#his dark materials fic

[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!!

[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

[fern-stone]

More Will & Lyra art~ Originally was just a sketch but I coloured it to make it into a badge for myself hehe

[freuleinanna]

the lost heartbeats

golden ones so fiercely burning hearts regretting, falling, yearning Pairing: Marisa Coulter x Asriel Belacqua Short summary: A heartbeat tells a story, but when it skips, it writes a novel. Just a little something to recount the moments two people with the steadiest heartbeats felt their hearts fall (aka me sobbing over every parent moment ever). Pre-canon and canon Masriel. Word count: ~ 1600 I am not sorry, this is for my feral heretical parents & lovers 💔

~ 1 ~

It happens in the most unfascinating way possible, over dinner, when they find themselves sat across each other at the table. A young man hurries to his place, and something in the way he carries himself, pressing the all-too-new jacket to his chest while listening on the go, tells her he's used to being late to everything. He sits. He looks at her.

Her husband is by her right side and she feels the need to tug at his arm, and tug again, and quietly say 'Edward, take me away, please', then add 'I'll do something terrible if you don't'. In her mind, she does that. She goes to their room and doesn't give another thought to the young man with blue eyes so fierce as though he'd just stepped in from the cruel blizzard. In reality, her heart stops - at the faint, yet painful loss this prospect sets in her. She's somewhere between intrigued and instantly infatuated. She doesn't know his name. What foolishness.

He sits, and he forgets to listen. Someone very important is speaking about something very important, and he vaguely remembers that he'd put a lot of efforts into getting here. He wanted to listen. He forgets how to. The young woman in front of him is staring in a way people give you a side-glance just before taking their eyes off of you, yet she doesn't. Nor does he want her to. His chest is like a stone wrapped tightly in his ridiculous suit. Just for a moment, he can't breathe. Then it comes again, the familiar steady beats against the rib cage. He suddenly chokes at the free-fall emptiness preceeding them.

He doesn't fully realize where that skipped heartbeat went. It's lost somewhere between 'Edward Coulter's wife' and 'Marisa, my love', and he later finds that he had never truly reclaimed it. She stole it. He gave it away gladly. And then, again, later - when he tells a stupid joke to her husband and sees laughter in her eyes, and her dark hair shine with soft golden gleams like the fur of her monkey daemon.

He comes too late, as always, and she's already a Mrs. Neither of them stops at the obstacle.

~ 2 ~

Lyra is born, and she is everything like her father, and nothing like her mother's husband. Marisa will never admit that, but when she's holding her daughter in her sinful arms, prepared to reject her, she suddenly shudders at the thought. She falls, with a heart bursting out of the chest. It forgets to beat properly. Her daemon, exhausted just like her, looks at the child in helpless admiration.

 Asriel once told her that, should she want it, he'd fight for that child. He would rise and fight anything, anyone, with all his ferocity. There's always so much fight in him. She almost regrets refusing his offer.

Lyra is sleeping, while her mother, despite all her best efforts, is falling in love with her. It's like being plunged into a bottomless pit. Marisa thinks that, if that little bundle opened her eyes now and sweetly asked her to jump in an abyss, she would. She would jump in them all.

'Pantalaimon,' she whispers to the tiny mouse, clutching at her daughter's chest. Means, merciful. She's going to need all mercy after what she's about to do.

~ 3 ~

Giving Lyra away strains at her heart the same as being separated from her daemon. The same as with her daemon, Marisa doesn't show pain. Doesn't mean it's not there, in the glassy calm eyes and a thin arhythmic beating of her heart.

Asriel is furious with her, she knows, and yet he doesn't have time for their daughter either. He forbids the Master of the Jordan College to let Marisa in. She pretends she doesn't care, he pretends he doesn't give a damn about her not caring. They both hurt. Neither of them hurts enough to get them off their magnificent ambitious paths.

~ 4 ~ 

It's the worst in Bolvangar. Her dark, truly northern heart, cold through and through, simply stops at the sound of Lyra's voice.

A mother couldn't bear it. Marisa Coulter can, because she was late for motherhood just like Asriel was late for that dinner, but still, between the realization and the frantic salvation of her own child, there is nothing in her chest. Heartbeat - lost. Maybe it leapt out to Lyra. Maybe it left her actual, physical body for just a moment. She wouldn't be surprised. That girl was greedy. She loved that girl with everything she had.

That missed hearbeat feels like falling towards a sure, inevitable break.

~ 5 ~

Asriel loses his heartbeats, too. When she refuses to join him, his chest explodes inwards. He wanted her to say yes. When she paused before the answer, he already knew.

He hoped Marisa would see through him when he threatened her, and his giant, steady heart, that kept him going through snowstorms and the wilderness, stumbled helplessly when he realized that she had seen through him, indeed, but chose to stay. He felt untethered. She stood there with his heartbeat bleeding off her fingertips and looked at him like she had always done, with her constant, unbending 'Asriel, no...' dried silently on her lips. Strange how he didnt recognize the taste.

He wanted to ask for this heartbeat back. This one, she stole.

Though if he was being honest with himself, he still gave it to her gladly.

~ 6 ~

Bolvangar was not, in fact, the worst. The worst is when Marisa looks at her daughter, feeling Lyra's primal fear of her, and can't find another way to protect her except by hurting her even worse.

'Let us go,' Lyra whispers, half-asleep, because that's the thought that comes to her first when she regains consciousness. That's where they are at. Her own daughter hates her enough to beg for her freedom.

But I remember the day you were born, Marisa wants to say, blinking the raging tears away, as if it would change anything. I remember holding you, I remember loving you, I'm not as awful as you think. I'm not a monster. I love you. It's my way of loving you. She bites it right at her lips, crushing bitter words before they ever leave her mouth. Her maternal love is like barbed wire. Cuts both of them. She doesn't know how to stop.

Her heart falls silent for a fraction of a second every time Lyra looks at her with suffering, pleading eyes.

~ 7 ~

'We should have married, and brought her up ourselves.'

He blinks at the thought. She says something else, continues talking, and eventually, he manages to reply, but his mind is still caught. They should have. The should have, a relentless echo. There's a lot they should have done. They should have done everything. Her hair catch a billion tiny fires from the light, and she looks so tired, so pale and tired. He remembers the night they met, and how he thought, hungrily, joyfully: this is it. She's the one. He looks at Marisa now and still thinks the same, only with sudden doom. He wants to break something. He wants to touch her hair.

His beastly heart misses a beat, and it's like Stelmaria's claws. He looks at Marisa. He doesn't know how to say that she's right. Should-haves and what-ifs hang heavily in the air. Thorns everywhere. They can't untangle them.

~ 8 ~

Every second beat now, sometimes even every first. He thinks, he'll die. Crushing blows keep pouring down on his head and shoulders. No one can be that desperate and still alive.

Too many at once now. Heartbeats flooding out of him, and when Asriel gains enough consciouseness to understand that, he doesn't want them to go in vain. If anything, they should go to her.

'Marisa! Marisa!'

I loved you. I love you still. I'm scared. I was wrong. He doesn't care about his war anymore, nor about the angel trying to shake him down to rise and kill his daughter. Their daughter. He's just crying out her name. There's no more powerful an authority for him, than her name. He should have known that earlier.

Another beat lost. Young Mrs. Coulter laughs at his joke with her eyes, arm at her husband's elbow, beautiful hair he wants to dishevel gleam in the soft light, and he knows he's won. He knows he won't let go. He mustn't.

And for her, he doesn't.

~ 9 ~

She jumps. And it is all worth it, because, as a very wise man once told her, her life is, too, worth a mere one-tenth of her daughter's. Even less. Much less, if she's honest. Her heart falters.

One beat. She knew that abyss would find her from the day she held Lyra in her arms. She has no regrets.

Two beats. Forever falling, next to Asriel. Almost comforting. His hands are bloody and spasmed with effort. She touches them briefly as they fall.

Three beats. Young Asriel Belacqua sits across from her, and his eyes are piercing blue like she's never seen before. They will fight, she knows it even then. And she wants it anyway. In a way, they have been falling together ever since.

Four beats. Lyra's face. Her daemon holding out his paw. It allows one painful, shattering thrust into her heart. She wants to call Asriel's name to tell him that it's alright, that they did well, or just to feel his name on her tongue; but can't.

And, after that, no count is needed, because all heartbeats are lost and fall eternally around them.

[zomeszone]

This is a random His Dark Materials fic I quickly wrote. I have written fanfiction in the past but this is my first His Dark Materials fic. It's a small moment where Lyra's and Will's futures are connected

This is on AO3 with a few edits

As they entered the theatre, Lyra made sure Pan had his seat. It was in contrast with everyone else in the theatre. They had their daemons touching them, some even curled into their sides. Lyra was more dressed up for the occasion, in a white blouse with a light tan skirt which had a small petticoat built-in with ankle boots, her favourite bag over her shoulder.

Films were invented a year before but it was the first time a cinema had opened and was open to the public. Lyra was eager to see the first film they showed to see how similar it was to that one time, years before with Will. Looking around, people were more dressed up than she was. Lyra knew that moving pictures could happen and it was common to go in Will's world. To everyone else in her world, it was a brand-new thing and they were known as 'moving photograms' but Lyra chose to always call them 'films'

The only other seemingly open seat was on Lyra's right side. She wished Will was occupying that seat and sat with snacks she would steal. Pan and Kirjava on the other side of them, watching the film like their owners, and their tails entwined.

As it started, Lyra expectantly looked to her right, hoping that Will had somehow figured out a way to get there. Instead, there was a llama daemon sitting there. If Will was in the land of the daemons, they would've been buzzing that they could watch movies in Lyra's world!

In his world, Will had sat down on a first date with a girl named Imogen. They met when the guy Will had briefly dated had introduced them on a night out. They'd agreed to it after Will had broken up with James. Will and Imogen had a horrendous Pizza Express dinner, in which they didn't seem to get along. He hoped that "Back to Black" would distract him from her.

Imogen was the polar opposite of Will in every way. She wanted to be in the middle of everything when he was more comfortable blending in. He knew that opposites could complement each other, but he and Imogen just clashed. She was a bit on the taller side with short ginger hair, wearing a black dress with a yellow overshirt and yellow high tops. He was in his go-too random t-shirt with dark jeans and fleece combo with his old faithful trainers.

He sat in his seat with Imogen on his right and an empty seat on his left. As the sound of Amy Winehouse's voice filled the theatre, he looked at the empty seat, thinking to himself, "Lyra, look at this!"

A lesbian couple was sitting on the other side of that seat. One of them had bleach-blonde hair and was sitting where he envisioned Pan and Kirjava being. He liked the idea of their tails being tangled together.

[torvagatai]

If anyone needs a new reason to cry over these two today, just remember that the modern-era Will of the TV adaptation took this photo of the Tower of the Angels on the day he and Lyra first met. Meaning that he’s got a photo of Lyra that he probably doesn’t even remember taking, and on some uneventful, monotonous day when he’s back home and absently flicking through his phone he’ll find it. He was in a rush to catch up with her, he remembers, so it’s not a very good photo - a little blurred, taken at an odd angle. Lyra’s not even the focus of the picture; she’s turned away from him, her face completely hidden, Pan almost cut out of the frame entirely. But it’s unmistakably her.

The first time he stumbles across it, Will can hardly bear to look at it. But he keeps the photo always, makes multiple digital and physical copies just in case. Sometimes it hurts to look at. Sometimes it brings him comfort. He takes a copy to Mary Malone and she tacks it up on her laboratory wall. On one of the less painful days he shows it to his mother and laughs as he tells her the story of how she attacked him when they first met.

And on more than one Midsummer’s Day he takes it with him to the Botanic Garden.

[dreasdreams]

Lord Asriel x Marisa Coulter moodboard

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

[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.

[thedemonofcat]

In the final trial to become a witcher, their dæmons are severed from them. Geralt recalls his dæmon, Dandelion, looking at him and promising to return one day. Elsewhere in Lettenhove, a baby named Julian was born.

Julian Pankratz, better known as Jaskier, had always been different. He was born without a dæmon, a rarity that marked him as unique. Perhaps this peculiarity drew him to Geralt, the witcher who found the bard's lack of a dæmon intriguing.

Unknown to either of them, Jaskier is actually Dandelion, keeping his promise.

[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.

[tragicotps]

Young Masriel au [part 1: First meeting]: Recently returned from one of his expeditions, Asriel plans to crash one of Edward Coulter's exclusive dinner parties for networking purposes. At the door he's greeted by a mysterious and attractive young woman, who turns out to be married to the party host and coincidentally one of his biggest political rivals.

[horsegirlwarcrimes]

I have come back am I allowed to ask about more WIPs from your list. I am so so curious about "Shen Yuan Gets Two Daemons", the intersection of daemons with transmigration is so interesting to me. (I may be back again later but I am trying once again to not do So Many Asks At Once)

omg thank u for the continued asks!!

for this fic, the concept is that when shen yuan transmigrates into shen qingqiu, he takes over the OGs body but not his soul. therefore ergo, shen qingqiu is gone, but his daemon is still there. shen yuan reluctantly makes a deal with the og scum villain's daemon—xiu ya won't turn him in for the body snatching if shen yuan works on finding a way to resurrect shen qingqiu. shen yuan's own soul is very excited to suddenly have a body of her own AND a bonus brother.

Shen Yuan returns to the world of the living with a scream.  Not his own, as it turns out. He awakens laying in bed, something warm and soft and weighty laying in his chest. There’s a soft thump thump thump that beats in time with his heart. For a moment, he feels perfectly at peace—like the best ASMR ever, sending tingles through his whole body and making every muscle relax.  That’s when the screaming starts.  Shen Yuan shoots up and instantly regrets it. The weight on his chest goes flying off with a discontented noise, and the room spins around him. He’s caught between a need to get up, to find and soothe the source of the sound, and an arresting vertigo that steals the air from his lungs. The result is him flailing half way out of bed in a tangle of—silk?  Two large, firm hands catch him around the shoulders.  “Shidi, please, stay in bed. Everything will be alright. I’ve called for Mu Qingfang. A-Su is doing what she can. Just stay still.”  Shen Yuan doesn’t recognize the latter name, but the former pings something in the back of his mind. He looks up blearily as those hands gently press him back into the mattress.  The man leaning over him has a broad, handsome face that, combined with the dark eyes and gentle, worried crease to his brow, immediately puts Shen Yuan in mind of his older brothers. He allows this to be his excuse for folding right away, letting himself be manhandled back into bed even as half of his brain is clawing for him to move, to help. He looks over the man’s shoulder, searching for the source of the agonized screaming. It sounds like someone is being murdered. What he finds is a sight his mind can’t fully comprehend. There is a large dog in a corner of the room with its paw holding something down. The thing under its paw is a shifting mass, leaking strange golden dust. One moment there is fur, then feathers, then scales. It screams all the while.  “What’s wrong with him?” Shen Yuan asks blankly.  “I’m not sure,” the man says, “but we are going to fix it.” His eyes look sad.  There is a little scrabbling noise, barely audible over the creature in the corner’s yelling. A fluffy white cat jumps onto the mattress and climbs up onto Shen Yuan’s chest.  “Ah,” he says, and his hands instinctively come up around her. She must be what he accidentally flung away before.  She makes a sleepy grumble and gets comfortable. Shen Yuan finds his energy and his ability to comprehend his surroundings fading rapidly, now that she is there, warm and solid in his arms. He bats away the human hand that reaches for his wrist absently.  “Xiao Jiu, that—”  The man next to the bed looks strangely horrified as he drifts off. Shen Yuan has no idea who he was talking to.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi, Steph. I'm hoping you can help me find a fic I read years ago. I'm pretty sure I read it before S3 came out.

It's an AU in a world where everyone has some sort of companion animal. John's companion is a friendly dog. Mycroft has a beetle he keeps in a metal tube welded shut in his pocket. He says she feels safe and secure that way (spoiler, that's a lie). And Sherlock just. doesn't. have. one.

This is super strange because everyone has one. If someone's companion animal ever dies, the person generally goes insane and dies too. John and his dog once in a field tries to see how far apart they could get from each other before it became unbearable.

Sherlock also talks to and touches John's dog. It's generally frowned upon to touch someone else's companion animal.

The only other things I remember are that there's a scene where Sherlock and John have cornered a suspect, and Sherlock shoots the suspect's companion animal. John is flabbergasted. And there's a big reveal about why Sherlock doesn't have a companion animal of his own.

Hi Lovely!

OH GOSH, this sounds SO familiar; I THINK it's a His Dark Materials or Daemons AU... Here is what I found doing a tag search on my MFL list, perhaps it's one of these?:

Asteroidea Series by etothepii (E, 16,253+ w. across 3 works || Series WiP || His Dark Materials Fusion || Daemon Sherlock, Untagged Stories) – In the pocket of his trousers, next to his phone, Mycroft carries the standard-issue steel capsule meant for protecting arthropod daemons. When people ask about it, he smiles and tells them she's not fond of the light, or of people other than himself. This is a lie.

Unsettled by AxeMeAboutAxinomancy (E, 33,879 w., 10 Ch. || HIs Dark Materials AU || Daemons, Dark Themes, Non-Con) – Sherlock's dæmon hadn't settled. Once John realised that, so much made sense. Though so much else didn't, because it practically wasn't possible. Part 1 of the The Utmost Edge of Hazard series

The Republic of Heaven Series by Blind_Author (E, 128,844+ w. across 3 works || Series WiP || His Dark Materials / Daemon AU || S1 Compliant, Witches, Bears, BAMF John, Mutual Pining, Oblivious John, Evil Moriarty) – John and his dæmon, Amarisa, have never quite fit in, largely because she settled as a wolfdog. Sherlock and Raniel are similarly isolated, mostly because the woman they call Mummy is a witch. These two men and their dæmons end up sharing a flat together and the rest, as they say, is history. And with a witch-clan out for John's blood and a man known as Moriarty emerging from the shadows, they're certainly not going to be bored.

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I haven't read any of these, but my money is on the "Asteroidea" series given the description mentions the stuff you're looking for!!

If anyone knows for SURE, let us know!!

I hope one of these are it, though, Lovely!

[fern-stone]

You’re Where I Belong

Read on ao3

Lyra/Will, post-canon, reunion fic

2.5k, T Rated

At age 25, Lyra finds Will again.

[beauregardstaxicab]

My Soul In Your Hands: A Coldflash 'His Dark Materials AU'

Teaser for the first part of a new fic I'm getting ready to post on AO3! It'll be one long one-shot.

“Can’t really blame the kid for giving you up,” Leonard said as he pulled off his goggles. “You or his brother? Come on! I put him in a tight spot. Same kind I got you in right now.”

He pointed at Barry to emphasize his point. It was difficult to see clearly with Barry’s face in the shadows, but he could tell he was glaring back at him. Leonard smirked and opened his mouth to continue, but he got distracted by a strange buzzing sound. 

It was loud in the silence of the moonlit forest, and as he peeled his eyes and looked around, he saw something moving quickly around the circle, particularly around Barry. It looked like Barry’s dæmon was an extremely large bumblebee.

Well, that’s adorable, Leonard thought with a grin. 

“Can’t really stop me now that I know who you are,” Leonard continued. They taunted each other back and forth a bit, and Leonard ignored the way Ruby was getting stirred up by the incessant buzzing and started scurrying around Leonard’s feet. 

“I won’t let you keep stealing whatever you want, whenever you feel like it. It needs to end.”

Leonard stared him down and said, “Can’t do that. It’s what I—” 

Suddenly, Barry’s dæmon flew right in front of his face and hovered there. The moonlight poured over her and Leonard’s breath caught as her vibrant green chest radiated like a handful of emeralds. No, she was even more beautiful than that. 

He’d never seen a hummingbird so close before, though he’d seen plenty of pictures. It was amazing how small they were and yet held so much power in their little wings. They were nothing more than a blur�� just like Barry.

“Hallie, come back.”

She zigzagged a bit in front of Leonard’s face first, and he got the impression that she was sassing him. He didn’t mean to smile at her, but it was difficult. A person’s dæmon was very telling of who they were. The ravenous racoon at his feet was proof of that. He couldn’t wait to dissect this later.

As she flew back to circle around Barry, Leonard blinked, feeling like he was awakening from a trance. He tried to remember what he’d been saying, but Barry was quicker.

“Then find a new line of work.”

Leonard shrugged. “Don’t want to.”

“Why’s that?”

“The same reason you keep running after guys like me. The adrenaline. The thrill of the chase. I love this game, and I’m very good at it.”

“Then go play it somewhere else.”

Barry opened his mouth to continue, but he frowned and looked to the left. Leonard followed his gaze and rolled his eyes. Ruby was climbing a nearby tree, stopping occasionally to reach her grubby little hand out at Hallie. 

“Ruby,” he said in a warning tone, but she just kept growling excitedly as she scurried onto a branch to get closer to the hummingbird flitting around her. He glared at her and snapped, “Ruby!”

She looked back at him and hissed. Barry’s eyes widened, and he quickly covered his mouth, hiding a grin. From the way Hallie was staying just outside of Ruby’s reach, Leonard almost thought she was baiting her. Barry didn’t seem to have the guile capable of that, but it made him wonder.

As the branch under Ruby began to snap under her weight, Leonard sighed and trudged over to her. He grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and hauled her down. She screeched and fought him off, but he kept a firm hold on her as he went back to the spot he was in. He could deal with the pain it inflicted on himself, but he knew he’d be hearing about it later from her. It was her fault though for acting like an idiot in front of his nemesis.

“Sorry about that,” he said, dropping her unceremoniously at his feet. “She likes shiny things.”

Barry put his hands on his hips and cocked an eyebrow. “Can’t say I’m surprised by that. What were we—?”

“I said I wasn’t about to quit being a thief.”

Nodding, Barry said, “And I was about to tell you to leave Central City.”

“Can’t do that either. I love it here.” He breathed in the cool, night air and said, “This city is my home.”

Barry reminded him of what he was capable of as he slowly walked closer to Leonard. Barry put an emphasis on stopping Leonard from killing or hurting anyone else, particularly those closest to him. It came as no surprise. He always knew Barry’s priorities always revolved around protecting human lives, something that was so easy to exploit.

Leonard cataloged every little thing he said while vaguely noting how handsome Barry was now that his face was no longer in the shadows. He should really mess up his hair more often.

“... I’m putting you away.”

Leonard’s eyes trailed down Barry’s body. Flash meant it as a warning, but it wasn’t a bad deal. He was good enough to do what he loved without killing anyone else, and he already had the leverage he needed against him. 

“I guess your secret’s safe, Flash… for now.”

He was a little disappointed when Barry reached back to pull his cowl over his head, indicating the end of the conversation. They cleared everything up, sure, but he bet he could needle a bit more out of him with a bit more talk, more than Barry intended to give away. He’d already given Leonard a lot, after all.

Once Barry’s head was trapped in his red condom mask, he saw Hallie sticking closer to him as if she was waiting for something. Now that she wasn’t moving so quickly, though, Ruby scampered closer to Barry and jumped up and down a few times, trying to snatch the hummingbird out of the air. She couldn’t even get close to her.

Barry stared down at her and then looked up at Leonard. “She’s not trying to eat my dæmon, is she?”

Leonard simply grinned back. Barry rolled his eyes and cupped his hands. Hallie swooped down and cradled herself between his palms, and Leonard watched intently as Barry slipped her into a special compartment on his belt.

He hummed. “I was wondering why you needed such a big belt since it wasn’t the most… aerodynamic embellishment. I just figured you were compensating.”

Barry huffed out a laugh. “I’m not really the compensating type.”

“No?” Leonard asked with a tilt of his head.

“Regardless, she’s well protected,” Barry said in a colder tone as he shot Leonard a warning look.

He held up his hands. “Relax, Flash. I’m not a nice man, but as a thief I have an admiration for aesthetics. I’d never harm a little jewel like that.”

Barry’s lips parted, but he said nothing. 

Leonard looked around and said, “Oh, I don’t suppose you’d give me a ride back to town, would you?”

Barry grinned and sped off, leaving Leonard and Ruby alone to fend for themselves. He couldn’t say he was surprised. 

“The Rogues,” he said, chuckling. “Cute.”

“I’m so glad you’re having fun,” Ruby grumbled as she sat on her haunches and glared up at him. “Why’d you have to spoil mine?”

“Sorry, Rubes. That’s one jewel you can’t keep.”

She huffed. “We’ll see about that.”

“How about I go sneak you some emeralds from the local jewelry store instead?”

“Nooooo! I want to play with her. She’s pretty and soft and her wings go brrrrrrrrrr. I bet she’d feel great in my mouth.”

He tilted his head. “You actually want to eat her?”

“No! I just want to hold her in my mouth. There’s a difference.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he said, grimacing. He walked toward her and held out his hand for her to grab hold of. Once she had him, he swung her up on his shoulder and began walking in the direction of the city. 

After a few minutes, he said, “Don’t forget the rules, Ruby. No touching other people, and no touching other dæmons, unless—”

“We’re going for the kill, which I guess is out now, too.”  She hopped into the hood of his parka, curled up, and heaved a big sigh. “Spoiling all my fun.”

“Now, now… We’ll still have plenty of fun.” He smirked as he remembered the tension crackling between him and Barry as he stood close to him, the challenging look in his eyes. “We’re still playing the game, Rubes. It’s just that the rules have changed.”

[chaosandwolves]

I feel incredibly stupid

I just rewatched the golden compass movie and googled why there was never a part 2 and.... I just found out that the "His dark materials" series is exactly that story!???

WHY DID I NOT KNOW THIS????

Like I even read the first book but I never knew that's what the series is called

Omg wtf

WHY DID I NOT KNOW THIS???

On the bright side... Got a new series to watch... So I guess... Yay?

Edit:

Wait... James McAvoy stars in this???

Again....

WHY DID I NOT KNOW THIS?