irrevocableloves

[irrevocableloves]

I am what I am.

[irrevocableloves]

change of plans i’m making this a four parter…. I FORGOT ABOUT THIS AND JUST STARTED WRITING IT NOW PLEASEEEE I’M SO SORRY the next part will be titled long live hehehe

gold rush

cedric diggory x fem!hufflepuff!reader

taylor swift series: part one

⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ masterlist ₊ ⊹

summary: everybody wants him, everybody wonders what it would be like to love him, but he loves you. (inspired by taylor swift’s gold rush!!!)

warnings: lil bit of angst, self-pity, mentions of alcohol, FLUFF <3

words: 1.8k

what must it be like to grow up that beautiful?

cedric diggory. the prefect of hufflepuff. the captain of the hufflepuff quidditch team. your best friend. but that was all he was... a friend.

the secret you bore that you had fallen in love with him along the way of your friendship had burned a hole into your heart, believing that deep down that he was never destined to fall for you.

sure, you'd hoped things would slowly work out in your favor. but in your eyes, it didn't seem very likely.

but to (almost) everyone else, his eyes were only on you.

everyone knew from the moment you and cedric were seen running around the halls together on the first day you were both sorted into hufflepuff that the two of you were completely enamored with one another. it could be seen in many other ways throughout the years.

cedric was a gentleman to everyone of course, but to you? he was an absolute angel. the way he'd listen to every word you had to say even if it was the most ridiculous, hold your books for you in between classes, skip his classes and take care of you if you were sick, just the way he looked at you… you swore the glint in his eyes had felt so much different. but you’d also considered that you’ve just gone completely mad…

you noticed his gestures of course, but you thought that was just cedric's nature. he was a hufflepuff wasn't he? well, he was practically the face of hufflepuff. at hogwarts, mostly everyone wasn't 100% of their house, but you were convinced cedric was the only true hufflepuff.

the girls hoarding around cedric never helped, but you never noticed the way he acted around them. uncomfortable. and not so much entertaining them, but more-so feeling guilty for them (and also because he's a a major pushover). 

with the tri-wizard competition and with cedric as a champion, the crowds piled around him. not just girls, but hufflepuffs who wanted to bash around in his glory.

you missed him. you didn't even want him to put his name in the stupid goblet to begin with, but you couldn’t bare the look of disappointment on his face when you didn’t approve of it. he thought the world of you. he wanted to do this for you, to prove that he could finally make the house you shared worthy of the limelight, to make him worth of you…. but you didn’t know that yet.

but now, every chance you had to spend with him was always ruined by the crowds stealing him away. everyday for a week since then he’d been pulled away from you. his usual spot next to you in the great hall remained empty and no one else had come to claim it, your friends knowing it was his spot. well other people tried… like when ernie didn’t make it time to be cedric’s little side-kick, he’d try to squeeze himself in beside you, but everyone hollered him off when you didn’t have the heart to.

you’d seen cedric make the effort. every single time he did, but he would be pulled away by his growing posse. sometimes you’d just wish you were able to scream, yell, or even simply ask him to stay loud enough to be heard over the boys and their banter, but alas, it never worked in your favor. you also wished that he would tell his friends that he wanted to stay back and just have at least one second with you. just one conversation. but every time he managed to get out a word of retort, his cheeks had gone so red and his voice in a fit of stutters that he’d just let his growing group lead him elsewhere.

you noticed the girls. of course you did. how could you not?

it’s not like girls had never craved the attention of cedric diggory, but after his name shot out of goblet of fire, it’d almost been too much for you.

the girls, especially those from beauxbatons, stared and erupted giggles every time he’d passed by and sent glares at you whenever he’d try and stop to talk to you, but those were always quickly interrupted by his herd of new friends. even anthony, his bestest friend, had grown tired of the crowds and relinquished back to his normal spot the great hall, matching your sighs whenever you’d hear the crowd boast over him.

one night, when you had just managed to finish hours worth of work on a history of magic paper, once you were satisfied, you let yourself bury into the covers of your bed. it was a friday night and there was a party in the hufflepuff common room to celebrate cedric once again, but you were exhausted. you’d purposefully planned to be cooped up in your room all night while the rest of your school mates partied away. no one would miss me surely.

knock knock.

you were tempted to just lay there, pretend you were asleep in hopes they would leave you to your solitude, but the fits of knocks didn’t stop and they soon turned to mutters that would make your heart almost stop completely.

“y/n? y/n/n? you awake?” cedric. even in his slightly drunken state, he was soft-spoken, only gently knocking and whispering in case you hadn’t been awake.

any other time, you would’ve gotten up immediately. but after this week, you were hesitant. it wasn’t his fault. really, it wasn’t. you couldn’t help the built up insecurities and the fact that cedric didn’t have time for you anymore. he always did before, but this time, there was just too much in the way, too many people watching his every move and wanting every bit of attention just as you did.

just as you were sure he’d left, you heard a soft huff and an odd noise hitting your door.

when you finally made your way to open the door, you slid it open gently, seeing cedric leaning up against it, sliding alongside it while you cracked it open.

you gasped at the site, grabbing cedric’s hand with the two of yours and hauling him up. “ced?” you grunted, struggling as you pulled him. “why are you here?”

“wanted to see you.” his cheeks were flushed red. he’d been drinking. not quite a lot. you knew when he’d gotten to his breaking point. right now, he’d only had a couple shots in fire whiskey him, otherwise he would’ve been completely knocked out and unintelligible. “why didn’t you come down?”

his speech was hardly slurred, he just seemed really tired.

“um…” the paper excuse sounded lame. were you really holing yourself up in your dorm all because a boy hadn’t given you his undivided attention? that excuse would never hear the light of day, but even then, you knew it was pathetic. “was tired…” now that was even more pathetic.

you sat over on your four poster bed and he followed in suit, but instead of sitting, he fiddled with the curtains, as if he’d seemed more interested in the velvet fabric than you. no. he was distracting himself. he was just as nervous as you were.

your eyes went to his, then to your twiddling hands. a moment of silence had aired throughout your dorm. then you felt a dip on your bed.

“y/n/n ‘m sorry.” you looked up, his cheeks reaching even deeper level of pink. once your eyes met his, he was a stuttering mess. “it’s just—the tournament. i-i know you didn’t want me doing it and-and i don’t know i didn’t think i’d really get picked you know? then…” he made an explosion sound with his mouth and you struggled not to stifle up a giggle. you loved when he was so nervous that he just rambled on to no end and you didn’t dare to stop him just yet.

he continued on, “and i just got caught up in it? like i’d won a quidditch match, but times a hundred. maybe a thousand? and-and i didn’t want to disappoint anyone… even if the crowds are a lot. overwhelms me a bit… just wanted to hang out with you.” you looked up at him, debating whether to speak up yet. you didn’t.

“merlin, i feel horrible…” he got up from your bed and started pacing around your room. “you didn’t even want me to put my name in that cup to begin with, but my dad… he’d sounded so proud in his letter when i told him about it. i couldn’t let him down. but then you… i shouldn’t have put in.”

he continued on, “i just thought… that perhaps… i could make your proud. you always talk about how hufflepuff gets no recognition.”

me? but why?

“and i know that you didn’t even want me entering the stupid thing in the first place… but i didn’t wanna let you down.” he huffed, finally sitting back down, his fingers still fidgeting.

“you could never do that.” you simply said. it was true. there was nothing he could do that would ever disappoint you. it was quite infuriating.

“i feel like i-i already have.” that’s when you placed your hand on his, grasping his fingers to stop his nerves.

“it’s not your fault.” it really wasn’t. but you struggled to find the words as to why as you found as fingers playing with your own.

“it is. the crowds… i wanted to tell them to shove off, but i just didn’t wanna let anyone down. it’s stupid…” one of his hands found its way to his hair, tending to one of his nasty habits. once he nervously pulled at his hair and squinted his eyes shut, you finally found the words.

“it’s my fault too.” you said, he shook his head in defense. “no. i mean… i know how overwhelmed you get and i feel terrible for not realizing that soon enough. look at you! you’re a mess and i-i wish i could’ve been there. but the crowd and the people and i just-i just thought..” you felt even embarrassed to say it out loud. “you didn’t need me anymore.” you finally let out.

you could feel his eyes on you. that’s when he used his other hand to lift up your chin, bringing your wandering eyes up to his.

“i’ll always need you. look at where i’m at without you.” he chuckled, his cheeks flushing an even brighter red.

“yeah… drunk and crawling up the girl’s dormitory stairs.” you giggled. “how’d you even manage the counter-spell?”

his eyebrows furrowed, a look of confusion on his face. “i don’t quite remember…?”

“you’re not even that drunk!”

“and how do you know that?” he challenged.

“well, first of all, you managed to make it all the way up here. and second, you’re not completely incoherent.”

“yeah…” he admitted. “party’s no fun without you. i’d much rather stay here with you.” your cheeks reddened.

“well, then stay. i’ll make you a tea.” you were surprised you didn’t make a complete mess of your words.

you swiftly got up off your bed, grabbing a mug from your shelf and then a kettle, using aguamenti and then a simple water-heating charm afterwards.

“chamomile and honey?”

a/n: anyone up for a part two???? he was a lil drunk so i didn’t feel comfortable about any confessions and kissing </3 BUT I DO HAVE IDEAS FOR MORE SOOO !!!

tags: @measure-in-pain @brekkers-whore @rejectedbimbo @leilanileila @anothercoffeeblogx @cevans-winchester @trawberry-fire @nephilimsss @itszzmoon @astrovampie @cryingoverfictionalmen @boxofbadsenses @ttnaanj @iheartprettygurls @aoi-targaryen @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mystifiedgrace @ladybirdbeetle7 @celi-xxmoon (i don’t rmr how many of u wanted to be tagged for cedric </3)

taglist ₊˚⊹♡

[irrevocableloves]

writing part two rn !!!! will be inspired by another taylor swift song hehe…… snow on the beach 💋💋💋💋💋

gold rush

cedric diggory x fem!hufflepuff!reader

taylor swift series: part one

⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ masterlist ₊ ⊹

summary: everybody wants him, everybody wonders what it would be like to love him, but he loves you. (inspired by taylor swift’s gold rush!!!)

warnings: lil bit of angst, self-pity, mentions of alcohol, FLUFF <3

words: 1.8k

what must it be like to grow up that beautiful?

cedric diggory. the prefect of hufflepuff. the captain of the hufflepuff quidditch team. your best friend. but that was all he was... a friend.

the secret you bore that you had fallen in love with him along the way of your friendship had burned a hole into your heart, believing that deep down that he was never destined to fall for you.

sure, you'd hoped things would slowly work out in your favor. but in your eyes, it didn't seem very likely.

but to (almost) everyone else, his eyes were only on you.

everyone knew from the moment you and cedric were seen running around the halls together on the first day you were both sorted into hufflepuff that the two of you were completely enamored with one another. it could be seen in many other ways throughout the years.

cedric was a gentleman to everyone of course, but to you? he was an absolute angel. the way he'd listen to every word you had to say even if it was the most ridiculous, hold your books for you in between classes, skip his classes and take care of you if you were sick, just the way he looked at you… you swore the glint in his eyes had felt so much different. but you’d also considered that you’ve just gone completely mad…

you noticed his gestures of course, but you thought that was just cedric's nature. he was a hufflepuff wasn't he? well, he was practically the face of hufflepuff. at hogwarts, mostly everyone wasn't 100% of their house, but you were convinced cedric was the only true hufflepuff.

the girls hoarding around cedric never helped, but you never noticed the way he acted around them. uncomfortable. and not so much entertaining them, but more-so feeling guilty for them (and also because he's a a major pushover). 

with the tri-wizard competition and with cedric as a champion, the crowds piled around him. not just girls, but hufflepuffs who wanted to bash around in his glory.

you missed him. you didn't even want him to put his name in the stupid goblet to begin with, but you couldn’t bare the look of disappointment on his face when you didn’t approve of it. he thought the world of you. he wanted to do this for you, to prove that he could finally make the house you shared worthy of the limelight, to make him worth of you…. but you didn’t know that yet.

but now, every chance you had to spend with him was always ruined by the crowds stealing him away. everyday for a week since then he’d been pulled away from you. his usual spot next to you in the great hall remained empty and no one else had come to claim it, your friends knowing it was his spot. well other people tried… like when ernie didn’t make it time to be cedric’s little side-kick, he’d try to squeeze himself in beside you, but everyone hollered him off when you didn’t have the heart to.

you’d seen cedric make the effort. every single time he did, but he would be pulled away by his growing posse. sometimes you’d just wish you were able to scream, yell, or even simply ask him to stay loud enough to be heard over the boys and their banter, but alas, it never worked in your favor. you also wished that he would tell his friends that he wanted to stay back and just have at least one second with you. just one conversation. but every time he managed to get out a word of retort, his cheeks had gone so red and his voice in a fit of stutters that he’d just let his growing group lead him elsewhere.

you noticed the girls. of course you did. how could you not?

it’s not like girls had never craved the attention of cedric diggory, but after his name shot out of goblet of fire, it’d almost been too much for you.

the girls, especially those from beauxbatons, stared and erupted giggles every time he’d passed by and sent glares at you whenever he’d try and stop to talk to you, but those were always quickly interrupted by his herd of new friends. even anthony, his bestest friend, had grown tired of the crowds and relinquished back to his normal spot the great hall, matching your sighs whenever you’d hear the crowd boast over him.

one night, when you had just managed to finish hours worth of work on a history of magic paper, once you were satisfied, you let yourself bury into the covers of your bed. it was a friday night and there was a party in the hufflepuff common room to celebrate cedric once again, but you were exhausted. you’d purposefully planned to be cooped up in your room all night while the rest of your school mates partied away. no one would miss me surely.

knock knock.

you were tempted to just lay there, pretend you were asleep in hopes they would leave you to your solitude, but the fits of knocks didn’t stop and they soon turned to mutters that would make your heart almost stop completely.

“y/n? y/n/n? you awake?” cedric. even in his slightly drunken state, he was soft-spoken, only gently knocking and whispering in case you hadn’t been awake.

any other time, you would’ve gotten up immediately. but after this week, you were hesitant. it wasn’t his fault. really, it wasn’t. you couldn’t help the built up insecurities and the fact that cedric didn’t have time for you anymore. he always did before, but this time, there was just too much in the way, too many people watching his every move and wanting every bit of attention just as you did.

just as you were sure he’d left, you heard a soft huff and an odd noise hitting your door.

when you finally made your way to open the door, you slid it open gently, seeing cedric leaning up against it, sliding alongside it while you cracked it open.

you gasped at the site, grabbing cedric’s hand with the two of yours and hauling him up. “ced?” you grunted, struggling as you pulled him. “why are you here?”

“wanted to see you.” his cheeks were flushed red. he’d been drinking. not quite a lot. you knew when he’d gotten to his breaking point. right now, he’d only had a couple shots in fire whiskey him, otherwise he would’ve been completely knocked out and unintelligible. “why didn’t you come down?”

his speech was hardly slurred, he just seemed really tired.

“um…” the paper excuse sounded lame. were you really holing yourself up in your dorm all because a boy hadn’t given you his undivided attention? that excuse would never hear the light of day, but even then, you knew it was pathetic. “was tired…” now that was even more pathetic.

you sat over on your four poster bed and he followed in suit, but instead of sitting, he fiddled with the curtains, as if he’d seemed more interested in the velvet fabric than you. no. he was distracting himself. he was just as nervous as you were.

your eyes went to his, then to your twiddling hands. a moment of silence had aired throughout your dorm. then you felt a dip on your bed.

“y/n/n ‘m sorry.” you looked up, his cheeks reaching even deeper level of pink. once your eyes met his, he was a stuttering mess. “it’s just—the tournament. i-i know you didn’t want me doing it and-and i don’t know i didn’t think i’d really get picked you know? then…” he made an explosion sound with his mouth and you struggled not to stifle up a giggle. you loved when he was so nervous that he just rambled on to no end and you didn’t dare to stop him just yet.

he continued on, “and i just got caught up in it? like i’d won a quidditch match, but times a hundred. maybe a thousand? and-and i didn’t want to disappoint anyone… even if the crowds are a lot. overwhelms me a bit… just wanted to hang out with you.” you looked up at him, debating whether to speak up yet. you didn’t.

“merlin, i feel horrible…” he got up from your bed and started pacing around your room. “you didn’t even want me to put my name in that cup to begin with, but my dad… he’d sounded so proud in his letter when i told him about it. i couldn’t let him down. but then you… i shouldn’t have put in.”

he continued on, “i just thought… that perhaps… i could make your proud. you always talk about how hufflepuff gets no recognition.”

me? but why?

“and i know that you didn’t even want me entering the stupid thing in the first place… but i didn’t wanna let you down.” he huffed, finally sitting back down, his fingers still fidgeting.

“you could never do that.” you simply said. it was true. there was nothing he could do that would ever disappoint you. it was quite infuriating.

“i feel like i-i already have.” that’s when you placed your hand on his, grasping his fingers to stop his nerves.

“it’s not your fault.” it really wasn’t. but you struggled to find the words as to why as you found as fingers playing with your own.

“it is. the crowds… i wanted to tell them to shove off, but i just didn’t wanna let anyone down. it’s stupid…” one of his hands found its way to his hair, tending to one of his nasty habits. once he nervously pulled at his hair and squinted his eyes shut, you finally found the words.

“it’s my fault too.” you said, he shook his head in defense. “no. i mean… i know how overwhelmed you get and i feel terrible for not realizing that soon enough. look at you! you’re a mess and i-i wish i could’ve been there. but the crowd and the people and i just-i just thought..” you felt even embarrassed to say it out loud. “you didn’t need me anymore.” you finally let out.

you could feel his eyes on you. that’s when he used his other hand to lift up your chin, bringing your wandering eyes up to his.

“i’ll always need you. look at where i’m at without you.” he chuckled, his cheeks flushing an even brighter red.

“yeah… drunk and crawling up the girl’s dormitory stairs.” you giggled. “how’d you even manage the counter-spell?”

his eyebrows furrowed, a look of confusion on his face. “i don’t quite remember…?”

“you’re not even that drunk!”

“and how do you know that?” he challenged.

“well, first of all, you managed to make it all the way up here. and second, you’re not completely incoherent.”

“yeah…” he admitted. “party’s no fun without you. i’d much rather stay here with you.” your cheeks reddened.

“well, then stay. i’ll make you a tea.” you were surprised you didn’t make a complete mess of your words.

you swiftly got up off your bed, grabbing a mug from your shelf and then a kettle, using aguamenti and then a simple water-heating charm afterwards.

“chamomile and honey?”

a/n: anyone up for a part two???? he was a lil drunk so i didn’t feel comfortable about any confessions and kissing </3 BUT I DO HAVE IDEAS FOR MORE SOOO !!!

tags: @measure-in-pain @brekkers-whore @rejectedbimbo @leilanileila @anothercoffeeblogx @cevans-winchester @trawberry-fire @nephilimsss @itszzmoon @astrovampie @cryingoverfictionalmen @boxofbadsenses @ttnaanj @iheartprettygurls @aoi-targaryen @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mystifiedgrace @ladybirdbeetle7 @celi-xxmoon (i don’t rmr how many of u wanted to be tagged for cedric </3)

taglist ₊˚⊹♡

[irrevocableloves]

(i'm sorry if this sounds weird), hi, i love violent delights A LOT! and i'm wondering if you plan on adding the other books to violent delights. keep up the good work!

Lindsay

HIIIII OMGGG TYSMMMMM and yesss i do plan adding the other books !!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️

[irrevocableloves]

gold rush

cedric diggory x fem!hufflepuff!reader

taylor swift series: part one

⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ masterlist ₊ ⊹

summary: everybody wants him, everybody wonders what it would be like to love him, but he loves you. (inspired by taylor swift’s gold rush!!!)

warnings: lil bit of angst, self-pity, mentions of alcohol, FLUFF <3

words: 1.8k

what must it be like to grow up that beautiful?

cedric diggory. the prefect of hufflepuff. the captain of the hufflepuff quidditch team. your best friend. but that was all he was... a friend.

the secret you bore that you had fallen in love with him along the way of your friendship had burned a hole into your heart, believing that deep down that he was never destined to fall for you.

sure, you'd hoped things would slowly work out in your favor. but in your eyes, it didn't seem very likely.

but to (almost) everyone else, his eyes were only on you.

everyone knew from the moment you and cedric were seen running around the halls together on the first day you were both sorted into hufflepuff that the two of you were completely enamored with one another. it could be seen in many other ways throughout the years.

cedric was a gentleman to everyone of course, but to you? he was an absolute angel. the way he'd listen to every word you had to say even if it was the most ridiculous, hold your books for you in between classes, skip his classes and take care of you if you were sick, just the way he looked at you… you swore the glint in his eyes had felt so much different. but you’d also considered that you’ve just gone completely mad…

you noticed his gestures of course, but you thought that was just cedric's nature. he was a hufflepuff wasn't he? well, he was practically the face of hufflepuff. at hogwarts, mostly everyone wasn't 100% of their house, but you were convinced cedric was the only true hufflepuff.

the girls hoarding around cedric never helped, but you never noticed the way he acted around them. uncomfortable. and not so much entertaining them, but more-so feeling guilty for them (and also because he's a a major pushover). 

with the tri-wizard competition and with cedric as a champion, the crowds piled around him. not just girls, but hufflepuffs who wanted to bash around in his glory.

you missed him. you didn't even want him to put his name in the stupid goblet to begin with, but you couldn’t bare the look of disappointment on his face when you didn’t approve of it. he thought the world of you. he wanted to do this for you, to prove that he could finally make the house you shared worthy of the limelight, to make him worth of you…. but you didn’t know that yet.

but now, every chance you had to spend with him was always ruined by the crowds stealing him away. everyday for a week since then he’d been pulled away from you. his usual spot next to you in the great hall remained empty and no one else had come to claim it, your friends knowing it was his spot. well other people tried… like when ernie didn’t make it time to be cedric’s little side-kick, he’d try to squeeze himself in beside you, but everyone hollered him off when you didn’t have the heart to.

you’d seen cedric make the effort. every single time he did, but he would be pulled away by his growing posse. sometimes you’d just wish you were able to scream, yell, or even simply ask him to stay loud enough to be heard over the boys and their banter, but alas, it never worked in your favor. you also wished that he would tell his friends that he wanted to stay back and just have at least one second with you. just one conversation. but every time he managed to get out a word of retort, his cheeks had gone so red and his voice in a fit of stutters that he’d just let his growing group lead him elsewhere.

you noticed the girls. of course you did. how could you not?

it’s not like girls had never craved the attention of cedric diggory, but after his name shot out of goblet of fire, it’d almost been too much for you.

the girls, especially those from beauxbatons, stared and erupted giggles every time he’d passed by and sent glares at you whenever he’d try and stop to talk to you, but those were always quickly interrupted by his herd of new friends. even anthony, his bestest friend, had grown tired of the crowds and relinquished back to his normal spot the great hall, matching your sighs whenever you’d hear the crowd boast over him.

one night, when you had just managed to finish hours worth of work on a history of magic paper, once you were satisfied, you let yourself bury into the covers of your bed. it was a friday night and there was a party in the hufflepuff common room to celebrate cedric once again, but you were exhausted. you’d purposefully planned to be cooped up in your room all night while the rest of your school mates partied away. no one would miss me surely.

knock knock.

you were tempted to just lay there, pretend you were asleep in hopes they would leave you to your solitude, but the fits of knocks didn’t stop and they soon turned to mutters that would make your heart almost stop completely.

“y/n? y/n/n? you awake?” cedric. even in his slightly drunken state, he was soft-spoken, only gently knocking and whispering in case you hadn’t been awake.

any other time, you would’ve gotten up immediately. but after this week, you were hesitant. it wasn’t his fault. really, it wasn’t. you couldn’t help the built up insecurities and the fact that cedric didn’t have time for you anymore. he always did before, but this time, there was just too much in the way, too many people watching his every move and wanting every bit of attention just as you did.

just as you were sure he’d left, you heard a soft huff and an odd noise hitting your door.

when you finally made your way to open the door, you slid it open gently, seeing cedric leaning up against it, sliding alongside it while you cracked it open.

you gasped at the site, grabbing cedric’s hand with the two of yours and hauling him up. “ced?” you grunted, struggling as you pulled him. “why are you here?”

“wanted to see you.” his cheeks were flushed red. he’d been drinking. not quite a lot. you knew when he’d gotten to his breaking point. right now, he’d only had a couple shots in fire whiskey him, otherwise he would’ve been completely knocked out and unintelligible. “why didn’t you come down?”

his speech was hardly slurred, he just seemed really tired.

“um…” the paper excuse sounded lame. were you really holing yourself up in your dorm all because a boy hadn’t given you his undivided attention? that excuse would never hear the light of day, but even then, you knew it was pathetic. “was tired…” now that was even more pathetic.

you sat over on your four poster bed and he followed in suit, but instead of sitting, he fiddled with the curtains, as if he’d seemed more interested in the velvet fabric than you. no. he was distracting himself. he was just as nervous as you were.

your eyes went to his, then to your twiddling hands. a moment of silence had aired throughout your dorm. then you felt a dip on your bed.

“y/n/n ‘m sorry.” you looked up, his cheeks reaching even deeper level of pink. once your eyes met his, he was a stuttering mess. “it’s just—the tournament. i-i know you didn’t want me doing it and-and i don’t know i didn’t think i’d really get picked you know? then…” he made an explosion sound with his mouth and you struggled not to stifle up a giggle. you loved when he was so nervous that he just rambled on to no end and you didn’t dare to stop him just yet.

he continued on, “and i just got caught up in it? like i’d won a quidditch match, but times a hundred. maybe a thousand? and-and i didn’t want to disappoint anyone… even if the crowds are a lot. overwhelms me a bit… just wanted to hang out with you.” you looked up at him, debating whether to speak up yet. you didn’t.

“merlin, i feel horrible…” he got up from your bed and started pacing around your room. “you didn’t even want me to put my name in that cup to begin with, but my dad… he’d sounded so proud in his letter when i told him about it. i couldn’t let him down. but then you… i shouldn’t have put in.”

he continued on, “i just thought… that perhaps… i could make your proud. you always talk about how hufflepuff gets no recognition.”

me? but why?

“and i know that you didn’t even want me entering the stupid thing in the first place… but i didn’t wanna let you down.” he huffed, finally sitting back down, his fingers still fidgeting.

“you could never do that.” you simply said. it was true. there was nothing he could do that would ever disappoint you. it was quite infuriating.

“i feel like i-i already have.” that’s when you placed your hand on his, grasping his fingers to stop his nerves.

“it’s not your fault.” it really wasn’t. but you struggled to find the words as to why as you found as fingers playing with your own.

“it is. the crowds… i wanted to tell them to shove off, but i just didn’t wanna let anyone down. it’s stupid…” one of his hands found its way to his hair, tending to one of his nasty habits. once he nervously pulled at his hair and squinted his eyes shut, you finally found the words.

“it’s my fault too.” you said, he shook his head in defense. “no. i mean… i know how overwhelmed you get and i feel terrible for not realizing that soon enough. look at you! you’re a mess and i-i wish i could’ve been there. but the crowd and the people and i just-i just thought..” you felt even embarrassed to say it out loud. “you didn’t need me anymore.” you finally let out.

you could feel his eyes on you. that’s when he used his other hand to lift up your chin, bringing your wandering eyes up to his.

“i’ll always need you. look at where i’m at without you.” he chuckled, his cheeks flushing an even brighter red.

“yeah… drunk and crawling up the girl’s dormitory stairs.” you giggled. “how’d you even manage the counter-spell?”

his eyebrows furrowed, a look of confusion on his face. “i don’t quite remember…?”

“you’re not even that drunk!”

“and how do you know that?” he challenged.

“well, first of all, you managed to make it all the way up here. and second, you’re not completely incoherent.”

“yeah…” he admitted. “party’s no fun without you. i’d much rather stay here with you.” your cheeks reddened.

“well, then stay. i’ll make you a tea.” you were surprised you didn’t make a complete mess of your words.

you swiftly got up off your bed, grabbing a mug from your shelf and then a kettle, using aguamenti and then a simple water-heating charm afterwards.

“chamomile and honey?”

a/n: anyone up for a part two???? he was a lil drunk so i didn’t feel comfortable about any confessions and kissing </3 BUT I DO HAVE IDEAS FOR MORE SOOO !!!

tags: @measure-in-pain @brekkers-whore @rejectedbimbo @leilanileila @anothercoffeeblogx @cevans-winchester @trawberry-fire @nephilimsss @itszzmoon @astrovampie @cryingoverfictionalmen @boxofbadsenses @ttnaanj @iheartprettygurls @aoi-targaryen @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mystifiedgrace @ladybirdbeetle7 @celi-xxmoon (i don’t rmr how many of u wanted to be tagged for cedric </3)

taglist ₊˚⊹♡

[irrevocableloves]

send requests ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

hii i'm taking writing requests right now !!! my asks are open !!! here are some prompts you can requests or just anything that comes to mind !!! <3

who i write for: edward cullen, cedric diggory, bruce wayne (battinson), thesues scammander, peter parker (tom or andrew)

what i will write: fluff, angst, character x reader, hufflepuff or no specific house, imagines, song fics (ts series in the making hehe), fem!reader or gn!reader

i won't write: smut, any form of abuse, pregnancy, under-age (vampires don’t count), sensitive topics (su*cide, sh, ed, etc.)

send requests here <3

[irrevocableloves]

Physical Affection Prompts

hi all! I just thought I'd make my own list of various physical affection prompts and since no idea is ever original some of these are 100% on other peoples lists but im not using other lists as reference or copying anyone. this list is for my own use and other peoples use and there's no need to credit me (though it's always nice).

reblog to have your followers send you these as prompts !! or just use them for your own writing.

all of these are meant as sfw prompts but some may seem a bit more intimate.

tracing someones face

tucking hair behind their ear

forehead kisses

desperate hugs

crying into their neck/shoulder

reversed little spoon & big spoon (the one who is normally the big spoon is the little spoon and vice versa)

holding their hand under a table

kissing their hand

kissing their collarbone

sitting with legs in their lap

morning cuddles where they're both mostly asleep and they don't want to wake up yet but they want to cuddle

petting their hair

head pats

sitting on the floor in front of them while they sit on the couch and their arms touch their legs.

holding both of their hands

hugs from behind

gently touching their waist to move past them (dont do this to someone you're not dating! dont believe I have to say this.)

grabbing their wrist or hand and turning them around

playing with their hands when nervous

slow dancing

[irrevocableloves]

violent delights

twilight rewrite! edward cullen x fem!witch!reader

chapter eight: questions & theories

previous chapter ౨ৎ masterlist ౨ৎ chapter nine

summary: after edward had mysteriously rescues her, she finally gets some answers.

warnings: violence, harassment

words: 4.6k (unedited)

All that could be heard was the shudder of my quickened breaths, not even a word coming from Edward’s mouth or even the drunken men who just stared in what was perhaps confusion? Maybe fear? Just moments ago, I could read them almost instantly. Hunger was what I felt from them. The absolute need for control. It sickened me.

I wasn’t sure what Edward had done, but the boys backed up and Edward made his way back into the car. I hurried and put my seatbelt on before he revved the engine and pulled forward. I couldn’t help but gasp as the men fell over as they backed away. Then he backed up swiftly, making the sharpest turn around that swished my insides. Even then, I still felt the safest I’ve ever been.

He raced down past the building and pulled onto the street, not even stopping at the sign or even waiting for someone to let him in. Honks blared past him, but not one flinch. As he raced down the street, I took the time to study him. His jaw was clenched, his hands gripped the wheel, his expression was full of fury; it looked as if he wasn’t even breathing at all.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice squeaked. I winced hearing my voice coming out so frail. 

“No.” He was fuming.

I was surprised when he’d made a complete stop at the side of the road. I didn’t realize I’d been looking at him the whole time when he finally stopped to look towards me, not even reaching my eye.

“Y/N?” he asked as softly as he could, although I could still hear the strains of anger.

“Yeah?”

“Are you all right?” His eyes met mine for a split second.

“I–I think so…” I don’t think I was. I was too shocked by it all.

“Do you think you can distract me?” he just about pleaded.

From just looking at him, I didn’t need to question his need for a diversion. But, what was there to say? The days without him had left me in a heap of depression and utter sense of boredom at school. I racked my brain of anything that seemed amusing, scratching out my search for vampires and the constant dreams I had of him that left me a sweating mess on my sheets.

“Tyler Crowley–he–um kept telling everyone he was taking me to prom? I think? I don’t really remember, I kinda tuned it out…” I admitted. I should’ve been more angry about it, but the absence of Edward had hit me a lot harder.

“I heard about that.” He seemed to be controlling his breaths.

“Really? Was I the last one to hear about this?” I tried to lighten the mood, it seemed to work when I was rewarded a slight chuckle. “If he thinks taking me to prom is making up for almost killing me, then I’ll just run him over with my car and make it even.”

I saw his mouth twitch a bit with my remark, almost forcing itself not to crack a smile. I decided to speak up again. “What’s wrong?”

“My temper. Sometimes it gets out of control.” He was whispering, ashamed of what he couldn’t control. “It’s taking everything in me not to turn around and hunt those animals. The vile, repulsive things they were thinking…” 

I know. I didn’t dare speak that aloud. I felt like I was losing my mind. Could he too hear their thoughts or were they as clear as day?

“It wouldn’t help to turn around and do it… or even run them over… At least that’s what I’m trying to  convince myself.”

A part of me wished that he would… hunt them down. The part of me that was completely exposed. The one that was forced to hear their thoughts. Unless I’d imagined it… but it wouldn’t have been too far off from reality.

“Jessica and Angela,” I broke the brief silence, realizing that it had been at least 20 minutes since I’d last contacted them. “I was supposed to meet them, they’re probably worried...”

Without another word, he started the engine. Yet again, racing through the streets in a blur. He parallel parked in a spot with ease, right in front of La Bella Italia. My eyebrows furrowed. From the time I’d told him about meeting the girls to our arrival at the restaurant, I never mentioned the location once.

In my swift time of thought, he’d already been opening my door.

 “What’re you doing?” I asked him.

“I’m taking you to dinner,” he said as if it was so plainly obvious. 

I fumbled with my seatbelt as my mind raced about as fast as Edward’s driving. Finally, I stepped out.

Just as we were entering, Jessica and Angela walked out, the both of them sighing with relief. Right as they were about to speak, they noticed the brooding, tall man beside me and their worried looks had faded, instead replaced with a red tint in their cheeks.

“Sorry I kept Y/N from dinner. We ran into each other and got talking.” Edward was the one to speak first. I was grateful. I couldn’t even bear to tell them what happened, at least not yet, I didn’t want to worry them. 

“We understand, yeah!” Jessica was completely flustered along with Angela.

“Would it be all right if I joined you?” he asked. He had a way with people, one that left them absolutely breathless. The girls were left in stutters.

“Um! Y-yeah sure!” Jessica breathed. Edward smirked.

“Um, actually, Y/N, we already ate while we were waiting — sorry," Angela confessed. 

“That’s okay! I’m not really that hungry anyways.” I shrugged. With all the nerves with Edward here, I wasn’t sure if I would even be able to stomach anything.

“I really think you should eat something,” Edward said in a low voice, leaning down to speak into my ear. I looked up at him, trying to cover up the fact that I was in complete awe. I simply nodded back at him as if I was in a trance.

“Sure, yeah.” I tried to say as composed as possible. 

He looked back to the two girls, then spoke, “Do you mind if I drive Y/N home tonight? That way the two of you aren’t left waiting.”

Jessica and Angela looked to me for an answer. I gave them a nod with a smile. This was exactly what I needed. A night to finally ask all of my unanswered questions from my brooding savior.

“Yeah! Not a problem! See you tomorrow, Y/N/N,” Jessica chirped.

“Bye Y/N,” Angela leaned in for a hug. “And Edward, thanks for staying and taking her home.” She smiled at him. He responded back with a tight, but genuine smile.

Once they left, Edward guided me towards the entrance,holding the door open for me. My heart skipped a beat. I walked through the door, immediately being greeted by a host. Actually, only Edward was greeted by the host. Just from the look in her eyes, I knew she was instantly enamored by his presence, a feeling that was all too familiar with practically anyone that laid their eyes on him. 

As she spoke, she never broke eye contact with him, not once looking towards me. I hated that it bothered me. The way she smiled at him, giggling at him once he spoke — it made me feel small.

“A table for two?” Her eye contact was still left unbroken, but when I looked towards Edward, his eyes were only on me. My breath trembled.

When she led us to a larger table, one that was meant for four, Edward spoke up, “Perhaps something more private?” He asked the host with a quick glance towards her before slyly pulling out a tip for her. Then his eyes were back on me. 

“Sure,” she said alluringly, still trying to catch Edward’s undivided attention. She led us over to the quieter area of the restaurant, with a ring of small booths lined up. “How’s this?” 

“Perfect.” He flashed a smile at her, one that had absolutely left her awed.

”Um-” she stuttered, “your server will be right out.” She walked away, still making glances back towards Edward.

“Wow.” That was all that I could possibly utter after that interaction.

“What?”

“You really shouldn’t do that to people.” I finally found my voice. “It’s hardly fair.”

“Do what?”

”Dazzle them like that.” I couldn’t possibly think of a word more fitting. “She’s probably hyperventilating in the kitchen right now.”

His eyebrows furrowed, which surprised me. Did he really not notice this effect he has on people?

“I dazzle people?” His head tilted to one side, his eyes full of curiosity.

“Oh, come on.” I giggled. “Do you really think everyone gets their way so easily?”

He ignored my question completely. “Do I dazzle you?”

I froze for a moment before asking, “What do you think?”

“Now that’s the real question…” He mumbled. He looked frustrated.

Thankfully, before I could even form a response, our server arrived, her eyes gleaming. Once again, another woman dazzled by just the mere presence of Edward Cullen.

“Hi. My name’s Amber and I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get you to drink?” She only looked at Edward and I noticed that his eyes, again, were on me.

“A Coke.” I said rather bland to the server.

“Two Cokes,” he said.

“I’ll be right back with that.” She shot him another smile, one that was completely unnecessary as his eyes still remained on me.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Fine?” I’d completely forgotten about the reason why he was here with me in the first place. I hated that. The way that every thought bolted out of my mind when it came to him, it was quite frustrating.

“You’re not a little shaken up? Dizzy, sick, cold…?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, I’ve always been pretty good at repressing unpleasant things.” And he was far from that.

He nodded. “Well, I’ll feel better once you have something in your system.”

Just after that, the server came back with our drinks and a basket of breadsticks. To make him feel better, I grabbed one to nibble on.

“Are you ready to order?” she asked Edward, her back facing me.

“Y/N?” he asked. She looked back at me uninterested. I tried my hardest to swallow my tongue.

I glanced at the menu, picking the first thing that my eyes fell to. “I’ll have the Fettuccine Alfredo.”

“And you?” She turned back to him with a smile.

“Nothing for me.” I knew it.

The server gave him a coy smile. “Just let me know if you change your mind.”

He pushed my drink towards me, nodding at it for me to drink. The waiter left disappointed.

Once the glass was in front of me, I sipped on it, forgetting how dehydrated I actually was. In under a minute, the soda was gone and embarrassingly enough, I was still thirsty.

I saw him push the other coke towards me. I gave him a smile, deciding to take small sips from it.

“Cold?” He asked. 

I felt a shiver down my spine and this time it wasn’t from Edward, but from the Coke that I’d chugged and the one that I was currently sipping on. 

Before I could even nod, he shrugged off his gray coat, one that looked a little too nice for a teenage boy. Underneath, he wore a casual dark blue button down with the two buttons loose to reveal a dark gray undershirt.

Once he handed me his coat, I was broken from my trance. I slid my arm into his coat, oddly, it was cold, almost as if I’d left it in my car that was drowning in snow from the night before. But in just seconds, the coat had warmed to my touch. Once it was on, I pushed back the sleeves as they were far too long on me…

“You sure you're alright? Normally a person would’ve gone into shock.” He pushed the breadsticks in front of me and I gladly served myself another.

Why was that? I couldn’t really make out a sane answer as to why my reaction didn’t amount to one of a normal person. There was truly only one answer. Him.

“I feel safe with you,” I confessed. 

His head went down, his eyes to the floor with a furrowed brow.

“I’m not… good for you.” He shook his head, his eyes still facing the ground.

“Your eyes are black again.” I saw his expression change, he looked back up at me, his eyebrows furrowed yet again, but this time in a state of confusion rather than disappointment. “I noticed your moods change according to your eye color, it’s quite interesting actually. One of my new theories.”

“So there’s more theories?” He had a faint smile and I could sense that he was a bit intrigued.

“Well I’m not gonna force it out of you. Just makes me feel a bit more sane.” He nodded at my response, his smile peeking a bit more in the corners of his mouth. 

“And what are these new theories?”

When the waitress came over, we both realized how close we were sitting and immediately straightened out. She set the dish in front of me and then turned to Edward.

“Did you change your mind? Isn’t there anything I can get you?” she asked him. 

“No, thank you.” Then gestured towards me. 

I looked around at the table, realizing I’d already finished the second coke. “Maybe just some water.” I gave her a tight smile.

She nodded, only smiling at Edward, then took the empty glasses off the table and walked off.

“So, those theories?” He moved closer to me.

“I’ll tell you later in the car. Only if I can ask you a few questions.”

“Done,” he said immediately, I was a bit surprised.

“Why are you here?” I started.

“To have dinner with you,” he said as if it were obvious.

“No, I mean Port Angeles. It’s an hour drive – you knew I was here.”

“Next.”

“C’mon, I gotta have at least some answers if you won’t tell me the big one.”

“Next,” he repeated.

I tried hard to not look as frustrated as I actually was. I shouldn’t have. I should feel grateful and not poke my head in where it didn’t belong. But I couldn’t help the pull I felt towards him, the need to know him. Instead, I pulled my focus towards the steaming food in front of me, twisting the noodles on my fork and sticking them in my mouth. It was actually delicious.

The waitress came back with two waters without another word.

“Okay.” I took a sip of my water before speaking up again. “So… let’s say, hypothetically, someone could know what people are thinking. Read minds, you know?” I wasn’t even sure if this question was regarding me or him, but I was intrigued either way.

“Hypothetically?” He asked, amused.

“Mhm.” I nodded. “So, how does it work? How is it that someone could find another person at the right time and just know that they’re in trouble?”

“Well, hypothetically, it shouldn’t take that someone any mind reading at all to know just how much trouble you get into in a town with absolutely no trouble.” He chuckled.

I only just looked at him, waiting for him to tell me the truth or not. Just from my look, he seemed frustrated, as if he was battling a war in his mind of whether or not he should tell me the truth.

“You can trust me, you know?” Without a second thought I reached my hands towards his, but he pulled them away. My face was tinted red. I was glad his eyes were still to the floor.

“I was wrong about you.” He admitted. “You're much more observant than I gave you credit for.”

“Thought you were always right.”

“I used to be.” He finally looked at me. “But, you proved me wrong.”

He spoke up again before I could respond. “I was wrong about something else, too.”

“You’re not a magnet for accidents. No… that’s not a broad enough classification. You are a magnet for trouble. If there is anything dangerous within a ten-mile radius, it will inevitably find you.”

“And you think that’s you?” I guessed. 

Just from his expression, I knew I was right. His face turned cold, in another effort to shut me out completely. 

“Unequivocally,” he said.

My hands stretched across the table again as they had a mind of its own. Even as he pulled away, my hands persisted, shadowing over the back of his hand, feeling his skin with my fingertips. It was cold, like stone. Familiar. Like in my dream. Once the cold started to dissipate from my fingertips, I slowly inched my hand back…

I wasn’t the only one who noticed it. Edward looked down at where my fingertips once laid, a bewildered look on his face. To break his focus, I cleared my throat, muttering, “Thank you,” I started. He looked up at me, trying hard to not glance back down at his hand. I continued “For saving me… again…”

“Let’s hope there isn’t a third.” He said, his usual condescending self resurfacing. He placed both of his hands under the table, pulling himself back into our conversation.

“I followed you to Port Angeles,” he admitted. “I feel protective over you.” His expression seemed like he didn’t know why himself, but he continued on, “I've never tried to keep a specific person alive before, and it's much more troublesome than I would have believed. But that's probably just because it's you. Ordinary people seem to make it through the day without so many catastrophes.”

It should’ve bothered me, but it didn’t. Instead, I felt content over the fact that this connection wasn’t imaginary. He felt it to the point where he felt the need to protect me. Nothing about this was normal, but I seemed to not be fazed by it at all. So, why should I fight it? The only thing I was determined to fight was the smile that threatened to curve on my lips. 

“Did you ever think that maybe my number was up the first time, with the van, and that you've been interfering with fate?" I speculated, distracting myself.

“That wasn't the first time," he murmured. “Your number was up the first time I met you." 

My breath hitched. But somehow, the memory didn’t bother me anymore, not when I felt the safety I felt with him right now. Not when he’d gone beyond faith and saved me twice.

"You remember?" he asked.

"Yes." I was as calm as ever. 

“And yet here you sit." There was a trace of disbelief in his voice; he raised one eyebrow.

"Yes, here I sit… because of you." I paused. “Because somehow you always manage to find me?”

He studied me, his expression guarded. His eyes flashed down to my plate, then returned to mine.

“You eat, I'll talk," he bargained. 

I looked down at my now, lukewarm food, realizing how long it’s been since I’d taken a bite. I filled up my fork and ate in return for his explanation.

“It's harder than it should be — keeping track of you. Usually I can find someone very easily, once I've heard their mind before…" He glanced at me with anxiety, and I noticed I had tensed up. I forced myself to swallow, then piled up my fork again for another bite.

“I kept loose tabs on Jessica, knowing only you could find trouble in Port Angeles. At first I didn’t notice when you roamed off on your own – her thoughts were quite scrambled. Then, when I realized you’d left them, I went looking for you at the bookstore I saw in her head. I could tell you hadn’t gone in yet – you’d gone south. I searched through the thoughts of people on the street just to see if anyone saw you. I was strangely anxious…”  He trailed off, lost in thought, his gaze distant.

“I drove in circles, still… listening. The sun was setting, and I was considering following you on foot. But then—" He paused, teeth clenched in sudden fury, making an effort to regain composure.

“Then what?" I whispered. He continued to stare towards the floor. 

“I heard what they were thinking," he growled, his upper lip curling slightly back over his teeth. So could I, even if it was just for a moment. “I saw your face in their minds." He was struggling to compose his anger as his entire face twitched up.

His hands were now in his face to contain his fury. “It was very… hard — you can't imagine how hard it was for me to simply take you away, and leave them… alive." I was holding in a gasp. But, still… somehow… I wasn’t afraid of him. 

“I could have let you go with Jessica and Angela, but I was afraid if you left me alone, I would go looking for them," he admitted in a whisper. I sat quietly, dazed, my thoughts incoherent. My hands were folded in my lap, and I was leaning weakly against the back of the seat. He still had his face in his hand, and he was as still as if he'd been carved from the stone his skin resembled. 

Finally he looked up, his eyes seeking mine, full of his own questions. 

“Are you ready to go home?" he asked. The waitress had come over almost immediately after Edward muttered the words.

I nodded, satisfied that I’d be the one spending an hour long drive with him, one that would further my answers to my long-awaited questions.

“How are we doing?" she asked Edward. 

“We're ready for the check, thank you." He was a lot more reserved than earlier. His charming smirk had been replaced with a brooding expression, still reflecting the strain of our conversation. The waitress seemed to notice the change and looked a bit disoriented from it.

“S-sure," she stuttered. “Here you go." Before she even pulled out the check, a bill was already in his hand. He slipped it into the folder and handed it right back to her. 

“No change." He gave her a tight smile, then stood up. Meanwhile, I scrambled awkwardly up to my feet. 

She smiled invitingly at him again. “You have a nice evening." He didn't look away from me as he thanked her. I didn’t even bother to smile. Walking out, he was close beside me, but still careful not to touch me.

He opened the passenger door, holding it for me as I stepped in, shutting it softly behind me. I should’ve been used to this. But as I watched him circle around the car, so effortless and graceful, I couldn’t help but think of how I was so utterly astonished by him.

Once inside the car, he started the engine and turned the heater on high. I was grateful, because even in the warmth of his coat, the temporary chill of the car had left me in shivers and a cold breath. I didn’t even notice Edward weaving through traffic, as I usually did, but we were now on the freeway. That’s when he finally slowed down to a normal pace, for now…

“Now, about those theories…" he said, his usual smirk and smugness creeping its way back.

“I still have more questions,” I revealed. “Just one.”

He only nodded, staring me down, not even paying attention to the road.

“What am I thinking right now?”

He sighed. “Now that. That’s the most frustrating thing of all.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I waited for an answer.

“I can read every mind… apart from yours.”

My breath hitched. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“I hear voices in my mind and you think there’s something wrong with you?” So, I’m a double freak. I should’ve told him that I heard them too, even if it was only for a few moments… But if he could have secrets, so could I.

“How does it work?”

“Mostly, it’s like being in a huge hall filled with everyone speaking at once. It's just a hum — a buzzing of voices in the background. It’s not until I focus on one voice and that’s when their thoughts are clear.” He paused for a moment. “Most of the time I tune it all out — it can be very distracting. And then it's easier to seem normal.” It seemed agonizing.

“Why do you think you can’t hear me?”  I asked 

curiously.

“The only guess I have is that maybe your mind doesn't work the same way the rest of theirs do. Like your thoughts are on the AM frequency and I'm only getting FM." He grinned at 

me, suddenly amused.

“So you’re telling me that my mind doesn’t work right?” I chuckled, but really, his words unsettled me. It hit a nerve, tapping into a fear I’d always dreaded might be true. 

“Don’t worry, it’s just a theory… which brings us back to yours.”

I froze. Suddenly, saying it out loud made me feel foolish. Despite all my research and seemingly reliable conversations – I still felt like I was losing my mind.

He noticed my silence. “I won’t laugh,” he said, scrunching his grin into a line. 

I took a deep breath before I started. “So, I ran into an old friend – Jacob Black, an old family friend of mine… His dad is one of the Quileute elders.” I noticed his expression change, his jaw clenching.

“At La Push, he told me a few old legends – I think he was trying to scare me. But, he told me one…” I was distracted by the Forks welcome sign as Edward slowed down – I should’ve known that the hour-long car ride would be cut short from Edward’s driving habits. 

Right as I was about to continue onto my theory, my attention shifted to the flashing police lights and sirens as we were nearing the police station. Then, my dad’s cruiser parked right in front.

“My dad’s still here… Can you pull in?” I asked.

“That’s my father’s car in the end. What’s he doing here?”

Once he pulled in, we both exited the car, meeting Carisle as he walked down the steps of the police station.

“Carlisle. What happened?”

“Waylon Forge was found in a boat out near his place. I just examined the body.” 

Flashes of images consumed me. The boat. Red. So much red. In a blur, the flash of crimson red was surrounded by pale bodies devouring the deceased Waylon Forge.

“Y/N?” A voice interrupted the images, a shake and then a cold hand on my face is what I felt before I opened my eyes.

I squinted from the flashes of the red and blue police lights. With each blink, my vision cleared and in front of me was Edward – wearing an expression I’d never quite seen from him before: fear. 

And I felt it too, more than ever.

His once cold hand warmed on my face, almost tingling. But this time, he didn’t move it. 

“Y/N?” Carlisle interrupted over Edward’s shoulder. “Are you feeling faint?”

“No.” I cleared my throat. Edward had finally let go, but that warmth of his touch lingered severely. “I’m fine, thank you. Just… just shock… H-he died?” I stuttered. “How?”

I knew exactly how. The images from just seconds ago flickered. My heart pounded and my breath picked up from just the memory of it. The blood. Waymond’s blood. His lifeless body being torn apart by those three figures… Vampires.

Carlisle sighed. “Animal attack.”

next chapter

a/n: i'm so sorry i haven't updated in forever ..........

tags: @measure-in-pain @brekkers-whore @rejectedbimbo @leilanileila @anothercoffeeblogx @cevans-winchester @trawberry-fire @nephilimsss @itszzmoon @astrovampie @cryingoverfictionalmen @boxofbadsenses @ttnaanj @iheartprettygurls @aoi-targaryen @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mystifiedgrace @ladybirdbeetle7 @celi-xxmoon @quinnieloves @valeriegraham @renesmeviolets @justicexjustice @bubs-world @eir964 @turnintoclown @tiniewife

(if ur username is here and u didn't get a notif just dm me and i'll dm u when there's an update <3)

taglist ₊˚⊹♡

[irrevocableloves]

Some Unholy War | Theseus Scamander (IV)

SUMMARY: Theseus was always talented in thinking clearly. Logically. He wanted you to be wrong, but your instincts pushed you to keep moving. It was the only way to stay one step ahead of Sinclair. It contrasted Theseus’ plan to stay put within the walls of the Ministry. You contrasted his very being. 

PAIRING: Theseus Scamander x f!reader  

WORD COUNT: 1.1K

WARNINGS: canon-typical things, flashback of sorts, mutual pining, semi enemies-to- lovers, always a protective Theseus, SLOW burn, etc.

A/N: HELLO. Again, this took me longer than I would have liked. So, rather than rushing it, I’m going to break it up into two parts…I’m going to take a lil break to get my head together, but I’m v excited in how this second part is going to go!!! So, stay tuned…As always, thank you, @kalllistos​​​​. Comments are always welcomed. Enjoy.

PART I, PART II, PART III

Keep reading

[irrevocableloves]

CAUGHT IN A CROSSFIRE

BETRAYAL — ; PART 8 / 9

PAIRING: Theseus Scamander x Female!Reader WORD COUNT: 2.7k SUMMARY: Awakening in an unfamiliar setting with restored memories, you encounter someone familiar. However, a lingering sense of betrayal clouds the reunion. Meanwhile, Theseus uncovers a concealed message in your letters, hinting at the potential discovery of your location. A/N: Hi everyone! I know I said I was going to put this on permanent hiatus until I was ready to pick it up again, but your girl finished her degree (kinda did badly, but glad it's over!), and now I have ample time to put all my energy of my one brain cell into finishing this series before I fall into depression again lol. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this and thank you for all the love for this series and my baby, Theseus <3 I'm also sorry for ending it with another cliffhanger haha WARNINGS: Angst. Kinda scary shit (I literally scared myself while writing this lol) no beta we die like men. MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

Your environment is an enigma through the lenses of tunnel vision—hues of darkness circle in textures, contrasts of colour that dance along with your darting eyes. Your slow mind tries to keep up with your sight, unravelling the mysteries of your surroundings.

You first notice wood. Brown, battered, dim–a wooden beam trailing along the expanse of plastered white walls, grimed with dirt and age. Through blinkered sight, you catch a glimpse of light, dim orange hues casting fluttering shadows on the wall. You see it now, a flame dancing upon melting wax perched on a rustic candlestick. 

Flame. Fire. Heat.

You remember it all now.

Inferno swept through the foundations of your tiny household, leaving you and the fragility of your lungs gasping for air as you stumbled around for an exit. Yet, things were dense, billowing colours of deep grey and red, blinding your vision. You still feel the parchedness scratching down your throat. 

You remember how your hands clambered to grasp something before falling to your knees. You remember how your environment began to twist and spurn before your very eyes, vivid colours of the blaze swirling.

Then, everything went black.

…

…You…

You remember emerald cobblestones—a mesmerising golden statue.

You remember the warmth of the colour red – the trees in fall, the crackling of a fireplace, a desk with scattered papers across its surface. 

You remember.

Theseus.

Dim blue eyes. Sad. Freckled cheeks. Flushed. Brown hair curled and tumbled in autumnal hues. Trees. Barcham trees that line the sidewalk are carpeted in autumn gold. The tenement. His home. Warm, petite, charming. Gardenias. Tea. Your suitcase. Magic.

Little glimpses of returning memories flood your whirling mind like gushing water. It’s overwhelming. For weeks, you sat with a sense of longing, a missing piece, settled within the depths of your mind. And now, it all traces back to the odd familiarity of the man you met on the bus. Perhaps you recognised the glint in his eye when his eyes met yours or the patterned freckles along his cheeks, tinted in blotches of red from embarrassment.

You remember.

Your elbows immediately shift under you, perched as you rose midway, wondering yet blurry eyes moving along your surroundings. You’re in a room, and it’s not your own. Small, humble, solid walls encircle your surroundings. You have seen places like these during the war. You push yourself up, weight now on your splayed-out palms on what you realise to be a settee. It creaks at your very touch, and every little shift echoes throughout the room.

Its walls are far from pristine, with petite flowers scattered across the yellowed wallpaper with tears at its curling edges, perfectly still yet timeworn.

Your eyes trace the trails of sunlight that glow through the room, diluted by a translucent curtain that hangs before a window, shadows of a tree swaying in the gentle wind.

There’s a bed on the far left of the room, narrow and meticulously made with a quilt reminiscent of autumn hues. You can barely distinguish its patchwork from where you are, and it itches a part of your brain – a sense of familiarity.

Before you can make sense of that feeling, you are overcome with searing pain. Tearing through your head and coursing through the very confinements of your skull as if something was begging to break free from the back of your mind.

Eyes squeezed shut, you cannot help but bring your palms to the sides of your head, the heels of your hands harshly pinned to your temples, yet all you see are flashing lights dancing around in the darkness. 

Then, a flash. White. Blinding.

At that moment, you found yourself transported to an apartment. Yellow-bricked, warm honey-coloured hues of Autumn. Golden, falling leaves. Bright eyes, cheeks tinged with a touch of red. Theseus looks at you like you’re the sun. Like you hold a weight of significance, a tapestry to his existence.

“I know I’ve said this a thousand time before, but I’m sorry. Truly. You don’t deserve to be involved in this.”

You feel yourself smile; tears threaten to slip from your saddened eyes. 

“I would usually say it’s alright, but I don’t think I can say it for everything that has happened. But, thank you.” 

A hand reaches for his, gentle and soft to the touch. You feel his fingers twitch under your hold.

“Truly.”

Theseus looks at you like you’re the sun.

Theseus looks at you…

Theseus…

Suddenly, you find yourself in a narrow bus. You see him blinking wide-eyed at you, his expression paled. You had said – no, asked something. 

“No. I don’t think we do.”

You see it, the pain in his eyes, the sadness in his tone. It clenches your heart, but you don’t know why.

That was the first time he had lied to you.

…

You hear your name.

Distant but frantic. It repeats again and again and again.

A grip on the curve of your shoulders, and you find yourself back in the narrow, unknown room you awoke in moments ago.

But then you see his eyes, his tousled hair. It’s him who calls you.

“Theseus?” you breathed, disbelief flickering in your wide eyes. Without a second thought, your hands reach out to grasp his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his dress shirt as if to ground yourself in the reality of his presence. A counterpoint to the disarray within your mind.  

But as Theseus meets your gaze, a furrow forms on his brow, and a shadow eclipses the warmth in his eyes. The frown, subtle yet profound, settles an uneasiness in you. Your grip weakens.

“We need to go. Now.” His tone is cut-throat, laden with urgency, and you cannot help but jolt at his words. You find your fingers slowly releasing their hold as the weight of his statement settles in the room.

He pulls away and reaches for your elbow, swift and deliberately, that reflects the gravity of the situation. His touch is so firm that it prompts you to stand. Questions hang heavy in the air, but you know you’re in some kind of trouble. Yet, you catch your eyes lingering on the dark look in his own, and you can't help but think he's changed since you last saw him. Since you last remembered him.

Something feels…wrong, but you don’t give yourself a chance to even think about it before you’re being led out the door. 

The narrow corridor stretches ahead, dimly lit, bricked walls with a single lamp casting a glow across the space, revealing its worn walls and your flickering shadows. The air is cool, carrying a faint scent of dampness that permeates the space. All you hear is footsteps reverberating along the narrow passage, echoing against the walls. You realise you are underground and feel your stomach lurch at that thought, making your skin crawl.

“Come on.” Theseus pulls you along, the grip on your elbow never weakening. You can feel the tension emanating from him, the stiffness in his movements, the rigidity of his jaw.

You find yourself staring at the back of Theseus' head, studying how the dim light catches on his hair. He seems so different.

“Where are we going?” You finally ask.

He doesn’t respond.

Theseus continues to pull you down the corridor, and you take the time to scan your surroundings despite the quickened pace. You see the occasional rusty pipes that snake along the ceiling, contributing to a low mechanical hum and the flickering of overhead lights that seem to swing periodically at a light rumble that makes the ground shake for a second or two.

Then, he eventually comes to an abrupt halt, revealing a dead end. Your feet stagger back, trying to stop yourself from bumping into him. You see Theseus' brows furrowed in thought, eyes darting between the walls, searching. His fingers trace the rugged surface and abruptly pause as you catch sight of a carving on a specific brick, nearly invisible.

Theseus taps it, and a warm glow emanates from the wall. The carving becomes illuminated, and the wall seems to dissolve into seemingly ethereal dust. It shines golden under the dim buzzing lights. What once was a wall reveals an entrance to an alleyway; it greets you with a rush of cool air and the sounds of the city.

You step through the entrance after Theseus as he beckons for you to follow hurriedly. Yet, your focus is elsewhere as you close in on the intricate symbol carved into the brick. As you inch nearer, the features sharpen, and a sudden recognition sparks within you.

It's a Gardenia, delicately depicted.

Gardenias always had a particular significance in your life, and it’s all because of your mother. That same Gardenia on your mother’s necklace is an heirloom that spanned many generations. It was important and personal to her, and you don’t know how or why it is doing here.

Flowers for your mother – a bouquet of Gardenias.

The bigger picture materialises as if the puzzle pieces are beginning to click.

Your place in the unfolding mess remains unclear, but it hints that you've anticipated the arrival of this revelation for a long time.

Theseus is calling for you, a slight note of panic in his voice, but you ignore his calls, remaining rooted in place. As you watch the glow that details the symbol disappear, you wonder if Theseus knows everything, even though you swore you never told a soul.

Unless…

You still don’t know how you got your memories back.

As you finally turn to Theseus, there’s a gripping sense of uncertainty. His approach, marked by a frustrated expression, erodes the strong familiarity you once held for this man, a trust built in such a short time. With each step towards you, that trust begins to dissipate.

That vulnerability quickly turns to anger – betrayal.

“What the hell is happening, Theseus?” you question fiercely, pressing him for an explanation. 

Again, Theseus dismisses your insistence and attempts to reach for your arm, but you instinctively step back, maintaining a wary distance. 

“Answer me.” you insist, voice growing louder, eyes boring into his.

His gaze lingers on your face, and you watch his expression harden, jaw tense.

“Look, you’re in deep trouble right now and it’s best we leave right now he’ll come looking for you.”

He.

Not they. Not she.

Not The Restoration Movement. Not Morrigan.

Something is very wrong.

And his eyes. You can’t quite place it, but something about the look in his eyes has shifted. They look so different.

In moments like these, you aren’t sure what to do, but you know to trust your gut. Your mind races at the possibilities of how this could all end, and the only thing you can think is to run.

And so, you run.

—

Theseus believes he has only survived through self-deceit – the deception of his ability to stay grounded and keep his emotions at bay. His heart was never to be trusted, never to give in or give up. Yet, how does one cope when a situation relies on promised perseverance but is tangled amid his emotions he suddenly lacks control of in your presence?

Theseus knows there was something between the two of you, but he will never admit it despite his now aching heart caused by your sudden disappearance, even though you might as well be considered dead to the muggle world. The thought of your death pulls his thoughts to the night he first met you, how an unforgivable curse nearly struck you, how you looked at him, knowing you couldn’t have survived if he hadn’t been there in time. 

Merlin, he hopes you aren’t dead.

No, you’re not. He knows it. You’re relentless. So relentless that death would never want to claim you without a fight. So relentless that you manage to squeeze yourself into his thoughts at every waking hour. Every fibre in him wishes he hadn’t let you slip away that day, wishing he hadn’t abandoned you, betrayed your trust.

He wishes you hadn’t agreed to leave.

To leave him.

Now all alone.

Alone.

Theseus was never certain of his feelings for you when you were ambling within the expanse of the four walls he calls home. Whether affections were simply out of pity or was it his admiration for your entire being, your perfections, blemishes, and everything in between. Yet, at this very moment, he couldn’t be more unequivocally sure that his affections are true because presently, you have consumed all his waking days and nights, leaving a hollowed space perhaps once filled by your presence. The constant worry in his brow made his eyes tired but sleepless due to his fear of the worst for you.

Dread fills his senses, and tears threaten to seep through the cracks of a carefully sculpted, hard-headed man he had spent years practising, performing as a so-called war hero. Theseus never let himself cry, especially over you, not even when you parted with a touch to his cheek. Not even when he set his eyes on you again and you were completely unaware of him. 

Yet, it’s the possibility he has lost you forever that he’ll never see you again. Never.

Theseus breathes a shaky breath, fingers clamped in his trembling hand as he tries to remember what he’s been told to do. To find you. To stop Morrigan. To stop whatever mess he has landed you in.

No, you’re not. You’re not dead. He reminds himself again.

The sun had set moments ago, darkness creeping between the cracks of light, shimmering from the candle alight by his tableside and the flames of the fireplace. Its crackling grounds his very notion of stirring into panic. Theseus finds himself tucked in the same corner of his living room, and his couch now houses a collection of books and particular pieces of evidence of your whereabouts.

He merely fears this has everything to do with Morrigan, the Restoration Movement, your supposed living brother and perhaps your mother – also dead. Theseus gains a strong premonition, a gut feeling that your disappearance is all a part of a larger plan than he had initially expected. Your disappearance may have caused a flurry of commotion amongst the Aurors. Still, the ministry has its sights on the movement rather than your supposed connection as more than just your brother, which Theseus feels strongly about. Yet, with Travers breathing down his neck to arrest Morrigan and her acolytes, Theseus needs solid evidence rather than vague instances and misdirected clues that all seem to lead to spiralling trails.

Frankly, his career is at stake, but he couldn’t care less.

He just wants to see you again.

Theseus heaves, fingers carding through his deep brown locks when his eye catches sight of the only two letters that he found to be related to you in one way or another. He finds himself drawn to it, finding the letter from your brother within his grasp for what seems like the millionth time this month. The same words, again and again, were already engraved in his mind.

When he shifts his elbow, the letter catches the candlelight from behind, and something immediately seizes his attention. Something he hadn’t recognised before now.

Inscribed in the very material of the parchment – the symbol of a Gardenia, its intricate lines glowing against the candlelight, seemingly burning. Theseus props up in his seat, back straightened, shoulders tensed, and eyes wide.

Bloody hell…

He scrambles for the other letter, holding it up against the light, eyes settling on the darkened edges of the page only to discover the very same symbol.

A Gardenia.

How could he have been so blind?

It must have been instinct when he decided that the two letters were puzzle pieces meant to be joined. Theseus would try anything at this point.

Seemingly, luck was finally on his side when he pressed the letters together, above one another – new words formed before his eyes, written with burning lines, every curve of each letter appeared between the gaps of the original text to only form a new paragraph.

Sister,

If you're reading this, I'm likely gone, and you're in trouble. Morrigan and The Restoration Movement hide a darker truth. Their agenda involves our mother and a woman named Miriam Monet. I'm unsure of the details, but Miriam plays a crucial role. Stay safe.

As his eyes shift down the page, his heart nearly stops when his name comes into view.

To Theseus,

If you see this, my sister is in danger. You know more than you think.

TAGLIST (tagging everyone who commented in my last post just because it's been awhile <3):

@crumpets-are-better-with-jam

@inlovewithfictionalcharacters27

@aterriblelangblr

@yournewmommy

@mariaelizabeth21-blog1

@never-let-them-change-your-self

[irrevocableloves]

yeah I got a problem

[irrevocableloves]

obsessed, quite frankly, with how katniss resents love, resents how deeply she loves. she was completely traumatized by her mom’s emotional withdrawal after the death of her father, and made the decision pretty much thereafter to never love someone else that way. and the fact that she goes through the trilogy absolutely refusing to call what she feels for peeta love, even when it absolutely, 1000% is, because she refuses to acknowledge that vulnerability within herself… oh it’s so good. it’s so good. the fact that recognizing love within herself is equivalent to shoving a knife in her eye is so good. i love this character

[irrevocableloves]

Thinking again about how Suzanne esentially subverted the "beloved famous man that is actually a horrible person in real life" with Finnick, who is the complete opposite of that.

Finnick has this whole image costructed around him by the people that abused him for years: the Capitol's darling, their golden boy, the sex symbol of Panem, the man that has countless lovers but leaves them constantly and doesn't look back etc. And you would expect, initially, to meet a man that retains at least a part of that persona in his day to day life. But Finnick doesn't, not even one bit.

You see instead a man that is deeply in love and completely devoted to the one woman he quite literally adores, a man that protects Mags, his old mentor and his mother figure, as much as he can, a man that wouldn't leave Johanna behind, a man that gathers whatever strenght he has left to speak publicly about the abuse inflicted upon him at the government's hands; the opposite of what the Capitol's media and reputation made him out to be.

[irrevocableloves]

This also reminded me of how she said that Katniss wasn’t quite ready to harvest yet. Saying like “Katniss will take some time but eventually it’ll have you dealt with.” and it did! Fate sent him a Karma in the form of Katniss Everdeen.

Katniss who was a reminder of Lucy Gray, of his loved ones, of everything Sejanus stood for. Katniss who was a reminder of his PAST SELF- of a time where he could’ve done the right choices (with Lucy Gray, Tigris, correcting his father's sins with Highbottom etc.) of a time where everything could’ve been different.

Snow mentioned Lucy Gray strongly believed in fate when she said “You’re mine and Im yours. It’s written in the stars.” Of course he didn’t believe it. So when she was gone and Coriolanus Snow chose to cross that line of evil never turning back, the stars made sure that he will be haunted of it to his death.

A masterclass of storytelling right there. Suzanne you icon, you legend.

[irrevocableloves]

live footage of me seeing Nelson Murdock & Page together again

[irrevocableloves]

In Mockingjay Part 2 when Peeta has lost his mind and is dropped off with Katniss and the rebel party who are about to kill Snow. The others treat Peeta as a threat, but Finnick steps in when they raise their weapons against Peeta and is shown the entire time as being patient with him and has Peeta repeat phrases that help his mind and that he would need to repeat to Panem, and he also advises him to just ask when Peeta tells Katniss he doesn’t know the difference between what’s real or not real.

Finnick is the only one in the party that has the patience for Peeta (outside of Katniss’s love for Peeta that is) when his mind is shattered because he's used to helping and being so patient over the years with Annie that he immediately does it with Peeta.

[irrevocableloves]

To Be Loved By You // Cedric Diggory

Request: Salut!!!! I really love your writing!!!! I love your writing soooooo much!!! Please could you do a Cedric X Hufflepuff reader one where they have been best friends for a very long time and after the third Triwizard tournament task she thinks he's dead but Madame Pomfrey heals him and he admits his feelings by accident. - anon

A/N: Anyone who knows my writing process, knows that I absolutely cannot stand writing flashbacks. However, for you nonnie, I have. The flashbacks begin with a date and a location - they're in italics. I hope you all like!!

Warnings: FEMALE READER - she/her pronouns, injuries, angst, flashbacks, swearing, pining, mutual pining, happy ending.

Word Count: 2.7k

The stone floor of the corridor had never felt so cold against her skin; she didn’t know how long she had been sat there – long enough for the cold to seep into her bones and become part of her, but not long enough to give in to the urge to move about and warm up.

The evening comes back to her in flashes; a glimpse of a handsome smile, a wave of a hand… the sickening thump of a lifeless body as it landed in the arena.

It had all been planned. Every last moment of the trial had been planned; Cedric knew of the maze, knew of the statistics before going in… No-one expected the portkey.

She closes her eyes; letting her head fall back onto the cold, stone wall with a similar thump made by Cedric’s body as he fell back into the arena, cradled by Harry Potter. Taking a deep breath, she covers her eyes with her hands, resolutely refusing to let any of her tears fall. There would be plenty of time for that later if things didn’t work out.

It had all been so fast. Cedric and Harry landing in front of the schools; the screams from Harry, the anguished cries of Amos Diggory; the rush of teachers swarming around the two students – one breathing, one not.

She hadn’t felt the hand at her elbow; hadn’t heard the pleas of Professor Sprout urging her to stay back, to not look. She had ignored them all; wrenching free of the Herbologist’s grip and rushing to where Cedric was laid out for all to see. She had stopped short, pushed down the cry that tried to force its way out. Instead, she began to violently shake, her trembling hand reaching out for the boy who had promised to be her friend forever.

She had followed the rush of teachers to the hospital wing; Dumbledore hadn’t been with them, having followed Harry Potter and Mad-Eye Moody. Sprout refused to let her inside; fixing her with a look that practically begged her to try and enter the room to see what would happen. (Y/N) relented. She sat herself on the floor across from the door and refused to move.

There she sat, and there she stays. Her head beginning to ache from the pressure of fear, worry and upset boiling up. No-one had updated her; no-one had left the hospital wing.

Removing her hands from her face, (Y/N) stares at the old, wooden doors of the hospital wing. Never in her life had she felt so far away from the boy who had promised her an eternity of friendship. Never in her life had she felt such undiluted fear.

She had to remain strong. Madame Pomfrey is the best there is at healing any and all injuries; if anyone could heal Cedric, it would be her.

Silence. Silence from the corridor; silence from her lips; silence from the hospital doors.

With no noise coming from behind the doors, she lets herself fall into her memories.

-------

June 1982, Devon.

The summer months of the year always brought with it an increase in the amount of social events. Families brimming with magical powers gathering in their masses to catch up, to spend money, to have fun. The summer months of the year were always the most entertaining.

(Y/N) sits at one of the many tables in the large garden, arms crossed with an unimpressed look on her face. At five years old, the last thing she wanted to be doing was spending the day with her parent’s friends. She would much rather be with her own toys, creating her own stories.

Her legs swing underneath her chair as she reaches for the napkins arranged in the shape of swans. It seems that she would have to make up her own stories to pass the time.

(Y/N) is on the third act of her swan drama when someone, a boy, sits down next to her. Refusing to acknowledge him, (Y/N) continues with her story. The papa swan had returned from his quest with news of how to solve the mystery plaguing the two; the mama swan was rejoicing at the news.

“Who are you?” She asks eventually as the swan town is saved, her curiosity getting the better of her as she continues to gaze at the strange boy now sitting at her table.

“I’m Cedric Diggory,” The brown haired boy introduces, holding his hand out for the pigtailed girl to take.

She hesitates for a second before taking the outstretched hand. “Hello Cedric, I’m (Y/N).”

“Do you want to be friends, (Y/N)?” Cedric asks, grey eyes wide with childish innocence.

“Will you be my friend forever?” She asks; her voice small as she begins to worry over not having a friend like Cedric.

“Pinkie promise,” Cedric states seriously, holding out his pinkie finger for her to take.

Pinkies hooked together, (Y/N) seals the promise with Cedric. When Cedric smiles at her, (Y/N)’s day becomes much brighter.

-------

September 1989, Kings Cross Station, London.

“I’m nervous,” (Y/N) admits, falling into a seat beside Cedric in an otherwise empty train compartment. She keeps the smile on her face as finds her parents tear-filled eyes on the platform. They blow kiss after kiss; (Y/N) returns each and every one of them.

“I am too,” Cedric confesses, reaching for her hand. He squeezes it once in a reassuring manner before letting it drop.

Final waves are exchanged just as the train whistles for the last time before departing the station. The two youngsters remain silent as the train begins its long journey to the school for witchcraft and wizardry; their minds caught up in their own hopes and fears.

“Cedric,” (Y/N) whispers, fiddling with her fingers as she wonders how best to approach the subject that has been plaguing her mind since the acceptance letters had first arrived on their doorsteps all those weeks ago.

“(Y/N),” Cedric prompts, “What is it?”

She sighs, pushing her hair out of her face in frustration. “You aren’t going to leave me, are you?”

“Why would you think that?”

(Y/N) shrugs. “You’re destined to become popular. I just don’t want you to forget me.”

Cedric frowns; eyebrows furrowing as he thinks over the impossibility brought up. “I could never forget you. We made a pinkie promise, remember.”

The knot in her chest loosens at his words; (Y/N) breathes a relieved sigh. She had been nervous about school; about leaving her parents, about leaving her routine of the day. Most of all, she had been nervous about losing Cedric. As she looked at him now, (Y/N) could see a glimpse of the man he is destined to become peek out from under the boyish charm. It would be impossible for Cedric to go through Hogwarts unnoticed; she could only hope she would be with him for every step of the way.

---------

December 1994, Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The Triwizard Tournament and its organising body could all go to hell, (Y/N) thinks to herself as she overhears a group of Fifth Years discuss the upcoming second challenge and Yule Ball.

Her heart had fallen through to her feet when Cedric’s name was pulled out of the Goblet of Fire. He had turned to her with such glee written on his face that the fear didn’t have time to lodge itself in her throat before he had been up and away, making his way to the Victor’s Lounge without her.

The first challenge had her close to collapsing. The size of the dragon compared to Cedric; the size of the burn on his arm as he had grabbed the Golden Egg. (Y/N) had all but duelled Dumbledore himself when she had entered the medical tent just in time to see the salve being spread across Cedric’s arm. Cedric had calmed her down, only just, however.

They would need to do better for the second challenge. Cedric had to win.

“You need to stop thinking so hard,” Cedric teases, sitting down beside her, his finger smoothing away the lines that had gathered on her forehead.

“That’s easy for you to say,” (Y/N) snorts, “You got by the first challenge with minimal injuries. We need to think of something better for the second challenge.”

“Already on it,” Cedric states proudly, puffing out his chest.

“Let’s hear it,” (Y/N) challenges, crossing her arms.

“The Bubble-Head Charm.”

(Y/N) purses her lips. “That could actually work.”

Cedric reels back as if insulted. “I did get an O in my Charms OWL, I’ll have you know.”

“Now you have to find a date to the Yule Ball and your to-do list is essentially complete.”

“Go with me,” Cedric urges; his grey eyes bright with hope and happiness. “Go with me to the Yule Ball.”

“Don’t you want to ask someone else?” She asks to make sure. “I heard Cho Chang talking about you just the other day; you would make a cute couple.”

Cedric frowns; the usual line forming between his eyebrows as he thinks over her words. He shakes his head, “I don’t want to go with Cho. I want to go with you.”

With such stark honesty reflecting in his voice, how could she say no? “Alright then,” (Y/N) smiles, “I’ll be your date to the Yule Ball, but I won’t apologise for standing on your toes when we dance.”

Cedric laughs; the very sound music to her ears as a large smile breaks across his face. “My toes shall survive.”

She shakes her head in exasperated fondness though she cannot ignore the eruption of butterflies in her stomach. (Y/N) would be a fool if she didn’t see the looks Cedric gathered from fellow students; she would be a fool to ignore the countless times he had been asked to the ball. Instead, (Y/N) notes with giddiness, he had asked her.

It takes a fair while to find the perfect gown, but eventually, (Y/N) settles on a navy blue number that would stand out from the ice blue and white decoration of the Great Hall. Her mind had been racing for the whole day; images of what could happen flashing through her mind like a poorly executed rom-com.

Cedric meets her outside of the Great Hall and all her worries wash away. She meets his eyes, takes his hand and it feels as if everything clicks into place for her. He leads her onto the dancefloor; the four champions opening the ball for every school in attendance.

The music washes over her; her only focus being Cedric. It’s then, she realises, that she could spend a lifetime wrapped in Cedric’s arms and she would never tire of the feel of him against her. She would always find something new to love, something new to admire. She could live a thousand lifetimes with the teenager in front of her, and she would love him in each and every one of them.

-----

It’s hours before the doors to the hospital wing open again. She only knows this as she had tracked the movement of the moon across the sky until the sun begins to rise, its rays brightening the corridors.

(Y/N) stands as the hinges creak and Professor Sprout walks through. Her face is grim, but there is relief in her eyes as she pauses at the sight of (Y/N).

“Please,” (Y/N) whispers, her voice hoarse from hours of silence, “Please can I see him?”

Professor Sprout sighs. “He needs to rest, my dear. He’s been through a lot.”

“He’s alive?” (Y/N) croaks; tears springing to her eyes, a sob lodging itself in her throat.

“He’s alive,” Sprout confirms, the first smile in hours growing on her face.

“I have to see him,” (Y/N) insists. “Please. I have to tell him something important.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it can wait until Cedric has had some sleep.”

(Y/N) shakes her head; disregarding the words of her beloved house leader, pushing her way through to the hospital wing. There is no fight from Professor Spout; she had tried her hardest at the arena, and again just now, but she would not stand in the way any longer.

The hospital wing is silent; the occasional bustle of skirts from Madame Pomfrey as she tidies up what looks to be countless bottles of potions and remedies. She doesn’t smile as (Y/N) steps further into the wing; she tries her best but cannot summon the strength to do so as the last reserves of her energy go towards cleaning up the mess made earlier.

“Where is he?” (Y/N) asks quietly, not wanting to disturb the matron from her work.

Madame Pomfrey remains silent, pointing to a bed half obscured by a pale curtain. “Thank you,” (Y/N) whispers; both women aware that the words stand for much more than a point in the right direction.

She slows her steps as she nears the hospital bed; she doesn’t know what to expect. Cedric hadn’t been moving; hadn’t been breathing the last time she saw him. She couldn’t think of what to expect now that she was mere metres away from him.

Her hands shakes, but she tightens them into fists as she makes her way around the curtain.

It’s there that she lets herself heave the first relieved sigh of the night. Cedric sits up in the hospital bed; propped up by countless fluffy pillows courtesy of Madame Pomfrey. His face is bruised and battered; the dark purple and black a stark contrast to his pale skin. His torso is bandaged, no doubt offering limited support to the numerous broken ribs suffered at the hands of the Dark Lord.

He looks like hell personified, but at the sight of (Y/N) standing at the end of his bed, Cedric smiles as if granted access through the gates of Heaven. “I wondered when you’d be getting here,” He drawls though his voice is somewhat breathless. He shifts in the bed, grimacing as he clearly brings on a new wave of pain.

“You scared me, you arse,” She whispers, barely in control of her own emotions as she stares at the scores of bandages covering Cedric’s body.

Cedric tries to laugh, but it comes out as a wheeze. “Not my intention, promise.”

“Nevertheless.”

Meeting his eyes, it’s hard to keep the relieved smile off her face. (Y/N) feels the familiar stretch of her cheeks and does nothing to stop the smile from growing. The last hours of her life are not ones she would ever choose to repeat. If she wanted to smile now – after seeing Cedric alive – she would damn well smile.

“Have you forgiven me?” Cedric asks; his own smile growing.

(Y/N) crosses her arms, fixing her fellow Hufflepuff with an unimpressed look. “You’ve got a lot to make up for.”

“I do?”

She nods; her expression turning solemn as she thinks of his lifeless body in the arena. “You almost left me behind,” She whispers, her voice close to breaking.

Cedric shifts in his hospital bed; shuffling to the side where he pats the empty space. “Come on,” He urges softly.

(Y/N) hesitates for a moment, but when she sees the steely determination in the set of his jaw and the grey of his eyes, she has no choice but to slide onto the bed with him. Their arms brush as (Y/N) settles next to Cedric; the very touch and the heat of his skin reminding her that Cedric is here, he’s alive and he’ll be okay. The very thought is powerful enough to bring fresh tears to her eyes.

“You can’t do that again,” She states confidently.

“Do what? Enter a deadly competition?” Cedric snorts, “I think my danger days are long behind me.”

“I love that you can joke about this, Ced, but you scared the life out of me.”

Cedric reaches for her hand; tangling their fingers together and letting them rest on his covered thigh. “I could never leave you,” He whispers, “I love you too much to leave you behind.”

She lets her head fall onto his shoulder; careful of causing him any further pain. “I’ve wanted to hear those words for so long,” She murmurs, her thumb brushing over the back of his hand.

“Well, they’re out there. I love you, (Y/N). I have since you were creating stories with swan napkins, and I’ll love you for forever after.”

(Y/N) remains silent for a moment; squeezing Cedric’s hand with hers before turning her face, pressing a kiss to his jawline. “I love you too,” She replies. It’s all that’s needed in the end.

******

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