AughtPunk



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    Something goes wrong. The crown is split during Narinder's defeat, splitting the power between him and the Lamb.

    Narinder keeps a portion of his godhood, and the Lamb finds that abilities they had access to before are no longer possible: Healing is cut short. Powers are halved. And there is a very real chance of perma-death, as the ability to resurrect is not possible without full power, and the God of Death is not cooperative.
    Afterlife and Purgatory are not options either. Dying means erasure. Gone.

    Lambert knows Narinder grows stronger by the day, crown or not, and yet keeps him spared as they try to figure out how to complete their own goals. Narinder vows vengeance on the lamb for usurping him. After a few unsuccessful murder attempts, he's in for the long haul. It is only a matter of time before the Lamb's guard is down before he can strike, and The One Who Waits is very patient. When a mystic being demands they save the bishops from purgatory, an alliance is in order.

    Except...the lamb's actions and their presence begin to unlock abilities within the God of Death he didn't know he had prior to his imprisonment, among other fickle things, like emotions. The prophecy didn't warn him of that part.

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    16/?
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    03 Dec 2023

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    “We need each other, especially now,” Tim said solemnly. Martin just nodded. “Everything’s different, and it’s not gonna go back to how it was when we get back to work. And I, personally, don’t trust anyone else in that place but you guys.”

    “Right now, I just want to focus on us, not…the institute,” Martin said, brushing back Tim’s hair. He kissed his forehead, and Tim melted against the touch. “And this is pretty nice…”

    “Where do we go from here, then?” Jon asked, hesitant glances passing to each of them.

    “I say we go to Camelot,” Tim said.

    “I’d like to…” Sasha said sheepishly.

    “As would I…” Martin said.

    Jon took a deep breath, and he nodded slowly. “Camelot it is, then.”

    ----
    Rewriting the whole series with polychives, shenanigans, and bullying Elias (and Peter). This starts as a chatfic, but quickly becomes a hybrid chatfic/regular fic.

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    12 Sep 2023

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    Never has Jon ever fallen in love with someone at the Magnus Institute.*

    (Not true.)

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    06 Jan 2022

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    “It’s very nice to meet you,” said the erstwhile ice-cube. He had a warm, deep voice; unaffected by his long sleep as the rest of him. It really was spooky. Francis had looked up the daguerreotype: a rusted and pitted old thing, scanned into some museum’s system, taken nearly two centuries ago of a man who had hardly aged a day since.

     

    Francis Crozier, a grumpy history professor, is assigned to introduce a recently unfrozen Victorian naval commander to the wonders of the modern era. Sparks fly, and all that.

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    02 Oct 2021

  5. Public Bookmark 39

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    Crozier foolishly believed that the first Magpie case he was consulted on would be solved by the time supper was ready. He swept into Sir John Barrow’s opulent home, been directed to the man’s private collection, observed the empty space where prized swords once hung, the letter pinned in their place, the feather that had fallen to the floor.
    “You’re not looking for a magpie, gentleman,” he announced in that tone which had prevented his advancement at Scotland Yard ) as he held the feather between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re looking for a peacock.”  

    The Magpie, dashing gentleman thief, has been running rampant all over London, robbing society of their treasures and delighting the masses with his daring and charm.

    Private Detective Francis Crozier intends to stop him.

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    23 Sep 2021