lmbiggs

[lmbiggs]

Come be horny on main with me, everyone!

Tumblr is officially dead, so I’m making the official migration to twitter until I find something better to blog things on (thinking of making an official writing blog so stay tuned on that.

You can also find my fanfic on AO3.

[lmbiggs]

Come be horny on main with me, everyone!

Tumblr is officially dead, so I’m making the official migration to twitter until I find something better to blog things on (thinking of making an official writing blog so stay tuned on that.

You can also find my fanfic on AO3.

[lmbiggs]

Here's my twitter, guys, just in case I get deleted.

I’ll be staying here as much as I possibly can, but just in case I get deleted here is my twitter.

[lmbiggs]

I call upon the fan fic writing gods to bless you with the perseverance to finish one of your unfinished drafts. 

May your fingers dance along the letters upon your device with ease, may the devil of distraction stay far from you, and may your work not need much editing.

I pass this blessing upon every fan fic writer out there.

[lmbiggs]

[lmbiggs]

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*sweats nervously*

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[lmbiggs]

Me: hi I’m an artist

Me: *aggressively avoids drawing*

[lmbiggs]

tag yourself

[lmbiggs]

No mortal hand nor man alive No craftsman’s weapon or earthly storm Shall kill the king on his last morn, Tis’ only laughter and the killer’s smile Which shall end the tyrant’s reign.

The jester gazed upon the chaos of the realm, sitting perched upon a window ledge to perfectly view the balcony below. 

It was a habit of hers to watch the sun rise alongside the tyrant who ruled the world, though he did not often acknowledge her. She sat, silent and watchful, in the way that the brightly coloured birds painted upon the walls of the Queen’s boudoir might. The King would rise, would wrap himself in his thick robe over his nightclothes, and go, every day, without fail, to look upon his kingdom. 

The jester wondered if he reveled or regretted the squalor of his people, the dirty faces with rotting teeth that were turned to look up at him, their frail arms lifting shaking fists. Fear kept them from attacking, from moving forward, but still they screamed their rage, still they waited.

For what? For opportunity? For justice? For mercy?

The Gods had long ago proven that none of those things would be forthcoming, that for whatever divine reason they had sided with a tyrant.

And yet...

In these moments, where the King looked upon his shrieking subjects, the crowd ebbing and flowing like a tide, it would be so easy...

It was a whim that made the jester leap from her perch, the bells tied to her shoes jingling. The man below her turned, eyes narrowed, and as she moved the sun crested over the buildings below, over the parapets of the castle walls, hitting the glittering glass windows that the King had been so proud to have.

Her feet hit the man’s chest and she leapt backwards, the dexterity of a seasoned tumbler allowing her to roll upon the ground, her head lifting to see the man as she crouched upon the balcony. She watched as he screamed, fell over the edge of the balcony, the elaborate embroidered hem of his robe licking at the man’s ankles as he tumbled over the edge, unable to catch himself on the railing. 

The crowd below fell silent for only a moment to watch the man’s descent, and after a small eternity the jester could hear the bone-shattering impact of the man’s body upon the ground, his screams cut off into a weak gurgle in the deafening silence.

The jester looked over the edge of the balcony, staring upon the people who were frozen in shock. The man weakly tried to raise himself upon an arm, rolling onto his side.

No one moved to aid him, no one dared even breathe until he crumpled, his last sputtered exhale staining the cobblestones even more red, catching the ankles of nearby peasants who gazed in silent witness to his last moments.

The jester stepped back, away from the balcony where the crowd could see her.

Turning into the royal chambers she couldn’t help the wide smile that threatened to tear at the corners of her face, her eyes narrowing as she stared upon the decadent chambers before her. 

*Long live the Fool.* She thought as she began to whistle a cheery tune, going through the winding hallways to find the Queen, to show her the King’s corpse, and to collect the kiss that the woman had quietly promised as a reward to the man who might one day kill her husband.

Well... No man had killed him. But she would kiss the Queen all the same, and they would sing ballads of her act within hours.

Level 1: Prophecy proclaims that no man can kill villain; killed by woman.

Level 2: Prophecy proclaims that no weapon can harm villain; pushed down stairs and dies.

Level 3: Prophecy proclaims that villain will be brought low by no mortal hand; kicked to death by angry mob.

Level 4: Prophecy proclaims that no power on Earth shall be villain’s undoing; fatally distracted by sun in eyes.

Level 5: Prophecy proclaims that only power of laughter can defeat villain; beat up by clown.

[lmbiggs]

me, the motherfucker with over 50 abandoned works in progress: i have another idea

[lmbiggs]

I love hearing about the vibes I give off cause I honestly have no idea

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me, staring down ao3: ok i’m desperate for fic about this pairing but like… how desperate

[lmbiggs]

whileyoustillcan > lmbiggs

[lmbiggs]

my bisexual little self finding a new story where the blurb is – genderbend peter pan lesbian au with captain hook and wendy darling. bdsm elements. done right. an all female crew of dangerous bloodthirsty pirate ladies?

yes. just. YES

[lmbiggs]

whileyoustillcan:

In which Wendy returns to Neverland, all grown up, and into the arms of Captain Jane Hook.

a fic by @kamikazesoundsociety and @lmbiggs​