#I've always liked the idea of a modern au where the characters have nightmares of canon

[mithrilhearts]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ♥️

PIXIE!!! MY BELOVED!!!!

So I've already done this, which you can find here, but I want to still do it again, but this time I'll talk about WHY these specific fics are "my favorite" (even though I love them all for a variety of reasons.)

In no particular order, I picked these as my top five, and here's why!

→ may your forge burn bright This is my first big fic. Honestly, getting into writing fanfic was so nerve wracking. I was so used to just 1:1 roleplaying characters, but to mold the story by myself was...a challenge, and I started out with a few one shots and decided I wanted to do something bigger. It was a great challenge for me, and while the fic is still ongoing, it's still my "I'm learning" fic, I feel. It's what really launched me into writing fics, and probably into the fic-fandom for bagginshield. It's my baby.

→ dragonhearted My second big fic!! Based on my two favorite pieces of media, and honestly, I had the idea of this type of au right out of the gate. It all aligned so perfectly, but I wasn't going to do it. I didn't feel like I could do either story justice in mashing them together. However, I'm going to lay the blame at @dwarvishring's feet for unintentionally giving me the push to just...do it. Now it's become one of the fics that I feel like I'm known for, one of my favorites, and we all know it's @i-did-not-mean-to's favorite as well. It's VERY special to me.

→ when darkness shines brightest My first collaborative project!! I've always loved working with Star on commissions and screaming about various ideas, but this fic actually...started out as a joke. Bagginshield applies to everything haha, and we talked about Nightmare Before Xmas and other things that kind of fit together...and this...whole ass story popped out. I'm having such a great time, and it's definitely one of those stories that feels the most "original" to me. Thank you for being such an awesome partner, @stardryad-random!!!

→ bookbinder//songwriter My first modern au!!! Honestly this whole list is a bunch of firsts for me. This was originally a prompt for a one shot, if I remember correctly, and it TERRIFIED me. Modern AU is something I am still afraid of, but growing to love more and more, and I have grown so very attached to these interpretations of the characters. It's one of those slice of life type of fics with little problems to solve and great joys to be had.

→ where the shadows lie Alright, this is one of those fics where if I'm feeling particularly cheeky or impish, this is where I go. It's such a crackshit fic with the most ridiculous things. When things don't need to be serious, I come here and fall into this silly little world - and it has a plot!! In the background, anyway. It's just so much fun and hits differently than my other stories. Plus, it's a great head nod to one of my other favorite sources of media, What We Do In The Shadows.

[por-cel-ain]

in restless dreams, i see another you

Rating: 13 & up (Injury described in detail, potential gore(?)) Word count: 1200 Media/pairing: ffxv, promnis

Ignis wasn't entirely certain where he was.

He quickly concluded that, wherever on earth this place was, it was a small, run-down log cabin. There was a distinct amount of cobwebs all over, as well as what looked to be a fairly thick, undisturbed layer of dust on everything in sight--which honestly wasn't much, only a few pieces of furniture. The dirty, time-worn windows all had at least one worrying crack through them, and appeared to be heavily frostbitten on the outside. He took a few wary steps forward, hastily looking around for any sort of clues as to how he even got here in the first place, given that his strangely fuzzy memory offered him no answers. He was in the living room, and just a little ways off seemed to be an open kitchen with a table and a couple of chairs situated by it, though one had apparently been knocked over at some point. As he approached the admittedly odd scene, he glanced back up at the table and found himself frozen to the spot. A familiar camera was set on the surface, busted up and clearly broken, along with a black wristband that had been viciously ripped in two. Prompto, he immediately thought, his blood running cold at the sight. Where is he? Thinking fast, he turned away and made a beeline for a door that he saw in the corner of his eyes earlier, a bit surprised when he saw a coat rack right by it with one of his thick winter jackets hung up on it, in perfect condition. ...why is this here? I've never even seen this place before, he pondered, immensely confused. Regardless, the obvious cold from outside had already seeped enough into the building to send goosebumps flaring up over even his covered skin, and without further questioning he snatched the jacket up and hurriedly slung it over his shoulders, zipping it up while he turned the doorknob and finally stepped outside. He was instantly blasted with fierce, freezing winds the second he set foot onto the creaky porch, and he quickly pulled up his high collar and flipped the hood over his head, squinting through what had to be a blizzard going on around him.

"Prompto!" he called out into the seemingly unending white, his voice nearly drowned out by it. As he walked further, he noticed that there were boot prints in the snow, heading out directly forward from the steps. The second thing he noticed was the bright streaks of blood that accompanied them like horrible shadows. "No," he breathed, struck with a fear more intense than anything he'd ever felt in his entire life. Somehow, he just knew that those tracks were Prompto's, and that something terrible had happened. Nearly slipping on the ice that had frozen over the old wood, he all but flew from the steps and raced to follow the prints, forcing himself through the several-inch-thick snow. He wasn't sure how long or far he ran; he quickly lost sight of the cabin, and had yet to be able to make out anything else in the pelting snowfall. But the tracks continued on, and so did he. He has to be okay, he thought, desperately trying to keep his heart from pounding right out of his chest as he stared at the red blotches in the snow, wishing that he could just look away. He has to be. Suddenly, the prints came to a stop, and at their end was a dark lump lying in a pool of blood. "Prompto!" He surged forward, collapsing to his knees before his curled up body and instantly wrapping his arms around him, turning him around to check his injuries. His clothes were torn and ripped in more places than he could count, and along with them nasty cuts and gashes in his chilled skin. At first, his eyes were drawn to his right wrist, which had been painfully sliced up and seemingly mangled by--by...heat? The flesh was crusted and scorched, and he could swear that he saw hints of bone through all of the bubbled blood. Then, he looked over, and saw Prompto staring right through him with pale, glazed-over eyes, so alien and unfamiliar without their usual spark of life in them, and a cry of shocked grief caught in his throat.

"--no," Ignis gasped breathlessly, shooting upright from the pillow he'd previously been tossing and turning on. The burning cold slowly dissipated from his mind as it fully woke up, and the longer he started at the wall of their dark bedroom the less he actually remembered of the awful world he'd just been in. All except every little detail of those dreadful, lifeless eyes that he’d had the misfortune of staring into. He caught his breath slowly and carefully, blinking away tears as he gradually reeled his soul back into his body after the emotional whiplash of everything that just transpired. It was a dream, he realized, dazedly taking in the sight of the room, the pale moonlight coming in through the window, the bed he was laying in; piece by piece, memory by memory. It was...all of it...it was all only a dream... Without even thinking, he glanced down to his left to find Prompto at his side, curled up and peacefully sleeping beneath the blanket. He simply stared at him for a good minute or two, watching how his side slowly rose and fell with each gentle breath. He's...he's okay. Overcome with an odd sort of heartache that was steadily being replaced by pure, unadulterated relief, he rolled over and hurried to snuggle up to his back, squeezing his arms around his waist and pressing the side of his face to his neck. The faint traces of his cologne immediately filled his senses, soothing his frazzled nerves, and he buried his face harder against him to needily breathe him in.

"Mmm," the sleepy groan brought him out of his chaotic train of thought, and he peered open an eye to find Prompto shifting to try and look back at him as best as he could, given the angle. "Iggy...?" he mumbled, clearly only half-awake. "Is somethin' wrong?" For just a moment, he considered his options.

"No, darling," he murmured, nuzzling back down to him. "I just...had something of a fright, is all. Everything's alright." He doesn't need to know about the horrible things I saw. Certainly not in detail, in any case. Prompto was silent at first, probably trying to sluggishly process what he'd been told. Then, he shifted even more, rolling over to face him and wrapping tiredly-weak arms around his neck in an embrace, letting him hide his face against the hollow of his throat.

"Everything's alright," he quietly echoed into his hair, sounding as if he was trying to reassure him. Ignis honestly wouldn't have been surprised if, even in his current state, he was able to sense his stress coming off of him in waves. Finally able to let his tense muscles relax, he all but melted into him, pressing affectionate kisses to his skin and gently grasping at the back of his shirt; just so that he had something to hold, something to keep him grounded to reality. I'll never let anything like that happen to you, he thought with a determined furrow of his brow, protectively squeezing him just a bit harder. Not ever. His grip only loosened when he managed to drift back off to sleep a few minutes later, his new slumber dreamless and comfortingly dark.