#cmbyn crossover

[lcdrarry]

10 May - Double Feature | LCDrarry Fic:

It is on the other side of my soul (where your name is written)

Prompt: "Call Me By Your Name", 2017, Luca Guadagnino Prompted by: @dynazty Author: Anonymous Word Count: 16,372 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: implied switching, rimming, anal sex, no age difference (HP canon-compliant age difference)

Notes: Huge thanks to my beta O, who gets things done at the speed of NASA's newest rocket ship, and carries my fic to its end like Hermione does for Ron and Harry's shitty essays. Also, kudos to the LCD mods, who reply to emails at the highest velocity ever achieved by adult human beings (that aren't actually robots). Finally, to you who come across my story: this fic is best taken with the entire CMBYN soundtrack.

Summary: Harry’s having it all, now that the unpleasantries of being treated like a loose cannon is gone: the war is well over, and Voldemort is long dead. He’s made the choice to stay in B, an unplottable magical town in Northern Italy, whose protection wards had kept him in one piece at the height of the second wizarding war, and whose seclusion provides him with the quiet, normal life that he now lives. Harry adores the grassy hills that enclose B like the warm arm of a mother; Likes playing the grand piano from dawn to dusk; Cherishes his current life, on the whole. He gets himself Mocaccino every morning and sometimes has dinner with the Weasleys at their cottage nearby. With the majority of his friends and family falling in love with B and gradually settling down as well, Harry feels like this is the last place he would ever want to leave. To say that the arrival of a certain wizard—a razor-sharp, infuriating blond—makes anything remotely different for Harry would be absurd, of course.

Read it now on AO3.

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[marblenarwhal]

10 minute writing challenge

thanks to @hammer-chalamet for tagging me!! 

have a not-really-Charmie Lone Ranger x Hostiles AU inspired by this post. i know basically nothing about The Lone Ranger except that Armie’s character is v dirty and rugged™, but this was fun. :)

John knows something’s not right as soon as he rides into the gully. It’s quiet here–no birds, no scuttling critters, no sound at all except the heavy whoosh of buzzard wings. He keeps going anyways, scanning the horizon, until he comes to the first body. 

Silver stops dead in his tracks, and John slips off his back, stooping to examine the corpse. Military. A little further on, another body. Comanche, judging by the clothes. There’s scattered supplies in amongst the dead folks, but John doesn’t bother with that; he has enough bullets, and he knows Tonto will have caught a rabbit or two for supper. The sun’s already low in the sky and they’re due to rendezvous in an hour or so. 

At first, he’s not sure why the body in the ditch catches his eye. Another military uniform riddled with bullets, stained with blood, just like all the others. But the boy is young–barely a shadow of hair on his upper lip–and something about the sight of his pale, fine-featured face makes John take pause. 

“Poor son of a bitch,” he says, and Silver whinnies softly like he understands John’s melancholy precisely. Doesn’t help the way the boy’s lying, all haphazard, limbs akimbo like a broken marionette. Not dignified. But John doesn’t have time to dig a proper grave and the buzzards are circling. 

He spots a blanket a few feet away and grabs it, meaning to spread it out over the body. Before he can, the boy sits bolt upright with a gasp. 

John nearly has a heart attack.

*

Tonto doesn’t say anything when John slings him down in front of the fire, just raises an eyebrow in a way that John knows all too well. 

“Think you can help him?” he asks, and Tonto bends down, examining him with a frown.

“We’ll see.” 

*

It’s dark when he finally comes to. Tonto’s off doing god-knows-what and John is staring into the fire. It’s quiet one minute, and then the kid mutters and moans and John nearly jumps out of his skin. He practically has to hold the boy down as he thrashes wildly, muttering in a mixture of English and French about an attack, about the Comanche, about someone named Rosalee Quaid. 

“You’re safe now, you got that?” John tells him over and over. “Calm down or you’ll hurt yourself.”

Eventually the kid stills. 

“What happened?” he asks in a thick French accent, voice hoarse, and John holds a flask of water to his lips. 

“Looks like you were ambushed. Your party left you for dead.” 

The kid manages a few sips, then lies back, spent. His eyes are wide and afraid, but even in the darkness John’s struck by his features. The word angelic comes to mind. 

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Private Philippe DeJardin,” the kid mumbles. 

“Well, I’m John. John Reid.” 

Philippe’s eyes go wide, and John would be lying if he said that wasn’t just a little bit satisfying. 

“The Lone Ranger,” he breathes, and John smiles. 

“Pleased to meet you.” 

tagging @meggiesobsessions @deadantmen @guccichalamet @pajamasecrets and anyone else who wants! i think this is technically supposed to be CMBYN-specific but i think it’s kind of a fun writing challenge that could be for any fandom, really. :P just set a timer for 10 mins and go, then post the result! :) 

i didn’t actually time myself for this so i might have gone a little over but it wasn’t by that much so OH WELL 😬