning towards Three Broomsticks, less creepy, more casual.”

“I think I know exactly where they would’ve gone,” Soonyoung says with a terrifying twinkle in his eye.

There was absolutely nothing that could’ve prepared you for Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop.

Bright fuschia painted the walls of the small teahouse, burning into your irises along with the hot pink paper lanterns and tinsel hanging from the ceiling.

The two of you find an empty table in the corner, huddling around a purple lace-covered table.

While you sat with your back to the shop, Soonyoung had a perfect view of the front door, as well as the massive window next to it, allowing a full view of the main street through Hogsmeade.

Despite the overwhelming crowd in the tea shop, Seungcheol was nowhere to be found.

You watch as a couple walks past the window, bundled in warm robes and holding hands, before turning back to Soonyoung. “Shouldn’t we try to go and find our Golden Boy?" It was sweltering inside, as though there were one too many heating charms in place. "Rather than just, waiting around for him to show up?” Your mustache itches and you refrain from ripping it off.

“You wouldn't be aware Wallflower–," A server comes by, setting down two hot pinks mugs filled with a questionable brown liquid. Soonyoung smiles a soft thank you before nudging you under the table with his foot. He tips his head towards the server with an expectant look, but you can’t stop staring at them.

It was Seokmin Lee, a 5th-year Gryffindor, wearing the most atrocious outfit you'd ever seen. He's got on a mauve velour muggle tracksuit and, over it, a hot pink mug costume, much like the mugs he’d just set down.

Soonyoung kicks you under the table again, this time harder. You yelp at the pain shooting through your shin, quickly recovering though, and wince out a meek thanks. An eye-crinkling smile graces Seokmin’s face, coupled with a bright chirpy you’re welcome as he sashays away.

Soonyoung takes a sip of his drink, and you mirror him, only to gag immediately. It tasted like someone had poured developer potion down your throat.

"You wouldn't know, Wallflower," Soonyoung starts again, "but this is the cool and hip place to take your dates.”

A golden cherub flies past, throwing pink confetti in your direction. Some of it falls into your drink. “Hoshi, if anyone took me here for a date, I’d probably drown them in the great lake.” You grimace as the couple next to you starts snogging.

He wasn’t wrong though. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d gone on a date.

Soonyoung starts to say something else when his eyes widen at something, or someone, behind you. “Over there! Over there!” He shakes a finger at the front window and you turn to see Seungcheol walking past, flanked as usual by Joshua and Jeonghan. This time though, they’re joined by a fourth boy, dark-haired and lanky, with thick-rimmed glasses.

Soonyoung scrambles to get up, digging through his robe pockets for some sickles before throwing them on the table, and dragging you out of your chair.

The two of you hurry out, following them down the mildly crowded village path. Hiding behind other students and in nearby alleyways when necessary.

"It looks like they're heading into the Weasley’s joke shop." You're crouched behind the postal building with Soonyoung nearly sitting on top of you. The two of you peer around the corner, watching as Seungcheol and his friends file into Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. “Come on then, let’s go get our Golden Boy.”

It’s loud inside the joke shop, and you lose the boys amidst the sea of brightly coloured merchandise and robes.

“Let’s split up?” You suggest. Divide and conquer. Soonyoung nods in agreement, slinking away and disappearing behind the love potions. You take your camera out, giving it a silent tap. It turns invisible against your chest.

Ambling up the stairs to the second floor, you pass the small section of muggle magic tricks and turn the corner into the sweets section. There, you find your Golden Boy past the Canary Creams, perusing the Skiving Snackboxes. He’s got his back turned to you, giving you a full view of his deep russet robes, and not much else.

Quickly, you hide behind a cardboard display filled with edible dark marks. Peeking out from above, you watch as Seungcheol bends down and picks up a snackbox, pushing his wire-rim glasses further up his nose.

He reads the side of one of the boxes before reaching into his pocket and taking out a piece of paper. Slightly leaning over the display, you crane your neck trying to get a glimpse. Before you know it, you lose your balance, tipping the display over and sending yourself flying to the ground.

“Shit, shit, shit-”

At the sound of the loud crash, Seungcheol spins around, immediately running over when he sees you on the ground.

"Are you okay?" Seungcheol peers over you, concern written all over his face.

You lay surrounded by the edible dark marks, not making a move to get up. All you wish for at this moment is for the ground to split in half and suck you right in.

"Here, let me help you." Seungcheol holds his hand out to you, expectant. For a moment, you’re compelled to take it. But then you think of his skin touching yours and you start to feel your heart speeding up, your breath quickening, and the feeling of panic crawling up your throat.

Merlin, not here. Not now.

You lean up on your elbows, staring at his hand, hesitating. He looks so worried though, with his eyebrows furrowed and his forehead wrinkled. So, you push down any feeling of trepidation, and you take his hand, letting yourself be pulled up. You don't think about how warm and calloused his hands feel and you definitely don’t think about how equally warm your cheeks were getting.

This could not be happening to you right now. Did he see your camera? Feeling the weight of it around your neck, it takes everything in you to not peek down and see if the disillusionment charm is still in effect.

Soonyoung's sunglasses sit askew on your nose and the moustache was beginning to slowly peel off as the adhesive charm weakened. You must’ve looked like Hogwart’s resident basket case about now. The next coming of Moaning Myrtle.

"You alright there?" Seungcheol asks. All you can do is nod dumbly in response. You could feel your heart thumping loudly in your chest, the erratic beating pulsing in your ears.

He bends back down to pick up the fallen display and candies while you hastily fix your glasses and moustache, willing the other half to stick back on.

This is just your luck. Three years of following people around and this was the first time you'd ever been caught. You were going to kill Soonyoung. This was, after all, his grand idea.

Actually, no. You were going to do something worse than avada kedvra him. You were going to stick his precious gobstones set into a cauldron of boiling–"Are you sure you're okay?"

You snap out of your premeditated murder planning, "What?"

Seungcheol’s looking at you, his eyebrows still furrowed. "Did you hit your head when you fell?"

"What?" You repeat like an idiot. "Oh, no, yeah, I'm good." You smooth down the top of your hair, "Haha, see! No head injury!"

If you were hoping this would ease Seungcheol's worry, you don't think you were succeeding. New creases appear on his forehead the longer you speak.

“Look, I am as fine . . .” You search for the right words, the ones that would make his worry go away, “ . . . as a flobberworm," you finish lamely.

The fake moustache slowly starts peeling off once more and you fight the urge to rip it off and incendio it into a pile of ashes. Instead, you plaster a smile on your face, putting two thumbs up as a consolation.

However, it did not have the intended effect. Somehow, Seungcheol Choi managed to furrow his eyebrows even more. He stood there staring at you with his arms wrapped around each other as if you were a child and he was wondering what to do with you.

At this point, you were wishing you’d had hit your head. Much better explanation for all this than, you were just like this.

Finally, Seungcheol nods, seemingly satisfied. "Be careful then, and watch where you're going." He reaches out to you, taking your sunglasses, and pushing them up into your hair. If you weren't frozen out of embarrassment, you might've flinched. "Let's keep the sunglasses for the sun, yeah? You could've seriously hurt yourself."

Your mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, no sound coming out.

Seungcheol puts his hands on your shoulders and you swallow hard, tensing up as he pats your shoulders down. "I'll see you 'round then?" You nod back, feeling much like a bobblehead today, and Seungcheol turns around, heading back down to the main floor.

You just stand there, unsure of what to make of what had just happened, and give yourself a moment to get your heart rate back to an acceptable one.

Downstairs, you find Soonyoung by the pygmy puffs, chatting with a short red-headed boy. You grab him by the collar of his robes, dragging him outside and tossing him into the cold air.

“Woah, Wallflower,” Soonyoung stumbles a little, trying to find his footing. “Is everything okay?”

Ripping off your moustache, you push it forcefully into Soonyoung’s chest. It sticks for a brief moment before falling to the ground. “I’m keeping the glasses as commission,” You snarl, yanking them off your head and stuffing them into your robe pockets.

“What happened?” Soonyoung still looks bewildered. “What's going on?

“My luck. My wonderful luck is what happened.” You curl your fingers into fists before releasing them along with a deep breath.

Soonyoung still looks perplexed. “Did you find-”

“Oh, I found him all right.” You mutter, fluffing up your robes. “Whatever, it doesn't matter.” You clear your throat. “You promised me anything from Honeydukes and it’s time for you to cough it up, buttercup.”

You start walking towards the sweet shop as Soonyoung stomps behind you, grumbling something about you eating him out of house and home.

Honeydukes was your second favourite place in the world (your precious dark room being the first). The air smells sickly sweet as you walk in, a mix of baked goods, chocolates, and sugary goodness. You grab a basket by the door and begin perusing the aisles. Soonyoung needed to pop over into another shop, leaving his coin bag with you.

Soon enough, you've filled up your basket. You were currently contemplating whether to stick the Fizzing Whizbees you’d grabbed for Soonyoung on top of the basket, and risk crushing the pumpkin pasties, or just hold the box under your other arm. You decide on the latter, but the basket still ends up being heavier than you’d expected.

Maybe you’d gone a little overboard with the extra box of sugar mice and maybe the third box of licorice wands was unnecessary, but when Soonyoung was indebted to you like this, you couldn’t help but take advantage

You hold the Fizzing Whizzbees under one arm, groaning as your other arm trembles under the weight of the basket.

“Need some help with that?” says an all too familiar voice from behind you. You nearly drop the basket on your foot.

This couldn’t be happening to you. Not again. Not so soon.

Familiar russet robes flash in the corner of your eye and Seungcheol’s before you, grabbing the heavy basket out of your arms like it was a cloud. You trail behind him like a lost puppy as he leads the two of you into line.

Seungcheol lifts the basket up and down like a dumbell. “What’s in this anyways? The whole store?”

You hold the Fizzing Whizbees box closer to your chest like an emotional support item before shaking your head. “Just restocking. Hosh–Soonyoung owes me. Some pumpkin pasties, licorice wands–" you start listing off, counting on your fingers, "–chocolate frogs, jelly slugs, exploding bonbons, sugar mice–oh bludgers, I meant to grab sugar quills!” You look behind you, forlorn.

There were quite a few late nights coming up for you this week and you weren’t sure how you were going to get through them without your favourite sugar quills.

“Did you want to go grab some?” Seungcheol asks, eyes following yours to the back of the store. “I’ll hold your spot in line.”

"No, it's alright," You say dejectedly, tightening your hold around the whizbees. “This is probably more sugar than I should be allowed anyways.” Seungcheol nods, nudging his glasses up with his knuckle.

The two of you finally make it up to the front counter where he sets the basket down. As the cashier starts to take items out to bag, you dig your hands in your pockets to fish out Soonyoung's coin pouch.

Seungcheol chats with the cashier while they finish bagging your items into two bags. You don’t follow their conversation as you search through Soonyoung’s coin bag for some galleons, catching only mentions of Quidditch and Gryffindor. As soon as you pay, Seungcheol grabs both bags.

“Oh you don’t have to–” You try taking the bags back from him, but he holds them away from your hands.

Seungcheol clicks his tongue at you, “Now, what kind of Head Boy would I be if I made you carry this all the way back to school?”

You frown, “It wouldn’t be all the way to school. I’m meeting Soonyoung at the Three Broomsticks.”

“Even better, that’s where I’m headed anyways.” Seungcheol starts down the road without waiting for your response, leaving you to jog behind to catch up.

Inside, the inn’s warm and toasty, a fire burning in the corner. Seats were already filling up with students finishing up their day. Seungcheol finds you an empty booth in the corner for you to wait in for Soonyoung. He puts the bags on one side, motioning you to slide into the other.

“Thanks again Seungcheol. You really didn’t have to–”

Seungcheol chuckles softly, adjusting his glasses, “It was my pleasure.” He sticks his hands in his robe pockets, lightly rocking back and forth on his feet. For a moment, it seemed as though he looked shy. “I hope you enjoy your sweets, I’ll see you ‘round.” And with that, he left to go join his friends, seated on the other side of the inn.

By the time Soonyoung comes strolling in, you’ve already downed two hot chocolates. Now sipping on a third, you’re fiddling with your camera to pass the time. Trailing behind Soonyoung was Raveena, sporting a bright blue beanie and her usual coke bottle glasses.

“Kneazles, what’ve you got in here Wallflower? The entire shop?” Sooyoung takes your sweets haul and sets them under the table so he and Raveena can slide into the booth.

You sip the last of your hot chocolate, before reaching into your pockets and tossing him his coin bag, “You said anything, and I took you for your word.”

Soonyoung catches his coin bag with a gasp, “It’s so light, I’ve been swindled!”

“Hoshi here tells me you two almost caught–” Raveena looks shifty-eyed across the inn before lowering her voice, “–Seungcheol, with his girlfriend this morning.”

You give Soonyoung a pointed look, “He told you wrong. We’re about as close to getting a photo as catching a pixie in a knapsack.”

The three of you glance over across the room to where Seungcheol sits with his friends. He has an arm slung over Jeonghan's shoulders as the two of them were open-mouth laughing at something.

You’re filled to the brim with a fourth warm hot chocolate when you excuse yourself to grab another drink. “You two want anything?” They both shake their heads.

As Madam Rosemerta finishes up with another customer, you feel someone come up next to you at the bar.

"Fancy seeing you here,” drawls a familiar deep voice.

You turn to see Seungcheol sliding up to you at the bar. He’d shed the robes and was wearing a green Holyhead Harpies hoodie, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

You squint up at him, “Do I know you?”

He drops his mouth open in fake aghast, glasses sliding down his nose. “Have the last seven years meant nothing?” he says, holding a hand up to his heart as if you’d shot an arrow at it.

You stifle a giggle behind your hand and a cheery smile spreads on Seungcheol's face.

Madam Rosemerta swishes past, juggling multiple empty goblets, “I’ll be with you two in just a mo��!”

“Not a problem Rosie!” Seungcheol calls out. He leans back against the bar, elbows resting on top and showing off his sturdy forearms.

You cast your eyes elsewhere, wondering if Seungcheol was aware of just how attractive he was. No longer was he the bumbling little first year you'd met seven years ago. After all, there's a reason a photo of him with a rumoured beau would be the scoop of the paper.

You glance as he adjusts his glasses and runs a hand through his hair.

“How're the first weeks of classes going for you by the way?” he asks, crossing his arms. Ever the Head Boy.

“It’s N.E.W.T.s year, obviously you know how it is.” You sigh dejectedly, “I haven’t even outlined that massive defense essay.”

“Oh yeah. I mean, three feet? On Unforgivable curses?" he says, sounding exasperated. “As if we don’t have eleven other classes to do work for.”

“That’s what I said!” Very few students take all 12 N.E.W.T.s. There are four in your graduating class. At least, used to be four. You’d almost forgotten about Jake Sim dropping out of Arithmancy this week, making it three: Yourself, Seungcheol, and Mythili, the Head Girl.

The conversation settles back into a comfortable silence.

Madam Rosemerta comes up to the bar, “Alright dears, what can I get you two?”

“Can I get a round of warm butterbeers for the table? And whatever the lady wants," He tips his head at you.

You already had so much hot chocolate, now you wanted something different. And cold. “I want something colder but I’m not really feeling butterbeer?"

“I know just what you need," There’s a glint in Seungcheol’s eyes. "Get 'er one of my usuals, please.”

“Of course! Let me know where you’re sitting dear and Lysander will bring it over to you” She gestures at the silver-haired barback behind her.

Seungcheol throws a couple of sickles down on the bar, “Thanks Rosie, these are for hers too.”

“What? No, Seungcheol–” you stutter, but he just shoots you a cheeky wink.

“Just make sure you enjoy it.”

You got back to your booth and not soon after, Lysander comes by with the reddest drink you’d ever seen. “Cherry soda?” You raise a shy hand and he sets it in front of you “Anything else I can get for you?”

“I think we’re good here. Thank you!”

The drink came in a glass goblet with a small paper umbrella sticking out on top. You take a sip, humming with a shiver. The ice felt good, and it was just the right amount of sweet versus tart.

“No hot chocolate, Wallflower?” Hoshi says, chewing on a fizzing whizbee.

“I just wanted to try something new.” You say, taking another sip. “Seungcheol recommended it.”

Raveena perks up, “Did he now.” She leans forward in her seat. “He’s not onto you, right? He wasn’t asking about why you lot were stalking him?”

“Following, Raveena!” Soonyoung exclaims. “We were following him, not stalking.”

Raveena scrunches her face, “Mm, yeah, that’s not really any better Hoshi.”

“Fine, we happened to be in Hogsmeade, in the same shop, at the same time as him.” Soonyoung rolls his eyes. “As was like, half the school. So really, we were doing nothing weird.”

It seemed Soonyoung wasn’t done there though, turning to face Raveena. “And you know what, I don’t like what you’re insinuating Pudding. Not very team player of you.”

“Ooh, someone’s a little touchy about this. You’re awfully defensive Hosh. One would even say you’re project–”

“Enough you two. You–,” you point at Hoshi, “it was stalking. We were stalking him. What we do is honestly kind of creepy. We should really be called The Creepy Whistler. And you–,” you point to Raveena, “Don’t egg him on. We both know I’m the one who won’t hear the end of it.”

You pick up the paper umbrella, twirling it in your fingers. “He was just asking me about classes. We’re both taking the same N.E.W.T.s after all.”

“Good, that’s good,” Raveena says. “He’s not onto us. Means he’ll put his guard down, eventually. We’ll get our moment.” Soonyoung pops another whizbee in his mouth, nodding along.

“I know today was a bust. But, I have something that might cheer you up.”

You were back at Hogwarts, sharing a table at the library with Soonyoung, who had promised you he’d help with your essay for DADA.

He digs into his bag, coming out with a can of something.

Upon closer look, you nearly shriek, "You did not!"

"I did!"

You grab the canister, "You did not!"

"I did!" He says gleefully. Someone two tables over shushes you guys.

You turn the canister over in your hand, eyeing the back excitedly. It’s lime green with black text made to look like it was sprayed on. The text reads Glow Ho! Camera Flow and attached to the side, a small cylinder of film.

"This has been sold out everywhere." Not to mention expensive. But if anyone could afford it, it would be Soonyoung. One of the many perks of being the heir to Madame Kwon’s Publishing Company. They publish most of the textbooks used at Hogwarts, not to mention the international best-selling series, Madame Kwon’s Magical Adventures.

"How did you manage to get your hands on one?" You narrow your eyes at him. “Hoshi, why did you get me this?”

"You've been putting a lot of work into the Whistler, on top of having way more N.E.W.T.s to study for than me." He continues when you don't seem convinced. "And I know you've been barely sleeping, following Seungcheol around–"

"But that’s what the Honeydukes was for." You set the canister down on the table, pushing it away from you. "What is it that you really want?"

"Look,” Ah, there it was, “I know we're both super busy, but I wouldn't ask if I wasn’t desperate.”

"Just spit it out. What. Do. You. Want?"

He sighs, "You know how I take photos for the Quidditch teams?" Of course you do. You were the one who taught him how to work a camera specifically for sports shots. Something you did so you wouldn’t be tasked to do so.

"Yeah? What about it?" you say, not liking where this was heading.

"Could you take over for me for the next few weeks?" You groan as he goes on. "Both the gobstones club and the chess club increased their meetings and between that, N.E.W.T.s, the Whistler, not to mention the ten million apprentice applications I have to do, I just don’t have the time. Oh please, Wallflower? Please, please, pleaseeee," he pleads.

You wince and try to stop him as he starts vibrating in his seat. "Merlin, okay, fine. So what, just take some photos at their games?" Hoshi grimaces. "No, no, no! No more!” you hiss. “What else could I possibly do for you?" He was already asking for so much.

Yet somehow, you end up on the grassy quidditch pitch at dawn the next day.

It is cold, it's wet, and it is foggy as hell. You could not fathom why on earth the Ravenclaws were practicing at this ungodly hour. The morning fog mists on your cheeks like small pinpricks.

"How did they turn out?" asks Olivia Prewett, a tall, broad gal who is Ravenclaw’s team captain and sole keeper.

You pop the film out of your camera, sticking it in its temp-controlled tube. "I think they should be good. I'll let you know when I figure out my schedule to do the team photos." You stick the tube into your bag before popping another roll of film into the camera.

"Sounds good, just keep me posted." She gives you a faint smile before turning to look at the hubbub across the field. "Looks like Gryffindor's taking over next, you gonna be good?"

You nod, body shivering as a gust of wind blows through. On the other side of the field, the Gryffindor team was starting to set up for their practice as the Ravenclaws cleared out.

Seokmin Lee runs by, yelling, "Prewett, Prewett, let's do itttt!" He shoots finger guns at Olivia as a boy behind him struggles to carry both their brooms, nearly slipping a few times on the muddy pitch, "Aw Boo, don't get my broom muddy man."

Seungcheol jogs up to the two of you. “Prewett,” he nods.

Olivia nods back, “Choi.” She turns back to face you, "Make them look bad for me, will you?" You smile back, nodding.

"Alright?" Seungcheol's wearing the same green Holyhead Harpies hoodie from yesterday.

"H-hi Seungcheol," You say, teeth chattering. The thin jumper you had on does nothing for the windchill and you rub your arms trying to warm up.

"You seem a little cold there." Seungcheol looks you up and down as you tremble a little.

"I-I'm f-fi–," You clear your throat before trying again, "I'm f-fine."

Seungcheol pulls his hoodie off over his head, mussing up his hair, before holding it out to you, shaking it when you don’t move to grab it.

You tentatively take it from him. The sleeves fall further past your own arms and you have to scrunch them up by your elbows so you can hold your camera.

Practice goes by pretty quickly, and by the time Seungcheol lands in front of you again, hopping off his broom, you almost forget you can no longer feel your fingers.

“Got what you needed?”

“Yup, this should do it,” you say, popping the film into another temp-controlled canister. “I'll let you know when me or Soonyoung are free to do the team photos.”

You grab the bottom of Seungcheol's hoodie, intending to pull it off, when he stops you, putting his hands on yours.

You flinch, taking a step back and Seungcheol yanks his hand back, like he touched fire. He rubs the back of his neck abashedly, “You, uh, you can keep it.” His cheeks were rosy, from the cold, or something else, you weren't sure. “It's not warming up anytime soon, you'll need it if you're photographing the ‘Puffs”

“Oh.” You grip the edges of the hoodie, fingers clenching at the soft fabric. “Um, thank you?”

Seungcheol throws you a sheepish grin, before turning around and running to join the rest of his team.

When you wake up the next morning, you feel tired and groggy, shoulders aching a little.

Seungcheol's hoodie sits washed and folded neatly on your bedside table. You eye it apprehensively as you get ready for class, deciding to shove it down into the bottom of your book bag on your way out the door.

You meet Soonyoung down in the dungeons. He’s leaning against the wall, at the end of the queue of students waiting to be let into your double potions class.

“Morning Hosh,” you stifle a yawn behind your hand.

“Morning Wallflower. Didn't think you were going to make it.” He says, pushing off of the wall and handing you a small thermos. A strong scent of Nocturna Brewery’s coffee wafts through the air. “Missed you at breakfast this morning.”

“Was up all night finishing that defense essay.” You take a sip from the thermos, humming as the bitter taste zings through you, waking you up a little. “You didn’t think I’d leave you stranded in potions without me, did you?” It was your strongest subject, the only N.E.W.T.s Soonyoung was taking where he’d barely scraped by.

As the classroom opens up and students file in, you and Soonyoung try to find an empty table, heading into the back of the room. You ignore Seungcheol and his friends as you pass by them in the front row, the green hoodie weighing heavily in the bottom of your bag.

The two of you squeeze into a table along with Tabitha Heathcote, a Gryffindor girl with a strong aversion to you, and her friend. Mary? Minnie?

There’s a small tussle as Soonyoung tries to set his bag on the table where Tabtiha’s got her elbows spread wide out, one that Soonyoung eventually wins. Tabitha scoots over with a grunt, disgust never once leaving her face.

Tabitha has never liked you, especially since the incident in your fourth year. While being in different houses helped you avoid her a good amount of the time, being the same year meant you were forced to see her in class on the daily. There wasn’t a moment she was around that she wouldn’t make clear how much she absolutely abhorred you.

You get settled, pulling out your books and setting up your cauldron and scales. Already on the board is today’s potion assignment and it doesn’t take long before you two get started making it.

“I know you said not to bring it up anymore–,” Soonyoung starts.

“Soonyoung, if you don't want me to stick your head in this cauldron, I suggest you don't finish that sentence.” The cauldron in front of you bubbles in agreement as you pour crushed red beetles in.

Soonyoung throws his hands up in defence, “No need to get violent, Wallflower.” He leans sideways against the table, "I just think we should review what we have, to make sure we've followed every thread and haven't missed anything."

You sigh, cracking your neck. “Hoshi, unless Seungcheol’s secret partner is Jeonghan, Joshua, or that sixth year that's always with them, then I haven't missed anything. I was on his ass for days. If he was meeting someone in secret, there's no way I wouldn't have caught it.”

He paused to think before asking, “What about Mythili?”

“Mahendran?”

“You had a lot of photos of him talking to her.”

“Of course I did,” you say, irritated. “She's Head Girl, you dolt. I'd be worried if he wasn't talking to her.”

“See!” Hoshi points accusingly, “It’s the perfect cover for secret dating."

“Yeah, it would be,” You crush a sopophorous bean dangerously close to Soonyoung's fingers and he yelps, pulling his hand away, “If only she didn't have that on again, off again thing with that sixth year, Seokmin.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

Soonyoung leaves for a moment to go grab more crushed beetles as you stir your potion absent-mindedly. Your eyes wander to Seungcheol, sitting two rows ahead, in his own bubble of a world with his friends.

Joshua’s lounging in the chair next to him, as Jeonghan dangles dead flobberworms out of his nose, pretending they were bogies. Seungcheol is the only one diligently stirring his potion.

Soonyoung comes back with a small vial of crushed beetles, shaking it in front of your face.

You pour it in, stirring counterclockwise as the potion turns a pretty lavender hue.

“Did you get any photos of him when we were in Hogsmeade?”

Your mind flashes back to the accident inside Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. You shake your head, huffing, “No, nothing.”

Soonyoung purses his lips, “Was there no one who he seemed to spend more time with?”

You sigh, exasperated now, “Hoshi, unless Seungcheol is dating me, there was no one else.”

There’s a loud scoff from the other side of Hoshi. Tabitha’s stirring her potion, a look of disgust still on her face. “As if anyone would think you were dating Seungcheol,” she sneers.

Soonyoung and you share a look, silently electing to ignore her. But Tabitha seemed to have other plans today.

“After all, why would Seungcheol want to date someone like you?” Your fingers tighten around the ladle as you continue stirring. Two stirs clockwise, five stirs counter-clockwise.

“You're not much to look at–,” You don’t want anyone to look at you. And certainly not Seungcheol for that matter.

Tabitha continues, “–you have no friends except for that half-wit,” waving a hand at Soonyoung. He puffs up, ready to send a fiery retort back. You shake your head with a small don’t, and he deflates.

“–not to mention, I don't think he'd want damaged goods." You freeze, ladle paused on your fourth and a half counterclockwise stir.

Soonyoung sucks in a breath, and Tabitha’s friend gasps. There’s a buzzing in your ears as your mind goes blank.

They say hindsight's 20-20. You’ll look back on this not being your brightest moment, nor your proudest.

"And what if I was?"

"What?" asks Tabitha, confused.

"And what if I was?" you grit out again. Your ladle’s been abandoned in its cauldron. Hands on your hips, you fully face Tabitha.

Tabitha lets out a laugh as if she can’t believe you, “Was what?”

"Dating Seungcheol" You sound petulant, like a child not getting what they wanted, but you don’t care. A myriad of hexes danced on the tip of your tongue. You don’t even remember picking up your wand. Soonyoung watches, mouth agape and head turning quickly between you two like he’s spectating a quidditch match.

"Fat chance." Tabitha spits out, voice laced with venom.

"Well, I am," you snap. At this point, you have some forethought to whisper, hissing quietly, "I’m Seungcheol's girlfriend."

Soonyoung, however, did not receive the memo, losing all sense of decorum. He shrieks, louder than Moaning Myrtle, his voice echoing through the classroom, ricocheting off the walls, "You're dating Seungcheol?"

Time stops for a moment as a blanket of silence falls over the classroom. All the students stopped talking, and all you can hear is the quiet bubbling of the cauldrons.

Then there’s an uproar as chattering breaks out amongst the students.

Your eyes widen at the realisation of what you'd just said, whipping past Soonyoungs to connect with two equally wide dark brown ones at the front of the classroom.

Soonyoungs hands fly to cover his mouth, having surprised even himself.

He goes to shove your shoulder lightly, as if to ask mate, what the fuck?, and you lose your balance, knocking into the table.

It happens faster than either of you two could react.

The cauldron wobbles before tipping over and spilling itself all over the table and onto your arm.

You yelp as the lavender potion bubbles over your robe sleeves, seeping through the fabric and onto your skin. Squeezing your eyes, you cry out. The pain’s searing as the unfinished potion burns through the top layer of your skin.

Soonyoung starts panicking. "Augmenti! Augmenti!" he wails, but the water spurts out of his wand in all directions but onto you. Tears gather in your eyes as you start to see white, and you can feel your head beginning to pound as the pain takes over.

Suddenly, someone is guiding you. Two firm hands lead you around the table and out of the classroom, one on your back, and the other helping to hold your arm up. You let yourself be blindly led down the corridor as tears stream down your face, letting out sobs as the pain in your arm increases.

Your unknown saviour gently pushes you along, all the way to the infirmary.

They sit you down on what you assume is one of the hospital beds as Madam Pomfrey rushes over, immediately fussing over your injury. She conjures up a salve for the burn and forces a tonic down your throat for the pain, or your nerves, you weren’t sure.

Soon after, the pain starts to dull and the tears begin to slow. You hiccup from the crying, slowly rocking in your seat.

Feeling better, you turn to thank your classmate, who you were clearly traumatising and would probably never be able to face ever again, only to be met with the worried doe eyes of Seungcheol Choi. You don’t know why, but it makes you crumble and your eyes start to well with tears again, lower lip trembling intensely and threatening to let out a low pitched wail.

Seungcheol falters. "Hey, hey, it's okay, you're okay," he reassures you with the softest voice you'd ever heard him use. "Does it still hurt? I can go get more salve from Madam Promferey." He made to get up, but you shook your head vigorously, not wanting an audience for what was seemingly going to be your downfall.

He seems to hesitate for a moment before asking, carefully, "Is it maybe what Soonyoung was yelling about? Before the accident?" This only sets off your waterworks once more, and you start blubbering.

"I don't know why, o-or how. It just came out. I swear, I didn't mean–oh merlin, if I could take it back–don't know what I was thinking–" You start to hyperventilate, your chest heaving up and down, breathing becoming ragged.

"Hey! Hey, it's alright," He was rubbing your back now, in a soothingly slow up-and-down motion. You'd almost forgotten his hand was even there. "I'm not mad. I promise I'm not mad."

Seungcheol was too nice. Much too kind. It only made you cry harder though. What were you thinking?! Telling Tabitha you were dating Seungcheol. Where did that even come from? If you weren't absolutely positive Seungcheol was not currently dating anyone, you'd feel doubly dreadful about what you'd done.

Rumours spread like wildfire in this godforsaken school.

You hear the class bell go off and your stomach drops. There was no stopping it now. Your classmates would move on to their next class, and a few minutes of passing time would be all it takes for everyone else to find out what had happened. You know Seungcheol knows this, yet here he was, still being so sweet to you.

Maybe it’s because he knew. Knew that when you'd eventually have to reveal the truth, you wouldn’t be able to even lift your head at this school for the rest of the year.

Your lower lip still trembles, but you’d reduced your blubbering to just quiet sniffles now. You take this moment to glance at Seungcheol, who’s still rubbing softly at your back. It was surprisingly soothing. Any other time, it would've made you flinch, moving as far away from him as possible. Worry fills Seungcheol's big brown eyes, his eyebrows intensely furrowed.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. Seungcheol begins to pat softly at your back, like he’s calming a baby, and he pauses for a moment.

"Hmm, what’s that?"

You cast your eyes away before saying with a hiccup, "I-I'm sorry." You use your good arm to wipe away at your runny nose and your tear-streaked face.

He hums, thumb softly stroking you.

"What if–," Seungcheol takes a deep breath, as if what he was about to say was the most important thing you'd ever hear.

“What if,” He starts again, ”I had a mutually beneficial proposition?"

You whip your head to face him, furrowing your brows in confusion.

Seungcheol takes another deep breath, as if bracing himself. "Look, you're a reasonable girl, I'm a reasonable guy. You look like maybe you need some downtime from the Whistler, and I would love it if my, ah . . . admirers, would get off my back for two seconds so I could focus on what really matters."

"What really matters?" You shake your head in disbelief, eyes widening, "And how do you know about–"

"Quidditch," Seungcheol cuts you off, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. "Also, you and Soonyoung are not nearly as subtle or discreet as you guys think you are," he says with a small knowing smile. A faint dimple creases his cheek.

He runs his free hand through his hair, "Look, I need to focus on school this year, you understand that better than anyone." You did, 12 N.E.W.T.s were no joke.

The only problem is, Seungcheol is starting to sound a lot like Soonyoung before one of his schemey schemes.

You narrow your eyes at Seunghceol, the same way you would if you were with Soonyoung, "What exactly is this proposition of yours?"

Seungcheol clears his throat before revealing his earth-shattering proposition.

"Let's date."

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol fluff #choi seungcheol #title: jump then fall #au: hogwarts #au: hp #daisee.writes #seventeen hogwarts #band: seventeen #member: seungcheol

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ablobwhowrites · 10 months ago

Note

Since requests are open, may I ask for something for a Demoman!Reader with a Yandere team? The idea of Reader being absolutely DESTROYED on alcohol while trying to hit an enemy soldier that's right in front of him (and missing repeatedly) while his entire team is just watching silently while their brains just goes "Ohhh I can't not fuck him" like that one Neiil Cicierega comic lol.

Demo!Reader: Is pussy...just a myth?

Medic, who was tending to his injuries: ...what?

Demo!Reader, getting dragged away by his team's Pyro: Yer arse's arse and I'm the grass man, punk!

The Enemy!Sniper on the other side of the gate: 🧍????

Demo!Reader, clinging to "Soldier" desperately while crying on the crook of his neck: *sobs* Everyone thinks I'm just a- *sobs* one-eyed bloody monster God damn it! *crying*

The Enemy Spy disguised as Reader's Soldier, trying to decide what the fuck is he feeling rn: 👁️_👁️

Demo m/n: “like sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t drink..”

Blue demoman: “you realize your kidnapped in blue territory right?”

M/n: “I am?”

Demo m/n: “oh this is fantastic pyro” *m/n is holding what pyro sees as a flower crown but is actually organs he took from someone on the battlefield*

Pyro: *hmph, hmph, hmph* ‘okay, wear it!’

M/n: “…I know I have to but I kinda don’t wanna”

Medic assistant M/n: “god, these willie wonky bars are terrible this is my fifth one”

scout: “why? I heard it’s the best chocolate around”

Medic assistant m/n: “don’t know, it just taste paper yet hard? Let me che-“ *it’s a half eaten golden willie wonka ticket* “oooohh shit, that’s why the other four didn’t taste good”

Medic assistant m/n: "I should have stayed in college, I could have graduated by now"

Medic: "oh trust me, you'll still be here even after college"

Demo m/n and medic assistant m/n definitely watches MLP friendship is magic with pyro

(If robots had teeth would be considered grillz?)

#yandere x male reader #x male reader #yandere x you #yandere male x male reader #x gn reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x reader #yandere tf2 #yandere team fortress 2 #yandere shitpost

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darkbluekies · 1 month ago

Note

I loved joining in on the insanity! I finally had somewhere to put my thoughts! Lmao

And go ahead with putting your spin on it. I'd love to see it :D

Okay bare with me here. I'll try not to go over board

Being a late transfer student in itself is a golden ticket to stand out. You could count the other transfer students — in history — on one hand. You're not sure if that's something to be loud about or keep to yourself. But, nonetheless, it hasn't been awful. Between all the stares, magical wonders and whatever else is going on inside Hogwarts' stone walls, there has been one rock making sure you haven't ended up in the hospital wing. Hedwig. A girl the same age in the same house who will sell her arm before she's upset anyone and is normally in an arm's reach.

Your other two friends, two Slytherin students in your year, always seem to find you at the most inappropriate times. Always there to mess with you. Jerry, a girl who you're sure will get herself killed in a duel one day is always quick witted and her shadow, Silas, is the biggest mystery you've ever met. His pitch black eyes always seem to look past the one he's eyeing, always looking deep into their soul.

You don't get how the very time you need them the most, it's the only time they aren't around. Gryffindors should be brave, you tell yourself, yet they're cowardly enough to gang up on you — in their eyes, a helpless little Hufflepuff — when you're all alone. It's often words, and they're easy to dismiss. You never tell hedwig, Jerry or Silas, knowing that it will only make thigns spiral. Especially with Jerry and Silas. Hearing the familiar screech of a cat makes your stomach turn and before you've realised it, your feet have moved towards it. As if someone else controls you, you see yourself throw yourself at them, your voice screaming words you never thought that you would utter.

A crowd gathers around you but it's first when someone grabs the back of your neck, pulling you away from the bloody student when you realize that people from all ages have stopped to watch. It's Jerry who's grabbed you.

"Come", she mutters and pulls you with her through the crowd.

You can barely hear her, but you can tell by her face that she's scared out of her mind. Silas and Hedwig waits a few feet away and are quick to grab your arms to pull you away away from the crowd.

"What were you thinking?" Silas pants as you run.

"None of it is mine", you breathe out, looking down at your bloody hands. "I'm okay. I'm okay."

Your knees buckle and you fall out of Silas's and Hedwig's grip. Your hands leave bloody handprints on the floor.

"What are you doing?" Jerry breathes out and runs her hand through her black hair. "Why did you do that?"

"They hurt her."

"Who?" Hedwig asks with a trembling voice.

"Kitty ... oh, my kitty ..."

The three students look at each other.

"How the fuck do we do so that the teachers not expell them?" Jerry sighs out.

"I'll take care of it", Silas says. "Hedwig, you'll come with me, okay?"

The girl nods quickly.

#yandere #yandere ocs #female yandere #menacetosocietyy

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c-e-d-dreamer · 1 year ago

Text

Baby, Now We Got Bad Blood

A/N: So, we're told in ACOMAF and ACOWAR that mating instincts ride the males hard and that you should never come between a male and his mate, but one of my biggest gripes with ACOSF is that we never really see that from Cassian. Like come on, SJM! I want to see the Lord of Bloodshed go into Mate Mode(tm)! And so, I decided to write this. I recognize it may not be everyone's cup of tea, so remember that the back button is free, but for everyone else, enjoy! :)

Read on AO3

The tug between Cassian’s ribs is so sudden, so harsh, that he almost drops to his knees right then and there. That golden thread securely tucked there squeezes tight enough that it steals the breath straight from his lungs, twisting and writhing in his chest until he can do nothing except press a palm against his side in hopes of alleviating the pain, until he's sure that he must be bruised. He’s half aware of Devlon watching him curiously, of the other camp lords still sitting around the table, but all Cassian can focus on is the way his blood has run cold, on the ringing that’s taken up home in his ears all from that one tug.

Tentatively, he reaches for the golden thread within himself, sending his confusion and concern down the bond. He skates a finger along it, keeping his touch featherlight, before he plucks, a small, urging question. And then, with bated breath, he waits. Waits for the tug in response. Waits for the soothing feeling that’s not his own to rush through him and calm his worry.

But it never comes.

In fact, there’s almost nothing on the other end of the bond. Just silence. Just an empty, yawning void that has the hairs on the back of Cassian’s neck standing up, that has the pounding in his ears turning into a deafening roar. Genuine fear sparks through his veins, ice cold where it digs its claws into his mind and sends his heart stuttering. He reaches for that golden thread again, tugging more urgently this time, but still nothing.

Something’s wrong.

Cassian knows that Rhys had sent Nesta and Mor to the human lands on some sort of reconnaissance mission. Azriel’s network had gotten some concerning information through the vine, so the High Lord sent Nesta and Mor to blend in with the women of some village and see if they could get more details. It was supposed to be an easy in, easy out mission. He’d even arranged this war meeting in Illyria for when she was gone so he’d be back in time to welcome her home, even had tickets ready for them for the Velaris ballet.

But now, all he has is a silent bond, that single moment of fear twined in that hard tug that festers and burns with his own.

Without a backward glance, Cassian storms out of the room, ignoring Devlon calling after him. As soon as he steps outside into the biting snow of Illyria, Cassian unfurls his wings wide behind his back and takes to the skies. He keeps a hard and fast pace as he tears through the clouds, pushing himself and pushing himself and pushing himself. His back and wings ache with the exertion, but it’s nothing compared to the ache that throbs in his chest like an open wound. Nothing compared to the bloodied and bruised shreds of his heart at the thought of something happening to Nesta.

His mind keeps playing an endless loop of possibilities, each one worse than the last. He tries to imagine a scenario where it’s all a big misunderstanding, where he arrives back in Velaris and Nesta is there with that softness that takes over her stormy blue eyes when she sees him, with that sweet smile meant only for him, and they’ll laugh about this whole thing. But there’s no denying that niggling doubt, those whispers in the back of his mind. They fuel his fear, taunt him, and soon all Cassian can see each time he blinks is the sight of Nesta’s eyes open but unseeing, the color completely leached from her face, seared on the back of his eyelids.

It drives Cassian to push himself even harder, to fly even faster. Each beat of his wings, each thunderous hammer of his heart, it all pounds in time with that twisting thread between his ribs, in time with that call that blazes through his soul.

Nesta Nesta Nesta

He lands hard enough that his knees groan and ache, but he doesn’t care. He presses his hand against the wards, an incessant flash of red sparking in front of him, and steps inside the River House. Rhys steps into the view at the top of the stairs almost as soon as he’s through the front door, as though he was expecting him. The wariness pinching the corner of his brother’s eyes, the way his lips are pressed into a thin line, it confirms all of Cassian’s worst fears. Bile claws up the back of his throat, tangling with the lump already lodged firmly there.

“Where’s Nesta?” Cassian forces out.

“Cass…” Rhys starts slowly, holding his hands up placatingly. Cassian doesn’t miss the way his brother shifts his feet, resetting his stance like he’s expecting a fight.

Cassian is about to ask his question again when Madja comes bustling into the River House behind him, rushing up the stairs and past Rhys. The sight of the healer jolts Cassian into action, and he follows hot on her heels down the hall and into one of the bedrooms, but his steps stutter to a stop when he realizes it’s Mor sprawled across the blankets, holding her hand against a wound in her side.

Cassian whirls back around, ready to check every other bedroom until he finds his mate, but he comes face to face with Rhys again. His brother is still wearing that cautious expression, face still pinched and body still tense like Cassian is some sort of wounded animal he needs to treat with care.

“Where is Nesta?” Cassian demands again.

Rhys holds his ground and raises his chin, his eyes glancing over Cassian’s shoulder only briefly before landing back on Cassian’s face. “There was an ambush. I don’t know how the mortals knew we’d be there, knew who Mor and Nesta were, but there were two dozen of them… with ash arrows.”

“That didn’t answer my question. Where is she?”

“When I got there, Mor was already badly injured. She was going to bleed out if I didn’t get her out of there and to a healer.”

Cassian can feel his patience hanging on by a thread, stepping closer to Rhy and growling out, “where is my mate?”

Cassian feels the press of Rhys’s magic against him, the darkness that begins to creep and rumble from the corners of the room, as Cassian stares his brother down, but Rhys is unmoving, undeterred. He continues to meet Cassian’s blazing gaze, his face and voice an even calm that grates against the last shreds of Cassian’s nerve endings, the last of his sanity.

“I had to make a choice, and I made it.”

It takes a moment for the words to really sink in, to understand exactly what Rhys is telling him, and when it does, it’s a bucket of ice water over his head. He stumbles back a step in his shock. His stomach roils and drops all the way to his shoes, his blood crystalizing into ice, as he chokes out, “what?”

Rhys looks away then, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “I used too much of my magic winnowing there already, and Nesta was too far away. I couldn’t get to her without risking Mor, without risking both of us, so I did what I had to do and winnowed us out of there.”

Cassian doesn’t think he’s breathing. He’s sure that his heart isn’t beating because it’s lost somewhere in the human lands, lost with Nesta. “You…” Cassian swallows hard, finding his voice again. “You left her there? In the middle of an ambush?”

“I’m sorry, Cass. I really am.”

“No, you’re not.”

And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? Cassian has always known that Rhys isn’t exactly Nesta’s biggest fan. From the moment they met the sisters, from that first meeting at the manor in the mortal lands, Rhys has always held a certain animosity for the eldest Archeron. He’s always held onto that cool resentment on Feyre’s behalf for what happened when the sisters were young. And despite what happened with the human queens, despite what Nesta did during the War, despite what she did for Feyre and Nyx, that tension has never quite dissipated, that contempt is still there.

“If you were really sorry, why didn’t you go back for her?” Cassian continues, shaking his head in disbelief. “After you got Mor back to Velaris, why didn’t you go back?”

Rhys sighs as if this whole conversation is exhausting. “I just told you. My magic was depleted by winnowing that far, and they had ash arrows. I couldn’t risk it.”

“But you could risk Nesta, right?”

Cassian can feel his disbelief at this whole situation quickly morphing into anger. He can feel the heat of it just beneath his skin where it blazes through his veins. The beast deep within his soul thrashes against its restraints, hackles raised at the idea of any harm coming to Nesta. That rage burns and roars as it twists in dark, crackling tendrils in his chest. It urges him to fight, to raze the whole world to the ground until the debt is paid, until all of Prythian understands the mistake of risking the Lord of Bloodshed’s mate.

“It’s what she would have wanted,” Rhys continues, still using that too calm voice. “You know that. Nesta understood the mission, the importance.”

“Don’t you dare!” Cassian snaps, stepping forward again until he and Rhys are toe to toe, glowering down at him. “Don’t you dare speak of her when you left her to die.”

“Calm down,” Rhys speaks slowly, violet eyes flickering in warning.

“Are you fucking kidding me? What if it was Feyre? What if I left Feyre in the middle of an ambush surrounded by ash arrows? What if I left your mate for dead?”

“Don’t.”

The low tone of Rhys’s voice lets Cassian know he’s hit his mark. That magic and darkness presses a little bit harder, those violet eyes turning cold, clearly unimpressed with the underlying threat toward his mate. Cassian almost wants to laugh hysterically, seeing his own feelings mirrored back to him. It’s a sickening type of vindication.

“That’s the difference, isn’t it?” Cassian continues to drawl, not backing down, the red of his siphons flickering in time with Rhys’s own magic. “I would risk it for Feyre. I would go back for her because I know how much she means to you, but you don’t care. You’ve never forgiven Nesta, not really, and now, you finally got the chance to wash your hands clean of her.”

“Cassian—”

“Where?” Cassian interrupts, taking a step back finally and adjusting the straps of his leathers and preparing for a long flight. “Give me the coordinates. I’ll go get Nesta myself.”

Cassian side-steps around Rhys and heads for the stairs, but Rhys is hot on his heels. “Absolutely not. I’m not letting you fly all the way to the mortal lands and potentially walk head first into an attack.”

“Try and stop me,” Cassian dares, whirling around with a snarl of warning. “Being mated and a father has made you soft, Rhysand. Do you really think you could take me?”

The temperature in the room starts to drop, Cassian’s siphons flaring brighter in response as magic scrapes along his spine. He’s been itching for a fight since the moment he stepped through the doors, instincts gnawing at his every nerve ending and riding him hard until his hands are clenching into fists, his fingers twitching with the urge to drive into Rhys’s face.

But he doesn’t have time for this.

Nesta is gods know where in the mortal lands, in the Mother knows what state, and he needs to get to her. He waited five hundred years for her. Five hundred years to hold her. Five hundred years to love her. And he’ll be damned if he loses her now. Damned if he fails her again. Damned if he doesn’t save her when he wasn’t there to protect her in the first place.

He turns back around and storms down the stairs, striding toward the door without looking back. His blood has already started to thunder again, that same beat of Nesta Nesta Nesta as he stretches his wings to warm them up.

“Cassian, stop,” Rhys calls after him, but Cassian merely rolls his eyes. “I am ordering you as your High Lord.”

Cassian can feel the magic of the order as it slinks across his skin, taste it on the back of his tongue, but he’s quick to shake it off with a scoff, yanking open the front door. “Fuck off.”

“You step out that door, you won’t be welcome back in this Court.”

Cassian turns over his shoulder, settling Rhys with a deathly cold look. “Good luck finding a new General then.”

Rhys looks genuinely taken aback by that, blinking a few times in surprise. “You’d really throw away everything you’ve worked so hard for? Everything you’ve ever wanted?”

“Nesta is everything I’ve ever wanted. And you knew that. And you still—” Cassian can’t choke the word out, can’t fathom a world where Nesta, his Nesta, his beautiful, smart, amazing mate is gone.

A world where Rhys killed her.

With one last shake of his head, Cassian steps out of the River House and onto the streets of Velaris, the door slamming behind him. It feels strange and wrong to step onto these streets knowing Nesta isn’t here. Knowing that her quiet steps won’t fill the bookshop in the Rainbow. Knowing that her soft laughter won’t fill her favorite bakery by the river. That fear from before grips Cassian tight enough that his steps almost stumble, but he stretches his wings out wide behind him nonetheless, siphons flaring in anticipation.

He’s going to get her back. Even if it’s the last thing he does.

—

Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @girl-of-many-floods @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head

#nessian #technically at least #cassianappreciationweek2023 #cassian #rhysand #acotar #acosf #my fic

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artisiumstudios · 3 months ago

Text

CHAPTER 1 SUCKAS

You Make Hell Tolerable

Chapter 1: Hey ma, I can’t call for a while

The car drove slowly around the icy curve, the rails on the side covered in dents and scratches. Some of them were broken off. Getting into a car accident would not be ideal to say the least. Especially right now. Stanley tapped his fingers nervously around the steering wheel, trying his hardest to control his ragged breaths. Just a few hours ago he had been lounging around his motel room– the first motel room he had been able to afford in months– when he had received it. A postcard from Gravity Falls Oregon with the words “Please Come!” scribbled on the back. Without even looking at who the sender was, he had already known who the postcard was from. He had copied off that handwriting for almost 13 years. In a flash he had packed the belongings he felt were important and had driven off into the snowy roads.

“Get yourself together Stan, this is what you've been waiting for,” he glanced over to his passenger seat, knowing that underneath all the food containers and failed lottery tickets laid the picture of two sweaty teenage boys with smiles as they cheered arm in arm. “It’s only your brother. Your twin brother, it’s no big deal. You know he’s just your brother. The one who let you get kicked out of- no. I'm not going down that road, I'm NOT going to hold onto any resentment. I screwed him over. I did this to myself.”

Stan quickly wiped his sweaty palms on his jacket, his pep talk doing nothing to ease his nervousness. He grimaced as he felt the soft texture of the jacket become rough for a second, the bloody stains –both his own and of others– and other various stains from these last few months being the reason his jacket was rough and peeling in places. Not to mention that he hadn't had a chance to wash half of his clothes in a hot minute, he was sure it was becoming a health hazard. Maybe he should make a quick pit stop at a laundromat, he couldn’t have the first time he was seeing his brother in 10 years be with a jacket that was probably growing a new type of mold on it, a bloodied shirt, and pants that were far too stiff for his own liking. Not only was his clothing disgusting physically, but he was sure that the smell he was emitting was any better. Sure he had finally managed to shower before he left the motel but that didn’t really matter if his clothing weren’t in a similar condition. At the red stoplight he quickly pulled out his wallet. 10 dollars. A sigh left his lips as he returned his wallet pack into his glove compartment. Well now he had a couple of choices. Either he could go to the laundromat and just save the rest of his money for gas but that meant he wouldn’t be able to eat unless he went to a grocery store and “borrowed” some food. But even then he wasn’t sure that even with the money he would have left over that it would be enough to even get him halfway to his destination. Sweet Moses, what was he doing? He could barely afford to keep himself alive and now he was driving half way across the country just cause his brother sent him a postcard. After ten years of silence, after getting the curtains shut on him and being kicked out over one stupid mistake he was really going to help Ford? He could barely help himself, how was he supposed to help Ford? He wasn’t smart, he was anything but smart. He was useless. Worthless. He ruined everything he touched, he would just ruin this too. He was going to ruin this. He was- He turned the radio on not wanting to spiral down that dark abyss any longer.

You packed in the morning, I stared out the window

And I, struggled for something to say

You left in the rain without closing the door

I didn’t stand in your way

But I miss you more than I, missed you before

Stanley groaned, what a cheesy song, although it did sound familiar. He turned the radio down trying to recall where he had heard that song before. Passing an old pawn shop the memory of a woman in a red dress and golden hoop earrings humming softly in a small kitchen while she prepared lunch for three little boys resurfaced. Ma had always been the sentimental type who often thought that little moments like those were the ones that mattered. Whether it was listening to music while cooking, or looking outside the pawns window watching as people walked by while waiting for a call. Although, now he understood what she meant. Stanley had started enjoying the small moments, they were the ones where he could finally allow himself to relax and not have to face reality, even if it was for only a few minutes. It was the small moments the ones that had brought him the most comfort in the last 10 years.

Well folks that was the top 50 songs that you can listen to while reminiscing where everything went wrong! This is your host McDazzle and it is January 26 of the year 1982!

Right, it was January. He had to call his mom and Shermie soon. Mostly his mom. Although being on the run meant he shouldn’t leave a trace, he also didn't want to worry his mom.

After Stan had been kicked out he had cried so much, leaving his face blotchy red and puffy for days on end. A horrible mixture of anger, sorrow, and disgust swirled inside him as he waited, as he hoped, that either Ford or his dad came looking for him. After a few days of nothing but the cold silence, he had driven out of New Jersey. Almost two weeks later he decided to call his mom. They were on the phone for 10 minutes before she apologized for letting him get kicked out.

“Maybe it will blow off in a few more days, you know your dad.” her tone was hopeful, optimistic.

But Stan knew his dad. He crossed the line and now he was on his own. He remained silent throughout most of the phone call but assured his mom that he would call often. He kept that promise for the most part, calling at least one a month. At times Shermie would join the conversation, telling Stan everything from what he ate that morning to how his teacher got him and his friend in trouble for passing notes. He enjoyed those calls, they always made him feel lighter and they cleared his mind, even if he couldn’t tell them everything. The months he was stuck in that prison in Colombia had been rough to put it lightly. Actually these last 3 years have been especially rough. Let’s just say Rico made sure he got his part of his pay back. At least the stitches weren’t sloppy.

Finally he passed a billboard, Welcome to Arizona. He made his way to a semi empty parking lot. His car was running low on gas and well, a little siphoning never hurt anyone. Especially if he did want to make it to Oregon without losing all of his money. Looking around he noticed a phone booth outside the small grocery store where he was parked. He quickly rummaged through his car for any spare change. He counted making sure he did in fact have 15 cents and quickly gave one last look around before heading inside the booth. Inside was graffiti varying from drawing of dicks to what appeared to be a muffin? But the one that caught his eye was a small yellow triangle with a tophat. A shiver ran down his spine, it was weird. Something about it rang an alarm in his head, an itch that he couldn't scratch. But why? Ignoring that, and that horrible smell that reminded him of that time he was inside a trunk, he swiftly inserted the coins into the machine and punched the 10 digit number he had memorized since he was 5.

Ring

Ri- CLICK

“That’ll be 99 cents.”

He chuckled, “Wow Ma, not even a discount for your son?”

“Stanley? Oh my god,” she laughed quietly.

“Yup, in the flesh, or I guess in the voice?” He overheard a voice in a background, followed by steps that got louder with every second.

“Oh my god! Hi big bro! How you been old man?”

“Old? I’m only 28 thank you very much,” He snorted before erupting into full laughter, “Geez, I am getting old arent I? Eh but i've been good, how about you squirt? Have you been giving ma shit?”

“Stanley language-”

“Just the normal amount!” The younger pines interrupted, “ But ive been great! You remember that girl I told you about?”

“Uh yeah, the brunette from- what was it, uhhhhh-”

“Yeah! Thats the one! I ASKED HER ON A DATE AND SHE SAID YES!”

“He’s been going out with her for 3 weeks now, they’re practically glued together up to this point.” Stan smiled softly, almost envisioning his mom rolling her eyes before letting her face fall into a small smile with her crow eyes showing ever so slightly. Moses he missed her.

“Proud of you squirt I knew you could do it.”

“Thanks! I was so nervous, you want to hear how I asked her out? Well I had to go buy flowers because well of course she deserves flowers, but when I went to the-”

“Hey, uh, Shermie.” It was his turn to interrupt him this time. “As much as I want to listen to your lovesick ramblings, I gotta head out soon, let me talk to Ma real quick.”

“Booooo LAMEEE.” Shuffling was heard over the phone before settling into a small silence.

“Ma?”

“Yes pumpkin?” Worried laced her voice.

“I, um… Look, I don't think I’ll be able to call for a while. I'm going to be heading out in a few, um I’m…” Should he tell her he’s meeting with Ford? He didn’t like lying to his mom, he never has, but the thought of getting her hopes up for a reunion that could end in heartbreak was too much for him to bear. “Look I'm going to be helping an old pal, I wanted to make sure to tell you before I left because there aren’t really any phones out where we are going. Didn’t want to worry you if it took longer than expected.”

Silence.

She sighed. “You’re lying aren’t you? Stanley I… I’ve been having nightmares, well more like a reoccurring nightmare. It’s you and Ford. It starts off with you two as babies. Everytime I close my eyes you grow up just a bit. And right before I wake up, I close my eyes once more, and when I open them, one of you is missing and the other is a shadow. Stanley, please promise me, you’ll be okay.”

Sorrow laced her voice making Stan’s skin feel like it was being stabbed with tiny frozen needles, his breath caught in throat almost suffocating him. He forced himself to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat.

“I promise ma.”

He had driven for almost a whole day and his body and mind felt exhausted. His mom’s words plagued his mind feeling the anxiety bubble in his stomach, his skin felt numb and cold. Driving became a rather difficult task, and unhappily he pulled over deciding that taking a nap would be rather beneficial.

His dreams consisted of two small boys running towards their mom, both wearing their skin red from the sun and babbling about a forgotten boat that was now theirs.

1 nap later and a quick stop for more gas and another to the laundromat, he was in front of a shack. It looked both brand new and worn down, as if no one had been caring for it. A wooden sign hung outside the door with red painting KEEP OUT. Okay? He hoped he was in the right place, shaking off any remaining nerves as he made his way to the door.

“Okay, moment of truth.” He knocked.

At first there was silence, followed by cursing and frantic shuffling. He straightened himself out. Finally the knob turned.

“WHO IS IT? HAVE YOU COME TO STEAL MY EYES?”

A crossbow was shoved in Stan’s face. He gasped as he leaned away, capturing the aggressor's face. He recognized the features on his face as his own, apart from the bloodshot eyes and overgrown patchy beard, he could still recognize Ford.

“Well, I can always count on you for a warm welcome.”

“Stanley?” Ford lowered his crossbow and adjusted his glasses, studying Stan’s face. His eyes softened slightly as he recognized his twin. But it only lasted for a second. He pulled Stan inside as he flashed a light into his eyes. “Did anyone follow you? Anyone at all? Does anyone know you were coming here?”

“I-UGH HEY, what is this?” Stan pushed Ford stumbling lightly as his vision came back. “Ugh I- you know what it doesn’t matter, no I wasn’t followed.”

Ford relaxed, letting his shoulder hang as he let out a breath. “Sorry! I just had to make sure-uh. It’s nothing.”

Ford clutched his trench coat as he waved Stanley down further into his house. Papers littered almost every surface of the house along with various cups filled with brown liquid that gave the stench of coffee. Machinery was placed around what he presumed was the living room with various numbers and letters displaying on the screen. One of them had a triangular prism, another one appeared to just show an electrical current.

“Look, you're gonna explain what's going on here? You're acting like mom after her tenth cup of coffee.” Stanley exclaimed as he followed Ford up to his desk. He saw him look through some papers collecting a few pages and what appeared to be a hardcover red book.

“Listen there isn’t much time,” Ford turned around walking past Stanley, his voice laced with worry and exhaustion, one Stan himself was too familiar with. “I’ve made huge mistakes, and I don't know who I can trust anymore.

Stans eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Hey easy there.” He placed what he hoped would be perceived as a reassuring hand on Ford’s shoulder, “Let’s talk this through, okay?”

“I have something to show you, something you won’t believe.”

“Look I've been around the world, okay? Whatever it is, I'll understand.” Well world was an understatement and saying been could be better said as chased but that was a different story for another time. Ford looked sick, exhausted, on the verge of breaking. It was unsettling.

“There is nothing about this that I understand.”

Yes Stanley had never been the smart twin, or just smart period. But this? It looked like it came straight out of one of his old superhero comics. Like one of those where the hero has to stop a doomsday device that the villain of the story was creating to end all of humanity. And this was-it was, well it was something. It looked like a machine, its purpose unknown to Stan. The centerpiece was a huge upside triangle with bright blue symbols marked throughout the circular center it, what appeared to be circular beams receding on the sides. In front of it was a handle with a bright red button. He felt the little alarm in his brain go off once more.

“It’s a trans-universal gateway,” Ford explained, “a punched hole through a weak spot in our dimension. I created it to unlock the mysteries of the universe. But it could just as easily be harnessed for terrible destruction.”

Well guess I wasn’t that far off. Stanley though to himself.

Ford brought the book from earlier up to eye view. “That's why I shut it down and hid my journals, which explain how to operate it. There is only one journals left.” Ford walked up to Stanley, now clutching the journal with both his shaky hands. “And you are the only person I can trust to take it.”

He handed the journal over to Stan, who observed it with thoughtful eyes. The red leather felt rough against his fingers, in the center was a six fingered golden hand with the number 1 written on it with blank ink. It looked worn out. This was Ford’s research. And he was trusting Stanley with it. He still trusted him, even after all this time.

“I have something to ask of you.” Stan looked at him with hopeful eyes, “Remember our plans to sail the world on a boat?”

Oh? OH! This was it, everything Stanley had wanted. A smile broke on his face hope filling his body. Finally after all these years he was getting his brother back, even after messing up and being nothing but a burden he now had the chance to make up for it. He would help Stanford and now he would get to fulfill his dreams of traveling with his brother, his best friend!

“Take this book, get on a boat and sail as far away as you can. To the edge of the earth. Bury it where no one can find it” Ford turned his back and walked away.

His hope was immediately shattered, now replaced with raw anger. Of course. THIS is what he should've expected, THIS was Ford’s style, not a sappy family reunion that Stan had been hoping for. Of course he would only be useful to Ford if it meant getting him as far away as possible. He felt himself explode.

“That's IT?!” You finally want to see me after ten years and it’s to tell me to get as far away from you as possible?”

“Stanley, you don’t understand what I'm up against. What I've been through!”

“No no you don't understand what I've been through. I’ve been to prison in three different countries. I once had to chew my way out of a trunk of a car. You think you've got problems? I’ve got a mullet Stanford!” That last one sounded petty, but he understood the meaning of being too broke, too unable to even afford a haircut. But he doubted his brother would even understand. He was tired, oh so deeply tired, anxious, and devastated. “Meanwhile where have you been, living it up in your fancy house in the woods! Selfishly hoarding your college money because you only care about yourself!”

“I'm selfish? I'M selfish, Stanley? How can you say that after costing me my dream school! I’m giving you the chance to do the first worthwhile thing in your life and you won’t even listen!”

Stan felt his chest tighten, thinking about his worthlessness was one thing, but hearing it come out of the one person who you had always hoped cared even just a tiny bit was just agonizing. He felt that numbness from earlier return to his fingers, his eyes stung with tears that he would not allow to fall, a lump formed inside his throat. Maybe he should’ve listened and gotten out of there when Ford told him to, but of course, everything he does always leads to failure. Fuck it, it was too late to go back now.

“Well listen to this.” He pulled out his lighter “You want me to get rid of this book? Fine, I’ll get rid of it right now.” He held the flame right underneath the book, but two hands came pulling the book away from the flame. Stanley kept his grip tightly on the journal still having the lighter on in his other hand.

“NO! You don’t understand!” Fear flashed over Ford’s face, but it was too late for Stanley to care.

“You said you wanted me to have it so I’ll do what I want with it!. "Stan yanked the book holding it up against the flame once more.

“My research!”

Ford tackled Stan causing both of them to fall. The lighter fell next to Stan while the journal skidded across the floor towards their feet. Stan quickly swiped his lighter, placing it in his pocket. He turned around seeing Ford standing to get to his Journal. Stan pushed his foot out causing Ford to trip and land on his face. Stan stood up and ran grabbing the journal and heading towards the door.

“STANLEY GIVE IT BACK!” He felt himself once again being pushed, this time his back hit the metal door causing them to fall inside.

He landed over a control panel hearing some whirring come to life.

“You want it back? You’re going to have to try harder than that!” Stanley pushed against his brother's face, both falling against the floor once more. “You left me behind, you jerk! It was supposed to be us forever. You ruined my life! “ His voice was raw, croaking as he tried to hold back his tears. He continued to tug at the journal.

“YOU RUINED YOUR OWN LIFE!” Ford’s foot shot out pressing against his chest, he felt as his jacket burned off as hot searing pain made its way onto his right shoulder. Stanley screamed, his mind went blank, black dots spread throughout his vision, and he felt a coldness wash over his body. The smell of burned skin filled the room. Ford's foot finally stopped pressing against his skin.

“Stanley! Oh my gosh I’m so sorry!” Knuckles connected to his face as pain was replaced by adrenaline. Stan got up clutching his shoulder, picking up the journal from where Ford had dropped it. He walked past him looking at the machine that was now swirling with life.

“Some brother you turned out to be. You care more about some dumb mysteries than your family. Ten years of silence, you didn’t care about anyone but yourself. Not until you needed something” He turned back to face his brother, his face contoured in anger. “Was I just a pawn in your game, sixer?”

“Don’t- DON’T CALL ME THAT” Ford pushed his brother once again landing on the floor with the amount of force he used.

Stan felt himself being lifted into the air. His body felt weightless, a force was pulling him back and he screamed.

“FORD- STANFORD WHAT’S GOING ON?”

“STANLEY- oh no no no NO!” Ford tried to stand up only to be caught in the wiring. Hands shook as he attempting to detangle himself he looked up as his twin got closer to the to the portal.

“STANFORD HELP ME! PLEASE, STANFORD HELP ME-” he fell through the portal. In an instant everything turned white. A shock wave caused Ford to land on his back as his brother's cries were drowned out.

Mechanical whirring eased to a stop. Screams were silenced.

Everything was silent.

Edit: forgot to include this lol (also I was in class when I drew this so ignore some of the notes lol)

#bill cipher #gravity falls #gravity falls au #reverseportalau #stanford pines #stanley pines #dipper pines #mabel pines #billford #the billford comes later #homeless Stanley pines #fanart #stanley fanart

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imsiriuslyreading · 1 year ago

Text

(some of) my top favourite wolfstar fics

Alright listen. This list is subject to change (by change i mean grow). I've already forgotten to add about 7 that I can think of, but in the meantime. here are some of my absolute favourite wolfstar fanfics ever in life. ENJOY, if you ever wanna chat about them hit me up because I live for this sh*t.

Okay i'm gonna do a part 2 aslkdjalskdjalskdjalkdjs there's too many

All The Young Dudes, mskingbean89 https://archiveofourown.org/works/10057010/chapters/22409387M: THE FIC OF ALL FICS. This is possibly the best thing I've ever read. Grant Chapman is the love of my life I shant hear a word against him.

Blends, rvltn909 https://archiveofourown.org/works/7869079?view_full_work=true M: The banter in this is next level. the dialogue. SIRIUS BLOODY BLACK. This is why my relationship ended i swear to god, if it's not this i don't wannit

Sweater Weather, lumosinlove https://archiveofourown.org/works/20750912?view_full_work=true E: The ultimate comfort reread. I adore the side characters in this, James potter is SENSATIONAL. I love love love it. OH THERES SO MUCH FRENCH

Dear Your Holiness, mollymarymarie https://archiveofourown.org/works/35105491?view_full_work=true E: FATHER BLOODY LUPIN I AM ON MY KN..nvm. Anyway. The texting? the tension? oh holy god forgive me for the sins i have sinned

The Cadence of Part Time Poets, Motswolo https://archiveofourown.org/works/30652973/chapters/7562717M: I cannot tell you how much i love this. the writing is sensational, the characterisations, the OC's. I am so BESOTTED WITH THIS STORY. its such ATYD vibes but muggle. I haven't even finished and its gone straight to my top 3 ever in life

Honey if I'm not, BrigidFaye https://archiveofourown.org/works/35165827/chapters/87616873M: Part 1 - REMUS POV It's so beautiful. its the healing we all deserve, the healing THEY DESERVE. in my head? canon. I am forever besotted.

If You're Gonna, BrigidFaye https://archiveofourown.org/works/40008948/chapters/100193058 M: Part 2 - SIRIUS POV. This one might even be better than part 1. sirius pov is stunning. plus a lil spicy spice. Its just such a gorgeous read.

Currents, lunchbucket https://archiveofourown.org/works/19109890?view_full_work=true E: Olympic swimmers? golden boy remus? THE DOG? HOZIERRRR? Yes

Liebestrum, lunchbucket https://archiveofourown.org/works/19891189?view_full_work=true E: The most beautifully written love story. It's stunning from start to finish. I want to climb sirius black.

The Road Not Taken, mollymarymarie https://archiveofourown.org/works/32734837?view_full_work=true#main E: Such a good comfort read; 2nd chances, private concerts and lusty chocolates.

Ever Thus, WrappedUp https://archiveofourown.org/works/22331551?view_full_work=true E: I adore this. Their connection is beautiful. So blooooody well written. The love and care within this are just next level.

Just What the doctor ordered, WrappedUp https://archiveofourown.org/works/26677921?view_full_work=true E: This is soooo witty! I adored it. Sirius inner monologue is bloooody hilarious, honest and RAW. adore this one.

wading in waist-high water, colgatebluemintygel https://archiveofourown.org/works/36896740?view_full_work=true E: This is so sweet! Utterly a delicious read. Basically no angst, just happy vibes.

10 Reasons to go to Michigan, greyeyedmonster18 https://archiveofourown.org/works/35820094/chapters/89320903 M: The most lovely Sirius. Him & Harry dynamic is perfect. Teenage hilarious Harry. Grumpy Remus. Artsy Sirius

Not another band AU, thelovelyzee https://archiveofourown.org/works/34565698?view_full_work=true E: I LOVE THIS. The playlist is UNREAL. It was SUCH A JOURNEY. I never wanted it to end. Bought so many concert tickets after this.

A Black Mass Over Highway Ninety, Greenvlvetcouch https://archiveofourown.org/works/43038561/chapters/108147531 E: This changed my life. THIS CHANGED MY LIFE. the playlist. the love. the friendship. the side jily. the SMUT. oh my god. the most gorgeously written masterpiece i've CLAPPED EYES ON. i want to inject it into my EYEBALLS.

Solntse, lumosinlove https://archiveofourown.org/works/17186087?view_full_work=true E: Okay. it's giving pretty woman. but like, in a good way, i promise. the best way. like i adore sirius in this so much. so so so so much. its a beautiful little story - look out for the pet names muahahaha

#wolfstar #wolfstar fic recs #remus lupin #is the love of my life #the marauders #muggle au #wolfstar list #sirius black in blends is my man #also in solntse #and also in 10 reasons #babe #remus lupin in black mass changed me chemically we don't need to talk about it #babybird me #liebestraum #liebestraum doesn't get enough love its one of the best things I've ever read actually #lanas list #lanas crying again

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sitp-recs · 1 year ago

Note

heyo!! been loving the super specific rec lists youve been making lately :)

do you have favorite fics that include riding! as in. riding cock. bonus points if there’s good dirty talk about it. don’t care who’s on who as long as it is HOT! but obv i love drarry most. hope this is fun!

An ask after my own heart 🥹 thank you for the delicious request anon, here are some fics with memorable riding scenes imho. This reminded me of my fave Starker PWP but that’s neither here nor there so I’ll keep this short & Drarry. I hope you enjoy! 🔥

Move by @shealwaysreads (829 words)

“Come on, fuck yourself on it. I won’t make it move until you do.”

You Either Fuck or You Get Fucked by @fw00shy (2k)

"That's not how fucking works. Fucking's…" Draco waved a hand in the air. "You either fuck or you get fucked." "Sure," Harry said. He took out a Sickle. "Toss for it?"

in charge by @bonesliketambourines (2.4k)

Draco's bossy. Turns out that extends to the bedroom, too. Harry likes it—a lot.

Mens Rea by @lqtraintracks (E, 3k)

Mens Rea: the mental element of a person's intention to commit a crime; or knowledge that one's action or lack of action would cause a crime to be committed. “Draco Malfoy, how do you plead?” I’m super fucking guilty.

Like Gold by @the-sinking-ship (4k)

Draco runs away from home on the back of his boyfriend’s motorbike.

Catch the Snitch (No, Catch My Heart) by prolix (4.5k)

Draco secretly loved when Harry lost a match.

A Delicate Arrangement by mindabbles (E, 6k)

Harry's learned over time that a delicate touch is sometimes superior to a harsh grip. If he can remember that with Draco, he might solve the case, protect a dozen children, and he may, he may just get what he wants most.

Sexplanations (Of the Horrible Sort) by @bixgirl1 (7k)

Harry's willing to put up with a certain amount of injury, as long as he and Malfoy can keep doing... whatever it is they're doing. Maybe. Mostly. Especially if there might be more to it than sex.

Team Building for Dummies by InnerLilith (E, 7k)

Tensions run high when Harry and Draco are both drafted (as starting Seeker and substitute, respectively) for the English national team ahead of the 2002 World Cup. An impulsive bet on the outcome of a practice game resolves the tension in ways Harry wasn’t expecting.

The Page Eleven Wars by fireflavored (E, 8.5k)

In a gossip-hungry post-war Wizarding World, Rita Skeeter has a wildly successful column in the Daily Prophet known as Page Eleven. Naturally, her favourite targets are the poster boys of the two sides of the war: Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. Bored and annoyed, the two take up tabloid baiting for sport and pleasure.

like a scratch on the roof of your mouth by eleadore (E, 9k)

Two weeks into the new year, Draco Malfoy saves Ron's life in a spectacular fashion.

It's the Love of the Chase (That Created the Ride) by @lqtraintracks (14k)

Draco and Harry are new Auror partners. It's a bit dull. Until they finally see some spell action and things get a lot more interesting (in Draco's pants).

An Act of Kindness for One Harry Potter by a Sympathetic Draco Malfoy by 0idontknow0 (15k)

As Draco leaned on the wall to wait for them to get dressed, he could not help feeling like he had done a very kind thing by disrupting them. Someone should give Potter a better rogering than that sorry sod had. The man had saved the bloody world—okay, mostly Europe—the least someone could do was give him a proper shag.

you look so fine by michi_thekiller (E, 16k)

In which Draco is a Veela and Harry is his mate. Dark!Humor or Crack!Horror, you decide.

Buy A Heart by xErised (E, 17k)

Draco's cock hardens as he looks at the invitation to the charity auction; his golden ticket to one wild night of desperate sex with Potter to get rid of this inexplicable obsession. His heart whispers that one night will never be enough, but Draco is beyond caring. All he knows is that he will pay any price to have Potter over and over again.

White as Snow by @bixgirl1 (19k)

After a quick escape from danger, Harry and Draco find themselves trapped in a blizzard, a small cabin their only refuge from the storm. It's the perfect place to recover and regroup — and to have a long-overdue conversation or two.

Five Weddings and a Potions Accident by lauren3210 (20k)

In which Harry thinks he’s a playboy, everyone else knows better, and Hermione will kill Seamus if Ron tries to collect on that bet.

Waking Up Slow by @sweet-s0rr0w and @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (22k)

'Twas the night before Christmas, although it’s July / Draco’s a shopkeeper, no-one knows why / There’s hiking and witch caves, freak snowfalls and more / Bad Christmas jumpers, nosy neighbours galore / Narcissa’s here too, but… something’s amiss / And what’s in those chocolates that’s making them kiss?

Touch Me Fall by @lqtraintracks (23k)

Malfoy was such a ponce. And he was a complete snob. And he was so fucking fit Harry wanted to jump him where he sat. It would be too easy to forget his objective tonight: to really, really, really get Malfoy out of his system.

In Your Arms, Rests My World by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (24k)

Harry presses his mouth to Malfoy's forehead; he wants to tell him that he’ll never leave, that he wouldn’t dream of it. “You make me feel safe, Potter” Malfoy whispers. “You keep me safe.”

Embers by @shiftylinguini (41k)

Werewolf Alphas aren't meant to be alone, or to suppress their ruts indefinitely like Draco has been since he was bitten eight years ago. He needs company, companionship, to knot ― he needs an Omega Heat Companion. At least, that’s what the Healers say, and even Draco can admit contacting the person they’ve referred him to might be nice.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #riding 🚘

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ultimateaclrecovery · 10 days ago

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Portugal Day 1!

The view from my hotel room is perfection! I am in a cute little attic room (does me three flights of stairs plus a spiral staircase) with a view of the river and city.

I also perfectly timed catching the bus at the airport and was easy to just get my ticket with the bus driver with cash. The flight was fine (although my pasta did sadly have mushrooms in it) and customs was a breeze.

I relaxed in my room for a bit before heading out to wander. First thing I found was a handmade market where I acquired beautiful purple earrings.

And then it was time for my ticket to the Clérigos tower. There were a bunch of museum rooms on the way up and you could see the chapel too. A lot on the history of the tower and general religious things, like the room full of crucifixes which was a little creepy (some were quite bloody) and then also a Picasso room and general art

The view from the top of the tower was great and I caught golden hour and a bit of the sunset orange

And then I wandered a bit more and acquired my first pastel de nata, and it was in fact delicious and I am excited to eat so many more. I also loved that in some places the streets are so hilly that the chairs and tables outside need extenders on one side to be flat.

And then I head to a wine bar where I had veal pies and chocolate cake with a ruby port. And then it was shower bed and asleep by 9.

Overly long travel diary

Day 1!

Finally we were off. I got a blanket and a pillow and tried to sleep as much as possible only waking up for dinner and breakfast. For dinner I got the pasta! Although it had mushrooms and some of it was over reheated and crunchy the middle tortellini were good. And I like the Carmel cake for dessert. I didn’t sleep well but hopefully enough to get through the day. And I finished book one of the trip. Passport control was a breeze (although my stamp is kind of faint :( ), my bag came out pretty quickly, and now doubt at all the my green with painted purple flowers one was mine haha. Customs was not existent. I stopped at an atm and I hope I did it right to get the better conversion and that Charles Shwab will refund the atm fees. My timing for the bus was perfect. I was going to get a transport card but didn’t see a place to do that but was able to just pay cash, 2.50 for the bus fare. And the timing was perfect!

Obsessed with the guy on the bus who got on at the ikea stop with a large rug and nothing else. Love how the bus has a giant screen with the next stop on it.

Easy walk to the hotel and easy breezy up and into my room with key codes. They did put the wrong WiFi password in the email but it was also in the stairwell so all is well. Other than that my hotel room is absolutely perfect. It’s so cute the view is to die and I am so pleased. It even has a mini fridge in it!

I hang out in the room for too long gathering myself and then head out to wander the streets. I find what I think is one of the view points and am underwhelmed (the actual view point is higher and much better)

And then I stumble upon on handyman artisans fair in a cool building. They have so many earring! And many of them are reasonably priced. This is my dream. I get a pair of purple ceramic flowers for 15 euros that smell like perfume. Haven’t even been here an hour and already found my ideal souvenir.

I wander a bit more and head to my timed tickets for the clerigios tower. I am hoping to catch sunset at the top but we’ll see. The museums on the way up are much more extensive than I thought! Many are about the church but there’s also general crucifixes and a piccaso room. I was worried the climb to the tower would be miserable on so little sleep but it was broken up so much that it was totally fine. Got up there just as the sun was beginning to set which I think was perfect. Just the hint of orange and pink in the sky but could still see everything. The ideal golden hour.

They also had to take dorky green screen pictures before going all the way up and they are so kitschy but I still paid ten euros for one anyway haha.

I put my photo back in my hotel (it is so close!) and watch the rest of the sunset from my room with its great view.

I am so sad because the wine bar right next to my hotel is closed on Sundays and the two sandwhich places I was thinking of, are also closed.

But there is another wine bar so I head there. I try my first port, a ruby, and is very good although tastes strong. I have it with veal pie (dinner) and chocolate cake (recommended to go with the port so how could I say no). It’s a little weird to be in a wine bar by myself but there is some fun people watching at least. A little more street wandering and then thankfully to bed. I’m so excited for bed. Showered and in bed by 9.

#Portugal #travel diary #day 1 #look at me almost keeping up #don’t expect it to last #or at least it will get haphazard fast #but this far I am having a magical trip

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blackbat05 · 1 year ago

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Changed Fortune

Adam Warlock x F!Reader (Modern AU)

Plot: You get your heart broken and find yourself reaching out to your closest friend who takes this opportunity to tell you what was on his mind all this while.

Genre: PG-13

A/N: Cheers to Will’s special appearance on ‘The Bear’ as a chef for giving me ideas! Been obsessed with modern au lately. For @the-slumberparty monthly challenge! (Items: Sun Dress, Festival) Reblogs always appreciated!💜

Again.

Why do you always make the worst choices that involved negatively affecting your emotional well-being?

You had just dumped your boyfriend (or ex-boyfriend) after spotting him with a group of girls decked in high end clothing and a cake full of makeup on their faces pressing against him. He had seen you from afar and you find yourself in the middle of a rainy evening, attempting to get away from him.

Body on autopilot, you racked your brain for places to make your getaway. First, you needed a taxi. Praise the stars for once today as a yellow one rolls up the sidewalk. You don’t even bother hearing the rest of his pleas as you slammed the door, telling the driver to take off immediately.

“Where to Miss?” The driver, an elderly man with wispy white hair stares at you through the rear view sympathetically. You pause, trying to figure out the next step. Raindrops hitting the bonnet of the taxi, it was if everything clicked into place.

“The Warlock please.”

***

“There you go, one fish and chips with extra vinegar and salt.” Adam serves the dish to another regular customer who slaps a twenty on the counter.

“One day, you’re going to have to answer to Elsie why I’m out of the house every Thursday evening, rain or shine.” The man receives his change.

“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that Bart. Elsie is a lovely woman but I wouldn’t want to be her enemy. She’s a real firecracker.”

Bart laughs. “That you are right.” He hobbles away, off to find a seat in the crowd. Adam chuckles, cleaning the silverware. A buzz on his thigh alerted Adam of a call. Carefully fishing his phone out with wet hands, he places it on his ear.

“Y/N?”

"Hey." You choked, trying to keep a lid on your emotions. "Sorry, I know you must be busy."

Adam frowns. "It's alright. The crowd's more or less settled in. Are you alright?" Despite talking over the phone, Adam's instincts are as sharp as a razor. Hearing the concern in his voice, you had to take a deep breath to not burst out crying in the taxi. No, you will not cry for a jerk. Instead, you asked. "Do you mind if I come over?"

"Yeah, of course. We got fish and chips today."

"Do you think you could throw in a beer as well?"

***

"That twit. No, what a bloody arsehole." Adam huffs in indignation. "You were too good for him Y/N."

A part of you thought that Adam was merely saying this to cheer you up, but his golden locks that were ruffled by the time you had finished telling him what happened and his blazing eyes that could kill the fish that you were having again told you otherwise.

"I appreciate you getting mad for me Adam, but I've decided that I don't want to think about that slimeball anymore."

Adam pauses whatever diabolical revenge plan he had in his mind and nods. "I'm glad. Which also reminds me of something." He goes behind the counter and extracts two tickets from the cashier much to your curiosity.

"I have two tickets to the world food festival happening at the end of the month." He beams. "I was intending to go with Peter, but he had an emergency back home. I was wondering if you could come with me but now this isn't a question."

Yet again, you were reminded how lucky to have Adam as a friend. He looks at you expectantly and you can't help but to liken him to a golden retriever eagerly waiting for their reward.

"Sure. I would love to."

You laugh as Adam does a little jig and fist pump. "Yes! Meet me here at six on Saturday?"

"You got it."

*** You tugged at the hem of your sundress unconsciously. What if it was too much? Should you go back and change? What would he think?

Before you could even reach the entrance, the door opens, revealing Adam in a brown sweater and jeans that made his golden locks stand out even more. He sees you from afar and for a moment you’re not sure if he’s put on pause.

“Y/N! You look… amazing.” He breaths out as you walked closer. You see his eyes staring at your outfit appreciatively and you feel a flutter in your stomach.

“Thank you. You look great as well.”

Adam grins, causing your stomach to do a few flips. “Shall we then? The festival is just a 10 min walk away.”

Walking along the pier was healing itself. You feel the cool breeze on your face and sighed happily.

“I’m glad that you came along with me.”

“So am I. You’re right, Adam. I needed this.” You tell him sincerely. As the two of you neared the festival, you could see various lights being mixed together from the different booths, providing harmonious chaos. The smell of food wafts through the air, reaching your stomach that had betrayed you by giving a loud growl.

“Oops.”

Adam chuckles, grabbing your hand gently. “Good to see that you’re up for some food.”

Adam sees that you have reverted back to your old self in that moment, eyes almost giving off a maniacal glint.

“Oh, I was born ready. Let’s feast!”

***

This was the best place to let your senses come alive. For you? It was the aromatic smells and tantalizing cuisines that each booth had to offer. While Adam makes mental notes on how he could incorporate various cuisines into his current menu, you were busy chomping away.

“You are impressive, and I mean that with the utmost respect.” Adam laughs as you gobble down an egg waffle from the Hong Kong booth. You shoot him a playful glare that only made him want to tease you more.

“Hey, I have needs.” You crumple the empty paper bag, throwing it into the bin, unaware of the crumbs at the side of your lip.

“You have something on your lips.” Adam points and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. You try to follow where he was pointing at but didn’t seem to get the spot.

“Here,” Adam moves closer to you. “Let me.” He reaches for your lip, brushing the crumbs away with his thumb. The contact goes as quickly as it came and you’re left momentarily stunned. Adam doesn’t notice as he walks ahead of you, turning back when he realizes you aren’t following.

“Keep up! We still have more to go.”

You groan internally. You and your tendency to overthink things. Still, you can’t help but to think about Adam and his actions lately.

***

“This Lo Mein is out of this world!” You slurp on another noodle as Adam holds the box on his hand, going in for another taste. “I think you’re going to have to drag me back home later. Actually, you know what? I’m going to get one more box for supper.” You grin, heading back to the booth where the kind elderly woman was pleased to see you.

“Ah! Silly old me. I forgot to give you this!” The woman passes you a fortune cookie. “Something for the road.” She winks, shuffling away to attend to her other customers before you could even ask anything else. Curious, you decide to unwrap the cookie to read the contents inside. Instead of a usual quote, you see familiar handwriting. One that you saw on the written menu at The Warlock.

Y/N, I thought long and hard about writing this. I don’t want to loose our friendship, but I can’t stand to see you being under appreciated by others who don’t see your value and inner beauty. God, my hand’s trembling as I’m writing this but I’ll say it. I love you.

Your thumb lingers over the last three words and the noise from the festival has now been reduced to white noise in your head. All this while, he was right in front of you and you were too dumb not to see it. Cowardly, even.

You suddenly think about Adam’s actions and care towards you - not just when you broke up with that trash, but when you needed someone by your side. How he had closed the shop one time just to make sure you could recover from the nasty flu, brushing off your concerns about the lost business.

“It’s only one day, Y/N. You are more important.”

You clutch the paper in your hand, craning your neck to look for Adam in the crowd. The need to find him surges and you dart in and out of the crowd. You weren’t going to make the same mistake. You were going to give him your answer.

You were to engrossed with finding Adam that you find yourself being elbowed at the sides due to the crowd. Loosing your balance, you shut your eyes, preparing to be squashed by the potential foot traffic when a hand reaches out to grab you and pull you away from the throng of people.

Adam’s steely eyes stares into yours, making sure that you were not hurt. “Guess I should have reconsidered my mode of confession.”

The rumble in his voice steadies you and you immediately hug him tight. This throws him off slightly but he eases into it, bringing his arms around your waist.

“Yes,” you muffled into his chest. “I love you too.” You look up at him with affection. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you. I’m sorry I was so stupid to realize only now.” You’re about to ramble on when he brings your lips to his, giving you the most earth shattering kiss.

How you willed time to stop. He parts, looking down at you. Adam tucks a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “You don’t have to be sorry for anything. Your answer was all I needed.”

A slight drizzle starts to spread across the festival and a moment of panic registers on Adam’s face at the sight of you in your dress. Not that you mind.

“Don’t worry, a little rain won’t hurt. In fact, it’s refreshing.” You hold his hand in yours. “You have space back at the restaurant? I think I may be staying for a while.”

Adam breaks into a grin. He locks his fingers with yours, pulling you towards him again.

“For you? You can stay as long as you like.”

#adam warlock #adam warlock x reader #guardians of the galaxy #gotg 3 #modern au #navy and roo's sleepover #adam warlock x female reader #will poulter

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kiwiplaetzchen · 11 months ago

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Dear Nosy,

Yes, you're getting a letter too... although I don't know if your niffler dad will read it to you or if you've somehow managed to read the human language by now. Admittedly, it would make you even more remarkable than you already are <3

Your present, however, is in the care of Sebastian. We both know very well that I can't entrust you with a bottle of *golden* fairy dust without running the risk of you bathing in that stuff. The fairy dust makes you fly, little Niffler. I heard you quite enjoyed the flight the other day.

Have a lovely festive season, sweet little naughty.

Triggered by the flapping of the wings, Nosy looked up. It seemed like he would face the winged menace once more, but the Niffler was prepared for an epic showdown! This time, victory would be his!

He glared at the fowl. Nosy would end her, just like that green, bloody fool! But lo and behold, the owl dropped a mere piece of paper and flew away, leaving Nosy dumbfounded.

Nosy hopped around in frustration and shook his tiny fists at the retreating bird. Fine! Nosy won this round yet again! SWEET VICTORY! Take that, you bootless flying chicken! The little menace huffed through his nose.

Nosy's attention then switched back to the letter. The Niffler smelled the piece of paper and began to tear the envelope apart. No sweets inside - how disappointing. Nosy sighed, his dreams of sugary delights shattered. Yet, amidst his sorrow, a spark of realisation struck.

Sebastian and the pretty-but-inferior red-head always messed with such stiff sheets! Determined, Nosy honked a triumphant honk – this parchment was his ticket to glory to sweets! Nosy will just bring the paper to his companion! Yes!

With his bum wiggling in anticipation, Nosy tucked the useless piece of paper into his belly pouch and waddled off, like a hero on a mission, dreaming of the grand treat Sebastian would surely bestow upon him for delivering such a valuable gift! For being such a good companion! The best companion! Oh, what kind of treat would it be? The suspense wiggled Nosy's bum even more. Onward!

#Gwen #Nosy #hl rp #Hogwarts Legacy #such a good Niffler #the best Hogwarts has ever seen #protecting us from all kinds of #things...#with fire #and determination #and even more fire

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problemswithbooks · 7 months ago

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BNHA Ch. 419

Haven't had much to say about the chapters lately. I didn't really find the fight between Shigaraki and Izuku very exciting and was checking up on leaks just to see if the ending had dropped yet.

But I was actually really excited to see this new development in 419.

I always suspected and hoped AfO gave Tenko decay and manipulated the situation so he wasn't saved. Now, we don't know if AfO orchestrated Tenko not being saved by a Hero during his trauma walk, but it was would be a little weird if he didn't after it's been revealed he had a hand in almost every aspect of Tenko's life.

I know a lot of fans are bumped by this choice or think it ruins his character, but personally it fixes a lot of my issues with how Shigaraki has been portrayed.

The main thing (as long as AfO did mess with Tenko being saved) is that it fixes the huge world building mistake that Tenko's backstory relies on. Now, I'm not a huge fan of the ridiculousness of Touya's backstory either, where this young teen in hospital clothes runs around a rich neighborhood, but that's not the core of his identity as a villain either. The thing that mattered was that Enji was still training Shoto so Touya thought his death didn't change anything.

Tenko's origin just straight up does not make sense with everything else we've been shown about this world. By the time Tenko was born Heroes were everywhere and beloved. We've never been shown anywhere else in the story that Heroes wouldn't help a child wandering around bloody on the streets actively asking for help. Even with civilians, claiming they rely to much on Heroes doesn't fix this because why wouldn't one of the thousands he walked by go get a Hero. I mean people report stuff all the time, and it'd give them an excuse to interact with what their society deems a celebrity.

It also makes AfO look stupid. Tenko is his golden ticket--he's putting all this effort into him, he's the only person he wants/can use for his goals. Why risk a Hero or caring civilain helping him? It would ruin his entire plan if anyone even showed a small kindness to Tenko. For someone who claims to plan everything, that's taking way to many chances.

I know the people that hated this reveal think it kneecaps the message of 'Hero Society bad', but I don't necessarily think the story was ever really trying to say that. It has issues and needs some fixing, but it's not what Shigaraki wanted--he wanted total destruction. It also explains why a bunch of stuff Shigaraki said didn't make sense with what we've been shown. He thinks the things he does because he's been lied to or set up in a way where that's the only conclusion he could come to.

And it's not as if all of Tenko's pain/suffering being caused by AfO makes BNHA society perfect. Spinner still faced racist discrimination, Toga's Quirk made her feel ostracized, Dabi was neglected and abused by his father who was a Hero, Twice is the poster child of the 'one bad day' motto. Shigaraki's origin is villainy itself and with AfO's own origin, a good argument of why Heroes exist. Now the entire core characters of the League have differeing backstories instead of Shigaraki just being a combo of them all, with some AfO manipulation sprinkled in.

It makes him a better foil for Izuku as well, since just like Izuku is often referred to as an empty puppet, Tenko could be viewed this way too. This is something Izuku can connect and help Tenko with when he comes back (because it'd be insane if he was just dead now). The one thing Shigaraki does have is a Heroic heart. Yes, AfO might have set some things up to get him to be that way, but you can't force someone to be altruistic or caring of others. Tenko cares about outcasts and his friends--that's still a part of him, even if it was nurtured by AfO for nefarious purposes.

So, yeah, that's my thoughts on 419. Actually sort of excited to see what happens next.

#bnha 419 #bnha spoilers #bnha #mha #bnha manga

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val-in-a-trenchcoat · 1 year ago

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Okay no bcus I finally got that moment of OH THIS IS JUST BLOODY GENIUS about the Good Omens s2 finale, and OH IT IS BLOODY GENIUS. It fits so well, and everyone's been screaming about how in character it is and I was just vaguely flapping my hand in agreement but I didn't GET IT get it and now it's snapped into place and dammit it's so in character it hurts.

(GO s2 spoilers btw)

(also most people probably already yelled this but this is my take lol)

Season 1. Aziraphale.

"You were issued a flaming sword."

"Erm, well, yes... but... uhm... well, funny story, actually..."

Aziraphale has been doing an absolutely terrible job of being an angel since the beginning of time. (Bless him, though, he's trying his best.) Barely a day on earth, and he's already massively ducked it up, given away the one (1!!) thing he was in charge of, and accidentally befriended the literal snake of Eden, tempter of the original sin. He's confronted about it, and he most likely expected to be cast down immediately (I mean, just look at his reaction when he lied to the archangels in the Job minisode, so imagine his internal panicking when he lied to Her Majesty Herself!!)

But -- what??!! He's not cast down??!! He's got a second chance, he got away easy! Well, at least, he didn't get Cast Down, but imagine the inner turmoil -- the guilt -- the absolute fear he carried from that day on (from THE BEGINNING OF TIME, mind you).

He's been expecting to make an absolute mess of it from the VERY BEGINNING.

And then we see the Job minisode, and of course all the guilt that came with it, and just how poorly Aziraphale truly thinks of himself. He's a liar. He's easily tempted. He's a failure. (It hurt to write that bcus bby Aziraphale is none of those things but like yeah okay technically he is)

He has SO. MUCH. GUILT.

Truly, the poor man(-shaped being) has not gone a day walking on Creation that he didn't have this weight on his shoulders of constantly messing up, being a poor angel, and always feeling two steps away from getting Cast Down for all his mistakes.

And that's how Metatron got him.

Imagine all of this guilt and bad feelings Aziraphale carries with him every day, and then suddenly he gets THE GOLDEN TICKET for it all to just... ✨disappear✨.

Poof.

You can fix it, Aziraphale. All of it! Make right the wrongs and redeem yourself as a GOOD angel. It's quite literally a get out of jail free card, because he won't get cast down, he CAN'T, and while he's at it he's fixing all of it and redeeming (and making up for) all his previous mistakes and mishaps and wrongdoings.

Somehow I didn't see it before, I always saw Aziraphale as thinking of himself a little bit too highly (the typical angel) but of course not to the extent of Gabriel and the rest of the snobby angels Up High. But I didn't realise this extra level of just how much Aziraphale truly believes he needs to make up for all the non-angelic things he's done.

Honestly, this might've all been gibberish, and this is my very first post ever on this hellsite (I think?) so uhm???

Lemme know if I'm way off base lol

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #uhmmmm #if anyone wants to be friends lemme know #none of my irl friends watch good omens so I have nobody to yell with when stuff happens #this is scary idk what to do on tumblr

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itsjustsemantics · 1 year ago

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Love, Javier - Chpt: 5

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader/OFC (no y/n, no physical description, established backstory, no clear age gap mentioned)

content/warnings: reminiscent!Javi, guilt about the past, reader/OFC has a boyfriend, aeroplane!javi, Steve and connie are having a baby! partially reminiscent conversation and a carefully constructed Bloody Mary ;)

Series masterlist

Chapter 5: The Airport (1993)

Javier ticked his jaw as he waited for his turn at the coffee shop somewhere around his terminal. Now that he thought about it, he had barely given his ticket more than a brief glance. His eyes ran over the block letters consciously.

Between receiving news that he had been promoted to all the excessive bureaucracy that took place to solidify his position he had barely had five minutes to himself to sit down and let it all sink in.

It reminded him of when they had shipped him off to DC. After the Judy Moncado debacle. One second he had Escobar being handed to him on a golden platter and the next he was on a plane to Washington, as far away from Escobar as possible, waiting for the bad media to blow over like some shameful celebrity. He loathed it-scratch that, he loathed himself.

He looked down at the shiny marble flooring, scooting ahead one space. The man that looked back wasn’t Javier Peña, the confident asshole from the DEA, who’s only goal was to catch Escobar, no matter what. It was a man who had slogged his ass five years trying and a man who wasn’t even there to see it end. Why? Because he was just too damn hell bent on ending it all.

He looked up and in response to the barista’s greeting, his face barely cooperating at the smile he commanded. He ran his hand along his cheek.

“I’d like a tall coffee, black, no sugar.” He slid a couple bills on the counter and slid his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans.

“You can pick it up from the next counter.” The barista handed him some change which he pocketed carelessly this time. “Thank you, have a pleasant day.”

He grabbed his coffee, throwing another one of his half-hearted smiles at the woman whom he had brushed past.

Now here he was, impatiently waiting to get back to his post in Columbia. Javier needed to do things the proper way this time. No sidestepping the law, and doing bad things to catch the bad guys. This promotion was a second chance he thought he didn’t deserve. That along with the claps on the back he had gotten, congratulating him on Escobar’s downfall. He was anything but a hero.

He had to take down Cali without any of that. Sure, for himself but he also felt like he owed it to everyone down there. There was a fire lit in his gut and a well-rested responsibility coursed through his veins; Acting as a constant reminder to what he had done. Although all of that would have to wait, and he would have to deal with his overwhelming drive to do the right thing for another couple of weeks.

He sat at one of the small round tables and sipped his coffee slowly inspecting the roar of applause that erupted from the small television in the far corner. Steve Balboni had hit another home run.

You wrapped your arms around Dusty’s neck one last time as he snuck in a final kiss. “I’ll miss you.” He mumbled into your lips and you smiled, pulling away.

“I’ll miss you too.” You resisted the urge to swing on your heels like some gleeful toddler and took his hand in yours instead.

“Come on, let’s get a coffee before you board.” He laced his fingers with yours and you made your way to a small starbucks.

~0o0~

“Yes, two tall lattes, a single shot of espresso please and the sugars on the side.” You said, fishing out some dollars from your wallet. The barista asked for your name which you said, still fishing out some change from your wallet. He then ushered you to the next counter while you waited, moving on to the next person in line.

You glanced to your left, courtesy of a casual curiosity and you let out an incredulous exhale.

It couldn’t be. You thought, blinking slowly. You peeked at the figure again, only confirming your suspicions. Neatly trimmed moustache, over a pair of shapely lips and a set of soft brown eyes. There was no mistaking it. Javier Peña.

It was his Romanesque features and cool demeanour that gave him away. Prominent nose and a strong jaw, the latter neatly shaved. A dimple creased his cheek as he smiled at the barista and shoved his wallet back into the back pocket of his fitting jeans. You had spent eighteen hours with the man and the image of him had been deeply ingrained in your mind after spending so long in his presence.

The server called out your name loudly and his eyes met yours at the sound. You gave him a small, tight smile. Which he only returned with an even smaller one. You swiped your lattes off the counter and watched him brush past you, reaching for his own order.

Your mouth hung open as you followed him with your eyes, simultaneously making your way towards Dusty at a table.

“Who was that?” He asked, raising himself from his seat to help you set the drinks down. Your eyes still bore a deep gaze at Javier, who sat on the opposite end, eyeing the baseball game.

He was clad in a half sleeve linen button up, and fitted jeans; same as when you had seen him the first time. You saw that he had traded his deep beige jacket for a black leather one and of course, his yellow coolers, sitting snazzily on the bridge of his nose. You pursed your lips.

“Thank god he couldn’t place me.” You said with a frown, plopping down next to Dusty. “I drove from Chicago to New York with him five years ago and it was the longest night of my life.”

“What happened,” Dusty enquired, picking up his latte. Your mind swished back five years ago, recollecting the events. You shook your head with a laugh.

“God, it was like sitting next to some sort of Don Juan.” You saw Dusty’s face mould into a quizzical one, glancing at Javier.

“He helped me get a date with some guy-” Your brain searched for a name and your eyebrows knit at the blank slate. “Oh god, I can’t remember his name.” You set down your latte turning to Dusty. “Don’t get involved with me Dustin, I’m not even close to thirty and I can't remember the name of the guy I was so smitten over, five years ago.”

“So what happened?” Dusty, brushed your rant to the side.

“When?”

“When he helped you and then…?”

“Oh,” You breathed, “The conversation went on into men and women being friends- and this I remember clear as day.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “He said that men and women could never really be friends. Do you think that’s true?” You looked up at Dustin over the rim of your cup. He thought for a couple seconds before shaking his head in disagreement.

“No.”

“Do you have any woman friends?”

“No.” He said again and you raised your eyebrows. “But I will get some if it's important to you.” He completed, leaning in for a quick peck.

“Colin Anderson!” You exclaimed suddenly, pulling away from Dusty with a relieved breath. “That was his name, thank god.” You shook your head.

A couple minutes later Dustin drowned the last of his latte and got up, looking at his watch.

“I will miss you,” He held out his hand to you, helping you out of your seat. You ran your fingers over the front of your blouse. “I love you.” He pulled you into his arms.

“You do?” You giggled, smile widening.

“Yes,” He breathed, “Now cm’re.” He pulled you into a kiss.

“I love you,” you said after pulling away.

“Is that the time?” You gasped, after your eyes briefly swept over your watch catching the hands inching forwards.

“You’d better be off then.” Dusty nodded in the direction of the long line of gates.

“I’ll see you soon,” you called back to him, waving, his figure getting smaller and smaller as you made your way to your gate.

~0o0~

You wiggled in your seat, reaching for a magazine behind the netted pocket of the chair in front of you. More as an excuse to peer through the crack between the seats than for actual reading purposes. You watched as your potential seat-mate jostled by the aisle.

Your attention momentarily gravitated towards an elderly couple squabbling over their luggage in the pair of seats on the other side of the aisle. The elderly lady ignoring her husband’s rational pleas and fishing through her magenta purse, hissing irrational retorts. The man seated right next to them looked up towards the ceiling of the aircraft. You could tell that he knew he would have to put up with the constant bickering for the duration of the journey.

A jean clad figure obstructed your view and you cleared your throat, directing your gaze away and straightening up in your seat. You heard the shuffling in the cabin above and the lid shutting close with a ‘smack’. You never seemed to get rid of your nerves.

You smoothened some non-existing wrinkles out of your clothes as the person took their seat next to you. A musky scent with notes of amber and cedar subjugated the scent of the cold aeroplane air as they hit the seats.

You turned to acknowledge him and you nearly laughed out loud at the absurd coincidence. Here he was, yet again, sitting next to you after your uneventful run in earlier.

His leather jacket squeaked as he adjusted in his seat and you couldn't help but stare at his indifference attitude. He turned to you and nodded a smile, you barely returned it, still somewhat embarrassed from before.

You saw him steal another glance at you through the side of your eye as you took a long sip of water.

Javier tortured himself throughout takeoff trying to place a name to your hauntingly familiar face. He occasionally glanced at you each time lasting longer than the last. Hoping that another look would be able to. He ran his fingers along his chin as you fished out a magazine and flipped it open uninterested. Your eyes aimlessly scanned the perfume and beauty section with the over priced self care products.

“Anything you’d like to drink?” The air hostess smiled down at him and he broke his gaze.

“Nothing for me, thanks.” He shook his head, but took the miniature water bottle that she handed him with a smile.

“You, ma’am?” She turned to you.

“Do you have any bloody mary mix?” The air hostess nodded and reached into her cart.

“No, wait. Here’s what I want.” You sat up in your seat. Javier turned to face you, head on this time. “I want regular tomato juice filled up about three quarters then just a splash of bloody mary mix, just a splash-”

And a piece of lime, but on the side. Javier completed mentally, condemning himself for not recognising you earlier. He smiled softly into his fist, waiting for the air hostess to complete making your drink.

Your lips froze over the rim of your glass when he said your name. You finished your sip and turned to him.

“Connie’s cousin, the University of Chicago right?”

“Yes.” You smirked. “Took you long enough.”

Your soft features had matured, somehow becoming far more attractive but your foibles had remained the same, for the most part at least; it had only been something short of an hour.

“How’s Connie?” He asked, leaning back into his seat. “And the baby?” he added quickly.

The last time Javier had seen Connie was a week before she had decided to move back to Miami with the baby, 1990? Javier pondered. He had barely kept in touch with Steve after Escobar’s death, let alone Mrs.Murphy.

“Well Connie is expecting.” You hummed blissfully, your brows giving away your enthusiasm. “Only a couple months in though.”

“Oh,” Javier said, “I bet she’s ecstatic.”

“Very,” You smiled, taking another sip of your carefully curated beverage. “Oh- And Olivia has started walking, she's about this tall now-” You raised your hand just below your hips proudly.

Javier chuckled softly, recalling Steve complaining to him about his lack of clean t-shirts. It hadn’t even been 3 years since. Javier made a mental note to give him a call once he landed; see how family life was treating him.

“So how’ve you been?” Javier leaned back into his seat, the corner of his eye on you.

“Decent, you know, run of the mill.” You breathed some weight hanging onto your words. Then you slapped on a smile and turned to him

“Mmhmm, yeah” He hummed, tilting his head towards you. “That plan of yours…” Javier started, “Show producer or journalist?”

Javier twisted open his water bottle as you rolled your eyes.

“I knew you thought it was silly.” You let out an amused breath and he shrugged with a smirk. “Well, I’m actually a creative director for this morning show.”

“In D.C?” Javier’s eyebrow shot up.

“Hmm? No, no. It was just a short seminar I had to attend.” You sighed. “And I’m going to Austin for a short segment we planned.”

“So New York then, like you planned?” Javier slotted the bottle in the netted pocket.

“Well…well no, it's this local T.V station in Miami.” Your fingers laced in your lap and you slapped on a half-hearted smile. “Enough about me,” You drew in a long breath. “From what I've heard, you deserve some commendation; Escobar’s been on the news everywhere.”

“Hmm, yeah.” Javier said. He had seen it on almost every broadcasting channel. Another pathetic reminder of the fact that he hadn’t been able to witness it real-time.

An unsaid understanding passed between the two of you. The last 5 years hadn’t gone as either of you had planned.

~0o0~

“You still don’t date? I don’t believe it.” You exclaimed, shaking your head.

“I have-” Javier corrected, hoping that it wouldn't turn into another lecture.

“It's just not for you.” You completed with him. He raised his eyebrows at you as he picked up your cup and tossed it into the large garbage bag making its way through the aisle. You nodded a small 'thanks'.

“You know, Dusty said he would never date after highschool.” You straightened out your neck knowingly.

“Well ‘Dusty’s last name happens to be Dinkleman.” Javier joked and you rolled your eyes at his petty attempt at a jab

“Besides, he’s your typical wall street guy.” He said, more seriously this time.

When Javier turned to face you your eyebrows were creased together. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You frowned and Javier knew that look all too well.

“They all live the same lives.” He rested his temple on two fingers. “Graduate from an ivy, get a job in some firm on wall street. Then they meet someone, have a safe lunch and then decide they like the woman enough to move on to dinner.” Javier used his other hand to gesticulate. “Maybe they go dancing - do the white man’s overbite-”

“What on earth is that?” You looked at him curiously. Javier caught his bottom lip with his teeth and rocked his shoulders in small movements, up and down; his hands balled into loose fists.

You laughed audibly. Mouth contoured into a grin; drinking up his sardonic story.

“Dustin’s never done that.” You shook your head, almost embarrassed.

“Take him dancing honey.” Javier said, leaning back into palm and you snorted again, picturing the scene.

“Anyways,” Javier exhaled. “After that, they get married, move into a nice quiet place in the suburbs, have three kids and crank up the grill sundays.” Javier shrugged, completing.

“You think he’s boring and predictable.” You said.

“Do you?”

Your lips pressed together “No.” You said firmly, leaving Javier convinced otherwise. “It goes without saying.” You quickly babbled, noticing his gaze.

“Then why does it matter what I think?” He said, clasping his hands in lap, giving you a quizzical look.

“It doesn't.” You huffed.

“Well then, that’s that.” He shrugged, manoeuvring away from the topic,not wanting to ruin the conversation. It had been the first one he had had in weeks that wasn’t heavy and stressful.

“It’s serious then?” He folded his arms across his chest. The way he sat, straight against the seat broadened his shoulders further, stretching the linen fabric taut across his chest.

“Well, it's only been a couple months since.” You smiled bashfully. “But it’s not like i know i’m gonna marry the guy y'know?”

“Right.” Javier nodded.

“We’ve only known each other for 3 months after all.” You sighed. “Haven’t witnessed his ‘white man's' overbite’ yet.” You smiled up at Javier, your eyes rolling the tiniest bit.

Javier picked up your sarcastic tone and took another swig from his water. “I’m telling you, it's a deal breaker.”

~0o0~

Javier found himself manoeuvring through the sea of people on the moving sidewalk trying to catch up with you. He muttered a few ‘excuse me’ s and ‘sorry’s before sliding up right behind you.

“Hey,” He breathed. “You staying for a bit here then??” He watched you turn back towards him.

“Yes.” You breathed, turning around once more.

“Well, I'm in town for a while. Would you like to have dinner sometime maybe-”

You turned to him, eyebrows raising.

“Just as friends.” He assured, holding his palms up in defence.

“I thought you believed men and women couldn't be friends.” You shook your head.

“Well,” He started, “They can if they-”

“Javier.” You stopped him, just as the both of you stepped off of the sidewalk near the sliding doors. You thrust your hand in front of him. “Javier, goodbye. It was very nice to see you.”

He nodded once, before the two of you swapped small smiles. He found his eyes following you onto the street, the air blowing little wisps of your hair into your face. He let out a heavy sigh and adjusted the strap of his shoulder bag as he made his way to a pay phone.

His gaze flickered back to you, now ducking into a car, the backlights spilling onto the curb as you pulled your purse inside along with you. He tilted his head to the side as the phone began to ring and your car drove away. The line connected with a click and Javier’s eyes drifted to his shoes.

“Hey Pops, it's me.”

~0o0~

A/N: Hello, hi. This turned into a tiny hiatus oof. Sorry about that. Anyways, I finally got down to finishing this chapter and here you are. I'm actually taking the weekend off in terms of the internet and gadgets (summer cottages and saunas await) so only expect another update after that <3

Don't forget to show some love and leave a note :))

Check out chapter 3 and 4 here:

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

And as usual, sending love, hugs and kisses :**

Ps- I'm torn between back leather and beige Javi :s What do we think?

-itsjustsemantics x

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