Hello, welcome to Gen Work June, a month for sharing some Gen Works!
(Gen as in relationship category, not the rating)
The Goal
To do something related to a gen work during June. This can be writing something, it can be drawing something, there are some prompts below to use for that or you can make something completely unrelated to the prompts. You can make a rec list, you can share some of your old work again, you can just leave a nice comment on a gen work, set yourself a challenge, keep it nice and easy, everything counts here.
The Rules
This is a month intended for gen works- that is, works not focused on a romantic relationship- so keeping things gen is pretty much the only rule (though mentions of background romance is allowed).
Appropriate tagging for any major warnings, read mores for long posts, and image descriptions for images are also appreciated, though there is always some slack allowed for older posts being reblogged.
And, if you would like your work reblogged here, please tag @genworkjune, and there is also an AO3 collection found here.
The Prompts
(These are jumping off points- you don't need to use them if you have an entirely different idea that doesn't fit, it's up to you)
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I've put together a list of some favorite Gondor-focused gen fics for @genworkjune. Most are focused on the House of HĆŗrin and the House of Dol Amroth. All are book canon. Please leave a kudos and comment if you enjoy!
a fish, floundering on dry land by @ncfan-1 (Finduilas & Ivriniel, background Denethor/Finduilas, 4.1k):
Finduilas becomes acquainted with the shadow of the East.
The Burial of the Dead by Altariel (G, Denethor, Finduilas, Boromir, and Faramir, 1.5k, major character death):
Denethor remembers the dead and the dying.
Lady of Silences by Altariel (T, Finduilas, Denethor, Boromir, and Faramir, 1.3k, major character death):
Denethor, Finduilas, Boromir, Faramir: a very bleak vignette.
In Service, Love by @sallysavestheday (G, Isildur & Ohtar, 0.7k):
From the ruin of the Gladden Fields, where Isildur perished, three men only came ever back over the mountains after long wandering. One of these was Ohtar, the esquire of Isildur, who bore the shards of the sword of Elendil; and he brought them to Valandil, the heir of Isildur, who being but a child had remained in Rivendell. The Fellowship of the Ring, Ch 2, The Council of Elrond.
Ohtar is faithful.
The Manner of His Return by @thelordofgifs (G, Denethor & Faramir, Boromir & Faramir, Gandalf, 1.6k):
"You told me," Faramir says slowly, "that he would remember he loved me. Ere the end."
-
In the Houses of Healing, Faramir tries to understand, and to mourn.
princes of the city by @anghraine (G, Ivriniel & Imrahil, 1.6k):
The Lady Ivriniel did not like the King.
Remembrance by @anghraine (G, Faramir & LothĆriel, 0.5k):
They did not speak of LothĆriel in Rohan.
Seaward with the Dawn by genarti (G, Finduilas, 0.9k):
The sun of early spring rose silver over the Pelennor; its light came wavering through a bleached and overcast sky.
Shadows of the Dead by @hobbitwrangler (T, Denethor & Ivriniel, Imrahil & Ivriniel, Ivriniel & Finduilas, 8.8k):
Ivriniel's grief is not a gentle thing.
The Silence of Women by Altariel (G, Faramir & Boromir, 0.9k, CNTW):
A grief too great for words.
Too Burdened to Fly by @hobbitwrangler (G, Finduilas, 3k):
A look at Finduilas' thoughts during her final moments.
There are 5 Mondays this June, so let's do some Monday Fic Recs for @genworkjune! Starting with:
reaching up to touch the sky by @shrinkthisviolet, a Flash (TV 2014) series centred around Morgan Wells (an Earth-1 version of Jesse Wells) whom I love very much. There are some romantic relationships featured but the series is overwhelmingly gen
Series Description:
This series is my long-winded answer to "wait, but wouldnāt it be cool if Jesse had an E1 counterpart?"
Her name is Jesse Morgan Wells, Tina McGee is her godmother coparenting with Eobard Thawne (coparenting being a very generous term), and she's the same age as Jesse but a year behind her academically. She was also struck by the accelerator, but...you know. All in a day's work of being Eowells' daughter.
for @genworkjune iāve put together some of the fics iāve loved reading (ignore that itās the last day of the month please). as usual, donāt forget to leave a kudos or a comment if u enjoyed them! oh also, if this formatting seems familiar ā thatās because iāve shamelessly copied it off of @emyn-arnens; i just think itās neat XD! onward, and enjoy :)
O Wandering Winds by yet_intrepid (G, Faramir & Boromir, 3.5k):
By the time Faramir is told in his sleep of Isildur's Bane, he is already accustomed to seeing with more than his eyes.
The Darkest Lord by rhymer23 (G, Sauron, ~600 words):
Sauron sings us a summary of his nefarious deeds, in an attempt to prove that he is the ultimate Dark Lord of fantasy fiction.
Home Fires Burning by starryeyedknight (G, Hobbits, 5.2k):
The War of the Ring rages on and, in the Shire, the hobbits learn to live without those they love.
Eowynās New Toy by @torchwood-99 (Ćowyn & Gimli, 1.1k, cw gore):
Gimli, son of Gloin, pays a visit to the White Lady of Rohan, and brings with him a very welcome gift.
Something of Home by @emyn-arnens (G, Faramir & Finduilas, ~800 words):
Faramir never stops bringing his mother flowers.
with every seed you sow, let it wash away, wash away by @afaramir (G, Faramir & Legolas, Ćowyn & Faramir & Legolas, 3.9k):
In which an elf and a prince of Gondor speak of grief and death and the sea, and life and song and brothers.
Looking for Dragons by Raksha_The_Demon (G, Gandalf & Belladonna Took & Bungo Baggins, 1.3k):
Gandalf makes a new friend, in an unanticipated and fruitful meeting.
Too Burdened to Fly by @hobbitwrangler (G, Finduilas, 3k):
A look at Finduilas' thoughts during her final moments.
On Gardens and Growing Things by rhymer23 (G, Sam & Aragorn, 2.5k):
En route to Weathertop, Aragorn tries to ease Sam's distrust of him. It doesn't go quite as planned.
Bitter Was Their Parting by @dreamingthroughthenoise (G, Arwen & Elrond, 2.2k):
āYou knew,ā Arwen said, unable to meet her fatherās gaze. āYouāve always known what path I would follow.ā
On These Hither Shores by @emyn-arnens (G, Frodo & Boromir, 3.2k):
As the Fellowship travels south, Frodo and Boromir speak of their homes and families and come to understand one another, for a time.
The complexity of bachelorhood by unknownlifeform (G, Gimli & Boromir & the Hobbits, 1.5k):
Gimli explains to the Hobbits and Boromir that marriage is for Dwarves only one of the paths that can be taken.
The Horn of Gondor by @saentorine (T, Boromir, 3.5k):
Five-year-old Boromir receives the horn of Gondor, which goes about exactly how you'd expect.
Greenleafās Tree by @sotwk (G, Legolas & Thranduil, 2.8k):
Six-year-old Legolas goes on royal progress with Thranduil for the first time and learns more about the sort of king his father truly is.
The Fathers of Fools by Carlandrea (G, GlĆ³in & Thranduil, 1.3k):
GloĆn, on the way home to the Mountain, tells the Elvenking what has happened to his son.
The Adventures of Peregrine Took by bunn (G, Pippin & Sam & Merry, ~450 words):
A Poem by Samwise Gamgee (Mayor) and Merry Brandybuck on the occasion of Peregrine Took, Knight of Gondor, becoming Thain of the Shire.
What Keeps Us Here by @sallysavestheday (G, Celeborn & Thranduil, 1k):
Celeborn and Thranduil after the War. To sail or not to sail.
Different Ways To Light A Path by baby_bat_98 (G, Gimli & Legolas, 5.1k):
Legolas has a hard time in Khazad-dƻm. Gimli helps.
For Want of a Ring by @tathrin (G, Gimli & Legolas, 4k):
The aftermath of the Battle of the Hornburg is a time for the survivors to rest and heal, a brief pause in the long march to war. The same is true of the lone Dwarf and Elf who fought thereābut the members of the Fellowship of the Ring faced peril long before this bitter night, and some scars sit deeper than any mere bandage might soothe.
The Ring has gone beyond their reach now, with but one casualty from their Company to its name so far; but that does not mean its dark whispers do not linger still within the hearts that heard it.
But what could tempt an Elf of Mirkwood to look upon that terrible Shadow with aught but loathing?
the innermost life of my life by pinkmoon (G, Frodo & Sam, 1.5k):
Sam meets Frodo for the first time.
A Corner of the Hall by Zdenka (G, Aragorn & Bilbo, ~550 words):
Aragorn gives Bilbo the promised help with his song.
a red book pressed into his hands by dirgewithoutmusic (G, Bilbo & Frodo, Sam & Frodo, 2.4k):
Even on the sweet walks of the Shire, things come along that sweep you off your feetāadventures, wizards, children. Bilbo came down, a month after heād adopted this strange, quiet boy on a whim and a wonder, and found his whole (second) living room scattered with some unholy combination of paint, jam, and mud. Frodo sat in the middle of the mess, with dirty hands and innocence plastered all over his face.
Bilbo leaned on the door because something in that bright grin had taken his balance from him. He went for a mop. He had not felt so at home since thirteen dwarves had tumbled through his round green door. He felt like Frodo had stolen something from him and then given it back better than it had left.
Fandom: Detroit: Become Human
Characters: Connor, Hank Anderson
Relationship: Connor & Hank Anderson
Tags: Fluff, Swearing, Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional hurt/comfort, A little angst
Summary: Connor moves in with Hank after the Revolution. Everything about being alive is new, whether that be emotions or nightmares, and this change is scary. But he doesnāt have to face these challenges alone.
warnings: nightmare, mentions of death
Prompt: "affection"
for @genworkjune event
Read the story on AO3!
Or, read below:
Hank was a man who, Connor learned that fateful day outside Chicken Feed, liked to show affection in any way other than words. A fond, mutual smile and a warm hug. This was the strongest display of affection he could muster. Day to day his love shone through in other ways, not all of which would be noticed by an outside observer as acts of caring about another.
Even before the revolution, before Connor had stopped being an obedient machine, thereād been little ways heād showed he cared, despite saying the opposite. Heād tell Connor to get behind him when entering a room with an unknown threat, despite the fact, as the human, he was of weaker body and before Connor had deviated, the only of the two who couldnāt be simply replaced if he died. He showed affection by providing safety, the silent message of I will protect you.
Sometimes he showed it through his anger. After the incident on the Stratford Tower rooftop, the blond android firing at Connor before shooting himself in the head while they were still connected. Connor could have died, and Hank was furious. Why do you never listen to me? Why do you never do what I say?
Why donāt you let me protect you?
I was scared.
Despite the threat of Cyberlife banished from his mind, his people free, Connor was still scared. No longer of a tangible enemy, or a life-threatening job (they were on leave until things in the city settled down). No, he was simply just scared.
Scared of what?
He was scared.
Everything, so different and new now he had time to comprehend itāthe flood of emotions into his software, the lack of instructions, of a mission to follow. Heād even been homeless, but Hank had offered him a place to stay in his home, and heād taken it with a mumbled thanks.
The hug outside Chicken Feed had been tight, assuring. The culmination of their relationship up to this point.
But now what?
He was living in a home (living, rather than surviving, a strange concept). Heād never had a home, per se, only a small room with a charging station in Cyberlife Tower. Hank was there but there was no social relations protocol to guide him, there was no predictable flow of conversation without a job to unite them.
Yet it all seemed so easy for Hank. Sure, he seemed a little rusty having company over and sometimes jumped when he woke up and found Connor in stasis on the couch, or just sitting there, staring into space. As if heād forgotten he had a guest. But despite this he seemed to know exactly what to do. Well, it was his own home after all, he wasnāt a guest but the comfortable inhabitant, with his own rituals and routines.
Connor was simply a new element who felt well and truly out of his element.
He tried to cook for Hank, to aid him, but Hank didnāt seem to appreciate his efforts. He wasnāt exactly a good cook, since Cyberlife hadnāt created their detective prototype with culinary skills, so it was basically like a human learning to cook from the internet and despite his enhanced reflexes and precise fine motor skills, he still managed to burn fried eggs and left a distinct acrid smell in the kitchen that barely shifted when the window was cracked open. The other one on the far side of the room, not the main kitchen window which was still broken and boarded up with planks of wood.
He'd already apologised again for that, and hadnāt been able to offer his earlier assurance that Cyberlife would pay for the damages, becauseā¦ well, Cyberlife didnāt exist anymore. And he couldnāt exactly pay for it out of pocket because his access to money had been through Cyberlife.
Hank had just waved him off and said it was fine for now, seemingly unbothered. It was the same way heād opened his own so simply, so casually, as if it didnāt bother him. Things that should have been a big deal with discussions and solutions justā¦ werenāt.
He was a kind man beneath the layer of gruffness and expletives. Heād say, āfuck youā and then sit down beside Connor and put on a TV show he thought he might like. Ā
Connor concluded that he was a strange man, who didnāt make a lot of sense to him, full of contradictions and love that he let slip in small, healthy amounts.
He made no sense, and made perfect sense.
A couple of weeks had passed since theyād began living together. It hadnāt been without its ups and downs and kinks to work out, but where they were at was pretty seamless once rules had been introduced, like ādonāt fucking cook for me, everā and ālay down when youāre in stasis instead of sitting upright, itās fuckinā creepyā. They got through the days cooped up inside (humans werenāt allowed back in Detroit yet, so Hank going out seemed like a terrible idea) content with each otherās company, and Sumoās, of course. It had been a concern of Hankās that Sumo wouldnāt adjust well to the sudden change of Connor moving in, the dog pretty chill but still wary of strangers. But heād warmed up to the android instantly, to both of their relief. And Connor loved the big dog too, often sharing his company at night on the couch when he went into stasis mode.
Such was a night tonight as he lay on the couch, powering down to get some rest. Sumo was curled up on the end of the couch, leaving Connor a little squished down the other side, but he didnāt mind. It was still fairly cold, being winter in Detroit, and he had a soft blanket draped over him. One which Hank had wordlessly given him despite his protests that he was okay, and he didnāt need to have a blanket, he was an android. Hank had simply glared at him and dropped it on his lap. Let me protect you.
Stasis was usually a peaceful affair. Sometimes an androidās mind would filter through old memories to work on long term storage, or would construct new scenes based off thoughts and memories to help aid thinking skills. After deviancy sometimes these stasis-induced preconstructions would be lessā¦ useful, now with added feelings and emotions thrown into the mix, and could be compared to a human nightmare.
Such was what was troubling Connor tonight, causing him to twitch and mumble during stasis, LED spinning a troubled yellow.
He was back to before the Revolution, before his deviation, and Hank was there. It was during their investigation of Stratford Tower, on the rooftop. The blond-haired deviant was there again, and the location of Jericho flashed in his mind, andā
Fear. He was dying. He had no other choice, he had to sacrifice himself and lose his life or his people, his friends, Markus, they would lose everything. Pain tore through his head and through Connorās in turn as he picked up every feeling through the interface and suddenly the real world was back, in all its feeling and sound and sights.
The floor beneath him was covered in snow and it was spinning as his LED span red. Fear. That was what it felt like to die. A whole lot of anguish and then sharp pain and thenā
Nothing. There would be nothing.
Hank was shouting, he barely heard him. He stumbled backwards, finding purchase on the structure behind him and he leant against it, propping himself upright, as if the next gust of cold wind would blow him away, off the rooftop and down to his death. Dying. He was going to die.
Fear.
āIā¦ felt it die. Like I was dying. I was scared.ā
Scared.
Hank stared back at him. Then he grasped Connor by the shoulders and stared into his eyes.
āAndroids donāt feel fear. Thatās what you told me. But what was it again? Oh yeah, that deviants doā¦ Are you a fucking deviant, Connor?ā
He couldnāt speak. He was scared; it was cold. Cold, blizzard, Amanda. He was spinning out of control.
Then, Hank took his hands away. The warmth was gone, and it was even colder.
He gestured to the cops around them. āThis oneās a deviant, boys. Bring him in.ā
Suddenly hands were grabbing him again and he struggled. āNo, no, Iām not a deviant, Iā Hank! Hank, please!ā
But he was being dragged away. Dragged away to his death and Hank was simply staring at him. His eyes were as cold as the steel structures around them.
He blinked, and suddenly, he was back at the DPD. He was in the interrogation room, sitting in the cold metal chair, exceptā
Except he was the one being interrogated. His hands were cuffed to the table and when he looked up, he saw Hank staring back at him.
āSay something, goddamnit!ā
Hank slammed his hands against the table.
āWhatās the location of Jericho? You found it out up there, didnāt you? Just fuckinā tell us so we can go raid the place and send your sorry ass back to Cyberlife.ā
Connor opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He felt strongly that he shouldnāt speak, or at least, shouldnāt share this information. No, if he shared it then Jericho would be raided by the humans and lots of innocent androids would die because of him.
Hank turned to the glass. āWeāre getting nothing out of it. Weāre wasting our time interrogating a machine!ā
He got up, and as he did, the door opened. In came another android, one who looked just like him, except he had steely blue eyes and a pristine white suit. He was followed by Gavin and Chris.
āI will question it.ā
The android stepped forwards and strode towards him, before making quick work of grasping his arm, skin peeling back, forcefully interfacing.
Connor felt his memories being dug through and he grit his teeth, a deep groan of pain building in the back of his throat. He tugged his arm away, before glancing to the side. Despite his cuffed hands, he could reach Gavinās gun which was right by his fingertips. He knew what he had to do. He pointed it upwards towards his chin. Fear. He was going to die.
He was scared.
He shot up with a gasp. His thirium pump was hammering in his chest, LED a vibrant red, and Sumo was standing at his side, whining and licking his arm. He wasā¦ it wasā¦
It was just a dream.
He brought a hand to his chest, trying to reorient himself. Just an unpleasant preconstruction, it wasnāt real, itā¦
But it was not without consequence. Clearly, heād made some loud sound, because before he knew it, Hank was striding into the room, saying something Connor couldnāt quite make out, and then he was standing in front of him, but he didnāt want to look. Didnāt want to be seen with cooling fluid spilling from his eyes (or tears, as Hank would beg him to call them), his face scrunched up in strong emotion, body trembling.
āConnor?ā
It was too late, he knew. Hank could already see him even if he was avoiding his gaze. Slowly, he looked up at him, mustering willpower to soften and smooth out his voice as he replied, āIām alright.ā
Hank stared back at him, before gesturing for him to move over on the chair. He did so, making space, Sumo coming to sit at his feet, still whining and desperate to lick at his face, eventually doing so, wiping the tears away with his slobbery tongue.
āBad dream?ā
Connor looked away again, down at his lap, Sumo now curled in a ball at his feet. Slowly, surely, he nodded.
āJust a dream.ā
He felt a warm hand on his back. Steady, grounding, there.
āWant to talk about it?ā
Connor shook his head. Heād rather forget about it entirely, if he could.
āAlright. Want to watch that nature documentary you had on last night?ā
He looked up at Hank, who was looking back at him, his face clear and calm, head tilted minutely in question.
āThe one with the sharks?ā
āYeah.ā
Connor nodded again. Hank took his hand away to reach for the remote off the coffee table, turning on the TV and finding the recording, before pressing play. Sound filled the room as the narrator began to talk about ocean life, and Hank settled back into the chair. He took a moment to get himself comfortable. This time he leant to the side a little, so that his shoulder was touching Connorās, but only gently, as if in question.
Let me protect you?
Connor mirrored his pose and felt the other man relax against him.
This was nice. He was scared, but he was safe. He was okay.
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Fandom: Magic Knight Rayearth
Rating: G (may change to T)
Length: 484 words; 1 of 6(?)
Characters: Presea & Clef; other non-ship pairs to follow.
Summary: a series of gen drabbles written for @genworkjune! various non-romantic Rayearth relationships set after MKR2, one for each chapter/prompt. I'll add characters/relationships as the chapters are published.
A/N: MKR is one of the few fandoms where I feel pretty comfortable writing anybody, so it was my pick of series for Gen Work June. (I know Presea/Clef is semi-canon but I always liked them better platonically close)
Decades ago, the Master Mage of Cephiro spent much of his time in prayer and service to the Pillar. His days were scheduled as full as he could fit with magic lessons and library teaching sessions of sacred texts. It was what he loved to do, in a system he did not love.
Now, that system was gone and his responsibilities had shifted. Clef now spent much of his time hunched over his desk, some papers stacked neatly and some scattered about. Brown rings from his teacups stained his desk, but he never cleaned them up. Ink darkened his small hands as he penned yet another reply to a foreign dignitary.
Presea watched him grumble and crumple up his paper, ink dribbled all over it. He tossed it in the bin and took a long, slow sigh before getting out a new piece of paper.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Horizon (Video Games)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Aloy (Horizon) & Original Male Character(s)
Characters: Fross van der Meer (Original Zenith Character), Aloy (Horizon), Original Male Character(s)
Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Physical Abuse, Violent Thoughts, Hatred, Suicide Threats, Psychological Trauma, Mental Breakdown, Family Issues, Memory Loss, Canon Past Character Death, Mentioned Elisabet Sobeck, Mentioned Tilda van der Meer, Gen Work June, Aloy Is Bad at Feelings (Horizon)
Hi and welcome to Gen Work June, a month intended to share some Gen Work
(Gen as in relationship category, not rating)
The Goal
To do something related to a gen work during June. There are some prompts below, you can write or draw or make something of any kind for one or however many you want of them. You can make something not related to one of them! You could make a rec list of some links to your favourite fics or artworks, you could share some old work of yours around again, you could just leave a comment on something you loved, you can set yourself a challenge, or you can keep it as easy as you like, it's down to you.
The Rules
Gen is something not focused on a romantic relationship so sticking to that is pretty much the only actual solid rule here. Whether you want to focus on platonic relationships, familial, character studies with no relationships brought up, or something else entirely, as long as the main focus of whatever you're doing isn't on a romantic relationship, it counts (though mentions of background romantic relationships that aren't a main focus are fine for this event).
And, to make it clear, the Gen is only referring to the lack of romantic relationship, you work doesn't have to fall into what would count as a "General Audiences" rating (or relevant equivalents). Appropriate tagging for anything else, image descriptions, and read mores for long posts are all appreciated, though there is some slack allowed for older posts being reblogged.
And if you do want things reblogged here, feel free to tag this blog, and there is an AO3 collection with the same name if you want to use that
The Prompts
(These are intended as jumping off points only- you can interpret them however you want and you don't have to use them, you could use one of the Past Prompts or you can come up with your own)
