#owl my beloved I’ve missed you so

[ow-anteater]

*judges the health and popularity of the overwatch league by how many videos of cute birds I have to scroll past when I simply search ‘owl’ on youtube*

#overwatch #owl #overwatch league #owl my beloved I’ve missed you so

[dreamcubed]

more than a woman 2 | oliver wood x reader

song; more than a woman [bee gees] pairing; oliver wood x fem!ravenclaw!reader genre; established relationship, long distance(ish), fluff, light angst word count; 3,1k timeline; goblet of fire —> order of the phoenix warnings; swearing, relationship insecurities, one argument (gets resolved) summary; you were forced to endure one year of hogwarts without your beloved oliver, so how would that affect your relationship?

masterlist

parts: || one | two ||

“more than a woman to me.”

———————————————

Honestly, it was a good thing that Oliver wasn't at school for the Triwizard Tournament: Merlin knows you wouldn't have heard the end of him complaining about quidditch being cancelled. Still, you missed him, and it was certainly strange not hearing quidditch even mentioned once.

In the one and a half years that you had been together, the marriage joke had persisted, primarily thanks to the relentless Weasley twins. You figured your husband being long distance would be easier to deal with due to the mass amounts of work that NEWTs required. Obviously, you expected yourself to achieve good grades: you weren't a Ravenclaw for nothing. But good grades in the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests were difficult for even the most intelligent of people.

"Poor you," Chloe mocked at dinner during the first week of seventh year, "How will you ever survive without your other half?"

"Fuck off, Smith," you chided, scooping pasta on to your plate, "At least I have another half."

She rolled her eyes at you.

"You seeing him at Christmas?"

"I doubt it," you sighed, "I still want to see my family and his schedule is pretty packed."

"That's what you get for marrying a quidditch athlete."

You didn't bother correcting anyone anymore, and honestly, you didn't want to.

***

A weekly letter via owl was nothing compared to Oliver Wood in the flesh: you felt as if you had been starved all year of the one person you wanted to see the most. If only his quidditch team allowed enough free time for him to visit Hogsmeade so you could meet up, but it didn't, so you had been deprived.

You couldn't help but grow anxious as the Hogwarts Express grew closer to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, even thought Chloe said everything she could to reassure you.

What if he had fallen out of love in your time apart?

What if he wouldn't be excited to see you?

Sure, his letters to you over the last few weeks had contained nothing but enthusiasm over your coming reunion, but you couldn't help but wonder if he was waiting to break it to you in person.

The train came to a halt.

"Y/N, Y/N," Chloe said firmly, "There is no universe in which that man could fall out of love with you. Trust me, you mean more to him than quidditch."

"But, what if-"

"Look, there he is," she cut you off, pointing out the window at the man stood on the platform amongst the parents. One of his hands held a bouquet of fresh red roses, while the other hung at his side with the fingers playing nervously with each other.

Then, his eyes locked with yours, and all your worries melted away as your lips stretched into a massive grin. You ran out of the compartment and began shoving past people to get to the exit, almost barrelling into the conductor as you jumped on to the platform.

Oliver stood watching you with his grin matching yours, already opening his arms in preparation for what was about to happen. You jumped into them, almost knocking him over with the force in which you did it. You kissed him with the same force, like you had wanted to do for the last year so very desperately.

"I've missed you so much, lass," he said through heavy breaths after your kiss ended, "I've been going insane."

"I've missed you too," you replied, tightening your hold around him even more, "Have you gotten stronger?" You felt his bicep.

He gave you another toothy smile, "Aye. Didn't have a choice, the training regime is strict."

"Good to see you back with your husband," you heard Chloe say, and turned to see her pulling along not just her trunk, but yours as well.

"Ah, about that," Oliver said, dropping you from his hold and taking your trunk from Chloe, "It's about time we made it official, don't you think?"

Shock formed on your face.

"Don't look so surprised, lass, I've already waited two and a half years."

"Godric, this is so romantic," Chloe said sarcastically, making you roll your eyes at her. "Seriously, not even a ring."

"Ah ah ah," Oliver smirked, digging around in his pocket before pulling out a black velvet box.

"Get down on one knee in public and I will slaughter you," you quickly said, "Please don't bring attention to us."

He laughed, "Relax, relax, I won't. Here," he opened the box and presented it to you, "Will you officially become my wife, lass?"

You nodded, darting forward to wrap your arms around his chest again. "Of course I will, you stupid fucking quidditch man."

He smiled wider than you knew possible.

***

"This is my- our- flat," he said, presenting the space to you, "Obviously if you don't like it, we can move, but it's where I've been for a year."

"I like it," you said, "Although I want to make it less yours and more ours."

He nodded, "Do whatever you want with it, I'm not home much."

"Will I still not get to see you that often?" you slightly pouted.

Oliver pulled you in for a kiss, "I will be home as much as I can, lass, but professional quidditch is very demanding."

You had known that this was how life with Oliver would be, but it still made you sad.

"We need to tell our parents about the engagement," you changed the subject.

"They've been treating us like we're married for years," he chuckled, "So have our friends."

"Still, we should tell them, your mother hasn't stopped going on about me being her daughter-in-law as soon as possible in all the letters she's sent me."

"You talk to my mum?"

"Yes, Ollie, I talk to your mum. Believe it or not, I want to a foster a good relationship with my future mother-in-law."

"My priorities lie with my future nan-in-law."

"You thirsting over my nan?"

"Perhaps."

You scoffed, "Can't believe I've been replaced by an old hipster."

"Don't talk about Grace like that!"

You both broke out in laughter.

"Godric, I've missed you, lass," he sighed, "Never be away from me for that long again."

"Trust me, I don't plan on it."

***

It was difficult at first, living with Oliver and his jam-packed quidditch schedule, and there were many nights where you ate alone in front of the muggle television you had insisted on installing. But, as time faded away, you got used to it - it wasn't like Oliver was neglecting you, after all. On his days off, mornings off, nights off, etc., he would spend every waking second doting over you. Plus, on his full working days, when he got back so late you were already in bed, you couldn't help but relish in how he snuggled up to you immediately and muttered, "I love you so much," even though he was under the impression you were asleep.

The wedding planning took up a lot of your shared free time, despite the fact you were only planning on a small ceremony in his parents' garden. There were still the caterers, the dress, the suit, the cake, the rings, and so much more to sort out. It was stressful, yet you enjoyed it, as it meant furthering your relationship with Oliver.

You couldn't live without him.

***

You stared at the cold plates of food on the table, the steam that had been billowing off them having long disappeared along with your excitement. A heat retaining spell would have been easy, but for some reason that felt like giving in - to what, you didn't know. Instead, you sat in the corner of the room, on the floor, fiddling with your engagement ring. You wish you could say that you weren't crying.

It's just that - Oliver had promised that he would be home for dinner by six, he had sworn. The clock in the kitchen was ticking past eight and there was still not even a word from him.

Part of you was worried: what it something had happened to him?

Part of you was angry: he couldn't even let you know that he was running late?

Part of you was fed up: you should have expected this outcome.

The door opened, but you didn't look towards the man entering.

"Hey, love, I'm really sorry I'm late."

You didn't reply.

"Love?" he looked around, as he had spoken assuming you were in the main room - which you were, but hidden from his view. Once he walked past the table to head to the bedroom, you appeared in his peripheral, and he then quickly moved towards you.

You refused to look at him.

"Lass, please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you."

"Why?"

He hummed in confusion.

"Why were you late?"

"Coach changed his mind about the evening off 'cause we have a last-minute practice match this weekend."

"He shouldn't be allowed to do that."

"I know, but-"

"Did all your teammates just accept it? Let it happen?"

"Well, no, I suppose Rodnickel did leave-"

"Why didn't you then?"

Oliver sighed, "Rodnickel had to get home to his two small kids who would've been unsupervised otherwise."

"You had to get home to me." You were aware you were being a bit unreasonable, but you were exhausted.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, "Believe me, I wish coach saw that as a good enough excuse."

You sighed, admitting defeat.

"So, what did my gorgeous fiancée make for dinner?"

"It's cold now," you mumbled.

"Nothing a little magic can't fix," he winked at you, pulling out his wand to cast a reheating spell. Once steam was billowing off the delicacies once more, Oliver breathed in deeply through his nose and exclaimed, "Smells delicious, my love."

He pulled out your chair for you.

Fuck, you couldn't stay mad at him long.

***

In your opinion, the cosy cottage that Oliver had grown up in had been the obvious choice for the wedding location: it provided a beautiful view of the Scottish countryside. Therefore, you found yourself getting ready in the guest bedroom of the house, with your grandmother delicately fixing your hair. Not too long ago, Chloe had left the room after finishing the final touches of your makeup to get dressed herself, and ever since you had been sat in silence with your grandmother.

"Getting cold feet?" she asked, breaking the ten-minute silence.

You shook your head. Not in the slightest.

"I wish I'd been that sure on my wedding day."

You met her eyes through the mirror opposite you.

"But, no, you have no reason to be nervous. Oliver is a fine young man, and he loves you a whole lot."

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "It's weird," you finally spoke, "People make out getting married as being such a big deal, but this feels like the most natural thing in the world."

"That's because too many obsess over the rosy idea of getting married and starting a family, without thinking too much about who they're doing that with."

"You think they just settle with the first person who's up for it with them?"

"Yes and no. I do think most spend some time on choice, but at the end of the day, a lot of people jump at the opportunity of marriage when they reach a certain age."

You hummed, "Do you think we're rushing?"

Grace inhaled deeply, leaving a moment of consideration before saying, "No, I don't. You two still wanted each other after living long distance for a year, I think you both know what you're ready for."

Relieved to hear that, you fully grinned, "Thanks, nan," you checked the clock, "The ceremony starts soon, you need to finish getting ready."

"Yes, yes," she dismissed you with a wave of her hand, "I'll see you out there - you look absolutely gorgeous, my love."

You beamed.

***

Rowena, how did Oliver get to be so handsome? You were physically incapable of getting the smile off your face as you raked your eyes over his features: reaching the altar just wouldn't come quick enough.

But eventually you got there.

You passed the bouquet off to Chloe - your maid of honour - before assuming the position opposite Oliver. Briefly, you glanced at the audience of family and friends, and felt nerves ripple within you. They disappeared when your eyes met with your fiancé's, however, and somehow your grin grew even wider.

He looked gorgeous dressed up in the afternoon sun, and he was thinking the exact same about you. It was all you could think about as the wedding officiant began the introductions of the ceremony; you were a nervous wreck thinking about the vows you had so carefully crafted and rehearsed.

Oliver's were to be first.

"As I'm sure you know, quidditch is one of the biggest prides and joys of my life - I don't know who or what I'd be without it. What you may not know is that I'm most grateful to quidditch not for the masses of entertainment it provides me, but for the fact it's how I started talking to you, lass. From the day you insisted on connecting me with one of my role models, I've been undeniably attached to you. I never told you back then, but I think I fell in love with you the moment you first spoke to me - I mean who can blame me? Look at you."

Your heart was racing and you knew you must have looked flustered.

"It wasn't just your appearance, though. Right from the beginning, you've always spoken with such passion, even back when you were shy around me. I know all too well about passion, of course, and I knew it meant that there would never be dull moment around you. And, look, we're three years down the line now, and that prediction is yet to be proved wrong - you're still much more than a woman to me. I can't wait to never prove it wrong during the rest of our lives together. I love you so much, lass, I'm so happy you're now my wife."

The audience applauded his heartfelt words, and as you prepared yourself to say yours, you felt him warmly squeeze your shaking hands.

"Rowena, I- I don't know how to beat that," you began, steadying your voice as you spoke, "You know I had a crush on you long before we even had our first conversation, but I don't think you know how quickly it became love after we did start talking. Merlin knows I wasn't the only one who fancied you, I was far from special in that sense, but I felt special when we played quidditch one-on-one together for the first time. I'd never played it before then, which is surprising to a lot of people, I know, considering who my grandmother is. Truth is, I was always terrified of the sport, yet when it was you asking me I had very little hesitation about throwing my nerves away."

Oliver's face had flushed a light pink.

"And only you can do that to me - make me fearless, that is. Back then it was always more in a 'I can't pass up this opportunity with my crush' kind of way, but nowadays it's more in a 'you give me strength' kind of way, as cheesy as it sounds and as much as I feel weird for saying it. I guess that's what vows are about, though. I love you more than anything, Oliver, I always have and I always will."

As your words finished, the audience began clapping once more.

"So then, do you, Oliver Wood, take Y/N L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, and promise to care for her, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

He didn't hesitate. "I do."

"And do you, Y/N L/N, take Oliver Wood to be your lawfully wedded husband, and promise to care for him, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do." The words didn't feel real: nothing in that moment did. You were struggling to grasp on to reality as you pushed the rings on to each other's fingers.

"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride."

Oliver's lips were on yours in milliseconds, the sweet feeling like honey that you were so familiar with encompassing you. His arms tightened around you as the audience stood up and began cheering, filling you with an unmistakable sense of embarrassment.

But, you know what?

It didn't matter, because you were now married to Oliver - officially.

***

The clinking sound of cutlery against glass echoed amongst the tables, bringing everyone's attention to Chloe, who was sat near your side.

"If I may have everyone's attention, please, I'd like to make a toast to the bride and groom."

Eyes stared at her expectantly.

"I've known Y/N since the very first train ride we took to Hogwarts," she began, "Meaning I've had to hear her going on about Oliver a lot longer than the rest of you."

The typical laughs came in response.

"And Godric knows did she use me to get near him all the time - I can't exactly complain though, as she obviously knew what she was doing. Now, I don't know how many of you are familiar with this, but ever since before they were dating, there's been a running joke that they were already married, so, really, today changes nothing."

Again, laughter.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding - it truly is wonderful to get to celebrate my best friend and ex-quidditch captain's happiness, even if it means being forced to watch them kiss. I love you both, and I wish you a great marriage."

The tables boomed with applause as you smiled your thanks at Chloe, truly feeling as if you couldn't get any happier than that moment. You felt Oliver's hand gripping yours from under the table, and so you turned to look at him to see that his gaze was already on you.

"Hi," you said softly.

"Hi," he replied, grinning whilst his eyes flickered to your lips.

"Uh uh, keep it in your pants til tonight, mister."

He sighed dramatically, "You're lucky I love you."

You chuckled, "I think you'll find that you're lucky I love you."

———————————————

parts: || one | two ||

masterlist

written; 28/09/2022 —> 29/10/2022 published; 29/10/2022 edited; —/—/——

taglist; @workinatdapyramid  @iluvweasleys

#oliver wood #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x you #oliver wood x y/n #ravenclaw reader #light angst #fluff #established relationship #hp oneshot #hp #hp oneshots #harry potter #harry potter oneshot #oliver wood oneshot #hp fanfic #harry potter oneshots #harry potter fanfic #oliver wood fanfic

[sillybucket]

“I will be okay” { Stolas x g/n reader }

Woo my first Tumblr fanfic - I’m a little nervous I’ll admit … my writing skills are painfully mediocre but still I hope this came out at least okay-ish :,)👍

I wanna apologize in advance for the possible ooc moments … I’m admittedly not a professional writer , I barely know what I’m doing sometimes ;_;

Also if someone already wrote something similar , know it’s not my intention to copy anyone !

🍃 Warnings 🍃 : none , this is just pure fluff featuring the reader visiting the owl boyo at the hospital after the events of season 2’s fourth episode … cause dammit , after all he went through he deserves some affection :,I

🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 .

< Your highness ? >

The nurse’s words seemed to bring Stolas back to reality : he turned around to look at her , his tired eyes barely able to stay open …

His encounter with Striker was still very vivid in his mind , and despite his resilience the Prince was feeling completely exhausted after all the hits and wounds he had received …

All he wanted to do was sleep , desperately trying to pretend that all that had happened was nothing but a bad dream , and holding on to the hope that after closing his eyes he would’ve woke up back to his mansion , back to his daughter …

And back to his beloved .

< Yes ? What is it ? >

, he asked , letting out a hiss as his bandaged leg started to hurt after his sudden movement .

< Well , uh , there is a demon out here … they said they want to see you . >

The nurse adjusted her glasses , looking down on a paper she was holding .

< Their name is (y/n) , do you know them ? Should I let them in ? >

Stolas’s eyes widened , and he immediately shifted to a sitting position , ignoring his aching leg and wounds .

< Oh - oh yes ! Please , let them in ! >

His heart beat quickened as he watched the nurse walk out the room : oh , how he longed to see them , to hold them in his arms and feel their comforting warmth …

After a moment the door opened once again , and a familiar demon slowly walked forward , their worried gaze softening as they stared into the Prince’s scarlet eyes …

< Hey sweetie … I’m so glad to see you . >

, they said , approaching the hospital bed and sitting beside him .

Stolas let out a soft little hoot as their hands caressed his cheek , looking at (y/n) with a loving smile .

< Me too , dearest , I’ve … really missed you . >

He kissed the palm of their hand , taking a deep breath …

< I hope I didn’t scare you too much … I can’t imagine how worried you must’ve been , finding out with a sudden text that I was here at the hospital . >

The Prince sighed , looking down at the floor .

< This is nothing to be concerned about , my love … I’m quite tough , I’ll be fine in no time … I’m just sorry I made you come all this way just for me , I hope you weren’t too busy … I do not want to waste your time , so if you have something else to do or somewhere to be you should probabl - >

While he was talking Stolas hadn’t noticed that (y/n) had gotten closer to him , and when they pressed their lips against his he let out a little surprised gasp before closing his eyes , kissing them back while holding them close to him .

When they both pulled away , (y/n) put their hands on his shoulders , careful to avoid touching any of his wounds …

< Stolas , sweetheart … nothing is more important to me than knowing you’re okay . Besides , you should be more worried about yourself : you’re the one who got kidnapped and beat up by a wanted assassin . >

The Prince looked up at them and smiled softly , leaning forward to leave a kiss on their forehead .

< Thank you , (y/n) … it means so much that you care about me . I love you . >

He looked at the pink shades of the sky outside the window , taking a deep breath while holding them in his arms and caressing their hair …

Despite everything that went wrong that day , despite not knowing what was going to happen in the future , Stolas knew that with his beloved starlight by his side he was going to be okay .

🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 .

If you’re reading this , thank you so much for getting to the end of my silly fanfic :D

Feel free to share your thoughts about it , I’m always happy to see some feedback ^^ I’m very bad at handling my time so I have no idea when I’ll make another one , but I’m definitely planning to do more x readers , maybe from other fandoms I’m into :)👍

Bye now , stay safe ! ❤️

#helluva boss x reader #helluva stolas #helluva boss stolas #stolas x reader #helluvaboss #helluva boss

[satorisoup]

hello i have come to bother you😍

turns out we are both kyojuro and bokuto girlies which makes you based asf in my eyes

himbos that are described as owl-like >>>>>>>>

CHERRY MY LOVELY !! (˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶) PLZ you could never bother me teehee >.< WAHHH i’ve missed you !! i hope you’ve been well <333

omigosh… YIPEEEE !! lene 🤝 cherry when it comes to liking the sillest sillies :3 PLZZZ finally a rengoku lover !! he is just the sweetest EVAAAA <333 AND BOKUTO !!! my most beloved of them all teehee !! you’re so right, they are the cutiest patootiest big eyebrowed adorable men EEEEP !!

look at our sillies :3

#SOB cherry you are makin’ my day !! #so happy to finally have a rengoku and bokuto lover around here <333 #givin’ u a smoochie !! :3 #「✉︎」 — a trip to the mailbox .ᐟ #° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . — special delivery from cherry .ᐟ

[adrianasunderworld]

All of these Evil Mama Rosehearts stuff gives me Odalia vibes from The Owl House, and I’m all for it because of how similar they’re both are: They’re both manipulative, controlled their child(s), and a bitch.

I’d love to add more ideas for this idea. This was also inspired by emyluwinter's concept:

Even though phones were prohibited on campus, that doesn’t mean we could use a camera. Since the headmistress couldn’t keep up and watch every single student, Yuu used this chance to be sneaky and capture pieces of evidence of every rule and punishment that went too far with the ghost camera that Crowley gave her. She would also give private interviews with the majority of students to learn more about their opinions on various topics. However, Mrs. Rosehearts became aware of this and grew suspicious. She summoned the prefect to the office to give her a little talk…

“I’ve noticed you’ve been talking to a variety of students. Are you perhaps planning on something?”

“Oh, not at all, headmistress. I’ve noticed everyone seemed so… Uncomfortable the past few days. As a prefect, it is my duty to check on every student and make sure they’re not breaking any rules.”

Mrs. Rosehearts arched an eyebrow, but she was just barely convinced. She knew about miss Yuu's lack of magic and thought it was pathetic. She tried looking for documents about her, but none were found. It was like she appeared out of nowhere. The headmistress also heard that she has no parents, assuming she is an orphan (you could add the papa Crewel idea here and say that Yuu sees him as a father figure). Sadly, Mrs. Rosehearts fired him for standing up for his students and his beloved pup. How even did a magicless, orphan girl not only manage to enroll in an all-boys school but also become a prefect?

Sure the prefect is magicless, but she could tell how capable Yuu is and always up for a challenge. She gets along with everyone, including Riddle. Mrs. Rosehearts somehow sees the student as a threat and threatened her. She later confiscates your phone, preventing you from doing something.

“If I find you doing anything suspicious or breaking any rules, I will have you removed from this school.”

“You do not have to worry about me, Headmistress. I assured you that removing me from this school will be a decision you will regret.”

“How so?”

“See, I am the reason why this school is still in one place. Heck, I'm basically the therapist of this school. If I take one step away from this campus, I bet you my magicless, pitiful life that this school will fall apart within a day. Although, I don’t mind getting expelled from this school. After all, I have other options like Royal Sword Academy. I’m sure they’ll happily let me in. Oh? You weren't aware that RSA knows about me? Well, it was at first a rumor about me there, until they've seen stories and posts from Magicam and the National Wizarding Boarding School Joint Culture Festival. In fact. I met a few people who attend, like Chenya and the famous celebrity, Neige Leblanche. Anyways, my point is they will demand an explanation for why I’ve been kicked out to their rival school. And I am confident they’ll be "thrilled" to hear the stories I’ll get to tell them about this school with every. Single. Details, including the overblots…”

“O-Overblots!?”

“Oh right, you didn’t know about them. Funny thing is, there has been a total of 7 overblots here in this school. The very first one happens to be your own son! Crazy right? Don’t believe me? You could ask him and any of the Heartslabyul students, they’re all witnesses. Me and my lovely companion, Grim manage to defeat them with the help of others. If words go out that 7 students have overblotted within a year, there will be cameras outside gates, begging for students and the headmistress for answers.”

Mrs. Rosehearts was stunned by all the information and threats she had received. She knew she should have listened to her instincts and taken action right away. Similar to what Yuu said, it will be a tremendous problem to expel her from school. She had no choice but to make an attempt to send her away. She gave Yuu a brutal "punishment" and gave Riddle harsh lectures that very same day.

The very next morning, she barged into the Ramshackle dorm, only to find it empty. There was no sign of the prefect anywhere, and the ghosts were gone as well. She looked for Yuu the entire day, but she was unsuccessful. For the next 3 days, NRC has grown into despair. It was all gloomy and chaotic. Every student was raging and depressed, Yuu’s friends grew anxious and were all worried sick. The weather was all rainy with thunder due to Malleus. He was saddened to hear about his child of man’s disappearance.

It all changed when the next day arrives. All of the students gathered in front of the school gates. Mrs. Rosehearts tried to make her way into the crowd to investigate the fuss. As she got to the front, she sees many people in front with cameras and microphones. Right when they all saw a glimpse of the headmistress, that’s when the chaos began. With lights flashing all around her, it was chaotic. She was constantly being bombarded with inquiries from the media.

“We heard the complaints of many students about your strict rules and punishments.”

“Did you sign yourself to become the headmistress to abuse your power over the scholars?”

“Have you assulted an underage student?”

“Are these rumors true, Mrs. Rosehearts?”

Not only that, she notices the Kingscholars and the Asim families gathered together with angry faces. She was frozen in shock. She was at a loss for what to do now that everyone knows. The students were all confused, but happy that the rules and terror are over. Riddle was mixed with emotions. He was sad about his own mother at first, but he felt grateful and satisfied that she would get what was coming to her.

“W-What are you all talking about!? That’s all nonsense!”

“But those are what that one student stated. She said you physically abused and threatened her. She also stated you emotionally abused your son as well!”

In the middle of the crowds, Mrs. Rosehearts could see Yuu, with Grim in her bandaged arms, petting him with Crewel standing by her side. The three of them were all dressed in black as if it was someone's funeral. Her eyes widened, realizing it was all Yuu’s doing.

It turns out that after Yuu gathered every piece of evidence through the ghost camera, she gave it to the ghosts, who then gave it to Sam, who was forced to close down his shop that same day. Sam later handed it to Crewel, who then reported it to the police and posted it on social media. After receiving her punishment, Yuu was able to steal poor Grim back, who was abducted by Mama Rosehearts herself. With the assistance of the staff, she successfully leaves the campus. The two are now free and secure in Crewel's care. Although, they both were interviewed by the police since they were both victims and witnesses. Yuu was evidently one step ahead of Mrs. Rosehearts. She knew her phone will eventually be taken and used other ways to gather proof.

Yuu let out an evil smirk, signaling to the soon-to-be ex-headmistress that she has won. She couldn’t wait to return to her not-so-normal school life and, surprisingly, have Crowley return as Headmage.

Honestly, the wearing all black for the death of her career is iconic. I know it was Crewels idea.

I can picture so many students that sick of her saying "fuck it" and running up to the reporters and answering all of their questions. Some even rolled up their sleeves and showed for the world to see what the headmistress had done to them. Each one more damning than the last. When she was removed as headmage, it was like Oz after the witch died, it was glorious.

#twisted wonderland #she has so many cases just by the asim and lionhearts on their own #riddle you can live with yuu its fine #your mama about to do time boi

[smolvenger]

Miss Narracott and The Captain, Part Two (Captain James Nicholls x fem! Reader Miniseries)

Summary: It is 1912. You are Y/N Narracott, the older sister of Albert Narracott. You must do what you can so your family can keep their farm. And so your brother can keep his beloved horse. Under financial struggles, you never expect romance to come into your life...until you have a chance encounter with James Nicholls- a Captain with a knack for drawing. But the threat of war lingers in the air...

Link to Part One

Fandom: War Horse

Chapter Word Count: 6K

Chapter Warnings: Some angst and some fluff. Light Slow Burn. Mrs. Narracott being badass. I turn Lyons from Neutral Jerk to Mustache twirling villain. Because it's my fic and I can do what I want. References to lines and scenes from the movie. Nicholls is an angel. Some references to violence.

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

A/N: Comments, Reblogs, DMs, and Asks about my work are always appreciated! Thank you!

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp

Spring, 1912

This whole past week you did not see Captain Nicholls back at the shop. He likely had business. You wished to enquire what soldiers were doing here…but it was peacetime. And that was being quite nosy.

A farm never really had a weekend. But Saturday was the only day you could sleep in just a little. Dad insisted that for you.

“Come on, Y/N! I need help with the laundry!” mum called out from the yard.

“Coming in a bit!” you called back from the chair.

You had been repairing clothes that had tears. So far, it looked like Dad’s working pants were decent. Setting down your needle and thread in the basket by your feet, you walked out. As you entered the laundry area, you heard Joey mimicking an owl’s hoot. Both of you jumped and looked around.

“Oh, for goodness' sake!” Mum yelped as she checked around her.

Albert had trained Joey to trot up to him at the sound of it and the horse would bolt from wherever he was. Heaven help whoever was walking about at the same time Joey pranced in the yards! Everyone had to jump out of the way as Joey would hurry to Albert’s call.

But no, you did not worry about getting run over by a horse this time. Both Albert and Joey were standing in the field. They were in the circled off ground before the stable.

Mum lifted a white shirt from the basket of washed clothes. She put it on the line. You found another and did the same.

“Y/N, I want to have a little chat with you…it’s easier to chat when you’re doing laundry, …” Mum announced.

Nervousness soured your bowels. She glanced out at your brother. He went to the stable and retrieved the plow. Then she turned to you.

“You do know I love both of you,” she said.

“Of course, we do!”

“Your father and I tried our best to teach you some good lessons. And there’s one lesson I see Albert applying all the time, but I’ve yet to see it from you…”

You tilted your head as you found a wet apron that needed to dry.

“What do you mean?” you asked as you pinned it up.

Mum went over and cupped your cheek, looking into your eyes.

“Y/N, you cannot keep sacrificin’ yourself for others. Getting a job for all of us is very noble, and yes it has helped…but you cannot keep silencin’ yourself or what you think…I don’t think you really wanted to give all your wages to us…”

“I don’t mind the work, mama, I don’t! And that’s why I got it- to support everyone!” you replied.

She glanced at a dry bedsheet that was pinned up.

“Of course, you don’t. But, let me tell you something…”

She gestured for you to get to the other end. Freeing it from pins, both of you walked forward to fold it up.

“If there’s one thing, I teach you and Albert, it’s this! Everyone all your life will try to tell you what you should think, what you should do!” she guided.

“Why aren’t you telling both of us, then?” you questioned.

“As I said- I see Albert doing it and you not! I know why- I know you’re a woman in this world! I know what they teach us. I’ve been through it when I was your age too, don’t think I did not!” she explained.

She folded the bedsheet sideways and up, placing it in an empty basket.

“But what if it’s a situation where it's not polite to?” you asked.

“I love that you’re a polite girl, Y/N. No shame in good manners or treatin’ others good. There are plenty of times for politeness. Then there are the other times… if someone’s threatenin' or hurtin' you-politeness ain’t always gonna work! You got to fight back!” she said.

“Fight back…” you repeated as you hung up one of your blouses to dry.

“You cannot let others tell you what should or shouldn’t make you happy. And you shouldn’t sacrifice your own self for others all the time. Soon there won’t be anything of you left to sacrifice! You must stand up for yourself, Y/N! Speak your own mind! And tell others what it is you want, especially if they don’t agree with you!”

She got down another dry shirt and pinned it up.

“They tell us to do this or that. I’m sure even the King of England has to do what he’s told sometimes! But as a woman, they’ll try and pressure you to do what pleases them and not yourself! All the time! Y/N…you got to insist on what you want, what you think!”

Albert put the reins on Joey and led him out to the bottom field, vanishing from vision.

“They always tell us women to cut ourselves into bits to make others happy. And I’m telling you, Y/N- don’t! Don’t let them!” mum ordered.

The chickens clucked in the next yard over. The goose crawled under the fence and explored the horse-free circle of grass. You took down a dry sock to fold it.

“Their opinion, what if it…”

“You don’t have an opinion too? Why should anyone else’s matter but theirs? Unless you realize yours is downright stupid!” mum cried.

You chuckled.

“I guess you’re right…”

She put an arm on your shoulder.

“Whatever you think will make you happy…we’ll support you. Albie, Dad, and I…” she promised.

You pressed the sock into your chest. Letting out a deep sigh, you confided to her.

“I haven’t figured out what, I guess…haven’t found my place. I wondered if I could work at the shop for the rest of my life. I...I confess I even wondered about marrying rich! It would help everyone. But that won’t happen, not in Devon. I think I might spend my spinster days here…”

“You don’t have to marry if you don’t want to. I’d rather see you a happy spinster than a miserable wife, Y/N!”

The goose wandered in to nibble at your mother’s petticoat. Mum shooed him away.

“I think I’d like to fall in love. Fall in genuine, real love, have it work out, and marry someday…” you confessed.

“You always were the romantic, girl! If you do marry, it better be for love. I’d want a good man who’ll love you over a rich man any day!” mum responded.

“But I…I don’t know if I want to leave…not yet…” you continued.

The goose went over to the basket and sniffed at it with his orange beak. She opened her arms and let you hug her.

“Then stay here, my dear girl, and figure it out…but don’t let some people order you about just ‘cause you’re a woman! Ain’t nothin’ that makes foolish men quiver like seeing a woman happy on her own terms!”

You smiled as you looked up at her. She pressed a kiss to your forehead before you continued your laundry. You noticed the goose walking under the fence. He began waddling about the yard. He found dad going about his chores and nipped at the ends of his pants. · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · That Sunday, you did see Captain Nicholls at church. Many of the new soldiers had come in, filling up the pews with young men. He was not in uniform but in his three-piece suit and tie. And beside him was another gentleman with a mustache. You wished to speak to him, but your family scuttled in when the service began. As everyone gathered hymnals and sang, you eyed him. He let out a smile and a nod of acknowledgment. You did so back. Once the service ended with the final amen, the crowd broke. As you went up to chat with your friends, you noticed Nicholls went up to you between the pews.

“Oh! Y/N…there you are!” he greeted.

“You remember my name?” you asked.

“Oh, of course!” Nicholls said.

“Is this your first church service here? Do you like it?” you asked.

“Yes, indeed! It’s excellent! The choir sounded lovely- never heard one like it! I’ve shaken two dozen hands already. Complete with tea invitations. I’m sure my colleagues can say the same,” he said.

Yes, dozens of families and couples were welcoming the new soldiers in town. The young men were nodding next to the bright eyes and wide smiles of old people who were thrilled at newcomers.

“Nothing like a first church visit to make you feel famous!” you commented.

“Though I confess I would like it more if they had a picnic. I’m quite hungry,” Nicholls said.

“Oh, we have our share of picnics!” you assured him.

“Mrs. Collins promised me a welcome basket next week with her own famous bread, even!” he said, pointing her out.

The very old lady, next to her equally old husband, was shaking the hand of the mustachioed soldier.

“We could spare a few of the crops and eggs. It’s not much of a welcoming basket, but it’s something,” you offered.

“Crops? Are you from a farming family?” he asked.

Mouth frowning a little, you nodded.

“I’m a farmer’s daughter,” you confirmed.

You knew Nicholls was several stations above you. He had a genteel occupation versus the lowly farming Narracotts. Some of the upper-class people you met in the past were polite, but arrogant in their knowledge of who held the upper hand.

Nicholls was neither. His face remained soft and smiling. If he had any bad opinions about you, it was hidden.

“I think any welcoming basket is better than none! Especially with some grown, natural produce fresh from the ground! I would enjoy it…and the horse. If I recall correctly, there are horses with your family?”

“On our-our farm? The horse-oh-we call him Joey! I barely mentioned him!” you remembered.

“You said your brother had a horse, Miss Narracott! I am dearly fond of the creatures myself if you haven’t guessed from the sketchbook,” he added.

“I should hate to be repetitive, but perhaps you should come over for tea and see Joey- a beautiful, beautiful horse! He’s gentle for the most part unless he hears a commotion, or the mood fancies him!”

“Then I shall be glad to, Miss,” he replied.

He then said his goodbyes and left. But where on earth was your family? It was far too crowded today. You already made your rounds to greet your friends who went here. You began to head outside the doors.

Though as you left for the entrance, who did you run into, but the Landlord. His red, walrus mustache looked combed today. Overdressed in his black and white plaid coat and waistcoat, not a surprising fashion choice for him. He held his bowler hat in one hand. You saw attached to his waistcoat an ornate, golden pocket watch dangling. He picked it up and examined the time and then turned his head to you. Steps skidding out of bumping into where he stood.

“Oh- I’m sorry, Mr. Lyons!” you excused.

Feet shuffling backward, you bowed your head. He turned to see you.

“None taken! Only glad the service ended on time for once! But you did nothing at all wrong,” he said. He spoke with warmth. Not like when he discussed matters of rent with your father.

“Mr. Lyons how are you today?” you asked.

“I am well. And may I say, you do look radiant today, Miss Narracott. Is that a new dress you have on today?” he asked.

Something about the way he was smiling at you felt wrong. It was too wide. Too friendly. Too...nice. You glanced down at your dress. Attempting some form of modesty though you were entirely covered with hat, dress, and gloves.

“Just a hand-me-down from mum’s family,” you responded.

“Lovely on you all the same.”

It struck you that though he did have a wife, she died long ago. And the mourning period was long since over, which meant…

Slight panic gripped your turning stomach. Dear Sweet Jesus- the man was actually flirting with you! You held your gloved hands. But, considering that he had money and a higher station…was he using his position to do what he wanted? How crude! What would your family think?

For now, you only smiled, gripping your hands tighter.

“Mr. Lyons, I thank you for your generous compliment. And I hope your son is well too. Though I am afraid I must leave- there are still chores to finish back home,” you excused.

“Ah, so Sunday is no day of rest?”

“No, it is not,” you confirmed.

You wished you could have added “thanks to your prices!” at the end of that. But you bit your tongue instead.

You dipped your head and left. Despite the familiar faces you passed, your mind spiraled elsewhere. Questioning if this was reality or some odd dream you had. You caught mum gossiping with some friends. Dad and Albert were behind her. Dad turned to you.

“Hey- there you were! Was bout wonderin’ if you vanished, Y/N! Ah- let’s head home, girl,” he greeted.

As the four of you began walking, you kept your head down. Replaying the moment with Mr. Lyons a dozen times.

“You got a troubled look about you. What is it?” Albert asked in your ear. He slowed his pace to meet yours.

“I’ll tell you when we’re alone…” you said. · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · “Flirting!” cried Albert.

After some chores, you two would go for a walk outside. Especially on a sunny day like today. It was the hour you and Albert could discuss anything. Especially without snooping, overhearing parents.

It was a day that had gentle sunlight as it glided across the sky. The breeze was cool, but slight. The green grass swept through eternity like a green ocean. Tall blue mountains rose from the ground a distance away, kissing the blue sky above you. In the distance from the hill, the town looked so small. One could crush the church bell tower with their thumb and forefinger. You could even see the blue line of the river stretch out from your view. The forest skittered away, keeping the town and hills snug like it was a wall. They went on forever until they vanished to the horizon. Across the green fields, hundreds of white sheep grazed about for their Sunday lunch of fresh spring grass. Ignoring the whistles of their shepherds to feast and bleat about each other. The church bells pealed the hour from far away, but it echoed up here.

This time your company had a third party. Albert held Joey by the reigns as he walked. But the horse’s ears did perk towards you as if this interested him as well.

“I could have sworn it, yes…” you answered.

“Well, what do you think of him?” Albert asked.

“Mr. Lyons is…prosperous. He…you see how he runs things. It’s not fair dad doesn’t pay his rent. It’s not fair he wants to take our Joey too. But it’s what Lyons has to live on. That’s how his occupation works," you replied. It could be worse.

Joey brushed his lips as if in dismissal of his potential owner.

“But, Y/N, do you like him?” Albert asked.

You paused.

“Not really.”

You looked down at the town below. Birds sang their carefree songs over your head. You noted a few blue wildflowers.

“Lyons has a son, doesn’t he?” you asked.

“Yes- David’s his name!” Albert responded.

You bent down and began picking a few. You put them in your apron pocket and then went up and looked at Albert.

“Every meeting that boy stands there. Doesn’t even do anything! He just sneers at everyone all the time!” you commented.

“Andrew calls him air-nose! Cause his nose is always in the air, the big snob!” Albert teased.

He mimicked the gesture with a perfect sneer. You smiled. But then your original idea caught you. You put a hand in your pocket to touch the flowers as your smile faded with your words.

“How old’s David?”

“Fifteen-Same as me,” Albert replied.

So that meant Lyons was old enough to be your father. You let out a sigh.

“Maybe it was just flirting and he'll move on and forget it. Maybe it’s my imagination…” you dismissed.

Joey flicked his tail behind him. Albert kept one hand to pat his long snout.

“If it ain’t, don’t worry, Y/N. If he or any old goat ever tries something funny with you, tell me. I don’t care if he owns the place or not. I’ll box his ear off!”

“Thank you!” you wished.

You stopped to pet Joey, gently touching his long, copper neck. Grateful the horse was now used to you and softened at your touch.

“And please train Joey to kick him. Hard,” you added.

“You bet!” Albert laughed.

Your brother stopped petting his horse to give you a half-hug. Then you both continued walking your path. Your skirt grazed past some long grass and floated in the breeze with it. Noticing another bunch of pretty wildflowers, you both paused to gather some up and put them in your apron pocket.

“So, Y/N I finally got a name for Goose- Harold! What do you think? Fits him, doesn’t it!” Albert announced.

“He definitely looks like a Harold to me!” you agreed.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · Summer, 1912.

It was a hot July day. Still hot as your shift ended and you left. Grateful for the breeze as you left town and walked up the hill to home. Much to your surprise, you saw two horses before the stone fence you did not recognize. One was a speckled one that chewed on dandelions. The other was an intimidating black stallion that shook its mane and kicked the grass.

As you opened the gate, Albert came running up.

“Y/N! Y/N! We have guests! Guests for tea!” he cried.

“Who?”

“These fellows- soldiers! They were watchin' the lands on duty! Then they found our farm and stopped by! One says he knows you!”

“What!?” you cried.

You immediately walked inside. There was your mother just putting the kettle on.

But there he was, Captain Nicholls, still in uniform. Sitting right at your table! And next to him was the gentleman with a mustache. As you walked closer, you saw the mustachioed man take off his hat. He was only barely shorter than Captain Nicholls. You took note more of his appearance- he had dark hair, as opposed to Nicholl’s auburn hair. But both had high cheekbones.

“Oh- more company!” replied the mustachioed man.

But Nicholls himself stood up, as did his companion.

“Miss Narracott! We’re glad you’re here in time!” Nicholls greeted.

“We’re glad to have you- both of you!” you replied.

Your head turned to the gentleman.

“And may I have an introduction, please?” the gentleman asked.

He smiled and then reached for a handshake.

“Stewart. Major Jaimie Stewart,” he introduced himself.

“Miss Y/N Narracott, pleased to meet you.”

The kettle boiled, the leaves brewed, and tea was served. Father even came in to talk. Everyone sipped as everyone began to question the two soldiers. They didn’t brag about their triumphs in battle. They spoke of their daily lives.

“Fell off him! Then the horse only galloped away! I fell right on my bum in front of our general- there!” Steward finished.

Even Dad laughed. He got out a pipe and lit it.

“So, tell us, where do you fellows both come from? Your families?” he asked.

“Parents both fell ill and died when I was a child,” Stewart explained.

You set down your white and blue porcelain cup.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” you commented.

“I was raised by my aunt and uncle in London. I had a small family. But that’s not the case for Jim, here!” Stewart said.

He patted Nicholl’s back. He smiled, his eyes bright as he explained.

“I was born in Somerset. My mother was once a pianist and would still give lessons in the town and play at church. Father is a lawyer, but he had a soft spot for books and plays. They met at a little theatre club- she would play piano, and he would act. I’m the oldest of five brothers and sisters.”

“Five!” you cried. It was a lot to have just one, headstrong brother!

“You get quite used to it! We still write to each other all the time!” he replied with a small laugh.

You then smiled.

“I bet it was quite busy!” Mum said. She went to the kitchen and pulled out biscuits on a plate.

“Yes, indeed it was!” He replied.

Nicholls then accepted a biscuit and put it on his saucer. It was the plainer kind. The cheaper kind. He bit into it but showed no grimace. Stewart helped himself to two.

“Sorry it’s not much, we weren’t expecting company…” mum apologized.

“Oh, not at all! These are very good!” said Nicholls.

“You do make an excellent tea as well, Mrs. Narracott,” Major Stewart complimented.

She beamed at them as she finished her drink. Then mum began to return everyone’s cups to the kitchen.

“Now that we’ve had tea, may I see the horse, please?” Nicholls asked.

The soldiers, your brother, and you all walked out to the field. Albert opened the stable door and out trotted the horse.

“Joeys got a brushin’ today! Shiny as a smile on a weddin’, he is!” Albert bragged.

“Leave him to Jim, here. He’s the expert!” Stewart said.

“Yes, I’d love to look at him!” Nicholls added.

Out to the small field, guarded by the stone fence. There Joey stood, eating grass and brushing his tail.

“Ah-here he is!” Albert pointed out.

He put his hands to his mouth and let out the owl call.

“Gentlemen-watch out!” you warned the soldiers. You put out an arm to keep them back.

Joey’s ears picked up. Thankfully he didn’t break into an overexcited gallop. Only a cheerful prance. Nicholls walked forward to the horse. He offered out a hand. You wondered if Joey’s head would buck or make a sudden reaction. He did none. He allowed Nicholls to pet his muzzle. He smiled as he studied the horse- his eyes and his shape.

“He’s an excellent fellow. Very fine!” Nicholls praised.

“Nowhere near Topthorn,” muttered Stewart.

He looked down at the horses’ feet and then the teeth. How touching to see such an excitable being would be calm in the presence of this man. Allowing for gentle pats without resistance.

“Does he ride?” Nicholls asked.

“Not yet- almost there. Got to teach him to plow, is all!” Albert explained.

Not is all. He had to. All bets were on this animal. If he failed, there would be no more of the home you knew for so long. You and your family would have to beg relatives to squeeze you in. Or beg on the streets…

“He’s going to make a fine plow horse we…we hope…” you finished.

The two men turned to you.

“Hope?” repeated Stewart.

You nodded. Tears welled in your eyelids.

“The Landlord says he’ll take the farm and horse too if Joey’s unable to plow the crops for our rent…excuse me…” you said, feeling the sadness overwhelm you.

You turned around, taking three steps away. You began wiping tears with your hand and sleeve. Then you looked up and saw Nicholls offering a handkerchief from his pocket.

“Here, Miss Narracott,” he said.

You accepted it and began to wipe it off. You turned back around. Albert let go of the reins to let Joey trot around.

“My sister was always the worrier-but she’ll be grinnin' and laughin' in no time! Why? Because Joey is perfectly able to! He’s almost there!” Albert declared.

Stewart folded his arms and looked up and down the horse.

“He definitely has the strength to. how is he doing?” he asked.

“Just won’t move, sir- just trots around the bottom field. Or stands. He doesn’t like the plow on ‘im, sir. But I noticed somethin’- he likes it when I imitate things! He ate oats after I’d pretend to eat ‘em!” Albert explained.

Both Nicholls and Stewart returned to the horse. Joey stopped to snack on some grass.

“If he won’t move, try a bit of the horsewhip. Just a light touch. It will keep him moving,” Nicholls advised Albert.

Stewart looked around.

“Where does he have to plow?” he asked.

“The bottom field,” you replied, pointing that way.

The four of you walked there. It was a long, large field with dead grass and filled with rocks. How pitiful and impossible it seemed to you. Stewart leaned down to the ground, inspecting the dirt.

“Don’t you think if there’s water, it’ll be better? Make mud, make the blade move!” Stewart suggested.

“Well-did you hear that, Albie! Those are good ideas!” you said.

Albert nodded.

“Will keep them in, sir!” he vowed.

“Well, we’ve overstayed our time! Should we start going back, Jim?” Stewart asked.

“Of course, we should!” Nicholls replied.

Stewart went back inside with Albert to say his goodbyes. But still outside, gazing at the rocky field, Nicholls turned to you.

“Don’t fret about it, Miss Narracott,” he said.

You returned his handkerchief, which he placed in his breast pocket.

“I’m so sorry for crying in front of you officers,” you mumbled.

“There is no need for shame, Miss. You’re in a frightening position,” he comforted.

“I’m afraid…we’ll lose our home, our life…” you added on.

“Joey is more than capable of plowing. He has the ability- Albert just has to train him in the right way. He must figure out what works.”

“I just think sometimes my life’s slipping away from me and I can’t do anything about it,” you confessed.

The chickens passed the front yard, clucking away. The wind whistled in your ears, cooling you from the sun.

“Do you know of any way you can help Albert?” Nicholls asked.

You blinked.

“I could…I could pick up on some of the chores Albie does. I can feed the chickens more and check on Joey’s stable for water and food. To buy him time to train. It isn’t much…” you sighed.

Nicholls smiled at you.

“It will make a difference. That will make you feel better. And in control.”

“Thank you, Captain…for the handkerchief, your words, everything,” you said.

Both of you began to walk back inside. The gentlemen put their caps back on their heads.

“When are Albert and Joey going to continue to try plowing?” Stewart asked.

“Tomorrow morning. Starting at dawn,” you answered.

“Then…by all means, if we can be there to help, we shall!” Nicholls promised. · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · You hurried from work back home. You had to see how plowing was going- you had to. But to your great surprise when there was a crowd of people already at your property. And normally you weren’t used to massive company on your lands! Men and women, rich and poor and between, old people and little children, all gathered to see the field. They leaned against the fence that protected the bottom field. They were watching the attempted plowing like a circus!

Albert was right there with Joey. He put on a mock plow like the one around his horse. Albert’s shirt was drenched with sweat. If they began at dawn, they must have been at it for hours by now. Joey was not motivated to run. The horse stopped. The crowd all began to gossip, stare, jeer, and cheer. Some were even taking bets among them, swapping prices for if the field got plowed or not.

“Come on…come on- the whip!” you urged.

Albert used a whip and that made Joey move. He trotted forward. The blade moved across the field. But it only dug a few inches. Not deep.

Then Joey stopped.

In the back, you saw dad and Lyons sitting on a rock, watching. Lyons turned to your father.

“I’ll give you a day to gather everything even, make the arrangements…” the landlord reasoned.

You scowled, but only gripped the fence tighter than say anything. Then you ran forward to the shed and retrieved a water can, still heavy with water.

Walking out to the field, you watered the ground before the blade. Then you turned to Albert and Joey.

“Here…it should help…Albie, cup your hand, you need it!” You offered.

You already smelt the stench of labor from your brother. He cupped his hand and drank. Cupping your own palm, you offered the water to Joey. You noticed the sweat on the horse’s coat too. He lapped his large tongue on your mouth. You couldn’t help but smile at the tickling sensation.

“I can keep pumping from the spout- just holler!” you offered.

You dumped the rest of the water in a path before the plow blade.

Looking around the crowd. You heard that most were cheering the two of them on.

“Go on, Albert! You can do it! Come on- you can do it!” they shouted.

When you looked in the group, sure enough, you saw Stewart. Nicholls was right beside him. Still in uniform from being on duty. Nicholls then turned to you.

“Miss! How are you- how was work?” he asked.

“Very boring compared to this! But look!” You pointed.

The blade sunk better into the ground you managed to water. It was a little, but better than nothing. You heard a couple of claps and whistles.

“Your ideas- they’re working!” you thanked Stewart.

As Albert brought on the whip. He cracked it a little harder. It made Joey trot forward for a minute. But he was still struggling- it was difficult, rocky land. You noticed this time the horse was struggling- he was using his strength to the weight of the plow. Perhaps it was too heavy for him in the first place!

“Oh, dear god, I cannot stand it!” you cried.

Your house, your future, everything was on this! Nicholls then looked at you.

“Then you know what to do- keep watering the ground, Miss Narracott!” he reasoned.

“But…”

“Consider this an order from a captain,” he added.

You nodded.

“Then yes, Captain Nicholls, I will…”

You then ran to the pump in the front yard. You put the can under the spout and began to pump out water. Your movements were quick and desperate. Your family’s life depended on it. Nearby was a bucket empty of chicken feed. You added it below and pumped water into it for good measure. You were grunting from the effort. You were sweating and the bottom of your work skirt was dirty- but did that matter at that moment? Dirt could wash off later.

“It’s heavy- here- would you like help?” Nicholls offered, walking up.

“Yes…I would- carry it out to the field and back, that’s all!” you pleaded.

“It’s my pleasure, Miss Narracott!"

He followed you out and both of you watered the ground near the blade of the plow. As you backed off, sure enough, Joey moved under Albert’s whip and the blade dug. Some dark clouds gathered above you. Many stopped squinting from the shade.

Then once it got to dryer ground, it was harder to go through. Joey struggled to move the plow, neighing with the effort. The crowd was beginning to disperse. There was a smirk on Lyons's face. How you wished you could strike him and wipe it off! You grabbed your skirts and frowned.

But as a few people walked away- some stayed. There was Si Easton and his son, Andrew- your closest neighbor and Albert’s oldest friend. A few optimistic locals. Lyons, David, their servant, and the motorcar. Stewart and Nicholls remained, their faces both white. Your feet screamed for you to sit after work, but you were frozen in place. Dad slumped as he sat on his rock. Mum ran out, her knitting still gripped in her hand. It felt as if your fate was sealed when…

There was a boom of thunder. You looked up. The dark clouds covered the sky. There was a first putter of drops. Lyons and his son fled to their motorcar for shelter. You looked at the two soldiers.

“I’ll fetch some umbrellas- we have two!” you suggested.

You ran and got them out, already your legs were tired from all the dashing about. You handed the umbrellas to them.

“Here, stand with us- where it’s dry,” Nicholls offered.

“Thank you,” you replied.

He held the umbrella and opened it. You were grateful for the shelter. Rain pelted from above against the umbrellas. You stood next to Nicholls as Stewart began to cup his hands to cheer.

It then hit you how close you both were to Nicholls. Too close for just a brushing of clothes. He could touch you with his bare hands. You felt warm and shaky and nervous. Your stomach burst into a hundred butterflies dallying about in your guts. You glanced at him as he looked at the field. How handsome his profile was- a triangular nose, thick lashes, pink lips. You could smell the sun from his uniform. Then you forced your eyes forward. You remained standing.

Stewart then shouted.

“COME ON, ALBERT! JOEY! NOW! Now while it’s wet! Look!”

Albert looked around. The ground was moistened by the rain. And movable.

With a determined shout, Albert gave the whip another crack. Joey broke into a gallop. You gasped-the blade cut through the ground like a knife cutting chocolate cake.

It was getting plowed properly. Joey kept running. Some shouted at him to avoid the bigger rocks. But they shouted in vain. The blade cut clean through the biggest rocks on the field!

The leaving crowd then returned. They whistled and broke into applause that rivaled the thunder. Men tossed their caps into the air and caught them. Joey kept running, Albert behind, cheering along. Dad was smiling- the biggest smile you had seen in ages. No one seemed to care about the rainstorm drenching them. Lyons pursed his lips beneath his red mustache. His servant held his umbrella once he left his motorcar, jaw hung low. Mum clutched her knitting to her heart and grinned.

You broke from the umbrella and ran to give her a hug. She hugged you back.

‘He…he did it…the bottom fields going to have crops! It’s getting plowed!” you cried.

“Oh, you helped them- that’s my girl and my boy- that’s both of you!”

“I’m so relieved, mum!”

“So am I!”

You ran to the rock, taking dad’s hands.

“It’s plowed! It’s plowed!” you cheered.

“It’s plowed! And I’ll need help seedin’ it! Might as well start after the storm!” he said, blinking as rain pelted him.

With a laugh, you hugged your father and kissed his cheek.

“I’ll help you dad- be glad to!”

Glancing back, you saw the soldiers smiling. They walked forward, offering shelter from the umbrellas.

“As I said- he’s a fine, strong horse,” Nicholls said.

“You were right Captain, thank you.” You replied.

“Then we’ll see you about. Give Albert our congrats,” Stewart said.

They returned the umbrellas, which you held with both hands. Nicholls smiled at you as he tipped his cap and left with the Major. Your mother returned to the fence to watch, clutching her knitting in one hand. She did not care for the wet strands of hair blowing in her face.

Lyons, his servant holding his umbrellas at his heels, approached her.

“I’d not let a child of mine slip in the mud alongside a plow blade. He could lose a foot!”

Mum turned to him. With the fury of an ancient goddess, she aimed the sharp knitting needles at Lyons. Both Lyons and the servant backed off. You couldn’t help but keep smiling.

“You’ll likelier lose an eye, Mr. Lyons, if you carry on prating at me how to manage my son! Or my family Or my plow or my horse or my field or my farm!”

She ran back to the gate. You opened one umbrella for both of you. But she kept, running out of the way of the shelter. Cheering on boy and horse.

“Come on Albie! Push on through!” she yelled.

You glanced back at Lyons from beneath the umbrellas.

“You will listen to her. She’ll do it.” You added on.

“I’ll say this- the Narracott men are stubborn fools, but at least the women have some sense in them- both of them,” Lyons replied.

He tipped his hat and smiled, still watching from his window as the motorcar drove off. You tried to keep your eyes on the field finally getting plowed at last. Though to how much he was looking at the field or looking at you, you’d rather not think about.

#war horse #war horse fanfiction #war horse fanfic #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston fanfiction #captain james nicholls #james nicholls #captain james nicholls x reader #captain james nicholls x fem! reader #captain james nicholls x you #captain james nicholls x y/n #carrie writes #tooth rotting fluff #fix it of sorts #captain james nicholls fanfiction #fix it fanfiction #meet cute #james nicholls x reader #james nicholls x fem! reader #james nicholls x y/n #james nicholls x you #angst #angst with a happy ending #fluff #light slow burn #slow burn #fanfics #fics

[spotsandsocks]

Rules: Post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to ao3. if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

Tagged by @shortsighted-owl @jobairdxx @alyxmastershipper @spaceprincessem @thekristen999 @rogerzsteven You all light up my life. 💕

No Place The dizziness is overwhelming for a moment, it builds and build until it’s so intense he thinks he might be sick, with his vision blurred like it is it’s impossible to make out where he is.

Will be finished tomorrow but first parts onAO3 now, coma Buck meets the people he loves, some of them know Evan but nobody knows Buck, and Eddie’s nowhere to be found.

Good Knight Sweet Prince Prince Evan is almost 16 years old when he meets the love of his life for the first time, of course  he doesn’t know that and won’t really understand fully for another decade.

My beloved wip 5 chapters out Prince Buck and his knight Eddie.

Just Another Minute“Hey Buck, it’s me.” He doesn’t want to hold his hand yet. 

Buck’s in a coma Eddie waits.

This Must Be Love The living room table is all set up and ready, Buck’s stash of pens, pencils and various school based items has increased ten fold over the last few years. 

Valentines day fluff pea included.

Who You Gonna Call? Silence fills the room as soon as Eddie hangs up the phone. 

A series of phone calls between Buck and Eddie lead to love.

Could Have Should Have Would Have “I love you.” Three words, that’s all, just three and they hang in the air surrounded by the heaviest silence Buck’s ever felt.��

Eddie’s been dating a guy for 3 months which is obviously when Buck decides to say I love you.

Home Wanted “Christopher! Come on! Bucks waiting.”

Established Buddie, Chris wants a pet

Reach For Me and I'll Reach For You It shouldn’t be so easy, Eddie thinks blinking up at the ceiling, to recognise that you’ve been involved in an explosion. 

Whump!Buck hurt/comfort /team work the boys get trapped and Buck’s more hurt than he’s saying.

Sweater Number 23 It’s December, Eddie knows that because he has a kid and the countdown to Christmas is a big event in any child’s calendar. 

24 Christmas sweaters lead to love

Ripples Buck loves visiting with Maddie, his love for his sister is endless and now he has a niece to dote on as well his visits to the Buckley-Han household are even more fun.

(Sequel to Alone with your thoughts) Buck tells Maddie who he saw when he was dying.

Tagging @monsterrae1 @the-likesofus @like-the-rest-of-la @ajunerose @dickley-buddie @hippolotamus @elvensorceress @bekkachaos @jacksadventuresinwriting @sibylsleaves @fiona-fififi @lostinabuddiehaze @swiftiediaz @loveyourownsmiilee @buddierights and anyone else I’ve missed who would like to share

#first line game #tag games #spotty scribbles #911 fic #911 on fox #buddie fic #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911fic #buddie fanfic

[pdalicedraws]

[opens tumblr briefly to make this post and then fucks off again to avoid TOH finale spoilers]

So I’m at the con right now. I’m in the Artists’ Alley, where I spend most of my time at cons because I love looking at people’s artwork and getting a few new posters for my wall every year. (Well, it used to be every year; this is the first in-person con I’ve been to since 2019 and I’ve missed it a lot. I’m very glad people  are being conscientious about masking, and I watched someone get turned away at the door for not having their booster shot, so I’m not really feeling in any more danger than I am on campus. Which is to say I’m still a little nervous but also aware that so long as I’m careful I will probably be fine, knock wood.)

It’s weird. I’m so out of the loop on a lot of things. There’s so many anime that have a strong presence at the con (both in cosplays and on people’s art tables) that I’ve just never heard of. I would have thought there would be a ton of Owl House, given how popular it is right now, but I’ve only found a very few things, only one of which appealed to me enough to purchase. I might go back for that cute keychain of Eda holding King, it’s just a bit long so I’m not sure how I’d use it. 

I also expected a decent amount of Infinity Train, given how popular it is, how beloved and highly rated, but I haven’t seen any. I really wanted some posters for my wall! There’s nothing! A few people have recognized my Amelia Hughes cosplay, and a few more have just pointed at me and gone “Oh, Infinity Train!” or in one case “Conductor!” but still. It’s odd. 

The reason this ramble is going on my art blog, though, is that I keep looking at the artists who have booths here and feeling so conflicted. They’re so damn good. The vast majority of them are so damn good. 

(Not entirely relevant, but I could swear there’s a higher proportion of boobyass-artists this year than there usually is. No shade to the boobyass, nothing wrong with being horny, but bc I don’t want that kind of thing on my wall it means I keep looking at booths like “oh those colours are nice— woah that’s a lot of titty, woah she sure is bending over away from the camera in skimpy skivvies, oh dear”)

But the point here is that I don’t know how to take it, I don’t know how to handle it. I’m never going to be good enough of an artist to sell prints even online, much less as good as these folks, and I’m usually fine with that, you know? I draw to have fun, myself, and to get my dumb jokes out, and to illustrate my song associations, and to sometimes make something I find fairly pretty. I’m usually fine with that. It’s not my career path, I’m a writer, that’s the way I’m going, that’s the thing I’m actually good at. But at the same time I see these people and I think “what if I could, what if I did, what if I did a ton of TOH and IT and Utena and fairytale and SU posters, I could even have a Cain Saga one off to the corner for old goth nerds like me, what if I was actually good at this?”

But I’m not going to be good at it— I’ve been drawing consistently as long as I can remember, and I’m nearly thirty, and if I chose to make it a full time job I could probably get decently competent but I can’t, I’m in college and I’m a writer and I’m exhausted. 

So it’s giving me this very weird kind of inspiration, where on the one hand I’m having all these ideas of things to draw, the Posters I Would Make, but on the other hand I’m aware enough of my lack of skill that it’s immobilizing. 

I’ll get over it. It’s just weird right now. 

#pd alice talks #not art #spacer tag #spacety space #spaaaaacer #spacer taggity #fanimecon

[supernovaa-remnant]

🐶 + 🦉 + ☕ + 💄 please stella :D

🐶 Are you more of a dog person or a cat person?

This is always such a hard question for me because I love both so much </3

However, I will say that I had a very very beloved dog growing up, and I am allergic to cats (</3), so I tend to more often say I’m a dog person.

That being said, I still want a cat, and I’m also more like a cat than like a dog according to all of my friends lol

🦉 Are you a morning person or a night owl?

Okay, so this one is a bit weird because historically I’ve always been a night owl and I wanna say I’m a night owl. I love the night I love staying up esp to stargaze. But. Ever since my trip to Europe, I’ve been getting up earlier and going to bed around 9:30-10:00 pm my time. So, it’s weird. I like being up for a few hours before my first class, but I also miss staying up late.

Idk, I also can’t see that many stars rn bc my university is in a city, so when I go home this might change lol.

But, if we’re talking productivity wise, then idk. I tend to do most of my work in the afternoon, but maybe I’d be more productive if I did it in the morning or at night lol.

☕ Coffee or tea?

Tea 100% I just don’t like coffee 😭

Okay, not entirely true. I like mochas, but the caffeine levels in coffee aren’t good for my anxiety.

But I really really like tea :3

💄 Do you wear makeup?

Sometimes. Not often. I’ve been experimenting more than I used to, but I only sometimes decide to put blush on and occasionally will wear eye-shadow and/or eyeliner.

Also, historically I haven’t liked the sensory experience of most make-up (like lipstick and concealer and foundation, for example), so I never tended to wear it. I think blush and eye-shadow and eyeliner are really pretty, though.

ask me questions from this ask game

#ty for the ask sky <3 <3 #ask games are always so much fun #stella answers

[mdhwrites]

“I Could Have Written This Better” And Why I Don’t Say That

It would be exceptionally reasonable for someone to expect me to say that ALL THE TIME. I mean, I am A: A white dude yelling on the internet, B: highly analytical and prone to hyperbole when I speak, C: an independently published author who has every reason to try to convince you that I am better than writers you already like because you have more reason to read my books then and D: a weird outlier amongst content creators in that I genuinely think I am good at my craft. I could always get better but I believe works are good and worth what I charge for them. BUT... No. I hate the phrase “I could written this better” and have only invoked it twice. Why? Because here’s the thing: It’s way easier to look at something and see its flaws than to see them when you have to create it from scratch. That’s why people have teams, prereaders, beta testers, etc. like that because what sounds reasonable and good to you may be utter horseshit, especially since you as the creator have the grand arc in mind and so may miss the minutia that is important in a specific chapter or episode. Content creation is a nightmare and it’s why I wish I didn’t struggle so much to even find pre-readers for my content, let alone sensitivity readers or editors. It’s... *sigh* I don’t want to lament about my craft though. Instead, I want to actually talk about why I’ve ever been willing to invoke this phrase if I’m willing to be kind to the fact that the creators will stumble and trip at times. Because there are moments where someone may be able to claim this. Moments where it’s fair. And that’s mostly when the concept is botched from go. When the writer shows literally no understanding of the potential that they have in front of them. A failure to understand the basic premise and what needs to be done in an episode that someone may have a better grip on it. It’d be like if someone fucked “A Christmas Carol” by making greed and isolation seem good. That is inherently not what the structure is good and you fucked up SOMEWHERE in the creation process if that’s what you have in the end. That is when someone could reasonably say they could write it better. So what are my two? I won’t go in deep but the first was back in my My Little Pony days. There was an episode that had the structure of the stages of grief because someone’s pet turtle was going to hibernate for Winter. A clever way to talk about death... In which they spend 80+% of the episode in anger and denial. The two stages that are the most infuriating and tedious from an audience perspective. They almost don’t touch on depression and have a very brief acceptance phase. So in other words, the character does some real heinous shit, doesn’t do the introspection needed to pull sympathy back to them, or to really explore their pain in a meaninful way, and the audience is robbed of the catharsis they should get out of the acceptance phase. If you just shift a bit of that time where we’re just waiting for the character to get over themselves already and to the really juicy stuff, you have a GREAT episode. Instead, most people hated it and for good reason because the writer didn’t understand what makes that sort of episode worth it for an audience. The other, unsurprisingly, is The Owl House. But it’s a beloved episode. I think Reaching Out is a trashfire though and the minutia is awful but the grand concept... Character A has a father who ignores her and discounts her potential and worth. This drives her to do something rash and dangerous when normally she is the one to pull others back and be reasonable. She is pushed to act out of character in a way that may get her in trouble or in mortal peril but for incredibly easy to follow reasons. Character B is being reminded of the death of their father and the potential of never seeing their mother again. They are normally the more brash and daring character and Character A normally has to pull them back or watch out for what could get them hurt. She is now given reasonable motivation to act out of character in a way that’s overly cautious and scared. And... None of this happens. Character A  still has to be convinced to do anything that would actually get their fathers attention by Character B. Character B shows a SHOCKING disregard for character A’s well being (they’re dating mind you) and complete disconcern for any amount of danger anyone may be in and it just wastes a setup that is a fucking gold mine. A new relationship being tested by sides of the other they’ve never seen before? Contrasting but complementary problems with their father figures? Conflict that causes both out of their comfort zone until they finally have to actually talk about their feelings? Nah. Why would we want any of that when we can retread ground literally walked less than a handful of episodes ago, in the same half a season, and not have any real character growth or development out of it? That would just be silly, wouldn’t it? Sorry. Reaching Out is so bad imo that it makes me want to break my normal rule against simply doing episode reviews. But yeah, that is how much it takes for me to say that I could have done something better. Otherwise, how the hell would I know? It’s not like any episode I praise I would have done just as well on so why couldn’t I do worse? It’s just an act of hubris, that so requires, if you say it sincerely, confidence in your abilities, that I just don’t believe when I hear it come out of someone’s mouth. I just can’t.

#Random Thoughts #Writing Analysis

[mysterioushogwartsrequests]

Hello! Can I request an imagine with Draco and a Slytherin! Reader where they both are totally in love with each other and maybe one day in class Draco is being particularly needy/frustrated one day and she’s his partner and sees he’s super hard and she teases him but when class is over he asks the reader to give him a blowjob because he loves her mouth and he’s just so whiny and he later spoils the hell out of his girl at Hogsmeade!

This is literally SOOOO LONG!! I don’t know why I wrote so much, but I just really wanted to include all that stuff, lol. My excuse for the length is that I hit a 1,000 followers about two days ago so this is the celebratory piece! 

This goes without saying, but this piece contains a lot of sexual content so please do not read if you are underage or uncomfortable with said topics. I also wrote this in a different perspective because I wanted to try it out so I hope you enjoy!

Warning: SMUT, Oral (Male Receiving)

Title: Princess

                                                 ϟ ϟ ϟ

It was a warm summer’s day, close to the start of the new term. These past few weeks at Malfoy Manor had been tense and Draco often found himself rather stressed . A large part of him felt guilty for leaving his mother at home in the presence of Lord Voldemort, but another part of him felt grateful to be out of his sight. Finally, he could escape the Dark Lord’s watchful eyes, but he could not escape the plan set for him to complete.

Draco’s eyebrows knitted together as he squinted towards the merchandise wall inside Twilfitt and Tattings. Even when he was not around, Draco could still sense the Dark Lord’s influence and the constant reminder of the outcome if he were to fail. However, as he thought of better ways to mend the vanishing cabinet, something caught his attention.  

“Draco darling,” You called to him, stepping out of the changing room with a small smile on your face. Draco’s eyes widened in an instant, a lump forming in his throat as he examined the champagne dress clinging to your body. It was a delicate number with thin, spaghetti strap sleeves attached to the cowl-neck gown, the silk fabric shimmering softly as you stepped onto the podium.  

With a content hum, Draco pushed himself off the wall, his grey eyes locked with yours in the shop mirror as he walked towards you. He rested his hand against your waist, his fingers tenderly sliding down to feel the smooth silk against them, “You look ravishing,” he whispered against your ear, pressing a kiss against the shell of it before stepping back to get a better view of you.  

You smiled satisfyingly, taking a moment to admire the all-black ensemble he wore and how it slimmed him down in all the right places. He stood in a black turtleneck and a fitted suit jacket, his left hand in the pocket of his slacks while the thumb of the other swiped over his bottom lip. A string of questions crossed through Draco’s mind, “When would you wear this?” he thought, tapping his finger against his chin.  

Surely, there was no surprise ball this year, he would’ve heard by now. “Would you wear it on a date?” he questioned, imagining a scenario where the two of you ate dinner at a fancy restaurant, illuminated by just candlelight. “Even better,” Draco trailed off, his eyes lingering over your arse as you admired yourself in the mirror, looking over your shoulder to see the diamond detail that connected the open back, “What would such an expensive piece of clothing look like on his dormitory floor?”  

Draco recalled the conversation he shared with his mother a week prior, where she had counseled him after a particularly difficult day. Narcissa Malfoy had an interesting way of comforting her son. Of course, she sat and listened to him, holding him as he cried, a mixture of guilt and failure coursing through her veins as she fought against the Dark Lord’s plans for her beloved son. The next day, however, she entered Draco’s room with a smile and presented a brand-new wardrobe for him as a start of term gift.  

Pulling himself away from his thoughts, Draco gave a gentle smile and looked up at you, instantly meeting your hopeful eyes.  

“Oh, those eyes” 

“I’m not sure if I should get it,” You admitted, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout as you hopped off the podium and halted in front of the platinum-haired boy. Closing his eyes, Draco took a deep breath, captivated by the intoxicating smell of vanilla radiating off your body. An exquisite aroma, packaged in a —hand-blown— glass perfume bottle with delicate golden leaves painted onto it, finished off with your initials carved at the bottom of it.  

Another one of Draco’s thoughtful gifts.  

“And why is that?” asked Draco, his hand resting against the side of your neck, his thumb rubbing small circles against your jaw. The dress was cut just right, the tight, draped bodice granted him a wonderful view of your breasts, but he looked away to halt the tightening of his pants.  

“I’ve got no occasion for a dress like this,” declared a slightly defeated (Y/N), taking another glance in the mirror, “Well, we’ve still got the goodbye dinner with your parents” You recalled, running your hands down your hips, unintentionally catching Draco’s attention as he remembered the family dinner he had forgotten about. 

“That settles it then,” announced Draco in a chipper tone, “I’ll buy the dress,” he grinned, stepping towards his girlfriend, but halting by the display of diamond accessories. With a glance over the merchandise, he pointed at a necklace set with a pair of earrings, receiving praises from the shopkeeper. Taking the necklace from the older wizard, Draco walked over to (Y/N), “turn around,” he uttered and you happily obliged, watching him as he placed the delicate piece around your neck.  

“Draco-” you began to protest, but he only pressed a kiss against your cheek, clasping the necklace and letting his fingers linger at the back of your neck. The necklace was a breathtaking, diamond necklace with seven glittering emeralds spread evenly across the center.  

“The bracelet and earrings will do nicely as well,” Draco said, nodding his head in approval and signaling for the shopkeeper to begin ringing them up. You opened your mouth to protest again, but Draco placed his finger against your lips, “I believe you recall what I’ve told you, hm?” he teased, raising a questioning eyebrow as (Y/N) nodded, fighting back a smile, “Then, let Daddy spoil you, Princess.”  

There was no denying the power Draco’s tone held over you. His words shot straight between your legs, the feeling of his lips pressed against the side of your neck making you fall against him, finally becoming aware of his erection now pressed against your thigh. 

“Let's finish up so we can go back to the Manor,” you proposed, shifting your thigh ever so slightly to provide him with some much-needed friction. Draco bit his lip and gave a stiff nod, stepping away from you before you could tease him further.  

“Go change,” he ordered, the cocky smirk returning to his lips, “You’ve got five minutes.” Running back towards the dressing room, you peeled off the dress and stepped into your usual clothes, practically sprinting out of it once finished. After a hasty checkout, the two of you exited the shop hand-in-hand, the bag containing your gifts swinging in Draco’s other hand.

                                                             ϟ ϟ ϟ

This school year proved to be the most difficult one yet. N.E.W.T.s we’re now less than a year away and it was never too soon to begin revising. You, however, found it quite difficult to focus on school these last few days. Despite his constant reassurances that he was all right, (Y/N) found some of Draco’s recent behavior quite odd. This strange feeling first arose the week you stayed at Malfoy Manor, where the four of them sat cautiously at a table with Draco’s aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange. You had always had a good relationship with Draco’s relatives, but it was clear to you something was occurring under wraps, something Draco did not want you to know about. Noting his hesitation whenever you brought up the subject, you decided against prying any more information out of him and returned to your studies. Your dedication to academic achievement, much to your surprise, did not go unnoticed by the new Potions Master at Hogwarts, who had heard all about you and Miss Hermione Granger, the two top students of the sixth year.  

Horace Slughorn was a portly, older man, but very gifted with potions and an excellent Professor. Upon arrival, he sought out some of the school’s most promising students and invited them to his office for an elegant dinner. One morning, during breakfast, your owl dropped the intricately decorated envelope right in front of your plate. You had no chance to conceal the envelope from your curious boyfriend, the same one that had tried, without succeeding, to get invited to said dinner.  

However, to your surprise, Draco was not upset. Instead, he pressed a gentle kiss against your temple and muttered the words, “You deserve it, baby girl.” The pet name sends chills down your spine, a smile playing at your lip as his hand rests upon your knee, the cold metal of his rings easing any sort of tension in your body. His left hand rested against your jawline, his slender fingers twiddling with the pearl earring, admiring the small ruby motif encrusted right above the hanging pearl.  

(Y/N) leaned her cheek against his palm, setting the invitation down on the dining hall table, “Are you sure, Darling?” you questioned, taking the time to rest your hand over his, “I might not be able to fit it into my schedule...” you admitted, thoughts of Draco’s mysterious disappearances crossing your mind. Bringing your hand up to his mouth, Draco pressed a soft kiss against the back of it before leaning to press one against your lips.  

“I think,” he started, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes, “You should go show them what the brightest, most caring, and, without a doubt, sexiest girl in Slytherin House has to offer” Draco praised, giving your thigh a small squeeze before dipping to steal another kiss from you, “How does that sound?” He asked sweetly, showering you with yet another kiss, this one against your forehead.  

It was no secret that Draco Malfoy and (Y/N) (L/N) were truly and undeniably in love. Often, the corridors were filled with the incessant whispers of jealous girls who longed for Draco’s attention, but he paid no attention to them. The Slytherin Prince only had eyes for you, the only constant ray of sunshine in his life. Whenever he looked at you, he reminded himself of his vow to keep you completely satisfied, and the only reward he wanted was seeing that gorgeous smile on your face. You were everything to him. You were the only one who knew about his previous family troubles, the one who would hold him when he cried during the late hours of the evening. The one who would fix his tie the second it seemed out of place, the one who would rub his shoulders whenever you noticed him bent over his assignments.  

He would do everything and anything to ensure you felt like the luckiest girl in the world because he knew you, out of all people, deserved it the most.  

”You make an excellent point, Mr. Malfoy,” You grinned, nodding your head in agreement, and flinging your arms around his shoulders. A soft smile crept up Draco’s lips as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly against his chest and placing a kiss at the top of your head.  

“Don’t I always?” teased Draco, running his fingers through your hair as the other students exited the Great Hall and made their way towards the classes. Rolling your eyes at his response, you placed your hand against his cheek, stealing a kiss from him this time and rising from your seat.  

“We should go,” you announced, stretching your hand out for him to grab, which he happily obliged, rising from the bench and escorting you to your classroom.  

                                          ϟ ϟ ϟ

 A week had passed since Slughorn’s dinner party, the memory of the evening still fresh in Draco’s mind as he tapped his fingers against the wooden desk. Needless to say, he was not particularly pleased with the events of last Saturday. One of Slughorn’s guests had taken quite the liking to you, practically undressing you with his eyes during breakfast hours, something Draco found incredibly disrespectful. He recalled the way Cormac McLaggen eyed you this morning when you bent over to kiss your boyfriend goodbye, skipping out of the Great Hall without a care in the world.  

Draco clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as his eyebrows knitted together, sparks of frustration igniting within him. Not only was McLaggen ogling you like you were his last meal, but he was also casually brushing up beside you in the corridors, shooting Draco arrogant smirks when they locked eyes.  

Oh, how he would love to jinx that insufferable look off his face. Yeah, that’ll show him.  

He should have been paying attention to Professor Flitwick discussing the proper hand movement for the Gouging Spell, but the thoughts of McLaggen badgering you when he was not around boiled his blood. In hindsight, it was a good thing he was neglecting this lesson because the prospect of gouging a large hole through Cormac seemed very appealing. 

You were particularly busy this week and did not have a lot of time to spend with Draco. Sure, the two of you bid your usual goodnights in the Slytherin common room, but your studying had kept you away from Draco. Due to this, Draco Malfoy was left very touch starved and found himself daydreaming of your earlier rendezvous around the castle.  

Draco turned his head towards you, his face relaxing at once as he watched you diligently taking notes, as usual. You had your bottom lip between your teeth, gnawing it softly as your quill scratched against the parchment. With a content sigh, he admired your concentration and wondered how a person could be that gorgeous. He was, truly, the luckiest man in the world when it came to you.  

He supposed that one could not blame McLaggen for falling for you- I mean, who wouldn’t? Any person would be swept off their feet if you entered the room wearing those silk dresses you were oh so fond of. Draco glanced down at those pretty, pink lips of yours, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head as you parted them, tongue swiping over your upper lip as you added the final details to your diagram.  

Biting his lip, Draco forced his attention towards Professor Flitwick, but it was already too late. The thoughts of you, sprawled across his bed at Malfoy Manor were enough to replace his earlier frustrations with feelings of lust.  

“Stop,” thought Draco, closing his eyes to contain his feelings, but it was no use. Your lips made an “O” shape when you finally grasped the Charms concepts, making goosebumps appear on Draco’s skin as he shuddered.  

What he would do to have you begging for him right now.  

His pants grew considerably tighter and he couldn’t help but feel grateful towards the school uniforms. The robe he was wearing did a decent job at hiding his current problem, but he knew it would be noticeable when he stood. However, that did not stop him from hearing the way you called his name in the back of his head.  

“Please, Draco...”

“Fuck,” cursed Draco under his breath, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, a slight touch of pink dusting his cheeks. Unable to keep his eyes away, Draco looked back towards you, scanning the soft skin of your neck, and noting how awfully bare it looked. With his self-restraint wavering, he subtly slid down the bench you shared and rested his hand on your knee, something he did quite often. However, you did not question him until you felt his lips against your neck and a hand wrapped tightly around your thigh. Turning your head to face him, you were surprised to see him with his hand over his mouth, his eyes averted from yours as his fingers danced against the smooth skin of your inner thigh.  

“Draco,” you cooed, but the only response you received was a rather harsh nip at your neck, “Draco, someone will see…”  

“I don’t care,” Draco snarled against your ear, “I need this bloody class to be over…” He murmured in a much softer tone, his hand rubbing circles against your thigh and inching closer to your clothed heat. But once you turned to scold him, you noticed the dark, red blush that painted his cheeks and felt his hot breath fanning against your face.  

“Are you alright?” you asked cautiously, innocently rubbing your thumb against his thigh, but that only made Draco twitch in his seat, and his reaction suddenly lit the bulb over your head. Your lips curled into a smirk as your hand moved closer to the bulge on Draco’s pants, turning your attention towards the front of the class as you continued your movements.  

Luckily, the two of you sat at the farthest end of the Charms classroom, away from any overly inquisitive eyes. You were certain nobody would notice, if Draco kept his cool, the two of you would be in the clear.  

“Couldn’t even wait till class was over?” You tutted, delicately tracing your fingers over his crotch, and smirking as he shifted in his seat, “Be careful, I don’t want us to get caught.” You added, firmly cupping his erection through his slacks, a wide grin spreading across your face as he doubled down and hid his face behind a book he propped up. It was honestly quite surprising to see Draco this way. Usually, he would be the one teasing you to no end, but you were currently in control and that was enough to light the fire of your arousal.  

“D-Don’t stop,” Draco pleaded under his breath, biting down on his thumb to hold back a moan as your palm worked to release the built-up tension. Encouraged by his dick twitching underneath your hand, you quickened your pace and watched as he parted his lips, struggling to keep any sound from coming out. As his breathing grew more ragged, you felt his abdominal muscles tense up against your touch, indicating that his release would wash over him soon.  

Fighting to keep the small sense of composure he had left, Draco gripped (Y/N)’s wrist and halted her movements. It took him a minute to catch his breath, but when he did, he spoke in a low whisper, “Wait...” His eyes never met yours because if he looked into those beautiful eyes of yours, he would not be able to control himself. And although the prospect of taking you over the desk seemed quite promising, he did not fancy the idea of letting the rest of the student body see you bent over in such a vulnerable state.  

That was only for him, of course.  

“What’s wrong, Darling?” You teased letting your fingers trace over his crotch again, but he only clicked his tongue at you. Draco knew you too well, he knew you were only trying to rile him up again, but he could not let that happen, not right now. With adrenaline coursing through your body, you leaned towards Draco and let your breath fan against his neck before licking a stripe behind his ear, “Didn’t want to come all over those expensive slacks of yours, hm?” You murmured, gently nipping his earlobe, and taking his momentary lapse of strength to palm his erection once more.  

Draco gritted his teeth once again, pulling your hand away from his pants, “I said wait,” he growled, his lust-clouded eyes finally meeting yours, “You do know how to follow instructions, don’t you?” He asked in a much harsher, more desperate tone.  

“Depends on who’s giving them.” You replied sarcastically, placing your free hand on his knee with a smirk.  

However, Draco did not get a chance to shoot his response back at you. Once the bell signaling the end of class rang, he shot up off his seat and gathered both your belongings before taking your hand and hastily pulling you out of the classroom. A few students stared as the two of you rushed down the hall, blushing in embarrassment as you stumbled after Draco.

His hand gripped yours tightly, leading you towards the Prefects’ bathroom, and stuttering out the password once the two of you arrived. Flinging your book bags across the floor, Draco turned and stalked towards you making you step back until your back hit something solid.

“Think you’re funny, are you?” sneered Draco, pinning you against one of the cubicles, his thigh pressed firmly between your legs and his right forearm braced beside your head. Replicating your earlier movements, Draco dragged his tongue underneath your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth, making you gasp. “Why don’t we put that filthy mouth of yours to better use?” He cooed, blowing a puff of air against your ear, and admiring it as it turned red.  

With a sudden burst of confidence, you gripped his robes and pulled his face towards yours, breaths mingling together, “I think,” You muttered, leaning your lips close to his, “That’s the best idea you’ve had all day…” Looking up at his half-lidded eyes, you crashed your lips against Draco’s, fingers immediately tangling themselves in his hair. Draco returned your kiss eagerly, his hands cupping your arse underneath your skirt and pulling your body flush against his.  

You could feel Draco growing more impatient by the minute. His hands were grabbing desperately at your skin, squeezing every inch of bare flesh he could feel. Longing to have you closer to him, Draco slipped his hand underneath your thigh and hooked it over his hip, fingers gripping hard enough to bruise. Your back arched off the wall, hips grinding against Draco’s as your tongues laced together in a heated kiss. Tugging at your tie, Draco reached to unbutton your blouse and pulled it open, exposing your bra-clad breasts.  

He pressed his lips against the base of your neck, biting and sucking encouraged by your moans beside his ear. One of his hands held your thigh firmly while the other kneaded your left breast, pulling the fabric of your bra down and taking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You gasped harshly, bucking into him, and digging your fingers into his hair, messing up the parts that remained previously neat. Draco rolled his erection against your soaked panties, smiling down at your face as his hands kneaded your clothed breasts, “So pretty,” he murmured, captivated by your flushed face and the shameful sounds passing through your lips.  

Your hands reached up to grab his face, pulling him down for another kiss. This time, using the momentum to switch your positions so Draco’s back hit the stall door, earning a small moan of surprise from him. Grinning up at him, you pressed your lips against his neck and slid your hand down the front of his body, cupping him firmly as you sucked the sensitive skin. 

Draco let out gasping breaths as you moved your hand, his fingers digging into your waist, “On your knees,” commanded Draco, trying to regain some sort of control over the situation. You obliged happily, dropping down to your knees and lazily running your fingers over his thighs before reaching up for his belt. After fiddling with the buckle, you took your time sliding Draco’s slacks down, purposely neglecting his throbbing dick hidden in his underwear.  

“Don’t be a tease,” snapped Draco, gripping your chin harshly, “Suck,” He commanded firmly, releasing you as you pulled down his boxer briefs. Draco’s thick length snapped up towards his lower abs, almost slapping you in the face when it sprung out of its constraints. Almost drooling at the glorious sight of his cock, you took it in your hand, running your thumb over the pre-cum leaking out of the reddened tip. Draco bucked his hips forwards, hissing at the light touch, and looking down at your concentrated expression as you slowly pumped your hand.  

Lolling your tongue out dramatically, you leaned forwards and gave the tip a kitten lick, earning a frustrated groan from Draco. Satisfied with his discomfort, you gave the swollen tip another kiss before taking his length fully into your mouth. He let out a strangled gasp in response, his eyes squeezed shut as you enthusiastically licked up his length. Sealing off your lips, much like a vacuum seal, you bobbed your head up and down his shaft, tongue swirling around it as Draco trembled underneath you, his hand over his mouth attempting to stifle the sounds coming out of it.  

Draco looked down at you, unable to control the string of low moans and grunts spewing from his lips. The sight of your plump lips stretching around his cock made him lose the few ounces of coherent thoughts he had left in his mind. Draco let out another strangled moan, throwing his head back against the stall door as you swirl your tongue around his shaft and use your hand to pump the base of his cock. His hand flew to the back of your head when you moved to take all of him in your mouth, your nose brushing the trimmed tufts of hair as you choked around him, the contraction of your throat making him groan out your name.  

With another husky moan, Draco balled your hair up into a ponytail and used it as leverage to thrust into your mouth. “Yes, yes,” whimpered Draco, his face flushed red and his breath caught in his throat, “Just like that, (Y/N)” he hissed, his grey eyes flickering down and meeting yours, making his roll back again as he pulled his lip between his teeth. Your fingernails dug into the back of his thighs, squeezing them tighter as he quickened his pace. You moaned around his dick, the vibrations sending a violent quake through his body as he face-fucked you, his climax only moments away.  

“Ah, you take my cock so well, Princess” groaned Draco, his pace stuttering, “You’re so bloody gorgeous” He sighed, his fingers delving tightly into your hair as you continued to swirl your tongue around the shaft, relaxing your jaw to let the tip of his penis hit the back of your throat.  

The sounds coming from Draco’s mouth had you soaking wet and yearning to feel his load shoot down your throat. Determined to finish him off, you moved your hand to fondle his balls, moaning with satisfaction as his cock pulsated in your mouth. His breaths grew ragged and the only sounds coming from him were small whimpers and grunts. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, his platinum blonde hair fell messily over his eyes, which were currently screwed shut as his face twisted with pleasure.   

Draco’s eyes fluttered open, meeting your eager ones for a second time, but it was too much. Cursing loudly, Draco’s pace grew sloppier and rougher, his body trembling as you fondled his balls once again.  

“(Y/N)!” He cried out as you gagged around him, thick ropes of cum coating the inside of your mouth as he came, hard. You struggled to swallow his heavy load, but you were adamant on taking every last drop, just how he liked it. Draco gasped as he caught his breath, his hand still in your hair as he gave your mouth two final shallow thrusts, pulling out as you licked him clean.  

With his chest heaving, Draco delicately placed his hand against your cheek and slid his thumb over your swollen lips. You press a chaste kiss against the pad of his thumb, the corners of your mouth curling up into a loving smile. He brought you back up to your feet, capturing your lips in a kiss that was all tongue before pulling away with a satisfied smile on his face.  

“You’re quite chipper now, aren’t you?” You teased, hitting him playfully on the shoulder as he pulled his slacks up, tucking his shirt back into his pants and shooting you a wink.  

“Yes, actually,” He retorted, his usual smirk appearing on his lips, “And why is that?” You asked, taking the time to button your own shirt, blushing as Draco stalked towards you. He placed his hand on the side of your neck, pulling down your collar to admire the angry, red marks that decorated it.  

With a small huff, he dipped down and sucked on the spot below your jaw, your knees buckling and hands gripping his shoulders as he bit down. Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, Draco pulled away, smirking at the mark that would surely be visible for days.  

“Because I’m the only one who gets to have you like this,” admitted Draco, pulling you into a hug and resting his chin atop your head, “Can’t wait until I catch McLoser drooling over you, I’ll make sure to remind him who he’s dealing with.”  

You laughed at Draco’s declaration, your arms tightening around him as you embraced, “Are you ready for lunch then? He could already be there” You teased, pressing a kiss against his nose, and pulling away to pick up your bag from the bathroom floor. Draco chuckled as you skipped back towards him, giving your behind a playful smack as you walked past him, “Don’t run off thinking I won’t return the favor,” stated Draco salaciously, catching your hand and pulling you back before you could exit the bathroom.  

You looked up at him with a curious expression, “Is that so?” You questioned with a grin, walking towards him, and placing your hand on his chest, “Is it something I should look forward to?” You asked, tilting your head to the side innocently.  

Draco laughed, raising his hand to cup your cheek, “Come to my room tonight at eleven, wearing that pretty little dress from Twilfitt and Tattings,” muttered Draco, his lips close to yours once again, “I’ll make it worth your while,” he winked, his fingers dipping underneath your skirt to swipe over your clothed core.  

Shivering under his touch, you blushed embarrassingly as he examined the slick now coating his finger, “All for me, Princess?” He teased, contently licking his finger clean and grabbing his own book bag, “Actually, I was thinking about McLaggen” you quipped, stepping out of the Prefect’s bathroom with a bounce in your step which Draco followed after, his eyebrows furrowed as he flanked you. 

“Careful, Love” warned Draco with a hum, his hand sliding into yours as you walked, “or I’ll have to teach that naughty mouth of yours another lesson.”

                                               ϟ ϟ ϟ

 Your four-year anniversary drew nearer, and you found yourself worried about Draco’s behavior yet again. He grew increasingly distant as the term progressed and you could not help but worry, despite his constant reassurances, stating there was nothing to worry about. This, again, left you feeling frustrated. You and Draco started dating during your third year and it had taken a while to break down his walls to understand him, but now it seemed like some of that progress was overturned. 

However, when he was around, he always made the effort to shower you with affection and ensure you were being taken care of. Draco knew your habits better than anything, he knew you would be questioning his behavior and launching your own investigations to find the underlying cause of it, but he could not let you interfere. He was already under fire for having ‘distractions’ and had promised the Dark Lord nothing would come in the way of his success.  

To keep you safe, you had to be left in the dark. It wounded Draco to see that distraught expression on your face when he came into the common room past midnight, sometimes even asleep, curled up on the couch waiting for him to return. He felt guilty for putting you through all this, but it was necessary for your safety and nothing was more important than protecting you.  

His nights were constantly haunted by horrifying images of you injured or worse, dead in his arms after some terrible mistake he made. These thoughts were constantly wearing him down, but he could not tell you, it was just too risky to involve you in this situation. This stressful internal struggle encouraged Draco to show you how much you meant to him.  

He wanted you to know that you were, truly, the most important person in his life.  

“Draco,” You whined with your hands over your eyes as Draco led you through the empty streets of Hogsmeade, “Can’t I just open my eyes? I’ve been to Hogsmeade plenty of times” you reminded him, but he only chuckled beside you, holding you by the waist as you walked.  

“I’m trying to surprise you,” Draco stated, rolling his eyes, “So why don’t you stop complaining and follow me.” He declared, pressing a kiss against your cheek, and leading you towards the clothing shops in the village. Draco halted in front of a large store window, looking up at the dress and envisioning you in them with a proud grin.  

“Alright,” he started, grabbing the hands that covered your face, “Ready?” He murmured, pressing a kiss against her fingertips as you nodded. Counting to three, Draco pulled your hands away from your face and stepped out of your view, letting you take in the sight before you.  

In front of you stood a tall mannequin wearing a floor-length shimmering, emerald green gown with small silver detailing the bust, “Wow” you muttered breathlessly, leaning closer to the window to get a better look of the design. The mannequin turned 180 degrees, giving her a better view of the open back and long train that followed the dress.  

“Do you like it?” Draco asked, looking down at his ring with a content smile on his face. 

Your eyes scanned over the glittering, diamond pendant necklace complete with matching water drop earrings, “It’s gorgeous,” you replied, looking over at your boyfriend with a puzzled expression, “Why do I get the feeling you’re up to something?” You asked, quirking your eyebrow at him as he laughed.  

“You know me well, Darling” Draco admitted sheepishly, leading you towards the door of the stop and holding it open, “I just thought, since you’ve been attending Slughorn’s dinner parties, that you would need some more evening outfits to show off,” He stated proudly, his hand against the small of your back as he gestured you towards the changing rooms.  

“Draco, I couldn’t possibly! You bought me one at the start of term!” You protested, grabbing his hands but part of you knew his mind was already made up. 

“You’re right,” He agreed with a nod, placing his hand against your cheek, “And I’m going to buy you four more today,” He stated nonchalantly, looking back at the four sets of the dresses brought over by the shopkeeper, “You better get started,” he urged, taking a seat on the ottoman in front of the dressing room.  

With a loving smile, you captured Draco’s lips in a kiss, “I love you” You said, squeezing his hand as he returned your smile.  

“And I love you most,” He replied, pressing a kiss against your forehead, and urging towards the dressing room, “Come on, I want to see how stunning you look in those.” Giggling, you ran into the changing room, winking back at Draco before sliding the curtain close and getting into the first dress.  

Several hours later, you and Draco exited the shop with four bags containing various dresses, jewelry pieces, and, even, a brand-new suit. After one final stop at Honeydukes, the two of you made your way towards the castle, treasuring the time you spent together and the memories you created while doing so.

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy reader insert #draco x slytherin #Harry Potter #Harry Potter Smut #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #draco malfoy x reader smut #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts request #hogwarts fan fiction #hogwarts fanfiction #hogwarts mystery fanfic

[liliesinrequiem]

The Truth

A/N: I’m back! I’ve been working on this for a while and kept changing it up. I think I’ve reached a version where I’m rather happy with it. I hope that y’all enjoy <3!

Pairing: Diluc x Reader

Summary: You have figured out that Diluc is the Darknight Hero. Now you have to confront him about it.

CW: Mentions of blood

You slightly moved the chair side to side as you waited for your husband to return. The white cloth in your hand only made you more upset than you already were. You put it down and spread it out on the desk. The bright candlelight permitted you to look at the design clearly. 

There was no mistaking it. The brilliant oranges and reds that made the owl on the handkerchief were undeniably the same colors that you had procured early on in your marriage to Diluc. It’d been a lot of negotiating back and forth to get the threads in the exact color that you wanted. You had sewn an owl, the animal that he greatly admired, in an array of colors that also reflected that of his vision. It’d been some trial and error (and many messed up handkerchiefs) to be able to create a product that you liked enough to be able to give him. 

The handkerchief had been a birthday gift for him. 

You were surprised that he even still carried it around when he had countless other handkerchiefs. Archons, you even thought that he’d long forgotten about it. While you felt happiness in knowing that he still used it, you could not separate the fact that you were upset with him from it. 

“The Darknight Hero?” you asked out loud. The words rolled off your tongue so easily and yet, you felt it difficult to consider. Not because you thought that Diluc was incapable of actually being the hero. It made a lot of sense that the man that did not like the Knights of Favonius was also the one taking matters into his own hands. 

What made it difficult to consider was how he had been hiding everything from you. What would happen if he went missing and no one knew where he had gone? How could you sleep at night not knowing if you could have done something? The idea of Diluc being injured in his activities made you spiral into despair. 

“Oh, Diluc…..” You wished to understand his reasoning in doing things at times. If only for a minute, you wished to understand why he had hidden it from you. The only reason you had even come to the conclusion was due to an array of increasingly odd actions by your husband and a rather fortuitous meeting with Kaeya. Diluc had been unable to have meals with you with greater frequency. He’d been spending less and less time in the manor. Yes, he was a busy man, but he always made time for you. You’d wake up and he was gone and go to bed with him still not being home. He’d become so much more evasive with you. 

What culminated in everything was an odd conversation that you overheard. Whether Kaeya had intended for you to coincidentally arrive as he was speaking with Lumine and Paimon about an odd handkerchief that they had picked up from the Darknight Hero, you were not sure. It just seemed to fall into place too conveniently. You didn’t question the fact that he even handed you the cloth by the end of your meeting. You understood what he meant. 

You heard the door knob of the office being turned and gripped the cloth tightly. All the emotions that you had been mulling over threatened to flood over. Your shoulders sagged when you saw Adelinde walk through the door. “I made you some tea,” she said. She placed the tray and you quietly thanked her. You made no move to drink the tea and Adelinde remained. 

“Will you rest soon?” she asked. “I can stay with you, if you would like.” You looked out the window and saw that the moon was high. Based on your estimations, it was late. It was probably a bit past midnight. The early hours of the new day were approaching. Where was he? Was he facing something horrible? Would he make it home tonight? You prayed to Barbatos that he was safe.

You turned back to look at Adelinde. “I’ll rest soon,” you answered, “I’m sure he’ll be home soon. But Adelinde...go to sleep. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be alright.” She only nodded and stopped at the threshold of the door for a brief moment. You knew that she did not want to leave you alone, but she would be unable to convince you. You were going to stick around until he came home. 

Time seemingly passed as the tea in the teapot turned cold. You had barely touched the tea in the cup that Adelinde had served a while ago. The moon seemed to be moving down more and more. The exhaustion of not having slept yet was getting to you. You’d put your head down on the desk to rest your eyes a bit when you heard the door opening once more. You looked up and half-expected it to be Adelinde, but you felt your heart stop when you saw it was Diluc. You remained quiet as he entered and dropped his sword on the ground. 

Your husband looked at you in surprise and said, “(Y/N)?” You noticed that he looked extremely tired. His outfit seemed to be in disarray. The coat was dirtied with mud and you could only wonder if the red stains on his white shirt were his or the monsters that he had killed. His hair was disheveled. While you were concerned about his well-being, you had come too far to not confront him. “What are you doing up?” 

“Waiting for you,” you said. “How’s the Darknight Hero doing?” You dropped the handkerchief onto the desk and you watched how your husband reacted. Immediate recognition of the handkerchief lit up on his face. He looked at you with a frown.  

“(Y/N), it’s late. Why don’t we talk tomorrow?” Exhaustion weighed on his voice. It was your turn to frown. 

“No,” you said softly, “I want answers, Diluc.” You had spent so much of the day going over many things in an endless loop. You wanted to know everything. His shoulders dropped and you bit your lip. You had no desire to argue with him. You just wanted to know. You stood up and moved around the desk to be standing in front of Diluc. “Are you the Darknight Hero?” 

Your heart beat loudly as you waited for an answer. Then, “Yes.” The simple response was all that you needed to fully accept it. You closed your eyes and sighed deeply. You looked at Diluc. 

“Why didn’t you tell me, Diluc?” you asked. “Do you not trust me?” Your voice cracked with the last question. It’d been the one thing that your mind had been circling back to the entire day. Lumine and Paimon knew that he was the Darknight Hero. Kaeya had figured it out. How many more people knew this information? How come he hadn’t told you?

Diluc gripped your hands, a surprising move, and said, “(Y/N), I do trust you. But I don’t want you caught up in all of this. I don’t want to cause harm to you. I…” He did not finish his sentence. You remained quiet. While you knew that he had good intentions, you hated that he had hidden a lot from you. You let go of one of his hands and placed your hand on his cheek. 

“Diluc,” you said, “Isn’t it more dangerous for me to not be aware of what you are? Knowing all of this now, I can be more alert about everything. As much as I appreciate it, I would like to know who my beloved husband’s enemies are. What if you’re seriously hurt and we don’t know where you went? You can’t just rely on yourself, you fool! Look at you right now! Ready to keel over. Were you going to try and wrap up any wounds on your own?” You pointed to the darkening red stain on his white shirt. He looked down at it. You also noticed that he had gotten paler than when he came in.

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

“I don’t think that it was okay to hide this from you, Diluc. But….I understand why you did. Just..just tell me the next time that you head out to do whatever the Darknight Hero does. It’d be better to know than to be left in the dark. If anything happened to you…” You trailed off. The idea of anything bad happening to him made you greatly upset. 

“I will,” he said. Suddenly, he seemed to lose his energy as he fell forward and into your arms. You panicked a little, but calmed down when you felt him gripping your waist gently. He was still conscious.

“Diluc, let’s sit you down. I’ll get some bandages and work on your wounds, okay?” you said as you sat him down. You were aware that he had some first aid in his office and looked around through one of the drawers and pulled out the bag. You hurried over to him and started to help him out of his coat and his shirt. You pulled out the cotton pads and poured out the wound cleaner. You kneeled to work on his wound.

“I’m sorry for causing you distress,” he whispered. You didn’t stop wiping away at the blood that came out. Your thoughts kept swirling around as you worked. Your concern for him being the Darknight Hero was well-warranted, it seemed. Your mixed feelings had mostly disappeared because he had admitted who he was. Your worry had only gotten worse as you worked on stopping the bleeding.

“I love you, you know? Of course I’d be worried about what you’re doing when you’re avoiding me! I’m just happy to have been able to catch you tonight. How would you have dealt with this?” you said. You pressed the cotton pad and breathed a sigh of relief when the bleeding stopped. 

“I love you too,” he said. You smiled softly and pulled out the bandages to wrap them around him. His hand held onto your shoulder as you worked. Though he did not speak, he did wince at times as you wound up the cloth. You finished wrapping up the bandages, stood up, and kissed Diluc’s forehead. 

“Now, how about we go to bed? You need rest.” 

#genshin diluc #diluc imagines #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact imagines

[fill-me-with-your-memes-daddy]

Watching the Rise of the Titans movie and I'll be documenting all of my thoughts/reactions here. [Spoiler Warning]

So instead of reblogging every new update, I'm just going to have this post up on my phone as I watch and type my reactions in a bullet list format.

Nari's human disguise is so cute. As someone who does have a cottagecore aesthetic, I want to cosplay her so bad

Are Skrael and/or Belroc non-binary coded? Regardless, I'm also obsessed and I want to fuck Skrael and be Belroc.

STEVE CARING ABOUT JIM BEING HURT YESSSS!!! My god his redemption has probably been one of the greatest there is because he doesn't just suddenly go from being a bully to a completely good person. You can see the gradual shift in learning better throughout the shows which is awesome.

IN NEW YOOOOOOORRRRRRRK!!!!!! CONCRETE JUNGLE WHERE DREAMS ARE MADE OFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!

The mugshot montage reminded me of season 1 of trollhunters when toby and Jim were arrested at the museum.

STRICKLER PUT A RING ON IT??? HE'S THE ONLY DILF IVE EVER ACTUALLY AGREED WAS HOT WYM I CAN'T HAVE HIM??? well I'm still really happy about his arc over the series probably one of my favorite character growths.

Eli my guy got his growth spurt!!! As an 18 year old who is still 5'0", I'm happy but envious for him

So I went into this movie without watching any trailers or promo, but I doubt anything could have prepared me for the existence of mpreg. In fact, I wasn't going to document my reactions until I saw that.

NAMURA!!!!!!!!! MY BELOVED!!!!!! I CAN STILL THIRST FOR YOU WITHOUT GUILT

The coach teacher just called the kids zoomers so I have to dock one point from my final rating just because of that. Unforgivable

Those husky animation models suck lmao

Oh fuck the titans got power ranger zords!!

God why did they include the mpreg??? This movie would have been perfect without it.... After that plot point being revisited only one time I'm already beyond done with it

Like it's bringing me back to the v*ltron days where they're was a suspiciously high amount of klance omegaverse and mpreg fics and art created and it physically hurts because Steve and Keith's voice actor is the same person meaning this is especially cursed to me since I was unfortunately in the v*ltron fandom and remember all of that

But like on another note, how old are these characters again??? I haven't checked any wikis because of spoilers but is Steve an adult??? I know aja might be technically a lot older than 18 because alien but is whatever age she is equivalent to an adult as far as emotionally and physically in Akaridion development??? IS THIS A TEEN (M)PREGNANCY IN A KIDS SHOW????

Like bruh I saw a singular post on here before going into the movie that was like "rott spoilers without context" and there was a pregnant belly but I was absolutely not expecting the actual context of it. I'll find the post after I finish and edit this post to tag the creator right here: @makoden

This entire post is just gonna be me ranting about mpreg huh

Anyway I love the whole roundtable allusion to the legends of king arthur (not the toa version but the one he's based off)

THERE'S 3 TO 5 BABIES????? I need to take a break bruh this is just too much

Alright I've taken a 30 minute break got some food and did some things i love (decompressed by tactile stimming with some owl plushies and watched some videos on my favorite owl, Garu. He lives in Japan with his owner and is a domesticated eagle owl who basically just acts like a sky cat. If anyone else needs some eye bleach, here is their YouTube channel)

Blinky and ARRRGHHH!!! saying their "if one of us doesn't make it" talk my god one of them is going to die I can see it and I will be utterly crushed. Jim can't lose another father figure and Toby can't lose his wingman again I will riot if this happens

On a similar but unrelated to the movie note, can we just talk about how toa started with Jim having 0 dads and (if strickler and blinky live to the end) will end with 2 dads? Like I just really feel happy for him that he has two dads who actually figured out how to put the past behind them to not have any infighting between them so that both of them are healthy father figures. Jim has already been through literal hell and back losing his actual humanity in the process so if he loses one of them, I'm going to be really pissed because at this point, this is just Jim torture porn. Y'all know how as SpongeBob SquarePants went on, the show just became Squidward torture porn? It's starting to feel that way for toa and I really hope they cut the shit by the ending

Jlaire is such a good ship but like I feel like it's too perfect they never disagree with each other

YESSSSSSS Someone finally doesn't treat toby like a fat waste of space who messes stuff up!!! I think out of all the characters that would have been most deserving of a rewrite, it's Toby. Sometimes I just feel he's only comic relief and any heartfelt moments he's had in the series was also born of stupidity (ie his flour baby project being unharmed was seen by him as divine intervention from his parents but was actually just Eli and Steve behind the scenes).

Ohhhhh yesssssss Archie's father!!! I was hoping I'd see him again because we got so little of him last

Ooooooooooh Asian trollmarket!!!!!

Oh never mind slavery trollmarket

Bruh titanic camelot

I feel like we're not seeing enough of the villains because I completely forgot about the power ranger zord things

NAMORA NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MY LAST CRUSHHHH

STRICKLER NO NOT YOU TOO PLEASE

WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE ONLY TWO CHARACTERS I SIMP FOR ON THIS SHOW DIED WITHIN FIVE MINUTES OF EACH OTHER

THAT WHOLE ASS RANT I WROTE IS COMING TRUE FUCK THIS MOVIE THIS SERIES IS JUST JIM TORTURE PORN

WAIT JIM'S SPERM DONOR INFO?

Oh thank God I don't want to know anything about that person

For the record, I call that man Jim's sperm donor because he has no business being called a father to him. All he did was donate some swimmers to the creation of him and give him abandonment issues

Oh another blind troll elder???? This fucker is just if vendel was a bad guy

Bruh I was grieving

PACIFIC RIM WITH GUN ROBOT VEX AND THE BELROCZORD? I've never seen that movie but I know the reference

Bruh Blinky doesn't read horoscopes? Does he realize conspiracy theories are just the manly version of horoscopes?

NO DON'T KILL VEX STOP KO-ING FOUND FAMILY MEMBERS

Oh thank God he's okay

NO NOT ARCHIE AND CHARLEMAGNE OH MY GOD

oh never mind they're just gonna coup de tat I believe in them :))

But I want to see him again

But I'm glad to see vex

Yay they're in arcadia!

But yeah I wondered why the trolls and Merlin didn't keep the whole "daylight doesn't hurt trolls" feature from the eternal night but now Guillermo del Toro I see you were playing the long con in that just to kill my girl Namora :(((

Oooooh I love the animation of the Narizord over Chihuahua!! It looks very good and realistic (if only they could have put some of that into those huskies from before smh)

Bruh the character designs of the arcane order are so good I want to be them

Nari making sure the Skraelzord doesn't crush the bus

DAMN DOUBLE HOMICIDE

Bruh I'm just glad we finally have an answer on why arcadia had everything going on as opposed to literally anywhere else!! I always found that as a weird coincidence for plot convince.

BRUH WERE BACK TO THE MPREG IM SO JEALOUS I FORGOT ABOUT THAT EVEN THOUGH IT WAS BECAUSE I WAS GRIEVING THE LOSS OF MY LOVELIES.

Oh that's real convenient that the ninth configuration meant all of them. Way to not decide which character gets more attention. Though it probably was a smart way to not have any infighting in the fandom between each character's stan group.

Bruh I just realized where is Barbera did they just ditch her on the Camelot ship???

And where are the other trolls that migrated at the end of trollhunters s3? They said something about new jersey but obviously Jim and the other main characters got on Camelot instead.... This feels like a plot hole

And we never learned the process of how changelings are made and bonded to humans and stuff. We just know it's super painful but I'm curious ffs!!!!

THE DONT THINK BECOME HERO SPEECH ALL SAID TOGETHER!!!

BRUH THEY REALLY HAD TO SHOW HIM GIVING BIRTH??????? WAS THAT AN ABSOLUTE MUST??????

Plus the main audience for this series is little children (the rating for the movie is literally TV-Y7) so even though my adult ass is not in the target audience, I STILL DONT UNDERSTAND WHY WOULD MPREG AND ANAL BIRTH WOULD BE AN IMPORTANT THING TO 7 YEAR OLDS???? THIS IS A LITERAL FETISH HIDDEN IN KIDS CONTENT ITS ELSAGATE ALL OVER AGAIN Y'ALL 😭😭😭😭😭

Though it's probably hypocritical of me to think fetishes don't belong in kids tv when I've openly admitted to thirsting for strickler and namora

HUZZAH

NEW AMULET WAZ GOOD????

STAB THAT BITCH JIM

WAIT NO I SAID STAB NOT GET STABBED

Alright good job just missed the directions at first but you fixed it

SEVEN KIDS?????????

T O B Y ????????????

W A I T NO

N O

IS HE ACTUALLY

OH MY GOD THERE'S HOPE

NO THERE ISN'T

F U C K THIS SHIT THEY REALLY JUST HAD HIM TO BE BULLIED THEN KILLED

Y'ALL IM ACTUALLY CRYING THIS NEVER HAPPENS

I NEVER ACTUALLY GET SO EMOTIONAL OVER MEDIA THAT I CRY IT ONLY HAPPENED ONCE AT THE END OF VOLTRON BUT AHHHHHHHH

W A I T

HE'S GONNA BE BROUGHT BACK?????

HOLD UP THEY'RE JUST GONNA BRING ALL THOSE DEAD PEOPLE BACK??????

WAIT IS HE

BLINKY CALLED HIM A SON

HOLD ON IS THIS GOING TO BE A CLIFFHANGER???????????

BRUH THEY REALLY JUST CAN'T END THE SERIES WITHOUT CLIFFHANGERS like there's always an open ending

TROLLHUNTER TOBY????? You know what forget the whole rants I had on how toby was written they just redeemed it all

And that's all! I'd rate it a 6.5/10 because it's definitely the weakest of all the sequels but still had amazing animation and some good plot points. It's just really hard to look over the bad stuff enough to rate it any higher.

#tales of arcadia #rise of the titans #trollhunters #rott #rise of the titans spoilers #rott spoilers #toa #3 below #athena's own original post! #jim lake jr #claire nuñez #toby domzalski

[americanmoths]

lost in translation

Ten days after they break up, Draco owls him about his snake.

“You’ve lost Sal?” Harry asks when he tumbles through the floo at the manor. He should get some sort of award for asking about Draco’s beloved white python instead of about why Draco unceremoniously broke off the Really Good Thing Between Them after only six months. The Harry Potter Award for Staying On Topic When All You Want to Do is Cuss the Fucker Out, given annually to an outstanding candidate in the field.

“I don’t lose things,” Draco snaps. “He’s somewhere on the manor ground. We have wards; I know when anything living leaves. I just don’t know his exact location.”

“Sounds like you lost him.”

“I didn’t. Are you going to help me find him or are you going to be an ass?”

Obviously Harry’s going to help him find Sal; he’ll do anything Draco asks if it means he gets to be near him. “Errrr what exactly do you want me to do.”

“You speak parseltongue,” Draco says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“So I’m supposed to just walk around hissing?” Draco’s eyes steel the way they do when he realizes he’s wrong but has decided to continue on with his plan as though he’s not.

“Yes,” he says and walks into the garden. Harry follows behind him like a dog. He’s not even sure he can speak parseltongue unless he’s actively looking at a snake, but he really doesn’t know how to turn Draco down when he has that intense look in his eye.

What do you say to get a snake to return to you? Harry doesn’t know, and there’s a lot of ground to cover so he starts at here snakey, snakey and then transitions into come out, come out wherever you are and then to all the things he wants to say to Draco to get him to return: I wake up happy every morning because my pillow smells like you. I miss your laugh, and your ridiculously long bedtime routine, and your complaints about work. Everything in life seems duller because I know I can’t tell you about it later. I’ve never felt this way before. Thinking about feeling this way for anyone else feels wrong. I love you —

“Potter,” Draco suddenly stops. “Are you aware that you’ve been speaking in English?”

“Errrrrr”

“No I had thought not,” Draco looks at something over Harry’s head, frowning, the lines around his nose and mouth turned downward in response to some internal gravity. “Everything you said is all well and good, except I’m—” He thinks for a second. “Knotty, and eventually you’re going to figure out the puzzle isn’t worth the trouble and leave. Everyone always does, and I don’t think I would do very well if I lost you.”

There’s movement in the magnolia tree, and Harry’s pretty sure he can see the tail-end of Sal, but he can’t be expected to stay on topic when Draco looks so dejected, award be damned. 

“It’s bullshit to rush to the ending you expect because you’re scared of what’ll happen when you get there. Not when it’s something like this. Not when it’s love.”

Now, Draco is gaping at him. “You don’t have to hiss at me.”

Harry steps forward, intent on finally getting the language right. He kisses Draco square on the mouth, through his little squawk of surprise into certainty.

--

for @drarrymicrofic​ prompt: caught

#i think is the most romantic gay nonsense-y of all the things i've written on this site #Draco Malfoy #drarry #drarrymicrofic #harry potter #drarry squad #100 moths trying to write hamlet

[thedistantdusk]

Thanks to @jenoramaca @gryffindorhealer and @secretkeeper13 for the quick beta work!

A gift for my beloved @ginisbetterthanfirewhiskey.

CW: Language and domestic fluff

______

Trying

From the second he walks through the door, Harry can sense that something’s changed. It takes him thirty minutes to suss out why.

In retrospect, the smells coming from the kitchen probably tipped him off. Or maybe it was Ginny’s distracted hum, followed by the tinkling of plates and cutlery. Perhaps it was the fact that she prepared a full dinner, long before he even got home.

Nonetheless, he doesn’t worry about it too much as he greets her with a kiss, his hands cupping her chin. When he sits across from her at the table, there’s something furtive and curious lurking behind her eyes, but their meal is so peppered with normalcy that he doesn’t bring it up. They banter and laugh about Luna and Robards and wonder what they’ll bring to the Burrow on Sunday.

But when they’ve reached the stage of chasing stray noodles around their plates, Ginny finally clears her throat… and just like that, the nearly imperceptible shift he’d sensed earlier turns into something very perceptible, indeed. “Can I erm. Talk to you about something?”

He pauses, mid-bite, and takes her in. Her lip’s worried between her teeth, her hands fidgeting. Even her hair, normally strewn about her shoulders or parted to the side with a sort of effortless grace, is tied back and resting low at the base of her neck.

Ginny’s not normally this… serious. And he’d be lying to say it didn’t frighten him.

So he blurts the first thing that comes to mind. “Who died?”

There’s a half-second pause in which his chest clenches, his stomach churns. Could it be Molly? Or Arthur? George hasn’t been great either, not that—

But Ginny just reels back, confused… and it’s not until then that Harry realizes he’s really, really misread something.

“I… w-what?” she stammers, brow furrowing. She peers at him for a pained moment before her face relaxes into a look of understanding. “Oh. Oh! For fuck’s sake,” she mutters, rubbing her forehead. “I guess I’m thicker than usual, should’ve known you’d read it that way.”

Harry snorts. “Erm… darling, as many things as I legitimately don’t understand, I’m fairly sure this one isn’t on me.”

Ginny ignores this. “Did you seriously think that something dreadful happened and I’d just spring that on you in the middle of your bolognese?” Her lips twitch into a smirk. “Here’s some pasta. By the way, a fire burned a puppy orphanage to the ground. Could you pass the salt?”

He gives her a plain stare. Nice try. Years ago, he might’ve taken the bait and chased her down that rabbit hole. They might’ve had an hour-long, spirited debate on the existence of puppy-specific orphanages. But after three years of marriage, he knows better.

And she knows he knows.

Ginny finally draws a resigned breath. “No,” she says slowly. “No one died, ok? Or is even… I don’t know, sick or infirmed or threatened.” She waves her hand and continues babbling. “Last I checked, even Muriel’s still going strong, somehow. I’m jealous of that, you know— being old enough to just say whatever the fuck you’d like and have no one question it because—”

“—Ginny,” he cuts across on an exasperated sigh. “As chuffed as I am to chat about Muriel all night, I’d really like to know what’s bothering you. Please?”

There’s another pause as she bites her lip. Then, in one swift motion, she attempts to rise to her feet and push her chair in on her way over to him.

But somewhere along the way, something gets crossed— and Harry watches in bewildered horror as her foot catches on the leg of the chair. Then, right in front of his eyes, she lets out a startled gasp, her arms flailing, before she lands with a thump.

He’s out of his seat and on the floor beside her before he even realizes she’s cried out in pain and surprise. “Are you ok?” he demands, pushing her jeans up around her ankle… her tricky ankle, the one she hurt rather badly at the playoffs last month. Hm. It's a bit red.

Honestly, she hasn’t been this clumsy since she was 10 years old and near a butter dish. This does nothing to alleviate his fears that there’s something Very Wrong.”

“It’s not even my ankle that hurts,” Ginny grits, pushing up on her palms. “Wait— Harry, what are you—”

“Need to ask Gwenog,” he says urgently, running to the other side of the table for his wand. “She said that if anything happens to your ankle to tell her straight away, remember? Better safe than—”

She scoffs. “Seriously, Harry, I’m fine! I didn’t even land on my—”

He arches an eyebrow. “Have you suddenly forgotten the Puddlemere match? When your ankle broke clean through the skin?” Even now, the memory makes him shudder. “You heard Gwenog— without magic, you might not have walked again.”

“But there was magic,” she says, almost pleading. “And seriously, I’m fine!”

Harry finds he has limited patience for her heroics, though, while she’s sprawled out on the floor and nursing a bruise on her arse. “Gwenog’s instructions were quite clear,” he says firmly. “Having a pro athlete as a wife is a group task. It’s taxing on your body. I’ve got to make sure there’s enough of you left to enjoy our lives.”

Ginny clears her throat. “Erm… but what if you… haven’t actually got a pro athlete as a wife. Technically speaking.”

Harry swallows. He’s sure he’s heard her wrong. “What?”

With a wince, she adjusts herself against the wall. “I’m sorry… this isn’t how I’d planned to tell you. I’ve really fucked this up, haven’t I?”

Normally, Harry might press a bit harder. Normally he’d demand answers— and now. But as he peers at her on the floor, there’s something soft and uncertain behind her eyes… something timid. So he decides to do something he knows he’s good at— something she doesn’t let many other people do: take care of her.

With a sigh, he scoops her from the floor and brings her to the sofa. Then he props her against the pillows, putting her legs across his lap.

And he waits.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, peering at her downcast face, before she finally says it in a rush.

“Iwanttohaveababy.”

It comes on a whisper. A breathed admission. He knows, just from her expression, that she’s never said it aloud.

But he must have misunderstood. There’s no way he’s not projecting, inserting the reality he wants instead. “Could you… could you repeat that?” he manages, his voice gruff and shaken.

Ginny just sits up straighter; her cheeks as red as her hair. “I want to have a baby,” she repeats, the confidence building with every word.

Oh. Looks like he was right after all.

Harry blinks at the carpet, his head spinning, mortified with the tears that have sprung, unbidden, to the corners of his eyes.

A baby. Their baby. A smile plays at his lips as he stares at her ankle in distracted bliss. He’s been ready for ages… longer than anyone he knows. It’s hard to remember a time when he didn’t want a family with her. When he didn’t want to watch her grow and change. To become more beautiful with every passing day until…

He swallows back another round of tears; he’d never forgive himself if he forced this… if he swayed her, in any way, despite what he wants so badly it squeezes his insides.

“But what about quidditch?” His voice cracks; he clears his throat to cover it. “Honestly Ginny, I’ll wait, as long as you’d like. We’re young. Think of what you’d deal with, loads of assumptions and press and comments.”

She turns to him with an arched brow. “And since when have I ever cared about comments? Since when have you cared about comments?”

He spreads his palms in resignation; it was a particularly weak argument. “I know. I just… don’t want to make your life more difficult.”

“Well...” She draws a deep breath and peers down at her nails. “I’ve erm. Actually quit the Harpies, all by myself.” Her cheeks begin to redden again. “I’ve already sent the owl and everything. Resigned. No intent to return next season.”

Oh.

That’s what she meant, then, about not being married to a professional athlete. Harry blinks a few more times as she plows through an explanation that could honestly be something from a dream.

“I’ve… I’ve just been thinking about it. A lot,” she adds, focus returning to her cuticles. “The Harpies are out for the rest of the season— that fucking Puddlemere match and that bullshit ref.” She glares at the pillow to her right. “Nothing like blind favoritism. Fucking prick should’ve been fired!”

All Harry can manage is a feeble chuckle, his hand moving to caress her knee. This time, he can’t bring himself to stop her spiral.

“Maybe it’s not just that match, though,” she admits, rubbing her ankle. “It’s also just… so much bloody work. I’ve been at it three whole seasons, you know? I’m a bit tired of missing birthdays. And family events. And only dreaming of bludgers and snitches. And attending the mandatory press interviews to avoid getting fined, and then giving polite answers to personal questions when I really just want to hex them, and—”

Harry laughs. “I think Sandra Richardson might disagree about the polite answers bit, darling.”

Ginny gives a dignified sniff and continues as if she hasn’t heard him. “Annnyway,” she says, toying with a piece of lint. “I… feel like I’m ready to move on. So.” Her face splits into a grin as she gestures to the corridor. “On with it.”

He clears his throat. “As much as I’d love to take you up on that, I’m confused about how this relates to quitting your job. You could’ve kept playing. Or—”

“—Why is it so hard to believe this is something I want?”

There’s a beat. He doesn’t have a good answer.

“What if I wanted to quit before I got pregnant?” she continues, her tone growing more demanding. “What if I was done with playing, regardless — and genuinely wanted to have children? Your children.”

She lets out an incredulous laugh, tossing her hands in the air. “I have to say, Harry, this feels an awful lot like you’re doubting what I actually want to fit a narrative of what you think I want.” Her eyes narrow again. “Is that really respecting my wishes?”

“No,” he says quickly, shaking his head. He’d never thought about it like that before… how it might be insulting, really, to question what she’s ready for. He laces their fingers together, feeling properly chastened. “I’m sorry. I never meant to… suggest you don’t know what you want. Or something.”

He hears the timid smile in her voice as she squeezes his hand back. “Do you still want a baby, then?” she asks. “Or are you just in it for the practice?”

A smile creeps across his face, his eyes still focused on her hands. “I… think you know the answer to that one.”

“Well, I’m not sure I do,” Ginny says flatly. “Because I just told someone who wants two million babies that I’m ready to carry his first child. Forgive me if I expected a bit more excited fanfare than acting like I drowned your kitten.”

“What’s with you and baby animals today?” he murmurs, inching her pant leg a bit higher.

“Wonder why I’ve got babies on the brain,” she quips, raising her eyebrows. “Maybe because I want one.”

Harry releases a resigned sigh. She’s clearly done playing. “Honestly…” He bites his lip. “If you’re sure that’s what you want, I’m obviously on board. Obviously.” His eyes flit to hers. “I just… I don’t want to be responsible for something you end up regretting.”

It’s the truth of the matter, really; the thing that tugs at him the hardest. The fear he’d ever burden her… the worry he’d ever make her less than happy.

Ginny gives him a small smile, her hand coming to cup his jaw. “I’m going to take that as a weird, sad Harry thing instead of an attempt to remove my womanly agency.” She narrows her eyes. “But that’s your final warning.”

Harry doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s on his feet in a split-second, gathering her into his arms with the stupidest grin he’s ever worn. Trying. Is that what they call this? Are they actually properly trying now?

“Get used to this,” she says as he strides into the bedroom. “Because once you knock me up— on purpose, mind— I’m going to request a lot more transportation.”

“I think I can live with that,” Harry murmurs against her lips, draping her across the bed.

And to avoid a well-deserved slap, he doesn’t say the final bit: As long as you can live with me.

#harry/ginny #harry/ginny fanfic #hinny #harry potter #harry and ginny

[gryffindors-weasley]

Old and New

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Requested by @futuremrsmalfoy20 : “Draco buys you a kitten fluff”

Summary: When you return home from work, Draco has a surprise waiting for you.

Warnings: loss of a pet, mild angst, fluff, kisses

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Thank you for such a sweet request!

Draco Malfoy was never a fan of cats, or any kind of animal for that matter. He didn’t grow up with household pets, save for his owl, but even then he wasn’t too fond of the feathered creature. He didn’t dislike them, not really, he rather was indifferent. However, you on the other hand were the complete opposite.

You had had a cat once before, finding a feline more preferable rather than the traditional owl that most students had selected for themselves. She was a fluffy black cat with miscellaneous splotches of white, striking and round green eyes that were far too adorable for you to ignore. Her name was Ophelia and she was wonderfully sweet, not a minute going by in her presence without her nudging you affectionately.

She accompanied you throughout your years of magical endeavors at Hogwarts until seventh year, and you made the decision to bring her home to your parents before the war had begun in full force. You had loved her far too dearly to risk the potential of putting her in harm’s way, she was your home away from home.

Since then, she had lived her days and nights in the blissful environment of your parents house, and you were quite sure you’d never seen her more content in an environment in your life. Always tucked away in the most unconventional of places whether it be the garden, the top shelf of your closet, or even nestled between the thick tree roots on the edge of the property. It was there where she had lived her life most contently, and you couldn’t have asked for anything more.

—

You sigh tiredly upon finally seeing your beloved home, smiling at the sight of the little yellow car parked on the mossy cobblestone driveway. As if it weren’t already obvious that Draco had gotten home before you, the smoke puffing out of the lone chimney and the warm glow in the frosted windows were more than enough indication. You pushed open the creaky wrought iron gate without hesitation, the sound only accentuated by the drizzling rain pattering down.

Rushing up the stone path to your front door, you push it open and escape from the rain. The warmth you were met with was immediate upon your entrance, as was the ever familiar scent of cinnamon and sugar, a hint of coffee mixed in. Your soft smile never faltered as you shrugged off your rain dampened jacket, slipping it on the copper hook just inside the door next to Draco’s.

“Love?” An ever so familiar voice called out, one that felt even more like home than that of the building the two of you claimed as your own just a year and a half ago.

You stepped out of your shoes and set them on the welcome rug, Draco appearing shortly after to see if it’d really been you. His hair was a mess from what it once neatly was before he left for work earlier that morning, the inclement weather having brought out waves of platinum. His smile was nothing short of adoring when he caught sight of you, and you barely had time to set down your keys before his hands settled on your flushed cheeks. His lips were soft against yours as he kissed you, the expected taste of coffee and cream lingering on his lips. His hands are cooled against your heated skin, but the shiver running through you was of no importance at that moment.

“Hi darling,” he manages when he brings himself to part from you, though he hadn’t strayed too far as his nose brushed against yours.

“Hey,” you sigh, his kiss nearly making you a fool no matter how short it may have been.

He tucked your hair behind your ear tenderly, the tips of his fingers tracing along your skin before traveling down your arm to grasp your hand. No matter how hard he tried, which hadn’t been very much, he finds himself capturing your lips once more in another kiss. You were far too irresistible for him not to bask in your affections.

“How was work?” He mumbles against your lips, squeezing your hands.

“Quite busy for a bookshop in the middle of the only wizarding town in the area. Peculiar isn’t it?” You respond, a laugh leaving your lips when his arms circle around your waist and press you to him in an embrace.

“Indeed,” he agrees quietly, kissing your cheek before his lips ghost across your neck and just under your ear warmly. You had to stop yourself from all but squealing at the very sensation tickling over your skin though a giggle does escape you.

“What’s got you so smiley?” You inquire, brow raised in curious amusement as you push back to look at him.

“What, can’t I be overjoyed that the love of my life has come home? Forgive me, darling,” he says in faux offense, his smile still very there regardless.

You roll your eyes, allowing yourself to fully look at him for the first time you’d gotten home just minutes ago. His cheeks were a bit flushed from what you assumed was the chilly weather, that and the feeling of your kisses had brought it out of him. His icy hair had been dipping over his forehead, covering over dark brows and tangling with even darker lashes. The grin on his kiss swollen lips had been very apparent the moment you saw him, faltering only slightly when he was busy casting his affections on you in greeting. A thick, black sweater hung from his shoulders, tattered and torn around the edges from constant use when he hadn’t needed to dress so formally for St. Mungo’s. Though you couldn’t help but to notice the extra runs and pulls in the soft yarn.

“Perhaps I will if you let me change out of these clothes,” you say, reluctantly leaving his loose grasp. “It is raining after all.”

A flurry of panicked emotions had crossed over his face in that very moment, his eyes widening a fraction as you step farther from him and closer to the stairway. Your brows furrow slightly at his sudden change in attitude, watching as his hand flies up to scratch at the back of his neck. When you turn away once more you’re quick to feel his hand envelope yours, effectively stealing your attention away from the task at hand briefly. As you open your mouth to speak, he beats you to it.

“I’ve already put your clothes in the dryer so they’d be warm for you, they’re in the laundry room,” he rushes, and his words are far too quick for you not to be even a little suspicious of it. “It’s that sweater of mine that you like, you know—the green one?”

He draws you closer as he speaks, noting the way your eyes squint in disbelief. Draco may have been good in the area of deception to just about anyone else, anyone but you. Not with the way his hand came to rest on your cheek, and how his thumb brushed over your skin. Certainly not with the way his bout of kisses resumed, blossoming over bare patches of skin. His valiant attempts to hold your attention had been working, but only for a few fleeting moments.

“And what if I wanted the maroon one?” You jest with a teasing smile, and with his moment of distraction you slip from his arms and make your way back to the stairs.

He finds himself at a loss for words as his panic builds with every bit of distance between you, and all he can do is follow behind and desperately try to find something else to say. When he comes up terribly short, he accepts his fate with a defeated huff.

“Darling wait!” He manages when you twist the doorknob, entering the cozy bedroom.

His face scrunches in a wince at the sight before you both, unsure of just how you’d react. For a small kitten lay curled up in a fluffy ball of snowy white fur, tucked and nuzzled into heaps of his old quidditch sweater. The small animal was seemingly unbothered by the newfound commotion that had entered the room, instead basking in the warmth of the deep green yarn. You even took notice to the lilac-colored collar fitted loosely around its neck, a small silver bell dangling from it.

You spun on your heel to face him with a raised brow, a soft smile fighting to tug at your lips and soon you couldn’t hide it. You were baffled more than anything. Draco’s cheeks were a noticeable blush pink as he offered you a hesitant smile, still looking rather panicked. “What’s this all about?”

He swallows thickly, his fingers running over his jaw in a nervous habit. “She’s…she’s ours.”

It took you a moment to process it as Draco shuffled around you, leaving you to look at the empty spot he once stood in for a brief few seconds before following where he’d walked. He scooped up the small animal with a certain gentleness that made your heart flutter in your chest, and she stretched tiredly against him. Her yawn had showcased perhaps the tiniest fangs you’d ever seen, the soft pink pads of her feet pressing to his chest.

“What do you mean?” You were still quite dumbfounded at the sudden news, your gaze flickering between the kitten cradled happily in his hands and to his hopeful face that you wouldn’t be mad at him.

“I uh…I adopted her,” he says with a nervous laugh as he looks down at her, a small meow escaping her mouth at the sound of his voice. “I know you’ve been missing Ophelia, love. And I know I’m not very fond of cats but I think I’m warming up to her, she seems to like me—”

His rambling is promptly cut off when she nips at his bottom lip, doing it again twice more before he settles her into his sweater on the bed again.

“Draco, I…”

“Have I upset you?” He asks, a myriad of emotions rushing through him that maybe you still weren’t ready for a new pet at that moment in time. “Love, I didn’t mean—”

“I love her,” you finally manage after he all but sputters apology after apology, a jittery laugh leaving you as your gaze moves to his. Your laugh only continued softly at the light swelling of his lip from where she had bit at him in a playful curiosity.

Now he was the one that had been baffled, dumbfounded. He wasn’t quite sure if he’d heard you correctly. “You do?”

You respond with the kiss you press on his lips, firm yet gentle as the shock you’d once been in begins to wear off and disappear completely. His persistent panic only settles then, his obvious tension relaxing as his arms snake around your waist and a sigh is breathed. You part from him only to kiss him yet again, your fingers brushing over his cheek as your smile becomes apparent. “I love her.”

The words are whispered in giddy excitement as your lips sweep across his own with soft touches, his hair brushing against your forehead in the close proximity. The exhale of his relief puffs against your skin as he kisses your cheek once, twice, even three times, your arms hugging around his neck. Your grip on him was on the verge of being too tight, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

You release him all too quickly in his opinion, but his inner complaints are quick to dissolve when he sees you grab the kitten gingerly. Her contented meow is instant in your gentle grasp, and you can’t help but kiss her tiny pink nose in a shower of affection.

All Draco could do was stand back to watch the happiness dance across your features, to listen to your delight laughs as you spoke ever so sweetly to the fluffy creature. He couldn’t help the way his heart had been hammering away in his chest at the very sight, the way his smile was unable to be controlled at the sheer excitement you held. It had diminished any last traces of worry and doubt he had that maybe it’d been too soon. That maybe it’d upset you and maybe you’d think he was expecting you to move on. Any and all fears that had plagued his mind on the subject were gone at the way you beamed.

In that moment he found he’d do just about anything to see you smile, to bring you happiness. He knows very well that he hasn’t always been the easiest person to love, far from it, he knows that his life and his prior choices have put you through more than he’d like to think about. For if he did dwell on it for too long, he’d certainly make himself miserable because it still vexes him that you could love him so fully, without hesitation. But if there had been one thing he knew with certainty, it’s that he’d go to the ends of the earth just to make you happy. He hadn’t known how he deserved you after everything, but he was determined to give you all that he could.

“Have you named her yet?” You ask, pulling him from his daze and back to you.

He was distracted for a mere moment, trying to piece together what you had said because he’d been too caught up in admiring you. “Well, I…I was thinking Ivory. I thought it would be rather cute since—what is it?”

The corner of your mouth quirked up in a teasing smirk, your brow raising. “And to think you hated cats.”

He scoffs as he rolls his eyes, looking away from you to stave off his reddening cheeks.

“I do not hate them, I just never particularly liked them,” he grumbles.

“That is so untrue!” You exclaim, his gaze turning to you again, “You nearly declared war when Filch’s cat clawed you, Draco. If I recall correctly, you even said—”

Your words were cut off by his lips, for he didn’t want to hear just how right you were because you always are. So he quieted you the best way he knew how. The giggle it elicited tumbled from your lips and sounded against his mouth, fading away the more he had kissed you. After all, he had to make sure you didn’t bring up just how insufferable he once was in his childhood. But what was once an attempt to distract you became more profoundly distracting to him as your lips had him spellbound.

“Ivory is cute,” you murmur softly with another tender kiss as she paws at your hair, “and so are you, Dray.”

Her little meows have pulled your focus from each other and directed it towards the kitten in your arms who so openly expressed her feelings. Draco took her from your hands and kissed her head, and it was then that your quiet laughter erupted. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say as you try to stifle it, earning a narrowed stare. “You two look alike is all.”

His gaze only hardens at you before he looks at her, her pale blue eyes and icy hair too obvious a comparison to himself. But he will never admit that to you, you’re having way too much fun with it as it is. “No, we don’t.”

Your joyous laughter sounds once more, bringing the softest of smiles to his face. “Whatever you say, my love.”

In that moment your heart was full, because now you had not one love but two. The gesture was wonderfully thoughtful and entirely what you felt you missed, and while nothing could replace your treasured Ophelia no matter how many years have passed, now you could appreciate the old and new.

—

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