thing i did for zora and my friends sith oc, doriosa @doryishness
I wanna write a bigger scene for this, but honestly, I can’t, because I’m just bawling tears of joy and love right there. I love you so so much man. I can’t even express how much in words this means to, but someday I hope to. I’ll finish your stories and post them, I swear <3 I’m working on them <3
South Carolina is not known for having an immense amount of snow. If it was, then the sheet of white that covered the ground would not be such a surprise. It was a mid morning snow that had begun as a morning frost. It was the first day of practice after winter break and the foxes were excited to get back to the court. They arrived just as the first flurry was threatening to fall. The foxes paid it no mind as it surely would never stick. The door shut behind them as the first snowflake fell from the sky.
[another fic based off of a piece of the great @baoxie‘s art, because i love it too much to not give them something in return just because i get to see it. i reblogged this one today, but here’s the link if you guys haven’t seen it yet!!
as for you, artist, i’m sorry for bothering you with another fic!!
anyway, i’m in my felix feels right now, so just…enjoy this. i’m sorry. spoilers for all non-azure moon routes, by the way!! and trigger warning for blood, though there’s only a little bit. death is discussed as well, just so you know :D]
***
they will ask him such brainless questions, come morning.
knowing this, felix rips the binding from his hair, shudders as the moonlit river unfurls down his shoulders, cold and searing. goosebumps encrusts his skin like hideous jewels. he bats his head, hair lashing his face until it stings, then scrabbles for the sword at his hip. his fingers wind around the blade, knuckles pale as the moon that sparks them aglow.
he clutches the sword, clingsto it, then meets his own eyes in the mirror. before he gets too lost, chasing spirits down the gaping tunnels of his eye sockets - the horrors within them too strange to fathom if you’re not glaring them right in the face - he flinches away from himself.
his eyes steer down to the sword clenched between his fingers, far too tightly. his knuckles tear, blood weeping from the wounds. white hands shine lethal red; not even the black of his room can mute that color.
despite himself, a snarl of a laugh wrenches from his lips, nipped bloody by blades-for-teeth and starved, desperate grief. turns out, though he didn’t think he could like anything these days, he still loves to bleed.
his eyes stray back to the mirror, eyes clinking against themselves again…but all felix can see is the boar.
the boar who haunts his dreams, and
the boar who won’t leave his damned mind, and
the boar who can’t exist anywhere else anymore, because
the boar is dead, and death is it. death is all. it’s the gasp at the end of the battle, the mourning howl that gives any tragedy a voice.
it is final as the pain that fogs up the corners of his eyes, as the frown that scars the corners of his lips, as the sword in his hand–
and his sword hand rises–
and the boar, as much as felix wishes the contrary, did not deserve to die–
his sword squirms in his hand, or perhaps that’s just the tremor leaking into his bones–
the boar, for all his towers of faults, had a precious heart–
and his other hand, the one that hasn’t frayed open yet, tangles into his wayward hair, yanking yanking yanking, and the pain shocks him back to life, but his eyes are still flat, numb–
the boar was, in a way, as good as glenn, and just as doomed–
that hungry blade, covered in blood, it grazes felix’s hair, slicing through it with ease. clumps of midnight fan down around him–
was it stupid of felix to love him? or was he stupid for never owning up to it until it was too damn late?
the blade chops, its thirst quenched, but not for long enough–
or was it always too late? would felix be the fool no matter what he did?
has felix always been the fool?
finally, the sword slips from his grasp, making far too loud of a clatter as it finds the floor. felix smacks the mirror with his eyes one final time, and they’re dead. not even agony can revive them now.
his hair is a mess, prickling from his head in ghastly spines.
and then, felix, too, slides to the floor, fishing through the mess around him until he can snag a decent clump of hair. he studies it, then clamps down too hard. his fingernails slice into his palms, blood bubbling up in the cuts, but felix doesn’t care. his head collapses into the crook of his arm.
oh yes, there will be questions. felix launches the spray of his hair over his shoulder carelessly. sylvain will hammer him in questions for sure, and taunts in equal measure: what happened to your hair, felix? seriously, are you trying to scare off the ladies?
felix gags against an acid-coated laugh, because the answer to sylvain’s stupid, ridiculous question will always be a scoff and a, yes, in fact, moron, i want nothing to do with ladies.
felix rakes a hand through his now uneven hair.
at least sylvain’s idiocy can be a slight reprieve, a quiet glimmer of normalin the torrent the boar’s death will doubtlessly toss up.
almost on an instinct, felix grapples for his sword until the cool hilt kisses his fingers. the torrent, he knows, has already begun.
and felix hugo fraldarius has no choice but to face it head-on, even with his hair (and his heart) in ribbons at his feet.
WOOOWOWOOWOWOW I’M SPEECHLESS.. LIKE I’M SO STUNNED.. you are such an incredible writer and I’m feeling starstruck. You perfectly captured the feeling that I had been going for with my art and took it so much further.. My chest hurts reading this, like you just conveyed Felix’s pain so so well and I’m HONOURED that you were inspired to write something based on my art!! I’m seriously emotional about this thank you omg…
Thank you everyone so much for your kind messages; I know I do this sometimes … and I’m grateful every time for everyone’s kindness. Nobody ever has to speak to me but you do; and your words really do move and comfort me. Im sorry I’m not able to respond to a lot but know I read everything. I’m honored and thankful for peoples concern and support and encouragement and for you all seeing me as a person. I know it’s a strange thing to say, I’m not the best at wording things; but thank you ;0;
Okay, this is a gift for @corysmiles! :D She gave me a prompt and I wrote it…. I am not proud of its length, but I hope you enjoy. I wrote this based off of “The Little Things” by Zeetle :]
(Two notes: One, ignore my last ask, and two, my internet went out right as I submitted this, so sorry if it sends multiple times. I promise I’m not that eager for you to read this ) ——————————————————————
Tommy sat against the black support stand for WIlbur’s computer, mindlessly scrolling his phone for entertainment. The past banter of earlier’s stream stranded itself somewhere out of reach of both Tommy and Wilbur. They hadn’t anything in the past hour, and the only sign of life from the human was the ongoing typing he was doing. Wilbur’s face couldn’t be seen from where Tommy was sitting, but he knew the human was tired; four hours of filming and one stream with an energetic tiny was plenty for him. So, when Wilbur broke the comforting silence by calling for him, he assumed it was so they could leave the office for the night.
“Tommy?” Tommy shut his phone and looked up at his computer-obscured view. “Yeah?”
“C’mere, I need you to look at something.” Wilbur said quietly, tire nagging at his words. “Okay..” Tommy pushed himself into a stance, carefully inching down the black platform and onto the desk. He stopped under the computer, gazing up at the human. “Hm?”
Wilbur shook his head. “Tell me, can you even see the computer screen from there?” Tommy frowned, turning around. Technically, if he craned his neck, he could see, just not well. He took another step back, then three more. There wasn’t anything on the screen for him to view- unless Wilbur wanted him to see his home screen?
Before he could turn around in question, however, hands domed around his tiny form, effectively trapping him in warmth. “Oh, you fucking dickhead,” Tommy whined, beginning a weak attempt of pushing Wilbur’s finger’s to break the trap. Wilbur snickered in amusement at his struggle.
He yelped quietly as he was swept from the desk and onto warm skin, darkness still his only view; like a void. “Let me go, and I’ll give you.. uhm.. a free win in the next MCC. I guarantee! I can talk to Scott, he’d never say no to me.”
“Oh yes, you do that.” Wilbur’s gentle voice said, his smile plastered into Tommy’s mind. He kicked at Wilbur’s fingers once, sinking into the warmth further than before.
He was pulled to the man’s chest after he’d shifted down in the chair, unready to rest but wanting to win their unofficial war; if Tommy wouldn’t do it himself willingly, then Wilbur would do the next best thing and create comfortable surroundings for the tiny. Tommy attempted to pull away from the grip, but Wilbur’s fingers held him back gently.
“I’m getting Philza Minecraft.” Tommy muttered, making a move to get his phone. He couldn’t reach it through the pinned position, however. “To quote you, don’t bring Philza Minecraft into this. Go to sleep.” Wilbur hummed. Tommy considered biting him, but the last time he’d done that ended in more hand cuddles.
He worked too hard trying to prove he disliked physical touch. He craved it from other tinies, and really didn’t mind sleeping while he was being held. He just wouldn’t fold to this dickhead.
“I’d never even think about it.”
Wilbur shifted his hand to a cup rather than a blanket-hand. Tommy fought the urge to melt into the touch. “You sure about that?” Wilbur undoubtedly grinned as Tommy muttered under his breath while moving to get comfortable. He ended in a curled position against Wilbur’s chest.
“Mhm.” He said tiredly, tire now lulling at his eyes while he let the last bit of care slip from his mind. This would be the absolute last time he folds like this. At least no one would be here to see it, he supposed while his mind drifted elsewhere. — Tiny, even breaths signaled his friend’s sleep, and Wilbur allowed that to be his cue. He pulled Tommy from his chest and took his phone from the desk. Instagram was the app he opened, and if Twitter took it well, Tommy’d be sending his fair share of protest by tomorrow. For now, however, he captioned the photo of Tommy #TinyTommy, and welcomed his quiet friend with open hands. He tucked his left hand under his right, gazing down at the smaller curled in his hands, barely the size of his thumb. Yellow light mixed with white as it added to the original navy, creating a gently illuminated setting while his friend slept.
He couldn’t finish his work, but this was worth it.
Cory Notes: CDIODHWILHIO THIS IS AMAZING!!! I love the crime boys fluff and your writing is so cute :”> I cant stop reading this and it made my day so much better. Thank you so so much for this blessing of a fic <3
#TheBestOfBellarke: A Celebration Event- September 10th - September 30th 2021
Shoutout to one of my all time fave Bellarke-fanfictions from one of my fave fanfic-authors ever: Simple Pleasuresby@pawprinterfanfic!
“She was going to tell him. I care about you. I’m falling for you. I think, I could be in love with you, one day.
She knew exactly what she was going to say to him.
Bell, I’m falling in love with you.
She was speaking before she could stop herself. He deserved to know how much he meant to her.
“Bell, I-”
His hand flew out from under hers and pressed against her lips, making her fall quiet. Her body stiffened as soon as she realized just how frightened he looked. His eyes were wide, his muscles tensed, and he was holding his breath. Her heart began hammering in her chest as she seen him.
She only seen this fear in him one time before. The cave.
That’s when she heard it. Faintly, she could hear the creak of a wooden step.
Summary: Why can’t two people who are meant for each other get it right?
***
They’re fighting again. All Y/n can do is shut her eyes in the hopes that when she opens them, everything will be okay. But no amount of wishing can drown out the noise.
“I can’t keep pretending like everything is fine! It’s not. You know it isn’t, Matt,” she hears her mother erupt between sobs. Lately, it’s been the same angry words shouted at one another over and over again. Y/n takes her baby sister, Ava, in her eight-year-old arms. She hugs the baby close. If she can’t block the screaming out, at least she can protect her sister from it.
“Grace, please.” It’s her dad’s voice. She’s never heard him sound so desperate. “What about our family? The girls need you. I need you! You can’t just walk away from us.”
There’s a sudden silence that follows. At first, Y/n thinks that maybe her parents have reached a resolution. Her dad has always been good at negotiating. It is his job, after all. She’s seen him in action whenever he brings her to work with him. Maybe he’s managed to work that same magic on her mum. She gently lays Ava down on the bed, creating a makeshift barrier of pillows on either side of her, before exiting the room and running down the stairs.
Before she can reach the bottom, she’s forced to a halt when she sees her daddy slouched over on the last step. His head is buried in his hands, his shoulders are shaking. He’s crying. That’s a sight she’s never seen before. He’d always been the picture of bravery and strength, but now that’s been washed away and replaced with someone who looks broken beyond repair. She doesn’t recognize him.
Where is her mum? She slips past her dad, despite wanting to throw herself in his arms for comfort. Besides his sniffling, the house is quiet. There’s no trace of her mum. It scares her.
“Where’s Mummy?” she asks meekly, turning to her father.
He doesn’t respond, but instead, he brings his hands out of his hair, and stares painfully at the door. Without thinking, she throws it open, the sun’s light momentarily blinding her for a few unhinged seconds. It’s only the screeching of wheels on road that brings her back.
“Mummy!” she cries, running as fast as her short legs can take her. Her eyes begin to swell with tears. The black taxi is still, and she’s just able to stare at her mum through its window. “Mummy, where are you going?” she pleads as she bangs on the door, but her mother doesn’t even flinch. Why won’t she look at me?
The engine starts up, and the car begins to drive away. Y/n chases after it, crying out for her mum to come back. “Don’t go! Please don’t leave me!” It picks up speed after it turns the corner. She feels herself slowing down, but even then, she refuses to stop. The distance between herself and the car becomes too massive.
“Mummy, come back!”
Arms envelop around her, and now she’s running on air. “Let her go,” her dad tells her, and she can feel his own tears against her neck. Her feet stop kicking, it’s like the energy has completely drained from her body. Her mind, however, is still racing.
“Am I…Am I still all that’s in…” And rests her hand where his heart is.
Her own heart leaps in her chest when his dimples emerge from his cheeks. He lays his own hand over hers, stepping towards her but also pulling her incredibly close. “It’s always been you.”
I had no idea whether they’d get together and it was such a relief to know they did! I’m so happy for them
The first scene broke me. That was so cruel. And that last scene… TIFF. SO BEAUTIFUL. I was amazed by the subtlety of their love story. And I could see her art in my head so clearly. Everything was so connected
I’ve been watching your content since 2014 man. All the laughs and smiles you gave me and many others are something that won’t be forgotten. You left something so genuine behind, and I can only hope you rest easy now. Thank you for everything.
Oh my lord ! I hadn’t even realized I’m at 500 followers now!! Thank you all so much ! I hope my crappy writing and stupid memes don’t scare any of you off…
Here’s my take on Malfoy family! As a sort of counterpart of my latest Potter family picture I thought it would have been nice to see little Draco with mommy and daddy too ♥ hope you like this! I’ve worked hard on this u_u
Here is something small (131 words)! I really loved the loving look on Lucius’ face, and the interaction between Narcissa and baby Draco. We all know that Narcissa loves her son to death, but Lucius never really gets to show that affection. I thought that something that showed a bit into his mind and how he felt would be nice - while still keeping to his stoic persona.
(Though I will admit, I enjoy the affectionate-in-private Lucius that gets written! The one that cherishes his friendship with Severus Snape, enough to make him Godfather to his first born son; the one that continues to bow to a evil tyrant in the hopes that if hes the one being punished, then his wife and child will be spared - even at the expense of the Malfoy name. Thats my favorite Lucius.)
Ahhh this is so beautiful ♥♥♥♥ I love this little insight on Lucius’s mind! Thank you for adding this to the picture, I want all the people to see it too ♥ I also like this version of Lucius that show he does have an heart after all, and I agree that making Snape the godfather does mean something and wasn’t just a for-profit move!
Tbh I think the Malfoys are much more complex characters that what we saw in canon and it’s always nice to explore different sides, despite their terrible behavior and all.
Here I am again, celebrating my favorite fics of 2021! I challenged myself to pick one memorable fic I read from each month of the year. As always this was extremely challenging. I go month by month on A03 and make a google doc of all the fics I enjoyed during the month. Then I narrow it down to one fic per month to post here.
April - The Autobiography of Kirsten Clancy by@curator-on-ao3. Title is pretty self explanatory. I think this is my favorite fic of the year. So well written about a character that has such a small, but impactful part in Picard.
For the chronically anxious and/or otherwise mentally ill:
This is not a screamer, jumpscare, or any other kind of horror link I don’t know the name of. It will not cause you to question reality and as far as I’m aware, there is no reason it should cause any kind of hallucinations or psychosis. I don’t want to spoil the surprise because it’s DELIGHTFUL but I am happy to tell you it’s very sweet and gentle and also great lowkey stress relief. This is a cinnamon roll link appropriate for all ages (yes, all the way down to babies) and you will enjoy it if you click it. ❤️
Pheobe de Sardet and Vasco commissioned by lovely @merruschka
Thank you, I had a lot of fun drawing it! (◠‿◠✿)
Lemme hug you omg uwu
I am squeaaling so much, this is SO GOOD. PERFECT!!! ♥️♥️♥️ I simply love how you captured the moment here, the lights are so warm and intimate ;w; Pheobe who leans towards Vasco to reward him with a kiss. And her sleepwear simply unffff I like how you can see there is nothing underneath ahahhaahhahahaah
The folds on his lose shirt are so well drawn and rendered, wow ;___; and their hair and skins looks so beautiful I simply cannot, the colors are on point! And I love how the height differences are so well seen here with her being the dainty, petite princess she is ahahhah, blame me I am such a sucker for these things truly shhzsghzgshshshahah
This rose, holy shiet, looks so real, I guess Vasco had brought it when coming home dhsvsgsgavhsgaja I like how it’s rose colored because next to the blue colors, this one is like my second favourite for her ;w;
I am so happy, you truly made my week with this gorgeous piece, thank you so so much! ♥️♥️♥️
