hi i'm leggy (24, they/them) and this is where i bury my Arcana/Last Legacy/Touchstarved stash like a squirrel preparing for winter. mostly here to write fanfiction.
I love characters that appear arrogant or self-centered but you don’t have to dig deep to find it's a poorly built façade to hide the fact that they actually despise themselves with every ounce of their being.
I tell my boyfriend "nothing in the world can bring me back to life"
I'd do anything to feel it for the first time
& I feel like the angels pulled a joke on me
they laugh & turn their backs
they leave the club & set the place on fire
I couldn't make it out there fast enough
Female characters who are the sole voice of reason <<<<<<< Female characters who think of themselves as the sole voice of reason but who are actually just as insane as those around them
please comment or reblog telling me your favourite fictional knights, from anything.
i want to write a fic
premise is that it’s set in the sovereign tower universe (which you won’t need to have knowledge of to read the fic) but all the knights are isekai’d. it would be a few chapters long building to the final quest to open portals to get everyone back home.
Any knights are allowed! i would even put shrek in the fic tbh. Its silly nonsense but i want to hear the people’s choice of knights pretty please
That ‘comment on your a03 work’ email hits like a line of cocaine every time. unmatched dopamine increase. shoutout to everyone who leaves a comment on fics. you deserve the world
you know how i said felix would try to do something he does regularly with magic and fails which leads him to figuring out something is wrong. yeah. i stand by that
but he’s had his fair share of overexerting himself and tries to stay calm since he did…die. maybe it’ll just take a little longer this time
but it’s been almost a week, too long, and he’s getting antsy. so he tries again, something smaller this time
you hear him mutter a quiet “what?” and you turn and ask what’s wrong
“i—i can’t…it’s not working i don’t understand what’s happening i—” his breathing quickens and he turns to you. he looks confused and so…scared
so you get books. and you keep getting books to read while felix continues attempting different spells and usual fixes that he does
but he gets more and more frustrated and everybody could tell
especially when sage would try to tease him and all felix could do was send a glare. until the day he took it a little too far and felix looked over, telling him to just “shut up already”
it gets awkward. because you all understand why he’s so upset but you can’t…do anything. just keep trying. keep watching him and making sure he eats and rests, pulling him along to take a bath then sleep, promising to bookmark his pages before joining him. even when the silences that fall between you feel heavy and you feel out of sync despite your best attempts
but everything suppressed is bound to explode eventually
looking back, felix is glad at least it was just you two in the room
you had been cooped up in the study for a couple of hours (shorter than usual) when felix speaks
“i think we should stop.”
“what? oh it is pretty late, um…you can get ready to sleep then, i’ll pack things up. do you want to come back tomorrow afternoon or so? i think we can take at least the morning off.”
“no.” “…what?” “i said no, mc. i can't—” he lets out a deep sigh and runs his hands over his face, aggravated “—i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep searching endlessly for a hint at what’s happening to me. i look in the mirror and i see this mark on my chest and it’s agonizing and i just…can’t.”
even now he’s hyperaware of the growing symbol, the tingling sensation a constant on his skin
“we’ll figure it out. you’ll get your magic back soon—”
he’ll get it back. it isn’t permanent. it’ll come back soon. soon, soon—it’s all felix has heard and repeated since the first day but
“what if i don’t get it back? then what? who am i if not a necromancer? what can i do for the starsworn without my abilities? read? i’m not anisa or sage, magic is—was,” his voice strains, “my life. i just—i can’t lose it. especially not to some damned god,”
there’s spite in his voice as he shuts the book in front of him
he had replayed the moment it scratched him over and over, thinking about what he could have done differently
“if i had just been stronger or faster it wouldn’t have gotten me. i would have recovered. i wouldn’t be here every night. i’d be able to do the simplest spells that escape me now. i’d be able to look in the mirror without feeling pathetic, bottomless despair. i’m useless.”
you reject the last idea immediately (as you should)
but all of his emotions and insecurities are spilling out of him and he can’t seem to stop them
“felix you are nowhere near being useless—”
“yes i am. look at me, mc. i—” he raises his arms for a moment only to drop them again. “i can’t do anything. if we were attacked right now no one would be able to depend on me. at least not like they could a few weeks ago. i’m a sitting duck just waiting to be shot.”
“and you,” his voice wavers, tears threatening to spill, “you have to deal with it. with me. you’ve been dealing with me, for days and days. brought me food, run baths, read even when i got tired, watched me wallow in self-pity. and you shouldn’t have had to, mc. it isn’t fair.”
his voice cracks at the end, and his body is curled in on itself when you first hear him sniffle and finally, finally start crying.
you feel stuck in place as you watch his breathing quicken and body shake. you wonder just how hard he’s had to stop himself from doing this any earlier, or if he already has in his time alone
and you know some people don’t like being approached when they’re crying or breaking down. but he trusts you, the same way he always has
so you take his hands away from his face, wiping away his tears and gently holding his face so he has to look at you
there’s an odd mixture of defeat and pain in his eyes
it’s all tumbled down now, and what’s left is pained vulnerability when he says “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”
his apologies turn more incoherent as he grabs you and presses his face into your chest
all you can do is hug him tighter and run your fingers through his hair, pressing a kiss to his head every once in a while promising him that “it’s okay, i’m here. i’ll always be here.”
he only cries harder at your reassurances, his guilt and appreciation fighting to overwhelm him. so you tell him “i’m sorry…that you have to go through this. you don’t deserve it, felix. and if i could give you my own magic i would, you know? i’m so sorry. i’m here now, promise.”
and you continue to remind him that he’s still him past the magic and necromancy. that “i’m not going to say that your magic wasn’t a big part of you it—it was…is. but i never felt like i had to deal with you not having it.”
you didn’t fall for him just because of his powers, but because of his kindness and the way he made you laugh, the time he spent helping you, the nights you’d spend just talking to each other, his interests that you embraced and were always intrigued by, the way he would light up when you asked about the novel he was reading,
he clutches your body tighter because even if magic evades him, you’re here. you’re still here and you’re warm and kind and everything he didn’t think he deserved. you’re here listing reasons to love him, running your hand up and down his back, and he doesn’t know what he would have done if you weren’t