#survival of the fittest fanfic

[jupitersrising]

Darius' first lines in chapter three of Theory of Evolution sums up the entirety of the fic pretty well lol.

They're all so stupid, I love them dearly.

[grace-williams-xo]

I don’t read or write reader/self insert fics they’re just not my vibe (I think I have trauma from the shit show that was 2013 one direction self inserts, I digress)

BUT I recognise that a significant majority are written in second pov and most writers (myself included) will attest that second pov is the hardest to write so like,,,,, you reader/self insert authors are fucking phenomenal. Love it. Keep slaying.

[legitimatesatanspawn]

Sometimes when you write, you put to pen exactly what you set out to.

Sometimes you open a wordfile with intent to flesh out an older wip and instead you find yourself writing a random character you don’t even like surviving a Zombie Epidemic by hiding up in a radio tower and using it to warn people what areas to avoid and if there’s any safe spots found.

[itsabouttimex2]

any lmk ideas you wish were touched on more often in fanfic??

Underused LMK Premises

Oh so many dude you don’t even understand-

1. Courtnapping as a legitimately bad thing. Not “ooh it’s romantic for demons” or “it’s just part of their culture” or “it’s proof of how much they love you” but like… a portrayal of courtnapping that actually demonstrates how viscerally dehumanizing it is to be stolen away by someone you might not even know and treated like a prize who can be won with the right application of charm or power.

(Like I’ve used it I think only once before and pretty much stopped at the “this is what demons do in general thing, but the potential for varied application is just… so high.)

Especially for mortals- imagine being bruised and battered from a long period spent unconsciously slung over someone’s shoulder or under their arm, strewn over a lounge chair or tied up in front of the kitchen table, seething. Eyes focused and hateful, knowing that this would happen eventually if they let down their guard or let a demon too close. It doesn’t matter how the monster peacocks about with that tome or this battleaxe, it’s not attractive, it’s not sexy,- and nothing can steal the feeling of violation that settles in over having been stolen from home in your sleep so you could get an extended IRL version of “I showed you my dick please go out with me” from a thirteen foot demon who is more interested in wooing you than actually wanting you.

Or just… old demons who mumble and huff about “losing their traditions” or “young demons going soft” as they look at woven tapestries in their homes, proud depictions of past conquests standing frozen in time, unaware that their great-great-grandson would lose his newest baby to a hysteric mortal’s iron-toed boot, wild with unforeseen hormones brought on by demonic birth, unaware that his youngest granddaughter would face a life of misery as she grew up, constantly stolen back and forth by two demons as part of a glorified pissing contest, both more interested in one-upping each other than the sapient being they steal from her room each night.

Young demons secretly taught by the last crotchety stalwarts of an old generation that “What you want is yours to take, if you can take it,” before their parents can snatch them away from great-great-great-grandfather and hurry off, praying their little one is too young to understand what was said. Growing demons brought up with those horrid words rattling their horned skulls, heeding and obeying them, then wondering why their dearest friends snap and crack as they’re “spirited away”. Grown demons who come up lonely and tired, seeing their diminishing race in a world flourishing with soft little mortals and wondering spitefully “Why did we ever stop conquering”, only learning the answer at the blunt end of a glowing golden staff when their time is near, the finishing blow timed to the cheers of their captives.

(If I ever write a satire fic, it will 100% be about a Y/N who gets isekai-ed into LMK, but instead of any of the cool or attractive protagonists, they get courtnapped by a crusty-handed, balding and portly demon who doesn’t practice hygiene or housecare. Just to put into perspective how actually awful the whole “I’m being kidnapped as a spouse” thing would probably really be if it wasn’t your attractive, young, in-shape, washes regularly blorbo doing the snatching.)

2. With this, demons just… not understanding mortals. Not for lack of trying, and not for lack of wanting, but through simple psychological incompatibility.

Demons struggling with empathy toward mortals because their minds are shaped by instincts that value strength, endurance, and survival of the fittest. Emotions that seem obvious to humans, like fear, discomfort, or sorrow simply not registering for demons in the same way. They see these reactions, but interpret them through their own lens, often believing that mortals are playing games or faking them or maybe outright performing.

Communal demons in broad daylight snatching up children for hours or days, only to return them with scars and bloodshot eyes, and wondering why they receive no gratitude for, in their opinion “taking up parental duties” without so much as being asked. After all, isn’t a little bit of “toughening up” good for children?

Demons who don’t understand “allergies”, especially when they range from “mild cough” to “near-instant death” and maybe misunderstand how epi-pens work- “Is stabbing the flesh a way to bleed the illness”, asks an curious demon with ancient eyes, worn hands, ragged skin, “and will any weapon do?”

Demons who become artists that need calligraphy tools so large they get mistaken for weapons. Demons who don’t understand tipping culture and assume they’re being fleeced. Demons who need custom chairs and custom clothes and custom bedding. Demons who pick fights on behalf of their friends and coworkers, and then to combat this, demons who get hired on as protection against “honor battles”.

Demons being demons, not just immortal humans.

3. Characters with variable ages that widely differ- like, I’ve gone on here and there about my view on ambiguous ages for characters and why I love that trope so much and how it makes a series infinitely more attractive to larger crowds and audiences than a concrete “14” or “23” or “46”, you know? And the fact that MK and Mei and Red Son could be sooo many different ages all in different configurations is super interesting to me!

Like, imagine- Adult!Red Son with Teen!Mei and Teen!MK, having an absolute full-throttle meltdown when he realizes that the two upstart semi-mortals who keep beating his demonic ass are teenagers. Red Son being both mortified at his continuous defeats and furious at these children’s parents for allowing them to fight in such high stakes.

And then with that slowly growing sense of pity and anger he just scoffs and shakes his head the one time they maybe aren’t in such high spirits (drenched from rain and wind and exhausted from the vigor of battle) and whisks them off to his family’s lair, throwing a demon-sized towel for them to share as he whips up something spicy for the kids.

Children.

They’re children.

He goes home and thinks on that, and then decides that maybe he just doesn’t want to fight them anymore.

Red Son then being reverse adopted by Pigsy + Mr. and Mrs. Dragon because, hey, if he’s playing big brother, might as well let him. Then Red gets to learn what (mostly) healthy family dynamics are through direct interaction and then hold his parents to those standards and basically everyone heals together.

Or hey, Red Son being a teenager while MK and Mei are adults! The two heroes doting on this ever-furious demon with treats and drinks to “cheer him up” after his frequent losses and kinda… accidentally teaching him what unconditional kindness is by becoming surrogate older siblings to the kid.

Red Son freaking out because his parents are going to be mad about this loss or that failure, and

(Red Son getting a phone call in the middle of a fight because PIF is mad he didn’t take out the trash lmao)

4. Y/N being protective of Sun Wukong.

Man, I don’t know if it’s just me but I don’t touch most romantic Shadowpeach x Y/N fanfics at all because I know I’m in for more of the same “Macaque legitimately being an awful person to someone he’s sharing a mate with/to one of his two mates and Y/N thinks it’s funny/doesn’t care” and just like… dude.

Like I know I’ve talked about how much I hate Fanon!Macaque, the simpering sadsack who only exists to get babied and patted on the ass, all his actions whitewashed and cooed over, so like, obviously I wasn’t gonna be a fan of this.

Maybe I’m just not the target audience here but like holy shit… why? It’s never portrayed as unhealthy or anything more than a silly goofy thing that Macaque is constantly tormenting someone he either is supposed to love or share a lover with, and the reader in regard to that mistreatment is little more a drooling dumbfuck without enough braincells to breath through their nose.

I don’t get it. A Y/N who says “Teehee my mate is being abused ‘oh noes’ but Maccy needs cuddles so I’ll disregard one half of my relationship~” is not a Y/N I care about, and I don’t see what’s so compelling about neglect and mistreatment portrayed as the order of the day. I don’t see the merit in “I’m Y/N, and I’m stupid and blind to abuse!”

Cause I think it’s so much more interesting if it’s like…

“Do that again and you’re out.”

And Macaque whips around in shock, looking up from the shadow portal he just shoved Wukong into. “Excuse me-“

“Do that again,” you repeat, voice low and tense- Wukong would be fine, you were more angry than worried-, “and you’re out. Gone. Out of my house and out of my life.”

“I wasn’t-“

“I don’t give a fuck, Macaque! You will not MISTREAT my mate in my own house!”

“I- it’s not- I don’t-“

“I DON’T FUCKING CARE! HE’S NOT A FUCKING PUNCHING BAG, SO I’M NOT LETTING YOU TREAT HIM LIKE ONE!”

You know, a scenario where Y/N isn’t a passive enabler of abuse and bullying, and they actually have a voice of their own outside of “Teehee Mac you’re sooooo mean to my lover but I’m totally okay with that for some reason!~” but also gives Macaque explicit instruction on what he needs to do in order to better the relationship (ex: not abuse their other mate), in which they aren’t stupid or unforgiving and all three can grow together, instead of the usual: “Macaque isn’t ever a bad person. But when he is it’s not a big deal. But when it is his victims “deserve” it.”

5. Transhuman identities and abilities. I mean, just… there’s shapeshifting and magical artifacts and all manner of mystic trinket in the world. Does being gay or trans really matter when anyone can learn the 72 Transformations and become what they wish? Is it any bigger a deal than your child deciding they’re going to live life as a dog, or a demon? Are there potions to make these transformations permanent? Can a person become a demon, instead of transforming into one?

Does being immortal fuck with your taxes? Does knowing magic fuck with your insurance? Does your family look at you differently after you’ve tasted that ambrosial nectar, consumed that slice of eternity? Do they fear or long for a taste? Does your grandmother refuse to come to your wedding, ashamed that you would “break yourself from the cycle”? Does your mother cry into her hands that you wed a demon? Do you run to an old monastery to elope, wed by an old monk with ancient eyes because no other soul will officiate you and that demon? Will you be welcome in the celestial realm if you wed a heavenly soldier? If you take the hand of a god? What will you have you learn? How long until you feel at “home”?

Just… humans getting into mystical trouble outside of battles.

(If anyone else has some stuff they’d wish was expanded on more often, feel free to add on in the comments or reblogs!)

[witches-dream]

Warning: Ramble incoming

Here's what interests me in a potential Burning Spice redemption story, specifically the scenario in which Golden Cheese takes his Soul Jam away

First off, she can't... "Claim" it fully, she can't use its power, because she's not about Destruction, which is what his Soul Jam represents. Similarly to how Spice couldn't use her Soul Jam because he doesn't represent Abundance, and similarly to how Smoked Cheese could do fuck all with it other than ruining absolutely everything. There was a reason that the initial Soul Jams got split, and now that they are separated into their respective halves, the originals no longer exist and CAN'T exist.

So that's why if Goldie were to take Spice's Soul Jam, she'd have to store it somewhere. And I'm assuming that being far away from it weakens the connection, but then again Hollyberry was taking strolls around Beast-Yeast while her own Jam was sitting in her kingdom, so the connection is still there even when 1) the Soul Jam owners are far away and 2) they have weak spiritual connection to it (as in, each of the ancients had to reconnect with their respective lights to get their full power back).

What I'm getting at is that even if Golden Cheese takes Spice's Soul Jam and fucks off with it to the other side of Earthbread, it's not guaranteed that Spice will lose his connection with it and therefore immortality. So here's a logical continuation to this scenario.

He needs to stop representing Destruction.

If he no longer believes in his power and his worldviews, if he grows weak and gives up on everything, then his connection to his Soul Jam will weaken, he will lose his powers and then his immortality.

Another option is to destroy his Soul Jam, but 1) I'm not sure that's possible and 2) if Goldie wanted a trophy would she do this?? And if she wanted to spare Spice's life, destroying his Jam would be akin to indirectly killing him cuz he would lose immortality.

But anyway. How would you even go about making the Great Destroyer not represent Destruction anymore? With even a fraction of his power left, he'd still go after Goldie. He'd force someone to use spice magic to teleport him to Goldie's kingdom. If the Soul Jam is stored there, he'd gain his powers back just from being near it. I suppose we can introduce some sorta technology, like a barrier that blocks magic, which would prevent Spice from accessing his Soul Jam's power. But, if he's still connected to it, does that take away his immortality or what?

As long as he 1) believes in the "survival of the fittest" principle; 2) believes history repeats itself with no meaningful progression; 3) has no desire to give it a chance; 4) wants to fight Goldie and take her Jam; 5) believes that only destruction will distract him from boredom and probably 6) lots of other things, he still represents Destruction and therefore his Jam is still his. How to go about tormenting him enough to break that connection is beyond me. Heck, even if he kneels before Goldie and begs her to kill him, you can argue that's still his belief that destruction is the only way.

But i digress. I don't think that you need to think that deep for a fanfic. Cuz a fanfic is always a "what if" scenario based on what you want to see, not what would actually happen, and "what would actually happen" is subjective anyways, cuz this is a fictional story and those are inherently subjective.

I guess the conclusion of this ramble is that there's not a way, at least an easy one, where you could pull such a scenario off in a canon-compliant way. Cuz if you did, all of that ⬆️ would get in the way of the actual story you'd wanna tell. But mortal Burning Spice is too cool of an idea to not allow some creative liberties even if they're canon breaking but c'mon. Who cares about "canon" when you can have fanfic.

That's all from me, good night

[shinjisdone]

Hi there! first time resquest here. So I won't waste my shit! >:D

If it's not too much trouble, I could resquest:

Type: Headcanon (Romantic)

Reader: Female

Proctetive Promt:

1.- " i don't know how long i'll be able to protect you for, but i guarantee you, i'll only stop with my final breath. "

2.-" who did this to you? where are they? "

Character: (TWST) Silver and Sebek

I hope that my request is not too long, in case it has complications you can discard it if you wish. But if not, take your time and no pressure 🌠🌌✍️ By the way, I love your TWST fanfics! They have a unique format and ideas! :D

Well, good day, bye 👋💐

Very interesting and fitting for both of them! It actually works to include both in the same scene as well! Thx for the request! And for the compliments omg

hope it was romantic enough for you???

Copied your request because the format is perfect

Twisted Wonderland

Type: Headcanon (Romantic)

Reader: Female

Proctetive Promt:

1.- " i don't know how long i'll be able to protect you for, but i guarantee you, i'll only stop with my final breath. "

2.-" who did this to you? where are they? "

Character: (TWST) Silver and Sebek

TW: Hardcore bullying mentioned only (due to reader being magicless and a girl), injury and blood caused by others to you, reader belittles herself, crying, tattletale Sebek, knight Silver

Your damn gut feeling was right.

There was something exciting about going on this trip - even as Vargas proclaimed it as a 'survival of the fittest' test to see how witted his students are 24/7.

The forest can be quite beautiful on Twisted Wonderland - the lakes, the meadows, the caves.

You'd be here with friends and classmates even if that familiar trio of bullies were also coming and kept giving you a queasy feeling.

You'd brush it off for once and enjoy yourself.

You were so stupid to do so.

The three students are ruthless - kept on jabbing and pushing your buttons as a 'magicless' student, a 'failure'. Like a glitch in the system; because what was a magicless student doing here in NRC?

And it didn't help you were the only girl here in this all-boys-academy.

Pulling on your hair, making stupid remarks, pervertedly flicking up your skirt.

You aren't meant to be here.

There you are, crying in a ball as blood pours out from somewhere on your foot. It's hard to see where exactly in this dark cave.

You tried to be optimistic - you've been through worse but no matter where you twisted and turned you couldn't find the exit. And soon you gave in to this pain in your chest, the tightness in your throat and the pain in your foot as you sobbed alone in the dark.

If only you had magic and could easily find a way to get out of here. This could only happen to you.

Your sob halted in your throat as you heard a rumbling. Small rocks would fall before dim light entered your vision. Wiping your tears you hear fast footsteps until familiar silver entered your blurry vision.

"There you are! What happened?!" You swallowed as he approached. Silver's lavender eyes were wide and his entire demeanor more tense than usual - the complete opposite when he openly yawned next to you in the camp, feeling unusually safe in the forest.

He was quickly close beside you, his eyes scanning you up and down. You just tried to quickly wipe your tears as he asked question upon question.

The numerous attempts to joke at this situation fell flat - you cannot brush off the blood pooling out of your skin. In fact, Silver cursed and quickly tended to your foot. Asking you how this could have happened and why you are alone here anyways as he also instructs you to lift your leg.

"Oh," You choke out but try to sell it out as laughter, "Funny that you ask. I wasn't looking where I was going and..." You keep on faking giggles as your story became more and more unstable and Silver's piercing glare made your made-up alibi crumble.

"(Name). I am serious. What happened, why are you injured and all alone here? You can tell me." Though his lips did not even rose upwards, his eyes softened and your guard fell. The laughter came out in chokes as you let the tears fall. "Silver-senpai...I think I should just go home."

He startles as he watches you cry. He may not be the most observing, even as he tries to stay awake all the time, but he believes he has never seen you so dejected before. He listens with wide eyes as you belittle yourself, believe that you shouldn't be here and that is best if you go back to NRC early.

"I mean look at me...I couldn't do anything to get out of here...if it weren't for you, I'd cry till dawn and no one would notice a thing. The guys were right...you even helping me isn't something I deserve...!"

You hide your tear-stained face, mumbling incoherrently but Silver was able to catch one thing. He leans closer.

"Someone did this to you, right? Someone threw you in here and you got hurt..."

He cursed inwardly. He just recently noticed you were missing and made a mad-dash towards where you were last seen...but even before that he didn't even catch you being tormented in the group. Silver just easily let himself doze off, feeling safe in the forest.

But you didn't. And he didn't notice the fact that you needed help and he could've done something to protect you.

"I don't know how long I can still take this...I'm not made for this trip, not for NRC. I'll just go home." You managed to silence your whimpers and wiped your tears. Your claim made something inside Silver stir.

You startled as Silver suddenly but elegantly knelt in front of you, bowed his head and pressed his hand on his chest. "Forgive this pathetic knight," He let out sternly with closed eyes, "I don't know how long I'll be able to protect you for, but I guarantee you, I'll only stop with my final breath."

Letting out puzzled noises at his sudden and stiff behavior as he adjusted your foot one last time before bringing one arm each under your back and knees. "S-Silv - Wha...???" You yelp as he hoists you up and carries you like a princess.

He walks out from where he came from. "I've trained for this my whole life but I still failed. I'll protect you until this trip is over, I promise you, (Name). You deserve it, milady."

Okay, now he is going too far with his knightly-duty talk.

Just as you were approaching the outside light, another silhouette came rushing from the side and almost colliding with the wall next to them. With a swift swing, it seemed to be Sebek, panting, glaring and dirty all over.

"SILVEEEERRRR!" He almost stumbled forwars but stopped himself right before bumping ino the two of you. "THE HUMAN IS NOT IN THE-!!!"

He gasped OUTLOUD when he saw you. Finally!

"(NAME)! THERE YOU ARE-"

Again, he stops himself. The big grin on his face disappeared as his face slowly shifted into one of calm rage.

"Who did this to you? And where are they?"

Sebek was eerily calm as he helped you wipe a few tears away. While you tried to explain yourself, his eyes scanned your torn clothes, the filth all over you and your bandaged foot.

"...It's...it's not much, I was careless and..."

"Stop spouting nonsense. I saw those humans, the trio of evil. Just as I was about to go to Vargas, you vanished..."

"YOU SHOULD'VE SAID SOMETHING, HUMAN GIRL! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO HELP WHEN YOU CANNOT EVEN TELL ME THE EASIEST AND SMALLEST THING?!"

"Sebek. That's not what she needs to hear right now."

OH YEAH?! WHY ARE YOU HOLDING HER UP LIKE A PRINCESS ANYWAY, WE MUST HURRY BACK AND PERFORM J U S T I C E."

You try to stop them but Sebek is adamant on tattleing telling everything to Vargas - and then speaking to the bullies himself.

How dare they do that to you?! Magicless being just trying to do her best! You're bleeding and they are the cause for it.

Silver on the other hand is focused on bringing you to a safe place and guarding you like the knight he promised to be for you - without daring to fall asleep once.

Silver kept on tending to your wound and accompanying you wherever you went, carrying when he deemed it necessary which was all the time.

He'd ask his animal friends to just...prickle him awake whenever he is close to dozing off. Not on duty!

He cannot let go of the 'milady' talk. It was like your words were a spell and the moment they left your lips, he has been in knight mode ever since. It's like a sixth sense. Other students look at you weird but he doesn't care.

Sebek is MARCHING over to Vargas, pointing to the bullies and the contemptuous things they've done. He will gladly take them on via court system style, justice will prevail!

After that he will sure yell their ears off on how disgusting they are and alllll the other thoughts and opinions he has of them. Will surely bring in you into the conversation a lot and how you felt, kind of indirectly letting everyone know of his feelings for you.

"THIS HUMAN GIRL MAY BE MAGICLESS, CARELESS, AND HANGS WAY TOO MUCH OUT WITH WAKA-SAMA BUT SHE TRIES HER BEST AND IS MUCH MORE WONDERFUL THAN ANY OF YOU; THAN ANYONE WHO IS ATTENDING THIS TRIP! - E-EXCEPT W-WAKA-SAMA, OF COURSE...!"

Nice save, Sebek.

Will hover over you like a protective mother hen. Makes sure you rest well, eat and drink enough. Will often fight with Silver during the trip on what is considered 'good enough' for you.

Sebek will start screaming and Silver tries to calm him down, his yelling is stressing you and you've been through enough.

The rest of the trip is just having these two protectively glued to you.

EDIT: I JUST HAD AN IDEA AT WORK

When you explain yourself why you are belittling yourself, Silver will softly but sternly tell you that it's not true. Will give objective truths and past actions of yours to prove that you are worthy of being here. And...that you are liked very much.

When you say these things while he carries you, he will press your head to his chest as he proves you wrong. His voice is soft and his breath fawns on the crown of your head.

When you say these things while just sitting there and him listening he might take your hand, 'milady' and absent-mindedly is about to kiss it - before Sebek slaps it away and reminds him that he may be awake but is sure daydreaming to go that far!

Slightly jealous but also just doesn't want Silver to go beyond boundaries.

Sebek on the other hand has a hard time not yelling at you while telling you you're wrong. His face gets sweaty and progressively more red as he tries to keep his feelings subtle and not tell you too much of what he thinks of you. It's almost impossible though.

Unlike Silver, Sebek proves you wrong by telling you how he sees you. What are you talking about?! For a magicless girl you are hardworking! Studious👏! Helpful👏! WONDERUL👏! NICE TO YOUR PEERS👏! VERY PRETTY- augh, he said too much.

Inhales very sharply when telling you - as if it were a government secret.

[balrogballs]

Coming from Cast in Stone, I would love to read the part you said you cut out, about Maedhros musing about history. These insights are the best part of the fic imo, so if you're happy to share on Tumblr like you said, I'd love to read

Of course! Just a note to literally anyone else seeing this, this references my Silm fanfic Cast in Stone which has MaeMags in TA 2900s realising that Elrond has built a massive, rather fuck ugly, statue glorifying their redemption, but have fully omitted all their (less redeemable) deeds from the histories he wrote as loremaster. Basically I mentioned in the chapter that I cut some sections out because it made it too 'academic' but had said people could ask to read them here, hence...

_________

Maedhros didn't think that 'chopping wood in the Shire' was necessarily the task most suited to a re-embodied prince with one hand, but he had to admit that the dull thunk-thunk cutting across the Tooks' barking sheepdog brought to him a sense of stability that he had missed for - well - most of his life. Like the thunk-bark-thunk-bark was a heartbeat, like it was saying he was integral, important, and constant. 

He thought again about what the boy, Legolas, had asked: what would a history written by the Fëanorians look like? What silenced stories would be spoken, what unknown truths would be brought to light, and what explanations would he be allowed? And the implied, though not directly asked, what branches would be chopped off and what stories would he silence?

Maedhros was impressed that the boy even implied it, that he had looked Maedhros in the face and insinuated that if Elrond would bury histories he could not bear to face, then what would he, Maedhros, have buried? As if silencing and burial came hand in hand with the writing of history, like it was a knack that the Eldar had, for brushing over and cleaning up their worst memories - a sort of survival weapon, like a waterskein in the depths of Rhun. 

What would he write about his father? What would he write about the boys? 

(Not his boys, but the blonde boys in the woods - the ones he remembered only some weeks ago).

The two volumes of Histories of the First Age written by Elrond did not make a single reference to those boys, and Maedhros had spent two weeks furious about the arms-length whitewashing. But as he stood here in the Shire, detached from who he was and will be, with sweat soaking into his tunic from his inexpert wielding of a woodcutter's axe, the question turns on its head. 

If Maedhros had written the Histories of the First Age, would he have written of it? He, who could barely think of their names without shaking? 

History was, at the end of the day, a kind of junglecraft — survival of the fittest. Version after version of the past contending for survival; new hybrids of truth and lies taking root as ancient violence faded, buried in obscurity. Only the strongest, most palatable narratives were allowed to live. The quiet, the defeated, the nameless left behind only fragments —  scattered pages, forgotten heroes, traces of lives lived under boots. History remembered only those who wrote it; the relationship between history and historian both a bond of power and a shared captivity.

Could he blame Elrond then, for not putting such violence on the page? Was Elrond, when asked to write the Histories of the First Age, not then being shackled to the book and told to pen down his greatest traumas, the unbearable truths of what his fathers — who loved him, whom he loved, loved, loved — were and had done? 

What would Maedhros have written of Fëanor? What would he have written of Aqualonde, or the moment stone touched flesh? Here, now, even the memory of it made him shake, brought tears to his eyes. But at the time, he had felt nothing whatsoever. 

[queen-tashie]

Happy Storyteller Saturday! I'd love to hear about your earliest writing attempts! How old you were when you started writing, what you wrote about, the first story you finished, etc... feel free to ramble on :)

Happy Storyteller Saturday!

My absolute earliest writing was way back somewhere between grade 2 and 4 (ages 7-9ish). I tried writing my own episode of Pokemon as a picture book. (I thiiiink my parents still have it somewhere, I kind of want to take a look at it again).

I didn't really write much back then, I was more into drawing line art and making OCs that way. When I got to grade 4 or 5ish I stopped reading on my own almost completely, besides an occasional book or two, and I was more likely to read non-fiction to learn about animals (like sharks. I really like sharks.). I think as I stopped reading I also stopped writing, because I didn't start reading for pleasure again until I was 15. And then suddenly I started writing again.

Around then I mostly read YA fantasy in my free time, so I started writing a story about dragons (two brother dragons, Valdore and Arian, their father Failias, and their mother S... something with an S at least. (I could literally check this right now but I just had a huge meal and I'm feeling sluggish haha). Ok it was bugging me not knowing and I got up to look for it (and it took like 5 minutes instead of the 10 seconds I thought it would lol) and her name was Sarhina. I attempted this story a couple times but was fully pantsing it, not really sure which direction to go in. I wrote about three or four very, very short chapters before I started writing something else. Valdore was one of the OCs I had come up with back in elementary school, I think as young as 6 years old, so I was still happy that I attempted writing a story about him.

The next story I wanted to write was a futuristic apocalypse story where the main characters fought demons as they came out at dawn. This one I progressed even less than the dragon story, the OCs were much newer. Originally I had called this story Survival of the Fittest, then I changed the premise completely to the main characters either appearing in a new world or already living there (I suppose it was a genre change to a portal fantasy). I kept some of the apocalyptic vibes the same, the world had time seasons that went through the life and death of the ecosystem and structures on the land, then back to rebirth. One season was new growth, buildings were small but structurally sound, even people felt refreshed. Another season was abundance, buildings were large and had character to them, people felt their best and were at their strongest. The third season was scarcity and death, buildings crumbled from age, people were struggling to survive. Then it would start again with the rebirth of the land. Again, didn't really know where I was going with this story but the world building was much better developed than the first.

Somewhere in between both of these stories in my teens, I wrote some more Pokemon fanfic that I had started to share on DeviantArt.

There were also a half dozen or so other WIPs that I had started and didn't get further than a paragraph or two. For some reason I deleted many of these :(

Then the first novel-length story I ever finished is (BEING RELEASED TOMORROW!!!!) The Quiet Forest. Runnicka is an old OC from my elementary school drawings (though she's changed since then, I happened to get an ask earlier today that reminded me of this). It took me 11 years to finish writing it (from drafting to giving up and redrafting to finally writing my first outline to finishing the actual first draft, then many, many edits), plus a year to query over 100 agents. It's the longest I've ever stuck to anything before, and so it's been a huge accomplishment finishing it, finishing querying, and now deciding to share it online (more about the story here).

I've had a series of smaller writing wins (ie finished stories) before The Quiet Forest was finished, though! I wrote about 10 flash fictions in 2020, some that I'd like to revisit and edit to better match my current writing skill level. One of them is already ready to read on my AO3 account! And last year I wrote over 80k words between two first drafts for two separate novels, and two finished short stories, one a Legend of Dragoon fanfic (also on my AO3), and another that I wrote as a writing sample for a contract writing position (almost got in but there were hundreds of entries and only about 5 or 6 spots), but I am working to get it published! And speaking of publishing, in 2023 I got randomly inspired to write All You Hear Is My Voice which got published early this year. It's a sci fi/speculative romance where a lonely queer man has reverse telepathy--instead of hearing everyone's thoughts, he's involuntarily projecting every thought he has into the minds of others nearby. Makes it hard for him to meet understanding people, and even harder to date. The thing that makes it sci fi is that it takes place on Mars :)

[catladywriter]

Inotan Fanfic: Pet the Cat - Chapter 3

No Comparison

Synopsis: Inosuke wasn’t sure why he bothered rescuing the cat. In the wild, it was survival of the fittest and the weak were left to die. But saving the cat felt like something Tanjirou, Zenitsu, and even Nezuko would do. Before he could second guess his decision, he’d jumped into the freezing cold river at the beginning of winter without a shirt on and plucked the drowning feline from the clutches of death.

But far from being grateful, the cat turned out to be a good-for-nothing that poached his underlings and bossed them around in ways unimaginable to him. When it started competing with him for attention from his Underling Number One, Inosuke decided he must show this arrogant fluffball who’s boss!

Main Pairing: Inotan (Inosuke x Tanjirou)

Secondary Pairing: ZenNezu (Zenitsu x Nezuko)

Setting: Canon AU, 2 years after the main story ends

Wordcount: 11,200+ across 3 chapters

Chapters: 1 2 3

Status: Complete. 3rd story in the Series: Where the Wisteria Always Bloom.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The next morning, Inosuke munched on his omelette while Tanjirou fielded awkward questions from Nezuko and Zenitsu. The deep, vertical scars below Inosuke’s nape had scabbed over and were now a dark maroon, with a slight puffiness around them. Tanjirou had tried, and failed to convince his companions that Kuro-chan had attacked Inosuke for unknown reasons.

Tanjirou wore all his emotions on his face. Everyone could tell from the grotesque facial expression he made that something was not adding up.

“Be honest, you left those scratches on him, didn’t you?” Zenitsu asked, with a mix of amusement and revulsion on his face.

Tanjirou’s infamous lying face gave way to genuine confusion. “Of course not! I wouldn’t hurt Inosuke like that. Besides, I don't keep my nails long. It'd just get in the way of cooking." He stretched out his hands for Zenitsu to inspect his short, neatly-trimmed nails.

Zenitsu couldn't find any issues with his nails, but he continued eyeing him with deep suspicion. Eventually, he snorted and said, “I believe you. But it looks like Kuro-chan must really hate Inosuke. Never heard of cats attacking people for no reason other than being provoked or for self-defence.”

“I hate the dumb cat too!” Inosuke growled.

“This is all a misunderstanding,” Tanjirou said in a gentle voice. “Animals don’t hate. They act on their survival instincts. You of all people should understand that.”

“Hmmph!” Inosuke grumbled as he scooped up a second helping of omelette onto his plate.

*

Since that last altercation with Kuro-chan, Inosuke kept his distance from the cat. He hadn’t carried out his threat of ripping off Kuro-chan’s balls. He maintained that there was no joy in scoring a win against something much smaller than him. It was absolutely not because the cat might scratch him and embarrass him in front of his favourite underling again. Not at all.

Tanjirou had stopped trying to get Inosuke and Kuro-chan to befriend each other. He explained that he couldn’t bear to see Inosuke get hurt again. Inosuke was irritated that Tanjirou thought he would lose to a cat, but also touched to know that he cared so much about him.

For a while, Kuro-chan had avoided Inosuke as well, but it soon returned to its arrogant ways, acting as if the incident had never happened. It grew bolder and developed a new and particularly annoying habit - jumping up on the dining table whenever they were eating.

This evening, Nezuko had given Kuro-chan a bowl of steamed chicken. But the cat had only taken a few bites before jumping up on the table to sniff at their bowl of tempura.

“Woah Kuro-chan, don’t do that!” Zenitsu held the cat by the scruff of its neck to prevent it from putting its nose into the bowl.

“Do you want tempura too?” Tanjirou asked. “I’ll give you one, but wait a moment while I do something. It’s too oily for you if you eat it like this.” Tanjirou fished a prawn tempura out with his chopsticks and wiggled it in front of Kuro-chan’s nose. The cat followed it to his side of the table.

"Hey, don't encourage him," Zenitsu warned. "It'll be troublesome if he jumps on the table when we have customers."

"Don't worry, he won't do that," Tanjirou reassured him. "He's scared of strangers."

Inosuke observed that Zenitsu was usually no better than Tanjirou when it came to indulging the cat. He continued to sacrifice his furniture and space whenever the cat demanded it, and claimed that it was because the cat adored his scent. But on rare occasions like this, his practical nature took over and he would prioritise their business over the cat’s needs. This was one of those few times when Inosuke agreed with Zenitsu.

“Here you go, Kuro-chan!”

To Inosuke's horror, Tanjirou had removed the crispy tempura skin, which was, in his opinion, the best part of the tempura. He gave the prawn beneath it to Kuro-chan. What a terrible waste of a good tempura!

“First, you spoil Inosuke. And now you’re spoiling Kuro-chan too? We don’t need two Inosukes in this household.”

Inosuke started at the mention of his name. How dare Zenitsu speak of him in the same vein as the cat, like they’re even comparable? And what on earth did he mean by that? Surely the only thing better than one Inosuke was two of him? 

“Don’t exaggerate. Kuro-chan’s just a cat. He won’t eat much. Another one, Kuro-chan?” Tanjirou desecrated a fish tempura this time.

Inosuke did the only logical thing he could think of to stop Tanjirou from wasting anymore tempura on the dumb cat. He grabbed the entire bowl of tempura and gobbled up all its contents. Then he wiped his mouth carelessly and stuck out a tongue at the feline. He felt a sense of satisfaction as he watched Kuro-chan squint its eyes and purse its lips. Its ears moved back and its tail flicked back and forth. It was not amused.

Zenitsu was the first at the table to recover from the shock at Inosuke’s behaviour.

“Hey! What the hell! I haven’t even had any! This is all your fault, Tanjirooou!!!” Zenitsu wailed.

“That's rude, Inosuke,” Tanjirou chided. He took out a handkerchief and wiped tempura crumbs off Inosuke’s face.

“You were ruining the tempura!”

Kuro-chan gave a grumpy meow and stared at Zenitsu.

“At least you still have chicken.” Zenitsu gave a sad shrug.

“Don’t worry, I have some extra tempura in the oven,” Nezuko announced. “I’ll get us some more! None for you though, Kuro-chan. And definitely none for you, Inosuke. You just had an entire bowl, I’m not going to spoil you!” She laughed.

“Thank goodness for Nezuko-chan’s good sense!” Zenitsu cheered.

Inosuke watched longingly as the others crunched on their tempura. Zenitsu had shooed Kuro-chan back to the floor and it returned to eating its chicken. Which left Inosuke all by his lonesome with a bowl of plain rice.

“Here, have one of mine,” Tanjirou held out a tempura to him with his chopsticks. Inosuke accepted it with eagerness and devoured it.

Zenitsu shook his head and mumbled something about "two peas in a pod."

Hmm, what peas? There’s only tempura, and most of it is in his belly. Heh. If the dumb cat thought it could outwit him and steal all his favourite things, it was wrong, very wrong.

*

A few weeks passed and winter thawed, along with Inosuke’s disdain for Kuro-chan. They still weren’t friends, but they were at least able to coexist in peace without further bloodshed. After careful observation, Inosuke was satisfied that the cat posed no threat to his status as boss of the household. No matter what it did, he would always outshine it and have Tanjirou's full attention and affection.

The Wisteria Garden closed for one day each week so they could have a well-deserved rest. Today was one of those days. Despite not having to open the eatery, they still went back on these rest days to feed Kuro-chan, taking turns with Zenitsu and Nezuko.

It became even more important for them to check on Kuro-chan after they learned that wisteria was toxic to cats. They found out the hard way after Kuro-chan had diarrhoea from rolling around in a pile of wisteria petals and presumably eating some. Tanjirou had considered bringing Kuro-chan back to their house in the mountains. Inosuke angsted over how to get him to drop the idea. How was he going to do lovey-dovey things with Tanjirou at home if he had to watch his back for the cat all the time? Thankfully, they all agreed it would be stressful for Kuro-chan to move when it had settled down so well at the eatery. So they fenced off the area around the Wisteria trees to keep Kuro-chan from getting near. But they still had to sweep the garden daily to keep the ground free of wisteria petals and seeds.

Inosuke found all this an absolute hassle. Animals were supposed to have survival instincts. Especially considering that Kuro-chan had grown up in the wild and did fine before it fell into the river. But Tanjirou said that once an animal was domesticated, it wouldn’t be able to survive on its own outside. It was their responsibility to care for it for life. This was precisely why Kanao adopted all their fallen comrades' animal companions and let them roam the spacious grounds of the Butterfly Mansion.

Inosuke was appalled by the idea of spending the rest of his life with the wretched cat. He willed himself to stop thinking about it and focus on the present. After all, he was cuddling with his favourite underling on a bench in a beautiful garden where wisteria bloomed in any season, on a quiet and tranquil afternoon. Say, maybe this would be a good time to…

“Meow!”

Arrgh. And his least favourite underling had turned up, ruining the mood completely. Kuro-chan sidled up to Tanjirou and rubbed its body against his leg as usual. Then, it headbutted Inosuke hard on his shin.

“Ow! What does the dumb cat want now?” Inosuke rubbed his shin in indignation. The cat went to his other leg and headbutted him on his other shin.

“Hey!” Inosuke shook a fist at it. Tanjirou looped his arm around Inosuke’s to stop him.

“When cats headbutt, it’s an act of affection. Kuro-chan must want your attention because you’ve been ignoring him. Cats have excellent memories and he has always been grateful that you saved his life, Inosuke!”

Kuro-chan continued to press its head against his knee. The cat's head movements were persistent, as if it was determined to get Inosuke's attention. Even through the fabric of his pants, Inosuke could feel the heat from the cat’s soft, furry body. He was surprised to find it pleasant and soothing, and a warm and fuzzy sensation soon spread through his body. He felt his previous anger and resentment at the cat melting away. He could sort of understand why his friends were fascinated by it. The cat was kind of cute.

"You can give him some chin scratches! He looks like he wants some!" Tanjirou suggested as he watched Kuro-chan rub its chin against Inosuke's leg.

"Nah. I'll let the silly cat grovel at my feet as punishment." The cat had been a rude little shit. If he forgave it so easily, how could he keep his underlings in line?

Tanjirou laughed. "Cats won't do that. They're too proud. Besides, look at his sweet little face. Can you bear to ignore him?"

As if to prove Tanjirou right, Kuro-chan promptly went over to Tanjirou and nuzzled its head against his knee. Inosuke felt a twinge of annoyance at the sudden loss of warmth and weight against his own leg.

Tanjirou bent over to scratch Kuro-chan's chin. "Are you unhappy that Inosuke's ignoring you? That's okay, I'll give you all the scritches you want,” he said in a sing-song voice that he usually reserved for interacting with very young children.

In a sudden movement, Kuro-chan leapt onto Tanjirou’s lap. This was apparently a new development, because Tanjirou let out an uncharacteristic squeal of joy. “Did you see that, Inosuke! He jumped on my lap!”

Tanjirou began to give the cat harder scritches around its ears, his eyes crinkling with delight as he called it a “good boy”. The cat purred and nuzzled Tanjirou’s chest, basking in the attention. Inosuke took a deep breath and shut his eyes, resisting the urge to scream and wring the furry little neck. The cat would eventually have enough and leave on its own accord, he reminded himself. There's no need to blow up and get into a brawl with the cat.

It’s not like he was afraid of getting scratched, really. He’s tough and strong and the stupid cat’s tiny claws would never do any meaningful damage to him. But Tanjirou was always so uptight about his injuries, no matter how insignificant they were. As a good boss, he mustn’t make his favourite underling worry about him.

Several torturous minutes passed, and Inosuke could still sense the cat's presence next to him. Why was it taking so long? He opened his eyes. The cat had settled down in Tanjirou's lap, its eyes closed, its little head leaning against Tanjirou's chest, and its neck vibrating with purrs.

Noticing Inosuke's gaze, Tanjirou held up a finger to his own lips. “He’s asleep. Let’s not wake him up,” he whispered. Inosuke felt his frustration building again. Kuro-chan took long naps. Surely Tanjirou wasn’t planning to sit here for as long as it stayed asleep? Even without attacking him, the cat was ruining their date. He briefly considered ignoring Tanjirou’s request. But the side of him that wanted to prove himself as the best boss and boyfriend won over, and he held his tongue and nodded stiffly.

“Thank you, Inosuke,” Tanjirou whispered. He placed a hand on Inosuke's head and ruffled his hair. Inosuke felt a surge of warmth and contentment from the head pet, like he could float away with happiness. He had the sudden urge to get up and run as fast as he could to expend that sugar rush.

“Going for a run,” Inosuke gestured. Tanjirou nodded with an encouraging smile.

With a level of stealth he didn't usually use, he darted off until he was sure he was out of earshot. Then, letting out a roar, he ran wild, charging around like a wild boar. He relished the sensation of the wind rushing past him and his feet pounding hard on the ground. And above all, he left his resentment and annoyance in the snowy trail of footsteps behind him.

*

Inosuke was in high spirits when he returned. Even Kuro-chan looked positively cute, curled up and still sound asleep in Tanjirou’s lap. Tanjirou sat still as a statue, as if he feared that the slightest movement would disturb the sleeping cat. Inosuke felt a strong urge to tease or tickle him. But as he leaned in closer, he realized that Tanjirou was nodding off, and his head was drooping to the side. Without hesitation, Inosuke sat down next to Tanjirou, who dozed off on his shoulder.

Tanjirou must be so exhausted to be able to fall asleep while sitting upright, Inosuke thought. He always worked so hard, but he remained cheerful and upbeat, unlike Zenitsu, or even himself. Inosuke couldn’t help but secretly admire his lover once again. It was difficult to resist the urge to fidget, but he didn't want to wake Tanjirou up. So, he tried to stay focused while practicing Total Concentration Breathing. Before long, his eyelids felt heavy, and he too was lulled to sleep by the soothing melody of Kuro-chan’s purring merged with Tanjirou’s calming, even breathing.

A movement beside him jolted him awake. He opened his eyes to find that he was resting against Tanjirou’s shoulder. Some time must have passed because the sky was darker than he last remembered. He heard Tanjirou’s voice, tinged with a slight panic.

“Don’t, Kuro-chan! You’ll be in trouble if you swallow it.”

Kuro-chan had one of Tanjirou’s shirt buttons between its teeth and it was tugging at it. Tanjirou had a hand on its scruff and another hand on its head, trying to push it away.

Inosuke couldn't believe it. He’d let down his guard and fallen asleep. And the wretched cat had taken advantage of this opportunity to make a move on his favourite underling! A surge of fury rose within him. Undoing Tanjirou’s shirt buttons is his privilege!

“Stupid animal, I'll show you who's boss!”

Inosuke grabbed Tanjirou and pulled him into his own lap, hugging him possessively. The sudden movement startled Kuro-chan. It hissed and leapt off, its fur standing on end and its tail bushy. Tanjirou let out a gasp of surprise. He held out his arm, wincing slightly.

Inosuke's heart raced as he saw the ripped sleeve of Tanjirou's shirt. There was a slight tinge of red against the jagged edges of the fabric. The cat had scratched Tanjirou. Why did it do that? Didn't Nezuko say that Tanjirou was its favourite human?

“Don’t worry, Inosuke, the scratches are shallow. I just have to wash it.” Tanjirou climbed out of his lap and got to his feet.

“Stay put!” Inosuke commanded as he jumped to his feet. “Sit down and don’t move! I’ll be back soon!”

“I didn’t injure my legs!” Inosuke heard Tanjirou call out to him. But he was already running as fast as his legs could carry him to retrieve the first-aid kit.

*

When Inosuke returned, Tanjirou had removed his haori and rolled up his shirt sleeve, exposing the injury. With two layers of fabric as protective shields, the scratches were nowhere as severe as any that Inosuke had ever sustained. But his heart ached more for Tanjirou than for himself, especially knowing that he was partly responsible for it. Tanjirou thanked him for bringing the first aid kit, and proceeded to tend to the scratches. Inosuke wished he could help. But he was clumsy and rough and would cause him more pain, so he sat awkwardly beside him, wishing that he could be more useful.

Tanjirou disinfected the scratches and patted the wound dry. He decided not to bandage it as the bleeding had stopped and there wasn't much of an open wound. The skin around the scratches was pink and swollen. Inosuke knew, from personal experience, that it would take a few days for the swelling to go down.

“See, almost as good as new,” Tanjirou said as he smiled at Inosuke. “Your scratches were much worse than mine and they recovered quickly enough. Mine will be gone in a day or two.”

Inosuke tried to apologise. But that was a feat that made him tongue-tied. Instead, he blurted out, “I’ll pluck off all that stupid cat’s fur and turn it into cat soup!”

Tanjirou knitted his brows. “Please don’t do that. He was just scared. I’m fine, this is nothing.”

“That’s still no excuse to hurt you!” Inosuke said.

“He didn’t do it on purpose,” Tanjirou said. “He didn’t know any other way of defending himself. We are strong, so it’s our responsibility to care for the weak and vulnerable. That’s why you saved Kuro-chan in the first place, isn’t it? And that’s why we tried so hard to save him, because you brought him home.”

Oh. It all made sense now, the way they tried so hard to save it, Tanjirou asking him to name it, and then trying to help them to bond. All because they thought he wanted the cat.

It was his fault. There was no denying it. He had brought the wretched cat home. On several occasions, he tried to analyse his motivations for doing such a dumb and senseless thing. In the wild, animals rarely invited strange animals back to their territory. Those who were not part of the pack were deemed as threats and competitors. But Inosuke never imagined that a small cat could pose a threat. It had looked so tiny, helpless, alone and cold, shivering from head to toe and mewling pitifully when he pulled it out of the river. 

That's right. He must have brought the cat home out of pity. He knew the pains of growing up as an orphan and he sympathised with the little runt. At least he had his boar mum and family. 

Inosuke was never one to dwell on things like motivations and reasons. He liked doing whatever felt good to him, and his senses were usually right. But Kuro-chan had been such a huge source of annoyance that he wondered if his senses were broken that fateful day. Why did such a small creature turn out to be so difficult? As if hurting him wasn’t enough, it had now gone on to hurt his favourite person in the world.

“Inosuke, don’t regret what you did," Tanjirou said in a gentle voice, as though he had read Inosuke's mind. "We are all proud of you for rescuing Kuro-chan and bringing him into our home. He’s a bright spark and we like having him around. But you, Inosuke, are the shining star in our lives. You mean everything to us, especially to me. How could I prefer a cat over you? There is simply no comparison.”

Inosuke felt engulfed in warm and fuzzy feelings, as though he was being wrapped in a blanket on that winter afternoon. He also felt silly and guilty for letting his recklessness get the better of him again. Tanjirou valued him more than his own life. He knew that since that time Tanjirou took a stab for him from that sneaky train conductor. And here he was, vying with a cat for his attention, and hurting him in the process. The scratch wounds must still sting. Yet Tanjirou was ignoring his own discomfort and doing his best to console him.

“Isn’t there anything I can do for your injury?” he asked, staring at his own feet. 

“Hmm… you can kiss it better.”

“Huh?” Inosuke jerked his head up. He had never heard about wounds being kissed better. Licked, maybe, but kiss? He gingerly lifted Tanjirou’s arm and examined the scratches, unsure of how to proceed.

“No, silly, kiss here.” Tanjirou pointed at his own mouth.

“Oh! Of course, I can kiss you better!” Inosuke said, cheering up. “I’ll kiss you so good you’ll forget all the pain! You can count on me for that!”

I know,” Tanjirou beamed, his eyes twinkling with affection.

Inosuke was about to lean in and kiss him, but a thought sprang to his mind.

“Wait!” He ran to the middle of the garden and scanned the area for potential disruptors with his “Spatial Awareness” breathing technique. Satisfied with his findings, he ran back to Tanjirou. “Nobody and no cat around!”

He grabbed Tanjirou’s hand and pulled him behind a broad tree trunk, pressing him up against the rough bark. Tanjirou gave him a bashful smile, but didn’t resist him. He wrapped his arms around Inosuke’s neck and pulled him in for a passionate kiss.

*

The next day, Inosuke sat cross-legged on the floor beside Kuro-chan, deboning a fish. He placed the fish meat inside Kuro-chan’s food bowl and said, “You’re weak and vulnerable. That’s why someone strong like me has to look after you. But if you hurt Tanjirou again, I’ll debone you like this fish.”

Kuro-chan didn’t seem bothered by the supposed insult or threat. He lapped up his tribute from his new human servant.

Next story in the series: The Height of Friendship

「 ✦ Please support your creators by reblogging ✦ 」

Author's Notes: Thanks for reading! I really relished this opportunity to write about my favourite ship and my favourite subject - cats. I hope I managed to convey the realities of interacting with cats, especially ferals/strays. These animals lead rough lives in the harsh outdoors and can be defensive and suspicious for the sake of self-preservation. But if treated with kindness, they can become loyal and loving companions. This theme is very reminiscent of Inosuke's upbringing, so I felt it was fitting to incorporate it into his POV. Kuro-chan biting Tanjirou's buttons was inspired by my own cat biting the buttons on my clothes. Cats love small, dangly protruding things and my clothes have lace and buttons which my cat likes to play with when sitting on my lap. It's dangerous for them to swallow any sort of foreign object though, so they should never be allowed unsupervised near these ingestible things. And yes, Wisteria is poisonous to cats and dogs. I only just found this out. Yay! Fanfic is such a productive hobby that expands one's horizons :D Also, cue panic while I attempt damage control right before I upload the chapter. I tried to write this as realistically as I could with the era in mind. In the 1910-1920s, the concept of pets as family was probably an alien concept. But I believe Tanjirou and fam would treat a cat with as much kindness as they could. I hope my little story serves as a reminder to everyone to be kind to animals, especially homeless animals, and to be more patient and understanding if they act out. A shout-out of respect to everyone who opens their homes or hearts to rescue animals and strays! It is never easy, but it is extremely rewarding! Tanjirou might think the same about Inosuke ;).

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed my fic, it’d really make my day if you could drop a like, reblog, and/or comment to let me know! This story is also published on AO3 where you can comment anonymously! Although I mostly write for myself, your encouragement keeps me motivated to post and share my work.

[greaseofficial]

Touch of Gold

Silly Fanfic I've been working on if you guys like lmk.

War was not uncommon on the island, in fact peace was rare in the times it was needed most, many survivors trapping themselves in paradoxical alliances, only to find themselves betrayed or be the ones to betray. Survival was of the fittest in a world where the never-ending chaos of battle spun reality like a fine web, only those who could adapt were able to weave their way into victory, and even then the world kept spinning, time kept weaving on, every aspect of one’s life calculated and controlled, unknowingly or not by those around them. Time was of the essence, and The Society controlled time. 

Midas himself fell victim to the iron-fist ruling of the Society, they were loud, ceaseless, and unmatched in wit and power. At least that used to be the case. The Society was known for one thing above all else, its endless supply of gold. The resource was dominated by the organization, only comparable to ammunition in importance and outweighing the latter by ten-fold. Gold could buy a man just about anything on this battle-ridden island, Gold was power, and by God did Midas have power.

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC F/AotW - Oct 29 - Nov 4, 2023

✒️= Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨= Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+ 🏳️‍🌈 = LGBTQIA 🎃 = Halloween

BLADES OF LIGHT & SHADOW

BLOODBOUND

Kamilah Sayeed Fanart 🎨by @myautumnrose

Lily Spencer Fanart 🎨 by @sazanes

CRIMES OF PASSION

Crimes Drabble ✒️ 🏳️‍🌈| Trystan Thorne x MC - @lilyoffandoms

Marguerite's Halloween Bacchanalia, Part 1 | Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @moominofthevalley ✒️🎃

Marguerite's Halloween Bacchanalia, Part 2 | Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @moominofthevalley ✒️🎃

FIRST COMES LOVE

Blake Marshall x MC Fanart 🎨by @mydemonsdrivealimo for @totojo2

IMMORTAL DESIRES

When the Dark Comes, Leave a Light ✒️🏳️‍🌈| m! cas x m!gabe - @aria-ashryver

NIGHTBOUND

Duty & Pleasure ✒️| Nik Ryder x F!MC - @ladylamrian

OPEN HEART

THE ROYAL ROMANCE

Birthday ✒️🎨 | Drake Walker x MC art by @rosefuckinggeniusfic by @petiteboheme

Trick or Treat ✒️| Liam Rys x F!OC - @kristinamae093

Vancross (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys x F!OC - @ao719 Chapter 19: As Long As There's You At My Side

WAKE THE DEAD

Survival of the Fittest 🎨| Brynn, f!mc / Brynn, m!mc @fairymatchmaker

Troy Hassan x Saeed🎨🏳️‍🌈by @/artbyainna (C: @lilyoffandoms)

*** Please note: Since we were on vacation last week, these fics/creations will be reblogged on CFWC between now and Friday, November 10th.

[jupitersrising]

Theory of Evolution has everyone's pov (besides Ben obviously). Here's me ranking writing their povs from easiest to hardest.

First off has to be Ben, I've been writing his pov for two years. There is not competition here. Sometimes I feel like he's too dark? ooc? So I add in a goofy moment like yes, that is Ben Pincus right there. Trauma and unrelenting social awkwardness.

Next up, my absolute favorite to write ever oh my lord—Sammy! She's the best, what can I say. I love writing from her pov like no other. Balancing her self sacrificial attitude next to her optimism and absolute love for her friends in the world brings out something deep within me.

Brooklynn has to come next. She's an angry girl who's whole life was online and now she's learning how to be a person. She's. Learning. How. To. Be. A. Person. I love it, her thought patterns and quick blame is so intriguing to me.

Kenji because to be honest, he's the mid pov to write. I know I'm sorry I love him too. But...its just a pov that is pretty easy for me to write and isn't as interesting as Brooklynn's or Sammy's. Sometimes I trip up on the writing style, but I think switching from him being a silly guy into the most depressing thought pattern known to man is truly all it is.

Yasmina fucking Fadoula. How I have failed you. Everything I write in her pov sounds wrong. I can't get her voice even though I relate to her so deeply as a character. Everything just sounds too clinical. The backspace is abused whenever I write her, let me just say. Which is a shame, because I love her.

Finally, painfully, is Darius Bowman. I can't get him right. Istg. I love his perspective, his hero complex pared with his barely clinging innocence is like, my shit. The amount of research I do for his pov alone is astounding. He's literally the main character of an ensemble cast, you'd think I'd figure out how to characterize him. But no, its all wrong.

Disclaimer: This is not me ranking the characters based on how much I like them. It's how easy and fun their pov is to write, it has nothing to do with the characters themselves lol.

[thisisbugsy]

My oc Stacy again! This time as an oc-insert for a fanfic I wrote. Though I don’t use her description in the book I do like drawing out scenarios with her to help me write. Total Drama Island: Survival of the Fittest!

[onequeertorulethemall]

I've got an Animorphs fanfic idea kicking around in my head of Jake's parents deciding to celebrate Passover and inviting Rachel and her sisters. Considering they've been non-observant for most of their lives neither Jake or Rachel considers the parallel themes of slavery and freedom between their lives and the Exodus story until they're listening to Tom (the Yeerk in his head) wax poetic about the value of freedom and what a bad guy Pharaoh was. Or maybe the Yeerk would actually be the heartless edge lord he is and be like "🤷‍♀️ survival of the fittest. If the Israelites were too weak to fight Pharaoh then maybe they didn't deserve to escape"

I've been reading some Haggadah summaries and I just don't know enough to know what parts of the seder can be glossed over and what parts should be emphasized. It's been so long since I wrote anything but I feel like this fic needs to be written.

[chrryvanillacoke]

Survival of the Fittest: Ch 1 The Fall

The Walking Dead (2010) fanfic Rick Grimes x Original female character.

Word Count: 1524

No smut

Triggers: Animal death, character deaths, slight gore descriptions at beginning

"Summer was my favorite season, especially during August when the warm Georgia sun and the salty breezes reached their peaks. Classes had started the week prior and everything in life was perfect, til it wasn’t no more. Nothing could prepare you for how fast the world can go from perfectly normal to a fallen society overnight. Our worst enemy was now our own kind. Neighbors became threats, friends succumbed to a fate worse than death, and the dead no longer desired to rest. 

It was August 25, 2010. My best friend Maddie and I were walking to the cafeteria on campus when we saw it. One of the girls from our biology class named Hailey was on the ground screaming and wrestling a person on top of her, both covered in blood. I hadn’t noticed at first that the reason they were covered in blood was because the person atop her was biting into her neck and eating it (I can still remember the sound it made when it ripped). Campus erupted into a frenzy and I saw more of my classmates getting tackled by the same thing Hailey had, so I grabbed Maddie and took off towards my truck. I tried, I really did. I ran as fast as I could. Maddie didn’t make it. She was ripped from my arms by one of the flesh eaters. I turned around for only a second to see her swarmed by a group of them. (Where did they all come from?) I will never forget the look I saw on her face. I learned that day to never look back. The day of the “outbreak” was the last day I ever set foot on campus again. It was the last day the world was normal. And to be perfectly honest, I don’t think it will ever be normal again. "

Bella Thompson 8/31/10

After signing my name I place the pen and notebook down on my desk next to me and lean back in my chair. It’s been six days since the world fell apart. Six days of being cooped up in my family's farmhouse that resides on the outskirts of the city. 

Six days since Maddie… 

“Goddammit!” I yell, pushing away from my desk and throwing the notebook across my room. It hits the wall with a loud thud alerting my mother.

“Bella?” Her soft voice brought my attention to my now cracked open door, the light behind my mother filtering in illuminating her small frame, “everythin’ all right?” 

Her graying-blonde hair was a mess and she looked tired. We were all exhausted, unable to sleep soundly in fear of a flesh eater wandering upon our property. When I didn’t answer she stepped in my room and shut the door behind her. 

“Hun, it wadn’t your fault,” she walks over to where my notebook lie on the floor and picks it up, “Maddie wouldn’t blame you for what happened to her, and neither would her-,” 

“That’s ‘cause they're dead,” my voice barely audible, tears pricking my eyes,

“They can’t blame me ‘cause they’re dead.” I clench my teeth in hopes that the tears would go away. 

I could see my mother frown and her brows knit in contemplation as she set the notebook back on my desk. She stands in front of me, tucking my hair behind my ears. She seemed so much smaller than she did before the outbreak. Thinner, frailer,-

“We don’t know that ‘er parents are dead hun, once the radio comes back on and we hear that things are cleared up in the city we’ll head right over.” I know she was just trying to reassure me, but there was nothing that could get me to believe that things were ‘going to be cleared up,’ not after what I saw. Mom hadn’t seen what happened that day. She didn’t see or hear what happened when a flesh eater got ahold of you.

“Dinner is ready if yer hungry, yer father and brother are already at the dinner table,” she stands by the door once more, waiting for me to answer.

“I’ll be down in a few,” and with that she left to return to the kitchen. With the world the way it was we were lucky to have a semi-normal routine. The farm has been supporting my family for generations, and even now at the end of the world, the farm still stood strong and undisturbed. I’ve never been more grateful for the farm till now. 

With a sigh I stand up and make my way downstairs to the kitchen. 

“And she lives!” My father jokes as I descend the steps.

“Rob-,” I hear my mother smack his arm, his silent protests follow suit with my moms whispered pestering. I sat down at my chair at the table across from my younger brother Elijah. He was eating away at his canned Spaghettios when he looked up at me mid spoonful.

“Hey Bell.”

“Hey Eli,” I grab my spoon and take a spoonful of the can of Spaghettios in front of me.

“How were the traps with dad this morning?” I could see Eli practically jump out of his chair at the chance to tell about his adventure. 

“Had a good catch today, there was a coyote and two rabbits, one of the traps ransacked though,” he paused to look at our dad for approval to continue his story and when he gave Eli a nod he started to beam, “we also saw a flesh eater, it was caught up in one of the wire fences, very south side.” 

I could see my mother go stiff from the corner of my eye, whether it was because of me and the mention of a flesh eater or because she didn’t know about this encounter was beyond me. My dad cleared his throat before speaking.

“There was just one of ‘em, no threat, had Eli stick ‘em in the head for practice,” now I knew for sure it was because my mother was unaware of this encounter because she slams the dish she was drying down on the counter. 

“Robert, we agreed to keep Bella and Elijah away from them,” she turns around and stalks over to my father who was still seated, “WE agreed that they would not go anywhere near one, BOTH of us.” My father sighed in response, oh he was gonna get an earful tonight.

“Robert, do not sigh at me, I am your wife,” she was fuming, “anythang could have happened to either of y’all and Bella and I wouldn’t ‘ve known, what then Robert?”

“Hun,” he took a deep breath, “I’m not gonna be ‘round forever, Eli and Bella both need ‘ta know-” my mother shushes him. 

“Not ‘nother word out yer mouth Robert,'' she looked over towards my brother and I, “leave yer dinner and go upstairs you two.'' Her southern accent was thicker now. Elijah scarfs  down a few more spoonfuls and I finish the one I was on and we head upstairs. When my brother and I got to our bedroom doors he tugs on my shirt. 

“Can I sleep in your room tonight?” How could I ever say no to him? 

“Course ya can, go get your blankets and whatever else ya need,” I gave him a smile and leave my door open for him, “close it when ya come in.” 

He hurriedly grabbed his favorite blanket, stuffed bear, and pillow and leaped into his side of my bed. Luckily my bed was big enough for both of us because I would not willingly give up my bed even for him. 

I smile as I watch him get all snug under the sheets before he looks up at me looking sad.

“Mom and dad are gonna fight arn’t they?” He cradles his stuffed bear as I sit next to him. I knew there was nothing comforting I could say and there was no point in lying to him.

“Yeah, but it’s not ‘cause ‘yer in trouble Eli, it’s ‘cause mom just wants ya safe, it’d kill ‘er if somethin’ happened to ya, it’d kill all of us.”

He looks down at his hands that were now fiddling with his blanket. I lower my face to his.

“But it’s alright ‘cause it means we get ta have a sleepover,” I attempt to lighten the mood and he lets out a giggle with a mischievous grin on his face. 

“Last one ta’ sleep is a rotten egg!” He shouts and turns over on his side, pulling the blanket up to his chin.

“Oh no ya don’t!” I began tickling him and he thrashes around.

 “STOP! Bella! It hurts, I-I can’t laugh anymore,” he’s barely able to make out the words between giggles. I let up my attack on him and get under the covers as his giggles subside.

I pretend to sleep until I can hear his breathing even out. 

“Goodnight Eli,” I whisper and give his forehead a kiss, turning back over and falling asleep myself

I was greeted by Maddie’s faint screams again that night.

[paragonrobits]

I've seen a lot of discussion lately about how a lot of fandom work that is transformative towards fanfic often tends to just flatten what makes those stories unique in flavor of playing out motifs that people happen to like (example, ignoring relationships in favor of fan-favored ones that lean more towards a common dynamic), and Transformers fandom does a fair amount of this, in a variant that is specifically about ignoring canonical team dynamics and the faction's actual character in favor of a found family dynamic

So apparently its popular, especially among Optimus/Megatron shippers, to depict the Decepticons as a found family that treat Optimus right when he joins them in this fics. That on its own is not too noteworthy; i personally find this off-putting, of course, and the fandom in general has this aspect of ignoring the Decepticons canonically being overly genocidal supremacists whose internal politics tend to shift between borderline worship of a Strong Man or extreme survival of the fittest mentality. That's PARTIALLY related to why I find this particular trope confusing, but that's not the main bit.

Rather, its that the Decepticons almost NEVER (and to my knowledge, I can't think of ANY incarnation of them that averts this) have a found family dynamic. They are not kind to each other. They do not generally love each other. Even at the best of times they barely tolerate one another.

Looking at Transformers Prime as an example, early episodes yield a realizaiton that the Decepticons we see don't really have much of a grasp on positive relationships, or really any kind of relationship that isn't founded in a strict heirarchy or hostility. Knock-Out and Starscream are pretty obviously friends but they don't seem to understand that, or grasp how to interact with each other at all in a way that isn't constant low-key insults that are secretly compliments since they're not overtly hostile.

Prime DOES have a found family that don't think purely in terms of military might, or varying between slavish obedience to their grand overlord or plots to overthrow him, or have an interest in befriending the alien races among which they live- ITS THE AUTOBOTS. THE AUTOBOTS DO THIS. THE DECEPTICONS DON'T.

But this illustrates the point; you see a lot of fandom work that broadly attempts to depict the Decepticons as a noble rabble of revolutionaries opposing a corrupt dictatorship that knows nothing of love. And this is very strange in light of the fact that the Decepticons are almost always depicted as strictly military conquerors that think purely in terms of chain of command, or they all hate each other and every single one of them is secretly plotting to take over, or they're just a miserable bunch of smugly hateful assholes who have no real concept of a positive relationship beyond a strict chain of command.

The IDW series saw a particularly eyebrow-raising version of this, when you had the fandom overwhelmingly convinced that the Decepticons were noble revolutionaries seeking refuge on Earth from Autobot oppression, when in canon not only did the Decepticons quickly assume increasingly larger control of Cybertron's political functions, but even the most benign and least malicious Decepticons in the Scavengers were still so bigoted and anti-organic that one of them went on an earnest rant about, and I quote, 'cleansing the galaxy of inferior life-forms too primitive to understand how inferior they were', with the tone of a frustrated idealist.

So in short, it begs the quesiton: what drives the fandom mentality to continually reinvent stories like this to the point of virtually being COMPLETELY divorced from the source material, when honestly you might as well just change the names and functionally make it your own thing?