LINKDING

<blockquote>Miss Wilhelmina Laurence never leaves Nottinghamshire, and certainly not in the winter of 1805. When the Reliant captures an exhausted Amitie on her way out of a storm, Miss Laurence is grimly preparing for a country ball. Usually a merry occasion even for a confirmed spinster, this particular event is soured by the presence of Bertram Woolvey, who is likely to make Miss Laurence’s particular friend and neighbor an offer and therefore deprive her of her most beloved company.  When the queer porcelain egg hatches, several weeks later, and the officers are gathered around with the reluctant sacrifice stepping forward nervously, the black dragonet ignores them all. It takes seven men to hold the creature down long enough to harness it, even though it is a newborn. The dragonet does not stay silent for long, protesting at its treatment quite vehemently in both English and French–but it pays no attention to any man in particular, and seems in fact to resent them all. The officers are relieved as well as unsettled. They do not name it, but make for Madeira with all speed. </blockquote>

<blockquote>I’ll pretend I’m going blind if I have to: start fumbling my work, carving sloppy lines onto the dolls, squinting, tripping over nothing. Everything my mother did in her twenty-fifth year. Everything my aunt and uncle did. Now the three of them sit in the best positions by the fire; how honored they are, for giving their sight to feed us. How well-fed, while we labor carving more dolls for the pot. They’ll kill me for laziness if I don’t go blind in the next year.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Everyone thinks my brother is nice. He set up a rescue centre for birds, after the terraforming accident poisoned the lake. That's always the image of him, holding a bird covered in sludge. The birds are never the same after they're cleaned, but the gossips never talk about that. Cleaning birds is a safe way to make people notice you, and my brother likes safe. I jumped off a cliff once. He was all, "You'll die if you jump." I broke most of my bones, but I made it. It's worth trying for the feel of it. Not the bones part, but the rush of something new. It should have been something, falling and surviving. But the gossips only cared about how much it upset my brother.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Bucky becomes Natasha. Natasha becomes the Winter Soldier.</blockquote> ➤ I AM SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW. THIS IS SO GOOOOOOOOOD

<blockquote>OKNO OKNO can't tell at first which radio it's coming from. That's understandable; you've got twenty-six, all arranged on various shelves around your apartment. Twenty-five before you picked up the latest one, a little box from the thrift store, runs on two double-A batteries, not as useful in a catastrophe as the ones that you crank to life, but, well, you can't be cranking every minute of the day. And anyway, it's not a catastrophe. Yet.</blockquote> ➤ odd and I don't really understand everything but it's extremely compelling and well-written and it's totally worth reading.

<blockquote>A Halál/der Tod because what happens when death kisses death oooo (I'm so sorry)</blockquote> ➤ a three-sentence kiss fic that is longer than three sentences

<blockquote>The lesson here, Susie thinks, is that tricking Death is tricky business. How do you outwit the personification of oblivion? Chess, obviously, won’t be the answer. Or: Susie plays Calvinball with Death.</blockquote> ➤ SUSIE PLAYS CALVINBALL WITH DEATH. I was so there from the summary, and the fic does not disappoint.

<blockquote>One is a beginning; two, opposition; three, instability; four, death. But five is justice, six is unexpected, and seven makes things complete again. Seven days of Kalasin's life.</blockquote>

<blockquote>"Our tsar has three sons. Handsome lads, if one appreciates such things. None are married...yet." The old woman snorts. "That's why you're here, though, isn't it?" "I'm to return the arrow to its archer. I know nothing beyond that. Other than it's," Vasilissa's mouth twists, "fate." "So you find it cruel?" The hut closes around her, the air warm and heavy. It's thick with the sent of rosemary and sage from the bundles of herbs hanging from the beams above them. The bones of previous suppers (hares and chickens and maybe even men) rattle in a hauntingly soothing melody. "I'd rather find it kind. But at the moment, I miss my shop." She shakes her head, and some of the syrupy warmth tugging at her mind fades. "It's childish of me, I know." "And you're no child."</blockquote>

<blockquote>Google politely tells her there are no poisonous spiders in Manhattan. Judging by her symptoms -- fever, superstrength, newfound desire to shove herself into small dark spaces, and sudden reputation as a masked vigilante -- Gwen would beg to differ. [AU.]</blockquote> ➤recognizes and integrates into the story stuff about racism and sexism and so forth! also Gwen is awesome ➤also on ao3 at http://archiveofourown.org/works/1416808

<blockquote>Esca has always been able to see Death.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Hamlet in space, starring sensible and heroic Ophelia, genderswapped Claudius, clones Rosencrantz and Guilderstern and alien Fortinbras. (Alas, there are no sharks in space riding motorcycles, nor is there a time machine.)</blockquote> ➤ HOLY CRAP THIS IS AMAZING

<blockquote>What if Snow White was a cool character who knew what she wanted and how to get it?</blockquote>

<blockquote>Ragnar and Athelstan meet again, a decade since Athelstan was stolen from him.</blockquote>

<blockquote>To the city of York, in the year of our Lord 1780, there came a young man who had fallen upon hard times.</blockquote> ➤ or, how Childermass came to work for Norrell. ➤ An interesting story, and somewhat unsettling and stick-in-your-head in the way that any good fic about the magic of JS&MN ought to. ➤ It's -- oh, I'm describing it wrong. But this fic is extremely effective at feeling utterly like a part of the world of JS&MN.

<blockquote>The thing about being young is that it happens to most everyone.</blockquote>

<blockquote>We, the People: a thirty-year retrospective and an examination of the role of the Nation in world history, for Earth Atlantic, 7 December 2035, excerpt.</blockquote> ➤ this is one of those stories where I'm not quite sure I understand everything, but it's wonderful anyways

<blockquote>Orpheus doesn't think much about his life before he was a private detective. But when he's hired to search for a missing girl, he'll have to take on Hollywood royalty, hired killers, and maybe, finally, himself.</blockquote>

➤ The effects of Abraham's daughter's actions, down the ages.

<blockquote>Five Alternate Universe versions of Mulan: canon AU, historical AUs, modern AU, sci-fi AU, with each highlighting a different aspect of the Mulan story.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Now, I read The Prince in school, and remembered ideas including the stock “It is better to be feared than loved,” and “The ends justify the means,” but I also remember having no idea then why Machiavelli was a big name.  I’m pretty sure my teacher didn’t really know either.  In fact, most introductions to the works of Machiavelli that I’ve read didn’t even manage to make it clear.  After ten years as a specialist in the Renaissance, I think I can finally explain why. (the fundamental mistake most introductions to Machaivelli make is that they start by talking about Machiavelli. Context is everything.)</blockquote> ➤ THIS IS SO INTERESTING. First of an amaaaaaaaazing series of five posts about Machiavelli (links to the next at the bottom of each)

<blockquote>Rodney McKay /really/ hates small towns.</blockquote>