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Father son bonding time over some girl. Either because she’s pissing them off or she’s *occupied* between them.

I had so many wonderful prompts sent to me the other night. Thank you <3

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Every unhinged fic writer needs an equally unhinged friend who "yes ands" their ideas and encourages them to write all their most far fetched and insane stories.

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Southern Gothic is the only correct answer and no one can change my mind. Horny art or no it's the best take.

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Maybe it's dark, but a heart remains a heart🖤

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Any Azris? :)

Hello anon! I hope you're well.

If you meant this in good faith, I'm working on some! I hope to have it finished soon, but I'm struggling with the last bit of this chapter and want to make it perfect before I post! I don't ever want to deliver anything subpar just to reach a deadline.

If this was a call out for not being able to participate in Azris week this year, that would be really hurtful. I really wanted to participate and had a whole list of plans, but creators are people too. I worked my butt off to try and have things ready, but it wasn't mentally, physically, or emotionally feasible with the hellstorm that is my life right now. I hope you enjoyed the banners though! I really enjoyed working on those, and hope to do more in the future.

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The Whole Truth, Chapter 30

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Nesta stared at the teary face of her sister, unsure how to proceed.

“I need to talk to you, Nesta,” Elain repeated, lifting her chin. “Now.”

“Now?” Nesta echoed back. “Well, now, I’m about to—”

“This is more important!”

Elain’s voice echoed down the hall, surprisingly sharp. It had anxiety crawling up her throat, a pang of nervousness in the pit of her stomach.

She knew her sister was going to reach an implosion point soon, it was true.

But right now? When she was trying to build the kind of life she wanted with friends who knew her organically, who weren’t tied to any of it?

If only it was ever that simple in her life.

“… Alright.” She said, voice flatter than she wanted as she stepped aside to let her in.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/46839427/chapters/171805555

Tag List: @c-e-d-dreamer @podemechamardek @talkfantasytome @moodymelanist @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @eerievixen @sweet-pea1 @thewayshedreamed @agents-assemble @jsmelodies @aelinchocolatelover @unlikelypersonalknight1 @bri-loves-sunflowers @misswonderflower @acourtofladydeath @natasharomxnov @unhealthyfanobsession @fiction-loving-person @daddyduncan69 @bobanna81 @a-trifling-matter

@blueunoias @authenticgaymer @xstarlightsupremex @pham-tastical

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ACOTAR (White Lotus Editition) Chapter 4

Welcome back to @kale-theteaqueen and I'd Insane Rich People Island. Enjoy ...

Nesta almost swore there was a shimmer to the heat as she stepped deeper into the ruins - how was Gwyn not being baked alive down there? As she got lower, Nesta could see the true size of where they were. The entire thing sprawled around her in layered fragments - crumbled stone walls outlining rooms that must have once been filled with movement and ceremony. Pillars painted a deep, almost impossible rose red stood out from the stone here and there - like massive exclamation point emoji’s, Nesta thought, but didn’t dare voice.

Beneath her feet, smooth slabs of limestone formed what seemed to be a floor, though - “It looks almost new in places.”

“Yeah,” Gwyn grumbled, still not straightening from whatever she was working on. “We can thank some jackass British archaeologist for that. He decided to restore sections based on his own imagination and a bucket of concrete. Controversial doesn’t even begin to cover this site.”

“He wrote archaeological fanfiction, is what you’re saying?” 

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Timshel

Chapter 3

Notes: So this chapter was supposed to be the final chapter, but @queercontrarian read my mind and said “what if…” With that in mind, please note that the next chapter (NOT THIS ONE) will have main character death. If you decide that’s not what you want, you can read this chapter and it will count as an ending.

“Have you eaten yet?” Azriel asks softly. The blue light of Eris’s screen spills out over his desk and hands, making it hard to see Azriel standing on the other side of the monitor. His hands in his pockets, he looks content for the first time in a long time. He asks again, this time in Farsi, “Have you eaten?”

It’s a language Eris has come to know through kindness – have you eaten, have you slept, azizam? – and one Azriel has spoken more frequently in the year since his mother’s death. Though he had only heard her voice a handful of times, Eris can hear the curl of the words in Farzaneh’s voice when Azriel speaks.

Eris checks the clock in the bottom corner of his screen. It’s nearly two in the morning, and Eris has been at his screen since it got dark around ten. He fed two days ago and doesn’t feel hungry.

But Azriel is still standing there, with that softness around his mouth, and Eris knows he doesn’t mean Eris’s type of hungry.”

Read more on ao3.

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Day 2 of @azrisweek Slice of life

Centuries of excitements. Time to take it easy. Slow days. Just two faes growing old and grey together.

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Skull (1887) by Vincent van Gogh

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Under the Lemon Trees (1884) by Claude Monet

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George Tiller was murdered 13 years ago today (May 31 2022)

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Thinking about my ipb oc, Ca'nen again. Wish I had the energy to draw him more <3

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Babe I don't think it's possible for you to do anything wrong, but this? THIS? This is something that's so right it's not even funny.

So uhhhhhh. Hypothetically, and I cannot stress this enough, this is purely for science. How would we feel about modern silver fox Rhys and Marcel being smoking buddies?

They’re chatting — definitely not bickering since they’re grown adult men who are way too old to be petty, right? — outside their girlfriend’s art gallery. She eventually comes out, hissing “You’re not allowed to smoke in here!”

Rhys’s long, slender finger taps the ash off his cigarette once, twice. “Last I checked, darling, smoking outside the gallery was perfectly acceptable.”

“You two are standing right by the entrance. You’re giving my gallery a bad name.” She purses her lips, the small pout drawing Marcel’s attention as his pale gaze dips down an inch.

The movement doesn’t go unnoticed by Rhysand — even at his old age, he’s never quite figured out how to keep the dark, ugly jealousy from blooming deep inside him. He drops the cigarette, smearing its remains into the ground with the tip of his polished boot.

Marcel only sneers. “Our apologies,” he drawls, his tone dripping with mockery. “Darling.”

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Option 1 it is! @charmys

This fic features Eris and Lucien asking Elain to fuck Beron as a way to barter more free time for the Lady of Autumn. It's a win, win. She gets to fuck Beron (who she's been dreaming off since the original fic in this series, "Welcome to the Family") and hopefully LoA gets more toime to herself. Featuring Erislain, Elucien, and Berlain smut scenes, because why not? This fic helps to advance the plot in the "To Become A Vanserra" series while also letting our favorite VanDaddy's have some time with their favorite Archeron.

Berlain because that shits gotta be fucked up 😅

Berlain 1 or 2? Because they're actually quite different... 👀 They both take place within the TBAV universe.