#fic tag.

[irishais]

fic: turned away from it all like a blind man. (seifer, ffviii)

They say you can never go back home-- but sometimes, it feels like you've never left. Seifer, time compression and afterward, inspired by Bowie's "Under Pressure." Gift for @savaereardon.

AO3

[loveoaths]

i can’t stop describing maul as innately predatory, radiating silky danger and watchful teeth even when he appears at ease. the man has lived his entire life as a tiger in a cage; he does not do soft, because soft gets you killed, and he refuses to die.

i love writing him feline, elegant and animal bound together. there is something about him that innately triggers the primal in all who encounter him: the hair on your body pricks up, every sensory nerve kicking to life as that ancient evolutionary awareness that something is watching you, and it is hungry settles too-tight on your skin. his presence is paranoia, it’s that inner prickle when you whip around because you can feel someone watching you, but no one’s there. uncanny. unnerving. unwanted.

even when he’s caught and locked in a cell and you are separated by bars and force-blocking cuffs and solid walls, watching him watch you back feels like seeing a caged tiger for the first time, comes with the rapid onset feeling of, “oh.” this person, this thing is so much bigger, so much more dangerous, so much more unknowable than you ever anticipated, and for a split second you do not believe those cage bars will contain him. but then you think, no, metal is metal and you’re safe here. you’re safe. you are. and maul looks at you, contained, padding his cell carefully, knowing exactly when to turn without looking, golden eyes aglow and fixed on yours, and you can almost hear, in the menacing rumble unfurling inside his chest, an ancient word, one your animal ancestors knew but you’ve since evolved too far past to recognize, that feels a lot like “for now.”

[reveromantique]

spotify wrapped meme | anonymous asked:

🎁 ~I'm honestly just curious what Sei would have for songs.

He dreams of a desolate nowhere.

(This is why he hates to sleep, why he lives in cat-naps and disrupted REM cycles.)

Gray rocky nothing, an endless path to the end, except that the end is just more of the same, more nothing, more starless dark.

(He thinks, at one point, that he hears Leonhart's voice, calling for help-- wouldn't that be some kind of irony, the hero and the villain caught in the same hell?)

Seifer's boots leave no prints, Hyperion's tip scratches no scars into the ground.

Hello! Someone! Anyone!

His words come back empty to his own ears, a slap in the face that doesn't land.

--

He dreams of a red room, of a black chandelier turned nearly bone by its dripping wax.

(He doesn't want to be here.)

The chandelier is eclipsed, blocked from view; dark feathers and a snarling sneer fill his gaze instead, her body mutated-grotesque, her claws at his chin, her claws digging into the space over his heart.

(He rarely leaves this room not covered in his own blood.)

Her hips rise and fall-- he cannot help but follow, chasing what he understands (he doesn't understand this, doesn't understand why.)

Mine, she whispers like a lover against his mouth, mine, she breathes into his lungs.

Mine, she carves into his back, talons spread wide, burning her nails into his flesh.

--

He dreams of nothing and nowhere and missiles arcing across the sky, and wishes he didn't dream of anything at all.

[mcdennis]

do you love gay people? do you love it's always sunny in philadelphia? well then you should read my fanfic about my ocs in the iasip universe, set during "the gang dances their asses off". here's the summary!

Tangentially famous folk-punk band Bathtub Cigarettes learns that a local bar has been put up as a prize for a dance marathon. They're getting tired of playing shows out of their garage and realize that this is a perfect opportunity to get a permanent venue. They think they have a win in the bag, but that's before they meet the current owners of Paddy's Irish Pub.

[howfarwillitcarryyou]

so i got a burst of creative energy out of fuckin nowhere earlier this morning and now the prologue to the fic is both done And posted. which is a Wild amount of productivity for me but hey i'm not complaining

so without further ado, here's the prologue to "as far as it takes"! enjoy :)

[noelledeltarune]

EVERY SINGLE DAY there are MILLIONS of characters in their late 20s who get falsely accused of being father figures to teenagers when in reality the description of "weird older cousin" or "step-sibling that moved out before you were born" is 1000000x more apt

[mycroftrh]

Far worse, in my opinion, than the famous “he wouldn’t fucking say that” is “he WOULD fucking say that, as part of his facade, but you seem to think he would mean it genuinely”

[ao3-anonymous]

What in the fanfic hell is this?? 😂😂

[cozymodeonpoint]

senshi fans: learning how to make nutritious meals for themselves

laios fans: down bad

marcille fans: lesbianism

chilchuck fans: putting that man in situations

[sidcrosbrainworms]

today’s ao3 experience

[givemeureyes]

day 1 without ao3: i have gone through all 5 stages of grief multiple times and have invented a 6th. i will not disclose what the 6th stage of grief is.

[irishais]

fic: running up that hill (squall/rinoa, ffviii, 1-2/??)

She would do anything it took to save him, even if it means clipping her own wings. He couldn't stop her even if he wanted to. Squall/Rinoa, divergent endgame.

AO3

[loveoaths]

i will never stop thinking about how palpatine forces count dooku to kill his apprentice asajj ventress because she is getting too powerful, and palpatine refuses to tolerate a threat, even if it is useful and temporarily loyal. and how the nature of sith master and apprentice is built at the intersection of dependence and expendability. masters train apprentices to need them, and never teach them everything they know (implying that the sith have been steadily losing their own cultural knowledge and techniques over thousands of years because of their own selfishness) out of fear of their apprentice rising up and killing them, which is also the one thing they have trained their apprentice to do. meanwhile apprentices, resentful of their dependence, go out and create apprentices of their own to usurp their master and continue the entire useless cycle. by nature, both master and apprentice are inherently crucial and expendable all at once, which they then use as a threat to keep one another in line.

but in the cases of ventress and maul, they’re both uniquely expendable because their existence is only tolerated (first by plagueis, then by sidious) under the condition that they are a tool that will be disposed of once it’s usefulness has ended. that’s crazy. years and years of training someone only to off them; the time sink alone is ridiculous. and neither of them expects this, either, because they believe in the old lineage of the sith: that their masters will honor their agreement and make them Sith Lords so long as they obey without question, only to find out in the worst way that they were never intended to become true Sith Lords. they were a means to an end, and both of them feel so deeply betrayed and hurt by this that they cannot let it go. like… i dunno man, but as much as that is a leopards-ate-my-face situation, it’s also deeply sad because these two in particular are essentially raised in the sith tradition. ventress has some years as a jedi, but not many. the foundation of their beings, the one solid thing they believed in, turned out to be hollow. sad.

[fanficmemes]

Love when writers do an insane amount of unnecessary research for their fics. I follow an author that did like 8 months of intense research into 14th century Scotland so they could write smut about it, and guess what. It was some fucking incredible porn AND I learned about old Scottish politics

[littlelightfish]

This... this is a whole different kind of psychic damage here. When nightmares got Marcille, we get to knew that her's biggest fear is outliving her friends. This isn't even canon probably, but look at this. This isn't a "I don't want my friends to die" kind of dream. This is a "I'm terrified of loosing my daughters, of something killing them, and being incapable of stopping it" kind of dream. It's so simple yet it explains perfectly the whole of chilchucks character. He loves, he cares, deeply. But he, or doesn't acknowledges, or doesn't know what to do with that knowledge.

Besides that. Someone had to wake him up after this. Imagine the devastation in this man after he wakes up. He just saw his three little babys murdered corpses (or maybe he saw them die, wich isn't better). He would possibly not talk about it, and that would worry the hell out of the party, because we'll, they see him all down and only one of them knows what he saw. Imagine being the one to pull him from that nightmare. Seeing this man, usually so composed, fuking staring with tears and terror in his eyes to the composes of what you can only assume are his daughters. It would be heartwrenching.

Idk, I love this man so much...

[crazywolf828]

To all my writers who have a tough time with smut terms and not knowing which ones to use, I have found the holy grail for us.

This reddit user, who I've recently found out is @kjscottwrites here on tumblr, took a poll of 3,500 people and went really in depth with asking their favorite terminology, along with actual pie charts on what the readers preferred to see in their smut.

Check out their post with the link to the Google doc here!