when's my time


alec looking at magnus ( 5 / ?? )


i honestly was gonna do the art and post the same time as snow’s but eehhh i was so busy +lazy to do it!   lolol sorrryyyy q-q

but ahhh thank u so much for being such an inspiration for me!

i have been such a fan since idk 2015?? i used to not have tumblr lol xD but i liked your art so much. i always adore them whenever i see them they’re so aesthetic ?! i love the colours background (both simple and detailed) THEY’RE JUST SOOO GOOAALLLSS TAT!! i really wish i could be just like you. such gud art skills damn

but aaahh hope you like this ;w;

airi’s design is so cute and pretty and aesthetic i love eeerrr <3

have a weird random doodle???

⚜️//On and on the ravens flew, even to the misty lakeside manor where THE COUNTESS dwelled. It was said that she felt no warmth, no cold, no joy, and no sorrow.//⚜️

Sometimes I really love my generation because I was at a documentary showing tonight and the class song for the main subject’s graduation was “Hey Now” from the Lizzie McGuire Movie and literally everyone in the room started singing along with them and it was fantastic.


perfectly imperfect (baby, that’s love)

Burn the castle to the ground
All the cries, alibis
It’s our time

The man before him was shorter, but not by much. From what Victor could measure with his eyes, he was a little narrower in the shoulders, too. Victor could overpower him if needed, he’d venture a guess. Except… the man was a smith. Even with the shirt sleeves only rolled to his elbows, just by the muscles of his forearms, Victor could tell he was strong. How strong? That was difficult to estimate, but Victor had no doubts that if they fought with pure strength, it would be a fairly difficult win for him.

Luckily, he did not intend to fight fair.

“You’re the one they are hunting,” the man said, eyes wide in recognition. “The pirate.”

Victor cocked his head to the side as he smiled. “In person. Good day, Mister Smith.”

“Why are you here? What do you want?”

The change was immediate. From what Victor had guessed was a lax attitude and a shy heart, the smith turned into a calculated adversary that matched Victor’s gaze with narrowed, careful eyes.

If only he had more time to play…

“You look somewhat familiar. Have I threatened you before?” Victor asked. The man had black hair and brown eyes – characteristics of many. And yet, there was something unique about him. Something that made Victor pay attention.

The smith’s eye twitched and his lip curled in disgust.

“I make a point of avoiding familiarity with pirates.”

“Ah,” Victor smiled, amused and a tad regretful. “Then it would be a shame to put a black mark on your record. So if you’ll excuse me…”

Victor backed a step, but just as he turned to leave he heard the sound of a blade being drawn. He looked over his shoulder to see a sword sitting in the smith’s hand like it was made for it. The point was steadily measured at him. A practiced hold.

Victor couldn’t hold back a grin of excitement.

“Do you think this wise, Mister Smith? Crossing blades with a pirate?” he asked, stepping in a circle around the smith.

“I can’t just let you leave,” the smith replied, face grim.

“So be it,” Victor bowed.

The blades clashed, metal against metal, loud in the otherwise silent workshop. Victor slashed his sword through the air, bearing the full weight of his swing on the other man, who, to his surprise, matched him step for step. They sparred for a while, equally matched, until loud banging on the door made them part. Yet even then, their eyes remained locked and Victor could swear the wheels of the universe turned right then and there.

“I guess that’d be it for today,” he hummed, stepping back towards where he remembered seeing the backdoor. “You’re a fine craftsman, Mister Smith. Wish I could stay, maybe get to see you work, but sadly, duty calls.”

He tipped his hat and twirled on his heel, rushing towards the door. There was shouting from the workshop front, where Victor had no doubt soldiers was already gathering to apprehend him. The whoosh of air was his only warning before the very same blade the smith had been holding jhim back with just seconds ago embedded itself deep into the wood of the door. Right next to Victor’s head. It was stuck in there, swaying from right to left with the sheer force of the throw.

Eyes wide, Victor turned to the smith, whose face had morphed into a tiny smirk that… really had no reason to look this attractive, yet it did.  

“That was brilliant,” Victor praised, taking an unconcious step towards the man. “But you got rid of the one thing that could stop me from killing you and leaving.”

He pulled out his pistol, aiming it into the middle of the smith’s chest. He didn’t want to kill him, but the noises from the outside got louder. The door rattled.

“Move away,” Victor asked.

“No,” the man replied, his eyes shining hard like the steel he carved day by day.

“Please, move,” Victor tried again. He pulled the safety. The gun loaded. “This shot is not meant for you.”

Before either of them could react, Victor heard a shift behind his back. And that was it. Something hard smacked him on the back of his head and the last thing he saw before collapsing was the smith’s eyes: warm brown like a finely aged rum. A beautiful death.

Person on forums: Would anyone like to draw my OC? I’d love to see them in different styles.
Me, thinking: What a cute OC, I think I’ll draw–
Person bumping their post in the forums after only five hours: No one wants to draw them? ;~;
Me: Lol, I suddenly don’t want to draw this OC anymore.

i just got back from seeing john mulaney live (!!!!!!!! side note HE WAS SO GOOD) and just  ….. wow …. … i cried from laughter but im bout to cry from Realization

the biggest tragedy of my life is that Marx’s character is not property of Type Moon

my most luxurious, fantastical fantasy is a world where Marx is in FGO and not in a character-based mobile game that doesn’t care about its characters