Evna
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The morning glories had closed up in the darkness, and probably were going to shrivel in the frost overnight, but I could still remember exactly where I had been sitting when he passed by. I dipped a spoon into the precious dregs of of my honey from last fall and let it drizzle into the water. It had crystalized a bit over the winter and I had to scrape the last of it off the spoon with the side of my finger. I left the fish sitting on the bank with the morning glories.
Helios had always recommended honey and wine for gods, but I didn't have any wine and didn't know where I could get it out here anyway. Besides one time I saw an infantryman successfully call a goddess with nothing but his daily ration of smallbeer and a pinch of salt. I hoped the god would understand. The honey probably counted for extra since I'd harvested it myself from the hives under the trees beside my cabin—I bet those ancient Greek knights just bought theirs from someone.
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“We both know a locked door can’t stop you.” The stranger sits beside Aiden. “You want to be here.”
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"You, uh, saw the news too?"
"I did." Then, in the interest of full disclosure, Valery admitted, "Actually, I saw the crab rave video posted on Senator Gale's social media."
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Sophia Wentworth was devoted to her brothers before she found happiness. Then she wanted the same for Frederick . . .
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After AWE, Elizabeth and James fall together and try to find a future amidst so much death. She's not sure what she wants, and he's learned what he can't have-- they're left figuring out what they can piece together and who they are after everything.
Or, a story in which Elizabeth sleeps a lot and learns to wake again, and in which James bleeds and coughs and badly sews a coat.
Bookmarked by Evna
10 Jun 2026
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“Of course,” he said easily, like he had when they made their unlucky arrangement. If reading her favorite book meant sticking around for longer than the duration of this hospital stay, of course. Of course he would.
or;
He's offered his protection before, on the Green. In the hospital, Cee wonders if he'll offer it again, and Ezra wonders if she'll even want him to.
Bookmarked by Evna
08 Jun 2026
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She didn’t know how to tell him that she’d stopped imagining what her life might be like without him. In fact, she’d stopped even considering a life where he wasn’t around. Which felt foolish because she shouldn’t even like him. They shouldn’t even still be together. People like them didn’t form partnerships. But… they had.
Sometimes a father doesn't love his daughter. Sometimes a man loves her anyway, even after she's shot him in the arm and sort-of-saved his life.
Or, Cee reflects on what she knows about love, discovers poetry, and learns how to swim.
- Language:
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Bookmarked by Evna
08 Jun 2026
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i sweat my rust by Cypherr
Fandoms: Iron Lung (2026), Project Hail Mary (2026), Project Hail Mary - Andy Weir
11 Jun 2026
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Simon wakes slowly, booting up one atom at a time. The first thing he registers is that he's pleasantly warm— not the suffocating heat of whatever iron lung they had sent him down to die in. The second thing he registers is the plushness of whatever surface he's lying on. There's no harsh metal boiling against his skin. He doesn't immediately open his eyes. His brain feels syrupy and full of fog all at once, and he finds it rather nice to just exist in this soft in-between. He'd done good, hadn't he? Was this Heaven? He died on that ship, in the mouth of a vengeful beast that couldn't recognize its own ghastlyness. Heaven was nice, Simon decided. He liked Heaven.