TheDragonflyLover

Cartoon bust of a white person with buzzed hair on a burgundy background. Wearing round glasses, flared sleeves under a sweater vest, red lipstick and winged eyeliner.



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  1. Rec 55

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    “Harrowhark,” says Father Gaius, rolling the sounds around his mouth with the air of an unintentionally patronizing uncle. “That’s quite a…vivid name.”

    “It reflects my late parents’ wish for me to free their community from the hell of Earthly temptation before the new millennium,” she explains in a deadened tone. If the pastor correctly hears free as a euphemism for lead in mass suicide, he gives no indication. “They believed my birth was prophesied.”

    “Now, that would have been an interesting tidbit to list in your qualifications.” He grins, brandishing her resumé; when the joke falls utterly flat, his grin falters into something more pathetic. “The charismatics do tend to get carried away, don’t they.”

    In the year 2000, Harrow gets a job at John Gaius's church, meets his handsome and pious daughter, and things go to Hell in a handbasket.

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    24 Jan 2026

  2. Rec 72

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    Throughout her childhood, Harrow sees one specific ghost. Gideon is as helpful as she ever is.

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    23 Dec 2025

  3. Rec *

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    She feels like he’s peeling every layer of her being, one by one by one. And when he gets to her bones, he’ll find something she’ll never be able to run away from.

    “…you,” the stranger says, his hands flexing into fists. Unclenching again. “You are…”

    Gideon holds her breath. She doesn’t know why she thinks so, but it seems to her that Harrow does as well.

    The corner of the man’s lips twitches up in a smile.

    “You’re the spitting image of your mother.”

    ---

    Or: what if Pyrrha rescued Gideon from the Ninth as a child?

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    23 Dec 2025

  4. Rec *

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    Gideon remembers the first time they stuck Harrow on the ice, in her matching puffy pants and coat and her sombre black helmet, like shoving a cranky baby rook out of the nest. She fell down immediately, and when none of the adults seemed about to step in and right her, Gideon did it herself. She could skate backward by then, so she took Harrow’s mittened hands and tugged her along in slow, endless circles. She remembers—or thinks she remembers, maybe it’s just her mind filling in from later examples—Harrow’s furrowed, pinched expression of furious concentration. She always hated needing help. More than she hated Gideon, maybe. But that day, for the few hours it took her to get her blades under her, she scowlingly accepted both.

    Or, the figure skating AU that happens when I binge watch too much Grand Prix coverage.

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    16 Dec 2025

  5. Rec 15

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    Harrow finds you sitting at the shuttle bay, wrapped in layers and layers of soil-brown cloth to keep the chill off, face painted with the ochre paint the nuns gave her, and she says, “You’re leaving.” It’s not an argument, nor a question — it’s an observation. She sounds numb.

    “Don’t tell me that’s surprising,” you say with a lazy grin that you do not mean and do not really feel.

    what's left of gideon, and what's left to find

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    11 Dec 2025