#i drew this months ago and wrote the post

[blaseballbrainrot]

[who's the pest now?]

[echojedis]

Rex: Whose lost child is this

[kaiserouo]

Fun fact: Most simulacra don't know they're simulacra, thanks to the ego retention system

[niobiumao3]

Phee didn’t trust readily or often. The residents of Pabu were the only people she’d let get close to her in years. Actual, emotional intimacy, well, that was simply out of the question. Where was she going to find someone she could trust enough for that?

Not where she expected, as it turned out.

~*~

~9k, Tech/Phee, #TECHLIVES, post-Season 2/Plan 99

A treat I wrote for RarePair Exchange 2023.

This was me dabbling with the reverse of the usual: Phee as the hesitant party instead of Tech. He's so bold throughout the entire show, confident in 99.9% of everything he does. I figured maybe taking the short way down a mountainside could have a recalibrating effect on his approach to romance as well and wanted to play with it as an idea against the background of demi-ish Phee whose brash and teasing exterior is really her setting up a buffer zone.

[cerealmonster15]

noooo the leona thing was a DIFFERENT thing so wtf is thattttt

ok wait actually. the first one was from nanowrimo and is the "main" branch of multiverse lol. the one with the rsa ocs....

second one. yeah ok thats just the bird thing i wrote down before falling asleep one night. an idea i had about oops the press accidentally thinks cater is leonas new partner WHAT WILL THEY DO except i never expanded on it lol,,, ive been haunted by cater and leona together more times than i care to admit

and ok i was mixing those last two up at first but that last one is in fact still sort of leona related but hes not the love interest. this time fkjlsdfklds it relates more towards that big web i keep talking about and not posting tho so maybe ill save talking about it for. That. jkfsljfdskljf

[ants-personal]

hand hurty

[katsettee]

This is something really old that I drew before the S4 special, I was really hoping for some flashbacks w/ these two and it tbh I wasn’t far off. Just not as sorrowful ofc

Fun fact the reason I didn’t post this literally months ago was because I had dialogue planned but then I never wrote it down… 💀

I remembered just now almost half a year later 👍

[pixlokita]

I heard it's your birthday this week! Happy birthday to you!

In celebration I bring you a small gift that I hope you will appreciate. I know it's not canon, but I just got so inspired I wrote this a few months ago and decided to finish it up and post it for you today. I hope you like it!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54452362

Absolutely loved it so I drew fanart inspired from it ahaihsksbdkdnd already lost it in the comments but 🫶💖 thank you again for writing this ;w; it was such a nice read 💖💖💖

[shhhsecretsideblog]

No Time To Hide

This was something I wrote for an Imagine You’re Pregnant prompt, original post here. Thought I’d make a side blog and post it here as well cos I really enjoyed writing this and might be tempted to write more birth fics

Eva opened the wooden window of her small cottage, letting the cool autumn air whip through her hair. The smell of woodland and damp grass filled her nostrils as she took a long, calming breath.

Describing herself as a green witch, Eva loved her little cottage hidden away from everyone deep within the rich forest. Coven life was never something that appealed to her; the idea of being constantly surrounded by other witches, their opinions and their magic, was torture for Eva. She much preferred her own company, free to live her life the way she wanted. Free to use her own style of magic, without the distraction or judgement of others. It was why she decided to live here in the heart of the forest. There was a river that flowed through the centre of the woodland, the ancient trees stood tall around her home, and the forest floor was packed with all manner of plant life. It was perfect; just her, the elements and Mother Nature.

Despite her preference of living alone, as time passed Eva began to yearn for something… it wasn’t romance or friendship, but the idea of a child. Children were never something she had considered, but as she grew older Eva had begun to see the benefit of having children. Someone to pass all her knowledge and wisdom to, someone to love and care for and share all that she’d learnt. She wanted to pass on this way of living, to create a legacy.

A few months ago, nine to be exact, she enchanted a local townsman - not that he would ever remember it. And now here she was, rocking side to side and cradling the underneath of her heavily pregnant stomach, preparing herself as birth drew near.

The cramps had started yesterday afternoon, small and barely noticeable at first. Eva had been terribly uncomfortable these last few weeks, suffering constant aches and twinges, so she did not immediately give them any thought. However when they got sharper and more frequent, forcing her to pause whatever she was doing, they soon got her full attention.

Not knowing how long this could take but knowing she would eventually lose mobily as her labour progressed, she collected all her preparations and got the supplies ready. Blankets, towels, sterilised medical equipment, all within easy reach in the main living room. Snacks and drinks lay available on the coffee table and a pot of hot water sat by the open fire keeping a constant warm temperature.

“Mmmnnngghhhhh” Eva moaned deeply as the latest wave peaked. She leaned forward resting her elbows on the window sill, jutting her hips back and swaying them slightly. The baby was low and heavy in her pelvis, the head pressing downwards as her body slowly opened up.

When the latest pain had eased Eva straightened and looked down at her swollen stomach, speaking lovingly towards her unborn babe. “You’re really coming aren’t you little one? I’ve not done this before so please take it easy on me.” Her child responded with a gentle kick prompting the witch to smile.

Over the next few hours Eva got into a good rhythm riding out the contractions, each one hitting sooner than the last and with incrementally more vigour. She paced, rocked, squatted, kneeled, trying to find any comfortable position to ride out the waves. Her low and heavy stomach made moving from position to position cumbersome; one hand staying on her bump or her lower back at any given time, while the other kept her supported on whatever furniture or surface was nearby.

As the contractions ramped up, creeping steadily towards unbearable, the witch’s teeth clenched tight and she growled behind them. Three minutes apart. Holding on to the back of her armchair Eva lowered herself into a deep squat. Sweat covered every inch of her body, her thin linen dress and underwear clinging to every curve of her fertile frame.

Her hips were in agony, the pressure building. She opened her mouth to wail but no sound came out, shocked into silence by a sudden burst between her open thighs. Immediately the pressure eased and Eva could catch her breath again. The wooden floor below her feet was soaked; her waters had broken.

“Oooooooh okay- We’re getting so close- Are you ready to come out now baby? I cannot wait to meet you.”

Eva stood up, cradling the curve of her spasming bump. Her bare feet stepped ungainly out of the puddle on the floor and she quickly threw a tea towel down to soak up the worst of it.

“It’s just you and me, little one. We can do this.” Eva reassured herself, rubbing circles around her swell, preparing for the intensity to soar now her waters had gone.

However, before the next contraction could strike the witch startled at the sudden loud interruption of ringing bells. Rapid and urgent, the piercing chimes echoed all around her cottage, howling through every room.

Witch hunter!

The enchantments set up around her hidden home in the forest hadn’t gone off in decades - she had almost forgotten the wards were still in place. And yet the incessant ringing immediately chilled her to her very bones, suddenly haunting her with long forgotten memories of the brutal murders of her fellow witches.

Her stomach clenched with a new, different sensation - fear. At any other time Eva would arm herself with weapons and potions and storm outside on the offence, making sure to take down her enemy before he had the opportunity to strike. But now… the pressing weight in her hips and the constant aching of her contracting womb showed she was in no position to attack, or even defend herself, if put up against a murderous witch hunter.

She had to get out of here. The warning bells throughout her home would soon reach the ears of the witch hunter and then he would beeline straight to her hidden sanctuary. She needed to find somewhere else to hide.

Distracted by the chimes, Eva was unprepared for the next contraction when it ripped across her body, rooting her to the spot. She doubled over in pain, palms planted firmly on her thighs.

“Unnnhhhhhhhhhhhh no-no-no-no……” she whimpered through strained breaths as the pain skyrocketed and her belly hardened. Panting heavily the witch ignored growing desire to bear down. Her waters had broken, she was probably almost fully dilated, if not already. But she couldn’t stay here. If she stayed, both her and her child would certainly be killed. She had to leave and find somewhere safe to deliver this baby.

After what felt like an eternity, the contraction finally faded and she bolted straight out the back door of her cottage, leaving barefoot with nothing but the clothes on her back. She had wasted precious minutes since the warning alarm riding out that last pain - she couldn’t afford to waste any more time gathering supplies to take with her. Eva took off as quickly as she could, disappearing deep into the lush green forest.

She barely got out of sight behind the first set of oak trees before another contraction was already upon her. Two minutes apart. Leaning against the rough bark of the nearest tree, Eva squeezed her eyes shut and tried hard to swallow the whimper creeping out her throat. The unbearable pressure was demanding in its silent request and her knees trembled with the effort of ignoring it. The baby was so heavy, and dangerously low. Feeling like it would just fall out if she took a step too wide. Yet she remained strong, persevering and weathering the storm in her uterus, determined to keep this baby inside of her until she got somewhere safe.

The second the pain let up an inch the witch was on the move again running as fast as she could across the forest floor. Over ferns and moss, rocks and fallen branches, thankfully the hardened soles of her bare feet were used to the uneven terrain. She made sure to keep off the main footpath and stayed hidden within the dense trees, but it made for more of an obstacle course than she’d like. With added weight of her labouring belly she couldn’t move at speed and on a few occasions nearly lost her balance. But deeper and deeper into the forest she went.

The trees became her allies, providing cover and support when she was forced to stop with each new powerful contraction… 90 seconds apart... 60 seconds apart. A large, ancient willow tree with an unusually curved trunk was the latest comrade in her fight for survival. Eva had pitched herself within the alcove of the trunk, out of sight and leaning back against the bark, lifting the weight of her hardened stomach with both hands. The long hanging branches brushed the forest floor in a circle around her position, hiding the witch behind a nature-made curtain.

“Grnnnhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Eva could no longer hold in the animalistic sounds of her extremely advanced labour. The baby was right there, nestled deep in her widened cervix, desperate to be born.

“Nooooooooo-please-baby-wait-a-bit-moreeeeeee-” she begged through gritted teeth. The next contraction started before the current had even finished and the need to push was too powerful to refrain. Knees bending and thighs widening, Eva’s body pushed of its own accord.

It felt right, pushing. It was what she was meant to be doing - to follow nature's primal instinct. And yet she couldn’t forget the very real threat of the witch hunter, still hidden somewhere in this forest, poised and primed to kill her.

The fierce contraction continued to hold her hostage. A long grunt escaped her mouth as her body pushed along with the pain.

“I can hear you, witch!” A gravelled voice taunted from across the thick forest.

Eva’s eyes widened and immediately clamped her mouth shut, biting her lips together drawing blood. Half squatting against the tree, every muscle in her body continued to strain as it forced the baby lower and lower and lower. She couldn’t stop pushing even if she tried. One of the hands cradling her stomach shakily ventured south, lifting up her dress and feeling between her legs. Through the thin damp fabric of her underwear she could feel the baby’s head begin to enter the world.

She panted silently, tears streaming down her cheeks. The forest stretched out for miles, completely uninhabited in all directions; she was all alone. There was nowhere to go and no one to help. Heavily pregnant, being hunted, and seconds away from birthing this child.

A loud snap of wood echoed from a few metres away. Eva suddenly bolted like a startled deer, consumed entirely by fear and survival, and disappeared again into the thickened wood. She ran, wide legged, the heavy boulder of a baby’s head deep in her pelvis screaming to be born. Push! Her body cried out. Stop running and PUSH!

But she couldn’t. If she stopped she’d be dead.

Another contraction ripped through her as she ran. 30 seconds apart. Her muscles tensed and squeezed as she ran, her body trying to force the baby out despite the mother’s desire to hold on a bit longer. She could barely stay upright, the raw adrenaline no longer enough to keep this birth at bay. Her legs became jelly, all she could feel was pain and pressure and fear. Eva faltered, she couldn’t go any further. Out in the open she planted her hands against the nearest tree, widening her stance, and pushed. Hard.

“Mnnnnnnnrrrrgggggghhhhhhh!!!”

More of her baby’s head began to appear behind the fabric of her tight underwear.

“Ohhhhhhhhhh-Hecateeeeeeeeeeee!” she whimpered, praying to the deity.

Her baby was close to fully crowning, she could feel it. The white hot agony of being widened and stretched beyond anything she imagined made her eyes water and throat nauseous. She retched, a dry heave, and desperately tried to catch a breath through the dual need to push and the sudden urge to vomit. The texture of the rough bark beneath her palms was the only thing keeping the witch semi-grounded and preventing her getting swept away in the overwhelming sensations currently tearing her body apart. Still bracing the tree, Eva’s head dipped as she took slow deep breaths, ignoring the instinct to push in order to ride out the sudden nausea.

An ominous whistling sound drifted through the trees carried on the wind. Eva could barely hear it over the thundering beating of her heart, that is until she heard:

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” The voice sang.

The witch hunter was close. But so was her baby... Eva felt between her legs again to evaluate just how bad her situation was. It was bad. Her underwear was stretched beyond repair as it housed a significant portion of her baby’s head, filling her cupped palm. Ignoring all the pain and her body’s pleas to push, she panted heavily and tried to think! She needed a plan to survive.

The witch hunter had physical strength, yes, but he did not know these woods like Eva did. This was her home, her sanctuary, and she knew every inch like the back of her hand. Beyond her laboured breaths and the unnerving whistling of the approaching witch hunter, Eva registered another sound nearby - the swooshing sound of running water. The river - she was by the river!

Lifting her head the witch frantically scanned the surrounding area, getting her bearings of where she’d ended up within the woodland. She was a few hundred yards from the river’s edge, about a mile from her cottage. It wasn’t an area she often visited because of…. That’s it! Okay, it wasn’t a great plan, and there was no way to know if it would work, but it was her only shot of survival.

She took a steadying breath through the current contraction squeezing her womb, fighting once more against the primal need to push. The baby’s head filled her underwear, millimetres from a full crown. If she pushed again there was no way she’d be able to stop until the head was fully born.

Whimpering through the pain Eva stood up straight, one hand staying between her legs, and she prepared herself to move. Just get to the river. She told herself before making her way unsteadily east.

The sound of rushing water grew louder as she stumbled slowly through the forest. One step. Another step. Nearly there. She knew exactly where to go, and where to avoid, desperately trying to stay focussed on her surroundings and not succumb to the agonising pain crowning between her thighs. Keep going.

“You can’t escape me, witch!” The voice threatened, getting closer.

Eva stumbled into the side of a tree, her bare shoulder scraping against the bark. Pausing, she took a brief moment to breathe through the pain. It was a mistake. The second she stopped to inhale deeply her body started bearing down again, forcing the baby down. Immediately the head came to a full crown in her damp underwear and she screamed.

“WITCH!” The murderous voice roared.

Eva turned and saw a flash of black leather through the distant trees, and it was coming her way. Cupping the baby’s head she tentatively wobbled forwards, knees trembling, staggering towards the riverbank. The blinding pain was constant, her eyes barely focussing. She had to make it to the exact right spot or her plan would certainly fail. Her footsteps were shaky but determined as she continued the last few carefully placed steps in her journey. Behind her the crunching sound of a disturbed forest floor drew ever closer.

Reaching the river’s edge Eva collapsed against the large boulder that sat on the grassy bank. She made it. Turning around against the stone, the cold granite pressed against her back as she faced the woods and waited for the imminent arrival of the witch hunter. But the baby’s head inched lower, her body stretched to its absolute limit. She wanted to cry, to howl, to scream. Instead she focussed inward, drawing on all the power from the earth under her feet, and taking a deep breath she finally, and intentionally, followed her body’s demands. Teeth gritted, a growl behind them, she pushed with everything she had. Her whole body trembled, bearing down against the pressure of the large round head slowly appearing between her thighs. The ears… a nose… she could feel it all. Her hands frantically scrambled under her dress and within seconds the baby’s head popped out into her underwear and she cupped it quickly within her palm. The relief was instant and for a brief moment Eva’s heart calmed as she held her child’s newly born crown.

The witch’s reprieve was short-lived as the approaching footsteps from behind one of the nearby trees resulted in another person soon entering the river's edge. The witch hunter was dark haired, full beard, but was not as athletic as Eva was expecting. There was sweat glistening on his temple and dripping down his neck, disappearing beneath a thick leather jacket. His mouth practically drooled at the sight of her and he gripped the long hunting knife in his hand. The lust for her death was haunting.

“At last… you’ve given it a good go, I’ll give you that, but you cannot escape your fate.” The man said as he took a step towards her, threateningly swishing the knife in readiness. “You are an abomination, evil incarnate. Witchcraft has no place here. My family has been taking your lot out for centuries. And it looks like I get the honour of not only killing you… but the next generation as well.” He glared at her pregnant swell.

“No- no! This- this child is innocent…” Eva panted, still holding the head of her half-born babe hidden under the draped fabric of her dress.

The witch hunter scoffed and took another two ominous steps in her direction through the fallen autumn leaves. Eva watched each step with a laser focus.

“No descendant of a witch is truly innocent.” He drawled, tilting his head with an unnerving animalistic incline. “Wickedness will run through its veins, there is no saving its soul.”

Eva couldn’t take her eyes off his feet, watching every step he took. She chose this location for a reason, knowing she needed to end up exactly here by the rivers edge - dangerously using herself as bait. His heavy boots crunched through the orange leaves, sauntering slowly towards her like he was toying with his prey. So close. Her heart stopped, breath held as Eva prayed to all the Goddesses for her plan to work. Then whoosh!

The witch hunter was suddenly hoisted in the air by his foot, caught in a primitive trap laid here many years ago by the previous inhabitants of these woods, whom were long dead and forgotten. The man roared as he was pulled sharply towards the sky, his arms flailing, the hunting knife falling from his hand in his shock.

Eva exhaled heavily and closed her eyes in pure relief. The steady thumping of heart pulsed around her body, beating once more now the immediate threat disappeared. The man yelled and shouted at her as he hung limply from the tree, but the sound barely registered with the witch. Her senses had been overtaken by the sudden movement of the baby, turning inside her, and an all too familiar urgent weight pressing down signalling her work was not yet over.

Eva tried to move but she was too far gone, too deep in labour, every muscle seemingly locked in position. “Unhhhhhhhh Hecate….. mnnnggghhhhh the baby- the baby is comingg…..” she whimpered, the pain splitting her in half as she was stretched once more with the baby’s shoulders. All her bodyweight was pressed back against the boulder, and she managed to sink towards the ground. Squatting deeply, her large rounded stomach rested heavily between her thighs.

“Ohhhh it’s coming…. I- need… mnghhhhhhhh I’ve got to… got to pushh...”

She ripped off her underwear as the next contraction started, freeing the baby’s head from the confines of the damp linen. With both hands ready to catch, the witch pushed with renewed determination. “Urghhhhhhhhhhhh!” One shoulder was out! Then the next shoulder. She took a breath, panting, holding the child dangling from her body. Eva became suddenly hyper-aware of the breeze and leaves, the nearby river and the crisp autumn air, all the elements surrounding them which her child was now being born directly into. Trembling, she beared down fiercely once more and within another few minutes a newly born witch entered the world.

Eva sobbed with relief, quickly pulling her daughter up over her stomach and placing her against her chest. The infant made a soft gurgling sound, her first breath, and then started to cry. To a new mother it was the most beautiful and reassuring sound in the world.

“Disgusting…. Filthy little vermin.” The witch hunter sneered with venom.

Eva had forgotten her audience and looked up with hatred at the man still swinging upside down from the tree. She held her baby tight and secure against her skin, as if shielding the child from the mere sight of him.

“You should drown that thing in the river.” He spat.

Red, blinding fury overwhelmed the new mother. With the pain gone and her baby safe in arms, pure fury raced through every pore of the witch’s body, consuming every atom of her being. Rising slowly, babe still clutched in hand, Eva approached the hanging man with eyes glowing with revenge.

“When I get free, I'm gonna enjoy splitting you from ear to ear!” He roared.

Her head tilted in observation watching the man’s disgusting arrogance in his determination to kill her despite still struggling against the rope binding his leg. Apparently unaware his threats were idle and his attempts to escape the trap were futile.

The witch bent down carefully to pick up the large silver blade that had fallen amongst the browning leaves. The man didn’t see the new mother pick up his weapon, and didn't notice the switch when the hunted became the hunter. Eva stalked silently, murderously towards the hanging man.

Before he could open his mouth to mock or belittle or challenge her, Eva’s hand swished past his vision in a flash, the blade gliding through the witch hunter's throat like a knife through butter. The man’s eyes widened, taking a heartbeat to register what just happened, before the cascade of blood erupted from the open wound and he began to choke and splutter.

Eva dropped the knife.

Delicately readjusting and shhhing the newborn cradled in her arm, she took one final look and started their journey back to the cottage. Eva found comfort in the sounds of the forest; of the flowing river, the whistle of a breeze, and the drip drip dripping of her enemies blood now pooling onto the forest floor.

[bluegiragi]

I hate to ask this cause it feels stupid but I dont wanna do a bunch of research on whatever the recent cod mw fandom discourse is,

but I saw the reblog of someone accusing you of supporting people who write sexualized pedophilia and that really is personally my only """"moral"""" with nsfw shit, (I'm a patreon subscriber and ig I just wanna know where my money's going) is THAT true?

i used to follow an artist who, 5-6 months ago made racist art featuring gaz and soap in a slave context, which I didn't like, retweet or interact with in any way. they also made under-age art of ghost soap, which I also didn't interact with . people on twitter called me out yesterday, for retweeting (months before this incident) other art they'd made as evidence I stood by/encouraged/was an avid fan of all these tropes. The art I retweeted wasn't either of these previous examples of art, but one where ghost and soap were sleeping in a bed together, as adults, peacefully. I can't emphasise enough that I have not interacted with this artist at all, for over six months. The callout in question has framed me as a close friend of theirs when, in truth, our total timeline of interactions could probably be counted on one hand, and I haven't interacted with her in so long that I genuinely forgot I was still following her.

The crux of all is this is that I did not unfollow + block this artist earlier on when the racist art was posted months ago, and then I retweeted a fic tagged with "non-con" (ghost gets soap off in a context where he can't really properly consent, they're in front of a crowd of strangers and they have to fuck, but both parties are into each other) written by a friend as I wanted to support their writing.

The pedophile claims are because I retweeted a fandom bingo post that defended loli-con without reading all the squares properly, and then immediately un-retweeted it when I properly read it. All in all, the post was on my account for maybe a few minutes.

The zoophile claims are because people say i support someone who wrote zoophilic fic and called people slurs, and I genuinely don't know who they're talking about there.

The anti-asian racism claims come from the original accusers in the callout thread thinking that I made Horangi's eyes in the monster!AU sensitive as a way of making fun of Asian eyes. The real reason is because he's a cat hybrid in that AU and cats are sensitive to light.

I tried addressing all this in a casual way earlier on in a misguided attempt to sort things out more 'civilly', and responded to an ask talking about my "support" for the artist who drew the slave Gaz art by saying the fanart in question was tone deaf and in poor taste. It wasn't enough for some people, so I'm happy to say it clearly- yes, it was racist, and the reason why I didn't want to be more aggressive is because I didn't want to extend all this mess by throwing this artist directly to the wolves - I genuinely believed them at the time when they said that wasn't that their intention, and think they should've deleted the post at the time, but not unfollowing was a decision that I made. I know now upon reflection that it was naive of me, unwarranted and frankly irresponsible to take a stranger at face value and believe they had good intentions, when the act of not deleting the post in question was evidence of a lack in remorse. In the moment, I'd thought back to my own personal experience with a friend of mine who used an asian slur in my company, who later sincerely apologised and legitimately cleaned up his act after I gave him a second chance. It informed my choice to not unfollow at the time, but there's a difference between someone you know irl for months and a stranger on the internet you've interacted with a few times. I shouldn't have coddled them in my response, and I'm sorry for not treating it with the severity it deserved. It was callous, and stupid, and indicative of internal biases that I ever thought it was a light enough offence to "see through", and I deeply deeply apologise. I promise from the bottom of my heart to do better.

That's everything so far. I didn't unfollow an artist when I absolutely should've, which i'll always strongly regret. I also retweeted a properly-tagged fic on my clearly 18+ nsfw account. I've undone both of those actions now. I hope this can be the end of it.

[sarawritestories]

Love Story (All Too Well Chapter 1 Pt 2)

Cassian X OC, Eris X OC

Summary: Under the Mountain, Estella, have flash backs to her 50 years in captivity, and losing hope she will ever see her lover. That is until a human girl shows up and give her and her brother Rhysand something they lost decades ago...Hope and in a matter of mere months she is reunited with the love of her life. The General of the Night Court Armies.

Content Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ Torture, Dub con, Physical abuse, Under the mountain trials

A/N: Special Thanks to @milswrites and @eve175 for keeping me sane when I wrote this and honestly prevented me from scraping and starting over again!

Also Two post in one day from me! I am on a roll! And probably will be taking a small break 😅😅

All Too Well Master List ACOTAR Masterlist

The sound of Amarantha’s screams was like music to Eris Vanserra’s ears. He watched as Tamlin ripped her to shreds, glancing over to see Estella holding Feyre’s body close to her murmuring something to herself that his fae hearing couldn’t pick up on. The screams ceased and Tamlin walked back to where the young fae princess and the human cursebreaker.

Eris watched as Estella a tear-streaked face looked up at the High Lord of Spring her laced covered chest heaving, “I’m so sorry Tamlin.” She lowered her head in shame, as if this was her fault.

Tamlin lifted Estella’s face to meet his eyes, “This wasn’t your fault. Okay?”

Eris moved toward Amarantha’s mutilated body as he heard Estella let out a sob, “You asked me to protect her I failed.” Eris closed his eyes and rubbed at his chest hoping the ache would dissipate.

Eris looked over at Amarantha’s remains that were mostly ribbons of flesh and found what he was looking for as Tamlin hushed the Princess of Night. “You did no such thing, Stella, now please give her to me.”  Tamlin’s voice was tender as he knelt in front of the female holding his love’s corpse. “Come on, Flower.”  

Romeo Save Me Somewhere We Can Be Alone

Eris looked over at the dais to see Estella, half of her pinned to the back of her head, the rest of her hair had fallen past her breast in soft curls. Clad in a sheer orange gown, the fabric barely covering anything, especially how his high queen had her positioned on Tamlin’s lap. Her legs spread by his thighs, her back pressed against his chest. The Princess placed her hand over the Lord of Spring and Eris noticed his thumb moved over hers and began swiping periodically. As if he was trying to bring her comfort. The heir of Autumn knew those two were friends just never realized how close the pair was.

The red-haired male moved his gaze to the rest of the ballroom, fighting the urge to clench his fist, he caught his brother’s attention. His russet eyes met with a similar pair of Lucien, his metal eye zeroing in on him. The young Emissary of the spring court’s face was impassive though his eyes, held pure resentment. Lucien didn’t let his stare linger on his brother rather it moved to his two friends at the front of the room. Guilt threatened to take hold, but the eldest Vanserra brother forced it down in a box where he kept most of his emotions shutting the lid tight. Another person that he had let down.

“Estella, darling be a dear and entertain us.” Amarantha’s voice drew Eris his attention back to the princess of night. “Dance.”

Estella froze, “Your Majesty?”

Amarantha pinched her chin, “I said dance, has whoring you around my court made you dumb.” Eris gripped the side of his leg tightly as he glanced over to the High Lord of Night, his tanned face a mask of cool indifference, Eris gazed lowered to Rhysand’s hands to find his knuckles were white as a result of gripping the arms of his chair tightly.

“No, Your Majesty,” Estella responded. “Or perhaps you would prefer to give a dance to one person.”

Rhysand cleared his throat, “Your majesty, I would be-“

Amarantha whipped her head, “No.” She looked out to the assembly in the hall. “I will accept volunteers from anyone that is not related to her.”

Eris’s feet moved of his own accord and managed to reach the dais before Lucien could. As he bowed lowed, “Your majesty. Though I have no need for a dance, I would be honored.”

Amarantha’s voice had a jovial lilt to it, “Ah Eris Vanserra. Yes, you have my permission to use her, however, you please. Rise. Claim your whore.”

Eris rose to his full height and walked up to the young heiress. He held out a hand for her, “Come now, Viper.” Estella curled her mouth in a small snarl, though her eyes were vacant, hallow as if she mentally went somewhere else. Though she gripped his hand all the same. He yanked her off Tamlin’s lap and pressed her chest to his. His arm snaked around her waist, his fingertips grazing the bare skin of her hip. Electricity bolted up his arm at the contact though he easily ignored it.

“Estella, how do you thank Eris, for claiming you this evening.” Amarantha prodded; Eris didn’t miss her face contorted in a grimace. Before she looked up her ice blue eyes meeting his warm copper ones, life had returned to her, but Eris could feel her dread, it emulated around her like a shield. Though that didn’t stop her from lifting her hand sliding it up the red velvet embroidered vest he was wearing. Or when her soft, gentle fingers slid up his neck and through the silken strands of his long hair.

She rose on her tippy toes her plump lips inches away from his own, “Thank you, Prince Eris,” Estella closed the distance kissed him. Eris slid his hand up her back, lightly grazing her spine as his hand wrapped around her raven-colored locks and yanked her back hard enough to cause a gasp from the princess’ mouth, giving the Autumn Court Heir access to slide his tongue against her. She tasted as sweet as he hoped she would. His tongue clashing with hers he could have sworn a small moan escaped her throat.

The need for oxygen and knowing that the two had put on enough of a show for their audience, Eris pulled away, with a smirk as Estella opened her eyes her pupils blissed out from their moment. Before he could ask, Amarantha, was waving her hand, “Eris you and your pet are dismissed for the evening.”

Eris bowed, and Estella followed suit, aware that it would expose her backside to the fae standing behind them. Eris placed a hand on the small of her back and led her out into the hall. The two had walked down for a few moments the sound of Estella’s skirt swishing against her skin, her hands clasped in front of her, when she asked, “What do you plan on doing with me, Princeling?”

Exhaustion weighed heavily on the prince’s body, as he sighed, “Sleep, My Little Viper. We’re going to sleep.”

This Love Is Difficult, But It's Real

The whole court ogled around and watched as the High Lords of Prythian dropped a kernel of power on the human girl that saved them all. Eris Vanserra on the other hand watched as his brother held onto the Princess of Night as her sobs softened. He could see Lucien whispering in her ear though from where he stood even his fae hearing wouldn’t be able to decipher. Ignoring the spectacle Eris walked over to one his handmaidens.

She bowed when he approached, saying nothing, he gripped the plump woman’s sleeve and began wiping the blood of the Tiara he grabbed. Once he was satisfied, he turned and walked over to Lucien and Estella. The youngest Vanserra son tightened his hold on Estella when Eris approached. “Relax, brother, today is a joyous day. We can put aside our differences for now.” Lucien growled, “Feel free to hate me again tomorrow.”

Estella’s eyes pierced the Autumn Prince’s and Eris presents the tiara glancing down at the lace covered bodice of her dress that dipped down to her stomach, “I believe this belongs to you, Little Viper.”  He smirked as he met her eyes again. She glanced at his hands and reached out to grab the accessory from him, tearing herself from Lucien’s arms as she did so. Eris took a step back and dangled the tiara above her head, “Allow me.” He motions for his index finger to spin around. She obeyed and crossed her arms, the dark red silk of her dress swirling as she did. Her scent of Ocean mist and Jasmine invaded his nose he fought the notion to bask in her scent, as he placed the tiara on top of her head. Stepped closer and noticed the sharp breath she took as his nose brushed against her ear, “There now you look fit to rule a kingdom, Princess.”

He could hear her heartrate quicken as he took a step away and once more as cheers erupted through the cave. The three of them turned to find Feyre embraced in Tamlin’s arms, ears pointed heartbeat strong and steady. “By the Cauldron.” Lucien whispered and ran up to his friends. Leaving the two alone.

“I have to thank you, Princeling.” Estella’s voice broke the tension.

“For?”

“Giving me brief little moments of reprieve from this nightmare.” Her piercing eyes met his, “I am in your debt.”

Eris was about to dispute it when in a flash arm wrapped around Estella pulling her into a tight embrace, had he not seen the matching raven-colored hair, the heir of Autumn would have prepared for an attack. Rhysand pulled away as if remembering where he had put his hands in his pockets assessed his sister. “Are you hurt?”

Estella turned to Eris only to find he was already gone. She sighed and looked back at her brother. “I’m fine, Rhys.”

He nodded and, in her mind said, The High Lords are meeting to figure out the next steps. I don’t know how long that will take. Then out loud he said, “As your High Lord, I’m demanding you head home immediately and make sure our court held up in our absence.” Estella noticed the hint of a smirk on his face, Tell Cassian hello for me, and that I’ll be home soon.

Estella’s face lit up, she kissed her brother on the cheek, “Thank you, High Lord.” She took a step, looked back toward Lucien and Tamlin. Both males embracing Feyre. Green eyes met hers and with a dip of his chin she bolted and winnowed home.

I’ll Be Waiting

The Summer night breeze kissed her skin as she arrived in front of the town home. Home. She was home. Picking up her skirts she bolted through the front door of the town home. She could hear laughter in the dining room pause when the door slammed shut. Before anyone could get up, she ran into the room. Gasp and fallen utensils were the only thing she heard before, Morrigan her hair in perfect waves and dressed in her signature red gown rose from her seat, her eyes turning glassy. “So, it’s true? It’s over?” She asked.

Estella wiped the stray tears that had begun to fall, “Yeah. Its over.” She croaked as Mor pulled her into a bone crushing hug. “Fuck, I have missed you guys.”

A pair of scarred calloused hands tugged at her bare shoulders, “Don’t hog her, Mor.” Azriel’s deep voice joked as he pulled her into an embrace of his own. He pulled away and she felt the cool kiss of his shadows up and around her body, checking for injuries. He pressed his forehead to hers, “Its good to have your home.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and guided her to a chair. He began to make her a plate of food, as he asked, “Where’s Rhys?”

Estella eyes grew wide with the spread Azriel placed before her. Taking a heaping bite before she answered, she couldn’t help but moan as the warm food met her mouth. The bountiful flavor bursting on her tongue. She looked at Mor, and Az as she swallowed her food and said, “He said there would be a meeting with the High Lord’s about what is going to happen next, no doubt trying to get Amarantha’s” She fought the cringe at the sound of the female’s name coming out of her mouth, “men collected and figuring out what to do with them.”

Amren’s cold calculating voice was a welcome reprieve, “Why didn’t you stay with him?”

Estella turned her head to the female and smiled, “He wanted me to come home, let you know he would be back soon.” Estella, smiled and looked at the table, acutely aware of the empty missing, “Where is he?”

Azriel gave her a warm smile and placed his hand on top of her own his hazel eyes ablaze with warmth and happiness, “He went to the Illyrian camps a few weeks ago. He has been spending a lot of time up there to personally train his soldiers.  He says its to make sure they have the best training we can offer.”

Estella felt guilt bubble in her stomach, “But?”

Azriel’s face fell slightly, his shadows curling around him as a form of comfort, “He had been struggling staying in Velaris for too long. It Reminded him of you and the future you two were planning. He missed you.”

“We all did, Girl.” Amren corrected. Estella’s blue eyes met her swirling silver ones, “Don’t look so surprised. Your quick wit against these overgrown bats was impressive. It was nice to not be the only one with a silver tongue.”

Estella blinked; she couldn’t remember a time when Amren had outwardly complimented her. Though she wasn’t about to question the tiny one’s motives, she went back to shoveling food in her mouth. She went for seconds and cleaned that plate too, Azriel grabbed her plate when she attempted to go for more, “Pace yourself, you’ll make yourself sick.”

“The food was awful down there.” If she got any that was. She didn’t miss the concerned glances from her friends when she arrived. She hadn’t looked in a mirror in 50 years and she was afraid to, terrified at what her reflection might reveal. How badly Amarantha’s abuse taken a toll on her physically as it had emotionally.  Estella met Azriel’s gaze and he gave her a smile, kissing the side of her head. Estella cleared her throat, “Um, I am going to go upstairs and wash up.”

Mor gave her a warm smile, one she never thought she would see again, “Your room has not been touched, your clothes have been routinely cleaned.”

Estella rubbed her chest and the base of her throat fighting the emotion threatening to come up. “Thank you.” 

Azriel cupped her cheek. Stroking his thumb against her cheek, “Welcome home, Princess.”

She wrapped her arms around Az and squeezed him tightly. “I missed you. I never thought I would see you again.”

“Likewise.” He pressed his hand on the back of her head holding her close. “Fuck.” She pulled away at the Shadow  Singer’s expletive and saw that his eyes lined with silver. “I’m just..” He took a deep breath, “I’m just happy to see you.”

“Me too, Az. I missed your face.” He laughed wiping his eyes, as she looked to all three of her friends, “Not a day went by that I didn’t think about you.” The two females rose from their seats and as if they were reading each other’s thoughts smothered the young female into a tight embrace, where she let her tears flow freely.

Home. She was finally, Home.

On The Balcony In Summer Air

The cool night air kissed Estella's skin for the first time in fifty years as she leaned against the balcony the silk of her red night gown doing nothing to prevent the chill, but the female couldn’t bring herself to care. Looking up at the night sky. She couldn't help but smile as tears pickled her pale blue eyes. This is what it felt like:

To be free

"Hello, Sweetheart." The low timbre of a familiar voice elicited a sob to escape her throat. Turning from the view of the city, she met glassy hazel eyes, bruises darkening his tanned skin under them. His wings were tucked back, but his siphons glowed.

She gave him a watery smile, "Hello, General." She covered her mouth to stifle the sobbed. Not being able to contain herself, she leaped into his awaiting arms and legs wrapping around his waist. Burying her face in the crook of his neck.

Cassian's arm held her up by her waist, his free hand pressing the back of her head holding her close, tears streaming down his own face. Estella pulled away and pressed her lips to his.

Cassian pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers, "Welcome home, Estella." And his lips reattached to hers as he took her to their shared bed. Plopping her down on the bed his hazel eyes met her blue ones he swiped a strand of hair from her face.

She cupped her hands against his face, and took a moment to look at him, his eyes had dark circles under them, as if he hadn’t had a good night’s rest in the last fifty years. He had grown out a beard the scruff rough against her skin. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”  She whispered.

Cassian cupped his hand against her cheek, tears spilling down his face. “I’m thinking that you are just as beautiful as the last time I saw you.” He kissed her forehead, “I’m thinking that I can’t believe that you are right here in my arms.” She closed her eyes as he pressed his lips to her cheek. “I’m thinking…” He took a deep breath, and she opened her eyes. “I’m thinking, how I never thought I would see you again. And yet here you are.”

Estella smiled, “Here I am.” She took his hand and placed it over her heart and he closed his eyes as he felt its steady beat. “Cassian, not a day went by where I didn’t wish to be with you. To be in your arms.” Tears threatened to fall but she forced it down. “I missed you so much.”

Cassian shushed her and placed his lips on to hers in a gentle kiss, “It’s okay, Sweetheart, I know. I missed you. More than you could ever know.” He kissed her again, “And just so we’re clear when your brother comes home. I am beating the shit out of him.”

“Cass?”

“Hmm?” He smirked.

She gripped the collar of his leathers and pulled him closer to him, he growled in approval as she whispered on his lips, “Do not say my brother’s name while you’re in my bed.” And she clashed her lips onto his.

Estella ran her fingers through Cassian’s curls as the General was fast asleep on his stomach.  Sliding out of her bed, she opened the drawer of her nightstand, grabbed a piece of parchment, and walked back out onto her balcony. Looking back once more she made sure that Cassian remained asleep as she turned back to the parchment in her hands. Opening the parchment thinking about the author of the note.

Estella awoke back in her cell. The memory of Autumn leaves and cinnamon returning to her.  She adjusted to a sitting position her brows furrowing as she felt something in her palm. Opening the note, her breath quickened as bile threatened to rise as the question, she asked the night before came to the forefront of her mind:

“Then what do you want with me, Princeling?”

One sentence gave her his answer in perfectly neat handwriting.

I want you, My Little Viper.

Estella folded the paper and threw it on the opposite side of the cell. Pulling her knees up to her chest she had to question just how far the Prince of Autumn would go to get what he wants.

Estella sighed, staring down at the swirls of Eris’ handwriting, questions swirling in her mind.  As if she summoned him with her thoughts; a note appeared in front of her. Grabbing the parchment, she unfolded it.

Will you ever truly be free, Little Viper?

Estella glared at the parchment hoping it would erupt into flames. Folding both notes, she walked into her room, placed the notes in her nightstand, and went back to bed. The General of the Night Court’s armies arm pulling her against his chest. Though luscious red hair and russet eyes plagued her dreams.

You’ll Be The Prince and I’ll Be the Princess

After fifty long years Eris, stepped into the familiar room of orange, red and gold hues of his study. Twelve heads perked up as they saw Eris step in. The familiar dark eyes of his hounds perked up and all of them ran to their owner’s side. He bent down on a knee and allowed each of them a total of one lick per dog. Unable to fight the smile from his features of reuniting with his companions. “Hello dear Friends. I have missed you dearly.”   They all swished their tails at the sound of their master’s voice.

Home after Amarantha’s fall, the High Lords met for two days in a row and after sitting in a room with massive egos, it was nice to return home to the quiet of his study.  He walked over to his desk the mountain of paperwork there. He sighed and leaned against his chair closing his eyes, only for the ice blue eyes and raven-black hair plagued his brain. He pressed his hands to his eyes and groaned.

He sat up and removed his hands from his eyes, as an idea began to form. Opening his drawer to find his favorite quill and ink pots right where he left them. Pulling them out along with the stack of parchment. Eris began to write, as soft pink lips and the scent of Ocean Mist and Jasmine lingered in his mind as his quill began swirling across the parchment:

My Sweet Little Viper. My Beautiful Mate.

It’s A Love Story, Baby, Just Say Yes

To Be Continued...

Story tags: @milswrites @eve175 @melsunshine @believinghurts @awkardnerd @historygeekqueen @mischiefmanagers @mybestfriendmademe @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris @glitterypirateduck @littlestw01f @mal-adaptive-dreams @lilah-asteria @hellodarling1357 @shadowdaddies @bxm-1012 @inkyvelvet @chasing-autumns-chill @ghostwritermia @esposadomd @anuttellaa @slytherintaco @marigold-morelli @saltedcoffeescotch

If I missed someone please let me know!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for making a YouTuber feel uncomfortable? 

Here me out please, before you all make assumptions. 

A couple months ago, I(19F) began following a YouTuber that I quickly began to love. I won’t be saying the YouTuber’s name for the sake of protecting their privacy, obviously. I started to watch their videos(which were mainly about a story that she came up with, featuring her ocs) and enjoyed them all, enjoyed the ocs, too. This YouTuber is a relatively unpopular one, but not so unpopular that they’re obscure or completely unheard of, they’re just not one of the big names in the YouTuber community. I made a few amazing friends due to us being in the same fandom and both enjoying this YouTuber’s content. One day, I decided to write a fanfic for this person’s story featuring her ocs. I uploaded the fic to AO3 and made sure to credit the YouTuber with creating these amazing ocs. I then showed it to my few friends, who all loved the fanfic. However, one day I made the mistake of showing the fic to a mutual friend(now an ex-friend but that’s a topic for another discussion) that me and the YT both share, and she sent the fanfic to the YT without my permission. Now before y’all get up in arms, I didn’t mind at all that she had sent it to the YT, in fact, I actually wanted the YT to see. However I really wish that she had asked me first, because I would have been more than happy to show it to them! Unfortunately, a few days after I sent it to her, my other friend(let’s call her M) showed me an announcement the YT made on her Discord, in which she complained about people writing fanfictions of her ocs and “using” them in her stories without her permission. She also stated that she felt like she was losing control of her story when other people wrote fanfics of it, and that whoever wrote the fanfiction “didn’t understand boundaries”(even though she didn’t have this boundary before and also wrote in the announcement that she used to be okay with fanfics of her work, but now no longer is). I deleted the fanfic the moment I saw the post from my friend, but I was a bit disappointed since I never meant to make her feel uncomfortable and only wanted to show my love and appreciation for her story, and possibly get more people to check out her story as well. Still, I deleted the fanfic from AO3. 

Now, here’s where things get interesting. A while later, I joined the YouTuber’s Discord server, where I met many people that I got along quite well with and quickly befriended. I often engaged in conversations with them about the story, and often drew fanart of my favorite character and posted it to the art channel in the server(she’s okay with fanart of her ocs, just not fanfics). Now is probably a good time to mention that while I was in the Discord server(and even before that) I often talked about the story with my friend on Tumblr(not M, these are two separate friends) who did not have Discord but loved the story just as much as I did. We often talked about the story and how much we enjoyed it, and often came up with jokes and headcanons, basic stuff like that, that any fan would do. Anyway, back to the Discord, one of the rules of the server was not to be disrespectful or rude or malicious towards other people, and another was that if you received two warnings about your behavior in the server then you would be quickly banned from the server and no longer allowed to come back. I understood this and tried to conduct myself to the best of my ability. However, one day, I found myself mysteriously unable to access the server, and when I tried to rejoin, I was again unable to. I found out that the reason I couldn’t access the server was because I had been banned due to “disrespectful behavior”, “engaging in arguments”, and making the YouTuber(who ran the server) uncomfortable. I was confused, because I genuinely don’t remember ever engaging in rude behavior with anyone. The few instances(according to them) in which I had been allegedly rude or disrespectful to people were both genuine misunderstandings, and both times I had apologized for them and did not repeat the behavior. I also did not receive any form of warning before being banned, despite one of the rules being that you will receive two warnings before being banned from the server. Still, I apologized for my alleged hostility and asked if I could come back, however the YouTuber said no, and went on to add that not only was I rude to people in the server(which, again, were both genuine misunderstandings), but that she had seen my Tumblr conversations with my friends in which I talked about her story, and said that she was “wildly uncomfortable” with how “obsessive” I was with it as well as my favorite character in the story. This bewildered me to no end because the YouTuber did not have Tumblr and had never once ever mentioned being on or having access to Tumblr, so I did not expect her to see my posts(and even if she did, I did not expect to get banned for them as they do not violate the rules of the server). It made me wonder why she didn’t just talk to me and explain to me that she was uncomfortable with me posting about her work instead of just banning me altogether and not giving me a chance to defend myself. I ended up sadly and reluctantly deleting all of my posts relating to her story, and requesting my friend to do the same. I told M about this scenario, and she was enraged on my behalf, saying that the YouTuber probably was actually upset about my having written a fanfic for her ocs, and said that she didn’t understand me being called obsessive because I acted like a normal fan would(which I agree with). Some of my other friends have sided with me as well and told me that the YouTuber was acting petty, however some of my friends have taken a middle ground. None of them entirely condemned me, but that may just be because they are biased and don’t want to hurt my feelings. The mutual friend/now ex-friend(of course) merely told me to “self-reflect” and move on from the story. Regardless, the YouTuber now has me blocked, not just on Discord, but on Instagram as well, where I also reside. 

Reasons why I think I might be the asshole: I will admit that I have a tendency to really hyperfixate on things and get especially attached to fictional characters that I adore and resonate with, so I can see why that would make them uncomfortable. That being said… 

Reasons why I think I might not be the asshole: I genuinely wasn’t trying to make this wonderful YouTuber feel uncomfortable or be “obsessive” with the story. I merely wanted to show my appreciation for it in a way that I thought was normal for online fans, which included writing a fanfic, drawing fanart, and geeking out about the story with my friends(admittedly publicly). I had no idea that these actions would turn the YouTuber off, and merely wanted to show how much I enjoyed the story. I also was never rude to anyone in the server and apologized whenever a misunderstanding rose up. I never tried to be aggressive with anyone or cursed anybody out or tried to have arguments with people, so I have no idea where that came from. 

So, what say ye, oh wise people of Tumblr? Am I the asshole or not?

What are these acronyms?

[uftopia]

posting a bit of an old rivals duo au i had years ago that i never really shared or drew publicly, but i finally wrote up a summary of what i have last night and would like to share (currently unfinished and needs polishing) i would love to start drawing it so this is just context

vvv

dream (birth name DayDream and referred to as Day) is the heir to the throne, of (unnamed kingdom/essempi). his older brother is foolish. foolish is a knight in training, hence why he won’t be king next.

for context, most people in this kingdom are fairy hybrids, some with feathery wings, some with classic wings, some like butterfly wings. in each wing category, there are preferred attributes to wings and different classes. the royal family mostly contains thick, feathery wings embroidered with magic in each feather.

day was born weak, and his wings hadn’t grown beyond age 10. they’re small, underdeveloped, and slightly patchy. he can’t fly nor hover, and the townsfolk are biased against that- who is this boy and why does he have the right to be king, when there are so many others who have gorgeous working wings? foolish is the kindest to him alongside his friends sylvee, sapnap, and george (unspoken crush lol)

(his mother was written to be puffy but that and whether the fact that she’s alive is subject to change. his father is dead.)

daydream has never wanted to be king, let alone part of the family. the kingdom hates him, disrespects him, and he finds himself unliked by some of his family members both across seas and across the hall. as pretty and lavish as his life is- he is often overwhelmed and wishes of nothing more than to be invisible. this makes the down dislike him more, calling his behavior ungrateful and selfish. his unease grows by the day. he gains new garments to wear to coronation day. he doesn’t try them on prior.

during his coronation day, after being crowned king, a big ball was held late into the night. a toast was made, gifts were given, and day offered an incredibly short speech.

foolish makes his rounds, insisting on his duties as a guard, and day gets to invite his “lower class” friends, sap and george. getting into the trouble that they do, used to making the most out of nothing, the catering table is flipped and sets off a chain reaction of multiple lights and various things breaking. expensive items and statues are now either broken or unpleasant to look at, and with day’s growing uneasiness, he flees, leaving sapnap and george to fend for themselves in the mess.

because of the commotion, he leaves unnoticed for now, grabbing a “go bag” he packed in his room months ago, and slips on a cloak and scarf to protect his identity.

here is where he begins to meet techno. day (now disliking his name) finds an “abandoned” potato farm, accompanied by a charming house in an open field. there are also apple trees and carrot patches.

day spends the rest of the night settling down and going to sleep in the bed he found, and wakes up to try and tend to the garden. he tries to farm and pluck food from the ground to eat, attempting to replace it and plant as he goes along- but growing up where servants did everything for you, he doesn’t really understand much of it. he starts to break down halfway into the day and sits covered in his cloak, shaking and crying- because what was he thinking, running away like this? he can’t survive, he won’t survive, but he most certainly cannot turn back now.

he makes the shift to dream, his preferred name.

a piglin, who he would learn is technoblade, greets him from behind and scares dream shitless, but he just comments, “i’ve been watching you mess up my farm for way too long, you’re doing this all wrong,” and begins to fix the mess dream made. he explains what he’s doing and why, and replants the potatoes. he invites dream in to eat.

they begin to live together and know each other, dream can’t bring himself to leave and techno doesn’t want to ask. after a bit techno does reveal he knows there’s a lost prince/king, and that dream is him. the conversation goes something like this:

“so, did you ever get a crown?”

“i uh- aah what?”

“you’re not very good at hiding it, being the king. your clothing has the royal sigil on them. you go by ‘dream’, assumingely from daydream. you also don’t seem to know a thing about farming, and don’t think i don’t recognize that jewelry, dude.”

“i don’t…” he cowers.

“i’m not gonna turn you in, i don’t care at all, but i figured we’d get that out there before shit goes down.”

“i thought you were kind of disconnected from that… talk?”

“i’m more connected than you know.”

there’s a couple of neighboring kingdoms that are looking for dream for the ransom money, but none are too concerned when foolish is there, a person more fit to be king. dream eventually decides to go on the run, away from techno to keep him out of trouble- after all, he’s learned to farm and sustain himself. techno stops him before he can go far by himself, “we’re a team. friends, even” dream teases him for that.

they travel, learning even more about each other, such as dream showing his pitiful wings, his relationship with george, his friendship with sapnap, how he was treated and why he did what he did- and the secrets of any royal castle you’ll go in. techno nods along like he doesn’t know.

but techno reveals he was incredibly connected to royalty, in a friendly familial way. he wasn’t related by any means, but his dear friend was king. a crow, with gorgeous green getups and a wingspan that seemed to weigh him down. he had a son with blonde hair, aged 13 years.

he was assigned knight to this kid, protecting him, but he might as well have been a babysitter. he played non stop, and they both enjoyed the casualness of it all, both swearing off of the formalities around each other. tommy hated the fanciness of it all, the rules, boundaries, lack of risk, being the heir.

dream understood.

techno explains that he was so bright and curious, he wanted his freedom more than anything. alongside this techno had begun to train him on how to use swords, bows, potions, and the soil: he believed tommy could make it on his own.

so when tommy set out one day with nothing but the weapons and clothes on his back, techno turned his back to the king, his friend, and let him go.

tommy is presumed dead. techno never forgave himself for that, that boy was like his brother- having grown up with him from age 6. techno was banished from the kingdom and immediately fired, his life spared on the basis of phil not being strong enough to kill another beloved person he knew.

techno enjoys helping dream to an unhealthy amount because of the circumstances. he feels as though if he let dream go that initial meeting, he too may have suffered the same fate by technos allowance. he and tommy are too similar in his mind to let it go.

at this point sapnap and george have fled prison and managed to make it out of the kingdom without getting caught. george, though not well off, is gifted in magic, and manages to follow dreams trail using enchantments. let me tell you they are fucking UPSET at dream for leaving them. this essentially becomes manhunt 2.0.

dream and techno enjoy being on the road together even if dream feels like he’s holding techno back. they don’t even know where they’re running to, but to them it’s the journey not the destination.

(thoughts i had but was unsure about, when furthering the story)

dream eventually gets caught again and taken back to the castle with snfs help, maybe the king title is revoked from him?? but imagine him locked up kind of like in rapunzels tower, unable to really leave bc his wings are disabled. the kingdom didn’t like him before, and now they CERTAINLY don’t

[boyfhee]

IF LOVESICK WAS A PERSON · lhs

synopsis ⋆ falling in love with heeseung is a process, like a trust fall into a bottomless pit with no fears because he is standing at the end, arms wide open (1.4k)

genre ⋆ fluff!!!

warnings ⋆ marriage talks and minor teensy bit negligible micrograms of insecurities. also ik heeseung is not twenty but in this fic he is . thank u

note ⋆ HAI OMG i finally wrote something :o i have another heeseung ficlet, it's roommate hs one so :› we'll see if i post it bc i need to rewrite it. anyway, happy reading ⁀◡⁀ < i love this emoticon

the temperature drops low, distant howling of wind singing over the city bringing along light showers as the water droplets settle on your glass window arching all the way up to your ceiling from the floor, a soft hum drew out of heeseung’s mouth as you shuffle under the blankets, his nose burying further in the crook of your neck as a muffled laughter falls off your lips at the tickles, and a warm evening nap never felt so right before this, if that is a thing. 

“we should get up,” you mumble, arms wrapping tighter around him.

he nods, pulling you closer. “yes,”

“we have assignments to submit before midnight,” you close your eyes, wrapping your arms around him tighter, as if any space in between is forbidden. as if any space left could possibly threaten your relationship you try to pull him beyond the closest proximities the two of you could be in. 

you feel his lips brush against your temple. “yes,”

“'seung,” you pull away abruptly, hands on his shoulders before they make their way up to his cheeks, your thumbs rubbing soft circles down his cheeks as you pull him back in once again. “forget it,” 

you swear, you feel him smile against your forehead. 

“see, you want me just as much as i want you,” if you could see him, if you weren’t in his arms with your face buried in his chest, you would find yourself laughing at the triumphant smile on his face. you can picture it, though, quite clearly. in your seven months of relationship with heeseung, you know the curve his lips follow when he’s the happiest, or the way they morph into the prettiest smile in the world when he gets to hold you close, or the mischievous grin that dances on his face when you surrender, giving into his tactics of having you close to him. 

and you haven’t known him for any longer than eight months, for you started dating only thirty days after your fated meeting at orientation session. you still haven’t met his friends from highschool, the ones he adores to death and the ones who, as he claims, would love you as soon as they meet you. you didn’t know about his allergies up until two months ago, and you didn’t know he preferred hot chocolates over coffee and tea. it’s fine, he told you when you talked about how little you know of him, and it’s fine, you tell yourself right now, because you know the way he breathes, the way his footsteps sound, the way he smells like home. you don’t mind not knowing anything else about him right now because you feel like if he were to meet you with a face you had never seen, with a voice you have never heard before, you would still recognize him right away. 

because your heart knows the rhythm his heart beats, every pulse echoes of him and you. 

“you should scoot closer because i’m cold,” his words get lost amidst your hair, hands pulling you closer and closer that one more pull and you’ll be on top of him, and it still wouldn’t be close enough. 

“this is the closest we can be, and—” you snicker as if you weren’t trying to do the same a few moments ago, and it’s funny how none of you want to show how deeply in love you are, yet still desperately yearning for each other as if you both are fragments of a single soul living as two. “i’m trying to get out of bed here,” 

a pause. 

heeseung takes his time admiring you, looking at you in the most lovesick way ever, as if, if lovesick was a person, it would be him. and evenings like this make you feel like time has ceased to exist because you find yourself in his arms at all the times, without change. it feels like the universe is offering you your share of fairytales and forevers because it was long due, and you wouldn't mind even if the world ends tomorrow, or the very next minute, because you wouldn’t have any regrets, for you’d be dying in the arms of your lover, inexplicably happy and impossibly deep in love. 

“we should get married,” your eyes widen and his’ mirror the same expression closely, as if he didn’t expect himself to say those words like this, but there couldn’t have been a better timing. heeseung has always been a hopeless romantic, all about love and nothing about giving up. he has had his fair share of relationships, he has seen things, has been through highs and lows that they offer, he has spilled tears on his pillows, has been the reason behind someone’s heartbreak and perhaps, his own too, but heeseung has only loved once. 

heeseung had first fallen in love when you spent your night listening to him talk about his likes and dislikes and if they were your own. the second time was when you cradled him in your arms when he lost an important game, crying on his shoulders as if it was a shared loss. the third time was when you told him i love you, and heeseung hasn’t stopped falling in love ever since. 

“ha-ha, funny,” your lips curve into a smile, much flattered at his proposal.

“i’m not kidding,” his hand ghosts up your waist. “i think we should get married, really,” for a second, you consider his words— to marry heeseung, because it sounds extravagant and everything that you could ever ask for right now. in those fractions of a second, you picture your married life with him, living in the same apartment, ever so close that you would no longer have to go over to each other’s places anymore, cooking together, cuddling on the sofa while watching movies, perhaps a mini him and you toddling around— a fraction of a second, and you go all the way from present to future, all the way from being afraid to commit to being knee deep in commitments with seemingly no regrets. 

all the way from laughing at his words to actually considering them.   

“and we’re what? twenty? yet to graduate from university and get a job?” there’s nervousness seeping through his skin from your fingertips, it’s in the way your eyes look at him with fear and hope. “we can’t get married now,” 

“i never said we have to get married now,” and his lips against yours is all you needed to snap back into reality. “i just said we should get married, be it five years later, or ten, or whenever you want,” because heeseung makes love feel like a fairytale, ever so magical and unreal that after a point, you forget how to distinguish between dreams and reality. your heart is so full of him that you can barely call it yours. as if the right person at the wrong time isn’t even something that exists because heeseung is your right person, and wrong time doesn’t make sense because every second with him feels so right. 

“and, what if i don’t want to marry you?” he doesn’t answer your question, not in words, not because he doesn’t have anything to say but because he’s thinking of something big, and before you could clarify that it was a joke, heeseung slips out his ring, the one that he got on your birthday, with its other half in your finger; and he takes your hand, slipping the ring into your finger. 

“what was that for?” 

“it’s for tell you that we’re now engaged so you cannot marry someone else,” and maybe, it’s easier for him to say it so simply, with smiles that resonate with silly intentions.

so, you take out your ring and slip it into his finger, a chuckle falling off his lips when it doesn’t go all the way down because of its smaller diameter, though you could care less. “and this is for telling you that choosing someone else isn’t even an option when i have you,” because falling in love with heeseung is a process, like a trust fall into a bottomless pit with no fears because he is standing at the end, arms wide open. 

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[madarasgirl]

Without You

Friends…I am a Mrs. now! The wedding stuff turned my head to goo...feeling very romantic (but also horny). Sorry for the sappiness in this story, which I baked on/off over the past month. This Alucard is pretty soft with his Reader until he wants to troll.

With how important a concept virginity is in the world of Hellsing, I was surprised by the lack of virginity loss fics, especially with a partner Alucard actually cares for. So I wrote one. Your decision was made. You will not forsake your humanity in exchange for an eternity with your vampire King. On the night he was to take your virginity, there will be no going back.

“Eternity is a long time, little one.” Tags/warnings: 18+ NSFW, Alucard (Ultimate) x Fem!Reader, Vladcard x Reader, Riocard x Reader. Romance, angst/comfort, emotional sex, loss of virginity, vaginal sex, creampie, oral sex, sex marathon, slight bondage & BDSM, partial mind control, anal, snowballing (?), tiny bit of predator/prey (Alu can’t help that side of himself), AFTERCARE, Alucard uses his abilities... Words: 10441

Tumblr won't let me post the full fic even though I've seen longer fics here before. So here's the link.

An excerpt is below the cut.

Dracula was crying. It felt as though he murdered you metaphorically even if you were still living, which was foolish because the sex only solidified the fact you will never turn into a ghastly vampiric monster like him. Yet the act also represented the end of something. The dream that you might always be together. Bloody tears stained his face and the silky sheets. He held you close, squeezing you into the soft mattress as he wept silently, unwilling to let you physically part from him.

You understood. Your arms found their way around his broad back and caressed soothingly in an oval track. Salty tears fell down your cheeks as you mourned with him –you mourned the fact you won’t always be there for him.

Sir Integra gave her blessing to your relationship with her servant years ago, instructing you to take care of him because he was little more than a sobbing child. Her words were nonsensical at the time. This creature of mass destruction, a sobbing child? She had been right all along.

You kept rubbing his back while you peppered his head with light kisses. You were lost in the intimacy of the moment, but when you came to, the vampire in your arms was Alucard again, peering at you lazily like he wasn’t vulnerable just now. This was the form in which you met. You loved him as the King, but also like this. You loved him in all his forms. You pet his sinfully alluring face as he purred and leaned into your touch. He loved to be touched. 

He was so beautiful it just wasn't fair. His stunning appearance and cryptic mannerisms used to fluster the heck out of you. Fortunately, after many years together, you managed to better compose yourself in his presence. Until the next time he discovered another way to pester you, as Alucard does.

The Cheshire grin told you he heard your thoughts. “I’m not reading your mind, sweet, you are telling me.” He looked too pleased with himself. You exhaled. Nothing was fair to begin with when it came to this immortal being. “Come love, join me in the bath,” you told him, making to get up from the tear-stained bedsheets when you were swept off your feet and into lean arms several feet off the ground. “Alu, I can still walk!” You laughed at his overprotectiveness.

A sound at the back of his throat reverberated as he silently drew the bath and poured in scents and products, never letting you out of his grasp while he waited for the tub to fill with steamy water. “We will rectify that by the time I am through with you.” He finally replied, lowering both of you into the water, a devious grin painting his lips.

The bubbly water level reached your shoulders. You wriggled against a toned, lanky body to get comfortable, ignoring the boner poking your rear as you enjoyed the bath with Alucard. His head was thrown back against the tiles as he felt you shift around, your vampire the image of relaxation and contentment, his long limbs hanging awkwardly outside the tub. You sighed and leaned against him, the soothing water jets the only sound in the room.

He washed you, sweat and fluids sliding off your body with each swipe of his hands. "My Queen. My love...I will protect you. Always." His voice was low, eyes lidded and rippling with intent as he scented your rising arousal.

He buried his long nose in the crook of your throat and crooned, the elixir of your blood that raced under the skin ravishing his senses. He had been obsessed with your neck since the night you met. How he loved to lick, nuzzle, and sniff your throat. Running dexterous fingers down your waist, he found slick vertical lips once more.

The vampire made his infamous landshark smile from behind you, two rows of pointy teeth glinting in the soft light of the bathroom. He lapped at the side of your jugular, a low moan sounding deep from his chest as he teased, “So tempting, love.”

You snickered, head tilting over as if to invite him in, daring him to bite as you held his head and pushed his mouth against your throat. His teeth ached with the compulsion to drink, your intoxicatingly heady aromas tickling his bestial nature…

His fangs descended, his cock twitched. Alucard growled, huffing and finally ripping away from the urge to sink fangs into your vein. “A dangerous game you play, little one.”

[redheadpumpkin]

under one of my posts with my demoman oc, someone wrote this in a reblog

so I was inspired and decided to draw a portrait with him in the disco elysium style!!

I drew this art a month ago, but delayed publishing it because I thought I wanted to draw a screenshot like from a game. But I didn't have enough imagination for the text

purple light from the eye - the effect of a professional killstreak on a weapon