#gem rereads the watch

[cakesandfail]

Angua has massive 'the one with the brain cell' vibes, not because she's the token girl at this point in the series but because she's the one who's most like Vimes

#gem rereads the watch #i will be hollering about this at length when i get to jingo probably

[epicfranb]

Remember Gem's beehive origin? It wasn't a bee origin, i think the text said it was a lot of bees holding together a form. But my headcanon, which i would've explored more if not for insectophobia, is that she's literally.. a hive. Like, the bees straight up makes home inside of her. That gave me an idea for an urban fantasy new life au, and the irony is that i literally wanted to do the same thing with origins smp, but i accidentally recreated kagepro and i was never the same person again. Either way, didn't go past the ideas stage on both things. I literally want an urban fantasy au so bad but kagepro is literally my only inspo for that 🤷‍♂️ so there's that

#new life was so cool like. you had sausage being a fire mage and reborn as a phoenix. #pearl being a star girl and shubble being sunshine girl #pearl getting to like the copper origin dying then dying again and reborn as a copper origin again #pearl and owen being copper golems at the same time #whatever the fuck oli was up to #stacy living in her remote nether house in the middle of a lava lake #martyn and shubble and some others probably stayed on their first lives for the whole series #fire mage gem and owen's entire story arc and shubble's greenhouse and joey's entire 1st episode and the houses at spawn #and joel choosing strange names and pooping skeleton horses and jimmy being The Guy of The Week and the toy boxes martyn kept making #and messing with create and immersive paintings and the freezing fridge freezers or whatever #i probably would've loved/will love afterlife if i ever watch it. sad that new life didn't work out tho #thanks for reading my rambles tho i loved watching that series and just now recounting my favorite moments #ain't rereading all that tho so if i wrote some nonsense or the autocorrect thing messed up. oh well #life updates

[flatstarcarcosa]

speaking of clive, i briefly considered having a ‘well, what if-’ moment when i started plotting for our run in with him but honestly his canonical death is so fucking funny i couldn’t think of anything that was better.

getting gutted on his own barricade while yelling into a bullhorn about how Big and Bad and Mean and Scary he is by a fucking not-joking-genuinely-certifiably-insane-junkie is better than anything i could ever come up with.

#txt.txt #reelix au: the good the bad & the dead #please note i am using junkie in this context VERY lovingly #foxy is a gem and i adore her. she's the manic pixie dream girl except not really she exists as a commentary on the entire concept of them #and her story ends with her beginning to heal and regaining her own agency as a person and accepting that she's never going to be whole #again but that maybe that's okay. maybe it's okay because she also won't ever be used as nothing but a weapon again. #also since i haven't mentioned it recently her backstory novella of the day the dead came to show and tell is so #[clenches fist] you will read it and you will cry and then you will go to reread it later on and say you're not gonna cry this time #and then you FUCKING DO and this is a COMPLIMENT #if you haven't read anything for newsflesh/the rising series and a whole main trilogy + tie in novel + tie in novella compendium #sounds like way too much you could honestly read the day the dead came to show and tell and have enough worldbuilding to follow it #iirc the ebook for it is on google play and probably the app store #[i am dangling a pocket watch in front of you] you want to dip into this series sooooo bad yes you doooooooooooo

[starrgaziinggg]

all I need is you

Hyunjin x reader, established relationship, fluff

-> 1.4k words

You almost don't notice the space beside you being filled. It had been hours, just staring at the city below you as the wind forced goosebumps to rise on your arms. Being alone had never bothered you much until today. Watching groups of friends gossiping around campus on your first day back only fuelled your desire to have a friend group of your own.

Girls you could talk about anything with. Guys that teased you lovingly. A firm body of people around you. It wasn't as though you'd never had friends, it was more so you couldn't find the place you naturally fit in. You were never any good at long term friendships, finding the forced nature of them disconcerting.

Hyunjin drops a hoodie on your lap before nestling in beside you, the make shift outdoor sofa you'd created one bored night being the only source of comfort on your rooftop. Until Hyunjin, of course. His warm aura brings you comfort even on your darkest days.

"Figured you'd be freezing to death up here," he chuckles, grabbing both of your hands in his to warm them. His freshly dyed black hair (a shame to you, since you'd loved the red, but his boss did not) blows into his face as he turns to give you a lopsided grin.

It's almost comical how at ease you feel now he's by your side, your feelings of loneliness evaporating almost instantly. He was a stroke of luck, Hyunjin, seemingly finding you when you needed him most. An art student, working long shifts in a local cafe to get by, who'd become a recluse voluntarily.

The bookstore you'd first met in was always desolate. You'd no idea how the small gem managed to stay afloat, since you were almost always the only person that bothered to give it time. It was one of your favourite places, the sole owner knowing you by name.

Six chapters into rereading your favourite book and there he was, nudging your foot with his as he flopped onto the beanbag beside you.

"Heaven, by Mieko Kawakami," he read aloud, tilting his head at you inquisitively. "Any good?"

A couple seconds after the shock of a gorgeous man interrupting your evening routine, you nod slowly.

"It's my favourite," you had replied in a small voice, confused as to why this god crafted human being was in a run down bookshop behind your apartment block, and why he was giving you the time of day.

"Tell me about it," he's said, shrugging his shoulders and leaning back, patiently waiting.

So you delved into a ramble about the basis of the book and why it meant so much to you, the premise of morality and why people do the things they do. And the whole time Hyunjin, as you'd come to discover his name, sat listening intently, nodding along without interrupting once.

When you'd concluded, realising you had been speaking much longer than you probably should have been, he raised his eyebrows.

"You know, I was never any good at English in school. I slept through every book analysis my dull ass English teacher ever attempted. And, I actually only came in here because it's one of the only stores in the area that has this art book I need, but I could probably listen to you talk about how to tie my own shoelaces and still be entranced."

The shellshock of Hyunjin's immediate interest in you took weeks to dissipate. You'd talked until the owner of the bookstore told you (lovingly) to beat it, and then some. The next day, you'd completed your summer university coursework in the cafe he worked at until his shift finished and then walked aimlessly around the area, never running out of topics to discuss.

And that was that. Within months you knew everything about each other. He took you to his favourite museum one day, explaining the intricacies behind every painting, and all you could do was watch him in awe. He walked you home, told you you were his favourite person in the universe, and kissed you because he meant it.

You'd never thought of yourself as a lucky person, but in that moment it was as though all your good karma had willed itself into existence.

"What's going on inside that head, pretty?" He says now, tilting your head up with his finger to meet his gaze.

"Nothing majorly substantial," you reply lazily, kissing his nose lightly and making him laugh. You tug on the jumper he'd brought you, a thick hoodie he'd bought recently, as he pulls an arm around your shoulders.

"Every thought you have is substantial," he says matter-of-factly, turning back to look at the view. The city noises dulled as he spoke, car horns and music white noise in the distance. "Even the ones about cats and why they're better than dogs."

"They are," you glare at him, which he just rolls his eyes at. You sit in silence for a couple minutes, enjoying his company as he traces circles on your bare legs absentmindedly. "How was your shift today?"

"Same old," he replies, pulling a hand through his disheveled hair. "You should come in after your classes tomorrow, sit with me behind the counter."

"You're lucky your boss likes you," you chuckle, bumping his shoulder lightly with yours. "I'm there every other day."

"Chan doesn't care," Hyunjin assures with a smile. "He likes you. He actually invited you along to our work night out next weekend."

"He did?" You ask, your attention piquing.

Hyunjin hums in response. "Yeah, but it will be a whole lot of Riki terrorising everyone and risking getting himself fired," he laughs. "That kid is a menace."

"Do you want me to come?" You ask sincerely, doe eyes blinking up at the man you were wholeheartedly in love with. He looks back at you with such adoration your heart physically swells in your chest.

"Of course," he answers instantly, his brows furrowed. "Everyone I work with probably likes you more than they like me. In fact, they've stated it more than once. Plus, I'd get to show off my pretty girlfriend, and I need you for morale support against Riki."

The grin appears of your face quicker than lightening as you nestle your head into Hyunjin's shoulder.

"Sometimes I think I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have you in my life, you know," you mumble. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve you."

You feel Hyunjin shake his head above you, before reaching for your face with both hands and making you stare at him.

"You're perfect, love," he smiles, rubbing his thumb against your cold cheek. "You can be a stubborn thing, but I love you for it. If you could see yourself through my eyes you'd understand why I'm so infatuated with you."

You can't help but to roll your eyes, a natural instinct to any compliment you receive. He shakes you gently as you laugh, as if attempting to rid you of all your negative thoughts.

"Now, get your ass inside your apartment. It's fucking freezing out here, and I'm shattered," he groans, standing up and pulling you along with him.

"You're staying over?" You ask excitedly, knowing he was going to classes early in the morning.

"Duh," he says sassily, leading you through the fire escape after intertwining your hand with his own. "I missed you like crazy at work today. Chan's new no phone rule is kicking my ass and I need a cuddle."

You laugh, following him down the stairs in your apartment building like a puppy. "You're cute today."

"I'm cute everyday," he counters, turning to tilt his head at you. You stop for a second, just staring down at him.

"I love you, you know?" You say, as if he's not already aware of how deep your feelings run for him. He just grins back at you, tugging you down the stairs and into his embrace.

“I love you too, angel,” he replies whilst wrapping his arms tightly around you.

Maybe you would never have the amount of friends you’d always desired. Maybe those deep rooted feelings of loneliness would never fully dissipate. But with Hyunjin by your side, you felt as though you didn’t need anything more.

I wrote this last night and wasn’t going to post it but I think it’s cute so here you go :) sorry for the inactivity, I am swamped rn but I’m trying my best!

#hyunjin x reader #stray kids #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin fluff #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin imagine #hyunjin comfort #stray kids imagines

[cl3fairyyy]

hide and seek || edward nashton / the riddler x fem reader (nsfw !) ⋆｡𖦹°‧★

summary || your sex life recently with edward has been non existent. with him being so focused on his plans for gotham, you have found your needs being neglected. you decide to take initiative and plan a fun game for edward while he's at work.

warnings || SMUT!! there is plot but this is pretty much straight up porn lol. reader and edward role-play a kidnapping scenario but everything is consensual!! slapping, restraints, degradation, light knife play, overstimulation, p in v, pussy eating, choking, hunting(?kind of?), (fake) threats of violence, mentions of stalking, the suit stays ON during sex, some weird purity/ corruption stuff in this idk i think a demon possessed me halfway through writing this. minors please do not interact!!

word count || 4k i did not mean for it to be this long oopsie!!

notes || i haven't written smut in a LONG time so i am so sorry if this is straight up garbage pls go easy on me. recently reread year one and im seriously going insane the hyperfixation is so back guys. i love writing edward so much especially when it comes to writing some nasty porn about him LOL. i srsly had no idea how to end this so its kinda bad sorry D:

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆ ┊ . ˚ ˚★

In recent months, you have found yourself growing increasingly frustrated. For the longest time, you haven’t had the faintest idea of what has been causing this, and that has caused it to manifest itself in various ways throughout your everyday life. You have found yourself much more easily annoyed by the most minor inconveniences, and have had repeated warnings at work to stop arguing with customers over the pettiest of matters. 

One afternoon in late November, whilst attempting to share in your boyfriend’s body heat on the sofa of your freezing living room, watching the news and listening to him ramble about finally ‘revealing the truth,’ it hits you. 

Edward hasn’t fucked you in months. 

Even before this change, you didn’t have the most active sex life- you were both too busy holding down your day jobs whilst simultaneously investigating the corruption poorly concealed beneath Gotham’s cobbled streets. Still, you’d find the time every other week or so to take care of each other. 

You love having sex with Edward; he’s so gentle with you, handling you like a precious gem that will shatter if dropped. He always makes sure your needs are met before he even thinks of himself, worshipping your body with an obsession akin to a deeply faithful Catholic’s love for Christ himself.  

But sometimes... it can get boring. Not as boring as not having sex at all, but boring enough that you often find yourself lying awake at night, longing for Edward to keep up his Riddler persona for just a little while longer after he arrives home from doing whatever he does to have the coppery scent of blood soaking into the walls of your small apartment. 

You know your frustration will only worsen the longer you go without having sex, so you decide to do a small experiment. 

You take the next few days off work, pretending to be sick, and Edward, usually ever attentive to your every need, your Edward, who begins panicking if you all but sniffle the wrong way, barely notices. With your theory proven that his work has been turning him into someone who is evidently not your sweet Edward, you begin doing everything you can for even an ounce of attention from him. You give him shoulder massages after he returns home from a long day at work, cook him his favourite meals, run baths for him, at some point it evolves into you all but throwing yourself at him, and you have to take a step back to reevaluate your approach. Being that desperate for sex is not a good look, especially when your boyfriend is completely oblivious to how horny you are.  

You decide you need to formulate a plan to force him to focus on you. 

It starts with the lingerie. You scour the shopping apps on your phone for an embarrassingly long time, trying to find something perfect. You eventually come across a pretty lilac set, its sheer mesh bra framed with soft ruffles and feminine frills to accentuate your chest, and immediately order it, even begrudgingly spending a little extra for next day delivery. 

The next step of your plan is to come up with a simple puzzle, something stimulating but still to the point- you're so horny that you know the next time you’re in a room with Edward while he still has that Riddler costume on, it’s going to take some real self-restraint to stop yourself from ripping it off him.  

The final step of your plan is waiting for the perfect moment to put everything into action. You realise it isn’t the most complicated or glamorous scheme to ever exist, but if it manages to work and allows you to finally get some action, you won’t be complaining.  

One evening, when it’s well past 5pm, and definitely well past the time Edward should have been home from the office, you get a text from your beloved. 

hi honey, moved tuesday’s plans forward to today. got an opening with savage and cant miss it. will be home late- ill pick up food on my way back. love you. 

we’re finally making some REAL change : ) 

You almost leap out of your chair with excitement, rushing around the apartment to make sure everything is in place for your little game of hide and seek. 

When Edward finally returns home, the apartment is dark- it’s well past 11pm, so he figures you’re in bed. He sighs, setting down the takeaway bag on the coffee table and calling out your name, pausing when you don’t answer. You always wait up for him when he’s running his late-night ‘errands.’ When he thinks about it more, he realises you didn’t even text him back earlier this evening; you’ve been sick, too- what if you collapsed, or had complications, or worse?  

Before he can begin panicking, he finally notices the lit candle on the kitchen counter. Next to it is a piece of paper, which Edward gingerly picks up with shaking hands, reading the five words scrawled across it. 

‘Dear Riddler, 

Come find me.’ 

Confusion clouds Edward’s mind for a moment before he realises that he’s reading your handwriting, and the sweet flowery scent giving him a headache is his favourite perfume of yours. He stands still for a moment, rereading the note as the familiar feeling of want begins to curl in his lower belly. You’ve never actually addressed him as the Riddler before. 

He definitely likes it. 

You crouch uncomfortably in your hiding space beneath the dining table, straining your ears against the silence of the apartment as you try to gauge how Edward has taken your little game based off his breathing. You hear the rustling of fabric and the sound of something zipping up, and realise he must’ve slipped his jacket and mask back on because his breaths are definitely muffled now.  

He begins taking slow, deliberate steps around the apartment, his combat boots loudly thudding on the wooden floorboards as he does so. You suddenly feel very vulnerable in only your undergarments and wonder if this is how his victims must feel, a thrill tingling deliciously up your spine. 

You shift a little in your spot, trying to find a way to crouch comfortably while also remaining out of sight. Your heart pounds so hard in anticipation of being spotted that you’re sure Edward can hear it, especially when his footsteps begin to head towards your hiding spot.  

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the sound of your breathing to an absolute minimum; the silence in your apartment is deafening and, for the first time in all the years you have known him, you begin to feel almost weary of Edward’s presence. In this moment, you’re not just Edward’s partner. 

You’re his prey. 

So wrapped up in your own mind, you don’t hear Edward’s footsteps behind you. You feel two strong, gloved hands grab your hips and rip you out of your thoughts. You squeal giddily as Edward throws you onto the wooden dining table, biting your lip to stifle the giggles that threaten to spill out. 

Edward looms over you, his glasses glinting in the moonlight that seeps into the apartment through the cracks in the blinds. He is completely silent, save for the heavy breaths muffled by his mask. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and raspy, and the sound of it sends tiny shivers of excitement up your arms. 

“I’ve been watching you for so long. Every move you make, I’ve followed from the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to snatch you up. Do you know how hard it’s been? Hearing your pathetic whimpers while you fuck yourself every night, and having to wait until it’s me making you unravel? But now I have you here, all to myself, and no one is around to save you.” 

The sight of him like this, so indescribably large compared to you, looking down on you like a lion that has captured its prey and is about to rip it to shreds- it sends sparks of arousal through you that pool in your sheer underwear. You look up at Edward through your eyelashes, smiling innocently. 

“Looks like you caught me.” 

With that, he drags you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he heads towards your bedroom. Your face burns, unsure of when or how he got so strong, and the anticipation of what he is about to do to you sends tingles of delight down your spine. 

Edward throws you carelessly onto the bed before straddling you. He wordlessly grasps your wrists in one gloved hand, holding them above your head while he rips off a piece of duct tape from the roll that dangles from his belt, and binds them together securely. He subtly tilts his head to the side, and you can read him so well at this point that you know he’s asking if your restraints are too tight. You shake your head, and he immediately melts back into character, sweeping his gaze down your exposed body predatorily.  

His gloved hands reach forward, roughly groping your breasts, pinching and rolling your clothed nipples between his fingers. You squeak, writhing beneath him, deciding to put on a bit of a show with it. 

“P... please, don’t...” you whimper pathetically, bucking your hips into his. You hear him groan under his breath above you, removing one hand from your chest to grip your chin harshly, squishing your cheeks together. “Shut up.” His voice is low and dangerous when he speaks, a complete contrast to the sweet voice Edward usually addresses you with. “You’re trapped here, and no one is coming for you. You can scream as loud as you want, it won’t make a difference.” 

“You’re so pitiful, dressed up like one of those whores on the street just to get my attention.” He breathes out slowly, slipping a gloved finger beneath your bra to massage your nipple. “I can’t say it hasn’t worked, but a whore is still a whore. You need to be cleansed, like the rest of the filth in this city, and the only person willing to do that is me. That’s why,” he pauses, the hand gripping your chin roughly yanking your mouth open as he leans over you, pulling up his mask slightly and spitting in your mouth, “you will take everything I give to you like a grateful little bitch.” 

He slaps your face, hard enough to sting but not enough to bruise, and you swallow the mixture of your saliva and his. You can’t stop the moan that slips out from between your parted lips, and he locks eyes with you, his pupils blown so wide with arousal that his eyes appear completely black in the low light. He leans forward again, pulling up his mask, and harshly kisses you, pushing his tongue into your mouth as his knee forces your legs apart. You whimper when you feel his erection brush against your thigh and he bites down on your bottom lip, hard. He moves his focus to your neck and collarbones, attacking the sensitive skin with kisses and bites, marking every inch of you that’s visible. 

“This is so,” he murmurs breathlessly between fervent kisses to your skin- and, Christ, is he smelling you?- “everyone knows you were fucked by the Riddler. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For everyone to know that you’re such a whore that getting fucked by a serial killer gets that pathetic cunt of yours completely soaked.” You moan at his words, arching your back to press your chest against his as you grind against his knee. 

“Such a needy little thing. One touch from me and you’re already at my complete disposal.” He leans back on his heels to look over you, your hair a complete mess, your lips swollen and as red as the flush on your skin. The strap of your bra has slipped down your shoulder and Edward’s breaths become haggard as he reaches for the knife on his belt; he cuts away the fabric hiding your breasts from him, much to your dismay (that lingerie set was pretty fucking expensive), and immediately takes one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud before biting down lightly. You moan louder, squirming against your restraints and trying to pull away from him. 

He slaps you again, harder this time, running the flat side of his knife against the mark that begins blooming on your cheek. “If you don’t shut up and take it like a good girl, I'll have to hurt you.” He presses a chaste kiss to your parted lips. “I wouldn’t want to ruin a face as pretty as yours.” 

You whimper, rubbing your clothed core against Edward’s thigh, feeling the arousal in your lower belly build from the stimulation. Edward certainly doesn’t miss this, his eyes widening slightly as he peels your underwear away from your pussy. A string of your own slick connects you to the mesh fabric, and you can hear the amusement in Edward’s voice when he says, “oh, I’m going to ruin you.” 

He cuts your underwear away, dragging his knife down your body painfully slowly. You shiver from the cool metal, whining from frustration when Edward’s gloved fingers spread your glistening folds, pointedly ignoring your throbbing clit. 

“You pathetic girl... so wet for me. No one else could get you to react like this from their words alone, could they?” You shake your head rapidly, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get closer to Edward’s fingers. “Say it, then.” He begins lazily rubbing circles into your clit, causing you to cry out with relief at him finally touching you. He runs the blunt end of his knife across your neck, twisting it in his hand so the tip presses into your skin, not quite breaching your flesh. “Nice and clear for me. Tell me that you’re my bitch.” 

You moan when he begins speeding up his movements on your clit, stumbling over your words. “I.. I’m your- your b-” He cuts you off with another slap to your cheek, and the action sends a sharp jolt of pleasure right to your clit, causing you to choke out a moan. “Not quite, pretty girl. Try again. Whose bitch are you?” Your eyes narrow with confusion for a second before you realise what he wants you to say. 

“I’m th- the Riddler’s bitch.” 

He nods, satisfied, pushing two gloved fingers inside of you while the other continues rubbing your clit. You can feel your orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast, whimpering and giving Edward a pleading look. 

He nods wordlessly and you unravel, your orgasm enveloping your body in a blissful warmth as your pussy clenches hard around Edward’s fingers. He breathes out through his nose, hard, as he watches you cum, his cock throbbing at the feeling of your pussy spasming around his fingers.  

Edward pulls his fingers out of you when your body finally finishes shaking, inspecting your wetness on them in the low light of your bedroom for several moments, before pushing them under his mask and sucking them clean. He moans at the taste of you, and you feel his dick twitching against your leg as he closes his eyes, savouring you. He sighs, opening his eyes. 

“I need more.” 

Before you can react, he’s gripping your waist with strong hands, dragging your body up against him, holding you up almost completely off the bed, and hooking your legs over his shoulders. Edward gazes at your drenched cunt with a hunger in your eyes that you've never seen displayed by him, his breaths deep and shaky as he smells the arousal leaking out of you. You squeak, thighs still quivering from your previous orgasm. 

“W-wait, Ed- Riddler, I... I’m still t-too sensitive for...” You cut yourself out with a cry of pained pleasure as he latches his mouth onto your pussy, pushing his tongue into your sensitive hole. You sob as he sucks on your clit, shocks of overstimulation wracking through you as you weakly kick your legs against him, your body growing limp. The sounds Edward makes as he devours your pussy are obscene, the room filling with echoes of your cries and Edward’s moans as he sucks and licks crudely at your sex. 

He pulls away occasionally, praising and degrading you in barely coherent pussydrunk babbles: “such a perfect girl for me,” “stupid bitch, such a needy whore for your savior,” “so pretty with mascara running down your face,” “any louder and I'll give you a real reason to cry,” “taste so good, i need all of you.” And it’s all so much, his tongue writhing so deep inside you, the grip of his hands on your ass, the cool leather biting into your flesh, the way he moans and ruts into the bed from the taste of you, and before you can even breathe you’re cumming again, and you’re cumming so hard your back lifts off the bed entirely, the strength of your orgasm rocking you all the way to your core. Your mind goes blank as a chain of choked moans and sobs spill from between your lips, all you can focus on being the way Edward continues to fuck you with his tongue all the way through your orgasm. You can feel your slick sliding down your thighs, and when Edward pulls away you can see it dripping down his chin, and you don’t miss the proud grin on his face as he pulls down his mask. 

He drops you back onto the bed, straddling you once more and wiping your slick from his chin with his finger, motioning for you to open your mouth. You obey him and he pushes the digit inside, motioning for you to suck it clean. When he pulls his finger from your mouth, his eyes darken, and you can practically feel the smug smile in his words. “Such a good little girl for me, aren’t you? No one can make you cum like I can... and I can still smell how horny you are for me. You’re so needy, yet you’re never satisfied.” 

He tilts his head, and the dim light from the lamp behind him illuminates him similarly to a halo, and you almost find yourself beginning to create a religion in your head just to worship him. 

“I don’t think you’re being very grateful.” 

You begin crying out words of thanks, rubbing your legs together to lessen the ache of overstimulation. Edward's knees cage you in, and he grips one of your thighs with his hands. 

“Quit your grovelling and stop fucking moving when I’m talking to you.” His hand travels to your face, cupping your cheek with a surprising tenderness as he sighs. “You’re still so filthy... look what this city has done to you. I suppose I’m your last hope.” 

He unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers, finally freeing his cock from its confines. The tip is an angry red and leaks with precum, and Edward lets out a breathy moan as he strokes it. He spreads your legs, lining himself up with your sex and pushing into you slowly. He gazes down at you, a complete mess beneath him, and groans. “You’re so lucky... being fucked by Gotham’s salvation...” 

You can barely think, let alone speak, and when Edward begins moving his hips, his thumb finding your clit and massaging it, you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks. He moves in and out of your agonisingly slowly, and when you look up at him, you can make out that his eyes are closed as he savours the feeling of you. 

“Your virgin pussy is so... so fucking tight. Oh... h-how does it feel to be fucked by your saviour? Your God?” 

You sniffle beneath him, choking on your sobs as he speeds up to a punishing pace, his cock bruising your insides. He grabs at every inch of you, his hands finding refuge around your throat. 

“Oh, you’re so good. You were so filthy, but I will cleanse you. I will purify you; I will plant the seed of hope within you, and you will be saved.” 

He babbles on as he fucks you, squeezing his fingers around your throat, verging on crushing your windpipe but never quite gripping hard enough. You cry out for him, so cockdrunk and lightheaded from your sudden lack of oxygen that you find yourself looping your bound wrists around his neck, pulling him forward and crashing your lips to the rough leather of his mask. He makes a noise of surprise before his fingers once again find your clit, rubbing at it desperately as his hips begin to stutter against your own. 

Edward, ever the gentlemen, wants you to cum before him; you feel your cheeks grow warm at the thought, and pull away to look at him. You can barely keep your focus on him, your vision going hazy, and he begins assaulting your clit with more fervor. 

“Be a good little angel and cum for your savior.” 

Your vision goes white as the orgasm rips through you, your entire body spasming as your pussy clenches down hard on Edward’s cock. He has to stop moving to prevent himself from cumming as he guides you through your own orgasm, his fingers weaving through your hair as he coos at you. 

“Yes, that’s it. Such a perfect girl. So pretty cumming on my cock.” 

He begins speeding up again, his hips slapping against yours with a clumsy rhythm, his breathy moans growing louder and more desperate with each thrust. You lay, exhausted, whimpering incoherent words of encouragement to him as he chases after his own climax. 

You feel him begin to pull out and you weakly wrap your legs around his hips. “W-want you inside. Need... need you to cleanse me from the inside.” 

Your words are what tip Edward over the edge, and he whimpers loudly as his cum spills inside you, his hips grinding into yours as he relishes in the aftershocks of his orgasm. 

Thank God you're on birth control.

Edward slowly pulls out of you and cuts the duct tape that binds you, gently pressing kisses to the insides of your wrists. He pulls off his fogged up glasses and his mask, placing a gentle kiss to your lips as he smiles at you worriedly. 

“I didn’t go too far, did I?” 

There's your lovely Eddie.

You shake your head, laughing weakly and he smiles, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he helps you to your feet and guides you to the bathroom, letting you use his body for support. Edward sits you on the lip of the bath and dampens a towel, gentle cleaning you up and placing loving kisses to every bare patch of skin he can reach. He reluctantly leaves you alone to freshen up as he straightens up the bed, changing into his pajamas and finding your favourite t shirt of his to sleep in. 

When you re-enter the bedroom, with a slight limp that Edward definitely notices but refuses to comment on, he dresses you and tucks you into bed before lying next to you, brushing your hair out of your eyes. 

“Sorry I’ve been so... distant lately.” 

When you go to answer him, he rubs his thumb soothingly on your cheek and you get the message that he hasn’t finished talking. 

“We have big things planned, we both know that, but... it wasn’t right of me to not look after you when, now that I look back at it, you really made it obvious that you needed me to. I hope you can forgive me.” 

You smile, pressing a shy kiss to Edward’s lips. 

“Don’t apologise, Eddie. There’s nothing to be sorry for. You can apologise tomorrow when I can’t feel my legs or sit down properly for a week.” 

He laughs and buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.  

“I really love you, you silly girl. A-and..."

He pulls away from you but continues to avert his gaze, his cheeks pink and a lopsided grin tugging at his lips.

"The, um, th-the lingerie was very pretty, you looked really lovely. I'm, ah, sorry about..."

He doesn't meet your eyes and you snort, bringing a hand to rest on his cheek with a fond smile.

"Yeah. That I'm not so quick to forgive. You have no idea how expensive nice underwear is when you're a woman."

Edward laughs shyly, delicately holding your wrist and pressing tender kisses to your palm that leave you melting. The heat in his eyes, however, is undeniable.

"I absolutely will not complain if you decide to spend all my money on pretty lingerie and then decide to model said lingerie for me."

"You're unbelievable."

You both laugh as Edward continues peppering soft kisses up your arm, then your bruising neck before finally meeting your lips in a tender kiss. He pulls away, and the way he looks at you with such love and adoration almost makes you tear up.

Edward twirls a strand of hair around his finger, pulling you closer to his chest. His fingers reach up and he begins combing them through your hair properly, whispering sweet praise to you as you find yourself dozing off.

#dano riddler #dano riddler x reader #edward nashton #edward nashton x reader #paul dano #riddler 2022 #riddler x you #batman 2022 #edward nashton x you #riddler x reader #danocel #danonation #dano!riddler #the riddler #the riddler x reader #the riddler x you

[rebdekarios]

Gale headcanon Part 2: Wedding Day

Part 1 Here

Galemancers, y’all really liked my first post with all of Gale’s (very likely to be real) wedding planning/day of antics.

I do think this would make for a fun fic and I wanna write it, but yours truly is not in a position to start any new projects at the time being (not saying it will never happen, just right now isn’t a good time!). However, I still wanna add more to this goofy idea of mine.

Here goes!

Wyll giving them lessons for their first dance as a married couple. It’s as hilarious as it is painful to watch. Gale has two left feet and keeps stepping on Tav’s toes. Tav cries out in pain and Gale feels awful so he conjures a rose to apologize.

G: “The Soirées in Waterdeep don’t move with such grand gestures and arduous foot work!” W: “That’s why you asked me to help you, Gale. Baldurs Gate throws magnificent parties.”

Gale keeps reading and rereading spell based cookbooks to try and whip up the reception meal in one fell swoop. He doesn’t trust a caterer and wouldn’t like the taste of anyone’s food but his own.

Tav keeps begging him to let someone else do the work since he’s stressing himself out with these small details, but all Gale does is smile and give Tav a pat on the head and a kiss on the cheek.

G: “Don’t worry about me, my love. Our day will be perfect, just like you are.” T: “I don’t want it to be perfect, I just want you to relax and have fun.”

Tav goes to a separate room to sleep the night before and finds their bed adorned with flowers and petals in heart shapes

Tav finds a note beneath all the bed decorations

“My dearest love, I write this with nervous hands and a fast-beating heart - we are almost upon our wedding day. What seems like a grand milestone is only just the beginning of an even more remarkable adventure. Our days of journeying through Faerûn may be over, but it only prepared me for the most important journey of them all: being your husband. You are everything, Tav. You have made me a better man. My connection with you is as innate as mine with magic itself. From this day forward, I will devote the rest of my life to your happiness. The beginning of that chapter is upon us both, and I am nearly bursting (despite my lack of an orb to make it so) in anticipation for it to begin. With utmost love, your soon to be husband - Gale.

Tav won’t be able to sleep so instead they read this letter over and over again 🥰

Gale lets Tav wear whatever they want on their big day and even paid for it

He just wants his bb to be at their happiest and this is the least he can do

Tav ofc hires Figaro the dressmaker and Zara the mummy to do makeup

Gale turning around and seeing his spouse for the first time the day of 🥺

He’s literally unable to breathe when he sees them walking down the aisle, however he is partly relieved because he was still anxious about Tav getting cold feet

Gale tears up as he reads his vows 🥺

Their wedding rings bearing the same gem that Tara has on her collar

Scratch is summoned 🥺 and becomes a permanent member of the Dekarios household, and even gets his own gem at the ceremony 😭

Owlbear gets the distinct honor of being ringbearer. He takes it very seriously. Because he knows he will get a snack for it later.

“Withers I would like to recruit a hireling” says Gale *puts an apron on the hirelings to have them clean up after the guests*

Halsin whittles them a pair of swans with their necks in a heart shape as their wedding gift. It becomes Tav’s most treasured knick knack in the tower.

Lae’zel gifts them a pair of swords, which is probably customary for her but not so much for couples in Faerûn (Gale fashions a coat of arms above the hearth with them anyway)

Astarion: “I am the gift.” 🙄

Tara finally begins to warm up to Tav when she fully realizes that Tav makes a great addition to the Dekarios family

Tara shows this by flying into Tavs lap and rubbing her face against Tav

Lasts for only about 30 seconds however. She can’t be seen letting her guard down to anyone.

The night ends, Gale and Tav retreat back to the tower with full hearts and a gleam in their eyes, proud of all they’d done to build their lives and excited for what comes next.

But there’s still going to be copious amounts of sex that night of course. They barely get past the threshold of the doorway before they’re ripping each other’s clothes off.

They’re drunk, but not just because they’ve had a few drinks. Love drunk, adrenaline drunk, life drunk.

“They deserve this night, after all they’ve been through,” Karlach says to Wyll as they are walking back to the portal to Avernus.

“Some day that will be us,” Wyll replies proudly.

💜

#Gale dreamt of his wedding day since he was a boy ok #gale dekarios #bg3 #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #baldur's gate 3 #gale x tav #baldurs gate gale #bg3 tav #gale romance #bg3 epilogue #bg3 headcanons #bg3 fic #galemance #gale fic #gale headcanons #tara the tressym #wizard of waterdeep

[bunny-rambles]

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

characters; Scaramouche, gn reader

summary; Your new cat boy takes care of you when you’re sick

cw/tw; Cat boy Scara !!! Scara has cat ears and a tail !! Oh yeah also sick reader, worrying, hinted that Scara thinks you might die, Scaramouche being Scaramouche (I did try to make him a bit softer here)

word count; 2.1k

notes; uh so remember that untitled cyno sick fic I did? This is basically that but longer and it’s scara (but with cat ears). This is also going to be the start of a series with genshin boys as cat boys !! This is all very self indulgent because all I want to do is pet scara’s ears and I will be writing a drabble about that dw. I reread this and edited it a bunch of times but I’m still not exactly happy with this, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. And a special thank you to my dearest friend juju for proof reading this at least 5 times. Enjoy <3

Please reblog if you like this!!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He was beautiful.

Vibrant, violet hues shone like precious gems against his porcelain skin, his face framed by dark locks, his soft appearance ethereal. Perfectly pointed ears sat atop of his head, twitching in annoyance when your gaze lingered on them for too long. His tail was long, swaying swiftly from side to side, his silky fur shimmering in the light of the morning sunlight. How could anyone abandon such a gorgeous creature?

Scaramouche was the newest addition to your little family of one - and he was not very fond of you. This didn’t come as that much of a surprise, since the shelter you adopted him from told you that he wouldn’t let anyone come near him, unless they wanted to have their arm mauled. From his pristine condition, you could only assume that perhaps he had been thrown out by his previous owners. Poor thing.

But he had told you rather bluntly that he didn’t want sympathy, and that he was only staying with you because it was better than being at the shelter with all the ‘mangy strays’.

At least, that’s what he told you.

In reality, he was extremely thankful that you had chosen him, even with his harsh exterior - therefore, you were now important to him. He never told you this, or even hinted with his words that’s what he truly thought - but it showed in the little things.

The way he’d sit near you whenever you were around, or bumped his head against yours when he was certain you were asleep, he even cooked for you from time to time! Still, there was very little that left his mouth that was positive, often insulting you if you tried to break past the walls he had put up around himself, or sneering at you while telling you that you had made the biggest mistake of your life by adopting him. It didn’t bother you, if anything you found it rather endearing. It was adorable that he called himself your worst nightmare, but did very little to terrorise you except the typical cat behaviour of being a minor nuisance. You were wise enough not to ever say that to him, though.

The bond between you was unspoken, but strong. And after today, you could only assume that it was unbreakable, too.

The sound of the spoon hitting against your coffee mug as you stirred your beverage made you cringe, the light contact echoing in your head. Your hands trembled as you brought the cup up to your lips, letting out a soft sigh of content when the warm liquid soothed your aching throat.

Your feline companion was staring at you from across the room, his tail swishing behind him as he watched you. You were acting strange. Usually you would try to strike up a conversation with him - not that he would ever talk back, but he had grown used to your ramblings about the dream you had or the things you were planning to do later. But it was quiet on your end this morning. Too quiet… In fact, almost everything about you was off today now that he was really looking at you. Did your hands always shake when you were holding something? No, your legs were trembling too… Were you cold?

You raised your head from staring at the liquid in your mug, shrinking back when you saw Scaramouche glaring at you intensely. He huffed quietly, breaking his gaze to stare out of the window, crossing his arms over his chest. It wasn’t his problem. You weren’t his problem. You were just a roommate as far as he was concerned, nothing more. Why should he care about you not acting like yourself? Good riddance, your constant chatter was annoying anyway.

His ear twitched when he heard you grab a second mug, knowing what was coming. You carefully stirred the honey in with the warm milk, taking a little longer than usual before shuffling over towards him.

“Here,” You offered with a fragile smile. “Sorry it took so long.” Any other day, he would’ve refused your gesture and drunk the contents when you weren’t looking, but today… Even he didn’t have the heart to turn you away.

“You look awful.” He told you bluntly, holding the drink close to his chest. His ear twitched yet again when all you did was continue to smile at him. Ugh, you were no fun, barely giving a reaction to his insults anymore. Still, this time he was simply speaking his mind. You did look awful, the dark shadows under your eyes only looking more prominent now that he could see your face up close.

“Do I? Well… I haven’t had a shower yet.” You shrugged, taking another small sip of your own drink.

“I don’t think it has anything to do with that.” He mumbled, nursing from his own mug. You sighed heavily, not in the mood for his usual round of teasing. All you wanted to do was go back to bed. He raised an eyebrow at you, but said nothing, getting the hint that maybe today he should leave you alone. After a few moments, you placed your empty cup on the table, making a mental note to clear it away later before making your way to the bathroom. Maybe after your shower, you’d feel better.

Your steps were slow but you were barely moving, the door you were desperately trying to get to feeling more like a static image than a destination. When you leaned against the wall for support, Scaramouche’s head perked up again. He called your name hesitantly, rising from where he was seated on the couch. You didn’t respond.

“Hey…” He started, but he’d never finish. His body moved before he even realised what he was doing, catching your falling figure when your hand slipped. He called your name again but it was no use.

You were hot- no, you were burning up, your skin feeling clammy underneath his fingertips. He’d never seen someone in such a state before. It worried him. Beneath your heavy panting, you could hear a soft voice mumbling something you couldn’t understand before the blurry image of your companion's worried face above you faded into darkness. Your name was the last thing you heard.

Something firm was pressing against the side of your head when you started to stir. A hand was on top of your own limp one by your side, gripping it tightly, desperately like a lifeline. When your eyes opened, the first thing you noticed was that surprisingly, you weren’t left on the floor or even on the couch in the living room. Instead, you were back in your room, swaddled in blankets with a damp cloth on your forehead. With the burnt orange and soft pink hues shining through your window and illuminating the room, you could only assume you had been out for quite a while.

“Please…” A small voice whispered quietly against your temple, hand tightening around yours. You must’ve really been out of it if you didn’t wake up from this almost bruising grip.

“Not them, too…”

Of course you recognised that voice, but never had you heard such tenderness from it. Perhaps you were still dreaming? He’d never been this soft with you, even in his rare moments of vulnerability. You let out a pained groan as your hand strained to squeeze his, forcing your heavy eyes to finally open. The head pressed against yours immediately sprung up, his breath stilling in anticipation.

“Scara…?” You croaked out, raising your head slightly. The two of you looked at each for a moment, and although your vision was hazy, you were sure you saw the feline’s eyes glassy with unshed tears. His gaze then turned sharp, as well as his ears. With his sharp fangs bared and his claws barely contained, you screwed your eyes shut to brace yourself.

But the attack you expected never came. Trembling arms embraced you tightly, pulling you against a warm chest. A hand rested against the back of your head, only pulling you further into the comforting hold. Your own arms stayed limp at your side, too in shock to properly register what was going on. His ears were flattened down against his head, tail curling around you to make sure you wouldn’t pull away. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He hissed against your neck, but there was barely any bite in his voice. It sounded more like a pained whimper than the intimidating growl he was going for.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realised you had been holding, carefully returning the hug. “Sorry…” His hold on you tightened. Neither of you mention the wetness on your neck.

“Don’t do that again.” You had never heard his voice sound so quiet before. You nodded slowly, letting your heavy head rest against his shoulder. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you faintly registered this was the first time the two of you have ever hugged. It felt… Nice. Like here, in his embrace, nothing could get you. With him, you were safe. A tightness restricted your throat, causing you to cough quietly in your hand, your whole body trembling in pain.

“Here, lay down.” Gently, he lowered your body that was in his arms back against the mattress, making sure your head was comfortable against your pillow. You groaned quietly once again, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and heavy eyes. His face had completely changed, eyebrows furrowed and flat ears still pressed firmly against his head.

“Are you okay?” You managed to choke out, causing him to scoff quietly.

“Really? You’re asking me that, when you’re the one who can barely move?”

You shrugged your shoulders, earning a heavy sigh from him. “What happened back there anyway?”

Again, you shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t realise how bad my sickness was…”

“Sick? So you’re not…” His voice trailed off. Confused, you tilted your head to look at him. His gaze seemed to fixate on the floor, and a visible wave of relief washed over his features. “Of course you’re sick.” He chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head at himself. In his previous home, his master was almost never at home, therefore he’d never seen anyone get as weak as this just from something as common as a cold. Still, he wasn’t entirely clueless, he did know at least a few actions you were supposed to take when someone was sick.

You hummed quietly, letting your eyes flutter shut. “Wait.” He called out quietly, placing a hesitant hand on your shoulder, shaking you lightly. “You need to eat something. Just… Just stay awake until you eat, got it?” Once again, you hummed softly, nodding your head slowly. He seemed satisfied with that, sliding off the bed carefully.

“Scara?”

“What?”

You smiled slightly, pulling the covers over your body tighter. “Thank you…”

He stilled, his eyes widening slightly, one of his ears twitching lightly in response. Shaking his head, he turned away quickly, hoping you didn’t notice how easily his cheeks became the colour of cherry blossom petals. “…Whatever.”

And so you waited patiently, fighting off slumber until your companion came back. After he fed you - the image of him pouting as he held up the spoon to your mouth to feed you some soup is still fresh in your mind, you were free to finally sleep (once he made sure you were going to wake up anyway). As he was making his way out of your room however, you very gently grabbed onto the end of his tail. He whipped around, about to scold you for touching him like that, until he saw the look on your face.

“Stay with me?” How could he refuse when you looked so fragile? He let out a soft huff before getting under the covers with you, wrapping his arms around you carefully. The both of you smiled slightly, snuggling into each other. A foreign noise started to emanate from deep within his chest, powerful vibrations warming your body to the core. Purring. Scaramouche was purring.

“Goodnight, Scara.” You whispered, boldly pressing a sweet kiss to his chest. His tail curls around you once again, vibrant eyes finally slipping closed after torturous ordeal that had been today. The thought of almost losing you made his arms tighten, caging you within his protective hold.

“Yeah. Night.” He doubted he’d be able to sleep very much after this. How troublesome you were, making him worry like that. Weak human. But he supposed after all of this- his thoughts pause for a moment so he could press his lips against the crown of your head.

You were his human now.

#scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x gn reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x gn reader #kunikuzushi x you #scaramouche fluff #genshin scaramouche #scaracat #cat boy scara #cat boy series

[saintvainglorious]

10 Best Black Sails Fics I Read in 2023

In honor of Black Sails' 10th anniversary, here's a list of my top 10 favorite Black Sails fics I read in 2023, in order from shortest to longest. Most Black Sails fic rec posts I've seen are now around 2 or 3 years old (though not all, bless @jaynovz and your #jay's esoteric rec lists tag) so nearly half of the recs in this list spotlight newer fics. It's amazing to see fantastic fics still being written and updated years after the show ended - y'all are keeping this fandom alive!

I didn't read that much Black Sails fic this year, comparatively speaking, so I'm sure there's plenty of newer gems that I missed. All the fics in this rec list are Silverflint unless otherwise stated.

1 - Gone To Port Royal by Apetslife (G, 3k) - a delightful oneshot from Gates' POV where they all go to a pirate afterlife. every scene is perfect. endlessly re-readable and never fails to make me smile.

Definition of Valhalla 1: the great hall in Norse mythology where heroes slain in battle are received 2 : a place of honor, glory, or happiness: heaven

2 - i’ll be seeing you by youatemytailor/@annevbonny (NR, 19k) - this is THEE post-canon Silverflint reunion fic. the anguish, the rage, the quiet jokes, the tenderness, it's all devastatingly in-character. particularly the chapter 5 climactic unspooling leaves me in awe upon every reread.

Silver is out of his chair and across the room before he knows it. He has a grip on the barkeep’s shirt before he knows it, and he’s pulling him up, hauling him eye-level, only to head-butt him to the ground again. The barkeep’s mouth is thrown open in a wail, but there’s no sound, Silver thinks, no sound at all, save for the blood rushing in his ears as he looks at the other man on the ground, watches him roll to his side with a groan. Flint, Silver thinks, and nothing else. It beats around the knife in his gut like a drum. Flint. And then Flint is looking at him.

3 - The Dark Lord Proprietor by Amiril/@runawaymarbles (M, 19k, Silverflintham) - a fuckin hysterical supervillain AU. Thomas has amnesia, Flint is pining, Silver tries to get them back together. what could go wrong? could not stop cackling.

A year ago, James Flint was in a stable relationship and was within spitting distance of taking over London. Now he’s single, with a dubiously loyal henchman, a lairmate determined to learn his every weakness, and a Secret Past with the new supervillain on the scene. And thanks to a new government program, it’s all a race to the bottom.

4 - the cross dimensional nassau bar of getting izzy hands laid by FortinbrasFTW/@fortinbrasftw (E, 19k ~WIP~, Flint/OFMD Izzy Hands) - a Black Sails OFMD Flint/Izzy Hands crossover. the very best kind of smut-as-character study. funny, gripping, and endlessly re-readable.

The first thing Izzy realizes is he looks absolutely fucking furious — which yeah, alright, fair enough. He’s got shorter ginger hair. A beard like Izzy’s but kept neater. Earrings like Izzy’s but worn simpler. Bleeding like Izzy but, well, maybe a bit less. And he’s handsome. Izzy realizes it suddenly and slowly somehow all at once. Bit like a bloody painting even. The kind you saw up on walls in rich folk’s houses. Only, well, no painting had eyes like that, did it? You’d have to be mad to keep a painting with eyes like that in your home. They were bright and clear and looked — honest-to-fucking-Christ — ready to set the whole damned world on fire. Izzy's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad night takes an interesting turn thanks to a completely different sort of pirate captain.

5 - frail and fragile bars by Ajaxthegreat/@francisthegreat (E, 21k) - Silver realizes, post-shark date, that he's in love with Flint. an instant, iconic fave fic. SO many delicious scenes and quotes that live rent free in my head. just read it, you won't regret it.

“I think you fuck,” Silver says. By which he means, with great intent: I think you are human. I know you are human. I see you.

6 - the whole estate of mortal man by Amiril/@runawaymarbles (T, 43k) - Creature Silver AU where he'll grant wishes in exchange for souls. first read this fic in 2020 and cried. reread it this year and cried again. the nature of the AU intersects so cleverly with Black Sails' themes, and the end result is devastating.

Silver has a limited memory, an unlimited lifespan, and a need for human souls. He spends months trying to buy Flint’s.

7 - our feast is but beginning by x_etoile_x/@etoilesombre (E, 55k) - Flint teaches season 1 Silver how to cook. they're definitely not dating. no, really. this writer writes dialogue so in-character that it cuts like a knife. features sensual cooking, Flint being a queer mentor for Silver, fun genderfuckery, and Them Being Real Tender.

Flint should walk away. Silver can figure out how to feed the men, it isn’t his problem. But roasting a pig is so easy, and when was the last time he had a hand in creating something rather than destroying it? Anyway, what else is he doing, with Billy taking the crew in hand with such annoying competency? He absolutely does not think about why he is reluctant for this interaction with Silver to end. “Go get another pig,” he says before he can reconsider. “Do exactly as I say.”

8 - With Strange Aeons by Amiril/@runawaymarbles (M, 60k, Silverflint + Flinthamilton + Jackanne) - Came for the Silverflint, stayed for the Silverflint but also for holy fuck Jack and Anne are sent to Savannah and break out of there with Thomas to battle literal Cthulhu. How can you NOT read this. I don't typically read Flinthamilton, but by god Thomas is amazing in this.

After the disappearance and presumed death of Captain Flint and Long John Silver, Max smuggles Jack and Anne to Oglethorpe’s plantation. Thomas learns that not only do the three of them have a friend in common, but he is not the only one whose dreams are haunted by a strange city and a terrifying name. Meanwhile, Flint and Silver try to escape an island trapped in time, impossibly built and impossibly old. Along the way they’re forced question reality, each other, and themselves. And in his house in R’lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming.

9 - The Salt and the Sea by x_etoile_x/@etoilesombre (E, 60k) - a between season 2 and 3 recovery fic. i still remembered months after reading that chapter 4 in particular left me undone. a harrowing journey into the ruins of post-leg loss Silver's mind, plus exquisite hurt/comfort.

John Silver was always able to make the best of a situation. If this particular situation had started to feel complicated, well, a vast fortune ought to prove clarifying. Whatever he might have imagined he’d seen in Flint, the reality was they had used each other. And he had been set to walk away on top. Except now he couldn’t. Now he was trapped.

10 - the straight walk home by vowelinthug/@vowel-in-thug (E, 73k, Silverflint + Jackanne + Maxanne + Billy/Vane) - A western AU and one of the best long fics in the fandom. Excellent comedy, amazing AU twists on our favorite characters, found family vibes, nail-biting action, and a fucking fantastic climax. Also, I can't believe this fic got me invested in Billy/Vane.

Let me tell you a story, about a vaquero named Vasquez...

#black sails #black sails fic recs #silverflint #fanfiction #fic recs #bsanniversary #10yearsblacksails #10bsfest

[cakesandfail]

Listen kid you're right but you need to be more normal about this

#gem rereads the watch #patricianblogging #(baby revolutionary edition)

[russellsppttemplates]

Haloo 🤗🤗 , how have you been ?? I just finished rereading the lewis hamilton imagine and recently i found this gem on insta and i just want to share with you

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C3M_Ws7I0XE/?igsh=bm4wcjhmN2swaGsw

I don't know whether I'm so delulu or stress or need my ear fixed or what, but somehow i feel like the dad's voice sounds a lot like lewis . I don't know ,i probably need help

Note: I get what you mean, it does sound a bit like him! I had this in my drafts and forgot about it, sorry sorry 😬🫠 I also added the idea from the last ask you sent!

Noah was a smart kid, that much you knew. And because of his age, it wasn't hard for him to watch and learn from your actions. So when he wanted to speak to his daddy, he grabbed your phone while you took a shower. Opening the app and tapping the screen, he held on the icon as he spoke into it.

Hi daddy! Mummy says you're travelling back home!

He waited for a response but Lewis seemed to be taking too long.

You drive so fast, daddy, why are you taking so long to reply? Do you not like these messages? They're fun because I can't write yet and we can talk to eachother.

He waited until the double arrows turned a different colour, meaning he had heard the voice notes.

Sorry, buddy! I was talking with the team. Did you steal mummy's phone again?

Giddy, Noah tapped the screen again.

Yes! She's in the shower because she said she is going to make a special dinner for us when you get back! Are you bringing anything for her? You always bring her flowers.

On the plane, Lewis had a little giggle as Toto and George, who happened to sit in front of him, heard the audio.

"He's just letting everyone know Y/N's routine and plans!", George chuckled.

I am, buddy. I told the florist to have them ready so I can pick them up before I go home.

When are you going to buy me flowers, buddy buddy?

Do you want me to buy you some flowers, Noah?

Yes, some flowers and some chocolate, please.

"Oh, that worked up fast, hm?", Toto wiggled his eyebrows.

How did we get from flowers to chocolate, hm?

You love mummy and you always bring some chocolate when you give her flowers, right? So if you love me, you'll give me the two too!

And what's in it for me?

I'll give you a big big hug and say thank you!

Okay, I can do with that, buddy!

Safe to say that as soon as you got your phone back, you giggled at your little boy's antics.

(Thank you for your submission ✨️)

#lewis hamilton blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

[impala-dreamer]

His Charge

A Supernatural Story

~Y/N is remanded to Castiel's care while the Winchesters go take care of a very angry deity who had taken her hostage. While they wait, she and Castiel get into an in depth conversation about the metaphysics of his being, and she gets him to show her his wings...~

2,562 Words.

Warnings: NSFW. Talk & Loving. Fluff

A/N: Been a hot minute since I've posted any Castiel. I think you'll enjoy this. It's super good... I just reread it. lol. If you enjoy it, please reblog :)

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

“What do they look like?”

Sapphire eyes looked up through thick, black lashes to see beautiful gems staring back.

Y/N smiled behind her whiskey glass and Castiel blushed. He was far from used to such adoration or attention.

“What do what look like?” he asked, countering her question with another.

She laughed softly and set the glass down on the table. The glowing map beneath illuminated the amber liquid and cast a strange array of orange prisms across the table.

“Your wings.”

Her voice was as soft as a song, but held a hint of mischief. Castiel felt something stir deep inside of his vessel as her eyes drifted down from his face to his chest and shoulders. She lingered on his right shoulder and he denied a shiver.

Castiel cleared his throat. “They are… quite large and impressive.”

Y/N bit her lip and laughed. “That’s what she said.”

His head tipped to the left, his nose bunched in confusion. “She?”

“Never mind.”

She looked away, dipping her chin to look down into the whiskey and then back up. Only her eyes moved back to him and Castiel’s face burned hot. He hid the blush, but beneath the surface, he was going wild. His body yearned for her, but he couldn’t make himself take a chance. He hadn’t exactly had the best experiences with human women, and besides, Y/N was barely a friend, almost a stranger. She was his charge. He was there to watch over her while Sam and Dean tracked down the Druid God that was after her; his job was to save her life, not get involved sexually.

If, he thought, that’s what she even wanted.

He often had trouble discerning flirtatious behavior from simple polite conversation. Dean once slapped him on the arm and told him to read their minds, shocked that Cas had such a power but never used it to get any, but that wasn’t something Castiel could bring himself to do. Not unless they asked.

Still, without even trying, he could tell that her heart rate increased slightly when he met her gaze, that her skin flushed nearly imperceptibly when he stared a bit too intensely. He knew that her nipples were hard because he could see with an Angel’s vision through the thin fabric of her t-shirt and cotton bra. He could even smell that faint wetness that dripped down into her panties.

But still, he couldn’t make himself move.

Castiel jolted when Y/N spoke again, her fingers running slowly over the rim of the crystal tumbler. Her tone was deeper, words spilled from her lips slowly, coating him in thick warmth from head to toe.

“I wish I could see them,” she said, lifting the glass to her lips. “I bet they’re beautiful.”

She took a deep drink and Castiel watched as her body took it in. He saw the whiskey splash onto her tongue, flood her taste buds, slither down her throat as her muscles contracted. He could smell the woody scent of it, feel the heat as it burned the back of her throat. His stomach tightened and a wave of heat washed over his manhood. His cock twitched but he took a breath and did his best to keep his vessel under control.

He swallowed hard. “Thank you, but-”

“But what,” she interrupted, licking a drop of liquid from her lip. “They’re too big to fit in this room? They’ll knock the walls down?”

Castiel laughed bashfully. “No-”

“They’re so amazing I’ll die from a peek at them?”

He looked directly into her eyes, unconsciously reaching down into the depths of her. “Most humans cannot handle the sight of them, no.”

“That’s… horrible. What, do they explode?” She laughed gently and took another drink, emptying the glass.

“No.” He sighed. “Most cannot handle the sight of the Divine purely because their minds cannot comprehend the truth of its existence. If I were to show you my true form, for instance, it might, as they say, blow your mind.”

Y/N bit her lip to hold in a drunken laugh. She inhaled deeply, drawing herself up in her seat as she took him in. “Well, I bet they’re magnificent.”

The way her tongue curled around her words, the brightness in her darkening eyes made his stomach tighten. She was definitely flirting, of that he was now sure.

He gave a subtle nod of thanks and tried to look anywhere but at the swell of her breasts. It became increasingly difficult as she leaned onto the table on her elbows, deliberately showing them off.

“So, what other magic powers do you have?” she asked slowly, her mouth a bit numb from the drink.

“I saw you shoot lightning out of your hand, so that’s one…”

Castiel smiled and turned to set his hands on the table casually. “Not lightning, no. Grace.”

“I thought that was just something you said before dinner.”

“No?”

Y/N laughed gently. “I’m teasing you, Castiel. So your Grace is like your superpowers.”

He puckered his lips in thought. “I suppose, technically, yes. If I were a superhero.”

She laughed again, this time easier, as if comfort had truly set in. She ran her eyes over his handsome face and Castiel swallowed hard.

“Oh, you’re a superhero.”

“I don’t have a cape,” he offered.

“Capes are for attention seekers. Trench coats, however…”

He looked down at his coat, suddenly a little self conscious.

Y/N licked her lips and slowly drew the bottom in snug between her front teeth. “Every badass character I’ve ever seen on t.v. wears a trench coat.”

He relaxed, smiling. “Well, then, I suppose- thank you.”

Y/N finished her drink. “I almost died today,” she said solemnly. “A few times. Like… more than once. I think I heard Gabriel blowin’ his horn for me.”

Castiel shook his head. “Gabriel was nowhere near-” She grinned and he laughed at himself.

“You’re not one for jokes, huh?”

“I enjoy them. Just takes me a moment sometimes.”

She was quiet for a bit, watching him, deciding. Then:

“So, you’re this giant ball of light, essentially, crammed into a human body.”

He shrugged but agreed. “Essentially.”

“And where’s the… uh… human that lived there first? Or is it like a snail situation?”

“His name was Jimmy Novack,” Castiel explained softly. “And he was a true believer. He offered me his vessel and we went through many trials together.”

“But he’s not here anymore?”

The Angel shook his head. “He is up in Heaven somewhere. Hopefully happy.”

“You don’t know for sure?”

“I could go look for him, I suppose, but-” He paused and looked off, flashes of guilt-ridden scenes raging through his head. “Best not to disturb him.”

“I getcha.” She leaned back and crossed her arms under her chest, making her breasts pop up deliciously. Castiel held his breath. “So, you’re all alone in some human body. All the same feelings, needs… urges?”

He felt the heat rise to his cheeks and this time, he let it linger. “I do not suffer human needs, no,” he said, almost instantly regretting it. Y/N nodded, a bit disappointed, and looked away. He cleared his throat and softened his tone. “I am in complete control of my vessel and I can do… those things…” Her eyes shot back to his. “If I choose to.”

A half smile turned her lips and Castiel let the warmth inside of him spread through every cell.

“If you choose to,” she echoed, biting her lip seductively. “And how often do you choose to?”

His mouth flooded with saliva and his blood began racing downwards. “Not… very often.”

Boldly, Y/N stood up and set her hand on the table. She dragged her fingers over the Pacific Ocean as she rounded the table to stand before him. Castiel could smell her arousal, feel the heat radiating off of her. She looked down at him and he met her gaze, wanting to grab her hips and pull her down, but afraid to move.

“And now?” she asked, sliding her fingertips up the California coast to steal the drink he’d never touched. Eyes still locked together, Y/N knocked back his whiskey and swallowed hard. She came back up with a slight cough and let the glass slip back over Oregon. “What do you choose now?”

He felt his testicals tighten and every part of his human body wanted to sink deep inside of her. His fingers twitched on his thighs and Castiel grabbed her hips just like he’d imagined, dragging her down into his lap.

“I choose this,” he groaned, leaning in to taste her lips while she rubbed down on his erection. She opened for him, parting her lips with a sweet slowness that nearly drove him mad. His tongue dove inside and she relented, letting him move and lick, suck and nip as he pleased.

Her hands pushed through his black hair, curled around the nape of his neck. She moaned into his mouth as he pawed at her left breast, sneaking his fingers into her shirt to pluck at her nipple. She arched into him and held on tight, dragging her hand down the center of his back.

His spine lit up with sensations and Castiel moaned loudly, pulling away from her mouth as she hit the base of his wings with her exploring hands.

Surprised, she blinked down at him. “Are you OK?”

Breathless, he nodded. “Yes.”

Y/N kissed the side of his mouth and then danced along his jaw, her hands scratching through his hair, tugging at his tie, working their way beneath the layers of suit and coat. Castiel massaged her ass, rolling his hips up into her jeans at a steady pace, loving the way she responded so easily to his motions.

She sat back suddenly and looked at him with wide eyes, irises fully blown and dark. “How- how long until the others get back?”

Unsure, Castiel closed his eyes and set out his spirit to find the Impala. They were still a state away. “A few hours, at least,” he replied, sneaking a hand up beneath her shirt.

Y/N smiled and yanked the shirt away, then her bra, coming back to him with renewed fervor. She sucked at his ear, nibbled on his non-existent pulse, kissed his stunned lips as he toyed with her breasts.

“Fuck, you feel good,” she whispered, nearly whimpering as he pinched her nipples in tandem.

“As do you…”

Y/N reached down between their legs and rubbed gently at the head of his cock. He was lost beneath too many pieces of fabric and she struggled to open his belt.

“Do you have any idea how much clothing you have on?” she teased.

Not catching the tone, Castiel’s brows furrowed. “Yes…” He gasped as she ripped the zipper down and shoved a hand into his slacks. The thin cotton boxers were no match for her probing fingers and Castiel let his head fall back as she stroked him to full hardness.

When she hopped off of him, blue eyes flew open wide, but all was understood as he watched Y/N peel her jeans away. She smiled as his gaze hovered over her plain blue panties and she held her breath while shaking those away as well.

Naked and dripping, she stood before him like a Renaissance statue. Curves and bumps, bruises and scrapes, the cream of her skin, the imperfect perfection of her; it was all there, on display, and Castiel reached for her, snaking his fingers between hers as their palms met.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, guiding her back into his lap.

She smiled against his lips and sank down onto his cock, drawing a deep moan from him. “So are you.”

She rode him slowly at first, rolling her hips gently as they kissed. When her hand slid behind his back again, he shuddered so deeply and jerked his hips upwards so quickly that she shivered and picked up her pace.

“Let me see them,” she whispered, running her hand over that sensitive spot on his back again.

Castiel groaned beneath her, his face smashed in the valley of her breasts. “I-I can’t.”

She took him in as deep as his thick cock would go, and kissed his panting lips. “Then let me feel. I want to feel the real you…”

Hands tight around her body, Castiel kissed her back, licking at her lips until she swooned in his arms.

“Close your eyes,” he ordered, “keep them closed.”

She did as he said, screwing her eyes closed tight while his wings unfurled. She felt the rush of wind, heard the sound as they grew to full size. He could see her struggle to keep her eyes shut, so he kissed her again, distracting her with his hot tongue.

Castiel bent his wings around them, encasing their bodies in the invisible feathers. She felt the tips caress her flesh, smelled the sea and the sky all around her. They were cool yet created a comforting warmth as they touched her, every graze sending blissful sensations through her body.

“My God,” she moaned, “Castiel… they’re… beautiful.”

He smiled and licked at her collarbone, thrusting upwards, fucking into her as she regained her barings.

One hand on his shoulder, the other wandered through the forest of feathers, gently stroking his wings as if touching the very essence of God.

Every brush of her fingers over his wings made his cock twitch and Castiel moaned without care, hiding his face in the crook of her neck as he fucked up into her dripping cunt.

“You’re so fucking amazing,” she cried, reaching back to caress the root of his wings, the source of it all.

Gritting his teeth, Castiel’s nails dug into her shoulders and hips, forcing her to work with him. He sent out a wisp of his Grace to fill her clit and Y/N screamed with orgasmic pleasure as she came hard and wet on his throbbing cock. One more jab of his hips and he came, shooting his load up into the depths of her.

It leaked down onto his slacks as she lifted up and collapsed into his arms.

“That-” Her head lolled against his shoulder and he held her close. “Amazing-”

Castiel kissed her cheek as she drifted into unconscious bliss, her body giving up after the intensity of it all. The long two weeks held captive by an insane deity, the realization of the Horrific and Divine, the orgasm he’d just thrust upon her; it had all caught up at once, and Y/N went limp against him.

He kept his wings out and around them as he carried her to his room.

It wasn’t truly his room, not really his bed as he never slept, but it was where he felt comfortable when he was relaxing. The pillows were soft and the blanket was always tucked in perfectly.

He lay Y/N down and untucked the blanket for the first time ever, gently draping it around her as she rolled onto her side.

Hand on her forehead, Castiel sent another faint wave of Grace through her, sending her into a deeper sleep.

“Rest well, Y/N…”

She smiled in her sleep, somehow whispering his name. “N’ght, Castiel.”

2023 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@aditimukul @agirlwithdemonblood @amanda-teaches @akshi8278 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @b3autyfuldisast3r-blog @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @because-imma-lady-assface @bloodline1632 @charred-angelwings @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @djs8891 @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @deansyahtzee @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @iamsapphine @idreamofdeanie @ilsawasanacrobat @impalaspixie @iprobablyshipit91 @jawritter @justcallmeasmodeus @kazsrm67 @kittenofdoomage @leigh70 @lovealways-j @lyarr24 @mariekoukie6661 @maggiegirl17 @mistressofallthingsgeeky @pandaxo79 @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @roseblue373 @sacriceria @samwellwinchesterthebrave @sexyvixen7 @spideysimpossiblegirl @spnexploration @stevekempscocktails @the-wounded-healer05 @thoughts-and-funnies @vulgar-library  

#spn fanfic #castiel #castiel x reader #cas x reader #castiel x you

[envy-of-the-apple]

RAST is my current obsession, thank you v much for your service!! i love love LOVE how uncomfortable and how unsettling you've written it out to be, i swear i've reread it everyday since you've posted it, i fall in love w your writing a bit more each time <3 i can only imagine what would happen in miss gem pissed off the two BAD. more than just consistent attempts to run off, just plainly... not accepting them as 'her own' or stuff that'd be most likely to set them off without her knowing, maybe she's just so withdrawn all the time that it's getting on satoru's nerves... suguru's no longer keeping a leash on satoru, who's less than merciful regarding miss gem's acting out, and it makes me akhskajd what's something miss gem does that could really get them mad? i'm genuinely curious about how far the two would go if their patiences were to be tested. (and at any point, would it lead to any gunplay in... intimacy? more punishing than anything?)

god i should've put gunplay in the fic. now that i think about it my smut fics are getting a little bland i gotta kick it up a notch.

anywayyy tyyyy for like the fic!! regarding pushing them...hmm. Let's say Miss Gem does run away one time too many. Suguru thinks you just need another chance to prove yourself. Satoru thinks you need a wake-up call. Just this once, Suguru releases the reigns.

The handcuffs, the lectures, are all nothing compared to the wide grin on Satoru's face as he glides the cold metal across your neck, up to your cheek. He giggles at your pleas and sobs. When you look at Suguru, hoping he'll pull Satoru out of his mania, the man just stands there, leaning against the wall. He's not here to help. He just wants to watch.

Satoru doesn't stop until you apologize until you're barely garbling out words anymore. He doesn't stop until he's sure you've learned your lesson.

When you pass out, he'll toss the prop away, complaining it doesn't feel real without bullets. Suguru will chide him for going too far but even he's impressed by the effectiveness.

You don't run after that.

#yandere #yandere jjk #dark jjk #dark gojo satoru #dark content #yandere gojo satoru #asks #RAST ask #dark geto suguru #yandere geto suguru

[voidtouched-blue]

starter for @forgotten-contract

Bustling cities had a kind of charm about them that just drew people in. Merchants bringing wares to sell, adventurers seeking their next job, the impoverished looking for a new start, and of course knowledge seekers pulled in by the wealth of information and skills the guilds provided. Ul'Dah was the jewel of the desert. It's streets gilded by the sun, and its people the heart of its illuminating glimmer. Yet, in all the excitements and pleasures the glittering gem provided, what interested Cyra more were the secrets that laid in the dark.

It had been six months with no answer to her summons, and she grew tired of waiting. The wound still fresh in her heart had been her driving force for the last year, and now her curiosity and thirst had brough her to the Thaumaturges' guild once more. The brothers that commanded their charge of the tomb their order operated out of were no strangers to her. The healer had made generous donations of both monetary and service-related origin in the past. Even her interest in the arts of Thaumaturgy had captured their interest enough to allow her nearly free roam of the sanctuary. What interested her more than their method of manipulating aether was the carefully kept tomes secreted in their collection.

The art of Thaumaturgy was deeply rooted in an understanding of the Voidsent, and the natural charge of a Black Mage was the power of destructive magics at their fingertips. The techniques had been passed down from mages who had learned to wield and control the secrets given to them by the denizens of the Void, and Cyra's desire for those secrets carried an unnatural thirst for the forbidden knowledge stored within the sanctum. While she had the support of the guardians of the tomb, none of them were willing to grant her permission to access those materials.

Perhaps there is aught I can glean from their available texts. In the very least I can try to keep track of constant themes between tomes. Her thoughts danced around the idea of sneaking in after hours, even casting a simple sleeping spell on the brothers on watch just to get a glance. Initially, she only wanted to ask permission to simply see the secrets they kept locked away, but even her display of mastery over the destructive magicks wasn't enough to convince them that she could keep her wits about her.

They had the right of it.

Cyra's want for their information was borne entirely out of her craving for power. Were she a little more lost to her madness, she would have considered taking it by force, but her principles kept her from acting on impulse. She would not take a life so needlessly. Not unless her well-being had been threatened first.

The hours she had spent in one day alone was more than most of their students would spend practicing their craft. So driven was she by her desires that she neglected any attempts at getting her attention throughout the days she had spent perusing their collection. She would find the answers she was looking for, and if she had to, Cyra was prepared to even commit crimes to fulfill her wish. "Gods-damnit!" She cursed in a sharp whisper. "This would be so much easier if they would just let me have a peek." It took a significant amount of restraint to keep her from slamming her fists onto the table in frustration. Several stacks of tomes covered the surface within her reach, with a rather large and delicately decorated one opened in front of her. She tapped her dry quill on the page, rereading her notes as she compared copied passages from multiple books with one another. The mentions were too vague to have any immediate connections to the titles she had heard Cocobuki mention in passing to one of his brothers.

She leaned back in her seat, setting the quill down in the ink well and letting out a frustrated sigh. The Miqo'te rubbed her face with her free hand, her gaze shifted distantly to the candle that sat just out of reach on the other end of the table. The playful dance of the flame held her focus for a moment. It was curious how something so small had the power to cause catastrophic destruction. She knew what she asked of the brothers. She knew what the consequences would be should she lose control over the magick she sought to control. Cyra was sure that her determination and desire were strong enough to overcome any perceived failure they may have had nestled among their doubts.

"Aghk!" Something in the light felt like it burned a hole into her mind. She winced, hunching over slightly in the chair as she cradled her face delicately with her clawed hands. She had felt headaches before, but this was different. The sharp pain behind her eye moved to her forehead. Her vast knowledge of the body, and its innumerable ails didn't provide her with any immediate answers.

"Perhaps..." She grunted, rubbing her temples. "Perhaps it's time for a small respite from throwing my head at the wall." The healer pinched the bridge of her nose and pushed her seat away from the table. As she moved, the headache seemed to pulse. The way it ached had her nearly incapacitated. But as suddenly as the pain appeared, it had subsided to a dull throb. I should return home. I doubt they will grant me access, and I have much to go over. I would also prefer to suffer through this fatigue in the comfort of privacy.

As she stood up from her seat, spots obscured her vision. She wobbled, only catching herself at the last moment on the surface of the table before she had completely toppled over herself. In her brief episode, she had knocked over the chair. The sound of the wood clattering onto the stone floor had silenced any conversation happening throughout the sanctuary, and yet she couldn't be bothered to even pay attention to it. All she wanted was to regain control of herself. But something felt like it was wriggling around in her head, sending her vision into a spin and losing focus on the task at hand.

The flame on the candle flickered towards her curiously.

#ic #I had so much fun writing this! #[Aspects of Black and White]

[scuttlingcrab]

After rereading the last two installments of the Tailor Tav™️ saga, where Raphael crosses paths with her at a ball and where he reaffirms his desire to commission another piece from her, and the unrelated (I'm assuming) piece where Raphael tries to gift Tav something, I can't help but picture how Raphael would react to Tav teaching him a bit of her craft—at least the non-magical parts of it. Maybe she can use an offer to teach him as part of a bargain with him to free her from the stipulations that ban her from creating for anyone other than Raphael himself? (also I just love the idea of this devil and his a mortal having something like a shared hobby together and/or Tav being a gracious teacher who doesn't belittle Raphael's early efforts when they inevitably aren't quite as perfect as he'd hope, but I'm getting ahead of myself here; just wanted to let you know that your writing is living rent free in my mind)

Tailor Tav™️ is back! I've been looking forward to this one for awhile and really hope you enjoy! Thanks for filling my inbox with gems like this! x

Summary: Tav makes a proposition for Raphael, offering to teach the Devil her craft of sewing in exchange for him relinquishing her creative ban. Raphael finds stitching a wee bit harder than he initially expected.

Notes: Based on A Perfect Fit, Dressed to Kill, Shadowy Deals, and Dance with the Devil. Tailor Tav™️ has also appeared in a few other one-shots, hehe.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

Trial by Fire

(Image via red-dead-sakharine)

“Would you hold still?” Tav asked, her voice on the edge of frustration. 

She quickly put out the growing flames with a spell, stopping the fire before it began to overtake the rest of the table. 

Raphael sat sourly beside her, completely out of place in her tent. He had humiliated himself, feeling like an outright fool for the first time in over a thousand years. He held a charred piece of clothing in his hands, the fine material ruined due to his shoddy needlework and rising temper. Somehow Raphael not only failed to join together the fabric, but had created a stitch so crooked and tangled that nothing could be done to reverse his mistakes. The Devil would need to start over. Again. 

He shifted in the wooden seat, raising his hand as he prepared to snap his fingers, hoping to erase the day’s mortification permanently from his memory. Just looking at the wretched garment left a bitter taste in his mouth. Tav cleared her throat, her own scolding gaze rivalled Raphael’s disposition, causing him to lower his hand back to the table. 

Raphael’s seat was still smoking, the top of the wood charred from his last outburst. He impatiently drummed his fingers on the tabletop, small scorch marks growing blacker with the increasing tempo as he waited for Tav to continue.

“No magic, Raphael.” Tav said, the exasperation had disappeared from her tone, only kindness and patience remained, which pained Raphael more. “Now please, try not to melt this needle. It’s my last one.”

Tav placed the needle in her open palm, extending it towards Raphael. 

“I will do my best, but I cannot make any guarantees.” Raphael responded through tight lips, carefully retrieving the needle.

They’d been at it for hours, each minute that dragged on grew heavier on Raphael’s shoulders; weighing him down more than his increasing responsibility to secure the Crown of Karsus. Raphael had watched Tav carefully, making precise notes and calculations on how to anchor a thread and initiate the first stitch, yet his infernal hands could not grasp such a simple mortal notion. 

He must’ve burned over a hundred articles of clothing since he began, slowly depleting Tav of her resources as he struggled to amend his previous errors. He vowed to himself not to leave Tav’s tent until he conquered sewing, until he successfully made himself a basic tunic devoid of any flaws. He would never dare let that little mouse beat him at anything. 

Raphael was practically perfect, he wasn’t afraid to admit it. If he could, he would proclaim it from the highest mountain top for all living beings to hear. The Devil was a master connoisseur, and above all, a jack of all trades. He had to be in this line of work; after all, how else did he get so far without even an ounce of assistance from his beloved father, Mephistopheles? 

He prided himself in his studies, in the relentless work and countless hours of preparation done to lay the foundations for his future. He shadowed only the greatest painters, memorised the intricacies of politics from every realm, and even went so far as to read all the noteworthy books that have been published throughout the millennia; but nothing prepared him for the horrors of being a tailor. The job required an old fashioned sensibility, a delicate handmade approach to see any design through to completion. 

Tav leaned towards Raphael, lightly placing her hands over his in an attempt to guide him. He stiffened slightly at her soft touch as she began to lift his hands. Raphael discretely tilted his head, hoping to get a better look at Tav without bringing anymore attention to himself. 

The Devil needed to concentrate, but he found himself momentarily distracted as his eyes fell on a small pale scar that decorated her chin. Raphael’s high standards for his own appearance allowed him to grow obsessed with others’ imperfections; finding more beauty in mortal flaws than in their perfect physiques or conventional facial features. Tav had a peculiar allure about her that made Raphael’s attraction flourish the longer he spent in her presence.

She brought a dark piece of thread to her lips, wetting the tip of it with her tongue before placing it in Raphael’s hand. He carefully watched the act, something so mundane had a hidden layer of intimacy attached that caused his heart to unexpectedly flutter. 

Raphael took a long deep breath to calm himself, there was a risk Tav might feel his body temperature rise as his heart continued to slam against his chest, beating faster and faster like a cursed infernal engine. He slowly took in Tav’s scent, savouring the notes of cloves and roses, now mixed with just a hint of perspiration.

“OK…” Tav whispered, causing Raphael to unwillingly pull his gaze away from her. “Thread the needle, just like we practised.” 

Tav’s grip tightened as she helped Raphael push the thread carefully through the eye of the needle. She let out a loud sigh as it went through with ease, shocking them both.

“I will pretend I didn’t hear that.” Raphael responded, dryly.

“You nearly burned down my tent, twice, in the last hour! Please allow me this moment to celebrate.”

Raphael’s nostrils flared as his seat began to smoke underneath him.   

“No offence, of course.” Tav added, quickly taking the thread and needle away from Raphael, “you’ll get it, eventually. Practice makes perfect, right?”

“Bah! Petty mortal idioms are of no use to me. We will continue, I have yet to learn what lies beneath the expertise of your craft.” 

Tav hesitated, cradling the needle and thread in her hands. 

“Listen, how about we take a break, yeah? I’m spent. With any luck you’ll finish this first piece within a fortnight.” 

“And is that how long it typically takes you to complete this type of labour?”

“Gods no! Half a day, maybe one at most. Of course, it depends what else I’ve got going on when I’m not fighting my way through Faerûn.” Tav grinned back at Raphael. 

The Devil held back a gasp. He had wasted an entire day catering to Tav’s ludicrous games and didn’t have a single piece of clothing finished to prove himself. Mortals cannot be trusted, even when their very souls were at stake they’d be foolish enough to risk it all if it meant satisfying their own agendas. 

“I’ve had enough of this blatant display of tomfoolery.” Raphael stood dramatically, pushing back the chair as he walked towards the tent's entrance.

The instant Raphael learned Tav went against her word, having the audacity to craft clothing for anyone but him, he nearly sent a torrent of Hellfire down on her camp. He had discovered the little mouse’s betrayal from Korrilla’s reports, his resentment spreading as he read through the detailed descriptions again and again. Tav had gifted all her companions garments ranging from nightgowns to luxurious capes, outfits that belonged to him. Tav went so far as to give out her clothing for free to random mortals she encountered on her travels. The little mouse had truly taken Raphael for a fool.

Raphael released his blistering rage on Korrilla, blaming the dwarf for her ineptitude and Tav's errors. For every piece of clothing Tav made in breach of contract, he added an extra day to Korrilla’s penance; temporarily stripping Korrilla of all Warlock powers and forcing her to train his latest apprentice, Dolofina. He even denied her use of his healing baths until she truly learned her lesson.  

When Raphael summoned Tav to his House of Hope, demanding an explanation, he was instead met with another proposition. Tav would teach him her craft in exchange for her freedom from the stipulations of their agreement, relinquishing the creative ban Raphael had set in place.

“Just give it another chance. You will soon appreciate the work that goes into making garments, I promise you.”

“These idle promises are waning, little mouse. The terms have yet to be honoured.” 

“Gods, don’t you understand? You will still get exclusive clothing. You think I would dare make another doublet like yours? That was my greatest work, and I only hope to do better with your next piece.” Tav paused, rising to meet Raphael at the entrance. “But I need to make a living.”

“You think life will just return to normal after the Elder Brain is destroyed? A foolish fancy.”

“I have a shop waiting for me in the Lower City, collecting dust. I’ll be damned if I let it go to waste when this is all over.”

“Your little shop is meaningless against what I can offer you in exchange.”

Tav nodded, almost considering the possibility, the future they’d share together.

“As nice as that sounds I’d get bored eventually.”

Raphael titled his head, a smile slowly loosening his lips. He was surprised at how little anger he felt at that moment; in contrast to the fury he experienced throughout the day, a growing warmth rose in his chest. He took a step towards Tav, towering over her as he admired her grit. The little mouse was mighty, ferocious, and would not back down so easily. The Devil was very much looking forward to this fight.

“Mortals, ever so fickle.” 

He placed a hand on his hip, studying the tent that was close to shambles. But of course. It only made sense he failed learning to sew on the first attempt, such mortal professions were beneath him, unbefitting for his station and ability for comprehension. It would require more thought, more time. 

And what more did Raphael need to do in order to impress that creature? He held all the most important cards close to his chest, allowing no one else to peek behind the curtains. Perhaps there was something else he could dangle in front of her? Something more enticing, causing her to drop everything in allegiance to him.

Every great hero has their foibles and Raphael would discover Tav’s soon enough, as he did with all the others that came before her. Not only would he acquire the proper skills of her craft, but he would crack her open, dissecting every inch of that soul in the process.

“Very well. We will continue again at first light. And this time, I expect to leave with a finished tunic.”

#writing #bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #baldurs gate 3 raphael #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 #fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #raphael x reader #raphael bg3 x reader #raphael x tav #raphael #tailor tav #tav bg3

[phdmama]

I'd absolutely love some sterek fic recs because I'm trying to broaden the ships I read. I've watched the first 3 seasons of teen wolf but haven't read any fics and don't know where to start. I'm fairly open to reading any content, although I'm not the biggest fan of like the common school/coffee shop etc AUs.

Also I love how you're gotten into blogging hockey recently. Have you read any hockey rpf since getting into nhl? Personally sidgeno and mattdrai have my heart, but like I said I'm looking for new ships to read like sterek.

WOOOO LET'S GOOOO!!

As always, read the tags etc etc. Probably a lot of these will be author recs. I will say Sterek has the potential for an age gap concern but I don't read fic where that's written as a predatory thing, FWIW, but I do read some where Stiles is 17 but where I feel like it's handled at least somewhat gracefully

Gravity's Got Nothing on You by @zosofi is great - I really like all their stuff actually!

@kalpurna's Fascination and @drunktuesdays' bigger, longer and uncut are both *gems* - so funny.

We've Written Volumes (in Blood and Scars and Ink) by @notthequiettype is absolutely brilliant, one of my fav fics of all time, way up on my reread regularly list. They only have one other Sterek but I love that one too (and they write hockey rpf but I haven't really dived in there yet!).

The Moon's Gonna Follow Me Home by @turningterrific is stunning. They're SUCH a good writer, although sadly this is their only Sterek (but they have written some amazing hockey RPF as well!).

Every stumble and each misfire by @everchanginginks is fucking phenomenal. True story, I read this fic and then didn't keep track of it but it stayed in my brain, and I spent literally HOURS combing my AO3 history to find it, and when I did, I promptly downloaded it and created the "Best Ever" collection on my Kindle specifically for this fic.

Everything by @suburbanmotel. They are an incredible writer and even more incredible person and I'm so lucky to call them a friend!

I really love @lunacanislupus-22-blog writing but particular favorites are: Feel it like a fever, burning through the night , Spirit grows when love goes away and I know that you love me, even when I lose my head (and I'm not normally one for amnesia fics because they make me SO ANXIOUS but this one is SO good).

Cornerstone by Vendelin is really good too (mind the tags on this one).

By Any Other Name by @entanglednow is fucking phenomenal (and again with the amnesia fics?!?!) and so so well-written. Check out all their stuff!

I really love @devildoll's writing very much a lot! Particular favorites include: Come with Me and Walk the Longest Mile (and I don't usually gravitate to post-apocalyptic fic even though I love the genre in fiction but this one is fucking brilliant); Stand Fast in Your Enchantments (painful and so good); My Heart Comes Tumbling Down (OH MY HEART) and Love, Like a Sentence of Death.

There's Monsters at Home by @wellhalesbells | calrissian18 is a classic and really good! They've written a ton of really great fics (the Hilary Duff lyrics one is a another personal favorite!)

Not Quite Lost (Not Quite Found) by @alocalband is gorgeous. Just. beautifully written.

stuck in reverse by @crazyassmurdererwall is also really good! Definitely check the tags on this one, as it is Stiles still in HS.

Start Small, Like Oak Trees by smallbirds is really lovely. Everything of theirs that I've read, I've really liked.

Okay, just a couple more I promise!!

The Difficult Kind (series) by whiskey_in_tea is an old one but really really wonderful.

The First Date series by @halffizzbin - the whole thing is delightful but I absolutely adore the final installment!

I will note that many of these authors also have Hockey RPF fic, JUST SAYING (I really am fascinated as to what that pipeline is??). I've read a ton of hockey RPF as well (sidgeno for sure) and I'll check out mattdrai now!!

Anyway, hope this helps as a place to start!!

#sterek fic recs #okay so maybe I went a bit overboard #but I stand by my recs #fic rec of the read

[cr0ftisprocrastinating]

Hi croft! I just finished nowhere else to go and I just wanted to say it was unlike anything I have read so beautiful, so heartbreaking, utterly mesmerizing. thank you for writing such a gem of a fic. I saw so much of myself in hermione, and i am so grateful and hopeful to find light as well.

I know I will have a hard time finding something like this again so I wanted to know if you have a list of your favourite dramione fics that enthrall you completely, or ones you keep coming back to again and again?

Thank you so very much. Nowhere Else to Go has such a special place in my heart, because it was SO hard to write, but I'm so proud of it, and I also feel very honoured that it has prompted so many people to say and share really lovely, vulnerable and intimate things when they compliment it, and that's so special to me!

I don't think I've ever read a fic like NETG in terms of style, but the ones I reread all the time are way happier in tone lol. I love the fluff!

I'm always talking about @thebemoon's The Darkwood Wand and The Gloriana Set.

I also adore @scullymurphy's entire catalogue of work, basically, but the most recently completed multi-chapter Teach Me How To Forget is gorgeous.

My most favourite recently-completed work has to be @onebedtorulethemall's Bad Omens. It is truly so remarkable, so enjoyable, and so perfect in every possible way.

(also, the classics: DMATMOOBIL, Wait and Hope, etc etc)

Some shorter ones that I had lots of fun reading:

Dial G for Granger by @dramioneog

Custom Fit by @thebrightcity

Tentacular by @kayka

Finally, my favourite drop-everything WIPs:

Antinomian by @starsoforionwrites, and Under Their Protection by the lovely @stein048 <3

If you want something that has a similar kind of rhythm to NETG, then I got most of my inspiration for the spacing/sense of breath, pause and movement from playwriting!

Some of my favourites are: The Nether by Jennifer Haley, Antigone (the Dudley Fitts and Robert Fitzgerald trans is the one I used I think, but I also adored Lulu Raczka's interpretation), and anything by Lucy Prebble (she also was on the writing team for Succession!).

For general creeping sense of doom/unease, then Harold Pinter is the master of that. I'd recommend The Birthday Party.

ALSO 'It's True, It's True, It's True', which is about Artemesia Gentileschi is a favourite.

You used to be able to stream It's True - unsure if you still can but if it's available I *highly* recommend watching.

All my love xxx

#crofts insane rambling