Deejaymil
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On the night he attained his Black Robes, when Arram Draper had planned to take the name Numair Salmalín and flee Carthak - and his increasingly unstable emperor and lover, Ozorne - forever, he instead chose to stay. Numair Salmalín became a lost figment of his past, someone he now knew he'd never become, not in this life. Devastated by years of acting as Carthak's battlemage, Arram obeys the twin leashes of love and duty to capture for his emperor the family of an enemy king: Queen Thayet of Tortall and her two eldest children, Roald and Kalasin.
Daine Sarrasri, who owes Tortall his mother's life, enters a pact with a God to save his home from Carthak's incursions, trading his freedom for the crown prince's life. He's willing to risk everything to save his people, pitting his wild magic against the terrifying Gift of one of the most powerful mages in the world. Never once does Daine suspect that his captor is just as caged as he is - and never once does he suspect that, before the end, he'll be willing to risk everything to save Arram too.
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Numair Salmalín, Black Robe mage of Tortall, is given two tasks: one by his king, to prevent the neighbouring country of Galla from falling and taking Tortall with it; the other by the Badger God, who tells Numair to find a young wild mage lost somewhere in Galla, the unstable Veralidaine Sarrasri, who Numair is told will be needed for what’s to come.
His journey will take Numair through the destruction of a country and beyond, from the ruin of Galla to captivity within the hold of the pirate ship Danse Brightly, and back to Tortall where he has to relearn how to live in peace with those spared by Ozorne’s claiming of Galla. But the plots that began long before Numair ever set foot in Galla, long before he or Daine or anyone they love were even born, are still in play.
In the end, the one task Numair and Daine have is this: them and their allies must end Ozorne’s march before it claims their children too, and in doing so they must remake the world from Divinity down. They, more than anyone, understand that a world lit only by the glory of Mithros will never be free of war.
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Misericordia by Deejaymil
Fandoms: Tortall - Tamora Pierce, PIERCE Tamora - Works, His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
05 May 2022
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The first time Alex saw Mercy was the day that Duke Roger of Conté drowned the mouse. She was a glimmer of gold at the corner of his eyes, perched upon his shoulder with her sharp fangs showing; she was also the lie that Roger told him, the one where he said that it was mercy to drown creatures too sorry to be saved. Even at seven, Alex knew exactly what Roger was saying when he said that, that Alex himself was a sorry thing, and he'd be sorrier yet if he didn't prove that he was worth saving.
Ten years under the heel of the duke leaves Alex wound up so tight in his own mediocrity that he's certain he won't survive the Chamber. He sees animals everywhere he looks, animals no one else can see but him. Then comes that day that Roger returns to the palace with a child he says is his, a child burning with so much magic that even Alex can feel it. A child that's entirely at the mercy of the same mage that drowned the mouse. A child that, like Alex, has no one looking out for him.
No one, that is, but Alex himself.
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“I, Numair Salmalín,” he kissed against her skin, around her mouth, along her jaw, “do hereby promise that when I said ‘Tortallan birds are like coal compared to the jewels of Carthak’s skies’ I was – and I use this term very deliberately – in a terrible, horrible mood and therefore couldn’t be trusted. Lies dripped like honey from my mouth. I was fit to be hung from the ramparts by my ankles –”
“Waste of good ankles,” Daine quipped. “Could use those for someone more deserving.”
In which Numair calls upon Daine's knowledge of birds in order to get himself out of trouble, with moderate success.
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A dark wind blows from Derry, all the way past Castle Rock to Dark Score Lake where Camp Moribund sits waiting for the air to clear. The children here are wary; they, unlike the adults, know what lurks below. They know what killed Marcie Harris.
The agents of the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit have no memory of this place. When a search for a missing girl and the investigation into the boy covered with her blood leads them to the shores of Dark Score, the last thing they expect to find is a photo of them together, dated some twenty years prior. As far as they know, the picture is impossible. They've never been here.
But they're wrong. They might not remember Dark Score, but It definitely remembers them.
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His Dark Mind by Deejaymil
Fandom Criminal Minds (US TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
28 Aug 2016
Summary
Life for Aaron Hotchner and Spencer Reid is only complicated by their daemons.
- Words:
- 190,494
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- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 304
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Every three days, a man wakes up in a different body. There's no controlling it and no way to prepare for it. All he can do is make the best of his new face with the time he has.
This is a work of fanfiction and as such I do claim ownership over the characters herein. It was created as a personal amusement. This story contains adult themes and situations, and should not be read by those under the age of 18. The included artwork is mine and I claim all copyrights over it. Please do not repost it anywhere without permission.
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- English
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- 110,349
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- 15/15
- Comments:
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- 417
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- 116
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Bookmarked by Deejaymil
01 Jan 2018
Bookmarker's Notes
"His delight in Sage has completely faded by the time he walks into the house he shares with a thousand nameless faces."
Stunning AU. Gorgeous.
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When Steve agrees to dog sit for Colonel Rhodes, he doesn't expect Rhodes' unusual, intriguing, and painfully attractive whirlwind of a best friend to show up unannounced.
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(even in the tremor i feel) a stillness growing by salvage
Fandoms: Criminal Minds (US TV)
22 Apr 2019
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They had both grown up, but Ethan seemed to have done so more than Spencer had: the loose sprawl of his body exuded the confidence of someone who knew his place in the world, knew himself, in a way that Spencer now didn’t believe he ever would. Ethan’s beard only half-hid the planes and angles of his face, the boyish roundness of his cheeks long since smoothed into sharp cheekbones and a defined jawline. Even the gap at the collar of his shirt seemed deliberate, the tiny visible vee of undershirt somehow intentional. To what purpose Spencer could only guess; surely it was not meant to distract him, though that’s what it was doing. His eyes kept drifting to Ethan’s throat and the dip between his collarbones, the smooth tan skin below which worked tendons, pink muscles, the complex highways of artery and vein.
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Smorch the platy, smorch him
goodEvil.Series
Bookmarked by Deejaymil
01 Jan 2018
Bookmarker's Notes
This entire fic was made of me being happy, just, wonderful. All of it is wonderful.
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It is slow, the way they grow back together.
Emily and Reid in the aftermath of season twelve as they attempt to reconcile certain truths they've been trying to outrun for years.
Bookmarked by Deejaymil
14 Sep 2017
Bookmarker's Notes
This is utterly lovely and completely heartbreaking