i know some parts are quite off but let's not get into the details... the important thing is the fic

It’s Wednesday, which means it’s Crying About STAR WARS Time and I love that apparently it’s a never-ending font of things to cry about in the GFFA. But, hey, at least sometimes it’s crying in a good way? So, here, come cry some more with me about these space monks with their laser swords.

House of Cards by Smitty, obi-wan & anakin & oc, 23.8k
   Just when Obi-Wan thinks he has life figured out, a shadowy bounty hunter proves him wrong.
The Exchange by MissLearn, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & qui-gon & mace & rex & cast, 31.2k wip
   The Daughter has a bad day and it irrevocably changes the fate of the galaxy, twice over. Or; ROTS Obi-Wan and Anakin are swapped with their younger, TPM, selves. It changes things, in both parallels.
Obikin Ficlet: Exotic Dancer AU by writegowrite, obi-wan/anakin, imperial!obi-wan, 1k
   Prompt: “Exotic dancer!Anakin giving a private dance to sith lord!imperial general!Obi-Wan and they haven’t seen each other in 6 months. They missed each other and Obi-Wan just wants to touch Anakin but Anakin won’t let him.”
Clarity by anecdotalist, obi-wan/anakin & anakin/padme & ahsoka & cast,
   Anakin’s jealousy leads to the start of something new between him and Obi-Wan and a lot of frank discussions about things they should have talked about but didn’t in canon.
Do Not Go Gentle by Glare, obi-wan/anakin, a/b/o, 4.8k wip
   Anakin Skywalker is only six months into his Jedi training when he goes missing on a mission, bringing his Master’s life crashing down.
untitled by gaealynn, obi-wan/anakin, mild bondage, 1.9k
   I propose – an Obi-Wan who indulges one of Anakin’s tantrums and is startled to find that he, ah, doesn’t quite mind letting Anakin tie him up and dote on him; and an Anakin who is over the moon at being allowed to do so.
Tano and Kenobi by FireflyFish, obi-wan & ahsoka & cast, 54.3k wip
   Master Skywalker always said “The Force works in mysterious ways” and Ahsoka Tano has to admit, getting thrown backwards in time by about forty years was very mysterious. Now she just needs to figure how to get back home and how to get Master Qui-Gon Jinn to take Senior Initiate Obi-Wan Kenobi as a Padawan before the young boy is shipped off to Bandomeer to take up the quiet life of a farmer. Of course, that’s assuming she doesn’t take him as her Padawan first…
Choices by writegowrite, obi-wan & krell, sith!obi-wan, ~1k
   The path to the dark was easier than Obi-Wan had ever thought it could be.
Reunion by writegowrite, obi-wan/anakin, ~1k
   It has been nine minutes since Darth Vader arrived on the Rebel reconnaissance ship.
Lights Will Guide You Home by darlingargents, obi-wan/padme & potential obi-wan/anakin/padme & luke/ezra & leia & ahsoka & cast, 27.3k wip
   Obi-Wan knew that if he didn’t leave now, Padmé would die. And so he made his decision.
untitled by silvergryphon, leia & mace, 1.7k
   Everyone expected Leia to follow in her mother’s footsteps.
untitled by stonefreeak, padme & background anakin/padme, 1.2k
   Padmé stares at the clock on her bedside table. She knows it’s time to get up and get ready to face the day, but she… She doesn’t want to.
untitled by lurkingcrow, obi-wan & luke, 1.2k
   Obi-Wan braces against the bulkhead as yet another refugee pushes past him, attention focused upon the growing food line rather than the bedraggled figure hunched over his precious cargo.
untitled by fireflyfish, obi-wan/anakin & cast, pirate!obi-wan, 1.9k
   All things considered, Darth Vader was taking the news of growing pirate fleet surprisingly well, thought Lieutenant Piett as he followed after the towering, black-suited menace.

full details + recs under the cut!

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anonymous asked:

top 10 favorite fics?

This has been sitting in my inbox for a hot minute, honestly, because this is a super difficult question. I’m sorry it’s taken so long to answer! I want to preface by saying that I’ve read a ridiculous amount of fic in this fandom, and I’ve loved so much of it, and there are plenty of fics that I would die for that aren’t on this list. also i’m constantly reading and finding new universes to love, so this list could change any day? but here goes, my top 10 favorite (at this very moment in time) hl fics:

10. Relief Next To Me by dolce_piccante (334k)

What can I say? Is this fic overhyped? Maybe. Is it ridiculously long? Sure. Is it nothing but pure fluff? Yeah, you’re right. Would I die for it? Absolutely. I find myself revisiting this universe over and over again, and that’s saying something for a fic this massive. I just love how fun the relationship is, so whenever I’m feeling blue and need to get away from anything angst, this is one of my go-to’s.

9. let it shine under the morning star, orphaned (22k)

This is one of the first fics I ever read twice (I’m not normally a fan of re-reading fics) and I still go back to it from time to time just to experience the amazing aesthetic this fic has. It’s set during the Belle Époque, one of my favorite historical eras in terms of the arts, and the imagery is just beautiful. Read this while listening to some Chopin or John Field; it’s totally lovely.

8. the impossible now by stylinsoncity (54k)

Oh, god. This fic is incredible. There are a lot of really great original plots out there, and there are a lot of good time-travel/universe swapping fics, but this one takes the cake. The angst and the conflict resolve are super well done, and this is one of those fics you just can’t stop reading even for a second. I remember staying up one night reading it all in one go, yelling at Kelli the entire time. I think I’m due to revisit this one myself!

7. You Come Beating Like Moth’s Wings by supernope (81k)

The Barcelona Fic™!!!! I read this pretty early on when I became a 1d fan and it’s stuck with me as one of the most fun and adventurous fics I’ve ever read. The entire idea of a whirlwind romance while traveling abroad is an automatic set-up for fun times (as well as a little angst) but the best part of this fic is the slow burn. If you haven’t read this one, you absolutely must.

6. Black with Autumn Rain by whimsicule (93k)

If you’re looking for originality, look no further tbh. Listen, I’m a huge horror/sci-fi/fantasy fanatic, and I’m obsessed with anything different, so obviously there’s some bias going on here, and I recognize that this fic may not be for everyone. However, it feels like this fic was written for me. This is one of those fics where the romance takes a bit of a back seat to the actual story, which is something I love, and the actual story is what keeps you hooked. On top of that, fucking phenomenal writing. Read this one when it’s raining, preferably with the lights off.

5. 210 Days by cherrystreet (16k)

Listen. Are you listening? Okay, good. This fic changed me. This was the first of Shelly’s fics that I ever read, and I couldn’t stop screaming about it for weeks. Shelly is, quite honestly, the queen of hurt and comfort. Did I cry while reading this? Of course. But I finished this fic feeling so content, hopeful even, for Harry and Louis, and for how strong their love is in this universe. I got hooked on the writing right away, but even more than that, I got introduced to Shelly’s incredible ability to write about the pain of the real world while highlighting all of the good things that happen as well. This fic is a huge gift; it brought me comfort during a really shitty time in my life, it made some of my friendships stronger, and it introduced me to one of my favorite people in this fandom. Anyway, the writing in this is totally poetic, so if you want to know what it feels like to be adored, read Harry’s letters to Louis in this fic and get back to me.

4. Have You Coming Back Again by whoknows (31k)

It’s crazy to me that this fic is number 4 on this list instead of number 1, because the first time I read this fic I ranted and raved about it for a ridiculously long time. The first time I tried to read this, I couldn’t get into it. Fortunately, I tried again after a few weeks and when I did get into it, I got into it. I adore the characterization in this fic. The writing is, of course, totally on point. “You’re just obsessed with fluff,” you might say. Well you’d be right, but that doesn’t change the fact that whoknows has a gift for writing a fun, playful romance.

3. Here in the Afterglow by fondleeds (89k)

Ah, here’s where I really get emotional. When lysha posted this, I had already read her first work, which I adored, so I was really excited for a well-done historical au (I’m a hoe for historical au if that isn’t obvious, btw). But nothing could have prepared me for this fic. Not only are all of the historical details totally spot on (the MUSIC IN THIS IS.. INCREDIBLE!!!), but the story itself handles the coming out “trope” with such incredible finesse and care, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. There is so much LGBT+ history in this fic, and it’s treated with the respect it deserves, which is something I really haven’t ever seen in any other fic before. When I finished it, I just had this immense feeling of thankfulness for the pioneers of LGBT+ rights, which is not something you’d necessarily expect to get from a fic?? Anyways I’m rambling but I really can’t emphasize enough how wonderful and important to me this fic is. You absolutely must listen to 70′s rock while reading this, btw.

2. It Comes and Goes in Waves/It Always Does by roaroftheninth (51k)

Am I a fake for making this my #2 even though I only first read it a few days ago? Maybe. This fic, just recently completed, is another absolutely original fic that stands out from anything I’ve ever read. The thing about this fic is, the romance (like BWAR) is secondary. This is more a story about a soldier, who has to deal with the loss and pain he was left with after WWII, and his struggle to accept his own self-worth and happiness. Everything about the story itself is just flawless: the writing, the characterization, the plot, the imagery, the dialogue, the vocabulary itself - all of it is fantastic. I know the MCD tag scares people (it definitely scares me too!) but I promise it’s survivable, and the ending is happy! Given, if you like cookie-cutter fic with a predictable plot with all smiles and no tears, this fic isn’t for you. Then again, real life probably isn’t for you. If you want to read something real, something powerful and thought-provoking, read this. (Also, bonus points to this fic for SLOWWWW burn, an amazing tension-release, and a beautiful ending).

1. Tug-of-War by cherrystreet (63k)

You knew I couldn’t make a fic rec without having cherrystreet on here twice, right? The reality is, all of Shelly’s fics should be in my top 10, because I love them all, but there is no universe that compares to TOW. As always, her writing and characterization are on point. It’s obvious how much Shelly cares for this universe in the details of this fic, and it’s obvious how much she loves Louis and Harry in the way she carefully handles their fragile hearts in this particularly angst-driven story. Like the previous recommendation, this fic perfectly captures the pain of the real world, while still emphasizing that things can get better, that if you don’t give up, or even if you have already given up, you can change things for yourself just by believing that you deserve it. This fic is, naturally, littered with hardships and addresses real human sorrow, but it’s also full of love and hope, and lots of laughter. I’ve read it multiple times, and every time I’m left smiling and a little more in love with hl than I was before, so if you’re waiting to read this one or you haven’t done it yet because you’re afraid of the angst, I promise it won’t hurt you.

Sorry this was so long and so extra, but Top 10 is truly an outrageously difficult question! And like… it could change by tomorrow, for all I know! Anyways I hope you enjoy these if you haven’t read them yet, and even if you have read them maybe try giving some of them another go! All of these universes are too wonderful not to enjoy multiple times.

Captured By The Game p.3

AN: Another part of my Nessian Escort AU. Thank you for all the lovely messages about this fic! It definitely prompted me to write this faster ;)

In this one, Cassian and Nesta spend some time by the seaside. Less porny and more on the feels side this time. Hope you like it!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 Edit/Sneak Peek

Cassian can’t quite believe she’s here with him.

He’s not exactly sure what he expected when he invited Nesta to spend a week away with him but as always, she managed to surprise him.

She said yes.

The elevation he feels, this euphoric flutter in his stomach gets crushed as soon as he realizes it must’ve been an offer too lucrative to refuse.

But then again, why does he care?

He’s never been one for attachments, Rhys and Az the only family he’s ever needed - and those two are a handful already.

But then Nesta Archeron waltzed into his office, all heels and trench coat, and only bare skin underneath. In the most glorious cosmic mix-up to ever grace his life, she barged in and shrugged off her Burberry frock, rendering Cassian mute and his jaw dropped during an important business call. A strangled shriek escaped her mouth as she realized her mistake and she fled from his office as promptly as she appeared, a subtle scent of her exotic perfume lingering in the air.

Naturally, he went after her. And Nesta faced with him her head held high, her composure steel and unwavering as if he hadn’t just seen her naked. Unimpressed with his easy jokes and his confident (although she’d probably call it cocky) demeanor, she proved to be a worthy opponent right from the start.

No feelings, no strings attached, no sharing of their personal lives. The rules were simple enough - the deal was struck.

Only a few months have passed since that moment.

And instead of meeting Nesta in some fancy hotel room as per their rules, he’s taking her to his summerhouse in Maine.

Well, shit.

Perhaps he’s lost his goddamn mind.

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Open the Memory Cage

Well shit looks like I done wrote my first fic. Here it is in all its glory. I wanted to explore 2B and 9S’s relationship after the end and how they might help each other heal from all the trauma they went through both during the game and from before it started.

Tags(ish): Ending [E] spoilers. 10 pages/7309 words. 2B9S. Quite a bit of angst and feels. There’s a suggestive bit in there but nothing overly smutty (sorry to some of you). References the recent stage play/concert [Link to translation]

Summary: After ending [E] 9S wakes up to see 2B has brought him back to the Resistance camp. He’s unable to believe it’s really her until she begins sharing her memories with him to help bring back his own as well as helping him heal from everything he went through.

Partially inspired by some of @nines-s fics. So I guess it’s sort of a fic of a fic?

Story under the readmore. [Link] for mobile users in case you can’t click it.

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Bare Your Teeth and Dig Your Grave

What is this? I have no idea. Character study? Inferences? Headcanons? Who knows my friends.

Any way time to thank @liketolaugh-dgm and her friends @nea-writes @lpwrites @allxnwalkxr for giving me points on characterization in an ask because they’re way better than meeeee

Summary: The General has a lot of information that no one knows. The most important piece, he thinks, is the fact that Allen Walker has always been a pretty creepy child.

Part 1/??? will maybe be a stand alone if people think it sucks??

Characters: Cross, Allen Walker, Lvellie, mentions of Link

Warnings: Cussing, slight mental breakdowns, very very vague illusions (?) to blood and very nasty eating habits

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Love On A Wire

Jumping on that sweet, sweet bandwagon. This was supposed to be a brief Pearl/Mystery Girl episode tag ficlet for Last One Out of Beach City, but it really got away from me. So now it also features Amethyst, Garnet, Greg, and a bit of Steven.

Or: a fic about Pearl generally being in a pretty good place, both when it comes to herself and others. Also about fixing things and figuring out phone calls and flirting with cute girls. ~4000 words. With thanks to @projectormom and @joan–of–bark for endless cheerleading.

Love On A Wire

The note was a strange, important weight in her hand. Pearl crinkled her nose at the crinkled paper and smudged ink, straightened it out, and folded it neatly, writing carefully kept on the inside. She could have stored it safely away in her gem, of course, but a niggling not-thought kept her from doing so. It felt better, somehow, to keep worrying at it between finger and thumb during their night-time walk to the nearest warp pad, leaving it rather more real and tangible than if it were tucked away in an elusive pocket dimension, floating somewhere along with the discarded pants and jacket.

The number was illegible without some illumination from her gem, but by now Pearl had memorised it anyway - she’d always had a good head for numbers of all kinds. If she tried, she could almost hear the digits recited in that surprisingly soft, low voice, still managing to carry over the sounds of the concert:

five, five, five-

Which, upon further thought, seemed like a silly thing to imagine and focus on - after all, she’d never actually heard her say the number. She’d never actually heard the girl say much of anything, and this was the best her mind could come up with?

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Everlasting Party - Mystic Messenger Time Loop AU (pt 27)

<- Previous Chapter | Chapter Index | Next Chapter ->

Summary: You’re caught in a time loop during the 11 days leading up to the RFA’s party unless you can do… what, exactly?

13+ Spoilers for Day 7 of Jumin’s route.

Ahhhh thank you everyone for your patience, this chapter was a struggle for whatever reason (work with me here Jumin, goddammit). I literally have around 1.3K that I just scrapped ‘cause it wasn’t working… ugh… but I’m much happier with how this version of Chapter 27 turned out. Enjoy!

Your fingers slip and the marker falls onto the page, leaving behind a purple splotch across the intricate lines of the mandala you’ve been colouring. Well, damn. You bring the paper closer to your face to inspect it, then pull back. You can maybe fix it with white-out, but… you put the sketchpad down with a sigh. Now there’s an ugly blot across your carefully planned design.

…You’re running out of things to do. Well, perhaps that’s a lie. It isn’t as though there’s an actual shortage of things to do, just that none of them seem appealing. Sitting in Rika’s apartment doing nothing is worse than doing something boring, though, so you’d gone to the internet again and discovered ‘mandalas’, geometric drawings with intricate patterns designed to take a long time to colour as a way of relieving stress.

You’re not really sure if you’re any less stressed out now than you were when you began, but at least colouring the small shapes means you’re not thinking about Unknown breaking into the apartment, or the bomb, or Unknown, or Mint Eye and their so-called ‘paradise’, or Unknown, or…

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anonymous asked:

Can you imagine a pynch soulmate mark fic where Ronan gets his tattoo because Screw the world, and of course this means adam also has the tattoo. Except he hates it, this huge black wall of ink because his dad saw it and wasn't happy and because pt1

Pt2 because Adam has a plan to Go Places, places that do not appreciate ink. So Adams angry at his soulmate because he thinks they’re selfish, always impeccably dressed to hide the ink, until he actually meets ronan and realizes maybe he was wrong?

yes i can imagine god bless u my dude this is a+ thank u 
okay so this is gonna be in bullet form but if it gets enough interest i might turn it into a fic!! (this got really long tho lmao)

  • So in the future, just before he turns 18, ronan gets a tattoo
  • But it’s more like he expands the tattoo he already has
  • In this world, once both you and your soulmate are born, you both acquire a tattoo, a mark to start off your journey
  • In adam and ronan’s case, it’s shaped like a cloud, just above the left shoulder blade.
  • New tattoos appear once something significant happens to either one of you. So in a sense, each person knows and is aware of the other’s actions, even if the tattoo is quite vague
  • Such as:
    • Their first words
    • Little footmarks to celebrate their first steps
    • A shabby trophy when adam won his first spelling bee
    • A sulking child sitting on a desk with his arms crossed, aka ronan’s first detention
    • A blob. Ronan was pretty confused about this one for a while, seeing as it was one of the few tattoos he had that contained color. As he grew older and from experience, he realized that it closely resembled a bruise.
    • A bmw–ronan’s present for his 16th birthday
    • Tattered overalls covered in grease–adam’s first job, which (unbeknownst to ronan) he started on his 16th birthday
  • Adam doesn’t really mind the tattoos, the marks, because it makes him feel like he kind of knows his soulmate, whoever the hell that person is. Plus, they’re not exactly huge, and though they appear at random places, it doesn’t make them that hard to hide.
  • His father disapproved of them greatly, and went to great lengths to hide his own tattoos. Adam found it ridiculous that in a world where almost everyone was marked, tattoos were still looked down upon
  • But he didn’t have the luxury to express his thoughts out loud, so he went along with it in order to be able to work and keep things as civil as he can with his parents.
  • It was actually okay for a while. Well, as far as ‘okay’ goes in the Parrish household.
  • Until, he wakes up one morning with his father looming over him

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One-shot written for Royai Week 2014, for prompt “Constant”. Weekly fics every Tuesday. Comments and reviews always welcome, I also read tags.

Read on FF.net // Read on AO3

Riza stepped out of the bathtub in her hotel room and wrapped her body with a towel. She had been very careful not to get her hair wet; she couldn’t afford to ruin the beautiful hairdo that Garfiel, a friend of Winry’s from Rush Valley, had so kindly offered to do earlier that morning. While keeping her side bangs, she wore a bun from which a few tresses fell delicately to her shoulders in the shape of soft curls.

Edward’s wedding would take place in only two hours, and she was glad they had asked her to be the maid of honor; Roy, on his part, would be the best man. As happy as she was for the young couple tying the knot, she was also enjoying the process of dressing up and couldn’t wait to see her reflection once she was ready. It wasn’t often she attended formal celebrations.

When she was done with her make-up, she dropped the towel and walked to the bed where her dress was waiting. It was a long-length, sleeveless, turquoise gown that covered entirely her back and neck; perfect for her needs.

She heard Black Hayate approaching her and she turned her head to look at him, but something else called her attention. Behind her on the wall there was a huge mirror, much bigger than the one she had in her apartment. As such, since she was still only in her panties and her back was facing the glass, she could see every detail of her damaged tattoo.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen it before, but more times than not, she had evaded seeing it if she had any intentions of ending her day with some peace of mind.

The transmutation circle etched in her skin was a constant reminder of things that had only brought her pain: her father losing his mind over alchemy which estranged their relationship; her body being used as an object; the burden of carrying a dangerous secret, and having to undress in front of someone if she deemed the person worthy of that knowledge; and every single person who was murdered because she had chosen to trust.

The burn scars that obscured the tattoo, on the other hand, were the constant reminder that she had been set free, laying down the bonds to her father and alchemy, becoming an individual with total control of her body instead of staying a human notebook. Burning the most important parts of the circle hadn’t erased the deaths it had been responsible for, but there would never be another Flame Alchemist, at least.

She decided to stop thinking about those things for the moment and concentrate on the wedding. She put her dress on, one leg at a time. Then she pulled up the zipper on her back—it got stuck. She froze with worry, but was quick enough to tell herself to take a deep breath and not panic about it. Reaching down from over her shoulder, she tried to extend her arm and grab the little object, but didn’t quite get to it. She tried to pull it back down, see if she could fix the problem taking the dress off and holding it in front of her. It didn’t move downwards either.

Frustrated, she pondered over her options. Ripping it off was one of them, and then she would have to desperately ask every woman in Resembool if by any chance they had a spare dress she could wear. Another option could be not attending the wedding at all, which was immediately crossed out of her mental list, since she was the maid of honor and it would be taken as a terrible insult. She sighed and looked at the phone. She knew what she had to do; she just wished she didn’t have to resort to that.

She opened the door to find Roy Mustang in the hallway. He had a grin on his face and started to talk as she let him in.

“Fullmetal had some sort of nervous breakdown; you should have seen-”

He silenced himself and stood immobile for a moment when he noticed her appearance. He scanned her from head to toe, taking in her beauty.

“You look wonderful!” he said breathlessly.

She smiled wryly. “Thanks.”

He frowned; he knew he had been called for something specific. “What is it?”

She pursed her lips. “I need your help.” She turned around and showed him her back. Half of her tattoo was covered by the dress; the other half was still visible. “It got stuck,” she explained. “I couldn’t even take it off.”

He flinched as he understood her problem. Nobody but the two of them knew about the Flame Alchemy transmutation circle on her skin. She couldn’t have just asked anyone for help; no one else should know about it.

He nodded and walked until he stopped behind her. He had learned the circle by heart; had seen her naked back a hundred times. For him, too, it was a constant reminder of what he had done. If she hadn’t showed it to him in the first place, he wouldn’t have used its power to kill innocents. If he hadn’t used its power to kill innocents, she wouldn’t have asked him to burn her. If; if…

He got a hold of the slider, and after a little struggle, he managed to fix it. He pulled it up, his fingers softly brushing her skin, and he felt her shiver.

He lay a hand on her shoulder. “There,” he said, and removed his hand as she turned to look at him.

She smiled sincerely. “Thank you. I hope I haven’t caused any setbacks.”

He shook his head. “Only for yourself. But there’s still some time, don’t worry.”

“No, I’m done now.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you going barefoot?”

Her eyes grew wide. “Oh!”

He laughed. “I’ll leave you alone, so you can get ready,” he said walking towards the door.

“Yes. Thank you, General. See you at the reception.”

He held the door handle and faced her with a smirk. “If you think you’ll need help later, I volunteer to take off your dress.”

He got out and closed the door before being hit by the pillow that was thrown across the room.

This is PART TWO of a LOKI REDEMPTION set of recs that mikkeneko asked for. The first half was more focused on Thor/Loki and Asgard-based stuff, while this set is more Loki/other and Avengers-based stuff.  Not that there’s not still a lot of good Thor & Loki moments here!  Just that it’s not the primary focus of these.  :)

There are probably loads of fic I’m still missing, but these are the ones I know of (as well as I’ll separately post a series of fics I think will be of interest!) that are in the vein of “post-Avengers, non-mind control Loki redemption”, which may not all get him fully to “redeemed” status, but are about the process of it, the working him towards such a thing. Some are entirely serious, some are heartbreaking, some are ridiculously silly, but all are about the process of Loki coming back around to join the good guys.  ♥

Featherling by RoAnshi, loki + avengers + possible steve/loki, pregnant!loki, miscarriage, 27k

While serving his sentence on Midgard, Loki unexpectedly finds himself in a “family way” - sort of.

He Ain’t Heavy (He’s Our Villain) by goodboots, avengers + loki, darcy & loki, background pairings, 11k

In which Thor is foolishly loyal, Darcy still wants her iPod back, and Loki redeems himself, or something.

Lost Boys by thisisnotwhoyouthink, loki + avengers + mild background canon pairings, pregnant!loki, 59k

When Loki is captured by Shield, they discover a dark secret between Loki and Odin. A different take on Loki’s ‘monster’ kids.

Quiet Poetry by FelicityGS, steve/loki, NSFW, fluff, 27.9k

Sometimes, the best gift to give someone is a second chance.

Project Loki by Sheyrena Wyrsabane, steve/loki + thor & loki + other avengers, 33.5k

Loki gets hit by a spell that requires him to remain in close physical contact with Steve. Steve decides to use this opportunity to try and convince Loki that super villain might not be the best career choice.

I heard you killed your only friend last year by Lise, steve & loki, 3.4k

It’s not exactly how Steve was planning to spend his time.

Disarm by Lise, steve & loki, 7.9k

After their last encounter, Steve really wasn’t expecting to see Loki again. Much less more than once.

Underground by Margo_Kim, avengers + loki, steve/tony + clint/natasha, tony & loki, some thor & loki, dark!thor, post-apocalypse, avengers!loki, 60k

Five years ago, Thor’s Chitauri army decimated the Earth. Now what’s left of humanity lives in bases under the Earth’s surface, safe from the toxic atmosphere. Tony likes to think that humanity’s adapted pretty well. After all, they have movie nights and dances; they’re doing better than could be expected. But when he learns that the little world of safety and stability they’ve carved out is about to be slowly but surely destroyed, the New York Underground is left with only two options–fight or flight. Tony knows which one he wants. If only Steve weren’t on the exact opposite side. Meanwhile, Natasha wants whatever option will save Clint, Pepper wants whatever option will save the base, Maria Hill wants whatever option will save everybody, and nobody’s exactly sure who Loki’s trying to save, but everyone’s hoping it’s more than just himself.

You do not have to walk on your knees by Lise, avengers + loki, 8.8k

It’s not that he’s invested in keeping them alive. The idea of someone else killing them first, though, is a bit offensive. Or: a funny pattern starts to emerge between dire situations involving various Avengers. “When you started thinking that Loki might be looking out for them in some kind of weird, possessive, only I may kill you sort of way…that was a sign you’d been in this business too long.”

Kings and Vagabonds by spinstitcher, loki & sleipnir + other marvel characters, humor, adventure fic, 29.7k

In the wake of the Chitauri Loki is stripped of his powers and banished to Vanaheim. Nobody tasers him, but there is an awful lot of singing and dancing. Accompanied by his eldest son, who happens to be a horse, Loki slowly begins to carve out a place for himself – one that isn’t Supreme Ruler of the Known Universe.

But there is another power emerging from the darkness; one that threatens the safety – and sanity – of all the Nine Realms. Loki may have given up his dreams of becoming Glorious Overlord, but that doesn’t mean someone else gets to take his place.

A Villain State of Mind by mikkeneko, loki & charles xavier + other mcu characters, crossover, some scenes of torture/gore, trauma, therapy fic, 54.9k

Written for the Norsekink prompt: “SHIELD has Loki in custody, with the gag on to keep him from spellcasting, but they don’t really know what to DO with him. They can’t give him food or water or attempt to interrogate him with the gag on, and they don’t dare take it off. Their solution? Call in a telepath! But Charles Xavier may find more things in Loki’s head than SHIELD bargained for…”

the water’s dark and deep, inside this ancient heart by artyartie, loki & child oc + avengers, fluff, 21.3k

Loki has been a Prince of Asgard and a would-be conqueror of Midgard. Years after the movie, he’s now trying to navigate the most challenging role he’s undertaken yet: a single parent in Manhattan. Juggling play dates, elite preschools, and defeating the Avengers in time to pick up his little girl, Loki finds parenting has endless challenges - and unintended effects.

Thor’s Days by artyartie, loki & child oc + avengers, fluff, 34.9k

For a nearly immortal god, a year is nothing. For his little mortal daughter, a year is an eternity. And for the Avengers, a single year might mean a chance, however precarious, to redeem the unredeemable.

full details + recs inside!

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The Other One

Beginnings are hard, especially when they are likely to cost you your life, and include the recontextualisation of belonging and perhaps even being a person. Here’s a bit of Yellow Pearl introspection/exploration and a tenuous start of some Pearlshipping that I jotted down yesterday. Warnings for abuse and slavery -  though nothing beyond what you’d expect from a fic about pearls on Homeworld. Blue Pearl/Yellow Pearl,~2000 words

The Other One

There are several things Yellow Pearl knows very well; things she keeps carefully close to constant awareness as a matter of survival. She knows that as long as she is Yellow Diamond’s personal pearl, she is something - and something important, at that, which is certainly more than most pearls can say about themselves. She holds a key position in her Diamond’s daily business, playing her part in ensuring all matters run smoothly and efficiently. Knowing exactly which data to project even before her Diamond asks for it, knowing which communication channels to forward where, knowing how to place holoscreens around her Diamond’s seat to ensure an optimal distribution of focus and attention - there is pride to be found in these hard-learned things, along with control, and power, even. Something she knows she isn’t supposed to have, but that she cherishes as it trickles down to her.

(If she tries hard enough, she can pretend she doesn’t see how the power seems to exist only when her Diamond isn’t looking.)

She knows, too, that she is far from the first pearl to belong to Yellow Diamond, and, try as she might, she won’t be the last, either. Pearls as a whole aren’t particularly known for their longevity, and Yellow Diamond’s control room has a certain reputation - a sharp reminder of the true and constant precariousness of her position, attractive though it sometimes seems. A tradeoff she likes to think she would have agreed to, had it ever been her choice.

She also knows that she is afraid, that there is a low undercurrent of terror running through her entire life - and that as long as she lets just the right (flattering, appeasing) amount of it show in her Diamond’s presence, things will continue to be fine.

She hasn’t gotten this far by being anything less than absolutely perfect, after all. She knows exactly when to bite her lip and present a calm facade, and exactly when to cringe and cower and bow until her forehead touches the flawlessly polished yellow floor. She has learned how to tell when to soothe pride and when to bear the brunt of anger. And on occasions when it gets close to dangerously too much, she knows when and how to disappear until she’s erased any evidence of distressed, shameful moments of weakness on her part.

It seems like a bit of a conundrum, at first: she can’t allow anything that could be taken as a blemish on Yellow Diamond’s flawless image, and while everything a Diamond does is undoubtedly correct and perfect, a temper could in some contexts be seen as clouded judgement… even though, of course, her pearl is hers to do with as she wants - even if that includes breaking her into tiny pieces over a minor infraction and grinding the shards into dust under her heel.

So Yellow Pearl puts on a selection of airs, and makes sure she doesn’t give anybody reason to think anything of her Diamond that she might not want them to, makes sure she is out of the way when it is needed of her, and in the way when that is needed of her.

Above everything else, Yellow Pearl knows self-preservation.

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take my hand, we’re in foreign land

Title: take my hand, we’re in foreign land 
Author: phansomniac 
Artist: vocalsinmyveins
Beta: geistergeschichten
Word count: 13.5k
Rating: PG-13 (mentions of sex)
Warnings: TW alcohol, swearing ( a lot yikes dan) 
Summary: dan studies english lit and creative writing at university, a writer wound up in the works of art words can create. phil transfers to english lit, and after a one night stand they face the trials of living with each other for a year, coping with each other through ups and downs and, eventually, they find they’re closer than anticipated. 
Author’s Notes: i can’t actually believe this is finally completed!!!! it’s been a real Journey writing this fic but i’ve really loved working on it and i’m happy with the result!!! it took a lot of pain and suffering but i got through it and grown too attached to the characters (sven is my Son (#den otp)) so i’m really excited to see if you all like it <3 i am extremely grateful for all the lovely people who have helped me with this fic, especially my wonderful and supportive beta anna, my lovely artist sarah and my BFF amy for helping me so much throughout this whole writing process. thank you all for putting up with me and being so lax on me for cutting it so close to the deadline :’) i hope you like it!!!! msgs are encouraged bc i love feedback and i’d love to hear your opinion <33 alSO i was going to have a playlist for this but i gave up so the most important songs associated with this fic are death cab’s a lack of colour and transatlanticism, debussy’s clair de lune and tøp’s ms believer .



Dan sees colours in words and atmospheres between the spaces of letters and sometimes, his hands stain under the weight of black ink.

He has this theory, as the type of person who never leaves their hands without a pen or a notebook for more than a few minutes, that one day the words he prints onto paper will jump up and make something out of themselves. It’s more of a wish, really, when everything he writes seems to flatten into the paper and shrink into nothing, have no depth whatsoever. Because he wants his stories to thrive, to actually have a presence in peoples’ minds and be remembered, but it’s not so easy when his words don’t cooperate the way he wants them to.

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anonymous asked:

Jasico- Argo II Crew is sneaking around trying to throw Nico a surprise b-day party, but he's like super suspicious and corners Jason for answers about what they're doing? Idk that might be too detailed srry

“Why did party streamers just come out of Valdez’s toolbelt?” Nico asked nonchalantly. He sat on Jason’s bed, fiddling with a Rubix cube that Leo’d aimed at Jason’s head earlier that morning. 

Before Jason had the chance to fall nervous, Nico barricaded him with another set his questions. 

“Why are there new clothes in your closet? And why is all the furniture moved around in the living room? Why’s everybody avoiding me more than usual?" 

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Future Fish: Chef Haruka x Fireman Makoto AU

Written by: my-ships-have-canons.tumblr.com, August 2014

This fic is really long (I’m not exaggerating- 10 pages); it is also heavily detailed and slow-paced. If you are looking for something quick to read, this is not it. However, if you do have the time to invest in it, then I hope you enjoy it.
The story is based on my idea of how the Future Fish! AU would work.

Warning: This fic contains some mildly graphic imagery.

Rating: SFW! I apologize if you would prefer NSFW content (and I can write some for you on request, if you want), but it didn’t feel appropriate for the storyline.

**While mainly focusing on the MakoHaru ship, it contains some elements that may be interpreted as MakoRin. There are also elements of other ships like SouRin and SouMako, so this could be interpreted as a multishipping fic, depending on how you read it (I honestly didn’t intend for it to be that way, but here it is). The story also features some cameos from supporting characters that are, in my opinion, quite interesting.

***There may be a part two of this fic, depending on how I feel, but I can’t guarantee anything. Please let me know what you think of this (your reactions, good things, bad things, where improvements can be made, etc.)!

Future Fish: Chef Haruka x Fireman Makoto AU


The story is set in November, 5 years after Haruka and Makoto’s graduation from high school. Haruka has graduated from a university with a master’s degree in culinary arts, and, after combining his savings with a portion of Makoto’s earnings, has purchased and remodeled a seaside restaurant, which he has just recently opened. Haruka and Makoto’s childhood friend, Aki Yazaki, works as a waitress at Haruka’s restaurant.

After receiving an associate’s degree in health services/ paramedical technologies, Makoto has been working as the active captain of the town’s main firefighting brigade for 3 years. His unit works closely with the police department, and he is in frequent contact with the head of police, Rin Matsuoka, and his chief lieutenant, Sosuke Yamazaki.  Makoto has saved many lives, and is a popular local hero.

Haruka and Makoto live together in a seaside cottage located exactly halfway between the firehouse and the restaurant. They have lived there for 5 years, and hope to live there for many more.


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Simply Ichabbie: Rice Krispy AU (Ichabbie Fanfic)

Difficult conversation, but how I think Ichabbie would talk about this. If anything in here is wrong, let me know. And tell me what you think. I hope this is okay and didn’t get off track and that I wrote this well. Please let me know. @quietstorm-thundathighs @justkaynspring

“I can finish up,” Abbie said.

She took up their plates, left them on the counter. She ran some water in the sink. Crane stood. She was in one of her moods where she wanted to be alone for a bit. Something must have happened at work. She was awfully quiet at dinner, but Crane wanted to be there for her.

“It’s no problem, Leftenant.”

“Crane.” She looked at him.

“Very well.” He kissed her forehead and exited the kitchen.


He spotted her on the couch when he came downstairs after his shower. She didn’t join him this time. He would’ve given her a bath and washed her hair.

An opened Rice Krispy was in her hand. The square was bitten at a corner. Her day must’ve been something terrible if she ate one of those.

Abbie didn’t face him. She didn’t acknowledge him even when he sat by her. Her eyes stared into her sticky treat.

She messed with the wrapper. “One of the white teachers at an elementary school shot four beautiful little black children in her classroom today. All because of the color of their skin and who she assumed them to be. We didn’t get there in time to save them.”

She nibbled another bite. Crane never knew what to say when Abbie told him such horrifying stories about her job and how it affected her. He definitely didn’t know what to say in this case. This was new. This hit home. He could empathize with her, but he could never fully understand its magnitude. He couldn’t relate.

He got on his knees in front of her. His hands sat on her thighs. He kissed her forehead. He had no idea what she felt.

She lets her tears drip down her neck. “It’s 2016. This is still happening. We die all because we exist. Some people hate us, Crane. They were children. Babies.”

He touched her cheek, wished he could have done something. Saved them.

“I think of us, history, everything in the past.” She sniffs. “You would’ve owned me. I would’ve been your slave.”

He couldn’t breathe anymore. He shook his head and stood and paced. His fingers twitched. What could he say? That he wouldn’t have done it? That her life and other African-American lives mattered? The idea of him or anyone else even owning Abbie and her family, treating them like animals and not humans of a free will….He balled his fists, bit the inside of his cheek.

“Please, don’t say that, Abbie.”

“Maybe you would’ve tied me to whipping post and beat me until sundown.”

His rolled up his sleeves; his skin burned as he strode across the living room. “Stop.”

           "Or maybe you would’ve raped me. I would’ve bore your children.“ Her laugh was dry. "Children.”

Why wouldn’t she quite?

“Damn it, Abigail.” He faced her.

“We can’t ignore it, Ichabod.”

“No, but…it’s disgusting to even…” He sighed.

“Sit down, Crane.” She put the Krispy bar on the arm of the sofa.

He bent in front of her again, grabbed her hands, and kissed them. She touched his cheek; he kissed her palm. She wanted them to have an honest conversation. He just had to admit that their race mattered, that it’s always going to matter.

“We would’ve been about to do this. We were against the law,” she said.

He doesn’t like to think about her as a….slave or segregated from him or God forbid, lynched. That was not who she was or any other African-American. No one deserved that. No one should be treated like that. It’s despicable and unimaginable. Yet, as a history professor, Crane knew this was American history. It was also a part of English history. He always felt a little uncomfortable discussing that dark period with his students. How do you speak about such a horrid time?

When Black History Month came, Abbie took him to a few museums, and they’d watch documentaries and films. Crane forced himself to endure to the end. It was hard, but it was important. Abbie asked him afterwards what he thought. Something along the lines of, “Thank God this isn’t our era anymore.” or “Thank you for sharing this with me.” always escaped his mouth. He never went into detail. What could he say? If he were honest, it made him sick to know what his ancestors did to Abbie’s. He hated it. Yes, they acknowledged history and their relationship in terms of race, but they never had an in-depth discussion.

He glanced away from her, played with her fingers. It saddened him. “We were.”

“Maybe we would’ve been like the Lovings. Interracial marriage was outlawed in Virginia and other Southern states. They got married in Washington, but when they came back, they had to leave Virginia. Eventually, they went to court about it. The Supreme Court ruled they had a right to marry and that they could return to Virginia.”

He touched her cheek, nodded. “We live in that world now, where we can freely marry one another. I am most grateful for it.”

“Crane, talk to me.”

He paid attention to their hands. “I am talking to you, Leftenant.”


He sighed.

She got on the floor with him, crossed her legs, and patted the space in front of her.

“That isn’t necessary.”


He sat in front of her; she held out her hands. He took them.

“This isn’t easy for me either, but we have to. You’re angry. Me, too, but I need you to tell me. It’s how we grow from the past, how we heal, if that’s possible.”

Where does he start?

He didn’t look at her. “I note the stares we sometimes receive from others. We could be walking or dinning in, grocery shopping. I’ve seen them. I don’t quite like it. It…I get so livid.”

Some shook their heads, turned their backs, lifted their noses. Some scooted over or went the opposite direction. Some wouldn’t even acknowledge Abbie’s presence. Whenever they wouldn’t, Abbie and Crane left the restaurant or store. Forehead kisses, a squeezed hand, a reassuring smile covered the sting. He never asked her how she felt; she never told him.

“I know the feeling.” She played with his fingernail.

“Would you like to talk to me about it?”

She shook her head. He lifted her chin. “I thought we were talking.”

She smiled small. “We are talking.”

He chuckled. She bit her lip.

“At moments, it’s like I don’t matter when we’re in public. Some people look at me like… like I’m a filthy nigger.”

He clinched her hands, put them to his heart.  Why would she ever refer to herself as such?


“That’s the truth.”

He cleared his throat to keep his tears in check. This wasn’t about him right now. She wouldn’t let their eyes meet. Her throat swelled; she let the tears slip down her neck again, wiped her face with her sleeve.

“It angers me. It makes me feel like a dirty animal. As if we don’t belong together or that I’m beneath you. Inferior. Less than.”  

Her tears slipped out the corner of her eyes as she slightly tilted her head back. She couldn’t face him.

He took both of her cheeks. He kissed her forehead multiple times; he stared at her. His skin scalded again.

“No. Never, Abbie. You are my better half, my equal, my entirety, the muscle that makes my heart beat.”

She kissed his lips. “You’re mine, too.”

“Are you ever angry at me?”

She nodded. “You don’t defend me when it happens. You don’t defend us. I get mad at myself, too. I don’t stand up for myself or us either. We let them win. Everytime.”

It hurt to hear. She was right though.

“I am so very sorry.”

What else could he say? He was a coward. Why did he let them do that to her, to them?

“It’s easy to ignore. We pretend it doesn’t bother us and that we’re strong enough to handle it when we aren’t. It’s going to always bother us whether we want it to or not.”

“I will change that.”

“It’s something we both have to work on. I’ve done my fair share of not defending you and our relationship, too.”

She’d tell him the comments people, even some of her co-workers, have made about them and how she wouldn’t respond. “You’re dating him? A white guy?” “You’re his property, right?”, and “What do you call him? Master?”  These are some of the things she’d been told.

“Maybe we do it because we want them to change their minds about us. However, some of them will never see us for us: two people in love,” he said.

“That’s the thing. We aren’t just two people. I’m a black woman in love with a white man. You’re white man in love with a black woman. We can’t help our skin color, and we can’t change the past. We can’t change the opinions of others either. All we can do is show them who we are as a black woman and a white man together.”

“Our race will always matter, won’t it?”

She nodded, and he leaned back against the sofa as she sat between his legs. He held her like he wanted to, kissed her neck. She fell back into his chest, then grabbed her Rice Krispy treat off the arm of the sofa.  Split it in half. One piece was for her. She have him the other. They chewed with one hand and watched their fingers twist and untie together on the other.


Prompt: Jungkook does not like people, but one day he meets Taehyung and everything changes.  
Author’s Note: Entries that start with dates are from Jungkook’s journal.
Author’s Note 2: Deals with some dark themes, proceed with caution.

Kim Taehyung is an outlier and should not have been counted. 3k words.

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Just Want to Touch You for a Minute 1/1

Pairing: Captain Swan

Rating: Teen (sorry no actual smut)

Okay, this isn’t exactly what you asked for, but I hope you like it anyway!

Read here or AO3 or FFN


Emma glances down at her phone again, a frown marring her face when she sees the blinking dot is still in the same location. She starts to walk faster, carefully stepping over large branches and fallen logs. This is one of the denser sections of the forest and as far as she can see, there’s nothing out there but trees, trees and more trees. She has no idea what he could possibly be doing this far away from town or why he’d be staying in one place for so long. The GPS dot hasn’t moved since she turned the tracker on at the station almost thirty minutes earlier.

She’s trying not to play out worst case scenarios in her head, but she can’t seem to help it (this is Storybrooke after all). Her father and Killian had both left the station five hours ago to patrol various parts of the town while she stayed back and dealt with the insane amount of paperwork piled on her desk. David checked in three separate times, but she hadn’t heard a word from Killian. At first, Emma hadn’t thought much of it. She knew he didn’t particularly like the cell phone (his third in less than a week after his hook had destroyed the first two in what may or may not have been accidents). But she’d expected him to at least come back to see her after a few hours.

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Back In My Day...

The Craftsman was, to put it bluntly, sick and tired of all this Transcendence nonsense. Back in his day, demons were properly feared and respected, not called upon every five minutes for some trivial bit of nonsense. Back in his day, the Craftsmen Races paid proper respect to their Creator, not to whoever gave them enough nasty looks. And Back in his day, that upstart Alcor wasn’t running around and changing everything.

But, of course, The Craftsman had learned to adjust. Change was one of the most vital parts of Creation, after all. He’d gotten used to it when people stopped calling on him to create works of wondrous beauty and unimaginable terror. He’d gotten used to it when he realized his ways of Creation, of hammers on steel and needles pushed through thread, were simply not widely used anymore. And now he was, slowly, getting used to the Transcendence.

However, he still needed to see a certain someone, and bestow his eons of wisdom upon them. Which is where the summoning circle came in. It was perfect. The Craftsman’s circles were always perfect. He saw to that. He performed the ritual, lighting the beeswax candles and cutting open his palm on a freshly-crafted knife made specially for the purpose to let the blood flow into the circle.

“Alcor, an old man requests your presence..” The Craftsman said, sure that while the summoning itself was informal, the Demon would feel the power behind it. As he expected, the candles burned a bright blue and the shadows of the room coalesced into a single figure, run through with lines of glowing yellow.


“Quit that nonsense, Alcor, we have things to discuss.” The Craftsman said, looking Alcor straight in the eyes. “I’m willing to offer you three Snickers bars for a conversation. You cannot harm me, mentally harm me, or indirectly cause me harm in any way during this conversation. Use of magic is prohibited. This is a friendly conversation. Deal?”

Alcor was a bit surprised. This old man knew what he was doing… “Deal.” Alcor said, extending his hand for The Craftsman to shake. As they shook, blue fire extended over the Craftsman’s arm, and he nodded grimly. Pulling the candy bars from a pocket, he threw them to Alcor and seated himself in a nearby chair.

“Forgive me, Alcor, but these old bones simply don’t have the strength they once did. Now, allow me to clear the air, as it were.” The Craftsman stated, listing off a few basic details. “First off, as I’m sure you guessed, I am not your average old man. I’m a demon, known as The Craftsman. However, I don’t plan on harming you. I’m here to give you some advice.”

Alcor was shocked. A demon had summoned him, and he wasn’t trying to do something terrible to him? This was both shocking in a regular way, and a slightly pleasant way.

“Second of all, I know that while you are new, you also have unimaginable power at your disposal. Hence the terms of the deal, and why I won’t even try to back out on them.” The Craftsman continued. “Finally, I am completely, entirely honest when I say that this advice will prove helpful.”

Alcor nodded, still a bit surprised by all this.

The Craftsman looked up at Alcor, fingers steepled. “Any questions?”

Alcor supposed he did have some. “Why, exactly, are you giving me advice? Aren’t demons known for being backstabbing, generally unpleasant jerks? I mean, uh, aren't we known for that?”

The Craftsman chuckled. “Because, Alcor, my time has long since passed. I was once a mighty Creator, practically a deity in my own right. But my time has faded, and my powers as well. And I sense your potential. I wish to pass on my knowledge.”

Alcor supposed it made sense… KINDA… “But, your powers faded? How?”

The Craftsman closed his eyes. “And that is where my advice comes in. Alcor, one thing you need to realize is that Demons are not eternal. We are immortal, yes, and death does not come easily to us. But we are not eternal. I was once one of the mightiest. Since the first man tied a rock to a stick and made a hammer, I was there. And now, my ways are old, ancient, gone. I no longer get the worship I once did, and I no longer receive the offerings I did in the past.”

Alcor nodded. “I… still don’t quite get where you’re going here.”

The Craftsman sighed. “My point is, we are not forever. Within the next few centuries, I will most likely be gone entirely. It has been a long, arduous journey through this life, and I suppose it would be greedy of me to wish for more. Do your best to hold your power, Alcor. Make your mark upon mortality. Show them fear, and wonder, and make them worship, Alcor.”

Alcor supposed he understood it now. Simple, important advice for a being like him. But he still wasn’t sure why this Demon was offering him this advice. “Uh, thanks, I guess, but seriously, why are you helping me? This is… weird.”

The Craftsman supposed he could be honest. “Alright, I suppose part of my goal is to live vicariously through a younger, stronger demon who can actually accomplish things. Is that so wrong though? I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Alcor. Your sister’s sweaters are perfect conduits for my sight, child.”

Alcor was distinctly uncomfortable with the Craftsman’s smile. “Relax, I’m joking. It’s just nice to have someone who continues the Old Ways, Alcor. Now go, enjoy the sweets. I could never stand the things myself, but…”

The Craftsman’s rambling was ignored as Alcor disappeared as soon as The Craftsman told him he could leave. As he wound down, The Craftsman smiled. His time was long gone, yes, but there were always others. Always others…