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the-lady-amphitrite · 9 months

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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.

#amphi answers #cleo fox #of fire and of ice #tales lost in time #as long as you love me #this fic always makes me sad LAKSDJF;LKASJDGF #i don't regret starting this fic or the fact i'll post it eventually #but it's super depressing to write all the happy and sweet stuff in it and know she's dying in the end

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propheciesanddreams · 2 years

Text

As Long As You Love Me

cw: mentions of vomiting non-graphic. mentions of murder non-graphic (idk do we cw for that they are death eaters). referenced abuse (parent to child).

"What did you do this time?" His best friend is standing there in front of him, arms crossed and a stern expression on his face when Barty stumbles into the dorm room late that night.

"Nothing." Barty smirks. With a tilt of his head he adds, "Nothing they didn't already have coming to them." This much is true.

"Who this time?" Evan pinches the bridge of his nose but Barty can see the slight tug of his lips like he's trying not to smile.

"Potter and his crew, what do they call themselves again?"

"Marauders," Regulus pipes up from his bed where he's reading. He doesn't look up or put the book down, he's long since grown tired of Barty's shit. Barty loves him, really.

"Ridiculous name that. Yeah them. Potter was going on about the game Saturday and I may have accidentally vanished all their quidditch equipment into the Lake." Barty shrugged and went over to his bed. He left off the part where they had actively been using the equipment but they really hadn't fallen that far. Besides, Lupin had cast a cushioning charm on the ground in time. The worst that happened was Potter's hair got messed up, which wasn't far off from how it usually looked. "You better beat them on Saturday, Reg." He adds.

"Plan on it." Regulus replies, again without looking up. Barty assumes they're done discussing his activities of the day and starts digging through his trunk for something to snack on; he's mostly out of all the sweets he bought last Hogsmeade trip. He’ll have to get more.

"Got any pepper imps?" He asks the room at large. Evan rolls his eyes at him, which he finds quite rude. He's still standing there with his arms crossed. "Come on Ev, am I in trouble?" He throws his arms around his friend's shoulders because with Barty there is no such thing as personal space. He fully drapes himself over Evan's side looking into his eyes with a pleading look. They're roughly the same height, Evan just a few inches shorter which means Barty is leaning down slightly to meet his gaze.

"You can't afford another detention, your father is alre–"

"My father can go suck dragon eggs." Barty cuts him off and pushes away from Evan, now mirroring him by crossing his own arms and narrowing his eyes. "Besides, I didn't get detention, did I? You know Potter, they'll just retaliate, then we will retaliate, and no one will get in trouble unless somebody tells." He looks pointedly at Evan when he says this last bit.

Evan sighs and runs a hand through his hair, lifting it and combing his hand slowly through so that it falls gently back over his face. He says he needs a haircut but Barty rather likes it like this, floppy and in his eyes.

"Fine." His hands fall to his side in defeat. "Fine, but seriously you need to start being more careful!"

"Yeah, yeah. Are you angry with me?"

"No, you bastard. I'm not angry with you." He sighs again and offers a small smile. Barty surges forward and kisses his cheek.

~~~

"Ev?" He calls into the curtains that are closed around his friend's bed. He's probably asleep, it's gone two in the morning. Barty can't sleep though, his left arm is searing hot and the pain is shooting through his entire body. The Dark Lord makes sure he cannot be ignored. Even though Barty is not expected to respond, since he's still at Hogwarts. Though he has noticed that Regulus' curtains are open and the bed is empty. The bedsheets don't look like he's slept in them at all tonight.

There's no answer from Evan's bed so Barty risks opening the curtains and climbing onto the bed anyway.

"Ev?" He asks again. The bed really isn't big enough for the both of them, now at seventeen they've both grown into themselves and it's much different from seven years ago when they were eleven and all three dormmates could fit on a single bed.

Evan stirs and rolls over to face Barty. His golden hair flops into his eyes as he rubs sleep out of them. For a minute Barty doesn't feel the pain in his arm anymore, his thoughts focus on how beautiful Evan is and how much he wishes to lean forward and kiss him.

"What is it, Barty? What time's it?" Evan slurs out, sleep still dripping heavily around his words. Barty shakes out of his thoughts and remembers why he came here in the first place.

"Ev… I think I've messed up." He admits. He really wishes he didn't feel this way. Regulus was the first of them, at sixteen he followed the Dark Lord without question, returning after the summer with the Mark branded and carrying himself with more confidence than he already had.

Barty had found out and immediately wanted to prove himself. After all, this was exactly the kind of thing his father would hate. The ministry was the entire world to Barty's father and it elated him to think of that world crumbling around the miserable man.

Just last week when they were supposed to be in Hogsmeade, he and Regulus had instead apparated to the Black family home where he had met Lord Voldemort for the first time. He'd been intimidated, scared, and determined all at once. Here was a man of such immense power and Barty was going to prove himself worthy of his time. After, as he watched the ink spread over his arm, he could hardly contain his glee. It was only Regulus standing stoically at his side that had him hiding that excitement.

Now a week later, he's felt the Mark burn three times. Each time he's gone to breakfast the following morning and scoured the Prophet. Three Muggles Dead Inside Their Home in Leeds. and Nottingham Muggleborn Couple Attacked After a Night at the Theatre. and Muggle Law Enforcement in Bristol Issues a Curfew After Last Night's Vicious Murders. At first Barty itched to participate, to cause more trouble than the petty fear he spreads around Hogwarts. It's easy to scare a third year with a few properly aimed hexes, he wants the challenge of actually being out there. He wants to prove himself worthy of the cause.

Tonight, however, he felt the Mark burn and felt sick to his stomach. He'd had an immense visceral reaction and had to rush out of the common room before he was sick all over Regulus' herbology essay (because the swot was still doing schoolwork and maintaining top of class grades as if he weren't already set up for life with his family name and status with Lord Voldemort).

"What is it, Barty?" Evan asked, he'd sat up straighter and his eyes looked clearer, sleep having been blinked away while Barty was lost to his thoughts. His eyebrows knit together in concern but Barty didn't say anything in response, he just looked Evan in the eyes. The other boy must have seen the hurt within them because he reached out and grabbed his left hand to pull him further onto the bed. It was a simple gesture in itself but the cool of his hand caused instant relief up Barty's arm and he sighed in gratitude.

"I think I fucked up." Barty repeated. Without saying anything, Evan guessed at what was happening. Maybe he had seen Barty grasp at his arm the last few times this week, especially that first night when the pain came as a shock and he bit his lip to keep from crying out. Evan carefully rolled Barty’s pyjama sleeve up and revealed the dark ink there, the serpent and the skull entangled together a symbol of the death they will ensure to the muggle loving world the ministry has encouraged.

"When?" Evan asked, his fingers a comforting cool as they skirted over the Mark.

"Last Hogsmeade trip. I don't–I don't know if I can do this." He admits. "Maybe I'm not worthy enough."

“He wouldn’t take a gamble.” Evan said with a reverence Barty had never heard. He hadn’t even realized that Evan had kept up with the cause aside from the small details Regulus had provided them both with over the last year. “Whatever you did, he believes in you.”

“I—I don’t know that I can do this. Not alone.” Barty is so close to crying now. Something about Evan being right there beside him makes him feel safe for the first time in a week.

Evan looks up at him, blue eyes meeting green ones. There’s determination on his face and before he even speaks a shudder of dread overtakes Barty.

“Then I’ll join too.”

When the school year ends a month later, Evan proves himself and receives the Mark as well. That night they hold hands in the dark completely silent; they’re both too afraid to speak their true fears into the air around them.

~~~

“You were brilliant, you were. Can’t believe you took a chunk of the old bastard’s nose with you. Of course you would, because you’re brilliant. No one else like you. No one will ever replace you.”

Barty kneels on the cold earth, completely alone. He pulls his cloak around him tighter against the cold air. His left arm by contrast has been burning hot for thirty minutes now and he knows that if he ignores it any longer he’s going to be in for a world of hurt.

It’s just that Barty simply does not care. Nothing can cause him any more pain than he is already in. How much pain can the Cruciatus curse be after the pain of losing his two best friends? What’s a hex after it feels like his heart has been ripped out still beating to leave him bleeding on the earth below him?

His eyes scan up at the cool stone in front of him, Evan Alexander Rosier, the words etched there barely look real. He’s seen that name so many times in the last ten years. He’s made fun of that middle name. He has curled that ‘R’ around his tongue as he flirted across the breakfast table. He’s called out that name in their most intimate moments, Evan… Evan…Ev…

Now he doesn’t get to say it anymore. Now he’s been taken away because Barty fucked up. Because Barty was supposed to be there. He was supposed to be on that mission except his father, his fucking father had come calling to his flat as soon as the Mark had burned. Evan had excused himself, making it appear as though he wanted to give father and son a moment alone together and apparating from their doorstep he had left for the last time. Barty was supposed to be there to keep Evan safe. He’d fucked up and this time Evan wasn’t around to forgive him.

His wand slipped into his palm as he rose and the spell was past his lips before he was conscious of it. It hit the tree beside him, splintering it in half with a loud crack!

“I fucked up, Ev.” He whispered past tears. “Please forgive me.” Then he disapparated, not even sure where he was headed.

~~~

He lowered his wand and stared into the space before him. Only the trees looked back at him.

He couldn’t believe it. After all these years, all this time, he was free. He was fucking free!

He has the fleeting thought of a promise made years ago in a different lifetime. When they’d felt a very different type of freedom; they’d been doe eyed excited children new to the power magic presented them with, their desires plentiful and their arms clear.

“I’ll make him pay.” Barty had muttered under his breath, pacing back and forth in their dorm.

“What with? A lumos or an alohomora?” Evan teased with a grimace as he pulled a vest on, covering the worst of the marks on his back.

“We won’t always be small. We’re going to learn more magic and we will be bigger than them one day.” Barty replied with determination. He kicked his trunk, regretting it immediately when pain searing up his leg.

“Just drop it, Crouch!” Evan warned. He sat down on his bed with an exhausted expression. At twelve years old, he looked older than he should. Hogwarts could shield him from only so much before he had to go back home.

They were silent then. The only sound was a steady thumping as Barty kept kicking his trunk, lighter this time.

“I’m going to kill him.” Barty declared resolutely after neither had spoken for several long minutes. The toe of his left foot had begun to go numb and he stopped his rhythmic kicks.

“You can’t.”

“Watch me. Just watch me, Ev.” It was one of the first times he had used the nickname. He couldn’t name love for what it was at twelve, nor really had he been able to at seventeen, or at twenty. That’s what it was though, when he stared into those eyes, he felt nothing but love.

“Watch me kill them both. They will pay for thinking they can hurt us.”

He had been so resolute. The certainty with which he had spoken was only that which a twelve year old, unaware of the boundaries of the world, could hold. Now, all these years later, he has done it.

Evan’s father still lives but that’s not an issue, once his Master is back and Barty is free from posing as this ridiculous man, the daily reminder of his one love’s murderer, he will make sure Evan’s father meets the same fate his own just has. Then they can both be free. They can both breathe.

Barty takes the bone he’s transfigured his father’s corpse into and buries it. He buries it deep where no one would even think to find it. Then he paces a few steps behind a tree and vomits.

Still a softie after all these years? Evan teases in his ear. Barty can hear the lightness in his laughter and the warmth of his breath on his neck. He wipes his mouth clean with the back of his hand.

“Shove off, Rosier.” He mutters in that gruff voice of the man he’s pretending to be. At this point he’s not even sure he remembers what his own voice sounds like. Of course, he would never forget this voice though. He tries to walk away but Evan is clear behind him, trailing his every step back through the forest towards the castle. Barty burns under those eyes. He longs to actually reach out and touch more than just the night air and his imagination.

Are you quite done with all this pretending? Evan asks, sure and steady, not a waver in his voice. Barty stops walking. The leaves rustle in the trees overhead and he thinks he hears something scurry across the forest floor not far from him.

“Will you forgive me, Ev?” He asks instead. In that moment it’s all that matters. Real or not he needs to know that Evan forgives him, that he still loves him, wherever he is now.

That’s a nice look you’ve got going for you. Evan responds. Barty blinks and he’s gone. He wants to fall to his knees then, wants to wail and scream until something from the forest finds him. Instead he swallows down around a sob threatening to come up and goes to find Potter.

#spin the record #rosekiller #Barty Crouch Jr #Evan Rosier #love writing Barty #I’ll probably post this to ao3 once I can edit it better #thanks Britt and Holli for the challenge!#as long as you love me #sleeping at last #Evan’s middle name is now Alexander #Spotify

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