#fic: i regret you all the time

[calamitoustide]

I REGRET YOU ALL THE TIME!

Would've Could've Should've - Taylor Swift/Hoax - Taylor Swift/@heavensghost/unknown/I Regret You All The Time - @inevitablestars/Would've Could've Should've - Taylor Swift/I Regret You All The Time - Inevitablestars/Repeat Until Death - Novo Amor/I Regret You All The Time - Inevitablestars/Would've Could've Should've - Taylor Swift/I Regret You All The Time - Inevitablestars/Stay Down - Boygenius/I Regret You All The Time - Inevitablestars/Repeat Until Death - Novo Amor/Unknown/Letter to an Old Poet - Boygenius/Hoax - Taylor Swift/I Regret You All The Time - Inevitablestars/Michael Cunningham The Hours/No Surprises - Radiohead/Would've Could've Should've - Taylor Swift/Repeat Until Death - Novo Amor/Letter to an Old Poet - Boygenius/Unknown/Waiting for This Story to End Before I Begin Another -  Jan Heller Levi/I Regret You All The Time - Inevitablestars/Hoax - Taylor Swift/You Missed My Heart - Phoebe Bridgers/Would've Could've Should've - Taylor Swift

[inevitablestars]

Fic authors self rec!

thank you sm for the tag @pretentiouswreckingball

When you get tagged, post your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love

(summaries below, me rambling in the tags)

bite the hand | wolfstar, nonbinary sirius, exes to lovers | 120k

It’s them and Remus, it’s always going to be them and Remus. Nothing can break that. Except for themselves. Which evidently they are very good at doing… So hope is what they cling to. More than love, more than history, more than anything. - or - Sirius and Remus have gotten into a cycle of breaking up and making up, except this time is going to be different.

i regret you all the time | jegulus, death eater james | 80k

What happens when James falls for Regulus and his friends lose their trust in him?

take care of you and yours | jegulus, wolfstar, dorlily, sirius centric | currently 100k soon to be 200k

Sirius plans a fun summer at the lake with all of their friends, but it doesn't go quite to plan. Friends become more, hatred becomes love, and people unravel until there is nothing left.

the stars that bind us | jegulus, wolfstar, black family centric | currently 99k dont ask how long it will be

Regulus is an author of four, soon to be five, books all written under a pen name. They tell the stories of each of his cousins, brother, and himself, and how they left home and each other. He has done his best to keep them from finding out about his books, but what happens when they do? How do the five of them fit back together after so many years?

you had to go (i know, i know, i know) | black brothers | 3.6k

He saw it coming. At least there’s that, right? At least Sirius told him before he left. At least Regulus got to say goodbye to his brother.

no pressure tagging: @calamitoustide @itsjaywalkers @magswrite @starsworth @aurorboros @galaxostars @sugarsnappeases @quillkiller <333333

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Smell Check [Easy: Failure]

MDZS Disco Elysium AU part 1 (part 2 - part 3)

[katkat030]

Hermitcraft/Life Series Fic Recs!!!

I am absolutely insane about so many of these and I genuinely can't recommend them enough. Like the post that inspired this, I'll probably tag authors if I know their Tumblr urls, but please let me know if you want me to remove any and I will!

Fair warning that most of these have shipping!

-

But oh, the bloom by @sillyfairygarden (read here) ongoing.

Ough. Whimsy, Pearlescentmoon, the best version of desertduo I've ever read, and indecipherable sounds of me screaming. If there's one fic I ever want people to read, it's this one. There's a reason I'm putting this first, as much as I hate to pick favourites! Warning: you may will fall in love with the story. Possibly my favourite author - cannot recommend their works enough <3 (The Champion's Banquet also made me go not just a little insane)

It's an absolute necessity to highlight the tags on this one: blows a kiss to the sky. for all my pearliemoon lovers searching for wonder and whimsy in the world around you // Now with more angst! // a man leaves the life he loved to explore the beauty of the world

More fic recs under the cut!

you came at the brink of the end of the world by Anonymous/ @louiessleeplessnights (read here) ongoing.

I don't know how to even begin describing this. I think it made me fall in love with Boatem all over again. It's hilarious, sad, beautiful, Scar calls Grian trouble, they're both idiots and in love, and it's everything I'd look for in a published novel and so much more. This fic permanently altered my brain chemistry and I cannot recommend it enough times. SO SO SO well written. Warning: it's rated explicit, but a few updates ago it was just mature - chapter 20 and the first half of chapter 21 are the ones you might want to skip if that's not your jam! It's just kissing but it gets... a bit heated lmao.

An excerpt from the description:

[grian is falling from the sky, scar has more magic in his blood than he realized, and everyone else is so much better at seeing than they are]

-

Redstone and Skulk by @silverskye13 (read here) ongoing.

Once again lost on how to describe this. Could I leave it at "please please please please read it I love it so much", by any chance? The worldbuilding is so fleshed out, probably my favourite example of characterisation I've ever seen and the descriptions are everything.

Helsknight and Tanguish (the hels version of Tango) are the duo ever. There's no shipping in this, just intense platonic bonds and lifetime devotion featuring a cranky knight and a pathetic wet cat. I love them so much.

Excerpt from the description:

Tanguish is Tango's hels, and they get along a lot better than most hels and their hermits should. Unfortunately, the universe wasn't made to house both of them. Helsmets were made to return to their hermits eventually, making a complete person. Except what happens when the hels is the stronger of the two? What happens if they really don't want to be?

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there are many downsides to being a marine biologist by donnerstag/ @martynsimp69 (read here) complete.

Unashamed to say I binge read this in exactly two days; 26 chapters, an epilogue, accompanying mermay oneshot collection (read here) and nearly crying later, I'm here to say you should totally check it out too. Because fis 🐠 and mermaid Martyn Warning: some unethical experimentation, and I think there's mention of alcohol.

-

Hot Tea by @tunastime (read here) complete.

The Ethubs fic ever (and the first one I ever read!) This is what introduced me to *gesturing vaguely* whatever the heck they have going on, and I haven't been the same since. Warning: brainrot.

I'm once again stealing something from the description since tumblr oh-so-helpfully destroyed half my draft:

“Let me over,” Bdubs says again, and as he sees Etho open his mouth in protest yet again, he lurches forward, stuttering out his words. He nearly knocks the tea out of his own hands. “Just—just for tonight. Just tonight.” Etho knows he has to divide the base between them. It's the only way to settle, now, knowing everything between them. How Bdubs shouldn't be there. Etho builds the fence. Etho divides them. And Etho divides himself in the process.

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Between Us, We Have An Ocean by inkachu (read here) complete.

Only recommending this because it made me cry, and it's so well written. No shipping, just a foster care au in which Gem and Etho are... siblings. That doesn't even begin to cover how much the story really gripped me. It's soft, it's sweet, it's sad, it's amazing. Warning: I haven't cried while reading a book in probably a decade, and this is the one exception. Not to worry, I promise it won't hurt too much (saying how it ends would be a spoiler, but I promise the ending won't haunt you forever).

It's so gooood.

An excerpt from the description:

“My mum couldn’t take care of me, so she gave me to Canada.” Gem announced cheerily, swapping her red pencil for a yellow one, drawing what could only be a sun in the top corner of her page. “Then Canada found me a new mum.” Etho clicked his tongue. “Right.” “What about your mum?” “She uh, Couldn’t take care of me either. So I go to other people’s houses and they take care of me for her.”

-

From the Archives by @sixteenth-days (read here) complete.

there's also an extra bunch of character studies/AUs/very cool bonus stories called From the Archives: Marginalia (read here) complete (?)

riverbed and mouse hole/black hole from Marginalia are my personal favourites. Playing around with like the physical structure of a text that way is super inspirational. I have all of the main fics downloaded to reread offline whenever I'm travelling/away from home! There's no need to know anything about The Magnus Archives to understand - personally I'd never heard of it before reading this. Also no shipping in the main fic :)

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lost in the dark (he's got a heavy heart) by @definitelynotshouting (read here) (author's explanation of the premise here) ongoing.

Warning: I'll give the warning for this one straight up, there are heavy themes like suicide and depression - Grian is going through it! If you're going to read it at least heed the ao3 tags :)

I'm stealing an excerpt from the fic to explain this one:

This hunger is a low rumble deep at the core of him, steady in the same way one might test a newly healed bone. The kind of fragile after a respawn, when your skin has knit together but the echo of pain still lingers. It doesn't hold him hostage anymore– he can muster the strength to look past it, and that, out of everything that's happened to him over the past year, is what's most frightening.

-

Time to Kill Today by RimeThyme/ @going-to-the-sun (read here)

Featuring THE Ethubs song ever, some cool references to Mindcrack, and a really ineresting take on their relationship over the years. <33 read it, you won't regret it!

-

Laugh rule - list of titles that made me laugh, mainly oneshots

THE DIVORCE OF THE CENTURY by glossyblue/ @good-chimes (read here)

The Government Institute for Ghost Supervision (G.I.G.S.) by glossyblue (read here)

The Rules of Buttercup Camp by glossyblue (read here)

Dead Heat by glossyblue (read here)

Interlude from Another Reality: Married Life by sixteenthdays (read here)

-

Okay 2 more fic recs and I'm done, I promise xD

You Could've Applied Online by Anonymous (read here)

Actually hilarious and such fun to read! Stealing something from the description again:

Bdubs stuttered over his words, hand holding the knife tensing around the handle as he looked around the room. Was he being pranked? Did Scar do this? He couldn’t think of another conversation that had confused him more than this. Etho’s eyes crinkled around the edges, mouth subtly changing into what Bdubs imagined was a smile as he felt irritation creep into his mind. “You’re joking right now.” Another shift under the mask. He was definitely smiling now. “How’d you guess?” Or: Bdubs kills someone (on purpose), makes people angry (NOT on purpose), and somehow gets a boyfriend in the process. Or was he a bodyguard? Bdubs doesn't really know himself. Oh, and Etho just wants to pay his rent on time. Preferably without another dead roommate.

-

Spring Blossoms by Fire_Cat (read here)

Ethubs, Stardew Valley-esque. Super fun read, highly recommend :D

Stealing from the description once more:

Burnt out and exhausted with city life, Etho packs up and moves to the old abandoned farm his parents owned before he was born. It's sat empty for thirty years and it's not in a good state, but he's determined to make the most of it. The town is full of good people, and he quickly finds friendship in abundance. Amongst them all though, one stands out. Bdubs is kind and funny and exceptionally talented at a number of things. He's handsome too, and Etho can't help but crush on him, just a little bit. They get along fantastically right from day one, but Etho keeps his feelings to himself. It's just a crush, it'll go away. And besides, it's not like Bdubs would ever like him back... Right?'

-

If you end up reading and enjoying any of these, PLEASE go and give the authors some love in the comments! Writing really isn't an easy feat (or quick)

[tapakah0]

[dipperscavern]

hiiii! the anon who requested the Mike x fem!reader fic here. please don't apologise, I can totally understand😭😭 the show's too addictive, I binged watched the first few seasons really quick too, you can take your time🫶🏾

HII IM SO SORRY FHIS TOOK SO LONG GRR. honestly, i really struggled w this 😭 i didn’t make it very long or defined (i wanted this to set the tone of their relationship), and i left it pretty open ended (on purpose) so it could be built off of in other continuations as maybe a clientsdaughter!reader 🙂‍↕️thank u sm for the ask & i hope u enjoy!! (this is ass)

mike ross x fem!clientsdaughter!reader

mike had learned a countless amount of knowledge since joining the firm. how to talk to people, how to negotiate, how to work, how to win. along with this, he also learned the workings of the office itself — more so the people that were in it.

kyle talks to his girlfriends throughout the day. it’s often mike can catch him leaned back in his chair, not-so-discreetly checking his phone, eyebrows raising as he clicks on the selfie he was sent.

louis keeps his favorite breakfast bars in the top cabinet. rachel chews her lip when she’s thinking. the fax machine only listens to donna — don’t mention if harvey’s having a bad hair day, he knows.

oh. and don’t sleep with clients.

not getting involved with clients was a general rule of thumb. according to harvey, the less emotion involved, the better. even so, harvey himself was guilty of sleeping with a few clients — after business was done, of course. but that was different. harvey was harvey, and mike was a first year associate, already tap dancing on thin ice. he could absolutely not afford to break any rules — no matter how unspoken they might be.

truly, it was all going fine. until he met you.

you & your father are in the racehorse industry. famous for the record breaking times your horses submit (& the world-class conditions they’re always in), thousands come to the races to bet on them. your family has been breeding, training, and racing horses for decades, and your father loves his job. there’s only one issue.

he’s currently being sued for “wrongful termination” by an ex employee. the employee mistreated multiple horses during his time working for you & your father. once you both found out, he was gone.

now, 4 months later, when your most famous horse “knights honor” has died, the employee is claiming the horse was milkshaked before his races (he was not).

“Milkshaked? What the hell is that?”

harvey’s voice carried through his office as jessica presented the case to him & mike. your father was a friend to her, and it was important that harvey got this done. mike remembers the article he read years ago on racehorses when knights honor won his first championship.

“In the context of horse racing and illegal substances, a milkshake is any compound or combination of compounds administered to a horse, pre-race, for the purpose of causing.. metabolic alkalosis of the blood and extracellular fluid of that horse. Although, a previous widely used method to ensure placing times, milkshakes are a prohibited practice on race day in all U.S. jurisdictions.”

harvey and jessica exchange looks between themselves & mike. they're about to raise questions when donna's voice crackles through harvey's phone.

"Translation: Its when the horses are given a “milkshake” of different drugs before a race. It can kill fatigue and improve their endurance."

all heads look down to the phone, then at donna's desk. donna's already looking their way, of course, and she swallows under their field of vision. she shrugs.

"What? I can't.. watch tv?"

she abruptly puts the phone down, turning her chair around to type on her computer. jessica clears her throat.

"Tom is an old friend. He's genuine."

harvey interrupts. "You need me to make it go away.”

“No. This could tarnish his entire reputation… his life’s work. I need you to kill this thing in its tracks. Get it done.”

with that, jessica turns & exists the office. harvey sighs, skimming over the case file jessica dropped on his desk. he looks at mike.

“Find the daughter. Find out everything — previous arrests, divorces, a stolen tangerine from publix- I wanna know about it.”

mike nods, offering a-

“Yes, captain,”

(which makes harvey give him an exasperated look) before he retreats back to his cubicle, moving to start his manhunt. donna winks as he passes her desk.

꧁——————————————————꧂

“No, he doesn’t.”

you can sense the presence of the associate approaching behind you. you quickly thank the man working the stand as he hands you your pretzel, and you turn to face harvey’s right-hand. mike ross.

“I- You don’t even know what I was about to say.”

“Yes, I do.”

he’s cute. pretty blue eyes, a photographic memory, and a boyish charm that you can’t say you’re immune to.

“You were about to ask if he’s had any previous arrests. No, never.”

mike shakes his head. “Sorcery. Speeding tickets?”

you turn to look at him with an exasperated look. “No, officer.” he smiles.

“How did you know? That I’d ask.”

you shrug. “Ancient blood magic.”

a few moments of silence pass, and he’s silently moving his head in tune with his thoughts — like he actually believes you. you decide on mercy.

“It’s the first question lawyers always ask.”

“Ah. Been through this before?”

you shrug.

“Do you always stalk your clients?”

he doesn’t miss a beat. “Only the pretty ones- a hobby of mine.”

you hum, breaking off a piece of your pretzel and handing it to him. he sighs, leaning back.

“Oh you sweet, sweet angel.”

you both continue your walk to pearson/hardman, wanting to get there early to prep for the deposition today. mike breaks the silence once he’s done chewing.

“Do you always feed your lawyers?”

“Only the cute ones,” you break off another piece, handing it to him. “Its a hobby of mine.”

꧁——————————————————꧂

the elevator rings, signifying the end to your journey. mike is in disbelief as you step out of the elevator — mind trying to wrap around your last statement.

“What- are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

mike moves to catch up with you. “Okay, multimillion-dollar horse racing company, and you just.. have no security cameras? Zero?”

you turn to face him, giving him a defiant look that makes his heart flutter.

“I don’t see any cameras around here.”

as you approach the glass-doored conference room, mike opens the door for you.

“Touché.”

you shoot him a look across your shoulder before you move to greet your father, already waiting. mike pauses outside, staring, as you hug your father, no doubt offering some sort of reassurance.

“No.”

mikes head snaps toward the voice, harvey’s un-foreseen presence making him jump a little. mike looks around a bit.

“I.. didn’t even-“

harvey points a finger at mike, then at you, then slowly wags it back and forth for dramatics. mike sighs, looking around and putting his hands in his pockets, waiting for his scolding to be done.

“Harvey-“

“Uh uh.”

“Harvey.”

harvey continues his finger wag. “Micheal.”

“Harvey.”

harvey walks backwards towards the door, opening it with his free hand. “Don’t.. do it.”

mike rolls his eyes, following harvey into the room.

okay. don’t get with the funniest, most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. got it. easy.

easy. right?

the look you give him as he sits down proves him otherwise.

[purpleqilinwrites]

first step.

a/n: i can't get chilchuck and his wife out of my head!!!

fandom: dungeon meshi

pairing: chilchuck tims / his wife

genre: angst

info: told from the perspective of the wife; she is named (junnimay); takes place pre-canon

warnings: might not be canon-compliant

synopsis: everything in the house had a memory, but memory wasn't enough for her to stay.

word count: 2.2k

Chilchuck Tims / Chilchuck's Wife

It was supposed to be easier than pulling out a tooth. Instead, Junnimay found herself dragging her feet about the house as she took stock of all her belongings one last time before she went to bed.

Tomorrow, she would be leaving this house where she had spent almost half her life and the entirety of her adult years. This house where her daughters grew up and where her youngest was born a week late, coaxed out only by a long and complicated spell cast by a kind gnome living two houses down who happened to be a retired midwife.

This house where she once felt she had made a home.

Fler was the first of the girls to move out, wanting to live closer to the heart of the city where she was only a short walk away from the best clothiers in Kahka Brud and where she had better chances of meeting someone to marry. Mei followed suit half a year after, her hands hidden behind her back as she approached Junnimay one evening to announce the news that she had been given a room at a lodge owned by the Half-foot Union as a perk of the contract she accepted. Puck roomed with Mei for a brief period when she was employed by a wealthy tall-man family as a dog walker, before she decided to hop on a caravan with an elf she had befriended during that time.

With her daughters having places of their own to call home and Chilchuck being away on dungeon expeditions for years on end, there was nothing more than memory that kept her where she was. This house had served its purpose in her life, and she believed that it was a good time to move on from it. Even if she hadn't thought too hard about what to do next, moving out of this house and taking Fler up on her offer to live together seemed to be the right first step.

Most of the shelves in the house were bare even before Junnimay started the process of packing up about a week ago. Mei and Fler took the bulk of their belongings with them when they moved out. Junnimay stored the things they left behind in the basement, where she had marked out one set of shelves for Mei and two for Fler. Puck didn't have the luxury of space that her older sisters had, taking only what could fit in one carrying pouch and one trunk that was comically large in comparison to her then newly ten-year-old self. The rest of Puck's belongings were moved to the set of shelves in the basement that Junnimay had set apart for her.

Besides several wooden chests of lock-picking tools, two cupboards of various bottles of alcohol and the odd item of clothing that cropped up here and there, there wasn't much else in the house that belonged to Chilchuck. It made cleaning up easy when she first did her rounds in preparation to move out, putting anything that belonged to one of her girls onto their respective shelves in the basement. If she found anything that belonged to Chilchuck, she would stuff it into any bare spots in the lowest sections of the cupboards of alcohol where he also left things that he didn't know where else to place.

Before dawn broke, Junnimay was already awake. Despite having tossed and turned persistently before sleep finally came over her, she surprised herself with how easily she emerged from beneath the blankets and rose from the bed.

Having changed out of her nightclothes and gotten herself ready for work, she checked every corner of the house as if she were an inner city guard on night patrol, making sure that everything was as she left it the night before. When she was satisfied, she tied on her cloak and laced up her boots and left for the bakery for a short morning shift.

Mei was already inside the house when she came back, hunched over an open trunk as she loaded in her mother's books that had been removed from the makeshift shelves around the alcove that overlooked the sea.

That was her favourite part of the house for the longest time. Looking at it now and seeing it devoid of the signs that she had just been lounging there with a new novel and a cup of honeyed milk made her feel as though someone had reached into her chest to pinch at her heart.

("You drink more milk than the girls," Chilchuck said, all smiles and good humour as he finally emerged from the girls' bedroom after tucking them in. Junnimay laughed, leaning into his labour-roughened palm when he tucked himself into her side and smoothed his hand over her cheek. "All that milk and you've never been taller than me."

"Well, it'd be a waste if I drank honey straight from the pot, wouldn't it?")

There was a reason that she left the alcove as the last part of the house to gather her belongings from.

"I'm back," Junnimay said, softly so as not to startle her daughter who was currently preoccupied with helping her pack up. "Thank you for your help."

Mei continued her work, not looking up in order to keep her concentration. "I'm about half-done here," Mei said. "Fler's upstairs, and Puck's on her way with the wagon and the horses."

Since her books and her clothes were being taken care of, Junnimay ventured into the basement to bring up a trunk she had brought from her parents' house all those years ago. She was hit with a sudden urge to open it up and poke around inside it when she tugged off the dust cover. Something about the weathered leather encasing trunk made her feel like she was a child waiting to open her birthday present again.

("What are you doing down here?"

Junnimay jumped from her seated position on the basement floor at the sound of Chilchuck's voice. She turned around to see him coming down the stairs and fixing her with a curious look.

"You got a secret pet in here or something?" he asked, scanning the area around her. She let out a sound that was between a scoff and a chuckle, standing up and dusting off her now-wrinkled dress.

"The girls would be here too if we did have a secret dog to hide from you," she said, smiling.)

Junnimay was caressing the time-worn grooves on the latch that spelled out her mother's name when Fler shouted for her from upstairs. It didn't sound as though Fler was hurt, but she still rushed towards where she thought Fler might be when she called just in case something was wrong.

"Mama, do you...?"

Fler was standing in front of one of Chilchuck's cupboards where he kept his alcohol, her back facing her mother as her voice trailed off. Hearing footsteps behind her, Fler turned around to face Junnimay, clutching something to her chest that looked very familiar.

It was a pot of honey from her hometown.

("Jun," came Chilchuck's voice from directly in front of her. "You can open your eyes now."

When she did, she was greeted with the rare sight of her fiancé with his cheeks pink and his ears pinker as he held out a painted pot of something to her. Junnimay reached out, and he all but shoved the pot into her hands. Fumbling a little with the pot that weighed much more than it looked, Chilchuck was quick to latch his hands onto the decorative indents so that neither of them wouldn't drop it.

"Chil, is this what I think it is?" she asked, even if she already knew what was inside the pot from the sweet, sweet aroma wafting through the cloth covering the mouth of the pot, bouncing on her heels.

Chilchuck nodded, his eyes darting about awkwardly before he cleared his throat. "As promised, only the best," he said, his words coming out in an ambiguous string with how he spoke without moving his lips much. "Just for you.")

"You told us Papa got this for you a long time ago! Do you remember?" Fler was trying to gesture excitedly at the same time as she held the large piece of stoneware in her arms, coming close to dropping it more than once. "You told us—"

Junnimay wanted to answer the question, but her ability to speak failed her.

She had long since emptied the contents of the pot, being overly generous with the spoonfuls she took from it when she wanted to sweeten her milk. The girls, too, mimicked her large portions when they took turns scooping out honey for their bread in the mornings.

Chilchuck had once said something about him not being made out of gold coins, after he was drawn into the kitchen by the smell of cured meat made in the style of their shared hometown cooking in rendered lard. He had caught sight of Puck with honey smeared across almost her entire face and walked over to her to wipe it off. Puck's bowl was more honey than bread, which prompted him to remind his family that he was not, in fact, made of gold.

Junnimay could see herself laughing as she flipped over the slices of meat in the pan, knowing that Chilchuck was censoring himself since he was in front of their daughters who were too young to be spitting out expletives.

"... Of course I remember," Junnimay said, putting on a smile and inwardly cursing at herself for doing so. "I asked for a lot of honey, so he bought some for me." There was no point in putting on a smile. There was no point in pretending.

What was she pretending for?

Fler coiled her arms tighter around the pot, squeezing. Junnimay could tell that there was something she wanted to say but she didn't know how to say it. She could see it in the way Fler was staring at her face but not making eye contact, the way Fler was incessantly shifting her weight from one foot to the other and then back again.

"Why did you stop asking Papa for things?"

When Fler finally spoke, Junnimay felt the question batter the breath out of her. She inhaled slowly, finding relief in the stretch of air filling up her lungs, thinking and thinking and wishing she had the answer.

Why did she stop asking Chilchuck for things? For help? For the time of day? Why—

"Asking someone who's not around is hard, isn't it?"

The words were bitter on her lips. She spoke the truth, though oversimplified for the sake of not having this difficult conversation on this day when she needed to be strong for herself. There would be a time for that in the future, but not now.

Fler's eyes misted over with the arrival of tears. Junnimay began to fret over if she had been too harsh, but Fler started nodding to show that she understood, a slow and measured nod at first before she repeatedly bobbed her head.

"... You know, sometimes, I can't remember what Papa looks like," Fler started with a wobble in her upper lip, turning away from Junnimay for a moment to return the empty pot of honey to the place where she found it. Junnimay met her at the open cupboard doors and drew her daughter into her embrace, squeezing. "I understand where you're coming from, Mama. But— I wish— I didn't have to miss Papa so much."

"I know how it hurts, little heart. But we still have each other," Junnimay whispered, starting to choke up from her own tears. She began rubbing circles into Fler's back, swaying and humming a lullaby with Fler in her arms the way she did with all her daughters when they were much younger. "We'll always have each other."

(This neighbourhood that Chilchuck had chosen was predominantly gnomes.

The vicinity was different from their hometown where everyone was a half-foot and everything was sized accordingly. Everything was built a little larger than they were used to. Junnimay supposed it suited her husband, since he was the tallest half-foot she knew.

Gnomes weren't much taller than half-foots, so she supposed that having to reach a little further to place things on the upper shelves was something she could learn to live with. She was more relieved that Mei and Fler could grow up in an area where she need not worry about her comparatively smaller daughters getting trampled by the much larger tall-man or kobold children who didn't know better.

Away from the centre of Kahka Brud which boasted architecture quite heavily in favour of the taller races, this gnome community along a cliff that looked out on the sea was similar enough to the village they grew up in. It was the perfect place to build a home away from home.

Chilchuck stopped at the shortest house in the row of fourteen that lined the edge of the cliff.

"This is it," he said, a grin on his face so wide that his skin threatened to split. "Our new home.")

[oneluckydragon]

got hit with the echo+sora brainrot so i am once more rambling in your askbox about it. because reasons.

anywho i think there is something truly saddening about echo's struggles to make peace within herself and how she truly finds it hard to find that peace when she is so certain that if the truth about her origins were to be revealed to the world, much less to *sora*, everything she achieved, everything she worked for, all of which matters to her most, will crumble away in a moment's notice.

but the fear of losing all your life's work is none compared to the fear of losing sora. the feeling of poison that settled itself within themselves and between each other out of fear and tragedy of what had happened to them is familiar. echo's resemblance to dusknoir was already enough to set the two off because of how much it had all hurt to see someone you love and yourself turn into a mockery and a splitting image of someone who had pretended to care yet showed he never did at all, but this poison is louder. it hurts to bare, to carry, and to have none but yourself to be its sole holder.

but this poison, this feeling of heartache is different. because whereas the previous pain was something both of them felt, sora was lucky enough to not have known the truth about the person who she cares for so dearly.

echo knows that she used to be darkrai. and it haunts her to have known that her previous incarnation was so *cruel*, all for the sake of it just feeling right. wishing to engulf an entire world in darkness, solely for whatever desire she used to have.

and for how much she knows, how much she will hammer it into her own head that she is *not* like that anymore, that she looks at her past with sneer and disgust and that she will not be the barer of evil anymore, it will not matter in the slightest when she will have to look at sora if she were to ever find out.

how afraid, angry and dejected she would look when finding out, and how she will go on the defense/offense because of how much this will overwhelm her.

because when echo looks at her own shadow, she sees herself for what she is. she knows what she is, be it out of shame or guilt.

but when sora will look at it, she will see a tall, contorting and menacing shadow, towering over with a bright cyan eye doing nothing but looking at her, as if tempting her to make the next move.

and she defends herself. from someone she knows will not harm her. she raises her arms up in self defense from a hand that would never hurt her more than the world has already did.

she knows echo will not hurt her. and thats why she is afraid.

Oh my oh my OH MY, Sinnoh!!! YES YES YES!

HOW!!! IN THE WORLD!!! Are you so good at crawling into my head and creating these vivid analysis/snippets on my OCs??? I've barely shared ANY information about Echo and Sora because I've been wanting to hoard most of my stuff for when my fic is finally finished... but... I think you've broken my resolve a bit, if I'm entirely honest.

You know what? I'm so inspired by your accuracy and eagerness to talk about my girls that I'm gonna forgo my crippling anxiety regarding my writing skills and instead post a snippet of my WIP fic here as a treat for you. A teaser, if you will. Since I have no idea when the fic in question will actually be done and ready (or when I will be satisfied with it, cause the thing is currently 36,000 words and still slowly climbing). And now you've got me eager to share SOMETHING of my fic with you and anyone that might want to take a peek at it.

Please enjoy this conversation between Dusknoir and Echo. The topic deals a lot with what you'd described up above!! c:

[Note: this is an unedited part of my fic because I am still in the process of writing and it may change in the future, so please be gentle w/ me but I'd love to read any thoughts/comments that pop up while reading!! pls send asks or replies or anything really cause I love you guys]

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

“I’m going to tell you something now, and you are going to listen.” Echo commands with a sharp bite in her voice that Dusknoir cannot fathom ignoring. He pauses and then offers a slow nod, waiting, wondering what she could possibly desire to tell him at a time like this, of all things.

Minutes pass as Echo remains rooted in place, still as her own shadow, and her eyes dart around as she stares at the patches of dry grass and sand beneath her paws. Her claws clench and unclench, digging into the earth like daggers as the wind of the forest (it’s trees so close, just behind them, a looming sort of presence that could engulf them whole) whistles through the surrounding branches, carrying stray leaves of many bright greens through the chilling breeze. Dusknoir watches them dance around Echo, twirling, floating down, down, down… but it’s quiet, too quiet, and Dusknoir feels a shiver pass through him when Echo’s voice finally rings out through the silence.

"When I evolved, Sora was petrified," She says, nearly a whisper, an admission that melts away her confidence and appears to bring her a flood of both shame and regret. Her face twists up then, strangely, like she’d felt a twinge of pain from somewhere deep inside the very fabric of her own soul and was unable to quell it. "She couldn’t even bring herself to look at me most days. At first, my appearance… well, it reminded her too much of you. And eventually of someone I used to be.”

Someone I used to be. At that, Dusknoir’s immediate reaction is to recall Echo’s previous life as a human, as the miserable shell of a creature surviving alongside Grovyle that he’d relentlessly hunted in the dark future. A human made of contempt and anger and apathy, who never smiled or laughed or cried or screamed like the old legends said humans would-- an entity that simply existed rather than lived. An echo of a life long dead and buried. But, judging by her tone, by her voice, by some uneasy intuition itching in the back of his mind like a swarm of pestilent Ninjask… he knows that she means something else entirely. Something that she isn’t willing to share. And frankly, that concept utterly terrifies him.

Someone I used to be. Dusknoir wants to speak, to break his own silence, wants to ask the myriad of questions bubbling up in his throat because this isn't the first time she's hinted at another life beyond being human, but those questions die at the source like a flame doused in water. And always the coward, coward, coward, instead he takes the easy way out by doing nothing at all. Whether Echo notices his surge of inner conflict or not-- the nervous wring of his hands and the tremble in his spine that he cannot control under her gaze-- she does not react.

“I’d take a step and Sora would flinch away.” Echo confesses, her markings flickering with light before going dark and dead, as if her body wished to snuff them out entirely, a deep seated rejection, a self-loathing so strong that Dusknoir cannot help but recognize it and empathize, and his heart aches, “It took ages for her to stop shaking when I’d speak. To stop looking at me like-- like I was going to…” 

Echo grimaces like she’s enduring waves of grueling torture and doesn’t finish that string of thought, but it’s not hard to make an educated guess on what went unsaid. Like I was going to betray her. Hurt her. Break her heart. She’s been through so much already and I couldn’t bear to be another influence in the history of her suffering. I hate myself because of how I made her feel. When her eyes went wide in fear and through them I could see myself staring back like some sort of burden, some sort of curse.

“I am not my past.” Proud and true, Echo straightens up and holds her head high, a spark igniting in her eyes, a glint of determination, a will to keep going and going despite such circumstances and strife, despite this horrid, unspeakable past that haunts her so, “And I am definitely not you. It’s taken a while, but I know that much now. I’ve accepted it.”

I am not my past. And I am definitely not you.

A sigh, a breath, and Echo glances at him with a certain sorrow that cannot be described, a sorrow that lingers even through the veil of her tenacity, "But no matter how I feel, no matter my conviction, my shadows still find ways through the cracks. Every time I think I'm getting a grip and that I might finally understand myself… I change all over again." She admits, sounding more angry and tired than defeated now-- like a mirror of her old self, her human self that had clawed and damned and cursed him, despised him more than anything. "I hate it. I hate that I never truly know who I am. That I have to learn about my past through stories others tell me, or through fragments of twisted, broken memories that I wouldn't wish on anyone. Through conflict and pain and… and..."

"Echo," Dusknoir murmurs her name softly, an offering, a potential escape if only she would wish to drop the subject and forget this conversation had ever happened-- if she'd overstepped and needed an excuse to back out, a diversion, an understanding. And briefly, Dusknoir wonders why she is opening up about this particular information, why she would delve into something so vulnerable, so personal. Why she would bring up this hurtful history when it obviously brings her great discomfort.

And then, he gets an answer.

“You’re lucky, Dusknoir." There it is, that wildfire burning in her eyes again. A spark that’s new and bold and startling. But lucky? No, never. He'd have to disagree, accounting the mountain of evidence that was his life and regrettable deeds.

"You already know exactly who you are and what you’ve done, and most importantly why. You have more than a tattered picture of yourself that reflects broken answers. And you can change with that knowledge. I see you trying.” She tells him, searching, looking for something so deeply and Dusknoir wishes he knew what it could be so that he could give it to her, because he would, he would gladly give it to her without a second thought if it meant they could be close again. But he isn’t a fool, and he’s wise enough to know they’ll never be like they were before. “And if somehow I could change, even as half-assed as I have. Well, then what’s your excuse?”

You can do it, say her unspoken words, I believe in you.

[gio-cosmo]

Yk I wasn’t originally planning to talk abt my ao3 account on here but I don’t really gaf anymore. Embarrassment is a concept. Embrace joy and whimsy.

..anyways! If you want to read some of my works my ao3 account is bittersweet_serendipity ^_^ I love to write and am always aiming to improve. I state this a lot in authors notes, but if you ever spot any major weak points or mistakes in my writing, feel free to point them out to me! Constructive criticism helps a ton.

Do be aware that my older works (aka the first 2 I published) are literally filled to the brim w grammar mistakes like it’s actually baffling 😭 we should all collectively ignore those for the sake of my mental sanity actually! <3 I need to go back and edit them but I keep pushing it off ughh…someday.

[cheswirls]

early op/dc au fic plot points

in honor of finding my notes finally after five months have passed since writing them and after i just wrote out a huge block of what happens during part one of the fic relying entirely on memory and wit alone, here are some freebie things-that-will-definitely-happen (and just random Things to throw in between) to think over while i'm trying to get back into writing this fic

also tagging @kiteou who created jason/sabo and 100% inspired this verse (please look at their ship art it's all so impeccably goooood)

sabo wears make-up to cover his scar when he goes crime fighting and chooses to hunt criminals in a distant district of gotham to avoid being recognized since he doesn't wear a mask

though he doesn't weak a mask, he does adorn a large tophat with a wide brim and uses the shade to conceal his face from view; when he runs into jason and snarls about a hero not posibly wearing a fucking full-face helmet mask, jason argues back about protecting his identity and accuses sabo of being a hypocrite since his hat also hides his face

jason quotes old literature sabo has never heard of when he's trying to make the most of a situation (so rarely) and sabo scribbles illegible-chicken-scratch words in tattered notebooks when he needs to vent about Life in general (it's maybe his goal at some point to create an autobiography of life in gotham and how much It Sucks, Bad™)

sabo using a metal pipe as his choice weapon reminds jason of damian (he's in his bo staff days) in kind of a fond but wary way - this does not last; at some point the pipe scraping against concrete or brick sets jason off, triggering something in his subconsciousness bad enough to make him lose focus in a fight, and it gets to the point where he tells sabo they can't fight together anymore if he's gonna continue to use the pipe as a weapon

ace and sabo are 19 in the beginning because it takes place in fall, and jason is newly 20 - because of this, sabo is 5'9 and ace 6'0 but sabo wears platform and heeled (the heel is inside so it's not visible) boots when he plays vigilante so he's taller than jason by a couple inches; at some point when ace meets jason he implicates sabo's true height and sabo shouts at him (shut the fuck up, ace!) before ace can finish; even later on, sabo ends up at jason's apartment and when his shoes come off, he stands shorter than jason, much to jason's surprise; sabo admits gruffly that being over six foot makes a person more intimidating, which is his goal at night when facing off with criminals, but also insists that he's still growing (which he is, and eventually he doesn't need the boots to stand at 6'2 properly); even though ace is (barely) taller than sabo (just like he's barely older than sabo), he's still shorter than jason, which rubs him the wrong way (and sets off the comment about sabo's alleged height)

while ace is just trying to survive in gotham, owing nothing to the city that's chewed them both up in childhood and spit them back out again in adolescence, sabo chooses vigilantism in a bid to 'just do what's right, or at least try to'

^ going with this, ace and sabo both have awakened meta-genes that grant them fire powers; ace got his first and is proficient in using his powers - in contrast, sabo develops his after his accident that leaves a portion of his upper body scarred, and refuses to train or even try and control/subdue his powers at all due to his intense fear of fire; this causes daily strife because ace should be able to coach sabo through developing (or at the very least, getting under control) his powers so they don't cause accidents all the time, being the more experienced and honed of the two, but because he's never willing to overstep and always afraid of reigniting sabo's trauma, he never pushes sabo toward what should be the reasonable solution

aaaaaaaa smth smth jason being more experienced in relationships but none of them ever going well, versus sabo who's never been in love and doesn't know how to act, doesn't know how to be vulnerable in front of another person (who's not ace, but even then) or what's considered normal for their relationship status, and eventually having to tell all of this to jason to dispel some worries threatening to make him sick; jason tries his best to insist that sabo doesn't need to act a specific or certain way and that they were going to figure this out together and find what worked for them; in the beginning their "romantic" relationship is super dysfunctional and not much different from their status before when they were just friends, but it slowly becomes more functional when they start to clue in to what they and each other want out of this

i CANNOT find my notes which makes me sick (< actually i did!!! not long after i wrote this which makes me SO mad in hindsight) but in this verse jason runs around with roy harper and artemis crock, who are roughly the same age as him and sabo but have the dynamic they do in earth-16 when they're (sibling) in-laws, meaning, they get along like a tight pair and often will team up to lovingly tease jason whenever the opportunity present itself; when they're introduced to sabo, the initial reaction is them recounting ('oh so this is the boy you're always mentioning') various things jason has said about him and then low-key embarrassing the both of them with their teasing, so it takes a bit for sabo to warm up to them

after sabo is burned by a lighter and his make-up runs, jason believes his old face scars to be part of the fresh injury and rushes sabo to leslie's clinic to get seen; sabo is bandaged up and none of the staff ask questions about the vigilantism that would (tie him w illegal activity) but in the beginning when someone asks sabo a basic question in regards to the injury, sabo clams up; jason has to snap at him that (leslie) was a doctor and not the fucking cops, so would sabo please put an ounce of trust in someone for once and let them take care of him; sabo relents and lets himself be treated

when he arrives home with his eye covered, ace is shocked because sabo never lets anyone but ace bandage him up; ace asks what (the fuck) happened and sabo clams up, flinches back when ace tries to reach for the wrap, and snaps at him to leave it because an actual medical professional treated him for once; ace says smth like 'but you always let me patch you up' and sabo appeases him by saying he can redress the wound later when it needed changing, but right now, he wants it left alone; later ace gets to see the damage and immediately realizes sabo got burned which terrifies him, putting sabo's shying away from him earlier into a new light, and ace takes on a new perspective when he helps sabo tend to the injury in order to frighten sabo as little as possible

sabo lives with ace and rouge until zero year, when their apartment floods and rouge gets sick and eventually dies in the hospital without proper medical care; without rouge, neither of them go back to the house in coventry and instead spend most of the remainder of zero year in a church - despite spending a good portion of their upbringing from that point on around clergymen, sabo refuses to believe in a god that would let him and ace to suffer through life to the extent that they had, and when ace curses 'god damn' or 'oh god' sabo isn't even willing to humor it, always blunting insisting 'there is no god' that ace in turn always counters with 'it's an expression, sabo, it doesn't have to mean anything'

aaaaaaaand since i've been sitting on this intro for a good six months now here's a small actual written pv :)

(if tumblr blurs the ss just click on it and it'll clear up)

[un-pearable]

i am fine admitting i have a shameful love of shitty crossover fic in which characters get to show up in media i like slightly less and then one-up all the characters there by being competent badasses in ways you don’t usually get to see bc in their normal universe you’re usually watching from said characters pov. but i absolutely loathe reincarnation fic with the same premise. no i do not want to read about midoriya izuku with sonic the hedgehog’s memories just give me sonic the hedgehog

[revelisms]

Excerpt: Emptied Spaces

Vi recalls her first nights as a new recruit to Zaun.

From a work in progress set after 'heron blue,' an AU where Vi and Jinx reconnect under different terms. Slow, rocky relationship rebuilding, found family messiness, and hurt/comfort abound.

A series of tinny pricks muddle the air. 

"He's not all bad, you know," her sister mumbles. 

Vi presses her nails into her palm. 

In her mind's eye, a litany of refusals. 

She sees the stairs down to the storeroom—their old room—that she'd found boarded up, paint streaked over the walls: a glaring, caution-taped denial to any who dared to enter. She sees Jinx slumped at the bar, dotting black varnish on her nails, flippant as anything to Vi's tight-mouthed questions of what had happened to their things; if there was anything left.

Just ghouls and ghosts, Jinx had said, in an accent not her own, and shot a whip-fire glare through her fringe. Then she'd grinned, cold and feline. Droused on, Key's in Silky's desk, if you care that much.

Like that room was nothing more than an ill memory, to her. Her and Vi's things. Mylo and Claggor's things. Mom and Dad's things. Vander's—

Like all of it wasn't theirs, anymore.

(Never had been.)

They had new rooms, now—ones of their own, only paces down that dark-lamped hall from each other.

Just days prior, that rat had dangled hers in front of her, in some twisted attempt at an olive branch.

It had ridiculous wallpaper and jade-tinted windows; furnishings absurdly ornate, for all their simplicity; shelves upon shelves filled with books she'd never read. They'd given her a bed with smuggled silk sheets and feathered pillows—the kind any Fissure brat in their right mind would dive into, relishing in the best sleep they'd had in years. A luxury all of them deserved. 

Her own room. A real, proper room.

Not four walls and a cot.

(Not a room with Powder.)

In silence, that bastard had stood behind her: smoke and spice on his clothes, a chill like an autumn sea seeping off his bones. The shadow of his suit had lingered in her periphery, unnervingly still. Spindly hands folded at his back; too-clean shoes canted, unmoving. 

Will it suffice? he'd graveled, eventually.

Vi'd fought down the urge to scoff.

Suffice.

As if he couldn't give a damn that he'd paid for it all on the backs of children carting industry wares as much as vials of liquid death; hadn't taken up his keep in their home, Vander's home—claimed the damned thing unrightfully as his own—and now had carved out a pathetic share to toss back to her.

Vi'd found her voice. Our old room was fine.

Hands ticking at his back. If you'd prefer to sleep on the boxes, then be my guest.

She said you emptied it.

Silence ebbing, knifing. A heaviness had snared around his bones: the kind that had rage smelting around it, slow-simmered and tightly leashed: one that set the hairs on her nape rising.

In it was an image. A memory he wouldn't give her the privilege to share.

She didn't want to picture it.

Powder, eleven years old, bruises on her cheek, standing alone in the center of that storeroom. 

Powder, frozen, for minutes or hours or ages—a tattered bunny squeezed between her hands, blood still on her clothes—before the screams finally tore their way out of her.

She didn't want to picture it—but the thought had itched within her, like a virus. She couldn't blink it out.

It's been emptied enough, Silco had answered her: a slither of a hiss. His mismatched stare had veered away, notched to an unseen point in the wall.

Under your orders? Vi'd pressed on.

Another tick of his fingers.

He'd known they'd already spoken about it. That she was aware, by then, that it was Powder—Jinx—who wanted nothing to do with that room: who couldn't sleep in it, couldn't stand to be in it; could only hover at the foot of those stairs, boots welded through the floor, every time this shark-skinned thing offered for her to go through her belongings and do with the space as she wished. 

A denial Vi couldn't grapple with had pooled nauseously in her. One he'd had no qualms in laying out to dry.

I will remind you, Silco had said, placid for all its venom, once, by whose request you are here. And he'd stared her down, like a beast waiting to strike: head tilted, eyes inhuman: chloroform polluting the sea-foam of the living one, magma igniting the ore of the dead. 

Nothing but a dull indifference. Bemusement glazed beneath a fanged snarl. 

He didn't see her as a threat, she'd realized. Not as mirrored strength to be wary of, the way Vander had. 

In the path of his leering, she felt like a child. A gutless, gut-twisted kid.

Like a pair of boxing gloves squeezed shamefully behind her back, and her father's glare simmering above her, a finger lifted slowly between them—Don't you leave her alone, again. 

In his image, the words twisted. A different voice. A dead eye. A threat that bastard didn't need to speak.

She'd heard it, all the same.

Give her one reason to regret that choice, and I will see you out, myself.

"Y'know what's funny?" Jinx says, plucking another piece of metal off her knee. Vi's fingers stutter around her hair. "You've got way more in common than you think. Little spit-fire peas in a pod, really—all Zaun this, Fissurefolk that—No pickles in the stew, Jinx; No bombs in the basement, Birdie-blue." Her sister pitters into a snort, piranha-teeth gleam over the shoulder. "It's bonkers. Like I've got two of ya, now."

And Vi pictures him occupying a similar space in this bar, this room, in her sister's own head. Pictures, dreads, refuses the thought of him toiling over a stove, with little Powder's fingertips peeking against the counter: of him standing bland and impatient in the glittering eaves of a Piltie tailor, wrinkling his brow at the colors this girl insisted on piecing together; of him waking to her tear-muddled face at ungodly hours of the morning, as Vi had done so many years before, and groggily flipping back the sheets; of holding her, at all, in a space that never should have been emptied, in the first place.

The thought curdles in her throat.

Six years—nearly seven, now.

Now, her sister speaks about Powder like a dead self. She spends her free hours dancing around that monster's desk. She has nightmares more vile that the ones Vi remembers, that made voices crawl from the walls, the kind that said the nights would never end and that none of them would ever come back, never come back again (and Mom and Dad never did, and Vander was taken from them)—

And still. 

Still, after all of it—after those terrors would send her panicked and shaken into the hall, with Vi's door already cracked and waiting; after the years Vi had cared for her, reassured her, done her best to be the lovely softness that their mother was, that she feared she could never be—Jinx would go to him, first.

Vi squeezes her eyes shut. 

Slowly, the comb picks through another tangle.

"Two of us, huh?" she mutters, a fire in her chest—and denies it.

[throughtrialbyfire]

slowly putting together outline of the solitude arc!! very very excited for it bc its letting me flex my horror muscles a bit >:3

[the-lady-amphitrite]

Okay, tell me about As Long As You Love Me. Does it have anything to do with the Backstreet Boys song? Is Loki a Backstreet Boy? I need to know.

send me an ask with a WIP title and i'll talk about it!

okay so, fun fact, i don't know music pretty much At All so i had no idea that Backstreet Boys had a song with this title?? upon listening to it though i do actually know the song. i have not heard it in years though, but i'm screeching from how well it fits the story so it's been added to the playlist for this fic 😂

AS LONG AS YOU LOVE ME is actually not (directly) about Loki! it's another fic in Of Fire and Of Ice, but this one serves as a prequel to the whole series. here's the short working summary for the fic because i haven't cared to write down an actual summary for it yet.

Take a journey to discover the truth behind the story of Laufey Borsdóttir’s abduction by Jǫtunheimr, and of a life cut short because of love.

i changed a bunch of stuff in Marvel's norse lore back to fit more closely with its mythology counterparts for this AU. this included changing Loki's parentage back to its mythology version, so Laufey is his mother and Fárbauti is his father.

while i was concepting OFAOI, i just kinda got stuck often on the bit of history right before the story takes place. it always felt important to me when i was doing the first couple of drafts for the series. ruminating and working out the details of it while working on the end of the series (because there's some pre-story history stuff that comes up in the final fic that's important but not really relevant until that point) kinda snowballed into writing this fic.

it's a story about a girl who falls in love. Laufey sees Fárbauti the first time they meet when Fárbauti and his father come to Asgard during Bor's reign, and she just... kind of knows without realising that he'll be important to her.

Laufey looks down into the eyes of the Frost Giant prince, and holds his steady red gaze. Her father and brothers have always called them red as blood, but she finds she doesn’t agree. They are red — a vibrant bright red, yes— but they remind her of the red you see at sunrise. The red that brings with it the promise of a new day. And with every new day there comes new chances. New opportunities. Hope. Laufey realises she likes the prince’s sunrise-red eyes much more than the blood-red she had been expecting.

it's also a story about Laufey choosing her own path, even when the people who love her tell her it's the wrong one. it's a story about betrayal from people she thought would never harm her just because they want to protect a legacy. it's a story about Laufey fighting for what she wants, not what everyone thinks she should.

ultimately though, it's a tragedy. from the get-go of writing this fic, i knew without a shadow of a doubt that Laufey would die in the end. i didn't really have a solid idea of how, or why, or when, but i knew that she would.

I NEARLY FORGOT ALSO BUT i was looking at the planning and reading the tags i wrote for it and. i literally wrote "Soulmates, but without any lore connection to the rest of the lore for this series" and if that's not the funniest but also most genuine way i was writing this fic. they're soulmates, but theyre not the magically bound soulmates of the AU. i'm laughing and i'm crying.

[tea-of-destiny]

hrrgh everything ouchie and sleepy but i wanna draw too

[elisedonut]

sudden itch to write a rare pair fic thats not Percy related

but like

the last time I did that it ended up becoming my top fic and lead to me deciding that you know... actually I hate that ship just out of spite so i'm not sure how good of an idea it is

maybe if i try like femslash or something super super rare with side characters or something