#pink bow: helga

[orqheuss]

My darling, my sweetheart, I am in your sway

(Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow/F!Reader FLUFF)

Summary:

Sebastian pushed away from the wooden column, making his way towards the pair of you, before reaching out his hand in your direction and speaking with the most ridiculously strong posh accent he could muster. “May I have this dance?”

You laughed, squeezing Ominis’ hand, letting go and going along with the brunette’s theatrics. You bowed dramatically in his direction, placing your hand delicately in his and adopted the same vernacular that he used.

“Of course, m’lord. It would be an honor.” *** With the Founders Ball announced, you realize two things. Firstly, you have no idea how to ballroom dance, and secondly, you didn't know how you could go to the ball with both of your crushes at once. *** Title is from "Rise to Me" by the Decemberists

Word Count: 8k

AN: I’m moving all of my fics over from Ao3 to make them more accessible! These are my fics.

Have this repost from Ao3 while I finish writing the smut I'm working on :) This one is a personal favorite of mine.

“The Founders Ball,” said Professor Weasley, “Is a grand occasion meant to unite the four houses of Hogwarts under our vivacious founders.” 

The Professor paced up and down the large room, glancing every so often to each of the different students lining the walls. Bleachers had been placed around for everyone to sit, each group separated by their house. The heads of the houses sat at the far left of each section, some more pleased about the news than others. In particular, Professor Sharpe looked like he would rather drink a drought of living death than continue to sit and listen to his colleagues speech. 

“On Christmas Eve, we will all gather in the great hall for a night of fun, frivolity, and lighthearted dancing. Each head of house will teach you the basic steps of dances like the waltz, the tango, and other forms of ragtime.” Weasley gestured for each of the heads to stand and make their way to the center of the room. “I expect you all to act like proper young lads and ladies in the name of Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Salazar Slytherin, and Rowena Ravenclaw. Now, please split off into pairs of two and await further instructions from your designated Professor.” 

Each eager student from the four houses stood rapidly from their seats, making their way down and stepping around those who were more hesitant to participate. You were one of the few who remained seated, leaning back on your elbows and resting on the bench behind you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go to the ball, the idea of it seemed lovely in all honesty. Who would turn down an opportunity to dress up and get absolutely sloshed with your friends? Of course someone would spike the punch— your money was on Garreth. The problem was that you had only ever heard of two people going together as a couple, and you couldn’t necessarily ask both of your crushes to go with you. You’ve had feelings for the both of them since your untimely admittance to Hogwarts, and as much as you knew that it would be easier to just pick one of them and stick with your decision, you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. You cared for them both in vastly different ways, and you needed them both by your side. You thought about what it would be like to go to the ball with them both, see them both dressed up to the nines and feel their hands on your hips as they led you through dance after dance. You already felt hot at the image of them in their pressed three piece suits— their sleeves rolled up to their elbows and their ties undone when they began to sweat from your copious amount of dancing and fun. You could almost taste their lips, leaning down and kissing you breathless, their teeth nipping at your bottom lip and their tongues sliding deliciously against yours after the festivities are over. Rosy pink hues made their way across your cheeks at the thought, and you coughed lightly to clear your now very parched throat before leaning back further in your seat, fighting against the embarrassed expression trying to tweak your lips into a frown. The two boys flanking each side of you were in similar spots; Ominis leaning with his chin in his hands and the bend of his arms atop his knees, a tired expression decorating his face, and Sebastian with his leg crossed over his thigh and his hands resting in his lap, a wayward smirk on his lips and a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. 

The more elated of the two leaned closer to you, stretching his neck slightly towards your ear and murmured, “Five galleons Sharpe trips over his cane.” 

You snorted to yourself, turning your head towards him and smirking. “You’re on, Sallow.” 

The brunette leaned over towards the other boy now, repeating the bet, and asked his opinion of the odds. “Ominis, are you in?” 

The blond sighed heavily, rolling his eyes at the whole rigmarole around him and drawled out of the corner of his mouth, “Ten galleons that he calls the whole thing off and tells us to teach ourselves.” 

Sebastian barked a laugh, catching the attention of the few students still milling around the trio, and stretched out his hand towards his companion. “I’ll take those odds.” 

Ominis simpered in his direction, grabbing the boy's hand before taking yours and doing the same. The brunette took the other and the three of you shook on it. 

“There’s no way he would just abandon his house; he’s too intimidated by Weasley.” 

“We’ll see.”

The three of you then turned towards the commotion on the floor, watching with enraptured intrigue as Professor Sharpe was surrounded by a mob of excitable teenage girls and a few of the more flamboyant boys. You could see the crease of his brow from your vantage point and pointed it out to your friends. Sharpe stood stoic in the center of the chaos, his cane resting in front of him with both of his hands crossed at the top, a thoroughly annoyed look adorning his features as the squacks of students got louder in his ears. He loudly tapped the end of his cane on the ground, silencing the masses and drawing the attention of the more meek of the bunch, and regarded them all with contempt. 

“I will be returning to my chambers. If you wish to learn about those infernal dances you may ask the other house heads for assistance, or have a friend teach you. I wash my hands of it. You are dismissed.” 

Groaning, the Slytherin’s surrounding the pragmatic Professor dragged their feet towards where the other students were already being instructed, a few sticking around long enough to grumble some choice words at his slowly retreating form. 

Sebastian sat with an expression similar to eating a lemon, digging into his cloak pocket and muttering to himself while pulling out his coins for the blond. You caught some of his grumbles, things like “stupid git,” and “blasted Gaunt sixth sense,” flying from his tongue. You did the same, laughing to yourself and shaking your head at the childishness of your brunette friend. Ominis pocketed the money, smirking to himself in a feat of barely concealed smugness. 

“Pleasure doing business with you both.” 

With a huff, the freckled boy stood from his slouched position, desperately trying to hide the fact that the confidence and cocky energy of his roommate made him want to scramble across their seats and snog him silly, and jumped down to the next rung of bleachers, spinning on his heel and facing his two friends. His mood seemed to do a complete one eighty, mischief swimming in his chocolate eyes yet again and a plan hiding just behind his teeth.

“So what are we to do now? I know I don’t know any of the dances, do either of you?” 

You scoffed, your chin pointed towards the ceiling and your limbs stretched in front of you in a lax position. You gestured lazily towards your ensemble, a slightly wrinkled white button down, paired with your house tie and a set of trousers, as well as the general lack of interest in your body language. “Do you really think I’d be trained in ballroom dancing?” 

Sebastian made a noise in his throat that seemed to say “fair enough,” before turning to their quiet counterpart. Ominis could feel the both of your eyes on him and he fought against the blush slowly creeping up the back of his neck. He huffed with indignation, resting his chin on his hand in a show of laissez faire attitude. 

“I unfortunately do. It was a requirement of my schooling before I came here. All the Gaunt children had to take dance lessons for the plethora of galas we were invited to, especially me. Couldn’t have the blind boy looking blind and embarrassing the family.” Your eyes burned through the back of his head while Sebastian’s burned through the front, meeting in the center of his brain and sparking together like a show of fireworks. The boy could feel his friend's excitement at the prospect of him possibly teaching them shed from their auras in waves of glee. He sighed, “I suppose I could teach you both, but you have to do everything I say exactly. No funny business, got it?” 

You quickly sat up, meeting the eyes of the brunette standing opposite of the pair of you before sliding them over to your other friend. Raising two fingers to your forehead, you mock saluted the blond to your left, watching Sebastian do the same out of the corner of your eyes. 

“Sir, yes sir.” 

Ominis slid his hand over the front of his face, raising the other to do the same and grumbled into his hands. 

Something in him told him that he would come to regret this decision. 

***

The three of you slid through the doors of the Room of Requirement, leaning out briefly to check for any signs of life in the desolate hallway, before shutting it quietly behind you. You all shucked your bags to the ground, you and Sebastian dropping your cloaks over the pile of supplies while Ominis gently hung his on the coat rack by the door. The school assembly had been after dinner, so by the time your motley crew made it to your secret hideaway the sky was already glittering with constellations and curfew was right around the corner. You made your way to the center of the room where a large ornate rug decorated the floor and plopped yourself down in the center; your gaze drifting upwards towards the large skylight at the center of the domed roof. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, each star shone brilliantly against the stark blackness of space. You traced your finger along one particular cluster of stars that appeared every winter night, The Pleiades. Each brilliant light aligned with a birthmark on your blond companion's cheek, sprinkling across his face like a captivating piece of sheet music— it was your favorite. You could almost trace the marks, matching them to quarter notes and triplets like a beautiful bluesy shuffle. You sighed to yourself, resting your hand across your stomach as the other went behind your head as a makeshift pillow. 

“The stars are beautiful tonight.” You fancied, your eyes never leaving the glass dome above. 

A cynical voice came from the couch a few feet away, sarcasm lacing his tone. “Oh yes, indubitably.” 

You turn your head slightly towards Ominis and cringed slightly, forgetting about his lack of sight. “...Sorry.” 

Sebastian jumped into the middle of the rug, haphazardly placing his feet at either side of your hips and facing towards the blond. You quickly dart your hands outward and grasp on to his ankles, holding him still and hopefully preventing him from losing his balance and toppling over on top of you. A blush rouged the tips of your nose and ears as your pupils flicked over his body above, eyes widening slightly at his closeness. He looked lovely from your angle on the ground— maybe him falling wouldn’t be such a travesty. 

Shaking the unseemly thoughts from your mind, you flick your eyes once more upwards towards his face, only to see that he was already gazing at you, similar thoughts of how enticing you looked underneath him swimming behind his eyes. The brunette smirked down at you, winking and twiddling his fingers in a humorous wave. 

Cheeky bastard. 

You averted your eyes, focusing back on the other boy sitting on the couch to your left. Sebastian chuckled at your reaction, before also turning towards Ominis again and crossing his arms, speaking with authority. 

“Alright, how are we going to do this?” 

Ominis sighed again— his default setting— before lightly slapping his knees and standing up. He began to unbutton the cuffs of his starched shirt, rolling up the sleeves to his elbows and sticking one of his hands in his pocket while pulling out his wand with the other. His wand glowed a faint red with the location charm pulses as he surveyed the room for the optimal dancing space. You glanced around the room yourself, wincing minutely at the mess strewn around every surface and some parts of the floor. There really was no good spot currently, leaving you few options for where you could practice. Ominis seemed to come to the same conclusion, his brows furrowing in thought and pondering where you all could go. They could always go to the Undercroft, he supposed, but with the winter freeze just outside he was sure that the stone walls and floor would be terribly cold, and there wasn’t a fireplace in the large space. 

A lightbulb flickered on in your mind, an idea forming along with the delighted sound leaving your throat. Both boys turned to you in intrigue, eyebrows raised in surprise at your small shout and taking in the grin stretching across your face. 

“There’s some flat ground in Atlas’ vivarium, we could use that!” 

Sebastian blinked at you, his face twisting into an incredulous smile. “Your thunderbird, Atlas?” 

You nodded ecstatically, grabbing both boys by the hand and pulling them in the direction of your vivariums. Ominis stuttered loudly in protest, digging his heels into the hardwood floor and pulling at your arm. The idea of seeing, or in his case sensing, a thunderbird was one thing, but meeting one? That was a whole other thing entirely. He could already hear the loud cracks of thunder in the distance, causing the nervous frown on his face to deepen. Laughing at the blond’s hesitation, you dragged them through the different areas of the large room, smells from your potion station filled your nose and the gentle ticks of your assorted magical instruments were like music to your ears. Sebastian went along for the ride, allowing you to pull him along and his steps animated at the prospect of seeing the gorgeous bird in action. Honestly, he’d let you drag him anywhere if you never let go of his hand. Streaks of lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the lush fields of flowers just beyond the intricately carved archway of the enclosure and cast a glow across your face, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips. The freckled boy froze, eyes softening as they flitted around your visage in enraptured awe. Your smile was his favorite thing about you— a radiant bonfire under a softened night sky.  Every time you looked at him with that sweet, sanguine smile, it was like his heart was suddenly being warmed by a homey hearth— like everything wrong in his life would right itself with just a simple grin. He quickly looked away from your profile, color covering his cheeks as he reached his hand behind his head, rubbing at his neck in embarrassment. 

The smell of the storm brewing across the field circled around you like a pleasant hug, relaxing all the tightness in your body and giving way to the feeling of bliss. You loved the smell, and the sound, of storms; that was why this was your favorite vivarium to escape to. It was just Atlas behind the door, so you kept him company whenever you could, having not found him a mate yet in your “travels,” or as one would normally call it, your pillaging of poacher camps. Thunderbirds were incredibly rare in these parts, so the fact that you had found him locked away meant that he had traveled a great distance. His wing had been clipped slightly, the feathers bunched up together around a nasty scar stretching from his coracoid to his metacarpus, and you had felt a red hot anger seep through your veins like an infection at the pain emitting from the poor, beautiful bird. That was the most ruthless you had ever been with a group of the pillaging bastards, and you didn’t regret it in the slightest. You and Atlas had grown exponentially closer since that day, and you loved him the most out of any of your beasts— not that you’d tell any of them that. 

Ominis leaned against the wall next to the vivarium entrance, panting slightly in exertion, and sent a withered glare in what he assumed was your direction. Giggling at his miffed expression, you squeezed his hand and walked into the dimension before you. The blond’s scathing look pittered away to an enamored, but small, smile; his eyes softening to two gentle bubbling blue brooks instead of the angered sea during a storm they once were. He loved your laugh, it was truly his favorite sound. You had the poor boy wrapped around your finger with that simple, joyful noise. 

The pseudo-sun of the enclosure warmed the bones of the three students, shaking the freezing cold of the winter from their shoulders and wrapping them in a warm blanket. You led them to the grassy knoll at the top of the hill, a skip in your step at the sudden happiness that flooded your system at the feeling of the beautiful nature around you and the warmth of your companions hands in yours. Atlas flew high above your heads, swirling his body around in circles like he was a ring around the sun itself, and released a great caw into the air in joy at seeing his favorite human. You waved at the effervescent creature, watching him as he flew farther into the never ending sky, disappearing out of sight and taking the storm clouds above with him. You would bring both of the boys back one day to properly meet him, but today was about dance lessons. 

You finally stopped at the very top of the hill, reluctantly releasing both Slytherin’s from your grasp and turning to face the trained dancer of the two. You bit your lip around the smile starting to form, clasping your hands in front of you in an absolute tizzy of anxious, tumultuous happiness. Ominis turned to face the both of his friends, his hands tucking themselves away in his pockets once again as he pondered their next move. 

“Alright, this will work for now. Who would like to go first?” 

Sebastian and you stood entranced by the boy before you. The sun shone off of his hair in brilliant locks of golden silk, glittering in the soft summer breeze that floated around the vivarium space. Color still danced on his cheeks, giving him a lovely youthful glow that stood out against his normally porcelain skin tone and highlighted the star-like dots decorating his face. The luminous sun cascaded down on his form, catching his opalescent eyes just right and making them look like beautiful pools of dew. He looked strong with his rolled up sleeves; not muscular, but confident, strapping, sturdy, like he was in his absolute element. In that moment, Ominis Gaunt was the picture of elegance and grace, something extraordinarily serendipitous. You couldn’t help but look at him— take him in in all of his glorious verisimilitude. 

The blond cleared his throat, slight agitation lacing his tone. “I can feel you both staring at me. Are you going to putter about like muppets and waste valuable time, or are you going to learn these dances? As you both know, I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.” 

The both of you were shocked out of your revelry at his voice, color flooding both of your cheeks at your obvious admiration. Sebastian shook off the embarrassment first, leaning towards you and whispering in your ear before confidently stepping towards the lithe boy. 

“I do quite like it when he’s rude.” 

You stifle your laughter behind your hand, watching the both of your boys bow to each other and get into the proper position. Ominis raised his hands into the air, arms draped elegantly like he was about to take flight, and directed Sebastian to do the same. 

“Now, put one hand on my shoulder and place the other in mine.” 

The brunette furrowed his brows. “What if I wanted to lead?” 

“I just assumed with your proclivity to strong, powerful friends, you’d lean more towards submitting rather than domineering.” The blond quipped with a smirk. 

Sebastian sputtered with bashfulness, a dark rouge coloring him from the tips of his ears to the ends of his collarbones. Ominis could feel the heat radiating off of his dance partner like a fireplace in winter. He chuckled at his obvious flustered state— the boy could surely dish it out, but he couldn’t take it in return. 

“Alright, I will teach you how to lead. Place your hand on my waist.” 

Gathering his nerve once again, Sebastian simpered in return, “My my, Ominis. How very crass of you; if you wanted my hands on you all you had to do was ask.” 

“Shut up, Sallow, and do as I say.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

You watched the brunette do as he was told, placing his hand on the small of the blond’s waist and grasping his hand in his before pulling him closer until they were chest to chest. Ominis cleared his throat bashfully, ignoring the warmth flooding his body from the furnace of a man against him, and began directing him through the movements of a basic waltz. Birds tittered from the trees just beyond the hill, filling the air with a natural melody. You smiled as you watched them both, fumbling like a mother doe teaching their newborn fawn how to walk for the first time. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Sebastian knew what he was doing and was just acting like he didn’t. One moment he would perform a perfect spin just for him to step on Ominis’ foot as hard as possible the next. You couldn’t blame him, in all honesty— you were just as eager to be that close to the blond you both harbored feelings for. 

The Gaunt boy couldn’t help but get distracted at the feeling of being in Sebastian’s arms— his breath brushing against his lips and cheeks, his chest pressed deliciously against his, their hearts beating in tandem as they moved from step to step. There was something about his brunette companion that sent his mind into a tizzy, like a spare lacewing fly crawled through his ear and was buzzing around in his skull, smacking against his limbic system and setting his veins aflame with affection. He kept the pair of them in a small four step square, not quite used to the distance around them with his wand tucked securely in his pocket. Sebastian was oddly adept at the waltz, only making small mistakes here and there. If Ominis didn’t know better, he would say that the brunette took him up on his offer just because he wanted to be closer to him. What a preposterous thought, he mused to himself. There was no way his friend returned his feelings. 

All thoughts were unanimously wiped from his mind at that moment when his dance partner decided that it was the perfect time to dip him. 

Ominis felt sickeningly weightless, his knee bent to keep his stability while the other was thrown haphazardly into the air. He could feel Sebastian’s knee at his outer bicep, his face even closer than before. Hot, minty breath fanned across the apples of his cheeks and blew against his long eyelashes, causing his unseeing eyes to flutter around with anxious, flustered agony. The hand at his waist somehow felt even hotter than before, like it was the sun itself and he was burning. The brunette chuckled, leaning impossibly closer and brushed his lips against the conch of the blond’s ear.

“Did I sweep you off your feet, Professor?” 

Ominis turned a color similar to a cherry tomato, his words stuttering out of his throat like a broken gramophone. “R-right. You did very well, Sebastian.” He cleared his throat, willing his breathing and heartbeat to get back under control. “Now, will you please release me?” 

Sebastian smiled against the blond’s ear, sending a shiver up the other boy’s spine, before teasingly whispering once more. “As you wish.” 

The brunette then let go, dropping his companion to the floor with a ceremonious thump.

You giggled from the sidelines at their antics, highly amused by their obvious affection for each other but also lack of self awareness to express it, nay, realize it. You began to feel anxious, very much aware of the fact that both of the people you were heavily crushing on had dancing experience and talent while you had none. You feared making a fool of yourself in front of them. There was something different about the setting of a ball that made your heart hurt and your head spin at the thought of embarrassing yourself— vastly different than the multiple times they had seen and heard you mess up spells in the Undercroft. The first time you had tried bombarda, you had singed off your eyebrows much like they both did when first casting confringo. Sebastian didn’t let you live it down for weeks, even after the hair had entirely grown back and you could stop drawing them in with pencil. You really didn’t want to give them more ammunition against you, and you also wanted the night to be special. 

Ominis stood up from the earthy ground, brushing the orange clay dust off of his shoulders and back while turning a heated glare to his giggling friends. 

“Yes, very funny, Sebastian. Thank you for that.” 

Sebastian seceded, walking over and helping the blond brush the rest of the dust and small pebbles from his body and hair. He grasped him by the shoulders, slightly shaking him once before releasing and moving to stand next to you once again.

“Well, you did ask me to let you go.” 

With a scoff, Ominis turns to face you and raises his hand in your direction, a small amused smile dancing on his lips— his eyes soft like the clouds in the sky, a brilliant white against baby's breath blue. Your breathing stutters in your chest. 

“Alright, it's your turn.” As if sensing your nervousness, he moves to reassure you, his eyebrows creasing in concern. “I promise I won’t drop you like that buffoon did.” 

You were stuck in place, your feet refusing to move from the timidness rocking through your body. Sebastian turned to look at you, an eyebrow raised in questioning until he saw the pretty rose hue crossing over the bridge of your nose and speckling across your cheeks. You were entirely enamored by the blond boy in front of you. He laughed, placing a hand between your shoulder blades and shoving you closer to the outstretched hand of his friend. 

Gingerly, you grasp Ominis’ hand in yours and let him lead you towards the middle of the patch of land. He frets for a moment, moving your hands to the correct positions and making sure you’re comfortable with the proper stance before pausing and preparing to go through the motions again. The sweet breeze blew through the pasture again, catching on your hair and clothes and filling the blind boy’s nose with the most lovely scent he had grown attached to since you’d joined their little motley crew— bergamot, vanilla, and something unidentifiable but so uniquely you. He was spellbound for a moment, eyes locked on yours and breath catching his throat. Much like with Sebastian, the feeling of you in his arms was something he never wanted to give up. While the brunette felt like a burning pyre on a chilly winter night: exciting, nostalgic, and warm to the point of burning, you were a candle on his bedside with a nice cup of tea and a good book: comforting, tranquil, and homey. He loved how the both of you felt against him, how you both made him feel in his very soul. How he lived without the both of you before coming to Hogwarts, he had absolutely no idea. 

You stiffened slightly under Ominis’ heavy stare, his milky irises swirling with something unidentifiable but so warm all the same. You felt trapped where you were, unable to move— not wanting to move from his heated gaze, but feeling quite bashful with him looking at you like that. Something had just happened in that brilliant mind of his, and who were you to not make a joke out of a suddenly serious moment?

Your smug voice broke him out of his stupor, a laugh dancing dangerously at the precipice of your lips. “Please stop staring at me, you’re making me nervous.” 

He huffed, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Need I remind you that I’m blind, my dear?” 

The term of endearment stopped you in your tracks, all feelings of humor completely gone and replaced with scatterbrained lightheadedness. Even Ominis seemed shocked at the words that came from his mouth, his chin shyly dipping down towards his chest and color returning to the tips of his ears and nose. My, what a lovely color that was. If it was any other time you’d poke fun at the blond boy, push him further into embarrassment just to see more of that beautiful hue cross over his features, but, the intimacy of your stance was not lost to you. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest, singing along to his wonderful tune— my-dear, my-dear, my-dear. Never had two words struck so deeply before. 

You cleared your throat, stopping him from speaking the clear apology that was dancing on his tongue. “Well, lead the way, my dear.” 

A loud, boisterous voice broke the both of you out of your haze, slightly grating in your ears. “Oh come on, you two! Who are you, Mr and Mrs. Gaunt? Stand a little closer!” Sebastian jeered from the sidelines, a wayward smile stretching across his cheeks. 

You threw your head back with laughter, missing the way Ominis’ gaze melted at the sound, looking at you like you put all of the stars in the sky, and kicked at the brunette just out of reach, sending rusted orange dust in his direction and staining his pristine white shirt. He shouted indignantly, his own laughter bubbling just under the surface as he tossed a small rock in your direction, watching it bounce harmlessly against your calf. Relenting, you stepped closer to the blond, just barely pressing your chest to his, hoping he couldn’t feel how fast your heart was beating at that very moment. Little did you know, he was hoping the very same thing.

Still smiling softly, Ominis began to teach you the basics like he did with Sebastian. He twirled you around in a circle, listening to your startled giggles and hushed heavy breathing like it was his favorite concerto. Each step forward from him sent one back from you, his left foot pushing against your right as you waltzed in a square. You fought to keep your eyes on your shoes, making sure that you weren’t stepping on his toes while also listening to his direction. 

Ominis tisked lightly, his tongue tapping against the roof of his mouth thrice like a mother scolding a child. “Keep your eyes on me, not on your feet. You won’t hurt me, I promise.” 

You gulped, looking back up and meeting his unseeing gaze. He pulled you closer to him, now pressing your body fully against his, before sliding one of his legs between yours and moving his hand to rest open across the small of your back.

“I’m going to dip you now. Hold on to my shoulders, if you would, please.” 

You did as you were told, letting him spin you slightly to the side and dip you towards the ground. The quick movement sent a rush to your head, everything around you blinking out and only your blond boy’s face shining in the darkness. All you could stare into were his eyes, now shielded from the harsh light above but still glowing with just as much starlight. It looked like whole constellations were trapped there. You could see Draco wrap around his pupils, Cassiopeia stream across his cornea, Orion’s Belt glitter in his irises, and finally Polaris, the bright north star, was there to guide you home. There was a French word for those eyes— astre: something not from this world, something celestial, something born of stars. You couldn’t breathe at how close his face was, one small move and you could press your lips against his and finally claim him as your own. For a moment, it looked like Ominis wanted just the same as you, his warm breath fanning across your lips as he moved just slightly closer before reconsidering and helping you back up to your feet. 

Sebastian cleared his throat to your left, leaning against the post that Atlas enjoyed resting on. He had a grin on his face, his eyes looking like pools of melted amber under the afternoon sun. He couldn’t remember the last time his heart felt as full as it did watching the both of you dance together. He didn’t feel any jealousy, any anger at the fact you both obviously had feelings for the other. He was just happy to be with you both— if both his best friends fell in love he’d consider it a blessing. Besides, he could take the absolute piss out of you both if you started dating, and how could he possibly turn down a rousing bit of debauchery? 

“Enjoying yourselves, are we?” He simpered. 

Sebastian pushed away from the wooden column, making his way towards the pair of you, before reaching out his hand in your direction and speaking with the most ridiculously strong posh accent he could muster. “May I have this dance?” 

You laughed, squeezing Ominis’ hand, letting go and going along with the brunette’s theatrics. You bowed dramatically in his direction, placing your hand delicately in his and adopted the same vernacular that he used.

“Of course, m’lord. It would be an honor.” 

With that, Sebastian squeezed your hand and you were off. He swung you around like a madman, your feet grazing the ground and sending clouds of dust around the large bit of land. Your laughter rang out like church bells, sweeping into the summer air and being blown away like the fluff on a dandelion. You opened your eyes to watch the beautiful brunette in your arms, seeing his large toothy grin just inches from yours and counting the freckles that littered his closed eyelids. If Ominis was the stars, Sebastian was the earth— strong, resolute, constant, yet always surprising you with new and titillating things. You could see the life-giving dirt in the color of his hair, see maps criss-crossing his face in his freckles, each one standing for a different landmark, mountain, coast, anything that could be jotted down by a cartographer. You wanted to follow along those freckles and travel wherever they led until there was nothing more there— no more sights to see. In his veins you saw the rings of a tree, each line and circle telling story after story of their life, their adventures on this planet you call home. He opened his eyes and looked down at you and oh. You could see whole worlds in those eyes. It was like time froze inside of them, like each tiny earth-like dot in his irises were still and asleep until the day came where he was dead and gone. Little flecks of sage sprinkled around his pupils like mounds of four leaf-clovers at the edge of a babbling brook. You couldn’t help but stare. 

In your distraction, you didn’t notice the wing beats of Atlas returning to your little corner. Lightning streaked across the sky, casting a soft purple and blue glow on the fields of flowers swaying in the wind around you. Ominis lifted his head from where it rested in his hand, a love-struck smile on his face at the sound of not only your joy, but also Sebastian’s, and sniffed at the air. The smell of petrichor was heavy with the feeling of a storm brewing once again. He turned his eyes to the sky, calling out to his two friends across the square from him.

“Hey guys—” 

Still in your little world, you didn’t hear the blond boy to your right. Catching your gaze, Sebastian began to lean closer towards you. For a moment you thought he was moving in for a kiss, but his lips brushed against the skin of your cheek and made its way to your ear. He held you closer to his body as he whispered to you, his lips tantalizingly close to your neck.

“I know how you feel about him.” 

Your breath stilled in your throat, nervous confusion filling your voice. “Who?” 

He breathed a laugh, the soft brush of his sigh raising the hairs on your skin to attention. “Ominis, of course. I know how you feel about him. I think you should go for it, it’s obvious he feels the same.” 

You protested weakly, Ominis’ voice calling out at the same time. 

“Sebastian, I—”

“Guys, I think it’s going to rain—”

Thunder loudly rumbled above, and a torrential downpour of water fell from the sky. 

You screamed in alarm, your clothes suddenly becoming drenched and sticking to your skin. You looked up towards the sky, watching the large droplets of rain fall around you and tap against your face with little, lovely kisses. The boys around you reacted similarly, Ominis quickly standing from the ground and reaching for his wand, shivering lightly around the sudden cold, while Sebastian took a step back from you in shock, his hair plastering itself to his face and sending drops of water into his eyelashes and down his cheeks. A laugh startled them, drawing their attention back to their friend. You stood in the center of the square, arms raised at your sides, elbows bent with hands stretched out to collect the raindrops. You were laughing with delight, joy bursting from your heart at the sudden storm brewing around you. You looked truly at peace in that moment, surrounded by your friends in a wonderful little rainstorm. 

The two Slytherin’s took in the sight before them, the sound of your elated giggles and the sheer happiness that radiated from your being, and both smiled, beginning to laugh themselves. 

Hearing their own chuckles, you quickly shuffled over to your friends and grabbed their hands, pulling them into the center with you once again. The three of you looked up at the sky, feeling the droplets of water splatter against your faces and refreshing your skin with energy. You began to spin the three of you in a circle, all of your hands connected like a ring of daisies tied together into a crown. Laughter filled the vivarium, three voices ringing out together in blissful mirth. You all danced together in the rain, pompously bowing and curtsying to each other in humor before clasping hands and galloping along in a lighthearted two step. Your heart filled with merriment at the sound of your boys having fun. You so rarely got to act like kids these days, so many pressures pressing down on your shoulders putting a damper on basically everything you enjoyed. At that very second, you all were simply students enjoying their time in the rain. No sick sisters, no ancient magic, no abusive families, just a little bit of rain and a little bit more fun. 

In that moment, you were a little bit in love with the both of them.

You break apart from your dance partner, Ominis, you deducted from the sound of his light giggles, and looked back up towards the falling rain, running your hands through your hair and smoothing it away from your face. You felt a surge of courage run through your body, completely content in the storm and filled with a youthful delight. Tilting your chin back down towards your boys, your lovely, lovely boys, you took both of their hands into yours once again and spoke the words you’d been holding in for so long. 

“I think I love you. The both of you.” 

The two boys stilled at your words, heads whipping in your direction with incredulous expressions decorating their faces. You all stood in silence for a moment, the both of them processing your words while you worried at your lip with your teeth. Ominis was the first to speak, a loud shout leaving his throat in a very unlike-him fashion.

“WHAT?”

Sebastian nodded his head, coming back to his body after it felt like his whole being was catapulted into space. “Yeah, what?!” 

You laughed at their disbelieving countenances, stepping closer and raising their hands to your chest, your thumb rubbing across their knuckles gently and your eyes clouded with amorous love. 

“I said, I love the both of you. I have for some time, but I couldn’t hold it in any longer. After today, I knew that I needed to say it before it was too late— before I couldn’t anymore. You both have bewitched me, body and soul. You fill my mind at every moment of the day: at breakfast, in History of Magic, when I’m studying in the library, all the way until I fall asleep, and even then you’re in my dreams.” 

Your boys continued to stare at you, mouths opening and closing like a fish without water.

“I thought you liked him!” They both shouted in unison, the hands not connected to yours raising and pointing at the other boy. You laughed again, affection flooding your whole body.

“You both have been so kind to me, my absolute best friends since day one. I came to this school with no one besides Professor Fig, no one my age to talk to about how alone I felt— new to the world of an ancient magic that wished to swallow me whole. Ever since that first day in Defense Against the Dark Arts I have been completely, and totally enamored with the both of you. In this battlefield of a school, your presence is my Versailles. I would follow you both to the ends of the earth and then jump if you were there to catch my fall.” 

You closed your eyes, a heavy breath inhaling through your mouth and sighing out into the still air, the noise being swallowed by the pitter-patter of the steady rain. “Here I am, presenting you with my heart like the fool that I am, and asking you both if you feel the same. Nothing has to change if you don’t, I completely understand that this was very sudden—”

In a sudden burst of movement, Ominis cut off your grand speech with a kiss. It wasn’t good or coordinated in any sense, more teeth than lips, but it was yours . You quickly corrected the boy, slotting your lips against his and raising your arms to drape around his shoulders while his drifted to your waist. He kissed you like he had been waiting for this very moment since he was born— maybe he had been. Maybe you were the other half, or in this case the one third, of his soul that he had been searching for. You both separated, air rushing into your burning lungs from the near suffocating kiss. Taking the open chance, Sebastian took your face into his hands and turned you towards him, pressing his lips to yours after all these years of pining. His kiss was different than Ominis’, a bit more skilled, more controlled. He was gentle in his movements, cradling your face and stroking your cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs. You melted into it, raising your hands from where they had rested, raised at your sides after your initial shock, and ran them through his hair, deepening the kiss and pouring your love into every movement you made. 

Their kisses tasted like home— like a finally. 

You separated from the brunette, heaving breaths into your lungs yet again as you looked to your two loves. They both looked thoroughly flustered, the rain splashing against their ruby cheeks and rolling down towards their bruised, kissed lips. You smiled at the sight. 

Sebastian cleared his throat, wringing his hands in front of him with nerves. “I don’t think I can put it as eloquently as you did.” A chuckle left his tight throat. “I was so confused by how I felt at first. I had been in love with Ominis since second year when he first asked to ‘see’ what I looked like, but then you came in our fifth year and suddenly everything was one big jumble. How could I love the both of you? How could that work? I felt—”

“So selfish!” Ominis finished for him, his eyebrows furrowing at how stupid he had been. “I felt so bloody selfish for wanting the both of you to be mine. It’s no secret that my family is not a caring one. I hadn’t felt true, unencumbered love until I met the both of you. I have wanted you both more than I’ve wanted anything else, and it felt dangerous— forbidden, absolutely, abhorrently dotty.” 

Sebastian took the blond’s hand, pulling him closer until he could wrap his arm around his waist. They both leaned closer to each other, breaths mingling in the space between them, and finally pressed their lips together after over half a century of waiting. 

Ominis separated from the brunette after a long, much needed moment, pressing a light kiss to the tip of his nose in fondness before speaking once again, a laugh dangling on each of his words. 

“How foolish the three of us have been.” 

The relief was palpable around the three of you, laughter filling the air once more as you all took in everything that had just occurred. You took both of their hands in yours once again, pulling them out of the now very muddy square and towards the soft grass of the hill nearby. Your trio sat down, the sweet smell of the earth during a rainstorm permeating your senses and washing you with comfort as you leaned back and watched the storm clouds roll across the sky above. The boys did the same, one on either side of you, their hands still clasped in yours. You breathed a soft sigh, truly content for the first time in a very long time. 

“Will you both go to the Founders Ball with me?” 

Sebastian laughed to your left, his chest rumbling and sending vibrations down your arm. “I’d have to think about it. I was planning on asking Professor Garlick.” 

You smacked him on the chest, launching more laughter from his throat as he rolled away from your sudden onslaught of violence before grabbing your hand again and encircling your fingers. 

“Kidding, of course. Yes, I will go with you.” 

On your right, Ominis raised your conjoined hands to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to your wrist before letting your bundle of limbs drop to his chest, eyes closed in pure unfiltered bliss. 

“I thought that was already the plan, to be honest. There was absolutely no way I was going with anyone else, that’s for sure.” 

You sighed again, closing your eyes and letting the sweet infinity of their love surround you. 

“Good, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

***

like what you read? here's more!

[bi-animated]

#thepatakisweek Day 4, posted on Day 5 after I said I didn’t want to fall behind ☠️

I knew I needed to be on point for this one because it’s ARNOLD’S ROOM!!

My idea for this one is bouncing off of the last prompt, where Arnold and Helga have been spending a lot of time together at their summer job, he finally invites her out on what feels like a date. Nervous, she consults Phoebe on how she should dress and they do some internet shopping. When the clothes come in, they don’t look the same on her as they do on the model but it’s too late to get another outfit so she commits. Once again, she’s attempting to dress like someone else to impress Arnold, who is stunned when he first sees her. People are paying a lot of attention to Helga, which she isn’t used to and is making her more uncomfortable in the outfit. Arnold takes notice and asks her if she’d rather leave, so they head to his house, little do they know that their voyeurs are also in hot pursuit and with a plan - Sid is going to bluetooth connect to Arnold’s devices and scare them with loud music when they’re about to kiss… and it will be live on the internet for the whole neighborhood to see.

Yes, that’s Abner! I imagine he’ll grow into a hefty fella after a few years living at the boarding house. Really enjoyed using the lighting filters on Procreate, I’d like to think that Arnold is cool enough to have the college dorm special LED colored lights and set them to pink because it’s Helga’s favorite color ���� I also heard that Helga still wears her pink bow under her beanie, which is another aspect of this picture - Helga trying to grow up too fast but secretly not being ready, she wears a lot of disguises and I feel like it’s a relatable situation for both teen girls and even adult women.

Anyway, it’s an open ending because Arnold’s wires don’t necessarily connect to his computer, so what do you all think?

Should Sid be successful and sabotage their romance?

Or should the whole pan be foiled because Arnold isn’t even using that device?

Write me in the comments ;)

@opthepatakis

[aracelighda]

Shortaki Week Day/Día 7: Hey Pink!

Well here's something simple for this day, I chose the Pink theme Arnold and Helga made a pink outfit match, they saw that it was trending for couples in a magazine and they decided to match it, I liked drawing Helga's pink clothes more, mainly I also made reference to the day they met as children when Arnold told her that her bow was cute because it was pink like her clothes

🏈🎀💖💟😊

[daintybrute]

My first ship: A random Hey Arnold post.

Hey Arnold! was my favorite show when I was in elementry school, and it's honestly still an amazing show. I was somewhat obsessed, actually. As a kid, hanging out in my room or the backyard, I would think about them. There was no streaming or DVR at the time, so that's all I could do about it was think. It was my first expereince of hopelessly wishing for two fictional characters to be together, later to find out there was a term for that feeling: Shipping.

The creator of Hey Arnold, Craig Bartlett, outright said that Arnold and Helga are meant for each other and that the two getting married and having kids is canon and I seriously love that.

A few years ago, I wrote a Highschool AU fic about Helga, I re-read it and was like "Whoa… I wrote that?" lol. It was seriously so fun to edit to post, and gave me a nice jolt of that childhood nostalgia. I had all but forgotten my love for Helga's love for Arnold.

Obviously I've progressed into other fandoms, ships and hyperfixations, but Arnold and Helga will always have a very special place in my heart. I still think about them pretty often and will throw on an episode or two occasionally because I still love them so much.

The sketch above is how I imagine thier highschool wardrobes looking in my fic. Arnold has pretty much the same vibe, while Helga grows into a darker/moody look.

"The pink bow that hung from her loose ponytail was the only trace of the girl Arnold used to know."

Truly, I'll never not adore this show 🎀🧢

Here is a link to the fic, if anyone is interested:

[bookishgirl21]

CHAPTER 1

10 years later

Runa sits at the dining table , well if you can still call it that. Cauldrons filled with potions, bubbling over the lips of the cauldrons, staining the table. All sorts of herbs and animal bones scattered across, blood of animals and creatures in jars for later uses. The witch, Helga stands by the stove, stirring a cauldron filled with hearts of swans and blood of does, her thin grey hair in a braid down her hobbled back. A love potion in the making for a lady madly in love with a duke who sees her as a friend.

“Don't just sit there child! Chop up the rose petals and soak them in the swan blood.” scolds Helga, her voice irritated. Runa gives a mock bow, her red hair falling in front of her face “Oh of course your royal witchyness, I shall get to chopping right away. Forgive me for just sitting and not doing anything.” the witch huffs, continuing her stirring. Runa takes the jar of rose petals and takes out ten big petals and begins chopping them into small pieces, dumping them into a bowl of swan blood. As the witch turns off the flame, she takes out a strainer and a bowl, using her magic to take the liquid inside and run it through the strainer. The hearts thumping onto the strainer and the blood into the bowl, she takes the bowl over to the table and places it in front of Runa “strain out the rose petals and place them in the bowl, while I get the bottle.” the witch turns and leaves the kitchen.

Runa strains out the petals, throwing them into the bowl, giving it a little stir as Helga walks back in, holding a potion bottle with the label saying “LOVE POTION”. Helga uncorks the bottle, placing a funnel in the opening, taking the blood mixture and throwing it into the bottle. She fills the bottle , putting the cork back in place, giving it a shake and the liquid inside turning a sparkling pink.

“There we go. All done, Runa takes the potion to the lady and collect the gold, remember -""Yes I know, twenty gold pieces. I do know the pricing after ten years” Helga huffs but gives Runa a soft smile. “I should turn you into a toad for interrupting me but, I do need you to do drops off for me” Runa grins “Another day of not being turned into a toad, why I must be lucky” she picks up the potion carefully placing it into her cross shoulder bag. The witch sits down and opens her recipe book “I do need you to pick up a few things for me at the market”

***

A few things turned out to be a whole lot of things. Runa reads off the list. She got some of the things, now looking for a dragon's scale. Where does one find that? She could ask someone but they'd ask questions, questions she couldn't answer. Runa looks around at the different stalls, none having what she needs, she sighs, realising she has to go to the black market. She starts her trek to the bad side of town, she hates it there. The smells, the people, just everything about the black market.

As she gets to the black market, she's glad she doesn't have to travel far. The first stall had dragons scale, she makes the purchase and makes her way out as quick as she can. She reaches the good side of town again, slowing her walk, stopping by a bakery to grab their famous sugar glazed donuts. As she reaches the middle of the town she sees the guards dragging a screaming child on the ground, a woman faintly crying behind her. “Have you people not learned yet!” says the Guard loud enough for all those close enough to hear and continues “No children are to be born without the blessing of the king! Do you see the mark of the blessed on this boy?! “ the Guard tugs the boy's hair, showing his clean brow. 

Mark of the blessed, Runa scoffs to herself. The king's way of population control, five years ago the town was heavily over populated, so the king decided firstly on an execution, he executed five hundred people, mostly thieves and non working men and women, and came out with a law all babies that are born must be presented to him, to decide if the baby lives or dies. He claims to be able to see their future, and those with a more valuable future to him live and get the  mark of the blessed on their forehead. A black crow. Those with no value to him die.

The guard holds the boy’s head back and cuts his throat. Dropping the body to bleed out, a soft murmur goes through the crowd as the Guard steps back, cleaning his dagger and placing it back in its sheath. The crowd continues with what they were doing before, the Guard leaves the body where it is and walks away. Runa cant stand the sight anymore and starts walking back to the cottage.

On her walk back Runa finds herself at the old battlefields, she always finds herself here when she wants some peace and quiet.  She sits on an old stump, looking out at the field, it was beautiful despite what has happened here. She never knew why she likes it here so much but has stopped asking herself that. The winds pick up, blowing her long braid in her face, she closes her eyes, tilting her face up, enjoying the sun on her light skin. She stays there for a while enjoying the sun before getting and continuing to the cottage to give the witch her items.

Runa enters the cottage, which is oddly quiet, she calls out to the witch but only silence  greats her. “Helga!” she shouts again. silence , Runa walks around the cottage looking for the witch, when she doesn't find her inside, she goes to the garden. When she walks out into the garden, she finds Helga not alone… she's sitting with the king himself and his personal Guard. 

[folkoreluvr]

My princely beast | chapter one

Summary: Loki and thanos have almost successfully taken over the planet and have dispensed of the earths mightiest hero’s. In the action however, Loki brings Tony’s daughter to his grand estate in the countryside, addled with guilt for his actions as he begins to break free from Thanos’ mind control.

Pairing: Loki x stark!oc

Warnings: darkish!loki, mind control, captive?, blood, violence, gore, smut

A/n: after re-reading ACOTAR and watching beauty and the beast this little scenario popped right into my head and after days of day dreaming I decided I had to write it.

I stare out of the fogged up window of my bedroom in this strange estate, I suppose I should be more relived I haven’t been thrown into some sort of dungeon or cell. Then again, my captor decided to throw my father to the cells and keep me so maybe I should be more worried. I have spent three days here and am yet to come across my captor, I’d have hope he doesn’t live here if not for the group of servants potting around the place, each with a hanging fear over their heads.

I turn around at the sound of a knocking at my door. Helga, a maid, comes in and places a plate of cookies on the desk in my new cell.

“You should eat something.” She tells me, not a suggestion but more of a command. I shake my head, pulling my soft hand away from the cool window, wiping the wet condensation on my night gown. I have been left such strange clothes, some clearly modern but most what I can only assume is Asgardian. I haven’t worn any of them, only kept onto a silk nightgown that drops to the floor in a soft pink hue and my black crew neck with the words “stark industries” printed on its front in bold white words. I see now that’s it’s probably all that’s left of my family, my legacy. The great Starks, reduced to nothing at the hands of a cruel god. “He hasn’t poisoned it.” Helga stars again with a roll of her eyes. “He’s not been here to poison it and I doubt he would bother himself with such trivial matters if you seem intent on starving yourself anyway.” I grab for the pale cream cookie with anxiousness, watching Helgas face as I eat. I try my best to keep an ounce of dignity, but I haven’t eaten in nearly three days.

“Why am I here?” I ask as I finish the cookie, desperate to grab another and scoff that one but I’ll wait until she goes. Helga surveys me as I sit on the bed, my body pulled as far into itself as possible, hands clenched into fists. Fear. Im completely petrified of why he kept me and what he plans to do to me.

“I do not know.” She tells me, a bow in her head showing her honesty. Maybe that’s worse, if his intentions aren’t clear to his servants then maybe I should try and leave, run as fast as I can and hope to find someone out here in the depths of the countryside. “You are free to leave.” Helga tells me, as if she has read to mind. “He has said that much.” I only stare at her in confusion. He must be a terrible captor if I am free to leave. Helga leaves me at that and the second the door clicks closed I grab for the plate and groan at the taste of sweet sugar.

Afterwards, I look down at myself and see the dirt clinging to my nightgown and the messy nature of my hair and decide to shower, after all it’s very unlikely anything could happen to me in there. I walk into the vast bathroom, it’s an odd mix of old time decor and the newest technology. I fiddle with the knobs until I have it running smoothly and hot and turn around to lock the door. I pull off the jumper and fold it on the shelf but the nighgown I accept is a lost cause. When the hot water begins to cascade down my throat I all but groan, savouring the feeling of warmth and comfort. The shower is fully stocked with an array of luxurious products. I grab at the soap and scrub my body red and raw, desperately trying to remove the dirt from me but it clings to me. I slide down the soaked wall of the shower and sit on the floor, bringing my knees to my chest and for the first time in three days, since I lost everything, I cry. The pattering of hard water on stone drowns out the sound of my choked out sobs, as I heave and heave, searching for breath. After a few minutes I stand back up on shaking legs and scrub at my brown locks. I pull myself away from the warmth of the water and wrap towel around myself.

I step out of the bathroom to find the sheets of my, his bed have been changed and the plate of crumbs removed. Tugging the cotton towel closer, I survey the large chest of drawers, the top is filled with underwear, a lot from my own drawers back home and some of it new. Thick cotton socks are shoved into the corner and corset like bras are lined up in a multitude of colours. I pull out one of these corsets and a pair of my own underwear and toss them on the bed. The next draw is stacked full of nightgowns - again a mix of mine and new ones. The third draw is full of soft cotton shirts and leggings, along with thick knitted jumpers. The fourth draw is the most interesting however, I pull out stacks of thick leather, noting a deep cut vest that laces at the front and black trousers, ones that would no doubt cling to me like second skin. I shove the clothes back in the drawer and wander over to the dark oak wardrobe. All the furniture looks old, worn but the appliances, such as the large tv, new. It was as if the house had been left here abandoned and my captor had claimed it, that was easily possible.

I run my hands along the soft fabrics as I chose a dress. I land on a more earthly dress in a faded green colour and toss it to the bed too. Lined up at the bottom of the wardrobe is an assortment of shoes, red bottomed stilettos, country boots, leather boots that matched the other leather apparel my captor had left for me and an array of slip on shoes. I chose black ones with a small heel and dress myself. The dress falls to my ankles, billowing lightly around me, it cuts diagonally at my shoulders, showing my collarbone. The back laces up and I wrestle with the fabric as I tug them tight, allowing the dress to cling to the curves of my body. I slip on the shoes and sneak at my door, worried I’ll find someone outside it.

I pull open the heavy wood and find an unbreathing corridor. I keep my hands clenched into fists as I walk slowly down the hallway, my head anxiously darting from left to right like the god will attack me from the shadows. I turn at the end of the hallway and find the stairs to the foyer. I scale down them anxiously, watching the door with heavy breaths. I don’t see anyone else around the house, no cooks or cleaners but the house is in perfect condition and there is no way Helga could do it all herself. Magic most likely, dark dangerous magic belonging to a darker and much more dangerous man. I reach the bottom of the stairs and contemplate going for the door and running but I have no clue where I am, no coat or food and no weapon to defend myself. That’s what I should do, find something to defend myself with. I wander the hallways in search of a kitchen, hoping to steal a cutting knife, better than nothing. I find the kitchen at last but nearly grown as I find Helga in there, preparing a large chicken with numerous spices, I see bubbling pots on the stove full of vegetables and a tray of bread rolls waiting to be cooked. It can’t all be for me. Dread settles over me as I realise he’s coming to the house, to my prison. Helga looks up at me and says nothing, going back to her cooking, the knives are on the other side of the kitchen and if she is distracted she probably won’t notice me grabbing one for the rack. Attempting to be nonchalant, I walk around the kitchen Island and towards my weapons but before I can wrap my sweating palm around a blade Helga interrupts me.

“He keeps his weapons in the armoury, it’s in the right wing, the doors down and to your right.” I don’t turn around, or move or make a noise. I can’t help but question why she would tell me such things, what motive she might have. “There’s a chest full of throwing knives and daggers, ones with sheaths.” She tells me, not looking up from the potato she is currently peeling. “You’ll cut yourself on that knife if you keep it at your chest, the smartest place to keep a knife.” Trusting Helga seems stupid but she seems to have lied about nothing else and there is nothing malicious in her tone. I retreat from the kitchen without a word and stalk down the corridors, I takes me nearly an hour to find the armoury in the maze of a house and true to her word it is full of weapons. I find a chest and prop it open, fishing out a dagger, its handle is gold and carved with runes that match the ones on the leather sheath. A large emerald stone is placed at the hilt and I turn it over in my hands, feeling the heavy weight of the metal - most likely Asgardian. I shove it down my chest and stand up. He might he furious at me for taking from him, he might even kill me but I do not care, I do not have much to live for anymore.

With the dagger safely at my chest, I retreat and head back to my room but I stop when I hear voices coming from the kitchen, I hide around the corner, recognising the quick tone of Helga and the dark growl of my captor.

“She left her room?” He asks, Helga responds in a simple yes as she chops, the sound of the knife clattering though the room. “And what did she do?” He asks her. I still, the colour draining from my face, limbs shaking.

“Came in here in search of a knife.” Helga drones, entirely uninterested. I wait in heavy silence for a negative reaction from my captor but receive none, only an interested hum. “I told her she’d have better luck in the armoury and she left, almost likely to grab a better blade.” My captor muses himself with a huff of his breath and sighs. “Interesting…” he says. “Do relay my message to her.” He asks and then he’s stalking out of the room and I press myself as far into the wall as I can go. I thank whatever good is out there and he turns and storms down the hallway, not even noticing me.

Hours later, Helga stands at my doorway again. I put down a copy of “little women” I found on one of the shelves in the room and look up at her, wondering if it has anything to do with my captor and his conversation with her.

“The prince has invited you to dine with him.” Helga tells me, no emotion in her voice. My dark eyebrows furrow in confusion at his ‘invitation’. ��He wishes to disgust a deal.” She informs me, I still remain frozen upon the bed. “If I were you I’d listen to what he has to say and if things were to go awry then… run like hell.” She tells me and then she is gone, shouting down the hall to be ready for eight. I glance at the clock and see it is in an hour.

After twenty minutes of consideration, I decide I will go. I keep on the dress I’m already wearing and ignore the makeup laid out for me on the vanity unit. My hair has now dried and I decided to plait it on a wreath around my head, keeping it up and out of my face, a practical hairstyle in case things go awry.

[thegoodenchantress22]

Day Three - Memories / Pilot / Hold On

With the newfound resurgence in interest of "the Patakis" I knew I had to do Helga Pataki, now fifteen and attending her first day of smart-people high school as a pilot episode that doesn't exist (yet). It's a little hard to read, but Helga does have the first of many letters from Arnold (who I head-canon is in San Lorenzo with his parents to reconnect and become a part-time humanitarian for the Helpers for Humanity in between school).

"Dear Helga, how are you? I'm alright. Starting school here soon. Things are definitely different... How is your school? I miss you... I hope we meet soon... From Arnold."

I did a mini sketch for this while I was visiting my uncle and aunt in the same sketchbook I did Shortaki Week 2022 in but didn't end up using it this time. Although the leaked pitch bible for the show had Helga in a blue shirt and jeans, the description says "she dons black t-shirts, androgynous jeans with big cuffs, and chunky combat-esque boots" and "on her head, instead of a bow, is a grungy stocking cap (the famous pink bow is hidden underneath)".

The Patakis show doesn't exist... yet... but with your help, you can sign a petition for a greenlight of the the show! Here's a link to the official "Operation: The Patakis" Twitter for more details! If it's something that interests you, we could have a similar resurgence to TJM!

Anywho, shameless plug out of the way, I hope you like Day Three~ I had a nice little time making it for you~

[vickyfashion]

The Devil in Pink

One of my favourite TV series when I was small was "Hey Arnold!". Looking at this series now, I realize how many contradictions there are in this cartoon which can become an amazing object for research.

Helga Pataki is a character that I find to be the most interesting. This girl is a complete opposite to the usual female behaviour. She is violent, tough, and bossy. She often bullies her classmates and takes advantage of her best friend Phoebe.

In contrast to that, Helga is fond of the pink color. She always wears a pink dress and a pink bow on her head. How come a girl with such a rude and unfeminine character is wearing something that is stereotypically female?

I find this contradiction fascinating, since the creators of the cartoon dressed the girl in pink for purpose. As we find out later, Helga actually has a soft side. She can be very emotional, loving, and gentle. Hence, her attachment to the pink might be regarded as a breakthrough of her inner soft character.

[mooni17]

Helga's grandma is here again, ready to give to the girl of the pink bow, the best b-day party in her life…. will her mission be successful?  

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14133308/28/Hillwood-tales 

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1328285265-hillwood-tales-28-my-sweet-xii 

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41552946/chapters/115906957 

La abuela de Helga está aquí otra vez, lista para darle a la niña del lazo rosa, la mejor fiesta de cumpleaños de su vida…. ¿Tendrá éxito su misión?

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14133308/28/Hillwood-tales

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1328285265-hillwood-tales-28-my-sweet-xii

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41552946/chapters/115906957

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Could I request Arthur Conan Doyle x reader, where reader gets to go to his residence (think Atlantis scene where helga goes to invite Milo to see her boss, “I came down the chimney, ho-ho-ho” 😈 ) and even though they work for phantomhive, master ciel just thought Arthur would feel more relaxed if he had arm candy at his event and then also his fav hardworking maid gets a night off to look pretty? Thanks!

first of all omg I LOVE Atlantis~

second of all I love Arthur!!

I hope I did okay hehe! I tried to capture the overall vibe~ <3

When ARTHUR walks through the door to the sitting room in his own home and you light up the candle on the table beside you, a slight pang of guilt hits you. The man looks at you like he’s about to faint dead away ― can you blame him?

What really stops you from feeling too bad is that he recovers fairly quickly. While he still looks as if he’s seen a ghost, all wide eyes and slow movements and face white as a sheet, he doesn’t flee in terror. So you can sit there smiling, batting your eyelashes at him.

Thank you, Master Ciel, you find yourself thinking. This man looks like a very good time.

You cross one leg over the other. That a flash of your skin between your skirts and your stockings might have been briefly visible to Arthur is not your problem… and even less your problem if it flusters him.

“Welcome home, Dr. Doyle! You’re a bit late, you know.” You reach onto the table to lift up his latest, unfinished manuscript. A fingertip carefully flips through the pages as you give Arthur an innocent look. “I got so bored, I started thumbing through your new book.”

He’s a little stiff, taking a couple of hesitant steps toward you. “Yes, well, I was…” The question of why he’s explaining himself to an apparent intruder hits him suddenly, and you can read it on his face that he’s probably wishing he carried a gun. “Wh ― I ― who… who are you?”

Your head cants to one side. “My name is (Name) (Surname). I’ve been sent by Earl Ciel Phantomhive.”

“… I see.” Though, the one of his voice makes it clear he’s trying to put the pieces together. “Earl Ciel Phantomhive, who’s just invited me to a private party for reasons I have yet to fathom?”

“The very same. Thank you very much for receiving me.” You set the manuscript back down, making sure to place it far enough away from the candle that it isn’t in danger of being set aflame.

“Did I have a choice in the matter?” he mutters under his breath before taking a better look at you. You don’t miss the way his cheeks color a light pink. “You know, you could have come to my practice if this was urgent.”

You chuckle. “Goodness, no! It’s not urgent enough to interrupt the work of a doctor treating his patients.”

“In that case,” he sighs, “I would invite you to use the front door next time.”

You wish you could stop the smirk that forms on your lips. “Would I have gotten your undivided attention if I came to call on you the same way everybody else does?”

His eyes look exhausted when he looks at you again. A few more steps, and he offers you a bow of the head. Up close, you can see what he must truly be like. Ciel didn’t give you too many details other than the fact that he’s a doctor and a writer.

The Arthur you see close to you is a tired man, someone just trying to live his life and achieve his dreams. It’s obvious (to you, at least) by what’s written of his current book that he’s frustrated. That he’s at the edge of giving up on his dreams.

That your young master has sent you here has almost nothing to do with the fact that you don’t want Arthur to give up. The world needs dreamers, the world needs writers, the world needs Arthurs. It would be a tragedy if he just abandoned his passion as a waste of time; the next book he writes could become a classic for future generations.

“I suppose not exactly, no.” He takes a seat in the chair on the other side of the table, then runs a hand through his hair. (It looks even better a bit mussed up, in your opinion. There’s something endearing about a handsome man slightly disheveled after a long day of work.) “Alright, well. What does Lord Phantomhive want? And who are you that he’s sent you to chat with me?”

“Why, I’m the young master’s most favorite maid,” you reply with a grin. … Haha, sorry, Mey Rin. “My lord wants to ensure that you’ll be at the party, that’s all. It starts soon. He wasn’t sure if you’d come, what with all the other people in attendance being people you probably don’t know, so… he thought he would sweeten the pot, so to speak.”

With this, you uncross your legs and instead cross your ankles, so that you can lean forward without giving the good doctor an eyeful of your legs. Not that you think he would mind. “Consider me your company for the evening, my dear. Master Ciel seemed to be of the opinion that you might be more comfortable with someone on your arm. I know we don’t know each other, but I promise I’m far less intense than anyone else who will show up. Except, perhaps, for Mr. Phelps, but, well…” You bat your eyelashes again. “I’m a bit prettier than he is. No offense meant to him, of course.”

For a long moment, as Arthur stares at you, he appears for the first time to take in the fact that you’re dressed… elegantly. Whilst it’s not an overly fancy outfit, it’s the finest thing you own, courtesy of your young master. Perfect for a dinner party like the one he’s putting on. The gears turn in Arthur’s head for a bit longer, and he blinks rapidly several times in succession.

“W… wait, but… why in the world would Lord Phantomhive care if I attend this party of his? I-I… I was going to go, and keep to myself, as I don’t want to slight him… I just…” His face flushes again. Notably, he avoids your eyes. “I’m… a nobody. It doesn’t make any sense to me why he desperately wants me in attendance.”

Finally you get to your feet, and within a handful of short steps, you’ve reached to take Arthur’s hands in your own. “You’re not a nobody, Dr. Doyle. I can’t speak for myself as to why my master is so eager to have you present, but I do know that in the five minutes I’ve known you, you’ve got my interest. You never know what’s the next thing to change the world ― it could be an advance in technology or medicine, or it could be a mystery novel from the mind of a brilliant doctor who is the only thing holding himself back.”

You offer a smile before leaning to brush a soft kiss to his cheek. After that, you draw back, pull your hands away, (enjoying the shade of red his face turns), and turn with your back to him. The skirts of your dress billow behind you as you start to walk toward the parlor. “Now, there’s a carriage nearby which brought me, so I’ll have that round front once you’re properly dressed for the occasion. Take as much time as you need, but I should remind you that my master, in contrast to the rest of high society, views lateness as very unfashionable indeed. You don’t want him to be cross with me for not hurrying you along, do you?”

You’ve left Arthur stammering behind you, by the sounds of things. His face is probably just as red as it was a moment ago. “I-I… I, well, no… no, I’ll… I’ll go get myself together…”

“Wonderful. I look forward to continuing to get to know you over the course of the evening, Doctor.” Genuinely, you mean that. This man is not only good-looking, hardworking, and intelligent… he seems to have a kind heart and a creative spirit.

You’re just about to step out when you hear a shy, “(N-Name), wait…!”

You look over your shoulder and blink curiously at Arthur. “Yes?”

“You… you said you read…” Oh. His manuscript is in his hands now. And those eyes… it’s almost as if they’re cutting right into your soul. Like he’s begging you for some kind of reason for him to keep pursuing his writing. Like he wants you to pull him back from the edge of giving up.

You nod. “I did.”

His fingers clutch lightly at the pages, wrinkling the parchment. “… It’s far from finished, it’s unpolished, but… did you… d-did you like it?”

Honestly, that question makes your thoughts go entirely silent. How can he wonder like that? From what you read, you were enthralled with the whole thing. It doesn’t seem to be even half finished, but it’s incredible. There was a reason you kept reading it.

“Yes.” Your tone is lower, more delicate, so he doesn’t doubt your sincerity were you to give an over-the-top display of delight. You smile at him over your shoulder. “You simply must keep writing it. If I don’t find out how it ends, you’ll never be rid of my pestering you for closure,” you tease.

You pause at the doorway to the parlor, lightly gripping one hand on the doorframe. In short order, you’ll be doing much the same to Arthur’s arm. “I’ll be waiting for you out here, Dr. Doyle.”

He nods, and his eyes look like he’s in some kind of dream. The way he’s gazing at you, it’s borderline worshipful. It makes you feel like you’ve just shone a small ray of hope into something he was ready to walk away from. You’re not sure you could ever adequately explain how much that means to you. “Yes, of course, I’ll… I’ll be along shortly.” A light rosy glow dusts his cheeks again. “And… and, please… c-call me Arthur.”

“As you like… well, I’ll see you soon, Arthur.” One more smile, and you quietly slip out into the parlor, then out the front door.

Idly, you can’t stop yourself from wondering if someone like you might wind up working her way into one of his books.

You very much pray he keeps writing.

[ichijager13]

To be in love with you

Summary : Oskar Von Reuenthal, the man who despised love and relationships find himself running to the woman he had an affair with when a civil war threatens to be declared offering her his protection.Will he finally admits he is in love with her? Will reader accept his protection? What is waiting for them at the end?

A/N: This is a Oskar Von Reuenthal fic I published on AO3. Here’s a link for the the first chapter.

Oskar Von Reuenthal x Reader, Slow burn, Feelings realization, sort of domestic fluff with a happy ending

Chapter II: The war is over.

the first weeks after you moved to his place can be resumed in your constant attempts to avoid him when he was home. You were thankful for his busy schedule and frequent absences. It wasn’t until the middle of the fifth week that you shared your breakfast. Thinking he has already left, you got dressed and went to the dining room to take your breakfast as usual.

“Good morning”. He greeted without taking his eyes off the rapport he was reading. “Slept well?”

“Good morning, yes thank you”. you took place at the table staring at him. you suspected he knew you were trying by all means to avoid him but he didn’t react to it.

“Do you have plans for the evening?” you looked surprised at him. “Evangeline, Mittermeyer’s wife is inviting us for dinner”. He lifted his head. “You haven’t left the mansion since you arrived”.

“I did not feel like going out”. You said sipping your coffee.

“I will pick you up at 6”. He said standing up. “I will be at my office the whole day; you can contact me in case you needed anything or ask one of the domestics to take care of it”. He ran a hand through his hair. “I brought you some books, I left them in the study. Have a nice day”.

Once you finished you checked the said books. This was the first time Oskar offers you something and you couldn’t help but feel all warm and fuzzy. During the last weeks; despite the absence of communication between you, you have discovered a new facet of him. Like when carries you to your bed when you fall asleep on the couch while reading, the bouquets he brings once in a while when he gets back home, throwing a blanket on your shoulder and leaving a glass of water on the table next to you before he goes to sleep when you stay till late in the hearth room reading. You can tell by the way he looks at you that something has changed. Finally, you decided to accept his friend’s wife's invitation. You asked one of the servants to buy a bouquet of flowers; tulips or pink roses you precise. And then went to the kitchen.

“Good morning, Helga”. By the end of the first week, you have memorized all of the domestics’ names. “Thank you for the delicious croissants. Can you please make that blueberry cake you made last week, one of Oskar’s friends has invited us for dinner and I don’t want to show up empty-handed”.

“Of course, madam”. She said smiling. Just like at your castle the staff of Oskar’s mansion appreciates you a lot. You have even heard them murmuring how you were kinder than his previous concubine. “Any special requests for today’s lunch”.

You shook your head smiling. “The menu you prepared at the beginning of the week with Ethel is perfect”.

After lunch the housekeeper, a woman in her fifties called Ethel cleared her throat to get your attention. “Good afternoon, madam, the master called to ask if you intend to accept Frau. Mittermeyer’s invitation”.

“Please tell him I do and that I have already taken care of the details. Thank you, Ethel”. She bowed before going back inside.

When Oskar came back home you were almost dressed. You wore a dark green dress and your hair was braided and pulled to the side. When he saw you moving around like you were the lady of the house, he felt the urge to wrap his arms around you and kiss you.

“Good evening, you look lovely”.

“Good evening, thank you”. and for the first time since you moved here, you offered him a smile.

He mirrored it before asking. “Are you ready?”

“Almost, your clothes are ready, I asked the maid to prepare them for you. I will be ready by the time you are done”. You answered before heading upstairs. This interaction wasn’t much but for the first time in years, he felt happy.

You haven’t noticed that Oskar was standing by the staircase watching you interact with his domestics. “Helga, have you wrapped the cake? And what about the flowers? Great thank you Ethel”.

“Is everything ready?” He placed a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t forget to bring a coat”.

“Yes, don’t worry I did”. You showed him the coat the maid was holding.

“Shall we?” he asked offering you an arm. At first, you hesitated but knowing all eyes were on you; you took the coat from the maid’s hands and wrapped your arm around his.

“She is bringing joy to this sad place”. Hubert -the intendant- said, both Helga and Ethel nodded.

“I hope she stays”. Helga added.

“I hope he proposes”. Ethel sighed.

You remained silent during most of the ride until you remembered the books he offered you. “Thank you for the books”.

He smiled. “I noticed you read a lot so I thought you might need more. Thank you for taking care of the presents”. He paused wondering if he should speak his mind or not. “You look beautiful”. He finally let out. It’s been a while since the last time he complimented you and that caused your face to redden.

The evening at the Mittermeyer’s went so well, Evangelin and Wolfgang were so kind and humble. You understood why Oskar prefers their company to the nobles’. The time you spent with them helped dissipate the tension established between Oskar and you. and it somehow made you feel relieved. after all, it was you who said you were tired of the war he was imposing on you.

“I hope I see you soon, and thanks again for the cake and the flowers”. Evangelin said at the moment you bid the Mittermeyers goodbye.

“Watch and learn my friend”. Oskar taunted his friend.

“I wonder if you will ever forget about it”. Wolfgang groaned causing the three of you to laugh.

“How about we invite them before I leave”. You mused once you got in the car. The least he could say is that your words took him by surprise. He didn’t know what to say or what to expect. You did become less rigid than the first days but something between you was still off.

“I would love to; they have never visited the mansion. Can I trust you with the organization?” you nodded smiling. “Thank you”. he breathed.

[bloodunderwatersstuff]

Helga pataki x Arnold shortman

Helga , do u think about me more then a friend ? He replied.

Arnold shortman was just 10 years old as he was waiting for his girlfriend to message him .

I’m waiting in the car . As we go to a diner this Sunday .

My parents won’t be home . Wink please connect me .

Helga was surprised that she was having him all to himself .

Well lucky u . He responded as he send his text message.

Helga pataki was still in her pink dress ( uniform) . While lying in bed . Picture herself writing in her diary .

About her true love . They were like soulmates. She began to rise from her slumber.

She pulls out her bow as her long blonde lock went down to her back .

Sigh , I would do anything for u my big brother. She sighed.

What the heck as she took herself a bubble bath. Helga was such a beautiful teenager with a fear of blood .

So like I’m inside your apartment . He replies back .

He paused as he films her bathing . Such a sweet kid . He pulls on a condom from his pocket.

It looks like we’re going to eat each other out !

[stevenuniverse2]

Helga pataki _ the lost dairy

Helga pataki was only 9 years old when she's meets a certain boy in school .

Hi . I like your bow it's pink like your pants.

Arnold shortman reply while messages her .

Huh , sigh he's the boy with the corn flower hair and blue eyes.

Sigh , boyhood starts to trumble.

Helga smooches him . He was blushing like madness.

Helga pataki you gave me something good. And just like that it was true love.

Arnold kisses her hand . Like Romeo towards juliet.

She was the east as I was to her west .

My sweet Caroline.

[shining-stxrs]

"Oh okay. I think I have an idea." Taking out a box of markers he pulled out a pink one. Drawing a bow on their egg just like the girl's. "I think a good name for them is helga junior." Plus this way they wouldn't lose their egg if this project ever got really hectic. Likely if the two started arguing which he really hoped wouldn't be the case for once.

He was actually looking forward to this. He actually liked the girl quite a bit when she wasn't putting on the whole tough bully act. When helga was nicer he could really call her a friend. At that moment the bell rung. "Oh looks like school over." He commented before offering helga his hand to hold. "Ready to go?"

@rainbowxfmuses

"Hey helga. Looks like we'll be working on this project together." He knew him and the girl hadn't had the best relationship. Often he was the target of her bullying but he was optimistic if they started things off on the right foot they could make things work between them. "So did you wanna come over my house first to watch our egg?"

[heyhelga]

livin in wonderland

[rubychairez]

Helga and Arnold 🫤🤧sorry for not posting