#None of this is canon unless I write it in a fic but I do love thought experiments

[ardafanonarch]

Hello, in fic I've come across mentions of

- the elves stopping frequently on their journey to Aman to have sex (and Orome urging them forward by creating storms?)

- elf sex being too intense for most mortals to survive

I think these come from HoME or NoME (or similar sources), but I've never seen the actual quotes. There might be other things related to elf-sex in there as well.

So I guess my question is: What else did Tolkien mention about elf sex, apart from (the already relatively well-known) LaCE?

Elf Sex Lore

There comes a time in every Tolkien fan’s journey when they come upon the Professor’s writings on Elf sex — and, since 2021, there are even more! Elf Sex Lore remains a hot topic as the fandom continues to experience the aftershocks of the spurt of new lore that came with the publication of The Nature of Middle-earth (NoMe) in 2021.

As you say Anon, before NoMe was published, the fandom’s primary resource on Elf sex was the (in)famous essay Laws and Customs Among the Eldar (LaCE), published in 1993 in Morgoth’s Ring, the tenth volume of the History of Middle-earth series. LaCE is full of juicy (or not-so-juicy) lore about Elven aging, marriage, gender roles, naming, death, and rebirth.

It is in relation to the first two that we get some details on Elf sex, such as the knowledge that “it was the act of bodily union that achieved marriage, and after which the indissoluble bond was complete.” (Laws B). We also learn that:

“…the Eldar say* that in the begetting, and still more in the bearing of children, greater share and strength of their being, in mind and in body, goes forth than in the making of mortal children. For these reasons it came to pass that the Eldar brought forth few children; and also that their generation was in their youth or earlier life, unless strange and hard fates befell them. But at whatever age they married, their children were born within a short space of years after their wedding. For with regard to generation the power and the will are not among the Eldar distinguishable. Doubtless they would retain for many ages the power of generation, if the will and desire were not satisfied; but with the exercise of the power the desire soon ceases, and the mind turns to other things. The union of love is indeed to them great delight and joy, and the ‘days of children’, as they call them, remain in their memory as the most merry in life; but they have many other powers of body and of mind which their nature urges them to fulfil.” The History of Middle-earth Vol. 10: Morgoth’s Ring, ‘The Later Quenta Silmarillion (II)’, Laws B

*Note how this paragraph is introduced: “the Eldar say”. Phrases like this signal to us that LaCE is not written from a Elvish point of view. There are indications elsewhere clearly pointing to a human author with a human audience in mind.

Translation: Elves use up a lot of energy in baby-making, including in the sex part (“begetting”) but even more in the pregnancy and birthing part (“bearing”), so they don’t have a lot of children and they do so early in life, shortly after marriage. But even if they marry later in life, Elves are still able to have babies because being able to and wanting to reproduce are the same thing for Elves. But once they’ve fulfilled the desire to make babies they’re good and turn to other things. Still, they look back on the time of baby-making as “the most merry in life”.

In most (if not all) cases, when Tolkien writes about sex he is writing about reproduction. Did Elves have sex solely for pleasure? Maybe; I cannot find anything that says they didn’t. I also can find little conceptual separation of sex and reproduction in Tolkien’s writings. Make of that what you will.

(At this point I want to reiterate a principle central to this blog: it’s about presenting what canon says; it is not about casting judgement on creations that subvert, reinterpret, or ignore canon, none of which makes a work lesser than one which adheres strictly to canon.)

So what did NoMe add to our knowledge about Elf sex? First of all, let’s make sure we all know what NoMe is.

What is The Nature of Middle-earth?

NoMe is a volume of texts by J.R.R. Tolkien collected and edited by Carl Hostetter. It is basically a supplement to the last three volumes of The History of Middle-earth (Morgoth’s Ring, The War of the Jewels, and The Peoples of Middle-earth), which cover a period from the late 1950s to his death during which Tolkien was undertaking a rather massive project of worldbuilding, working out the structures underlying his Silmarillion mythology in preparation for revising and publishing what he had written of it before ‘a sequel to The Hobbit’ (LotR) took him away from it for the better part of two decades.

Christopher Tolkien in Morgoth’s Ring called this undertaking “analytic speculation concerning [the] underlying postulates” of his world (Foreword to Morgoth’s Ring). That’s how we end up with essays like LaCE and the philosophical debate about the fates of Men and Elves in Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth.

The texts in NoMe all date to around the same time and deal with the same sorts of questions about the physics and metaphysics of the world: it contains the essay on ósanwë, for example.

The Context of the NoMe Sex Lore

The first section of NoMe, ‘Time and Ageing’, is where we get the new lore on Elf sex. As it happens, the sex lore is rather incidental to extensive ruminations two core questions:

How did Elves experience the passage of time and how did they age?

How did the population of Elves go from 144 at Awaking to a sufficiently high number (around 30 000) when they reached the shores of Beleriand on the Great Journey?

(It is not relevant to get into why 144 and why 30 000 here; suffice to say those are the numbers Tolkien wanted and he expended great imaginative and mathematical energy trying to make them work.)

A note on the textual context: Anyone who has ever engaged in worldbuilding knows how it can go. You think (for example), “Okay, I need to develop a backstory for this character’s spouse,” and before you know it you are knee-deep in invented genealogies and geographies and Eru-knows-what-else.

It’s important to bear in mind that this is what Tolkien was doing. The quotes we are about to look at (yes, very soon!) are from a collection of evolving (and unresolved) notes in various states of refinement from barely legible scribbles to carefully penned essays. I will let you decide what that means to you based on your personal definition of canon, but I wanted the textual context to be clear.

Elf Sex Is Intense

In relation to Question 1, Tolkien considers the time-scales of Elven growth, including pregnancy. In the essay under discussion, Tolkien decides that Elven pregnancy should, like human pregnancy, take about 3/4 of a year. Oh no - not that kind of year. A yên, a ‘long year’, the unit used by the Elves and to which the matter of their bodies (their hröar) is bound. Elves gestate for 108 Sun years.

I know what you’re asking: If the pregnancy lasts 108 years, then how long does the sex last?

No? No! You’re probably asking yourself why Tolkien hated Elf-women so much (don’t worry, he says there’s no pain…)! But Tolkien was interested in the first question, which he answered thus:

“On the other hand the act of procreation, being of a will and desire shared and indeed controlled by the fëa, was achieved at the speed of other conscious and wilful acts of delight or of making. It was one of the acts of chief delight, in process and in memory, in an Elvish life, but its intensity alone provided its importance, not its time or length: it could not have been endured for a great length of time, without disastrous “expense.”” (NoMe, p. 24)

An earlier version of this passage, which you may also come across in fandom, comes to a similar conclusion:

“But the act of procreation not being one of growth until the union of the seed and being under full control of the will does not take long - though it is longer and of more intense delight in Elves than in Men: too intense to be long endured.” (NoMe, pg. 27)

Translation: Pregnancy, like other aspects of physical growth, is a process of the hröa over which the fëa has no control; thus it is bound to unfold on “Elvish time”, i.e. 1 year = 144 years. But the sex leading up to it is an act of the fëa and under its control and therefore occurs at a “normal” speed. The Elves love it, too! But not because of how long it lasts, which is a regular amount of time, but because of how intense it is. In fact, it is so intense that if it were any longer they would suffer “disastrous “expense”.”

What is this “expense”? Basically, it’s referring to the usage of an Elf’s natural “vitality” — far greater than that of Men but not infinite. As far as I can tell, this passage means that having intense Elf sex for too long would have spiritual results similar to Míriel’s bearing of Fëanor, or Fëanor’s creation of the Silmarils. Too much of their spirit would be expended (used up) in the act, with possibly disastrous consequences.

These are the quotes from which, I think, originate the rumour that Elf sex was too intense for mortals to survive. As you can see, the discussion is about Elf/Elf relations. Elf sex is too intense for Elves to endure for too long. Anything about what this means for Elf/Mortal sexual relations is fan conjecture.

That’s the Elf Sex nugget from Tolkien’s considerations of Elven growth rates: Elf sex (between Elves) is intense but of a normal duration.

Elven enthusiasm for baby-making delays March

As you can imagine, more nuggets are unearthed in relation to Question 2, which boils down to Tolkien crying: “I need the Cuiviénen Elves to breed a lot and quickly!”

Initially, Tolkien developed some Elven life cycle schemes that had them taking a leisurely approach to reproduction, with each generation taking many hundreds, even thousands, of Sun years to materialise.

This scheme did not work for getting him from 144 to ~30k in the timeframe he wanted. So, he made some adjustments to the scheme with respect to the timing of Elven maturity and consequent desire to begin reproducing — and then set about getting those Elves procreating!

One of the solutions he entertained was giving the Elves opportunities to reproduce on the Great Journey. He laid all of this out in a timeline (NoME, p. 49-53) detailing where and for how long the host of Elves would pause because of the “desire to beget children” (p. 49).

Reading this timeline, it can become increasingly comical each time this desire to reproduce (i.e., have sex) halts the host. It can start to read like, “The Elves took forever to cross Middle-earth because they couldn’t stop banging!” And, in a way, that is what happened. But bear in mind the context is an attempt at solving the problem of increasing the Elven population to a number Tolkien considered satisfactory for his worldbuilding endeavours. An Elven enthusiasm for sex is there, but it’s not the whole picture.

There are several points on the timeline when Oromë hangs out with the Elves or checks in on them, and he does become increasingly concerned with their begetting-related delays. For example:

“About 2000 pairs (of available Telerin 8th gen. of 4,950) beget children in the spring 1130/80. The Chiefs and Oromë are disturbed.” (NoMe, p. 51)

(“The Chiefs” are Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë.)

And:

“Either by chance, machinations of Sauron, and/or because Oromë withdraws protection (hoping to make the Eldar less content with their new Home (Atyamar), winters are hard and the weather worsens.” (NoMe, p. 51)

The second quote is the origin of that rumour about Oromë creating storms to urge the Elves on because they were having too much sex. Is it canon? Not quite: Oromë didn’t create the storm, for one, and the emphasis is on sex for the pleasure of children more than the pleasure of sex on its own (though, as we know from the previous discussion, sexual pleasure was certainly had!). But the rumour you've heard is not without basis in Tolkien’s notes.

The First Elves Really Loved Sex

There’s one more Elf sex nugget in NoMe that I’d like to end with. While scrambling to get his Cuiviénen Elves reproducing at an adequate rate to reach his population-at-finding target, Tolkien came up with what he calls the “Quick prolific” scheme (p. 99).

“The Quendi in their first few generations before the March (or reaching Valinor) must — as is quite reasonable — be made far more eager for love and the begetting and bearing of children. *They must have larger families, at shorter intervals between births.” (p. 107)

To explain this attitude of reproductive eagerness in the first few generations of Elves, Tolkien coins the term “philoprogenitive” — they love to procreate! Procreating — not artistic and intellectual pursuits or exploration or leadership as with later generations — is their number one priority in life. So much so that “they mated almost at once with their predestined mates” (p. 54).

Not only that, but they have so many babies! In one version of the scheme, 12 children per couple in the first generation (p. 108). (This soon changes to 6 per couple. Philoprogenitive they may be, but no one gets to outdo Fëanor).

As with the highly intense Elf sex and the Great Journey delayed by procreating, this is another bit of NoMe lore with great imaginative potential. As we learn from LaCE, Elves enjoyed sex, quite a bit actually, but they enjoyed a lot of other things also, and after a period of baby-making they would usually move on from sex (though they would always remember it fondly). But the First Elves, those early generations by the shores of Cuiviénen? No such balance between sex and other pursuits. It was all about sex and procreation for them.

Of course, what we’ve been looking at are drafts and notes. While all written around the same time (late 1950s to early 1960s), none of the texts here examined were ever finalised and many of them don’t even agree with each other. Tolkien was experimenting; he was worldbuilding. And with the publication of these notes in NoMe, we in turn get some intriguing ingredients for worldbuilding of our own.

So, do as you like with the Elf sex lore. But if you’re looking for a great setting for some canon-compliant smut, may I suggest Cuiviénen?

Resources

PDF of LaCE

Mythgard Academy’s seminars on The Nature of Middle-earth. You don’t actually have to have read or own NoMe to follow these discussions. Great for getting a handle on the material, and ideal for listening as you work your way through reading.

[mothandpidgeon]

The Outlaws (Outlaw!Joel Miller x f!reader) - Chapter 2

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: Outlaw!Joel Miller x f!reader

rating: T (eventual E 18+ MDNI)

wc: 1.7k

summary: Wanted for murder with a bounty on your head, your only hope of escaping the Pinkerton detectives is an outlaw named Joel Miller and his sidekick Ellie. But Joel has other plans for you.

tags: old west au, enemies to lovers, grumpy Joel, handcuffed together, period/genre/canon typical violence, alcohol, morally grey characters, reader has backstory, no use of y/n

authors note: Posting this today in honor of act ii. Yeehaw. As always, thank you @ezrasbirdie for the beta and support in this (you really need to tell me to stfu about these two) and in life.

Joel once took Sarah to see PT Barnum’s Greatest Show on Earth. Each ticket cost him two quarters. She pulled him by the hand past the tents with Tom Thumb and the giantess, straight to the exhibition of wild animals. There were all sorts of exotic animals in the menagerie– giraffes, elephants, snakes. You remind him of the tiger. Beautiful and cunning. Fierce. Dangerous unless it’s kept under lock and key. 

Which is why he’s grateful he kept these old shackles in his saddle bag. 

You’re in a friendlier mood once camp is set up and a rabbit is roasted on a spit. He knows it’s a rouse, that you’re still spitting mad and hoping to slit his throat in the night. On that train, you were the demure damsel in need of a rescue. Soon as he put that cuff on your wrist, you turned into a fire breathing dragon. 

You can be as mad as you’d like. You’re no match for his strength or his revolver. 

They sit around the fire, Joel and Ellie propped against their saddles. It’s a cool evening, a steady breeze blows off the river. The stars paint the purple sky and the cave is illuminated with the orange glow of a fire. There’s plenty to celebrate. Though, even when they score a good amount of money, gold pieces, and get away without a scratch, Joel never feels much satisfaction. Despite his personal quandary, it would be a beautiful night, really, if Joel weren’t sitting there waiting for you to do something foolish. 

He can tell you’re meditating on some new escape plan, knows better than to look at you too long. A girl like you, pretty and with that sharp mouth, is the type that knows how to use her womanly wiles. You’re desperate enough to try just about anything and he’s not giving you the chance. 

You must think he’s stupid enough to fall for it too. He reluctantly passes you his flask and, after you drink, you wipe your wet lips with a seductive  finger. 

Ellie’s being a real chatterbox, recounting each moment of the robbery as if she’s writing her own nickel weekly and peppering you with questions. He’s not surprised she’s taken a liking to you. There aren’t too many of the female persuasion out here. Maybe she can see some of Tess in you. He doesn’t. Tess was always calm and controlled. And when she was angry, she never fucking spit at him. In fact, he resents you for making him think about Tess at all. 

“Ten thousand dollar bounty, huh?” Ellie asks you. “What’d you do?”

Joel’s seen more than a few people running from the law but none of them look like you. You’re no Annie Oakley. 

“My sweetheart was fooling around with my sister so I killed em both,” you say. 

“Really?” Ellie asks. 

“No,” you say. 

“What was it really?” she tries again. 

“Leave it,” Joel says. 

He’d be just as cagey about his past. Outlaws don’t live by any code but if they did, questions like that would be frowned upon. 

Ellie grumbles at him. 

“I’ve got ten on me too,” she tells you. 

“Your daddy must be proud,” you say, looking to Joel. 

They respond in unison— “He’s not my Pa,” and a “I ain’t her daddy.” 

You do a lousy job suppressing a smile. 

“So this is the infamous Miller gang? Ain’t much of a gang if you ask me,” you say. 

Joel grinds his molars. 

“We used to be a proper one. Most of ‘em are in prison now. And then we lost Tess to a bout with fever. And Tommy left,” Ellie recounts. 

“Who’s Tommy?” 

“Nobody,” Joel says same time as Ellie tells you, “His brother.”

You look Joel up and down. 

“That’s enough yakking for tonight,” he says. “I’m turning in. C’mon.” He pulls the chain. 

Ellie laughs. “I should warn you. He snores something awful.”

You scoff. “Is this some kind of ploy so you can wake up on top of me?” you protest. 

Joel’s patience is wearing thin. He’s got half a mind to turn you loose and let the wolves deal with you. 

“You can quit the belly aching, missy. I ain’t taking that thing off til you’re with the sheriff in Jackson.”

“You’ll wear him down eventually,” Ellie encourages. 

“Ellie, go to sleep,” Joel orders. 

She rolls her eyes. 

“What if I got to use the privy?” you ask. 

“Hope you like company,” Joel says. 

You huff. 

“You at least going to give me a blanket? Cold out here,” you say. 

Joel’s only got one in his bed roll, a beautiful Pawnee blanket he bought off a trader from Kansas woven with geometric patterns. He knows it would be gentlemanly to let you sleep with it but you’re no lady. 

He sighs as he hands it over. You wrap it around your shoulders with a self-satisfied look on your face. 

“Anything else I can do for you, missy?” he says with mock cordiality. 

“You can stop calling me missy,” you say. 

“G’night, missy,” he says. 

It’s not your best plan. But just because it’s simple doesn’t mean it won’t work. 

First step, you wait for Ellie and Joel to fall asleep. The girl takes a while. She’s got a dime novel with a cowboy on the cover that she flips through as the flames die down. You watch her through your cracked eyelids, pretending to have already drifted off yourself. 

It’s hard to tell if Joel’s out. He uses his saddle as a pillow and you’ve positioned yourself on the other side of it, your arm outstretched so you don’t have to be too close to him. 

He murmurs to himself. You strain to catch what he’s saying. At first, there are words you can understand. The name Sarah passes his lips. But then you hear him make a sound you can only describe as a whimper. 

It gives you pause. You’ve never been a nurturing type but it pulls at your heart strings, almost makes you want to put your arms around him. You imagine a hurt puppy inside that big, snarling dog of a man.

His sharp silhouette is highlighted in the amber glow of the campfire. It’s a shame he’s such a mean son of a bitch because he really is easy on the eyes. Then he rolls over. His unexpected motion nearly twists your connected arm out of its socket and you bite your tongue to keep from swearing. That bastard has you chained up like a dog. You do all you can to control your temper, swearing soundlessly. You can’t afford to wake him. 

You wait a long while, listening to him grunt and snore. Once you’re sure he’s good and asleep, you move. 

It’s a process. You begin by flexing your wrist. An innocent gesture that could be explained by sleepy twitches. He doesn’t stir. 

Eventually you feel bold enough to inch towards him, pulling the chain carefully along the ground. You crawl on your belly until you’re in front of him, then you dare to lift your hands up. 

The chain clinks against the buzz of the night insects and you swear it’s so loud you hear it echo off the mountains. You hold your breath, wide eyed, every muscle in your body taught. 

Joel doesn’t wake. He might be pretending but his chest still rises and falls slowly. Either he’s a hard sleeper or he’s deaf. Might be a little of both. You’re always tired after the rush of a big score. 

Ellie hasn’t woken up. Her eyes are closed, mouth hangs open. Down for the count.

You flex your fingers before you begin the next step, lick your lips and take a steadying breath. 

You’ve picked pockets before. Never tried it on a sleeping man, though. You keep your touch light, delicate, unbuttoning his waistcoat with one hand. It falls open for you and you can’t help but smile. 

The key to the handcuffs is tucked in the inner pocket. You saw him put it there. All you have to do is lift it out, unlock the cuff, and you’re a free woman. What you’re going to do after that, all alone in the middle of god only knows where, you’re not sure. But that’s not of material importance until you have that key. 

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip and you move slower than molasses in January, easing your first two fingers into the little pocket. Your fingertip connects with metal and your heart jumps. Pinching the ringed end, you hold on and pull. It’s awfully heavy. 

Because it’s not the key at all. You’ve fished a pocket watch out of Joel’s vest. Damn it. It’s a dainty little thing— fine gold with intricate scrollwork engraved on the back. The face is all busted up and it doesn’t seem to be ticking. Most importantly, though it’s not a key. You need that goddamn key if you want to get— 

The unmistakable click of a gun being cocked makes you freeze. Joel’s awake, dark eyes shining in anger. You’ve had guns pointed at you on a number of occasions but still it makes your blood run cold. 

“The hell are you doing?” he asks. 

“You’re dreaming,” you tell him. 

He doesn’t think that’s cute. The scowl on his face just deepens. 

“Alright,” you say, raising your hands in surrender.

You put the watch back in place and crawl back to your spot. 

“Gimme the damn blanket,” Joel growls. 

You toss it to him, cowed. But what did you expect? This had never been a very good plan.

Once you hear the hammer of Joel’s gun go back into place, you breathe a sigh of relief. It’s quiet for a while as Joel gets under his blanket and you know he’s laying there waiting for you to fall asleep. 

You try to settle down, wrapping your arms around yourself. The night air bites at you now that you’ve lost your blanket privileges.

“Sarah a sweetheart of yours?” you ask him. 

His head snaps your way so fast you think his neck might break. 

“You was talking to her in your sleep,” you explain. 

“Say that name again and I’ll wring your neck,” he says. 

He sounded like he meant it before but you feel like he’s looking forward to putting a bullet in you. You shiver. You’re smart enough not to say another word. 

---

Chapter 3

I'd love to hear from you! Comments and reblogs appreciated. My asks are always open!

[chloedrewitt]

Hi, could you write fic about Aemond House of Dragon where OC is Rhaeyneras “strong” daughter. And if plot could go OC was made Prisoner of Aegon ii during dance of dragons.OC and Aemond Are forced to get Married. Eventually they have kids, feel in love and Rule kingdoms aa king and queen and bring peace to boath sides

𝘽𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙤𝙣 - 𝘼𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙏𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙮𝙚𝙣 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 [𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 1]

summary: You are taken prisoner by Aegon II and kept in a cell until he calls for an audience, during which you find out that your mother, Rhaenyra Targaryen, has agreed to a peace contract between the Blacks and the Greens. You, as Rhaenyra’s heir, are to marry the eldest, unmarried son of King Viserys and Queen Alicent; Aemond Targaryen. This is an unwanted surprise for both of you, and you find it hard to make an effort. But when Aemond takes you to your dragon for a ride, seemingly against his brother’s wishes, you slowly begin to find comfort in his company.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

word count: 3.9k

warnings: none 

a/n: Thank you so much for the request, I loved the idea! I made a couple of changes to the canon to make sure this story worked out the way I envisioned it based on the request 💗

Part 2 will be about the wedding and their future!

Part 2

Request status: open [info]

Taglist:​​

If you wish to be added to or removed from the character taglist, please comment underneath this post​.

Masterlist - Ko-fi

The material of your dress irritated your skin, and even though you adjusted the lace collar multiple times, it only seemed to make it worse. Dirt covered you where your skin was exposed, and strands of your dark hair were now falling in your face, nothing but a phantom of the beautiful updo your maid had braided your hair into this morning.

For a prison cell, the room was moderately sized, so you did not feel claustrophobic, but it did nothing for the moist stone walls and the dirt that covered almost every part of them. Even doing as much as leaning against them, so that your muscles could relax, covered your back in slick muck. 

A guard had placed a tray of food at the entrance of your cell hours ago, but you had not touched it. Instead, you’d watched as the steam rising from the bread slowly faded and the goblet of water became polluted by drops that had fallen from the ceiling. You averted your gaze, trying your best to ignore the stinging pain in your stomach. 

You should have listened to your mother and not crossed enemy territory, but you had been confident in your and your dragon Zaelix’s abilities. Now, you were in a prison cell and Zaelix most likely laying somewhere in shackles, sedated so he would not fly away. 

The tears you had cried hours before were now dry, making it uncomfortable to move a single muscle in your face. Your gaze dropped to your hands, blood underneath your nails the only sign that you had struggled when they’d taken you. It had happened fast, and you could not recall any details, but you knew that the Greens, your own family, were behind this. 

Cruel were the wars where blood spilled blood, but that was what happened when you were born into royalty, and you had little problems with it. People made their own choices, and ometimes these choices were not the smartest, as you had to learn first-hand.

Your head was so heavy on your shoulders that you stopped caring about your filthy surroundings and rested it against the wall. There was no bed in the cell, unless one counted the piece of animal fur lying in the corner opposite from you. Which you certainly did not. You were Queen Rhaenyra’s first born, a future Queen in her own right if your side won, which it certainly looked like at the moment. 

The Blacks had more allies than the Greens, and in numbers lay strength. Not to mention the army of dragonriders your siblings were raising as you cowered in this cell, consisting of illegitimate Targaryen children with just enough Valyrian blood to bond with one of the feared beasts. 

Capturing you was like serving the enemy a means to exert political pressure on your mother. It did not seem to be enough that many of her own followers doubted your heritage, considering you looked nothing like your late father Laenor Velaryon, with your dark hair and sharp features, all of which were traits not commonly associated with Valyrians. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, cursing yourself about how you had failed on your mission to secure new allies, hoping that your mother and stepfather at least knew you were alive. He had accepted you like his own, after all, and out of your siblings, you were closest with your mother.

A sound coming from the corridor interrupted your thoughts, drawing your attention to the bars separating you from your freedom. 

A man stopped before your cell, keychain hanging from his belt as a hood covered most of his face, but judging by the graying stubble which covered his chin, you estimated that he was middle-aged. “Get up,” he barked, but you only gave him a venomous glare. 

He took a key from his chain and inserted it into the lock to open the door, which your eyes briefly jumped to. To run would have been foolish, considering you had no idea what the building you were in looked like, or where Zaelix was being kept. Without him, escape was close to impossible. But you had always liked to test your luck.

“Are you deaf, girl?” The prison guard said impatiently as he reached out to pull you up by the arm, but you were quicker. You dodged his hand and elbowed him in the temple, using his momentary startlement to run for the door, but were blocked by another man who stepped from the shadows into the doorframe. 

It happened so fast that you could not react, and so you bumped into his chest, which gave him enough physical closeness to take hold of your wrists with his gloved hands. 

“Let me go,” you said, struggling to free yourself, but his grip only tightened. You stared at his chest, and the Targaryen sigil which graced his chest. It was hard to see, since it was just as black as the rest of his leather clothes, but you were close enough to make it out. 

“I would not be very smart to do that, now, would I?” The man responded as the prison guard behind you grunted, presumably trying to stand after receiving the blow to his head. When you looked up at your captor, you saw that he had only one eye, the other one hidden beneath an eye path, and long, silver hair. This must have been Aemond One-Eye, also known as Aemond Kinslayer for reasons you tried not to think of.

You stopped resisting and angrily stared up at him instead, looking directly into his revealed eye while he firmly kept his hands around your wrists. Your chest was rising and falling rather quickly, as you tried to recover from the previous struggle. The man looked at the guard behind you, an amused smile on his lips. 

“Perhaps my brother should reconsider hiring a new prison guard after all, if you are so easily overpowered by a Lady,” he said, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine and his hot breath calming your irritated skin. 

“Forgive me, my prince,” rumbled the guard from somewhere behind you, as the prince turned his attention back to you. 

“Shall we?” He asked with raised eyebrows, as if you even had a choice in what was about to happen. You simply narrowed your eyes and remained silent, not intending to give him the satisfaction of hearing your protests again. 

He let go of one of your wrists and reached behind you, where the prison guard offered him a pair of metal handcuffs. You hissed when he bound your wrists with them behind your back, the cool material not improving the cold feeling you were exposed to. 

Wordlessly, he guided you out of the dungeon, the screams of other inmates, which they let out as soon as they laid eyes on the prince and guard, following you while you climbed the staircase. Each step felt as if someone dug knives into your feet, and you tried your hardest not to let it show. Yours was the blood of the dragon, and you would act like it. 

Stares followed you as Aemond led you through the halls of the castle. Your looks were less than appealing, and you were sure you scared some of the Ladies in the corridors, with your unkempt hair and the dirt that covered your dress.

You had expected to be brought before Aegon II in a throne room, so your confusion was noticeable when the prince opened a door, which led to a council chamber of sorts, and gently pushed you inside with a hand on your shoulder. He closed the door behind you, and you once again gave him an angry look before fixing your eyes on the figure sitting on the opposite side of the room.

“Aegon, I presume,” you said with disdain in your voice, but he only smiled at you. It was a heartless smile, one that made your blood boil. 

“No need for formalities among family, I suppose,” he sighed as he stood from the table he was sitting at, the sound the chair made as it slid across the floor causing the hair on your neck to stand on end. 

“Where is my dragon?” Your voice was only slightly shaking, a huge achievement in your eyes.

Aegon laughed, which sounded just as humorless as his smile looked. “You are captured, with close to no chance of escape. You, Queen Rhaenyra’s heir.” There was mockery in his voice, and you had to raise your chin to avoid succumbing to his insult. “And your first question concerns your dragon? Perhaps your mother should have named one of your siblings heir instead.” 

You tried to free yourself from the handcuffs, but Aemond was still holding onto you, keeping you from leashing at his king, who was studying you closely with his hands folded behind his back. 

“You know you are at a disadvantage. Most of Westeros supports my mother. You will have to slay half of the kingdom to make them accept you as king,” you hissed, and Aemond placed another hand on your shoulder to pull you back, most likely in case you’d try to free yourself again.

Aegon sighed as he walked around the table, tracing its edge with his fingers in the process. “Only a fool would think himself above reason. And trust me, Lady (y/n), I am no fool.” His expression changed for a moment, and you saw a hint of genuine remorse, before his facade returned. “It is why I proposed a peace treaty to your mother, hours after you were found trespassing on our lands.”

You narrowed your eyes, not sure where he was going with this. 

“You see, I never intended for any of this to happen, Lady (y/n). At first, I didn’t even think it right to take my sister’s birthright from her.” You remained silent, curious to see what he would say next. “The crown is the most vulnerable when its succession is unclear, and I intend to end the uncertainty in this realm. So I proposed a marriage contract to your mother, and after some negotiations, she agreed.” 

You stared in horror as the words reached your ear, and you realized that this marriage contract would most likely involve you somehow. You might have been a bit reckless at times, but you certainly were not a fool, either. 

“You already have a wife,” you responded, feeling as though your muscles were paralyzed. The eyeless prince seemed to be just as curious as you, for he took a step forward and let go of your shoulder. 

“Indeed I do,” Aegon said, eyes jumping from you to the man beside you. “But my brother does not.”

“And when, pray tell, was I supposed to find out?” His brother asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

“You know now, don’t you, Aemond.” 

You swallowed. At least now, you had confirmation that this truly was Aemond One-Eye, but the weight attached to this information was almost too heavy to withstand. When you turned your head in Aemond’s direction, you saw that his jaw was tense. 

“A warrior does not make a fine husband,” he protested in the most respectful way you could imagine. It was clear he thought highly of his brother. 

“I would disagree,” said Aegon, before resting his eyes on you again. “You will be welcomed as a member of this court to officially celebrate the engagement. But make no mistake, Lady (y/n). You will be watched at any moment. This marriage alliance is important, yes, but not more important than my court’s safety. I hope you understand the precautions we must take.” Aegon exchanged one last glance between you and Aemond, before dismissing you both. 

You looked at the man so boldly chosen for you as your fiance, before a servant came to escort you. Though the handcuffs remained in place for now, you could already feel just how much of a prisoner you would still be, even without these chains around your wrists. 

***

The following days felt like they stretched to infinity, partially because you were left in the dark about what would happen next. Luckily, you were allowed to have breakfast, lunch and dinner with the other Targaryens in the dining room, but always had to be escorted by two guards at least. Especially when you roamed through the castle corridors during the day.

You only saw your fiance during meal time, and he mostly avoided looking at you, which was so painfully obvious that you felt angry just being in his presence most of the time. To Aegon’s credit, he was the only one who tried to break the ice and asked you general questions, such as how you found your chambers, or what kind of food you would prefer for the ceremony. 

You had half-expected to remain in your room with only the company of your two guards until the wedding, when you heard a knock from the other side one afternoon, as you were reading a book to try and distract yourself. Knowing fully well that the guards kept a close watch on your room, this must have been one of the Greens. 

The book you had been reading became less interesting while irritation made it hard for you to concentrate. Sighing, you placed it aside and rose from your bed to open the door, which revealed Aemond standing before you. You threw a glance at both guards who were standing on either side of the door with their backs turned towards you. 

“Princess,” said Aemond, his exposed eye flickering between yours. You clenched your jaw as you let go of the door handle, crossing your arms in front of your chest. So far, he had been the only one to address you with the title you had been born with, even if your conversations had been short and rare.

When you only looked at him silently, he added, “I know this situation is far from ideal, but I wish to make it bearable for both of us.” 

You snorted, which made the guards turn their heads slightly. It was probably not every day that they witnessed a supposedly high born woman react like this. “Oh, so I am not a bearable match, is that what you are suggesting?”

Aemond’s eye narrowed before he exhaled deeply, and you found it amusing how easily he could be irritated. “This does not have to be harder than it already is.”

“Doesn’t it?” You asked, sarcasm dripping from every word like poison, as you took a step forward. He did not move, and you had to tilt your head to be able to look him into the eye. Aemond One-Eye had always been described as rather short in comparison to his elder brother, but you realized that this was far from true. He practically towered over you. 

“Because I’m finding it difficult to believe that marrying my brother’s murderer is anything but hard,” you hissed, staring daggers into the man, who, instead of retreating, lowered his head so it would be even closer to yours, before replying, “This is war, Lady (y/n).” His voice was surprisingly calm, almost sympathetic in a way. “And we stood on opposite sides. So you can continue to hold a grudge, or at least try to adapt to the situation. It’s what rulers do.” 

You hated that he was right, and you hated even more that your gaze dropped to his lips, even if it was just for a second. It had suddenly gotten very hot around you, and you had to put some distance between Aemond and you to be able to breathe again. 

“You speak of ruling, yet you are a second born son, and third born child. Your brother has heirs of his own.” You observed his facial expressions closely, but he was skilled enough not to move a muscle. Still, you could not help the feeling that there was something else these people were not telling you, and your mother must have been aware of it, too. You knew her, and she would have never married her heir off without the possibility of them sitting on the throne. You only hoped she had not decided to choose one of your siblings in your stead. 

“I wish to make up for the past few days,” Aemond said, ignoring your previous comment. You were not sure what exactly he was referring to, but you decided to hear him out. “So I have arranged for you to see your dragon.”

“Zaelix,” you said with wide eyes, and all disdain you felt for the man momentarily evaporated. “Take me to him. Please.”

Aemond nodded and stepped aside to allow you to leave your room, pulling the door behind you shut. When the guards moved, the prince raised his hand, making them stop in their tracks. “No guards are needed in my presence. Continue to guard the Princess’ quarters.”

Without a word, they remained standing as Aemond placed his hand on your back, guiding you through the corridors and away from prying eyes. You observed the walls, trying to memorize the path that would lead you to your dragon. Though you had given up on an escape, mostly thanks to your mother seemingly agreeing to the engagement, you still felt calmer knowing where you could find Zaelix if you needed him.

“I hope your people have not harmed him,” you said as you kept your gaze locked ahead, but you felt Aemond’s hand on your back tense, as if the sheer accusation was an insult to him. 

“I can personally assure you that your dragon has been looked after thoroughly. Despite resisting our dragonkeepers at first. He is very loyal.” You smiled proudly in response. 

All doubts were gone when you saw Zaelix outside the castle walls. He was bound to the ground by his foot so that he could only raise himself a few meters into the air. When he saw you, he let out a scream of joy, which would have sounded like more of a predator’s scream to those unfamiliar with these creatures. Zaelix spread out his tattered wings, the accents on his white scales shimmering iridescently in the sunlight, and you even caught Aemond staring at the creature. 

Zaelix immediately lowered his head to greet you when you stopped before him, pressing your forehead against the dragon’s cheek, both of you closing your eyes in unison. But when you looked up, you saw that he had been saddled. 

“I thought a small trip might do you well. You do not strike me as someone who likes to spend her entire time on land,” Aemond said. You smiled faintly, trying your best to still be angry with him, but Aemond was truly making an effort and you started to feel embarrassed that he was the only one trying. Judging by his reaction when Aegon had proclaimed the marriage plan, he had been just as unaware as you. 

When you looked around, though, you noticed that Zaelix was the only dragon on the field. 

“Are you letting me go alone?” You asked warily, not believing for a second that anyone from Aegon’s court would allow this. 

“Not exactly,” said Aemond, and you saw the hesitance on his face. “Vhagar is still recovering from an injury to her left wing. If you are not against it, I would ride with you.” 

You swallowed, but nodded, knowing that it was your closest shot at feeling the wind in your hair again any time soon. As Aemond opened the shackles and then climbed your dragon to settle in the saddle, you pressed your forehead against Zaelix’s scaly skin again, silently ordering the dragon to be at his best behavior. This alliance was fragile as it was, and you were responsible enough not to try anything that could harm your mother or siblings. 

After giving Zaelix a gentle pat, you followed Aemond into the saddle, wanting to sit down behind him, but he stopped you. “I think it would be safer if you sat before me,” he explained, and you simply looked at him for a few moments more before lowering yourself into the saddle between his legs. 

You could feel his chest in your back, and the warmth of his breath on your neck as he leaned in to whisper into your ear. “Your dragon is very beautiful.” 

You smiled at the compliment, not being able to help yourself since Zaelix was your entire pride and joy. Wanting to reply, you turned your head but accidentally brushed your nose against his, which made you reconsider, quickly turning your attention back to the dragon’s head. 

“Is this alright?” Asked Aemond as he placed his hands on your waist, and you hated how good his hands felt on your body. You hummed a response, not trusting your voice not to crack, before you gave Zaelix the order to fly. 

The wind forced your hair out of your face as your dragon rose higher and higher, until you could see the entirety of the castle below. Your grip around the saddle was strong, like you had been taught, and you let out a cheer just as Zaelix roared, which made Aemond chuckle behind you. 

“Have you ever let go of the saddle before?” He asked, his chin brushing your shoulder as he spoke. You had to turn your head again, this time to hear him better since the wind was almost deafening. 

“You mean… have I ever free ridden?” 

Aemond nodded, but when you replied that you hadn’t, his hands held your waist tighter than before. “If you want to try, I will hold onto you.” 

You felt your heart hammering in your chest, a small part of you telling you that this was a trap and he’d let you fall. Your assassination would not harm your mother’s political standing, since your siblings could easily replace you, but it would weaken her. 

Something about Aemond’s touch, however, made you feel like this was an irrational thought, and you hated how easy it was to trust him, despite what he had done. Against your better judgment, you closed your eyes and slowly extended your arms. Aemond pulled you closer towards him, the sudden contact making you gasp, but still, you refrained from opening your eyes. 

A smile spread across your lips, as you tasted freedom for the first time since waking up in that dungeon days ago. And even though your eyes were closed, you could feel Aemond looking at you, while he squeezed his legs slightly to make sure that you were sitting safely in the saddle. 

Your body reacted to his touch, and you even found yourself leaning against him. Despite the fact that you still did not fully trust this man, you did not want to spend your life married to someone whose touch you didn’t crave, and his attractiveness was evident. 

Slowly, you opened your eyes again and turned to look at Aemond, as Zaelix glided through the air. You met his eye, parting your lips slightly, and he did the same. “Thank you,” you breathed. “For today, I mean.” 

His gaze lingered on your lips as you spoke, and you found yourself wanting to take off his eye patch, to see what he hid beneath it, but you resisted the urge. 

“It was my pleasure, (y/n),” he replied, and you only broke eye contact once Zaelix had landed on the ground again.

[heretyc]

Horror [Trager, Eddie Gluskin, Val]

Horror: A collection of small fics, consisting of Outlast's most iconic antagonists [in my opinion].

The poll I started isn't over, but "canonically" is winning and I love it. Dark shit here we come lol. I will be writing for my beloved Terror-iffic Trio [aka my favourite antagonists from each game]. A party with these 3 would be lit.

Drabble ideas here.

Content Warnings: Uhhh...Outlast Antagonists lol. That is your warning.

Trager: Gore, awful jokes, his bare ass.

Eddie: Gore, murder, injury, mentions of his...lovely little display, sexual assault [minor, just a slight touch, no penetration]. [Please lord don't let him teach an art class.]

Val: Sexual assault [slight penetration w/ fingers], gore, murder, mud, Val's bare ass, mud breasts and mudgina.

I mean it, this is pretty heavy shit. It isn't too graphic, but if SA triggers you...either look away or read with caution. Trager's section is safe. Unless you're afraid of his ass...cause me too, man.

MINORS GTFO. Miners can stay as long as they're not minor miners.

Read with caution, I condone none of this. Fics underneath the cut.

You/MC take the place of the protagonist. So...you are Miles/Waylon/Blake. Yayyyyy....? Or nay? Depends on how you feel. MC is gender neutral, but is referred to with fem pronouns in Eddie's section for obvious reasons. You do not talk in Trager or Eddie's sections as Miles and Waylon were "mute". You speak in Val's section, though. You are described as having breasts in Val's section as both sexes/all genders have breasts. Tiddies for everybody!!

Enjoy.

Drabble idea: "See, this place isn't haunted!"

Sometimes, a saving grace can be your one way ticket to hell. And this had been an excellent example of that. The angelic voice over the dumbwaiter was a dream come true; after running and hiding for so long, it was like you were granted a break.

Only for your face to fall as the scarred face of a man greeted you. The air around him reeked of danger.

This was not the haven you were lead to believe was waiting for you.

"You made the right choice here, buddy," he declared before punching you in the jaw, a pained yell leaving your throat, and he was quick to take advantage of your shocked state to haul you into a wheelchair.

He must have done this a dozen times, as he was quick to lock your wrists into the cuffs attached to the chair. They were tight, and he merely chuckled at seeing your attempts of getting out of them.

He looked fucked up.

He stood in front of you, hands behind his back, and his eyes were scanning you like a wolf scans its prey before it mauls it to bits, "You're not a variant...huh. Well, buddy...you can call me...Trager. Everyone else does, anyway."

As Trager made noises looking you up and down, you looked at his face. Coated by some half-assed attempt at a mask and some strange glasses upon his face, you come to the conclusion that he was some doctor here.

He clicks his tongue and smacks you on the back, "You've got a lot of things to learn here, buddy. I am honoured to be your teacher."

Teach you about what, exactly? You didn't want to know. But he started to push you forward, and you only questioned where your hell would be.

This place was already hell, but...at the hands of some crazed madman, it was different.

Trager hummed to himself, making jokes here and there, and he once grumbled when you didn't laugh at a stupid impression, before he finally made it to an elevator. It was...somewhat cleaner up here, for some reason.

However...

You could feel a breeze upon your skin, and upon hearing the howl of wind and torrential rain, you saw an exit. Pitch black and windy, yet so much more welcoming than in here. You questioned if there would be a tornado warning or something by how violent the wind seemed to be.

The rain out there was intense, torrential, heavy and oh so divine, and Trager only chuckled.

"You want to take a quick walk, bud?" He leaned down next to you, eyes looking into yours like he was an old friend, despite also looking feral. "Run free, like Forrest Gump? Unfortunately, we're running out of time." He clicked his tongue once more, pulling you into the elevator.

This was a cruel joke. Even the Elvis impression - awful impression, mind you - wasn't as bad as this.

Standing beside you, Trager pressed a simple button on the control pad before clasping his hands together behind his back. After a moment of movement, he looked back toward you, his voice a tone that suggested jest, "Did you know they call elevators a "shaft" in other places of the world?" He chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

Looking at him, you realized his skin looked...awful. Like he was a draugr from that video game you used to play.

His scalp was scarred, and after spending an hour in this place, you realize you're lucky your scalp was untouched.

Wires upon wires were wrapped along his arm, and upon closer inspection, you were horrified to notice that they weren't wires, they were tubes.

Of his own blood.

How did he not feel that?

A man like him probably enjoys that, to be honest.

His nails were quite long as well, albeit you couldn't blame him...hygiene in a place like this was laughable. He probably had to exert his inner wildcat to defend himself in this shit hole.

You nearly sobbed when the elevator came to its destination, and he took hold of the handles once more.

It smelled of death and lost hope up here.

Choruses of screams reached your ears and you flinched. He seemed to notice, as he violently shushed the poor bastards trying to break free of their confines, "Sh. Shshshsh...you weren't putting your tongue to good use anyway!"

Tongue...??

The man shrieking had a bloodied mouth, and he soon quieted after choking on, what you assume to be, his own blood. Trager only sighed, muttering to himself, "Really, I just needed something to lick my stamps."

This...was a cruel joke. Taking someone's tongue for stamps?? You were deep in thought, only for Trager to notice and grin evilly, "You should see what I do with the balls."

...Dear god.

"Yeah, this weird...cannibalistic guy downstairs begs for them...the guy knows what he wants, I gotta give him that. He reminds me of somebody...eh, buddy?"

He poked you in the shoulder as he pushed, and it appears he was referring to you.

"I saw your camcorder. You're some sort of journalist, here to...what, expose one of the biggest experiments in history?" He laughed at the notion, shaking his head. "I admire the bravery, really. Braving through disturbed masses...I have to admit, I'm impressed."

You only gulped.

"People love to say this place is...haunted." Trager noted, pushing you into a bathroom of some sort. Bloodied, smelled of decay and looked like a paradise for bugs and bacteria.

What had scared you the most was the array of torture devices he had laid out on a tray. This man was deranged, one way or another.

He continued his one-sided conversation, focusing on the aforementioned tray as he walked over to it, "I mean, who wouldn't? People love to paint asylums as haunted. They hear a ghastly noise or a terrified scream and immediately tell the papers that a house of human suffering is haunted."

Trager's hand hovered over each instrument of torture, trying to pick which one, but he hadn't stopped talking.

"And I am more than sure that's your entire...reason for coming here. Trying to prove it was haunted. But guess what, buddy?"

He finally picked up a blade, long and serrated, and he pressed it against a finger of yours, the edges sharp against your thin flesh. He leaned in close, his dry lips forming into a smile, "This place isn't haunted."

He moved away, the blade removed from your finger, and you breathed a sigh of relief as he placed it back down onto the tray.

"No, no. It's worse."

He finally picks up a gigantic pair of scissors, much like something you'd see picking away at a shrub, and he was more than eager to shut them and open them, metallic hisses invading your senses, much like the feeling of doom.

You will die here.

"This place is an example of human cruelty, my friend," he announced, voice loud and cheerful as if he wasn't about to maim you, and he placed the blades around some of your fingers. He cared not for your horrified shrieks and begs, he only leaned in once more and whispered,

"And you will be nothing but an example of what happened here."

Slice.

...

"Oh, come on, buddy...it's not like you needed your middle finger anyway. Now open up...I have some stamps to lick."

Drabble idea: "Oh my god, are you okay?!"

"Darling, please! You act as if I've done something rancid! What have I done to you to make you so afraid of me?!"

The bloodied behemoth on your tail was quick and hurried as he chased after you, his feet slamming against the rotting floorboards. You almost couldn't hear the music that played alongside the horrific display he handmade. The smell was awful, but the sight of it was enough to make you vomit.

You would not be the victim to the Groom. Not now. Not ever.

You would not have your pelvis slit, or your chest stuffed like you were a sex doll [ironically, that's all you would be to him], and you would not let him confess his undying love for you. It was fake and corrupt like this entire asylum.

Despite the smell of mildew and death, adrenaline filled your blood and you could tolerate the disgusting scents as you breathed in, your legs not yet faltering.

You've heard what he's done. The man who so giddily chased you rambled about it as you snuck around, and you were not pleased.

This was the only way out. Sometimes you have to take risks...right?

This wasn't worth it, though.

And sometimes, luck runs out. Like right now, as you are stuck in a dead end.

There was only an elevator. And it was not on your current floor.

Shit.

You could jump and risk a broken leg...or...

The emergency ladder. Broken and rusted, but it's tetanus over death.

You could explain all of this to the news with lockjaw.

"Wait, what are you doing?! Don't, don't-!"

You had leaped, gripping onto the ladder as your bottom half slammed against it. With a hiss you tried to pull yourself up, only for the ladder to break underneath you.

The top had snapped, and you tried to grab onto what remained on the wall, only to fall, your heart stopping.

Of all things to die from, it was a rusted ladder.

Oh well.

As your body slammed onto the top of the elevator, a sharp pang began to blossom from your ankle, and you look to see shards of glass sticking out of your flesh. Now coated in blood, you cried out and ripped the shards out, piece by piece. Blood pooled around your foot as you cradled it.

"Oh my god, are you okay?!"

The behemoth above looked down at you with a horrified expression, his hands out and wanting to hold you.

"I hate to see you suffering without me! Why would you do something like that to yourself?!"

His voice was full of panic and concern, and for a moment it seemed wholesome, until the panicked silence became one of anger. There was...tension.

"You would...rather die...than be with me...?"

His tone had shifted so quickly. He was unpredictable, and that's what had made him so...scary. In general, he had looked like he crawled from a 1940s horror series. Sweeney Todd had come to mind, actually...

"You're just another whore, aren't you?" He growled out, only to sigh, like this was a normal occurrence. "It's quite alright, darling. A good man can turn a whore into a house wife...and I have faith in us. Let me just..."

The elevator roared to life, and you panicked even more, now. Your poor heart would likely kill you before he had the chance to. But as you rose, he merely hummed to himself, waiting for the elevator to rise to his floor.

You had no chance at moving or escaping, as when you reached the proper floor, he was quick to grab you before you became sandwiched between the top of the elevator and the ceiling.

He dwarfed you. Instantly. He carried you bridal style, an eerie smile on his face, "Come, now. I must make sure you look perfect for our wedding."

You had no chance, now.

He clicked his tongue, footsteps hard against the rotting boards, and his voice was quieter as he spoke, "And I need to wrap up your foot...you are a silly one, darling."

It didn't feel silly. It felt like your ankle and foot were on fire, stinging like mad.

You had accepted your death already, but if there was also one thing you could accept, it's that he wasn't actually half bad.

Minus the...anger fits and the "whore" bit, he would have been wonderful. Looking up at him, you see a man soiled by corruption.

His eyes would have been a beautiful, shiny blue if not for the pools of hemorrhage. They had looked...empty. Dead. But whenever he looked at you, they shone like his soul had been revived.

Is this what he had wanted? Love?

Everyone in this hell hole had been deprived of it.

It was sad. Really fucking sad.

But you had read about what Eddie had done, and seen it too. And he was past the point of no return. He had done too much to be redeemed.

Dread made itself a home in your stomach as you were laid upon something cold and wet, and you were strapped in. Arms and legs spread, and your clothes were ripped off.

You were now nude, and being touched by the Groom himself.

His hands were gentle as he caressed a calf, "You have such soft skin...you will look absolutely beautiful," he cooed, hand gliding itself upwards toward your knee, then your thigh, and then...

You only flinched when you felt his hand begin to caress your genitals, as gentle as could be, as if he wasn't violating you. T'was the touch of a lover.

But he was no lover, no.

His fingertips merely grazed along your private flesh, rubbing it as if he had wanted to stimulate you, and you wanted to scream.

Eddie sighed dreamily, like he was a married man and his life would be filled with nothing but happiness, and he, luckily, let his hand glide up to your navel. "You look divine already, but when I'm finished with you? Oh, darling..."

He removed his hand, thankfully, but he was quick to turn on the saw, and all you could feel was cold air from its rapid movements and doom.

He gripped the sides of the table you were on, and he was smiling like this wasn't totally fucked up, "I know this will be hard..."

You felt the table move, slowly but surely, and you began to wriggle, but he continued, "You will have to deal with this...and then the conception, which I promise, will be wonderful," he winked as the saw came closer, "Then the pregnancy...and oh, I can just imagine the birthing. You will look so beautiful, darling...like a goddess. Mothers are goddesses in their own right."

And all you could feel was the sting of the saw, and your soul fading from your body.

...

"You're just like the rest. Filthy whore."

You're lucky you weren't alive to see your mangled body, tossed with the rest.

Ready to rot.

Drabble idea: "I want to go home..."

Val, in a sense, had been an angel to you.

They did not have a halo, made of purity and gold, or have pristine, white wings to wrap you and hold you close, no. They did not bear robes of white or play a golden harp or sing a divine chorus.

But they had wanted you all to themselves. And they would not let Knoth's guard dog, or his sickly bastards he called "friends", ruin you before they had a chance to.

Because unlike Knoth, or Marta, or Laird or Nick or whoever the fuck, Val would put you back together.

They are a loving mother, dedicated to spreading love.

It had been painted in blood on your way to the mines, 'LOVE SET US FREE'. Bottles encasing candles, bodies strewn up like Christmas decorations...

What were they trying to do, exactly? Make their cause look homey? Elegant? Acceptable?

You had felt oddly welcomed. Every single enemy in your way was slain, journals and notes left in your path to urge you to come to them.

"Come to me," the red ink beckoned you on the dirtied paper, "and I will show you my love."

They had been so kind as to leave batteries and bandages. Before you had taken the small, makeshift raft, a final note had been placed in one of the small shacks, the bed made and smelling of firewood,

"I am waiting for you."

You did not want this. But you needed to find a way out.

The mines were not welcoming. You were not alone. And you had been chased into the underground, where you are now; held down by Heretics as they muttered, "mother, burn..."

Like the fallen angel ready to relieve the sinners of their pain, their martyrdom, Val had approached, coated in mud and looking like the demon of the mountains.

In their hand was a torch, raging with fire, and it made their white eyes so much more intense.

They had hummed eagerly, the hum evolving into a laugh as the torch was placed down and the Heretics were shooed away. You were too afraid to move or notice their cold, dirtied hands leaving your flesh.

Their eyes were wide, pupils tiny, and they smiled as they strutted to you, "We are creatures of appetite..."

They moaned, feeling up their body and their fake breasts, like they were a porn star and giving you a show.

"I want to feel your hunger," their voice became quiet, something only you could hear, and they leaned close, your eyes staring frantically into theirs, searching for any fragment of humanity.

There was none. And you felt saddened, knowing that the Val in those journals was not this Val.

This was something different.

"I want to know your desires...and show you what true pleasure feels like," they rasped, pushing you down and straddling your hips, grinding against your clothed stomach. Your fear had aroused them.

"I want to go home..." you whispered, tears rushing from your eyes, and they only laughed, leaning close to your face and whispering, "This is your home, my love," a muddy hand came up to caress your cheek and wipe the tears away, "and I...will be doting."

You had no chance to respond or even acknowledge the powder blown into your senses, or the tongue forcing your mouth open, and immediately, they sought dominance over your own muscle, wrestling with it. It had ventured to each nook and cranny of your mouth, like they wanted to taste everything about you, and they eventually pulled away with a moan, saliva connecting you two.

They licked their lips, humming in delight as their hands rushed to push up your shirt and reveal your chest. "Your body...is delightful," they breathed out, squeezing your breasts and rubbing your nipples with precision.

That powder did something to you. You had hated the feeling of their hands, but now you were overheating; desperate and quiet moans leaving your throat and making the cultist above you grin.

"I don't..." You couldn't even finish your sentence, as they pinched a nipple and made you shriek. It made them chuckle, and their hands moved south, ripping your zipper and breaking it. They got off for a second to completely rip your pants and undergarments off, and their naked thighs wrapped around your bare hips.

"Did you enjoy my gifts?" They questioned, hands now massaging your thighs, "You needed those batteries so badly...to document the lies of Sullivan, didn't you?" They purred, their hands tight and knowing just where to touch to get you to cry out in pleasure.

"That's why you came here. Fell from the sky, wrapped in flame..." they bit their lip, feeling aroused at the notion, "To record his bullshit."

You had even forgot about your camera, and you questioned where it was, until Val snorted, "It's gone, my love," their hands moved upwards to your genitals, "taken away...by my children. You won't need it anymore."

There was no pain when you felt their finger enter you. It was more pleasurable than anything you had ever felt, and it made you moan the loudest, and Val had revelled in this.

With precision their fingers located your pleasure spot, and sped up.

Your pleasure was their pleasure.

"God doesn't love you...not like I do."

And in time...you would know it to be true.

[jumexju]

MIRAGE

Fic Type !! : Headcannons

CW !! : None

Note !! : This is my own interpretation & headcannons for L, if youn like em just keep scrolling -_o

✦ MASTERLIST

Personally, I think he's on the aroace spectrum, it just makes sense to me. Its not that he can't experience love or sexual attraction, It just happens very rarely for him, since 1) He's busy [cuz of the whole 'world renowned detective' thing :3 & 2) He strikes me as the type of person to value having deep friendships more than romantic relationships

L is canonically someone who is analytical and logical 99.99% of the time so emotions, i feel, wouldn't come as easy to him as they do to others because of that.

It's not that he doesn't understand them, it's more so that he sometimes doesn't see the reason for them? (not sure how to expand on it) Personally I believe that he sometimes sees emotions as unnecessary or 'in the way'

I also believe him to be autistic. L has a lot of traits (like biting his nail, rubbing his toes, & fidgeting with his lip, which in an autistic person would be called stimming). Also, some fans of the series who are on the spectrum say the same which basically further solidifies this since it comes from actual autistic people themselves (note: I'm not autistic but I've had friends who are so it just makes sense to me)

I said this before in an earlier post but I headcannon L to be a metalhead/goth (def projecting BUT CAN U SEE THE VISIONNN???) Like, almost the whole soundtrack for the Death Note anime is Goth Rock, Death Metal & Visual Kei so it just fits him so well (esp for Misa, but thats for another post ^^)

He would probably listen to Metal bands like Deftones, Loathe, Slayer, Type O Negative, & Kittie

+ VKei bands such as NIGHTMARE (they made the opening & closing songs for Death Note ep1-25 ^^!), DADAROMA, MEJIBRAY, The GazettE, Buck-Tick & gulu-gulu

As for goth bands, I think he'd listen to Joy Division, Pink Turns Blue, Christian Death, & London After Midnight. (Hanté & Mareux too but they're Dark Wave so thats a whole other thing)

L & Misa are in a qpp (in my head) and you can't tell me anything different

Despite not having much interaction between the both of them in the whole manga/anime, I believe the complexity of both characters would compliment each other perfectly. (I am aware they are often shipped together but I personally cannot see them being romantically involved) Their relationship would be past that of basic friendships but not exactly crossing into the romantic relationship category

(I need to draw them together so bad adfasuieprffasdkfj)

I think thats it (unless something else hits me and I write another thing of these c: )

[storiesofsung]

Yuu OC - Mulan ⚔️

Pt1 An interesting concept

I’ve always been curious about the direction that TWST could go in regards to MC being a girl.

One of my favorite examples of this being this fic by DuckInSuits on Ao3

Now this inspired me to watch Mulan because it is one of the most famous “girl disguised as boy” story (other than OHSHC) that I know of.

Since literally almost everyone is twisted off someone (idk who Jack is tho) +the Disney references that make me cringe sometimes just because I know the existence of Disney, why not make the MC also twisted off something?

(lol Grim as Mushu tho imagine)

I just feel like the in canon MC does seem like the type of person to kind of work hard with what ingenuity they have since they live in a worn down building and pass classes they have zero prior knowledge on.

And they do kinda use their brains to figure out shit, especially with the overblots !!

Idk i just think it would be an interesting dynamic to work through

None of that liar arc tho, that usually stretches on too long but like… yk

I really enjoyed the fic because it made us connect with Cater (and I believe Ruggie?) in ways the normal canon didn’t explore. It made me empathize with them and actually be invested in their relationship with the MC. And I like how it shows just slice of life stuff like MC making pancakes in Ramshackle dorm/needing feminine pads.

Moments like these really give us a moment to stop and breathe to notice the story’s surroundings while making it believable and lived in. It balances out action and pure dipshitness.

Pt2 “Also I really like Mulans songs”

Honor to us all + Reflection

in regards to this while listening to Honor to us All, it actually made me think of a believable motivation for my said OC, she ran away because she didn’t want to get married, and didn’t want to pretend to be someone else just for her parents (and by extension society) to accept her

Now I know this motivation is more selfish than not wanting your elderly father to fight in a war but remember TWST characters ≠ their twisted counterparts. (Ex. Rollo is less pure evil than Frollo). And I think this could be an interesting motivation since her journey going to TWST could make the MC realize her actions and make her decide whether she did was right or wrong (=character development)

A Girl Worth Fighting For

You cannot make me believe every single man in an all boys school is 100% feminism core.

I think that’s where a girl worth fighting for could come in. (Deuce not included he is a feminist) but the 1st year friend group being a lil (while unknowingly) sexist in regards to how they see a female romantic interest, then later drinking respect women juice after realizing the strongest (they fought 6 overblots stfu yes they are) one in their fg is in fact a woman (and later apologizing to her lol)

Make a Man out of You

It’s self explanatory based on what I said earlier but I’m not sure who could be Shang in this song 😭😭. Personality based it’s either Vil or Riddle, Physically it’s Leona (he would not give a shit other wise), unless it’s for spelldrive)

Summary: Overall this is more of a Yuu not based on having a love interest, but as a character based on an icon (✨).

This has just been on my mind for a bit about an AU that I do not have the skills to write about l…but it’s for all you girlies who prefer pants over skirts and generally dont like to be categorized as feminine 🔥

[theres-an-endless-starry-sky]

⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ Hello there! ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅

My name is Jamie, I am the creator of 4 updating unfinished fics and do weekly one-shots! You can request a one-shot idea in my asks!

(See end of post for boundaries for requests!)

SOME FACTS ABOUT ME╰┈➤

I work as a barista/custom service/sometimes kitchen (????), I can tell you exactly what coffee to get if you tell me how much sleep you've had and how much you like sugar (feel free to send an ask!) I do 8am shifts usually and I want to die- I have weird online hours, apparently I'm never not online- Its become concerning... I'm either a James Potter or a Sirius/Regulus Black according to my mutuals/discord friends (Y'all need to make up your minds!! Let me know what you think-)

Any pronouns folks! Mix them up! Play games with them! I do prefer masc terms used for me but I identify as Gender Queer.

Flirty/joking/bullying/trolling/insults are okay as long as I know you and we've messaged before AND we're mutuals :D

MY Ao3 ACCOUNT - best fics MY AO3 ACCOUNT - random self indulgent shit TAG LIST FOR FICS (including links to all fics) The price of shiny secrets (I’m drunk in the back of the car) ONGOING 5.5k 1/3 Jegulus (chapter 2 draft 1 complete chapter 3 fully planned)

The history book on the shelf ONGOING 5.8k 2/? Jegulus long fic

Who’s taller poll series - on hold

One shot requests list - to see when I’m doing yours :)

Don’t really believe in complicated DNI’s as no one checks them unless they’re mutuals ig just don’t be a dick?

My tags:

#10/10 <- really cool posts I love

#jamie irl <- irl stuff

#you need not apply fics OR #jamies fics <- my fics

#jamies quotes <- quotes I’ve written or my fanfic quotes ect

Mutuals tags;

@moon-0f-saturn -> cally

@awokenbydreams / @canonically-dorcas-wife -> Dorcas wife

@stardustlixie -> lixie

@vecreates -> ve space @savagesyeah -> Bri

@beautyoftheships -> theships

Imma say it series where I say my opinions and y’all tell me if they’re shit

Facts about the stars where I make you cry over the black family names One Shot Requests I have 3 rules for requests, these are none negotiable: 1- NO INCEST 2- No underage/problematic age gap ships (like Snape x Harry, Sirius x Hermione) 3- Limited NSFW (see below)

Limited NSFW (I can't believe I'm typing this)

Getting this out now; I DON'T WRITE PWP, HARDCORE SMUT ectect, I write hinting towards, maybe some thoughts, touches and talks but not explicit smut. I care more about the plot then the smut.

[ageless-aislynn]

Title: “15 Minutes” (8/?) Author:  @ageless-aislynn​ Characters/fandom: Master Chief John-117/Reader, Halo the series Summary: You've got work to do. John worries. Things get a little more intense. Series: How to date a Spartan (without even trying) Rating:  T (PG13) Length: 1,945 (this chapter, 19,693 total so far) Spoilers/warnings: Set in the Silver Timeline of Halo the series, not the games or novels. Though we began with the events of Halo 1x06, there will be no more show spoilers. We are still firmly seated in the AU Warthog, merrily driving out to places where there’s only a passing nod to canon. 😉 Disclaimer: Definitely not mine but I do enjoy borrowing them just for a bit! 😉 A/N:  Text is both here in this post or available at AO3, however you like to read. Halo season 2 has finally arrived! However, this fic continues to zip along in the AU Party Warthog, so, while we began with season 1 way back when (and you'll see a few more things from s1 along the way 😉), we'll not be venturing into s2 territory at all. Unless s2 is going to take some verrrrry interesting twists, lol! Chapter 9 is still in progress by hand but I hope to have it ready soon. 🤞😣🤞The next chapter will also see us entering into some hurt/comfort for a bit but I tend to lean heavier on the comfort, in case you're worried. Or, you know, would be disappointed. 😉 If you read, I hope you enjoy! ⭐💖⭐

Taglist: @pinheadbanger​ @mysardencut​ @laurenstacy610​ @sporadicbelievernightmare​ @ultrablackwidower​ @bxmxtx​ @jellotherelol

If you would like to be tagged in my John/Reader fics, just let me know! I also write John/Kai, John/Cortana and Kai/male Reader, so I’m glad to tag you for whatever you’d like. If you would like to be removed from the taglist, also feel free to let me know, no harm, no foul. 😉 💖

Halo fic masterlist ⭐

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

The Troop Transport Warthog hit a particularly rough patch and you held on for all you were worth to keep from being ejected.

"Sarge," Private Taylor yelled. "Where are we?"

"That's need to know and none of you need to know, marine," Sarge shouted back from the passenger seat. "Just keep your head down, do your job, and you'll be home 15 minutes before your mama has breakfast on the table."

You couldn't particularly tell if it were dusk, dawn or high noon, the air was so heavy with the greasy remains of mortar rounds. In the distance, a nondescript cityscape occasionally flared with either continuing pockets of active combat or just the remnants of the devastation that had passed through.

Wherever you were, it felt like you were barreling at top speed through a graveyard of vehicles: Warthogs, Mongeese and even the odd Scorpion, some overturned, blackened and smoldering, others weirdly intact as if their drivers had merely stepped away for a moment.

This was a salvage and recovery mission, tasking your unit with marking vehicles as repairable, recyclable or a total loss to be abandoned.

The next hour or so, that had been your focus, moving from Warthogs and the occasional Mongoose, conducting a quick evaluation, then using your spray gun to mark a green circle on the hood to send back to Reach for repair, a white slash to send it to be stripped for usable parts or a red X to abandon, not worth salvaging.

You marked a Mongoose with a red X, though the gun sputtered and you had to give it a few whacks before it sprayed properly, then you moved on.

Next up was a Warthog that seemed in decent condition from the outside, short of the rear antenna twisted until it resembled a curly tail. But the electronics were fried and the entire undercarriage looked like it had plowed over a series of flaming spikes, all major parts gouged out and burned. There might have been a few nuts and bolts reclaimable but since you'd just recently been writing up requisition for needed parts, you judged that it was more effort than it was worth.

You made the call to abandon it but as you tried to spray the red X across the hood, nothing emerged, even after shaking the sprayer and giving it a few more hits with the heel of your palm. With a slightly frustrated noise -- who was checking to make sure that the sprayers were in working order before they were sent out? -- you headed to get a replacement. Along the way, you caught a private going in the opposite direction.

"Hey, see that 'hog there? Would you red X it for me? Thanks."

"Um, sure," the blond man said and headed where you gestured.

You were still looking for somebody who had a spare sprayer when Sarge drove up in the Troop Transport again.

"Wrap it up, it's about to get hot," he shouted.

You quickly joined the rush back to board the Pelican and scrambled into a seat just as it lifted off. A split-second after you'd clicked the restraint down, the Pelican rolled to one side, shuddering from an impact.

Alarms began blaring, mixed in with the pilot calling out coordinates, and you automatically tried to look forward, as if you'd somehow be able to spot what was shooting at you. All you could really see was the anxious faces of the other marines around you. You spared a couple of breaths to be glad that neither Maria or Jamie had been called in for this.

The Pelican took a second, more glancing blow and the resulting shudder rattled your teeth.

"Covvies?" somebody asked over the engine whine and the private across from you shrugged.

"Who else?" she said. "But that felt like surface-to-air to me. What about you?"

She met your eyes and it was your turn to shrug. "I'm not sure. Never been hit by any sort of missile before."

"Oh well, congratulations on your first missile salvo," she returned with a crooked grin.

The Pelican rolled once more, this time in an evasive maneuver, then thankfully smoothed out and made its escape without further incident.

Your unit was taken to the covert off-world depot known colloquially as The Pit, where everything that had been marked for repair or recycle would be delivered for further sorting. In the center of the large warehouse area was a compactor pit for all of the scrap to be sent into. Several cranes were already busy moving the smaller vehicles like Warthogs and Mongeese into berths to be stripped down while the still operational vehicles were lining up to be loaded onto heavy transport carriers to be returned to base.

You finished stripping your second Warthog for salvageable parts and signaled the nearest lift operator. The clawlike crane clamped onto the 'hog's shell, picking it up and carrying it towards the compactor while you moved on to a Mongoose with a crumpled left rear wheel.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a Warthog with a particularly distinctive twisted rear antenna being dropped off into the line to be loaded up and returned to FLEETCOM.

Frowning, you wove your way through the other mechanics, avoiding the occasional flying part, and found a green circle sprayed onto the hood.

Shit, the private must've heard me wrong when I told him to red X it. It seemed like an odd mistake to make but things had been hectic.

You grabbed a sprayer and neutralized the green and sprayed over it with a red X, then went to the nearest crane operator.

"You see that 'hog with the X on it? Drop it in the line for the compactor, please."

"Got it," the woman said and you waited until she'd picked it up and deposited it appropriately before you returned to work.

You were elbows into a Gauss 'hog's engine bay when you heard your rank and name called. Looking up, your heart gave a little skip: John in full helmeted Mjolnir strode your way with thundering steps you could hear even over the rest of the cacophony.

"With me," he said tersely, passing by and disappearing through a doorway at the back of the warehouse.

You had to hustle to catch up and he had already stopped by the time you joined him in the otherwise empty hallway. He turned, removing his helmet with a slight pneumatic hiss.

"Are you okay?" you both said at the same time.

The angle of the hallway meant you were shielded from most of the work floor. He set his helmet down and very carefully took your hands in his gloved ones.

"Insurgents took the field," he said, looking you over from head to toe. "Did you see combat? Intel was unclear."

"No, we got out but the Pelican took a few shots. Somebody said it felt like surface-to-air but I didn't remember Covenant using anything like that. It was insurgents, then?"

He nodded distractedly, glancing away to mutter, "I'll be right there." Then he looked back to you. "I have to go. Your unit's being sent back to Reach but if they divert you into combat..."

He trailed off, clearly realizing there was no way to finish that sentence the way he wanted.

"Tell them, nah, I'd rather not, thanks?" Your mouth twitched and you squeezed his fingers.

He gave a resigned chuckle. "Yeah, try that, please."

"You're the one who'll be much more in the thick of it," you pointed out. "You be careful, okay?"

"Always try," he said, bringing your hands up to press a kiss to the back of both.

Kai leaned around the door, her visor glinting green. "Chief, sorry but we've got to go."

"Copy that." He released you with clear reluctance and picked up his helmet. "Stay safe. I'll see you soon."

He vanished through the doorway and you took a breath, exhaling slowly. John suddenly appeared right in front of you again, leaning down to cup your face in one hand.

You were just about to ask if something was wrong when he kissed you.

For a moment, for forever, the universe shrank to just the two of you, his mouth on yours, a little frantic at first, then slowing, steadying out.

You felt like you were hovering off the ground and then realized you were; he'd picked you up at some point, pressing you gently to his chest plate. Your hand dropped to the 117 etched near his heart and it was gritty with sand and dirt. You were both grimy and sooty but it didn't matter. It couldn't have been more perfect if you were in a flowing ballgown and him in a tux, slowly spinning together on a glittering palace floor.

He set you back onto your feet but you only parted a breath away from each other.

"I... I'll get better with practice," he mumbled.

You smiled at him, feeling wobbly, lightheaded and more grounded than you'd ever been before, all at the same time. "John, if you were any better at that, I'd have to show you how fast I can get a Spartan out of their Mjolnir with my bare hands."

He was near enough to see his pupils dilate and that was incredibly gratifying. "I'll hold you to that," he said, his voice dropping an entire octave, making your toes literally curl inside your boots.

Then he put his helmet back on and left. You took a moment to compose yourself, then exited as well. There was no sign of Silver Team. No doubt, the Pelican waiting for him had taken off the second he'd boarded.

Cutting through the busy deck, you looked for any vehicle marked with a white stripe, still waiting to be stripped. On an impulse, you diverted to the line being dropped one at a time into the compactor. There was no sign of the curly tailed Warthog.

It could've already been compacted, you were thinking when you saw it going by overhead, clutched in a crane claw and heading back towards the line to return to Reach.

You didn't stop to think, you sprinted for the crane's operator booth. "Hey, put that 'hog down!"

The operator looked at you and you realized in a burst that it was the blond man you'd originally told to mark it with the red X back on the battlefield, who'd apparently designated it instead to come back to The Pit.

No, to go back to FLEETCOM.

Recognition went across his face at the same moment and he bolted from the booth. The lift automatically stopped, the Warthog swaying over the crowded deck.

You knew. You just knew.

You ran as fast as you could and slammed the alarm on the wall. "Bomb!" you bellowed over the shrill klaxon. "Bomb! Clear out!"

Jumping into the operator booth and grabbing the controls, you quickly scanned the area as marines scattered everywhere. There was only one place you could think to go.

You swung the arm around, guiding the curly tailed 'hog firmly clasped in its grip towards the compactor pit. It felt like it was taking a year to get there but you couldn't release the controls or the safety would bring it once more to a stop. Once the Warthog was finally in position, you opened the grip.

What if I'm wrong? you thought as it began to fall. I'll feel like such a fool if--

There was a saying that if you were close enough to an explosion, you would never actually hear it.

It was true.

end note:

If you want to, you know, imagine that Sarge's full name is, sayyyyyy, Avery Johnson, well then, who am I to tell you that you're right or wrong? 😇

If you don't know the Troop Transport Warthogs, here's one in action from Halo: Reach. It's on the level "ONI: Sword Base" and is scripted to be destroyed but there's a way to save it and the marines in it and take it with you for a great deal of the rest of the level! I love saving the Troop 'hog, even if it always still looks like it's on fire. Nah, it's fiiiiiine, no worries! 😎👍😂😉

[tarjapearce]

Hey, I wanna say i really really like the way you write fics. It feels??? Natural?? To read it?? Always an adventure everytime I read a fic of yours.

How do you write so good?? I'm a writer as well and I'd love to hear your tips and tricks ^^

First of all, I wanna thank you for liking the crap stuff I write. (Cause I'm genuinely amazed some times that people just like it and I'm not saying this because.)

⚠️⚠️LONG AND POSSIBLE CONTROVERSIAL ANSWER AHEAD ⚠️⚠️

It's kinda funny, ngl. Lemme tell you something, I don't know if you guys struggle with Impostor Syndrome a lot like me, but everytime someone gives a compliment like this my brain just goes into self sabotaging mode.

In the outside its :

But in the inside, my brain immediately goes:

Cause I'm aware that I can do better. (And we will ~) it's weird. I'm always striving to do better.

As for the tips and tricks, I'm surely not the right person to ask advice from 😅, but Imma just tell you this from what I experience and from my perspective (Hopefully won't get backlash from this, if not, R. I. P. me jsksj) Be warned though, it's kinda contradictory cause writing is hard yo!

1. You gotta read. Either books or whatever your favorite genre is, but you gotta read. I consume fan fics and non fanfics cause you learn from other people too. I read fanfics mostly to know new words, how the character develops and the like.

I read more spanish stuff than anything. Which I try to transfer to what I write.

2. I try to keep it as simple as possible. With that I mean to not over embellish words cause it gets boring and weird. Sure, everyone wants to make their fanfics pretty (nothing wrong in that) but sometimes I feel that less is more. Like, nothing wrong if you wanna poet the f- out of your fic. (THIS IS A DOUBLE EDGED ONE SO BE CAREFUL!!)

I mean there is a huge difference in reading:

"The anger and frustration on her way of living was taking a toll on her mind"

and:

"Her nemesism had muddled her mind into an endless spiral of what ifs and what not, and frankly if her mind could speak, it'd beg for a break."

It's hard to pick one style, but as long as you keep it consistent, I guess it's all good (?) (Funny cause I always aim for the second one and end up in the first jsksj and I dont even know myself if I'm keeping it consistent)

3. Get yourself a beta reader that doesn't coddle you. It helps alot!!!! Cause again, compliments sure are nice, but they don't tell you where you could get better. ✨( Unless the reader provides puntual feedback on what they liked and what not. Those are my favorites and a rare gem ❤️)

4. I know this one is hard because everyone at some point have done this. But IF YOU COMPARE yourself to other writers? You'll lose yourself. Not only you'll lose motivation cause you seem unable to write like them, but you will fall into this... vicious circle of self deprecating and burnout. And the self doubt sky rockets nonstop.

Everyone is different. Everyone learns in a different pace. Trust me, I wanted to make great stories with a good looking writing when I had the slightest idea of what I was doing (Still do!) 😂. Writing fanfics is not a competition to who writes more beautiful/good/professional than others. Or who has more notes or the most canon-stuck character, or the cause let's face it, none will get a character's personality to a 100%!!! (And that's ok cause it's fanfiction and we all have a different approach to the character either emotional or mental) .

Personally for me, the cockyest thing someone can do is to claim to know a character more than the creators themselves. Kinda rude for me, if you ask . Like, sure feeling a deep connection with a character doesn't mean it'll grant us instant access to their whole self. Characters just like us evolve. Either for the good or the bad, but they don't remain the same, so knowing them completely is a big fat lie. Unless stated by the creator. (But we're delusional in this site, so~)

I mean, sure characterization is something we all struggle since we guide ourselves by some of the character's most prominent traits and make them their default personality. (I've sinned in this jsksj so don't worry)

5. HAVE FUN AND TAKE BREAKS. I mean it. The favorite things I've written is where Im genuinely having fun writing it. But also after a well deserved rest. Cause if something doesn't feel right, it won't be right. And burnout is easier to get at than we actually think.

6. I recently started to follow writing advice blogs, one of my favorite @heywriters.

@she-who-fights-and-writes. (They have amazing writing resources, so does Pinterest and YouTube. Seize them!!!)

But yeah, I'm still an amateur on this, I make emphasis in the 5th one tho.

Hope this helps you? ;w;.

Love you❤️✨

Thanks for stopping by. ❤️

[straycalamities]

alright i been meaning to do this so:

what is and is not allowed to be done with any of my characters! this includes art, fics, edits, headcanons, whathaveyou

[general content/trigger warning for uncomfortable, possibly-triggering topics because this is mainly the gist of what i dont want to see]

x = never ? = ask for permission

do nots: x - no noncon (if you engage to work through your feelings, never make my characters the perpetrators, it skeeves me out) ? - no genderbends/sexswaps/whatever they're called anymore? idk just don't mess with their gender, pronouns*, or assigned-sex-at-birth as a general thing unless i already have or okayed you directly. triple-especially if they're not cis x - respect their romantic orientations/sexualities! if you don't know a character's then you can ask me, but yeah. ie: don't ship andrew with women, he's homosexual x - [NSFW] absolutely no ageplay kinks or anything like that with my characters. no raceplay. just..nothing like that. x - no pregnancy. no mpreg. no omegaverse. none of it. (i've come a long way from it being straight-up a trigger but still, yea,) i have had some of my characters naturally be pregnant/have babies but i'd rather handle it myself, if you know what i mean x - this is a duh, but nothing hateful/bigoted using my characters. like, for instance, i do joke abt shit and say mainverse!entre is a conservative but don't unironically use him for anything awful like that. joking/memeing around about his terrible political stances is fine though x - i would never write or have my characters telling anyone to "kill yourself" so please don't have them say stuff like that. even if it's a joke. it makes me uncomfortable. (there may be a few exceptions in my giant roster of ocs but as a general rule just avoid it) x - never use my ocs likenesses or art of them as art for your own ocs. that's never okay. my ocs designs are for my own characters only.

*it's okay to have neopronoun headcanons

okay! generally anything i havent said isn't okay IS okay, but just so anyone reading this has a clearer idea

it's okay to use my characters for expressing yourself, venting, or just personal stuff like that. if my characters help you through something, go ahead and express it. i'm happy they help :)

playing around with gender presentation (not gender) is perfectly okay with any of my characters

shipping in general is fine as long as it doesnt go against the don'ts list. i dont care who you ship them with

[NSFW] i'm okay with pretty much any other kinks other than anything that goes into noncon, bigotry, or underage so go wild even if it's not my thing personally i don't care. (ie: the swagtre piss fic? lol im not a watersports guy but chase your bliss)

my characters are all free game for anything horror themed as well. horror as a genre, body horror, psychological horror, whatever. go for it. i have a personal major squick for eye gore but i can handle (and enjoy) pretty much anything else in this realm. go as gorey or not as you like (just tag appropriately for other ppls sakes)

handling self-harm/suicide idealization themes is technically? okay? for my characters? just uh...be respectful i guess. and definitely tag appropriately. this theme is canon for a few of them so i am okay with it just handle it with care is what i'm saying

go ham-buck-wild with mental illness headcanons or projections or anything like that. i dont think i have an oc that doesn't have at least something, so if you see yourself in their symptoms, go for it. only some of them i have personal labels for some of their stuff but otherwise it's whatever. just be respectful, again.

kinning is also okay! kin, synpath anything like that. go ahead! go wild with it. i think it's neat. just be respectful.

and an important note to all of this, other than being respectful to others and the characters themselves, is to respect me. just because it's okay that you do it with my character, doesn't mean i have to agree with it or make it canon or anything like that. it just means i gave you permission to engage like that. so please don't come to me trying to ask or force me to change something about my own characters or get so lost in your headcanons you start to disrespect what i've established myself

and if you ever have any questions about them or any of this, just let me know. i'm always happy to help

also yet again DONT REPOST MY NSFW ART ARGHHHH!!!

[electronicdelusionstarlight]

OK, uh, I am, like, writing this crack fic right now, don't worry about it too much, and I was looking back up the Meta Liberation Army thing...

And, uuuuuuuh...

Can we talk for a QUICK SECOND about the ideology of BNHA villains?

OK, like, I'm trying to do this thing in the fic, where I position the Meta Liberation Army and Humarise from the Movies as two diametrically opposed ideologies for obvious reasons, and Humarise is easy as shit to write, it's just a Death Cult who believes in what is, in universe, a fringe conspiracy theory by a disgraced quork scientist from 50+ years ago, an hypocritical one at that since none of their high ranking members are Quirkless despite advocating for Quirkless rights.

Anyway, in my fic they just finance the Shie Hassaikai for now, hence the gang not going under, and and will come into play later, but I had the bullheaded idea to also tackle the Meta Liberation Army immediately for added drama, you know, the parallels, and holy shit...

The MLA are Ancaps.

This is, and I can't stress this enough, the most charitable way I can read them.

Their entire ideology is essential unregulated freedom. Everyone should use the quirk the way they see fit, with no permits or licences, always. Basically the dissolution of the social contract they are currently living in.

This is also the ideology of the League of Villains mind you, but there is a big difference there.

ReDestro is a rich fucking businessman.

The three top leaders of the Army? One controls the biggest telecommunication company in the country (Modern Media) the other their biggest publisher (Traditional Media), and the third is a GODDAMN POLITICIAN.

Do we know... ANYTHING about the Political Leanings of the Hearts and Minds party in canon? Like, I assume they'd be advocating for ways to ensure Meta Liberation Army doctrine to be upheld right? Which means tax cuts for their allies, lessening in quirk regulations, I guess some Token Heteromorph support?

Keep in mind the only Heteromorph among the MLA top ranks, as well as the only woman, is also conventionally attractive. Like, I can DEFINITELY see her as a great example of some weird Glass Ceiling "Got mine fuck you" situation, in the way her gender and quirk are ultimately secondary to her Social Class as a member of the rich elite.

Like, shit, the more I read about them the more I am amazed Horikoshi essentially wrote about how in the BNHA universe there is a secret society composed by the richest men in the country, infiltrated at the highest ranks of society, even among heroes or the commission, advocating for deregulation and zero oversight...

And then just... Did nothing with it.

Like, ReDestro straight up... Picks a fight with the league and then that's it, we doing villain shit now, time to suicide bomb the commission for no reason, the MLA could have EASILY fucked over Japan with a 10 year plan of gradual political shift, and NO ONE could have done anything about it cause they are just normal businessmen at that point.

"You don't arrest Lex Luthor for burning the rainforest you arrest him for using a giant robot to do it" sort of shit.

Like, imagine this shit is tackled with the gravitas it deserves, and Izuku has to come face to face with the fact hero society is corrupt and a slave to capital and he can't do jack shit from stopping a LITERAL POLITICIAN from spreading harmful rhetoric via social media and the traditional medias unless he goes rogue and starts car bombing people, that he can't even "vote with his wallet" cause Detnerat controls most of the market when it comes to support items?

Like, damn.

[sophsicle]

Hey! I've recently felt the urge to write for the first time since I was a child, and when I sat down to explore that some scenes of Regulus and Sirius at home for Christmas kind of poured out of me, I'm now considering building on those to write a long, canon-compliant, Regulus POV Jegulus fic.... In your writing, how do you navigate originality, since fanfiction is inherently emulation to some degree? Tbh I'm mostly worried about other fics, not so much the canon text.

i sort of feel like unless you specifically look at someone else's work and go "i'm gonna do that" then you don't need to stress about how original your writing is, you know?

l think in the age of copyright we're all a bit too obsessed with like "this idea was mine" when in reality a) i think that's just bad for art since art does and should inspire other art and b) no it isn't, like that idea is not yours. you think in the WHOLE of human history you are the only person to ever have that thought? you might be the first person who legally claims it, but i promise you are not the first person to think it

the human experience in general is not entirely unique right? like a lot of our lives will follow certain patterns, certain events occur to many people, it is what allows us to relate to one other. what is unique is how we interpret or react to those events. and i think writing is similar? fanfiction is kind of a testament to that. like how many fics have The Prank™ in them, right? and none of them are the same, all of them are exploring different aspects of that concept.

like to me, plagiarism requires intentionality, you have to be intentionally trying to copy something (so if you look at someone's work and rewrite it changing a few lines so it isn't *identical* that is still plagiarism) but it's ridiculous to pretend like we aren't all constantly being inspired by the works of other creators both in this space and outside of it. AND AGAIN, that is a good thing.

i don't know if this is at all an answer to your question? like i suppose, i am well aware that i have been influenced by the things that i have read in fanfiction and published works, that they have impacted me as a writer, but it would be no fun to me to try to reproduce those works, i don't even think i could. So elements of them may be in my lil brain, but when i write i'm not thinking about them, so if they come out they come out twisted and reworked and mutated into something that is very much personal to me in some way

[sprite-writes-fanfic]

🌊🪻MASTERLIST🪻🌊

This will include multiple fandoms, as I am a person who has phases through different fandoms! There will be the fandoms I feel comfortable writing with. More will be possibly added to the list at a later date. ✍️

• JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure

• TMNT

• Slashers

• Twisted Wonderland

• Dead By Daylight

• OCs (for the friends who request it.)

‼️Request guidelines‼️

I like to write all kinds of things, but there are specific do’s and don’ts. Keep in mind;

✅ Do’s:

• Fluff

• Comfort/Reverse Comfort

• Headcanons

• Angst

• Smuts (sometimes)

• Crack-fics

• Gender-neutral reader is usually applied in most of my fanfics unless requested otherwise.

🚫 Don’ts:

• Incest/T-cest

• Non-con

• Pedophilia

• Toilet/gross fetishes

• Canon x OC; I fully support canon x OC! I love those, but I will not write for your OC, I do not know them well enough and I’d rather not mischaracterize them!

• Overall, just nothing gross or bad, nothing you wouldn’t want to be asked or isn’t appropriate and goes against my guidelines… I will ignore and even block depending on the requests.

🪻Requests I’ll be taking🪻

— Keep in mind; Some fics I will not be writing due to lack of motivation or I am currently not in that phase, nor do I feel like writing for certain fandoms! (Note: These will change up in the future so keep an eye on my masterlist to see what’s available to be written at that time!) If you see; ❌ means will not do! ✅ means I will do! 🔆 means per friend’s request!

• JoJo’s Bizarre Adventures ❌

• TMNT ❌

• Slashers ✅

• Twisted Wonderland ❌

• Dead By Daylight ✅

• OCs 🔆

💫JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure💫

🫧 Caesar Zeppeli

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/738788515648815104/random-caesar-zeppeli-headcanons

☀️ Dragona Joestar

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/739646542145814528/dragona-joestar-x-reader

⛵️Josuke Higashikata (8)

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/737102469789777920/josuke-higashikata-8-x-reader-word-count-1575

☁️ Weather Report

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/737924254818091008/what-weather-report-is-like-with-his-so

🐢💙❤️TMNT💜🧡🐢

🐢 2003 turtles

Note; I will write the turtles over the age of 18! No I will not write smut of them, thank you, have a good day. :)

Together

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/742874822396297216/when-the-03-turtles-are-in-love

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/743078858971070465/first-date

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/743321420897107968/hey-so-how-do-you-think-the-2003-tmnt-boys-would

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/743593020410281984/hey-so-how-do-you-think-the-tmnt-2003-boys-would

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/744048794428211200/ok-so-i-wonder-how-the-tmnt-boys-any-version-you

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/744075948251561984/the-03-turtles-first-kiss

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/744672931904356352/hey-so-how-do-you-think-2003-boys-would-deal-with

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/745438300709519361/hey-so-how-do-you-think-the-2003-boys-would-deal

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/745489919032606720/hi-i-hope-your-having-a-good-day-i-was-wondering

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/745959995344044032/can-i-request-headcanons-for-all-2003-boys-react

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/747021048463097856/how-would-the-tmnt-bros-2003-react-to-a-best

Leonardo

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/747027023288041472/hey-so-how-can-i-get-a-scenario-of-leo-2003

Raphael

None yet!

Donatello

None yet!

Michelangelo

None yet!

Casey Jones

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/746571072867123200/hi-could-i-get-some-hcs-of-the-03-turtle-boys

🐢 Bayverse Turtles

Together

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/744670077089136640/hello-i-was-wondering-if-you-could-do-either

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/745441884947742720/hey-i-was-wondering-how-do-you-think-the-bay

🔪Slashers🔪

None yet! I have some from my previous blog that I’m planning to reblog here soon! Until then, look in this blog; @sprite-real for them! <3

🎭Dead By Daylight🎭

None yet!

🐦‍⬛Twisted Wonderland🐦‍⬛

🦁 Leona Kingscholar

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/737791332459872256/hello-if-its-not-a-problem-i-would-like-to-ask

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/737875396071161856/hi-sorry-if-my-english-isnt-very-good-but-i

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/738786371749150720/hi-im-appearing-again-if-it-doesnt-bother-you

🐍 Jamil Viper

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/738786371749150720/hi-im-appearing-again-if-it-doesnt-bother-you

🐉 Malleus Draconia

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/742860989186342912/malleus-romance-hcs

🌊🪻OCs🪻🌊

💸 Mammon

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/737279831427956736/well-i-wonder-who-asked-that-last-one-must-got

💙Happy reading everyone!!💜

[bourbon-ontherocks]

20 questions for writers

I was tagged by @pia-writes-things (ty!!! ❤️)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

46!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

703,271. Which is, um, a lot.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Good Girls (formerly), HPI (formerly), and l'Art du Crime. There's also a random bit for les Combattantes, and one GG fic has a shared universe with Graceland. I'm very mono-fandom lol.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Take A Dip

It's All Coming Back To Me

It Hurts When I See You Struggle

Love And War

We're Living In A Powder Keg And Giving Off Sparks

Unsurprisingly, these are all GG fics, although I don't think my kudos ranking is accurate because most of these were impacted by the great kudos-bombing gate from 2020 so it's hard to tell what's actually my most kudo-ed fic.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Absolutely. My secret goal is to keep the conversation going back and forth for the longest possible time because I love the opportunity for a good ramble about my writing 😈

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I wanna say Ad vitam æternam (L'art du crime)? I mean, it's literally an MCD fic, so, not that merry... Also if I remember correctly, Always lost in the sea (HPI) doesn't end on a very hopeful note either.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I don't know? All of them? None? I generally tend to go for happy open endings with that extra bit of bittersweet so I really couldn't tell. But hey, maybe the ending to that thing I'm currently writing actually is the happiest of it all, because oh boy, things do get cheesy at some point 🥺

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No at all! Unless you count that one person who commented on several chapters of whichever long GG fic I wrote just to point blank hate on Beth character lol

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

Of course I do (in English only), I like my porn toxic and desperate and angsty with just the right amount of power play and mutual hatred. Basically, I write hatefuck 😂

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not really, no... I've tried a couple of times, but I think I'm better at/more interested in mimicking existing interactions than inventing a dynamic between characters who never met canonically (and also, boy the kind of SETUP you need to justify some characters crossing paths... it's just too much work). I'm more of a cameo/easter egg kind of writer, so once in a while I'll allow a character from another fandom to pop up in a fic and say hi, but it's really a blink-and-you'll-miss-it kind of encounter.

I guess my craziest attempt would be that Crazy Ex-Girlfriend / Good Girls crossover that I never finished though, cause like, super different moods?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of but I don't really attempt to know

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! By myself lol. I once posted a fic in two languages before acknowledging it was a hell of an additional work 😭

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

Kinda? We never finished nor even posted it but at some point we shared a quite unhinged co-writing story with @whiskeyjack and @00gangfriend00 and it was a lot of fun 🥰

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

You... you guys have that? You don't just live by your Ship of the Moment just to instantly forget about it and hop on the Next Ship when it shows up? I'm sorry but I don't think I have one of those.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

What a trap question!!! 😂

It's All Coming Back To Me, obviously. Look, I really really want to finish it, not even for me at this point, but for the 120-something people who subscribed to it, for the faithful readers who still leave me comments every now and then hoping for closure. I know how it ends. I have it partially written. I just don't seem to know how to write for Good Girls anymore, and getting my head back into it feels like such an insurmountable load of work, I just- I'm trying, ok?

But like, if someone's interested in helping, or even writing that ending based on my notes (and getting full and proper credits for it obvi), just let me know! I'm really open to it 🥲

16. What are your writing strengths?

Probably dialogues? I've been told many times that my dialogues feel very close to the original, and the thing is, I write about TV shows and I have a very good ear so I think I catch quite easily the actors' voices and tones and mannerisms in my head, so every time I write down a line, I play it several times in my mind with the character's voice to determine whether they would say it like that or not. Looks like it's not working so bad.

Also I *think* I'm not too bad at stream-of-consciousness inner monologues. At least it's one of my favourite things to write so there's that.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Action scenes (that includes sex lol). Filling the gaps between the important parts. Descriptions. Setting up the scene.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Like, featuring two different languages inside the same fic, or writing in different languages? I'm not sure I've ever really written the first one? I guess I find it a bit clunky, occasionally I've written scenes that included a character whose native language wasn't the one of the fic, and I'd give them a line or two if that's relevant to the plot (for instance, if characters are lost somewhere in another country, I can add a line/dialogue in another language for comedic effect. Or it can be a way for a character to whisper something for themselves), but the logistics are quite nightmarish, you gotta either assume your audience knows the second language, or translate the lines in the author's note, or have another character translate it in a way that doesn't sound too articifial, that's really really tedious haha

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Good Girls.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

You think I know that? Out of FOURTY-SIX??? Lol. Get out.

Tagging: @sdktrs12 @joeyjoeylee if you're around @riosnecktattoo @humanbra @hemerae-ramblings @sothischickshe @asteraceae-blue

[spazzcat]

Spazzcat's (Incomplete) YOI Fic Rec List

@alexseanchai said yes please, so now you all get to hear me ramble about the YOI fics I've been reading! I may do another one in the future since I'm still working through the archive but for now, these are the ones I've enjoyed and hope you will too! Note: Unless specified otherwise, all these are completed works.

Until my Feet Bleed and my Heart Aches by Reiya

‘…Of all the rivalries in the world of sports over the years, perhaps none has become so legendary as that of Russian figure skater Viktor Nikiforov and his rival, Japanese Yuuri Katsuki…’   A single event changes the course of Yuuri’s life, throwing him into a bitter rivalry with Viktor Nikiforov that spans across his entire skating career. But as the years go on, rivalry and hatred begin to develop into something very different and Yuuri doesn’t seem to be able to stay away, no matter how hard he tries. Hatred and love are two sides of the same coin and even though everything changes, some things are still meant to be.

Wordcount: 200k Sex scenes: Several, plot-critical Additional notes: This is the first installment of the Rivals series, which probably everyone in the fandom has heard of but I can't not include it. The sequel, Of Bright Stars and Burning Hearts, covers the story from Victor's POV. An absolute banger of a series, and a real treat to reread as well as read for the first time after learning what was happening on the other side of the conversations. Expect lots and lots of miscommunication and heavy emotions throughout.

2. Stargazer by Fahye

"No, see, we've all been trained a certain way. The training system is traditional; it's centuries old. Nobody taught you. You ballist like it's got nothing to do with war at all." A sleepy, extraordinary smile crawls over Victor's face. "Nobody else does it like that. That's why we're going to win."

Wordcount: 23k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: To paraphrase the author's notes, this is a sports AU of a sports canon, where the sport is a made-up sci-fi sport played by royalty. It sounds absolutely insane, I know, but trust me, the world-building is perfectly executed to tell you everything you need to know without getting bogged down with unnecessary exposition. Has an Otayuri-centric sequel.

3. Dear Mama by Ferrero13

In which Victor writes letters to his mother, who is fifty percent of his rationality and self-control.

Wordcount: 30k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: Epistolary format following canon from the perspective of Victor writing back and forth with his mother. Just a very cute and funny insight into Victor's head and heart.

4. How the Mighty Fall (In Love) by braveten

Every Victor Nikiforov fan has three things in common.

1. They have unrealistic expectations for romance. 2. They mark their calendars with the dates of his newest book releases and the premieres of his latest movie adaptations. 3. They either passionately hate or love his greatest rival, a mysterious author whose pseudonym is only two letters: “KY.”

Wordcount: 30k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: Authors AU, just an all-around fun read of meeting, falling, and some hilarious mix-ups and mistakes along the way.

5. My Fun Fact Is: by stillmadaboutpetra

Yuuri fails to mention to his new non-skater friends who he is or who his husband is. Or that he even has a husband.

Wordcount: 6k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: The identity reveal trope is one of my favourites, and this is my favourite fic out of those.

6. Written in the Stars by pheonixwaller

Yuri Katsuki is a scientist aboard a deep space research vessel. Their mission is to chart and study a black hole, but when there's an accident Yuri is forced to abandon ship. Alone and adrift he can only watch as his husband, Phichit, and all their friends are killed. Then, with rescue likely years away, he goes into stasis. Victor Nikiforov is the young captain of an exploration vessel. Known for his charisma it is his job to make first contact and establish friendly relationships with other space-faring societies. But his curiosity is piqued when his crew detects an old distress signal, and finds a lone survivor from a ship lost nearly a hundred years before.

Wordcount: 90k Sex scenes: yes, not plot-essential Additional notes: Far future sci-fi, be prepared for character deaths right at the beginning and grief/mourning throughout. Really well-thought-out sci-fi experience with romance as part of the plot but not the entire focus.

7. Tale of a Sleeping Prince by phoenixwaller

In a world where soulmates exist, but may not be alive at the same time, those born first become "sleepers." They go into self-induced hibernation that can last centuries until their soulmate is of age, and close physical distance. At the age of 12 Yuri Katsuki sees a photo of the living legend, the oldest known sleeper, Victor Nikiforov. It sets in motion a desire to get close to the other man by training to be a caretaker. Eventually he finds himself in Saint Petersburg Russia, ready to work as close to the sleeping man, but as he approaches the Living Legend awakens.

Wordcount: 16k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: I am weak for soulmate AUs and this is a really unique one supported by fantastic worldbuilding.

8. Trust Me, I'm an Alchemist by metisket

In which Yuri Plisetsky began life with the name Edward Elric, and this has made the world of figure skating a significantly stranger and more alarming place. “Are you saying you lived a life of crime before you began skating?” “I’m gonna have to check the statute of limitations on a couple things and get back to you on that.”

Wordcount: 55k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: Crossover with FMA, but knowledge of that canon needed to understand this should be minimal, I think. Focuses on Yurio and is one of the most hilarious fics I have ever read in my life, if you only read one fic from this list let it be this one, you won't regret it.

9. Empty Ice by phoenixwaller

Yuri Katsuki is considering retiring from competitive figure skating after coming in sixth at his first Grand Prix Final, but an accident only days after the final leaves his idol, Victor Nikiforov, in a coma. Grief stricken, Yuri decides to dedicate his season to the fallen skater and throws himself into the sport. He puts everything on the line for three final competitions. Then, dreams shattered, he retires. Adrift, grieving, and unsure of his place in the world Yuri turns to photography and quickly becomes known as one of the best figure skating photographers at competitions. It is this that leads him to the one thing that lends a sense of catharsis: recreating famous photographs of Victor, except in empty ice rinks. However, soon strange artifacts start to appear in his photos, and a presence calling itself Victor attaches itself to him. Yuri is left to wonder if he is going insane or if he's being haunted, and whether the strange artifacts in the photos are at all connected to the comatose skater.

Wordcount: 78k Sex scenes: yes Additional notes: Mind the tags, but trust me, it's worth the weird.

10. Miliy by fangirlandiknowit

Viktor finds himself in a sticky situation – referring to more than the mess in his pants after watching his favorite camboy’s show. In other words, how do you tell a camboy with a celebrity crush on Viktor Nikiforov that you are, in fact, the very man you role play with him as? The answer - you don't.

Wordcount: 66k Sex scenes: several, plot-important Additional notes: Lots of sex scenes (it's a camboy AU, what do you expect) but still manages to pack in an impressive amount of plot, drama, and feels.

11. Lessons in Love by fangirlandiknowit

All Viktor wants is for his son to be happy - and if that means spending countless hours at the ice rink, a million more in the ballet studio, and devotedly cheering for Katsuki Yuuri at every competition he enters, then that is precisely what he'll do. He just didn't expect to become a fan, too. (He didn't expect to fall in love.)

Wordcount: 180k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: Broke: fake dating. Woke: Pining so hard everyone around you is convinced you're already dating. Strikes a great balance between a Victor who takes the important things in his life very seriously and a Victor who is a complete disaster when Yuuri's around. Very sweet, very funny, however you may have to suspend your disbelief regarding the physical and mental development of a ten-year-old.

12. No Storm Can Venture There (orphaned fic)

General Viktor Nikiforov stands, hands in his pockets, facing the man he so desperately needs on his side. "We've got four Jaegers and we're missing a pilot," he states. Pauses. The silence stretches, pulled at both ends by both stubborn wills. Finally- "You know I won't," former Ranger Yuuri Katsuki starts, turning his gaze aside, standing, shoulders tense, "can't." Viktor closes the distance. "Of course you don't think you can when you've been hiding from the possibility."

Wordcount: 180k Sex scenes: Otayuri glimpsed only briefly Additional notes: Going in, this fic starts off seeming like a beat-for-beat Pacific Rim rewrite with YOI characters. If you give it a chance, however, it is very much not, and goes further and further away as the story progresses. Very much a wild ride.

13. you're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be by roserelease

More than anything, Yuuri wants to impress his cosplay role model Viktor Nikiforov, aka Nike Cosplay. But after a horrible start to a convention weekend, he panics and backs out at the last second to meet his idol. Normally this would be fine, except Yuuri discovers too late that there's a little Viktor related secret inside the con vlog his best friend filmed over the course of the weekend for him... It's fine, he thinks. Embarrassing, but not the end of the world. And it's not like Viktor himself will ever see the con vlog, so why worry? (Except for when one fateful, lonely night, Viktor does.)

Wordcount: 200k Sex scenes: yes Additional tags: Be very mindful of the tags, while being a very positive story overall this one does touch on some heavy subjects and the second installment in the series even more so. Fourth installment is in progress and last updated Jan 15, 2024 at time of writing.

14. empty spaces between stars by astudyinrose

Victor gets just as drunk as Yuuri at the Sochi Banquet, and they disappear together after the dance-offs. They wake up the morning after with rings on their fingers, and pictures of them kissing after getting married the night before are all over the tabloids… but neither of them remembers a thing. They decide to stay married for a while for the sake of Victor's sponsorships, and in exchange, Victor coaches Yuuri through nationals…

Wordcount: 225k Sex scenes: yes Additional notes: Be mindful of the tags again for this one, otherwise a nice juicy slowburn of relationship development.

15. The Coin, The Stone, & The Rose by Silver_Scribbles

Crown Prince Viktor Nikiforov once had the world at his fingertips; he was rich and powerful and handsome, and he had everything his heart desired. Now, he is a Beast, imprisoned by an Enchantress' spell; hiding away from the world in the never-ending winter of his shame. Katsuki Yuuri is . . . odd, to say the least. Beautiful, but odd. While the rest of the villagers put one foot firmly in front of the other, Yuuri would rather loose himself to his dancing and his daydreams; always wishing for something more than his provincial life. Each is captive to circumstances beyond their control; trapped by unbreakable spells and impossible dreams. However, an unlikely meeting is about to change everything. Hope makes a final play for their salvation as the sands of time run out; but as Yuuri and Viktor learn to find themselves in one another, they also make discoveries that they're completely unprepared for . . . some wondrous, some wretched . . . and some treacherous enough to permanently tear them apart. For who could ever learn to love a Beast?

Wordcount: 270k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: While the first chapter is a well-executed tribute to disney's Beauty and the Beast, this is very much its own story that takes some of the basic elements and creates something entirely new and suited to the characters. Be advised that as the story progresses it does get a bit darker and heavier in some ways that aren't tagged for such as blackmail, forced marriage, and violence, but it does end happily.

16. The Rules for Lovers by ADreamingSongbird

Prince Yuuri Katsuki has a duty to his country, above all else (his desires, his dreams, and his happiness included), and he knows this alliance will help to ensure the safety of his people. That’s the only reason he accepts Prince Nikiforov’s hand in marriage. The pleasant surprise, of course, is the part where they fall in love along the way. The unpleasant one, well… That’s a long story.

Wordcount: 325k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: Fascinating AU mixing not just royalty but magic, with a background world that diverged from our own. Does take the realities of court politics and political intrigue seriously and gets fairly dark at points, so approach with some caution.

17. Let Me Fall For You by HuntressFirefall

Victor Nikiforov was on his way to becoming a Living Legend in the sport of figure skating. After hitting his stride and winning back-to-back World Championships, the sport's biggest star was the overwhelming favorite to win gold in his third Olympics on home ice in Sochi, Russia. But when Yuri Katsuki pulls off the upset victory in Sochi at the young age of 21 and takes the gold, Victor begins to see his world and the people in it in a very different light -- and it turns out they see him differently as well. No longer knowing who he can rely on and finding he didn't know those close to him as well as he thought, when his skating career falters Victor makes a shocking choice that turns his world upside down in ways he did -- and didn't -- expect.

Wordcount: 400k Sex scenes: yes Additional notes: Takes a very serious look at the pressures of high-level skating and the consequences of that. The heavy emotions lead to the ending being satisfying beyond belief.

18. The Nature of Things by Zombubble

Lonely, tired, and stuck in Detroit for two months due to competitions, Viktor Nikiforov decides he's staying. He's not sure what he expects to find, but it's certainly not love, and he certainly doesn't expect it to come in the form of the World's Cutest Barista. But when the pressure of his career threatens to strain his burgeoning relationship, and long-held secrets come into the light, he finds his love tested in ways he'd never anticipated, with life-changing results.

Wordcount: 465k Sex scenes: None that I can recall Additional notes: What starts off looking like a meet-cute with skater!Victor and barista!Yuuri turns far more complex and serious when Yuuri turns out to be secret royalty. Long, emotion-heavy, and just touching on some of the darker facets of court reality.

19. All Our Yesterdays by Kitsunebi_UK

York, England, 2120: Yuuri Katsuki is a dime-a-dozen techie, spending his days doing routine repairs at the university. He hangs out with his friend Phichit, goes for a drink, watches holograms. It’s an existence – but is it a life? Crowood Castle, Yorkshire, 1392: As the son of a baron, Sir Victor Nikiforov makes judgements where lives hang in the balance. As a knight, he must sometimes end them. It’s what he was born to do – but what of the heavy burden on his soul? Death is all too commonplace, while life and love remain elusive. When a brilliant scientist goes rogue, journeying to the Middle Ages with the world’s first time machine, Yuuri is stunned to be called on as the last hope of preventing her from changing history. After an abrupt departure, he lands at Crowood Castle disguised as an enemy of the Nikiforovs, Sir Justin le Savage – and will need to act the part if he is to survive. It’s a tall order for someone who can barely tell the back end of a horse from the front. But if Ailis, in her own disguise, discovers who he is, his mission will end in a blaze of laser-gun fire. He must not give his real identity away, even to the beguiling knight he’s falling in love with…

Wordcount: 1.02 million Sex scenes: yes Additional notes: A wild ride from start to finish, with truly exceptional attention to detail in creating a believable future and a realistic past, plus some scarily believable worldbuilding for the time periods in between. Expect period-typical violence for all eras that come into play. Does get downright heartbreaking near the end, but hang in there, they do get their happy ending, I promise.

20. Equivalent Exchange by writingfromtheshadows

Without the Katsuki line to protect and maintain the laws of magic, Great Mages have become so few and far between that many believe the age of magic is coming to an end. However, when he comes across a young man weaving tales with figures of fire, Viktor begins to wonder if magic is truly dead, or if it lives on in the body of the storyteller with warm brown eyes.

Wordcount: 200k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: Wonderfully constructed fantasy setting, intriguing magic system, and an intense plot bringing it all together.

21. When the World Stops... by Miled

When an injury sidelines Viktor from competing as a skater, Yakov encourages him to take up coaching even if he kind of sucks at it. On the other hand, Yuuri is absolutely devastated that he can no longer strive to compete with his inspiration. Instead of giving it up, he dedicates one last season to honoring Viktor's career...but then Viktor takes notice.

Wordcount: 200k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: Just a really interesting what if possibility!

22. L'ultima volta by goodbye_blue

“Hey, Mila,” Viktor looked up at her, bleary-eyed. “You don’t know any theoretical physicists, do you?” “…No?” She replied hesitantly. Yakov had seen enough. “What the hell are you doing?!” He stormed, rounding the table. Oh no, he thought when he saw the video. His stomach sank a little. It was that Japanese skater, Katsuki. The dark horse who had just demolished the competition at Skate America.

Yuuri and Viktor find themselves years in the past, right at the start of the fateful season where they first met. Now, if only they could figure out whether they’ve come back alone.

Wordcount: 25k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: They're idiots, your honour.

23. eternity will be born from hope by vivi_writ3s

On the tail-end of being dropped by his junior coach mid-season, Yuuri Katsuki is hit by a car and realises the universe must have a sick pleasure in fucking him over. Or; Twenty-nine year old Yuuri wakes up in his seventeen-year old body and decides fuck it, if the universe decided to screw with him, he’s going to screw back.

IN PROGRESS Additional notes: This is the beginning of a rewrite of a fic by the same name and author that they decided to alter because they realized they went OOC for Victor's age in the story. The pre-rewite version is still up as the first fic in the series and is absolutely worth reading as is (there are several scenes I go back to regularly).

[take-the-hidden-paths]

HIDDEN PATHS: A Celebration of the Smaller Tolkien Canons

Hello, and welcome to Hidden Paths, a fortnight-long event dedicated to the celebration of smaller Tolkien canons!

We all know and love the tales of Tolkien's Middle-earth, but the Professor's creative and academic endeavours didn't stop there.  However, fanworks for smaller Tolkien canons (such as Farmer Giles of Ham, Mr. Bliss, Leaf by Niggle and more) are much rarer than works inspired by their Middle-earth counterparts.  This event was created to be a low-pressure, low-commitment opportunity to explore those lesser known works, and create and share fanworks based on them.

Define “smaller Tolkien fandoms”. 

Basically, any Tolkien canon or text (including academic works and translations) that is not explicitly set in Middle-earth and is not based on The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, or The Silmarillion and closely related histories.  This includes, but is not limited to:

Beowulf/Sellic Spell

Farmer Giles of Ham

The Fall of Arthur

The Father Christmas Letters

Finn and Hengest

The Homecoming of Beorhtnoth Beorhthelm's Son

The Lay of Aotrou and Itroun

Leaf by Niggle

The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrún

Mr. Bliss

Mythopoeia

The Notion Club Papers

Pearl

Roverandom

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

Sir Orfeo

Songs for the Philologists

Smith of Wootton Major

The Story of Kullervo

Tolkien (2019 film)

Tolkien's essays, poems, letters and non-ME artwork

We also accept fanworks based on The Adventures of Tom Bombadil (because it collects a number of poems that were not originally intended as part of the Middle-earth canon) and The Book of Lost Tales (because it differs so significantly from later versions of the legendarium), and/or centring characters or concepts that only appear in extremely early drafts of The Lord of the Rings (e.g. Trotter).  

We know that this leaves a bit of a grey area, but ultimately, we will trust and accept the judgement of fanwork creators.  Act in good faith, and assume that others have done the same. 

How does it work? 

At the start of the event (14th February) the mod will post seven optional prompts to inspire you.  There will be a thematic prompt, a character-based prompt, a setting-based prompt, a text prompt, a visual prompt, an audio prompt, and a wildcard prompt.  A second batch of prompts will be posted on the 21st. 

If you like the prompts, then use any or all of them to create and share a fanwork based on one or more small Tolkien canons.  If they don't speak to you, then please feel free to do your own thing – the prompts are there to spark creativity, not impede it! 

What types of fanworks do you accept? 

Anything you like.  Fic, poetry, meta, art, edits, vids, podfic, craft, cosplay, rec lists, playlists, compositions, interviews with fellow fans...it's all good. 

Are there any minimum requirements? 

No, none.  Want to write a six-word story?  Be our guest. 

Are crossovers permitted? 

Yes!  We accept crossovers with the Middle-earth canons, and with non-Tolkien fandoms.  We only ask that one of the smaller Tolkien canons plays a significant role in your fanwork. 

What do you consider a significant role? 

We don't.  The event is intended to be low commitment and low stress for both participants and the moderator, and we trust that people will act in good faith.  We are not going to police fanworks or apply an arbitrary definition of “significant” - we leave that up to the creator to decide. 

Does actor RPF count? 

For the purposes of this event, no it doesn't, unless you are also drawing on elements from a smaller canon (e.g. Liv Tyler encountering the Shadow-Bride).

Where do I post my fanworks? 

We have an AO3 collection, but you may post your fanworks anywhere you like.  We'd appreciate a link back to our Dreamwidth or Tumblr page, though, to spread the word about the event! 

Are there any restrictions on rating or content? 

Nope.  Tag and warn appropriately, as you normally would, but make whatever your heart desires. 

Can I post fanworks that were inspired by or created for another event, or created prior to the event's inception? 

Yes!  The goal is to celebrate and increase content for the smaller Tolkien fandoms.  Please feel free to share your creations and add them to the collection, regardless of whether they were created specifically for this event. 

I want to take part but I don't know anything about the smaller canons.  Help!?

Tolkien Gateway has helpfully collated a list of Tolkien's writings, and some of the articles reproduce or link to the actual text.  This is a great place to start browsing, and to find out more about a text before you invest in your own copy.

Have a look at fanworks for some of the smaller canons and see what appeals.  Innumerable Stars and TRSB both have several works for the smaller canons in their collections, and many of them can be understood with no prior knowledge of the source material.

Lists of characters appearing in the various texts and canons can also be a useful jumping off point - like this one for The Book of Lost Tales.

Many of the smaller canons are just that - small!  If you can get hold of a copy from your local library, book store or from a fellow fan, they are generally quick to read and digest.

If anyone has any other ideas and resources for folks wanting to dip a toe into the smaller canons, please get in touch so they can be added to this list. 

When does the event run? 

Officially, February 14th-28th.  Unofficially, as long as you like; the prompts will stay up and the AO3 collection won't close.