#more of a ficlet than a oneshot but I had to this is such a funny concept

[somedayillfindthecourage]

Hi I've not been able to stop thinking about this so please accept my humble words

Eddie Munson has never appreciated costuming more than he does in this moment.

Seriously, the boots alone are enough to give him swagger, but the leather vest? The bandana? The fucking hat??

Eddie Munson has never looked cooler.

“You look like an asshole,” Gareth says, and Eddie can’t even find it in his heart to flip him off, he’s that jazzed about the costume.

“Yar,” he says to his own reflection, winking at himself. Yeah. That’s the stuff.

He whirls around and claps his hands once. “I’m off to plunder.”

Jeff rolls his eyes and Gareth flips him off and Eddie’s gone, swaggering down the corridor. His normal confidence level is about chin level, but this, this is fucking eyebrow levels of self-confidence.

And up ahead, his white whale. Or, you know, probably that metaphor works, he read enough of Moby Dick to know with certainty that Melville was gay and then got bored of reading about whale bits and ship parts, but, it’s fine. Scoops Ahoy can be his white whale if he says it is.

Scoops Ahoy with its stupid little sailor costumes and bored teenage employees. He’s been plotting this hijink for weeks, sorting out the pirate costume and coming up with the perfect phrase. He sort of knows Buckley, so this whole thing is going to be hilarious.

He swaggers right into the store, hit with that weird waffle cone ice cream shop smell and opens his mouth to drop the line of the century:

“I’m here to plunder your treasure chest of ice cream, yarhar”

(Which is not at all dumb or childish, Gareth, it’s a work of comedic mastery and ironic wit)

Only, it’s not Buckley manning the counter with a bored expression on her face.

It’s Steve fucking Harrington.

Steve, who looks up when he walks in and smiles, all boy next door charm and golden boy glow.

Steve, who actually looks good in the stupid sailor costume, with the stupid white cap perched jauntily on his incredible hair. Nothing should ever be jaunty in real life, but that hat on Steve’s head is.

And that’s just the cherry on the sundae of Steve fucking Harrington, with his athletic thighs in those short shorts and the little curl of chest hair just barely peeking out the top of his little ascot-like tie thing.

It’s the chest hair that does him in. Eddie Munson knows better than to look Steve fucking Harrington up and down. His eyes get caught like a loose tape and static fills his brain. He never feels gayer than he does looking at Steve Harrington’s thighs and chest hair.

So instead of opening his mouth and delivering acerbic wit and pirate puns, his tongue practically falls out of his mouth and he says,

“I’m here for your pleasure chest.”

He doesn’t even wait to see the damage, just turns on his heel and speedwalks faster than that pack of moms in athletic wear he sees when he drives past fancy neighborhoods.

There’s probably a trail of smoke behind him, but Eddie doesn’t stop, not even when he careens past Gareth and Jeff standing outside the costume shop, near twin confused looks on both their faces.

No, Eddie doesn’t stop until he’s hit the fountain in the middle of the food court.

Then, he simply lifts one leg at a time until he’s in the fountain, and drops his ass right into the water.

“Oh my god,” he whispers to himself, mortification taking the place of his self-confidence.

He tries to replay the moment in his head, to prove to himself it wasn’t that bad, but it’s like his brain won’t even let him do that. It’s too embarrassing to remember. His brain is amnesiaing itself to protect him.

He didn’t even get to see the look on Harrington’s face.

Why couldn’t it have been Buckley?

Something hits his shoulder.

“Hey,” Gareth calls.

Something else hits the water near him, splashing his face.

“Dude,” Jeff says.

This time the penny hits him on the face, and he watches it plink down into the water.

“Aren’t these supposed to be quarters?” he asks morosely, because his life is over and his bandmates are throwing coins at him.

“Bitches be broke,” Gareth replies.

“Plus, quarters would probably hurt more,” Jeff adds. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Eddie groans and buries his face in his knees, the cold fountain water properly seeping into all of his clothes now, including his oh so cool pirate boots.

“I thought you were plundering?” Gareth practically shouts.

“It wasn’t Buckley,” he mumbles into his knees.

“What?”

Eddie pries his face skyward and rolls from his ass to his knees, which puts him high enough that the fountain actually knocks his hat off, soaking the bandana underneath it in seconds. His hair is a lost cause. He presses his hands to his face and lets out a mortifyingly strangled, “WHY” before just falling backwards into the fountain. It’s not deep enough to drown him, unfortunately, so after a moment he sits up again, properly soaked.

“I made an ass of myself in front of Steve Harrington,” he admits, refusing to make eye contact with Gareth or Jeff.

“Steve Harrington?” Gareth repeats, with far more emphasis than should be allowed on one person’s name. “How??”

“He works at Scoops,” Eddie sighs.

Gareth is undoubtedly smiling at Eddie’s terrible luck, but Eddie refuses to give him the satisfaction of looking at him.

“Steve the hair Harrington, who you mooned over all last year, captain of whatever sports team—”

“Basketball and swim,” Jeff fills in.

“--the guy you composed an actual sonnet for in English class? That Steve Harrington?”

“It was a dirty limerick at best,” Eddie corrects.

“Holy shit,” Gareth says. Then, with more emphasis, “Holy shit. And you just walked in there, dressed as a pirate, and said—”

“I’m here for your pleasure chest,” Eddie whispers, but because Gareth has fucking sonic hearing or some shit he hears him, and immediately starts laughing so hard Eddie’s worried he’ll pee himself.

“No,” Jeff says, properly mortified on Eddie’s behalf, because he’s a good friend, unlike traitor Gareth, who is actually using the side of the fountain to support himself now, lest he fall in and drown laughing too hard at Eddie’s life-ending mistake.

“This is how he finds out who I am,” Eddie moans, dragging his sopping wet hands down his face. “I can never come here again.”

“I mean, the mall cop is gonna kick us out for sure if you don’t get out of the fountain, but—”

“Hey.”

Eddie must be having some sort of chlorine fountain related stroke, because that sounds like Steve fucking Harrington’s voice.

He can’t look. He can’t risk Steve seeing his tomato face and his wet cat hair. If Steve Harrington followed him out to the mall food court fountain, Eddie cannot look at him.

He keeps his palms pressed over his face and holds as still as he can. Like if he can’t see Steve and he doesn’t move, Steve won’t be able to see him either.

“Hey,” Jeff replies, and Eddie wishes Gareth would stop laughing long enough to actually help with something. “What’s up, man? I didn’t know you were working here.”

“Yeah,” and it is Steve fucking Harrington, oh no, casually striking up a conversation with Jeff like they aren’t total strangers. Like Steve didn’t rule the school they all attended with no idea who the gutter rats below his throne were. “Needed to do something this summer, you know?”

“I hear you,” Jeff says, because he’s respectable and does know, got himself a part time job at the costume shop, the only reason Eddie could afford this stupid get up. “I’m at the costume shop just down the way.”

“Cool,” Steve says, and it actually sounds like he means it. “Is that where he got the, uh, pirate costume?”

There’s a beat of silence when Gareth stops laughing, and Steve must have gestured to where Eddie is playing the worst game of freeze tag in the middle of the food court fountain. 

“No, that’s, uh, a new performance piece,” Gareth finally says, and it’s not at all convincing but he’s trying, and for that Eddie is willing to forgive nearly wetting his pants over Eddie’s misfortunes. “It’s a, uh, new statue they added.”

“Weeping Odysseus,” Jeff adds, as though an incorrect reference title is enough to convince Steve that the guy who just walked into his workplace and asked for his pleasure chest is actually just a statue in a fountain. 

“Right,” Steve says, like he doesn’t believe them but is willing to play along, and Eddie might be actually having some sort of breakdown, but he thinks he hears a hint of disappointment in Steve’s voice. “I was just— I was hoping to—” he stops, and Eddie wants to look at him so badly, so he shifts his fingers just enough that he can peer between them.

And Steve fucking Harrington is standing at the fountain edge, in his stupid sailor shorts and jaunty little hat, his face a stupidly cute shade of pink. He’s looking at Eddie in the fountain, and moving his fingers was a mistake, because Steve looks at him with his soft brown eyes, making actual honest-to-god eye contact. He actually blushes harder when he spots Eddie’s eye looking back at him. 

Sirens are going off in Eddie’s brain. 

“Maybe when he’s done weeping, Odysseus can come back to the shop,” Steve says, and he’s smiling, looking hopeful or something at Eddie, soaking wet in the middle of the fountain. “I’ve got plenty in my pleasure chest.”

Then Harrington spins on his heel and marches away, and it’s not fair how good his ass looks in the stupid sailor shorts. They’re stupid. Why is he so hot?

Jeff and Gareth watch him go too, but not really in an ass ogling way, more in a disbelieving kind of way. 

“Did Steve Harrington just use your own shitty line back on you?” Gareth asks. 

Eddie stands up abruptly, water spraying everywhere. He sloshes to the edge of the fountain, grabbing his floating hat along the way, and shoves it back onto his head, uncaring of the water pouring off of him all over the mall floor. 

“Excuse me, boys,” he says, unable to stop the dopey grin from spreading across his face. “I’m off to plunder a pleasure chest.”

eddie going in to scoops ahoy dressed as a pirate and saying he’s here to ‘plunder scoops’ treasure chest of ice cream yarhar’ only he gets to the counter and it’s Steve serving, not Robin. He was expecting Robin. What comes out of his mouth is ‘I’m here for your pleasure chest’. Cue eddie turning on his heel, walking out of scoops and sitting himself down in the fountain of the food court, hugging his knees while the corroded coffin boys throw pennies at him.

[baddestbittyontheblock]

mapi león fic recs

you are responsible for the content you consume‼️

❁⊰ spilling the tea mapi león x fem!reader

❁⊰ one night stands mapi león x reader | 18+., heavy smut, mentions of casual sex, choking

❁⊰ just business mapi león x fem!reader

-a businesswoman reader who is accused of being a golddigger by the team

❁⊰ some days are harder than others mapi león x reader | contains some details of mental health issues and insecurities

❁⊰ socializing problems mapi león x reader | not fluff at all, accidental confession, teenager love, a bit of headcanon, reader being a stupid curious, mapi confessing unintentionally, also mapi being an assertive/passive person.

-You are secretly Mapi's love and you have negative impressions about her.

But that ended when Maria accidentally left her sketchbook on the bench at the locker room.

❁⊰ three is better than one alexia putellas, mapi leon x female!reader | smut

-Mapi invites Alexia to join you two.

❁⊰ disobedience mapi león x reader | smut

-a little blurb/ or headcannons about Mapi being a dom, like what pushes her buttons and what punishments she likes to give out?

❁⊰ everything and more mapi león x reader

❁⊰ the swap mapi león x reader | fluff, suggestive content

-why are suddenly being woken by your cat screaming and not her laying on your chest?

❁⊰ you made your mark on me mapi león x reader

-you fuck up the arrangement

❁⊰ mapi ficlet mapi león x reader

-reader gets sent home from the World Cup through an injury and mapi looks after her

❁⊰ "Go to sleep, I will not leave you alone." mapi león x reader

-reader is a war time reporter assigned to Ukraine

❁⊰ too much teasing mapi león x reader

-reader plays for the lionesses and they have a secret relationship going on, during the euros and the lionesses find out about the relationship and tease her about it

❁⊰ mapi ficlet mapi león x reader | fluffy, mapi being protective

-reader gets injured in the last game of the season for barca and is worried about not being able to play in the wc because of the injury.

❁⊰ shyness is nice mapi león x reader

-a shy and swedish reader. mapi wants to know more about them.

❁⊰ woso couple things mapi león x reader | just mapi dating headcanons, fluff, suggestive content

-If there was one thing Mapi loved most, it was being in your arms

❁⊰ if i was a man mapi león/alexia putellas x readers | talk about the Rubiales case and it's a longer oneshot than usual

-OCs are sisters, face claims are the women in the picture underneath: Luisa Ruiz Moreno is a journalist and is dating Mapi Leon, Elena Ruiz Moreno is a football player for Barcelona and Spain, she's in a long-term relationship with Alexia Putellas

❁⊰ one night stands (pt:2) mapi león x reader | literally just sex and a tiny bit of fluff. Minors dni.

❁⊰ teasing m.león x i.engen x reader

-being taller than Mapi and tease her about it but being shorter than Ingrig and then get tease by her >>>

❁⊰ the kit switch mapi león x reader | implications of intimacy, offhand mention of blood

-“Took you long enough!” You heard someone laugh from across the locker room. Looking up, you saw Mapi standing in the doorway looking adorably smug.

❁⊰ rules are meant to be broken mapi león x reader

-The Spanish national team are in Italy for a friendly, the game just played ended in a 1-1 draw, goals coming from you and Alexia. Both teams had just congratulated each other on a good game of football. The Spain girls now standing with their families. They watch as you and Alexia swap shirts, the later quick to wear yours.

❁⊰ please mapi león x reader

-mapi does CPR on R

❁⊰ powerful mapi león x reader

-Powerful. That was one word you could describe your girlfriend.

❁⊰ collision madness mapi león x reader | mentions of blood, swearing, slight smut implication, teeny bit of playful grop!ng

-in which mapi and the reader are secretly dating, and both play for Barcelona. during a game against real madrid, the reader gets into a nasty collision with the goal post after being pushed into it during a corner. mapi gets extremely protective and angry, earning herself a red card.

❁⊰ mapi blurb mapi león x reader

-mapi x reader where they play each other in the uwcl final. after the game reader asks for mapi’s shirt but mapi is confused as she already has loads. reader replies that she wants to see how good her new colours will look on her. mapi finds out there that reader is joining barca

❁⊰ so it goes (part 3) mapi león x reader | minors dni(swearing, sexual content, phone sex).

❁⊰ like a best friend mapi león x reader | 18+ minors dni, if you don't like butt stuff, do not read this. Cunnilingus, fingering, butt plugs.

-maria buys you a birthday present, then shows you how to use it.

[realbeefman]

Do you have any good house fic recs? I am Struggling with my search.

for sure! although Disclaimer, i havent been reading house fanfic for very long and ive pretty much only read house/wilson so far, SO this is more of a hilson fic rec list than anything lol

Warning Signs by out_there - oneshot, 12k words, Wilson-POV, set around the end of s3. SUCH A GOOD FIC i laughed so much while reading this. genuinely delightful. possibly my fav house fic i’ve ever had the pleasure of reading.

The Line of Thought by tevinterimperium - oneshot, 12k, Wilson-POV, set after s3 e15. THEEE classic fake-dating AU. this was the first fic i read in this fandom and it absolutely fucks. im a SAP i love a good “no homo but OH GOD THE FEELINGS” plot!!

Desert Mesa Motel - 8 miles outside of Kingman, Arizona - 12:03 AM by plorp - ficlet, 1k, House-POV, post-canon. this makes me BAWL. very very good fic but SAD. and DEPRESSING. will make you CRY/pos

How Not To Be Boring by fourleggedfish - incomplete/abandoned, 497k, Wilson-POV, AU from around mid-s5. if u like whump (which i absolutely do) u will probably like this fic. if u are squicked out by sex, u will hate it bc these guys bang 24/7. this fic had me pacing, glued to my phone, sick to my stomach, crying (several times), and obliterated my sleep schedule. i can’t rec it highly enough. every chapters includes appropriate content warnings, but some major themes that appear throughout are character death (not of main characters), the aftermath of severe child abuse, and mental illness. if any of these topics are a trigger for you, please don’t read this work.

Forsake Me Here by MonsterBoyf - complete, 8k, Wilson-POV, ambiguous setting. Wilson has intrusive thoughts about mutilating House. He tries to cope. features a lot of very graphic imagery and does an excellent but extremely accurate job of portraying an OCD-spiral that could be triggering to people. i LOVE this fic i think about it so so much.

An Inconvenient Truth by anathaema - complete, 15k, House-POV, ambiguous setting. contains the quote “You’re the suicide bomber of revelations” and is one of the funniest things i’ve ever read. plus the way in which wilson’s sexuality in this fic is handled is honestly so realistic and entertaining. HIGHLY recc this to absolutely everyone who enjoys hilson

the more it took away by scribespirare - oneshot, 10k, House-POV, ambiguous setting. Omega!House has his first heat since presenting. Alpha!Wilson helps him through it. I LOVE OMEGAVERSE AND I LOVE FUCK OR DIE AND I LOVE THE WAY THIS FIC HANDLES THIS IS JUST GRAHHHH. If u don’t enjoy omegaverse u won’t like this but i can’t make a house fic rec list and NOT include this one

Aftershocks by black_cigarette - series, around 125k in total, various POV’s, set sometime post-Tritter arc. this fic IS gen, but honestly, i didn’t know that going in and didn’t realize it wasn’t a slash fic until the very end. tldr is that wilson is brutally assaulted because house has been gambling with some unsavory people, and house helps him deal with the aftermath. this fic does not pull punches. its is extremely graphic and everything wilson goes through is described in detail. it is a messy story about recovering from brutal trauma and everything that entails. DISCLAIMER: there are sequel(s) to this series available on the author’s livejournal, but i haven’t read them and can’t speak to anything they discuss.

no need to worry (making up your mind) by scribespirare - complete, 25k, House-POV, set sometime in the early seasons. House lies about having a Jewish boyfriend to get out of visiting his mother at Christmas. Things quickly get out of hand. THIS FIC IS SOOO *tears into it with my teeth*. I love when they scheme together <3

[penny00dreadful]

So... some of you may have noticed my fics have come to a screeching halt the last couple of months which is not like me and I am here to explain myself.

Babygirl, I have been preparing.

The end of this month is my 1 year anniversary of posting in this fandom, of posting any of my work online after not doing it for like fifteen fucking years and it has brought me so much incandescent joy, I decided I had to do something for it.

(I've also hit like... several milestones which is fucking insane like you all know I'm just some cranky bog witch, right??)

I have been working on my WIPs for over the last two months. All... holy mother of god... like nine of them???

Some of these have been completed, some I am still writing and some are mostly done.

So starting from my anniversary date, 23rd October, every second or third day, I'll be posting a chapter of something.

I have so much material built up this shit could go on until 2024

@hbyrde36 called it my own personal Penny00Dreadful BigBang... and yeah kinda! 😅

I wanted to do this to show just how much I love this community. Your kind words, your support, your unhinged ramblings, your obsessive love, your talent (for free??) it's all amazing it's so amazing and I wanted to explode forth with my love for it so I figured why the fuck not do this stupid idea??😅

All of these will be posted both to tumblr and AO3 so subscribe over there to keep updated or follow me here!

OH! And let me know if you wanna be tagged! If you wanna be tagged for a specific fic or for everything I'll add you, whatever you want.

You've made me so happy and so warm for the last year. The way I know if I'm having a bad day I just need to hop onto this side of tumblr and everything will be peaches and gravy again.

I love you guys so much. 😘🖤

Updated Schedule - (18th Feb 2024)

Fic list with blurbs below the cut, this will (roughly) be the order they're posted in:

Return of The King - COMPLETE

Steddie Vampire AU with a twist! Vampire Steve comes back after falling to the bats. There is two more chapters left and those chapters have been completed.

Comeuppance - COMPLETE

Dustin just wants Steve to be happy. So he tries to parent trap him with Nancy. Clearly they should be together. But Steve's heart doesn't even seem to be in it at all! How is he so bad at this? And Eddie is being less than helpful

Rookie Mistake - COMPLETE

My Steddie Established Relationship Spies AU oneshot that will have a multi-chapter prequel fic coming very soon after!

Eddie is "retired" and Steve has been injured on the job, so he's supposed to be taking it easy. How hard could a walk to the gas station be?

Before He Cheats - COMPLETE

Songfic! Carrie Underwood - Before He Cheats

I literally have no excuse for this one. The rotted brainworms were behind the steering wheel with this one.

One evening, Eddie gets a call from some guy named Steve dropping the news on him that his boyfriend has been cheating on him. With this Steve person and Steve had no idea up until that day.

And Eddie rarely takes that shit lying down.

Steddievember Smut - COMPLETE

No Nut November is here! One can play however he wants. The other just has to wait for December to roll around. I have no other words to describe what this will be, it does what it says on the tin. I blame the STWG discord server. Currently we're looking at four little ficlets for this.

Cat and Mouse - COMPLETE

The Steddie Spies AU Prequel! How they got together and the extreme ups and downs their enemies/rivals to lovers journey goes through. I had so much fun with this one.

And They Were Roommates! - COMPLETE

omg they were roommates.

Steve and Eddie don't hate each other exactly. They just... tolerate each other. But one night Eddie doesn't come home for hours. Long after he's supposed to and it's not like Steve is worried or anything... he's just... concerned for a fellow human being... that's all.

Through The Valley - IN PROGRESS

Post-Apocalyptic AU. Eddie, Dustin and Nancy have a nice little community of survivors outside of Hawkins that they take care of, surviving day to day. Everyone's a little broken, missing the rest of their Party just hoping that one day they'll find each other again.

Devotion

Dungeons and Dragons AU. Steve is the golden boy of the small town of Hawkins. Harrington in name and now a Paladin with his very own oath to hunt down the Bard, the witch Eddie Munson and bring him back to justice under High Priest Henry Creel.

[thevioletcaptain]

Day two of the @spnficrecfest is all about kink!

Given that Dean has several established kinks in canon, I've decided to list one fic for each! Which kinks in particular? I'm talking cowboys, tentacles, satiny panties, doctors, and being dominated by his partners -- whether that means being slapped around, or just being given some sexy rules to follow.

Some of these fics are set in the canon universe and some are AU, but all of them feature or explore some aspect of one of Dean's canonically established kinks. Enjoy!

boy leave your boots by the bed by an_ardent_rain Explicit | 9.8k | 🤠

I've had this fic on my to-read list since it was published last September, and I'm so mad at myself for leaving it so long. It's post-canon, set in the open-world Heaven 2.0 that Jack and Cas made, and Dean's cowboy kink not only features heavily throughout, it also serves a catalyst for change in Dean and Cas' relationship. It's hot and sweet in equal measure, and just a really beautifully written fic.

Dean and Castiel's Lagoon of Love by almaasi Explicit | 12.5k | 🐙

This one is described by the author as "Tentacle Porn For People Who Don't Usually Enjoy Tentacle Porn." While I can't speak to how true that might be, this enjoyer of tentacles had a great time. Set in an alternate canon where Cas remained human, the fic opens with Team Free Will arriving back at the bunker after a witch turned Cas into an octopus from the waist down. Dean's desire to have him act out the story of "Sweet Princess Asuka Meets the Tentacles of Pleasure" cannot be repressed, and Cas is more than willing to play along. Just normal boy bestie things!

Satin and Sawdust by Ltleflrt Explicit | 159k | 🩲

If you haven't already read Satin and Sawdust, let this be the day you check it out -- and if you have already read it, here's a sign that it's time to read it again. For the uninitiated, this AU is a rare treat in which Cas is the one having a sexuality crisis, all thanks to his neighbor (and handyman) Dean, whose low-riding waistband and extensive collection of lacy underwear is rapidly driving him out of his mind. It's been a while since I read this fic, but I was just thinking of it earlier this week, so it's definitely time to dive back in. (Side note, the fact that I can't change the color of the underwear emoji is an attack on my freedom of expression or whatever.)

Gimme the News by robotsnchicks Explicit | 1.9k | 🥼

This AU oneshot leans into Dean's medical kink, as he goes to see Doctor!Cas about a potentially "lost" sex toy, and requests a thorough examination. It's tightly written, packing plenty into 1,960 words, and also has some really great characterization -- from Dean's blend of humor and horniness to Cas' exasperation... and horniness. If you're worried about potential dubcon, check the author's end notes for some spoilers left out of the main fic tags :)

dying to let you know by bisexualsage Explicit | 4.7k | 🙇‍♂️

One of my absolute favorite things is when authors use kink as a vehicle for character exploration, and this established relationship post-canon ficlet delivers -- digging into why both Dean and Cas enjoy the dynamics they've found themselves playing out in the bedroom. This fic does have a dash of daddy kink, so beware of that if it's a squick!

Check under the cut for links to all of the rec lists I make for this fest! I'll update with new links as I post them :)

Day One - Purgatory Era Day Two - Dean's Canon Kinks Day Three - Long Fics Day Four - Alternate Universes Day Five - Rare Pairs Day Six - Case Fics Day Seven - Tropes Day Eight - Gen Fics Day Nine - Vintage Fics Day Ten - Coda Fics Day Eleven - Mystery List

[fandomsandfairytales]

Fic Recs for Elrond Week 2024

Hello! Here’s a last-minute handful of Elrond-centric fic recs to wrap up Elrond Week 2024. (Time got away from me this week!)

These fics are all rated G or T, and I’ve loosely categorized them into groups so it’s a bit easier to parse through them. I also noted ones I recc’d in my 2023 Fic Recs list, which I posted on my main blog, @awwyeah107. I'm tagging each author in this list once (if they have a Tumblr account), although there may be more than one story from an author in the list.

Also, to clarify, none of these were written *for* Elrond Week—these are all simply fics about our beloved peredhel that I've enjoyed and wanted to share/recommend.

Massive shoutout to @meluiloth for putting on Elrond Week! I’ve greatly enjoyed seeing all the posts this week cross my dash. Also, thank you to all of the fic authors, fan artists, and meta writers out there who celebrate Elrond ❤️

Elrond & [Biological or Married] Family

The Complexities of Avian Biology by @runawaymun Celebrían takes on a charity case. Elrond helps, because of course he does. Some Celrond fluff by request. (Oneshot, G, 776 words)

Without depth or bound by waitingfover Love is never an easy emotion to navigate, particularly if you also hate the other person's guts. or Elrond doesn’t like Celebrían’s attitude, Celebrían hates Elrond’s guts, Gil-Galad is determined to play matchmaker, and Celebrimbor just wants to be left out of this drama. (23 chapters, complete! T, 29k words)

Wealth Enough of Joy by @starspray Elladan and Elrohir are born at twilight in summer. (Oneshot, G, 1.6k words. Recc’d this in my 2023 Fic Recs list)

Athelas by erulisse_starchild Estel gets a lesson in herb-lore from Elrond. (Oneshot, G, 831 words)

Hiding Places by @sweetteaanddragons (Drag0nst0rm on AO3) It had been a long time since Elrond was last under a bed. The novelty was probably good for him. (Oneshot, G, 437 words)

Kind as Summer by @arofili (starlightwalking on AO3) Elrond and his family, after the First Age. A collection of ficlets from tumblr prompts, loosely related to one another. (8 chapters, complete! G, 2.1k words)

More than the Stars Above by sweetteaanddragons (Drag0nst0rm on AO3) Elrond had lived without his parents for this long. He could certainly continue to do so if they proved to be indifferent. That didn't stop his hand from shaking when he reached out to knock on the door. (2 chapters, complete! G, 5.6k words. Recc’d this in my 2023 Fic Recs list)

Blossoming Red by @bralesscommie Snapshots of Elrond throughout his life. A character study. Elrond dealing with his trauma, and finding his rare moments of joy. (Oneshot, T, 4.9k words)

Elrond & Friends

Demons by @theheirofashandfire (ScribeofArda on AO3) On a dark night in Imladris, with the Watchful Peace having come to a bloody end, one elf finds that the darkness brings back unwanted memories of flames and fear. And Glorfindel can remember all of the fall of Gondolin. (Oneshot, T, 4.5k words)

Old Swords by StarSpray Elrond and Gandalf chat about Glamdring. (Oneshot, G, 661 words)

Primary Sources by @cycas (bunn on AO3) Bilbo Baggins, now living in Rivendell is working on his Translations from the Elvish and needs some help. He learns a few things about Elven board games, plumbing and housework in Rivendell, a little bit about the War of Wrath, and something about Elrond's family. It might just be that making songs about Eärendil in the House of Elrond was not something that Elrond himself considered to be over Bilbo's head. (Oneshot, G, 4.4k words)

Kidnap Fam

Note: All of the Kidnap Fam fics here are Elrond-centric—either they are from his perspective, or they primarily focus on Elrond and Maglor and/or Maedhros.

And Love Repaid by sweetteaanddragons (Drag0nst0rm on AO3) It was never about owing. (Oneshot, G, 2.3k words)

See How They Grow by @grundyscribbling (Grundy on AO3) Elrond wasn't born a great healer. Some would have said living among Feanorians was an unlikely place to start that journey. (Maglor probably would have agreed with them.) (Oneshot, G, 11.7k words)

Rosemary, Fennel, & Rue by grundyscribbling (Grundy on AO3) Maedhros stumbles onto an unhealthy secret Elrond has been keeping. Elrond is surprised to find Maedhros has experience in these matters. (Oneshot, G, 5.7k words)

Once They Were Wolves by @elentarial (BaccaratBlack on AO3) After receiving an unexpected Midwinter gift, Elrond learns something new about one of his captors fathers. (2 chapters, complete! G, 2.4k words)

Quiet by sweetteaanddragons (Drag0nst0rm on AO3) Dust blanketed Maglor’s harp where it sat undisturbed in the corner. (Oneshot, G, 566 words)

Series

On Elrond Peredhel by @elvinye (leodesic on AO3) A series examining Elrond's kidnap-adoption [and Elrond himself] from a variety of different perspectives. (In-progress series of 13 works, each between 1-2 chapters, all rated T or G. Only AO3 users can read this fic.) (Note: For anyone who does not ship Russingon—like me—the series does contain it, but it is minor and can be skipped over fairly easily.)

Return to Aman by cycas (bunn on AO3) A series of stories about Elrond's return to Aman at the end of the Third Age. All these assume that Maglor son of Fëanor was one of the other unnamed Elves who accompanied Elrond, Galadriel, Gandalf, Frodo and Bilbo on the ship when they left Middle-earth. Point of view is usually either Maglor or Elrond, but occasionally someone else (Celebrian, Lalwen, Nerdanel...) (Complete series of 15 works, each between 1-5 chapters, all rated G. Recc’d this in my 2023 Fic Recs list)

AUs

The Last Homely Hostel by sweetteaanddragons (Drag0nst0rm on AO3) Barin was nearly entirely sure this hostel wasn't supposed to be here. It won't be the last unexpected appearance of the night. (Oneshot, G, 5k words)

we will make this place our home by @leucisticpuffin Elrond and Elros are sent to live with their distant cousins in a house that is crumbling slowly to pieces. They aren't especially happy about this. For Maedhros and Maglor, the twins are a rare chance to start living again. It will take a lot of work to turn a house full of ghosts into anything resembling a home. (70 chapters, in-progress! G, 259.5k words. Only AO3 users can read this fic. Recc’d this in my 2023 Fic Recs list)

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@elrondweek

Other Fic Rec Lists: 2023 Fic Recs (on my main blog)

[revelisms]

I keep nosing through my half-written Arcane things and feeling the itch to write it again, so I finally dusted off this little ficlet. Short and sweet domestic oneshot about Jinx, Silco's oddball crime family, and card games 🃏

stratagems

WC: 1.6k | Rating: G | Jinx-centric | Domestic fluff, found family, gambling, character study Also on AO3

Tuesdays are slow nights at the Last Drop—the kind that smoulder on for hours, the neon dimmed to only a fractal prism across velvet booths and varnish-glossed tables: nights for myths and recollections spun to liquor-sweet grandeur, and books read aloud in grinning theatrics, and cards shlack-clack-clacked together between Sevika's weathered fingers, slicked across the table like darts to waiting hands.

When she was meek and younger and still reeling from it all, these nights felt magical. In some ways, they held a candle to those small, rare moments, carefully treasured, of when things in that dingy little storeroom, cramped between three others and Vander's bellowing laugher, felt okay. 

It's different, now. 

The storeroom's locked up; her brothers and sister-mother-Vi are all gone, gone, gone; Vander's dead, betrayed, rotting, deserved; she's older and restless and lonely and bored. 

But there are three others, still. 

Sat at a table across from Sevika's rippling hands—glinting augmentation and golden rings, shuffling cards with a magician's ease—is a mountain of a man, his sickly-pale skin littered with a patchwork of black tattoos. 

Lock. Hemlock, when she'd told him Lock was a weird name—and then he'd glared down at her with his beady eyes, incense smoke-blue: gruffed, Don't you call me it.

He had a puggishness about him, not a hair on his body save the coarse clumps that lined his burly arms and flared out from the low cut of his tattered tank like a spit of soot. His voice was cavernous and dry: not like Silco's: like he'd swallowed rocks and kept the dust, rumbling and rough with a gravel that flowed like music on a foggy day; Lock's was deep and scratchy and altogether unpleasant, but warm. He wheezed more than laughed. His smile split his face to a crescent of yellowing pikes. He called her Little Devil.

He swipes up six cards between his bulky fingers, tongues his cheek, and skips two over to Ran—who Silco said once went by Rania; who kept their hair sharp as black fins. Jinx could count on one hand the number of times they'd said more than five words in passing to her. Their eyes were like dim violets, and they soothed her, in the strangest way: found the ache in her heart like a quiet beacon, and held it. They liked to tousle their metal fingers through her hair, muss her fringe to a squealing mess. They called her Blue.

At the bar, bent over a dissembled revolver carved with gold, sat dusty little Dustin, head in the clouds, painted nails flecked with gun oil and a rag in his ink-blitzed hands. Talking to him was like dissecting a parable. He spoke in tongues, seemingly flipping through his days on a catalogue of obscure references: a code one had to crack over a lifetime to understand. Jinx, though, had taken the feat to heart. She'd spent hours peering through his craftings and margin-scrawled notes, like one may study an abstract to glean its meaning. She would squirm next to him when the nights grew too quiet, painting in the chips of varnish on his nails and humming his strange tunes. He had eyes like black buttons, and freckles on his nose. His smile was the kindest. He called her Jay.

She didn't know which name she liked best—which one of them she liked best. But she liked the lot of them all more than Sevika.

At least they didn't glare at her, or call her brat or runt, or wait for her to screw things up, like always. 

Then again. She was, first and foremost to them, some kid in their boss's care—she'd heard Lock grumble that more than once, like a warning—their boss, who had been nose-deep in a monstrosity of trade edicts and contracts and whatever else; who hadn't given her a glance when she peeked her head around the door to his office, huffing, Not now, Jinx. 

That had been hours ago. He still hadn't come down.

She kicks the toe of her boot against her chair, sat in a knot with its back to her chest, and sighs. 

The cards dance between Sevika's hands like a flurry of white-capped wings. Jinx watches from three tables away as she flicks out another round, a cigarillo embering between her teeth.

"Two for two."

"'Course you gives us that," Lock snarls. "Deck's loaded."

"All skills of the trade." A puff of smoke, the roll twisting between ambered fingers. "Dish 'em out, you brute."

The cards glimmer spell-like across the table. Jinx presses her chin into her arm, trying and failing and trying again to follow the strategy of the game. They moved in turns of three: trading in singles, drawing pairs, discarding all at once. It was too quick for her to follow. 

Footsteps creak down the stairs. She whips over her shoulder, staring through her fringe. Thieram—Chuck, as she'd insisted on calling him, just to make his ears color—meets her eyes with a skittish blink, and beelines for the bar. She scowls, hunching back in her seat.

Ran wins the round, with a coy grin and a smack of their cards on the table. Lock pounds the varnish hard enough to knock the deck over.

Jinx aches to put on a gramophone record, to get up and dance, bang on that dusty old piano by the back tables, anything. More creaking down the stairs, glass rattling, Dustin humming his old songs, boots th-thump th-thumping slow over the panelling. 

She smells the spice-sweet of his cigars before she feels him find his way beside her. 

His presence is less a quiet comfort as it is a blistered, bleeding reconnection: the wash of his cold energy startling, and sharp, and soothing, all at once.

"At it again, are they?" Silco drawls.

Jinx pitters her fingers over her elbow. "Yeah."

He hums. He's wearing green today: a dark, blueish sort. "Give them an ounce of time to themselves, and they gamble it away," he grouses. His fingers tick. He sighs. "I've kept you." The words carry the start of an apology. "This week's dealings were—"

"Unexpected?" Jinx quips.

"One could say."

"Annoying?"

"Dreadfully."

"Mister Finn being a big stupid-head, again?"

"A horrendous one." A small smirk slides over his mouth, crooked at one corner: the one he reserves only for her. "But no matter." 

It's a roundabout dismissal. It means, I'm sorry; means, My time is yours, now; means he will wait until she proffers an explanation for her gawping through the smoke-hazed green of his office, anything beyond I just wanted to sit with you, but anything beyond that would be a lie.

She presses her thumb into the chair's spine. After a moment, his eyes flit down to her. "They've not showed you how to play?" he mutters.

She shakes her head.

"It's simple enough." He folds his hands behind his back, tilting his head, and watches the whirlwind of motion that continues on before them. "You know the suits, don't you?" A shrug of her shoulders. "Well, then. Four kings; four aces. Hold either set of those, and you win. Anything in the middle is fair game to keep, or toss, or trade."

She frowns. "That's it?" It had seemed far more complicated than that, from all she'd gleaned.

"That's it." His eyes fall on her, mismatched. His fingers turn at his back. "Come," he murmurs, "I'll show you. One can hardly learn, without practice." 

As seemed to be his philosophy for everything, for better or worse. Trial by fire, mastery through mistake, and all that.

(Who's to say whether one can sink or swim, without first giving themselves to the deep?) 

He'd carried that philosophy like a mantle when he had sent her on her first missions, shadowing her movements with watchful eyes; or when he had tasked her with duties under Sevika's wing, or Lock's, or Ran's, or Dustin's. In things as small and simple as organizing his paperwork for him (client contracts on the bottom, client files above that, then industry reports, and industry-related headlines, and financial records); in things as precise as his daily injections of shimmer to his rotted eye, that she had learned and denied was killing him by inches, her finger shaking on the trigger that first and only time (nothing different from a bullet, child) and nimble as a fine-tuned machine, ever since.

He steps away from the shadows, into the gold, an unspoken invitation—and she watches, quietly intrigued, at the actions that follow: chairs squeaked, smokes raised, Sir's and Hey, Boss's bounced around the table. Sevika drags up an extra seat. He gives a nod to her reshuffled cards and Thieram's expectant glance, in turns.

A tray of carved glasses and a fifth of whisky is carried over, each gift deposited to the table in heavy thunks. Silco takes the first pour. The ambered sheen of the liquor fractures over the table like shattered glass. "Have a seat, child."

She's on her feet, sheepishly, in an instant: clumsy steps skittering over the floor: a birdish thing at a table of wolves, trying fruitlessly to don their fangs. 

A chair is cleared for her between Lock's black-mapped shoulder and Ran's tick-ticking fingers. She slumps into it, quickly. Sevika's eyes burn into her.

Silco deals out thirty cards—six for each of them—with a lazying flourish of his fingers, and ends the litter on Jinx.

"A game of luck," he tells her, without care for the looming prowl of their company. The gravel of his voice has the strangest way of twisting the world on its head, as though it is only the two of them. It always does. "Welcome to Crowns."

He gives a touch of a smile, there and gone in an instant. She smiles sheepishly back.

Then, the five of them descend upon their drawings—and, quick as lightning, they play.

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Tag Game: Writing Pattern

Thank you to @writer-of-worlds for the tag!

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

Gently tagging @fourwingedwriter @stargazer-luna @blackrosesandwhump @annakayy @elizaellwrites and open tag! :D

Here goes nothing!

June of Doom Day 1

Whumpee sprinted blindly through the thicket, hands uselessly trying to protect their face from the branches that whipped and stung at their skin.

Victoria Rescues Sam

“I wish to speak with Blizzard."

Killian Poison Ficlet

In hindsight, Killian should’ve expected something to go wrong.

Gunblade Duo Used as Bait Oneshot

The trek back through Zariya was even more tense than the initial trip.

Moonlight

The moonshadow elf had been following Jin for some time now.

First Meeting

First contact happened the night Diana decided against going out to play for the nearby inn.

Getting Stabbed Hurts, Who'd have thought? (Magician's Bait, Part 6)

Reese’s head pounded like her skull was being used as a child’s drum set.

Cinderheart

Jin was surrounded by darkness, no longer the angry, invincible, uncontrollable monster but herself before the painful transformation.

Please Don't Kill the Messenger

Octavian moved quickly through the forest, following an old deer path south.

Whumpril Day 8, Day 16

Whumpee could feel the cough rising in their chest, the unbearable tickling, burning sensation in their throat as they held it back.

[slutsofren]

would you mind writing a little ficlet (or hcs) of the batboys and reader taking care of their newborn?

ever since i read the oneshot where reader goes into labor, i've been going FERAL at the thought of the batboys being loving dads set in the hloc universe🥺🥺

but only if you're comfortable and if you want to!!! you don't have to do this if you don't want to, no hard feelings 💜

OOH THIS IS GOOD

okay so i should start with a blanket message. i, personally, do not have children, i do not know how to raise a child save for a cat who is my pride and joy. i do not wish to have a child in my life. with that being said i will likely get a lot of things (lol everything) wrong in more detailed ways but hey, that's why this is a fantasy fic right lol

as always, details under the cut!! i went for general attitudes towards your pregnancy in the high lady universe but if you want something a wee bit different just shoot on over an ask :> 🤍🌹

**i will not be posting this to ao3 so it is a ✨tumblr exclusive✨

cw: babies, a little bit of violence mentioned but nothing bad :>

Azriel

az was the first one to try and get you pregnant and yes, he was trying multiple times a day for it to take so when the little flutter first happened, he cried. big fat tears.

when the babe was born with dripping black onyx wings az had weeped, they all did

he began to take less spy missions that would keep him away longer than a few hours just to stay home with his child, at least until they would old enough yeah right

it would take him months before he was able to stay a single night away on a mission at which point you had to reassure him with multiple kisses that the two of you would be fine

he cared for you in every single way possible, physically, mentally, emotionally, and would do everything in his power to keep you both happy

you wanted a bath? absolutely, here is your bath but let him take the baby, no it's fine he wanted to hold them :)

there would be nights where the babe would wake and cry and az would jump up and immediately take to them, consoling their cries

you'd watch as az would gently murmur stories from memory, of a high lady who fought to the death for her lovers, stories of you

az always was and always will be the protector of your little family

Cassian

absolute loser of a daddy

he didnt know the first thing of being a dad and he sure as hell did not know how to care for one

all brawn and very little brain for baby 101

he was never sure if he wanted kids when he first met you but seeing you pregnant, seeing his family, he was satisfied with whatever the outcome may be

he once tried to give baby a dagger when they were still a toddler and if you listen closely you could still hear Rhys’ voice shouting “NO” from the mountains of Illyria

for the first few weeks, cass was afraid he was going to drop the baby so he avoided holding them at all costs, leaving it to az and you

it wasnt until you assured him it was going to be fine did he give in, only to immediately start crying when he realized this was his family. he had a family. everything he fought for was for this.

cass was a warrior and he was absolutely going to be the one who trained your babies how to kick ass like him

Rhysand

rhys always was and always will be the most hesitant of the daddies

it took him time to come to terms with your pregnancy only because he lost his first family so violently, he wasn't sure if he was ready for that step but he knew he wanted it with you

rhys was the one who would secretly take the babe under the cover of darkness outside to practice flying as a surprise for you all

knowing the childhood of your other mates, he did everything he could to ensure none of your babies would ever grow up in violence like them or be in want of affection

with that being said, he became much more violent towards members of his court of nightmares.

he was a high lord so he was often not home but he would be damned to let the disease fester and grow under his reign, and he would make sure none of your children would shoulder his burden

to him, rhys did not care if he was biologically the father of any of your babies but he would fight wars for them so they would never have to

[partywithoutsmiling]

@lovepeacestar

I imagine there is lot of confusion at first- and shock, definitelly the shock

The thing is- and what I headcanon- Troll hair is sacred; and while only Pop Trolls seem to be able to use it essentially as an extension of themselves, I imagine for all of the trolls, it is still very sensitive and point of pride

Which would make Barb reaching into Poppy's hair a rather violating move- for a Pop Troll especially, as their hair sensitivity is probably highest of then Troll kind

(Ngl, that would make for a good ficlet/oneshot, I could explore this further XD)

So even if Branch is clearly sporting musical Strings in his hair- it is still his hair, and reaching into it and plucking them is a major taboo

Honestly, I think few trolls would be stunned in that 'oh why didnt I realize sooner', that those are Strings in Branch's hair- definitelly Delta Dawn, who Branch met very early and developed frienship with (Along with Barb and to an extent Trollex)

Poppy, whose knowledge about the Strings would be the most recent.... Honestly, I think she would have been the only one who would suspect there is something more to them, but her fear of pushing Branch away would stall any questions she would have

The big point of if all however though- Branch wouldn't allow the strings to be used as a crutch for the music anymore Arguing he was able to find music inside himself even without the strings' help

In fact, it was his singing, him enjoying and making music, that led to the Strings' creation And he would encourage the Trolls to try and do the same, much like they had in the movie

Trolls would of course be curious about the seventh String, but honestly, with all that happened at the moment, it would probably take a while for someone to actually try and draw attention to it XD

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As for Branch's brothers, hmmmm Honestly, from the movies, it seemed to be that the Pop String's existence- and the existence of other Trolls- turned to be a carefully guarded Royal Secret, that went on for generations

Probably in effort for the Pop Royals to erase the crime they almost commited and to pain themselves all squeaky clean

Now, bit of musing, but

There has been a screenshot of an updated map from some sort of converence (avialable of Troll Wiki), what poses few questions

From this map, we can see that Bergen Town itself is rather far away from The Troll Kingdom Territories- the current ones at least; yet it was implied (and widely accepted) that the Troll Tree used to be the Capitol of Trolls in general, not just Pop Trolls

I know the movies have more plot holes than a doily lol, but given the turbulent history of Strings, it would have made sense for the other Tribes to run away as far as the could from Pop

And yet, Peppy was in possession of a Map that showed all current Kingdoms- and was still outdated, given Branch's comment about Disco

This is bit chaotic once more but bear with me XD I know most fans accept that Brozone broke out when they were already locked up in the tree, but I am pretty sure the creators stated that the break up happened before Bergen Town even locked up the Pop Trolls

Given the position of the abandoned golf course- abandoned, being the key words- we can assume the Bergens by themselves were rather migratory, and left the land where the golf course is situated because of some reasons

As it is, the Pop Troll territory must have been huge- easily spanning the woods around Bergen town, including what used to be before Bergen town, and reaching far north to cover what is known as Pop Troll Territory now That would make the Pop Troll populace- back then at least- massive compared to other Tribes- certainly enough that the little territory they have now has not been contested since the Separation of Strings

And yet the map that Poppy is using only includes the current Kingdoms, as outdated as it apparently is Meaning the creator of the map made it with the assumption that the Pop Territory won't be any larger than that- Or it was just one map of many, and the only one worth keeping, when the Bergens started decimating their numbers to the point that they could no longer hold any larger territory than that

Anyway, I got derailed XD

But, as I wanted to say, I don't think the previous Pop Royals were the nicest of Trolls, and seemed to definitelly made it their goal to erase every dirty little secret, keeping the existence of the Pop String to themselves

If the knowledge of either other genres or the String was not forbidden, they would have been stories passed down from parents to a child- and yet the current Pop Trolls are completely ignorant, and probably has been for a looooong time, even before Bergens found them delicious to snack on

That means at the time of the band breaking, none of Branch's brother even had idea that the Strings existed- and at the end of world tour, probably only Floyd- who is present- would have any idea to their Significance

JD perhaps has any idea other genres exists, but Bruce and Clay doesn't seem to be aware of either, as according to the map, they woudn't even have a chance of meeting other Trolls, unless they were some minor genre tribe

As it is, Branch probably now feels very selfconscious about the Strings, and isn't really keen on drawing attention to them After all, it does paint a very obvious target on his back, as not all Trolls posses the morals to not try and pluck the String to themselves

(Chaz certainly seem to be the type)

[clazaries]

Hi 🤗♥️

I saw that you opened requests for Oscar Isaac and lately I'm in full obsession with Dune

I wanted to see if you would like to write oneshot fluff about Duke Leto x reader.

The duke and his wife have been happily married for years and have a daughter who is just 14 years old.

She is totally daddy's girl, always following him where he goes and seeing him as if her father had hung the same stars, but lately she seems more and more rebellious and distant. Defying his father every chance he gets and being a constant pain in the Duke's mind. Then he and the reader talk about it.

And the duke confesses that he has a great fear of losing his daughter, but the reader reassures him.

It can end however you want (angry or fluffy)

Hope you have a nice day (Sorry if I wrote everything wrong, English is not my native language) ❣️🤗

A small ficlet for you! Thanks for the request!!

"I just...I just don't know what to do," your Duke sighs. You know that whenever your Duke speaks plainly and shows such a lack of restraint of his emotions tells you that you know he has very limited options. "It's like she's going through this god-complex, trying her hardest to make everyone around her feel inferior to her. She has no respect, disobeys every word and lacks responsibility. How am I suppose to manage my own responsibilities when I'm having to make excuses for hers?"

For the last few months it's become common knowledge amongst all those serving under House Atreides that the Duke has been struggling to contain the temperment of his 14 year old daughter, especially those have fallen directly into the firing line of her unsavory behaviour.

As a chambermaid only a few rotations older than the Duke's daughter, it isn't common for you to discuss such matters with the Duke, let alone be in the same room as him, but recently he's begun confiding in you in a way you were never trained for, so your hesitance to help him doesn't go unnoticed. But after seeing how defeated he is sitting on the edge of his bed, looking rather unruly, you decide to chance the same luck. "May I speak plainly, my duke?"

"Please." He looks up to you as if you are the beholder of all wisdom, fingers still tracing the grain of his beard.

"You had lived many rotations before I was even born, so I cannot judge on who you were, but I can speak on who you are now. Everyone knows that you are a leader and a fighter. A good one; even-handed and compassionate. And for that, you have attained Caladan's respect and loyalty. But you are also a father. Her father exclusively. Nobody else on Caladan can share the honour of being your daughter, only her."

His eyes travel over you like he's seeing a side of you he hadn't before, adding to the profile he already has in his head. "It's so curious to me that you are only a few years older than her but yet so vastly different. Why can't I make her see it the way you do?"

Because you've pampered her from the moment she left the womb. Alas, you have more sense to remember what kind of consequences you'd face should you have spoken those words so candidly.

"By blurring the lines of being a leader, a fighter and a father. By letting her see the reason of why you are Duke of Caladan. Gain her respect the same way you did ours. Invite her to House conferences, show her how you train, show her how you handle hostile environments, make her your shadow."

The Duke rises from the edge of the bed with a sigh and saunters over to his wife's vanity, glaring at himself in the mirror. He has a narrow face full of angles and planes, with a high-bridged aquiline nose that gave him the look of a hawk, and woodsmoke in his brown eyes. Despite his intimidating looks, his outer shell doesn't quite reflect what's within. A point that perhaps his daughter has been abusing in recent months.

"I miss the little girl she used to be. I have so much love for her that I can't bear to spare the thought of her not being in my life. I'm scared of losing her. I fear that exposing her to this would put her in harm's way."

"Of course, and she trusts you to protect her as every child does. But what would innocence teach her that you coudn't?"

The Duke's face remains expressionless apart from the very small twitch of his eyebrow furrowing inwards. After a long moment of deliberating, his gaze sweeps to yours through the mirror. You begin to worry that you've stepped out of line.

"Do you think it would work?" He asks quietly.

To be completely honest, you don't know. At the very least, it would do her some good to be humbled.

"It is only advice, my Duke, not an instruction. I would never tell you how to parent your child, I would never disrespect you in that way."

The gentle nod of his head is a relief, and you feel your breath pouring from your lungs.

The Duke paces back over to you, standing just before you that you could feel the traces of his breath sweep across your features.

"Perhaps you are right. When I think about it, I learned most, if not everything from my father when I was a teenager."

A small smile spreads across your lips. "As did I."

The Duke reciprocates the smile, returning his gratitude in the way his hand gently squeezes the top of your arm. "He is a man I aspire to be. Hopefully one day I can be as proud of my daughter as he is of you."

"Thank you, my Duke. I'm sure your daughter will make a great leader one day."

He chuckles softly, "here's hoping she can survive being grouded for longer than a week."

[librarylexicon]

20 Questions for Writers

EDIT: Now with question 17!

Tagged by @cuephrase (ty bb!!)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

32 (that are attached to my account).

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

283,405. I very nearly posted 100,000 of them last year, and only noticed when I looked at my stats in January. If I'd known, I would have posted something else to get it over that line!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Right now, just Batman, but in the past I've written for Harry Potter, Anne of Green Gables, Little Men, Tintin and a handful of other fandoms. I have a Road to Avonlea fic tentatively in the works, and might return to any of these fandoms if inspiration strikes.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

All the Corners That Are Left is an outlier in my stats because it has more than three times as many kudos as the runner-up. It's an exchange fic that was my first foray into posting Batfam fics, and I liked writing it so much that it actually sparked a loose series of Post-Crisis oneshots, currently called Corners.

Family Crisis is my beloved canon divergence AU of War Games. It's the first fic I started writing for Batman, and I'm so happy that people are reading it. It's very comics-oriented, but still easy to follow without having touched a comic (imo).

Harry Potter and the Time-Turner is the first multichapter fic I ever wrote and completed, back when I was in my early teens. I won't reread it, lest I die of cringe, but I'm bemusedly grateful that it still gets hits and kudos.

Home Assignment is a Dick whump fic I drafted quite a while ago, and finally had an opportunity to finish and publish when I signed up for a Dick Grayson event. I had fun playing around with unreliable narration in this one!

In Retrospect is a HP fic that was written for a challenge where I was given five prompts and a week to produce five one-shots. I chose to make mine interconnected missing scenes set during and after Deathly Hallows, and particularly like how Painfully Abnormal turned out.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! It's a habit that's carried over from my fanfiction.net days, and I receive a manageable amount of comments, so I try to respond to every one. (The only reason I might not is when someone leaves a string of comments that are all very brief. In that instance, I tend to reply to the final comment only.) I adore reading and replying to comments! 🫶

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

I've always been an angst lover. The Last Enemy, one of my oldest fics, ends with (canonical) apparent character death, and For the Sake of Our Son ends with both main characters (canonically) dying. How fun!

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

Other than a shipfic that's now anonymous, I don't know! I tend to go for uplifting or satisfying endings without necessarily aiming for happy ones (although I rarely have unhappy endings). Maybe You Know I Love You? I do also have a handful of Batman ficlets that I recently wrote for a zine, and there's definitely fluff among them.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I think I got some on fanfiction.net back in the day, but the most hate I've received that I can remember is people being salty about a couple of fics I began when I was a teenager and never finished. I'm sorry, but it's been almost a decade! Yes, you can and should resist the urge to tell me that you don't respect authors who abandon fics!

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

Nope!

10. Do you write crossovers?

While I've toyed with quite a few crossover ideas over the years, I've only published one, which is a Rise of the Guardians and Peter Pan one-shot called Lost Boy.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I can't recall any specific instances, but many of my fics have been on the internet for a long time, so they've definitely been scraped for knockoff sites, if nothing else.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, three times! Harry Potter and the Time-Turner has been translated into French, Shirley Not has been translated into German and At Home, They Call Me Tintin has been translated into Chinese. (Links to these translations are in my fanfic masterlist on Dreamwidth.)

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

No, but I'm open to the idea! I'd have to really know the other author and get over my control freak tendencies, though...

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

I don't ship much (to the point where I have plenty of NOTPs), but I do love TimSteph, and I have soft spots for DickBabs and BatCat (Bruce/Selina) as well. All-time favourite, though? That would have to be Anne and Gilbert from the Anne of Green Gables series.

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

Before the War(drobe). Narnia fandom, I really want to return to you someday, but I have a couple things to do first!

16. What are your writing strengths?

My most positive comments almost always mention characterisation. I also think I write dialogue pretty well. In my mind, well-written dialogue is essential to good characterisation.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Even though I write about characters who are superheroes, I rarely write about them BEING superheroes, because I struggle with action scenes. Also description, but I like to think I've grown better at it.

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

I don't like to use non-Latin characters in my fics for readability reasons, and I don't like to include dialogue in another language if I don't know the language. So, when my characters speak a language other than English, I either just use an English translation with a dialogue attribution (e.g. She said in Spanish) or just use the attribution without the dialogue, depending on whether or not the POV character understands the language.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter! I wrote for it before I knew what fanfic was. I also joined the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges forum on fanfiction.net back in the day, which led to my most prolific ficwriting period.

20. Favourite fic you've written?

My favourite fics tend to be my most recent ones, because they're the ones I've spent the most time on and am most proud of. I can never pick one of anything (as you've probably noticed), so my current favourites are:

Family Crisis – longtime labour of love and Bruce character study

All the Corners That Are Left – Dick character study feat. Jason

Flight Mode – Tim character study feat. Bruce

Phew, that was a lot of questions! I think a lot of people have already been tagged 😅

Scrolling through my mutuals and no-pressure tagging @silverwhittlingknife @geevesthevieve @batrachised @freyafrida and @silent-silver-slip and any other fic writers who see this! 🫶

[bicycle4two]

christmas oneshot starring  jason and his little mouse from built to love, but broken now

find more ficlets of this couple here

I saw Jason kissing...

Honestly, Jason didn’t mean to forget Christmas.

To be fair, it’s Christmas Eve so he didn’t actually forget Christmas itself, but still,  it’s cutting it close and, well,  it’s a holiday that’s kind of hard to miss with all the red and green décor. Frankly, he hasn’t had much to do with the holiday the past two years, never really had anyone to celebrate it with, to buy gifts for, so it was more out of habit that he paid no mind to the lights, the music, all the peppermint flavored food advertised on café and restaurant windows.

It’s in pretty poor practice that he doesn’t notice such obvious signs, he’s a detective, he’s supposed to see these things, observe, but he’s been busy. There were finals to study for, drug deals to bust, bad guys to rough up and throw in jail, sometimes even the hospital first. Jason’s got better things to do than stuff some stockings or prepare chocolate chip cookies and milk to leave out for Santa Claus.

The jolly old saint wouldn’t be able to get them anyway, what with Jason’s new security system set up.

So, really, it was only when Jason stopped a robbery by criminals dressed in red with sacks thrown over their shoulders that he finally got the hint. The red hats with white cotton balls glued to the ends of their point helped, too.

“Pretty sure Santa’s supposed to be leaving the gifts, not taking them.” He says as his only warning, just so he could see the look on their faces when they realize who’s caught them, before he shoots, careful to not kill anyone, but definitely aimed to scare, to immobilize.

It’s an easy fight. The Santa-wannabes go down easily, so easily that Jason’s a little disappointed.

But it’s Christmas Eve, so maybe it’s a sign that he should head back home, spend the holiday with someone he actually cares about.

It’s just that he doesn’t really have a gift to give, nothing to put under the small tree—now he realizes that it’s a Christmas tree—she had set up on the table next to their sofa and all the shops are closed early so that employees clock out and be with their families. Maybe he could make something, but no, that’s a bad idea. It all circles back to everything being closed and not having enough time.

He really should have been paying more attention. He’s pretty sure the grocery he was at the other day was blaring Jingle Bells, maybe even that song about the reindeer with the nose, while he looked for ingredients for spaghetti and meatballs.

wer r u?

come home soon?

The words, like always, tickle when they appear on his skin, like a gentle caress trying to get his attention. Jason stares at the words on his skin, the way her penmanship looks so soft and dainty against the harsh scars and thinks that he’ll just make it up to her when he gets home. He’ll cook dinner tonight, he’s sure he can whip up something Christmas-y and if he can’t, well, cookies are always an option. It’s the first thing Alfred taught him to make and the years of anger and hurt could not wash away those memories.

…

“There you are!” She greets once he’s inside the door.

There’s Christmas music playing softly in the background and Jason notes that their apartment is dimly lit, a sort of orange makes their living room seem warm, cozy, in theme. She’s set the mood. But he needs to get out of his boots first so he doesn’t track any dirt or grime onto their nice clean floors. It takes a second, it’s needlessly complicated but he needs the support so he can’t really complain.

“I’m back, mouse. Sorry I’m late,” he says, voice distracted as he works on the other boot. His gaze is lowered, focused on the clasps and the laces, but once he’s free from it, he straightens up, which, hurts, but at least he’s home and she’s always been good at alleviating his pain.

The first thing he sees are her white, thigh high socks. No, that’s not right. They’re not completely white, no, each leg has a red bow tied around her thigh, squeezing the flesh in such a way that Jason’s first thought is that he wants to bite it.

Which is shocking, he normally tries to push those kinds of thoughts away, but his eyes continue their journey anyway, taking in the shortness of her red dress, the way the white lining barely covers what Jason has yet to be privy to. There’s a thick black belt around her waist, cinching it, revealing curves that she doesn’t normally show off. Then there’s that white lining again teasing him, taunting him, daring him to keep his gaze on her chest, on the exposed skin.

And Jason, Jason is only human so he lingers for a second longer than he normally would.

He wonders what else he’ll find her wearing, wonders if she’s wearing a Santa hat, too. He thinks that red is definitely her color and Jason’s pretty sure he’ll never look at a gold belt buckle the same way again. So, he’s excited to take in what she looks like above her tantalizing costume, see what she’s done with her make up, her hair, but what he sees once he moves on from the slope of her shoulders, her neck, makes him to burst out into laughter.

“Mouse. Seriously?”

“What?” She says in the most innocent tone she can muster and he’s pretty sure she’s grinning behind the white beard she has on. “You don’t like?”

“I just didn’t expect—is that glued on?”

She strokes her beard in a thoughtful manner and Jason finds himself laughing all over again.

“I think it completes the look.”

“You’re looking very festive, yes. Have you been wearing that the whole night?”

“Nah. I threw this on just for you.” She approaches him now, hips swaying, and the image is very confusing with the beard. She’s slow to wrap her arms around him, always giving him a chance to stop her if he wanted to, but Jason’s used to her touch, craves it, so he welcomes her embrace. Even if the beard is a little itchy. “So tell me, have you been a good boy this year?”

“Oh, most definitely not.” He tugs on her beard, sees that its simply looped around her ears.

“Darn. Guess that means no present for you.” Her shoulders sag and she even manages to look a little disappointed.

“I’m sure you can make an exemption?” His hands seem to have a mind of their own, they’re enjoying the velvety texture of her dress, rubbing up and down, daring to even go lower.

“No can do. I’m a stickler for the rules.” But still she manages to step even closer, craning her neck to look at him and Jason has to tilt his chin down so he can keep her gaze. His hands take this as their chance to make a move and oh, would you look at that, she doesn’t seem to mind. “But, I am a sucker for tradition.”

It says a lot about their relationship, how in tune they are, that Jason can practically read her mind, can tell that she wants him to look up with just a pump of her eyebrows, a flutter of her lashes. And when Jason tears his eyes away from her to see what she has hung on the ceiling, he grins.

Mistletoe.

“So, what do you say?” Her voice brings his attention back to her and Jason, Jason has never been more in love with her. “Feeling the Christmas spirit?”

“Lose the beard, mouse.”

And she tears it off quickly if not a little violently, snapping the elastic off and tossing the beard over her shoulder. Jason feels the sting behind his own ears, but he finds that he doesn’t particularly care right now because there’s his girl, his pretty little mouse, all decked out in his color.

“Merry Christmas, Jason,” she whispers, eyes closing as their faces draw closer together.

Their kiss is sweet, she’s definitely had some hot chocolate while waiting for him, and Jason can’t help himself, he deepens the kiss in a way that makes her let out a surprised squeak before she melts into his embrace.

And Jason, Jason thinks he’s never going to forget Christmas now.

...

happy holidays to you all!

didn't think i'd be writing a christmas special(?) but i've been home the whole day and well, why not? i hope you enjoy this piece ☺

thanks so much for all the love and support you give these two, too!

[just-two-blokes]

Fear of flying - A Thomas Barrow x Richard Ellis Oneshot

I might upload this Fic on Ao3 later but for now, I am sitting at the airport, my flight is delayed and I am very much bored so I wrote this little ficlet.

Disclaimer: This fic is a story about the fear of flying. The symptoms I described in it are some of the common symptoms of this fear as well as my own - I am writing from personal experience.

I hope you like this little story and I wish everyone a wonderful Sunday.

When Thomas enters their small living room with the adjoining kitchen on this long-awaited morning, Richard instinctively realizes that something is wrong.

Anyone else would probably not have noticed it at first glance, but Thomas' otherwise slightly tanned cheeks are white as chalk and his eyes look almost ghostly in his face.

Thomas gives Richard a hurried look before sitting down unsteadily on his chair and reaching for his cup with his right hand, which immediately begins to rattle in his hand, causing the herbal tea to spill over the edge of the cup in ever larger drops.

Determined, Richard, who can no longer bear to watch Thomas, grabs Thomas' wrist and gently takes the cup from his ice-cold hands.

'Darling, is everything all right?'

Thomas just nods his head silently, obviously unable to look at Richard.

This is also noticed by the valet, who merely squeezes Thomas' hands a little and continues in a firm voice.

'Thomas, look at me.'

After some hesitation, Thomas lifts his head and looks directly into Richard's eyes.

Blue in gray.

'Thomas... what's wrong?'

At this moment, all the dams seem to break in Thomas and the tears, which had already been glistening suspiciously in his eyes, now flow silently down his pale cheeks.

'I'm scared.'

If Thomas' lips hadn't moved, Richard wouldn't have realized that Thomas had just said something. His voice was not more than a whisper.

'What did you say? You're scared?'

Richard tries his hardest to keep his voice soft, but Thomas takes his sentence completely the wrong way.

'I know, it's embarrassing and stupid. You can laugh now.'

But Richard gently grabs Thomas by the chin and lovingly wipes the salty tears from his cheeks.

'I'm not laughing.'

Thomas nods silently and Richard takes him gently by the arm and leads him to the small sofa in the living room.

'Can you tell me what you're afraid of specifically?'

Thomas takes a shaky breath and Richard hands him a handkerchief.

'I'm sorry.'

'There's nothing you need to apologize for.'

Thomas nods and Richard decides to get to the bottom of it himself.

'Are you worried about the flight? Or of arriving late at the airport? Or that something will happen when we're away?'

Thomas seems to find it extremely difficult to answer Richard, let alone look him in the eye. But finally he seems to pull himself together.

'All of it.'

Richard seems unsettled for a moment, but then regains his composure.

'I understand,' he hesitantly grabs Thomas' hand, 'is there anything I can do to make you less scared? We have time, our plane doesn't leave until this afternoon.'

Thomas looks at Richard almost desperately.

'I don't know.'

Richard nods gently.

'What if we travel to the airport extra early and have a look around the place? We could eat there and I explain you all the little steps we need to take until we are sitting in the plane.

I've only flown once, but I know my way around a bit. I can show you around. And when we arrive, we'll take our time and look at everything too. How does that sound?'

Thomas hesitates for a few seconds, but then nods decisively.

'Can we see if I've got everything I need for the flight?'

Richard gives him a relieved look: 'Of course, darling. And then we'll have a proper breakfast.'

The corners of Thomas' mouth twist into a shaky smile as he takes Richard's hand and they walk to their bedroom to check all their luggage again.

And although his heart still seems to be jumping up to his throat, his mind feels a little clearer and calmer.

It will work out. Richard is with him.

[jokeringcutio]

Imagine: Reader & Arthur Shaw Joining the Search Party

Imagine: Albert Shaw X (Teacher) Reader Warnings: 18+ content, Non-con, Kidnapping. Fandom: Black Phone.

Written for @myers-meadow. Note: I started a ficlet/oneshot. But I wasn't happy with the way it was turning out. So I tried an imagine instead and wanted to post that one before I give the other idea a go again. Hopefully, you'll still like it <3

Imagine: Being on the Search Party with Albert Shaw

When your father was offered a job, the whole family relocated to Denver. You were looking for an internship and found one offered at Denver’s local school. Naturally, you took it.

A few months after moving to your new house and the new job, the first kids started to disappear. And you started to worry about your own class. They were slightly younger than the kids taken by the now infamous Grabber, but with a man like this on the loose, you never knew.

And so you became more and more protective of your kids.

You wouldn’t let any leave the school on their own and encouraged them to travel in groups. Sometimes, you even brought some of the kids to their houses if they had no one to travel with.

You were a good teacher. Fresh on the job, but passionate and concerned. You thought of everything.

When another boy went missing, the local residents decided to assemble search parties.  Of course, you were joining them.

Everyone gathered in the local gym. You helped your parents prepare lunch bags for those who joined the search.

It was your mother who pushed you towards a man named Albert Shaw. He stood behind one of the tables and was handing out the bags. “You can help him,” she said. “Albert Shaw is a very nice man, and he could use a pair of extra hands.”

You were instantly smitten. Just the sight of the man brought butterflies to your belly and heat to your core. He was older, by far. His dark hair already graying at the temples, slicked back not by gel but because he had been wearing a baseball cap. You could see the item discarded at the side of the table.

After you handed him the bags, you watched his strong arms as he evenly distributed them on the table in front of him. The way those muscles twitched. You were salivating by the time he was done. It was sinful that a man like him, wearing an ordinary shirt with short sleeves, could look this attractive.

And you scolded yourself internally for staring a bit too long at his arms, and for blushing right after.

He caught your stare. You could tell by the way he smiled – there was a hint of mischievousness to it. And then he asked you if there was anything else you needed of him.

Embarrassed, you stuttered that you wanted to help. And he let you join him at the table, handing out bags together. It was comfortable around him, even though you felt a little painful pang in your chest when you watched the rings on his hands. Was he married? You shouldn't be getting any fancy thoughts avout him. You were pretty sure he wasn't for you.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” Albert murmured. You were certain it was just supposed to be a normal, polite, and kind conversation. Yet you couldn’t help but shake the thought that the way he said it might mean something more. That he was interested in you? Surely not.

You told him about the move, that you didn’t know that many people yet. That you still lived with your parents but worked as a teacher.

He admitted to have met your dad a few weeks ago. That he heard him talk about his clever daughter.

And then he started to ask one question after another about you and your life.

The whole interaction was nice, but it left you with a bitter aftertaste. Albert took every opportunity to give you compliments that made your heart swell and made you think he might be flirting with you. But then he would remark about your age, to you looking younger than you were, and you thought, surely not.

You’d felt great at the time because of all of his attention. But after, it had felt like there had been something off.

Just like your parents, you joined in the search. You had signed up the moment you could and joined a little group that would head into the woods surrounding Denver.

When the group was about to leave, that was when Albert came rushing over, requesting to come along. Your party leader allowed it, smiling and happily thanking Albert for his help.

“You’re always such a big support to our community,” he had said, gesturing for Albert to come along. “A pillar to Mr. Yamada as well.”

Apparently, Albert knew the missing kid’s father. He told you Yamada was part of a group of friends of his that he would hang out with. They would go bowling and hold barbecues. Have a beer.

You noticed how Albert stuck close to your side. And soon the two of you were talking about all sorts of things. Until you noticed the party had somehow split and you had lost sight of the others.

You had ended up with Albert alone.

He led you deeper into the woods, until the trees grew tall and the area became dark. Shadows covered the two of you.

His compliments became more obscene, but there was nowhere to go to. You didn't know your way around here and you feared you might be lost.

He said he thought he saw something, and you were brave enough to walk closer to the spot to have a look. Nothing.

But when you turned around, your heart nearly stopped.

Albert had donned a mask. A demonic one.

You asked him if he was okay? If this was his idea of a joke? But Albert was darn serious.

He wrestled you to the forest floor – honestly, there was no real competition. If his height hadn’t given him enough leverage over you, then the fact that he was much stronger than you would have done the trick. Any attraction you might have felt for him was suddenly gone and replaced with a cold dread when you felt his hands tightly upon your arms, his fingers were digging into your skin, leaving bruises.

He ripped open your blouse and shoved aside your bra. Twigs and leaves got stuck in your hair and between your fingers, but you couldn’t push him off.

Despite your struggle, he overpowered you with ease and he pushed your panties aside.

The thick fat tip of his cock was weeping when it was pressed between your folds, pre-cum smeared at your entrance.

You tried to push him off of you, hands against his arms and his chest, but he merely grunted. And even if you did not see his face, you could see the pleasure in his eyes. He was enjoying this, the bastard.

He thrust deep inside of you. Just one firm thrust. It made you gasp and cease your struggle. Your voice was hoarse from calling for help; calls he quieted with his hand while he started to thrust into you, up and up, deeper and deeper, until your back slid against the forest floor.

He made you feel dirty. His belly pressed against yours, his knees trapping you by the waist, his cock thrust hard into you. You could not help the little noises you made, from pleasure, from pain, a mixture of them both.

He chased his release without giving a damn about yours, and when he came, it was with a long grunt. Your eyes grew wide, knowing he was about to let you go. Right?

“Such a shame,” you heard the moaned whisper in your ear, “such a pretty little teacher. Ah well, the kids will have to do without you.”

He made you scream, the can of helium close to your lips. Then you lost consciousness.

~ * ~

There you were, the happy, pretty new teacher. Locked up in a basement.

It didn’t take you long to figure out the man who kept you here was Denver’s Grabber.

A man who took pleasure in watching you as you taught the innocent victims he took home with him. Knowing they’d be dead sooner rather than later. A waste of your talent – though he thought that it would be a waste if you never used your teaching skills on any kid ever again.

Right after he took you away, he was absent for nearly a day.

“Guess who we’ve been looking for?” he crooned, the missing poster with your photo on it was teasingly thrown in front of you.

“Found you. And you know what they say, finders keepers.”

Your new life in Denver didn't pan out the way you had planned. You're Albert's play thing now.

[sneakyboymerlin]

Hello! Would you happen to have any non-Merthur Merlin fanfic recs? Preferably with Gwen in them?

So sick of most fics just inserting Merthur in even when it’s not tagged that way 🤦🏽‍♀️

I’m pulling straight from my bookmarks for this one (filtered to include Gwen 💜❤️🧡)

Before Excalibur - Madlady2

Gwen comes home to her father, Tom the Blacksmith, working late. He is making Excalibur. This is just a scene between a proud father and an empathetic daughter.

Short little ficlet (330 words) showing one very significant day in the life of Gwen and Tom.

The Once & Future Besties - whitecrossgirl

Arthur and Merlin may be two sides of the same coin however there was one relationship that Merlin had in Camelot that was more important than that. His friendship with Gwen.

5 chapter, 5k word friendship/adventure fic. What more could anyone ask for?

Company - ArienElensar

“There, now you have some company whilst we’re gone,” Elyan said.

Elyan gets Gwen the greatest gift of all. (No, it’s not the friends we made along the way.) Another oneshot, only 565 words, but super sweet.

My All The World - Signy1

Arthur had forgiven the magic. He'd forgiven the lies. He'd forgiven the mistakes. He'd forgiven the unintended consequences of actions taken with the best of intentions and the worst of outcomes. But this... this was beyond forgiveness.

A longer one, at 4 chapters and nearly 10k words. Very grim and dramatic, with a bittersweet conclusion. I remember Gwen being fairly prominent in this, stuck in a difficult position as Merlin’s friend and Arthur’s wife while the two are at odds. TWs in fic tags.

The Ballad of Arthur and Gwaine - rbrgl

A quest for some mysterious object rendered mysterious by its sheer mysteriousness, for example, was enough to justify any lethally foolish adventure.

This one’s just hit 10 years old (and maybe it’s just me, but you can tell, lol). Classic Arthur vs. Gwaine story, told primarily from Gwen’s POV. About 11,700 words.

some have called thee mighty and dreadful - stanzas

En route to the kingdom of Nemeth, Camelot's party is attacked. Gwen and Merlin are separated from the rest of their traveling party. Merlin is gravely wounded, leaving them with the last dredges of hope that they will catch up with Arthur and the others at Nemeth's border.

Some 5.5k words of Gwen getting to show off and be the hero. @stanzas never lets us down.

Aaaaaand if I may be so bold…

I’ve written a couple fics myself that might meet your standards. They’re predominantly merwaine-focused since it is my agenda, but when you wanna write Gwen, you wanna write Gwen. So I wrote Gwen. I’ll rec you Empty Words and A Change For The Better (both comedies) and The Other Side (NOT a comedy—heed the trigger warnings before reading).

Hope you enjoy :D