#the link to the story on AO3 is in the comments

[izxz-is-deranged]

Half Agony, Half Hope

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (Regency AU)

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: You do not care for men. Most pursue you for the fortune they will inherit if you marry. But there was one, selfless Devil who saved you, and you could not easily forget his charms. Your Aunt and Uncle Ellison, however, beg for your realism in finding a suitable partner. At a Ball one evening, you cross paths with a Mr. Murdock. Could he be the fix for your situation? Or, perhaps, another devilish trick?

regency specific yearning | limited series

< ao3 link > < masterlist >

A/N: Spring is turning to summer and I have been re-reading Jane Austen Novels. Please enjoy this limited series, 5 installments are planned and written and will be uploaded as they are edited and polished!The name is also a reference to Persuasion, and there are references littered all through from various Austen novels. <3

1: The Happenstance of a Ball

To be the talk of the town was never a good thing.

No matter the subject, venomous women shared quick whispers in the shadowed corners of parties, and those would go on to spread to the loud, air-headed men downing their drinks, without such a care for the damage a reputation can give. And though a fortnight had come and gone since your rescue from the robber, people had not let matter come to rest. The tales of the encounter followed you wherever you dare set foot, and to all their respect, you had not yet had the fortune to dispel your own memories of the event.

Or, perhaps, the memories of a certain masked man.

You’ve lain in your bed awake, staring through the window into the deep night, simply replaying the scene. The ruffian who grabbed you, who tried to pull you to the alley. The fear you felt rip through you when you couldn’t escape, but then, like a spitfire of divine justice, a man clad in black tore him off you. You barely had time to register what had happened before your assailant was sprawled unconscious against the cobblestone.

“Can you stand?” The masked man asked, voice low.

He offered a hand wrapped in dark fabric towards you, gently, juxtaposed to how that same hand drew blood from the nose of the wicked. You worried he was some other highwayman, or some gentleman thief who was here to claim the other man’s bounty as his own, but that seemed to not be the case. Your heartbeat drowned out the noise of the town at night, as your eyes took in the broad figure of the masked man above you. By all accounts he was scandalously dressed without the wrapped black of the mask that was pulled taught over the top half of his face. Tall boots, tight pants, and a loose, black shirt with no waistcoat nor jacket to cover it, instead only a sash across his hips securing two wooden batons. 

Despite yourself, and the strangeness of your rescuer, you took his hand. He hoisted you from the floor, swifter than you had fallen. You can’t help but gasp at motion, but it settled as a single, nervous laugh. In the dim light of the alley, you swear you see him smile.

“ Find the constable, tell him what has happened here ,” he commanded, as he began to disappear into the night.

“ Wait, sir! Am I not to know the name or see the face of the man that has saved my life and honor? ” you blurted out, your words folding over themselves before you can think.

He paused, head tilted over his shoulder. “ I’m afraid I’ll have to leave that to your fantasies .”

Oh, if only you could tell him how apt that comment turned out to be.

Word spread quick of the story, and the rumor of your hero moreso. Inkings in the paper only tried to capture the likeness of the masked man terrorizing the underbelly of the city. You’d analyzed them carefully, but found that they didn’t quite paint him in the same light you remember, even still, you had taken to tucking them into the drawer of your bed stand. They had begun to refer to him as a “Devil Amongst Men”, on account of his damning punishments of criminals and thieves, yet none had been killed. It puzzled the media, and the men around, as they were both quick to draw on their prey.

“It is strange they refer to him as a Devil. He would not be called but an Angel if I had anything to say about it,” You said, eyes glancing over the latest paper. 

You were sat down for tea in the drawing room with your Aunt Lily. Your parents had passed while you were still a babe and you were sent to be raised by your cousins, The Ellisons. Their own son had been married and gone 3 years since, and while they treated you as their own (You even had their last name at this point), you couldn’t inherit your family’s fortune until you were married. A problem your Aunt Lily made it her mission to solve. By some manner of coincidence, your Uncle, Mitchell Ellison, was the owner of the Bulletin, the daily local paper. After the attack, he’d printed the story the very next morning, but hadn’t taken your heroic perspective into account, just the fact a masked man had you cornered in an alley.

“Perhaps you should recount the tale again to your Uncle. I’m sure he would be swayed this time,” Aunt Lily teased, smiling as she occupied her fingers with the needle point.

“He won’t hear of it,” you muttered as annoyance creeped in. 

“Well, I have an excellent distraction, if you’d allow me to take your mind off it.” Her voice quirked upwards. A glance that could not be more mischievous was sent your way and you found yourself raising an eyebrow.

“What are you scheming?”

“Not me, my dear, the Wesleys. Apparently, they are holding a last minute Ball to announce the marriage of some family friend of theirs. Their estate is quite large and the fanfare might attract more… suitable men, instead of your vigilante.”

“By suitable men you mean rich?” You knowingly smiled at your Aunt and her predictability. “Even should I go, the shadow of him would follow me. Polite society is quite taken with him at the moment and I’d be a spectacle… again. The Damsel saved by the Devil, they call me.”

“But you will go, will you not?” She leaned forward, setting her needle point down just long enough to push the matter as she waited for your answer.

You deeply sigh. “Yes, yes, of course. Perhaps he’ll arrive to whisk me out of the madness.”

But your words are filled with a false annoyance, you loved the happenstance of a Ball. The dresses, the wine and revelry, the music and dancing. Being out in society gave you the opportunity to dance with many men, but none had caught your eye for any special attention. You’d sworn off marriage unless it was a match born out of only the deepest love, but your Aunt and Uncle begged for your realism. A part of you was beginning to believe that you should listen to them, but the thoughts were quelled by your love of the Devil. Though your infatuation wasn’t really love, was it? Gratefulness? Sure. A childlike crush on the dashing hero? Possibly. However, a distraction by the unattainable? Most definitely.

The coming days were spent preparing yourself– Your dress, planning your desired hair style. Your Uncle had gifted you a gorgeous white gown with golden trimmings and matching ribbon to tie around it. You knew it cost a smidge more than he would normally spend, so you were quite aware how much they believed in you to find a suiter at this Ball.

When the day arrived, your friend, Miss Marci Stahl, nearly paraded herself through your house with fever. The earth might have shaken the day she found out you were both attending. Her dress was an almost garish spring green, and not your taste in the slightest, but it did flatter her bold personality. She stood behind you, styling your hair and weaving in baby’s breath flowers as you sat in front of the vanity. Marci had been telling you all about a gentleman she had met who she was expecting to see again tonight.

“Oh, but he was quite clever, and had such boisterous humor! With one of those sweet faces, quite like an excited dog.” Marci laughed at her own words.

“That cannot be a compliment, Marci,” you mused, fiddling with the edge of the vanity.

“But it is– When you meet him, you’ll understand me perfectly.”

“What was his name again?”

“Mr. Franklin Nelson. Though his friend referred to him without break as ‘Foggy’; It seemed to be some nickname of sorts,” she explained. 

“ Foggy…, ” you repeat. “Odd. I wonder how it came about.”

“Who are we to speculate? But if your curiosity is too strong, you can ask him tonight. I tell you to keep in mind that I am the one seeking his favor, so save your charms.”

You laughed wildly, eyes sparkling. “Keep your gentleman! I have no intention of undermining your efforts, Marci. I wouldn’t dare betray your confidence like that.”

Marci stilled your head, positioning you to look at yourself in the mirror. “Oh, but you wouldn’t have to do so much but look at a man the right way and he’d be moon-eyed. The most eligible gentlemen seek you out at every event. It–”

“– It is no secret that they are to receive a good fortune if they marry me. That is why they insist upon the chase,” you interrupted as you met her eyes in the mirror, “I do not trust the heart of any man I meet. I fear that is my folly and why I will end up a penniless spinster.”

Marci scrunched her face in disapproval, but there is no malice behind the action. She leaned down and whispers, “ Yet, you are infatuated by the Devil you don’t know. ”

You lit up in flustered amusement and you waved her back vigorously. “Dear Marci, please! I cannot take teasing over it.”

“How can I not?” Marci questioned. She finished your hair and retrieved her gloves from where they were laid out across a chair. Her own silver blonde hair in delicate ringlets dropped around her face. They bounced as she began to speak again. “I fear you are in love with an idea.”

“I am in love with the fact that he was the only man not to disappoint me. He did nothing short of save my life. I do not know 100 men as brave as he was at that moment, and he did it without witness or reward.” You found yourself explaining as you fixed your drop-pearl earrings. 

A deep sigh escapes her and she places her hands on her hips. “You have not considered the other possibility.”

“Which is?” you ask, turning around to face her.

“That he did it not out of the goodness of his heart– But a want for violence.”

Ever the one for deep insight, Marci’s words echoed your entire journey to the Wesley Estate. You'd been so starry eyed you hadn’t entertained the idea of your hero having any ulterior motive. It felt all too possible, especially with the other encounters documented in the papers. What did it matter though? What was your real possibility of seeing him ever again? Your thoughts swirled, keeping you preoccupied from your family in the carriage. Marci had accompanied you all, and she sat pristine beside you with your Aunt and Uncle across from you, who had taken notice of your mental absence. 

“Is your head with you?” he asked, squinting at you over the half-moon glasses set on his nose. While his tone may be cold to others, you knew him well enough that it was his concern bleeding through. “You seem lost. Are you quite well?”

“Hm? Oh, yes. Sorry, Uncle,” you muttered in reply.

“Now, now, Mr. Ellison. I’m sure she’s just dreaming of the splendor we’ll encounter tonight, correct?” Aunt Lily posed. She gently rocked back and forth with the sway of the carriage, her eyes watching you intently, as if she could read and judge your thoughts for her own.

“I was just–”

Marci injected– “My! I’d never seen such a handsome house!”

A large brick and stone building grew in size as you approached in the carriage. Yours was one of many pulling into the property, signified by the gentle displacement of gravel and the woody hooves of horses. A long, green yard with a gorgeous lake sprawls out in front of it, the starlight dancing on the soft ripples created by the night wind. Men and women dressed in their very best poured into the building like pinpricks of color against golden fabric. Voices and music rose through the air, muffled only by the walls of the estate, but the excitement seeped out of the doors and windows and any other cracks it could find.

Your carriage came to a halt, and you and your family exited. Marci strided forward, and your Aunt and Uncle took each other's arms to walk in together. You trailed behind, but only by a few paces, eyes consuming the scene in your wake. As soon as you were through the doors, you were enamored by the people, laughing and delicately speaking to round out the familial mood. Your smile grew wider as you let the music seep to your ears. The ceilings stretched above you, detailed with pastels and gold filigree. You’d already lost Marci amongst the crowd, and you surged forward to catch your Aunt and Uncle before they disappeared as well.

You caught Aunt Lily’s shoulder. “I definitely believe I’ve encountered the splendor! Who heads this estate again?”

“Sir James Wesley, a Baronet. Though, I don’t believe he will make an appearance tonight. Word is that he is the private type and only tolerates the company of a few,” she replied by dropping her voice to a hushed whisper so that the people beside did not hear.

“A spectacularly rich man who does not bother to attend his own engagements? Is he eligible?” You joked.

“I’m afraid you’ll find Mr. Wesley to be a permanent bachelor.” Your Uncle comments and you understand immediately. The constant reward of being in the newspaper industry was that your uncle always had information about everyone. Well, almost everyone. “Where has Miss Stahl run to?”

You glance around. Even in her bright green, she could not be seen in this room and must’ve been deeper into the house. “I’m not sure. Probably seeking out her Mr. Nelson.”

“ There’s a Mr. Nelson? ” A gasp escapes Aunt Lily’s face brightens at the prospect. 

You laughed. “As far as I am aware. I ought to find her before she loses all propriety in her pursuit of him.”

And with that you broke off into the party. You weaved in and out of the figures, not paying at all to the turning of heads when you passed certain men. Your mind was one tracked, and room after room, you did not see your mission. 

Until she found you, grabbing your arm with more force than necessary. 

“There you are!” Marci exclaimed. “He’s here! You have to come meet him– Quick!”

Marci dragged you towards the other side of the ballroom, keeping close to the wall as dancers took up most of the floor space. They braided around one another to the flowing violin, women smiling broadly and men’s eyes twinkling at the ribbons trailing after their movements. 

A gentleman was revealed standing next to one of the columns of the room. Marci pulled you into his direction and you stared ahead as he came into view. You almost understood the dog comment now. It truly wasn’t a critique as even from this distance you saw his round, pleasant face break open into laughter. His hair was golden and fine, twirling back over his ears and sideburns, giving him much the presence of the cocker spaniel your family had when you were young. Once he spotted Marci waltzing back over, he tilted his head up as a wide, inviting smile was thrown your way.

As the people in front of you parted, your eyes found the man accompanying him, and the room slowed to a stop.

He wasn’t much taller than Mr. Nelson, but he had wide shoulders that even his near black tailcoat could not mask. His dark hair was neatly combed to the side and fell over his forehead in a gentle arch. His mouth was quirked up in a subtle amusement, with the whisperings of his dark stubble beginning to shade his smile. None of this compared to the small set of wine-red lenses that hid his eyes and sat perched on the slight curve of his nose. He stood still, poised, with his hand wrapped around a cane. Reality around him seemed to bend as your heart began to stutter.

You blinked a few times, in a deep surprise at yourself. Typically, even the most objectively handsome men you could wave off, but there was something almost familiar about his good looks you couldn’t put your finger on. Perhaps your masked Devil has warped your sense of attraction so innately that any man who hid his eyes was now in danger of being fawned over.

“Ah! Miss Stahl! You have returned to us after all. I feared I had finally scared you away!” Mr. Nelson said through a smile, voice rounded and humorous. “And who is this you have with you?”

Marci says your full name and you courtesy ever so slightly.

“Miss Ellison just curtsied for us!” Mr. Nelson comments to his friend. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I have heard nothing but praise from your dear Miss Stahl.”

“Of course, Mr. Nelson, and I of you.” Your voice is distant and your gaze flitted back to the other man. “And… Who might you be?”

His head tilts at you, eyebrows raising high onto his forehead. “Are you addressing me?”

Your face flickers with confusion. “Well, who else–”

“–My partner here, Mr. Murdock, lacks vision in his eyes. You’ll have to excuse him,” Mr. Nelson interjects.

A bone-seated embarrassment flushed through you. “Oh! Oh . My mistake I assure you, Mr. Murdock. I apologize for my impertinence.” The words fell out of your mouth as quickly as you could form them. 

He just nodded in response.

Marci spoke up to break the tension as the music shifted. “...This is my favorite dance they have begun!”

“Well, then we must away to dance it!” Mr. Nelson cried. “Miss Ellison, will you do the honor of keeping Mr. Murdock company until we return?”

Your heart stopped at the idea, but you watched as Mr. Murdock’s jaw tightened. You’re unsure if he’d enjoy your presence much. Marci nudged you discreetly and you realized you hadn’t yet answered. “...If only that’s agreeable by him,” you replied slowly.

Mr. Murdock swallowed, then spoke, voice even. “It’s fine. Enjoy your dances, Foggy.”

Mr. Nelson and Marci disappeared together, and you’re left with the new Mr. Murdock.

There was a long pause of silence, filled only by the other voices and the music of the ball. You considered abandoning your post, but the mystery of him intrigued you… and it was definitely not your inclined fancy or your want at redemption from your earlier misstep.

“I dare say, you seem rather familiar. Have we met before?” you asked. 

“Not that I am aware of,” Mr. Murdock replies simply.

“Then I must’ve seen you around town at some point,” you guess, though you weren’t half convinced by it.

“Well, I wouldn’t have seen you, so perhaps that is our explanation.”

He flashed a smile and you let out a laugh at the joke, testing the waters. The tension in his shoulders lessened at your laughter, and you realized he wasn’t as intimidating as you thought initially. There was a good chance his good looks just made you nervous. 

“Do you dance, Mr. Murdock?” 

He rocks his head. “Not particularly. I find that partners are less willing when you're…” He gestures up to the glasses with a wave of his hand.

“But you do know the dances, do you not? Certainly you are able to count steps. They are all practiced movements, and require not the ability of sight but the lightness of foot! There must be a way to accommodate you,” you respond, tone bordering on incredulous. It bothered you that he might miss out on such a novel pastime due to something he couldn’t control, and that you may miss out on the pleasure of dancing with him.

A distant hint of warmth crept into his expression, and you caught a glimpse of your own reflection in his glasses. “I appreciate the concern, Miss Ellison, but I’d have more desire to dance if I was in a private setting.”

The conversation stilled there and another quiet moment passed by. You scanned for Mr. Nelson and Marci amongst the dancers and spotted them joyously twirling together. You smiled to yourself at your friend’s happiness. They seemed a good match for each other, you dared to say.

“Marci’s attentions drift so easily… it’s a wonder to see her so devoted to your friend.” You finally said, almost lost in thought.

“I assume your attentions are quite different then, by your severity,” Mr. Murdock turned himself more toward you as he spoke.

You watch him out of the corner of your eye. “Well… Mine are not so easy to capture.”

He inhales. “Then how would one–”

“Mr. Murdock!” A deceivingly stern voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin. A man you knew as Constable Mahoney began to stride over towards you… and you realized you hadn’t seen him since the night you were attacked. “And Miss Ellison! I had not inquired after your health after the event of weeks prior. You must forgive me, but you seem to have recovered well.” He took a deep bow. 

“Were you hurt?” Mr. Murdock then asked, his brow knitted above his head.

You are about to answer when Constable Mahoney takes the lead. “Miss Ellison survived an encounter with the Devil of our County!” He said, much louder than necessary, which turns heads your way.

“The lady encountered the Devil?” A bright, posh voice perked up from a seating area somewhere behind you. You turned to look and the most elegantly dressed woman you’d ever seen, with graying hair pinned away from her regal features, looked over her shoulder at you. “I would quite like to hear that tale.”

The party she was sat with was, for lack of better phrasing, the richest at the ball. This is how they made their fun, absorbing the county’s gossip. It’s as if this particular type of woman had ears in every corner of the room, for that is where they find their entertainment. They all murmured agreements with each other and watched you, expecting and hungry.

“Well?” She asked, gesturing in front of her, “Come, come! Do not be so shy. You are among friends here.”

Glancing out of the corner of your eye at Mr. Murdock, whose face was nothing but puzzled, you tried to decide what to do. This was exactly what you expected, and while you were not poor, this level of wealth radiating off of this side of the party felt particularly intimidating. 

“ It would be better to comply. This is Lady Diana Wesley– Mother of the head of the estate. Not a woman to cross ,” Constable Mahoney muttered to you subtly. He didn’t wait for your response before he took your arm and gently guided you forward.

“Oh, no, no, no. I promise you have all read the tale in the papers! I will only bore you!” You begged as Mahoney showed you to the center of the seating area, where you now stood in the cradle of the crescent. “I have told this many times–”

“Nonsense! Nonsense! I have not heard of it! As well, I’m sure your gentleman can spare you, isn’t that correct? Or better yet, I am sure he would be interested in listening in!”

She looked back at Mr. Murdock, who had stepped over to stand behind the couch. He tilted his head up in your direction, which surprised you. For someone who could not see, he had an uncanny ability to know where you were. He spoke. “Perhaps… you should tell it once more. And then I will personally make sure not a word is breathed about it again.”

Lady Diana Wesley smiled at this, the action deepening the lines in her face. “How honorable. Certainly you cannot object to that offer, Miss…?”

“Miss Ellison,” Constable Mahoney finished. 

“ Miss Ellison ,” she repeated, voice elated.

Your eyes flicked to Mr. Murdock. Even though he had no realistic way of preventing the story from being told, his conviction convinced you. “Of course… I daresay I cannot.”

With all eyes on you, you told the story once more. Eventually, Marci and Mr. Nelson had returned and sat to listen in, Marci casting devious glances at you all the while. The Lady seemed pleased by your tale and when you finished, the group delivered a polite clap. 

“You are a gifted storyteller, Miss Ellison, I do say! I almost feel as though the Devil was in the room with us now!” Lady Diana Wesley said.

Mr. Nelson laughed loudly and shared a look with Mr. Murdock, who did not seem as pleased.

Marci speaks up, much to your fear. “If he were, I am sure she would have danced thrice over as his partner.”

“ Marci, ” You called, shaking your head almost imperceptibly, but it was too late.

“Harboring a fancy for him, is she? Now that is quite the morsel.” Lady Diana Wesley just laughed once more. Her tone was conspiratorial and her eyes trailed up and down your persons. “But I cannot persecute you over being a woman, for who could resist such a dashing hero? And you are a gem , I must say. A true beauty. Any man could be so lucky.”

You took a politely small bow at the compliment, when you looked up, both Mr. Nelson and Mr. Murdock had disappeared. Your face fell with disappointment. Marci was gesturing for you to follow her, and you made your excuses to the group and the Lady.

Diving back into the organized chaos of the ball, Marci once more had a hold of you. She pulled you through until you were both hidden in the shadows behind a wall, where no one else could see or hear you.

“Oh, wasn’t he a dream?” Marci fawned, holding both your arms.

“He seems a good match for your boldness, I say,” You commented, peeking around the corner into the crowds, looking for the disappeared gentlemen.

“Who are you searching for?” Marci asked, before a gasp escaped her lips, “I knew it! I thought you were giving him eyes!”

“Who?” Your voice was distracted by your efforts.

“Mr. Murdock!” Marci chirped, her smile wide.

You snapped back towards her. “What? No! No, don’t start your teasing again! You are mistaken!”

“Mhmhm…”

Marci begun to blather on about more about his Mr. Nelson, and you were still distracted by searching for his partner. Men in similar coats made your heart skip then fall, and you were about to give up hope, when you spotted his silhouette. Your excitement was short lived however, as you saw him talking with a gorgeous blonde woman in a soft pink gown. His grin was wide and he looked 10 times more comfortable with her than he did for even a second with you. You would be blind to discount the possibility his heart already belonged to another. 

The rest of the night was a blur of trying to distract yourself from how quickly you built up Mr. Murdock in your mind. You danced with a few good men, sipped your wine, and enjoyed more words with the Lady Diana Wesley. You didn't understand why she took such a liking to you, but you couldn’t complain as she was quite a formidable connection to make. You found out the blonde woman talking with Mr. Murdock was a woman named Karen Page, after your Uncle introduced you to her as she was a writer for the paper. 

You couldn’t help but think she was twice your beauty, with a mind to match. No wonder Mr. Murdock’s attentions had been trained on her. By the time you were back home after the ball, you had nearly dispelled all feelings for the strange Mr. Murdock. Now, you were sitting at your window, watching the streets below you. You swore you watched a figure shift on the rooftop across from you, but you waved it off as a trick of the light. You blew out your candle, going to finally sleep off the day. But, what you didn’t know was that it wasn’t tired eyes playing tricks. The Devil sat perched across the way, listening to your heartbeat as you were lulled to sleep, because despite his one masked meeting with you, and his avoiding you at the ball, he felt just as strongly pulled to you as you were to him, and that scared him half to death.

Taglist: @vioplay19

[chipthekeeper]

Hello again my friends. You want it, I've got it. It being heaps of fanfiction about the beautiful miracle that is Velcinta, and plenty more on the way.

Under the cut you can find links to all my fic, including multichapter fics, one-shots, and the short and sweet stuff. Please never hesitate to talk to me about any of it here or leave comments on ao3!

Happy reading!

Multichapter fics:

(oh, love, get me) out of the cold - backstory from how they met on Aldhani, plus missing scenes and in-depth study of season one (the magnum opus. for now) | 22 chapters, 82,621 words

The Fear of Being Alone - 5 times Vel didn't leave Cinta alone + 1 time Cinta returned the favor | 6 chapters, 11,798 words

the heart is a muscle - another run at their Aldhani story, eventually to move ahead well past season one (this has been a work in progress for a long time but i WILL finish it someday. big plans now) | currently 10 chapters, 29,368 words. many more to come

One-shots (2000 words or more):

Sharing a Blanket - the FIRST ever Velcinta fic :) | 2046 words

What's Left - post-episode 8 feelings processing | 4729 words

New at This - first attempt at describing how they met | 3644 words

The Window to the Galaxy - still the happy ending I choose to believe they got | 4232 words

Loved I Not Honor More - 5 times the struggle comes first + 1 time it doesn't (my favorite fic aside from the big one) | 8809 words

It Won't Kill Ya - another possible first meeting, but lighter | 3533 words

Gravity - first attempt at interpreting the infamous season two potato trailer footage | 3398 words

Losers Buy - Velcinta + Rebelcaptain Imperial sabotage double-date | 3229 words

Better in the Next Life - second attempt at interpreting the infamous season two potato trailer footage. but this time devastating? | 3407 words

Quick hits (under 2000 words)

things you said - 3 "chapters", 1443 words

a stubborn heart - 100 words

bloodsport - 644 words

Vel Sartha's Guide to Coming Out to Your Niece - 706 words

failure - 200 words

we did not give up on love today - 683 words

missed - 1227 words

universal language - 1182 words

The Exchange - random Cinta drabble | 100 words

[raincitygirl76]

Back in the olden days of yore (like, say, 2014 or so), artists would just spontaneously link to their art in the AO3 comments of a writer whose work they loved. That would show the writer and the other commenters the art they’d already made that was inspired by that fic.

And it was FREE! It wasn’t an opening manoeuvre to convince the writer to commission paid illustrations. They were just making art inspired by their favourite AO3 stories.

And the writer was usually delighted! Not all the art was expertly done, but it was a spontaneous creative reaction to someone else’s creativity, not a sales pitch to solicit a paid project.

I’m sorry those days seem to be gone.

I mean, yes, artists have to make money. And it’s not against the AO3 rules, as far as I know, to do sales pitches to potential clients in their AO3 comments. But it’s still pretty tacky. I mean, that isn’t what AO3 is FOR.

The amount of ‘artists’ commenting on my ao3 fics is getting nuts. They supposedly want to illustrate your work. Guys if you get one of these commenters don’t communicate with them—-total spam. I just delete but there’s been a weird uptick. Anyone else?

[muffinlance]

EMERGENCY FANFIC PROTOCOLS: ACTIVATED

Hey while AO3 is down

Here is a GDrive link to all my downloaded fics (it's OVER 9,000 2,000)

Mostly Avatar, also The Magnus Archives, Danny Phantom, Teen Wolf, and a few others

Mostly unsorted, some not even intentionally downloaded because the auto-downloader I use is Like That, so consider this a glorified "give me a random fic" button

MAKE SURE TO KUDOS THE AUTHORS WHEN AO3 IS BACK UP

>>> Linkie link <<<

Edit: Note that when AO3 comes back up that link will go dead again... until it's needed, once more

EMERGENCY FANFIC PROTOCOLS: DEACTIVATED

...Until next they are needed

If you were going through these for fic recs, check out my AO3 Bookmarks for the more curated list.

To make your own fanfic backups, I recommend AO3 Downloader or FanFicFare. (I'm not tech support for either; please don't message me for help.)

Happy reading!

[kawareo]

URGE THAT BINDS FINALE!

Merry christmas! Gay shit be upon ye!

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Golden Mercy Ch 2 (Hyrule Warriors story)

Summary: When Ganondorf returns during Hyrule Warriors, he’s on a mission to make things right, though what that means is beyond everyone around him. Kidnapping the Hero of Hyrule and telling him he’s protecting him from the Queen is not what anyone expected, and nobody can quite figure out what his ultimate goal is. Link sure is confused, though, and… starting to realize there’s more to Ganondorf than just being a monster. Zelda, on the other hand, is quickly spiraling with panic and fear over losing her friend and Hero, as well as trying to protect her kingdom from such a threat that was so dangerous the previous Hero split his soul into pieces to prevent him from ever returning.

(AO3 link)

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Chapter 2 - The Oncoming Storm

The majority of the coronation celebration was outside, as the castle was still too damaged to house such a party. It did mean it was an easy place to hide from the crowds, though, giving Link a break.

The Hero of Hyrule was easily recognizable in his garb, gifted to him by General Impa during the war. It was strange to think how much had changed since then, how the war was now over, how the princess had just been crowned queen. Link was proud of Zelda, was happy that it was over, but sometimes wandering among the common folk and being gawked became too much, even though he had grown far more accustomed to it.

He hadn’t quite figured out how to handle everyone looking at him as a symbol of victory.

He was always looked to, wasn’t he? When the Triforce of Courage had first claimed him, Impa had known his destiny was far grander than he’d realized. He’d tried everything in his power to live up to that expectation, to the proud green and blue that he wore. And he supposed he had lived up to it, with a few hiccups. But… somehow, he’d hoped, when it was all over, that perhaps all eyes would not be on him anymore.

He certainly was naïve, he supposed. It wasn’t as if the attention wasn’t validating, of course. But still… he hardly knew wha to say to so many. He knew he’d have to step up, to figure out how to navigate this new battlefield of sorts. It wasn’t as if he would be stepping back anytime soon. Hyrule still needed help.

Link leaned against a cold stone wall, disappearing into the shadows cast by a pillar beside him. He didn’t stay hidden for long, though, when he heard the sound of chainmail and metal shoes, and he turned to see his queen.

Link knelt automatically, wishing Proxi were here to verbally acknowledge Zelda so he wouldn’t have to. He wasn’t entirely sure how to acknowledge her now, after all.

“Hello, Link,” Zelda greeted with warmth, motioning for him to rise. When he did so, she smiled at him. She looked… tired in the moonlight.

During the war, they’d held a camaraderie. It had helped that she’d hidden her identity initially as Sheik, making her just a fellow soldier instead of the Princess of Hyrule. After her secret had been revealed, it had created a bit of a tension between the pair, but the war had pushed them together so much it had seemed to finally lift.

Until the war’s end. Until Zelda had started to look at the capital once more, and had started to try and reel in her people as much as the enemy. As soon as her duties had expanded from war to ruling, it had reminded Link of who she was, and though they still were familiar and friendly to each other, it was… he didn’t know. There was something strange to it now, a new knowledge between the two that created awkwardness.

He missed just being friends.

“We have a long road ahead of us,” Zelda noted quietly, looking down. The cheers and festivities from outside seemed so far away. “So much has been lost.”

Her words made his heart ache. Link had seen more battlefields than he could count, and he’d lost so many soldiers. Hyrule had lost many of its people. The one good thing was that the majority of the war had been in open fields – though some attacks had been on settlements and villages, most hadn’t involved civilians. But Zelda wasn’t wrong – they had much to do, and Link was eager to help, even if he wasn’t sure how.

After all… he was a soldier. He’d spent most of his life preparing for battle, and he’d grown up forged in the flames of war. The war was over.

The war was over.

So what was his purpose now? What was he supposed to do?

He shook his head subtly. He’d trained to be a knight in a time of peace. War may have forged him into a man, but he still knew how he could contribute. It was just… far different now, after everything.

Zelda fiddled with something around her neck, showing him a necklace. He’d seen it once in a while, when Zelda had been in more casual attire between fights. It had a locket on it, with the Sheikah eye on the outside. He’d never seen what was inside it, though.

“My parents gave me this,” she said, staring at it with sad eyes.

Link felt compelled to say something, heart moved with grief. “I’m sorry.”

The queen bit her lip, squeezing the locket in her palm. Then she smiled at him, motioning for him to come closer. He did so obediently, and she gently placed the necklace around him. He stared at her, surprised and confused.

“You are the Hero of Hyrule,” she said, her smile remaining, but her tone became more formal. “I was right when I thought it was you. You have proven yourself time and again, Link. As the Hero of destiny, you are my Hero. I want you to have this and remember that.”

Link found himself entirely lost for words. This locket had been a gift from her parents – it seemed wrong for him to have it. But her words held a depth and meaning to them that made his heart skip a beat, it gave him the same shivers he’d always get when people spoke of his destiny to save the world.

Perhaps that was the chasm that had grown between them. They could no longer just be war buddies anymore, he supposed. She was a Queen, and he was the Hero.

He wasn’t just the Hero, though, as she said. He was hers. Lana had said it as well. Two souls, eternally bound together.

Bound together.

Link swallowed, uncomfortable all of a sudden. He wished he had time to actually consider what that meant. It was strange, really, how their primary enemy could be so obsessed with him over reasons he still couldn’t fully comprehend. Yes, he was an attractive man, he knew that, but the idea behind the Soul of the Hero… and his greater destiny…

He’d tried to talk to Lana about it once. She’d been as uncomfortable to address it as he was. They hadn’t gotten far before they’d been interrupted anyway. Now that the ceremony was over and Lana had departed, he doubted he’d ever get that chance again.

Zelda sighed, looking away, taking a step towards the window. “Over one thousand years ago, an ancestor of mine nearly destroyed Hyrule. He accused the Sheikah of becoming too powerful with their technological prowess, fearing their betrayal. He attacked the Gerudo, our allies, over a past war and the whiff of treachery. He nearly destroyed the people’s faith in the monarchy entirely.”

Link paused, blinking, wondering where this was going. Zelda continued, “All it took was one bad king to nearly ruin the kingdom. His wife tried to pick up the pieces as best she could. She named their daughter Zelda, a name that hadn’t been given to a royal since the days of the Sacred Diplomat and the Imprisoning War. It brought a sense of duty and hope to it. People thought that maybe danger was coming as well, with a bad king and a princess named Zelda… but nothing happened. The princess took the throne and was a good queen, and she helped try to patch up the mess her father had made.”

When she didn’t say anything else, Link walked up to her, prompting a response, and she smiled sadly, looking at her reflection. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? The difference one monarch can make. She helped rebuild the kingdom, just like her previous namesake. She became known as Zelda, the Healer. Her life was proof that the Imprisoning War’s seal had worked – a time where a ruler who bore such a name lived while Hyrule was in peril, and not once was there a threat from a demonic force.”

Her smile faded. “Yet I almost let a sorceress release him again. I am the first to bear the name since the Healer, and the kingdom has fallen into ruin under my care.”

Link’s eyes widened, and he took a small step forward. “Zelda—”

“I am a queen of bones, ash, and rubble,” Zelda said sharply, glaring at him, tears in her eyes. “I did this, Link.”

“You fought for your people, you defeated Cia,” Link argued. “You had faith in me when even I didn’t. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have the Master Sword, the kingdom would still be at war.”

Zelda’s sharp look softened, and she sighed. “Destiny was on our side, yes. As it always is. It was silly of me to ever doubt it at any point. The goddesses look out for their people. We will fulfill our divine duties together, Link.”

Well, at least she seemed to be feeling better. But what destiny awaited him now? Hers was obvious, but Link… would he simply remain a captain in the military?

Zelda turned to face him fully, reaching out to hold the locket as it hung around his neck. “You are my Hero. Fate has interwoven our lives together, time and again. Together, we will rebuild Hyrule. The last Hero joined with the queen, as the goddesses dictate. Cia knew it to be true, and when she defied it she failed. Even Lana knows it. How can we go wrong, then, with such ties between us?”

An unfamiliar feeling sank over him, like icy water pouring over his body. Zelda wasn’t supposed to be someone who made him feel this unsafe, feel like Cia was whispering in his ear while he stormed her castle filled with idols of himself.

Link swallowed. He wanted to argue a little, to clarify what he thought she was implying. There was no way the two of them could—she surely wasn’t suggesting they married, was she? They were friends, but that—such a commitment—

Was that what was expected of him, as the Hero of Hyrule?

Zelda nodded to herself, sighing. Then she smiled, seeming almost relieved. “With the dreams and everything… I’m glad it was you, Link. I’m glad it was someone I knew and trusted. You’re a good man.”

Link tried to smile in return, feeling somewhat ill at ease with her cryptic words but still somehow comforted by the warmth of her tone. “I’ll always be here for you, Zelda.”

His friend almost giggled, letting out a breathy laugh. “I’m glad destiny brought us together.”

Link felt his smile grow strained. Although he shared the same sentiment, the heaviness of the implications nearly crushed him. He wished desperately that Proxi were there as he lost his nerve. Zelda sighed, patting him on the shoulder.

“We should probably get back to the party,” she sighed. “I’m glad you wanted a break too. I thought I was the only one overwhelmed.”

Link did find he could speak to that. “I’m surprised. You… I mean, you grew up with this.”

Zelda glanced away, moonlight cascading through torn curtains, creating patterns on her face and hiding the rest of her in shadow. “I always had my parents before. It’s… different now. When I’m the only one. Besides… I… I chose to hone my skills as a warrior for a reason. I knew I would be in the spotlight eventually, but I… never enjoyed the thought of it.”

Link felt his heart clench, and he unconsciously fiddled with the locket that now sat in his scarf. “You’re not alone, Zelda.”

The queen remained motionless a moment, processing the words, before closing her eyes and smiling. “Yes. I’m not alone.”

She smiled at him once more, all the warmth of a merry hearth radiating from her and filling his heart. “Let’s go together, Link.”

As much as he didn’t want to rejoin the party and the scrutiny, he’d do so for his friend. As much as he was not keen on being gawked at, he felt safer with her. But a touch of unease still made his stomach churn, her words from earlier clenching in his heart and twisting it.

Destiny had tied them together. And he… was grateful for it too, truly. But… Link had… he’d always wanted to help. But perhaps… he didn’t know. He just…

Why did he feel like he didn’t have a choice in this? Why did Zelda act like she didn’t have a choice in this? She was relieved that Link was the Hero, as if… as if she’d been fearing her life would be interwoven with someone she wouldn’t like, as if she had no say in the matter over her own fate.

He didn’t know. He just… he didn’t know.

What did it truly mean, he wondered, to be the Hero of Hyrule? What lay ahead now that the war was over?

The war that had been fought because of him.

Because of him.

Link suddenly felt cold dread freeze his blood, and he stopped as Zelda continued ahead. Cia’s obsessions, her whispers, her desire still made his skin crawl. He felt like he didn’t even have control of his own body, his own being, and…

You are my Hero. Fate has interwoven our lives together.

Link stayed hidden in the shadows, hugging himself, suddenly cold and alone.

XXX

General Impa watched the festivities from afar. She wasn’t uncomfortable in the crowds, but she wanted to keep an eye on someone.

Queen Zelda reemerged from one of the castle entrances, looking far more content than when she’d entered, and the Sheikah woman sighed a little, relieved. She figured some time with Link would help cheer the girl.

Impa had watched Zelda grow up. She’d served the king and queen faithfully for ten years, and had been the princess’ guardian in that time, tasked with the highest honor a Sheikah could ask for. Zelda had always been a good and cheerful child, enjoying her time by playing music, having imaginary tea parties, and, eventually, training both her magic and combat abilities. It had been a strange turn of events to Impa when the young princess had asked her to teach her how to fight. When questioned on the matter, Zelda’s response had simply been, “I want to be brave.”

Impa could still hear the little ten-year-old’s voice as if it were yesterday, could still hear her rebuttal. “You don’t have to hold a sword to be brave.”

“You make me brave,” the little princess had replied, as if that explained everything.

The general watched the queen now, how she squared her shoulders as if marching onto the battlefield. Even now, she still held fear in her heart. Impa knew the teenager was insecure, knew that she’d fought hard to protect herself from her own anxieties, how the beginning of the war had nearly destroyed her, and she knew she would triumph over that fear now. Zelda had survived the war, the terrors and mistakes and victories and losses. If she could handle that, she could handle being queen. The people loved her, and she had Link and Impa to help her.

There would be hardships, Impa knew that. But with the conflict behind them, she knew that whatever the future brought, it would be easier in comparison. Zelda’s nightmares that had scared her throughout her childhood were over.

Far from the festivities, blades clashed amidst the desert sands. To the north the white sorceress sat alone in her destroyed home, head in her hands, body wracked with pain, heart wracked with guilt.

And, just like that, the cursed cycle forged anew as amber eyes glared into the ruins of the desert.

[wutheringmights]

Chapter 29: The Fairy Proxi & The King's Guard Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Additional Tags: Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Alternate Universe, Character Study, War, world building, Trauma, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Political Intrigue, Found Family, Angst and Humor, Warriors is a very complicated person, Warriors also does not know Time is Mask, Warriors (Linked Universe)-centric, Canon-Typical Violence, Heavy Angst, Manipulation, Morally Ambiguous Character, Please read content warnings before each chapter, Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Physical Abuse, Implied Sexual Content, Power Imbalance, Implied/Referenced Torture, Blood and Injury, Disabled Character, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat Summary: “You are going to hear a lot of terrible things about me. Most of it is going to be true.” Being the hero who saved Hyrule from a bloody war was a thankless job that left Warriors with more regrets than he cared to remember. He only started to heal after meeting his fellow heroes from across time and joining them on their quest to defeat the black-blooded monsters. But when his time-hopping journey takes him back home, he finds his kingdom on the brink of war once more. This war threatens to ensnare not only Warriors, but his newfound family as well. Warriors will do whatever it takes to keep them safe, even if that means becoming a traitor to the kingdom he gave up everything to save. But the harder Warriors works to protect his family, the more the secrets of his dark past come to life. Who is Captain Link Walton, the Hero of Warriors? What happened to the two other heroes he had once fought alongside all those years ago? When this is over, will Warriors even have a family left to save or is he doomed to repeat his past mistakes? (Once, there were three brothers: the captain, the engineer, and the child. Their story did not have a happy ending.)

I was going to joke about how not even AO3 outages can stop this fic, but an AO3 outage did in fact prevent me from posting last night.

Did I use that time to fix all of the obvious flaws in this chapter? No. This chapter is a plague upon my existence, and I wish I had bludgeoned it to death with a baseball bat.

In this installment of, ya know, this whole mess:

Link tries to help the mysterious light he found in the snow

Warriors endeavors to establish a foothold of power within Castle Town

Hey kids! Do you like learning the names of random old men? No? Too bad :)

>> Read It Here >>

[theoneeyedgoldenwolf]

Lost comment =(

I know someone wrote amazing comment into my story Brothers not bound by blood in AO3 but now that comment is gone! D= It was so heartwarming and awesome by telling how well I brought out the complexity of brotherhood and the past between Time and Warriors.

I think the comment was done by being logged in but I'm not entirely certain anymore if it was from a guest. Either way I'm seriously saddened of having lost that comment. T.T Why would anyone delete something like this? =(

Has anything like this happened to anyone else? Just having had a comment in one of the stories and then few days later it just having vanished. TT.TT

I love ALL comments and I NEVER delete any of them. They are what keeps me uploading the stories. I keep going back to the comments nearly each day just to read them and get the love and reason to keep on writing and uploading.

If You, the one whom wrote that amazing comment, read this, PLEASE return it! Even if you wouldn't remember fully what you wrote, I just wish to get it back in one form or another. It was awesome little surprise back then as I had been sick for few days already. It really made my day and defs helped to heal from the common cold. =) Thank You!

Edit: So happy of AO3 sending the comments into e-mail! ^.^ It's there safe and sound! =D Just a shame it's not in where it should be anymore. =/ Still, I'm happy of having the comment nonetheless. ^.^

[ksbbb]

PSA:

OK so I feel that this needs to be said again and I am not talking to everyone. Please don’t think I’m talking to my followers or most of my mutuals on here, but I do think it’s something that should be addressed again. If you don’t like a story, you are under no obligation to read it, and you can easily click out of it or completely find a way to never read my stories again.

Just because you don’t like Theo, doesn’t mean you should be coming onto a story and trashing him as a character and in doing so, trash me as a writer in my story because of some issues you have with the way Jeff Davis wrote a character.

We all write stories for free, and in our own personal time for fun. I understand everyone’s story is not for every single individual, and I think it’s important that we understand to be a productive member of society and not trash people on the website because you feel some type of way about a character.

I will not be taking my story scenting down. Thank you.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk .

I am a Theo Stan until the day I die 

Here’s the story in case other people would rather read it and don’t worry I did delete those comments.



[beatleshalloween]

Updated story

It's late at night on John Lennon's birthday and he is listening to his answering machine recordings.

Updated 12/6/2024

[cybrfang]

Soooo I'm making a fanfic and it's set in the 1600s, and Sleep Token is maybe a lil evil and kinda a cult and maybe MC is a witch 👀 but I can't say for sure

If you wanted to check it out 👉🏻👈🏻 my gf helped me with period accurate clothing for the boys and stuff 🥹

[ugletamaki]

Author's Comments 2

Hello all owls! 

This is a continuation of the Author's Comments section of the blog. For those who don't know, it's where I comment on moments in the story that I found interesting and discuss them.

Previously, I commented on the first chapters of the story "Game of Life". So if you're interested, start with the first installment, "Author's Comments 1".

However, please note that these comments may be a bit spoilerish. But if you don't care, that's fine with me.

I hope everything goes well for you. Enjoy your reading:

Hmm... Indeed. He's right about that. He'd be a good leader in a game like this, though.

Maybe that was his plan? Who knows?

She spoke great wisdom. I'm proud of her. (But the thing is, I wrote that sentence... Does that mean I praised myself? That's quite an accomplishment).

It was a nice compliment. Way to go!

Hmm, no. I think she's the one who wants to control Kendo like a puppet.

Interesting fact: The thing is, in the original, this sentence was in English. And yes, I'm translating my story from Ukrainian into English. Since I'm studying English and Norwegian now, I decided to translate that English part into Norwegian.

I wish I had the kind of confidence he has. (I don't mean arrogance, I mean adequate confidence.)

Now he's getting cocky. Deka, you're in trouble now. (Actually, it's not the first time this has happened.)

Well, if only it were that simple, Aloya.

Yes, sometimes I too feel like saying something bad to a person who is not behaving well. But in this respect I am quite cultured and try not to say these words out loud. (No one can cancel thoughts.)

Well, you can be good when you want to be good.

I think it's clear why the protagonist was able to get through the door. Since she is clearly not an angel, which can be said for the others as well. Although there are always exceptions to the rule.

Yes... maybe you need to learn to shut your mouth in time. It's your enemy.

And here he is, finally showing his true colors. And of course he won't say who he really is. You think he's that stupid? Even though he's still a teenager.

Yes... That can be said for the world people live in, unfortunately.

They both have suspicions about each other. Only Deka has a different agenda, which is problematic as long as Agora is around.

And she showed her teeth. But she's not exactly your enemy. Though if I were threatened, I'd be afraid of her, too...

Yes, Deka is very lucky to have a girl with a split personality and a crazy girl on the team.

Well, that explains why Agora's looking at Kendo with such relish. She wants to take his heart. Literally!

I don't think those are normal feelings. People don't die after normal feelings.

Oh, the girls are fighting. Now that's a fight to the death.

So much for true brotherly love. Deka would tear everyone apart for him.

That's what I call teamwork.

Yeah, you're the stable people. Hugging in front of a dead person, that's a skill. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Thank you all for reading. It was ugletamaki ~

[moonshine-nightlight]

Hi, hi! I've been reading some of your work and when I saw you had a tumblr I just had to come pay your inbox a visit.

I just wanna say, I really love how you write! It's so, so easy to get immersed in your stories, to the point where something kind of funny happened in my case actually XD

So there I was at midnight, browsing the monster romance side of AO3 when I came across Finally Woken. I was looking something on the shorter word count side, but the summary had me very interested. So I go, hmmm I think I'll just read the first chapter to see how it is and if I like it I'll come back to it tomorrow. I definitely liked it, but wanted just a bit more, so I clicked on the second chapter. Then the third. And fourth. And so on until oops, I binged it and it was 4 am hdjsgaca

And then the next day, I was once again browsing. And came across Don't shoot the messenger. And I go, well last night was a success but tonight I definitely only read the first chapter and then if I like it finish tomorrow. Aaaah the lies we tell ourselves. Did not even notice it was the same author until I was halfway through it. This one I managed to finish before 4 am at least XD

And then! The next day! Once again browsing in bed! I come across Sacrifice! Once again didn't look at the author until later! Take a guess at what happened next, surely you will never expect the outcome! (The outcome was exactly the same. I could not stop reading. My self restraint is in shambles.)

So yeah! I just wanted to one, come and thank you for such wonderful stories, and two, compliment the heck out of your writing skills because your pacing, and atmosphere and descriptions are top notch. Like the sense of anticipation before Satrasi knew what that captain had done was chef kiss, or the sense of dread building up to the ritual and then calm once Tai finds the reader. Or the sense of domesticity as time passes with Heshi.

All reader characters and monsters feel unique as well! My personal favorite story so far is Don't shoot the messenger, Satrasi has me swooning fdhdgzh But honestly I loved all of them so much and they're going to my favorite monster romances stash. Oh also, I'm 100% going to go back and reread, kudos and comment more thoroughly on each story, but I was on another account like a fool the first time I read them all gahdgdh So hopefully you'll see me in AO3 soon as well!

Alright I've been rambling enough already haha, so yeah! Tldr, You're a great author, I am weak and procrastinated going to bed because I wanted to read your stuff, love what you do, take care! :D

@roaring-letters

thank you so much! this was such a good message to get and i've been hoarding it for lik 2 months lol because work has been so busy which is why it was even better to get such a nice ask - it really cheered me up!

i'd say i;m sorry for the accidental repeated trapping and keeping you up until 4 am but its kinda the greatest compliment ever lol so i guess i'm not sorry

i'm so happy you enjoyed the stories and the characters and the atmosphere of the stories! my writing means so much to me and i'm always worried that i'm not getting whats in my head down onto paper right so comments/asks like these are so so heartwarming because it makes me feel lik i am in fact getting it right :D

thanks again!!!!

[sad-girl-poetry]

SINNING & HEALING. THE END. AND EPILOGUE.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36062590/chapters/166154449

[imagine-mokey]

A cute George Harrison story

[catlover4536]

Ao3 is down AGAIN and I am suffering because I didn't download any fics as I reasonably thought it was over. Please I don't wanna crawl back to Fanfiction Net! I can't even get into my account there and I think I'll actually die a little if I seriously have to use wattpad.