Honestly I think the phantom of the opera was such a good villain because he’s so relatable. I too would lock myself away in my bedroom, demand ridiculous amounts of money, and use my unhealthy obsessions to unsuccessfully seduce someone I have the hots for
There was an evident path of flattened grass in front of the
dorm hall where Will lived. But Nico wasn’t there for Will. He was there to get
answers so he could let his mind rest. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear what
would be said to him, and he wasn’t sure what he would do with the information
if he didn’t like it.
But he had to know.
Bracing himself, he walked into the dorm and went to the
floor under Will’s. He walked basing himself by the name on the doors until he
saw Peter on one. Then, taking a deep
breath, he knocked and waited.
A few seconds later a guy with wavy hair and hazel green
eyes opened the door, raising his eyebrows when he saw Nico. “Hey. Good to see
Nico shoved away the shame and embarrassment. “Thanks. Um. I
was wondering if you could tell me what happened… that day?”
Peter furrowed his eyebrows and opened the door a little
wider. “Sure. Come in.” Nico followed him in. He sat at the desk chair and
Peter leaned against the wall, facing him. “What… what do you remember?”
He bit his lip and sighed, running his hand through his
hair. “I remember… kissing you here. Then going to my dorm. And drinking. Then
I woke up in a hospital.”
A fluffy drabble for OTP Day, with much kudos and credit to @otterandterrier for coming up with the idea for said rad holiday!
To be honest, the events of the last half-hour were something of a
blur to Ron Weasley.
He had asked, she had tackled him, there had been a fair amount of
snogging (on the floor, where they landed), there had been some laughter and a
few tears, quite a bit more snogging, and then her overflowing excitement and
need to talk about the engagement had dragged them up to their current position
on the sofa in their flat: him, still experiencing the aftershocks of
deeply-desired success, and her, mind and mouth running a mile a minute with
She said yes. SHE SAID YES. To me. Ron Weasley. Actual Ron bloody
Weasley. For forever!
The wonderful, almost-improbable chorus seemed to be running in a
loop in his head, pushing out any other rational thought. Of course, he hadn’t
expected her to say no, exactly, but… still. The release of several
months of compounded nerves - and the warm, sweet-smelling lapful of
freshly-minted fiancée - made it fairly hard to focus and he forced himself to
pay better attention.
“Maybe I should call them?” Hermione was saying. “But it’d be so
much more fun to tell them in person! It is getting late, though, and
they usually turn in early. We could go over tomorrow, before going to the
Burrow,” she chattered happily.
Ron’s face already felt sore from the amount of smiling he had
done in the past thirty minutes, and watching Hermione’s enthusiasm was doing
nothing to relieve it. “Yeah, definitely we can. But just so you know, I’ve
already told them.”
Hermione looked up at him in confusion. “What? How?”
“No, I mean talked with them before. Before I asked you,” Ron
Hermione stared at him. “You did?” she asked blankly.
“Well, yeah. Not to ask permission or anything,” he explained
hastily, trying desperately to remember, through his happy haze, the
particulars of several heated diatribes he had heard Hermione deliver to
various unsuspecting and ill-advised individuals who had tried to
condescendingly educate her on “traditional” wizarding family values. “I know
you’re your own person and you’re not anyone’s, er, cattle.
“Chattel,” she corrected instinctively. “But actually, it amounts
to about this same thing.”
“Right. Anyway, your parents. They’ve been pretty good about…
well, about us, and about me, considering. My family already considers you family,
and I thought your parents should know that they’d be family, too. I wanted
them to know what was going on and, uh, hopefully be happy about it,” he
finished uneasily as she continued to stare. Oh sweet Merlin’s pants, he knew he
wasn’t completely up on muggle customs - had he committed some kind of
inexcusable blunder? “Was that mphfk…”
Any further temporizing was forcefully cut off by Hermione’s lips,
applied forcefully in one of his very favorite ways. She pulled back after a
few moments, still gripping the front of his shirt tightly in her balled fists.
“You wanted my parents to feel included; you know how much that
means to me,” she said wonderingly, looking at him with watery eyes. “And you
remember what I said to that miserable harpy!”
“‘Course I do. She looked like she swallowed a dungbomb, it was
wicked.” He eyed her carefully. “So that was an OK thing to do?”
“More than OK. It was lovely.”
Ron barked out a laugh. “Actually, it was bloody terrifying,”
Hermione smiled at him knowingly. “So,” she began archly, “do I
get the pleasure of announcing this at all, or does everyone else already
“Well, George knows, because he saw the ring box. Long story,” he
added darkly. Hermione lips twitched at the look on his face. “And I might have
mentioned it to Harry. But they only knew it was going to happen eventually.
They didn’t know about it happening now.”
“Harry!” she exclaimed, jumping up and tugging on his arm. “We’ve got
to tell Harry first. I think he and Ginny were going out tonight, do you think
Ron tipped his head back and forth exaggeratedly, pretending to
consider. “Mmmm, maybe. You know Ginny likes to drag him out dancing. Better
give it a bit, just to make sure.” He let Hermione pull him up, wrapping his
arms around her body tightly. ”In the meantime, I think we’ve got a bit more
celebrating to do, if you’d care to follow me?” he asked, inclining his head
toward their bedroom and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Hermione shook her head at his cheesiness, but the smile she gave
him was genuine. “Yes, I will.”
Ron grinned. “I’m never going to get tired of hearing you say
I hope you're still taking requests, all of the prompts sound so great that I had a hard time choosing. But I am now stuck between 5 (Wait are you, jealous) and 32 (I think I am in love with you, and I am terrified) both sound so perfect for Manorian, that I decided to just send in both as I will be happy with reading either of those prompts.
im literally the worst fic writer ever cause i never write shit for anyone so im seriously sorry for just now writing this ;(
#5 “Wait, are you jealous?”
To be entirely honest, he knew there was nothing to be worried about. Manon is a beautiful woman whose downright terrifying personality is just so captivating for some reason beyond him. But Dorian couldn’t help but be jealous of the young man dancing with her and whose hand keeps slipping just a little further south than he’d like with every passing song. He knows he’s not being subtle about his staring. Both Aelin and Aedion have stopped by to jab at him and Manon has shot him a few looks herself. But who cares.
As yet another slow song came to an end and the young man very obviously asked for another dance, Dorian’s uncharacteristically thin patience snapped. He stood abruptly from his throne at the head of the ballroom, passed the smug smirks of just about everyone, and stopped directly beyond the young man. Manon wore a bored look but looked on anyways, secretly hoping for some kind of interesting spectacle to occur.
Dorian tilted his chin up slightly to look down at the young and cleared his throat heartily. The man whipped around and his eyes went wide when he realized who was not even inches away from him with an icy look in his eyes.
“Perhaps I can have the next dance? I’m sure you’ve had your fair share for the night don’t you think?”
The man gulped rather cartoonishly and nodded quickly before ducking around Dorian and nearly bolting in the opposite direction. Dorian watched on in satisfaction before turning back to Manon. She still looked bored but he could see the interest there in her eyes.
“I was actually enjoying his company, you know.”
Dorian smirked before grabbing her by the waist and pulling her close as the next song started. He moved then to the rhythm without a moments hesitation.
“I’m sure you did but let’s be honest with each other, you’d much rather prefer my company over his.”
Manon’s eyes narrowed only slightly before the realization became evident.
“Wait…” she stopped moved abruptly but moved her lips to Dorian’s ear and drawled, “are you… jealous?”
Dorian schooled his face into impassivity but he knew that he was caught even before he interrupted the previous pair. But like hell would he admit to it.
Moving to start leading them again, Dorian went to grab Manon’s hand and waist, but she stepped back and away from him wearing an expression that could only mean she was ready to play.
“If you won’t admit it then I’m gonna go find a new dancing partner. I like my partners to be forthcoming about what they really want,” she said with a glint to her eyes before sauntering away. Leaving Dorian without a dancing partner in the middle of the ballroom and ignoring the snickers he could hear gliding around him.
He watched her make her way back to the young man in the corner. He watched her deliver a perfect smile and grasp that poor man’s heart in her nails. He watched the man nod eagerly. And then he stomped across the ballroom, whispered just the right words in her ear, and let himself be dragged out of that treacherous ballroom.
Behind him was months of emptiness, months of meticulous planning, months of researching, hijacking, and terrorizing that all lead up to this night. He was prepared. He reached into his closet for his custom tailored black suit. His guns and smile was reloaded and tonight he would be rewarded after months of nothing but waiting. When at last she was brought back to him. He slicked back his hair and applied his lipstick. Before him was a plan.
Joker paced around his lavish penthouse, muttering to himself, running his hands through his hair, going over and over the plan with Frost until they both knew what they would be doing every single second of the rescue. Harley kept updating him over text message of where she would be when. Her messages, and the tiny bomb in her neck, were the only thing keeping him from running to the streets of Midway City and ripping her away from the squad of villains immediately.
For the first time in months, he wore a nice full tux. The King of Gotham was going out tonight. It was a returning celebration, a comeback and it would be a night for the history books. Yes, he had to look good when the king and his queen took their thrones back tonight. He fastened the white carnation flower over his heart and straightened his bow-tie. It made him twitch, how much he wanted her back. His favorite toy, his favorite pet.
He glanced over at her untouched closet, all her sparkling clothes still in the places they were when she disappeared. The only thing that had been touched from her closet was her favorite perfume which naturally became Joker’s favorite on her. In the few times he had tried to sleep in their bedroom, he’d spray a healthy amount of Harley’s perfume on her pillow and hold that pillow close to his nose all night. Trying- if only for a minute - to trick his mind into thinking she was there. Joker slammed his palm against the wall, that pain replacing the foreign feeling in his chest he didn’t enjoy. Everything was prepared… except one final important detail.
He looked over Harley’s closet, the shimmer of her dresses flicking beautiful shapes on the walls in the moonlight. If all went well, and it better, Harley would be back here tonight. The Joker laughed into the darkness as he remembered one last part. He walked into the closet, turning to his left and pulled out a messily folded up piece of fabric and exited. Joker made his way into the kitchen, he pulled out two wine glasses and strode to the refrigerator, grabbing a purple drink.
Joker was back in their giant bedroom, in front of the luxurious fireplace. He strategically spread out the bear skin rug, filled up the wine glasses with ice cubes and grape soda. He smiled at his worked and purred in anticipation of what tonight would hold.
A knock at the door, Frost took half a step in and informed Joker that the helicopter had arrived. Joker grinned at the rug and stood up, he walked out of the door following Frost. His wide smile and creepy laugh the last sound heard in the room before the door slammed shut.
The second chapter of the fic that was part 2/9 ofCloud’s Birthday Week 2k16 this summer. It’s late in coming… but I’m extremely happy with this and I hope you all love it too!! <3
A shapeshifting alien crashes his spaceship in the fields of Cloud’s farm. He calls himself Sephiroth and claims to have crashed while investigating an ‘anomaly’ somewhere on Gaia. A human, even if he’s still recovering from loss and not feeling like a hero, teams up with a Jenovian not only for his sake, but also his planet’s. pairing: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Fully scanned versions of the special Aeon mall lunchmats! Thank you very much to @chocofeeland for joining the scans together for me!!!
*Feel free to use for editing, etc., a credit would be nice but not necessary. And if you’re going to share it link it to this original post and don’t just steal the scans please. These still take time to scan and join you know. Thank you.
Author’s Note: Part two of five of my Valentine’s Day Drabbles series! These are definitely late, woops. But I enjoyed writing these! There’s a few more pairings in this one than in my other one yaaay. They’re all rather short, so sorry about that. I hope y’all enjoy this!
Pairings Included: Victuuri, Otayuri, and Phiyuuri
Victor draped his arms over Yuuri’s shoulders, pulling him back into a hug. Before he had been interrupted by his fiance, Yuuri was attempting to bake a cake that the two of them would share. He’d been mixing the batter, but now that he was in Victor’s arms, that idea would have to be saved for later.
“Yuuri, can I have a kiss~?” Victor requested.
“Right now? I’m kind of doing something at the moment,” he said.
“I see that, but you can take a break, can’t you?”