you got me into raridash... do u have any fic recs?
oh i ABSOLUTELY do. here’s my raridash collection on fimfiction
there’s also my own fic!! forgive the shameless plug haha
Violets and Bluebells
Rarity never quite liked the concept of soul flowers.
They were ugly, unnecessary, and the sheer number of them marring her coat demonstrated a recklessness from her soulmate that she frequently bemoaned was going to get them killed one day.
Never did she hope for her prediction to come true.
and while not quite fanfiction, vyletpony’s colourless is a fantastic album telling a bittersweet raridash story!
and finally, while i can’t vouch for all the stories, the raridash group on fimfiction is a great collection of fics!
OH AND HOW COULD I FORGET my all time favourite mlp fic
Threshold
As the rest of her friends found happiness and fulfillment, Rarity was left behind. Now, trapped in a dead-end relationship, she can feel herself slipping away in more ways than one.
The return of her dear friend Rainbow Dash might mean salvation, but as the world crumbles around them the girls begin to question their place in time and in each other's lives.
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top 5 wips you’re most excited to write? :D
AH …. anon my beloved 🥺🥺🥺 tysm for giving me an excuse to talk about them!!!! i have a whole bunch but here are the ones i’m most excited for/planning to write soon :3 hopefully
TITLES ARE STILL UNDER CONSTRUCTION BTW but if you know where any of them are from you get a big gold star ⭐️
it’s your touch that i need
the best friend’s brother!satoru fic that i’m planning on posting next….. i’m . Unsure if i’ll have time to post it this week but :’3 i’ll get it done!!! honestly i just think bfb!toru is insanely attractive so this is mostly an outlet for that but . i have a plot mapped out kind of… the unrequited love trope is just perfect for him but it’s Me so it’ll probably be less angsty and more funny/bittersweet !!
here’s a snippet from it <3
”you’re a good kid,” he says, and his smile teeters on the edge of something apologetic. mostly, it’s pitying. ”there are lots of people out there for you.”
the weight of his palm on your head is usually a comfort, but like this? it’s a specific kind of torture. he ruffles your hair, as affectionate as ever, the same as it’s always been. not a trace of any romantic intent.
there are lots of people out there for you.
(i know, you want to tell him, but your voice is raspy and your throat feels sort of dry. i know. but i want you.)
hunter, you were human
my neglected mer!sugu fic…… our beloved fish man….. one day. i’ll write it out. i’m having some trouble deciding the order of events + general formatting of the outline so 😭😭 i’m a bit stuck. i’ll get there though!!! this au has angst potential but it’s Me so trust that this will be fluffy and nothing else. lots of banter and cutesy moments. i have a lotttt of thoughts about this au and character/reader dynamic so….. i’m. really excited to eventually write it all out!!! i love him sm :cc
“i don’t really like freshwater.”
…
your eyes widen. his voice is silky, smooth, like a silver river running from the forked tip of his tongue; a melodic lilt that makes you think of the lullaby your mother used to sing you to sleep with.
a long, slow moment passes you by, like the rocking of a rusty ship. silently, your tongue forms around a bundle of words, your mouth gaping like a fish out of water. staring at the merman in your bathtub.
“you can talk?!”
consider the hairpin turn
THE BELOVEDEST OF THEM ALL …… my extremely neglected best friend’s brother!kenjaku fic T_T my magnum opus even . i started writing it out a while ago but had to stop bc i can’t decide how to format it …. i think it’d be best to tell the story through a lot of flashbacks but it’s difficult to decide where to put what flashbacks in a way that doesn’t disturb the flow, yk??? but i do have everything outlined and i’m super excited to finally post it :33 someday… bfb!kenny is the actual loml i have so much lore planned for him. this fic is just a whole bunch of yearning and tension… the tiniest tiniest bit suggestive bc he truly makes me ill.
nervously, your gaze trails towards the stairs. worried, your teeth gnawing at your bottom lip. kenjaku notices.
a large palm cradles your cheek; making sure your eyes stay locked onto his own. ”don't worry about him,” he soothes, a rough thumb smoothing down your skin. ”it’s just us here… just you and me. why don’t you take a deep breath for me, hm?”
(you do. without thinking. as if your body was waiting for instructions, waiting to satiate this gnawing desire to impress him, make him proud. be good for him.)
“now,” he exhales, in tandem with you, molecules mingling together. “do you want this?”
only in the next world
ANOTHER DEARLY BELOVED WIP that’s been rotting in my drafts for a while ….. 👉👈 i think that out of all of these fics this is the first one that i wrote the outline to?? probably even before i made this blog. it’s basically just a canon-aligned au where gojo navigates his maybe-possibly-feelings for you, a new teacher at jujutsu high!! sooo really just my attempt to write what i view as a more canon-aligned gojo and his feelings towards love :3 mostly character-centered fluff and slowburn… some office au vibes…. i’m very fond of this reader!! and i love this version of gojo so bad i really hope i can do him justice…
“they’re a softie, huh?”
shoko exhales — smoke drifting past her lungs, mingling with the cold air, a stench of tobacco that makes him crinkle his nose. ”they are,” she hums, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. a dangerously knowing look. “it’s not often someone captures your attention.”
gojo smiles. ”is that what it seems like?” he drawls, almost a chuckle. closing his eyes and thinking of you, the fading scent of your perfume. ”well, who knows.”
(certainly not him.)
signs of affection
my sickeningly fluffy cult leader geto fic <333 bc i’m spreading the agenda that he is a puppy of a man towards his s/o. this one is just meant to be funny and sweet!! i adoreee the thought of him dating a retired sorcerer with a normal ass job so in this one the reader works at a preschool…. and they’re meant to attend some kind of event for the preschool + is offered to bring a plus one. mild chaos ensues (geto doesn’t want to be anywhere near your non-sorcerer colleagues but he also wants to support you so he’s having a bit of a crisis rn…..) i LOVE this one and i’m so excited to write it out <333333 i think this geto is the most endearing man alive.
suguru blinks, eyelashes fluttering, gleaming under the shallow light of the lamppost just behind him. illuminating the peach-dyed flush dusting his ears, those wide pupils. and his lips, glossy with something cherry-flavoured, soon to curl up into a smile — fond, fond, fond. melting into your touch, basking in your long-sought attention. if he were a cat, you’re sure he'd be purring.
he places one big palm over yours, where it rests on his cheek, and he stares. silently, like you’re the only thing worth seeing; dreamy galaxies inside his eyes, all honey and star clusters, leaking adoration. a milky way of love.
”… another,” he pleads, nosing at your fingertips.
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(this is absolutely because i read this excellent piece by @sharkodactyl and i'm having So Many Imogen thoughts, my apologies)
god. i just. there's a way of interpreting imogen that. makes me love how much of imogen's ruthlessness, the storm in her veins- is her own, for better or for worse. Especially now, as Delilah starts pressing in more and more and we see Laudna revelling in what her powers can do but with the heartbreaking clarity of where it comes from. That it's a gift with strings attached.
That Laudna can do great things, horrifying things, but there's always still the voice, in the back of her head, always that worry of- was it me? is it me? Is this glee, this power, mine, or a borrowed tool with someone else's fingerprints smudged all over it. Is this my own desire, or are all my desires and wants and thoughts just little echoes of somebody else. planted ideas growing in a caged garden.
And, then in sharp contrast, Imogen-
It's so delicious, because there's all this power, and rage, and ruthlessness, and- there's definitely a whole fucking lot going on with her powers and in her head, and the gnarlrock effects, maybe,
but Imogen, in battle, looking at a threat and focusing the rage of a storm (focusing the rage of her storm) into one supercharged crack of lightning to fry them alive. Imogen, seeing a situation get questionable and giving up a bomb and detonating it without flinching, without regret, without hesitation.
That's her. There's no voice, there's no extra stipulation on the power, not any more than it already took away. This storm has chased, and tormented her for years and made her unsure and desperate and coldly functional all at once.
but when she draws it out of her veins, when she takes a breath and pulls all that power from the sky and herself and sends it screaming out of her fingertips- its all her. The power, the fury, the choice.
A sky-shattering crack, your vision going white and your ears ringing. Power that surges through metal and man alike, leaves one of them dead and fried, smoking and fused to his vehichle, his weapon.
("I didn't mean to kill him." But the hurt was the point, the harm was the point, and there's no other voice egging her on or calibrating her power- it's her, just her, Imogen, furious and storming with it, taking in a breath and releasing it).
(I don't think it's easy- or maybe it is, and that's part of the problem, but its hers. The decision, the rage, the storm.
For better, or for worse).
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bandages
prompt: makeshift bandages
whumpee: sakari nurmi
fandom: karppi/deadwind
hiii what's up! here's a short little thing ft. plenty of blood :) hope you enjoy!
His mouth tastes like blood. The air smells like it, metallic and heavy and warm. The only thing he can hear, besides the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, is Karppi.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Hey, keep your arm raised!”
He obeys, though his muscles are getting tired. He rests his arm carefully against the hard concrete wall behind him, feels the blood dripping down his skin and soaking into his sleeve.
There is an unconscious man lying on the ground a few feet away, and the knife he’d had is currently being used by Karppi to tear her shirt into strips. Sakari watches her work and tries to ignore how lightheaded he feels.
The cut across his wrist is deep and painful. The knife had cut him almost down to the bone, he thinks, and the bleeding is heavy and hot against his skin.
They are waiting for an ambulance, but they’re in the middle of nowhere and it is taking too long to arrive. So Karppi is making bandages.
When her shirt is thoroughly destroyed, Karppi moves forward into his space, takes hold of his arm without allowing him to lower it, and uses the knife to cut the fabric of his shirt away from his wrist. She is careful and it does not cause him any more pain, but it takes all of his willpower not to flinch or tell her to stop. The knife’s blade is still speckled with his blood.
When his sleeve has been cut away at last, Sakari looks upwards at the damage. The skin around the cut is stained bright red and the cut is a darker shade of maroon, fresh blood continually pumping out of the wound and trickling down his arm.
He looks away rather quickly.
Karppi does not waste any time. She wraps one strip of fabric around his wrist, directly atop the cut, and ties it tightly. It hurts horribly, but Sakari grits his teeth and bears it. He tries not to think about how dirty the fabric might be, pressed against his open wound. For now, it is enough that the bleeding slows. He can worry about everything else later.
Another few strips are tied atop the initial bandage. When Karppi finally runs out of material, Sakari can barely feel his hand for the pressure exerted by the tightly-tied fabric, but he’s pretty sure the bleeding has indeed slowed.
He carefully lowers his arm, rests it in his lap. This time, Karppi does not stop him. He leans his head back against the cool concrete and closes his eyes. His head is still spinning.
He hears a shuffling noise, feels Karppi sink down beside him. She grabs the hand on the uninjured side of his body and squeezes it. He can feel his blood on her fingers.
“You’ll be okay,” she says, like there is no room for argument, and he believes her, just like that.
thanks for reading! hope you liked it, love u <3
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