#more rambly than an actual drabble bc i just wanted to get this down somewhere

[chucapybara]

—as bruised thorn wilts.

some thoughts on innamorati and arlecchino's first few meetings.

the arlerati brainworms really wouldn't let me rest until i get these ideas down 😭 it just kept going... it's 1.8k words...

no particular cw just a lot of mindless, rambly brainrot and inna vaguely dishing out her "love" (hint: murder)

the duty of a ferryman is to guide a voyager from one point across the river, to wherever their destination beckons them. through snow and rain, the unfettered innamorati abides not by weather, but by the calling of her passengers and the calling of her majesty's mission.

and so, when she finds a lost snezhevich in the wilds of elynas—young still, no taller than her hip—inna knows she must safeguard his return.

the child, having been separated from the rest of his siblings, was compelled to wander by tales of the beast whose bones now lay slumbering, fused in grass and soil. one of such youth had no purpose there so far away from his "family", and had gotten himself into trouble with the local creature population.

bearing fistfuls of hail and frostwind comets, innamorati had descended then upon the breacher primuses assaulting him, to the little snezhevich's amazement. a knight clad in armour dark as the twilit sky—yet with a kind touch in spite of their harsh scolding, kneeling down to speak in lowered tones and inquire what would bring him thereabouts.

innamorati knew this place well, could taste the taint of abyss even through the sheet of her helm. it was no place for a young boy.

she escorts the snezhevich back to the rest of his group, then back to the court of fontaine. they speak to her about the things they found amid the marrow, the curious plague upon the earth turning the grass as sundered violets.

rainbow roses, the rare sprout, had been the eye of their venture: a gift, they said, for their elder brother, before their sibling had wandered astray. to pick the carefully cultivated roses near the fount of lucine and within perimeter of the court might warrant trouble, and being the spry imps they were, had dared to brave the sea and to cross into the beryl region on their own.

for the most part, inna counted herself impressed by their courage (and their audacity). she made it known so, as their boat crossed the waters where it would be safer, still. she had the least liking for children, but it did not escape her the endearing quality to their spoils: a small bouquet of rainbow roses, clumsily held within a table napkin. a modest gift, to be sure, but one of great heart.

her odd kindness was not lost upon the children, either. where innamorati made to depart from the court—she was not particularly welcome in many cities, due to the nature of her profession—the snezheviches and lone snezhevna tugged at the cool, almost icy metal of her gauntlet, pulling her with them.

(children of snow ought not have any qualms in touching this frostbitten elegy, as is their birthright; and even little favours such as this deserve utmost thanks, as it was how they were raised.)

it wasn't long before their residence came into view: the hotel bouffes d'ete, headquarters to the house of the hearth, where a familiar duo stood speaking by the door.

a notable magician's hat, and a pair of quaint cat ears. their voices are hushed, a secret spoken between brother and sister.

as they received the gifted flowers and welcomed their lost siblings, who then in turn introduced the obsidian knight that had led them home, eyes fell upon innamorati. but of those eyes came a pair not present in their midst—the gaze of baleful scrutiny.

as she tilts her helm in its direction, innamorati almost believes a pair of crimson crosses had flashed just by the second story window, before vanishing like a spectre.

arlecchino hardly ever went uninformed by matters of consequence both dire and miniscule. after all, as a diplomat and fatuus, every morsel of information did not come without its value, however minute.

thusly so, it was not lost to her, the identity of that armour-clad figure. every harbinger ought to know the movements in relation to their ranks, and when an addition had been made upon the lowest rung, she'd thought little of it—another pawn to the tsaritsa, and no more.

so who could draw blame at her suspicions, when the abyssal spawn adopted by her majesty had personally seen to escorting her children back to the hotel? she had heard wind of the flesh that creature had torn apart with bare tooth and nail, of how they had feasted upon the denizens of the tsaritsa's domain; and how the tsaritsa had glimpsed the sane wedged in their madness, and thought hopefully of the nourishment those lives had offered to a potential servant of hers.

“even a collared devil must surely, too, have its benefits to keep.”

no more than a chained beast, made to amend for those troubled villagers she had fed on. arlecchino almost pitied the poor thing.

albeit so, the children—arlecchino could see—were nary scratched or nicked in their return. they seemed almost joyous, in fact, perhaps sheepish as they offered lyney a bouquet of rainbow roses held together at the stems by a tablecloth. a crude gift, but a gift nonetheless. so, perhaps, let the children be.

the knave's gaze would return once more to that armoured veil. the way they stood, almost timid in the throng of her fosters, uncertain. it seemed almost...

human.

innamorati had very little need for accommodations: a boon to the finances of the fatui. having dug her way out of the recesses of the earth after five abyssal years meant there were few conditions inna could not survive in, maybe none at all.

after completing an excursion of her own into sumeru and handling affairs of some stragglers (affectionately, in that morbid way of hers), innamorati received a letter from a scout that spent quite some time seeking her.

work to be done in fontaine, once more. more affections to ferry across the seas, and with it, a peculiar offer: an invitation, as guest, to board for a time at the hotel bouffes d'ete, as extended gratitude for returning those wayward children.

as she sits with the letter, her armour still stricken with red, innamorati thinks then of the little ones she had found traipsing around elynas, the magician duo.

the crimson x's from the window.

there would be no purpose to it. her work did not need to involve the house of the hearth or its director, but perhaps there was no undoing the ties she had woven on that day. the memory of that family’s “warmth” still lingers, tantalising, tempting—a moth to a flame, an invitation sitting on parchment in her hands.

the sweet tang of iron wafts through her visor. a limpid growl churns in her frigid soul, the rousing of another within.

she'll consider it, later, once she has quieted her little beast.

the day innamorati arrives is not the bloodstricken hour—that is to come yet.

she doesn't quite know what to do with herself in the lobby of the bouffes d'ete. the air is sweet with the fragrance of flowers—almost too sweet, she thinks—and cinder from the ever-flickering hearth, lending a warmth to the room that almost drew dew across her armour. cold, versus heat.

the children welcome her, and they speak of a "father" who is yet to arrive. inna vaguely recalls. they have not met in person, but she has heard of the woman: the lord they call knave.

one cursed, knowing another of similar ilk. but as innamorati stands in the presence of the knave's children, she couldn't help but find them pure as the untouched fire, with a lingering shade to them—the shade, perhaps, of the acts their life has led them to do.

there is an offer of a hearty meal, but innamorati politely refuses. she does not remove her helm, after all, in the presence of others; her visage is a mystery, even to inna herself.

(she almost fears what she might see, at this point.)

in return, she offers a chest of trinkets and baubles, toys and other useful things, treats and foods: items she’s procured during her time in sumeru. a guest, of course, musn’t come without bearing gifts—to do so would simply be rude, and innamorati was anything but rude. a callous lifetaker, perhaps, but certainly not rude.

as the fosters begin proclaiming which of the gifts are theirs, that familiar looming presence once more returns to haunt her. not the one that resides beneath her skin, but the other.

the “father” has arrived.

when the children rise to greet her, innamorati does the same. the sharp resounding steps, a distinguished gait, a cold and calculating gaze sharp as the gleam of a scarlet blade—there was no doubt that she was the fourth of them, indeed, an indisputable fact. in comparison, innamorati may as well have been nothing.

neither of them speak, for a moment, merely trading stares of acknowledgement. the recognition of one fatebringer to another: murky shadow beneath a visored helm to baleful crimson x’s.

“a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, innamorati.” she speaks the name with tempered intrigue, enough to make the discernment of tone difficult. neither a threat nor a welcome, but a measured neutrality.

innamorati tilts her helm, ever so slight. “a sentiment i share, lady arlecchino.”

it is the first they ever meet in person, and the first of many others to come.

for someone dubbed a chained beast, arlecchino found great interest in the manner by which innamorati interacted with the hearthfolk. the lovers seemed almost timid in the way freminet was known for, content merely to observe, her responses to queries quaint and modest—soft, almost. it felt nothing like the vicious bite she had expected out of a muzzled taskdog.

perhaps arlecchino had been too quick to conclude anything about the knight.

inna’s words held an underlying melancholy to them, even as she spoke of other things: the meaning of this sumerian gemstone inlaid upon this brooch, the background of the artisan who crafted that vibrant spinning top. she spoke with respect, which could hardly be said for many other fatuus, especially among the other harbingers.

but her tales—ah, innamorati’s tales. the knave had no shortage of stories all her own, but she was oft content to lend the stage to others, to let them speak; for in speaking can one reveal aspects of who they are to those who listen. a most apt technique indeed for information gathering, and one that brought to her some surprises.

what had taken possession of innamorati, then, to have raised her to just below tartaglia’s rank? what had she glimpsed in the depths of the abyss that she would hide away from all the world, veil her countenance, and become as another? perhaps it is the softness she shares in him, that childe; the softness unbecoming of the tsaritsa’s most dangerous.

it felt almost like reverence for the world, a love for the life that went into every little thing she brought to the hearth that day.

needless to be said, of that first visit, the children lacked for nothing by way of stories to carry regarding the gifts they chose for themselves.

somewhere, somehow, a feeling stirs in arlecchino. a burning curiosity, she finds, to gather all that she can on this beast parading within metal skin.

would she still be a knight, then, at the end of those flames—virtuous and upstanding in the ways decreed by the tsaritsa? when the veil has been turned to ashes, what ever shall remain in her wake?

she cannot help but sense a pulsing eagerness to find out.

[imagineurfavs]

Liquid Confidence

I'd like to submit a request for a drabble with GOT7 Youngjae, 37, 43, & 57. IMO, there just isn't enough for Youngjae...

Pairing: Youngjae (GOT7) x reader Prompts: “I’m not drunk enough to have this conversation” “Would a friend do this?” “Can you just shut up for 5 minutes please?” Summary: just a drunken confession lol Genre: Fluff?? idk really... Word Count: 1,485  A/N: this is beyond terrible im sorry im apparently terrible at writing anything with any kind of emotion sjghsjgns

Pushing your way through hordes of sweaty strangers, you make your way to the exit of whoevers house it was you were actually at. You’d only tagged along to this party because you had been assured you that your friend Youngjae would be here; but it didn’t look like he’d bothered to turn up. Without his desperately needed comic relief, you really didn't see any point in hanging around.

 Just as you reach the door and go to grab the handle, a clammy hand reached over and rested upon your own. You spun around expecting to see a red faced stranger ready to ply you with more alcohol in an attempt to get you to stick around. Instead, you were met with an equally red faced, and very drunk Youngjae “y/n!!!! I’ve been looking for you all night- I was hanging out in the kitchen then for some reason i ended up in the bathroom, I’ve been everywhere but I didn't see you so i thought you weren’t here but I spotted you from the other side of the room so i ca-” he rambled on, his sweaty hand still on yours atop the door handle.

“Wait. You’re leaving?” He stopped himself mid sentence to ask, spotting your hand still trying to turn the handle. With his eyes growing larger, the drunken giddiness on his face turns to a look of disappointment.

“Well yeah, I don’t really see any point in staying. I was waiting for you but honestly now I just think my social interaction meter has run out for today, I just wanna be somewhere quiet and ma-”

“Wait no. You can’t leave, I’ve got something to talk to you about, come with me.” He cut you off, now grabbing your hand and leading you through the rooms, making his way to the back door on the other side of the house.

Pushing open the door, you’re hit with a cold blast of crisp night air, the sounds from the inside vanishing slowly as the door closed behind you.

“Everyone went inside because it’s getting kinda cold out” Youngjae said with a nervous giggle as he let go of your hand, beckoning you to a garden table surrounded by worn out plastic lawn chairs. “Plus at least you can get a bit of quiet now” he continued, picking up a half empty class of unknown alcohol someone had left behind.

After a few minutes of relishing in the new quiet atmosphere, you turn to Youngjae, who was leaning back in his chair, staring blankly at the night sky, “What was it you wanted to talk to me about...?” You said across the table, breath hanging visible in the air.

“Oh...yeah, right, that” He answered, snapping back to reality and sitting upright, finishing what was left in the glass in one big gulp. Letting out a big sigh and leaning closer to you across the table. “y/n...I like you. Like...really like you...”

“Oh god, that was blunt...are you saying what I think you are..?” shifting uncomfortably in your seat you mumble with a sigh “I’m not drunk enough for this conversation.” trying to avoid eye contact, but you can still feel his gaze piercing into your cheek.

“Well” He draws in a long breath, trying to compose himself as much as possible “I am drunk enough and I really need to tell you. I promise it’s not just the alcohol talking, it might seem like it is but I promise it’s for real. I’m being serious.” Without looking you feel his hands shift closer to your own, barely touching, but close enough to feel the warmth radiating from them.

You keep your gaze locked firmly on the ground below the glass table, but listen as he speaks out loud. His stream of consciousness continues “I know you know what I’m gonna say y/n, we’ve been friends for such a long time, I know, but I really think I like you more than that, y’know? Like...we’re like peanut butter and jelly, Tom and Jerry...and other analogies I can’t think of because to be honest...I’m pretty hammered...” he trailed off with a giggle. “What I’m tryna say is, we’re inseparable... there’s no me without you...”

“I really need you to think about what you’re saying Youngjae, we’re friends...best friends I might even say.” You knew you should probably stop talking, but you couldn't stop your words coming out, before you knew it you were babbling right back at him “And I’m not saying that I’ve never thought about you in that way, I have, many times but like what if everything goes wrong and we end up hating each other, I dont want that to happen but like wha-”

“Can you just shut up for 5 minutes please?” He spoke clearly, the intoxication in his voice almost fully disappeared. “Are you saying you feel the same way y/n?” You could pretty much hear his massive grin in the tone of his voice, you wanted to see that smile so badly but you didn’t think you could face him.

“Well...I don’t know. Maybe” You hear the sound of the plastic chair moving across the patio and Youngjae standing from his seat “I mean, yeah, I guess I do...but we’re friends Youngjae, I don’t wanna lose that...ah, I dunno...”

Before you could look up, you see his feet directly in front of you, he crouches down so his face is inches from yours. Taking your chin with his thumb, he lifts your face so your eyes meet with his own.

“Would a friend do this?” He spoke with a shaky breath, leaning forward to plant a soft kiss on your lips. An overwhelming taste of alcohol on his lips is the first thing that hits you, replaced slowly by his overwhelming warmth. Suddenly the cold air felt like a hot summers day. 

The kiss was sloppy, but meaningful. Messy, yet innocent. With every move of his lips against yours, the world around you began to feel further and further away. One of his hands rested on your shoulders whilst your own cupped his soft flushed cheeks. His free hand sat comfortably on your thigh, drawing small circles with his thumb.

Even with the awkward crouched position he was in, you felt his body relax next to yours, deepening the kiss as he leaned in closer to you. Every movement of his lips telling you everything he never had the courage to admit to you before. 

Your moment was cut short by the door being flung open, a rowdy friend of yours practically falling out on to the patio next to you. Youngjae pulls his lips away from you, but keeps his hand protectively on your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.

“Ooooooooh...whats t-this...did I interrupt you two...hah- sorry...it was about time you two got together though...we’ve all been waiting for you both to ad- admit you like each other loooooooool...sorry- pretend I was never here..” They said as they stumbled backwards, quickly tried to make their way back indoors.

“Well...now I’m embarrassed” you mumbled quietly, head hanging low.

“To be honest” Youngjae replied laughing “I’m more embarrassed they said lol out loud. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Plus like they said, it was about time anyway”

He moved slowly to his feet, offering you his hand as he stands. “Come on, you wanna get out of here?”

“What exactly are you insinuating?” you laughed, standing up, ready to make your way out.

“What?!?” I’m not suggesting anything like that!” He answered with a jokingly shocked expression on on his face, “You said before that you wanted to go somewhere quiet...and I wanna be with you, so I thought we could both go somewhere together, yeah?”

As you make your way back through the house, you’re met with the laughter filled cheers of your intoxicated friends as they spot you walking hand in hand with Youngjae. You turn to him just as you reach the door you very nearly walked out of earlier, met with the crescent eyed smile of your...friend?...boyfriend...?

“We’re totally dating now by the way, we’ve kissed and everything, it’s the law” He places one last very dramatic peck on your lips, one that he obviously wanted everyone close by to see. After causing chaos you quickly scurried out of the house to the sounds of yet more rowdy excited cheers. 

The night was bitterly cold, but you didn’t care; you’d stay out all night if it meant getting to stay with Youngjae even an hour longer. Before you were even aware, the boy had let go of your hand and was removing his jacket, draping it carefully over your shoulders. “I wanted to do that earlier, but I didn't wanna let go of your hand” he admitted quietly as you continue strolling peacefully though the dimly light suburban streets.

-------

a/n lets just pretend i ended this on some super sweet note and didnt just cut it off randomly bc I apparently have no idea how to end things lmao sorry 

[fangirlandiknowit101]

For the writer's ask game, All Odd numbers 😁 no need to answer all if too many. Just wanna hear ur ideas on somee 😁imiss your fanficssss

omg idk if i love you or hating for asking so many questions in one goXD Aww i’m still writing, just veeery slowly... and i’ve had a few very rough weeks (mostly bc of work) so i haven’t had much energy or motivation at all - trying to get back into it so i can write the whole weekend!

1.  Do you listen to music when you write?

Sometimes. It depends! Sometimes it helps get into the mood or avoid distraction, but sometimes the music makes me think of other plot ideas which is highly distracting *sweats* Lately, i’ve listened a lot to imagine dragons while writing!

3.  Computer or pen and paper?

computer. i have some notebooks with old stuff written down, barely readable. why did i write plotlines in pink?? can’t read it at all lol

5.  How much writing do you get done on an average day?

haha.. on average it’s like, nothing. but if i actually have time to write that day, it can be anything from 200 words to 4,000. usually i don’t get to more than 4K in one day for some reason (unless i switch fics to write on lol). maybe 1,000 words is a fairly accurate average!

7.  Standalone or series?

usually standalones. i’ve only written one sequel in my life and it’s not even finished (Missing pieces)

9.  Current WIP

The sun within me, Lessons in love, For You My Sun, Sugar Star are the ones waiting for new chapters. i’ve got a couple unpublished/unfinished WIPs in my folder... we’ll see if i manage to finish them at some point but i don’t really dare to describe them in case someone would actually want to read them

11.  Books and/or authors who influenced you the most

hmm tough question. i grew up reading authors like David Eddings, Eoin Colfer, Tamora Pierce, i went down and checked my bookcase and those three are actually the ones still on display haha. of course i read books like harry potter and narnia etc. too. lots of fantasy basically - and lots and lots of horse books, but i don’t think you can tell in my writing lol. Ender’s game by Orson Scott Card is a favorite, as well as the hobbit and The name of the wind by Patrick Rothfuss. when i studied Finnish in university i had to branch out and read books i would never choose myself, and that really influenced me to broaden my perspective so to say. last book i read was probably Wayward son by Rainbow Rowell (i’m a sucker for sad gay vampires apparently). i also read a ton of murder mysteries like agatha christie when i was younger.

plus, all the manga i read - dragon ball and naruto and love hina and yaoi and god knows what

13.  Describe your writing process from idea to polished

oh dear. i usually get an idea that goes sth like “wouldn’t it be hilarious if...” and then it spirals out of control. like, my first long fanfic, Results of a shitty day, was literally me saying “you know what? i want to write a long drama fic like all those other cool authors do” and there was no plan besides at all at first.

i tend to just write a first chapter and then have a general idea of what i want to explore - a certain character growing a certain way, or a certain trope, or just the one scene that won’t go away. For The sun within me, it was literally “hey what if i wrote naruto and sasuke in the road to ninja universe” and for Lessons in love it was “man i really want a fic where Yurio is Viktor’s son and they’re fanboys of Yuuri’s skating”, and me rambling to a friend in the car about it until i was forced to sit down and write it. i definitely make up the plot as i go. every time i decide the plot in advance i end up changing it anyway (yes, this happens even for oneshots sometimes). i love planning though - so much that i constantly re-plan the stories and plan the chapter while writing it too. 

15.  How do you deal with writer’s block?

badly. i’m a procrastinator. usually i switch between stories, if that doesn’t work, i try to write sth new, usually that doesn’t work and i end up reading fics until i’m convinced i can never write as well as other people can. and then i just have to take a break until my brain goes ping! and i can write again.

17.  What writing habits or rituals do you have?

i think the only habit i have is getting easily distracted. *cough*

19.  How do you keep yourself motivated?

i’m constantly writing in my head - daydreaming if you want to call it that. typing is very difficult, but i’m usually motivated by the fact that there’s nothing better than to sit down after a long day and just enjoy a really good fic about your OTP, and since people enjoy my writing i can’t just quit and rob them of this. i can’t just enjoy fandom without paying back when i actually have the possibility to do so. it usually works!! also, when i type, the story takes shape in a way it doesn’t in my head, which is actually really cool so i read my own stuff now and then just to remind me of this. 

21.  Who is/are your favourite character(s) to write?

Sasuke

23.  Favourite author

hmm i don’t have just one. or do they mean fanfic author? well i wouldn’t be able to choose either way!

25.  Favourite part of writing

when i manage to type a scene the way i pictured it in my head. and when i just write without a plan and things start to make sense!

27.  Favourite line/scene

actually, every single scene in The sun within me is my favorite lol

29.  Favourite villain

does Sasuke count? no? i’ll say Baz in the Carry On series

31.  Least favourite part of writing

the first sentence of a fic or chapter. getting started is the hardest!!

33.  Have you ever killed a main character?

i wrote a drabble with naruto and sasuke in the afterlife once. i don’t think i’ve actually killed anyone???

35.  What scene/story are you least looking forward to writing?

the next chapter for Lessons in love is giving me a lot of trouble currently :(

37.  First sentence or your current WIP

This is the first sentence of chapter 16, Lessons in love: Their last full day in Hasetsu passes in a blur.

And this is the first sentence if a yoi smut fic i’ll post when i finally finish ch 16 for LiL:  The metro is always crowded at this time, and Yuuri hates it.

Don’t tell anyone i’m working on yet another smut fic for yoi.

Aaaand this is the first sentence of a sasnar fic i’m writing on when i’m too tired to actually write anything seriously:  Sasuke was surprised to find that he was not the only one to be summoned to the Hokage’s office.

I know it was an earlier question, but i actually have something like 17 WIPs in my WIP folder that are not posted in any part yet, of which most will probably never see the light of day. 

39.  Weirdest character concept you’ve ever had

hmm i don’t know

41.  Any advice for new/beginning/young writers?

i have much advice. but i don’t think any of it is very original. the most important thing - there’s no such thing as failure when you’re writing fanfic. write what you want and when you want, the only way to get better is to keep writing! i just re-read an old story to see if it was worth editing and copying over onto ao3, and realized i had used the word “pinkette” to describe sakura. we all start somewhere... and if you ever look back on old fics, focus on how much you enjoyed writing the fic, not if it’s good or not!!

43.  What do you do if/when characters don’t follow the outline?

if they don’t, it’s generally because they’re right and i’m not. forcing them back into the outline only makes for awkward writing. i always go along with it to see where it goes - sometimes it ends up somewhere much better than planned, sometimes you realize you’ve made mistakes way back in the fic and now you’re stuck with the choice of changing the plot or going back to rewrite. 

45.  How much world building do you do?

i actually hate world building. and describing things like scenery and places and clothes. i’ve had to really force myself to work on it. but i also make sure that i only give the absolute necessary information and then slip in the rest in bits and pieces where it fits. but since i mostly write in already set worlds, it’s usually not that necessary. 

47.   Best way to procrastinate

look at fics and put them in my marked for later and then procrastinate reading them by working on WIPs that are not my published WIPs and then procrastinate those WIPs by finding new fics to read and then maybe re-read my own fics. oh, and scrolling through social media

(i don’t actually have a lot of time to procrastinate bc it’s usually work-take care of horse-shower and dinner-sleep)

49.  Which character would you most want to be friends with, if they were real?

Phichit. so much fun!!!

Wow, that was a lot of questions and a lot of fun!! Sorry for the super long post you have to scroll by lol

Thank you for asking!!!

[saessenach]

what I’m working on

Rules: List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on. This can be writing, art, vids, gifsets, whatever…

I was tagged by @missmungoe, who was nice enough to remind me that I have far too many things to finish writing. thank you kindly :D let’s hop onto this ride and hopefully not bore anyone to death.

I feel like this should get an honourable mention, so yes. My biggest goal atm, personal and professional alike, is to get into uni. I hope to study architecture, and I’ve quite a bit left to work in that area, but fingers crossed that I’ll manage.    

Moving onto writing stuff, I feel like anyone who looks on to my ramblings on this blog every now and then is mildly aware the I sometimes start sprouting nonsense about my tragic otp from a very tiny fandom. oh well. Said otp is comprised of two immortals, who married each other at some point in the BC and somehow managed to keep getting it on for 2000 years, until Philippe was tortured into insanity, commited pseudo-suicide and died in Ysabeau’s arms. 

They are unimportant side characters in a fairly entertaining book series, which gives me bits and pieces I can base my far too many hcs upon.

concerning them, I have the following stories more or less in progress:

*a short drabble series which details the meaning of naming in their relationship, and how their nicknames for each other ironically ended up being the names they are most widely known by

*a wedding anniversary fic, or it were that, if they hadn’t forgotten the actual date, and year, of their marriage. they basically just use this as an excuse to get drunk and embarrass each other in public. with the entire family gathered. grandkids present and all that.

*a conflict of interests becomes both too personal and too political for them, which issues an unofficial separation. Ysabeau is left behind guarding Sept Tours and nursing her fair share of regrets and doubts, paired with the uncertainty about whether Philippe is still alive or not. meanwhile, he, having had to face his wife’s and his own reciprocal betrayal, feels lost and leaves on a journey, in order to clear his head and find himself again. Years later, he returns home with a foreign king in tow, and while absence does make the heart grow fonder, or somesuch bs, it also lets feelings fester. badly. This is set somewhere in the 8th or 9th century AD, and it’s quite possibly the one I am most excited about, because I want to explore their worse sides, see how resentment and longing make for interesting marriages and what not 

*somewhat pwp one shot, them cranky on the run in the rain. And it’s cold. It doesn’t get much deeper than this, y’all. I think there’s brandy involved.

*a reincarnation AU, where Philippe is an up and coming artistic film producer, and Ysabeau, both knowingly and not, his muse,

*another massive oneshot in which they deal with separation. Again. Only this time it’s more purposeful; aka they find themselves in opposing factions of a civil war in Jerusalem, 11th century. It’s a tale of knightly valour, a lil bit of mothering, and of course, how could I resist writing Ysabeau meeting and serving a queen (seriously, go and read about Melisende of Jerusalem, she was a bamf) with whom she shares a name? I’m a girl of simple tastes. Also, people do comment on Philippe’s ass. For some reason entirely beyond my understanding. pfft.

*oh god, how could I forget this?? Last, but not least, the widow in a field of corpses, or alternatively, Ysabeau’s descent into madness following WW2, throughout Philippe’s captivity, and before, during and after his death. 

Also, shoutout to my darling friend who asked me to make a collection of ALL my Philippe/Ysabeau headcanons. I bet you regret that now.

AWAY FROM MY OTP, I think I have gushed enough. 

I have a couple of requests I’m STILL working on terriblysorry  which include\

*a discussion of Safiya/Merrik vs Safiya/Caden from Truthwitch

*Iseult/Aeduan hcs they arecoming

* a Jamie/Claire drabble which is sweet enough to rot my teeth

I am also working on a part 2 of my fic there is a house built out of stone, in which Iseult, Aeduan and Owl start getting even more used to their not-a-family-dynamics-no-no-not-us. Identity vs intimacy vs what it actually feels like to be accepted and all that. Lovely stuff.

I kinda started and as a matter of factly want to finish a tiny fic for the same friend’s original story. Kittens all around, there.

Also, I’ve a very late birthday fic for someone special, in which Matthias gets plastered, Nina finds it way too funny and shenanigans ensue.

There is also an unfinished Az/Elain fic somewhere in my folders, and I really would like to let that see the light. Someday. Maybe.

As more or less original work should count my trying to find some sense in a story idea I had back in my very early teens, which showed promise. Esp in the direction I am taking it. I mean to take some time after the uni business has calmed down and focus on it. 

And finally, I have the plot outline of a personal interpretation of the Arthurian myths, although the likelihood that something similar already exists is quite big. Nothing new under the sun.

BAHHHHH I am finally done. I’ve most likely forgotten some thing or another. welp. So much to do, so little time. 

THANKS again for the tag! Hopefully this has satisfied your curiosity and if not, well then, you’ll have to wait and see when I write them. I wonder what @laviperagentile, @bookseffect, @pandemonium-palace, @itach-i and @itgoethbeforethefall have to add to the tag :) 

cheers