Magic and Mayhem! (Or, crossover fics in which things veer slightly from reality as we know it.)
***
*screeches in late as usual*
Um. Hi! Let's all just pretend that it's Monday. shall we? As in last Monday, when I started writing this post.
I'm omphale23, and for whatever crazy reason the mods have entrusted me with a whole week of reccing! Which I will now condense to three days, because that's the sort of thing I do. I'm quirky. People get used to it. I'm told it can sometimes be endearing, although I'm pretty sure that's not the adjective that first comes to mind.
Ahem.
My theme, because I always have a theme, is crossover fic. It was originally going to be unreliable narrators, but it turns out I already did that post somewhere else, and so instead I bring you…fantastic fics that feature our favorite characters interacting with other fantastic fandoms.
(For the record? That was six words starting with F. Which is the sixth letter of the alphabet. That banging you hear is the sound of slidellra headdesking repeatedly and then defriending me.)
Anyway. Crossovers! Because while it's wonderful to see our boys (and girls) hanging out in Chicago or Canada, or Vegas (well, maybe not Vegas, what with the whole Mob thing. How about Boise, instead?) it's also awesome when they get to go other places and live other lives and maybe even have wacky conversations with other characters. I love a good crossover, and I even sometimes love a bad one. You should, too!
(I make no promises that Sentinel fic will not appear somewhere this week. For I am weak, and have been known to go for the cheap thrill of kidnapping and magical moose.)
Up first, though, are some stories that feature characters coming to visit the Mountie and his Ray(s) on their home turf. For whatever reason, they bring rather a lot of magic and mayhem and mystery along for the ride.
1. The Dresden Files
Harry Dresden. Angsty. Handsome. Well-intentioned.
He carries a hockey stick, is a cranky police consultant, and lives in Chicago. Harry, who certainly doesn't remind me of a character with the initials BF or of anyone named Ray, is a wizard with a tendency to get involved in very weird situations.
Oh, and he's being haunted by an advice-giving ghost named Bob.
Love Spell, by sam80853. F/K, R.
"A love spell then," I say.
"I'm afraid so," Fraser sighs, looking apologetically at Vecchio like he is quietly accepting the blame for someone being so desperate for his attention that they would go to such an extreme as to cast a spell on him.
Vecchio looks more annoyed than angry now, still keeping an eye on me like I'm going to jump his friend at any second.
"Can you unjinx him or somethin'?" He asks hopefully, forgetting for a moment that he doesn't believe in magic.
"Ray!"
"I probably can, yes."
"Great! Greatness!" He's leaning against the wall, arms folded like he's waiting for me to cast a spell and make it all go away.
Sorry, Vecchio, but it doesn't work like this.
2. HP Lovecraft, who is a person and not a fandom. Possibly he's both.
He wrote about monsters and gods and the universe and horror and the fundamental inexplicableness of almost everything we can imagine, and a few things we can't. He wrote about evil from times so long ago that we can't remember them, and fate. He was, on many occasions, a racist, classist, misogynist prat. Also, The Mountain Goats wrote a song about him.
And yet below the cut you will find some funny, funny apocalyptic shenanigans.
In the Sewers He Lies Dreaming, by spuffyduds. No pairing, R.
They're in Fraser's apartment watching a hockey game, and Ray is yelling excitedly because there's blood on the ice and Fraser is giving him that reproachful look because apparently he thinks that is not what you watch hockey for, when there's this huge sound outside. Giant, giant wet sucky squelchy sound, and then a lot of screaming in the street, and then there's a howl from the apartment below them, a guy yelling, "Jesus, it's Cthulhu!"
3. Newford.
Which, again, is not so much a fandom as it is an imaginary place in which very strange things are commonplace. It is either American or Canadian or possibly neither and both, and was invented by Charles de Lint. For reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, several of Newford's inhabitants are currently in a rundown hotel that may or may not be in Chicago.
It totally makes sense in context.
O'Leary's Hotel, by J Hardin. F/K, PG.
No, his weariness came most of all from a sense that he was trying to lift the world on his shoulders. He was right--he *knew* he was right: people were good, if you gave them a chance; and law was glue and the shaper of society; without law, there was anarchy and senseless pain. And things like honor and courtesy and principle mattered, staved off the chaos and the pain. These things seemed so obvious to him, such blindingly plain truths.
Right. That should get you started. I'll be back tomorrow (Er. Later today) with another set. They might feature exotic locales and robots. Or Jack Harkness.
*screeches in late as usual*
Um. Hi! Let's all just pretend that it's Monday. shall we? As in last Monday, when I started writing this post.
I'm omphale23, and for whatever crazy reason the mods have entrusted me with a whole week of reccing! Which I will now condense to three days, because that's the sort of thing I do. I'm quirky. People get used to it. I'm told it can sometimes be endearing, although I'm pretty sure that's not the adjective that first comes to mind.
Ahem.
My theme, because I always have a theme, is crossover fic. It was originally going to be unreliable narrators, but it turns out I already did that post somewhere else, and so instead I bring you…fantastic fics that feature our favorite characters interacting with other fantastic fandoms.
(For the record? That was six words starting with F. Which is the sixth letter of the alphabet. That banging you hear is the sound of slidellra headdesking repeatedly and then defriending me.)
Anyway. Crossovers! Because while it's wonderful to see our boys (and girls) hanging out in Chicago or Canada, or Vegas (well, maybe not Vegas, what with the whole Mob thing. How about Boise, instead?) it's also awesome when they get to go other places and live other lives and maybe even have wacky conversations with other characters. I love a good crossover, and I even sometimes love a bad one. You should, too!
(I make no promises that Sentinel fic will not appear somewhere this week. For I am weak, and have been known to go for the cheap thrill of kidnapping and magical moose.)
Up first, though, are some stories that feature characters coming to visit the Mountie and his Ray(s) on their home turf. For whatever reason, they bring rather a lot of magic and mayhem and mystery along for the ride.
1. The Dresden Files
Harry Dresden. Angsty. Handsome. Well-intentioned.
He carries a hockey stick, is a cranky police consultant, and lives in Chicago. Harry, who certainly doesn't remind me of a character with the initials BF or of anyone named Ray, is a wizard with a tendency to get involved in very weird situations.
Oh, and he's being haunted by an advice-giving ghost named Bob.
Love Spell, by sam80853. F/K, R.
"A love spell then," I say.
"I'm afraid so," Fraser sighs, looking apologetically at Vecchio like he is quietly accepting the blame for someone being so desperate for his attention that they would go to such an extreme as to cast a spell on him.
Vecchio looks more annoyed than angry now, still keeping an eye on me like I'm going to jump his friend at any second.
"Can you unjinx him or somethin'?" He asks hopefully, forgetting for a moment that he doesn't believe in magic.
"Ray!"
"I probably can, yes."
"Great! Greatness!" He's leaning against the wall, arms folded like he's waiting for me to cast a spell and make it all go away.
Sorry, Vecchio, but it doesn't work like this.
2. HP Lovecraft, who is a person and not a fandom. Possibly he's both.
He wrote about monsters and gods and the universe and horror and the fundamental inexplicableness of almost everything we can imagine, and a few things we can't. He wrote about evil from times so long ago that we can't remember them, and fate. He was, on many occasions, a racist, classist, misogynist prat. Also, The Mountain Goats wrote a song about him.
And yet below the cut you will find some funny, funny apocalyptic shenanigans.
In the Sewers He Lies Dreaming, by spuffyduds. No pairing, R.
They're in Fraser's apartment watching a hockey game, and Ray is yelling excitedly because there's blood on the ice and Fraser is giving him that reproachful look because apparently he thinks that is not what you watch hockey for, when there's this huge sound outside. Giant, giant wet sucky squelchy sound, and then a lot of screaming in the street, and then there's a howl from the apartment below them, a guy yelling, "Jesus, it's Cthulhu!"
3. Newford.
Which, again, is not so much a fandom as it is an imaginary place in which very strange things are commonplace. It is either American or Canadian or possibly neither and both, and was invented by Charles de Lint. For reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, several of Newford's inhabitants are currently in a rundown hotel that may or may not be in Chicago.
It totally makes sense in context.
O'Leary's Hotel, by J Hardin. F/K, PG.
No, his weariness came most of all from a sense that he was trying to lift the world on his shoulders. He was right--he *knew* he was right: people were good, if you gave them a chance; and law was glue and the shaper of society; without law, there was anarchy and senseless pain. And things like honor and courtesy and principle mattered, staved off the chaos and the pain. These things seemed so obvious to him, such blindingly plain truths.
Right. That should get you started. I'll be back tomorrow (Er. Later today) with another set. They might feature exotic locales and robots. Or Jack Harkness.