seamusburning

[seamusburning]

a moodboard for seamus finnigan ( 5 / ? )

#mowtask #♜ ⌊ moodboard. ⌉ — i’ve trained myself to give up on the past #mine tag tbd #♜ ⌊ character. ⌉ — the sun inside of him could set the kingdom ablaze

[seamusburning]

a moodboard for seamus finnigan ( 4 / ? ),  but make it aesthetic 

#mowtask #♜ ⌊ moodboard. ⌉ — i’ve trained myself to give up on the past #♜ ⌊ aesthetic. ⌉ — that’s how the light gets in #♜ ⌊ character. ⌉ — the sun inside of him could set the kingdom ablaze #mine tag tbd

[seamusburning]

a moodboard for seamus finnigan ( 3 / ? )

#♜ ⌊ moodboard. ⌉ — i’ve trained myself to give up on the past #♜ ⌊ character. ⌉ — the sun inside of him could set the kingdom ablaze #mine tag tbd #mowtask

[seamusburning]

#♜ ⌊ musings. ⌉ — this fragile heart so heavy in my chest it’s breaking #seamus as a prefect

[seamusburning]

pcrkinscns‌:

Jaw tensing at the challenge levelled by Seamus, the cogs in her mind desperately searched for a solution, an exit that wouldn’t leave him with permanent damage and her with other skeleton in her closet, or ghost on her shoulder. Fingers curled around her wand, Pansy knew it would be easy. She knew she could make him think she meant it. Perhaps she even would mean it. These days, she couldn’t be sure. But she knew she didn’t want to - and wasn’t that the main thing? So, instead, she chose a different course of action. Eyeing him up from head to toe, Pansy raised a leg and kneed him between the legs, right where his balls were. Quickest way to bring a man to the ground. Cocking her head, she smirked. “Did that mean enough for you?”

     seamus’s smug grin quickly faded as he crumpled down to his knees, brought upon by pansy’s literal low-blow.  the knees were as far as he allowed himself to go, refusing her the satisfaction of seeing him completely knocked down.  he did brace himself with a hand, however.  he was only human, after all.  seamus took a couple ragged breaths and glared up at her.  somehow, he managed to bite back the multitude of swear words forming on his tongue.  “you know, that was a very muggle response for . . . someone like yourself.”  for a slytherin?  for a purist?  she could choose her own adventure.

#♜ ⌊ interactions. ⌉ — i swallow my words down to the bone #int. — pansy parkinson #timestamp. — 18 december 1997 #me @ this gif: eh close enough

[seamusburning]

moragmac‌:

Morag was taken by surprise. She’d thought that this conversation was just small talk and nothing more, that Seamus would get out of her common room and leave her soon enough. She put down her fountain pen, looked him squarely in the eye. “Maybe you should mind your own business, Finnigan. So what if it’s a distraction? Look at the situation we’re in — it’s only healthy to seek distractions.” That was what she told herself at least, and part of her did believe it. There was no harm in trying to stick to her usual routine, in trying to fully and wholly focus on academics and Quidditch. She wasn’t hurting anyone, and yet — it was a form of denial, and she was aware enough of that. Morag let Seamus’ words echo in her mind and had no reply. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” She raised her eyebrows. “Why are you here, anyway?” She felt the question nag at her and she stared at her half written essay. Maybe she shouldn’t hand it in, burn it all, forget about the part of her that still aimed to please, that wished to comply and stay in line. “I’m just trying to stay out of trouble.” That wasn’t so bad, was it? It couldn’t be. “I can’t go through that again, Seamus.”

     he couldn’t deny his urge to poke and prod, it was in his nature.  “so is quidditch your distraction from your studies, or is school your distraction from quidditch?”  he still wasn’t entirely convinced morag wasn’t a robot, maybe the question would be enough to cause a malfunction.  he wondered if smoke would come out of her ears.  “there’s nothing healthy about any of this, and you know it.”  seamus simply shrugged off her next question.  she had a point, but her asking meant that he was getting under her skin, and that made this all worth it.  “i’m supposed to be meeting michael.”  he blinked, barely managing to swallow down the rage burning inside of him when she spoke again.  “some of us don’t have the luxury, macdougal.  how do you sit there and follow orders when you know what they’re doing is wrong?  where’s your bloody backbone?”

#♜ ⌊ interactions. ⌉ — i swallow my words down to the bone #int. — morag macdougal #timestamp. — 4 january 1998

[seamusburning]

abbbott‌:

Hannah took a few steps forwards, let the door fall close behind her. She pulled her coat closer to her body, crossed her arms in a way that looked almost like she was hugging herself. She shook her head. “No, no, you don’t have to apologise Shay. It’s okay. I get it.” And she did. Where Seamus was anger and fire and explosions, she herself was despair and tears and shaking. She understood, even if she didn’t know what it was like to have your anger always lying so close to the surface. Her own rage was buried deep, out of fear what it might do to her. One day she would deal with it. For now, she’d just be dealing numbness and tears and everything in between. ( She longed for the days where she was sunshine and daisies and cheerfulness and nothing else at all. She felt like there was something rotten inside of her now. )

She considered his words for a moment, eyes on her shoes, on the owls, on Seamus again. “It isn’t fair.” Hannah let her teeth sink in her bottom lip, shook her head. “But I don’t think it’s about that, any more. There’s nothing fair about pain and death and suffering. No justice. It just happens. So no, it’s not fair, but I don’t think it ever will be. Even when this is over.” Hannah sunk down on a bench, gestured at the spot next to her. “It’s all so messed up.” She was so tired. She felt her eyes burn and she didn’t fight it. She’d seen Seamus’ anger — she wasn’t going to hide her own emotions in return. “I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

     seamus nodded as hannah spoke, not having the will to fight as she offered the seat next to her.  his explosion had taken a lot out of him, and he didn’t even realize it until he took a seat.  everything he’d been carrying since seventh year began weighed down on him like his robes were made of lead.  seamus could feel tears threatening to fall, so he swiped furiously at his eyes to prevent it.  even after all of this, everything they’d all gone through, he still hated the idea of anyone seeing him cry.  “hogwarts is supposed to be home, y’know?  like home away from home, or whatever.  but it just feels like a giant fucking prison or something.  we don’t deserve this.”  it was as much a reassurance for her as it was himself.  it was something he had struggled with — trying to figure out why this would be happening to them.  they were just kids, after all.  the god his father had spoken about when he was a child had never seemed so far away.

#♜ ⌊ interactions. ⌉ — i swallow my words down to the bone #int. — hannah abbott #timestamp. — 14 january 1998

[seamusburning]

#♜ ⌊ musings. ⌉ — this fragile heart so heavy in my chest it’s breaking

[seamusburning]

michaelscorner‌:

michael moved into the kiss, but he was too late. seamus had already ducked down, pressed his lips to michael’s hands, and any semblance of thought unravelled. michael’s mouth opened and closed as seamus’ moved against his skin, but no sound came out. his heart was a hummingbird, beating so fast against his chest it might jump through, or give out altogether. for a passing second michael could even be considered light-headed, and he had no draught to blame it on. 

he swallowed, hard. it was always the soft touches that got him, short circuited his brain and left his hands shaking. could seamus feel it? he must have. still, michael couldn’t bring himself to move. he wanted more, seamus’ mouth cutting lines of fire and electricity to his wrists, up his arms, down his chest. he needed more, but by the time michael could string two thoughts together seamus had already pulled away.

“i –” with one touch, all his practiced eloquence had evaporated. he swallowed, tried again, but it came out no better. despite being the only two in the room, michael’s voice was barely above a whisper. “what are we, seamus? what – what is this?” he recaptured seamus’ hands, begging him not to see reluctance, or merlin forbid regret, in the question. he pressed his lips to seamus’ palm and kept his gaze steady.

     he stopped entirely when michael spoke up again.  the question sent him off his axis.  it had taken so much for them to admit any sort of feelings that night outside the great hall, so a piece of him just assumed they would live in this weird middle ground forever.  seamus supposed it could be easier that way — they were a product of the war, would they even last one day outside the walls of the castle? — not to put a name to it, it would be harder to get hurt that way.  hell, he never put a name to the feelings he felt for dean, and that was a wound that reopened every day.  though the pain subsided more and more as he began to let michael in . . .

     “this?”  he fought valiantly to keep the edge out of his voice.  speaking it into existence was dangerous territory.  he placed a kiss on michael’s hands again, steadying the boy as much as he was himself.  “this is you.  and me.”  he punctuated each with another kiss.  his heart was beating faster than he thought possible.  “just you and me, michael.  nothing else — no one else — matters.  it’s just us.”  seamus pushed all thoughts of dean and the carrows and the pain coursing through his body, barely kept at bay by the draughts, out of his mind.  straining, he pushed himself up to a position where he could put a hand to michael’s face and kiss him — gently, but reassuring.  he was proud of his non-answer, and a large part of him wanted to leave it at that.  but seamus couldn’t deny his curiosity, his near-masochistic desire to know the truth.  “what about you?  what are your, uh, thoughts?  on all of this?  on us, i mean?”

#♜ ⌊ interactions. ⌉ — i swallow my words down to the bone #int. — michael corner #timestamp. — 16 december 1997

[seamusburning]

Send ☠ for our muses to do shots together.

“moon!  how the fuck are you?”  seamus shouted over the music, pulling the girl into a quick hug.  he hadn’t seen her all night.  he was several drinks in, and assumed as much from her.  so there only seemed to be one logical next step:  “you wanna do shots?”  fully aware of the answer, he tugged on her sleeve to guide her over to the drink table before she could respond.  “eenie meenie minie … ”  he covered his eyes and pointed back and forth between the bottles until he landed on one.  “vodka.  fuck.”  with a heavy sigh, he poured two shots for them and handed one to her.  “cheers, i guess!”

#event 02 #lilymooning #♜ ⌊ interactions. ⌉ — i swallow my words down to the bone #int. — lily moon #♜ ⌊ memes. ⌉ — king of stupid questions #♜ ⌊ answered. ⌉ — letters from the sky

[seamusburning]

aureliians‌:

this went as to be expected - seamus refused, and amycus seemed eager to react. stephen watched as amycus raised his own wand - before a twisted grin broke out on his face and he lowered the wand. “if you won’t comply with instructions, let’s give one of your peers the chance to practice,” he pointed out before turning to the rest of the class, eyes scanning the classroom full of seventh years that all probably were hoping that it wouldn’t be them chosen. stephen barely glanced up, but as he did, he made eye contact with amycus. the grin on amycus’s face seemed to grow wider when he called out stephen’s name, telling him to also report to the front of the class. 

slowly, stephen looked around, before getting to his feet. all eyes seemed to be on him, and he hated that feeling - at least in a situation like this. he made his way to the front of the room, standing a few feet from where seamus was still standing. he looked over at the sixth year who was still standing there, and stephen already knew he wasn’t going to be able to do it. this was a waste of everyone’s time, he would never be able to cast such a curse - he still struggled with any offensive spell in da meeting’s, so the thought of an unforgivable? no chance. 

“cornfoot, use the cruciatus…” he started, at which point stephen shook his head. “…on finnigan,” amycus finished commanding from where he was watching. stephen’s eyes widened, his hand with his wand hanging dumbly by his side. nothing was able to surprise him anymore when it came to the carrows - but that was not something he’d been expecting. he turned to look at seamus, meeting his eyes. seamus was one of the only people who had a backbone, who wasn’t afraid to say whatever he thought to the carrows. stephen respected it, perhaps even envied the courage it took to do so.

he turned back to amycus, raising his brows. “no way. i won’t do it.” 

     seamus was clenching his jaw so hard that he was sure something was going to shatter.  he didn’t really care what the carrows did to him anymore  ( he supposed his self-preservation was at an all time low )  but he refused to allow any of his peers to get sucked down into the vortex with him.  he didn’t want anyone to lose themselves in the unforgivable curses — or worse, try to be a hero and end up receiving the same punishments.  as far as he was concerned, he was carrying out this vendetta against their headmasters solo.

     he shook his head vigorously.  “just do it,”  he muttered to stephen.  “don’t be a hero.”  seamus was having deja vu, had practically lived this same encounter with morag right before christmas.  it hadn’t ended well for them.  and he knew this wouldn’t either, considering stephen had a far stronger spine than morag.  but it wasn’t going to stop him from trying.  

     “unless you’re scared?”  seamus raised his voice, loud enough for the rest to hear now.  he knew stephen would listen to reason about as well as he himself would, so he switched tactics.  he was banking on the fact that cornfoot couldn’t back down from a challenge.  his eyes tried to communicate:  just do it.  fake it.  surely stephen wouldn’t be able to mean it, right?

#♜ ⌊ interactions. ⌉ — i swallow my words down to the bone #timestamp. — 8 january 1998 #int. — stephen cornfoot #this is bad!! #torture tw /

[seamusburning]

#♜ ⌊ musings. ⌉ — this fragile heart so heavy in my chest it’s breaking

[seamusburning]

☺ (hannah)

Send ☺ for my muse to do a body shot off yours.

seamus started laughing when she made the suggestion, but he considered for a minute.  “oh, fuck it.  let’s do it.”  who was he to back down from a challenge?  he scooted away quickly to grab the necessary components and came back.  “alright, alright,”  he said, mostly to himself, as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.  “hold this for me,” seamus said and plopped the lime slice in hannah’s mouth before she had the chance to argue.  he licked a spot at the collarbone, figuring that it was the best place to do so without anyone getting undressed, and poured the salt there.  “ready?”  with a grin, he followed through:  lick the salt, take the shot, bite the lime.  with the fruit still hanging from his mouth, he said,  “your turn!”

#♜ ⌊ interactions. ⌉ — i swallow my words down to the bone #int. — hannah abbott #♜ ⌊ memes. ⌉ — king of stupid questions #♜ ⌊ answered. ⌉ — letters from the sky #event 02 #moragmac

[seamusburning]

☁ + do harry potter's farts stink? you ought to know, as his dormmate.

seamus recoiled at the question.  he had chosen truth because he didn’t trust morag to come up with a quality dare.  but it turned out that asking juicy questions was in her wheelhouse just as much as leading a quidditch team.  “first of all, macdougal — you’re banned from truth or dare for the rest of your life.  i’m doing the public a favor.”  and parties in general, if he had anything to say about it.  but maybe that was a little harsh.  “anyway, he’s the chosen one.  he hasn’t got time to fart.”

#moragmac #♜ ⌊ interactions. ⌉ — i swallow my words down to the bone #int. — morag macdougal #♜ ⌊ answered. ⌉ — letters from the sky #♜ ⌊ memes. ⌉ — king of stupid questions #event 02 #thanks i hate it

[seamusburning]

❝ ay

Send ❝ for my muse to drunkenly reveal something to yours. 

“michael!  michael, michael, hey.”  seamus jogged over as soon as he saw his boyfriend — his boyfriend — for the first time in probably an hour.  he wrapped his arms around him and pulled michael into a big kiss.  “missed you, babe.”  seamus linked their hands and pulled the two of them to a forgotten corner of the hufflepuff common room, as far away from everyone as they could get without leaving.  “look, i’ve been thinking, and i — god, that sounds so menacing.  lemme try again.  i just wanna tell you something, okay?  you know i’m not good with words, so just bear with me here.  um.  when we first started, i was just — i was trying to avoid stuff.  i was trying to avoid my feelings.”  seamus swallowed, fully aware that he was rambling but nowhere near the point he was trying to make.  honesty.  no more secrets.  “i was distracting myself from dean.  but then we kept hooking up and i started getting real feelings and — god this sounds so stupid, i don’t know where i’m going with this — i love you, michael.  and — i think — i’m in love with you.  and i never wanna hide anything from you.”  he took a step back, trying to gauge michael’s reaction.  that was a lot to drop on someone, even by seamus’s standards.  “i’m sorry.  that was a lot.  i’ll get us both drinks and we can pretend that nothing came before i love you.  okay?”

#event 02 #int. — michael corner #michaelscorner #♜ ⌊ interactions. ⌉ — i swallow my words down to the bone #♜ ⌊ memes. ⌉ — king of stupid questions #♜ ⌊ answered. ⌉ — letters from the sky

[seamusburning]

megan didn’t stumble. she was always graceful, even when drunk. so no, she didn’t STUMBLE into seamus - she simply tripped. someone else tripped her. grabbing seamus by the arms to stabilise herself, she huffed at the sight of him. “oh, it’s YOU.” straightening herself, she huffed again. “y’know, i think we could really get along if you didn’t have such shitty taste in men. i could help you, even - but you ruined it. sorry, not sorry.”

seamus instinctively grabbed megan’s arms when she grabbed his, as much a defense tactic as it was to make sure she wasn’t about to fall on her face.  “oh?”  he arched an eyebrow, letting her finish.  “hello to you too.”  seamus was fairly certain he hadn’t said more than three words to megan off the quidditch pitch since early sixth year.  so the timing was odd, but he understood where she was coming from to a point.  “i — sorry to disappoint?”  it’s not like your taste in girls is much better, he very nearly said.  but somehow, his limited self-control pulled through in the interest of not getting hit.

#event 02 #int. — megan jones #megjcnes #♜ ⌊ interactions. ⌉ — i swallow my words down to the bone #♜ ⌊ memes. ⌉ — king of stupid questions #♜ ⌊ answered. ⌉ — letters from the sky

[seamusburning]

⚡+ "streak through the great hall"

“these dares are supposed to be challenging, boot.”  he had stood up and begun to undress as soon as he heard the word streak.  seamus was trying to multitask, toeing off his shoes as he struggled against his jumper.  “hide my clothes and i’ll kill you.  actually — go for it.  everybody wins.”  he finally removed the rest and handed them off to someone more trustworthy than terry.  “think you could get a picture for me?”  and with that, he ran off to complete the dare.

#tcrryboots #event 02 #♜ ⌊ answered. ⌉ — letters from the sky #♜ ⌊ memes. ⌉ — king of stupid questions #int. — terry boot