#doubt dark lies 6th liar

[derinxfam]

Match Made In Heaven

♡ AU: Devil! Taehyung x Angel! Reader

♡ Genre: mostly smut, tiny angst and fluff

♡ Word Count: 3.6 K

♡ Warnings: edging, teasing, nipple kink, lactation, oral sex (female receiving), praise kink, corruption kink, purity kink, mentions of rape, big dick Tae, light bdsm, light spanking, daddy kink

♡ Synopsis:  Every year, an angel falls to Hell ever since the Devil and God made a contract. Every angel gets tested. The angel with the lowest score gets sent to Hell as a sacrifice. Despite her top position, Xan, an archangel, volunteers due to personal reasons. The Devil, Taehyung, hurts her - in the best way.

♡ A/N: crossposted on AO3. inspired by btsracket and their story on AO3, “Smutty Fanfic In The Time Of Covid”, especially chapter 37. Please tell me if I should continue this and give me feedback! likes, comments, all appreciated.

Archangels aren’t supposed to question. Archangels aren’t supposed to be flawed. Archangels aren’t supposed to disobey and they’re certainly not supposed to yearn for a touch. God created them meticulously. Archangels strive for perfection. Humans hinge on them.

So why has God planted this grotesque behaviour inside you? You don’t feel or act utmost. Your attitude steered away from what’s expected, no, what’s imposed on you.

“Lola. Xanders. Avonne! Don’t tell me you’re daydreaming again!” Minzy tears your peace away from you.

“Zee, I just lost someone dear to me a week ago. Let me grieve. God gave us grief for a reason,” you demand that she empathises instead of pestering, which doesn’t work.

“Xan, look, I loved that kid. What was his name? Andy?”

“Abby,” you interrupt.

“Right, Abby. I loved him, you know? He gave you a reason to wake up in the morning. But he’s dead, Xan. God wanted his soul here.”

You inevitably roll your eyes at that. Like you’ve done something, anything other than contemplating why God took his soul. Worse yet, he took it and put it in hell. The worst thing Abby had ever done was scoffing at a friend or side eyeing his parents. You committed more menacing deeds than he did, and you were carved from gold and purity itself. Nothing could help you wrap your head around it. The computing didn’t prove right. Abby deserved to be here with you, his guardian angel, in heaven.

“Yeah, you’re right, Zee,” you agree. She must have weeded out the surrendering timbre of your voice. The next gesture she wears is raising her eyebrows. She’s in obvious disbelief. You don’t care.

“Xan, look, the annual sacrifice is in two days. Don’t be this year’s unfortune,” she dishes out with a matter-of-fact stance. A deep sigh bubbles in your lungs, which you swallow. Deep down, you don’t doubt that her heart is in a good place. But yours isn’t anymore.

*

Studying for the exam was no different than a walk in the park for you. Of course you got the maximum grade. You couldn’t keep count of how many times you’ve been congratulated. You suppressed a grimace each time. You reflexively faked a smile just for this situation.

After an ego boosting week, square one welcomed you with open arms again. Your unfiltered thoughts portrayed a miserable image. Day by day, sinning appeased you. Abby was still a dead, and a so called, sinful man. It didn’t add up. He wasn’t even 20. He had not one addiction. Worse souls have entered the heaven. All of it urged you to yell at God for the first time. You’ve always been a peculiarly top notch archangel. Always kind, considerate and soft headed, your exemplary behaviour levered you to the top. God even sent you a handwritten letter of appreciation. You were the big deal. If only they knew how rotten and infuriated you felt… How dare you question God and his motives? How dare you read a book about the Devil?

Your mind, however, was made up. You would volunteer for the annual sacrifice. You were in for a treat. From what you’ve gathered, the Devil was called Taehyung. Even uttering his name counted as a sin here, the biggest blasphemy. He was as old as time, and a fallen angel. The parallels you observed during your reading would make you gulp in panic. He rebelled against the god, for he believed humans aren’t to be worshipped. From then on, he fell into the hell and has been running the fiery place ever since. The deal he and God made stipulated that he would choose one angel each year, and keep her. Nobody knew what he did with them for sure, but it was speculated that he would use them for his evil deeds. Some angels would become his playthings, endlessly pleasuring him. Each year there would be an exam and the angel with the lowest grade would be sacrificed. Nobody has ever stepped forward to replace them.

You were about to change that.

*

The day you dread has come. It agitates you that you must leave for good, leaving everyone behind. The worst part is, they don’t even know. Would they even bat an eye if they did? You suspect that. Hell doesn’t house archangels, at least it wasn’t created to do so. The stories you’ve heard from your friends about the sacrificed angels that communicated with heaven always send shivers down your spine. You feel small. So small. You wonder if that’s how Abby felt. However, you double down. Cowardice is not a trait you obtain. You can fall as a heroine, or live here like a liar. You pick the latter.

Once everyone has gathered, the Council showed up. All the angels got lined up and bowed down. One of the women cleared her throat and addressed the crowd.

“Welcome, the blessed ones! We’ve gathered here to choose the annual sacrifice. First, let’s congratulate the consecutive winner, Lola Xanders Avonne. This is her 6th year at the top, a round of applause and a standing ovation, please.”

Well – this will certainly make it harder for you to volunteer. You stand there awkwardly. One last time, the rest of the angels stroke your ego. You’ll miss bathing in praise, but you miss Abby more. The applauses simmer down, and disappear just like he did.

“Now, as you all know, the angel at the bottom of the exam results list is Rokita Nmurtiq Laya. We all will dearly miss you, Rokita. Please say your-“

“No, you won’t.”

Everyone has their eyes on me. Again. It unnerves me. I know I have to step up, though, if it’s the last thing I do.

“I… volunteer. As a sacrifice,” you step forward. Everyone’s jaw drops.

“Xan, you’re the-“

“I know. That’s why I’m doing it. I’ve mustered enough courage to fall at my own will. I want everyone to remember me as a brave angel, as someone who has left a mark. Nothing more. If I fail at that, if you don’t give me the chance, you’ll be robbing me of this opportunity. I beg of you to let me be brave,” you confess. They see the look in your eyes. You’re adamant, unstoppable and foxy.

“Nobody’s ever done it before,” she reminds you.

“Then let me pioneer the others.”

The Council keeps their stern looks on you, but know you have the last word. You're allowed to fall.

*

You enter the hell once you’ve packed. It has a creepy vibe to it, sure, but it’s nowhere near the fantasised version. No flames to be seen, none that catches your eye. The temperature is higher than that of hell, but not enough to make you uncomfortable. A beige hallway leads you to the help desk, where you see a tall woman. She must be a fallen angel like you. Females aren’t born as demons, they become them. It's what your fate awaits, too.

“Hello there, darling, you must be the new sacrifice. Now, Taehyung’s been waiting for you! We’ve all heard about your decision to volunteer, what a brave soul,” she welcomes.

“Yeah, hi, I’m Xan. They must have sent you my files, surely you know my full name,” you lightly joke and add, “ so what’s yours?”

“Sowamic, but call me Wam, darling. We’ll have a whole eternity to get to know each other,“ she deadpans, making you second guess yourself. She must have noticed.

“Oh, no, don’t worry, dear. I know they feed you lies there but, most of us are happy here. You’ll like it in hell, I assure you. Now, let’s see our main guy. He’ll be frantic if he waits any longer.”

A semi-genuine smile curves your lips. In a short while, she stops in front of a big black door and knocks. A deep voice signals them to come in.

“Sir, here’s the new angel, Xan. The only archangel to fall here.”

“Thank you, Wam. You can leave,” he instructs. She obeys, and promptly walks out.

“Well, Xan, welcome to hell!”

You’re stomped. Is he the Devil or is he cosplaying? The stranger you’re conversing with looks too young and nice to be the Devil, and frankly, too handsome. Black eyes, his hair black also, a mole under his right eye and on his nose, flat but wide lips… He was ethereal.

“I-uhm… I didn’t expect this place to be…”

“This cosy?” he mocks.

“Yeah. It’s cosy. You-you don’t look like the Devil,” you challenge him.

“Did you expect an uglier, older and meaner version with less sense of fashion? Sorry, I don’t age, torture or mistreat. Plus, we have a Gucci store here, what did you take me for?”

Now you’re even more confused.

“Don’t you torture or rape people? How is this hell, people pay for their sins here! You, aren’t you..” You can’t finish the phrase.

“I am truly offended, Xan. Torturing and raping? I’m not a monster! I only make sinners get the karma they deserve, I don’t personally hurt anyone. That’s their own minds. And raping? I knew the old white guy up there was nuts but this shit is defamation on my behalf,” he scoffs. The audacity to frame him as a felon!

“I didn’t kn-“

“Of course you didn’t. Now you do.”

You lower your head in embarrassment. You really have a knack for ruining things before they start, huh?

“I’m not offended, angel, just upset a bit," he admits.

“I could… Make you feel better?” your mouth acts before your mind. To be fair, you have been getting these urges. He’s rumoured to be seductive and sinister, but is he really? You could have mistaken him for a male angel (which, granted, don’t exist) if it hadn’t been for the dark aura. He was unique, charming, kind and captivating, even. Maybe he was also a witch that bewitched you. Either way, you were enchanted. His smile exacerbated the said enchantment.

“How are you planning to do that, Xan?”

“Doll. Call me doll.”

He resists. He can play hard to get for you.

“Why should I?”

“Because I was conceived to serve you as such,” you rebuttle.

“Don’t tempt me, Xan. You don’t have to. Not everyone here is employed to satisfy me.”

You know that. You also know that you desire him. You exhibit it with a passionate kiss. His tongue is warm unlike the rest of his body. He pulls back.

“Xan, are you-“

“Yes, goddammit, I am sure. Do you not wanna fuck me?” you retort.

“I wanna fuck the innocence out of you, doll. How could I not? Look at you.” he purrs. His aura shines exquisitely, taking its toll on you. Whatever falls from his lips is honey, your favourite poison. The way he finally addresses you as you wish ignites your flames. He finally rids you of your clothes, your top and shorts pool on the ground.

“I wanna demonstrate how holy I can make you feel in hell. Will you behave and be my good doll?”

“Taehyung, please, I’m soaking wet for you, please do something! I’m at my wit’s end,” you plead with a small voice. He smirks, proud of and empowered by his effect on you. His doll couldn’t afford to wait more, could she?

“Open up, doll, let me taste you. Let me devour your angelic essence. I’ve been dying to try it.” Determined not to make him repeat it, your legs spread open like the beautiful petals of a flower. His cold fingers trace circles on your upper thighs, thoroughly teasing you. On your wrists is the sensation of a pair of handcuffs. He must have read your mind – good dolls don’t move after all. You love restraints.

“Are all archangels this attractive or is it just you, doll? Because I’ve never been this hard this easily. Your scent, it fucking destroys me. So tell me, are you the exception or the rule?” he inquires. You mutter an “I don’t know” between your rapid pants. When his tongue – finally – glides over your pussy, you lose your breath.

“What’s wrong, doll?” he chuckles, “don’t you want me to have a taste of my favourite dessert? You’re doing so good for me, if you keep this up, I might.” His unorthodox expressions only further rile you up. The ropes encasing your limbs immobilise you. His attacks on your tiny, untainted body grow like an avalanche of pleasure and come in tenfold. Then, a jolt of pain races through your body. He lightly slapped your bum.

“When I ask you a question, doll, you don’t ignore it. You answer me. You beg me to use your pure body, to ruin it and paint it with sin. Understand?” He leaves you no room for discussion.

“Y-yes, Taehyung, please, ah, have a taste,” you invite him meekly. His sinful lips dive deeper into your cunt, cherishing the hot, wet cave it’s digging. The precise and sharp movements of his tongue elicit the most wanton moan. He looks like a mad man eating for the first time, like a man with insatiable hunger for what he’s feasting on. No wonder, the devil does feed off of your essence. It’s his fuel. His hands don’t remain idle for too long, and soon grab your breasts. He’s squeezing them, feeling how fistful they are. He would kill a mortal or two for them. God molded you perfectly, and your plump breasts are no exception. The way they hang on your chest like two perfect droplets of water cements the sight to see before the Devil’s dark orbs. Your pert nipples, however, override your tits. If your tits take a slice, your nipples take the entire cake. The rosy buds erect under his touch, the colour and sensitivity permeating his most carnal desires. He grazes his teeth over your hardened, bubblegum coloured nipple. The other gets a pinch. The Devil drools over them, mesmerised. Your heavenly chants, half lidded eyes, pink cheeks and dark, long hair paint the most beautiful scene he’s ever behold in his life. Your beauty enchants like it was designed to. He’s busy getting drunk on it when something oozes from your nipples.

“Angel… You’re lactating. Fuck, are you trying to kill me? God, look at you, so wicked yet innocent… Fuck, doll, I can hardly restrain myself from ravishing you.”

A broken sob pops out of your mouth. He gravitates towards you, your left nipple now between his cold lips. You shriek at the coldness but he soothes you. Sucking your milk from one nipple, the devil’s advances oscillate between pinching and twisting the other. Your milk must taste divine to the devil, affirmed by his pleased moans around the swollen bud. Your tits feel sore, albeit less. When your left tit is emptied, he switches to the other one, now teasing the vacant nipple. He takes his time. When you’re all out of milk, he lifts his head to meet your antsy gaze.

“Doll, your milk tasted so savory, thick and sweet. But I’m going back to my second home now, so spread your legs wide open. I’m gonna taste your sherbet,” he commands. You wilfully obey, and his jet black locks block the view of your angelhood when he kneels down between your legs. Your fresh taste coats his tongue, giving a shower to his tastebuds. You’ve already leaked more than enough to make him dizzy, yet who is he to refuse more of your love potion? His slurping never relents, only causing you to drip more. However, you both acquire enough biology knowledge. Your most delicate spot hasn’t been caressed yet. It’s out of its hood, winking at Taehyung. He doesn’t ignore it for too long. Tender kisses to your pearl crescendo into unforgiving sucks. His lips encapture your sensitive bud. The harsh sucks and the slight graze of his teeth spike a euphoric moment, and you swear your soul left your body for a second there. You’re a mere slave to his ministrations. The edge pulls you in, one more step, one more suck and you’re at the top, and then… The suction vanishes. You moan in desperation, to no avail. The fire in your stomach extinguishes while your sanity crumbles into pieces.

“Ssshh, doll, be good and ride that edge. Show me that you can suffer for me beautifully, so I know you deserve your reward. That’s it, take it nice and slow. Don’t make me gag you, doll,” he exhorts. Your whimpers dim down, now the only audible sound in the room is his sucking. Before you get to the edge again, he halts. You don’t dare to meet his eyes. He flips you on the bed, your hands still tied behind but now your face is buried into the sheets. A ruffling sound echoes, signalling him getting out of his jeans and boxers. His cock remains out of your vision, nevertheless you feel it when the head teases your clit. His precum leaves a burning sensation on your pearl. The devil rams his monster of a cock inside you, easing in slowly to facilitate the process and decrease your pain.

“Fucking shit, g-god, I’ve fucked so many mortals and demons, doll, but your tightness can’t compare. No wonder why archangels are renowned for having the best pussies. You’re squeezing my cock so well, fuck.”

The stretch steals your breath from you right on the spot. He was extremely thick, widening your welcoming walls with no shame, but he was also long. At least 12 inches, from what you could feel. It was throbbing inside you hotly. The devil lost himself in your angelic bliss, he couldn’t help it. Archangels were created by god himself to be the most seductive to the devil, and Taehyung couldn’t resist his own nature. Your shining, ablaze skin, mixing with his honey one; your innocence and white wings, your gloomy, porcelain aura that purifies his dark one, your cunt that clenched around his fat cock… His aggresive pounds drilled into your hot, velvety walls at a fast pace. Your clenches brought him to the edge quickly, but he couldn’t afford to cum just yet.

You, on the other hand, are filled to the brim. Experiencing your hole being this full levitates you. You pride yourself in the thought of him being this hard because of you. His little doll he treasures. His cock is red, throbbing, swollen. You feel the blood flow of the primary vein that cascaded under it. All his pleasure, love, and cock; it’s all yours. He’s all yours and you’re all his.

“Do you know what happens when I cum?” he raises the question. You nod.

“Your-your cum… Fuck, it, uh, makes me, makes me faint because m-my pure body cannot process your sin-ful seed,” you explain in a rush.

“That’s my doll, beautiful and clever,” he praises. His index finger hovers above your clit, lightly teasing it. When it lands on it eventually, he draws circles and eights on it, accompanied by soft pinches. It drives you up to wall. Your moans fuel his ego more, he knows you’re close. So is he. Fascinated and tantalised by his engorged cock, your heavenly pussy clenches. Your clenches and tightness torturously suck the soul out of him. He’s being milked to the last drop. Your cunt is greedy. Since he won’t be able to endure your sweet torment for too long, he enacts. One finger on your left nipple, the other on your pearl, he plays your body like an instrument, and he happens to be a virtuoso. Your pleasure threshold soars high, as if the devil bewitched you. Maybe he did. You wouldn’t mind.

“Do you like it when I taint you? Make you commit a sin? Do you love being my precious little doll?” he entices.

The fact is, you do. Being surrounded by his sinful and worshipping embrace paves a way to your core. If God hadn’t wanted you to sin, he should have admonished harder. Instead, he amplified the Devil.

“I do, I love it when you praise me, wanna be a good, desperate doll for you. I want you to wreck me to the ground and then build me up again, please, Taehyung-“ His vicious chuckle overshadows your pleas.

“Your wish is my command, doll. You’ve been so good for me. You deserve it. Are you close?” his voice rumbles in his chest. You nod, too spent to talk. The precum leaking from his slit already has you light-headed.

“Then cum, cum for me and wash my cock with your holiness like the angel you are. Let your little heaven squeeze me as I rip it to shreds” he implores. That’s all it takes.

Sobs ring in the background. Your cunt spasms around him, strangulating his length and blessing him. He feels your juice lubricate his cock even more. Your eternal grace guards you even amongst the throes of passion. You barely catch your breath when he comes with a deep grunt. Your vision fades into darkness and the semen decorating your heaven makes you pass out. His harsh thrusts cease to exist. The devil eyes the unconscious angel under him, swooning. Even in her state, she carries her grace and majesty. His now flaccid dick leaves the safety and warmth of her walls that encase it. He shivers at the sensation.

Five minutes later, the angel is untied, cleaned up and resting on his bed. The smitten devil is playing with her black hair, and giving her temple kisses when the urge kicks in. She would gain consciousness a few hours later, and still hold her holiness like he adored.

#bts #bts smut #kim taehyung #bulletproof boy scouts #bangtansonyeondan #bangtan #bangtan boys #bts v x reader #bts v #angel x demon #smut #kpop #kpop smut #방탄소년단 #방탄소년단 김태형 #김태형 #bts taehyung #taehyung #bts x reader

[theheightofdishonor]

Terry Boot

Let’s talk about Terry Boot, shall we?

The thing about Terry Boot was that he cared so much about academics and grades and being in line yet was one of the first to join Dumbledore's Army. Terry held no particular attachment to the Trio but he was willing to believe Harry, couldn’t bring himself to resent Hermione, no matter how much more accomplished she seemed and hadn’t ever even thought to overlook Ron Weasley for his counterparts. Terry Boot who loved his best friend Michael Corner as much as he loved the smell of old books, maybe even more.  When his instincts told him to make himself invisible, safe during that final, dark year, his heart told him to fight once more and it was his heart that Terry Boot would obey, he who preached that instinct was never wrong.  Terry Boot who strove to help make a new generation safe, who couldn’t let Voldemort ruin everything he held dear. Let´s talk about Terry Boot that looked at frightened children and told them to not fear for knowledge was power and wit beyond measure would always be a man's greatest treasure. Terry Boot with a mysterious knack for knowing everything and noticing the smallest details. When Hermione Granger wasn't there with her know-it-all attitude to help them survive, Terry was the one that stepped up to fill the role, to make sure that anyone who needed help could find it with him. Terry Boot who was the counterpart to his best friend and never had to learn the hard way never to judge a book by it's cover. Terry Boot who would treat Gryffindors, Slytherins and Hufflepuffs the same as he would treat his fellow housemates because Intelligence, wisdom, and creativity could find within any of them. Terry Boot who would rally up Ravenclaw to defend their home, to take arms and protect this house of learning. Let´s talk about young Terry who thought he knew the true meaning of the words that were the foundation to his house, of Wisdom and Intelligence and Wit. Terry Boot who stood proud and strong, and kept his DA Galleon and at their 10 year reunion gave Hermione Granger a duplicate Galleon with the exact charms she used with a single addition and grinned when she admitted she couldn't figure it out and then proceeded to show her how he had made up this particular charm. Terry Boot, the first to remember the secret charms that Parvati had learned from her father and the Irish magic that Seamus had spoke about and holed himself up for days to figure out how to combine this magic, this unlawed common magic that the Death Eaters would never be able to defeat. Terry Boot who loved to adopt a calm, cool look that would break into a grin more often than not. Who knew to keep his thoughts and suspicions to himself unless it was necessary to do otherwise yet when demanded to Crucio the vulnerable child in front of him, instead cursed the Carrows, vanishing lightning fast. Terry Boot who worried constantly and couldn't stop from muttering protective enchantments during the excruciating five minutes when Neville made his most defiant appearance right in the Great Wall. Let´s talk about this boy that would die and more painfully, would live for his best friend, this boy never content with surviving, who was a calculating storm of hexes and jinxes, this boy that looked so dainty, fragile even but in battle, was indestructible. This boy forced to grow up all too soon, who comforted Sue Li as she confided in him about her fears of this war, her doubts of having to choose a side, who understood that sometimes, letting others see the weakness in yourself, showing them how to use their own to their advantage reaped benefits far greater than the drawbacks. I want to talk about this guy who never stepped into the spotlights, choosing instead to simply observe and learn and quietly make himself stronger, better. Who prepared in advance for every possible outcome but only when he thought it necessary. Terry Boot who spend a lifetime fighting for the rights of others, of everyone but himself because he knew first-handed the importance of that. Terry Boot who was a hero in every way but would shake his head at the word because it wasn't about him, it was about generations to come who should be given opportunities to learn and improve. Terry Boot who once dreamed of writing a book, to share his knowledge with the world but chose not to, because of the chance it could be used to destroy, to control. Instead, Terry Boot who taught Charms at Hogwarts and taught this new generation about how intelligence and wit could save as well as destruct, and held all the power of Minerva Mcgonagall in his stride. Terry Boot who would stay up late at the library and preferred long analytical discussions with the Ravenclaw knockers rather than 3 word answers. Terry Boot who got along with Anthony as much as they argued, who would stop Padma to wish her and Parvati Happy Birthday, who was the only student to get along with Madam Pince. Terry Boot, sincere and a good liar though only when he deemed necessary. Terry Boot as long and lanky as Ron Weasley with terrible balance and a love for classical music. Terry Boot who zoned out way too often and was horrible at dancing but could speak 5 different languages and had a talent for piano, who did Michael and Anthony´s homework at least ⅗ of the time because how could he say no? Terry Boot with a secret love for chocolate cake and wouldn't for the life of him try another type, no matter how much Padma tried. Terry Boot with a habit of talking with his hands and not quietly either and that one time he hit Draco in the face while telling Lisa about how Tony had landed himself in detention and Sue swears it was the greatest moment in history. Terry Boot who always took a passive role himself and watched and learned from afar how Harry killed the basilisk, how Ron had sacrificed himself in the chess game and admired their courage yet never thought about doing something himself, not yet. Terry Boot who would attempt to wholly give his attention to whoever he was talking to but would usually get distracted by something else, who's fallen down the moving staircases more times than he cares to admit. Imagine Terry Boot who meets Michael Corner his first year and couldn't help but be slightly jealous by Anthony Goldstein who hangs around Mike 24/7 and still is slightly jealous of him until 6th year because Tony and Mike have been neighbors their entire lives, they've known each other for so much longer than he has. Terry Boot who grew up on a coast but damn it, he holds no skill in surfing (ok, maybe a little). Terry who can shift into beach surfer mode anytime at all during the summer, and the only time he accidentally revealed his other persona to Mike who looked at him strange for weeks after. Let´s talk about the Terry Boot that loved card games and could control his facial expressions for just long enough that he wouldn't reveal anything crucial. Let´s talk about the memories he thought of the first time he conjured a patronus, of Mike´s mischief and the discussions he and Anthony would get into, Sue´s delight when he had slapped Draco accidentally and Seamus´s grin when he voluntarily showed him how to mix a potion so that it would explode seemingly by accident exactly when Snape would loom over it. He remembered when he and Hermione slowly started to become friends and the moment the Sorting Hat yelled Ravenclaw as the house Terry would be in for 7 years. Terry Davis that made friends with the reluctant Tracey Davis, showed her the good in a house deemed evil, and made an ally for life. Let´s talk about Terry Boot of Ravenclaw House whose loyalty and determination could’ve put him in Hufflepuff but because Terry had learned the power of knowledge at such a young age, had taught himself to turn to wit and intelligence as a form of survival had it engraved into his soul that knowledge was the power he desperately sought.

#Terry Boot #harry potter #precious ravenclaw #character study #thoughts

[theheightofdishonor]

Let´s talk about Terry Boot, shall we? 

Let´s talk about Terry Boot who cared so much about academics yet was one of the first to join Dumbledore's Army. Terry Boot who held no particular attachment to the Trio but was willing to believe Harry, held no resentment towards Hermione when she mastered spells that he hadn´t yet, didn´t overlook Ron Weasley for his counterparts. Terry Boot who loved his best friend Michael Corner as much as he loved the smell of old books. Whose instincts told him to make himself invisible, safe that final, dark year yet his heart told him to fight once more. Terry Boot who strove to help make a new generation safe, who couldn´t let Voldemort ruin everything he held dear. Let´s talk about Terry Boot that looked at frightened children and told them to not fear for knowledge was power and wit beyond measure would always be a man's greatest treasure. Terry Boot with a mysterious knack for knowing everything and noticing the smallest details. When Hermione Granger wasn't there with her know-it-all attitude to help them survive, Terry was the one that stepped up to fill the role, to make sure that anyone who needed help could find it with him. Terry Boot who was the counterpart to his best friend and never had to learn the hard way never to judge a book by it's cover. Terry Boot who would treat Gryffindors, Slytherins and Hufflepuffs the same as he would treat his fellow housemates because Intelligence, wisdom, and creativity could find within any of them. Terry Boot who would rally up Ravenclaw to defend their home, to take arms and protect this house of learning. Let´s talk about young Terry who thought he knew the true meaning of the words that were the foundation to his house, of Wisdom and Intelligence and Wit. Terry Boot who stood proud and strong, and kept his DA Galleon and at their 10 year reunion gave Hermione Granger a duplicate Galleon with the exact charms she used with a single addition and grinned when she admitted she couldn't figure it out and then proceeded to show her how he had made up this particular charm. Terry Boot, the first to remember the secret charms that Parvati had learned from her father and the Irish magic that Seamus had spoke about and holed himself up for days to figure out how to combine this magic, this unlawed common magic that the Death Eaters would never be able to defeat. Terry Boot who loved to adopt a calm, cool look that would break into a grin more often than not. Who knew to keep his thoughts and suspicions to himself unless it was necessary to do otherwise yet when demanded to crucio the vulnerable child in front of him, instead cursed the Carrows, vanishing lightning fast. Terry Boot who worried constantly and couldn't stop from muttering protective enchantments during the excruciating five minutes when Neville made his most defiant appearance right in the Great Wall. Let´s talk about this boy that would die and more painfully, would live for his best friend, this boy never content with surviving, who was a calculating storm of hexes and jinxes, this boy that looked so dainty, fragile even but in battle, was indestructible. This boy forced to grow up all too soon, who comforted Sue Li as she confided in him about her fears of this war, her doubts of having to choose a side, who understood that sometimes, letting others see the weakness in yourself, showing them how to use their own to their advantage reaped benefits far greater than the drawbacks. I want to talk about this guy who never stepped into the spotlights, choosing instead to simply observe and learn and quietly make himself stronger, better. Who prepared in advance for every possible outcome but only when he thought it necessary. Terry Boot who spend a lifetime fighting for the rights of others, of everyone but himself because he knew first-handed the importance of that. Terry Boot who was a hero in every way but would shake his head at the word because it wasn't about him, it was about generations to come who should be given opportunities to learn and improve. Terry Boot who once dreamed of writing a book, to share his knowledge with the world but chose not to, because of the chance it could be used to destroy, to control. Instead, Terry Boot who taught Charms at Hogwarts and taught this new generation about how intelligence and wit could save as well as destruct, and held all the power of Minerva Mcgonagall in his stride. Terry Boot who would stay up late at the library and preferred long analytical discussions with the Ravenclaw knockers rather than 3 word answers. Terry Boot who got along with Anthony as much as they argued, who would stop Padma to wish her and Parvati Happy Birthday, who was the only student to get along with Madam Pince. Terry Boot, sincere and a good liar though only when he deemed necessary. Terry Boot as long and lanky as Ron Weasley with terrible balance and a love for classical music. Terry Boot who zoned out way too often and was horrible at dancing but could speak 5 different languages and had a talent for piano, who did Michael and Anthony´s homework at least ⅗ of the time because how could he say no? Terry Boot with a secret love for chocolate cake and wouldn't for the life of him try another type, no matter how much Padma tried. Terry Boot with a habit of talking with his hands and not quietly either and that one time he hit Draco in the face while telling Lisa about how Tony had landed himself in detention and Sue swears it was the greatest moment in history. Terry Boot who always took a passive role himself and watched and learned from afar how Harry killed the basilisk, how Ron had sacrificed himself in the chess game and admired their courage yet never thought about doing something himself, not yet. Terry Boot who would attempt to wholly give his attention to whoever he was talking to but would usually get distracted by something else, who's fallen down the moving staircases more times than he cares to admit. Imagine Terry Boot who meets Michael Corner his first year and couldn't help but be slightly jealous by Anthony Goldstein who hangs around Mike 24/7 and still is slightly jealous of him until 6th year because Tony and Mike have been neighbors their entire lives, they've known each other for so much longer than he has. Terry Boot who grew up on a coast but damn it, he holds no skill in surfing (ok, maybe a little). Terry who can shift into beach surfer mode anytime at all during the summer, and the only time he accidentally revealed his other persona to Mike who looked at him strange for weeks after. Let´s talk about the Terry Boot that loved card games and could control his facial expressions for just long enough that he wouldn't reveal anything crucial. Let´s talk about the memories he thought of the first time he conjured a patronus, of Mike´s mischief and the discussions he and Anthony would get into, Sue´s delight when he had slapped Draco accidentally and Seamus´s grin when he voluntarily showed him how to mix a potion so that it would explode seemingly by accident exactly when Snape would loom over it. He remembered when he and Hermione slowly started to become friends and the moment the Sorting Hat yelled Ravenclaw as the house Terry would be in for 7 years. Terry Davis that made friends with the reluctant Tracey Davis, showed her the good in a house deemed evil, and made an ally for life. Let´s talk about Terry Boot of Ravenclaw House whose loyalty and determination could´ve put him in Hufflepuff but because Terry had learned the power of knowledge at such a young age, had taught himself to turn to wit and intelligence as a form of survival had it engraved into his soul that knowledge was the power he desperately sought.

#terry boot #ravenclaw #character study #harry potter