thuviaptarth | Yuletide recs: Slightly expanded version: 1

Prelude (Angel Sanctuary) My story!

Angel Sanctuary femslash is a treasure in itself and

I especially like the way, even though this is not Setsuna and Sara, it has some of the sweetness and devotion of that relationship.

Other stories

I, Jehudah (Jesus Christ Superstar)
You may not know the musical, but you can't tell me you don't know this story. Fandom familiarity so not an issue here. Fucking brilliant, and I'm still not coherent about this:

(Sand gritty between his toes, it's coming up midday, shadows short and sharp as knives and the sun beaten bright, too bright. Two miles south of Galilee, far from his home, no-one knows who he is, hasn't eaten for two days, stomach's an aching hole in his belly, strap on his sandal broken and knotted and blistered, world's out to get him, take what you can 'cos nothing comes for free.)

It was in the Ivy that DG offered me the script, passed it across the table with the brandy. He likes to think of himself as a gentlemen, but I know we're both punks on a roll. He looks me in the eyes and tells me it's a chance to get back to my roots, stretch my wings, and then he unwraps his cigar. He says it's an ensemble cast, that the producer asked for me by name, that they need my experience. He says there's a slot at Sundance with my name on it and a Cannes opening which, if he's not lying, is pretty damn good for an independent film with a budget that might pay Ang Lee's catering bill on a half-hour short. That could have been kind: he knows there's been nothing on the table since that cop series for ABC, but DG's never been kind in his life. DG and me go back a long way. I remember when he was still cutting his films on the night shift. He knew me when I was young and hungry, a speedfreak with the devil on my back.

I say I'll think about it but I know I'll say yes. So does he.

The Descent of Persephone (Greek mythology)
Nothing but love grows in the land of the dead.

She returned to the outside world to find that she was with child. Her mother did not rejoice at the news, and that seemed so unlike her mother to Persephone. All season long her belly grew, and she, in her happiness, did not give mind to the dark looks of the immortal gods.

Tracks (Angel Sanctuary)

Very quiet, very subtle Kira/Setsuna story. I suppose you don't have to read it as preslash;the love and the premonition of loss, those are the important things.

One-Leaf Clover (Clover)

For a time after C left, there were no mirrors at all. A broke them all the day C walked through one and left only his likeness behind, and again when C refused to return.

This is as lovely and restrained and dark as the original, and makes me wish even more that it would be finished. I am not sure, though, that CLAMP's story for A could satisfy me any more than this.

Growing Up (Narnia)

When authors are revealed, I think I am going to be really annoyed with myself for not figuring this one out. (Well, now I have a guess. But it's probably wrong.) I'm always wary of fic about my childhood favorites, but this is both respectful of the Narnia books and a criticism of some of the aspects that bothered me most. Lucy and Susan, with equal love for both of them.

Susan grew up, and when she got there she discovered with surprise that that isn't the end of things. You grow up, and you breathe a sigh of relief. And then you realise that nothing stops. Life continues to happen around you, and it is relentless, and it won't let you rest for a moment, not even long enough for you to hold a hand against your face and feel the small creases next to your eyes and mouth, that never used to be there.

tread of nimble feet (Wild Adaptor)

Emotional but unsentimental; deeply satisfying. I wish there were more WA fic.

His face is so expressive, sometimes you have to look away because you are ashamed on his behalf. He's incapable of hiding his emotions, not from you. His anger shields him from most of the world, but you have known him too long and too intimately to be fooled. There's something eating away at him today, something making his eyes a little wider, brighter, more desperate to escape.

Written on the Body (Veronica Mars)

It's very odd to see how stories translate from fandom to fandom, myths retold. Because the pattern could so easily be Buffy/Spike; but the details aren't. I think the Logan may be a bit too nice, but the Veronica is nicely complex.

After -- her body spent by the feel and smell and taste of his -- she didn't dare look him in the face, unnerved that she might spot the familiar smirk. It was a definite possibility. Logan being Logan, chances were that he might say or do something assholishy. So instead she stared ahead, pretending that the wall in front of her was terribly interesting.