#The Wizard X OC

[ajs-ozian-adventures]

The Emerald Bard: Part One

Synopsis: After joining Elphaba and Glinda on a trip to her birth city, Emerald Upland finds a kindred spirit in the Eccentric Oz, Feaux Wizard Deluxe.

Pairings: Gelphie, The Wizard X Witch!Bard!OC

(A/N: This is a pretty short and tame little intro to what will hopefully become a “fix it fic” series where The Wizard is actually less of a bad person and listens to the people of Oz and cares about them.)

—/—

“Are you sure?” Emerald asked again, still reeling from the offer. “The Wizard invited you to his personal palace and you want me to join you?”

“Em, you’re my sister, I want you to get to see where you came from.” Glinda smiled, the three girls huddled together conspiringly on the sofa as Glinda tested out her new Magical Manicure Kit on her sister.

Em loved The Uplands dearly. They were the only family she’d ever known, having been adopted when still a small child. And Glinda made certain that Em wanted for nothing, like any good big sister would.

“The letter said I could bring as many guests as I’d like and I want you two by my side. There’s no one else I can picture beside me.”

Elphaba sounded as if she’d been having visions again, her face distant for a moment.

“If you insist! I’d be honored to join you.”

Glinda squealed with delight at her sister’s agreement to the trip.

“Ooh! We have to go shopping the second we get there! Look out Emerald City! You’ve got three more Gems coming your way!”

-/-

A few days later, they were set up in lavish rooms in the Emerald palace, The Wizard’s Esteemed personal guests.

The problem of his non-magical status had indeed been a bump in the yellow brick road on the first day, but he and Elphaba were now chatting away like old friends, pondering how they could turn his image around and help the animals, while not lying to the people of Oz more than he already had.

And that was when Elphaba came to Emerald’s room, a grin on her face that Em hadn’t ever seen before.

“He wants to see you. Alone.” She said.

“Alone?!” Emerald asked. “Oh Elphie I almost fainted the day we got here! How am I going to hold a conversation with him?!”

“He’s not the talking head, remember? He’s a Man. A very nice one. I think you’ll get along fine, Em.” Elphaba grinned.

…

The thought of entering The Wizard of Oz’s Personal study made Em’s knees feel like they would buckle, but she awkwardly knocked anyway.

“Miss Emerald Upland …of The Upper Uplands. A Gem of my Very Own City. Emerald of my Emerald. How very nice to finally meet you properly.” The Wizard Ushered her in excitedly.

Em stood frozen for a momen, aghast at the Curly Haired motormouth in front of her. She still wasn’t accustomed to The Wizard being so friendly. She finally sat beside him on the large green sofa.

“Your sister and her… friend have had a lot to say about you. All good things, don’t worry. But I do have to ask, little Gemstone, Why have you been avoiding me for almost three days?” He asked, pouting dramatically.

Emerald’s face grew hot.

“I meant no disrespectation, your Ozness. I was… well, truthfully, I was afraid.” She said quietly.

The Wizard frowned a little. Emerald’s face practically burst into flames.

“Ah, I see. All of the mechanical head nonsense frightened you, I’m so terribly sorry. I’ve been tinkering with a new version, you know? A projection screen, something smaller. At any rate that’s not who I am. Not really.” He offered his hand out. “My name is actually Oscar. Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkle Emmannuel Ambroise Diggs. But please, call me Oscar. Or just Oz… It’s much less time consuming.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance… Oscar. I’m not nearly as brilliant at magic as Elphaba is, but I gladly lend myself to your service. Magic or otherwise. Though I must tell you I’m more of a Bard than a Sorceress. My Magic is mostly spectacle.” Emerald admitted.

“Oh! You’re a bard?” The Wizard’s eyes sparkled with a new intrigue. “I’ve never had a bard in my palace before… how thrillifying. What’s your specialty, dear? I’d love to see you in your element.”

“Music, your Ozness.”

Oz’s face lit up even further at that, and he took Emerald’s hands in his with a delighted gasp. Emerald felt like her hands were live wires when they touched.

“Oh then this was meant to be! We adore music here in the palace. May I hear something? Something that isn’t about me?” He asked earnestly. “No pressure, none at all.”

Emerald tried to ignore the sparks she would undoubtably see if she looked down at their still tangled hands, her eyes locked onto Oz’s.

She realized in those short seconds how absolutely beautiful she could find someone. His eyes were dark, with flecks of green and blue in the light, and unbelievably kind.

Emerald nodded finally, settling on a lullaby from childhood.

..

“…if happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow, why, then, oh why can’t I?”

The Wizard’s eyes had drifted closed, and he was smiling when Emerald was through. He opened them, gazing at Em curiously.

“You know that’s what I do? I help people fly over that rainbow.” Oz murmured. “…Do you like it here, little Gem? Could you be happy here?”

“Oh, Oz, it’s wonderful here! The culture of the City, the People, the magical sights? it’s all so wonderful….” Emerald agreed.

“You’d be able to sing, play music, write, perform plays, anything you’d like. I’ll make sure you have everything you could need. All of Oz’s best. And total creative control. I only ask that you stay by my side. And you’d get to see your Sister and Friend every day. They’re going to be my Ambassadors to the North and the West.” He explained. “Anything your heart desires, just name it. There’s something good here, I can tell.”

While Emerald started out Terrified of the Great and Terrible Wizard, this man in front of her made her feel something she couldn’t explain. It was like they were cut fron the same Eccentric cloth. Like their minds were peering into each other. And when they touched, it was like a current ran through the two of them, making them one.

Maybe that was why they were still holding hands…. And sitting so closely.

“I’m sorry I just…. i’ve never felt anything like this before. I’m not sure what to say…”

A force, almost like a magnet, was pulling the two together. At first it was slowly, then all at once. Oz untangled their hands, bringing their lips together. He tasted like peppermint, sweet and fresh. Emerald smiled, kissing him back.

A shrill, sharp gasp broke them apart, and Em was mortified to see none other than her sister standing in the doorway with her eyes as big as Saucers.

Oz shot Em a guilty look as she rushed to usher her frozen sister out of the doorway.

“It was… so nice to make your acquaintance, your Ozness. I look forward to… working with you.” Em curtsied, shoving her sister down the hallway.

“Emerald Upland you scandelcious little thing, you!” Glinda whispered excitedly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about…”

-/-

To be Continued

[iuhyeah]

first time posting art and it’s my self-ship with the wizard 😔 i luv him so so much it makes me sick

[thesimonthedevious]

sometimes a family is a wizard, his inventor and their adopted daughter

She smiled wide when Glinda saw Tallula-Belle waiting at the doors, fixing her red lace glove. “Oh, you’re allowed out of your library?” Tallula-Belle joked, and Glinda tried to laugh too.   “I simply had to drag her away from her books!” Oz remarked off-handedly, gently guiding Glinda out onto the steps and into the sunlight, “Studious little thing.” she wasn’t sure why Oz was telling lies for her. But there was something comforting about it. Yes, yes, telling lies was awful. But she was doing her best, and Oz could see that, couldn’t he? That was why he was saying she was working so hard, even when she wasn’t. Because she wanted to work hard and surely that was good enough. She had learned over time that she and the Wizard shared some very specific mindsets. 

based on chapter 5 of my fic Should Have Been A Con Man

[yanderedrabbles]

The Sorcerer & The Witch

Once, in a village deep in the heart of the forest, a witch was born.

On that day, the people of the village rejoiced, for it had been many years since a baby had survived childbirth. They came from hill and glen to see you, to thank the forest and the fen for lifting their curse.

Every man from woodcutter to farmer promised to keep you safe. Every woman from fishwife to seamstress swore to do the same. They called you foxfire, after those glowing forest waifs that light the wanderer's path. You were their greatest hope, their greatest pride.

[If only their love was enough to stop the sorcerer from doing what he did to you.]

When you were a child scarcely taller than a man's knee, a merchant came to your village. Driven more by desperation than greed, he'd reached the end of his route  without selling any of his wares and could not bear to return home a failure. So he said his charms and his prayers and set out for your village.

He was greeted warmly, for it had been many years since a merchant had come. He sold all he had to trade, even the tin and lead trinkets that city folk would never glance at. You came up to him when he was drinking and he stared at you with horror, for all the townsfolk on his path warned him that your village was cursed with no children.

But his horror soon turned to delight. You were a bright child and polite and asked him many questions of his travels. The villagers looked at you proudly, to see you impress a man as widely travelled as he.

When he left and stopped at the next town over, he told them of the single child in the childless village. Word soon reached the king and he stroked his beard and summoned his youngest sorcerer.

"It is strange indeed for only one child to have survived thus far. Go and see why that is."

The youngest sorcerer sighed but obeyed. He arrived in your village on the back of a steaming warhorse, his cloak billowing a black cloud behind him. The villagers cringed away in fear, but you walked up to him and bowed and welcomed him.

The sorcerer had a fine eye for magic and he could see a little of it in you. He should have taken you back to the king and had you trained in the craft, but you stood no higher than his thigh and were the only gift these villagers had. He gave you a flower of heart-wood, told you to be kind to others and left.

You grew from a child to young girl. Everywhere you went flowers bloomed.

That spring, a musician came to your village. Driven more by desperation than greed, he'd reached the end of his route without earning either fortune or fame and could not bear to return home a failure. So he said his charms and his prayers and set out for your village.

He was greeted warmly, for it had been many years since a musician had come. He was paid well for all his songs, even the old love ballads city folk would never listen to. You came up to him when he was drinking, scarcely as tall as his chin. He stared at you with horror, for all the townsfolk on his path had warned him that your village was cursed to have no youth.

But his horror soon turned to delight. You were precocious and sweet and asked him many questions about his instruments. The villagers looked at you proudly, to see you impress a man as charming as he.

When he left and stopped at the next town over, he sung about the one girl in the youthless village. Word soon reached the king. He stroked his greying beard and summoned his second youngest sorcerer.

"It is strange indeed for only a single youth to live among so many elders. Go and see why that is."

The second youngest sorcerer sighed but obeyed. He arrived in your village in a brilliant carriage with royal flags snapping in the wind. His guards were dour faced soldiers and the villagers cringed away in fear.

As before, you walked up to him and bowed and welcomed him.

The second youngest sorcerer spent a long time thinking, for your magic had grown and he too had a duty to take you away. But you were not yet a woman and he did not want to steal you from your village before your time. He gave you a flower of fire-heart, told you to be a  be obedient to your parents and left.

When next the king heard of you, many years had passed.

People spoke of you near and far - said that animals and trees bowed their heads when you walked past, that flowers grew in your footsteps, that you could heal any sickness of soul or body.

The king stroked his beard - all of it now as white as snow - and summoned the oldest and most powerful of his sorcerers.

"It is strange indeed for a village girl to have such powers. Go and see why that is."

The strongest sorcerer was a man well versed in even the darkest, most arcane magic and had lived through three lifetimes already. He had the face and the strength of a young man, but eyes like chips of stone.

He didn't sigh as the other two did before him. He only smiled in that distant, icy way of his and said he would be glad to obey.

He arrived in your village in the dead of night without horse or guards, a wolf skin cloak wrapped around him. The villagers paid him no mind - you alone noticed him and bid him welcome.

The sorcerer caught his breath. For you were indeed beautiful, and the trees and the animals did indeed bow their heads to. But more than that, your magic had grown from a trickle to a torrent. As old and immortal as he was, he had met few who possessed as much raw power as you did.

The sorcerer grew wary, for even he could not match your strength. If ever you turned your anger on the kingdom, you could turn cities to ash and armies to stone with a wave of your hand. You offered him some water to drink and as he watched you, he contrived an awful plan.

The sorcerer was a handsome man and could be as chivalrous as any knight if he chose. He gently took your hand in his and begged you to meet him in the forest.

You were sheltered, naive and no man had ever looked at you as he did. You blushed and simpered but made no promises.

The next day, he brought you a heart-wood flower and kissed your hand when he handed it to you.

"Heart-wood for your kiss, my lady."

You were just a village girl and no man had ever called you lady as he did, no one except the sorcerers had ever given you so fine a gift. Still, you did not go to meet him.

The next day, he brought you a flower of fire-heart and kissed your cheek when he handed it to you.

"Fire-heart for the fire of your love, my darling."

Your heart leapt at his touch, at the warmth of his body beside you. In a tumble of thoughts and confusion, you wondered what it would feel like if he kissed other parts of you. Despite the love you were beginning to feel for him, you still did not go to meet him.

On the third day, he brought you a flower of mountain-heart made entirely of diamond and kissed your lips.

"Mountain-heart in exchange for yours, my love."

You were his then, heart and soul, and he knew it. Perhaps it is a testament to his cruelty that he could make you fall for him so easily and feel nothing in return.

That night you set forth to meet him.

The brambles caught at your cloak as you walked, the deer rushed headlong along your path to confuse your way, the foxfire flickered. The whole forest tried to warn you. You were blind and deaf to it all, your mind filled only with thoughts of your handsome suitor.

He met you in a clearing under the moonlight and when you opened your arms to embrace him, he snapped his fingers and bound you to the earth with magic.

You struggled in vain, too frightened and betrayed to think straight.

"You are too wild and dangerous to let live," the sorcerer said, his magic twisting tighter around your arms.

You thrashed and whimpered, moonlight on your skin. The sorcerer was immortal and thought himself beyond mortal cares, but he was still a man.

He watched your dress slipping off your shoulder as you struggled and something began to stir in him. The hunger all men feel when a woman is helpless before them.

He touched his hand to your thigh and shivered at the warmth. "You are such a rare creature," he mused. "Beautiful and dangerous all at once."

He looked at you as no man had ever looked at you before. Eyes full of a desire you couldn't name.

Sweet, naive girl. How were you to know not to trust men sweet smiles but wolf eyes? How were you to know how hot desire burns? It scorches away morals and scruples, burns away guilt.

The sorcerer had his way with you. He stilled your tongue with magic, so you couldn't scream when he pulled your skirts higher up your thighs. He bound your arms behind your back so you couldn't scratch at him when he forced his way between your legs.

You didn't know anything about magic. Didn't even realise you had any. How could you fight against a man with centuries of learning? Countless spells?

When he was done and had laced up his trousers, he looked at you through eyes wicked with guile. Greed whispered in his ear - greed for your power, greed for your flesh.

"I won't kill you, girl. It would be an awful waste of magic." He stroked your cheek and you jerked away from him, unable to stand any more of his touch.

His magic grew tighter around you and he looked at you with an expression as remote and cold as the moon.

"I will instead bind you to me. Make you my servant and my slave for all eternity, able to speak and do only as I command."

You thrashed in your bindings and the earth trembled with your panicking magic. But for all the strength in you, you could not match the skill of the sorcerer.

His enchantment dug through your skin and into your rib cage. You screamed, cursed him and his gods. You would have turned the whole kingdom to ash with your fear if his magic wasn't holding you.

He took your face in his hands and you turned your head to bite into his palm. You bit hard enough to draw blood but he was too deep in his conjuring to either notice or care.

That's what you remember most about that night - the metal smell of his magic and the metal taste of his blood.

His magic was in your heart, in the very core of you. You could feel it like a hand touching the most sacred thing you owned. He was taking what no one else in the world could even touch.

The king's sorcerer wrapped your heart in magic and carefully - for he was afraid of you, despite his strength and his years - linked it to his own. You sagged against your bindings, your strength leaking out of you. He pulled your face up to meet his eyes and all he saw looking back at him was a dull compliance.

"You will listen and obey."

"I will listen and obey," you echoed. Inside your mind, you raged against the chains he'd drawn. But the sorcerer knew his work and when he withdrew his magic vines, you followed him demurely.

In the morning, he announced to the villagers that he was taking you as an apprentice and they all rejoiced to see you climb so high in the world. You hugged them and kissed them goodbye. The sorcerer was adept at his puppeteering and not a one noticed the screaming soul inside you.

The sorcerer held you in thrall. For a decade and then two, you followed at his heels and lent him your magic. He felled armies with a wave of his hand, parted the sea with a breath. Made the humble king of your kingdom into an emperor.

He had you whenever and wherever he pleased - bent over his desk or sprawled in the silk of his bed. Begging him to be gentle and begging him to be rough. He made your body respond to him, made you pull him closer and whisper that you loved him.

Trapped inside a body that you couldn't control, you grew hateful. The sweet village girl was gone, burnt away by the heat of his lips and skin on yours. Fom your awful prison inside yourself, you promised vengeance.

You watched and you waited and you plotted. When the third decade of your imprisonment came, the king passed and the crown prince was named his successor. He was strong and brave, but had little trust in magic and no trust at all in the sorcerer.

The moment he was crowned, he summoned the sorcerer.

"As a show of trust between us, I would have you keep your witch consort here at court," he ordered.

The sorcerer wanted to quarrel with the prince but his years had taught him it was too troublesome to make enemies of the powerful. He agreed to leave you at court while he went about the kingdom on his work. Afterall, what's a single season to an immortal?

For three decades he held the spell on you. Your obedience and the love he made you show had lulled him into a false sense of security. He had forgotten the hate on your face when first he chained you.

He bowed his head in obedience to the new king and gave you your chance to escape.

The king trusted you as little as he trusted the sorcerer and commanded you to stay near his side. From dawn til dusk you followed him. You were beautiful, as unchanged as the day the sorcerer captured you. And despite the prince's wariness and despite his best efforts, he began to fall for you.

On a night when the stars were shining cold and cruel, when the moon was newly hatched and invisible to the eye, you let your hair fall loose around your shoulders and dropped your layers of skirts and petticoats. Until you wore nothing but a white shift that showed the silhouette of your body when you stood in front of the fireplace.

The king found you waiting for him in his room, the firelight reflected off your hair. To his credit, he tried to turn you away. Tried to be noble and honour your virtue.

But he was still a man.

You'd learnt a long and hard lesson about the restraint of men. You laid your hand on his chest and felt the beat of his heart. There were precious few things the sorcerer allowed you to say, but you managed to find some words not restricted by his curse.

"My lord, I'm cold. Will you not warm me?"

The king's eyes grew dark with desire and his noble ideas of virtue crumbled under your touch. You pulled his face toward you and bit at his neck until he did the same to you.

You spent the night with king, teasing him until his restraint broke and he left bruises on your thighs.

The sorcerer came back on the full moon.

He slipped your dress from your shoulders and saw the bite marks littered across your chest. His grip grew tighter and the shadows of the room lengthened.

"Who?" he growled in a voice terrible with anger, "Who has touched you? Who dared to take what's mine and mine alone?"

"The king," you answered, for you couldn't lie to him.

"For how long?" he asked, as hearth fire began to flicker an awful green. "How many weeks has he had you in his bed?"

"Since the new moon," you answered, for his magic forced you to speak.

The sorcerer stood for a moment as still as the dead. Then his rage exploded in a ball of green fire.

It ripped through the walls of the castle, burnt through mortar and brick, through armour and bone. Distantly, people began to scream. In a blink of magic, he moved you both to the throne room, where the king was holding counsel.

The sorcerer clenched his fist and fire ripped through the throne room. It melted the great metal throne and turned the king to smouldering ash in a second.

In his rage, the sorcerer's magic was wild and unstable. With a bite of your wrist and a tremendous pull of magic, you were able to loosen your heart from his curse.

If he were not blinded by jealousy and bloodlust, he would have noticed it immediately.

His magic roared until the great palace was was in ruins, marble melted and running like metal.

Perhaps, were you were still innocent to the cruelty of men, you might have felt guilty. Might have felt horror at the charred husks of the king and his men.

But your years of captivity hardened you and all you cared about was escape.

When it was done, the sorcerer took your face in his palms and kissed you, without a single care for the palace that smoldered around him.

"You are mine," the sorcerer purred, "No matter how much the prince wished it otherwise."

You kept your face as carefully blank as if you were still under his spell and stabbed him in the heart.

It gave you just enough time to wrap your magic around him and bind him to the earth. He roared, pulling and twisting to no use.

You felt his magic weakening and for the first time in three decades, you were able to speak with your own tongue.

"What am I to do with you, sorcerer? For three decades you've held me. For three decades I've been your slave. "

You flicked your wrist and the fire around you flickered to nothing. It was only him and you and the moon, as it had been so long ago.

"For each year that passed, I thought of a different revenge. Cut you into little pieces while you're still alive and feed you to the ravens. Drain all your magic and leave you a wandering madman, entirely reliant on the mercy of others. Burn you at the stake."

Even in chains of magic, the sorcerer was formidable. A tiger waiting for a single misstep to pounce. Even as your prisoner, he looked unafraid.

It made an icy cruelty well up in you.

"No, sorcerer," you said in a voice like tombs opening, "All that is far too good for you."

You reached forward and plucked at the magic that held you to his will. In the beginning, all you wanted was to cut that connection, have total freedom. But you'd had three decades to learn cruelty and now a better idea came to you.

Your magic hooked into his heart, into the very core of his being. You could feel it like a hand touching the most sacred thing he owned. You reversed the spell and took from him what no one else in the world could even touch.

When it was done, you held his face in your hands.

"You will listen and obey."

He was the strongest sorcerer in the kingdom, perhaps in the world. He was the man who tormented you and used you.

"I will listen and obey," the sorcerer echoed.

He was the monster of all your nightmares. And now he was your slave.

On your travels, you heard of a village where babies never survived birth.

When you reached it, you were greeted warmly, for it had been many years since a traveller had come.

A child came up to you when you were drinking, a spright of a girl scarcely taller than your thigh. You looked at her with delight, for all the townsfolk on your path warned you that this village was cursed with no children.

"What are you?" she asked.

"A foxfire witch," you replied.

She mulled this over without fear.

"What do witches do?"

You smiled and conjured a heart-wood flower out of the air. She gasped and took it delicately, startled by it's beauty. More fine than anything in the village.

"I warn little girls about the dangers of the world."

You didn't say the rest out loud, but your thoughts floated on the wind and perhaps she understood the wisps of them.

I warn little girls about the cruelty and the lust of men. So that they are never caught as unguarded as I was.

Behind you, the sorcerer waited patiently with the horses. If his soul was screaming inside him, no one heard it.

[ozzgin]

Yandere!Wizard has been dead for many years now, though he doesn't seem to be entirely aware of his circumstances. You found him wandering on a foggy evening, mumbling to himself.

"It's the entrance exam," he explained once he noticed your curious stare. "The Magic Academy is quite strict when it comes to its students, you see. It's my third time taking it..."

Ah. Intrigued, you discreetly pulled out your phone and searched for the name he mentioned. Surprisingly enough, you did stumble upon articles about it: old legends of a school for witches and wizards, said to have crumbled into ruins hundreds of years ago.

You scratched your cheek, unsure of your next step. Should you let the poor soul know that he'd been studying pointlessly for over a century? How much of an airhead does one even have to be not to notice?

"I don't think there'll be an exam," you began, uncertain. "For once, the school no longer exists. Then there's also the fact that you're...rather dead," you expressed delicately.

He pondered your words, then observed his own hands. Why, they were indeed particularly transparent.

"Interesting," he remarked silently.

Well, what then? His one and only goal had been the exam. You let him consider his options and walked away, returning to your own business.

When you arrived home, you nearly tripped on his crouched form, sleeping soundly on the ground. He jolted awake, then dusted his robes.

"I figured I'd just follow you around," he concluded flatly. "You need a husband?"

"I prefer the ones with a pulse," you confessed.

"Nonsense. Don't be superficial. I have a lot of magic tricks up my sleeve."

You eyed him suspiciously. Somehow, the offer wasn’t as convincing from the mouth of someone who failed the basics twice.

Was it too late to exorcise him?

[malfoysanctuary]

as much as I love writing...sometimes I get an itch for a good read myself. here are the stories I ALWAYS reach for, please check them out and give the authors some love ❤️‍🔥

*updated as I find good reads*

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✧.* fluff ⋆ | ˚꩜｡ series | ⚠︎ angst | 🔞 smut | ✪ g's star reads

Draco Malfoy

✧.* The Alchemy by (@lqveharrington) ✪ ⤷ Although Draco promised that he would keep your relationship a secret just for you, he can’t contain himself after winning the Hogwarts quidditch cup. ✧.* Someday by (@lqveharrington) ⤷ you and draco are from opposing houses, and you were terrified how your friends were going to react when they found out. ⚠︎ sweet disaster by (@redeemingvillains) ⤷ you and draco are inseparable friends, but deeper feelings come to light when you're asked on a date with someone who is determined to take advantage of you. ✧.* Deck the Halls by (@writingsbychlo) ⤷ Narcissa has big plans for her son's girlfriend this time of year, and you're determined to live up to her expectations. 🔞 Flutterby Baby by (@agreeewrites) ✪ ⤷ Draco finds out another student sabotaged your Herbology project. 🔞 Bad Santa by (@agreeewrites) ⤷ Your boyfriend Draco has thrown the Christmas party of the year, and wears a Santa hat to make you smile. But jealousy quickly throws a wrench into your festive evening.

Theodore Nott

✧.* Words Unspoken by (@girllblogging777) ⤷ in a moment of loneliness and feeling misunderstood, theo finds out you also speak Italian. ✧.* careful, cara by (@iris-qt) ⤷ an oblivious Y/n misinterprets Theodore's flirtatious Italian nicknames and suave demeanor as mere politeness, while Theo grows increasingly perplexed by her indifference to his romantic overtures. 🔞 spoiled by (@dracosprettygirl) ⤷ Theo was convinced you'd never look his way—until a Hogsmeade date leaves your heart bruised and angry. Now, Theo's done hiding his feelings... And ready to ruin every man who ever made you feel unworthy. THE BEST LOVE STORIES by (@@writingsbychlo) ⤷ theo is in love and doesn’t want to have to hide it. ✧.* My Husband by (@bunny-1111) ⤷ The one thing that drives Theo literally crazy is when you call him "my husband"

Mattheo Riddle

✧.* veritaserum by (@redeemingvillains) ⤷ when mattheo drinks veritaserum on a bet, he's confident he doesn't have anything to hide… until you show up. ✧.* cold comfort by (@redeemingvillains) ✪ ⤷ mattheo has one rule: any girl can share his bed (and there's been plenty) but none can stay the night. when the unexpected happens, and you're begging to be the first, you find out why he had the rule in the first place. ⚠︎ the black lake by (@redeemingvillains) ⤷ mattheo is hogwarts' triwizard tournament champion, and he's proven that he can crush the competition. but when the stakes are raised, and you're involved, nothing will get in his way. ✧.* the playlist by (@redeemingvillains) ⤷ enzo overhears something about you he shouldn't have and when he tells his friends, all hell breaks loose. ⚠︎ riddle's girl by (@redeemingvillains) ⤷ mattheo has...feelings about you wearing his quidditch jersey. ˚꩜｡ the new girl by (@redeemingvillains) ⤷ despite their best and most ardent efforts, each of the slytherin boys gets rejected by you, and can't figure out why, not knowing that one of them holds a secret that explains it all. ⚠︎ Dove by (@redeemingvillains) ⤷ fed up with the way the slytherin boys create chaos without consequence, someone seeks to bring them down a notch by going after the one thing their strongest loves most: you. ✧.* His Soft Spot by (@ravenclaw-for-all-seasons) ⤷ Mattheo Riddle's icy demeanor melts away in the presence of you, revealing a side of him that even his closest friends didn't expect. charmed, i'm sure by (@iris-qt) ⤷ feat. accidental truth serum, public chaos, and one very flustered reader)

Remus Lupin

🔞 Waiting by (@dismalflo) ✪ ⤷ you and Remus have been dancing around your feelings for each other for a while. Both too stubborn for your own good, but what happens when that stubbornness helps you both out?

Sirius Black

˚꩜｡ Hardass by (@ellecdc) ⤷ Sirius Black is all sharp edges and heat in the kitchen, until a quick-witted bartender strolls in, and leaves him completely undone.

Fred Weasley

✧.* through the seasons by (@kyber-crystal ) ⤷ he would love you till the end of time. everyone can see it, and they can only hope that you’ll come to your senses and realize that too. 🔞 Another Man's Treasure by (@spencersmopbucket) ⤷ You're Cormac McLaggen's girlfriend — but Cormac pays more attention to Quidditch than you. Shame, shame.. Fred just can't let you go to waste. 🔞 Wicked by (@andy-15-07) ⤷ A lazy afternoon turns into something much more when Fred Weasley can't keep his eyes—or hands—off you

Lorenzo Berkshire

⚠︎ closed and locked by (@redeemingvillains) ⤷ you are overwhelming smitten with lorenzo berkshire. fact: you think he’s smitten with you too. but when you and pansy hear something you shouldn’t have, it has you questioning everything you thought you knew about hogwarts’ biggest flirt.

Why choose? (Poly)

✧.* emergency contact by (@cosmal) ⤷ james gets called when you faint at work. and then sirius. then remus. you feel awful. ✧.* The Boy is Mine by (@colouredbyd) ⤷ you’re quiet by nature, content in the background—until someone pushes too far. When a girl flirts with Remus, something shifts. With one kiss and a quiet claim, you remind everyone exactly who he ( and Sirius) belong to.

[mogwaei]

Short buff wizard can carry her sad wizard and all his burdens (and secrets)!

[Maelgwn / Solas]

Part two

[mo-aiki]

The Beautiful Maiden, Who Turned into a Swan - Prologue

Summary: You were a happy princess, living in a carefree life, with your best friend in the entire world, until one day, he turned you into a swan. M. Yandere Prince x F. Reader x M. Yandere Sorcerer.

Notes: inspired by obviously, Swan Lake. And also childhood favorites, The Swan Princess and Barbie of Swan Lake.

Warning: obsessive love, erratic behavior, stalking, mentions of violence, violent behavior, I don't condone it, I just write it.

You lived your best life.

As a princess of a small, rather unknown kingdom, you were your most happiest being surrounded by those you loved.

Your father was king, your mother, although dead, had high hopes for you. Your brother was young and cheeky. Everyone respected you, calling you kind.

You woke up everyday in your bedroom, getting ready, and enjoying your days in the royal greenhouse and garden, when one day, you met a boy, around your age. You were 12 at the time you met him. "Hello, my name is (y/n). What's yours?"

He didn't talk. He looked at you like you were going to harm him, and by his body language of him scooting away from you. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you."

You gently got him to stand up, while you dusted the dirt off of his hair and clothes. "I'm (y/n). What's your name?"

The young boy mumbled. "...Roth..."

"Roth?"

The boy nodded as you smiled. "Roth. Would you play with me?"

You felt all alone when it came to the topic of playing. All your close friends were servants, who got tired once you played too hard with them. But Roth was around your age, right? So of course he would play with you!

For 5 years, you 2 were inseparable. Roth became a prodigy of a sorcerer. He was very talented. He could make bubbles into flowers, turn a toad into a beautiful swan, and was perfect in his defensive and offensive magic. So much so that if you didn't have guards around, he would assign Roth to guard you.

You spent your days, laughing and playing around with Roth, until one day, he had gotten more quiet than usual.

"Roth."

"Hm?"

"Do you think I'm pretty to you?" A question you would obviously ask your best friend in the whole wide world to.

"No, you are ugly."

You laughed. "Stop playing around. Am I really pretty?"

Roth closed his book. "Why are you asking?"

You laid your back against the blanket as you stared up at the sky. "Because father told me I am to be wed in a couple of months. After I turn 18."

Roth was a bit quieter than usual, but you didn't mind his quiet nature. You knew he at least listened. "Father said that the prince of another kingdom said I looked pretty in the portraits they sent of me. Apparently, the kingdom is run by one of father's bestet of friends..."

Roth opened his book back up. "Well then, he must have bad taste because you are ugly..."

You pouted in his face. "Goodness, don't be mean. He does not have bad taste. In fact, he's very handsome, and obviously, good-looking people must have good taste!" You laughed.

You didn't know that the comment you made would cause Roth to tightly grip his book.

On the early hours on the day of your eighteenth birthday, Your kingdom had burned to the ground. Running away throughout the chaos of the castle, you made it to the throne room, hiding behind the curtains behind your father's throne. Your father, there as well, donned in his armor. All you could smell was burnt, human ash everywhere. All you could hear was the curdling screams of people being burned alive from the many fires that donned the kingdom. All you could see was almost pitch black. Your father covered your ears as your eyes erupted in tears.

Mary, your maid who had cared for you like an older sister.

Aldus, the head butler, who was a kind old man, soon rearing the age where he would retire from his position.

Elric, the stableman who helped you ride your horse, Matilda for the first time.

Jocosa, the maid who seemed rather rude at first, but really cared for others, not wanting them to get hurt.

Emma, your tutor who was strict but kind and always loved you like a motherly figure.

And your little brother, Theo, who was so cheeky and mischievous.

All of them dead from burning from the fire. You could hear Theo's screams, calling out for you and your father, before it was too late.

Today, was meant to be a day of celebration. A day of joy. A day full of fun and splendid memories. But soon you snapped out of your daydream when both your and your father heard footsteps approaching the throne room. Stopping your tears, you held your breath. Not wanting the man who burned your kingdom to notice you or your father. "I know both of you are here."

You squeaked as lightly as possible, as your father got up. You shook your head, tears flowing out your eyes while doing so. Your father kissed your forehead as he hugged you tight. "(y/n), don't worry about me. I will be back before you know it..."

Your father walked out from behind the curtain as you could only peak through an opening. "Your Majesty."

You recognized the voice and the silhouette of the man. 'Roth?!' you thought. "Rothbart! Stop this at once!" your father had commanded.

There was only a silence between them as your father yelled once more. "STOP THIS AT ONCE ROTHBART!"

You could tell that your father was scared. His fingers looked like they were twitching, trying to unsheathed his sword from his scabbard. "I, King Fredhelm the II, will stop you from burning my kingdom down to ash!"

Your father ran with his sword, as he was burned. Before you could see it, you held your mouth shut, and closed your eyes, feeling your tear rushing out. You heard your father's screams as you shut your eyes even harder and covered your ears. The heat of the fire felt close to you, until you opened your eyes, to see ash all over the place, turning your head to see Roth take you in his hand and dragging you out of the kingdom.

You struggled at his grip, as he took you on horse and rode, far away from your home, as you watch it fall into a sea of flames, with the sounds of screaming waves, fading the further away you were.

You cried on the horse as Roth tried to soothe you. He wanted you to know why he did this.

It's because of you

Afraid of you running away he turned you into a swan against your will. "Your beautiful like a swan (y/n)...too beautiful."

The process was painful. As the sun slowly rose from the east, your skin felt like it was being forcefully shedding, like it burned and soon you turned into a swan by morning.

Roth smiled bittersweetly. "I had to do this (y/n). Your too beautiful, and as such, nobody can see you."

A swan by day, and a princess by night. Those tales only come out of legends, and soon you were a legend when men noticed you alone on the lake at night in the moonlight. They died that same night.

Roth killing them, and then hugging you, tightly.

And thus for the next 10 years, you were nothing more than a legend, and were being used by Rothbart, to fulfill his desires to be complete.

A/N: IM BACK!!! I will take a millennium to update this story due to school. Thank you!

[aurynsia]

Unrequited, Terrifying Chapter 7

James Potter x Reader

Summary: Your secret admirer finally gets the girl…

Warnings: HARD LAUNCH! Use of flashbacks, extremely fluffy, nervous!james x shy!reader, idiots in love, lovesick!james, no use of Y/N, OC!friends, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, quiet!reader, NOT EDITED!

Word Count: 1.2K

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Platform 9¾ was bursting with energy as the new group of first years clambered onto the Hogwarts Express. James had tucked himself in between Remus, Sirius, and Peter, practically jumping in his seat as he introduced himself to his new friends.

The four boys had excitedly rambled back and forth about their prospects at the exciting school of witchcraft and wizardry, only settling down when the train finally began to move as they waved goodbye to their families through the window.

The door slid open with an awkward creak, alerting the young Marauders to a small girl standing in the doorway. “Hi, um- can I sit here? The other cabins are full…” you spoke softly, twisting your feet in an anxious habit and biting your bottom lip.

James’ breath hitched, innocent eyes growing wide as he took you in. He nervously pushed up his glasses as his friends ushered you inside, moving food wrappers off of a seat to make room for your form.

You introduced yourself with a shy smile, promising not to bother them as you shoved your nose in a book for the rest of the journey.

James couldn’t help but ogle at your soft expressions, reacting to the exciting fantasy unfolding in between the pages of your novel. He gulped as his face grew visibly warmer, pushing up his glasses once more before turning back to his new entourage of mischief makers, already planning what would be their first of many pranks.

The Great Hall swarmed with chaos as students filtered in through gaping doors. The Sorting Hat had played in James’ favour, allowing all of his new friends into the house of brave hearted heroes.

He laughed with his friends as they stumbled to the Gryffindor Table, only distracted once again by the girl with the hat on her head. “Gryffindor!” The hat exclaimed, your eyes thrown wide with surprise as you tediously moved towards the four boys.

James grinned at you as you nodded in his direction, choosing to sit on the far end of the table with two girls who shared that stunned expression. When his attention returned to his three friends, he was met with a round of teasing coos and knowing smirks, causing him to sink down in his chair with a blush painted across his cheeks. The Sorting Hat really had answered all of his prayers.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

You stood tentatively in the crowd of red and gold, etched between Charlie and Hope in the stands as your eyes curiously followed Gryffindor’s seeker.

The Quidditch pitch was filled with adrenaline as Slytherin rocked and tumbled against the force of the lion. James Potter was speeding through the mass of players, a joyful laugh permanently plastered on his face as he wove through the commotion.

Your red sweater was proudly on display in the stands, disguised as your warmest clothing when asked why you were in house colours. You didn’t dare tell your roommates about your newfound support for the team after the introduction of their newest fourth year seeker, but they slowly caught on as your blush began to match your clothing every time the boy flew purposefully close.

His laugh faltered with a gasp when he caught your eye in the stands, glancing at your attire that you failed to cover with your hands. Your eyes met for another brief moment before Gryffindor’s golden boy was soaring once again with newfound vigour.

Your gaze followed his figure in the air, a soft smile evident on your lips. Charlie and Hope leaned forward slightly to pass a knowing smile across your stiff form, only returning their gaze to the field as their house won the match.

The walk back to the common room was quiet, a soft hum of nature surrounding the three of you as you marched along the path. That was until Charlie’s curiosity got the better of her.

“So…Potter looked quite dashing up there, don’t you think, Hope?” She pretended to ponder, gaze to the night sky. “Why, he was really something! That speed made his hair quite an endearing mess, right, love?” Hope turned to you with a teasing smirk, patiently awaiting your flustered answer.

“Uh- yeah! Yeah, he was good, you know, for an egomaniac…” you kept your eyes fixed on the path ahead of you, praying to Merlin that your blush wasn’t visible in the darkness.

“Mhmm…he seemed quite taken by this little number of yours,” Hope gestured up and down your body, “maybe you want to fuel that pretty little ego of his, hmm?” You were surrounded by a chorus of amused chuckles from your friends as your face burned under the interrogation.

“No! Well, maybe…he looked cute in the uniform, that’s all! Nothing to write home about…” You pouted with furrowed brows, kicking a pebble in your path as your friends broke out in teasing cheers.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

The Gryffindor table was filtered with soft morning light as your group eagerly grasped at any food they could get their hands on. James tucked himself securely into your side, a smug grin plastered on his face as you grumbled words of frustration, brows dipped and lips pouting at the lack of opportunity to serve yourself.

Sirius cheerfully loaded food onto his plate before passing the bowl to James, dodging your outstretched hands. Your look of frustration was about to shift to anger before the sweet boy beside you began scraping the leftovers in his grasp onto your empty plate. You turned to him with a grateful smile that he could stare at for hours, squeezing him around his middle in thanks before diving into your meal.

James continued to pile food in front of you, planting kisses across your cheeks between servings and spoonfuls before draping an arm across your shoulders. “Not so grumpy anymore, are you love?” James chuckled, “Maybe a certain boyfriend has lifted your spirits?”

You swallowed your mouthful as you nodded eagerly, looking up at him with wide eyes that melted his heart. “I think I’m finally getting this Gryffindor pride thing,” you mumbled as you reached for another spoonful of food, “Dating the captain of the Quidditch team is certainly an ego boost.”

James grinned at you, brushing his nose against your cheek with a mischievous expression. He was finally beginning to fall into a comforting routine with you, brushing aside any nerves your soft smile might ignite in him.

The others looked at the sweet pair with satisfaction, sharing looks of relief after you announced yourselves as an official couple.

“Merlin, it’s about time!” Sirius exclaimed, hitting the table hard enough to lift plates in the air at contact. The group laughed with amusement as James leant into your warmth, arms enclosed around your torso as he sighed into your skin.

The overbearing dread of unrequited, terrifying love that clouded his logic had melted away with your simple touch. This will be his year. The year he shares with you.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed this little series! While this is the official end to the story, feel free to request some blurbs based on these two characters in my asks! Thank you to everyone who patiently stuck with me while I worked on this, I’m eternally grateful for all your support <3

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Taglist: @1-queenofpotatoes-1 @caspiankingofnarnia @thesuitelifeofafangirl @moonydoodlez @fionnalopez @kawaiiarbitervoid @kc2sstuff @rafeyswrd @mads12043 @spicybearnaise @ch3rry-vine @probabydeadbynow @ilovejamespottersomuch @mqg125 @sofiacblair @valenftcrush @revesephemeres @louweenier @the-lavender-girl @empath-bunny @bmyva1entine

[serpentsillusion]

──✧❅✦❅✧───❅•|•|•❅───✧❅✦❅✧──

Sebastian: And how exactly do you expect to defeat Ranrok?

Ominis: Yes, do tell.

MC: Dude, he's like 2'ft tall.

Sebastian: Yeah? He's also got an immense set of powers.

MC: And? So do I bitch.

*MC finds Ranrok*

Ranrok: Oh, look it's the child.

MC: Shut the hell up!! *Punts him like a football*

Ranrok: *high-pitched screeching as he soars through the air*

*MC goes back to Sebastian and Ominis*

MC: I've defeated Ranrok.

──✧❅✦❅✧───❅•|•|•❅───✧❅✦❅✧──

Hey guys! I'm so sorry I've been lagging BIG TIME on Tumblr recently. I've been dealing with bad depression, working full time, and going through medical problems regarding carcinoma (which is a form of cancer) BUT! everything came back normal, so YAY! My doctor is also watching me for glaucoma which runs in my family. Glaucoma causes permanent blindness over time that can't be surgically fixed. So, yeah...that hurt me deeply as an artist, writer and avid gamer. Apologies to you all for not posting, but I figured I'd bless you all with this lovely "whatever the hell this is" Also! It's my birthday tomorrow, so I'll be hella busy! Thank you all for supporting me and sticking through the MIA profile. Love you all! xoxo, Si. 🐍✨💚

[thesimonthedevious]

Should Have Been A Conman: Chapter 5

Time marches onwards, and everyone's routines change. Glinda finds solace, maybe even family, in the Wizard and Tallula-Belle as she feels isolated from everyone else.

The walk through the City was always interesting for Glinda, moreso when she was on her own. The few times she walked with Morrible, it was to get from Point A to Point B with no interruptions. But on her own, Glinda was free to stop at the windows and stare at new dresses; to look at the sparkling paintings; to pick up postcards and buy three each time: one for her parents, one for Fiyero, and one for...  

Glinda thought she had lagged behind, but when she looked ahead, she saw Oz had stopped himself at one of the stands. “Look at this!” he pointed at the little train on a monorail, “In the air, isn’t that interesting! Track not just on the ground...”  

Tallula-Belle took his arm, “Yes, come on, you’re already late.”  

“I like this.” he said pointedly, eyeing her up. Tallula-Belle gave him an equally strong stare.  

“I thought you would. So maybe you should forget about it.” she squeezed. Oz nearly pouted, but then it dawned on him. He gave the approaching Glinda a knowing look, smug as the trio walked on.  

[incorrectquotesharrypotterv]

Y/n: Just… Apologize to each other on the count of three.

Y/n: One, two, three.

Tom:

Mattheo:

Y/n: Well, now I'm disappointed in both of you.

[ozzgin]

You return to your apartment and discover that your persistent ghastly guest is not only still here, but he seems to have brought his trunk of magic accessories, too.

Presently, he is mumbling to himself, staring into a crystal ball.

"Fortune telling is part of a wizard's repertoire, you know," he states factually without looking at you. "I was pretty good at it."

"Yeah? And you couldn't foresee that the school would've closed down?"

He clicks his tongue. Clearly you're mocking him for the simple mistake of not realizing his rather dead circumstances for only a couple hundred years. No matter, he won't be derailed from his path.

"I can't see that far into the future," he explains with a huff.

"What can you see, then?"

"Someone will be getting laid tonight. It's going to be kinky."

He turns to you with a triumphant grin.

"I don't think it counts as fortune telling," you argue. "I can see the handcuffs dangling from your pocket. You were literally planning on it just now, weren't you?"

He floats towards you, then lightly drags you towards the bedroom.

"Don't question a wizard's magic. It works in mysterious ways."

[Ghost Wizard Intro]

[choccy-milky]

dad seb dad seb dad seb 💕

[malfoysanctuary]

In the Palm of Your Hands

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: He had never been one for softness, never let himself crave the warmth of another—not until you. And now, with your fingers tracing constellations along his skin, he realizes just how starved he is for a touch that doesn't wound but soothes.

The first time you touch him, really touch him, he stiffens.

It's subtle—the way his shoulders lock, the sharp intake of breath that never quite makes it out as an exhale—but you feel it beneath your fingertips. A reaction so ingrained in him, so deeply embedded, that you can almost hear the unspoken thought running through his mind: Bracing. Preparing. Waiting.

For what? You don’t want to know.

But what you do know is this: he isn’t used to being touched gently. He isn’t used to fingers that soothe rather than strike, to warmth that doesn’t burn.

Your fingers ghost down his forearm, slow and deliberate, barely there. You give him time—to pull away, to stop you, to tell you this is something he doesn’t want.

But he doesn’t move.

He only stares down at where your hand meets his skin, as if the sensation is foreign, unreal. His breath is shallow, controlled, but you feel the tremor beneath his skin. Not fear. Not discomfort. Something else.

Need.

Hunger.

A quiet, aching sort of yearning, as if he wants nothing more than to lean into the warmth of your touch but doesn’t know how.

You thread your fingers through his, locking your hands together fully. “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

His jaw tightens. “I’m not.”

You squeeze his hand once. “Then why do you look like you’re about to bolt?”

His laugh is hollow, humorless. “Because I don’t—” He stops himself, as if realizing the weight of his own words. “I don’t know how to do this.”

You soften, running your thumb over his knuckles. “You don’t have to do anything. Just let me be here.”

For a long moment, he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t move. But then, just as you think he might pull away, he exhales, his body sagging ever so slightly. Not much. But enough.

And it’s a start.

It doesn’t happen all at once.

At first, it’s just the small things. Your hand resting briefly on his arm as you pass in the corridors. Your fingers skimming over his when you hand him a book in the library. The way your thigh presses against his beneath the table in the Great Hall.

He never stops you.

But he never asks for it, either.

Until one night, when something shifts.

It’s late. The fire in the common room burns low, the castle silent save for the distant howl of the wind outside. You find him by the window, his silhouette outlined by moonlight, his expression distant.

You hesitate for only a moment before walking up behind him, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He shakes.

The tremor is slight, barely there, but you feel it.

“Hey,” you murmur, stepping around to face him fully. “You okay?”

His gaze flickers to yours, something unreadable behind his eyes. He doesn’t answer.

Instead, he reaches out, hesitant but deliberate, his fingers brushing against your wrist. A silent question. A plea.

You answer by taking his hand and guiding him back to the couch. He lets you, lets you pull him down beside you, lets you wrap your arms around him as he tenses—just for a moment—before melting against you.

And Merlin, does he melt.

His head falls against your shoulder, his body pressing into yours, like he’s trying to crawl into your skin, like he can’t get close enough. His breath is warm against your neck, ragged and uneven. You feel the way his hands tighten around the fabric of your sweater, the way his fingers dig in like he’s afraid you’ll let go.

You don’t.

Instead, you shift so he can press his face into the crook of your neck, your fingers threading into his hair, rubbing slow, soothing circles.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper, lips brushing against his temple. “I promise.”

His exhale is shaky. “I—” His voice cracks. He swallows. “I don’t know why this is so—”

“Hard?” you finish for him.

A small nod against your skin.

You sigh softly, tightening your hold. “Because no one ever taught you it could be easy.”

He stills.

And then, after a long pause, he whispers, “No.”

Your heart clenches.

You pull back just enough to cup his face in your hands, tilting his chin so he has to meet your gaze. His eyes are dark, guarded, but there’s something raw beneath the surface. Something vulnerable.

You stroke your thumb along his cheekbone, softer than anything he’s ever known. “It can be easy,” you murmur. “With me, it will be.”

His breath catches, and for the first time, he doesn’t just let you hold him.

He leans into it.

And he doesn’t let go.

[voltaical-art]

some warden doodles + zevran

no deep thoughts hes just very fun to draw