#I say as I rush to post something after once again deciding to reread

[alexiethymia]

a concept: Lockwood was as jealous of the Skull as Lucy was of Holly during The Hollow Boy

[smallraindrops-blog]

I Know A Place (just for you and me)

Part 5

WMFTD!Y/N X Hypnos

Word count: 7.3

Warnings: Fluff, heavy angst, implied sex, death, AUs out of the wazoo, no beta.

Notes: 

I was going to hold off on posting this but with how long it's been since I posted anything I made, I decided to push this one out a little earlier. Thanks everyone for their patience and I hope y'all enjoy this!

also everyone go tell @jun-yng thanks for their big brain idea of ‘How to train your dragon’ AU, it wouldn’t exist without them. ( also look at their pretty art and pet the screen as you mutter like a feral person)

All parts can be found on the Masterlist

~

Fighting Evil by Moonlight (Magical girls au)

Hypnos wanted it to be noted in the records that she wanted nothing to do with any of this. 

Like she was going to hire a handsome lawyer who would nod with compassion as she told him everything and yell ‘objection!’. He would do it for her honor, then he would confess to falling madly in love with her the moment she stepped into his high rise office. 

She had been more happy to stay home with her clay mask and her softest pj on while she reread ‘The Surrender of Aphrodite’ for the millionth time. 

Unlike Zagreus who had seen the shiny dumb egg fall out of the night skies and went chasing after it. 

”Duck!” Zagreus yelled to the team, her dark hair fanned behind her as she twisted out of the way of the queen monster’ glimmering beam, causing her black skirt to lift up.

Hypnos landed on the damp, cold ground of the park, cursing as the disgusting mud touched her bare thighs. Her - stupid, too short, too ruffled - ruby red skirt hid nothing as she rolled to get out of the way of another beam.

Once this dumb thing was sent back to the underworld or wherever they went to, Hypnos was going to treat herself to a double cheeseburger with some fries and a good crying session in a very hot shower.

“We need to kill these things and fast!” Melinoë called out. Her swift form was a blur of orange as she swung her weapon, taking one of the freaky and smaller monsters out.  

“Like you don’t say? I thought we were going to invite them over a sleepover!” Hypnos snapped between chatting teeth. 

Hypnos took the chance to get back on her two feet, wobbly on the high heels and flipping her long curls over her shoulder. In a desperate attempt to summon her own weapon, she waved a hand in front of her chest.

Her impractical red flower brooch began glowing from its place in the middle of her giant bow but no weapons formed. Again.

Instead she coaxed her own magic forward, pale and misty. So unlike the vibrant colors of the other princesses, Hypnos thought sourly. 

A moment later, red flowers bloomed from the mist in her palm.

While everyone else got cool weapons and flashy attacks, Hypnos just had these dumb red flowers. However if she tossed enough in her foe’s face, they went down for a nap time. 

That little fact she discovered the first time in pure panic when Zagreus found that egg and a slime monster tried to eat them. 

One of the monsters rushed toward her, the eyes in the skull glowing an ugly yellow, its mouth a gaping black maw and Hypnos readied the flowers in a tight fist. 

Only to realize in horror that two more were charging from both sides.

Hypnos froze, her breath caught in her chest as she tried to work out what to do. She wasn’t a fighter- she wanted to go home- they had only been magical girls for two weeks-

Just as the monsters were about to jump her, their fangs sharp in the moonlight, Hypnos felt something heavy wrapped around her waist, yanking her up against a solid form as they leaped away from the oncoming monsters.

The monsters slammed into each other, so hard that they vanished. 

Hypnos blinked, dizzy as she realized that she was unharmed, her hands grabbing at the heavy arm around her waist. Then she saw the fluttering cloak in the breeze, matching the scarlet of her ridiculous outfit, and the golden shine of armor. 

A gleaming spear moved in front of her, another barrier of protection.

”Protect the princesses!” Her knight in shining armor roared to the other arriving knights, each one swiftfully taking out the monster far more faster than any of the princesses did.

Zagreus and Meilnoe weren’t going to be happy about the Knights coming to the rescue once again but Hypnos couldn’t find it in herself to be that upset. She slumped against the knight with a heavy sigh. 

She parted her lips to thank her knight.

Only to get dragged away and shoved into a bush. She winced in pain at the sharp jabs of the leaves.

”Hey- what is the-” Hypnos went quiet as the gloved finger pointed at her. The knight’s face was hidden by the golden helmet and shadows. But Hypnos still felt the intensity of their eyes on her.

“Stay here. I will fetch you when it is safe.” The knight growled then turned away, still muttering. “I swear you all are a butch of boneheads. Pains in my ass, all of you!” 

“Am not!” Hypnos called back, suddenly wishing that the knight didn’t save her just so they would have felt guilty when Hypnos got hurt. She huffed as she watched the knight neatly killed off the monsters.

Zagreus was yelling at one of them, silver armor with a black cloak. Melinoe was just trying to help finish off the last few with her knights in silver and orange. 

Hypnos’ knight - not that she liked calling them that but it seemed the magic wanted them all to be color coded for whatever reason- looked far too dashing in their golden armor and red cloak as they ruthlessly killed the queen monster in a single hit. 

Like a knight from a storybook that Hypnos would daydream over. 

Deciding for herself that it was more than safe, Hypnos stood with a huff and went to join her fellow princesses. 

~

It was after five minutes or so of listening to Zagreus arguing with the knights that Hypnos decided she was far too cold and hungry to stay out much longer.

Besides, it was a school night anyway. And she was done wearing these heels.

”I’m leaving.” Hypnos informed the group in a loud yawn. Not that anyone was paying attention to her anyway.

Hypnos turned on her heels and began the long walk back home. Hopefully her brothers or mom won’t notice Hypnos sneaking through her bedroom’s window, she will just act like she was asleep the whole time when they finally do see her.

A moment later, she sensed rather than hear the knight join behind her, a watchful guard - or a babysitter if she was being honest. 

“I will be fine. Shoo, go polish your armor or kill a dragon or whatever it is that knights do.” Hypnos waved a dismissive hand over her shoulders. 

“What knights do is watch over their foolish princess, especially when she tries to walk home alone in the dark.” Her knight shot back. Hypnos felt her cheeks flushed at the implication of the words but only scoffed.

She lifted her arm up, scowling at her flower brooch, and with a tap on it, her school uniform was restored in a gentle light as the brooch changed back to a dainty bracelet with a single charm of a red flower dangling from it.

Thankfully - or unfortunately depending- it returned her school bag as well, but her knight picked it up before Hypnos could, swinging it onto their shoulder. Hypnos gave them a cool glare before she began her walk again.

If her knight wanted to carry her stuff, so be it. Less work for Hypnos.

While the long sleeves of her button up and longer skirt helped a little, it wasn’t as much as she hoped. Shivering, Hypnos crossed her arms. She really needed to remember to get her beloved coat from school tomorrow.

“I swear you guys don’t know how to take care of yourself at all.” Her knight grumbled. Before she could snap back, a heavy, warm weight enveloped her form. 

The cloak. 

If Hypnos was like Zagreus, so desperate to prove herself, Hypnos might have protested but she wasn’t. Hypnos sighed deeply in relief, wrapping it around tightly and buried her face in it to get warm. There was a faint scent to it, almost like a campfire maybe. 

Whenever it was, it smelled good.

For a long moment, they walked side by side in silence. Even with the armor, the knight moved with a quiet, easy grace that Hypnos was envious of. 

“Thank you.” Hypnos said finally, peeking up from her lashes. Gosh, but the knight might be one of the tallest people she ever met. Beside Asterius.

If the voice was deeper, more masculine, it could be Asterius… Hypnos felt her heart flutter with hope.

“Just be more careful next time.” Her knight grumbled. Their voice was low, more like warm silk but most certainly not Asterius.

Hypnos nodded, her hopes dashed but she was surprised to find that she wasn’t that upset. Asterius and his ‘friend’ had something going on even if Hypnos was the only one to notice. “I'm just not made for fighting. I don’t even get a weapon.” 

“You are the reincarnation of a sleep deity or something right? Why would you be near a battlefield anyway?” The knight asked. From the way their tone sounded, it seemed like that question had been on their mind for a while.

Hypnos shrugged, her tone dry. “Seems wrong to get some type of power and not help out my fellow princesses. Zagreus also wouldn’t leave me alone. And I don't want to upset whatever god tossed that egg our way.”

Another silence fell between them. The trees rustled, losing more of the bold leaves. 

“You know what?” Hypnos said suddenly. “I wouldn’t mind all this- the fighting, the late nights -that uniform- you saw how short that skirt is right? Especially with those heels. Anyone could see my panties.”

At that the knight made a strangled noise, like they were in great deal of pain but Hypnos decided it must be their version of laughing in agreement. 

Hypnos sighed, waving her hand around, scowling at the sparkling charm. “I wouldn’t mind if I was actually useful. All I can do is create those dumb red flowers- ow!“

She stopped, hissing at the sharp pain in her scalp. She twisted her head, staring at the charm that was caught in her curls.  Hypnos heard the knight muttering something under their breath, stepping far too close. 

A gloved hand caught her chin, their thumb pressed against her sudden flushed cheek. The leather was cool against her skin but it didn’t help to cool her skin. Hypnos’ heart raced, like a bird caught in her chest as the knight leaned in. 

With gentleness Hypnos didn’t expect, the knight began to untangle the charm out of her curls. 

“Stupid flower.” Hypnos said, desperately trying to look anywhere else. Her other hand tightened on the cloak.

”Poppy.” The knight said abruptly. Hypnos frowned up at them with a quick glance, her eyes on them once again. Even this close, their face was hidden away.

”Those flowers? They are called poppies.” Her knight chuckled, they sounded too amused for their own good. 

“Oh. Wowie, didn’t know that.” Hypnos whispered, once again unable to look at the knight. She sounded like a fool and she wanted the ground to open up to swallow her.

That little laugh had sent a pool of warmth to her chest and Hypnos was torn between running away, her hair be damned or leaning in closer. 

Hypnos wanted to say something else, something clever or seductive like Lady Aphrodite would come up with but her tongue felt heavy as she caught a whiff of that spicy scent again.

“They are supposed to help with pain and with rest.” Her knight spoke up, their voice low. “That's why the chaos egg gave you these gifts. Poppies belong to you, princess, just as sweet dreams and gentle sleep all belong to you.”

Hypnos felt the moment that her charm was freed, the knight’s warm hand curled around her wrist. With a shaky breath, Hypnos looked up, wishing desperately that she could see their eyes.

The knight shifted closer, there was barely any space left between them. Hypnos licked her lips nervously, her heart racing. Like a flash, Hypnos wanted to stand on her toes and kiss this stranger.

Then they jerked, as if realizing how close they and Hypnos were. Her knight immediately stepped away, dropping their hands away.

Hypnos swayed, thrown off balance by the abrupt change. She had been sure they were about to say something else. Her knight shifted the bag on their broad shoulder, already walking away. 

“Come on, princess. It is getting late.” They snapped. 

Hypnos gasped in outrage. She almost didn’t follow them but then remembered they had her bag. 

Fuming with a childish anger, She stuck her tongue out behind their back.

”Put that back in your mouth.” They called out, not even turning around to look at her.

Hypnos sighed loudly and had to run to get caught up.  Nothing was more said between them. Hypnos kept glancing over them but unable to find the right words.

“We are getting near the park’s entrance.” Her knight informed her and Hypnos blinked in surprise. She didn’t realize how close they were, too lost in her thoughts.

“Oh.” Hypnos said. They were still hidden by the evergreen shrubs but it would be easy for someone to spot them once inside the park.

Hypnos gave her Knight a side glance. “You should probably change back. People will notice someone walking around in shiny, gold metal. The movie set thing won’t work, trust me.” 

She couldn’t hide the hopeful tone of her words. Hypnos wanted to know the face behind that helmet. She wanted to know the person that damn egg had paired her with.

”Nope. Sorry, princess.” Her knight said, not sounding all that sorry. Hypnos resisted the urge to stomp her foot like a toddler.

The knight handed over her school bag and she huffed as she looked back at the city. “Stay in the lights, I will protect you until you get home safe.”

Hypnos frowned, turning back to glare at the knight but the space next to her was empty.

“W-what-“. Hypnos turned in a circle, trying to find her companion in the shadows of the park. “Oh come on!”

Hypnos tightened the red cloak around her like a blanket. She stomped her foot. “This is so unfair. I am keeping your cloak!”

~

(The next morning)

At the sound of a motorcycle, Hypnos lifted her head up to scowl at her new guest. Next to her in a sleek sport bike, you peered at her through the visor as you stopped the vehicle in the bike lane.

Thankfully this street was empty with no traffic, making it easy to hear.

You were dressed in your uniform of jeans and your worn leather jacket open carelessly to reveal a black shirt with your parents’ gym logo in the middle.

She felt her cheeks flushed, those familiar butterflies returning to her stomach. She pointly didn’t look at your chest. Or shoulders. 

It was so unfair how much cooler you were. All of Hypnos’ life, you were always this untouchable cool girl that everyone wanted but couldn’t have. 

It didn't do anything to kill her crush on you however, if anything it just made it worse.

“Get on.” You ordered, with a nod toward the backseat. “Did you sleep in again?”

“I was up late last night, you know, saving the world and all that.” Hypnos replied cheerfully. She could be lackadaisical as she wanted, she knew you wouldn’t believe her.

You rolled your eyes like Hypnos knew you would. “You are so spoiled. I have your stupid helmet in my side bag.” 

With a half-hearted glare,Hypnos moved quickly as she could, pulling out her cherry red kitty ears helmet. She loved it so much. 

With a practiced grace, she got on the bike as she placed her helmet on.

it would mess up her hair but as long as she didn’t get in trouble for being late for school again, she didn’t care.

She wrapped her arms around your solid waist just before you took off. Hypnos tucked herself in close with a sigh as you expertly weaved around the traffic. 

You should have been in school with her but you had studied harder than most students and graduated a solid year before anyone else to help with your family business. 

You were probably the reason your parents' business hasn't gone under especially with the rumored health problems of Patroclus. 

Hypnos gave you a squeeze, hoping you knew what she was trying to say. 

And oddly enough, afterwards the faint spicy smell of campfire lingered around her for the rest of the day.

She was going to ask you where you got that cologne, it should definitely be a clue on which guy from school was her knight.

~~~~~~

Speak. (Podcaster Au)

It was around three in the morning when you gave up the ghost. 

Sleep didn’t come again.

Your body felt too anxious, sure that enemies lurked in the shadows, ready to bury a blade in your neck. You rolled out the bed and began to pace in your room. You lived alone, so you wouldn’t be bothering anyone else with your craziness thankfully.

or PTSD as the therapist called it, throwing more alphabets at you along with bright orange pills bottles. Colorful pills that did nothing for you and you glared at the medicine on your nightstand.

It was unfair because you knew this stuff had to help others but it had been months, hell years since you got a good night's rest. Even nightmares would be better than insomnia at this point.

You just wanted to be able to close your eyes and sleep.

~

It was the desperation of seeing another sunrise with dry eyes that burned that sent you looking at podcasts, Zagreus never shut up about them. He always seemed to have one on, and constantly sent you links that you never opened.

Maybe there would be one that would bore you to sleep.

You carefully avoid the ones about current events, you were not in the right headspace for that shit right right now. Definitely not the true crimes one. You scoffed at the alpha males podcasts and rolled your eyes at the historical wars ones. 

No one knew what it was like until it was them in on the muddy fields, listening to everyone dying-

You shook your head sharply, slamming it against the headboard. You didn't wince at the sharp jolt of pain that shot your mind like lightning. You welcomed it. You resisted the urge to repeat it.

You closed your eyes as you forced yourself to do the breathing exercises. 

In.

Hold. 

Out. 

Breath. 

Half an hour later, you resumed your hunting, this time on the much softer couch. Beams of sunlight peered in, dust molts in the amber light. You debated trying to eat something but the thought of even trying made you nauseous. 

It was only by luck when you saw it. You remembered that Zagreus had mentioned it, the name unusual enough to stick in the dimness of your mind. It didn’t seem very popular.

You read the title again.

‘Shut up, Hypnos: A rambling podcast.’

Frowning, you skimmed over the playlist. It seemed this guy picked the most random topic imaginable and then spent anywhere from three to- you blinked and squinted, bringing your phone closer- sixteen hours just talking.

Shut up indeed, you thought with an exhausted chuckle. 

Deciding the seven hours episode on the history of the card game ‘Uno’ was a safe one, you began it as you stared up at the ceiling. There was the first minute of ads, a woman talking about building websites in a near orgasmic tone. 

Then.

”Helllloooo, welcome to my closet and to my podcast. If you don’t know me, my name is Hypnos - yes, I know the name is weird, tell that to my mom- and this is ‘Shut up, Hypnos.’ Where I will talk to you until you either toss your phone into a river with pure disgust at humanity or fall asleep from sheer boredom! Whichever comes first.” 

You blinked, of all the voices you expected, it wasn’t that one. It was airy, not bad but something that told you the man might be pitching it up higher than natural. 

But still, not bad.

”Uno. Dos- tres- No, only Uno please.” Hypnos laughed at his own joke. It was a nice laugh. Your eyes traced the sunbeams on your ceiling.

“That game was the bane of my existence from the moment I gained consciousness and the dexterity required to hold the cards. I don’t think I won a single game and I always ended up with half of the deck in my hands.” Hypnos rambled on. 

You never ever saw this man, not a single clue of what he looked like but you could picture it, a child scowling at the cards. 

“A family ‘game night’ brought up the memories of my horrible childhood and I decided to look up who created this game solely to torture me and me alone. So, my listener, if you haven’t driven us off a cliff yet, let me take you to a magical place called ‘Ohio’ in the year of 1971…”

The last thing you remembered was Hypnos’ outraged at the man who mortgaged his house for a mere eight thousands dollars - ‘shush, listener, I know it was the seventies and it worked out for them but still!’- and the way the golden light seemed to dip like honey.

Hypnos began speaking off topic something related to the game but his voice was faraway now, a quiet murmuring that flowed like the river lethe.

You didn’t remember closing your eyes.

~

When you woke up, you had dried drool on your chin with no idea what time or day it was. It was dim inside and it felt like you had been sleeping forever. Your mind was sluggish and it actually took you a moment to sit up. 

Your phone was on the ground, Hypnos’ cheerful voice still going. You rubbed at your face as you tried to wake up. 

He was no longer talking about ‘Uno’. You weren’t sure what it was about but when Hypnos had said something about genitalia and heroin in the same sentence, you finally picked your phone up.

The episode was named ‘The Ballad of Sexual Dependency by Nan Goldin: post Stonewall art’ 

Then you saw the time. 

You had slept for a solid fifteen hours straight. 

Your phone was clinging to life with six percent left and you needed to pee and you felt your stomach growl, hunger sharp in you for the first time in months. You still felt lost in the fabric of time and space, your head heavy with sleep.

Hypnos was still talking, ranting about an art project that a teacher failed him on because it wasn’t showing Hypnos’ truest intentions.

“What does that mean? What the fuck-“ Hypnos ranted, his anger so genuine that you smiled. “Why spend hours telling me art is subjective then go tell me that-“

You never felt better.

~

A week or so later, Hypnos was spinned around in his wheely chair, sipping on his ice coffee, trying to decide if he wanted to rant about the elephant and their pinnae. He eyed his computer with about twenty tabs he had pulled on elephant ears as he kept spinning.

Monie was staring at him, or rather at the iced coffee in his hand. Her little white Pom tail swayed with hope.

“You can’t have this.” Hypnos informed his dog for the millionth time, still spinning even as the world was getting blurry. “You will die.” 

Monie only made her black eyes bigger and wetter and so much sadder because Hypnos loved her enough to make sure she didn’t kill herself with caffeine.

“I know Monie, no one’s life is harder than yours, you silly dog.”

He heard a ping, meaning his Patreon just got something. Hypnos stopped himself, dizzy as he tried to see what he got. He usually got a dollar or two here and there. So he could definitely get more coffee. 

Maybe even enough for some Taco Bell. He was a big dreamer afterall. He laughed to himself as he looked.

His face went numb, his coffee spilled over his lap as he stared open mouthed at the screen.

He was reading it wrong.

Right? Right.

He automatically picked Monie up so she couldn’t lick at the spilled coffee.

Oh gods.

Rubbing his eyes hard as he could with one hand, he leaned forward, Monie still held aloft as he stared like a fool.

A fat, whole ten grand. It had to be a mistake. He was sure of that.

Then Hypnos saw the message, no real name, just random numbers and letters. 

Just a simple ‘Thank you, Hypnos.’

~~~~~~

Fly high (HTTYD Au, Icelos' pov )

The day they lost Dad, all Icelos remembered was fire. Fire and screams in the dead of the night, the black smoke of dragon fire hid even the stars. Her father’s scream of anguish was louder than even the mightiest dragon roar.

She remembered crying, her twin’s face was a mirror of her own pain.

It was the day they lost their Father too, a proud man who left as a hollowed out ancient tree after a great fire, one that still stood, blackened and ruined.

~

The few scraps of information that Icelos got about her Dad came from others, an off hand comment here or there from Achilles or a neighbor. They had uncles and aunts from their Dad’s side but they never visited anymore.

Icelos wondered often if they blame her father for what happened. 

Sometimes she wanted to write to them, her neat penmanship messy from her anger, to let them know, their stones of guilt were mere pebbles to the world that her Father carried.

She never did.

Instead she hoarded the few bit of her dad that she could.

’Your Dad had the worst sweet tooth I have ever seen, especially with honeyed goods.’ That had come from the baker, after waving a wooden spoon at Morpheus for taking a third helping of hard honey.

‘I still expect to see him napping on the porch.’ Achilles had remarked to Patroclus once, not realizing that Icelos was still in earshot.

And when she was younger, she found books tucked away in a box, many with notes inside an unfamiliar handwriting. It had been the mentions of her Father’s name along with ‘my husband’ that she realized it must be her Dad who wrote these.

She devoured every last one, reading the off hand comments and the bad jokes - so many that it reminded her of Morpheus- to some akin to worship. Icelos thought maybe if she listened hard enough, she would hear him like a lost god murmuring her ears.

Father rarely spoke of Hypnos, although sometimes Icelos caught how Father would watch them sometimes, like he saw someone else. His harsh demeanor softened for a moment.

Icelos wanted to ask him, what did he see? 

Was Dad there in the curve of Morpheus’ cheesy grin, or the way her twin brother would find a perfect patch of afternoon sun to nap in like a cat? 

Was it Photobtor and his eyes, perfect honey gold even in the dark of the night?

She had wanted to ask, perhaps more than anything, did she have anything from Hypnos that none of the others had? Something that was purely theirs. Hypnos and Icelos.

Father always turned away before Icelos found her courage, his broad shoulders just slumped ever so slightly.

Unwillingly, their dad had become a shade in their lives, or something so mystical that it would ruin the house if spoken aloud. Or maybe it would just burn away at the last remaining bit of their father, causing him to fall like an old tree, wood too rotten even for warmth in the cold, lonely night.

~

Icelos was so startled by how warm the dark scales of her night fury felt underneath her palm that her breath hitched. The dragon closed its eyes, completely trusting Icelos.

She let out a breathless laugh. Tears burning in her eyes.  

If her Father could see her now…

She looked down at the trusting beast, its hot breath gentle on her skin. 

He could never know.

~

So of course, Father found out a week later.

But there wasn't time, she had to save her best friend, her father and her grandparents, to show her brothers, everyone what it meant to really fly.

What she remembered wasn’t the flames reaching up for her. It was the determination in her night fury’s eyes. 

Sometimes Icelos wondered if she actually heard her Father’s voice, screaming out her name.

~

After everything, years later with dragons flying in the cold skies of winter, it was Icelos that Father brought to the clan meetings. 

She stayed quiet, standing by his elbow as he dealt with clan matters of hunting, food storage, supplies for homes and the construction of new pathways. There were disputes to settle between the clan members- land rights, cattle and so on- and there were so many countless little things that she never thought about before. 

Her Night Fury had fallen asleep about five minutes in and Icelos never felt such envy before.

When the last of the villagers left, her Father sighed heavily.  “I don’t suppose your dragon won’t mind adding to the fireplace for us?”

“What?” Icelos yelped, waking up her dragon who huffed at her. “But what else is there to do?”

Father smiled grimly as he nodded toward the books on the table. “We shall start with the fun stuff first. We have to go through the incident reports- your dragons are a little too enthusiastic about helping then we have the petitions, expense reports, contracts, reports or requests for help from other clans, livestocks records and so on.”

Icelos moaned in pain as she fell backward into a chair, rubbing her face. Her dragon grumbled at her, sending a burst of flames toward the fireplace. 

“My thanks.” Her father told the dragon, taking a large piece of dried jerky from the table and tossed it. Her nightfury snapped it up greedily, purring in pleasure.

”Father, must we?” Icelos glanced over the piles of books. Was this why she didn’t see her Father until late in the evening? Her knee ached, the false leg cold against her skin. 

She used to like winter but as the weather got deeper and she got older, she found herself not enjoying it as much as she did in her youth.

Icelos shifted and somehow her dearest friend knew, pressing its warm body against her leg, resting their heavy head on her lap. She gave them a pat on their head.

Father approached her, his brow furrowed. “Is your leg bothering you?”

”Yeah but I want to stay.” Icelos said firmly, straightened her back as she met her Father’s hard stare. She kept her head high, not glancing away like someone else might have from her father. 

She may be older now but a single glance from those eyes could still make her feel little like a girl with her hand in the cookie jar.

For a long moment, Icelos thought he would order her to go home but he just nodded, pulling out a leather flask from his cloak. When he poured her a small drink of ale, she nearly went bug-eyed. Father was a hard ass about his kids drinking hard liquor.

”Just this once.” He told her with a wry glance. She thought she almost saw a rare smile. “For the leg. Don’t tell your brothers.” 

Icelos nodded, suddenly feeling very grown up with her drink and paperwork.

After a deep drink for himself, Father brought the books closer to her along with papers and quills. She didn’t have to do any of the paperwork yet but he went over each piece of information carefully, telling her the context and exactly why it mattered. 

It was late in the night when they were done. Icelos slumped in her chair and she watched with heavy eyes as Father placed the paperwork away. 

“Do you know why I chose you?” Father said abruptly, causing Icelos to wake up a little. After a moment, she gave him a goofy smile.

”My neat handwriting?” She guessed, not sure where he was going with that. He huffed, an almost laugh.

”No.” he told her, returning to stand next to her. He placed a large, warm hand on her shoulder. His expression shifted, unreadable in the firelight. “You remind me so much of your dad.”

Icelos blinked, her lips parting but no sounds came out. How long had it been since she last heard Father speak of Hypnos, the shade that haunted their lives? The one that Father still seemed to look for sometimes. 

Father was no longer looking at her, staring into the fire. “Your dad wasn’t suited for leadership but he knew how to… keep me grounded, to make sure I didn’t lead with an ax in my hand and damnation in the other.”

Icelos only nodded, too stunned to speak. She gave her confused dragon a pet on the head, the smooth scales comforting her. 

“You have the best of him. He knew how to stay cheerful even in the darkest times, he was gentle even if he couldn’t help but make smart comments, especially to me.” Father continued, his voice was so quiet, so hopelessly fond. 

Years and years later, he still sounded like he was in love. “Just like you.”

”Oh.” Icelos swallowed, tears forming unwillingly. She didn’t want to cry because if she did, Father might stop.

”You could be a great leader for our clan, Icelos. You have his gentle heart but my iron hand. The fact you already unified our clan and the dragons is only the tip of the iceberg of far you could go.” Father turned back to her, his eyes watchful.

And maybe she was imagining it in her sleep deprivation but- he looked proud. Of her.

She nodded, trying to appear like a leader. She wanted that desperately, to fit in the role her father gave her. “I want to be great. For you and dad.” 

“You already are.” He said, squeezing her shoulder gently.

~

Icelos thought she was going mad. 

Her body was shaking, her breathing kept hitching sharply. Her Night Fury let Icelos braced herself against them, their eyes locked on the pair before her.

A Light Fury was glaring at them, their teeth bared but the man next to the dragon didn’t move, didn’t breath.

How often had Icelos seen those white curls, those golden eyes reflected back in the mirror?

Faintly she heard a noise. Soft and broken. 

Then she realized it came from her twin. Morpheus was shocked into silence, his harsh breathing the only thing hint to his anger, to his pain while Phobetor watched with an hesitant expression. 

“Oh my little starlights.” Hypnos said quietly. the once shade, the ghost that haunted their home, that broke her father beyond repair, smiled warmly. 

His sunlit eyes were bright with tears. “It really is you. All of you.”

Just like that, Icelos and everything she thought she knew fell apart.

~

In the chaos of everything, Icelos had tried to plan for how Dad and Father were going to be reunited after she fixed the issues with the alpha dragon and the bastard keeping other dragons locked up. 

Only for Father to come looking for his lost ducklings. His stormcutter, an old king like her father, has swept in the hiding place with a liquid grace. 

There was no chance to warn him.

Icelos waited for the rage, for the hurt to spill forward like the flames of a Monstrous Nightmare. 

It was clear that Hypnos was doing the same, his shoulders tight, arms crossed over his chest. Father was staring at Hypnos like he couldn't believe he was really there, like he was seeing a ghost. 

Her father was rarely surprised, the only other time she had seen this was when he had caught her riding her beloved dragon. Then he flew in a rage unlike anything she had ever seen.

For painfully long moments, the silence grew. The heaviness of it barring down on her shoulders. 

“I would welcome you to my humble domicile but you didn't even knock.” Hypnos quipped, his voice was airy but Icelos heard the tension in it, a bird’s racing heartbeat. “Just like our wedding night. No manners whatsoever.”

Icelos knew she looked bugged eyed just like her brothers, no one had ever spoken to their father like that. Not even their most ferocious enemies.

Father stepped closer, his eyes locked onto Hypnos. Hypnos swallowed, but didn't look at him, eyes on Father's chest. 

Slowly as if Hypnos was more mist than flesh, Father touched his chin and lifted his head up, studying every line and curve of his husband's face.

Father looked raw, like something made new. His expression tender as a heartbreaking smile broke across his face, his eyes shining. He was about to cry, Icelos realized.

“You're as beautiful as the day I lost you.” His voice was low, rough and so in love. Hypnos gasped, his face crumbling with tears.

They embraced, clinging together so tightly not even the gods could part them now. 

Hypnos was sobbing, his words spilling out of him in a rush. Father was shushing him, his own mighty form shaking as he cupped the back of Hypnos’ head.

At that point, Phan touched her shoulder, jerking his head toward a different, far away area. Icelos nodded, realizing that the other two had already left, giving their parents some privacy.

Later, Icelos dangled her feet off the edge, smiling as her night fury chased the light fury. She had a suspicion her dragon was madly in love but she won't tease them just yet. 

Morpheus had taken off, needing to lick his own wounds, still hurt and angry at their dad. Her twin was speaking to Phobetor of what happened that night. 

He had been far too young the night it happened. 

And Icelos… 

She watched from high above,a stolen moment in the gentle lights, the soft greenery of the cave as her parents swayed together. 

Their voices were too low, too far away but they looked happy, even with tears marks on their cheeks. 

Maybe it was too soon, everything still too raw by the scraping of lost years on their souls but somehow she knew this would be for the better.

~~~~~~

Decisions (Reincarnation au)

Hypnos woke up alone, his cheeks stained with tears. He sniffed, rubbing his face as he sat up. His wings fluttered against his hands. The blanket was spilling off of him and onto the floor.

It was already fading, whatever it was that brought him to tears although the familiar grief lingered in his chest.

Waking up like this was something that just happened sometimes. Hypnos wondered if he would ever get used to it. If he even should get used to it.

”You’re crying.” His captain’s voice was low, gravelly as the bed dipped under your weight. 

“Was. Now I am at the gross snotty phase.” Hypnos corrected, shifting as you pulled him into your arms. Hypnos sighed, tucking his head under your chin. Humans were so much warmer than his species, their bodies hot as a pure summer day.

His wings flared out and lifted up, the tips kissing your cheeks as a greeting. You turned your head, nuzzling against one, and Hypnos couldn’t hide his smile. He loved that his captain tried to mimic his species’ sign of affection with his own human ones.

Your hand rubbed up and down his back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Hypnos hummed low in his chest, thinking about it. 

It was no secret that you had oftentimes disliked the other versions of you. Your born calloused, possessive and beastly nature against the civilized knight of your mind were often at war with each other. 

Sometimes the knight won, other times it was the beast. Sometimes they coexisted. 

Hypnos didn’t have the heart to tell you that you still carried such behaviors even now. 

Your large hand spread over Hypnos’ lower back when someone else looked a little too long, the way you would dipped your head to listen to him, the adoring nips on his vulnerable neck as you worshiped him like an pagan and their god. 

Beast and man, always at war with each other.

“I don’t agree with some of the choices I- the other me made. I understand but I don’t agree. I think.” Hypnos sighed. He wiggled in your lap until he could look at you. “How do you deal with it?”

“I call them -or myself- a worthless bastard and try to move on. Can’t change it now.” You said, trying to lighten the mood like Hypnos often did.

Hypnos nodded slowly, then decided he didn’t want to think about it. He silded his wings behind your head, pulling you down for a greedy kiss. Your hands squeezed his waist, pulling his slender body flushed against yours.

Later, tangled together like vines and dozing, Hypnos mused on cycles, death and birth, the ebbs and flows of time until his eyes grew heavy and he returned to the realms of dreams.

~~~~~~

Dappled lights (a quiet world au)

In one life, there was a butterfly with gleaming red wings, fluttering slowly on top of a single daisy as it ate. 

It was unaware of the other butterfly watching them, admiring the shine and artwork that was their existence in the golden lights.

They will only have two weeks together, a mere blink in the eyes of gods but for them it was forever and a day.

In this life, one was a wolf, born with a deadly grace and teeth that gleamed. The other was a lost half breed, their fur soft as snow. They ran together under the moon, eyes shining and tongue lolling, they were light and darkness side by side.

When one had to leave, the other followed, curled around their mate in their small den. 

Another, so short was the lives of mayflies, only here for a moment but they fell together.

in this one, they were oak saplings, growing together side by side. Their branches grew out as they got taller. One stopped, unable to grow anymore but the other, healthy and strong, grew the branches downward until they met, tangled together forevermore.

Just one more ( it is always just more life together, just more one moment then they would be satisfied. They never are) 

But just one more, a sheep and its guard dog, bloodied to save their beloved companion. 

But just one more, two sparrows and their wings lifted by the winds, the sun shining down on them.

Just one more, one was fire and the other was fuel.

One more, an impossible, empty sea and a life giving river met, a line marking where they kissed.

One. it was the sun, warm and golden and the other was the cool, dark earth. Life bloomed wherever the sun caress them.

More. They were void and the other was everything.

Again?

Time was a flat circle, reality was infinite and they spun and spun around, laughing as they kissed.

Again.

[heavenlycloud]

the veil~ ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ჻

one: hell froze over ‧₊˚ ⋅ ༘☆*.ﾟ

warnings: swearing

pairing: huh yunjin x aespa 5th member! fem reader

summary: y/n and yunjin watched their members have eyes glued to their phones whenever they possibly could. they both laughed and shook their heads in amusement while thinking 'couldn't be me'. just for them to both fall into the same exact category of addicted once that first message was sent.

author notes: i realized that i don't really need pov labels so i didn't put them in. but if anyone prefers them or finds they make it easier to follow along in these beginning chapters, i can keep them in (just ask it's no problem!) additionally, will be making a taglist so feel free to drop in my inbox or the comments with your @ if you'd like to be added. lastly, feedback, comments, reblogs, questions, literally anything but hateful speech is welcome and very much appreciated!

̟ ̇ ˖ಎ˚˖࿔ masterlist 𓂅୨⊹ ₊˚๑

you stared at your phone and reread the notification that appeared on the screen for what seemed like eternity. aeri looked over your shoulder and waited for you to accept the match, and when you didn’t she grew impatient. yizhuo blurted out, “for the love of-” she reached over and pressed the accept button for you. panic flooded your veins as you frantically looked back and forth between your two members, “why would you do that?! what the hell do i do now?! i wasn’t ready bro-” aeri cut you off and pointed to the typing dots that appeared on the screen followed by the first message from your new match. she stood up with yizhuo close behind her, “relax you don’t need to freak out about anything. just talk to her like you would anyone else.” as the two of them started to leave the room, yizhuo tacked on, “have fun, we’re going shopping so we’ll be back later.” more than anything you wanted to beg them to stay and help you but they were already out the door before you could think of anything to say. 

a little over an hour passed and you still had yet to reply to the mystery girl on the other end of the phone. instead you ran back to twitter, just to be welcomed by the same posts your members made not long after two of them left you alone. skimming over the posts you rolled your eyes and mumbled to yourself, "it be your own people..." [ft. minji who posts about you knowing you won't see it]

the message notification appeared once more on your screen since you hadn't dismissed it physically like you had mentally. for a moment hesitated, debating on if you really wanted to go through with this or not, after all it's not like she would know who you were if you just terminated the pair, right? the internal debate rushed through your thoughts until you just decided to text the girl back.

you tried to think of something, anything to say just so you weren't leaving this mystery girl on read leaving her to believe she was about to be rejected before it all began. except that's exactly what you were doing.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚✭・彡♡・✫.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

unbeknownst to you, yunjin was frantically posting on twitter, second guessing the first message she sent you an hour prior.

she paced around her bedroom for what felt like eternity in a futile attempt to calm herself down. yunjin chewed on her lip while debating on if she should terminate the match and try for a new one.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚✭・彡♡・✫.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

your gaze lingered on the notification for what had to be the tenth time today. a moment of hesitation, then you slid up and began typing out a simple greeting, your finger lingered over the send button. however, it was just long enough for you to press backspace and delete what you’d typed... again.

instead of actually responding, and initiating the conversation your mind was flooded with second guesses on the 'right' way to do it. after three tries of coming up with something, you circled right back to twitter. you scrolled back to your most recent post to see if any of your other friends had suggested anything helpful under your latest post...they didn't.

frustration bubbled in your stomach as you told yourself this shouldn't be this hard, yet here you were dealing with a single text as if it was life or death. eventually you just decided to answer with a single word rather than an actual conversation starter. not even a second after you hit send there were text bubbles appearing as lyra, your mystery girl began texting you.

while you sat cross legged on the couch smiling stupidly at your phone, yunjin was in her own room doing the exact same thing on her bed. conversation between the two of you flowed so easily it was like you had been friends with one another for years already. question after question she answered as you asked with you following the same model.

in the midst of typing whether she thought cereal was a soup, kazuha came into the american's room. yunjin paid no mind to the younger girl who entered with a towel in her hand as scrunched the water out of her jet black waves. kazuha started to ask , “unnie can i borrow your hairdryer mine is-” she stopped suddenly and looked at yunjin who was literally giggling and kicking her feet, too engrossed in her own texting conversation to realize kazuha standing before her.

kazuha narrowed her eyes then snatched the phone from yunjin’s hand with nearly cat-like reflexes. yunjin jumped off her bed and lunged for kazuha as she shouted, “wait give that back, zuha-yah!” the latter skimmed through the messages before letting out a laugh and handing the phone back, “i thought i was gonna see you two flirting or something, not debating on if cereal is a soup.” yunjin rolled her eyes and asked, “what did you want before you started being nosey?” kazuha pointed to the hairdryer on yunjin’s desk and grinned when the older girl passed it to her without complaining.

kazuha looked over her shoulder on her way out, “i’ll get it back to you in the morning because it’s late. goodnight unnie, thank you!” yunjin didn’t look up from her phone as she mindlessly replied, “night zuha.” upon the words she spoke did she realize the meaning behind them and she checked the time, eyes widening when she realized it was nearing midnight.

yunjin frowned as she read your next message that said you were heading to sleep because you had a practice in the morning. yunjin’s frown was replaced with a gentle smile when she saw you add on that you’d talk to her the following morning, and with that she locked her phone for the night and decided she’d get some sleep too. 

‎♡‧₊˚˘͈ᵕ˘͈‎ 彡♡ ༘*.ﾟ .·:¨༺ ʚ♡ɞ༻¨*:·.﹢࿐ ☆

taglist: @https-f4iryjin @awkwardtoafault @seungspolaroid

[onyxheartbeat]

Dear HIM/Ville Valo fans,

this is a long post but I must discuss this.

________

I came across this interview of Kat Von D from a few days ago. Before I get into my thoughts, below is a passage from her old book “Go Big or Go Home” which you may or may not have read. She wrote about Ville:

________

“I only knew his music, and I loved it on first listen. It was dark and it was beautiful. It was metal and it was poetry. It was love loaded into a gun, and I wondered about the man behind the songs.  Two years later, our paths crossed, and like the majority of the connections I’ve made in life, tattooing brought us together. Through our first tattoo sessions, we began to get to know each other. For the next few years, I just thought of him as my friend from overseas, and that was all. Then, after knowing him for six years, something changed. It could have been the wine, the music, or the moon. Most likely it was just perfect timing. Just one kiss, and he changed my world. We were both sad back then, and lost. I was depressed, having finally ended a marriage that had been doomed from the beginning. I was also dealing with the pressures of filming a television show, which was totally new to me - and drinking my way blindly through it all. His story mirrored mine, and he had been feeling just as low. We had been waiting for something to happen, for someone or something to come along and save us from ourselves. And when it suddenly seemed that that someone was each other, it took us both by surprise. We shared darkness, and doing that bought light back into our somber worlds: for once, we didn’t feel alone.He’s the reason why I wanted to write music to begin with - and learn to sing. I remember the exact moment I made up my mind about making music. It was something I felt I needed to do, not for any reason other than a way to respond to him. It didn’t matter if the songs I’d write never saw the light of day, as long as he was able to listen to my music, my message to him. He had told me to look for a package at my door step, prefacing the delivery of the contents, his new album, saying, “These are all of the things that are easier sung than said.”I knew what he meant, but never imagined that each song would be filled with direct messages to me. I put the album on, and the music rushed out of the speakers and filled my house. His voice rang all around, making it’s way to the core of my heart with every word he sang. As cryptic as those lyrics may have been for anyone else, I knew exactly what each word meant and recognized every event and place he referred to. The songs were so beautiful, I just wished so badly that he could have said everything out loud just once to me. How should I respond to something like this? Where do I even start?The first time I saw him after I got sober, he was in town working on music. We sat in my office at the shop until the late hours of the night, talking and catching up about everything - music, home, art and work. Did we talk about love? No. We constantly danced around our past instead. What happened to us? I couldn’t find the courage to ask because I was scared of the answer I already knew. We decided to draw, with pencils and paper in front of us, we sat at opposite ends of the table. He pulled my three-minute timer from one of the nearby shelves, and placed it at the center of the table. He suggested we draw each other, and I was game. With a flip of the hourglass, the grains of sand moved from one vessel to the other, and we began.Sketching these timed portraits forced us to stare at each other, making it practically impossible to focus on the drawing itself. I had almost forgotten how beautiful his face was. He has a combination of eyes, lips, and a darkness to his looks that makes him look almost otherworldly. With him, I felt like I was at the center of an orderly, tranquil, magnificent universe. For those short three minutes, there were no questions about life or purpose. It was as if we never needed any more from each other than this.Like all people, I’ve suffered from love sickness and tasted the pain of love. The theatrical director of my mind, the one who staged all these versions of him and my life with him, seemed to be unaffected by reason. I was finding myself constantly day dreaming of the past.His eyes, his hands, his crooked smile - I’d ruminate over his features. Things he said. Things he did. Things he wrote. Things he drew. Things he sang. Over and over again, I’d sift through these images and memories as if they somehow contained the answer to my prayers. But I was living with a long-age memory of him; living so far away from the present moment.If we had spoken about what we were or what we thought we were, back when we got sober, I wouldn’t have been so confused, wandering what if, and writing the rest of our story in my mind. What did I expect? For him to magically not hear about me being in a relationship? And to not be bothered by it? If only he would have asked….. I would have….. If we could have only talked….. then things would be….. if we allowed ourselves to transform our fears of being open, vulnerable, then, I’d convince myself, we would be together. I realized that none of that mattered now. If I wanted to be free of this unrequited longing, I would have to make peace with the past and finally let it go. There was no way around it. But did I want to be free of it? - and him?I listened to one of his songs the other day. Out of all the songs he wrote on that album, this one was the most direct. He sings my name in the chorus. By the time the song is over, I’ve felt a range of emotions - I’m sad but happy, frustrated but calm. He sings about how I alone bring him to a place of stillness and peace within when we are together. What a victorious feeling - to enter into a place with him where no one else has been. To be able to bring goodness to and draw it out of someone. Those sweet thoughts were interrupted by  an e-mail from him. Impeccable timing as always. It’s just a short note, letting me now he’s somewhere out there, thinking of me. He ends the message by calling me “Star Face” - his pet name for me from long ago that no one else uses. At that moment, I loathe him for it. I loathe him because I love him. Sometimes it feels like it would be so much easier to walk away from this if he’d just tell me that he hates me, that he wants nothing to do with me. But instead he calls me “Star Face.” There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s not letting go, either.‘Ultimately, it is the desire, not the desired, that we love.’The silver plane hurtled over Newfoundland, over the Labrador sea. Someone told me I might see the northern lights as I fly east and north, but I wouldn’t have noticed as I was deep in writing the letter that I had already mentally composed long before I decided to make this trip to see him over New Year’s Day. I didn’t have to edit myself this time, I knew exactly what the letter would say.I reread the note to myself before sealing the envelope. Then I drew out the first letter of his name in pencil on the front. What a beautiful letter it was, probably my favorite out of the entire alphabet. A letter I was so used to writing myself. With ease the swirls and curves of each arch seemed to flow from my heart, my mind’s eye, drawn in and through my arms to my hands, releasing themselves onto the pale ivory paper envelope. My plane landed soon after.I had missed this country, I had missed him, too. I wondered how time had treated him ,for it had been a few years since I had last seen him. I wondered if I still had the ability to quiet his heart when he was feeling manic. He always said I had a way of doing that when I was near. And I wondered if he even needed me in that way anymore.When we met up, he looked just as beautiful as the day we saw each other for the first time, almost ten years before. And as if no time had passed, we started right where we left off - hours flew by in the comfort of each other’s presence. Talking. Catching up.He asked if I was getting sleepy, and my attempt at concealing the tiredness was transparent. I looked at the clock; maybe it was the jet lag or the clock hands pointing to midnight, but I knew it was time to say good-bye. Reluctantly, we both stood up and tried our best to part ways. As good as it felt to be near him again, I gave him the letter I had written letting him know that I was letting the nation of us go. He took the sealed envelope, and then I watched him walk away for what I assumed would be the last time.My heart didn’t belong locked up in a tower across the ocean from my home. It belonged in my chest, beating, living, feeling, sometimes hurting, but always loving. I deserved to be free, and understanding and needing that more than a dream, I was finally able to let him go.”

_________

Now, let me start by saying, I’ve never understood this and I still don’t. I’ve had that passage saved in my drafts for years because I keep almost anything pertaining to Ville. 

I’ve been a HIM fan since I was about 15 years old, and have followed Ville’s life and work closely. The friendship between them was always apparent to HIM fans in those days, because we saw her in photos with the band often. I used to watch Miami Ink and LA Ink as regularly as pretty much anyone in those days, and I remember when this particular passage of her book was brought to light, the HIM fan base read it and we all had our thoughts. We were all aware of Screamworks being written about Kat (it’s obvious in the lyrics of the album) even though Ville never specifically said Kat’s name when asked about it in interviews.

I remember being baffled back when we as HIM fans discovered this passage from the book. I couldn’t imagine not making that relationship work if it was true love. I’m a bit biased because I adore Ville and he’s like a dream to me, but I just couldn’t understand it. It seemed like she took the relationship for granted or she didn’t love him enough to make it work; but I digress. I get it; love and relationships are complex.

Still, flash forward to this recent interview (the screenshot), she says it was unrequited love, and I’m still not understanding it. Why release all the songs now? Why didn’t she make it work if it was true love? Who is she trying to say was the one not reciprocating (as the word “unrequited” suggests) in the relationship? I don’t understand any of it. More than anything, I’ve had so many questions that I wish I could ask Ville about it all because he only spoke briefly about it all, and it was always rather cryptic. 

I’m only writing this as a HIM fan, and because I love Ville and his lyrics on Screamworks so, so much (it’s an extremely underrated album in the HIM discography, in my opinion) so I’m letting any fellow HIM lovers know she wrote an album in response to it, in case you’re interested. I haven’t followed Kat or her work in many years, so I don’t know what to make of all this, but it’s always been extremely apparent to me when listening to Screamworks that a lot of heart went into it and even pain, not that his lyrics on other albums aren’t like that too, but I felt it more on Screamworks. I feel that Ville was the one who was truly heartbroken.

You all probably know from following my blog that I’m obsessed with love and unrequited love. Any romantic stories, bittersweet letters, heartbreak, longing etc. is just my favorite thing in the world so please excuse the long post, haha.

[escapewriter]

Lover

pairing : vernon x reader

synopsis : love makes you do crazy things, except this wasn’t really crazy for him. he’s just a man in love who’s willing to do it all for you.

genre : fluff, like a lot of fluff, humor

word count : 3.6k

warnings : none

posted : 2/17/21

a/n : ty ty to @woozisnoots for beta reading. i really needed it or it would’ve sounded so awkward so tysm alex <3 and HAPPY VERNON AND SEOKMIN DAYYYY. tell me why this took me almost a month to write even though its like... eh. neway, I HOPE YALL ENJOY, it has that princess and the frog vibe.

TAGLIST : @vibecheckvernon @beomiebear5 @lightoflife @skylions-den @noniesgirl @woozisnoots

won’t let me tag : @pandora1834

send me an ask/dm if you would like to be on the taglist

pieces of love masterlist // playlist // main masterlist

‘Letter 355’ was written in big letters on the front of the envelope. You sat on the bed as you tore the sealed flap open. Vernon has been writing you small notes ever since your 6th year anniversary. This is the first real letter you’ve gotten because before, it was simple post-it notes, and as your 7th year together approaches, you can’t help but wonder what he has planned this time.

You took out the paper, unfolded it and scanned his messy handwriting. You smiled as your fingertips touched the ink on the paper. You began to read:

Ma Belle,

I hope you will have a wonderful day today. Are you surprised you’re getting a letter instead of a post-it note? You probably are lol. Anyway, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the messy handwriting, I had to leave early this morning and didn’t have time to write neatly, or spell correctly so if you see some typos, you didn’t (cue the clown emoji).

Also, a heads up, I may be returning home late due to the guys wanting to hang out, so if you need me, call me. And yes, I’ll text you if I have to stay at one of their apartments and I’ll text you when I leave. I know the drill ;)

Please be safe today, and you know MY drill don’t you? It’s the exact same thing I said above, HA! So, text me when you leave the house and when you arrive at work. I can’t wait to see you again (even though we live together). I love you Ma Belle. Just 10 more days!

Love, Vernon

You smiled at the nickname he had given you as you felt the familiar rush of fireworks erupt in your stomach, hugging the letter close to your chest. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have a man like Vernon. He took time out of his day for almost a year just to write you a letter every morning so you could wake up happy. He is an absolute crazy man for doing this.

You folded up the letter and carefully placed it back in the envelope. You went to your desk, grabbing the photobook on the shelf and opened it, seeing where you kept all his notes for the past year. You flipped to a page and inserted the letter in an empty slot. You closed the book and placed it on the shelf once more, looking at it as you thought about how he was capable of doing something like this for a whole year, who knows what he has planned for your anniversary.

~

Vernon has a lot planned actually. He is going to keep writing you letters every morning before he goes to work, but on the day of your anniversary, it’s going to be a little different and he couldn’t wait for that day to come.

He walked alone, glancing into the stores that he passed as he waited for the call. He turned around and began to head back to where he came from before, feeling the buzzing of his phone. He looked at the screen and answered.

“Hey Shua, are you guys done?” He bit his lower lip a bit, hoping they got what he had asked for. He heard his friend sigh on the other end of the line.

“Hell yeah we got it.” Letting out a breath of relief, he nodded as he listened to Joshua tell him to return back to the car so they could go and eat. Hanging up, he walked quickly back to meet up with his friends.

He could not wait for the day to come.

//

You saw ‘Letter 360’ taped to the refrigerator when you reached the kitchen to prepare yourself breakfast. You had only received small notes like before ever since ‘Letter 355’, so you were a bit taken aback because you simply thought that he wrote a long letter due to his busy schedule that day. You weren’t sure what to expect of this though as he told you the night prior that he would be home before dinner.

You tore the flap of the envelope and took out the paper, quickly unfolding it as you began to read his messy handwriting:

Ma Belle,

Did you sleep well last night? I hope so because then I’ll feel bad for not being able to be there with you to make you feel better :( But!!! I hope this will make your morning a bit brighter if it wasn’t already. Inside the microwave are some pancakes that I made Mingyu bring for me because I would’ve burnt them. But they’re probably cold so you have to heat it up. There were 4 in total but I was hungry and ate one hehe.

Anyway, I’ll see you in a few hours, Ma Belle. Stay safe at work and text me! I love you!

Love, Vernon

You felt the warmth creep up in your chest as you grinned, rereading the letter again. Although this made you incredibly happy, you couldn’t help but think about what you could do better for Vernon in this relationship. You never want him to feel as if he was the only one putting effort.

After making a quick decision, you put the letter back in the envelope and brought it to your room, placing it in an empty slot of the photobook. You went back out to the kitchen and heated up the pancakes Vernon had mentioned, deciding that you will make a small trip to the store after having breakfast.

~

Unknowingly, you walked down the same path Vernon had the day he went out with his friends secretly without telling you. You passed multiple stores as you racked your brain for some sort of idea on what to get him. You already had your anniversary gift planned out for him, but that’s a secret that you have been keeping from him since day one. You just hope he doesn’t go searching for the photobook.

You walked slowly, glancing into stores to get some sort of idea before stopping in front of a jewelry store. You hesitated knowing that Vernon never wanted you to spend so much money on him, but look at where you are. You decide to tell him it’s an anniversary gift instead of just giving it to him tonight so that way he wouldn’t get mad at you. Yeah, that’s a better plan.

As you enter the store, your eyes immediately go to the locked glass cases of beautiful jewelry. Maybe you should’ve thought this through because you had no idea what to get him. Looks like guessing is the best bet for you.

//

You made it home from work just before Vernon got home. Quickly, you went to your room and took the box out of the bag and placed it behind the photobook. You disposed of the bag, making sure that Vernon wouldn’t spot any evidence of the fact that you spent a lot of money on him.

You were now in the kitchen, looking to prepare something for dinner before the front door opened with your boyfriend coming in with bags in his hand. You smiled and quickly met him at the door, grabbing a few bags before kissing his cheek.

“You bought dinner? I was planning to make something for you.” He smiled warmly and led you to the dining room, placing the bags on the table. He quickly kissed your cheek before holding one of your hands.

“Ma Belle~” The teasing sound of his voice echoed in your ears as you smiled widely, shying away a bit before you felt the tips of his fingers move your head to face his again, “You don’t have to cook for me tonight. Let’s just relax and enjoy the food I bought, how does that sound?” You stared into his hypnotizing eyes, the warmth in your chest rising as you nodded your head with a smile.

“Okay! Let's get some plates!”

//

You woke up to an empty bed, confused as to why Vernon wasn’t next to you. Sitting up straight, you looked at your night stand, searching for the familiar post-it note or envelope. You thought that maybe it was something similar to the letter 5 days ago where you found it taped to the fridge.

You stretched out your arms, yawning in the process as you heard your phone buzz on the table. Unplugging it, you opened your messages and spotted a familiar name. Boo Seungkwan.

‘You home?’ You didn’t know why he was texting you at this time, he was usually asleep. And he knows that it’s your anniversary with Vernon today, so you were confused as to why he was asking if you were home.

‘No. I’m with Vernon.’ Obviously you lied to try and get out of any sort of event he may have planned just so you can eat a small breakfast and get ready for the day. You just have to find Vernon’s note.

‘Bullshit. I’m with Vernon right now.’ Your eyes widened, a scowl appearing on your face as you questioned why Vernon was with Seungkwan instead of you. ‘Why are you with Vernon? Where are you guys?’

On the other side of the phone, Seungkwan was panicking. He knew that you weren’t with Vernon because Vernon was with Joshua setting up everything for your anniversary.

He looked around the room, thinking of an answer to come up with before Chan walked in, “Seungkwan? What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be distracting them for Vernon?” He tossed his phone to the younger, eyes filled with fear and uneasiness. Chan read the messages and laughed, “Vernon will kill you if you don’t pull this off. Good luck!” Seungkwan groaned as he decided to just show up at your home and keep you occupied.

You stared at the messages, expecting him to answer but received nothing. You sighed and just locked your phone, mind now set on looking for the letter. Every step you took to look into a room, your fingers were crossed in hopes that you would find any sort of evidence that Vernon has left for you. Plopping onto the couch, you thought that maybe he just forgot to write today, but it didn’t make sense since he wrote everyday for a whole year without forgetting. Even in previous letters, he would count down the days until it was your anniversary. It just didn’t make any sense.

You heard the doorbell ring, an ounce of hope in your heart as you thought that it could be Vernon. He has a key to the house. You sighed and got up from the couch as you went to the front door, unlocking it with a click and opening it.

Your eyes met Seungkwan’s and it immediately turned into a glare. “I thought you were with Vernon, hm?” He grinned sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck.

“I lied.”

“I can see that.” You stepped to the side, making way for him to enter your house. You watched him sit on the couch as you closed the door and locked it. “What are you doing here, Seungkwan?”

“Uhm— Did you eat breakfast?” You saw his hands wipe down against his jeans, a nervous habit he had that you picked up on throughout your years of friendship.

“No I didn’t. And you avoided my question—”

“You haven’t eaten?” He stood up abruptly, determined to keep you distracted until lunch time, “Come on, lets cook some breakfast for you!” He turned towards the kitchen with you following closely after him after rolling your eyes and just letting it slide, thinking that maybe Vernon put him up to this.

//

Seungkwan sighed in content after finishing up his food, his eyes moving to meet your hard ones. “Seungkwan,” His eyes went to look around the room, just as long as they weren’t at you, “Seungkwan, stop avoiding eye contact.” He looked back at you, his lips pursed and throat feeling dry. “I have so many questions, but I won’t even bother at this point.” You shook your head and took your plate and his, bringing it to the sink and began to wash them.

As you were washing, you heard your name fall from his lips, “I can wash them, you have to go get ready.” Your head shot up, eyes looking to the side but your head staying in place.

“Get ready how? Where are we going?”

Seungkwan got up from his seat and stood next to you, “Don’t play dumb. Do you want your letter or not?” Your eyes lit up, nodding as you turned off the water and quickly went into your room to wash up and get ready.

“Thank you Seungkwan!”

//

You sat in the car with the radio gently playing in the background. A comfortable silence fell upon you and Seungkwan, who was in the driver's seat. You remembered to bring your gift as you looked at the large bag sitting on the floor between your legs. You checked the time on your phone, seeing that it was almost lunch.

“Wow, if Vernon planned a lunch, I’m glad you ate most of the breakfast food.” You out the window, giggling with Seungkwan.

“That was the whole point of me eating all the food. I had to keep you busy for a few more hours.”

You sighed and nodded your head in understanding, turning your head to look at the side of his face, “Where are we headed to anyway?”

He glanced away from the road to look at you for a split second before lifting up his hand, his pointer finger placed on his lips as he made a ‘shh’ sound. “It’s a secret.”

“Well can you tell me if it’s far? I kind of want to take a nap.”

“Go for it, but don’t get mad when I wake you up.”

//

Your eyes fluttered, feeling the cool breeze against your skin as goosebumps rose. You opened your eyes, seeing your boyfriend standing next to you with the car door open. He flashed his gummy smile, holding his hand out for you to take, “Ma Belle~”

You looked down at the floor as you placed your hand in his, stepping out of the car with your bag and present in hand. “Where have you been Vernon Chwe?”

You smiled cheekily at him to which he shrugged with a teasing smile, “I’ve been doing things.”

You began to smile, looking at your interlocked fingers as he led you to a familiar area. You scanned the place, seeing the light of the sun reflect off the little lake that you knew all too well. Your hand tightened in his grasp causing him to stop walking and to turn to look at you, “What’s wrong?” You pouted, puppy eyes boring into his as he smiled softly.

“You took me here? I thought this place became private property and people weren’t allowed to be here.” He laughed softly and brought up his hand, placing his pointer finger against his lips.

“Shhh, we’re not.” Your eyes widened as you hit him with your bag and he laughed, “I’m kidding, I talked to the owner and they were fine with it, come on, let’s go.”

He brought you over to a picnic setup, the tall tree providing you shade that can cool your down from the scorching sun. You both sat down on the blanket, looking out to the lake with the mini table in between. You sighed in content, your eyes never leaving the shining lake, “Vernon this is incredible. I’m so happy you were able to get us in here.” You looked over at your boyfriend, a smirk on his face as he held up the missing letter.

“I know you’ve been wondering where the final letter was but I don’t know if I want to give it to you just yet.” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “You have to eat with me first and then I’ll give you the letter, okay?” You smiled and nodded your head happily, the thought of what could possibly be in the letter consumes your mind.

//

You finished your food with a toss of your napkin to the plate, your eyes immediately going to Vernon who was laughing softly. “I know what you’re going to ask, but first let me open my gift, please?” He pouted in which you rolled your eyes in response.

“Fine.”

You handed over the bag, biting your lip out of a nervous habit, watching him take out the tissue paper and spotting the box and photobook. He took out the photobook, looking at you with an unsure expression before opening it. Raising his eyebrows, he found every note he has written to you, and next to it is a note you have written in response.

He took a deep breath, flipping through all the pages, trying to be as slow as possible just to tease you, but no luck, “Vernon you can read it at home.” You whined next to him as he slightly glared at you,

“Hey, I just want to appreciate you.” Still, he listened and put the photobook back in the bag and then took out the box. He opened the top carefully and stared at the piece of jewelry laying inside.

He head lolled to look at you, another pout on his lips, “I told you not to buy me anything expensive.”

You giggled and nodded your head towards the bracelet, “Dig a little deeper Vernon,” He rolled his eyes at your remark of quoting the song before taking out the chain. He turned the small heart-shaped charm over and found your name next to the words ‘Your Evangeline’ engraved in it.

His grip on the chain loosened as he handed it to you, holding out his arm, “Put it on for me?” Quickly you wrapped it around his wrist and locked it in place, beaming with happiness. “I love this, I just— it’s beautiful.”

“Can I read the letter now?” He sighed in defeat as he failed to stall everything a little while longer.

“Way to ruin the sentimental mood.” He handed you the letter, watching you bounce in excitement as you prepared to rip it open.

“Wait! Read it up there, next to the lake. Pretend I’m not here, like how you would read any letter in the morning, okay?” You nodded standing up and scurried over to the lake, thinking about how weird it was that he asked you to read it at this spot. The thought left your mind the second your eyes scanned ‘Letter 365’. Your heart pounded in your ears as you ripped the flap open and pulled out the paper. You began to read:

Ma Belle,

Happy 7th year Anniversary! Can you believe it has been seven years we’ve been together? It feels so amazing. I’m sorry you had to read this through a letter, but I feel like writing it out conveyed my feelings better than when I just wing it. So, I hope you prepare yourself because this is going to be a ride full of cheese and cringe.

I remember our first date here. It was very cheesy and seemed too extravagant for a first date, but we have known each other for a few months before I asked you out, so I call it a success. Anyway, I’ll never forget the look on your face when you saw the little fairy lights light up just at the snap of my finger. You said it looked like fireflies and reminded you of Princess and the Frog. Anyway, getting back to the point, the point is, this little lake holds a place in my heart because it was all those months of me silently pining after you to finally be able to take you here, it made me realize that I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

Oh! Which reminds me of our first here, when we danced to the soundtrack of the movie. It’s random, I know but I don’t think you remember that. You probably won’t remember me proposing to you either, would you? Turn around Ma Belle :)

You slowly turned around, the blanket and picnic table gone, all that’s left in front of you is Vernon down on one knee holding up a small box displaying a beautiful ring. The arm holding the letter drops, your free hand coming up to slightly cover your mouth now agape. From his shaky hands to his beaming smile, the love you had for the man in front of you intensified.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, “So, do you remember now?” The water in your eyes that have been threatening to spill finally let go as you nodded your head, “Ma Belle~” That damn grin on his face made your knees shake, “Will you be my Evangeline and marry me?” Your legs collapsed, your knees hitting the grass as you hugged Vernon tightly, whispering ‘Yes’ into his ear.

The amount of love you felt in your heart took over as you cried silently against him. He pulled away, laughing softly as he wiped your tears and brought your hand up, slipping the ring onto your ring finger. “Hansol Vernon Chwe, no wonder you wanted to open my gift first.”

He shrugged, looking into your eyes with that same teary smile before leaning in and placing a soft yet meaningful kiss on your lips. In that magical moment, you knew that this is all for you; he is all for you and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[jamilelucato]

Muggle [F.W.]

*gif not mine

Pairing: Fred Weasley x muggle!Dursley!reader

Request: (anonymous) Could you do a imagine where the reader is a dursley aka Harry’s cousin. But when Fred and reader meet they don’t know, and they fall in love since she knows about magic. But she’s a muggle of course. So when Fred takes her to meet the family Harry’s so shocked. Maybe they use to love each other and trust each other like siblings but when he discovered he was a wizard they fall apart. Because Harry has other things going on. And maybe after forth year, they completely stoped talking and they both regret it. So when they see each other it hurts both of them, but they end up making up.

Summary: y/N Dursley is tired of being away from Harry because of her parents because he’s a wizard and because he stopped reaching out. She starts going after her cousin herself and she has the help of the Weasleys to do so.

Words: +6,3k

A/N: Had no idea where this was going until I wrote it. Hope you all like it; tried to keep it as coherent to the request as I could. There’s a scene where it was supposed to be Harry and y/N but I thought it would make more sense if it was other character speaking (you know it when you see it).

Harry Potter Masterlist ||  Musical Hogwarts Series

___

“Wait up, girls. I think I might know these guys,” she says just when her friends’ laughs are dying out.

She takes one last look to her back, hoping nobody will notice she’s checking out the tall and red-haired boys.

“Really? From where?” asks one of the friends in a whisper.

But y/N ignores the question. She takes one last sip from coffee and rush to catch the boys before they leave the place.

“Hey, you two!” she calls out after noticing she’s never going to catch them — one of their steps equals three of hers.

One of them looks at her first, tilting his head confused. The other one finally turns too, but he seems less intrigued than his twin.

“Are you... Weasleys?” she says when she gets close enough to them and whispers the last name as if it could be a curse-word or something. It was definitely prohibited in her household.

The twins exchanged looks, confused. They pretend to not recognize her — because they sure can’t remember from where they know her. She still doesn’t know why she decided to call them out anyway.

“Two of them, yes,” one of the boys answered, taking his time to mess with his red hair. The movement certainly showed some charm. “Why?”

She gulps — she was not expecting to be asked. However, the second twin, silently until now, decides to speak up.

“Aren’t you one of Harry’s cousins?”

She shakes her head yes, pressing her lips together at the same time. Remembering to have good manners, she offers them her hand.

“It’s y/N Dursley, actually.”

“Sure I presumed your name wasn’t ‘Harry’s cousin’,” giggled the twin that shook your hand first. He had a firm grip and a welcomed warm hand. He took his time with her hand, and for a moment she thought he wasn’t going to let it go. “I’m Fred, by the way,” he smiled, finally freeing her hand.

The other twin quickly took your hand in his as soon as you were free.

“I’m George.”

“I remember you two. Left my brother with a big purple tong just a couple of weeks ago,” she commented, trying to diffuse the tension.

They exchanged looks, scared if the right reaction was to apologize or to laugh. It sure was rather fun watching the fatty get what he deserved for years of bad things to Harry.

Y/N noticed her comment had the wrong reaction and tried again. “It’s fine, you can laugh. He sure deserved it.”

The one who presented himself as Fred chuckled, more because of her face than because of her brother. However, the one said to be George remained in silence.

She gulped, noticing the awkward situation.

“Well, I just stopped you two because I wanted to know... about Harry,” she says with an anxious tone. Talking about Harry was always a hard thing — with her parents or with his friends. “I sometimes write him letters, you see — not that he replies — but he never shared your family’s address, and I’ve been... Rambling,” she chuckled, pressing a finger in front of her lips. “Sorry for the non-stop talk. I want to know if Harry’s okay, that’s it.”

George steps towards her but stops when he realized his twin had done the same and was faster to speak up.

“Harry’s perfectly okay,” says Fred with a smile that showed no teeth.

“He’s been well-taken care of,” added George. “Did your parents want to know?”

“Who? Petunia and Vernon?” she asks before burst into laughter. The idea that her parents could be worried about Harry was absurd. “No — it’s me who wanted to know.”

She breaths hard before stepping backwards, away from the boys. She’s starting to feel blue, and she doesn’t want them to see her in that way.

“Well, anyway... thank you, boys, for telling me. I was worried, and then I recognized your red-heads...” her voice died out. She raised her head and stared at the twin said to be Fred. “What were you doing here? Harry said wizards don’t hang in ‘munnel’ places.”

She had a great point.

“It’s ‘muggle’, dear,” George corrected y/N trying to hold his laugh.

“And we generally don’t. We have a friend, you see, muggle-born, that tells us this place has the best coffee in the world,” Fred raises his own cup of coffee to go. “We decided to see if it was true.”

“Don’t tell our parents,” chuckled George.

“Nor our little sister,” added Fred and they both started laughing at their particular joke.

Silence fell upon the three of them again. Y/N looked from George to Fred, taking her time to look at that last one. Somehow, he had captured her attention, and it wasn’t just today. Since the day they came to Harry’s rescue a couple of years ago — of course, she knew about the flying car, her window gave her a great view of the three red-heads inside it —, y/N has been fascinated with the family. She wished she had been born a witch, like Harry. Maybe he would stop avoiding her if they were equals.

She turned her face back to take a look at the coffee shop before facing the twins again.

“Sorry, boys, gotta go. Can’t let my own coffee run cold,” she smiled sympathetically. “Tell Harry to write to me, would you?”

“Sure,” answered Fred promptly.

“Thank you,” she replied and started walking away as slow as she could. That was the closest she had ever been to real wizards besides Harry, and she actually managed to keep a conversation! That was new, because last time those two same boys were in her living room, she blushed, frowned and hid behind a pillow. And that had happened just a couple of weeks ago!

“Hey! Wait!” a male voice shouted from behind her. She was turning while one of the twins was running towards her. She presumed it was Fred, although she couldn’t be sure — they were wearing the same clothes.

“What is it?” she asked, stopping her tracks so she could wait for him to reach her.

“I can give you our address. Would be easier to get a reply from Harry if you were to be the one to contact him,” he suggested, shrugging as if he didn’t care if she took the address or not. “Muggle’s post-men generally pass through our house.”

She shook her head yes non-stop, excited for the niceness of the boy.

“Here, do you have a...” his voice died before finishing the question because he had no idea what the muggles used to write things down. But he got a piece of paper anyway — it was the paper that surrounded his coffee to make it easy to hold.

“A pen?” she completed his phrase, chuckling. Then, getting one pen out of her pocket, she continued, “Always care one with me. Quite useful.”

“Pen,” he whispered, not to her, but to test the word in his accent.

She offered the thing to him. He stared at it as if it was magical.

“Never seen one, have you?” she asked, giggling with joy in her heart, but he was already writing down the address.

Fred tried to give her both the paper and the pen, but the last one she did not accept back.

“Take it; you’ll like it more than I do,” she explained when he looked at her, confused.

“Thank you,” he said, genuinely grateful, but she said nothing, and slowly he walked away, playing with the pen with his fingers. His twin met him half-way, and soon they were gone from her sight.

*** 

She had written to Harry. Twice, actually, and none of those times she got a reply. The first letter she sent to the address Fred gave her and the second one she sent to his school. It was funny because, although Harry Potter seemed in no mood to talk to her, his owl always showed up from time to time in y/N’s window, as if she waited for her to have something for Harry. And y/N usually had.

She was in the middle of her own classes in the public school, but she wasn’t paying attention to the History class. Frankly, she already knew what the teacher was teaching.

Inside her notebook, laid Fred’s note with his house’s address. She didn’t exactly know why she carried it around. Perhaps it meant she knew the address of a hot boy; perhaps it meant she knew a place only wizards lived. Whatever it was, she couldn’t stop staring at it and rereading it all over again.

It also had a kind of joke written on it. Fred didn’t give his real name to the waitperson, and, at first, she thought he was just scared of his name being too wizard-like. But it really wasn’t. His name was completely okay. Different from the one he actually gave the waitress — that one was a bit stupid.

Behind the address to the Weasleys, a single name was written: Merlin.

It took her a couple of minutes to remember where she knew that name from, and then she felt completely dull for not immediately getting it.

Merlin was King Arthur’s advisor and a powerful wizard, at least, that was the children books told her when younger.

Perhaps Merlin was real to them. Oh my God, Merlin was definitely real to them!

She tried once more to pay attention to the class instead of the note she had memorized, but it was worthless. When the bell announced she was free to go home, she felt some sort of relief. Part of her was thinking of writing a letter to the address she had, only this time it wasn’t going to be to Harry.

But that was stupid, right?

She didn’t have much time to think because as soon as she got home, one letter already waited for her.

“This came for you today,” said her brother in a disgusted tone.

She took the letter from his hands, desperate to see what was it about. Opening it up, she read:

Dear y/N Dursley,

This is Molly Weasley, the mother of Harry’s best friend, Ron. I’m writing to you because I’d figured you would like to come with me to Hogwarts, to watch Harry’s thrid task at the Triwizard Tournament. I’m sure by now you know all about it, but maybe your parents can’t come because of their muggle jobs — I don’t really know how it works — but perhaps you and your younger brother would like to come.

Please, write me back with a reply as soon as possible.

With love, 

Molly Weasley.

Y/N couldn’t believe her eyes. She read it at least twice before putting her backpack on the floor. Dudley stared at her suspiciously, he couldn’t understand what the letter was about or who was it from.

When she was sure she understood every word Mrs Weasley wrote, y/N rushed to the kitchen where she knew she’d find at least one of her parents. And there her mother was.

“Harry’s a participant in some Tournament?” she asked loudly.

Her mom looked up from the dough she was preparing, with an uptight look in her face. She didn’t like her kids screaming.

“Huh?!?” y/N threw the letter to her mom as if showing evidence. “And we were invited to watch? Never cared to mention, did you?”

Her mom got the paper and took her time to read it.

“What is this woman insinuating? That you are going with her to that wizarding place?” Petunia asked in a mocking tone before tossing the letter to the trashcan, but not before she tore it in pieces.

“Oh, I’m going!” you shouted. “Harry needs us, needs me.”

Petunia gave her a challenging look. She didn’t know y/N had memorized the Weasley’s address and therefore would not need to get the torn to pieces letter.

Y/N got a paper from her school bag and wrote a reply, saying yes she would go, any day that was. She also mentioned she knew nothing about the Tournament so if Mrs Weasley could explain, she’d like that very much.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Petunia asked from behind her daughter. Dudley watched excitedly.

“Replying,” she simply said. But now that it was written, what would she do? Fred Weasley had mentioned it could take days before a muggle post-man would pass their house... 

The answer didn’t need to be given. As if she knew and she waited, Harry’s owl came flying through the kitchen window and stopped right over the table, in front of y/N.

“Take this to the Weasleys, would you?” she said, giving the note to the owl, who didn’t wait for Petunia’s approval to leave the place.

“I can’t believe it! Your father wouldn’t like this, young lady!” her mom frowned.

“It doesn’t really matter to me. Now, how many letters has Hogwarts been delivering here about Harry that you guys haven’t told me about?” she retorted, getting up.

Her mom opened her mouth to speak, but she didn’t let her.

“Don’t say it doesn’t matter! Harry’s your nephew, my cousin! The only one I have!” she exploded, letting the anger domain. “I bet that if those letters invited you to study there, you’d have said yes! I bet you’d have gone!”

She walked away, but her mom fetched her by the arm.

“Young lady!” she shouted angrily, but y/N didn’t care.

“Wouldn’t you, huh? Or would you have gone?” she turned her face to see her mom, but the woman said nothing. She seemed hurt, which meant y/N had won. “Because I know I would. God knows I’d give anything to be out of here!”

And with that, Petunia let her go to her room.

***

Mrs Weasley and a pretty man named Bill Weasley appeared in front of her house in Privet Drive. They had a car with them — a flying one — and it was with that they were taking y/N to Hogwarts.

Y/N had counted hours to that moment. She even accepted Mrs Wealsey hug with a tight embrace, so thrilled she was.

Bill was the one driving while y/N was sitting in the back, but the trip was not awkward at all. Mrs Weasley asked y/N every possible question, and for once, y/N was glad someone could finally see her point of view about Harry and the wizards.

“I love Harry, I do. It’s just, he kinda left me behind with this thing of being a wizard, you know,” she said, hoping Mrs Weasley would understand her.

Bill seemed to get y/N’s point rather quickly, and she was glad for it. The Weasleys seemed so pleasant, all of them. And very handsome too, may she add.

“So, did Harry’s owl have any trouble finding you?” you asked when Mrs Wealsey’s questions seemed to have ended.

The woman exchanged looks with her son before gulping. Only then she answered:

“Well, actually, dear, I think Hedwig committed a mistake, even though that owl is incredibly good...” y/N raised a brow while listening. “You see, she delivered your letter to Fred and George at Hogwarts. They were the ones who sent the letter to me.”

Y/N could feel her facing frowning, the face of shock and confusion. She thought she had been specific to the owl, but I guess saying “the Weasleys” can mean a nine different people and there was no way the animal could know.

Bill, however, misunderstood your face.

“Fred and George are the twins, I don’t know you’ve met them...” he said, but his mom seemed to have a different opinion about the last part — Molly knew y/N remembered her twins, because they told her so, and, frankly, Molly had never seen Fred give a muggle so many compliments.

“Oh, I’ve met them,” y/N sighed, remembering that day so many days ago. She could visualize it as if it was happening right in front of her.

The flying car made a delightful trip. Molly told y/N that they usually never used it, but since they were caring a muggle, that was the only way they could take her to Hogwarts. Mrs Weasley informed that she made her husband upgrade it to make it safer.

“And he wants you to tell your experience with it, as a muggle,” continued the woman. She was nice but being called a muggle so many times was beginning to hurt.

When she finally arrived at Hogwarts, y/N was kind of disappointed. Is this it? An abandoned, ruined castle?

Bill noticed her look. “Don’t let it fool you. The castle is beautiful; it’s just that, from outside, muggles can’t see it,” there it was again, the little word y/N started to hate.

They walked in, and y/N finally saw what he meant. Hogwarts was more than beautiful — it was delightful, enchanted, unique.

That day y/N met so many wizards, she was sure that she would remember it as if the best day of her life. There were wizards from other places in Europe today as well. Some of them were Professors, some of them were parents of the other champions.

Now, she knew everything about the Tournament because Molly Weasley sent her — along with instructions of the day — a copy of a book about the competition and she spent the three whole nights reading it.

She asked if she could keep the book — a memory that wizards existed if Harry decided after today to cut relations with y/N — and Molly said she had bought it just for her.

They waited a bit before Harry finally walked in the room they were at. They were close to the fireplace, and Harry walked towards them. He didn’t seem to have noticed y/n was there too.

“Surprise!” Mrs Weasley smiled broadly and then she kissed him in the cheek.

“You all right?” said Bill, noticing Harry had finally seen his cousin.

Harry Potter stayed silently, and it seemed as if all the other families were watching the two interact. Harry loved her too, but he also knew her. She was always a fantasy lover, she would have loved to be a witch. Harry was just scared his own enthusiasm could hurt y/N.

“You came,” he said, simply.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Harry,” she smiled before ignoring her shame and pulling Harry to a hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t write much this year, I didn’t know about the Tournament,” she whispered in his ear while her tears fell.

Harry was more than a cousin, sometimes more than a brother. Y/N was just a couple of years older, but she saw him as her little boy. She had to raise him anyway because her mom couldn’t care to do it.

“I’m so sorry, y/N,” he whispered back, not letting her go yet. “I shouldn‘t have...”

“Shh..” she interrupted him, finally pushing him a bit away just to see his beautiful eyes. “It’s okay. Nobody wants to be friends with the muggle.”

She shrugged, hoping it would make Harry feel better, but it had the opposite result. She, however, didn’t let him say anything else.

Bill asked Harry questions about the castle — if it was still the same — and Molly joined in, telling her own experiences. Y/N had none, so she stayed in silence, hearing.

“Fancy giving us a tour, Harry?” Bill asked, and she knew he was doing it for her. It made her like the Weasleys a bit more.

“Yeah, okay,” agreed on Harry. 

After a few minutes of walking — the castle was enormous — a couple of other red-head found the four of them.

“Fred, George, what are you doing here?” asked Bill, pulling them to a short hug. Fred barely cared — he had his eyes locked on you.

“Paying a visit,” said Fred.

“We never see the family,” added George and Harry laughed.

They said hi to y/N too, but she replied blushing.

“I believe you two are gonna follow us in the tour,” said Mrs Weasley, raising a brow towards the oldest twin.

“Why not, mum?” said Fred, smiling. 

Harry just shrugged and continued guiding the group around. Fred and George always added information to Harry’s description — only to your ears because they were scared of their mother’s opinion — such as which prank they had done in each place, and where were the secret passages. Y/N like the company; it made her feel wanted.

They all stopped at the Great Hall, where they sat down at the Gryffindor’s table, as Harry explained to y/N.

“Oh, I’d like to sit at the green table,” y/N commented, pointing to it. 

Harry widened his eyes while Fred and George came to y/N’s rescue.

“No, you wouldn’t,” said Fred. But he said nothing more to explain what could possibly be wrong with that table.

The other Weasleys that still attended the school and a girl named Hermione Granger also sat next to them while they ate. They all seemed excited with each other, talking about all things that sounded really cool but you had no idea of what it meant.

The tour continued after eating, and y/N loved every moment of it. She was sure she’d love to study there. Would she and Harry be housemates? — oh, yeah, the Weasley girl explained to y/N why they sat at the red table instead of the green one.

Fred and George, surprisingly, followed Harry, Bill, their mom and y/N around all day. Something told y/N they were there for her, but her insecurity never let her be sure.

They were always making jokes and — when their mom wasn’t looking — they’d cast sparkling spells just to see her surprised and amused face.

By the time they had to go back to the Great Hall for the evening feast, y/N had no more doubts that it had been her favourite day of her life. She would have to write it down in a diary or something. For one day, she was just like Harry. For one day, she was a witch.

And that was all she ever wanted.

Then, it all happened.

They called Harry to the task, and they all left to watch. Y/N said her good luck to her cousin and watched him disappear inside the maze. She was uptight during the whole thing. Something didn’t seem right. Was a school suppose to send students inside a make in the middle of the night in an activity that could kill them?

Maybe being a muggle had its perks.

“He’s taking too long, isn’t he?” y/N asked Fred, the twin sat down to her left.

“I can’t tell. Never seen a Tournament before,” he answered.

“But what about the other tasks? Where those this long?”

”No,” sighed Fred.

He noticed she was apprehensive, and he wanted to do something about it. George, who was sitting at y/N’s other side, raised just one hand high enough for Fred to see and he understood.

“Take it,” he offered his hand to her, “you can squeeze it if you are too frightened.”

She looked to the hand and back at him. Such a pretty boy... why would he be nice to her? But it was her good day, so she didn’t think much more before grabbing it.

They stayed like that for a couple of minutes. Every time y/N heard a noise, she would squeeze his hand. Sometimes, she worried she was using too much strength to do so.

When Harry finally popped out of the maze, y/N didn’t think much before pulling Fred into a tight hug. He gripped her with all his force, scared that would be the last and only time he could do so. She probably thinks I’m a freak, he thought to himself.

But then, silence fell upon the crowd that once was cheering. Noticing something was wrong, y/N let go of Fred and rushed down to the field where Harry was over a dead body.

Cedric Diggory was one of the champions, and he laid lifeless in the ground. Next thing she knew, the place was chaotic. Mrs Wealey and Bill took her out of there, but she protested, saying she’d only live when she knew Harry was alright.

They decided to use one of the classrooms to stay with y/N as they waited for information about what was happening. Bill wandered around but quickly came back, noticing it was better to stay and protect his mom and the muggle.

When the door opened a couple of hours later, and it scared Bill for a second before he realized it was only two of his younger brothers.

“George, Fred, what are you doing here?” Mrs Wealsey asked, hugging her boys.

“Keeping you all company,” answered Fred.

“Actually, Mum, Bill, I think Ron wants to talk to you,” added George. 

“Ron? Why would...?” but Molly stopped talking when she realized how her son Fred looked to the muggle girl. She pressed her lips in a short smile before grabbing Bill. “Come on, Bill. And, hm, George, I think you need to show us the way.”

“Of course, mum, of course! Follow me,” and just like that, they left y/N alone with Fred.

“Take care of the girl, would you, Freddie?” requested Mrs Weasley.

“Sure, mum,” said Fred.

Y/N seemed unaware of the sat up, and Fred was glad for that. He wanted some time alone, maybe ask her on a date, but it seemed wrong now that he was about to do it. She was worried about her cousin.

“He’s fine, you know,” he started saying. “Harry is okay now.”

She looked at him, tilting her head unconsciously.

“The Diggory boy had an encounter with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Well, Harry faced him too. But Harry lived,” continued Fred, but he was rambling. Y/N was confused about those terms.

There was a dark wizard after Harry. Maybe He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Name was the guy. And Harry survived, so things were... fine?

“Where’s he?” she asked, unaware that Fred was glad they were alone together in a quiet room.

“Talking to Dumbledore,” he said, but that didn’t explain much to y/N. “Our Headmaster,” he added, pressing his lips together in the end.

Y/N sighed, getting up from her chair and walking around the room. There were many thoughts inside her head, and Fred started worrying if you were going to lose your mind. He would never have sent you here if he knew what was going to happen — if only Fred knew then Fred’d have burned that letter Hedwig gave him, but instead, he thought it was some type of sign and sent it to his mom.

He wanted to see y/N. He didn’t know why, but something about her face, her voice — even her mom side with Harry and, definitely, her curiosity with the Wizarding World — made him want to know more about her.

If you asked Harry, he’d say Fred was quite annoying, more than ever. He had all sorts of questions about the muggles to Harry, and he always made the conversation go to the Dursleys and end with y/N. Anything Harry knew about her, Fred now knew too.

“Well, there isn’t much I can do here...” y/N pondered aloud. “Perhaps I should go home. Petunia will be expecting me today, anyway.”

Fred couldn’t understand her words, so he stayed silent. That caused y/N to turn and face the ginger boy.

“Petunia’s my mum. Still don’t feel like callin’ her mum, though,” y/N said what she thought was an explanation, but Fred was still confused, even though he nodded, pretending to understand.

“If you wanna go home, I can get Bill to take you. ’M sure Mom won’t leave Hogwarts so early,” Fred sighed, thinking he would’ve to let her go without a chance to know her more.

“Thank you, Fred,” y/N stepped closer to the boy. “I wish I could stay, and God knows my rebel side is saying stay, but one of your teachers already notified me that, as a muggle, I shouldn’t stay much more.”

Fred bent his head and moved closer to her too. He was thinking.

“Perhaps you can. Sure there are exceptions, and Harry lives with you, so...”

“You can make them allow me to stay?” she asked, and her emotion was making her eyes sparks. Just then Fred noticed that, although worried and scared, she didn’t whine or cry, not even once.

Fred grabbed her hand in a rush of confidence. “Come with me, let’s find someone we can talk about this with.”

And they left. *** It was Professor Sprout that talked to Fred and y/N and honestly, she didn’t understand a word the teenagers were saying. She understood the girl was a muggle — it was obvious by the way her eyes shined, fascinated with the Professor’s clothes and wand — and she noticed Fred Weasley was in love with her.

Fred couldn’t stop side-looking at the muggle, and he nodded at every word she spoke. He also was holding her hand as if his life depended on it. Sprout had seen a lot of teens in love to recognize a couple at first sight.

So, of course, she said yes to the girl’s stay. She just warned:

“Keep her out of your dorm, will you, Weasley?”

The way both of their faces got blushed only confirmed Professor Sprout’s suspects, and she walked away laughing.

Y/N and Fred decided not to mention Professor Sprout’s comment and went to see Harry, who in the hospital ward.

They stayed there, accompanied by every other person that wanted to see Harry Potter — and believe, the place was crowded. The doctor — actually, Fred explained she isn’t a doctor as muggles know it — was a bit mad with all the people around, but y/N did the same as the others and said she wasn’t going to leave Harry’s side.

Even the twins left the place, and two other gingers with the bushy-haired girl, but y/N and Molly Weasley stayed behind.

A lot of things happened, and more than half of them, y/N did not follow. She was okay with not understand if it meant she could stay, but after the mourning of her third day in Hogwarts, Molly decided it was time for y/N to go back home. She couldn’t give worry to her parents any more than she already had.

It was Bill who took her back home with the flying car. He noticed how sad y/N looked — her eyes looking at every detail of the sight of Hogwarts and then her loud breaths as if she fought tears.

“What is it?” he asked, worried. “Is it Harry?”

She was caught by surprise. “Harry? No! He’s fine now, I saw that.”

Bill raised a brow when he side-looked at her for just a second before looking back at the sky ahead.

“I...” y/N sighed, discerning she would have to speak the truth. Something about the guy didn’t let her lie. “I will miss that school. It is so beautiful, and enchanting and... well, magical.”

Bill listened to her every word with a respectful silence.

“I’ll miss being around wizards and witches. You guys are so nice and so lucky! Do you even know it? Do you know how lucky you are because you can do magic? And God! No wonder Harry doesn’t wanna go back to my parents! After meeting your family, neither I want to go back,” y/N sighed, noticing she babbled. “I don’t want to go back to being a muggle,” she whispered, speaking with disgust the last word, and turned her face to the window.

Bill made a sound y/N wasn’t able to decipher, and he waited a while before speaking.

“I’m sorry if this is gonna sound offensive, but you are not going back to being muggle — you are a muggle. You were a muggle back at Hogwarts, you are back at home,” he said, trying hard to appear gentle. He was speaking the truth, but it still offended y/N, so she kept her eyes on the window.  “But — and believe me, I’m sure of this — you are, as well as Harry, always welcome at the Burrow.”

Y/N finally stared at him.

“Burrow, you know. My family’s place,” he added that extra information that she had already picked in the air. “Mum loved meeting you. And she wasn’t the only one.”

She kept staring at him, curious.

“Anytime you wanna have a meal with the fam, they’ll have you. You are an incredible girl, and I did not get to this thought all by myself,” he said.

“Thank you, Bill. For the invite and for the, well, help,” y/N pressed Bill’s arm gently, showing her gladness. “It’s good to know you guys like me.”

***

There was nobody home, or so, y/N thought. Bill left her in front of her house, and she walked out of the car empty-handed because before leaving y/N wasn’t planning on staying long at Hogwarts. The clothes she wore back then were Gryffindor uniforms given to her by cute little house-elves, as Fred and George explained.

She walked into an apparently deserted house, so she went directly to her room. She was not expecting to find her mom there, holding one of y/N’s pillows close, sitting in the bed with a sad look towards the mirror.

“Mum?” y/N didn’t feel confident enough to call her Petunia to her face.

The mom turned to see her daughter on the door, and she let go of the pillow.

“I do wish I had gone to the wizard’s school. I wish that every day,” her mom said, surprising y/N. She was not expecting to hear an answer to a question she asked long ago. “I want to be a witch since Lily found out she was one and I’m sorry I deprived you of being as well.”

Y/N gawked at her mom like she was seeing the woman for the first time, and she probably was.

“Mum, it’s not your fault I’m not a witch,” y/N finally said, sitting down next to the mother and hugging her tightly. “It’s not something to blame someone for. We are who we are, but we don’t have to be mean to others because we aren’t who we crave to be.”

Both Dursleys hugged each other for a couple of minutes, in silence. They were about to cry but never gave in — they hated crying.

“What counts is what we do to be closer to our goal. You have a wizard in your house, mum, and you’ve never shown interest in him,” she said when she pulled away from her mother’s embrace.

“It’s hard for me,” Petunia sighed. “You are young and kind, different from your father and me. If anything, you get it from Lily.”

Y/N tilted her head. That was another thing she wasn’t expecting to hear.

“You are curious when I’m not. You are great and destined for greatness,” Petunia said. “I love you, honey. I know I don’t say it often, but I do.”

“I love you too, mum.”

***

One hot day of July, when Harry was back at home, but wandering downtown and the rest of the family had gone fishing for the day, y/N had the house for herself. She tried to enjoy it, but her mind was somewhere else.

Every day was like that. She started thinking about Hogwarts, then her mind would shift to the Weasleys, and she would end her thought with the face of Fred Weasley.  She was going crazy. The Weasleys were barely talking to Harry — to y/N, they were practically strangers once again.

It was insane of her to think about Fred holding her hand, hugging her again, saying everything was going to be okay...

She generally had Harry to bring her back to senses and to the horror to have Voldemort walking around, but Harry wasn’t home that day. It was just y/N and her thoughts.

Until the knock on her front door; Y/N jumped from the couch and rushed to get it.

And to say she was surprised to see the person behind the door was saying the least.

“Fred?” do I have the power to summon people with my mind? Am I a witch?

“Hi, y/N. Sorry I came here suddenly,” y/N agreed, but she also didn’t mind. “It’s just... I can’t take you out of my mind.”

“Me? I’m a muggle!”

“So? That doesn’t stop you from being the most beautiful, kind and interesting girl I’ve ever seen!” It was like Fred was expecting her to be doubtful.

Fred didn’t need to say more. Y/N had learned a lesson about not enjoying the moment ahead of her, and she wasn’t going to miss this opportunity.

She threw her arms around his neck and practically jumped towards the ginger boy, pressing her lips hard on his. Fred was shocked, but when he understood what was happening, he wrapped his arms around her waist, making sure she was trapped in him, and Fred kissed her back, just like he had been dreaming of doing since the day he noticed her when was trying to hide behind a pillow in her living room.

They stayed like this, focused on each other for God knows how long before y/N finally push him away gently while gasping for air.

“I’ve been thinking about you too,” she whispered, looking up at his eyes as he smiled shyly.

“Can we do this more often?” Fred asked, going back to his normal-self and smirking flirtatiously.

“You know, there’s nobody home but me. It’s no Burrow but...” y/N was smirking too eagerly.

“Say no more,” Fred pulled her close again, playing with a lock of her hair with just one hand.

They kissed again, and this time, y/N was going to make sure they were going to do it forever.

[obae-me]

Hiii! May I please request headcanons of the brothers with a MC who has hydrophobia? Thanks sweetie 💖

I wanted to do a little bit of research into it before I even posted it, and I really hope I’m not getting Aquaphobia and Hydrophobia confused. This was something new for me so I’m sorry if it’s not the best. I hope this has enough of what you want, thank you so so much for submitting! 💜

Lucifer

He already knew this about MC, so he’d try to keep them away from large bodies of water as much as he could. Luckily in the Devildom there weren’t many. Not around RAD anyway. He knows about the large lake beside Diavolo’s castle, but there’s not too many times MC would be there.

The time did come eventually. Lucifer and MC had been invited to his castle to talk more about the program. Diavolo had taken them both outside since it seemed much more pleasant than his ‘stuffy castle’. Of course he had taken them both right near that open body of water. 

This would be the first time Lucifer got to see how serious this was. It was one thing to know about and another to see it in action. He was aware of MC right beside him, starting to tremble, their hands fidgeting. Their skin has lost some of its color.

MC had never looked like this in front of him before, not even when any of him or his brothers were in demon form. They had always been too brave for their own good, a trait he had both found annoying yet endearing. He put a supportive hand on their shoulder, and as soon as the conversation was over, he led them away from the lake.

“MC, MC, breathe. You’re right here with me.” 

He covered their shoulders with his coat and stayed with them until MC caught their breath. Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. He’d have to take extra precautions to make sure they never looked like that again.

He’d ask MC to join him in his study when they got home so they could talk about it. He couldn’t make another careless mistake like this again, for their sake. 

Mammon

He is as clueless as always, but he never ever means to hurt MC intentionally. He just thought it would be fun to take them to the RAD swimming pool after hours. After all he had taken a dare earlier that day, and if he got away with it, he’d earn some serious cash. 

He read their body language as “I’m nervous to be here after hours, what if Lucifer find out” instead of “I’m terrified to be by this huge demon-sized pool” so he tries shoving them in for fun.

MC absolutely shrieked. They grabbed onto him with a death grip, shaking like a leaf about to be blown off a tree due to violent winds. So, in shorter words, intensely.

Mammon was stunned for the longest time, trying to come up with all sorts of answers in his head to why they screamed like that? Was it something he did? Did MC see something? Did they not know how to swim or something?

“Hey, hey, human it was just a joke, huh, I didn’t mean nothing by it.”

He held them close and led them outside, leaving his fun plans and money behind to take them home. He won’t soon be forgetting the piercing sound of the scream they made.

Once MC calmed down back in the House of Lamentation, they explained the ins and outs of their phobia to Mammon. Of all the things...he didn’t really think of the possibility that humans could be afraid of water.

“Dummy, why didn't you say that before?! Man now I do feel kinda like a scumbag.” 

Will become very protective now anytime too much water is involved, sticking by MC’s side constantly. Not like he doesn’t already do this already. 

Levi

He first noticed MC acting strange the first time they were in his room, and took strange steps to be as far away from his gigantic fish tank at all times. If they stayed in his room, they would make fervent glances over at it, looking more timid than usual. 

He didn’t think much of it, since MC was new and he knew nothing about normal demons much less normal humans. He noted it as quirky and forgot about it...till he tried taking MC to the beach. Their reaction was much more severe, not even getting anywhere near close to the water’s edge, almost being even to afraid to look at the vastness of it. 

When MC finally confided in him, he couldn’t help but feel as if this was somehow part of his fault. 

“Was it the gigantic sea monster I released?”

“It has nothing to do with you, Levi, I’ve had this fear for a long time.”

Levi loves water, he feels most home at it, he even sleeps in a bathtub for Diavolo’s sake. He’s always secretly waited to share that love with MC. If they’re scared though...he won’t force them. 

He’ll compare this to a scenario in a video game, just like MC has not been coded to swim. There will be some sort of barrier for them around water. This helps him understand this a bit easier. 

If MC is too uncomfortable to be around his fish tank, whenever he feels like it, he’ll bring his whole setup into their room. 

Satan

He made an educated guess that MC had this fear. He may or may not have been able to see some information about them by breaking into Lucifer’s study. Since it wasn’t often that MC came across too much water in the Devildom, he didn’t chalk it up to too big of an issue. 

He did however, reread one of his books containing all sorts of different phobias and fears, so he could at least try to be knowledgeable about it. 

One particular day, MC came home much too late. Apparently, they had made a point to take a much longer route home, just so they wouldn’t have to come across the dark and deep foreboding pond that was settled on one of the paths home.  

He admitted he may have underestimated how much of a problem this actually was.

He’ll give MC all sorts of different routes to take, ones that would do well to avoid any ponds or rivers. It was probably for the best anyway, this was the Devildom after all, and rarely were the waters free of anything that could potentially harm MC.  

He doesn’t really like water either, he’s not afraid of it like MC is, but he’ll stay away when he can. He feels more of a connection to MC because of this and will make sure he has a list of activities they both can enjoy together away on dry land.

If he feels like it’s impeding their life, he’ll try to help them overcome it.

Asmo

He was completely unaware until he got invited to a special After-RAD beach party. With MC as his plus-one, he dragged them out to mingle. 

MC doesn’t bother wearing a swimsuit, for obvious reasons, but he takes that clue in an entirely different direction. “Oh are you going to swim au-natural? So bold~”

He’s very in tune the body so he knows how it looks when it’s pleased, and how it looks when it’s distressed. 

So at the party he notices that MC’s chest is rising and falling much more than normal. Social jitters? He keeps a careful eye on them while he goes to town on the flirting. When he comes back around to MC, he sees more symptoms, the sweaty palms, the fluttering eyes, and their breathing is much more shallow now. 

Once he finds out he doesn’t stop smothering MC with attention. “Why didn’t you tell me dear? It’s okay, we don’t need the beach to have fun, we’ll leave right away, there will plenty of other parties. All the people here are lame anyway.” 

He’ll take MC back home to treat them to a spa night, something much more relaxing than that awful party. He’ll massage their shoulders, telling MC how tense they were after being there. “Poor sweet darling.” 

MC can have a spa day with Asmo whenever they want, it’s so much more fun than parties, if they were the one he was working on at least. 

Don’t worry because MC can be afraid of water all they want, but there are still plenty of ways to get wet~

Beel

He was told much later than he would’ve preferred. Having a phobia like this seemed like something MC would’ve shared with him almost immediately. He only figured it out after they shared it with him after he asked MC to watch him work out.

He wanted to change up his routine a bit, and decided to swim that day in the gym swimming pool. With MC there, he would be able to push himself further under their support. 

However, because he was so immersed in his workout, he didn’t realize MC was in the middle of a panic attack. He looked up from the water just in time to watch MC sprint out of the pool area obviously flustered. He followed them immediately, worried it was something he did. 

When he found them, they were gasping for air, tears streaking down their face. Beel wasted no time embracing them in a hug, petting their head and telling them to breathe in and out, to focus on his voice. 

Once MC could speak, they apologized, briefly explaining their fear to him. Had he known, Beel wouldn’t have even gotten them anywhere near the pool. 

He’ll fully support them, whether anyone says that their phobia is rational or not, it’s still something that terrifies them, and he doesn’t want them to feel like that ever, if he can help it. 

Belphie

He still doesn’t know a lot about MC, since...you know. He doesn’t expect MC to tell him anything either because...well...

Found it out firsthand when he invited MC out to one of his favorite napping spots. A nice little place apart from the Devildom danger. Under a lovely weeping tree right near a wide river. This spot was perfect since the rapids rushing by canceled out the normal sounds of everyday demon life. Except it didn’t drown out MC’s fear.

He had fallen asleep as soon as they got to their destination, meaning that he left MC alone to their panic. They felt alone, ridiculous, and by the time Belphie opened his eyes to check on them, they were already in a ball, shivering. 

The Demon of Sloth had hardly moved so fast to get to their side, giving them his special pillow to squeeze. When MC told him about it in choppy words, he let out a long sigh. He felt dumb. 

“Let’s get you home then, you look exhausted.” Those were the only words he said, but he made up for it in his actions. He never once let go of them on their walk back to the House of Lamentation. He let them sleep in his bed since it was state of the art, he claimed. 

MC never did discover that after they fell asleep, Belphie headed straight to Lucifer to chew him out for not telling him. Lucifer knew practically everything about MC, save for what Diavolo wouldn’t share. After he had said his piece, he went back to his shared bedroom to cuddle with them, making sure they were okay before he fell asleep this time. 

Gee, he hates how MC keeps him restless. 

[ayellowcurtain]

Is it possible that you write a fic where Robbe is feeling a bit frustrated as Sander found new friends at school, and he spends a lot more times with them now, maybe too much as he starts getting late at some of their dates? Bonus point if one of his friends doesn't like robbe that much and Robbe knows it?

Part 1 -  hint of dirty talking, but it’s really a hint, if you blink you might miss it 

It’s been five days. Yeah, Robbe is actually doing a countdown. He doesn’t really have to, based on the number of times he checks his phone to see the day and the amount of time he goes to Sander’s Instagram or their conversation.

He’s been trying to be patient and understands he brought this upon himself, but it doesn’t make it less painful. The cold shoulder behavior he’s been receiving for the past...well, five days. Robbe is ignoring all of it, still texting Sander all day long like he would if they were talking.

to Sander: I think I got a good grade on today’s test. I hope I did, don’t feel like studying anymore.

Hope you’re having fun <3 I miss you

You would laugh at me if you were seeing this. I tried making that pasta you taught me. I mean...it’s eatable so that’s good?

My mom said it’s delicious and for me to thank you for teaching the recipe. But she’s my mom so I can’t take her word for it, I think it turned out okay

He stares at his screen, bitting the corner of his bottom lip, his arms a little tired from being up in the air, holding his phone for so long, rereading the messages he sent today. He types the last one for the night.

to Sander: I’m going to bed now, wishing you were with me. I love you <3

And he puts his phone on airplane mode, checking his alarm for the next morning before putting his phone down on the nightstand, far away enough that he can’t reach easily if he decides to text Sander in the middle of the night, asking to talk just to be ignored one more time.

He hasn’t been sleeping well, starting to worry the second he puts his head on his pillow every night, overthinking everything he said, afraid his words were enough to make Sander change his mind and break up.

He has a few more tests, and some assignments to give to his teachers, but in every free minute that he has, Robbe is checking his phone, knowing what he’ll find: his messages with no answer. Sometimes Sander will at least read them, but he never answers properly. He likes Robbe’s messages or sends a few emojis that can have so many interpretations.

The school is his main focus during the weekdays, his only way to worry about something else other than his relationship, but he does everything automatically not needing to use much of his brain: wakes up, eats breakfast with his mom, goes to school, does whatever test he has, leaves his assignments, watches classes, gets on his bike and goes home.

He doesn’t feel like skating and spending his time with the boys these days. It’s stupid, but he gets even angrier if he remembers what Sander said and his reaction. So he decides to leave Aaron, Moyo, and Jens be for now.  

Robbe moves to his side under the sheets, opening Instagram again. It’s Friday night, finally, and Jens insisted on him to go with them to this new bar close to his place, but Robbe was tired after so many tests and he wanted to be alone. Or with Sander, but that he couldn’t do.

Sander posted a piece of art earlier and tagged some of his friends in it. Robbe opens every one of the links in hopes to find a story or a picture with his boyfriend in it. He leaves the worst one for last. And of course, that’s where he finds something.

Adi posted a bunch of videos during the whole afternoon. Robbe rewatches them more times than he should, just to hear his boyfriend’s voice or to see his blurry smile when Adi films him looking at some art, his favorite camera under his arm and around his neck, laughing over his shoulder to look at Adi when he’s making fun of how Sander would rather look at more art in their free time instead of going out for some drinks.

Robbe didn’t know Sander’s friends were going and he can’t stop himself from wondering why they could go and that wasn’t even offered to him. He stops before he can start disliking Adi even more for no reason other than the boy is not his fan either. He opens the stories again and tries to take a screenshot of Sander’s smile, his messy hair that’s needing a haircut if Sander’s words are something to go by.

Robbe keeps his opinions to himself for four more days, trying not to let Adi get under his skin with all the stories, all about Sander. Or the pictures he posts of all of them at a bar late at night, smiling from ear to ear. He knows part of all these posts is to annoy him. That’s what Adi does, he doesn’t like Robbe and he’ll make sure to piss him off whenever he can. Showing off how Sander is having fun with him and the boys.

to Sander: ’m happy to s you and Adi aer having fun. Hope he wont maaAke you hate me:)

Robbe texts his boyfriend on the tenth night when he’s drunk after going out with the boys because they wouldn’t let him go home yet again. He’s struggling to change to go to bed, wishing he had warmer, stronger hands to help him with that. Robbe won’t get an answer and he’ll be hungover the next morning so he turns his phone off and passes out on his bed.

It feels like he blinked his eyes and when he opens, his mom is carefully putting a big bottle of water on his nightstand and leaving him be for a little longer. Robbe lifts his arm, feeling it so heavy and tired, but he manages to grab the bottle, turn to his side and drink half of it, hoping it’ll help.

He can’t put it back on the nightstand so he leaves the water on the floor and falls asleep again. Using his hand to cover his eyes, wanting to cry and call Sander to break things up already if that’s why he’s trying to do with this stupid silence.

His phone lightens the room suddenly and Robbe opens his eyes, trying to understand where the light is coming from. He looks around himself, everything is exactly as messy as he left it so he puts his head down, staring at his phone until the light fades back to black. He stretches his phone and finds it, letting his arm fall back on the mattress with the phone. His eyes are fighting to close again, but Robbe presses his fingers on the sides of his phone to see what’s going on.

earthlingoddity tagged you in a photo

That’s unexpected, but Robbe clicks on the notification, rubbing his eyes with his other hand to wake up enough to see what he posted.

He clicks on Sander’s username, opening his feed to make sure he saw it right. A picture of him that Sander took and never showed him. He can post a picture of Robbe, but not reply to his messages.

It’s ridiculous how fast his half-asleep, deprived of touch body responds to the caption Sander wrote underneath the picture.

I keep my visions to myself

It's only me who wants to

Wrap around your dreams and

Have you any dreams you'd like to sell?

Robbe lies on his back, reading the caption a few times. It’s not even that sexual, but it feels like it. He opens their conversation, still no new message from Sander so he closes it again, opening the camera. Looking at himself, the sheets falling closely around his legs, Robbe thinks about being stupid and reckless and desperate .

Maybe that will make Sander reply to him for once. Letting his rush of adrenaline take over, Robbe lifts the sheets, looking at the door to make sure it’s closed. He’s harder than he anticipated which is a little embarrassing considering that absolutely nothing happened, but fuck it. He takes the picture of his naked torso, his shirt rolling on his chest from him probably moving too much while asleep, his lean, way too skinny legs, and his grey underwear.

to Sander: you can’t write things like that

And he sends before he can think about it. It’s been a while since they did this. Exchanging photos, but Robbe waits, keeping his phone unlocked. Sander sees the photo right away, but there are no bubbles indicating an answer.

Robbe lets himself wait for five minutes. Sander liked the photo, but didn’t answer, didn’t send a text. Just like the universe is trying to send a clear message, when his phone hits 12:45, it turns black.

“Shit…” Robbe slams his phone against the mattress, hating himself for being so stupid and needy.

Sander really left him on read after that photo.

Robbe rushes out of his bedroom, clicking on the screen a bunch of times to make sure he’s completely out of battery. His mom doesn’t know his password either so he’s not risking her seeing what he just sent to Sander.

“Mom?” He finds her in the living room, soft music playing in the background, everything is off the floor so she can clean it.

“Yes?” She stops her dance party while mopping the floor, turning around to look at him.

“Can you do me a favor?” Robbe keeps pinching the inside of his cheek with his teeth, the embarrassment still filling his every thought like his mom can see in his face what he did five minutes ago.

“Of course. What do you need?”

“I need you to keep my phone hostage for the next 24 hours.” He offers his phone to her, trying not to worry. It’s just 24 hours and Sander hasn’t replied to him in days, it’s not like he’ll miss much if he keeps his distance from his phone for a whole day. She frowns, but smiles softly, holding his phone carefully.

“Okay…” Robbe smiles at her, and she looks at the black screen, “Can I ask why?”

Robbe tilts his head, looking around, not knowing what to say, “I just have some important things to do for school and so I need to focus.”

She doesn’t believe him, keeps staring like she’s waiting for him to tell the truth, but he doesn’t want to and she doesn’t ask either, putting his phone inside her pocket.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, sweetie. If you need anything, just ask.” She says and he nods his head, thinking about making them lunch as a thank you, trying to keep his mind away from Sander and how unfair he's being.

[nctadoll]

          Aight, so, it’s time for one of these posts.  I make these posts occasionally on my other blogs, so if you follow a few of my other blogs, then you might be rereading a bit— However, quite a bit has happened since my last post regarding this subject. I make these posts as, updates / warnings I suppose, as I feel they’re warranted whenever a new blog of mine gets any kind of traction.

         Intense trigger heavy content below the cut.

      For those not in the know, I’m J. I went by ‘Jake’ for a number of years, but about a year ago I decided to shorten it, it was just simpler that way. I’m currently 21 years old, and I’ve been writing on this platform since I was 13. Which is kinda crazy looking back on it, amazing how time flies like that. 

     Within the last... Five or so years, something started happening to me, something that I wasn’t really familiar with on a self basis, but I gotta go further back to properly provide context. Starting in 2011, making me 11 at the time, my family moved from our first house, this brought along MANY challenges as a move typically does— However, shortly after the move, my father lost his job. This, did a lot to him, severely damaging his mental stability. This continued until 2016?? ( My memory of exactly when is foggy ) When he was kicked from the residence over physical domestic abuse issues. He lived away for a year, and then he returned. Then, almost a year later, it happened again, ending with him hospitalized and kicked out once again ( this took place on my 18th birthday lmao ), where he remains gone till this day. Though, given the state of the things happening, that might be changing in the coming weeks.

      He was eventually diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, which, is an extremely heavy mental disorder to have. And a few months ago, I was diagnosed with the exact same disorder. Up until the age of about 16 / 17 I never had massive issues with mental health, I was happy and never really felt any downtime. That changed, as mood swings became common, and I found myself combative and easy to anger, which was something that was never the case before. My family just excused it as puberty as they do. 

       For those unaware, BPD causes... Multiple horrid things. Such as fear of abandonment, unclear / shifting self image, impulsive and self destructive behavior, explosive anger, intense paranoia and suicidal tendencies. I can safely say, I see and deal with all of this. Now, this has manifested in multiple ways online, many in ways that harm my friends. What’ll happen, is I’ll grow so intensely paranoid of little things, that things will build and build until I have an Event where I cut myself from friends and delete blogs or accounts. Then, a few hours later, or in intense cases DAYS later, I’ll come down from this hell high, and remember the shit I did, or sometimes I’ll even have no recollection of the things I’ve done- Leading to piecing together why some friends disappeared or why they won’t speak to me.

        One of the most damaging things, can be the warped perception of everything around you. All of this, has wildly damaged my social abilities over the years— And that’s perhaps one of the most difficult parts, what was simple for me years ago, is suddenly a lot more difficult. It’s led to an intense social anxiety and it leads to you just, wildly fearing how you’ll fuck up the good things you have going for you. Regardless of if you want to or not. It’s so, unbelievably damaging and corruptive. It’s caused me to become this, horrid thing in the eyes of old friends, and I can’t apologize enough. It spawned this, desire to fight and feel a rush of conflict, hence the impulsive behavior.

        It’s something in this weird window, it isn’t me, but at the same time it technically is. I’ve lived my life so desperately trying to never bother anyone around me, the stress of the idea of bothering someone often keeps me from doing anything at all. Which is why this is such a problem. Over the last few months, I’ve been put on medication, and it’s really been helping me, more so than I had anticipated... My impulsive moments aren’t really happening anymore, and while I have down moments, they don’t lead to shitty behavior anymore. 

         I bring these kinda things up, because in the off chance I’m WRONG about how helpful the medication is, or something gets fucked up with it— I want people to know ahead of time.. It’s a lot to ask my friends to put up with it, and I’m not saying they have to— BPD is a lot, and I don’t blame anyone that would rather avoid it, it’s intense. I also know a bunch of people that, won’t speak to me over issues like this, I guess I kinda hope that one day they’ll at least be able to see this and understand. I don’t need forgiveness, because at the end of the day, I did the things I did, blocking and isolating, I did it— I don’t know if I deserve it, but I at the very least wanna be understood. I think, for those unaware, it creates this, weird idea of what I am, like I’m purposefully trying to do them wrong, and that can’t be further from the case.

        If you’ve read all of this, I greatly appreciate it. It puts a lot of ease on my mind. This is also open for discussion or conversation, should you wish to know more or anything, I’m completely open to talk.

[dehydratedpool]

hello again!! it’s the beginning of a new month, meaning a new fic rec post!! here are some fics that i read this month that are just... exquisite and deserve all the love and attention <3 

there aren’t as many as last time unfortunately, since i was quite busy this past month, but i promise next month won’t fall short! ((fics that i’ve reread this month are indicated with a **))

Foolishly Laying Our Hearts On The Table [11k] by runaway_train @runaway-train-works 

“You think Harry wants that?”

“Dunno. Maybe. Wanna make him happy.” Harry takes advantage of the red light he’s pulled up to turn and look properly at Louis’ face. He’s not even looking in Harry’s direction though, focused instead on something out of his side window, head drooped, mindlessly playing with the string of his hoodie between his fingers, lost in his own world somewhere. For some reason, it makes Harry’s spine straighten.

“Because he’s your best mate?” Harry questions carefully.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

He couldn’t have heard him right. “What?”

Louis releases a deep breath, still not turning around. Harry wonders who he thinks he’s talking to right now. “He’s so pretty. Want to kiss him all day long. And buy him a big house and give him presents and marry him.”

Or; The one where Harry is in love with his best friend Louis but doesn't think he stands a chance until some wisdom teeth and a rather unusual confession might just change his mind.

--> this is a new comfort fic for me tbh. i got rec’d this after louis tweeted about getting his wisdom teeth removed, and i’m so SO glad i decided to give it a read. it’s so precious and lovely and personally, i found it to be a quick read. it’s the kind of fic that makes me both warm and fuzzy inside but also highly upset that i’m single and will surely be alone forever

Just Let Me [14k] by HelloAmHere 

The party was going well. So well, Niall had already sworn undying love to one multi-tiered chocolate cake, two friendly corgi-poodle mixes, Zayn’s hair, and the entire population of Los Angeles. So well, Zayn had only laughed and ruffled Niall’s hair and not even twitched towards a cigarette. So well, nearly everyone had spilled far past the boundaries of the night’s original plans, extracting bottles of vodka from the cabinets and losing a lot of clothes. Harry had proclaimed that he was finally going to throw a small and very grownup dinner party and of course here they were three hours later, fifty people half-naked in the pool. Soon to be full-naked, if Louis had to guess. Everybody in LA loved a heated pool. Everybody loved Harry.

--> ok LISTEN. as some of you know, i just recently got into reading a/b/o fics and this one is definitely at the top of my fave a/b/o fics out there. it’s an interesting take on the trope, almost a bit more realistic in my opinion, and to quote the author’s note, “’what if a/b/o but less biological determinism?’”. i believe i found this one through a masterpost of “touch-deprivation fics”, so if that’s your thing, give this one a chance!

my ugly mouth kept running [4k] by theankletattoo @hadestyles

Another seed, another try except they know what caused the first wilt. They will be careful, they will be kind and together they will nurture it to life.

sometimes second chances are more important than the first.

--> rori, the author, never fails to disappoint when it comes to all of her works. i’ve said it once and i’ll say it again, she’s so incredibly fucking talented it’s unreal. her imagery is so vivid and real it leaves simultaneously everything and nothing to the imagination. as usual, h and l’s dynamic in this is an addicting portion to this fic that has you anticipating how their dynamic will shift and grow up until the end. if you’ve yet to read any of rori’s work, i suggest you add that to your to-do list for the month, and get a head start to her collection with this one!

**As Wicked As Anything Could Be [21k] by whoknows @crazyupsetter

It starts when Louis decides that he wants to lose his cherry and announces that he thinks the best way to do that is by going to a gay club. Naturally, Harry can’t let him go alone, so he tags along and spends the night rating guys with Louis until someone finally catches Louis’s eye.

Harry shoves him out to dance with the guy, and he can already tell that it’s going to be a quick and dirty hook up, so he’s not surprised that Louis and the guy disappear into the bathroom ten minutes later.

It is a surprise when Louis comes out not even two minutes later, pale and clammy, grabs Harry by the hand and drags him right out the door.

Somehow Harry comes to the decision that it would be a good idea for him to be in the room with Louis while Louis gets laid.

It’s a stupid fucking decision.

--> i discovered this fic a while ago on a whim and i have zero regrets. this is absolutely on my top ten fave fics list (that has yet to exist but perhaps i’ll post it one day). whoknows is a well known author within the fandom, so i’m sure i don’t have to say much about their immense talent, but SERIOUSLY, their plot progression, even their use of dialogue is wonderful in every way. as a writer, i envy them lmao. this fic takes me on a rollercoaster every time i read it, it’s yet another comfort fic of mine and never fails to disappoint every time i pick it up again. please, do yourselves a favor this april and read this.

Keeping The Flame Alive [19k] by whoknows @crazyupsetter 

Recording with One Direction never felt like this. There’s a couple reasons for that, Harry thinks. One is that they did most of their recording on the road, rushed and in busses and hotel rooms, never in one place long enough to really get an argument going. The other, larger and more important one, is that back then he had the sweetest, meanest little omega around to distract him from all of that frustration.

The first time around, when he’d been recording his debut solo album, it hit him pretty hard. He likes to think he’s better adjusted to it now, but frustration is warring under his skin nonetheless. He doesn’t want to be told what to do most of the time, and he especially doesn’t want to be told what to do when it comes to his music.

What he does want right now is that sweet, mean little omega right in front of him with his mouth on Harry’s cock. Unfortunately, the best he’s got is his own hand and a shared toilet. So. That’s really not going to work.

--> yes, for the first time in dehydratedpoolfics history of fic recs even tho i’ve only been doing this for a month i am rec’ing the same author twice, but seriously, how could i not??? this fic took me on a literal journey like... wtf. i have no words. seriously, i have none, i’m just that blown away, go read it for yourself .

**a trail of honey through it all [27k] by bruisedhoney @yvesaintlourent 

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

Or, the TPH fic we’ve all been waiting for.

--> okay look. i may or may not have a slight obsession with this fic. i reread it constantly, mostly for the iconic line, “are we fuckin’ or fightin’?”, because how can i not scream over that?? ((also patiently waiting for the sequel)) this is a literary masterpiece, one that defines an entire generation of this fandom i stg. but in all seriousness, hayley, the author, does such a wonderful job of giving the reader a vivid look into “nowhere, georgia”, and as a southern gal myself, i absolutely adore the itty bitty pieces of southern culture embedded into this, the tiny quirks that make this fic authentic. i could probably go on forever on why this fic is so iconic, but perhaps you should read it for yourself instead *wink* *wink*

SO. that’s all for this month!! if you read any of these, first of all, be sure to read the tags and author’s note (if any) before starting, AND please don’t forget to leave a quick kudos or comment, it means more than you may ever know <3

[multisfabulis]

Wayfinder’s Voyage

Oceanic (Chapter 1 | 2)

Word Count: 5785

I hope everyone enjoyed reading this! I'm honestly super anxious while I'm typing this because, not only is this my first fic in the KH fandom, this is also my first ship fic so I'm feeling a lot of pressure.

I want to apologize if the characters seem OOC in this, I was mainly going off of memory and a Wiki because I didn't want to sit through an entire LP of BBS just to get a few details accurate. It already took me a month and a half to write all of this and I didn't want to take up more time.

I do have more Terraqua fics in the works, as well as a couple other KH fics in general, but those will probably be posted way later. I just wanted to test the waters with this fic and see how I do so...

So some things to note:

*Both Aqua and Terra's first scenes in this fic were made entirely for the purpose of giving them build-up while not diminishing Ven's importance to them. I was already going to be fucking with canon a lot but I also didn't want to leave Ven to the wayside so I created those scenes. You'll see Terra's in the next chapter.

*I feel the need to apologize for the second half of the second scene because that still feels like word barf, even when I know why I wrote it like that. I hope the intention behind those words is still conveyed clearly but I'll understand if it's not.

*As for the last scene, I completely misremembered the sequence of events leading up to the end. I already knew that scene was going to be changed somewhat just for the context of the ship but I think it's pretty clear which parts I changed on purpose and which parts I was winging it. It's been years since I last watched that scene, it was super late into the night, this was my third rewrite, and I felt satisfied with my work before realizing I fucked up and decided to go along with it.

Read on AO3 | Read on DA | Support me on Ko-fi!

     Today started out like any other normal day. Aqua woke up, did her morning regimen, and set off for the great hall to begin her studies. She and Terra, her friend/rival, were to train under the watchful eye of their master Eraqus in the hopes of coming one step closer to fulfilling their lifelong dream. They would one day surpass the rank of apprentice and become Keyblade Masters in their own right, something she wished would arrive sooner rather than later.

     Then came time for their daily duel. They would often spar with each other as a way of proving their capabilities in battle, seeing what areas they could use improvement in, and showing off the techniques they had learned from past fights. This seemed to be no different from their previous clashes.

     She was on the defense, blocking and deflecting each blow Terra threw her way with relative ease. He managed to find an opening she didn’t account for and all but jumped on the opportunity. He charged in, his Keyblade held high, and she only had a split second to raise hers in an attempt to guard against it. Yet, whether it was due to a miscalculation on his part or her just reacting too slow, he ended up hitting her unarmored wrist. She quickly backed away, letting out a cry of pain as both Keyblades were dismissed in a flash of light. Eraqus rushed over to check if she was okay.

     Terra was beside her with remorseful apologies spilling out of his mouth but she barely paid them any heed. Her eyes were focused on something much more alarming, something she knew Eraqus saw too. Emanating from Terra’s hand was an aura of Darkness, which vanished as soon as he noticed it. He tried to defend himself to Eraqus but the damage was already done.

     Their master had an almost zealous hatred for Darkness, believing it’d bring nothing but destruction in its wake, and sought to rid the Land of Departure of any, even if some laid dormant in his apprentices’ hearts. This was a constant problem for Terra, who always seemed to harbor enough to fall back on, be it consciously or not. For it to flare up during training, that drew Eraqus’s ire.

     It was hard not to feel sorry for Terra as he was being harshly scolded. It wasn’t like he was trying to use Darkness, at least not intentionally. She knew that it was only an accident but it wouldn’t help stop the shame he undoubtedly felt. He’ll probably curse himself for being too weak and letting Darkness in yet again once he thought no one was around, an occurrence she’s been privy to more than she had any right to be. She needed to talk with him once she had her wrist taken care of.

     With a hand on her back, Eraqus began leading her out of the great hall. She looked over her shoulder to catch one last glimpse of Terra before leaving. He hung his head in shame as he clenched his fists in what she believed to be anger. It was just as she expected. She turned her head back to face forward, hoping he wouldn’t blame himself more than he already was.

     They made their way over to the infirmary, where Eraqus gently took hold of her wrist to examine it. She could see now how bruised and swollen it was from the impact as she winced with every slight movement. He was able to determine she had a sprained wrist, which she regarded as a miracle. With the amount of force Terra had in his swing, she was thankful it didn’t result in a break. She was to keep it wrapped and iced for a couple days till it healed, something she had no problem with.

     After it was bandaged, she was told to take it easy until then. She asked Eraqus about Terra and he said he’d have a talk with him once enough time had passed for things to settle down. There was an undercurrent of regret in his voice, made even clearer by the expression on his face. Their master may be strict but he still cared for them, similar in the way a father would for his children. This gave her some hope in that he realized what happened was an accident and he’d forgive Terra. Time would only tell.

     She spent the rest of the day in the library. She figured she’d get some studying done if she couldn’t practice with her Keyblade for the next few days. Try as she might, though, she could barely focus on the words she was reading and that was if she didn’t reread the sentence to understand it. Her mind kept wandering to Terra, whether he was okay or not, and what he was doing right now. Worry gnawed at her heart until she couldn’t take it anymore. The sun was beginning to cast orange and violet hues across the sky when she decided and rushed out to find him.

     He wasn’t in the great hall or his room when she looked in. Searching all around the building yielded no results, either. She wondered where he could be, her anxiety growing as she saw night quickly approaching. He had to still be in the Land of Departure and the only place she hadn’t checked yet was the mountain. She ran out to the Forecourt and then beyond its boundary.

     Stars were twinkling into existence by the time she reached the winding path leading up to the mountain. If it weren’t for the lights set alongside the dirt road, she would’ve been stumbling about blindly in the dark. It was when she arrived at the overlook just before the summit she found him.

     His back faced her as she saw that he was sitting on the edge of the cliff. Taking a few steps closer revealed him to be looking down below the mountain with an indiscernible expression. It was troubling to see him like this. What happened earlier today had to be weighing heavily on his mind.

     Tentatively walking forward, she called out, “Terra?”

     He stiffened and quickly turned around to face her, asking a barrage of questions like, “Aqua, are you okay? How’s your wrist? Is it bad? It’s bad, isn’t it?”

     “No, no, it’s all right, see?” she replied, showing him her bandaged wrist. “Master said it was only a sprain and that it should be okay in a couple days as long as I took it easy.”

     He let out a sigh of relief, no doubt feeling some of the guilt be lifted off his shoulders. “That’s good. I don’t think I would’ve forgiven myself if I managed to break your wrist.”

     “Well, you didn’t, so don’t beat yourself up over it, okay?”

     Silence fell between them. She noticed him staring at her wrist with clouded eyes, despite her assurances of being fine. Before she could think of a way to broach the issue at hand, he spoke up.

     “Aqua, I’m…I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you, it was an accident, and---”

     “I know, I know! You don’t need to apologize, I know you would never try and hurt me,” she interjected, trying to comfort him. “I’m more worried about you and how you’re doing after Master had those…words with you.”

     He averted his eyes from her. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen Eraqus scold Terra like he had before and those always left him feeling horrible with himself. She was used to being the one to get him back to normal but something told her this wouldn’t be as easy as previous times.

     Turning away from her, he said, “I deserved it. Master was right, I could’ve seriously hurt you.”

     “But you didn’t and that’s what matters,” she replied.

     “I was wielding Darkness, Aqua!” he exclaimed, taking her aback. He ran a hand through his hair before continuing on, “I thought it was gone. I thought I had it under control but I guess I don’t. Maybe it never left.”

     “Terra…” She walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay. You’ve gotten rid of Darkness before, you can do it again. You just have to---”

     He brushed her off. “What if I don’t? What if I’ll always have Darkness inside me?”

     “What are you saying?”

     “Maybe I’m not meant to be a Keyblade Master. Maybe I’m just destined to fall into darkness. It’s my fate to lose my heart and become a Heartless.”

     “That won’t happen, Terra. You’re strong enough to resist it and---”

     “What if I’m not, Aqua? How else would you explain why I keep having Darkness come out of me? You can’t, can you?”

     To her horror, he was right. There was no way she could explain why Darkness lingered inside him, even with the numerous attempts to rid himself of it. It wasn’t because he had a weak heart, that much she was certain. So what was the connection between the two? Was Terra right in that he was destined to fall into darkness, either by losing his heart or some other means?

     The thought rocked her to the core. She didn’t want to believe his fate was to be lost in a hellish abyss until he was put out of his misery. He was her dear friend and he deserved so much more than being reduced to a lowly Heartless. She refused to accept it, which was why she decided to do something about it.

     “You won’t fall into darkness, Terra,” she affirmed, stepping around him to meet his gaze. “I know it.”

     “How? How can you be so sure?” he asked.

     “Because I won’t let you.” She took hold of his hand in a gentle yet firm grip. “I promise I won’t let you fall into darkness.”

     He seemed genuinely shocked by her words. She meant what she said and she planned on upholding her promise. It may be hard and it may even be treacherous at times but it’d all be worth it if he remained in the light.

     “And, if you do fall, I promise to always guide you back home,” she added, giving his hand a squeeze.

     “...You have that much faith in me, huh?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

     “Why wouldn’t I?” She cupped his cheek. “You’re my friend, Terra, and I know you’re strong enough to resist its temptation. I’ll just be there to remind you every so often.”

     He said nothing, instead deciding to pull her into a hug. She was surprised by this, seeing as how he wasn’t a very affectionate person, at least in the physical aspect. She was about ready to question him on why he was doing this when she heard him whisper in her ear:

     “Thank you, Aqua, for believing in me.”

     Her heart fluttered in her chest from the sincerity in his voice. She could sometimes be slow on the uptake but this had to be a new record. It was only now she realized just how much her vow must’ve touched him and how badly he must’ve been feeling before she showed up. She was glad to have cheered him up some. Thus, she returned the hug and answered,

     “You’re welcome.”

     Terra wasn’t going to fall into darkness, not if she had anything to say about it. He won’t be led astray. She’d be his anchor to the realm of light. A promise is a promise, which she wholly planned to keep.

     Aqua breathed in deep and touched the tip of her paintbrush on the small piece of glass sitting in front of her. Drawing it upwards left the top half in a pretty shade of cyan blue. She continued to paint with delicate and meticulous strokes until she was satisfied with her work. The bottom half was then covered in a dark blue, which almost matched the ocean she imagined in her mind. Once the piece of glass was completely painted over, she gingerly picked it up and set it aside to dry. One down, four more to go before she moved on to the next phase.

     She was in the process of making her Wayfinder. She already crafted two others that happened to be sitting off to the side, one in amber and one in green. She hoped to give them to Terra and Ven soon once she was done creating hers. Seeing as how she and Terra were meant to have their Mark of Mastery exam in the near future, they were meant to be good luck charms and Ven was getting one simply because it’d be unfair if he was left out. They also had another purpose to them, something she thought was rather poignant and was the main reason she wanted them.

     Wayfinders were said to be designed after star-shaped fruit called Paopu, which were also said to tie friends together. If they carried these on them, nothing would drive them apart. They’d even help find one’s way back to them if they were ever lost. It may be silly of her to believe in this but it struck a chord within her when she first heard it and, in some ways, she wanted it to be true.

     The question of what would happen after she and Terra aced their exam had weighed heavily on her mind for some time. Eraqus had told them they could either travel beyond the Land of Departure and expand their horizons or succeed him and protect their world from Darkness. They hadn’t decided yet but she wondered what the aftermath of her choice would be. Would she choose to leave or stay? Whatever it may be, it meant Terra would have to contend with the other. Maybe the reason this was troubling her so much was because a part of her deep down was afraid of losing the two people she considered to be her best friends.

     She knew she had nothing to be scared of yet she worried all the same. It wasn’t like the bonds she shared with Ven and Terra were so weak, they’d break upon setting foot outside their home. Their strength would remain steadfast, even if the three of them were far apart from each other. She just needed to remind herself of that whenever she was lost in her thoughts.

     The last glass piece was painted and she put it beside the others to dry. With that out of the way, the next thing to do would be setting the five glass pieces into place and soldering them to the frame so they wouldn’t fall out when she held the Wayfinder facing up. It was too late to do it tonight but she would get straight to it after her training tomorrow.

     She glanced over to where the other two Wayfinders were sitting. She stood up from her desk, reached her hand out to grab them, and sat back down. They shone brilliantly under the golden light pouring in from her window. A lot’s happened over the last few years.

     She never thought Eraqus would take in another apprentice but it was at the behest of an old friend so that’s how Ventus came into the picture. Fragile was the best word to describe him when they first met, like he could collapse at any moment. It fit him even more when he actually did from Terra’s bombardment of questions, falling into an almost come-like state for several days. Her skepticism as to whether he was capable of becoming a Keyblade Master only grew when Eraqus said he was amnesiac and that was why he fainted. How could someone like him become Master when he was so weak, for lack of a better term?

     Yet he managed to prove her wrong. The more time he spent with the two of them, the stronger he got, to the point he was able to keep up with them in battle. He wasn’t as powerful as Terra or as magically gifted as her but he made up for it with swiftness and sheer tenacity. The only reason he wasn’t taking the Mark of Mastery exam along with them was because of his age, though she believed it was also due to him needing to outgrow some things, like his rebellious streak for example. He’d be a great Keyblade Master one day, she was sure of it.

     Terra’s changed so much over the years. He was no longer a child struggling to keep his head above water as he flailed his Keyblade about. He’s grown into a strong and capable man she was proud to call her friend and rival. He’d be her fellow Master in due time as well and then they’d stand together to protect both theirs and many other worlds from Heartless someday. At least, that’s what she envisioned before things somehow became different between them.

     She couldn’t quite explain what changed between her and Terra. It wasn’t like the way they interacted with each other was different from normal. They still met up every day to talk and train so that couldn’t be it. The only thing she noticed was…well, things she had never really noticed from him before. Not that they were never there but they were only starting to make themselves known to her.

     Before Ven, she’d only seen three sides to Terra. The dutiful pupil to their master, the reliable confidant to her, and the introspective self-doubter when he thought he was alone. It was only after Ven entered their circle she saw the kind and protective side of him, almost like he was an older brother to him. She always knew those qualities existed within him but it was different seeing them in action to someone other than her. It’s only now she’s really acknowledged them.

     He was still her friend but there was a deeper meaning now. Her feelings towards him were different than her feelings towards Ven and maybe that was because she’s known him practically all her life as opposed to the four years for Ven. Maybe all this was was her growing up and becoming an adult, which meant changing feelings and realizing that things were going to be different for her now, whether she liked it or not. Throw in the anxiety of potentially drifting away from him and she was left with a jumbled up mess of complications she struggled to put a label on.

     All this was doing was giving her a headache. She should be focusing on the road ahead instead of thinking herself into a corner and letting her mind run wild. She’s so close to accomplishing her dream and she couldn’t risk anything jeopardizing it. Whatever answers she wanted, she’d find them after becoming Master.

     She looked down at the Wayfinders still held in her hands and pressed them close to her chest. She let out a heavy sigh as she tried to calm herself. Different was new but it didn’t have to be bad. Change was a part of everyone’s lives and she and Terra were no exceptions.

     Things may be different between them but it didn’t mean they were bad. It could mean they were good and she just couldn’t see how yet. As long as they were together, nothing truly bad would happen. That’s what she hoped.

     Aqua sat at the end of the dock, watching the sun set over the horizon. A warm, pleasant breeze was blowing through, carrying with it the strong scent of salt. She could hear the ocean’s waves rolling along the sandy shore and leaves from the trees behind her rustling. This was everything she imagined a beach to be like. The only things missing from it were Terra and Ven.

     The Destiny Islands was what this world was called. She only stopped by with the intention of taking a short rest but it was after reality began to sink in she had to give herself something more than that. She needed a moment where she could think clearly, decompress, and just breathe. She needed this before going back out there and starting the whole process over again. That’s where she was now.

     Where did it all go wrong? She finally managed to achieve her dream of becoming a Keyblade Master but it felt like a hollow victory when it turned out Terra failed the exam on account of his Darkness flaring up again. Then she was asked by their master to keep an eye on him in case he strayed too close to darkness, which she didn’t agree with but knew it was out of concern for him so she followed. It was through that she learned of the questionable acts seemingly committed by Terra and it caused her to doubt him and his resolve. When she met up with him and Ven at Radiant Garden and she revealed the truth of her being there, their trust in her was shattered.

     Then she found out Ven was being hunted down by a masked boy, who had ties to Master Xehanort. He’d been pulling strings behind the scenes and he was dragging Terra along for the ride. An encounter with the masked boy in Neverland left her exhausted yet she still trudged on before arriving here. All she was trying to do was make things right so why did it turn out like this?

     Maybe she wasn’t cut out to be a Master. They were supposed to keep the balance between light and dark, protect the worlds from malevolent forces. If she couldn’t even protect her best friends, the two people she treasured above all else, then what good was she? Eraqus was wrong in making her a Master, much less his successor. She never should have become one.

     She took out her Wayfinder and just held it. The orange hue of the sunset washed away the once vibrant blue into something dull and dark. Her heart grew heavier the longer she looked at it, running her thumb over the token in the center. Nothing would drive them apart, huh?

     It was never that she thought of Ven as weak or doubted his capabilities. It was never, ever that. She just wanted him to be safe, to be unharmed because she knew she couldn’t always be there to save him. There was a part of her that still viewed him as the fragile boy she first met who fell comatose from one too many questions. Sure, he’s grown much stronger since then, but she felt the need to protect him regardless. He was her dear friend and she wouldn’t know how to live with herself if he got hurt and she wasn’t there to help him. She’d rather have him hate her for being overbearing than risk losing him because she wasn’t cautious.

     She wished she could express how sorry she was to Terra. She vouched for him to Eraqus, swearing he was strong enough to resist the dark temptations, yet hearsay was all it took for her to lose faith in him. Xehanort’s machinations framed him as someone he wasn’t and she fell for it so easily. It honestly pissed her off that he was manipulating and taking advantage of Terra and his trusting nature. While he wasn’t exactly innocent in this, it was clear as to who the real mastermind was. She wanted so badly to apologize to him, to tell him she should never have doubted him.

     Her grip on the Wayfinder tightened as she felt her eyes beginning to burn. Did they have theirs still, she wondered. She wanted to believe they did but was it childishly naive of her to cling to that narrow hope?

     She was a horrible friend to them. She caused one to lose faith in her and she may as well have betrayed the other. She may have pushed Ven too far away for him to come back and drove Terra further into the darkness. She wouldn’t fault them for wanting nothing to do with her anymore. She wouldn’t, either, if the roles were reversed. Were their bonds now severed?

     No, they couldn’t be. The magic she placed on each of their Wayfinders was still active and she could still feel Terra and Ven’s hearts through hers. That had to be her silver lining in this. Even if the cord connecting the three of them together frayed till it was only a thread, that thread was unbreakable.

     She needed to protect them. She couldn’t let Xehanort and that masked boy do whatever they wanted with them. They wouldn’t hesitate to save her if she were in the same position so she shouldn’t, either. They were precious to her, she’d do anything, even give her life, if it meant they’d be safe.

     She stood up from the dock, Wayfinder still in her hand, and looked up at the now starry sky. She didn’t know where they were but she didn’t need to. Her heart was going to be her guiding key.

     They needn’t worry much longer. She was going to find them and the three of them were going to stop whatever Xehanort had planned. Then they would share one more night under the stars, like they had all that time ago.

     May they find a way to each other once more.

     Aqua watched on in horror as the man in front of her stabbed his Keyblade into his chest. She wanted to cry out his name but she couldn’t find the strength within her to do so, having thoroughly exhausted herself from their fight earlier. His body went slack, his Keyblade vanishing into thin air, as a portal of swirling darkness opened beneath him. He fell back and, quickly realizing where it led to, she dove in after him.

     She had to save him. It may not have been Terra, not completely, but his heart was still in his body, she just knew it. Why else would he have let her go when he was so close to finishing her off? She couldn’t leave him to wander in the Realm of Darkness for all eternity. Even if it meant bringing Xehanort back, she’d never forgive herself for doing that to him if he was still in there. She made him a promise and she was damn well going to keep it.

     The first thing she noticed was how cold it was. It wasn’t freezing but it was still too chilly for her liking, evident from her shivering. She felt like she was stuck in an empty black void as she searched around for any sign of Terra. She was eventually able to find a dim light just a few meters below her, a light she recognized as his. Summoning her Keyblade, she changed its form to that of her Glider and raced towards the light, not once taking her eyes off it.

     It didn’t take long to reach him. The light grew dimmer and dimmer the closer she got before dimming completely upon seeing him. He looked to be just sleeping, even when he was plummeting straight down to what she considered to be hell. She grabbed onto his arm and struggled to lift him onto her Glider, only managing to accomplish that feat by sheer force of will. Giving him a quick once-over revealed no visible wounds and he seemed to be breathing normally. Relieved that he was physically all right, she turned the Glider around and began heading back up.

     She had him and he was going to be okay. They would be back in Radiant Garden soon and she was going to fix him. She and whoever else could help her were going to find a way to get Xehanort’s heart out of him. Then she and him would go home and wake Ven up, like she said they would. They’d be together again. Their master may be gone now but they’d have each other to lean on and support. The hope of them being reunited again was the only thing keeping her going at this point. After everything that’s happened, she needed this to come true. She almost wanted to pray to whatever power there be to grant her wish, to give her this.

     Well, a deity or some other higher being there was heard her and sneered. Her heart dropped once she saw the portal they came in from starting to close. They were still so far away and it was shrinking with each passing second. It would be gone by the time they reached it, leaving them stuck in the Realm of Darkness with no way out. She looked over at Terra’s unconscious form and, knowing what had to be done, made her choice without any hesitation.

     That was when it hit her. She finally found her answer and she wanted to scold herself for taking so long to realize it. She finally knew what Terra was to her and it was so easy, so simple to understand that there was really no excuse. He wasn’t just a friend to her, he was more than that, he deepened beyond that. It was only natural, in some ways, for her to have fallen for him.

     She loved him. She loved everything about him, from his ability to want to see the good in people to his devotion to her and Ven. She can scarcely remember a life where he wasn’t a part of it nor did she want such a life. He was irreplaceable, someone she confided in, a man she could talk to about anything without fear of judgment. He was her rock, her dearly beloved. She loved him, which was why she was able to decide on her fate with little regret.

     She was going to take his place. Her promise came out of a love different from what it was now but she planned to uphold it all the same. Her love for Terra was stronger than her hatred of the man possessing him and she couldn’t bear to leave him behind to die in a hellish wasteland. It only hurt to know she wouldn’t be there to help guide him back home, to her and Ven.

     She disembarked from her Glider and went around to the side. Terra appeared to be holding onto the handles somewhat, which seemed to be the only reason he was staying on it instead of falling. She brushed the back of her hand against his cheek before resting it on his, giving it a gentle squeeze. She was going to miss him when she was gone but this was for the best.

     “We’ll meet again someday.” She squeezed his hand again. “Even if so much time has passed, we’ll meet again.” She was giving both him and herself false hope. “I’ll always be with you, okay?” She didn’t believe she would find a way out. “Goodbye, Terra.”

     Then she let go and began falling. She didn’t take her eyes off him once as she fell, even when it became too dark for her to see him clearly. She wanted him to be the last thing she saw if she were to possibly die in the next few moments. She only wished she could’ve amended things between her, Terra, and Ven before their grand battle in the Keyblade Graveyard but she was resigned to contend with this. She’d be okay with taking that regret to her grave.

     Tears rolled down her cheeks but she smiled through them. She saved him from a fate of wandering the dark realm alone. She hoped Terra would win out in his fight against Xehanort and reclaim his body as the image of him finally disappeared from her sight. Maybe, just maybe, they’d meet again in the next life.

     She closed her eyes as she let the darkness overtake her. It was then she heard herself say those three little words that carried with them so much meaning. Whether she said them aloud or she only imagined she did, it didn’t matter. All she wanted was for those words to reach Terra’s heart, to let him know why she did what she did. That was her last thought before succumbing to the cold.

     “I love you.”

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 14: To The Boy Next Door

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Stay Mine)

…in which they play a game.

Word count: 4.7k

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Wattpad link (Thea as Y/N)

ANNOUNCEMENT: The last chapter was supposed to be released on July 1, BUT I have two final exams on that same week, so I’ll have no choice but to move the schedule forward.

Last My Girl update: July 8, 2020. (July 3: Tumblr preview and full chapter on Patreon).

.

.

.

One year later

“Come in.”

When Asher entered the room, Gemma almost didn’t recognize him. He’d got a beard now, and he wasn’t wearing a suit. If she hadn’t known the charming Asher in the past, she would be so shocked to find out he was the CEO’s son. Too bad she didn’t care enough to wonder what had happened to him after his business had gone bankrupt because his father had refused to finance it. Now he was just a regular accountant.

His eyes went wide when he saw her sitting with his dad in the CEO office.

Hello, Asher, she thought, yet gave him nothing but a polite nod as if they were meeting for the first time.

“Asher, I suppose you remember Gemma?” asked his father with a sigh.

“Yes,” Asher mumbled, his gaze falling to the floor.

Of course he remembered her. Abusers always remembered their victims.

His dad looked from him back to Gemma. Hands folded on the desk, he said, “Gemma is our new COO. I hope you will have no trouble working for her.”

Asher’s head jerked up as if he’d just heard a gunshot. And Gemma, of course, was the one holding the gun.

She relished his astonishment and cracked a smile as she rose from her seat and walked toward him. She extended her hand, but he didn’t take it.

“Working for her?” he asked his dad, who replied with a stern expression.

“Yes. She’s your new boss.”

Gemma broke into a smirk, still holding out her hand in the space between them. Asher’s eyes had grown so big they nearly took over his entire face. “You,” he hissed at her, “I can't believe you weaselled your way into this company.”

“Oh, no.” Gemma frowned pretentiously and dropped her hand down to her side. “I’ve been a shareholder for almost a year. I’ve done more for this company in that short amount of time than you have your whole life.”

He thinned his lips and glared at her, unable to muster a single word.

She hated him but respected his father. And what was better as revenge than making sure she took everything he wanted? First, his father’s affection. Soon, his father’s company.

“I don’t want to make this unpleasant for you, Asher,” her voice dropped so low as she leaned in so only the two of them could hear. “Or maybe I do. So you better be a nice employee, because I wouldn't be sorry to kick you out of here.”

His face dimmed as she stepped away. If there was a camera, she’d take a picture and put it in a frame. Though she doubted this would be the last time she got to see that defeated look on his face.

"See you around, Ash," she said, placing a hand on her hip as she breezed right past him out of the room.

Two interns, a blonde and a dark-skinned girl, rose from their cubicles and rushed up to her as she was heading for the lift.

“Excuse me,” the blonde said timidly. “Are you...our new COO?”

“Y-Yes, yes, I am.” Gemma worked up a smile and the girls giggled to each other like teenagers.

“Congratulations and welcome!” said the dark-skinned one, who said her name was Marie and her friend was Claria. Gemma assumed they were going to fangirl about her brother, but then Marie said, “We love your sister-in-law’s book. We’re such big big fans.”

It took Gemma a second. “Y/N? She and Harry aren’t–”

“Future sister-in-law,” Claria corrected her friend, looking nervously from Marie back to Gemma. “We’ve...heard some rumours. Can you confirm or deny it?”

“I cannot. But I’ll let her know about you girls.”

The girls grinned like the Cheshire Cat, and Gemma could tell they were trying their best not to freak out. She waved them goodbye and hastened into the lift before the door closed.

Her phone buzzed with a new text.

Isey: Lunch? :)

Lunch :) she replied, biting back a grin.

Another notification popped up. A reply from Harry's girl. Gemma rolled her eyes as she remembered lending Harry her phone a couple of weeks ago. He'd changed most names in her contacts and she'd only managed to change back a few of them.

Harry's girl: Thanks for the birthday wish, Gem! (heart emoji)

You're welcome! Is Harry coming home today?

Harry's girl: I hope not. But idk.

We never know. How can you STAND him? Ugh.

Harry's girl: I can't lol.

Harry's girl: Anyway, what was his reaction?

Gemma knew right away whom Y/N was talking about.

Priceless, she responded.

Harry's girl: QUEEN. Make his life a living hell.

Oh I will. Certainly.

The door slid open with a ding, and Gemma tucked the phone into her bag. Her assistant was waiting outside to direct her to her new office. With a smile on her face, she stepped out of the lift and shook the assistant's hand.

She was so ready for this new beginning.

.

.

.

“Good aaaaaafternoon, girlfriend! Are you feeling twenty-two?”

Y/N laughed hoarsely as she blinked a few times to let her vision get used to the light from the windows opposite the bed. “You’re embarrassing,” she said, yawning.

On the phone, Harry gasped. “Did you just wake up?!”

“I stayed up all night talking to you and had a zoom meeting with Laura this morning. Besides, it’s Sunday.”

“It’s your birthday.”

“Duh.” She grinned at the ceiling and exhaled. “I’m twenty-two now. I’m like...old.”

“Ouch. Well, aren’t you supposed to get ready for the book signing?”

“Book signing is tomorrow. Bad boyfriend.”

The sound of his laugh made her heart leap. She missed him so much. He’d been in New York for two weeks and wouldn’t be back until next Thursday, which meant she’d have to spend this birthday without him. She wasn’t sure if she should let him know she wished he were here. She really did. But she also didn’t want him to drop everything and fly back to her for only one night. He’d done that before and it'd been romantic, still, she never wanted him to do it again.

“To prove that I’m not a bad boyfriend,” he said, snapping her back to the moment. “I have a surprise for you.”

She sat up straight and whipped her head to the door. “Goddamn it, Harry,” she huffed, “if you tell me you’re standing right outside–”

“No!” He burst out laughing. “No, no, no, I’m still in New York.”

She sighed in relief, but couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed.

“My surprise is in the pocket of my favourite suit,” he said.

She had no idea what he might have up his sleeves (quite literally). Still, she rolled out of bed, shoved her feet into her slippers, and padded out of the room.

Two years ago on this same day, he’d brought her to the roof of an abandoned building, where they’d watched the night city and eaten his homemade cupcakes. On her twenty-first birthday, they hadn’t been talking. And so this year, she’d suspected that he must have planned something extravagant to surprise her, even though he wasn’t home to celebrate with her. The surprise had come a bit earlier than expected.

She switched on the light in the walk-in closet, which was as large as her old flat. His favourite suit was the one he’d worn on Grammy’s night. Sparkling dark velvet to match the aesthetic of her silvery mermaid gown, which, unfortunately, she hadn’t got a chance to show off to the world.

She stuck her hand into the breast pocket of the jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Found it."

“Go on. Read it,” he encouraged.

“If it says ‘Happy Birthday, smiley face’, I’ll strangle you when you come back.”

A laugh burst right through him. “Your choking kink is getting out of hand, babe.”

“Shut up.” She huffed, unfolding the note. “Should have said I loved you,” she read aloud. “What does that mean?”

“You can ask for my help only once. Call me when you’ve found the fifth clue.”

“Wait!”

But he’d already hung up.

She almost called him back but then decided not to. She didn't want to waste her only chance to ask for help.

Classic treasure hunt, she thought, rereading the sentence.

The prize would be her birthday present for sure. Maybe he’d hidden it in the wood somewhere. A normal boyfriend would just have the birthday present delivered, or leave it on the table or in the garage, not challenge his girlfriend’s two only active brain cells with a children’s game. But Y/N wasn’t a normal girlfriend. And as much as she hated working for something other than her writing, a part of her was excited.

“Should have said I loved you,” she thought out loud, then snapped her fingers and rushed across the hallway to his library.

Two years ago, she’d told him she’d loved him for the first time and received silence in return. In this very room, he’d watched her leave.

She stood in front of the giant bookcase, which he’d had installed a month after she’d officially moved in. Most of these books were from her collection. On a shelf in the middle stood three framed photos of them. Them in Paris. Them with their families on a vacation last summer. Them at her graduation.

She flipped each frame over to check the back, but none had what she was looking for. She tapped her foot impatiently on the carpet while assessing the rest of the bookcase. It didn’t take her too long to notice that one book was upside down.

P.S. I Love You by Cecelia Ahern.

Of course. Of-fucking-course.

She rolled her eyes, feeling a smile stretching her lips as she took the book from the shelf and opened it to the first page. There was a post-it note that said:

Congrats, babe. You’ve found it. Next clue: Where the magic happens ;)

‘Where the magic happens.’ If it wasn’t sexual, the winky face had made sure that it was.

Could it be their bed? Nope. She'd slept there last night.

Could it be the first place they’d had sex?

Could the next clue be inside that car?

She jolted with a start and dashed out of the library, and as soon as she reached the stairs, she suddenly halted.

No. She didn’t remember which car they’d had sex in for the first time, and he’d got a whole collection of cars. It’d take forever to search every single one. That wasn’t the right answer.

Sighing, she stood on the first stair and contemplated the clue again.

They used to play Treasure Hunt when they were younger. There were usually at least five or six clues, and the first three should be easy.

Could it be her flat? Most of their ‘secret relationship’ had happened in her flat. It used to be their secret kingdom. Impenetrable. Disconnected to the outside world. They’d also had their second real kiss outside her door, and she still had until the end of this month before she must return the keys to the landlord.

She wasn’t sure, and she wasn’t going to drive all the way there just to find out she was wrong.

And so she decided to call him.

“Let me guess,” he said as soon as the beeping stopped. “You’re either super impatient or your fairy godmother appeared and helped you find all five clues.”

She rolled her eyes. “Third clue. Is it your car or my flat?”

“My car?” He sounded confused, which gave her the impression that she might have got it wrong.

Her cheeks burnt as she said, “We had sex for the first time in your car.”

“No, not my car, but damn, I should have thought of that.”

“So it’s my flat?”

“Are you sure you want to ask me now?”

“Yes.”

“Yes,” he smugly confirmed. “It’s your flat. Now you’re on your own until the final clue.”

“Fuck,” she grunted and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I thought you’d have trouble with this one, too. I mean, we fuck everywhere these days.”

“If my birthday present isn’t worth all this, we won’t be fucking ever again.”

He gasped at the threat, and she could picture him wearing that stupid crooked smile as he told her, “Good luck, kid. I believe in you.”

.

.

.

She found the next clue on Thumper’s lap.

When she’d moved most of her furniture to Harry’s house, she’d forgotten to take the purple stuffed bunny with her. She held it under her arm and scrutinized the pink post-it note, which said:

I cannot believe you left Thumper behind. Third clue: Drunk little deer.

“Drunk little deer? What does that even mean?” Then she looked at Thumper. “Should I kick him in the balls when I see him?”

She made the rabbit nod and burst out laughing at how crazy she sounded. If anyone walked in and saw her talking to a stuffed animal, they would assume she was either crazy or drunk.

Drunk.

She was the drunk little deer. Drunk Bambi.

The answer was the place he'd seen her drunk for the first time.

.

.

.

Andrew recognized Y/N right from the moment she stepped into the pub. He leaned over the counter and shouted for everyone to hear, “Little girl! Good to see you again!”

“Andrew," she smiled and shouldered her way towards the bar.

He eyed her up and down as she slid onto one of the stools. “You look different. I hope you’re not here to drink again. I might have to kick you out.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You look different, too. I like your new hair.”

Andrew rubbed his shiny bald head, scowling at her as she raised a smile and rested her chin on her knuckles. Andrew might look intimidating, especially now without his hair, but he was one of the softest people she’d ever met. He’d been so kind to her during her tough times and even let her haunt his pub day and night until Harry had come for the rescue.

“You’re kind of famous now, aren’t you?” Andrew said. “I’ve read your book. It didn’t suck.”

“You have?”

He lifted one giant shoulder of his, pursing his lips. “My wife made me. She's a big fan. Your boyfriend came two weeks ago and he even signed the book for her. He said he was the one in the story.”

“My boyfriend was here?”

Andrew gave a nod.

The voices in Y/N's head started cheering like she’d just won a wrestling match. It would have been so embarrassing if she'd asked Andrew first and then found out she'd got it wrong.

“Well, did he leave...something for me? A message perhaps?”

Andrew growled as he turned away, and without a word, disappeared through a stained curtain behind him. He came back five minutes later and handed her a green post-it note with an unreadable grimace on his face.

She snatched it immediately. A laugh crackled out of her as if he’d just given her gold.

Hi babe, you’re almost there! My biggest fans (not you) have the final clue. Get back to work.

“He gave this to me when he signed the book,” Andrew said.

Y/N mumbled the words over as she tried to figure them out. Her first guess for ‘biggest fans (not you)’was Gemma and Isaac. But then she got rid of the idea because they had to be at the same place at the same time in order for this to work, and Gem and Isaac were both at work.

Which two people were together right now and were also Harry’s biggest fans?

‘Get back to work.’

Yes. That’s it!

Y/N thrust the post-it note into her bag and rose from the stool. “I’m sorry. This must be weird to you.”

“It’s quite romantic, actually," Andrew said.

“Really?”

“And weird. You two are both weird. What a perfect couple.”

“Gee, thanks.”

As she spun on her heels, Andrew called after her, “Hey, little girl. I’m sorry I said you weren’t a real writer.”

“You said that?”

“You were drunk,” he chuckled. “Anyway, bring your weird boyfriend back sometimes.”

“I will. If there’s free beer.”

“Get out of here.” He shot his finger toward the door, but it was the first time she’d seen Andrew smile with his whole face.

.

.

.

Eddie’s bookshop was busy on most Sundays. Well, it had been busy almost every day since Y/N had credited him in her latest best-selling debut novel.

She entered the shop and was immediately recognized by a group of schoolgirls, who asked her to sign their new copies of her book and questioned her about the story. She recycled the same amiable answers that didn’t give away any more than what they might already know. Since she’d already got used to the attention, the fans didn’t intimidate her anymore.

She took a selfie with the girls and bid them goodbye. Then one of the new employees told her that Eddie and Alice were sorting books at the back. She wandered along aisles until she found them. Eddie was scolding Alice for putting hardcovers in between paperbacks. Nothing got on Eddie’s nerves as much as putting hardcovers in between paperbacks.

“The hardcovers take more shelf-space so you cannot put them there! God, Alice, were you drunk when you were sorting these books?”

“I wish I were drunk now,” Alice said, and her eyes lit up as she saw Y/N. She nearly tackled Y/N to the floor with a violent hug, and Y/N returned with half as much enthusiasm.

“You’re like a Golden Retriever,” Y/N said, pulling back and cupping her friend’s face.

“Happy birthday! I was gonna send you–”

Eddie didn’t wait for Alice to finish as he pushed her aside to step forward, his face brightened like the sun. “You’re here for the clue, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I–”

“We can’t just hand it to you.” That sun-like face suddenly turned serious. “You need a password. What is Harry’s favourite book?”

Y/N arched an eyebrow at Eddie as if expecting him to say ‘gotcha!’ But he only mirrored her expression as he crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for an answer.

“Seriously?” Y/N scoffed, looking at her two friends. “He’s that narcissistic?”

Alice smirked as she raised a shoulder. “Either you answer or search this entire bookshop yourself.”

“I fucking hate him and I fucking hate both of you.” Y/N rolled her eyes upward and exhaled sharply. “Norwegian Wood.”

“Huh?”

“That’s his favourite book,” she told Alice and remembered Alice didn’t read fiction unless it was compulsory. “Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami.”

Eddie looked confused. “He loves Haruki Murakami? His books are misogynistic.”

“Harry’s got a bad taste in authors. But judging from your reactions, I suppose that is not the correct answer, and I should probably break up with my boyfriend because I don’t know what his favourite book is.”

“You do, Y/N.” Alice beamed as she leaned a shoulder against the bookcase. “You’re thinking too big. It’s pretty simple.”

“Shit. Is it my book?” Y/N asked, then pinched the bridge of her nose as Eddie began to smile. “Goddamn it, he’s like my dad times ten.”

“What did your dad do?” Eddie asked.

“He bought a bunch of copies of my book and sent them to our relatives for Christmas. It was pretty embarrassing.”

“Aww.”

“ALICE!”

“Jesus Christ!” Alice covered her ears as she shot Eddie a glare. “I’m standing right next to you.”

“Go get the clue!” Eddie flicked his fingers at her. “Go! Hurry!”

Alice rolled her eyes and flipped him off as she backed out of the aisle. Eddie ignored her and turned back to Y/N, grinning from ear to ear like he was the birthday girl. “Are you excited?”

“Not as much as you are. That’s for sure,” Y/N said and made sure he knew she was joking by giving him a toothy grin.

“I’m not gonna tell you what the surprise is, you know.”

“I’m not asking.”

Eddie’s laugh was high as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “What I can tell you is that you’re gonna love it. Too bad I cannot be there to see your reaction.”

“Trust me,” she said. “You don’t wanna see me scold Harry through the phone.”

Alice returned with a copy of My Girl and handed it to Y/N with a smile that possibly meant, ‘You’re gonna love this’.

Suspicious and somewhat elated, Y/N opened the book to the dedication page.

To Mum, Dad, and the boy next door.

Those were her words. Below was his handwriting: Hi my love :)

Curious, she turned to the first chapter. This wasn’t just another copy of her book, of which she’d got all the different covers at home. With this one, Harry had done the same thing he’d done to her journal. His handwriting was scattered across the pages. He’d underlined all the quotes he’d enjoyed and left comments about them on the side.

Y/N heard Eddie say something about how he would never write in books and Alice immediately shush him for being rude. Y/N never wrote in books, either, but she loved reading Harry’s handwritten notes. It felt like he was reading the story with her. The butterflies in her stomach went wild just from imagining him taking his time writing on each page and grinning at his own jokes. If this was the birthday surprise, she could not ask for anything more.

However, she knew he had to be more extra than this.

And there it was. Proof that this was not the surprise. On the very last page, he wrote:

Meet me where the sky meets the earth.

“Where the sky meets the earth?” she thought out loud and glanced up at Eddie, who responded with a shrug. Alice did, too. Y/N didn’t think they were lying. Harry must have told them what the surprise was, but not the answers to these cryptic messages.

Eddie patted her on the back as he wished her good luck and shooed Alice back to the front to assist the customers. Y/N was left behind to work it out on her own. She leaned against the bookcase, pondering over the words.

Hadn’t Harry said she was allowed to call him when she reached the fifth clue?

She tucked the book under her arm and pulled out the phone from the pocket of her jeans.

“Hi, babe!”

“I’ve got the fifth clue,” she blurted. “What do I do now?”

“I don’t know. Solve it?”

“Yes, smartarse. The answer is, I don’t know.”

“You’re not even thinking.”

“You said you’d help me!”

“I said I’d help you once,” he countered. “And I did. I told you to call me just so I know when you’ve reached the final clue.”

“So you’re not gonna help me with this one?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Well, I can give you a hint. What do all the places you’ve visited today have in common?”

She chewed on her lip, an arm folded over her chest. “They’re memories,” she whispered.

“That’s right,” he whispered back, like they didn’t want anyone to overhear their conversation. “This last place is a memory as well. Where the sky meets the earth. Think, kid.”

She pouted. “Can I please get another hint?”

“You don’t get to talk in a cute voice and manipulate me, Bambi,” he sighed. “Fine. Our first date.”

“Holmes Chapel?!”

He said nothing and hung up.

It took Y/N a few seconds, but she believed she’d got the answer.

.

.

.

She took the lift and climbed four sets of stairs to the roof.

Adrenaline buzzed right through her, causing her hands to shake and her heart to pound against her ribcage. The metal was cold against her fingertips as she pawed the heavy door open slowly. It was unlocked.

The cold wind gushed in, blowing her hair out of her face as she stepped into the night. The city of London gleamed before her eyes. Where the sky meets the earth. This was where they could see stars high above and down below.

And there he was. Waiting for her with that smug crooked grin on his stupid face.

“Hi,” he said.

Oh, how she’d missed his stupid beautiful face.

She tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket and ambled forward, still thinking him being here was too good to be true.

He lifted both hands like a surrendered criminal, both eyebrows raised as he said, “Before you get angry, I can explain.”

“Please do,” she demanded but found herself smiling.

With the wind in his hair, dimples on his cheeks and city light in his eyes, he looked absolutely breathtaking. She couldn’t hate him even if she tried.

Harry exhaled unsteadily through his mouth before mumbling, “Here I go,” and then he was on his knee in front of her.

She didn’t react when he took her cold hand and pressed it against his warm chest. She could feel his heart beating almost in sync with her own.

“Are you surprised?” he asked, chuckling nervously.

She exhaled a quiet laugh and said, “Yes, but also no.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Because I warned you this would happen?”

“Because you warned me this would happen.” Her mouth curved at the corner as she recalled the Oscar night in his LA house, both of them drunk, him on his knee like this, a promise, and how in love she’d felt, almost as much as she did in this very moment.

“Is this too early or too late?” he ventured.

“This is perfect.”

She pressed her lips into a smile, and his green eyes flickered in the semi-darkness. “Well then.” He straightened his back. “Y/N ‘Bambi’ Y/L/N.”

“Yes.” Her voice was so brittle she feared he wouldn’t hear it, her stomach twisted into triple knots, her chest fluttering and her fingers trembling.

He held her gaze as the corner of his mouth arched. “Will you…”

“I swear to God if you’re jok–”

“Marry me,” he blurted, panting as though saying those words had drained all the energy out of him. “Marry me. I want to annoy you for the rest of my life. I want every fight, every laugh, every up and down, every kiss, every touch, everything about you. I will love you until all my teeth fall out, until you finally learn to cook–”

“I’ll never learn to cook.”

“I know,” he chuckled. “Most importantly, I’ll even let you love young Leo a bit more than me, but only sometimes.”

She covered her mouth. What meant to be a laugh came out as a sob.

“I would have written a speech, but I figured you’d roast me for my bad writing, so I’d rather improvise and blame this awful proposal on it being improvised.”

“God, you’re fucking annoying,” she laughed tearily into her hand and he was laughing, too.

Quickly, he got to his feet and tugged her into him. She circled her arms around his waist, her face buried into his chest as she inhaled the scent she’d missed achingly in the last two weeks.

“My girl is such a crybaby,” he said, kissing the top of her head, her temple, her ear, her cheek, her forehead. He kissed and held her until she’d calmed down.

“Yes,” she told him at last, lifting her eyes up to his.

“Yes, you’re a crybaby?”

“Yes, you’re a dumbarse and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life roasting you and yes, I’ll sometimes love young Leo more than you but only sometimes, because you’re the greatest love of my life and I cannot imagine a life without you–”

He stopped her with his lips, his hands tenderly cupping her face as his thumbs moved slowly over her chin, cheeks and jawlines. She’d imagined that their first kiss after two weeks apart would be sexually aggressive and against-the-wall hot, but this kiss was slow and sensual and passionate and full of wanting. It felt like his promise for their future together. One that would last.

[waywardfangirl]

Both @captain-aralias and @palimpsessed ​did really nice posts to share their fics from this year as well as their thoughts on what they wrote, and I enjoyed reading their posts (and their fics!) so much that I thought I would take them up on their open invitation to do one too! I’m a big believer in keeping lists of your accomplishments to look at on days when self-doubt creeps in, so I encourage anyone else who might be interested to do this too! (All the questions are copied from @captain-aralias)

List of Completed Fics this year:

I wrote ten fics this year, as well as starting a ton of WIPs, which is amazing to me, considering I have only written fic once before in my life!

Slow - General, 3k

We’re Not in Genovia Anymore - Teen, 28k

Promises - General, 3k

A Privilege to Love You - Teen, 7k

Early Riser - General, >1k

Write This Down - General, 3k

As You Wish - Teen, 13k

The View from the Veranda - General, 4k

Down By The Sea - General, 2k

Just Want You to Know Who I Am - General, 1k (written in 2020, posted in 2021)

Total: 10 fics, 67k words, 100% Snowbaz

Pretty good for what is truly the first year that I have been an active participant in fandom!

Questions answered below the cut.

Best/worst title?

A Privilege to Love You is my favorite title, because I think the line is just so sweet, and it makes my heart melt.

We’re Not in Genovia Anymore is definitely my worst title, because that was just the placeholder name I gave the WIP, but then I got so used to it I forgot to change it to something better before posting. I still cringe a bit at that one.

Best/worst summary?

l am horrifically indecisive, so I have a few summaries that I like. Just Want You To Know Who I Am is short and sweet, and I think it conveys exactly what I want it to:

Baz is fine. He's fine. Everything is fine. (It just isn't.)

~A fic about being loved in all the little ways~

But I also really liked the quotes I pulled for The View from the Veranda, As You Wish, and A Privilege to Love You.

Early Riser also has a summary that I let break my heart:

Baz wakes up early now, even though Simon doesn’t.

I does very little to convey what the fic is about, but after reading the fic it hurts like I wanted it to, sooo.....

I think that Promises has the worst summary though:

Inspired by the song "Promises" from the musical Hadestown.

Simon and Baz have spent the last three years working on themselves and on their relationship. Now it's time for their next step together.

Best/worst first line?

Baz says it best to open The View from the Veranda:

I am not a man accustomed to enduring want.

However, Simon deserves an honorable mention for starting us off right in As You Wish:

Baz is such a prick.

As for worst opening lines, I don’t really think I have any. I have some that stand better as an opening paragraph than an opening line, but I place a lot of importance on the first line of a story, so I like to make sure all mine are strong.

Best/worst last line?

I am not going to spoil any last lines for anyone (I cover up the last page of books when I read to reveal it slowly, word by word, so I take last lines seriously!), but I will say that As You Wish has an adorably predictable last line that I love.

For worst last line, I have to say Slow. I liked the line itself when I wrote it, but then I learned later that people were interpreting it in a more steamy way than what I had intended, and because I feel like Slow is such an innocent fic and really highlights how important it is for Simon to not be rushed into every decision he makes, I don’t like that it sounds like he and Baz rushed into something else. (I just meant that they talked and maybe kissed a bit! That’s it!)

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

On December 31st, 2019, I was pet sitting when I came across a prompt for a Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement Snowbaz AU. I impulsively started to write, even though I had only written one other fic in my life (Check, Please!), and I had never written Snowbaz before. I kind of thought that maybe I would write one fic and that would be all, and that maybe one fic is all I would ever write, but I am so happy to have been wrong about that! I wrote way more than I could have predicted, and I even did NaNoWriMo! (I failed NaNoWriMo too, and I’m okay with that, because I want writing to be something I do for fun, not something that stresses me out.)

As a fun side note, Carry On is a fandom that I have returned to many times in my life, and it seems to have a special place on New Year’s Eve/New Year’s Day for me. I was given Fangirl as a Christmas present, and started reading it on New Year’s Eve, only to finish it and realize that the new year had arrived while I was engrossed in the book. I have spent multiple New Year’s Eves since engrossed in a reread of the book, or reading fic, and so it feels really fitting that I got into properly writing fic for Carry On as the year turned over.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

Literally all of this was unexpected, as I never planned on writing any more fic, but I think I am most surprised to have written multiple songfics. I never read many songfics, and didn’t often care for them, but I wrote Promises off of the song from Hadestown, Write This Down off of George Strait’s song, and then Just Want You to Know Who I Am because Caity got the Goo Goo Dolls stuck in my head.

What’s your favourite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

My favorite might actually be my most popular, so I’ll go with my close second favorites (it’s a tie)

A Privilege to Love You is a soulmate au, and those are my favorite things ever. I also received some of the best feedback on this one, and I feel like I did a lot of things that worked really well in this fic.

The View from the Veranda is just so wonderful for me though, it combines my love of history with absolute silliness for a friend (I love you Liz!!!), @krisrix did some INCREDIBLE art for it, and I just had so much fun writing it.

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

As You Wish was the most popular, hands down, with more hits, kudos, comments, and bookmarks than any other fic I wrote. It’s also the fic of mine that I reread the most, because it makes me so happy and I love all the silly moments.

Story most underappreciated by the universe?

We’re Not in Genovia Anymore is probably the answer here. This isn’t entirely backed up by metrics, since it does have more hits and kudos than some of my other fics, but for how long it is and the work that went into it, I think it only got a portion of the attention I was hoping it would. That’s mostly my fault though! It was the first fic I wrote for this fandom, and so I have definitely grown as a write since! Additionally, while I feel like it has a lot of great moments and fantastic lines, I have some lackluster bits too, and it really suffered from not having a beta (I was too shy to ask anyone back then). It’s also an AU of a movie that isn’t as widely viewed as I previously thought, so that didn’t help either, and as I already said, this fic could have a much better title.

All that aside though, the people who have read and talked to me about this fic have really seemed to like it, so I’m glad that I did right by my fellow Princess Diaries 2 fans! (and all of the wonderful people who read it and commented nice things having never seen the movie, y’all rock!)

Story that could have been better?

Everything I wrote before asking someone to beta. I just talked about what I would improve in We’re Not In Genovia Anymore, but Promises could use some work too. Having a few wonderful friends help me edit my fics has really improved what I post!

Sexiest story?

Oh gosh, I am not someone who writes sexy things.

Having said that, The View from the Veranda was written in the style of a bodice ripper, so I think that makes it the sexiest story by default. Kris’s art also enhances its sex appeal by at least 200% (I laughed out loud when I was making the list at the start of this post, because I had entirely forgotten that fic is rated G - honestly, that tells you everything you need to know about me, my romance novel fic can be read by children haha) (I might give it a T rating at some point, just because I feel like it should have that)

**I just remembered the bonus chapter for As You Wish.... that might be the sexiest thing I’ve written haha 🤣

Saddest story?

Early Riser - I am a big believer in giving everyone who deserves it a happy ending, but this one is just an interlude of sadness and depression without any resolution in sight.

(If you read it though, please know that in my head they do get therapy and things do get better! Snowbaz always has a happy ending in my fics, even if I don’t write it out fully)

Most fun?

As You Wish - this one to me feels like the happy chaos of running and sliding around a big house in stocking feet, and I don’t have a better way to describe it than that. There’s a tiny bit of angst from Baz, and a little bit of panic from Simon, but I was smiling and having so much fun while writing this fic, and I really think it comes across.

Story with single sweetest moment?

A Privilege to Love You - I’ll let you decide which of the many sweet moments is actually the sweetest ❤

Hardest story to write?

Promises, no question about it. I had written two fics by that point, and people had been so nice, and some of you lovely folks had even started tagging me in WIP Wednesday posts and in Six Sentence Sunday posts, but I felt like I had no inspiration left and I kept worrying that I wouldn’t be able to write again. So, I forced myself to write something, and it felt like pulling teeth (and it honestly wasn’t very good), but I gifted it to the person who had been my biggest cheerleader and who had tagged me a million times, and that’s how @foolofabookwyrm and I became friends. Writing the fic sucked, but her friendship is worth it, a million times over 💜💜💜

Easiest/most fun story to write?

The View from the Veranda. I’m a historian, and I work a lot with primary sources and spend time speaking with others in 18th century language, so once I got into my “work mindset” the words just flowed. This was also a silly, happy story for me, because I included a lot of jokes for Liz, and there are a ton of details that are just hilarious if you work at the same place I do (sorry that none of you do, but let me just tell you, the descriptions of Simon are all based off of my most attractive colleague, and at least 15% of this fic is silly quotes from work). I think this was only supposed to be about a thousand words long, and I messaged Kris multiple times while writing just to tell him that it was getting out of control and I couldn’t stop writing 😂

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

Writing for Agatha in We’re Not in Genovia Anymore really made realize how much some of her (canon) story resounded with me, and I liked the deeper character study I ended up doing for her. I’m still always going to be the most in love with Baz, but I have a deeper connection to Agatha now too.

Most overdue story?

It’s still overdue. I have so many WIPs, at least seven of which are soulmate AUs, and I just keep starting more. In terms of actual planned release date though? I started writing a The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue AU for NaNoWriMo, with the intention of publishing it in January. It’s already the longest fic I’ve ever written, and I don’t think I’m even a quarter of the way done with it. I wasn’t happy writing for NaNo, because I don’t do well with creativity on a deadline, and I chose to pause work on that fic so I can actually enjoy writing it and end up with something I like once I finally return to it. Apologies to those who are anxiously awaiting the fic, I do hope to finish it this year, and I won’t post until it’s all done, so you’ll get a very rapid update schedule when it does come out!

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

I signed up for my first fandom event! I participated in the Secret Snowflake event, and wrote Down By The Sea for the wonderful @fight-surrender (and ended up with ideas for some other new fics too)! Even though I was actively failing NaNoWriMo when I signed up, I did manage to complete my fic on time, and I learned that it wasn’t quite as daunting as I was expecting it to be. (My biggest problem was my laptop breaking and having to do almost everything on my phone - I also learned once again just how amazing Liz is, as she helped me format and post to ao3, since I couldn’t do that properly without a computer)

I struggle with being creative on a deadline, but wanting to write a little over 1k in a month was much more achievable than feeling stressed about writing 50k in a month!

This year’s theme and the story that demonstrates it most:

I like the idea of the inevitability of love. I adore soulmate AUs, because I love the idea of a universe where not only does someone have a perfectly matched other person, but that there is a surefire way to find them. Even though I only published one soulmate AU this year, I feel like every time I write Snowbaz I am writing about a couple where love will, inevitably, win. In my mind they are always going to have a happy ending somewhere down the line where they are just purely in love. Even though love doesn’t magically fix everything, it’s still incredibly powerful, and I only want to create stories where Simon and Baz truly love each other.

Of course, with that as the theme, A Privilege to Love You has to be the fic that best demonstrates the idea of inevitable love - it’s a soulmate AU and a universe where Simon exercises his free will.

What are your fic writing goals for next year this year?

Finish and publish my Gentleman’s Guide AU

Finish and publish more soulmate AUs (I have so many WIPs you guys)

Plan more before writing

Work on improving dynamic scenes and the overall flow of my fics - I sometimes feel like I have too many lulls, and I want to write in a more engaging way

Promote my own work more! I am partially doing this post because there are multiple fics that I never shared on here! I plan to make banners for all of the fics I write this year, and to post them on tumblr at the same time I upload them to ao3.

The last few years have been a time of tremendous personal growth for me, and I really feel like I’m starting to understand who I am as a person, settle into myself, and like who I am. I’m thrilled to discover that fandom is still part of who I am and what I enjoy, and that I have more creative outlets in my life now than I ever expected to. My biggest goal is just to keep building on all of that, to use fic to explore who I am, to reflect what I like, make myself happy with my writing, and to hopefully make at least a few of you happy with my stories too!

[5lazarus]

#29 "if one of us sinned it must be God", your choice of what to do with it?

I cannot tell you how much I love the prompt list you made. Collected Works got lost in the mail, so I ordered To Axion Esti. Very excited to read! I’m thinking about going through all 40 prompts and writing each of them as a moment from Solas’ revolution, so here is the first. I posted it to AO3 here, there is no ithaca--I was rereading C.P. Cavafy’s poem “The City” and thinking about Solas and Arlathan, as I am wont to do, and decided to use that as my thematic base. because when I am not writing about a city? but without further adore, the story itself: “if one of us sinned it must be God.”Humiliation comes easy to a son of Arlathan. Solas goes limp and lets the vallaslin take control, shuntling self deep behind his eyes where even Mythal cannot see. He knows he is not wrong. She bends his knee and he stares steadily at the ground. His eyes do not burn. His lips do not contort into a snarl. Mythal shapes him into genteel obedience, as a reminder of what they are. She forces him. He resists gently. The punishment will be worse than this. He would punish himself worse, if he let her see his eyes.

“Even my own Pride kneels humbled before me,” Mythal chuckles. Hesitant laughter murmurs through the galley: he may be humbled today, but back at her side tomorrow. They all know this, especially him. He traces sigils in the mosaics, cold beneath his hands. They dance geometric before his eyes, and he wonders at the shapes into which they contort. He has dissected an elf’s eye before, assisting Ghilan’nain. What collection of minuscule muscular contortions make this? How can he replicate it? He tells himself: this is what I shall remember. Mythal’s grim smile and the uneven marble tesserae cutting into my minds, and I shall permutate the perspective until I can meet my own eyes again. He tests the charm quietly, tensing the muscles in his feet, but he cannot rise. Mythal still has him bound.

Andruil says wearily, “Really, Mother, is this necessary? Let him rise, and lick his wounds, and come back all the brighter tomorrow. We have work to do.” She flourishes a hand, so the light catches in her lyrium-gauntlet. He sees the red reflected in her shadow. Reflexively he shudders but he cannot, Mythal has him in place, and the horror comes to his eyes and Solas quashes it fiercely, because though he is bound, he still has his own pride, and he will not let Mythal corrupt his nature. She made him like this. He will not let her break him too. Mythal is amused. “Fine,” she says. She has made her point: the war against the dwarves will continue, and those pressed into the Evanuris’ service will stay their servants. There may be freedom for their grandchildren, down the line: so Solas’ own children, if he has any, will be born free. But the soldiers are bound to Elvhenan, and Mythal will not free them so long as Elvhenan needs them--and that includes binding her own Pride to Elvhenan’s will, however humbling it may be. The vallaslin sinks back into his skin, almost invisible, and slowly he rises. Expressionless he gazes upon Mythal. He thinks, your Pride shall be your downfall. He says the words he has rehearsed so often before, “Hail Mythal, adjudicator and savior! She has struck down the pillars of the earth and rendered their demesne unto the People! Praise her name forever!" Mythal smiles unpleasantly. “Enough of that, Dread Wolf. I have mastered my Pride. I do not need to see you grovel.” “I merely recite fact,” Solas says. “Fact you have had me say many a time before, and that I will repeat for any audience.” There is no point in staying. She will not listen to reason. This lyrium-sickness will drive them mad and wrap their minds right into that bizarre hivemind of the Titans. The Evanuris will not compromise. His people have sealed the road to the Titan, and he has been punished for it. He has taken liberties that were never his, enslaved to the will of Mythal, to guard those she does not consider her children. He holds the anger in the pit of his stomach and keeps his face blank. Mythal says, “See that you do. You may leave, Dread Wolf. You have sinned but you have been forgiven. Return to celebrate the spoils of our next campaign. I will not see you before then.” Solas thinks, I don’t want to see you before then, what makes you think I am so eager for punishment? I am not like Andruil, still slavering for a kind word. I have my own people to attend to--and yours. He cannot help but utter a short laugh as he bows his head. Smiling grimly to himself, he leaves, conscious of the court’s attention, and he cannot help but throw his shoulders back and walk as tall as he would after a battle bloodlessly won. His pride is smarting. He will lick his wounds, and recover. He walks back to his office and takes the eluvian back to his official household, where he removes the golden armor of Fen’Harel that he is really growing too old for, and changes to more comfortable clothes. He debates the utility of doing something dramatic with his hair, where gray is beginning to pepper at the temples. Restlessly he goes into his bedroom and packs a bag, thinking that he can go anywhere, slip away to another quarter of the city, where he can be yet another of the All-Mother’s slaves, and struggle to pay his rent and his tithe as he works a job marginally more satisfying than managing a losing war. He would like to paint. In another world, perhaps, he was never given that promotion, and returned to Arlathan not in Mythal’s own triumph, but as a weary footsoldier, seeking his allotment from the temple guards. He laughs. A slave’s life, regardless: he cannot imagine a reality in which he is not defined by the will that is Mythal. Then Wisdom says, “Look at yourself, Pride. You dressed yourself blindly. A costume can change but you remain the same.” He had not heard them creep behind him. He looks up at them and they smile, mirroring his face without the binding. Grief seizes him and he turns away, tears prickling at his eyes. He sits back on his bed and puts his head in his hands. Wisdom freely given can feel cruel. He thinks, I thought I had grown too old for this. “I envy you,” Solas says. “That you may take my shape without my obligations. That you are free from the will of Mythal. That your nature remains incorrupt.” He touches the vallaslin at his cheeks. He remembers fighting off the priests when they restrained him, as a boy. He remembers refusing to submit to the will that is Mythal. He bit one--his father had been horrified. They still branded him. He remembers the way that it burned. Wisdom is quiet. They sit next to them. He listens to them mimic his breathing. Outside the window the city seethes. Night is falling and there are plenty of places to go, a friend of his has a gallery opening tonight, and then there is the little cafe opened by a man from the Tirashan who sings exquisitely, and of course he has the dispatches to attend to, little favors to dispense, and his friends to consult about this latest humiliation. Wisdom says, “What makes you corrupt?” “The will of Mythal,” Solas says immediately, and then pauses. “The will that is Mythal. Obeying and disobeying. Either way is wrong.” He smiles ruefully. “I have sinned and I have been forgiven and I will be welcomed back to the fold, only to sin and be forgiven and welcomed back to the fold once more. According to the will that is Mythal. Because her Pride must be mastered.” “What makes you obey?” they say. Solas says bitterly, “Habit and the vallaslin. Blood calls to blood.” Sick shame and anger rush him, and his fingers claw at the quit under them; and then he breathes through the pain, as he has been taught, and the feeling of humiliation subsides into rawness rather than burning. Wisdom says, “What makes you disobey?” Solas looks at them askance. “Because I will not blindly follow orders that will get myself and my people killed. I will not commit workers who expect me to protect them to those mines. I will not let the Evanuris’ greed destroy us all. The vallaslin may bind me, but it does not command me. I will save the elvhen people, even from their own false gods.” Wisdom smiles, and Solas looks into the face that is so like how his own could be, unmarred by the vallaslin. “Then you have it,” they say. “You know your path. Walk it. Mythal gave you manumission, even if she did not give you your will.” “I cannot remove the vallaslin,” he says, amused. Wisdom loses its definition slightly, so Solas knows they disagree, even if they will not vocalize it. “What?” “You say you cannot remove the vallaslin,” they say. “But you also say that it does not command you. Then why do you let it define your face? You are limiting yourself, Solas. Why?” Solas says, only to fill the space, “You have given me much to think about.” It is unthinkable that the vallaslin can be removed, but he wants it gone. He has rarely circumscribed his desires before--it was unthinkable that a slave could become an evanuris, after all, but that did not stop him from steadily rising through the ranks. He rises and catches sight of himself in the mirror in the corner of his room, plainly attired, Mythal’s vallaslin burnt as prominent on his face as ever. He strokes the lines they burnt onto his chin, wondering what he would look like without it. He imagines himself without it, no longer resigned to the easy humiliations of Mythal’s service, and he sees, in a glance, the possibility. A shiver traces down his spine as Wisdom leaves the room and he is left standing before the mirror, thinking rapidly the chain of spells born in the blood and how they can be undermined, chipped away at, worn away like a river against the stone. He has brought down mountains and decapitated the heart of the Stone. What is stopping him now? When there is possibility, there is pride. Solas raises his head and meets his own gaze in the mirror and knows, suddenly, that his only master is his Pride, and that cannot be mastered.

[okarawrites]

Hi! I just wanted to say I love your blog and you’re so talented❤️ I read your dom w/ Cloud post and I was wondering if you could do something similar but with Vegeta? Thank you!

Hey! thank you so much, that's so sweet of you! <3 

And yes of course! Hope you enjoy it! I’m writing it with a Saiyan reader :)

The situation you found yourself in had been built up over time. There had been no conversation about spicing things up. Despite always striving to seem uninterested in your feelings, Vegeta was very astute to you. He had quickly realised that, true to your Saiyan heritage, you were very much attracted to his strength. Overpowering you was a easy task to him, while you were stronger than most humans, your physical strength was nothing compared to his.

 This is what gave him the idea of altering his methods of dominating you. He wasn’t usually much of a talker in the bedroom, but he had noticed that you reacted well whenever he did decide to be more vocal, so he decided to incorporate that into his plan.

 You were stood in Goku and Chichi’s house chatting with Chichi. You had always admired the woman and loved watching her dynamic with Goku. Vegeta was out training with Goku, so you took it as an opportunity to catch up with your friend. Your conversation was interrupted by your mobile ringing. Looking down at the device you were surprised to see that Vegeta was calling you. “Sorry, I better take this. It’s Vegeta.” you said to Chichi, who was then watching you with worry in her eyes that something was wrong. “Everything ok?” you asked picking up the phone. “I’m going to be home in an hour. I’m going to send you some instructions to follow.” Before you could reply the line went dead. It wasn’t unlike him to end calls abruptly, so you just shrugged it off and waited for his ‘instructions’.

 “Nothing to worry about, Chi. Just Vegeta being dramatic about sending me some sort of list. Probably just wants me to pick up some groceries on the way home.” You saw Chichi visibly relax at your words. Your phone pinged again. You don’t really know what you had been expecting Vegeta to send you, but it hadn’t been this.

 I’ll be home in 45 minutes. I want you to be waiting in our bedroom in nothing but your underwear. If not, there will be consequences.

 You felt a shot of desire rush to your core as your reread the message. You could feel your face heat up and Chichi noticed the blush on your face. “Are you alright? You look a little flushed.” she asked, thankfully mistaking your arousal for discomfort. “Yeah, umm, I gotta go. Lots of um... shopping to do. Yeah, shopping. Um say hi to Goku for me!” you fumbled over your words, practically flying away mid-sentence.

 Once you were mid-flight, you took out your phone again and decided on reply to Vegeta's message.

 What do you think I am? Some delivery service?!

 You knew you’d give him anything he wanted, but you liked to make him work for it a little. As if anticipating your reply, Vegeta replied within seconds.

 Oh, I know exactly what you are. Don’t worry.

 Oh really, and what would that be? you replied

 Obedient was all you got as an answer.

 You got home with 30 minutes to spare, so you decided to shower quickly before getting dressed into your nicest lingerie. It was lacy and showed off your figure perfectly. You had obeyed one element of his instructions, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be fully compliant. Not after that message. You decided to put your shirt and trousers back on over the lingerie. You felt his energy approach the house and sat down on your bed, acting as normal as possible.

 He was in the bedroom standing in front of you in an instant. It’s well known that Vegeta is of an angrier temperament, but over the years you have come to know his range of anger and there is particular anger that is reserved only for you. You know this because you’re the same with him. It is essentially your way of flirting. You rile each other up to breaking point, then enjoy the outburst. It was how you two got together in the first place.

 Your heart was pounding in your chest as you did you best to look at him nonchalantly. “So, why did you want me to wait here?” you asked. The anger in his eyes fueling your arousal, threatening to rid you of your calm exterior.

 He knew exactly what you were doing, and it was working. He had to take it up a notch. He chuckled darkly before walking over to you. He tilted your chin gently, urging you to look him in the eyes as he stood over you. “You can’t play innocent when we both know you’re already wet.” He said smoothly, with a smirk playing on his lips. In what felt like one swift movement, he had flipped you so that you were now on your hands and knees on the bed. One of his hands pressed between your shoulder blades and pushed your chest into the bed. You let out a groan and Vegeta pulled down your trousers to your knees.

He let out a laugh when he saw that you had obviously put on your best panties just for him. “Even when you try not to, you’re always so obedient.”

Your underwear did nothing to conceal how wet you were. He slowly ran a finger down the soaked fabric. You let a moan at the contact earning a hum of approval from the man behind you. “The most formidable woman I know, reduced to moaning by a simple touch” he mused. Suddenly you felt a sharp pain as his open palm connected with one of your ass cheeks causing you to cry out. It stung, but you delighted in the pain, adding yet again to the growing ache in your core.

“I told you there would be consequences.” He leaned over you and whispered in your ear “And this is just the beginning.” His hand came down on your ass several more times. Once he was satisfied with the redness of your skin he licked the sore skin before pulling down your panties to join your trousers around your ankles. He let out a deep growl at the slight of your exposed lips.

He had had enough of teasing you and himself and buried his face into you, lapping hungrily at you as you cried out his name. His tongue worked you well, exploring every inch he could reach. He could feel your knees get shaky and considered stopping just before you came, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. He relished in the sound, taste, and feel of you cumming on his mouth. He took in a deep breath when he finally removed his mouth from you. His hands kneaded your ass cheeks and one traveled up your back, making sure to pass over the sensitive scar where your tail once hung. Once his hand was on your back he grabbed a fist full of your shirt and tugged you stand on your knees. Once you were on your knees his hands slid around you, moving to free you of your shirt.

He couldn’t remove his eyes from your lace-clad form as he disposed of your shirt. His large hand squeezed on one of your breasts before pinching at the erect nipple. His hand stroked over the fabric. “I think we’ll keep this on.” He said, moving your face round to capture your lips in a kiss. His tongue entered your mouth. You could taste yourself on him. You moaned as he deepened the kiss, hand holding you in place by the throat. He broke the kiss suddenly, dominance practically pouring off him as he held you by the throat maintaining eye contact as his other hand moved down your ass to settle in between your legs. Without warning, he plunged two fingers into your soaking pussy. You cried out and squeezed your eyes shut. “Look at me” his voice was quiet but his tone was demanding. You opened your eyes immediately. “So obedient. How should I reward you?” he was so smug, voice cool in contrast to the fact that he was finger fucking you at a bruising pace. You were close and he knew it, so he slowed down causing you to let out a whine in protest. “You didn’t answer me. What do you want?”

You could just about stammer out a response as his fingers worked achingly slow. “p-please please fuck me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He removed his fingers from you and released your throat from his grip. The lack of support sent you back down to your hands and knees, just like he wanted. You heard the quick unbuckling of his trousers before he slammed into you, letting out a low groan at the contact. It was obvious that it had been hard for him to hold back this long and he was relentless. “Fuck, yes Vegeta!” you cried out as he hit your walls perfectly. “That’s it, you always accept me so willingly.” He said hammering into you. “Now be a good girl and cum for me” hearing him say that sent you over the edge. You cried out as your hands fisted the bedsheets underneath you. His hands were tight on your hips. “Only a strong Saiyan woman could take me so well.” He muttered out, just loud enough for you to hear, and with that he released into you with a grunt.

As he came down, slowing his thrusts, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss on your shoulder before pulling out of you. You fell onto your stomach and he flopped down on the bed next to you. 

[blue-eyed-korra]

Is Dylan really Kieran? A Theory Dissection:

So I’ve taken the time to process everything that’s happened in the amazing season finale of Purple Hyacinth because I didn’t want to rush into posting about it and I really wanted to let my thoughts about it simmer for a bit. I also decided to reread the entire season over the course of a couple days to get the best idea of how it worked as a whole. Once again if you haven’t read this yet please do yourself a favour and check it out it’s really phenomenal.

I’ll probably make a few posts about PH over the next couple weeks as we wait for season 2. However I won’t post an analysis of the finale mainly because Lanxyuu already did an amazing job of that already. Check it out if you’ve got the time, it’s 10000 words of pure analytical gold. Writing about any of that would be redundant. That being said the first thing I’m gonna talk about is the whole ‘Is Kieran actually Dylan’ theory that’s the new hot thing in the fandom, mainly because I’ve received a lot of requests to discuss it and also because I feel like I can add my own points to the debate.

So let’s just get it out of the way: do I think Kieran is Dylan? As of right now the answer is no. I just don’t think we have enough evidence to prove it, and what’s there is more circumstantial. That doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy theorizing about it. I’ve found that discussing and sharing theories and ideas is one of my favourite ways to interact with a fandom. So I’m gonna put all of the evidence that I’ve observed in the entire first season both in favour of and against this theory and show why I think we can’t say that Kieran is Dylan. I’m not telling you to not believe it. Believe what you want! Like I said it’s fun to do this. I’ve just been specifically asked my opinion and I want to be able to justify it through what I’ve seen in the comic itself. 

For more of my posts about Purple Hyacinth check out my ‘ph posts’ tag!

So with all of that out of the way, let’s get started!

Evidence in favour of Kieran being Dylan:

One of the things I think most of us can agree on is that Dylan probably isn’t really dead. In general if I’m not shown a body, I don’t believe they’re dead. I’ve seen far too many movies and TV shows and have read far too many novels to be fooled by that. As of right now, in my head, Dylan is alive, or at least wasn’t killed in the bombing. So obviously if he isn’t dead then that frees him up to show up in the plot at some point or maybe he was there all along...?

This kind of ties into my next point: what happened to him then? His hat was found at the scene, so he must have lost it at some point before the explosion. This is all speculative, but he could have been snatched up by Tim and the driver in Lauren’s parents car. We heard Tim mention that children were in the car so it’s somewhat plausible that Dylan could have been kidnapped. Maybe he saw something suspicious and snooped around a bit which lead to him being snatched up or something. From there he’s tortured and broken and made into an assassin for the PS. Only he isn’t broken. He steels his resolve and does as he’s told because he’s now set on biding his time and getting revenge on those who robbed him of his life and humanity. It makes for a pretty compelling character arc.

The tragedy of his character arc could also be supplemented by the fact that when he was young, he wanted to be a doctor and save lives, but they made him into an assassin who takes lives. Brutally. Violently. Painfully. All of this would emphasize why he views himself as such a monster. The person he is now goes against everything the person he once was values. It’s this dichotomy that reinforces his ‘monster’ persona and allows him to justify this view of himself.

Another point is that this could explain why Kieran hesitated when he could have killed Lauren way back in episode 3. Of course he would hesitate to kill someone who was his close friend. Most of his murders were of people he either didn’t know or didn’t know very well. If he’d had a close friendship with her in childhood, it would obviously make him stop for a moment when he realizes who she is, just like he does in that episode. We even see Lauren say that if she knew why he hesitated then ‘everything would be different’. Obviously if she found out that he was her-long-lost-thought-to-be-dead friend, the person who symbolized her guilt for not stopping the bombing, the plot would be waaaaaay different. Just like the line about being the most blind of all in the prologue, the implications of this line are going to play a major role in the story, and this theory could explain that.

Then there’s those god damned purple hyacinths. Obviously Dylan’s knowledge of these flowers, both in their cultivation and meaning, are things that Kieran must know too. We pretty much know that they’re his signature for both their royal symbolism and their use in mourning, and that Kieran must have a stash of them growing somewhere. There’s also the fact that Lauren, who we know is very intelligent and well educated even at 12, doesn’t know the meaning of purple hyacinths other than their use as a symbol by the royal family. This tells me that their symbolism outshines their meaning in the traditional sense within the pop culture. Honestly, I didn’t even know the meanings of most flowers except for roses until I started reading this Webtoon. I’m not saying that people don’t know the meaning at all, I’m just saying it may not be common knowledge.

The final point I wanna talk about in favour of this theory is their appearances, since that will bleed nicely into the points against it for obvious reasons. So many people, myself included, have noticed that if you switch Dylan’s hair and eye colouring for Kieran’s, he’d basically look like little Kieran, and yes, I see it too. You could say that he could be dying his hair, it’s not crazy to believe hair dye exists in this world. How else does Belladonna have pink hair if they didn’t have access to dye? Unless it’s just stains from the blood of her victims… Actually that could be a theory lol but that’s not the point. Point is Kieran could theoretically have his hair dyed black, but it’s a bit of a stretch, as I explain in...

Evidence against Kieran being Dylan:

While he maaaaay be able to change his hair colour from light blond to black, there’s no way for him to change his eye colour from grey to blue. If rectangular glasses don’t even exist in this world yet (thank you Soph for this justification for why you gave him Harry Potter glasses), there’s no way that they’d have access to contact lenses yet. The other argument is that his eye colour changed with age but that feels a bit too... convenient for my taste. Odds are our boy Kieran is sporting the look he was born with.  Additionally, with everything going on in his life and his priorities, when would he have the time to constntly maintain this look, and why would he feel the need to disguise himself in the first place? He already operates in the shadows of the night and none of the authorities, other than Lauren, were able to get close enough to describe his appearance. There would simply be no need for all of that extra disguising.

Speaking of his appearance, we’ve seen one of his victims recognize him before he murders them. He says something interesting: ‘You were that boy’. Now this whole thing is one of my favourite mysteries of the series, so you best believe I am jumping on this shit the second we get more info about it. But for now, I want to use it to show that this aristocrat, who were loyal to the crown and presumably hadn’t seen him in years, took one look at Kieran’s face and immediately recognized him from when he was a child. If this man knew he had these same features as a boy, then it’s safe to assume that he’s always looked like this. This also links him to the aristocracy, since there’s no reason why this man of high status in opposition the PS would know anything about him unless he knew him before he entered the PS. Dylan, on the other hand, was the son of a gardener. He was friends with Lauren sure, but he clearly was of a lower station in society than someone like Lauren or the other aristocratic families. It’s doubtful that he’d leave such an impression on this high society man.

On top of all of that, if he were really Dylan and this man really did see through his change in appearance, why wouldn’t Lauren see through it too? She was one of his best friends and thinks about him constantly. If this man was able to recognize him in a single moment but she still doesn’t recognize him after months, then odds are he just isn’t Dylan.

There’s also the fact that Kieran doesn’t lie when he tells Lauren his name. It’s the same name that people like Belladonna know him by and it’s the name he uses when he becomes the archivist in Lauren’s precinct. Like he said before: there’s no need for him to hide his identity. He’s protected by his reputation and the PS itself. I can see an argument where he could have ‘renounced’ his old name because the person he once was is dead and only the monster remains, which is again a cool theory , or you could say it’s to keep people from knowing that he’s actually alive. But there would be no real need for him to change his name. He could have two names just like the hyacinths have two meanings. I will say that this theory about ‘Kieran White’ not being his true name could also work in favour for him not being Dylan too as, if he was an aristocrat, the PS could have changed his name to hide him from his family as well, but that’s neither here nor there, just something to consider. For now we know that he really is Kieran White and there’s no evidence to disprove that (yet).

Finally, many of the points listed in favour of the theory; the motive, the character arc, the knowledge of flowers, it’s all circumstantial. For all we know, Kieran could be Dylan Rosenthal, or he could be some boy connected to the aristocracy or even the royal family. He could be Dylan Rosenthal, or he could be his own character with his own arc yet to be fully revealed who’s connected to Lauren somehow. The meaning of purple hyacinths could come from Dylan’s prior knowledge, or they could common knowledge and Kieran just bought ‘Gardening for Dummies’ or some shit to make sure he didn’t kill them. Any number of different things could really be at play that we simply don’t know yet. But we do know that a man recognized him at a glance while Lauren, Dylan’s best friend, didn’t recognize him whatsoever. We do know that there’s no proof that hair and especially eye colour can be changed in this world. We do know that we still have quite a ways to go in this story and that the answers aren’t what we expect.

Eph and Soph have done an amazing job of revealing the story to us in disjointed pieces so that when we finally get that one piece that fits, may of them fall into place too. How many of us realized it was her parents’ car in the picture before it was revealed in episode 49? Or thought that Harvey was a spy all along? I don’t think we know nearly enough about him to prove he’s Dylan, but what we do have at this moment is enough to disprove it. What we have now is primarily speculation versus hard physical evidence. We need to accept that we don’t have all the pieces to the puzzle yet and that we’ll only receive new ones little by little.

So, until we learn more about Kieran’s past or until we see ‘changing-eye-colour’ join ‘lie-detecting’ as a new supernatural ability, I’m afraid that I can’t fully get behind this theory. Again, this doesn’t mean I’m telling you not to believe it. Thinking about all the implications of Kieran being Dylan is a lot of fun, just like thinking about Kieran’s backstory and motives is fun. And I could be wrong about all of this, who knows? Writing this just got me really excited to see where his arc will lead us and even more excited for season 2!

Thanks again to everyone who wanted me to discuss this! I had a lot of fun writing it and would love to hear feedback from you guys about any thing you may want to contribute that I may not have mentioned. This post was born of a sleepless night into morning and a need to get all my thoughts out of my brain so it could finally turn off and let me sleep. I already have an idea about what I’m gonna write next so stay tuned and thanks again for all the support!!