ladymacbethsspot - Tumblr blog

[ladymacbethsspot]

Gerhard Richter Seestücke Seascapes 1972 51.7 cm x 36.7 cm Atlas Sheet: 200

[ladymacbethsspot]

Hi hi hi omg I just wanted to say I’m halfway through spellbound and it is literally my EVERYTHING right now. I’ve been hooked since the very beginning!!! I’m so enraptured with your writing, and the way you portray these characters is just beautiful. The plot, the pacing, the smut, it’s just SO good! And your descriptions are out of this world omg!!! I’m a writer too so this is such a wonderful like piece to look up to as well as just enjoying it as a reader!!

I was curious because it’s eating me up inside - did you have a particular city in mind when you wrote this? I live in downtown chicago and like so many little details make me think of it. I’m sure there are tons of other cities with large lakes and parks and rivers and chinatowns but the story just feels so alive to me being so like the city I’m living in! (Obviously I won’t be disappointed if you were thinking of a different city or weren’t thinking of a specific city at all because it won’t change how much I love this fic but I thought how cool would that be if you were!)

I seriously adore your writing, I can’t wait to read more! I hope you’re having a great day, and don’t feel pressured to answer this! I’m sure you get a lot of fans but this work really does mean a lot to me!!! Sending you all the best!

Hello!

First, I'm sorry I left this unanswered so long in my inbox. I very rarely use Tumblr anymore.

Second, thank you! I'm really happy you are enjoying (or enjoyed) this fic. It was a huge part of my life for a long time, and it's really gratifying to know that people are still reading it. Since I wrote it for so long, I also feel like my writing style changes from beginning to end and it makes it really interesting to look back on. I love describing thing, picturing them in my mind, and hearing that it's something you particularly liked about my writing makes me very happy.

And third- like the majority of my fics, almost all of the locations in Spellbound are real. It sounds like you live in the perfect place to visit them. In fact, I'd expect you've probably seen many already. The museum campus, the seasonal ice rink, the elevated trains, Chinatown... I've been evasive about where it's set in the past, but now that I no longer live there I feel less weird about it. I don't know how far you've gotten in the fic, but there's a bit of Chicago in all of it. Mike gets married at The Rookery, The Pit is where the Chicago Spire was never built, The Center is in an alley by the Zero-Zero corner of State and Madison St, and even the university and the cemetery Erwin visits later on are places you could easily get to on the trains (Northwestern and Graceland Cemetery). I'm glad you recognized the setting- it makes me feel like I've done it justice in my depictions.

Thank you for sending me this lovely message, and I hope you enjoy the rest of the fic (and maybe even enjoy some of the settings as easter eggs in your daily life).

[ladymacbethsspot]

For some reason I can't tag user @superlampa , but I think the one they're mentioning in the replies is this:

Chemical (orphaned work)

Do you have any recs for exercise/workout related fics? Anything from Levis perspective like running or training. Or doing that thing where he overexerts himself and angrily chops at Titan dummies.

I need some good workout motivation lmaoo.

Hey Anon, there are loads of fics where both Erwin and Levi run or work out, but a lot of them are written from Erwin's POV. I'm going to rec a few of them anyway though because they're brilliant. @ladymacbethsspot in particular writes the best running scenes I've ever read. The first two on this list are long fics which feature beautifully written running scenes.

Thicker than Water by ladymacbethsspot

Spellbound by ladymacbethsspot

Soaring by ladymacbethsspot

"It's not what it looks like." by hedera_helix

Mats and Tats by @improbabledicks This one is from Levi's POV and it's incredibly hot and very funny.

Nameless by @eyebrowluv Another Levi POV which features workouts and running in later chapters.

In terms of canonverse Levi over-exerting himself you could try something like The Laws of Survival by @pasiphile

[ladymacbethsspot]

For @ladymacbethsspot’s beautiful canonverse getaway fic “Long Ride Home” <3 <3 <3

[ladymacbethsspot]

[ladymacbethsspot]

settle this for me once and for all

is “chai” a TYPE of tea??! bc in Hindi/Urdu, the word chai just means tea

[ladymacbethsspot]

This is all rings true. I think every fic writer can relate to it. But I've said it before and I'll say it again- I've never seen a piece of fanart that has made me cry, but so many amazing fics have done that. I've read books that have changed my life, and fics that have too for that matter. No other type of fan-made media has ever touched me as deeply. I want everyone who writes to know that- what they're capable of, what their contribution means.

Hi Lost, I'm new to your blog, but an old reader of your works. I'm an unknown writer in the fandom who's been devouring fic for years. I’ve recently created my own account, but writing for the fandom isn't like what I thought it would be. I'm happy to say that I've somewhat found a place of peace by readjusting expectations and celebrating personal writing milestones rather than focusing on metrics or things out of my control. I'm in a much better place to handle the often one sided nature

of fan-on-fan-content-consumption (?) but I can’t deny that the lack of response still has the power to get to me and make me feel completely insignificant and unworthy of people’s time or appreciation. I’ve read countless reddit threads and posts covering every stance and opinion regarding this decidedly divisive topic. But I was wondering if you had any encouraging advice or useful practical tips for a new writer like me to keep going and keep their head up

when the clicks, kudos, and comments just aren’t rolling in? I know that, relatively speaking, my small fics do okay. It makes me feel conflicted and ungrateful or even entitled when I’m not satisfied with the good amount of feedback I get. But I also hate that 2-4 comments on a chapter or oneshot I’ve spent sometimes weeks or months working on is what’s culturally considered “good”. I’ve found comfort in some amazing posts on the issue of digital emotional labor

and the problems that arise when fic writers aren’t acknowledged or valued for their priceless contributions to the overall ecosystem of fandom, and while it feels good to know my experiences are not isolated, nor are my feelings invalid, the niggling question still looms in the back of my head: why don’t readers comment and how can I get them to? To get variables out of the way: I always enthusiastically ask for readers to talk to me in the comments at the end of my works; I reply to every

comment, though sometimes in a very untimely manner; I’m unable to post or write consistently due to pretty debilitating mental health issues; and, as a reader, I always try to leave the types of comments I would love to receive myself. I know I’m not the type of dependable fic author who writes the formidable fandom classics, and I’m okay with that because I pour my heart and soul into everything I write, but sometimes, I still feel slighted and it sucks.

This has turned into a full-blown confessional, and I’m a little embarrassed to ask this, but do you have any pearls of wisdom for a fellow writer? Thank you in advance for reading this atrocious confessional and I hope you will be kind in your response.

Dear Anon,  there’s so much in your confessional that speaks directly to my own experience that I hardly know where to start.  So let’s start here…you are the kind of person without whom fandom would be nothing.  It’s people like you, people who create and contribute, and who support other creators and contributors, that make fandom the magical experience that it can be, despite all the drama and the bullshit.  However I know that’s cold comfort if you feel your own creative efforts are overlooked or unappreciated.  My standard advice to anyone writing online, is to write for yourself first and foremost and don’t get too caught up with hits, and likes and kudos, because online attention is notoriously fickle.  It’s also important to remember that attention is no indication of quality and vice versa.  That’s easier said than done though, and I often struggle to follow that advice myself.  Sometimes I look at some of the writing I’ve published over the years and wonder why that one only got a grand total of two comments.  At the same time, it’s hard not to compare your own writing to others, and to begin to wonder why yours doesn't get the same kind of reaction.   It’s only natural to feel like that, so don’t beat yourself up about it, but also try not to dwell on it.  I’m not sure I can offer any practical advice because you’re already doing everything I would recommend; focusing on your own writing, actively inviting comments, appreciating those comments you do get, supporting other writers by leaving comments on their works.  The only other thing I can suggest is to build up your own small fandom community wherever you hang out online.  I’m a firm believer that the best way to enjoy a supportive fandom experience is through small communities.

Which brings me on the wider issue that many fandoms are grappling with right now and your question “why don’t readers comment and how can I get them to?”  With the demise of platforms such as LJ, which allowed closed fandom communities to flourish, fandom moved to public platforms such as tumblr, twitter and now tik tok, where it’s exponentially harder to build supportive communities and curate and control your own fandom experiences.  AO3 is an interesting case in point. AO3 was always intended to be an archive, based on the assumption was that fandom communities, which supported comments and feedback, would always exist elsewhere.  However many of those communities have either disappeared or, by necessity, moved into public spaces where it’s much, much harder to facilitate supportive interaction.  I do wonder if discord may be changing that dynamic again though.  Anyway, I suspect you’re aware of all this already, but it bears repeating.

I also want to pick up on your point about digital emotional labour, because this is something that I’ve written about as part of my day job. Emotional labour has always been regarded as women’s work, and as a result, it is habitually devalued and taken for granted, and I don’t think it’s any coincidence that fanfic, which is predominantly written by women, is routinely derided and written off as being inconsequential at best and embarrassing at worst.  Even within fandom circles, it’s easy to feel that the writing is undervalued in comparison to other forms to creative works. It’s not an uncommon observation that popular writers rarely get the kind of exposure that popular artists enjoy.  However, I’m not sure that’s a helpful comparison.  It is interesting though that writing commissions have never become as acceptable or commonplace as art commissions, and I’m honestly not sure why that should be.

Anyway, I’m straying way off topic here, and I have no idea if any of this is remotely relevant or helpful.  All I can say is to keep writing, keep writing the things you enjoy, keep reaching out to people, and take active steps to create your own positive fandom experience. Thank you for trusting me with your thoughts Anon and I wish you well with your writing, now and in the future.  

[ladymacbethsspot]

The first time that Erwin saw him, they were both children. They were in different schools, and they were both touring the capital building on separate field trips. But they found each other at the water fountain. They both stared. They forgot to drink any water. Neither of them moved until their teachers insisted. And they swapped glances over their shoulders while they were pulled away from each other.

Erwin remembered him and didn’t understand why. He thought that the boy must have lived near him. That wasn’t the case. He couldn’t find him again.

Twelve years later, Erwin was in a concert venue that was so crowded that he sweated through his shirt before the first band finished playing. The liquor that had been poured down the back of his shirt made him feel sticky. He couldn’t get a good breath with so many people around him, but he helped to pass along crowd surfers anyway. He could feel the music in his bones. The shared adrenaline of the room made his entire body throb. The headliner stepped onto the stage, and the crowd pushed forward.

Erwin felt someone pressed harshly into his right side. He lifted his arm to give the person room to move. When he looked down, Levi looked up at him. They stared again. Then, Levi leaned towards him and yelled something. Erwin couldn’t hear him. Before he could lean down, the hardest part of the best song began. The crowd began to part. Levi grabbed Erwin’s bicep so hard that sweat squeezed from the cotton of his shirt. Erwin grabbed a fistful of Levi’s shirt. Someone else wrapped their arms around Levi’s waist and pulled him away. Levi slipped out of his shirt. Erwin dropped it to move after him. The crowd was faster. Erwin watched while Levi was picked up and put on top of the crowd. Levi fought. The crowd carried him anyway.

A mosh pit began, and Erwin pushed away from it, keeping his eyes on Levi. The music increased to an impossible volume. He watched Levi float on top of the crowd around the mosh pit. When he saw Levi fall down into the crowd on the other side of the pit, he forced his way past three layers of people. He moved into the pit. A man threw a fist at him, and Erwin put his boot into the man’s ankle. No one took another shot at him while he moved through the pit. On the other side of the parted crowd, Erwin searched for him. He was gone.

After the concert, Erwin insisted that his group of friends wait with him outside of the venue. They stayed with him for an hour before they ditched him to go to the bar. He smoked half of a pack of cigarettes waiting for Levi to find him. Levi didn’t come. When there were only a few sparse groups of people left outside of the building, Erwin felt a pain in his right arm. He put the cigarette between his lips to hold it while he lifted his right sleeve. Levi had left fingerprint bruises and shallow, bloody scratches on his skin. Erwin exhaled smoke.

That night, at home, he took off his shirt and looked at the marks in the mirror. He searched for Levi online until the sun came up. He couldn’t remember everything. But he could remember the nights Levi would come to his room. He remembered the desk in his office. The lingering scent of black tea. He remembered the way Levi’s hair looked when it was stuck to his forehead with sweat. He knew the way Levi tasted. And that was enough to keep him hopeful for a year. Then, he stopped looking.

Three years later, Erwin leaned over and snorted the line of coke on the bar. When he stood upright, the bottle of Rush was pushed under his nose. He closed his eyes, pressed his other nostril shut, and inhaled until he felt himself stop thinking. The flood of heat in his face made him smile, and he leaned back in his chair. Erwin grabbed his boyfriend by the hair and shoved his tongue into his mouth. His hips bucked involuntarily, and they were laughing when their mouths parted. His boyfriend leaned over the bar. Erwin saw Levi on the other side of the room.

Levi’s mouth was pressed against another man’s, and both of his hands were pulling on the man’s belt buckle. Erwin stood from his chair, and his boyfriend caught him just before he fell. He heard laughter, and he felt himself being moved. He pushed. The man kissed down Levi’s neck. Levi leaned his head back and opened his eyes. Levi’s lips parted. His hips moved. Erwin tried to be seen. He needed Levi to see him. He opened his mouth and no sound came. He felt himself being picked up. He felt drool running down his chin.

Erwin watched the ceiling pass by while he was carried out of the bar. Outside, he waited for Levi to find him while he counted stars. Then, he was being pushed into a cab.

The next night, Erwin went back to the bar and asked the bartender about Levi. No one had ever seen him before. Erwin went to the bar every night, with and without his boyfriend. His boyfriend hated it. Erwin ended the relationship. He kept looking.

For three more months, Erwin went to the bar every night. Levi never showed. He stopped looking again.

A year later, he finished his Master’s degree. He met his future wife.

Four years later, he had a wife and a son and a daughter. They had his eyes and her hair. He was working on his doctorate, and he had a small office in the University. His days were routine and scheduled. He loved helping to bathe the kids and put them to bed. He felt an ache in his chest with every goodnight kiss. His favorite part of the day was having a glass of wine with his wife after the babies were in bed. Her laugh made him smile. Her head on his chest made it easy to sleep.

One evening, Levi’s mugshot was on the news. Erwin almost knocked his wine glass over  when he grabbed the remote to increase the volume. She complained that he would wake the kids. He memorized Levi’s legal name.

“Do you know that guy, Ellis?” she asked. Erwin shook his head.

“No,” he said. He turned the volume down again. “I thought I did.”

“You don’t know anyone like that,” she said. He smiled at her.

“Like what?”

“I hope you don’t know anyone who’s dumb enough to try and rob a bank,” she said. He kept smiling, but he felt the resentment take root. He wanted to start a fight with her. He wanted her to regret the words. And he hated it. He resisted it. He tried to force himself to forget. He changed the subject. They watched her favorite movie. He rubbed her feet. He took her to bed and kept her awake all night. She spent twenty minutes combing the knots from her hair the next morning. The makeup that he wouldn’t give her time to remove was smudged all over their wet sheets.

Erwin sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the water running while she showered. He thought about Levi while he rested his head in his hands.

His routine helped to distract him. Erwin didn’t deviate from his normal schedule. That’s how he was able to resist for so long.

In December, Erwin couldn’t stop himself. He looked up the address of the penitentiary. He researched how he should address the letter. He read all of the rules about things that might stop Levi from receiving mail. Erwin put pen to paper. Over and over again.

Hello

Dear

My name

I’ve seen you so many times

Do you believe

I think I know you

I have to try

Erwin threw all of the crumpled pieces of paper in the garbage. He pulled out a single index card and wrote on the lined side.

Is your name Levi Ackerman?

-Erwin Smith

He sealed the index card in the envelope and sent it out with the mail that day.

Two days later, Erwin flipped through his mail at work. He ripped open the envelope as soon as he saw it. The same index card that he had used had been sent back to him. A response was written under his own words.

I can get visitors on Sundays from 13:00 to 17:00.

-Levi

Erwin pulled a sheet of notebook paper from his desk. He put his pen to the paper and stared at the response. Levi’s handwriting was just the same. It was beautiful. Erwin looked away from the index card, and the pictures in frames on his desk caught his eye. He stared at his wife’s image. The pictures of his children stung. They had his eyes and her hair. His jaw went slack. His heart broke painfully. He imagined going to the prison to see Levi. He imagined living with his wife until his children were older. Levi could get out of prison in fifteen years with good behavior. He imagined the entire betrayal. The divorce papers. His mouth felt dry, and his eyes felt wet. Erwin closed his mouth and swallowed. He blinked until he could see clearly.

I can’t

Levi, I tried to find you but

I’m marri

I want

I have two

I didn’t think you were real

I want to murder every man who has ever seen you orgasm

I’m so sorry

I can’t wait

Why did

I shouldn’t have written

Erwin looked at the sheet of paper with broken words. His eyes turned to the index card.

I’ll see you on Sunday.

- Erwin

[ladymacbethsspot]

Summary: Levi thinks his crush on the handsomest History teacher in the high school will never go anywhere. He friend-zoned himself years ago and tells himself he's comfortable like that- really. But when an outbreak of something strange hits the school and Erwin gets sick, everything changes.

AO3 Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - High School, high school caste AU, Zombies, zombie!erwin, Janitor Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Teacher Erwin Smith, History Teacher Erwin Smith, Pining, Angst, Grief, this ain't your average zombie movie, Explicit Sexual Content

[ladymacbethsspot]

Summary:  Erwin and Levi are enjoying a relaxing vacation in a tropical paradise when Erwin strains his back. Luckily, his former-masseuse husband knows exactly how to take care of his Old Man.

~~~

Sun, sand, and salt- lying out on a blanket by the ocean was harder work that Erwin had expected, and by afternoon he was ready for a little bit of privacy and shade. It’s not that his vacation was going poorly- just the opposite, in fact. So far it was perfect. He’d scuba dived the reefs with Levi on Monday, taken a tour into the jungles to wander through ruins and giant stone ziggurats on Tuesday, and was thoroughly enjoying the day they’d set aside to tan and read on the beach. But the sun always took more out of him than he expected- in a good way- and by noon he felt deliciously warm and lazy.

“I’m going up to the balcony,” he told Levi, rolling over and standing.

“Good idea. I could use a shower,” Levi responded, lifting his sunglasses an inch above his eyes to look up at Erwin. “Been sweating like a pig, and I’m covered in sea salt,” he grumbled, idly fingering the damp ends of the ponytail pulling dark strands up and back above his undercut. “Jesus, there’s even salt in my hair. I don’t know how you do it- lying out here all day. I’ve can barely take 30 minutes.”

“Ah, practice,” Erwin chuckled, remembering the whole morning of his husband’s restless back and forth- from jumping into the ocean and paddling around to trotting back up the beach and laying down on his towel just to repeat the cycle again as soon as he started getting too hot. “A good book also helps,” he added, bending down to collect his paperback and sunscreen before shaking the sand from his towel and stuffing them all into his backpack. “You really need to learn to relax, Levi,” he said as he straightened, stopping midway to a loud – CRACK –

“Oh- Ah!- geez,” he complained, feeling something shift in his spine, accompanied by a nauseating seize in his muscles. They tightened all at once, spasming painfully as his jaw clenched shut. “What? What’s going on?” he wondered through gritted teeth, hand pressed to his lower back. As he tried to straighten it flared- sharp pain shooting to the base of his neck. “What- is this?” he groaned, panting through the discomfort, as Levi scrambled to his feet...

[ladymacbethsspot]

Summary:  Erwin has just moved to a sleepy little town in coastal New England. Levi, however, has been living there for a very long time.

AO3 Tags:  Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, VampiresHuman/Vampire Relationship, Mages, vampire!levi, Mage!Erwin, Getting Together, New England, Explicit Sexual Content, Blood Magic, Blood Drinking, Mild Blood, soft blood play, good thing there are so many tags for blood guys

[ladymacbethsspot]

Summary: Levi borrows Erwin's clothes, drinks his liquor, smokes his cigars, and orders him around. And Erwin is more than happy to put on a show for the Captain.

~~~

“I’m home!” Erwin called into the front hall, bending down to pull off his dress shoes.

“About time.” The bored tone of Levi’s voice floated from the living room. Erwin sighed. He hadn’t meant to work so late, not on New Year’s Eve. He’d promised Levi they’d have dinner together, but then it had been seven p.m., and eight, and finally nine. Someone had ordered pizza, and before he’d known it he was rushing to catch the last commuter train home. The cars had all been blessedly empty, for once he’d been able to get a seat, and the drunken revelers would all be stuck downtown until the next morning. Still, it was almost eleven. He hadn’t meant to work so late, Erwin silently berated himself again, loosening his tie as he wandered into the living room to join his husband.

“How long have you been waiting?” He asked, dreading Levi’s answer.

“Oh, about… two and a half glasses of gin,” Levi purred. Erwin’s head snapped toward his voice. It was unexpected- Levi didn’t sound angry. Instead he sounded-

Erwin’s mouth fell open. There sat Levi- perched on the arm of their leather couch, Erwin’s black velvet smoking jacket draped over him, a crystal glass of gin in his hand. Smoking jacket- and nothing else. Tiny, bare feet, muscular legs, the edge of the velvet brocade jacket skimmed the tops of his thighs, barely covering his groin. Erwin gaped. The jacket was meant to be worn over pajamas, or something- anything. Instead it had merely been tied loosely closed, its open collar revealing a wide V of Levi’s chest. Pale skin flecked with dark hair drew Erwin’s eyes to Levi’s pecs as he stood rooted to the spot, unable to do anything but stare...

[ladymacbethsspot]

Summary:  Levi only uses the sauna late at night, but one night when he goes to enjoy his night-time ritual someone else is already there, waiting.

~~~

Levi knew the sounds of night well. The hollow beat of boots on flagstone in the hall, the sound of iron hinges creaking shut, the lonely strands of conversation that grew fainter and died away as the hours wore on. It sounded different than the daytime. As the number of soldiers awake in the barracks dwindled, every sound grew sharper, crisper, without the presence of bodies or the busyness of training to muffle it. Each noise stood out in the night’s blackness, and Levi heard every one.

He shifted in his chair. Sleep wasn’t coming tonight, either. And it was well past the last time he’d heard any sign of his comrades. The stone halls were silent for the night. Levi sighed. He might get to sleep later, it was still possible, but the chances were getting thinner. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to sleep in the first place.

If he slept, he might dream.

So, he was stuck: awake. Like a golem, just waiting- for his next order, his next task. It felt as though he waited for everyone else who was really alive to wake up again and the world to resume its ponderous march. Levi closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. He willed himself to relax, sinking slightly into the wooden back of the chair. But it just felt hard. As tired as he was, Levi couldn’t force himself to sleep- it didn’t work that way.

Giving up for the night, as he did many nights, Levi opened his eyes and stood. He slipped off the shirt he wore to sleep and shook the creases out, folding it efficiently before placing it onto his bed. He swapped it for the small, tidy pile next to it, pulling on his uniform’s underwear, socks, trousers, and button-up shirt before he straightened back up. From his shelves he gathered his things for bathing: a towel, a washcloth, and his most prized bar of soap. It had been a gift, an unexpected one from Erwin. It smelled expensive. As he placed his things in a small basin, Levi lifted the bar of soap to his nose for a moment, holding it close to catch its scent. Hints of sandalwood and citrus floated from it, and Levi breathed deep, savoring its essence. He barely had half the bar left, but Levi dismissed any disappointment from his thoughts- gifts were meant to be enjoyed. A pair of black leather shoes, their soles soft and quiet from use, completed his preparations, and Levi snuck from his room, closing the door soundlessly as he went...

[ladymacbethsspot]

Maybe I should... post the links... to my more-recent writing

[ladymacbethsspot]

<3

Comission for @/Mmemacbethsspot on Twitter

[ladymacbethsspot]

Erwin has just moved to a sleepy little town in coastal New England. Levi, however, has been living there for a very long time.

Thicker than Water by @ladymacbethsspot

[ladymacbethsspot]

I’d also like to add these Eruri fics I’ve enjoyed:

The Astronomer’s Winter Over by @minxiebutt​ (background Mikenana)

Search and Rescue by @world-war-eruri​ (Mobuhan- and Moblit narrates!)

Good day Lost! I hope you’re happy and well in these hard times. Can you recommend any Eruri-centric fics that also involves other vet ships like Mikenana and Mobuhan? I love love love the dynamics of the six of them and the veterans are my favorite characters from the series. Much love and thank you so much in advance!

Hey Anon, sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you. Here’s some fics featuring the Veterans, including some of my all time favourites. 

Wild-Type by @merkase

Living Things by IohannaFacTotum, @merkase

Things Change by @shadowgale96

A Halloween Tail by @ladymacbethsspot

Birthday Boy by @ladymacbethsspot

The Wedding Singer by justeruriforever

Mail Order Spy by @35gramsperliter

Different Stars by @thefangirlingdead

Spellbound by @ladymacbethsspot

For a Loop by @ellabesmirched

The Laws of Survival by @pasiphile​

Wall of Death  by @lostcauses-noregrets

Sealskin by @lostcauses-noregrets