Title: Falling Quickly Fandom: The Last Man on Earth Rating: M I think Characters: Phil Tandy Miller, Erica Dundee, Mike Miller (most of the others also show up, but they’re the main ones) Pairings: Erica/Gail, Erica/Mike, Erica/OFC, Tandy/Brent Junkins, Tandy/Carol Warnings: Unsupportive families, homophobic language, homophobia/biphobia in general Notes: I love Mike to pieces, but honestly this drags the hell out of him I think
Summary: Tandy, Erica, a conversation, and everything that got them to that point.
Title: Godforsaken [title subject to change, as usual, but I actually quite like this one] Fandom: MCU (Guardians of the Galaxy 2 & Thor: Ragnarok) Rating: uh, mature? NSFW? There is sex. Characters: Aleta Ogord, Valkyrie (Brunnhilde), Stakar Ogord, a few other important people mentioned here and there Pairings: Aleta/Valkyrie, Aleta/Stakar (background) Notes: This is set after Valkyrie exiled herself to Saakar, but before the events of Thor Ragnarok and before any of the Guardians of the Galaxy movies. This is a fairly young Aleta.
Also, I’ve only seen Thor Ragnarok once, so I really hope I haven’t gotten anything crucially wrong, especially re: Valkyrie.
Summary: A case of mistaken identity, a one-night-stand gone horribly wrong, and absolutely no sense of a resolution whatsoever.
HOORAY this is finally done! (you might have seen me accidentally post a bit of it like… FOUR MONTHS ago?) It is a missing scene from GOTG2, essentially. One I badly wanted to see, so I wrote it.
Title: What’s Left of You Fandom: Guardians of the Galaxy Rating: PG13 maybe, but only because of all the swearing Characters: Rocket, Kraglin, Stakar Ogord, Aleta Ogord Pairings: Kragdu, if you squint (you won’t have to squint very much) Summary: Rocket and Kraglin send word to Yondu’s old Ravager buddies.
I wonder… has anybody approached the Peter & Yondu angst/feels by making an AU where Yondu was too late to save Peter in Vol. 1?
If no-one else takes it, I reckon I could give that a try
Lucky
*
“Boy,” Yondu snarled. “Boy! Get the fuck up!”
He slapped the face of the man on the floor. Nothing happened. Peter didn’t get up.
“He’s dead, Udonta,” the woman who had entered the ship with him snapped. “If you lay your hands on him one more time I will kill you and any man who tries to stop me.”
“Peter can’t die, you idiot girl. I know what his father is!”
Kraglin, standing at the front of the gaggle of Ravagers, winced a bit at that. “Maybe we oughta go drop him off where we was meant to drop him off twenty years ago.”
“We’re not doing that! You fucking insane, Kraglin? You know what his father is too.”
The woman – Gamora – opened her mouth to speak. Horuz, who was holding her back, spoke over her. “What’d you care, Captain? You said you were gonna kill him anyhow.”
Yondu whistled and the Yaka arrow came out of its holster. It hovered in the air over Peter’s body, looking for all the world like it was some sort of spirit protecting him.
“Anyone wanna question the way things are run around here, you know what you up against.”
There were some mutinous mutterings which Yondu heard and fully understood, but he didn’t care. Peter didn’t look dead. Apart from the ice on his face, he looked like he could have been just sleeping.
“There’s no life signs, Captain.” Kraglin was holding some little medical device. “Not one.”
Yondu looked at Gamora, partly so that he wouldn’t have to look at Peter. This was her fault, the sentimental sanctimonious witch, and he wanted nothing more than to kill her. But he couldn’t bring himself to. It would bring more trouble than it was worth… and it would render Peter’s sacrifice pointless.
“Idiot fucking boy!” He had no idea who or what he was actually talking to. “Idiot fucking girl,” he said to Gamora.
“Now isn’t the time to be grieving,” Gamora said. She looked like she was only just holding it together, but her voice didn’t wobble. “There are bigger things-”
Yondu whistled and the arrow came to a stop in front of her face. She barely flinched.
“One more word out of you and it goes through your brain,” he said. “And ta the rest of ya, fuck off and go do what I pay you for.”
More angry, whispered swear words.
“Tullk, Kraglin, get this up-herself green asshole outta my sight. Put her in the brig or something.” A pause. “What’re you all standing the fuck around for? Go!”
They went. All the Ravagers were smart enough to not glare at their captain directly, just, but Yondu still felt the contempt radiating off some of them. He would happily have killed them there and then if it wouldn’t have made things even worse.
“Let me say goodbye to him,” Gamora demanded as she was dragged out. She had apparently realized that the arrow-through-the-brain threat had been an empty one. “He saved my life.”
“An’ you’ll have plenty of time to contemplate that over the next coupla days, while we work out what to do with you.”
“Let – me – say – goodbye – to – him.” Her teeth were bared. It served to remind Yondu that she was even more of a prolific killer than he was.
Only he, Tullk, Kraglin, Gamora and the corpse were left in the room. “Fine. You got five seconds. And if you try anything just remember, you can’t outrun the arrow. Nothin’ can.”
Gamora shook off, with dignity, the hands that were holding her arms behind her back. She walked to Peter’s body, knelt down, whispered something in his ear, and stood back up again.
“You remember that I showed you that kindness, girl,” Yondu said, as Tullk and Kraglin escorted her out. She spat in his face, so quietly that the others didn’t even notice, as she passed him. He did nothing.
A part of him had hoped Peter might suddenly sit up and laugh once the room was empty, but he didn’t. With fury and grief coursing through his veins, he picked up the body and carried it to the engine room. With every step, it hurt more.
*
“Folks ain’t gonna be happy that you’re giving him a Ravager funeral, Captain,” Kraglin said.
“You keep talking, Kraglin, and you’re goin’ into the flames after him, and it won’t be no funeral.”
“S’not an insult, Captain! I swear. I’m trying ta warn ya.”
Peter’s funeral pyre had all Yondu’s console toys on it, and the Walkman, obviously. Peter wouldn’t have wanted to go anywhere without his mother’s last gift to him by his side. The flames were licking at it and turning it black and making the room smell like chemicals. Like death, too.
“We picked up some of Peter’s buddies,” Kraglin said. “They came after him, trying to save him from… you, I guess. An angry green guy and an angry tree and a really, really angry rat thing. All the fight kinda went outta them once they learned he was dead.”
“Did you put ‘em in the brig with the girl?”
“Yeah. They won’t shut up though. They keep yelling about that fucking orb.”
“S’all that girl’s fucking fault…” But it wasn’t, of course. It was all Peter’s fault, for being good and noble and stupid and far, far more than Yondu had ever deserved. “We’ll deal with ‘em later.”
“Yeah.”
Both of them stared at the fire and at the trail of ashes visible from the window. Yondu wondered what Gamora had whispered into Peter’s ear.
Kraglin put his hand on Yondu’s shoulder, which made him jump. “I’ll leave you alone, Captain,” he said. “Just watch your back, ya know?”
“Not one of them assholes has the balls to go up against me, not while the arrow’s still flying. Just go, Kraglin.”
Kraglin left. The door to the engine room slid shut with a clunk, and Yondu was left to watch Peter’s body burn. Terrible things were going to happen soon, he was fairly sure of it. He was surrounded by enemies, and Peter’s friends would probably be out of their cell soon enough if they’d been smart enough to make it so far already, and that whole orb situation sure as hell wasn’t looking exactly promising either…
“Sorry, boy. Hope wherever you are now’s better than here.”
It was a shitty eulogy. Once again, Peter had deserved better, but Yondu had run out of words and out of energy. He slumped down next to the blazing engines, so close he could almost feel the fire on his skin, and took the arrow from its holster again. It had been his last connection to his home planet as much as the Walkman had been Peter’s. But it didn’t really matter anymore.
He snapped it in two with his bare hands, and threw it into the fire. Within seconds it was gone, its ashes merging with Peter’s and falling out into the darkness. Yondu watched the patterns forming in the stars, longing to see some sort of sign, in accordance with Ravager tradition, that Peter was still in some way there.
But it was alright. He’d gotten lucky. They’d be coming for him soon enough.
What follows here is not a nice story (although we know how it ends, luckily) but I sort of wanted to have a shot at telling it.
Title: Smile Fandom: Guardians of the Galaxy Characters: Mantis, Ego Summary: Mantis’s life under Ego. Rating: Um. PG13? It’s not graphic, it’s just… unsettling. Warnings: Well… this is a story about abuse, and its effects. So there’s gaslighting, and physical violence, and trauma, and… slavery, essentially. Mantis is a slave, even if she doesn’t know it. Plus a sort of vague, menacing misogyny in the background. Also, y’know, it’s partly about Ego, possibly the most casually evil creature the MCU has conjured up.
So, Guardians of the Galaxy 2 kind of maybe owns my soul a little bit now? Here’s a fanfic filling in some blanks.
Title: Goodnight Fandom: Guardians of the Galaxy Rating: PG13 maybe? There’s nothing in here worse than in the movie Summary:
“And Darth Vader… I suppose he can’t stand the idea of a world where people like him and the Emperor live and people like Luke Skywalker die. So he picks up the Emperor and kills him, so that Luke can survive, even though it kills him too. And all these little teddy bear things that live on the moon below the Emperor’s Death Star, I forgot to mention all of that, they have a big party with fireworks and stuff.”
Peter and his family before, during and after the funeral.
I’ve only ever written two fanfics about consent. One of them is Things They Talked About In The Playground, and that goes into it in a big way, seeing as… it’s about rape culture. The other one is Rory’s Choice, written back in 2012, and that’s…I don’t know what it’s about, and I’m not sure I’m comfortable delving too deep into it.
-Okay, I lied, I do know what it’s about, in a way I just realized, but I’m really not comfortable saying it on Tumblr as it relates directly to me. Suffice it to say-
– I never worked out how to tag it properly. With all the talk at the moment about Ao3 and its ability to warn for triggers it’s just sitting there, tagged to hell with ‘Please read the author’s notes’ etc and age-locked but not really tagged tagged. Because I don’t know what it counts as. I don’t know if the sex act at its center (perpetrated, if that’s the right word, by a female to a male) would qualify as sexual assault if put before a jury, and there’s no-one you can really ask about that. I don’t think so, but –
I’m not even sure what the titular Rory’s Choice was. I think it was “I’m going to stand by this person despite their mental illness causing harm,” but –
If anyone wants to read it and tell me what they think, what tags it actually needs, I’d be really grateful. (Although it’s a Doctor Who fic, pretty much nothing about Doctor Who beyond Amy and Rory really features in the story at all. A part of me thinks I should’ve just changed the names and kept it as original fiction.)
WELL this has been in the works (even as kinda only an idea) for roughly i don’t know THREE YEARS? So I promised myself I’d post it tonight.
Title: Sherlock Holmes and the Judge of Souls Fandom: Sherlock Holmes/Les Miserables
Rating: PG13 probably (there’s nothing worse here than in either book)
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Grantaire, Grantaire’s sister, Enjolras Summary:
At the turn of the nineteenth century, Holmes and Watson are called to
France to investigate the case of a man who died in the 1832 riots.
You know what story I’d like to see from the Harry Potter universe? A story where the Wizarding World and the non-magic world actually finally collide and work together and it’s… fine. Like, not perfect, obviously, but better than before because christ look at how much each world is keeping from each other! Well-trained magic-users could well be able to end diseases of the non-magic world; non-magic scientists could work out a way to banish Dementors, to restore souls even – science can already quite literally bring people back from the dead –
Natural disasters? Powerful magic users could potentially divert hurricanes and earthquakes, or at least minimize their damage. Your fantastic beasts have escaped? Well, we can use these satellites to pinpoint and track their locations. You wanna explore space, visit Mars maybe? The combination of cutting-edge science and cutting-edge magic can help with that. There’s so much potential there!
(There would be horrible things as well of course. A magic user gone rogue would probably be able to do a lot more damage than a non-magic user, for example. Things would probably be really tricky and terrible in the early days of this alliance. But ultimately, I really do think the positive would outweigh the negative.)
I don’t think this is a story JKR is ever going to write. I’d like to write it.
DAY 9 OF THE ALLIANCE
“I’ve got tomorrow’s Muggle papers here,” Ron said. “The non-magic papers,” he corrected himself.
“Right,” said Hermione. She hadn’t slept properly in several days, and it showed. “Just put them anywhere on the desk, Ron.”
Ron added them to the pile of stuff. Hermione took a drink of something Ron didn’t recognise – was it a Muggle concoction? It looked disgusting – and sighed. The curtains were still drawn, because there were still cameras and photographers lined up on the lawn.
“Please get some sleep,” he told his wife.
“Let’s look at the papers first,” said Hermione.
She placed a copy of The Times next to a copy of The Daily Prophet. One of them was in colour, and the other one was in movement.
“Gifs,” said Rose. She still hadn’t gone to bed.
“What?” said her mother.
“That’s what the Muggles call moving pictures. Gifs. Did you know that? I didn’t know that.”
“Another bit of bloody lingo,” grumbled Ron.
“Prime Minister seeks list of wizard ‘undesirables’“ Hermione read from the front page of The Times.
“No-one’s been referred to as ‘undesirable’ in years!” Ron said. Hermione shushed him.
“Wizarding Pinkstone Accords meet with protests….What happens next?…Worldwide fears over magic grow…The Quibbler is full of nothing but praise, though, and suggestions for combining magic and Muggle technology…”
“Werewolves could soon be claiming YOUR benefits,” Rose read from the Daily Mail.
“And oh! The Daily Star has just uncovered the sex tape of a D-list celebrity, so nothing from them. But this isn’t looking good.” With a sudden sweep of her wand, Hermione sent all the newspapers, including the wizarding world ones, into the waste paper basket. “Rose, your brother’s been asleep for ages. You should follow suit.”
Rose nodded and made as if to get up when Ron stopped her.
“Rose, what do you think of this? This alliance? It’ll affect your generation most of all.”
“I…” Rose stared down at the piles of papers on her mother’s desk. They were magically increasing by the minute. “They don’t teach you much about Muggles at school. Not unless you take Muggle studies. And Granny Granger was dead by the time I went to Hogwarts, and Grandad was in that nursing home…”
Hermione’s lips pursed in a strange way.
“They just tell you Muggles are stupid at school,” Rose finished helplessly. “When I did Muggle Studies, none of the pureblood kids in the class believed for one second that Muggles had created a rocket and flown to the moon…” She pointed one finger at the ceiling, where the moon wasn’t. “Or that they had, like…tracking machines in space. Or organ transplants, or an Internet, or any of that stuff.”
“I didn’t believe it either when you told me,” Ron said to Hermione cheerfully. But Hermione did not look remotely cheerful. An owl was flapping at the window and the people outside were shouting at each other to take pictures of it.
“Okay. Okay. To bed now, please, Rose,” Hermione said, and Rose went. The stairs creaked as she hurried up them to the relative safety or her bedroom. As Ron let in the owl a hundred cameras seemed to go off at once. It was like being in a middle of a lightening storm.