Look, Stiles knows he’s not really part of the pack, but really? He wishes the others aside from Scott and Allison would stay a little more up to date on what’s going on his life beyond how it affects them.
8 days ago
"I weep for my party."
Nate had to read the text again just to make sure he was seeing that right.
But no, his initial assessment was correct: Brad Colbert was texting him after thirteen years of silence. Or near enough to count, anyway. The odd update email to the whole group couldn't be considered anything other than polite distance, one Nate had also maintained. It had seemed...easier.
19 days ago
By the eighth time John Sheppard married Rodney McKay, they were old pros at the wedding thing, having weathered not only an Ouishan blood wedding, but also a twelve-hour Avalonian handfasting, a Malanese necklace exchange, and a Thurtu joining ceremony that invoked a fire god and featured seven kinds of cake.
4 weeks ago
"Rodney's my desert island guy," he says finally, because it's the simplest, truest thing he can say: if there's one person he gets to keep with him, he chooses McKay. It's as simple as that.
4 weeks ago
"Don't shoot!" Rodney yelled, leaping up, onto his knees, and waving his hands, afraid that Sheppard was going to blow his alter-ego to blazes. "He's me! I think!"
4 weeks ago
Caroll, Franklin R. Atlantis Revisited. New York and London, Routledge, 2011.
Chapman, Denise. Several Kinds of Genius: The Life of Rodney McKay. NY: Harper Perennial, 2015.
Croft, Rosalind. City of Spires: A Memoir. Toronto: The Mercury Press, 2009.
Dugan, Paul. A Political History of Atlantis. Oxford: OUP, 2012.
4 weeks ago
One would think that having the name of one's soulmate appear on one's wrist on one's sixteenth birthday would make matrimony much less complicated. It mostly does not. And not at all for Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourne.
(A deconstruction of the "soulmate identifying mark" trope, using "Pride and Prejudice." Trigger warnings in the tags.)
4 weeks ago
He was an intelligent, intuitive pet, but he wasn’t going to start sniffing out ZPMs or hidden Ancient weaponry or detailed instructions on how to kill a Wraith with a common household item. A pen, for instance.
5 weeks ago
James and Miranda rescue Thomas from Bethlem. This was supposed to solve all their problems.
As it turns out, things are more complicated than that.
6 weeks ago
Every time Victor prodded his side, Yuuri would just look at Victor with the tiniest, cruelest tip of a smile on the corner of his mouth. It was awful. It took all of Victor’s self-control not to launch himself forward and kiss that smile until it was nice again.
But Victor hadn’t kissed Yuuri yet. It was a line he was afraid to cross.
6 weeks ago
Single Use Weapon is a fic I always return to, it's so very much my perfect ending for Kings, so I'd love to see a timestamp for it set after Jack takes his place as David's advisor.
[Set after 'Single Use Weapon' http://archiveofourown.org/works/8049262]
6 weeks ago
Derek has said two fucking words to him after almost eight years, and Stiles can't stop obsessing about it.
Stiles is trying to cope with the surprise arrival of a daughter he never knew about, and Derek Hale insinuating himself into his life again isn't helping. Honestly.
6 weeks ago
And there's that ache, and there's that sweetness, and lord, James really would swear in the eyes of God that he cannot bear to live without him, wouldn't he?
Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder: a triptych.
7 weeks ago
James thinks of Thomas. He thinks: Thomas ought to know about this. Thomas would be interested in that. Thomas would enjoy this. Thomas would smile were he to hear about that. Thomas would appreciate the taste of this. Thomas would look well in that.
On occasion, however, James tries not to think of Thomas. One such occasion is when James is fucking Thomas' wife.
He is not altogether successful.
7 weeks ago
“Tell me about yourself, Lieutenant,” Miranda says, smiling at him over a spoonful of soup. “Thomas says your father was a carpenter. Are you from London?”
Thomas half expects James’s shoulders to stiffen, his chin to jut out; he has a sneaking suspicion that if he had asked the same question, that’s exactly how James would’ve reacted. Instead, though he still holds himself so warily, he answers, easily enough, “A carpenter’s mate, ma'am.”
“Is there a difference?” Miranda asks, genuine, truly wanting to know.
7 weeks ago
“Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.” -Marcus Aurelius
Miranda and Thomas Hamilton, the early years, and the man who eventually completes them.
7 weeks ago
When they flee London, none of them realize that Miranda is pregnant, and when she realizes, she will stop at nothing to have her family back.
[Part 1 of 'Four For a Boy Verse' https://archiveofourown.org/series/630710]
7 weeks ago
Agamemnon, Hennessey thinks, was a lucky bastard.
After all - he never had to apologize to Iphigenia.
[Part 2 of 'Four For a Boy Verse' https://archiveofourown.org/series/630710]
7 weeks ago
Victor had wanted to be the Japanese competitor's dance partner, and he could because he didn't have one. Victor had also wanted to be Katsuki Yuuri's coach, and he could because Katsuki didn't have one of those either.
Now Victor wanted to be Yuuri's boyfriend- except Yuuri already seemed to have one of those.
Basically, Victor thinks Phichit is Yuuri's boyfriend and is ridiculously jealous.
7 weeks ago
Theomedes wakes from his long illness to find that one of his sons is dead, the other has become a man, and some cheeky Veretian upstart has taken up residence in his palace. Post Kings Rising AU.
So his new partner was surprisingly not completely un-attractive, for a human. Gavin Hayes had impressive aptitude scores, and a friendly smile, and eyes sharp as winter currents, taking in the station and remembering names and details with an ease that belied his causal charm. All things that transcended species boundaries and general integumentary inadequacies.
It didn’t mean Sezin found him sexy.
"What was it like?" Yuuri asks. The scrape of his skates is slow and gentle on the ice, and Viktor looks up to watch him come near. He stops inches away, eyes fixed on the stands. "To be in front of thousands of people? To hear them shouting your name?"
Viktor looks at him, this beautiful man he's somehow found on the other side of the world in a town that doesn't exist, and says, "It was marvelous."
Viktor Nikiforov has neglected life and love for over seventy years. Fighting a losing battle with illness, he takes up residence in what is known as a twilight town. In a city on the sea built of dreams and memories, he meets another dying man.
Viktor tries wooing Yuuri. Yuuri will not be wooed. And then there's the small matter of Viktor being a Russian master criminal art thief extraordinaire, Yuuri being the Interpol agent assigned to handle him, and the imminent theft of a hundred million dollar painting.
He’s a slim, too-pretty boy of twenty, and the men of this particular underworld talk about him as though he’s an open flame, a sparking engine near a pool of gasoline: volatile, and not to be handled. Kid’s got balls of sheer fucking steel, Damen’s contact said.
Which must be true, because having just lost a race against Damen for pink slips, Laurent looks him straight in the eye and says, “Double or nothing?” in a voice like vodka poured straight from the freezer.
"Double or nothing," said Webster abruptly.
"How exactly do you mean to double 'everything I had?'" said Ash. He meant it to come out level, but there was a quaver in his voice.
"One more trick," Webster said. "Play, and win or lose you will walk away with your fortune." Ash stared at him. Webster made an impatient gesture. "I don't want or need your money. Or your house. Or your coat and shirt, come to that."
It was an offer of princely generosity. Ash's mouth was dry. "And what would you have from me?" he asked.
Something flared in Webster's cool expression for a moment, like a shark flashing a fin in still waters. "A month," he said.
“Missing your boy, Little Red?” Rachel Sunborn asked.
“No,” Elliot said. He was not. He was independent and self-assured and didn’t care if all his friends were off at a tournament without him, throwing things at people for a week for absolutely no good reason and probably getting themselves killed.
Or: Five times someone suggested Elliot or Luke sleep with someone else, and one time they didn’t need to.
Laurence and Temeraire have been living with Tharkay for a scant two weeks when Laurence sends Granby a letter that essentially boils down to hi John how did you know you're gay also plz help I am in trouble.
“I have been thinking,” Laurent says, “About your plans to abolish slavery.”
Five weeks in Ios. Five weeks Laurent has, to sow the seeds of their shared kingdom.
He begins with the slavery issue.
The Katsuki-Nikiforov family as it grows, one pregnancy test and one prayer and one airport bathroom quickie and one kiss and one faulty vasectomy and one baby at a time.
Yuuri wakes up in Victor’s room the night after the Sochi Grand Prix Final banquet. Did they sleep together? No. Instead, last night, Drunk Yuuri taunted Victor that he hadn’t earned the right to get in his pants…and spelled out exactly what Victor would have to do to get there.
Now, Victor intends to do everything on that list…
“The conversation,” Victor says, “went something like this. You said I wasn’t getting in your pants that easily.”
Victor says this in a normal tone of voice. Anyone could hear him. Yuuri looks around, but if anyone is paying attention, they’re pretending not to.
“Naturally, I asked what I would have to do to get in your pants.”
“Ah.” Yuuri blushes. “How embarrassing. What do you mean, naturally? Why would you ask that?”
Victor tilts his head. “Because I want to get in your pants. I thought that much was obvious by now.”
Victor and Yuuri enjoy the summer festival in Hasetsu. Where Yuuri can't resist the treats of the festival, Victor gives in entirely to his own favourite indulgence.
(Fill for a kink meme prompt that requested 40-ish Victor/Canon Age Yuuri.)
Victor finds Yuuri much later in his life - he falls in love just the same.
Draco Malfoy isn't the average first choice for a hero sent back in time to save the world. Narcissa Malfoy, slightly surprised to see the grown man her eleven-year-old son could be, isn't the average first choice for his Horcrux-hunting partner either. Honestly, they're supposed to be on the other side in all this business.
But it cannot be denied that they're very efficient, especially given their quest is relegated to Narcissa's free time and Draco is relegated to a guest wing bedroom so his father and younger self don't interfere. Nor can it be denied that if the Dark Lord isn't going to show them loyalty and victory, then... well... Family First, after all.
He's sitting in a car with all of his belongings in the back seat and his hands wrapped around the steering wheel, admitting to himself that a stupid, dizzy firework of a one-night-stand with a man he'd barely known is one of the only bright memories he has right now.
[In which Enjolras and Grantaire make some music, make some terrible decisions, and make a habit out of doing everything in the wrong order.]
In the economy of chess, victory is not about numbers, but about space. You don't lose when you have the lowest number of pieces. You lose when you have nowhere left to run.
Laurent's thoughts, from Captive Prince to Kings Rising.
Stiles hasn't seen or heard from Derek in ten years. It's a bit of a surprise to find out about Derek's return to Beacon Hills through Tinder.
"You're certainly fast-tracking through the ranks, Commander Shafer," said Commander Woodsinger. "Shall I bring you the maps so you can plan the protection detail for our voyage back? I do hope the bed is comfortable, by the way."
It’s just…does Viktor not get bored with doing it the same way every night? Doesn’t he want to spice things up? Is Yuuri being unreasonable? He’s pretty sure that if Viktor told him his performance in bed was unsatisfying his soul would flee his body for a more merciful plane of existence, but…Viktor is thicker-skinned than he is.
And so here they are. Viktor’s bed is wide and soft, and Yuuri is lying there with wet hair and ratty boxers while Viktor absently trails kisses over his shoulder. It’s nice. It’s soft. It’s good. Viktor’s headboard is enormous and Yuuri keeps thinking about Viktor’s wrists bound to it, black rope over white skin. Fuck. He should say something.
Yuuri Katsuki has his first and only breakup, and reacts the only way he knows how: board a starship and live out the rest of his life in outer space, millions of light years from the home planet he loves.
Suffice to say, it doesn't work.
Peter Grant is a contestant on The Great British Bake Off 2016, Thomas Nightingale is its famously stoic, poker-faced judge. The nation’s running commentary is their background soundtrack as they flirt onscreen. It’s gonna be a very long ten weeks.
“Let me see?” Carla leaned over his arm to look at his phone. “Who’s that in your wallpaper? Isn’t that the guy you were getting all those pictures of?”
Yuuri sucked in a breath, fully prepared to undergo the humiliation of having to explain who Viktor Nikiforov was and fully aware that every time he talked about Viktor, he gave people the impression that there was something definitely wrong with him.
“Who is he, a friend?” Carla nudged him in the side with her elbow. Yuuri moved away. “Your boyfriend?”
“Well—” How to explain, Yuuri thought, that he was a Viktor Nikiforov stan and that photographs of Viktor cuddling his poodle always made him smile, without looking creepy? “He’s, uh…”
“Oh my god,” Carla said. Her mouth dropped open. “You have a boyfriend. Is that why you keep turning down dates? You should have said! And here I am hitting on you like an idiot. Oh, man, James is going to die, he’s been trying to get you to have dinner with him for like two semesters, he thought he was wearing you down! Yuuri. You are such a heartbreaker.”
While Victor wanders off to rummage in the bathroom for the designated makeup towel, because of course they have those, Yuuri starts putting everything away. Mila can't imagine doing this all on her own. Foundation, setting powder, bronzer—all of this stuff. He leaves a tube of lipstick and a lip liner pencil out on the counter.
"Did you forget those?" she says when Yuuri starts closing up the train case.
"Ah," Yuuri says. "No, they're mine. I wear them sometimes. At home."
Mila says, "Can I put them on you?"
Three weeks earlier, during a Skype session with Phichit equally fuelled by Victor’s hideously expensive vodka and Yuuri’s crushing loneliness at Victor being away for more than twelve hours, Yuuri decided he was going to give Victor the best Christmas/Birthday of his life. With sex coupons.
(“This is the best idea you’ve ever had,” Phichit said.
“I,” Yuuri slurred, with all the certainty of a drunk man pawning off his actions on the victim of his sober self, “am a genius. Someone give me a Nobel Peace Prize. Homemade sex coupons will save the world.”
“Absolutely.” Phichit said thousands of miles away in a different timezone watching Yuuri make five different coupons for “whatever you want to do with my feet.” “Someone give this man yet another gold medal.” )
In the end, it was Sober Yuuri that made the terrible miscalculation of using the same adorable poodle wrapping paper for Yuri and Victor’s gifts. Presently he’s moved on from googling “how to build a time machine” to “demon pacts????? Can I make one?????”
Yuuri accidentally mixes up Victor and Yurio's gifts. It goes about as well as you'd expect.
“We live in a blue planet that circles around a ball of fire next to a moon that moves the sea, and you don’t believe in miracles?”
After an academic career at MIT and Oxford, Yuuri Katsuki eschews job offers at places like NASA and CERN to go work at the Very Large Array in what Phichit Chulanont lovingly calls The Actual Middle of Nowhere, New Mexico, monitoring radio frequencies from light-years away. He's loved the stars for as long as he can remember, and the universe feels so big sometimes that Yuuri is sure it would be a cruel mistake for humans to be all alone.
Enter the latest scientist to join the staff of the VLA, enigmatic Russian genius Victor Nikiforov, around whom Yuuri’s entire universe seems to bend to make room, and the strange, recurring dreams Yuuri keeps having, where something like love carries him across the stars.
Does love travel faster than light? Do souls?
“The cosmos is within us. We are made of star-stuff. We are a way for the universe to know itself.”
It’s an embarrassing cliché, I know, but there was an actual basket, made of what looked to be actual wicker, actually sitting there. It was oval and large and had spaces for handholds on either end; for a minute, I thought it was full of laundry, and my mind spun an image of a ghost laundress. Then the small hand emerged from the basket, waved around for a minute, and smacked down again.
In one universe, Viktor asks Yuuri to sleep with him on his first night in Hasetsu and gets rejected.
In another, he doesn't. This happens instead.
"Look, it's a shitty world for Omegas, kid. I'm not going to pretend it's not. You can either make the best of it or--" she waves her hand, beer sloshing in the bottle "--give up on it. That's the one thing you have a choice in."
Yuuri realizes that he'll sabotage Victor's career if he asks him to coach and compete at the same time. This leads to a standoff of ultimatums over who will skate and who won't.
A standoff that ends with Victor in St Petersburg and Yuuri half a world away.
In which Yuuri needs to learn to listen and Victor needs to learn to speak.
There’s only one downside to being in an established relationship with Yuuri Katsuki - given his incredible stamina, it’s impossible to have a quickie with him.
Or so Victor thought, until…
Five times Katsuki Yuuri did something to make Viktor Nikiforov fall a little more in love, and one time Viktor returned the favor.
(With art by the lovely Riki!)
"It's almost like a marriage proposal," Viktoria says, and the thing is—the thing is, if Viktoria wanted it to be, Yuri would make it one. If Viktoria had asked, "Is that a marriage proposal?" Yuri would have unhesitatingly said yes. She would have lowered herself onto a knee before Viktoria in Fukuoka Airport, the officially certified least romantic place in the world, and said Viktoria Konstantinovna Nikiforova, please—please—
(Yuri doesn't know if Viktoria will stay. She wants her to. She wants her to want to. But she doesn't want to be the only thing holding Viktoria here. Life for Yuri Katsuki is, as always, Hard.)
“Do you wish it was me, Yuuri? Using that toy on you?”
“You are jealous,” Yuuri says grinning down at him.
“I’m jealous of a toy,” Viktor agrees, sounding distraught. “How you look right now — I like being the one to make you look like that.”
“You are,” Yuuri assures him. “I have you right where I want you, Vitya.”
“I could be the one filling you up. Yuuri,” Viktor says, as Yuuri turns the vibration up another level and keens. “Yuuri, do you fantasize about me inside you?”
Yuuri ties Viktor up and wants him to watch.
Five times Laurent allowed Damen to share his heat with him (and one time he was absolutely adamant that that wasn’t going to happen ever again).
Part of The Veretian Flytrap: https://archiveofourown.org/series/701433
Viktor looks up finally and time slows for a minute, the breath leaving his body as his eyes land on Yuuri. He’s wearing Viktor’s Team Russia jacket, the too-long sleeves pushed up to his elbows, the front hanging open and unzipped over his bare torso. Underneath that, he has on a pair of tight athletic shorts that come partway down his thighs, clinging to the muscle, not hiding anything. And—
He’s wearing a pair of high heels, black stilettos with pointy toes and red soles, and Viktor stares as Yuuri crosses into the kitchen, walking fluidly, gracefully, as though he wears these shoes every day of his life.
Yuuri surprises Viktor.
Damianos bows and then says, “Auguste!” before pulling Auguste into a back-slapping hug. He kisses Céleste’s hand next. When he gets to Laurent he gives a short bow, eyes not leaving Laurent’s face. “Laurent,” he says. His accent is perfect.
“No hug for me?” Laurent says.
Damianos takes his hand and pulls him forward. There’s no back-slapping, and it’s just Laurent’s imagination that Damianos holds on for a bit longer than appropriate.
When he steps back, Laurent gestures to Justine. “My fiancée, Justine of Patras.”
She courtesies. Damianos kisses her hand as well.
The morning after the banquet, Yuuri wakes up to a hangover, a few fuzzy memories of the previous night and the realization that he sent some guy dickpics last night...and had gotten one back.
Cyrillic guy seemed nice. Friendly. Somebody he might have wanted to hang out with, if things had been different.
Yuuri hoped he hadn't pretended the guy was Victor Nikiforov or something stupid like that. When he got that drunk, all bets were off.
It’s Phichit’s fault.
It’s always Phichit’s fault.
(Or: A friendship told through three hamsters, a rice cooker, and the resurrected trade-and-barter system.)
Stiles' work life is pretty great, from the nice cubicle he sits in, the friends he gets to have as coworkers, and all the free snacks he gets to eat during meetings. And then financial consultant Peter Hale shows up.
DS Peter Grant, seconded to Organised Crime, is sent to keep an eye on two persons of interest. Questions are asked. Answers are mostly ignored.
The remix: after The Spoils, where he and Yuuri hook up at the Sochi banquet, Chris doesn't go back to his room alone.
He goes to Victor's room instead.
Zach turns forty and his world changes. Or, maybe, it circles back to where it was always meant to be.
Zach spots him as soon as he steps in the cafe; sitting with his back to the wall, a mug of coffee that Zach knows has been refilled at least twice by the way Chris’ leg is slightly jittery, and a moleskine on the table, hand moving in a steady rhythm as he scribbles something down.
“Hi,” Zach says once he’s by the table, casting a shadow over Chris. He tries not to think about the symbolism in that.
And now here Thomas is, in Peter and Beverley's house more nights than not, with a change of clothes he keeps in the dresser, on the regular rota for picking and dropping Laura off when needed, his own spot on their couch and his own bed in their home and it's wonderful, Thomas wouldn't give it up for anything, but--it's certainly unusual.
(Companion fic to sixthlight's excellent places to be, written from Nightingale's POV.)
Sixteen-year-old Chihoko Sato is at Four Continents almost by accident, so the fact that Victor Nikiforov is headed straight towards her is probably also an accident, right?
Victor has a thing for every new bit of Yuuri he sees.
(It’s odd, when he thinks about it, how awkward he has historically been in everyday life in contrast with the way stepping onto the ice feels like fitting into a disguise, an alternate persona where he’s confident, alluring, captivating. Yuuri used to feel so invisible; Victor has made him blossom into someone present.)
In 1991, the Soviet Union collapses. In 1989, the Berlin wall falls. In 1987, Viktor Nikiforov, iconic figure skater and darling of the USSR, defects to the United States. In 1986, Yuuri Katsuki falls in love.
“... Did you know you still give me boners?” Yuri asks seriously. Otabek is startled into an incredulous snort. “Don’t laugh, you asshole! It’s tragic and inconvenient and probably going to last until we’re old and can’t get it up anymore.”
“I’m touched,” Otabek replies tonelessly. “You have such a way with words.”
“Yeah, I know.” Yuri grins, all sharp teeth. “Feel free to swoon a little closer into my arms. And on top of my crotch?”
“Fuck off.” Yuri can hear Otabek’s grudging smile, even with his back turned.
favourites ‧ otps ‧ • • • ‧ fandoms ‧ ships ‧ genres ‧ au types ‧ tropes ‧ ratings ‧ lengths ‧ websites ‧ writers ‧ collections ‧ • • ‧ hp ‧ merlin ‧ star trek ‧ sga ‧ inception ‧ xmfc ‧ avengers ‧ suits ‧ teen wolf ‧ yoi