Mirrah



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  1. Public Bookmark 70

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    Softly, you admitted, "It reminds me of us, a little. Sometimes I wonder if our meeting was fate. If it was written in red, somewhere in the stars."

    "Red," I repeated. "Like astrophage."

    If our meeting was truly written in the red of astrophage, then it would mean that the stars started dying for us—that the entire galaxy mourned for them by singing a dirge, and it was loud enough to be heard in the vast silence of the Big Nothing.

    Perhaps the universe was torn in two a long time ago and is trying to pull the broken halves back together. For everything comes from stardust, from planets and moons to humans and Eridians. For across trillions of miles' worth of space and billions of years' worth of time, we existed at just the right parameters to have met each other. Then, perhaps the universe made me to love you, and perhaps the universe made you to be loved.

    Perhaps that is what you call fate.

    Or: Grace confesses his love. Rocky struggles to do the same, though not for the reasons you might think.

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    22 Jul 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Loki's been at the hands of many masters over his long life, but Anthony Stark is the best one without a doubt.

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    22 Jul 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 60

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    20 Jul 2026

  4. Public Bookmark 49

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    There is a single message from an unknown number, sent around 10 AM, when Grace was arms deep in Astrophage.

    +1 214 505 7732
    3/18/2026, 10:05 AM

    Unknown

    wanna tell me my proteins should all be misfolded again 😋?

    Grace chokes on his sandwich. He spends a good minute trying to breathe again, coughing up the piece of it that went down the wrong way while Stratt stares at him with an eyebrow quirked.

     

    ---

    Grace doesn't need more friends. He doesn't need more responsibilities. He certainly doesn't need for Tom Ryder to keep trying to make Grace have sex with him by flirting through texts.

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    19 Jul 2026

  5. Public Bookmark 83

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    “Call me?”, he repeated to himself. “What does that..”, he mumbled before cutting himself off. He’d properly opened the sticky note to see what it said, that which ended up being Ryder’s phone number accompanied by some silly doodles of hearts and something that seemed pretty hastily written. ‘It waz nice talkin to u pretty boy, call me!’

    What.

    When had Ryder even made this?! Surely this must truly be a fever dream because there is no way that Tom Ryder just gave him his number. Why would he do that?! He doubted the guy was in need of friends… Ryland stared at the sticky note again, reading it a few more times before he brought his hand up and gave himself a slight slap on his cheek.

    Nope, not a dream.

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    19 Jul 2026