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rebornofstars · 8 days

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A LU Fic Rec List - NOVELS (50K-100K)

I love this fandom so much. Here are my favourite quality novel-length works for when you really feel like curling up with a long story and a hot cup of something. I recommend each and every one of them! In no particular order:

Child's Play by @aimeelouart

If you like the Wild deaging trope, this one is for you. If you like Flora and Wild having the most adorably protective and mildly codependent relationship, this one is for you. If you feel like reading something so cute you'll still be grinning hours later, this one is absolutely for you!

The Wondrous Sword of Legend by @imperialkatwala, @polynomialpandemic

If you like downfall duo, THIS ONE IS FOR YOU. The banter is excellent, the emotions feel real, and the catharsis is very heartwarming. If you've ever wanted to see sword spirit Legend, I am on my knees begging you to read this fic.

A Guide to Living (Again) by @cerame

I think I've read this fic at least five times now. If you like Shadow, this one is for you. If you like thinking about the Chain's Dark equivalents, this one is for you. Each character in this story is entirely three dimensional (despite being shadows 😂) - and it contains, probably hands down, my favourite characterisation of Dink I've ever read.

Language Barriers by Kastaborous

If you've ever wondered what a more realistic depiction of the language drift between the boy's eras would look like, look no further. If you're looking for linguaphile Wild, look no further! This fic is stunning in its detail and lore, and the reveal moment slaps.

Level One by LightBlueScrubs

If you like modern AUs, this one is for you! If you like gripping detail and a fully fleshed out world so harrowing and real that you are transported into the story, this one is for you! If you like angst, if you like following characters as they go through tough times together, if you like hospital settings, this one is destined for you.

this year it taught me (lost and ambitious) by @noorahqar

My friends like to joke that this fic is the Sky Bible (Skyble). It well deserves that title for its characterisation alone, yet it also contains top tier character dynamics and terrific hurt/comfort. This fic changed my perspective on Sky forever. Go read it.

Elastic Heart by @skyloftian-nutcase

If you like dungeon crawls and adventure, this fic is for you. If you like Sky angst coupled with the Chain's agonising worry for him, this fic is for you! If you like Demise's Curse reveals, you have found a masterpiece!

With a special mention to:

Colour Theory by @thescrapwitch

Not Linked Universe, but absolutely worth reading. If you've ever wondered how to reconcile the three doppels in Tri Force Heroes with the Colours from Four Swords Adventures, this is for you. If you've ever wanted a heartfelt murder mystery that is also a comprehensive overview of the game it lives in, this is for you!

I would like to make extra versions of this post for different story lengths - short stories, novellas, etc., so watch out for that. If you have any other fic recs for loz or lu in this word-count bracket, I would absolutely love to see them!

#linked universe #fic rec #lu fic rec #rec list #lu rec list #novel length fics #50K-100K #hi <3 #if you see this authors i love your fics

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slitherpunk · 2 years

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#seal #seals #damage #explosion #hi <3

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fortunatelyenchantingtaco · 1 month

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JJK lore haunts me so badly. Why the fuck is RCT so rare in modern times and barely anyone knows it but everyone from Heian era seems to have it. Where have you lost that knowledge or where are you hiding it.

The fact that techniques depend only on your genetic lottery is so insane. I know it’s to further show just how unfair everything in jjk is, but its honestly no wonder the clans are so insane about their blood and everything. Unless you are lucky enough to be randomly born a sorcerer with a powerful technique(very rare and also hard to find), there aren’t many sorcerers to come around except in the clans.

If we look at RCT as something thats also genetic, it doesn’t make sense cause we know it can be learned. Then its a variation of curse energy manipulation, like strengthening your body with it(its the same with simple domain). Not an inhate technique but a form of control. Then my point still stands why the fuck is it so hard to learn if everyone should be able to do it, Gojo would certainly want to teach his students it, esp Inumaki

Like fucking hell, did CTs just appear? No one created them they just appeared? With all those rules and nuances? This is such bullshit. It doesn’t make sense. People should be able to create them. The fact that Sukuna adjusted his domain so it wouldn’t have a border, while domain is very much a manifestation of your technique, means you can change it. Fuck. I am in Gege’s walls screaming and judging. So much just doesn’t make any sense AAAAAA

Like no wonder Gojo and Sukuna and Kenjaku are overpowered as hell. Most people get one (1) technique but not them. Like i get the point of an unjust and unfair world built on blood relations but god it just doesnt add up. Like i understand we see Heian era sorcerers as so strong cause they wouldn’t have lived till modern times otherwise but it really seems like RCT was more commonplace and the general power level was much higher. Fucking tell me what led to that. Why Gojo’s birth was such a big thing. Why did yall started to thin out. TELL ME

#jjk analysis #if it even can be called that idk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #can you tell how much i put into worldbuilding #70% worldbuilding 30% gays #i cant handle this bullshit #call me annoying it just doesnt #either kenjaku and everyone else just put so much into sabotaging their knowledge of history and everything #or these are holes i cant handle #btw in my au the reason gojo recognises ten shadows even though sukuna in canon doesnt #is because gojo has been in clan bullshit all his life #if you even care #well i know one person does #hi <3

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quirkle2 · 4 months

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who wants zombie au writing. don't answer that ur getting it anyway (1.6k words)

His shoes knock against the old flooring of the house, wood creaking under rubber soles that slide over the woodgrain. He drags them a bit, lifts his limbs up no more than he strictly has to, and they lead him to the nearest sittable surface.

The couch is old and dusty and has likely gone untouched for months, much like everything else nowadays, so he watches the thin cloud of dust billow off the cushions largely with disinterest. He collapses into the fabric heavily, feels the whole thing scoot back an inch and hit the wall behind him. The sound echoes, carried by lifeless rooms, while he unceremoniously drops his backpack to the floor by his feet.

The breath he lets out is slow and methodical and born of pent up muscles, aimed at the ceiling where he rests his neck against the back of the couch and relaxes every limb one by one. It’s a process he forces himself through, if only to rid the constant ache beneath his skin.

Slow, sweeping footsteps meander around the room in front of him, and Ritsu angles his gaze down from his craned back position to look at his brother. He wanders, like he so often does—seemingly aimless, but there’s something procedural about it that he’s convinced he just hasn’t figured out yet.

Shigeo’s empty eyes crawl along the hearth of the fireplace, explosions of ash sprayed out across the red brick. His head tilts up to trace his attention around the angular lines of the television, hung on the wall and screen grey with dust. He flits back and forth between the roundness of the bricked mantle and the sharp edges of the screen, like he’s taking notes.

Shigeo paws the television. Four lines of muck are cleared. The zombie blinks, paws at it again with dusty, curious fingers. Ritsu watches him make a mess of the television screen in silence, blinking tiredly.

He almost closes his eyes, but he fights against the urge and moves his fingers down his lap to reach for his bag. His middle hooks around the loop at the top and he lugs it up and into his lap, where he unzips it and peers into the shadowy contents.

Ritsu fishes out the water bottles. He finds the one with the messy R scribbled along the cap in sharpie and takes a big swig of it. It’s warm going down, constantly insulated in a bag of old, sweaty clothes. He feels like he can taste the odor in it, but it clears the grain in his throat from stomping all over dirt roads today, so he’s still grateful.

He holds out the one labeled S to Shigeo. “Thirsty?”

Shigeo looks at him from where he’s crouched down to the floor now, inspecting the soot along the hearth. Unfortunately, he sees handprints in the black already, and when his brother reaches a hand out to take it, his palm is covered in soot.

He lets him have his fun and settles his own bottle back in the mess of tangled clothes and rolls of bandages. Ritsu rakes his fingers through their stock with no real purpose—he knows exactly what’s in here, and none of it is useful.

They’d been searching all day; Ritsu doesn’t really know how far they’d walked, but it had to be a lot of miles. In and out of stores, up and down empty houses, weaving between warehouses—they didn’t really stop for a break. Not when Ritsu can hear Shigeo’s stomach from here and he himself has shaking hands. They can’t afford a break.

Nothing, though. Not a single goddamn thing worth taking. A settlement must have come through here long ago and swept the highway. They’re in the countryside, where houses are spaced out acres from each other and there’s entire cow pastures between properties. And yet every house they’d seen and entered provided nothing.

Ritsu stares into the negative space in his bag where there should be supplies. His stomach cramps and if he smells another whiff of that godawful sweaty, bloody sweatshirt he still carries, he’s going to throw up bile.

He leans away from the open pouch, eyes wandering to his brother who draws… something into the soot of the hearth. His water bottle sits on the floor, abandoned and still unscrewed. Ritsu leans forward with great effort and a grunt, leaning over his bag to grab at the top of it.

It takes him two tries to get Shigeo’s attention, and one more for an answer on where the cap is. It’s then placed in his palm, covered in soot and also saliva. Ritsu swallows down the nausea that rolls up his throat and wipes it off with his frankly already disgusting sleeve, and screws it back on.

He leans back again, succumbing to the urge to let his eyes rest, and he listens to the very subtle swipe of his brother’s hands across brick. There’s birds outside, chirping, and even though it’s still very much a common occurrence, Ritsu cannot help but feel nostalgic about it.

If he ignores the awful hum of silence, and the distinct lack of an electric thrum throughout the walls, and the fact that this is a stranger’s couch and not his, he can almost imagine normalcy. He can almost say this feels like those quiet moments after school, when he settles on the couch and scrolls through his phone in a house that only holds him and his brother because their parents simply aren’t home yet.

He can almost hear the creak of wood from Shigeo walking around his room upstairs. He can almost tap his fingers on the couch cushions to the pattern of his brother making his way down the steps. He can almost hear the fridge opening, and the sound of milk being poured into glass.

Almost. But Ritsu listens to sharp silence instead, and he tries not to think too hard.

He drifts for a while, feels himself truly sink into the couch and let the cushions claim him, and he thinks about nothings because if he doesn’t, then he’ll lose it. He carefully sifts through the nothingness of his mind, through the passing thoughts that have no bearing, and he focuses on that, on the lack of substance. His head is too full of things that have too much substance.

He misses boredom. He tells himself he misses boredom—the complete insubstantiality of it—because if he lets himself think of what he really misses, it’ll drive him insane.

The cushions move, and Ritsu peels his eyes open and lets himself get pulled from liminal mindspace. The cotton in his head recedes, and he blinks, and then he’s swiveling his head to look at his brother who sits in the cushion right next to him.

His hands and the cuffs of his hoodie are smothered in black. Shigeo sits hunched, gaze still wandering even when there’s not much decoration in this house to look at. He studies the off-white walls, the chips in the paint, the holes drilled in where there maybe used to be photos hung.

Ritsu gazes at him quietly, chest instinctively rising and falling to match his brother’s rhythm. He watches the expansion there, under his hoodie, in the subtlety of the folds and the way they warp over the movement. It’s slightly quicker than what he’s used to, but Ritsu knows his brother’s heart rate is much slower. He’s felt it before. He’s listened to it before, with his ear against a chest.

Ritsu’s attention moves to his eyes, and the heavy bags underneath them, and the paleness of his pupils and the ghostlight of him underneath that. He stares into them, looks for stray, familiar thoughts that might enter his head. Looks for old memories that might shine through in the form of recognition when he sees furniture layouts, and candy wrappers, and ads for soda.

Ritsu looks for it all the time, that glint of familiarity. And he finds it, sometimes. And really, he thinks that’s keeping him going more than food ever will.

Shigeo turns his head, and looks at him. Sometimes, when his brother looks at him, there’s not much there. No substance, no anything. And Ritsu finds it a bit evil that he craves silence in his own head, and yet noise in Shigeo’s, and often times it is the other way around.

His brother looks at him now, though, with that comforting recognition. That growth of the pupils, that softening of the hard edges of his face where unknown stressors have gotten to him. Ritsu wonders what zombies get stressed out. He figures it’s the same deal with humans, considering they’re largely alike.

Ritsu wonders if Shigeo knows he’s sick. He wishes he could ask him. He wishes for a lot of things. Silence in his own head is one of them.

Ritsu swivels his head away and stares at the ceiling, if only to force the thoughts to pause. He studies the popcorn ridges above them, traces the peaks with his gaze. It calms him, gives him something to focus on. He looks for patterns in the shadows they make.

Shigeo shifts next to him. And then he shimmies down, settles into the cushions, and plops his head right down on Ritsu’s shoulder.

Static roars in his mind and his heart stammers. Ritsu swallows the lump in his throat but that just makes it bigger, so he clamps his mouth shut and breathes carefully through his nose.

The tears cut through the grime on his face. He plops his own head down against his brother’s, and lives in the noise.

#qkwrites #zombie au #hi <3 #why am i nervous to share this . jayshut up #just to be clear this isn't going to be a full fic #i don't ? believe in my ability to write a Good zombie apocalypse story #at least one in a novel-like layout yaknow #partly bc i know i'll struggle w the logistics and consistency #but also bc i haven't seen a whole lot of zombie media before #i've never watched the walking dead i've never seen any of the popular zombie movies or shows #i think i watched zombieland 2 once ... the one with woody harrelson and thatone guy #uhm. he looks a bit like michael cera but he's Not michael cera. im not crazy he Does resemble him #jesse eisenberg there it is #but that's.the extent of my experience with zombie things #so i!!! wouldn't know if im just making overdone cliche shit #i prolly already am.this concept is prolly old news. i wouldn't know i don't fucking watch zombie stuff VGEAIYVA #idk.my confidence for this isn't there so im not makin it a fic even tho i kinda want to #but i do still wanna write them. so any zombie au writing will be in little micro-scenes like this <3 #some of em might be bigger than others idk yet. we'll see #i Thought i could call this a drabble. but then i learned that drabbles are literally supposed to be exactly 100 words #this is . notthat GVIYEAGVA #ritsu kageyama #mp100 ritsu #mp100 shigeo #mp100 mob #shigeo kageyama #i feel bad putting this in the main tags but.i mean it Does pertain ....#not the mp100 tag tho . iwon't do that to u

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