#very fic worthy

[taw-k]

Somewhere, near an old camp, is a massive field scared and covered with runes and symbols unknown scorched permanently into the ground. Radioactivity is off the charts high. In the middle lies shards of rainbow quartz and golden wreckage... and a man.

[fumifooms]

Hien & Benichidori compilation

Okay so I put a & but this absolutely a shippy post, the hienichidori community is quiet af and there is no discourse but their comics in their Adventurer’s Bible profiles…!!! Many may ask, does Benichidori canonically have a crush on Hien?! Straightforward answer: It’s left heavily implied but yes. Alternate answer: If the framing of Falin in an explosion as Toshiro says that he loves her isn’t meant to associate the explosion with falling in love when it is mirrored in the next page, then… I think it’s a mix of both, I don’t think just this is true because Hien wouldn’t know who Shuro is talking about or even what Falin looks like, but it could be that the explosion is instead meant to show a world vision being shaken, the thing blowing you away. So for Hien, having Shuro say that breaks this unsaid assumption she’s always had that they might end up together, and thus Falin is taken like an explosion to the face. Similarly, for someone with facial dysmorphia and for who appearances and being subservient are everything, having Hien be confident and totally assume her plain looks, even uplifting herself, that also shakes her world like a bomb. And yes it’s not just about the makeup!! Benichidori’s drawn to her confidence, to her unapologetic attitude, to her attitude. Benichidori unexpectedly snapped at Hien too, but she was totally unshaken and she replied casually and lightheartedly even then; Benichidori saying she can be herself with Hien is about Hien not caring about her mask, both her makeup and her subdued demeanor. Hien is canonically special to Benichidori.

And on the note of that comic, I took a picture from my Adventurer’s Bible for this but I think the fantranslations I’ve seen are lovely too, really gets across all the meaning of the original sentence… Where Benichidori said "She was the only one I could be my unadorned self in front of" (which is my fave) or "I’m able to act my honest self with her". Benichidori having body(more specifically facial) dysmorphia is explicitly stated in the Adventurer’s Bible btw.

Pleasee how Hien’s extra is her talking about her life story and Toshiro to Benichidori… How Hien says "That guy is blind!" and Benichidori says "I’ve noticed that 😊" as if saying that Toshiro is blind to what a catch Hien is… Also in the ninja girls’ shared inn room Benichidori puts her futon next to Hien’s bed.

[monakisu]

“i can take you to the place of delight” — my favorite scene was “goro finds out he’s been cuckolded”

[simplykorra]

their relationship is very important to me

[danielsarmand]

present tense get behind me i will avenge you i will write in present tense in a way that is so scrumptious no one will ever underestimate you again ever

[iknowicanbutwhy]

QUIT MY JOB WOOO TIME TO FIND ANOTHER

[musings-of-miss-j]

do you play hsr

yessir i do play Hopping Shoe Railway featuring characters such as Anthill, Wednesday and uuuhhh *squints at hand* Adventuretime

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

Absolutely gorgeous art by @dezimaton, uploaded on my blog with their permission! This is an accompanying piece, cover art, for my fanfiction entry for @vincentvalentineweek !! Entry found here.

Please enjoy and stare in awe of this wonderful, beautiful work!!

[jattendschaton]

holding back tears when your 47k fic hits 80 kudos but you cant like celebrate with anyone because thats literally not even an accomplishment but you thought it would never actually reach 80 kudos and you're being an emotional little baby :') :') :')

[nostalgia-tblr]

Never Have I Ever - Darkfic or Dub/Non-Con?

I have done those things! Most recently the 'dark lokius' fic, which is both of those things, though I am always less sure about when to label fics as 'dark' because it's sometimes a fairly subjective judgement, isn't it?

Speaking of, a thing I noticed a while ago is that in recent years people seem to label fic as dubcon more readily than they used to, which I think is good and shows that we've all got at least a bit more aware of the importance of informed consent and of the real and fictional factors that can compromise that consent. Good work, fandom!

(The people who deliberately write 'problematic' fic know what they've made and label it accordingly, as opposed to people who think they write lovely fluffy happy tales but there's some element of fucked up in there that they haven't spotted and so we as readers just get smacked in the face with it without any warning. So actually people who know they're fucking shit up are usually not the ones anyone needs to worry about as their stuff is easy to avoid.)

[amtrak12]

Just so you don't pity me for the zero notes, my Lucifer Ask Meme from last night is actually doing numbers on Twitter and gained me two new friends 😊

[nysscientiafic]

a fragment of the devil pact fic

The tavern is long past closed. At this hour, the space looks yawning and empty and uncannily still, shadows slouching against every booth and table.

It’s easy, suddenly, to see why rumours abound that the place is haunted.

For lack of another plan, Wyll drifts over to the bar. He’s never seen it like this before: every seat open; every mug stowed. After a moment’s deliberation, he selects a bottle of wine—a vintage he recognizes, decent in quality but common—and trades it for a handful of gold from his pocket.

“Care for some company?”

The voice is so soft, and so godsdamned close in the silent room, that Wyll nearly fumbles the bottle.

Astarion is too quiet by half.

Wyll sets the wine down, braces his palms against the bar. “You did that on purpose.”

Draping himself onto the stool next to Wyll, Astarion props an elbow on the bar and rests his head in his palm. His smirk is small and pleased. “Maybe.”

Wyll can feel that his answering smile is tired; but he smiles all the same.

After a beat, he retrieves the wine, and realizes he’s bought himself a problem: it’s a nice enough bottle so as to be decently sealed. And in his night clothes, any tools he might use to pop the cork are upstairs with his armor and gear.

Well.

Turning, he hands the unopened bottle to Astarion—and tries to swallow his surprise when the man accepts it without comment.

“So,” Astarion says, retrieving a narrow wire from—nowhere, as far as Wyll can tell—“What brings our blushing damsel down here, away from a warm bed to sleep off his ordeal?” He slips the implement between the cork and the bottle, begins to shimmy it down.

“I don’t feel too restful.” Wyll sighs, watching Astarion fidget with the wine. “Does it ever seem to you that we survive one catastrophe, only to find ourselves falling face-first into the next?”

“Darling, that’s what life is.” His tool catches, somehow, and he starts to pull, easing the cork free. “One catastrophe after another.”

Wyll snorts. “Bleak.”

“Well, I never said they can’t be fun,” Astarion replies, one eyebrow crooked slyly. Leaning over the bar, he snatches two glasses from the other side, fills one.

He passes it to Wyll, who accepts. Then he toasts with the remainder of the bottle, second glass abandoned.

When Wyll sets down his wine—perfectly adequate; nothing memorable—Astarion is turning the bottle in his hands, perusing the label. Humming his consideration.

“Disgusting,” he says, observationally.

Then he pours himself a glass.

The appearance of Astarion at his side is—surprising. It’s quelled the frantic ebullience in Wyll’s chest, which should be a kind of settling. But instead, the agitation seems to have dispersed throughout his body: a thrumming, soft and insistent under the surface of his skin, vibrating through him like a struck chime.

His heartbeat feels very emphatic in his breast.

“I saw you chatting with Father Dear,” Astarion says at last, gaze fixed on the fluid swirling along the sides of his glass.

Nodding, Wyll says, “He was finally willing to listen.” He swallows. “It was—more than I’d dared to hope for.”

“See, this is part of your problem, darling.” Astarion turns around in his seat, crossing his legs primly. He’s still angled towards Wyll, but he’s facing out to the tavern at large, leaned back against the bar with his arm splayed wide. “Barely daring to hope for things that are the least of what you’re due.”

[itsbinghebitch]

NO REST FOR THE WICKED | E | 17.8k | vegaspete AU

chapter 4: Porsche achieves a lifelong goal. Pete overdoes it. Yok just wants a quiet day at the beach, goddammit.

“What a surprise to see you here so early,” Vegas says as he approaches. “And Pete, too.” His eyes meet Pete’s, and the intense focus is almost too much. A shiver surges through Pete at the realization that, after so many bewildering interactions (which quite literally include seeing each other naked), this is the first time Vegas has actually uttered his name.

It leaves him unsettled. Vegas says Pete’s name in his slinky, accented way, redolent of private international schools and trips around the world. Pete catches himself before his mind starts wandering places—like what it would be like for Vegas to say his name when it’s just the two of them? Would he say it any differently? If it were just the two of them and no one else around, maybe somewhere else than their respective balconies—

No, Pete berates himself. Not going there. Nope.

☀️🏝️👬🏻 fic details under the cut ❤️‍🔥⛓ 

☀️ summary:

Pete has long left Thailand. He is now living the American dream, working long hours to make his rich clients richer and himself more miserable than ever.

But when his best friend Porsche invites him to his destination wedding to the mysterious Kinn, Pete finds himself suddenly thrown into the world of the Theerapanyakul family, the silent machinations underpinning their wealth, and Kinn’s cousin Vegas—who, for reasons unknown, has made it his mission to tear down every assumption Pete holds about his life.

—

resort romance AU where Kinn & co are still mafia (except Pete doesn't know)

���� tags:

Alternate Universe, Corporate Consultant Pete, Pete POV, wedding shenanigans, Thailand, Secret Relationship, Plot, Mental Health Issues, Depression, some strong language around mental health, Injury, Angst, but with a happy ending, Explicit Sexual Content, things happening on balconies, Kink Negotiation, Dom/sub, pete meets vegas and is immediately like 'disgusting......tell me more’, the inherent bdsm of capitalism, the inherent bdsm of mafia romance, class fallouts, pete’s many dormant kinks, Other Additional Tags To Be Added

[a-very-fond-farewell]

pumpkin gnocchi with sausage-based ragú spoke to me in a dream so I think I should really write tonight

[v-arbellanaris]

i think the problem (?) is that the only kind of (fictional?) love that interests me is the kind of love that changes the world. the kind of love that derails the narrative, the kind of love that changes everything -- not necessarily by how special or unique the love is but by the very mundanity of it. the love that grows, not in spite of the barren lovelessness of Before, but out of it. i think that's why I'm always so invested in ships that are two people diametrically opposed to each other, or enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, or two people on separate sides of the morality issue coin, because i love it when love... not that it changes a person but it allows the person to Become. the space, the grace, to change. to love the monster, to love the unlovable and the intolerable, is to make it something other than a monster, than unlovable, than intolerable. i love it when being loved at your worst, ugliest, most horrible self is what makes you want to be someone worth loving. like is this ANYTHING to anyone or

[sairitaikutsu]

BACKREADING OLD PRIVATE SR FICS I WROTE AND ONE OF THEM FROM LAST YEAR HAS THE FUNNIEST FUCKING ENDING EVER IM GONNA CRY 😭😭😭