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#formation of russian fairytales fandom
dhr-ao3 · 4 months
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[Podfic] Between Pages
[Podfic] Between Pages https://ift.tt/eEfDLGP by PaperCraneAudiobooks First Year Hermione Granger couldn't wait to send her beloved fairytale collection to her anonymous book exchange partner, complete with a lovingly written note. In return she's given a very rare potions journal and a note written on expensive stationery: I like this book because potions are interesting. Don’t feel too bad if I’m top of our class. Podfic of Between Pages by DarkoftheMoon. Words: 22, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Book Exchange, secret pen pals, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, inappropriate use of the library, POV Hermione Granger, Head Girl Hermione Granger, Head Boy Draco Malfoy, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian, Explicit Sexual Content, Podfic, Podfic Length: 30-45 Minutes, Audio Format: M4B, Audio Format: Streaming, Audio Format: Download via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/O0CfF9S May 19, 2024 at 07:58PM
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russianfolklore · 4 years
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Russian fairytales aesthetic [fancast] - Люби да не спокидывай / Love me and never leave me.
From description:
Fandom: Russian fairytales + some OC/fancast thoughts.
Pairing: Ivan Tsarevich/Vasilisa the Wise (Dmitri Pisarenko/Natalya Sayko fancast).
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randomfandomfiction · 5 years
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An Introduction to Viktuuri pt.2
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part one
I’m back with another list of fics I think deserve to be considered fandom classics and essential reading!
(in order of length)
katsuki_fc wrote by tetsurashian (12k, Gen)
Just because Yuuri isn't big on social media, doesn't mean his fans aren't.
(aka a social media fic)
this fic is really well done and super cute for an outsider pov fic and the author got the formatting down pat!
life and love by novocaine_sea (12k, Gen)
“You showed me life and love and that’s something I can never forget. Thank you for that, Victor.” Twenty-two year old Yuuri Katsuki travels to Italy to study photography. One day, while going around the city taking photos he gets lost and ends up at a coffee shop, ultimately meeting one Victor Nikiforov who would take him all around Florence, showing him what life and love are really all about.
Italian Viktor!! Falling in love! So cuuuuuuuuute!
Healthy Impropriety by mtothedestiel (29k, Explicit)
Victor is the wealthy master of the Nikiforov estate.  At a society party he's swept off his feet by the mysterious, suave, and very drunk Katsuki Yuuri.  Victor aims to declare his love and secure Mr. Katsuki's hand in marriage, but first he has to find him!
it’s like the best kind of jane austen novel!! it’s cute, I love the setting, there’s some smut, and the infamous banquet is included
Unwritten by kaizuka (34k, T+)
Soulmates AU where whatever you write on your own skin appears on your soulmate, but when there is a language barrier, meeting becomes just a little more difficult than it should be.
This is one of the first yoi fics I ever read and I’m still totally in love with it
Yuuri Enchanted by the__magpie (57k, T+)
At birth, Yuuri Katsuki was given the gift of obedience, although he quickly learns as he grows up that it is a curse. He has to obey any command given to him, even if it puts him or others in danger. Too afraid to face the terrifying outside world, Yuuri stays in his home town of Hasetsu, until a chance encounter with Prince Victor urges him to venture outside of his safe bubble. Determined to break his curse, Yuuri begins on an adventure involving fairies, ogres, true love, and courage he never knew he had.
I love Ella Enchanted! I love Viktuuri! Perfect combination!
Like a Fairytale by lucycamui (73k, T+)
In which Prince Victor gets swept off his feet at a royal banquet and will go to any length to find his 'Cinderella' Yuuri. (And Phichit is the fairy godmother who has no idea what he's doing).
 “The crown prince of the Nikiforov kingdom, infatuated with a mystery pastry chef he’s only just met. This is exactly the kind of scandalous love story my life has been missing… So, what’s he look like? What exactly is Prince Victor’s type?”
 “…Sweet.”
 “Well, he does make pastries."
A cute, fluffy, piney fairytale!!
like your french girls by ebenroot (101k, T+)
"Victor," Yuri begins, lowering the eighteenth sketch of the figure skater Victor drew this week, "you have a fucking problem."
--
in which Victor is an artist, Yuuri is his figure skating muse, and Yuri is so done hearing about their stupid love story through Instagram
artist viktor being whipped for his muse yuuri is music to my ears
Lessons in Love by fangirlandiknowit (143k WIP, Mature)
All Viktor wants is for his son to be happy - and if that means spending countless hours at the ice rink, a million more in the ballet studio, and devotedly cheering for Katsuki Yuuri at every competition he enters, then that is precisely what he'll do.
He just didn't expect to become a fan, too.
(He didn't expect to fall in love.)
This is so cuuuuuute~ Viktor is adorable and and Yuuri is lovely and I LOVE the Viktor as Yurio’s dad trope
Into the Deep by Ars_Matron (181k, Explicit)
For five years the mysterious pirate ship, the Eros, has tormented the eastern seas. The most heinous of their crimes, the abduction of omegas from their very homes. Some merely children.
Viktor Nikiforov, captain of the Russian military's fastest ship the Agape, has dedicated his life to finding the infamous pirate pack. Rescuing the omegas that he can, and avenging those beyond his reach.
But Viktor's never gotten close to the Eros. He doesn't even know who he's chasing. And the years of arriving too late are beginning to wear on him. If he cannot find them soon the mission and his command will be taken from him.  
A new lead in the mission may be just the break he's been waiting for. After five devastating years he'll do anything it takes to catch the Eros and her crew and bring them to justice. And finally he will have vengeance for the innocent souls that were lost along the way.
I LOVE THIS FIC!!!! It’s ABO but honestly it’s done so well - even if you don’t usually like ABO fic it’s probable that you’d like this one. The plot is so good and I ADORE Yuuri’s characterisation. This is a true rec from me
Beside the Dancing Sea by lily_winterwood, MapleTreeway (186k, Explicit)
He’s finally here in this lovely and quiet little beach cottage, and the rest of the year seems to stretch out infinitely before him. Time will pass, though, and it will pass faster than he realises, but in the meantime he will stop worrying about writer’s block and deadlines and not even having the foggiest clue what his next novel’s going to be about, and live.
New York Times-bestselling author Viktor Nikiforov arrives in the sleepy seaside town of Torvill Cove to cure his writer's block. After encountering local wallflower Yuuri Katsuki at a party, he discovers that this mysterious dark-haired man has a couple secrets up his sleeve.
And Viktor will be damned if he doesn't find out just what those secrets are.
Another true true true rec! This is one of my favourite mythology/supernatural aus - it has so much heart. It’s so sweet and soft, but also beautifully written and with a healthy dose of angst. Bonus points for a respectful and honest depiction of a disability!
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novantinuum · 6 years
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A Tale of Two Trollhunters (Ch. 1)
AO3
Fandoms: Gravity Falls, Trollhunters
Rating: T
Words: ~2800
Summary: Glass Shard Beach, 1967. When the trollhunter Kanjigar perishes years before he was supposed to, the amulet of daylight finds its next champion in a seventeen year old Stanley Pines. Now essential in the destiny of both the trolls' subterranean world and the human one above, Stan, along with his twin brother and girlfriend, must fight to protect both worlds from the dark forces creeping in at the edges.
But destiny has a way of being unpredictable.
A Gravity Falls/Trollhunters fusion AU. Kind of a drabble series?
Note: Little to no knowledge of Trollhunters is required to understand this, I think, since Stan is going to discover this world for himself.
Next chapter
It all started a lifetime ago... in a place called Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey. The beachside town’s name preceded its reputation, its shorelines covered in the razor sharp, glittering remains of broken beer bottles. Scattered among the glass, a diligent child might occasionally find a shard of quartz or another translucent mineral, but regardless it’s recommended that one doesn’t dare romp along the shore barefooted, least they slice the bottoms of their feet raw. This was the warning delivered to a young Stanley Pines every time he and his twin brother left their apartment to spend the day at the beach. Predictably, he ignored his mother’s words entirely. He liked feeling the rough gristle of sand between his toes, and a little glass wasn’t about to scare him away from that pleasure. Since, wasn’t glass just superheated crushed rock anyways? He wiggled his bare toes in the wet sand, watching as the horizon over the ocean became darker and darker, the sun setting behind him. “Hey Stan, come here,” his brother called, waving at him from the underside of the docks, right where they jutted out from the busy boardwalk. “Have you seen this?” He pulled himself to his feet with a grunt, and traversed the perilous dunes with a studied precision, nimbly hopping from one safe spot to the next. Tonight he hadn’t stepped on any glass at all, at least not yet. Finally, he reached his brother, who stood next to a large pile of rubble. Rubble. Oh boy, he knew where this conversation was going. He crossed his arms, feeling a chuckle bubbling up inside him. “That’s a pile of rocks,” he stated glibly, watching his brother’s face closely. “Yes, and there’s markings, perhaps even runes on them,” Ford exclaimed, picking up a chunk of rock and running his fingers across its smooth surface. “Ford, come on, I know you like your spooky conspiracy theories and everythin’, but,” he said with a heavy sigh, picking up a split piece and bouncing it in the palm of his hand, “we all know there’s no such thing as rock people.” His twin shook his head, winds of denial stirring around him in the air. He knelt next to the odd crumbled formation, squinting at the rubble through thick lenses. He splayed his fingers, all six, across an unusually smooth section of the rock, and deep down Stan knew this was indeed why Ford found himself so invested in the theory of unusual creatures and anomalies in the first place. “No, no, no, look, really look at the curvature of this,” he said. “It looks like part of a shoulder. It’s buffed too smooth to be a mere coincidence of nature.” “Okay, so,” Stan shrugged, “maybe it’s just a statue, y’know? Somethin’ from town. Kids steal stuff and smash it on the beach all the time.” Ford rose to his feet, desperation reflected in the width of his eyes. He held the broad shoulder piece to his chest, mouth pressed into a thin line. “I know what I saw this morning, Stan! There were two of them, fighting near these docks-“ “And I’m tellin’ ya’, it was still pretty dark. I’m sure what you saw was just two large guys duking it out, all right?” Stan grabbed the edge of the dock, used a stray nail sticking out of the post as a foothold, and boosted himself up. He swung his other leg onto the wooden deck. “Listen, Sixer, I think your theories are real interesting, okay? They’d make really good stories, I honestly think that.” With a grunt, he used his hands to push his full body weight onto the dock, letting out a breath of relief when he was settled. “But you can’t just yell it to everyone you see, else they all gonna think you’re crazy.” He offered a hand to his brother. With a huff Ford declined, opting to climb up the stairs a few feet to their left. When he met up with Stan on the dock, the teen was cradling his foot, prodding at callused skin. “Youch,” he muttered, and as he took his finger away Ford could see a small spot of blood. “Should’ve known the nail was a bad idea. Welp, I’ll patch it up when we get home. You ready?” Ford nodded, still carrying the chunk of rock. “I’m not crazy,” he said quietly, taking one last glance at the stony formation on the shore. “I know I’m not crazy.”
____
“Hey, Dad,” Stan greeted with a hesitant grin as he edged through the side door of the pawn shop. “Just, uh- just gettin’ a bandaid, so-“ “Haven’t we warned you about walking over the glass without shoes?” he father muttered, surely leveling him the look from behind his tinted glasses. “Yeah, well it wasn’t glass this time, it was a nail on the docks,” he said, opening the nearest drawer and rummaging through its contents. “Don’t be a smart ass. You know what we mean.” His dad picked up a weathered cardboard box from the floor, filled to the brim with old artifacts and jewelry. The shelves were bare, items carefully placed on a side table. He must be taking time to organize and dust the pawn shop, which he only really did when he obtained something special and new. Stan found the box of bandages, and unwrapped one for his foot. “D’ya get anything cool in today? Anything worth a buck?” he asked, plastering it over his wound. “Actually, yes,” his dad nodded, and walked over to the table of goods. His hand wrapped around a circular object, a metallic disk. “Someone came by and sold this just this morning. I’ve never seen anything quite like it, or the kind of symbols written along the side.” Stan squinted at the writing on the disk his father displayed to him. “Is that some sorta... Russian?” “Cyrillic, son,” he corrected him with a frown. “And no. I’ve appraised enough old family heirlooms to recognize most forms of writing. I don’t recognize this at all. In that case, it might be an artifact rare enough to actually be worth something.” “Huh,” Stan muttered, appraising the object himself. It was fashioned from a shiny, blemish-less metal, with the unknown script carved all the way along the rim. Some sort of shimmering blue crystal was inset in the middle, along with a series of metal dials and rings. It reminded him a little of the gears in his great aunt’s grandfather clock. The blue crystal softly glowed as he grasped it in his palm. “Stanley Pines,” a gruff, commanding voice whispered. “Yeah, Dad?” he asked, swinging around. His father blinked in confusion. “I- didn’t say anything.” “But, you called my name? I just heard you.” “Wasn’t me,” he shrugged, pulling down the brim of his hat. “Perhaps it was your mother. In fact, go bother her instead, Stan. I’ve got work to take care of before I close.” “Fine,” he said hollowly, retreating up the steps and into the apartment. He kicked at the doorpost, bottom lip jutted out. He saw how it was. After all, it’s not like his father was particularly affectionate or agreeable in manner. Least, not with him. Now seventeen years old, Stan sometimes feared his dad would never see him as anything else than a directionless bum. And the worst part? Maybe he was right. ____ Stan lay in his bed buried in the folds of his blanket, back ramrod straight. On this fateful night, he straddled that dreadful line between complete exhaustion and yet inability to rest. The reasoning? Far too much was on his mind- from his conversation by the docks with Ford earlier, to the date he had later this week with Carla, to his father’s hurtful dismissal, and now… “Stanley... Stanley Pines...” That weird glowy amulet thing. Stan pressed his hands flush against his face, and groaned in frustration. Oh, who was he kidding? There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight. At least, not with that creepy, low voice constantly calling out his name. He rolled over, further tangling himself in his sea of blankets until he was comfortable, and drank in the sound of his brother’s quiet snoring from the bunk above.   “Stanley Pines...” A strange sense of connection- of belonging- strummed in his heart like the discovery of a harmonious chord. No matter what distractions he fed himself all he could think about was that amulet, about its warmth when he held it yesterday evening, its blue, pulsing glow. Somehow it felt as if... something within it was reaching out towards him, electrifying his nerves and latching onto his very core of being. He scratched at his armpit. The thought made him kinda itchy, to be honest. What on earth was he even thinking? Was this the first sign he’d truly and finally cracked? Or perhaps it was just the memory of Ford’s fairytales eating away at his mind, siphoning his imagination, making him see and feel things that couldn’t truly exist. “Stanley Pines!” the call tugged at him. “Okay, okay, I’m listening!” he hissed under his breath. “What d’ya want?” Stan knew what it wanted. Or at least, he knew what he wanted, deep down. He could practically see its location, down to the very space on the shelf Dad had relocated it to last night. He felt driven to... to hold it. He breathed in deeply. “What’s gotten into you, Stan?” he muttered to himself, wrestling his way out of his soft cottony bindings.  Finally free, he swung his feet to the floor and stood up. The bed posts creaked at his movement. He froze, holding his breath. His heart thrummed a warrior’s beat in his chest. Seconds of his life stretched into centuries. His brother didn’t wake, however- instead merely letting out a sleepy sigh and rolling over. Relief filled his chest. Taking the edges of the floorboards to avoid the particularly squeaky sections, Stan crept through the apartment, swiping the key to the pawn shop off the kitchen counter. This was perhaps the stupidest thing he’d ever done. If Dad found out he’d been in the shop at three in the morning he’d whoop at his ass, but- he had to know. He couldn’t bear the thought of lying still another moment without understanding what this amulet was, and why it called to him so fervently. With a flick of his wrist, he unlocked the door to the shop. He wrapped his palm around the knob, twisted it. The rusty hinge gave a sour note, Stan cringing as he pushed the door ajar. His line of sight immediately locked on the amulet located across the room, glowing blue with a vibrant intensity. “Stanley Pines,” the voice said once more, this time almost in greeting. “Okay, geeze, I’m here,” he huffed, pacing across the pawn shop to the far shelf where the disk perched on its stand. Standing on his tiptoes, he wrapped his fingers around the amulet and pulled it off the shelf. Its glow pulsed as he came into contact. He gently rubbed his finger against the metal, peering at the strange object. What was the point of all this? What did it want? “You’re crazy,” he whispered to himself, clutching the thing in clammy fingers. “You’ve officially lost it, congrats. ____ The teen took the strange amulet to the beach so he could puzzle over it in privacy, without worrying about his dad waking up. He lay relaxed on the deck of Ford and his’ boat, the one they’d been refurbishing over the last five or so years with their spare pocket cash. Dawn was fast approaching. The sun lapped at the edge of the horizon, beginning to overpower and diminish the pinpricked light of the stars. A gentle ocean breeze dusted his cheeks. “What are you?” he muttered, turning the amulet in his hands. Suddenly, the strange runic writing around the rim flickered, changing to what he recognized as Chinese characters. His eyes widened. It changed again to a few other written scripts, before eventually settling in English. As dumb as it sounded, magic or aliens were the only rational explanations he could think of to explain the amulet’s behavior. Well then, maybe some of Ford’s kooky theories were closer to the truth than he originally gave him credit for. He peered closely at the readable script around the edge of the casing. “For the glory of Merlin,” he read to himself quietly, brow furrowing, “daylight is mine to command.” All was still for a moment. The winds ceased. The first direct rays of sun broke out over the horizon, framing Stan’s features in tones of red and gold. Then, some glowing spherical body shot out of the disk, startling him to attention. He shot to his feet, holding the amulet up to the sun so he could see what on earth was going on. His hand nearly shook, current mood locked somewhere on the spectrum between slack faced shock and curiosity fueled exhilaration. After all, what was one supposed to feel when some glowing blue speck- yes, that’s what he’d refer to it as from now on- decided to float through his chest, making its home within him? He gasped at the intrusion, splaying his hand over his heart where they entered. Another slurry of glowing specks released themselves from the amulet, and suddenly Stan found his toes leaving the deck. Whatever exclamation he felt compelled to make as this strange magic pulled him skyward was lost in the confusion of what happened next. Silver metal materialized in the air around his limbs, fashioning itself into armor. He hung there a moment longer in the wake of iridescent blue, sections of armor weaving into solid plates and gauntlets around him. The amulet floated out of his hand and fastened into place over his heart. Then just as quickly as he was lifted, his rebellion against gravity ended and Stan fell back to deck. He stumbled backwards, trying not to tip over from the imbalance of the bulky armor. Just as he was about to question the ungainly size of this armor’s chest-plate, (not to mention the existence of this armor in the first place), the amulet’s crystal pulsed brightly, and the armor shrank to fit his body. “Holy shit,” he exclaimed, holding his arms out to admire the intricate decorative grooves carved into the arm brace and wrist guard. He flexed his fingers, clinking the metal fingertips together. This was... this was wild. Unbelievable, really. Man, Ford was going to flip when he showed him what he found! His palm glowed a dazzling white, and from this point grew- as if fashioned from the very morning light he was illuminated by- the hilt and blade of a long, mighty sword. His jaw dropped. This was literally the coolest thing that’s ever happened to him, better than winning the boxing class final match, or even when he and Ford found the bones of their ship as kids. It was the likes of which a younger him might have daydreamed about. His lips stretched into a grin. Paired with an experimental lunge in his armor, he tried to swing his new weapon. Unfortunately however, the sword was far, far, too heavy. Stanley grimaced, wrapping his other hand around the hilt to try and stabilize it. There always had to be a catch to these wish fulfillment sort of things, didn’t there? Or maybe the last guy to use this magic-y object was just a pretty bulky, strong guy. “Come on, shrink like the rest of it,” he begged quietly, scraping the point against the wood. Either his words were well timed, or the whole warrior’s ensemble listened to his very desire, because the sword did just that. He held it up to the air, finding his grinning reflection in the polished surface. Confidently, he gave the blade a wide test swing... ...and promptly lodged it into the mast. “Whoops,” he said sheepishly. ____ In the far distance, a tall, six-eyed figure watched intently from the mouth of a cave. He witnessed everything, from the moment the boy took the amulet from the shop, to when he read the inscription and successfully activated it for the first time. There was no doubt about it- the amulet didn’t make mistakes. It belonged to the boy now. He nervously clasped both sets of hands together, determining what actions he might take next. “By Deya’s grace,” the troll exclaimed, peering towards the wide world beyond the shadows. “The next trollhunter... is a human!”
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