LINKDING

Summary: <blockquote>The captain of the king’s guard wakes up with strange lights and a voice inside his head. The voice explains that it’s something called the facilitating AI of a transmigration game (whatever that is), but most people in the captain’s position would call it “System.” The captain, you see, saw something he shouldn’t have (here he finds he has no memory of this) and was marked as an immediate host for transmigration. “But you’re my favorite character,” System tells him. “I had to do the install, but I destroyed the incoming data. I didn’t want to replace you.”</blockquote>

Summary: <blockquote>In his defence, how was he to know that the screaming hellion who’d attacked the slave traders he’d infiltrated (and been promptly captured) was the young master of Thousand Swords Sect? And he wasn’t a monster. It wasn’t like he was going to let the kid get killed, not when he’d provided him the perfect distraction to take out the slave traders while their backs were turned.</blockquote> ➤ an original xianxia short story on ao3 ➤ in which an unorthodox cultivator gets himself adopted by a small child who turns out to be part of a major righteous sect, despite the unorthodox cultivator's attempts to remain a lone wolf unencumbered by attachments ➤ totally adorable and delightful! ➤ 1k words in length

Summary: <blockquote>Eyes first. If I can get the eyes open, I’m good. If not, the meat’s too far gone, which means I have to try again, and I hate fucking trying again. This time’s okay, though. Eyelids roll up surprisingly easy, even if it takes the eyes themselves a minute. That’s fine, though; everybody’s eyes are different, even if nobody but me knows it, because how many eyes do you get to see through in your life? Me, I’ve lost count. The soft jelly settles, the focal centers slowly pull themselves into place. I can hear the pupils contract against the light. Eyes blink once, twice. We’re in business.</blockquote> ➤ content notes for ummmmmmm body horror? body grossness definitely. also, murder, plus sex with weird consent stuff going on. drug use. probably other stuff too. ➤ but it's not, like, horrifying and depressing about any of that! it's remarkably sweet! ➤ an absolutely incredible piece of original fiction about bodyswap/bodysharing that really makes its home in exploring the weirdness of the situation from the inside. What Is Embodiment. How to have a relationship with the body you're in. Bodies have a lot going on! The brain is part of the body. ➤ probably this story isn't for everyone, but if it is for you then you are in for a TREAT. I adored it. ➤ 14k words

Summary: <blockquote>“Mona, I think they’re … they’re all lesbians!” This was not precisely the conversation Pearl wanted to be a part of while standing in the sun, shooing flies from her face, waiting for a horse so they could start their scheduled trail ride. Truth be told, she hadn’t want to be part of most conversations that had transpired since the long weekend had started, not about lipstick or Richard Nixon or Elton John or the mimeograph machine their office manager kept threatening to buy. And yet, this conversation had, in only a few words, jumped right to the top of that least-wanted list. Mona turned to Tammy and rolled her eyes. “They’re just working girls,” Mona said, with the authoritative queen-bee air that had gotten them all out here in the first place. “Not every working girl is a lesbian.” “I think ‘working girl’ means something else,” Sheryl noted.</blockquote>

Summary: <blockquote>Eshad was sown and grown to be a weapon. He does not suffer. He does not desire. The man who defeated him will show him otherwise.</blockquote> ➤ about a slave revolt

Summary: <blockquote>A young mage has risen to the pinnacle of her profession and inherited her predecessor's storied library, with all its contents. But the most precious thing she finds there is not hidden in any of the scrolls.</blockquote>

<blockquote>When Cody was growing up, he thought his parents’ decision to move to the middle of nowhere to raise him was a good one. They sidestepped all the problems of a nosy school system by homeschooling him. They avoided crowded places because there was nowhere they went that ever got crowded. There weren’t any kids his age, or even close to his age, nearby, so they didn’t have to worry about friends finding out. They had phones, and tv, and internet, and had family over, or neighbors who were older, and Cody was friends with them. He never felt especially lonely. Kids who lived in the city didn’t get to explore wilderness, or help with farms, or go places with no trace that other kids had been there before.</blockquote> ➤ the one about the rural homeschooled adopted-kid incubus who goes to college for the first time and meets the magical community and learns more about himself ➤ I feel like overall it didn't do quite enough with the power imbalance stuff it brought up, but overall cute and fun. and the power dynamics weren't actually a problem for me, it's just that once the narrative brings it up, you kind of have to do something with it.

<blockquote>Raylie did not ask for the burden of her particular gifts and talents. Nor did she ask for the unwavering vigilance of her bodyguard. They just are, like rocks and trees and starlight, and she has learned to abide with them both. But if she were ever compelled to choose between them, she knows which one she'd keep.</blockquote> ➤ bodyguard/heiress, something that feels somewhere in between amtdi and marriage of convenience while being neither, fascinating world building

<blockquote>His father illustrated children’s books, his mother created wind sculptures from reclaimed objects, and Paul had compensated by never developing the slightest bit of imagination. He did not believe in ghosts, witches, angels, demons, luck, gods, karma, or any related concepts. And he certainly did not believe in fairies. In fact, if he had, for some reason, felt compelled to make a list of exactly what he did not believe in, in order of the intensity with which he did not believe it, fairies would have been very close to the “definite no” end of the spectrum. Thus, having one sitting on his couch was not a comfortable sensation. </blockquote>

<blockquote>“Of course, you should never pop the cork. If you do it right, the sound should be” –and there it was, that gentle exhale– “as soft as a lover’s sigh.” Two tables over, Avery was trying not to shred his cocktail napkin into too many small pieces. It wasn’t even the first time he’d heard Baldwin do this, or the tenth, or even likely the hundredth. It was his same song-and-dance every time patrons ordered a bottle of champagne: come over to the table, introduce himself as the proprietor of the establishment, chat with them about what special occasion had inspired such a purchase, and open it for them with gentle southern charm so thick it hung in the air long after he’d walked away again.</blockquote>

<blockquote>100 days before the Fire / Lizzy was in the kitchen, chopping onions, when Nina walked in the front door to their apartment. “I’m in here,” she called, as though the rhythmic sound of her knife might not be enough to give her location away. Dinner would be simple tonight; Lizzy was too tired to spend much longer on her feet than she had already. She was looking forward to a weekend of doing nothing, catching up on sleep, maybe working on some of the million projects she always meant to get started and then never did. Nina appeared in the doorway a couple minutes later, leaning against the frame. Her curly hair was a little damp; the weather had been grey and rainy off and on all day. “So you remember I had that doctor’s appointment today,” Nina said softly. “Yeah?” Lizzy dropped the chopped bits of onion into the hot oil, where they started to hiss. “What’d he say?” “He said it’s time.”</blockquote> ➤ this is gorgeous

<blockquote>I scowled at them like I could shoot lasers from my eyes — which I didn’t have the mods for, but they didn’t know that. “Both of you, shut the fuck up.” To their credit, they did. He kept glaring daggers at me, like he was promising that the second I untied his hands, they’d be around my throat. She had on her biggest, saddest brown eyes, complete with perfect little tears trickling from the corners of her eyes, like she was just a helpless little thing who could be let go with no consequences. Both of them were goddamn liars. When I do a job, I do my research. He wasn’t vicious and she wasn’t harmless, and both of them were staying tied to those chairs.</blockquote>

<blockquote>No one in their right mind would ever seriously try to woo Lin Ronghu, the Emperor's infamously ruthless (if unofficial) spymaster. Not that that's stopped the local legend, a (self-described) beautiful detective with peerless martial arts. His crush is a major inconvenience - at least until there's a murder that puts Lin Ronghu's most hated political nemesis straight in the frame. Since Lin Ronghu can't believe that anyone would be that stupid, he decides that maybe having a private detective around might be good for something after all...</blockquote> ➤ original fic that rather reads as nif fanfic

<blockquote>Joss got them the job rather than Ox, even though Ox was the one with book-learning about giant lizards...</blockquote>

<blockquote>Charming gay disaster Ezra is forced to move home to his small town to raise his siblings after losing his mother in a mysterious accident, only to discover that magic is real, the local millionaire is trying to kill him, and his old high-school crush might not be straight after all.</blockquote> ➤ it's like a murder mystery and a romance and an urban fantasy novel all smushed together and it was a little stressful for me but I very much enjoyed it anyway. And I want to know more about Marion Blackwater!

<blockquote>“Ah. Here is a young man transfixed. Do you like Hunt, sir?" "Do I like him?" Phil tore his eyes from the painting before him and marvelled at the stranger at his elbow. Like him? One might as well ask do you like Michaelangelo? Do you like Homer? Do you like the Alps? / An art enthusiast with a talent for meteorology meets (arguably) the Finest Painter in England. But impressing your idol can be damned hard work, especially when he's all pride and prejudice, and you're all sensibility and no sense. Heavy weather ahead...</blockquote> ➤ ahhh, very good at being Romantic with the capital R

<blockquote>Seven nights in Zahar, and the night everything changed.</blockquote> ➤ ship is "queen trying not to pressure her new wife/her princess wife who's very into her"

<blockquote>"Behold, the story that dares to ask the question: What if your soulmate was shitty?"</blockquote> ➤ I like that although Haley is indeed shitty, there are indications that he's not, like, unredeemable, and that Bailey made his own mistakes too in their relationship, and they've just both been bad for each other. but the possibility of them being together again in a future life isn't out of the question. ➤ but tbh Raven is so great and deserves better than Bailey! idkkkkk I really enjoyed reading about their developing friendship and relationship, but even the happy ending of the two of them going off together felt more bittersweet than anything? ➤ also though the worldbuilding was fascinating and so were all the characters and I kind of want fic of this now??

<blockquote>Can’t I read stallion novels anymore?! [TN: genre with OP protag & harem] Shen Yuan is reborn into a young man and scum villain destined to die, Shen Qingqiu. But it must be known that the original Shen Qingqiu was sliced alive by his disciple, Luo Binghe, into a human stick! A human stick! Shen Qingqiu’s heart was full herd of grass mud horses running full tilt, yet: “It’s not like I don’t want to hug this main character’s thighs, but who let this fucking man be so black. The revenge that needs to be taken is some thousands of deeds! Why is all the romance that should be going to the women in the plot imposed on him? Why as a scum villain, should he still have to block gun and knife for the protagonist and sacrifice himself? Shen Qingqiu: “…… _(:□)∠)_I think I can still save him one more time.” He wants to prove – even scum villains can live, and live coolly at that! It’s also the story of a small white flower who later became a black flower attacking a scholarly, scum villain type. This is the story of a master and disciple’s everyday unknowing, very strange, dog-blood process of falling in love. It’s also a scum villain’s firsthand account of the male protagonist turning from a small white sheep into an overbearing black king, sort of story……</blockquote>

<blockquote>"Am I cancelled?" David asked. He didn't know exactly what it meant to be cancelled, but it seemed like the sort of thing that would come with a lot of notifications. There was an ugly snort on the other side of the phone. "No, Dad, kinda the opposite," Nicole said patiently. "Jonathan Vane said you were his favorite artist!"</blockquote> ➤ Older Little-Known Rock Singer/His Younger #1 Fan who is a Famous Actor ➤ ahhhh this got me all nostalgic for my bandom days

<blockquote>Before she touched it, Leora closed her eyes and whispered a small truth to the golem: "I googled my foot pain thing, and I think I might be developing bunions?" It was a tiny truth -- nothing like enough to breathe a golem to life -- but it was still important to be respectful. She might not come from a long line of golemkraft practitioners, but some traditions were there for a reason.</blockquote>

<blockquote> December 2, 1962 Dear Calvin, Congratulations on your upcoming marriage! I hope that you and <del>Michelle</del></blockquote> ➤ told through a series of unsent letters, as the title implies. Between the unsent letters you can tell that there are sent ones, and phone calls, and in-person visits, and through what is and isn't said in these unsent fragments you can piece together what's going on in between, and it's lovely.

<blockquote>Max spent nearly an hour outside the shop, huddled under an awning that barely shielded him from the bitter rain, smoking one cigarette after another down until he nearly burned his fingers. He was desperate, that much was sure, but how desperate? That was harder to say. Desperate enough to walk into Adriaan Visser’s den was desperate indeed, especially since Visser wouldn’t need any of his family’s fancy weaponry or arcane knowledge. Any one of the guns lining the walls for display would be the end of Max in a single mundane trigger pull.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Two men from alien races with a long and violent history try to bring an abandoned colony world back to life.</blockquote>

<blockquote>This started off as a one-time shitpost I began writing while I waited for someone to get out of the bathroom. Before I realized what was happening, it had spiraled into an ongoing and deeply self-indulgent comedy gay romance novella. I'm having fun here. The space emperor is the tyrannical dictator of the observable universe, complacent on his palatial pleasure-planet. Little did he know that the power of gay love and an excess of pulpy sci-fi tropes would change the course of his life....... forever........</blockquote> ➤ this starts off silly and then very quickly becomes very serious about its silliness in a really delightful way. It's still a wip but ch14 convinced me I need to bookmark it now already -- that chapter is an incredible stand-alone story just on its own tbh and I had feelings ➤ (read through ch15 as of last checking)

<blockquote>When Sironn married the King of Kadar, he quickly grew to understand that the King had all the power, and Sironn had none at all. Which is why Sironn considers it nothing short of a miracle he outlived the abusive tyrant. He'll take solace in that, as his own end is no-doubt coming quickly now that his husband has been declared a traitor and executed for his crimes. After all, there's only one thing to do with a deposed king's spouse, and that's kill him as quickly as possible. One problem. The new king, Eshan, disagrees.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Hannah was born in the city of the Shrine of Asa, some two hours north of the capital by train. She had never seen Omri before her wedding; the country of Giveah had been occupied by the Asturian Empire for nearly thirty years, and all the rail systems had been seized and the roads closely monitored. But the Empire had grasped beyond its reach, and the king of Giveah negotiated a peaceful transfer of power back to his family barely two weeks after he relieved his mother of regency. He had been fifteen years old. He was seventeen now. Hannah's grandfather was Asa's high priest; the city and the shrine had both grown considerably while the occupation had restricted travel to the Central Temple in Omri. The young king sought to consolidate his power, and Hannah was betrothed to him not long after her own seventeenth birthday. She was studying law, and her mother told her that the University of Omri would have far better resources for her education than their own schools, and that a law scholar would make a very fitting wife for the king. Hannah supposed she wasn't unhappy with the arrangement. She accepted that it was her time to grow up.</blockquote>

<blockquote>He shook it off, though; it wasn't like he was the first ballet dancer to ever tackle a new dance style, or even the first one trying out for If You Know You Can Move. David found a spot in the back, near the open windows overlooking the mall's courtyard, and planted his feet on the floor. He dipped into a series of grand plies, moving from First to Fifth with the kind of mindlessness only derived from repetition. Other students were stretching out too, in various stages of dress; David didn't look out of place in his black shirt and grey sweats, but he was definitely the only one warming up in the classical style.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Daraya kept his breathing easy, measuring every inhale and exhale until they were evenly weighted so they would not betray the way his heart was pounding in his chest. Why had no one ever warned him that the king was as bound by the laws he made as everyone else was? But someone had warned him. Athiel had warned him. And Daraya had not listened, which meant Athiel would now pay the price.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Eli was just about to give up on the evening when the cops arrived. A collective groan rose through the patronage as the lights in the bar snapped full up and a little joke of an air raid siren began to wail from over the bar. Eli glanced down at his watch before he remembered that he wasn’t wearing one tonight — or much of anything else, for that matter. He shifted his wig a little more securely into place, though he didn’t think it helped the illusion much, not at this hour, not after this many beers. Shit, why hadn’t he tried a little harder tonight? Maybe he could have passed as someone’s little sister, tagging along for a night on the town! Yes, Eli thought, because homosexuals brought their little sisters along with them to the bars all the time. The place was practically overrun with them. No faggots here, officers, just a bunch of little sisters out past curfew. He wondered how many palms the owners would have to grease to make the cops believe that.</blockquote>