Asnyt



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    Fill for this fic-a-thon prompt:

    Someone in John’s staff sells his diaries to the press in the 70s. They’re printed in the papers. They contain his feelings about Paul. They are him pining over Paul. Paul reads them.

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    05 Oct 2026

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    Something ticked in Paul’s mind as the familiar words washed through him. When he looked at John, his friend was already looking at him. And suddenly, it all became clear: He remembered having that conversation more than 50 years ago. He remembered it too well.

    He had been thinking about it for years, wondering what he should have understood, how he should have reacted. If it was as meaningful as it had felt or if his memory had just romanticized it.

    “I don’t think a love like that obeys to any rules,” John went on, unaware of Paul’s agitation. “It’s not something that humans have created, not like a societal thing. It’s deeper than that, and that’s what some people are afraid of I guess, because they can’t control it. Whatever laws they create, they can never control it. A white lad will fall in love with a black girl.” He paused. “A lad with another lad. You know.”

    --

    Summer 2019, 77-year-old Paul wakes up feeling surprisingly good. One tiny problem: he is back in December 1965.

    PLEASE DO NOT SHARE THIS FIC ON ANY PLATFORM. DO NOT PUT IT ON GOODREADS, OR ON ANOTHER FANFICTION PLATFORM, PLEASE.
    NO TRANSLATIONS EITHER, SORRY.

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    26 Sep 2026

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    Daniel is sprawled out across the bed, loose-limbed and lazy, somehow filling all the open space it has to offer and leaving Armand to nestle into the gaps. His cheeks are flushed, blood pooling like it knows what comes next. Maybe it does. Armand was reading about classical conditioning the other day. About dogs who become accustomed to getting food when their handler rings a bell.

    Perhaps Daniel is the dog, Armand’s teeth sharp bells reverberating in his veins. Or perhaps Armand is the dog, Daniel’s blood a song rattling in his ears. He has been a dog before. He runs his tongue along the bow of Daniel’s collarbone, gathers the salt-sweat there and imagines what it tastes like because Daniel does.


    Armand remembers he loved Daniel, once, and that Daniel loved him. Or a version of them did, at least. It isn't his intention to go back to that, but it's not not his intention, either. Such is the prerogative of an immortal: to hold two contradicting desires simultaneously. If nothing else, it passes the time while he waits for this miserable interview to end.

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    22 Aug 2026

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    [UPDATED AND COMPLETE!]

    “There were times in my life when I wondered whether I’d been here at all. Whether it was something I made up— something Marius made up. He took me back, once, as a customer. I didn’t recognize anyone.”
    Daniel leans back against the cushions, runs a hand over the stubble along his jaw. “It happened, Armand. It fucking happened.”
    “Yes.”
    “And you don’t think it stuck around? You don’t think it lingered?”

    [Post-interview, Armand and Daniel go through the files assembled by the Talamasca on Armand's past.]

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    26 Jul 2026

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    (LDL) img3490.jpg

    (LDL) img3491.jpg

    (LDL) img3492.jpg

    (LDL) which color, chéri? for our date

    (DM) uh

    (LDPDL) baby this is the group chat

    (A) the pink ones

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    26 Jul 2026