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jennagrinsoverml · 3 years

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do u have any really good fic recs for mlb enemies to lovers

Do I ever! Some of these have already been recced in my AU rec list, but since this isn't part of my "undiscovered gems" series, I'm going to let myself rec all of the popular enemies to lovers fic I've been enjoying too 😊

A Series of Meets: Reach by @damagectrlwrites

Paris is safe, except from the rivalry of its two superhero guardians: Ladybug and Chat Noir. Since they were teenagers, the two have raced around Paris, trying to out do-good each other.

After Chat Noir saves a bus of people from falling into the Seine before Ladybug can even get there, Adrien is in high spirits. He helps a young woman reach some chips high on a shelf, kicking off a friendly conversation that ends with a coffee date.

It’s a terrible day for Marinette. First she had a hectic day at work, then Chat Noir gets all the praise for saving a bus of people, and then she nearly topples over trying to reach some chips. At the very least, a nice guy helps her and asks her to coffee. Surely, things will get better, right?

Ladynoir Enemies AU. Never met AU. This one is absolutely amazing and hilarious and YOU NEED TO READ IT!! Ladybug and Chat Noir are superhero rivals, always trying to outdo each other, and being annoyed at the other. Marinette and Adrien get a meet-cute and fall in love. The juxtaposition is perfect and ridiculous and THAT IDENTITY REVEAL OMG.

Dearly despised, (I love you) by @snacc-noir

Marinette could go on about why she hated Adrien Agreste—to his pranking tendencies to ineffable attractiveness—ever since he had the audacity that day with the umbrella.

And yet, here she was fake-dating him while in love with a superhero.

Adrienette Enemies AU. Warning: This is a WIP! But it's so much fun. Basically Adrien and Marinette never sorted out the misunderstanding with the gum and instead just dug themselves deeper and deeper in hate with their miscommunications. Meanwhile ladynoir are totally in love with each other. Add in a whole bunch of sexual tension and seeing just where the author teases out these missed chances and it's beautiful.

Curiosity and Satisfaction by @imthepunchlord

When Adrien agreed to this line of work, he thought all his focus would be on the job of catching the elusive Lady Luck. It never crossed his mind that someone else would catch his attention.

Ladynoir Enemies AU. Although this is a ladynoir enemies AU, this dynamic change bleeds into all of the different sides of the love square and it's so different and interesting! I loved how the changes made actually affected other aspects. The story feels very real and believable.

like poles of a magnet by @rosekasa

ladybug spat her blood at chat noir. invincibility was only granted to the ladybug and black cat that worked together. not even the miraculous cure could heal them, otherwise.

(or, five times they didn’t hate each other, and one time it was love).

Ladynoir Enemies AU. The enemies dynamic here is AMAZING!! Adrien is so in character even when he’s a “bad guy”, and the backstory of how he ended up working with Hawkmoth is perfect. (Also, how is Gabriel even worse??) I love the way the identities are played with, and especially the repercussions of Chat working for Hawkmoth on what Adrien is allowed to do.

Unstuck by @ominousunflower

Chat Noir, notorious supervillain of Paris, experiences a wardrobe malfunction in the best and worst possible place: Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s balcony.

Heart pounding, Chat pins Marinette’s wrists to the balcony. She stares up at him, her blue eyes kaleidoscopic from the lights hanging overhead, her features twisted into a scowl.

“Why are you trying to take my Miraculous?” Chat hisses.

“Because—you—I—” Marinette splutters, her eyes dipping down below Chat’s face. “Why is your suit unzipped?”

“I—well…” Chat sighs. “My zipper got stuck.”

Ladynoir Enemies AU featuring Marichat. I'm an absolute sucker for villain!Chat who just needs someone who's willing to care for and believe in him. And, even as a villain, he's still so recognizably Adrien here. My hearttttt!

out of the woods. by @anxiouscupcake

“I- I have a… Someone I care about very much,” Adrien admitted. “I’m only doing this because my father gave me no choice.” “Well,” she said, lips pursed. “I don’t have it in me to fight The Gabriel Agreste, right now. My hands are tied too.” “I’m sorry.”

To his credit, he genuinely sounded a little remorseful. She even resented him a little for it, because she had so much more to lose than he did, but he just wanted to stay in Daddy’s good books.

She grimaced. Marriage, for one year, they agreed. And a painful few months of “courtship” to convince the press of the authenticity of their “marriage”.

In eighteen months, her father would be hale and hearty, and she’d divorce Adrien Agreste and be nothing more than his business partner.

(...In which Gabriel is an asshole, Adrien is trying and Marinette's stubborn but gives in eventually.)

This is a 2-part series that isn’t finished and that I desperately hope is continued. It’s not EXACTLY enemies AU per se, but it hits the same sweet spot. Ladynoir are in love, but can’t be together. Adrienette are forced to marry because of circumstances and Marinette resents Adrien for it. It’s got Enemies to Friends to Lovers vibes, even if we haven’t gotten that last part yet, and I love it!

i have found someone (like a nomad finds a home) by @hanaasbananas

After Stoneheart, Gabriel figured out who Chat Noir was, and forced him to work for him, rather than with Ladybug. Years later, Adrien is miserable until one night, he meets Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Ladynoir Enemies AU featuring Marichat. Sort of a Never Met AU in that Adrien doesn't start attending school until after he's been a villain for some time and after he's gotten to know (and fallen for) Marinette as Chat. I love it when Chat's a villain and his love for Marinette/Ladybug helps him make better choices!

This Red Love by @hanaasbananas

In another world, he loves her. Would lay down his life for her without a second thought. Would be devoted only to her. In another world, they are partners, fighting side by side to keep Paris safe from Hawkmoth. Ladybug and Chat Noir, heroes of Paris. In this world, Ladybug is his enemy; the only thing standing in the way of what he most desires. In this world, he is not a hero.

Or the one where Adrien and Marinette are dating, but Chat Noir works for Hawkmoth. Angst ensues.

Ladynoir Enemies AU featuring Adrienette. This one has so much tension and the identity reveal and the ladynoir conflict really impacts the adrienette relationship and it's fantastic!

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #ml fic recs #fic rec #adrienette #ladynoir #adrinette #enemies to lovers #enemies au #jennarecsml

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jerzwriter · 2 years

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Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

Here is a sneak peek at three WIPs... all of which will be released within the next 2 weeks. We have:

1) "Sara's Smut" - a really fun Ethan/Casey smut set in the reset era.

2) Their Start, Chapter 10 (unnamed) "The Attack"- it's the chemical attack, y'all! Tobias's pleas to Casey for a second chance fell on deaf ears, until a moment of weakness let her reluctantly open a door. Just when he thinks there is hope, he gets the news..

3) Ch. 35 of Delaying the Inevitable. The FINAL Chapter... officially named "For Good." Here's the deal on this one, I have decided to release chapter 35 and the epilogue on the same day. So, it's really two chapters at once. Bear with me... I hope it will be worth the wait. 💕

See snippets from each work below...

thank you for reading!

1) "Sara's Smut" (lol - love this working title)/ Ethan x Casey (A long peek, because she's been waiting a while for this! lol)

Ethan looked up from his desk when she entered the room. He had assumed she was long gone, and he was right, if only she hadn’t left her phone behind, because this is the last place she wanted to be.

“What are you doing, Rookie?”

“Casey. It's Casey, and I’m just getting my phone,” she said flustered. Why did he have to be here now? “I have to go… I…”

“Where?” Ethan interrupted.

She deflected her eyes from his, not feeling the need to share, but then she felt a defiant fire rise within her. No. This was his doing. He’s the one who turned her away, he’s the one who demanded a reset… why on earth was she feeling guilty? Why should she protect him? When her eyes fixed on his again they had a confidence he had not witnessed in them in quite some time.

“I have a date,"

“With whom?”

“I fail to understand how that’s any of your business; so, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”

“You’re not going?”

“I'm sorry?” She asked incredulously.

“Not in that dress. You’re not going.”

“What’s wrong with my dress?”

“Nothing, except that dress… is mine. I won’t have you wearing it for anyone else.”

_____

2) Their Start, Chapter 10 (unnamed) "The Attack" - Tobias x Casey

Aurora stopped in her tracks when she entered the lab. When she saw Sienna weeping in Elijah's arms, had her mind feared the worst.

"What happened?"

"It's Danny," Jackie frowned. "He died."

"Which is why was have to move faster!" Ethan demanded, "We're running out of time."

"If Casey doesn't make it," Sienna sobbed.

"Casey is making it!" Tobias snapped. "Do you hear me, she's making it. There is no other possible outcome. I am not losing her, and I don't want to hear more talk about it!"

"Hey guys," Ines stuck her head in the door. "The guy from the CDC finally relented. He said one person can go be with Casey, as long as they suit up."

"So who is that one person?" Aurora asked.

"Her mother, easy," Jackie replied.

"Her mother is still over an hour away," Elijah replied, "and we don't even know she has that long."

Tobias shot Elijah a death glare, but he had no time to deal with him now.

"So, who is it going to be?" Ines asked.

"I'm going," Tobias, Ethan, and Sienna said in unison.

_____

Delaying the Inevitable, Chapter 35: For Good

"He has me? Is that your excuse? Because not only is it pathetic, it's wrong. No, Louise, he didn't have me, he doesn't have me, once again he had no one. If he doesn't make it," she sobbed, "... if he doesn't make it he will have lived less than forty years! What's worse, all but twelve of them have been destroyed by you! So don't you dare show up here calling yourself a mother. You lost that right! You don't even know the meaning of the word."

Permatags: @a-crepusculo @animesuck3r @annoyingmillenialnewbie @anonymousrookie @bex-la-get @binny1985 @bluebelle08 @bluerosesbloom @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @danijimenezv @darkswagamerpiratecowboyclown @differenttyphoonwerewolf @dorisz @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @lady-calypso @liaromancewriter @lucy-268 @mainstreetreader @parisa-kh @peonierose @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @rosebudde @schnitzelbutterfingers @secretaryunpaid @sillydg @spookycolorpeanut @socalwriterbee @thegreentwin @trappedinfanfiction @txemrn @writer-ish @youlookappropriate @zahrachoices @kachrisberry @fayeswiftie @choiceskatie

OH Tags: @aishwarya26 @onikalover @peonyblossom @toadfrog26

@choicesficwriterscreations

#sunday six #six sentence sunday #cfwc sunday six #delaying the inevitable #their start series

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deiliamedlini · 2 years

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WIP Wednesday! Two WIPS in one

SO over the past few days I’ve had a WIP crisis, and you may be aware because I haven’t shut up about it on here 😅! I sent the first two chapters of my fic “One Knight” to my friend to help me either spice it up or tone it down. We’ll see how that goes lol.

BUT IN THE MEANTIME, I’ve been working on my other favorite option, which has no name, but it’s a modern BOTW AU that I also keep harassing Tumblr with (seriously, in my last post I had 5 WIP Wednesdays for this one fic going back over a year 😬! Now it’s 6 posts!)

1st WIP: She starts off reading the news, which is what the italics are. Just for context. And they’re still highly antagonistic at this point, not friends.

(Scroll for 2nd): And the second one is Zelda and the Court Poet named Fen. BUT It’s trashy poetry that was about to dissolve into wayyy too much because I don’t know how to write legit poetry! Istill had fun, so it’s going here because I would probably delete it if I don’t do that.

~~~

First (Link and Zelda)

Hyrule’s Hero Spotted With Princess: Is This A Business Arrangement, Or Something More?

Precious Princess Seen In Castle Town With A New Bodyguard: The Hero Of Hyrule Himself

Watch Out, Link Forester’s Newest Lady May Surprise You

Zelda glanced up off her phone to look at Link as she exited her room, packed and ready to go for the day. “Did you know we’re news?”

He turned to her, uncharacteristic surprise on his face as he crossed the hall to stand beside her. “No, I didn’t.”

She tilted her phone so he could see the headlines.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered before glancing up at her. “Sorry, Princess.”

“It’s not as if I’ve never said ‘fuck’ before, Link. No need to be a prude.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Who else is apologizing for cursing?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “It’s out of respect for you that I watch my language, not out of some moral compass.”

“It’s annoying.” Zelda tapped the phone. “Is this stuff true?”

“That you and I are in Hyrule Castle together? Yes, it is.”

“Watch your tongue,” she snapped. “You claim to respect me, and then in the next breath, you’re sarcastic?”

Link, though below ‘Princess’ in the grand scheme of royal titles, was just about level with her as Goddess Chosen. He didn’t fear for his life when he made an ill-advised comment, though that didn’t mean the Princess couldn’t bring down her wrath in other ways.

“Forgive me, Majesty,” he said, bowing as low as he could. The ultimate respect tainted with his own snarky ire.

“I need to go to Robbie’s lab. He’ll have something that I need. You’ll accompany me. It’s just west of the castle.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Majesty…”

She wasn’t supposed to leave the castle. Here was her wrath.

Did Link disobey a direct order to her, or did he disobey the word of the King?

Frankly—and though he’d never admit it—he feared Zelda’s retribution more than the sitting monarch. For one, he had to deal with Zelda almost every day of the week. And two, her seething hatred of him and everything he stood for was so blatant that it had seeped over the side and onto him.

This girl was intent on testing him far more than the Yiga ever did. More than moblins. He’d faced Hinoxes less frightening than her. Because she had one huge advantage over those creatures, one thing that set her apart.

She was smart.

“Link?” she prodded, her eyes sharp, challenging. What was his choice?

Goddess, they were going to be spotted by the press. They were going to be in the news. There’d be no hiding this trip.

They were both going to be in a great deal of trouble when they returned, and she knew it. Was she doing this on purpose?

She had to be.

“Yes, Majesty,” he said, swallowing down his nerves, keeping his uncaring, stone mask over his features.

“Fine, then you’ll drive. Go get your whatever you’ll need. I’d like to leave now.”

“I’m ready now, Princess.”

She brushed past him, listening to the click of his shiny black shoes against the marble floors. Him punctuating every sentence with a title of hers was getting tiresome as well.

They stood in the back lot of the castle where several of the cars were kept. Link unbuttoned his cuff and stretched his arm as he headed down the steps, giving himself some breathing room. He needed it with her around.

He chose a car with tinted windows. Bulletproof glass, black, sleek. It wasn’t inconspicuous, but there was no way they were going to maintain that today. No, today was going to be a test of their ability to work professionally for once. Inside the castle, there was rarely an issue, since his job was essentially guarding doors. At Zelda’s classes, everyone had been vetted, they knew her, he kept alert, but the danger was minimal now with other guards surrounding the building, wandering the halls, and all around evading Zelda’s oddly unobservant notice.

But outside? This was all him.

He took a deep breath as he watched her descend the steps and slide into the back.

She slid in, slammed the door, and buckled her seatbelt before sulking against the glass, a rare, true sigh escaping her. Link glanced behind him before pulling away. “All set?”.

“Are you ever sick of it? I want to go somewhere and not be hounded. I don’t want to deal with flashing lights just to grab a part from Robbie’s.”

He turned out of the lot and nodded. “I do get sick of it.”

The reaction was immediate. Someone had been scouting the lot, and grabbed a camera to take a picture of the darkened car. Another hurried to their van to follow them, riding so close on their tail that Link kept tapping the breaks to make them nervous enough to slow down a bit.

“You know how to do some evasive driving, right?” Zelda asked, watching another car pull up beside them, someone hanging out the window with a camera. They were one car from being boxed in.

Link glanced at her in the mirror and smirked. “I’m Royal Guard trained, Princess. I could outmaneuver these assholes with my eyes closed.”

She grinned, much to her own annoyance. She didn’t mind when he was cocky or confident about things that others could do. She had several Royal Guard trained soldiers. Unlike when someone called him Hero, this title was something he shared with others.

~~~

Second (Zelda and Court Poet)

“How about another?” Fen asked, grinning. “An original. A good one.”

Zelda leaned her hand on her cheek. “I’d never say no to that.”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“I see a princess so soft and serene. She stares back at nothing, for there’s nothing to be seen. A princess so wise, so smart, so sure; she has my soul forevermore.”

Zelda chuckled lightly. He was making it up on the spot.

He winked. “Walk this way, my heart dare sinks; for I am the one who sulks and slinks. She looks my way, I swell with pride; for I am the one who can see inside. For years I lay in the castle cold, wondering if I should be ever bold? Or long I wait, a hundred years pass, ere surely begin to feel like such an ass.”

A real laugh burst from Zelda’s lips, and she crossed her arms, raising her eyebrow. He made a face, one that said he wasn’t done. “Oh Princess, I say, wouldst thou be mine? Or have I just run out of time? ‘Oh, no, dear sir!’ my love exclaims, ‘my heart has no other aims!’ So I gather my courage and take her to wed! Then gather my bride and take her to bed.”

“Fen!” Zelda laughed harder. “Goddess above, please say that’s where the song ends!”

“Hardly,” he snorted, still playing the tune as he smiled. “Against her sweetest lips, my mouth cannot abstain. ‘Oh love’, she moans, ‘please do that again!’”

“Oh Goddess!” Zelda cried, covering her mouth to stop her laughter. She got up and stilled his hands. “No! No more verses! We are in public! Lovely song, but no, this is not going in a harmless direction!”

Setting the accordion aside, Fen stood up. Now, Zelda was tall, but Fen towered over her. “I should be going, unfortunately, Princess. I’m returning to Kakariko for my sister’s birthday tomorrow. And if I stay here with you, I’d be too tempted to sing you another song.”

“Get out of here, then!” she laughed, shooing him. “Oh, wait!”

Zelda perched up on her tip toes and gently puled Fen’s neck, urging him to bend. She pressed her lips softly against his cheek and ran her hand along a strand of loose hair. “Payment for the smile,” she whispered before backing away.

Fen was exceptionally red. “That’s free, Princess. We’ll call that a tip. And in exchange for said tip, I will finish these lyrics—”

“—Oh, no, no, no!”

“—And I will slide them under your door for your eyes only upon my return, fair Princess.”

Zelda covered her face, feeling it heat up. “Fine. But they better be worth the embarrassment of trying to sneak them by my bodyguard. Whatever would he think if he read one of these?”

“He’d see our love for what it truly is, of course!” Fen laughed, grabbing his things. “Good day, Your Majesty. And may that smile remain on your face long after I’ve left.”

“Say happy birthday to Selma for me.”

“I will,” he grinned, and then bowed, leaving without another word.

#WIP Wednesday #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #botw au #zelda #link #court poet #zelink #writing #they swear if that puts you off #poetry #but it's definitely not #Zelda is a flirt #the court poet is a flirt #link is a flirt #everyone in this fic is a flirt

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pandoraimperatrix · 3 years

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Cockblocked by Batman’s son

BatCat | Humour/Romance | 1,4k

The fucker was on her for a while, and as much as their cat and bat game was fun, it was beginning to get in the middle of her business. There was this tiny small Brazilian island with her name on it, and unfortunately it was hard to steal whole islands than jewellery, so, of course, to steal some of the latter to get her island. She was calling it her retirement plan.

She was so close to her goal 12 million goal, only 10k to go, the job had been a god send, a rich collector had just acquired an Edwardian aquamarine and diamond brooch that have been on her client’s list for ages, thank goodness it was not her style at all, so she wouldn’t be tempted. It was easy enough, the security system was not what she expected from her research, but it had been fun to crack it, it was good to be surprised sometimes, she thought, kept her on her toes.

Her prize was already safely inside her bag, and Selina was ready to leave, when he appeared dark and broody, cape flowing behind him like a vampire on a silent era movie.

“Put it back.”

“Oh for Bastet’s sake!”

She ran, he went after her, and to be fair she was having fun taunting him, but there was something odd about that night, usually he gave her a little more of work, he seemed to be lagging. She even looked behind a few times to see if he was still following her, because there was nights in which would just leave to take care of an actual life threating crime. Selina thought that was the case and stopped to look, as much as the danger of him actually catching her and taking her prize back was not null, it almost felt like a let down when he’d just leave like that without a proper goodbye. He had no manners! Have no one taught him how to treat a lady?

Not that she was one.

She turned away and head back small rooftop apartment on East End, she had just entered her home, and pulled the cowl off her head when she felt a massive weight smash against her back throwing her on the floor. Fear struck her even harder, had the celling just fallen? She screamed for her cats to find safety before she managed to wiggle her body around enough to get an idea of the situation.

“What the actual fuck!”

The celling was intact and what was currently pressing her to the floor was the wall of meat known as the Batman.

“Put… it back.”

And then his eyes closed. She had never been close enough to notice before, but they were blue.

Read on AO3

It was embarrassing. She was tied up to a bomb. Heist gone wrong, well, it was good that he appeared since it was his fault that there was a heist at all. After leaving her flat while she napped after playing his personal Florence Nightingale all night, he repaid her by stealing her brooch!

Can you believe it?

The ingratitude?

The disrespect?

It was entirely his fault that she was obligated to break into that stupid warehouse to steal her new mark – an art deco diamond bracelet with an asscher cut, totally her style, she was already planning how to get it back, for free, of course. It was not her fault that the intel that got forgot to inform her that it was the same warehouse that had been used by Don Malone to hide drugs. And that when she broke in the place was no empty and Malone’s goons thought she was working for Falcone. Of course, no one believed her when she told them that she didn’t have anything to do with that.

You know, that’s why Selina had no trouble lying, because the truth hardly matters when someone wants to fuck you up, they will just do it for good measure, for fun, because sometimes you bloody deserve it for being the fool that nursed the fucking Batman back to health and were robbed by him.

But then, just as was she was about to accept that was how she’d meet her maker, a little leprechaun fell from the roof and said in a squeaky voice that she’d be okay.

“Geez, freaks are getting younger every day!”

Until Batman appeared and started defusing the bomb she thought she had already died and was having a very weird afterlife.

“He’s not a freak.”

“Oh… he’s with you!”

Maybe she was having a very weird afterlife. But why the hell her afterlife included the fucking Batman?

“He’s my… hmm… son.”

Wait, that was too weird for an afterlife.

“Your son? And his mother is okay with that? Jesus, isn’t he afraid of falling down?”

The boy had limbed a rope hanging from the roof and was hanging upside down by his pixie booted feet.

“He doesn’t have a mother,” Batman muttered as he still worked on her bomb, well, not hers. She owned no bombs, your honour. He was awfully talkative that night, that Batman. “Robin, behave!”

Oh my god, he was the leprechaun’s father! The information was just too good and at the same time she had no idea of what to do with it. It was the kind of prize she’d keep for herself.

“I’m behaving!” the high pitched boyish voice shouted back, but he did a flip and landed on the floor. She could say she was impressed. How old was that kid? Less than ten, she’d bet.

“Poor kitten, is she…”

“She died” he said so devoid of feeling that she raised an eyebrow. Of course Batman tended to be stoic, but, that was cold even for him.

“I’m sorry for your lost” she tried lamely.

He sighed. Batman actually sighed. What the hell was happening?

“I didn’t know her. He’s adopted.”

That night was one shocking revelation after another, wasn’t it?

“So… There isn’t a Mrs. Batman, then?”

What kind of lame line was that? Urgh. But was he… Nah. She was imagining it. He had not, in fact, sniffed her neck.

Of course, she couldn’t see, he was behind her, and although she could see Robin at the entrance very well because the light coming from outside reflected his little yellow cape as he amused himself by doing what looked like very dangerous acrobatics, where she was sitting, tied to a chair that was chained to a bomb, was completely dark. She could only hope he was really some sort of vampiric meta that could see in the dark otherwise letting him disarm the bomb was not the best of her decisions.

“It’s done.”

He released her. Selina rotated her wrists and stood up, relieved.

“Robin, let’s go!”

She watched as the boy let out a happy yelp and ran ahead, they could use that one as a limitless energy source and end climate change.

“Wait” she said walking around the chair to meet him in the dark “let me say thank you first, you just saved my life.”

“There’s no n-“

He couldn’t end the sentence when Selina blindly pressed her lips against his.

She meant to be a small playful peck, but Batman’s gloved hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her close and before she could think clearly about what she was doing, her arms were around his neck, hoisting her body up to fix their huge height difference issue. He parted her lips and slid his hot tongue against the roof of her mouth, the hard pointy part of his mask that protected his nose biting into her cheek.

“Ewww,” they broke the kiss to look at Robin’s small face wrinkled with disgust, but still remained in each other’s arms for a moment. And then, slowly, they turned their faces back forward.

Selina swallowed down, she still could taste him. And he was not letting her go, she had to be the one to pull her arms back, her hells touching the floor again.

She never thought she’d ever see Batman acting awkward but there was no other word to describe the way he grunted and stepped back before nodding to her and left, taking his little killjoy with him.

She stood there for a while.

She almost died.

She kissed the Batman.

Was cockblocked by Batman’s son.

Batman’s son??

What the fuck!

------------------------------

The rain made the power go out and I was looking through my WIPs. I really don’t remember writing this story lmao. But now It is finished and you can read it!

Please tell me what you think of it.

Kisses, see ya.

#batcat #brulina #baby batcat #gotham #selina kyle #bruce wayne #catwoman #batman #my fic #dick grayson #robin

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histrionic-dragon · 3 years

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A less-sad MCU (sorta)Father’s Day Thing

This one’s an excerpt from a WIP Fandom Trumps Hate fic where Steve (and then Bucky) are found in the 1970s instead of the 2010s and are there to be the wholesome adults that little Tony needs when his dad is busy publicly leading Stark Industries, privately co-leading SHIELD, and generally letting the Cold War distract him from his son. (Growth happens over the story, but it hasn’t yet.) Tony is staying with Steve and Bucky for the summer.

[SCENE: Tony riding on Bucky’s motorcycle. AKA discovery that Tony Stark likes going fast. That scene turns into them stopping at a Dairy Queen to get Peanut Buster Parfaits and, given the resemblance of “bouncy dusty dark-haired talking a mile a minute about science fiction,” an employee assumes Tony is Bucky’s kid. Bucky says something like “Nah, he’s my buddy’s, I’m just borrowing him for a while.”]

“I wish you were my dad,” Tony muttered, remembering too late, as Bucky’s stride hitched just a second, that Bucky’s hearing was at least as good as Steve’s.

Oops.

His stomach clenched; the ice cream didn’t feel so good anymore. “Um,” he said as Bucky turned around.

But Bucky didn’t look mad and didn’t tell him to be nicer to his dad or anything like that. He jerked his head toward the bike, and they finished walking back over to it and leaned against it--Bucky bracing his elbows on the handlebars, Tony putting his on the seat. It was still hot, but he felt like shivering anyway.

Bucky looked at him.

“Your dad likes you,” he said finally. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Tony said automatically, ducking his head.

“He does,” Bucky said, like he’d said no. “And I--I think he really likes being your dad. He just . . . forgets that, somehow. And he’s not good at it, and he’s so used to being good at things that I don’t think he realizes he’s not doing a good job.” He took an enormous spoonful of gooey peanut-and-ice-cream. “None of that,” he continued with his mouth full, pointing at Tony with the spoon, “is your fault.”

Tony blinked. This didn’t feel like a count-your-blessings kind of talk.

Bucky swallowed. “There are some things I don’t agree with Howard on,” he said matter-of-factly, now rooting around in the cup for the next peanut cluster, not looking at Tony at all. “There are things he’s said to you that I’m pretty sure are mistakes. They’re things that I wouldn’t do. But they’re not the things that make me more fun to hang out with.” His eyes flicked up and he surprised Tony with a quick grin. “All this? Today?” He waved around them: the motorcycle, the road, the ice cream. “I can do that ’cause I’m not your dad. I don’t have to raise you. My job’s to make sure you’re happy. If I had to think all the time about what’s best for you and what to make sure you know and what to tell you to care about, should you worry about this, does that not matter, I probably wouldn’t be much fun either. So. You probably wouldn’t really want to trade.”

“I guess,” Tony said, to give his mouth something to do while his brain turned that over.

“I really don’t know what I’d be like as a dad,” Bucky said, scraping stray hot fudge off the side of the cup. He paused and squinted at the road. “Huh.” Then he shrugged. “Well, probably not ever going to find out.”

Tony looked up from his blizzard, which was just starting to look good again. “Why not?”

“Well,” Bucky said, leaning further over the handlebars toward him, “I’m not exactly most people’s first choice as a husband. The whole former-assassin thing tends to put ladies off. Bit of free advice--not a good way to impress girls.”

“Ew,” Tony said. He started digging into his blizzard with renewed gusto.

Bucky snorted. “Okay, hotshot. My point is, people don’t really like that. And I’m not sure I’d like anybody who did. Someone who wants to marry a brainwashed robot—”

Tony swallowed so fast he could feel the freezing cold path of the ice cream down his throat and into his chest and doubled over. “Cyborg,” he wheezed, rubbing his sternum.

Bucky, who’d been looking concerned, rolled his eyes. “Cyborg. Fine. Anybody who wants to marry a brainwashed cyborg assassin, rehabilitated or not, probably has a couple screws loose themselves, you know?” He made a face. “I don’t think I’d go for it.”

Tony managed to make a noise that he hoped sounded like “that makes sense” instead of “augh, the cold is behind my eyeballs now.” He took an experimental deep breath and, when that didn’t feel like ice water, took another spoonful of the blizzard--carefully.

“So,” Bucky continued, like Tony hadn’t almost turned himself inside out with very cold ice cream, “no wife--no kids. So I’ll probably never be a dad.” There was something a little funny in his voice, not sad exactly, but not the kind of comfortable tone he’d had until now.

“Sorry,” Tony said, not quite sure if that was the right thing to say or not. Bucky blinked, and whatever had been there was gone; Tony wasn’t even sure it had been there in the first place.

“Nah,” he said breezily, “that’s just how it’s worked out. I don’t mind. Means I’ve got more time for my sisters’ kids--and grandkids, geez, that’s still weird. I like being an uncle. It’s a lot of fun and it’s really hard to screw up. I like taking care of them. And”--his voice went just that shade serious again, and Tony looked up to see Bucky smiling at him. “It’s more time to hang out with you.”

He flicked Tony’s nose and walked away, snickering, as Tony yelped. “You’ve got chocolate on there.” He tossed his empty cup in the trash can. “Now finish that blizzard before it melts. I didn’t make it through the Depression for you to waste ice cream.”

“Bucky?” he said as they pulled out into traffic. He didn’t say it loudly, but then again, he didn’t need to.

“What is it?” Bucky asked in his ear.

“I’m glad you’re . . . not my dad.”

There was a pause. He was pretty sure Bucky’s grip on him tightened just a little. “Me too.”

Tony curled back against him for just a moment, then leaned forward. They were coming up on it soon, weren’t they . . . ? Yes, there it was. “Do you think we can hit ninety going down the hill?”

He felt/heard something between a groan and a laugh behind him. Bucky was definitely holding him a bit tighter. “Any traffic cops around?”

Tony craned his neck. “Nope.”

“Then let’s see.”

#my writing #Father's Day #non-parental important adults?#Tony Stark #Bucky Barnes #excerpt #Cap 70s fic

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thrillingdetectivetales · 3 years

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Author Interview

I was tagged by the lovely @ianandmickeygallavich1

(Throwing a read more in here because this bitch got LONG!)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 136 works across 45 fandoms, just to give you an idea of what a shameless fandom hopping multishipper I actually am.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

My total WC is 676,938.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

By a Thread, By a String, By a Rope The Magnificent Seven (2016), WIP, Kudos: 987

Matinee Suits, 5125 words, Kudos: 947

Careful Application of External Pressure Grimm, WIP, Kudos: 876

This Night Ain’t for the Holy Man The Magnificent Seven (2016), 5578 words, Kudos: 875

Catch It Like a Butterfly Leverage, 1497 words, Kudos: 658

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try really hard to respond to every comment, but sometimes they pile up and the anxiety of seeing the number gets to me and I just mark them all read and start over with a clean slate. So, apologies if I skipped you. I promise it was nothing personal, just me trying to practice some fumbling self-care.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Probably Curtain Call, which is a Roy Harper-centric DCU fic exploring his feelings in the aftermath of the 2015 Red Hood/Arsenal run.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Pretty much all my fic have happy endings, so I’m not sure which one is the happiest. I feel like that’s a subjective question, haha.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I do write crossovers! I love crossovers and crack fic premises and wild “okay but just go with me here” scenarios, haha. They’re the most fun to figure out, imo. The craziest one I’ve ever written is probably the Shameless-meets-Ducktales crossover I did for Tumblr Jukebox a little while back, though the one I picked up as a pinch hit for the Crossworks Fandom Exchange just last month, crossing over Brooklyn Nine-Nine with Dragon Age: Inquisition is definitely a contender for that spot.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I received a couple of snide comments on a Matt/Foggy Daredevil fic I did under a different name back when I was in college, but that’s about it.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do! I don’t think I’m particularly bad at it, though I do find it very difficult. I’m not sure what the “what kind” question is asking, exactly, but I actually do a smut writing challenge called Monday, Slutty Monday that includes a list of kinks I’m willing to write. You can give it a gander here, if you’re curious.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, though I have had someone ask if they could use the concept of the lover’s noose from By a Thread, By a String, By a Rope for their original works. I said no, largely because it’s a concept I intend to use in my own original works, though I welcome transformative, not-for-profit works to remix or reimagine or play in any of my sandboxes.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have! I was lucky enough to have Doomed to Play, a Magnificent Seven werewolf/vampire AU, translated into Russian several years back!

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not! I am extremely interested, though, as I’m a huge fan of old-school, forum-style roleplaying and I really, really love collaborating on projects, so if you’re interested, please feel free to reach out to me and ask! I can’t promise anything, because I’m lucky enough to live a very full and busy life, but who knows!

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I am not really sure that I have an all-time favorite ship. I have a few oldies but goodies that I revisit pretty regularly, including Harry/Draco, which was baby’s first ship, and Fraser/Kowalski of Due South fame, but I don’t think I’ve ever had a true OTP.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

God, so many of them, haha. I’m terrible about finishing WIPs because I have a very short attention span, but I’m not fully willing to write any of them off because I do periodically poke at the GDocs for a lot of them, even if they haven’t been updated in years. The only one I truly don’t foresee finishing is So Let Us Not Be Lonesome, which is a Magnificent Seven ghost/medium AU, and the only reason I don’t foresee finishing it is because I hope to one day revisit it as an original work.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I’m pretty routinely cheered in comments for writing true-to-character dialogue, really lush sensory descriptions, and tempting food descriptions, so I’ll go with those.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

I tend to overwrite and I really fucking love adverbs, haha. I was a big reader of doorstopper fantasy in my youth, which tend to be really, really purple in their prose, so I lean in that direction. I have a lot of betas whose opinions I trust tell me I go too purple quite often, but I love my descriptive language so I’m not sure it’s a weakness I’ll ever overcome. Let’s call it a stylistic choice, for now, haha.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I do it all the time, and I really enjoy it in other folks’ fic, so long as the dialogue is something that a non-speaker can still understand from context. I think I probably wasn’t great with that when I first started writing Spanish-speaking characters into my fic, but I like to think I’ve gotten a better handle on it since then.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I think it was honestly Ronin Warriors, an anime that used be on Cartoon Network’s Toonami block way back in the day. I had a lengthy and involved Mary Sue self-insert fic that got be like, a few hundred pages long, though it never saw the light of day.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

The two currently at the top of my list are Ted Lasso and 9-1-1, though I can hardly watch a piece of media these days without seeing something in it I want to explore that the creators didn’t have the time or inclination to explore, or that didn’t fit their narrative.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Oh, this is so hard! I honestly don’t know. I don’t tend to go back and re-read my own fic too terribly often, so I’m really not sure, but I will say that one of the ones I think is underrated is The Lady and the Knife, which is a Luther/BBC Sherlock fic that came about because I got tired of Sherlock stans claiming his behavior should be forgiven because he was a high-functioning sociopath and thought it would be fun to see what happened if he ever crossed paths with someone who was actually a high-functioning sociopath and not just a dick. (Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoyed the early BBC Sherlock and some of the fic is chefkissingfingers.gif, I just really hate it when people require their characters to be morally upright at all times. Let them be villains! Let them be dicks! Don’t apologize for finding that interesting!)

I am tagging @thesummoningdark, @blahblahblahclintnickiscanon, @townhulls, @ksansart @rubinecorvus @persipneiwrites @irolltwenties and anyone else who feels like participating! I have a lot of mutuals who write fic and I’m really bad at remembering everyone’s various handles, so please, if you want to participate but I didn’t tag you, go ahead and do it and @ my ass anyway!

Luh ya bbs.

#tec does a meme #tec writes

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gas-station-trackphone · 4 years

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Fic Recs/Mandatory Reading for Reddie fans

Here is an incomplete list of some of my favorite Reddie fics on ao3, because i cannot get over the sheer talent of this fandom’s wonderful writers! A lot of these are the Greatest Hits that you’ll find on almost every fic list, but that’s why I consider them mandatory reading. like if you haven’t read some of these, what are you doing?

the years go by like days by georgiestauffenberg, rated M

the 27 years in between, but better because richie and eddie stay together. every time i think of this fic, i think of that lady gaga meme where she’s like “brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, etc” and maybe it’s bc this is one of the first reddie fics i ever read, but this one is always gonna be my favorite

broken record by spunknbite, rated E

the mother of all time loop fics. every reddie veteran gets chills at the phrase “the house on Neibolt was still standing”

literally everything by stitchy

like seriously just clear a few days bc you’re not gonna want to stop reading this author once you start. no other author has made me literally fucking cackle in one paragraph and sob in the next like this one, pls do yourself a favor and devour all their works like i did

the night we met (take me back) by camerasparring, rated E

ch2 fix-it where eddie shows up at richie’s door alive and with no memory. great slow burn with a wonderfully conflicted richie, 10/10

let’s hear it for my baby! series by cloudings, rated E

OOOOOOOHHH boy! a modern teen!reddie grindr AU that’s both steamy AND sweet?? more like a fucking blessing amen hallelujah

a heart that laughter has made sweet by marjaani, rated E

another lovely teen!reddie fic that’s got it all! sweet, stupid boys, humor, a teeny bit of angst, and some 5-alarm fire smut with some top eddie, as a treat

keep talking. i’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice. by theappleppielifestyle, rated T

angst with a happy ending is my favorite, and this one is just fantastic. so sweet, so sad! and stan is featured as eddie’s afterlife buddy and idk about y’all but i cannot get enough of stanley uris in my reddie fics. read this, then read all this author’s reddie fics, they’re all amazing

collateral by loosecannon, sheepknitssweater, rated E

a post-ch2 fic that i guess could be classified as fix-it, BUT with some very interesting twists. they beat the clown, everyone lives, but no one really gets the tropey happy ending. the WIP sequel is also incredible and i live for the updates.

the greater fool series by mischiefmanager, mostly rated T with some E

this is a series i’ll reread a lot bc it’s so fucking good. follows young reddie into early adulthood, mostly a bunch of cute shit where they figure out themselves and their relationship. also contains the single best teen reddie fic in existence, he came in through the window, but reading the whole series is a must

brokeback derry and everything else by Amuly, rated E

27 years in between, richie and eddie reconnect in their 20s and meet back up in derry twice a year to remember and love each other before going back to their lives and forgetting. so much pain. there’s a lot of sweet stuff in there, but you can see shit’s gonna get complicated from miles away and the anticipation almost gave me stomach ulcers (in a good way). ultimate angst with a happy ending.

let me name the stars for you by playedwright, rated M

speaking of angst with a happy ending...Martian AU!!!!! this one fucked me up in the best way, i literally called my roommate at 2am to vent to her about my emotions after reading it. i go back and reread chapter 8 just to be overwhelmed by it, and it makes me cry every time. plus, there are awesome sequels/companion pieces in the series! read this, i beg you!

walk through fire for you by hyruling, rated T

unwind after all that angst with some cute, drunk, confused eddie being very upset when he finds out richie is engaged. richie only teases him a little before pointing out the matching ring on eddie’s finger.

in the heat of the summer (you're so different from the rest) by kaboomslang, rated E

post-ch2 slow burn with tags that really say it all, including but not limited to: eddie moves to california and richie is a mess, Eddie Kaspbrak’s Hot Girl Summer, and cute middle aged man dates

pivotal moments by danfanciesphil, polypocket, rated E

high school reddie has a sort of fwb thing goin on, but emotions get in the way. featuring wonderful bevchie friendship, hella miscommunication, cute double dates, high eddie, and a happy ending

like a bullet in the back by jerry_duty, rated M

adult idiots in love! a personal favorite trope of mine! slow burn with a fair helping of angst but a really great ending. richie stays with eddie in new york while he’s there on business, and it takes these losers SO LONG to figure it out but the way they dance around it is very cute

no sense of living without aim [WIP] by liesmyth, rated E

richie and eddie meet on grindr in the 27 years between and hey, whadda ya know, they fall in love! i really love this fic but i’m pretty sure it’s been abandoned. i’ve had it open on my phone browser for like 3 months with no update but i still check it regularly bc i’m pathetic and this fic is just so good i’m DYING to know what happens next so read at ur own risk

a strange sense of familiarity [WIP] by Katranga, rated E

another “they meet and fall in love without remembering” fic, and even though it’s not complete yet, it gets regular updates. oh, also, i’m obsessed with it. they’re long distance fuck buddies who can’t admit they’re in love, and then they get hit with the childhood memories! and everyone lives! what’s not to love! also PLEASE read kisses take like mint and every other reddie work by this author, they are all fantastic

adult friends by sudowoodo, rated T

AU where adult reddie meet at a first aid seminar for work (immediately fall in love), become friends, become best friends, and finally get to be happy. has some super repressed eddie and intensely pining richie, which is always fun, and genuinely made me laugh out loud. also please check out this author’s other reddie fics, there’s some super sweet kid reddie in there that really warms the heart

the mind's a funny fruit by joldiego, rated T

eddie wakes up barely alive in derry, has 0 memory, calls himself richie, and moves in with some lesbians. an absolute must read that ought to be on every reddie fic rec compilation. i read this a long time ago and just thinking about it makes me want to read it again.

now what i'm gonna say may sound indelicate [WIP] by IfItHollers, rated E

it took me entirely too long to find this fic since i joined the fandom, and it’s truly a fucking masterpiece. it’s almost at 200k now and still unfinished, and the slow burn is excruciating, but this is a legendary fic for a reason. eddie spends the first chunk of this fic in the hospital recovering from the massive chest wound, and then he and richie move the recovery to ben’s cabin in the woods. the author’s notes for each chapter are a story in themselves

signs of a new lifetime by swordfishtrombones, rated T

one of the sweetest, most romantic reddie fics i’ve ever read. a fresh take on a classic concept: post-ch2, they’re in love, they haven’t said/done anything about it yet, BUT!!! it’s not angsty! they are all cute and giggly like “you say it first!” “no, you say it first!” and it makes me fucking MELT

broadcasting tower by swordfishtrombones, rated E

back-to-back recs from the same author! bc i love these fics so much! sort of similar to the last one in that they both know what’s up and just haven’t said it, but this one’s got the angst! i didn’t know when i read it that it was the same author as the other fic, and i thought how funny, i found another reddie author that perfectly captures this pair in such a wonderfully romantic way! i also just noticed there’s a follow up to this so now i have to go read that immediately

eurydice; the original comeback kid by Vulcanodon, rated M

for the love of god please read this and the other work in this series. it’s a ch-2 fix-it with some intense action sequences and major pining, and it has haunted me since i first read it

love on the telephone by tempestbreak, rated E

okay this one is really just 30k of pure smut but it’s also so sweet and features a mini sexual awakening for eddie and some insecure richie with an emphasis on how much they love and trust each other. also it doesn’t hurt that the smut is fire, like does anyone else want that twink obliterated, or is it just me?

the boy who loves you by candlejill, rated E

eddie lives, richie confesses, things are chill and then they’re not. richie’s career flourishes, which is always nice to read and is what ultimately catalyzes eddie’s gay awakening and realization of his love for richie. it’s got some sad angsty parts and a very sweet ending, and it up there as one of my favorite reddie fics of all time

richie and eddie break up [WIP] by skeilig, rated M

a refreshing and realistic take on life ch-2 for the losers, because being in love at thirteen doesn’t mean you can fall into a perfect relationship at 40. i’ll admit, i’m hoping this will ultimately be a “richie and eddie get back together” fic, but it’s still a very good read (and often very funny in the second chapter) at the moment in the midst of their break up

september 1989 and everything else by pineapplecrushface, rated T

cute kid reddie figuring it out and making me smile. the follow up to this and the after derry series by this author are also personal favorites

go west by ssstrychnine, rated T

road trip fic! an absolute work of art slow burn with teen reddie in the 90s. it’s so beautifully written i just wish i could go back and read it for the first time again

the edification of eddie kaspbrak by tozier, rated M

character study with some incredible fucking prose, my lord it gorgeous. explores how eddie learns about love as he grows up, and it’s super fucking sad sometimes bc the poor boy doesn’t know how to have the things he wants and i just want to give him a hug, but it’s really a spectacular fic

circular motion by sinchronicity, rated M

soulmate!AU that follows book canon and even though it’s been a long time since i’ve read it and the details are fuzzy, i remember absolutely loving it and thinking it was incredible

tell me you know by RichiesToesHurt, rated E

college losers with some severely pining and jealous richie with a lovely ending

predicament bondage [WIP] by dgalerab, rated E

i resisted reading this fic for so long, recently broke and binged all of it, and now i’m like frothing at the mouth for updates. richie’s a closeted actor/comedian who meets eddie, a professional Dom, when he needs help researching a role. they become friends, they develop crushes, richie realizes he’s a sub, and it’s just so much fun to read

there’s a lot more fics to rec so i might add on to this in the future, but in the meantime my biggest tip for for reading fanfiction that took me embarrassingly long to figure out: focus on the authors! if you read something you like, check out the rest of the work by that author bc odds are you’ll like that too. i mentioned it in a few specific works above, but check out the authors catalogues for these fics. if i included every work by these authors that i loved, this list would be miles long

feel free to add on any great stuff i missed, there’s sure to be tons of it!

#reddie #reddie fanfiction #fic rec #IT movie #it stephen king #losers club #these are mostly just my ao3 bookmarks #there's more in my ao3 if you want to check me out: lilypond3

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gumnut-logic · 3 years

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Snake Bite (Part 1)

I wrote fic! For the first time this year. New fic! yeah, I know I have WIPs, but the muse was misbehaving and rebelling all over the place, so as you saw in a previous post (amongst all the amazing fanart, wow), I wrangled it and this is what I came up with. It’s not much and isn’t finished, but fic! I hope you enjoy anyway.

Many thanks to @scribbles97 and @tsarinatorment for the read throughs and support. you guys rock ::hugs you both::

-o-o-o-

It was a beautiful evening. The day had been hot, but the sun was waning and a breeze had picked up enough to disturb the cloying heat prologuing the cool desert night.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have stepped off the decking in a suit with a champagne glass in his hand, perhaps he should have left his explorations for another night when he could have been dressed appropriately, but Virgil was used to grabbing the moment and the inspiration when he could. Tomorrow was never guaranteed.

Tonight was a rare case. Lady Penelope had invited the Tracy family out to her station in the outback for an evening of entertainment. There were a number of notables there and Scott had been heard to mutter something about working holiday, but Dad had shushed him and promised to take some of the networking load.

It was times like these Virgil felt a little guilty. While he didn’t mind a party and it was certainly fun to socialise, he felt he didn’t have that suave business sense like Scott, his father and even to a certain extent, John, who hated parties at the best of times. Though if you gave John a long distance communication method and he could have anyone eating out of his hand. A skill Scott deployed on many a business occasion.

No, Virgil was more of the practical sense. Something broken, he could fix it, someone hurt, he could tend to them. Juggle the fallacies of business and the underhand agendas? He had no patience or tolerance. Besides, he had reliable feedback that he couldn’t lie to save his own life.

But whatever, he was good at what he was good at.

So, sometimes the quiet desert evening was more attractive than the bustling social scene inside.

He eyed a bird of prey circling far above and wondered vaguely what type it was. Thoughts of different birds on a different farm came to mind.

A sigh and he swallowed a sip of champagne.

The bubbles popped on his tongue.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have stepped out, dressed in a suit, carrying a glass of champagne, but the evening was picture perfect and the quiet so alluring.

He didn’t go far. While Australia had become more familiar since they had moved to Tracy Island, it was still vast, still had a reputation of being deadly to the unwary, and this was no Kansas farm.

The red sand under his feet glowed in the evening sun.

Sharp grass - learnt the hard way - grew in tufted spikes along the path, tiny flowers dotted between the rocks. Penelope had said that spring was on the region and that they might see some lovely flower displays.

Virgil fully intended on investigating as soon as possible.

The path rose a little as he climbed a hillock and he couldn’t help but look back over the ranch buildings to the glowing presence of Thunderbird Two parked on the far side.

He had brought her with him for two reasons, the first being in case of a callout. The second was more related to that business manoeuvring thing. The overt presence of an International Rescue vehicle, while never explicitly used in dealings, was useful as a reminder to those who may forget exactly who the Tracy family were.

Virgil’s lips thinned as he stared at his ‘bird. It was a Dad thing. One of the many new things his father’s return had introduced. Scott had never used IR as a business tool and Dad technically wasn’t, but there was a contrast between how Scott worked and how their father worked and there were lots of little things like this that made that obvious.

The fact the Thunderbird was high up on her struts and towered over the landscape was functional and strategic at the same time.

A sigh and Virgil took another sip of champagne before turning to once again follow the path up the hill.

He didn’t see what he stepped on, but he felt it.

Soft, moving, he had that split second of realisation that his foot had encountered something alive, a stumble to try and avoid hurting whatever that was, and he overbalanced, only managing to not faceplant in the dust due to many years on the training mats with Kayo.

He still landed in an uncoordinated mess in the middle of one of those spiky grass tufts.

It stabbed him through expensive fabric.

Ow.

And rocks. There were rocks.

Damnit.

Red dust coated his pants and suit jacket and there was a definite scuff on one shoe.

Whatever it was he had nearly squished, slithered off into the grass on the other side of the path.

It only took him a moment to connect the dots.

He’d stepped on a snake, apparently, a little one, but a snake.

In Australia.

The continent renowned for such deadly reptiles.

Aw, hell.

But Virgil was an experienced responder. There was no need to panic. He rolled himself off the grass, his eyes pinned to where the snake had disappeared.

The grass complained and stabbed him a few more times through his clothes, but he got onto his hands and knees.

Nothing obvious was hurting, other than all the needle pricks, so that was a good sign.

His dress shoes were more red than black, along with the nice charcoal suit pants. The sooner he got off the ground, the better, but the medic in his head was yelling at him.

He yanked up both pant legs and poked around his socks, examining his skin for breaks. Even then, he almost missed it.

Two tiny little pin pricks on the inside of his right ankle.

Shit.

The current locations of his family members flitted through his head.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

It was going to be absolutely fabulously newsworthy to have one of the Tracy brothers carted off in his own ‘bird simply because he didn’t look where he stepped.

The setting sun was still calmly gazing over the landscape, lighting everything up in gold. But it felt far more sinister now.

The breeze ruffled his hair.

Sitting in the dirt, knowing he shouldn’t move, Virgil sighed and thumbed his comms. Maybe he could minimise the damage.

“Gords, you got a minute?”

-o-o-o-

Gordon was having a great time.

If there was something he missed living on an island in the middle of nowhere, it was this.

Penelope had one soft hand on his arm and was smiling at him as several of her friends laughed at one of his jokes. The fact the stuck-up toff, Duke Butterfingers, looked less than pleased was just icing on the cake. He was definitely on Gordon’s scorn list after his snide remark regarding Sherbet versus his ‘real dog’ wolfhound blah-blah.

It appeared the dog was smarter than the owner.

But Pen’s girlfriends were great conversationalists and it was nice to talk to someone other than family or those with their lives at risk for a change.

Yes, it was proof that he needed to get out more.

The subtle twitch of his collar comms against his skin wasn’t to be ignored, however.

A hand on Pen’s hand. “Please excuse me a moment. Duty calls.” He did not bow. Well, not really, but the amused smile and the sparkle in Penny’s eyes made it worth it anyway.

Her hand squeezed his arm and let go gently. Her eyes didn’t leave him immediately. “Felicity, do tell me about your new parlour. I hear it is being featured in Great Homes of Britain?”

If her blue eyes hadn’t turned away at that moment, it would have been questionable as to whether he would have been able to leave. But leave he did, wondering which family member he had to torture in the future in revenge.

Finding himself a polite corner, he opened his comms and frowned at his brother’s worried voice. “Virgil? What is it?”

It took a moment, enough to grab Gordon’s attention a little more. “Virg?”

“I’ve been bitten by a snake.”

“What?!”

“I’m up the hill at the back of the ranch. I stepped on a snake.” I need your help. It wasn’t said, but it was obvious. “Don’t tell Scott or Dad. Yet.” That last was said a little tentatively.

But Gordon was already moving, running the list of dangerous snakes that could likely be found out here through his head. If anyone noticed him dash from the room, he didn’t really care.

Compression bandage. Immobilisation. “You stay absolutely still, you hear me?”

“I’m aware of the procedure, Gordon.”

The location of first aid kits in Penelope’s house was quickly overridden by the vast store of equipment out in the carpark in Two.

Gordon was in a full out run before he realised it.

The evening was cooler but still warm from the day as the sun still hadn’t gone down. Two loomed over everything as Gordon dashed between cars and dodged guard rails. Two parking attendants stared at him as he tore past, but he ignored them.

Reaching Two, he swiped a dance of finger code over his left jacket sleeve and a control hologram leapt up from the fabric. The keys to his brother’s ‘bird were a necessity he was ever grateful for in this moment.

The great green Thunderbird hummed to life and lowered on her struts, smooth as ever, down enough for her forward hatch to reach him. He jumped on board and was in the first aid lockers without a second thought.

The countdown in his head was predictably short as his comms went off only a few seconds later. That would be John.

Gordon ignored it and switched back to Virgil.

“Any idea what type of snake?”

“Small and brown. It’s all I got. Didn’t see it. Stepped on the poor thing.” A pause. “I’m sorry, Gords.”

“It happens.” He slammed the locker shut, grabbed a hover stretcher and linked it to his comms. He cursed the lack of his uniform and all its inbuilt necessities with it. The essentials woven into his suit jacket and collar comms were barely minimal.

A brief thought of moving Two to his brother faded quickly as he poked the pilot’s dash and Virgil’s location lit up. He wasn’t very far away at all and there was no room to park Two anyway.

No room in the Australian Outback? An oxymoron, but it would be faster to just grab his brother and throw him on Two.

It was going to be bad enough lifting off once.

He jumped back onto the hatch and lowered himself. Securing Two he broke into another run. “You know you’re not going to be able to hide this from Scott, Dad or anyone here? You’re going to hospital, bro, and Two’s the fastest way. No one is going to miss her launching.” He leapt over a fence, the hover stretcher darting to follow.

“I know.” It was a quiet and sad answer.

“Medical status, Virg. How are you feeling?” He peeled around the corner of the main building and fixed his eyes on a figure part way up a hill in the distance.

Virgil waved.

“Gordon, report! John says it was you who accessed Two. What are you doing?” Scott, as commander as ever.

A harsh breath as his feet hit the bottom of the hill. “Thunderbird Four responding to a medical emergency. One of Penelope’s guests has been bitten by a snake. Evac imminent.” Another breath as he finally made it to Virgil’s side. The expression on his brother’s face could only be considered despair. “Scott, we will need media management. Victim is high profile. We need to keep this on the downlow.”

A pause as Gordon set down the first aid kit. Virgil’s lips were tight as he pointed to the red and swollen twin pin pricks on the inside of his right ankle.

Gordon shoved open the kit and, without another word, grabbed bandaging.

Scott’s voice was sharp. “FAB. John is accessing Five. Victim identity?”

Virgil sighed and his shoulders dropped before he thumbed his comms. “Scott?”

“Virgil?”

“It’s me.”

-o-o-o-

TBC

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy

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arrivisting · 3 years

Text

wip amnesty: versailles

Did anyone else watch Versailles?

[crickets, probably]

I loved the first season of that show. The WIGS. The DRAMA. The GILT. It helped a lot that @gofuckinggentle and I watched the first season together in Paris, after a day-trip to Versailles, and in the after-throes of Les Mis/George Blagden passion. It was tremendous fun: the right show at the right place, at the right time, with the right person (<3). Season two was a tragic waste of potential and made me furious, and season three was unwatchable. But I adored season one - it was just the right mix of silliness, EMOTION, history, and fake history. I went off the deep end reading Bourbon history and began a lot of stories set after season one (and then season two happened and murdered them). Here is one:

We're leaving, Philippe said to the Chevalier, and we’re never coming back. He meant it at the time.

There are different types of wounds. Philippe’s no doctor, but he saw enough of them on the field to know; some you live through, and some you don’t. Some heal clean, without needing much fussing. Others need hot iron or tar to stop the bleeding. Still others fester, musket-holes where fragments of grapeshot, mud, and cloth linger; unexpected scratches that suddenly belch pus when you press on the hot and heated skin.

You die fast, or you die slow, or you get better.

At Saint-Cloud, Philippe gives orders to open up only his rooms, and then, after a moment’s thought, the kitchens.

“Are we not planning to entertain?” the Chevalier asks. “Silly me, I packed silk, not sackcloth and ashes.” When Philippe stares at him, appalled, he shrugs. “We’re expecting the king, aren’t we? Sooner or later.”

“I’m in mourning. Tell him I don’t want to see him.”

“That won’t work.”

“I won’t see him.”

“You’ll have to,” the Chevalier says. “I mean, for the funeral–”

“I won’t see him,” Philippe shouts. He shuts his eyes for a moment. When he speaks again, he’s in control of himself. “I only want to see you.”

The Chevalier blinks, then smolders at him. The effect is more affected than genuine, but that’s what Philippe wants from him right now. “Ah. Shall we christen the place, then, my love?”

Around them servants – his servants, not Louis’ - have been opening the shutters, removing the holland covers from the furniture, bringing in armfuls of new linen. They’re all not looking at him so pointedly it feels like he’s being stuck with pins. Someone he pays to attend to the niceties has begun hanging black cloth over the mirrors. Philippe should care about the example he’s setting.

“Take off your coat,” he says, and the room clears. Eventually.

Louis doesn’t come to Saint-Cloud. Which is a pity, really. Philippe would have liked to bar him from his rooms with pikesmen. They could see how he likes it.

“You wouldn’t,” the Chevalier says, languidly amused. The way he says it sounds like he’s saying you should.

“I wouldn’t,” Philippe agrees, giving it just the same intonation.

“You should order your mourning clothes,” the Chevalier adds, like he thinks Philippe won’t take offense if he slips it into the conversation in the same careless tone.

“We’re not discussing that.”

“But you like new clothing–”

Philippe says nothing, but he takes the Chevalier’s chin in his fingers and pulls his face close like he might kiss him just to shut him up. Then he tightens his hold until the Chevalier’s smirk turns into a grimace. “We’re not discussing that.”

“We’re not discussing that,” the Chevalier repeats, and when Philippe lets his grip relax he shakes his head, tossing his long blond curls over his shoulder. After a moment, for effect, he gets to his feet, brushing invisible dust off his cuffs in the way that means he’s piqued and he wants Philippe to know it.

Well, the dust could be real. Saint-Cloud has been shut up for months while the court festered at Versailles in the marshes. Philippe will allow him the benefit of the doubt this time.

“All the same,” the Chevalier says softly. When he speaks that low, Philippe is allowed to pretend not to hear him, and the Chevalier to pretend not to have spoken. “You will need to do something, my darling.”

Louis doesn’t come to Saint-Cloud, because he’s too awful to give Philippe the satisfaction of having his entrance barred, or to suffer the displeasure of crooking his little finger and not having Philippe obey. Instead, because Louis is awful, he sends Bontemps himself, and two royal heralds in most stiff and ancient costumes, little portraits of Louis set around their necks.

“Oh,” the Chevalier says, sucking in his breath with intent. “How charming.”

Philippe batts his nose fondly, like he’s chastening a lapdog. “Shall I get you one for your birthday?”

“A necklace, or...?”

“I prefer the one on the left, don’t you? I know how you feel about redheads.”

“Your highness,” Bontemps says, sounding and looking pained and disappointed. Luckily, Philippe doesn’t share Louis’s transparent yearning for a father-figure, so it has no effect on him. If he’s wished that Louis had some similar need for a brother – well, that’s the past, and he left that behind at Versailles. “His majesty wishes you to know that the funeral of Madame will be held this Sunday. You are expected.”

“I am busy,” Philippe says, and gestures at his surroundings like they speak for his overwhelming state of preoccupation.

Bontemps glances at the lake – calm as a mill-pond, a clear mirror for a clear sky – and at the chateau – shut up like an abandoned property, or a house under siege, a house in mourning – and at the Chevalier, who wiggles two fingers at him.

He says, “You must attend, your highness.”

“I must do nothing, unless my brother commands me. Does he command me?”

He wouldn’t dare.

“He does,” Bontemps says.

The journey to Paris is miserable. Philippe only manages to vent a little of his spleen by loudly ordering Cosnac to expect his return to Saint-Cloud within the next week. Bontemps, block of wood that he is, doesn’t change expression, but he manages to radiate the tranquil assumption that as soon as Philippe is back in Louis’s orbit, his plans will change.

If Philippe has to spend the next two hours shut up in a landau with his brother’s valet, he’s going to stab someone. “And it might be you,” he tells the Chevalier, who has started exuding an irritating smugness that his sotto voce avocations about the need for action have been proved correct. If he has to spend that two hours with the pair of them, bouncing over the ruts in the dry, cracking road with the Chevalier fondling his knee and Bontemps staring straight ahead, he’ll definitely arrive in Paris in more of a murdering mood than a burying one. “I’m riding.”

“Don’t you think you’re arriving under enough of a disadvantage without arriving in dishabille?”

Philippe ignores him.

His thighs are burning by the time they reach the Palais Royal. He’s dusty, the pervasive white dust of the road thick on his boots, but it’s not like he’s going to be receiving in these clothes, in any case. The guards at the Palais are wearing black. He’s going to need to outfit his own men properly. He should have done it at Saint-Cloud.

He hadn’t wanted to bring death into the house where he and Henriette had been young. That’s no excuse for ignoring etiquette.

“My rooms,” he says curtly over his shoulder, tossing the reins of his horse to a waiting groom in the second courtyard. Louis isn’t there to greet him.

He should have draped the damn horse in black; he should have ridden in with a black cloak that covered its hindquarters, a black feather in his hat as long as his arm, and a face nearly as long. That’s what everyone expects from him. Drama.

“Of course, your highness,” the waiting equerry says. Philippe doesn’t know him. Versailles has sucked up all the best personnel from the residences, the way it’s sucked up all the money from Louis’s coffers, all the freedom from France. “My condolences, Monsieur.”

It’s better that Philippe doesn’t know him; doesn’t know any of the bowing black-clad guards and servants and maids he passes as he stalks down the familiar corridors to his own suite. They’d been young here too, once.

There are white lilies and roses in clusters in their accustomed vases in the first of his rooms. Philippe stops dead for a moment.

They’re fresh; cut this morning, from the perfection of their petals. Their scent hangs heavy in the air, spring itself despite the late summer outside. It’s sweet and thick, and so familiar his throat closes for a moment and his fist clenches on the flower he’d reached out to touch, crushing it.

Did someone have them put out on purpose? For a moment, Philippe wonders. A mourning lady-in-waiting who’d admired his wife, perhaps.

Louis?

He shakes his head, angry at himself for the thought. It’s an order Henriette gave with a decisive clap of her hands a decade ago, and never revoked. Part of the pattern of this place, the pattern they all follow, weaving something greater together. The court hasn’t been at the Palais-Royal since his mother died, but the curtains are still drawn open and closed each day by the staff that remain, in case Louis should come: the gardens cared for, the flowers placed in his rooms as part of the usual preparation for Monsieur’s residence.

“There you are,” the Chevalier says, sounding aggrieved. “Do you know, I had to be quite firm with the guard on your doors before they would let me pass? You shouldn’t have ridden ahead like that and left the poor old fellow and I in your dust – Oh, good, you’ve found something suitable.”

Philippe turns around. The long black train of his mantle swirls around his ankles. “I’m being thrifty,” he says, the word in his mouth an unpleasant thing. “Am I quite out of fashion?”

The Chevalier smiles. “You look magnificent,” he says, and touches Philippe’s cheek with a fingertip. He smells like musk and ambergris, the scent of him usually enough to make Philippe’s stomach warm, his cock stir. Strong, powerful. Male. “Down to your shoe buckles. Jet?”

“Black diamonds,” Philippe says, giving him an appalled glance for the suggestion. “Oh, of course; you weren’t here for Mother’s funeral.”

“This is what you wore then?”

“I didn’t have time to order new clothes,” Philippe says, and the Chevalier glances at him, but forbears to mention the past three weeks at Saint-Cloud, enough time to turn out a full trousseau for even the least endowed of heiresses. “That will have to be attended to. There will be –” he swallows – “Ceremonies. Formal visits of condolence from members of the family, dignitaries of the court.”

“And then the funeral,” the Chevalier says. His eyes have gone soft, honey-hazel, salt-caramel. Henriette’s eyes were darker.

“And then the funeral,” Philippe says, and closes his eyes. Admitting that feels like one of Louis’s victories; a humiliating defeat. A painful thing, lodging in his throat like a stone. It was easier in Saint-Cloud to pretend that Henriette was still at Versailles, where he left her. Alive, only in the next room. He doesn’t want the Chevalier to look at him like that.

“I’ll be by your side,” the Chevalier says, and his voice has gone soft, too. Gentle. It’s not a common tone for him, although he’s not incapable of careless kindness when it suits him. Genuine tenderness is rarer still.

“I shouldn’t have brought you,” Philippe says, and opens his eyes. “You can’t be by my side. Not for this.”

The Chevalier looks like he’s been slapped. “Philippe –”

“We have to be serious. I have to be serious.”

“I only want to help–”

“You can’t.” Philippe smiles, unhappily. “This time is for family.”

“God help you, then,” the Chevalier says, in a tone Philippe's more familiar with, and takes a step back.

Henriette is dead. His wife died in Louis’s bed, the way she lived, choking on black bile and her own blood and then the air itself, thick with the smell of lilies.

As soon as Philippe is officially in residence, the visits begin. They continue with monotonous regularity for the next three days. Philippe is scrupulously well-behaved with most of the useless courtiers, lies rolling around their mouths like marble. There are a few who look genuinely sorry. He’s icily, regally Bourbon with the ambassadors from Spain and from Venice and from Genoa, from the German princelings and Scandinavias. With the cardinal from Rome. He’s a little less well-behaved with the two-tongued lying bastard from the Netherlands who condoles with him, saying how the stories of Madame's beauty and grace gone before her; what a loss she must be to France!

"She is a great loss to me," Philippe says. "She had already brought the greatest possible glory to France."

"Truly, your highness," the Dutchman says, and turns the sweaty colour of one of his pale cheeses. Philippe can only hope that he reports the conversation to his master verbatim. If William of Orange doesn't understand his meaning now, he'll understand it soon.

"Philippe," the Queen says, and kisses his cheek. Of course she looks good in mourning. She's Spanish. She's at her most comfortable in a black mantilla and clutching a crucifix.

Marie-Therese fills the formal role of queen admirably in court ceremonials, but she draws back her dignified skirts from the day-to-day of the court, the theatricals and the dances and the back-biting. It was Henriette's responsibility to be the female energy of the court, at the heart of each banquet, dancing the lead of each masque and court ballet. Louis overflows with meaning, produces it in excess, and one wife alone isn't enough to channel it for him, to fill all roles female for France the way Louis fills all male roles.

It'll be the Montespan's job, soon, if Philippe knows his brother - and he does. The women themselves are interchangeable to Louis. The work goes on.

"Sister," Philippe says, and kisses her cheek in turn. The lace of her veil is gritty under his lips.

Marie-Therese regards him soberly when he draws back. She doesn't like him. Philippe's always known that she doesn't approve of him, even before she made it clear in the regency conseil chamber.

She looks tired. Her face is drawn more tightly than usual, her dark eyes heavy. It would touch Philippe, if he thought it was truly for Henriette. "My husband sends his regards."

"Funny, then, that he sends them through you," Philippe says.

Marie-Therese stares at him. People think Louis has poise, but he's easy enough to upset if you know his weak places and aren't afraid to put your fingers in them - which, in all fairness, most people are. Louis has nothing on his wife. "He has been otherwise engaged."

"I do believe I could put money on just how he's been engaging himself," Philippe says. "How is dear Athénaïs?"

"She is well," Marie-Therese says. "And the Chevalier de Lorraine?"

"Prostrate with grief."

"Henriette is a great loss."

"It was her left side," Philippe says. "I was trying to help. It was her left."

Marie-Therese’s face, still and regal as a wooden Madonna, doesn’t change. He can’t read in her face whether she believes him or not. He wants to shake her until a real emotion comes out. “It’s in God’s hands now.”

“You of all people should know better than to confuse the king with God,” he says.

“Your highness,” Masson says. Her hands are clutched behind her back. She really is absurdly plain, brown from the sun and strained from whatever books she spends her time on. The male attire makes her look plainer. “Monsieur.”

There’s some kind of irony in the fact that Louis has made a pet of this girl dressed in boy’s clothing, but treats Philippe with such colossal scorn over his female finery. What’s her actual name? He can’t ask her that. Louis has forbidden it. The king states she is a man, and – voila! She is a man. “Monsieur Masson.”

“I wanted to tell you how sorry I am.” Her eyes are earnest and blue in her simple face. Far too earnest for Louis’s court. “The damage done by the poison was simply too much. I wished so much – but I did all that could be done for her highness.”

“I’m sure you did,” Philippe says lightly. He holds his hand out to her to be kissed and looks pointedly to his left. “I thank you for your service.”

She doesn’t move.

Honestly.

“Etiquette,” Philippe says, “for male members of the King’s household, states that you go to one knee when dismissed by a son of France, mutter ‘It was my honor, your highness,’ kiss my rings, and get to your feet in one smooth motion. It shouldn’t be too difficult. Come now.”

“I came to make my report to you,” the boy-girl says, hands still clenched behind her. “About Madame la Duchesse’s death.”

“I was there. I know what happened.”

“Yes, your highness,” Masson says. Her eyes are still too sorry. He remembers them from that night.

What a horrid, intimate vigil it had been.

Henriette’s left hand in his, her blood gurgling in her throat; Louis on the other side of the bed, holding her right. She’d reached for him first, of course. Philippe had been the afterthought, her gesture to him the last attempt in a lifetime to balance the equation belatedly.

“You left the court after her highness’s death -"

“I was there while she was alive.”

“Yes, your highness. What I meant is that you were not there to receive my report on her death.”

“You report to Louis.”

“I must also report to you.”

“Well, that’s a new line,” Philippe says. He recrosses his legs, one gleaming shin in its black silk stocking replacing its partner in the ascendant. “I assume he told you to come here today. When is my dear brother planning to make his own sympathy call?”

Masson says nothing. What can someone outside their particular knot of Bourbon blood and loyalty and fear say? It’s best to say nothing at all. Philippe would approve, if he didn’t read her adamant loyalty to Louis into her strained face.

Louis trusts her. How unfair that she seems to be worthy of it.

“Well?”

“I conducted the autopsy on Madame la Duchesse, on the king’s orders. The stomach was flooded with a fermented bile, and the organs of the abdominal cavity were in an advanced state of gangrene –”

“Stop,” Philippe says.

He’s going to be sick. The room swims. His shoe-buckles glisten up at him, the dark diamonds in their silver settings performing marvelous feats of multiplication, dividing into twos and fours and eights.

Masson is holding his arm and saying, “Keep your head low, your highness. Take a full breath. And another. Do you have any scent?”

He needs her to stop touching him. No wonder she came into his apartments with her hands behind her back. Those hands had cut Henriette apart and opened her for study, had exposed the shadowy places in her heart, the secrets and the sadness.

Masson’s advice helps, and after a few lungfuls Philippe has a hold on himself enough to wave her aside. “Finish your report. It was poison?”

“Antimony,” Masson says. She’s still too close, still watching him as though he’s her patient, but she drops back into her report. “As we had suspected, but my tests have now confirmed it. She would have felt pain in her right, your highness, as well as her left. I could not have saved her once the poison was ingested.” That helps, somewhat; and not at all. “That is my private report, known to the king and the queen, and to Marchal and Louvois. His majesty has had it given out that her highness died of a colic in an attack of cholera morbus.”

“Of course he has.” Louis can’t be blamed for it if Henriette died a natural death. “He sent you to tell me this.”

“He wished you to know.”

“How thoughtful of him.”

Masson is still looking at him with earnest, diagnostic eyes. Philippe offers his hand again, in distance and in dismissal, and this time she manages an almost acceptable bow before leaving.

#wip amnesty #My fic #versailles

17 notes · View notes

plasticnightmaredoll · 3 years

Photo

I wanted to share the writings I am currently working on because it really is a personal “triumph” for me of sorts. After having an unpleasant experience with someone in a different fandom, I kind of lost my desire to write 😯. I lost all confidence and motivation, and even though I had ideas I could have written down, I just didn’t feel the joy anymore.

It was months before I started to slowly get back into writing, although, for a different fandom. Not sure if I will return to writing for the fandom I was sort of left disenchanted with thanks to someone, but I am at least writing something -- anything. And I actually am having a fun time again!

These are the ideas I have that I am working on or hope to work on. Now, I can’t promise if any of these will be done any time soon, nor can I promise if I will complete all of these. Some may be abandoned, some may take a short time to write, some may take a very long time to write. But to celebrate my return to writing, I wanted to make this post.

Now, I am not trying to brag. I’m not a professional writer and I still have lots of things to improve on. So, don’t think I’m trying to act all “high and mighty.” Trust me--I have tons of insecurities about my writing!

Anyway, here’s the list:

N/SFW Alphabets:

NSFW Alphabet for Telltale Games Penguin/Oswald “Oz” Cobblepot

SFW Alphabet for Telltale Games Riddler

SFW Alphabet for Arkham Knight Riddler

Headcanons:

NSFW + SFW Headcanons for a polyamorous relationship with Telltale Riddler and Telltale Penguin

Fics/Drabbles

“Look What I Found” - Arkham Knight Riddler x Female Reader/Female OC/Self-Insert (haven’t decided which it will be yet) (a collection of samples for this one are available here)

Summary: Basically, AK!Riddler gets his shit together after catching feelings. It just takes him some time to realize that he has developed feelings and, of course, he has to figure out how to reveal them to his lady friend (legit friend, not “that” kind of friend lol)

Notes: Will contains lots of fluff and some smut. Features Riddlerbots being cute. The title is that of a song by Lady Gaga, from the “A Star Is Born” soundtrack. It kind of fits what the plot of the fic is about, I think. May have an “epilogue” fic with LOTS of smut.

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Untitled AK Riddler Birthday Fic - Arkham Knight Riddler x Female Reader/Female OC/Self-Insert (haven’t decided which it will be yet)

Summary: Edward receives a surprise gift from his lady friend (no, not “that” kind of gift lol “That” comes later 😉) for his birthday, the first present he’s gotten from anyone in ages -- if he’s ever received one. He’s touched, but also internally panicking because he hasn’t ever gotten her a present. So, what will he get her in return?

Notes: Will contain mostly just fluff and probably no smut (I know, it’s a shock to me, too 🤣). Will feature AK!Riddler being adorkable

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"A Man Who Makes Me Alright” - Telltale Riddler x Female Reader/Female OC/Self-Insert (haven’t decided which it will be yet)

Summary: Tons of smut, some humor, and a good helping of fluff. A sort of “slice of life” drabble with Telltale Riddler and his lady, you could say.

Notes: Will contain Daddy kink, just so you know in case it’s not your thing. Will contain Dom/Sub stuff because, let’s be real: Telltale Riddler is a fucking Dom and I am a hardcore Sub 😂. It’s not going to be, like, EXTREME, but it will be kinky. Will also be an age gap pairing but the lady in question is NOT underage, so you don’t need to freak out. But I also know some of you may not like age gap pairings so...fair warning. Very strong chance it may be a self-insert fic, and I’m half Telltale Riddler’s age so it won’t be an epic age gap pairing. This also means the fic may get a little personal -- and not just in regards to revealing some of my, uh, “interests.” Title is a line from Lady Gaga’s song, “Teeth.” I love her, ok? The song fits the pairing and content of the fic anyway.

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Untitled Enigma/Edward Nashton x Lorelei Jones (my o/c) fic

Summary: What the title suggests. I made Enigma a hot detective girlfriend 😂😂😂 But in all seriousness: She’s still a WIP, but most of her character has been developed. The story is meant to take place while Edward is at the GCPD, right around the time he decides to blackmail the shit out of Gotham’s corrupt elite. However, things go much differently than they do in the “Arkham Origins” game.

Notes:

One major change from the “Origins” game is Edward’s motivation to go through with this blackmail plan (let’s just say he’s doing it out of love, to put it simply. The other major change is that he doesn’t become Riddler. Is it a spoiler? Yes, but not a big one. That’s actually what started this fic and the creation of Lorelei Jones: what if Edward Nashton never became Edward Nigma, the Riddler? What if something transpired that “saved” him from that descent into madness, depression, and obsession? Was if this sassy, sexy nerd actually got a happy ending instead of a tragic one? Will contain a lot of smut because...it just will 🤣 Hey, I want Enigma to have a real good fucking time, ok? (quite literally in this case 😏) Will contains plenty of fluff, though, and a decent amount of angst.

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That’s all I have in the works for now -- and thank the lord because this is enough to keep my busy for a good while. Like I said before: no promises on when or if any or all of these will be finished, but I’m going to do my best. Hopefully nothing knocks me on my ass and ruins my motivation...

#riddler #arkham riddler #telltale riddler #telltale penguin #edward nigma #edward nashton #arkhamverse riddler #edward nygma #oswald cobblepot #oz cobblepot #self-shipping #self-insert #reader insert #female reader insert #o/c #female o/c

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mirach · 4 years

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Good Omens recs

Here are some of my all time favourite stories, but be warned that my taste is rather specific and can get into darker themes. I especially like hurt/comfort focused on Aziraphale, but that’s not the only thing you’ll encounter in this list.

The Strong Tower by @aziraphalelookedwretched (M, 41,458)

After the failed executions, a vengeful angel takes it upon herself to neutralise the threat presented by Crowley and Aziraphale.

All stories by BuggreAlleThis are wonderful even if they get very dark in places. There (almost) always is comfort that’s more than worth the hurt and I love them all, but this one remains special to me as one of the first stories I read in this fandom and awaited every update eagerly.

White Walls and Dead Air by BabyHoldMyFlower (G; 3,382 words)

It’s after the fourth day that he decides he hates God. He’s too tired to hold it back. Too miserable. Too busy dying. He knows he’ll go back on it later. He knows that he’ll repent later, and he’ll mean it, he thinks, once he gains some perspective, but there is nothing that could stop this bone-deep agony from churning and rising into something ugly. He’s not supposed to feel this way. He’s an angel, he really shouldn’t be thinking these things. Blind obedience is what they were created for. It’s in this moment that he can admit to a flaw in the Almighty’s design. If she wanted soldiers, she shouldn’t have given them the capacity to love.

Beautifully written and bittersweet, with lovely wing grooming and insights into the characters.

A Demon Would A-Wooing Go by @shinyhappygoth (G; 301 words)

“Heigh ho,” said Anthony Crowley, and just drove anyway.—Good Omens

Filk of "A Frog He Would A-Wooing Go".

I just love a silly take on a silly folk song that was actually referenced in the book, okay?

Flaming Sword by Bookwormgal (T; 8,576 words)

A dark shape in the not-quite-empty darkness. Dressed in black robes. Humanoid. Skeletal. Then wings unfolded. Angel wings, but not ones of feathers. Wings of night. Wings that Aziraphale could sense more than see in this strange place. And even if the thin thread didn't truly exist except as a concept to better understand what was happening, one skeletal hand rested on the weakening connection. Waiting patiently.

Azrael. Creation's Shadow. The Angel of Death.

"Oh," he said quietly, his voice swallowed by the emptiness.

Aziraphale remembered what happened. He remembered moving. He remembered the blade sliding in, sharp and sudden. He remembered pain. And then…

"I died, didn't I?" he asked.

I like the exploration of the theme of self-sacrifice here. This is just my personal pick from several of my favourite stories from this author.

Courage by Anonymous (E, 21,595 words - WIP)

Ten years after the world didn’t end, Heaven and Hell want to punish Aziraphale and Crowley for their treason. Gabriel decides that the perfect way to punish both of them is to torture Aziraphale and force Crowley to watch; Hell agrees to the plan. Aziraphale and Crowley are kidnapped from their South Downs cottage and taken to a neutral location; Aziraphale is tortured and raped and Crowley is forced to watch; they are then returned home, Aziraphale critically injured.

This is the Prologue (the first three chapters; all of the violence is confined to chapter 2, which can be skipped).

The real story begins in chapter 4; it’s the story of how Aziraphale and Crowley recover from the trauma. They are both profoundly traumatized; it takes a long time, but they work through it together, and their marriage recovers. There will be a happy ending.

Aziraphale and Crowley heal each other.

This story is a WIP, but it already got to the part where things are getting better. It’s very (very!) heavy, but absolutely beautifully written, it’s giving me goosebumps.

Love Seeketh Not Itself to Please by die_traumerei (T, 14,645 words)

After Aziraphale is left gravely injured by a summoning, Crowley must take him to heaven and bargain with the angels for his life. It doesn't go as he'd expect.

A hurt/comfort story that’s focused on the comfort part, really satisfying to read!

Evolution by @lady-divine-writes (M; 1,455 words)

Five times Aziraphale wasn’t the most confident Dom, and the one time it finally clicked.

Again I’m only picking one story, but there are so many more from this author that I love! I bookmarked this one because I don’t usually see Aziraphale as Dom, but here he is fully in character and gets there through conscious effort, and it feels very empowering.

The Longest Night by @charlottemadison42 (series rated T-E, 34,747 words)

The night the Apocalypse doesn't happen, an angel and a demon share a bus bench on the way home to face their fates. This is the story of their evening spun out line by line, all the little moments that carried them through the night they knew might be their last.

A wonderfully written series giving a detailed account of the night before the trials, complete with drunken talk, with wonderful grasp of the characters. Again just a personal pick from the stories by a really great writer.

Who Needs Heaven (when we have each other)? by Kat_Rowe (series rated G-M (so far), 48,057 words so far)

Now that they're independent of Heaven and Hell, Aziraphale and Crowley become even closer. Friendship eventually turns to romance, and emotional intimacy to physical. (Slow-burn friends-to-lover fic series.)

A very gentle series starting with wing grooming and continuing through the exploration of a relationship in which one of the partners (Aziraphale) is asexual.

Fancy Patter on the Telephone by @hotcrosspigeon (G, 12,854 words)

A series of telephone conversations between Aziraphale and Crowley during the Lockdown.

They get steadily more desperate and ridiculous as the weeks go on.

Featuring a moping demon, a teasing angel, a pub quiz, an explosion, extraordinary amounts of alcohol, a bubble bath, awkward flirting, several love confessions... and an ill-conceived bet on who can last the longest without seeing the other.

What could possibly go wrong?

HotCrossPigeon is an amazing hurt/comfort writer who writes absolutely delightful Aziraphale ahurt/comfort from Crowley’s spot-on POV, so definitely check their other stories as well, but I just had to pick this one that’s actually humorous and doesn’t contain even a drop of blood because I couldn’t stop laughing with it.

Feathers by @29-pieces (series rated G; 23,247 words)

Pre-Apocalypse shenanigans. In this AU, when an angel and a demon fight, the victor customarily takes a feather from their opponent signifying victory over them. Usually followed by killing them, naturally. But sometimes the defeated angel or demon is left alive, minus a feather, so that everyone KNOWS. Neither Crowley or Aziraphale ever took part in that sort of thing because it's really just a mean thing to do.

A series of three stories, two with hurt Aziraphale and one with hurt Crowley.

5 Times Aziraphale was Almost Discorporated and One Time He Actually was by @charliebrown1234 (series rated T-M; 29,011 words)

This series is an absolute match for my need of Aziraphale hurt/comfort, just like their more recent story Ex Infirmitas, Sinceritas. One of the authors I’m subscribe to and read everything they write.

The Whole Sky Fell by @thepaisleyelf (T, 9,692 words)

“Okay, Aziraphale, out with it,” Crowley said finally. “What’s wrong?”

Aziraphale blinked. He suddenly seemed very interested in looking anywhere that wasn’t at Crowley, fiddling with the napkin in his lap.

“I don’t -- I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

Aziraphale really was a terrible liar. Under other circumstances Crowley might have found it charming, cute even, but his concern had been growing ever since he’d picked Aziraphale up for breakfast that morning....

Same as above, Turcote just knows what I love to read. Definitely check their other stories as well!

Desperate Ground by @desperateground (M, 55,883 words)

After they prevented the apocalypse and escaped execution, Crowley and Aziraphale thought they were safe from the machinations of Heaven and Hell. But there are still some demons with scores to settle - and since the angel and demon have made it clear to the world how far they're willing to go for each other, Hell has plenty of leverage on them.

A breathtaking story with torture and unwavering loyalty of the characters to each other.

***

And if you find these recs to your taste, then you might also enjoy

Back to the Roots by me (M, 90,946 words)

"We always knew it would end. Like mortals know that they'll die." Crowley closes his eyes, finding the stare of his own reflection unbearable. "When you're immortal, you can afford to pretend and hide and go slow. And then, when you finally figure it all out, it turns out that what you have can end anytime. It's unfair..." ---------- The morale in Heaven and Hell is low after the failed Apocalypse. Punishing the traitors (effectively this time) seems like a good idea to raise it for both sides - the angels would see what awaits them if they dare to disobey and the demons could just use some fun. And then there is someone else as well - someone whose grudge is even more personal.

Also torture and unwavering loyalty, breaking the characters and then putting them together with great care. This is the darkest from my stories, so if torture is not your thing, you can check my other ones (mostly Aziraphale hurt/comfort too).

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens rec #hurt aziraphale

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iamwestiec · 4 years

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fic I want to see: five futures Tony/Rhodey/Pepper deserved but never got

Hey there friend! I'm going to take advantage of the @goodintentionswipfest to finally answer this ask by posting what exists of the fic I totally never finished writing you for this prompt before I burned out real hard on writing last year. Hope you get a little bit of fun out of what's here. <3

1 - MIT meet, 100% less drama

Tony meets James-call-me-Rhodey Rhodes at MIT. In other universes, they were on campus at the same time, but the whiz kid playboy tearing up the mech-e department and local bar scene seldom crossed paths with the steady grad student getting a masters in aircraft design courtesy of the Air Force.

In this one, they are inseparable.

Rhodey's got a way of following his train of thought that Tony's never encountered, and his intuitive understanding of flying machines outstrips Tony's own. (Tony is determined to catch up, but Rhodey never makes him feel bad for having to. Entirely unlike Howard, he thinks, and feels disloyal for the thought.) They bounce ideas off each other and make each other sharper, better, and it's a feeling of belonging Tony never expected to find. When they build an AI - a Turing-complete AI!! - Tony jokes about them becoming parents without ever going on a date, and the look of wistful fondness on Rhodey's face is all the encouragement he needs to finally ask him on one.

After graduation, Tony owes years to SI and Rhodey owes years to Uncle Sam, but they keep in close touch, with plans to go into business for themselves one day. Times being what they are, no one asks, and no one tells, but he and Rhodey both know that the much publicized dates with various eligible ladies are for maintaining appearances and nothing that will really come between them.

When Howard and Maria die, Rhodey must cash in every favor he has to get the leave, but he's there for the funeral. Tony is pretty sure his steadfast support is the only reason he could stand to be sober those first couple weeks. Stark men are supposed to be made of iron, but Rhodey's always been the one with a core of steel.

Rhodey never trusts Obie much, and - continued relationship with Tony notwithstanding - Rhodey is an impeccable judge of character. A few years later, an internal audit proves his instincts right when Stane is caught laundering company assets to sell weapons on the black market. Terrified at the thought of his weapons in the wrong hands, Tony quietly begins to diversify SI's business model - clean energy, healthcare, [THIRD THING] - things that can build the world up instead of tear it down.

Eventually Tony is able to hire Rhodey away from the military to be his chief airframe designer and personal test pilot. They move out to California to oversee the autonomous search-and-rescue drones they're developing, and set up in a preposterous mansion overlooking the ocean in Malibu, with their ever growing family of bots and JARVIS to make the huge place feel full.

Despite having no qualms shout their personal AI butler and robotic lab assistants, Rhodey calls him bougie when Tony brings on a driver, Harold-call-me-Happy Hogan, and a personal assistant, one Ms. Virginia Potts. Happy's a solid driver and a cheerful guy, but Ms. Potts is a downright revelation. She's the second person he's met now who has no trouble keeping up with his mile-a-minute mind, and though her competencies lie along a different line than his or Rhodey's, he quickly realizes they are no less remarkable. He also plain likes her in an easy way he so seldom clicks with people. Tony might be a little bit smitten.

After a while he realizes Ms. Potts-call-me-Pepper (and seriously, did Tony miss a memo on alliterative nicknames?) seems smitten too, though not with him. Rhodey's no longer active duty, but old habits of discretion die hard, so she has no way of knowing when she strikes up a flirtation with the airman that he and her boss are more than just business partners. Rhodey's flustered, and Pepper's embarrassed, but Tony's always had a big heart, and he loves nothing quite so much as making the people he cares about happy. He can see the way his honeybear smiles when she's around, and it's obvious how much she lights up with him, and he's a genius, right, but he doesn't need to be to see that they'd work. So he tells them to go for it, as long as Pepper doesn't mind sharing and Rhodey doesn't mind being shared, and they look at him like he's grown a second head because what they want is all of them together.

They totally work.

2 - IM1, BUT HAPPIER?

They meet when Lt. Rhodes is assigned the Air Force liason to Stark Industries. Warned in advance, Rhodey was expecting brash, crass, and totally out of control, but what he found in Stark, Jr. was someone with a passion for machines and an excitement for invention unlike anyone he's ever met. When they realize they'd been on campus at the same time, Tony (“please, Mr. Stark was my father”) declares them the Brass Rat Pack, which makes him roll his eyes, but doesn't make a Sammy Davis, Jr. joke, which bumps him up a couple more points in Rhodey's estimation.

3 - IM2 BUT WITH SOME DAMN COMMUNICATION

Rhodey was always going to get a suit. Tony's best friend, the best pilot he knows, AND one of the few people in military he actually still trusts? Of course. He offered Pepper one too, but he seemed to expect her to turn him down, because then he offered her the position of CEO. Insisted, really.

So Pepper becomes the head of Stark Industries while Tony and Rhodey become Iron Man and War Machine. The military brass doesn't love having one of those suits and all of their secrets in the hands and head, respectively, of such an unpredictable element, but knowing that Colonel Rhodes is liasing most of his activities goes a long way toward quieting the grumbles. The men's joint testimony on just how far off any imitators, foreign or domestic, are from duplicating the technology convinces Congress that Team Iron Man's op-sec, while unorthodox, is effective.

Rhodey takes some well deserved R&R and joins Tony and Pepper in Monaco. It's new still, this thing between them all, but it's good.

4 - POST-IM2

AVENGERS FAM DAMMIT

Aliens invade New York, and Rhodey is so glad he stole that damn suit.

5 - POST-IM3

IN WHICH WE AVOID CIVIL WAR

RESCUE HAPPENS

Rogers and Romanoff bring down SHIELD, and Pepper is horrified to realize how close she came to being murdered by the state. After Killian, after Extremis, she knows she could be considered a threat, but seeing her name, and Tony's, and Rhodey's, on the kill list in the data dump is chilling.

+1 - After Everyone Lives

"Meguna Petunia Stark-Potts-Rhodes, out of the lab and inside for dinner!"

Morgan laughed. "Not my name, Dad - and anyway, wouldn't it be Potts-Rhodes-Stark, alphabetically?"

"You know, you'd think that, but your pops actually called dibs on the anchor leg years ago…"

"A relay's got four legs, Dad."

"What did I ever do to deserve a jock for a daughter? Tell you what, find us a Q who doesn't run screaming, and we'll consider it."

"What are we considering, Tony?"

"Morgan thinks our polycule needs to be a quadrilateral, apparently, and I'm blaming the track team. I've told her we're only considering candidates with Q last names; we're so close to a straight."

"Tony, you've never been close to straight in your life."

Mom gestures at the two bickering and pleads, "Just not another guy, please, darling, I'm outnumbered already."

"I dunno, you usually like tha-"

"Tony!" Mom and Pops shoot him identical stern looks.

Family. She wouldn't want it any other way.

If anyone made it this far, thanks for reading! @allofthefeelings I'm sorry the full fic never made its way out of my brain, but thank you for the prompt anyway! And thanks again to the Good Intentions WIP Fest!

#good intentions wipfest #bring out your dead #tony/rhodey/pepper #tony stark #james rhodes #pepper potts #westie writes

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otemporanerys · 3 years

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Writing Tag Game

Tagged by @dulcidyne - thanks!!

How many works do you have on AO3?

Only 6: with the big caveat that I wrote a LOT on Livejournal and FF.net in the Before Times (like, until 2011, lol).

What’s your total AO3 word count?

166,360

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

(All Mass Effect, all Shakarian)

1. Playing the Long Game (Childhood friends AU)

2. Mixing Business with Pleasure (Shep and Garrus go undercover and bonk)

3. First Contact Protocol (First Contact War)

4. Rookies (What if/alternate take on a PTLG scene, virginity loss smut)

5. Turning Us Into Fire (current WIP, mercenary AU/mutual pining hell)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I really try to! It’s always great when people go out of their way to provide feedback and encouragement and I feel like it’s only fair for me to acknowledge how much that means. The only time I sometimes don’t respond to every comment is when a lot come in at once from one person, but then I usually just consolidate what I’d say into one response.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Playing the Long Game nearly had a gut-wrenching bittersweet ending (which is currently the end of chapter 6), but then I decided there needed to be an epilogue. It’s still much more of an “earn your happy ending” type of scenario than anything else I’ve written recently. I’d have to go back to the old LJ archives to see what I wrote before, but I’ve always been a fan of a downer ending.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Mixing Business with Pleasure - I really struggle with the typical “I love you” thing but for that one it just worked out.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I wrote a couple of drabble crossovers on Livejournal. My main fandom was How I Met Your Mother back then and I think I wrote a Doctor Horrible crossover. But only very short stuff, and more on the crack-y side of things.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I remember when I was a bb fan writing on ff.net and one of my OCs ended up on a Livejournal thing making fun of Mary Sues. I mean, she was, but I was young and people were mean. Don’t do this, people!

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do, but I’ve never really felt that good at it? I cut my teeth on RPing, so I felt like I always had someone else to carry the heavy lifting. I never feel like I quite get the balance right between describing the physical acts and getting the emotional connection down. I was very proud when I wrote MBWP because I put a lot of effort into making the sex hot and people really responded well to it.

As to what kind, not sure what that means. I’ve never been a big slash person (if there’s no ladies I’m not interested). I guess I prefer porn with feelings type stuff. Nothing more kinky than a bit of BDSM.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yeah, I had a good group of friends I co-wrote with back in the HIMYM days. Still in touch with a lot of them!

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

In terms of what I’ve written: Shakarian is obviously my current obsession; I had a lot of ships for HIMYM, but mainly Barney/Robin; before that was Merlin, which I also had a lot of ships for but largely Gwen/Morgana. In terms of pairings that I love but have never written about, Catra/Adora from the new She-Ra and Jess/Nick from New Girl are great. (Lol, can you tell I have a thing for friends/idiots to lovers?)

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I don’t really - or, at least not any that I have a desire to finish.

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue/banter is the big one. Sometimes when I’m really struggling on a scene I write only the dialogue and fill in the rest later. I’m also proud of a couple of my metaphors. I always worry about pacing, but people have mentioned it to me as something they like.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I feel very insecure about plot and intrigue - I always worry that I’m missing something obvious that makes my plots fall apart. I also notice I can be kind of repetitive in my prose. Part of my editing process is ctrl+f’ing my specific fallback phrases.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Almost always utter cringe, sorry.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I remember writing self-insert Animorphs fic in notebooks and thinking I’d invented the concept!

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

One of the really nice things about coming back to fic as an adult is that I think my writing has improved immensely: not just in terms of prose but in terms of emotional maturity. PTLG and the sequel is all about growing up and how your relationships change - and sometimes you hurt each other and sometimes you disagree, but for someone who really matters to you you can learn to be honest. I think MBWP is much more successful on its own terms, and there’s things I’d change about PTLG if I was starting again, but I really liked that aspect of it.

Tagging: @misseffect and anyone else who sees this and wants to play!

#writing chat #fan fic

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