Orc Pajamas (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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ds_recsredux2008-05-22 12:33 am
instantramen) wrote in ds_recsredux2008-05-22 12:33 am
In the Sewers He Lies Dreaming, Here at the end of all things, Six is the Loneliest Number
Er, hi. *waves* I've been lurking in the fandom for almost a year now and this is me finally getting up the nerve to contribute something a little more solid than the occasional quick link: three quick links with exposition! It took me a bit to pick out three fics to rec for the Mumbojumbo Jujitsu challenge, since apparently that sort of thing takes up a solid quarter of my 200+ DS bookmarks, but I managed it at last so here's a handful of short-but-sweets.
Title:In the Sewers He Lies Dreaming
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
spuffyduds
Pairing: Gen: Fraser, Ray Vecchio
Rating: R for language and ANCIENT EVIL
Length: around 2100 words
Why I'm reccing this fic: In a crossover with anything by H. P. Lovecraft, there are basically two options. You can shoot for a creeping horror á la the original, or you can go in the exact opposite direction and head for Crack City. This is a case of the latter, with a little D&D thrown in for garnish. I don't know about you, but to me that sounds like a recipe for success.
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!”
In the Sewers He Lies Dreaming
Title: Here at the end of all things
Author:shihadchick
Pairing: F/K
Rating: PG
Length: around 1700 words
Why I'm reccing this fic: This was written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
ds_flashfiction's Apocalypse challenge a couple of years ago, and when I went on my new fandom fic binge last year it had so much atypical hope that I think it's the only one I bookmarked right away. If you haven't read it before, see if you can guess which religion's version of the end of the world is happening before the final author's note.
They head south, have been for a few days now, ever since it became obvious that something - something big - is not right. Get as far south as they can manage before the cold overtakes them, icing up nearly everything in their path. They're lucky; they make it to Fraser's old cabin, the one he and Vecchio had rebuilt several years ago, with the live tree that forms part of the foundation, a touch that had always struck Fraser as appropriately Homeric. Little more than the framing and basic insulation had been finished, really, but it's enough. Just enough. They bring in snowmelt for water and huddle around the radio, Dief whining anxious between their ankles.
Here at the end of all things
Title: Six is the Loneliest Number
Author:lordessrenegade
Pairing: F/K pre-slash
Rating: PG-13
Length: about 1300 words
Why I'm reccing this fic: Sometimes a hint of all the hilarious and terrifying potential of a scenario is better than watching everything play out. I definitely wouldn't object to a follow-up to this story, but imagining the trouble RayK and Fraser can get into while waiting for the effects of a mystical doodad to wear off is plenty of fun on its own.
"Oh, trust me, Fraser. This?" he pointed at his face. "This is my hate face." Fraser's eyes swept over him, and he wasn't quite sure, but he thought that he could see the corner of his mouth curving up into a tiny smile. "It's not funny."
Yeah. That was definitely a smile. "It's a little funny, Ray."
"It's…" he paused. "Ok, the hat? The hat is funny. The rest of it, not so much."
Fraser shoved the hat back from his eyes and frowned, tipping his head back. "I don't see what's so funny about…"
"Fraser." Ray reached out and grabbed him by a big floppy sleeve, tugging him towards him. He spun them both around to look at the window of Fraser's office, where they were clearly reflected back at themselves. "Tell me that's not funny."
Six is the Loneliest Number
Title:In the Sewers He Lies Dreaming
Author:
spuffydudsPairing: Gen: Fraser, Ray Vecchio
Rating: R for language and ANCIENT EVIL
Length: around 2100 words
Why I'm reccing this fic: In a crossover with anything by H. P. Lovecraft, there are basically two options. You can shoot for a creeping horror á la the original, or you can go in the exact opposite direction and head for Crack City. This is a case of the latter, with a little D&D thrown in for garnish. I don't know about you, but to me that sounds like a recipe for success.
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!”
In the Sewers He Lies Dreaming
Title: Here at the end of all things
Author:
shihadchickPairing: F/K
Rating: PG
Length: around 1700 words
Why I'm reccing this fic: This was written for
ds_flashfiction's Apocalypse challenge a couple of years ago, and when I went on my new fandom fic binge last year it had so much atypical hope that I think it's the only one I bookmarked right away. If you haven't read it before, see if you can guess which religion's version of the end of the world is happening before the final author's note.They head south, have been for a few days now, ever since it became obvious that something - something big - is not right. Get as far south as they can manage before the cold overtakes them, icing up nearly everything in their path. They're lucky; they make it to Fraser's old cabin, the one he and Vecchio had rebuilt several years ago, with the live tree that forms part of the foundation, a touch that had always struck Fraser as appropriately Homeric. Little more than the framing and basic insulation had been finished, really, but it's enough. Just enough. They bring in snowmelt for water and huddle around the radio, Dief whining anxious between their ankles.
Here at the end of all things
Title: Six is the Loneliest Number
Author:
lordessrenegadePairing: F/K pre-slash
Rating: PG-13
Length: about 1300 words
Why I'm reccing this fic: Sometimes a hint of all the hilarious and terrifying potential of a scenario is better than watching everything play out. I definitely wouldn't object to a follow-up to this story, but imagining the trouble RayK and Fraser can get into while waiting for the effects of a mystical doodad to wear off is plenty of fun on its own.
"Oh, trust me, Fraser. This?" he pointed at his face. "This is my hate face." Fraser's eyes swept over him, and he wasn't quite sure, but he thought that he could see the corner of his mouth curving up into a tiny smile. "It's not funny."
Yeah. That was definitely a smile. "It's a little funny, Ray."
"It's…" he paused. "Ok, the hat? The hat is funny. The rest of it, not so much."
Fraser shoved the hat back from his eyes and frowned, tipping his head back. "I don't see what's so funny about…"
"Fraser." Ray reached out and grabbed him by a big floppy sleeve, tugging him towards him. He spun them both around to look at the window of Fraser's office, where they were clearly reflected back at themselves. "Tell me that's not funny."
Six is the Loneliest Number
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