My typist has introduced me to something called "fanfiction.net"
My, the stories written about myself in there... Some which, for some odd reason, talk about an affair that some people believe occured between myself and Miss Galinda. Dear me. Those were rather shocking. And no, for those of you whom I am sure are dying to ask, there was never any
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Comments 62
Incredibly humiliating, what some people can think up. I am just grateful I am not a very major character in Les Misérables, or else there would be many more stories, or "fanfiction."
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At once a horror and a source of endless entertainment.
I feel your pain, Elphaba. I once had the misfortune to stumble across a story about myself and the Vicomte doing some rather erotic things with citrus fruits.
I have never been more thoroughly disgusted by anything in my entire life.
Typist note: Yes, this is a real story.
*shudder*
But the Erik/Christine phic, which is very abundant, is sometimes well-written and most times indecent.
*cough*
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You and the Vicomte? With... citrus fruits?
Oh dear.
I do believe I am going to be a little ill.
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For some perverse and disgusting reason my typist is intrigued. Please do not tell me that all "phans" are like her.
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*edges away from you in case you have any citrus fruits with you*
Unfortunately, I think many of them are, if we are to use my own typist as an example.
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They are both from adultfanfiction.net, so please, do not click if you don't want to witness some very private (and, in the first fanfiction, things that are uncharacteristic of me, I swear).
Myself and that horrid wretch James Vane, together! It is horrendous. It is disgusting.
Myself and...Lord Henry. This one makes me blush, though I will admit, not in rage. The ending, however, irritated me so! I am out-of-character!
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"Lord Henry laughed aloud, "What, that wretch? Oh Dorian, she knows full well what I like to do in my spare time, and I can assure you we've had lots of fun together, shall we say, entertaining large crowds.
I simply don't know what to say to this. I have, of course, been . . . adventurous, shall we say? But this is going a bit far.
Should I ever refer to you as "my pet," you have my permission to slap me.
"ripped open Lord Henry's trousers"Now this is simply ridiculous. "Ripped open?" That would be rather difficult, and anyhow, I have never known you to ruin good clothing ( ... )
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Of course, after having said this, I will undeniably stumble across a story in which Thursday Next redeems me through the healing power of her genitalia, or in which my sister Aornis and I fornicate, or in which I have longing memories of my lost lover, or in which I am nice.
Sending such an author into Dante's Hell for a few moments should be enough to make him or her take down a story, so I'm not worried.
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