celibate because I don't give a fuck


Your BBC AU is awesome. It is a large part of why I'm writing what amounts to Faunus Mafia Blake.



Im really incredibly blown away by the quality of your writing, I’m super excited to see what more you have in store. Like it immediately grabbed me, you’re an excellent writer.

Also, I hesitate to label BBC as “mine” since Bonpyro came up with it, though I think the fic I wanna write deviates from her original idea a bit!!!! But yeah omg mafia blake is so good wtf

Ah, okay, I wasn’t sure who drew/did what first because I went backwards through the tag, but both of you, yes good ideas. And thank you. :3



I saw someone say that something called “Warbound: Book III of the Grimnoir Chronicles” was nominated for a Hugo and I assumed they were making fun of the book’s actual (and presumably less absurd) title, but nope:


throws up her hands

Okay, I have to wake up semi-early to have some Easter breakfast with my friends, so I’m gonna head to bed. 

theivorytowercrumbles said:yes it is, I fell in a Checkmating trench and can’t get out, hold me

Don’t you worry about the dark, I will light up the night with the love in my heart.

That being said, if you keep writing amazing stories like that, I’m gonna (gently) nudge you with a stick anytime it looks like you might be climbing out. 

In The Blood 1/4 [Blake/Weiss]


Debole: Literally “weak”. The foible, or the half of the blade closer to the sword’s point. The role of the debole is primarily offensive: apart from its obvious purpose in the thrust, the debole should be employed in its entirety when delivering cuts.


Through the tinted windows of the limousine, Vale was cast in grey. Washed out buildings blended into the washed out street, the shadows of passerby indistinguishable from one another. Weiss kept her eye on each passing corner, counting how many blocks they’d driven past. Father had refused to inform her where they were going, offering nothing more than a stern warning to pay attention.

She ran her thumb along the sweep of Myrtenaster’s hilt for the hundredth time. There was comfort in the steel laying heavy against her thigh, fingers daring close to the embedded barrel. In seventeen years, from the first day she thrust a dinner knife pretending it was a foil, Father had never permitted her to carry a weapon around other people, lest his daughter be mistaken for a common huntress. Their practices were always in private, grueling endeavors that lasted until her arm shook and her stance buckled. Thus Weiss had learned two important lessons; the value of endurance and that a Schnee was never supposed to lose. A double-edged sword when the competition was one’s father.

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theivorytowercrumbles Hold up, is that checkmating? 

aircavalry141 said: LOL OMG That doesn’t sound short even for me. Congrats anyways!

To be fair, a lot of it was essentially ‘this is this character, these are their parents, this is what horrible thing happens to them, oh dang son check out that imagery’ repeated for like fifteen different characters. But thank you, I’m actually kind of proud now that it’s over. 

funblade said: Congrats! You did it! Congratulatory smooch!

Gross, sloppy smooches, bb. 

2,662 characters later. I did it. I’m done. ;u;

Noot noooooot. How ya doin?

Stressing a bit over exams, but I can’t complain. Thanks for asking.