#Fic: New Body. New Me

[takaraphoenix]

Also just holy shit I need to write approximately 50 more post-Nogitsune Stetopher fics.

I forgot that Peter was the one who came up with how to save Stiles.

I forgot that Chris was fully ready to kill Stiles to defeat the Nogitsune.

I also FULLY forgot that Stiles got a whole new body. This one fucks me up so badly I am so angry that I already wrote so many post-Nogitsune fics and didn't get to angst about Stiles' all new body.

[kaiscumsock]

evan peters evan peters evan peters

[little-pondhead]

The Curse Of Hope

_

Danny is in another universe. He had a reason, but he doesn’t remember anymore. He can only stare, horrified and disgusted, at the sickest city spirit he’s ever seen. Shivering and swaying with every step, core exposed, and ectoplasm leaking from wounds that are decades old. A ratty blanket was thrown over their shoulders, barely hiding the spirit’s pale grey skin and protruding black bones.

The spirit didn’t even sense him until he reached out to touch its wispy shoulders. The spirit flinched, clutching at the dozens of trinkets hanging from their neck and tucking in on themselves like they were expecting a blow.

“Oh, shit,” He swore, floating back a few feet, hands in the air, to show he meant no harm. “I’m sorry. I promise, I’m not here to steal from you.” The spirit shivered again and rolled a pearl necklace in between their fingers. A nervous habit. “Uh, I like that pocket watch? It’s very nice.”

That got their attention. They peeked at Danny, and he saw that more tattered cloth was covering their eyes, blending in with the stringy hair that reached the ground. Their blanket fluttered weakly, revealing hundreds of thousands of tiny marks etched into their skin. Scars, really. Scars that wrote out curse after curse onto the spirit’s very being. They burned with evil intent, and even reached inside the spirit’s body and wrapped around their core.

Occasionally, blinding specks of color raced across their body, temporarily erasing the writing, but it always returned quickly. He watched, a little detached, as one particular line rewrote itself across their rough forearm, drawing fresh ectoplasm like someone was writing it with a thin knife.

“Are you…alright?” Danny stuttered. A stupid question.

The spirit cocked its head. He couldn’t see their eyes, but he felt their burning gaze as they pondered the question.

“The pain of others becomes mine own.” They rasped. “The lights of the city dim as rotten wealth clogs mine veins. Magicks long forgotten have eaten mine skins, pulled mine cloak, and darkened mine skies. Helios has refused to grace mine doorstep, and the seasons of the Earth have revoked their kindness.”

Danny held his breath. It felt like he was the one with the exposed core, not the spirit.

The spirit shivered once more. “Tell mine soul, little lamb. How could this Forsaken City know peace, when it was long since ripped from mine hands?”

Shit, he needed Frostbite. And maybe Clockwork. Now.

-Or-

Danny meets the spirit of Gotham City. The villains and rogues that have plagued the city for decades are literal curses that are taking quite the toll on Gotham, and honestly, Danny isn’t sure how much longer they can hold out. The heroes seem to be doing some help, and are probably the reason Gotham made it this far, but the poor city needs help from the Realms if they want to get better.

Luckily, Danny can provide that help.

But only if he could get Gotham to leave their city behind. Because recovery is going to take a very long time.

[bagelqaq]

the cutest girl perhaps ever! and definitely the normalest

based on transfer stations by airblue

[myokk]

Trick or treat my beloved moot 😇😇😇

Here is a 10 min sketch of your princess🥹🫶

I tried to capture her personality!!!

And, your fic is NEXT on my to-read list💘

Everyone should check her blog out!! Beautiful writing & beautiful screenshots🤌

[libr-0-cubicularist]

A thing I made based on the wonderful fic Corruption Loves Company by @hey-adora (clicheusername5678 on Ao3) ft. Biblically Accurate Vio

[eiitsuya]

some of you writing de-aging/age regression fics have never interacted with kids and it shows

[tightjeansjavi]

updating my theme is literally just me frantically trying to find a color palette that matches the vibe I’m trying to convey 😭

Anyway, new theme! 🔮✨🌞🌛

[calmlb]

Soukoku Height Difference —Reference

for any fic writers or artists who need it, here’s a reference for skk’s height difference at 15, 16 (according to dead apple), & 22

[tititilani]

So does Edwin actually remember every time he got torn apart by the baby doll spider?

Or does he just reform each time with the first thing he sees being his last body still being ripped to shreds by the spider but is thankfully spared from actually vividly remembering it tearing into him each time?

When Charles finds the non-bloodied version of him, Edwin actually seems somewhat surprised to see him like he doesn't remember having seen him just moments ago with his last face

Or do you think that he remembers each of the (probably thousands) of times the thing has chased him through the hallway only to catch him and feast on him again and again

[bobfloydsbabe]

Songwriter Bob Floyd is happening.

[sorryiwasasleep]

fuck yes fuck yes fuck yes new hunger games content, 50th games centered (2nd Quarter Quell!), focus on the idea of implicit submission, governance of the many by few, and propaganda, and FUCK those are TIMELY as she ALWAYS is and i cannot wait for another poignant as fuck political commentary and I sincerely hope that that messaging ACTUALLY gets through to the readers/viewers/reviewers who continue to ignore the commentary in her work or play it off as hyperbolic fiction in a dystopic future that will NEVER happen and not what it is— a distorted mirror of our reality, highlighting the most ugly brutal and violent aspects in gorgeous prose.

i literally do not even care what point of view this book comes at us from, I’m so fucking excited

[miles-before-i-sleep]

it would probably be a great big giant pain in the ass but i would love a fanfic where Kayne was forced into John's position, maybe with someone else, even, not Arthur. and that poor soul, too, bc you KNOW Kayne would hate it and fight it and be a huge prick about it the entire way. but there's something about the all powerful laid low and made to feel helpless (even if in reality they're not) that really interests me. "here, see how this shoe fits - terrible, isn't it?"

[theriverbeyond]

“I’m dead,” Kiriona said, again. Her tongue felt swollen in her mouth, heavy as a rock before a tomb. “I have loved the dead before,” Harrow murmured. “Death could not stop me from loving you."

(or: The Corpse Prince is dead, and no power above the River nor below can make her alive again. Harrow shows her that she can still be loved.)

(or: Kiriona is having mad body issues and Harrow is like "darling that is NOT a problem for me, watch this" rolls up sleeves and gets to work)

(or: i listened to the new Hozier song Francesca 2 nights ago and promptly became possessed)

4k words; Rated E (18+); Chapter 1/2

[theinfinitedivides]

'get the doctor, Parker, now—' 'no need, it'll be over in a couple of minutes.' 'you don't get it, do you? Eliot's not like other foxes. he doesn't play games, he fights to survive! that's his training.'

Eliot's default fight-or-flight mechanism kicking in from whatever the f*ck he's been through for his entire life:

[tortoisesshells]

for the five lines meme: “a deed without a name,” for Burke/vicki?

what is it with me and the vampire end of things? from the rvb universe immediately post-confrontation with barnabas.

Vicki had been married in her best dress, adequate to a few years of birthdays and holidays at the Foundling Home and not much else besides; there’d been something – something she knew she ought to feel sharply, or as humiliation – in standing next to Burke, whose tiepin probably cost more than everything she was wearing. If she’d had time to find another dress, she might have picked just such a one as this – old-fashioned, high-waisted, soft as a cloud. Delicate. Musty? It made as much sense as anything else, dizzy as she was, cotton-headed as she felt. Burke pushed the veil off her face with as much care or more as he’d shown then, in the half-second after they’d been called into that musty office, fixing the beautifully-printed scarf that she’d borrowed from Mrs. Stoddard – he’d been so steady, then and his hands were so bloody now, and shaking –

Send me a character/pairing and a title to get five lines of an imaginary fic.