So, as I mentioned, I finished my awful evil exam of doom and although my sense of self-worth has been erased out of existence, I AM FREE. So, to celebrate, now taking fic requests! (I've never done this before and always wanted to try and now feels like the time for pointless indulgences).
First five commenters get a flash fic of their choice.
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Death to Death
Once upon a time, there was a woman who was meant to die and a poet who was meant to grieve her death so heart-brokenly that even the gods would have pity and give him the chance to steal her away from death; but he would turn and look and fail and lose her forever, or so the story goes. And so, poetry is born from unending sorrow. Charon closed the book mid-story, and considered again the sleeping child before him, grateful that those green eyes that still seemed stunned by pain had eased into even a fitful sleep. In a gesture that was so foreign that he wondered at himself, he brushed back the thick dark hair on the small uneasy forehead, resting his calloused hand there a moment, before getting up and leaving, closing the door behind him quietly ( ... )
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Also OMG The Girl Who Leapt Through Time makes me cry.
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Fairytale Endings
The thing about fairytales, Rue realized too late, is that nothing is perfect. Or rather, by their very nature, good things must unravel, so that what had at first felt like a wonderful and beautiful happily ever after for her and Mythos soon turned into a horrific once upon a time.
Once upon a time, there was a kingdom ruled by a wise and good prince and his princess. They had both overcome a dire fate, broken an impossible, ravenous curse and brought peace to the land. But then one day, the prince fell ill and the land fell into disquiet and unrest... It had come on so slowly, and Mythos had been so busy lately, that even Rue did not notice, until one day as the early morning light streaked into their bedroom through a gap between the velvet drapes, and she opened one eye in irritation and then both in disbelief. Surely it was the starkness of the light, the way Mythos’ cheek looked so hollow, the ( ... )
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Ffff no need to be sorry! I really liked it, thanks! :D That's a take on a post-series scenario that I've definitely never seen and I found the twist very interesting. And I enjoy some dark fic, especially when written well and engaging - which yours certainly was!
Thanks a lot!
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But I am really glad you enjoyed it!
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Sugar and Spice
Mythos didn’t mind going shopping with Autor, in fact, he was rather looking forward to it. What he didn’t understand was why Fakir had outright refused. The prince had very carefully snuck away from the kingdom for just this occasion. He wanted to surprise Rue with the most perfect present, and push out all those memories of his heartless years when Rue herself had bought the presents, had made him give them to her, and then looked with heartbroken eyes as he complied mechanically.
The problem, of course, was Mythos had no idea what a perfect present was . Surely Fakir, who had always guided him, would. But curiously, when Mythos arrived at Fakir’s doorstep and explained his errand, the former-knight had looked at him with something akin to horror ( ... )
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But, well, she was also so perfect, he thought with a pang, remembering her queenly bearing, her graceful limbs. And once she, in all her perfection had entered his mind, he couldn’t get her out of it. Everything they considered, those swan-shaped earrings or these scarlet toe-shoes made him imagine her wearing said items, and made him remember each perfect detail of her. She was incandescent, she smoldered like a flame, she burned hotter than the sun. She was so hot. Ugh, did all his wonderful, poetic emotion boil down to that horrid vulgar expression in the end? But once the ( ... )
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(I kept picturing Myto holding up the item and being like, "Hmmmm..." and you can't help but exclaim, "Nooooo somebody stop him! He dosen't know what he's doing!" *flails*)
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Thanks so much!
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