Tom Holland

tom holland <3 • {cc: @gracescott198 } • • • tags:// @tomholland2013 • #editor #edit #edited #edits #editorials #edit #tom #holland #tomholland #tomhollandedits #23rdbirthday #spiderman #peterparker #birthday #ironman #endgame #endgame #memes #walkingmeme (at Far From Home) https://www.instagram.com/p/B1FSL2kAhqd/?igshid=qeyl3walvej6

In Honor of Pride Month

draco: i was not consumed by the gay agenda

draco: [turns around wearing rainbow sunglasses] i AM the gay agenda

he’s so cute 🥺🥺😭😭

(basically my way of keeping up with the series!!)

CLEMENTINE — LEON S. KENNEDY

you’re a single mom who lives two doors down. leon thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

part one — word count: 3k

part two —

part three —

part four —

part five —

part six —

general warnings: modern au, fem!reader, reader is clementine’s birth mother, neighbors -> friends -> lovers, fluff, hurt/comfort, slowburn, mutual pining, eventual smut, angst, age gap ( reader is 20, leon is 27 ), general mom struggles.

each part will have specific content warnings!

note(s): i’ve been meaning to do a series, and after wracking my brain for what seems like forever; i came up with this. my baby fever has been through the roof, so what better way than to write through it with my most favorite man in the world?

also hi, think of this as a tiny small thank you for 1k. literally last month we were at 800. it makes my heart so happy to know that you guys liked my work enough to want to stick around for more. i promise i’ll do something bigger once we hit our next milestone, i pinky promise. thank you all again, sending kisses and hugs! mwah mwah mwah!!

— venus <3

if you weren't diabetic before, you are now

The Fair Wants You To Die🎪🎟🤢

Charred Bone and Ash

Summary: Asra goes looking for someone who is long gone

Content Warnings: a lot asra/mc angst

Inspired by Florence Welch’s poem, “Body of Water”

Author’s Note: major props to @drdevorakwrites and her piece about asra that reminded me about the magic compass! you can read it here

Yeah you know that last Arcana update still really hurts

Every time Asra imagined coming to this island, he thought it would be to meet his death. Every time, he was surrounded by scarlet eyes and blood-stained lips, the sickly sweet smell of death filling his lungs.

Now, he was in a small rowboat, with his hand in submerged in midnight waves and nothing but these malicious waves, the smell of ash, and an enchanted compass to keep him company.

The sea is still our violent mother.

Now, he did not come here to die. He came in search of life in a land where only ghosts survived.

The hull of Asra’s boat ground against the sand, coarse and stained black with ash. The fraying rope in his hands rubbed his icy palms raw as he dragged his boat to shore. A hulking grey structure towered before him, lit from within by flickering flames as smoke smothered the sky and snuffed out the life of burning stars.

There was no sound, but the whispers of the dead filled his ears. This island was home to unimaginable suffering and the air was tainted with insurmountable sorrow and pain.

The blood round here pours down like water.

Asra pulled out his compass, the cold metal biting into his skin as the needle spun and wavered, lingering on the crematorium before settling to point toward some spot on the beach.

The compass never lied.

Heart in his chest, he followed the trembling needle along the water’s edge, swells of the obsidian sea crashing against the shore.

Each wave a lamb lead to the slaughter.

Asra stepped around irregular mounds of sand as he went, the icy cold fingers of dread trailing over the exposed skin of the back of his neck with goosebumps rising in their wake. He knew what those lumps were.

Graves.

The needle quivered, then swung around to point behind him.

Asra froze. No…

He stepped backwards and the needle spun again. No matter where he went, the compass always directed him to the same point.

Asra sunk to his knees, a sandy grave before him. No…it couldn’t be true. It couldn’t…He refused to believe it. Not you…Please, not you.

And like children that she just can’t teach…

Asra began to dig, ragged breaths drawing through his ground teeth and over pleading lips.

It can’t be true.

We break.

There was nothing but black sand and more black sand. How long had it been? It scraped his fingertips and chipped away at his nails until they were far past the quick, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He kept digging. “Please, no.”

And break.

Asra could no longer see straight, his tears blurring his vision and spilling over his white lashes and into the sand, mixing with the crimson blood that seeped from his fingertips. He was crying and he was sobbing and he didn’t know how to stop. All he knew was that he couldn’t stop digging.

And break.

The sand began to cling to him, black dust staining his arms and mixing in with his blood.

No. Not sand. Not dust.

Ash.

“No.” Asra moaned, a low and guttural sound scraped raw and full of pain. He couldn’t even recognize it. It’s wasn’t him and this wasn’t her. It couldn’t be.

Specks of white stood out against black sand. Oh god… Asra reached out to brush away the ash, his trembling fingers leaving scarlet streaks on the stark white surface.

Bone.

And we b r e a k ourselves upon the beach.

Everything hurt.

Someone was screaming, loud, raw. and tortured. Asra pressed his hands against his ears, blood staining his colorless hair. Whoever it was, they were screaming and screaming, and Asra would have clawed at his ears if he had any nails left, just to make it stop.

And then Asra realized. It was him. He was screaming. He was alone on the Lazaret surrounded by unmarked graves with charred bone and ash sifting through his fingertips.

And the one he loved most was dead.