Author has written 28 stories for Death Note, Pokémon, Ouran High School Host Club, Kuroshitsuji, House, M.D., Harry Potter, Arsenic and Old Lace, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Batman, Justice League, Superman, Smallville, Young Justice, Amnesia: The Dark Descent, and Back to the Future.
FAVORITE FICS THAT I'VE WRITTEN (AKA, THE NYGMATECH SAMPLER PACK)
So, hello. My name is Lex, but Nygmatech (my username pretty much everywhere) works just fine if you prefer! I write mostly for Harry Potter, Smallville, and hope to do some more stuff with Back to the Future, as it's another favorite fandom of mine! You can find my works over on Archive of Our Own under Nygmatech, and I'm also on Tumblr under the username actuallexluthor if you want to follow me there!
Some of my favorite Harry Potter characters are:
Some of my Harry Potter OTPs are:
Some other Harry Potter ships I really really like:
Outside of Harry Potter, my other fandom OTPs are Emmett "Doc" Brown/Marty Mcfly (Back to the Future), Lex Luthor/Clark Kent (DC Comics, any universe), and Jonathan Crane/Jason Todd (DC Comics, any universe).
My favorite genres to write in (besides romance) are horror and supernatural. I have a thing for AUs, particularly uncommon ones--my favorite of the bunch to write is a Southern Gothic AU and I'm also a sucker for Serial Killer AUs of any sort.
THE STAG AND THE QUIVER - RICHARD SIKEN
Once there was a deer called stag. A white breasted, a many pointed. He refused to still when he halted, the hooves in his mind were always lifted. Everything comes close, the branches slide. In a clearing made of cleavings, stag sees another stag. They watch each other, they share no story. I will not cross you and you must move on. There is nothing else. It reminds me of some tale, stay with me to remember, it reminds me of where I was going without you.
The hunter sinks his arrows into the trees and then paints the targets around them. The trees imagine they are deer. The deer imagine they are safe. The arrows: they have no imagination.
All night the wind blows through the trees. It makes a sound.
The hunter’s son watches the hunter. The hunter paints more rings on his glasses. Everything is a target, says the hunter. No matter where you look. The hunter’s son says nothing, and closes his eyes.
The hunter’s son watches the stag.
Clench is a hand word. His hand is clenched. Door with a bad hinge, it wouldn’t open. Do not let go of the arrow, let it slip through your fingers as you relax your grip. This is good advice. He couldn’t do it. There is no way to get to the future from here.
The key to archery is sustained attention. An arrow is a stick with feathers, an extension of the mind. Men and their thoughts, their quivers and their arrows: it helps to see how these things move, and where they land.
The stag watches the hunter’s son.
This is a story of loops, at least one. I stepped off the loop. I spent time listening, testing realms. I snapped a twig in my head and struck out. You know what it’s like to be alone: gimlets and vermicide. You know what it’s like to be alive, so forgiveness.
All night the trees stand silent in the dark, not touching.
I put on the deer suit. I turned my ears in all directions. I’ll live alone or in between. This is the testimony of the deer: solitude, the long corridors, love from a distance. You asked me once, What are we made of? Well, these are the things we’re made of. One house, two house. The road goes away from here.