#mc x annabelle

[lizzybeth1986]

Hindsight is 20/20

Book: The Royal Romance (with references to Desire and Decorum)

Characters: Hana Lee & Peter Foredale (OC) (platonic), Hana Lee x Kiara Theron. References to Annabelle x MC from D&D.

Rating: PG

Word Count: 5000+ words

Summary: Hana and Kiara travel to England...after recieving a letter from Hana's former fiancè. Hana explores her journey as a bi woman in a walk down memory lane.

A/N1: This takes place three years after the events of TRR3. Hana and Kiara are married and have an 8-month old child at this point. Peter Foredale in this universe is both the "Lord Peter" Hana mentioned in TRR1 (who was engaged to her then broke the match) and the current head of Countess Florence Foredale's (my D&D MC) estate, Edgewater. Faceclaims here.

Tagging @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW and @choicespride for National Coming Out Day (Thursday).

"Ready, darling?"

Hana nods mutely. She is, after all, ready in all the ways Mother wanted her to be. Face serene, back straight, gown resplendent.

You look like a vision, the dressmaker gushed a while ago when she saw the results of her handiwork, I cannot wait to see the look on Viscount Foredale's face when he sees you!

Inside the satin gloves, her hands begin to tremble.

Viscount Peter Foredale. Gentleman. Up-and-coming barrister. A regular on the magazine spreads. The most eligible bachelor in all of England. Most of all...a wonderful, kind friend.

And after tonight...her future husband.

Her stomach tightens in a sick lurch.

--

"Doing okay?" Kiara asks her wife, running a thumb gently over their daughter's left cheek. Her other hand settles at the small of Hana's back, tracing soothing circles. The child shifts her attention from the pearl button she's been chewing, to coo at Mama Kiki's touch.

"Yeah... she's fine," Hana replies, her voice grainy with fatigue. "Put her in any sort of moving vehicle, and she's the world's happiest baby."

Kiara releases a laugh from pursed lips. There is nothing their 8-month-old loves more than being carried around; if you try to sit down, even for a minute, she will bash her hands against your chest and moan for you to get up and move around again.

Her eyes, however, never leave Hana's face - not the downturned lips, not the concealer-masked dark shadows under her eyes.

"I wasn't talking about Chaima," she says quietly.

Hana closes her eyes. It's easy enough to dissemble her nervousness when Chaima is in her arms, but not when Kiara is pinning her with that piercing, knowing gaze. That gaze has always been Hana's undoing.

"Look at you, asking me all the hard questions at 11 in the morning."

Kiara sighs, and fiddles with Chaima's curls. "Your arms must be aching, ma moitié. Let me have her just a bit. Rest now; we'll be reaching Edgewater in half an hour."

Hana sighs and nods. She doesn't want to let go of Chaima yet - it would be so much easier, pushing every other thought aside when this lovely golden child is in her arms...and she suspects that's part of the reason Kiara wants to take over. Don't put off things just because you think you can't handle them perfectly, habibti.

Kiara tucks Chaima's head gently on her shoulder, crooning an old lullaby in Darija. Nīnī yā moūmoū...Hattā tjī ‘andou moū...Sleep my baby...until your Mommy arrives...

Chaima thumps her little hands against Mama Kiki's breasts in approval. Sighing, Hana takes out the letter that brought her here.

Dear Hana,

I hope you, your wife and your little one are well. It's springtime here at Edgewater, we have plenty visitors in the afternoons, touring the gardens and the lake. Mabel has been renovating the house again - she's been insisting I leave the Regency-style furniture in the Regency era and go for something more contemporary (I'm right!).

Little Alphonsa thanks you for her copy of "A Smart Cookie". I'm sure she'll love the message in a few years...but for now all she can see are the cupcakes, the croissants and the macarons. I'm quite proud of the fact; in this one area she takes after her father.

Despite her nervousness, Hana cannot resist a small smile. It's been good to hear from Peter again, truly. He has always been a serious man, whose humour slips through in the most unexpected moments, and it shows in his letters. And from his wife's rare interjections in his letter, she can tell Mabel is the more open, outgoing one.

It had all begun a year ago. They hadn't spoken at all in the years since their engagement had fallen apart, first out of bitterness and then out of shame. Somewhere in those early days, he'd resented her for those dreams left unfulfilled, and somewhere she half-hated him for leaving her to deal with aftermath, alone.

But when she'd heard the news of Earl William Foredale's death from her father, it felt odd not to give him a call. They'd known each other long enough for Hana to understand how hard Peter would have been hit - this man he'd loved and worshipped and wanted to follow on the footsteps of - and whether or not her presence was welcome she knew she needed to at least try.

You reached out after years of silence and offered only compassion, he wrote to her months later, For that, I can never thank you enough.

She looks to the final lines in the letter. Just to see if there's something she's missing, something hidden between the lines. Perhaps, an courtesy-invitation to an old friend he would much rather not see again.

You mentioned in your last letter that you'd be in London two months from now. I would like to extend an informal invitation to visit the Edgewater estate, and our family, when you are here. It would be nice to catch up.

His letters to her have been nothing but sweet. Warm. Tentative in their attempts to speak about anything but that which caused them to part. And for that, she is grateful.

Still. That prickle of fear remains.

--

The foyer of the mansion is elegant, imposing. From the parlour nearby she can faintly hear the sounds of an excited child attempting to converse with Chaima, occasionally asking Kiara if she can touch her hand. My baby, my cupcake, we'll give you lots and LOTS of milk and carrot smash!

(I think you mean mash, Kiara replies, sounding amused and more than a little charmed by the girl already)

The Persian rug is soft beneath Hana's feet, and the oak panels shine in the patch of sunlight streaming in through the windows. But that is not what catches her attention.

A portrait on the side, of a young woman in an ocean-blue gown that bears the insignia of a unicorn and an eagle, in gold and silver. An elegant shawl around her shoulders. In her face is the pride of a woman who seems to have fought for her place here, and won. Next to her, a calm, brown-haired man, hands kept behind him. Straightening his back, trying to stand tall, trying to match the stature of the lady he just married...but happy to be there.

"That's Florence Foredale," a rich, deep voice speaks from behind, "Countess of Edgewater. 1817 to 1867." The woman who approaches her walks with grace and confidence, hips swaying slightly as she walks. On her wine-coloured lips, a small smile. "Good afternoon, Your Grace."

Hana laughs, relieved that Peter's wife seems every bit as happy to see her as she sounds in his letters. "I've heard about her. She's quite famous in Cordonia...especially in my wife's province." She gives the other woman a teasing grin. "And we're not in Cordonia anymore, Your Excellency."

"Mabel," she interjects. "Not very many people call me by my name nowadays, and I rather miss the sound of it."

Hana nods, smiling. "Mabel it is," she says.

"Hana," Mabel responds, her eyes brown and speculative, but softening when their gazes meet. "Peter's in the study. He said he'll be joining us in a couple of minutes."

Hana's spine clenches in a mixture of anticipation and dread. If Mabel notices an involuntary twitch from her guest, she chooses not to tell.

--

Hana closes her eyes. Lifts her chin. Tries not to sweat under the harsh camera lights. Involuntarily tightens her fist until the photographer tells her she looks a little too tense.

She can feel Peter's hands, holding her by the waist like she is glass and he's afraid he could break her. She can feel his breath near her ear, slow and measured. She can almost hear him swallow his nervousness in his throat, and wonders if he is just as terrified as she is.

She waits for the feel of his lips on hers. The one she's read about in books, secretly watched in her cousins' favourite films. The one that's supposed to release a million butterflies in your stomach, the one that softly parts your lips like they're made of silk, smooth and sensuous. Already she can feel him growing closer...closer...

"OWWW!!!"

Peter finds her half an hour later in the kitchen, calming herself down with a few small squares of chocolate. Guiltily, she notes the still-blood-red bruising on his bottom lip. She runs her fingers over the delicate filigree earring they chose for the occasion, still unsure why his frown is one of worry, not disgust.

"Are you alright?"

She sniffles, almost hating him for being so kind. "I should be asking you that."

Surprisingly, he offers her a lopsided smile, making his swollen lip even more prominent than before.

"Well, see. At least I landed somewhere in the vicinity of your face this time," Peter says, chuckling, "Give me a little more practice. I promise it will be your cheek next."

Fresh tears spring in Hana's eyes - this time tears of laughter.

--

"How's this, Auntie Hana!" little Alphonsa chirps, enthusiastically swinging a rattle to Chaima's face, "Am I doing it right? Does Chaima like it? Do you? Do youuuuuu?"

The last two sentences are addressed to the baby bundled in Hana's lap, applesauce running down her mouth. Chaima looks away from her food to gift her slightly older companion a gummy, two-toothed smile. Shaking the rattle is typically the job of whichever mother has her hands free, but Peter's little daughter insisted on keeping her tiny guest happy and submerged in toys for the two days that they were here.

"Yes, Alphie," Kiara blows her a flying kiss, "you're a natural!"

Hana gives Alphonsa an affectionate pinch on the cheek with her free hand. "Chaima lights up every time she sees you, darling, and so do we."

Right next to Hana, Peter grins. It's the first genuine smile she has seen from him since they started talking, and Hana is struck by how alike he and his daughter look right now.

"Alphonsa loves babies," he explains, "or any child, really, they just have to be younger than her. It sets her big-sister instincts abuzz."

Hana sighs, shaking her head and remembering her own days as the only child. Her chandelier earrings swing around her neck as she laughs.

It fascinates her, really, how at ease they are with each other when they're talking about their children. Ever since she came here, their conversations have been awkward, stilted, punctuated with pregnant pauses that harbour all the words they're too afraid to say to each other. They've been trying so hard to be normal around each other, Hana realizes, and failing.

But as parents, they've never been better friends.

"Wait a minute," Peter's voice sounds a little bemused, suddenly, "is that -"

It is only when Hana follows his line of sight that she realizes exactly which earrings she's worn for this visit.

In that moment, she wants to dig a hole beneath the parlour floor and bury herself there.

"Yes," she says, sheepishly, "I'm sorry, I didn't think..."

Peter raises his eyebrows, then turns to look at Kiara and Mabel. As they both watch their wives talk animatedly, lost in their own conversation together, Peter suddenly turns back to Hana with a mischievous grin.

"Don't be," he says, "I'm just grateful we both managed to get better kissing practice. Less bloodshed that way."

Hana stares at him, then breaks into peals of silent giggles. It isn't even that funny...not to anyone else anyway...but the dry tone and the memories make it hard for her to stop laughing.

God. She isn't sure what else may happen to cast a shadow on this golden time, this lovely reunion...but if there is one thing Hana has missed up her old friend...it's this.

--

It is on their second day at Edgewater, that Countess Mabel requests Hana accompany her for a short walk.

Edgewater Lake is a tranquil, limpid little paradise, tucked away behind the estate's beautiful gardens and sprawling grounds. The aroma of bay willow and birch trees is alluring and soothing all at once, and even the ducks seem to float languidly over the water.

Mabel smiles in satisfaction at the sponge cakes in her box, kept specially for the ducks. She offers some to Hana, and together they throw the crumbs in the lake, watching in rapt attention as the ducks practically spring into life, squabbling over who gets which piece.

"I don't think I've ever felt more at peace anywhere in this estate than here," Mabel says. "I found this place quite by accident on my first week here, when I was too intimidated with the rest of the house and the estate. It's been my safe space ever since."

"It's a beautiful place," Hana smiles, remembering Sôse - the lake near the Cordonian Royal Palace. Its clear waters, its free-spirited birds, that distinctive smell of yellow crocus flowers that now reminds her of home. Where she was once told she would become a Duchess. Where Kiara had proposed to her, seven months later.

"Many tales speak of Countess Florence having picnics here."

"With her husband?" Hana says with an arched eyebrow, knowing full well the true answer.

"No. Her...companion. Miss Annabelle Parsons of Hazelvale."

"Parsons? As in the artist who painted Woman's Waltz and Rose Gold Reminiscence?"

"Yes," Mabel says, a faint smile on her lips, "I'm certain you've heard all the stories."

"Not until recently," Hana whispered, remembering just how ignorant she felt, those first few months after she realized she loved women more often than she loved men. How much there was for her to learn. She remembered sitting up some nights after she came out in public, wondering just what to call herself. Am I lesbian? Am I bisexual? Why are most of the people I get attracted to, women? And how can I say I'm lesbian if I've still found myself gravitating towards at least one or two men?

It took Kiara to convince her that she needed to stop overthinking, that changing her mind about who she was didn't mean she was lying to herself. To feel good about learning at her own pace. When she first heard about Florence Foredale, Hana hadn't even known what a lavender marriage was. "I wasn't really out to anyone until I started living in Cordonia."

Mabel's smile grows wider. "Me too. I'm bisexual."

Hana sucks in a breath. "Really?"

"Yes."

"When did you realize?"

Mabel's smile is swift and regretful. "I had an inkling in my early twenties...but I was deep in denial until at least two years ago."

Hana nods, placing a hand on Mabel's shoulder. "That sounds a lot like my journey. I don't think I could even articulate who I thought I was before I left Shanghai."

"Before Peter and I met, I was a young girl brought up in a very strict Goan Catholic family," she says, "You never even uttered the words gay or bisexual around our house." She sighs, heavily, seeming to remember her first year at Edgewater. "I was so scared. The timing was all so wrong. What was I going to do, now that I knew? What was I going to tell Peter?"

Hana winces. She had the same fears the night of their engagement...only now she can give those questions a name. The memory of his face is blinding in its clarity: contorted in pain, his mouth uttering questions she wasn't sure she would ever have the answers for...Is this what you want? Am I what you want??

The way the scales fell from his eyes as she fought to stop her tears.

And then he had left. Left that secluded hallway, left her house, left China. News of the broken match came from her parents.

She had become "damaged goods" overnight. Without a single hair on her head being touched.

Silently, Mabel reaches out and takes Hana's hand, squeezing it in understanding and an attempt to comfort. Hana presses her eyes closed. She doesn't want this woman's pity. Not after this long, when it's too little too late.

Hana is afraid of the answer. But she still has to ask.

"How did Peter react?"

"Afraid."

If her eyes weren't closed already, she would have done so right now, cursing herself for coming here. All this time...and she'd really convinced herself he'd changed...but if he was treating his lawfully-wedded wife this way -

"Not of me," Mabel says softly, her hand moving to touch Hana's arm now, "Of himself. He never quite forgave himself for what you had to go through after he left."

Hana sucks in a horrified breath. "He knew?"

Even before she did?? And he never once tried to talk to her about it?

"Not right away. Not that you weren't straight." Mabel says, nervously fingering a sapphire bracelet on her wrist. "It took him years to make sense of it. When the announcement of your marriage to Kiara came out...and then that magazine spread you'd made on Trend for Pride in Cordonia...several things began falling into place."

"Before or after you came out to him?"

"After," Mabel whispers, "I won't pretend it was perfect. I won't say he understood everything all at once . But he did try...and he still keeps trying."

Hana lets out a sigh of relief. It feels good, knowing that the phantom she had built in her head of him isn't entirely accurate.

"More than once when he's spoken about you," Mabel begins again, slowly, "he's told me that he thinks neither of you had a clue you loved women back then. He said you didn't seem to have enough space to ask questions about who you were or what you wanted."

"He's right," Hana says, staring unseeingly at the ripples on the lake. "When I fell in love for the first time, in Cordonia, it was hell. I had no idea what I was feeling, I couldn't get over the fact that it was a woman...and she was lost to me before I could even hope to win her."

Mabel smiles. "...and then you met Kiara."

Hana chuckles, a glow trickling down and filling every inch of her being...as it always does when she remembers their first days after they confessed their love to each other. "And then I met Kiara."

The two women walk further, looking out towards the lake rather than at each other. Hana gropes around in her mind desparately for a change in subject.

"I feel like I've seen this place before, even though this is my first time personally visiting Edgewater."

"It's possible," Mabel concedes. "Several films have been shot here. I think my favourite one so far has been that one with Cassandra Leigh in it... what's its name...?"

"A Timeless Heart," Hana replies, wonderingly. Even as she answers she finds herself awash with memories. Memories she'd kept locked away since Peter had left...yet something about this particular one demands she revisit it today.

They're at the home theatre Father and Mother had installed, just before Peter's parents agreed to their match. Peter tries - not too subtly - to place his arm around her. Hana obediently folds her hands on her lap, and hopes he doesn't realize they built this room specifically for him.

"Did you know," he inches himself a little closer to her, whispering, "this scene was shot a few years ago at a lake close to our house."

Hana does not answer. Her eyes are glued to the screen, glued to the woman with dark hair and wine-red lips, the camera almost caressing her face. The hero, who Hana is suddenly grateful she cannot see, takes a freshly-bloomed rose from his pocket, gently brushing her cheek with it. She gifts him a slow smile in invitation. Yes.

He brings the rose to his lips, and Hana fully expects him to return it to his pocket, but he does not. Instead he brings it back to Cassandra Leigh's face again.

The petals caress Cassandra's cheek like velvet on silk, moving slowly, sensuously, down the line of her jaw. The length of her hair. Her rosebud mouth. It moves across the expanse of her face, and Cassandra responds to the flower as she would the touch of a lover.

As the flower moves languidly over her silken skin...and Cassandra's expression shifts between confusion and desire and pure bliss, Hana feels a softening deep within her. It's a sensation she has never quite felt before. It moves, again, again, almost as if the petals are kissing her - not the man holding them.

It's almost as if he doesn't exist. It's almost as if no one exists, just her. And this woman.

When the projector breaks down immediately after, and Peter gets up - grumbling about missing the best part of the film - she suddenly stares at her fiancé-to-be like she can barely recognize him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" It's Mabel. Hana shifts uneasily at her piercing gaze.

"I was just thinking..." Hana murmurs, still bemused by the revelation, "sometimes all the signs can be right in front of you - staring you in the face - and you won't even realize that that weird feeling at the pit of your stomach was desire."

Mabel nods slowly, her smile one of recognition.

"Yeah...I've had a couple of crushes I didn't even realize were crushes until later."

"It's funny," Hana replies with a small laugh, "this entire time I've been thinking my love for women suddenly burst into life when I came to Cordonia and met Esther...but it's been there all along. It just took me a while to see it. To give it a name."

"Well...you know what they always say," Mabel lays a soft hand on Hana's arm, "Hindsight is 20/20."

--

"And this...this is Earl Vincent the First," Peter says, pointing to the portrait of a man in 15th century finery on the wall of his study. "Quite the character. He's said to have spied on both sides during the Wars of the Roses."

Hana smiles. "I know of at least one Duchess back home who would love to hear that story."

It's their last day in Edgewater, and Peter has summoned her to the study. Hana wills away the still-slight prickle of fear that he will rake up the past. They've spoken often enough; the topic could have easily come up if he so chose.

"and this...this is my most famous ancestor - appointed Championess of the Realm by Queen Charlotte herself - Countess -"

"- Florence," Hana whispers. The young woman in the portrait is still dressed in her house colours of blue and gold, but holds a white rose to her bosom. Her gaze seems to focus on the artist, brimming with emotions she cannot yet express. Hana is confident that if she strained her eyes long enough, she would find Parsons scribbled at the bottom-right corner of the painting.

"Yes," he says, a faint smile on his lips, "I hear that back in Castelserraillan they've made a film on her life."

"She's quite popular there."

"For good reason, I imagine," Peter says, "Most of what used to be considered 'rumour' about her is...in effect...true."

Hana's eyes widen. The stories of Countess Florence Foredale marrying Mr Chambers but pledging her vows to Miss Parsons...that she gleefully officiated her "husband's" own union to another man on their wedding night...they are fairly common knowledge. Common knowledge that you'd never expect the heir to her estate to confirm.

"Among us descendants, no one knows for sure whether her son was part of the Foredale bloodline in the way the ton of those times would have wanted it," Peter stares at the Countess' portrait, hands clasped behind his back, every inch this woman's heir. "But she left behind a legacy. A legacy I am proud of. A legacy I long to live up to."

Remembering her conversation with Mabel at the lake, Hana says, "From what I've heard, you already are."

Peter's answering smile is one of sad knowing. "You've been talking to Mabel."

Flushing, Hana nods. "I have."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "She often gives me more credit than I deserve."

Hana laughs. "I think I'll let her be the judge of that."

She can see Peter's shoulders heave in a deep, deep sigh. He walks away from the hundreds of ancestral portraits, back to his table, running a fingernail across its wooden surface. His eyes are cast downwards, almost as if he can't bring himself to look at her.

Hana freezes, anticipating the difficult conversation ahead.

"Hana," he says, his voice suddenly rough, "I wanted to hate you so badly in the beginning."

Her stomach drops to her feet. "I know."

"I kept telling myself, she could have opened up to me, anytime. I stayed at her home three while weeks; she could have let me know then. I convinced myself that I was a match you carelessly chose to sleepwalk into, that you considered me another chore to get done."

Tears spring in Hana's eyes. "I couldn't understand what was happening to me back then. I still don't."

Peter moves behind the table, running his fingers through the knob of one of the drawers. His own eyes seem clouded, she notes with a pang.

"Mabel told me once...the process to figuring out who you are isn't always going to be linear. You're never going to figure it out all in one go," he finally raises his eyes to hers, "Was it like that for you?"

Hana swallows. "It's still like that for me. There are still parts of this journey that are yet to make sense."

"I could have stayed back. Talked to you. Tried to help somehow, though god knows whether I'd have messed it all up further. I could have tried." Peter's voice is flat, almost deceptively lacking emotion. Only his eyes betray his recrimination of himself. "Instead I ran off. Leaving you to face all the questions."

"You didn't!" Hana's own voice is suddenly hoarse, roused by his self-flagellation into passionate defense. "Don't think I didn't notice, Peter. Before you left, you and your family made use of every contact you could find...to kill most of the gossip surrounding our breakup. Neither I nor my family found out until two years later."

Peter shakes his head in disbelief. "But -"

"You didn't get all of it right. I know that. People still managed to spread the word, and I kept getting raked over the coals for it, even after I married Kiara." Hana takes a deep breath, exhausted from her tirade. "You hated me then, but you were still willing to do that for me. If you really want to know how worthy you are of Florence Foredale's lineage, you can start right there."

Peter sighs. "Let me apologize for not trying to understand, at least."

She lets out a watery laugh. "Apology accepted."

He searches her eyes for affirmation, and nods, opening the drawer he had been running his fingers through mere minutes ago.

"Come here," he mumbles finally, leafing through a sheaf of papers, "I have something I've been wanting to show you. Ever since we started writing each other."

It's sketches of the same woman - in various moods, various poses...the drawings themselves in various stages of completion. These aren't formal portraits, set up over stand and easel, its subjects motionless. No - these are poetry in motion, impatiently etched, capturing their subject in all her vibrancy and fierce spirit. Here she is, head thrown back in (at least in Hana's imagination) loud raucous laughter, the wind in her hair. And here, yet again, holding a little boy up in the air, his tiny hands reaching out to caress her face.

Here is one made by the Countess - herself an accomplished artist - of her wife standing tall and proud, an eagle perched on her right arm, her left hand caressing a unicorn.

Her heart almost stops when she sees the final painting - the artist Parsons herself, arms wound around the other woman's waist, her chin tucked against the Countess' shoulder. Their fingers seem woven together, so that you cannot quite tell which ones belong to whom. The Countess herself looks to their interwoven hands with a mixture of desire, and longing, and pain.

Hana runs a hand over the couple, her touch almost reverent. Her heart twists a little at the strength of their love, the immense injustice of their loss. "No one else has seen these before."

"No one," Peter agrees, "except my wife. We unearthed these just days after Father died. And a week before you made that call." He picks the last drawing up, his eyes brimming with affection. "When you rang us so soon after that, it felt like a sign. Like I had one more chance to make things right."

Hana takes his hand, pressing it between hers. "You and Mabel have done more than that. I'll never forget this visit. You both owe us a trip to Cordonia, now."

Cautiously, tentatively, Peter gives her a hug.

"I'd like you to have this last painting," he says gruffly, passing her the one she'd touched so reverently mere moments ago. "It just feels right, you having this. There's a lot of things my ancestor didn't have...that I'm glad you and my Mabel finally get the space to explore."

"And even then, we had to navigate so much to get there," Hana responds. "All we can do really is pass it forward. Make it easier for the next generation, and the next, and the next."

Peter gifts her a rueful smile. "I'll try my best to do just that, Hana. I promise you."

--

Little Alphonsa giggles and gives Kiara a drawing of herself and Chaima, as a keepsake. Already Kiara plans to have it framed and put up in her nursery.

Mabel has a gift of her own, too. Just before Hana leaves, she slips a small package into her bag, insisting she only open it when they're closer to the airport.

The car that takes them to the airport weaves through traffic slowly, steadily, in no particular rush. In an hour's time, Chaima is asleep on Kiara's lap, and Kiara herself has dozed off, mumbling gibberish in her dreams.

Quietly, Hana takes out the package, tears open the wrapper. A letter falls out.

H -

Since you like Cassandra Leigh so much, I thought you might like The Warmest Winter. You'll know why when you watch. Thank me later.

Love,

M.

It's a CD cover for a film. Two women, gazing into each other's eyes in reverent devotion, their gazes speaking a million promises that their lips can never tell. Hana presses the CD to her chest and whispers a prayer of gratitude.

A sleeping Kiara shifts her neck ever-so-slightly in Hana's direction, murmuring her name softly. Her hand still lies - soft. protective - over Chaima's stomach.

Hana keeps the CD back in the larger bag she's carrying - the one that holds those precious paintings.

Seems like our plans are set for next date night, wife. She brushes away a strand of hair from Kiara's forehead, kissing it. I just can't wait.

--

Notes:

Ma moitié - French for "my other half"

Nīnī yā moūmoū - Moroccan lullaby (link here)

A Timeless Heart and The Warmest Winter are both Cassandra Leigh films in the Choices universe.

Inspiration for the Timeless Heart scene in the movie-watching section, came from a rather sensuous (by our 50s Bollywood standards!) Hindi film scene in Mughal-e-Azam, where the hero caresses the heroine with a feather. See:

You can watch the full song here and the scene in question is from 2.10-3.00.

#hana lee #hanaleeappreciationweek #HLAW #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #HLAW Day 3 #HLAW Day 3: Pride Parade #lizzybeth1986 #content: fanfic #kiara theron #desire and decorum #annabelle parsons #hana lee x kiara theron #hana x kiara #annabelle parsons x mc #long post

[sapphoschoices]

For the OTP asks!

for Bridgette Lawrence and Annabelle Parsons 11. Do either try to hide their emotions if upset? Can the other still tell? & 59. What's a non-verbal way they say 'I love you'?

for Pheonix Fairbourne and Shreya Mistry 60. Who pulls the other close when they're sleeping? & 23. Who's more likely to convince the other to stay in bed come morning?

Bridgette and Annabelle

11. Bridgette notoriously hides her emotions, but Annabelle even more notoriously can read her like a damn billboard. Bridgette often gets very burnt out after guests are over but does a genuinely good job of covering it up, though even the best actor ever couldn't hide Bridgette's displeasure from Annabelle.

59. Bridgette and Annabelle have a lot of non-verbal ways to say 'I love you' due to the nature of their environment. Their favourite is through acts of service for each other in public so they can showcase how much they care about each other, but in private, they often kiss each others shoulders as a way to non verbally say they love each other.

Phoenix and Shreya

60. Phoenix is a total cuddler when she's sleeping, generally Shreya will be totally unable to move when she wakes up because Phoenix is wrapped so tightly around her, making it a real struggle for her to get out of bed at all, though Phoenix is luckily a heavy sleeper so Shreya doesn't worry to much about the extents she has to go to.

23. I imagine Shreya is quite the early riser, whereas Phoenix is the total opposite. Normally Phoenix can't even wake up in time to keep Shreya in bed, but on the rare occasion she does, Phoenix is adamant. Though Phoenix will almost always cave to Shreya sweet-talking her back to sleep.

OTP Ask Game

#mc: bridgette lawrence #mc: phoenix fairbourne #bridgette x annabelle #phoenix x shreya #ask game

[lorirwritesfanfic]

Stories from Meant To Be AU that don't follow the timeline (because my muse just can't wait 🤭)

Friendship fics

Bonding Experiences | Annabelle Parsons, Briar Daly, MC (Daphne)

Not Ready | Yusuf Konevi, F!OC (Veronica Dantas), Prince Hamid

Hamid x Daphne

Art Project

Movie Date

Summer Tastes

When It’s Meant To Be 💋

Five More Minutes: Lazy Couple, Terrible Friends

OTP Texts - I Want A Baby Challenge  

Impromptu Dance: A Special Night (ft. Bartholomew x Yusuf)

Training For The Future

A Nice View

Long Distance Love: An Unusual Date 

A Wish For Christmas (And All The Other Days)

A Good Chef And His Moody Sous-chef  

Personal Favourite: Kiss It Better

Personal Favourite: Favourite Part(s)

Bad Parenting

Niceness Test  ✨new✨

Annabelle x Veronica

Memories And Dirty Daydreams 💋

A Little Nudge (ft. Hamid x Daphne)

The Letter (ft. Hamid x Daphne)

Loving Her For Who She Is

OTP Texts - I Want A Baby Challenge

Love Language

Worthy Of Love

Bartholomew x Yusuf

A Love Like A Love Song

Ernest x Alisha

Best Part Of The Night 

Try 💋

Warming Up 💋

#choices fanfic #desire and decorum modern au #desire and decorum fanfic #desire & decorum modern day au #hamid x mc #annabelle x oc #sinclaire x oc #konevi x chambers #lorirwritesfanfic #lorircreates #meant to be au

[missameliep]

What if this fanfic was a book? - The Cursed Heiress (Desire and Decorum AU)

The Cursed Heiress by @noesapphic is a Desire and Decorum AU! with a powerful MC named Joanna Mills (though she is known for other names that are revealed in the series as more and more of her secrets come to light), mythological creatures, supernatural elements and crossovers with Choices' books such as Bloodbound and Nightbound. In this series, we follow Joanna while she learns the secrets that will change her entire existence, meet the five people whose destinies are entwined with hers and prepare herself not only for the role of the Earl of Edgewater's heiress but in the upcoming war that can destroy humanity.

If this series was turned into a book, I thought of a few ideas for covers inspired by Joanna's magic powers and the color red.

But I can already envision a special edition with hardcover and The Damned Daughter too.

You can read the A/N and have access to all the chapters of the main series and the series The Damned Daughter, info about the MC and lore, one shots etc

I hope you like it, Noe! ☺️

Tagging a few of you who might like seeing this: @storyofmychoices @princess-geek @lorirwritesfanfic @lilyoffandoms

#what if this fanfic was a book? #noesapphic #desire and decorum #choices fanfic #desire and decorum au #desire and decorum supernatural au #oc: joanna mills #annabelle parsons #ernest sinclaire #luke harper #mr. sinclaire #miss parsons x mc #mr. sinclaire x mc #prince hamid #prince hamid x mc #mr. harper x mc

[peonyblossom]

Meet My MC - Ophelia Parsons Capulet

Book: Desire & Decorum Name: Ophelia Parsons Capulet Pronouns: she/her Sexuality: Sapphic Birthday: November 2, 1795 Zodiac: Scorpio Height: 5’6” Love Interest: Annabelle Parsons

Just the basics for now, but might add more at some point! Feel free to send any asks about her :-)

#meet my mc #ophelia capulet #desire & decorum #Annabelle parsons #Annabelle Parsons x ophelia capulet #Spotify

[lovelyhxsie]

Choices: Desire and Decorum

You guys...I've fallen in the rabbit hole of becoming entranced with the mobile game, choices. It's gotten to the point that I am officially a VIP subscription member. I have no shame to admit such a thing though that is NOT what I am here to discuss.

Can we take a moment to appreciate the lovely series known as Desire and Decorum? This series is written to pure perfection and I can't keep myself from thinking how good this would be as a television series. Especially if they went with Miss (Annabelle) Parsons storyline. The way they execute their relationship in a time period were same-sex relationships were improper and carried severe consequences if people were to know the truth.

Anyway, that is all I share as I haven't finished book 2 just yet. I am team Annabelle all the way. Fictional characters must stop making my heart yearn for someone I can't have. Sob sob.

Update: This will contain slight spoilers if you have not read any of Desire and Decorum.

You mean to tell me that Annabelle Parsons has the belief that never marrying me is worst than her fate of possible death? MC has gained the pure term of perfection amongst a human being. I am in love.

Update #2: spoiler.

Annabelle Parsons being jealous gives me a form of serotonin.

#choices game #pb choices #desire and decorum #miss parsons #mc x miss parsons #annabelle parsons

[qbdatabase]

Do you guys have any more intersex rep books? There's only like 5 on here and it's hard to find anything ;w;

Main Characters:

Pantomime by L. R. Lam - bisexual intersex genderfluid MC

That Inevitable Victorian Thing by E. K. Johnston - poc queer female x bisexual intersex female x male

None of the Above by I. W. Gregorio - intersex female

Golden Boy by Abigail Tartellin - intersex male

Annabel by Kathleen Winter - trans-femme intersex male

Middlesex by Jeffery Eugenides - Greek-American intersex transgender male

Cattywampus by Ash Van Otterloo - intersex female

Double Exposure by Bridget Birdsail - intersex female

Across the Green Grass Fields by Seanan McGuire - intersex female

Miss Jane by Brad Watson - intersex female MC born with vaginal agenesis that causes incontinence and prevents penetrative sex

An Ordinary Wonder by Buki Papillon - Nigerian intersex female MC forced to live as a boy

Sorrowland by Rivers Solomon - black albino bisexual intersex MC who is partially blind and has chronic pain

The Desert Prince by Peter V. Brett - intersex female questioning her gender identity

Lord of the Last Heartbeat by Mary Peterson - non-binary intersex MC (he/him)

Real Easy by Marie Rutkoski - intersex female

Just Ash by Sol Santana - intersex male

Trans Liberty Riot Brigade by L. M. Pierce - queer intersex female with a fantasy-drug addiction

Side Characters / World Building:

Temper by Nicky Drayden - intersex SCs in a world where everyone is born with a twin, and sometimes the genitalia gets "mixed" between them

2313 by Kim Stanley Robinson - intersex female MC due to future scientific advancements in a society without gender norms, where intersex / nonbinary seems to be the default

The Pursued and the Pursuing by A. J. Odasso - intersex female prominent SC (adopted daughter of main mlm couple)

Manywhere: Stories by Morgan Thomas - intersex prominent SC, but gender identity unknown

full notes on representation and publishing info at qbdatabase.com

#intersex #intersex rep #lgbtqia #queer fiction #queer books #anon #ask #answered

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC F/AotW - April 7 - 14, 2024

✒️ = Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨 = Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+ 🏳️‍🌈 = LGBTQIA

BLADES OF LIGHT AND SHADOW

Back on Vacation 🎨| Imtura Tal Kaelen, Nia Ellarious, Valax, MC - @myautumnrose

BLOODBOUND

Five of Cups ✒️| Gaius Augustine - @thosehallowedhalls

The Sock Giveaway ✒️| Adrian Raines x F!MC - @thosehallowedhalls

CRIMES OF PASSION

A Begining ✒️| Ruby Webster, F!MC - @thosehallowedhalls

Love Languages ✒️| m!Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @inlocusmads

Movement ✒️ | m!Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @thosehallowedhalls

Second Language (Series) ✒️| m!Trystan Thorne - @inlocusmads Chapter 1: "What's that song you sing for the dead?"

DESIRE & DECORUM

Annabelle Parsons Fanart 🎨by @artbyalz

Ernest Sinclaire Fanart 🎨by @storyofmychoices

THE ELEMENTALISTS

Cloud Watching ✒️| Beckett Harrington x F!MC - @storyofmychoices

THE FRESHMAN SERIES

The Press Secretary (Series) ✒️| Chris Powell x F!MC - @eadanga Chapter 12

HIGH SCHOOL STORY

Aiden Zhou x MC Fanart 🎨🏳️‍🌈 art by @callmebeem (C: @cadybear420)

IT LIVES SERIES

Lincoln Aquino x MC Fanart 🎨🏳️‍🌈 by @weetlebeetle (C: @storyofmychoices for @abelflints)

Noah Marshall x MC Fanart 🎨🏳️‍🌈by @payroo

LAWS OF ATTRACTION

Uncharacteristic ✒️| Gabe Ricci x F!MC - @thosehallowedhalls

MULTIPLE STORIES

Bloodbound/Nightbound

Disembodied 7/8 ✒️| Adrian Raines x MC, Nik Ryder x MC - @mynotsohealthyobsession

TRR / RoE / TNA / CoP

Isle of Misfits ✒️Ⓜ️| Multiple Characters - @tessa-liam Chapter 9: Inconvenient Truths

NIGHTBOUND

Bound by Fate (Series) ✒️| Nik Ryder x F!MC - @ladylamrian Chapter 3: The Unknown

OPEN HEART

Complete Open Heart List - Week ending April 13th

THE PRINCESS SWAP

Prince Clarke x MC Fanart 🎨 by @bri1234

RED CARPET DIARIES

Comfort ✒️| Thomas Hunt x F!OC - @thosehallowedhalls for @storyofmychoices

THE ROYAL ROMANCE

Behind Closed Doors (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🏳️‍🌈| Maxwell Beaumont x MC, Liam Rys x Maxwell Beaumont - @angelasscribbles Chapter 1: The Invitation

A Bird in Hand ✒️| Liam Rys x MC - @angelasscribbles

Catch & Release ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys x MC, Drake Walker x MC - @dcbbw

Dance Under the Rainbow 🎨🏳️‍🌈 | Hana Lee x MC - @uselessgay10101

#choices fanfic #choices fanart #blades of light and shadow #bloodbound #crimes of passion #desire & decorum #the elementalists #the freshman series #high school story #it lives series #laws of attraction #nightbound #open heart #the princess swap #red carpet diaries #the royal romance #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #playchoices fanart #choices stories you play #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #cfwc art of the week

[sapphoschoices]

Guys I was so close to buying a sapphic regency era book today, really MC x miss parsons stuff and now I'm just so disappointed in myself that I didn't buy it 😭😭😭

#playchoices #choices stories you play #choices desire and decorum #desire and decorum #annabelle parsons #annabelle parsons x mc #mc x annabelle parsons

[delphi-dreamin]

The Butcher

Lonnie Barker has met hundreds if not thousands of people in his lifetime, but this little chiclet is somethin' else.

A/N: Y'all...This all started with me giving the butcher in S3 an accent in my head. Then suddenly he had a family and owned a business and was incredibly invested in my MC's relationships because she's too sweet for all of those boys.

Characters: Lonnie Barker, Priscilla Barker, Annabelle Barker (mentioned), MC!Delphi, demon brothers (all but Levi mentioned), Solomon, Simeon, Luke (platonic only)

Relationships (implied): Lucifer x Delphi, Asmo x Delphi, Simeon x Delphi

Word count: 1.7k

Lonnie Barker has been working the butcher's stall at the market for nearly twenty years now. He took over for his daddy, who took it over from his daddy before him. Four generations of Barkers, now, have used these very machines to cut meat, case sausages, grind burger, and whatever else needs done, and Lonnie thought that he'd seen it all. But then those boys had come to town.

If he's figuring right, there's seven of ‘em total. And they seem to somehow all be related, though for the life of him, Lonnie can't figure out how. None of ‘em look alike. And most of ‘em act like they hate each other. They’re excellent customers, though.

The first time any of ‘em come to the shop, they nearly buy him out. He doesn’t pay ‘em much mind after that. They come in about once a day to pick up something or other, always polite but usually bickering about something. It only takes a few days for him to gather that they’re all living together and that they’re foreign. And after about a week, he thinks he has ‘em just about figured out.

Then she shows up.

Compared to the boys she’s a tiny little thing, maybe only as tall as Annabelle, with shoulder-length pink curls and bright violet eyes that laugh when they talk to her. The first one she comes in with calls her Delphi. He’s the big one, the one everyone calls “Beel.” Lonnie assumes they’re dating, and when Beel says they’re celebrating their first night living together, well that solves that. The two buy five whole chickens from him and are on their way to the vegetable stalls next.

The next time Lonnie sees Delphi, she’s with yet another man, one that he’s sure he’s never seen before. He has white hair and gray eyes and wears a mess of silver necklaces that Lonnie can’t believe aren’t a tangled mess. He still dwarfs the poor girl, but she glares up at this one with an annoyed look, her arms crossed and her foot tapping as he talks. Lonnie hears her call this one Solomon, and judging by the way she talks to him, she doesn’t like him very much. They don’t visit the butcher that day, but it’s just as well. Lonnie doesn’t want to get in the middle of that.

Delphi becomes one of his most regular customers over the next few weeks. She’s almost always with someone different, but there’s a few that Lonnie sees her with regularly. There’s the two with eyes that almost match hers, the big one, Beel, and the smaller one that Prissy calls “Mr. Emo.” She’s always laughing and joking with those two: taking things out of Beel’s hands before they end up in his mouth, ruffling the other one’s hair and teasing him. Lonnie enjoys seeing them together because she looks like she’s having so much fun.

Then there’s the little one with the curly hair. He thinks Delphi introduced him as Asmo one time. Those two are always joined at the hip, walking arm in arm or hand in hand. They whisper to each other, pointing things out and grinning like anything. Her eyes twinkle and her cheeks are red when she’s with that one. Lonnie isn’t sure how to feel about it.

The other one she’s with regularly is tall with black hair that’s graying at the ends and red eyes. He’s at least a foot taller than Delphi, if not more, and the way he moves reminds Lonnie of the vampires in those old movies that Prissy loves so much. But he looks at that little chiclet like she hung the moon and the stars, and she looks at him the same way. Lonnie recognizes it as the was he and Prissy look at each other and it makes his heart ache. He has to look away one day, when he sees the man bend to pull her into a kiss, because it’s too intimate a moment for Lonnie to intrude on.

🐔

It’s a Wednesday when Delphi comes in with the gray-eyed man, Solomon he thinks, asking after chicken bones of all things.

“Sure, I’ve got some,” Lonnie replies, scratching his head in confusion. “But I don’t think I have near enough for what you’re wantin’, Miss Delphi.”

Delphi smiles at him, her violet eyes sparkling. “That’s okay, Lonnie! I’ll take whatever you’ve got. And if you don’t mind saving them for me from now on, I’d really appreciate it.”

The butcher smiles warmly at his favorite customer, little enigma that she is. “You bet, Miss Delphi.”

“Thanks, Lonnie,” she replies with a giggle. “Hey, how are Prissy and Anna doing?”

“They’re doing alright,” Lonnie sighs, slumping.

Delphi frowns at him, her violet eyes piercing. “That doesn’t sound like they’re doing alright.”

Lonnie shrugs his massive shoulders. “Anna’s got the flu and Prissy’s been home with her the past few days. They’re both goin’ a little stir crazy. And Anna’s upset that she probably won’t be able to go to the market this weekend.”

The smile Delphi gives him now is pitying. She digs around in one of her shopping bags and pulls out two jars of some kind of tea, it looks like. Lonnie isn’t sure what exactly they are. She takes out a small canvas sachet and a gold spoon, too, then starts scooping the stuff into the sachet. Three spoonfuls of each. After she’s done, she ties it closed and hands it to him with a smile.

“Have her drink at least half a cup of this twice a day. A whole cup would be better, but it can be bitter, so I understand if she can’t get it all down. You can sweeten it with some of Prissy’s honey if you need. But a few days of drinking this tea and she should feel right as rain by the farmer’s market.”

“Well thank ya, Miss Delphi,” the butcher responds, his eyebrows shooting up. “I’ll give this to Prissy to give to Anna. Will we see you at the farmer’s market this weekend?”

“God willin’ and the creek don’t rise,” she replies with a grin and a wink. Delphi packs her chicken bones away into one of her shopping bags and turns to go. Over her shoulder, she calls, “You let me know if that tea doesn’t help by Friday afternoon! I’ll come over and see to Anna myself!”

“Okay, Miss Delphi! Y’all have a good day!” He waves as the two leave his shop, the man whispering something to Delphi while she just rolls her eyes.

Lonnie does as he promised, gives the tea to Prissy to give to Anna. By the next morning, Anna’s fever’d broke. And by Friday, she was well enough to visit the market with Prissy to do the shopping. That day, it isn’t any of the regulars Lonnie sees Delphi with, it’s two new ones. One is dark-skinned with turquoise eyes and a gentle smile, and the other is a blond child only a sliver shorter than Delphi herself. She’s laughing and smiling as the child drags her around by the hand, pointing out anything and everything and the man follows behind them with his groceries. The three almost seem like a little family to Lonnie.

Anna tells him later than night that those two are Luke and Simeon. They apparently own a café in town with a reputation for magic coffee. Lonnie isn’t surprised. Magic sounds about right for anybody in Delphi’s company.

They don’t see her at the farmer’s market that weekend, which disappoints Anna to no end. But Lonnie and Prissy reassure her that Delphi will come back to see her soon, and she seems satisfied with that.

🐮

The next time Lonnie sees her, Delphi is with the entire group of seven, and he isn’t exactly sure how to react. He clears his throat as they all squeeze into the shop, “So, y’all decided to come in one big group today?”

Beel, the big hungry one, replies by ordering a meat pie. Lonnie just shakes his head and chuckles, “I’ll have that ready for ya in a jiffy. Now, I may have asked y’all this before, but…are y’all friends…? Or family…?”

It isn’t any of his business. He knows it isn’t any of his business. But Lonnie’s been wondering since the boys showed up in town, and especially since Delphi started coming along to the market with ‘em. He can see the knowing look in her eyes as she looks up at the tall, black-haired one with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

In his smooth voice, he replies, “Aside from Delphi here, we’re all brothers. Though they can be a bit of an embarrassment at times.”

The one with bright blond hair and green eyes scoffs, “And you aren’t?”

Lonnie nods, “Got it. So then is Miss Delphi your friend, or…?”

The curly-haired one, Asmo, smiles and wraps his arms around the girl’s shoulders, “Well aren’t you Mister Nosy! We’re a couple, of course! Delphi is the love of my life!”

The one with golden skin and white hair rolls his eyes. “Pff, what’re you talkin’ about? Delphi is my servant.”

Mr. Emo yawns, “I thought the story was that we brought Delphi on as a babysitter…”

Delphi only smiles, shaking her head. If Lonnie didn’t know any better, he’d think this was something she heard daily. She looks at him with a soft smile and says simply, “We’re family.”

With a chuckle, the tall one rests a hand on her shoulder and agrees, “Yes, that much is true.”

Lonnie doesn’t miss her resting her cheek on his hand.

Beel nods along, adding, “The seven of us are brothers, and Delphi here is really special to us.”

Oh.

“Well, I’m glad this little chiclet has y’all to look after her,” he says after beat, taking off his gloves to scratch at the back of his neck.

“These guys? Look after me?” Delphi laughs as she pays for the meat pie Beel is happily digging into. “They’d either kill each other or starve without me around. But thanks, Lonnie. I’ll see y’all at the farmer’s market this weekend?”

“We’ll be there.”

“Good,” she replies with a grin. “Give Prissy and Anna my love!”

They’re gone before Lonnie can process what happened.

🐷

That night, as Lonnie is laying in bed, he turns to face his wife and frowns. “I think Delphi’s sleeping with all of them boys.”

He can practically hear her eyes rolling as Prissy replies, “Hell, Lonnie, you just now figurin’ that out? Anna coulda told you that two weeks ago.”

Taglist: @sassykattery @leavesandflowers @sparkbeast20 @kyungjoon-do

Like my work? Fill out my form to be tagged when I post!

#obey me #mc!delphi #obey me oc #oc: lonnie #i don't know how to tag this #lol

[moodmusicmonday]

🎵Playlist for 1/2 Click Here!🎵

It's a short one this week, but that's okay! We're all just getting back into the swing of things, and easing into a post-holiday, 2023 life.

Thank you to our writers for submitting this week! All the info is located below the cut.

And thank you to everyone who follows, likes, and shares our posts week in and week out. We wouldn't be here without all of your love and support. 🥰

@peonyblossom

"History Hates Lovers" - Oublaire; History Hates Lovers (RCD/DD Crossover; Thomas Hunt x f!MC, Annabelle Parsons x f!MC)

@tessa-liam

"Bad Habits" - Ed Sheeran; Smoke & Mirrors Chapter 1: Old Habits Die Hard (TRF AU; Liam x MC)

🎵🎵🎵🎵

Tags in the Comments: if you would like to be added/removed please let us know; if you have been overlooked, please be gracious and just let us know! We love you guys! Thank you for your support!

#mood music monday #moodmusicmonday #spotify #choices mmm #music inspo #fanfic inspo #fanfic music inspo #choices trr #choices rcd #choices dd

[peonyblossom]

Hey y'all! I know I only have a small taglist, but I'm doing a little clean up since I took a little unannounced hiatus a little bit ago and have also started writing for more stories/ships and what not.

Since I've started writing for a lot of different ships, I don't really want to have a list for each and every ship because I think that might be too much for me to keep track of. Instead I will just have lists for each story, which will include:

Open Heart

Ethan Ramsey x m!MC (Sydney Valentine), Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Sadie Oakley), Bryce Lahela x m!MC (Sydney Valentine), Ethan Ramsey x Tobias Carrick, and various platonic fics

Red Carpet Diaries/Hollywood U

Thomas Hunt x f!MC (Jackie Winters)

Crimes of Passion

m!asian!Trystan x nb!MC (Jenna Rose) and Marguerite x f!OC (possibly)

Hot Couture

Marco di Vincenzo x f!MC (Analise Moore)

America's Most Eligible

Carson Stewart x f!MC

Desire & Decorum

Annabelle Parsons x f!MC (Ophelia Capulet)

Choices Perma

All of the above!

Let me know if you'd like to be on one or more of these lists please! If you are currently on one of my lists I'll keep you on for the story you are currently on for, so just let me know (comment, reply, dm) if you'd like to be moved to a different list, added to another list, or removed entirely - no hard feelings!

Tagging my current lists below

Ethan x Sadie: @rookiemartin Open Heart: @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @potionsprefect Perma: @gutsfics @lilyoffandoms

#taglist clean up

[megatraven]

If you could have a poly/ot3 route with any two LIs (so the MC dates both of them and they date each other) which ones would you pick? 😁

i think i'd have to go with Alex x MC x Medusa for my top OT3 that i'd want! i already think about it a lot, it would just be so fantastic <333

but i'd also really REALLY enjoy:

Abel x MMC x Lucas Lucien x MC x Roman Vivienne x MC x Zoe Andi x MC x Lorelei Andi x MC x Juliette Antonio x MC x Diego (it would be so fucking funny) Alain x MC x Helena (but i dont want helena and alain dating each other tho) Mackenzie x MC x Annabelle who i know technically isn't an LI but 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 Aurora x Astoria MC x Medusa (this is a guilty pleasure ship tbh) Arin x FMC x Nora Jessa x Alien MC x Nav (but again i dont want Jessa and Nav dating each other) JD x MC x Razi (again. hilarious potential.) Jett x MC x Remy Renzei x MC x Zeke Cal x MC x Darius (AGAIN. WOULD BE VERY FUNNY.) Alex x MC x Hydra Alex x MC x Astraeus

im gonna stop before i just list every possible ot3 combo one could imagine :^) thanks for asking though, i really like indulging in my ot3s :)

#lovestruck voltage #lovestruck

[sugarbubbleslove]

Staring into Flames (Garreth x Fem!OC)

Title: Staring into the Flames

Characters: Annabelle Winters, Garreth Weasley

Pairings: Pre-Annabelle/Garreth,

Rating: Teen

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone/anything from the forum Hogwarts Legacy. WB owns Hogwarts Legacy and its characters. There is no copyright infringement intended. I do not make any profit/money or take any credit.

Summary: Her mind was whirling around, and she found her thoughts kept going back to one person.

Garreth Weasley.

Timeline: Hogwarts Legacy, AU for Gryffindor MC, Fifth Year

Warning: Gryffindor MC, Seer MC, angst, orphan background, child abuse (nothing explicit), flirting, Fifth Year

Author's Notes: Annabelle isn't the main MC (No ancient magic). She's been at Hogwarts since her third year. This will run alongside my other stories that I am working on, but it is not a necessity to read them (once they are up)

This is the backbone for a longer fic I'm working on for Annabelle/Garreth.

Series: You Make Loving Fun

(And this was meant to be a sweet and fluffy and cheerful one-shot…it didn't stay that way)

AO3 Link

Staring into the Flames

Annabelle Winters found herself staring up at the canopy of her bed, surrounded in red and gold and sighed deeply.

A clock chimed softly in the room, telling her time. Near midnight and she still wasn't sleeping.

Her mind was whirling around, and she found her thoughts kept going back to one person.

Garreth Weasley.

She kept falling back into her memories of her first day at Hogwarts. Sitting on the stool with the hat on her head, the whispers that filled her mind as it sorted through her memories, lingering on certain ones, asking her questions, the butterflies in her stomach then it shouted out her house where she was promised that she would find a new family, a new home.

A home away from hell.

Garreth made a space for her when the hat called out Gryffindor, alerting her to the cheers the table made for her. He shot a brilliant smile as she sat down next to him, flushing under everyone's curious looks.

Garreth had taken it upon himself to show her around Hogwarts on her first day. Cheerful and warm and welcoming and it had overwhelmed her.

She wasn't used to people treating her kindly, being warm and friendly. Treating her like she was a friend, instead of a burden that they didn't want to deal with.

Garreth had shown her Hogwarts. Showed her all the hidden places if she ever wanted to escape. The library and being chased out by Madam Scribner when he had laughed a little too loudly.

The Lake, which had caught her breath as she stared out at it. She barely remembered what it was like the night before, too caught up on how breathtaking Hogwarts had looked that seeing the sun sparkle upon the waves was mesmerizing.

She later snuck out that night too, just to see how it looked with the moonlight and she found that she couldn't decide what scene she liked better.

She had turned to look at Garreth only to find him staring at her with a smile she didn't recognise before he tugged on her wrist, telling her that there were more places to see.

Annabelle laughed as she followed him.

He was so kind. Always going out of his way to help people, to cheer them up whenever they were down. He would offer an ear to those who wanted to talk and help them take their mind off whatever it was for a short time.

Maybe it was because he was more confident this year. Summer had been good for him. He had always been taller than her – or was it that she was shorter than the others – but he seemed to have gotten a bit of a growth spurt and filled out more in the chest and shoulders.

(She had heard other girls talking about it earlier on, giggling and whispering to each other as they compared the boys. She was pretty sure she heard Sebastian mentioned at one point before he was dismissed as he barely saw the girls flirting with him…although she is pretty sure that she saw that the new fifth-year Ravenclaw might have gotten his attention…not that she was noticing these things).

He seemed to have a confident step to his walk, in the way he talked. He held himself differently, his smile more charming, the green in his eyes sparkling as he spoke. His laughter seems to fill the room, warming her.

Or maybe it's because Cressida Blume, her best friend, had been complaining about him non-stop since they came back to Hogwarts. Maybe that's what it was. Cressida had been complaining about Garreth was annoying her, acting cocky, and distracting everyone by blowing up his potions.

Briefly, she had entertained the idea of Cressida having a crush on Garreth but quickly lost that train of thought when she had to physically stop Cressida from trying to stab Garreth with her fork after the boy had knocked over a goblet of water, spilling it over Cressida's notes, sending the girl into a vicious rant as Garreth just gaped at her.

She knew then that Cressida did indeed not harbour a crush on Garreth Weasley but the urge to smack him silly into the Black Lake.

She knew that Garreth could rub people up the wrong way, especially with his potions – experiments, really – but she found that she liked the way he worked on his potions or whenever he got a new idea.

His eyes would light up, his hands gesturing, and he would rattle off a list of ingredients that he would be using in his potion, even asking her if she would be able to help him get them.

Oh…maybe it was the way his green eyes would be looking at her, pleading with a hopeful expression. The way his lips would curl up into that smile that made her want to do anything for him.

(And anything she did, she lost count of the times she procured some ingredients for his latest experiments).

Or maybe it was the late-night talks they would have when they couldn't sleep, bringing them to a world of their own, where no one else existed, where they were the centre of each other's world just for a short time.

Or maybe she was just being stupid.

Annabelle rolled her eyes with a soft groan and pushed the comforter off as she sat up, grabbing her robe and slipping it over her nightgown, slipping her feet into her slippers and she slowly made her way out of her room, careful not to wake up her roommates.

Especially Cressida, who was currently mumbling spells under her breath. A fond smile came to Annabelle's lips as she paused to watch her best friend then she shook her head. She was just glad that Cressida's spells didn't work in her sleep, having removed the wand far away from the other girl.

She had learned her lesson about letting Cressida keep her wand close by the hard way.

Annabelle slowly made her way down the stairs, her hand gliding over the bannister when an unfamiliar scent filled her senses, a sweet scent…flowers and honey.

Then the visions came, too fast, too brief, too much just as her hand tightened on the bannister as her knees weakened and she rested against the wall, breathing heavily.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and let the emotions bleed out from her, centring herself before she exhaled slowly, a tear slipping free.

The visions featured the new girl.

Dark blue Ravens fluttered in the air above her. White and light blue magic swirled protectively around her.

Her dark blue eyes filled with tears. Her smile…so blinding, yet so broken.

And cupped in her hands was a heart, shattered and full of pain.

Annabelle wanted to scream, she wanted to rage, she wanted to slide down the wall and cry, to hide away from the world and the pain it wanted to inflict on everyone in its wake.

She hated her visions with a passion. So much hurt and fear and anger came because of them. She remembered the stones that would be thrown in her direction, the names she would be called because of what she said.

The terror whenever she would get one and would be forced to decide what she needed to do. Tell or keep her mouth shut.

The reactions when she did tell someone.

Witch. They called her. She should be burned at the stake. They threatened her.

Until it happened and fear would be shown in her direction. The terror was almost palpable and they'd keep their distance until they seem to forget, and the circle would start up again.

Witch.

How they were so right yet so wrong at the same time.

She made her way into the Gryffindor common room, drawn to the large couch next to the fire, which was still burning, and removed her robes as she sat down, curling up and drawing her robes around her like a blanket.

She stared into the fireplace, wishing she could clear her mind. Sometimes, the fire would warm her, soothe her. Listening to the pop and crackle of the wood burning beneath the flame, letting it carry her away to a world far from here.

Other times…it came with the smell of smoke, the screams of terror, the wind rushing around her as the flame flickered at her fingertips, reminding her…

"Annabelle."

Annabelle jumped at the sound of his voice, drawing her robes tighter around her frame as she looked up at the edge of the couch to see him standing there.

"Garreth!"

The concern gave way to a sheepish expression as he held up his hands in surrender.

"Sorry." His voice was low. His red curls were mussed, his robes thrown haphazardly over his sleepwear, and she frowned.

"What are you doing up?" she found herself asking.

Garreth stared at her for a long moment before he frowned.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"

Annabelle shook her head, confused when Garreth sighed. "May I sit?" He gestured to the seat where her feet were. "It's a little awkward standing and talking to you."

Annabelle just stared at him, unblinking, for a moment before it dawned on her, and she felt her cheeks heat up.

"I'm sorry." She pulled her feet closer to her. "Of course, have a seat." She fumbled with the robe, wrapping it around her a little tighter as Garreth sat down on the space left for him and he sighed heavily.

She watched him carefully,

"So, why are you up?" he looked at her.

"I asked you first."

That got a ghost of a smile from him as he tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at her. She merely stared back at him.

"Home sickness," he slowly admitted. "The beginning of the term usually has me feeling a little…unconnected from my family. As weird as it sounds." He gave her a self-conscious chuckle.

"You miss your family, that isn't weird." She sighed deeply. "They must miss you too."

"My younger sister hates it when I must leave to go to Hogwarts. She always wants to sneak into my bag so I can bring her here." Annabelle smiled at the image.

"How old is she?"

"Six. She will be turning Seven in October and she already has asked for her present. For us to come back home for her birthday. Including our older brother and sister."

"Yes, I have met them, briefly. Frederick, who is in Seventh Year and Gwendolyn, in sixth year. Both are Gryffindor because that's what Weasley does."

"Fred and Gwen, yes." He raised his index finger into the air. "And don't call them by their full name unless you would like them to pull rank," he warned her. "That's right only belongs to our mother." She smiled.

"I think I remember someone calling Gwen by her full name and got a leg-locking curse in return." Garreth chuckled at the memory as he nodded.

"Some Slytherin fifth year at the time. I think he tried to make a move on her. She was not highly receptive to his…attention if I remember correctly."

"Are you close to your younger sister?" she asked, lifting her arm to rest her elbow on the armrest and cupping her chin with her hand as she watched him.

"She's the baby. I was the first one to see her after she was born. She was so small, so loud." He grinned, clearly lost in his memories that it made her heart pang. She wondered what it was like to have a family, a sibling, to have someone to care about, someone who was a part of you.

"What's her name?" she found herself asking.

"Chloe." The love was clear in his voice.

"That's a beautiful name. It stands for a green shoot on a plant or flower. It's a symbol for blooming."

"You know your names." Garreth looked at her and she blinked as she came out of her thoughts then gave him a sheepish grin.

"I like finding out the meaning of names. It's always interesting to know if the person reflects their name."

Garreth let out a low hum as he nodded before he looked at her.

"My turn. Why are you up?"

"I couldn't sleep." She sighed heavily. "It's always like this when I come back to Hogwarts. It takes…a little adjustment."

"Noise?" he questioned, and she laughed, softly. He had no idea how close he was. She shook her head.

"Coming from a non-magical household to a magical castle," she explained, giving a truth as close as she could without giving anything away.

Only Cressida and the Professors knew she lived in an orphanage. Professor Fig suspected what went on in the orphanage, but he never asked her, and she never told him.

Cressida knew more.

Garreth made a noise at the back of his throat, and she glanced back up at him again. "It can take a little adjustment getting used to all the magical things around me."

"You never speak of your home."

"It's not an interesting conversation." She gave him a small smile, returning her gaze to the fire.

"I don't know. Seems like you are an interesting person." That made her cheeks heat up as she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye to see him tilting his head before she returned to the fire.

She couldn't let him get too close. She tried hard to keep her distance from her housemate. Cressida managed to squeeze her way past Annabelle's walls before she could fully get them up, but she couldn't let Garreth gets too close, no matter how tempting it was.

"I can assure you that I am not interesting." Silence descended between the two of them, the only noise was the sound of the fire crackling when Garreth broke the silence.

"You know, it's a shame you never took Care of Magical Creature in our third year."

What? Annabelle blinked at the fire as she mulled over Garreth's words then glanced at him, even more confused when she saw the grin on his face.

"I was more concerned about controlling my magic." She gave him a suspicious look. "Adding in magical creatures didn't quite seem like a good idea at the time."

"I'm just saying you missed out on a really good class."

That made Annabelle curious about what he was talking about, and he smiled. "Especially since I know you like Diricawls."

That surprised her, and it must have shown because he smirked. "I saw those drawings. Those were good, by the way." She felt her cheeks heat up. She never knew that he had seen her drawings.

Clearing her throat, she refocused her attention on Garreth.

"Alright, tell me."

"So, it was our first class and Professor Howin was introducing us all to the wonderful creatures that we would be learning and caring for." He was grinning and being dramatic that she bit her lower lip to stop the smile from crossing her lips.

It only served to encourage him, flashing her a brilliant smile that made her cheeks heat up and her chest flutter.

"She said that diricawls were the creatures we were going to learn about as they are a harmless creatures. So, the class was going along great until one of the diricawls decided it didn't want to go back into its pen and hopped up onto Professor Howin's desk…and gave this look to Leander."

"Oh, that look." She knew the look. It was a defiant look, the challenge, the dare to come and capture it.

She always liked seeing that look. Sometimes she wished she could mimic that look.

"So, Leander, being Leander," that made a giggle slip out before she caught herself, cupping a hand over her mouth. He brightened, "Decided that he would be the one to capture the diricawl."

"Oh…no." She had a feeling where this story is going.

"Snuck up behind it, all stealth-like – commenting he was like a cat." She covered her eyes, "And he pounced, swift like toward the diricawl…which disappeared."

Annabelle tried her hardest not to let the laugher slip free, her hand dropping from her eyes to her mouth, meeting his dancing green eyes.

"So, he fell, face first into the mud – of course," that made Annabelle smile at the image, "Then the diricawl reappeared on his back and let out this bloodcurdling scream, Leander started screaming then the whole class is in an uproar, screaming and yelling that Professor Howin was trying her hardest to calm everyone down. Didn't work so well as the other diricawls thought it was a good idea to join in the screaming."

Annabelle pulled up her robes and buried her face into the fabric, muffling her laughter at the image of their classmates flailing around. Poor Professor Howin. The professor had her hands full with Poppy Sweeting and her love for the creatures, never mind the entire class acting up.

She could only imagine the expression on Professor Howin's face at the sight, could imagine Poppy's expression and she, briefly, wished she had been there for the class.

It took a moment before Annabelle managed to calm herself down, she pulled her robes down from her face to see Garreth's pleased smile and shook her head, fondly, at him.

"We eventually got the diricawls back into their pen. It did take Poppy calming them down and bribing them with food. They weren't too happy with the rest of us." Garreth chuckled as Annabelle wiped away the tears from her cheeks.

"And Leander?" She managed to ask.

"Oh, he hates the things. Refuses to have anything to do with them." He grinned and Annabelle burst into fresh laughter, dropping her head back into her robes.

It took a moment to control her laughter, to get her breath back and she pulled away from the robes, meeting Garreth's happy expression.

"I shouldn't have laughed. Poor Leander," she admitted with a sheepish smile.

"I am sure he would be happy to hear that," Garreth grinned. "He does have a hard time living it down. As a certain Slytherin likes to remind him occasionally."

"Is that the one who tends to…flirt with him? Cassie?" she asked, cautiously and he shrugged.

"Who knows when it comes to them. They are either flirting or fighting. Sometimes it's both at the same time."

That made Annabelle smile as she thought back on seeing Leander and Cassiopeia Black. The two of them have always been at each other's throats since her third year – although Cressida told her that it had been their thing ever since they first met each other in their first year.

Prewett and Black don't get along, Cressida had told her. It was a family thing, especially considering that the Black were of pure blood superiority. But she had never seen the attitude with Cassie.

The Slytherin girl was…aloof. If she was in the company of someone, it was Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt, her fellow Slytherins but Annabelle always saw her on her own, keeping to herself.

Annabelle found herself admiring Cassie. The way she held herself, the way she walked, talked. Nothing fazed Cassie. If anything happened, she would just look at it with thinly veiled interest before she would move on.

She had seen people attempting to surprise Cassie, play tricks and pranks only for Cassie to deflect it quite masterfully and walk on.

However, when it came to Leander, there was something about the tall redhead that made Cassie stop in her tracks, stand to her full height and fire back insults, a fire to her spirit, to her eyes, even her lips.

Even Leander was different when it came to Cassie, not backing down. He was usually a sweet boy, stumbling over his words and unconfident in himself when she spoke to him but with Cassie, there was nothing of that boy.

"Sometimes it takes the right person to bring you out of your shell," she found herself saying, glancing up at Garreth. "She…seems to come alive when she's around him." She frowned and shook her head. "I am probably not making any sense-"

"You're right," Garreth gently interrupted, and she met his eyes curiously. "I got to know her through our potion classes. She's not as closed off as one would think considering the way she acts. But when Leander is around, it's like he just…"

"Draws a spark from her," she finished, and he nodded with a grin.

"Thought he would totally kill me in my sleep if he ever heard me saying this." She grinned. "I mean it, I can see my headstone now, 'smothered in sleep for gossiping'." That made her laugh again.

"He's not that mean." She protested.

"It sure feels like it sometimes," Garreth muttered under his breath, drawing an eye roll from her then she nudged at his thigh with her bare feet when Garreth wrapped his hand around it, drawing it onto his lap.

"You know how Leander is." Her eyes followed his movement, wiggling her toes when his fingers trailed over the tip of them then she met his green eyes. "He comes off as brash, but he does care for you. And he won't smother you in your sleep for gossiping about him." She smiled. "More likely to drop something in your drink."

That made Garreth laugh, ducking his head forward, causing his curls to fall and she watched, mesmerised by him. She had always been drawn to the fiery red curls, and how they would shine in the sunlight.

But here, against the glow of the fire, he seemed to radiate warmth, his hair taking on a golden glow that she found it hard to take her eyes off him.

"But when he's around her…" Garreth trailed off.

"He's more confident in himself. It is like she makes him forget what it's like to be nervous. He acts like the man you know he could be if he wasn't so unconfident."

"We are so dead in the morning." Garreth mused with a nod. "He's not even going to bury the bodies."

Annabelle laughed as she pushed her foot into his hand, enjoying the way he ran his fingers over the top of her foot. She wiggled her toes, drawing a smile from him as he tapped the tip of her big toe and glanced up at her.

"Can I ask a question?"

"You already did." She smiled at the look he was giving her. "But you're welcome to ask another one."

"Feisty." He had an amused smile playing on his lips and she rolled her eyes.

"You don't know everything about me, Garreth Weasley."

"I can see that." He chuckled as he shook his head before he tugged on her toe. "You never mention old friends." She licked her bottom lip. "You joined us in our third year, and you took to Cressida quickly."

"I think you will find it was actually the opposite," she corrected him, "She took to me quite quickly. Actually, now I think about it," she brought a finger to her chin thoughtfully, "She pretty much declared me as her best friend."

Garreth was laughing as she smiled, enjoying his laughter. She loved-liked! Liked his laughter. It always made her smile, feel warm, safe – if a laugh could do that, it would be Garreth's – and not so alone.

Like she would be. Cold. Alone. Shunned.

Witch.

"I was just wondering about your old school, the one you went to before you came to Hogwarts."

You should burn.

"Was it like Hogwarts? A big school?

Or maybe you should drown.

"No." She came out of her dark thoughts, her memories.

She would never have to go back there. She was in a new place, a new school, with new people.

But come the summer…heat wasn't the only hell.

"My school was small. Nothing fancy like Hogwarts. We'd get to leave when school was finished. We never stayed there."

Garreth made a noise of wonderment. She knew that the students of Hogwarts didn't know much of the non-magical world. How things were different there than it was here.

How people couldn't protect themselves with magic in the non-magical world. Even so…those who did have magic still couldn't protect themselves.

Not if they wanted to bring down the wrath of the Ministry for daring to break their rules. Rules that non-magical did not know.

"And the students? Did you make friends?"

Stones thrown.

Curses.

Taunting.

It was hard to look back at the memories. Hard to see the faces. They'd blur together, morphing into one.

"No." She shook her head. "People didn't want to be friends with someone who could make weird things happen just by being there." She swallowed nervously.

That was the wrong thing to say as Garreth frowned and her nerves flared.

"Weird things? I thought your magic didn't manifest until before our third year?"

"Not…exactly," she murmured as she looked away from him toward the fire and maybe that was the wrong thing to do as it brought back even more memories.

The flames licked the fabric, rushing up and surrounding the windows.

The screams as they fought against the door, the lock clicking defiantly. The pounding of fists against the wood

And her…just staring at the flames.

"My magic would flare up. Mostly when I was," Tormented, "Upset. Once I knew what was happening, or at least understood that I was the reason, I found a way to…control it."

The implication was clear in the silence before his breath hitched and she looked at him to see the horror in his expressive green eyes.

"You…supressed your magic?" he sounded incredulously, and she slowly nodded.

"I know."

"You could have…" he trailed off.

"I know." She sighed, giving him a look. "Professor Fig told me everything. After he gave me into trouble for supressing my magic. But there is something you need to understand. Not everyone in the non-magical world is…ready for what we can do. And not everyone is accepting of it."

She fell silent as she picked at her nails, frowning as she tried to push back her memories of the orphanage. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about it, not while she was too close to him.

He was easy to talk to, easy to confide in. She felt he could understand her, that he wouldn't judge her so it would be so easy to tell him the truth.

However, she knew from experience that no one is who they seem. And no matter how much she wanted to, it was safer – for both of them – for her to keep her secret deep within herself.

"It must have been weird when someone showed up to say you were a witch."

"It was your aunt." She smiled sadly at the memory.

"Aunt Matilda?" he asked, surprised and she nodded.

"She had been the one task to track me down. She took me to a little park down the way and explained the situation to me. Said it was unusual for a student to be found later in the years of Hogwarts – although I think the new Ravenclaw might have me beat there."

"But I thought Professor Fig was the one to meet you? Aunt Matilda never said anything when I saw her that summer."

"She suggested Professor Fig after we had our conversation. Professor Fig was in a better position to explain the situation. It took some time, but it eventually was resolved, and I was able to come to Hogwarts. He was the one to take me to Diagon Alley to get my wand and things and I stayed with him and his wife until it was time to come Hogwarts. Mostly because they had to teach me two years' worth of classes."

"And your home? Did they understand?"

"In a way."

There was nothing she could say that would describe how they had reacted, how they had treated her.

Knowing that she was going to Hogwarts, knowing that she would be away from the orphanage for a year was the hope that she clung to, shining brightly amongst the darkness and the pain.

She knew Garreth wanted to ask her more questions. She could see it on his face. He had the most expressive face she had ever seen. He was never good at lying. Something Leander like to exploit whenever Garreth had gotten up to something and was trying to hide it from his best friend.

Both sat in silence for a long moment when the clock chimed softly, and she looked up before she sighed heavily.

"We should go to bed. Even though it is the weekend, no doubt our friends will want us up bright and early to get a start on the day."

Garreth groaned at the thought, and she couldn't help but laugh at the sound. It was a break in the mood that had descended over them.

"At least Cressida will be nice to you in the morning. Leander, on the other hand, will probably drag me out of my bed by my ankle."

"I don't know about Cressida," Annabelle hummed under her breath, "She has been working on her spells and I'm pretty sure she might have perfected her aguamenti charm." She pulled a face. "I think she is trying to add flavour to it now so she can sneak drinks in the library."

Garreth gaped at her, and she smiled. "Cressida hasn't quite learned her lesson about annoying the Librarian. I do wonder how Madam Scribner survives both Cressida's spell work and Sebastian's frequent attempts to break into the Restricted Section."

"I am surprised that the Librarian came back this year after the trouble she had last year," Garreth grumbled.

"Maybe it only made her more determined to protect the library."

"Then good luck to her. O. and N.E. on the line, and with our year having the exams…well, we all know how hectic our year can be."

"Not to mention you and your affinity for potions." She glanced at him from under her eyelashes with a smile.

"And you and your affinity for flying. I thought Madam Kogawa was going to turn you upside down for that stunt you pulled."

That made her laugh aloud, bringing up her robes to muffle her laughter as she shook her head. "You also gave Professor Black some grey hair if I remember correctly. I think I heard him mumbling about needing a mirror."

That made her laugh harder at the image as she reached out one hand to slap Garreth on the shoulder as he chuckled.

"It wasn't that bad of a stunt," she protested as she pulled her robes away, giving a hiccup that made Garreth laugh harder, and she rolled her eyes at him.

"I don't know. Cressida was certainly upset with you afterwards," Garreth remarked as he grinned, amusement dancing in his eyes as she held her breath, trying to get rid of her hiccups.

"Don't. I think I still have the scars from her lecture," she breathed out slowly, testing herself.

"Not literal ones I hope." Garreth's eyes scanned her, and she scoffed, fighting down the blush that threatened to fill her cheeks under his gaze.

"She's not that bad. Despite your best attempt to rile her up."

"Me?" His hand went to his chest in mock despair. "I do not know what you are talking about my dear lady."

"Oh no, don't you try and charm your way out of this." He arched an eyebrow at her, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

"You think I'm charming?"

"And you're deflecting the conversation." She nudged at his hand again with her foot before pulling her foot away before he could grasp it. "And we really should go to bed before your aunt comes in because someone decided to blab." She glanced at the portraits around them and Garreth blanched.

"Good idea." He stood up first, stretching his arms over his head and her eyes locked onto the bare skin of his stomach that was revealed when his nightshirt rose with his movements.

She bit her bottom lip when she noticed a trail of dark red hair dipping beneath his night trousers before swiping her tongue over her bottom lip and clearing her throat when his shirt dropped back into place, darting her eyes off to the side to pretend she hadn't been watching him.

A hand came into view, and she stared at it for a moment before lifting her eyes to meet his green ones then slipped her hand into his, letting Garreth pull her up from the couch, her feet sliding into her slippers, his other hand catching her robe as it slid down her body.

Her breath caught in her chest when Garreth slowly straightened to his full height, and she found herself staring into his eyes.

"Here," his voice sounded hoarse, "I'll help you put this on." He opened the robe and she swallowed nervously, acutely aware that she only was wearing a thin nightgown that tugged tight in places.

Annabelle slowly turned around and slipped her arms through the sleeves, sighing when he pulled the robes over her shoulder then slowly slid his hands down her arms as he leaned in.

She closed her eyes when his scent washed over her then his fingers gently tugged at her hair, pulling it free from the robes then lightly glided down her back.

"There we are." She swallowed nervously before she turned around, tugging her robes close and gave him a small smile.

"Thank you." She leaned in. "Such a gentleman," she teased, trying to break the tension between them and he smile.

"Anytime." With that, they made their way up the stairs, reaching the landing that split them up to the fifth years' rooms and they turned to face each other, and Annabelle found herself unwilling to pull away from him.

Garreth seemed to be feeling the same way as her as he looked down at her with a look on his face that she couldn't quite describe but she knew they needed to make the parting quickly. Every moment spent lingering was a moment closer to being caught.

"Hey." She drew his attention and gave him a smile. "Thank you. For telling me about your first day in Care of Magical Creatures." She shrugged softly. "It was nice to take my mind off things. And I promise not to tell Leander what you told me."

That got a sheepish smile in return.

"Thank you, for sharing with me a little bit of your history." His smile turned softer, genuine. "I won't tell anyone, even my aunt."

"Thank you." Gathering her courage, she pushed herself on tiptoes and pressed her lips against his cheek, feeling the start of a stubble and it sent shivers down her spine before she pulled away, dropping back onto her heels, glancing up to see Garreth was looking at her lips before he raised his eyes to meet hers.

"Goodnight," Her voice was low, almost hushed and he swallowed.

"Goodnight."

Annabelle pulled away from him, drawing her hand from his as she stepped up the stairs, never taking her eyes off him.

"I will see you soon."

That got a smile from him as he watched her.

"I'll hold you to that."

With a smile, Annabelle turned around and made her way into her room, softly closing the door behind her so she didn't wake up her roommates and with a small twirl, making way over to her bed, her cheeks hurting from smiling and she placed her hands over them, feeling how warm they were.

She was as giddy as a lovesick girl, but she found that she didn't care. She had spent another night talking to Garreth, getting to know him better and opening a little more to him and she wondered if it was a possibility for them, in the future…

Cressida's sleepy voice, commanding spells, brought her out of her daydream and her smile faded as the reality of her situation dawned on her.

This wasn't a good idea.

He was the nephew of the deputy headmistress, who was keeping a close eye on both him and her.

She was an orphan, who was a freak growing up for her ability to see the future, tormented by those who were supposed to protect her.

Her heart heavy, sinking deep into her chest she let out a sigh as she reached her bed.

No. She couldn't give herself hope like that. She pulled back the covers, kicked off her slippers and removed her robes, hanging it over the nearby chair and climbed into her bed, pulling the covers over as she turned onto her side.

She knew what she needed to do, despite what she wanted to do, no matter how tempting it was.

Annabelle will do what she did best. Shove her feelings down deep. Keep up her walls and survive.

She could only be friends with Garreth Weasley, nothing more.

Pushing down the lump that formed in her throat, she turned her face into her pillow and allowed a tear to slip free.

It was better, for all of them.

The End

#Garreth Weasley/Female OC #Garreth Weasley #Annabelle Winters #Garreth/Annabelle #Hogwarts Legacy #Fanfiction #Series: You Make Loving Fun #weasley wednesday #I did it! #I finished it!

[lorirwritesfanfic]

Personal Favourite - Part 2: Favourite Part(s)

Author's note: Another gift for @missameliep​ because reasons (I may or may not be planning flood your notes with the OTP meme fics in the next few days. I don’t know for sure... 😅). Happy birthday, dear! This is also a late submission to @choicesjuly2022challenge​ (I hope it’s okay...)[Original characters are creations of this author. The others are owned by Pixelberry Studios]

Book: Desire & Decorum (modern day AU) Characters: MC (Daphne), F!OC (Veronica), Prince Hamid, Annabelle Parsons, Briar Daly, Edmund Marlcaster, Yusuf Konevi, Bartholomew Chambers. Pairings: Prince Hamid x MC (Daphne), Annabelle Parsons x F!OC (Veronica) Rating: T Word count: 980 Reading time: ~3min Summary: A volleyball match will bring so many emotions to the surface. Based on the prompts: Choices July Chellenge 2022 - day ten: beach / OTP ask meme #6: What is their favourite feature of their partner’s?

A salty breeze blew against Daphne's face as she lay on an outdoor chaise, watching her friends play volleyball by the calm waters of the Aegean sea. She was well aware some of them were too competitive to handle having someone not so good at sports on their team, so why bother joining? It was so much more entertaining to watch the game anyway.

Whilst Hamid and Annabelle high-fived after another successful block and point against Briar and Edmund, her childhood friend complained about sand on her eyes.

"Oh, quit whining! You barely moved! Edmund took the dive!" Annabelle shouted.

"But the sand is going straight to my eye!" Briar cried out hoping Bart and Yusuf (a.k.a the match referees) would take pity on her, but both of them simply shook their heads.

“I can see you talking, but all I hear is wah, wah, wah!" Annabelle taunted.

Briar replied sticking her tongue out to Annabelle.

As everyone laughed, Hamid took his place just outside the end of the court and waited for Bart's signal to serve.

Daphne sat up and nibbled her bottom lip expectantly. She couldn't remember the last time she has paid such close attention to any part of a volleyball match. But watching Hamid play was a rare event she just couldn't miss.

Sensing his partner's attentive eyes on him, he smiled at her, winked and prepared himself to serve. His skin glowed under the sunlight, accentuating the taut muscles of his arms as he jumped and hit the ball to the other side of the court. As expected, he scored another point. From time to time, he dumped some of the water in his bottle over his head and, much to her delight, it cascaded over his bare torso, mixing with pearls of sweat running down his body. He moved such grace alongside Annabelle as they attacked and defended their side of the court it looked like they've been playing together for years.

Daphne sighed contently at the scene before her and lay down again, resting her chin on one hand. Staying on the sidelines to watch him play was, so far, the best decision of the day.

"Here you go, sweetie."

Veronica offered Daphne a tall glass of Blue Lagoon and took a seat on the nearby chaise.

"Thank you," she replied and took a long sip of the drink.

"Take this too." Veronica handed Daphne a napkin.

"What for?"

"So you can wipe the drool dripping down your chin as you gawk at Hamid."

Daphne instinctively lifted a hand to her chin and then pursed her lips as Veronica doubled over.

"Ha ha."

"Hey, no judgments here. The entire beach staring at him, Daph. But you are  the only one with access granted to all of that." Veronica pointed to Hamid and moved her finger as though she could touch his frame from afar.

"Aren't you gay?" Daphne narrowed her eyes playfully.

"Very! I'd never trade Ann with all her gorgeous curves for a guy, no matter how hot he is. But I do like to appreciate all kinds of beauty." Veronica smiled slyly. "I mean, look at that back. I can count every single muscle from here."

"Don't I know it..."

"The crazy number of the paintings and sketches you have of him speaks for itself, Daph."

The two friends giggled.

"But you know what's my favourite part of him?"

"No. What is it?"

"His arms."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Obviously they look good because they're big and powerful. But I like his arms because of how he hugs people, you know."

Veronica was so right. But Hamid's hugging skills go beyond welcoming hugs. He has a protective hug, one that he often uses to shield Daphne from the cold and unwanted attention from people neither of them liked. The comforting one, the kind of hug he offers when she's sad, tired, overwhelmed or when she didn't even realise she needed a hug.

He also has a tackle-hug. A more playful kind of hug he saved for whenever they were alone, preferably when they're in the mood for fewer clothes. And there was the "I miss you" hug. Though it has a hint of the comforting and tackle-hug, his arms grew tighter around her and followed by a relieved sigh and a “it’s so good to be home” comment.

"I agree. But his hugs aren't simply made of his arms. It’s so much more," Daphne commented as she gazed back at Hamid as he made the final point to win the match.

"Of course not." Veronica looked in the same direction. "There's also the chest..."

“That wasn’t what I meant, but yeah.”

“There are also the broad shoulders.”

"And the six-pack."

"With that V pointing towards the..."

"Uh-huh..."

They laughed again.

As Hamid left the court and sauntered over to them, Veronica stood up. "That's my cue to step in."

"Okay. Have fun at the game!"

"I have a feeling you’ll have so much more fun than I will, but thanks!"

Veronica briefly hugged Hamid and rushed to the sand to join Annabelle's team.

Once he was close enough, Daphne knelt on the chaise and greeted him with a smile. "Hi there."

"Hi..." He closed the distance between them and captured her lips in a searing kiss.

As her fingers toyed with the waistband of his swim trunks, he whispered. "We're lucky this beach is nearly desert this week. We'd cause quite the scandal with a kiss like that."

“Would we?”

"Mmhmm..."

"That would be so bad..." She purred.

“So, so bad…” He murmured between kisses.

"I think we should go back to our room then."

Hamid pulled away and gazed at her with a curious look. "Now?!"

Daphne nodded with a mischievous grin.

"I have no idea what caused this, but who am I to object?" He replied with a smile nearly as sinful as hers.

Hand in hand, the two of them left the shore and disappeared into the hotel lobby.

#choices fanfic #desire and decorum #prince hamid #hamid x mc #desire and decorum fanfic #desire & decorum modern day au #meant to be au #lorirwritesfanfic #lorircreates