#hdm fic

[tragicotps]

Young Asriel x Marisa > Based on the fic Trials (and errors) by @freuleinanna

[Exiled from the public's eye, young Marisa Coulter is preparing to go and stand trial for adultery. On the other side of Oxford, young lord Asriel Belacqua is preparing to go and stand trial for murder.

A lot has been said about how 'as soon as they met, they fell in love'. That is exactly what made the rest of it so hard.]

[freuleinanna]

Mama loves you.

Marisa - harder than most mothers, it's safe to say - often heard the words spoken with unbearable softness. Not in her family, but the words danced in the streets, touching her ears like a melody. Mama loves you. Everything's alright, child. Mama loves you.

She remembers wanting to say the magic words more than anything in the world. The golden daemon never blinked, never moved, just sat beside her. Mesmerized, he never, not even for a moment, looked away from little Lyra and her soul companion as though if he did, they might have disappeared. As though his eyes were the only thing keeping them in existance. He knew then, Marisa thinks. He knew she wouldn't say it. She wouldn't dare.

She remembers words dissolving quicker than a thin layer of ice on a tongue. She remembers being hopelessly, cruelly mute.

Some things should live in minds only, is appears. In beautiful what-ifs, and never on the lips. They give the vow of silence, and Marisa's soul never utters another words as if none would be good enough. Fine, she decides. Silence it is.

Until.

Until.

Twelve years pass before Marisa sees her child. She is armed to the teeth, oozing danger with a metal-scented touch, stunning in a way nobody dares to confront, fully prepared - and the girl, the girl wears raggedy clothes and hardly knows what soap is. She bites nails. She stuffs food in her mouth. She's got a scar on her forehead and exactly three random, unevenly placed moles on her left cheek. That little monster attacks Marisa's heart like a bloodthirsty Tartar. She's got hugs instead of rifles. Marisa would have preferred the rifles. Blades. Anything. Lyra is running about with a string tied around her mother's throat. She's a wind-borne kite. Every time the girl throughtlessly gets too far, Marisa feels her lungs being yanked out of the chest.

Words return. Words seize her, rattle through her to the point where she cannot bear silence any longer, and the only thing stopping Marisa from saying them is not having enough breath. That, and the impossible task of saying words you never learned to say.

So she finds other words.

Blue is quite your color.

Mama loves you.

I think you can be extraordinary.

Mama loves you.

I'm only trying to protect you.

It starts spilling in every conversation. It's everything she's able to say after twelve years of silence. My place is with her. I want her with everything I have. If you find her, please keep her safe.

Mama loves you, loves you.

Lyra grows up having never, ever heard those words.

Her mother is hopelessly, cruelly late for saying them. It doesn't stop her from living them till the last breath.

[flowerpotmage]

mist & rue

It is night in a new world, and you've lost a dear friend.

notes & etc: reader, lee scoresby, and john parry. oneshot. HDM series. canon compliant with events of book 2. ambiguous relationships. angst!! more writer commentary at the end. 584 words. on Ao3 here

It’s unreasonable to have expected your choices to take you down any other path than this. You were always going to find yourself here.

Mist touches your skin, permeating through the relatively thin layers of your clothing and down through to your bones. You’d like to say that the cold air numbs your distress, shocks you enough to calm down and jolt out of it, but… truthfully, it has little effect on why you’re here, crying and swallowing shaky gulps of air with your arms around yourself and a silver turquoise ring in your fist. You don’t notice the osprey dæmon that soars overhead.

The soft sound of familiar footsteps draws another shuddering breath into your lungs, your hand wiping shaky and surreptitiously—you hope—at your cooling tears. You want to greet him, as you normally would, but you know your voice would betray you. Although, if he’s here right now, he already knows, and you’re taking much too long to say anything anyhow, and he’d be an idiot not to know anyway—

He comes to a stop near your shoulder.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he says in that smooth, enigmatically charming voice of his. “Sayan saw you, and I thought you might appreciate an ear.”

Your dry chuckle is exceptionally soggy, and you take a deep breath to steady yourself, breathing it out through your lips with closed eyes.

“Jopari,” you greet, looking out at the foreign stars. “It has been an exceptionally trying time. I don’t think I was ready.”

“Ah,” he says, and you can hear the rueful smile in the sound. “I don’t think most of us are.”

You turn to look at him over your shoulder. “John.”

You’ve come to know him well over these last years. Sayan can journey far, that’s true, but even a shaman with a witches dæmon is reluctant to part too far with their own very self, and shamans and witches alike need unassuming individuals to be their knowing eyes and hands in far off lands. None of you would never have gotten this far otherwise. So you understand immediately.

“You knew Lee would…” your throat closes up on the words.

“I did. I'm sorry.”

The tears come fresh, the heat of the saltwater on your face due to more than mere thermodynamics. It’s as if the anger at the man by your side is finding the only escape it can, through the water of your eyes, leaving room for growing dismay.

“Come back to the camp,” he says, nothing but gentle. “You’ll catch cold and we’ve a ways to go yet.”

You turn away again, looking down at the small furry body of your dæmon by your boot.

“Ah, so I will be continuing on further?” You regret the spiteful comment as soon as it leaves your mouth.

“This is not the world you’ll stop in,” John Parry says, cryptic as ever.

You turn to face him, the stones making their small sounds underfoot. He looks at you, sharp eyes apologetic. “I know you were close with Mr. Scoresby,” he says. “If there had been another way—”

“Then we wouldn’t win, in the end, would we?”

One side of his mouth lifts, once again rueful.

You sigh, and nod. The two of you walk back to your small, humble camp, and John, Jopari, Stanislaus Grumman and all his names, sits with you in silence by the fire. Before you know it, he will be dead, and you will be left behind to tell his son about him.

---------------------------------

i have sooo much fun facts about this reader in my head all of a sudden. in my mind they were a little bit in love with lee (a longtime friend) and john (platonically? romantically? we'll never know about either of these for either fella and neither will they bc theyre kinda messed up about it all!!) and they work with john and the witches towards asriel's big plan to Kill God. yippee!!

[three-atoms]

In Watercolours (HDM Masriel Fanfic)

Chapter 3: Heresy (E, 9900 words)

Consequences ensue, and it's make or break

Read on AO3

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

Fandom: His Dark Materials

Title: You're On My Heart Just Like a Tattoo

Pairings/Relationships: Will Parry/Lyra Silvertongue

Summary:

On his eighteenth birthday, Will gets his one true love's name tattooed over his heart.

Hello, loves! This idea wouldn't leave me alone, so there you have it. Title taken from the song "Tattoo" by Jordin Sparks, this fic actually came to me while listening to it. Enjoy!

@nooowestayandgetcaught @jillcfan @therepublicofeden @kirjavasblade @ambeauty

[everythingsketch]

@plainlo-inthemorning I am no psychic but I think he will never be satisfied

[tossawary]

Every time I see or otherwise imagine a Daemon AU (a story borrowing the concept of "physical soul animals" from the "His Dark Materials" book series), I get distracted thinking about aaaaall the logistical issues and cultural changes that would happen if the world was different in this way. Especially if it's a story that's set in the modern day!

Mostly, I'm distracted by cultural changes that are, uh, let's go with "silly". Like, I think people would put in cat doors and ramps for their daemons. I think people would put their turtle daemons on hot wheel cars and let their rat daemons drive miniature cars. I think some miserable people would be unreasonably outraged by "assistive devices" for daemons and call it unnatural. I think people would post online like, "I just watched my grandma's elderly dog daemon spend ten minutes trying to climb onto the couch." I think that there would be Tumblr polls asking: "Are daemons allowed on the furniture in your house?" And some people would be like, "Absolutely not, that's disgusting," and other people would be like, "Yes?! Of course?!?!?!"

I think some people would put their daemons in outfits. I think some people would wear MATCHING outfits with their daemons. I think there would be a huge market for daemon accessories like collars and scarves. I think you could find someone who would argue to their dying breath that putting a collar on your daemon is a form of abusing yourself. I think there would be daemons who would straight up hate wearing anything, especially the daemons of young children, and shed collars immediately. I think some people would get their daemon's ears pierced.

I think people would take photos of their daemons getting stuck in stupid places. I think people would take photos of their daemons making silly expressions. I think these photos would be used as memes. I think this would be included in the "don't take photos of strangers and post them online???" arguments. I think some people would try to get animals that are the same as their daemon forms so that their daemon could have a "friend". I think the exotic pet trade in this world would be horrible, especially in relation to modelling and acting industries, and that some people and their daemons would work as "substitute daemon actors".

I think that people would judge other people based on their daemons, sure. I also think that daemons are incorporated into things like astrology and matchmaking in ways that our world can't imagine. "Oh, I only date guys with dog daemons. Guys with cat daemons are too feminine," would be a constant sexist / homophobic sitcom joke and also a real thing people would say. There would be sex books written taking daemons into account and I'm not going to get into it more than that except to say...

The furry "discourse" that must exist in a Modern Daemon AU is operating on a level that we cannot possibly fathom.

Most of this stuff is not relevant for most Daemon AUs, but I feel like when doing any kind of cultural worldbuilding, we must face the fact that many people love and hate nothing more than to sincerely and insincerely get into extensive Twitter arguments over pointless bullshit. And also, on a lighter note, that "Draw yourself and your daemon!" would be a classic Day 1 of school activity for children. Confession blogs would have people saying, "My mom and aunt and grandma all have parrot daemons, so until I was four, I genuinely thought all women had bird daemons. When I met a woman with an iguana daemon in a grocery store, I asked her what kind of bird it was supposed to be. My mom has laughingly brought it up every few weeks for the past twenty years."

[idkaguyorsomething]

The Problem of Susan Fic Recs

For many reasons, The Last Battle is probably the most contentious addition to the Narnia canon. The standout, though, has to be the infamous Problem of Susan, wherein the Pevensie children are all killed in a train crash and brought to Narnia 2 Electric Boogaloo aka heaven, then declare that Susan is no longer a friend of Narnia because of her interest in “lipsticks and nylons”. Hardly any time is spent on this, but the implications have been the ground for a lot of argument and discussion. What exactly would happen to Susan, and should it have happened? Over the years, dozens of fic writers have thrown their hats in the ring and weighed in on the subject, making the Problem of Susan almost a prism for the fandom: everyone shines through it a bit differently, resulting in a wide spectrum. Here’s some of the highlights under the cut.

http://shedletsky.com/blog/the-god-who-loves-you

Starting with the fic that coined the term, written by Neil Gaiman himself, this fic is a reflection and deconstruction of the idea that Susan would be able to find Narnia again by delving into the trauma that the experience of losing all her family at once as well as the social injustices that a young woman of her time would’ve faced, something that the narrative of The Last Battle never really addresses. It took off for a reason, as it presents a lot of good food for thought, but it’s also got some pretty weird shit that can feel like it’s conflating adulthood with edginess. Well worth a read for all the points it raises, but if you’re fond of canon you probably won’t like the way it takes a hammer to it.

Now this one is exactly what you’d want to read if you wanted some feel-good time. This story is probably the closest to how C S Lewis would’ve written Susan’s return to Narnia, detailing her rediscovering all the things she put away as well as what led up to her rejecting Narnia in the first place. It falls more to the end of being almost uncritical of canon, with the focus on Susan basically having the same sort of religious rediscovery that C S Lewis himself had in his life. Because of how she was treated in canon, that can be pretty frustrating, but the ending feels nothing short of joyous.

Swinging back to the other end of the spectrum, this fic is very critical of the idea of The Last Battle being a pretty happy ending for everyone, unambiguously stating that life is always worth living for all the Pevensie kids. It explores what their lives could’ve been like if they didn’t die, being a rebuttal of C S Lewis’ themes rather than a continuation of them while feeling equally as happy as the fic directly above.

And this story feels like a midway point between the above two. It dives really deep into the emotional damage that Susan would’ve suffered before and after the train crash in some absolutely gorgeous prose, showing both her and Aslan with great sympathy while maintaining that what happened to her is not a punishment in any way. Bittersweet and very, very good.

Heading back towards the more critical end of the spectrum, this fic presents a Susan who is not interested in finding Narnia again, only her family. She is very much a character straight out of an ancient myth rather than a teen trying to make sense of a senseless situation here, filled with determination as much as desperation. It’s probably the closest fic on here to having something close to a plot as well as a character study, with the exception of The Queen’s Return and one other:

Being a crossover with what’s pretty much the antithesis of the Chronicles of Narnia, His Dark Materials, it’s probably easy for you to guess which side of the spectrum this story falls on. It’s more of a HDM story than a Narnia one, but the two worlds blend together surprisingly well, and it gives us a rare look into a Susan who’s lived decades of her life when the story picks up. She’s pretty much the Professor and it is fascinating, as is everything left to interpretation by this gem of a fic that is ambiguous yet deeply satisfying.

¡And here’s Susan as a Doctor Who companion! This isn’t directly a Narnia story so much as it is one about two people much older than they look mourning the loss of their worlds, with a Susan who is a queen wise beyond her years. Reading it is like taking an ice shower. It doesn’t hold back on the grief, and as a result it manages to feel honest as it reaches a warm ending.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/24311

Despite also being a crossover, this is in some ways the opposite of touch the sky with two arms. Susan is more of an everyday young woman than a queen, and [SLIGHT SPOILERS] Narnia itself does feature directly. But y’know, that’s part of what makes fandom so interesting. Not everyone is going to have the same take on everything, and the ending of this leans more happy than melancholy.

¿A shipping fic that’s also a crossover with Peter Pan that features neither Neverland or Narnia? Yes, this one probably has the least to do with Narnia or Aslan, but it tells a very compelling story about living life and growing up, something that isn’t perfect but can be good if you find someone you want to spend your life with. Susan Pevensie and Wendy Darling are a really good couple, pinky promise.

Technically more a series of ensemble oneshots, but Susan features very prominently in a lot of them, and they will make you feel every feeling that everything else on this list might’ve given you. Satisfaction, devastation, simple joy, just go give it a shot.

[x-i-l-verify]

Linked Universe Daemon AU Headcanons

WORLDBUILDING NOTE 1: The concept of daemons is borrowed from the His Dark Materials series. A daemon is a person’s soul manifested outside of their body in a tangible, physical form, which permanently settles into the form of the animal that most resembles them in character as the individual matures. Person and daemon are not separate beings, but two halves of one mental coin, which means that they each know everything the other does, thinks, and senses. Daemons are almost always the opposite gender of their person and have a distinct personality than the person to a certain degree, as person and daemon represent different aspects of the same whole. Touching someone’s daemon without their permission is taboo, considered a violation tantamount to rape in most cultures.

WORLDBUILDING NOTE 2: All Links have the same name for their daemon: Ellanharai (composed of the Old German elements ellan “courage” and heri “army”). However, because all the Links are their own person, their daemon’s form settles on something different with each incarnation. Just as the Links in the Chain go by different titles to differentiate them all, so, too, do their daemons. Links tend to settle early (12-13 years), as they generally know who they are and what they want from a young age.

WORLDBUILDING NOTE 3: The Dark World/Twili crystal magic combines someone and their daemon into one physical body. This new body has the form of the daemon but the gender of the person with size alterations or different markings/coloration and is controlled by the person, with the daemon part of their mind taking a backseat. For example, Legend is larger as a rabbit than his daemon usually is, and of course, her natural color is not bright pink. The lingering effects of this transformation only physically affect the person side of the person/daemon pair once they are returned to normal. 

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SKY + PSALM (RED-CROWNED CRANE)

Red-crowned cranes are renowned for their lasting and affectionate pair bonds, having come to represent longevity and devotion in many cultures; they are cooperative and low-aggression birds, quite tolerant and relaxed around other animals, and only really become territorial and protective over their nesting sites and chicks.

Psalm is impatient, mischievous, and fierce. Sky is more easygoing, considerate, and gentle.

Sky and Psalm are very outwardly affectionate with each other, and both can often be found napping together in a patch of sunlight, Psalm resting her head in Sky’s lap or draping a wing over him. As the physically tallest daemon of the bunch, Psalm delights in teasing fawning over her smaller daemon sisters, especially the younger ones. She will often sit on someone and happily brood, and while some may outwardly protest, everyone secretly enjoys it.

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FOUR + RHYME (ITALIAN HEBRAN HONEYBEE)

Four's daemon is an industrious, adaptable, cooperative, sociable species of honeybee, known for being assertive but not aggressive insects; they have a high threshold for what they consider threats, and will communicate using pheromones, body language, and vocalizations to make themselves as clearly understood as possible, but they will not hesitate to defend themselves if something is deemed a threat.

Four is empathetic, observant, passionate, and composed. Rhyme is the emotional, pragmatic, impulsive, competitive part of his personality.

Rhyme is usually kept in a protective case Four wears around his neck to prevent any harm from coming to her either in battle or out of it, due to her diminutive size, but he will happily let her out to stretch her wings when around people he trusts. While she is too small to outright cuddle with her sisters, Rhyme loves perching on their heads or burrowing into feathers or fur when it’s chilly, and she’s surprisingly expressive with her body language, though one might have to squint to see it.

When Four splits into his Colors, Rhyme also splits. Which means instead of one being in two bodies, they’re now one being in eight bodies. As in LU canon, none of the Colors is their own individual in this AU, merely a fraction of a larger whole. In turn, each iteration of Rhyme is an alternate part of each of the Colors, with Four’s soul fragmenting into smaller and smaller individual pieces the deeper you go down.

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TIME + MELODY (SPANISH FARON MASTIFF)

While menacing in appearance due to their sheer size and bulk, Spanish mastiffs are actually known for being protective, affectionate, quiet dogs, with a long history of guarding livestock; they are patient, easygoing, and surprisingly playful, good with children and tolerant of other animals, though their strong wills and stubbornness make them a challenge to handle for first-time dog owners.

Time is authoritative, jaded, and stoic, while Melody embodies his nurturing, hopeful, mischievous side.

Melody can often be found at Time’s side with one of his hands resting on her head or back. As the largest daemon in the group paired with the tallest person, they make for quite the intimidating pair and are downright deadly in battle together. Outside of battle, though, Melody becomes a big teddy bear, utterly content to let her daughters sisters use her as a pillow or mode of transportation, quietly communicating all the warm care and tenderness Time is sometimes too awkward to openly express. She is the one who introduced the musical motif the other Ellanharais also adopted when coming up with nicknames for themselves.

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TWILIGHT + ARIA (GRAY WOLF)

Twilight’s daemon is a social, cooperative, dedicated apex predator, who routinely work together to raise their young, defend their territories, and chase down their prey over vast distances; they are not overly aggressive and prefer to avoid conflict whenever they can, using body language, sent marking, and howling to diffuse tense situations and prevent costly fights between packs or individuals.

Twilight is focused, cautious, and opinionated. Aria is his easygoing, empathetic, people-pleasing side.

Aria instantly adopts most of the younger daemons in the group and dotes on them as much as they’ll allow. However, she turns into a big, besotted puppy whenever Time and Melody come into the picture and becomes adorably bashful around Malon’s pigeon daemon Rosamu. She is often found at Twilights right side, guarding his flank and watching his back while he focuses his attention on what’s in front of him. She also loves scritches and belly rubs and has nearly smothered Twilight more than once by sprawling on top of him too heavily while they sleep. While their initial transformation into Wolfie was traumatic and scarring at first, they have both grown to enjoy the occasional opportunity to truly travel, fight, and exist as one.

---

WILD + TRILL (WEDGE-TAILED EAGLE)

Wild’s daemon is a loyal, resourceful, resilient species of raptor that is often found alone or in monogamous pairs, but will freely cooperate together with groups of up to 15 other eagles to take down larger prey; they are straightforward and communicative with their vocalizations and displays and also surprisingly playful, wrestling or playing food games with each other.

Trill is Wild’s dutiful, reserved, focused side, while Wild is the impulsive, playful, lackadaisical side.

Trill is rather choosy with and to whom she shows open affection. She can be very standoffish, preferring to let Wild do the talking for both of them, but once she trusts someone, she will often become very chatty and physically affectionate. It is common to see her riding around or napping on Aria's back, but she has begun opening up more to the others as well.

Because Wild lost all his memories in the Shrine of Resurrection, Trill had become unsettled when they finally woke up, taking the most basic shape a daemon can take, normally only seen with very young children: a small, floating, glowing ball of golden Dust. As they regained their memories during Wild’s quest and discovered more about themselves, Trill began taking on some of their old favored forms before eventually resettling for good as her original settled form, the wedge-tailed eagle. Despite physically being the same, though, there’s still that distance between who they are now and who they used to be, most evident in how their personalities have seemed to switch; Wild used to be more serious, focused, and responsible, and Trill used to embody the impulsivity, rowdiness, and wanderlust he kept tightly tamped down for the sake of duty and appearances. Both of them are still coming to terms with how much they have changed.

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LEGEND + LYRIC (EUROPEAN HYLIAN RABBIT)

Legend's daemon settled as a hardy, wary, sociable, territorial species of rabbit, able to survive and thrive in almost any environment; they are a keystone prey species, a vital part of almost any ecosystem they find themselves in, who must stay ever vigilant and rely on their speed, wits, and determination to stay alive.

Legend is blunt, private, and practical, while Lyric is the sensitive, sociable, sentimental side of him.

Legend has… a complicated relationship with his daemon’s form. He initially hides her away from the rest of the Chain out of paranoia and insecurity, keeping her in his pack at all times. What would Hyrule they think of the renowned Hero of Legend having a defenseless, soft little rabbit as a daemon? They would lose all respect for him, or worse, be disappointed. It isn’t until after the Twili crystal incident, and Twilight and Sky find out about Lyric’s form, that he starts to come out of his shell.

After the ice has been broken, Lyric leaps at the chance to interact with the other deamons more. She goads Aria or even Melody into games of chase, can finally properly pounce on Warriors’ daemon the next time she teases her, curls up into a little fuzzy ball with Hyrule’s daemon to nap, leaps up on Trill or Psalm or Wind’s daemon’s backs and coax them into giving her a ride, and holds Rhyme in her little paws to gloat that she finally knows a daemon smaller than her (Rhyme is not amused). She is the one who came up with the name for their group of daemons, which is a chorus, just like a group of Links is a chain.

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HYRULE + CADENCE (YELLOW-BELLIED GLIDER)

Hyrule’s daemon is a small, nocturnal glider species that is selectively social, close-bonding, and expressive, utilizing a number of chirps, whirrs, whistles, and growls to keep away intruders and keep tabs on each other; yellow-bellied gliders are incredibly active, hard-working creatures, spending up to 90% of their time awake foraging, and they can travel up to 2 kilometers in just 4 hours through a combination of climbing and gliding.

Hyrule is independent, wary, and agreeable. Cadence represents his dependent, connected, feisty side.

Cadence is generally quite a skittish daemon, who can normally be found clinging wide-eyed to Hyrule’s back, shoulders, chest, or arms, or hidden inside his tunic or pack. She has not interacted closely with many other daemons in her time (fairies do not have daemons), so she is still getting used to the physical affection the others offer. She does not dislike it; it is simply a lot. But she is gradually learning to love being nuzzled, cuddled, and carried, and she greatly enjoys riding around on the other larger daemons.

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WIND + SHANTY (MILITARY MACAW)

Wind settled just a couple months before the events of Linked Universe as a resourceful, gregarious, deeply loyal species of macaw; like all macaws, they can be quite loud, communicative, and expressive, and they have generally been described as having friendly, confident, playful dispositions, albeit with the occasional temperamental mood swing.

Shanty is Wind's meticulous, perceptive, down-to-earth side, while Wind is reckless, curious, and carefree.

As is befitting for a parrot daemon, Shanty spends much of her time perched on Wind’s shoulders or arms, though she does love being held and cuddled, too. She is still getting used to her settled form, and sometimes forgets she cannot shift like she once did, leading to some hilarious mishaps when she faceplanted on the ground trying to turn into a hermit crab, or one memorable instance where she nearly drowned while trying to become a yellowtail snapper. She gets very starry-eyed over the other demons and thinks all of them are the coolest for different reasons. She desperately wants to impress them and prove she’s just as badass as they are, so she can sometimes chafe under their well-meaning coddling.

---

WARRIORS + BALLAD (RED FOX)

Warriors’ daemon settled as the confident, dependable, independent red fox, the most widespread and successful carnivore in the world, found in just about every available habitat, from jungle to tundra; despite being mainly solitary, these animals have a complex social hierarchy and can be seen in a wide variety of group settings, with vixens sometimes coming together during the breeding season to help raise each other’s cubs, and their mates bringing them food and also helping parent the new cubs.

Warriors is shrewd, charming, and diplomatic, while Ballad is more brash, cheeky, and candid.

Ballad, while generally friendly and warm with the other daemons (especially the younger ones), is also strangely skittish around them. She is fine initiating touch or curling up for a nice nap around or with someone else, but if touched unexpectedly, she tends to either bristle, growl, and retreat behind Warriors, or go very still and quiet. She shies away from any human hands except Warriors' (and even then there are days he doesn't touch her directly). They bring to mind other hands. Slim, small, elegant, painted hands that hurt, that took, that tainted- ...It’s fine. She’s fine. They’re fine. Everything’s fine.

---

Resources:

Red-crowned crane analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=24990

Italian honeybee analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=23882

Tibetan mastiff analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=24552

Spanish mastiff information: https://dogtime.com/dog-breeds/spanish-mastiff

Gray wolf analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=23828

Wedge tailed eagle analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=26686

European rabbit analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=23718

Yellow bellied glider analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=24968

Military macaw analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=26591

Red fox analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=24946

Art belongs to @/linkeduniverse

[runawaymarbles]

handbinding project: He Says He Is An Experimental Theologian, part 1 of @bicatperson's WTNV/HDM crossover.

This is a remake of one I did three years ago (lent it to a friend, he moved, making an entirely new book seemed like less work than coordinating with the friend of a friend he left it with.) The original typeset was a 6x9 so I had to readjust it to fit 5.5x8.5, and I also changed out the symbols so they'd print more easily. The new ones are a font made by the wonderful rosed from the Renegade Bindery discord.

Fun fact: the arrangement of the hands on the cover also correlates to specific alethiometer symbols because I got that in the weeds about it all.

This cover was a motherfucker and a half because heat transfer vinyl is out to ruin my life: on the original version, I applied the spine art it to the fabric before putting it on the cover, so that I could make sure it was centered. I then tried to use the same HTV to put the symbol on the cover, which did not work no matter how many times and how much heat I tried. (I realized later I'd forgotten to heat the cover first.) So then I tried to peel it up, and it didn't come all the way, so I took that cover off (hooray for wheat paste) and tried putting the vinyl on the fabric before I made the case. despite measuring multiple times, the circle ended up waaay off center. Possibly because I was trying to do this at 11pm. Eventually I just went to Joann's and bought adhesive vinyl, and only adhesive vinyl, even though there was a sale and all vinyl was 40% off. I ended up having to replace the beehive with the night vale eye, because the beehive symbol was a bunch of little lines the adhesive did nOT like, but I think the Night Vale eye looks better anyway.

[freuleinanna]

op i'm so sorry for intrudung but i just couldn't resist writing this, they're such chilDREN!! hope you don't mind 💛

The whole day, she says but a few words to him. He's victorious, and she congratulates him so dryly the sounds are crunching on her teeth. He's the youngest member of the Institute to man his own research mission to the greath North, and she behaves like he's going to what, London, for a can of shoe black? Honestly, that woman.

Marisa disappears entirely after all toasts are said, and although fellow colleagues are still clapping him on the shoulder and shaking his hand here and there, Asriel can't ignore the sting. He thought she'd be happy for him. Instead, all he gets from Marisa is the silent treatment and a whole lot of disinterest.

Wallowing in his wounded pride, Asriel is standing in a room full of people absently nodding to whatever someone is saying, and frowns at a glimpse of Marisa through the terrace door. She's walking away, to the gardens. Can't leave without her husband, but will stop at nothing to avoid him, it seems. None of his success matters as much as he thought it would when he imagined her reaction and support.

For goodness' sake, he's wearing a stupid tux just to impress her, and she couldn't care less.

When the event is closing to an end, Asriel almost leaves, thinking: that'll show her. A childish thought, really. Oh, you're avoiding me? I'll avoid you better.

Luckily, his soul is much better in reading subtle messages between unspoken lines.

'Aren't you forgetting something?' she comes to stand in his way as he makes for the main entrance. 'Someone?'

'We're going home, Stelmaria. Long journey ahead.'

'Asriel.' Just like that: Asriel. She has a habit of calling his name in a manner that feels at the same time patronizing, warning, and slightly done with him.

He tries to keep walking, but Stelmaria weaves herself around his legs and persists until Asriel almost falls. She even grumbles a bit, and gives him the gentlest cautionary bite on the hand, refusing to let him forward.

'Oh, what?!' he snaps, barely keeping his balance.

'Go talk to her.'

'She clearly doesn't want to be talked with.'

'Doesn't she?' the leopard tilts her head with such patience, it's almost like she's this wise ethereal being knowing all the secrets of the universe but never sharing any of them. That's another thing she does, looking at him like he's a cub or something, ignorant to the world and in need of being taught the basic rules.

'If she did want to talk,' Asriel grumbles moodily, 'she wouldn't have disappeared.'

'You're leaving in a few days.'

'Exactly! It might be the last chance...'

'Oh, you idiot!' Stelmaria growls and whisks her tail in irritation, surprising Asriel with an explosive emotion so unlike her. Then adds, quietly, with the utmost patience again, 'My idiot. She just learned we'll be leaving in a few days, no idea when to return. How do you think that makes her feel?'

'I– oh.'

His face changes with realization. Stelmaria nods.

'Oh, indeed. Go say goodbye like a decent person, because I'll bite your fingers off if you hurt that girl. She likes us,' the leopard glances over at the terrace door, a pensive expression on her face. 'Maybe even more.'

'More? What more?' he asks quickly, leaning forward.

'Do you really need me to spell it out for you?'

Already grinning, Asriel shakes his head and turns heel. A few more handshakes along the way, but now he pays even less attention. He listens impatiently, and taps shoulders saying he's gotta run, and all the way, he can't wipe a happy smile off his face.

He hurries down the terrace stairs and into the garden that flows, in its turn, into a natural pastoral scene. Hesitates to call Marisa by name for fear of attracting attention. Looks around. There are guests here, and the help, too, and then he sees a glimpse of Marisa's dress far ahead, near the lake, and rushes there (his rushing being a very spritely walk, but he can hardly restrain himself from running).

He's out of breath when he finds Marisa on the bench regarding the water, her daemon hunting for snails in the shallows.

'Is everything over?' she asks, nodding to the house where the celebration took place. Asriel didn't notice it before, but her eyebrows are tensed, and her eyes are much less indifferent than he thought them to be all day. They aren't indifferent at all, actually.

He can't keep a grin off his face realizing that his daemon was right.

'Yes, it's over,' he says and squints at Marisa against the sun washing them in golden light. 'Stelmaria made me come here to say goodbye to you before I leave.'

'Oh, she did?' Marisa draws a little back. 'Well, she's much less cruel than you.'

'Are you sad I'm leaving?'

In such a way Asriel asks this, that she can't be mad at him. A boyish triumph, an affection, pride – and damn if he isn't the most handsome Marisa has ever seen him. Her answer, however, is serious, because the matter is.

'Every fiber of me hates being here without you.'

Asriel contemplates her reply for a bit. Looks down – Stelmaria is pushing him, bumping her head at his leg in what seems like utter impatience. He grins at his daemon. Marisa is watching the silent exchange, feeling in her heart what this is leading to.

'I'll come back for you, you know,' Asriel finally says, because they are out in the open, in perfect view for anyone who looks, and he cannot risk saying I love you.

'I know,' she replies, for the exact same reason.

The sun keeps shining at them, and from the house, it looks merely as if they are talking, and the hero of the day is being courteous entertaining his guest. But then, from the house, you could never see the smiles of absolute happiness as the golden sunbeams get soaked in confessions that leave their silly, in-love mouths disguised as literally anything else and making their conversations really sound as constant, uninterrupted strings of I-love-you's.

Young Masriel au > in which Asriel is leaving for the north indefinitely and Stelmaria makes him say goodbye to Marisa before he goes.

[freuleinanna]

The monkey chatters sharply. Marisa glares. Hateful creatures, both of them, she thinks, like broken mirrors only capable of showing the worst parts. Their worst parts have grown wild in isolation, clashing all the time. Following an impulse, she holds his gaze, then sinks to her knees, leans forward – then, after a moment of consideration, growls. Her upper lip curls to show teeth. Vocal cords strain dangerously. A menacing grumble is rolling somewhere so deep in her throat she didn't know a sound like that could be produced. Her daemon drops to all fours and mirrors the note, prowling toward her. Golden fur on his neck bristles, he even paws at the ground a couple of times as if aiming for a blow. He wouldn't dare, and neither would she, but both feel rabid for wanting to. Snarling, they inch the distance between them and stare at each other, face to face – repulsive, repulsed, and ugly.

Marisa x daemon + exiled together, in wait of a trial after Edward's death.

[elodieunderglass]

I wish I had something intelligent to say but I really like His Delicious Materials. I’m waiting eagerly for the next chapter. Thank you for some truly excellent writing!

(In reference to the Dungeon Meshi Daemon-AU fanfic)

You are very very welcome, and don’t worry about saying anything in particular, it’s nice just to have readers for the weirdest fusion in the whole ao3 tag

[three-atoms]

In Watercolours (HDM/Masriel Fanfic)

Chapter 2: The Fall

The affair starts with an idyllic garden, a serpentine river, a desire for forbidden knowledge, sinful temptations, and a battle of wills

Read on AO3:

Prologue/Chapter 1: The River Cherwell

Chapter 2: The Fall (E, 10 700 words)

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

Fandom: His Dark Materials

Title: 'Cause We Survived The Great War

Pairings/Relationships: Lyra Silvertongue/Will Parry

Summary:

"Will."

Her voice. So small, so weak and yet the loudest sound around him. He hadn't heard her saying his name in so long he was almost afraid he'd forget how it sounds on her lips but the second it left her mouth, it brought the same sense of warmth into his bones it always did. Will never could find a proper name for that feeling, always struggled to identify it but now that she was here, finally with him after so many days apart, he knew what it was instantly.

It felt like coming home.

---

Post s03e02. After they escape Marisa's clutches and The Magisterium's bullets, Will and Lyra finally allow themselves to feel relief and reunite properly.

OOOH IT'S SO GOOD TO BE BACK!

Hi everyone! It's been almost two years since I've written anything for this fandom but His Dark Materials is back with the final season and out for our hearts and souls so I'm back too! Am I ready to suffer? No, not really. But I can't wait! AND MY BABIES LYRAWILL ARE BACK ON MY SCREEN! If that fact alone doesn't push you to write about them, then Idk what does.

Enjoy this sweet and emotional little piece. Just like riding a bike, writing it felt so natural to me.

For you, my HDM besties 😘

@nooowestayandgetcaught @jillcfan

[dreasdreams]

Lord Asriel x Marisa Coulter moodboard

"She and your father, they fell in love as soon's they met."