#pieckannie

[meikuree]

fanfic author self-recs

thank you @chocochipbiscuit for tagging me - this was a delightful challenge! tagging @rose-gardens @mikbates @pretty-rage-machine @mariaaxescallop @leksaa90 @ostreatus @minoan-ophidian​ and anyone else who’d like to do this.

diving in, my five:

1) the sun coming out (Jiyeong/Kang Saebyeok) - Squid Game: wrote this for a lovely recip in an exchange, who liked/wanted post-canon fic. in practice I like exploring aftermaths & fix-its where people’s road(s) to happiness still have to be worked for and not every kink’s been smoothed out, and this fic is a prime example of that for me.

alternative tldr: “LOOK at the parallels between jiyeong and saebyeok. LOOK at them” fic complete with cooking and partial recovery. I’m deeply lucky my recip enabled my, uh, runaway domestic jiyeong/saebyeok aspirations and the latitude to write all that. <3

2) the slow mending (Pieck/Hange) - Shingeki no Kyojin: wrote this for a prescient friend -- my concept line was something like... political & historical differences patched through the good old reliable tactic of learning to read, understand, and trust your enemies. I’m still fond of this bit:

So Hange, conscious of historical precedence—what they have both usually done to each other in encounters like this, her titan’s gravestone teeth in Shiganshina and their aggression in Liberio—tries something new instead. They clasp her clean hand in theirs, and draw it close against their face. At the sensation of the contact-burn, her elevated shifter heat kissing their fingers, Hange very gently presses their lips to her hand.

3) to walk along the edge (Pieck/Annie) - Shingeki no Kyojin: this was a sophomore fic; some parts induce the facepalm emoji now, but I’m also surprised by how well certain parts hold up, and I think of this in some ways as a magnum opus.

despite the heavy subject matter and unhappy ending, I’ve been told this fic is comforting, and that humbles me. I sometimes find sad and bittersweet stories more comforting than staunchly happy ones myself; whether consciously or not, I think my writing here came from that same place.

4) blood to gold (Pieck/Hange) - Shingeki no Kyojin: looking back now this fic set up all my Classic Hits like, grief/mourning, hope amidst bleakness, thoughtful narrative voices, and so on. I wrote this shortly after reading the widely circulated essay Against the Logic of the Guillotine. I still like these lines:

Vengeance feels like a guillotine—an entity that wants justice to be served with a swift, purifying cut. Let history renew itself on a clean slate free of enemies.

5) the centre cannot hold (genfic; Hitch & Annie) - SNK: situational horror! missing scenes! stoic characters having said stoicism eroded! the slippage of time and memory; writing this was a blast.

[brbarou]

pieckannie real

[oncejaw]

@vvasilisa​​ said:  ‘  i  lost  someone .  the  only …  the  only  person  i’ve  ever  truly  loved  more  than  myself .  ’ * pieck uwu  (umbrella academy starters) (acc.)

-------------- There is a veil in Pieck’s voice ash she speaks, that makes her intentions impossible to decipher. Her admission falls into his ear and sinks like a stone to the bottom of the dark waters he would call a soul; slowly, they erode and take a new life of their own. From admission of grief, they become a profession of love. Then they morph into a call for help. Finally, polished off of all their coating, they reveal their edges, turn into accusation. Whether Pieck means to or not is irrelevant. He sits still under the scorching light of her judgement, be it real or imaginary - the effect on his damaged mind is the same. 

She was with you. You were supposed to bring them all home - why isn’t she here? Marcel asks himself those same questions, every day, every waking minute, since the day they had left Paradis. Sometimes he hears them in his own voice, sometimes Magath’s; very often Pieck’s, though he cannot recall her asking them out loud. Not to him, at least. There is an open, gaping wound in his best friend’s chest, and she lashes out, sometimes; more often than not, directs her ire at Reiner. Marcel has gotten off easy, thus far. It feel unfair, really. It’s my fault, Pieck. I’m the one who failed to bring her back to you. 

“I’m sorry, Pieck.” His voice used to be akin to a proud roar, once. These days, it seems to be barely more than a whisper. It is late at night, and they sit by the pier, with nothing but the sound of waves quietly crashing against the docks and bleak moonlight for company. They sit next to each other, shoulders almost brushing; and yet, there is the absence that sits between like, like hungry maw swallowing everything up to their silence. “We... I failed her. I failed you.” Dare he tell her, how every time he closes his eyes, he sees them? Bertholdt, carved out of his invincible titan; Annie entombed in crystal coffin. How he wishes he could say he would do anything, sacrifice anything to bring them back. How he wishes he could spit such a promise without flinching, honest and earnest. They both know it wouldn’t be true. They both know there will always be one pull more powerful than anything else. Arguably, that pull had already been. Arguably, Annie and Bertholdt are paying the price for it. “If there is anything you want to know... I’ll tell you everything about Paradis. Fuck the brass and their classified bullshit.” 

[brbarou]

rarepairs am i right