So,I just saw ep 5 and i’m also a fan of princess reader and Ser Criston.I loved your last fic,you are so talented and you can feel the love you put in to writing.Can you please,please write an happy ending for them?Like in the last episode he asked Rhaenyra lo flee with him,but with princess y/n?He asks her to escape to Essos,she says yes and there they get married and live together forever like they deserve 😤
//you can feel the love you put into writing// thank you so much! this is one of the best things a writer can hear ☺😍🥺
oh, boy, am i sucker for rebellious princesses.
a/n: alright, so this is an aleternative ending for this fic [X]. You can read it separately, though, it's up to you
tw: spoilers
Dread bounced from your veins against you bones. You haven't felt this nervous since the first time you snuck around the sleeping halls of the palace to find your sweet Attor, the dragon you favored since you watched him hatch from the big egg and took off flying in the depths of nigh.
But that was freeing. And you always came back as if nothing has happened. This, you couldn't brush it off, pretending to not exist.
One hand fled to your hectic heart as the other laid atop of your belly, rubbing up and down as you ran. It scared you, the motherly gesture. As if your body has already shifted for the instincts needed to the changes inside you. Too fast so. Your mind was left behind by miles.
You pushed gently on your belly. Still soft with only skin, fat and flesh to wobble under your palm. But your monthly bleeding missed the timing two times in a raw. So you have finally convinced yourself to come see the maestress. Conjuring up all your courage, you knocked on the healing quarters' door.
"Princess y/n. What brings you so unexpectedly in our company? Are you unwell?"
"Perhaps the restlessness before the wedding. Worry not, princess, I will prepare you a calming tea. You shall sleep like a babe."
A babe, you almost laughed. Fitting wording. "It's not my sleep that bothers me. It's... something else." Teeth grazed the chipped skin of your lips. They suffered the torment of your worries in the past few days since the realization of your condition dawned on you.
"What is it? Out with it, your grace. We can't help you unless we know what the matter is."
The words struggled to leave your mouth. They couldn't even take shape in your mind, much less find the voice to form them out loud. You haven't told a soul of your presumptions. Not even Criston, the father of the child you were more than sure now grew in your womb.
You couldn't have told anyone even if you wanted. Your sister, maybe, but her love for the man who was about to imprison you irked your ire. It would be a while until you could embrace your older sister again. Daemon or Viserys were obviously off limits. Unpredictable. What would they do? You knew there were special drinks - teas - to make a pregnancy disappear. Would they make you take one? Or would they rush the wedding and pretend it's your uncle's child? You didn't know which hurt you more.
As for Criston, the knight that stole your heart and possessed your body... ever since the last night you shared after finding about your father's political plans for your future, he kept his distance. Solemn bows of his head when you passed him in the halls, stiffened straight back as you waved at him, formal salutes when he draw the shorter hay and had to guard your room.
You understood the distance. If not for the baby, you would have encouraged it. It was better for both of you, perhaps. A way to pretend your marriage to be less painful than it was. Criston even wanted to leave, you heard the maids gossip. Enrole as a knight in the Watch Guard. But the king forbade it.
"My bleeding missed the due this past two months." You finally puked the words to the stunned maestress.
"Have you- have you had any... intercourses with prince Daemon?"
The inside of your bottom lip puffed to cover your teeth in thought. Should you lie? It'd make no difference if the healers thing the baby is your future husband's. But such a lie would lay heavier on your heart than the burden of shame filled looks and sharp words thrown at you for bearing a bastard. About that you were sure.
"No." You said, a feeling of pride blooming like a late flower in spring. "I haven't laid with Daemon. But I have - had - a lover."
After they confirmed you were, indeed, pregnant, you expected them to rat you out to your father. For days you waited anxiously for Viserys or Daemon or both to storm inside your chambers and demand an explanation. You wouldn't have told them the truth, knowing it'll cost Ser Cole his life. But you would have had such a surge of petty, vengeful joy to watch their plans chipped by your love.
Every day you woke up and watched your body in the mirror. Too early yet for visible changes, you caressed your stomach in awe, a broad smile gracing your features. The product of a real love you were lucky enough to live, even if it ended. Something that could never be taken from you, nor lost or forgotten in the fog of time.
You hoped the baby, boy or girl, it didn't matter, would look like Ser Cole. That they'd have his brown curls, thick brows, long lashes and eyes as dark and precious as the night sky that brought you so much happiness. Not only would it remind you of the love denied to you, but it'd also be clear whom the baby is. Not the forced husband's, but the chosen knight's.
Days passed by and you entered your third month. The maestress assured you, at the weekly meeting you had with them in the dead of night, the nausea should become a rare occurance. Which washed a wave of relief over you. As much as you already loved your child, the sickness was an annoying effect to bear.
The time for your sister and cousin's wedding came. You had to cut through the gowns made for you and sew them larger yourself as your waist thickened and you didn't want your maids to suspect a thing.
You were to meet with your betrothed at the doors of the festive hall. To enter together, posing the merry couple. You paced around your room, practicing your walk. In the past months you have gotten so used to lean back, holding your womb, as you kept mostly to your chambers. But now that you were forced to join the celebration, you couldn't risk disclosing your secret.
Before you could take the turn around the corner, however, an arm curled around your elbow, a hand covering your mouth as you were pulled inside a crammed room.
"Don't yell. It's me." Criston whispered in a hurry. His palm tasted like cinnamon and oranges and so did the air around him smell like.
You nodded and as he loosened his grip on you, you turned to face him. That bubble laugh Criston loved so much ringed through the confinement of the small chamber he brought you to. The large smile he aodored adorning your face for the first time in months.
Criston traced his fingers over your lips as you immediately circled his neck with your arms. "I missed you so much," was the only thing that made sense in your mind. All the rest of your thoughts were bits and pieces you couldn't put together in a coherent speech.
Your lover smiled, rolling his shoulder backwards and puffing his chest out if your sight hadn't begin to lie to you. "I missed you too, my y/n." He said, lowering his head to catch your lips in his.
The kiss felt like magic of old was born anew in your blood. A fire so true, so powerful it could ignite the world in a whim. You lost yourself in his touch, feeling him through every way you could.
Criston almost forgot why he was there in the first place. Your mouth tasted like honey, your hands in his hair like a breeze of fresh air on a bruised, wounded body.
Then, as if you both thought of the same thing, you abruptly pulled apart.
"I have something to tell you," your voices mixed in the same sentence, one desperate, one pleading.
"You first," you nudged him. As much as you wanted to make him aware of your child, the fluttering of your nervous heart tighten your throat, locking the words in.
Besides, it appeared he needed to say what he had to as soon as possible.
"Run with me." Criston blurted out. "Let's go to Esos, take life from scratches, build a home together." And before you had a chance to comprehend his words, he detangled your hands from him and placed a gift in your palms.
Cinnamon and oranges. Everlasting divine (as poets sing love is) and loyalty. A teary smile played on your lips, trying to conceal sobs of gratefulness. "You remembered."
Once, in another lifetime, it seemed like, you had told Ser Cole jewels or gowns did not move you. But sincere and thoughtful gifts that carry meaning did. You used to read him from herbology books the little legends scribbled on the edges of the pages. Another poetic soul has written what knowledge cannot suffice: the meaning and symbols behind each herb, plant and tree described.
"How can I forget when it's you that have spoken it?"
You bit your lip. The decision was clear as day in your mind. A plan even forming to offer Criston in case his would be ruined somehow. But you felt a pang of guilt clawing in your heart. Your sister was getting married to someone she didn't love. She would cheat with Daemon and become queen all on her own. How selfish could you be to leave Rhaenyra?
"Criston, I'm not sure I can. My sister..."
"Knows."
"What?"
"She, uh, she suspected we spent the night together since the brothel. I guess she trully can read you. She said it was obvious you liked me. And gave us her blessing. We can't be together here, but in Esos..."
"Yes!" You all but shouted. "Yes, yes, yes! Take me, Criston Cole. Take me far away and wed me to you. Give me your love. You have mine."
The knight huffed balls of incredulous laugh after laugh. When he finally convinced he heard you right, Criston sqeezed your cheeks in his hands and devoured your moutg. You returned the kiss with the same passionate eagerness.
"I thought we can take Attor with us. Flying will be easier. And faster. Then hide him in the mountains near a small village. A city, or even a town would be too risky."
You nodded at everything he said, only half listening. All you cared about was build a home with him. The how or where mattered too little.
"Before we go," you stopped him when he twisted the door's handle, "there's something you need to know." One deep breath and: "I'm pregnant. Yours." You added quickly, pushing the words into each other as you spoke hurriedly.
A variety of emitions passed over his face in such a short time, you thought you imagined it: shock, pain, anger, fear, disbelief. Only to settle on the purest felicity you have ever seen.
Criston picked you up and twirled you around (as much as the room allowed), dropping to his knees in front of you and taking your stomach in his hands. With a look of reverence in his eyes, Ser Cole touched his forehead to it. "Hello, little one. I'm your father, if you can imagine something like this. So wonderful," he said, kissing the barely showing bump.
Your hands tucked at his hair, sniffing a watery eyed laugh. In no time, you were on Attor's back, flying towards Esos, towards a future you never dare hope to have, hands locked with your knight, the love of your life, laced together on top of your growing baby.
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10 BL BOYS I WILL THROW HANDS FOR
Was tagged by @scarefox for this (technically my main blog but I post my bl stuff on here lol) and am very excited
I imprint on characters like nobody's business so this is a list made for me
EDIT changed the gifs because apparently the way I did it didn't properly link to the creators (only on desktop at least). should be properly credited now
In no particular order
1) Sound (My School President)
Starting the trend of lonely queer teenagers that I get a little too attached to, it's of course Sound. Like I was already a fan of Sound and intrigued by the concept of SoundWin (at the time people didn't know it was going to be the main secondary ship) but when the medal scene happened and Sound gave this so sad ans soft "oh no" look I was gone. That is my son and I WILL fight anyone and everyone for him
2) Nuengdiao (Never Let Me Go)
Another lonely queer teenager I decided to protect. I loved Never Let Me Go so much and Nueng was my special little babygirl and then Our Skyy 2 came out and it was like oh...... I will kill for him. Look I love Nueng and he did nothing wrong and also that scene where he's forcing Palm to put the gun to his head while screaming at him to shoot him leaves rent free in my mind. He's so traumatized and lonely and he's like 18 I would do anything for him especially throw hands
3) Typhoon (Star in My Mind)
Fun fact! I had to stop watching Star in My Mind because I got so unreasonably attached to Typhoon that I couldn't bear the thought of him not getting a happy ending. I wanted him to end up with Dao so bad because it would make him happy and I knew that if I kept watching they would either break his heart OR show that he's actually not that great of a guy, both which were unbearable to me. So I simply cut my losses and live in the fantasy that he got everything he ever wanted.
4) Bai Lang (My Tooth Your Love)
One of those "he just like me fr fr" characters who I would do anything for. He's my specialist little boy and I love him so dearly. Here's to having your trauma swag bewitch the local hot autistic dentist body and soul.
5) Han Ying (Word of Honor)
Talk about my specialest boy. Ying'er is my guy through and through. He deserved so much better and in every WoH fic I have written (they are all still in drafts) he lives and is happy no matter what. He IS my sweet cheese, my rotten solider, my good time boy. I will continue writing him getting railed to the high heavens by Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing like he deserves. He is incapable of being anything other but the goodest boy possible and I will die on this hill
6) Boston (Only Friends)
He is the worst. I would move mountains for him. Enough said.
7) Pluem (Ghost Host Ghost House)
Look this man has been going through it AND he manages to be the like the most flirtatious and romantic guy around? Give me your secrets sir. Also say the word king and I'll do it. This show broke me on so many levels but a lot of those levels were tied to anytime I saw him break down
8) Ye Huo/Fire (Guardian)
A recent (and somewhat obscure) pull as I am currently watching Guardian and was just exposed to his character today but he is my guy and I will defend him to the death. The only weaker point for me than a lonely gay teenager is a self appointed older sibling who sacrifices everything for their younger siblings. I was really like man this guy is an asshole for so long but then the truth of how he was saving the boys at the fighting ring came out and I was like oh no that's my son now and I need him to live and be happy. I have not finished his arc yet so I am scared that it'll be a tragedy BUT he is my wonderful son all the same and I will throw hands for him in an instant
9) That (Manner of Death)
The return of troubled teenagers I need to adopt and protect against all costs. I WILL fight anyone for him even though he's like a rebellious teenager who does crime and I am a strange looking college student who he would not respect but it's the thought that counts
10) Mark/Village Head Ma (Love Tractor)
Why is there a random white man living in rural South Korea? I don't know!!! They never address what he's doing there. But I literally love this man. There's a reason I made him to be my pfp for bl-bracket. Seriously he's the best and I will fight anyone who says otherwise. Best character ever written. In my heart he's got the spirit of Quincey Morris form Dracula in the long tradition of just having a random American man in your story with no explanation
Tagging others!!!!! @saturnskyline @non-binarypal7 @supernovasimplicity @vegussy and anyoen else who wants to!!
There's been so many of these types of challenges/tag things lately that I have not kept track of who has or hasn't done which ones so sorry if you've already done something similar
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This Week in Gundam Wing (Nov 21-Dec 4, 2021)
Hey Gundam Wing fandom! Here’s your weekly roll-up. Be sure to show your fellow fans some love.
[sorry about the long post - is fixed now!!]
--Mod LAM
Fanfiction
Dirty Computer (CH.16/?) by @doctormegalomania
Characters: 5 pilots
Pairings: Heero x Duo, Wufei x OFC
Rating: MATURE
Tags / Warnings: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags Contain Spoilers, Minor Violence, Espionage, Unreliable Narrator, Post-War, Reference To Past Injury, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Original Character(s)
Summary: Years after the war, nothing is what anyone hoped for. Peace reigns supreme.
Ticket to Freedom (CH.23/45) by @bobo-is-tha-bomb
Characters: 5 pilots + supporting cast, reader insert
Pairings: Heero x Reader, Duo x Hilde, Trowa x Midii, Quatre x Cathy, Wufei x Meilan, past Heero x Relena
Rating: MATURE
Tags / Warnings: Romance, Alternate Universe - Band Fic, Drama, Fluff, Reader Insert, Slight Relena bashing
Summary: They were your ticket out of the sheltered and married life your parents had planned for you. And to be honest, you had always had a rebellious streak. You needed the freedom they offered, needed to taste life, live a little. But when they ask you to sing in their band, you are not so sure. How would a neatly brought up lady survive with a couple of wannabe rock stars? You’re about to find out.
Hard at Work or Hardly Working by @soloismyspiritanimal
Characters: Duo, Trowa/Triton
Pairings: N/A
Rating: General
Tags / Warnings: script ficlet
Summary: Duo and Triton (Trowa) are tied together for an exercise. Banter ensues.
The Life of the Immortal Jellyfish (CH.30/35) by @lemontrash
Characters: 5 pilots + supporting cast
Pairings: Duo x Wufei
Rating: EXPLICIT
Tags / Warnings: post-canon, post-Endless Waltz, insomnia, PTSD, developing relationships, canon-type violence, grief/mourning, UST, friends to lovers
Summary: Is it chance that lands Duo and Wufei in the same university dorm room? They’re not stupid enough to believe that but too tired to fight it. Duo’s dragged himself back from the brink of going too far and remains teetering on the edge while Wufei’s doggedly trying to prove himself to the ‘good guys’ in the aftermath of the Eve Wars. Sleep and normalcy eludes them both. As they become increasingly aware how damaged they are, they start to edge towards friendship, or something more, but all too soon the peace seems jeopardised by a new and manipulative threat.
I Reincarnated As A Minor Villainess and I Survived Past My Death Scene (CH.40/?) by @thaiteaaddict
Characters: Full Cast
Pairings: Heero x Duo, Trowa x Quatre, Wufei x Meilan, Dorothy x Relena
Rating: Teen and Up
Tags / Warnings: AU - Fantasy, AU - Isekai, POV First Person, Unreliable Narrator
Summary: After being killed in a traffic accident, Duo wakes up in a medieval fantasy novel - except he’s woken up as one of the novel’s minor villains who was supposed to have died in a main character’s backstory. Intent on righting the wrongs of his novel counterpart, Duo sets out to change his fate and just maybe improve the relationship between himself and his estranged husband, Duke Heero Yuy. (Duo is isekai’d into the body of a novel’s villainess character and runs with it.)
five times heero yuy learned about soulmarks (and one time he didn't) by @pimpmastapopo
Characters: Heero, Relena
Pairings: Heero x Relena
Rating: Teen and Up
Tags / Warnings: soul bonds, soul marks, fluff
Summary: Heero didn’t think he believed in soulmates.
A Fine Line (CH.8/?) by @the-reanimated-bhg
Characters: 5 pilots
Pairings: N/A
Rating: MATURE
Tags / Warnings: first person POV, mental health issues, post-war, psychological trauma, child soldiers, explicit language
Summary: As a way of giving back to the community Quatre establishes a halfway house for veterans and those displaced by the wars. He hires Duo to help him run it, and all is going smoothly until Heero stumbles in with a favor to ask. Everything goes downhill after that.
Fanart
Heero Yuy (pencil drawing) by @bobo-is-tha-bomb
Dorothy and Relena flirting by @2pcbart for @lifeaftermeteor
Quatre x Trowa kiss by @circusoftrash
Shenlong and Wing by @bellasar
The Dragon After His Winter Sleep by @theboringbluecrayon
Duo Maxwell by @ftmmidnighter
Dorothy and Quatre by @darksharinganz
Lady / Colonel Une by @keiko1183
Other Fanwork
Gunpla and Cosplay
MG Sandrock Custom WIP by @bobo-is-tha-bomb
Wing Zero (and group) by @erika-mr
Headcanons and Discussion
@sister-hawk sharing some thoughts on Heero Yuy
Other Fun Stuff
@the-reanimated-bhg shares Duo’s Future Finances, Treize’s Dad Jokes, and Wufei silliness
@incorrectgundamwingquotes still making us laugh (Example A)
@utamonogatari is posting show screencaps under their GW tag
@janaverse is posting screencaps from their GW characters in their The Sims tag
Animal Crossing Hilde Shenanigans by @gundayum
Always wear sunblock and Thanksgiving silliness by @a-river-of-stars
Dune x GW mash-up / parallels by @icarus-suraki
Calendar Events
@gwcocktailfriday’s lastest prompt is here. Be sure to post your responses between 3-5PM EST on Friday (Dec 10).
Pinch Hitter Sign-Ups are still open for the the 2021 Holiday Gift Exchange hosted by @thisweekingundamevents. If you missed participant sign-ups but are open to being someone’s alternate, be sure to complete the form!
Sign Up to receive a holiday card from @lifeaftermeteor!
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Seek Him Who My Soul Loveth (1/2)
For my spin on @gayforgoodomens‘ Priest AU, for when she wondered off-hand how Crowley and Aziraphale might go about having sex for the first time, whilst simultaneously still pining/pretending they’re not breaking their vows. So, naturally, off I went to write what’s looking like will be a 6-7,000 word fic about it.
Listen, the only thing stopping me from turning this AU into a full-blown multichapter fic is (a) my knowledge of the workings of Catholicism being limited to some brief skimming of Wikipedia and what little of church I remember from when I was 7 and (b) I already have a multichapter WIP being posted, and I know I don't have the attention span to maintain two major WIPs simultaneously.
But I want to
(That being said, this is in two parts; part two should be done in a few days.)
If you prefer, you can also read this on Ao3 @ childrenofthesun.
-----------------------------------
"Ah, Father Crowley, there you are! So, this is where you've been hiding all evening."
"Hardly a shock to find me out here, is it?" Crowley asked with a grin, squinting up at the cherubic middle-aged man now standing beside him. Like Crowley, he was wearing pants and a short-sleeved button-up with a clerical tab, in deference to the balmy summer weather. Unlike Crowley, he was very clean and neat, and not wearing a dirt-streaked garden apron. "I've been spending all of my free time this week working on the gardens, now that Shadwell's retired and can't go berating me for trying to do the job he wasn't even doing himself. Beyond me how he even got the job in the first place."
The other man looked around fretfully, as if expecting the former groundskeeper to leap out from behind a poorly maintained bush and start yelling at him. "Oh, I know, but you mustn't be too hard on the poor fellow. The job was more to make him feel useful than anything. But Gabriel said we couldn't justify the expense anymore."
"You were too soft on him, anyway, Aziraphale," Crowley admonished, smirking at the little huff Aziraphale let out when Crowley didn't address him by his title, as he was supposed to. "Letting him set up all that nonsense meant to ward off witches. It’s certainly never stopped Anathema from coming here to borrow one of your books."
"At least it kept him busy," Aziraphale replied, sounding slightly aggrieved. His hands fluttered briefly by his wrists, as if he wanted to fiddle with the sleeves of the cassock that was his preferred style of dress. "Although it would have been nice if he had directed some of that energy towards the upkeep of the gardens. I did try to explain to him that the grounds are consecrated, and that surely would ward off evil, but in his eyes that wasn't sufficient protection."
"I know, I tried to explain it that way, too," Crowley told him cheerfully. "Apparently, the fact that I wear sunglasses all the time means I must be in league with the Devil, so he didn't think my input was particularly useful."
"Is he not aware of your eye condition?"
"I tried to tell him what photosensitivity is, but seems he's of the school of thought that science and witchcraft are basically the same thing. The tattoos probably didn't help me make my case either."
Aziraphale made a face. "Ah."
"Yup," Crowley confirmed, and Aziraphale shook himself suddenly.
"You've distracted me, you wily old thing!" he chided.
"Younger than you," Crowley pointed out, grinning impishly and making Aziraphale glower at him with impatience.
"I was about to get cross with you," Aziraphale insisted. Crowley arched an eyebrow at him.
"Oh? Whatever for?"
Aziraphale gestured at the gardening tools in Crowley's hands. "That! It's far too late for you to be working out here, still."
"Still light out," Crowley muttered, poking rebelliously at the soil with his trowel.
Aziraphale rolled his eyes and threw up his hands in exasperation. "It's summer, of course it's still light out! That doesn't change the fact that it's almost nine thirty." He shifted his weight, arms now folded. The slowly dwindling rays of sunset caught in the white-gold curls crowning Aziraphale's head, making them glow as if from within.
Lord, but did he look like an angel.
Crowley hissed in displeasure as he begrudgingly got to his feet, the taut muscles of his back creaking in protest. Aziraphale gave him a reproving look.
"'S not like it's going to weed itself," Crowley grumbled in a half-hearted final objection, wincing again. Now that he was standing, the ache in his back was really starting to settle in. He tried to straighten to his full height, which would give him a few inches over Aziraphale, but found that his spine would only comfortably let him stand with their eyes level.
All right, maybe he had been overdoing it a bit over the past few days.
Aziraphale pursed his lips. "Be that as it may, you mustn't work like this to the detriment of your own wellbeing. It will still be here in the morning. This is your home, Crowley, it isn't as if you'll be forced to leave if you don't turn the church grounds into Kew Gardens overnight."
"S'pose I would've been kicked out ages ago, if that were the case," Crowley acquiesced, rubbing some of the dirt on his hands onto his gardening apron. "Y'know, when I first came here, I was really excited to see the gardens," he admitted. "I'd heard how lovely they were, especially for such a small church. Was a bit of shock when I saw the state they were in."
What he didn't add was that, given Shadwell's constant undermining of any covert attempt he made to coax the gardens back to life, Crowley would have long ago gone and grovelled to the diocese to grant him a new assignment elsewhere. That is, had he not had a compelling reason to want to stay in Tadfield.
A middle-aged, cherubic man-shaped reason, to be specific.
"Well, you'll have plenty of time to restore them to their former glory, now," Aziraphale said kindly. "There's no need for you to rush anything."
Crowley hummed in agreement, and went to bend down to pick up his tools, unable to stifle a groan as he did so. Aziraphale was quick to forestall the movement with a hand to Crowley's chest, his usual hesitance to so much as brush shoulders with Crowley vanishing under his concern. Allow me, he probably said, but Crowley couldn't hear him over the sudden rush of blood to his ears, pounding through his rapidly beating heart in a way that Aziraphale would surely be able to feel beneath his fingers.
Aziraphale said something else that Crowley's brain refused to parse, too focused on trying to keep the other priest from realising the effect the simple touch was having on him. He managed to nod, not sure what he was agreeing to, but was rather proud of himself for managing not to whimper when Aziraphale's hand pulled away.
"We'll just put these away first," Aziraphale told him, Crowley's brain function apparently restored now that they were no longer touching. Crowley dutifully trailed after him to the shed, putting his tools back in their rightful place. He grunted slightly when he reached to the small of his back to undo the ties of his garden apron, the motion tugging at the aching muscles of his shoulders. The sound alerted Aziraphale, who immediately fussed over him again, lifting the strap holding the apron around his neck for Crowley despite his protests. Crowley scowled as Aziraphale smiled serenely at him and hung the apron on its hook by the door. Secretly, however, he was glad that the dim, fading light meant that Aziraphale wouldn't be able to see that the tips of Crowley's ears had gone a hot, flaming red.
Aziraphale took the lead again as they both headed for the rectory they shared, both toeing off their shoes and leaving them in the rack by the door once they'd crossed the threshold.
"I imagine you'd want to shower before we begin," Aziraphale said as they headed into the living room. He picked up a book he'd left beside the sofa and took a seat, already thumbing it open. "Take your time, I'll be waiting here for you when you're done."
Crowley glanced down at the dirt packed under his nails, felt the sweaty stick of his shirt against his back, and couldn't help but agree. Whatever Aziraphale had had him agree to, it probably would be best if he cleaned himself up first. Not to mention it would give him a little bit of time to collect his thoughts, to slow the still traitorously fast gallop of his heart.
He headed upstairs, grabbed a change of clothes from his room, and did his best not to run to the bathroom, knowing Aziraphale would be able to hear the creak of the floorboards overhead if he did.
Once enshrined in the privacy of the bathroom, shower turned on and old pipes groaning laboriously as they slowly heated, Crowley sagged against the door and let out a long, shaky breath.
"Get a grip," he muttered to himself, flicking on the ancient exhaust fan. It rattled slowly to life, letting out the occasional whining protest, as the unbalanced blades scraped against the inside of the casing. "You're acting like… like he's about to lay down rose petals for you and take you to bed, when you know he couldn't find his way out of the closet if you gave him a torch and a map. And even if he could… he wouldn't do anything about it. You've both got your vows." He tore off his clothes and left them in a sullen pile on the floor, opening the shower door. Steam billowed out and he stepped inside quickly before too much could escape. He stood directly under the scalding spray, heedless of how his pale skin went instantly pink. His face was likely beyond sun-kissed, too, given the time he'd spent in the garden.
There wasn't much he could do about that, but at the very least he could wash the sweat from his skin, furiously scrub the dirt out from under his nails. Whatever the evening had in store for him, at least he'd be clean.
He fruitlessly tried again to piece together what Aziraphale had asked him, out in the garden. Now, though, naked and surrounded on all sides by steam, his mind only seemed to want to offer him lewd suggestions, each one more highly improbable than the last. Unbidden, he imagined Aziraphale walking into the bathroom to find out what was taking Crowley so long, then disrobing and entering the shower with Crowley, hot water cascading over them both as Aziraphale pressed him up against the tiles–
With a burst of self-disgust, Crowley realised that certain areas of his body were getting very excited indeed by such thoughts, and were responding in a way that was meant to encourage him to keep thinking those exact thoughts as he took himself in hand. He'd done it a few times in the past, now, even though it invariably left him riddled with guilt and shame. Somehow, it seemed even more egregious than usual to have a self-loathing-fuelled wank over the man he worked with, when said man was patiently awaiting his return downstairs, none the wiser.
With a sigh, he turned off the heat, standing under the cold spray for several seconds to try and keep his body from getting any funny ideas, before cutting off the water completely. Skin still pink in places, but at the very least clean, he towelled himself off, squeezing as much water out of his hair as he could. A glance in the mirror told him that he'd definitely been out in the sun too long. If he was very lucky, the skin wouldn't start peeling off over the next few days, but, given how his pale skin had historically reacted to overexposure to the sun, he wasn't exactly holding out hope. He applied some moisturiser to his face to at least draw out some of the heat, and resolved to stop being so forgetful about putting on sunscreen when he needed to.
He put on his clothes quickly, only realising once he was done that he'd gone on complete autopilot, and dressed himself as if preparing for his clerical duties, collar and all. He felt a little stupid, but knew he'd feel even stupider if he went and changed again, so he decided to leave everything as it was, and headed back downstairs. Hopefully, wearing something symbolic of the Church would help remind his unruly body, mind, and heart how they were all supposed to be behaving.
"Ready, then?" Aziraphale asked when he came back into the living room, glancing quickly at the page number before closing the book and setting it aside.
"Yep," Crowley answered, still having no idea what he'd agreed to.
"We can use my bed," Aziraphale decided. "Now that I've had a moment to think about it, the couch really is far too narrow to give us enough space to work with comfortably."
"What?" Crowley squeaked.
Aziraphale gave him an odd look. "I suppose we could do this here, with you laid out on the floor, if you'd prefer. I know that some people like a more solid surface beneath them for this sort of thing," he said, apparently unaware that he was giving Crowley a heart attack.
"You… you want me on the floor?" he managed.
Aziraphale shrugged. "Personally, I would have thought the bed would be more comfortable, but the choice is yours. This is to your benefit, after all."
"…My benefit?" Crowley asked faintly, apparently unable to do much more than echo Aziraphale's words back at him.
"Honestly, Crowley," Aziraphale replied huffily. Crowley managed to find space amidst his confusion to feel the little thrill he always did whenever Aziraphale dropped the honorific when referring to him by name. "The massage? That we discussed not twenty minutes ago, were you even listening?"
"Massage?" Crowley couldn't help but parrot. Aziraphale pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Yes. Massage. For your back. That I offered to you. Because you've been overworking yourself in the garden all week and can barely stand upright."
"Oh. Right," Crowley managed, nodding like a dashboard bobblehead on an unpaved country road. "That massage. 'Course."
"Honestly," Aziraphale huffed again, but far fonder in tone this time. "So. Out here, or on the bed?"
"Bed," Crowley said before he could stop himself.
Aziraphale nodded, standing. "Shall we, then?"
Crowley nodded mutely, and when Aziraphale began to lead them both upstairs, he followed.
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top five HL fanfic!!!!
biiiiitch you all know how hard it is for me to choose only 5. but sigh FINE here’s my all-time favorite list that isn’t 5 sorry i can’t choose 😔:
• Here in the Afterglow (89k)
“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.
Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.” 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.
• Coax the Cold (86k)
England, 1897.
English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.
• Wild and Unruly (124k)
Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.
• This Wicked Game (70k)
An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules.
• Love is a Rebellious Bird (135k)
AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.
• Fixated On One Star (53k)
Louis is just a boy with the world on his shoulders, and Harry's just a boy from the wrong side of the galaxy. A little thing like love doesn't stand a chance against a thousand years of war, at least until the right two come along to break the mold.
Or: space Romeo and Juliet AU
• Finding Lou (60k)
Louis is the nomadic stranger who wanders into Harry’s bookstore. Harry is the skeptic who falls for him.
• California Sold
Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.
A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.
• Empty Skies (134k)
For three years, Harry has been running from his past. Now, he is moving to London and pledges to fulfil his only dream -- making it big in the music industry. Not everyone has a place, though, and the competition is tough. As is his past catching up on him.
Louis is part of the biggest boy band of the world, and getting there had meant a lot of hard work, as well as sacrificing parts of his heart and soul. He's still happy. Maybe not as happy as he could be, but who is he to complain?
• And Then a Bit (159k)
“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”
Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts. (aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)
• Dream Awake (31k)
The sun leaks through the tent wall behind him the way it leaks through eyelids, bathing the boy in an ethereal half-light as he croons. The crowd is mesmerized. Louis is mesmerized. This is the most important person in the world, he thinks wildly, and then can't figure out how to take it back.
On a hazy day in August, Louis sees Harry perform at a music festival as an unsigned act and convinces him to spend the rest of the weekend in his company. Harry gets signed; life changes. They never really wake up from the dream.
• Say You’ll Remember (93.5k)
au. louis and harry are best mates that are only half aware that they're also soulmates. alternatively, louis goes to university and harry travels the world, and they always manage to find their way back to each other.
takes place over nine years, in which they love and hurt, make mistakes and learn, and above all, grow.
• Outwit, Outplay, Outlast (61k)
Survivor All-Stars AU in which Harry and Louis are just in this game to win the million dollars, but they end up with something better.
Featuring Harry's yellow swim shorts, Louis in snapbacks, and OT5 shenanigans.
• Nothing Else But Us Right Here (35k)
Louis sighs and gives himself a mental pep talk as he smooths his jumper down over his hips. He can do this. He can resist the draw of Harry Styles, because he is a responsible, mature adult, and as much as he wants to tangle his fingers in that mess of hair and map those ridiculous tattoos with his tongue, he does not want to get his daughter’s favorite teacher fired.
• Wings to Break Your Fall (103k)
strip club AU. Harry’s work and family are keeping him busy. He really isn’t looking for a relationship, doesn’t want one. He just wants Louis. Problem is, Louis has other plans.
• Leave it to the Breeze (81k)
Louis couldn’t be prouder of his bake, but there’s something—there’s something. Something about Harry Styles and the earnest way he measures, pours, mixes, scrapes. Something about the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth as he knocks the air out of his batter.
or a great british bake off au in which louis cares about winning and winning only, harry is made of sunshine and rainbow sprinkles, and niall sticks his nose into other people's business. also featuring liam as louis's best friend-slash-concerned mother, and zayn as a macaron connoisseur.
• You Come Beating Like Moth’s Wings (81k)
Harry smiles. He's only known Louis for about two hours, knows nothing about him past his first name, but he's nice and sarcastic and helpful and so, so pretty. And Harry's still got a few days left in Barcelona, and he thinks he wouldn't mind spending them with Louis.
Also known as, Harry takes the summer before uni to travel Europe and meets Louis in Barcelona, and they end up traveling together.
• Hold Me Closer (36.5k)
Louis Tomlinson is one of the most promising dancers of the English National Ballet, on track to become the youngest principal dancer in the company's history. That is, until forces conspire to significantly complicate his life, including: a surprise ballet, an unfairly attractive guest choreographer, and being pushed into a rivalry with his best mate. Featuring lots of wine, dancing, pining, and a happy ending.
• In Vogue (121k)
Fashion AU. Louis is the editor in chief of Vogue magazine, and Harry's running British GQ. Featuring Zayn as the crazy creative director and Louis' confidant, Liam as the sports writer that gets to sit front row at fashion week and DJ Neil as the only sane person in the whole story. (There are no skinny jeans in this fic)
• These Things Will Never Change for Us at All (1.5k)
The room falls silent as they stay wrapped up in each other. Harry can feel Louis’ soft breaths on his neck, and he almost thinks Louis’ fallen asleep until he says softly, “How did you know you were in love with me?”
Or, Harry and Louis look back on five years.
• A Runaway American Dream (15k)
AU. they take route 66 with only each other and their secrets.
• Things Have Gotten Closer to the Sun (49k)
it’s strange, making the choice to face his past—it almost feels like he’s heading for the sun straight on, like he’s screaming come on and burn me, i deserve it.
when a solar flare is announced to end the world in twelve days, harry reunites with the people that he used to know better than the back of his own hand.
• Here (in your arms) (60k)
the one where Louis is a successful real estate agent and Harry works at a retirement home. They’ve never had a real home. Up until now.
(Starring Liam Payne as a fitness trainer, Zayn as an artist, and Niall, who busks.)
• These Inconvenient Fireworks (190k)
Future AU in which nobody tries out for X Factor but the boys end up finding one other eventually anyway. Louis is a jaded bastard who owns a cat named Duchess and teaches drama to teenagers, Harry is an idealistic aspiring photographer/part-time footy coach, Zayn teaches English lit and wears leather jackets, Liam saves people from burning buildings, and Niall is Niall.
• In Dreams (23k)
AU. When Harry moves to a new city, his new flat come with a number of sweet, anonymous gifts and surprises that brighten his days. Could it be a friendly ghost? Another friendly presence in his new building is his tattooed neighbor, Louis, who seems determined to put a smile back on his face.
• My Heart is Breathing for this Moment in Time (160k)
When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old. Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they’re put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true. Except for the small fact that Louis doesn’t know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry’s always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started.
A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile.
• Paint the Sky with Stars (63k)
On 10 April 1912, Harry Styles boards the finest ship the world has ever seen. Still grieving the death of their mother, he and his sister are being sent to America to live with a callous uncle who cares more about his business connections than family. Harry prepares himself for a long, disappointing voyage alone in his stateroom. Louis Tomlinson has borrowed and saved, and finally has enough to purchase a Third Class ticket to America. With all of his belongings in a single ruck sack, he boards the Titanic filled with hope for a brighter future. Never one to sit still, he can’t resist exploring the massive ship, and soon goes sneaking into First Class in a stolen steward’s uniform. By a twist of fate, Louis finds himself in Harry’s stateroom, entranced by the most attractive man he’s ever laid eyes on. He keeps returning day after day, even if he doesn’t understand what it is about Harry that continues pulling him in. That’s all right; Louis has a week to figure it out, and Harry is plenty willing to help. Except they don’t have a week. They have four days. Because on 15 April, their entire world will be turned upside down.
Or, the historically accurate Titanic AU with a happy ending.
• Through Eerie Chaos (102k)
For as long as anyone can remember, Old Hillsbridge Manor has always been believed to be haunted. Everyone in the village agrees and keeps a respectful, fearful, distance. New in town after a bad breakup and an internship that led to disappointment rather than a permanent job, Harry Styles figures taking pictures of the decrepit building could be a great new creative project. Or at least a much-needed distraction while he searches for a job and crashes at his parents’ new house. No one warned him about the apparitions though; about the music, the laughter, the people who flicker and vanish when you call after them, the echoes of a past that should be long gone… Harry has never believed in spirits but even he can admit that there’s something weird going on. What starts as mere curiosity evolves into a full-blown investigation and soon enough, Harry finds himself making friends with an aristocrat from the 1920s and struggling with finding the best way to tell him that he’s dead.
The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process.
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Hi all, I haven’t recced some fics in awhile but...today is fic writers appreciation day! And there are so many fics that I love so very much and have brought so much happiness into my life.
And it just so happens I have a personal document where i’ve kept track of fics I’ve read for the past 3-4 years, categorized by tropes. So I thought it would be fun to rec you my all-time favorite fic from each of my personal categories! There are so many good fics so I hope you enjoy. And if you want a full fic rec list for any of these categories, please tell me!
And a big thank you again to all of the lovely authors out there, I hope you have a lovely day and now how valued your work is.
A/B/O
Sisterwives by jaerie
This was it, the moment Louis had been waiting for his entire life. Giddy excitement bubbled up as he held hands and stared up at his soon-to-be alpha and husband and grinned. The ceremony was small and simple, but Louis didn’t mind. Fresh flowers pinned into his hair and a brand new outfit was all he needed to feel special in front of their few witnesses. It was just some members of his family and a few of the church elders in attendance as was customary for any marriage beyond the first wife within the faith.
First wives were the ones to have elaborate weddings with the whole community involved. An alpha’s first wedding was a celebration of an their coming of age, his first steps into fulfilling God’s prophecy. There were many glories for an omega that came with being a first wife but also many responsibilities. Louis had never aspired to be a first wife or even a second. He wasn’t experienced enough to be the leader of an alpha’s many wives and children and he didn’t think he’d be up to the task.
Louis was just fine in the position he was stepping into as the seventh.
Or Louis thinks he's getting everything he's ever dreamed of. Harry helps him find what makes him truly happy.
Action/Adventure
The Dead of July by whimsicule
Harry is Captain America, and Louis’ been dead for 70 years.
Age Gap
White Pages, White Lace, Big Hands, Pretty Face by thechesirepussycat
“He touches his sides, his neck, his lips, all the places Harry has just been, all the places that still tingle from Harry’s touch. Such a strange feeling Louis has, so unreal and nerve-racking. He can’t begin to describe what Harry has done to him, what about Harry makes Louis want to call him… Daddy.“
Or, a gratuitous Sugar Daddy!Harry and Student!Louis AU.
Angst
Bot by tomlinsunshine (11k)
Zayn builds robots; Harry is a big fan of his latest model.
Break Up
got the sunshine on my shoulders by hattalove
five years ago, harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist. he didn't have much regard for what he left behind - a life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.
now, harry has everything he could possibly want: he's rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. but when said boyfriend proposes to him, he's forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past - and louis, who's spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers harry sent him.
(or, an au based on the movie sweet home alabama.)
Canon
nonstop earthquake dreams of you by lumineres
And there's heat behind it, blazing, plasmatic, like stars crashing together, like an explosion in space, like a supernova, like a black hole--everything else sucked out of existence. There's no bed and there's no pillow and they're not lying down, just floating somewhere, somehow, and there's no room and there's no X Factor house and there's no Niall snuffling or Liam's deep, even breathing and there's no wind or traffic outside and there's no hum of the heating unit and it's all just Louis. All encompassingly Louis.
or, harry falls hard and finds louis already at the bottom
Classics
Love Is A Rebellious Bird by 100percentsassy and gloria_andrews
AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.
College/Uni
Could be Kissing My Fruit Punch Lips by thechesirepussycat
Harry happens upon a porn site that specializes in live videos and sort of falls in love with the cute boy he only knows as Kitty.
And then he gets the surprise of his life when he finds out Kitty attends his university...
Crime
Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by haroldslouis
1997 AU where Harry is a bank robber and Louis falls in love with him
Dom/Sub
No Control Club series by SadaVeniren
Harry, a popular BDSM blogger, writes a negative review about Louis’ club. Louis wants to have a chance to make it up to him.
Dunkirk/Alex
Poison & Wine by tilthesundies
Alex comes home from the war to find a stranger living in his flat.
Dystopian/Apocalypse
things have gotten closer to the sun by starseas
when a solar flare is announced to end the world in twelve days, harry reunites with the people that he used to know better than the back of his own hand.
Enemies to Lovers
you flower, you feast by stylinsoncity
He's King of the Underworld, but don't assume Louis has it all. He could stand for some excitement in his monotonous, eternal life and maybe, even.....a soulmate.
(Despite not having a soul.)
And along came "Harry"
Established Relationship
I Only Ever Want You by itsmiz
Louis and Harry's relationship goes through a series of changes while Liam and Zayn discover new things about themselves, as well.
Or: Louis & Harry and Liam & Zayn begin to have sex in front of each other and a lot of kink-discovery results from that.
Fairy Tale
Red by frosteddream
Shockwaves were sent through the village after the McPherson family was savagely killed. There were people who feared the beast that did it, and then there was Louis, or, as most people liked to call him, Red. (Little Red Riding Hood AU.)
Fake Dating
And Then a Bit by infinitelymint
Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.
Famous (non-1D AU)
a million roses (bathed in rock n roll) by deLILah
au. harry sings in smoky dive bars; louis misses his flight home. they go to coney island in the morning.
(aka - harry is lana del rey, and louis makes him a star.)
Fashion
Just my style by thoughtsickles
Harry is sick, and the only thing that might help him is the pheromones from his mate--problem is, he hasn't got a mate.
Louis' just been disowned, and taking part in a medical study where he has to cuddle with some strange alpha seems to be his only option for earning a bit of cash.
The hippies and Omega Rights campaigners are busy changing the world--but all Harry wants is a chance to live.
Fluff
Dreaming of You by velvetoscar
The Begrudging Starbucks AU.
The world is winter and steamed milk and creamy espresso shots. The world is a never ending queue. The world is a Starbucks logo and a pink-cheeked smile from Niall and a bored scowl from Zayn and the world is Louis watching his best mate, Liam, fall in love with their newest customer, Harry. Who may or may not be in love with Louis. The world is cruel.
Frat
Soft Feet, Fast Hands, Can’t Lose by dolce_piccante
American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).
Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football.
A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?
Friends to Lovers
OmegaVision by jaerie
Tomlin Networks Presents: OmegaVision starring Louis Tomlinson! The world's first 24/7 reality channel available in over 150 countries worldwide following the life of the first male omega born in over a century. Follow Louis through his daily routine, the ups and downs of growing up or just leave him on for comfort. There are many reasons to tune in but, no matter what yours may be, there's always a part of Louis that is just like you!
Or a Truman Show au that nobody asked for where Louis is Truman and Harry just wants to be his mate
Girl Direction
Never Enough by idekboo
Louis couldn't get enough of Harry and that gorgeous body of hers. She wasn't shy about letting her know.
High School
I found a love (darling just dive right in) by wonderlou
Louis, an omega with very little control. Harry, an alpha with a lot of emotion. Neither of them have any idea what do to with this little thing called love, but they'll be damned if they don't put up a good fight.
Historical
Coax the Cold by MediaWhore
England, 1897.
English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.
Miscellaneous/Unique
the impossible now by stylinsoncity
A wish on Christmas Eve sends Louis to an alternate dimension where Harry is a member of One Direction.
Mpreg
The Things I’d Do to Wake Up Next to You by dirtymattress (36k)
Harry wakes up to a pregnant Louis Tomlinson and a wedding band on his finger.
Mythology
Say Hallelujah, Say Goodnight by alivingfire
Louis is an angel who is just a little too bad to be good, Harry is a demon who is just a little too good to be bad, and they're both a little too in love to be impartial when angels and demons go to war.
PWP
mr. tomlinson by iwillpaintasongforlou
Louis is a billionaire CEO who makes grown men cry and rival companies crumble. He's also an omega. Harry is the quiet cupcake of a man he calls his alpha and the only one who gets to see Louis as anything less than fearsome.
Roommates
streetwise hercules by bottomlinsons
Uni AU, where Louis pretends to be Harry's boyfriend to scare away his one night stands.
Royalty
feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream by togetherwecouldbealright
Harry is a journalist with a lot of secrets and Louis is the future king of the United Kingdom; they live together for 60 days.
Spies
never gonna dance again by togetherwecouldbealright
Louis is a spy and Harry is a dancer. The only real thing they know is each other.
Soulmates
Nameless Night by green_feelings
For their 18th birthday, every person receives a letter that reads a simple date. That is the date you'll meet your soulmate.
Harry and Louis have different beliefs, live in different worlds and have different dreams, hopes and fears. Yet, they're not so different from each other when it comes to love. When their paths cross, there is no doubt they belong together. Except for that one, essential difference: they didn't receive the same date.
Or, a fic about differences that make no difference at all: Harry and Louis are soulmates. In every way possible. Featuring Niall as a role model, and Liam and Zayn as a different kind of role models.
Summer Romance
Rivers til I Reach You by embodied
AU. Louis studies astronomy; Harry studies Louis. They spend their summers on the water and it shouldn't be complicated (spoiler: it is).
Supernatural
Howls Like a Beast (You Flower, You Feast) by indiaalaphawhiskey (16k)
France, 1754.
Château de Versailles.
“You don’t love me,” Louis had said, utterly blasé as he callously fractured the heart of a Harry that was just barely eighteen.
“I do,” Harry had insisted pleadingly, green eyes already watering.
Louis had rolled his eyes, exasperated and flippant in the way only beautiful, young boys could be when faced with the affections of a baby prince. He had run his finger down Harry’s cheek then, had forced him to look into his eyes as he delivered the final blow.
“You’ll change your mind once you’ve seen more of the world,” Louis had teased, pressing a brutally delicate kiss onto Harry’s lovely, pure cheek. “Once you’ve been properly defiled.” He had whispered filthily, delighted by the gasp he heard, the frantic pink blush that had rested high on Harry’s cheeks, the power he had felt at knowing he could make the Crown Prince squirm.
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[TRANCRIPT] EPISODE 14: ROAD TRIP (NO APOLOGIES)
Cathy 00:03
Hello and welcome back to Untitled Tallgeese Podcast, a podcast where four old friends rewatch and discuss Gundam Wing. I am Cathy, your moderator for this episode, and I am joined as always, by Kat, Mallory, and Caitlin. If you have been following along, you know that this week's episode — Episode 27, Locus of Victory and Defeat and Episode 28, Passing Destinies — are recap episodes, following the unofficial Season Finale from last time. As mentioned previously, we will be spending the bulk of this episode discussing a topic near and dear to all of our hearts, Gundam Wing fanfic from the early 2000ish through the lens of one very special fic, Road Trip by Sunhawk. But first, there isn't a lot to talk about that's new in episodes 27 and 28, but I would be remiss if I didn't mention two bits of new information we got. First, that Relena has switched wardrobes, and is now in a Sanc Kingdom school uniform. And she no longer is informing Heero that he needs to come over here and kill her but rather to return to her, echoing Quatre's telepathic insight into Heero's Golden Aura from the end of Episode 26. And second, Treize is now being placed under house arrest by the Romefeller Foundation for his speech in front of Duke Dermail. At the end of Episode 28 we see that he's not alone in house arrest, but rather joined by a ghostly Lady Une still in her peaceful ambassador outfit, who joins Treize, as he looks at blueprints of yet another mysterious Gundam-like mobile suit on his laptop, which spoiler alert, is Epyon. I think, you know, these are interesting episodes. And Caitlin, I know you had something to say about the way the recaps are done in 27 and 28.
Caitlin 01:45
Yeah, I think that it's really interesting how they, I mean, that new information comes to us via these framing narratives, where you have Relena, and a little bit Heero, and then Treize narrating everything that's happened to them. So we get a Relena narration where she's much more strongly identifying herself as the ruler of the Sanc Kingdom. And then we get a Treize narration that links together a lot of his dubious political thought, in the midst of his defeat.
Kat 02:18
It felt like the first time we really understood like, exactly what Lady Une thought his politics were, or his plans were and how he changed those plans, like explicitly.
Cathy 02:29
Yes, there was this moment where he reflects on the beauty of where he is trapped, which I believe is the Luxembourg base, but I don't know if they ever say that. And he articulates it as if to say, "this is what I wanted to preserve. This is what I joined OZ thinking it was to preserve," and then traces his change in thought, which I don't remember that ever coming through necessarily. What he thought he was doing originally before he became the Treize that we know.
Kat 02:56
Cathy, I did want to say that it felt like Treize was really reciting from your theory of anime from last episode when he talks about these "warriors with rebellious wings," and how their like purity of spirit completely changed his life.
Cathy 03:12
Yes, I love it. I felt like [laughter]--
Mallory 03:15
Yeah, I wrote, "Cathy! strong wills, what purity! theory of anime!" in my notes. So there you go.
Caitlin 03:22
Now we have to address the possibility that Cathy is Treize. Treize was God, he was Hannibal, and now he's Cathy.
Cathy 03:28
It does, I think, speak to why I've always found Treize a really fascinating character, even if I think he is a huge asshole, and none of his ideas make any sense. But you know, I am always drawn to this idea of people who, and I think I phrased it as "get sucked into other people's deranged orbits?" and Treize is both a person who creates a deranged orbit around himself [laughter] and also gets sucked into the orbit of the Gundam pilots, so I do love that about him.
Caitlin 03:56
Interesting. That explains a lot about you, but also makes me understand Treize a little bit better framing him that way.
Kat 04:03
I know you're sick of her but I did like that Une finally figured out the soul of OZ, that the purpose of battles isn't limited to making ideals into reality.
Mallory 04:11
Since you brought it up... why does Treize refer to her as like, my love? Or beloved? He says, "Lady Une, my love, rest in peace." So is the show trying to make me believe that Treize has feelings for Lady Une?
Kat 04:26
Is it just awkward writing?
Caitlin 04:28
I think it's just awkward writing but also kind of that. I think the dub at least -- and I only listened to the dub this time -- decided that Treize was in love with her and is going with that.
Kat 04:39
Both of these episodes felt very much like, "Hey, remember this heterosexual pairing?"
Cathy 04:44
Yes! And I remember one time we talked about whether or not this show actually ships heterosexual pairings or just, they thought they were but they're just so horrible at writing heterosexual romances [laughter] that everything comes off really strange and this is definitely an example of that. Like, I could see both sides of this, that we are supposed to believe that Treize had romantic feelings for Lady Une and then it just was written so poorly because nobody on the show has met a real woman before. [laughter] Or, and I guess this would be my interpretation, it isn't that he is like romantically interested in her or was in love with her. But she was very important to him and represented, you know, one of the people that I think he wielded the biggest influences on and that touches him deeply. And her quote unquote, fate being that she is, quote unquote, dead at the end of Episode 26 weighs heavily on him.
Caitlin 05:40
But she's not dead. [laughing] Why does he say it? I know that in the episode, it's meant to be a fake out like, Oh, we know, we saw Lady Une die. And then Treize is talking to her as though she's dead so it's really not until the very end of episode 28 that we get the reveal that she's alive. It doesn't make a lot of sense.
Cathy 05:59
So let's address fake outs because there are characters talking in episodes 27 and 28, and I'm not sure if we are supposed to believe that they're talking at the time of the flashback footage being shown to us, or afterwards, right now, in the world of Episode 28.
Kat 06:16
I think Relena's was the only narration that actually seems like 100% anchored to what we were looking at. So... like Treize definitely we hear his earlier thoughts at the beginning and then he explains how they've changed, but with Heero it's just sort of like A, and then B.
Mallory 06:34
Right, when Heero in Episode 27 says, "I don't consider the other Gundam pilots my comrades, I've never had comrades from the start," I have no idea if this narration is trying to tell me that Heero at this point in time currently, after Episode 26, does not believe the Gundam pilots are his friends. Or if he's referring to how he felt back then.
Caitlin 07:00
I under-understood that as definitely he's talking about that point in the flashback.
Cathy 07:05
It is kind of thrown out there. And it seems like by now he would have had so much interaction with these guys, especially at least with Trowa, that it would be kind of wild for him to say that [laughing]
Caitlin 07:18
He considers Trowa his comrade boyfriend, y'know? [cat meows in background]
Mallory 07:20
It was making me laugh because we've been reading this fic, this road trip arc. And it's kind of incredible how much this arc -- and we'll talk about this -- how much this arc and formed my idea of what the Gundam pilots' relationships were or like, their, their relationship dynamics or that they /had/ relationships with each other. So when I read all these fic, I was thinking like, "Wow, I didn't see any of this coordination in the show. Like there are no safe houses in the episodes that I watched. Oh, that like, it's okay, that must have come later." And now I'm later in the series, [laughing] and I'm finding out that actually, they interact very tangentially for the most part, where I was imagining a lot more camaraderie as the episodes progressed.
Kat 08:11
I know in Episode Zero, you were really distraught to learn that it's not like, "let's all five meet up and team up!" ...
Mallory 08:19
Yeah!
Kat 08:19
...kind of anime
Mallory 08:21
I mean, I'm really enjoying where it's going now. And I enjoy the sort of bits of relationships that we're getting and the ways that their personalities bounce off each other. And that's what makes, that's what makes Gundam Wing such a rich field to mine for fic, because you get all of these like, glimpses of what these characters could be to each other, within the canon of the show. And it's really easy for writers like Sunhawk to kind of just like, take them and run.
Cathy 08:52
Yes, so let's talk about Road Trip by Sunhawk. Road Trip is part of a larger, 17 part series called the Road Trip Arc by its fans. We are going to be talking mostly about just the first installment -- which is actually barely shippy. Like there are hints of the relationship that will come to be especially the 1x2 part of it. And the rest of the series is very staunchly 1x2 with background 3x4, question mark with Wufei, which I'd really love to talk about later. But at least in the first part, it's kind of more of a, I don't know if action story is the right word... You know, it starts at some unspecified time in the canon. Heero and Duo are escaping a mission that is kind of going south. They land on earth, on a beach. Heero is badly injured, Duo is you know, kind of beat up but is still mostly functional. You know, he's not internally bleeding and concussed, which is what Heero is. So he's forced to drive them to safety, and eventually to a rendezvous point where the idea is that Quatre and the others will pick them up. But when they get there OZ is basically hot on their heels. So Duo is able to leave Heero, basically in secluded cover, but he has to redirect OZ's attention, which gets him into more trouble. And he almost essentially drowns. So exhausted, pummeled within an inch of his life, he limps his way back to a safe house, again, unspecified location, or why he knows that that thing is there, but whatever, where all the rest of the pilots are staying at. So that's Quatre, Trowa, and Wufei. Heero's already in the hospital, you know, Duo basically passes out. He's given immediate medical attention, including drugs that cause him to lash out and nearly kill everybody around him. But finally, Heero, near death himself, manages to sneak out of his hotel--hospital room to sit by Duo's side, which calms Duo down and the fic ends with them having this really cute exchange about Duo's IVs. So I did want to talk about the landscape of fanfic reading at this time, before we really dive deep into Road Trip itself. Do you guys have any memories, you know, or impressions of what it was like at the time when you first started reading Gundam Wing fanfic?
Caitlin 11:12
I remember that... I'm pretty sure I read this fic on a site that had either an all black background with white text; a sepia tinted background, that was like, you know, like a light, brownish, and then like a sort of off gray text. Because back in 2000, the only HTML any of us knew was how to change background color and how to change font color. You could put one image... They had gifs back then. And I don't, that's probably why my eyes are bad now. [laughter]
Kat 11:45
Yeah, it was either like very weirdly colored websites or really, really intensely over-styled websites, where it like, it's a little pop up and it's butterfly-shaped.
Mallory 11:58
Yeah. And there's like glitter and sparkles when you move your mouse and stuff. I didn't have fast like, I didn't get DSL until really late, like I was a senior in high school. So all of these websites just like crashed our internet constantly. [laughing] It was, it was hard for me to read those kinds of archives and stuff.
Caitlin 12:22
The point here is that these fics were hosted on like, a bunch of different sites. And it was just small, privately run, I guess you could say archives, like it's like it's one person who wants to save all the Gundam Wing fic in the world. Which is actually why we have Road Trip preserved on AO3, Archive of Our Own, which is that it's part of the Open Doors Project where a archivist by the name of Dacia used to run a site called A Little Piece of Gundam Wing, she was really into Duo. She read pretty much every Duo pairing if I recall correctly, like she was really into like all Duo pairings and she started collecting fic from various places where like, she-she wanted to curate like the best fic in her mind. So she would like ask authors, "Oh, can I host this on my site too?" after finding the fic other places and so she collected a bunch of, a bunch of fic. And as probably a lot of us know, Archive of Our Own, which is run by the Organization for Transformative Works, has a program called Open Doors where they will import archives that are closing, fanfiction archives that are closing, or that the maintainers just don't want to maintain anymore. So they maintain, they import them wholesale from the original archive and put them on Archive of Our Own.
Kat 13:49
It's pretty great because there are tons of fic from that time period that I wish I could remember or find or go back and to be able to like even search stuff on AO3 that was on those is great.
Cathy 14:02
So we've talked about this before, but that's where Gundam Wing Addiction is actually pretty funny because they did rescue some of these sites. You know, we talked about the Izumi Fountain District with Alexe Cinz stuff last time, but they also rescued, I want to say it's Lev or Levwolf or something like that?
Kat 14:23
Leviathan's Lair.
Cathy 14:25
The-the Leviathan's Lair. There we go.
Kat 14:26
Ooh, I remember this site. Wow--
Mallory 14:28
Yeah
Kat 14:28
Looking at this site is like getting slapped in the face.
Cathy 14:31
Yeah, I definitely read a lot of fic on A Little Piece of Gundam Wing, which I remember had a lot of text that was like accent text in orange [laughter]. And one of my favorite authors. well, they were an author pair, TB and Marsh, they were hosted on A Little Piece of Gundam Wing, that's where I first discovered them. But same thing with Sunhawk, who wrote two really famous series you know, Road Trip is the first one -- and in my memory, the more famous one although I think some people might say it's the Ion Arc, which I really don't remember anymore.
Kat 15:06
No, like reading Road Trip -- it's sort of like if I didn't read Road Trip, I read a bunch of fics like it, but the Ion Arc doesn't really ring a bell.
Cathy 15:15
Ok, yeah. So it was also the one that was easiest to talk about because the first part of Ion isn't really meaty enough, I think to talk about whereas Road Trip, the first installment is almost perfectly self-encompassing of a lot of stuff. In terms of dates, you know, I cannot find a definitive date of when Sunhawk first wrote and posted Road Trip, the first archive I could find that was still crawled by Web Archive, thank you Web Archive, was from November 2001 on Steelsong, who was another moderator of a large network of websites, a lot of which were Gundam Wing websites and specifically had their own Gundam Wing fanfic archive. By the time that Steelsong had put Sunhawk on their site, which was some time around November 2001, Sunhawk had already written much of Road Trip, she had already written the first six installments, which is a lot of fic. And at that time, at least in 2001, 2002, Sunhawk was writing Road Trip concurrently with Ion. My suspicion is that Sunhawk probably first wrote this on a mailing list, you know, the 1x2 mailing list was a really popular one at the time, and so maybe it was that she first started there and then later got into the archives. But this would mean that Sunhawk probably started writing Gundam Wing fic right after Gundam Wing's run on Toonami in 2000. So another thing I did want to point out is that we are really lucky now that Gundam Wing is available on streaming on Hulu, that there's all these wiki sites that we could basically find all the information we would want. It's possible that Sunhawk did not actually have a way to fact check anything that she was writing at the time. And so you know, one thing I did want to talk about with the fic was this indeterminate canon timeline issue, I don't know when in the series, this was supposed to happen. You know, Deathscythe is called Deathscythe. Much later in the series, Wufei's Gundam is referred to as Altron, which is his second Gundam. But we don't ever get this kidnapping phase that happens in the fic. So I don't know. But then again, I realized when I was Sunawk in 2001, how was she supposed to have checked that? Right?
Kat 17:29
I think also, nobody gave a shit back then. [laughs]
Mallory 17:32
Yeah. Like, it's also sort of like, did it really matter to your enjoyment? Like, you have all the elements of the Gundam Wing pilots and them interacting and the shipping, and like, it doesn't really matter what canon we're supposed to be in because we're already out of, outside of canon.
Kat 17:52
I feel like there were only like two timelines for fic and it was basically like pre-Endless Waltz and then post-Endless Waltz. I never really felt like, even though there's definitely a definitive plot split between, like, from all the episodes we've seen, and all the episodes we're about to see, I never really felt like fic did.
Caitlin 18:12
It's, it's sort of an interesting question in like Film Studies, where, you know, up until VHS, there was no way to really rewatch a movie that you were writing about. So a lot of film criticism and film theory was written by people who had only like, watched the movie once. So there's, it's kind of like a pathology we have nowadays that we can rewatch everything over and over again, so we can get this sort of like perfect timeline, this perfect like, sense of a film. Whereas in the past, like nobody ever watched anything like that. And there are, there are some film theorists nowadays who's still argue for that as like the true model of cinema, though obviously, that's much less prominent now. That, that gets into my whole idea of fanfic as a form of like interpretation, like fanfic is like a type of criticism of the original series.
Kat 19:01
Yeah, absolutely. And the thing that people wanted more of in Gundam Wing was gay shit and safe houses.
Mallory & Caitlin 19:08
Yeah.
Caitlin 19:09
And it's and it's easy to just like put that in. Like reading Road Trip, I wasn't thinking too much about like, where does this fit in the timeline because who cares?
Cathy 19:16
This is a first person POV fic, which in my mind now is pretty rare for big fanfics to be first person POV. But you, Mallory, had noted how much this voice sounded like the dub Duo voice.
Mallory 19:30
Yeah, she has gotten Duo's voice down. [laughs] I think it's just the slang that she kind of throws in there, the sort of casual way that Duo thinks and speaks feels very "of the show." Like I hear Scott McNeil's voice in my head [laughs] reading her fic is how good I think it is. Like there's like a cheesy earnestness in the dialogue of both the show and the fic that I think like works really well and is like really charming.
Caitlin 20:05
And I think that, so I think Duo's voice is very well established and it is at least, I only read the first two parts, but in the second part which is Heero's first person point of view, Duo's dialogue lines are also very strongly Scott McNeil-esque, I felt. I think Heero's voice is a little bit less distinct. One of my struggles with these fics was like, does this read as Heero to me? Like I really wasn't sure. And I'll say with regards to the first person point of view, maybe this gets us on to a different topic, but there are so many things about this fic where if I opened a fic like this now in 2020, I would hit I would hit the back button so hard.
Cathy 20:48
No, I want to talk about this, this is a great topic. I love this.
Caitlin 20:51
So I would never read something with this much violence. I'd always be like, what I don't want to read that, I don't want to read Duo getting beaten up or tortured, or whatever.
Mallory & Kat 21:00
Oh! [laughter]
Caitlin 21:02
I know! I like, I don't, I don't read that sort of fic these days. Like I don't read whump, the ancient genre of whump. [laughs]
Kat 21:10
Oh, whump I guess is like a ancient genre but an everlasting genre to me.
Caitlin 21:15
Yes.
Kat 21:15
Cathy, when you were trying to classify this fic, I was thinking, "this is definitely whump, pre-slash."
Mallory & Caitlin & Cathy 21:21
Yes, yes. Yes.
Mallory 21:22
At least part one is pre-slash.
Kat 21:24
Yeah
Caitlin 21:25
And I would never read something like that these days... Like if it was, it was tagged pre-slash, rated M, and I be like, "but how can it be rated M if they don't have sex?" I'd be like, "no, there's got to be some other reason for this to be rated M, I can't handle it. I need to go back." Like I would hit the back button so hard. And I'd be wrong because this fic is really good.
Kat 21:47
It definitely feels from, from an older time~
Cathy 21:50
Yes, I agree. And I second everything Caitlin said. This fic was surprisingly readable and I know that sounds like a backhanded compliment but what I mean is, I didn't expect it to still sound as good and like something I would see someone write now, but it is. It's still really good, you know the voices are really good, the dialogue are really, is really good. But everything about it screams back button. Like I hated Quatre and Trowa even in this fic. [laughing]
Caitlin 22:19
Oh my god, oh my god [laughter]
Cathy 22:20
[laughter] Even though they do nothing, I hated them. Outside of Gundam Wing I did not ever read whump or hurt/comfort fic, you know, this was just not a genre that I was ever interested in. In Gundam Wing it was almost unavoidable?
Kat 22:33
I was gonna say there's no way [crosstalk]
Cathy 22:34
because of the plot [crosstalk] So you kind of had to--
Kat
especially if you like Duo--
Cathy
Especially if you liked Duo! And then of course all of the little fandom tropes that kill me now about the fic might actually have not yet been as deeply entrenched in fanon at the time she was writing as they are now but--
Caitlin 22:51
True
Cathy 22:51
Certainly now when I read it, I'm like, well, there's the safe house.
Mallory 22:55
Yeah, it's like a checklist almost. Like oh, there's that mention of Duo's hair smelling like sandalwood,
Cathy 23:02
Yes!
Caitlin 23:02
Why sandalwood?
Mallory 23:03
It was always sandalwood and it was always Duo. Duo's hair always smelled like sandalwood..
Kat 23:08
I mean it might be this fic though, like this is The the fic, the landscape of fic reading and stuff, there was just less of it and like the people who are into it are like really spending time to find it and stuff. We're talking about different archives, I read like everything on 1x2x1--
Mallory 23:10
Mmhmm
Kat 23:10
Uh wing-- Shinigami and Wing like and so I think it was like, fanon still coalesces pretty fast now but I think because there's less access to source material too it's like so much easier for it to grow like this, just sort of permeate the entire fandom, not just one pairing.
Mallory 23:48
Yeah, I mean like Kat you were saying earlier you may not have read this particular fic but you have definitely read 10 or 15 other ones that are very similar to it in terms of what you can expect from the action and the characters and the pairings.
Kat 24:04
Duo is gonna get hurt. Heero is gonna be angry over something that he doesn't need to be angry about. Trowa is gonna to be a calm head, Quatre's the kind heart. Wufei I like in this because he's like the friend, the bro, instead of the standoffish fifth guy.
Mallory 24:19
Yeah,
Kat 24:19
so that's nice--
Caitlin 24:20
Yeah. Wufei good in this but he has a better like,
Kat 24:25
Rapport?
Caitlin 24:25
He has more rapport with Duo than Heero does [laughter]
Mallory 24:28
Yes. I was going to say--
Caitlin 24:31
I'm sure we were all in on this but I was side shipping Duo and Wufei a lot. Wufei gave him a bath!
Mallory & Kat 24:38
Wufei gets him!
Cathy 24:40
Do you guys, can I spoil something about the rest of the Road Trip arc?
Caitlin 24:43
Yes!
Mallory & Kat 24:44
Yeah.
Cathy 24:45
So I okay. And I will first give readers this warning, if you do want to read the rest of the installments of Road Trip, there are warnings on AO3 but I must add that there is a significant part of Duo's backstory that deals with rape and trauma and especially rape of Duo when he was very under age so--
Caitlin 25:10
This also something that would be auto back button for me.
Cathy 25:13
Yeah so I have to I have to put in that disclaimer because I don't want people wandering into the rest of the story. Road Trip the first installment is fine but the rest of the story this is, this is a big part of his character so please don't read it if it is triggering. But one thing about Wufei is you find out later he actually has a BIG honkin' crush on Duo and he is almost always--
Mallory 25:36
I must have read this.
Caitlin 25:37
Nooooo!
Cathy 25:37
He is almost always there basically like helping like pick Duo up and like--
Caitlin 25:43
no [crosstalk] this is too sad!
Cathy 25:43
Supplements this like emotional stuff that like Heero doesn't get because Heero has a bad problem
Caitlin 25:49
[agonized] Noooo--
Cathy 25:49
in Road Trip of like treating Duo as like too fragile which pisses Duo off
Kat
That was a common dynamic.
Cathy
He comes to this like realization that he's like really in love with Duo but then he has to shelve it because he realizes that Duo and Heero are soulmates? And so he like, he says he'll be a friend forever and he gives like do this plush dragon. And then the whole thing is it's set up to be eventually a Wufei and Sally Po story? But the very last installment -- that is part 16 of the 16 part series -- is essentially a story where Duo has an anxiety freak out while Heero's away. He calls Wufei over to his apartment, they spend a night together completely platonically. Duo realizes that Wufei is like eaten up inside by something that Wufei won't tell Duo about. And it's like this crush, which all of us know because we all read the part with the Wufei point of view, but like Duo didn't get the memo.
Mallory
Oh my god?
Kat
I picked up on this and I only read one chapter.
Caitlin
I can't handle this.
Cathy
So he's not sure what's happening. And that at the very end, you know, Wu Fei is like basically telling Duo that he doesn't want to start dating Sally Po because he's afraid of like, basically something that like, and he phrases it in a way that makes Duo think he's talking about his former dead wife, but it's actually about Duo. [crosstalk: No!] And Duo says to him, you have to let the past go. And so then Wufei does and call Sally up for a date.
Kat
Okay, that plush dragon thing just lit up eight synapses.
Caitlin
I hate this.
Kat
I have read this fic, 100%.
Caitlin 25:57
It's possible that this is why I got into 2x5.
Cathy 27:32
So I just had to add this here because like, I truly felt the same way. Like I shipped Wufei and Duo was so hard and the more Heero like became this like, super protective like... I like this story, but I don't buy it as Heero characterization. Like I don't think Heero was very convincing. But I do find Duo and Wufei very convincing in the series. [laughs]
Caitlin 27:51
Yeaaah.
Kat 27:51
I think this is a big problem with a lot of Heero fanon characterization at the time, though, because like the logical conclusion of the fanon characterization of Heero is just a huge asshole nobody wants to date. [laughs] When the Toonami series aired, it was like a ton of 1x2. That was it. It was like 1x2, 3x4 blah, blah but I think as fanon crystallized like pairing diversity also increased.
Caitlin 28:17
Yeah, the thing is that I'm fine reading fanfic between assholes that nobody would want to date. That is, tends to be the type of fanfic that I read anyway.
Kat 28:27
Look, I get that.
Caitlin 28:27
So Heero being terrible is fine. The problem is that this fic characterizes him as less terrible than he seems to actually be?
Mallory 28:36
Mmm.
Caitlin 28:36
Like, I don't think Heero is this, I don't think he's this protective. I don't think he's this in tune with his feelings. Part Two, really, like, as some of you might know, I never read established relationship fic, so I wasn't going to continue past Part Two anyway. Even though they have a lot of problems, I'm just like, all right, they already confessed their feelings. I'm not interested anymore. But I just found it really hard to believe that Heero would be able to confess his feelings or even like, recognize love, emotions, or romance that early on.
Kat 29:10
It's the combined problem of he's an asshole who no one would want a date and the fic is still trying to convince me that him and Duo are like really great together in general. So I wrote a lot of Gundam Wing fic in middle school, so I consumed so much of it on [laughing] fanfiction.net and the characterization ended up getting really, really far removed even further removed than this fic from the actual show, I guess.
Cathy 29:35
So one thing I did want to point out, it's less obvious in Part One, but becomes increasingly obvious as you move through this arc is the total lack or mention of Relena Peacecraft. And, and I mean it, she is not mentioned once in this entire fic, which is odd because it goes from middle of the canon through until the post-Endless Waltz and then [laughter] seven to eight years, and seven to eight years after--
Mallory 30:05
Wow
Cathy 30:05
the end of Endless Waltz, which, and again at by the end of this fic series, spoilers, Duo, Wufei, and Heero all work for the Preventers. So it seems very [laughter] weird that none of them would interact with Relena. So like I did--
Caitlin 30:14
It seems like they would run into Relena sometime [laughter].
Cathy 30:21
I did want to open the floor to talk about Relena Peacecraft and her place in Gundam Wing fanfic.
Kat 30:29
Well, so either you're a het shipper so you're, you're, you're doing fine, your Heero is probably very different. [laughter]
Caitlin 30:41
Wait, let's let's be clear that there were a lot of het shippers
Kat 30:44
Yes.
Caitlin 30:44
And they still are there. There was a lot of het shipping in the Japanese fandom too. I think Heero and Relena were popular.
Kat 30:51
Duo and Hilde.
Caitlin 30:53
And the official media that came out was like, oh Duo and Hilde. And, oh Heero and Relena.
Cathy 30:58
Yeah.
Kat 30:59
Relena and fanfiction so you're a het -- you could be a het shipper, so then she's in it a lot.
Mallory
Or you hate her and she's a monster and she's the the thing standing between Heero and Duo falling in love or being together, which I feel like I read a lot of.
Kat 31:15
She could be shipping them but that was way more rare I thought and then like just not having her around.
Caitlin 31:22
So like, from the perspective of the contemporary moment, it looks bad to just not write Relena at all in your 300,000 word fic about characters who talk to Relena all the time. Like it seems bad
Kat 31:38
But!
Caitlin 31:39
but she was so controversial that I could see like I can see the logic of just not including her.
Kat 31:45
And as a reader I, I often preferred that she just kind of not be there be like very peripheral over... like I think at the beginning I really enjoyed the like Relena hating because there's just very viscerally satisfying, but later on, I was like, hmmm.
Caitlin 32:01
The other option is like, write a explainer about why your Heero in your fic doesn't love Relena, he only loves Duo. It just becomes, like, tedious to write that every single fic.
Cathy 32:15
One thing that I was digging up was a lot of Relena hate sites. And one thing we had talked about in past episodes was kind of like hating her because she was this rich girl, she had this entourage, we couldn't really relate to her. And there was a lot of that in why people expressed why they hated Relena. Like she was spoiled. She had everything. She was obsessed with Heero and so she definitely like wanted him as one of her belongings kind of thing? So I think it is one of those moments where now that I've read a lot more other types of Gundam Wing fanfic that I wasn't reading at that time that have, I think, much more interesting Relena characterization, and much more I think realistic ideas about what Heero and Relena's relationship would be like. I think, "God I was so stupid!" but I feel that same way about like everything I was into, right? [laughs] So like, it is kind of humbling and also funny.
Mallory 33:14
Like reading this fic it's about as comforting as like finding your favorite High School sweater, you know, in the back of your closet when you're visiting home and putting it on and finding out it still fits. And it's because it sort of hits all of those familiar tropes that I remember reading, like the use of "Gods" is like--
Kat 33:32
Yes!
Mallory 33:33
punch in the face.
Caitlin 33:34
Why does everyone say gods?
Mallory 33:36
Yes.
Cathy
Everybody!
Mallory 33:37
Okay, and I don't remember, like I remember this being a thing in Gundam Wing fic I don't remember why--
Caitlin 33:43
[crosstalk] Duo was American and was raised in a—
Cathay
[laughing] Catholic!
Caitlin
Catholic. Why would he say Gods?
Kat 33:48
[crosstalk] Yeah Duo would never.
Cathy 33:49
I kind of get maybe the idea of why others would do it if this became like a post colony thing but certainly not Duo.
Kat 33:57
In like middle school. I was always wondering like, "oh, what kind of weird event happened in the future that made everybody until like a polytheist?" [laughter] Like, what kind of world building is this?
Mallory 34:07
Yeah, I thought that there had to be like a reason or is there a rule?
Caitlin 34:12
I kind of thought that just like the people writing fanfic at the time tended to be like pagans. Like, like, that was fine. And they and they were pushing their pagan agenda by having everybody say gods.
Cathy 34:22
No, I, I, 100. That's 100% my theory.
Caitlin 34:25
that's what I think it is.
Cathy 34:26
So I mean, Sunhawk was one of the older writers at the time, but I think a lot of the people who were archivists and writers at the time were older, she was probably at least I want to say in her 30s. They're usually older, some of them are Wiccan or pagan and a lot of them were very interested in like education and sort of like bringing up the younger members of the fandom. So Sunhawk specifically, like had a personality who was like very educational? I'm not saying that that's why she did particularly this "Gods" thing, but I do think that that was like part of the general dismantling of monotheistic--
Mallory 35:01
Christian god.
Cathy 35:02
Yeah. So the last thing I want to talk about in terms of this fanfic is all the five pilots working together, coordinating pickup and rescue missions.
Mallory 35:11
Rendezvous points? How are they in contact with each other?
Cathy 35:15
And they all appear to have like similar missions? Like, it seems like Heero and Duo were on this mission together instead of what we see in the show, which is that they don't...? Again, I think I just love this idealistic view of the Gundam pilots where they're all not just friends, but also comrades in arms.
Caitlin 35:33
Yeah, I mean, this makes more sense than what the show does, which is that on the show, it's always, oh, they just happen to run into each other on the same mission. And they're like, oh, who are you? Why do you have the same Gundam as me? [laughter]
Mallory 35:47
We shouldn't be fighting.
Caitlin 35:48
But Quatre's the only one who says that everybody else is like, let's blow each other up.
Cathy 35:53
We joke a lot about how this podcast is basically us questioning the internal logic of Gundam Wing, like why would anybody do this thing where they just sent five teenagers without any knowledge that there are four other of them and just be like, here you go.
Mallory 36:07
Complete a vague unspecified mission.
Kat 36:10
I feel like fanfiction really made them way more competent. Like there's literally that whole scene where the doctors are like, "You guys fucking suck. You're not the perfect soldiers at all." [laughter]
Mallory 36:21
"You don't know anything."
Kat 36:22
And then in fics it's like Heero's like, "I'm the perfect soldier. I know everything!
Mallory 36:28
"I must be the perfect soldier."
Caitlin 36:30
Oh, yeah. Like they all seem to be much better fighters than they are in canon.
Kat 36:36
Yeah
Caitlin 36:36
I feel like in canon Wufei is the only one who does his job. And in fanfic, it seemed like they were all doing jobs.
Kat 36:43
Trowa's maybe just doing his own thing.
Mallory 36:46
But he's doing A Job.
Caitlin 36:47
Yeah, clowning. Trowa's job is clowning!
Kat 36:50
Everybody got way more trauma than Quatre did in fic even though the show is like here's Quatre's biggest trauma.
Mallory 36:58
You know, that's very true.
Kat 36:59
Which didn't even show up in the clip show.
Caitlin 37:02
Yeah, it also doesn't really make sense that Quatre's always this really sane one in fanfic when he's the main one we've seen in canon go apeshit.
Kat 37:12
Reading this fic and then watching the clip show, I was like, damn, like Wufei/Treize/Zechs was like it's, a whole ass universe. And it's just like, one scene in the first 27 episodes. [laughter] But what a scene.
Mallory 37:27
Such a good one.
Caitlin 37:29
I think that it's important to note that Sunhawk passed away last year, and so we could consider this episode our very weird tribute to her.
Cathy 37:37
Yes, in 2019 in March, there was a post on Sunhawk's LiveJournal, by her daughter, who had become in Sunhawk's words, essentially somewhat of a fandom secretary for Sunhawk, noting that if you are reading this entry, now, it means that she had passed away, she had been diagnosed with cancer, like in 2015, she said four and a half years ago from the time of the writing of the entry. So Sunhawk, beginning in 2007, did a tradition where every year for the 12 days leading up to Christmas, she would post the ficlet, or fanart inspired by her fics, usually 1x2 related usually an excerpt from or like a special scene or bonus scene from one of her stories about Duo and Heero. And she continued that tradition even up until 2019.
Kat 38:25
Oh wow
Cathy 38:25
So prior to that she had actually queued up 12 Days of Christmas for 2019, which her daughter posted. And the very last story actually was a coda for the Ion arc, which was left unfinished and her daughter finished it for her. And if you had the chance, and of course, we'll link to this, I really highly recommend you read the goodbye post from Sunhawk.
Caitlin 38:49
It's, wait, it's really good. Can I read just a little bit of this?
Cathy 38:51
Yes, please.
Caitlin 38:52
Before I shuffle on off, though, I would be remiss if I didn't address the fandom that I have called home for almost two decades. To everyone, thank you, I realized that we aren't as large as we used to be that the heyday is over. But I've enjoyed being here and writing for you all. And there is one thing that I've learned through all of my years, and all of my time with the fandom that I want to share that I think applies not just to our little corner of the internet, but all fandom. Write it, draw it, sing it, create it, share it. We all start somewhere. We all start with works that are horribly out of character. We write tropes that have been written up million times before. We all stare at blank canvases unable to get the lines down in a way that we want. And we all scrap ideas that we feel just aren't good enough. But a fandom lives because of the people who produce for it. And by those who come to read and view. Yes, maybe that 500 word drabble in which two strapping young men are trapped in a remote cabin during some horrible weather event and there is only one bed, isn't your best work. But what about the work after that, or the one that follows? With each creation you learn, you polish yourself, you grow. Never stop yourself from growing. Never let others stop you from growing. Share the stories you have in you. Post your heart -- Post your art, because at the end of the day life is too damn short to spend not doing something you love to do. To all of the Gundam Wing fandom and all of my friends, I want to again say thank you, reading my work supporting me talking with me, you've made my stay here a pleasant one.
Cathy 40:21
I find it really heartwarming. And one thing that I did for this episode is I went back and I read some of Sunhawk's first LiveJournal posts in 2002, when she started her LiveJournal, and even in the comments to people who were, I don't think close friends of hers, you know, just fans, she was always extremely, you know, encouraging and welcoming, and always told her fans that they should just write, you know, even if they felt like whatever they did wasn't perfect or wasn't in their words going to match up to what she did. She always told them just write it. Coming to Sunhawk and realizing that she'd spent two decades in a fandom that I think a lot of us considered dead and she was still cranking out work there and like encouraging people and being loving in that fandom, it just is it's like everything that one hopes one span that experience will be like and how they'll be remembered when they leave. Well, I want to thank you guys for joining me on this episode where we talk about, you know, Sunhawk and fanfic and being really young and on the internet with dial up. I really, you know, appreciate all of your memories, which are also my memories. And together, we'll keep Sunhawk's spirit alive. Write it, draw it, sing it, create it and share it. Thank you very much and see you in two weeks.
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SEE (Hannigram fic)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/23033302
Summary:
"Will felt himself lose form until he was transparent; a spectre, that only Dr Lecter could see. He lowered his eyes from the ceiling. The blue curtains in his window parted, letting in amber rays that pressed warm kisses to his soul, some of which had the power to ignite him. Each kiss left a burn that read, in perfect cursive writing, I SEE YOU."
Set between S01 E07 (Sorbet) and S01 E08 (Fromage).
Notes:
This is after Will has taken notice of the stag statue in Hannibal's office. This is after he's bared witness to Hannibal's surgical skill. This is after he's returned Hannibal's friendship. This is before Will kissed Alana. This is before he's had the brain scan. This is after Hannibal has smelled the Encephalitis. And before Will knew Abigail killed Nicholas Boyle.
(See the end of the work for more notes.)
______________________________________________________________
Will Graham, over the years, had stepped into the office of many psychiatrists, and he'd never liked a single one of them.
He could see them flashing before his mind's eye; all of them different yet somehow nauseatingly similar...
The bright, white light shining through the windows; from the ceiling; from the lamps tucked into the corners... All pointing to him, like flash lights in the hand of a diver looking to explore the dark waters of his mind. No where for the sharks to hide.
The chair he sat in, as icy as the air that surrounded him; freezing him to it like the tongue of a rebellious kid who'd decided to lick a street pole in the middle of Winter. Or the couch, hot enough that he turned to liquid and seeped into the cushion, trapped within the fabric beside another coffee stain.
The smells, so sickly-sweet that the scent of decay would appeal, or chemical enough to be the embalming fluid injected into those that had decayed.
The rooms reeked of intention. SHOW YOURSELF, the lights demanded. STAY PUT, ordered the chair and couch. RELAX, commanded the scents; YOU'RE SAFE HERE, they tried persuading.
Even the plants in the corners all grew mouths and desperately screamed, LET ME SEE YOU.
Will Graham had never been a fan of being seen. He'd never been a fan of seeing, either, but there was no working his way around that one, try as he might. A single word was an autobiography. One glimpse was a biographical film. Most days, he would avoid those windows into the soul. Other days, his own trembling one would reach out, searching for a sturdy hand to hold on to... but his reach was never met. Through those windows and into the house, spelled out on the fridge in alphabet magnets, were the words I WON'T UNDERSTAND YOU.
The doctors had gone to school, they knew mental illness, they'd read books on psychology... but they didn't have experience, not with people like him. Nobody did; even he couldn't find any information on what he was. He was alone. He couldn't tell them that he'd lie awake most nights, living in his mind as somebody else; multiple somebodies... Criminal somebodies, ranging anywhere from burglars to serial killers. He couldn't tell them that each night he'd dream of strangling innocents. Slitting throats, breaking necks. They might say he had a form of Dissociative Identity Disorder. They could say he was suffering from Schizophrenia. Borderline Personality Disorder. Most likely, they'd deem him a Psychopath. He'd be put on medication, he'd lose his job and be sent to a psych ward. He'd live surrounded by the insane, for so many years that it would come to the point that he could no longer differentiate. He'd become as psychotic as the psychiatrists who'd diagnosed him believed him to be.
A glance and they'd see what was lurking through those windows, hiding behind the curtains. They'd see, and they wouldn't understand. No one ever had.
Up until he met a certain doctor.
"I imagine what you see and learn touches everything else in your mind. Your values and decency are present yet shocked at your associations, appalled at your dreams. No forts in the bone arena of your skull for things you love."
______________________________________________________________
One of these things is not like the others
One of these things just doesn't belong
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song?
______________________________________________________________
Being in Dr Lecter's office was as comforting to him as being on a boat in still waters. The very air surrounding Will gingerly caressed him rather than shocked or sedated him. The room was in equal parts light and shadow; in lieu of the flash light was a lighthouse that took on the shape of a man. The scents were unique but subtle; refreshing.
There wasn't a plant in this room (at least, not yet), but there were many other things; one of which was a statue; a statue of a stag. It whispered to him, and it told him, I SEE YOU, AND I UNDERSTAND.
Will sat in the comfortable, black leather chair across from Dr Lecter. It was 8:30 in the morning.
Hannibal was still as he observed the dark-haired man before him. Will Graham was looking without seeing out the window while unconsciously rubbing two fingers of his left hand over his chin. His breathing was slightly rapid, shallow. He was exhibiting signs of anxiety... but it wasn't where he was, or who he was with, that created it. Will Graham wasn't present, and the rest of his body was still; the hand gripping the arm of the chair was relaxed. His legs were spread wide apart, open and inviting.
They had exchanged pleasantries, and though Will Graham had started to become comfortable enough to initiate conversation when meeting with Hannibal, to seek his help, to confide in him, this time he was more withdrawn. The circles under his eyes were darker, his lids were heavier, his skin was paler; all of which pointed to a lack of sleep. Hannibal waited patiently.
Will was trapped in an echo; a memory of the dream he'd had the night before. Or at least, what felt like a dream; it could have been his imagination, he wasn't entirely sure. He saw Hobbs in his kitchen, white-eyed and rotting, slitting Abigail's throat. He saw Hobbs on his own front porch beside a barking Winston, white-eyed and rotting, slitting Abigail's throat. Then he saw himself on his porch, bright-eyed and golden-skinned, slitting Abigail's throat. He watched as the blood sprayed from her carotid artery, drenching him in red. He watched as she fell to the ground and bled out, looking up at him with wide, blue, questioning eyes.
Only once Abigail was dead did Will stop reverberating. Slowly, the raging ocean that was his porch became the calm waters that made Dr Lecter's office. Will blinked, eyes scanning his surroundings, before landing on the lighthouse. The light momentarily blinded him. Dr Lecter saw him; Dr Lecter knew. Will quickly shut the windows to his soul.
"Sorry. Uh... didn't sleep well, last night," said Will, breaking the silence; scratching a forehead that did not itch.
Hannibal saw, and he knew Will Graham knew he saw, so leaned back further into his seat, crossed his legs and folded his hands on top of his lap; expressing his lack of discomfort. Relax, he told Will with his body. I see you, and I understand you. You are safe here with me.
Hannibal had a long list of questions in mind; each one to be asked only when the time was right...
"Do you still see him behind closed eyes?" was one of those questions.
Will Graham momentarily froze before lowering his hand to his knee. His brow twitched in mock confusion. Hannibal saw himself in the gesture; Will was so used to hiding that it'd become second nature to feign ignorance.
"Garret Jacob Hobbs," Hannibal clarified; feigning ignorance about Will Graham's feigning of ignorance.
Will's automatic reaction was to snort. It came off as if directed at Dr Lecter, asking him, what do you think? But in fact, it was directed at himself, asking why do I even bother? Dr Lecter had a way of seeing right through him... whether or not Will wanted him to was yet to be decided.
The YES wasn't spoken, but Hannibal didn't need a verbal admission.
"Why do you think that is?" he asked.
Will chewed on his bottom lip before responding, "Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"
"I could tell you what I think," Hannibal started. "But doing so has the potential to reshape your perspective. Speaking aloud what we are thinking can aid us in coming to our own conclusions... and those conclusions may be more accurate."
Hannibal let Will Graham consider that before he continued.
"What are you thinking, Will?"
Will took a deep breath.
"I..." he began, and he felt his face twitch. Stress, he told himself, as he rubbed it with a hand, as if the touch would help to ground, or shield him; either from Dr Lecter or himself. Perhaps both. Perhaps neither.
"I think... doing what I do... Profiling killers. Being the way I am..."
He lowered his hand and gripped the arm of the chair. He watched as the fingers of his left hand twitched. He made them stop by clenching his fist.
"... makes separating..."
He released his grip and looked up at the ceiling; sighing.
"... difficult."
"You profile many killers," said Hannibal. "What makes Garret Jacob Hobbs different?"
Will felt himself lose form until he was transparent; a spectre, that only Dr Lecter could see. He lowered his eyes from the ceiling. The blue curtains in his window parted, letting in amber rays that pressed warm kisses to his soul, some of which had the power to ignite him. Each kiss left a burn that read, in perfect cursive writing, I SEE YOU.
Will saw his own eyes through Dr Lecter's; they responded. I WANT TO BE SEEN.
"... I killed Hobbs," whispered Will, unable to look away. To be seen was... relieving, as much as it was unnerving. He was almost disappointed when Dr Lecter broke the spell by letting his eyes lower to Will's hand. It was then that Will realized he was rubbing the fingernail of his pointer finger over the pad of his thumb, over and over; it was the same finger he used to pull the trigger on Hobbs. The same motion. He tensed his jaw and stopped himself.
"Is that why you have difficulty separating? Because you took his life?" asked Hannibal, looking back into Will Graham's eyes once the motion ceased.
Will met them, close to eager.
"Yes..." he said, softly.
Dr Lecter's head tilted to the side very slightly but he did not so much as blink otherwise.
"But you don't regret it," he replied.
Will Graham laughed; he wished he regretted it.
"No. No... It's not regret that keeps him swimming around in the dark waters of my mind," said Will, pronouncing each word slowly and carefully. Calmly; thoughtfully.
Hannibal's lips were still, but his heart smiled, overcome with glee; this was the Will Graham that hid behind the mask. This was the Will Graham that Hannibal was working hard to rescue; to pull out from the depths of conformity. Here he was, the magnificent beast lurking within, and he was unmistakably beautiful.
Will was the one to break eye-contact, this time. Seeing himself through Dr Lecter's eyes while he confessed to such things was distressing. He didn't see the man he wanted to be; he didn't see the man that he saw through Alana's eyes. He saw a beast; a monster with black antlers, dead eyes and blood dripping down its chin. He looked back up at the ceiling and let out another sigh.
Hannibal sighed along with him, but only inwardly; the monster was back in hiding. Hannibal was disappointed but continued on; he knew it was only temporary.
"Then what is it?" Hannibal asked. Will Graham's blue eyes flitted around the room.
"Fear," he responded.
"What do you fear?"
There was a hesitation; Will looked at the loft above Dr Lecter's head, met his eyes briefly, before looking down at the shoes the doctor wore. They were pristine and perfectly symmetrical; Dr Lecter was an idealist. They were black on the outside, with the slightest bit of salmon peeking out from the underside of the lace guards; Dr Lecter was composed but not immune to excitement. They must have been ridiculously expensive; Dr Lecter had a taste for the finer things in life. He appreciated elegance. He WAS elegant. Graceful. Shoes said a lot about a person. Although, so did anything else.
"Likeness," Will answered at last, unmoving.
"You took his life, just as he had taken many lives, himself," said Dr Lecter; hitting the nail on the head, as usual. Will raised his eyes up from Dr Lecter's costly shoes to his thin leg; 'I'm very careful about what I put into my body.' From his thin leg to his luxurious tie. He let them run across Dr Lecter's full, pink lips. Let them trace his cheekbone, rise up into his hair, sink down over his forehead and rest on those warming, firy mirrors. They showed nothing but understanding. They were encouraging.
"I feel... like he's a part of me."
Will Graham's eyes said many things, but screamed just one; HELP ME. Hannibal would not allow him to go unassisted.
"He is what you consider your own darkness. A darkness you cannot escape," said Hannibal, and he let his brows crease slightly; intended to convey feelings of sympathy.
Will Graham's jaw shifted from side to side. He nodded once, a jerky movement, then he shut his eyes, long and thick lashes fluttering against soft cheeks, as he reached up and rubbed his neck and shoulder. Hannibal watched a moment longer before he spoke; falling through branches of scenarios until he landed on one sturdy enough.
"You carry the weight of your troubles on your shoulders. Your trapezius muscles hold the same tension that is present in your mind," said Hannibal, pausing before he continued. "Releasing that tension can be beneficial."
Hannibal waited for Will Graham's eyes to meet his; the connection would enhance feelings of trust when he said, "I can help you, Will."
Will's quivering soul reached out and was, this time, grasped.
"How?" asked Will.
Dr Lecter leaned forward, palms pressed flat against the arms of the chair and elbows bent, as if he were preparing to get up. He looked at Will with a smile that reached his eyes.
"Shiatsu massage," he said.
Will's brow twitched, his head jerked, and one corner of his mouth turned upward. He laughed a laugh much different than the first; it was almost a question.
When Dr Lecter stood up from the chair in one swift motion, hands running down his suit to flatten the wrinkles, Will lost his smile and his eyes widened. Question answered... but he asked, just for good measure...
"You're not serious, are you?"
He turned in his seat to follow Dr Lecter as the man walked behind him.
"Of course I am," Dr Lecter replied, resting his hands on the back of Will's chair. He smiled, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. Will blinked rapidly; he couldn't hold Dr Lecter's gaze and instead lowered his head to look at the salmon-colored pocket square. It matched the color hidden inside his shoes... was there anything Dr Lecter did that wasn't intentional? Did he do anything spontaneously? Will's lips twitched; alternating between a smile and a frown.
"Ah... not the therapy I was expecting...?" he said, turning back around, if only to keep Dr Lecter from witnessing his discomfort; he imagined his efforts were futile.
"Wellness of the body and wellness of the mind are of equal importance for a happy life," said Dr Lecter.
"Well, in that case, I'm screwed," Will scoffed, eyes widening before he ran his hands over them. The motion said 'I can't believe this is happening'.
"I think fate has other plans for you, Will," said Dr Lecter before hesitating. As Will anticipated contact, a butterfly fluttered wildly within the cage of his ribs. With each beat of wing, a question arose; the same one, over and over. WHY? WHY? WHY?
"This is more effective if done in a lying down position, but it is not entirely necessary," Dr Lecter said, subtly leaning over Will, as if he thought if he were any further away, Will would not have been able to hear him. The butterfly went through reverse-metamorphosis and became a caterpillar; a caterpillar which crawled up Will's oesophagus and made its way to his throat. He swallowed it back down.
"I'll sit," he said, voice hoarse.
As soon as Dr Lecter's hands grasped his trapezoids, Will stiffened, shut his eyes, and nearly choked on his own tongue. Though he knew the hands of a man were on him, he felt something else entirely. The Ravenstag came around the corner, big and black, and nuzzled his hand. It was trying to SHOW him something. Why? What was there to see? What about Dr Lecter had provoked the Ravenstag? What was it trying to tell him?
When Dr Lecter spoke, Will lifted his heavy lids and stared ahead; there the stag statue, behind Dr Lecter's chair, on the pedestal against the wall. That explained it; the statue must have been the last thing he'd seen before shutting his eyes. It had no meaning. Will rubbed his lips together. Fear had become a familiar friend; it came to him and asked him, ARE YOU LOSING YOUR MIND?
"Shiatsu massage is based on the same principles as acupuncture," Dr Lecter informed. "Instead of thin needle, the hands are used. Or more specifically, the fingers. 'Shiatsu' is Japanese for 'finger pressure'."
Will shut his eyes, and this time, he saw Dr Lecter wearing a black kimono; felt Dr Lecter's dichotomous hands on him. They were as firm as they were gentle. Dr Lecter took on the shape of a blue crab as he pinched, adding to Will's agony, and transformed into a raven when he released; flying away and taking all of Will's suffering with him.
"You apply pressure to remove pressure," said Will.
"Yes."
Hannibal went back in time until he saw himself preparing a pair of fresh, healthy, and beautifully pink lungs for consumption. Cassie Boyle. He'd placed her in the middle of a field in Minnesota, fully exposed; nothing to hide. The crime matched the punishment; she was stripped of all decency. Skewered, not unlike a shish kebab, by the antlers on the head of a stag. Three and a half hours from Garet Jacob Hobbs' address, found only because the stag head had been stolen about a mile from the scene. It could have easily been mistaken for a crime committed by Garet Jacob Hobbs; easily mistaken by anyone but Will Graham.
The stag was considered a messenger to the native tribes of North America, and it had delivered the exact messages that Hannibal had intended to. It said SEE ME and SEE HIM simultaneously; this 'copycat killer' - Hannibal - looked at his victims as if they were pigs; Hobbs did not.
Hobbs loved his victims. Hobbs loved women. Young women; daughters. Hobbs consumed them to keep them with him; he couldn't bare separation. He couldn't bare separation from a daughter.
Will saw; he received the message. 'Practically gift-wrapped', he had said, and that's exactly what it was; Hannibal's gift to Will Graham.
Cassie Boyle initially helped to tell Will Graham where Garet Jacob Hobbs resided, and the phone call that warned Hobbs set in motion the first stage of Will Graham's becoming.
Hannibal took a deep breath and exhaled; he disguised it as a sigh, as if massaging Will was taking a lot of effort, but what he was doing was detecting - Encephalitis, to be precise. The sweetness and the heat of it was still present; the scent of it had started to become more potent. Soon, Hannibal would move onto stage two; he would use the Encephalitis to aid Will in his evolution.
It was common for victims of Encephalitis to experience seizures do to abnormal synchronized activity in the brain cells; they were also apt to be photophobic. Hannibal planned to use this to his advantage. He would use flashing light therapy to overwhelm Will's already-overwhelmed brain, inducing seizures, and subject him to psychic driving.
'You're a killer, Will,' he would say. 'You killed Cassie Boyle.'
He needed Will to believe. It wasn't enough for Will to see. He had to become; only then would true understanding manifest.
Once he accepted what he truly was, Will would emerge from the chrysalis as the God he was meant to be; taking the lives he deemed fit to take. It wouldn't be long before he added the finishing touches to the painting of the Chesapeake Ripper, and once he saw it in full, glorious detail, tears of joy would stream down his blood-stained cheeks. He'd see Hannibal, and in Hannibal, he'd see himself.
The broken tea cup that made Will, the broken tea cup that made Hannibal, would join together. Pieces would be left behind, but that mattered not; this new, amalgamated teacup would be superior.
Will and Hannibal, together, would become a whole teacup once again... and Abigail would be the psilocybin mushroom tea that filled it.
And this... this was Hannibal's gift to Will Graham.
"Mild discomfort may be present as pressure is applied... but if you are resilient enough to withstand it, you will emerge a new man."
"Hm," uttered Will, brows raising even with his eyes shut. Behind closed eyes, the Ravenstag returned, so vivid that he could see his and Dr Lecter's reflection in its big, brown eye. Will could feel its breath on his cheek. SEE? it asked, then demanded; SEE. SEE WITHOUT EYES.
Will kept his shut as he said, "Not unlike psychiatry."
Hannibal's smile flatlined while his heart began to chortle. He did not discontinue his massage because he knew, for someone like Will Graham, it would be as good as a confession.
Did Will know?
"Do you feel pressured, Will?" Hannibal tested.
"I feel an astounding amount of pressure, Dr Lecter," Will Graham responded.
Hannibal, unsure as to whether or not Will was being deliberately vague, responded without giving anything away; "How does that make you feel?"
"Like a volcano on the verge of eruption," said Will, and he saw himself, bathed in blood under the light of the full moon.
Synchronously, Hannibal saw Will, bathed in the light of the full moon, blood as black as the night sky coating him from head to foot. He thought, perhaps Will didn't need psychic driving. Perhaps he just needed a nudge in the right direction...
"Volcanoes can be destructive; their eruptions devastating anything within close distance - except for other volcanoes."
"Mhm."
"Eruptions also help to create minerals such as gold, silver and diamonds, create rich agricultural soil, and were responsible for most of Earth's water."
"What are you saying? That I should erupt?"
"I'm saying you shouldn't fear eruption; it might not be as destructive as you think. And... it would release a lot of tension."
Hannibal rested his hands still against Will's trapezius muscles, indicating that he was finished.
"Do you feel like a new man?" he asked, smiling.
"I'm getting there. Thank you," Will replied, keeping his eyes shut even once Dr Lecter removed his hands entirely.
"The pleasure was all mine," said Hannibal Lecter.
______________________________________________________________
Notes:
I have so many things hidden in this story, and I was actually going to point them all out, but I decided against it. I thought it might be more fun to let you find them, yourself.
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plant boy | jhs
summary: after seven years of doing it, you’d like to think you’re an expert at skipping class. stay hidden, stay quiet, and act inconspicuous. but when you accidentally draw the attention of jung hoseok while you’re camping out on the benches outside the greenhouses, you begin to realize that all it takes is a boy with sunshine at his fingertips and a particular affinity for herbology to change things.
{hogwarts!au, opposites to lovers!au}
pairing: hoseok x female reader
word count: 11k
genre: fluff, light angst
warnings: playing hooky - stay in school kidz!
a/n: happy lunar new year, everyone!!!! here’s my gift to you as a blessing for the new year. hope y’all lucky as hell. aside from that, a couple notes:
1. i know it’s literally been 84 years since i last posted a part for my sorted series. my bad! anyway, here is the much awaited plant boy, and the rest of the parts should be following shortly.
2. this takes place before the events of tutor! that’s why namjoon’s still kind of a dick in this one. sorry for any confusion!!
3. dedicated to this fic’s numero uno fan, 陈 anon!
Time seems to pass by extra slowly on days like this.
Days where you’ve earned yourself another detention, adding it to the list of the ones you go to (and the list of the ones you’ve skipped), trapped in a classroom that you can’t Alohomora your way out of, one designed specifically for troublemakers like you. Back in your first and second years, they used to give you detentions that sent you into the Forbidden Forest to do some other teacher’s bidding, or they’d make you clean out and reorganize the Potions closet, or tidy up the disastrous greenhouses at the edge of campus, or sort the library books or wipe down the tables in the Great Hall.
They learned after the first two years that even menial tasks such as those can’t be trusted to be placed in your hands.
Now, in a punishment seemingly designed for irritable, easily-bored, fidgety, vengeful students just like you, you sit in a classroom supervised by a snotty teacher—or even worse, the Head Boy or Girl—and watch as the seconds tick by.
It’s normal; you’re used to it at this point, but that doesn’t make it any less soul-sucking. All you can do is wait with your chin resting in your palm, the wooden pencil you use (because quills are archaic and weird) tapping against the desk. It’s not much, but at least the noise distracts you from the ticking time-bomb in your brain, on the verge of explosion. Not to mention, it does tend to drive the person who has to keep watch over you just a little bit mad.
Deduction of House Points doesn’t seem to have any effect on you whatsoever. You pity the poor folks who share the same house with you, the same blue and bronze decorating their robes and ties, having to suffer through watching their House Points decrease and decrease until the professors felt so terrible they stopped punishing your House and started punishing you instead. It worked out for everyone, really. The teachers stopped having a guilty conscience and the rest of your House-mates stopped giving you the stink-eye whenever you passed by them in the hallways.
You’re in today because Potions class is a joke and that’s that. You can’t really be too sure what you actually did in Potions today, anyway, because anything you’re taught really does just go in through one ear and out the other. You spent the entire class, rather than focusing on the actual lesson, brewing a Confusing Concoction so potent it permeated the air, causing everyone else to fall into a bewildered stupor and turning the lesson into chaos. All it really takes is double the amount of sneezewort. Simple, when you think about it.
Regardless, the lesson ran amuck and who else was to blame except you, of course. Imagine everyone’s horror if it had turned out that it wasn’t you who claimed the blame for the overwhelming scent of pure, unadulterated befuddlement. The day someone else is as disruptive as you is the day the entire Hogwarts campus bursts into flames.
Tap, tap, tap.
Your feet have started to join in, creating a rhythm that surrounds you as you match up the beats to the ticking of the clock above the doorway. It’s natural for your hands to turn to this, resorting to music as your immediate form of entertainment—you played piano all throughout your childhood and even now, music seems to be one of the only things that hasn’t abandoned you entirely, alongside your disregard for structured education and your charm.
Tap, tap, tap.
How much longer? It seems like you’ve been here ever since classes ended at three. It feels like you’ve been sitting in the same desk in the same empty room for the past three days. Your stomach grumbles. You think you’ve forgotten what food tastes like. You might die in this room, to be honest.
Tap, tap, tap.
It’s a real shame they don’t trust you to do the other standard detention tasks. Not that their judgement is misled in any way, because it’s not, but even rearranging the Potions closet would be more intellectually fulfilling than this. There’s more to life than rewards and punishments. You’re just waiting to see when they’ll actually realize it.
Tap, tap, tap.
“Y/L/N.”
Interrupted from the sick beats you were laying down, you look up to see Kim Namjoon, your designated chaperone for the afternoon, appearing severely disgruntled. The thick-rimmed glasses he’s wearing have slid all the way down his nose bridge, and he’s clutching onto the quill in his hand so tightly you think it’ll snap in half.
“Yes, Namjoon?” You ask sweetly, resting your chin in your interlaced hands as your elbows press down into the desk. You know he hates when you call him by his first name. It’s just another reminder that he is in no way superior to you. Just because he gets good grades and all the professors fall to their knees at the sight of him. His so-called academic excellence doesn’t excuse him from being an asshole.
“This might be a particularly difficult concept to get through that empty head of yours, but have you ever thought of being quiet for once in your life?” He asks, peering over the top rim of his glasses. It’s clear he wants to be here as much as you do. But you’ve been graciously handed the opportunity to torment who is probably your biggest enemy on campus, and you won’t pass it up.
“But we’re having so much fun, Namjoon,” you continue, condescending tone thick on your tongue. “You wouldn’t want to just sit here in silence, would you? I can hear you thinking from all the way over here, and trust me, it’s not pretty.”
“Are you treating this as some kind of joke, Y/L/N?” Namjoon asks with a frown, looking more and more like an angry, eighty-year-old professor who eats his students’ hearts for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
Truth be told, the last time you took detention seriously was in your first year here. Back when you were a little baby of a student, intimidated by all of the teachers and older students and desperate to make a good impression. Now, you like to think of detention as an opportunity to clear your mind, maybe meditate for a bit, and of course, be a nuisance. It’s one of your most favorite hobbies.
“It’s only a joke because you’re here,” you singsong, making the kid at the desk roll his eyes behind the thick lenses that he’s wearing. “You take everything so seriously, you should learn to lighten up once in a while. It’ll do wonders for your grades.”
Namjoon stiffens. “I don’t think you’re in any position to be telling me how to manage my grades,” he quips. You force out something between a chuckle and a cough, disappointed but not surprised that Namjoon would whip out his superiority complex about his academics as a means of shooting you down.
“You humor me, Namjoon,” you hum to yourself.
Namjoon continues scowling. You think that if he frowns any more the expression will be permanently etched onto his face. “Have you ever considered that maybe the reason you end up in detention all the time is because nobody likes you?”
Never has Namjoon been so rude to you. Granted, you’re well aware of the fact that you’re certainly not the most popular kid on campus, by a long shot, too. You know that people like Namjoon, with good grades and fake attitudes and quirky little characteristics are the ones that will go on to succeed within these walls. But Namjoon seems to be particularly hostile to you today. Maybe he drank something strange this morning.
“Damn, and here I was thinking we were best friends,” you deadpan, unfazed. “You know, unlike you and everyone else here at this school, I don’t really care what people think of me.”
“You think you’re so special because you’re rebellious and alternative and you don’t give a shit about what others think of you,” Namjoon taunts. “But you’re not. You’re just another reject Hogwarts kid that doesn’t have a future outside of these walls. Maybe if you learn to conduct yourself properly, then you will.”
The belltower in the courtyard chimes, signaling the end of your detention. Wordlessly, Namjoon gathers his belongings and struts out of the room, turning the corner sharply to go and gossip with his other bratty, pretentious friends that dislike you as much as you dislike them. The things Namjoon said to you pale in comparison to other things you’ve been told by disgruntled professors, angry students, and everyone in between. But it’s a modern day tragedy that Namjoon gets to treat you like a buffoon and still gets hailed as the king of the school, meanwhile you telling it like it is earns you weekly detentions.
With a groan that reverberates off the walls of the classroom you’re in, you pull yourself to your feet and head back to your dorm, where you plan on wallowing in self-pity, ignoring anyone who does try to talk to you, and of course, not doing your homework.
Some things never change.
The next day finds you strolling right past the stairwell that leads down to the dungeons at half-past twelve, thinking that maybe your professor won’t be too happy to see you after the previous debacle. You wouldn’t be surprised if the scent of the Confusing Concoction still lingered, not strong enough to make your head spin but just enough to leave you a bit in the dark. You imagine not many people were productive in the Potions classroom that day.
It’s not that you skip class on purpose, per se. It’s more a result of the snowball effect, one thing leading to another and another until human confrontation seems like it’ll worsen the problem, rather than alleviate it. Even if the professor doesn’t berate you in front of the entire class, being there immediately after one of your… incidents stirs people up, makes them whisper about you. You don’t care what they have to say, but you’d rather not hear them try to mask what they’re saying while right in front of you. You have ears, too.
So, electing to go to the place that is practically the entire opposite of the dingy, dark dungeons, you head up the stairs at the end of the hallway, towards the greenhouses. You’re not too sure if Sprout has a class right now, but even if she did, you’d just go hide on one of the benches and wait until your next class. If you felt like going to it, of course.
Whenever you do skip class, you don’t allow yourself the luxury of holing up in your dormitory and sleeping the hours away. If you aren’t going to be in class, you’re going to at least be productive elsewhere, whether it be hidden away in the library bookshelves or taking one of the hidden passageways to Hogsmeade or now, camping out by the greenhouses and letting the fresh air clear your mind.
You find a bench to settle in on, stretching out your legs as you lean against the glass, hidden from the inside by a wall of plants. Shuffling through your belongings, you pull out a muggle book that had been left in the Great Hall for a week without anyone laying claim to it. It’s a little too fantastical for your liking, a story about a futuristic world where children have to fight each other to the death as payment for their ancestors rebelling against their capital city, but it’s an alright read. It’s certainly much more enjoyable than anything you’re assigned to read for class.
You’re not worried about getting caught—in fact, it’s probably the lowest on your list of concerns—but at this time of day, when all classes are in session and students are only roaming the hallways if they’re in need of a bathroom break, footsteps do catch you off guard. Not that another detention will do you any harm or good.
Rather, when you look up from your page you see, through the fogged up glass of the greenhouse, a Hufflepuff boy from your year looking back at you, a watering can held in his hands. Red-handed, you feel yourself forcing a smile his way, hoping he doesn’t think much of another student being here, let alone you. Maybe he doesn’t know who you are at all, though you doubt that entirely. Frozen, you watch as he places down the watering can and heads towards the back door of the greenhouse, right by the bench you’re sitting on.
Without the foggy glass to blur his features, you recognize him instantly. It’s Jung Hoseok. In your fifth year, you often had double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs in your year, and he stood out far more than anyone else. You didn’t pay much attention to him, but you’ve seen enough to know that he has quite a knack for the subject, not to mention Sprout wrapped around his finger. He would open his mouth and already she would be handing ten points to Hufflepuff.
Needless to say, him walking towards you makes you a little nervous, as you suspect the first thing he’ll say when he sees you, clearly skipping class, is Sprout’s name. You’ll be handed another detention in no time.
You turn back to your book and pretend that he’s not there, acting like you’re engrossed in the novel as you hear the footsteps along the cobblestone path getting louder and louder. Within no time, you feel his presence next to yours, looming over you like a cloud that spells out doom. Turning the page, you brace yourself for what’s to come.
Then, “What book is that?”
You look up at Jung Hoseok, who is peering down at you not with disdain or contempt, but with pure, unadulterated curiosity. Straining his eyes to see if he can make out a title on the front cover.
“Uh, just some muggle book,” you say casually, hoping you can get through this conversation without being punished.
“Really?” He asks, eyes lighting up with interest. “My friend Tae is muggle-born, maybe he knows it? He’s a fifth year.”
“Cool,” you say, nodding. The faster this conversation is over, the better. Before he recognizes just exactly who you are and runs away screaming to tell a teacher on you.
“Do you come here often?” He asks, motioning to the greenhouse behind you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was an undercover interrogation. With seven years of constant trouble under your belt, any sort of questioning seems to turn into a court hearing whenever you’re involved.
“Less often than I should,” you respond cryptically. It’s true—the greenhouse is definitely one of the more peaceful places you frequent when you should be attending class, always so calm and serene. Nature seems to have that effect.
“It feels that way, doesn’t it?” Hoseok muses to himself. “No matter how much time I spend here, it’ll never be enough.”
This piques your interest. “How often are you in the greenhouses?” You ask somewhat accusingly, like you’re in total disbelief at the idea that the greenhouse goody-two-shoes would even suggest such a thing as skipping class. Someone like Jung Hoseok? Impossible.
Hoseok smiles sheepishly. “I know every inch of every greenhouse, from the roots of the plants buried deep in the soil to the cracks in the panes of glass on the roof. I have etched the feeling of the dirt beneath my palms into memory, memorized the makeup of every plant that this school grows. But I have no idea what’s going on Arithmancy right now.”
His self-awareness makes you laugh, chuckling as you smile to yourself. “Hey, that makes two of us.”
“You’re Y/N, right? I’m Jung Hoseok. Mind if I sit?” He asks, pointing to the empty space on the bench next to you. There’s more than enough room for it to not be awkward or invasive.
You motion for him to go right ahead. Nothing in the conversation has raised any red flags, and as far as you’re concerned Hoseok’s a nice person to chat with, someone to keep you busy as the two of you avoid your legitimate responsibilities.
“Surprised you’d want to be seen out in the wild with me,” you joke, trying to make light of the situation. “I’d hate for your reputation to be ruined.”
“Yeah, my reputation as Nerdy Plant Boy would be soiled,” Hoseok says. He pauses for a moment and then bursts into laughter. “Get it? Soiled? Because I like plants?”
Maybe his pun was the worst thing your ears have suffered through in a while, but his happiness is electric and his joy is contagious. You find yourself grinning at the mere sound of him enjoying himself, laughing his head off at the pun he just made.
“I mean, you are technically skipping class right now. Just saying,” you remind him.
“Yeah, under the guise of Sprout asking me to help maintain Greenhouse 3. It’s totally overgrown with ivy; she can hardly use it for any lessons. Transfiguration was never really my forte anyway,” Hoseok comments. “But you skip class often, don’t you?”
“Is that a problem?” You challenge.
“Only if you make it one,” Hoseok responds casually. “I mean, you do you. Didn’t you make some superhuman Confusing Concoction the other day?” You nod guiltily. “Oh my God, I walked into Potions that afternoon and felt my head spinning! I had to run down to the greenhouses to get some air. I never made it back to Potions.”
“So neither of us actually knows what happened in class that day?” You ask with a smile.
“Nope,” Hoseok says, shrugging. He doesn’t really seem to mind the fact that he doesn’t attend his classes either. In fact, kind of just rolls with it. “I’ll probably have to ask Namjoon about it.”
The mention of who is probably your biggest enemy makes you inwardly groan. “Oh, don’t tell me the two of you are friends.”
Hoseok chuckles. “He’s certainly not keen on you, that’s for sure,” Hoseok says, crossing his arms. “We’re not close, but I guess you could say we’re sort of friends. I just see him around a lot, and sometimes he asks me for Herbology help. ‘S all.”
“The great Kim Namjoon? Head Boy? Best grades in the class? Asking for help? Unheard of,” you say dramatically, making Hoseok chuckle.
“I doubt he has the best grades in the year,” Hoseok says. “There’s that girl that McGonagall loves that does better than him, I think. He told me he has a massive crush on her.”
“That’s… grossly adorable,” you admit. “But you’ve always been good at Herbology, haven’t you? You were in my class fifth year. You know, when I went to class. Sprout loved you.”
“I don’t know, I don’t really think I’m that good at Herbology. Sprout’s way more educated than I am, and sure, that comes with experience, but really, I just love plants. I love nature, more broadly. I’m a certified tree-hugger,” Hoseok tells you proudly.
“Hey, listen, there are worse things to be,” you reason out with him. “For example, you could be the girl that made a superhuman Confusing Concoction and earned herself a detention for it.”
“Oh, her? I think she’s pretty cool, though,” Hoseok says, pearly white teeth on display as he smiles at you.
“Do you really?” You ask, only a little skeptical.
Hoseok leans back against the glass of the greenhouse a little too heavily, making the wooden bench wobble as you both sit on it. You jump slightly before the two of you regain your balance. Like a Disney prince, he reaches up next to him and plucks a flower growing on the vines along the outside of the greenhouse walls, twirling it between his fingertips before handing it to you. “Yeah, I do.”
Meeting Hoseok outside Greenhouse 3 becomes a regular thing for the two of you. More often than not it ends up being because either one or both of you are skipping class, but what the rest of the world doesn’t know won’t hurt them. It’s strange, in a way. You’re an incredibly independent person as it is, but you never realized how much of a sanctuary you can find in another human being, even if it is just for a little bit.
In a trade for the muggle book you had been reading when he first stumbled upon you outside of the greenhouse, he brings you a little succulent for you to take care of.
“It’s just a normal succulent,” Hoseok says with a laugh as you nervously take the pot from his hands. “Nothing magical about it. Just a cactus’ weird cousin.”
“Don’t you know how irresponsible I am? What makes you think I can take care of a plant?” You ask skeptically.
“Succulents are so easy even irresponsible people like you can handle it,” Hoseok says with a wink, making you fake gag. His false sleaziness makes you a little sick. It’s just difficult to reconcile Greasy Hoseok with Nature Hoseok, who legitimately raps to the plants he’s taking care of. One time, you got to the greenhouse a bit early and found him transferring a plant to a larger pot and spitting some sick fire while he was at it. It was, admittedly, incredibly endearing.
“I don’t know if I should be offended or honored by that statement,” you say as you stare down at the succulent in your hands. It’s small—your palm can easily cup the entire pot, and it looks sort of like a very green lotus flower. Unsure of what to say next, you look back at Hoseok, helplessly.
“Well, aren’t you gonna name it?” He asks like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Why in Merlin would I name it?” You retort.
Hoseok pouts, lips turning into into a little mountain peak as he frowns. “Because naming plants makes them real. Without it, they’d just be plants. Name it!”
“Do you name your plants?” You challenge, though you’d be entirely unsurprised if he said yes. He seems the type. Not that that means anything.
“Only the ones that are important to me,” he tells you. You make a mental note to explore the greenhouse with him one of these days so you can learn which plants matter to him. Which ones he cares for the most. “Are you going to name your succulent?”
“What would I name it, though?” You ask. You’ve never been super… creative when it comes to things like this. Sure, you’re good at coming up with the occasional prank or two, but nothing of any sort of artistic substance. “I’m not too good at naming things.”
Hoseok thinks for a moment, humming to himself as he searches for the right name. He taps his foot on the cobblestone, one beat per second, when his eyes widen. “Oh! I know. How about One?”
“One? As in the number one?” You ask, a little disappointed. You thought he’d whip out some fancy name in a foreign language that you’d probably have a bit of a difficult time pronouncing at first.
“Yeah, One. So that you can keep track of all of them,” Hoseok says with a grin, beaming into himself, radiating like the sun that beats down on the bath.
“What do you mean ‘all of them’?” You interrogate. “Are there more?”
Hoseok smiles, reaching out to hold the pot in his hand, letting the edges of his palm rest in yours. “There just might be.”
What ends up happening is, by the end of the month, there are at least five more pots of succulents sitting on the windowsill by your bed in the Ravenclaw dorm rooms, each of them named accordingly. They look a little bit like an army, a succulent soldiery, if you will. The rest of your dormmates have said nothing about the brand new additions to your corner of the room, luckily enough, seeing as you haven’t the faintest clue how they’d respond to you suddenly acquiring six tiny cacti. Hoseok had told you that they need cold water once a week, and you haven’t done something so faithfully since the time in your sixth year where you attempted to get a detention over the winter holidays.
The thing is that you’d just hate to let them die. Hoseok gave them to you because he believes you’re qualified enough to take care of them, and while you most certainly don’t think you are, you’ll be damned if you don’t follow through.
It’s nice. Having someone like Hoseok around is nice. He is, by nature, one of the brightest people you’ve ever met, both intellectually and emotionally, just the right amount of humor, confidence, and self-deprecation. It’s like he’s the person you’ve been waiting for at Hogwarts, someone who isn’t obsessed over grades and looks and popularity. Someone who just is. Existing, being, is humanity’s simplest task and yet so many people seem to overlook it.
You’re camped out in the Great Hall, sitting alone at the edge of the Ravenclaw table as other students wander in and out, completing bits and pieces of their homework and taking handfuls of the provided snacks, trying to accomplish everything before the weekend’s up. You’re doodling in the margins of the used textbook you have for Charms, working tirelessly on a stick figure flipbook comic. Whoever gets this textbook after you is in for a treat.
The eraser at the tip of your wooden pencil furiously scrubs at a flubbed-up bowtie (how can one side of it be larger than the other—it’s basically just two triangles and a circle) when someone, a very familiar someone, interrupts your thought process.
“What are you doing?” Hoseok asks, eyes wide as he stares down at the writing utensil in your hand.
“Um, drawing?” You respond, albeit a little unsure.
“But—but what is that you’re drawing with? I saw you just a second ago, you drew something and then you removed it!” Hoseok says, sitting down across from you. You suck in a breath and pray that no one’s noticed the Herbology king himself, actively engaging with a delinquent such as yourself.
“This?” You ask, holding out the offending object. “It’s a pencil. Muggles use it all the time—I had a friend smuggle me a few last year. They’re much more convenient than quills, no ink, no mess.”
“Fascinating,” Hoseok says, sketching a couple of lines in your textbook. “It’s much lighter than ink.”
“It’s graphite, I think. Less pressure,” you say.
“And what’s this?” Hoseok asks, looking down at the rounded eraser at the end of it. He puts it up to his nose and sniffs in hard, coughing at what is probably a strong whiff of rubber in his nostrils. “Oof, it smells awful.”
“It’s an eraser,” you say, carefully taking the pencil back and showing Hoseok how to get rid of the lines he just drew. “It… erases things.” You don’t really think you have a better way of explaining it.
“Amazing,” Hoseok says, still awed by the pencil in your hand. “But I didn’t come here for you to show me this muggle creation. I have a treat for you.”
“Don’t tell me it’s another succulent, Hoseok. I can barely keep up with the ones I already have,” you say, pleading a bit. You’d hate to sound ungrateful but Hoseok really has been piling it on with the plants and you’re starting to get the slightest bit overwhelmed.
Hoseok chuckles. “It’s not, I promise. Are you busy?”
“Eh…” you respond helplessly, staring down at your half-finished flipbook comic.
“Please,” Hoseok says with a snigger. “No offense Y/N, but you and I both know you weren’t going to do any of your homework.”
“Touché,” you concede, shutting your textbook roughly and standing up. Hoseok grins, leading the way out of the Great Hall (you attempt to ignore the stares and strange looks the other students are sending your way, especially as you pass Namjoon and that girl that he’s got a crush on, arguing about something) and directly to the greenhouses.
Hoseok’s got a bit of an extra skip in his step today. Maybe he has something extra special to show you. Is he upgrading you from succulents to actual cacti?
“If you wanted me to come to the greenhouse, we could have just met up at our usual time,” you remind Hoseok, citing the scheduled noon meetup you have almost daily, at this point. You don’t think Hoseok will ever go back to Transfiguration if you can help it. You’re rubbing off on him.
“I know, but this is different,” Hoseok says, grabbing onto your hand as he unlocks the greenhouse door. You pay little attention to the way his fingers fit between yours, holding on tightly, like he’s afraid that if he lets go, you’ll vanish. With a shake of the knob, he opens the door to the greenhouse and walks you inside to reveal what you would consider a fairy’s dream home.
He’s strung up little lanterns all over the place, hanging from the ceiling and taped to the wall in strands. There’s a peaceful sort of aura, the warm yellow lights of the lanterns mixing with the clear daylight outside, giving a sort of ethereal glow to anything inside the greenhouse. Besides just the decorations, Hoseok has a collection of various plant species on the tables in the center, all of different shapes and sizes, and next to it, a pile of the gardening tools you use in class.
“What’s this, Hoseok?” You ask in awe, fingers dancing along the strings of lanterns taped onto the walls.
“Just a little something,” he says bashfully, curling into his Hufflepuff robes slightly. “I just thought that maybe you wanted to see what I get up to in here when I’m supposed to be in class.”
“So scandalous,” you chide jokingly. “But that sounds lovely, Hoseok. What do you want to show me?”
Hoseok’s brushing his hand along the plants on the table like they’re his own children. In a way, they sort of are. “If I recall correctly, you didn’t necessarily make frequent appearances in our Herbology class in fifth year, did you?”
“I did not come here to be attacked like this,” you claim defensively.
“Well, since you skipped so much, I thought that I could teach you what you missed. Show you the proper way to care for plants, not the way that the barbaric students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry do. If you want, that is,” he says, smiling shyly. As if you were going to tell him no.
“I would love that, Hoseok,” you tell him. Hoseok beams and the golden of his robes seems to shine a little brighter.
Quickly, he scurries over and gets to work, pulling on some gloves and motioning for you to do the same. Once you’re all prepared, gloves and thick lab coat on to protect your robes, he begins to show you all of the plants he’s lined up, young trees that are still small enough to fit in pots, flowers with magical healing properties. One by one, he introduces you to them, tells you their name and their age like he’s showing you his children.
Ah, so these are the plants Hoseok cares for the most.
Normally there would be some snarky comment on the tip of your tongue, maybe a self-deprecating joke if you’re feeling extra spicy, but you don’t dare interrupt him as Hoseok’s talking, gestures animated and smile wide as he tells you everything he knows about the things he loves. There isn’t a word that even thinks about leaving your lips, not wanting to take away from the love Hoseok holds for these plants and the trust he has in you as he tells you about them.
“And this one only likes direct sunlight when the sun’s rising or setting, otherwise it gets too bright,” Hoseok says, a hand brushing along one of the thick, floppy leaves of the flower. It’s far past blooming season, so all that’s left of the annual blossom are the green bits that are holding onto the remnants of seasons past. “Keeping up?” He asks, leaning into you slightly with a hand on your wrist. “I know it’s a lot.”
“It’s wonderful,” you tell him honestly. “The fact that you know so much about these plants… spent so much time with them… it’s incredible.” You don’t think you’ve ever held so much dedication to anything in your life.
“Ah, well,” Hoseok says with a shrug, like the achievements he’s had in a subject like this mean nothing. Not everyone can do this—not everyone can speak the language of plants, of greenery, of nature. Perhaps Hoseok doesn’t notice this, but you do: the way that even just in his presence, the plants seem to perk up a little, drawn to him, to his existence, like bees to honey.
It’s like that, sometimes. Sometimes there are people so electric that you can’t help but be closer to them.
“Herbology is really all I have going for me,” Hoseok says, and even though it’s supposed to be a joke it sounds kind of sad. Sad like Hoseok really thinks the only thing he’s good for is agriculture. Sad, because Hoseok is so good at so many things that it’s turned his heart into gold. Priceless.
“That’s not true,” you respond instantly. You stop in place, making Hoseok turn to you from where he had been looking down at the pots, looking at you with a kind of helpless expression on his face. “There is so much more to you than Herbology.”
“Like what?” He asks somewhat skeptically, chuckling to himself.
“Like your smile,” you tell him immediately, making him grin a little bit, the corners of his mouth turning upwards. “And your laugh. People don’t go to you to ask for help because you’re good at Herbology. There are plenty of kids who are good at Herbology at Hogwarts. But they go to you, Hoseok, because you are someone who can teach them something. Because they know that you will treat them with respect. And because you’re good company.”
He’s silent.
“At least, I think you’re good company,” you add on. Knowing the students that walk the hallways of this magical school, there are people who take Hoseok’s gift for love for granted, coming to him just so they can get a better grade on this essay or finish this lab report. And maybe you don’t really care for grades and you haven’t done a lab report in years, but that doesn’t matter, because instead of knowing Hoseok as your homework helper, you know him as your friend.
“You do?” He asks, hopeful tone evident in his words.
“Yeah, I do,” you say back, meeting the dark brown of his irises with your own as they twinkle like stars, the fairy lights reflected in a sea of chocolate.
Hoseok smiles like it’s the last time he ever will and pulls you closer to him, handing you a freshly-filled watering can as he continues on with the lesson. And maybe, just maybe, the feeling of his arms wrapped around yours as he guides your grip on the watering can, showing you exactly how to hydrate the plant in front of you so as to ensure maximum consumption, makes your heart beat a little bit faster. Just maybe.
Something that’s come along with plenty of experience as a class-skipper is extensive knowledge of the best ways to get off of campus. You’ve heard tales, legends and fables, of this magical map that shows everybody’s whereabouts at every point of the day, alongside all of the secret passageways out of the castle, but unfortunately you don’t have your hands on something like that, so you’ve had to learn on your own.
Sometimes there are just days where even the wide, open hallways of Hogwarts are too suffocating to stay in.
Because of this, you’ve become a frequenter of Hogsmeade on the average weekday, when students are definitely not supposed to be Hogsmeade regulars. But you never really fit into the status quo, anyway.
Besides, you don’t think anyone in your standard Hogwarts classes will miss you too much if you’re gone for the day.
Hoseok is in Greenhouse 2 when you find him right before the noon classes are in session. Specks of him, little glimpses of his figure are visible through the ivy that covers the walls as he speaks with Professor Sprout about something, watching as he towers over her much shorter frame. You’d probably join in on the conversation, but you and Sprout haven’t necessarily had a great relationship the past few years (re: skipped her class all the time) and though she’s kind, she’d rat you out in a heartbeat.
Instead, while you wait, you wander into Greenhouse 3, its walls still lined with lanterns and all of Hoseok’s favorite plants waiting on the table. Slowly, almost instinctively, you begin to brush your fingers along their petals, their leaves and stems, just as Hoseok does. It only feels natural—to treat them as gently as Hoseok does. You’d feel as though you’d be doing him a disservice if you didn’t.
Perhaps it’s because the skies are overcast today, but the plants look a little sad. Not in the sense that they’ve been poorly taken care of—because you know for certain that that’s not the case—but more that they seem to be drooping, like their moods are down.
“I know,” you hum to them softly, looking at them like you relate to them. “I feel better when I’m around him, too.”
You pick up the watering can by your feet, still half-full, and slowly begin to water the plants in front of you, remembering that this one prefers having the water drip down its massive leaves rather than right at its roots. As you do so, you hear the door open behind you.
“Thought I’d find you in here,” Hoseok muses.
“Guilty,” you say fondly, finishing up the last few drops of the watering can.
“Hey, you remembered how to water them!” Hoseok exclaims excitedly, watching as you empty the can and place it back on the cement floor. “I saw you waiting outside while I was talking to Sprout.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, what we you two chatting about?”
“Oh, she was just telling me about one of her old students that I remind her of,” Hoseok says with a shrug. “Said he was really good at Herbology, too. During the Second Wizarding War. Said he helped kill Voldemort.”
“Hmm, I don’t think you’re cut out for war,” you joke, making Hoseok roll his eyes.
“Oh, God. If I had to help kill Voldemort, I think I’d just die instead,” Hoseok responds back with a chuckle. “Anyway, what’s up?”
With a cheeky grin, you turn to face him, eyes alight with something devious waiting in them. “Do you want to go on a little trip with me?”
A little trip consists of telling Hoseok to look as inconspicuous as possible as you run through the hallways of Hogwarts, scurrying around corners on your way to the passageway to Honeydukes. Acting inconspicuous is already much more of an issue for Hoseok than it is for you—most people don’t ever want to bother you if it appears you’re in the middle of something, whereas Hoseok will enter the Great Hall, laden in his yellow robes, and have a plethora of people waving to him.
But the idea of doing something so blatantly against school rules (re: sneaking out to Hogsmeade) seems to have no effect on the boy as he follows you around the courtyard, hand held tightly in yours until you reach the entrance to the tunnel. He’s paid no attention to the glares you’re getting, the confused stares sent your way as the two of you scamper through the campus. To him, this isn’t something bad. It’s something fun.
“Wow,” Hoseok says as you’re creeping through the passageway. Though it’s dark, it’s clearly been heavily used. It’s probably been here for centuries. “How long have you known about this?”
“Since third year,” you respond, boasting a bit. Your creativity when it comes to your delinquency is something you pride yourself on, ever so slightly.
“You’ve been sneaking out to Hogsmeade since third year?”
“Yes,” you admit casually. “This leads right to Honeydukes’ cellar. But you’re the first person I’ve ever shown this to, so don’t spill any of my secrets.”
“Really?” Hoseok asks. You can’t turn around to make out his face, not that you’ve even be able to in the darkness of this tunnel, but you can hear the way he smiles, lips curling upwards. “I’m honored.”
After a few more minutes you finally reach the trap-door into Honeydukes’ cellar, pushing it open with all your might until it pops unlocked, allowing the two of you to climb out of the tunnel and take a quick respite amongst the boxes and boxes of treats.
“Smells like…” Hoseok says, taking a quick survey of the room. “Smells like Honeydukes.”
What he means is that it smells like sweetness.
Before any of the workers can come down here and find the two of you hiding out amongst the storage compartments, the two of you sneak up into the store’s main room, pretending to be customers rather than stowaways. You don’t suspect Hoseok’s got any money on him, but you’ve brought enough for the both of you, knowing very well that you will probably end up purchasing something on this outing. Maybe you have little regard for school rules, but you’d never steal something.
“Want anything?” You ask, giving Hoseok a nudge when you catch him staring down some Pumpkin pasties.
“I don’t have any money on me,” Hoseok says sadly. “Next time, give me a day’s warning so I can prepare accordingly.”
“I’ll buy something for you,” you say, already reaching into the pocket of your robes to pull out a couple Galleons and a few more Sickles. You’re craving something as well, though you keep eyeing The Three Broomsticks for a nice cup of butterbeer.
“Oh, no, it’s alright,” Hoseok says immediately, but already one of the Honeydukes workers behind the display case has spotted you, smiling to himself as Hoseok insists that he doesn’t want you to buy him anything.
“Come on, please? You showed me all of your plants, the least I could do is buy you a pasty,” you try to reason with Hoseok, smiling up as the fond looks from the worker cause his cheeks to redden, a little embarrassed.
Hoseok seems to grumble his consent, knowing you won’t really take no for an answer when it comes to buying him something from Honeydukes. You end up purchasing two Pumpkin Pasties and escape any sort of questioning as to whether or not the two of you should be in school right now. It seems as though you aren’t the first group of Hogwarts students to play hooky for a day to go to Hogsmeade instead.
Hoseok’s already beginning to bite into his as you make your way out of Honeydukes and onto the single street that stretches down all of Hogsmeade, thanking you through a mouthful of Pumpkin Pasty.
“Let’s sit down before you finish that entire thing within the next three seconds,” you suggest warily, eyes wide as Hoseok opens his mouth for another bite. “I’m craving some Butterbeer.”
Hoseok nods in agreement, wrapping up his pasty and placing it back into the bag that the Honeydukes worker packed your purchase in, hand reaching out for your own. Instantly, your fingers interlock, and maybe it’s because you aren’t cooped up in a stuffy classroom, or a dingy dungeon, but it feels like a breath of fresh air.
You’re seated at a table in the back corner, far from anybody who may be suspicious of two student-age customers trying to be as unmemorable as possible. You order butterbeer for the table and immediately begin to dig into your own Pumpkin Pasty, a little crushed from all of the moving around. It still tastes just as nice as it always does.
“How often do you come here?” Hoseok asks after taking a sip of butterbeer.
“Not super often,” you reassure him. “I swear I don’t just… leave school all of the time. But when Hogwarts starts to get especially suffocating, I’ll come.”
“You feel it too, huh?” Hoseok asks, more to himself. Like he’s telling himself that he isn’t the only one who feels this way. “Like being there is almost… choking you to death.”
You nod in understanding, knowing fully well that there are some things that can’t be explained through words. Hogwarts is wonderful and you’re incredibly lucky to be there, but sometimes it feels like… like it’s pressing down on your shoulders, hands wrapped around your neck. Like you’re stuck in an endless cycle, rinse and repeat of the same exact day, no freedom or autonomy to do what you want and be who you are. Combining that with someone like you makes for a very poor recipe.
“Hogwarts has always been like that for me,” you tell him. “It’s kind of obvious why. I don’t really… fit in with the crowd.”
Hoseok nods. There’s a reason you were wary of befriending someone like him, someone who is well-liked and popular and not a public nuisance. Someone who is the complete opposite of you.
“And I don’t mean to say that in a cool, alternative way that makes me better than everyone else because I’m not some pretentious asshole. I mean… I love being a witch but being at Hogwarts makes me feel isolated. And that’s kind of my fault, too, because I’m probably the bothersome student in our year, but there’s no way for me to change anybody’s minds about me.” You sigh. Stuff like this—you hate talking about it. After spending seven years building up the walls that surround you, brick by brick, conversations like this make you feel as though all of that work has gone to waste.
Maybe Hoseok is the kind of person worth breaking your walls down for.
Hoseok nods, the mutual feeling going unspoken.
“I know where you’re coming from,” he says, and it feels like a slight shocker, hearing something like that from a boy who seems to have almost everything. “I know our situations are different but… oh, I don’t know. I feel sort of… empty? In a way? God, this is hard to explain.”
“Not to sound fake deep but believe me when I say I know what feeling empty is like,” you say, sort of joking, even as you reach your hand out across the table. He takes it instantly. Maybe things are beginning to feel different.
Or maybe this is how they’ve always been.
“Let me put it this way,” Hoseok says, taking a deep breath and another sip of butterbeer to clear his throat. “If people only know me for my aptitude for Herbology, then do people really know me at all?”
And then what happens is it clicks. The gears shift into place like a key into a lock, and you realize that even if you and Hoseok are nothing alike on the outside, you being a delinquent with an affinity for rule-breaking and him being a Herbology nerd who tutors first years in his free time, there’s a reason the two of you found each other. A reason that you ended up locking eyes on the bench outside Greenhouse 3. You don’t believe in prophecies, destiny or any other higher powers that act outside free will, but it feels sort of like that. Feels sort of like you and Hoseok were always meant to find each other. Even if it did take seven years.
“People know me for what I’ve done and not who I am,” Hoseok says. It feels sort of familiar.
“People know everybody like that,” you remind him.
Hoseok’s eyes gaze to where your hands are resting upon each other’s on this hard, splintered wooden table, and then he looks up at you. Suddenly, it’s as though you’re drowning in them. In his being. In him. “Not you,” he says.
Maybe things are beginning to feel different. But maybe this is how they’ve always been.
Like in the real Wizarding World, news spreads around Hogwarts quickly. For the past few weeks or so, you and Hoseok have been meeting up at relatively quiet times during the day at Hogwarts, where very few students are out and about and even less are at the locations you frequently meet up at. But with your meetups becoming more and more plentiful, what has also increased is the number of students around you when you do spot Hoseok.
It isn’t a problem when you’re the subject of their whispers, their stares and pointed fingers. It’s never really been a problem anyway, not when it’s been this way for seven years and counting. You’re used to it.
But it is a problem when you begin to notice that it’s happening to Hoseok as well. That you being around him is like losing popularity in a shitty video game, where suddenly less and less people are interested in the both of you. He hasn’t seemed to notice—not yet, at least, he hasn’t—but when you’ve spent the past seven years of your life watching as other people glare at you, you begin to pick up on it.
It’s the small things. Small things like Hoseok walking into the Great Hall for lunch and instead of being greeted with waves, being greeted with whispers. Small things like him telling you, in the greenhouse one day, that he’s getting fewer requests for Herbology tutoring from the underclassmen. Small things like Namjoon barely saying hello when Hoseok greets him in the halls one day.
The real tragedy is how obsessed everyone at this school is with titles, with labels and popularity and association. How not only do you have to have the best grades and the coolest extracurriculars, you also have to have friends who are equally as high in Hogwarts status as you.
And it’s bullshit no matter who the vicious cycle ends up targeting, but it’s especially maddening when it’s someone like Hoseok. Someone who is only kind and giving and considerate, friendly and reliable, who, even with his faults, is still one of the best people to walk through the front gates of Hogwarts.
In the greenhouse the other day, as the two of you were caring for his plants, Hoseok told you he thought he was beginning to lose his touch with Herbology, as less and less students were asking him for help. And shit like that—that’s unacceptable.
Maybe Namjoon was right. Maybe, if you begin to be the person everyone expects you to be, it won’t be like this anymore.
Hoseok’s always been too good for you, anyway. What made you think this would be any different?
“You’re just another reject Hogwarts kid that doesn’t have a future outside of these walls. Maybe if you learn to conduct yourself properly, then you will.”
Things won’t change unless you do.
For the first time in years, you wake up in time for your first class. In fact, you wake up a healthy hour before, having completed your homework early the previous night and tucked in before anyone else. Before you leave your dorm room to go and get breakfast, you make sure to water all of your succulents, the number of pots sitting on your windowsill now up to nine.
All of this is for Hoseok. Even if you didn’t realize it at first, everything you do is for him.
Your roommates don’t seem to know what to do with themselves when they see you, a full stack of the proper textbooks in your hand, as you walk out of the dormitory with your head held high, heading straight for the Great Hall. Despite what people may think, you are actually on top of most academic events in your life. Whether you choose to act on them or not, well, that’s always a toss-up.
You hope to get to breakfast early, as you have a test in Transfiguration today. It’s a written one with a single spell at the end, the one you’ve been working on perfecting for the past week. Granted, you, didn’t necessarily attend all of the Transfiguration classes in your schedule that were held in the past week, but you know enough. At least, with a bit of last minute studying, you do.
Hoseok’s begun to meet you in the Great Hall for breakfast, but by the time he’s strolling up to where you normally sit, you’ve already packing up your belongings.
“Do my eyes deceive me?” He asks playfully as he swings his body over the seat, sitting down across from you. “Or are you actually doing your homework?”
“I have a test today,” you say simply, turning back to finish gathering your books.
“Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking about going,” Hoseok says with a disbelieving chuckle. “You hate tests. You always say they’re a poor measure for actual intelligence and proof of learning because knowledge from books isn’t the same as the knowledge required for survival in the real world. Or something like that.”
“I’m rubbing off on you,” you say with a shake of your head. “But I really do have to go, Hoseok. I need to get to class.”
Hoseok seems a bit in shock, like he can’t believe the conversation he’s just exchanged with you. You’re normally much more playful, joking around and smiling. Even still, he sends you sort of a shocked wave, bidding you goodbye as you walk out of the Great Hall, trying your very best to ignore the stares sent your way. You feel your heart thud against your chest, as if it’s just fallen slightly.
Your noon class is Charms, whose tower overlooks the courtyard with all of the greenhouses in it. Before your professor calls everyone to their seats, you quickly peer out of the window, just out of curiosity.
Below, waiting on the very bench where you first met, is Hoseok, clearly looking for someone.
Your heart sinks a little more.
You get the highest grade on the Transfiguration test. As your professor is handing back your exams, she stops by you to congratulate you on a job well done. You look down at the E written in dark red ink on the front piece of parchment. As you page through, noticing the lack of red marks and slashes in comparison to the papers around you, you can’t help but feel yourself frowning. Sure, you did well on a test, but it means almost nothing in the grand scheme of things. All it tells you is not that you’ve mastered the material but that you’ve mastered the system.
Namjoon approaches you after your Transfiguration class. You had almost forgotten he was even in it to begin with—not because he’s quiet, but because you seldom attend your Transfiguration class in the first place. His angry red robes and loud, obnoxious personality are relatively difficult to ignore.
“Y/N,” he says, coming up to you as you’re headed out the door. You have to take a different path to Charms now, one that doesn’t take you anywhere near the greenhouses.
“Can I help you?” You ask politely, albeit bitterly. Namjoon isn’t necessarily one of the friendliest people you’ve met.
“I heard you did well on that test in Transfiguration,” he says casually.
“Yeah, I did,” you respond. There’s no point in boasting any further—Namjoon wouldn’t be talking to you if he didn’t already know you received the highest score.
“Good job. I’m impressed,” Namjoon says, and if that isn’t the world’s worst backhanded compliment. Suddenly you receive a decent mark and you’re being showered in false attention by one of the smartest kids in your year? No, thank you.
“Is that all? I really do have to get to my next class,” you say, trying to break away, but Namjoon is bigger and faster than you, and catches up quickly.
“Wait, Y/N, I wanted to ask how you knew Hoseok. Is he helping you get your grade up in Herbology as well?” Namjoon says, pulling you to the side of the hallway so the two of you can chat. You know you can’t necessarily make a break for it now.
“We’re friends,” you say stiffly. Your heart seems to plummet. Just a little.
“Oh. That’s interesting. You know, if you ever want to hang out with us and my friends, you’re welcome to.”
“Because I got the highest grade on our Transfiguration test? Because you suddenly realized I had more to offer than being a nuisance? Because suddenly, now I’m smart and worthy of your time?” You challenge, making Namjoon take a step back in shock. You’ve taunted and teased him before, but never like this. You’ve never directly shouted at him. “News flash, Namjoon. I don’t want to be a part of your crowd. I don’t need all of that fake validation and clout like you do. If grades are all you care about, talk to someone else. I will not be taken advantage of, especially not by you.”
In pure anger, true unadulterated rage, you storm off, leaving Namjoon standing at the side of the hallway outside of your Transfiguration room, speechless. Almost immediately do you find yourself heading towards the greenhouses, ready to rant to Hoseok about how much you hate this school and the people who attend it.
And then you reach Greenhouse 3 to find all of the lights off and the door locked, like it hasn’t been visited the entire morning.
It’s been over a week since you last exchanged more than three sentences with Hoseok. He hasn’t spoken to you in two days. You haven’t even seen him in one.
And yet, here you are, waiting for him like a fool. Like a desperate fool who’s lost the only friend you’ve had in a very, very long time.
Like a fool in love.
When you walk into Charms that day, the very first thing you do is peer out the window. You know it’s hopeless, at this point, to be holding out for someone you’ve all but abandoned, but maybe. Just maybe.
Just as you reach the window, you spot a figure in yellow robes walking inside, not even bothering to spare a glance behind him, but it’s enough. Quickly, you pull out the homework assigned and leave it on the professor’s desk, rushing out of the room and bounding down the stairs, much to the displeasure and slight confusion of your fellow Charms classmates.
You reach the greenhouses in no time, banging on the door to Greenhouse 3 as you begin to catch your breath.
The door creaks open.
“Y/N?” Hoseok asks, looking only slightly worse for wear as he looks at you, almost as if he’s in shock that you’re even here. “Did you… run here?”
“It’s the most exercise I’ve done since you tricked me into getting on the Whomping Willow,” you joke, making him laugh slightly. Slowly, slowly, slowly. Slowly, the Hoseok you know is beginning to return.
“Hey, I promised that I knew how to control it, alright?” He says, letting you inside.
“That didn’t make it any less terrifying,” you tell him pointedly.
A silence settles around the both of you, neither of you knowing exactly what to say next. Hoseok seems to drift towards the watering cans, fingers itching to care for the plants behind you, but then he says, the most bitter you think you’ve ever heard him, “Don’t you have a class right now?”
“Hoseok…”
“Tell me the truth, Y/N,” Hoseok demands, turning to you. “Was it me? Am I the reason you stopped hanging out with me, coming down to the greenhouses? Is it something I did?”
“No—”
“Then why didn’t you tell me,” he pleads. “Why didn’t you explain what happened? I waited for you, right here, for the past week, and you never came. Every time I tried to talk to you, you dismissed me and went off to do your homework. I had to hear from Namjoon that you did well on your Transfiguration test. Why didn’t you want to tell me those things? I wouldn’t have told you the bullshit that Namjoon said to you. You know that I wouldn’t have.”
“Hoseok—”
“Y/N, I’ve been waiting for you. I’ve always been waiting for you. Why?”
“Because you’re too good for me!” You shout back, voice desperate, hoarse. “Because you are way, way too good for me. Don’t lie to yourself, Hoseok. You know that we’re different people. We started hanging out and people began to talk about you. You know that I’m the reason you stopped getting less tutoring requests? Because people began to associate you with me?”
“I don’t care! I don’t care about shit like that, Y/N. I hate that you’re always putting yourself down because you and I are different. That doesn’t make you worse than I do. You, of all people, should know that,” Hoseok responds, equally as distraught.
“I can’t help it! Everyone talks about it; I can’t just pretend it isn’t happening! Sure, I hate that this is how it is, but I can’t change that. You know I can’t change how this world works. But I can change myself, if you’d just let me explain—”
“You turned into a different person overnight, Y/N,” Hoseok says with a frown. “Suddenly you were doing your homework and going to class and being on time and it felt like you didn’t have time for me anymore! It was like I didn’t know you at all,” he trails off, looking down at his feet. “Why did you suddenly turn your life around? To impress everyone else? I never thought you’d turn into one of them, Y/N.”
Red flashes before your eyes. “You want to know why I changed?” You shout. Hoseok nods, furious. “Because I love you, Hoseok! That’s why I changed. Because I love you and you’re too good for me and I thought that maybe if I was a bit different, we’d have a better chance.”
Hoseok is speechless.
“I’m sorry,” you say, much quieter. “I hated the way people were treating you because of me and I know you probably don’t even feel the same way but I just felt like I had to do something, so I—”
Within the second, Hoseok is storming over to you, footsteps heavy, and planting his lips atop yours.
It catches you by surprise instantly, making you gasp into his mouth before you feel his hands come up to hold onto your waist, pulling you in tight. It’s not a deep kiss, no tongue or anything else, but that doesn’t make it any less meaningful. Doesn’t make the rays of heat that radiate off of his body bleed into your skin, warm you from the inside out. His hold feels like home and his lips taste a little bit like strawberry chapstick and pumpkin.
Eventually, you part, and all of the fight seems to have drained out of the both of you. Like you had forgotten why you were shouting in the first place.
“Do you mean it?” Hoseok asks, holding you close, hands having moved from your waist to your cheeks, to cradle your head in his palms.
“What?” You ask.
“You know what,” Hoseok says, rolling his eyes at your defiance.
“I do,” you hum softly, lips curling upwards.
“Good,” Hoseok says. “Because I do, too.”
“What, exactly, is it that you also do?” You ask cheekily. You really just want to hear him say it.
Hoseok groans, but follows it up with a gentle kiss, a simple press of lips against your forehead. “I love you, too.”
You end up spending the rest of the day in the greenhouse with Hoseok (old habits die hard), caring for his plants and having the civil conversation you were probably meant to have before the whole argument from earlier in the day. You’ll never know what you missed in Charms that day, but that’s alright.
“I never got to congratulate you on getting the highest grade on your Transfiguration test,” Hoseok says.
“Ugh, don’t remind me. I don’t even want to talk about it.”
“You know, Y/N. You don’t need to 180 your personality if getting good grades and doing well in school is what you want.”
You stiffen at the implications of this conversation, hidden beneath Hoseok’s words.
“I’m serious,” he says, dropping the watering can in his hands on the ground and coming up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist to embrace you from the back. “I know it goes against your whole ‘school is a societal construct that ranks us via arbitrary values that are meaningless in the real world’ but you’re actually a genuinely intelligent person. You could stick it to someone like Namjoon, if you want. I’ll tell you he was floored when he found out you out-scored him on that test.”
“Was he, now?” You ask, interest piqued. Nothing quite like sticking it to people like Namjoon. You’re their worst nightmare: a public nuisance with brain cells.
“You bet,” Hoseok says.
“I may… consider it,” you tell him, feeling relatively keen on the idea. Sure, it’s the latter half of your seventh year, but it’s never too late to start getting good grades.”
“You better. I want to walk around and tell everyone about my genius girlfriend,” Hoseok says.
“Is that what I am now? Your girlfriend?” You tease, turning around in his hold so that you’re facing him.
“Is that what you want to be?” Hoseok asks, looking down at you.
“I may consider it,” you taunt playfully, making Hoseok roll his eyes.
“Consider it done,” Hoseok corrects you, pressing a kiss to your lips before reaching down to tickle you, ruthless as always. You burst into laughter, tears falling from your eyes as you shout at him to stop.
Maybe things are different now. But if you think about it, maybe this is how they’ve always been.
⇒ hmu with feedback or just talk to me here!
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Hoping for more good days (foreign female reader x park jimin soulmate AU)
So I decided to make this multiple parts because when I sat down and was writing this I realized it was getting quite long for one tumblr post so this will be my first multi chapter fic. I hope ya'll enjoy the first little intro part 💜
“Y/n come on let’s go we’re going to be late!” Today was finally the day you were waiting for. You and your friend had been saving up for a year to finally have enough money to go to South Korea. And the best part? You were finally going to meet the boys that you had been following since their debut, BTS. Admittedly your friend didn’t really understand why you loved them so much but here she was, getting ready to fly across the world with you just so you didn’t have to go alone. She might not understand it, but seeing how happy they have made you has been making her so excited to fly with you to meet your idols. She truly is the best friend you could ever hope for.
Sometimes even you didn’t feel understand what made you so hooked on BTS from the start. You just were instantly drawn to the group. Their choreography and attitude appealing greatly to your younger self in your rebellious years. Seeing the hardships they went through and how much stronger they came out because of it inspired you. They were some of the most humble and hardworking people you had ever seen. You watched them grow up through their music as you grew along with them. People came and went from your life over the past 6 years but BTS was always a constant presence at your side. Words sung beautifully with promises that everything will be okay, just count 2, 3 and forget and hope for better days. Their lyrics providing you comfort during your darkest moments, their bright and funny personalities making you laugh when no one else could. One member in particular you always felt connected to and you never fully understood why.
Park Jimin. The moment you saw him step off that bus in No More Dream you knew you were in trouble. His innocent face, adorable smile and sweet voice instantly had you smitten. His duality gave your brain whiplash. Even to this day you still don’t understand how such an adorable angel can turn into a sensual demon in two seconds flat. Over the course of following his career you’ve seen how caring he is. He has so much love in his heart for others and it just made you like him even more. His soft voice always calmed you down when you were anxious and just made you feel at peace.
Watching him go through is struggles with his body image absolutely broke your heart. You wished you could reach out to him, tell him not to be so harsh on himself and that there are millions of people around the world who loved him but you couldn’t. You literally felt like your soul was aching for him. The struggle of being an international fan frustrated you to no end. All you wanted to do was just thank him and all of the members for helping you through hard times and providing so much comfort through their music. You never thought you’d have the opportunity to do so, already resigning yourself to a life of supporting and cheering them on from afar.
When your best friend announced she had bought you tickets to a fan sign to go to during your trip to South Korea you thought she was joking. “Yeah not a funny joke y/f/n,” you don’t know why she insisted on messing with you but it didn’t amuse you in the slightest. Until she held up the ticket. You screamed and literally tackled her onto the ground sobbing into her shirt. "Hey! Y/n take it easy!" She gently pried your arms off of her as she sat up. You clambered off of her and sat to the side still quietly sniffing and wiping your eyes. "Sorry. I got a little carried away. But seriously this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me thank you so much y/f/n. I feel like nothing I ever do is going to be able to repay you for this." She smiles at you fondly and shoves you away playfully. "Seeing your reaction was payment enough. And you’re my best friend there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you, ya know?"
That was a few days ago and you had been gushing about how excited you were since then. Now that it was actually time to get on the plane to fly to Seoul your anxiety and excitement was through the roof. Your friend drove you to the airport, feeling too jittery to drive. You both made it through security fairly quickly and were now sat on the plane waiting for it to take off. Your friend pulled you towards her and snapped a photo of the two of you and posted it to Twitter tagging BTS official account with the hashtag for the fan meeting. She even wrote a little caption that read “Going to SK so y/n can meet her boyfriend!” When you saw what she posted you shrieked. “Delete that right now!” “No way. Besides you look cute it's a good photo”.
You were watching some of their music videos on the phone and your friend just had to point out that every time Jimin came on screen you blushed as red as a tomato. Once your plane was in the air you laid your head on her shoulder ready to sleep for a few hours. "Just think. In one more day you'll finally be meeting your idols. Are you excited?" "Way too excited. Gosh I hope I don't make a fool out of myself. If Jimin even looks at me I'm going to cry". You can feel her laughing. "Wouldn't that be something if he turns out to be your soulmate?" Your eyes snapped open at that. "Don't even joke like that. Even the thought of talking to him makes me want to puke. I'd go into cardiac arrest if Park Jimin turns out to be my soulmate", your friend starts laughing louder. "Maybe that's why you feel so drawn to him. Your soul is literally calling out to him!" She swoon as you shove her away from you and laugh. The last thought you have before you drift off to sleep is yeah wouldn't that be something? Too bad there's zero chance of that happening.
On the other side of the world Jimin was laying on the couch, scrolling through Twitter looking at posts army had made talking about the fan meeting. When he came across your friends post he read her comment with your responses underneath.
Delete this before I delete you.
No way y/n I'm never deleting this.. And like I said you look cute! I'm sure if Jimin sees this he'll think the same! I'm just playing the role of match maker now say thank you!
I'm serious y/f/n don't think just because we're on a plane right now I won't whoop your ass.
Love you too 💜😂
He couldn't help but laugh at your responses. Cute. He thought to himself. He found himself anticipating the fan meeting even more now, not fully understanding why he felt connected to you already. This should be interesting.
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fic recs
for @ohyoudosmellgood I mostly read shippy fics so there’s some jacob/bella, some edward/bella and a few gen fics. i am picky about edward/bella and prefer au to canon. none of these are ah as i am also not a fan of those
Multi-Chapter Fics
Night Must Fall COMPLETE. In a world of night, shadows known as the Volturi reign supreme. Their word is law, unquestioned and unchallenged. A doctoral student threatens exposure, and a Volturi Prince has been unleashed to silence her forever. AU (Edward/Bella)
The Movement of the Earth Jacob imprints on Bella. It changes things. A re-write of New Moon, beginning on page 242 in Chapter 10: "The Meadow." (One of the essential J/B fics, for a reason.)
The Fire of the Sun Sequel to The Movement of the Earth. Bella finds the cost of joining the supernatural world may be higher than she can pay. Jacob/Bella, Sam/Emily.
What Music They Make When an unexpected conflict with the Volturi brings Jacob back into her life, Bella finds that being a vampire only makes it even more complicated for her to be in love with two people.
Better Now Charlie got Bella the professional help she needed when Edward took off. Now Edward's back - and she's different. AU New Moon - after Volterra - and Eclipse. Mostly in-character, Edward's not villainized. (Love this fic. Bella gets therapy, recognizes her own flaws and those of her relationship with Edward, falls in love again, Edward has to face his own bullshit.)
The Fallout On March 16, 2006, the World changed, and everything and anything that the Cullens ever cared about was lost. They had to find their own way in this New World. Edward never wished to exist in a world where Bella didn't. Unfortunately, his family desperately needed him, so he'd stay to help them. And by doing so, he hoped to redeem himself for his failure to save the one creature he couldn't protect.With rumours in the South of humans feeding off the living and stealing people from their beds, the Cullens have a responsibility to protect the ones they can from those monsters in the night. This was Edward's last chance to fight for his soul and his salvation. He would finally be ready to face Judgement day and be deemed worthy enough to be with Bella once again. Or would something or someone change the path he was destined to go down? Faith, hope and love are powerful things, and Edward is about to find out just how powerful they are. (AMAZING. Nuclear apocalypse story. Explores each of the Cullens in depth, forces them to grow in absolutely gut wrenching ways. Very visceral and disturbing imagery at times but well worth it.)
Neon Moon New Moon A/U. Abandoned by the Cullens, Bella emerges from depression with a wall around her heart and a chip on her shoulder. Closed off and immersed in her college studies, she finds her emotional outlet in a surprising source. (Biker!Bella, allowed to move on and be angry. Featuring an amazing and cathartic scene where she FINALLY gets to confront Edward. Not very Edward friendly.)
Ithaca is Gorges New Moon from Carlisle's and Edward's POV: After the Cullens leave Bella and move to Ithaca, NY, Carlisle fights to keep his family together as Edward's pain threatens to tear them apart. Canon.
Dark Side of the Moon New Moon from Edward’s POV (Because I am a ho for angst.)
Tale of Years Series: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/5396831/Jessica314 I’m linking the authors profile as this series has multiple fics. It’s a chronicle of the Cullen family, beginning with a visit from the Volturi which spirals into Edward’s rebellious period. It goes through each Cullen sibling joining the family, fleshing out each character so much, and is just heartbreakingly beautiful and in character. It’s canon to me now.
One Shots
Alice’s Observations: or: ten things Bella neglected to tell you about the Cullens because reality is never neat. (lovely exploration into the cullen family)
Life on the Natural Path “Independence is happiness.” – Susan B. Anthony Bella chooses life and finds herself in the process.
5 Times Bella Swan Did Not Kiss Jacob Black (And One Time She Did)He will always remember how on the night she came back to him, he saw a shooting star.
Prisoner to the Sun "You know...I can give you forever, too." Fifty moments in the lives of Jacob Black and Bella Swan. From fights to kisses to everything in between. (Originally posted 6/24/09.)
Motorcycles:
From New Moon: "The anger was what I wanted to hear—false, fabricated evidence that he cared, a dubious gift from my subconscious."Edward left Bella. Or did he?
How Quickly Comes the Breaking Dawn The flight from Seattle, Washington, to Fairbanks, Alaska, is three hours and forty-two minutes long. And for all three hours and forty-two minutes, Bella Cullen feels as though she cannot breathe. It is time at last for Bella to be turned - and Jacob will stop at nothing to change her mind.
Epitaph for an Empty Grave Rosalie Lillian Hale. Born: 10 October, 1915. Died: Unknown. Beloved daughter, devoted sister, cherished friend. 'Non lugenda est mors quam consequitur immortalitas.' Canon, post-Breaking Dawn. Rated M for mature themes. Detailed warning inside.
This is My Beloved Son, In Whom I Am Well Pleased Why, after more than two centuries alone, did Carlisle break down and turn a 17-year-old boy? He told Bella it was because Edward's mother had demanded it, but in all his years of life, surely she wasn't the first. Why did this boy get under his skin so?
I Keep Smoking Cigarettes Leah takes a long drag and exhales into the bright evening air, watching the smoke fade against the dimming sky. “I don’t like weddings,” she mutters simply. (Leah and Rosalie!!!!)
5 Times Leah Lost Something Suddenly she’s hit with the responsibilities that come with being the eldest. And she knows that Seattle is dead, along with her dreams, but it matters little compared to the weight that had just been settled onto her shoulders like a yoke.
Great Escape Suddenly words were balanced on the edge of Bella’s tongue. They threatened to destroy everything that she had ever built here in Forks. But sometimes you have to destroy things when they get too damaged. Break down, rebuild. Jacob/Bella
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Sloth in Soho-Ch. 1
Welp. Guess I’m reviving this blog to post a Good Omens fan fic that I wrote while I wait for AO3 to let me in.
Here we gooooo.
~Hel.
Crowley, as a demon living on earth, was very familiar with sin. In fact, he considered himself an expert in all seven of the cardinal ones, having indulged in each and everyone over his eternal life. Sometimes daily. Sometimes multiple times a day. Hell, hourly when he was having particularly strong streak of indulgence and wickedness.
Pride was perhaps his number one go to. Oh, he wasn’t exactly proud of being a demon. There was something about the role that always seemed to fit poorly, like he had walked into a boutique and picked out a good quality Halloween costume instead of an actual outfit. No, his pride was centered on his cleverness and good looks. He fancied himself one of the more intelligent demons from the pit and he always kept his appearance in top shape, never giving over to the warts and blemishes of his counterparts. Perhaps if he had spent more time ‘in the office’ he’d let himself go but, as it were, he didn’t have to worry about that much anymore.Wrath was another one he was pretty adept at. He had been simmering with anger for well over six thousand years. Anger at the Almighty for tossing him aside, anger at Lucifer for being so well spoken and appealing to his rather curious and rebellious nature, anger at his former ‘friends’ for turning their back when he Fell, anger at his fellow demons for being such a sorry, pathetic lot, anger at himself for not leaving well enough alone.
He was careful with his Wrath, almost afraid of it. There were those that didn’t deserve his anger, after all, and he was never one for letting something so deeply personal wound those around him. Better to direct it at the foliage and piss people off with inconveniences so they could feel a fraction of what he felt daily.
He related Envy directly back to his Wrath. He could taste the want on his forked tongue before he fell into a particularly bad fit. He envied the heavenly hosts and their clean lines and nicely coiffed visages. They had never tasted sulfur or had to wrestle with their own, personal beasts taking a very physical form. He envied humans and their ability to flit about doing as the pleased, even when they felt they had no control at all. He envied even his fellow demons for how easily they abandoned their past selves and threw themselves into their roles. Wrath and Envy, feeding each other constantly in never ending supply.
Much like the former, Gluttony and Greed held on to each other tightly. Greed spurred him to have things. He didn’t need a flat or plants or a fancy car or expensive clothing and accessories...yet he had all of these things and, even as he considered himself a minimalist, he always had an eye out for new souvenirs. He wanted what others had on earth, a home and the things that came with it but he never felt like it was enough. There was always something more he needed. A void that he was always trying to fill.
Lust. Lust was nice. Lust felt harmless and felt good. One could lust after something or someone and never need possess it. He lusted often. Sometimes he’d indulge. A pretty face with a prettier smile could destroy him, leaving him weak in the knees. A few whispered words and a smile of his own and he could indulge in not only his own lust but others as well. Sure, sometimes a husband or wife would be hurt or a career ruined but it seemed so small and surmountable. Harmless, in the great scheme of things, and a good side note in a memo back to the office.
Well, when he had to send memos to offices. He didn’t really do that anymore, though he still kept notes in case things went tits up.
Now, Sloth. Sloth was his all time favorite. Sloth was easy. He could do nothing for years and, if ever called out on it, he need only say he was practicing or coax the mortals in his surrounding area to follow his lead then all was fine again. He had slept a century away, once, letting his aura spread out like the blankets he had nestled under. When he woke up he had found the quaint neighborhood he had taken up in had grown to be rather materially wealthy with unscrupulous souls who were growing fat off the hard work and pain of others while they, themselves, did nothing.
Head office had loved it. A true long came. He had gotten a certificate of commendation with Lucifer’s signature and everything. It was currently packed away in the bottom of one of the few boxes he was stacking near the front door of his flat.
Head office didn’t call on him anymore. He had been fired which...well. It didn’t mean much, really. He was still a demon with demonic vices only, now, he could perform and tempt and create mischief in ways the pleased him instead of some great Beast with a fancy signature. The only downside was that severance package: a constant sense of paranoia and dread coupled with a feeling that he should change things up a little.
He had decided to move a few weeks after he did his part in averting apocalypse. His sparse, brutalist inspired flat no longer seemed fitting for his new lease on life. Its concrete walls reminded him too much of the hallways of Hell and what use was that, anymore? He toyed with the idea of using his talents to redecorate but, even with his limited imagination, he found it hard to see the space differently than it was.
Better to start fresh in a new location and let the place itself inspire who he wanted to be.
That his new flat happened to be in Soho was brilliant stroke of luck that he tried not to think too hard about. Soho was a sought out neighborhood, after all. People could end up on waiting lists a hundred names deep for a decent one bedroom flat without a kitchen. Anything beyond that was snapped up before the ink could dry in the classifieds section of the paper.
That not only a flat but an all out house with a driveway had opened up and was available around the time he started looking was nothing short of unlikely. That it was not even a five minute walk from a certain book shop in an area that he was sure sported very few houses was miraculous.
He didn’t question it out loud. He had only made arrangements, paid not only a deposit but his first years rent in advance, and told Aziraphale of his great luck when they had met for dinner that night.
Aziraphale had looked guileless. Truly astounded. What good news, Crowley! Surely that meant he’d visit more often? Perhaps they could have lunch more often! Daily, even!
Crowley pretended to not notice that the angel seemed smug. He was good at noticing these things. He was better at ignoring them.
He was very good at ignoring a lot of things about Aziraphael, none of which were worth recounting because acknowledging was exactly the opposite of ignoring. He wasn’t sure which vice steadfastly ignoring something fell under. Perhaps Sloth? Yes. That seemed to fit well enough.
Even thinking of his favorite sin made his eyes itch with sleep. Well, he had been packing for a few days straight. Even before that he had been avoiding indulging himself for over a week. Unlike most demons, Crowley could dream. He quite liked it, most times, as they were usually just ideal reflections of his everyday life. A particularly well executed plan, a smooth temptation, a green house all of his own, a good evening spent in angelic company….
His last nap had been...tumultuous. The images were jumbled and reflected memories and...and his own unconscious imaginings. It was a nightmare, something a demon should be unfazed by. Yet it had stuck with him.
It was a coincidence that he had decided that a change of scenery was needed the next day.
He was shaken from his thoughts by the buzzer of his flat notifying him of the arrival of the movers. Great. Good. Late but, hey, who was he to pitch a fuss about it?
He was a demon, after all.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Aziraphale, angelic principality, was a common sight in Soho. Most paid him no mind. He and his shop were simply a fixture of the neighborhood. That both seemed to never age or go anywhere were an afterthought, barely retained once they recognized him. Still, when people did grasp onto his presence, they usually noted a book or a take away bag tucked under his arm as he fussed about.
The probably explained the occasional curious look he was getting as, instead of either of those items, he had a potted plant tucked under his arm. He was quite proud of it. A succulent with a dark top and golden undersides that reminded him of Crowley perfectly. A fantastic house warming present!
He hoped.
Luckily, hope was something he had in abundance.
There was perhaps the tiniest bit of a spring in his step as he by-passed his shop, heading to his dearest friends new abode. Crowley had been in his neighborhood entire day now and he hadn’t been over for some tea! Nevermind the demon had warned him to stay away for at least twenty-four hours as he moved in and decorated to his liking. Aziraphale had offered to help, of course. A celestial being and demonic one working miracles together was certain to make the work go faster than one on their own!
Crowley had politely declined. Well, politely for Crowley.
Aziraphale had followed his instructions to the letter and he was anything if not punctual. Even his diversion to the garden center had been planned to leave him just the right amount of time to make the trek, on foot, to his best friends house.
He beamed brightly at the home as he approached, feeling a tiny bit proud of himself. The owners, a sweet elderly couple that had stuck together through thick and thin, had quite suddenly come into a bit of a windfall in the form of a winning lottery scratch ticket and decided to retire to villa in Spain as they had always dreamed of doing. The only reason they had decided to not sell the home out right to some enterprising developer was because of the need to have a source of extra income. A good, well deserved stroke of fortune for some truly decent and loving people.
That Crowley had been planning on relocating and that it was just so close to his shop was a coincidence. Mostly. He may have worked a little miracle on the lottery ticket and, perhaps, mentioned how the home would probably be torn down when sold in a passing conversation with the couple...but that was it!
...well, aside from inspiring the garden to bloom a bit brighter just in case Crowley did decide to look into it. Which he had.
He opened the gate to the front path with barely contained excitement. It screeched loudly on rusted hinges, causing him to wince. Oh. Oh that wouldn’t do at all! A flick of his hand and the screeching stopped, the hinges suddenly well oiled. That done he made his way to the front door, noting that the plants in the flower bed seemed to be in need of a good watering. Hm. Crowley must not be quite settled yet...or he was hesitant to scream at his flower beds in broad daylight in front of a busy street.
Still contemplating the state of the garden he distractdly knocked on the door, a soft sound that barely reached his own ears. Somehow, Crowley always heard his tentative knocking.
Except this time he was left waiting. He shifted the plant in his arms, making it more obviously seen for when Crowley opened the door. He waited.
Then, after a brief moment of anxious hesitation, knocked again. Louder. Perhaps the acoustics of the demons former flat allowed for his knocks to carry differently than this house.
This time there was some movement from...somewhere. Upstairs if he had to hazard a guess. He supposed he could reach out, touch Crowley’s aura, and simultaneously know the demons position and notify him of his presence but they tended to leave that for more urgent circumstances. Brushing each other aura’s and tracking one another was...well, it felt invasive. Neither of them were a fan, though Aziraphale often wondered if Crowley’s ability to appear where he happened to be was the result of him ‘checking in’ more often than he let on.
He never asked about it.
Aziraphale’s brow was pinched in confusion. Still no answer. He was debating whether he should knock again, reach out with his energy, or just walk straight through the door when the latter suddenly just...swung open. “Ah! I was beginning to-” He stopped and peered into the home. It seemed dark for a sunny afternoon. As far as he could tell everything had been unpacked and Crowleys possessions were now adorning the interior but...it felt off.
Well, a door opening with no one behind it, as it had, would feel off.
Aziraphale hesitated at the threshold. He was not one for horror movies but he did indulge, from time to time, in written works of macabre and dreadful. It was a bit of a morbid fascination of his and horror did offer some fantastic insights into the heart of man and the fears that plagued them. It was research, he told himself.
.This was like one of those penny dreadfuls. A door opening on its own, inviting an unwitting guest to indulge their curiosity. Only...Aziraphale knew the nature of beasts that lurked in the shadows, this one being particularly familiar.
Once again he considered reaching out but...what if this was a game? Would he be runing some surprise of Crowleys if he started prodding? If his hands hadn’t been occupied by the potted succulent he would have wrung them. Everything felt strange. He was deeply attuned to the emotions of others but Crowley always had a firm wall in place. It would develop a fissure from time to time, such as when doomsday was bearing down upon them, and Aziraphael could feel the fear and desperation in the demons being. Since, though, the wall had gone back up and Crowley had gotten back to being Crowley albeit without infernal direction.
There was a tidal wave of emotions being held in just beyond that door way. A floodgate waiting to spill out into the surrounding area. Aziraphale could pick no dominant emotion, rather it was like everything was being felt all at once, all the time. The longer he tried to tune in to it the more his stomach churned.
Right. Something needed to be done. He needed to cross into the unknown.
His feet stayed rooted in place. Oh. He was afraid. What if this was an unwelcome intrusion?
A moment more of hesitation and he straightened his already impeccable posture further. He was the guardian of the east gate! A Rogue Angel! A bookshop keeper that was regularly cussed out by humans! He could handle a little unknown evil!
With that in mind he took a breath...and crossed the threshold.
The door swung shut behind him.
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Hi hi hi ! Do you think you could do a list of must-have read fics ?? I'm relatively new to the fandom ( july ! ) and I didn't read all the famous fics yet. I've read Unbelievers and the amnesia fic !
Pull Me Under - As the first British footballer to come out at the prime of his career, it helps that Louis Tomlinson is in a long-term, committed relationship. Even if that relationship is fake. (Featuring Niall as Louis' favourite teammate, Liam as Louis' agent, and Zayn as Liam's boyfriend, who just happens to be good friends with one Harry Styles.)
These Inconvenient Fireworks - Future AU in which nobody tries out for X Factor but the boys end up finding one other eventually anyway. Louis is a jaded bastard who owns a cat named Duchess and teaches drama to teenagers, Harry is an idealistic aspiring photographer/part-time footy coach, Zayn teaches English lit and wears leather jackets, Liam saves people from burning buildings, and Niall is Niall.
Love is a Rebellious Bird - AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.
Don't hum Bolero.
Young & Beautiful - Louis, to his horror, attends an elitist university in which the name Zayn Malik means something, Niall Horan doesn't stop talking, there are pianos everywhere, and Harry Styles, only son of a drug-addled, clinically insane ex-rocker, has a perfect smile and empty eyes.
Wear it Like a Crown - As part of a team of fixers hired to handle a gay scandal in Buckingham Palace, Louis expects Prince Harry to be a lot of things—most notably a royally spoilt brat. Never mind that the very same Prince Harry used to star in quite a number of Louis' teenage fantasies.
Empty Skies - For three years, Harry has been running from his past. Now, he is moving to London and pledges to fulfil his only dream -- making it big in the music industry. Not everyone has a place, though, and the competition is tough. As is his past catching up on him.
Louis is part of the biggest boy band of the world, and getting there had meant a lot of hard work, as well as sacrificing parts of his heart and soul. He's still happy. Maybe not as happy as he could be, but who is he to complain?
Red Brick Heart - Harry has only had his room for thirty-two minutes when it stops being his.
Uni AU. Harry had turned up at the halls of residence expecting fun, new friends, and maybe a life experience or two. What he doesn't expect is a surprise roommate who's loud and dramatic and obsessed with tea and is maybe, actually, all he's ever wanted.
Wild And Unruly - Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.
Escapade - In the grand scheme of things, finding a date for a wedding should be no problem for Louis Tomlinson. He's rich. He's handsome. He's reasonably well behaved. But when the wedding is for his lifelong best friend (and former boyfriend), and is happening in under a month, finding a date for the ceremony and accompanying festivities becomes more of an adventure than he ever could have planned for.
Relief Next To Me - What happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific Craigslist post? Fate, friendship, food, and maybe more.
And Then a Bit - “We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”
Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts.
Baby Heaven’s In Your Eyes - They couldn’t be more different if they tried. Louis Tomlinson is 17 years old and in his last year of the most prestigious private school in Doncaster. If there’s one thing that completely annoys him, it’s that there is a poor community college right across the street.
Harry Styles is 19 years old, and (once again) in his last year of college. He goes to community college in Doncaster. He never shows up to classes and if he actually bothers to, he’s either high or drunk; sometimes both. His skin is littered with tattoos and if there’s one thing he absolutely hates, it’s the snobby students attending the private school right across from his.
Into the Blue - In which Louis is Harry's scuba instructor and quite happy to provide the requested special treatment, pun fully intended. It can't be all that difficult to convince Harry that they're on the same page, right? Also, Niall and Liam may or may not be dating, and Zayn is surrounded by emotionally stunted idiots. He bears it with dignity.
feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream - “Alright, alright. No need to bite,” Harry says, holding his hands above his head in a general gesture of surrender.
Louis quirks an eyebrow and his foot nudges Harry’s as he moves to sit straight. “If that’s what you think biting is, you’ve got another thing coming, Styles.”
Harry blinks at him before he feels his face flush and inside the marrows of his bones there’s pulses of heat, pulses of fire spreading through him. “Is that a threat, your Highness?”
“That’s a promise,” Louis answers just as the car halts to a stop. “One I intend to keep.”
Harry is a journalist with a lot of secrets and Louis is the future king of the United Kingdom; they live together for 60 days.
You Are The Blood - A seventh-year Hogwarts AU in which Niall gets all the girls, Liam goes on a journey of self-discovery, Zayn falls in love, Harry wants something more, and Louis tries to figure out once and for all why he, a Muggleborn, was sorted into Slytherin.
Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can’t Lose - American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).
Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football.
A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?
My Heart is Breathing For This Moment in Time - When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old.
Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they're put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true. Except for the small fact that Louis doesn't know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry's always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started.
A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile.
Gods & Monsters - The instructions were simple: seduce and destroy Harry Styles. Not once did they discuss the option of Louis actually falling in love. So, naturally, that's exactly what he did.
Here In The Afterglow - “If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.
Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.”
Say Hallelujah, Say Goodnight - Louis is an angel who is just a little too bad to be good, Harry is a demon who is just a little too good to be bad, and they're both a little too in love to be impartial when angels and demons go to war.
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So, your posts once again inspired me & I finally went down the rabbit hole and started watching the 100. I have jumped aboard the Kabby train. WHAT HAVE I BEEN DOING WITH MY LIFE BEFORE NOW. DID IT EVEN HAVE MEANING? Also, any & all recommendations of fellow accounts to follow or fan fiction would be most appreciated. Also, just wanted to remind you that I think you’re fantastic and I adore. I hope you are doing better. If not, I’m here if you need someone to rant or pour your heart out to.
HI HELLO YES!! First off, I’m so glad that you’ve come to join the Kabby fam. Some of the best people are in this fandom and many of my nearest and dearest friends were made in the Kabby fandom. Fun fact – Kabby is actually the reason I started fandammit in the first place! My main blog (optimisticynic) was just a hodge podge of whatever but once I binged the first two seasons of The 100, I fell in love with Kabby so completely that I decided to start this one. It’s also the fandom I’ve written for the most, even if I’ve mostly stepped away from doing so in the last year or so.
Secondly, though we’re a rather small fandom relative to the rest of the general The 100 fandom, we have some mighty talented folks! I highly suggest you follow all these lovely folks and scroll through their kabby fic tag because they are all fantastic writers. I don’t know what your preferences are in terms of AU vs. canon, smutty or not, and I don’t know quite how far you are, so just know that these are all kinds of fic and will have spoilers for all seasons.
@abbygkane
There’s something with the birds (AU)
Eyes on fire
@abbykomskaikru
Lessons in love (AU)
Oblivion
@abigailkanes
hush, hush, keep it down now (contains smut)
this world is gonna break your heart
@alt-mariah
Stained Glass (AU)
@beautiful-rebellious-sunflower
Everyone can see it
Apples and oranges (contains smut)
@blizzaurus
Marriage (and other diplomatic moves) (AU)
Steam (contains smut)
@doctoraliceharvey
In the end you are my beginning (AU)
@kane-and-griffin
The life you make in ruins (contains smut)
Promised land
@ofhouseadama
for every matter under heaven
seven against thebes (AU)
@shefollowedfires
There will be time (contains smut)
Election
@skaihefamarcus
Forsaking All Others (AU)
Memories are mapped out (by the lines we’ll trace)
@stardustandteacups
My heart in your hands
Through the windows to your soul
@this-croissant-empty-yeet
Be careful what you wish for
Little Tree
Again, I highly suggest you follow all these folks and scroll through their entire fic-ography, because each and every one of them is so incredibly talented.
Finally, if you’re interested, here are all the fics I’ve ever written for Kabby organized in one handy masterpost. Not all of them have migrated over to Ao3, so that ones a bit more accurate.
My personal favorites are:
An Alchemy of Stardust (AU)
15 ways to build a life
Enjoy! :)
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What are your comfort fics (fics you just go back to all the time)
That’s a great question! Most of these are fluffy but I will admit I do love a good angst with a happy ending fic. Also some of these are just older “classics” that remind me of my days first entering the fandom and have nice feelings bound up in that. But ultimately all of them make super happy. Here are some of my faves: (long list so some under the cut!)
I found a love (darling just dive right in)
Louis, an omega with very little control. Harry, an alpha with a lot of emotion. Neither of them have any idea what do to with this little thing called love, but they'll be damned if they don't put up a good fight.
Living Reflections from a Dream
When Louis arrives at the family orange plantation that summer, the last thing he expects is to find an arrogant, semi-naked university student from California lounging on his bed.
Forever, Uninterrupted
Harry finds a mysterious picture in Louis' bag one night and drives himself crazy over it. It's definitely not what he thinks.
nonstop earthquake dreams of you
Harry falls hard and finds louis already at the bottom
we’re gonna conquer dragons
Louis's eyes are blue blue blue and Harry's drunk and just wants to hold his hand.
The boys play truth or dare at the bungalow.
Amaryllis
The one where harry gets bitten by a werewolf. louis is the mysterious not-quite alpha, liam and zayn have Things going on, niall is their token human, and together, they watch a lot of TV.
You Flower, You Feast
He's King of the Underworld, but don't assume Louis has it all. He could stand for some excitement in his monotonous, eternal life and maybe, even.....a soulmate.
(Despite not having a soul.)
And along came "Harry".
Elysian
Harry is running out of time to fall in love, but with Louis, it seems as if there’s all the time in the world.
Finding Lou
Louis is the nomadic stranger who wanders into Harry’s bookstore. Harry is the skeptic who falls for him.
feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream
Harry is a journalist with a lot of secrets and Louis is the future king of the United Kingdom; they live together for 60 days.
strawberry milk fic
au where harry paints his nails and drinks strawberry milk and is too nervous for it to be nothing and louis' just trying to figure out whats wrong with him
Soft Feet, Fast Hands, Can’t Lose
American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).
Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football.
A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?
Here in the Afterglow
1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.
Love Is A Rebellious Bird
AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.
my heart is breathing for this moment in time
When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old.
Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they're put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true. Except for the small fact that Louis doesn't know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry's always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started.
A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile.
The Dead of July
Harry is Captain America, and Louis’ been dead for 70 years.
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A little fresa wedding I
Kudos and Thanks are in line, because this fic isn’t only mine :D It belongs just as much to the wonderful @miris-xo WHO CELEBRATES HER BIRTHDAY TODAY YAAAAAY and who is like 99% of the reason this wedding fic exists and keeps motivating me with her moodboards and ideas and comments ♥ Also please please develop this love for my actual WIP it feels very abandoned
This will be a little series because, well, I am incapable apparently of writing short scenes and no one needs a +10k post. I truly hope you’ll enjoy it!
And as always: @ac-ars and @sky-girls used the name Rory first. I used my own brain to end up with this name (also because of my roommate who is obsessed with Gilmore Girls and keeps trying to talk me into watching it), which is why I didn’t give them any credit.
Word count: 3k
Pt. I – Getting there
The realization that she will marry Matteo hits Luna quite late.
It doesn’t come when they’re at home, packing their bags and double-checking every list until they both fall into bed exhausted. It’s not during their flight, where little Aurora cries and cries before she finally calms down after an hour of screaming. It’s not even when she hands her daughter over to her parents for the night and steps into her hotel room, where Nina already unpacks their suitcases.
No, the moment her wedding begins to feel real to Luna is when they arrive at the venue to see how the preparations are coming along.
Next to her, Nina gasps at the sight, not to Luna’s surprise. She remembers making the same surprised noise when she first saw the mansion about a year ago. Rosecliff is, without a single doubt, stunning. Its white bricks paint a bright contrast to the surrounding trees, and the air carries the perfume of the flower gardens, mixed with the scent of the ocean. Just one glance at the building, and Luna feels like a young princess about to experience her first ball night.
Only that this won’t be a ball night, but her wedding.
(If she keeps repeating it, will it stop feeling like a daydream?)
“How did you hear about this place again?” Gastón asks Matteo, and while her fiancé answers, Luna’s thoughts wander back to the stress of picking a venue. No matter where they searched, not a single place in Argentina fit their criteria. Ideas were traded back and forth, as quickly dismissed as they came, heads were shaken, tears were shed. More than once, when the task of planning their big day overwhelmed her, Luna considered to just grab Matteo’s hand and marry him on the spot, in jeans and t-shirt, without friends and family.
In the end, it was his cousin who made sure they’d get a gorgeous venue instead, far away from the eyes of the paparazzi and big enough to include all their loved ones.
Flor had mentioned Newport when she stopped by for a couple of days, admiring the ocean and the old, yet carefully restored buildings all around the island. She went on and on about the romantic potential and lamented that not a single picture managed to capture its true beauty.
That’s when Luna first caught the glimmer in Matteo’s eyes.
Still, they hesitated to fly over, despite Flor’s excitement and the promising results of a quick internet research. With less than three months left till her due date, Matteo and her wondered if such a long flight carried too many risks (yet alone the possibility of being spotted by the media or an over-sharing fan), but travelling here after she gave birth meant postponing the wedding for easily another year.
And they felt they had waited long enough. So, when the doctor gave them the green light, they booked the flights.
Luna knew it was the right decision the moment they entered the path towards the mansion. The rose gardens, the romantic fountain at the backside, the view on the ocean. Every little spot offered a lovely invitation for photographs, every detail the tour guide mentioned seemed more perfect for a wedding.
It wasn’t the gardens or the luxurious furniture or the huge ballroom that took Luna’s breath away ultimately, though.
No, Luna fell for this venue when she laid eyes on the breathtaking, heart-shaped staircase.
Made from white marble, it contrasts the black railing and burgundy carpet perfectly. Her eyes must’ve lit up, and that was when Matteo let them fall behind the group of tourists and asked her if she wanted to marry him here.
Her answer came fired like a shotgun.
///
Today, less than 24 hours before the ceremony, the air buzzes of excitement. Nina and Miranda – their wedding planner and fairy godmother, probably – hurry off like little bees, crossing lists and answering phone calls, while Gastón keeps an eye on the workers.
But with the explicit order to relax and be happy, Luna and Matteo decide to leave them be and stroll to the back of the house. Sunlight kisses her skin as she looks around, while Matteo by her side hums contently.
“It’s so beautiful,” Luna sighs, meaning it from the bottom of her heart. Little Aurora on her hips giggles, before she stretches her arm towards the ocean, waving it up and down rapidly. “Dada!”
Matteo caresses the cheek of his daughter, then presses soft kisses on Luna’s neck and lets his mouth wander up to her ear. “I think she wants to see the ocean,” he whispers.
“Well, she’s not the only one.”
Although the railing along the cliff isn’t far away, 70 meters at most, getting there takes forever. Matteo insists on showering her in kisses, occasionally giving Rory one or two if she manages to hold still long enough. It doesn’t help that each smile and soft giggle out of Luna’s mouth encourages him more, until he eventually starts to whirl her, around and around, faster with every turn. His little fresa laughs and laughs and laughs – and begins to cry.
“Oh no, Rory, sweetie, everything’s okay,” Luna mumbles to her daughter as she presses her against her chest.
“Sorry, little princess, I’m sorry, really, daddy didn’t want to spin you so much. He just got a little too excited over marrying your mommy.”
“Shh, we’re here, darling.” Her hand wanders up and down her small back, a gesture their little girl usually loves, yet another minute of cooing and cuddling her passes before her cries turn into occasional hiccups.
Turning to her soon-to-be-husband, Luna raises an eyebrow. “No more spinning with her in my arms, okay?”
“Of course not.”
And with one last kiss on her temple, everything is good again.
///
When Aurora gawks at the waves crashing against the beach and Matteo’s arms wrap around Luna’s waist from behind, it sinks in that only one night separates her from her wedding day. One more sleep, and she will be Luna Balsano Valente.
One more sleep, and her eternity with Matteo starts officially and for everyone to be seen.
One more sleep, and she will walk on this grass in her wedding dress.
She will give her body and soul to Matteo, will promise to love him now and for the rest of time in front of their families and friends.
She will be his, and he will be hers.
Stealing a glance at him, Luna discovers this wide grin on his face that makes him look so young and carefree. Just the thought of being married to him by this time tomorrow fills her with an intoxicating cocktail of excitement and happiness.
Luna can’t wait.
///
Pt. II – The night before
The heavy curtains of the suite block every little ray of moonlight from sneaking into the room. Quietness surrounds the hotel, offer her peace and tranquility. The bed is so comfortable she considers taking it home with her. Overall, perfect conditions to get the rest she needs for tomorrow.
And yet, Luna can’t sleep.
Her eyes won’t stay closed, her mind won’t calm down. She’s awake, awake, awake and with every minute she thinks more about the wedding. Her wedding.
Maybe she could find sleep if Matteo was here. Over the years, he perfectioned the art of relaxing her. He’d listen to her worries, and her expectations for this day they’ve both been waiting for so long. He’d hold her in his arms, his fingers brushing over her skin while he comforts her. He’d guard her as she slowly drifts into unconsciousness.
He’d be here, but he’s not, because everyone insisted on following this old, stupid tradition.
It’s not even the first time she lays in her bed without him, and it certainly won’t be the last one. And it’s just one night anyway, this shouldn’t be such a big deal.
Still, Luna misses him. Him and little Aurora who’s with her parents, probably sleeping like an angel.
Next to her, Nina tosses and turns, shifts on the mattress until she settles into a new position. Then, her breathing returns to the same calm rhythm that fills the air for half an hour now. In, and out, in, and out...
Luna gives up.
///
Matteo’s room which he shares with his best man lays on the opposite side of the floor. Only Pedro’s and Delfi’s room separates her from her fiancé. Light slips through to the hallway from their room, though, accompanied by familiar laughter - Gastón seems to catch up with the Rollerband and their latest tour rather than to fulfill his responsibility of watching the groom.
Which definitely plays into Luna’s cards.
With featherlight steps, she hushes to Matteo’s door, knocks carefully. Seconds later, footsteps come closer and he opens, hair messy and mouth half open from a yawn. Upon seeing her, his eyes widen but he recovers quickly enough to pull her into the room and lock the door behind him.
“Luna, hi, is everything okay?” A little wrinkle appears on his forehead, while his gaze glides over hers, inspecting her.
She hugs him and inhales the scent of his skin. “I can’t sleep,” she mumbles.
“Me neither,” he admits.
///
They end up hushing outside.
The lawn under her naked feet feels soft as they sneak out on the spacious estate. Hand in hand, they stroll closer to the cliff, following the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. When they’re out of view from their friends’ rooms, they let themselves fall into the grass, giggling like rebellious teenagers on a school night.
Not a single person noticed them on their way out, and it gives Luna this exciting kick of adrenaline, knowing they’re not supposed to be together tonight. The same thoughts seem to pass Matteo’s mind – his heart beats fast in his ribcage when she rests her head on his chest.
“Hopefully they won’t notice we’re gone,” she says, sighing in content at the kiss he presses on her hair.
“I doubt it. And if Gastón catches me, he’ll just make a pun and we’re good.”
“Hm… let me try. Matteo, launched a rocket to the moon again? Soon they’ll build you a statue at NASA,” Luna snickers in her best (or worst) Gastón-impression.
Matteo laughs and shakes his head. “Jeez, that was terrible.”
Still smirking, Luna snuggles closer to him, letting her eyes wander over the clear night sky above her. The stars twinkle brighter than she ever saw them in Buenos Aires, and she feels calmer and better than during a single second in that fancy hotel room.
For a while, they stay there in silent harmony, enjoying the view and the peace of this moment.
“Do you think everything will go as planned tomorrow?” she whispers into the darkness. It feels like a little eternity passed, perhaps an hour, perhaps only a few minutes.
“Well, we’re paying Miranda a shit ton of money, so everything better work out,” Matteo snickers before his tone turns more serious. “But you know what, little moon?”
She tilts her head, so their eyes meet in the night, only for him to bop her nose gently. “It’ll be perfect either way, because you’re with me.”
The night keeps her rosy cheeks a secret. “You know you can be so corny, chico fresa.”
“Maybe. But it’s true.”
“I love you, you sappy fresa.” A kiss on his cheeks. One more at his palm stroking her face. “I love you too.”
///
Letting her go in the hallway is harder than it should be. Matteo feels like a stubborn kid refusing to let go of his favorite teddy bear for more than a second, which is stupid. She’ll be by his side for the whole day tomorrow, and after that for the rest of their lives.
But this is the last time he sees her before the ceremony. Before he will marry her, and she will be his wife.
His gaze glides over her, takes her in, so he can remember this moment for all of eternity. Her brown curls fall open over her shoulder, messy from his hands – the same hands he has to keep to himself now, so they don’t open the loose tie of her robe. Admittedly, the white fabric hugs her body, flattering her curves, but it also hides her beautiful, beautiful night gown.
And her smile. By the stars, her smile.
Looking at the curve of her mouth, he feels like a shooting star in the night sky, bright and hot and burning only for her. When he’s a shooting star though, Luna is the sun in his universe, and not even the tired yawn slipping out manages to diminish the light she radiates.
“I love you,” Matteo whispers. Simple and soft, while it means so much more. It’s a goodnight, a promise for tomorrow, and for every breath he will take on this earth after that.
“I love you too,” she echoes. Her arms wrap around his waist when he pulls her in for a hug, pressing a light peck on her forehead. He loves her, he loves her so, so much. If every clock on the world froze, he’d be completely fine with staying in this moment.
However, Luna pulls away soon. “I should go to sleep.”
“Yeah.” And so Matteo watches her sneaking into the suite, where Nina’s relaxed breaths fill the air.
///
He finds his own hotel room as dark as the night. Darker even, because the curtains block any faded light the moon or the stars have to offer. After walking through the lit hallway, the contrast of the furniture seems to barely exist, and his vision needs a while to adapt to the shadows once again.
Matteo blinks. Once, twice.
He recognizes Gastón lying on the bed. He’s not moving, his breathing steady and calm. Since he’s not the kind of person to fall asleep within seconds, he must’ve gone to bed a while ago – which in turn leaves Matteo wondering why his best man decided not to search for him in the hour or two he easily was gone.
Unless they didn’t walk far enough and Gastón spotted them.
His heartbeat picks up its pace at the idea, and it takes him a few seconds to relax. Gastón isn’t subtle when it comes to Luna and him, never was, probably never will be. If he indeed saw them, he’d be up and down in the room, throwing puns around like confetti till the morning light, incapable of letting such an opportunity to roast his best friend go.
So, he didn’t possibly discover them, he’s safe asleep, and Matteo worried over a ghost in his mind.
Still, he tip-toes to his side of the bed. Every move he makes is followed by a glance in Gastón’s direction. When Matteo slips under the covers, he has no idea how hard his best friend desperately tries to repress a giggle.
///
“God, you two are so cute it’s seriously disgusting.”
Matteo isn’t even fully awake yet when Gastón’s voice rips the last pictures of his dreams apart. A groan hanging on his lips, he slowly opens his eyes.
Gastón stands by the door, staring at his left hand and shaking his head. The clock on the bedside table tells Matteo he could still nap for half an hour; unfortunately, however, his best friend has another plan.
“Here, Sleeping Beauty, this is for you.”
A card hits him on the chest before any words reach the tip of his tongue. It’s just big enough to fit completely into his palm, and he opens it with a frown on his face.
Good morning, chico fresa ♥
Before I will see you at the ceremony, I just wanted to say that I hope you slept well (or got at least a few hours of sleep…) and remind you that I love you the most in the world! I can’t wait for the rest of our lives to begin.
Always and forever, your chica delivery
PS: Please give Rory kisses from me, okay?
For a moment, he stares at this little note, not sure how he gets to deserve someone like Luna, or how he’ll get through those hours until she’s back by his side. “Where’d you find this?” he then turns to his best friend.
“It laid on the ground, she must’ve slipped it under the door. And, just so we’re clear, Nina and I weren’t half as bad as this on our wedding day. Your chica delivery will bring me some serious diabetes this weekend if she keeps that up.”
“You’re only jealous,” Matteo shoots back, pretending to miss the huge grin tugging on his best friend’s mouth.
Chuckling, he gets out of bed to throw a glance outside. A soft breeze swirls through the room when he opens the window, and the clear sky announces a perfect day to get married.
His wedding day.
Maybe this is the moment he should turn into a nervous mess, but weirdly enough, Matteo feels at peace. Years passed since he decided she was the person he intended to wait down the aisle for, and almost two years passed since she said she wanted to be his wife. What should make him impatient or insecure, fills him with strength. Their love passed every test time threw at them, they worked through every obstacle, every fight, and he knows they will continue to grow, to forgive and learn.
And that today will be perfect no matter what happens, because they’ll be together.
“So, how did your last night as a free man feel?”
Confused, Matteo breaks away from the view on the ocean. Gastón leans against the door as he barely contains a grin, raising his eyebrow in a dare.
Much to his dismay, he can imagine where this is going.
“Well,” he hesitantly begins, “I couldn’t fall asleep, so I took a walk around the property. To help with that, you know? It… it was nice. Looked at the moon a little bit.”
“I see,” Gastón nods. “As long as you didn’t set foot on it.” A classic Gastón pun, and Matteo wouldn’t pay it no second thought if his best friend didn’t wiggle his eyebrows so passionately they’re almost dancing on his forehead. But he does, while grinning like a fool, so he figures Gastón wasn’t half as asleep last night as he pretended to be.
And he’s not even sorry about it.
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