#Below 1k

[ganondoodle]

struggeling to draw anything for the totk rewrite bc i know the most popular stuff is some cool cutscenes or something and me working on detailed mechanics is mostly a waste of time :/

like i have alot of stuff worked out by now but it would take ages to draw concepts for all those new menus and mechanics when few people are interested in that- and while making a giant text post about it would be more efficient ... who the hell would read all that ._.

[frozenoj]

Published Reylo Fics Master List

Everyone knows reylos stay winning, and I have no doubt we'll be one of the most published fandoms of all time. List originally posted on twitter (and actually stolen from an anti lmao) but ported over considering... all that.

(Note: I'm mostly just C&P'ing right now, if you know an author has a tumblr and they aren't tagged please lmk thanks! And ofc lmk if I've missed any or as new things get published.)

Ali Hazelwood Cinematic Universe

Three novels, three novellas, and she's just getting started.

Go Hex Yourself by Jessica Clare

When Reggie Johnson answers a job ad, she’s astonished to find that she’s not applying to work at her favorite card game, Spellcraft: The Magicking. Instead, she’s applying to be an actual familiar for an actual witch.

We'd Know By Then by Kirsten Bohling

Meeting your soulmate triggers "the glimpse"—walking out of Dorothy's house in Kansas and into the colorful world of Oz. The problem is, Brighton has ALWAYS seen in color.

For Love and Bylines by Merrin Taylor

When Ava Thompson is offered an undercover investigative role, she jumps at the chance. But posing as a high school senior proves to be more than Ava signed up for when she meets brooding English teacher, Nico Adams.

Almost Perfect by Charlie Mitchell

Recovering from a brain tumour, Ben has lost confidence in sex & relationships. So he gets in touch with Rey, a specialised sex worker, to help him get over his fears.

Soul Searching by E. A. Blevins

Finding your soulmate is like winning the lottery. They're rare and precious and lead to riding off into the sunset.

They're not supposed to be your high school English teacher or carry baggage that can tear you both apart.

The Hurricane Wars by @theaguanzon

A land ravaged by storms and conquerors…

A refuge across the sea that comes at a price…

A volatile alliance between two bitter enemies…

A growing attraction as dangerous as it is irresistible…

Crossroads by Chaney Banett

Ester lives a simple enough life as a waitress at a truck stop diner, plopped in middle-of-nowhere Minnesota. Her days aren’t boring necessarily. It’s just that they’re one all the same.

She doesn't question life very often. She doesn't question anything at all, actually.

…Until the mysterious regular at booth sixteen starts asking.

Hanukkah at the Great Greenwich Ice Creamery by Sharon Ibbotson

Grumpy Cohen orders a coffee when he goes to deliver a present from his mother at the ice creamery. While there he's immediately drawn to River, the Deaf woman who makes the ice cream flavors.

My Roommate is a Vampire by @jeenonamit

Cassie Greenberg's desperate when she finds a too-good-to-be-true apartment in a beautiful Chicago neighborhood. She knows there has to be a catch—only someone with a secret to hide would rent out a room for that price.

Cassie’s sexy new roommate is a vampire. And he has a proposition for her.

The Rockstar’s Omega by Hannah Haze

Layla won a backstage pass to meet her idol, Ash Canon. What will they do when his scent sends her into heat?

(Does anyone know if Hannah's other works also used to be reylo? LMK!)

The Alpha Nextdoor by Dani Doll

It doesn’t matter how hot the alpha next door is. She’s a beta, and that means it’ll never work between them.

Right?

The Exception to the Rule by Christina D. Ambrose

Violet Dawson is spirited, independent, and definitely not your typical Omega. She's determined not to be drawn to the gorgeous Theodore Chamberlin, senior editor and company Alpha asshole.

They are thrust together to plan an event, and all seems to go well until Violet's workspace floods, and they have to share an office.

What will become of them when their close proximity causes Violet to go into heat?

The Most Titillating Tale of Miss Hall & Dr Black by Jenny Michelle

Miss Charlotte Hall, bored & neglected by her Grandfather, has a shameful problem. Desperate, she turns to his physician for help. But she hadn't expected the help to be quite so…manly.

Antique Magic by Kait Disney-Leugers

Brie St. James is in need of a part-time job. She finds it at Spirit Antiques, owned by the handsome and aloof Ezra. But there's more to the shop than meets the eye. Under the layers of patina and dust, a gateway to the magical world and the shop is the crossroads of goods for the magical residents.

To Have & to Hold by Avery Crow

When Clara’s work visa is denied, she figures that’s the end of the road for her. Until her boss offers to marry her.

The idea of going back to cold, gloomy London and the dark past that haunts her is only slightly worse than having to somehow convince her friends and coworkers that her new marriage is authentic, and that there is any sort of love between them.

But Andrew Morrow is full of surprises, and Clara soon finds herself in over her head and pining for a man who is, after all, only doing her a favor.

Kirsten S. Blacketer

Kirsten has a ton of books, like omg a ton! Looks like at least 7 different series/collections? I don't know how many of them were reylo originally (could be all, could be just a few) but check them out.

[mangofresca]

luminary

He isn’t sure where it comes from, but it’s an urge that rises suddenly, all-consumingly, with no hunger or warning to prelude it, like a countdown placed upon his life only seen as it hits zero—a flash of red, and suddenly every second ticking by is another second too late, another moment lost.

Lovino is smiling so brightly that the simmering heat of Agrigento’s summer seems more akin to the frigid winds of winter. He’s laughing—not a snort, not the contrite brush aside or sardonic smirk he gets when he thinks he’s being clever—head thrown back and shoulders shaking with mirth.

Alfred forgets how to speak, how to think or move or breathe, forgets everything except how to stare—gawk, his brain helpfully supplies, very obviously—regarding Lovino as if he was the one to paint the stars across the sky, to sprinkle indigo and amethyst across the midnight horizon, to use hardened hands to cradle the sun and bring lighted warmth to the world. As if he was something beautiful, ethereal, untouchable.

Except, he’s not; he’s not untouchable in the way Alfred previously perceived him to be, distanced by water and antiquity and a complex Lovino tends to wear like his own form of bastardized battle armor. He is there, right there, laughing, and Alfred wants to reach out a hand and–

And.

He’s touching Lovino’s face before he’s even thought the action through, before he’s even realized he’s done it, cupping his hand around the swell of a cheek and feeling the heat of it still flushed with laughter and wondrously-worn glee. He feels the expression under his palm calm as that smile fades, replaced instead with slowly-dawning confusion, soft in its perplexity, and he traces his thumb across the dip of Lovino’s under-eye, if only to savor the way those dark eyelashes flutter.

“Alfred?” Lovino asks, painfully sincere, with a tone that melds between a question and vague, befuddled acknowledgement. His eyes are wide. He does not move away.

“Would it be cool if I kissed you right now?” It’s a reply in the technical sense, an answer to a question that had seemingly been hanging in the air for longer than he realized. His own voice is startlingly soft considering the pressing urgency he feels tugging at his gut, his hands, his tongue, like if he can’t have this nownownow he’ll die, starved, stripped of life before he’d even realized he was bleeding.

Lovino gapes at him, blinking slowly. The cheek beneath Alfred’s palm burns warm, and he almost expected Lovino to blush, to feel skin stain itself scarlet beneath the pads of his fingers. He wonders if he should ask why it doesn’t.

There’s a moment where hazel eyes flick from his down to his lips before rising again, and Lovino makes a noise in the back of his throat like a hum, a huh, like he’s realized something about himself and the world and the universe. Like the knowledge of whatever it is has only just settled, and now he must contend with life now that he has it.

He blinks at Alfred again. “Yeah.”

He says it like it’s easy, like it’s always been easy, like permission would have always been granted had Alfred ever had the wherewithal to ask. Alfred files that away for later, wondering, not for the first time, if he missed something in the tones of Lovino’s voice, if something else existed in the recesses of cutting words and huffed musings and trite insults that were never really all that insulting to begin with. But that’s for another time, or maybe never, because Alfred never really cared to indulge in worries and preclusions, and Lovino is too good to be wasted on half-baked ruminations when the now was so much better.

Lovino says it like it’s easy, and when Alfred ducks his head down and leans in, it certainly feels easy, easier than maybe he expected. It feels like old nights spent tucked beneath the dim lights of New York speakeasies, of hushed conversations held in the stacks of his library, like something big and bright and cosmic had settled off somewhere far away, a revelation exploding in the periphery of his universe, vast and grand in its own private corner.

Lovino’s hand settles boldly on his shoulder, fingers brushing the hairline at the back of his neck, and Alfred can feel every inch of it burn through his clothes. Lovino tastes like vintage wine and the cigarette he had been smoking not ten minutes ago, and even though Alfred hates the smell, he thinks he can learn to like the taste if it’s been tempered by sweet reds and the natural soft of Lovino’s tongue brushing past his lips. Alfred feels Lovino’s cheek move beneath his palm, and he doesn’t quite get why until he realizes that Lovino is smiling, pulling away enough that they look like two kids grinning into each other’s mouths, lost and dumb and found.

“Been wanting to do that for a while?” Lovino sounds smug, but his eyes are bright, sparkly, pretty, his hand fisting the back of Alfred’s shirt.

For a moment, Alfred thinks, if you count eighty seconds ago a while, sure, but that doesn’t seem right, isn’t right, and Alfred can feel certain pieces of their histories click into place—not any sort of life-altering change, but instead something soft, the clink of a plate placed in front of him on the nights when he wouldn’t bother with sleep, the fresh scent of pasta and garlic bread the only thing to bring him back into his own body, the reminder that he existed within the scope of four walls, the person as well as the land.

Lovino is so close, close enough for Alfred to feel the tickle of his bangs against his forehead, and suddenly every word and every gaze and every laugh pulled from scowling lips all align and glimmer like radiant galaxies, all with Lovino at the center.

“Nah,” he says, grinning at the eye roll. “Just thought of it now.” But that doesn’t stop him from doing it again.

[jamespottersmixtape]

september 9: ocean 1,118 words @rosekiller-microfic

Beach day! Just them being stupid and soft and in love :,)

Evan stretches his arms and legs languidly across the beach towel he's laying on. The fabric is littered with warm sand that has long since fallen off of his body, leaving behind patches of sunscreen where it clashed with the water. He can smell the salt drying in his hair, a breeze hitting his face as he squints at the sky.

It's days like today that make Evan believe in perfection—or, as close to perfection as something can get. The weather is lovely, bright sun and a cloudless sky, a cooling wind coming in from the west. The ocean waves lap against the shore in small swells, cold but bearable for swimming in the heat, and the sound of the water is a calming lull, set to draw people into it's shimmering depths.

He can hear children laughing with their parents, splashing and making sandcastles without a care in the world. It almost makes him ache for the childhood he never got—his family too hung up on stuffy suits and formal dinners to register what their kids might want—but he's past that now. That life is far behind him and not once has Evan ever looked back. Besides, he's far too content to sit and dwell on the past right now. He'd much rather bask in everything the coast has to offer him, and continue to ignore whoever keeps shouting his name in the distance.

He smiles to himself. Everything is perfect.

"Evan!"

He internally groans and closes his eyes. Maybe whoever is yelling will think he's asleep and decide not to bother him.

"Evann!!"

The voice is getting closer now. He thought everyone went to get snacks? Who is yelling? Why are they yelling?

"EVAN!" Before he knows it the voice is directly above him, and an entire bottle of water is being dumped on his face.

He startles with a very unmanly yelp, his eyes flying open to find Barty keeled over in laughter, water bottle in hand, and Regulus standing next to him looking rather irritated. "What the fuck?!" Evan asks, wiping the dripping water from his cheeks.

"What do you mean, what the fuck, we've been calling you for two minutes," Regulus huffs, taking a small step away from Barty as he chokes out the rest of his laughs.

Evan glares at the pair of them. "Why?"

"They ran out of cookies and cream," Barty shrugs, laughter still evident in the way his eyes are lit up.

"You–" he sighs, running fingers through his tangled wet hair. "You dumped water on me because they ran out of my favorite ice cream?" Sometimes Evan can't believe he fell in love with this man.

"We didn't know what else you wanted," Regulus says flatly. Evan can tell he's trying to hold back a smile. Asshole.

Evan scoffs, getting up from his now soaked towel and grumbling something along the lines of been my friends for 12 years and can't even remember what ice cream I like.

"Look, my fucking hair is all wet again. I just spent an hour drying off and you ruined it," he pouts, shoving a finger harshly into Barty's chest; they both know there's no bite beneath his words.

Barty snorts, taking Evan's hand in his as they walk towards the small ice cream shop located right off the beach. "You should've seen your face baby."

Evan's cheeks heat at the term of endearment. He can't remember when Barty started calling him that, but one day it appeared and never left, a new staple in Barty's 'Evan vocabulary'. Evan can't say he minds, in fact he's grown rather fond of the name.

"Dickhead," he grumbles in retaliation. "You're mean."

"Mmm, but that's why you love me." Barty presses a quick and sloppy kiss to his cheek before he can duck his head.

He rolls his eyes but returns the favor. He can taste the sweat and salt clinging to Barty's skin.

Regulus interrupts with a loud gagging noise. "You two are so fucking weird," he says, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

—

They get their ice cream without any more hiccups, Evan settling for salted caramel instead and Barty for an obscure chocolate combination. He doesn't even know why they get their own flavors really, him and Barty always trade halfway through—but he supposes that's the fun of it.

The four of them—it's just him, Barty, Regulus, and James today—spend the rest of the afternoon in and out of the water. They sunbathe, James hits a volleyball around—even roping Barty into a game or two, something Evan never would've seen coming—and Evan manages to carry Barty's lanky frame all the way to the shoreline to toss him in. It was revenge, okay?

By the time the sun is setting the two couples are sprawled a short distance from each other, watching the pink and orange hues dance along the horizon before the stars come out to play.

Evan has his back to Barty's chest, resting between his legs with both their hands entwined over Evan's stomach. Every so often Barty presses a kiss to Evan's temple.

It's rare for the two of them to have such tender moments like this, especially in the company of others. Usually they reserve their soft touches and quiet whispers for the tranquility of the morning or weekends at home, but it's a nice change to be so open with vulnerable affection.

"Today was fun," Evan yawns, his body finally catching up with the day's exhaustion.

Barty hums in agreement. “I’m gonna get you back for throwing me in the ocean though,” he murmurs, nipping at Evan’s earlobe.

“Excuse me, that was my payback.”

“Just saying," he lulls in a sing-song voice. "You better watch your back Ev.”

"I'll be sure to sleep with one eye open."

They both laugh at that, content and serene in the little bubble they've created. Evan tries to snuggle further into Barty's chest but to no avail. Barty lets him drop against the towel, swinging himself over Evan's body so his face hovers inches above his.

Evan raises an eyebrow. Barty's grin is devilish when it breaks across his face. He leans down and slots their lips together for a quick kiss, one filled with sun and ice cream and salty air.

When Barty speaks it's low, just for the two of them. A quiet I love you exchanged between an inhale and exhale. Three words that always open the floodgates to Evan's guarded heart.

The day ends with the two of them curled up on their sides, legs tangled and clothes dusted with sand as the last sliver of light dips below the water.

Evan couldn't ask for anything better.

[beinghuman11235]

Woah!!! There's a thousand of you??? Following this blog?? Man it's not even a year and a half old. How???

[sillimancer]

uuuughh ooouuugh ooooh owww <- person who wants pho but doesn't have money

[hzdtrees]

Beaches

[bambino1294]

Eat Your Young

A Time Travel Fic — Playlist

? Chapters | ? Words | Rated M

“This, however, is not the same boy she reaped the first time. He is not soft and teary, he is warped and hardened. His hands are lightly bandaged, coiled rags disappearing into his sleeves, and something behind his eyes is already scarring, already scarred. This is not the same boy she sent off to a Quarter Quell but, then again, she is not the same Escort he left behind either.”

OR

The prisoners of war try again.

[lavenoon]

Okokok hi!

How would the boys (Eclipse included) feel about s/o 'borrowing' a a piece of clothing (like a shirt) or accessories to wear and/or making an effort to match his outfits?

Alright lets go! I'll default to "shirt" in the scenarios but the sentiment applies to basically everything lmao

Sun: Stealing his shirt to wear it out in public: For the sake of whatever is getting you out in public, lets assume he doesn't see it until you already are out and about, because otherwise, y'all would be late. He'll still fuss a little, just for show - what else is going to give him the excuse to lean down and purr a low little "darling, you could have just asked" if not the fact that your collar absolutely needs to be fixed right now? Frankly, wearing his shirt is an ego boost he doesn't need - or absolutely does. Superficially, he'll be the worst peacock about it, because there you are - wearing his shirt in his colors while out with him, immediately showing everyone you meet that you're with him. But deep down, Sun is anxiety galore, and he lives for the reassurance that you chose this, that you like where your relationship is going, and that this is what you want. He'll love to indulge, not to worry <3

Which is to say. If you so much as breathe that you wanted to match him? Good fucking luck. This man is going to be barely contained glee at the prospect of getting to coordinate outfits with you - what kind of power couple you'd be! And to think that you might even want to add to your wardrobe just to have something that would match something of his? Goodbye, he's ascended, and then returned with a vengeance because he has to treat you now, as much as he can - do you want a whole matching dress/ suit? would you want just one article to match - perhaps a jacket, or shirt, or a scarf the color of his tie? Or the more subtle claim - cuff links and collar pins and necklaces, he's all for it, and you'll have one hell of a time trying to get him to be calm about it. Have fun!

Moon: Stealing his shirt to wear it out in public: Whelp, there goes Moon! Gets about halfway through a tease before the reality of the situation hits him and he just crumbles into a flustered mess. He'd love to be smug and tease you about raiding his closet for a shirt - he usually opts for basic t-shirts in solid colors, so it's not even that special. But it's his and you chose it specifically, and now you're wearing it and once you're done wearing it it'll end up in his closet again and then he'll wear the shirt you wore and - best to not continue, he's already about to combust. Already prefers not being the one handling public stuff, so he'll let you take the lead and just turns into your backpack on legs to occasionally hide his face under the pretense of giving you a nice little head nuzzle, and some very quiet mumbles of "the color suits you, you should wear it more often" <3

Now, if you went and told him you'd want to match him, specifically? Man's just bluescreening for a second there, whoops. A fumbling mess and definitely the most low key about matching among these three, because he gets flustered to hell and back at the thought of attracting that kinda attention. He loves the sentiment, don't get him wrong! But if you keep it to at home/ the neighborhood, his processors will thank you for not overheating. However, once you express that said sentiment? He'll start just putting his nightcap on you, with more or less vague excuses or deflecting compliments of "you look cute" depending on his daily shyness level. And sorry, did the temperature just dip? No? Too bad, he's already stripping out of his jacket (while stealing a glance if you're looking) and draping it around you, because "you looked cold" - cuddle him some more, because he's currently heating up from fluster, and it'll be win win!

Eclipse: Stealing his shirt to wear it out in public: Oh my god, you've killed him to death. His casual clothes are often very baggy, and he already has to buy larger stuff to cover his entire torso. Honestly, his reaction is twofold - on the one hand, he's just melting and cooing over you, just so absolutely in love and just an excited mess that you'd want to wear his clothes. On the other hand, he's very interested in what you do with the extra sleeves. For a long sleeved shirt, they'd probably tie around nicely like a waist belt? For that extra ~pizzazz~ - or tuck them into a high-waisted skirt or pants (skirts you can also steal from his closet. I wouldn't recommend the pants). As always, very touchy about it, looking with his eyes isn't enough! Propriety be damned, you better be somewhere where cuddling is possible because that's what he wants to do, and now <3

And if you as much as insinuate that the purpose was to match him? This guy is the king of cheese and proud, and he'll wear all the embarrassing couple's stuff with you - he'll love couple's shirts (both just, normal shirts but you each get one of the same, or the "if lost return to [x]" "I'm [x]" type of stuff), he'll love matching accessories (of which he already has many, and is happy to share - all except his sun and moon eclipse necklace), key chains, anything! He loves the idea of matching, and a non-negligible part of him basks in that validation that you want to be seen with him, associated with him, and want to broadcast that to people even more than just going out with him! You aren't ashamed to love him so openly, and as someone who might get a bit self conscious if he's the only one being openly affectionate and cheesy, it's balm to his soul and he'll love to go all out!

[xaphrin]

Smutober 02/10/22

RobRae/DickRae/NightRae

- - -

Raven heaved an exasperated sigh as Dick stood in front of her, looking like a soggy dog that had been kicked by its owner. The rain soaked him, spilling down over his usually windswept  hair and into his eyes. A bruise was forming under his right eye, and there was a gnarly gash that curled along his upper left arm. 

She shouldn’t let him in. She shouldn’t let him in. And yet she knew she was going to let him in. She knew that she would open her space for him again, and help him with whatever he needed. 

Why?

Because she was a sucker, and because it’s what she always did. In all their years together as teammates and friends, Raven couldn’t ever say no to him. She would always bend to his every whim - sometimes it really, really sucked being in love with someone who didn’t know how to acknowledge your existence beyond friendship.  

She gave him a flat stare and leaned her shoulder up against the window frame. “You know, when I moved to Bludhaven, it wasn’t to be your personal doctor.”

He gave her a cocky smile. “It was because you missed me.”

It was because she missed him, but she would never admit that out loud to him.  

“Come in. Let’s patch you up again.” Raven pushed open the fire escape window wider, and settled back on her heels as he climbed into her bedroom. “I swear. You have the absolute worst timing. You’ve always had the worst timing.” 

Dick looked around the room as he settled on the edge of her bed, waiting for her help. A little black dress was hanging on the back of her door, paired with sky-high heels. He blinked after staring at it for a long moment, and looked back at Raven. “Sorry. Were you going out?”

“Not anymore.” She picked up her phone and sent out a text, letting her date know she had to cancel. 

Raven had been determined to go out and try to have fun, or at least get laid so that she could be distracted from her feelings for Dick. But, he always had impeccable timing, and she would give him the world if he asked for it. So, rather than tell him no, she canceled her date. And now she was stuck at home healing her best friend, who had no idea that she had feelings for him. 

“Sorry.” He at least had the decency to look a little sheepish. “You know… you can tell me no sometimes.” 

“I could, but you know I won’t.” She grabbed the well-used first aid kit from under her bed and motioned to his uniform. “Get out of that so I can see what kind of damage we have to deal with.” 

Dick shrugged out of the skin-tight fabric and peeled the top half down so it pooled around his waist. Color flooded her face, and Raven felt her heart skip beats at the sight of him. It didn’t matter how many times he got naked in front of her, or how much of his skin she had seen before, it felt new and surprising every time. Her eyes slid down the curves and planes of his body, taking in the sight of his lithe form like she needed to burn it into her memory for the hundredth time. 

He smirked and tilted his face up to hers. “If you want a picture, I’m sure I can make arrangements.”

“Shut up.” Ignoring his teasing laugh, Raven grabbed the alcohol and cleaned the wound on his arm, as well as a few bloody knuckles. He winced at the burn against his skin, but Raven felt no remorse. “You really should be more careful when you go out on patrol, Dick. I swear your injuries get worse every time I see you.”

“You should see the other guy. This is being careful.” 

“Seeing me practically every other day is not careful. It’s careless.” Raven fell into a rhythmic pattern, cleaning and inspecting every injury to be sure that it was safe to use magic on. After she had determined that the wounds were sufficiently cleaned, Raven lifted her hand and used her magic to speed along the healing process. “I just don’t like seeing you get hurt so often. What happens when you get an injury I can’t fix with magic?”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, leaning his head into her hand when her thumb brushed over the bruise under his eye, filling the injury with healing magic. “Until then, I know I can trust you to put me back together when I stumble and break.” 

“You take advantage of my kindness, you know.” Her voice held a sharp edge, and she frowned. “I’m more than just the person you run to when shit hits the fan.”

A shade of remorse filled his eyes, and Dick glanced away. The air grew tense between them, and Raven tried not to feel worried that she may have broken a delicate bond with her careless words. Her emotions were just so damn tangled that it felt nearly impossible to try and understand exactly what this was between them - if it really was anything different than friendship. 

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, looking over at the little black dress still hanging on the back of the door. “So… where did you meet your date? At work?”

She ignored the note of caution in his question. “How do you know it was a date? Maybe I was just going to go out to a bar for drinks.”

“You picked out a whole outfit and hung it up. You want to see how it all looks together, meaning that you’re interested in what this person thinks about you.” He shrugged. “Ergo, a date.”

She really hated it when he pulled out all the detective shit on her. Especially when it came to her personal life. “I met them online.” Raven’s expression turned suspicious. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” He paused and shook his head, as if he was coming to terms with something about himself. “Actually, that’s a lie. I do care. A lot.” 

Raven put away her supplies and looked over at him. “Why?”

“Raven.” His voice held a note of exasperation, obviously exhausted by holding something inside for so long. “Why do you think it’s you that I come to see? I could go to literally anyone else, but you’re the one I come to see when I’m injured. You’re the one I call, just to check in. You’re the one that gets dumb memes when I’m stuck on a stake out. You’re the one I think about all the damn time. Because, when I get hurt, the first thing I think about is: what is Raven going to think? Is she going to worry? I don’t want her to worry.”

“Dick…” Raven blinked, heat climbing up her cheeks. What in the world was he saying? Did he… 

He fell back on her bed and threw a hand over his face. “I can’t believe it took me seven damn years to say this out loud. Raven, I love you. I have loved you since I met you, and… I don’t think I will ever stop loving you.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know you have so many other things going on in your life, and I’ve tried to give you space to figure it all out, but… I can’t anymore. I need to tell you.”

Raven felt every muscle in her body tightened with a rush of emotions before the tension released with a rush of breath. He loved her. Loved her. He had been trying to give her space because he thought that was what she wanted. Raven felt like her feet had been kicked out from under her, and she was toppling end-over-end into oblivion. 

She stuttered, trying to find the right words to say, but could only utter a helpless: “What?”

“I know you probably-”

“Don’t say what I think you’re going to say.” Raven launched herself onto the bed, straddling his hips and prying his arms away from his face. She slammed his wrists on either side of his head and threw her weight against his stomach, pinning him to the bed. 

Her eyes glowed dark with the unrestrained force of her magic, and she gnashed her teeth at him. “You don’t get to sit here and say ‘you probably don’t feel the same way’. I’ve been in love with you for years. I came to Bludhaven because of you. I let you into every facet of my life because I love you. You’re an absolute idiot if you can’t see how desperately and irrevocably I’m in love with you. So, you don’t get to lay here and act like you’re in some kind of agony, when I was right here waiting for you.”

Dick grabbed her waist and rolled her onto her back with ease, utilizing every martial art skill to subdue her. “You don’t get to act like I knew, Raven! I’m not a mind reader, and you’re so secretive and careful with your emotions.” He leaned forward, pressing his nose against hers. “How in the hell was I supposed to know? You treat all your friends the same way, and I thought you only cared about me as a friend.”

Raven opened her mouth to snap at him, but… he was right. Of course he was right. She may have been in love with him, but she had been so careful about hiding her true feelings that she had never given Dick any indication that she loved him. With a muttered curse, she closed her mouth and glared up at him. “I hate it when you’re right.”  

He laughed and leaned over her, pressing his hips down against her own. “I’m going to kiss you now.” 

She was going to do so much more. After all, she had seven years to make up for.  

Raven waited with bated breath as she felt Dick’s full, soft lips slide against her mouth. She could smell his aftershave mingling with his sweat, and a shiver ran down her spine. The kiss was tentative and cautious, and not at all what she wanted. At least not right now. She wasn’t going to run away, and he shouldn’t be afraid of her running away either. Not after their absolutely ridiculous confessions. 

“Kiss me like you mean it, Dick Grayson.” She reached up and threaded her fingers through the damp strands of hair on the back of his neck. “Or I swear, I will make your life a living hell.”

He blinked, obviously surprised by the way she spoke to him. A moment passed between them, and with a lopsided grin, Dick kissed her again. And this time he meant it. His mouth practically ravaged her. Kiss after kiss after kiss, drawing Raven into his body as if she was the only thing keeping him alive. His kisses burned straight through to her soul, and Raven felt her body go limp as he drowned her with the force of his emotions. 

Fuck. She was not prepared. 

Raven moaned against his mouth, and her fingers tightened in his hair as she hooked one leg up over his hip, pushing her body against his. In a matter of minutes, he had stripped her of every protection she tried to hold onto, and set her body on fire. She was hot and needy and desperate - things she never thought she would use to describe herself. Her moans turned to pleading whimpers, and she tipped her head back, offering her neck with a sigh. 

Dick’s mouth moved down her neck, nipping and biting at the soft flesh, leaving marks as he kissed down her body. Raven’s hands scrambled at the rest of his uniform, pushing the fabric off his trim hips and forcing it down onto the floor. Her hand smoothed over his skin, and she felt a laugh bubble up into her throat. 

Dick lifted his head from her collar bone, eyebrow knitting together. “What?”

“Only you would go commando.” Raven reached down and grabbed a handful of tight, bare ass with a smirk. “Not that I’m complaining.”

He gave her a deadpan look. “Get out of your damn clothes, Raven. I am going to fuck you so hard into this mattress, you forget about your online booty call.” 

“That better be a promise, Dick.” She was already shimmying out of her leggings as he yanked her tank top up over her head. They were both eager, and there was nothing that could keep them apart now. “Or I am going to be very disappointed.” 

Without warning, Dick pushed her legs apart, and dipped his head between her thighs. Her witty retort died on her lips, and Raven fell back on the bed. Dear god. It wasn’t fair that he was handsome, clever, funny, had an ass for days, and good at head. 

Raven’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as Dick wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking on it as he speared two fingers inside her with sharp, measured thrusts. It felt like it was only seconds before she was trembling, shivering as sweat spilled from her skin. She was racing towards her orgasm at break-neck speed, and she ground her hips tight against his mouth, demanding more. Yes, she was greedy, but right now, she didn’t care. He was giving her everything she wanted, and she wasn’t going to turn down a gift like this.

She gasped as his tongue spelled his name in double time, as if he was branding her for him and him alone. A high-pitched whine escaped, and Raven grabbed his head, feeling sparks start to dance along her skin. She pinned his mouth to her body, feeling her orgasm burn like hellfire in the pit of her stomach and the world nearly went dark around her.

“Dick…”

With a teasing sound, he worked harder at her, as if knowing he was about to destroy her. Raven held her breath in anticipation, and then… fireworks. It was cliche, yes. But, fuck. It felt like she was exploding into a million different sparkling colors. Her body was broken apart before being tossed back together, light glowing from the cracks. Dick continued to lap at her, drawing out her orgasm until she collapsed back on the bed. 

Gasping for breath, her eyes fluttered open, and she saw Dick kissing his way up her body. He nipped at her throat before pressing his lips to her ear. “You said kiss you like I meant it.”

She closed her eyes and let her hands drift down his back. “Oh, you meant it.” Her lips twitched. “And did you mean what you said, when you promised to fuck me into this mattress?”

He laughed and hooked her leg up along his hip again. “Yes.” 

In one, smooth movement, he pushed his generous cock into her. Raven’s back arched and she hissed her breath out between clenched teeth. It had been nearly a year since she had been with anyone, and Dick was no small feat. She shifted beneath him, listening to his labored breath and strained groans. 

“Fuck you’re tight.”

“Doesn’t help that you’re huge.” 

His responding hum sounded like he was preening at the compliment. 

They stilled for a moment, trying to get used to this sudden and new feeling. But it didn’t take long before the tension was replaced with a simmering feeling of desire burning just underneath their skin. Raven felt her magic spark at the edges of her fingertips, and she gasped, pushing her hips up into his. She needed him to move now, or she was going to lose all parts of herself to this desperation. Her mouth fell open with a silent groan, and she shivered against him. 

“Move.” Her nails raked down his back, and she felt tears start to gather at the edges of her eyes. “Please. Oh, god, please. Fuck me.” 

He pulled back and slammed into her with enough force that the headboard shook against the wall. Raven’s fraying control finally snapped, and she screamed, urging him forward to take her harder and faster. She didn’t want a slow exploration of each other’s bodies - that was for later. She wanted to be utterly consumed and then destroyed by him. She wanted to be a useless, boneless mess, fucked so good that she didn’t even remember her own name. 

And he was doing a bang up job so far. 

Dick was relentless, his body pounding into her own with wild abandon. He was muttering things to her under his breath, emotions and feelings and memories she had nearly forgotten about. It felt like he was trying to bring back some softness to this carnal depravity, but there was nothing that could make this gentle and innocent again. This a moment of raw passion, and their emotions took a backseat to the urgency of their physical desire. 

Raven screamed again, her muscles sizing as time slid through her fingers, disappearing with every frantic thrust of his body. The room was filled with curses and groans, and the sound of skin against skin. Dick’s hand dropped between their bodies, and he pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing it in sync with his thrusts. 

“Are you close? I… can’t hold on much longer.” His words were muttered between clenched teeth again. “I need… I need you to come, Raven. I need you to come hard.”

She didn’t even have a chance to respond before her orgasm slammed into her like a freight train. Her magic snapped out of her fingertips, and she watched as the lights in her room burned like a flash before sparking and bathing them in blackness. Raven closed her eyes and let wave after wave of pleasure wrack her body, until she was nothing but a useless shell lying on her sweat soaked bed. 

Dick tipped his head back and roared her name, his body shaking as his own orgasm consumed him. With another curse, he collapsed over her, catching his weight on his forearms. They lay there for what seemed to be hours, just gasping and basking in the bone-deep pleasure of sex. 

Finally, Dick started to laugh, dropping his head to her shoulder. 

Raven kept her eyes closed, still trying to swallow air. “What is so funny?”

“Open your eyes.”

She did, and was greeted by pitch-black darkness. Raven blinked a few times before looking out the window. “What…”

“Congratulations, Rae.” He continued to laugh, kissing over her shoulders. “Your orgasm blew out the power grid for the whole city.” 

Well, fuck.

[vonlipvig]

the thing about games is that to me everything that is above 1k pesos is expensive, but literally everything is above 1k pesos these days because what is 1k pesos anyway

[exquisiteagony]

aight i have a really good idea for the 27th febuwhump but i’ve got extra long days on sunday and monday so i’ll need to have finished the backlog and the rest leading up to that day by Saturday at the latest because that one might be Long

[meaningtotellyou]

we’re getting somewhere… slowly… i guess

[gible-love-nibles-archive]

Eternal Diva Fic (Part 13)

This is where all the Softness (tm) is folks; this is the "Clare is indulging" part lmao. Then again, this entire section of the story is me indulging. This entire fic is me indulging. You signed up for this at this point.

No warnings here, pretty sure! Just a nice soft penultimate chapter :]

Word Count: 1.6k / Previous / Next

“What are you up to?”

I jerked in surprise. It was Descole again, leaning on the doorway.

It had been a couple of days.  At least that was what I guessed.  Time was hard to gauge when there weren’t any windows, and I was lousy at keeping track of time anyway.  

Despite Descole’s advice, I had barely gotten any sleep.  Believe me, I tried.  But my eyes wouldn’t stay closed or I couldn’t settle down.  So most of the time, I took out my notebook and just doodled away, hoping that would help.

“Drawing,” I said simply. “Can’t sleep.”

"Again?" was all he said as he came in. It didn't sound accusatory, but I took it that way.

"I've been trying to sleep, alright? It's just been with... everything! All of this!" I let out a short sigh. "I know that's not your fault, but..." I trailed off.

The masked man just stared at me. I might've been seeing things... but he looked a bit sullen.

"I'm not going to force you to sleep. If you can't, you can't. Simple as that."

There was a stretch of silence. Neither of us moved (not that I could move much anyway).

I could tell Descole didn't want to leave just yet. He had been doing that quite a bit, finding random things to talk about to stretch out these visiting times. I didn't really get why; none of it seemed useful to him at all.

“Could I see what you’re drawing?” He finally settled on that as he sat and settled on the other side of the bed.

I blinked. "You actually wanna see my art?"

"It's something you're passionate about, no? You carried a notebook with you to an opera house of all places, and you're fast at it. How long have you been drawing?"

"All my life, basically? It's just something I've always done."

"Fascinating..."

“…I… guess you can look. If you really want to.” I passed the notebook over to him.  I didn't have anything to hide; it wasn’t like there was anything embarrassing or weird in there. “Just don’t expect to be amazed or anything.”

He thumbed through my notebook quietly.  He just made quirky little expressions at my work and didn't say anything. After a little while of flipping back and forth— enough to almost make me nervous— he handed it back.

“Hm.  You were right.  I wasn’t amazed.”

“Gee, thanks—”

“Because there was nothing of me in there.”

I gawked at him for a moment. “Really? That's your only takeaway?”

“The only negative takeaway. Your style is charming and extremely expressive, your linework and handwriting is neat, and you somehow do it so quickly. I'm very impressed, dear."

"Wait, you... like it? Like, really you like it? You're not pulling my leg here?"

His smile softened. "Absolutely." But that softness went away fast for slyness. "But! If you want my opinion, your posing could use improvement."

"And drawing you will help with that. Totally not because you want free art of yourself." I couldn’t help but snort. “No thanks.  Your hat looks awful to draw.” I pushed it down over his mask so it would cover his eyes.  He chuckled as he fixed it.

“I could model for you, if that would help.” His smile may have been smug, but he was serious.

“I’m sure you have better things to do than be my model.”

“No, my schedule’s all free now with Ambrosia discovered. I'm very open and very available.”

“Well, I heard there’s another lost city out there that I’m sure would be a real head-scratcher for you.  They’re calling it Atlantis.”

“You--!” He playfully shoved me a bit (though it was more of a nudge), and we both couldn’t stop from cracking up.

~

Another random day, I couldn’t sleep again and Descole visited again.

“Is there anything that will help you sleep better?  You’re really starting to worry me.”

Asking the masked man why he was fretting over me so much never got me a straight answer.  I just dropped it after a while.  

“I dunno.  Time’s just… weird down here.” I was about to say it wasn’t that bad, but I swallowed it.  Of course it was bad; if I wasn’t sleeping, I wasn’t healing (or at least healing with nothing else happening).

He hummed for a bit, then seemed to get an idea. “When I was a boy, my mother used to read me a bedtime story every night she could.  I was out cold right as she finished.  Maybe the same will work for you.  Besides, it must be dreadfully boring here with only one thing to do.”

“...You have got to have something better to do than read me a bedtime story.”

"Please, dash your concerns.  You’re my guest; of course you’re going to take up my time. I'm not going to just leave you alone like some caged animal.  And besides… I want to.  So, do you want to hear a story or not?"

I was taken aback a bit.  He wanted to, genuinely? “Um… sure.  Why not?”

A warm smile slid onto his face. “Thank you, dear.”

I liked seeing that smile. Certainly better than... all that on top of the robot.

He went over to a little bookshelf I hadn’t noticed in the room before.  He dragged his finger across the spines, looking for just the right one. He gingerly pulled out a smaller book. “Ah, here it is.”

The cover was mainly blue with a blonde boy standing on the moon with yellow stars in the night sky.  The title:

“The Little Prince?”

“Have you read it before?”

“I’ve heard of it.  I’ve always wanted to read it, but I could never find it anywhere.”

Descole’s smile grew wider. “Well then, I’m honored to be the one introducing it to you.”

And that was how the next few days went: Descole would sit on my bed, reading The Little Prince.  He had a voice ready for every character, and it always got a laugh out of me. 

Eventually, I’d always fall asleep (most likely leaning on him because I peered over his shoulder to read the words or look at the pictures).  He didn’t leave me settled there forever (or maybe even very long), as every time I woke up, he was gone.

~

"Hey, Descole?"

"Hm? Yes?"

We had just finished a reading of The Little Prince, and the masked man looked exhausted. From context clues, it seemed like he was working on another plan for some ancient site or city or what-have-you.

I figured he wasn't going to tell me anything about it, so I didn't say a word. I was probably going to get roped into it somehow anyway, knowing my luck.

But something had been nagging at me this whole time, nibbling at me. I felt like if I didn't get it out soon, I was going to explode. So... might as well while we were both still awake.

"...How do I say this...?"

"Really, is it that bad?"

Ok sir, this attitude was not helping. "N-No, it's not bad! It's-- the opposite of bad actually."

"And you're having this much trouble getting it out?"

I sighed, and then steeled myself, gripping my blanket. "I just... wanted to say: your voice on top of the Detragan was... really nice...?"

Silence. You could've heard a pin drop.

...Why had I said that? Why did I say that?

Augh god, he was going to be just insufferable now! He was never going to let me hear the end of it!

But, to my surprise... it was still quiet. I hazarded a look at him.

Descole looked stunned. He was staring right through me, all sorts of gears and cogs turning in his head. The great mastermind Jean Descole looked... flustered.

Once he noticed me staring, he puffed up like a startled cat and pretended to cough into his sleeve. For a split second, it looked like his cheeks were flushed. But I wasn't sure.

He stammered. "Yours was... as well."

Silence once more. After a few seconds that felt like a few hours, Descole suddenly darted for the door, not saying a word.

"H-Hey!" was all I could get out before the door shut. I let out a short sigh. "Bad idea. Of course it was."

~

I settled into some kind of rhythm eventually: eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner; find some way to pass the time in between meals with or without Descole around; and once night came along, listen to him read. 

Every meal was cooked by Raymond, though Descole sometimes told me that I ate some of his cooking offhandedly.  I always told Descole that I could tell which parts he cooked: the worst-tasting part.  It was just me teasing him, and he recognized that.  Honestly, I couldn’t tell which parts he cooked, if any at all.

The masked man and I had pretty easy conversations at the start, but things started to get more… awkward as time went on.  Genuine compliments that caught either of us off-guard, and then Descole would hurriedly excuse himself and leave.  Words way too sweet for their own good.  Eventually, we started talking less and less. 

After we finished The Little Prince, he didn’t pick up another book for us to read. He'd just hand me one he'd thought I liked and hurried off again.

It felt… hollowing.  I wanted to say something about it, but I couldn’t just force him to talk if he didn’t want to.

Raymond reassured me during all this. “He’s… lost a lot, lass.  I suppose he’s just steeling himself for when you leave.  He’s enjoyed your company, and he’s preparing himself for when it’s all over.”

It… didn’t make me feel better.

Eventually, I was finally feeling better and could move about the sub.  Which of course, meant it was time for me to leave.

[nanamis-bigtie]

Hm.

We are 13 followers away from a big milestone. I said I won't take more requests but there are a lot of new, very active readers who didn't get a chance to grab something before I closed.

...maybe something fast and simple, like flash drabbles?

[freedcmscall]

Plotted Starter — Blood Magic | @triickst

Anders knew how drained he was, could feel that he had next to no mana reserves left in that internal pool from which he could pull. Fumbling hands pulled another bottle from his pack, a muttered curse escaping his lips as he realised it was the last one. No time to worry over that at the moment, he would be fine. His companions, however, he was not so sure of. Resolved, he pulled the cork of the lyrium potion out with his teeth and knocked back its contents, grimacing as ever at the somehow bitter yet cloying taste the liquid brought to his tongue.

It was supposed to have been another routine mission. Really, he should have known. Anders had known Lucian for long enough to know that any time something was supposed to be normal or routine, it ended up anything but. That was probably why he'd come along to begin with. It had been fine, destroying a cave full of slavers, until the point that it was very much not fine and they were considerably more outnumbered than they needed to be. Finally, though, everyone could catch their breath.

He'd tended to their other two companions, by some stroke of luck or act of the Maker only inflicted with largely superficial wounds. And then he'd gotten to Lucian, and dammit he should have started with him. Anders shoved down the panic threatening to bubble up in his throat and replaced it with stubbornness, pulling at every last ounce of mana and pleading with any whisp that would listen from the Fade to help him in healing this man. He couldn't lose him.

Soon, too soon, dangerously quickly, Anders was left panting and useless. He pulled at the Fade, begged it, pleaded, even sent a quick prayer to the Maker, and nothing. Lucian was still hurt, still too hurt. He couldn't heal all of the wounds - his mind helpfully supplying a moment later that it was likely because some were too imbued with blood magic. It was too dangerous of a combination, a large attack and Lucian's dependence on blood magic. This was the danger of blood magic, not a lack of control, not consorting with demons, but losing someone dear to him. For a moment, Anders' mind flashed back to Karl, dead by his hand, dead because his actions could do nothing to save him — no, not again. The healer was rendered a desperate man, and desperation could be a dangerous thing.

He took a deep, steadying breath, steeling himself. He had to do this. "You'll be okay," he whispered, not sure if it was to himself or to Lucian, whom Anders knew likely couldn't even hear him at this point. He was too close to dying, Anders was too close to losing him. He glanced about, ensuring no one else was watching him, reassured by the fact that it looked like the other two were conversing and sufficiently distracted, recovering energy from the mess that they had been caught in.

He blindly fumbled for the small knife he kept strapped to his belt, refusing to tear his eyes from Lucian in case his condition worsened even in the brief moments that such a movement took, moments that felt as though they were being pulled through molasses instead of the air through which time flowed naturally. Quickly, Anders unwound the gauze tied about his wrist and pulled off the leather cuff on his right arm. Taking no care, he tore apart the poorly stitched together old tear in the fabric of his coat - he could sew it back together, as he had done countless times. It was fabric, it didn't feel. It wouldn't die.

Left hand shaking and head pounding from the severe lack of mana as well as what he could feel was clearly Justice's disapproval, he brought the knife to the flesh of his wrist. His palm would have been easier - more pain but less fabric to undo, but likewise would have been too obvious. He couldn't risk anyone knowing what he had done. Before he could talk himself out of it, Anders had sliced open his flesh, floundering for a moment before he managed to get the blood to behave as close of an approximation of his normal healing as he could get.

There was a moment, too long of a moment, too tense of a moment, where he feared it hadn't worked. He had never studied blood magic, it was against everything he believed in (except for Lucian, he was okay to use blood magic except for when it left him bleeding out and dying in front of Anders). What if he failed anyway? His fears didn't last long, and at long last, the healing appeared to take. He was pale, sweaty, and exhausted, but the worst of the damage done to Lucian had been repaired and it was clear enough to Anders, given his profession as a healer, that he would live.

Before he himself could lose consciousness from the exhaustion, the mana loss, and the blood loss combined, and before Lucian could regain his own consciousness fully enough, Anders hastily re-wrapped his gauze about his wrist, messier than it had been but hopefully enough to hold. He neglected the leather cuff, wiped his small blade on his tunic, and tucked it back away on his belt.

"Come on, wake up," he encouraged, voice soft from care and wavering from all-encompassing tiredness. He would not rest until he saw Lucian stir. In Anders' state, he didn't notice that the blood was beginning to stain his sleeve. It wasn't even a passing thought or glance - he wasn't important at that moment.