#prose fic recs

[petricorah]

scenes i loved from Real Enough to Get Me Through by @marriedzukka <333 [ids in alt]

[thecrickwitch]

Calling all BKDK fanfic curators:

As a relatively fast reader who just joined the MHA fandom a couple of months ago, I’ve read through most of The Big Ones. Those one-shots with hundreds of kudos, those long, complete multi-chaps with thousands of bookmarks on AO3. I think at this point I’ve read most of what many people would consider the BKDK “classics.”

What I want now, and what I’m struggling to find because (bless) this fandom is so big, are those hidden gem fics with GORGEOUS writing. One-shots or 300k+ words, I don’t care. I just want prose that makes me weak. I want sentences that give me that gut-punch “holy shit there has never been a more perfect or beautiful sentence” feeling.

Folks who have been in the fandom for a while and read a lot of BKDK fanfic:

1. Hi, can we please be friends, because I don’t know anyone

And

2. Can you please send me your BKDK fics with beautiful writing recs? Pls? 🥺

[beansprean]

"Nandor lives a very ordinary life that is just fine. Every day he goes to the coffee shop where he works, and comes home to his one bedroom apartment. But that's all he needs. That's how things have always been.

...and then this weird guy who has some sort of THING about Nandor starts showing up at the coffee shop every day, and Nandor begins to learn that maybe that isn't all he needs.

And maybe this isn't how things have always been."

@vampireshmampire and I collaborated on a prose comic!! It's half words (courtesy of her) and art (courtesy of me). It's been a year in the making and we hope you like it!

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: dead nightingales still sing

A year after leaving earth behind, Aziraphale returns with another apocalypse close behind and finds Crowley in pieces. Together, with six millennia of ghosts between them, they find a way to save the world and each other. They come out the other side alive and marked with soot and dying starlight, and he blinks through the smoke-burn in his eyes until the world comes into focus and the static prickling on his skin recedes. It might not have worked out in a different timeline, one in which they never separated in the first place, yet in this one, the one defined by heartbreak and loss, they saved the world.

Length: 6,435 words

AO3 Rating: Teen and Up

Best for: Safe in Public, Best at Home, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by actualchangeling

*Minor Spoilers* Not even going to sugar coat it, this made me cry. Actual tears down my cheeks cry. I tear up at fics all the time, but there's maybe only been 5 total so far that I've cried to and this is one. I actually couldn't even focus on the next story I tried to read and had to take a break after this. I don't think I'm over hyping this fic, at least I hope I'm not. It just really is that good.

In this story the second Apocalypse has just been averted, things have been left unsaid, and an exhausted Crowley breaks down. I can't give a better review than you just let you read these two lines from this fic: "A simple phrase, one sentence, had been enough to kill all the Nightingales in London, and he had buried them alone with bare hands and broken nails, the accompanying silence his judge, jury, and executioner all at once," and, "There, on the bookshop’s floor, with an apocalypse painted onto their bodies, the nightingale’s song begins anew, weaved into their kiss and marking the first page of their new life." Like wtf!! This is gorgeous and devastating! You guys can't keep getting away with this!! Just read this one, please. It's going to hurt you, but read it anyway. And read it at home where you can let yourself feel all of this.

Read it here, fic by actualchangeling

[naranjapetrificada]

Hey! You there! Yes you, OFMD fic enjoyer!

Do you like tropes? Unusual AUs? Historical detail? Fictional quotes from historians as a framing device? The prospect of an accidentally revolutionary Stede Bonnet and Horse Girl/reluctant war hero Edward Teach? You might enjoy the longfic I'm working on, which I posted the first chapter of several days ago!

It's set in a world inspired by our ancient world, where Stede is a blue-blooded patrician from a Not-Roman Republic about to enter an arranged marriage with famed nomadic steppe warrior Ed, to end a war that's been going on between their people for over a century.

Stede is a wannabe polymath with "an ex-wife, two messed up kids, probably," and canon-typical daddy issues; Ed is a secret softie carrying the compounded burdens of his own reputation as a warrior and those of his father and grandmother, also with canon-typical daddy issues. Not to mention that *slaps roof* this fic can hold so many reflections on masculinity, clashing cultures, imperialism, trauma recovery, historiography, and what it means to leave a legacy.

I know WIPs are scary, but I love this world more than any other fictional world I've ever created (and speaking as an experienced tabletop DM that's saying something). If any of the above appealed to you at all, this fic is probably worth the risk.

[chronicowboy]

wip wednesday

thank you @alyxmastershipper for the tag!! muah muah muah <3

so after like 115k words in the past month or so i decided to give myself a break and do some little fics then i started working on three at once :DDD (not to mention au planning good god) so you can have a couple of paras from each ig

concussion buck:

"How'd I do doc?"

"D minus," Eddie replies, setting the penlight back down and lowering himself back down onto the mattress. "And only because you're a bit more lucid than when you were telling me I smelt nice and I looked pretty."

"You do smell nice," Buck mutters as he burrows back into Eddie's chest. Eddie can only hope Buck still isn't lucid enough to hear the pounding of his heart. "And you're still pretty when I'm lucid."

another amnesia fic:

"I fell?" Buck raises an unimpressed eyebrow, only managing not to roll his eyes at Eddie's amused smile because he knows it will hurt.

"Yeah, badass." Eddie grins, shit-eating. "You fell. Flailing arms and all. You've got a career in physical comedy waiting for you."

"Did you laugh at me?" Buck asks, already knows the answer.

"When I knew you were okay," Eddie says softly.

spur of the moment confession:

"We can never see each other again," Buck breathes, eyes wide with horror.

"Buck," Eddie says, too indulgent to fool anyone—even himself.

uhhh i'll tag my usuals but no pressure ofc <33 @shitouttabuck @jamietarts @butchdiaz @danielsousa @binickmiller @try-set-me-on-fire

[cherryjuicegf]

There was always this specific stillness when he held her in his arms.

It is there now, too, as his arms crawl around her body, trembling, clinging. Despite all his pretty and ugly words, he has no language to describe it. A warmth, perhaps, of the kind that an all-consuming fire leaves behind in a scorching battlefield, and then nests scared in its middle. And it's still, lifeless, quiet, a graveyard.

This kind of stillness, then. Such that, the moment he feels her body against his, all the fire and the doom of the world ceases, all the shouting and the blood blurs and all that remains is her, and the quivering fire, and the ashes that smell like lilac and gooseberries.

And he, who only ever knew to run from the fire, welcomes her with open arms.

He holds her tight, gripping. Almost regrets it. He doesn't want to bruise her, but then, her porcelain skin and the chaos in her veins prevents him from that. It's a relief to remember. He cannot control the might with which his fingers dig into her body.

Silently, he apologizes.

Back then, in the few nights they had spent together, she would smile once she felt the desperate force of his touch. The smile bordered on a content smirk as she read in his eyes what she wanted to know, as the helplessness of his desire settled between her brows and eased the fine line that would have been carved there during all these years of uncertainty and craving, if it wasn't for unblemished magic. And oh, how he loved to see the way her lips quirked. Because he knew he would do anything to see it again.

A fortunate thing, for he was not known for his ability to quench his ever-present, gaping, devouring need.

For a moment now, it seems to him that she smiles again amidst the agony and the loss and the drying tears. Shaking, he traces the corner of her lips with his thumb, and the smile disappears, and it's like it was never there.

But that was always the case. And maybe he doesn't tell her, he never did. He never found the words, and what words could he ever find for loss, what words could he ever find for love?

It's only in the way he grips her tight and begs the world to stop for a moment, begs for her to stay right there, close, still, just for a moment, before she slips through his fingers once more like a dancing flame and disappears, as if she was never supposed to be there in the first place.

As if every time he holds her, he loses her all over again, little by little. And with her goes a piece of his heart.

He knew. He can't deny knowing. What kind of storyteller doesn't know the way their story ends?

He nuzzles in her hair, buries his face. They are soft, despite the ashes, and it's just like the way he always does while lying beside her, while pulling her close. He almost can't help it, the affirmation of her presence being a place he can bury himself in.

A grave that keeps walking away.

He knew, of course he did. If not from the start, then from the first time he felt her arms around him, clawing and grateful. To this day, he curses himself for not hugging her back if it meant he could steal just one more moment of stillness.

Well then, he thinks, at least now they are even.

A hug, unrequited, as his heart begs to feel hers against it, but she only hangs limp and lifeless in his arms.

The story, he knew, ends in grief. It is always like that with him, for some reason. Always the knowledge that something will end.

And now that it's over, he can't help but cling, grasp, hold on, for as long as he is allowed to, because suddenly he can't imagine any use for his arms if they are not able to hug her again, no use for his fingers if they can't tangle in her hair, play her praises, no use for his voice if he can't utter her name.

And thus, he is done.

He can only hold her now, just like he always did, except for once, and carry her down and let her go with a hope of seeing her again, and let his wretched hope bring him to his knees.

And he will still hold on, for it is all that remains.

Slowly, he leans and places a kiss on her forehead. Remembers how she smiled, how she ran into his arms, that one time they hadn't yet named the last.

Her body is still warm, forever warm, for he was no time to feel her getting colder. He can't even fathom it. The cold only seeps in as he lays her down the wooden boat, and nails his heart like a shard of ice, like a winter's wind, and the only comfort is that he will remember the coldness of her absence, for that, at least, was familiar. And this is it. This is how it always has been.

She slips through his fingers once again, and this time the stillness remains forever.

[eupheme]

hurt by @moonlight-prose

the queen of writing and amazing AUs and fics! Hurt is so gorgeous (so excited to catch up & hear the next part is coming soon!), as well as everything you touch. your friendship means so much to me, I am always so excited to see you on my dash & the things you share are always up my alley. so happy to find you on here! 💖

[moondal514]

One thing they don’t tell you about fandom sizes is sometimes being in a big fandom actually makes it harder to find fics to read

[saintvainglorious]

Fics I Enjoyed September-October

10 fics total. Includes fics from the following fandoms: Black Sails, Harry Potter

Away Childish Things by lettered/@letteredlettered Harry Potter | Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy | 154k | Teen & Up

Harry gets de-aged. Malfoy has to help him.

Elective Affinities by Caecelia Harry Potter | Harry Potter/Severus Snape | 86k (WIP) | Mature

It's 1976, and a strange new transfer student is about to turn Severus Snape's life on its head . . .

What We Pretend We Cannot See by gyzym/@gyzym Harry Potter | Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy | 131k | Mature

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

where there's a will by aloneintherain/@captainkirkk Harry Potter | Gen | 8k | Teen & Up

Harry writes the first draft of his will when he’s fourteen.

Princes of the New World by x_etoile_x/@etoilesombre Black Sails | James Flint/John Silver | 38k | Explicit

“This is your plan?” Flint sneers, looking at Silver like he’d expected no better. “Hiding below decks like a rat?” “Now Captain, that’s unkind,” Silver pouts, trying to hide his hurt behind teasing reproach. All day he has tried to match Flint, to fight alongside him though he is ill-suited to it, and it has earned him nothing but disdain. Now it’s time to do things his way for a while. “Like a stowaway, at least.” After they have taken the warship and been cast out of the crew, Flint and Silver are forced to contend with each other and the nature of their relationship.

Far From the Tree by aideomai Harry Potter | Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy | 112k | Explicit

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

Eager for the Sky by oknowkiss/@oknowkiss Harry Potter | Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy | 35k | Mature

It was announced, just as the Triwizard Tournament had been, at the start of term feast. A year-long, international Quidditch varsity match — the inaugural Wizarding Academy Cup. In which Harry is Hogwarts' star Seeker, Draco is on the bench, and they both have a thing or two to learn about playing for the same team.

Like Lightning at Your Fingertips by potterwatch Harry Potter | Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy | 43k | Teen & Up

The problem with living with another insomniac is, eventually, they find out you’re one, too. When Harry and Draco return for their eighth year, they think they’ll see very little of each other. Then McGonagall assigns them to room together. And the castle starts breaking. And there’s that thing with Potter’s magic.

Three's Family by darkbluedark Harry Potter | James Potter/Lily Evans | 19k | Teen & Up

It’s May 1979 and the Order has just apprehended a pair of mysterious wizards who look remarkably like a Potter and a Malfoy. Naturally, James Potter and Sirius Black are called in to identify the strangely familiar strangers and determine their backgrounds and loyalties. (This would be a lot easier if their captives weren’t convinced everyone they talk to is dead. It would also be easier if they didn’t spend half their bloody time bickering.)

The Bolthole by aideomai and Tepre/@tepre Harry Potter | Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy | 54k | Explicit

Harry is a hoarder, Draco is grief-stricken, and both are capable human adults who can definitely spend a month in a cottage in the Cotswolds together without ever talking about the time they slept together in eighth year. Yeah, no, totally.

[athenasparrow]

What is the best metaphor you’ve saw in a fan fiction

Did you all notice that @kay-elle-cee had snake-related prose throughout her entire Slytherin Lily fic, i'll be fine, i'll be good? Because omg what a clever thing to do!

[bengalaas]

They moved to the next roses, small wild things that grew in bunches and smelled like vetiver. Granger asked if she might pick one. Draco did so for her; it seemed ungentlemanly not to. And he gave it to her, his arm wrapped around her from behind, and their fingertips touched, and that was as close as they could get – touching fingertips over a rose.

She looked over her shoulder at him to say thank you, and their eyes met, and hers were dark and curious and his were light and keen, and it was universes colliding. It was all of those contrapositions of Light and Dark and Muggle-born and Pure-blood and Order and Death Eater and terrible incompatibility after terrible incompatibility. The violent polarities that made them who they were.

They fell into each other a bit, in that moment of collision, a bit drunk, a bit soul-tangled.

She slid the rose into her hair and turned away.

They came to the end of the rose garden, where the hedges grew thickest and stupidities might be said most freely. Where terrible incompatibilities stopped meaning so much, because, here amongst green boughs and the rustling breeze, they were just a man and a woman, meandering through a garden, being idiots about roses.

Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in Love by isthisselfcare

[dollsuguru]

hi hi! you can ignore this but i was really curious about your writing process?? you just write so well and i’m curious to see how your work starts from an idea all the way to the finished product!!!

the way my jaw DROPPED rn like omfg are you talking to ME??? I’M SHOOK PLEASE YOU ARE WAY TOO KIND AND SO GENEROUS 😭 my writing sucks ASS but thank you SO much you’re so sweet <333 i can try & let you know my process but tbh baby i do NOT have one 😭 but i’ll try to think of something 😭 also i’ll try to be as thorough/concise as possible but i’m sorry if i tangent! ALSO this’ll be long bc i’m a yapper so forgive me <3

1) everyone is different but in my case i have a tendency to ALWAYS think of new ideas for writing (at least for geto!) find a character that you can consistently think of ideas for bc they’ll serve as practice! also i JUST started writing a month or two ago so i, myself, am STILL practicing with every fic & i am always willing to learn!

most importantly, i write based off my whim! whatever idea has me in its clutches is the idea i’m writing for, even if that means i’m leaving other fic ideas in the dust at the moment! i recommend creating a list of fic ideas and save it as a draft (can be a wip list or literally just a random list depending on how many ideas you have!) — for those i tend to jot down random dialogue, vibes i wanna express, plot points i really wanna show, the personality of geto or reader, & whatever randomly comes to mind pertaining to that fic! i write it all down!

2) it honestly changes between fic to fic but i recommend asking for requests in the beginning — even writing just ONE thing will give you practice/an idea! so here are some examples of what i’ve written so far:

- the first thing i wrote was a request for suguru being obsessed w satoru’s girlfriend. the way i started that fic was thinking of the feeling that suguru would ultimately feel which was “guilt, shame, & desire.” and then i… personified? each thing! at first i personified guilt as an arachnid crawling in suguru’s throat but it didn’t work as well for me… and then i thought, “how about a serpent?” and it flowed much better -> slithering down his throat, embedding his fangs into his flesh leaving it raw, mangled, & bloody -> roaming across his heart/ribcage. and for that, and this may sound silly but i SWEAR by it, look up SYNONYMS for words on google! “dances along his bones -> pirouetting across his bones” i think little nods like that can help you not sound too similar all the time or like you’re constantly repeating yourself! shame was expressed in alcohol (amber whiskey ties into his amber eyes as well) & desire was expressed within the flicker of a lighter reader gave him which he holds in his hands (he imagines the cold metal as reader’s hands, which he ends up holding in his warm ones at the end)

- second fic “black is the color of my true love’s hair” was my first time writing a fic and that was because i wanted to write something for v-day & i really love this song! music can be a great inspiration — same w song lyrics! but for that one i had a few ideas i KNEW i wanted to use (knuckle kisses, stargazing, depressive suguru who reader gives a bath to/has a heart to heart with, and reader making a scrapbook for suguru!) he may be ooc but also i’m not afraid of making suguru be soft and quirky, i think that makes him fun! have FUN w different facets of your favorite characters personalities! also personally, i hate when readers don’t have personality/are always too shy/can’t banter/are too serious so i try to make my readers have a personality that align w the fic!

now for the knuckle kisses i knew what i wanted to do and i think that part came pretty easy! just a bit of revising as i was writing so i could be more descriptive in certain areas, change my wording around so it’d be less clunky in others! stargazing idea was incredibly hard & so was the scrapbook… so here’s advice i have for you that SAVED my ass. now. if you just wrote random writing in your drafts, whether it was just stream of consciousness that has nothing to do with the fic or was just a random piece of dialogue you jotted down — DO NOT DELETE IT. two parts of my fics were from RANDOM writing i wrote that had NOTHING to do w a romance fic and with a BIT of tweaking it gave so many ideas/serviced my story perfectly!

ex: i had zero idea of how to start the stargazing part so i just wrote the part i knew i wanted, which would’ve been in the middle of the story! aka reader buying the star for suguru and him being Shook To The Core. i was wondering how the hell i think of the events leading up to that, and one day i randomly just wrote “you zig-zag around the counter like a bumbling fawn” bc i was brainstorming ideas for the fic but was like… this has no place in my story BUT i didn’t delete it i just kept the draft. THEN i was like… wait this can work… so i used it as my beginning to the stargazing section and it flowed wonderfully! same w the scrapbook section! i wrote a series of dialogue that i ACTUALLY intended to use in an angst where reader despises suguru in their relationship, but with a bit of tweaking and deleting parts of reader being apathetic and suguru being toxic, it ended up being a great series of showing suguru’s overthinking nature/his genuine love for reader!

also maybe i do this unintentionally but i usually have a focus into suguru’s thought processes more in my fics… maybe bc i’m just curious abt him more than anything LMAO so that can be useful i think! if you’re like wow i have no idea how to write for my reader, write for suguru!

- third story was a request (shoutout bestie rem 🤝🤭) who gave such a cool idea of twisted suguru watching reader grieve him for leaving. now it wasn’t an actual haunting bc reader & geto are both alive, but i still used words of that nature to express them haunting e/o’s thoughts (mourning, ghost, corporeal phantom, living rigor-mortis etc…) the first thing i wrote for this fic was “prostrate yourself” — a tie-in to cult leader geto & also his confusing feelings about/towards reader. i also wanted to show bleakness so i mentioned suguru likening himself to a plague & a calamity. also don’t be afraid to show the ugly parts of a character — suguru is a bit callous in this but he’s still human and has a push & pull w/in himself! this fic i really tried my hardest to do a “show not tell” for certain paragraphs (bc i personally have trouble with that/dialogue/imagery/descriptions/engaging writing) — so i would constantly go into my “writing tips” tag and try and heed the advice they give!

sorry i don’t think i was of much help bc honestly i do NOT have a process 😭 even when writing my current fic about curator!geto — i just outlined OOOOOH WAIT OKAY HOLD ON YUP MIDTHOUGHT AND NOW I’M JUST PROPERLY ANSWERING YOUR QUESTION 😭

BITCHXHXHBXBX I FORGOT. OUTLINE!!!!!!! THAT’S WHAT YOU WERE LOOKING FOR THIS WHOLE TIME AND I WAS JUST YAPPING AWAY FOR NO REASON I’M SOOOOOOOOOO SORRY OMFGGGGGGG OKAY SO 😭

curator!geto is the FIRST time i’m PROPERLY outlining a fic (so actually i didn’t do anything wrong pleek don’t beat my ass for yapping 😪) so basically since this is the first time i’m outlining i made sure to write the premise of the fic, characters & their jobs, their personalities, their place of work/interactions/relationships there and then also how they would meet! so i wrote how i wanted suguru & reader to meet, a few pieces of random dialogue, and then i also wrote about how they would later on be more romantic (in what way). i’m currently trying to think of a conflict and just now thought of an idea that i may or may not use but i wrote it down anyways! and this is the first fic where i’m properly paying attention to “show not tell” and trying to describe words/paragraphs with more imagery! (esp since it’s an artsy/visual fic!) tbh the “writing tips” tag on my blog will help you more than anything i can say 😭

also! i recommend looking up writing tips and also reading a bunch of fics that you like! my mutuals have some of the BEST fics i have EVER read and reading them is honestly a masterclass in itself of amazing writing/prose/how to flow a story wonderfully! i’m just a beginner so i have lots to learn still about fic-writing BUT just think of each fic as a stepping stone to getting better! write, post, but don’t overwhelm yourself/force yourself to finish a fic you have no ideas for. it’s okay if it takes time but also remember that it won’t ever be perfect so don’t let “perfectionism” stop you from posting your fics! someone will always read it — whether they rb, like, comment, or are a silent reader — someone will take the time out of their day to read your fic! and honestly don’t get caught up on numbers! i’m soooooo thankful that people read my fics & leave tags even if i think my writing sucks! it’s all in good fun at the end of the day! enjoy it however you can and i’m sure you yourself are an amazing writer! good luck bestie! <3

[tiodolma]

...Instead he is filled with a weariness she did not know he possessed and a sort of sorrow he has no right to feel. An executioner does not mourn his victim; it would surely drive him insane. So why should he dwell in the past as a constant reminder while she struggled viciously to remain in the present?

[rotzaprachim]

absurdly good fic i read this year (which is somehow both completely unrelated and yet of a similar vibe)

1) it doesn’t mean you can explain the ocean - 14k, rageprufrock. gen

this is some background season 1 gen sam and dean road tripping america fic that works as an incredibly well-realised and dense entry into the whole magical realist on-the-road americana genre. spn fic in general tends to cluster post the season 4 introduction of the angels and castiel and so this fic is fantastic as something that marks the deeply, unnervingly isolated tone that early season spn had and then later forgot about when it really was just Two Guys going town to town. it functions briliantly both as fanfiction for the CW’s supernatural and an incredibly sharply realised depiction of small-town, middle-of-nowhere america that manages to be eviscerating (as the show never was) and deeply empathetic (in a way that i think is oddly key to the cocktail of early season supernatural, when it was good.) read it! 

There are noises in the cosmic grapevine about three women in Savannah, about prophesy and oracle and older gods than even they know the words for, and Dean hears about it from a waitress at the counter of a diner off the side of a North Carolina freeway. It's muggy outside: like collards and carrot tops and green gumbo, stewed until it's mostly brown, like mudslides and the thick scum left on everything after a storm.

Sue, whose brother is a sergeant serving in Afghanistan still, wears a yellow ribbon on the breast pocket of her server's uniform and snaps her gum as she tops off Dean's coffee. She talks about how she misses her baby brother and how she's real proud of him for standin' up for his country and fighting for the sake of freedom in the US of A; she tells Dean her momma's the best damn quilter on this side of the Carolinas and that she'd be happy to take Dean around this sleepy, southeastern town if he's gonna be round these parts for a few more days.

Sam drinks sweet tea and listens to her chatter at his brother, stacks Land O'Lakes non-dairy creamers into a pyramid and listens to newspapers rustle, the metallic slick and slide of spatulas and things on the hot griddle, the shouting of the Mexican short order cook. The diner smells like the meatloaf blue plate special and frying sausage and bacon, smells like the steak and eggs Dean ordered with black coffee. Sam looks at the counter's ugly, specked blue linoleum and the pleather covers of the diner stools, split open, with the fluff inside spilling out.

"Now what's this about oracles," Dean says and he drags out all the syllables in 'oracle' until Sue laughs, eyes bright, and winks.

2) i’ve lived since then - scioscribe, 11k, jyn erso/cassian andor, explicit 

there’s rumours round these parts (based on interviews) that tony gilroy read fanfic before fleshing out andor and well. if he did. let’s just say this one would probably be on this list. like yes, yes i DO know this is a jyn/cassian arranged fanfiction from 2017 and it’s 11k words and a good portion of those words are straight up porn. but ALSO, this fic manages to capture beautifully, woundrously, fascinatingly well the tone of andor and many of its canonical preoccupations, and yet feel fully contiguous with the characterisations of rogue one- which is something that andor itself is still fiddling with the hems of i just live for this particular fic’s depictions of jyn and cassian, who remain sharp and spikey and brutal and yet have this place in a story that neither removes them of their sharp edges nor sands them down to booktok romance leads but still suffises them with an odd, off kilter humanity and warmth. the subtle slice-of-life lived-in worldbuilding is great too. i have a particular fondness for the star-warsy birth control moment, which is so deeply scientifically bizarre and ridiculous it rests in my mind that if sw characters ever were to fuck on screen, that would be exactly what the birth control would be like. 

Cassian adjusted his jacket, which had been tailored for another man. The Alliance’s funding ran to fighters, bribes, and base installations, not to salaries, and so when someone fell, their possessions went into an informal commissary, to be bought, begged, bartered for, or stolen at will or convenience. Never entirely without sentiment, though. They all had sewing skills rudimentary enough at least to stitch the necessary black X, the acknowledgement of whoever had come before them. Maybe it was bad luck, getting married in a dead man’s clothes.

3) i won’t be going gentle - cyanocorax, 1.2k words, gen modern day odyssey trucker au 

it’s hard to choose a single quote from this, because the entire thing is dense (while maintaining a sharpness and paucity that keeps it feeling pure midcentury this-feels- like-an-Intro-To-The-American-Short-Story material. in the best way possible. this fic comes in the long and great media tradition of The Odyssey but it’s [blank]- in this case, odyseus as a long-haul trucker across middle america. like a great odyssey au it asks real questions about the odyssey itself. i’ve been thinking lately about the odyseus frame story being used by both the more recent Greek and other diasporas- russian jewish (joseph brodsky), vietnamese (ocean vuong), - in order to explore more recent experiences of war and displacement, and what ithaka can mean to so many different people across time. this fic goes in a different direction, instead twisting the stories of odysseus’s decades of wandering into the story of a working man’s struggle with daily life and to earn a living. one of the most haunting aspects that comes of this interpretation is of the mundanities of life itself as what separates him and penelope, given they are more physically united than in the myth. anyway! just really, really good writing and storytelling 

All his journeys tend to start off just the same, as is their way: in the dawn-dark, a thermos of Pen’s best (or worst, depending on who you ask) coffee burning a ring into the cup-holder beside him, the windows rolled down just enough for the breeze to turn his nose tip red. The radio, on, but silent, until he hits the interstate and can see nothing in his rearview mirror save the bleak, unyielding line of the horizon.

There’s a photograph taped to his dashboard, now ten years old, of his wife standing next to the lip of Meteor Crater with their boy in her arms, all the round, living warmth of her distilled into a single fleck of color that the passing gas station, motel lights will illuminate, briefly, briefly.

[consistentsquash]

5 Viserys/Daemon Fic Recs

Viserys/Daemon! This is definitely the OTP the fandom slept on. Which is tragic. Because they are the best tragic star-crossed brothers ever with Targcestuous vibes. It's a relationship full of what-ifs and if-onlys. The love is deep but the baggage is also really deep.

Time for Recs!

Fandom slept on the pairing overall. But we are lucky because one author at least saw the potential and delivered the best Greek tragedy series out there about these two brothers. Lots of reasons to love eldritcher. Classy dirtybadhotwrong Greek ship picks is definitely one of them.

What are we getting?

Exquisite prose which is almost poetry. Exquisite tragedy. Raw, intense and going to make you bawl. The writing has so much precision. It doesn't blow up. It doesn't blow over. It just builds like music. You are going to cry. It's totally worth crying about. Because this is a love story.

"As the vine to elm, the virgin sought her burning youth, and each the other strengthened and fed."

"They were matched in equal wedlock. One did not contend with the other. One did not strive against the other. They aged in tended touch, from ripe to hoar, for they were united under fourteen holy flames under a sole-starred, moonless night," Daemon recited. He knew these words. He knew this ritual. Viserys and he had recited the holy words to each other as children, in play and in earnest.

"They sang something worthy of memory on that fortunate hour. The evening came, and the vestal bride gave the thirds of her to her juvenal. A welcome, cruel fire joined them in marriage, sullying the one and making the other," Viserys finished. "This was their hymen-song. This they sung at their feasting troth. No fallow embrace theirs, even unto god's hoar, even unto ossuarium."

A dream. A memory. A hope of once. Daemon watched his earnest brother and saw the death that ate him.

 (Soon the light on Olympus, aka the love story)

 Soon the burning youth

Length - 4200 words. Rating - M

Best intentions and worst results is the tagline for Viserys. Young!Viserys takes his brother to the brothel and learns something about his own desires. Really beautiful and introspective pining second half where Viserys is thinking about this in the context of the Daemon/Rhaenyra brothel adventure. Pining + power dynamics... this is just brilliant.

His head came sweet-swept to your shoulder once more. There was none to witness it, but it did not matter right then. His heart ran askew-songed, as he yearned and mourned. Your hands roved over him, painting him in blood and rot. He did not flinch and endure as Alicent did. He pressed closer in blind yield.

 Soon the wedding hymn

Length - 2300 words. Rating - M

Viserys tries to do the right thing for the wrong reasons and gets really stubborn about it. Which means pining, angst and power dynamics. For everybody. Mostly for himself. Because he is all about the pining and the power dynamics.

They said you had no dragon at your bidding.

There stood a dragon at your bidding.

 Soon the beloved

Length - 5300 words. Rating - M

Viserys gets his chance after Laena's death. Being Viserys, he doesn't get it right. Because that's Viserys. More pining, more angst and more power dynamics. But this time it's on both sides. Because Daemon grew up in those ten years and actually understands his own priorities better. It's incredible to see Viserys meeting his match. In every way possible. Of course he totally overreacts and gets it wrong.

Rec note - This is my personal favorite from the series. Its got everything.

"Did you think that I wouldn't come to you in your hour of need?"

A taunt. A truth. A vow.

 Soon the feasting troth

Length - 3600 words. Rating - M

A lot of times people think the umbilical cord fated connection between Daemon and Rhaenyra started with Rhaenyra herself. It definitely didn't. Daemon is looking for something he didn't get from his original umbilical cord fated connection with Viserys. Of course it works better with Rhaenyra because he got to influence her early instead of Viserys who influenced him. That makes their connection the stuff of Greek tragedy. It also explains his loyalty and obsession a lot more. Pining, angst...and more pining. This series is all about the pining.

You did not know what she spoke to him, but you saw how he flinched and reared as a wounded, lonely beast that would not use its claws against its own. How dared he flaunt this weakness of his before so many? How dared he bare himself before your daughter when he would not bare himself to you? You protected him. She would one day be the death of him. How dared he—

 Soon the sole-starred sky

Length - 1600 words. Rating - M

Viserys on his deathbed. We as readers get to decide if he imagines his brother and their entire conversation or if it's a real conversation. The fic is written like a lucid dream with a lot of baiting and switching which kind of keeps you on the fence about deciding if it actually happened or if he was just high on his meds. More pining. More angst. Because that's their love language and it's totally perfect for them.

He crowned you, when you were first named King. He crowned you once more, when you last sat the throne. Perhaps you were a worthy King only for two days of your reign. Perhaps you were worthy only on the first and the last days. The throne, you realise, did not cut you today. How could it have, with brother's faith in brother trothed?

 If you want more, definitely check out the other POV fics in this series. It is just beautiful and reads like poetry. The prose is poetry.