synalev
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‘So,’ I said once the conversation had lulled a bit and we were all sipping our teas, pensively. ‘Is there any truth to the seventh son thing?’
Nightingale raised a quizzical eyebrow but Abdul looked like he knew what I was getting at.
‘You know, the old belief that the seventh son of a seventh son will have special abilities,’ I elaborated. ‘Magical abilities.’ -
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It's 1945 and James Alder, Master of the Folly, receives troubling news.
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As a general rule it’s frowned upon to attack your superior officer. Or any fellow police officer for that matter. That was why my response was not very eloquent when Nightingale told me to start lobbing fireballs at him.
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Molly and Nightingale return to an old routine. Nightingale reflects.
(Art by synalev, fic by Cypress_Trees).
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After the Glorious Revolution, after the Particulars kill John Keel and the fighting that continues (because the world doesn’t stop for one man), a young assassin wakes up in the street half dead with some sort of child trying to pick his pockets.
When there’s no other choice, you take any help you can get.
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04 Mar 2026
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A young corporal in the Night Watch gets a timely reminder of the past and an indeterminate number of free drinks. Originally posted some months ago for a Tumblr fic prompt, but today seemed like a good time to share it here.
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27 Feb 2026
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Vimes handed Drumknott a cup of tea and sat down beside him. The watch house was a warm refuge from the skin-freezing deep cold outside.
They were sitting beside Vetinari’s bed in Igor’s workshop.
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25 Feb 2026
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‘Could you stop sniffing my hair? It’s distracting.’
‘Sorry, just…nice herbs. Garden herbs.’
‘I see the brandy’s kicking in at least.’ Havelock is surprised, Downey sounds for all the Disc as though he's trying quite hard not to laugh. ‘You have the better end of the deal, by the way, you smell of blood and lilacs.’
(His chest feels too empty for recrimination, this minute the spades are eating the earth as they dig Keel’s grave.)
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24 Feb 2026
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‘I want to do something I’ll regret in the morning!’ Downey announced, rather proud of himself.
Ludo laughed, ‘Why would you want to do that?’
‘Because,’ Downey said, as seriously as the gin in his blood would let him, ‘The things one regrets the morning after are almost always the things one is glad to have done when one is old and grey.’
‘That’s uncharacteristically deep of you Downey,’ Vetinari murmured, starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, ‘And rather optimistic to think you’ll live that long.’
Or, an overview of Downey and Vetinari's relationship through the years, told through a kiss.
Bookmarked by synalev
22 Feb 2026