aailbhe



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  1. Rec 66

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    He filled hundreds of pocket-size notebooks with every and anything that came to mind, scraps of memory, turns of phrase, lists of names, and at night he’d sit in front of the typewriter and tap away until he was too tired to continue.

    It became his hallmark—O’Reilly, competent, quiet, always writing something. Fine. There were worse things to be known for.

    ///

    Or: Radar comes home, starts writing, and never really works out how to stop. Life elapses. In June of 1963, a couple of old friends arrange a visit.

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    31 Aug 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Oh my god.

  2. Rec *

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    A silverwood tree grows beside the atelier. Five seasons it spends with Olruggio, and one with everyone. One shot.

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    11 Aug 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Crying in the club on this night

  3. Public Bookmark 70

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    Legend and Sky find themselves lost in snowy mountains, the rest of the group nowhere to be found and only one direction to guide them: south.

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    28 Jul 2026

  4. Public Bookmark 74

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    “My name is Link,” Link said guardedly. “Link Alphonson.”

    “I’m Ellanharai,” his pack said, just as guardedly.

    The two men before him exchanged knowing glances before looking back at him.

    “Well, see, here’s the thing,” the tall, snarky blond said slowly. “My name is also Link. Captain Link Taylor of the Royal Hylian Army. And this-” He gestured at the fox daemon at his heels. “-is Ellanharai.”

    “Link of Skyloft,” the shorter brunette said, placing a hand over his heart and inclining his head like a noble. Was… was that the Master Sword on his back?

    “Ellanharai of Link,” the crane added, sweeping a wing out and also gracefully inclining her head.

    “Well met,” they chorused in perfect harmony.

    “…Oh, shit,” Link breathed, his sword arm dropping limply to his side as a headache bloomed behind his forehead. “I time traveled, didn’t I?”

    (or: Legend learns how to let people in again. Daemon AU.)

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    23 Jul 2026

  5. Public Bookmark 21

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    If the tomes I have struggled to comprehend are to be believed, you will know this letter is meant for you when— if— it finds you. I intend to burn it in offering to the Sugar-Plum Fairy. She may be gone, but so are you, and so I suppose you may be in the same place. I don’t imagine she will be kind enough to give this to you, but perhaps you will be clever enough to find it.

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    17 Jul 2026