#i really love learning about historical things like the link boys in this fic

[leona-florianova]

Illustration for Hellblazer fanfic Lights Out (by NAOA on ao3)

[myloveforhergoeson]

ash's august 2024 reading round up

find all the books and fics i read (or didn't read...) this month under the cut with a link to the synopsis and my reviews/ratings attached :)

this is just for fun! i'm not a professional, i just like to read <3

booklist:

The Au Pair Affair by Tessa Bailey (18+!)

• review: ugh. this book was so bad lmao. which does pain me to say because i historically have really enjoyed bailey's writing. and i was super excited for this one because i love hockey romance too! but something about it just felt... off to me. perhaps it was the mmc, burgess' protectiveness of this woman he met one time months ago or how much he thought about how they weren't right for each other or maybe i just didn't like him as a character in general. i also didn't like the fmc, tallulah all that much either; i just found her kind of... allowing herself to be a product of her own situations throughout the entire book. i am sympathetic to her previous bad experience with her ex boyfriend and how he treated her, but i also believe there are better ways to draw attention to the fact that "burgess is a strong, violent hockey player and she was abused by her ex, how could they ever be right for each other?!?!" like... does every woman in a hockey romance have to experience this in order to make this dichotomy known? i just would have liked some more originality on that front i don't know. i also think there was a huge missed opportunity for lissa, burgess' daughter, to have helped bridge the gap between the two adults. as tallulah becomes her part-time caregiver while burgess is away, the two of them really hit it off - i think they had the best dynamic in the entire book and i wish there was more about them and how seeing his daughter and the woman he liked getting along inspired burgess or something. but overall. just a pretty flat story to me. i didn't feel the chemistry, i didn't like how burgess treated tallulah like he owned her, and i didn't like that sooo many times each of them thought they weren't right for each other. why? because it was fucking true! there's a reason you're both feeling this! the best part of this book was the ending chapters where they attend the wedding of the mc's of the first book in this series. i was very excited to see josephine again, i loved her so much. the barnes + noble exclusive bonus chapter was literally the best thing in the book but doesn't make the book itself better in anyway as not everyone got to read it lmao

• rating: 2/5 hockey skates

fic list:

1. Assorted works of @selangkir <333

• Continuation of their Jo/Lucy fic!

MY GIVE A FUCKS ARE ON VACATION

i truly cannot get enough of jo and lucy and your beautiful mind... the dynamic these two have going is already making me giddy and i'm so obsessed with your take on this alternate universe where the boys leave instead of jo! the background you're spinning for lucy has also got my attention in such a grip, the scene at jett's party when she's thinking about her brother and how they used to have these kickbacks with all of his friends. the way we don't learn much about her family in btrtv left so much room for expansion, and i just love the direction you're taking it! AND of course the perfect continuation of our GTR au... god, the kendall and katie scene was so funny to me i love how Sibling they really are. the expansion work on kendall is just fascinating too and running a donation campaign on top of that?? augh! tysm for sharing your work w us <3 (and the private post you sent me with your wips... oh augh i cannot wait for what's in store in the future!!)

2. Assorted works of @ceruleanmusings :))) <3

• Big Time Audition - The Masons

.10

.11

.12

Blood Diamond; Year Three

as always, i ADORED your work this month... lord... i thought about big time audition - the masons for like an entire week. the way each girl is introduced and the way it fits them so perfectly had me feeling like i was there in the house with them, tracking through room to room to see what each of them were doing and how you chose to share them with the world. not only that, but micky watching james' audition literally made me fall out of my chair AHH! i just love them so so so much; the 10-12 blurbs were so wonderful. blood diamond year three was also an incredible work - i loved the direction of choosing to have it be purely conversational but it was still packed with so much raw emotion. the last line also felt like a sucker punch to the face i don't think i'll ever forget it.

3. Assorted works of @partiallypearl / @praetoravila !! <3

hold tight

but we're evergreen

her sense of style, it really rocks

jelisa kiss blurb

cause you got me, and baby, i got you

i tried not to face the truth

be my bad boy (be my man)

oh, i leave quite the impression

our human loneliness

show me your colors

ok.... the way i have been so olivepilled this month is just insane. i'm obsessed with her, i love her, she is my special perfect girl. thank you so much for feeding us with all this good olive content this month - i might die without it. everything about her story, from the introduction with her and her sister (wren... loml) and the first time she meets logan, to their ongoing friendship --> relationship dynamic has me SCREAMING. i love the story you are weaving and i'm so thankful to be able to see it unfolding in real time. she DOES leave quite the impression! the two of them make me illlll. ty for letting me send you a million lolive songs and tiktoks this month and thank you for letting me steal her for the wag au!! it will happen again (affectionately). and your lucy blurb was so captivating as well; your take on her life events leading to her arrival at the palm woods was fascinating. i love her so much! your writing only solidifies this hehe

4. Assorted works of @icegirl2772 <33 !!

• Take A Shot In The Dark Chapter 15!

We Do (But Friends Don't)

girl... you should have seen my jaw DROP at the end of this chapter... oh you got me sooooo so sosoo so good. i was throwing parties in my head... screaming... and then i was crying 😭 A DREAM??? so impactful to my health and wellbeing i stg. i cannot wait for the james and neil show down i am so ready for it... and the new addition of we do (but friends don't) was lovely. god i can't get enough of james and kaelyn!! <333

5. Assorted works of @inkameswetrust :)) !!! <3

The Windowsill

The Windowsill (pt. 2)

The Windowsill (pt. 3)

hiii bestie welcome to the reading round up... your kames fic had me screaming and crying and throwing up (affectionately) even if i accidentally started on the second chapter and not the first hehe. the dynamic between james and kendall is so sweet - james being sooo thoughtful and surprising?? hello?? i a puddle on the floor - and the dynamic you created between kendall and his family in the second edition was so cute. the knights are so special to me and i love that you chose to highlight them (even during kendall's james freak out) :)) the third edition was so cute as well! logan and carlos cutting off their conversation... teasing kendall about what happened... omg. the two of them make me so giddy and this fic is making me collect my own butterflies in my stomach hehe and the classic kendall fumble at the end had me rolling... tysm for sharing! i love your work!!!

[skibasyndrome]

Hey Simon 💜,

1, 2,4, 36, 39, 41, 46 and 47 for the fanfic ask :)

Hope you have a lovely weekend!!

Hi Sophia 🥰 Thanks so much for sending in an ask! I'll try my best to reply with the tiny catalog of read fics I have available haha.

favorite fanfic of all time

I cannot possibly answer something as... final as this lmao. I'll just name my recent faves again (sorry for tagging you guys again):

The most beautiful boy by thelovelysarcastic (not on tumblr? idk?)

Treasures and Treachery by itsme_hi_imtheproblem/@iwouldnevergetintofanfic

Ivy by unfortunate17/@unfortunate17

2. favorite writer of the fandom

You see... now I have a very similar problem, lmao. Toooo many amazingly talented people whose writing I am obsessed with, to possibly decide, but I'll give a few definite faves:

@earlgrey-lateatnight (RubyIntyale), @ungaroyals (embracedthevoid), @unfortunate17, @darktwistedgenderplural, @iwouldnevergetintofanfic (itsme_hi_imtheproblem), @stretchoutfics (strechoutandwait), ... (and I'm sure I'm already forgetting people and fics arghhh)

4. the fanfic you would recommande for somebody not in the fandom

Honestly? All of my favorites.

But I actually did send a link to you can stay by origamifrogs/@princewillesothermom to my bf @alkalinetrios yesterday because I was like "I don't care that you're not involved, you HAVE to read this". (it's beautiful and heart-wrenching and a masterpiece)

36.   your favorite trope

So if we're learning one thing here today, it's that I am highly indecisive. God, I love so many tropes. I think it'd be easier to ask which tropes I don't like, I guess?

But I definitely love a good slow-burn, a good friends-to-lovers or enemies-to-lovers or strangers-to-whatever-to-lovers with everyone suffering from being painfully in love. I guess I just very much love reading about them falling in love and being dumb about not noticing that it's mutual lol. Yeah I think that's it, something like mutual, very lovesick pining.

39. a trope you would like to see (more) in the fandom

Oh idk, I don't think I have enough of an overview to really say something I missing, but as a never-fully-recovered former emo kid I'd love to see some more of the stuff the MCR fandom had for example, like idk... vampires obviously, but also ghost stuff or like tragic angsty historical fics or idk. I guess just some dark stuff? For funsies lol.

41. How do you choose the fic you read

Firstly it's gotta be Wilmon-centric, then I look at the word count, and compare that to how much time I have lol, then I read the summary and idk? I guess either the writing style needs to catch me immediately or it needs to be some original premise. Or a retelling of one of my favorite scenes, that also catches me lol. So I guess I just base what I want to read on the summary. Oh, or a trusted mutual/friend recommends it!

46. did you stay awake up to an veeeery unreasonable hour to finish a fanfic

Yeeeeeeep, very much do that, probably too often. Sometimes my eyes will be falling shut, but I tell myself I gotta push through, there's only x chapters left lol

47. WIP or not WIP

Yes WIP!!!! I love WIPs for soooo many reasons, most of all because it's such a fun journey and because the waiting just kind of heightens the excitement for the next chapter!

Send me a fanfic ask

[mixsethaddams]

Another tag game

Thanks to @freddykicksasses for tagging me. Same as the last one, I’m not sure who has or hasn’t done it at this stage, so to avoid me tagging people who have already taken part, consider this an open tag to anyone who wants to get involved!

What I usually wear:

Pyjamas, mostly. I work from home so I don’t often actually get dressed. When I do go out, I most often wear a long black dress with some boots. I have a big soft spot for 90s grunge fashion and romantic goths, so I think my personal style is a mish mash of those. 

How tall I am:

5 foot 3 and a half babyyyyyy

My star sign. Do I know any celebrities or historical event that shares it:

I’m a March pisces, so you know, god help us all. I think Matthew Gray Gubler has the same birthday as me?

Do I go by a name or nickname:

I go by Seth online in settings like tumblr, discord, etc, where I have a more anon vibe. If someone wanted to try, they could probably string together a link between my tiktok and my tumblr, but other than that I keep my real name out of spaces where I don’t show my face. I prefer to be unhinged anonymously. 

Did I grow up to be what I wanted to be as a child:

I found an old school workbook when I moved out of my family home a few years back and there was an essay in there that I wrote when I was 7, all about wanting to be a Model slash Vet slash Millionaire when I grew up. Dear reader, I am none of those things.

Something I'm good at vs Something I'm bad at:

I’m a good cook! I can follow a recipe like a motherfucker and I’ve got enough of a foundation that I can mess around with flavours successfully. My husband isn’t vegan like I am, so I had to put a lot of focus into learning how to use my sense of smell more than anything when I cook for him too. It’s fun.

I’m terrible at doing anything in half-measures. If there’s a small, medium, and large drink option, I’ll get the large. I’ll only get the most expensive and biggest thing I can, at any time. If I can’t, I’ll be sad about it. I’ll force myself to finish a full plate even if I’m stuffed. I’m very all or nothing and it definitely comes with it’s own challenges. Especially with money, because I’m not well-off by any stretch of the imagination. I read once that growing up in a poorer situation can lead to not knowing how to manage money as an adult and boy howdy, am I a great example of that. 

If I draw or write, what's my favourite of anything I created this year?

2022 I’m guessing? I’m proud of how crushcrushcrush is turning out, despite everything. I’ve always struggling to write so much dialogue and I’m happy with how I’ve done it in this fic I think. When He Loved Me was a very cathartic thing to write for me as well. I spent a lot of time really thinking through how that mental state can manifest itself and how it can present in certain situations. Honestly though just for the sheer fun factor, I’d have to say Eddie/Hotdude Official Megathread! is my number one. 

I’m trying to work on an original story this new year so hopefully I end up being proud of that too. 

Dogs or cats:

I have three dogs and six cats so I think I have to remain neutral here.

Something I would like to make content for:

Myself! I spent years and years writing what I thought other people wanted to read and it only led to me not writing anything for a very long time. I’ve been using fanfiction to reignite my spark and so far so good!

Something I was excited about that turned out to dissappoint me:

Panic! At The Discos last two albums. They were my absolute favourites right since AFYCSO but I just couldn’t fall in love with Pray For The Wicked or Viva Las Vengeance. 

Hidden talent:

I have double joined toes and can move them like fingers. I used to be able to roll my tongue into two rolls but then I got a load of tongue piercings and can’t do it anymore

[tinyhistory]

Hey! Love your stories so much I just had to ask! Do you have any favorite drarry authors/stories? I sometimes compare the quality of other stories to ROA (oops!) because ROA is just that good. My personal favorites are ROA (of course!), the Foundations Series (saras_girl), the ordeal of being known (louisfake), denouement (the_never_was), Good to Me (And I'd Be So Good to You) (AWickedMemory), and To Hurt and Heal (cassisluna). Have you read these? Have a wonderful day! :)

Thank you, so glad you’ve enjoyed my stories! And thank you for so patiently waiting for a reply. I haven’t been online much in the past couple of weeks. Unfortunately I haven’t read any of your recs, but I’m always happy to add another fic to my to-read list.

I did a rec post a few months ago, but I’ll post an updated version now. The Skyhawke Archives appear to be down, which is crushing news. I’ve had to update a lot of the links.

So here are my favourite Drarry fanfics:

And We Are At Our Apogee (PG-13) by angelgazing

Summary: Draco wanted revenge, but it didn't work out that way.

My notes: Californian beaches, supermarkets, road trips, and a bittersweet ending.

-

A Reckless State of Mind (T) by Lomonaaeren

Summary: Draco is a Psyche-Diver, and his newest patient is Auror Potter, who’s been a pathological liar for over a year—and has just tried to violently end his own life.

Notes: The plot alone guarantees inclusion on this list. Probably the most creative fic I’ve ever read, and the twists and turns will keep you guessing.

-

Berlin, In the Year of Our Lord (PG) by Are

Summary: Harry is a green-tea addict. Draco stalks him.

Notes: Probably my all-time favourite fic, along with Blue Vase. It’s sparse and minimal and I love that writing style.

-

Blue Vase (M) by ivyblossom

Summary: Let’s pretend.

Notes: Draco finds an amnesiac Harry and befriends him, pretending they were once lovers. It’s pensive, short, and bittersweet.

-

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice (E) by lettered

Summary: Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks.

Notes: Action-heavy fics are damn hard to write, but lettered nails it. The action scenes are breakneck speed, the conversations are threaded with double meaning, and even the silences are tense.

-

Draco in Darkness (T) by Plumeria47.

Summary: Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight.

Notes: This is one of the first fics I ever read (when it was over on FF in 2003) so it’s probably here just for nostalgia points alone. I read it when I was a kid and just thought it was a lovely golden fairytale, the best romance I’d ever read in my (very short, thus far) life. I love reading it again, even years later as an adult when I can see the tarnish on it; the things my childhood eyes didn’t notice. I don’t care. It’s my soft and fuzzy comfort fic.

-

The Flesh is Frail (NC-17) by wildestranger

Summary: None

Notes: Draco has injuries from curses and spells, and Harry keeps him company. Draco is angry; Harry is stubborn. They argue their way into a grudging relationship. It’s a short read and well worth your ten minutes.

-

Good-bye to Yesterday (NC-17) by furiosity

Summary: Draco felt ready to face even a million years in Azkaban as long as it meant that at the end of it all, he would make Potter pay.

Notes: It’s not a dark fic, but it certainly dips in and out of the shadows. If you like your romance to be sharp as a razor and bitter as black coffee, give it a read.

-

Hymn to Color (PG) by Lomonaaeren

Summary: Months after Draco cast a curse that took Harry’s eyesight, Harry is still trying to come to terms with it. Draco still wanted forgiveness, which was probably the problem.

Notes: Probably my very inadequate idea of “fluff”. It’s a quiet, introspective fic. Draco and Harry are well-written.

-

Kings among runaways (PG) by enderxenocide.

Summary: Later, the toast will be slightly overcooked, Draco will burn the eggs, and there will be another fist fight in-between the living room and the front door, but they’ll eat breakfast with second-hand plates and Draco’s great-grandmother’s silverware.

Notes: Dreamy descriptions, abstract scenes, and the characters are lovingly delineated. Beautiful writing.

-

On Broken Glass (PG-13) by coffeejunkii

Summary: After the final battle, Draco is holding the shards that are left of his and Harry’s life.

Notes: Established relationship. Harry’s forgetful and seems to suffer both short-term and long-term memory loss; Draco stays by his side through six years of post-war amnesia. Very short, just a tiny ficlet. There’s sequels (in bite-size pieces) but I prefer to read the first ficlet and leave it there.

-

Paper Dolls (M) by cupiscent

Summary: In the final year of the War, Draco gets a letter, makes a choice and pays the price.

Notes: Short, succinct, and packs a punch. No character deaths, in case the summary has you feeling nervous.

-

Portrait (PG-13) by Silent Blast

Summary: None.

Notes: Dorian Grey, but Drarry. Of course it’s going to be good.

-

Shattered (NC-17) by femmequixotic

Summary: One damned accident involving one too-lucky curse, and suddenly you'd think he was five again, with their Harry, be carefuls and their quick Levitating charms ready the instant the potion gives way and his rebelling hands lose hold of whatever's in their grasp.

Notes: Draco’s an artist. Harry’s intrigued by his sculptures and paintings.

-

Snatch (PG-13) by didntyoupotter

Summary: Harry is comatose, Hermione and Ron aren’t much help, and Draco isn’t sure about anything anymore.

Notes: The opening scene fools you into thinking this will be a light read with a streak of good humour. Don’t fall for it. By the third act, you’ll be hanging onto every word and feeling a lot of emotions. Also, back in the day, this was one of the Draco/Harry fics. Everyone knew of it. Pay your respects to your fandom history and read this beloved classic.

-

The Stages of Acceptance (T) by Lomonaaeren.

Summary: Harry, already happily married to Ginny, receives the news that he's Draco's mate. Law and custom don't give him the option of ignoring the news. The stages of his reaction, one by one.

Notes: This is not a romance, and I love that the author just casually chucks all the Veela tropes in the bin and says “nope”. In Lomonaaeren’s own words, this fic is more practical than romantic. Harry is unfamiliar with the Veela concepts and hates the very idea of being “shackled” to someone; he rejects Draco at once. Draco is miserable and lonely. They do eventually come to understand each other better, but it’s a huge struggle with lots of setbacks. The general air of pessimism and misery does make the small glimpses of compassion and empathy feel so well-earned. I love a fic that rations out its happiness.

-

The Stately Homes of Wiltshire (E) by waspabi

Summary: Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case.

Notes: This one needs no introduction. The writing is polished, the characterisation perfect, and the dialogue is fun. I love the humour woven throughout it.

-

Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain (E) by faithwood.

Summary: It always rains for Draco Malfoy. Metaphorically. And literally. Ever since he had accidentally Conjured a cloud. A cloud that's ever so cross.

Notes: Another one that most of us know. It’s a lighthearted and fun read.

-

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow (M) by novembersnow

Summary: In the war-torn years after Hogwarts, one man has no knowledge of his yesterdays.

Notes: Another classic back in the feverish heyday of the Harry Potter fandom, when books were still being released and everyone had worked themselves up into a shipping frenzy. And no wonder this fic was an instant hit. Draco has lost all his memories and Harry’s investigating as an Auror, but the longer you read, the more you start questioning everything. Good twists and turns that lead to a tender ending.

-

Turn by Saras_Girl

Summary: One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

Notes: An inevitable inclusion on any favourites list. I think my favourite thing about it is the characterisation. Everyone is so well-rounded; the characters are brought to life and feel like old friends. All their habits, styles, mannerisms, even the way they walk or talk. While I love everyone in this fic, I have to admit that Blaise is just amazing. Of all the thousands of Blaises imagined by fanfic writers, I love this one the best. “Old bean” indeed.

-

Under the Ivy (PG-13) by coffeejunkii

Summary: It is impressive how much you can learn about someone by simply sharing a few rooms. They don’t spend time together, not really, but Harry still knows that Malfoy prefers raspberry jam over strawberry, that he hums along to the Wireless when he thinks no one is around, and that his leg is bothering him more than usual when the temperatures drop below freezing.

Notes: Another old, old favourite of mine. It’s like snuggling into a soft blanket. Remus owns a cottage and Harry moves in after the war. Later, Remus lets a room to Draco, who is an outcast after the war and has limited housing options. Harry isn’t happy at first with the new lodger, but he eventually warms up to Draco. A slow and gentle romance.

-

Vale Sanare (M) by rurounihime

Summary: Draco’s world gains a new component, just when he thought he’d sorted everything out.

Notes: London nightclubs, one-night-stands, loud music and lonely nights. Draco has seizures due to a curse from the war, and the seizures have led to a fear of intimacy. Short and sweet.

-

The Way Down (T) by lettered

Summary: Malfoy’s all, “Come out of there,” the way you say to a cat who is badly behaved. And Harry’s all like, “No, what, I’m a hermit! And I have a chest-monster! And I am crazy magically powerful!” and Malfoy’s all, “We all have problems, bub.” (thoughtfully) “You are crazy though. I’ll give you that.”

Notes: I just adore this fic. The fic starts well-grounded, giving you a solid backstory and matter-of-fact context, but as it goes on, it slowly unravels into dreamy scenes, lush settings, and repeated motifs. It’s just such a beautiful story.

-

When Love beckons to you, follow him (PG-13) by megyal

Summary: Draco wakes up, lost, somewhere in a forest. He has no idea where he is or how he got there. As he is blundering around trying to find his way home, he hears Harry's voice in his head, telling him what to do.

Notes: I generally like my fics to be bittersweet or with a bit of heartache — but this fic is just a little cloud of softness. If you need something light and lovely without being syrupy-sweet, this is a good choice!

-

The World of the Living (M) by fourth_rose

Summary: A traumatised war hero and a convicted criminal under the roof of an eccentric journalist make for a rather odd ensemble, but Luna has never had a problem with oddities as long as they make sense.

Notes: The story is told from Luna’s perspective, which gives everything a lovely dreamy quality. She takes in a couple of strays after the war — first Harry, who is avoiding his other friends and has quit his Auror job — and then she offers a room to Draco right after his trial. Draco is rude, angry, and ungrateful; Harry is churlish, withdrawn, and moody. Luna doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, and over the course of the next few months, her house guests slowly warm up to each other.

-

Voices From the Fog (E) by noeon

Summary: After years of running away, Harry crosses paths with an all-too familiar face and follows him to Amsterdam.

Notes: Harry drifts across Europe, trying to forget the war. He ends up in a woodworking shop in Amsterdam, alongside a moody Draco. Atmospheric settings and solid characterisation.

[carryonthroughtheages]

Hello everyone!

Another year of Carry On Through The Ages is over and done! We have emotions and exhaustion, but we're so happy that this year had the hype and excitement that it did.

Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts, to all of the AMAZING creators who spent the last several months working away at their historical content!

Thank you also to the hard-working mods: @bazzybelle, @giishu, @palimpsessed, and @xivz . This fest would not have been as successful as it has been without you!

We encourage everyone to look under the page break for all the fics and art. They're all fantastic!

Here is the link to the AO3 Collection: Carry On Through The Ages 2021!

Thank you all, and until next year! 🧡🧡🧡

MONDAY:

1) sun on the sea (T) - @trenchcoat-moth : AO3 // Tumblr

Tensions run high in England, and Malcolm decides it's for the best he sends Baz to live with Fiona, where he'll be safer.

That is, until Baz's ship is attacked.

2) The Words I Long To Say (M) - @bazzybelle : AO3 // Tumblr

Simon Snow was dead.

Baz Pitch was sure of it. Simon had gone away seven years ago to fight a war in the jungle and he hadn't come home.

So, when Simon shows up in Baz's club, investigating a string of brutal murders, all Baz wants to do is hold him close and never let him go.

But these aren't the same boys from 1960 and Baz has a lot of processing to do before he's ready to believe in Simon again.

3) we are slaves to gods, whatever gods are (M) - @wellbelesbian : AO3 // Tumblr

I don’t fully understand what plagues him, but I know it’s bad, and I know it goes deeper than guilt. He didn’t want to kill his father, not really, but we were instructed to do so by Apollo. Cleanse the house of its sins, dispose of a murderer to set things right. It was only right that I join him; he was avenging my mother as much as his. Clearly, Apollo didn’t seem to consider that such an act would make Simon a murderer in his father’s place. It seems I got off fine, but as far as Simon is concerned, the vengeful spirits that once spun and danced on the roof of the palace now hunt him down, determined not to stop until he rids the world of himself.

4) World War II Era Art - @stardustasincocaine : Tumblr

TUESDAY:

1) the art of loving you (E) - @one-more-offbeat-anthem : AO3 // Tumblr

1955. London. Young love.

Forbidden love.

A year ago, starving artist Simon Snow met Baz Pitch, son of a wealthy art patron, at a party, and their days (and nights) together have been a wonderful secret.

But Simon is tired of being a secret and knows it's time for things to end.

(Baz has other ideas.)

2) Reliquary of an Arsonist (T) - @tea-brigade : AO3 // Tumblr

Simon Snow grew up a ward of Watford Abbey, but when his magic manifested in an explosive accident as a child, he became the Abbey’s anchorite—never to leave Watford’s walls, for his own protection. That is, until Abbot David sends him on an important errand…

Basilton Pitch paints portraits for his patron, Lord Grimm. But he’s never forgotten the magic he learned from his mother—nor the men who condemned her to death as a heretic. When Simon arrives and offers Baz a commission from Watford Abbey, he sees his chance to avenge his mother once and for all...and he’s willing to burn down everything in his path to that end.

But it was no coincidence that pulled these two unlikely souls together. Something more sinister is underway at Watford Abbey, and only Simon and Baz can uncover the truth before everything goes up in flames.

3) Westward Son (E) - @aristocratic-otter : AO3 // Tumblr

Simon and Baz have found each other again, but there's nowhere in Brooklyn or Virginia where they can safely be together. So now, they venture the hazards and struggles of the Oregon trail, to perhaps find a little homestead in Oregon of their own.

4) A Way Out (T) - @lying-on-the-sofa : AO3

I frown at him..“You don’t know me.”

He offers his hand. “Simon.”

Simon. I feel the name around in my mind and assign it to his face. Simon. I don’t shake his hand. They’ve still got my arms pinned. “Basilton.”

Simon nods at me. “Now we know each other. Let him go.” Very casually, he takes his other hand from behind his back. A sword, flashing. He leans on it and smiles invitingly. “Let him go.”

This time, they listen.

--

Simon Snow has been trained for years to become a tribute—one of the fighters Athens sends every ninth year into the Minotaur’s labyrinth. He wants to know the way out, if only for Penny’s sake. Luckily for him, Prince Basilton of Crete also wants a way out—off the island, where no one will know he’s the half-brother of the Minotaur.

Unluckily for both of them, they don’t exactly form the most agreeable pair.

WEDNESDAY

1) long is the road the leads me home (G) - @wellbelesbian : AO3 (Version 1) (Version 2) // Tumblr

Baz has a rather unremarkable life, and he's fine with that. Running his late mother's beloved inn with his temperamental aunt, estranged from his father and step-siblings, he's successfully convinced himself that he's better off without attachments.

Then Simon barrels into his life, guns blazing and rapier drawn, and Baz is swept up in dramatic plot he never bargained for.

Worse still, he finds he quite likes the thrill.

2) New Romantics (T) - @ninemagicks : AO3 // Tumblr

Basilton Pitch, twenty-two years old and a famed poet of the Romantic era, has fled to the countryside. In Mummers House, the fabled haunt of literary greats, he sulks himself into oblivion and awaits a sad, disappointing end to his brief years of brilliance. The cause of his downfall? None other than Simon Snow, the so-called “bad boy of English poetry”, breaker of rules and eternal thorn in his side. Baz hopes that Mummers House might mean an escape from London, from Snow and his increasingly virulent popularity... but the rain that comes has other ideas.

3) thnétos (T) - @snowybank : AO3 // Tumblr

thnétos: subject to death, mortal

a retelling of Apollo and Hyacinthus

4) A Medieval AU art piece - @thewriterxj : Tumblr

THURSDAY

1) From Eden (E) - @orange-peony : AO3 // Tumblr

I wonder if his skin is warm or cold to the touch. I tell myself it’s simple curiosity, that I’m an artist and capturing things on paper or canvas is my way to make sense of the world. That drawing him feels so natural, so I should just follow my instincts. Ebb used to say it all the time. Follow your heart. It knows where you’re supposed to go.

I wish I could. I wish I had enough money and freedom to just draw what I want. To paint him in his unattainable beauty. To draw him the way I want to. Naked and vulnerable, raw. Without frills and expensive suits.

Just Baz on paper, my fingers tracing his delicate and beautiful lines with simple charcoal.

2) Slings and Eros (M) - @palimpsessed : AO3 // Tumblr

Young god of love Simonides is tasked by his father, the god of war, to bring about the ruin of a mortal prince to punish his blasphemy. However, once Simonides sees his intended victim, he begins to have misgivings. Prince Tyrannus might have offended the gods with his very existence, but all Simonides can see is how beautiful and lonely he is.

Or, a very loose interpretation of the Eros and Psyche myth.

3) I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire (M) - @knitbelove : AO3 // Tumblr

September 1940: Going back to Watford feels different this year, and not just because England is at the brink of war with Germany and Italy. Penelope seems unsettled by everything, and Agatha is distant, and Baz is … simply not here.

What if Carry On but during the Blitz?? Yeah.

4) A Fool's Oath (M) - @thewriterxj : AO3 // Tumblr

A simple soldier is invited to join the ranks of the royal guard. He and his appointed mage arrive at the royal city to find themselves at the mercy of an unmerciful court. As he struggles to find his place in this foreign environment, he also finds himself entranced by music that only he seems to hear that floats out about the city. He makes an oath to wed whoever makes such beautiful music.

Too bad that person is the crown prince.

FRIDAY

1) Stranger Tides (T) - @tea-brigade & @xivz : AO3 // Tumblr

“If some god shall wreck me in the wine-dark deep, even so I will endure…” Captain Simon Snow of the Chosen One is many things—cunning, handsome, ruthless. Greedy. It’s no surprise that Snow finds a way to piss off the God of the Sea, he always manages to get himself into some type of trouble. This time, however, he’s not the only one who will suffer the consequences. Poseidon promises to not stop his pursuit until Snow and all of his men are dead.

Enter Basilton Pitch—rich, beautiful, mysterious. Suspicious. He offers the crew of the Chosen One a hefty sum to take him back to Europe from the Caribbean. And who is Captain Snow to refuse so much coin? After all, Greek gods aren’t real.

Right?

2) The wayward heir [comic] (M) - @letraspal : AO3 // Tumblr

Like a folk song, our love will be passed on. Simon Snow wants to be an artist. He used to live in Fiesole where he worked in the wool shop of his good friend Ebeneza Petty. He has now chosen to return to his native Florence in order to participate in an art contest hosted by the Pitch family, the most important bankers in all the three continents and Simon’s last chance for an art patronage. No matter how much he hates them.

But being back in Florence also brings back the memories Simon wanted to leave behind : his days as an orphan, the mystery about his mother, and once more being under the inquisitive eyes of his godfather, the new archbishop Davy. The archbishop is very same man who would never forgive him for dropping out the priesthood and ruining his secret plans against the Pitches.

The last thing Simon needed was an unbearably handsome jerk getting him into trouble on his very first day in Florence. How can focus when this man is the most annoying person he has ever met and yet his major source of inspiration.

3) Prohibition Blues (T) - @heyyyandrea : AO3

Simon Snow is a baker and aspiring playwright in Prohibition Era New York City. When he meets a handsome man at Shepherd's speakeasy who is interested in his work, he can't help but think it feels too good to be true.

4) Earth Below & Sky Above (M) - @phoxphyre : AO3 // Tumblr

In the depth of the palace of King Minos of Crete lurks a creature known as the Minotaur.

Baz, prince of Athens and chosen of the god Poseidon, has heard the stories. And now he’s volunteered to come to Crete as one of the annual tributes—to dance with the king’s bulls and fulfill his destiny. He just wants to survive the bulls, protect his people, and go home.

But what if the Minotaur isn’t a monster—but just a boy? And what if instead of slaying him, Baz fell in love with him?

A Carry On retelling of the myth of Theseus and the Minotaur, set in Bronze Age Crete.

5) A 1980s AU Art piece by @stardustasincocaine : Tumblr // Instagram (Slightly NSFW)

[paradisetemporarilymisplaced]

Fave 1D fics?

Hello! This was very fun to put together and I really enjoyed my journey down memory lane in doing so🤗 Full disclosure, this list is all fics from 2016 or earlier bc I stopped regularly reading fic around then, but these are my very favorites. These are all either AO3 or PDF links because some have been deleted, and I'm sure I'm missing some (it's hard to keep track when so many have been deleted and my AO3 bookmarks are not as comprehensive as they could be). Happy reading, friend!

Wear It Like A Crown (zarah5, 141k, E): The first fic I ever read in this fandom and it remains my very favorite to this day! Royalty AU in which Louis is part of a team of PR fixers hired by the royal family to spin a photo of Prince Harry getting some with his bestie, Zayn. Enemies (ish) to friends to lovers, grand gestures, tragic backstory, and remarkably well-written communication issues. Zarah is one of the most beloved fandom authors and has written some classics, but this one is my personal favorite.

These Inconvenient Fireworks (mdasch & everydaysalike, 190k, E): The OG fandom classic for a reason. Louis is a drama teacher and Harry, an aspiring photographer, starts coaching soccer football at the same school part-time. Friends with benefits ensue, but there's a lot of angst as they try to figure out what the fuck they're doing and what they really are to each other. Major OT5 feels, funny as hell, heartbreaking - it's everything you want in a fic.

Allies in Heaven, Comrades in Hell (rockinaintnowalkinthepark, 265k, E): Catholic school AU. God, this one just punches you in the dick. I love it so fucking much. Louis and Harry are classmates and Louis realizes he's really into Harry. Unfortunately, his father is violently homophobic, and when he and Harry get together, he's terrified of the possible consequences. Major warnings for violence and homophobia, so if that's not your cup of tea you might want to stay away. I however am a sucker for angst with a happy ending and this fic delivers.

And Down the Long and Silent Street (whimsicule, 89k, M): THIS! FIC! God. I love it so much. Historical AU - Victorian England. Louis is selling newspapers on the London streets when he crosses paths with Harry, a wealthy young gentleman. They start an affair and fall in love, but unfortunately, a serial killer on the London streets is targeting poor young men - in particular, as it turns out, Louis - which complicates things. Plotty, heavy on the hurt/comfort, and keeps you on the very edge of your seat. I reread this one all the time.

Pull Me Under (zarah5, 140k, E): Another Zarah fic and also incredible. This one features Louis as a professional footballer trying to navigate coming out. Liam is Louis' agent, who suggests he be in a long-term relationship to ease the coming out process. Luckily, Liam's boyfriend Zayn has a friend named Harry who'd be perfect as the fake boyfriend. Fake relationship ensues. Beautifully written, also a classic.

Butterfly Gun (eravain, 100k, M): 1940s AU, set around WWII. In 1940, Harry and Gemma were evacuated from London to stay at the Tomlinson farm. Harry and Louis become friends, but as they grow up and learn more about themselves, there's the possibility for something more - except Louis' grandpa is a dick. Harry and Gemma are sent to another home to stay, and after the war, Harry goes back to see Louis in an attempt to rekindle their relationship and see what's actually there. Beautifully written and clenches your heart in the best way.

Coax the Cold (mediawhore, 86k, M): Another Victorian AU, this one featuring professor!Louis, whose focus on the supernatural has resulted in professional ridicule. He stumbles across ads for a circus sideshow that supposedly has a mermaid, so he goes undercover as an employee to obtain proof of the mermaid's existence. He definitely obtains proof, but his goal shifts as he gets to know said mermaid (Harry, obviously) and instead of proving his existence, he needs to free him and keep his secret to protect him.

College AU series (whoknows, 75k, E): This is a two-fic series that's just fun. In part 1, Harry and Louis are in an epic prank war - well, at least Louis is engaged in a prank war, while Harry calmly retaliates. Louis is a fucking menace in this one which I just adore. Dialogue is NEXT LEVEL. Friends with benefits (or at least, that's what Louis thinks it is) that (obviously) becomes a relationship (which is what Harry has thought it was the whole time). The last scene (before the epilogue) is one of my favorites in any fic. Part 2 is pretty much more of the same - sex, banter, and planning for the future.

Give Me Truths (iwillpaintasongforlou, 110k, E): This fic HAS. IT. ALL. College AU! Hurt/comfort! Punk, confident, psych major Louis! Sad Harry! I just! Love it! In this fic, Harry is in an abusive relationship and Louis helps him gather the strength to leave his abuser. In the process, they end up falling in love, and Louis helps Harry regain his confidence and self-esteem. I love this one especially because it was written at a time when the common fic trope was that Louis hates himself and Harry is the manic pixie dream girl who makes it better, so the role reversal in this fic was very refreshing. But it's also just such a good story and so well-written. (And again. PUNK LOUIS.)

Relief Next to Me (dolce_piccante, 333k, E): Okay. This fic is a MONSTER. It's really just 333k words of slice of life as baker!Harry and graphic designer!Louis become friends with benefits and then fall in love. I read this as a WIP (which I rarely do) just because there's barely a plot, they're just having a great time living life and having sex. Chapter 17 in particular is my comfort reread, I just love it SO MUCH.

Love Is a Word, You Gave It a Name (hattalove, 21k, T): Pure fluff, canon compliant. It's Christmas time and the boys are celebrating with their families and each other and getting ready to take a major step in their relationship - that is, publicly coming out. OT5 and family feels all over the place. This fic just gives you such warm and fuzzy feelings and I always smile the whole way through reading it. Also features a reunion with Louis' infamous geography teacher and also him being jealous of Ed Sheeran's cat.

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can't Lose (dolce_piccante, 113k, E): College AU in which Harry is an (American) football star for a Texas university and Louis is a dancer at the same school. In everyone's favorite 90s teen flick trope, Harry's friends bet that he can't get Louis to fall in love with him. You can guess how this plays out. It's very fun and especially good to reread during college football season.

[regina-del-cielo]

Immortal Siblings AU | Four, then three, then four again

I mentioned that the bulletpoint post describing how the Guard from the Immortal Siblings AU found Joe had totally run away from me. It has, in fact, become a study on them grieving over Lykon and then finding Yusuf. 

I have, somehow, reached a sort of natural end to the amount of bullshit my mind can add to this list/fic draft. So, if you want to give it a read... grab a snack. It’s long. I’m sorry.

Warnings for Wikipedia levels of historical accuracy - I added links to the relevant pages when quoting historical events, but since I was just trying to work out a timeline (famous last words), the research wasn’t extensive. There’s a lot of hand-waving.

By the end of the 11th Century, I think Andy, Quynh and Nico haven’t been in Europe for a while, not really. They moved south, and then east, after the sack of Rome of 410 CE. Seeing the great cities fall has become hard for them, especially for Nico, who is a nomad at heart but has a soft spot for cities, together with Lykon, the true city boy in the group. He’d seen it happen to Athens, he wasn’t sure he could deal with seeing Rome wilt.

For reasons I cannot fathom, my mind is settled on them having been in India when Lykon dies (possibly sometime around the middle of the 6th century, in the mess that was the crumbling of the Gupta Empire???)

Seeing him die destroys them, and they take a break from any battlefield to grieve their friend and brother. They wander, occasionally helping but almost never raising their weapons, too leery of injuries and of losing each other.

(Quynh, who was the first to notice Lykon’s wounds, has nightmares that make her cry in her sleep. Andromache holds her so tight Nico can feel the tension on her muscles against his back. He and his sister barely sleep, scared of the open spaces of Asia as they’d never been before. Lykon was the youngest of them and he died, what if they stop healing too?)

(If Nico stands guard over his sisters and feels an ache in his chest seeing how they hold onto each other, he’s never going to say it out loud. His Mache deserves the love she shares with Quynh. But sometimes he wishes he had someone to hold him like that, one he can call his heart.)

The first time they go to battle again like in the old days it’s almost the end of the 10th century, and they’re helping Quynh’s lands gain independence from China. They have a reason and a specific side to root for, and it’s the kind of cause Lykon would have approved of. They find purpose again.

They are distantly aware of how things are holding up in the west – they know Constantinople has crowned itself capital of the Roman Empire (what is left of it anyway); they know of the new religion, Islam, and how it was brought further east with the armies conquering Persia. They met the Varangians on the Northern Plains of the Rus’, when Andy insisted on going back to their steppes for a while.

They acquire new swords, repair the old weapons, make improvements on their bows. They travel, and help, and listen. They learn new languages. They heal.

They’ve just spent the winter in Samarkand when they hear merchants newly come from Constantinople talk about the Frankish armies that took Antioch and making their way further into Palestine. 

The words ‘freeing Jerusalem from the infidels’ make Andy sigh in exasperation and twist Nico’s guts. The three of them don’t really understand the point of going to war for a god, but Jerusalem is old, and she’s been coveted by many throughout their long lives. Things like this never end well, they know it intimately.

But they’ve been away for a long time, centuries at this point. Things are very different from when the Romans had the power. They are less eager to throw themselves into the battlefield now, and there’s much they don’t know about the dynamics of Europe and the Levant. Still they’re worried, and decide that they’ll move west to see if something can be done, for the civilians at least.

At first they travel slowly, keeping an ear out for gossip spoken by the caravans coming from the west. Things radically change, however, when they dream of a new immortal (a man, with a curly black beard and shining dark eyes) dying on the walls of Jerusalem and reviving to an unprecedented slaughter – said man is, obviously, absolutely terrified and they feel it.

He’s also woken up surrounded by living enemies, with high risk of being killed or injured multiple times, and of being seen.

They are still too far away to do anything more than hope that the new guy is clever enough to keep himself alive until they can reach him, but now Nico is all for moving west at full speed to get him out.

“What the everloving FUCK is happening over there?!” is the common theme in their thoughts; nothing about this war they’re walking towards is making any sense.

Yusuf al-Kaysani is, in fact, clever enough to keep himself (and a few other civilians to boot) alive and get out of Jerusalem when it becomes clear than no matter how many Franks he kills he can do nothing to stop them alone. (It’s a fucking carnage, and he’s so tired). He walks away from the battle and tries to reach some sort of safety in the desert.

When he’d decided to stay in Jerusalem and fight instead of escaping the siege, Yusuf had considered the possibility of dying. He had not accounted for waking up from a fatal wound with no sign of having been hit in the first place.

And then there are the visions. Or dreams, he’s not sure. They don’t seem to make any sense? Who are those people?! Is his mind so addled by the war that he’s conjuring scary warrior women and a stupidly handsome man, armed to the teeth and camping in the desert?

(fantasizing about handsome men in his sleep isn’t exactly news for him, but there were never women in those. And none of his usual dreams involved weapons. Something is definitely off)

For the following days, Yusuf makes sure to stay away from human settlements while putting as much space as possible between Jerusalem and himself – the last thing he needs is to become a potential target for any invader that may cross his path.

But he’s alone, having nightmares, constantly on edge, and in a body that suddenly doesn’t feel like his own anymore, since he doesn’t even have the scars to prove that the injuries he sustained were real to begin with.

After a couple of weeks, the appearance of the strangers in his dreams starts feeling safe and comforting; they seem to operate like a little family, and God knows how much he misses his own.

(should he try to go back home? Would news of the siege reach his family before he does? Would he be able to go back to his previous life in the state he’s in? Could he keep this secret from them? Would they still love him or think him a monster?)

Despite their impressive warrior appearance, they feel... kind. And gentle. Sometimes, it feels like they’re trying to reassure him, even. Especially when he dreams from the perspective of the man.

The sensation those dreams leave on his skin is like a cape. You’re not alone, it whispers. Wait for us.

Andy, Quynh and Nico have just left Baghdad when the dreams change, and not for the better - Yusuf was passing through a village when a band of marauding Franks started harassing the locals. He moved to defend the villagers, but was overwhelmed and what’s worse, the Franks saw his wounds close too fast. Their reaction was vehement: they called him a demon, incapacitated him and then brought him back to their garrison, with every intention of ‘properly getting rid of him’.

Nico wakes up screaming and Andy has to sit on him so he doesn’t just sprint ahead without actually knowing where the fuck he’s going.

“We can’t just raid every single Frankish encampment in a twenty mile radius around Jerusalem, Nico!” “TRY ME” *Aggressive Sibling Bickering follows* *Quynh doesn’t bat an eye and just rolls out a map of the area she purchased and starts mapping out the fastest routes*

Yusuf is having a Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week at the hands of his captors, who are getting disturbingly creative in their tortures, but whenever they let him fall unconscious he sees the people of his dreams travelling much faster than before, looking Royally Pissed Off, and the surroundings are... starting to look familiar too? 

If he tries to pay more attention to the conversations his torturers are having with each other outside of the tent he’s in and hoping the dreams go both ways, so the maybe-real trio can find him easier, now that’s nobody’s business but his own.

(spoiler: it works)

When they are in sight of Jerusalem, the immortals find a drunk “pilgrim” boasting about his band capturing a ‘pagan demon’ while coming back from their victory at Ascalon, follow him back to his camp, and as soon as it’s feasible they attack.

(Andy will later gripe that Nico didn’t leave her anything to do because he just paved his way through the Franks like he was harvesting wheat.)

seeing the Stupidly Handsome Man of his dreams standing in front of him covered head to toe in blood, with a double-bladed axe in one hand and a sword in the other, staring intensely at him as if to peer directly into his soul is... an experience for Yusuf.

(he may have composed a lot of poems about that first vision of Nico through the centuries. The words ‘avenging angel’ have been used quite profusely, too)

The protective instinct that Nico has felt for the newest immortal since the first dream clutches at his throat when he finally sees him, chained to a pole and so thin his clothes barely cling to his body, but with the softest dark eyes staring back with a glint of recognition when he comes closer.

(he could cry with relief at the knowledge that he’s not scared of him. Nico has seen the faces of the men that were keeping him captive, he knows he looks a lot like they did, and that he paints a gruesome picture.)

“Are you alright?” Nico asks first, in Greek. (He knows, from the dreams, that his captors prayed in Latin. He wants to make sure that the other knows that he’s not like them.)

“You were in my dreams. You came.” Yusuf answers back in the same language, although his sounds much newer than Nico’s.

“Of course. We’re not meant to be alone… and no one deserves to be in a cage”.

Nico uses the axe to break the chains, and by the time he’s done Andy and Quynh have reached them and his sister throws the keys at him to open the shackles.

“Couldn’t take a moment to get them yourself, little eagle? You wanted to show off your skills to the new one?” Quynh teases, just to see Nico blush. Andy stares at her brother and their new companion for a few beats, before finally asking his name.

“Yusuf ibn Ibrahim ibn Muhammad Al-Kaysani, known as al-Tayyib” he answers, letting out the first smile in weeks at the raising eyebrows of his saviours. “Just Yusuf is fine.”

“You have a sense of humour, brother. I like you!” Andy snorts, before cutting her palm with the edge of her axe, and showing him her fast healing.

“We are like you, Yusuf. That’s why you dreamt of us, and we of you” Nico adds gently, while Quynh offers her waterskin to Yusuf. They also offer their own names.

“We need to clean up this mess and move away from here” Andy says, while Nico helps Yusuf up. “One of those fuckers was boasting about an undying demon with others in a tavern, the last thing we need is to fight our way out against their whole army because someone else decided to come check if he was saying the truth.”

“It’s been a long time since we were in Kush” Quynh whispers, and Yusuf sees their faces open in a look of affectionate grief he remembers seeing on his Baba’s eyes when he talked about his own mother.

“We can talk about it more when we’re somewhere safer” Andromache suggests, before moving to set up the stage of an ‘accidental’ fire.

As they’re riding away, Yusuf turns slightly to watch the camp burn, leaving no trace of the invaders that hurt him. Jerusalem looms in the distance - lost, and wounded. If he were a little less exhausted, he could  easily work out a metaphor about his own situation.

But then he looks at the three people of his dreams – Quynh, Andromache, Nikolaos – that came for him. Who are the same as him, immortal.

His world has turned upside down, and there are so many questions to ask, and he could sleep for a month straight – but one thing is certain. 

He’s not alone anymore.

[ellasadventuresinfandoms]

Okay, back in May @isolatedphenomenon asked me if I had an les mis fic recs and I went "oh boy do I !" and then promptly fucked off and disappeared from tumblr for like 6 months...

Anyway on the off chance people are interested, here is my vastly too long list of  my favourite les mis fanfic (that I'm almost 100% sure I'll have accidentally missed some of my favourites off of...)

The vast majority of these are main pairing Enjolras/Grantaire, so I've put those first, divided into multi-chaptered and then one-shots. Below that will be other pairings!

Multi-chaptered

• Witch Boy Series : magic AU, starting with Grantaire solving Enjolras' curse - this is just Incredible world building which gets better as it goes on - my favourite is the Babet interlude

• World Ain't Ready : you know how fandoms tend to have a fic that is just associated with it ? in my experience, for les mis this is it - and well deserved ! High school, fake dating AU with some of the most engaging writing

• BE : Enjolras is dragged back into theatre production, helping Eponine put on a production of Hamlet - really love the characterisation in this, and this is really one of those modern AUs that actually feels like real life - really good writing

• After the End : the definitive apocalypse AU in my eyes - les amis are an underground resistance to the dystopian government - really wonderful characterisation of Grantaire and the amis

• You never have to wonder; you never have to ask. : I tend to find fic by scrolling through bookmarks of a pairing, which means I often see repeats; this is a fic that if I see I just re-read cause I know I'll enjoy it - the amis sparked a failed rebellion, and now 18 months later Grantaire ends up staying at Enjolras' after returning to Paris for Marius and Cosette's wedding

• Your Heart on Your Skin : Soulmate AU with flower tattoos marking important emotions and events - wonderful concept and world building 

• Impatient to Be Free : Daughters of Bilitis AU - if that doesn't make you excited I don't know what else to say to convince you (aside from saying the author is a simply wonderful writer)

• You Dance Dreams : Okay. Not to be over dramatic, but this fic did genuinely qualitatively change my life, in that it was the first thing that got me looking up contemporary ballet and now that's like one of my favourite things and big hobby So. Also its really great writing; music/creative arts school les amis with Grantaire choreohraphing the ballet for Combeferre's opera, with a heavy emphasis on Grantaire realising he really never actually got over Enjolras

• philia : this one is an absolute classic to me, but not given nearly enough recognition - one of the more realistic college AUs ever written, and the writing of Grantaire is so good because it hits the perfect balance of sympathy and annoyance about his behaviour (that's a genuine compliment) 

• Coffee Hooligans : fucking tragedy this never got properly finished, Enjolras leads the amis as social justice vigilantes and tries to hide the criminal bits of his life from R

• Fighting the Hurricane : Pacific Rim AU that's less an AU and more just placing the les mis characters in the Pacific Rim universe. Really good and riveting read, also super interesting depiction of Grantaire

• Weaving Olden Dances : Fairy AU - Grantaire "claims" Enjolras to prevent his execution - really good writing, love Grantaires characterisation 

• Paris Burning : canon era (sort of) where cities have a physical being - Grantaire is Paris and becomes entangled in Enjolras' revolution - oh the world building is truly *chefs kiss*

• Euphoria is You For Me : Enjolras and Grantaire keep meet cuting in a wonderfully written Brooklyn - feels like a love letter to Brooklyn at times, and I really like the characterisation of Grantaire 

• so please just fall in love with me this christmas : Enjolras works for the environmental company Grantaire volunteers at, and keeps getting secret gifts at Christmas - I sound a little like a broken record but the Grantaire characterisation is very good

• You Are the Moon : Wild West esque Space AU - Grantaire has to call on the amis to help rescue Valjean and Cosette, despite Grantaire leaving the amis 6 months before. On re-reading the Enjolras characterisation feels a little rushed, but overall fantastic story telling and the Grantaire arc is a Delight 

• Pandemos : Enjolras is aphrodite, and seeks peace from all his suitors in R/Hephestus' cave

• Pining for You : Hallmark christmas romance - Grantaire returns home to work on his father's tree farm, and Enjolras is the lawyer helping prevent the farm being sold - cute as shit imo

• Once We're Kings : Fantasy AU - a country hosts a ball to marry Prince Enjolras and the rival country sends Grantaire as a fuck you - one of the best ways of doing Enjolras as a prince in a fantasy and just really nicely written

• Never Bitter and All Delicious : Fairy Godmother AU - yes really, yes its genuinely a very good read

• On One Condition : Fantasy AU - Enjolras is a bored knight who finally goes to check out the local dragon, which turns out to be Grantaire - I really like how they capture Enjolras' stubborn nature and it's such a well written soft growth of love between them

• That's How Easy Love Can Be : Les Amis work at a primary school; and its secret santa time! very fun portrayal of Enjolras

• The Lark and Her Lieutenants : re write of canon where Cosette is the leader of the revolution - just *chefs kiss*

• If You Tickle Us, Do We Not Laugh : Grantaire is Enjolras' secret android - really good at writing a relationship that's incredibly loving but just keeps being antagonistic and coming off wrong 

One Shots

• True Colours : AU where you leave colours on the people important to you - Enjolras and Grantaire falling for each other is so soft and gently written its lovely, this is genuinely one of my favourites

• Keep It Kind, Keep It Good, Keep It Right : this one is so good to me, because it builds off my pet hatred of everyone assuming Enjolras doesn't care about (or at least actively show he cares about) his friends

• blooming : very soft post-dystopian utopia that has just a really wonderful sense of hope and light to me

• and the wall leaned away (or: The Pros and Cons of Tilling) : perfectly realised characterizations of the amis, Grantaire needs a date to her final year art exhibition - deals with anxiety over protest in a way that actually hits for me

• not just one of the crowd : R helps run a leftist bakery and bike repair shop - very cute characterisation, and I think more les mis fanfic should link to anarchist essays

• Lovesickness : Enjolras is an idiot and thinks he's sick rather than having a crush - the writing of Joly and Combeferre in this is some of my favourite depictions of these two

• If there's a rocket, tie me to it : absolutely heartbreaking sci-fi AU about the amis as doomed mecha pilots

• Where I Fall is Where I Land : Enjolras is a Roman commander as Rome's power is leaving England, and then meets the pict Grantaire (+ fun soulmark stuff !)

• You Started Foreign to Me : Enjolras moves to america and R is the overnight grocery clerk who helps her learn Spanish - cute fluffy lesbians with a wonderfully written driven Enjolras

• Love Is Touching Souls : very cute soulmate AU - and one I really love for really truly considering the implications of soul marks and creating historical lore around it

• Ten Years : R is a musician, and it non-linearly charts his relationship to Enj from high school to 10 years later

• put up with me then I'll make you see : Grantaire lives above Enjolras, and its christmas - I find it to have a very fun interpretation of pining Enjolras

• A Cat Called Trash Can : this was one of the first les mis fics I ever read (yes I know it says it was published in 2020, but I think it has to be a re-upload or something?) and it does still have a special place in my heart - Grantaire rescues a cat, but Enjolras is the only one with an apartment free to look after it 

• Still I'm Begging to Be Free : inception AU where les amis have to rescue a sleeping R from his own brain

•I'm in it for You : cw: illness, cancer - R has cancer and is being a martyr about telling his friends so Enjolras drives him back from chemo

• walls come tumbling down : sky high au - a very good high school AU with the perfect level of campy superhero powers

• This brave new world's not like yesterday : Enjolras needs a job, so ends up working in a bowling alley with Grantaire and bonding

Enjolras/Grantaire/Combeferre

• In Defiance of All Geometry : les amis are a student co-op house, Enjolras and Combeferre are pining friends and Grantaire is the newbie

• Still the Same : this is very good writing and very compelling - if you can get over the (imo) plot hole of Enjolras working for the FBI. R was an art thief Enj put away and is briefly helping the FBI out, and Combeferre is Enjolras' husband

• To Kingdom Come : cw: war and PTSD from that, Enjolras and Combeferre are part of a group of refugees that have crossed into a more fantasy land, and Grantaire is a lone traveller from that land that attempts to help - that was a shit summary of this very emotional, wonderfully written fic about war and love in all forms

• Gonna need (a spark to ignite) : I always love a twist on a classic trope, and this is a very fun take on the soulmate AU - Enjolras loses feeling in his soul mark as a child, falls in love with Grantaire and then his soulmate, Combeferre, turns up

Eponine/Cosette

• Pretty Girls Don't Know the Things That I Know : simply stunning writing - perfect example of soft writing about a harsh world

• she knows her way around : Eponine and Cosette bond, ostensibly so Eponine can find out about her for Marius, and their interactions are so playful and realistic, its wonderful

• always find me floating on oceans : Cosette stows away on Eponine's pirate ship - I do always have a soft spot for eposette fics (not just cause I ship it) because they truly characterise Cosette in a really considered and interesting way

• There's No Making Love : I'm putting this under eposette even though there is some significant enjolras/grantaire content, because the Cosette characterisation is so fun and cute

• round and round again : this fic really beautifully translates Cosette's bad childhood and then isolated teenage years, and the impact that would have on her as an adult into a modern AU

• Underwater Thunderheards : this is based off the book The Scorpio Races, and is just a really nice short fic  about longing

• How To Change The World Without Taking Power : Marius has a crush on Cosette and she's tried being polite and subtle in turning him down, so just ends up fake dating Eponine instead

• blood red fruit and poison's kiss : Snow White AU - Cosette as Snow White

• The Winters Cannot Fade Her : Snow White Au 2.0 - Eponine as Snow White - this was written as a pair to the one above which is just so cute to me

• marriage à la mode : Cosette and Eponine run a bridal shop together and it's very cute !

• Temporary Hold : I personally find this a really fun and very unique take on Cosette - with exams coming up she decides she needs to get laid on the reg and so hits up Eponine to act as if they're already long term girlfriends

Combeferre/Courfeyrac

• better than you had it : fake dating but kick it up an emotional notch - Courf and Ferre pretend to still be together after breaking up for a family event

• take flight, come near : nice and cute low fantasy, where Combeferre runs a dragon sanctuary and Courf finds an injured dragon

Rare Pairs

• The Future's Owned by You and Me : cute Enjolras/Feuilly with actual radical politics and real life organising difficulties and wins

• First Dates and Other Dangers : Combeferre and Grantaire agree to go on a blind date and it's awkward until it isn't - just cute !

• after midnight : Combeferre has insomnia and meets Grantaire in various all night fast food chains

• as you are : Bahorel and Jehan getting ready together

• Almost Romantic : Jehan works at a museum, and takes Combeferre on a little tour

• Understudy : Jehan/Combeferre, with Combeferre's insecurities regarding being seen as second best to Enjolras

• Here There Be Dragons : Courf/Enj/Ferre - Courf and Enj are superheroes and Ferre is the doctor that patches them up

• To Let it Occur (Laisser Faire la Nature) : Feuilly has a stupidly long stopover in Paris and meets Enjolras

• rule of three : Courf/Enj/Ferre as spies and loving boyfriends

• Good Rhetoric : snapshots of cute cuddly courf/enj/ferre

• subluxate, dislocate, replace : found family and chronic illness with Joly/Bossuet/Musichetta

• Strike stone, strike home (like lightning) : so this fic took one minor piece of lore about Tolkien's dwarves and made a beautiful j/b/m fic from it

• Almost Inevitable : Bahorel/Feuilly friends-with-benefits

• god only knows (what I'd be without you) : Bahorel/Feuilly with a closeted Feuilly and a beautiful Feuilly and Eponine friendship

[fuckit-hero-of-trains]

Close Encounters of the Fourth Kind

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24936943

Made for the LU Art and Writing exchange for susmarie! Hope you enjoy!

Summary: It was routine by now. They would split up into groups of two and scope out the village in search of this kingdom's hero. As per their earlier conversation, Warriors and Twilight would be taking the upper part of town while Legend and Sky were taking the lower sector. Time and Wind, meanwhile, would be searching through historical records in the library while Hyrule and Wild would be trying to get information out of the town guards. Like Hyrule said. It was a simple plan. A foolproof one, if he did say so himself. Afterall, they hadn't failed to find a hero yet. They would probably find the new hero within the hour! Or: A “Four is the last to join” fic

Hyrule would usually consider himself to be a pessimist.

Actually, pessimist isn’t quite the word he’s looking for… Realist! Hyrule would usually consider himself to be a realist.

In his world, one could not afford to be anything but a realist. Optimistic thoughts were usually reserved for kids who had not yet been exposed to the world. A single mistake, a single toe out of line, could spell doom. And getting too comfortable was practically a death sentence.

That wasn't to say his world was terrible! Hyrule loved his home and the hardy but kind people that lived in it. It just meant that, to Hyrule, the phrase ‘too good to be true’ was a statement that was proven to be correct more often than not. So he had learned to eye things that appeared simple and happy and pure with more than a little bit of skepticism.

And yet, despite all of that, even he had to admit that this version of his beloved kingdom was absolutely adorable.

This Hyrule was still obviously a very young kingdom. Not as young as Sky’s–which was little more than a handful of houses around a statue, an idea in the mind of a determined young woman– but still young.

The castle was beautiful but small, it's spires barely brushing the sky that would later be pierced by the sprawling towers of the castles in Time and Twilight’s eras. Castle Town, or Hyrule Town as the guard had said, was little more than a village enclosed by cobblestone walls. It was larger than most of the towns in Hyrule’s kingdom, but small compared to Legend ’s Kakariko or even the Windfall Island of Wind’s Great Sea.

Yet, while small, the traveling hero could see how Hyrule Town was truly alive. People bustled in and out of their small but warm looking cottages, carrying on conversations with loved ones or hurrying with empty baskets to the center of town where a pop-up market was in full swing. Children darted between the sea of legs, giggling and chasing one another or the cuccos that strutted over the cobblestone.

There was something just so… wholesome about the kingdom that simultaneously drew the traveling hero in and set him on edge.  He wanted to join the mass of citizens, wanted to follow the stream of people down into the market. And at the same time, the sheer amount of people, the sheer amount of noise, the enclosing cobblestone walls had his eyes flicking to and fro, searching for danger.

It was like anticipation whiplash.

But thankfully, Hyrule didn't have to dwell on it long.

“Okay, is everyone clear about the plan?” Time asks, turning to address the group, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the din of the nearby crowd.

The eldest hero is met with several nods and one particularly strong eye roll from Legend.

Which Hyrule kinda gets. It was, after all, a very simple plan. They had used it for pretty much every new Hyrule they had encountered.

It was routine by now. They would split up into groups of two and scope out the village in search of this kingdom's hero. As per their earlier conversation, Warriors and Twilight would be taking the upper part of town while Legend and Sky were taking the lower sector. Time and Wind, meanwhile, would be searching through historical records in the library while Hyrule and Wild would be trying to get information out of the town guards.

Like Hyrule said. It was a simple plan. A foolproof one, if he did say so himself. Afterall, they hadn't failed to find a hero yet. They would probably find the new hero within the hour!

“Good,” The Old Man says with a nod of his head, pointedly ignoring Legend’s exasperation.  “Remember to meet back here at noon with any information you can get. There is a bell in the center of town that should ring the hour.”

“Don’t be late,” Twilight adds, narrowed eye landing on Wild and then Hyrule in turn. They grin at him, the picture of innocence. He narrows his eyes even further.

Then, without anything more to discuss, the other heroes set off two by two; Twilight and Warriors heading up the stairs while Sky and Legend join the tide of people toward the market. Time practically has to drag Wind along with him, the sailor not so pleased that his pair was checking out the library.

Soon enough, only Wild and Hyrule are left standing by the quietly bubbling fountain.

“So,” Hyruel says, turning to grin at his friend, “I’m assuming we’re gonna be late.”

“Oh, you know it,” Wild replies with a smile.

The two high five and then dive headfirst into the river of people.

…

Twilight finds trying to gather information with Warriors to be an exercise in patience. A lot of patience.

The problem isn't that they don't get any information. No. Quite the opposite, actually. The problem lies in the fact that Warriors has a tendency to be chatty on the best of days and a goddess damned gossip on the worst. The captain could get the dirt on one lizalfos from another lizalfos if the monsters weren't trying to kill him the whole time. And in a town this small, where everyone knew everyone by name, there was a lot of gossip to wade through.

Some of it was useful: apparently the hero of this kingdom was a blacksmith named Link– typical– who, according to at least one very ardent house wife, was spending far more time at the castle than he had before.

However, besides his name, occupation, and apparent interest in the princess, no one could agree on anything about the kid. Everything else about him was apparently fair game for gossip.

The hero had gone on one, no, two, no, three adventures. He was approachable but cold but sweet but hot headed. He was kind but a little bit… off, driven crazy by his adventures, no, it was his blade, no, why would he still have it if it drove him crazy?

He was twelve and twenty two and part minish– whatever that was– but lived with his grandfather, no, just his father, no wait…And could be seemingly everywhere at once one moment and then nowhere at all the next.

Basically, no one could agree on who or what the kid was. It was giving Twilight a headache.

Thankfully, however, they come to learn that the hero spent most of his time running a forge outside of town, giving Twilight the excuse he needed to drag Warriors away from the group of busybodies he had accred in his search for knowledge.

“You know,” the captain says, grumbling through the winning smile he was throwing over his shoulder at his new best friends, “You could stand to be a little bit more personable.”

“I think you’re personable enough for the both of us,” Twilight grumbles back, giving his companion a hard yank forward on his scarf.

Warriors quickly adopts an affronted look; hand on heart, mouth open, eyes blinking in mock confusion, the whole nine yards.

“And what, may I ask, is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I– what the…?”

Something rough yet soft gently smacks against Twilight’s nose, cutting off whatever snarky remark he was about to throw Warriors’ way. With a small backstep, the farm hand gets a better look at his attacker.

It’s the frayed end of a thick rope hanging down from the roof of the house they had been walking next to. It sways lightly in the light breeze, swinging at the perfect height to hit Twilight directly in the face. With inquisitive eyes, the farm hand traces the cord from the roof,up past where it must be connected, wondering at how it got there.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” a young voice says before Twilight can investigate much further, dragging his attention down to a young man in a red tunic. The kid looks pretty distressed, brows drawn, mouth trembling, and big amber eyes full of unshed tears.

“See, I was flying my kite earlier when this big breeze came and pulled the rope out of my hand and got my kite caught on the roof of this house but I can't get it down by myself and it's not my kite– oh Farore, my brother is gonna kill me!– and–and–!”

“Whoa, kid,” Twilight says, cutting off the boy before he can work himself into a tizzy. He kneels down, bringing himself eye level with the now crying child, setting a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It's going to be okay. I’ll get your kite down.”

“R-really?” The boy sniffs, wiping at his eyes with the undershirt of his tunic.

“Really,” Twilight replies with a reassuring smile.

Without further ado, the farmhand straightens and takes hold of the rope, giving it a few experimental tugs. Nothing budges. He gives it a few harsher pulls. Still nothing.

Hmm, a bit more stuck than he thought.

“Maybe stand back a little bit,” Twilight says, shooing the kid back a bit. “It might be caught on some tiles and I don’t want you getting hit if a few shingles come loose.”

The kid nods with a watery smile, skipping a few steps away.

Getting himself into a better stance–feet firm and spread apart– Twilight takes ahold of the rope and yanks. Something above gives with a slight groan, the rope loosening, falling in the farm hand’s direction.. Twilight looks up, ready to catch the kite–

Only to catch approximately a million water balloons with his face.

One by one, the little water bombs smack into the farmhand’s absolutely shell shocked face, exploding with sharp little cracks and pops. In less than a second, the farmhand is soaked head to toe. And for a second he just stands there, looking like a stupid drowned rat, pelt heavy and water logged against his back, wet hair covering his eyes, and rope still gripped in his hand.

Two laughs ring out behind his back: one familiar, annoying, Warriors. The other, young and bright and quickly retreating in the other direction.

“Hey!” Twilight shouts, whirling around.

But the kid is already gone, lost in the crowd of people.

A snort of laughter has Twilight turning back around, now met with a Warriors who is hardly containing his laughter. The captain's whole face is red with the effort of keeping it together and yet, little giggles still slip from between his lips. The asshole.

“Did–” Warriors cuts himself off, taking in a massive breath to steady himself. “Did you just get pranked by an eight year old?”

Warriors dissolves into uproarious laughter at his own question and Twilight slaps a hand to his forehead, kneading at his brow bones there.

Yes. A lot of patience indeed.

…

Wind was so bored he could scream.

But he couldn't scream because he was in a library, where he was pretty sure it was frowned upon to scream. Not that that would usually stop him. He’s a pirate after all. Rules are little more than things for him to follow on a whim and break when he feels like.

But Time… the thought of Time’s glare or worse, his disappointed stare stayed Wind’s hand. Err, mouth.

But that didn't stop him from huffily slouching into the chair at the older’s side as Time poured over a book. Didn't stop him from bouncing his leg as fast as it would go. Or sighing very loudly every chance he got. Or sinking even lower in his seat until his chin was level with the table and bouncing both of his legs even faster or–

“Wind,” Time says, the older pinching at his eyebrows as he closes his eye.  “A little bit of quiet, please.” He pointedly turns a page, opening his good eye to begin reading once more. “We’re almost done here, I promise.”

Wind slumped in his chair, resigning himself to silence.

…

For all of about three seconds before the sailor let out the loudest, longest yawn of his life, the force of the inhale arching his back while the exhale causes him to go boneless in his chair, forcing the thing to move back a several inches. A horrible screechy sound emits from the movement as the wooden legs of the chair as they whined against the hardwood floor.

By the end of the whole production, Time is staring at Wind, single eye wide, face painfully neutral.

Wind sends the older a sheepish smile.

Time’s eye narrows.

Which is how Wind finds himself stalking through the stacks, arms piled high with the books that Time no longer needs, trying to sort out where exactly to put each title. The older had apparently forgotten why Wind wasn’t helping look through the books in the first place: he couldn't read this version of Hylian, it's letters too foreign, too distant from his own.

So basically, at this point, Wind’s just putting books back where-ever he's finding openings and calling it good.

He just needs to find a few more vacancies and… there! A couple of bookshelves down the line, on the bottom most level, several books sit spaced out, leaning against one another instead of packed rigidly together. Perfect! He can get rid of several of these damn things all at once.

With a slight pep in his step, the sailor moseys on over to that shelf, leans down, and shoves about seven books into the open space.

Arms now considerably lighter, the young hero stands, whistling a quiet tune as he glances around for somewhere to deposit the last of his load–

“Aw, c’mon!” A voice, high pitched and annoyed. “I just set that all up!”

The sailor whirls around, apology ready on his lips for whatever librarian he just pissed off, only to find himself alone amongst the books. Wind looks back the way he came. No one. Back the other way. Nada. A peak around the shelf. Zilch.

“Uhhh, hello?” the young hero tries, turning a circle, peeking through the spaces between the books to see if perhaps someone was speaking to him through the shelf. “I’m sorry I fuc-err- messed up your… uh whatever it is you set up?”

“It’s fine, ” the voice replies, resigned frustration bleeding into its tone. “I’ll just be back home a bit later than I…”

A beat.

“Wait... Kid, you can hear me?”

“Not a kid,” Wind corrects, his ears flicking up and down, trying to pinpoint where the voice is coming from. “But yeah, I can hear you. Why?” Wind turns another circle. “Where the hell are you?”

A little laugh.

“Look down.”

Without thinking, Wind does as the voice commands and… huh.

Down below, next to the shelf Wind had just gracelessly filled, stands a tiny person. Like a really really tiny person, probably hardly bigger than Wind’s thumb.

“Holy shit!” the young hero exclaims, almost immediately dropping to his knees to examine his new friend.

And upon closer inspection, Wind can see that his friend isn't exactly a person at all, per say. Well, not Hylian, at least.

The little guy has ears like a Hylian, long and pointed and pierced, which protrude from the side of his head. He has hair like a Hylian, shoulder length and blonde, with the front pulled back into a neat ponytail. He even wears clothes like a Hylian; a black shirt tucked into puffy green pants, the tiniest sword Wind has ever seen slung over his shoulder, and a little pair of goggles dangling out of use around his neck.

But that's where the similarities end. Because the little guy’s face is nothing like a Hylian’s, instead ending in a long pointed nose, like the muzzle of a mouse. Wind can see that the other even has whiskers, the little hairs twitching and flickering inquisitive as the little guy tilts his head up to look at the sailor.

Wind thinks he must be examining Wind as closely as the sailor is doing to him, but there's something about his small friend’s large eyes–big, black, and seemingly pupil-less– that makes Wind feel like the other is taking a mental pictograph of him, filing away Wind's face for later.

Oh yeah, and the tail. His small friend also has a little, white, feathery tail with forest green plumage on its tip. It twitches every so often. It's adorable.

With a small laugh, the little guy takes a small step forward–huh, four toed feet– moving closer to Wind, no doubt taking in the sailor's downright astonished expression with the amount of glee of someone who's been through this whole song and dance before and who absolutely loves it.

“What kid?” he says with a grin, exposing long, rat-like incisors. “Minish got your tongue?”

“Not a kid,” Wind corrects without even thinking. “The fuck’s a Minish?”

That seems to knock his new friend off balance a little, the little guy’s grin slipping the slightest of bits as his nose begins to twitch faster.

“You’ve never heard of the Minish? Or the Picori?”

Wind shakes his head. “Nope.”

The grin slips entirely off the mouse-like man’s face, black eyes losing some of their twinkle.

“Oh.”

“But uh,” Wind says, because oh, Ocean King, if he thought a sad looking Hyrule was bad, this little guy takes the kicked puppy–kicked mouse?– look and turns it up to eleven.“Thats probably just because I’m not from around here. I’m from really far away. An island actually.”

“An island? Really?” The little guy perks up considerably at that, eyes lighting back up and whiskers and tail twitching excitedly. “Huh. I’ve never even seen the ocean before,” he says a little wistfully.

There is a beat of silence between the two.

And then the little guy, the Minish, shakes his head as if coming out of a day dream, smiling sheepishly up at Wind.

“Heh, sorry about that.” he rubs the back of his neck, a nervous habit. “Just been stuck in this town for a while. Going a little stir crazy. Anyway,” and the minish’s face quickly shifts from sheepish to imploring, “now that I know you can hear me, how about you help me fix what you just messed up?”

Which is how Wind finds himself multitasking, helping the minish, who he comes to learn is named Green, set up all of the books back into their original configurations while the little guy rides on his shoulder, helping Wind to place his own books back in their correct locations.

They chat as they go about the task, Green telling Wind all about the Minish who live in the library and why the books were set up the way they were while Wind describes growing up on a small island in the middle of the ocean. Back and forth, the two trade stories in between placing books, Green bragging about killing an Octoroc on his own (which, for his size, is actually pretty impressive) while Wind goes on and on about being the second in command of a pirate ship.

Before long, Wind finds himself sliding his final book into place, feeling oddly sad as the cracked leather spine leaves his fingers.

The sailor brings an open palm up to his shoulder, which Green steps into to be placed on the shelf Wind is standing in front of, bringing the two eye level.

“Thanks for all the help, Wind” Green says, smiling, black eyes twinkling in the dim light of the library.

The sailor waves him off, sending the other a grin of his own. “Ehh it was nothing. I mean, I’m the one who messed all of that shit up in the first place. Might as well be the one to clean it up too. And besides,” a roll of his sea glass green eyes, “it kept me from actually fucking dying of boredom.”

“Yeah, about that,” Green says, strolling over to the book Wind had just placed on the shelf. He runs a small hand over the spine, tracing the golden embossed letters with his fingers. “Not many people are super interested in the old legends of the Light Force. What exactly are you and your friend looking for?”

The little sailor takes a glance around, making sure no one is within earshot. Finding not a soul, the sailor turns back to his new friend and leans in smiling, truly a kid with a secret to tell.

“I’m pretty sure this is supposed to be hush hush, if you know what I mean,” the sailor starts, voice a whisper but words alight with excitement as he flashes the minish a conspiratory grin, “But I think you’re cool, so I'll tell ya. Hold onto your tail, ‘cause this is gunna sound absolutely keeseshit insane.”

“See, my name isn’t actually Wind. That's just the hero title I got for saving the Great Sea.” He gives the wide eyed minish a little playful bow and a wink. “Link, Hero of the Winds at your service”

“Anyway,” the sailor continues, really getting into his story now, hands moving wildly as he explains, ”Me, the dude with the sick face tats–that's Time, by the way– and six other heroes from across time and space were all brought together for a really fucking important adventure where we’ll probably have to save all of our kingdoms. And today, we got spat out here and because it’s none of our versions of Hyrule, we know that we probably need to find the hero that lives here and get them to come along with us on our adventure.”

“So Time and I were here checking the library to see if there was any info on the hero. Makes sense, yeah?” The sailor finishes, eyes finally coming back to rest on the minish

The minish who is now blinking at Wind owlishly, large obsidian eyes somehow even bigger than before.

And then the little guy breaks out into chittering laughter, the mouse-like man almost knocked over by the force of his own giggles as his tail lashes and he clutches at his stomach as though in pain.

“Hey!” Wind exclaims, indignantly. “I’m not making this shit up! It’s true!”

Green shakes his head, still laughing as he wipes a hand down his face.

“Oh no, don’t worry. I believe you,” the minish says, words still bubbly with laughter even as he tries to compose himself.  “That’s why I’m laughing.”

Another chuckle, this one considerably less light. More bitter, and crumbling around the edges.  

“Never a dull moment when you're a hero, huh?” Greens says, looking down at his hands.  “Never a moment’s rest.”

Before Wind can respond, before he can unpack what his little friend just said, his head whips to the left following the quiet and distant sound of his name. It’s Time, the Old Man calling for him. It’s no doubt time to go.

With a tinge of sadness swelling in him like the tide, Wind turns back to his friend, farewell ready on his lips, only to find the minish smiling up at him, an aquamarine fragment of stone hefted in his tiny arms.

“For all your help,” Green says. And then when Wind doesn't take it immediately, he lifts it higher, more insistent. “And for good luck.”

With ginger fingers, Wind plucks the stone from his small friend’s hands. He turns it over between his palms, staring at the etching of a four leafed clover in the middle, tracing the way the stone seems to be broken in half, a jagged edge disrupting the intricate carving.

“What is it?”

“A Kinstone. If you find its other half, something good will happen.” A rat-toothed smile and glittering black eyes twinkling with an unreadable emotion. “Something tells me you’re going to need some luck in your future.”

“Wind!” Time’s voice again, closer.

“Coming!” Wind calls back.

And then to his little friend: “I uh, guess this is good bye.”

The Minish nods and holds out his hand, looking pointedly at Wind, encouraging the sailor to do the same. With a touch of confusion, Wind complies, holding out a finger to his small companion.

Green smiles, looking up into Wind's eyes as he presses a hand to the center of his chest, placing the other to the tip of Wind’s finger.

“Umoriut ichiri,” he chirps warmly.

And then, just before Time turns the corner, the little guy sends Wind one final grin, before turning and running, ducking behind several books and skittering out of sight.

“There you are,” Time says, finally coming to stand at Wind’s side. The Old Man glances around, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Were you talking to someone? I thought I heard voices.”

Wind’s eyes flick back to where his little friend was just standing, tracing the little alcoves they had made for the Minish who live in the library.

“Nah,” Wind says, turning back to Time with an easy grin, hands behind his head, “Just whistling to myself. “We good to go?”

As the two exit the library, headed back toward the fountain to meet up with the others, a blonde haired boy in a green tunic rushes past Wind, gently brushing the sailor’s side as he runs.

“See you later!” the kid calls, looking over his shoulder only long enough for Wind to catch sight of forest green eyes before the boy’s face is obscured by bodies, his small form disappearing into the sea of people near the market.

Huh.

The kid must have Wind confused for someone else.

And yet, the little sailor could not help but think the other’s voice was oddly familiar somehow.

…

Legend and Sky start canvassing the lower town.

Start being the operative word. They do not finish canvassing the lower town.

Because really, Legend muses, how were they supposed to work in these conditions? On an empty stomach and absolutely surrounded by the mouthwatering smells of the little market?

So they stop searching for the hero and start searching for someplace to get lunch because, really, with so many eyes open and ears out looking for the kid, one of the others were bound to find something they could work with.

Or, at least, that's what Legend tells Sky to get the chosen hero to stop looking like a guilty puppy over the fact that they’re ditching their job.  

So, after touring the stalls for a bit, sampling this and trying that with the pocket change that Legend always keeps on his person, they eventually settle on a more permanent looking place for lunch: a little bakery with a sign out front that says “Wheaton and Pita’s Bakery”.

The soft tinkling of a bell and the absolutely heavenly scent of baking bread, melting butter, and sugary frosting greets them as they push their way through the door, confirming that they made the right choice.  

“Welcome to Wheaton and Pita’s Bakery, home of the lucky brioche,” calls a dour voice from behind the counter. “What can I get you today?”

The owner of the voice is a blonde kid standing at a work bench a bit farther behind the counter, kneading dough with the viciousness that one would use to throttle their worst enemy. The kid is absolutely covered in flour and powdered sugar, leaving only his livid cobalt eyes unbleached by the ingredients. He’s wearing an apron with lots of little blue  hearts and stars embroidered into the front.

With an angry grimace, the blonde gives the dough another massive punch, blowing a few strands of hair that have managed to escape his tight bun out of his face.

The kid looks like he hates his life.

Which is fair, Legend thinks. The kid is working retail, after all.

Welp, too bad for him. If he's this easily annoyed, he's in the wrong business. And unfortunately for the young blonde, Legend most certainly isn’t above antagonizing strangers for his own amusement. Gotta make your own fun while going on a wild goose chase for the Goddess, you know?

So, with only a tiny dot of venom soiling his innocent mischief, Legend plasters a doughy, dumb look over his face

“Any recommendations?” the pink haired hero asks, voice so sugary it contends with the crystalline smell of frosting in the air, his smile wide and vacant. “We’re from out of town.”

The kid must know what he's doing, because the veteran swears he sees the boy’s right eye twitch. Bingo.

“We literally only sell four things,” the kid grits out with a grimace.

Legend raises an eyebrow at that, innocent smile going a bit more pointed as he gives the boy an appraising look. A ‘oh really? You’re talking to a customer like that?’

The kid’s grimace somehow becomes even more pronounced as he narrows icy blue eyes at the veteran hero. But then, as if hearing the words of someone lecturing him, the kid shakes his head and gets a hold of his temper.The young blonde takes a deep breath in, and sighs it out, visibly trying to soften his jaw, his shoulders. Another breath in and the kid holds it this time,  the boy somehow turning his grimace into an even more painful looking smile; all teeth, no lip.

“If you want sweet, get the pie or the cake.” He says, mouth hardly moving as he hisses the words out between his bared teeth. “If you want savory, get the brioche or the croissant.”

“Oh that sounds great, but what do you recommend?”

The kid's face turns a little red.

Legend takes it as a win, even as Sky elbows him in the side, clearly having caught on to what the pink haired hero was doing.

“Sorry for my friend,” Sky says, an easy, appeasing smile on his face. “I’ll take a brioche, please.”

“And a slice of cake for me, if you’d be so kind,” Legend adds, batting his eyelashes a little.

He gets another elbow to the stomach. Its totally worth it for the icy glare he gets from the blonde as he shoves himself away from the counter, going off to fill their order.

“Why are you like this?” Sky whispers, shaking his head.

Legend merely shrugs, pulling out the correct amount of rupees and placing them on the counter. And then, after a second, places a purple one inside the open tip jar. Because the kid was at least a good sport about the whole thing.

“Here’s the brioche,” the boy says, handing a personal sized loaf to Sky with a napkin. “And the cake,” he finishes, passing a ceramic plate and fork to Legend. Then with the fakest smile known to man: “Have a great day.”

The two heroes turn away from the counter, only making it a few steps before both give into the temptation of their food.

And Legend has to admit, the cake is amazing.The frosting on top has crystalized on the outside, leaving the inside buttery and sweet and tasting of vanilla.  The cake is spongy and light, complimenting the fresh, tart strawberry and raspberry jam sandwiched between the layers.

It's nothing short of heaven and Legend would have finished it in a few seconds flat if not for a sharp crack, followed by an excruciating pain in his mouth.

With an open mouthed shout of surprise and hurt, he spits his last mouthful onto his plate; chewed up bits of cake covered in blood followed by a fucking fragment of a blue stone.

Well that and part of a tooth. Part of his front tooth.

“Wuh huh ‘UCK!” Legend screams, blood on his lips, jolting both Sky and the boy behind the counter, who both look at him in surprise and then shock.

“Did you just fucking bite into the Kinstone?!” The boy shouts in a mix of surprise and anger, vaulting over the counter, a handful of napkins clutched in his palm. He quickly guides the pink haired hero back into a chair while shoving the paper into Legend’s hands. Once seated, the boy takes the plate away as Sky leans in, shooting Legend a concerned look as the veteran sets about shoving as many napkins in his mouth in order to curb the flow of iron.

“Why huh ‘UCK are ‘here shtones in a ‘UCKING cake?!” Legend spits as best he can around the napkins and the painful half stump of his front left tooth.

“It's a Kinstone, you moron! Almost every goddess damned thing in the store has one baked into it!”

“How wash I shuppos’s to knohw ‘hat?!”

“You would have known if you had bothered to look at the fucking menu instead of being a goddess damned  menace!”

Legend whips his head up to look at the sign hanging above the counter, not believing the little, snot nosed–!

… sure enough, in bright white letters, it says, “Chance to win a Kinstone in every treat!”

Son of a...

The door opens with its tell tale tinkling and a woman steps into the bakery, freezing the three boys in their tracks as they watch her enter. She totters in, arms full of groceries and a jovial expression on her face, having clearly not seen them yet.

“I’m back, Link!” she says, setting her basket down on the counter, before glancing around, obviously looking for her helper. “How was manning the shop– oh my goodness gracious!”

A hand comes up to her mouth as she rushes over to the group of teens, glancing between Legend’s bloody mouth and the kid’s angry expression.

“Oh, Link.” She says, voice sad. No. Disappointed.  “You punched another one?”

“Another one!?” Sky exclaims.

“...the one fucking day I switch jobs with Red, I get the morons…” Legend catches the boy mutter under his breath. And then to the woman, “No, Mrs. Pita. This one,” he throws a thumb at Legend, “bit into a Kinstone and broke a tooth.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” the woman exclaims, gently removing Sky and the blonde from infront of Legend, taking a hold of the pink haired hero’s chin to examine his mouth herself. She hisses at the sight of the broken tooth, the white bone broken clean in half. “I’m afraid you might need a fairy to fix this, my dear.”

Legend groans as best he can around the napkins and now the examining fingers of his woman he's never met before. The Old Man has all the fairies right now and Legend does NOT want to explain why he needs one.

“Uhhh,” the blonde boy says after a few moments of the woman’s examination, inching back away from the scene, apron already over his head and in his hand. “Looks like you've got this covered, Mrs.Pita, so I’ll just…”

The woman waves the boy away, not even looking up from where she’s now examining Legend’s gums. “Yes, yes, out with you. Thank you for the help, deary, and say hello to your grandfather for me.”

The boy nods emphatically, throwing his apron over the counter and dashing out the door.

It's a few minutes later, the woman bustling about looking for gauze, Legend pressing a lump of ice into his mouth that Sky suddenly says: “Wait. Did she say that kid’s name was Link?”

Legend would punch himself in the face if he wasn't afraid of losing any more teeth today.

…

Oh, Time really shouldn't have put Hyrule and Wild together if he wanted them to be on a schedule of any kind.

Because really, what did the Old Man expect? For them to stay within the walls of the village and talk to soldiers when there was an entirely new, never before seen kingdom just beyond the barrier of dull, grey stone?

Yeah right!

So it really shouldn’t have surprised anyone, least of all Time, that pretty much the first chance they got, Hyrule and Wild were out the gates and into the rest of the kingdom proper.

And Nayru, If Hyrule had thought this Hyrule was cute before, well now he thought it was both cute and beautiful.  

The two adventurous heroes spend hours just getting lost together.

They end up at the base of a volcano, the ground heat-baked and cracked, a gentle but continuous snowfall of embers blanketing the earth and smothering it.

Despite the... warm welcome, they journey higher, until each inhale becomes a breath of pure flame, searing their throats and layering the roofs of their mouths and their lungs with ash.

And yet, for as inhospitable as Mt. Crenel is, all around them, the two can hear the sounds of the volcano rumble and combine and thrive with a sort of life of its own; the muffled bubbling of hot geysers mixing with the whistle of superheated air shrieking through cracks in the ground, all of it adding to a percussion of falling boulders until the entire mountain is thrumming with a rhythm, a heart beat of why would you try and climb this?!

So, of course, Wild and Hyrule continue to climb it.

Then, slightly smoldering and definitely soaked in sweat but smiling as bright as the overhead sun, the two teens stroll their way through rolling fields. They trace the curvature of the hills with pounding feet, wade their way through a sea of knee high waves of grass caught in the tide of the wind.

At some point, they catch sight of a small house in the distance, sitting alone on a raised plot of ground, and consider stopping to ask for directions. They eventually decide against it, content to their wandering.

Past the house, which Hyrule thinks might actually be a blacksmith due to the sharp ting ting ting emanating from the building as they pass, the two enter a forest. Almost immediately, Hyrule feels something in him shift, his chest releasing a breath he hadn't even known it was holding, letting the traveler feel like he was finally breathing  for the first time in a long long while.  

Hyrule can’t put his finger on it, cannot reach out and touch it or even put a name to the feeling, but there's something about the place that just… feels like home. The trees, tall and older than Hyrule will ever be, create a dark canopy overhead, interrupting the sun and leaving the forest floor in cool, misty shade. There is a strange stillness to the woods, as though everything has been muted; the trees, the bushes, the fog, all of it taking the sounds of the forest and softening them, a gentle brush of noise rather than a deafening din of activity.

And the air... The air is cool and refreshing, thick with the scent of rain and moss and mud and growth. And something else. Something that prickles familiarly at Hyrule’s skin. Something that sits on the back of his tongue, sweet, but not cloying so.

It’s something magical.

Not the crystalline honeysuckle of faerie magic, Hyrule thinks, but something similar, adjacent. It is not as ephemeral, not as wily or mischievous. It feels… more grounded. More rooted, more ingrained into the very earth instead of free floating magical ozone. It feels nice. Homely.

Hyrule could probably stay in that forest, The Minish Woods, for hours, if not for the fact that they did, infact, need to head back at some point. So with a bit of reluctance, Hyrule lets Wild drag him from the woods and back out into the light of day.

Soon enough, the two of them find a dirt road and follow it until the grey cobblestone of Hyrule Town come into view. The home stretch, they’re almost there–

Hyrule feels the dirt of the road shift beneath his foot, something burying through the ground underneath his soles, creating a small wake of rock and displaced dirt that has the traveling hero tripping with a gasp.

He catches himself, but only just, eyes almost instinctively following the way the shape that had nearly caused his fall glides forward through the dirt before it comes to a screeching halt. Thin black claws erupt from the top soil, scrabbling scrabbling scrabbling until there is a hole large enough for a rounded, yellow head to emerge from underground.

As if looking for who just stepped on it, the head wheels around in the hole, revealing a molelike face wearing a blue domino mask of all things. However, the monster's tiny eyes seem to spot them easily enough, the creature's lips immediately peeling back from it’s thin snout to reveal a needle-like sneer that has Hyrule and Wild drawing their blades.

With a squeaky giggle, the head disappears back underground only to immediately reappear as the creature emerges more fully from the dirt.

Or, if Hyrule is going to be accurate, as the creatures emerge more fully from the dirt, because their little guy apparently has friends. Friends that stack ontop of eachother, one after the other, until there is a tower of the little guys tottering toward them, claws extended, mouths snapping, eyes glittering greedily behind their masks.

Hyrule raises his shield and sees Wild do the same next to him. The two heroes lock eyes briefly, nodding to each other, a vicious smile shared between two people with the same idea. Focusing his eyes back on the tower of enemies, Hyrule braces his legs, ready to break into a sprint.

Because while the spire of moles is tall, it isn't exactly what Hyrule would call stable. A single blow from their shields should do the trick.

“Go!” Wild shouts, jolting both heroes into action, the two springing forward as one, shields ready to dismantle their enemies–

When a massive clawed paw erupts from the ground directly in front of the tower, grabbing a hold of the bottom most enemy. The little thing only has long enough to widen its eyes and let out a little shriek of fear before it's being dragged back down under the ground, the entire tower coming down with it.

“What in the hell was that?!” Wild asks, having to shout over the muffled sound of rodent-like shrieks and hisses rising up from the depths of the hole

“No clue.” Hyrule responds, just as bemused, keeping his eyes firmly locked on where the claw had emerged. “A new type of Wallmaster?”

A final high pitched shriek pieces the air, followed by total silence.

And for a second, Wild and Hyrule just stare at the hole, swords up, shields prepped, ready for literally anything to jump out of its depths.

They don't have to wait long, as two massive clawed paws emerge from the hole, working in tandem to tear at the sides of the pit, widening it. Wider and wider and wider until it’s at least three times bigger than the one the little moles had popped out of.

A final pass of paws and then the claws grip at the edges of the pit, wicked looking nails rooting themselves into the earth, a stable basis for something to haul itself up and–

Another blonde head pops from the hole, but unlike last time, it is quickly followed by shoulders and a very small, hylian looking body and Oh, Nayru,  the traveler thinks his jaw might have just hit the dirt because what looks to be a freaking eight year old child is hauling himself up from underground.

In seconds, the boy is free from the earth, standing and pulling off the massive clawed gloves– gloves! They’re gloves!– and stowing them away in a leather satchel, as he mutters quietly to himself. The child then lets out a sharp tisk as he seems to realize how dirty he is, hands passing methodically through his straight blonde hair to rid it of any clods of dirt. A couple of harsh swipes across his clothes sends clouds of dust billowing from the child, and Hyrule watches as the kid’s tunic seemingly turns from a dusky heather to a vibrant violet.

Quickly stowing his sword and shield, Hyrule rushes to the child’s side just as the kid finishes cleaning himself up, the wandering hero’s eyes peeled for any injuries, any visible bruises, tears in the other’s tunic or pants.

“Are you alright?” Hyrule asks, voice a little breathless from shock.

“Oh,” the boy replies, taking a reflexive step away as the traveling hero skids to a stop next to him, sharp amethyst eyes giving Hyrule an evaluative once over before flicking over and doing the same to Wild as the champion approaches.

“My apologies,” The boy gives a slight incline of his head, his face betraying nothing as he speaks. “I was unaware anyone was out here. I am sorry if I surprised you.”

“Surprised us?” Wild asks with a little laugh, eyes wide with excitement. “I mean, yeah, but that was freaking awesome kid! What were those things anyway?”

“And what were you doing down there?” Hyrule asks, voice soft but eyes sending daggers Wild’s way because the champion just completely bypassed the fact that there was an eight year old underground fighting monsters.

The boy’s face cracks a little, his blank facade wrinkling as his eyebrows furrow an inch, his mouth turning down a tick. His eyes flicker back and forth between Wild and Hyrule, as though the two heroes are a puzzle he’s trying to work out.

“Those were Acrobandits,” the boy explains slowly. “Not particularly dangerous monsters, but pests nonetheless. There has been an unfortunate resurgence in their numbers as of late, so I was asked to “thin the herd,” so to speak.”

“Not saying you aren’t capable of handling them yourself, but aren’t there soldiers for that?” Wild asks, Hyrule nodding along with his friends' words. Because, sure, while he was handed a sword at the age of fourteen and tasked with saving the world from an all powerful pig demon,  that didn't mean all kids should be out killing monsters before the sun had set on their first decade.

The boy’s eyebrows furrow further, face now looking completely nonplussed.

And then suddenly, his face shifts again, a look of clarity easing the confused tension in his expression, amethyst eyes beginning to flash with interest.

“You’re not from here,” he says. It’s not a question.

“Uh, no. We’re not, but–”

“Then you’re travelers, I presume.” the boy cuts in, turning to more fully face the two heroes as his eyes light up even brighter, curiosity polishing the gems of his eyes into glinting facets. “How many kingdoms have you traveled to? Why have you come to Hyrule? Have you noticed any significant differences in georgraphica–”

“Okay, whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down, one at a time,” Wild butts in, waving his hands slightly, as if he were dispelling the words from the very air. “Yes, we’re travelers, we’ve been to about eight kingdoms, and were in this Hyrule looking for a hero named Link.”

The boy blinks at that.

And it's like a door slamming shut, the younger blonde’s expression closing off as the interest that had illuminated his eyes dims. His face hardens into impassive stone, painfully neutral.

“Why are you looking for him?” the words cold, carefully measured.

“You know him then?” Hyrule asks, picking up on the boy’s defensive behavior. One would only act that way if they cared deeply about the person in question. Cared about a stranger’s intentions toward them. “We need his help with something and need to speak with him as soon as possible.”

“Need help with what, exactly?” the kid asks, narrowing his eyes.

Wild and Hyrule share a look.

Because, really, isn't that the million rupee question?

Because, at this point, even they aren't sure what they're doing. They know they’ve been brought together by some sort of force powerful enough to punch rifts through time and space itself but they weren't clear on what this force was, or if its intentions were benevolent or not.

There was no old man to tell them what they were supposed to be doing. No cryptic clues or helpful hints, no companion to give them some incentive.

They were just eight heroes from different eras suddenly shoved together by some weird twist of fate and expected to do... something.

But that isn't an answer.

But Hyrule has no other to give.

So he tells the truth.

“We… don't actually know.” the traveler begins, letting out a soft sigh as his eyes meet the boy’s, a field of earnest hazel versus a sea of skeptical violet. “We… aren't sure what we’re doing or even why.”

A raised eyebrow from the boy and Hyrule lets out a humorless laugh in response.

“Yeah, I know, right? Sounds pretty stupid. But,” and Hyrule tries, he tries to make his words as full of conviction as possible. Full of steel but also full of simple, all encompassing warmth. “All I know for sure is that whatever it is we’re doing, we’re doing it for the good of others. And that’s worth looking a little stupid for. Or, at least, I think so.”

A beat of silence passes between them.

And then, for the first time since they’d met him, the kid smiles.

It is small, barely an upturn of his lips, but it is soft and fond, the kid shaking his head slightly, as if dispelling a thought. Or perhaps a memory.

“You sound like my brothers,” the young blonde says, still smiling. “Idiots, the lot of them, but brave. Brave idiots.”

Hyrule watches as the kid’s smile turns sad. A breath in and a breath out and the expression is gone, the boy’s face once again a fond, half smile.

“It sounds like you could use all the help you can get. I’ll tell you where you can find him. The Hero.”

…

Honestly, for how much they had done exactly the opposite of what their job was supposed to be, Hyrule is a little proud to find that he and Wild manage to procure the best information thanks to the help of the kid– Vio.

And sure, they’re three hours late, but they’re not empty handed like Time and Wind, or soaked to the bone and with little more to show for it than rumors like Twilight and Warriors, or missing a tooth like Legend.

It is mostly only thanks to them that the heroes set off south of town, Twilight in a new set of clothes (but his still damp fur plastered stubbornly to his back) and Wind happily admiring a now completed Kinstone thanks to Legend’s… souvenir.

Before they know it, the group of heroes find themselves outside of the blacksmith’s forge that Hyrule and Wild had passed hours ago.

To think, if they had just stopped to ask for directions, they could have found the Hero with no muss, no fuss.

Oh well, Hyrule thinks, a touch of a smile pulling at his face. He always did prefer to do things the long way around.

Time, ever the leader, pushes open the door, the rest of them following close behind and–

“You!” Twilight hisses,taking a slight aggressive step forward as he jabs a finger in the direction of a very familiar looking young blond boy sitting on top of the weapon shop's counter. And then addressing the other heroes, accusing point never dropping for a second, “That's the kid who dumped water all over me!”

“Uhhh, no,” Legend cuts in, sending a look Twilight’s way that clearly implied that the veteran thought the farm hand was being a moron, “Thats the kid from the bakery. The one who sold me the cake with rocks in it.”

And Hyrule wants to break in that, no, this is Vio. The one who fought off a bunch of mole monsters like it was nothing and who told them where they could find the Hero in the first place. The reason they were even here.

Because its very clearly the same kid. Same diminutive height, same straight, shoulder length blonde hair, same headband holding the golden locks out of the kid’s face.

And yet, at the same time, Hyrule can also distinctly tell that it's not the same kid.

Because where Vio had been chilly politeness, bright curious eyes, and stone cold suspicion, this kid is all knowing grins, mischievous looks, barely contained anticipation. He’s also wearing a completely different outfit: a quadripartite tunic, four different colors sewed roughly together at their edges to make a very unique whole.

And apparently he’s been waiting for them, a bag already packed and sitting on the counter next to the kid.

“It sounds like you’ve met my brothers,” the boy says by way of greeting, smile never leaving his lips as he hops over the service counter, dragging his full bag with him.  “Sorry about them, they can be a bit of a handful. My name’s Link.”

A little laugh to himself, like there is some sort of inside joke here that no one seems to be in on except the boy himself.

“But something tells me I won’t be going by that for much longer,” the little hero continues.

A hearth warm smile. An air of confidence. A stone firm handshake. A tempest of energy.

“You guys can call me Four.”

[ineloqueent]

Starstruck: Part 18

Brian May x Fem!Reader

This is Part 18 of a multi-part fic. Click the links below to read the Masterpost, the previous part, or the next part of the fic :)

Masterpost / Part 17 / Part 19

Summary: When studying at Imperial College in the 1970s, your path is crossed by a beautiful boy as much in love with the stars as you.  

Warnings: swearing, drinking, sentiments of sadness

Historical Inaccuracies: N/A

Word Count: 4k

A/N: this is going to get really fucking sappy from here on until the end. you have been warned.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

You would come to miss those days on tour.

Those days were some of the best days of your life.

It was the eclectic array of nights spent dancing in clubs somewhere halfway across the world, where you had hardly any idea what the reference point for ‘halfway’ was.

You no longer measured the distance from home, because it was with you always now.

You finally understood all those stupidly sappy people, with their stupidly sappy sentiments about how home was not a place but a feeling.

Because Brian was that feeling.

It was the mornings in the UK where you discovered you had not seen all there was to see, the afternoons on the East Coast of the United States where you met a thousand new people, the evenings on the West Coast where you learned to surf, the nights in Japan where you didn’t speak the language and relied on universal symbols to do the talking for you, incoherent late-night-early-morning hours spent on god knew what tour bus or flight, leaned against Brian who slept as little as you. He awoke at every little jolt or sound, but did so with his hand in yours or resting lightly on your thigh, a small smile on his lips to ask if you were alright. You were always far better than simply alright, because it was all those little things that you lived for, because now, they were your life. And they made you feel alive. At home and alive.

When you’d returned to the tour bus on the route to Taunton, you’d been holding his hand, and it seemed that everyone had been anticipating this change, because the reactions were immediate.

“Did you two fucking finally get together?” said Roger, and the rest of the Queen entourage turned to look at you.

“Y/N!” Heather cried. “You didn’t think to tell me?!”

You reddened, fighting the urge to pull your fingers from Brian’s and run out the door. “It’s sort of a new thing—”

“When?” John piped up. “When did it happen?”

“Deacy!” Freddie cried. “Interrupting is rude. Finish your sentence, Y/N darling, then tell us when.”

You stammered, “I— um—”

“Liverpool,” said Brian firmly, wrapping his arm around your waist and dropping a kiss to your head. “We’ll be taking no further questions at this time.”

He then swept you with him to the seats at the back of the bus and proceeded to read to you from one of the many Hermann Hesse novels he’d packed, and his voice lulled you into a much-needed sleep.

And from that day on, the two of you became inseparable.

Every word you breathed was with Brian in mind, orchestrated in sentences to make him laugh in a way that warmed you down to your fingertips and toes, uttered for him because he was there and he would understand what you were talking about. It wasn’t a conscious thing, but it seemed that he was everywhere, influencing all that you did, because everything about him made you so ridiculously happy.

Those days were some of the best days of your life.

And some of the worst.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

Bournemouth, 23rd of November, 1975

It was in Bournemouth, on the way down to the lobby, that you found the door to Freddie and Mary’s hotel room open, and the latter packing up her things.

There was no one else there and the empty hallway was quiet, but the kind of quiet in which chaos had only recently departed. A hesitance hung in the air, as though the occupants of the hotel, wherever they were, collectively held their breath.

The door was open in a manner that made you think that it had been left that way, a mess that remained unfixed, rather than an invitation to enter.

Still, Mary was alone, you could tell as much, so, thinking the circumstances strange, you approached the room and rapped your knuckles lightly against the wooden doorframe.

“Mary?”

“I’m going,” she said, without looking up.

You frowned. “Going where?”

“Home,” she slammed the suitcase shut. “To London.”

Surely, it couldn’t be so bad with Freddie that she was really going home. You couldn’t imagine wanting to leave tour life. There were so many places to go, to see, and that first night in the wings— that feeling. You’d never give that up. But maybe Mary no longer got that feeling, when she was watching someone her heart had deemed a stranger.

“Now?”

She sighed, in a way that made her countenance suddenly more sad than angry. “Now,” she affirmed. “Have to figure out what happens next.”

You nodded, your understanding contrite but understanding nonetheless. It would be strange to be around Queen without Mary, now that you were also without Veronica. The feeling was one of falling apart, of growing smaller. The warm days of Ridge Farm were gone, and so were many of the familial bonds.

On her way out the door, Mary touched your shoulder. “I hope you and Brian will be happy together. He’s a lovely soul, and so are you.”

You blushed. “Thank you.”

She flashed you a brief, melancholy smile, and went on her way.

No one left Freddie alone for the next many nights, a support system of bad jokes and too much wine constructed to drive away the loneliness, the loneliness that would have plagued anyone at the loss of their best friend.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

England, Late December, 1975

Roger made a face. “Where the hell is he?”

Deacy only glanced at his watch and shook his head.

“He’s always complaining that I’m late,” Freddie voiced his woe, “but now where’s he? Fucking late, that’s where!” Freddie patted your shoulder. “No offense, darling.”

“Uh,” you said bemusedly, “none taken?”

“Well,” Freddie sighed, “he is your boyfriend after all.”

Just then, as the doors to the lift began to close for the third time, and no one paid any mind to stop them from doing so, Brian hurtled around the corner and slipped through the tightening gap, just in time.

“Why, speak of the devil,” Freddie deadpanned, shuffling farther back to accommodate for the elevator’s fifth passenger.

“The sun,” you said. “It’s the sun.”

Deacy snorted. “It would be, for you.”

Brian glanced around, his complexion rendered in a rosy glow from whatever dash he’d just made to the lift. “Sorry about that. What’d I miss?” He turned to you, one of his pretty smiles skimming across his face like moonlight on river water. “Hi love,” he said, his touch falling to your arms as he leaned in to kiss your cheek.

“Hi gorgeous,” you replied, a swell of warmth in your chest as he lingered in his proximity to you.

“Oh, kiss her properly!” Roger cried.

“Yeah,” John laughed. “Kiss her properly, Brian.”

Brian sighed, but it was adoration that was in his eyes when he bent to kiss your mouth with tenderness that melted you. He pulled away all too soon.

“I would kiss her properly,” he said to Freddie’s tutting, “and I bloody well will—” your skin tingled with the weight of his hand on your waist— “but I have something to tell you all, so if you’d just shut up for a second, that’d be great.”

“Spit it out, then,” Freddie urged with a wave of his hand, and Brian rolled his eyes.

“Your song, Fred,” he said pointedly.

Freddie smirked. “Yes, darling. Which one? I’ve got many you know.”

“Bohemian Rhapsody!” Brian said.

“Our song,” Freddie corrected.

“Well, whatever it is,” Brian shook his head as though in disbelief, “it’s only bloody went and gone to number one on the UK charts!”

Deacy’s mouth fell open. Freddie blinked.

“You’re shitting me,” Roger said.

“No, Rog. Not this time.”

There was a pause.

And then the lift erupted into absolute mania.

Screaming and shouting and jumping up and down, Freddie crushing the lot of you in a fierce hug, Brian peppering your hair with kisses in excitement as tears pricked the eyes of Deacy, and Roger nearly pulled out his hair in running his fingers so violently through it.

You had never before experienced such plain, unbridled joy, and to think that you were not only present to witness this, but that you had been part of the reason for the monumental occasion, floored you, brought your own wave of emotion as you shared in the happiness of your friends.

Until of course the elevator shuddered to a halt, and the five of you were thrown into a contorted heap on the dusty floor.

“Shit, fuck!” Roger swore, having hit his head rather hard on the railing that lined the elevator box.

Freddie rubbed his elbow as he sat up, pulled Deacy up beside him. “Now, dears, is the time to confess if you’re claustrophobic.”

Brian tugged you into a sitting position, his hands fluttering all about you. “Love? You’re not hurt, are you?”

You shook your head. “No, no. I’m fine. Are you okay?”

He nodded, kissed the top of your head. He was rather affectionate these days, but you did not mind in the slightest. It was wonderful to feel so loved, as loved as he made you feel.

“If resident idiot one and resident idiot two are quite finished professing their undying love,” John interrupted, and you blushed, “then we should probably press the emergency call button.”

“Oh, right,” Brian mumbled, and being the closest, reached over and pushed the big red button that mothers were always telling their children not to push.

You all looked on raptly, but no light illuminated the red plastic.

“We’re doomed,” Freddie groaned.

“You can’t actually starve to death within an hour,” Brian said, “which is probably the maximum amount of time it’ll take for someone to notice we’re gone, track us down, and get us out.”

“But I could die of boredom within the hour,” Roger argued. “Or less time than that. Yes… I think I could do it in less time than that.”

“Well,” Deacy grinned, “that’s not going to happen.” He promptly pulled a deck of cards from his jacket pocket.

“Oh, but that’ll never do,” you said, and the others eyed you in confusion. You shrugged. “It’s not Scrabble.”

Brian threw his head back in laughter, and the warmth of the rumble resounded within your heart.

“You’re one of us,” he whispered as Deacy dealt the cards. “You’re one of us.”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

London, 24th of December, 1975

The search and rescue party had arrived within the hour, as surely as Brian had predicted, and champagne was toasted at the news of Bohemian Rhapsody’s rampant success.

But it was Christmas Eve when everyone took a turn for the worse.

With the exception of John, Queen had come down with a particularly nasty case of the flu.

Roger could be found in a number of places throughout the day— from the dressing room couch to his tour bus bunk to his actual hotel room, slumped against a wall or draped like a loose swath of fabric in some corner. He was being waited on hand-and-foot by both Heather and Crystal, the latter of whom began to roll his eyes as the hours went on, and muttered something about not being paid enough.

Freddie felt rather sorry for himself, which you equated to meaning that he was the least afflicted out of the three, flailing about and crying for more tea— and biscuits. That was how you knew he was alright; he could still stomach biscuits.

Brian was the one you worried most for, and not only on account of your closeness with him. He said even less than usual, ate and drank as little as he spoke, and hardly moved. His eyes were half-closed and his head dropped to his chest, and even his curls seemed to droop. It quite hurt you to look at him, because his pain was so apparent. He shifted on the bed and his wince lanced pain through your chest. He lifted a glass of water to his lips, and the paleness of his pallor tore at you. It was as though somebody had taken a string and threaded it first through his heart and then through yours, so that you were connected and his pain drained you as much as it drained him.

With two hours until showtime, soundcheck over and done, Brian had crawled back into bed and now lay with at least half a dozen blankets pulled up to his chin, his curls splayed out on the pillow like a halo, as his eyelashes cast spindly shadows over his face in the low lamplight.

You had barely dropped your things to the floor by the time his eyes had fallen shut, but you approached the bed now and watched him pull the covers more tightly around his body.

“Can I help you, love?” he mumbled, not opening his eyes.

You shook your head, kneeling at his side. “No,” you brushed a stray curl from his face. “Nothing for me. Just tell me what I can do for you.”

A soft sigh. “I don’t know.”

Your fingers continued their gentle tracings along his skin. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard to convince Freddie to cancel, seeing as three of you are sick.”

His eyes flew open. “No,” he said. “We’re not cancelling on account of me having a bloody cold.”

You pressed your hand to his forehead. “Brian, you’ve got the fucking flu.”

He sighed again. “Didn’t you say you had magic powers?”

“No, Brimi, you said that.”

He slipped his hand out from under the covers and into your grasp. “Did I? I must be very clever, then.”

You rolled your eyes. “The fever is making you delusional.”

A cough rattled his chest and you clutched his fingers in alarm.

“Maybe,” he said, and a sigh caught in his throat. He looked at you. “Stay with me?”

“Is that what you want?”

“More than anything.”

You nodded. Then you climbed into bed beside him, figuring that you would’ve fallen ill too by now if it was going to happen, and besides, there weren’t thousands of people depending on your health.

You kissed the corner of his mouth softly, winding your arms around his torso. “I’m here,” you whispered.

“You’ll get sick,” he murmured back.

“Then you won’t be alone.”

He peered down at you. “What did I do to deserve you?” he asked.

“Everything.”

His lips parted as though he had words prepared, but all that left him was another sigh. He pulled you closer and you held him until both band and crew were hammering at the door for Brian to hurry up and get ready.

He was nearly out the door when you pulled him back and stood on your toes to loop one of your own scarves around his neck, a white one you’d once bought in Kensington Market, near Freddie and Roger’s stall.

Brian had blinked in surprise, but you’d smiled.

“A scarf for a scarf.”

And then you’d ushered him out the door and toward the stage.

He’d doubled back so as to kiss the top of your head. “Happy Christmas, my love.”

“Happy Christmas, Brian.”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

January, 1976

It was lucky there was a month gap between the European and North American segments of the tour, because as it happened, you fell just as ill as the others had been. But normally, where you normally would have had no one to take care of you, aside from Heather who was in and out of the house on account of both school and work, you now had the doting presence of Brian May.

He barely left your side, and if he did, it was only to get you something. He stayed with you night and day, and would have done so with his arms around you if you’d let him. But you didn’t want to risk him getting sick again, so he slept on the floor by your bed, and you let your hand dangle over the edge of the sheets to reach for his.

When the end of the month rolled around and you were packing up again for the flight to America, Brian came by and wound his arms around your waist in greeting, nuzzling kisses into your neck.

“Hello Brian,” you said, twisting in his arms.

“Hello love,” he mumbled the words into your skin.

For a moment, you smiled up at him and he smiled down at you, before he kissed you and the world fell away again. The rest of the world always fell away where Brian was concerned. The world, relatively speaking, did not matter, for who was he if not your world?

“Ready to go?” he asked.

You nodded. He smiled and picked up your suitcase, but you stopped him.

Concern creased his brow. “What is it—”

You pulled him down to you and covered his mouth with yours, unable to help yourself.

He hummed in response, and the sound tingled on your lips as his fingertips pressed warmly against your sides, as you leaned on the bed for support, as he leaned his hips against yours.

Time and space blurred in equal amounts when Brian angled his jaw to kiss you more deeply, and gravity tipped, powerless in the wake of this moment except to bring two dazed lovers together in a mess of tangled limbs and stuttering hearts, atop a cottony duvet where they’d once been no more than classmates.

He swept a line of kisses over your jaw and your neck until they reached the hollow of your throat, where they stopped. You opened your eyes to find Brian gazing down at you, his breath laboured and the hazel of his eyes brighter than usual, offset by dilated pupils.

“We have to go,” he whispered, and you groaned aloud. “Else we’ll miss the flight.”

“Why’d you have to be a famous musician, again?”

His smile was infectious. “Because somebody said I was good enough to be.”

“I hate it when my own words come back to bite me.”

Brian only laughed, pressed a stubbornly chaste kiss to your mouth, and pulled you up to stand. “Come on, my love.”

You were almost out of the house when you realised you’d forgotten something. You left Brian at the door and rushed back to your room.

Smiling at the rainbow bundle on your bed, you grabbed it and hurried back to meet Brian outside, locking the front door for the last time in a good while.

You thrust the scarf in his face, and his face twisted in confusion.

“Take it back,” you said.

He shook his head slowly. “Why on Earth would I do that? It’s as much yours as it is mine.”

“Maybe so. But it doesn’t smell like you anymore.”

Brian grinned as you slung the garment around his neck. “So it’s a loan?” he said.

“Definitely a loan.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, and the two of you traipsed toward the road to catch a taxi to the airport.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

Midwest United States, Mid-February, 1976

“Do you realise it’s been a year?”

“Hm?” you said.

Following a show and one of Freddie’s exuberant parties, you were sitting across from Deacy, playing, of all things, Scrabble. The others had long since departed or fallen asleep in clustered heaps, alcohol-induced slumbers and post-show exhaustion finally taking hold. Indeed, Brian was asleep with his head in your lap, and you ran your fingers absently through his hair as you pondered how exactly to dismantle John’s winning Scrabble score.

John reiterated, “Do you realise it’s been a year since you came and saw us at the Union, and realised we all knew each other?”

A year. No, you hadn’t realised.

You had not realised that it had been a year since you’d walked with Brian in the sunshine, simply a planet orbiting a star, in lieu of the two-cluster of stars you’d now become, intertwined more often than not.

You had not realised that it had been a year since you’d thought you’d likely never see him again, before you’d known who he was and how your paths would undoubtedly have crossed eventually, no matter how far you might have felt from him. A year since he’d leant you a scarf that was now yours as much as it was his, a year since he’d sent you home because he was concerned you were tired, a year since he’d called you to let you know that your mutual friend was alright, since he’d wished you goodnight with such sincerity that you’d recalled the moments for weeks afterward.

You looked down at Brian, at the angular face, the soft, slack lips that always turned up in a smile at the sight of you, the planed chest you’d slept soundly against, his hands, the ridiculously long legs that accounted for ninety percent of his height, the silly wooden shoes he loved so dearly to stare at when you flustered him.

He shifted in his sleep, and you couldn’t help the smile that broke across your face, turned your composure to mush, because he really was just that beautiful.

“Y/N?”

You looked back up at John.

“No,” you replied softly. “I had no idea.”

Deacy smiled, laying down another score-boosting Scrabble word. It was some electrical engineering term, the meaning of which evaded you, but you countered with syzygy and your smile broadened, because Brian would have been proud of you for using an astronomy term. You could almost see his twinkling eyes as he pressed you to his side and murmured ‘my evening star’.

Deacy groaned as your Scrabble score passed his, rubbing tired eyes.

“Giving up, are we?” you taunted.

John yawned. “Never. I’m just postponing. We’ll finish this another day.”

You narrowed your eyes. “How are we going to remember what the board looks like, hm? No way you’re getting a second chance with a clean board.”

Deacy rolled his eyes, “Fine, fine, just give me a moment.”

He stood and soon disappeared into the adjourning room. A few moments later, he reappeared with a camera.

“I’ve stolen Roger’s polaroid camera now,” he whispered, taking care not to step on Crystal’s hand on the path back to the Scrabble table. He took a picture of the board and tossed it in your direction.

You laughed, and stifled it immediately when Deacy looked pointedly at Brian, who was, miraculously, still asleep in your lap.

“Get your boyfriend to bed,” Deacy said, pulling on his jacket.

“And how exactly am I supposed to do that?” you hissed back.

Deacy shrugged. “I don’t know. Wake him up.”

You poked your tongue out at John, who waved cheerily and departed, claiming that the time difference made now the perfect hour to phone his wife and child.

You were left on a couch, surrounded by a floor populated by overtired musicians, roadies, techies, groupies, and the most gangly person of them all preventing you from getting up.

“Bri,” you whispered, brushing the curls back from his face. “Time to go.”

A sharp intake of breath and he was awake; his hand found yours and brought it to his lips, kissing the base of your palm.

It was those little moments you cherished, betwixt the madness of it all, when small gestures quieted the world around you and you found yourself once more wandering through a dreamscape of adoration, adoration for the one who had the ability to make the world fall silent with the touch of a hand.

“Oh,” he sighed, reaching up to touch your cheek, “but I’d so much rather stay with you.”

You shook your head slightly. “Who said I was going anywhere?”

He smiled that lovely smile of his, and you sighed softly.

If you could help it, you’d never go anywhere far from him again.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

taglist: @melting-obelisks @retropetalss @hgmercury39  @topsecretdeacon @joemazzmatazz @perriwiinkle @brianmays-hair @im-an-adult-ish @ilikebigstucks @doing-albri @killer-queen-87 @n0-self-c0ntro1 @archaicmusings @cloudyyspace @annina-96​ @themarchoftherainbowqueen @annajolras @mazzell-ro

Masterpost / Part 17 / Part 19

[i-am-just-a-kiddo]

2020 content creator review

i was tagged by @vishcount as usual, thank you  💕  i answered the questions below the cut, and everyone that is tagged is there too, if you just wanna skip my ramblings and go straight down there.  (also gosh i hope all the links work rip)

1. first creation and most recent creation of 2020: 

this lan wangji oneshot, apparently. i can’t remember when i actually wrote it, but my ao3 tells me i posted it in january 2020. i remember i just wanted to explore lwj’s time of mourning and dive into his mind of that time, even if it made me eternally sad?

my most recent 2020 creation that is public, is the second chapter to this casmund/edmund character study fic i started writing in 2016. i did not expect to return to that but rewatching the narnia movies did that to me. i guess it’s one of those ever-returning fandoms

2. one of your favorite creations from 2020: 

my niemo (nie huaisang/mo xuanyu) fic, no question. diving into this, i fully knew that this pairing probably has a tiny audience and honestly, i did not expect to churn out 30k for them. god. am still suffering because why the fuck did i do that to myself (and everyone reading). thank you vishie for standing by me all the time.

3. a new style you tried this year and a gifset edit that uses it: 

my historical taegi AU set in silla korea - i don’t think it’s actually a new style writing-wise, but it was an entirely different process of creating. i did a week of only research, diving into amounts of academic texts and sources to figure out my frame and setting. it was so much fun and in the end, with everything i learned, it felt like the fic was only just the ‘by-product’ of my research. though i must say, writing the story itself was challenging in a very different way, by that i mean that the characters made me furious and yet i had to write it like that cause i like to suffer :) 

as for gifset, am not sure? i can’t think of any so i am just linking the daechwita mv cause it’s iconic. i guess this mv is more joseon inspired, while my setting was silla somewhere between the end of 7th and beginning of 8th century; but it was the final straw to finally make me write that historical taegi au i always wanted to write with hwarang tae. also this mv inspired me to have yoongi as a tyrannical king cause why not amirite?

4. a creation to be proud of: 

my wei wuxian oneshot during burial mounds; i had a lot of fun writing him and projecting all my nightmares onto him. i went in without a plan and ended up with something i am actually quite proud of? it gave me so much space and room to just...pour out my words and not worry too much about anything else. 

5. a creation that took forever: 

my post-canon wangxian adventure or qinghe chaos, as i lovingly call it. i think i started writing it in november 2019? not entirely sure about that, i only know it took ages. i wanted to create a whole new political environment, as it takes place somewhere around 70 years after canon (they wanna be immortal, shut up) and it was fun thinking of new challenges and new obstacles that face the new generation of cultivators. unfortunately i did not have the capacity to write a full blown political conflict. that’s why i never really incorporated all my thoughts into the story itself, but hey, if anyone has questions i have notes (and vishie, once again, is the most blessed person to plot with me, ily)

6. your creation from 2020 that received the most notes: 

am gonna measure this by kudos on ao3 in that case, which would be the aforementioned lwj oneshot Cold Moon, Long Nights Moon. I feel incredibly fond of it and i’m really happy that people liked it. it feels special somehow and i just want to thank everyone who read that and liked it.

7. a creation you think deserved more notes: 

oh i wrote many fics that year for smaller fandoms, which makes me grateful for every single feedback i received. i think i had hoped my previously mentioned historical AU would receive more, but it’s okay because i still loved it. 

another one is this princess sook myung/ah roh fic that i wrote for my ‘make hwarang gay again’ series. i finally finished this show and it furstrated me so much - the gay potential that went to waste, the horrendous writing for female characters. i liked the chemistry between ah roh and the princess, and yes i get it, it’s a rare pair and this fandom is kinda dead, but. the girls deserve their shine and love (though still, i am grateful for every single kudos i receive and i am still proud of it)

8. a new fandom you joined and a creation you made for it: 

i joined many new fandoms this year for which i wrote, but i want to mention my shang xirui character study for winter begonia, because it was very interesting to explore that? and i had fun too, it was one of the first things i properly wrote after my hiatus, so i felt quite proud. also once again, this fandom has way too little content and the show is underrated. 

9. a creation you made that breaks your heart: 

i wanna mention two here. first is this wen ning & song lan oneshot that was a pure joy and also very sad to write. i just love these two so much, and i love them together even more. i have many thoughts how much comfort they could give each other and believe me, i have many more that i want to explore in the future. 

the second one is the mu nihuang & xiao jingyan oneshot i wrote for the nirvana in fire gift exchange 2020. it broke my heart, but at the same time it felt like something was healing too? it hurt at the pain both characters go through, but i also felt fond that maybe, they were not alone.

10. a ‘simple’ creation that you really love: 

hmm there are a few, i mostly want to mention my fei liu character study? it has no plot or anything, it is just an exploration of his mind and thoughts, which was an absolute joy to write and somehow so easy. 

i also quite like the yyy series i started - maybe i can write more for these two because they somehow give me the feels.

11. a favorite creation created by someone else: 

alright here we go folks:

first i want to mention my dearest @vishcount because newsflash!!! i am the biggest fan. of course i need to mention your wondeful, stunning, breathtaking masterpiece that is your xicheng novel (and yes it is a novel, i say so). it is still ongoing and you started it in 2019, but i need to mention it here because it truly is something that is lifechanging. i feel so blessed that i get the front seats and vip access to all the updates, to all your thoughts and ideas. you go through a lot with it and i am never not proud of you ❤️ another one i want to mention is this wei wuxian & mo xuanyu oneshot you wrote for me because i am still crying about it. i have no words.  honourable mentions: your easter islanders (lan wangji and jiang cheng) and this xicheng soulmate au 

another creator i want to mention is @the-cloud-whisperer and their nirvana in fire fic Heroic Woman（烈婦） , which is absolutely wonderful.  i found you through your ATLA fics (which i adore) and saw you posting about nirvana in fire and this year, finally, i watched the show and was blown away. i love your other NIF fics too, but this one feels very special because i always thought li yang’s character was so incredibly fascinating. thank you for writing this 💕

for more other creations just look at my bookmarks on ao3, there is the untamed, nirvana in fire, yyy the series, hwarang, winter begonia and original sin (from 2020 and many more if you scroll further) please give everyone i mentioned love!!!!!

12. your favorite content creators and blogs that you appreciate: 

oh boy here we go. once again @vishcount, @the-cloud-whisperer, @intyalote, @sassyassassy, @isabellaofparma, @passionpeachy, @finny-red, @guzhuangheaven  @honeyiling, @holmesandwhatson  @bloody-bee-tea, @leoyunxi, @gusucloud, @ohsehuns and many many more that must slip my mind.

all of you, consider yourself tagged in this game and even if we never spoke to each other, i greatly appreciate all of you and i want to give some love. if you feel like doing this, i hope you can have fun!  💕

[fourdaysofrain]

Self-Made Man

Summary: A Trans!Tony Stark AU. 

(Lengthy, personal author’s note below the cut, if you’re interested.)

Natasha Marie Stark was born twelve minutes before midnight on May 29th, 1970. She weighed a healthy seven pounds and two ounces when she arrived. She was the most beautiful thing that either of her parents had ever seen. And she was screaming loud enough to scare the pigeons from the trees outside.

Read on AO3

Well, hey everyone. It’s been a handful of months since I’ve been on here. I want to apologize for being gone, but that feels kind of phony. I don’t know. I missed this, though. I can tell you that much. I still checked my notifications every once in a while. It made me really glad to see people still commenting on my fics or passing my links around. Love y’all. 

I guess it’s about time that I tell you that I’m trans. I have been this whole time. To answer a few quick questions, I first knew sometime in late high school, but it was always kind of in the background my whole life, I just didn’t know how to isolate the feeling. I started socially transitioning (i.e. dressing male, coming out, going by he/him) after my high school graduation, and I started HRT (Horomone replacement therapy, that means I inject myself with testosterone weekly. .33mL subcutaneously into my tummy, if you’re curious) on Oct. 12, 2018. So it’s been almost two years since, and I’ve been completely passing as a man for quite a while. Ass-crack hair, sweat, and all. 

This is a pretty personal fic for me, given the nature of it. I’ve wanted to write it for a long time, and I’ve actually had words in the Google Doc since January. It took a lot of long nights to write. It helped that I was back home. I always have an easier time tapping into Trans Emotions when I’m in my home town, for better or for worse. All the memories and relationships I formed pre-transition follow me like ghosts. 

I’m leaving for college in two days, conversationally. 

I see a lot of trans!Peter Parker fics. I’m not dissing them, I love them to bits. But it makes me wonder why fandom is so quick to headcanon Peter as trans instead of one of the other characters. He’s petite, has a higher voice, and has softer features than the other male cast members. I feel like those attributes definitely play a role. It can be easy to see trans men as “uwu soft bois”, or as Men Lite, or as a more palatable version of “normal” (that is to say, cis) men. Those ideas are often flawed and based on transphobic foundations. The reality is, trans men (and by extension, all trans people) have the ability to be indiscernible from their cis counterparts. Everyone likes to think they can pick trans people out from a crowd, but you’d be surprised how quickly I started being read as male. Androcentrism for the win, I guess. 

I won’t be entirely pessimistic. I understand that people my age project onto Peter (I am by no means exempt from that), and that there’s a greater number of young trans people than old, due to a series of depressing reasons. But I still wanted to try a different take on a trans character. 

My experience as a trans man is vastly different than the one I write about here. If anything, I’m closer to fandom’s idea of trans!Peter. My parents were accepting, I had the financial and social means to transition relatively early, and I can fly under the radar easily. The most important difference is the time period. 

I don’t know a lot about the trans experience of the 80s and 90s, which is what Tony would have gone through. I know of one single trans man who began his transition back then, one of the gender studies professors at my university. Even then, he’s from Canada, which I’m assuming has an entirely different culture around trans lives. There aren’t many older trans men. It’s depressing. There’s a lot of reasons for this. I don’t want to get too deep into them, because it only makes me feel sad. The final scene in this fic is extremely self-indulgent with regards to this. I wrote what I needed to hear. 

That’s not to say I don’t relate at all to what I wrote. There are themes that are almost universal for the trans experience. I hope you can parse those out here.

I also wanted to talk about how I showed the change from “Natasha” to Tony. In the early stages of this fic’s development, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to openly say Tony’s deadname (the name trans people are given at birth, and often, but not 100% of the time, change as a part of their transition), but I soon realized that it would make the story much clearer with the inclusion of it. If you’re wondering, I got the name from Earth-3490, where Tony is born a woman (and marries Steve, lol). I chose to show the change between the two with the use of past tense for the first half of the fic, and switching to present for Tony’s life. Often times, it feels like that when you transition. You start living in present tense. 

I also want to make it clear that transitioning isn’t as simple as shown here. From the beginning of mapping out this fic, I was stressed about “Oh, how will he be able to graduate as Tony if he doesn’t start transitioning until after he gets to college,” and “How will Howard react to him coming out?” and “How will he have a playboy persona if he isn’t able to have sex with someone without them knowing?” and a zillion other ideas. It was very freeing for me to let go of some of these obstacles and leave it up to the reader to decide. I alluded to some of the solutions that I came up with, but for the most part, I glossed over the paperwork and bureaucracy aspect to transitioning. But in real life, there are countless red tapes you have to cut for even the simplest of actions. I went to the state court to change my name and sex in March of 2019, and I still have cards in my wallet with my deadname. I had a consult with a plastic surgeon for top surgery (the colloquial name for the double mastectomy that trans men often go through to masculinize their chests. If you’re wondering, genital reconstruction surgery is normally called bottom surgery to mirror this) last December, and I still don’t have a date set. It took me a few months to start T, and I only got it so easily because I went through my unviersity, which does informed consent. Some places have to have proof of 6 months of social transitioning and a letter from a therapist. There is a lot of medical gate keeping in the trans community. I don’t know what I would have done had my parents not been accepting enough to help me through the processes. I am extremely thankful for their support. 

But it’s a lot easier to write about transition happening smoothly. Money helps, which I don’t touch on a lot in this fic, but oh my God, does money help. I’m lucky enough to be able to afford my ~$20 a month T prescription (which I will be taking until the end of my days, likely), and I’m in the process of saving for top surgery. Thankfully with Tony, I can just presto most of the problems away because he’s canonically a billionaire. Eat the rich, folks.

There’s also the intersection with race that is very impactful for trans people, as it is for everyone. Both Tony and I are white, which gives us societal privileges that trans people of color don’t have access to. As well as the fact that transitioning from female to male is a much different experience than transitioning from male to female. We don’t experience trans misogyny, which is a special kind of misogyny specifically related to trans women. (Think of old sitcoms where the joke is that it’s a man dressed in women’s clothing, and that’s what makes it funny. That’s a fairly tame example of trans misogyny. It gets ugly fast.) 

I’m veering dangerously off-topic, but it’s important to talk about. It’s easy for white trans people (and LGBT people as a whole, I suppose) to distance themselves from talking about white privilege or male privilege because they aren’t straight and/or cis. But it’s important to recognize that while we may face unique oppression, we also still benefit from historical white supremacist and patriarchal structures present today in society. 

Sorry, not sorry for getting political. And if I haven’t said it on here, Black lives matter. Of course. 

If you end up having trans-related questions, I want to be a resource for you. Seriously, I’m narcissistic and love talking about myself I don’t mind helping you understand the trans experience. I can’t promise that I know everything, but I also have my own group of trans friends who might know what I don’t, and we can learn together. 

Again, love y’all. Thank you for the continued support you give me. I can’t promise that I’ll go back to my normal level of activity on here, but I might dip my feet back in the pool. <3

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics With Titles That Start With C Masterlist

Links Last Checked: October 15th, 2021

part two

Cact Us (ao3) - dnpgays

Summary: Space!dan gets a new neighbour who just happens to be a cute boy with a love for plants.

call it magic (ao3) - immortalcomet

Summary: Phil knew dating a mortal could come with complications, but he never thought it’d be the same one over and over again.

Or: the one where Phil’s a witch, Dan’s not, and when Phil tries to break the news to him, Dan doesn’t believe him at all.

Calm The Storm In My Head - cactiphan

Summary: After the Tour, Dan’s anxiety becomes worse and worse. Dan has a major panic attack after filming a horror game for spooky week and has a breakdown, but Phil is there to pick up all the pieces and promises to help him on his journey back to feeling calmer.

Camp Crystal Lake (ao3) - dizzy, waveydnp

Summary: Something isn't quite the same at camp this year.

Candle in the Window (ao3) - starboydjh

Summary: Veritas (noun): Verity or truth. Harvard University’s motto since 1836.

Taking a job across the ocean away from his family, Phil Lester, a quirky literature professor, never really felt at home in the storied halls of Harvard University or the historic streets of Cambridge, Massachusetts. He meets another out of place professor of Philosophy at Harvard named Daniel Howell on a blind date set up by their coworker, and takes a newfound interest in Doctor Howell’s courses after their date.

Cat and Mouse - jilliancares

Summary: Dan Howell is the Panther. He’s evil, nefarious, ingenious, and good at coming up with adjectives for himself. The Raven is a nuisance, but he’s definitely the most fun part when it comes to being a villain. As a child, Dan had been scared of his powers. He’d been weak. He’d become strong, though. Strong enough to torment the city; strong enough to annoy the Raven with every opportunity he got.

Phil Lester only had one goal these days. To become strong enough to defeat the Panther.

Chocolates, Flowers, Poems, And Other Ways To Say “I Hate You” - placingglaciers

Summary: In which Dan is determined to show his feelings for Phil, the boy from school who barely knows him, before Valentine’s Day the only way he truly knows how.

Church Boy - shookethbrooketh

Summary: Phil’s lived in the same town and gone to the same church his entire life. But when his pastor leaves, a new one comes in, with his teenage son Dan in tow. He’s broken; real broken. And he thinks Phil’s just another church boy that’s going to hate him just as much as everyone else he’s ever met, but maybe he’s just going to be the one that can fix all his broken parts.

Class A Klutz (ao3) - bokeae

Summary: Dan's an asshole who stars in high quality films and Phil's just a clumsy idiot who has bad timing.

Climb Down (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: Dan is three stories up while Phil is below, shouting to each other across the distance. He feels likes he is trapped up here in his tower, waiting for someone to rescue him, perhaps.

Climbing The Ladder - kawaii-kanai

Summmary: Punk!Dan and Punk/TattooArtist!Phil both struggle to find themselves after past event that have shaken their trust in other people and in themselves.

Coffee At Midnight (ao3) - waveydnp

Summary: A recent trauma has lead Phil to embrace a ‘try new things’ approach to his life. One of those new things is learning how to swim, and Dan is the lifeguard who’s going to teach him.

Cold, Empty Mattresses and Falling Stars - phanlight

Summary: 2009 au where Phil and his family own a campground/cabins in an area that is known for stargazing and Phil has lived his entire life there, therefore knowing a lot about stars. Dan and his family come from the city to said campground because Dan is a nerd and asked to come there for his birthday.

Cold Fingers (ao3) - itsmyusualphannie (itsmyusualday)

Summary: It all starts because dan stole the blankets.

Comfort Rests Beside Me Tonight - phanqueray

Summary: It’s weird how much one event can lead to certain events after it and how it’s so fun to look up the stars and how I stare and fall in love with you.

Crash Barriers, Cold Night Air - philsdrill

Summary: It’s a bumpy night on the tour bus for Dan and Phil, and Phil’s feeling a little sick. Through a trip outside to get off the bus, and a reminder of what dinner looked like, Dan takes care of Phil. Fluff.

Crazy, Stupid, You And Me - imnotinclinedtomaturity

Summary: In the middle of a fight, Dan accidentally screams out his true feelings for Phil. In a panic, he runs out the the apartment (and London) before Phil has the chance to react.

Creatively Borrowed - thespianhowell

Summary: It’s not easy being away from someone after being right next to them for nearly four years. So both Dan and Phil borrow tokens to comfort themselves when they have to sleep alone.

Crisis Over The Blue Moon (ao3) - AmazingFrerard

Summary: In which two of England's favourite Youtubers have superpowers.

Crow & The Butterfly (ao3) - HeartsAndSpades

Summary: Dan was once a boy with dreams, that was before his life went out of whack, his mental state crumbled, and his parents screamed for hours. Dan had nobody, he was nobody, but then Phil, A ray of sunshine and hope came along. Will Phil fix Dan or just get hurt trying?

[aladygrieve]

Merlin/Arthur Fic Rec

** - Favourite

FANDOM CLASSICS

Castle (The Rules by Which We Live) by kickflaw Word count: 16,200 Summary: Merlin knows that getting off fastest when he’s got some BDSM porno playing loud on the computer doesn’t mean he’d really like to be that bloke, gagged and bent over and bound. Right? Notes: Modern AU and the best BDSM I’ve ever read.

Destiny That Darkly Hides Us by Nympha_Alba Word count: 63,000 Summary: It’s 1913, the practice of homosexuality is unlawful, so is the practice of magic. When Arthur Pendragon and Merlin Emrys meet as Cambridge undergrads, they’re both hungry for a real and true connection without secrets. For a short time they believe they may have found it. But war breaks out and separates them, and it seems unlikely that they will meet again. After all, what are the odds? Notes: Includes reincarnation!

Drastically Redefining Protocol by rageprufrock Word count: 46,000 WIP Summary:In which Prince Arthur meets Merlin and all hell promptly breaks loose. Notes: Modern AU in which Merlin is a chain-smoking med student and Arthur is the womanizing Prince of Wales. Includes several companion stories.

**The Student Prince by FayJay Word count: 145,200 Summary: A modern day Merlin AU set at the University of St Andrews, featuring teetotal kickboxers, secret wizards, magnificent bodyguards of various genders, irate fairies, imprisoned dragons, crumbling gothic architecture, arrogant princes, adorable engineering students, stolen gold, magical doorways, attempted assassination, drunken students, shaving foam fights, embarrassing mornings after, The Hammer Dance, duty, responsibility, friendship and true love… Notes: Because really, no rec list is complete without the novel-length jewel of the Merlin fandom. It’s plotty, beautifully written and perfectly in-character, and is especially dear to my heart now that I’ve actually visited St. Andrews. I highly recommend the podfic, as FayJay is an incredible reader.

REINCARNATION/FINALE-COMPLIANT

Hold My Heart Until it Beats by ingberry Word count: 1920 Summary: Arthur dies and waits for Albion to need him again. But most of all he waits for Merlin. Notes: Great use of the Arthur waits trope.

**Hopeless Wanderer by Magnolia822 Word count: 18,500 Summary: Merlin has been wandering the world for hundreds of years alone; one day a young blond man moves into the flat upstairs. But does Arthur remember? Notes: Still my all-time favourite reincarnation fic.

I Keep Going Over the World We Knew (Over and Over) by Mellacita Word count: 51,100 Summary: When Merlin Emrys is sent on a ‘round-the-world assignment, he begins remembering a life of magic, dragons, and kings. To make matters worse, a strange woman starts stalking him along the way. And that’s before he even meets Arthur Pendragon, whose answer to climate change is going to save the world. Because apparently just saving Britain won’t be enough this time around. Notes: Plotty and intricate and very, very cool.

Let Your Heart Hold Fast by Acavall Word count: 3000 Summary: Merlin waits for Arthur’s return, and the only way to hold on to his memories is to write them down. Over and over, again and again, as history marches by. Notes: Works interesting historical references into the reincarnation deal.

Never Let Me Go by LadyVader Word count: 3500 Summary: Merlin has walked the world for a long time waiting for his friends return. Notes: Great use of the rest of the characters.

Now I Will Unsettle the Ground Beneath You by nu_breed Word count: 42,300 Summary: Merlin’s dreams have always fuelled his art, but they’ve always been abstract and removed from reality. Soon after he meets Gwaine, he starts to see vivid images of a past full of death and magic and love for a King who was ripped from him. Things only escalate further when he spends a weekend in the country with Gwaine and meets his group of friends, which includes aristocrat and It Boy, Arthur Pendragon. Merlin soon realises that no matter how hard you try, one thing is certain, you can’t fuck with destiny. Notes: Merlin’s dating Gwaine but he and Arthur can’t keep their hands off each other. I love it.

Old Love, But in Shapes That Renew and Renew Forever by leopardwrites Word count: 3500 Summary: People accept that an old man might live alone. People understand that he might have lost the greatest love he has ever known. Notes: Fics that deal with old!Merlin are never not going to be gut-wrenching.

CANON ERA

A Bet by juxtapose Word count: 1100 Summary: In which the Knights stumble upon a private moment between the Prince and his manservant, Leon is uncomfortable, and Gwaine decides to make a bet. Notes: All the knights are fantastic in this one.

The Accidental Seduction by Ras Elased Word count: 9000 Summary: Arthur’s a bit dim and a prank goes horribly awry, but in the end this works out to the benefit of all involved. Notes: Almost unbearably adorable.

**Finding Home by riventhorn Word count: 7860 Summary: When Gaius retires, a new physician takes over, one that quickly kicks Merlin out of his room and takes it for himself, Arthur finds Merlin sleeping in the stables..and it’s winter. Notes: Good old-fashioned hurt/comfort with a dash of fluff. Probably my favourite canon-era fic.

**Fools of Us All by adelagia Word count: 11,100 Summary: Merlin accidentally makes everybody in Camelot fall in love with him. Everybody except Arthur, that is. Notes: Cute, funny and very in-character.

Freedom Hangs Like Heaven by derryere Word count: 9000 Summary: It’s happened five times and they don’t talk about it. Notes: The unresolved romantic tension will end you.

The Greater Bond by ravenflight21 Word count: 15,500 Summary: When Arthur is kidnapped by slavetraders, Merlin has only one option: to buy him. Playing Arthur’s master has its drawbacks – but it also has extraordinary compensations. Notes: Fabulous trope that also includes fancy dress. What more do you want?

**A Heavy Heart to Carry by ThursdayNext Word count: 12,561 Summary: When Merlin is captured and injured, Arthur must face up to his own feelings for his manservant as well as the many secrets he discovers are being kept from him. Notes: I think this might have been the first merthur fic I ever read. It’s Cold Outside by ionionie Word count: 2500 Summary: Merlin and Arthur get trapped in a cave on a freezing cold night. How do they stay warm? Notes: I’m such a sucker for this trope it’s actually sad.

**Meteorology by fayhe Word count: 4600 Summary: Character study with spot-on cameos from Uther, Morgana, Gaius and even Kilgarrah. Notes: Best Gen.

So That I Might Be Where You Areby cherrybina Word count: 4600 Summary: When a spell goes wrong, Merlin and Arthur are linked together in an unusual way, which leads to lots and lots of UST. Notes: Not kidding about the UST, which works surprisingly well. **Stars Above, Stones Below by Destina Word count: 46,800 Summary: After the disastrous end of his betrothal to Gwen and the regret of his offer to Princess Mithian, Arthur swears off finding a wife until he’s ready to wed. When Merlin offers himself to Arthur as bedmate, Arthur suggests they hand-fast in secret for a single year of mutual pleasure without obligation. As their year together unfolds, and secrets and betrayals unravel around them, Arthur and Merlin learn there is no such thing as uncomplicated pleasure. Everything they thought they knew can change in the span of a single year. Notes: Another one of my absolute favourites. Winterbloom by Shinybug Word count: 6200 Summary: Deep in the woods in the frozen heart of winter, a careless comment leads to a redefinition of Arthur’s relationship with his manservant. Notes: Emotionally-constipated boys shivering in the cold will always be one of my favourite things.

MODERN AU

A Change of Pace by kianspo Word count: 54,600 Summary: The one in which Arthur works in finances and his suits are various (two) shades of grey, Merlin works in advertisement and has no boundaries whatsoever, Morgana drinks rum, Mithian stages a coup, Agravaine is aggravating, and Elena’s house is amazing. Also, Andy Warhol is mentioned in vain, and Arthur and Merlin fall in love in Victorian era style. Notes: In which Arthur has a structured, ordered, boring life, until Merlin comes along.

This Silly ol’ Dance is Perfect for Two by SlantedKnitting Word count: 80,500 Summary: Arthur is young, gorgeous, talented, and captain of one of the best football teams in England; his life should be perfect. But he can’t keep a girlfriend for more than a few months, and it’s not just because he isn’t ready to settle down. When his most recent girlfriend dumps him, he has a rough night at the pub and has to be dragged home by his neighbour, Merlin. Merlin is an archivist, a Ph.D student, and he hates football almost as much as he hates Arthur. They both have their own reasons for not wanting to spend time with each other, but after that disastrous night, remaining silent neighbors doesn’t seem like much of an option anymore. Notes: Plotty and original. Wicked Game by winterstorm Word count: 42,400 Summary: Arthur’s the King of Camelot…nightclub. He can pick and choose who he wants, and he does – often – no promises and absolutely no repeats. The night he chooses Merlin might just be his undoing. Notes: Slight age difference.

[backofthebookshelf]

Book Recs for Magnus Archives Fans

I was just rambling in tags the other day about how my avatarsona was "the Archivist, but a public librarian: Oh, you like dirt?? Let me tell you all the dirt stories I have!!!!" so, uh, here I am I guess.

I'm gonna spare you all the M.R. James and Algernon Blackwood and House of Leaves and Blindsight; you know all that already. These are my horror backlist recs.

The Bone Key by Sarah Monette Y'all. Y'ALL. Kyle Murchison Booth was absolutely the Archivist before Gertrude. He was poached from the Parrington by the Usher Foundation and the Eye glommed onto him at once, because the Eye loves disaster queers who can't people right (and also Gertrude). This I believe to be true, and so will you.

Kyle Murchison Booth is an archivist at the Parrington Museum, which is somewhere in New England, sometime in the early twentieth century. He also has a lifelong entanglement with the supernatural which is almost entirely not his fault, and he would very much like it to stop, but he also feels responsible and he can't just let evil mirrors and cursed necklaces and possessed dressing gowns randomly eat people who have no idea what's happening. Even if it means he's going to suffer for it.

(This collection doesn't contain all of the Booth stories, so here I am going to link to "White Charles", which happens to be my very favorite Booth story.)

For you if your favorite part is: honestly everything about MAG, from the modern sensibilities about early twentieth-century-horror, truly eerie ghost stories, to suffering eldritch librarians (thanks to whoever tagged my most recent fic with that you're so valid), monsterfucking and soft gay pining. No happy endings here, sorry.

Bedfellow by Jeremy C. Shipp You may or may not have heard that Macmillan-Tor is launching a horror imprint, and I don't know how long it's been since a major publishing house has had a horror imprint, but I am EXCITE. This book is part of the trend that's the reason why: Tor.com has been publishing these kickass novellas for a couple years now, and their horror books are top notch.

One night a stranger knocks on a family's living room window and asks to be invited in. They ask him to stay the night. He's an old friend, after all, he needs a place to stay. You can't kick out your twin brother when he's just gotten divorced, no matter how much Gatorade he spills on your two-year-old hardwood floors.

For you if your favorite part is: the Stranger, this is all Stranger, it's terrifying and good.

Through the Woods by Emily Carroll A graphic novel, some of these were originally posted as webcomics (have you seen His Face All Red, and if not, why not???) and the only disadvantage to having them in book form is they can't blink at you. Probably. Very folktale-ish, with all the death and violence that implies, and also the slightly eerie feeling that you know this story already, and then it turns around and slaps you.

For you if your favorite part is: looking over your shoulder when the foley gets good; Once Upon a Time in Space (I know that's not technically part of the Magnus Archives but shush)

Universal Harvester by John Darnielle I am not usually a fan of artists who jump media. Just because you can write songs doesn't mean you can write novels. Apparently writing good songs doesn't mean you can't write good novels, though, because John Darnielle of The Mountain Goats (pretty sure that's his full name at this point) wrote Universal Harvester and I love him for it.

Jeremy works at a video rental place in Nevada, Iowa (it's pronounced Nah-vey-da, and yes it’s real, I've been there, and yes, it's probably haunted). It's the 1990s, and someone's been returning their VHS tapes with something on them that isn't just the movie. Footage that includes a barn that he recognizes, just outside of town.

Fair warning: this is not the kind of mystery that gets tied up in a nice bow at the end.

For you if your favorite part is: Jon losing it with paranoia in S2, The People's Church of the Divine Host, the Lonely

The Good House by Tananarive Due If this author's name is unfamiliar to you, RUN, do not walk, to your nearest internet bookseller and purchase every single one of her books immediately, you will not regret it. She also just came out with a documentary on black horror, Horror Noire, on the Shudder streaming service. They've got a free month if you aren't a horror movie person, it'd be worth your while. This book summary sounds like it's full of tropes. It is, but Due has the cred to write them well.

Angela Toussaint hopes to salvage her suffering marriage and her troubled relationship with her teenage son with a trip to her grandmother's house, a home so beloved the locals in small-town Washington state call it "The Good House," but tragedy strikes instead. Two years later she returns and finds that the tragedy isn't over, and it's not going to stop on its own.

For you if your favorite part is: the very practical statement-givers who know what's happening to them and Will Not Put Up With This Shit, the Desolation, the Hill Top Road statements

The Library at Mount Char by Scott Hawkins Is this horror disguised as fantasy? Found family disguised as horror? Grown-up Neil Gaiman? Less grimdark George R.R. Martin? Honestly I have no fucking idea, but it's amazing. Fair warning, unlike Magnus Archives, this deserves all kinds of trigger warnings, including but not necessarily limited to: sexual assault, torture, mental manipulation, dysfunctional families, incest(?)

Father is missing, and his twelve children (though extremely talented in their own ways, and not strictly speaking children any more) are at a loss without him. But also, without him, things are starting to seem different. He might be God? They might not be human? (They were probably human once.) He might not be God but maybe one of them might be next? If any of them survive.

For you if your favorite part is: slowly turning into a monster, the relationships between entities and avatars, monsters hot (not kidding about the trigger warnings)

The Loney by Andrew Michael Hurley I have to keep reminding myself that Magnus Archives isn't really folk horror, there are two separate (if related) strains of British horror here and folk horror is not the one we're on, but at the same time I really want a good creepy rural pagan cult to show up in the series, you know? Anyway.

When he was a child, our narrator used to go with his family on an Easter pilgrimage to shrine on a bleak stretch of Lancaster coastline locals called The Loney. His Catholic mother was searching for a cure for his older brother, and she was convinced if they kept going long enough she would be granted her wish. The locals, however, are not huge fans of her annual visits, and even less so when the boys become involved with the goings-on of a pair of glamorous tourists.

For you if your favorite part is: the Lukases, I didn't realize until I was writing this up that I'm picturing Moreland House in the exact place described by this book

Eutopia by David Nickle One thing I love about the historical statements in Magnus Archives is just how truly historical they are. There's almost nothing in "The Piper" that isn't historically accurate - yes, Wilfrid Owen spent several days in a trench underneath the shredded bodies of his fellow soldiers. Like. You can't make up horror worse than that. But then you add monsters and it gets good. And I'm a sucker for early-twentieth-century history, it's such a bonkers time.

It's 1911 and the new Eugenics Record Office is sending agents out to catalog the disabled, infirm, and otherwise undesirable members of society so they can figure out what to do about them. In the utopian town of Eliada, Idaho, Dr. Andrew Waggoner runs from the racism of American society and straight into the influence of Mister Juke, the most troubling patient in his new practice. (Trigger warnings for, obviously, a whole lot of ableism. Treated like the monstrousness it is, but there's a lot of it.)

For you if your favorite part is: learning history through horror, the Flesh

A Head Full of Ghosts by Paul Tremblay I hate male writers writing about teenage girls, so you are going to have to trust me when I say that I had to check, several times while reading this book, to make sure that Paul Tremblay is actually a dude. He's very good. This book was kind of his breakout, so if you follow horror you've read it already, but if you don't necessarily then please do not miss it. His newer ones, Disappearance at Devil's Rock (Stranger, Spiral) and The Cabin at the End of the World (Slaughter, Extinction), are also good but not as good as this, I think.

Fourteen-year-old Marjorie is having a rough time - outbursts, hallucinations, paranoia. Treatment is difficult (and expensive) and her family ambivalent; they turn to a local Catholic priest, who recommends an exorcism and, to help manage those medical bills, a production company who's interested in filming a reality TV show about the process. Fifteen years later, Marjorie's sister deconstructs the now-famous show and wrestles with her own memories of childhood. Trigger warnings for ableism on the part of many of the characters, but not the narrative.

For you if your favorite part is: the Spiral, metafictional analysis of horror tropes