¯´☆✭.¸_ script's favorite fics of all time _¸.✭☆´¯
I wanted a place to store all my favorite stories, so I created one.
A wide array of genres, an even wider array of fandoms.
I hope you enjoy these as much as I do!
(Closed, Moderated)
Recent works
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Summary
One summer day, he sees Voldemort on his neighbor's roof. And it all came crashing down.
Armed with a stabbed diary that oddly brings him comfort and a ring that feels important, Harry is ill-equipped for the summer ahead.
On his neighbour’s roof, staring directly at him, was Voldemort.
It would be comical if it wasn’t for the struggling muggle teen in his grasp.
Mockingly, Voldemort held up a scrap of parchment. ‘Surrender yourself, or the muggle perishes.’
Harry ducked away from the glass and got his writing supplies out. He held the parchment to the wall as he wrote, with a quill this time.
‘I don’t negotiate with terrorists. I’m going back to bed.’
He wiggled it into the corner and left the sight of the window. There was a strangled scream he tried to block out. In bed, he piled his blanket over his ears. Bottom of the line, he needed sleep.
And who was he to intervene? Every damned time he did, the person ended up dead or injured. Cedric, Sirius, and countless other friends had suffered under his supervision.
Harry was done playing saviour.
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“Bloody hell,” he whispered, his left hand shaking as he reached out to lightly touch the words. Could you not be Fate’s personal chewtoy for once in your damn life!?
There it actually was. He wasn’t Markless, but at this point, he honestly thought that wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen. He thought it could be, until—
Avada Kedavra, laid out on his wrist for the whole world to see. The silver letters stared right back at him, taunting him. Unmoving.
He blinked a few times. The mark did not disappear, no matter how may times he opened and closed his eyes.
No, this was worse. Much, much worse.
His soulmate was Tom Marvolo Riddle. The fucking Dark Lord.
Scratch that. This would be the worst birthday yet.
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The Accidental (on Purpose) Acquisition of Venice Theerapanyakul by rebelcongeriem
Fandoms: KinnPorsche: The Series (TV)
26 Apr 2025
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Chay blinks a few times. “Uh, hia?” He says slowly, his gaze alternating between Porsche and Venice. “Why do you have a baby?”
“Oh, him?” Porsche holds Venice out toward Chay like a peace offering, the baby giggling and making grabby hands at his younger brother. “Meet Little Vee. Isn’t he cute?”
(Or: the one in which Porsche kidnaps a baby from two very incompetent baby-snatchers and decides Porchay could probably—most definitely—use another brother. What he doesn't realize at the time, however, is that cute, little Venice belongs to the mafia family and they desperately want him back. Can you say oops?) -
no amount of therapy can help by The_wig_is_a_metaphor
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
23 Jul 2023
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The entire internet is aware of occultist youtuber Lord Voldemort's infatuation with niche content creator JustHarry.
The entire internet is baffled. -
Wandering By by JohnBurtonLee for BookKeep
Fandoms: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Game of Thrones (TV)
25 Feb 2023
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After using the Eye, Desmond finds himself in Westeros, dealing with weird impulses that his Eagle Vision is giving him. Hopefully he's going crazy. After all, the alternative is that the gods are still talking to him.
Recent bookmarks
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Summary
Mama told Kinn about the Pull when he was little, weaving a tale of romance and destiny and putting a sparkle in his eye for the mystical shot at meeting someone perfect for him. For the longest time Kinn thought he wouldn't be lucky enough to know what that was like, till he crashed into a piss-soaked alley while running for his life.
Things haven't gone quite like Mama said. There's a whole lot more attitude than Kinn expected, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued. Things aren't always what they appear to be at first sight...
Now, if he plays his cards right, Kinn has a shot at getting the happiness his mother described. Kinn's always excelled at poker, but this game will test even his skills.
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Summary
Sometime after the food is gone and the iced teas have been refilled, Kim realizes he’s just listening to Porsche tell stories and Porchay talk about music. He's not thinking about how to turn the conversation to his advantage.
They don’t seem to mind that he’s quiet, or that his additions to the conversation are stilted, censoring everything he can’t say about himself and his life. They don’t push him when he evades personal questions. They fill his awkward silences with jokes and banter with each other. They listen whenever he finds something to say.
He can’t tell whether he’s pretending to be Wik or pretending to be Kim, or something else entirely.
It’s…nice.
(or, Kim meets Porsche first.)