#D writes

[carlos-tk]

hi friends <3 posting while it’s actually still sunday in my timezone for once

thanks to @carlos-in-glasses and @heartstringsduet for the tags 💕

a little more from the supposed to be finished fic

TK tweaks his own nipple, pinching it between two fingers before his hand slides down his abdomen, and his ring clad hand squeezes his thick c*ck.

He quickly tries to stroke himself to his next orgasm, defiant as Carlos slows his thrusts, pauses with half his c*ck slipping out of TK.

“Baby,” he laughs in exasperation, “you know you’re not allowed to come until I say so.”

“Carlos,” he whines, high pitched and forlorn. His grip on himself loosened.

“It’s okay,” Carlos soothes.

“Just let me get you there,” he suggests, “please.”

TK simply nods and Carlos takes that as his cue to restart his strokes. Pushes himself back in fully, rough and unrelenting– just as desperate for release as his husband is.

tags under the cut 🫶🏼 + an open tag for you

fellow timezone sharers with priority of course @welcometololaland @rmd-writes @celeritas2997 @captain-gillian @inkweedandlizards

@whatsintheboxmh @alrightbuckaroo @strandnreyes @reyesstrand @lightningboltreader

@cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @birdclowns @herefortarlos @chicgeekgirl89 @vineofroses

@liminalmemories21 @orchidscript @eclectic-sassycoweyes @reyestrandd @reyescarlos

@thisbuildinghasfeelings @theghostofashton @fallout-mars @lemonlyman-dotcom @ladytessa74

@thebumblecee @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @americansrequiems @nancys-braids @safeaswrites

@decafdino @fitzherbertssmolder @freneticfloetry @firstprince-history-huh @honeybee-taskforce

@basilsunrise @bonheur-cafe @noxsoulmate @never-blooms @mikibwrites @three-drink-amy @sunshinestrand

[tatooineknights]

I’ve been playing Fortnite for the first time, nonstop, ever since the Dagobah Luke skin came out. Help!

[fictionobsession]

Learning Hurts

Pairing: Astarion x gn!Tav

Summary: Tav totally wanted to learn how to handle a dagger.

Word Count: 2,232

Warnings: knives, blood, maybe ooc astarion sorry, not beta'd

A/N: This is my first time writing a full-length fic in... a minute, so please forgive anything that doesn't make sense lolol but the Astarion brainrot would not leave me alone so you get this, you're welcome or smth

--

The sun was just beginning to set on their little camp as Tav leaned back, hands folded behind their head, watching the routine the group had so easily fallen into. Gale was ordering Wyll to bring him various ingredients that had been left around the camp. Karlach was arm-wrestling Lae'zel for the hundredth time, the latter sporting a triumphant grin at her unbroken winning streak. Shadowheart was using the time for her nightly meditations. And Astarion, never helping or socializing unless explicitly asked, was sitting outside his tent sharpening his blades.

Tav didn't stop themself staring at the way he inspected his work, running a long, slender finger along the deadly edge. They didn't try to tear their eyes away as he twirled the dagger, paying close attention to the way the firelight danced across the metal. Astarion balanced the dagger on one finger, flipped it once, twice, like he wanted to be sure it hadn't lost its balance somewhere along the way. Flip, twirl, catch. Flip, catch, turn. Tav was mesmerized by the dexterous movements of hand and knife, not noticing the smirk that had found its way to the rogue's face, or the sudden increase in complexity of the knife's ministrations.

“I can teach you some tricks if you really find it that interesting.”

Tav's gaze snapped up at the smirk they heard rather than saw, and caught the teasing glint in those lovely red eyes across from them. Tav cleared their throat, trying to sound at least somewhat normal, cringing when their voice still came out as a squeak. “oh, uh, yeah? Yeah! The knife work is very interesting. That sounds fun!”

He motioned to the space next to him, but Tav was rooted in place, looking back and forth between his eyes and the gesture.

“Come on, darling. I won't bite unless you ask me to.”

Tav felt their mouth run dry, and they swallowed hard, trying to contain any reaction they most certainly did not have to that particular statement. They knew they had failed, though, when they heard the snort of laughter Astarion graciously attempted to disguise as a cough – an attempt that may have worked if not for the crinkles at the corners of his eyes giving him away. Tav glared at him in what they hoped was at least a vaguely threatening way before taking a deep breath and moving to hover in from of his tent, a respectable distance from the man himself.

The elf rolled his eyes, an unfortunately common sight for Tav, handing them his off-hand dagger and promptly closing the respectable distance. “Alright, darling, we're going to start very simple, since you're just as like to stab yourself as the enemy half the time.”

It was a joke, or at least mostly a joke (excluding that one time), but Tav's face went hot with embarrassment anyway. They held the dagger like it might try to jump from their grip, knuckles white from the pressure. Astarion raised an eyebrow expectantly, waiting for Tav to figure it out. They loosened their grip a bit, rubbing a thumb over the lightly worn leather on the hilt, the texture grounding them and letting some of their anxieties disappate. They tried a few different ways to hold it, almost cutting themselves more than once, before Astarion found himself reaching out to adjust their grip. Both pause at the contact, but Astarion quickly waved it off with a murmured excuse. “Wouldn't be much of a teacher if I let you hurt yourself in the first five seconds, would I?”

He took a step back, pulling out his own dagger and showing off a quick grip change that looked like a simple flick in and then out. Tav recognized it faintly as the way they'd seen him reposition after a stealth attack on an enemy. Not that they were paying attention to his hand positioning in combat, just simply watching for timing for the rest of the group, of course. “It's important to be able to switch like this so you can react to enemies from multiple directions without adjusting your whole stance,” he explained as he demonstrated a few more times. Tav started to move slowly, clumsily, tucking the blade back and down, then out again. They kept at it, increasing speed as they went, until they got it pretty close to what Astarion was doing. They looked up, pleased with their progress, just in time to see an unfamiliar expression swiftly disappear from his face. If someone didn't know better, they might've described it as fond. Luckily, Tav knew better. “Sorry that took a minute, I know it should've been easy. Could you show me how to do the flip thing you were doing earlier?”

Astarion's brow furrowed at the request, and he was already shaking his head before the question was finished. “Absolutely not. You can barely do this, and I will not be responsible for - “ he noticed the pathetic, begging, ridiculous eyes Tav was giving him. Normally, he would've been unaffected by anyone's big doe eyes, but something about Tav at that moment, he couldn't bring himself to say no. “Oh, alright. But when you hurt yourself, I will not be feeling sorry for you. Are we clear?”

Tav nodded fervently, afraid he'd change his mind.

“I said, are we clear? Use your words, darling, or I'm putting these away.” A quick gesture with his knife, that playful gleam in his eye. Tav knew he was trying to get under their skin, make them uncomfortable enough to walk away from their little lesson. But Tav, stubborn as they were, would never give him the satisfaction. They brought their eyes up to meet his, back straight, exuding a confidence they weren't sure they actually possessed.

“Yes, sir. Very clear.”

And if they allowed themselves a satisfied grin when Astarion almost dropped his dagger, well, nobody needed to know.

He blinked hard, face contorting into another unfamiliar expression, this one almost akin to his “I just got punched in the face” expression, before he resumed his normal aloof grin. He tossed his dagger, letting it flip twice in the air before catching it. He shook his head and tossed it again, only letting it flip once before catching it this time. He did it again, again, again. Finally he nodded approvingly and turned back to Tav. “Alright, you're going to try to flip it once, like this, and then step back. You want to flip it forward so it goes more away from you than towards you. Then you let it fall to the ground. I don't want you to try to catch it yet. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

They felt the weight of the blade in their hand and tried to avoid looking directly at Astarion, lest their hands start to shake. They took a deep breath, tossed the knife harder than anticipated, and watched as it flipped not once, not twice, but three times before gravity pulled it back down...point first. Tav's eyes widened as Astarion yanked them away, their back suddenly flush against his chest. The surprise wore off quickly, replaced by embarrassment when they felt rather than heard their companion's laughter from behind them. Astarion didn't try to hide it, forehead hitting Tav's shoulder as he shook with giggles. They pulled themself from his arms and stumbled to pick up the dagger from where it had stuck perfectly in the ground, glaring at the still-laughing rogue.

“Are you sure you want to learn this?” The elf managed to huff the question between bouts of giggles. Tav narrowed their eyes in his direction, causing him to throw his hands up in surrender. “Maybe try that a few more times before you attempt catching it then, if you think you can manage to not stab yourself in the head.”

Tav's outrage came out as a very dignified squawk. “You – I'm only distracted because you're watching! Quit looking!”

“I didn't realize I made you so nervous.” An eyebrow cocked in amusement. Tav fought the urge to stomp their foot in a childish fit of annoyance. “Fine, fine. I'll turn around. Just make sure you step out of the way, please. I really would hate to lose my favorite traveling companion.” A wink shot Tav's way as Astarion turned to watch the flames of the campfire.

He stayed facing the fire for what seemed like ages, listening in barely concealed amusement to the thumps of the knife hitting the ground, almost always followed by a huff or grumble of annoyance, until he heard the faintest oh instead. “What's wrong, my dear? Tired of dropping things yet?”

“Uhm...” His eyes narrowed as Tav trailed off. “Yes, I think I might... might need to practice more a different time.”

Their voice was shaky and weaker than usual, none of their confidence and joking nature present. Astarion whirled around, unmasked concern evident on his face. The first thing he noticed were the tears pooling in Tav's eyes. The second thing was the intoxicating scent of their blood hitting him full force. His lips dropped into a perfect o as he stared at the drip, drip, drip of blood falling from Tav's fingers.

“Astarion? I'm sorry, I know you said you weren't going to feel bad. It's okay, my fault for trying to catch it, really. Please don't be mad.” Their small voice brought him back to the moment, only slightly disgusted with himself for getting distracted.

“Oh, love, what have you done?” He took two long strides toward them, grabbing their hand. He rubbed a thumb so gently near the wound, gauging the depth and severity. His expression softened as he looked up at Tav. “I'm not mad at you, but it must hurt. Do you want me to go get Shadowheart?”

“No!” Tav winced at the forcefulness of their own words. “No, no one needs to know how ridiculous this was.”

“They are right across camp, I'm sure they'll know regardless. Besides that, you shouldn't have to be in pain just because you're clumsy, you know.” He pulled his hand away, and caught Tav watching him inspect the blood left on his thumb. He brought the thumb to his mouth and licked a bit of the blood off, smirking at Tav's nose scrunching up in response. “Delicious.”

Tav reached up to smack his shoulder lightly with their uninjured hand.

“Sorry, love. I just can't help myself.” He paused before continuing. “Hm. Well, if you're insistent on suffering, can I at least help you clean up?”

Tav's imagination immediately took over, providing detailed visuals of how Astarion might “clean up” a bloody mess, which did not help the tightness in their stomach caused by him licking the last of the blood off his own fingers. Their mind wandered from there, unbidden images of Astarion, always teasing, always flirting, using that beautiful mouth for licking, kissing, biting... They shook the thoughts from their head, just in time to see him emerging from his tent with a cloth too clean to be found anywhere nearby. He held it up to them, offering to literally just clean the wound.

Tav sighed, mentally reprimanding themselves for having those thoughts about a companion, a friend, that clearly just wants to help. It had been a while, they justified to themself, since they had found anyone as intriguing, mysterious, hilarious, attractive as Astarion. There was no crime there, right? It didn't mean anything, and certainly wasn't anything they would act upon. Friends could have the occasional thought about each other right? It didn't matter that it was always the same friend. Or that those thoughts were certainly becoming more than occasional at this point. Gods, they were fucked. This would definitely be a problem later.

Tav's inner monologue continued as Astarion took the white cloth, folded it twice before taking Tav's warm hand in his cold one again and wrapping the cloth around the injury. He winced along with them as he tightened the bandage.

“'m sorry. I'll be done in a moment. I have to wrap it tightly enough to stop the bleeding.” Tav had never seen such a naked look of emotion on the man's face. They felt like they might faint, not from the blood loss, but from the sheer amount of concern present there.

“It's okay, Star. I know you wouldn't hurt me on purpose.” The smile Tav gave him could have outshone the sun. Astarion suddenly found himself with shaking hands, unable to identify what the hells this feeling was. He tried to finish the wrapping quickly, wanting to put distance between himself and the object of his racing thoughts. He turned Tav's hand, making sure the bandage was secure from all angles, and stalked toward the woods without a word.

Tav calling his name got only the slightest pause. “Thank you for trying to teach me. And for cleaning me up. You didn't have to do that.”

His steps stuttered, and he turned, not quite facing them, though they could see the pained look on his face anyway. “I think I did.”

He slipped out of view, leaving Tav standing, head tilted like a confused puppy, staring after him, completely unaware of the crisis of self they had just thrust upon the unsuspecting vampire spawn.

[kitabasis]

Return by OK Go is such a post-play Benvolio/Bencutio feelings song

“You were supposed to grow old

Reckless, unfrightened, and old

You were supposed to grow old”

[eatingfireflies]

Loving Ratio was, for all intents and purposes, the same as loving mung bean soda. The barrier to entry was formidable and the return negligible, but once you've gotten past the rotten egg smell and the distinctive sour taste, once you're hooked, there was never going to be a drink quite like it.

I want to write a fic like this but I have 2 problems:

I don't think Aventurine knows what mung bean soda tastes like

I struggle with writing about romance stuff because basically one time my writing professor was all 'Never write a character saying "I love you" to another character when they can show it instead' and I have not written anyone saying 'I love you' for like 20 years. I have written romantic fics yes. But actually writing the word love? Oh it's hard oh I can't sustain it 😂

[ginalinettiofficial]

just saw someone do this and am FINALLY in the mood to participate in a trend ☺️❤️

so:

WRITING POLL

rules: make a 24-hour poll with the names of your wips and then for whichever wins, write one sentence for every vote it gets (but you should also write 1 sentence for every vote each of them gets)!

[yagrldariv]

Welcome to all my new followers!! I know I haven’t been super active lately as I started a new job. But now that things have died down considerably and I now have more time to write I’m opening my requests again and want to start doing some themed ask days for blurbs/HCs when I have off.

For those themed days I will be posting about it at least a week in advance.

For now send some asks for some imagines and blurbs!

[ddanosaur]

her smile carries me into the new year

hello!! i've never posted a fic on tumblr before but here's my gift to @idlyingabout as part of a secret santa exchange! prompt was for some college lanamia

summary:

Lana smiled, and it was warm in the winter chill and made Mia’s stomach flip, her cheeks heating even more. “Wonderful! It’s a date then,” Lana said as they got back to the library. “I’ve got some things to take care of, so I’ll be heading out. Talk to you later, Mia.” “Y-yeah. See you later, Lana.” Mia just stood there and waved as Lana walked away, a grin that she couldn’t fight on her face. And then Mia’s brain caught up with her. Wait? Did she say it was a date!?

[littlelightfish]

This... this is a whole different kind of psychic damage here. When nightmares got Marcille, we get to knew that her's biggest fear is outliving her friends. This isn't even canon probably, but look at this. This isn't a "I don't want my friends to die" kind of dream. This is a "I'm terrified of loosing my daughters, of something killing them, and being incapable of stopping it" kind of dream. It's so simple yet it explains perfectly the whole of chilchucks character. He loves, he cares, deeply. But he, or doesn't acknowledges, or doesn't know what to do with that knowledge.

Besides that. Someone had to wake him up after this. Imagine the devastation in this man after he wakes up. He just saw his three little babys murdered corpses (or maybe he saw them die, wich isn't better). He would possibly not talk about it, and that would worry the hell out of the party, because we'll, they see him all down and only one of them knows what he saw. Imagine being the one to pull him from that nightmare. Seeing this man, usually so composed, fuking staring with tears and terror in his eyes to the composes of what you can only assume are his daughters. It would be heartwrenching.

Idk, I love this man so much...

[stealingpotatoes]

this is a real canon scene that happened they just forgot to put it in the movie (real) (my toaster told me)

[sttoru]

clan leader!satoru, whose smile isn’t actually a. . . smile. it serves as a gentle (yet not-so-gentle) threat to whomever it is dedicated to. a lot of the gojo clan members, as well as members from other noble clans, have heard of that infamous smile and know of its true meaning.

ever since marrying you, that smile often finds its way onto his lips. it’s not because of you, but rather because of the ones interacting with you. satoru didn’t ever expect to feel so possessive about someone he initially didn’t care for.

a marriage of convenience is all that your relationship was for. it purely existed for the sake of a connection between two famous families. your first weeks together have been awkward. any form of affection - any touches or loving words - were for the sake of his image.

however that all was fated to change: satoru eventually found himself falling for his wife.

your kind personality, your subtle smiles, the embarrassed expression on your face whenever he teased you in front of others even if it was all a faux display- an act of being all lovey-dovey. your inner and outer beauty was slowly becoming more apparent to the white-haired man.

you don’t know when it started. you can’t recall why satoru is suddenly acting affectionate even behind closed doors. usually, he’d drop the act the second you’re in your chambers. now he continues to compliment you, pepper you with chaste kisses as long as you allowed him to… even refer to you as his ‘dear’, ‘pretty girl’ or ‘sweetheart’ to your face like it’s nothing.

you shrug off your own guards and maids when they curiously inform you about their lord’s sudden change of personality, which was supposedly all because of you.

“ah, my wife,” satoru’s voice echoes above the loud chatter in the main hall. you turn your head and find your heart racing for some reason as he addresses you in that gentle tone.

he makes his way through the crowd, eyes never leaving your face, even as other important figures try to catch his attention to talk business. “i was greatly worried about you,” your husband sighs.

a gloved hand cups your face and satoru leans in, his glossy lips inches from yours. you’d think this was part of the fake arrangement, but there’s this genuine hint of adoration behind his cerulean eyes that you cannot ignore.

“i— my apologies,” you murmur softly, eyes darting around the room while you try to ignore the loud thumping of your heart. “i was simply talking to one of the guards,” you explain and nod your head to the bulky man standing next to you.

the guard respectfully bows to satoru the second you introduce him. your husband doesn’t respond for a single second, his fingers twitching lightly at his side. he can’t stand the thought of you talking to another man while he isn’t around.

is it for your own safety? or is it because he’s jealous and immediately wants to get rid of any man who dares speak to his precious wife? perhaps it’s a mixture of both.

“i see,” satoru replies. his eyes darken for a second before he catches himself. the corners of his lips curl upwards, though the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

that familiar sight makes you nervous. you’ve seen it before, when your husband would subtly threaten others for whatever reason, while hiding his true feelings behind that smile.

“well,” satoru continues, his arm wrapping around your waist. he pulls you against his side and places a kiss on top of your head while glaring at the guard through his white eyelashes.

“thank you for keeping my wife safe,” the clan leader says through that tight smile, trying to keep it as ‘genuine’ looking as possible. he has a reputation and image to uphold after all.

you’re about to say something, but are cut off as satoru adds another comment. “i’m here now, so you can return to your post.”

it isn’t a suggestion. it is an order— a command. a disguised threat.

the guard immediately picks up on the subtle hint and nods without saying a word before walking back to his spot at the doors. you can hear the faint whispers from others as they also seem to recognise that change in satoru’s demeanour.

it’s not like you’re totally oblivious to what’s happening either. you look up at satoru and place a hand on his chest, trying to catch his attention. “satoru,” you whisper his name.

the white-haired man immediately snaps out of it and excitedly shoots you that boyish smile of his instead of the fake, cold one he wore on his face just a second ago.

“you called, my dear?” satoru tilts his head, bringing a hand to rest over yours on his chest. your eyes widen a bit at the way he seems to relax and look at you with that same devoted gaze.

you don’t think it’s an act anymore. the words die on your tongue and you can’t recall what you wanted to say anymore. those sparkling blue eyes and charming smile have you rendered speechless.

“…it’s nothing,” you mutter under your breath. you have no clue how you’ve managed to turn that once, cocky, overly confident and cold-hearted ruler into a total softie for you. it’s something you still need to process yourself.

satoru doesn’t leave your side for the rest of the night, glaring at the men who pass by, shooting them that fake, threatening smile if they looked like they desired to converse with you.

you’re his wife, and that’s that. he silently wonders when you’ll realise that he actually fell for you. perhaps you are already aware of it, but hide it from him on purpose.

whatever the case is, satoru will make sure that you know his true feelings for you. one day he will tell you those three words explicitly— if it wasn’t obvious enough through his sudden change of behavior.

[carlos-tk]

new banner featuring our fave sleepy lil guy

thanks for the tags @heartstringsduet @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @strandnreyes @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad 💗

“I’m glad I was your friend before I was anything more, that made it easier to fall more in love with you– the real you, the person everyone else doesn’t get to see,” he admits.

“But knowing I could never act on my feelings– that’s what hurt, that’s why I pushed you away. I knew I couldn’t survive with just these little pieces of you anymore, I wanted to have it all or nothing.”

TK gasps, much louder than either of them were anticipating as it slips from his mouth in surprise.

“You love me?” he asks, almost in disbelief.

“TK,” he starts to say, before he’s interrupted again.

“You love me,” he repeats, as if trying to commit the accidental confession to memory.

Carlos watches as the edges of TK’s mouth pinch into a grin so wide it’s almost blinding.

His hand reaches out for Carlos’ and he slides their palms together in one smooth action, squeezes it tightly between his own.

“Say it again,” he requests, “please Carlos.”

Carlos mouth forms into a grin that matches his.

“I love you– I’m in love with you, Tyler Kennedy Strand,” he confesses, sure and true.

tags below + an open tag for YOU 🫶🏼

@whatsintheboxmh @welcometololaland @celeritas2997 @rmd-writes @inkweedandlizards

@birdclowns @reyesstrand @alrightbuckaroo @herefortarlos @lightningboltreader

@reasonandfaithinharmony @theghostofashton @liminalmemories21 @thisbuildinghasfeelings

@orchidscript @reyestrandd @ambiguouspenny @sznofthesticks @nancygillianmvp

@carlos-in-glasses @never-blooms @safeaswrites @freneticfloetry @howtosingit @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@honeybee-taskforce @fallout-mars @kiwichaeng @jesuisici33 @literateowl @louis-ii-reyes-strand

@sunshinestrand @reyescarlos @ladytessa74 @thebumblecee @mooshkat @mikibwrites

@chicgeekgirl89 @chaotictarlos @noxsoulmate @vineofroses @basilsunrise @bonheur-cafe

@firstprince-history-huh @fitzherbertssmolder @doublel27

[tatooineknights]

I love that the Star Wars social media presence decided that we'd have Revenge of the Sixth now too, alongside Revenge of the Fifth. I guess Palpatine just keeps on winning!

[fictionobsession]

Jailbreak

Pairing: None

Word Count: 806 (is just little)

Warnings: none!

A/N: this is a between-game blurb for the multiplayer campaign I'm doing with @elfinbloodbag and @tripleyeeet so this is really for them - hope y'all like it <3

--

Pippin was mid-sneak, trying to take some potions out from under the nose of the injured tiefling, when Boone poked her head through the door of the prison.

“Hey, Pip, a moment please?” The whisper-yell wasn't quite enough to get the attention of the surrounding Grove inhabitants, of course, but Pippin cringed anyway. Pippin stepped back onto a squeaky board. Stupid old shack, what's wrong with dirt floors for godssake.

Luckily, the tiefling was too out of it to acknowledge such a tiny sound, and Pippin quickly made her way to the Druid's makeshift prison, making sure no one was watching as she slipped inside. Boone was standing in front of a cage, hands on hips, staring into the face of a goblin woman. Goblins have genders, right? Surely. Probably. Should probably learn some more about goblin culture. Do they have a culture? Everyone's got a culture I'm certain. Silly question.

“They've got 'er locked up.” Boone gestured to the goblin.

“What'd she do?”

Boone shrugged and looked up as Virru strolled casually into the room. “Best I can tell, she's just in here on account of being a goblin, and may have been with that crew we just...handled.”

“But, well, that's technically not a crime, is it? If she didn't hurt anybody?” Pippin asked, more thinking out loud than actually wanting an answer. She looked over at Boone, who let out a rather impressive yawn.

“She did say she'd get us into the goblin camp. Trouble-free. Jailbreak?”

Virru nodded. Pippin looked between them, already pulling out her lockpicking tools. “Never done a jailbreak before.”

Boone raised an eyebrow. Pippin's cheeks turned pink, suddenly very focused on the lock. “Well, never for someone other than myself anyway.” She rolled her shoulders and stuck her tongue between her teeth. The lock gave a final click, and the door swung open. The goblin, Sazza, she said her name was, sauntered out. Boone quickly pulled her weapon and aimed it at the escapee.

“I ain't gon do nothin'. Toldya I'd get ya in the camp, so I will. The Priestess will want to meet you. Put that down.”

Boone lowered her weapon – slightly. Virru leaned against the wall, watching. “So, not to be the voice of logic, but, now what?”

Pippin blinked at her, expression blank. Boone groaned, throwing her head back. “Nobody ever thinks things through.” She shot a glare at Pippin.

“Hey! I didn't do it this time! You said 'jailbreak' and I jail..broke? Anyway, I did what we all agreed on! I figured you had a plan!”

Boone grabbed the goblin by the elbow and started to lead her out of the prison area, only to be immediately stopped by the nearest tiefling. She turned Sazza around and went directly back into the room where Virru and Pippin were barely containing giggles.

When Virru was certain she could hold it together long enough to speak, she grinned up at Boone. “What exactly made you think that was going to work?”

“Was worth a try. Why go through all the effort of making an elaborate plan if you can just walk through the front door?”

“Well, we obviously can't walk through the front door, so what do we do? Pip, you have any ideas?”

Pippin shook her head and plopped to the floor. The others quickly joined her on the ground, regretting their lack of planning, and trying to figure out how exactly they were going to escape with the goblin.

They snacked on some food they had snagged from the Grove trader, not thinking or caring to share with their charge. Several suggestions were made and shot down for various reasons. The party's varying talents were quite useful most of the time, unless it came to things like sneaking or successfully lying. Boone was the worst at sneaking, and Pippin couldn't lie to save her life – literally.

virru narrowed her eyes at Sazza. “Does anyone have a scroll of disguise self?”

It was the first idea that had made any sense. The group all dug through their bags, coming up short on any scrolls or items that could help disguise the goblin.

They sat for what felt like ages, until Boone started pacing and Pippin started rooting through chests and crates looking for anything interesting. Pippin wandered around, finding a spot to jump down to a little area with bright orange mushrooms.

She noticed a glinting light just around the corner. “Hey guys? I think there's something back here.”

Virru was the first one to join her, with Boone following close behind. Virru squinted, trying to figure out what the shiny area was. “You know, that kind of looks like... a door? Why would there be a door back here?”

They shared a look, Boone striding forward to be the first through the door.

[kitabasis]

Gilded Serpents

In an alternate England governed by mage dynasties, the impending death of a family head means a competition among their heirs. The prize? A ritual taking of the head’s life, and with it, their title, and the combined magic—and souls—of all their dynasty’s previous leaders. The competition, is, predictably, fierce.

And it’s never fiercer than when it’s for the crown.

The eighty-year-old King of England is dying, and the whole country knows the competition will begin any day now. None know it better than his three daughters:

Gunnel, 24, ruthlessly practical and constantly overworked, who tried—and failed—to fill the space the absent Queen left behind, and hides her longing for a life ruled by herself alone

Aikaterine, 22, easily personable and subtly manipulative, who resents her status as the forgettable middle child just as much as she uses it to her advantage, and secretly has no idea who she is by herself

Calla—her father’s unabashed favorite—16, prodigiously powerful and incredibly principled (and autistic), who memorized every subtle rule of behavior to survive, but now is adrift as her father grows unpredictable

As the days pass, the King’s behavior gets ever more erratic, the competition approaches, and a certain bastard’s resentment of his family grows, it becomes clear that this will be a competition to remember.

Let the games begin. 

[eatingfireflies]

Sometimes I get hit by a writing bug and the first sentence is really all I need and nothing gets finished

So here is a manslut Caelus fic no one asked for and will likely never get finished