Top Misconceptions People Have about Pulp-Era Science Fiction
A lot of people I run into have all kinds of misconceptions about what pulp-era scifi, from the 1920s-1950s, was actually like.
Science Fiction was about optimistic futures.”
Optimistic futures were always, always vastly outnumbered by end of the
world stories with mutants, Frankenstein creations that turn against us, murderous
robot rebellions, terrifying alien invasions, and atomic horror. People don’t change. Then as now, we were more interested in hearing about how it could all go wrong.
To quote H.L. Gold, editor of Galaxy Science Fiction, in 1952:
“Over 90% of stories submitted to Galaxy Science Fiction still nag away at atomic, hydrogen and bacteriological war, the post atomic world, reversion to barbarism, mutant children killed because they have only ten toes and fingers instead of twelve….the temptation is strong to write, ‘look, fellers, the end isn’t here yet.’”
movie Tomorrowland is a particulary egregious example of this tremendous
misconception (and I can’t believe Brad Bird passed on making Force Awakens to make a movie that was 90 minutes of driving through the Florida swamps). In reality, pre-1960s scifi novels trafficked in dread,
dystopian futures, and fear. There was simply never a time when optimistic scifi was overrepresented, even the boyish Jules Verne became skeptical of the possibilities of technology all the way at the turn of the century. One of the most famous pulp scifi yarns was
Jack Williamson’s The Humanoids, about a race of Borg-like robots who so
totally micromanage humans “for our own protection” that they leave us with
nothing to do but wait “with folded hands.”
scifi often featured muscular, large-chinned, womanizing main characters.”
the image often used in parodies of pulp scifi: the main character is a
big-chinned, ultra-muscular dope in tights who is a compulsive womanizer and talks
like Adam West in Batman. Whenever I see this, I think to myself…what exactly
is it they’re making fun of?
more normal than you think to find parodies of things that never actually
existed. Mystery buffs and historians, for example, can’t find a single
straight example of “the Butler did it.” It’s a thing people think is a thing
that was never a thing, and another example would be the idea of the “silent
film villain” in a mustache and top hat (which there are no straight examples
of, either). There are no non-parody examples of Superman changing in a phone
booth; he just never did this.
my favorite description of pulp mag era science fiction heroes is that they are
“wisecracking Anglo-Saxon engineers addicted to alcohol and tobacco who like
nothing better than to explain things to others that they already know.” The
average pulp scifi hero had speech patterns best described as “Mid-Century American Wiseass” than like Adam
West or the Lone Ranger.
nearest the Spaceman Spiff stereotype came to hitting the mark was with the
magazine heroes of the Lensmen and Captain Future, and they’re both nowhere near close. Captain Future was a
muscular hero with a chin, but he also had a Captain Picard level desire to use
diplomacy first, and believed that most encounters with aliens were only
hostile due to misunderstandings and lack of communication (and the story makes
him right). He also didn’t seem interested in women, mostly because he had
better things to do for the solar system and didn’t have the time for love. The Lensmen, on the other hand, had a ruthless, bloodthirsty streak, and were very much like the “murder machine” Brock Sampson (an attitude somewhat justified by the stakes in their struggle).
“Pulp Era Scifi were mainly action/adventure stories with good vs. evil.”
This is a half-truth, since, like so much other genre fiction, scifi has always been sugared up with fight scenes and chases. And there was a period, early in the century, when most scifi followed the Edgar Rice Burroughs model and were basically just Westerns or swashbucklers with different props, ray guns instead of six-shooters. But the key thing to remember is how weird so much of this scifi was, and that science fiction, starting in the mid-1930s, eventually became something other than just adventure stories with different trappings.
One of my favorite examples of this is A. Bertram Chandler’s story, “Giant-Killer.” The story is about rats on a starship who acquire intelligence due to proximity to the star drive’s radiation, and who set about killing the human crew one by one. Another great example is Eando Binder’s Adam Link stories, told from the point of view of a robot who is held responsible for the death of his creator.
What’s more, one of the best writers to come out of this era is best known for never having truly evil bad guys: Isaac Asimov. His “Caves of Steel,” published in 1953, had no true villains. The Spacers, who we assumed were snobs, only isolated themselves because they had no immunities to the germs of earth.
“Racism was endemic to the pulps.”
It is absolutely true that the pulps reflected the unconscious views of society as a whole at the time, but as typical of history, the reality was usually much more complex than our mental image of the era. For instance, overt racism was usually shown as villainous: in most exploration magazines like Adventure, you can typically play “spot the evil asshole we’re not supposed to like” by seeing who calls the people of India “dirty monkeys” (as in Harold Lamb).
Street & Smith, the largest of all of the pulp publishers, had a standing rule in the 1920s-1930s to never to use villains who were ethnic minorities because of the fear of spreading race hate by negative portrayals. In fact, in one known case, the villain of Resurrection Day was going to be a Japanese General, but the publisher demanded a revision and he was changed to an American criminal. Try to imagine if a modern-day TV network made a rule that minority groups were not to be depicted as gang bangers or drug dealers, for fear that this would create prejudice when people interact with minority groups in everyday life, and you can see how revolutionary this policy was. It’s a mistake to call this era very enlightened, but it’s also a mistake to say everyone born before 1970 was evil.
scifi writers in the early days were indifferent to scientific reality and
played fast and loose with science.”
is, by an order of magnitude, the
most false item on this list.
fact, you might say that early science fiction fandom were obsessed with
scientific accuracy to the point it was borderline anal retentive. Nearly every
single one of the lettercols in Astounding Science Fiction were nitpickers
fussing about scientific details. In fact, modern scifi fandom’s grudging
tolerance for storytelling necessities like sound in space at the movies, or novels that use
“hyperspace” are actually something of a step down from what the culture around
scifi was in the 1920s-1950s. Part of it was due to the fact that organized scifi fandom came out of science clubs; Hugo Gernsback created the first scifi pulp magazine as a way to sell electronics and radio equipment to hobbyists, and the “First Fandom” of the 1930s were science enthusiasts who talked science first and the fiction that speculated about it second.
In retrospect, a lot of it was just plain obvious
insecurity: in a new medium considered “kid’s stuff,” they wanted to show scifi
was plausible, relevant, and something different from “fairy tales.” It’s the same insecure mentality that leads video gamers to repeatedly ask if games are art. You’ve got nothing to prove there, guys, calm down (and take it from a pulp scifi aficionado, the most interesting things are always done in the period when a medium is considered disposable trash).
the best examples was the famous Howard P. Lovecraft, who published “The Shadow
out of Time” in the 1936 issue of Astounding. Even though it might be the only
thing from that issue that is even remotely reprinted today, the letters page
from this issue practically rose up in
revolt against this story as not being based on accurate science. Lovecraft
was never published in Astounding ever again.
ever wanted to find out what Star Wars would be like if they were bigger
hardasses about scientific plausibility, check out E.E. Smith’s Lensman series.
People expect a big, bold, brassy space opera series with heroes and villains
to play fast and loose, but it was shockingly scientifically grounded.
fair, science fiction was not a monolith on this. One of the earliest division
in science fiction was between the Astounding Science Fiction writers based in
New York, who often had engineering and scientific backgrounds and had
left-wing (in some cases, literally Communist) politics, and the Amazing
Stories writers based in the Midwest, who were usually self taught, and had
right-wing, heartland politics. Because the Midwestern writers in Amazing
Stories were often self-taught, they had a huge authority problem with science
and played as fast and loose as you could get. While this is true, it’s worth
noting science fiction fandom absolutely turned on Amazing Stories for this,
especially when the writers started dabbling with spiritualism and other
weirdness like the Shaver Mystery. And to this day, it’s impossible to find many Amazing Stories tales
Considering that I have been vocalabout queer rep for this fandom, I wanted to discuss the four queer characters that we got in ACOWAR and go through the good and the bad for each. Please note that, especially in regards to Mor, I approach this from a representation standpoint, how the way queer characters and queer identities are discussed in relation to how queer readers will interpret them. Trying to discuss queer identities and characters from the character’s perspective would make this monster even longer than it already is, and I would prefer to leave those discussions to those from more abusive/homophobic backgrounds than my (healthy, more heteronormative than homophobic) background. @illyrianazriel has been discussing this pretty consistently, and I highly recommend this post in particular for a discussion of Mor’s queer identity as a character. Finally, please realize that I am only one person, and while I have tried to take into account the opinions of others I have talked to, it is impossible for one bisexual to speak for all bi/gay/pan people. This post is meant to be part of the discussion of queer rep, and I welcome other queer people adding your thoughts and opinions. (If you’re straight, please make sure that all engagement is respectful.)
I didn’t really have any issues with Nephelle or Thesan. They were both highly respected, in loving same sex relationships. Nephelle in particular was viewed as a hero, an idol, whose actions are meant to be emulated and upheld by both the heroes and the reader. My only issue with either of them was the use of “lover,” particularly in the case of Thesan. I find “lover” to have a very sexual connotation which is uncomfortable when queer people are so often simplified to just what they do in bed. I realize that “lover” was also used in regards to straight relationships, but because of the sex-obsessed view of queer people, it still makes me feel uncomfortable. Though Nephelle’s “lover” eventually becomes “wife,” I was uncomfortable that Thesan’s “lover” isn’t referred to even as “partner,” which takes away the solely sexual connotation. They mentioned that their relationship was ignored UtM for what Amarantha would do to him, and so it is understandable then that he isn’t “consort” or “husband” yet, but in the spin offs that are after ACOWAR, if he’s brought up in that, I hope that one of those other terms will be used. Additionally, it bothers me that in the ACOTAR universe, there is still no mention of same sex mates. The mating bond in this world is very heteronormative, but it would be awful for SJM to make a world in which all Soulmates who experience True Love are heterosexual. If anyone has any additional information from something she said on tour, etc., please hit me up.
While I (and many others) adored Helion, he very very narrowly escapes the “slutty bisexual” trope. Even our first contact with him in ACOWAR, the letter he sends accepting the invitation to the High Lord meeting–what should be solely professional correspondence–is said to be readable “between all the innuendo,” (293). Though he is mostly professional in the meeting itself, it isn’t long when meeting personally–without the “’swagging prick performance’” (450)–that he brings up sex. His sexuality is described to Feyre by Rhys as “Helion favors both males and females. Usually together in his bed” (450-451). While this alone would be enough to make him part of this negative trope, I believe it is avoided for a mix of four reasons. First of all, there are multiple other queer people in this book who are not viewed negatively (as above, with Nephelle and Thesan). Secondly, his sexuality, while joked about, isn’t insulted and is treated in a similar fashion as the jokes made about Cassian’s sex life in ACOMAF (this isn’t really possible to prove, per say, but it personally read as similar teasing to me). Thirdly, we are given proof of him being in love with, of having feeling and emotion for, a single person. It would have or could have been a true monogamous relationship if it was up to Helion, but the Lady of Autumn “’chose to stay’” (455). This removes part of this trope by showing that bisexuals can have romantic feelings for people and care about things other than sex. Finally, Helion is highly respected in the narrative/by the readers, perhaps only second to Rhys. This is shown multiple times. During the meeting of the High Lords, it is said that only three of the current High Lords were present for the last war against Hybern, being Beron, Rhys, and Helion (436). This in of itself sets Helion equal to Rhys in terms of experience, knowledge, and (at least political, if not magical) power. After the meeting, it is written in the narrative that “[Helion’s] muscled body was only a mask–-to hide the cunning mind beneath. I wondered if Rhys had picked that up from him” (452). Our Hero has this same trait–-a trait that the readers love him for–-and he learned it from Helion. Helion taught things to the Hero. I think that speaks for itself. Additionally, Helion is treated as a friend, invited to have dinner with the Night Court, as Kallias and Vivane are (459). Very specific battle plans are discussed between the Night Court and him, and he is intelligent and largely professional at the meetings. Then, in the final battle, it is said that “If Rhys[’s beast form] was a flying terror crafted from shadows and old moonlight, Helion was his daytime equivalent…. Together, my mate and the High Lord of Day unleashed themselves upon Hybern” (645-646). Once again, Helion is set as an equal to our Hero. Once again, this speaks for itself. Now, with all four of these factors at play, I would say that Helion avoids the damaging “slutty bisexual” trope. If one of these four were removed, I would argue he falls into that trope. As such, fandom should make sure that in the way we talk about Helion in the future does not remove the respect and complexity canon gives him. (I personally haven’t really seen anything that has made me uncomfortable yet, but if I do see an issue, I will call that person out on it.)
Now, on to Mor, by far the most controversial of the group. Her sexuality is told to Feyre as “I do find pleasure […] in both…. But I’ve known, since I was little more than a child, that I prefer females. That I’m… attracted more to them over males. That I connect with them, care for them on that soul-deep level” (589). I know there is currently a debate going on in the fandom over whether she is gay or bisexual, but I would like to say that this reads as bisexual to me. In fact, this is the only part of Mor’s queerness that I thought was well done: I, along with many other bisexuals I’ve talked to, identified with this description of her sexuality. I know that this is how I feel about my own attraction, and past that, it can be appreciated that there is a bisexual in media who is not viewed as “50/50″ like so many are, that can like both while still having a preference one way or another. Obviously this is a discussion that should be had among the bi and gay girls in this fandom but: people have called her lesbian. People have called her bisexual homoromantic. For the number of self-identifying bisexual women in this fandom who have said their attraction matches what is described here, I would call her bisexual. Though there are people who find the split between romantic and sexual orientations helpful, and there are bisexual homoromantic women in this fandom who identify with Mor’s description of her sexuality, I think that calling her bisexual homoromantic ignores the fluidity of sexuality that many bisexuals (myself included) feel. The discussion of labels is something that the fandom should continue to have, but in the fandom, if you are not bi/pan/gay, tread carefully when trying to name her sexuality.
That description was the only good thing about Mor’s coming out. Everything else was, as my gay friend and I said while discussing it, A Heterosexual Mess.
The scene starts off with Mor deciding to tell Feyre because Feyre got angry at her and Mor felt bad. That’s gross. No one should have to come out because their friend was shitty to them. No one should have to come out as a form of apology. No one should be coerced into coming out. And this might be a nitpick, but there is a line from this moment: “[Feyre] reached for [Mor’s] hand, prying it off her arm” (589). I know this was meant to be comforting, but a light caress on her hand to see if Mor was okay taking it would be a lot better than a straight person trying to force comfort on a queer person because They Are Understanding and Accepting. Later on in the scene, Feyre specifically says, and Mor agrees, that “’Rhys wouldn’t care–I don’t think anyone in Velaris would’” (592). But Mor continues to stay in the closet for the sake of Azriel’s happiness. All of these things put straight comfort and happiness over queer health. All of these things make it seem as if queer people owe something to straight people. And we don’t.
And then, at the end of the scene, Feyre says to Mor,
“I’ll stand by you no matter what. Until then… Your secret is safe. I won’t tell anyone–even Rhys.” “Thank you,” [Mor] breathed. I [Feyre] shook my head. “No–thank you for telling me. I’m honored.” (592)
A queer person thanks a straight person for not outing her, which would negatively impact at the very least her mental health and relationships, if not her authority and power over her past abusers. The straight person replies that she is “honored.” Honored for what? That her friend has been hiding herself because of a homophobic society for 500 years and can only admit who she is to someone she’s known a matter of months? (I know some people find it easier to talk about these things with people they know less rather than more, but it shouldn’t be a big enough deal for Mor to be scared about it in the first place.) Honored that straight people have to be told that people they know are queer because otherwise they’ll assume everyone is straight? Coming out is not “honoring” someone. It’s telling someone, anyone that you trust to not hurt you, something about yourself. Coming out is a product of a heteronormative society.
The fact that Mor has been hiding it for five hundred years is also disgusting. Considering that Helion’s, Thesan’s, and Nephelle’s queerness are all accepted, this would suggest then that the Night Court is homophobic while other courts/societies are not. There is no reason to make any place in fantasy homophobic. If you can write about a bunch of hot people with endless magic, you can write about a society where homophobia doesn’t exist. I was reading another meta about Mor earlier today by @my-name-is-fireheart, where she says that, with the Court of Nightmares being what they’re being, they would have made Mor’s life worse for her being queer. I don’t disagree. But then she says:
Realistically, I don’t know how Maas could have avoided Mor’s painful backstory given what we know of her family. The only answer is that Maas could have written Mor as out from the beginning, and…then what? Had the court of nightmares, in all its patriarchal glory, be okay with her as bi? Be fine with her preferring females? Be happy with a daughter who was LGBT? Sure that is all wonderful but…not realistic given who Keir is. So…the only way to really change Mor’s backstory is to change who her family is.
Yes, she could have written Mor as out from the beginning. She doesn’t need to change her family to do this. I’m not suggesting that Mor come out to her family while they still had physical power over her, but once she was in the Court of Dreams, she very well could have. It would just add another layer of hatred and resentment from her family towards her, her power over them, and her freeing herself from them. Also, you can come out to one group of people and not another. She could be out and free to the Court of Dreams, Velaris, and Prythian and not out to the Court of Nightmares. How would they find out? It’s not like she’s going to bring anyone she’s dating with her on her job (not until “dating” becomes “possibly engaged” or “married/mated” at least). Would she sit on the throne and make a proclamation of her sexuality? Maybe I’m the outlier in this community, but that’s certainly not how I did it.
And I know, I know that coming out is hard. And that, as Mor says, you want to keep people from “shaming me, hurting me about this one thing that has remained wholly mine” (590). But by doing that, you are still putting fear above happiness. You are still putting straight comfort over queer health. And I really wouldn’t want a young version of me seeing this rep and doing that. Because I did it for a long, long while, and it nearly destroyed me. I don’t want it destroying another young queer girl, just coming into her sexuality. The scars and the pain of being queer fade generation to generation, but I will do everything in my power to end that pain altogether.And that means starting here, making sure that the media that failed me does not fail others.
With everything, I fully expect one of the spinoffs to be about Mor, her coming out to everyone, and her finding happy queer love. With all the pain Mor has gone through, she cannot pushed to a subplot as part of one of the other books–or worse, be pushed to the side to make room for a heterosexual ship. (And honestly, if this scene is gone back on and she ends up with Azriel, I will throw a fit. Because all that says is, “if you try hard enough, you can be happy with a man!” which is even worse than not having this at all.) If you are going to spotlight a queer character’s pain, you need to spotlight their happiness as while. And for future books and future queer narratives, the best way to prevent this would be to create a world in which homophobia does not exist, or doesn’t exist enough to force a queer character to stay in the closet. Becausewhile coming out is a product of a heteronormative society, queer pain is a product of a homophobic society. Queer people aren’t tortured about their sexuality because of their sexuality, but because of how others view it. Yes, homophobia is something that needs to be worked through, but as a straight author writing about writing narratives of queer pain and homophobic societies in a fantasy book, you are perpetuating the very thing we are working to get rid of. You are contributing to the problem, instead of helping to fix it. And you are the one who is going to have to look yourself in the mirror every day and determine if you can live with that.
*All page numbers taken from the US Target edition hardback.
King of the Road by LoversAntiquities Rating: NC-17 Word count: 15,900 Summary: Contracted out by the local police in Moriarty, New Mexico, Dean is sent to investigate the happenings around a church outside of town, the Angel-worshiping congregation reportedly flocking to the location in recent days. As it turns out, though, instead of snake charmers or devil worshipers, Dean finds an Angel crucified to the cross, said Angel unreasonably snarky despite being tied up against his will. Turning over Castiel to the authorities, though, doesn’t work in Dean’s favor. With nowhere to go and Heaven having abandoned him, Dean agrees to haul Castiel across the country on two conditions–he doesn’t smoke in the car, and he doesn’t rob convenience stores in broad daylight. God, Dean might actually kill him before this is over.
This fic was a great read. Though it is fairly short the writer managed to paint an amazing, tangible world. I found the writing style to be very satisfying with great imagery, awesome character voices, and a consistent feeling for the overall fic. The writer’s characterizations were incredibly enjoyable, especially the way they chose to write Cas. I found myself laughing out loud at a few points due to his snark and poor decision-making skills. Dean was very endearing as well. His character was solid and even though we plopped right into the middle of his life with this fic, his backstory was cleverly weaved into the narrative. Their relationship was also a huge selling point for this fic. It had a perfect balance of intimacy, snark, and love. The only thing I wish would have been different was the length. I could easily have read thousands and thousands of words in this verse.
Cassian wakes slowly, wrapped in softness but with a dull ache in his back—in his wings-
Strong, gentle hands press against his shoulders, forcing him back against the linens. He would fight against it, but he knows this touch, just as he knows those hazel eyes, that beautiful face about him.
“Azriel,” he says, voice weak. “You’re okay.”
Azriel nods, allowing himself the smallest of smiles. Happiness is always an allowance for him, a privilege he rarely indulges. It’s been five hundred years, and Cassian still hasn’t convinced him that his happiness should be celebrated, that he should give smiles like sundrops and laugh like rain, if that is how he feels.
“You’re healed?” Cassian asks. “Completely?”
Cassian is laying against the pillows now, but Azriel’s hands have not moved from his shoulders. One of his thumbs reaches up, brushes a caress against Cassian’s jaw. “Completely.”
They are silent for a moment, Cassian reorienting himself, Azriel pulling back to watch as he does. They are in Cassian’s room, gauzy inner curtains thrown over the windows to allow in a breeze and just enough light to see by. Azriel is sitting beside him on the hard wooden chair he normally uses to lace up his boots in the morning. His typical burgundy sheets are replaced by white, Cassian notices, and stupidly hopes they weren’t ruined with his blood—they had been his favorite set. Finally, painfully, he turns his head enough to see his wings: bound to the headboard, and wrapped entirely in white bandages and gauze. The only part of them he can see are the talons.
“How long was I out?” Cassian asks, voice cracking from the dryness in his throat.
Azriel pours a glass of water from a pitcher resting on the bedside table. “About two weeks.” At Cassian’s shocked expression, he explains, “The healers wanted to keep you out long enough for your wings to stabilize. The less movement, the better. They only stopped giving you the sleeping draught last night.”
Azriel puts a hand under Cassian’s back, supporting him enough for Cassian to take a few sips of the water. Half of it spills down his front, but neither of them mention it.
Still sitting up, Cassian asks “Will they… will my wings…”
Azriel doesn’t look at him as he says, “The healers say they will heal. You’ll have to work back up to your previous strength, but you should be able to fly again.” His voice deepens, takes on that intensity Cassian recognizes as a promise. “You will fly again.”
It is silent for a moment. When Azriel speaks, it is quiet, but all the intensity is gone, and only sadness remains. “You shouldn’t have done it in the first place.”
Cassian wants to explain himself, wants to take Azriel’s self-hatred and throw it into the sea. Bracing one hand on the mattress, he lifts the other and cups Azriel’s cheek. Softly, he says, “you have to know it was all for you.”
Azriel shakes his head slowly in disbelief, but doesn’t pull away from his touch.
“Azriel.” Cassian waits until he meets his eyes. Slowly, without looking away, he says, “it was all for you.”
They had been something, once. They had always said it was only physical. But when they were finally close enough to say the words, Mor had walked in, and everything they could have been had fallen away.
But here, now, Cassian tilts his face up and lets his eyes slide closed. Azriel leans over, and their lips brush.
Somewhere in the house waits the girl that Azriel has loved since first sight. Something in Cassian’s chest still tugs him towards the newly Made Fae. But for now, in the half-light of the sun through the window, Azriel and Cassian kiss, and that is enough.
With the help of high-speed cameras, CT scanners and some nail-art supplies, scientists in Japan have managed to catch a glimpse of the elaborate way that ladybugs fold their wings to tuck them away.
The research could have implications for everything from aeronautics to umbrellas.
The study, published this week in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, explored how ladybugs can have wings strong enough to fly with, but quickly collapsible so they can be tucked out of the way.
The wings, after all, are much larger than the black-spotted wing cases they fold down to fit inside — as is immediately obvious easy to see if you just watch a video of the wings unfolding.
But the researchers at the University of Tokyo explain that no one knew how the ladybugs put the wings away, since they actually shut the wing cases first — then pull the wings inside. The interesting action is tucked out of sight.
so i need more sam and natasha interactions. because lord knows they’re both pigeonholed into the “therapist friend” and “femme fatale” respectively and i just think they could be so good
like, even just watching bad spy movies and sam groaning every time natasha points out an inaccuracy, or natasha having to physically pull sam away when steve and bucky start the age old “army versus air force” debate. or them trying to one up each other with bad spots they’ve been dropped into with hardly any warning or preparation.
sam: yeah the brass sent me into kazakhstan under heavy fire, trying to get out four of our guys. we were bottenecked for almost three days before i could fly them out of there. top that miss russian spy.
natasha: that’s cute, sammy, but try having your own government burn you in hostile territory. that’s always a good time and little miss russian spy doesn’t have fuckin wings in case of an emergency. in my book, that’s cheating. now shut up and let me tell you why tom cruise wouldn’t last four seconds in the KGB
sam: *muttering* who knew i would miss kazakhstan
and that’s how clint walked in to see his terrifying assassin girlfriend upturn a popcorn bowl over sam wilson’s head
List 67, #8. Could someone please write an fpreg where the reader’s (or
the one getting pregnant’s) lover is a half-snake woman? Like, woman on
top, snake from the waist down? Not sure how it’d work, but this would
(oh anon, you had me at “snake woman”…hope u don’t mind it’s in multiple chapters!!)
in the city was pretty tough. With it’s little parking space, traffic,
and high rent, it wasn’t easy getting by unless you were fairly
successful and held a decent job. Unfortunately, like most people, you
weren’t. As a young, budding artist, you just barely scraped by living
with 4 people in what was really a 2 person apartment. Rent was lower
that way, but you couldn’t handle the lack of privacy and space. You
knew you needed to move, and fast.
Fortunately, you were in luck.
While it wasn’t the most artistic job in the world, you found out
through an ad in a newspaper about a job in a nearby apartment complex.
The complex was specifically for human mutants, and in order to make it
as accessible as possible, many occupants needed maids or servants to
accompany them and tend to their needs. You were basically being paid to
be someone else’s shadow, but many mutants lived in luxury, and the job
paid well. There was also the added bonus of getting to live with only
one other person, so you applied almost immediately, hoping for some
merciful occupant to take you in.
To your surprise, it was only
about a week until you heard a response. With your background checks
cleared and your application reviewed, the landlord of the complex
approved you to come in and be a part of their weekly “companion meet
and greet”, where you’d sit at a table and occupants would talk to you
to see if you were right for them. It was a little nerve wracking, but
you knew you’d be just fine…as long as someone decided to take you in.
meet and greet had been planned just a few days after you received your
email. Upon entering, you noticed a way more mutants than there were
average humans. Before you could really take a good look at the crowd, a
woman dressed in a formal pantsuit came over to you. She looked
relatively normal, save for the fact that her eyes were all white.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Violet B567. I’m the landlord of this apartment complex, you are?”
“U-uh, I’m Darla, but you can just call me Danny. It sounds less…pretentious.“
laughs a little, revealing sharp teeth. “Ah, I was hoping you’d show. I
think there are quite a few tenants who’d like to meet you.” She
replies, leading you to your table. After making you sign an agreement
contract, she went over to where a microphone resided and announced that
the residents could finally go and browse around.
human, there were about 5 mutants to match them. You couldn’t help but
feel overwhelmed as tenants met with you, some more human than others.
Many approached you sporting fins, multiple pairs of tails or wings, and
in one case, frog legs, but only one out of them all interested you.
woman with deep chocolate colored hair and amber eyes approached you,
first looking over your paper resume you had laid out before she decided
to make eye contact with you, giving you a smile.
“Your name is…Darla?”
“Yes, though Danny is prefered.” You reply, trying to sound polite. “And you?”
“Victoria L084, very nice to meet you.” She says, putting her hand out
for you to shake. You were just about to go out and grab it when she
suddenly recoils and let out an inhuman hiss, turning away from you.
It was at this moment you realized she was half snake. How the hell did you not notice that?
Her lower half was grey in color with brown markings, coiled just
before the table. It seems however that she’d left a little bit of her
tail sticking out and some poor soul with had accidentally stepped on it
with his hooves.
“Excuse me, that’s my tail you’re standing on.”
She calls, an edge in her voice. The man almost immediately hops off,
the deer-like ears on his head folding back,
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to step on it.”
She huffs, puffing herself up in a defensive manner. “Yeah, I’m sure. Maybe watch where you’re going next time?”
“I-I-I…” The poor guy looked scared to death, but then again, you probably would be too if you had a snake-woman scolding you.
“I’m sure he just didn’t see you, your tail is pretty low to the ground
and he’s tall.” You interrupt, trying to diffuse the fight. “Plus…he
probably can’t see very well with his eyes shaped the way the are.”
She turns to you, looking serious, “How did you know that?”
“His pupils are horizontally slotted, so I guess….he’d be more in tune
with seeing things from afar? I studied deer for a commission a while
“Yes! Yes, that’s right. I-I dropped my glasses and broke
them the other day, so I can’t really see things up close until my new
ones ship in…” The man claims, looking ready to run away.
Victoria hums contemplatively, before finally relaxing. “Alright, ok, you can go. Just be careful, please.”
“O-o-of course! No problem! Bye!” He replied, nodding his head and
bolting away. Yeesh, you’d never seen anyone run away that fast before.
“Sorry about that.” Victoria apologizes, turning back to you. “I hate
when people touch my tail. My anger gets the best of me sometimes.”
You shrug, “I can get that, I guess. I wouldn’t like my tail touched if I had one either, much less stepped on.”
“Exactly! Some people think they can just walk right up and touch my
tail. Sorry, I’m not a traveling petting zoo, at least ask before
touching.” She exclaims, crossing her arms. “Say, how much do you know
“A little. I did some studies on them when
freelancing for a magazine that specifically published for mutants, but I
still have a lot to learn.”
“Well, the only way you’re going to learn is by observing. Has anyone else decided to employ you?”
You shake your head, “No, or else I would’ve packed up and left.”
“Perfect! Then, you can stay with me.” She smiles, taking a slip of
paper from her pocket and writing down her number on it. “Text me and we
can work out a salary through Violet and your moving day, sound good?”
“Uh, yeah, sounds good.” You stutter, taking the paper. She decided,
just like that? You thought there would be more effort involved in
“Great, I’ll hear from you soon, then!” Victoria says, leaving your table. “Bye for now!”
You blink, feeling a bit flustered. “Oh, uh, bye.”
This was going to be quite the job, wasn’t it?
You were right. To call it “quite the job” was an understatement. While
Victoria wasn’t nearly as mean as she showed during the meet and greet,
her life was VERY different than yours. Dedicated to science, she made
her money studying threatening diseases in animals. She was a leading
researcher due to her natural talent with predatory animals, and was
known throughout her field. Being an art nerd, you wouldn’t know a thing
about animal husbandry, but after spending a few months in her home,
you got to know a thing or two.
First off, she had a very strict
diet of rodent, chicken, and occasionally lamb. Due to her serpentine
body, her diet was limited to just meats, as anything else could make
her sick. Her diet was so strict, in fact, she bought a mini-fridge just
for you in your room so your groceries wouldn’t touch. You thought it
was unnecessary, but hey, you weren’t complaining.
Second of all,
because she was away from home due to work so much, you were basically
there to make sure nobody broke in as well as to clean up the dust that
settles on unused furniture. Literally every piece of furniture was
tailored to work with her body, so they were pretty hard for you to
clean. She had suspended ropes and beams she could drape herself from,
extra large couches to fit her coils, and her bed was literally a
glorified tent to mimic a burrow. You never really used her furniture
much, unless she invited you too, so quite literally you had to dust
everything in her apartment.
And finally, you were also there to
assist her in communicating with other researchers when she couldn’t.
Every once and awhile, she gave you her computer and told you to reply
with any emails with a script explaining she was away. You had no idea
what she was doing, but you just assumed she was going into a
mini-hibernation of sorts. It wasn’t until about a year after you
started living with her did you realize you were wrong…so, so wrong.
“Danny? Are you there?” You heard Victoria call, her voice slightly urgent.
Peaking your head out of your room, you frowned as you called back. “Yeah, do you need me?”
“Uhm, maybe, quickly. Please.”
didn’t sound good. You found yourself in her room in under 3 seconds,
only to find her in her tent-bed, looking slightly uncomfortable.
“I need you to take my computer…my cycle..it started early,”
“Sure, no problem, but your cycle for…what?” You replied, fretting a little. “You don’t get periods.”
She nods, going a bit red in the face. “Kind of…I just..no, it’s embarrassing to talk about. Just take my computer.”
you…sure?” You asked, bending to her level. “I know it’s none of my
business, but if I knew, maybe I could help. That’s what I’m here for.”
just…fuck, ok, every once and a while I get pseudo-periods, but I don’t
bleed, I…lay eggs, or at least my body wants me to. Typically mutants
like me just lay them like normal and get over it, but I have lay in
something, because that’s how the scientists built me. It’s painful not
too, so I usually wait until my body absorbs the eggs back in and moves
Damn. That was a lot to take in.
“So…you’re in pain?”
Hesitant, she nods, biting her lip.
sigh, straightening up. “Well, I have no idea if this will work, but I
have some heat pads in my room, and if you’re cramping, I could always
try to massage them away.”
She looked bewildered, “You can do that?”
of course. It’s not like you haven’t made me to strange shit before.”
You replied, smirking a little. “Remember once you made me get a piece
of stuck shed off your tail because you couldn’t?”
You laughed a
little as she turned bright red, “Well I’m sorry that the scientists who
made me made my arms too short for me to reach parts of my tail! It
wasn’t humid enough for all of it to off at once!”
“Right, right.” You chided, rolling your eyes, “Whatever you say. I’ll be right back.”
Grabbing your heat pad from your room, you also grab some aspirin and
water, just in case. Coming back, you notice Victoria has modified her
tent-bed to make it just the slightest bit bigger. Did she…want you to
go into there?
“I brought asprin, do you want it?”
She shook her head, “No, it’ll make me sick. I will take the water, though.”
Handing it over, you plugged the heat pad in let it warm up before sliding it into her tent.
“Just put that wherever you want, but I recommend to put it where you’re cramping.
you watch as she puts the pad under where her hips end and her tail
begins. For some reason, watching her makes you feel odd, so you pull
your eyes away and busy yourself with putting the aspirin on a nearby
“So how does the massaging work?” She asks, lying on her side.
can’t imagine your muscles would be super different than mine in the
abdomen area, or near your hips, so I’d basically be kneading them and
have pressure on them until your muscles stop killing you.”
“Not sure if that’ll work, seeing as the pain comes from, um…actually, nevermind, go ahead and try it. It’s worth a shot.”
raise an eyebrow at her, wondering what she would’ve said had she not
cut herself off, but you don’t push it. “Ok, first, you have to come out
here so I can massage you.”
“Oh! No, you can just come in here.
That’s why I made room for you.” Victoria replies, shifting to give you
more than enough room. Hesitant, you climb in, feeling far less
claustrophobic than you were expecting to feel. It was actually pretty
“Huh, it’s warm in here.”
it has to be. I really don’t like blankets unless I need to use them.”
She explains, shrugging. “So what do you want me to do?”
should…uh…” Positioning was going to be a toughie, wasn’t it? “Lay on
your stomach. I think I can reach you the best that way without having
to sit on your tail.”
She hummed, complying with your command.
Gently, you lifted up her shirt ever so slightly and began to work your
fingers not only on her sides, but also through her lower back. She
practically melted with satisfaction.
“Is this helping?”
“Hm…no, not with the cramps, but it’s a very effective distraction.” She replies, muffled by her arms.
guess that’s good, but I’d actually like to help you get rid of your
pain so you can get back to work.” You say, thinking out loud a little.
“Can you think of anything else that might work?”
You could feel her tense under your fingers, “Ah, no. Nothing you could do, I’m sure.”
“What do you mean?”
She sits up, moving her away from you. “The only time I was truly able
to get rid of the pain was when I had a girlfriend. She and
I…um..remember when I said I could only lay in things?”
“Yeah? I don’t see- ooooh.” Now it all made sense.
She needed someone to lay her eggs in. She needed to have sex to actually get rid of the pain.
oh.” Victoria said, not making eye contact. “I don’t think you’d want
to do that, it’s really unnatural for some and even if it wasn’t,
Despite your consciousness telling you not to do so, you cut her off. “I’d probably be ok with it.”
She looked at you with wide eyes. “What?”
“I-I mean…” Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. What were you doing? “I’m not against it, it doesn’t seem bad. If you’re ok with it, that is.”
She gave you a stern, serious look, not unlike the one she gave you when you first met. “You’re completely serious about this?”
out a bit of a nervous laugh, you bring your hand to the back of your
neck. “I-I can’t say it was a joke, but if you don’t want to, we can
always forget about it and I can just take the computer and leave.”
Silent, she seems to think deeply about your offer. It takes everything
you have to not bolt out of the tent and lock yourself in your room,
but after what seems like centuries, she speaks up.
“I think I’d be fine. Just don’t tell Violet, it might void our contract. I’ll have to find out later.”
Oh shit, she was actually on board. “A-alright, agreed.”
After a second of hesitance, she moves up to you, looking you up and
down once before finally putting a hand under your chin and bringing you
into a kiss. You hadn’t kissed anyone in so long, you felt a small
voice in the back of your head yell about your own self consciousness,
but it was quickly quashed when you felt your back hit soft pillows, her
hands roaming up your shirt.
“Can I take this off of you?” She asks, her voice holding a sort of tone you’d never expect to hear from her.
“Sure, it’s all yours.” You reply, trying to be causal but dimly
realizing what those words imply. God, is there a moment you couldn’t be
Victoria really didn’t seem to mind, though. Taking off your shirt, she blinks a little as she looks at you, mistified.
You let out a little laugh, amused by her thought. “Uh, yeah? People have those.”
Now it was your turn to blink. “Oh?”
Nodding, she took off her own shirt (or was it a dress? You could never
tell, seeing as she can’t wear any sort of bottoms, ever.) and gestured
towards her own chest. It was as flat as a cutting board.
“I guess that makes sense, seeing as…you don’t really need boobs with eggs and all.”
She shrugs, taking a quick glance towards your own before tearing her eyes away. “True, but I always thought they looked nice.”
You hummed, blushing a little when you realize it was a compliment. “I’ll take this off then, let you have a better look.”
Unclipping your bra, you let yourself relish as she turned a bit redder than she already was.
thanks.” She replied, her voice small. She was always so decisive and
confident, you couldn’t help but feel a little amused by the fact she
couldn’t seem to decide if she wanted to stare or not. Looks like you
were going to have to make the decision for her.
Taking her hand,
you led her hand to your chest, letting a smile play onto your lips.
“I’m surprised you’re blushing this hard, you’ve had a girlfriend
Realizing she had permission to touch you, she curiously felt you in her hands. “Yeah, but she was also a mutant, so…”
that made sense. You couldn’t help but shiver when her thumb brushed
over your nipple, slightly ashamed of the fact that you could feel heat
pooling near your thighs.
“How sensitive are you there?” She asks, continuing to make slow circles around your nipple with her thumb.
You replied, feeling yourself relax a little. Not satisfied yet, she
slowly drags her hands down your body and rests them just above your
hips, realizing there was one more blockade in the way.
“Do you want to-” “Yes.”
by your answer, she seems more than happy to unbutton your jeans and
throw them aside, leaving you only in your underwear. You are so glad
you wore your good pair today.
“Oh, they’re wet.” She noted,
taking a hand and feeling the front. You took a small breath in, your
body flinching with being touched the slightest bit. “That’s normal?”
You nod, “Normal.”
with your answer, she fiddles with the front of your underwear a little
more before delicately taking them off, exposing you.
thought you’d grow hair down here either…” Victoria says, more curious
than anything. “Maybe I should stop studying predators and start
studying humans. This is far more interesting.”
“You think?” You
reply, a little embarrassed by her commentary. It wasn’t bad, but you’d
never been looked at so closely before…not by anyone other than a
doctor, that is. You really jumped when she placed her and against you,
fingers separating the lips of your pussy and exploring. Your hands shot
to your face as you let out a little noise, making her look at you.
“Is this ok?”
“M-mhm. I just…jeez, this is new.”
the both of us.” Victoria replies. Her hands aren’t doing much except
explore until her fingers run across your clit. The noise that you make
in response is obscene.
“Oh? Is this also sensitive?” She asks,
using her fingers to tease it. You can’t reply, covering your mouth to
muffle your moans and whines while trying (and failing) to resist the
urge to buck up into her hand.
A sly grin shows up on her face, practically drinking up your reaction. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
it’s- oooOooh shit ok that’s happening.” You protest, only to feel her
slip a finger inside you. “Ok, cool, that’s my- oh god.”
what it is, don’t worry. I learned that much in school, and from the
internet.” She says, quickly finding your g-spot and rubbing it. “Who do
you take me for?”
Your mind is going a bit too fuzzy to
form a reply, enjoying her fingers way too much. When she adds a third,
you can’t stop yourself from coming right then and there. It had been a
while, so it was no surprise you only lasted a short while.
Victoria didn’t seem to really care. “I think that’s enough, don’t you?”
“Enough for…” You breathe, a little tired from it all. “Oh.”
right near your entrance, her ovipositor waits for your permission to
move inside you. It was long, and reddish in color, and it kind of
scared you but…it also excited you. You had no idea what this would feel
“Right.” She nods, and
gently brings herself in. She feels way thicker than she looks, and your
breath hitches a little when you feel her tail wrap around your leg
“You’re feeling ok?” She asks, her voice a little breathy.
“Mhm, it’s fine.” That was an understatement. “You can start…um..”
didn’t need you to say it out loud. Pinning you down gently, she begins
to thrust in and out of you. It’s slow, but your body soon gives in to
her size and allows her to move faster. Between your own natural body
fluids and the ones she was creating, you were slick enough to move at a
steady pace while still feeling the friction of her ovipositor rubbing
against your g-spot. You were so close to your peak, the noises you made
were loud enough to make covering them up futile. She was fucking you
so hard you could feel yourself displacing the pillows nearby. This was
too good to be real.
Then again, she was a mutant, what were you expecting?
around her, you felt your vision go white as your orgasm hit you. You
were only dimly aware of the fact that she wasn’t finished with you yet
as you came down from your high, her pace beginning to become messy as
she approached her own peak. Coming deep in you, you could feel
something fill you up, heavy and thick. When she pulled out, you could
just see a small trail of come follow her ovipositor until she
resheathed herself, as if it had never been there at all.
you breathing hard, she takes the time to quickly rearrange the pillows
before moving you to a more comfortable spot and laying beside you. Her
tail had not yet let go of your leg, but you didn’t particularly mind.
“So…feeling better?” You ask, exhaustion settling in.
A laugh bubbles on her lips, “Yes, definitely. Thank you.”
not a problem.” You replied, finally letting yourself drift off to
sleep. Last thing you can recall is the dull feeling of Victoria
bringing you close to her, her arm wrapped around you.
yall! you can call me O if you’ve never seen any of my submissions
before. next chapter will involve egg laying, so this isn’t the end of
the story! but until the next chapter is posted, feel free to read any
of my other stuff @or-beez . thanks!)
Hi um.... How do the faeformers look? I've been wondering for a while but didn't know if it was ok to ask.
I tend to picture most of them as very alien/monstrous looking, with a few that happen to look more like humans (though any of them can appear human if they wish). So here we have Optimus, Elita and Starscream who are all faeformer court rulers (hence the crowns). And over on the right are Tarn, Knock Out, Breakdown, and Arcee. I might tweak some of these designs later on, but you get the general idea.
@reioka I thought this might be relevant to your interests :P
I actually didn’t think much of it to begin with, but while drawing I came up with this entire background story that I will not write into fic now because I got other things to do. I’ll put it here under the read more.
Hi! Do you know any fics like LeeBlack's "When a Born Wolf Howls" series where Stiles has contacts with the not-so-legal side of BH or where he knows how to pick locks, hot wire a car or stuff like that? Not a criminal or mafia AU, more like canon Stiles with a little extra. Thanks :)
So, I went with morally ambigous!Stiles. - Anastasia
The last thing that Stiles expected to see after coming into his room was Peter Hale, back from the dead and apparently sane. Well, relatively sane, all things considered.
And with everything that had happened in Beacon Hills recently, was it really so impossible to believe that, without the Alpha power trip, Peter was the sort of person who couldn’t be trusted but was too interesting to be ignored?
Stiles looked up at Scott in disbelief, a diamond pick between his teeth and his torsion wrench still wedged tight in the lock in front of him. He flicked his eyes back and forth from Scott to the lock a few times before raising an eyebrow at his friend.
“Scotty, bud, pal, my dude. I am literally in the middle of breaking into a lawyer’s office as we speak. In what universe is that not illegal?”
Stiles gets infected by vampire blood. According to a really old Russian text, he could become a blood-sucking monster like Bram Stoker’s Dracula, an incubus-like blood-sucker who needs blood and sex to survive, or he could literally drain people’s souls.
The hour of truth is approaching, as is the full moon. As such, Derek’s the only one available to be stuck on Stiles-sitting duty, and is the only one there when Stiles finds out exactly what new piece he’s becoming on the chessboard.
“Parole.” Stiles nods, standing up and stretching once again, revealing a naked and tattooed strip of skin above his belt. “I lied and I haven’t been traveling. I’ve actually been in lock up for five years on charges of attempted manslaughter, harboring a fugitive, and a few other broken laws.”
Scott laughs loudly before he catches onto the tense atmosphere in the room. “You can’t be serious.”
“Well, shit, Scott. I can’t undo the past, so I guess I am.” Stiles shrugs. “Listen to my heartbeat, young werewolves, you will find that I do not misguide you. Officer Hale here took it upon himself to become my new parole officer. How sweet is he?”
Stiles falls off the grid for 8 years. When Derek finally meets him again, it’s as a detective and main suspect in a murder investigation.
(1/1 I 8,122 I Teen I Stiles/Deucalion I Girl!Stiles)
It is in the dark of the night, when her brain won’t shut off and she is pacing, relentless with the need to do something, that she realizes that saying no was probably a very, very good thing. She is dangerous enough without adding ‘werewolf’ into that category.
It doesn’t stop her from thinking about it though, nor from dreaming.
Ever since Stiles presented as an Omega, he hasn’t been feeling the same urges as his peers. When he’s around an Alpha that’s not Scott (who is pretty much his brother at this point), his first reaction is to shrink away, not try to press closer. Until he meets Peter Hale. Who acts like the most annoying, entitled kind of Alpha on the planet. Except he’s not one. He’s an Omega. Of course, Stiles would turn out to be every type of gay possible.
Stiles is a vengeful dragon, and Peter is his mate. Stiles just has to convince Peter of that while they deal with the attempted murder of the Hale pack.
“Where–what the hell are you?!” His mate didn’t back away, instead he held his ground with claws bared, and his eyes flared a bright yellow. “Where is my pack?”
Stiles snuffed at him and tucked his tail around his hindclaws. Wolf. Well, that explained the odd smelling humans. He leaned forward, just a bit, and flicked his tongue out at the man, who lashed out with his sharp-tipped fingers. Pleased with his headstrong mate, he trilled again before shifting to his bipedal form with a suddenness that made the other man jerk back into a defensive stance.
“I’m a dragon, just in case the wings and scales didn’t give it away. I’d breathe fire too, but I think that would be just a bit insensitive, all things considered.” Stiles quirked a brow. “What is your name, wolf?”
“Peter Hale. Where is my family?” He darted at Stiles and grasped his throat.
“The last thing Stiles thought she wanted to hear was Derek Hale telling her she smelled ‘weird’. Except, a few moments later, he outclassed himself and turned Stiles’ entire world on its head by telling her something even worse.
“She didn’t smell ‘weird’. She smelled pregnant.”
Sometimes Peter looks at Stiles like he yearns to sink his fangs into her all over again. She thinks he’ll devour her if she isn’t careful.