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toxic3mmy · 1 month

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hiiii ive been rlly obsessed with pjo lately, and this idea's been stuck in my head sooo

a pjo au where reader is a child of eros, and accidentally shoots q with one of the love arrows while practicing archery?? and then he gets a puppy crush and starts following reader around, just a cute romcom :)

woah, this idea sounds awesome! thanks so much for the request babe!! i’ll try my best to satisfy your pjo obsession hehehe

(also, i tweaked some junk like powers of the children of zeus and stuff just to make it easier, JUST PRETEND ITS CORRECT PLZ)

(thinking of adding original art to this IDK GIMME TIME)

prompt: you’re practicing archery and shoot alex, child of apollo, with a love arrow which leads to an accidental crush on you

no warnings! super cute and fluffy and romcom!!

________________________________________

part one ~

[listen at each star *]

it was a quiet spring morning. you were up and ready for your day and you decided that it would be perfect weather to practice your archery skills. you collected your materials and head off to your usual practice area.

you spruce up your target on the beautiful willow tree trunk in front of you and you begin.

you put your things out on your practice table in a neat manner. you play some of your “weird” non mythological music and begin.

you relax completely, hold up your bow and with a deep breath in, you let go.

plonk

“god.. that’s just terrible” you mumble to yourself as you spot the arrow almost a foot away from the practice board.

you draw back again and let go.

plonk

“no wonder i need the damn practice” you’re a bit annoyed seeing the arrow land in the grass at the base of the tree but continue to practice.

you draw back again, feeling a slight tingly vibration in your fingertips, and you knew this was a good sign. you were going to hit it right on the bullseye. the moment you begin to exhale, your music makes an odd doppler effect-like sound and it freaks you out a bit. you still absentmindedly let go of the arrow but don’t see where it landed.

“puta madre!”

a blood curdling shriek escapes you. you frantically try to hide from whoever it was that yelled.

a boy with dark hair came up from behind the willow tree and as soon as your eyes met, he holds both his hands up in defeat.

“don’t shoot, please!”

“dude, what the fuck are you doing here?! i almost had a heart attack! ew what’s wrong with your skin?” you made a face of disgust at him

“huh? look, i was just trying to find where that music was coming from and you shot me! like seriously, can you help me get this stupid arrow out of my ass?! god it’s like really deep in my butt meat”

“okay firstly, ew. secondly, ew.”

“im serious, can you give me a hand?” he pleaded, and as you approached him you noticed way too many things at once;

one: his skin was seriously looking freaky

two: he was a child of apollo, a sworn enemy of your eros parents

three: the arrow was really deep in his buttcheek

four: ….

“oh fuck me”

his skin was literally glowing. like… with love and junk.

you look down at the arrow you just removed from him and… oh no, how?!

you shot him with a love arrow. that’s just your luck, huh?

“hey… come here often sweetheart?” he smirked and you seriously had to choke down vomit

“really, that’s what you call flirting? you are such a little virgin boy”

“maybe you can change that” he holds your hand in his and pulls you in closer “maybe you want to put something else in my ass tonight besides that arrow” he smirked once again

you couldn’t believe the words he was saying to you.

you began laughing uncontrollably at his poor attempts at being suave and hot. you bent over laughing, you laughed so hard your abdomen was in absolute pain.

“see? i knew you’d come around, sexy lady” he pulled you up to be chest to chest with him

you quickly pushed him off and dried your tears from laughing so much.

“shut up dude, what even is your name? never mind, we need to get you a cure because i am definitely not going to deal with you and this… love crush thing” you began to collect your things in your backpack and you reached for the same arrow the raven haired menace did, as he was trying to help you.

“my name is alex… but you definitely have permission to call me papi” he said as your touching hands were intertwined in his and you quickly yanked your hand away

“blegh! you seriously need help, you creep! come on, we don’t have time to waste! our parents will absolutely kill us if they see us together” you yanked his arm to follow you and your head snapped at him as you heard a lewd moan come from alex.

“oh yeah, i love it when you’re rough baby” he moaned even louder and you plonked him in the head.

rolling your eyes, you continued to drag him to the only person who could help you out with no hesitation.

it took about fifteen agonizing minutes of walking to your friend thalia’s home as alex would not stop flirting with you and it wouldn’t be that bad of an issue but the dude had absolutely no game so it was just a lot of secondhand embarrassment you were dealing with.

you knocked on thalia’s door and prayed she was in.

thankfully, she opened the door a second later with a sweet smile,

“oh y/n! what a lovely surprise and… um excuse me what the actual frick is going on here??”

you pulled alex in and closed her door hurriedly.

“look man, i was practicing my archery right?”

“uh huh…” thalia replied

“because i simply suck balls at it right??”

“no you don’t darling! you’re a natural beauty and not to mention a talented one at that!” alex sighed, admiring you and inch from your face.

you shoved away his big head with your hand, and continued,

“and well… I SHOT THIS DUMBASS WITH A LOVE ARROW! PLEASE GIVE ME SOME KIND OF POTION THINGY TO FIX IT, PLEASE!” you beg thalia

“oh no! my honey is in distress! fear not, sweet maiden—”

thalia blows a green dust in his face and alex plops down on the ground like a sack of potatoes and he’s snoring away immediately.

“oh my god, thank you so so much! you don’t understand, he was literally like moaning all the way here and he calls that flirting?! he—”

“okay girl, do you need some eepy dust too?? just take a deep breath okay?”

you nod and calm down

“okay, as much as i know you need my help and as much as i want to help you, i can’t. we literally just ran out of the potion for that yesterday and i can’t make any new batches because im missing the main ingredient”

“well that’s okay! tell me where to get it and i’ll go right now and we can fix this whole mess and get rid of the buffoon!”

“no y/n, you don’t understand… the ingredient we need isn’t something you can just go get…”

you looked at her with a really confused face

“the ingredient is uh… spider legs, really weird i know! but you know the all mighty zeus, my pops, yeah he’s not as big and bad as he seems. he’s actually terrified of spiders so he banned them here in our world and i don’t get any spiders in stock until christmas because that’s the only time i can get my guy out here and… yeah”

“are you serious? god damn your dad and his arachnophobia..” i pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration

“yeah well, it’s either wait eight months for this potion or… get your father to undo the love spell”

i sigh and put my head down in my hands, feeling really defeated. what the hell do i do now?

“well… on the bright side, that dust i used on him will have some good effects when used alongside a love spell” thalia offers and you perk up

“wait really?? is he going to stop being so creepy with me?”

“well, maybe? it differs from person to person. but i do know that it most likely will make him act more in tune with his regular personality when he’s into someone, if that helps?” she smiled nervously

“let’s just hope he stops moaning every time i touch him” i say hopefully

“so.. you should probably try telling your dad. it was all a huge accident and i don’t think he’s going to be too upset. yeah he’ll probably give you the old ‘you need to be more responsible’ speech thing but im sure he’ll help you… unless he punishes you by not helping” thalia laughs deviously at the idea

“well thanks anyways, man. also, how long til he wakes up?” you ask, pointing at alex on the floor

“oh, one sec” thalia moves closer to him and kicks him in the balls

alex immediately shoots his eyes open and groans in pain

you look at thalia and the two of you laugh together.

thalia hands alex a pain reliever lollipop as a parting gift and you say your goodbyes to one another.

now it’s just you and alex.. and you were nervous about the way he was going to act with you.

“hey.. i uh, im really sorry about the way i was acting earlier. i seriously was acting super virgin-esque huh? i kinda heard everything you guys were saying even though i was asleep and yeah… but hey, at least now i’m not moaning at you like a harlot right now?” he laughed softly

“that’s so embarrassing that you heard us… but hey, at least you’re somewhat normal again?” you asked and offered him a smile

“i uh.. i never even asked for your name”

“oh, its y/n” you reply in a quiet voice

“that’s a really beautiful name… did i ever mention what my powers were?”

“no actually, you didn’t” you shook your head

“well, can i borrow your bow?” he asks sheepishly

you hesitantly nod and hand him your bow and a normal arrow

he places the arrow in its rightful position and comes up behind you. he’s still holding onto it as he places it in your hands. his arms are completely around you and his head is right next to yours.

“okay, relax. now, you see that small red flag thing on the tree over there? imagine the arrow landing right in the middle. take a deep breath” his hands were atop yours as he pulled the bow back and he whispered almost seductively,

“let go”

you both let the arrow go and it shoots right where you imagined it to. you gulped at how close he was to you. he smelled of pine and cinnamon. it was wonderful..

“you just needed a little push.. you did great y/n” he said in a low voice, still holding onto your hands on the bow

why did you want to lean in and kiss him?

wait, what?!

you immediately pulled away, putting as much space between the two of you as possible.

“y-yeah.. um thank you alex. should we keep going now?” you ask, unable to make eye contact with him

“whatever you’d like to do y/n. i’m honestly just enjoying your presence right now. it almost feels like it’s just you and me here, doesn’t it?”

you didnt know what to say. you agreed completely. you wanted nothing more than to waste your time with alex and his handsome smile and his sweet way with words and—

“y/n? can i show you my other power?” her broke the scary thoughts you were having

“sure”

alex began to sing the same song in was listening to earlier, without missing a single beat. how did he even know this song?

he took your hand and sung his heart out to you. you felt a swarm of butterflies flutter at the pit of your stomach. it feels like you were the one that got a love arrow stuck in your butt.

“your voice is beautiful… how do you know that song?” you asked, continuing to walk alongside alex

“well, i heard it a long time ago. sometimes i can hear it in my dreams, too. it’s not music we can listen to here, it’s mortal music i think. how do you know it?” he asked curiously

“i’ve always had an interest in mortal music.. i was actually playing that song this morning when the whole incident happened, i think you may have interfered with the sound waves when you were trying to find where it was coming from”

“that’s right… i guess this is our song then, huh?” he stated, grabbing me gently by the arm as we stopped in our tracks

“yeah, i guess so” your face was gently raised up by alex’s fingertips, forcing you to look into his entrancing brown eyes

“y/n, are you sure you’re not a siren?” alex whispered, his lips practically touching your lips

“w-what?..”

“it feels like you’re luring me to my sweet demise.. and what’s a death sentence without me being given a last meal? please, let me taste your lips before you take my soul away. it would make me feel oh so complete in this bittersweet end” he claimed proudly

with a flutter of your eyes, you shut them softly and gently press your lips against his

you feel his arms wrap around you in a tight but gentle way, and you reciprocated by holding his torso tightly

your hands grip his shirt tightly in fists as alex deepens the kiss, a small whimper leaving his soon to be bruised lips

alex pulls away and says softly,

“i can die a happy man now, y/n”

you had no idea what just happened or how it happened or even why you let it happen???

there was just something about him that lured you in. you wanted to take him in in every way possible, because to consume him would mean to be one.

god, what the hell were you even thinking?

[TO BE CONTINUED]

#alex quackity #alexis quackity #quackity #quackity x reader #pjo #cupid

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lokisninerealms · 2 years

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A Tellers Secret

Synopsis: A friendship that holds no secrets. So, how does it feel when you and Loki have to share your deepest secrets with each other.

Category / Pairing: Fluff, Fluff, and even more Fluff; Loki x GN!Reader

Warnings: Slight mentions of toxic/abusive households, childhood bullying

A/N: with it still being pride month, i wanted to write a fluffy loki fic for all my fellow lgbtq+ angels. you are loved in every way 🤍

MASTERLIST

Sharing your thoughts and expressing your feelings have never been easy. Growing up in a home where every feeling you felt besides happiness was looked down upon. Your childhood wasn’t easy, you were always a reserved kid. One that never spoke out, keeping to themselves as they observed the world around them.

Other children always picked fun at you for how quiet you were. While they were out having fun, hanging out with their friends and exploring the world with no shame. You sat alone, whether it was in your bed or under a tree, drawing and reading. A creative soul, you were.

Always drawing with your pencil and colored ink pens, pencil shavings all over your lap as you sketched whatever came to mind. On days where it was nice outside, you would cozy up beneath a tree to read the latest novel that peaked your interest. Your eyes taking in every word as the story unfolded in your little mind, sparking your imagination.

Friends were never your thing. Maybe it was the extreme introvert in you, or maybe it was just the fact that you never put effort into making them. People always presumed you as closed off, one not to bother; which is why it surprised you when you finally made one. A friend.

Loki. A boy that you met, accidentally, when roaming around your favorite book market in Asgard. You loved this market. It brought you so many good memories of the many interesting tales you discovered and the amazing bookkeeper herself, Phoebe.

Remembering it just like it was yesterday.

Your little legs carrying you around the market, as you searched for the next novel to burry your nose in. A book already in your hand. You reached up on your tip toes to grab the spine of the book to pull it down. The book flew out of the shelf, knocking you down as you fell.

“Loki! What did I say about using magic while in my market?” Phoebe scolded. You huffed, rubbing your elbow as you looked towards Phoebe as she continued to lecture the boy. The boy, you assumed looked to be of your age, who conjured the book out of thin air.

Blue eyes met yours as he walked towards you, a mischievous grin displayed. Picking up the book that had fallen from your hold, he examined it. “Prometheus Bound, interesting read.” You huffed, brushing yourself off before snatching the book out of his hands.

“I’m sorry to have knocked you down, Phoebe told me to not use magic on books, I couldn’t help myself.” A grin still plastered on his face, arrogance written all over him. Rolling your eyes, you pushed past the raven haired boy as you handed the book to Phoebe to check out to you. Long forgetting about the other book that you wanted to read.

You made your journey over to the other side of town, ready to dive into your book under the cool shade of the willow tree. A tap on your shoulder caused you to jump as you spun around. The boy from the market standing behind you, before you could speak he cut you off.

“Look I’m sorry, sincerely I am. I feel like we got off on the right foot. I’m Loki.” He held out his hand, you were hesitant. You furrowed your brows. Not the type who liked human interaction, let alone, conversation.

“Well are you just going to leave me here or will you return the favor of introducing yourself to me?” The same arrogant tone falling from his lip. You sighed, knowing that he wouldn’t leave you alone. Introducing yourself by giving him your name. Still thrown off by this strange interaction with a stranger.

Loki handed you the novel that he had magicked on. “You had left it at the market. I was wondering if you wanted to read in the cool shade under the tree.” He pointed towards the tree, the spot you always nested under while reading. “Many people here don’t appreciate the art of literacy, so will you join me?”

A smile appeared, maybe having a friend wouldn’t be so bad after all. You nodded, making your way over towards the tree as you both indulged in the novels.

You smiled at the memory. Loki had become your closest, your only friend, to be honest. It didn’t bother you though, you and Loki had a lot more in common.

While your encounter showed an arrogant, cheeky bastard. Underneath that persona was a very intelligent, funny and charming sweetheart. There was no doubt that Loki was your best friend. The person you could laugh with until both your bellies hurt. The one who you always joined with on mischievous pranks and plans. While also being the only person you could confide in, who you could tell all your deepest and dark secrets to without fear of being judged.

Both you and Loki struggled on being vulnerable, both growing up in households where feelings were not to be discussed. Maybe that was why you two were so close. He never judged you and you could never judge him. You both had spent countless hours reading under the willow tree, running around causing havoc, and staying up late to watch the nightfall of Asgard while talking about anything and everything.

So, it wasn’t a surprise to you when Loki had come out to you. You knew Loki like the back of your hand, knowing everything about him from his manners to how he would always arrange his books in alphabetical order.

Both of you were staring up at the sky, night had already fallen over the realm of Asgard as you peacefully sat on the balcony. Loki was awfully quiet, different from his usually chatter self as he always had something on his mind. That night however, he hadn’t spoke a word.

It wasn’t until he shifted towards you that your eyes saw how anxious, terrified he truly was. You grabbed his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as you knew whatever was bothering him, he could tell you. Both of you always allowing each other the space and time, never pushing as you understood how breaking down your walls was never easy.

“I-“ He started. Pausing, as he looked everywhere but you. You gave his hand another squeeze, whatever he needed to tell you. He could tell you. “For a while, this feeling has been consuming me. I don’t know when it started or how it started but I’m attracted to both women….and men.”

Exhaling, he finally looked at you. Engulfing him in a hug, you felt him tense before melting into your arms. Physical touch was another thing that you both have grown to like, being the only ones that felt comfortable exchanging hugs with each other.

“I’m so proud of you for telling me, Lokes. I’m glad you felt safe enough to share with me, any woman or man would be absolutely lucky to be courted by you.” You gushed. Proud of your friend for sharing with you, his deepest secret.

He smiled, a weight being lifted off his shoulders as he brought you back in for another hug. “Can I share with you something?” You broke away from him, staring up at him as he grabbed your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m afraid that I haven’t confided in you either about what’s been on my mind. I’m attracted to (men/women/men and women) as well.” You said. Loki gave you the biggest smile you have ever seen on the God’s face. Feeling his strong arms wrap around you, you laughed into each other’s embrace.

Loki pulled away, grinning at you before telling you how proud he was of you.

There was nothing, absolutely nothing that could be kept between you two. For you both knew that no matter what, you’d always have each other’s backs. Forever each other’s mischief in crime.

#loki god of mischief #loki (marvel)#mcu loki #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki x female reader #loki x ofc #loki fanfic #loki fandom #loki imagine #loki laufeyson #loki fluff #loki of asgard

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dreamhot · 11 months

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14 and 20

14. Any favorite motifs

in terms of thematic elements in my art ... does obscenely fluffy hair count because i feel as though people have mentioned that to me before LMAO but as far as general themes go, it's prob cliche but i'm always a sucker for space vibes. i don't tend to incorporate it into my own stuff as much, but it's something i love in others' art

20. Something everyone else finds hard to draw but you enjoy

lord i'm not sure if there's anything i'm particularly versed in compared to other people 😭 the urge comes and goes, but i've had phases of being really into charcoal portraits, which i found turned out pretty well! i loved working with willow charcoal and conte in life drawing classes - not the still life content, but actual humans. some people hated it, so ... assuming that works?

#smile.ask #anon #ask games

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darkmatter-nebula · 1 year

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While trying to find a way to get back home the Hexquad they renovate that old house and Willow, Gus and Amity hang up the drawings of loved ones and when Hunter the blond boy hangs up the drawing of a certain starboy

Good morning! Thanks for the request!

This takes place before Colli and Alador build the new Portal.

Drabble: Missing You

It was a quiet afternoon in Gravesfield. The Hexsquad renovated that old house. Amity, Willow and Gus decided to hang up drawings of loved ones afterwards. Hunter liked this idea. The young Grimwalker missed a certain someone more than anything.

The blonde boy made a drawing of his beloved little brother Colli. "Colli... I hope you're ok. I love you and I miss you so much." The blonde boy whispered softly as he put the drawing of the celestial boy with otherworldly fluffy lavender hair and a heart of gold on the wall.

The End

#lost but now found au #the collector #hunter #clawthorne brothers #luz noceda #gus porter #willow park #amity blight #fanfic

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mckennamayfairgoode · 3 years

Text

The Songbirds Keep Singing Like They Know the Score

Wilhemina Venable x Reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: Wilhemina vs. the voices that haunt her.

Warnings: Angsty angst as requested and fluffy fluff because I am a marshmallow.

A/N: @lucyintheskywithxanax Hi, this is for you x.

Song: Songbird by Fleetwood Mac

When Wilhemina was a child, when she was small and broken and scared, when she could no longer see the world in front of her past the tears in her eyes, when the voices would overwhelm her and threaten to swallow her whole, she’d picture a place in her mind: a field of wildflowers, of daffodils and daisies and sunflowers, and a large weeping willow tree. She’d sit against the trunk, feel the bark against her back and the wind brushing her face, and she would close her eyes and breathe in the smell of sunshine and just be. In her mind, she was safe. In a place of beauty and freedom that was hers and hers alone, no one could touch her.

She thinks about that place now - or tries to - as she watches you smile at someone that isn’t her. You laugh at something the other woman says, real, sincere, the way you laugh with Wilhemina in the evenings when you trade anecdotes in bed and she draws that beautiful sound out of you like coaxing butterflies from your belly.

You giggle and squirm, brushing her teasing fingers away from your bare stomach. “Mina,” you admonish playfully, capturing her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

Her expression is amused, dark eyes transfixed on her own fingertip as it traces the curve of your lips. “Yes, my darling?”

You melt under her ministrations, pressing another kiss to the tip of her finger. “Nothing, baby,” you murmur, eyelashes fluttering as the pad of her thumb brushes your cheekbone. She loves it when you're like this: soft and sleepy and so full of love that it shines from your eyes. You reach around her waist and pull her flush against you, bare skin and flesh melding until it feels like you are one person and have never been anything else.

She knew they were coming before she could feel them, your fingertips on her shoulder. They always start there, a warning, a sign, a whispered hello in the moonlight. Don’t be frightened, it’s just me, you seem to say. Can you feel my love? your heart will whisper. You’ll trace patterns on her skin, follow the curve until you reach the back of her neck. You’ll play with the strands of red hair you find there before slowly brushing your fingers down her spine. You’ll be slow and gentle - like you are enchanting a lioness who has shown you her belly and not a woman who is afraid of tenderness.

She doesn’t want to be scared of you. She wants to crawl into your heart and whisper poetry so that you might feel her love for you. She closes her eyes, imagines she can hear songbirds outside your window and melts against you, nuzzling the crook of your neck with her nose. She breathes you in just as your fingertips tease the back of her neck. You smell of sunshine.

Her body aches.

She watches, transfixed, as the woman reaches out and brushes your shoulder with the tips of her fingers. She can feel the cold creeping over her, passing over her skin and down her spine like morning dew clinging to blades of grass in the front lawn that you share.

She tries to conjure the wind, the flowers, the weeping willow tree but all she can see is you. She can’t look away - from you, from her, from the way you gaze almost adoringly at a woman that is beautiful and tall and normal. She does not have a crooked spine or a sharp tongue or hands that hurt more than they heal. She is not broken.

She raps her cane against the ground, one loud motion that claps around the room. It might as well be thunder. You and the woman both jump, heads swiveling in her direction. Wilhemina thinks she knows her but her mind lashes angrily, ocean waves slamming against the bow of a ship, and she can’t bother to remember her name. Her eyes brush past her - to you.

She wants to find the guilt in your eyes, to watch your pupils bloom wide like flower petals when you meet her gaze but all she can see is love and warmth. It sickens her, churns her gut, twists her insides until all she can feel is pain. She sneers. “Don’t you two have work to do?”

The woman offers a charming smile like she doesn’t know Venable at all. “Yes, of course, Ms. Venable. See you later, Y/N.” She winks at you and struts off down the hallway. Venable feels her blood boil but doesn’t give her the satisfaction of watching her leave. She is not worth her time, but you... you are worth all of it. But she is too angry to listen to the heart that loves you, too blinded by rage to realize that the look in your eyes is adoration and not contempt. The blood in her veins turns to ice. She looks at you and doesn’t recognize you at all.

Without a word, she turns and walks away.

The ride home is silent. She can feel you looking though, turning your head every so often to gaze at her when you think she’s not paying attention. She doesn’t know how to decipher your expression. She can’t tell the difference between the seasons, between the feelings pressed beneath her chest, between your heart and hers, much less the shadows painted on your beautiful face.

Your favorite song comes on the radio. You don’t even sing. You are probably thinking about her, she decides. That woman who must have snuck in when Wilhemina was happy and content and unaware, and stole you from her arms, from your bed, from the home that you built together brick by brick until it was a towering fortress in which she felt safe. She should have noticed, should have seen that the stars in your eyes were not for her at all. Not anymore. She should have realized that at some point, you had reached up and plucked them from the sky and replaced them with something entirely new.

Maybe you had finally seen them, all the things she had warned you about. Maybe one day you had woken up and seen the Wilhemina peeking out from within and been disgusted by her weakness, her vulnerability. Any moment now, you will turn to her with that pitying look in your eyes and explain, gently and with that tone of voice you reserve for those with less patience than you, that you are in love with someone else. You must be and that’s what the shadows must mean. They are your guilt put on display, an exhibit of black curtains and a moonless night sky and she is waiting for the day she arrives at your museum only to find it gone like you had never been there at all.

The thought makes her heart drop into her stomach. It annoys her, taunts her, reminds her that the ache in her chest is something she could have prevented if she had not let you in, if she had not allowed you to crawl inside her and make a home in her heart. Her gloves creak when she tightens her grip on the steering wheel. It echoes in the car, in the silence that you have made.

You will not break her. She is already broken.

You try to speak to her when you get home. She hasn’t looked at you since that moment in the atrium and she thinks maybe you have finally caught on. Or maybe you finally know what to say. She wonders if you have rehearsed this moment in your head, if the tides have finally turned and they are just now rushing in her direction to smash against her shore.

She stands at the counter, takes her gloves off one by one, and watches from the corner of her eye as you look at her and struggle to speak. A part of her takes joy in watching you flounder. A part of her wants you to squirm, to feel, to hurt. Just like her. The other part of her, the Wilhemina inside that bangs at the door and screams to be let out, only wants you to hold her. She hates it. Seethingly. With a ferocity she didn’t know she was capable of anymore after falling in love with you. She is broken, but she is not weak. She tells it to shut up and slams the door in its face.

“Mina?” Your voice comes from behind her. Not hesitant, but cautious. So at least you are aware of her ire. Good. You should be cautious. The Wilhemina inside reminds her that she could never hurt you, that it is useless to pretend otherwise. She locks the door and puts her hands over her ears so that the voice is muffled.

She raises an eyebrow, feigning indifference. “Is there something you need? Or have you finally worked up the courage to say what you so desperately need to say?”

You frown, eyebrows furrowing. “What?”

She tilts her head, annoyance clear in the downturned pull of her lips. “You’ve been sitting there like a daft moron for an hour. I was wondering if you’d finally grasped enough vocabulary in order to get on with it.” The Wilhemina inside flinches. You’re going to regret this, it says. She doesn’t hear it. She doesn’t want to.

“Get on with what?” You take a step closer, looking up into her face and studying her expression like you can figure out what's going on in her mind if she will only meet your eyes. She hates it. She hates that you can make her feel seen. She hates that she used to love it. That it used to make her feel safe. That once upon a time, she thought she could be someone. That she could be yours.

Her nostrils flare in annoyance. You are playing with her. She is just a pawn in your chess game, one you mean for her to lose. You want to make her say the words so you don’t have to. Coward, she thinks.

No, she’s not, the Wilhemina inside her says. The only coward here is you.

The thought chills her to the bone. The ice intensifies, freezing her heart solid like a stone in her chest. She can’t breathe, she can’t think. All she can feel is the weight of it sinking like an anchor. She turns her head to face you and looks into your eyes. God, how she loves you. A part of her melts. The tips of her fingers drip on the floor at your feet.

She can see it all now up close: the confusion, the despair, the worry gathering like storm clouds in your gaze. They can’t be real. You must have created them to fool her, to pull the wool over her eyes and lead her to believe that you are innocent. You have called upon the storm to wash away your sins, but Venable can see them still, washed up on the shore like seashells. The Wilhemina inside her can’t see them; she only sees your footprints in the sand as you walk away and she wants to chase after you, to melt in your arms and beg for forgiveness, but Venable rises up like the dragon buried underneath the mountain rubble, looks down her nose at you, and snarls. “I saw you today,” she says. She will not be fooled by the lie in your eyes.

You blink. “Saw me when?”

“Don’t play stupid,” she snaps. The Wilhemina inside her shrinks back. Don’t, please, it pleads. Venable turns her back on herself, on the weakness inside her. She pretends not to see when it cries.

You take a step towards her, hand reaching out like it alone can bridge the gap between you. She ignores how her stone cold heart clenches at the sight of it, at the memories those hands have created for her, the comfort that they have brought. She turns her nose up at it and moves away. “I hope she had something important to say. It looked like her head was full of hot air, but clearly looks can be deceiving.”

“What? Who are you talking about?” You stop trying to reach her finally and stand still and small in the middle of the room. You look so sad. Wilhemina swallows the lump in her throat and turns away.

“That woman you were speaking with,” she hisses, venom and poison laced within the words. “You two are certainly very familiar with each other.” Her mind conjures images in her head, things she would rather not see but that play on repeat until there is nothing else but them, them, them. Fingertips brushing your shoulder, a wink directed your way, a hand on the small of your back, your thigh, fingers sweeping hair away from your neck, lips against your skin, down, down-

“Valarie?”

She jerks like she’s been hit by a bolt of lightning. It is your storm. It has to be. “Is that her name?” she asks, her voice deathly quiet in the frozen tundra of your house. When did the cold spread so far? Was it touching you? Could you feel it?

“Baby-”

“Don’t,” she snaps.

You ignore her and look at her from beneath your eyelashes. “We’re just friends, Mina.”

She sniffs disdainfully. “I’m sure.” Her lips purse. A picture hangs on the wall she stands in front of. She looks at it and remembers the overcast Sunday morning she told you about the place she felt safest. You had pulled the comforter over your heads and she had whispered the details in your ear - the meadow, the flowers, the weeping willow tree - and you had listened and stroked your fingers down her bare back and it felt like she was telling you a secret and trusted you to keep it. One day not long after, you had given her the painting and she had looked at it and seen her happiness and sunshine depicted in brush strokes and splashes of color. You told her that she’d never have to go inside her mind to feel safe ever again, that she was never going to be safer than she was right here, in the home that you built together, with you. She had cried.

Tears well in her eyes, and she curses under her breath, wrangles the Wilhemina inside her back under control and turns her head to face you. She tries to conjure up the weeping willow tree, to picture it in her mind instead of the gentle way you had kissed her goodbye that morning, but the image only comes to her for a second before fizzling into dust and in its place is you.

That sweet smile you greet her with each day, sleepy and soft and just for her. How you rest your hands on her hips when you pass behind her to reach for your toothbrush, your gazes locking in the mirror and your eyes twinkling with mischief. Fingers brushing when you exchange cups of tea, fingers brushing when you reach out to turn the page of a book, fingers brushing as you walk down the driveway to your car, brushing, brushing, brushing.

She blinks, finds the love still staring back at her, patient and calm and she does not know anything anymore. She saw you with that woman. She heard your laugh, recognized the adoration on your face. She can’t be wrong. The ice builds and builds until it is a wall surrounding her heart. “Did you fuck her?”

You reel back as if she had slapped you, pain flashing across your face and Wilhemina trembles at the realization that she put it there. “What the hell are you talking about?”

She draws up to her full height and curls her lip and she pretends that you are just an employee at Kineros and that you are not the woman she loves and she does not hurt at all. “I saw you throwing yourself at her today - like a whore.” You’re wrong, the Wilhemina in her heart whispers, shrinking back, shaking and curled up in the dark corner of her mind she hasn’t seen since she was a child. You’re wrong, wrong, wrong.

“You can’t be serious,” you say, blinking up at her in disbelief. She ignores the tears welling in your eyes, the crack that shatters the ice around her heart at the sight of them, and arches an eyebrow, giving you the look she reserves for lowly employees too stupid to recognize her ire. You recognize it. Realization flashes across your face. You shake your head. “I’m not doing this, Mina,” you finally say. You blink and look away from her, trying to prevent the pain from showing on your face, but she can see it. She put it there.

“I can see that you’re hurting and that you’re in your head, but whatever you think I did, I didn’t. And you know that.” Your beautiful face pleads with her, your eyes large and wet and loving, but she refuses to give in, knowing that if she does, the ice around her heart will melt and she’ll feel everything all at once. She does not want to ache. Not like she did before you, not like she will after.

“You are a fool,” she hisses. You are the fool, it says.

You shake your head, wipe tears from your eyelids. You look like you might walk away, body turned toward the stairs, but you step towards her instead, so close that she can feel your warmth. It makes her body shudder. You search her gaze, looking so deep into her eyes that she thinks you are looking directly into the Wilhemina she tries to keep buried inside. “I love you,” you tell her. She hates that she believes you. “You own my heart and my soul and I know you know that I would never do that to you. Whatever’s going on up here -” you touch your fingers to her temple, warm and cold all at once, a direct link to the voices freezing her soul, “- whatever that voice is saying, it’s wrong,” you whisper. You reach down to place your hand over her chest. “Your heart knows me,” you pause, desperation in your eyes as they flicker back and forth between hers. “Don’t you?” Yes, the Whilemina inside whispers. I know you.

The warmth that had threaded through her being disappears the moment you drop your hands. She watches you walk away, wants to call out for you, to beg for mercy, to tell you that she is the fool and that she is sorry and that she loves you, loves you, loves you, but she doesn’t.

She tears her gaze away and looks down at her hands. They’re shaking.

That night, she climbs the stairs to your shared room and finds you already in bed, your back to the door. You don’t say a word and neither does she. She moves around the room with purpose, changing her clothes and brushing her hair free from its ponytail. She can’t help but watch you out of the corner of her eye. You are motionless, a still life in her bed. Your bed. Yours, together.

She crawls under the sheets next to you, turns off the bedroom light, rolls on her side and looks at you facing away from her. The distance between you is miniscule; she could reach out and touch you if she wanted, bridge the gap and pull your back against her chest. She raises her hand, reaches for you but does not touch. It lingers in the air between you, shaking and desperate. After a moment, it drops to the mattress. She closes her eyes and feels herself weep. She doesn't know how to fix herself.

When she opens her eyes again, she finds herself standing alone on a beach. The sky is overcast and grey, angry clouds forming on the horizon and wind coursing through her hair. Where are you? Her heart thunders in her chest. She tries to quell the panic but it rises and rises until it becomes a chokehold around her neck. It threatens to consume her.

“Y/N?” She looks down and notices a trail of footprints in the sand. They dance away from her, following the shoreline and circling back and around again. She knows they are yours, that they could belong to no one else. She has to find you.

She has to tell you that she loves you.

She puts her foot in a rivet in the sand, stands where you stood and imagines that you are with her, that you are laughing and your pinkies are interlocked in that way she knows makes you smile. And then she remembers that expression on your face when she asked about that woman, the tears in your eyes when she hurled a slur at you to make up for the pain that she alone inflicted on herself. She has to find you.

She has to tell you that she’s sorry.

“Y/N?” She calls your name again and again, listens to it bounce off the water as the waves lap at her bare feet. The footprints end where the sand bleeds into grass. She looks down at her feet, studies the area like she knows it well even though she doesn’t know it at all. Her heart whispers, pings, right there, and she looks up like she had known where you would be all along to find your silhouette standing at the top of a bluff overlooking the ocean. She knows that it's you, that it could be no one else.

You stand at the edge, looking out over the jagged rocks and thrashing waves below. “Y/N!” Your head swivels in her direction and you wave cheerfully down at her, shuffling too close to the brink for her liking. Her heart jumps into her throat. “You stay right there! Don’t you move, I mean it!” She doesn’t think you can hear her. She wonders if the words are leaving her mouth or if it’s just her soul sighing your name. She has to get to you.

She has to, she has to, she has to.

The trail up to the cliff looks different when she gets closer. Darker, full of tall, imposing trees and a treacherous climb she knows will hurt her back. She doesn’t care, doesn’t hesitate, just pushes past the first branch and marches on. Nothing will keep her from you. She thinks she can feel eyes watching her from the darkness between the trees, black beady eyes that disappear when she turns to look. They make her skin crawl, but she silences the warnings in her head and ignores them. They don’t matter. She clutches her cane and moves forward and prays that you are staying put.

Then the whispers start.

“You’re no good for her,” a voice murmurs into her ear and she startles and jerks back, glancing behind her to see a shadowy figure that closely resembles your father.

Wilhemina swallows the lump in her throat and looks away. “I know,” she says and continues on.

“We’ve talked about this, darling, stand up straight,” a familiar voice purrs from over her shoulder. She doesn’t look, doesn’t need to see to know who will be waiting there. “No one will love an invalid.”

“She loves me,” Wilhemina snaps, head straight forward, dark eyes fixed on the patch of light she can see up ahead. The sky. Safety. You.

A figure steps out of the tree line into Wilhemina’s path causing her to jerk to a halt. “Look what you did, twisting your fears and projecting them onto the one who loves you most,” the woman sing-songs, her tone playful and barbed like a rosebush. Valarie. Tall and beautiful Valarie. “She’d be happier with me, you know.”

Wilhemina looks into Valarie’s soulless black eyes and glares defiantly. “She is happy with me.”

Valarie chuckles, dancing and spinning around Wilhemina’s form as the other figures get closer. Surrounding her, crowding her, boxing her in like predators to weak prey. “She didn’t look happy last night, did she?” Valarie leans her chin on Wilhemina’s shoulder and whispers in her ear. “You made her cry.”

“You called her a whore,” your father says from behind her.

Her mother clicks her tongue disapprovingly, appearing in front of her and adjusting the collar of her shirt. “You accused her of infidelity, my dear.”

“I made a mistake,” she snaps.

“You seem to be making a lot of mistakes, Mina,” Valarie taunts.

Wilhemina’s blood runs cold. No one calls her that. No one but you. She shoves her mother out of the way and darts up the trail, her back screaming in protest. She can feel them following her, the wolves nipping at her heels, but she doesn’t stop.

“-could do better-”

“If only you were normal-”

“Maybe she’ll finally leave you and come to m-”

Their voices sound like they’re coming from the very trees themselves, winding through the branches and leaves and floating down like lightning bugs to settle in her ears.

“- a failure -”

“- never should have let you lea-”

“-fall in love with a cripple.”

“When you wake in the morning, she’ll be gone.”

“SHUT UP!” Her voice echoes into the forest and birds burst from the tree line in a cacophony of sound. When she opens her eyes, the figures are gone and the voices are silent.

She finds herself standing at the edge of the forest and feels her eyes well with tears as she looks upon her meadow. Sunlit and beautiful, full of flowers in bloom and honeybees and songbirds. The wind nuzzles her cheek as if greeting an old friend. The horrors of the forest melt from her weary bones and she feels at peace. A part of her wants to stay here where it is safe, where she is safe, but her heart urges her onwards. What is a life of safety if you aren’t in it?

Her willow tree stands tall and proud in the center of the clearing and behind it, overlooking the ocean, is you.

“Y/N!” She breathes a sigh of relief to see you standing where she left you.

You turn to face her and smile, soft and sweet and just for her. “Hi, baby,” you say. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to take you home, sweetheart,” she murmurs, looking imploringly into your eyes.

You frown. “I don’t have a home, Mina. You don’t want me anymore, remember?” You take a step back from her, toward the cliff’s edge and she follows you, hands reaching out as if she could grab you from where she stands.

“Wait,” she pleads. “You do have a home. It’s with me.”

You cock your head. “It used to be,” you state. Like it is a fact. Like you have always known it to be so. Her heart aches.

“Please, Y/N. Step away from the edge.” Her voice is hard, lined with barbs but not directed at you. Only to herself. She wants them to hurt, to sting, to make her hiss in pain. She wants to feel anything other than this ache.

You giggle softly, familiar and lovely, the sound that never fails to make her head spin, but she doesn’t hear the joy in it now. It sounds haunted. "I know your heart,” you say, taking another step back as she steps forward. You meet her eyes. “Do you know mine?”

She can only watch in horror as your foot lands on empty air. You tip backwards - and then you fall.

Wilhemina screams.

She gasps and shoots up in bed causing her back to protest but she can barely feel it over the throbbing in her chest. She moans like a wounded animal, leaning over and curling into herself like it will muffle the pain, like she can smother it so she won’t have to feel anything. She clutches her hair and pulls at the strands as if physically capable of plucking the image of you falling out of her head.

My fault, my fault, I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry, I know your heart, I promise, I know it.

She doesn’t realize she’s murmuring out loud until she hears your voice in her ear, breaking through the mantra like a siren song. “Shh, baby. I’m right here, Mina. It’s okay.”

Her eyes snap open and she turns to seek out your eyes. She finds them instantly, warm and loving and tender. They’re shining, real and alive, and her own flood with fresh tears at the sight of them. Her voice comes out in a broken whisper that scratches her throat, “Y/N?”

“I’m right here, baby. Everything’s okay.” You reach out a hand as if to touch her but hover right before it makes contact with her skin. “Can I touch you?”

Wilhemina manages to nod, her eyes not leaving you for a second as you reach forward and brush her tears away with your thumb. They fall faster than you can wipe them away, but you try. You always try for her. She feels your other hand cup the back of her head before you lean forward and press your foreheads together in the way you always do when you comfort her. Your noses brush. “It was just a nightmare, baby,” you murmur, gazing into her eyes, deep pools with shadows that reflect the terrors she had seen. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She can only stare at you in disbelief, tear tracks trailing paths down her cheeks. Once she had felt nothing at all, now she feels too much. The ice around her heart has shattered into a million tiny pieces and the only evidence that it still lies within is the persistent ache beneath her ribcage. She doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t know where to start. She called you names. She doubted your love for her. She hurt you. A tinge runs down her spine. A muffled sob presses against her closed mouth and she nudges into you, brushing her trembling tear-stained lips against your own.

She feels your hand on her spine, the warmth of it soothing the trembling ache of her body. Your lips press against her forehead, long and hard like you want to seep all of your love into her skin. “I know, baby. Whatever you can’t say, I already know.” Your hand brushes a strand of hair back from her eyes. You cup her cheek in your palm, press a kiss to it followed by the other. Then one to each of her eyelids. You peck the tip of her nose before capturing her lips with your own. She gasps into your mouth, passes her tongue between your lips and tastes the saltiness of her own tears. When you pull away, your eyes are shining. You are brighter than the sun. “I love you and I’m not leaving you. Not now, not ever,” you say and she believes you. God, she believes you.

You settle back into the pillows and gently pull her with you, tucking her into your arms where she is safe, safe, safe. The shadows in her mind disappear. She doesn’t even remember what they said. Only that they were wrong.

She places her ear over your heart and listens to it beat. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. It soothes her own into submission and she melts into you, boneless and spent. Your fingers appear at her shoulder just as they always do and the familiarity of it coaxes a new wave of tears from her closed eyelids. Can you feel my love? your heart asks. “Yes, I can,” she whispers. Your fingertips trace the curve of her shoulder to the back of her neck. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” she manages to say around the lump in her throat.

“I know you didn’t mean it,” you soothe, brushing your fingers into her hair, down her neck and back again. “I know you love me.”

Wilhemina bites the inside of her cheek. She doesn’t want to cry anymore, but she doesn’t know what else to do. She doesn’t deserve your love, your patience, your kindness, your beautiful heart. She is broken and you deserve better than her. You deserve more from life than just picking up her shattered pieces.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” you say, interrupting her thoughts. She blinks. Had she been speaking out loud or did you just live inside her head? “Picking up your pieces is not a chore. It is a privilege.” Your finger traces a line from her neck to the top of her spine. She tilts her head to look up at you. She can barely see your face in the darkness of your bedroom, but your eyes are on fire. “You are not broken, baby. You are a songbird and I’m going to prove to you that you can fly.” She presses her face into the crook of your neck and cries.

As your hand trails down her back, gentle and revering like you are enchanting a lioness that has shown you her belly and not a woman who is afraid of tenderness, you start to sing. Your voice soothes her soul, wraps around her like a comforting blanket, and warms her shivering body until it no longer feels like ice. She recognizes the song. It’s your favorite, the one she’s heard you sing a thousand times. The words piece together from her memories, from morning showers before work, from those nights you spend swaying to the sound of it in the kitchen, from bits of it sung under your breath as you walk side by side, your hands brushing, your pinkies intertwining. Wilhemina buries her face in your chest and realizes that you had been singing about her all along. God, how she loves you.

She does not conjure up her meadow or the wild flowers or the weeping willow tree. She does not think of the wind on her face or the bark against her back. She breathes in the smell of sunshine, feels your fingers stroke her spine, and does not think of anything at all. She is exactly where she wants to be.

“And the songbirds are singing,

Like they know the score

And I love you, I love you, I love you

Like never before.”

Tag List: @supremeinlilac @lovelypeasantjellyfish @angelxsarahp

#wilhemina venable x reader #sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable #sarah paulson #american horror story #american horror story apocalypse #ahs fic #wilhemina venable imagine #sarah paulson imagine #ahs imagine #venable x reader #wilhemina x reader #angst fic #wlw imagine #wlw fic #romance fic

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vegalocity · 3 years

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(I’m probably gonna send you a few of these so brace yourself) Hugs #35. Hunter experiences his first ever cuddle pile when he hangs out with Luz and Her friends. - Pixel Anon

affection meme

35. cuddle pile

Pixel (adnd basically anyone lol) send me as much as you want, my computer is busted rn and i can't draw writing is all i've got.

sooo you wanted like a shitton of words about Hunter being touch starved yeah? Good here's the Extended Friend Group (Extended to include the Former Detention Kids) having a sleepover

Luz called him touch starved. He thought the idea was ridiculous when she'd first said it; as people touched him all the time, He had the scars to prove that people touched him all the time.

But when he'd come down the stairs of the Owl House to see her and her friends (and girlfriend) spread out along the sleeping bags and cushions, and the girl with the glasses gently placed a hand on his upper arm to keep him from bumping into her as she called back to the others that she was going to go check on the Moon Lillies Eda had let her keep here, and it felt like lightning across his skin. But like... good lightning? It made him jolt and gooseflesh rose up on his skin but it wasn't unpleasant. It felt nice... Like... really nice.

The faintest whisper of her fluffy hair brushed his shoulder as she passed him and his heart was pounding in his chest. He didn't even remember the girl's name and for a moment he was sincerely convinced he'd fallen in love with her. The moment passed and he'd recovered from his temporary insanity, but the memory remained.

Luz called him over, claiming the lot of them were having a sleepover tonight, and if he wanted to join he was welcome.

'Lot of them' was at the moment Luz, King, her friend with the glasses, a younger boy, her girlfriend, a girl with her hair tied up in a bramble scrunchy, a taller boy whom towered over him, and a four legged demon whom also wore glasses.

He only joined because he had nothing better to do. He was introduced to her extended friend group (those being Viney, Jorbo, and Barkus) Luz going on to the others he didn't remember the names of with 'and you already remember the rest of these guys'

He sat apart from the others and avoided eye contact with the glasses girl (Willow, as Luz called her upon her return) wondering idly if as a plant person she'd somehow doused herself with some sort of plant pheromone to make all boys make fools of themselves around her, but then again, Jorbo Barkus and the younger boy (Gus as he'd spoken in third person for a but while telling a story) all seemed to be unaffected.

Then Jorbo slung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer in one arm, Barkus under his other and claimed loudly that 'the guys get to choose the game' and Hunter's brain stopped working altogether until He let him go to insist that Gus doesn't count as 'the guys' because he always sides with Luz and Willow on games anyway. And for another very stupid very insane moment he'd convinced himself he'd fallen in love again.

Though this time he'd barely had a moment to recover from his temporary bout of insanity as the two began to bicker before Barkus sighed and placed a paw on his knee in solidarity and he was sent reeling again.

This kept happening on and off all day, someone would touch him, and his insides would positively lurch and he'd fell at once like he both needed to get as far away as possible, and lean into whatever the touch was and cling to whomever was providing it. But thankfully after those first two his brain had stopped taking the exact wrong conclusions about his reactions, so he'd stopped having to talk himself down from the worry that Luz's friends were all sirens and he was falling for their trap.

But it did mean he was now acutely aware of the lot of them as they continued about their games. Amity and Luz were play acting a scene and Amity dramatically fell backward, her upper half and head resting for only a brief moment in his lap and his knees felt like jelly for almost a full hour afterward.

Gus dramatically leaped in his direction and out of reflex Hunter caught him, and he... didn't want to let go. He was able to get away with carrying Gus around for a little bit, as there were no complaints from him at least, but he let the kid drop before it got suspicious.

Viney pulled him aside and while he was getting used to people touching his arms quickly, he was NOT used to another person's hot breath on his skin as she whispered a plan to prank the others into his ear.

King was perched on his shoulders for the longest time after he'd carried Gus around for a bit, insisting that if anyone deserved to have a personal chauffer it was him. He made sure to play up how annoyed he was, but the warm fur on the back of his neck was comforting.

But Luz, Oh... Luz was the worst. She already knew his reactions to being touched before going into this, so she made sure to do it as much as possible. sitting herself right next to him and swaying side to side so sometimes she'd brush up against Amity, and sometimes brush up against him, and she was single handedly the reason why he was getting used to people touching his arms.

But then she kept upping the game. Dramatically insisting that He was too cool for this or that dumb game that she clearly just wanted him to agree to play, putting a hand on his shoulder and pressing her cheek to his, and wathcing his brain promptly shut off as he reeled over how squishy her cheek was against his. sitting o the couch as he sat on the floor, and grabbing his head, tilting him back so that his head was essentially in her lap and smiling like the cat that ate the screamerfly at his reaction as she told him something or another he suddenly couldn't pay attention to. She even got Eda involved when she appeared briefly downstairs! She called in some sort of 'owe' and Eda pulled him aside, looking put upon and sighing.

And he didn't almost cry when the Owl Lady wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him to her chest. He didn't. Her gem dug into his forehead and her nails were long and sharp as she gently brushed them through his hair, and he'd somehow never felt so protected in all of his life, the downy feeling of feathers that still clung to her dress and the soft silver hair that brushed against him in odd places, and he only put his arms around her middle and squeezed back because it was the polite thing to do. Her chin brushed the crown of his head and-.... he just didn't know he was allergic to feathers until then, okay? It just also happened to feel really really good and he didn't want to let go. That was unrelated.

Hours had passed, he'd been shocked with physical affection enough times today that he could barely remember what they'd been doing the entire night, his memory only clinging to those moments where his brain had been so thoroughly flooded with endorphins that the rest of the night was a blur.

And he HAD to go back to is room. He wouldn't be able to sleep at all in the little 'cuddle puddle' Luz and the others had arranged. If he was so distracted by which body parts were in contact with other body parts sleep would elude him entirely, and sure he used to rarely sleep at all, but that was by choice back then!

But he-

He couldn't detangle himself.

Willow used his stomach as a pillow, he watched her head rise and fall with his breaths and felt the whisper of her fluffy hair against the smallest sliver of skin where his shirt had ridden up a bit. Gus and King were curled up to one side, Gus using his shoulder as a cushion and King beside his head. Viney had grabbed his arm in her sleep and clung to it like a stuffed animal. Barkus curled up in the space between his legs and Jerbo was using HIM as a pillow. if he even moved either of his legs one or both of them would be disturbed.

And Luz of course was curled up on his other side. a hand thrown across his shoulders and breathing softly into his neck. Amity was cuddled up behind her with her arms on her waist, and she was using his other arm as her own pillow.

He was effectively buried under the entire sleepover.

The pressure of others resting on top of and near him, the softness, the warmth, he didn't even need a blanket for all the heat the other bodies were providing. A shiver crawled up his spine as Luz hummed in her sleep and he could feel it in his chest as she did so. and Hunter had to concede defeat because this felt too damn good to even want to try and pull away.

Eda walked in about an hour after to a silent living room save for periodic snoring, she nursed a mug of Apple blood as she inspected the effective dogpile atop of the former Golden Guard.

Wow, it was days like this where it was really damn obvious how young the kid was. She could see even from here the freshly drying tear tracks on the boy's face, all that from just some cuddling? Sure Eda wasn't the best with handling physical affection either but she hadn't cried from something like that.... ever. (though if they managed to save Raine from whatever it was Belos did to them Eda couldn't be certain that that record would keep)

When Luz had approached her about their newest 'house guest' and insisted that Hunter needed a social circle, and probably just needed affection after living most of his life under Belos' thumb, Eda had assumed that would make him cagey and aggressive at the idea of being treated softly. But... eh... She supposed people always had a tendency to surprise you.

"Gettin' soft Owl Lady..." She muttered to herself as she approached the top of the cuddle pile and placed a hand on the boy's forehead, moving just slightly to comb some of his hair from his face. Hunter let out a quiet whimper but didn't stir. She watched as a sleepy smile lit up the boy's face.

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#The Owl House #The Golden Guard #OH Hunter #Luz Noceda #Willow Park #Agustus poter #King Clawthorne #Amity Blight #Edalyn Clawthorne #OH Viney #OH Jerbo #OH Barkus #vega writes stories too #affection meme #letters to vega #Genfic but if you want to see any of the 'Hunter freaks out at someone being affectionate even unintentionally' moments as pre-ship #i won't stop you

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yellowsuitcase · 4 years

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Oblivious - Part 1 // Draco Malfoy

A/N: This took several days to write, I wrote one and a half other imagines before finishing this. And it’s only the first part of three! I hope you enjoy it and yes I know Fred and George would’ve left Hogwarts by now, but let’s pretend they didn’t ;) Also, to the people who’ve requested imagines, please know I’m working diligently to get them completed, I’ve been very busy lately with school as well as redoing my bedroom. But keep looking forward to them, they’re coming I promise.

Summary: Half Blood Prince era. Draco’s been sneaking away to work on fixing the vanishing cabinet. But his muggle-born Gryffindor girlfriend Y/N has been picking up on his suspicious disappearances. During their trip to Hogsmeade, something unexpected occurs.

Warning(s): SPOILERS!! Swearing, making out

Word Count: 4.2k

Part 2

Y/N skipped through the entrance to the courtyard, singing, “He was a skater boy, she said see you later, boy. He wasn’t good enough for her,” at the top of her lungs, drawing quite a few puzzled stares her way. Draco, her boyfriend, reluctantly followed behind her, his face turning crimson.

“Y/N! Y/N, please stop, people are looking,” he pleaded with her.

“Tough crowd, tough crowd,” Y/N mused, “How about, life is a highwaayy, and I wanna ride it all night long!”

People began to laugh at the Gryffindor’s performance. Draco, however, was becoming more embarrassed by the second. “Love, please, enough with the muggle songs.”

“What? You don’t like my singing, is that it?” Y/N asked while she sat down at the base of their favorite tree.

“You know I adore everything about you, just not the muggle music. What is a highway anyway?”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? Do you ever pay any attention in muggle studies?”

Draco gave her a sheepish grin while he rubbed the back of his neck. Y/N swatted his arm lightly with her roll of parchment she’d taken out of her school bag. “Speaking of muggle studies, I have a 25-inch essay to write. Professor Burbage wants us to compare and contrast an average muggle’s day and an average wizard’s.”

“Well, that ought to be easy, your mum and dad are muggles.”

“It’s still 25 inches, Draco, that’s quite a lot,” Y/N said exasperatedly. She huffed as she unrolled her parchment and got to work; she already had 18 inches done.

Draco admired her as she wrote. The fluffy red quill in her hand bounced with the movements of her wrist as she jotted down a sentence. She was squinting her eyes, trying to block out the sun. Her little nose was scrunched up as well as her forehead.

She was so effortlessly beautiful. The littlest things about her were the things Draco liked the most, like the way her hair framed her face, some loose strands falling from behind her ear, and shining in the sun. Or the way she rubs her eyes with both fists after yawning.

“You’re cute when you’re focused,” Draco said.

Y/N gave him a fake annoyed glare. “Well, you’re making it hard for me to focus,” she mumbled under her breath, turning her attention back to her essay while biting her lip to keep from smiling.

Draco smirked, some of his teeth showing, “Hard to focus, huh? Am I that sexy?” he asked while wiggling his eyebrows. He received a quick slap on his chest.

“Shut up! Oh my god,” Y/N said. Draco complied with her wishes and simply gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before rising to his feet.

Y/N looked up at him, puzzled. “Where are you going?”

“I just want to get to class a bit early today. I’ll see you in Dark Arts class.”

Y/N watched as the blonde boy walked away. She thought it was quite peculiar for him to want to get to class early. Usually, he was begging her to stay with him and be a few minutes late. She tried to shrug it off; perhaps he just wanted to ask his professor a question. Y/N picked up her quill and once again began to write, pushing away the thoughts of what her boyfriend was up to.

-----------

“Perhaps Draco is just putting forth more effort into learning Herbology. The whomping willow is quite a fascinating plant.”

“Luna, I love you but come on. You can’t blame me for being a little suspicious. I mean, Herbology and Draco are like Filch and magic,” Y/N said as she and Luna walked to their next class, “it’s never going to work.”

Luna nodded softly. “It’s a shame Filch can’t do magic. It’s so wonderful.”

“He doesn’t deserve it, he would use an unforgivable curse on a student in a heartbeat, he would.”

Y/N spared a quick glance behind her. She felt as though she was being watched. Sure enough, when her head spun around, she saw Draco. He smiled as he briskly caught up to her and Luna. He wrapped his arms around her waist and gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek. Y/N squirmed; she didn’t like people touching her neck.

Before she left to go to her own class, Luna asked, “Are you going to Hogsmeade tomorrow, Y/N?”

Y/N had barely remembered that tomorrow was a Hogsmeade weekend. She tilted her head to look at Draco. “Are you going?”

Draco avoided eye contact with Y/N, but he nodded nonetheless. She turned back to Luna. “I wouldn’t miss our trip to Honeydukes now, would I?”

Luna smiled, “I don’t know, you might one day.” She shifted her bag onto her shoulder. “See you then. Goodbye, Y/N. Goodbye, Draco.”

When Luna was out of earshot, Y/N wiggled out of Draco’s arms.

“Do you not want to go to Hogsmeade? You don’t have to if you wouldn’t like to.”

Draco shook his head vehemently. “No, no, I’ll go. We can get butterbeer together like we always do. Now let’s get going, I suspect Snape will take 10 points from Gryffindor if you’re late.” The pair headed off to class.

————-

Draco woke up the next morning with an uneasy feeling in his gut. Usually, his trips to Hogsmeade were enjoyable, but he knew this one would be anything but.

He’d been given the dreadful task of murdering his headmaster, Dumbledore. He knew he was never gonna be able to do it face to face, so he’d opted for a more indirect option. He and his mother made a trip to Borgin and Burkes early that year and purchased the Opal Necklace. It was reported to have killed nineteen muggles to date.

He glanced over to his nightstand. The necklace was wrapped in packing paper inside the bottom drawer. His stomach churned when he remembered his plan. He’d have to execute it right under Y/N’s nose. He felt so vile. Since this school year had started, he’d been keeping secrets from her.

They loved to sit in the courtyard under their tree, often Y/N would fall asleep on his shoulder, and Draco always felt terrible when he had to maneuver her to the grass so he could sneak away to the Room of Requirement. But there’d be consequences if he failed to fix the vanishing cabinet, and he wasn’t about to waste any free time he had. And if that meant keeping secrets and slipping away from his girlfriend, then that’s what he had to do.

“Goyle, what time is it?” Draco asked.

“Uhh bout half-past nine. Why?”

“Shit,” he muttered. He was already thirty minutes late for breakfast. Y/N would start to worry if he didn’t show up soon. Mentally preparing himself for the day ahead, he shoved his blanket off and swung his legs to the side of his bed. He opted for his classic black suit. He made sure to stuff the necklace, still wrapped, into the inner pocket of his jacket.

“What’s that, Malfoy?”

Draco snapped his head to glare at Crabbe. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he spat with an aggrieved look upon his face. He put on his shoes and strode out of the Slytherin dorms. Soon enough, he arrived at the Great Hall. His eyes located Y/N’s instantly. They were filled with worry, but relief overtook them when they met Dracos. She beckoned him over with a wave of her hand.

Once he sat down, he was engulfed in a tight hug.

“Whoa there darling, is everything alright?” he asked.

“I’m just excited, it’s been a while since the last Hogsmeade weekend. I’m craving butterbeer, aren’t you?” she asked, her eyes danced animatedly with anticipation.

Draco smiled, “You’re too cute, you are,” he said before he kissed her rosy cheek.

“Are you going out dressed like that? You know it’ll be snowy in Hogsmeade,” Y/N asked. She was dressed in a maroon sweater and black jeans; to her left, she had laid her coat and her Gryffindor scarf and hat.

“I’ll be sure to fetch my coat before we leave,” he assured her.

“You’d better go now, we leave for Hogsmeade in fifteen minutes,” said Luna, making Draco aware of her presence. He heeded her words and stood up from the table.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

Draco bit his lip. He really didn’t think he could stomach anything at the moment, but he didn’t want to upset Y/N.

“I’ll save room for butterbeer. Meet me outside?” he asked. She nodded despite the reluctant look on her face. Draco didn’t stay for a moment longer. He turned on his heel and hurried off to his common room.

“He seems troubled,” Luna stated.

“I’m glad you’ve noticed it as well. The bags under his eyes get darker every day, it seems.”

“Perhaps he should brew a sleeping draught potion.”

“I don’t think he’d like the idea of sleeping for so long. He’s definitely racing the clock, trying to complete something. The question is what,” Y/N wondered aloud, her face twisted in thought.

"I've seen him coming out of the Room of Requirement. Maybe he's been doing something in there," Luna suggested.

"You have? When? Did he look-," Y/N was interrupted by a voice behind her.

“You coming to Hogsmeade, Y/N?” When she turned around, Hermione was standing there, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, I am. Why?”

“Is Draco coming with you?” she asked.

“Yes, but why does that matter to you? I thought you didn’t like him,” Y/N said in a bit of an accusatory tone. What did it matter to Hermione whether or not Draco was going to Hogsmeade?

Hermione looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh, uh, no reason. Just curious is all. See you there then.” Then she ran off, presumably to find Ron and Harry.

“What is going on around here?” Y/N asked nobody in particular.

“There are so many things taking place at once, but I think we all find out about them one way or another,” Luna said.

“I hope so.”

-----------

Draco did his best to smile while he and Y/N strolled through Hogsmeade. It hardly worked, though. She was beaming with joy, and he was melancholy. All he could think about was the task ahead of him. His plan was to sneak away from Y/N in the Three Broomsticks and find Madam Rosmerta. He would then imperio her to deliver the necklace to Dumbledore.

It wasn’t like he wanted to cast an unforgivable curse, but there wouldn’t be any other way to get the package to Dumbledore without raising suspicion. He had to do this.

“Where do you want to go first?” Y/N asked, pulling Draco out of his thoughts.

“Wherever you’d like to go, love,” he replied, not missing a beat.

She sighed, “I asked you where you want to go. Pick a place.”

Draco smirked, “How about the Shrieking Shack,” he said in a naughty tone.

“Draco,” she said in a condescending tone. “You know we’re not allowed in there.”

“Yes, but we could sneak in.”

Y/N shook her head, “Draco, do you really want to have detention tomorrow?”

“Oh, don’t be such a party pooper. Don’t you wonder what’s inside it?”

“Nope,” she said matter of factly.

“You’re telling me you’re not even the slightest bit curious?”

“Not at all.”

“Oh, I see now, you’re scared of it. You’re scared of a shack.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. End of discussion,” Draco said.

“End of discussion? You don’t just get to end our conversation,” Y/N yelled. But before she could give her boyfriend a flick on the head, he began to run. “Hey! Don’t you run from me, Malfoy!”

He turned his head to see her start to chase after him. She was giggling as she was jogging, her smile brighter than the fresh snow on the ground. Draco loved her smile.

He led her through twists and turns, nearly running into several people before he found his destination. He slowly came to a stop and waited for Y/N to catch up. He grabbed her hand and yanked her to his chest when she caught up. She squealed when he did this.

“How are you so fit? I nearly died just then,” Y/N said, bent over and panting.

Draco laughed, “You alright there, darling?”

She glared at him, “Where did you take us, anyway?” She answered her own question when she took her hands off her knees and looked around. She spotted the shack instantly.

“Draco, I don't know what you’re thinking, but I’m not going in there.”

“Oh come on, don’t be such a wuss,” he said while grabbing her hand. She reluctantly followed him as he went over to the fence. He put his hands on the top rail and lifted his right leg to plant his foot on the middle one. He gathered his strength and pushed himself up and over the fence. Once on the other side, he brushed himself off and turned to face Y/N.

“Right. Your turn now, love.”

“You made it look so easy,” she grumbled. But she put her hands on the fence anyway. She tried to copy what she’d seen Draco do, but when she tried, she found she didn’t have the strength.

“You got it, just swing your legs over,” Draco instructed.

Y/N nodded and attempted to do what he said. She stood on the bottom rail and grasped the top in her hands. Unsure of herself, she looked at Draco.

“Come on, hop on over.”

She nodded and climbed to the top of the fence. She bent her arms and launched herself over the wooden rails. Y/N realized halfway through the jump that things were about to end badly. Draco wasn’t able to move fast enough and could only watch as her right foot twisted when she landed.

She let out a yelp and fell to the snowy ground. Draco rushed over to her and began to take off her boot.

“I’ve sprained it. I know I have,” she said, gritting her teeth in pain.

Draco ran his hands through his hair. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N. I should’ve just taken you to get butterbeer.”

“We still can, I think you’ll need to carry me though,” she said while chuckling.

Draco momentarily looked away from her swollen ankle to look at her face. Somehow, despite the pain she must’ve been in, she was smiling at him.

“You never fail to amaze me, you know that?” he asked her.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

Before Draco could answer, his attention was stolen by two redheads.

“Y/N? Is that you? What’s Malfoy done to you?” Fred Weasley called out.

“Yeah, Malfoy, what’d you do to her?” George chimed in.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “What do you think they’re doing here?” she asked her boyfriend.

“I don’t know, and frankly, I don’t care.”

Fred and George had made their way to the couple. “What’s happened?” George asked.

“Well, I tried to jump the fence, and it didn’t go so well,” Y/N chuckled.

The twins laughed along with her. “That does sound like something you’d do,” Fred remarked.

“Yes, yes, it’s all very funny, but she’s got a sprained ankle by the looks of it,” Draco said, interrupting the laughter to remind them of the situation at hand. He reached under Y/N’s arms and gently helped her to her feet. She winced when she had to put pressure on her ankle. Draco felt guilt pool in his stomach. He went to jump back over the fence but was stopped short.

“Malfoy, why don’t you lift her up from that side,” said Fred.

“And then we can help her over,” George finished.

“Yeah, that’ll be easier,” Y/N agreed. She looked at Draco to see if he, too, thought the same. He nodded and gripped her hips.

“1...2...3!” He lifted her up and sat her atop the highest rail. He held her steady as the twins helped maneuver her legs to the other side. They then helped her down, being careful not to let her put pressure on her injured foot.

Draco hastily climbed up the fence and hopped down, “I can take it from here,” he said sternly. He crouched down in front of Y/N, allowing her to climb onto his back. Once he knew she was secure, he straightened his legs and started walking.

Y/N turned her head, “Thank you guys!” she called to the twins.

“You could’ve thanked them, you know, you would’ve had a hell of a time getting me over that fence without them.”

Draco scoffed. “I would’ve managed just fine without the Weasleys.”

His girlfriend sighed. “I know you don’t like them, but geez, can’t you swallow your pride for one second?”

Draco didn’t reply, opting to remain silent as he trudged back to Hogsmeade.

-------

The pair sat inside the Three Broomsticks, now toasty warm and anxiously awaiting what was to come. For Y/N, it was butterbeer, but for Draco, it was something much less enticing.

The feeling of the package against his breast made his heart race. He wished he could’ve just enjoyed a drink with his lover, but bigger things were expected of him that day. His eyes hardly left Madam Rosmerta. He was tracking her movements, waiting for the perfect moment to present itself.

“And so I told her that I had no idea what she was talking about. I mean, did she seriously expect me to confess to that? But anyway after that she-,” Y/N stopped talking when she realized the boy sitting across from her was paying absolutely no attention to her story.

She reached for his hand. “Draco, what’s wrong? Something’s bothering you, I can see it on your face.”

He shook his head, dismissively. “I’m fine, what were you saying?”

Y/N frowned. “Nothing important. But uhm, anyway, what are you doing tomorrow? Maybe we could borrow some broomsticks from Madam Hooch and fly around the pitch,” she suggested. But Draco still wasn’t attentive to her words. He wasn’t even looking at her.

“I’ll be right back, don’t move,” he said, suddenly jumping to his feet. He strode away from their table without looking back. Y/N felt her heart sink. Why wasn’t he paying attention to her?

She decided to pass the time by tracing her finger on the cracks and lines embedded in the wooden table. She grew increasingly bored the longer Draco was absent. Until she heard a familiar voice. Upon raising her head, she saw the trio. Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They sat at the table behind her. She decided to turn around and make conversation as Draco still hadn’t returned.

“Hi, guys, what’s up?”

“Oh, hey Y/N. Nothing much, how about you?” Ron asked.

“Oh, you know, not much, just spraining ankles,” she said sarcastically.

Ron looked at her with a puzzled expression. His eyes drifted to her foot. “Blimey, Y/N, what did you do?”

Hermione took notice as well. “Are you alright? Should I fetch a professor?”

“No, no, that’s alright, it’s only a sprain. Madam Pomfrey will be able to fix it right up when I return. Thank you, though,” she smiled.

“How’d you manage to sprain it, though?” Harry inquired.

“Oh well, long story short, I tried to jump a fence, and it didn’t end so well,” Y/N said with a slight chuckle. “Actually, Ron, your brothers helped Draco get me back over the fence.”

Ron smiled, “Glad to hear it,” after he spoke, his facial expression changed to one of confusion.

“You mentioned Draco, where is he?”

Y/N sighed and did a once-over of the pub. “He ran off a little while ago, I’ve got no idea where he is. He said he’d be right back.”

Hermione looked at her sympathetically. “He’ll be back...probably.”

“Oh! There he is,” Ron said. Y/N turned her head back around to see Draco emerging from around the corner. He and Harry made eye contact. They stared at each other for a few seconds before Draco rushed over to Y/N.

“Let’s go, I want to stop at Dervish and Banges,” he said while reaching behind her back and underneath her knees.

“What? We haven’t even gotten our butterbeer. Draco put me down. Put me down!”

Draco glared at her, fury in his eyes. “Don’t make a scene,” he snapped. This shut Y/N right up. She didn’t protest when he carried her out of the pub. He didn’t stop walking until he reached a bench in an empty passageway. He sat her down first and then took the spot next to her.

“What was that about? What’s going on, Draco?” Y/N asked; she was fed up.

Draco panicked. He didn’t have a lie prepared, but he knew he couldn’t get away with not answering her. Not anymore.

He said the first thing that came to mind. “It’s my dad. He’s been bothering me a lot lately.”

This was true. Draco’s dad had been pestering him with multiple owls a day, always asking for updates on the cabinet. It was quite frankly driving him mad.

“He keeps sending me owls, he won’t leave me alone,” Y/N held his hand and ran her thumb up and down the top of it. “I left you at the table so I could apparate home. He was expecting me.”

She stopped her soothing motion. “You can apparate that far!? Successfully?” she asked, shocked at her boyfriend’s abilities.

He nodded. “My father requested Professor Twycross give me private lessons. That’s where I’ve been running off to lately.”

Draco felt bile rise in his throat. He hated lying to Y/N, but it had to be done. He couldn’t get her involved in his death eater business. It would be better for both of them if she remained oblivious.

“Well, I’m glad you finally told me. I’ll be here if you ever want to rant about him. He sure has been causing you a lot of stress lately, hasn’t he?”

He nodded and pressed a soft kiss to her temple. Oh, how he wished he could tell her. “Thank you, love. I appreciate that.”

She smiled and went in for a kiss. He passionately kissed her back. He wanted to focus his energy on her now, to try to make up for all the times he’d neglected her.

Draco held her face with one hand while the other traveled to her hip. Without warning, he squeezed it, causing Y/N to yelp and thus open her mouth, which allowed Draco to sneak his tongue inside. He let out a groan, running his fingers through her hair and gripping it slightly.

They were interrupted by the sound of nearby laughter. Draco reluctantly pulled away; he knew how Y/N felt about kissing in public. She gave him a soft smile, her face flushed, and her lips swollen.

“I can’t believe you,” she giggled. He grinned and gave her another kiss, this one just a quick peck.

“I love you, you know,” he said.

She hummed happily. “I do know. And I love you too, Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco laughed and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, prompting Y/N to push him away playfully. “Stopppp,” she whined.

“Alright, alright. I think it’s about time we head back to Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey needs to fix my angel’s ankle.”

“That she does,” Y/N said. She raised her arms and made grabby hands at Draco as he stood up. He laughed at her antics.

“Up,” she demanded. He complied and lifted her into his arms. She immediately nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck and sighed contently.

He carried her all the way out of Hogsmeade and halfway through the path to Hogwarts before it happened. About ten yards in front of them, Katie Bell rose into the air. Her mouth was wide open as if something was sucking the breath out of her. Draco felt his heart stop. Y/N noticed he’d stopped walking, and she lifted her head to look at him. He looked terrified. She followed his gaze just in time to see Katie fall to the ground. She gasped, and her eyes widened; she didn’t believe what she saw.

“Draco, we have to see what’s going on, take us over there,” she said.

But Draco had already seen what had caused Katie to float twenty feet in the air. The necklace. It was on the snow, its wrappings flapping in the freezing wind.

He ignored his girlfriend’s wishes and instead hurried down the path to his left. It was the long way back to Hogwarts.

“Draco! What are you doing?” Y/N asked. She began to struggle in his grip, Draco wasn’t expecting this, and he dropped her. She screamed in pain; he’d dropped her on her bad ankle.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sorry Y/N, please just let me take you back to Hogwarts, it’s not safe here,” he pleaded with her.

She glared at him and then looked behind her. Hagrid was now holding Katie in his arms. Y/N knew she’d be safe with Hagrid.

Draco let out a sigh of relief when she raised her arms, signaling she wished to be picked up again. “Thank you, love,” he said as he brought her back into his arms. “Thank you.”

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x you #series #fred weasley #george weasley #ron weasley #harry potter #hogwarts #death eater #luna lovegood #hermione granger #draco lucius malfoy #lucius malfoy #rubeus hagrid #katie bell #opal necklace

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dovveling · 3 years

Text

Lucio/Iolas - Wedding Proposal

(I really liked my long ass answer to the love ask about their proposal so i wanted to make it it’s own post that way y’all can ready it easier--)

The sun hung low in the sky as Lucio makes his way to the palace gardens. He has asked Iolas to meet him out by their favorite spot in the garden maze. the blonde smiles remembering how the two of them had found the hidden spot while goofing around and shoving each other into the hedges. It wasn't until one hard push sent Lucio through the hedge that he had found it. He fully expected to land on his ass but instead he found himself on the other side of a portal with Iolas calling for him from the other side.

Quickly Lucio ushered the other man through the portal and the two looked over a hidden meadow that seemed to be somewhere close to the center of the maze. Lucio could picture it perfectly; the stark white gazebo in the center, the perfect sun rays that sprinkled the fluffy grass and the willow tree with its small leaves that dripped and trickled. He fondly reminisced when the wind would blow and the tendrils of the willow would tickle up the wooden beams of the gazebo and scare Iolas into laughter every time the leaves would brush against his lover.

As Lucio draws closer to the portal he stops right before he enters and stares at the ring he had spent hours picking out. He had never fussed so much over a gift for someone. It was a first for him to worry about gift-giving, because anything he picked out was glamorous and simply perfect. This however wasn't just a gift.

It was a question.

Which meant it had to be perfect. Every time he would think he was close to choosing a ring he would look and see a flaw. A flaw that Iolas had the potential see. Which if he did meant the possibility of Lucio never getting to hear the answer he so desperately wants to the question He’s so nervous to ask.

So many times Lucio doubled back on himself about the proposal. Is this just too much? His mind would race. Could he see himself getting married again when his last marriage was such a failure? Then he would hear it. Iolas' laugh. Followed by the heart warming memories of the sunlight hitting the coffee skin of his lover. Afterwards every reservation burned away and was replaced with a deep desire to make this person his and only his.

Clinging to his new found confidence Lucio steels himself as he pockets the ring, almost dropping the bottle of champagne he forgets he was holding. As he pushes through the portal the blonde's heart skips a little at the sight of his lover resting on the side of the white gazebo. He’s wearing a white robe that Lucio had gotten commissioned to match his iconic white suit. The sight of it sets his heart running, he now knows the other dressed up just for him. As Lucio walks closer he can tell his lover seems to be lost in thought. He watched the other man’s crimson eyes gaze over the tree line, transfixed on something invisible as their thoughts dictate their face. It isn’t until Lucio steps closer and knocks on the wood with a playful tune that his lover acknowledges that the count has walked into the meadow. Lucio’s wolfish smile triggers a similar grin on his lover’s face.

"Hi, my Darling--" Iolas starts before pulling Lucio over by his collar to meet their lips together. With a giggle Iolas watches Lucio hop over the median of the gazebo instead of using the very close opening that's just a little be over to the side of them. Lucio tries to steady his face, but he can’t help that he’s excited. He doesn't want to come off too eager or nervous, but Lucio can tell his poker face failed as Iolas gives him a curious look. "What are you planning? I know that look."

Lucio however holds his hands up in defense after he places the bottle of champagne down on the railing in front of them. "Why do I always have to be up to something huh? Can't a man just meet his lover in a secret hole in the woods for some late-night drinking and maybe a little late-night macking?" the blonde throws the magician a wink, which is met with a playful smack that Lucio is all too found of.

"Did you bring glasses, Oh Count of Macking?" Iolas teases with a click of his tongue and to that Lucio's face freezes for a second. The easily distracted count did not think about the glass part of drinking, but his shock lasts for a split second before he nudges his lover with an elbow and a cheeky grin. "Can't you just magic something up for us--" Before Lucio can even finish Iolas throws his head back, his whole body shakes with a genuine laugh. One that Lucio only sees when Iolas reacts to his particular stupidity. "Absolutely not. I cannot manifest glassware, but fret not Lulu I prepared for this." The silver-haired man stands on the railing of the gazebo and reaches up behind one of the posts and brings down two champagne glasses. Lucio amused at this helps the shorter man down before taking both glasses and leaning down to give his lover a short kiss on the head.

Snickering to himself Lucio places the glasses down and pops open the champagne. "See? Who needs magic when you have a lover who has the spirit of a squirrel. Why are those even up there?" Iolas can't seem to hold back his laugher and starts into a long dialogue about how the last party they hosted he was tasked with disposing of all the drinks Lucio downed after getting into a drinking match with Julian. At some point he got too fed up hauling all the empty glass wear to and fro so he eventually gave up and used the portal which was much closer than the garbage. Soon as he finishes that story Lucio makes note that not only does he not remember this drinking contest at all, but he also notices that the whole upper layer of the Gazebo is littered with small drinking glasses of all shapes and sizes.

After the two of them laugh at the absurdity of the situation the couple dive into a comfortable speed of talking. Slowly they unravel the days events to each other, to which Lucio adds more flavor by introducing the drinks. The sun finally settles and the garden lights flicker on and thanks to all the glass wear in the gazebo small reflected lights scattered within their own space. Slowly the stories of their day dwindle and eventually, they huddle close to each other so they can look under the top of their gazebo and point out stars. Lucio watches the small warm lights bounce off his lover's face and his heart races. He can't chicken out now.

"Iolas." Lucio stops the silver-haired man mid-sentence as the other was going on about his zodiac sign and how it will be visible in the sky soon until he hears his name.

Iolas pauses fully, not use to hearing his full name exit his lover's lips unless it was during a more intimate and scandalous situation. So he hides his hesitation with a smile and he answers the blonde with the same tone he just used but exaggerated with a deeper tone to lighten the mood. "Lucio." The count starts to fidget but just laughs when Iolas mocks his serious tone. "No really, uh... Listen for a second." Iolas' face now turns from curious to worried. " Uh oh. that's a real serious tone. What did you do?" Lucio brushes him off, biting his lip and rubs the back of his neck. He feels so lame doing this, but that's the point.

Lucio stands up straight taking Iolas' hands, looking directly into those red eyes. For a second Lucio’s mind feels erased. It was as if looking into his lovers eyes reset every word he had planned out, but the ring sits heavy in his pocket. So he tried and opens his mouth only to close it so he can bring Iolas' cold fingers to his lips, unable to find his words just yet.

Iolas' however is completely taken aback. His lover has been romantic before but he was much more used to their back a forth of one-upping each other and superficial compliments they would glob onto each other. Their usual dynamic coupled with nightly flings where he ended up in the blonde's bed, made the sudden tenderness unsettling.

The magician could feel that dark feeling creep to his shoulders. The one that would say he shouldn't get his hopes up, that he's happy filling the count's time till he finds a real suitor. Even if Lucio was a temporary General at the palace he was still a completely different status then Iolas and Royals don't have court magician as suitors. So his hopes remained low but he was happy to bide his time with Lucio. However little it would be. Iolas had to admit even with the teasing and snarky remarks that sometimes get out of hand he loved and even craved the other man's company. Sadly, love doesn't change status. Love doesn't guarantee a happy ending. His a master when it comes to disappointment and had learned his lesson the hard way.

So It was the last thing Iolas' expected when the taller man pulls out the biggest ring the magician has ever seen and gets down on one knee. Iolas' first thought is to pinch himself so he can wake up. Then when air fills his lungs he realizes he’s awake and this is happening. More than happening, he's been silent for far too long. All he can hear is the stinging sound of his building anxiety attack banging around in his head. The buzz is deafening and He can see that Lucio is speaking but he can't hear him.

You will just disappoint him. Iolas' thoughts curse. Better yet he'll disappoint you. A shaky breath leaves him and all he can do is blink and look at Lucio with watery eyes. "I-- I'm sorry please can you say that again." Iolas stops and closes his eyes just so he doesn't have to look at the ring that's almost blinding with its meaning.

Lucio's normal wolfish grin falters but only returns once he hears Iolas speak. "I said. We should get hitched, ya know?" Lucio sputters, shit. "Look. Like I was saying we're surrounded by losers, Pet. Who else am I gonna get to match me other than you huh? come on, look at me—“ he gestures to his hair and outfit before continuing “Then look at you! we're perfect for each other.. ya know?" Lucio now looks nervous as he speaks. Unable to keep eye contact. “..and.. I love your laugh."

This seems to pull Iolas' from his anxiety a little even enough to get him to let out a weak laugh. "What? what does that have to do with anything?" Lucio pouts and glares at his lover just a tiny bit. "I love your laugh! and I don't want anyone else to have it. I deserve it, I get you to do it most and I think you owe me. So like.." Lucio ushers Iolas' to the ring, his legs are starting to buckle. "I wouldn't admit this to anyone else but my knees aren't what they use to be so can we--" Iolas stops him with a curt turn, his shoulders shaking.

The blonde stands at his lovers reaction his whole body rigid. This was it. The rejection he warned himself about. He's ruined everything, his heart screams to take it all back. Iolas is probably laughing at the proposal and Lucio's tacky way of offering himself. It isn't until the sound of a stuffy nose echo through the silent night that Lucio realizes his lover is crying and instantly he steps forward a different kind of fear gripping his heart. " W-wait-- wait, why are you crying? You never cry--" He falters and fidgets his hands around his lover unsure if he wants to be held or not.

Iolas turns finally, his red puffy eyes are turned down in a grimace as they glisten in the dim light. "Yeah, you idiot I never cry and look at what you made me do." His tone is harsh but it's followed by a sad shake that ruins any intention of anger. "Lucio I... I don't know how to do this." Lucio's heart slows but he's thrown for a loop and Iolas can sense his confusion and clears his throat as he wipes his leaking eyes. "No one has ever, wanted me like this before. I don't know if I can-- How do you know you want this? What if I disappoint you? What if you get tired of me and regret ever meeting me? At least if we keep things like before you can just get rid of me if I'm too much and I won't have to--" Lucio stops Iolas this time as he brings his lover close by pulling on his crossed arms.

"You won't have to worry about falling in love?" The blonde answers with his own sense of sadness, his eyes looking down at their feet before meeting with Iolas' who only nods in response. Lucio is a bit thankful that his lover didn't outright say no and is at least contemplating the idea of things. "I had the same thoughts and honestly I don't know how I'm sure. I just... am." Lucio's normal bravado comes back now that he feels more secure in the conversation. "I know that I love seeing you every day. I know that I love sleeping with you every night. I know that I don't want anyone else to hold you the way I hold you and I know that you feel the same way about me." At that the blonde swallows hoping he isn't wrong. "But mostly I know I don't ever want you to leave. If you were to go, do you know how fucking boring this place would be? I would set the parlor on fire within minutes of you being gone." The cheeky grin is back and Iolas snorts at the idea and manages a smile as he is now fully embraced by his lover.

Lucio rests his head on top the shorter man’s and hums, kissing the top of it. Slowly he pulls Iolas back so he can look down at him. "But it's not just about what I want... you kinda need to want those things too." Now it's Iolas turn to nervously look away and slowly as the shorter man's courage builds he tightens his grip on Lucio's jacket and more tears roll down his face as the realization comes crashing onto him that he'd do anything to be with the man in front of him. Before He can answer he shoves his face into Lucio's jacket rubbing his head back and forth on the soft fabric. "You moron-- Of course I want all that."

The blonde can't resist the urge to tease the other man however and laughs to himself. "I'm sorry, could you say that again I couldn't hear you from inside my jacket." Iolas hits the taller man's chest with a laugh before he goes to wipe his damp eyes yet again. "You know for a fact that I said YES-- urgh, gods look at what you did to my make up how the hell am I going to fix this now--" Iolas' whining is stopped short by his lover picking him up in a searing kiss that continues as the blonde twirls them both. With a firm grip on Iolas' waist Lucio looks up at the magician with a smile that could blind the gods. "I wanna hear you say it." Iolas rolls his eyes at that. With most of his face red as a beet, a large pout crosses the silver-haired man's lips. He kicks his legs from his newfound lifted position.

"I have zero idea what you're talking about--" Iolas protests but Lucio shakes his head. "Say it or you are never leaving this gazebo." Iolas is about to rebuttal but the look in Lucio's eyes is that yes he is serious. Iolas' expression softens, even if it's despite himself. "Of course I'll marry you, LuLu." Lucio whispers a soft ‘yes!’ Before he bounces in his spot and spins the both of them once again but this time continues to spin around the whole gazebo. The blonde’s laughing slowly raises to excited cackling as they spin. Iolas can only laugh back and struggle against the crazy man holding him. "Stop--! Lulu Stop! we're gonna--" but it's too late. Lucio's legs trip over themselves and with zero grace they both tumble onto the hardwood floor.

Iolas rolls onto his back and groans, dizzy and sore his eyes dart over to the man beside him who is just as dazed. Slowly Iolas entwines their hands with a smile and Lucio is about to kiss his lover's fingers before he remembers the ring. The blonde springs forward, getting up like the fall meant absolutely nothing. Iolas however takes his time sitting up as his lover fumbles to find the ring he dropped.

Soon as it's found Lucio slides over, the scraping sound of the taller man's pants on the hardwood makes the magician giggle. Iolas has to give the other man sheer points for his enthusiasm. Pompously Iolas sticks his left hand out, to which Lucio plays along and kisses the other man's ring finger dramatically before slipping the large ring onto Iolas' hand.

Carefully Iolas' holds his hand out to the light and observes the sheer size of the ring and can't help but grin. Lucio practically radiates waves of anticipation. His cheeks flushed from their recent spinning but his eyes sparkle and scream that they crave his lovers attention.

"Was this the biggest ring they had?" Iolas wiggles his fingers, acting as if he's unimpressed. Lucio simply feeds back into him. "How dare you." He sneers, pulling Iolas into his lap as he sits, unable to be on his knees any longer. "I had this one custom ordered. Not only is it the biggest ring in stores, but it's also the biggest wedding ring, period." He speaks into the shorter man's neck before he kisses it, The count's tone never faltering. The very idea of that sends Iolas into a giggle fit. He knows for a fact that this ring physically cannot be the biggest ring ever but another part of him can see Lucio putting up a fight with store owners about the pitiful size of their rings to the point where he just orders them to make him a whole new size.

"Of course, I knew my Lulu would only get me the best. He’s not capable of anything less." Lucio preens in the praise and Iolas strokes the back of his fingers against his lover's face. For a moment they stay like that, both of them processing what exactly just happened and what this means for their future. Iolas is the first to break the silence with a soft hum as he presses against Lucio's chest. "Thank you... Lucio." the taller man responds by nuzzling his nose into the shorter man's hair with a confused hum. "I never thought I could do this...” Iolas voice wavers but only slightly as he takes Lucios hand in his. The weight of the ring feels odd but strangely comforting. “... but for the first time, I'm not scared." Lucio smiles at that. and squeezes his lover in his arms.

"Good. We can be fearless together."

#lucio x mc #lucio x apprentice #count lucio #lucio the arcana #oc talk #Iolas Leolynn #my writing #if you got the time please lemme know how I did-- I'm not the best at editing so please excuse my errors!!#i'm dying to know what my other oc moots think tho pls lemme know

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ddullahan · 3 years

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hadestown au 2

I HAVEN’T FORGOTTEN ABOUT THEM it’s a constant brainrot tbh and i’m gonna throw the next chapter out because i’m experimenting with things so if you’re new here, welcome, and here’s the first chapter if you haven’t read it: hadestown au 1 ------------ it’s a love song Music is everywhere in this world. From the hot, mosquito infested plantations to the coldest points of the north, it hums in the earth above and for what? It's off-key and discordant, but it follows the wind off the train tracks as if it has nowhere else to go. Yang remembers growing up on the tracks. She remembers singing with the winds, and hearing laughter in her ears. The Fates were always at the back of your mind, pulling you from choice to choice like there's fishing wire wrapped around your soul. Invisible, they beckon you away from home. They beckon you to the fires down below. She remembers thinking their voices sound unkind. It still sends shivers through her body. The idea that her destiny might not be good, or bright. But it’s not anything she’s dwelling on. She remembers her first melody. How it came from her tiny house hidden in the willows. Willows, with their long branches that wave in the breeze like the sleeves of a robe. Waving at the train, waving at her as she draws chalk flowers on her front porch. They're friendlier than the blues give them credit for, and when she was younger, she wanted the world to know. So she opened her mouth to sing, and the willows suddenly weren't weeping anymore. She loves those willows as much as she loves her guardian, and the little train station she finds herself crying in - but that's something for later. Yang's not crying as her hands dunk beneath soapy waves. She's humming, as she always is. Slow and soft, sponge scraping in time with the swinging door. Voices trip over themselves in the amphitheatre beyond. Everyone's excited for spring to come. The train is on its way. They just need to wait for the Queen to start their summer fun. Yang loves this time of year. There's dancing, and singing. Joy wraps around the rafters and the walls get painted in hope. It’s a rolling tide of an echoing chorus, too happy to be contained. She stacks the last clean plate into a bucket and dries her hands. She knows the festivities can't go on until the Queen’s grace touches the land - but there's something she has to do first, with these plates they've never used. She has to break them all. She has to meet her muse. It's a story that's already been written into the floors, Yang just needs to follow Fate’s wires threaded in her hole-y shoes. So without thinking too much, she swings around; picks up her bucket of dishes. She makes her way out from the kitchen. Except nothing can prepare her for the moment everything begins. Her feet slip into grooves she’s never noticed before. She’s thrown by the recognition worn into her soul - like this stranger across from her has touched it before. Like she’s already gone and marked Yang’s soul like a worry stone. Like she’s already pressed a divot in the shape of her thumb. Ink black hair set in short, fluffy waves. A sharp jaw and rich brown skin. There’s buttery yellow light in the walls that spill onto her face. It turns her lips into a plush, dark valley that Yang needs to sink her teeth in. She’s pulled away by the eyes, though. They're precious gold glinting with hints of amber. They're set under nightdark banners, black eyelashes that flutter like raven wings. They almost seem to glow with hunger. The sight is enough to knock the wind out of Yang's sails. To empty her lungs. There's something familiar in this awe. Aching and ancient, it moves her like there's fire at her feet. Suddenly there's a song building palaces in her chest, and she knows that melody like she knows her willows. She hears in the rafters. She knows its very nature. Yang's entire body yearns with the desire to sing. The world stops. And then resumes. As Yang's pale lilacs start to search gold eyes for that same, ancient ache - she has only seconds to understand something fundamental, and profound. That this is meant to be. That she’s known this woman's soul as long as she’s been alive to breathe. Longer, even. There’s something familiar in the mahogany of her cheeks. Something echoed by the trees. Maybe it’s because the song they sing is the same. Because willows are friendlier than the blues make them out to be, and Yang gets the feeling that this woman is not all she appears to be. Oh, Yang needs to know her again. The woman has a mouth that begs to be fed. She has a body that drowns in that tattered old coat. But it still makes Yang remember that she has an empty bed, in her house under the willows. She wants to offer shelter to those hollow cheeks. Though she swallows the urge like it's a handful of nails in her throat. There's enough pain in it to make her drop the forgotten bucket in her hands. The dishes shatter through the fuzziness in her ears. And it's only by a miracle that she gathers her wits. The miracle being Summer Rose in the form of guidance. She touches Yang's arm, asks her to get a broom. She has a knowing glint in her eye, but it's a little sad, too. Like she knows the world shifted two inches to the left. Like she’s known the story before it ever began. Yang snaps free of the binds in her feet. She jumps to attention, and makes a hasty retreat. Her hands are in her bangs within seconds of the door swinging shut. She stammers gibberish to Summer, who only smiles with love. "You want to talk to her?" She asks in a coo. "More than anything," Yang breathes. She's sure there's stars being born in her eyes. "Well, go on." Summer says. "But don't come on too strong, dear. She's still very new around here." "I won't!" Yang replies, already planning her wedding. "I'll - I'll take her to see the night sky, and I'll give her a melody! I'll sing songs about her eyes and show her the willows when they don't weep. I'll write her poems and maybe she'll agree to marry me-" "That's all well and good, dear," Summer laughs. She reaches up to pat Yang's cheek fondly. "But maybe you should start with your name. There's no rush." "No, but I feel like I've done this before." Yang presses an anxious fist to her chest. "I feel like she'll say yes." "Baby girl, you have such starlight in your eyes," Summer says softly, "And I support you regardless. But maybe, just for once... You should take your time with this." Yang frowns. Her heart doesn't want to wait. But Summer's face holds a deep, deep pain. Her silver eyes are gunmetal gray. She smiles, but still gives off an aura of resignation. It's the same look she wears when something is wrong, or will be soon. It has something to do with Yang, and the girl in the other room. Yang knows that age doesn't dare show it's face on Summer Rose. She looks young, for a goddess of course, but Yang doesn't know what she's seen. She doesn't know what it's like to live for eternity, though she tastes it a little when she sings. She doesn't know what it's like to be Hermes, but from the expression Missus Rose gives… it must be bad. All Yang really knows is that she took her in, when her muse of a mother abandoned her on the road. She knows that, and she knows how much she loves Summer Rose. So it's with her guardian on her mind, instead of the song bursting in her chest, that she says softly, "Okay, Missus Rose. I'll try my best." Summer double-takes. Her face is filled with surprise. The silver seems to slip back into her eyes with hope and wonder. "...Thank you, sweetheart." She says, stilted and unsure. "I'm just looking out for you." "I know." Yang smiles, blinding and bright. "You always are." Yang doesn't remember when she grew taller. She just knows that Summer, in her fast steps and suited splendor, has never really admitted that she was Yang's mother. Though that never stopped her from loving Yang just as hard. So Yang bends down, and gives the goddess' forehead a kiss. She admits to her shyly, "You're a good mom. One of the best, I think." Summer's eyes fill with tears, but none of them fall. She murmurs thickly, "When did you get so tall?" "Don’t know," Yang laughs, "Time really flies when you blink." "Mm." Summer gives a sweet grin. "Don't you have a girl you need to meet?" Yang's face flushes in red. Summer hums thoughtfully; skips away too fast to see. She's back with a soda, and hands it to Yang with a wink. "Try this for an icebreaker," She says, "You'd do well to take off the cap for her." "Th-thank you!" Yang squawks in surprise. Her usual honeyed voice cracks way too high. She blushes harder, but Summer is already ushering her out the door. It swings shut, and she is alone on the floor. The girl - woman, rather - is huddled at a table with her head bowed down. She's hovering over a ratty backpack that's probably seen a thousand towns, a thousand homes, and a thousand trains. She looks weathered, and cold. Yang desperately wants to wrap her up and make her warm. She needs to know her name. So she takes her first step, and then the next. Crawling over to her awkwardly, the bottle held to her chest. It's mechanical, the way she pops off the bottle cap. The way she watches it slip from her shaking fingers. Lets it clatter over to fingerless gloves. She sees a flash of gold hidden beneath those black lashes. She's struck stupid by the way they almost glow in their sockets. And they meet, lilacs to amber. And her heart screams, marry her, marry her. She feels a hole rip open in her chest. It gapes with awe and wonder. It consigns her to no other lover except the woman she swears she's already met. The song in the rafters starts over, and Yang just stands. There's so much hunger set in the woman's face. It's a landscape of starvation, with valleys built from sharp cheekbones and soft black waves. Despite the insistence of the muscle in her chest, Yang takes a breath, and her wedding plans go out the window. Her every ounce of confidence seems to dwindle until the last of it drips from her fingers. Those gold eyes are suddenly too much. There's a strange, visceral fear in Yang's bones. It pulses in veins of gold. It's foreign, and old. It bleeds with desperation. She knows for a fact she's been down this road. That this lovely creature has held her hand before, and turned away. Promises stick to her throat and rot. Fruit of the vine filled with blight, and not a cure to be seen. A cycle that repeats. A tragedy that has always been. Visions of a future long past. A die that’s already been cast. It's all too much. Her heart seizes, and Yang - for once in her life - runs. She turns and wobbles her way back to the kitchen. She feels those haunting eyes burning into her shoulders. Palatial notes and flowering verses twist in her chest longingly. The song she feels inside her like a heartbeat starts to wail at the absence of her muse's name. The emptiness sits black in the cavern of her ribs, silent as a grave. She wants to turn back... but her feet won't obey.

#rwby hadestown au #bumbleby hadestown au #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #summer rose #yes she's hermes LOL #i thought it fit the narrative angle i'm goin for XD #also i unabashedly love summer rose and will look for any excuse to put her in my fics #anyway here's part 2 of the brainrot #thanks again to yangsbandana for keeping this au constantly in the back of my head #ngl i posted this for you because you inspire me so #<3 #rwby fanfic #rwby au #rwby

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the-starryknight · 3 years

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I’ve decided to create a rather self-indulgent series of rec lists (with fic, art, podfic, fanmixes etc.) related to various facets of the art world. We’ll start with the more typical take on it - Artist!Harry and Artist!Draco - and spin out to antiques & houses & galleries & fashion & wandmaking & music and more. I welcome chat in my inbox! Rec me something I missed, exclaim about your favs... I’d love to hear your thoughts.

ART + DRARRY RECS: ARTIST!HARRY

Many of these gorgeous pieces use Harry’s art as a way for him to heal or to find a path outside of the Aurors. Making (in whatever form) is also often a way for Harry to reconnect with Draco (or to connect in the first place). Enjoy!

[Fic + Podfic] Turn fic by Saras_girl, podfic by @mab-speaks / Queenie_Mab 2013 | E | 307k

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

★ A classic Drarry fic by the classic Saras_girl featuring a romantic, emotional, and powerful story about finding oneself (again & again) in the world of his own making. Plus, Mab brings new life to the gorgeous prose in the podfic with a lovely storyteller’s tone. ★

[Fic + Art + Fanmix] The Boy and the Sleeping Prince fic by @writcraft, art by @phoenixacid 2015 | E | 27k/Illustration

Harry is miserable and tired of being an Auror, coasting through life until he’s forced to make some changes. Spurred on by his passion for drawing and working with best-selling author Draco Malfoy, Harry develops a charm which gives children a magical, interactive reading experience. But when it’s time to test the spell, the two men find themselves trapped in a nightmarish fairy tale world. Can they escape unscathed, or is Draco right in his assertions that there is no such thing as a happily ever after?

★ This fic is so unusual! Featuring illustrator!Harry and writer!Draco tumbling into a surrealistic and dramatic world, a fairytale of their own making. The worldbuilding in this fic is incredibly immersive in terrifying and beautiful ways, made visible and audible in the art and fanmix. PhoenixAcid’s illustrations are just stunning with incredible shading and depth. ★

[Fic] Solder by Oakstone730 2015 | E | 35k

Seven years ago, Harry disappeared out of Draco and Scorpius's life without a trace after Harry's addictions destroyed his and Draco's marriage. Now, Harry’s back, and Draco wants to believe he’s changed. But Harry isn’t the only one haunted by the past.

★ Though this fic deals with the challenging weight of Harry’s potions addiction, it is set years into his recovery and is all about rebuilding, reconnecting and regaining trust (all of which take work and care, which this fic shows with love). The descriptions of the art in this fic makes my heart yearn for more stained glass in my life! ★

[Art] Second Chances by @celilasart / LLAP115 2017 | G | Comic

The painter Irah Raindrop has conquered the Wizarding art world by storm, but no one knows who is hiding behind this pseudonym. Draco Malfoy is one of Irah's biggest fans and a serious art collector who doesn't miss a single exhibition of Irah's art. This time, he dragged Pansy to the grand opening of Irah's latest exhibition in Paris.

★ A gorgeous comic with a striking collector!Draco, Pansy in a red dress, a little cafe, and a mysterious reunion in the city of love. The expressions in this are gorgeously dynamic. ★

[Fic] Tourist: A Love Song by xErised 2019 | T | 30k (cw for a potions overdose, untagged)

Harry is in New York City looking for inspiration for his next collection of paintings. He’s not expecting inspiration to appear in the form of a black-haired Draco Malfoy playing the guitar and singing with such a beautiful voice.

★ xErised uses Harry’s art as a way for him to see Draco with new eyes. Harry draws him from across the room, and in doing so, finds that he’s an entirely new person, and how gorgeous and powerful is this kind of sight? I loved exploring all my favorite parts of NYC with its doting resident, Draco. ★

[Fic] The Delicate Balance of Light and Shade by Nympha_Alba 2020 | E | 13k

With the war finally over, Harry tries to find his own path in a world where he is free to make his own choice. On a holiday in France, he unexpectedly falls in love with art and painting. Returning to Hogwarts to help rebuild it, he is paired up with Draco Malfoy to restore the Room of Requirement - and unexpectedly falls in love with Draco. When the rebuilding efforts are done, Harry disappears. Years later, Draco goes to Muggle London at Pansy's suggestion to visit an art gallery. The name of the Muggle artist is unknown to Draco, but the subject of the erotic paintings is shockingly familiar: it's Draco himself. It's time to confront the past and make some long-due confessions.

★ This fic feels like it has a heartbeat in the way that Nympha_Alba has constructed short, poignant scenes. Nympha’s descriptions of Harry’s work are stunning and so revealing about both Harry and Draco. ★

[Fic] The Way We Wind by @thesleepiesthufflepuff / BlueFay 2020 | E | 47k

After the war, Harry’s life falls to shambles. Each day revolves around an intense battle with his mental health, and there’s nothing that Ron or Hermione can do to help him. That is, until Hermione teaches Harry how to knit. Fast forward five years, and Harry is the proud owner of a renowned knitting shop in Diagon Alley, The Whomping Willow Woolery. Christmas season is upon him, and the shop is busier than ever. So, is it really a surprise that Draco Malfoy wanders in looking for a gift for his mother? Cue awkward meetings, fluffy knitting lessons, a truly horrible scarf, a cat named Stockinette who is readily obsessed with Draco, and falling in love with one’s worst enemy.

★ In the ultimate finding-healing-in-art fic, The Way We Wind weaves a romantic, emotional love story for two men whose lives are and have always been along the same thread. The perfect feel-good that will leave you wanting a warm knit jumper. ★

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skullrock · 4 years

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the captain

pairing: Steve x Hagan!Reader

request: Can I please request a fluffy fic where Steve falls for Tommy H’s sister? She stops by Scoops Ahoy to buy ice cream and they go all “Oh, it’s been a long time since we last saw each other” kind of? I love your writing so much 🥺

word count: 1.8k

warnings: Steve being Big Idiot, mentions of T*mmy H*gan

a/n: tommy’s party by peach pit intensifies in my head

===

“We’re out of sea-berry.”

Robin doesn’t look up from her book. “What?”

Steve grabs the empty container from the display case and nearly chucks it in her direction. “We - are out - of sea-berry.” He chucks it dramatically into the trash and throws his hat on the counter, then leans forward to rest his head in his hands.

“Steve, it’s just ice cream,” Robin says. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I am having a bad day.”

Robin’s brows knit together. “Because we’re out of sea-berry?”

“It’s not about the ice cream, Robin,” he says, lifting his head to glare at her. “It’s about working at a shitty minimum wage job with this stupid hat and my arms hurt from scooping stupid ice cream for stupid customers.”

Robin puts her book down and sighs, hopping off the counter. She claps Steve’s shoulder and he bristles at the feeling. “Hey, slinging ice cream isn’t stupid.”

“Oh?” he asks. “In this - in this costume?” Steve tugs at his shirt. “You don’t think this job is stupid?”

Robin winces. “Spoiled,” she mumbles, and leans against the back counter. “How’s the girl thing coming along?”

Steve sighs loudly, dramatically, and leans against the cooler, back to the seating area. “How do you think?”

“I haven’t kept track today, but knowing your record, not good.”

“I give up!” he cries out, throwing his hands up. “I give up. The - the - God or whatever - wants me to suffer. I am fruitless.” He stares at the ground and crosses his arms. “My dad’s trying to teach me a lesson on being responsible and the universe is trying to teach me a lesson on being - I don’t know.”

“Not an asshole?”

Steve winces now, eyes trained on his shoelaces. “Yeah, maybe.”

Robin sighs, feeling some pity for the boy in front of her. “Look, you only have a few more hours, okay? Just make it til then.”

Just make it til then. Steve can do that, he thinks.

And then you come into the store.

Steve does a double take, looking up from the to-do list he’s reading for the fiftieth time that day. His brows furrow and he goes a bit slack-jawed, shocked to see you. He hadn’t seen you in forever - since junior year, at least. He hadn’t even thought about you; Tommy and all things related had been forcefully eradicated from his mind. But he knows you from anywhere - knows the freckles and hair, knows your smile. Knows the laugh you share with a friend before you walk into the store, alone, playing with your wallet.

Steve continues to stare with his mouth agape as you approach, and you also do a double-take. You remember Steve - of course you remember Steve. He was all you thought about while Tommy was close with him. You’d begged your brother two things your whole life - to stop being a dick and to get Steve to go on a date with you.

Of course, he did neither.

But you’re grown up now, more confident and less desperate for a date. Still, despite the growth, you’re completely smitten. Steve’s even cuter now, has grown into himself. His hair, salon-highlighted, bounces as you both make eye contact. You remember the moles on his neck, his hands, his eyes - god, his eyes, warm and brown and always kind even when Steve wasn’t. And he was kind, to you, at least. You could always see past the bullshit facade. You knew who he was, deep down. You knew him as a quiet boy at the pool, the one who said please and thank you to your mother, the one who shoved Tommy when Tommy was mean to you. He always wanted to make you laugh, no matter what. You just felt comfortable with him.

You realize at this point that you’ve stopped walking and you blush as your feet begin to work again.

“Look who it is,” you say, smiling widely. “The one that got away.”

Steve smiles despite not understanding the joke. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi, Steve.”

“Been a long time,” he says, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah.” You smile sadly. “Tommy wouldn’t tell me what happened. I just knew I wasn’t going to see you anymore.”

Steve stiffens a bit at the mention of Tommy, but he shrugs a shoulder. “Well, you know -”

“I do know,” you say. “I wish I could lose Tommy and Carol.”

“I guess I got lucky, huh?”

“Yeah, guess you did,” you say, eyes trained on his. “And I got unlucky. I missed you.”

Steve perks up a bit, but his brows twitch together. “You missed me?”

“I - yeah,” you stutter, blushing. “Yeah. You were always cool and nice to me.”

Steve’s smile widens and he leans against the counter, clasping his hands together. “Yeah? Well, maybe I missed you, too.”

“Really?”

“You were fun,” he says, “and I think we connected because deep down, we both hated your brother.”

“And Carol.”

“And Carol,” he laughs. “God, remember when they made me have a pool party? And you and I went inside and played Monopoly for hours while they made out at the pool?”

You laugh, too. “Jesus Christ, your pool probably has mono.”

“Probably.”

You both stare at each other a little longer before you clear your throat. “So - ice cream? What do you recommend? I’ve never been here.”

“Lucky you,” he says, straightening. “Well, we’re out of sea-berry -”

Robin sighs behind him and he turns to glare at her, not enjoying the audience, but whips back around to you. “But we have other flavors.”

“Oh, boy,” you say, your smile starting to hurt your face. “Lay ‘em on me.”

Steve takes you through each flavor, dramatically reciting what they are and what the selling point is, handing you a small spoon for each one. You really don’t care to taste them all, but you care about talking to him - you care about your fingers brushing every time he hands you a sample, how his eyes light up when he laughs, how dorky he looks and sounds.

“We also have sundaes and stuff,” he says, “which I can also attempt to sell to you.”

“Do you make this much of an effort every time you make a sale?”

“No, just for you.”

You both blush but the smiles stay, and Robin is nearly gagging behind Steve because it’s frankly disgusting to watch straight people flirt.

“What do you usually get?” you ask. “I think I trust your judgement.”

“I don’t give this place my money,” he says, “but when I steal, I always get the USS Butterscotch.”

You wrinkle your nose. “What is it called?”

“Look, I didn’t name it!”

You laugh. “I bet you didn’t pick your uniforms, either.”

Steve snorts. “No way, I’d pick something much nicer -”

“What, like a pastel striped polo?” Robin quips from behind him.

Steve whips around again and opens his mouth to retaliate, but you say, “I think it looks good on you.”

He turns to look at you, head inclined as if to say yeah, right. “No, I look stupid.”

“No!” you protest. “It’s really nice. The color is nice on you.”

Steve can’t stop the blush that creeps onto his cheeks, and he rubs the back of his neck. “You think?”

“Yeah,” you say casually. “And it really shows off your arms and legs.”

At this point, Robin gets up and walks to the back, leaving you and Steve alone. Finally.

“What about my arms and legs needs shown off?” he asks.

You roll your eyes. “Like you don’t know.”

“Like I don’t know what?”

“That you’re cute.”

Had Steve been drinking, he would have done a spit-take.

“I mean - like - uh. Like - you’re - conventionally. Attractive,” you add, anxiety gripping your veins. “Like. You know.”

Steve smirks. “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do,” you say, leaning across the cooler to tug on his ascot. “You know you’re attractive. That was your one personality trait.”

Steve pouts. “Hey -”

“I’m kidding,” you say, pushing him a bit before leaning back to your side of the cooler. “I’d like a - whatever you said earlier.”

Steve whips his scooper out and twirls it in his hand before getting to work. You smile as you wait, watching him do everything very dramatically and with flair. He turns and produces the concoction to you, gesturing towards it theatrically before handing it to you.

“How much?” you ask, reaching for your wallet again.

“No way,” he says, crinkling his nose. “You’re not paying.”

Your shoulders drop and you frown. “Steve, come on -”

“It’s on me. I like to steal from this place.”

You laugh and shake your head. “Like Robin Hood.”

“Sure,” he says, not knowing who that is. “Like Robin Hood.”

“This better be good,” you say. “Because I’m not coming back if it sucks.”

“That’s too bad,” he pouts, leaning against the cooler. “I guess that means I’ll have to see you outside of work, then.”

You raise a brow and smile, grabbing the spoon in your dish. “Let’s see.”

You slowly take a bite. It’s actually pretty good, but you want to see Steve somewhere else.

“It sucks,” you say. “Worst thing I’ve ever had.”

“Damn,” Steve sighs. “I guess that means I’ll have to meet you at the movies tomorrow at eight?”

“I guess so,” you say, trying to suppress a smile. “What a bummer.”

Steve smiles fondly. “What a bummer.”

After a few moments of intense eye-contact, the bell at the counter rings, signifying Erica Sinclair’s entrance. Steve sighs and grits his teeth, looking back at you with a sympathetic smile. “I’m very glad you came in here.”

“Me too,” you smile. “Tomorrow? Eight? Movies.”

“Tomorrow, eight, movies,” he repeats, nodding, and you smile wider at how his hair bobs over his forehead as he does.

“Sailor Man!”

“Jesus,” Steve mumbles, sending you one last smile before going towards the register.

===

“That was so gross,” Robin scoffs. “You guys - ugh. For fifteen minutes!”

Steve smugly smiles at her. He walks towards her board and grabs her marker, dramatically drawing a ‘I’ on his side of the board. “I rule.”

“This time,” Robin says, unable to hide her smile. “This time, you rule.”

===

taglist (join here): @harrington-ofhawkins @comedy-witch @gothackedalready@wolfish-willow @sassisaluxury @willowrose99 @harringtown @write-from-the-heart @m-blasterrr @whimsicalwoodlands @anerroroccurrrrred @marvels-gurl @the-almond-dinger @ssanjuniperoo @darth-el @sourapplebaby @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @andyl394 @astil-be @troop-scoop@ilovebucketbarnes@mybestfriendthedingus @unknownherelm @metuel18@magnitude101999@simplesammyx @lukeskisses @stevenismyboy @dungeons-and-demodogs @scoopsahcy @strangest-hour @lucifer-reads @stevexscoops

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington oneshot

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ratsoh-writes · 3 years

Text

I would like a match up please! I’m a kindness soul, so I’m your average mom/therapy friend. I’m an introvert with extroverted tendencies. So like at a party I’m gonna have to brought my own stuff to do. But if someone pops over to say hi, I’m chatting up a storm. I’m a pretty happy person around people, though social anxiety makes me more quiet. I’m really creative so I’m down to play fun games a lot. Though I also like parallel play. I do have to pull away and take a breather from all the fun, and I’m prone to get depressed when I leave, because of the social anxiety. Also worth mentioning I (am almost 100% certain with the research I’ve done) have undiagnosed ADHD. I have a ton of crafty hobbies! I can sew some clothes, and make quilts, cross stitch, embroidery, traditional drawing and digital, I know some paper crafts, and can make those knotted friendship bracelets. Oh yeah and I like painting! So just about anything crafty. Oh! And I can bake and cook, though that usually ends up tasting good, but with a mess. Heheh. I need my boundaries, and I’m Ace so less of that the better. As for likes, I’m not really picky, just got to love me haha For my strengths, I’m pretty patient, and willing to give more chances, and always happy to help where I can. As for flaws, I’m pretty forgetful, I trust easily, I am a clutz, and am prone to breakdowns every now and then. I also have selective mutism. So when I get really really stressed out, I’ll sometimes go mute. Best way to break me back out is to talk gently and not push, and I’ll come back around. Yelling makes it much worse, so gotta be willing to help me out. As for physical, I’m 5’2”, so decently short, on the fluffy side, short wavy brown hair, pale, and prone to blushing. Pretty much looks like I wouldn’t hurt a fly. (And I wouldn’t!) Hope this isn’t too much! Have a good day!

Alrighty, your matchup will be under the cut

This was an easy one for me! You fit a good handful of the guys

Let’s match you with………..WILLOW (horrortale papyrus)!

Lol, I know this was kinda obvious matching the crafty mom friend with the other crafty mom friend, but you have a lot of traits that willow looks for in a SO. You’re someone who enjoys being with others but knows their limits. You’re also eager to be helpful and are pretty patient with your loved ones. Those are things that willow appreciates a lot

For you, I can see this being a very comfortable relationship. You and willow have a ton of common interests and are both mutually supportive. You’ll feel very safe with him ;)

Crafty dates, crafty dates, crafty dates! Should I say it more? Y’all are going to have some serious spring cleaning to do each year with all the artsy junk you two stuffed in the attic.

Willow likes being with people but also tires out easily. You’ll be feeling a lot less guilty about leaving parties earlier with him. He makes a good excuse and doesn’t mind being used as one

And normally I don’t comment on the appearance part in these matchups unless it’s for a tie breaker. But I will say this, he friggin loves how short you are ;))) if you’re ever feeling like you need some attention, wear one of his shirts. It flusters him every time

For your other choices, you could’ve worked with oak, rust, noir, lilac and basil lol. You’re a horror magnet

#matchups #horrortale

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prinxlyart · 4 years

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just any individual toh character hc would SLAP. mebbe ur thoughts on the twins idk this is vague

Nah it’s cool, I can dig it let’s do this

I only put this under a line break cuz it got so long oops lol

Emira:

Defo has a stutter that she went through a lot of intensive and grueling speech therapy sessions for (when she was about 7 years old) that she hated. Amity and Edric both know this and know it’s a sensitive topic for her. They’ll tease her lightly about it, but never in front of anyone else and they know where to draw the line. In my last Vinera post, I mentioned how much Viney adores her stutter. She absolutely loves getting Emira flustered enough to start stuttering. She’s incredibly patient and understanding when it comes to Emira’s stutter and Em’s feelings about her stutter, and she helps Emira learn to be okay with it again. It’s nothing to be ashamed of (and it’s cute).

My girl likes carrots. Like, really likes carrots. As in she’ll eat them straight out of the ground if she’s given a chance to wash it first. She really loves carrots. This is only an issue later on after she and Viney start taking care of beasts together and Emira’s been caught eating their entire stock of carrots that’s meant for the beasts. Viney has to keep the carrots in a secret box away from Emira after that point.

Emira actually really loves beasts/animals but has never been good at handling them. Any time she’d try to approach an animal to pet it, it would try to bite her. She’d get extremely pouty whenever this happens because beasts/animals love Edric. It’s not until after she and Viney start dating that Viney actually starts teaching her how to approach different creatures and her love for creatures reignites.

Emira’s a giant pushover for Amity. Only Edric knows this because he’s also a pushover for her. If Amity ever found out what power she actually holds over them, they’d be in so much trouble. They mask their love for their sister with constant teasing. Yes of course they get annoyed by her, that’s how siblings are, especially when Amity tattles on them, but at the end of the day, they’d help Amity hide the body if she asked. (The few times they witnessed her crying by someone other than their parents, they had gone on a warpath. Nobody hurts Mittens.)

Defo had a brief infatuation with Luz for like 5 minutes before she realized how head-over-heels Amity was. As long as they’re both happy, that’s what matters. She’ll take that secret to her grave though.

L O V E S having her hair played with, but like, only with people she’s super comfortable with. She has so much hair (mostly due to her mother’s wishes) and any time they all have attend some fancy gathering, Emira has to be seen by a stylist in order to get all her hair into whatever wild fancy shape her mom wants for the event. That she hates more than life itself, but whenever she’s upset, Edric or Amity grabs her hair brush and just gently brushes her hair out until she’s chill again. (She absolutely melts when Viney starts playing with her hair). In an act of defiance and because she needed this Change, the moment she and her siblings leave the Blight Manor permanently, she cuts off all of her hair. It’s very reminiscent of Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday. Viney loves it. Everyone loves it actually, but the biggest reactions come from Viney and Luz (they both love running their fingers through the newly cut hair because it’s so soft).

She likes to sing to herself when she’s alone. It’s rare that it ever happens because if she knows there’s other people in the same building as her, she won’t chance it. But when she knows she’s alone and no one will notice if she casts a silence bubble around herself so she can sing at the top of her lungs? You better believe she closes any doors or curtains in the area, locks everything, casts that spell and goes nuts. Her voice isn’t all that great, but it’s lovely when she’s singing quietly to herself while she does homework or something. On especially bad nights, Amity will ask her to sing to her. Emira sang to her once when they were like, 3 and 5 respectively, and it’s been their secret thing ever since for especially rough nights/nightmares.

Edric:

Yknow how James from Pokémon is just super good with Pokémon ?? Like, he knows how to treat them, he knows what they like, he asks them gently if they’d like to join them, etc. That’s exactly how Edric approaches creatures. He’s a natural with them, but he and his sister’s natural affinity for illusion magic kept him from pursuing that track of magic.

He’s always wanted a pet, but every time he brings it up to his parents, he’s met with the same firm No as always. He’s definitely gotten in trouble for trying to sneak wild creatures into the house to keep in his room. Thank Titan for Em’s cool new girlfriend who’s not only a multi-track student, but studying the exact subject he wants to study and is super eager to teach him everything she knows. He learns vicariously through her and helps her study for her tests. At first, Emira is suspicious of them, but she knows her brother wouldn’t be so cruel as to try to steal her girlfriend away from her. He’s just a dork.

My boy’s got a sweet tooth. He loves desserts and sweets and fluffy baked goods and often tries to sneak candies when he thinks no one is looking. Chocolate is a big weakness for him. When Luz introduces him to Human Sweets, he’s practically bouncing off the walls. Cotton candy??????? Flan?????? Dulce de Leche en Tabla??? He nearly passes out when Luz busts out what she calls a “chocolate fountain” and turns it on. Y’all remember that one image of a bird bathing in a chocolate fountain from a million years ago? That’s Edric.

Edric Blight LIVES to see his sisters laugh. He would pull all sorts of silly faces and dumb tricks to make Amity laugh when they were little. He still tries to make her laugh, but usually those have grown from giggles to disgruntled mumbling. He’ll never admit how much it breaks his heart and it’s not until he sees her laughing at something Luz has done that he has hope he may still be able to get her to laugh again (it’s also the first time he’s heard her laugh in years and it makes his heart soar in relief. He was almost certain their parents had stamped any concept of laughter out of her).

My boy Edric is so full of love and passion; actually quite similarly to Luz. What makes them different though is that Edric is Aromantic. He’s never had a crush in his life. He’s happy with his sisters and all of their friends and their family as it grows in the future. He has some best friends that he lives with for a while (after his sisters move in with their respective partners), but for the most part he’s chill. He loves his family, he loves spoiling his sisters’ kids, and he’s content with himself. It takes him a super long time to be content with himself, but he gets there. I will literally never get over the fact that his biggest fear is “being alone forever”. He’s never alone. He will always have his friends and family. And, thanks in large part to Luz, he has his parents back. His parents that actually were excited when he cast his first spell and tucked him in at night when he was a toddler, giving him kisses goodnight and pleasant dreams. Not the parents he’d run away from; those were the cold, uncaring, obsessed with fake concepts of popularity and status people he ran away from with his sisters. It took years, but Luz helped bring his real parents back. He loves getting to know them for who they are now that he’s an adult too.

He and Gus become best friends. Like, dumb buddy cop movie levels of best friends. They get into so much trouble when it’s just the two of them and they have the time of their lives. At first, he and Em just sort of took Gus under their wing because he was a little bit of an outcast in their homeroom for being so much younger than everyone else. But he’s a friend of Luz’s and a friend of Amity’s after a while, which automatically makes him cool in their book. They soon find themselves actually enjoying his company, rather than just protecting him from stray bullies, and they find his ability with illusion magic exciting. They themselves are considered prodigies so having another prodigy to show off practice with is super stimulating for all of them. As the years go on (and Emira spends more time with Viney) Edric starts calling more and more often for “Bro Time” where they go do stupid teenage stuff or test the limits of their magic or even just hang out and talk for hours. It’s actually all this time hanging out with just Gus that Edric discovers he’s aro; somehow it comes out that Gus has developed a crush on Edric and (major age differences aside) Edric realizes he’s never had a crush on anyone before. It’s a conversation that sucks a lot, but they’re besties and they manage to get through it. Gus maybe needs to take a day with his original gal pals to just cry about it, but he gets over it just fine. He also helps Edric understand what it means to be aromantic. Well, with the help of Luz and Willow as well; Luz is a walking dictionary for lgbt terminology and Willow’s super good at helping dissect feelings (when they’re not her own cough’outofsightoutofmind’cough).

I genuinely don’t know what he might pursue for a career. Part of me wants him to be independent and do his own thing, but a much stronger part of me wants him to just be part of Viney as Emira’s business. He loves creatures so much and he loves taking care of them, but I don’t want him to feel like a third wheel around his twin sister either. Maybe he becomes a dual track teacher at Hexside specifically for healing and beast keeping so more students can learn about Service Creatures. He can substitute for the Illusion track homeroom when needed, but he’s super passionate about the Service Creature sub-track he and Viney pitch to Principal Bump.

#prinxly inquiries #anonymous #the owl house #emira blight #edric blight #toh headcanons #I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings about these two

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queenxxxsupreme · 4 years

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Sorry you’re not feeling well love!!! Hope you get to feeling better soon :) for the fluffiness, how about softe eskel time where he’s washing readers hair and they’re just lulling off but then eskel starts humming real low and he doesn’t even really realize it so they just let him keep going and AHHH!!!!! I just love him so much 😂

A/N: I definitely didn’t mean to turn this into a 2.5k fic😂 but I combined the two cause it just sorta.... happened? This is from the soft fics for Eskel, Dettlaff, and Regis that I received yesterday!

Warnings: nudity?? a bath?? but just complete fluffiness and softness for my baby Eskel

You peered out of the window, searching what you could see of the large field behind your home. Your eyes scanned the green grass, searching for your witcher.

The sun had nearly vanished behind the trees. A cool breeze took the place of the warm sun. Crickets and cicadas chirped while other nocturnal creatures began to rustle around. Soon it would be dark.

You sighed softly, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you debated on going to find Eskel. He’d been out in the field tending to the small herd of farm animals you raised. There were five goats, two babies and three adults, two calves, a grumpy old donkey, a young sheep, and a mare. You were usually busy taking care of them, but Eskel insisted he could handle it for the day. He said you deserved to relax, to calm down. That was easier said than done.

It was only his second day home and you wanted to relax with him. However, you knew he needed to adjust to his surroundings, to switch his mindset from a nomadic witcher to a domestic man with the one he loved. He needed to loosen up. He didn’t want to make you feel on edge because he couldn’t put his swords down for longer than five minutes because he was fearful that something would happen.

You knew he adjusted to being back home by tending to the animals. They had a way of calming him, of grounding him. They reminded him that your home, his home, was safe and that he’d not be in harm’s way on your land.

You let out a little breath and decided to at least go check on him. The last time you had gone to see how he was, it was just after noon. Now with sundown just a few minutes away, you knew you’d feel better if you went to make sure he was okay.

You left your home, not bothering to put on shoes.

***

By the time you found him, it was dark. He was on the farthest side of the field from your home sitting beneath a weeping willow. The baby goats were laying squished between his legs while the adults were on the outside of his legs. One baby calf was curled up against his side while the other was laying by his feet as close to the baby goats as possible. The donkey, sheep, and mare were standing not too far away, curiously watching you.

Eskel heard you long before he saw you. He could hear your quiet steps, the sound of grass beneath your bare feet. The hem of your skirt was pulled every now and again by a weed and you’d tug it carefully to release it.

You stopped a little ways away from him, offering him a soft smile. Thankfully, you could see him with the light given off by the full moon. His features were darkened from shadows and if you didn’t know him, he would look intimidating. But he was your witcher, your gentle giant.

“How are you feeling?” You asked him, messing with the hem of your shirt. You hated to bother him, to mess with him when he was trying to get into the right headspace, but sometimes you worried so much about him that you couldn’t help it.

“Okay.” He answered quietly, casting his gaze down to the goat in his lap. His large hand rested on its back, gently brushing through its coarse hair. “I’m sorry I’ve been away the last two days.”

“Don’t apologize.” You shook your head. “I understand.”

He said nothing.

You let the silence fill the space between you for a few moments.

“Would you like me to leave you be?” You asked, your voice timid and hesitant.

“Doll, you know I never want you to leave.” He spoke, letting out a soft breath.

“But I know you need this.” Your eyes flickered around the empty field. “If you need more time, I’ll leave. I need you to be okay, and this…. This makes you okay.”

The corner of his scarred lips turned up just a little. He was thankful you were patient with him. That’s all he needed. Someone who was patient and cared enough to grant him his space when he needed it.

“I love you, doll.”

Your heart fluttered.

“I love you, Eskel.”

He looked back down to the goat in his lap.

“I’m ready to go to bed.” He stated, his words a quiet murmur.

You smiled.

“Okay. Do you want to walk back with me?”

He nodded.

You stood to your feet and allowed him to move to you. One large arm wrapped around your waist, drawing you into his side as you both started to walk back towards your home.

One by one, the animals followed.

***

“I’ll go start a bath. How does that sound?” You asked, placing your hand on his arm as the both of you stopped just outside of the barn.

“Good.” He nodded.

“You won’t be long, will you?”

“Not at all.” He shook his head, tired eyes finding yours. You could see it in his golden gaze, see the haziness, see the shadows left behind by a troubled soul.

You gave him a tender smile, fighting the urge to kiss him before leaving.

You turned to go to your house but thick, calloused fingers wrapped around your wrist. You were pulled back to him, into his arms. They wrapped tightly around you, encasing you in warmth. He buried his nose in your hair, inhaling deeply. You closed your eyes, leaning into him. His hand rubbed your back.

He breathed out, trembling just slightly. You felt him kiss the top of your head. You wanted nothing more than to kiss him back, to let him know how you felt for him. But you didn’t want to spook him.

He finally released you, taking a few steps backwards. You smiled at him. He returned the gesture before turning to go into the barn.

***

You drew a bath with what little magic you were comfortable using. Even after the large tub had been filled with hot water, Eskel had yet to come in from the barn.

You changed into a thin bodice that fell to about your knees. You waited on the edge of the tub, brushing your fingers over the surface of the water.

The sound of the front door opening made you lift your head up, eyes finding the door.

Soon, your witcher entered the room. He no longer carried a sword on his back, and he had taken off his boots.

Silently, you stood up and moved to him. He watched you, yellow eyes curious.

“Can I help you?” Your eyes fell to the laces on the chest of his tunic.

With his nod, you worked to gently unlace his top, slowly revealing more and more of his chest. As the shirt fell open in a deep V, you leaned forward to kiss a scare that stretched across the top of his left peck.

As you took a hold of the hem of his tunic, he lifted his arms, allowing you to pull the clothing from him.

You let the top fall to the floor.

He leaned his head forward, resting his forehead on yours as you started to unlace his trousers. His eyes closed and he let out a warm breath that fanned over your face.

He surprised you by tenderly kissing your lips. It was chaste and his touch didn’t linger, but you were okay with it. Now wasn’t the time for heated making out. Now was the time to get Eskel calm enough so that he could rest tonight since he didn’t the night before.

You moved away from him as he took off his trousers. You went to the tub, dipping your fingers in to test the water. It was still hot, but you wanted to warm it up more. Reciting a spell under your breath, you felt the heat in your fingertips first, then with a flick of your wrist, the heat was directed to the water.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Eskel told you.

“And have you got into a cold bath?” You cocked a brow. “No way.”

“I could’ve done it.”

He knew how much you hated using magic, how you much preferred to do things on your own, the way a normal human would.

“It’s okay.” You assured him. “Come on.” You patted the side of the tub.

“Will you get in with me?”

“If you’d like.” You nodded.

He slipped into the tub, letting out a breath and releasing some of the tension that stiffened his muscles.

You got in behind him, not bothering to take off your bodice. You sat on the stone edge of the tub, your knees parted so he could settle between them with his back to you.

Your hands came up to his shoulders, working the thick muscles there as best as you could.

“Doll, you don’t-,”

“But I want to.” You softly cut him off, pausing the massage for a moment so you could lean down to his ear. “Let me do this for you, Eskel.” You kissed the space behind his ear. “Okay?”

He nodded, leaning back against you just a little.

As you worked at loosening up his shoulders, you leaned forward every now and again to kiss his warm, tanned skin.

Once you were content with his shoulders, you moved to pull the band out of his hair. The short dark locks fell to rest on his shoulders.

“Can I wash your hair, love?” You asked him, resting your hand between his shoulder blades.

He nodded once more.

You reached beyond the tub to retrieve the mug you’d brought into the bathing room specifically for getting his hair wet.

You dunked it into the water and then carefully poured it on to his head.

With you sitting behind him, you didn’t have a good judgement of wear to pour the water so you accidentally poured it right on the top of his head. This soaked his hair immediately, but also pushed his dark hair into his face.

“Oh my- Eskel! I’m so sorry!” You tried not to laugh as you moved around him.

“It’s okay, doll.” He assured you, chuckling softly as you brushed his wet hair from his face.

He wore a gentle smile on his lips.

“I didn’t mean to do that.” You told him, brushing his hair back a little more.

“It’s okay.”

You smiled and picked up a chunk of soap sitting on the stone edge of the tub. You lathered your hands up so they were nice and soapy, then you began to work the soap into Eskel’s hair, careful to avoid his eyes.

With him facing you, he didn't bother closing his eyes. Instead, he watched you.

You smiled just a little, gently scratching his scalp with your blunt fingertips.

“You’re blushing.” He stated, pulling one hand from the water to reach out and touch your cheek. The pad of his thumb was warm and gentle as he swiped it across the apple of your cheek.

“Because you’re watching me.”

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” His voice became quiet and his brows drew together.

“No, no. Just…. Nervous is all.” You explained, shaking your head softly.

He nodded as best as he could while you lathered his hair up with the sweet smelling soap.

“You’re concentrating really hard.” He teased a little.

“Because I don’t want to get soap in your eyes.”

He chuckled softly.

Once you were satisfied with the amount of soap and bubbles in his hair, you picked up the mug and instructed him to tilt his head back.

Much more carefully this time, you poured the water of his hair. You repeated the action a few times, raking your fingers through the soaking strands to make sure you got all of the soap out.

“Can I do yours next?” Eskel asked, brushing one hand over his hair to squeeze out the excess water.

“If you’d like.” You nodded.

“Sit on my knee.” He said.

You nodded and settled down on his knee. You tilted your head back a little but the water came down quicker than you expected.

You gasped, not expecting to be soaked that quickly.

“Oops.” Eskel did his best to bite back the grin on his lips.

You looked over your shoulder at him, pouting.

“That was on purpose.”

“I love you.” He leaned forward to kiss the top of your shoulder.

You get better knowing that he was slowly coming back to you, that he was transitioning. Once in a great while, it would take him days to settle down when he returned home to you. Those times always worried you. You feared he’d leave and never come back.

You turned back around so he could wash your hair properly. He was careful with you, not wanting to hurt you or accidentally pull your hair. You leaned into him more than you probably should’ve, but he didn’t mind.

He noticed the way you slowly started to slump against him, to use him for support. From the sound of your heart rate slowing, he could guess that you were falling asleep.

He began to hum to himself, needing to fill the silence.

Just as he finished rinsing out your hair, you started to lose your balance on his knee.

“Easy, doll.” He placed his hands on your hips when you jolted awake.

“Eskel?” You muttered sleepily, rubbing your eyes.

“You’re tired, doll.” He easily lifted you up so you were on your feet and then stood up behind you. “Let’s get out and get into some warm clothes.”

You nodded and started to get out of the tub. You retrieved a clean towel from the stool nearby and passed it to Eskel. Your soaking wet bodice was discarded, left to hang over the back of a chair.

You took the second towel and wrapped yourself in it, then you took Eskel’s hand and guided him back to the bedroom.

You parted ways, but only because you both needed clothes. You tugged on a pair of undergarments and then a large tunic that fit you rather loosely. It was Eskel’s at one point but you’d stolen it from him.

You dried your hair with the towel as best as you could, then climbed into bed.

Eskel was right behind you, slipping underneath the blankets and quilts, seeking out warmth.

You settled on your side facing him. One of your arms was folded beneath your head while your opposite hand came up to his chest.

“Will you hum to me again?” You asked him quietly, peeking up at him through your lashes.

“Of course.” He nodded, urging you to move closer to him with a hand on your back.

You scooted closer to him, tucking your nose into his chest.

“I love you, Eskel.”

“Love you too, doll.” He kissed your damp hair before he began to hum, the pleasant noise lulling you to sleep.

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#eskel x reader #eskel fluff #the witcher #eskel witcher #the witcher fluff #kacey answers #fluff ask #1200 followers celebration

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mandoalorian · 4 years

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Spooky Movie Night [Javi Gutierrez x Reader]

Summary – It’s Halloween and Javi Gutierrez loves to celebrate different seasonal holidays in his own special way. He plans a spooky surprise before you both settle down and watch one of his favourite Nic Cage horror movies.

Pairing – Gender neutral reader x Javi Gutierrez (No Y/N)

Warnings – mentions of general spooky Halloween themes but nothing too detailed, food and drink, mild spoilers (not really) about Javi’s character. Overall just a super sweet and fluffy one shot.

Word count – 1.8k

A/N: Okay I read the script for The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent and AAAA! I actually… really liked it. One thing to come from it is my undeniable love for Pedro Pascal’s character, Javi Gutierrez. So here we are. It’s nearing Halloween and after a short break, I couldn’t help but pop out a semi-spooky but cute and fluffy one shot for Javi. I really hope you enjoy.

It was the evening of October 31st, and a cold evening at that. You had never really celebrated Halloween but you knew that traditions would quickly change when you moved in with Javi. He loved celebrating seasonal festivities in any which way he could. Last Easter, he invited his whole family over and planned an egg-hunt, even having his hench bodyguard Carlos dress as the Easter bunny. Of course, Javi told you it was to please his young niece’s and nephew’s, but the smile on his face when a hopping Carlos granted Javi with a chocolate egg ignited a feeling inside you that you had never felt before. Javier Gutierrez was as sweet as sugar, precious, and unlike any man you had ever met before. There was not an air of toxicity to Javi Gutierrez and you knew that everything he done for you, he done with good intentions. He had the purest of hearts.

After finishing dinner, you couldn’t shake the icy feeling that hung above you and so you announced you’d be taking a bath, wanting to get ready for the horror movie marathon Javi had prepared for you both to watch later that night. You’d already set out your pyjamas and even noticed Javi had folded them neatly for you, placing them at the end of his bed. You grabbed Javi’s lighter from his bedside drawer and picked out some of your favourite fall scented candles, carrying them to the bathroom. The walk to the bathroom felt scary. The amber light at the end of the hallway was flickering, and as you dragged your bare feet across the carpet, you left yourself a mental note to ask Carlos to change the bulb. Almost reaching the bathroom, you gasped at the shadow which had been casted from the flickering light. It was an unusual shape… ghost-like, a silhouette that hovered over you. If you blinked, you would’ve missed it. Deciding it was just your mind playing games on you, you tried shaking the feeling and entered the bathroom.

You placed two candles on the window sill and light them, engulfing the smell of seasonal cinnamon and baked apples. After twisting the antique gold taps, you made yourself comfortable on the edge of the white marbled tub, legs crossed, and swirled your fingers in the warm bubbly water, absorbing the soapy citrus scent. It was Javi’s soap but you needed something to put yourself at ease and figured bathing in Javi’s scent was a good idea; so, you poured the remnants of it in the running water. The heat of the water began to steam up the glass shower screen, so you took your index finger, and began doodling pumpkins and ghouls, waiting for your bath to fill up. You smiled a little, leaning back and admiring your artwork when the bathroom door burst open.

“Boo!” Javi cried out, his hands in the air. You took a second to take him in; a white bed sheet hanging over his body, smothering his face and two messy holes cut out the fabric exposing his deep chocolate eyes. You gasped, almost falling back into the tub when Javi jolted forward, grabbing your arm and pulling you to safety. You grabbed on to him and yanked the bed sheet off him, throwing it into a puddle on the floor. Your heart was racing, and Javi looked equally as petrified. “I’m so sorry!” He exclaimed anxiously as nerves raced through his body. His dumb joke had you almost fall back into the bath tub. He felt so guilty. You could’ve really hurt yourself.

You froze up, holding on to him and hesitated after you were sure you had regained your balance. “Javi,” you spoke softly, raising your hand and cupping his cheek. He nuzzled his face into the palm of your hand. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“I just wasn’t thinking. Wanted to scare you, for Halloween,” he shrugged helplessly looking defeated.

“Well, mission success. Consider me scared.” you smiled at him and you swore you saw a spark in his eyes. You straightened the collar of his brown button down shirt and pulled him into another passionate kiss. He kneeled to your level, not breaking the contact, and wrapped his arms around your waist. You were the first to break away. “You gonna let me take my bath in peace now?” You joked, still a little breathless. Javi nodded, leaning over you and turning off the running water. You stood up and began to undress yourself, letting your clothes fall on the floor and checking the temperature of the water before you settled on it being just right. Javi took your clothes in his arms and bent over, picking up the white bed sheet that had pooled on to the floor. On his way out of the bathroom, he felt his heart flutter at the sight of you engulfed in the bubbles, eyes closed. He noticed your little Halloween doodles on the glass shower screen and took the opportunity to draw a heart with yours and his initials inside. Javi left the bathroom with his hands full of laundry.

You couldn’t let yourself fall asleep in the bath. Not this evening. You kept yourself awake by thinking of the spooky themed activities Javi had in store for you tonight. The truth is, you couldn’t stand horror movies, and Javi didn’t know this. You refrained from telling him because you knew how excited he was to watch Nic Cage’s 2006 rendition of the horror flick ‘The Wicker Man’ with you. He had been walking around the house all morning, quoting it. You even caught him pointing at an orange, whispering eerily at it, doing his best Nic Cage impersonation. Holding back a laugh, you approached him from behind and wrapped your arms around him. “What ya’ doing Javi?” You sung, almost teasingly. He jumped at your touch, almost dropping the orange.

“Nothing.” he replied to you, his voice a little thicker than usual. Your lips curved into a smile as you realised he was trying to get his voice back to normal-Javi, rather than his adorkable Nicolas Cage impression. You didn’t push him further. You didn’t want to embarrass him, so instead, you pressed a kiss into his cheek and felt his skin heat into a blush. Pulling away, you were greeted with Javi’s enormous grin. “Are you excited? For, you know. Tonight. The movie marathon I have planned. You know I think you’ll really like it.”

You contemplated taking Javi to one side and asking him if he’d rather watch the Nic Cage rom-com, Valley Girl with you instead. But took a deep breath and smiled back at him. “I can’t wait.” You assured him and it was as if his grin got even bigger. Taking the orange from his hand, you walked to the kitchen counter and began to peel it, pulling out the segments and feeding yourself and Javi as you let him babble on to you about movie trivia.

“And you know, Winona Ryder turned down the role as Willow because she hated the script!” As Javi rambled on, you skilfully through an orange segment into his open mouth. He swallowed it whole, making you giggle, before continuing. “I mean- I just can’t imagine hating anything that Nicolas Cage is part of.”

After your bath, you wrapped a towel around your head and slipped in to your cosy pyjamas before meeting Javi in the living room. It was dark, only the television screen illuminating the room. He was waiting for you, and had the movie all set-up, ready to play. On the coffee table, Javi had sprawled out left over candy from the trick-or-treaters, and two goblets of- “Javi, what’s in the cups?” you asked quizzically, pointing at the still red liquid.

“Blood.” Javi grinned at you. You raised an eyebrow before raising the goblet and taking a sip. You smiled into the cup before pulling it away, licking the sweet but sticky residue of cherry soda from your lips. Javi’s jaw dropped. “You drunk it! How could you drink it?” Javi exclaimed. “I told you it was blood!”

“Where would you get blood from?” You laughed at Javi’s cute reaction before sinking down next to him on the sofa and wrapping a blanket over you both.

“You smell nice,” Javi hummed.

You looked up at him. “It’s your soap.” You smiled.

“I know.” Javi returned the smile.

Javi took the remote and pressed play on the movie. You both settled down. The movie was hard to follow, but maybe that’s because you were so distracted by watching Javi. You knew when an intense scene would follow, because Javi would instinctly hunch over and try get closer to the television screen. You’d watch him for minutes, and he was so engulfed into the movie, there was moments you thought he had forgotten to blink. You admired the way he knew it line by line and the way he’d recite random facts about the movie’s production during the less interesting bits. Watching movies with Javi was always an experience, but watching movies with him this Halloween was like no other. There wasn’t a single thing you would change about Javi. He was perfect in his own unique way.

You let out your fifth yawn of the night and Javi turned the television off. “Hey, Jav,” you mumbled tiredly, rubbing your eyes. “What ya doing? Movie… movie wasn’t finished.” Another yawn. Javi let out a chuckle, pushing your damp hair out of your face and standing up. This time, Javi gently tugged the blanket from you and pushed his arms under you before sweeping you off your position on your sofa and carrying you in his arms. You let out a cry and buried yourself into his chest. “Javi!”

“Bed time,” he said. You couldn’t see his face but you were certain you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“But the movie-“ you began to protest.

“We can finish it next Halloween.” Javi promised and you were far too tired to argue with him.

Javi gently tucked you into his bed, placing a kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes and felt yourself fall into a slumber. Javi undressed himself and turned out the lights. You stirred slightly when you felt him climb into next to you.

“I love you Javi,” you whispered.

“I love you too.” Javi replied.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #javi gutierrez #javi gutierrez x reader #The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent #halloween

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