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annaberunoyume · 1 year

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A most cute, charming encounter in the woods (Drunk!Wally Darling x Fem!Giant!Naga Reader)

(Drunk!Wally wandered a little too far into the woods near the Neighborhood…He suddenly bumps into something reddish-pink. It's

a huge, gigantic serpent tail. He seems surprised, but drunkness

keeps him from being afraid. He hugs it.)

Female!Giant!Naga Reader (or Genderneutral, if you prefer. up to you. I shall write it with fem! pronouns, but you may imagine yourself as you, as well. ^^):

Hmmm? (She raises her head, feeling something touching the tip of her tail) A mouse? Hmmm…I could use a mouse… (She gets ready to strike, but stops abruptly when she sees Wally just blissfully hugging her tail. She slowly wraps the tip of her tail around him, in tilted confusion, lifting the oddity up to her eyes.)

You're not a mouse?

Drunk!Wally: (Just notices now that he is up. He looks at the tiny coil around him. He then looks up…And in utter awe…Curious (eye color) eyes looks back at time. He is in rapture at such beauty) Are…Are you a goddess?

Fem!GiantNaga!Reader: No…(she smiles, tilting her head) Are you a mouse?

Drunk!Wally: Hahahahaha! No! (he looks at his bottom) Do I look like I have a tail? (hips)

Fem!Giant!Naga!Reader: Hahaha, no. Are you a human?

D!Wally: Not…exactly. I'm a puppet-man…I suppose.

Fem!G!Naga!Reader: Hehehe, one thing for sure, you're a cute oddity.

D!Wally: (Twirls his hair in shyness, Blushing orangy-red) Hehehe…You're quite the pretty one, y-yourself…

Fem!G!Naga!Reader: (Just smiles warmly. She smiles as Wally yawns, rubbing his eyes)

D!Wally: Pardon me, my lady…I had a long, fun night…(He rubs his eyes)

Fem!G!Naga!Reader: I can see that…Maybe I can keep you company while you sleep…(She moves her face closer to Wally) You may even enjoy a goddess's lullaby… (She flutters her eyes)

D!Wally: (Smiles, blushing, enamoured and twitterpatted) Mmmm…I would…For sure… (He folds his arms under his head, lying it sideways atop the coil around his chest, an adorable, sleepy, blissful smile, on his face.)

Fem!G!Naga!Reader: Hmm… (singing) Heaven's gift to me, just the way you are, a new age child from a distant star…It feels so good just to be so close to your love, you are Heaven's gift to me… (She gently wraps a coil around his wait and thighs, in a chaste way, just to keep him warm) You are so sweet and pure just the way you are…Mama's previous jewel, Daddy's rising star, there's so much in life for you to see… (Wally hums in utter bliss. He can almost feel her voice gently vibrate on him) And so much to be, you are Heaven's gift to me…

(The Naga la-las into the night as she makes her way towards the Neighborhood. After a spell…She reaches it. Home looks at her with wary, almost angry eyes. They both have an unspoken conversation. The Naga understands that that tiny puppet-man is very important to that Home. She takes a bow and gently lies the sleeping Wally on the ground at Home's door.)

I simply wish to bring him Home, Madam. Good night. (She slowly slithers away to the woods. Home opened her door and gently takes Wally inside with her goo.)

THE END

Lullaby that reader sang in this story:

youtube

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cr0g-0 · 1 year

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Writing from me?? Real and shocking.

Part of something much longer to write hggh-anyway the shadows :3

Wc-2603

Tw-Death, Gore It is crucial to plot

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Lullaby of Hell's Shadows [Was I just a commodity?]

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The loud clang of metal echoed through the woods as the brunet stumbledback, a cut stinging across his nose as he panted.

“Wilbur! Your form is atrocious! Do you expect to win a fight with that type of form? Let alone against a highly trained, mature human??” The ravenette scowled, glaring at her son as he stood, heaving with his hands on his knees..

The sword was too big.

The boy blinked any tears away swiftly as he looked up to his mother and straightened his form. “Sorry mo-”

“It's Kristen, Wilbur. Say it correctly or we’ll be out here for another hour training. Am I clear?”

The boy took a deep breath in. “Yes Kristen. I understand.”

They had been training for years but the training was already far more rigorous than he had been used to over the nine years of his training that had started when he was just six. His mother told him he had a great purpose. One that would aid them both in having a better life than…

He cringed a little as he looked around the woodsie area he had called home for fifteen years of his life.

Glancing back down at the ground, he noted the shadows curling around his ankles and tugging at them. Guess it was time for another awkward and rant filled dinner.

His stomach growled at the thought of food and he wasted no time scuttling to the wooden hut, resting his sword amongst the thick and tall grass before he entered the hut and rushed over to the table. He pulled the chair out and sat down.

His mother reentered the room with two bowls of presumably potato soup.

Apparently it had been his mothers favorite dish back where she had come from.

She settled down at the table with a sigh and looked over at Wilbur.

“You are destined for great things my son…”

Oh boy. Wilbur’s all time favorite. A dinner time lecture which ended in Wilbur feeling anger, hatred and guilt towards his cruel and foolish father who had betrayed his mother and him and how he had totally fucked over his life.

His father would pay though. Soon.

“Your father could have fathered such a noble and wonderful son…it is too bad he will not be able to fully appreciate the weapon you have trained to and have become.”

Wilbur’s heart swelled with pride, a grin spreading across his face wide before he quickly hid it from view as he slurped the warm and smoothe soup. His mother was proud.

“However…I am worried. You’re becoming sloppy with your form and the beginning of the autumn harvest is to come soon which means winter will come and…?” She looked at Wilbur expectantly for his answer.

There was a small, sad sigh as Wilbur ran a finger over the grains in the wood and took a deep breath.

“And it’ll be too snowy and cold and the king won’t be outside and easy to find for a duel…I know.”

Kristen slammed her spoon in her own soup.

The boy flinched and his breath caught in his throat for a single moment as he quickly looked to the ground submissively. Mom didn’t like eye contact for lectures. Maybe it was because he cried during each one pathetically.

“But you don’t know Wilbur.”

The brunet barely bit back a wince and just kept his head low as tears filled and spilled from his eyes.

“You tell me you know all these things and you tell me you’ll prove to me you are able to handle yourself. You’ve promised to ensure I ge-we get back at that cruel and disgraceful king.”

“Yes Kristen.” He spoke up finally though his voice was on the verge of cracking as it was most times mom lectured him about how he needed to be faster or he’d fail, how he needed to parry and strike smoother or else he never stood a shot at beating a king-

He was a failure though. He couldn’t even defeat his own mother for primes sake. How was he to prove his mothers name proud? To show that he could do something that would make her happy instead of disappointing her?

“Good. Now-“

Wilbur cut in. “I’ll clean the dishes and then make sure to keep guard tonight.” He kept his eyes low. Mom always liked when he kept his eyes low. Said it would hide his intentions from others.

“Oh.” She sounded pleasantly surprised. He heard the creak and sound of wood being shoved back before she walked over to him and planted a kiss on his head. “Alright well I’ll see you in the morning then dear.”

He nodded, concealing the momentary burst of warmth that spread through him as he scooped up his bowl and cup before gathering his mothers up in his hands.

He placed them into the basin before roughly scrubbing at the insides of them, watching the slurry dissipate into the water.

He took them out and shook them off to get them dried before setting them on a rag so they could drip dry. He glanced over his shoulder at the door and he grasped the glass in his hand a bit tighter.

The moonlight that shone through the entrance glimmered its pale cold ray. The lingering autumn leaves littered the ground as footsteps marched toward it.

Wilbur paused by the doorway and looked off towards where his mother rested. He fidgeted and for a moment his body pulled away from the outside.

But that allure of luxury…that temptation of a life his mother and him hadn’t had before….

He held his resolve and bounded out of the house, grabbing his sword on the way out.

His bounding footfalls echoed throughout the moonlit forest, the birds all silent aside the owls who crooned to their young.

The leaves below his feet crinkled with each step as he continued his race through the woods. He didn’t care if it took a night or a day or a week or a year-

He was going to be at the palace to kill the king no matter what.

The cries of wolves pierced the night as he shoved aside anything that got in his way. He was on a mission-he wouldn’t be slowed by shrubs and branches and roots that curled around the bases of each tree he passed.

Each step, no matter how tired he was, brought him closer to his destiny. To a fate that would bring his family peace and joy.

He leapt over a fallen log, his boots crashing to the forest floor. Shadows curled up and around where he had landed before dissipating. The sword in his hand was heavy but he wouldn’t slow.

Slowing would be weak. He was no longer going to be a weak fool. The thought put a smile onto his face as he kept a steady pace.

As he went further though, the woods gradually began to thicken-their trees growing larger and more challenging to navigate through. The roots and shrubs growing into more of an issue.

Suddenly he was slowing down to avoid each obstacle, trying desperately to get over the annoyingly large plants. The animals of the forest had began to quiet substantially and he was beginning to worry.

He came across another log and groaned, throwing his head back into the night before sighing. Who knew this was so fucking hard? He’d have mom teach him how to do these things when they had a castle.

He shoved his sword into its sheath and began to clamber over the wooden obstacle, his legs and arms straining to pull and push him over it. He favored to roll over the side to make his life easier.

Big mistake.

He let out a shout as he tumbled over the side and began to roll down a hill, curling up to protect his head as his body hit branches, nettles, rocks and all leaves as he plummeted down to gods knew where.

He yelped as he crashed into something which made a garbled noise before the noise went away and Wilbur was left…

He opened his eyes and glanced around cautiously before letting out a gasp which he quickly covered.

He was left in the palace gardens.

He got up and dusted himself off as fast as he could, making sure he was free of any clinging dirt before he unsheathed his sword. He’d find the king and be done with it.

He began to traverse the garden, taking a stealth approach to avoid being seen by anyone.

Although there wasn’t really…anyone around. That was perplexing. Still-he’d take it.

He crept around bushes, corners, small trees-anything that kept him hidden as he listened out for voices.

He really didn’t want to wait till morning-he’d for sure get caught and executed and if that didn’t happen and he got sent home he’d be executed by his mom…

He really didn’t know which was worse.

He reasoned his mom.

He kept going as he looked about, his eyes wild as he went from any subtle movement in the area before he heard a faint yet audible sigh and he froze. He listened again, this time much closer as he approached.

He peered through a bush and had to stifle his gasp as his eyes grew wide at the sight of the king.

King Philza.

The guy looked…really weak….

That thought prompted him to narrow his eyes as he looked at him in curiosity. He could just…go up from behind and stab him.

He chewed on his cheek. That was dishonorable though. Everyone deserved a fighting chance-even if they were a shitty guy who left him and his mom out in the cold.

So he stood up from his place in the plants and gripped his sword tight as he could before stepping out. He puffed up his chest and took a deep breath.

“Enjoying the night King Philza?

The king's body jolted, having clearly not expected anyone to be around-much less Wilbur.

Good. Maybe the old man would have a heart attack before they had to duel-

“I uh-I suppose-” The blond turned around, a nervous smile clear on his face. His eyes looked kind and fatherly. He looked like he would barely hurt a fly.

His heart grew bitter and pained. He hurt his mom and him. He may look like a good father but he had screwed his mother and him out of a life of royalty.

That crime was unacceptable.

“Tell me old man-do you know who I am?”

King Philza stood tall and he shook his head. “I don’t believe I do. Although-if my assessment is correct-” The king chuckled, still smiling and looking too okay to be seeing a stranger with a sword in his garden.

“I’d assume you’re here to assassinate me right? Dual for my throne? To burn my palace to the ground and kill all?”

Well that had been unexpected. “I uhm-” Wilbur’s grip on his blade loosened, the blade tipping to the dirt.

The King laughed again. He laughed again as if his assasination. His death would be funny.

“Mate you’re like-fifteen?” The voice wasn’t patronizing as he had expected. It was sad and kind. “A fifteen year old shouldn’t be trying to kill-you shouldn’t even need to kill. Put the sword down and we can talk ok?”

That offer was tempting. Wilbur felt himself drawn to the king. He was everything Wilbur wanted from his mother and everything he had dreamed about for a father.

But…But this man had-he had taken what his mother was owed…he was made to finish this for his mother.

His grip on his sword hilt tightened again and he grit his teeth.

“No. You took my mothers rightful throne. And for that?”

He glared at him before charging him.

“You’ll burn in hell!”

Wilbur lept at him, his sword arching above his head as he swung it toward the wide eyed king.

His target artfully evaded before drawing his own blade.

Metal clashed on metal as Wilbur was taken aback by the sheer strength of the seemingly old king.

He pushed back against the ornate blade as hard as he could before he stumbled back. The man took another swing at Wilbur and he yelped, just barely ducking in enough time to avoid his head being chopped clean off.

King Philza didn’t slow though as he kept up his relentless and brutal attack until Wilbur and backed himself into a corner.

A tree at his back and a King who was far more experienced than he was.

He wished he could give in. From the falling and running earlier to now he was thoroughly exhausted and if he had to do anymore of this he may flat out pass out…

But he kept going because then his mothers training would have been for nothing.

He slashed desperately at the king’s side and he felt a brief joy in his heart as he heard a cry of pain from his enemy.

That was short lived as a cold blade plunged straight into his heart, his eye’s shooting wide as he stared at the king, his body going limp.

He stumbled to the ground until he was laid out on his back, the leaves under him splattering with blood as he coughed it up.

His eyes began to blur with tears and the inky black of unconsciousness. Crouching above him was King Philza and he felt the king shift his body up a bit. He looked sad. Guilty. Distantly, Wilbur wondered how his life would have been if he was his father.

He reasoned he’d be happy. King Philza would be a good dad.

His body began to feel too heavy and numb and before long he felt his eyes droop and suddenly he was gone.

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Philza looked at the deceased boy in his arms, running a hand through his unkempt hair with sad, tearful eyes. There was no doubt he was Kristen’s boy. No doubt in his mind in the slightest.

He sighed as he gently set him down against the tree and removed his sword. He re-sheathed it and closed his eyes tight, mumbling a prayer to the gods before reopening them. “Rest well child…I’m sorry…”

There was no response but a part of him had hoped that maybe he could be a god. A god who could revive those lost at his hands. He wished he could change that.

It wasn’t a proud moment to attack the child but he wanted to protect himself. He had to. For the sake of his child. He had taken him in and gods knew he wouldn’t let the baby lose a parent again. Especially one that actually wanted him.

He glanced to his bloodied side. Thank gods the kid hadn’t fucked him up to bad. He pressed a hand against it and hissed out in pain before keeping the pressure. He needed to get this settled before an infection.

He turned his back to the body before heading back into the palace. He had a busy day ahead.

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The shadows rose up from the ground, dripping up as they growled and grumbled as they snuck toward the body. The shadow grew into a large beast and gently grabbed the child into gentle claws that oozed the black of night before another hand came up.

In it laid a flower crown that was gently placed around the child's head before both disappeared back to the earth.

The only thing that remained was the bloodied sword.

#mcyt g/t #smog writes #tiny!wilbur #tiny!phil #giant!techno #???!kristen #LoHS au #Lullaby of Hell's Shadow

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yami-yomiel · 2 years

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Oh god jesus on my god oh my goodness gracious

[this is tagged as fnf g/t as these versions of the characters are.. from that mod]

#G/t #giant/tiny #doodles #Traditional art #lineless #?#Outline art #That’s the best way i can describe my style #Glitchy red #strangled red #monochrome pokepasta #I don’t know his name other than that it’s Blake/gold/ethan #Gore warning #pokepasta #fnf g/t #Lullaby mod #cherryflavoredart

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boydykedevo · 1 year

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not joking about the into the woods kick btw... lowkey wanna draw somethin but there's. no Fandom fandom for it lol.

#not that it matters but. yknow.#jack my beloved <33 #giants in the sky will always be the best song cuz my dad used to sing it to me as a lullaby #that and no more #icarus is talking

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shokuto · 2 years

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This is a cool cover and I wish this was also its own character. Like an Ultron drone that gains sentience and wants to escape its programming so it models itself after Spider-Man, who's always off swinging in and out of trouble as he pleases. He was built to dominate the earth but he just wants to be a little guy like Miles. Miles' lil robro

#And then it's destroyed Iron Giant style #While The Weeknd's Final Lullaby plays #But it's ai generated so it sounds like the robot is singing it #spiderman #miles morales

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cheshire-creeper · 1 year

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One of Ashiok’s theme songs is Sleep by MCR and the other one is Lullaby to Nightmares by They Might Be Giants. They also has Bang the Doldrums by Fall Out Boy in their playlist. Do you get it

#mtg #magic the gathering #they might be giants #tmbg #lullaby to nightmares #ashiok #bang the doldrums #fall out boy #fob #sleep #mcr #my chemical romance

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screechthemighty · 1 year

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God of War fic posting time! Ignore what time it is, shh, don't worry about it. AO3 link will be in a reblog, full chapter below!

rose colored boy: part three

There were rumors that Thor had been spotted in the area, which meant a lot more people in the Mountain than usual. Faye would have gone to see for herself, but two things stopped her. One: she had promised she wasn’t going to try and fight Thor, and she was self-aware enough to know she might break that promise if she saw the bastard.

Tow: the mountain’s volunteer guards wouldn’t let her leave anyway. They didn’t try to restrain her, but their quiet pleas were enough to guilt her into staying.

Please. We can’t afford to lose anyone else. We don’t want to make things worse.

So Faye stayed. She tried not to think about things too hard, though it was difficult. Her mind kept racing to the fact that he was just…out there. Maybe he was hurting someone else. Had anyone warned the settlements just out of reach? They must have tried, right?

Stop it. What do you think you’re going to do, Faye? Fight the god of thunder with just your bow? It would be stupid and she knew it.

That awareness didn’t soothe her restless energy. She couldn’t focus long enough to draw or tend to her weapons, so she went for a walk, hoping the movement would calm her down.

She was deep in the Mountain when she heard the music.

Something about the tunnels made the already mournful tune even more so. Faye was transfixed, despite the ache the sound created in her chest. She followed it to the source: a little stage carved into the stone, with people seated on the floor in front of it in close huddles. Amund was playing while a different giant sang in a deep, soothing voice.

Jötnarnir miklu og máttku…

She had heard the song a few times before. It had always been so solemn for a lullabye, but she couldn’t make herself move away. Faye sat down on the edge of the crowd and closed her eyes.

Hraktir í útlegð hreimn…

It was the first thing she’d been able to focus on that wasn’t her racing thoughts. The stage was well-placed, enhancing the sound of the music. The audience was completely silent as they listened. It felt like everyone had come here not to think, to just follow the feeling of the music and feel some peace.

It was working.

Jötnar ei guðir né dauðlegir…

And it was that togetherness that really helped. It reminded her why she’d come here. For her people. So that they could be safe, sing their songs in their halls, be together. The circumstances weren’t perfect, but this was how it should be.

Til fjall í Jötunheim…

It was almost a kind of rebellion, really.

The two men on the stage kept performing, song after song. Faye lost track of time; she only realized that it must have been late when they stopped performing. The crowds started leaving, but Faye lingered, hoping to speak to Amund. He caught sight of her as he gathered up his instrument, grinned, and waved. Faye waved back.

“I didn’t realize you were here,” he said as he walked closer.

“I didn’t realize you were here,” Faye said. “I didn’t even know this place was here at all.”

“Oh, it’s a little out of the way, I know. And we can’t perform all the time, there’s…” He gestured down one tunnel. “...still a lot of digging that way, people coming and going with carts and stuff. But we play when we can. It’s really…” He looked around. “I don’t know. There’s just something special about here.”

Faye nodded in agreement. “How often is when we can?” she asked.

“Why, thinking of coming back?”

She nodded again, and she meant it. If coming out here meant she could relax…it would be good for her, she thought. “I’d love to hear you perform. You’re really good. And your friend, too.”

Amund looked taken aback, then flattered. “I’m…glad to hear that. Uhm, I can…try to let you know if I see you around? It’s usually once a week.”

“I’d love that. Thank you.” She glanced at the other giant and waved. He waved back, though she got the distinct feeling he was trying not to eavesdrop. “Well, I won’t keep you…”

She thought he was going to protest, but he only said his goodnights and watched her walk away.

Funny thing was, she didn’t think she would have needed much convincing to keep talking.

She went to as many of his performances as she could after that night. It was something to look forward to beyond the hardships of her day to day, a distraction from her fears and worries that actually worked. She found the perfect place to sit, towards the edge of the crowd, where the music seemed to hit her ears just right, closed her eyes, and listened.

It was a blessing to have that kind of calm. To have someplace where she could relax. There was so much happening outside of the mountain, more threats that she’d ever realized while she was living in Jötunheim. But here?

Everything was fine.

She and Amund talked after most performances, unless she was so tired that she had to leave early. He was interesting. Even as they talked more, he never turned into that stereotype of musicians that Ruvik had always warned her about. He wasn’t overconfident (not self-sabotaging, either, which she appreciated), but he was funny. And he was willing to put up with her when she started rambling, which was more than she could say for a lot of people. Sometimes his fellow performers watched their interactions with interest. It took her a few conversations to start thinking anything of it. At first she wondered if they’d heard of her, but when she thought about it a little longer…

They think something’s happening here. Or might happen.

She remembered how Amund had looked at her that day in the cave. He hadn’t quite looked at her that way since, but he was also excited to see her. He was never forceful about anything…perhaps he only wanted a friend, but also thought she was beautiful. That…could happen, right?

Damn it, she wasn’t sure. Most of the time, when men opened with a compliment, they only had courtship on their mind and either gave up when she wasn’t interested or kept pursuing until she had to get forceful. Any of her male friends or acquaintances had never expressed any interest or observations on her beauty. (More often than not, they were saying that about Guðrún instead, which was both understandable and entirely fine with Faye.)

But here she was in this situation. Dancing around things with a man who, she had to admit…was handsome. He looked almost noble when he performed, serene, like images on a shrine dedicated to some ancient poet. She couldn’t help smiling when he smiled. He had an easy laugh.

…damn it. Damn it. Did she have time for this?

She wasn’t sure. But the question didn’t stop her from coming back.

The worst days, strangely, were the days when she didn’t do any fighting at all. When it was too risky to fight. When she had to get as many people out as quickly as possible and without being detected. Where doing the slightest thing wrong could lead to death, for her and many others. They crept through the woods like wounded animals, trying to escape stalking prey.

She hated it. She hated it more than any fight. She would have gladly chosen to go against the Allfather himself if it meant not having to slink through the woods, praying that the distant storm was only a storm. It took her longer than normal to calm down on those days. She’d sit in the darkest and quietest corner she could find back in the Mountain until she stopped shaking.

That wasn’t working tonight. Her body still felt like it was going to fall apart. Her mind raced. She wondered if she had done something wrong, if she had lead Asgard right to them.

But they know where we are already, don’t they? There’s no way they don’t. They could come to kill us at any time. Why hasn’t he? What’s taking him so long? Why doesn’t he just…

Faye slapped her own face as hard as possible. The sting brought her out of her thoughts, just for a moment. Long enough for her to get up and start walking.

I need to do something.

She knew she should probably tend to her armor and weapons, but she kept walking. She knew subconsciously where her feet were taking her before her mind really caught up. The sound of the tagelharpa only confirmed it.

Amund was performing.

There was a fairly large crowd. Faye recognized a lot of the faces: they were all people she’d saved today. She avoided their gazes and sat back in her isolated little corner. Eventually, she ended up lying down. The solid feeling of the floor against her back helped ground her.

She didn’t like that it wasn’t working as well today. But that didn’t make her want to get up, either. Being upright wasn’t a good alternative.

Faye closed her eyes. She could’ve sworn she felt the low bass of the instruments and the vocals humming through the floor, as if the Mountain were singing with them. Some dwarves and sculptors claimed that the rocks did speak or sing to them. Guided their tools. Showed them what to do.

Maybe they were onto something.

The performance didn’t seem to last long enough. The feeling of music was replaced by the feeling of footsteps. Faye wasn’t in any danger–her corner was just out of the way that she wasn’t at risk of being stepped on, secluded enough that no one stopped to ask if she was okay. Honestly , she probably could have fallen asleep there and not been found by anyone. She even considered it. Moving was too hard by far.

“Are you okay?” asked a voice above her.

Faye cracked an eye open. Amund was standing not too far away, his instrument held carefully in his arms. “Tired,” Faye admitted.

“Oh. Do you mind if I sit?”

“Only if you don’t mind that I’m not great company tonight.”

Amund sat down about an arm’s length away, apparently undeterred by how dull her voice sounded. He held the instrument as if he might start plucking its strings, but it stayed silent. “Another long day?” he guessed.

You have no idea. “The longest. I was looking forward to resting, but…” She shrugged. “...not in my stars tonight, I guess.”

“I’m sorry. Not…in an it’s my fault way. You have my sympathies way.” Amund’s free hand traced over the strings. “Have you thought about finding someone to help you? I mean, it's not that I think you’re incapable, it’s just…”

He hesitated. The silence stretched on long enough that Fate felt the urge to fill it (though, to be fair, that didn’t take long with her). “Are you volunteering?” she guessed.

“Oh, no, I’d just slow you down,” Amund said, his tone strangely self-deprecating. “But…I mean, if you needed…” He took a deep breath. “You do so much for everyone. Someone should help you too, Laufey.”

The earnestness in his voice caught her off guard. She’d heard similar words before since coming to the Mountain, but it felt different this time. The fluttering feeling, like a bird in her ribcage, was certainly new.

“You can call me Faye, you know,” Faye said suddenly. It was the only thing she could think to say, the closest she could come to articulating that feeling.

It didn’t feel like enough, but it was all she could manage.

Amund smiled as if she’d given him something precious. “Faye,” he corrected gently. “I hope I wasn’t too forward. I just…want you to be all right.”

“No, it’s…I understand.” She couldn’t keep looking him right in the eyes. “Thank you for thinking of me, Amund.”

The bird struggled harder against her ribs.

Faye didn’t think she’d be able to keep it contained much longer.

#song from the fic is ''lullaby of the giants'' from the soundtrack btw it's my favorite #god of war #god of war laufey #fic: rose colored boy

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