#gold standard of fanfiction

[collophora]

Do yourself a favor and go read the entire fanfic work of @fanfoolishness

(In order: Under sun and shade, Blind Side, and Breathless (patching up is one of my fav too, I just had no cool sketch idea for it)

[knifeforkspooncup]

Petition to change our mental narrative around fanfiction.

Instead of thinking "man, this fanfiction is better than most published novels."

I will now be thinking "jeez, this published novel is good enough to be fanfiction."

[aurorawest]

So here’s a marketing trend I’ve noticed lately in publishing - “Reads like the best of fanfiction!”

And like, I see what they’re doing here. We know people read—they read fanfiction! A lot of authors currently publishing probably got their start writing fanfiction! Yay fanfiction!

Except trying to market to this group of people who read primarily fanfiction? Yeah, pretty sure that isn’t going to work. People who only read fanfiction aren’t interested in reading published fiction, and if you spend an hour on tumblr you can find the posts proving it. “Published fiction doesn’t explore characters the way fanfiction does!” “Published fiction doesn’t have queer characters!” “Published fiction is all written by cishet white men!”

Yeah, tell me you haven’t read a book since your English teacher assigned Tom Sawyer without telling me you haven’t read a book since your English teacher assigned Tom Sawyer.

Also it’s weirdly backwards. Like. Don’t you guys mean, the best fanfiction reads like published fiction? Clearly they can influence each other—many of the best books I’ve read lately contain tropes that are very very common in fanfiction, and they’re being utilized in a way that I can just tell is coming from an author who wrote fic and is possibly still writing it.

Anyway, you’re not going to to get the AO3 only crowd to buy books, so maybe stop marketing books this way.

[wayward-dreamer]

GODDDD I AM SO NOT OKAY I AM SO NOT WELL

Literally NEED ALL OF THIS IRL PLEASE UNIVERSE

I didn’t know how to continue with my day after reading this and I still don’t

a new side of me - e.m.

part 2 to this, smut, MDNI, 18+only, fem!reader, friends to lovers, spanking, fingering

my masterlist || Ao3 || beta'd by my lovely @wayward-dreamer, @writercole, and @evergreencowboy (this one is for you, miss girl)

“Uhhhhmmmm�� is all you can say at first. It feels like your brain is short-circuiting for a few seconds, cause yeah, you’d been hoping that Eddie would reciprocate your feelings, but nothing had prepared you for what he’s saying right now with you on his lap. 

You swallow and try to weigh the pros and cons of each option, since Eddie’s staring you down, waiting for an answer with this cocky-ass smirk on his face. You’re well-aware you’re not particularly talented at controlling your own orgasm, and you know if you were to choose the getting-off-on-his-leg-but-he-controls-when option, it probably wouldn’t go well. Which leaves one option. 

Taking a spanking. A spanking? From your best friend? Holy shit, were you really about to say this out-fucking-loud? 

“Uhhhh,” you say again, ‘cause sure, you’re normally fearless — totally at ease, especially with Eddie, but only someone incapable of feeling anything at all would be calm at this moment. “I guess… the first one…” you mutter, and your voice kinda trails off.

“Hmm?” Eddie says, cupping his ear like he didn’t hear you, when you know damn well he did. “What was that, princess?”

“I said, the first one,” you grit your teeth and force the words out, absolutely refusing to look him in the eye, but you really should’ve known that wouldn’t fly.

“No, no,” he practically scolds you. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“Edddieeee,” you whine, already humiliated, not to mention horny as fuck — plus confused as to why you’re enjoying him embarrassing you so much. “C’monnn, I don’t wanna…” 

“You can tap out at any time,” he reminds you, “but if there’s any part of you that wants this to continue,” he pauses for dramatic effect, “you’re gonna hafta say it.”

“Ughhhh,” you groan, but god, curse your inability to resist him. “Fine, I — I… want you to… spank me.” 

Eddie smirks, and you roll your eyes big time. You’re staring at the ceiling when his hand grips your jaw, and suddenly, you’re looking right into his eyes. He holds you there, his fingers tapping your cheeks harshly whenever you dare to look away from him. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that, hmm…” He phrases it like a question, but there’s no hint of it in his tone. Sprawled on the couch — you in his lap — he exudes confidence, like he’s done this a million times, and even though you know him better than almost anyone, you can’t help but question if he’s got a hobby on the side that he’s failed to mention to you. “Thought you were smarter than that, Y/N. Thought you knew better than to get snarky with me.”

You shouldn’t say anything. God, you shouldn’t say anything. He’s clearly getting off on this, and anything you could possibly say would almost definitely make it worse for you. “It’s never hurt me before,” you sass, willingly looking him in the eye now.

“Oh-ho-ho,” Eddie laughs and hooks his arm around your waist. “That’s an interesting choice of words, darling, ‘cause it’s sure as hell about to hurt you now.” 

Before you even have time to think a response, his other hand finds your hip, and suddenly, you’re face to face with the couch cushions. You let out a squeal as he practically manhandles you, moving your hips this way and that until you’re situated flat across his lap. Your elbows press into the seat of the couch — the only things keeping you from face-planting into the cushions — and your ass is propped in the air, held there by Eddie’s knee underneath it. 

Now you really feel like a naughty child, and the feeling only heightens when Eddie rubs his hands over the globes of your ass. It takes everything in you not to let out a whine, but you pinch your mouth closed, and the sound sticks in your throat. Maybe Eddie notices, because he chuckles darkly, but when you swallow nervously, he pauses, his tone softening slightly, “You sure?”

You nod.

“Good.” A pause, and a silence. You sit quietly, holding your breath, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

Smack! You jolt a little as the first hit lands on the soft skin of your ass. The hit isn’t very hard at all, but an embarrassing squeak escapes your lips before you’re able to press them together. You pray that somehow Eddie didn’t hear that, but he does, of course, and he lets you know with a scoff. “Oh, Y/N, I barely tapped you. You talk a lot for someone so sensitive.”

You blush at his words, and turn your head towards the rest of the room, pressing your cheek into the couch cushion, so Eddie can’t see the rosy flush of your skin. “Didn’t hurt,” you mumble, knowing you’ll probably regret saying anything at all soon. “Just surprised me.”

“Oh, it just surprised you?” Eddie mimics your tone with just a hint of sass. “Well, in that case, maybe I’ll need to use a little more force than I thought, hmm?”

You don’t respond, and it’s just as well, because Eddie’s hand comes down again with a distinctly louder Smack! You jerk again as it lands, definitely harder this time, and you tuck your mouth into the crook of your elbow, a preventative measure to avoid giving him anymore opportunities to point out how weak you are for him. 

“Nothing to say now?” Eddie muses. “That’s a good girl.” He rubs out the sting with a big flat palm and runs his other hand gently down your spine until a little of the tension starts to melt from your body. You’re almost ashamed at how easily his praise and soothing touches calm you, but he doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it before —

Smack! Smack! Smack!

His three hits get firmer in succession, and even though they happen quickly, your legs can’t help but kick up by the third. 

“Ow!” You squeal, instinctively trying to crawl off of his lap. “Eddie!” But Eddie just clamps his arm around your waist and lets you struggle until you decide to be still. “That fucking hurt,” you whine, looking back at him.

“It’s supposed to,” Eddie says, raising his eyebrows at you in faux-shock. You pout at him, but lay back down, determined to wait it out. Surely, he wouldn’t spank you for that long. 

Resting your head on your folded arms, you bite down gently on the skin of your bicep. It helps to muffle the growing squeals and cries that threaten to escape your mouth every time, but between the swats that Eddie’s raining down getting both harder and faster, soon even that isn’t enough to stop your noises.

Smack! “Eddie, please!” The hits are becoming unbearable, and yet, you know you’ve never been wetter in your life. You can feel your own juices start to roll down the inside of your thighs, and you desperately want to press your thighs tight together. But Eddie has different ideas. That fucker. 

You squeeze your thighs together, smushing and spreading the slick over your rapidly heating skin, for a few seconds at most before Eddie lands a hard, well-placed slap to the backs of your thighs. He wrenches your legs open just enough so that you’re unable to gain any friction where you need it most. 

“Ah!” You cry out as Eddie drags a single digit just barely through your folds, gathering some of your juices on the tip of his finger. 

“Look at you,” Eddie tuts with a shit-eating grin. “Just dripping. And all from getting your ass spanked by your best friend? Whatta naughty girl.” He loudly sucks his finger clean. “Oh, but you taste so good, baby.”

Baby. The use of the pet name instantly puts you more at ease, and you let your body melt into Eddie’s lap again, basking in his words, despite how red your face had become hearing them.

True to form, Eddie doesn’t let you relax for long. He uses his thumbs to spread your cheeks up and out just slightly, before blowing gently on your wet cunt. “Ooh, fuck!” Your head whips around in shock. Your eyes meet Eddie’s as he raises a cocky brow to go along with his still-pursed lips. The cold air continues, and you’re entirely at his mercy — not that you weren’t before, but his grip on your ass is stronger than you expected. And something about being entirely exposed to him makes you whimper and squirm.

He taps your folds gently with two fingers before letting your cheeks fall back into place, groaning at the way they jiggle. “Mmm, your pussy is just as pretty as I imagined, Y/N. Can’t wait to sink my fingers into that.”

“Mmm,” you whine and wiggle. “Yeah? Please?”

“Oh, that’s something you’re interested in, hmm?”

You nod furiously, all pride and embarrassment forgotten. 

“Uh-uh, ask nicely, Y/N,” Eddie scolds gently, hands roaming over your still-burning ass. 

“Please, touch me, Eddie. Want it so bad,” you whine, breathless.

“That’s a good girl,” Eddie breathes, trailing his fingers up your spine. “I’m gonna spank you five more times, and this time you’re gonna count. If you can stay still and keep count for me, then I’m gonna make you come, hmm?”

“Yes, Eddie.”

“Good,” he gives your ass a few firm taps. “Ready, sweets?”

You nod, resting your chin back on your folded arms and bracing yourself for his hand.

Silence hangs in the air, and then — Smack!

“One!” You yelp, your feet kicking up at the force behind the hit. That was definitely one of the harder ones. You set your jaw and prepare for the ones to come. 

Smack! “Oww, two, Eddie!” You cry out, feeling tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. You sniffle, and Eddie rubs a little of the pain away with his open palm, before taking his hands away. You’re waiting again.

SMACK! 

“Fuck! Three!” That was the hardest hit yet, and the tears you’d been trying so hard to hold back start to spill over as your breath turns to gasps. Shit, it hurt, and yet, there was definitely more than a hint of pleasure mixed in with the pain. You wonder how Eddie had known you’d like this when you didn’t even know it yourself.

“Two more, princess,” Eddie says, softly running his hand through your hair. “You’re doing so good for me.” 

You nod sniffling. God, you can’t wait to come. You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to release without ever being touched.

Eddie rubs and kneads your pretty, cherry-red ass, and just from your breathing, he knows you’ll need a release soon, so he takes pity on you. 

Smack! SMACK! He finishes the last two pops off quick and hard. A cry forces its way from your mouth as you gasp, “Four, Five!” Your hand flies back to your bruised cheeks, and you rub the skin in a pathetic attempt to ease the sting. 

Eddie wipes the tear tracks away from your face and hushes you gently, “Shh, shh, it’s okay, baby. No more. No more. You did so good for me. Who knew you had it in you, hmm?”

“In me?” You hiccup out the question, not entirely sure what he means.

“Yeahh,” he coos softly, effectively calming your little tremors. “My best girl— a secret slut, aren’tcha? Who knew you were so kinky, Y/N?”

You sniff and giggle, hiding your face in your arms again. Eddie chuckles too, and you stick your ass up and shake it a little in a silent request. You’re determined not to give him another reason to spank you again, but you’ve never been this turned on in your life. 

“Please?” You ask him in a small voice, opening your legs just enough to get his attention.

“Ahh, my sweet girl wants to come, is that it, baby?” Eddie coaxes you into a sitting position so he can look at you. He desperately needs to see your face for this part. You hiss and whine at the touch of the denim on your sore bottom, so he settles you so you’re leaning against the arm and couch cushions with your legs spread open to him.

He hums appreciatively at the way your pussy glistens. “Mmm, look at you all spread out for me. So pretty, sweets. Lean forward for me— let’s take this off.” He tugs at the cropped tee you’d forgotten you were still wearing. You let him take it over your head, and he groans again at your lack of a bra.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re incredible.” Eddie’s eyes traverse your body, now completely bare to him, and you squirm, trying to resist the urge to cover yourself. He seems to notice your hesitance and presses gentle kisses to the insides of your bent knees. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, catching your jaw with a gentle hand so that you’re forced to look him in the eye. “I’m serious. I’ve wanted you from the second we met.”

“Really?” You ask him. He nods, “Yeah, have you seen you? You’re sexy as fuck!”

You laugh at his facial expression and relax into his touch. This was Eddie, your best friend. Any self-consciousness you’d developed melts away. “Now,” you demand. “I believe I was promised a reward?”

“Oh, excuse me,” Eddie barks out a laugh. “I didn’t know you were suddenly in charge. Oh, wait,” he raises his eyebrow at you, “you aren’t…” He lets the silence linger, “But I did promise to make you come for takin’ that spanking like a champ, so you better hang on for this.”

You swallow hard at his devilish grin, and then he’s kissing you. A perfect mix between soft and hard, sensual, and oh God, he tastes like the weed he’d probably been smoking earlier that day. And for some reason, you like the taste. You don’t even smoke, but maybe because it’s just so very Eddie.

You kiss him back, and he takes advantage of the parting of your lips to slip his tongue inside. Naturally, you resist letting him take charge, but that doesn’t last long. Clearly, Eddie’s tongue is good for more than yammering on about his latest DnD campaign, and it’s for that reason only that you submit to him with a sigh.

“Mmm,” he moans into your mouth, his hands inching down from where they’re softly cupping your face. He palms your tits, catching and rolling your nipples in between his fingers. You arch up into his hands, and God, is he anxious to make you repeat that. Eddie breaks the kiss gently to press tiny pecks along your jaw and down your neck. You whine, chasing his mouth with yours. You just wanna taste him again so badly, and he chuckles softly at your neediness, pausing to suck a hickey into the skin where your neck meets your shoulder.

“C’mon, baby,” he whispers against your ear. “Thought you wanted to come so fucking badly?”

He’s teasing you, and you know it, but you hadn’t realized you’d love running your nails down his back this much, and kissing him is infinitely better than you imagined — but the heat in your core is aching, and fuck, you want him there too.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you breathe. “Fuck— need you so fucking bad. Please, fuck me, please— Eds, want your cock so bad.”

Eddie inhales sharply at your words, like he wasn’t expecting that from you, but he ruts harder against your naked folds, groaning at the momentary relief. “F-fuck, princess — shit, you really want that?”

You nod frantically into his hair, nails scrambling down his back as his thumb finds and begins to circle your clit slowly. Eddie’s panting now too, “Next time, baby — n-next time, I promise. God, I wanna fuck you so bad, but just — just let me take care of you tonight, ‘kay? Okay, sweet girl?”

“Yes, Eddie,” you don’t fight him on it. His fingers feel too damn good, trailing down to your still-weeping entrance, “Shit, right there— please!”

“Yeah? Gonna let me fuck you on my fingers, hmm?” Eddie sinks a single digit into you, and it slides in with no resistance, along with a second. “Shit — you’re so tight, pretty girl. Must be fucking close already, aren’tcha?”

“Yeah, yes, ‘m so fuckin’ close,” you practically sob with relief as he pumps his fingers in and out, curving and pressing the spot that has tears tracing back down your cheeks. He thumbs your clit with a matching rhythm, and you arch again into his hand. Your hips match the pace he sets until you’re humping his hand.

Eddie tosses his head back with a groan at the sight. This was so much better than his fantasy. “I gotcha, you’re so good f’me. Jesus, that’s a girl. You just come whenever, sweets.”

You were so close already, but his rambling praise is sending you hurtling towards the edge faster than you thought possible. “M’gonna— Eddie, m’gonna— come—”

“That’s it, baby. That’s it. Come for me, Y/N,” Eddie gasps into your neck, and thank God, keeps his rhythm constant. 

Stars are appearing on the edge of your vision, you feel the coil snap, and you’re coming with a scream “EDDIE— shit! Fuck— ohmygoddd—” you’re seeing white and feeling nothing. Except him. 

Eddie engulfs you in his arms and is grunting along with you, “Yessss, good girl. That’s my baby. So sexy, Y/N. God.”

He gently pumps his fingers until your walls stop clenching around them, and your vision stops spinning. He only slowly pulls them out when you’ve flopped back against the couch cushions, and your breathing evens out again.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you say, lifting your head to look at him. Only then, do you realize he’s 1) still fully clothed and 2) palming his obviously-painfully hard cock through the crotch of his jeans.

“Shit, c’mere, Eds,” you motion him forward just a bit from where he’s sat back on his heels. He inches closer, and you waste no time in undoing his belt buckle and jeans and pulling out his cock.

“S’okay,” he’s insisting, his cheeks still flushed from his efforts to get you off. “I can just go fix it in the bathroom…” 

But you’ve already wrapped a hand around him and pulled him into another searing kiss. “Shut the fuck up, Eds. Want you to come on my tits,” you say against his ear.

Eddie pulls back, looking at you like you’ve read his goddamn mind. He yanks his shirt off too and pushes his jeans and boxers halfway down his thighs, “Shit, y-yeah, okay.”

You smirk at his lack of protest, leaning back and pressing your tits together for him. “You’re so fucking hot, Eddie. Always fuckin’ loved those tattoos—” 

Eddie’s kneeling, hovering over you, one hand supporting his weight beside your head on the arm of the couch. He spits into his palm, spreading the mixture of saliva and pre-cum over his length. Shit, he’s huge. You can’t wait to get him inside you. Next time. 

His rings are flashing as he pumps his hand over his dick, paying special attention to the flared, velvety head, and you take mental notes for the future. Eddie moans at the sight of you spread out all pretty for him, and you answer, groaning at the wrecked expression on his face. 

“Come for me, baby,” you murmur to him, looking up at him from under thick lashes. “Wanna see you all over me, need it so bad.”

“Uh…huh…” Eddie pants with the rhythm of his palm. “Fuck, baby. Shit— I’m gonna, gonna—” He comes with a loud grunt, hand still pumping as his cock shoots thick ropes of cum from your collarbone down to your naval. His eyes stay fixated on you the entire time, watching his come splatter across your soft skin. “Fuckkk,” he rasps, breathing hard as he comes down from his high. “Shit, princess. My cum looks even better on you than I thought.”

You laugh at the goofy grin on his face, and he laughs too, dropping a kiss on your forehead before getting up and sauntering off, now butt-ass naked. “Eddie?” you ask confused, as he turns down the hallway. “Where’re you going?”

“Stay right there,” he calls back to you over his shoulder.

He’s back in a few seconds with a washcloth. “Oh,” you hum, relaxing. “That’s sweet.”

Eddie mops his spunk off your abdomen with the cloth he’s wet with warm water, cracking on of his trademark smirks. “What, you thought I was just gonna leave you here like this?” He snorts at the idea, and you smack him lightly on the arm.

“No!” you defend yourself laughing. “I just didn’t know where you were going! Shut up—”

He shuts you up instead by dropping the washcloth to the floor and pressing a kiss to your lips. Not needy or aggressive, like some of his other kisses, just— perfect.

You blink as he pulls away, giggling, “What, you think that’s how you’re gonna keep me from talking now?”

Eddie’s not giggling though, just smiling softly, a much tenderer look in his eyes now, “Yeah, I do think that. If that’s okay with you? That– I keep doing that, I mean.”

He’s serious. You huff out a laugh of relief, “Yeah, Eds. It’s more than okay with me if you ‘keep doing that.’ If that’s your way of asking me out, that is.”

Eddie nods immediately, before you’ve even finished talking, “Yeah, yeah. Sorry— yeah, that’s what I mean. I wanna go out with you.” His brown doe eyes look hopeful, and it’s all you can do to answer him with words, instead of kissing him again.

“Yes,” you smile, “I’ll go out with you.” He breathes a sigh of relief, and then, you kiss him again. “You did just spank the shit outta me, y’know? I think it’d be weird if I didn’t wanna go out with you.”

“Well,” he says primly, shaking his hair back from his face. “I didn’t want to assume.”

“You didn’t wanna—” you laugh aloud at his ridiculousness. “Just shut up and hold me.”

Eddie ducks his head in a mock bow at your demand, “As you wish, milady.”

He gathers you into his lap, and you rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and inhaling his scent. He pulls the blanket from the back of the couch over you both, and squeezes you tight. You can’t help but think about how this happened. Seducing Eddie actually worked.

Tags (if you're crossed out, i couldn't tag you!)

Forevers: @evergreencowboy  @deanwanddamons @katelyn--renee @lassie-bird @jensengirl83 @superfanficnatural @wayward-dreamer @that-one-gay-girll @writercole @flamencodiva

Stranger Things: @lukearsehemmings @mooffinsstories

Eddie Munson: @dixontardis @wherezavery @thatkattdraws

join my tag list here!

[weird-obsessed-girl]

Bagginshield Fic Rec

I can’t believe I’ve had such an intense revival into The Hobbit Fandom after being obsessed with the movies when they came out just over 10 years ago now. There’s just some fandoms that have consistently amazing fanfics that are written beautifully and with such interesting concepts.

Some of these are a bit silly and cracky but i think that’s the appeal of The Hobbit, it’s a bit more cheerful than LOTR (vehemently ignoring Battle of the Five Armies)

So below is a list of fics I have loved reading organised by word count smallest to largest.

If you have any fics that you’ve read and don’t see here please share them with me! P.S, if you need more fics to read after these please check out the author’s other works.

Fanfiction Title - Author

Tags, description of fic | word count | rating

And Down the Road I Goes - pibroch (littleblackdog)

Kid!fic, mpreg, humour, dwobbits, beard problems | 1.3k | T

All That Glitters - BeautifulFiction

Everyone lives, post-BAFTA, Dwarven culture and customs, Dwarven jewellery | 1.5k | G

Truth - alkjira

Body image issues, post-BAFTA, everybody lives, Dwarven beauty standards | 1.9k | T

Brethren, Braids and a Bothersome Burglar - Frankensteins_Monster

Unintentional Dwarven courting, and then intentional after communication is cleared up, Hair Braiding | 2.3k | T

There is A Child - smileybagel

Foresight, canonical character death, Thorin POV | 2.7k | T

Of the King and Consort’s Portraits - undomiel (dolcewrites)

Cultural differences, painting portraits, Erebor and Shire Parallels, domestic fluff | 3.4K | T

Shorn - Avelera

Mourning ritual, Dwarf culture and customs, misunderstandings, pre-slash, Long-beards mentioned! 3.5k | G

A Chance to Make It Right - smileybagel

Thorin is offered a second chance, magical dreams of future children, second part to “There is A Child” | 3.6k | G

The Proper Way To Call You Mine - Fantasyinallforms

Hair braiding, post-BAFTA, misunderstandings, Fili and Kili meddling, getting together, jealous Thorin | 3.6k | T

And in our love u see golden things - Seungshi03

Goldsickness as a mental health condition, domestic fluff, consort Bilbo | 3.7k | G

Riddles in the Dark Brought into the Light - Lucigoo89

Everyone lives, post-BAFTA, PTSD, loooove fics where the trauma from the journey is included, background Dwalin/Nori | 3.8k | G

In More than the Wisdom of Years - jezebel_rising

Dis POV, everyone lives, reunions, Dis and Bilbo friendship | 4.2k | Not rated

A Dwarven Beauty - bevel_bee

Dwarven beauty standards, Bilbo is considered very attractive, but he’s very oblivious to the compliments, post-BAFTA | 4.6k | G

The Seven Gifts - snowmissus (soul_of_blaze)

Dwarf and hobbit courting, awkwardness, Bilbo remains in Erebor, miscommunication | 5.1k | G

The Stone’s Gift - SilverSkiesAtMidnight

Established relationship, consort Bilbo, “the Dwarven equivalent of cabbage patch hobbits”, dwarves made from literal stone, unplanned pregnancy | 5.2k | T

One Remedy for Gold Sickness (or maybe two) - randi2204

Bilbo uses an ancient hobbit remedy for greedy folks, flabbergasted dwarves | 5.8k | T * need to have an Ao3 account

Better an ugly face than an ugly mind - unpeumacabre

Dwarven beauty standards (and hobbit ones), Thorin POV | 6.1k | T

A Minor Problem - fideliant

Smut, thorin finds out Bilbo’s age, obliviousness to different species’ life expectancies | 6.4K | E

Bruises on the Heart - thehufflepuffhobbit

5 + 1 times, soulmate au, Thorin POV, bruises, sharing a bed, during the journey | 7.8k | E

Clue-finder - TheGrayKnight

Post-BAFTA, Dwarven courting, cultural differences | 9k | G

Queen Under the Mountain - benny_Laur

Character death (not really), Dis POV, I LOVE DIS, Requited love, Kili definitely should not be in charge of communications | 11k | Not rating

Call You Home - northerntrash

Hobbit culture, including hidden names (I like the hobbit side as it’s a popular trope that dwarves have hidden names), Thorin’s puppy-eyes, the company | 11.9K | Not rated

Planting a Hobbit - northerntrash

Everyone lives, post-BAFTA, homesickness, domestic fluff, Thorin builds Bilbo a garden trope! 13k | Not rated

Forget-Me-Not - kerkusa, LordOfTheRazzles

Established relationship, post-BAFTA, healing Thorin causes temporary amnesia, Dwarf and Hobbit courting (again) | 14k | G

Defying Death (or at least the ones in charge) - Lucigoo89

I have yet to read this yet but it looks very promising! Bilbo has died and now it’s time for him to smuggle himself into Mahalia Halls to see his love again | 15.1k | T

Ere Break of Day - alexaprilgarden

During the journey, falling in love, Dwarven Ones, soulmates, everyone lives, angst | 15.6k | E

The Different Shades of Bilbo’s Love - SunnyRose

Kid Bilbo wants to be friends with Thorin, consenting adult romance later on, friends to lovers, flower language, Belladonna Took! 17.5k | G

I have loved you and you have not known it - KaavyaWriting

Miscommunication, the company come up with a way of making friends with a hobbit that is inaccurate, jealous Thorin, during the journey | 17.7k | G

You Got Me - drunkonwriting

Company-centric, dwarf culture, fluff, during the journey, friendship fic | 18.9k | G

Gardening - The Feels Whale (miscellea)

Bilbo returns to Shire, Kid!fic, cabbage patch hobbits, Bilbo’s under the impression Thorin died (he’s wrong) | 19.7k | T

My Princess, My Love, Marry Me! - mordelle

Alt universe, Princess Thorin visits the Shire, pinning Bilbo, Thorin is considered ugly by Dwarven beauty standards, smut | 36.3k | E

[poptod]

Within You (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: You make prayer to the Gods to be one with your beloved.

Notes: hey lads its been a while. this story is, um, more like a moral-of-the-story than a fanfiction. its about obsession and very deep love (in a healthy way). i talk about it a little more in the notes of the Ao3 chapter. WC: 3.9k Ao3 Link

+

You were staring again.

Most of your mornings were spent staring. You woke up much earlier than he did, after all, and rarely could find the ego to leave the bed without him. Thus you spent your mornings staring.

The sun had just barely risen over the eastern hills, and the winds, typically harsher in the day, were only a quiet brush against the reed shades on the windows. A warm glow began to fill the Prince's bedroom –– slow at first, and then a little brighter, till the sun shone directly through the window's angle, and boasted rays of light like blooming lotus petals unfurling downwards through the air. But this dappled light; the gently floating dust like pollen, the warmly-coloured walls and their painted decorations, were only a backdrop to the beauty of the Prince before you. Ahkmen dozed peacefully in the warm morning, resting on his stomach with his long eyelashes still darkened from yesterday's kohl. 

You reached up slowly, wary of disturbing him, and carefully brushed his hair away from his face. A few loose strands entangled in your fingers and easily came away from him; those you placed in your own hair, like a medallion of the Prince's love. A part of him within you.

It was something you longed for desperately. You loved the sensation of being close to him, your chest pressed against his, hands roaming all across in a plea for more and more of one another. You loved even more the feeling of him being inside you –– always pleasant and warm, and about as intimate as one could get with another. But still something seemed to lack; something was not whole. You were not whole. You wanted to crawl into his mouth and sleep in his heart. You wanted to reside within him.

His eyes fluttered open –– a pale colour made vibrant by the dark ochre and golden skin of his freckled face, framed by his smudged black eyeliner.

He smiled.

"Good morning, merwty," he said, and stretched, raising his arms high above his head, showcasing his ribs and slim waist.

"Good morning," you said with a soft chuckle. "How did you sleep?"

"Alright," he mumbled.

He reached over, and pulled you into him. You gladly acquiesced, and wrapped your arms around him.

"You do know I have to go soon," you said, your voice muffled against his breast. "I may not attend the morning worship but, I do have to clean up after some of it."

"Yes, I know," he said with a sigh, and held you tighter. "Just for another minute, my lotus."

You giggled, breathing in his scent, which only melted you into his hold.

Eventually you had to tear yourself from him –– just as you did every day –– and prepare yourself to go to the temple. Being a low-level priest, you had more freedom and less responsibilities than the High Priest in Memphis, but still had a standard level of cleanliness to adhere to. Most of that cleaning of your body was done on the temple grounds, with water purified from the Nile. For now, you wrapped yourself in white linens, and searched for the wig that you had, last night, tossed somewhere in the room. Ahkmen simultaneously searched for his own wig, and in the process found yours. You found the Prince's wig in the corner.

You set it on your head, and brought it over to him that way.

"What do you think?" You asked, twirling around. His wig was much shorter than yours, with the ends capped in gold, and all braided in fine, thin strands.

"I think you are beautiful," he said, grinning. "Maybe you should wear it for today."

"Really? And what would you wear? Your bare hair?" You laughed.

He laughed with you, and rested his hands on your hips.

"By Gods, no. I have other wigs, you know. This one," he played with the strands now on your head, "is just my favourite. But maybe I will wear your hair today."

"Mine?" You asked, laughing.

He bent down and picked your wig up from the floor, and quickly settled it atop his head. The thick braids were all a mess from being tossed about, but nothing could diminish the brightly glowing grin shining from his face, although his eyes were obscured by the out-of-place hair. You laughed and brushed it away, settling everything in its proper place.

"Well... it's not horrible," you said.

"You think so?" He asked softly, reaching up to fondle the braids.

His eyes widened imperceptibly, and suddenly he was reaching for his hand-mirror, upon which the image of the Goddess Hathor was carved into the handle. Holding it up, he began to move the hair the way he liked it, and smiled at himself. With a small turn of the mirror's angle in his hand, he caught you in the mirror's reflection. His smile grew, and emulated a deep warmth.

"Beautiful," he said softly, his smile coy as it was sweet.

"You want to wear it?" You asked.

"I think so. A piece of you with me. It smells like your oils," he said, "and the incense from the temple."

"Let me fix it for you, then," you said.

He sat down upon the floor, on the reed matting that ran the length from the doorway to the window, and you sat behind him on a three-pronged stool. All the while as you worked he held the shining mirror, watching you in the reflection. Contented, soft eyes followed yours, till at the door of the palace you parted for the day, both waiting eagerly for when you would meet again.

Today Ra seemed to shine especially bright and warm, though the effect might've been caused by your shorter-than-usual hair. Until you arrived at the temple you received no stranger looks. Upon entering the enclosure walls of Hwt-Ka-Ptah, a few people stared, and by the time you reached the sacred lake the higher priests were staring at you. They had just finished their morning ritual, and were now cleaning themselves of the ash and oils burned and smeared across the image of Ptah, the God to whom the entirety of the complex was devoted to. 

"Have you gotten a new wig?" Seshemnefer asked as he stepped out of the lake, his skin already beginning to dry in the sun and breeze.

"Sort of," you said.

Seshemnefer was a chanter of Ptah, accompanying the higher Priests in many of the daily ceremonies. Essentially all of the priests in the complex ranked above you –– including Seshemnefer –– but it was not something you minded. Whilst most priests were, in their time of work, confined to the walls of Hwt-Ka-Ptah, you were allowed free roam, which gave you evenings to spend with Ahkmen. You surmised that if it were not the Prince calling upon you, you too would be set to live in the temple grounds. Still, your ranking made you replaceable, and thus the call of the Prince was given more importance than your duties in the temple. 

"Well," he ran a cloth over his bare head, "it looks nice. Although a little..." he pursed his lips, "... unlike you. Anyway, you better hurry up. The halls need cleaning."

"Of course, of course. Thank you," you said, and hurried down into the waters to cleanse yourself.

Throughout the day you worked dutifully, but just as with every other day your mind always remained on Ahkmen. Thoughts of the Gods would be more proper; love for Them, adoration for Their qualities, and gratefulness for Their gifts and mercies. Your work was good enough, you supposed –– cleaning the floors, dusting the sand away, and doing whatever the higher-ups called on you to do. Ahkmen was your gift from the Gods, this you knew, and so perhaps appreciation for him would do just as good as gratitude directly to the Gods Themselves.

But in the evening, a rare chance presented itself to you. The inner shrine of the temple was off limits to all but the highest of priests, the Hem-Netjer-Tepi –– the first servant of God. The common people spoke their prayers outside the temple, or conversely paid priests to pray to the Gods directly for them. Your work kept you in the temple late into the night, and the Prince had yet to call upon you; thus the higher priests continued to use your labour wherever needed. The last ceremony of worship was performed. The chanting ceased, and the fires inside the inner shrine were put out. Although the incense was taken away, its thick scent and smoke remained, spilling out from beneath the cracks in the large doors blocking the inner shrine from watching eyes. The priests had not tied the binding rope tight enough, and now it fell loose.

You could, of course, go get the Hem-Netjer-Tepi and ask him to tie it back up, or even tie it up yourself. For some reason, however, you hesitated. You stared at the dark slit in the open doorway, and heard a silent beckoning.

You were unclean. Sweat on your skin, dust clinging to you from your dirty work. But there was something you desired more than anything, and now you had a chance to ask the Gods directly; to postulate yourself, and in your own words ask for something you would never admit to yearning for to anyone else. Before you fully realized it, you had dropped your supplies, and your hand was raised towards the parted doorway.

You whipped around, checked your surroundings, and slipped inside.

Without the sacred flame the priests carried inside the chamber, the inner shrine was pitch black, with the only light source being the slit in the doorway, illuminating a thin beam of light across the edge of the God's naos shrine. With wide eyes not yet accustomed to the dark, you fell to your knees and pressed your forehead to the ground. You had yet to even see the image of Ptah, but His presence was overwhelming, and your body began to shake.

"Oh Great God Ptah," you began, nearly whimpering the words into the dust at His feet, "oh He who listens to prayers, please grant me this desire. O Ptah, south of His wall, Who lifts the Heavens with His hands, let me be one with my beloved. Let us not be apart, let us experience the oneness of being complete. Let me return and be his heart once more. O Ptah, I ask this out of pure longing and love. I ask forgiveness for entering Your sacred shrine. I ask for Your mercy. Ptah, Lord of the Life of the Two Lands –– praises and adorations upon Your name."

You continued, rambling in both anxiety and ecstasy, as your closed eyes slowly adjusted to the lack of light. Praises and adorations again and again; and the repetition of your one request. When you raised your head, your eyes had fully adjusted, and you caught sight of Ptah looking down upon you, His eyes wide and vibrant against His golden skin.

You fled the shrine room.

Barely within your mind, you put away your cleaning tools, and hurried back to the residence of the Pharaoh.

Ahkmen was nearly asleep by the time you returned. The oil lamp at his bedside was ready to flicker into oblivion, and the wind had settled for the night. His breath was quiet. The door creaked as you closed it, and the sound roused him gently from his passing.

"Good evening," he mumbled, and rolled over from his stomach to his back.

You quickly pulled the wig off your head, and crawled onto his bedframe.

"Hello, merwty," you murmured, moving quick and careful to caress his head.

"Where were you?" He asked.

"They asked me to clean up after the evening ritual," you said, which was not a lie. 

"I see," he said. "Are you tired?"

"Um..." adrenaline had kept you going since you left the shrine. But now that you were in the warm light of Ahkmen's room, it seeped away into exhaustion. "I.. am, yes."

"I'm sorry we didn't get much time tonight," he said, and some of the words slurred together.

"You will have to tell me about your day tomorrow morning," you said as you settled down into his arms.

"Oh yes," he murmured, nuzzling you.

It took only a few long breaths before you both fell asleep.

In the morning, you felt no body next to yours. The strange and unfamiliar sensation jolted you awake.

"Merwty?"

Ahkmen spoke in a panicked voice. At once the realization came to you, and you remembered the previous night. Your prayer to your Maker.

"Merwty, did you really do that?" Ahkmen asked, his breath still moving quick through his chest.

"I... I did," you said. 

The words formed on Ahkmen's tongue, and passed through his lips. Your lips. Each of his movements was now yours –– each of his memories now yours to recall, just as your memories were his.

You both, simultaneously thinking the same thing, scrambled out of bed and rushed to the mirror. Crashing down onto the floor on your knees, you grabbed the mirror and held it up to your face, your knuckles white and frigid. It was a question of appearance; had you taken on Ahkmen's characteristics, or had he taken on yours? Was your shared face now an amalgamation of your features?

To your consolation, your shared face was Ahkmen's face. There was no worry about hurrying out of the palace, lest someone mistake your shared body for an imposter in the room of the Prince.

You let out a shared sigh of relief.

"It's kind of hard to believe," Ahkmen said, touching your face, "that your wish was granted."

"A little," you agreed, "but I know that if the Gods gave me you, then I must be in Their favour."

He chuckled, and though your shared eyes closed, you revelled in his smiling expression in the mirror when he opened them.

"You are sweet. But this will take some getting used to. I think... we should be able to communicate without speaking aloud, right?" He said, still speaking to you through the mirror.

"I think so," you said. 

In the meantime, you grew increasingly interested in moving Ahkmen's face. You stuck your tongue out, pursed your lips, moved your eyebrows about, and finally opened your mouth wide and let your tongue roll out.

Ahkmen shut his mouth immediately, and dropped the mirror. Your face became very, very warm.

"Stop that," he laughed, digging his nails into his palm.

You unclenched the hand.

"You stop that, that hurts," you said, looking down at the red crescents stamped onto your palm.

"I'm sorry, merwty," he said softly, and kissed his palm.

You giggled.

"Let's get ready, yes?" You said.

"Of course. The day will not wait for our play. We shall return to it in the night," he said.

You wrapped your arms around yourself and squeezed tightly, humming in deep satisfaction. To be one with Ahkmen fulfilled all pleasurable desires, and at last satiated the deep sense of longing and separation within you.

You went off to bathe and were assisted by ladies who brought oils of every fine scent. The day was already beginning to grow hot, and thus the cool water was a great relief to step into. With each movement you were filled with enjoyment –– the grace of Ahkmen's feet upon the floor, his slim legs, the gentleness of his lean arms swaying to and fro as the two of you seemed to dance within your body. The ladies watched with wide and curious eyes, and seemed surprised when you turned down their offer to wash your hair and skin. Instead, you did it yourself, lavishing one another in the scent of rose and the luxurious feel of smooth oil dripping down your humid skin.

I adore you, I adore you, played over and over like a mantra, one after another being spoken in each other's voices within your head. Washing yourself was a slow and delicate process that you both relished in, running your hands over your shoulders, thighs, and waist, and pressing your lips against your shoulder in quiet, unassuming kisses.

By the time you were finished, you were already late to meet Ahkmen's father. But you insisted and took the time to get dressed in fine garments of white linen and golden jewels, lavishing yourself and admiring how your tanned skin contrasted and complimented the colours.

"Come now," Ahkmen said to you within your mind, "I do not want my father to be cross with us."

"Very well," you grumbled. "I wish you could carry a mirror around all day, so I could always see your beautiful face."

"You already wished to be one with me," Ahk said, and you left the room, headed towards the court. "I am not sure the Gods would be so merciful to change societal structure to allow us to hold a mirror all day."

You laughed, but managed to hold it inside –– only a smile showed itself, earning you some odd looks from the people you passed in the halls.

The two of you moved through the day with relative ease given your new living arrangements, all the while fawning over yourself in both directions. In times of required silence, you fondled your hands either in front of you or behind your back, running your fingers over your knuckles adoringly, and making subtle kisses with your lips each time one finger tapped another finger, distracted from any outside occurrences. People would, now and again, give you strange looks. From those ranking below you, they were often more curious and befuddled than anything; from those higher-ranking, they were punishing glares, and were a weak attempt to shame you into not loving one another. But you just smiled coyly, like a cat with slim, mischievous eyes, and continued to touch your hands behind your back.

Not being able to see Ahkmen slowly dug at you. Each twist of your shared expression, from the little smirks to the soft blinking of his lashes, was now hidden by virtue of your eye's angle. This little discomfort and dissatisfaction was not the only thing to bother you, either –– there was none of the pleasure of placing your arm around his waist and pulling him in, none of the sensation of feeling his body heat next to yours. You could no longer feel his lips on yours, nor easily stare into his eyes as he stroked your cheek.

All of these things you pushed aside. You were lucky to be able to speak with him and spend the day with him at all; after all, usually you were apart for near the whole day, separated by your duties. 

As the sun set behind the white walls of the palace, you awaited eagerly your dismissal from royal duties. When the moment finally came, the two of you practically bounded back to your room, laughing to yourself as your gold and white tresses billowed behind you. You dismissed all servants from the area, and fell onto your bed behind closed doors. Slowly your eyes shut, and deep breaths replaced the giddiness, allowing a sense of tiredness to settle deep into your body.

"Oh, to be united as one," you said, running your hand over your stomach and feeling the dips and ripples of fat and muscle. 

"Merwty, I miss your face," Ahkmen sighed.

"I miss your face, too," you said softly. "But more than that..."

As you lay there, you could easily imagine Ahkmen's body resting on the bed –– an image called back from your memories of many evenings. In those moments, your beloved lying exhausted on his bed, you would often bring him water or fruits if he desired them. You massaged his feet and legs, caressed his body, braided his hair, and took great joy in any service towards him. Even washing fruit for him to eat felt holy.

"I love being a part of you," you mumbled, "but I miss being of service to you. Like, bringing you pleasure. Now if I want to feed you dates, I have to just feed them to myself. That's no fun."

"You enjoy feeding me dates that much?" He asked amusedly.

"It's not just the dates, it's the principle of the thing," you grumbled, feeling delight and humour bubble in your chest.

Ahkmen laughed, brushing his hands through your hair.

"What does it mean, then?"

You paused and thought. Suddenly, a white light filled you –– a deep understanding of the nature of the soul. 

Ahkmen, privy to your thoughts, understood as well.

You knew what you needed to do.

"Really?" He said.

"Really," you said.

That night, you snuck out of the palace and over the white enclosure walls of the temple, and in secrecy opened the door bolt to the inner shrine. Even being a Prince you were not allowed in this sacred room; it was an honour and duty reserved only for the High Priest. Thus you continuously looked over your shoulder till you closed the shrine door behind you, enveloping yourself in the darkness.

Each breath seemed to echo in the tall space. But with no sense of coordination and no sight to aid, you took only a few, stumbling steps forward before falling once more to your knees. Forehead to the floor you began muttering again, prayers, adorations, and your plea.

"O Great God Ptah, O He Who listens to prayers, forgive me for what I asked of You, thank You for Your mercy in bestowing understanding. I am sorry for doubting Your will in separating us as different beings. I see now it is pleasure to serve personally, another whom you love. Please, may Your mercy extend to us –– may we be of service to one another once more, and continue to serve You, O Beautiful of Face."

With hands clasped in front of your chest you raised yourself, and slowly, shaking, met the eye of the God.

His eyes, strikingly pale and wide, were staring down at you.

You fled the shrine room.

A certain anxiousness kept you in an uneasy sleep for several hours. Neither of you were sure if Ptah would listen; if His mercy would extend to fix your hubris. You had been taught by the priests that the mercy of not being punished for your sins was the same mercy that Gods showed when They did not answer your prayers immediately. Extensions of the same kindness. Humans were blind and could not see the whole map –– where one seemingly good wish led was just as dark and unknowable as any ill-tempered desire, as the effects of human choice could not be seen on the linear timeline that the living experienced. If Ptah was not so merciful to save you from yourself, then He would likely not want to use the energy to switch you back at your behest. Yet it could also be seen as a mercy that Ptah listened to you in the first place; that He afforded you the opportunity to learn and enlighten yourself. You could not tell which circumstance this one was.

These thoughts churned, salted by an anxious sickness, until you eventually fell asleep in the very early morning.

By the time the sun had fully risen over the mountains, you were stirring awake, your eyes heavy with exhaustion. Your head rolled to the side, and beside you lay the sleeping body of Ahkmen. You sighed a breath of relief. 

A few minutes later Ahk stirred, and you moved, shifting to pet his face and slowly wake him.

"Good morning, merwty," you said with a smile.

He smiled up at you, and brushed the hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

"Good morning, my love."

[calxprince]

❀ LOVE, OR THE LACK THEREOF ( 1 )

. . . a kabru x gender neutral reader story

# Chapter 1 ; 5 Years is Barely Enough Time for Someone to Move On, Right?

# genre : multiple parts. breakup angst. reader can't move on for the life of them.

# warnings : hurt no comfort in the first chapter

# spoiler warnings : none

# notes : purely an intro to the story. reader yammering about their life after the breakup. author is tired of the lack of kabru fanfiction and is tired of depending on cai

click here for the masterlist

1080 words

. . . in which relationships are prohibited within the party.

What a stupid rule. Or at least, you used to think it was. Until you fell in love, then fell out of it after.

Okay, you didn't actually fall out of it. But you did end up breaking up.

But hey, 5 years isn't that long right? It's not too late to start moving on?

Fuck. You really wished you followed that rule. All you can do now is regret all of your actions 5 years ago, when you were dating him.

RELATIONSHIPS WITHIN PARTIES WERE STRICTLY PROHIBITED.

You only started to understand why it was a rule, a golden standard across all parties.

It is fairly understandable that to have good chemistry with your party, you need to have close bonds with each of your members. You need to establish a strong relationship with your peers, to use all of your different abilities in perfect harmony.

However, indulging yourself in the greed of breaking through the barrier or being— just friends is a high risk. It could either make or break your party's chemistry. With intertwined heartstrings, that push and pull is always guaranteed to break those ties.

You groan at your stupidity, as you struggle to keep yourself afloat as a solo adventurer. Gold became scarce as you could barely afford your necessities, while the dungeon became harder and harder to explore— making treasures difficult to score. Lower levels were always a no-go, as you risk dying and being victim to a resurrection scam— draining you of all of your (miniscule) savings.

You used to be a party leader, determined to lead your beloved team to victory. However, strangers turn into friends— friends into close friends, and suddenly... Lovers. Life back then was simple, laughing at the stupidity of the rule ' no dating within the party! '. I mean, what's so wrong about being happy?

Your power, and his expertise with the blade— back to back, you two were unstoppable.

But could it have lasted forever? You ask yourself over and over— to the point of days becoming weeks, becoming months.

It's all become a blur.

Wake up. Enter the Dungeon. Explore the Dungeon. Go Home. Sleep. Repeat.

It's been 5 years since you broke up with Kabru. Actually— 5 years since you've seen his face. However, it doesn't change a thing. You have had his face memorized in the back of your mind since the day you both met; each angle and curvature of his jaw, the exact hue and saturation of his eyes, each curl in the sea of his dark hair.

You could never forget the way his eyes would soften as he looked at you, his lips curling into a gentle smile. He made you feel warm, like— a bowl of hot soup that your mom made you on a rainy day kind of warm. The way he never fails to be impressed by you, no matter how many times he'd seen your magic.

Sometimes, he'd try to get a little scratch during battle just so he could get healed by you again.

So what if the other members were fatally bleeding and were on the verge of death? He has a 'potentially life-threatening paper cut' and is in need of assistance.

Does it hurt more to remember, than to forget?

... You're not sure.

Remembering only brings fear—the fear of being forever perceived as the person you used to be, and will never be remembered as the person you are now. Change is inevitable, but you never really know if it it changes for the better or the worse.

You've been avoiding ever exploring more than half of the village ever since that day.

He's made his imprint in your mind, where that one bakeshop was not just any normal bakeshop— it was the one he'd eagerly line up at each morning, just so he could bring you your favorite treat.

God, you can't even stand the smell of it in the air anymore.

You couldn't get yourself to go to that one tavern, since it wasn't just any normal tavern anymore— it was his favorite tavern. The one tavern that he introduced you to, where they sold the best quality of your favorite drink.

He had hunted down every saloon and tavern in the village, just to pin one down because he knew you would love it.

And he loved it because you loved it.

It was also the place where you got absolutely wasted. Where you accidentally gave him the sloppiest, most passionate liquor-flavored kiss ever.

Where you couldn't stop the drunken slur of words that poured out of your mouth like a waterfall of alcohol, accidentally telling him you loved him.

It's a never-ending spiral of having to give up your favorite things, mostly because the reason why they were your favorite— was because of him. Because he had taken the time to get to know you, and noted down every single thing about you in every nook and cranny of his mind— your favorite scent, the shampoo you use, the distinct hop in your step.

That man knew you inside and out as if he had just completely dissected you in his mind. His beautiful mind. The mind that knew the second your mood shifted, the one that always takes note of your subtle hints.

And without him, everything seemed tasteless. Like your favorite freshly baked bread in the morning— it suddenly felt like eating clay that you had just dug up from the side of a creek. Like a bland porridge that was bordering a lukewarm temperature.

You sit there, pondering what could've been.

What would life be like if he never left?

Would he still be lying beneath your covers, his face buried in the crook of your neck while whispering promises?

Would he be sitting on your couch, folding your shared laundry— while you cook yourselves a shared dinner?

Would he be begging you to use your magic on him again? Would you be there healing his wounds after a long day, while he begs for another kiss?

Would he be there to kiss your lips again— holding you like a glass rose that could shatter beneath his fingertips?

...

You still love him.

You can't deny it.

However, 5 years is enough for him to hire a new mage.

5 years would've been enough for him to move on to bigger things— bigger ambitions.

bigger dreams than the ones he had with you.

You needed longer than 5 years. Maybe one day you'd be able to meet him eye to eye, without the dread and the fear.

But today was not that day.

But today was the day god decided to test you. (as if he hasn't put you through enough, dragging you from hell and back.)

He decided to test your patience, your resilience, and all of the above.

I mean, who else wouldn't freak out after seeing your ex and your ex-party members lying dead on the ground?

... Especially when they're all weirdly lined up on the concrete floor of the dungeon.

[ckret2]

For those of you that still wanna try to meet my impossibly high standards for some reason, I'm still taking title suggestions but here's the updated criteria:

MANDATORY: must include the word Goldilocks, or a "Goldilocks" pun that's SO OBVIOUS it's nigh impossible to NOT hear it. If you have to stretch to hear it, it fails. If there's an unrelated word inserted between "gold" and "lock," fail.

MANDATORY: The Goldilocks reference must be about the Goldilocks principle, the Goldilocks zone, or something else like that and NOT about Bill or the fairy tale. If it's a Goldilocks & the Three Bears reference, automatic fail. If the word "Goldilocks" is being used to refer to Bill, Bill's appearance, Bill's name, Bill's ANYTHING, automatic fail.

"I don't feel like it should be mandatory. It wouldn't bother me if the title doesn't meet these criteria." It's not your title. Please don't send me asks like that, I didn't put those points up for negotiation.

Has to sound like it's about THIS fic. Think of a random different "human Bill's stuck in Gravity Falls and gets a redemption arc" fic. Could the title describe that fic just as well? It's out. Here's the general themes I've thought of if u wanna muse over them.

Bonus points if it's a funny/punny reference to some other phrase in a way that sounds like it would fit in as a Gravity Falls episode title; double major bonus points if the reference actually fits this fic.

The subjective points that still stand from the first criteria list: interesting enough to intrigue new readers; easy to remember (not too long/complicated); actually sounds like a title.

Short & snappy. If you read the title once, left for an hour, and tried to remember it, would you be likely to remember it word-for-word? Is it built in a way that facilitates being easy to remember (like, built on a common phrase or distinctive words)? Or are there a bunch of little prepositions & phrases that risk getting changed or getting their order swapped or left out?

Gotta be better at meeting these criteria than "Wasting Away Again in the Goldilocks Zone" is.

The rigid criteria list isn't to be a demanding dick; it's because I know y'all are nicely volunteering help and I don't want you to generously spend your time brainstorming helpful suggestions that I already know I wouldn't take. If you read all that and go "dang! I wanted to suggest something but I can't think of anything that fits," 1) i appreciate that you wanted to help and that's okay you're not obligated to send anything; and 2) you and i are in this boat together 🤝

Mainly I've still got my fingers crossed to the last minute that some stranger will come into my inbox like "lo, the gentle hand of the Greek Muse of Cartoon Fanfiction Titles has touched my mind, and like a prophet I pass this message on to you." Otherwise I don't expect much.

[grandmother-goblin]

Reminder for my fellow fanfic writers since I’ve seen a few instances of people saying that they only read fanfiction.

Reading fanfiction exclusively can be detrimental to improving your own skills as a writer. If you don’t care about improving your own skills, don’t worry about it! Do what you want! Having fun always comes first when writing fanfiction!

But if you want to learn/improve/grow as a writer, please read professionally published novels. Especially professional published novels in the genre you like to write!

I can’t tell you all how many times I’ve seen people who write/read romantic/smutty fanfiction, and then turn around and mock romance/erotica books as a genre .

If you write romance/smutty fanfiction, I highly encourage you to read professionally published romance/erotica novels! There is so much you can learn from professional novels that you simply will not learn from fanfiction!

This goes for any genre! In fact, I also encourage people to read genres that they don’t typically read. I write primarily drama and romance, but some of the most important writing skills I’ve learned have come from thriller and mystery novels.

And because this is The Reading Comprehension Site Where We Assume the Worst of Everyone, I’m not saying fanfiction is bad. I’m not saying that you can’t learn from fanfiction. I’m also not saying that every single published novel is gold. I’m saying that if you want to write a certain genre, knowing the genre’s professional standards is really helpful!

[otaku553]

Do you have a favorite fanfiction of all time?

I do, actually! It might not be everyone’s cup of tea but I’ve reread it so many times and I always enjoy it! The fic in question is a crossover between Persona 3 and High School DxD, called A Demon Among Devils. It’s pretty standard fare as far as crossovers for Persona 3 go, where Minato is essentially isekai’d to the world of HSDxD after Elizabeth finds a way to free him from the Great Seal. I’ve never actually seen any content for HSDxD outside of this fic, and that might be exactly why I like it so much, haha.

While the premise of the crossover is pretty standard, I think where this fic excels is the execution! There is a lot of character development to go around and the relationships feel like they develop reasonably naturally. Minato being overpowered is a given, because he’s already completed his journey, but they find interesting ways to have his powers interact with the world, because having archangels and archdemons living in his mind really throws a wrench into a lot of things in HSDxD. Not to mention, the worldbuilding is impeccable! I’ve never actually interacted with HSDxD in any capacity but the interactions in this fic of heaven and hell and the church and knightly orders that work for the church are fascinating.

This is, in my opinion, the closest to how I think Minato’s character is. He’s tired, he really doesn’t want to interfere with things that shouldn’t concern him given that his journey is over and he just wants to relax, but he’s a good person inevitably drawn into conflict, only to find that the meaningful relationships he creates in the heat of conflict are what motivate him to keep living.

As far as crossovers go, it’s the gold standard to me. Good character studies, good world building, readable without too much knowledge in either franchise, and very entertaining. And minimal romance to the point that I think it is ignorable :)

[pebblysand]

Why’s fan fiction so bad these days.

hi anon! i can't tell if this is a dig at my fics, a dig at other people's fics, or just a standard observation. having said that, i typically don't answer asks that don't say hello/thank you/some sort of minimal human acknowledgement but i did find this an interesting question to raise, so.

i don't necessarily think fanfic is "bad" "these days". IMO, the ratio of good v. bad fic has been pretty much equal in most of the fandoms i've been in overtime. about 30-40% are so bad they're unreadable (i'm talking: awful grammar, terribly OOC, plot that makes no sense, etc.). about 50-60% are "a bit meh", meaning that if you're in a very small fandom where there is nothing else to read, you'll probably read them out of sheer content starvation, but they won't really give you anything of substance. if you're in a big fandom with loads of content, you'll probably pass on them. then, you have probably about 9% that are really good. this, to me, is the stuff you would recommend if you were building a rec list for others, which you believe everyone should read. and lastly, you have the top 1%. those are the fics that have taken your breath away, are imprinted in your brain forever, you've re-read them ad nauseam and have written love letters to the authors about.

i find this ratio pretty much invariable. it was the same when i was writing for Silk, for The Good Wife, and now for HP. it also seems to be the same per HP niche. to me, there's a top 10% of post-war fics, there's a top 10% of harmony fics, etc.

but the major thing to note here is that what is top 10% for me might not be top 10% for you. that's why you don't have everyone reading or reccing the same things, and that's the joy and the beauty of diversity of taste and opinion, as far as i'm concerned. it's why i disagree with your general assessment that "fanfic is bad" "these days". that's something you think - not necessarily something someone else would think, on the basis of the content published. to give you an example, in hinny circles, i see floreatcastellum and northumbrian recommended a lot. on tiktok, i see manacled recommended a lot. having skimmed through these works, they -- personally -- do not do anything for me. but that doesn't mean they're "bad" fics. i'm sure they're great fics. they are loved by many, many people. they're just not something i vibe with, and they're not in my top 10%. just like loads of people think my fics are not for them. and that's absolutely fine. as long as you don't come in screaming in all caps insulting authors whose works you don't vibe with, we can all very happily coexist.

having said that, i have to admit that as far as my taste goes, i'm currently building a massive Google Sheets rec list (yes, coming soon, i promise ^^). one of the things i'm tracking in this rec list is the date of publication/completion of the work. and from what i can see at this stage, the average date of publication of my top 10% works is 2016. which, i think, does also say something. while i do still find loads of fics published semi-recently that i like, i also do have to acknowledge the fact that if we're looking at my own personal taste... you're probably kind of right.

so, why is fanfiction so bad these days?

i think a large part of it is that my personal taste doesn't necessarily align with that of the wider public. i'm not on-trend, let's say. AUs are pretty much the gold standard now, and particularly what-if AUs (e.g. what if Harry was a Muggle? what if Ron was in Slytherin? what if Sirius survived? etc.) you see tonnes of these recommended on reddit/being published all the time. loads of people are also interested in more exploration of characters and niche ships i'm personally not interested in (marauders, death eaters, etc.) there is also a prominence of fluff (or low-stakes romantic angst), particularly in the hinny, dramione and drarry fandoms. it's escapism from canon (and possibly, escapism from the harsh reality of our world), that i just personally don't vibe with/am not looking for. we see this in original fiction as well, with the drive towards fantasy/romantasy in recent years, and more recently still, with "cosy" literature. i don't particularly enjoy these genres in original fiction either, so i think that's probably also why i don't particularly vibe with the fanfic in that same trend.

i also think, just overall, there is less content being published in the HP fandom in general. thus, proportionally, less fics people will vibe with. this is in part simply due to the age of the source material (this happens to TV shows a lot: once a series is over, people tend to gradually drop out of fandom). it's also, i believe, due to the fact that there was a boom of fandom involvement during covid (as people had nothing else to do), and that people have now gradually dropped back out. lastly, it is probably also due to the fact that a large portion of people who used to be in fandom have dropped out due to JKR's controversial opinions. all of these things combined means that there is less overall content, and thus less content you're going to like as an individual.

additionally, globally, many countries are currently experiencing a cost-of-living crisis. this matters because, as i always say, "fanfiction is a rich person's hobby". meaning that: if you're going to truly make an effort in writing, and truly get involved in fandom, you need to have time on your hands. time you won't have anymore if you're struggling, having to work multiple jobs to make ends meet. writing at a high level is a massive time suck and very few people, right now, can afford to spend hours upon hours producing free content. it's sad, but it's true. so, of course, that's inevitably going to drive good writers out of fandom. and, sadly, it will disproportionally impact good writers, because they will be the ones who will spend the most time on their craft. it's very quick to write shit fic with loads of grammatical mistakes, much harder/longer to write something high-quality. it also disproportionally impacts, of course, marginalised communities, who will then not produce the high-quality content that represents them.

lastly, i also think that one thing that demotivates writers at the moment, is an overall drop in community engagement. i was very reluctant to buy into this up until very recently because, tbh, i always get the ick when people try and argue that things were "better before" but i have to admit... i've been getting loads of comments/DMs lately from people telling me things like "i never typically comment on fanfic, but...[your fic is great]" or people coming out of the woodwork telling me they've been reading castles for years, without ever making contact before. and, not to criticise any of these people, because i truly cherish every single comment, and i understand people might feel very nervous engaging, but you have to admit that if So Many People do the same thing, you end up in a situation where many good writers get demotivated thinking no one is reading their fics because they're not getting any engagement. and, while yes, people should write for themselves first, it's easier said than done when you're just posting into the void.

so, yeah, idk, maybe instead of complaining, we should be looking at making writing conditions better for online writers and encourage more diversity in fandom. you're always going to have trends and writing styles that you more ore less vibe with, that's immutable, but creating the conditions for more voices to be able to participate is definitely a very large factor in that.

[hypotheticalprose]

I'm an amateur at writing fanfiction, and part of that is because there's absolutely a stigma that surrounds it among "serious writers." I've gradually come to the conclusion that anti-fanfiction snobbery is pretty self-destructive for a writer to indulge in.

When I was in college, I wrote a research paper comparing and contrasting fanfiction with young adult and new adult fiction. As someone who had only really dabbled in fanfiction before that point, it was striking to me how gendered it was as a practice. Surveys of AO3 users have consistently shown more nonbinary users than male users, and the majority is, of course, overwhelmingly women.

That isn't especially surprising, considering the overall gender disparity among young boys and girls. Literature has become an increasingly feminine-coded art form (aside from the world of "serious literature," which remains dominated by men, but that's a whole other can of beans).

This was something that caught me off guard at the time, because I had my nose in a book way too often while growing up to notice that other cis guys weren't really reading. I tended to be friends with readers, so there was also an element of selection bias there.

Fanfiction is unique, though, because it is written by its own audience. Teenagers read it and write it just like adults do, and success is determined purely by the quality of the writing. As a result, you end up with a lot of future professional authors (again, mostly women) who are publishing fanfiction before they even end up in college. I have no doubt that this is only going to contribute to the gender division in the art form moving forward.

(BTW, plenty of professional authors cut their teeth by writing fanfiction, especially among newer cohorts. Some of them are willing to admit it, others are not.)

I have complicated feelings about the gender disparity that is emerging in literature. Do we really want hordes of barely-literate men running around? On the other hand, might I benefit from some sort of fucked-up affirmative action shit if there's barely any other guys who are interested in writing? It really makes you think.

I do believe that on an individual level, turning one's nose up at the opportunities that fanfiction provides is self-destructive more than anything. Being a writer means you write. The specifics past that point are mostly semantic. Writing fanfiction is no better or worse than any other form of writing, as long as you're trying to improve and don't let yourself stagnate.

On a personal level, I've greatly enjoyed writing fanfiction as a way of testing my skills in genres I'm less experienced with, as well as getting feedback on my writing that isn't coming from people I know. Because you're piggy-backing off the interest of a broader story, you get a certain level of buy-in that most WIP's aren't afforded.

The main thing that prevented me from getting into reading and writing fanfiction before I entered college was the lack of quality control. I think plenty of other people have had a similar experience that put them off fanfiction, where they read something, are unimpressed, and write it all off.

Don't get me wrong; the vast majority of fanfiction is not written to the same standards as published work. But unpolished gems are gems. I've read some seriously good shit now that I have a better idea of how to look for it. My gold standard for art is "did this make me want to start writing?" I've read a couple of stories that hit that mark, and that's high praise.

Anyways. Maybe I'll do another write up some time about how fanfiction is more of a commercial term than a real thing, since most literature is basically fanfiction.

[saintsenara]

Just for argument's sake, what's a sibling incest ship in hp that you think /could/ be compelling?

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

it's certainly an interesting question - which i've popped the answer to below the cut, not only because it's about sibling incest, a trigger warning in and of itself, but because it also discusses physical and sexual abuse.

in the response which inspired this ask, i said that it seems to me that the reason why people ship sibling pairings is primarily because they find the taboo engaging - and "engaging" here can refer to anything on a spectrum from "mildly interesting" to "hot".

and i have no moral objection to this in a fictional context. many of the best books i've ever read - the secret history and ada or ardor chief among them - have sibling incest, and sibling incest which is presented specifically as romantic, as a prominent theme. i've also [like any other millennial with too much time on their hands] seen game of thrones...

but in fanfiction, while i understand the fun of a taboo fantasy in which siblings hook up in an imaginary setting where nobody is getting hurt, i find this quite uninteresting. by which i mean, i don't vibe with the fact that the standard presentation of sibling incest is as something that everyone involved is broadly fine with.

and i think the reason for this is that it ends up being woven - a lot of the time - into the fanon which has sprung up around "pureblood culture", which presents aristocracy as something dark and sexy, the class system as something it's legitimately important to maintain, and notions that pureblood families are genuinely special [i.e. that they have certain "family magics"].

a lot of the time, sibling incest pairings - and parent/child ones - are situated within this context: that it is natural for someone who is special by virtue of their birth to think that the only person worthy of their attention is their own blood relative.

i'm on the record as finding this aristocracy wank uninteresting in general - and so i find it uninteresting in this specific form as well. and it's why i don't vibe with pairings like sirius/regulus or bellatrix/narcissa - they are typically written as making perfect sense.

what I think would be compelling, however, is an approach to such pairings which takes a view of sibling incest closer to our real-world understanding of the phenomenon. not as something which is taboo in a naughty, forbidden way - but as something which is corrosive, almost certainly abusive, and highly like to be accompanied by other forms of violence.

which is to say... there is a sibling incest pairing actually implied in the canon text who i think are fascinating to explore: morfin and merope gaunt.

the gaunts’ extreme incestuousness is played for laughs in half-blood prince:

“Marvolo, his son, Morfin, and his daughter, Merope, were the last of the Gaunts, a very ancient Wizarding family noted for a vein of instability and violence that flourished through the generations due to their habit of marrying their own cousins. Lack of sense coupled with a great liking for grandeur meant that the family gold was squandered several generations before Marvolo was born. He, as you saw, was left in squalor and poverty, with a very nasty temper, a fantastic amount of arrogance and pride, and a couple of family heirlooms that he treasured just as much as his son, and rather more than his daughter.”

this alludes to common jokes in britain about how inbred the aristocracy are. it also winks conspiratorially at the reader about the irony of a family which considers itself to be of such “pure” blood living in filth and fucking their own blood relations - and morfin and merope both have a birth defect associated with inbreeding [exotropia, eyes which stare in different directions] which serves as a visual metaphor for the gaunts' hubristic decline, in that it is written as making them look ugly, simple-minded, and poor.

but there is also a subtext here - in the way that dumbledore talks about the family's increasing isolation from the rest of the world -that the gaunts' incestuousness is narrowing from first cousins to siblings.

[indeed, i always wonder if we're supposed to imagine that morfin and merope's - presumably - dead mother was marvolo's sister, and that's why the siblings have this birth defect while marvolo does not...]

the three gaunts do not appear to go anywhere or know anyone, and morfin and merope evidently did not attend hogwarts. this isolation - especially when coupled with their appearances, since many of the pureblood families we meet in canon are described as being good-looking, and their finances - means that neither child has any hope on the upper-class marriage-market.

but the way that both morfin and marvolo talk to and about merope - especially the way morfin taunts his sister about tom riddle sr. - suggests that this doesn't matter, since morfin and merope will be keeping it in the family...

“‘Darling,’” whispered Morfin in Parseltongue, looking at his sister. “‘Darling,’ he called her. So he wouldn’t have you anyway.” Merope was so white Harry felt sure she was going to faint. “What’s that?” said Gaunt sharply, also in Parseltongue, looking from his son to his daughter. “She likes looking at that Muggle,” said Morfin, a vicious expression on his face as he stared at his sister, who now looked terrified. “Always in the garden when he passes, peering through the hedge at him, isn’t she? And last night - ”  Merope shook her head jerkily, imploringly, but Morfin went on ruthlessly, “Hanging out of the window waiting for him to ride home, wasn’t she?”  “Hanging out of the window to look at a Muggle?” said Gaunt quietly. All three of the Gaunts seemed to have forgotten Ogden, who was looking both bewildered and irritated at this renewed outbreak of incomprehensible hissing and rasping. “Is it true?” said Gaunt in a deadly voice, advancing a step or two toward the terrified girl. “My daughter - pure-blooded descendant of Salazar Slytherin - hankering after a filthy, dirt-veined Muggle?”  Merope shook her head frantically, pressing herself into the wall, apparently unable to speak.  “But I got him, Father” cackled Morfin. “I got him as he went by and he didn’t look so pretty with hives all over him, did he, Merope?”

morfin's hatred of tom riddle sr. is obviously driven by his blood-supremacist beliefs. but it is also transparently sexual - he loathes the idea that riddle might "have" merope, he attacks riddle in response to his sister's unrestrained display of romantic/sexual interest in a man who is not him, and he delights in the knowledge that hurting riddle [and telling his father why he did so] will only secure his power over merope.

indeed, merope is "defeated" by marvolo - dejected and broken in his presence and by his violence - but the only person of whom she is "terrified" is morfin.

merope is also treated - as dumbledore says - as little more than an heirloom. she is the conduit for slytherin's blood - and she is, therefore, the person who is the primary victim of her father's desire to keep this bloodline pure. with no other candidate on the horizon, if this pure bloodline is to continue... then it is because she will be forced to bear children for morfin, extending the cycle of abject poverty and pain which defines the decaying last generations of slytherin's line.

and this raises questions which i think are genuinely compelling, both within the canon timeline and outside of it. what understanding of consent and bodily autonomy can merope have, and how does this play into her rape of tom riddle sr.? what happens if merope doesn't escape - if morfin gets away without prison time and returns to the shack? what happens to her and her baby if - when riddle sr. flees her - she is forced to come home? what would her life have been like as a mother to her brother's children - especially if she had daughters she knew would be similarly abused? how might she have resisted - since, if she can brew a love potion, she can brew an abortifacient - if she had been trapped with morfin? what would morfin have done to tom riddle jr. if his nephew hadn't been holding a wand?

and what does the teenage voldemort make of it all? after all, he attacks his uncle, knocks him out and frames him for murder... immediately after morfin has called his mother a "slut".

[phmonth]

Pandora Hearts Month 2023 Prompts!

Wonderful art made by @retracexcviii for last year's secret Santa!

What is Pandora Hearts Month? Pandora Hearts Month is an event that celebrates, well...Pandora Hearts, the manga created by Jun Mochizuki! Each day is a new prompt. The first three weeks celebrate the three main trios, and the fourth is a bonus week that celebrates any ships/friendships/ot3s fans chose and love--or simply any characters not covered by the other weeks! You can create edits, fanart, drabbles, fanfictions, amvs and mms...whatever you can think of, really!

Pandora Hearts Month 2023 Prompts:

Golden Trio Week (Alice, Oz and Gilbert), October 22nd-28th:

Day 1, Sunday Oct 22nd: Coat

Day 2, Monday Oct 23rd: Autumn

Day 3, Tuesday Oct 24th: Precious

Day 4, Wednesday Oct 25th: Raven

Day 5, Thursday Oct 26th: AU

Day 6, Friday Oct 27th: Blue

Day 7, Saturday Oct 28th: Sun

Rainsworth Trio Week (Sharon, Break and Reim), Oct 29th—November 4th:

Day 1, Sunday Oct 29th: Silver

Day 2, Monday Oct 30th: Fragile

Day 3, Tuesday Oct 31st: 🎃 Candy 👻

Day 4, Wednesday Nov 1st: Affection

Day 5, Thursday Nov 2nd: Grave

Day 6, Friday Nov 3rd: Moon

Day 7, Saturday Nov 4th: Winter

Tragedy Trio Week (Lacie, Jack and Oswald), Nov 5th—Nov 11th:

Day 1, Sunday Nov 5th: King

Day 2, Monday Nov 6th: Lyrics

Day 3, Tuesday Nov 7th: Spring

Day 4, Wednesday Nov 8th: Gold

Day 5, Thursday Nov 9th: Guilt

Day 6, Friday Nov 10th: Pocketwatch

Day 7, Saturday Nov 11th: Stars

Fan’s choice Week, Nov 12th—November 18th:

Day 1, Sunday Nov 12th: Hat

Day 2, Monday Nov 13th: AU

Day 3, Tuesday Nov 14th: Meadow

Day 4, Wednesday Nov 15th: Rose

Day 5, Thursday Nov 16th: Lonely

Day 6, Friday Nov 17th: Contract

Day 7, Saturday Nov 18th: Book

(If you want to use other prompts to make a Halloweeny piece, feel free! You don't have to save that for Halloween day!)

When you post, please remember to:

Tag me @i-prefer-the-term-antihero, @phmonth, and/or @this-idiots-left-eye in your posts to make sure I reblog them! (My main blog is your best bet).

Tag #phmonth23 in your tags! I will go through that tag and check if I've missed any direct tags. (If you don't see your piece reblogged on this blog after doing both these methods, please dm me!)

Either put a link, or a “read more” on long fics (or long posts in general), so they're easier to reblog!

NSFW content is allowed, but please make sure it’s clear it’s NSFW/tagged that way, and is beneath a read more so anyone who doesn’t want to see it doesn’t have to!

I also made a collection on Ao3 for writers! Don't hesitate to add your fics to it!

Don’t forget to join our discord if you haven’t! It’s a fun place to discuss the series and more easily share your creations!

You are free to have fun with this!! As I said, as long as you tag it, NSFW is allowed! Tagging ships is nice too. You can pretty much do whatever you want with the prompts!

As long as you make sure the characters from the trio are your main focus, it’s okay to use other characters in your creations too!

You can join any time, and use as many or as few prompts as you want! You don't have to post on the exact day if you can’t make it! I’ll reblog things late!

Since we live across the world, you are free to post whenever the day is for you. I myself will be making posts according to my time, which is Central Standard Time in America. 

If you have any other questions, don't hesitate to send an ask here, or post in the #questions channel of the discord!

P.S. About the Phmonth22 prizes:

Some of you may recall me posting about wanting to add a raffle aspect to Phmonth22, with the 15th anniversary merch as prizes. The prizes finally arrived!

Once the setup for Phmonth23 is done, I plan to gather up the names of everyone who posted for Phmonth22, and raffle off the two prizes: one for artists, and one for fic writers!

(Do note, however, that you will have to pay for shipping, especially if it needs to be sent internationally! )

Lastly, Vncmonth!

You guys voted to have a Vanitas no Carte month, like last year! Not sure when that'll be, I'm thinking January-February. I will work on that prompt list after the setup here is done as well!

Feel free to get started on making stuff early! (But please wait to post until the month has started!) I'm so excited to see what you make! Thank you for all your support!

i-prefer-the-term-antihero

[autisticandroids]

random question - do you have any fic recs for serial killer/stalker/etc dean/cas? or something fucky in similar ways to that? always enjoy your taste!

so i have a few, and i'll list those, but i would also love some clarification as to what exactly you're looking for. i will add links to fics later.

so obviously with understanding by apokteino is kind of the gold standard for this. but you've probably heard of it and most likely read it. you could also check out when all is lost / when the road is as dark as my fears, also by apokteino, for a pretty bad time. [links to mirrors of both fics in this post i wrote, which also has thoughts]

i also greatly enjoy "law enforcement pursuing the winchesters" type fics, (where we see a pov of the canonical winchesters that assumes they are serial killers, even if it isn't exactly right) of which my favorite is the "minimal loss" series by eden22. it's a criminal minds crossover but i've never watched criminal minds so they're just ocs to me, and the fic works fine that way. i have other recs in this genre if you're interested but that one is the best imo.

however, you're probably looking for a more traditional "serial killer au" type fanfiction. i'm kinda picky and easily annoyed, particularly by the classic tropes of the serial killer au, so i can't really give you unconditional recs as such.

so first of all there is this post by moi. that kind of outlines my ideal "serial killer au."

then i have some more questionable ones. i enjoyed number 1 crush by duckyboos, but the serial killer stuff in it was pretty much just "fine" for me, it was like a slasher flick with people who had the same names as spn characters. but the backstory element, which i'm not going to spoil, is like way more understated and therefore way more compelling to me. like it feels like a fucked up little psychological thriller in the best way. the backstory elements really make the fic. but also the fic buys into the concept of a "psychopath" way too hard and like breaks suspension of disbelief for me.

and then there's the angelface verse by anticipating boxes. i can't in good conscience recommend this as a "good" "fic" as such, but i did think about it for eleven years. the premise is tantalizing, but i would actually say that the destiel element is the weakest link. i only ever read the first two, but the most compelling elements to me were always 1) the hints we get at what's going on with the brothers. this isn't full au it's canon a little to the left, or even maybe divergent. and 2) i actually really liked the samruby one i found that it worked a lot better for me than the destiel one. ruby's brainwashing was like more verisimilitudinous than cas', while still being rather goofy in kind of a charming way.

anyway. that's some recs.

[hexenmond]

Webcomic Wednesday: The Witch Door

Well, I've been thinking about this the whole day now, and I'm almost frustrated that I can't seem to put this into words so easily. What's great about The Witch Door? Well honestly, what isn't?

I thought about Anni's other comic (Transfusions) and how I'm finding that easy to sum up – vampire BL with explicit scenes. I mention those few words and most people will have a fairly good grasp of what to expect and whether they might like it or not. (I personally hesitated a long time before reading it, because this is actually NOT something that's right up my alley. Turned out to also be good though.)

For The Witch Door, I can't seem to find an easily digestible handful of descriptive words like that. I feel like it is very much the sum of all of its intricate details, and it doesn't fit any simple bill. So I'll resort to reviewing my favourite bits about it…

It has great characters

Seriously, all of them are well thought out and engaging, not a single dull person among them. I love all of them so much that I have actually put ALL of them in my fanfiction (except for the Lintukoto people as they belong to the main canon storyline, which I'm not touching on). That includes Ulriikka, the fluffiest plot device ever.

Tangential to that: it has great representation

There's young people. Old people. Thin people. Fat people. Light-skinned people. Dark-skinned people. Live people. Dead people. Bird people. Ummm… a cat who is definitely also people. And other assorted… humanoids? And oh, sexualities for every letter of the alphabet!

The worldbuilding is intriguing

I'd roughly call the setting "urban fantasy", but that could mean so many things really. In a world much like the one we know, there are witches with differing magical abilities, some powerful, some almost mundane, but most importantly there is this one simple, cool thing that opens up so many possibilities, and that is the concept of the Witch Door: each witch has a special door that can lead to any other witch's special door. So even though our protagonists live in Turku, we have already spent an afternoon in New York and one in Kyoto, without anybody breaking a sweat.

… but it's also kinda slice-of-life

I really love the way that protagonist Katariina – non-magical, bog-standard human who works as a nurse – accidentally stumbles onto her neighbour's secret (he's a witch with a witch door), but her life's still lifing, so it's not all just magical discoveries and fun and games from then on. More like her world gets expanded, but that also means that on top of her own, mundane everyday problems she now learns about things happening in the magical community that are possibly even more concerning, and even less actionable. Katariina deals with all those new experiences with curiosity, wonder, compassion, delight, and occasionally overwhelm, and she feels so real for that.

It's about friendships

The more I think about it, that might be what I love most about the comic. We meet a whole bunch of people and all the relationships and interactions are just gold. At the heart of it, there's a lot of people caring about other people in quiet, everyday ways. Everyone is allowed to have their own struggles, and people are so supportive of each other. And there's also snark and banter, delicious!

I nearly forgot: It also has villains!

I do feel I've managed to avoid spoilers in all my rambling here, so I won't say too much about the antagonists. Just this: they exist, they are still a bit of a delightful mystery (we're in chapter 12 as I am writing this), and I fully believe they are just as complex and well thought out as all the other characters. I love to hate them.

Conclusion

If I've managed to pique your interest, why not take a look at the 6 page prologue? And then take the plunge into a completely different kind of mystery with chapter 1 🙃 where we're introduced to both of our protagonists separately, and then to the magic of the fluffy plot device.

Or, if you're unsure about whether reading this comic will bring joy to you and you don't want to just take the plunge and check it out (which I can relate to!), feel free to ask me questions about it!