#titles are subject to change

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Drifting - Passive floating in a river, thinking about letting himself drift away while the sun occasionally peaks from behind clouds. Before a decision is made, Dream interrupts him. Sun appearances coincide with happier thoughts? Ends on positive note since Dream is like the sun?

Dust to Dust - Nightmare accidentally getting killed by Dream, probably with his bow? While Dream is shocked & Nightmare is turning into dust, it takes until someone points it out for Dream to notice he is also dusting away at the same time.

Revert - Nightmare is hit with a positivity arrow(?) & the goop melts off of him as he screams in agony, eventually going quiet as his passive form is revealed laying passed out. Once he wakes up, he's very confused & can't understand anyone except for Dream, since languages have changed.

Fall - Something based on an incident that happened to me, where a tree fell & crushed me when I was young. Nightmare would take the place of me, obviously, in his passive form.

[hello-kuni]

𝚻𝐇𝚬 𝐅𝚰𝐕𝚬 𝐒𝚬𝚴𝐒𝚬𝐒 - 𝐂𝚶𝐌𝚸𝐋𝚬𝚻𝚬 𝐌𝚨𝐒𝚻𝚬𝐑𝐋𝚰𝐒𝚻

welcome to the full collection of my five senses inspired fluff pieces. each work focuses on a different character and centers around one of the five senses. each fandom featured in this collection will have five respective fics. this is the first time i've written fluff to this degree and i'm excited. this is also the largest thing i've ever planned.

REMINDER THAT MY BLOG IS 18+ AND MINORS ARE PROHIBITED FROM ENTERING >:(

TOKYO REVENGERS

TOUCH ; FEELINGS WE LEAVE UNSAID BUT ARE ALWAYS KNOWN : KAZUTORA

TASTE ; A TREAT SWEETER THAN ANY CHERRY FROM THE TREE : HANMA

SIGHT ; GAZING AT A DISTANT DREAM ISN'T SO SCARY : CHIFUYU

SOUND ; HUM OF AN ENGINE THROUGH THE SILENT NIGHT : SHINICHIRO

SMELL ; A SCENT TO CHERISH WHEN WE ARE APART : RAN

HAIKYUU

TOUCH ; SOFTEST SKIN WAITING FOR THE PERFECT MOMENT : SAKUSA

TASTE ; SOMETHING SAVORY TO KEEP AWAY TOOTHACHE : OSAMU

SIGHT ; AN EXPRESSION THAT BELIES TRUE FEELINGS : KENMA

SOUND ; A WELL-KNOWN RHYTHM RAISES A CONFESSION : SUNA

SMELL ; THE BURNING WICK WILL NEVER GO OUT : KUROO

GENSHIN IMPACT

TOUCH ; WONDERS OF THE GENTLE MORTAL PLEASURES : XIAO

TASTE ; BITTERNESS OF DEATH AFTER NOON IN FAIR COMPANY : KAEYA

SIGHT ; A LONGING GAZE TO CLEAR THE HEAD : ALHAITHAM

SOUND ; THE WIND SINGS OF FAMILIAR BEAUTY : KAZUHA

SMELL ; SALT SEAS COATED WITH SAKURA BLOSSOMS : AYATO

[ditzyevie]

Working on an AU where Makomo is alive lol

Based on a comic that I can’t find no more😔

Bonus

[emsartwork]

ALL OF DAPHNE'S TRANSFORMATIONS. INCLUDING UPDATED NYMPHIX.

Previously Fairy of the Dragon Flame now Fairy of Embers. She doesn't have any transformations others than these because she was fast tracked into the nymphix path, and unlike the winx the majority of fairies don't pursue additional transformations past enchantix. (i think Daphne would be interested in Dreamix tho, so maybe I'll draw that eventually.

Her major color shifted after dying and being revived, which is shown in her winx and enchantix.

other lore and design notes below!

I changed her major color from orange/yellow to more of a teal/green because. she just doesn't look good in yellow I'm sorry I really tried but it wasn't working. Also little updates to her hair color, nothing huge tho. Daphne's primary motifs are a branching "Y" shape and a double oval/tear drop. She's a pants when possible girlie and a one set winger(yes her nymphix looks like it have multiple wings but they all merge into one stem on each side) . Her scars from her Sirenix being ripped out of her caused her winx/enchantix to change a little to cover them(mostly seen in the arms) due to insecurity. Her Dryadix/nymphix flower is a daffodil! because pun Daph-Daff, and Daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings (also creativity, energy, resilience, forgiveness and vitality). Her Harpix wings aren't super specificly patterned, but she has darting wings common in small song and seed birds (robins, finches, brown birds etc.) the coloring is referential of a Shrike (also called a Butcher Bird), because Daphne was. incredibly dangerous and if she had sided with the ancestral probably would have been given a moniker similar to Butcher of Domino or Daphne the Slaughterer. (some people do call her these but its mostly among people who dislike Domino/The Royal Family.)

Lore! Daphne doesn't have a great sense of self, she was planned as a necessary successor to Marion/the dragon flame in a period as the ancestral witches were escalating their attacks and search for the dragon flame. Bloom was a back up baby in case both Daphne and Marion got dead and basically worked as intended haha. Daphne was also much more publicly involved in the kingdom than many of the other royals in winx (Stella, Aisha, Krystal and even Galatea to an extent all had rather sheltered upbringings) in a way Daphne is much more like Sky and Thoren in the since that none of them really had the space to develop their own personality outside of their familial duty.

Daphne's 1st winx and enchantixes are as direct a copy of her mom's Enchantix as you can get with transformations, right down to the more greenish tint of her major color. Growing up Marion used her fairy form liberally, so that, combined with being the next Dragon Flame holder left a deep impact on Daphne's subconscious. Daphne was also heavily influenced by Faragonda during her Alfea and Nymphix Quest years, but since she was older this isn't as deep an influence. After being revived, Daphne's years of defining herself as her connection to Bloom causes her major color to shift more blue in response to her trauma. Daphne is slowly starting to develop a sense of self outside of her titles/connections but it's unlikely her major color will shift again unless she has another major trauma.

(for the record the Winx do have trauma over the timeline I have laid out that would potentially cause their major colors to shift but I didn't do that for a couple reasons 1, their colors are iconic and make them easily recognizable as characters; 2, I'm a tired bitch. )

[cuubism]

imaginary numbers, or wish pregnancy - you choose! <3

shared a bit of Wish, so here's Imaginary Numbers -- Complex Math installment that's basically just Taking Care of Hob Hours

--

“That’s sweet. You’re sweet,” Hob tells him, and pops the tiny pastry in his mouth. “I love you.” Dream blushes. He still does that, when Hob tells him he loves him. Hob kind of wishes he never stops. Dream hands him another pastry. It’s… strange, this. Dream trying to take care of him. Anyone taking care of him. Since his mum passed, he’s pretty much just been on his own. “Do you—” Dream starts, suddenly hesitant. “I did not ask if you preferred to be alone today.” In fact, Hob really, really doesn’t want to be alone today, but admitting that with its true fervor feels… desperate. He can be alone. He can handle it, has handled it. But. He takes Dream’s hand. “I was alone today last year,” he says. “And the year before, when she passed. I planned her funeral by myself, and still there was almost no one to come.” Frankly it’s a miracle he didn’t drop out of school then, now that he thinks about it. Dream looks stricken. “I did not mean—” “There’s nothing I want more than for you to be here.” Please. I don’t want to be alone again. Dream’s anxious expression slowly subsides. “…Oh.” Then he looks tentatively pleased. Hob leans his head against his shoulder again. Dream wraps an arm around him, with some hesitance at first, then, growing bolder, he tugs Hob in so Hob is leaning fully against him, half in his lap with his face pressed against Dream’s throat. It’s… nice. It’s really nice.

[felassan]

[cowgurrrl]

“Women can’t work under the pressures of urgency and special considerations inherent in much of the Agency’s work.” — From the 1953 report on the role of women in CIA, also known as the “Petticoat Panel”

“It’s somehow easier to endure together.” — Anton Chekov, from Complete Works of Anton Chekov; “A Living Chattel,”

In the 1980s, women made up 35% of those working in the CIA— even less traveled on official government business. In the 1980s and into the 90s, you worked for the CIA, tracking down one of the most dangerous drug cartels in history. You worked alongside countless men from other agencies like the FBI and the DEA to bring down the Medellín cartel— Javier Peña and Steve Murphy among them. They got to be the heroes. They got the praise. They got to tell their side of the story. Maybe it’s time you finally tell yours.

La Golondrina [1.1k]

Playing the Game [4.0k]

The Palace in Flames [3.8k]

How I Get Myself Killed [2.7k]

[oflights]

wip snip 4.2

thank you for the tag, @elskanellis! your snip is so intriguing 👀

in return, have some more of time travel fic: extremely gooey and tender and basically what the next 10k or so words are going to be (the fic is currently 20k lmao) before things get Bad again. still heartbreaking in its tenderness, though, because baby harry is heartbreaking (a contextual reminder that he is 7 in this snip!!! adult harry is henceforth "potter" from draco's pov).

“This is for me?” Harry asks, doing another turn, clutching at the still unnamed dragon in his hands. “All of this, the bed and—I can—”

“Harry,” Draco says softly, coming closer and dropping to crouch again, ignoring his protesting thighs starting to truly feel all the activity of the day. “Yes, all of this. You can sleep in the bed, you can name your toy—it’s all yours. This is what looking after you means; everything that I can offer is yours now. I promise.”

“Do I have to—” Harry starts, and Draco simply doesn’t want to hear where that’s going.

“No. You don’t have to do a single thing. It’s just yours. Because—because you’re a guest, and a kid, and kids deserve these sorts of things no matter what.”

“Oh,” Harry says, sounding genuinely startled in a way that makes Draco want to punch—someone. Perhaps Vernon or Petunia Dursley, or perhaps Albus Dumbledore. He did not ever imagine he would one day find new and more infuriating reasons to resent Dumbledore this long after his death, but he supposes life is surprising that way.

Harry breaks up his surprised, revelatory stance with another yawn, and this time Draco makes sure his tone brooks no argument when he directs him to the bathroom with the pajamas. To keep busy and shove down the punching urge, he resizes another set of clothes from the wardrobe for the morning, startling himself when he leans too far in and his hand disappears through the back wall.

“Oh, right, I should warn you,” Draco says when Harry returns, changed and padding gingerly towards the bed. “The wardrobe is a portal to the treehouse, so be careful if you go too far into it.”

“You have a treehouse?” Harry asks with a gasp, and Draco smiles at him, striding over and pulling the quilt back for Harry to settle in.

“You have a treehouse. I’ll show you tomorrow, if you’d like.”

He waits as Harry clambers onto the bed and settles against the mound of pillows, smoothing the quilt over him and then making sure the dragon is tucked in, too. “Any ideas on a name?” Draco asks softly, tweaking the dragon’s snout. “Do you want to sleep on it?”

“Can I name him after a—a con—a constellation? Like you?” Harry asks, frowning in concentration.

“Yes, of course you can. Which do you fancy?” Draco sits on the bed near Harry’s feet and leans back on his hands, gazing up at the ceiling as it cycles over them. “There’s Cygnus, the swan I was telling you about—he was my grandfather, you know, and right by Draco, so that’s convenient. There’s Pegasus, too, a type of flying horse, and Cepheus, he was a king in Ancient Greece—well, he chained his daughter up to a rock, so maybe not the best role model, but a cool name nonetheless. Just stop me if anything grabs you, really.”

“What’s that one?” Harry asks, squinting up and pointing; Draco makes a mental note to solve the glasses issue as soon as possible. He looks where Harry’s pointing, southwest of the quadrant he’d been explaining, and spots the most recognizable constellation there is.

“Ah, that’s Orion. The hunter. He was a Giant, you know, and he got pretty boastful, so Gaia—super powerful Earth mum, you did not want to get on her bad side—sent a great big scorpion after him. They fought, so you’ll never see Orion and Scorpius—that constellation all the way over there—in the sky at the same time. But Ophiuchus—he was a Healer, that one over there, see how he’s sort of between Orion and Scorpius? He gave Orion some medicine and saved him from Scorpius.”

Harry’s eyes are drooping closed, but he still murmurs, “Really? Is that all true?”

“Well, sort of. They’re stories, myths; all the stars have stories. There are different versions and they change depending on who you talk to, but I have my favorite versions because they’re the ones my mum told me.”

Draco checks in to see that Harry’s eyes are almost completely closed, and keeps talking hoping they’ll close further; how many times had his mother talked him to sleep?

“If you’re in the sky, it means you’re pretty important, right? So that means lots of stories. I’ll tell you all of them, if you’d like. I think you’ll enjoy this room, and you’ll be happy here. I hope so.”

That’s all verging on a ramble, but he thinks it doesn’t matter because Harry is asleep. So Draco gets up gently, patting Harry’s foot over the quilt, shoots the still unnamed dragon a grin, and starts to leave the room.

He stops only when he hears Harry mumble, “Orion. That’s his name,” and curl around the dragon, breathing going smooth and even, arms clutching it tight against his small frame.

Draco smiles at them both. “Goodnight, Harry and Orion.”

tagging @teledild0nix @phoebe-delia and @thehoneybeet, fully randomly chosen so absolutely no pressure!!

[static-radio-ao3]

fic snippy

“No, really, I can tell what people listen to with just one look,” Regulus argues. He glances at James, who has his eyes on the road, head tilted in consideration. The red of the light floods the car, staining James’ face in a warm hue. It looks good on him, Regulus decides. “Okay, do me,” James says. The turn signal ticks steadily on. The light stays red. Regulus doesn’t breathe. For the barest, briefest moment, heat floods his face. He’s thankful James is such a careful driver, eyes never on Regulus for long. “What?” He manages. “Do me,” James repeats. He shoots Regulus a quick glance. “What do I listen to?” Air floods his lungs again, the warm scent of wood and allspice that is now so familiar to him. He pretends to consider it for a moment. Makes a show of looking James up and down, examining the way his glasses sit low on his nose, somehow always smudged. The light turns green. The car rolls into motion. “Whale sounds and city pop,” Regulus says eventually. James’ eyes flit over to Regulus, wide and amazed behind his smudged glasses, eyebrows raised. “Holy shit, how did you know?” He breathes out, incredulous. Regulus huffs, soft and fond. “You regularly let me queue up songs on your Spotify. I have eyes, James.” James’ shoulders droop. He sulks with his whole body, Regulus has learned. It is not enough to pout, mouth twisted in childlike annoyance. No, he needs to sag and wilt like the plants on Regulus’ windowsill, not satisfied until they get attention. “Not fair,” James whines and Regulus imagines that he sounds like the kids he teaches. “Never said I was.”

[eternallytired17]

Possible MOTA Bridgerton AU

Unbeknownst to the rest of the Ton, Gale Cleven, the Duke of Thorpe Abbotts, and the Viscount, Lord John Egan, are in the midst of a secret relationship. At one of the most important balls of the social season, John is his usual flirty self with all the Lords and Ladies in attendance, which Gale takes great offence to.

After a delightful evening of covertly pressing Gale’s buttons, John sneaks off to the host’s prized hedge maze, knowing that the Duke won’t be too far behind.

The Viscount is prepared to take his punishment...

[shyvioletcat]

Rowaelin Month 2023

Here's my masterlist for Rowaelin Month! So excited to share these works with you.

~~~~~

September 1: Song Fic - Oakwald Street

September 2: Accidents Happen - The Sweetest Promise Part 1

September 4: "Friends don't do this" - Set Up Part 6

September 8: Single Parents - Fish are Friends Part 2

September 9: Renaissance Fair - It Takes Two

September 10: Co-host/Guest Star with Chemistry - Dressing Room Drama Part 2

September 11: Getting arrested / Trip to police station - Broken Dreams

September 12: Meet Cute / Meet Ugly - The Sweetest Promise Part 2

September 13: Babies / Kids / Next Gen - Striking Matches

September 15: Meeting the Parents - The Sweetest Promise Part 3

September 18: Aelin and Hawk Rowan - A Race

September 19: Telling their kids about their tattoos - Stories

September 23: Domestic Fluff - What is it like to fly?

September 26: Taking care of the littles solo - How’s One To Know?

September 27: Person A is touch starved but didn't know how to reach out to Person B - The Sweetest Promise Part 4

September 29: Firsts (date/kiss/time/child/etc) - I Wish You Would Part 3

September 30: A Missing or Alternate Scene from Canon - Bite Me

[marcsnuffy]

Instead of working on my assignment due on thursday I changed my blog theme (⌒‿⌒)

[blitzwhore]

Thanks for the tag, @sunsetofdoom!!! It's Thursday here already, but eh, still WIP Wednesday in spirit. Here's a snippet from one of my WIPs, which is a sequel to my fic Saving Us:

“I just thought I’d be better by now,” Blitzø says, his voice rumbling in his throat with the way he’s leaning his head back against tufts of cushy feathers. “I thought by now I’d be ready to, you know… do stuff. Take care of myself. Go back to work. Kill that fucking guy so you can have your palace back. Be… I don’t know.” He leans forward again, and Stolas follows his weight, his chest never dislodging from Blitzø’s back. “Useful, I guess.” 

He hates how tiny his voice sounds as those words tumble out of his lips. Hates how true they feel—how prickly and uncomfortable he feels inside at the thought that he can’t do anything of value—can’t be there for others—can only let others take care of him.

“Darling,” Stolas murmurs, and Blitzø braces himself for words of reassurance that he’s sure he won’t believe.

They don’t come, though. 

Instead, Stolas just holds him tighter, still putting all the care in the world in his every movement so he doesn't hurt Blitzø's healing body. Stolas rests his head on top of Blitzø’s, right between his horns. When Blitzø looks in the mirror, he sees Stolas’ eyes are closed, and Stolas is practically curled up around him—arms taut around his stomach, feathers puffing up around his frame. Almost like Stolas is trying to bury Blitzø under his very skin and keep him there. Like he can't bear to let go, or see Blitzø suffer. 

Tentatively, Blitzø brings his hands to Stolas’ and covers them with his own.

“I’m just sick of waiting,” Blitzø admits in a low voice. “Everyone’s ready to go through with the plan. Everyone except for me. I hate it.”

Tagging @stolitzsings @helluvagirlboss @bleucaesura @helluvahusker and anyone else who wants to do this!! Tag me on yours so I can see! 👀

[toxotesjc]

getting to that point in the fic where I'm just. so pleased with myself. approximately as smug as a cartoon villain who knows his plan is Absolutely Foolproof. Trying to knock out the last bit and finish planning the hidden features before the next stage (Despair) strikes.

[fanby-fckry]

Unintended consequences to taking note of the Alastor-Ursula parallels, in chronological order:

Creating a Hazbin Hotel/The Little Mermaid Chaggie AU.

Writing Poor Unfortunate Souls: Alastor’s Version.

Staying up all night writing Poor Unfortunate Souls: Alastor’s Version.

Poor Unfortunate Souls is now stuck in my head.

[katkalis-the-horror-fanartist]

Info about my version of a corrupt overlord Enoch and the zone he rules!:

The Big Boss:

This cruel, monstrous, voracious ruler devours all who appose him. His lust for power has led to this eerie twisting of his form. Compliance saves lives. Resistance is soon snuffed out, usually by his deadly maw.

Spectral Dedan and Spectral Japhet, The Sinister Shadows:

After becoming locked up within a hidden area, part of the soul of the fallen guardians was drained away and infused into writhing fury. Now, these vicious creations, horrid striding portrayals of those pitiful fallen fools stalk Enoch's territory.

The Hench-Elsens:

Together, these apostles of dread appease and serve their powerful ruler. Though usually very reminiscent of pure Elsens, they each have hellish, gruesome form far more fearsome than their usual facades. Each is capable of drastic destruction in said form, and formidable foes each can make.

A general summary of each seperate Elsen Below:

Caspar: The most temperamental and feral of the three, he is prone to acting before thinking. This often leads to scolding, though moreso by his more authoritative partner rather than Enoch. His boss form is beastial.

Melchior: The most obedient, and undoubtedly the most calm. When not sent out with a mission to complete, he stays close to his overlord's side. Caspar often spits insults at him, such as labeling him the lord's pet.

Balthasar: The unintentional leader of the group. Tentacles that make up his body squirm and squelch, often tense with energy, prepared to snap out and slice flesh in an instant. His attempts to keep order often succeed, so he has little to no chance of losing his silent title.