#my wip: prince Snow white

[my-blessed-prince]

BREAKING NEWS IM OPENING THE PRINCE SNOW WHITE DOC

[cepheusgalaxy]

More worldbuilding:

Main countries, were the story takes place:

Araxacy (pronounced a-ra-shaa-cy)

Snow white's kingdom

Means "mother of the land of sunrise" (i made up the name with Tupi* random words)

Passing thro some difficulties after its queen died: the king, Philip Schneewittchen is overwhelmed, and that's why he's seeking for a new partner to rule

The nobles are currently having to administrate their territorries all alone, and most are very poor right now. One among the most prosperous are the von Waldeck lands, in the charge of the viscountess Katarina von Waldeck.

Snow white's future stepmother.

Tibai (ty-ba-ii)

More of an oligarchy than an actual monarchy. The Royal Family doesn't have much influence, not as much as the noble clans spared around the country. All of them reune themselves once or twice a year, to keep their decisions unified, but they are mostly, as powerful as the king. Most are allied, though, or else there would be much conflict (as it had once).

It is a coastal country, known by its huge sea power, and the different clans of nobles have privateer pirates** under their comand, which only serve to ampliate their influence. (Tibaí also means "full of water")

Privateers pirates work for different nobles, and many have issues against one another, but they manage to be as quiet as they can on their conflicts because of the nobles who haired them.

Among a privateer's contract, they have the responsability of beating illegal pirates, arresting illegal imigrants and beating Tibai's enemies in the ocean. They have many privillegies for doing this work.

Snow White and her friend, June, find out about the Queen's plans and run away from their country (after the queen finds out they are against her and tries to... hm, "prevent" them) to here. In Tibai, they meet this privateer pirate (she works for a noble clan i will go further in later) and after she finds out who Snow White is (she suspected it already) and why they ran out of their country, she offers to helping them.

Ibipyo (Y-by-py-o)

Ibipyo is a really rich country. Its name mean "land of gold" and it was a great mineration center in old times. It still is.

It is way far from Tibai than from another countries, but is Araxacy's neighboour, the oy thing separing the two kingdoms, a wild huge forest. It is the country Snow White and her friends go after Tibai.

They went there in search for possible allies against the queen, since it is close there and very powerful. When they reach there, (it is a very long way from Tibai to Ibipyo) however, the queen of the country faces a huge problem: Her oldest and only son has disappeared. The heir, prince Cauan, is somehow gone.

They manage to find him (long story) and send him back to the queen, getting her allyship. The prince also goes with them (it's now a team of four)

*tupi is a south-american indigenous language, one that influenced largely the brazilian language. All these countries were named with this language.

**Privateer pirates: licensed pirates who work for the government. (Like One Piece's.) In England, back on old days, the queen Elisabeth haired pirates and gave them permission to navigate, with a free pass among her seas. In exchange, the pirates would attack unwanted ships of other countries, like Spain's.

Some general lore and culture:

Patterns: people use many colorful patterns in popular clothing here. They mostly look like those from African culture.

Gender roles are weak here

My game, my rules: I get to decide what kinf of real world prejudices and fucked up dynamics they have, and there is no mysoginy (in this world this is a thimg from the past, they are civilized enough to have gender equality***), no racism (slavery and imperialism were inexistent in this history)

They are pretty queerphobic here, tho; this is important for conflict in my story****

In some kingdoms, like in Araxacy, it is common to rule in couples; in others, like in Ibipyo, one single ruler is enough, there is the Monarch (in this case, queen Jessica), their consort (the prince's father) and their childs and heir

***Be reminded, though, it still takes place in a 18th century based setting.

****In some stories, also, I worldbuild the thing with other settings: no homophobia, but bissexuality is seen as awful; no racism or queerphobia, but no rights for woman; gender equality and kind of accepting to queer identities, but no space for woman; etc, you name it.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Stricken 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, violence, ostricization,and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you were scarred by a storm years ago and its bringer has come to upheave your life once more.

Characters: God of War!Thor

Note: I did this finally.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You always know when a storm's coming. The hairs on your arms stand and your skin burns hot. The smell of rain is tinted by another scent. That of burning flesh and ash. Your scars raze as if struck again and for a moment, you cannot hear or see. 

Slowly, the scent of rain returns to you and the noise of the patter, sometimes more a hammering, as if to remind you of its bearer. The thunder is his war cry. The lightning his wrath. You do wonder why then it should’ve come down on you. 

You keep your hood up, your chin low. Though you hide, the villagers know who you are, they know of your misfortune. The calamity wrought into your flesh in veined scars. Your face is marked with the storm, zigzagged with lines as your left eye is struck blind and white. 

Yet it isn’t your name they whisper as you stop at a stall to buy grain. It is his. The Prince of Asgard. The might God of Thunder. The monster who made you like this. 

The air is thick, roiling with unspent moisture, and the clouds threatening in a grey ripple. You should have come yesterday. You should not have waited so long.  

You trade your coin and move on, gathering the small rations you can afford. You’ll return to your hovel, gather what you can from the garden, and check the traps for rabbits. It should get you through, though the frost does eat away at your harvest.  

As you have it, between the chirping of your disfigurement, there is worse creeping from the north. The snows have fallen heavy and whole lakes have frozen to the silt. You do not believe all you hear but you know better than to disregard the nip in the air. 

Your basket remains like but you’ve spent your limit. Your cloak shifts with your movement and you shrink lower as you near the group of adolescents feigning at battle with sticks. Their audience glimpses your passing and you hear their voices mingle with laughter. 

“It’s that crone. The burnt one,” comes a bit louder than is meant. 

You don’t stop. You don’t show that you’ve heard it. There is nothing to be said.  

“Cursed, by Thor’s hammer,” another chortles, “it is said he was forging and struck the blade too hard. In his wrath, he sent a storm. A mongrel like her drew it upon herself, broken like the sword.” 

Certainly, that too is a story to be met with skepticism. One cannot guess at what the gods do in Asgard nor why they bring only misery and chaos to Midgard. You cannot disagree that the storm was no favour to you. A curse, certainly, though the meaning can never be known. 

You move along, leaving behind their whispers and their sneers. Off to your solace, to your safe. Out of the path of any wandering soul or any blowing storm.  

⛈

A storm rages without. Water swirls and batters your small abode, built against the wall of a cave on a carpet of peat. You cover your ears as the winds whistle and wail. You quake beneath your cloak, eyes locked shut as you cower away from the tempest so much as your own memories. 

The blinding white flash and the scalding hot pain. Your fingers creep up to your chin and feel the rigged scars. You can never forget, no matter how you try. You can never be as you were. You are marked, you are damaged, and as the villagers have it on their tongues, broken. 

Even your family would not have you. You remember your mother’s wail as your father drove you off like some beast. ‘The gods have smited you themselves. You cannot remain or you will wreck ruin upon us all.’ 

Days of walking and tears, like the very storm that scarred you, a haze through which you trod until you could go no more. Until your head would split and the burnt flesh began to weep. A woman found you on the forest floor, rotting away from the corruption spreading through you. 

You don’t remember much of her. Only her touch and how she healed you. She bid you off with the cloak you wear and some food for your travels. Then you were alone and thus you remain. Not even the thieves will steal from you, nor the criminals darken your door. A curse is worth no piece of gold, no drop of blood. 

The pounding of rain relents. A chill creeps beneath the slats of your door and seep into the walls. You fill the earth with what kindling you have, the clay chimney puffing smoke up through the center of the roof. You hold your hands out to warm but find little comfort. 

You settle on your side beneath your cloak and stare into the flames. You shiver. It’s cold. Very cold. Typically, the rain chases away the chill but this is different. You can feel it in the ground. You curl up tight, clinging to your warmth, let your eyes close. Sleep comes but for lack of and not peacefully. 

Your dreams are a maelstrom. There a flames and ice, one after the other, sometimes together. Sharp pointed shards frozen and hanging, then licking tendrils of heat from below. You are lost in the land of sleep, tortured by a world built of your own fears and follies. 

You wake stiff and frigid. The fire has gone out. Not even smoke remains in the pile of ash. You move carefully, bones aching, scars tingling. You touch the hard ridging along your cheek and your fingers pulse from the cold. You can see your breath. 

How can it be? It was sunny before the rain. You get your feet under you and stand with a groan. Near the door, a strange dusting of white powders around the door, flecking in from beneath and around the edges. Snow? 

Were the tales true after all? You wince as suddenly your scars singe and sting. Ow. You recoil and cover your face with your hands, hissing and wheezing through the pain. It hurts terribly. Worse than even the first strike.  

You pull your hands away as your eyes water and you blink through your tears. You can see, at least in your good eye. There is no lightning, it is only in your mind. You shakily turn and search around. You cry out again as the agony surges once more in your head. 

Why? 

Your legs quake. Something is amiss. The frost has come and this meagre hut cannot withstand it. You take your rucksack and put what you can carry into it. Your water skin is strung across your chest and your pack upon your back. You wrap your boots with rags and your hands too. You haven’t the clothing for the cold but you will need to find something. Perhaps skin a hare or two. 

The door blows inward almost as soon as you touch it, another gust nearly bowling you over. You sway with the wind and cling to the crooked doorframe. You shove yourself out, just as quickly flattened to the wall by a flurry of snow. It dusts your face coldly and you pull up your neck scarf over your nose and pull your hood into place. 

You set off, hunched, reaching with your arms as you lift your knees over the treacherous heaps. You keep close to the rock wall. The thought of turning back stops you but it seems as foolish an idea. The hovel cannot hold for much longer. You need to get to the mouth of the cave and chance a sleeping bear within. 

You sidle along, slowed by the snow and the wind, the former soaking through your clothing as the latter whips around your hood. Suddenly, a roll of thunder, like war drums, churns in the air. The word dims and the furor sounds again; louder, closer. 

You cry out and lift an arm to shield yourself instinctively. You curl your hand into the rockface and holler even louder, closing your eyes as your memory summons another storm. No, it cannot be. Not again.  

A deafening boom shakes the ground and knocks you to your knees. You crawl along, keeping low near the ragged stone, those hidden beneath the snow jabbing against your palms. You whimper and whine, blinded by the thickening curtain all around you. 

Yet you never heard of the god raining down snow upon the lands. Only the slaking rains and the hot violence of his bolts. Never this. What sword has he broken this time? Perhaps it was his very own hammer.

The thunder overhead continues its horrid thrum as more pulses in the earth. Boom, boom, boom. You feel it beneath your hands. Your knees come down clumsily as you scramble through the piling powder. You open your eyes and still cannot see. The world is smudge in gray white and black, the sky flashing and darkening from one moment to the next. 

You cry out again as your scars burn. You push yourself back on your heels and grasp your face as you shriek. It hurts! So bad! Your eyes well and flow over. Your body trembles and collapses. You writhe in the snow, contorting with the agony as your flesh feels as if it is splitting. 

Beneath the incessant pounding comes a rocky noise. Like laughter it curdles in the air and chases after you like the steady boom, boom, boom. Closer and closer, louder and louder, the earth quakes in tandem with the cacophony. 

“I’ve found another,” the deep voice scoffs and snickers, “ah, Heimdall, you must see this--” 

The craterous voice halts and the air still. The snow drifts but the wind stops and the thunder relents, the world seeming to hum. You scratch at your face as the flames grow unbearable. You must be alight. It can be the only reason for such pain. 

The large figure, a blurry silhouette in your skewed vision, looms like a mountain. He steps over you, sliding a foot between you and the cave wall and flips you onto your back. You stare up at the sky, rolling in sheets of grey and black, the dark figure standing above, blotting out the clouds. You sob and plead. 

“Make it stop!” You beg as your hood falls back, “kill me! Kill me! It hurts.” 

He bends as your eyes roll back and he grabs your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face. He pulls you half off the ground, not a single grunt for the effort. You feel whoever, whatever it is, looking down at you; upon you. A rattle rises in his gritty throat. 

“And what are you?” He breathes. 

You feel another surge and babble, reining in your wild eyes as you quiver uncontrollably. You make yourself look at him. You shudder and shake your head. Shaggy red hair, a braided beard, and eyes so blue they jolt you. Ink marks one side of his broad face as he wears fur upon his soldiers beneath emblems of the godly lands. 

“It hurts...” you rasp, “I am dying.” 

“You...” he grabs your chin, holding you by your shoulder. His thumb extends up your face to touch the scars and you let out a shrill howl as the agony piques. You latch onto his thick arm and thrash. 

“It buuuuuuuurrnssssssssss,” you scream as your spine arches. 

“Hmm,” he hums and throws you into the snow. You continue your desperate wriggling, the fire softening but not leaving you completely, “Heimdall!” He calls out like a war horn, “get your skinny ass over here!” 

There’s a tinkle of coy laughter and lighter footsteps that land on the boulder above. Your eyes drift over and you see another shadow, this one hazier but smaller. A dusting of snow flies up beside you as the other man lands beside you. No, not a man. 

Heimdall? Son of Odin. 

“Oh, Thor, what trouble have you found--” 

“Another one,” the other growls. Not the other, Thor. The God of Thunder. The beast who marked you. “Father says they all must come.” 

“This one?” Heimdall muses as his voice spikes with humour, “why look at her. Pathetic—wait a moment... brother, is this your handiwork?” He squats to see you closer and snickers again, “why how very peculiar.” 

“Bring her,” Thor barks and spins on his heel, swinging his hammer, “we haven’t time--” 

“You bring her, brother. As you say, you are so much stronger--” 

“Just do it!” Thor snarls and a peel of thunder breaks through the clouds. “I need ale.” 

[sadlvrgrrl]

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

a potential daemon targaryen love story

full version

𝘸𝘤: 209

・❥・

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Daemon Targaryen, the rogue prince of Westeros was far from pure. He was ruthless, stubborn, arrogant, and most of all, powerful. His blood was equivalent to a dragon, forged from the fiery pits of the seven hells. He was the deliverer of chaos and destruction, and no one was able to tame his savage inferno.

All until one; her.

She was the epitome of ethereal, a beauty so delicate, so pure in a way that she was too perfect for this world— too perfect for him. She was an angel forged of the purest light with hair as bright as the moon, skin as white as snow, and her eyes—

her eyes held magic.

Full of light, full of innocence, full of stars.

Starry eyes that had him hypnotized.

Starry eyes that had him vow to do anything in his power to keep their light kindle endlessly. 

Starry eyes that made him stumble, but it was her smile that made him fall.

She was a blessing from the gods. A wish upon a shooting star. If he could, he would tear the whole world apart just to rebuild it brick by brick to a standard he deemed worthy of her existence. Worthy of her light— worthy of his light.

(𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒅...?)

a/n: posting this because my aemond story is taking longer than expected ._. this is not my best work (because i dont have any) but i do love me some daemon, and surpriiiiiseee, this is another hotd x lotr crossover because i am obsess and unhinged. i do not know if i will be continuing this story (reason: this is a pretty old wip that i've been kind of avoiding for a while now and the writing is kinda yucky too) but we'll seeeeeee :)

update: guess who's posting the final version...(not me) jkjk, I will be in a few days haha, just gotta do some rewriting here and there and boom; signed, sealed, and delivered it's yours (to read ofc...pls dont steal my work, that is a big no no)

update: full version is posted!

[madds-is-ace-trash]

Ok hear me out!

So um I had a fic idea and the brain worms took over ima be posting it here and if all goes well to ao3 Chapter 1 of the fic is below

Summary: After an accident kills everyone the boy has ever known and injured the god of time, clockwork rushes to the only place he’s knows will take the now boy king. Gotham takes the now 6 year old Danny in to her arms, her child of the stars. And she’s going to ensure he gets the life he always deserved.

Mother of the storm and her star child

Chapter 1: In which a ward is gained

Clockwork clutches his side, the toxic green substance that makes up his being spilling on to his purple robes. As he flies over a city with a sky set dark over the horizon. Despite his very core feeling like it's about to split at the seams, he dare not falter. For in his arms is a bundle of blankets he holds his king. Much smaller than he was just an hour ago as his body rebuilds itself.

All he can do is pray that his old friend cand lend him a hand. That she’ll take in the only thing he has left to live for. The young boy has nowhere else to go and clock work has his own wounds to address. As he lands at last falling to his knees, wincing as his wound lets out another puff of its toxic excision. He sets the boy down in the alley and knows that she'll find him soon.

As thunder roles over the dark city, from the shadows a figure steps out into the dim light. Her skin is a dark purple, her hair seems to be made of the very storm that follows her wherever she gose. Her eyes a yellow like lighting breaking from the dark sky, dressed in black dress with a shawl made of stars. “ Gotham, you look well old friend,” CW manages to spit out threw pain with a weak smile on his face.

——————————————————

“Clockwork?” her voice booms as the thunder rolls, her eyes narrow at the bundle in his arms.

“Let me explain, Pleas old friend I need your help,” he begs weakly, his form shifting yet shaking. He takes his hand off his side to move the blanket, in his arms a child no older than six(6). He's skin and bones, he's so small, smaller than he has any right to be. His raven hair is messy and his clothes 5 sizes too big. “ Please old friend, he has nowhere left to go, no kin to return to,” clock work says as his form shifts to that of an old man sending another green stain against the pavement. “ I am all that remains yet i'm afraid I must lick my own wounds if I wish to live to see him threw”

Gothem eyes her old acquaintance barely holding himself together, then her eyes drift to the small boy that lay in his arms. Her expression softens, she leans down and takes the wad from the ghost. And then like a wave of ice that chills her to the bone she realizes what she is holding. “ The boy king? Who? WHY!” her eyes slit and the thunder grows stronger. The wind begins to wip as she eyes the small bae that lay in her arms.

“His parents they…… they found him,” he snarls, “ They Hurt him….. The lab is no more it…. It took everyone, all I could do was save him but” he takes a heaving breath,” I could only do so much.”

Gotham seemed to understand what he ment, she looked at the boy still asleep with sorrow in her eyes, “ Please dear friend” clockwork begged once more, “ give him the life he always deserved, I cant keep him, not like this.” His throat felt tight as his eye stung, he can't cry not now.

“With everything I am, the boy will be safe,” The thunder low and distant like a spring storm, “ go now heal and so you may return to him once more” She smiles as she sees a peak of the boy's eyes as he dreams, blue, a beautiful vibrant blue. “ I know someone who will love him as his own'' Clock work fades his form relaxing as he disappears into the night.

The sky begins to cry but not in sorrow but joy, the prince has a new home and Gotham will insure he’ll grow, to be the king that the realm deserves. As she turns him to shield him from the rain a ring of light washes over the boy, his hair is white as snow, freckles make the stars, and a crown rest upon his brow. “ Rest now, my child of the stars, here you'll find you belong.” With that they boy renters to his human state. Now she just has to figure out how to induce him to her other children.

If y’all like it I’ll keep going also thinking about sketching what I envision my version of Gotham looks like. I like the idea of her being a storm spirit and that’s why Gotham always rains.

I did it [part 2]

[kategarts]

*Arachnophobia warning under the "keep reading", just to be safe. Though IMO it's cute as a button :'D

I still got a lot a lot of other art that's just been sitting as WIP files in my drives but here's another spidey OC, this time the young prince. He's a sweetiepie. Characters like Snow White, Nia Teppelin and Asriel Dreemurr where I think very strong influences.

the IRL spider for reference under the cut:

[spaceprincessem]

wip wednesday

thank you to everyone that tagged me in the tuesday thing @spotsandsocks @wildlife4life @heartbeatdiaz and everyone that tagged me today @devirnis @prince-buck-diaz @shortsighted-owl always nice to get my shit together so here's a lil surprise. a snippet from buck sees ghost fic and a snippet from the catching fire au which i just started

buck sees ghost “Fancy meeting you here.” Eddie grins beneath his mask as he props himself up over Buck. “Funny,” Buck says as Eddie helps him up, “I was just going to say we’ve got to stop meeting like this.” Eddie’s snort of a laugh is drowned out by the crackle of their radio and Bobby’s voice asking for their location. Eddie answers first and Buck takes the time to look at the new hole in the ground. It’s mainly condensed to the left side, taking up a quarter of the hallway space, but who knows how stable the rest of the floor is moving forward. He feels a shiver crawl down his spine, a sudden chill that makes all of his insides turn.  He looks up to see a woman dressed in a white nightgown, ripped and burned at the edges, staring at him with wide, pleading eyes. There’s a patch of skin on her face charred right down to the cheekbone all the way to the collarbone and Buck nearly chokes on the sudden, heavy scent of burnt flesh. She points to the door on her right and Buck takes the hint, sprinting forward just as he hears Bobby say, Evacuate immediately. “Buck!” Eddie yells after him, reaching out, but missing Buck’s coat by inches. “Buck, we have to go!”

and

catching fire au Every time he tried all he could think about was the look of betrayal on Buck’s face when Eddie told him the truth. The weight of President Gerrard’s threat that hung in the air like a thick smog ready to choke him. “Proud family, proud District,” President Gerrard tilts his head to look at Buck, who is watching both of them cautiously, “and the boy with the bread.” All he can think about is the never ending pile of knots twisting and writhing like snakes in his chest. The ones that taste like guilt and confusion and want. All he can think about is that pull that still aches to be close to Buck.  Of course, Eddie sees him every now and then. Walking through town or when they pass each other between visits with Bobby. Their conversations are stilted and awkward and Buck never looks him in the eye for longer than a second. He looks just as bad as Eddie feels. Dark circles, skin paler than normal, still walking with a slight limp because he hasn’t gotten used to the new leg in the snow. Eddie’s hands twitch with the need to touch and soothe and sometimes he catches Buck swaying closer just before he turns and walks away. 

tagging @alyxmastershipper @buddierights @rogerzsteven @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @elvensorceress @renecdote @hippolotamus @ebdaydreamer

[cordeliacordate]

WIP Wordplay :)

tagged by @anchoredarchangel 💕 i included one from dynasty just for u <3 which also makes me miss that 'verse, so...SLKDJS

RULES | FIND YOUR GIVEN WORDS IN YOUR WIPs, POST A SNIPPET CONTAINING THOSE WORDS, AND THEN TAG OTHERS WITH THREE NEW WORDS

my words | night, warm, & power ✨

As with all previews, please note that things may change between now and when I post them. These are raw snippets from unfinished chapters. All of them are Jacegan.

night | the next great american dynasty

Jacaerys Targaryen-Strong was always born to live a thousand different lives, sink into a thousand different loves, and experience a thousand different emotional journeys.  It’s what a dreamer does.  My name is Jace, and this is my ovation! The prologue cuts out, his mic clicks on, and Jace steps out into the night to begin the next chapter of his life.  Was it all an illusion?  And if it is “Will you still dream with me?” 

warm | the Wolf's Omega

“I’ve taken precautions,” Cregan says, deciding honesty is best. He removes his trousers but leaves the thin cotton braies beneath. “I would not harm you, omega. Maester Kennet has given me a tea that will suppress my knot when we—”  “Fuck?” Jacaerys cuts in, his tone sharp.  Cregan is shocked at the harsh word spilling from the boy’s lips. “When we lay together,” he says carefully. He’s not sure what he expected, but the omega has completely changed over the course of a single afternoon. Gone is his warm smile and eager optimism. It’s been replaced with cool, bitter resentment—and Cregan does not like it.  Jacaerys doesn’t even look in Cregan’s direction. He turns the page of the tomb in his lap and keeps his eyes cast downwards. “So I am to be your broodmare?”  Cregan chokes. 

power | the Pact of Ice and Fire

In the same moment that Jacaerys’ arrow flies free, the direwolf launches itself forward with its powerful hind legs. It leaps into the air with a snarl, and Jacaerys’ breath catches in his throat—but the wolf and the stag are ships passing in the night. As the prince’s arrow strikes the white hart in the shoulder, letting crimson tears from its withers, the direwolf descends upon an enormous boar that Jacaerys hadn’t seen before.  It’s huge—much bigger than the ones they rounded up during their hunt so many weeks ago, and Jacaerys is frozen as he watches the direwolf tear into the beast’s flesh as it squeals, its sharp tusks piercing the side of the wolf and slaying it atop the snow. 

power | untitled gift for @angkis

Jacaerys was born to suck cock.  His lips drive Cregan insane. They’re fat and swollen as a baseline. Full and soft; like he spends hours soothing his plush grin with chapstick, dragging his wet tongue back and forth across the pink flesh to keep his mouth sweet and kissable. His smile is so lush, they’ve been approached on more than one occasion while out on the town together so that a glittery little twink with a yoga mat tucked beneath their arm, or a curvy girl with red lipstick and her hair tied up into space buns can beg for the name of whoever did Jacaerys’ injections.  He always laughs it off, but Cregan knows the truth—Jacaerys doesn’t need injections. His mouth is a power all its own. It was sculpted by the gods…and it was done for the sole purpose of fellatio.  There’s simply no other explanation. 

Tagging @delcatty & @alexagirlie with the words dark, hunger, & hard (no pressure, though, obviously!)

[themousefromfantasyland]

I need help.

For those who don't know, I have a WIP about fairy tales, both the original fairy tales and the post-Disney versions.

It's about a fictional world called Nemolia where fairy tales and children's stories tropes are just a part of day-to-day life.

Princesses are elected officials and academics, Fairy Godmothers are princesses with an extra degree, Prince Charmings are members of the military, wishing upon stars is an official religion, and magic is studied as a science.

In my world there is a specific kingdom called Avamoor, that is meant to be the main setting.

The idea is that this kingdom was founded by what is essentially, a retelling of a fairy tale. The problem is, I have no idea of which tale to use.

So, I ask this question: Which Fairy Tale is iconic, universal, and foundational enough to be the founding story of a fairy tale kingdom?

I have some ideas of my own, but I want to hear other opinions.

Cinderella is universal and iconic, but I want to use her in the current era of this setting, so I can't use her as the starting point of Avamoor.

Snow White is another possibility because some of my main characters do have ties to dwarf-like beings. And because Snow White is the first Disney movie ever, it would be a nice little Easter egg. But I wonder if using Snow White as the founder of Avamoor is too Disney-like.

The Frog Prince is also another possibility, as a homage to Grimm's Fairy Tales. For those who don't know, editions of the Grimm's fairy tales always start with the Frog Prince. But I doubt if there's enough material to make an interesting retelling.

As I said I need help with possible tales.

It also helps, if the tale is about princesses, princes, and curses to tie in with the themes of the actual story.

@ariel-seagull-wings @princesssarisa @tamisdava2 @angelixgutz @amalthea9 @the-blue-fairie @adarkrainbow @theancientvaleofsoulmaking

[wings-of-sapphire]

Snow White rewrite

Hello loves, so I’ve been procrastinating this for a WHILE but I was like fuck it I’ll post what I have so far

Remember like fifteen years ago when I said I’d post my Snow White rewrite? Well, I want to get at least some of it out to get some traction going, especially since Disney’s live-action Snow White is coming out soon and I’m… intrigued to see how it goes.

Anyways, here’s my WIP rewrite— not finished, may be subject to edits later, I have reasons for what I’m doing trust me

Red as the Rose

A Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs rewrite (revamp? Idk)

Meet Snow Dysni.

Her stepmother is not the nicest person.

She’s never met her mother, as she died shortly after Snow was born, so she wasn’t exactly well-versed in motherhood knowledge. But she was pretty sure stepmothers aren’t supposed to kill you.

Some backstory.

Snow is the princess of the kingdom of Grimm. Grimmians are a wonderful people. At least, Snow assumes so. She hasn’t interacted with them much.

Her birth mother was allegedly murdered by an enchantress, and then her father sort of freaked out and banned all magic. All the neighboring kingdoms started to follow his rule, forcing all the magical creatures to go into hiding. Most fled to the Twists, a cursed forest full of the Wrathborne– nightmares come to life. Yeah. Magic, from what Snow has learned, isn’t the greatest.

But still, being cooped up in this castle all day isn’t really the life. Snow knew all the staff’s names by heart. But there’s no teens in the palace, and her only friend is this cat that roams the castle grounds sometimes. Snow named her Shanks. She brings Snow flower snacks sometimes.

It’s just meetings and being locked up in her room. Her stepmother says it’s unbecoming for a princess with such little social awareness to be among the people. Snow’s only meeting royals and nobles. Like today, a meeting with Isel, the eastern kingdom, and their prince, Florian White.

Snow talks with Florian. When he laughs, it makes something inside her bubble. Maybe he poisoned her.

Oh, no. He poisoned her!

The royal nurse clears Snow, though. I guess Florian can pass for now.

There’s also Huntsman, whose real name Snow doesn’t know. She tries to talk with him sometimes. He doesn’t really talk otherwise.

But one day, Huntsman tells Snow that he can sneak her out of the castle for a night. She agrees. Because obviously!

Huntsman takes Snow out to see the Grimmians. To see her people! Away from her stepmother. Queen Isla Grimhilde. Snow doesn’t know why her father puts up with her. She really doesn’t.

They end up in the Twists.

Snow asks Huntsman what they’re doing here.

He pulls out a knife and stabs her. Snow screams, blood splattering the floor. She hears a Wrathborne near, then something tackles the Huntsman. Probably. She can’t see anything, too blind from pain. White, searing pain. All she can think of is blood. Her blood.

Snow sees the Wrathborne fighting with the Huntsman. Snow gasps out in pain and starts to stumble away. She sees a cottage in the distance. She falls to the floor. She hears voices above her.

She passes out.

Snow awakens up to grumbling. Something about red on the sheets. She blearily opens her eyes. She see six noses poking out on top of the bedframe.

She tries to scramble up. Someone cries out. It took Snow a moment to realize it was her. Red-hot pain shoots up her back.

“Woah, woah, steady there!”

Snow stares at the man beside her. Er… child? Man the size of a child?

Oh. Dwarves!

“You’re dwarves!” she croaks out.

The dwarf laughs. He introduces himself as Doc, the eldest brother. He explains how their nephew found me outside, bleeding, and had to go, but notified Doc and his brothers about her. They treated her.

Snow tries to scream, but a hand claps over her mouth. Snow sees another dwarf in front of her. He looks like he wants her head.

“Quiet, lass! You’ll attract Grimhilde’s soldiers!”

“The heck I will! You’re illegal magicals! You should be arrested!”

“We saved your royal life! Show some gratefulness!”

Aaaanyways. The seven introduce themself. There’s Doc, the oldest and the kindest. Happy, who’s… happy all the time. Snow has a suspicion he may be on drugs. Grumpy doesn’t like her at all. Dopey— at least she thinks that’s his name… maybe it’s Mopey but that doesn’t seem right— is mute and signs. Snow unfortunately doesn’t know sign, so his brothers have to translate.

Uhhh there’s Sleepy. Mate, same. Sneezy… please stay away. Bashful Snow doesn't know much about, as he tends to stay away.

Apparently there was an eighth named Raspulstin or whatever… Snow wasn’t really paying attention. She’s too busy analyzing everything.

Magic was evil. Magic killed her mother. Magic is what creates the Wrathborne, the evil spirits of the Twists.

But these magicals… saved her.

[my-blessed-prince]

This is from @magic-is-something-we-create

It is for Lord Rian, who is the evil step father in Prince Snow White.

Fun fact about men’s fashion in this wip, but all hair is considered to be uncleanly, and not of the delicate masculine fashion. However, beards are of the highest fashion when well-groomed and decorated :)

[halfpintpeach]

My Masterpost

Hi hello welcome! Here's a masterpost of my AO3 works and Tumblr Tags :)

Current Ongoing:

Glacial - (Andriel, Rate T) Apocalyptic AU set in an ice age. Lots of cuddling (just for the warmth and shared body heat of course)

Faerie - (Andriel, Rated M) Fantasy AU, Andrew's best friend is a sentient plant

Game of Survival - (Kevin POV, Rated T) established secret relationship Andreil, aged up Andreil, big brother Neil (but he's also a dick)

New Beginnings - (Andreil, Rated G) stardew valley AU based off of my twitter thread!

All my series and one shots and tumblr tags are below the cut!

Professor Neil series:

An AU series where pre Palmetto, Neil was caught by his father and ended up loosing a leg. He is now a Math and Linguistic Professor and just so happens to be married to professional exy player Andrew Minyard.

Necessary Losses - (Andreil, Rated T, 9.7k) Neil bullys Kevin, Neil and his grad students go to an Exy game, Neil's mobility support dog is named Duke and she's everything to me thank youuuu

Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day - (Andriel, Rated G, 3.6k) Neil has a rough day at work, loving husband Andrew stops by

It's Alright, It's Okay series:

A collection of post canon fluff pieces

Soft Mornings (Gray Skies) - (Andreil, Rated M, 1.4k) lazy mornings, cuddles, implied smut at the end

My Home Will Never Be A Place - (Andreil, Rated G, 3k) Andrew POV, soft boys

Take This Heart, Put Yourself In It - (Andreil, Rated T, 2.9k) Andrew's birthday, Neil surprises him, Matt and Andrew are roommates

Petrichor - (Andreil, Rated G, 1.8k) rainy days, Neil loves the rain

Arlo Minyard-Josten series:

In collaboration with @prince-peachie, Arlo is Andrew and Neil's adopted son.

Can You Hold Me - (Andreil, Rated G, 1.1k) Toddlers are heavy, idiots in love, Andreil are the best parents

Arlo and the Baseball Surprise - (Andreil, Rated G, 1.4k) Arlo is a prankster, Andrew has no sympathy

One Shots (updated with most recent at the top):

Sports, Balls - (Andreil, Rated E, 9.4k) Absolute filth. Background Minyard-Josten Rivalry.

Rough Draft - (Andriel, Rated M, 12k) 5+1 of the professional years Andrew and Neil aren't on the same team and the one time they finally make it

To Run - (Andriel, Rated T, 1.5k) vent fic about anxiety and panic attacks, Neil runs but always calls Andrew

Hey, Pumpkin - (Andreil, Rated G, 4.3k) Andrew gets arrested when fans spot him driving around known rival Neil's car. Nevermind that they live together and are dating

Aquascape - (Andreil, Rated G, 2k) Mermay 2023, Andrew and Neil are the size of clown fish.

Think With Your Head - (Andreil, Rated E, 9.6k) Andrew has a wet dream missing Neil

Cruel Summer - (Andreil, Rated T, 3k) AFTG Mixtape 2023, based on a Taylor Swift song, sneaking out, secret relationships

Fireside - (Andreil, Rated G, 4.7k) The Foxes take a winter vacation

Gorgeous - (Andreil, Rated M, 6.7k) 5+1 of others finding out Neil's pet name for Andrew, implied sexual content, POV alternates

Tearing My Seams, Lucid Reality - (Andreil, Rated E, 7.4k) SMUT, bottom Andrew, use of pet names, let Andrew be worshipped

Memento Mori - (pre-Andreil, Rated T, 4.2k) Neil is a grim reaper and Andrew accidenly stumbles upon him taking a soul

Covenant - (Andrew & Aaron, Rated G, 1.4k) Aaron is the first to reach out, and Andrew is the last to let go

What A Feeling - (Kevin & Andrew, Rated G, 900) Andrew and Kevin talk post Kevin's graduation

WIP Wednesday Tags:

ALL AFTG WIP Wednesday asks - what it says on the tin

ALL wips - I am so so sorry if you click this, it's a mess

Dragons AU - Andrew is a dragon shifter and Neil is a witch

Rivalry Same Team - Andreil secretly together and percieved as rivals, Andrew joins Neil's team

ASSassins - that one post about assassins trying to bone and just pulling more and more conealed weapons off of themselves

Snow White AU - vaguely Snow White inspired, no dwarves though I'm sorry

Arranged Marriage - historical fantasy AU, falling in love

Tattoo Shop/Flower Shop AU (Renison) - Tattoo Artist Allison and florist Renee

Ice Age - A glacial period apocalypse where everyone is living in another ice age

Hades and Persephone AU - exactly what it sounds like!

MerNeil - Andrew is a painter who falls into the ocean and is saved by a merman

Tutor Neil - Professor Neil prequel :) Math tutor Neil, getting together, pining, service dogs!

The Tunnel - AFTG supernatural beings AU with some provate school aspects

Teacher/Actor - Andrew is an English teacher and Neil is an A-List actor

[kazoosandfannypacks]

👑 kingdom trap

👑 kingdom trap

This is one of my Cygnet Scholar (Hope Swan Jones/Gideon Gold) AUs, and it's set in the Enchanted Forest as a kind of "no curse au."

In this version, Hope grows up as a princess, the granddaughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. Snow and Charming only had one child, Emma, who also only had one child, Hope, and Hope has spent her entire life preparing to take the throne. However, by some magical miracle, Snow White has a child in her old age, and it's a son. By the laws of the kingdom, the throne that Hope has been preparing her entire life to inherit now falls to her infant uncle instead.

Rather than do something stupid like plan to assassinate a baby or whatever a twisted mind would do in one of these stories, she realizes there's more than one way to be a queen— all she has to do is find an eligible crown prince. Fortunately for Hope, there happens to be a prince who fits that description in the next kingdom over: Prince Gideon, the son of Queen Belle.

The only flaw in this plan: around the same time Emma married Hope's father, the once legendary and vengeance-seeking Captain Hook, Princess Belle of their neighboring kingdom married the elusive and nefarious Dark One. Although both have since reformed and claim to have mended their villainous ways, there's still a tense hatred between Captain Hook and his crocodile, and their two kingdoms have ceased all trade and forbidden all communication between themselves, at risk of a full fledged war breaking out between them.

But when Hope sets her mind to something, there's little anyone can do to stop her, and she sneaks out of her castle on a secret diplomatic mission: to win the heart of Prince Gideon and find a place to rule on the throne of her father's sworn enemy.

here's a little snippity snippity of it!

 "What did you say your name was?" Gideon asked.  "Hope," she said, then rolled her eyes a little, "Princess Hope. Of…."  "Misthaven," Gideon finished when she hesitated, "I was unaware you were in attendance this evening."  "And you are?" Hope asked, though he could tell she already knew.  "Prince Gideon," he said, with as much regality as he could, "of, well, here." He shrugged and gestured to the castle behind them, and heard her laugh a little.  "I guess someone's been studying interkingdom relations," she said.  "And from what I've heard," Gideon crossed his arms, "Misthaveners haven't been welcome in this kingdom since your father took the throne."  "Really?" Princess Hope asked, stepping closer to him with a coy smile, "because from what I've heard, you don't seem to care for the rivalry anyways."  "Rivalry, or war?" Gideon asked.  "It's hardly either," she said.  "Regardless," he said, "if it's not war, entering that ballroom could still be the start of one. Why would you risk attendance at this ball?"  "The same reason you don't seem to mind that you're running late for it," Hope said, "I'm taking my story into my own hands— and I need your help to do it."

WIP ask game!

[sensitiveheartless]

ten first lines/last ten fics meme

Tagged by @feralrookie! (Thank you!! :D)

I am also going to use a few of my current WIPs here because a) I don’t have 10 published fics and b) if I include Torn to Pieces in this I’m going to want to tear my own face off, because from the very first line it is painfully obvious I hadn’t read Storm Bringer yet alsksjdjfjf

1. 5 times Chuuya attempted high school romance tropes + 1 time Dazai realized what was going on (WIP)

During the first incident, Dazai almost convinced himself was hallucinating — it was only later, when his bottom lip began to bruise, that he truly internalized what had happened.

2. High school play(Snow White) AU (WIP)

Of course, the one time Chuuya got the chance to play a lead role, Dazai had to be there to ruin it.

3. Vampire Chuuya oneshot (WIP)

“Executive Nakahara Chuuya-kun has been hit by an unidentified ability.”

4. Skyline Pigeon (WIP)

Silhouetted against the stark blue sky, an albatross soared in gentle circles without so much of a flap of its wings, blissfully unheeding of the violence below.

5. My rider keeps horsing around with the Demon Prince! (WIP)

My name is Sheep, and I am a horse.

6. An Unsent Letter

The letter was spotted with dried smears of blood and odd drops of water.

7. Dazai and the Moving Detective Agency

Once upon a time, there was a boy who caught a falling star.

8. This is how it feels to take a fall

There was too much blood.

9. Plate :(

Crack.

Dazai stares down at the chipped plate in his hands, unblinking.

10. Zut alors! I have missed one!

The ocean was a lot of things, but above all, it was vast, and generally quite silent.

Open tags on this one! :D if anyone sees this and feels like doing it, consider yourself tagged!

[squillwrites]

squillwrites - my writeblr intro

about me

hello, you can call me Veerle. I'm a 20-year-old from the Netherlands who finally made herself a writeblr blog because I need more writer friends and also to have a place where I can ~unapologetically~ rant about my WIPs.

my interests outside of writing are theme parks, musicals and (animated) movies.

don't really have a favourite genre to read but I do love fairytales, historical fiction, fantasy with a romantic (queer) sub-plot.

most of my WIPs either take place in a medieval fairytale setting or are about superheroes in a contemporary city.

I'm still pretty hesitant to put myself out there but I guess ultimately I just want to share my passion with like-minded people :)

also, I write one-shot fanfic on the side to practice my writing skills.

my current WIPs (warning: it's a lot)

De Kamenierster

De Kamenierster (which means chambermaid in English) is about a thief who gets caught during a heist, which results in her becoming the princess's chambermaid.

A Story of Drue

The prequel to De Kamenierster. It is about prince Finnian whose parents, the king and queen, hire the notorious thief Evander to protect their son. While travelling to the capital of the country, Finnian and Evander fall in love.

Apples and Arrows

What if the huntsman from Snow White and Robin Hood fell in love?

The World of Wendy Finch / My Name is Levi Odell / Villain's Side of the Story

Written as a trilogy. The first book is about Wendy, who trains to become a superhero after accidently gaining superpowers, all the while dealing with a mysterious villain and slowly falling said villain without knowing her secret identity.

The second book is about Levi, who is searching for his sister Jet together with Wendy. The third book is about Jet. Her fall to villainy and her point of view while she falls in love with Wendy.

numerous short stories

That's all I can think of to write for an introduction. Expect a lot of rants about my WIPs and other writing-related stuff on my blog. xx

[writingmoth]

hey there! i'm ren (or moth or nemo), 28, webdev by day, writer & wannabe artist by night. pronouns are he/they. i'm aroace, fan of fantasy, mystery and some sci-fi. when i'm not here, i'm usually playing ffxiv, destiny or league, or whining about how much longer i will have to wait for the next dragon age (surprisingly little now??? whew!). favorite books are lotr, asoiaf, the broken earth and more.

links: twitter | bluesky | goodreads | ko-fi

current projects:

#fantasy romance wip

romance | fantasy | faeries | creepy forest | monster li | post-apocalyptic | adult

a young boy is saved from the wild hunt by the god of the forest. more than a decade later, he is a hunter with the weight of his dying village on his shoulders when a second meeting with the god of the forest changes everything - again. (intro | tag)

#anti snow white

fantasy | post-apocalyptic | mystery | faeries | creepy forest | fairy tale-inspired | revenge & redemption

in a world that was once covered and ruled by a magical, bloodthirsty forest and its monstrous inhabitants, a young prince is exiled to its borders for mysterious reasons. ten years later, he finally manages to escape. his goal now is simple: get his throne and kingdom back. (intro | tag)

#sunset prince

romance | fantasy | court intrigue | enemies to lovers | family bonds | war

the youngest prince of a bloodthirsty empire is kidnapped while returning from a diplomatic mission, unraveling a web of conspiracies and secrets. (intro | tag)

#dragonbond

fantasy | dragons | court intrigue | family issues | war | revenge

in a world where dragon bonds are fueled by magic and emotion, a forgotten prince's hidden rage is the spark needed to start a war centuries in the making. (intro | tag)

you might also be interest in:

my interactive fiction games

common bonds: a speculative aromantic anthology (i have a story in there!)

the aroace database of characters in sff (i'm the dev for this)