Cillabub: Hello, you've reached my fanfiction page!
Combeferre: Otherwise known as the Torture Chamber. For it is here that we are forced to do things we find totally out of character, and generally unpleasant. It seems, from what I've seen of this "fanfic", that authors tend to have us doing much the opposite than we would be inclined to do ordinarily.
Cilla: Oh, stop your moaning, already! You guys managed to survive my parodies, after all; you can survive anything. (turns back to you) Well, I have yet to post new fic on this site, so all my links are, as of the moment, off-site links. Specifically, they are links to Le Jardin du Luxembourg, where all my fic is posted, and from where I am too lazy to move it all over here. So enjoy what I have, and I'll get around to writing some more eventually. Meanwhile, you are free to send me some of your own, as long as it is rated PG-13 or below, and has nothing that I or Combeferre deem graphic or just downright disgusting. Slash is okay, as long as it is, again, not overly graphic.
Combeferre: (panicked) No, slash is emphatically not okay! Slash is...is...for lack of suitable word, evil!
Cilla: (sticks out her tongue at him) Well, that's too bad for you, 'cause I happen to like it! Besides...
Combeferre: No, there is no 'besides'! *plugs ears with fingers*
Cilla: (sighs) Okay, maybe I ought to deem what is inappropriate and what isn't...Anyway, here we go, mes amis!
My stuff:
My first serious fic, if that says anything to you...But then, isn't that how one is expected to speak of their first fic? With cruel disdain?
My work-in-progress epic concerning Enjolras, Grantaire, ancient Greece, and a curse. Already pretty long, and destined only to get longer.
This is a short Grantairean fic of mine, which was spawned simply by an extremely angsty mood. It has no plot, and hardly any characters. It fact, I wonder if it can truly be considered a fanfic. Oh well. I'll put it up just for the heck of it.
This is another pretty angsty piece, this one from the POV of my dear Combeferre...a Valentine's Day excerpt from the boy's journal. Will make infinitely more sense if you've read Mme. Daisy's story The Blood of Angry Women...
I know, I know, do I write anything but angst anymore? :-) This is an angsty death-fic, which occurs from Combeferre's point of view. It is mildly slashy, nothing to worry about, but if you're offended by that sort of thing, just don't read it, so there. :-)
I think the full title serves as good synopsis for this one: "White Christmas, or, A Sweet, Short, Sappy, Non-slashy Christmas Fic That Cilla Wrote When She was Bored on Christmas." It follows young 'Ferre and young Enjy around Paris in their first Christmas together in the big city.
My fic in the modern vein. Follow the link for a better description.
An odd AU fic that professes to somewhat parallel the Revolution of 1789. Of course, warning for Combeferre/Enjolras slash, which my Combeferre claims to be disturbed by (but which actually strangely excites him >;-D). In Diaryland format.
Another really strange fic I did for a challenge on Mad Mizfits. The story had to include a piece of red ribbon, 3 apples, a chair, a gun, an envelope, and, most importantly, Combeferre and Enjolras. Turns out only Enjy & 'Ferre got to make more than a cameo...
Ah, my first Les Mis parody. A combination of Les Mis and Fiddler on the Roof (well, duh!) Intended as humor, and definately not to be taken seriously in the least. Combeferre thinks there's nothing funny about torturing Mizzies. I beg to differ.
My second parody, something of a companion piece to the first. Les Mis/Scarlet Pimpernel, naturally. Warning: Some things won't make sense unless you read "Le Fiddler" first. Most things will.
Third parody in the "series", if you will...a Les Mis/West Side Story crossover. Some parts, again, won't make much sense without reading the two earlier ones first. This one is actually an on-site link! Wow!!
Other people's stuff:
A piece by Lydia, adapted from the Gettysburg Address to fit our boys. :-) In honor of June 6.
Cilla: Don't any of you even dare to steal material off this page, because, seriously, it is upsetting. It is all copyright of the original author, so look, but don't touch! Well, that's all the fic there is right now!
Combeferre: *shudder* God forbid that there will ever be more.
Cilla: *smiles evilly* Not likely, dear.