#fleur buried love
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If you ever needed a sign that although my writing brain decided to put itself on a looong hiatus, the story and characters are constantly living in it rent free it’s probably that every time I download a new app to play with the BL gang are the first thing I try to create.
I thought maybe I’d start sharing some of the random creations on here. Just in case they’re pretty to look at (and so they exist somewhere outside of my phone).
So here are the OG BL gang made using Wonder. Not perfect, and I’m definitely still learning how to use AI (although it’s never going to replace art commissions for me!)
#random BL stuff#buried love#BL characters#aayush buried love#alex buried love#zein buried love#lily buried love#rota buried love#abe buried love#fleur buried love#catarina buried love
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｡ · 🍨𐩅 ◜rose◞ users ︕ ◌ 𐨒
vienrosa -> from french "vie" (life) and spanish "rosa" (pink/rose)
rosekeu -> from korean "핑크(색)/pingkeu(saek)" (pink)
ro99se -> yk☆⌒(≧▽° ) 🌸🐾
rosether -> from "ethereal"
rorose96 -> yk☆⌒(≧▽° ) 🌸🐾x2
gatorose -> from spanish "gato" (cat [masc/neu])
romeowse -> from "meow"
roswberry -> from "berry"
ros6ngel -> from "angel" and spanish "rosa" (pink/rose)
roseqult -> from spanish "sepultar" (to bury a dead person)
ouroses -> "our roses"
rometery66 -> from "cemetery"
cr9wse -> from "crows"
rosmoure -> from french "amour" (love)
ro09se -> yk☆⌒(≧▽° ) 🌸🐾x3
roselace -> from "lace"
l-ambrose -> from "lamb"
kkirose -> from korean "토끼/tokki" (rabbit/bunny)
rosekki -> from korean "토끼/tokki" (rabbit/bunny)
makirose -> from "maki" [sushi]
rosenbcw -> from "bow"
yumeros -> from japanese "夢/yume" (dream)
rorocats -> from "cats"
hopsro -> from [a rabbit's] "hops"
lune93rose -> from french "lune" (moon) / "lune rose" (pink moon — the name of the full moon during spring, originating in the 1930s)
fleuroses -> from french "fleur" (flower)
fioreose -> from italian "fiore" (flower)
#☆ user ideas#messycore#messy aesthetic#messy packs#random users#aesthetic usernames#user ideas#cute usernames#soft users#tumblr users#twitter users#usernames#users#short usernames#random usernames#username ideas#aesthetic url#one word url#carrd url
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FLUORESENSITIVE TAGS' LIST, JANUARY 2024
sound and color: afro/slash hood futurism; missy elliot and sun-ra, janelle monae's archandroid and alice coltrane
i saw things i imagined: surrealism, color and texture, fantasy worlds
i am king: knights and quests, arthurian legends, joan of arc and brienne of tarth
the turning wheel: images n quotes that remind me of an ursula k le guin novel, images and quotes that remind me of spellling
dark and hungry roots: fae + goblins + creatures, they're in the woods and they want your name
she screams!: catch all horror tag, blood and guts and slashers
laughing before god does: a more specific gore and fleshy gross horror tag, inspired by cao hui
kate bush's wuthering heights: love so intense and passionate it extends beyond the grave; i hated him, i never loved him more; you want them dead, you want them beside you, you know,
one of those crazy girls: mad and bad women, women with murderous intent, final girls, whatever didn't kill her had better start running
ain't no grave: ghosts + hauntings + the absence of something is still a sort of presence
desperado: the yeehaw agenda, cowboys
age of pleasure: sensuality + black joy and pleasure
les fleurs: black girl cottagecore, flowers and frilly dresses, sunshine on brown skin
does the poison drip through?: family dynamics, siblings + parents + ancestral rot, you need a shovel to bury your brother, does your mother love you all the time
i who bend the tall grasses: angels and demons, religious ecstasy, a god who devours
fear not!: angels and saints, gabriel comes to you with a thousand eyes and a message
my skin my logo: black skin, brown skin, brown leather, black braids, black days! these are black owned things! black faith (can't be washed away, not even in that florida water!)
the black gothic: the hood, the church, and the holy grandmother's house. daughters of the dust and eve's bayou and the work of toni morrison, deana lawson and gordon parks
pure/honey: it's giving cunt, it's giving sex, it's giving ballroom and pearls, sequins and rhinestones, eleganza!
oh bondage up yours!: black punk + leather and studs
i been on: (tell me who gon take me off!) ostentatious displays of wealth, logomania + dapper dan, gold ass watch, gold ass rangs
not yet lost all our graces: succesion-core, old money, lace-edged socks and penny loafers, your daddy's rich and your ma's good-looking
this house is empty now: haunted houses + haunted places + empty houses
what the water gave me: mermaids, sirens, and things under the sea
put me back in it: tender, love and passion + sensuality + you're in love and you're gonna shout it from the roofs
geyser by mitski: longing, needing, yearning so hard it hurts your stomach and makes you ill
secret life of plants: nature tag!
commes de garcons: fashion tag, looks, i know that's not the french way to spell it.
the more general tags like 'on writing' and 'on horror' are pretty intuitive, but just in case.
on horror / on writing / on literature / on womanism / on blackness
on sundays, she picked flowers / my writing /my mewdboards / my mixtapes / my collages / recs
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As the year is ending,
The residual of all the life I’ve forbidden myself out of habit
is barely drawing a new beginning line
So where do i start ? today ?
By the time I woke up today i was already late, not in the sense that i had somewhere to be. No, but the urge to up and leave was almost hysterical
The only thing contradicting it
Was the hesitancy I chained my feet to before I went to sleep last night.
One foot in December, the other in January.
I thought i could still put an effort in trying, but then i started counting all the steps that i took away from reality
I’m so full of life that i don’t know how to put any of it to use; bits and pieces are falling behind because i have my hands so full of myself.
I rationalize the amount of love i absorb into my body, but.. it’s never wasted on me.
If it’s too much for me today, I’ll save it in, store it in a dark corner in my brain that resembles a personal pandora box
my prefrontal cortex
and when everything gets overwhelmingly dark I’ll open it then, let all the leftover love roam my world, and if it ruins me then so be it and if it fixes me…
Well, i don’t see it.
I strive for depth but the more i dig the deeper I’m buried
Naïve enough to expect that someone on the surface will surely notice, and walk back on my steps.
But it’s nothing to worry about now, is it ?
I’m young and I’m invincible and I’m on top of the world
I’m hesitant and I’m rotten. and I can’t stop thinking about throwing myself into this world
The way i was thrown in a pool as a child, expecting that contact will trigger an instinctive response and I’ll swim.. I’ll live.
So.. if I start spinning around myself in my kitchen like a dervish would do in sufi whirling..
it’s only because I’m overflowing with all that I want to be.. but i can’t.
•••
•Quotes: Nelly Sachs, tr. by Eric Plattner/ Anne Sexton/ Fariha Róisín/ Sylvia Plath/ Mayclair/ Taylor Swift
•Original context: Sinligh
•Art reference:
1. Mother and Children by William-Adolphe Bouguereau (Details) 2. Jean-Augustin Franquelin (detail). 3. Ettore Tito - Con la rosa tra le labbra. 4. Louis Janmot, Fleur des champs (details) 5. Art by Salvatore Postiglione (detail)
#sinligh poem#personal writing#on yearning#wasted potential#quotes#nelly sachs#anne sexton#fariha róisín#sylvia plath#Mayclair#taylor swift#web weaving#word weaving#blotched words#parallels#compilation#literature#spilled words#december#art compilation#art#paintings#william adolphe bouguereau#Jean Augustin Franquelin#ettore tito#louis janmot#salvatore postiglione#feminine hysteria#feminine rage
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stay until morning light 🌈
characters: rook hunt, gn!reader
warnings: fluff, angst
a/n:
- i headcanon rook using french to soothe you down, knowing that at least his language is something familiar from your old world. additionally, he uses different nicknames because only one can't capture the beauty that you are~
- come get your man @v-anrouge, he's waiting at the altar already
- feedback is appreciated!
Labored breaths catch Rook Hunt's attention as he slumbers. He sits up, hands instinctively reaching for the weapon beneath his pillow; he's desperate to help you even in his subconsciousness it seems, but the moonlight falls on your face, revealing the cause of his worries, and his heart sinks.
Your lips are open, feverish heat and labored gasps tear from your throat. Your eyes, squeezed shut painfully, leak streams of salty tears that carve valleys in your cheek. The intensity of your nightmare slightly frightened him; he had never seen anyone have such violent nightmares as you do. The moonlight falling through his windows highlights the way your mouth tears open and lets out silent screams and the way your fists are clenched so tight that he fears permanent crescent scars might be seared onto your beautiful hands forever. Rook cups your chin, his blond hair falling onto you as he attempts to wake you up. In his soul, in his mind, he prays that he'd never have to see you like this.
He knows you go through these nightmares but by the Sevens, he could never imagine it being so heart-wrenchingly painful to watch you go through this. It feels like his heart has been torn out of his chest and he is conscious all throughout the act. He couldn't even bare the emotional pain so he wonders solemnly what you must be feeling. It must be thousands- no, millions more painful than what he must feel.
"Ma cherie," He murmurs, pressing kisses everywhere on your face. He wakes you up in a delicate way, as if to contrast against the monstrous nightmares you are having. "Wake up, you're okay."
Your body shakes even more and he barely manages to dodge the punch you throw in your sleep. He continues to murmur softly and calmly, knowing that if he even raises his voice the wrong way, you might even get worse.
"You're alright, I promise," Rook grabs your hand, tracing doodles on your kiss. He slowly lifts your hand to his lips, pressing kisses to each fingerpad. "Wake up, please."
Slowly, but surely, your attacks seem to pause and your eyes twitch. Rook continues to speak in this gentle, calm manner and soon enough, you awaken. Your pupils were still dilated and your chest continues to heave up and down, but the fact you were conscious immediately soothes Rook's soul by a bit.
"Oh mon fleur," He brushes your hair out of your eyes, letting him lock eyes and stare into your enchanting irises forever. He finds it hard to focus on the matter at hand and not on the way you look so gorgeously stunning even after rousing from a nightmare. "What happened?"
Rook lets you steady your breathing while using his other hand to grab his pen to summon a glass of water.
"I had a dream," You murmured, nodding your head in thanks as he hands you a glass of water. "I was forced to leave Twisted Wonderland. Violently."
Slowly, the tears start to flow again. Rook immediately sets aside the glass before grabbing you into a tight hug.
"I-I don't want to!" You wail, sniffling and fisting Rook's nightshirt in your hands. The wrinkles were enough to make Vil scold him but Rook only runs a hand through your hair, calming you down. "I don't want to leave! I-I love this world, I love t-the memories I m-made, I love you!"
You sniff, rubbing your hand across your nose violently to stop your running nose.
"P-please, Rook. Don't make me leave!"
Rook picks out the broken undertone in your voice and the minor cracks in your voice as you sob violently. He tightens his hug around you and buries his head in the crook of your collarbone. He inhales and his senses is immediately flooded with your unique scent, the addictive drug that he is enraptured by.
"I'm addicted to your smile, your scent, your warmth. Don't ever leave me," Rook cups your chin so he can face you again. He leans in, capturing your lips in a quick kiss before continuing. "I can't bear the pain inflicted on my soul. Je ne peux pas virve sans toi, tu es amor de ma vie. Tonjours."
Your lips curve into a simple smile, yet that one simple action is enough to make Rook's heart stutter. He feels like a young schoolboy again, just about to debut into the world of adulthood. "What does that mean?"
"I can't live without you," He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead and down your neck. He leaves wet marks along your neck; internally, he wishes he had worn lipstick so those marks could be seen and shown off to the world. Your fists tighten around his biceps and your eyelids flutter as he continues. "You are the love of my life. Always."
"Rook..."
"Mon ange, the things you do to me," He sighs before wrapping himself around you so he spoons you securely. Rook hopes his natural body heat would give you a safe haven to fall asleep in. Judging by the way your breaths become slower and slower, he must have succeeded and he smiles gently.
"Stay with me until morning light?"
"Tonjours, mon fleur. You don't even need to ask."
#twisted wonderland oneshots#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#rook hunt#rook hunt x mc#rook hunt x reader#twst rook hunt#pomefiore#rook hunt angst#angst#rook hunt fluff
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adding to my last ask, the rest of the album is so similar to the Batfam
Loves like Ghosts - Batcat or BruTalia
Until the Night Turns - Dick (the vibes esp)
Dead Man’s Hand - Jason
-> pretty obvious why 💀. I see it as Jason talking abt his old self with the “tired of a life that never felt like his” line
Hurricane (Johnnie’s theme) - Dick, Jason, and Steph(Cass)
-> I mostly saw it as Stephcass but there were definitely lyrics that applied to Dick (thrill) and Jason (dying lol)
La Bella Fleur Sauvage - DickBabs
The World Ender - Steph (with the romantic lines being shaded between Cass and Gotham) or Jason (with the romantic lines being completely abour Gotham)
-> I feel like it fits Jason better bc it’s literlaky abour being back from the grave but alas
Meet Me in the Woods - Tim(Bern)
The Yawning Grave - ALFRED AND BRUCE ALFRESH AND BRUCE. This is so important to me omg
Cursed - where “she” is Gotham and the speaker is any of the Batfam (sans Cass I think)
Way out There - Damian (“I’m just wearing old bones from those who came first”) (“you” being Dick) or StephCass from Cass’s pov
The Night We Met - the BatSiblings (sans Duke bc he wasn’t adopted yet) during Bruce’s death
There weren’t any I could connect to Duke specifically but yeah 😞
Loves Like Ghost definitely gives of Talia to Bruce vibes. The lyrics of "what ain't living can never really die. You don't want me baby please don't lie. Oh but if you're leaving, I gotta know why." "And if I can't have you then no one ever will." "Baby in my eyes you do no wrong. I don't feel it till it hurts sometimes. So go on baby hurt me tonight."
Until the Night Turns is a cool song. Perhaps you would elaborate more on why you think it fits Dick? The vibes are pretty on, but jot too sure about the lyrics.
Dead Man's Hand does fit Jason. "Sure as hell he was dead as they come and he was already starting to smell. Just a kid with his hair slicked back and a knife tucked into his belt. Was he unforgiven or just tired of living a life that never felt like his?" "I know I'm dead but I don't wanna lie in a grave out here where the coyote's cry. I stared right into the endless void and I ain't going back if I got any choice. I know how to live, I don't know how to die and there ain't no thrills in the afterlife."
Hurricane. I do think that all of the batkids are adrenaline junkies but I do see how the lyrics fit those ones especially.
La Bella Fleur Savage - Google says Fleur means both flower and resilience. I can see how that fits Babs and how the song resembles her love with Dick.
The World Ender - I love this song for Steph. She deserves to get her revenge. She did kind of die with Black Mask, but she didn't really do a revenge thing like Jason. On the other hand she "won't ever feel the embrace of the grave" because she revived before being buried.
Meet Me in the Woods - I see how this is TimBern especially because Bernard isn't in the vigilante business (so he won't really understand what Tim's been through).
The Yawning Grave - Alfred warning Bruce not to become Batman, of its dangers, of the likelihood of him dying, fits so well. He told him when he was a kid, but Bruce still went down with this path
Cursed - I agree that Cass isn't tied to Gotham like the others. If "she" was Gotham, that does fit the others. I raise you, though. What if "she" was their mission or vigilantism? That then fits all of them.
Way out There - Oof. That definitely fits Damian and I love that analysis of him.
The Night We Met - I agree, however, there's a tik tok that has an animation of this song. It absolutely kills my soul every time I see it. It has Bruce singing this about Jason: "I had all," Jason as Robin, "and then most of you," Jason dying, "some and," Jason's grave, "now none of you," Jason as Red Hood. "Take me back to the night we met." The tire jacking night.
We definitely need some Duke songs out there. If anyone has any songs that fit Duke, feel free to comment or reblog with them!!!!
#dc comics#dc universe#jason todd#tim drake#bruce wayne#dick grayson#damian wayne#cass wayne#steph brown#barbara gordon#thank you for the ask!!!!
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HP COTTAGECORE 2023 - MASTERLIST
This has been a wonderful event! Thanks to everyone who participated. 🧺🧺🧺
This is the masterlist post in which all entries submitted across all platforms will be listed.
The AO3 collection will stay open till the end of the year for any late submissions. If you want the blog to reblog your work on Tumblr, please tag @hpcottagecorefest and #hpcottagecorefest2023.
Moodboards
🖼️ Meadows || Gardening - @givereadersahug / emeraldlove
Sirius Black/Severus Snape || Rated G
🖼️ The Herald - @givereadersahug / emeraldlove
Harry Potter/Severus Snape || Rated G
Fics
📖 The Cottage in the Woods - @lumosatnight / lumosdrabbles (lumosatnight)
Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger || Rated G || 200 words
There is a cottage in the woods just outside of town.
📖 Moonlight - @givereadersahug / emeraldlove
Hermione Granger/Luna Lovegood || Rated G || 340 words
This year marked their fifth year together, and Hermione already knew what she wanted to surprise Luna with.
📖 Speak Now - @avalynlestrange
Draco Malfoy/Reader || Rated NR || <2k words
In which you rudely barge in on a white veil occasion.
📖 Under Our Feet - icefire_eyes23
Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy || Rated M || 4.8k+
Growth may be a natural and essential part of the human condition, but that doesn't mean Hermione Granger has to like it. Harry Potter Cottagecore Fest 2023.
📖 A Walk in the Woods - @thecouchsofa / thecouchsofa
Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter || Rated E || 48.2k
After ending up in the Spell Damage Ward at St Mungo’s, Harry is put on mandatory holiday leave.
The catch: he has to spend it with Malfoy at his cottage deep in the woods. Harry has no idea why Malfoy agreed to host him, considering he avoided ever being alone in a room with Harry before he left for his sabbatical a year ago.
To complicate things, Harry’s enormous longstanding crush hasn’t waned at all in Malfoy’s absence.
Podfics
🎙️ Deadheading the Odd Dahlia by peachpety - Cailynwrites
Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter || Rated E || 64 minutes
Harry is content to spend his days at Draco’s flower stall at the farmers market, burying his true feelings in artisanal coffee and rose bouquets. When forced to find new lodgings, he accepts Draco’s offer to live in a cottage at Malfoy Manor, and his long-hidden crush blossoms out of control. Turns out, proximity makes the heart grow fonder.
🎙️ Oh Your Love Is Sunlight by B1ackCatChatsBack - Cailynwrites
Sirius Black/Remus Lupin || Rated E || 353 minutes
“James texted about an hour ago,” he called after Remus as he used his phone as a torch to get to the kitchen and dug out the bees-wax candles he stored there for emergencies, “Apparently there’s a weather warning ... says he won’t expect me home until tomorrow and asks if you could leave a bowl of water and a newspaper on the floor in the kitchen for me,” he finished, voice shaking with humour
Remus snorted
“I’m sure we can come to an arrangement,” he teased as he returned.
“If I’m very good, can I sleep on the bed?” came Sirius’s reply, “I promise not to lick you awake at ungodly hours of the night,” he finished with a smirk lit by his phone as Remus re-entered the room by the light of a lit candle.
“Now that’s not a promise I can let you keep, Darling,” he purred as he placed the candle on the nightstand and clambered onto the bed quicker than he’d done anything else in his life.
OR
Sirius is stuck in a rut - in a job that he hates without any time to pursue his real passion in the aftermath of a toxic relationship - and goes to visit his friends on the rural coast and finds much more than he bargained for - and maybe exactly what he needs.
🎙️ Silver lime and Thestral hair by gnarf - Cailynwrites
Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter || Rated T || 39 minutes
The war had damaged Harry, something that had become very clear once he had started his Auror training. He had to hand in his robes after only three months. He just couldn't do it.
So, when Hermione burst into his flat, a letter in her hands about a vacancy for an apprentice, Harry suddenly found himself in front of Ollivander's, nerves on edge, while trying to talk himself into just reaching for the door.
🎙️ The Art of Seduction: Kidnapping and Hypothermia by ChaosAndCrumpets - Cailynwrites
Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy || Rated E || 73 minutes
Hermione Granger's battered old Ford Fiesta is not built for snowstorms. It's a good thing there's a flannel-clad tractor driver to come to her rescue. Or is it?
#mod post#hpcottagecorefest2023#snirius#snarry#fleurmione#lunamione#draco malfoy#drarry#wolfstar#dramione#hp femslash
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For the kiss ask... 👀
Ship: Grindeldore
Prompt: #1. First Kiss
(if you HC that Grindledore never kiss/the love is unrequited, then I'll add Bill/Fleur as a back up ship for the same prompt)
Thank you @hinnyfied! Oh, we will definitely do some Grindeldore!!
...
The summer heat is oppressive, the air is stale and pungent, and the almost sickly sweet scent of honeysuckle is overwhelming his senses.
Albus is dying in Godric's Hollow, a slow death by suffocation, being buried alive as his executioners, his brother and sister, toss flowers on his coffin.
Then everything changes.
Deep blue eyes. Golden hair, like honey. Chiseled features and a strong jaw.
Gellert is a breath of fresh air. He's a cool breeze in the fields. He's the crisp scent of clean linens and autumn on the horizon. He's freedom personified, offering his hand to lift Albus out of the brutal monotony of family burdens.
They meet daily in the fields beyond Bagshot's gardens. Today is no different. Their sleeves are rolled up, exposing inches of pale and bronze skin. Their hands are almost touching.
Gellert turns to his side, an iridescent vision against the tall, green grasses. Albus turns over, too.
"You're a good friend, Albus."
Gellert's hand inches closer.
One, two, three breaths.
His hand creeps closer, touching one of the buttons on Albus's waistcoat.
"Am I a good friend to you?"
Albus's breath hitches. He nods, afraid to say what he's thinking, what he's been suspecting all summer but doesn't have the words for.
He feels Gellert''s warm hand through the fabric. It's not overbearing, like the stagnant heat around them; it's like the dawn, bringing fresh light to dewy grasses.
"I'd like to be more than a friend," Gellert says, his body drawn up close to Albus's. "Will you let me?"
Albus swallows hard.
"Yes."
Lips meet lips. Gallery's are soft and firm, and the barest golden stubble feels rough against Albus's face.
It feels right, this touching, this kiss.
They separate for a moment, breathing hard.
"Again," Albus whispers. Gellert smiles, and they're lost in each other's embrace.
...
kiss asks
#grindeldore#albus dumbledore#gellert grindelwald#albus x gellert#gellert x albus#grindelwald x dumbledore#dumbledore x grindelwald
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Lips
Fleurmione - 500 words @sapphicmicrofics
vampire AU
~~~~~~~
“Do you really like that color lipstick or can you not hide the stains of who you are anymore?”
Hermione chuckles darkly in response, pointed teeth briefly peeking out beneath the dark red of her lips.
Her iron grip tightens over Fleur’s wrists which are held above her head against the wall, and with her free hand she trails a finger down the blonde’s nose. Merciless eyes rise to meet her defiant ones the moment her fingertip drops to the dip of the hunter’s upper lip.
It’s a low blow, wrenching Fleur’s heart with long-buried memories, which is undoubtedly her intent.
Tracing soft smiles in bed. Tender reminders of how the cupid’s bow was her favorite part of the blonde’s mouth.
All ashes now in the years Fleur has hunted her.
“You can lick it off and find out,” dares Hermione, hips pressing against hers, the finger on her mouth moving to rest provocatively on her chest.
Honey-brown eyes are hard in a way they never were in life. A fact Fleur still finds disconcerting. But there’s something else there saying the offer is real. A longing she recognizes from their days as clueless teenagers. A steadfast need that grew stronger through five years of marriage.
For all the vampire’s toying and flirting, mocking and taking advantage of their past whenever possible, her desire has never been this genuine. Or maybe Fleur refused to see it as such. Yet here Hermione is, wanting her.
The temptation is terrible. To taste her. To feel that softness again and pretend for however long it lasts that their love is alive and well.
Years ago she would have spat at the vampire in righteous anger. But two decades without her wife have been lonely. And she’s so damn tired.
“Please,” the blonde whispers, trembling. From fear or anticipation, she can’t tell.
Surprisingly, the grip on her wrists loosens. The brunette leans forward, nuzzling into her cheek.
“Oh my Fleur,” breathes Hermione. “How I’ve missed you.”
The ache of it is unmistakable. The same ache that’s lived within her all these years. Her eyes sting as she slackens and surrenders.
Lips swiftly take hers, and it’s everything Fleur remembers and more. She only registers that her wrists are free once Hermione’s arms wrap around her. Holding her like she’ll never let go. Her tongue sliding against hers just like she used to. Like she needs her. Like she loves her.
Instead of reaching for the stake hidden in her boot, Fleur pulls Hermione closer, gasping and crying into her mouth that she’s missed her, too. That she can’t lose her again.
“Shh, I know. I know,” soothes Hermione, her thumbs wiping away Fleur’s tears, gentle kisses muting her whimpers.
Until at last, a cold hand cradles her chin and slowly turns her face, exposing her neck.
Fleur waits breathlessly, her heart stuttering at the flash of fangs before feeling kiss-warmed lips smear over her skin.
“Forever will only hurt for a second, my love.”
~~~~~~~
Read on ao3 here
#fleurmione#sapphic microfics april 2023#sapphicmicrofics#April 12 Lips#fleur delacour#hermione granger#hermione x fleur#fleur x hermione#fleurmione fanfic#fleurmione ficlet
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Illicit Affairs - Bill Weasley x Reader
A/N: Hey, guys! It's been a few days (almost a week) since I posted. Here's a little something I've been working on. I'm quite proud of it. The perfect amount of angst and fluff. Hope you guys enjoy! Click here to check out my other Bill x Reader fic, All Too Well.
Song: Illicit Affairs - Taylor Swift
Part Two
Word Count: 3,155
Warnings: Cheating, crying, mention of "shagging" (just the word used), kissing, saying goodbye, fluff, angst.
"Look," He said softly, brushing the hair away from your face, tucking a strand behind your ear, "It's… complicated…"
You shook your head, "How is it complicated, Bill? I'm in love with you."
"Kid…"
"Don't call me kid!" You exclaimed, your whole body shaking as tears began spilling down your cheeks. Your fists were clenched by your sides as Bill wrapped his arms around you.
After debating whether or not to return the embrace, you felt yourself leaning into his chest as he stroked your hair. His button-up was stained with your tears, but you couldn't care less. Clinging onto him, you allowed the tears to fall, not caring who saw or heard them. And Bill held you, shushing you softly, before lifting you into his arms and carrying you to bed.
Holding you in one arm, Bill pulled back your quilt, setting you down onto the mattress, pulling the fabric back up over you.
By the time your head hit the pillow, you were fast asleep, your chest rising steadily as you sunk into the sheets. Bill climbed into bed beside you, opting to stay above the covers, his hand sliding up and down your side until he was sure you wouldn't wake up.
When you woke up a few hours later, you couldn't bring yourself to open your eyes. Because deep down, you knew he was gone. You could feel it. The emptiness of your bed without him. Your heart ached for him to be back with you, so you did the only thing you knew how to do: you shut down. Burying your head into your pillow, you allowed your sobs to take control over you. But you kept your eyes closed. You knew that if you opened them, you'd see what was right in front of you: an empty space.
Bill walked up the steps of The Burrow, waving his wand and muttering "alohamora" to open the door. Once inside, he slipped out of his cloak, placing it in the closet by the living room. Slipping off his shoes, he made his way up the creaky steps to his room. But he seemed to have forgotten one important detail: he wasn't alone.
Before he could even reach his room, Fred and George appeared before him, pretending to check an imaginary watch and shaking their heads.
"You're late, Billy." Fred said, placing his hands on his hips.
George snickered, "I didn't think Fleur would be the type to keep you out all night."
When Bill didn't respond, Fred let out a gasp, "Unless…"
"You weren't with Fleur." George finished, casting a glance to his twin before shoving his older brother in his room.
Once the three Weasley's were crammed inside Bill's bedroom, the twins ushered their brother to the bed, forcing him to sit.
"Mind telling us what's going on, Billy?" Fred asked, tapping his foot, "Fleur's a very beautiful girl, what is she- one thirty-forth Veela?"
"No, Freddie, a quarter Veela." George smirked, nudging his brother in the ribs.
Fred grinned, "Even better!"
Bill rolled his eyes, "Are you guys done yet?"
"Not until you tell us what's going on."
"Nothing's going on," The eldest Weasley hissed, "And if something were, it wouldn't concern either of you."
Fred raised his brows, "You see, Bill, it does. Because we know exactly what's been happening. You can thank our newest invention for that. An extendable ear. Quite handy, if I do say so myself."
Bill's eyes widened, "What exactly do you know?"
"Oh, no, we're keeping that to ourselves. No need for you to know."
"None of your concern," George quipped, earning a laugh from his brother.
"Tell me!" Bill screamed, his eyes filled with anger, "So help me Godric if you two don't tell me what you know-"
Fred held his hands up, "Woah, woah, Billy, no need to be so hostile."
"We're not telling you anything until you 'fess up. So go ahead and tell us about your little lady friend."
He sighed, laying back on his bed, "You won't give up, will you?"
"Nope," They answered, sitting on the edge of his bed, "Go on, Billy, tell us."
"It all started in my third year…"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Year 2
Bill watched as you waved your wand, sending a blast of fire towards a practice dummy, sending it flying back. A smile spread on his face as you turned towards him, excitedly grinning from ear to ear. Before either of you knew what you were doing, your arms were wrapped around one another, holding each other in a tight embrace.
"You were fantastic, Y/N!' Bill exclaimed, pulling away from the hug, "I reckon we'll be breaking through that cursed ice in no time."
"You really think so?" You asked, gazing up at him through your lashes, feeling the heat on your cheeks.
He nodded, taking your shoulders in his hands and craning his head to be at eye level with you, "You're going to do great things, kid."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Seems innocent enough." Fred said, crossing his arms, "But remind me how much older you are than her?"
"Two years," Bill answered, "We met when I was in my fourth year and she was in her second."
"So you were falling for a twelve year old?" George asked, sticking out his tongue in mock disgust.
He shook his head, "No, it wasn't like that. Not then, at least."
"So when was it like that?" George questioned, raising a brow.
"I'll tell you when I get there," Bill grumbled, "Now let me tell my story…"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Year 2
"Bill!" You exclaimed, rushing over to him to break him free from the ice. His freckled face was turning blue, ice beginning to crawl up his throat.
"Incendio!" You shouted, waving your wand. The ice surrounding him broke away, leaving a shivering Bill who rushed towards you, pressing an innocent kiss to the top of your head as you apologized.
He let out a breathy laugh, rubbing his arms up and down to warm himself, "I'm alright, kid."
"Are you sure?" You asked, voice quivering as you looked him up and down.
Nodding, Bill smiled, "I'm more worried about you, honestly."
"What about me?"
"It's not important, let's get this ice under control, yeah?"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"You never told us you got trapped in ice!" Fred huffed, his forehead creased, "That would've been so much fun!"
"Believe me, it was not."
George smirked, "But you had someone to warm you up…"
"George! She was twelve!"
He held up his hands in mock defeat, "Continue…"
"In our third year, I told her about this girl I liked. Her name was Emily. I claimed to be in love with her, so I tasked Y/N with asking her if I had any chance with her."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Year 3
You clenched your fist, brows furrowed in anger as Emily mocked the Weasley family.
"The Weasley's may be good-looking, but that's about the only thing they're good for," Emily snorted, "They don't have money or manners, and there's too many of them to keep track of for my liking. Honestly-"
"Shut it!" You hissed, stomping your foot into the ground, "The Weasley's are the kindest, most welcoming Wizarding Family I've ever met, and I won't take you dragging their name through the ground! Bill Weasley is a better wizard than you'll ever be. He's kind, he's smart, and talented, and he certainly wouldn't disrespect another family! You don't deserve him, Emily!"
She raised her brows, "Maybe he doesn't deserve me."
"He doesn't deserve to be treated badly by you," Anger flared in your eyes as you spoke, "You're just jealous that he's too good for you."
Emily stuck her nose up, "So be it, I wasn't interested anyway."
The two of you walked separate ways, with her heading towards The Three Broomsticks to gossip and you stomping away with your arms crossed, determined to reveal Emily's true colors to Bill.
But unbeknownst to you, he had heard the whole exchange. Although he was devastated that Emily had broken his heart, he was disappointed that she had disrespected his family, but he couldn't help being proud of you for standing up for him. In that moment, his heart beat faster. You and him… Could it… but he shook the thoughts out of his head. No, it couldn't.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Remind me what her name was?" George said angrily, "I've got some Wildfire Wizbangs coming her way and-"
Bill shook his head, "Good luck getting to her. She'll have your names plastered all over the paper. Works for Rita Skeeter now."
Fred rolled his eyes, "I'd like her to have a piece of my mind… no one talks down on the Weasley's and gets away with it."
"Can I get on with it now?"
The twins nod and their brother continues, "In my sixth year, I had a new feeling… something I hadn't felt before…"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Year 4
As soon as Charlie sauntered into The Three Broomsticks, a model of a dragon clutched in his hands, Bill knew he had made a mistake. Your eyes lit up upon seeing the second-born Weasley brother, and you extended your hand.
Charlie looked down at you awkwardly, shaking your hand with three fingers, "Charlie Weasley."
"My younger brother." Bill interupted, tapping his foot aggressively on the floor.
"Y/N L/N." You smiled, returning your hand to your lap.
As Bill watched you and Charlie talk among yourselves, he was hit with a pang of jealousy. So he threw back butterbeer, hoping the sweet flavor would wash over him and throw his jealousy out the window. But it didn't. It got worse. And all he could do was sit there and watch it happen.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"You're telling me that Y/N had the hots for Charlie?" Fred questioned, staring down at his brother.
Bill groaned, "She swears she didn't, that she doesn't, but in the moment, I got ahead of myself. I was beyond jealous and I couldn't bring myself to realize why."
"Oh, Billy, you're in deep." Fred laughed.
George let out a sigh, "Keep going, Billy, we don't have all night."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Year 5
You chewed at your bottom lip, standing before Bill with your hands clasped behind your back. Your eyes were stinging with tears at the thought of saying goodbye to one of your closest friends. You had known this day would come, but you hadn't been prepared for it.
"Bill, I-" But you were cut off when his arms wrapped around you, enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug. You placed your hands on his bag, tears spilling onto his robes as he rubbed circles into your back.
"Y/N, can I be honest?" He asked, his cheeks a shade of pink.
Nodding, he continued, "Out of all the friends I've made here at Hogwarts, I think I'm going to miss you the most."
"Bill, I'm going to miss you, too," You said through the tears.
He pressed a thumb to your cheek, wiping the droplets away before they could fall down your face.
"You'll visit, won't you?" You asked, "In Hogsmeade?"
"I'll be there," Bill smiled, "But only if you promise to visit the Burrow."
You nodded, a sad smile on your face, "I promise."
Bill looked behind him, watching as students moved towards the exit. Looking back at you, he pressed a kiss to your head, "I'll see you around, kid."
"See you…"
Your heart broke a bit that day, watching him walk away. But nothing could prepare you for what would happen years later.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Year 6
Walking into Defense Against the Dark Arts, you felt a flutter in your chest. For the first time in nearly a year, you'd be able to see Bill Weasley- and you couldn't be happier.
You walked in with a slight skip in your step, Charlie trailing behind you.
Upon pushing the door open, a certain ginger smiled at you, "Miss me, kid?"
Rushing towards him, you practically knocked him to the ground, "More than you know."
It wasn't until Charlie cleared his throat as other students began piling in that the two of you broke away from your embrace, looking nervously in opposite directions.
"Now that the reunion's out of the way, we can move on to the big question: What are you doing here?"
As Bill began explaining, you couldn't help but notice the empty space on his robe. He didn't have his prefect badge anymore. Not that he would, having graduated, but it made your heart sink even further in your chest. Things were changing, too fast.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Not twelve anymore, is she?"
"Shut it, George." Bill huffed, rolling his eyes.
George shook his head, "Really, Bill, two years isn't that bad."
"It's bad when she's in her sixth year and I've already graduated."
"Depends on how you look at it." Fred noted, "So when did you see her next?"
"With dad, actually."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Year 7
"Y/N? Is that you?"
Turning around, you saw a familiar ginger standing behind you, his hair swaying by his shoulders. Within seconds of seeing your face, he was stumbling towards you like a child in Honeydukes, gripping his father's hand and leading him towards you.
After seeing a knowing look on his father's face, Bill let go and cleared his throat, "Y/N, this is my father, Arthur Weasley."
"Bill," You laughed, "We've met."
Turning to Arthur, you smiled, "It's good to see you again, Mr. Weasley."
"Good to see you, too, Miss Y/N."
"So what are you doing here?" Bill asked, searching your eyes for an answer.
You sighed, shaking your head, "It's a long story that I'll explain later. Now, I've got to convince them to allow me in without credentials."
"We can vouch for you, if you'd like." Bill offered, a dreamy smile on his face.
"You'd really do that?"
He nodded, "Anything for you."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Almost forgot she came over on holiday." Fred said, crossing his legs, "She was stunning then, I want to know how she looks now."
Bill grumbled, "She's too old for you, Fred."
"And according to you, too young for you." George quipped, turning to face his brother, "So, tell me, Billy, how exactly did you end up where you are now? You've got the job, you've got a girl, but you keep going back to her. Why?"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It had been four years since you had seen Bill Weasley. And now, seeing him walk into the conference room, cuts littering his arms, you couldn't help but take it all in. He had a fang hanging from one year, his ginger hair was combed back, and he was dressed far nicer than you had remembered.
Once his eyes met yours, he made his way towards you, slipping into a seat beside you as one of the Head Auror rambled on about protecting Gringotts.
The two of you stole small glances at one another during the meeting, which seemed to last for ages. When it was all said and done, your chairs were mere inches away from each other, your hand slipped in his. It was innocent. At least, that's what you kept telling yourself.
It wasn't until you started getting frequent owls from Bill that you started wondering if the two of you had something more.
Your first kiss had happened fast. Bill was going on about Gringotts and how little budgeting they had, on the brink of hyperventilation, when you had pressed a kiss to his lips. You hadn't expected him to lean into it, but you had been wrong. Before either of you knew what was happening, you were pushed up against your desk as he deepened the kiss, your hands running through his hair as he held your face in his hands.
When he had pulled away, he muttered a small goodbye and left without another word.
Not even a month later, he was galivanting around Diagon Alley with Fleur Delacour on his arm.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"That was your own bloody fault, you twat!" George exclaimed, whacking his brother in the stomach.
"Oof!" Bill groaned, propping himself up, "It was a mistake, alright? A big one."
Fred was silent for a moment, a rarity for him, "Which part?"
"What?" Bill asked softly, a frown on his face.
"Kissing her or leaving her?"
He shook his head, "Leaving."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
When you saw Bill a few months later, you could hardly be in the same room as him, let alone look at him. He kept waiting for you to meet his gaze, so he could ask you to speak with him privately, but you never did.
It was until the meeting was over that he barred you from leaving, begging for you to hear him out.
You told him he had a minute to state his case and then you were leaving.
So he used that minute as best he could, "I'm in love with you, Y/N. I always have been. Granted, it took me a while to figure it out, and an even longer time to admit it, but I can't not be with you. We make sense, kid. So few things make sense."
He allowed you to process the words. And next thing you knew, you were kissing him all over again. You knew it was wrong- he was with Fleur. But in that moment you didn't care. He loved you like you loved him. And that was all that mattered.
So when a few months later, he hadn't called things off with her, you were starting to get nervous. You hated the secrecy and betrayal of it all. You felt bad for Fleur, you ached for his company, and you felt sick thinking about the two of them together.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"So are you going to call it off?" George asked with a sigh.
"I dunno," Bill admitted, "I love Y/N more than anything. But I'm scared I'll screw it up again."
Fred rolled his eyes, "You already have. You're shagging the both of them!"
"Fred," Bill warned, "Not now."
"All I'm saying is that you have more history with Y/N. Mum likes her more, anyway. You're her golden child, she'd want you to marry her."
"We're not getting into marriage right now, Fred."
He nodded, "Exactly, not now. But Fleur's a beautiful woman, too, and she'll be waiting for a proposal. You can't keep seeing the both of them. No wonder Y/N's a mess. She's having to share you. And poor Fleur doesn't even know! Look, I'm a bit of an arse-"
"A bit?" Bill interupted, receiving a glare from his brother.
"But I wouldn't do that to a girl. Any girl. Make it right, Bill."
The twins left shortly after, leaving their words behind. Bill layon his bed, staring up at his ceiling and then at his nightstand. A picture of you was haphazardly framed on the top, a bright smile on your face as you drank butterbeer.
He had to make a decision, and he had to make one fast.
#bill weasley#Bill Weasley#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#fanfiction#harry potter imagines#bill weasley x you#bill weasley x y/n#bill#bill weasley x reader#bill weasley one shot#bill weasley imagine#theseus x reader#hp fanfic#hogwarts mystery#jacob's sibling#bill weasley x jacob's sibling
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Hey Buried Lovers,
Just a little birthday something for you. Hope you’re all surviving September - all is busy but good for me - looking forward to some quieter times and getting back to writing! ❤️
The Party
Alex clears his throat and looks around the dome, running his hand through his hair.
“Do you think we’ve got enough balloons?”
Zein snorts and kicks their foot at one of the balloons now bouncing around on the ground. “Alex, if we had any more balloons I think this place would start floating to the surface.”
Alex grins sheepishly. “Ok, I accept I might have gone overboard.”
Balloons are floating around in the air. Some rising to the top of the dome, but others hovering in mid air, or bouncing their way along the ground.
Rota eyes them suspiciously. “Why aren’t these strange orbs following the laws of gravity?”
“That would be one of those questions it’s better not to ask,” Eli playfully bats one of the balloons with his hand as he walks past everyone and makes a beeline to the bar.
“A more important question is what drinks am I going to mix tonight? I feel like trying something new. Something spicy?”
Aayush raises an eyebrow but says nothing, instead walking through the swirling mass of balloons, somehow managing to avoid touching a single one. He lays down on a sun lounger and closes his eyes.
“Aayush!” Fleur calls out, “aren’t you supposed to be on outfit duty? There’s no time for relaxing!”
Aayush smiles and waves his hand. A sea of balloons parts to show a clothing rack with beautiful outfits hanging off of it. Fleur squeals as she runs over and picks up a hanger that has a label with her name written on it. A dress that looks like it’s made from thousands of delicate lilac petals hangs from it. “It’s perfect! Aayush how did you find these…?”
Aayush smiles. “You don’t get to live through all of the ages without getting a certain sense of style. This will be the best dressed party this dome will ever see. Guaranteed.”
Abe appears carrying trays of food. He looks wholly uncomfortable as he looks around the dome. “Where am I putting these?” He looks to Fleur who has assumed the role of party coordinator.
Fleur points to some tables over to the side of the pool. “Over there next to Cerri. While you’re over there could you ask her to go and throw all of the inflatables into the pool? It’s going to look so cute.”
Abe swallows and looks like he’s been asked to fight a bear, but he nods obediently and walks over to Cerri who is glowering at everything happening around her.
“Uh Cerri,” he starts, his deep voice shaking ever so slightly. “Fleur asked if you could get the pool ready? Uh. Please.”
Cerri rolls her eyes but doesn’t protest and wanders over to Cat who is standing proudly surveying a menagerie of inflatable pool animals.
“Cerri! Hey! Help me get these in the water will you?”
Cerri grunts but picks up a giant flamingo and throws it through the air with ease, watching as it lands in the pool with a splash. Cat smiles. “Finally an outlet for all that tension, huh?”
Cerri responds by throwing an inflatable panda.
Cat laughs quietly and walks slowly over to Alex, placing an arm around his shoulder. “Wow, when you were put in charge of balloons you really went for it, huh?”
Rota interjects, “I believe there may be more orbs in here than there are stars in the sky.”
Alex starts to protest but instead closes his mouth and his eyes rest on a point in the distance. Everyone turns to see what he’s seen, their eyes all fixed on one thing that has just entered the party.
You.
#buried love drabble#buried love#interactive fiction#alex buried love#aayush buried love#abe buried love#cerri buried love#rota buried love#catarina buried love#eli buried love#fleur buried love#zein buried love
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Chronotopia Update - Build 1.05
Hello everyone, we hope you’ve been enjoying Chronotopia’s story so far! Ever since release, we’ve been gradually fixing issues so we advise updating your version of the game. Here’s a summary:
One reviewer noted a lack of content warnings despite the game’s heavy subject matters. Since this is an oversight on our part, we added a warning with this update. Upon launching the game for the first time, the warning will stay on-screen until the player takes action to ensure it will be less likely to be accidentally skipped. A detailed list is also available on this page (be aware that it contains spoilers for the full game).
One player reported to us that the Archivist achievement would not trigger, preventing 100% completion. We applied a solution that had an unexpected side effect. Some players would randomly unlock the achievement without even completing the Archives or opening said menu. So we hurried to find another solution. The issue should be solved now.
After a player pointed out to us that there was no room for mistake to trigger the Fleur’s Goodwill achievement, we’ve decided to lower the requirements by one point.
We fixed some typos that have been reported to us or that we noticed during Youtube/Twitch playthroughs.
We changed the names of several backers in the credits, as per their request.
We also fixed a couple of minor bugs:
The farm minigame would sometimes not be skipped on a second playthrough (exposing why it was restricted in the first place).
If the player skipped dialogues fast enough, unnamed music tracks would appear in the "Currently Playing" pop-up, crashing the game.
In one scene of the demo, Kionna’s sprite would appear on top of Nahima’s instead of the wanted position.
In some cases, only one variation of the Dead End would trigger (the one appearing in the Buried Alive scene), creating confusion as to Nahima’s fate.
Thank you again for the lovely Steam reviews and the support ❤️. We would almost be hitting 10 reviews by now if press keys/developer keys counted but, unfortunately, they don’t. Steam rules are impenetrable sometimes.
That being said, don’t hesitate to report bugs & typos directly to us so we can fix those in the next updates!
#visual novel#traumendes madchen#gamedev#chronotopia#english visual novel#yuri#otome game#otome#fairytale#donkeyskin
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Qui ne risque rien n’a rien [ Fleur Delacour x Hermione Granger ]
Fandom: Harry Potter
Ship: Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger
Warnings: Mention of death
Rating: T
Words: 800
Summary:
Trainee Healer Hermione Granger has a bad day at work. Attending Healer Delacour helps, and then Fleur does. In my head this happens in the same universe as this other fic but there's no need to read it for this to make sense (I hope!). Written for the prompt "Desk" at @sapphicmicrofics.
AO3 LINK
As with many things in life, Hermione knows failure more from reading about it than from experiencing it first-hand. It's so rare for her to be unprepared — to simply not know what to do, and then make the wrong choice when she tries to play it by ear — that all she can do is fall back on the quotes she's memorised through the years. Lines about learning from mistakes, and failure being an inevitable stepping stone in the quest towards excellence, and falling being only an excuse to get back on your feet again.
They don't help.
"None of the usual signs were there, Miss Granger." Hermione barely registers Fleur's words, she's so busy replaying her previous sentence ("Time of death, 13:21") on a loop. "He didn't mention having eaten anything. Anyone would have treated for a hex before a poison. I would have treated for a hex too."
Hermione presses her lips together and keeps looking at the wizard on the table even as two nurses carefully pull a white sheet up and over his head.
"There had to be something. I missed something." Things don't just happen. People like to toss around words like 'inevitable' and 'unknown cause' and 'undetectable' but the truth is they just don't want to admit they don't know everything. It's easier to say something is unknowable than to accept you failed to know enough. "I should have known what to look for."
"Nobody knows everything, Miss Granger." Fleur doesn't deny Hermione's words, and she's not sure whether she loves her or hates her for it. "You know more now than you did before he came in. This is how you learn."
"But if I had known what to—"
"Miss Granger." Fleur's tone shifts ever so slightly, and it's enough to make Hermione look away from the body under the bed sheet and into her attending's eyes. It's not Fleur looking at her right now. It's Healer Delacour. "You will make more mistakes, and you will become an excellent healer. Or you can go hide in a library and memorise all the books in the world. You will know everything but you will have done nothing."
Hermione feels herself nod, just because it's hard to disagree with Fleur when she uses that tone.
"Qui ne risque rien n’a rien," Fleur says like it means something to Hermione, "and there are other patients in need now. On y va, Miss Granger."
Fleur — Healer Delacour — is right, as it's so often the case. There are other patients. Patients she does save. And they don't quite dull the pain of knowing she didn't save the first one, but they do keep her from falling down a rabbit hole of guilt and self-flagellation.
As much as she wishes she'd been allowed to go straight to St. Mungo's research library to bury herself in books about rare potions and unusual signs and symptoms, she must admit that would only have made it worse. She's here to learn, and she's here to heal, and that's exactly what she does for the rest of her shift.
It's almost midnight when she finally makes it home, body tired and mind full of thoughts she knows will arrange themselves in the least convenient way when she tries to sleep. In fact, she can already feel them shifting as she turns the key in her door — apparating is convenient, but she likes the comfort of entering her flat the muggle way — and steps inside.
"Your shift ended two hours ago."
Fleur's unexpected (though hardly uncommon or unwelcome) presence in her flat obliterates the first budding signs of impostor syndrome before they can fully appear in Hermione's mind.
"I wanted to work for a little while longer." Hermione follows the sound of Fleur's voice towards the bedroom and finds her sitting at Hermione's desk, wand pointed at her Hermione's mug as steam begins to rise from the water within.
"Good," Fleur says, voice soft and warm and so utterly Fleur and not Healer Delacour that Hermione's knees wobble a little bit, "it's good that you stayed."
"Have you been waiting here since the end of your shift?"
Fleur shakes her head and pushes herself back from the desk, and that's all the invitation Hermione needs to sit on her girlfriend's lap. The mug is warm between her tired hands and Fleur's arms are even warmer around her waist, and her world immediately rights itself in a way that makes her realise just how off it had been before.
"I went to the library and borrowed some books," Fleur says, and it's only then that Hermione notices the heavy tomes on her desk. Thousands of pages on rare potions and unusual signs and symptoms waiting to be read. "Would you like to learn with me?"
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My Favorite VG Fanfics
I might've already done this a couple weeks ago, but whatever. It's Fan Week now, so I want to celebrate the fanworks that have buried themselves deep in my brain.
Anything by @silverfactory - their fics are the first that I can remember being completely enraptured by. The reason I made an ao3 account in the first place was so that I could reread their works. The Jack-in-childhood fic fleur du mal lives in my head rent-free, and Saint Elmo's Fire is a fantastic Jack and Mandy "meet-cute" with wonderful rough-around-the-edges beauty.
Anything by @moonage-xx-daydream, who has captured my favorite characters in the most beautiful way. Finding Not Keeping's the Lesson is a masterpiece, and I have a very soft spot in my heart for Shiver and Sing. They consistently churn out incredible work! (Shout-out to their husband for providing breathtaking art as well!)
raise my feelings (one more time) by @holy-loki - just an absolutely flawless Curt character study, with the most heart-wrenching, gorgeous, and tongue-in-cheek language.
Mojo Pin by @ant1christsuperstar - the definitive Berlin fic. So tragic, but so wholesome amidst the tragedy. Everyone is depicted so perfectly (and Malcolm especially really shines in this work). My favorite chapters are the Curt and Mandy interactions, and there are some moments between them that I just constantly think about.
Baggage by micehell - one of my absolute favorite Curt/Arthur fics, because it acknowledges the work they both have to put into their relationship. There's a moment in this fic that CRACKS my heart in pieces every single time. It feels so real and so sweet. Micehell has literally dozens of VG fics on ao3 - doing the LORD'S WORK for all of us.
Raised by Wolves by what_alchemy - I reread this fic all the time. Curt, after the movie, reckoning with his past and building a life with Arthur. Jack London references abound. The story culminates in a realization of Ewan McGregor's tweet about where Curt and Arthur end up, and everything leading up to it makes it feel all the more earned.
now i hope it's forever by bossymarmalade is one of my favorite 1980s Mandy fics. This one is about Mandy and Curt reconciling after the events of the movie, and it is short but absolutely delicious. They speak in poetry to each other, which is so in-canon of them. It's so well-done and feels like exactly what they might do and say in this moment.
Old by tornyourdress is ALSO one of my favorite post-Brian Mandy studies, again with some Mandy/Curt. It's so heavy and soaked in the past. Angsty, resigned, but still ringed with strength and hopefulness.
it's a nice day to start again by zhooshybat - another one of my favorite 1980s-Mandy fics. It's so much more than that, though - Curt and Mandy protecting each other in the Tommy Stone era, Mandy reflecting on her past, a wonderful Arthur/Curt/Mandy relationship. So good!
There are a million more I could list - I've probably read every VG fic on ao3 (and on whatever other sites I could find) multiple times over - but I'll leave it at this for now. I'd love to hear everyone else's recommendations. Let's celebrate the incredible contributions the Velvet Goldmine fans make!
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Dunno if it will work, but Weylyn fluff with this song? (Perfectly Imperfect - Declan Donovan)
So call me when you want me and I'll come running
Find me waiting at your door
So tell me if you're lonely and it won't last long
'Cause I'm in love with you (you)
~•~•~
And at the sound of crashing items and aggressive thumps Weylyn comes running.
He nearly slips as he stops at the doorway, grabbing the frame for support as he steadies himself. His eyes look up, seeing nothing but an assortment of thrown books and notebooks, your pencil case and its items in various places around the empty classroom, some chairs and tables moved out of its place aggressively.
And you are in the middle of it, sitting on the floor and with teary eyed rage.
"You okay?" Weylyn asks, which you look at him with the glare you held.
"Does it look like I am?" You sneer, sniffing and looking away.
A soft chuckle leaves Weylyn's lips as he walks over. "I apologize for asking then." He sits down beside you, his signature worried look on his face. "What's wrong?"
Nothing was its reply for a while.
Weylyn still sits, patiently waiting for an answer that may or may not come.
"It's okay if you don't want to tell me now." He reassures after a minute or so has passed, a matching smile to accompany his words.
Even if you are facing away from him.
"Is there anything I can do to help you?" He offers as the silence stretches on a bit longer.
...
"Hold me." Your voice comes out, cracked, broken and wavering. You look at him, the fire of rage long faded out, only to be replaced by a person so worn out and tired. "Please."
An arm reaches around your shoulders, pulling you close to a body full of warmth and love and kindness and everything you can't ever hope to be.
He's perfect in every single way.
And you aren't.
You often question yourself why he would ever spend time with someone like you, who's so broken and fragile and cracked in unfixable places that are visible for everyone to see.
You hate it, being in this position again.
And you want to lash and scream and shout in your spite and anger at yourself for existing like this.
Weylyn rests his chin on top of your head, which you now realize is now leaning onto his chest, and he hums a small tune. It's not melodic or heavenly like Fleur's or Zephyrine's, but... it's enough.
Comforting and sweet.
...
Ah, this is a taste of the heavens, isn't it?
"I don't really know what happened," Weylyn began after a moment, "but just know that things are going to be okay. Maybe not today, but tomorrow it will."
You said nothing in response and Weylyn didn't seem to mind, going back to gently humming whatever tune that came to mind.
You turn your face to his chest, burying your face in it as you loosely wrap your arms around his waist. A gentle hand rubs your back in comfort as the humming continues.
"Thank you." You softly utter, and you feel his hold tighten just a bit more.
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Chapter Thirty: Carmine.
Summary: Wilhemina Venable felt it was finally time to leave Kineros Robotics and get a job with people who weren’t such morons like Jeff and Mutt. What she didn’t expect, however, was for her new boss to be so damn insufferable. She didn’t expect to fall in love with her, either.
Tag List: @mayfair-fleur @mistysswampmud @paulsonsratched @msvenablx @notmeellaannyy @rwoolfe @golddustdykes @lovingsarah @slut-for-sarah(message me to be added if interested!)
“What is it?” Billie Dean squeezed Venable’s waist a little, encouraging her to keep going. But Wilhemina didn’t say anything. So, Billie snuggled just a tiny bit closer. “Wilhie…” Her hand fell a little to Venable’s back, causing Wilhemina to let go of it and rest it on Billie Dean’s hip. And then, there they were. And that was organic, natural, wanted. So Wilhemina only closed the gap, hand slipping to Billie’s back and pulling her into a hug. Billie Dean blinked in surprise, but gladly held Venable in her arms, had caressing her lower back while she felt Wilhemina’s caressing up closer to her neck. Red hair tinted the pillows and brushed against Billie’s face, and in that moment Venable allowed herself to just be; she rested her forehead on Billie Dean’s neck, smelling Floratta Blue mixed with her own lavender. What a beautiful combination. Billie stayed there, heart beating fast, hand caressing the soft cloth of Venable’s pajamas. She took a deep breath, nose burying into red hair. I will soon love that woman. Billie Dean could feel it, deep inside her chest. A minute passed, then two. And Venable didn’t think it would be possible for her to ever feel relaxed with her body against another person’s like that; so vulnerable, with the walls so low. But she did. And sleep crawled inside a little more until Billie Dean heard a faint snore. She’s asleep. Wilhemina Venable had fallen asleep in her arms. Not falling for that woman was a hard task.
When the morning arrived, sun rays creeped inside the purple bedroom through the gaps of the curtain. Billie Dean was the first one to stir from her slumber—the house was, after all, a foreign place so far. Even though she opened her eyes, Billie didn’t move any other muscle; Wilhemina was hugging her from behind, tightly, nearly clinging onto her as if she were afraid Billie Dean would leave in the middle of the night. Billie wouldn’t dare disrupting such a precious thing. Wilhemina’s arms held her by the waist, and Billie Dean was quite sure she could feel the nearly unnoticeable movement of Venable’s body as her lungs filled with air time and time again. She’s tight against me. In a matter of seconds, Billie was well awake. As she took a deep breath, Billie Dean allowed one of her hands to gently trace the skin of Venable’s arm on top her waist; she followed the path of her delicate veins, of her skin and knuckles, fingertips barely brushing over the expanse. Honey eyes closed again, focusing on how utterly comforting it felt to be held like that, by someone she trusted. Yes, Billie Dean had shared a bed with her fair share of women, but one night stands were just that: one night stands. Wilhemina Venable… she was something else. My chest feels so full. It was all too sweet and too bitter at the same time… had Emma ever woken up like that? In Venable’s arms? In that moment, Billie Dean decided that if she had, it simply didn’t matter. Eventually, Billie let her hand rest on top of Wilhemina’s and caressed it with her thumb. Her ears picked on the sound of the birds outside, on the light snores Venable let out, on the lovely lavender scent of the bedroom and on the velvety feeling of the blanket on top of them. How was it possible that everything was so entirely Wilhemina? Lost in her thoughts, Billie Dean’s eyes opened when she heard Venable’s breathing change. Soon, the arm on top of her didn’t feel so heavy. At first, Wilhemina’s mind jumped to Purpura; she assumed it was her she was cuddling, but Purpura seemed to had gotten way bigger than she was the night before, and her skin didn’t feel quite the same. And so, slowly but surely, Venable’s conscious downed down, and she held herself not to flinch way because it felt oh so good to hold someone like that after so damn long. Specially when that someone was Billie Dean. Her cheeks tinted. Venable gulped, wondering if Billie was still asleep until she felt the soft caress of her thumb on her skin. And her ears began to buzz from nervousness and excitement and something else she couldn’t quite point to. With her heart struggling not to come out of her mouth, Wilhemina closed her eyes and rested her head against Billie Dean’s spine, right on the spot where her own resembled roots way more than bones. She took a deep breath. And Billie Dean could feel her legs wanting to turn into something awfully similar to jello when Wilhemina pulled her closer. Gladly, she scooted back. Their bodies glued together. What are we doing? Billie Dean couldn’t help but wonder.
“Hello,” Wilhemina murmured, low and with a hint of shyness.
Billie Dean smiled to herself, thumb still caressing Venable’s hand. “Hi.” She bit her lower lip. I’m so confused.
Venable took another deep breath, searching for tones of Floratta Blue between all the lavender. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this safe around someone. Olivia didn’t count; they were both children. “How did you sleep?” She kept her face buried onto Billie’s body, holding her close. She’s pressed against me. Something in her lower stomach twisted; Wilhemina ignored it.
“Very good, thank you.” Billie gulped, for her tongue seemed to had gotten thicker inside her mouth. Their conversation was so casual, yet it felt nothing similar to normal; not with the way they were right now. “What about you?”
Wilhemina’s fingers caressed the spot of Billie Dean’s stomach where they lay, on top of the pajamas. The muscles there weren’t as defined as Emma’s, and it just caused Venable to feel even more comfortable. One of her digits found a gap on the fabric, right where the buttons met, and for a second she felt the soft texture of Billie’s smooth skin against her fingertips. Her stomach twisted again. She quickly avoided that spot. “M-me too.”
Billie’s whole body shivered. I’m playing with fire. But she didn’t want to stop. And she definitely wanted to get burned. So, with delicate movements, she turned around. And her eyes met Wilhemina’s, faces close, breaths mingling. Her arm wrapped around Venable, caressing her lower back while she felt Wilhemina’s around herself, caressing her spine. She smiled, bright and honest. “You’re gorgeous,” she whispered before she could stop herself. Venable in the morning with bed hair and a clean face was becoming one of her favorite sights, even if she had only seen it twice.
Now, eye to eye to Billie Dean, everything seemed way more real. I’m holding her. We’re cuddling. This is happening. Nervousness crawled into her skin. And all of a sudden, Wilhemina was painfully reminded of everything that had happened the night before; of her dream, of Emma, of every single feeling and thought she had. I’m a failure. “I’m not.”
Blonde eyebrows drew closer as Billie Dean frowned. Venable’s voice had changed to a tone she had seen before; one of despair, one that carried pain. “Yes, you are.” Slowly, she reached to tuck a lock of red hair behind Wilhemina’s ear.
Venable watched Billie closely; she noticed the way her eyes moved over her own features, the way she took in every detail of her own face. And Gosh, how did that woman find her beautiful when she looked in the mirror every single day? “I think that’s you.”
A chuckle left Billie’s lips. She shook her head, and the hand previously on Wilhemina’s hair now caressed her lower back again. “You need to accept my compliments,” she said sweetly, playfully.
Wilhemina was struggling to keep the derogatory thoughts away. The nightmare from last night was lucid in her brain, screaming and doing whatever it could to be heard. She focused on the honey eyes in front of her, the calm between the storm. “I will when they’re true.”
Billie Dean let out playful gasp. “Are you calling me a liar?”
The light atmosphere Billie carried seemed like light in the darkness; it kept the monsters away. A small, faint chuckle left Wilhemina’s lips. “No, I just think you’re too nice sometimes.” She shifted in bed, for her hips were hurting from the pressure, and when she settled down again, her legs had slightly intertwined with Billie Dean’s. Oh God. This is close.
“Nonsense.” Billie Dean reached to play with a lock of red hair, twirling it gently between her fingers. Wilhemina hummed, and Billie let one of her feet caress Venable’s calf. What am I doing? She didn’t know. She actually had no idea. But they were staring at each other, and for the first time Wilhemina wanted to be touched; not sexually, just in general. She wanted Billie Dean’s hands on her waist, on her hair, on her face… she wanted Billie Dean.
After a second of silence, Venable licked her lips. “Aren’t you ashamed of being my friend?”
Where did that come from? Billie struggled to make the internal shift of subjects. “Why would I be?”
Nervously, Wilhemina shrugged. Why did I even ask that? The hand on Billie’s lower back played with her pajamas. Her eyes fell down to Billie Dean’s neck, a safer place to look at. “My cane,” she nearly whispered. “And the purple…” Wilhemina was no fool; she was aware of how weird people thought her choice of colors were. She herself would find it odd hadn’t she been the one doing it. But she had her reasons, and she wasn’t ready to let go of them.
In all honesty, the thought of being ashamed had never once crossed Billie Dean’s mind. Yes, the purple was something that caught people’s attention—including hers—but Billie was used to attention. Besides, it was far from being the weirdest thing she had ever seen. “Your cane is something no one should ever be ashamed of,” Billie Dean started, voice soft and sweet but still firm. “Including yourself. There’s nothing wrong with it.” How could Wilhemina be so bashful of herself? Where was the kindness? The patience she deserved? It saddened Billie. “And you rock the purple. A monochromatic look has its values.” The words got Billie Dean a faint twist of the corners of Wilhemina’s lips, and an even fainter chuckle. Dark brown eyes met honey ones.
“I wish I could think like you do…”
“Me too.” The fingers twirling Wilhemina’s hair now rested on Venable’s cheek; Billie cupped it, thumb tracing the bone. Gently, Wilhemina leaned against her palm. This is dangerous. They were too close, too personal. And still, Billie Dean wanted more. She licked her lips as she thought, and her eyes fell down to Venable’s nose… then to her lips. They were plump. Very. I can’t take this anymore. She took a deep, shaky breath. “Wilhemina… I…”
“Yes?” Venable breathed out, and her stomach twisted more and more.
Honey eyes got back to dark brown ones, which stared expectantly at her. This is not fair. To whom? Billie Dean wasn’t sure. And then her eyes flickered down once again, this time to Wilhemina’s neck and to the bruises there. The spell was lifted. I can’t. “You never, um, told me about your date.” Date. How bitter were these words?
“Oh…” Whatever Venable had been expecting the words to be, these were definitely not it. She blinked once. Then twice. “It was—it was good.” She leaned back more towards the pillow than to Billie Dean’s hand. Billie got the clue and let her hand rest back against Venable’s waist. “She didn’t do anything bad, by the way…”
Billie Dean nodded slowly. “I’m not sure I believe that.”
Something’s changed. Billie’s eyes had shifted. Wilhemina looked away. “I… she didn’t do anything… I—I’m the problem, you know that.”
So something did bother her. Billie Dean shook her head. “No, you’re not.”
Venable bit her lower lip. I’m so fucking stupid. Billie would laugh at her when she told her what had happened; she would think she was overreacting, she’d call her immature and square and many things else… Wilhemina couldn’t tell her what had happened. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You never want to talk about Emma.” This time, Billie Dean’s tongue was quicker than her brain.
“Well, yes. It’s none of your business,” Wilhemina snapped. Billie Dean looked at her like she had been hit by a brick. Instantly, Venable regretted ever saying anything, and the arm around herself stiffened and the caresses on her leg stopped.
Honey eyes looked down. “You’re right.” Billie Dean pulled away to get up. “I should get going.” She had been worried sick about Venable; had been thinking and wishing everything was alright with her, and that’s how Wilhemina treated her? After everything they had talked and everything they had shared, the coldness of the answer was like a slap right across the face.
“What—Billie,” Venable called, sitting up as she watched Billie Dean pulling the covers away from herself. “Billie Dean, stop it.” Dark brown eyes grew in size; they kept glued on Billie, glued to her every movement. She looked hurt. “Billie, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean it.”
“Yes, you did.” Billie Dean got up and turned to face the bed, eyes on Venable. “And honestly, that’s alright. It’s none of my business, indeed. I just thought we were past that—past these walls, past this tiptoeing around.” Billie knew her reaction could be seen as exaggerated; she herself didn’t fully agree with the way she was acting, but it was how she felt. Things were on the edge inside herself, and Gosh she was just confused. She craved an intimacy she knew she could not have, and it just took things to another level of intensity. But she wasn’t satisfied with her words, and so she decided she wanted to keep talking. And keep talking she did. “I worry about you. I ask you about Emma because you’re my friend, and I thought I was a friend to you, too. I don’t want you to go through anything similar to what I did.”
“Y-you are.” Wilhemina gulped. The way Billie Dean spoke to her left her feeling small, and she absolutely hated feeling small. “Why do you have such a bad perspective of her?” The question was honest, but perhaps the moment wasn’t the most adequate to ask such a thing.
Billie Dean scoffed in disbelief. She wanted to cry, and she didn’t even know why. “A bad perspective?” She repeated incredulously, and Wilhemina only then realized she should have waited to ask that question in another time. “When have I ever talked badly about Emma to you?”
“That is not what I asked.” Venable’s walls were starting to raise up. She squeezed the sheets in her hands. “You just seem to think she’ll hurt me every single time I’m with her.” She was back at being cold and collected.
“Because I care about you!” Billie Dean’s voice reached a tone she rarely ever used. I can’t do this. She covered her face with her palms and took a deep breath.
Wilhemina gulped quietly as she watched Billie. I don’t know what to do. What had happened all of a sudden? She’ll go away. She’ll never look at me again. I’ll lose the only person I have. Venable looked down at her hands, which now nervously played with the sheets. She didn’t want Billie Dean to leave. She didn’t want Billie Dean to ever feel anything bad towards her, and she was actually willing to climb over her walls for it. But how should she proceed? How did friends get over those arguments? How did any of that worked? Struggling to lift the rock of her own emotions, Venable took a deep breath. “Billie… I’m sorry. I am,” her voice was still collected, but it carried hints of softness, now. She watched as Billie Dean let her hands fall down beside her body, eyes on the floor. “I… I’ve told y-you I’m learning… I snap when I don’t k-know what to say, or when I feel things I don’t want to feel.” Billie nodded slowly. Wilhemina nervously licked her lips. “I’ve been alone f-for a long time… I d-don’t remember—or rather know—h-how it is to be cared about. But I don’t w-want you to ever doubt h-how much I appreciate you.” This time, honey eyes slowly lifted up to meet dark brown ones. Wilhemina smiled sadly. “Please don’t leave… let me cook you breakfast… let me cook you lunch, or order something you want… a-and we can talk about Emma… I… I’ll t-tell you about what happened yesterday.” This time, it was Venable who looked away. She’ll think I’m even more of a failure than she already does.
How could Billie Dean ever deny Wilhemina anything? How could she possibly do that when Venable opened up more and more and more with each day and each conversation they had with one another? Wilhemina’s ways weren’t perfect, but neither were her own. And Venable had been consistent; had been honest, had been meaning what she said. Once again, Billie Dean realized just why she was falling for that woman. After a second, she opened a tiny, faint smile. “You know food is my weakness…”
A relieved chuckle escaped Wilhemina’s lips. “I’m learning.”
Billie Dean nodded. She gently sat back down on the bed, and with much hesitation reached to squeeze one of Venable’s hands. “I appreciate you apologizing… and I’m sorry if I pry.”
“You don’t.” Quickly, Wilhemina shook her head. She squeezed Billie’s hand and tangled their fingers together. “You don’t… I just—I have a hard time with… with a few subjects…”
Billie Dean nodded. “I understand… so do I.”
“But you manage so easily…”
“I do, now…”
Wilhemina looked at their hands. She caressed Billie’s with her thumb, watching the way her beautiful coral nails contrasted with pale skin. “I’m learning,” she repeated after a second.
“I know.” Their eyes met. And they just stayed there for a moment, staring at each other; a silent agreement.
All of a sudden, Purpura jumped on the bed and meowed towards Wilhemina, which cut their trance. Venable looked over at her, smiling softly. “Hi, darling.” She reached to caress the cat’s soft skin with her free hand. Purpura purred as she climbed closer to Wilhemina, leaning against her hand. “Are you hungry?” The cat meowed again. Purpura looked up at Billie Dean, slowly approaching her. Venable chuckled as she let go of her hand.
“Hi, lovely.” Billie smiled to herself and allowed the cat to smell her hand, soon petting her head. Purpura purred loudly as she climbed over Billie Dean’s lap. “Comfortable?” She giggled.
“Oh, she likes you a lot.” The smile on Venable’s face couldn’t get any bigger even if she tried.
“I like her a lot, too.” Billie Dean kept on caressing the cat, feeling her paws massaging the place they lay on her thighs. Loud purrs kept on filling the room. “She’s adorable.”
“She is.” Venable had never expected Purpura to be a fan of Billie Dean so quickly, but something about it warmed her heart. It felt right, and Wilhemina felt oddly validated. Billie is safe. Venable reached for a hair tie on her bedside table and began to pull her hair up. Normally, she’d brush her locks and make sure her ponytail was just perfect, but today… today she had more important things to look at rather than her own face at the mirror.
From the corner of her eye, Billie Dean watched Venable; she hadn’t brushed her hair nor teeth yet, didn’t have a single drop of makeup on her face, nor had worried about looking good so far… and yet, Billie couldn’t stop staring at her. Couldn’t stop wanting to just desperately kiss her lips. Couldn’t stop thinking she was the most beautiful creature that had ever walked on Earth. I like her more than I should. “You look good with your hair up,” she commented softly.
Wilhemina reached to fix her ponytail. “You think?” She knew she had a few strands of hair poking out and that her hair didn’t look nearly as good as she liked it. “It’s a mess right now.”
Billie Dean shook her head. “I think it looks gorgeous.”
A faint blush invaded Venable’s cheeks. She let her hands fall down beside her body again and offered Billie a small smile. “Thank you, then.”
Billie nodded. She was glad Wilhemina hadn’t denied nor seemed to doubt the compliment right now. Honey eyes moved down to Purpura, and she scratched between her ears. “Her skin is very soft.”
“I moisturize it quite regularly,” Venable explained.
“You’re very caring.”
“She deserves it.” Wilhemina reached for her cane and got up. Purpura looked at her. “Are you hungry?” The cat meowed. She chuckled. “Come on.” Quickly, Purpura crawled off of the bed. Billie chuckled as she got up as well to follow Venable. When they got into the kitchen, Wilhemina reached for Purpura’s dry food and filled her bowl. “What would you like for breakfast?” She asked when she turned to look at Billie Dean.
“Anything is fine, really.”
Venable hummed. She opened her cabinet and looked over the options; Billie always had the best options of food available, and so she deserved nothing less of it. “Pancakes?”
“Won’t it be too much trouble?” The last thing Billie Dean wanted was to bother.
“Nonsense.” Venable reached to grab the box of pancake mix. “I have some sprinkles and strawberries, as well as syrup. Is that good?”
“It’s perfect.”
You’re perfect. Wilhemina ignored the thought. She smiled to herself and let out a nod. “Pancakes it is, then.”
“Pancakes it is,” Billie Dean repeated. With a chuckle, Venable grabbed the pan and the mix, and then she washed her hands before turning the heat of the stove. “How can I help?” Billie asked. It felt wrong to be standing there doing nothing.
The way Billie Dean had asked the question didn’t make her feel any less, unlike what had happened with Emma the night before. Venable shoved the realization aside. Wilhemina placed the pan on the stove and pointed to one of the counters. “Can you grab a big plate, please?”
“Sure.” Quickly, Billie reached to do so. She placed it beside Venable on the counter and watched as she skillfully cut the dough open and waited for the pan to heat up. When it was hot enough, Wilhemina poured some of the dough there and waited to flip it. She did everything with so much ease… or perhaps it was jus that Billie Dean was so absolutely awful in the kitchen. In no more than a minute, Venable already had the first pancake perfectly rounded on the plate. “You’re so good at this.”
“At what?” Venable poured more of the dough.
“Making pancakes…” Billie Dean couldn’t help but laugh at her own words. Wilhemina let out a chuckle back and turned to look at her, espatula in hand. And then there they stood, making pancakes together, bodies close. How is it to live with her? It scared Billie Dean how much she wanted to know.
“Practice makes perfect,” Wilhemina said softly. Hesitantly, she turned back to flip the other pancake. Her palms had begun to sweat, and the smell of fresh dough mixed and matched with Floratta Blue now. Maybe I don’t have to always be alone…
“I should try it sometime.” Billie eyed the small of Venable’s back. Would it be too weird to rest her hand there right now?
“Here.” Venable stepped aside and handed her the espatula. “Put this one onto the plate and try it.”
“What—now?”
“Yes.”
Hesitantly, Billie Dean stepped closer to the stove. “I’ll mess it up.”
Wilhemina accepted no messes, no errors… but it was Billie Dean. And Billie was allowed to be a little messy in her house. “It’s just pancakes.” It was, after all.
With a hum, Billie concentrated on picking the pancake off of the pan and putting it onto the plate. It nearly fell down, but she managed. Wilhemina chuckled beside her. “I told you.”
“Mhm.” Venable smiled to herself. “Now try making one from scratch.”
Billie nodded and reached for the dough. Carefully, she began to pour it on the pan; it formed a weird shape that resembled anything but a circle. “Shit,” she laughed.
“It’s too thin,” Wilhemina chuckled back. “Put some more.”
Billie Dean did as she was told, and the shape got even weirder. Her cheeks blushed. “I’m simply not made for cooking.”
“Nonsense, I think it looks good.” It absolutely didn’t. When had Venable ever lied before? Was it even a lie? Anything Billie did was good enough.
“Come on,” Billie Dean laughed. “It does not.” She reached to flip it, but the added dough was still a little raw and, when she did it, dough flew onto the stove. Billie gasped. “Fuck—I’m so sorry!”
I just cleaned it. Venable squeezed the cane. It’s just a stove. She looked to Billie Dean, and suddenly the stove simply didn’t matter anymore. “It’s okay.”
“I’ll clean it for you.”
“Billie, it’s okay,” Wilhemina insisted. She looked back at the pancake. “You’re eating this one,” she teased.
A nervous chuckle left Billie Dean’s lips. “Fair.”
Venable smiled to herself. This is good. “Wait a little to put it onto the plate.” Billie nodded yet again. When the pancake seemed to be more of a golden shade, she carefully transferred it to the plate. “Grab the dough,” Wilhemina told her. Billie grabbed the box. “Can I help you?”
“Yes.”
Carefully, Venable stepped closer and reached for Billie’s arm. She lifted it up and began to pour the dough right in the middle of the pan. “You need to let it fall all on the same spot,” she said softly. The hair on the back of Billie Dean’s neck stood up. They were close yet again. “Slowly… carefully… there.” Wilhemina slowly let go of Billie, but stood there. “Now put it away.” Billie Dean did as she was told. “Now, you wait for a second. The heat must be low so it cooks all throughout the dough.”
“That makes sense,” Billie Dean hummed. Her mouth had gone dry, and lavender clouded her senses.
Wilhemina nodded. I want to touch her. It was like Billie was a weird magnet. And no magnets worked on Venable but this one. “You can flip it,” she said once the dough had turned gold. “Do it swiftly.” Carefully, Billie Dean did so; no dough spilled out this time. “There you go.”
“Way easier.” Billie smiled.
“Mhm… now you wait a little more, and it’s all set.”
Billie Dean turned her head softly to look at Wilhemina. Honey eyes instantly met dark brown ones. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome.” I can feel her breath. Venable gulped.
Billie’s eyes fell down to Wilhemina’s lips, and her breath ragged for a moment before she hesitantly turned back around. She reached to put the pancake onto the plate. “This is the most beautiful pancake I’ve ever managed to make.”
“I’ll ask for the credits,” Venable teased. Her heart had sped up a little. “I’ll go settle the table while you finish it.”
“Okay.”
Wilhemina pulled away and reached to grab the plates and the silverware. Then, she made her way to the dinning area. In a few minutes the table was all set and Billie Dean was already done with the pancakes. They both took a seat. Billie looked over the table with a smile; there were strawberries, jam, syrup and juice. “It looks good.”
“Thank you.” Venable grabbed the juice and poured herself a glass. “Would you like some?”
“Please.” Billie pushed her glass closer to Venable. “Thank you.”
Wilhemina nodded and set the juice aside. She took a first sip and watched as Billie Dean did the same. Nervousness settled itself in her stomach. I need to tell her about Emma. “I… about Emma…” It was best to just rip that bandaid off.
Oh. That was out of nowhere. Billie Dean nodded nonetheless as she set her glass aside. Honey eyes watched as Venable focused on grabbing a few pancakes to herself as she thought. “Wilhie… you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to…”
“I do,” Venable quickly said. “I do, I just… it’s n-not something easy.”
Fuck. Emma had done something, Billie Dean was sure. “I understand…” She reached to grab some pancakes to herself.
Wilhemina focused on the food on her plate. She reached for a few strawberries and then for the chocolate syrup. “I… she… s-she didn’t… we were… ugh,” she sighed.
To watch Venable struggle so much to speak was heartbreaking. Billie Dean frowned sadly. “It’s just me,” she said softly. Slowly, one of her hands reached to caress Venable’s free one. “I won’t judge.”
I’m not so sure. Wilhemina was certain anyone would. She tangled her fingers with Billie’s and took a deep breath. Just do it. “We were k-kissing and she said… she said s-something… she said something t-that just… spiraled in my m-mind…” Her eyes met Billie Dean’s; once again, she found comfort in them. “She said… s-she said she was n-no child when I a-asked about something she w-wanted me to do and I… I… I know it’s stupid but that… I—would she r-respect my boundaries? Boundaries aren’t childish and she m-made me feel unsafe and I just—I’m a grown woman but I j-just felt in danger and my mind kept on spiraling and that’s… that’s when I went to the bathroom and y-you called and… we talked…”
Wilhemina’s words had been like a rollercoaster; she started talking slowly, and then she simply shot fire and everything was out in a rush. Billie Dean had to take a second to make sense of the words and collect her thoughts and feelings. Her fingers never once left Venable’s, and her eyes never once carried judgement. And then she grew angry, because who the fuck was Emma to make Wilhemina feel so uncomfortable? And what the fuck did she have in mind to handle a question about consent like that? With rudeness? “Wilhie… first of all, how you felt is not stupid,” she started. “Emma’s words were absolutely insensitive, and I can see why you felt the way that you did.” Billie Dean had had a few troubles after that producer tried getting his way with her, so she could understand why one would react that way to such idiotic words.
Wilhemina nervously played with the fork in her hand. She looked down at her food, mind going a hundred thoughts a second. Was that what it was like? To open up with a friend and hear their opinions? To have a safe person to tell you when things were too much? Could Billie Dean be her safe person? “Y-you don’t think it was too much?”
“Absolutely not.” Billie shook her head. “Specially in a situation like that, where you’re meeting someone new and things are so delicate.” How dare Emma? How dare she have that woman to herself and treat her like that? They were making out. She couldn’t take that image off of her mind. It caused her hunger to momentarily disappear.
Wilhemina gulped before taking a deep breath. Absently, she played with Billie’s fingers. “Meeting p-people is hard,” she said after a second. Hesitantly, she looked back up at Billie Dean. “All of that… it’s hard.”
A small smile touched Billie’s lips. “It is… sometimes I think I’ll just be alone forever.”
Wilhemina instantly shook her head. “Who would be crazy enough to deny a date with you?” The words were so damn honest they flew out of Venable’s mouth before she could stop them.
Billie Dean’s cheeks tinted pink. She looked down before looking back up. “Many people…”
Wilhemina shook her head again. “I don’t get it.”
Billie Dean shrugged. She didn’t want to talk about it anymore; it reminded her of all the internal turmoil, as if she needed more of a reminder of it. “Did Emma do anything else?”
Venable put a pin on the subject they were on. Billie Dean seemed to have some resistance when it came to it. “No… it was just that.” And the fucking marking me.
“Does she make you feel like that often?” Billie’s words were quiet.
Wilhemina bit her inner cheek. Her walls wanted to grow again, but she wouldn’t allow it this time. Does she? She didn’t know. Everything was so new and so different from everything she had ever done… what could she even compare it to? “I’m n-not sure.”
Weird. “How so?” With her free hand, Billie reached for a strawberry.
She’s hungry. Only then Venable realized they hadn’t touched the food. And she still had her fingers wrapped around Billie Dean’s. Hesitantly, she let go of her so they could eat. “I-it’s just that… well, everything is just s-so new…” She reached to play with her food again. “I suppose a little discomfort i-is only natural, r-right?”
She let go. Maybe I should stop. But Wilhemina was still talking, and she seemed willing to do so. Maybe she needed someone she could share her thoughts. Billie Dean would be careful. “I wouldn’t say discomfort… perhaps a little hesitation, but not discomfort to the point where it makes you feel so anxious.” Is she having panic attacks all the time? Billie Dean’s stomach growled lowly, so she reached to take a bite of her pancakes. Venable shifted on her seat. She’s uncomfortable. “I guess I suppose when you’re meeting a potential partner, you should feel comfortable around that person… right?”
Right? It was… and did Venable feel comfortable around Emma? She did, more than she had felt around many people in a long time. But… was it enough? I wish I could feel like I do with Billie Dean. But Billie was only her friend… that’s why it felt so right. “You’re right…” But then again, when had she ever felt comfortable enough to not even brush her hair nor look at herself in the mirror while being with someone else? And she wasn’t even scared of being judged… being judged was always there. But not when it came to Billie Dean, it seemed. I don’t think I’d ever allow Emma to see me like that.
I should stop. The thought crossed Billie Dean’s mind once again. She decided to listen to it. “Just know I’m here if you ever need to talk about it.”
Wilhemina nodded. Something had shifted deep inside.
#AHS#ahs fanfic#ahs murder house#ahs fanfiction#ahs apocalypse#ahs hotel#sarah paulson#Would you Swallow all your Pride?#rabexxpaulson#lesbian#lesbian story#lesbian fanfiction#lesbian relationship#lesbian fanfic#wilhemina venable#Billie Dean Howard x Wilhemina Venable#billie dean howard#billie dean x wilhemina venable
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